#I'm probably jinxing him with lasts really long comment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

braveclementine · 6 months ago

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Chapter 9

Warnings: None, Readers under 18 can read this book. It is solely fluff- nothing sexual

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

𝕴 𝖜𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖊 𝖆 letter to dad the next morning:

Dear Dad, I was wondering with the Christmas holidays coming up, if you want me to come back home. I know full moon is December 21, but I would hate for you to be alone during the holidays. I won't come back if you would rather I stay here. Totally up to you, I don't mind either option. Also, I've been trying to find out who Nicholas Flamel is. I know I've heard the name before but I can't remember who he is. I know he is famous for something. . . a little help please! Oh yeah, Harry's the seeker for the Gryffindor team. They made an exception for him and he's really good. He probably got the ability from James. Anyways, his broom was acting up in mid-air during the game, like it was trying to buck him off. Both Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell looked like they were trying to jinx him, but I think one was muttering a counter-jinx or else I believe he wouldn't have stay on the broom as long as he did if both of them had been trying to curse him, right? Hermione, Ron, and Harry all think that Snape was trying to kill Harry. None of them saw Quirrell. I don't think it was Snape, because I think it's Quirrell. What do you think? Lots of love, Elizabeth

I stopped by the Great Hall and picked up some bacon in a napkin for Sadie, and made my way up to the Owlery. Fred Weasley joined me mid-way there, twirling a letter between two of his fingers.

"Sup Liz." He said, falling in stride with me.

"Hey Fred, where's George?" They were almost always together.

"Still sleeping. Lazy ass." Fred said, making an exaggerated face. "Why, did you want to see him rather than me?"

I laughed, feeling lighter than I had since the game yesterday. "No, you two are just never apart. Also, good game yesterday. I'm glad you and George were trying to save Harry too."

Fred nodded, distant for a moment. Then he came back to the present. "Wonder how his broom did that anyways." Then he smirked and said, "We're a bunch of heroes, aren't we?"

I rolled my eyes and punched him in the arm, not commenting on the possible why's or possible how's on Harry's broom.

We started climbing the steps to the owlery. Fred was making jokes and I laughed at all of them. In the owlery, he went over to another owl and sent off a letter, while I tied Dad's letter to Sadie's leg. I fed her a piece of bacon, letting her eat out of my hand. "Safe flight." I murmured softly and she flew out into the early dawn.

I turned to face Fred and noticed, at that moment, a large snowy owl sitting up in the rafters. Peering at her a little closer, I realized that it was the same snowy owl that I had seen in Diagon Alley. The one that I had wanted but felt I should leave for someone else to get. Hedwig, Harry's owl. I smiled, reaching up, and fed her my last piece of bacon. She hooted softly in thanks. Maybe she remembered me, maybe she just liked the bacon. Either way, I knew she had been meant for a good home. I was suddenly glad I hadn't bought her.

Fred and I walked back down and went out separate ways. I found myself wandering, since it was a free period, and I found myself back near the corridor with the Mirror of Erised. I hesitated, looking at the closed door, and then found myself walking towards it.

I said I would never come back here again, I thought, trying to make myself turn around. My feet continued towards the door and I opened it, slipped inside, and closed it again. I dropped my bag down by the door, turned, and froze

Professor Snape had been standing in front of the mirror. At my noisy entrance, he'd turned to face me, a guarded look on his face.

"S-sorry." I stuttered, reaching down to pick up my bag and leave. "I didn't know anyone would be in here."

"Come here." Professor Snape commanded in a soft voice. I didn't dare disobey.

I left my bag where it was and trailed over to where he was standing, apprehensive. He didn't look angry. He looked away from me and back in the mirror. His eyes were sad and full of longing.

"You see Lily Potter." I blurted out before I could stop myself. "With James and Harry. All of them alive."

Professor Snape looked at me quickly, angrily, and possibly a little frightened. "How did you know that?" He asked, sharply. He'd probably never told a single person what he saw in the mirror.

I hesitated. I decided on the truth. Dad had always said that the truth was the best option. "I see a lot of things, in my head, I mean." I started out hesitantly and then realized that I probably sounded crazy and tried to clarify. "Mostly things of the future, but sometimes random things of the past." I blushed red, adding, "I see a lot of things about you."

"Like what?" Snape asked, no longer looking at me, nor at the mirror.

I thought about it carefully. "Before Lily died, you used to see yourself getting married to her, at least in the Mirror." As I spoke it, I saw the vision again. The one where Lily had brown eyes. That was the thing though. . . mum didn't have brown eyes- she had green eyes. "Or. . ." I voiced aloud.

"Or what?" Snape asked.

"Or maybe it wasn't mum after all." I whispered under my breath. I had brown eyes. I looked like mum. But it wasn't possible. No one knew I existed, he couldn't possibly have seen me in the mirror. He had to have seen Lily.

"What did you say?" Snape asked, looking down. He didn't appear confused, but he didn't seem to have heard me anyways.

"Nothing." I said quickly. There was no way I was voicing that option aloud. After all, it had been a slightly hazy vision and I couldn't marry a Professor. It had to be mum. "But I know that you're trying to stop Quirrell from getting past the three-headed dog. That's how you got bitten on Halloween night. The dogs guarding the stone."

The stone? Of course, the Sorcerer's stone. That was what Nicholas Flamel was famous for. He had created the one and only Sorcerer's stone. Looking into the future quickly, I saw that Hermione would figure it out and tell Harry and Ron anyways.

"You shouldn't know about that." Snape said sharply. "Just like-" He cut off, turning away.

I shrugged though now I felt as though I was in trouble. "There's a lot of stuff I shouldn't know. I know what Dumbledore sees when he looks in the mirror, what Harry sees, that Quirrell was the one trying to curse Harry off his broom, that next year will be a dangerous year though I'm sure of the exact danger. I can't help it. I don't know why I have these visions." I hesitated again. "you're the only one I've told." Dad had told me not to tell anyone. I hadn't even told Hermione. Why was I spilling all my secrets to Professor Snape?

We stood in silence for a moment and then he moved over. Putting a hand on my shoulder he asked, "What do you see when you look into the mirror?"

I stood in front of the mirror, but it was different from the last time. Now, in addition to mum, dad, Lupin, Sirius, and Harry- there was also Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, Lavender Brown, a small boy with a camera, Uncle Moody, Fred, Cedric Diggory, another Professor- I think the one who taught Muggle studies- a woman with bright pink hair, and a small house-elf with green eyes. It was the strangest thing ever and I didn't know why they were there. I didn't even know half the people in the mirror.

I noticed that Professor Snape was closest to me, besides Lupin, and that our hands were just touching briefly, by our fingers. The mirror unsettled me. These were the most random people ever. I wasn't even friends with Lavender, what was she doing in here? Surely, not all of these people were people I wanted to know.

So I lied. "I see myself creating a cure for werewolves." I whispered softly. "I see myself curing my dad." Then I slipped out from under his hand and ran back towards the door, grabbing my bag.

He said nothing as I left the room, standing where I had stood, and looking into the eyes of my dead mum.

Or so I thought.

.❤️.

𝕯𝖆𝖉'𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖊 back four days later.

Dear Elizabeth, I would love if you came back for the holidays. That is, if you don't mind me being gone on the 21st. Your grandfather is going to come over and visit with us from the 20th to New Years so you won't have to worry about being alone on the 21st. I don't know what to make of Harry's broom acting like that. It could've been either Professor though I'm inclined to say it most likely wasn't Severus. I can't believe that he would harm Lily's son, even with his hatred for James. I can't believe either Professor would have attempted that. Was Dumbledore in the crowd? It was a risky move, whichever Professor (if it was a Professor) did it. Nicholas Flamel is the famous alchemist who created the sorcerers' stone. That's the stone that creates base metals into gold and also the Elixir of life. I'd love to have that stone (mostly joking). Write back soon if you do plan on coming home for Christmas. All my love, Dad

Writing back, I said I would be coming home for Christmas, which made me start wondering about what to get Dad, Trang, Hermione, Ron, Fred, Hagrid and Harry for Christmas. I might as well throw George in there so there was no bias.

In the end, the gifts were quite simple. I got Fred and George fireworks from the joke shop in Hogsmeade. I also gave Fred an extra gift of Fizzing Wizzbees. I got Ron a box of sugar quills. I got Hagrid a book on Dragon care, a knowing smile on my face when I bought that one.

For Harry, I bought a large plastic container of sherbet levitation balls. For Hermione, I bought a bunch of children wizarding books for her. I decided I would wait until I was back home to buy Dad and Trang's gifts.

.❤️.

𝕺𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉 to last day before break, I walked towards the Great Hall, and saw Hagrid carrying a large Christmas tree, still slightly snow-frosted. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were walking behind him. I ran to catch up, my bag banging against my hip.

"I hate them both. Malfoy and Snape." Harry was saying, scowling. Reaching into my visions I saw that moments before, Snape had taken house points from Gryffindor because of Malfoy. Past-event visions were much easier to twist and shape now that I had a rough hang on them.

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas." Hagrid was saying, "Oh hello there Elizabeth."

"Hi Hagrid." I said, looking around.

The hall looked wonderful. Holly and mistletoe were plastered to the walls and hung from the ceiling. There were twelve large Christmas trees, so big I was surprised that even Hagrid had been able to carry them in. They were decorated with baubles, candles, holly, candy canes, and icicles. Magic and decorating truly went together.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked, setting the last tree down in the corner.

"Just one." Hermione replied, "And that reminds me- Harry, Elizabeth, Ron, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

I discretely rolled my eyes while Ron said slowly, "Oh yeah, you're right."

"The library?" Hagrid asked, following us out of Great hall into the bustling corridor. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

If I'd been alone, I would've said yes. I used the Christmas, Easter, and Summer holidays as time to catch up on my Muggle school studies in addition to my magical studies. But I wasn't alone and I was still a little self-conscious about the fact that I was doing Muggle homework.

"Oh, we're not working." Harry said in a bright voice. I grinned, and then hid my smile, feeling just a little bad for Hagrid cause he probably felt terrible for spilling the name. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."

"Yer what?" Hagrid sounded appalled and ashamed, and my sympathy increased tenfold. "Listen here- I've told yeh- drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'".

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all." Hermione said innocently.

I know, I know, I could've told them. But I'd gotten good at this futuristic vision thing by now. They could figure it out on their own without me, and there was a specific timeline of when they needed to figure out certain things. I could tell them, just not at this exact moment. After Christmas break I could. Harry needed to try out the invisibility cloak first.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry asked innocently. He was very good at the innocent look. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere- just give us a hint- I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin'" said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves then." Ron said. They left for the library, but I stayed behind with Hagrid, telling Hermione I'd catch up with them in a moment. Hagrid looked after them, disgruntled and anxious.

"Hagrid, it's going to be okay. They're not going to find anything until way after Christmas." I said. I shifted the books in my arms. I wanted to get out to the greenhouse before lunch and check up on my plant before leaving for the holidays. I needed a good grade on this project.

"You seem sure about that," Hagrid grunted, walking through the castle with me. I wrapped myself in my jacket and scarf as we exited the castle.

"I am." I said firmly, putting my books into my side bag. "You shouldn't worry about them, they-we- can handle ourselves."

Hagrid stroked his beard and was quiet for a moment, the only sound was our boots tramping on the freshly fallen snow. "Perhaps, but Harry has already had enough trouble, he doesn't need ter get mixed up in this."

"The stone will be safe whether or not Harry and them find out about it." I said, reassuring Hagrid.

Hagrid gave a start. "You know?"

"Hagrid, I know quite a bit." I said, exasperated, but felt my insides squirming guiltily. "I knew who Nicolas Flamel was a long time ago. I just haven't told them yet because now isn't the right time for them to know, if you get what I mean. There's a time for everything, and now isn't it."

Hagrid looked troubled when I left him. I felt relieved. Professor Sprout was the only other person in the greenhouse, checking out everyone else's plants. She beamed at me as I shrugged out of my robes, setting them on a hook near the entrance with my bookbag.

"Miss Kane! Come to check up on your plant, have you?" She asked, making another note on her clipboard.

I nodded, walking over to where my dandelions were growing. "I just hope they're doing well."

"It's one of the best plants in here." She said. "Along with Miss Grangers and Mr Longbottoms."

"Neville's doing well." I grinned.

She nodded. "It's his best subject, or so I'm told."

I checked out my plant, having to grab a step-stool to reach the counter. It did seem to be blossoming beautifully. I checked the drainage and the roots, feeling the soil with my bare finger. Everything seemed to be in perfect condition and there really was nothing else left for me to do to the plant.

"What are you going to be doing for Christmas?" Professor Sprout asked, stopping over a flower that was doing quite poorly and frowning at it, scribbling furiously on the clipboard. I wondered who's plant it was and hoped it was Dracos'.

"I'm going home to my dad's." I said, pulling off a stray, somewhat dead leaf from my plant. "It'll be just us for Christmas, although he mentioned that his dad may come over. I hope so, I haven't seen my grandfather in a couple of years."

She smiled, noting a dead leaf on someone's plant. She tsked, and wrote something down on her clipboard.

"Professor, is there anything else I can do to learn more?" I asked cautiously. I'd asked McGonagall and Snape for extra lessons of course but they'd both turned me down and I didn't want to be turned down by a third teacher.

She looked up at me, slightly amused, slightly confused. "You know you're doing much more than anyone else is doing. Not just in this class I've heard. Professor Flitwick says that you've been getting private lessons from him, and Professor McGonagall said that you asked the same of her. If anything, I'd concentrate on that Astronomy grade of yours from what I hear."

I sighed, disappointed. "Astronomy, Autonomy."

Professor Sprout looked only amused now. "Every magical class is just as important as the other."

I sighed again, knowing that the information was important whether or not I liked it. "I know. I just wish I could find it as interesting as my other classes." I hesitated and then asked, "There really isn't anything else I can do?"

Professor Sprout looked at me for a long moment, a rare, serious look on her face. Then, she handed me the clipboard she'd been using to grade the students. "Here, you can help me grade other students. . . as long as you're fair, of course. Perhaps you could be a PA."

I was pleased. Most students couldn't become Professor Assistants until fifth year.

.❤️.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖉𝖆𝖞 I left with Hermione to board the Hogwarts Express. We sat in a compartment with Susan Bones and talked about what we were going to do over the holiday. Both of them voiced opinions on what I should get my Dad and Muggle girlfriend for Christmas.

When the Trolley witch came along, I realized that I could send Trang candy. Of course, I'd have to be careful to send her something that wasn't magical. Sugar quills that looked like real quills and she could suck on them all day in class. Of course, in America, they probably used ballpoint pens but still, she was a Brit.

Dad was waiting for me at the station, looking a bit ill. There were about a week or so left before the 21st so I wasn't all that surprised. He almost always looked ill, just in different degrees.

He hugged me tightly. "Ah, I've missed you a lot Elizabeth."

"Me too dad." I said, squeezing him tightly. I felt like I was ten again, just a kid, and not someone who seemed to have the fate of the world on her shoulders. Cause after all, if Quirrell got that stone. . . well who knew what would happen. . .but probably nothing good. I couldn't imagine him taking it for himself, he was to much of a coward. So he must be stealing it for someone more important than him, more powerful, someone who could protect him, right? I just hoped it wasn't Voldemort. . .

Dad decided on side-along apparition to get home quickly. I found it a bit nauseating, but was pleased to be home. Sadie was already here, waiting in my bedroom. I'd told her to stay at the house when she delivered my message to dad.

I spent the rest of the day cleaning up my bedroom. Having not lived in it for a few months, everything had collected dust.

The day after that, I got up early and wrote a note to dad telling him that I had gone to Diagon Alley to look for Christmas presents. I took the floo network and was in Diagon Alley in no time. I searched the shops, looking for anything that stood out for dad and even for Trang- sometimes there were innocent things that were fascinating, but also simple.

Finally, for dad, I found a handsome locket. It wasn't a girly necklace in the shape of a heart or anything like that. It was made of old bronze, but had lost value because of the tarnish- it wasn't goblin made. It was circular shaped and hollow on the inside, tines in place for pictures. It was as big as an American Half-dollar. I paid 37 Galleons and pocketed it.

I had no idea what to get Trang. Sending her just candy seemed to be a bit of a horrible thing to do. I wanted to give her something that she could keep. I went to Flourish and Blotts to see if they had any interesting books that didn't have moving pictures in it.

A majority of books did, but finally I decided to send her a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Considering even in the Muggle world, fantastic beasts were something of the known, though mystical. And the drawings in here were watercolor and they rarely moved. Hopefully, Trang didn't look to closely and if she did. . .well I was sure I could explain it. After all, technology advanced all the time, right?

I visited the broom shop, looking through brooms again. I hesitated at the Nimbus 2000. It was 300 Galleons, more money than I had ever spent in my life. I had the money, I had nearly 10,000 Galleons in my vault yet. . .

I turned away and walked out of the shop. I restated my deal in my head. If I made Hufflepuff Quidditch team next year, then I would buy the broom. Plus, by that time, the price would drop to 220 Galleons and save me money. (That wasn't a futuristic vision- that was just economical math).

Back home, I wrapped Trang's gifts and set them aside. I would send Sadie off with them later today. Or could I? Maybe I'd have to send them through Muggle packages. Could Sadie make a trip over the sea?

I got a moving photo of me from Dad's study, duplicated it, and transfigured it so that it would fit the circular shape of the locket. I fitted it in and stuck it with a permanent sticking charm on the back because I wasn't sure the tines would be strong enough to hold it. On the other side, I placed a lock of my hair. It was something signature in the Wizarding world. I put a thin wrap of plastic over it, using the sticking charm again. I closed the locket, placing it in an ornate box and wrapping it.

I felt my own locket bouncing against my chest and I pulled it out and opened it. Mum and dad smiled up at me, and baby Harry waved his small fist, looking up into mum's face. I smiled and stared at the pictures for a long time until I heard dad come in the room. I snapped it closed and stood up quickly. I shoved the wrapped box into the closet.

Grandfather came a day early and dad left the house the afternoon of the 20th for the forest.

.❤️.

𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖒𝖆𝖘 𝕯𝖆𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖊 and I woke up early. I crept down the stairs so I didn't wake dad or grandfather.

There were more presents under the tree than I was used to, and there was also a large something with a blanket over it. Noises were coming from it- moving noises- and I was quite tempted to look under it. I refrained myself from looking in case it was a magical creature. I'd much rather have dad around if something went wrong.

I cooked breakfast instead- for the adults at least. I was quite content with eating only candy, cookies, and sweets today. I made cheesy scrambled eggs (because that was how Grandfather liked them) and then two separate sunny side up eggs for Dad (his favorite). Then there was bacon and sausage links. I put a pot of water on the stove to boil for tea.

Dad and grandfather woke up around nine. Well, actually, I got impatient and woke them up. Most of the presents were for me, though Dad did like his locket. (Or at least he said he did but he was a horrible liar, so I was quite content he was telling the truth). I didn't expect him to wear it either because it wasn't that great of a gift, but he slipped it around his neck when I wasn't looking and tucked it under his robes. Grandfather had gotten him new work robes and also some books, though I wasn't entirely sure what they were on.

Hermione had given me some of her favorite Muggle history books along with a couple of fiction ones too. She'd given me a new book called The Awakening: Volume I. It was about a girl named Elena Gilbert and two brothers Stefan and Damon Salvatore. It had vampires, witches, and werewolves in it and I couldn't wait to read it. Plus, looking at the characters on the cover. . . Damon was hot.

Ron and George had both gotten me Chocolate Frogs. Unfortunately, I didn't get any new cards to add to my collection. However, it did put my number of Helga Hufflepuff cards to an even 46.

From Hagrid, I got a carved statuette in the shape of a rabbit. It was standing on its hind legs, both ears pointed upwards. It was adorable and I was incredibly happy that Hagrid had taken the time to make it for me. I put it up on a partly empty shelf in my bedroom above my dresser.

Fred had sent me a box of sour gummies from Honey Dukes, along with a small woven bracelet with small bands on it that were meant for separate charms. It came with a broom charm. I put it on right away.

Trang had sent me a rather large box with a divider down the middle. On one side, she had sent me a bunch of books that she had found in America, including the same copy of the Vampire Diary book that Hermione had sent me. Luckily, that was the only duplicate. On the other side was a bunch of different American sweets that I had never heard before. Zotz, Mega Warheads, Tear Jerkers, Sour jacks, pop rocks, a container with a singular mega jawbreaker, DinoSour Eggs, and something called an astro pop. I could only assume that they weren't dangerous because they were Muggle candy.

Harry had also given me a book and also different patterned bookmarks, which I hadn't expected but rather liked. Most of them were Quidditch designed and all in Hufflepuff colors except for one which was in Gryffindor colors. The book was also on Quidditch.

I finally set those aside, leaving two presents from dad, and one present from grandfather. Neither of those included whatever was under the blanket.

The first thing from dad was a small box. Undoing the wrapping paper, I opened it and saw that it was a small bracelet. It was made of small linked chains, possibly of silver. There was a small moon charm on it and I grinned. My fingers fumbled with the clasp but I managed to get it on my wrist right next to Fred's bracelet.

"Thanks Dad." I said, grinning up at him.

He chuckled. "You haven't even opened the better present."

I reached under the tree and pulled out a longer package. I felt it in my hands and looked up at dad in shock. "A broomstick?"

He simply smiled.

I tore off the wrapping paper and there was the Nimbus 2000 that I had been looking at in the store only six days ago. "But-why- how- I mean- this" I stuttered over my words, trying to express my gratitude, while also expressing my worry over the money.

"I thought it was about time that you had a proper broom." Dad said. "I know you're worried about the money, but don't worry about it, okay?"

I jumped up, ran over, and hugged him tightly, unable to express my thanks in words properly.

"You will make the team next year, right?" Grandfather joked. "Would be a shame if you didn't make it."

I nodded multiple times, still speechless.

Grandfather's gift was a necklace. It had been grandmother's at one point and he wanted me to have it. Since I was already wearing everyone's jewelry, I slipped it on as well. It came to rest a couple of inches above my belly button, but it had been designed to be longer. There was a sapphire at the bottom of it and the chain was silver.

I pointed to the blanket apprehensively. "What's under there?"

Both Lupin and Lyall laughed. "Go ahead and take a look." Grandfather said with a grin.

I approached it slowly, unsure what sort of creature was going to leap up at me. There were multiple different magical creatures that could be kept as pets, but I already had Sadie. Oh, perhaps it was a crup puppy? Those were incredibly cute. Or a Kneazle kit?

I pulled the blanket off and it took me a moment to realize what I was seeing. I fell to my knees, opened the cage door, and pulled out the adorable little bunny that was sitting in it. I squealed with delight as I held it on my shoulder ,and it licked my ear, pushing its soft tiny nose against my cheek. I nearly fainted with happiness, joy, and enthusiasm. As it was, I squealed.

"Thank you Grandfather, thank you so much." I said. I ran back over to the couch and sat between them.

"Well you're very welcome sweetheart." He said, putting an arm around my shoulder.

"And thank you dad." I said, unable to stop smiling. "This has really been one of the best Christmas I've ever had." I beamed up at him.

The rest of the day went well. The bunny ran around as I cooked Christmas dinner which was ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green bean casserole, pickled beets, black olives, banana peppers, pumpkin pie, apple cider, and grape cider. Grandfather was impressed by how well I was doing in the kitchen, even though I was only eleven. I overheard them talking in the breakfast room.

"She's taught herself to cook ever since she was seven." Lupin said quietly. I obviously wasn't supposed overhear. "She would bring home cookbooks and look for ingredients, or ask me to take her to the store so she could get them and then she'd make it. I'm ashamed to admit that I thought she was going to burn the house down, at first, but she's really gotten excellent at it. She's the smartest girl I know. I actually got a complimentary letter from Professor Sprout saying she's one of her most dedicated students. I don't know what Elizabeth's doing up at Hogwarts, but I'd say she's excelling indeed."

Professor Sprout had actually done that? I wondered if Professor McGonagall had sent one to Hermione's parents. Then again, Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout were very different. Professor Sprout had probably sent out several letters to student's parents.

At that moment, a vision came out of nowhere. Harry had gotten Dad's invisibility cloak. I dived deeper into the vision, in order to see what dad's cloak had looked like. Harry was trying it on in front of Ron. Everything but his head disappeared. I wished, at that moment, that I had something of dad's or mum's.

Then, I immediately felt ashamed of myself, and wrenched out of the vision. How could I think like that? After everything Lupin had done for me! After the incredibly expensive gift that he'd given me today. And he was willing to do everything for me. How could I be so ungrateful?

I carefully placed the wooden spoon that I was using to mix the mashed potatoes down on the counter. I quickly turned everything off on the stove and put lids over the food so the heat would stay in. I hurried past dad and grandfather so that I could get upstairs to the bathroom.

"Elizabeth?" Dad asked, concerned as I passed.

I didn't turn around and just said, "bathroom" as normally as possible. I raced up the stairs and hurried into the bathroom.

I stared at myself in the mirror as though the word selfish would be printed across my forehead in capital letters. I observed myself. I no longer wore my glasses, and I could now see the resemblance I had to mum. My brown hair had more red tints and my face was starting to shape like hers. The brown eyes were the only difference, the difference between the two of us looking nearly identical.

"I'm selfish." I whispered aloud. I sounded much younger than I wanted to. "I can't be selfish anymore." Never again, would I wish for anything. I would make the most out of everything. That stupid mirror!

There was a knock at the door. "Elizabeth?" Dad asked in concern. "Are you alright?"

I opened the door. "Yeah, I just had a vision." I said.

His brow creased in concern. "About what?"

I hesitated and then said, "Well I saw what Harry had gotten for Christmas. Dumbledore gave him James's old invisibility cloak. I had a momentary fleeting wish that I had something of mums' or James' and immediately felt horrible because you've already given me so much that I shouldn't be wishing for anything else. Especially the broom! I love the broom! How could I be so selfish and want more?"

Dad stared at me for a second and then, to my shock and slight horror, he burst out laughing. "Elizabeth, you're young! You're supposed to be selfish and want more than you have. It's natural. Especially those who grow up without a lot of money, it's natural to want something every once in a while."

I shook my head, feeling frustrated and slightly abashed. Was Dad saying it was alright to be selfish? "I don't want to be selfish. I really am satisfied with what I have. I swear, it was just a fleeting thought."

Dad laughed aloud again and that was the end of the conversation. I felt much better as I went downstairs to finish off dinner. If he was laughing, then there really wasn't anything to worry about.

It was dark and cold after dinner, but I still took the broomstick out with dad to a nearby clearing in the woods nearby that was empty and had good tree coverage. I took off on the broomstick, feeling the wind on the my face, stinging my eyes. It was freezing, but I was exhilarated. We didn't stay long though, and we headed back to the house for dessert and I played with the bunny rabbit.

He was a lion-lop (lionhead x English lop mix) rabbit with white and gray coloring. He had lots of baby fur around his face and on his butt, covering his tail. I called him Sushi which was an adorable name. Eventually, I thought, I'm going to get him a girl rabbit so they could mate and play. And I'll name her. . . well what color would she be? If she's brown it'll be cinnamon. If she's black she'll be. . . chocolate. No? What good food is black cause chocolates brown. . .Licorice? Coffee? Ink Pasta? Hmm. . . I just won't get a black rabbit. A white rabbit's easy though- Marshmallow, rice, cracker, or vanilla. Probably Rice. Rice and Sushi.'

Grandfather left for his home on New Year's Day and I spent quality time with Daddy and Sushi. Sadie came back with a letter from Trang, asking how I had managed to get such a wonderfully trained owl, and also thank you for the presents. I had forgotten to send the presents by Muggle post, but Trang's letter didn't seem to care much, only finding the situation amusing, and her host parents thought it was amazing and asked if all Brits did that for Christmas.

Dad and I talked about my visions and what we thought some of them might mean. I confessed that I knew Harry, Ron, and Hermione were going to go after the stone if Dumbledore left Hogwarts, and I knew that he would eventually, though I didn't know when. I also confessed that I was torn between going with them and telling an adult.

Dad didn't say much on it, only saying that James would've gone, and Lily would've told a teacher.

"Either way, you'll be doing as your parents would've done and I know that matters a lot to you." He said kindly but I wondered if he felt sad on a deeper level.

"What would you have done?" I asked. "Or really, what would you do?"

"Does my opinion matter that much to you?" He asked lightly. I climbed up off the floor where I was playing with Sushi and curled up next to him on the couch, resting my head on his shoulder. His arm went around my shoulder.

"Your opinion means the world to me." I whispered.

"Follow your heart, I think. I'm not entirely sure what I would do if I was in your position. I suppose I would've gone, I think, James definitely could've gotten me to go. But ultimately, the choice is up to you. If there's a bad outcome, you need to tell a teacher. Only you know how the situation is going to play out."

"Hagrid's going to get a dragon." I said, changing the subject. "That ought to be interesting, he'll want us to help raise it."

Dad shuddered with horror so we didn't talk about my visions any more after that. Then eventually it was time to go back to Hogwarts and I went, leaving my broomstick and Sushi behind. I brought nearly everything else with me except for a couple books that I couldn't fit into my trunk.

"I'll see you when school ends." Dad said, kissing my cheek good-bye. I returned the kiss. "But please, stay safe, and stay hidden in the crowds. I'd hate to think about any other alternatives where you're not safe."

I think that was his way of saying what he thought. He was telling me not to go on that adventure with Harry.

But would I listen when the time came?

⬅️➡️

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cat-loves-music · 2 years ago

Text

Exercise

Prompt: “Can we please stop running? I think I’m dying.”

Setting: FBI training course (Season 9 Episode 18 "Rabid")

Request: No

POV: Y/n

Words: 848

~•~•~•~•~♡~•~•~•~•~

I don't know how long it's been since we started running but all I know is that my legs are burning from the exercise. Spencer and Penelope stop a few feet ahead of me, trying to catch their breath. Catching up to them, I fall to my knees and lay down on the grass.

"8:49. Good God that's not even close," Garcia pants, her breathing heavy

Spence comments, "Why does it have to be such a fast mile?"

"I don't know but this is the most exercise that I've had to do in my life," I complain, the warm sunlight streaming on my face.

"Have y'all ever had to run a mile in the field?" Pen questions.

"Nope," I answer, "not even close."

"I'm not even in the field," she continues, "I sit at a computer on my perfect posterior like all day."

"Maybe we should ask Morgan for help?" Spencer suggests.

"No," Garcia replies.

"Absolutely not," I say as I sit up, my muscles aching, "he'd just make it harder than it already is."

I look over at Garcia, who is trying to stifle a laugh and I playfully glare at her, "Don't even."

She shrugs and laughs, "It's not my fault you said something that can be dirty if you put the right mind to it."

I shake my head in disappointment and Spencer pants as he continues, "But he has really good abs."

I lay back down, "Amen to that."

"Yes he does, but it’s bad enough some bureaucrat is making us take this stupid test," Garcia adds, "the last thing we need it Mr. Universe talking smack the whole time."

"He does know about this stuff, but then again we're already struggling enough," I said.

"He could probably like, teach us tricks and help us train," Spencer replies.

"We aren't dogs, Spence," I chuckle then groan in pain, "oh my lungs."

"I just hope the P.T. instructor isn't a jerk," Garica states, "those jock guys are always jerks."

"Don't jinx it Pen, we don't need that kind of karma," I replied.

"Uh oh, here he comes," Penelope says as she points to the hooded man who was walking towards us, "and such a total jerk walk too."

"If that's Morgan, I swear to everything on this earth I'm gonna kill somebody," I groan, "and it's gonna be him if he makes us do more exercise."

He gets closer and of course I probably jinxed it since it's most definitely Morgan.

"Hello ladies, how we doin'?" Morgan asks.

"No offense but why are you here?" I asked.

"Looks like I'm your new P.T. instructor," he chuckles.

All three of us groan.

"Oh no, don't give me that," Morgan laughs, "you know, you guys should have said something. I could have had the whole thing waived."

"How were we supposed to know?" Spence asks.

Morgan shrugs with an evil grin on his face.

"Too late now I suppose," I sighed, "let's get this mile over with."

"You didn’t hear?" Morgan starts. "The fit test is more than a mile."

My heart sinks, You've gotta be kidding me.

"Let’s go, let's go!" Morgan encourages as he makes us do so much grueling exercise.

We had to run up and down the bleachers and do agility tests just to name a few. We still had a run to do, but my muscles burned, my body felt numb, and I could barely breathe. Spencer, Penelope, and I collapsed on the ground, our breathing heavy.

"Can we please stop running? I think I'm dying?" I complain.

"Hey, hey, what’s with all this huffin' and puffin'? We still got a 2 mile run to do," Morgan informed.

"Morgan–I love you–you know I do, but there’s no way in hell my ass is doing that today," I replied, my voice a bit hoarse from lack of air.

"What she said," Spencer added.

Morgan laughs, "Alright, I guess it's time for me to let the cat out of the bag."

My body tried to sit up to look at him, but it quickly refused, my back hitting the ground to catch my breath.

"I kinda already had your fitness test waived," he trailed off, a cheeky smile on his face.

"What?" Spencer asked, confused.

"I mean come on, Babygirl, you're not even in the field," Morgan explains, "and you guys already have enough hours to qualify."

"If my legs didn't feel like jelly, I would kill you," I stated.

"Oh I'm gonna kill him," Garcia replies trying to tackle him.

"If I can manage to lift my arms, I'll hold him down," Spencer promises.

I finally manage to sit up, "I'll join ya in a minute. I'm regaining my strength."

Well more like watch the show of Spencer and Penelope trying to chase Morgan around the field was a better pastime than actually joining in.

"Waiting for you, Y/n!" Spencer calls out.

I laugh, "Comin'!"

I get up and try my best to tackles Morgan, but Garcia manages to first and we all fall to the ground in laughter.

//////////////////////////////////////♡\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Hiiii guys! Hope you liked it! I've been working on this for a while but I finally finished it. I should have a masterlist of all my works on Tumblr soon. Maybe even some new works I might have in store than I need to work on. Love y'all!

#criminal minds imagines #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x reader #derek morgan imagine #penelope garcia

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zoeykallus · 3 years ago

Text

Arcane - Little Flower Part 3 - Cupidos

Silco x female!reader

Warning: SMUT! 18+ Trigger Warning Dubious Consent/Drug Abuse/Mentions Of Pain/Angst/PiV/ ____________ Author's Comment (May be important this time): This isn't aiming to be sexy nor sweet or fluffy and it probably shows. Mind the warning! Minors DNI! I don't really know why I did this. Don't blame me, most of the time I don't know what I'm doing.

My Silco Wiritng Playlist: Little Flower

PS: Reblogging and Commenting is always welcome.

___________

What Happened Before:

Little Flower

Little Flower Part 2 - Safe And Sound

Part 3 - Cupidos

You had heard of her, but not very much. Jinx. Here and there you had picked up snippets of conversation in the club, but all in all she seemed to be trouble. The look she gave you was anything but encouraging, at least for now.

"New girlfriend?" she asked cockily, "prettier than the last one".

It seemed better to keep your mouth shut for the time being, the situation was awkward enough without your intervention.

Silco just sighed in surrender and greeted the girl with surprising affection and indulgence. Obviously, he had more than one soft spot. However, that still didn't fool you about other things you knew about him. You knew many stories, even if you didn't know which ones were true, you knew he had a cruel, unyielding and dark side.

Again and again Jinx's gaze wandered in your direction and there was a certain anger in it that you couldn't quite place yet.

"What's your name?" she asked you suddenly.

You were so surprised that you didn't react immediately.

"Are you deaf? I asked you a question" the girl asked impatiently and walked towards you.

Silco, who was sitting behind his desk again for the moment, raised his voice admonishingly if gently, "Jinx, stop that."

"Why? It's a simple questioner isn't it? You have a name, don't you?"

Jinx came as close as if she wanted to smell you.

"Y/N" you finally answered her.

Jinx grinned.

"I kinda like that name" very sudden her mood seemed to change, "Hey I made some new fireworks, do you want to come and look at them?"

Surprised and confused, your eyes briefly wandered back and forth between father and daughter. Silco watched you intently and thoughtfully. Finally nodded to you. You swallowed, not really having much interest in being alone with Jinx.

The girl looked at you expectantly.

"Um, yeah sure, I'd love to," you finally broke out.

"Jinx," Silco said calmly but firmly as you were about to leave the office "Bring her back to me in one piece! You hear?"

Jinx rolled her eyes and said, "She's an adult, she'll be able to take care of herself."

You heard Silco sigh before he replied in his typical calm manner, "She's not like us, my dear."

You were uncomfortable with the way they were talking about you in third person in your presence, but you kept your mouth shut.

"You mean she's one of those, as you call them, lost souls of Zaun?"

Silco nodded slowly and said quietly, "Something like that, yes. Don't put her in danger unnecessarily"

"Okay!" chirped Jinx, yanking you out the door with her.

Silco sighed and looked at the open door. He finally stood up and closed it thoughtfully. He figured if you could get through an evening with Jinx without dying or fleeing, you were probably long-term material. It was a good test. Part of him wanted to leave it to fate, another in the back of his mind already wanted to chase you down and play it safe. But he called himself a fool, he couldn't let his feelings affect him so much, or Sevika would end up being right about you.

Jinx was a bundle of energy, she was exhausting and obviously didn't have it all together. But somehow, she was also amusing and surprisingly playful and in need of attention.

Her cave was a strange place. Even stranger was the body on the rotten old sofa in the corner. You decided not to ask any questions about it for the time being.

So she was Silco's daughter, so she could hardly be normal. However, Jinx was much more special than you expected. Her private realm was full of strange things, most of them sharp, explosive, or otherwise dangerous.

Silently you made a mental note not to touch anything. You wondered why Silco had allowed her to take you here. But you could understand that he wanted you to get along with Jinx, after all she was his daughter and he seemed to really love her, in his own way. However, you doubted his parenting, and not just a little bit, looking around the place.

"Look!" exclaimed Jinx happily, snapping you out of your thoughts.

She held papers under your nose. They were plans, blueprints for all sorts of things, Mainly fireworks and.... Grenades.

"Did you make these?"

She nodded eagerly.

You skimmed the data and notes. They were a little chaotic but creative and not bad at all. Just a few years ago you had made sketches like these yourself, dreamed of designing things, of all kinds, though not necessarily hand grenades.

"They're good" you said honestly "A little rough but good, very creative"

Jinx beamed, "Finally someone who knows something about this!"

You laughed, " Well, not necessarily about grenades, but with the fireworks we could throw some ideas together"

"You know, fireworks and grenades, there's not really that much of a difference."

Silco couldn't wait, he stood in the shadows and watched you secretly for a while. To say the least, he was surprised how you got along, you were gentle and Jinx, well, Jinx was Jinx, he loved her but also knew that she was special. But to his surprise you were getting along fine until now. He listened to you and smiled, he saw how you were actually enjoying it and seemed to be absorbed in your common goal. His heart opened when he saw you both laughing, the sound was wonderful. He could never let anything happen to either of you.

-----

"Where is your family anyway?" asked Jinx more or less casually as she watched you make a few changes to her drawing.

You paused in mid-motion, glancing up briefly. You could have sworn you saw movement somewhere in the shadows. But finally you put it down to your imagination and said: "They cast me out, or rather I ran away before they could cast me out".

Jinx blinked, waiting for you to explain more.

"Why?" she finally probed.

With a melancholy sigh you said, "Those sketches you do, I did stuff like that too, but for buildings, architecture and structural engineering, I was really good at it. My father got in touch with the upper city, wanted to get me a good education.... at least that's what I thought. He found an architect who saw my sketches and wanted to meet me," you broke off and swallowed the hard lump in your throat, the memory still burning on your soul.

Jinx acutally looked at you, listening critically, "Okay so far I could follow you, what happened next?"

"The first time the architect saw me he changed his mind, he didn't want me as his apprentice, but he still wanted me.... own me. He started negotiating with my father in my presence, trying to buy me off him as if I had no opinion or choice on the subject at all. At first it looked like my father wouldn't allow it, but I soon realized he was negotiating instead of defending me. At a certain price, he finally buckled."

"Gross! That's some heavy shit! And then you ran away so you wouldn't be forced to go with that architect?"

You nodded, cleared your throat and turned back to the drawing.

"Then you're a stray too, like I was when Silco found me back then".

You laughed softly, countinuing the sketch, "Yes, you can call me that, I'm a stray."

Contrary to your expectations, it was fun to spend time with Jinx, the time flew by. There were moments when you were worried because she seemed to have lapses where she didn't seem to be in her right mind and mumbled words you didn't understand. But most of the time you got along wonderfully, probably because you were so gentle and adaptable.

"How's it looking girls? The world on fire yet?" you heard Silco's voice coming closer.

You turned and saw him coming toward you.

"Not yet, but we're trying!" said Jinx, and it almost sounded like a promise.

He chuckled.

"Jinx, do you think I can have Y/N to myself for a while?"

The girl made a pout, "If she can visit me again tomorrow, then yes".

Silco smirked.

"You'll have to ask her that, not me".

Jinx looked at you expectantly. You had to smile, you agreed, so far it had gone quite well and your fears had not been confirmed for now.

"Sure. If you want, I'll come back tomorrow," you promised her.

Satisfied, Jinx turned back to her blueprint and concentrated on making a few changes, she was going to impress you tomorrow.

Back in Silco's office.

You carefully pushed the door into the lock behind you, as it was your way, while Silco went to his desk.

"What's that?" muttered Silco more to himself than to you.

When you looked up you saw that he was looking at a box that stood on his desk. It was quite simple, made of cardboard, tied up. A note was attached to it. You stood there uncertainly, not sure if the whole thing was any of your business.

He opened the envelope and frowned.

"Hmm, surprising," he murmured.

Although you were unsure if you should get involved, you heard yourself ask, "What?"

Silco looked up, waved the letter around, and explained, "A few days ago I had a dispute with a... let's call it colleague... or rather rival, concerning the drug market."

At the word drug you felt a knot in your stomach, that Silco produced and sold shimmer, had been temporarily blanked out of your mind.

"So?" you probed, still standing at the door.

He gave a rudimentary shrug and replied, "Said rival sent me this package it seems. This letter says it is compensation for the inconvenience. Whatever that means."

Hesitantly, he looked at the package. He wondered who had put it on his desk, he had not locked the office in his haste to follow you. So basically it could have been anyone.

"Maybe you'd better not open it," you warned him out of a very gut feeling.

He glanced at you, seeming to weigh whether you might be right. Finally, curiosity got the better of him, he pulled the string around the package and lifted the lid.

He immediately regretted it. With a poof, something burst in the box and dark purple smoke shot straight into his face. He coughed, the thick smoke scratching his throat and leaving a strange taste, sweetish and oddly spicy at the same time.

He looked up and saw your startled, horrified face.

"Silco! Are you okay?!"

His chest rose and fell slowly but violently.

"Silco?"

"You'd better go now," he pressed out, strangely strained.

Confused, you blinked.

"What, why? I can't leave you alone now! What was that?"

"Go now, please!" he repeated.

Actually, you weren't exactly the stubborn sort but you crossed your arms in front of your chest and took a few steps towards the table.

"Y/N, please, you have to go now," he begged you, sounding almost desperate.

"Why?"

Silco gritted his teeth.

"The rival I told you about is distributing a drug that..." he interrupted himself with a groan, clenching his teeth for a moment. You saw sweat break out on his forehead. "The drug is a sex drug, a hyper effective aphrodisiac.... used mainly to... to make people compliant for sex or to get themselves in.... into a frenzy."

"Make people compliant? That's disgusting," you grumbled, losing what he was actually trying to say.

Nodding, he growled, "One of the reasons I wanted it off the market, not the main reason admittedly, but a reason.... you have to go now do you understand?!"

"But... oh... how strong is this stuff?" you asked, slowly walking backwards to the door as it dawned on you what he meant to tell you the whole time.

His expression changed, he looked at you like a predator looks at its prey as he slowly got up from the table. In this way he actually looked scary, hot, but dangerous.

"Oh crap," you cursed under your breath as you turned on your heel. At the same moment you could hear Silco jumping over the table and crossing the room with quick steps.

In a fraction of a moment, your pulse quickened, a shiver ran down your spine and gave you goosebumps, you hastily grabbed the doorknob, pulled the door open a bit. But before you could really open it, he was right behind you. Silco's hand slammed flat on the door and rammed it shut again, pressing against you from behind, pressed you against the wood of the door.

He was breathing hard, his hands gripping your hips fiercely, and you could clearly feel his hard length against your ass through the fabric of both your clothes as he pressed greedily against you. Sandwiched between him and the door, you could barely move, not even daring to for the moment.

You realized you should be more afraid, but as he held you gripped like that, his erection grinding against your butt, you felt heat seep between your thighs.

"You should have left when you could," he said in a voice rough with arousal.

His muscles trembled slightly, his fingers digging so hard into your hips that you made a pained sound.

"Sorry," he pressed out, letting go of your hips and pulling back a bit from you.

It took him oodles of strength and self-control. The damn stuff was a lot stronger than he'd imagined, but he'd probably gotten a disproportionate dose.

When you tried to open the door again and leave the office, he couldn't help but stop you again. The door slammed back into the lock as he pushed it shut. Silco dragged you back to the desk, you didn't really resist, didn't really even know how or if you really wanted to.

He bent you over the table, with impatient hasty fingers, he opened your pants and yanked them down along with your panties, eliciting a startled little scream from you. This was so wrong, yet you felt the wetness between your legs hot and expectant.

With one hand pressed to your lower back, he held you on the table, the other going between your thighs. You squealed and he sucked in a sharp breath as he noticed that you were wet. He pulled his hand back again and hastily opened his belt, his pants and unwrapped his thick cock. In the next moment you already felt the tip at your hot, wet entrance. This time he didn't wait like last night, he penetrated you immediately and the stretch was a little painful. You whimpered softly, whereupon he paused.

Silco clawed both hands into the edge of the tabletop to ground himself. In his head, hardly a clear thought was possible, yet your whimpering had brought him back to reality for a brief moment, but only very briefly, the next moment he didn't even know why his fingers were clawing so hard into the tabletop.

He started to move, deep inside you, it didn't really hurt anymore, but still felt like it was just too much, he was too much, his completely mindless heated presence. But at the same time, this dominance turned you on incredibly and a mixture of shame and desire burned up inside you.

Silco quickly picked up speed, pounded into you, faster and faster his hips meeting your ass again and again. One of his hands went into your hair and pulled it, pulling your head back. Your back arched back towards him with a yelp. The tug made tears shoot into your eyes. His other hand was again pressed on your lower back to hold you in place. The room was filled with the sound of naked skin slapping on naked skin, his grunts and groans and your whimpers and moans.

Silco continued to pull on your hair, by now your eyes were watering and your face was wet, yet the hot tingle in your slit continued to build steadily with each of his quick thrusts. Neither of you said even a word, that was not at all necessary.

When he suddenly let go of your hair again, you sighed in relief and tilted your head back towards the tabletop. Silco grabbed your hips with both hands as his thrusts became irregular, you realized that he was about to cum inside you. The thought alone washed you over the edge, the steadily building heat coming out in a violent wave, making the walls of your cleft quiver around his length. With a low growl, Silco came inside you, spilling his load in your pussy.

His hands on your hips were hot, almost as if he had a fever. Silco didn't stop though, he just slowed down for a moment and then picked up the pace again, still hard, greedy and stubborn. You were surprised yourself, but you felt the familiar tingle building again.

He' d already pushed you so far onto the table with his thrusts that the tips of your toes were barely touching the floor. With his semen in your cleft, each thrust was accompanied by a wet, obscene sound that made your face burn with shame. One of your hands tried to get between your legs, but the table was in the way. A little frustrated, you realized that the tingling sensation was slowly fading and penetration alone was simply not enough. Silco didn't allow you to move even a little bit, so you had to do without.

He continued to take you, breathing heavily, panting. When he poured into you the second time, you already felt sore. But he was still hard and made no effort to leave your body. When he began to move inside you again, you let out a low, half-desperate whimper. His semen had been dripping from your cleft onto the floor for a long time, running partially down his shaft onto his balls, staining his pants, not to mention your pants which were only half pulled down.

Suddenly he pulled you back a bit from the table so that your feet were on the floor again and there was a little space between your hips and the tabletop. One of his hands moved forward to your pearl and began to gently massage it. A sigh that was somewhere between relief, surprise and hope came out of your throat. Apparently, his brain seemed to be starting to function again.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled between heavy breaths "It's starting to wear off.... finally..."

Silco leaned down, kissing your back. His thrusts became slower, more deliberate, gentler. At some point he finally stopped, the effects of the drug had worn off. You felt him slowly soften inside you, but he didn't stop massaging your pearl until your body allowed you to climax, albeit a rather feeble one, as the now throbbing pain in your cleft unfortunately overshadowed any other sensation for the moment.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated still out of breath as he looked down at both of you.

Hot anger burned inside him, but he pulled himself together in your presence for now. However, someone would pay for what had just happened here, with blood, a lot of blood.

You didn't dare move, but you felt so exposed that you stood up and wanted to pull up your pants, but stopped in mid-motion when you saw the mess. Your panties and pants were filthy and we don't even need to talk about what was still running down the inside of your thighs.

Gritting your teeth, you suppressed a curse.

"I'm too old for marathons like this," you heard him groan wearily.

He looked at you and saw your dilemma, had to suppress the impulse not to apologize to you again. Actually, Silco was not at all the sort who liked to apologize, or apologized at all, here and now though, it was something else.

He had wrapped himself up again for the time being and closed his pants to help you first, after all he was more or less to blame for your situation.

Surprised you watched as he knelt in front of you to take off your shoes and then your pants and panties. Silco led you into the bedroom, there was another door leading to a bathroom. It was surprisingly big. He strode towards the tub with the golden feet, turned on the tap and filled it with hot water.

He glanced over his shoulder for a moment and said, "Take the rest off too."

Hesitantly still a little spent and feeling out of place , you complied with the request.

Finally, you stood naked in Silco's bathroom while he poured you bath water. He eventually sat down on the edge and waited for the tub to fill. He looked at you but you shied away from his gaze as he tried to look you in the eye. After everything that had happened earlier, you were kind of uncomfortable.

"Will you be able to look me in the eye again someday?" he asked softly.

"Doesn't feel like it, no," you admitted in a hoarse voice.

You heard him sigh, sounding tired and melancholy.

When the tub was full, he grabbed your hand and helped you get in. You could barely lift your leg over the edge without wincing. The sight made his guts squirm.

As you sat down, he heard you suck in air sharply and saw you lean back in the tub with some hesitancy.

"Too hot?" he asked, at the same time putting his hand into the water, examining it.

"It's pretty warm, but no, it just... burns".

When he looked at you questioningly you explained tentatively, "Down there, you know.... About earlier"

Silco lowered his eyes, turned around, sat on the floor and leaned back against the tub, giving you some privacy without really giving you any. He wasn't looking at you at the moment, but he was still sitting next to you at the tub.

After a while of silence he said softly, "It was not my intention to hurt you, Cupidos, the drug, was much stronger than I expected. The dose I got was pretty big too."

Silently you listened to him, you knew all this, but what could you say to it? It didn't get any better from his explanation, but you didn't really blame him either.

Silco continued, "Most of the time I was aware of what I was doing, what was happening, but my perception was different.... I..."

You put a wet hand on his right shoulder and gently interrupted, "I know. I don't blame you, if that's your concern"

He sighed, put his long, slender left hand over your hand on his shoulder, leaned his head back on the edge of the tub and said calmly but seriously, "Yesterday I promised you that I wouldn't hurt you."

"You didn't, not really".

You straightened up into a sitting position in the tub, leaning on the edge of the bathtub and wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind. At first Silco seemed surprised, but eventually leaned his head back against your shoulder, took one of your hands in his and gently kissed the knuckles.

Lost in thought, you thought about what effect this drug had and would have on others.You did not like the idea that people should be made sexually compliant against their will. Just the thought was disgusting and made you angry.

"Silco?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you promise me something?"

He turned to you in his seated position and your hands settled on the back of his neck, your fingers gently playing with his hairline.

"Only if I know for sure I can keep the promise," he said quietly.

You nodded, "Sounds fair."

"So?" he inquired "What do you want me to promise you?"

You finally looked him in the eye again "Make sure the drug goes away, forever."

A barely noticeable grim smile was on his lips as he calmly said "That's a promise I can definitely keep. I promise you, the drug will soon be gone forever, along with everyone responsible for it."

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rogue-durin-16 · 2 years ago

Text

EIGHTEEN, CRAZY (Part IV/?)

"Corroded Coffin"

Summary: With her highschool experience coming to an end, Y/n finally grows tired of her parents' long lasting effort to make her the perfect girl; if they refuse to let her live her best life, she'll make them live their worst— and what can possibly be worse than having your lovely daughter mingling with Eddie Munson?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Genre: mostly fluff/fake dating

Tags:

Eighteen, crazy: @greetings-and-salutations @ozdramaqueen

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: probably just language? Damn

A/N: this one's a little bit longer but it's fine bc we get a glimpse of corroded coffin and we love that. I saw someone name Unnamed Freak #1 Grant bc of the actor, so we're sticking with that. Enjoy<3

Prologue Part I Part II Part III

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"—and when I tell you she was ruthless... Ugh." Lizzy's eyes rolled back in annoyance, fingers carding throw her hair to move it out of the way as we walked the halls in her locker's direction. "Anyway, my point is, you made the right choice by not coming to Tina's yesterday."

"Not much of a choice there, was it?" I corrected her, keeping my eyes front. "I had to tutor Eddie."

A single amused laugh left my friend's mouth. "He's a bit of a nightmare, isn't he?" Before I could agree with her, Lizzy pointed at four punk boys idling near Ms. O'Donnell's classroom. "Speaking of the devil."

To the blonde's surprise —and mine—, I jogtrotted to the group until I was at arm's reach and tapped Eddie's back, until then turned to us.

"Hey!" He seemed taken aback by my cheerful demeanor and took him a painfully long instant to snap out of the confusion and jump into character, a toothy grin tugging on the corners of his mouth as he turned his body to face me.

"Well good morning, m'lady." Stealing a quick look at his friends, I wondered how much they knew about our arrangement. Taking in consideration their distrustful visages, probably not a lot. "Hey, Lizzy."

My head spun to see my friend, who had caught up with my quick pace, and was now subtly waving her hand at the metalhead.

"How was the test?" I inquired, returning my attention to Eddie.

"Oh?" He shifted awkwardly in place, clearly not expecting my question. "It was good, I... think? Dunno, I don't wanna jinx it." He grimaced, scratching the back of his neck. "I'll get the grade next week."

"I'm sure it'll be a good grade." I reassured him with a genuine smile. "Next time we should start studying earlier, though. Not just, you know," I vaguely gestured with my hand. "The day before."

"Yes, ma'am." He teased, leaning forward for a second, only to retreat back fast as lightning, undecipherable brown irises staring straight into my own. "Is that it or...?"

"Uh, yeah." I gave him a short nod with pursed lips. "Yes, that's it."

After a second of awkward silence, I cleared my throat and excused both me and Lizzy before waving the boys goodbye.

"There was absolutely no need to make it that awkward." Lizzy commented in a whisper.

"Shut up, okay?" I mumbled mortified, fighting the urge to run into the nearest bathroom and die because what the fuck was that.

We didn't get far before my name was called from the history classroom's door, loud enough to be heard above the usual hubbub caused by the seniors and underclassmen.

"Y/n! Hey!" In a couple of strides, Eddie was once again in front of me, looking as fidgety as I had ever seen him. "Hi. Again." With a nervous titter, his bravado demeanor was completely gone, so much that he averted his gaze from mine. "Uhm... You know, I'm— I'm in a band?" He questioned more than stated, folding his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, Liz told me." I credited my friend, pointing my thumb at her.

"Nice, so" He shot a silent cry for help to what I figured were his friends. "We gig at The Hideout on Tuesdays, at 10pm."

"Really? That's really cool."

"Yeah, pretty cool," he finally gathered the courage to make eye contact. "we actually got a crowd of five... Drunks." After tearing a laugh out of me, his shoulders began to relax. "You should come see us. If you want."

"Oh." Oh. My face tightened, sympathy getting in the way of rejection. "Actually," Already knowing the answer, Eddie's shoulders slumped. "We got a Calc test tomorrow and I kinda suck at it so—"

"That's okay." He gave me an understanding nod, shoving his hands on his back pockets. "I was—"

"You said you play every Tuesday?" I cut him off, brewing what I knew to be a crazy idea in my mind.

"Yeah, every Tuesday. Unless it gets cancelled."

"Well, don't cancel the next one." The ghost of a coy smile appeared on my face at his wide eyed expression.

"Alright, we gotta go." Lizzy announced, situating herself behind me to push me forward. "Bye Ed."

"See you, ladies."

One Week Later

"Y/nnnn!" I barely had time to close my locker and turn at the singsong sound of my name before two ring clad hands spun me around, making me squeal in the process. "Y/n, my beloved, my sweet darling, my saving grace." He listed the titles with unnecessary dramatism and a lot of gesticulation with both of our hands, as he held my palms on his own.

A confused giggle escaped my lips, unknowingly returning Eddie's touch by rubbing the back of his hand with my thumbs. "Okay, what's going on?"

He halted his movements, letting go of me to dig in his backpack. After shuffling through it, he pulled out a piece of paper with a cocky grin. "I got a C+ in Ms. O'Donnell's." He announced, chin tilted up while he handed out proof of his words.

Effectively, a big 'C+' had been written and circled in red ink on the top corner of the sheet. "WHAT? OH MY GOD!" My chest unreasonably swelled at the grade, wide eyes ping-ponging between the test and Eddie's toothy smile. "That's great, that's actually great. Well done Eddie!" Without thinking twice, I threw my arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a quick, euphoric hug.

Even though he was quick to hide it, I didn't fail to notice the initial sheepishness taking over Eddie once I pulled away. "Gotta give you some credit for putting up with me, huh?" He pointed out in a joking manner.

"We should go celebrate." I suggested, spinning to shut the locker, which had been left open behind me.

"No can do." Eddie let his shoulder fall on the row of lockers in order to re-enter my visual field. "Got band practice and then—"

"The gig at The Hideout, yeah."

"You remembered." The boy seemed somewhat surprised. "You coming?"

"I'm thinking about it." I tried my best to play contemplative and hold back the suggestive smile. It's supposed to be a surprise, I reminded myself, mirroring Eddie's posture.

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

"Jesus Christ!" I could see my best friend's grimace reflected on her vanity mirror, in front of which she sat retouching her eyeshadow. "Gag me with a spoon."

"Don't be mean, Linda." I chastised her from the heavily cushioned bed, helping Lizzy pick up her Calc notes that, with any luck, would get me from a D- to a B.

"Is this, like, important to you?" George questioned from the rug without looking at us, eyebrows furrowed at his notebook.

"It's part of the deal." I lied. Why did I lie?

"Oh, spare me." Liz snorted, inquisitive eyes digging holes into my elusive frame. "You're dragging that excuse now."

"Okay, it's not a part of the deal! So what?!" I glared at my friends in vexation, slamming the notes on the mattress. "He's putting up with so much shit lately, so forgive me if I wanna do something nice for him."

A tense silence flooded Linda's bedroom, which was broken as soon as a swift exchange of glances took place among my friends.

"I'll phone Steve." Linda began. "See if he can help."

"I can call Tina." Lizzy followed.

"Someone's gotta make sure none of Tommy H's friends show up so," George sighed, finally rising from the floor. "I guess that's me."

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

"Why?"

"Oh, I just wanna know if I have to practice extra hard later." I tilted my head at his playful tone, unable to tell if he was joking or not.

"Well I—"

"Eddie, c'mon! We gotta get going, dude!" A passerby's hand yanked the long-haired boy's sleve, making him roll his eyes.

"Alright, sweetheart, duty calls." He took a step forward and planted a soft kiss on my temple before taking off while I stayed helplessly frozen in place. "see you around!"

It took a good minute for my body to start functioning again, and when it did, my face felt burning hot. God, I hated it.

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

EDDIE'S P. O. V.

"EDDIE!!"

I seethed at Gareth's voice, pausing my motions when I heard his quick steps coming my way from the inside of the bar.

I had used the establishment's back door —as per usual before every gig— to go out, tune my guitar and have a smoke. It was my little ritual, a brief but effective alone time moment before the show. Apparently, not even that was allowed.

"What." I spat at the youngest bandmate, throwing the cigarette to the concrete and stepping on it.

"It's— they're— there's—" I frowned at his stuttering and the way he frantically motioned into the bar with his drumsticks. "Jeez, just— you gotta see it. C'mon!" He urged, gesturing me to follow him back in, which I reluctantly did.

I was about to tell him off for interrupting my routine for something stupid, but then we turned the corner to get to the poor excuse of a stage we played on and I froze.

There was, objectively, a lot of people —and I mean a lot—, most of them around our age; considering we usually played for five to seven middle aged men... Well, the current situation was a bit overwhelming at the very least.

"I think your girlfriend brought them." Gareth whispered, trailing after me while I climbed up to where Jeff and Grant stood confused.

I couldn't find it in myself to face the crowd just yet, so instead of skimming our incoming audience, I asked, "Y/n's here?"

"Uh... Yeah." Grant bobbed his head at where the bar counter was, prompting me to look. I peeked over my shoulder and instantly met Y/n's gaze. She gave me a timid wave, which I returned with a snort because why on earth did she look nervous? It was us performing in front of classmates that called us freaks in the high school halls.

"Okay. Listen up." I leaned into my bandmates, hanging the strap of the guitar across my chest so I could clench and unclench my fists in an attempt to rid myself off the anxiety. "This may be new, but a crowd is a crowd; doesn't matter if it's five people or fifty, alright? We're performers. We perform. Got it?" They all gave me a swift, resolved nod. "Don't get nervous and don't fuck it up. We got this."

There was a wave of murmured agreement preceding our retreat to our respective spots on the stage, which left me at the very front, exposed to all those eyes.

"Alright, guys." I spoke into the mic. I refused to sound somewhat shy or unsure, and therefore overcompensated by raising my voice as much as I could without screaming. "This is Corroded Coffin. I hope you're ready to rock, 'cause we sure as hell are." I shot a look over my shoulder at my three friends, who gave me their unanimous approval.

Breathe in, breathe out.

"Y/n!" The girl shot me a panic-stricken look, eyes going comically wide when I turned all the attention to her. "This one's for you."

I couldn't help the amused grin tugging up the corner of my lips when I heard the nosey, unintelligible whispers that followed my shameless wink at the blushing mess of a girl Y/n had turned into.

Oddly enough, that granted me the confidence I needed to shred my guitar.

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

READER'S P. O. V.

Only good things had come out of the gig, I thought to myself as everyone began to exit the place in order to return to their respective cars.

Eddie got his big crowd —who enjoyed the music more than they'll ever admit—, I had the privilege to see him play guitar, and people had approached me at least five times to ask me to congratulate my 'boyfriend' for his guitar solo, which I was gladly going to do.

The bar was still reasonably crowded when I approached the stage. While two of the band members helped the drummer dismantle his instrument, Eddie picked up the amplifiers and sends at the edge, which situated him just in the right spot to see me walk towards them.

"Hey there, sweetheart." He greeted me, crouching for us to be eye to eye.

"That was amazing."

Eddie motioned at the wide open front door, through which the multitude of classmates could still be seen by the cars. "You brought them all?"

I shook my head no, a smile escaping my lips are Eddie's raised brows. "I just... spread the word. Live music at The Hideout every Tuesday."

The boy before me observed my form with a mildly squinted, undecipherable gaze that made me both want to hide and get lost in his dark eyes.

"Are you gonna go home now?"

"I mean," I tittered nervously, toying with the hem of my short skirt. "I wasn't supposed to be out at all."

Eddie visibly pondered something, his lost irises landing on his black combat boots. "Okay hold on." Placing the wires and amps on the side, he climbed off the stage, adjusting his belt before letting his hand dig into every single one of his jeans' pockets until he found the keys to his van. He whistled at his bandmates until he drew the attention of one of them. After throwing him the keys, Eddie's focus returned to me. "Can't leave them stranded."

"Stranded?"

"I'm walking you home." He clarified, intertwining his fingers with mine in order to pull me close to his side and drape an arm over my shoulders. "C'mon, m'lady. Got a long walk ahead of us."

And just like that, we walked out of The Hideout, waving my friends goodbye and trying not to snicker at the looks everyone gave us while we crossed the parking lot.

Only when he considered we were completely out of sight, Eddie put some distance between us, making me miss the warmth of his body.

We walked in silence for a good while until sneaking glances at each other and flashing smiles wouldn't cut it anymore.

"So," Eddie began, eyes glued on the pavement and hands on his pockets while his foot kicked a rolling stone. "What'd you think? Did you like it?"

It took me a second to understand he meant the music. "Oh! Yeah, I think it was awesome! Weird, but awesome." He echoed my sentence in low, amused voice, the ghost of a smile making his dimples show. "You know? You looked a bit like uh..." I'm snapped my fingers repeatedly with a focused frown. "What's his name? Ugh!"

"I'm kinda scared of the comparison you're about to make." Eddie quipped.

"Why? I'm sure you know him." I groaned, pulling on the strings of my memory in hopes of remembering his name. "Lizzy has a crush on him. This one guitarist—" I clapped my hands, doing a little jump on the spot. "Eddie Van Halen!"

"Oh." Eddie's eyes went wide. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah. Oh my God, are you blushing?"

"Pfft no I'm not." He unconvincingly stated, his voice going up an octave. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything." I breathed out an amused laugh, raising my hands in surrender.

"You don't have to, I hear your thoughts." He whispered, pulling a caricaturseque scary face whilst bending in my direction.

"Creep." I playfully shoved his arm, earning a cackle from him.

"Lizzy has a crush on Eddie Van Halen?" I hummed affirmatively and he clicked his tongue, tilting his head to the side. "The lady's got taste."

"I think she might have a crush on you too."

"You think so?"

"I mean... You look a bit like him. And you play guitar." I pointed out, motioning at his fit and guitar, strapped to his back. "Liz loooves guitarists." I shrugged, putting my hands behind my back. "If you want, when this is over, I can set you guys up."

"Nah." Eddie shook his head no, eyes falling back down from me to his boots. "Lizzy's cool and all, but I don't mingle with the popular crowds. Oil and water."

"You mingle with me."

"Yeah, 'cause we got a deal."

"Uhm Y/n?" Eddie spoke again refusing to walk in silence for another couple of minutes. "tell me something about you."

Ouch.

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I just stayed quiet, forcing myself to ignore Eddie's inquisitive irises on me and choosing to observe the poorly lit suburban street instead. Luckily, we were close to my house.

"Something like what?"

"Dunno, favorite book?" I quirked a brow at the metalhead and he sighed, overtaking me to walk backwards before me. "We're supposed to be 'dating', and if someone asked me what you like, I wouldn't know how to reply."

"Fair point." I agreed, deciding to indulge him. "Alright, favorite book... Probably Jane Eyre."

"Jane Eyre?"

"Yeah."

He snorted. "You're weird."

"What's yours— if you even read."

"Ouch!" He mockingly stabbed himself on the heart, throwing his head back.

"I'm kidding, I swear!" I assured him with a surprised laugh, my hands reaching out to stop him from tripping.

"Okay, mine's Lord Of The Rings."

"Oh! Which part?"

"You've read it?" My eyes followed his movements while he retreated to his original position to walk by my side. "Obviously not, 'cause your favorite book is Jane Eyre." The side of my fist bumped his arm in feigned outrage.

"I tried, but I never got past the Ents."

"What?!" Eddie nearly jumped at my statement.

"The Ents" I groaned dramatically. "They're sooo annoying!"

"How dare you!"

"They're insufferable."

"You're insufferable." I slapped away Eddie's accusing index finger with a smile.

"Oh," I halted my steps, eyes fixed on my house. 'this is perfect."

"What's perfect?"

"My mom's by the window."

"D'you want me to put on a bit of a show?" Eddie's tone was dangerous; he had 'trouble' written all over his face.

"Yes."

With a wink, he took my hand in his and led me to the front sidewalk of the house, only stopping when he was sure my mother had an acceptable view of us.

"Is making out still off the table?"

"Eddie." I warned him, seeing the grin dancing on his lips as he turned to face me, readjusting the strap of his guitar so the instrument wouldn't come in the way.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. C'mere."

My eyes went wide when Eddie's ringed fingers found the right side my waist, slowly drawing me in. "What are you doing?" I muttered, trying not to panic when he more hesitantly placed his free hand on my left hip.

"Put your arms around my neck." I did as I was told, feeling his breathed whisper fan on my skin due to the lack of distance between us. "Is your dear mother looking?"

I peeked over Eddie's shoulder to see my mother standing by the window with a folded arms. "Yeah." I barely had time to return my attention to Eddie before he dove in, body arching into mine while our noses bumped.

But that's all he did.

"woah."

"Don't laugh now." He chastised me, anticipating I would most likely burst into nervous giggles due to the situation.

"I'm trying my best." I assured him, gnawing on my lower lip to try and comply, which almost led Eddie himself into a fit of laughter.

His lashes fluttered close as he forced himself to stay in character instead of pulling away to chuckle. Taking a deep breath, his lids opened once more and he leaned a but further, planting a kiss on the corner of my lips.

My racing heart was nearly put under cardiac arrest when my front door bursted open. "Y/n! What in God's name are you doing?!"

Eddie hissed, pulling away just enough to meet my eyes. "She's religious?"

"Mhm." I confirmed, finally allowing my shoulders to shake due to my chuckling. "Devoted."

"Get inside!"

"Coming, mother!" I shouted, letting my hands slide down from Eddie's neck until they rested atop his chest.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He announced, squeezing my side before letting me go.

"Eddie? You got my phone number right?" He gave me a quick nod while I took a step back and circled him. "Call me when you get home, okay?"

"As you wish. Hey, Y/n," his digits brushed mine, stopping me from taking another step further in my mother's direction. "Thanks for tonight."

As a response, I briefly took his hand in mine, rubbing the back of it with my thumb before resuming my walk.

Due to my back being turned to Eddie, I missed his puzzled half smile, and the way he almost tripped when he began to undo our path.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x oc #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x popular!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie fic #eddie fanfic #joe quinn #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4 #st eddie munson

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jaybird-redhood · 3 years ago

Text

propinquity

wc: 2.2k

pairing: jason todd // gn reader

The first thing you think when you see him for the first time is that he has the cutest smile.

That’s a lie, the first thing you think it that he is so incredibly in shape, and it looks great on him, but the smile thing sounds better in your head.

He's moving into the apartment across from yours a month after you moved into yours. Weird, because the two people in your building closest to your age are 2 and 63, respectively.

You suppose that some wicked twist of fate must’ve brought this upon you for missing your cousin’s birthday party last week, because the guy standing across from you is crazy hot. And looking right at you. And you are in the huge neon Wonder Woman t-shirt that your best friend got for your birthday last year.

Yeah. Karma.

“Nice shirt,” the guy offers, holding in a grin. “You’re really making it work.”

“I-”

“See you around, neighbor.”

And with a shut of a door and an awfully charismatic smirk he’s gone.

The next time you see him is a week later, and this time- luckily, you think- you’re dressed somewhat put together. You run into him while unlocking your door.

"What's got you in a twist?" he asks.

"Um," you start, "I just. Ugh I have so much to do. Like 3 hours of homework, a lecture tomorrow that I cannot skip, and I'm completely out of bread and eggs and can't even you to the store until, like, Thursday at best."

Once you start rambling you can't seem to stop. You slouch against your door. You're not entirely sure why you're telling a stranger all this, but he seems to be listening, so you suppose that’s a good sign

"I get the feeling," he offers, and you look up at him. "I'm majoring in English Lit and my classes are kind of kicking my ass."

You give him a small smile, "Glad to know someone in this building is struggling as much as I am."

"Jason," he says, and he reaches his hand out to you. "My name."

You shake it and tell him yours.

As you both turn back into your respective apartments you think that he maybe isn't as intimidating as you thought.

The next day goes by with a really boring lecture and another 3 hours of work you need to do.

The ride home from uni isn't that long, but it's long enough for you to contemplate all the ways that your life went wrong after moving to Gotham. And, maybe as payback for thinking mean things about the city, rain that you think should belong to a category 3 hurricane starts to whip around your car 10 minutes into your drive.

Your clothes are dripping water in literal puddles by the time you get back to your apartment.

Groaning, you start fishing for your keys in your purse while walking up the last flight of stairs.

When you get to your door you stop. Right in front of it there’s a grocery bag. Picking it up and looking inside you see a loaf of bread and a small carton of milk.

You pick it up smiling.

“Jason?” you ask, knocking on his door.

No response.

You shrug and turn around. Remember to thank him the next time you run into each other; you think.

That next time doesn’t happen to be that long and thank goodness for you.

“You know, we really need to stop meeting like this,” he says to you.

You’re sitting on the floor outside of your door looking rather pathetic, and he’s giving you the most awful smirk you’ve ever seen. (Not that it looks bad on him though. You seem to think that nothing could really look that bad on him)

“I swear I’m usually more put together than this,” you sigh to him. “You moving here jinxed me!”

“Yeah yeah. You’re locked out, aren’t you?”

You give him your best withering I’m going to kill you stare, but it must not be working because he just laughs even harder at you.

“This is completely not my fault it’s just I lost my second set of keys like right when I moved in and then today when I got home, I accidentally left them in my car, but my second set of car keys is in my apartment so now I can’t get them out, stop laughing at me!”

“God you’re a mess,” Jason says- finally finished laughing at you and maybe taking a bit of pity on how disheveled you look. “You couldn’t call anyone to get you in?”

You shake your head.

“My friend is the only other person with a set, but they’re out of town, and our landlord is being a dick and telling me it’s my fault in the first place, so I need to deal with it. I’ve been sitting out here for like an hour.”

“All I’m hearing is that it is your fault and now you’re just moping about it feeling bad about yourself.”

You tilt your head against the door so hard that it makes you wince a bit.

“Ok fine,” he says crossing his arms.

“What?”

“Wait right here.”

He goes into his apartment and comes back out with a skinny metal thing you don’t recognize.

You look at him in confusion and he just motions for you to scoot out of the way as he sticks it in your locks and starts to pick it.

You sigh in relief.

“Thank you thank you thank you. For everything. I swear I will get my life together, so you don’t feel like you have to keep cleaning up my messes.

“I don’t mind,” he says with a small smile, “Take your time.”

And with that he opens the door to your apartment and turns back to his.

“By the way, you should really get better locks. That was way too easy.”

You make a note in your head to get that done sometime. As you’re lying on your couch that night, you’re AirDropped a photo on your phone. Saving it up you see it’s a piece of paper with neat handwriting on it: a phone number and a smiley face, Jason’s name at the bottom.

You smile too and add the number to your contacts.

Over the next few weeks, you and Jason start talking more, both over text and through the various times when you run into each other outside your doors.

Each interaction is better than the next, and you soon start to realize that Jason isn’t just some hot guy with no brains. He’s sweet and charismatic, has a whole wall full of bookshelves, could probably quote any classical novel by heart, has incredibly good taste in music, and best (or worst) of all, would make incredible friend material.

It’s just that as you become closer friends, you start to realize that that might not be all you want.

It’s a stupidly cold Friday morning when he texts you, and you’re covered in blankets and wrapped in sweatshirts in your bed. Movie at my place tonight?

You text back your approval and a quick be there at 6 before getting ready for classes.

The day goes by slower than you hoped.

It might be the anticipation of seeing Jason again, or more likely the hours of lectures you have to sit through, but you’re elated when your final class for the day gets let out.

The hours in between are a blur.

A blur which leads to the two of you sitting on his couch watching Romeo and Juliet together, a blanket thrown over your bodies.

You have the obligatory bowl of popcorn resting on your legs, and every few minutes Jason reaches across your lap to take a handful.

The way you’re laying half on top on him is completely deliberate, as to take as much of his body heat as possible. Your landlord had turned off heating 3 weeks prior to ‘save money’ or some other bullshit.

Jason’s not complaining though.

Once your popcorn bowl is finished and your head is in his lap, he runs his fingers through your hair absentmindedly. It might be the nicest feeling you’ve ever felt.

Throughout the movie you exchange snide comments about the plot back and forth. You start trying to say funny things whenever you can just to hear how sweet his laugh sounds to your ears.

By the end of the movie, you’re only slightly in tears, or so you tell yourself.

“Are you crying right now?” Jason asks incredulously, wearing a teasing smile.

“It’s not my fault,” you half say half moan, “Leonardo DiCaprio just has that effect on me.”

He just laughs and pulls you upright until you’re sitting on his lap.

His eyes are a shade of blue green that you’ve never seen before, although you could swear their getting greener by the second.

You watch his gaze drop down to your lips before staring you right in the eyes again.

“Can I kiss you?”

“God yes,” you tell him, and kiss him right back.

The next week is somewhat uneventful, even though you and Jason had been meeting each other almost every night, rotating apartments based on whose house was warmer each particular night.

Tonight is your night, and you’ve been waiting the whole day to show him the film you had rented to watch together.

The walk up to your door is easier than usual, and you have a bounce in your step that’s making you feel even more elated than normal taking out your keys to unlock your apartment.

You open your door and your bag drops. The keys clatter when they hit the hardwood, and the silence that follows is deafening.

“You’re bleeding on my carpet,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.

There Jason is, bleeding quite profusely, and using your kitchen counter to keep himself vertical. He’s wearing what looks to be a torn half of a domino mask and an extremely hot leather jacket.

(Not that this was the time for noticing his fashion choices, but you filed that thought away for later.)

What really catches your eye though is the huge red bat symbol on his chest, and the red helmet next to it sitting on your counter.

He shifts a little to the side before stumbling through saying, “Um, so, I know this isn’t ideal and I’m really sorry to put you in this situation, but I seriously do not feel like bleeding out tonight and-”

“Oh my god this is great,” you cut him off with. “I thought you were a hit-man!”

“Wait what.”

“Shit no that’s not what I meant- kind of, hang on we should probably stop you from dying before having this conversation.”

You walk over to him to get a better look at his wounds.

“God Jace, you look like death warmed over.”

He just stares at you.

“You have a bunch of stuff in your bathroom, right?”

At least this elicits a reaction. He grimaces in pain but gives you a nod of his head in conformation.

“Ok I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

He gives you a look that says seriously, where would I go.

3 minutes later you’re back with a needle and thread, and some sterilizing spray.

“This should be fine,” you tell him, “I took a first aid class last year with my friends and passed with flying colors according to the nurse.”

“Just try to keep them tight and neat. I trust you,” he says, and your heart pounds just a little harder.

You respond with a nervous laugh but take a deep breath and start working.

An hour and a half later you’re done.

The combination of pain meds, bandages, and a whole lot of stitches eventually led to you and Jason laying in your bed together, both completely exhausted.

He turns his head to face you.

“Could we maybe go back to the hit-man thing?”

“Oh uh. Well I saw a bunch of shirts covered in blood in your laundry in the bathroom, not to mention all the weirdly specific first-aid you had,” you tell him.

“And also the assorted guns and knives you have hidden all over. I guess I just assumed? But the whole Red Hood thing is so much better,” you reassure him.

“You found all my knives?”

You smile up at him.

“I love that that’s thing you chose to focus on.”

“And you’re really not mad that I didn’t tell you about the whole vigilante thing before?” he asks.

“Jay, I had already resigned myself to life forever with some shady hit-man that also happened to be incredibly good looking. Red Hood is ten times better than that. I’m not going to run away from you just because you’re incredibly intimidating and probably could kill me. I see that as an added bonus,” you say, with as much charm as you can muster without yawning.

“Just. Be careful, ok? I’d hate to make this a routine.”

He responds by pulling you closer to his body.

“I promise,” he whispers into your head. “You really to remember to get better locks by the way, breaking in was still way too easy.”

You let out a small laugh and finally you let yourself give into sleep.

#luce writes #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #red hood x gender neutral reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #dc imagine #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #jason todd #red hood #dc

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erissthemean · 5 years ago

Text

If only... - Jinx part 2!

Woah. I... Never ever thought that my fic could get so much love. I am so grateful for every comment and every like I received.

The whole fic was supposed to be a one shot, something to get out of my head for once but after reading your comments and seeing how lot of you would want a second part I just couldn't say no.

So this fic will have in total 4 parts. First one you already saw, it was mainly to cover what happened, what led Marinette to becoming Jinx. Second part will cover feelings of Marinette's parents--you're here! This chapter will be probably shorter? I can't really see the word count, so yeah. Enjoy!

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

***

Paris was in chaos. It was only a day after Jinx live transmission ended and dark emotions blossomed all across the city. It was their Ladybug. It was their hero who got hurt, who let herself be akumanitazed. And even if they knew that Chat got the earrings, that be could pick new Ladybug everyone stiil held a despair in their heart. How heroes were supposed to win? How Paris was supposed to look at the fight between them and not suffer?

After the transmission, the story about Marinette's fall flew around the whole city. It didn't take long before wave of criticism crushed the school. If they only did a little bit better. If they only were a little more profesional. People were looking for someone guilty, someone who would take the blame. And no one wanted to be this person.

Day after transmission mayor held a meeting in the city hall. It was supposed to be a way to figure out the plan in the small gathering but it soon became a whole manifestation. People were angry. They wanted the end of the situation and they wanted for their Ladybug to come back.

Mayor forcefully closed the door and blocked them witch heavy chair. Screams and profanities just behind the walls of small room, the song of the hurt. Too strong.

Andre looked around the room. Somehow he managed to gather only a few people. Hopefully that would be enough. The Chat Noir, parents of Marinette, police officer, director of this God forsaken school, the teacher, his daughter, this girl, Lila? And a few friends of the akumatized girl.

"Alright, we have to think about the plan."

"We can't give her anything that she wants!"

"Miss Bustier have you seen what is happening?! This must stop! Marinette killed innocent-!"

"Oh would you shut up!"

Everyone looked at Chloé. She looked... Somehow more pissed than usually.

"Miss Bourgeois, your language-!"

"I said shut up! You're talking nonsense! It's not Dupain-Cheng, duh!"

Andre looked nervous.

"Honey what you..."

"It's not Dupain-Cheng! It's not our Ladybug! It's Akuma! And she has an Akuma because of her!"

Chloé shoot a nasty look in Lila's way. She knew. Chloé was one of the few who didn't believe in Lila's lies. When this whole mess started she didn't for a second believed that Dupain-Cheng did any of this nasty things. After all, she had bullied the blue haired girl for years and she never even smacked her! And this clumsy ass was supposed to push someone off the stairs? Not a chance.

Chat Noir stepped up.

"Okay, okay, let us leave this talk for another time! We have to get a plan!"

The hero turned to Marinette's parents.

"Ma'am, do you know where your daughter is?"

Sabine looked at the boy and gritted her teeth.

"Do I look like I know where she is?!"

Chat Noir looked at her.

She looked like she didn't sleep well for the past month. She looked like she was crying each and every day. She looked like she didn't eat a good meal, like she couldn't force herself to pick up the fork. She looked... fragile. Broken. She looked like she needed comfort and safety but not for herself.

Chat looked at the ground.

"... No" he said softly.

Dupain-Cheng's reported that Marinette was missing a week ago, just when it all started. They were brushed away because Paris was dealing with other problems like a constant reakumanitazations and destructions that weren't magically repairing themselves. And now everyone had to watch how Jinx was making everything worse.

Tom hold his broken hand and tried to look strong. For his wife. For... For his daughter.

If he only believed her then. If he only fought for her, tried to discover the truth... He knew his daughter. He knew that she couldn't do this kind of things. But... But he got this conclusion after it was too late. Now he looked seriously at the Chat Noir.

"What do you want to do."

It wasn't a question. It... Somehow sounded more grim that everything else. Chat looked like he was uncomfortable.

"She... She has to be stopped..."

"You want to hurt her again!"

Tom made a few furious steps toward the hero but was soon stopped by the officer.

"Mister Dupain-Cheng, please calm down! Your daughter is a victim of the Akuma, Chat Noir will try to save her!"

Tom clenched his only good hand. The broken bone remained him what happened day before and suddenly he lost all his strength.

"I... I can't do this."

He left. Sabine didn't go after him, she just sat on one of the couches and cried silently. It wasn't supposed to look like this. She needed her family. Her husband and her little beautiful daughter. Without them she felt so weak. She felt... Useless.

She regretted that day. When she lost her faith in Marinette. When she got herself caught in the lies of this awful girl. The day when she could support her princess a bit more... And maybe she would still have her. And maybe she would still be awake.

But not only this. If she showed her support even before, maybe a lot of things would be different. If she saw how stressed Marinette was, how she sometimes looked like she was so, so tired. Maybe... Maybe she could be a better mom. Maybe she could put her faith in her. Maybe she could... She didn't know! She just felt like she failed and couldn't make it better. She just wished she could at least try... But it was impossible, was it?

At the same time, Tom was walking away. Far, far away. He couldn't just stand there and listen how they wanted to hunt down his little girl. He couldn't listen how they blamed her for everything. Wasn't she just a child? His sweet baby girl. She was the same as every villain that showed up in Paris! She didn't know what she was doing! She... She didn't deserve everyone's hate. Tom stopped and tried to fight off the tears. His little girl. He looked up, at the broken ceiling and screamed.

"Hawkmoth! Hawkmoth, do you hear me?! Come here! Come and get me! Am I not broken enough?!"

Tom felt like he was making a deal with the devil but he didn't care anymore.

"Come and get me! I want to be strong! You gave it to me! Change me again! Hawkmoth!"

He needed this. He needed this strength. Tom felt tears on his cheeks.

"Hawkmoth! You bastard! G-give it to me! I-I.."

He fell to his knees.

"I need to protect her." he whispered. "I need to protect my little girl... Why can't I protect her..."

And he sat there, sobbing. No Akuma came to him. No one answered. He was left alone, weak.

He looked at his arm. It was broken because he was too reckless.

When he saw his daughter he couldn't stay in place. He and Sabine ran to the studio. They didn't care what she did, Marinette was their daughter. They had to make sure she was okay. Or as okay as she could be. When they saw her, they just cried. They tried to tell her to come back, to fight off Akuma... And she smiled. She began moving, floating towards them. One of her ribbons reached out to them... And he stepped up and grabbed it. Suddenly one of the heavy cameras fall over, in one second crushing his arm and hand.

"Huh... Such a luck, hm?"

"Marinette!"

"Marinette what? There is no Marinette."

"It's not like you! Please honey, stop this madness!"

The girl cocked her head.

"Stop it? But... If I stop I will go back to sleep. That's what you want?"

"No! No, no, no! Please Marinette!"

"Besides... It's not like me? That's funny."

She wrapped herself in ribbons, suddenly flickering even more than seconds ago.

"Last time something like that happened, you believed it was something I could do. What was that? Ah, yes. Pushing Lila, this little..." Jinx made and ugly face. "This... This girl from stairs. That's almost like I tried to kill her! Isn't it worse than what just happened? If you could believe I did it then, then why don't you believe it now? I mean... At least someone saw me doing it, right~?"

Sabine cried.

"Please... I... Miss you so much..."

"And you still want me to give this up. I won't be trapped anymore. I'm free now mom. Isn't it better?"

Jinx didn't wait for an answer. She just disappeared, leaving her parents alone. To cry and wait for someone to help...

****

People who wanted to be tagged:

@lenoreofraven @crazylittlemunchkin @prussianblue350 @nerdyandproudofitsstuff @pheonixashtree @absolutelywizard @lovebug5151 @yin-390 @redscarlet95 @literalfantrash @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @amychi2000 @im-here-for-the-content @yokizu @fatimaabbasrizvi @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @ravenabby @someone-idk-is-here @supern-a-vengers @clockaede @aloeveraspeaks @enby-witching

@map-soul

#miracoulousladybug #miracoulus #miraculous ladybug #akumatized marinette #marinette cheng #ml marinette #sabine dupain cheng #tom dupain #ladybug and chat noir #chat noir #chat #akumanette #ml akuma #Akuma #hawkmoth

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austenpoppy · 6 years ago

Text

When fanfiction begins to be worrying

Warning : Ron-lovers, if you read this it is at your own peril. I am already suffering from long-lasting damage. Vivi, don't read. Really. Don't. Trust me.

We won't even talk about incest and other criminal and sickening fanfictions, which are mostly rejected by the fandom with the utmost disgust - fortunately.

No, no, what I'm going to talk about is admired by a - sadly - large part of the fandom. I was just looking for a cool fanfiction about Ron during my break when I found this, on the first page : "101 ways to kill Ron Weasley."

I know, I shouldn't have clicked on the link, but I couldn't help myself. I had to know.

This is the Author's note :

"This story is inspired by Crys' 1001 Deaths of Lord Voldemort on

For many of us, we hate one character in canon more than any other. No, not Lord Voldemort. I am, of course, talking about Ron Weasley.

Ron is lazy, stupid, annoying, and, in my opinion, mentally retarded.

Now, many in the fanfiction community hate Ginny much more than Ron; however, I find that to be more based upon their experiences with fanfiction than Ginny's actual roll in canon. Let's all be honest, outside of CoS and a cameo in OoTP, Ginny has very few lines and almost no involvement in the plot while Ron plays the role of a giant douchebag throughout the books.

This story, which I hope people will enjoy, is my way of killing off the dumbass in as many colorful ways as possible.

In case you can't tell, expect major Ron!Bashing."

...

I should have stopped as soon as I read this. I didn't, pushed by a morbid curiosity : I wanted to know how far people were ready to go. Useless to say that I bitterly regret it.

First, notice here that Voldemort and Ron are the only characters that I know of who have entire fanfics dedicated to kill them.

Voldemort and Ron are put on the same level. A teenager, the best friend of the hero and a hero himself, is compared to a psychopath and a murderer.

Moreover, I have to underline that the author judges Ron as "mentally retarded". I find it worrying. Just because a teenager have not the same grades as the best student in his year, just because he does not display the same way of thinking as his clever best friend does not mean he is stupid. Far from that.

That is a judgement on intelligence that I think is horrible. You have to know that intelligence, despite what tests such as IQ's claim, can not be really measured. It depends on so many factors. The results of IQ tests depend themselves on so many factors.

Furthermore, having real problems to understand things should be seen as a disability, a handicap and not an insult. It is a very difficult situation to deal with.

Also notice that the intellect is one the major criteria differencing the characters for those people. Intellect is practically above everything else.

I read the fanfiction, constituted of two chapters and multiple drabbles.

First reaction :

First one : Ron dies from eating too much. He chokes on his food.

Second one : In first year, wanting to prove a point to Hermione, Ron willingly mispronunces a spell and conjures a buffalo which crushes him

Third one : In Deathly Hallows, Ron takes the locket with him when he leaves. Harry and Hermione try to stop him and splinch him (he is split in two), but they don't recover the Horcrux. Last sentence : "Even in death, Ron Weasley found a way to be a pain in the ass."

Fourth one : Ron, charged by Harry to give Hedwig her treats, eats them in front of her. Hedwig, with the help of thousands other owls, avenges herself by attacking and killing Ron. Reminding of "The birds" by Hitchcock.

Fifth one : Ron, jealous, accuses Hermione of loving Harry and calls her "a Mudblood". She kills him. Harry and her hide Ron's body before they have sex. Petty remark about the length of Harry and Ron's manhoods. Note of the "author" explaining that it was a summary of another fic.

Sixth one : the Trio enters Bellatrix's vault. Ron is immediately fascinated by the amount of money and begins to steal it despite his friends' warnings. He burts into flames and jinxes his friends. Particularly petty sentence : "He never knew, or cared, that his greed had doomed them as well."

Seventh one : Ron speaks proudly about the unbreakable vow he made when he was five. Hermione asks him what it was about, he says he had sworn he would never say he wasn't a jobbernowl, he dies. Worst thing : use of a real passage of the book.

Eighth one : Ron dies on the chess set. His sacrifice is presented as stupid because it 'had to be another way.'

Nine : Harry uses Sectumsempra on Ron while he is sleeping. Ron dies. Harry transforms his corpse into a sock and burns it.

Last one : after Ron is made prefect, Hermione refuses to have him as a partner, jinxes him and kills him "for the greater good." Particularly nasty sentences : "Harry looked at the badge and fought the urge to go downstairs and ask McGonagall and Dumbledore if they were high when they selected the male Gryffindor prefect this year." / "'Sure', Ron said, completely shocked. 'I was positive you would get it, Harry.' 'You and the rest of the world,' Harry thought darkly." / "I can already see Ron not taking his duties seriously and flaunting the privileges that prefects normally deserve."

I won't comment all of them, but I really want to say something about some of them.

The first one uses a trope overused in Ron-bashing fanfiction : the fact that Ron eats a lot and sometimes speaks with his mouth full. Obviously, the author has forgotten what it is to be a teenager, and especially a thin teenager. Their metabolism needs food, and loads of food, because they are growing up and thin people tend to burn off energy more rapidly.

The fourth makes me sick. (Not that they don't all make me want to throw up.) First since it uses the overused trope I have already mentioned. Moreover for Ron would definitely do what Harry asks him to do, and for Ron is definitely not cruel. And thirdly because... THE BIRDS ! Does it ring a bell, a physical assault on Ron with birds ?

The fifth one. There is absolutely no universe where Ron, I'm-going-to-kill-Malefoy-with-my-bare-hands!Ron, would call Hermione a Mudblood. No. Way.

The sixth. Just because Ron said once something like "It would be nice to have galleons for a change", once "I hate being poor" (ONCE !!!), "Lucky you" (referring to Harry not noticing the difference on his amount of gold when the fake money disappeared), "Where's mine ?" (asking Bill where his money was because Bill has just given Harry a purse full of gold), that's it, Ron is greedy. Just because he doesn't want to be in need. Although he never complained that much.

These people hating Ron for he does not like to be poor are just self-righteous and have very probably never lived in the same situation. They have never been homeless, have received all the gifts for Christmas they wanted, have lived in a warm and comfortable house. It's easy to think about morals when your stomach is full, your health is perfect and well taken care of, and your basical material needs are fulfilled.

I remember a story my dance teacher told me : there was a poor woman in Africa who had lost a husband, a son and a leg in a war and still considered herself luckier than a French homeless person because she had a roof above her head.

I'm not saying that losting a loved one is less terrible. Nothing is more terrible.

Just that hating a fourteen-years old boy who never received another Christmas gift than a maroon jumper he hates but still puts on without really complaining because his mother made it, because he would like to have clothes that fit him or galleons he could spend to offer things to his friends is stupid. Really. And shows a lack of empathy.

Moreover, it's not as if Ron was not generous. All he has he shares it. His galleons, he mostly spends it on gifts for his friends. He gave his Christmas gifts to an house-elf. Ron has a really big, big heart and nothing is more important to him than his friends and family.

Eight. Just. How dares he / she ? That's what I hate with this fandom. Everything is twisted to correspond to the views of people.

Last. The prefect badge. My god the prefect badge. Maybe the most disgusting one, because Harry and Hermione are depicted as thinking the worst of him and somehow echo the 'No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect'. The fact that Ron is often belittled by the fans who don't think he deserved the badge is reminiscent of the fact that Ron didn't either. Ron didn't think he deserved it. That makes me soooo angry.

Pansy Parkinson deserved her badge, but Ron ? Nooooo of course.

The question of worthiness in Ron-bashing is central. People operate a grading : some characters are better than others. The worst is to think that they do it in real life.

I am really naive. I thought that most readers would be inflamed by such display of stupidity. How wrong I was ! This story had 242 reviews, whose only 12 were critical. On the twelve crital ones, 4 were saying that Ron was just an ordinary teenager with no talent, but that it was a shame to dislike him for that.

The rest ?... At this point I don't know if I want to cry or burst into flames out of rage.

I have warned you before. I warn you again. Be aware of the violence of what will follow.

"More!

In order to get a good nights sleep, I need to read about Ron dying in horrendous and funny ways, due to his folly and vices."

At this point it looks like a caricature, doesn't it ? We can notice, however, that people vent out their frustrations and violence on fictional characters. It's up to you if it is good or not. I think it is sick to post it on the Internet, on a personal level.

"A note to a couple of Ron fanboys that posted. First, don' t like? Don' t read. You can tell it is a bashing story from the summary. Second; each person can interpret the canon events the way he wants. Personally, i see it like this: Ron betrayed and abandoned his supposed best friend when he needed help the most. Twice. And he never even apologised properly! It is not our best moments and actions that show us who we really are, but our worst ones. Because, usually, that is when one lets his true self show. Ron is not a bad person, but he is an idiot in canon."

It actually reflects a way of thinking. Ron is defined by the moment he felt betrayed and argued against his best friend - and he tried to apologize, though didn't make Harry apologize for hitting him - and the moment he left under mental torture - the first one who tells me Ron isn't strong-willed will have to run really fast from my anger, because Ron resisted possession and once rebelled against a thought mass murederer on a broken leg and they know nothing about torture -. For this kind of people, you can't have flaws. You can't be faulty. You have to be perfect. You can't ever be forgiven. This is unhealthy.

"*Insane laugh* I love this story! I've always hated Ron. *Sigh* If only he died in cannon, then my life would be complete!"

Once again I am amazed by the VIOLENCE of such a statement.

"I just love the first one where Ron dies while stuffing his face. I have often thought that he had either Bulima or a tapeworm. I have actually seen someone eat like him. It turned out that this person was Bulimic. How else does someone stuff himself and remain skinny?"

It displays a total lack of understanding of what eating disorders really are. Those are disorders which are really extremely difficult to deal with on a daily basis. They are mistaken here with bad eating manners.

"Are you in middle schoolers? Because that's how they teach you how to write in middle school. Also, Ron IS stupid. His grades show that. And Hermione is always caring and helping Harry, even when Ron is off sulking, jealous of Harry. And who cares if Ron came back after leaving? He still left! And getting his ass off of bed is not an excuse for Ron. He only goes along with Harry because he needs to! To keep being Harry's friend, that is. You're actually as mentally deficient as Ron is, and I hope you learn some proper fucking grammar."

Once again intelligence is confused with good grades. That's how you end up with teachers telling students who don't have good grades that they are too stupid to do anything of their life. Ron is here considered as an opportunist. As if he had chosen to be friends with Harry for fame -internal scream. As if being friends with Harry was easy. As if he had not commited his life to help his friends. Notice that once again someone is judges according to his so-called bad actions (to me, Ron leaving is not a mistake Ron did, as I said multiple times already).

"Oi weasel!, for the first and final time, there will never be an Hermione and you, so stop dreaming about her; she's way, out of your league, otherwise l will make you into an weasel patty..."

Love is seen as a question of worthiness.

"Can the Basilisk eat him? please please let the Basilisk eat him"

Once again the violence strucks me.

"ugh i hate him 2 he always runs away or gets jelous. The one thing he did was play stupid chess. Like geez. I love the owl 1".

Chess is considered stupid. CHESS IS CONSIDERED STUPID, BUT WRITING AN ENTIRE FANFIC TO KILL A FICTIONAL CHARACTER IS NOT. Those people are sickeningly judgemental and self-righteous.

"Thank you, I really needed a good laugh and nothing is more funny than Ron dying in horrific, nasty ways."

*throws up*

"Hilarious. Keep updating. I can't stand Ron. The flaws of Snape, Albus, Remus, Sirius and the rest makes them interesting characters. The flaws of Ron make him a putz."

Notice that Ron is the one character that apparently can't be forgiven for his flaws. Ever.

"Lol, Keep killing Ron, it's enjoyable. It's a good stress reliever to read these. :)

See ! Ron is nothing more than a punching ball to those people. I'm scared, really. Their immaturity is worrying.

"I agree with you about Ron he really is a good for nothing person in canon."

*sees red* That's what I'm fighting against in real life. People telling teenagers (and here one of the most admirable fictional teenagers I've ever seen) with a crippling lack of self-esteem that they are worthless. DON'T LISTEN TO THEM !

"this is so funny. i love the owl treats one. my favourite so far. anyone who dares say this is rubbish will face my anger, dont worry. just because it wont happen in canon dosent mean its not good."

Well, sorry to break it to you, but this is rubbish.

"Harry could have been the next Voldermort or Dumbledore if Ron hadn't infected him wi"

Ron and his friendship with Harry are seen as DISEASES.

"Weasley must die! Weasley must die!"

"I actually don't mind Ginny as a character, but Ron has always severely irritated me. The ending to Deathly Hallows was disappointing - how could JKR stick Hermione with a git like that? Ron's been nothing but awful to her since day one, and let's not even get started on how he's treated Harry...

Not really such a "loyal" sidekick, is he? When it all comes down to it, he's a selfish prat, thinking of nobody but himself. The PoA incident with Crookshanks, then GoF when he accused Harry of putting his name into the Goblet - there's been numerous occaisions in which that red haired git has allowed his jealously to get the better of him and abandoned his friends all because of his own petty insecurities.

Halfway through Deathly Hallows, I was ready to strangle him. I know the locket probably brought most of it on - but I don't see that as an excuse for him to throw a childish temper tantrum and blow up about Harry not knowing what he's doing. Okay, so you miss mummy's cooking, and living your life as a lazy sloth..

No reason to take it out on your two best friends. At least your parents are still alive, you ignorant MORON. I was rather pleased when Harry told him off, though. :)

All in all; Ron has always been an annoying, pain in the butt character to me. Utterly useless, really.

I can't wait to see what other creative ways you come up with to kill him.

*adds story to favorites*

Weasley is NOT my king."

So many things wrong.

Ron has been nothing other than awful to Hermione ? What about 'You're the most wonderful person I've ever met ?' 'She's been perfect, as usual.' ? What about getting detention several times (and one washing bedpans) for defending her ?

#ron weasley #hp #anti ron-hate

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