#Mumbling about how mortals are inferior

[fey-ax]

At first, I was shaken when I saw the 2 on empathy for Kuras. But after thinking about it for a few moments it does make sense. He is a being who lived for eons. Living a short life is probably as relatable for him as being immortal for us. I bet even monsters don't have life spans as long as him.

Moreover, imagine how painful it would be to have a lot of empathy and see people die again and again. Not just because of war or disease, but because their life is finite.

I think Kuras is keeping people at a distance as a way to protect himself, but sometimes he gets too close to someone despite himself.

[muddyorbsblr]

to save her pt1

See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration requested by: @my-gf-loki

Summary: When Loki loses a wager against Thor, he has to spend a few hours on Midgard and play by his brother's rules. When he meets you, he suddenly no longer felt too sour about losing.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings [spoilers]: major character death

Things to be aware of: Story takes place in 1990s

"Hogun has developed more various techniques in combat, I am positive he will prevail in this little showcase," Thor declared proudly as he watched his warrior friends engaging in a friendly match for the sake of their training. 

Loki simply tutted at his brother in response, confident in his prediction of the outcome was quite different from the god of thunder's. "Fandral's height and arm reach will grant him the advantage he requires to best Hogun in this match, Brother." 

"So smug once again, little Brother," the blond god chuckled. "How about we make this more interesting with a wager?" 

"I'm in," the god of mischief responded with a taunting tone. "When I win you must spend the remainder of the day as a goose. Only when you retreat to your chambers to sleep for the night will you return to your regular form." 

Thor merely laughed heartily at the wager, seemingly self-assured that he would not be partaking in any shapeshifting this fine day. "And when I win, Brother, you will spend until nightfall within Midgard, walking amongst the mortals wearing their tourist apparel." 

"Enjoy your time waddling and honking."

"Enjoy your afternoon in Midgard." 

The brothers waited with bated breath as the two warriors had exchanged blows, evenly matched with Fandral's agility and Hogun's speed. After a few minutes of metal clanging and lighthearted battle cries, a strangled sound of disbelief echoed across the training field as Hogun stood above Fandral victorious. 

"It seems we are off to the Bifrost, Brother. Remember, you must stay  until nightfall, and you must walk among the mortals. No scurrying into your libraries and book shops idling the time away. People should see you. I will have Heimdall presiding over this to ensure that you will abide by these rules." 

Thor had decided that he would choose where within Midgard Loki would be sent off to, which was how the raven-haired god found himself walking the streets of New York City, perusing the stalls to find a merchant that offered tourist's apparel.

Equipped with some Midgardian currency acceptable in this country, he approached the first merchant he found, grumbling his intent to buy one shirt that ostentatiously stated that the wearer "hearts NY", handing over the amount required to purchase the inferior garment. 

"You don't look too happy with your purchase there, buddy," a voice spoke up from somewhere beside him. He looked over to see the one who belonged to that all too casual sounding voice that seemed as if there was sympathy behind her sentiment, but also just the slightest touch of mockery. A combination that he prided himself that only he excelled in; for that reason alone, he wanted to see this person face to face.

When he saw you, he needed to take a moment to compose himself. Truthfully whenever he visited Midgard he never once took the time to properly look at the people walking around him, refusing to take in their features, let alone pay attention to how engrossed they were in such mundanities of their day to day lives.

But one look at you, with your inquisitive doe-like eyes, your hair neatly falling to the middle of your back with half of it pulled back into a nondescript hair tie, eyebrow raised in a clear expression of amusement, and the god who usually had so many words he could tire out any partner in conversation…was at a loss for them. With your elegant features and your almost aristocratic posture, you seemed just as out of place as the Asgardian in this garment store.

"I lost a wager to my brother," he mumbled in explanation, bringing you to begin melodically chuckling in response. "I am to walk these streets adorning this garish garment until nightfall. Apparently a representative of his will be overseeing my activities to ensure that I will be playing by his rules." 

"Yikes. Sorry, buddy. Sounds like that sucks a fat one. You have my deepest sympathies." While your words sounded sincere, the smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth remained, compelling Loki to smile at the sight of you despite his efforts to remain stoic…or even surly at the predicament he was about to find himself in. 

"And what of you, milady? What brings you to this establishment of kitschy garments?" 

"Milady?" you questioned in awe.  "I have never met anyone who actually used that unless they were playing a bit. You're not an actor, are you? Going a little too method into your role there?" He furrowed his eyebrows at you, shaking his head in response. "Huh. Maybe I just haven't met too many people across the pond then. Gotta change that one of these days…" you trailed off before lightly hitting your head with the bottom of your palm. "Oh, right. What brings me here. Well my aunt and uncle are in town and I've been assigned with getting them some Big Apple souvenirs. So much fun…not." 

The god nearly felt the sharp pang of loss as you approached the merchant to purchase the garments you'd chosen for your relatives. He wasn't quite ready to conclude your conversation yet; your presence had not been as grating as that of the other people he'd encountered in this realm. He could stand to be around you a few more minutes. Hours even. He was even willing to explore the possibility of spending days around you, if you'd let him.

When you turned around to face him, he braced himself for the inevitable farewell. Never having even gotten your name. But then your next words had his heart beating a little harder in his chest. "So you have to walk around here for a few hours, huh?" He nodded mutely at your question. "Well then, I have a few hours to kill. Honestly just prolonging the inevitable inquisition from relatives that just revolve around why I gained weight or why I'm perpetually single, and I will gladly put that off until the second coming of Christ so…you want some company?" 

You were offering to accompany him? Willingly? What had he done today that had the Norns smiling down on him so? "I--I would love some company," he stammered, clearing his throat and trying to smoothen his suddenly rough voice. 

The smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth had affected him so strangely; he could swear that he could feel himself beginning to yearn. All he knew at that moment was that he wanted to see that smile again, that he wanted to give you reason after reason to smile in his presence. "Well, I always think that it's a terrible idea to be in the company of strangers, so let's fix that real quick, shall we?" You held your hand out to him. "I'm Y/N." 

He took your hand in his, but instead of shaking it, he turned it over in his grasp and bent down to press his lips to your knuckles. "Hello, Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Loki." 

You spent the next few hours walking down the length of Broadway, and the god found himself given the rare opportunity to talk to someone without being interrupted or being told to stop because he'd gone off on tangent after tangent. No. Instead, he'd found that at every detour his stories had taken, you'd listened and followed right along with him, asking questions that further proved to him that you were just as engaged in the exercise as he was. 

When he saw that the sun had nearly fully set and the city had begun to be shrouded by the night sky, a heavy weight had settled over his heart, the disappointment over his time with you coming to a close sinking in. It was clear from your expression that to some degree, you shared the same sentiment. "Looks like it's time to rejoin the land of the nosy relatives," you grumbled.

"Well that may very well just be the beautifully tragic thing about family and the double edged sword that is unconditional love." 

You shook your head at him in clear disagreement. "I don't believe that love should be unconditional. Gives people cute ideas. You tell them that you love them and that you'll be there for them no matter what and suddenly they find themselves testing the limits just to see if there really are none. Unconditional love means that someone can exploit and abuse that love, and at the end of the day you'll still be there, gluing the very same heart that they shattered back together to hand it back over to them. I refuse to ever let anyone have that power over me. Even family." 

Once again Loki found himself taken aback at your response, having him believe that you were far from Midgardian after all. These humans thrived on the idea of that type of love, wrote such poignant literature about it, some even died for it, and here you were refusing to succumb to the concept of it. Choosing to be rational instead. 

An approach that he agreed with, an outlook on the universe that he shared. 

Before he could process the words, they slipped out of his mouth. "I like you, Y/N." 

His outburst of sentiment had you breaking out into a beaming grin. "I like you, too, Loki." You briefly took his hand in yours, giving it a quick squeeze before letting go once more. "If ever you're in town again, look me up. My last name's Y/L/N. I work in the Oracle building in Manhattan. Near Central Park." 

And then, as if you hadn't blindsided him enough times today already, you did so one final time, as you stepped closer to him, stood on the tips of your toes, and lightly pressed your lips to his cheek. "Until next time," you whispered, before promptly turning around and walking away from him. 

Next time, he thought to himself, allowing a smile to ghost across his features.

When Thor was once again feeling confident about setting up a wager against his brother, this time over a duel between Volstagg and Hogun, Loki found himself looking for the less likely outcome and placing his confidence behind that. His intention was clear only to himself: He wished to lose so that he may have a reason to visit Midgard again. To see you again. 

"Next time" had finally come.

He held back a knowing smile as he watched Hogun win once again, ready to revisit Midgard again. Ready to look for you. Thor had decided that for this visit, he would need to sit in a coffee shop and fully engage in conversation with any mortal that approached him. There were to be no illusion casting to fool the mortal, no mentally disconnecting from the conversation. He was to be fully present. 

Not an hour later, Loki found himself in New York once again, observing the city dwellers how they proceeded to communicate with one another, and shortly after stepped into a phone booth to peruse the directory for one Y/N Y/L/N. It was just after the luncheon hour when he situated himself upon a seat in a cafe close to the structure displaying the name Oracle on its facade. 

He passed the time nursing a cup of coffee, watching the door as the humans filed in. Perhaps he'd missed his window? Had he taken too long searching for your building?

"Hey, stranger." His gaze snapped up at the sound of your voice, a smile finding its way to his face at the sight of you. "This is a nice surprise."

To say that he was elated at the turn of events, to have you be the first mortal that approached him, albeit he did have to mastermind this "chance encounter" in order to increase the chances of it being so, was an understatement. He invited you to join him for a coffee, which quickly turned into two and a shared slice of cake, as you talked about your duties and aspirations in life.

How despite what the realm thought about him he didn't wish to be King, but rather only to be given the opportunity to aid in the betterment of the Nine. To be seen as more than simply a troublemaker. He had more to offer than wiles and tricks; he could provide council, strategize, even fight with the best of them. If only he were to actually be given a chance to prove it.

Once again you listened intently, even held his hand through portions of his story, telling him how these people were fools who failed to see in knowing him for majority of his life what you'd seen within a few hours of being in his company. You told him how you could see that he was brilliant, that if you were in the place of these people who clearly desperately required council you'd seek out someone objectively intelligent, rather than just someone you were familiar with. 

"These people don't deserve you, Loki," you said softly, keeping your hand within his gentle grasp. "And you deserve so much better." 

At your words he found himself yearning for that better to perhaps be a life with you. It mattered not where it would be, whether it be Midgard or Asgard or anywhere in the Nine Realms. He knew it irrational to think such thoughts upon knowing you for barely a heartbeat in his extensive lifetime, but he so desperately longed for that life regardless. And even more desperately, he longed for you to want that life as well.

He looked to the sky to allow himself a brief interlude from your piercing gaze, dread setting in as he saw the sun beginning to set. "Darling, I have to apologize, it seems I've held you from your duties for an extended period. I would understand if you need to--"

"Don't worry about it," you dismissed his concerns so casually. "Nobody in that office notices a woman's presence until she makes a mistake." A rueful smirk colored your features as you finished your statement with, "And I haven't made any mistakes so far. So I'm blissfully invisible." 

He reached across the table to lightly hold your chin with his free hand. "You're far too beguiling to be invisible, dear Y/N." You let out a warm exhale against his thumb when he lightly ran it across your bottom lip. "A woman like yourself deserves to be seen." 

"Well maybe I should only be seen by the right people," you murmured in response, your gaze unwavering in its intensity as it locked onto the god's. "Are you only here again until nightfall?" 

He could feel the melancholia setting over your heads like a taunting shroud, a ticking clock waiting to chime and bring you both out of the little pocket of peace you'd found in this little cafe. "I'm afraid so, dear Y/N." He shifted his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking along your cheekbone. The ache in his heart intensified as you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as if you were relishing this very moment the same as he was. "I wish to see you again. Soon," he uttered before he could hold back the words.

Your eyes opened and met his once more, shining with a fondness that threatened to steal the air from his lungs if he stared for too long. Which he was; he couldn't find it in himself to look away. "I would like that very much." You reached into your bag and handed him a large rectangular device. "If you find yourself with plans to visit again, call me before you do. It's the only number programmed on there anyway, and it's not like the company would miss one phone from stock. Call me, and I'll take the day off work." 

Your Highness, it is time. Your brother is anxiously awaiting your return, Heimdall's voice echoed in Loki's mind. It was as if you'd heard the voice as well because you stood up from your seat and walked over to his side of the table.

"Until next time, I suppose," you said softly, placing your hand on his shoulder and leaning in to press a kiss on his cheek. 

"Next time," he muttered, looking upon you with longing coating his every word as he watched you walk out of the establishment to return to your duties. He looked to the sky and addressed Heimdall. "Not a word to my brother about her." 

"Brother, I am convinced you are intentionally losing now. How have you wagered wrong thrice in a row? I believe you much more analytical than that," Thor goaded as Loki once again lost in wagering on the outcome of a sparring match between Volstagg and Fandral this time. 

"Perhaps you do not give yourself enough credit, Brother," the god of mischief remarked in an attempt to deflect his brother's train of thought. "It is pitiable that you would rather believe I was losing intentionally rather than that you were genuinely triumphant." 

"Say what you wish, Brother, but I know you better than you might think. Not only did you lose for the third time in our little wagers, but you seem…delighted  that you'd lost." He gasped in such an animated manner that Loki compared him to a child…perhaps a toddler, who'd been given a few too many sweets at the table. "You met someone on Midgard, didn't you?" 

The raven-haired god blanched at how quickly he'd come to the right thought. "I know not what you're talking about, Brother," he mumbled.

"Nonsense. Tell me about her." He glared at Thor. "Him?" More glaring. "Come on, Loki. At least tell me one thing about this Midgardian."

"There is no Midgardian," he lied through gritted teeth. His brother always somehow found a way to obtain the things he desired for himself; he couldn’t entirely blame it on Thor, for it was simply the way of nature. People liked his jovial disposition especially when put in stark contrast to Loki's. All he longed for was that he could prolong that inevitability and keep you for himself just a little while longer. 

"So you obtained that archaic-looking device from Midgard for what then? Sentimentality?" The sarcasm was dripping from the god of thunder's voice as Loki dialed the only number programmed in the device, laughing boisterously as he received an even more pointed glare from his brother. "Listen, Brother, don't tell me about this person if you wish. I can remain content in at least knowing you have someone who lights you up the way you are now." 

"Hello?" a voice spoke from the device. Your voice. "Loki? Is that you?" 

He quickly brought the device up to his ear, speaking into the bottom of it. "Y/N. Yes it's me. You said to call once I have plans of visiting again. I should be there within the next two hours. Is it too short of a notice for—"

"Not at all." He could nearly hear you smiling as you said the words. "I'll call in sick for work today and you'll call me when you get here?"

"That sounds excellent, darling." He turned his back to Thor so that he wouldn't see the smile growing on his face. "I look forward to spending the day—" A feeling of dread settled over him as he heard the sound of skidding tires and horns blaring over from your end of the call, first distant but quickly increasing in volume…and proximity. 

"Loki?" you said softly, the dread and confusion audible in your tone. The final words he heard from you before the sound of metal crunching like cheap aluminum came through to his end. Followed by the sound of your device hitting the ground. 

"Y/N?" he choked out. Part of him already knew you wouldn't answer, but he had to try regardless. "Darling?" His voice was barely audible. There was nothing but sirens and panicked voices that all melded together as he heard his pulse drumming violently in his ears. 

All he knew as he felt Thor's hand clap over his shoulder, the device dropping from his hand just as his knees hit the hard floor of his chambers, was that his world had shattered around him. 

A/N: Ngl writing the last bit broke me a little because the precious bb was so happy he was gonna see her again and then…🥲😭

Everything taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @my-gf-loki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @creationsbyme @coldnique

[shini--chan]

The reader mumbles about how she wished to be an human like.

Don't you wish sometimes you would be an human? I mean they live an normal life marry someday, have kids and die together and the end. And we live so long now, I hate it, my past lovers are now all dead.

A bit of a strange ask, but nevertheless interesting. I’ll be taking England for this one, since the grumpy rat wouldn’t take it well.

Warnings for suicidal ideation, mind break and other shady stuff

Yandere England – Shatter

Arthur stared at you. You had been strangely lethargic lately, dragging your feet do matter how much he snapped at you to walk properly, eyes drooping and smile seeming even more strained than usual. There was something dead to your gaze, a light that had been snuffed out, something that went beyond dissociation.

You didn’t want to be here but that was something both of you had come to ignore over time. Thus, a peculiar insanity had made itself comfortable, where the two of you would pretend that this relationship was normal. It was surely better that the alternative, than the cursing and the crying, the blood on the floor and chains on the bed post. Though, playing pretend had only let the wounds fester and this was the culmination of it.

“Have you ever considered being mortal?”, you asked out of the blue one evening, when the lights were already out and he had tucked himself in bed. You were standing at the foot of the bed, night shirt and scraggly hair making you look like a creature out of a horror movie.

(You hadn’t brushed your hair again. How dare you! You were supposed to take care of yourself, make yourself pretty and presentable for him. He had spent countless hours drilling the rules of conduct into your inferior little skull and by the looks of it, it seemed like everything had gone in one ear and then directly out the other. This needed correcting. Perhaps...)

“No, now stopped muttering gibberish and come to bed”, he commanded. That was a lie. He had often stared at humans, or transients, as he liked to call them, and wondered how it would be like to live such a wretched, short live. Looking back on history, only the fewest of those mayflies really amounted to something. So it was more out of morbid curiosity and pity that England entertained the idea of being a human. But he didn’t want to talk about that with you, especially since you didn’t seem to be in the right state of mind.

However, you persisted on following that dangerous train of thought.

“Don't you wish sometimes you would be a human? I mean they live a normal life marry someday, have kids and die together and the end. And we live so long now, I hate it, my past lovers are now all dead.”

This just kept getting weirder and weirder. Personifications didn’t yearn to have children, because children meant succession and succession meant death. Marriage wasn’t the giddy affair it usual was for humans, because it was either a political alliance that would one day dissolve into war or a mean of establishing control, of colonialism, that ended in blood and vows of vengeance if it ended at all.

You wanted to die. No responsible personification yearned for death. They all lived to be eternal, to strive on and on and on until there was no history and no future, only they.

“You’ve gone insane. Do you hate me that much?”, he ask, slowly clambering out of bed, cautiously opening one of the drawers to his cabinet. There was chloroform somewhere here.

“I’m simply tired of all this. Is it so bad for me to want it to end?”, you asked in a voice that was far to high and with a giggle that sounded like nails scrapping down a chalk board. His fears were confirmed.

Arthur wouldn’t take it well at all. He would think that you would just want to leave him, seeing death as the only option since he had quelled every rebellion, and thwarted every escape attempt. This would probably happen after one of the aforementioned incidents, where your dashed hopes would make world weariness creep upon you big time. How couldn’t you not want all of this to end, when all the days melted together until there was no future or the past, only a miserable present where you had to bow to all the whims of a possessive madman? When no matter how fast you ran, you just seemed to stay on the same spot?

England would seek to eradicate that “rebellious” train of thought as fast as he could. It would necessarily be through words of comfort, but rather mind games, and psychological manipulation and torture. He would very likely make your mental state even worse, but if you would shut up about dying and rebelling then he would be a happy man.

[theredsuzuran]

Yandere Muzan x Reader

I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors, also for my crappy writing I hope It does not bore you lol. Slight mention of gore

It was the time of summer

A multitude of people hovering over one another in the vast space of the lively Asakusa city occupying the streets like tiny ants. Unfortunately it was same monotonous sight for kibutsuji Muzan progenitor of the morbid demon race, who seems to be roaming around uninterestingly looking for a suitable prey to hunt. The fleeting lives of mortals, their compassion, happiness, sorrow, pain held no value to him. They are pests who belong in the dirt or beneath his feet, inferior compare to a perfect being like himself. Nothing more than a tool that he won't hesitate to discard after his desires are fulfilled. All of a sudden his gaze felt upon a petite figure near a tailor shop, a large number of people gathering around her.

What's the matter, mister? Muzan inquired to a man next to him.

"if you are new definitely try her kimonos, now make way" the man said quickly as he rushed to the shop pushing all the people away. He was interested to know what the deal was about so he decided to stay for a while hoping it's worth the wait.

After a long delay muzan finally got the chance to view the women. As their eyes locked the dazzling city lights broader than the day itself felt dull in comparison for a moment, the once monochromatic world seems to change vibrantly with her luminous presence, As if goddess Amaterasu, the diety of sun herself have ascended from the heaven into the mortal realm. The demon lord stood there mesmerized by her breathtaking beauty, how can someone so close to perfection exist alongside those barbarians.

"How can I help you mister?" She questioned politely with her soft vocal. His endless thoughts were interrupted breaking the silence.

"Show me your kimonos"

And so his obsession started..

Days passed since his last encounter with the woman. He have come across numerous marvelous humans in everlasting lengthy life but never have his ruby eyes caught a glimpse of someone as alluring as her. The girl possesses an unique aura that differentiated her from the rest of the crowd, able to draw attention from the cold hearted creator of cannibalistic demons. At first muzan was just curious to know about that woman, possibly persuade her to become one of his underling because of the potentials she may carry. He frequently begun to visit her shop to but or sew different fabrics. Gaining basic information, like her name, likes and dislikes, etc. Her grandfather owned the tailor shop which sold finest quality garments from the beginning and were highly respected for their excellent tailoring. Continued by (y/n) at her family's will, who runs the shop with equal undying devotion.

She treated him with such kindness even though he was a ruthless demon not that she knew about it or let alone the existence of demons. The deepest corner of his dark heart illuminated with pure light whenever she was around and he came to the conclusion that she was the ray of sunshine he desires to perceive. Eversince he was cured from his fatal illness the only goal in his life was to conquer the sun which prevents him to achieve absolute perfection, in order to live an eternal and indestructible life or so he thought until that very day his eyes laid upon you. It would be stupid to think that demons are capable of experiencing love, concepts of feelings are completely foreign in their conciousness, it was more like obsession. His megalomania makes him believe he needs you no he wants you.

Alas, if only it was a fairytale. The king does not always gets what he desires and same goes for the demon lord when he finds out that his beloved darling already has a lover. As he witnessed the sight of you hugging your partner with passion. The way her eyes flutter infront of him when he caresses her cheeks making her turn away bashfully and how she hold his hand with her delicate ones while exchanging vows of love and loyalty towards each other made his blood boiled with fury. If anyone who can hold her fragile frame is none other but the demon lord himself yet there she was sharing intimacy with some filthy creature. His narcissistic self was put down with a lowlife, he cannot accept that his (y/n) was claimed someone else's. It was something he would never allow to happen.

"Kibutsuji san would you like to buy something today as well?" The women who now acknowledge his presence asked him cheerfully.

"Should I visit you later" a force smile graced on his pale features.

"Oh no, it's fine, let me introduce you to my fiancee" she said excitedly.

"Nice to meet you kibutsuji san" your fiancee said

"Pleasure to meet you as well" The demon scoffed under his breath but Kibutsuji was quite adamant he knew it was not hard to turn the tables anytime sooner as with a blink of an eye he can get rid of him by simply ordering his underlings without even hesitating to dirty his hands exclusive for his precious darling. But that was not what muzan was planning to do at all as his mind was engulfed with much sinister thoughts.

To insanity?

"You have been restless for a long time, what's wrong my child?" A man asked with a look of concern written all over his face looking straight at the figure of an anxious woman roaming around impatiently within the house.

"Its been a week father since he last wrote a letter to him" she mumbled softly disappointment painted across her features. The father could not help but laugh a little by her daughter's remark.

"Father please it is serious"

"I am sorry sweetheart but it might be that your fiancee is busy with wedding preparation" which made sense because the wedding would be taking place after three day and it was obvious that he was caught up with the arrangement. However there was a strange feeling inside her stomach which made her believe otherwise.

As the days passed the wedding day came close, with (y/n) still not receiving any message from her lover. Worried her to the core at this point all she wanted was to make sure of his safety as something constantly felt off. The guests came in one by one for the wedding ceremony but there was no sign of the groom.

It was getting unbearable for her to remain confined. Ignoring her father's request to stay inside she went outside in hope to check whether or not her lover was approaching but once again she was greeted with emptiness. Her eyes swell up with tears forming on both corners allowing her body to slowly hit the surface as she convinced herself that her lover will never come. The worst was yet to happen and before she could make any movement the ground beneath her feet started shaking and a shoji door opened consuming her into the darkness.

It was just the start of her miserable life under the demon's control.

"So you are finally awake", a sudden voice came echoing into her eyes as she slowly opened her eyes after regaining her consciousness. She moved her hands upwards in order to ease the headache only to find her hands tied up with shackles, a chilling sensation of overwhelming fear filled her entire senses as she remembered what happened prior.

"Where am I? Why am I chained?" Who are you?" she demanded furiously at the mysterious figure infront her which was now advancing at her direction from the dark corner of the dimly litted room.

"You are quite an impatient one?" The man gripped her chin roughly as her eyes protruded out with bewilderment.

"Can't even remember your daily customer?" A wicked smile curved across his countenance.

"K..Kibutsuji san" she parted her lips. Tears forming in her eyes once again. This made muzan even more irritated as he tightened his grip on her chin. (Y/n) whimpered with pain crying out loud.

"Your shouting won't help dear nobody apart from me can hear you scream" he said bluntly with his cold apathetic voice.

"Why?" (Y/n) lowered her head down holding his hand with her delicate ones trying her best to get a hold of him.

"Pardon?" Muzan inquired as he stared at your quivering form with his souless eyes there was no empathy in them or whatsoever although he felt pity. He cannot deny the fact that he was indeed attracted to her that's the reason why he put her into so much hassles.

"Where is my lover?" She asked sternly with her voice shaking a bit.

"Oh" muzan responded his hand still holding her chin tightly. This made her even more anxious she was unaware of the power he might possess and definitely she didn't had any intentions to risk her life.

"Why can't you humans move on and accept circumstances given before you?" it startled her as she cannot process what he meant.

"I don't.. u..understand" she said.

"Then you have to learn to accept me as your partner" muzan replied coldly (y/n) sat there looking at him with disbelief her heart and soul belonged to someone else and for a long time they have been together it's absolutely impossible to change the reality she was accustomed with just because some maniac wants to make her his partner.

"I can never" she murmured with disgust hinted in her voice. "I love him" throwing daggers in his direction not ready to submit her futile attempts of protest should pissed the demon lord even more but to her surprise she saw him smiling menacingly and in the corner of her eyes she saw the figure of her debilitate lover.

"Start from his fingers" muzan ordered one of his subordinate as they began chopping one of his finger making him scream in pain.

"No! please don't hurt him" trying to break free from the shackles she was tied with realizing it was fruitless she fell on the demon's knee begging with all the strength left within her in a last desperate attempt.

"You left me with no other choice, dear" he explained playing his sick games of manipulation on her. This was exactly what he needed to break her mind and she cannot help but rely on him pleading for his forgiveness feeding on his massive ego providing him ultimate satisfaction to witness the quivering frame of his darling clinging onto his knee in pure submission.

"Please I will do anything you say" she requested shaking like crazy.

"Anything?" Muzan questioned raising his eyebrow

"Yes" she replied without any hesitation.

"Be mine"

She already knew that he wanted this and she readily obliged in order to save her beloved, sacrificing her own life. Her only purpose was now to satisfy the demon lord, he was successful until the very end and it won't take long to make her completely his.

[douxparadies]

Butterfly effect

SUMMARY: Draco knows when his life was ruined, when the selection hat shouted Gryffindor over his head instead of Slytherin.

Pairing: slight Draco Malfoy x Oc 

Word Count: 13k.

A/N: This idea had been going around in my mind for quite some time and, only now, I managed to pass it on to the keyboard. I hope you like it, as I like to write it.

This idea quickly covers the original books, but perhaps if they like it, it will cover a little more of their adult life or some particular time. This story might actually be a long story in some future, but it is still in meditation.

                                                        ♦♦♦

 Draco Malfoy has a perfect life, is a pure blood and is at the top of the wizarding society. His life was always surrounded by perfection, even if his father was sometimes too strict, it was the best for him. The supremacy of blood, his father insisted every day, as if he had to engrave it in his memory. His mother, although she did not seem to support him in everything, not that she complained, was the perfect wife who obeyed her husband. So, he grows up tough, he can't play all the time and he has to be perfect like his family.

We are better.

She remembers her father commenting one day in Diagon Alley, pointing to the family of red hair. His father is the man he admires, so when he sees him despise others, he does the same.

But his life does not go as planned.

Draco can define the exact moment and the word that ruins his life from an early age. Where his whole perfect world falls apart in a single moment, where the nightmare seems to begin and where his life gives an unexpected change from what it should have been.

“Gryffindor” is the cry of the hat, after a long period of deliberation in his head.

The room is completely silent.

He is petrified.

Draco had been completely sure that he would go to Slytherin, his parents were in that house, that was his destiny. Almost as a joke he remembers his father wanting to send him to Durmstrang, but his mother changing her mind because she wanted to keep him close to home. How much he would have wished not to be in this house, how much he would have missed being at another school.

His parents were going to kill him.

He walks almost like a dead man, to that bright red table where nobody applauds and they look confused when he sits as far away as possible. He thinks of his suitcase full of green clothes, he thinks of his father who had practically demanded that he be in the snake house. He doesn't look up all night, almost clenching his fists in annoyance.

His usual arrogance, which he always imitates from his parents, doesn't show.

He doesn't have it at that moment.

He ignores that the first-year students follow their superiors, he runs following the teachers, almost skating when he sees the director talking to his godfather Snape. He had a frightened face when he was left in the lions' house. He practically begs, ignoring that his father would be ashamed, he begs to be moved from the house where he should be.

“I'm sorry, my boy, your home is now Gryffindor," Albus admits with some regret in his eyes.

Draco turns his face to Snape in a last attempt to help, but he just looks away and his hopes are dashed. There's still one left, his father would never let it end that way, he would find a way for it to go to the house it was meant to be.

But as Draco learns at a young age.

Things don't happen the way he wants them to.

Ignoring that he has to spend a week in the tower of Gryffindor, with a bunch of useless people who hate him almost as much as he hates them, ignoring above all Harry Potter (who is the last of his problems at the moment with the redheaded boy) and practically behind everything in his classes. He doesn't go out to eat if he can avoid people and just waits for the moment when his father fixes all this misunderstanding.

And it happens.

When Snape quotes him after his potions class in the principal's room, a genuine smile appears on his face as he enters and sees his father standing in front of Dumbledore. A boastful smile appears on his face when he feels that he will finally get out of the hell he has lived through in a week.

But at that moment, it was where all start.

The slap comes so quickly, that even the pain, seems not to appear and he feels that he is still in the middle of a nightmare. An ironic part inside him thinks that all this is a dream, that at any moment his mother would enter his room scolding him because they would be late. That he would be in Slytherin in a few hours.

“A complete disappointment, you can't even enter a house, what a shame to have a useless person sharing my blood” every word from his father, makes his smile fade from his face.

It makes him incredulous.

Your father sees him with hatred, as he always sees those of dirty blood, as he sees those inferior to them.

Draco turns to see everyone in the room, thinking that all this was a bad joke, that this is a nightmare, he almost begs someone to wake him up. But when he sees his mother in the distance of the room, lowering her gaze, when he sees the uncomfortable look of Snape or the pity look of the director.

Something inside him breaks.

I am a failure.

It is his thought, before turning around and running away, that he does not stop when he leaves the castle or when he enters the forbidden forest. In the middle of the forest he lets out his tears, as he kneels down embracing himself, feeling the perfect dream where he had lived this time.

It is destroyed.

                                                        ♦♦♦

Draco wonders why he still attends classes, his father had practically given up on him in an alarming way and his mother, following his father, does not send him letters or other things. It's as if he never had any parents and they never had a child, which sucked. He finds himself lost in the castle, not feeling part of the lion's house, but nowhere either. Snape sometimes seems to want to help him, but he couldn't care less. Even his housemates who hate him seem to leave him behind when they see him so depressed.

The world sucks.

It assumes when he starts eating monotonously when everyone else does, only the farthest thing from everyone else.

He is depressed.

As pathetic as that can be.

Sometimes his gaze falls on the house of the snakes, seeing them with envy and wishing he were there, everything would be easier. His parents wouldn't hate him or reject him as it happened, he would probably be the best of his generation, the popular type because of his blood. But no, he was at the bottom of the food chain, he was pathetic, with no friends, no family, no status.

He sighed, waving his boring fork at the food.

His life was ruined and he didn't know what else to do.

He always thought that the people who came to Gryffindor, were the people who were sad to see, he was indeed right. Now he was a pathetic person who was embarrassed to see that.

A person takes a seat in front of him, ignores him as best he can until he hears him clear his throat. He gives his worst death stare to Harry Potter who appears in front of him. They have been in school for a little over a month and honestly, it was not someone he wanted to see. His father always told him stories about the boy who lived, as if it was his duty to be friends with someone so popular. Who turned out to be a very simple and annoying boy.

Although he was sincere.

Now he didn't care about that.

“What do you want?” he grumbled before shoving a potato into his mouth with a bit of rudeness.

This one seemed a little uncomfortable in front of him.

“I'm sorry, Ron was being a bit of an asshole, telling me not to go near you because you're a pain in the ass, but you really look...bad” the last word comes out of his mouth with hesitation as he grimaces as he speaks.

A humorless laugh comes out of his mouth.

No one knows your misfortune.

He was a nobody.

The memory of his father's cold eyes, make him angry for no apparent reason.

“You should have listened to that blood traitor” he mumbles weakly.

Was he a blood traitor too?

His father treated him worse than one.

He notices a grimace on Harry's face.

“You're making Ron's point.”

“Look Potter, not that I'm interested, but what do you want from me?” he asks boringly this time.

Make fun?

Most of his Gryffindor ‘companions’ had clearly mocked him in the last month, about how someone of pure blood has to be with mere mortals. Like this how a Slytherin's mocked him as he passed by, saying that it was a shame that a pure-blooded person with his lineage ended up in that house. He clearly didn't fit in anywhere and was beginning to get tired of people looking for something of his own.

He didn't meet the standard they set for him.

To be a failure.

“Well, you look lonely, I thought we could be friends” says the boy with ease, who doesn't seem to be the same boy who almost rejected his friendship in the stair.

When everything was perfect and I wasn't in this horrible house.

He saw him confused, before getting up upset.

“I'm not looking for your fucking pity Potter and I'm not looking for your fucking friendship either” he grunt in anger before turning around and leaving the room.

He was angry.

He ended up in the library, feeling like a horrible book rat like the Ravenclaws, but it was the only place he felt he was calm. The only good thing was that he had taken advantage of this time to improve in all his classes, being alone and without friends, he would be a competent wizard, hoping that that way his father would not be disappointed in him.

He would be the best in his house.

Although Granger's bitch was making it difficult for him.

                                                       ♦♦♦

Childishly and still hopefully, he thought that the Christmas holidays were what he occupied, a few days away from all those Gryffindor (ignoring that he was one) and return to his home, where everything would be as it always should be. Of course, nothing goes as he hopes and the icy look on his father's face confirms that he still hates him. He tries uselessly to approach him every day, with the flame of hope, light but existing. But the only words I pronounced for him, was refusing to attend the party they used to do for Christmas.

That 24th of December, he spends in his room looking at nothing.

He felt that his family had abandoned him.

Going back to Hogwarts was stupidly better than being at home.

At least there he would just get away from everyone.

Following his plan to study as much as possible to be the best in his class and to prove to his father that he was worthy, even though he never had to work hard at anything in his life, it doesn't seem to be working. The letters he sends to his mother are mostly ignored, his father seems uninterested in acknowledging him and everything seems worse when Granger mercilessly sweeps away every damn exam.

Sometimes Potter takes a seat with him at meals, his friends seem to see him badly, but sometimes the Granger girl seems to follow him, to the grimaces of the Wesley boy, who never comes close.

“I hope you have a good day Draco” greets kindly Hermione, who seems encouraged that they are some kind of rivals in her house.

Both of them were the ones who contributed the most points.

He ignores her.

“You should come and see me play sometime,” says Harry sometimes, almost rubbing him the wrong way round, as he could get into the quidditch even though he's a year younger.

Of course.

It's Harry Potter.

But he who wants to move house, the laws cannot be flexible for him.

Ignore them both.

He ignores everyone in his first year, although when the time comes to return home, even though Harry Potter and company had to fight against, he really doesn't care what with, it ceases to be important when he is alone in a train carriage. When he arrives at the station, he can see how most children are welcomed by their family, but he feels the cold in his body when Dobby appears shyly in front of him.

His parents are busy, he says.

He laughs with irony.

His life sucks.

                                                           ♦♦♦

Being at home is more boring than being at Hogwarts, which is saying a lot. He eats at times when his father is away, his mother does not speak to him and he feels more alone than ever. He decides to go for a walk, with nothing to lose and almost wishing lightning would strike him to end that misery. He wants to get lost in the middle of the forest, never appear and stay there forever. His father had always tried to show him the pride of being a pure blood, but a part of him doesn't make sense.

His father loves prestige.

As he was no longer someone in his image, someone to be presumed, he was discarded.

He was useless.

He was not good enough for his father.

His only comment when he arrived home was that he was so useless, that a dirty blood it had beaten him on his grades.

He kicked a tree hard, not feeling the pain in his foot.

He hadn't asked for that, he hadn't asked to be in a family like that, he wanted his life before what was happening now.

“Kicking a tree is not very useful” a somewhat shrill voice speaks next to him.

He turns his face confused, not understanding where he was, he didn't know how long he had been walking and where he was, shit. The one who speaks is a girl, younger than him with red hair and brown eyes, who has clothes that do not look new and can identify as a member of the Weasley family.

As if that thought attracted them, two red hairs of identical face appear moments later.

“Look who Ginny has found.”

“Something quite curious in the forest.”

The Weasley twins speak in a somewhat scary coordination, he grimaces uncomfortably. The twins hadn't bothered him as much as others in the lion's house, but they were known as potential troublemakers.

The girl tilts her face in confusion.

He clicks his tongue.

His father would probably say something like "blood traitors" inciting him to walk away or make fun of them, but if he was sincere, his father treated him almost the same way at this point.

His stomach seems to ring at the wrong omentum and he blushes with shame.

What was missing.

The twins laugh in a not so discreet way. The girl gives them a reprimand before putting her hands on their hips and looking somewhat threatening.

He wants to die.

‘Never show weakness’

His father used to say.

“Are you hungry?” asked the girl with something like mercy.

He wants to treat her badly, he wants to run and tell everyone that he hates them, he wants the life he should have had, he doesn't want to be there.

He wants his life.

He wants to be Draco Malfoy, the powerful Slytherin he was meant to be.

But it doesn't happen, even in a world full of magic like this one, where nothing seems impossible, his wish is never fulfilled no matter how much he seems to ask for it.

“No” it is cursed that his voice comes out so hollow.

The girl's smile seems to be intact.

He feels a chill on his back.

                                                        ♦♦♦

No one says ‘No’ to Ginny Weasley, learns Draco sooner rather than later. He feels uncomfortable and in a parallel world when he enters the house of the "Weasley" family which the three children present as the burrow. He shouldn't be there, he thinks when the mother of the children sees him with big bulging eyes when they force him through the door, but a dog face to die from Ginny and commenting that he hasn't eaten anything, makes the matriarch even with doubts in her eyes, make him pass.

“This must be a joke," says Ron when he comes down to eat and sees him sitting at the table.

‘I wish’ Draco thinks ironically, thinking that this is the first time that they both agree on something.

Dinner (it's later than he thinks) is both a rumble and a twist, with the twins playing pranks on him, Ginny sitting next to him, excited and asking about Hogwarts, Ron giving him murderous looks, Percy looking confused and ignoring him for a book, even the father of the children watching him cautiously.

In spite of everything.

The dinner is quite good.

His father would probably kill him for eating something low class, along with blood traitors, but for the first time, he doesn't care. Because for the first time in a long time, the overwhelming silence of his home and the feeling of disappointing everyone is overshadowed by a meal that is too noisy.

“Why don't you stay over?”  Ginny asks innocently.

Everyone turns to see her as if she had gone mad, including him, it's not something anyone wants.

But as he learns and reaffirms.

Nobody can say no to the girl.

                                                         ♦♦♦

His parents ignore his letter where he says that he is sleeping at a friend's house, they do not ask, they do not look for him and that makes him feel worse. He could come back through the Flu network, but honestly, in this house where he does not feel comfortable, they seem to treat him better than his parents, which leaves a lot to be said. He begins to doubt Mrs. Weasley's mentality, which not only lets him stay without many explanations but also puts him in the same room as Ron.

Bad omen.

He practically vomits the way he has, so he is not surprised to sleep on the floor. What he is surprised about is how little he cares. He had never gone to sleep in someone else's house, always in his comfortable bed, surrounded by people he thought loved him. At least in that place people don't seem to ignore him completely.

Anyway, the floor is uncomfortable.

Draco does not know if Ron commented on something or started a conversation, he does not know if it was that he was too upset by his words or if he seemed resentful, what he do know is that he started the first blow. But in his defense, Ron also threw the next punch and they were both on the floor fighting like people without magic.

“For a brat in a golden cradle, you fight like a girl," he grunted before receiving a punch from him.

And it feels good.

To get out the anger and the rage he've accumulated for a year.

Fighting like a person without magic, his father would reproach him for falling so low, but he doesn't care when he throws himself on Ron and leaves him motionless on the ground. His cheek is hot and his eye is swollen, but he has never felt more alive than when Ron gave him a header to knock him down.

The sound seemed to alert the rest of the family, for I soon heard footsteps.

But he ignore them.

“You don't know how much I wish a family like yours” he grunts when Ron has punched him, he stops short, looking frozen by his sad look, even his body's pain from the struggle doesn't seem to matter “at least they don't ignore or despise me for being on Gryffindor” he adds before leaving his body flabby.

He does not want to keep fighting, he already took out the anger and his thoughts, that he never imagined having.

He?

Wanting to be part of a family of traitors, he had fallen so low, his father would probably despise him as much or more than he does now.

There is a chaos at the door that seems to have been opened long ago, before Mrs. Weasley starts to scold her son and he is pushed aside. He walks without much emotion behind the patriarch of the family, who sits him in the room and starts using magic to heal his wounds. He doesn't ask when he sees a scar on his arm, which definitely wasn't made by Ron, that it was his father's fault for throwing him a cup of hot tea that has cut him and nobody in his house wants to heal.

But this man that his father despises, treats him better than his father.

He assumes, a little late and a year after being ignored by his parents, that it is time to see people on their own and not by them.

“Life takes many unexpected turns Draco, but one thing I can tell you, is that it always gives us choices” says Arthur with a friendly smile.

He turns his uncomfortable face.

“This life has put you in Gryffindor, like a butterfly effect as the Muggles say, the little flutter of a butterfly can create a storm.”

“That sounds stupid.”

“You may be right, but what I mean is that a small change can bring about very big changes in life. I know you didn't plan to be on Gryffindor, but now you are, it's your destiny that's at stake and you can choose what decision you're going to make now”

He doesn't know if it's because he's the first adult or male figure who seems to recognize his existence or someone who seems to be able to help him. He ignores his father's mental voice, rebuking him for talking to him, he swallows all his bad thoughts, which seem to have his father's voice and not his own.

“I don't think I should have been at Gryffindor” he admits in an uncomfortable voice.

The only time he admitted that, both Snape and Dumbledore practically left him to his own devices.

A hand on his shoulder, it makes his eyes freeze in Arthur's kind.

“It's just a house, Draco, even though all my children are at Gryffindor, if my daughter Ginny went to another house, it doesn't matter, it's just a house, you're the one who decides your fate” he admits with a smile full of kindness, that he wants to make him cry.

But he holds back.

It couldn't be more pathetic.

Someone clears his throat and blushes, it seems that Mrs. Weasley has been listening for a while, because her distrustful look seems to have faded and she sees him with kindness, also some pity, but he ignores that because of her poor mental health.

“I think it's time to sleep, the twins accepted you in their room” she says with a pitiful look.

He nods before going to the twins' room, who smile politely, he thinks it's not so bad.

The next day he wakes up with purple hair.

He hates them, but laughs just as much when Ginny scolds them for being so childish, and for the first time in many days, he feels at peace.

                                                         ♦♦♦

When his father finds out where he's been, the slap comes so quickly that he can't help it, but even on the floor or that his mother seems upset for the first time, they don't compare when he's out of it, throws a cruciatus at him and something inside him, which is not the unimaginable pain, breaks. His mother screams in agitation and jumps to stop Lucius, who seems somewhat horrified at the sight of his wand, as if he doesn't believe that she did that to his son, but Draco couldn't care less. On the ground, he sees his father with a blank stare, while his mother tries to hug and comfort him.

But he doesn't.

That day he cuts off all relations with his father in a sentimental way.

His mother, on the other hand, seems to stop seeming important, because she doesn't say anything to her father and doesn't seem to do anything to stop him from ignoring him, calling him a blood traitor.

Returning to Hogwarts was a breath of fresh air.

                                                        ♦♦♦

Something changes that year, not only that Ginny was admitted to Gryffindor and greeted him kindly, but the twins who also seem to recognize him, pull some pranks on him, which he tries not to be a part of, but ends up in the middle. Harry and Hermione still sit down next to him to eat, but now Ron does too, he also gives him a look that looks like an apology and he shrugs his shoulders. It's not like they need to say anything out loud, what they said, or didn't say, was enough.

Harry seems happy when he starts answering his usual questions, which he didn't answer before.

Hermione seems excited when she arrives at the library and they study together.

Ron massacres him at chess and seems to help his self-esteem.

Ginny, who sometimes seems a little distant, smiles vaguely at him and he feels that something is wrong.

“Your sister acts strangely” he muses in a distracted way one day when Harry is at quidditch practice.

“What are you talking about?” Ron asks selflessly.

He doesn't know how to explain it, the memory of the kind and smiling girl who drags him all over the place, it's hard to connect with the girl who seems far away from every one, with big circles under her eyes and who acts paranoid.

“I'm not sure” he muses more to himself.

He stops when Hermione drags him to study and includes Ron, who complains loudly about it. At one point they both start to fight furiously, which he sighs for, preferring when Harry is around, so he can at least entertain himself with someone else.

                                                        ♦♦♦

“I'm not going to play quidditch, I only know the position of seeker and that one is occupied” he comments one day that he is reading his book, while Harry makes an angry gesture.

Last week they played quidditch in the playground for fun, the children were surprised that he wasn't bad, which he explains, it's a sport he plays as a child. Ron is not good and Hermione, well she is in a category of her own. Harry whines about having a capable partner in the middle of the team who is a friend of his or who is in the same year.

He ignores him and continues to study.

“You're a book eater like Hermione” says Harry, bored.

He throws a pillow at he mercilessly that hits he face.

“You could be good chasers”

 “I'm ashamed of you for being our seeker.”

The twins laugh at his comment, he laughs before dodging Harry's spell without much thought.

                                                          ♦♦♦

The year was not so bad, supposes Draco when he sees that this time he has many more people in his car back at the station. Ignoring that he and Harry ended up fighting a basilisk and that Ginny was possessed by a newspaper, it wasn't so bad. He has friends, he guesses, he never had any friends before and now he has them. Hermione seems delighted with her third year, Ron seems a little uncomfortable with the whole situation with his sister, who seems to be a little withdrawn at his side, he and Harry had rescued her for a very short time, but clearly she would have been traumatised.

When they get off the station, he sees everyone saying goodbye to him nicely.

“I think you'll be all right, if you survived that poem to Potter it can't be that bad” he jokes with Ginny, who for the first time since it happened.

Roll your eyes.

Draco is surprised to see her father at the train station, but this time he is not happy, that man is no longer someone he respects and his presence is intimidating. He swallows his saliva before it grabs him roughly by the hand and drags him out of the place.

This cannot be good.

And it is not.

His father slaps him saying that he is a fool, that he has interfered again with the return of the dark lord, while slapping him non-stop. This time his mother is not present before the next cruciatus he receives, or the three others that follow. Lucius now shouts that he is an idiot and that he is ruining his plans, before ordering Dobby to take him to his room, without remembering that his own stupidity set him free a few weeks ago with Harry.

He remembers it with pleasure.

A new Cruciatus is what he feels before he becomes unconscious.

                                                    *****

The next time he is conscious, he is in St. Mungo's hospital all alone, he sighs before going back to sleep, he raises one hand, the right one, which now has a horrible scar from his wrist to his elbow, his eyes are glazed over, the memory of the cruciatus is strong in his mind. Two days later he leaves the magic hospital, his mother picks him up, but he says nothing on the way home, which makes him feel sick, he won't say anything about the man who tortured him and cursed him until he lost consciousness.

He wants to laugh when they enter the house, which no longer feels like home.

“Andromeda, my sister, she could take care of you” she suddenly muses when they enter the place.

He looks at her with disbelief, before laughing bitterly.

“That man doesn't want me here anymore," he muses underneath, but her mother doesn't deny it.

It was true then.

You mum soon places a key in he hand, which makes him look confused, his eyes seem alarmed and he makes his lips in a thin line. He doesn't want to think about her eyes that look worried, when for two years she has practically left him at the mercy of mistreatment and her father.

“It's in my golden room at Gringotts, you can take anything you want, it's part of my Black heritage" she says quickly and he looks at her angrily.

“You can't do anything either," he muses with sarcasm and a murderous look.

His mother's eyes seem to apologize and he takes the key with hatred.

He hates the key.

But he is not an idiot either.

He runs to his room, taking some things he knows he will need, before going to the Flu net without seeing his mother and shouts the only place he can think of.

                                                       ♦♦♦

Mrs. Weasley seems to be incredulous when shyly asking for accommodation in her home, but it is quickly Arthur who accepts it with a friendly smile. He explains that he will pay for his maintenance, but they practically ignore him before going to Ron to tell him that he will be his new roommate. He doesn't seem happy, but doesn't ask much when he sees his gaunt face or the scar on his hand. "I had to get out of there" is all he says and this one doesn't press him, Ginny is the one who quickly makes him feel at home.

Her eyes, which do not look like those of a child, smile warmly when she sees her scar.

He understands her look.

It is as if she can tell him something.

The twins also soon seem to be playing their tricks on him and Percy seems pleased with his notes. But it's not until one night, when Mrs. Weasley scolds him for not being warm and gives him a gray knit jumper with a "D" on it, that he feels like he's going to cry. The twins joke that she will probably give him another one at Christmas, but he ignores it.

Harry seems surprised when he shows up days later and he shrugs his shoulders.

“We have a disgusting family", says his friend with a laugh and he can't help but laugh with understanding.

They both have that in common.

Actually, they have a lot in common.

They high-five when it's their turn to play quidditch with the twins and still win.

                                                         ♦♦♦

Draco looks on with pity on the first day of school when Harry seems destined to die, it's as if every year he's in the middle of bad and very bad luck. Although in his defence, it was as if all the bad things happened to him. For his part, ignoring the fact that he had practically abandoned his home, everything seemed to get better somehow. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were not in the habit of sending him things, but at Christmas they had given him a jumper and food. His mother had sent him a letter, which seemed to be hidden from his father, so he ignored it as much as possible.

“But she just appeared out of nowhere” Ron grunted one morning about Hermione that he ignored.

Lately Ron and Hermione had been arguing more.

It was annoying.

“They like each other," whispered Ginny to her funny side, which he agreed with her.

Although the friendship was mainly between Harry, Ron and Hermione, after they adopted him, somehow Ginny started to spend more time with them (a way of compensating for last year), also the twins and that boy called Neville who at first seemed to be afraid of him, but after seeing him and doing nothing to him, he spent time with him.

Not that Gryffindor had changed, of course, they didn't bother him like in his first year (for having friends he supposed) but everything seemed a little better.

Calmer.

He felt at peace.

This was his path, not one he would have chosen willingly, but it was the one he had and he would work at it.

"Like your obsession with Potter" taunts back to Ginny, who mercilessly tries to cast a spell on him and he knows it is better to run away.

When he passes through the corridor, the Slytherins look at him and make fun of him, he ignores them, but sometimes he thinks about what would have happened if he had been in that house.

Would things be different?

He had no idea.

                                                        ♦♦♦

Luna was a strange girl, but she was a friend of Ginny's. Probably, he thought ironically and sarcastically, his father would not approve of the strange girl's friendship, one more reason to let her study with both of them in the middle of the library. He seemed to space himself out a bit and ask her clearly indiscreet questions but tried to ignore him and not be so arrogant. Sometimes his natural side, the arrogance and pride that he had for so many years, would come out unintentionally, Harry would reprimand him, Hermione kindly pointed him out and with Ron they would hit each other sometimes, but it was okay, they taught him.

But now there was Ginny.

And Ginny was scary.

He wouldn't mess with her if he could help it, a wise lesson he and the twins used as their mantra.

“I can sit with you; you seem smart and I need help” spoke a voice beside him.

I turn his face with boredom.

A girl with short dark brown hair and light brown eyes was standing next to him with a somewhat silly smile. He recognized her as a Hufflepuff student who sometimes stood next to the girl Hannah, who sometimes stood by Neville and he unknowingly ignored her.

What was her name?

"I am Camile” she introduced herself when she sat down without waiting for a statement from him.

Just like the destructive Ginny.

Luna's madness.

This girl did not seem normal, too smiling and expert in spells, she seemed to know nothing about Runes and almost begged him to help her. He wants to refuse, but Ginny's gaze makes him sigh and accept her in the impromptu Wednesday study group.

She's about her age, but it seems a miracle that she made it this far.

“I'm good at the duels club” she says this one in a funny way before walking away at the end of the study.

He ignores her, not that he cares.

                                                       ♦♦♦

“How come we always end up on the brink of death," says Draco boringly in the middle of the infirmary.

After Harry's godfather, who turns out not to be bad and who is somehow (very distantly) related to him, ran away with a hippocriph that tried to attack him at the beginning of the year (but which he didn't do by chance). It also turns out that Professor Lupin was a werewolf and that Snape almost died trying to rescue them. Although he had some cuts on his hands, he ignores everything that Harry and Hermione did with the time-turns.

He just wants to sleep.

“In my defence I'm not looking for this” grunted Harry with his arms crossed somewhat annoyingly.

Out of the corner of his eye they both watch Ron and Hermione continue to argue.

They look at each other out of the corner of their eye before sighing.

“I think I'll bet they'll notice until the last year” he mumbles under Harry about the bet between the Weasley family and them both.

He shrugs his shoulders.

“I'm telling you Potter, Ron's going to propose, he's stupid, but it's my money on the line," he says with a slight yawn.

He sees how Hermione seems to be about to kill him, which makes him hesitate a little.

Harry laughs as he bets on Hermione.

He may be on a stretcher, two broken ribs, wounds all over his body, but he can't help but feel happy surrounded by friends.

                                                        ♦♦♦

Draco had a dream, one where he stayed at Slytherin's house, where he had everything he ever wanted in his first year. Also in the middle of the dream, he treated Harry and the rest of his friends badly, humiliated them, tried many bad things against them and at night in his bed, he didn't seem to feel good about it. Then he woke up, seeing all the red around him and realized that everything that happened, had been a silly dream, probably of his childish desires.

He did not like that dream.

Although he had the life he once wanted, he did not feel happy.

“I hate my life” snarled Harry across the dining room the next day.

Sigh.

Although they were all friends, Harry and Ron were the best of friends, but when the former was selected for the Triwizard Tournament which now had four participants, Ron seemed to walk away angry from his friend. He and Hermione were juggling each other to try and bring them together as friends again.

But it was difficult.

“You're unlucky and, I'll say this, it leaves a lot to be desired” he mumbles with amusement reading a book about potions.

Last year it didn't go so well and Snape, who was his godfather, seemed about to send him off for yet another failure.

With that kind of godfather.

“I didn't put my name on it.”

“I believe you.”

“Why doesn't Ron do it?”

Clearly the lack of his best friend affected him, he grimaced at the idea of admitting that Ron was clearly jealous. He was always jealous even of himself, until he explained about his family and they hit it off, Ron saw him as an equal, but with Harry.

They occupied something that would make them friends again.

If only Ron knew what he had and when he and Harry were jealous.

Things would be different.

“Give him time” he mumbles boringly.

Harry keeps ranting for several minutes, exchanging boring looks with Neville who shrugs his shoulders, there's not much to do.

                                                     ♦♦♦

“Hey blonde head” says one afternoon Camile appearing from nowhere.

He sighs bored and a little annoyed.

He is still studying with Ginny and Luna, many times Hermione joins them, but Camile was occasional, sometimes she spent weeks in a row with them and other times she almost didn't show up at all. The laughing girl was part of the dueling club and studied with Professor Mcgonagall because she wanted to be an animagus.

He loved it when she didn't show up.

She was annoying.

“What?” she says with more annoyance than she feels.

But the girl keeps smiling.

“I need help with a class," he says, still smiling and with both hands together as if she were asking for help.

He sees her with annoyance.

This brat.

“Look how low Draco has fallen, he's not only with the dirty blood and the traitor, now he surrounds himself with mestizos “ says Pansy Parkinson passing by with a group of Slytherin.

He looks at her with annoyance, but this disappears when, out of nowhere, Camile passes by and punches Pansy who leaves her on the floor crying. She grimaces at the sight of her bloody, swollen nose, Camile's wand moves faster and the other two girls are turned into little Chihuahuas with alarming ease.

I didn't know she was so good.

He sees her impressed, this one seems bored.

“You know not all Hufflepuffs are so patient” she admits with a shrug.

He goes to say something, but a teacher comes over to scold Camile, which seems not to be the first time he has done something like that.

They end up at the address.

He wasn't to blame, but he's still an eyewitness.

                                                       ♦♦♦

He can't help but be curious, Snape is kind and explains what he knows. Camile Marsell is a half Spanish and half French witch. It seems that her mother was from a fairly powerful lineage in the French country from one of the highest pure-blooded families, but she fell in love with a Muggle. She gave up everything she had to follow a Spanish man (who loved music) and Camile was born out of that relationship. The laughing girl had great potential for magic, but seemed a little confused like Harry at first.

half Blood.

The word collides in her mind.

Something that her father abhorred, over his pure-blooded supremacy.

Wizarding like Harry or Camile were not entirely unpleasant, Hermione was certainly a genius at magic.

There was nothing wrong with them.

Her father was wrong.

“You don't have to defend me," he snarls at Camile when Dumbledore gives him a scolding.

She smiles, ignoring his words.

“Friends help each other," she says, smiling.

He wants to ask her how long they've been friends, but he's tired and prefers to go to bed early.

                                                        ♦♦♦

He applauds Harry when he manages to survive a fight with the dragon, which finally manages to calm the friendship between Harry and Ron, to the relief of him and Hermione. But soon the idea of a ball of the chosen ones, comes to stay in his group of friends and the whole school actually. He is about to say that he does not intend to go, but his friends end up dragging him along before he can refuse. He watches with amusement as Hermione accepts that someone has invited her and Ron seems incredulous as if he is indignant. He doesn't say anything about seeing Victor, a professional player, invite Hermione the other day.

Laughs when Ginny admits defeat in accepting Neville's invitation, almost dying of not being able to help Harry.

Harry who is rejected by Cho.

His friends are involved in many romantic dramas.

“Who will you go with?” asks Ron one day with suspicion in the middle of the great hall.

A memory of the last week comes to his mind, not that he thought about looking for a partner, but since he is going to the ball, he thinks that going alone would be pathetic, for a moment he thinks about inviting Luna, but he regrets it immediately. She may be Ginny's best friend, but she doesn't think she can be with her, without the intervention of the redhead for a long time. Hermione is clearly not available, so he thinks of the only girl besides them with whom he has contact.

One of those afternoons he walks to the library, where he sees Camile concentrating, or rather, not concentrating on the study but on making magical circles in the air.

He wants to run, but reluctantly walks to her.

“Do you want to go to the ball with me?” she asks when he takes a seat next to her.

He does not know if he has read her mind or she is really looking for a pair.

He shrugs her shoulders.

She smiles as always.

He doesn't tell Ron what really happened.

“I'm going with Camile, she's a Hufflepuff we studied with” he admits without telling the truth.

Draco has a pride to bear.

He sees Ron's completely betrayed face; Harry seems to laugh vaguely at the misfortune.

                                                        ♦♦♦

The ball is not as bad as he thinks, Ron and Harry seem completely unhappy at some point, but Hermione really looks like fun, he has run into Ginny who greets him cheerfully several times, giving him funny looks every time Camile forces him to dance. Camile is strange, in a way he doesn't understand, she always seems to smile and has a lot of energy. Her father would be horrified that he considers her a friend and inwardly rejoices and hopes that he will ever find out, only to see her face horrified.

The memories of the cruciatus make him shiver, making Camile curious.

“You look like a boy with secrets” she says amusingly when they finish a dance and have a drink.

He ignores her by shrugging his shoulders.

Out of the corner of her eye, he sees Ron lose his dance partner for giving Hermione a dirty look, Draco feels the family's bet in her pocket.

“I like boys with secrets," adds Camile, making him spit out a little of his drink and look incredulous.

She lets out a loud laugh before forcing him to dance to a song, which he doesn't know like the others, making him look, probably, ridiculous.

But she smiles so big that she forces herself to be there.

When the dance is over, Ginny catches him from behind before whispering to him to accompany Camile to her door. He thinks it's ridiculous, but as long as the girl doesn't see him with big eyes, he accepts. Camile doesn't seem to mind when they walk together in comfortable silence.

She is finally tired of talking, he thinks briefly funny.

Everything in his mind seems to die when a pressure on his lips makes him freeze, it lasts a few seconds, but when he separates, he sees Camile as a fish out of water. He has never kissed a girl, he is ashamed to admit it, especially because in his first kiss, he was not initiated by him. Male pride on the floor. He sees the spark of fun in the girl's eyes.

Who has a beautiful green dress, his long hair in a hairstyle that only a girl could do and light makeup.

She is pretty.

Admits reluctantly, not bad for a first kiss.

He takes her behind the head and now it is him who kisses her, to recover a little of his pride, he would never admit in a million years that it is because he has liked the first one.

They kiss a little more.

When Draco lies down on her bed, a satisfied smile fills her face.

                                                      ♦♦♦

Everything seems to be in chaos when Credic dies, he feels fear and terror for what it means. Even when no one seems to want to believe Harry, he believes him, because his father for years talked about the awakening of the dark lord and now, they are living it. He is afraid, he is horrified and in his fifth year, he understands that nothing good can come of this. The holiday in the burrow seems like a distant dream, which he now wishes to recover. Harry's visions clearly do not help at all and everything seems to be a whirlpool of desolation.

“So much for a quiet year” confesses Ginny one afternoon that they are together in the corridors.

Above all, with Dolores Umbridge hovering around.

Annoying and toad-faced.

Touching his hand briefly with bandages, having supported Harry was not such a good idea when they both shared the punishment, but he was her friend.

“Well at least someone is doing well with the plan to outdo Harry Potter”- he comments amusingly before pushing her playfully.

This one sees him incredulous, before wanting to put a spell on him.

“You haven't told me more about Camile after I saw them kissing” says Ginny in a funny way.

She had caught them that Yule ball, but had the decency not to say it out loud and only to harass him when he was alone.

Kind, he assumed.

Or blackmailing.

“We didn't talk much” he admitted something uncomfortable.

They have greeted each other in the corridors, studied with everyone, but nothing has happened between them. It's as if the ball was just a fleeting dream one night and it bothers him to admit that it irritates him more than he wants to admit.

“Who would say, both suffering from unrequited love.”

“At least I kissed her.”

Ginny's bat mucus appears so quickly and painfully, that he can only shake his hands feeling that he is drowning.

But the satisfaction remains within he of winning a verbal fight.

                                                      ♦♦♦

Draco looks uncomfortably, as clearly the students of the house Slytherin have a clear preferential treatment for the toad face. He sees them as annoying when they keep making fun of him, but more than annoying, inside he feels uncomfortable. He has dreams where he sees himself in the house of the snakes and that makes him sleep uneasy, he does not like what he sees, that Draco that bothers others (as they do with his person) and that intimidates his current friends. He is afraid to say that to them, since he is a person that he does not like.

It is like hating a part of himself.

Because he knows, if he had stayed at Slytherin's house, he would have done it.

He was so fooled by the man who is his father, so full of resentment towards those who are not pure blood.

Most of the wizarding society is not pure blood.

Idiot.

“Draco?” calls Harry when they go to their private of forbidden classes on defence against the dark arts.

All because of his current teacher.

He sucked.

“I was thinking” he muses quietly, making Harry raise an eyebrow to see him confused, but he doesn't dare say his thoughts, maybe he shouldn't have been a Gryffindor as he was a coward “don't look at me like that, at least my date didn't cry all afternoon” he adds in a mocking tone.

Harry groans clearly ashamed and feels a little satisfaction at seeing him suffer for normal things.

Draco stops uncomfortably when in the middle of the room when he sees how Camile seems to have convinced Hannah to join "Dumbledore's army", all thanks to Ginny, he doesn't know whether to kill his pseudo little sister or thank her.

Harry sees him confused, Draco is grateful that he is an idiot in those matters, he had enough tragedy with Hermione and Ginny, besides Neville.

“Potter” starts Camile by his side humming funny and giving him a curious look, which he ignores as best he can.

“Camile, I'm glad you and Hannah could come, the more people the better” Harry spoke shyly, but glad to see her.

He whimpered when he admitted that, although they were not friends, Camile used to have casual conversations with the boy, especially about Quidditch.

The girl smiled too much, for his taste.

“There are cute boys to see around here, of course I'd come," she says honestly and without any apparent shame.

Harry is shocked, she turns to him and gives him a flirty wink before leaving. It's thanks to that that Harry turns to see he with an incredulous mouth, he prefers to leave quickly next to someone else, trying not to let the red of his cheeks be so noticeable.

                                                       ♦♦♦

He looks incredulously at Hermione and Ginny sitting in front of him, both ranting about men, almost ignoring him at the time. He sighs thinking about how he agreed to study with them, turns his face to the window, almost wishing he could be out with Harry and Ron, but he had made a decision, he regretted it, clearly, but he is not one to go back on his word. In his suitcase in his room, a letter from his mother asking him to stay away from any trouble indicated that, soon, there would be trouble.

Not just the attempt on Arthur's life.

He felt uncomfortable, like a bad feeling.

A blow to the forehead made him his before he saw Ginny badly who let out a funny laugh.

“In the Malfoy clouds?” her asked amusingly, moving his eyebrows amusingly.

“Mind your own business Weasley," he grunts back equally amused.

Hermione rolls her eyes, exchanges a funny look with Ginny, both knowing the girl's problem with Ron.

He admits, only to himself and probably to Ginny (who in some way he doesn't understand is his best friend) that he might, in some younger way, have had feelings for Hermione. Not only were they competing all the time, the girl was growing up and she was cute, of course adding that would have bothered his father, made everything very attractive. But when he became friends with them, it only took a second to see the interaction between Ron and Hermione to know that he didn't want to get into anything romantic between them.

The image of a long-haired, funny-smiling Hufflepuff girl momentarily surrounded his head.

“Hermione what you occupy is giving my brother a kiss (which is disgusting) and touching his buttock to make you happy” says Ginny shamelessly.

It takes no more than that comment for Draco to grab her by the neck and start running around the common room, with a red Hermione of shame as well as anger.

They end up on the floor laughing and their task forgotten.

Amidst the laughter, Draco cannot help but think that both of them and the rest of his friends they were a family that occupied.

                                                      ♦♦♦

Draco loves his friends, although he must admit that being friends with Harry Potter has put him on the brink of death, many more times than he likes to admit. The idea of going to the magic ministry is stupid, he tries to convince him before doing such a stupid thing, but, although he doesn't succeed, he ends up accompanying them. It is when everything seems to be in chaos, when they find out that Sirus is alive, that the order is safe (secret that they trust him for being a kind of honorary Weasley) and the crazy Bellatrix who is somehow distant relative, pursues them both to Sirus and to him to kill them.

All the people with whom he shares blood are crazy, they decide in the end.

Sirus at first had this uncertainty about himself too, until he told he that he was in Gryffindor and seemed happy that he was not the only black sheep in the Black family.

He was not a Black.

Although his mother was.

Everything was confusing.

Although he admitted to being a fairly competent duelist, Bellatrix was crazy (there was nothing positive to say in that situation) and as little as he avoided that dark spell. Whimpered when her hand began to bleed, proving that it was not by chance.

“Lucius no doubt raised a useless” he snarled that woman with a dismissive tone.

He saw her rolling her eyes.

Unbelieving buffoon.

“You're crazy, demented and no doubt I'd rather spend my life with blood traitors than a lady who's a whore behind Voldemort” he shouted the first offensive words he came up with.

The Cruciatus was not long in coming.

How many times can a person endure so much pain?

From his blood family, for worse.

Whimpering when he fell backwards, before Sirus started a battle against her, but they were walking too close to the veil. Sirus, like Harry, had a strange suicidal tendency, he decided when even trembling, he should throw himself with Sirus to avoid a curse from Bellatrix so that he wouldn't fall in the middle of the veil.

He feels every bone in his body ache.

But he's alive, she surmises with irony.

“That bitch is crazy” murmurs before Sirus brings him by the neck so that both of them manage to dodge another attack.

“Boy!” calls Sirus over him, but his vision begins to blur, before he bites his lips and stands up shaking.

They must fight.

Stupid Potter thinks with irony, before following Sirus and Bellatrix's duel with barely open eyes, with a nimble spell he makes Bellatrix fall backwards, before feeling an attack from his back. Bites her teeth as she feels pain all over her body again.

This time he is knocked unconscious.

                                                      ♦♦♦

When he opens his eyes again, a room he detects from St. Mungo’s receives him, and he is measured to get into his bed, feeling pain all over his body. He looks at his bandaged hands and feels pain in his back, but he is alive. Memories of the battle in the ministry haunt his mind and he cannot help but feel terrified. A war, they had not been many and he hardly thinks if they survive, but that only seemed a prelude, a prelude to imminent war. A sound distracts him and he is paralyzed when the curtain that separates his bed is opened and Molly Weasley appears on the other side, this incredulous whimpering wakes him up and wraps him in a hug.

He can't help but wonder when his real mother hugged him for the last time.

He also can't believe how stupid Ron is, to be jealous of Harry or him, when he has a family like this one.

“I'm glad you're awake, honey," she says with sincerity and tears in her eyes.

He doesn't move, not believing that anyone else is crying for him.

He smiles slightly, before everything turns to chaos in his room.

Ignoring the visit of all the Weasleys, including Sirus (he doesn't quite understand what has happened to set him free), Harry and Hermione, Ginny is the one who tells him the story. He had received several unforgivable curses, a cruciatus and another that has left a scar on her back, which like her hand, cannot be healed. He was unconscious for two weeks.

Ginny seems worried about himself, just as her mother cries when she sees him, Hermione hugs him in a protective way and cannot help feeling at home.

“YOU ARE ALIVE!” both twins shout with emotion, before shaking their hair.

He feels pain all over his body.

His head does not stop hammering.

He wants to sleep.

But he wouldn't change for anyone in the world.

                                                            ♦♦♦

Snape never treats him badly, even though since he left his father they have hardly had any cordial contact, but that does not mean that he is any less concerned when he obtains the role of professor of defence against the dark arts in his sixth year. Harry, who has always hated his godfather, doesn't seem too thrilled about the affair either, because although Sirus is declared innocent, he doesn't have the power to uphold it or something stupid said Dumbledore. He tries to remind him that he will soon come of age, but Harry can be stubborn and prefers to ignore him.

The fact that Ginny spends all her time with her boyfriend also seems to put him in a bad mood.

Her four best friends are in love, but not together.

Bad luck.

He and Neville seem to jump between the two of them, trying to keep the issues from getting too sensitive.

“Dean is a pain in the ass, he's cute, but I can do things on my own” complains Ginny in the common room with an annoyed grimace.

He ignores her for reading his book.

Dean's subject is a sensitive one for both of them, not only does the boy seem to hate him since his first year, they also share the same room and he seems to hate him because Ginny declared that he is her best friend. Although he repeats a thousand times that he has no romantic feelings for the girl, her boyfriend always seems to see him out of the corner of his eye as a potential enemy.

Pathetic.

“You're only with him because you're with someone," he says before turning the page in the book on oclumacy.

Even though Snape doesn't treat him like he used to, he has given him that book in his fourth year, so he tries to study it. Sometimes after school in his fifth year, he would instruct him, he almost had the trick of doing it without difficulty.

He worried about why her godfather gave her that.

“Dean is cute and kisses well, but I like my space, yesterday I reproach myself because I spend a lot of time with you” she grumpy is carelessly settling in his lap.

He rolled his eyes.

“Because of things like this he is upset," he says without taking his eyes off the book or making her feel uncomfortable.

He's used to it, as a child Ginny was very loving and he was clearly a carrion for his family. Like a sister she never had, Ginny began to follow him when her brothers ignored her, laughing and telling her things, which he did not ignore for a fact.

She was the first one to speak to him.

The one who took him to the Weasley house.

She was family.

He owed her a lot.

Besides, her lively and cheerful personality, helped him when he was not feeling well. Because he had the fake family of now, sometimes he remembered that his parents had given up on him, that they were on the side of the dark lord and the scars on his body were witness to the fact that both had taken different paths.

“It's stupid, Harry and Ron found me last night making out with Dean and took on the role of big brother, they should be like you.”

“You know I'd protect your dignity too, but you'd throw a bat booger at me and not take my help.”

“Exactly, thank you for noticing.”

He sees her thinking it was no joke and she with her head in her lap puts on an innocent smile, making both of them laugh slightly. Distracted he puts a hand on Ginny's head and starts to massage her hair, she makes a sound that reminds him of a cat and thinks she is a brat.

“I feel offended that that book is more important than your best friend.”

“This book would beat you at anything.”

A whimper comes out of his mouth when it punches him in the face, with force the lance of his lap and this wheel on the ground. Both of them burst out laughing when she throws herself at him, in his lap, and seems to want to hang him, but he hardly resists.

A sound of annoyance distracts them, causing them to turn to their right where Ron and Harry are standing.

Draco reacts a second later, with Ginny on his legs too close to his body and face.

His forehead is shaded in blue.

“Now you're going out with Draco too," says Ron in an accusatory tone.

Bad idea.

Faster than a flash, Ginny casts a spell on him that throws him on his back. She seems to want to go and kill him, but not in play as with him, so he holds her by the waist preventing her from committing a murder.

“Draco is my best friend asshole, now I'll kill you” she says this in a sadistic tone.

He decides he prefers to be on the girl's good side, so he lets her go and it's Hermione who finally manages to stop her from committing murder. The worst thing decides Draco, is the look of complete hatred of Harry, who does not know when or how, it seems that finally he has feelings for Ginny.

He snorts underneath when Hermione yells at Ron that he is a fool and drags him into the library.

Now Ron sees him angry too.

He whines.

He doesn't do anything.

                                                         ♦♦♦

He decides for his own mental (and physical) sake to stay away from his friends, until they solve their love problems with each other, he doesn't want to get caught in the crossfire. Therefore, in his free time, he prefers to be out reading some book, sometimes thinking that he could have stayed in Ravenclaw, although he still doesn't manage to beat Hermione in notes. New Year's resolution decides. It is an afternoon in the middle of a bench, when a shadow appears in front of him. He tries not to look surprised when he sees Camile in front of him with her usual friendly smile.

He's ignoring him as usual; she takes a seat next to him and starts to move his feet.

He gets tense.

He forgets that not only his friends have these romantic problems. The girl next to him kisses him in his fourth year at the yule ball, but after that she ignores him, sometimes she talks to him as if nothing happened and he is clearly confused.

Not only are Harry and Ron bad with girls.

He is too.

Shit.

He would never admit it out loud.

“You look at me with bulging eyes, it's funny” she says she's pointing at him shamelessly; she blushes and this one laughs “I'm not going to do anything to you that you don't want to” she adds with a flirty wink.

That bothers him too, those shameless flirtations, make him feel uncomfortable.

He looks at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing that her long hair is now a little more controlled and longer than before, that her face is starting to stop looking like a girl's and her body is becoming very beautiful. He hates the hormones inside him and that this girl is by his side.

Just like Ginny and Hermione this one seems to be at ease next to her.

But it is not the same.

Is different and he doesn't understand how.

“Of course,” he says in a boring way trying to control himself, this one sees him as a bit annoying.

“You know for a guy, you're not very good with girls," she says, as if reading her thoughts.

Draco blushes before seeing her with disbelief, curiously this seems to be serious as she almost never shows it because she is smiling.

“That's rude” grunts before returning to her book.

This snort.

“Rude is kissing a girl and never bringing it up” she points out with clear annoyance.

His blushing increases and he sees her angry, as she seems to take it easy and he is a sea of nerves at this moment.

“You kissed me first.”

“And then you.”

“You acted as if nothing had happened.”

“I'm a Draco girl, we like to see an interest in a boy and not do all the work.”

Both are upset and look angry, he does not understand what she wants and she seems to want to claim something from him. The girls are annoying, he decides in the middle of something that he does not understand, only it seems that she expected him to look for it and it is ridiculous because he.

Because he...

He looks away, ready to get up.

“You are a nuisance” mumble without knowing what else to say.

He had enough family problems to add this girl to his life, his friends are now in danger and he doesn't know how long before everything goes to shit. It takes studying, it takes being a better wizard to help them when the time comes.

He should go.

But when he sees the girl sideways, still sitting, almost looking downcast and with sore eyes, he curses himself internally.

Only once.

He says to himself when he sits down again. Camile opens her eyes in disbelief when now it's him who initiates the kiss, because just like Ginny's eyes, but in another way, he doesn't understand, and doesn't care, he can't see his sad eyes.

He is not a scum.

He is not her father.

They separate and he is embarrassed but internally happy to feel his pride back for initiating the kiss. She smiles in a way he has never seen before, softer and more sincere, which also reaches his brown eyes, which he now notices have flashes of other colours.

It is beautiful.

“You're annoying too," says this one with a slightly broken but funny voice.

Then, ignoring his previous thought, he kisses her again.

Shit.

                                                          ♦♦♦

“Draco has a girlfriend and won't die a virgin” celebrates Ginny in the common room, making him snarl in annoyance and Hermione laughing by his side.

Neville has a funny smile at his side, which he wants to smash with one punch.

He was still a virgin.

But he wasn't going to make that clear out loud.

Ginny continues to hug him excited, saying that Camile was a sun for putting up with him, that he should not ruin him. Hermione commented on everything he had to do to be a good boyfriend, Neville seemed just as tortured as he was.

“At least now Harry and Ron will no longer see me as competition” he muses, making Neville nod in agreement.

Hermione and Ginny look confused.

He snorts.

Who's the blind man now?

Who would have thought that, of the group of friends, he is the first to get a steady girlfriend.

                                                        ♦♦♦

Many things are happening before his eyes, war seems closer and closer and Dumbledore's death is the trigger. When the great wizard dies, he feels that, within him, the world is lost, when a powerful wizard could not help it, they definitely could not do anything. At the funeral he is sitting there with a lost look in his eyes, he wants to think that he has nothing to do with this place, but he knows what happens to his father and mother, the bad guys of history and how this war was getting closer and closer to breaking out.

He sees the sky in confusion.

Was this his destiny?

When the hat chose him at Gryffindor.

What was he thinking?

“Everything will change," muses Neville sitting next to him and he nods his head.

He sees his hand for a few seconds, feeling a little pain in the scar on it as in his back. He grinds his teeth knowing that somehow that hat decided his fate.

'A butterfly effects.'

Arthur called once.

On the way to where Harry was with Ron and Hermione, the three of them had made a choice and given him the opportunity to choose. When he arrived at them, his three friends saw him with big eyes with questions, they had given him a choice because they knew the situation of his biological family,

“I'm in” admits in a serious voice.

Hermione nods.

Ron sighs.

Harry looks at him with gratitude.

They are friends.

While they go off, the rest go to look after Hogwarts. He looks sideways at where Ginny is next to Neville, Luna, Hannah and Camile. Her best friend smiled slightly, knowing that this would also be a battleground next year.

Camile gives him a slight smile.

A part of him, decided, was an idiot for not talking to her before and taking advantage of the time a little more. By her side, he had been very warm and different, a different good in his life that he thought he wouldn't have. But now is not the time to back out.

                                                         ♦♦♦

The search took a long time, both good and bad experiences passed. Since Ron left them, he felt lost at the thought of his parents behind all this, struggles and losses. When they arrive at the castle after a whole year away in the middle of death (which he jokes about all the time with Harry telling him that he is unlucky) and ready to start a war, he feels confused. In the middle of the fight where he attacks and protects, he wonders what would have happened if his life had been different, as in his dreams.

Maybe he would be on the other side of the battle and that destroys him.

Why the other side is wrong.

Voldemort is wrong.

That is why when the Selector Hat appears, almost at the same time as Voldemort's snake, when Harry's body appears. For the first time he understands why he is in Gryffindor, when the sword of his creator is held in his hand to kill the snake.

Ignoring his number of wounds.

Ignoring that his parents behind Voldemort see him in disbelief.

He makes his choice at that moment, it is not like before that he only accepts the fate that others chose for him, no, he decides his path and the sword shines in his hands. Voldemort seems angry with himself, but he couldn't care less.

He is not afraid of him.

Not after all he's been through.

And then Harry seems to come back from the dead.

Before he knows it the battle is over, but he doesn't feel well, he is tired, a heart-rending cry from someone, is also the sign of a series of dead to be picked up.

                                                       ♦♦♦

That night he walks to his old bedroom, which is somewhat destroyed but stable. He throws himself on his bed, followed by Ron and Harry on theirs. Hermione ignores that it's not the girls' bed and remembers one that must have been Neville's, the four of them are exhausted, the battle has been over for a few hours, but there are many dead, much pain and much blood. He feels too tired to talk or say anything, he just wants to sleep all night, but he feels that he will have nightmares.

“I'm exhausted” says Hermione with her arms stretched out.

The thought of her bewitching her parents and sending them to Australia runs through her mind, they will have to go and get them soon, they had decided in the middle of their journey in moments of stress.

Where they were thinking about the end of the war.

Where they were optimistic.

“I'm hungry” mumbles Ron against the pillow.

Everyone laughs slightly.

“By the way, Potter, technically Ron made Hermione kiss him, so you owe me money," he says, sitting on his bed.

Harry laughs when Ron and Hermione turn red.

"Hermione kissed him so you owe me money” counter this scathing, but funny-looking one.

Maybe.

It has a point.

“You made me lose money Weasley, you owe me” he grunts at he with feigned annoyance and this one throws a pillow at he face.

The four of them laugh like kids and he throws himself back on the bed with a peaceful smile. But his smile fades slightly as he remembers the number of dead, especially that of one of the twins who hurts him to the core. A selfish part of her inner self has been happy to see Camile among the survivors, she herself had a terrible wound on her leg from a werewolf, but she only laughed saying that it was not that serious.

They would have to wait until the next new moon.

But she was alive.

That comforts him.

“Hey Draco", says Harry out of the blue, turns to see him confused and he smiles at him “I'm glad you're my friend” he talks a bit corny, but he understands.

Friendship is important.

It reminds him of how Sirus talks about his friendship with Harry's father and with Lupin.

“Don't get cheesy Potter, I have a girlfriend unlike a guy who got brave and left her” he comments funny and this one whines indignantly.

A move at his side, makes him see Hermione sitting next to him.

“I'm also glad you're my friend Draco, if I had a brother I'd be like you and Harry.”

“Yes, because if I were Ron I'd be incest.”

A pillow from Ron makes him laugh when he just pats his head, but he high-fives himself.

The four of them laugh, before the four of them end up in their bed, in a knot of hands and legs, sleeping together. Draco at that moment thinks about what his life could have been different, if he had been selected in another house, but when he feels Harry's elbow, when Ron snores or when Hermione babbles by his side.

He knows.

He wouldn't trade it for anything, this feeling of being filled.

And he hoped that, in a few years, everything would be just like this moment, the four friends.

The house of Gryffindor.

His house.

[brasskier]

@badthingshappenbingo​ trope #2 (finally!)

Trope: Enemy turned caretaker

Summary: When Jaskier, home sick from classes, hears a knock at his door, he certainly doesn't expect to find his arch nemesis/rival trombone player on the other side. (Or, a shameless excuse for marxskier cuddles no one asked for.)

Read it on my ao3 or below the cut:

A knock at his door jarred Jaskier out of his dreamless sleep, and he rolled onto his stomach, pressing his face against the pillow. It was a single knock, polite and undemanding, and Jaskier decided whatever campus nonsense it was could wait until he wasn't dying.

The knock came again, the slightest bit more urgent, and he had to fight back the urge to groan, wary of confirming his dorm's occupancy to whoever was outside. Then a third time, and he hazily wondered if his absolute boneheaded idiot of a roommate could've forgotten his key. He pushed himself up on trembling arms, head swimming with the change in altitude, and a fourth rap rattled through his skull.

That couldn't be it. Geralt had gone home early for the weekend - lucky bastard with no Friday classes. At knock number five, he allowed himself the slight comfort of a quiet groan buried into his hands. Blanket draped over his shoulders like a cape and sweeping the worn carpet of his room, he dragged himself unsteadily to the door. A sixth knock was underway as he unceremoniously nudged the door open, nearly toppling over himself as a hand reached around and swung it the rest of the way open.

"You look disgusting," the hand's owner leered, and Jaskier gave his best scowl as he regained his composure. Valdo fucking Marx, the only other sophomore jazz trombone major and Jaskier's sworn mortal enemy.

"Thanks," he muttered once he'd recaptured control of his breath, arms folded petulantly across his chest. "You always knew just how to flatter a man."

"What can I say? I aim to please," he snarked back, taking a step forward, and-- oh, fuck, why was he entering his dorm? Jaskier contemplated fighting him, but at the moment he didn't have half enough energy to deal with that.

"Sure you do." Maybe if he just went back to sleep Valdo would get bored and fuck off, so that's exactly what he decided to do, trudging back to his bed and flopping onto the sheets with a huff.

"Your dumb jock's not around to clean up after you?" Valdo's voice continued, and Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut in a vague attempt to will him away.

"Left for the weekend," he grumbled back. "He has a name, you know." Valdo laughed, that obnoxious prep school laugh of his.

"Don't be daft, of course I know. Geralt Rivia, star quarterback of the Oxenfurt Wolves, blah blah blah." Jaskier was vaguely aware of the sound of rummaging somewhere behind him, and he fought the urge to look, resting in uneasy silence.

"Why are you here?" He asked finally when he couldn't take it any longer.

"You weren't at rehearsal today," Valdo replied simply, as if that singular statement explained anything at all. Jaskier snorted into his pillow.

"What, you missed me? Steal any solos from under my nose?" The rummaging stopped, and Jaskier could hear shoes being kicked off - that absolute bastard, just making himself at home, and while he was utterly defenseless no less.

"Wanted to make sure you didn't waste away and die," Valdo bit back. "And no, we each still have three solos." Ah, yes, the compromise - six solos total, two improv and a jazz ballad each - the only thing standing between the two of them strangling each other. Perhaps Jaskier was losing his mind, but something warm he couldn't quite put his finger on sprouted in his chest, somewhere along the line of exasperated fondness. "Don't think I didn't try, though."

"How sweet," he huffed, tugging the blanket further up to his chin. "Sorry to disappoint, but I assure you, I'll live. It's just a migraine." To Jaskier's absolute horror, he felt the bed dip beneath him and a palm come to rest against his cheek. If only he had the strength (physically or emotionally) to pull away.

"Just a migraine my ass," Valdo scoffed, withdrawing his hand and rising from the bed again. "You're burning up, you dumb fuck." More rummaging, and this time Jaskier couldn't resist prying his head from the pillow and glancing up. He was buried in his backpack, and Jaskier only now took note of the trombone case resting by the door - an immaculately kept custom case, itself worth more than Jaskier's actual instrument. Valdo had come straight from rehearsal, it dawned on him, and that warmth returned, flushing his cheeks. "Don't know how you've survived this long, can't even take care of yourself."

"So maybe it's a bit worse." He tried to shrug, finding it mostly impossible from his position draped over the bed. "I'm fine. Just need to sleep it off." Valdo chuckled to himself, withdrawing whatever he was looking for and returning to Jaskier's side. He recoiled a bit, on instinct, and sheepishly hoped Valdo didn't notice.

"Here." Something thumped against Jaskier's side before dropping to the bed, and after blindly fumbling for it he found it was a bottle of ibuprofen. He turned it over uncertainly between his thumb and forefinger, wondering idly if Valdo was above poisoning him or not. "Do you have anything to drink in this shithole-- other than beer?" He rolled his eyes - an effort that made him far dizzier than it had any right to.

"Brita," he bit out, jerking his thumb towards the bathroom door, and Valdo disappeared before returning with the pitcher and a glass, shoving aside clutter to place them on the bedside table. Jaskier accepted the glass silently, swallowing the pills and sipping cautiously.

"Isn't that better?" Valdo gently scooted him to the side - an act Jaskier was horrified to realize was rather easy for his nemesis - and came to rest on the edge of his bed.

"I guess so." He yawned, hand held limply over his mouth, and appraised Valdo suspiciously. "Why are you doing all this?"

"Can't have you die on me." Valdo reached out a hand, traced the edge of his face gently. Jaskier's grasp on wakefulness was beginning to slip, but it almost sounded like the boy cared. "Jazz ensemble's no fun without competition, no matter how inferior that rival might be."

"Thanks, really," Jaskier mumbled, slipping further down onto the bed. He felt the bed shift again, and against all better judgement jutted an arm out blindly, coming to clasp around Valdo's wrist. "Stay?" Valdo let out a huff, and then a beleaguered sigh.

"Fine. Move." Jaskier obeyed, shimmying to the far edge of the bed, eyes lighting up as Valdo crawled in beside him. "You're lucky I don't have anymore classes tonight." Jaskier draped an arm over his stomach, pressing his face into the crook of Valdo's neck. He smelt like pine and slide grease and the familiar metallic tang of brass. "And so help me god, if you get me sick, and right before juries, I swear I'll--"

"Shut up and hold me," Jaskier muttered languidly, tugging Valdo's arm across his shoulder. His classmate (mortal enemy? Friend? Occasional lover?) obliged, hesitantly rubbing his back. He hummed a tune from their repertoire that semester - Blue Rondo A La Turk, Jaskier's favorite - until Jaskier finally slipped back to sleep.

Another knock at his door once again jarred Jaskier out of his slumber, this one far more demanding and impatient. By the time he managed to push himself up against the headboard and rub the sleep from his eyes, Valdo was already at the door, and he felt childishly relieved to find him still present.

"Who was that? My RA?" He asked drowsily as Valdo returned, sliding back onto the bed and earning a sigh of relief from Jaskier

"No," he laughed. "Your idiot roommate forgot his key." Jaskier groaned into his pillow before latching back onto Valdo like a spider monkey.

"Talk to me," he mumbled after a few minutes of struggling to fall back asleep. Valdo raised an eyebrow at him.

"About what?" Jaskier snorted; since when did Valdo need prompting to run his mouth?

"You never shut up about yourself, so you could start there," he chuckled. Valdo grinned, launching into some obscenely exaggerated tale from his time as drum major at Cidaris Prep. Usually, Jaskier would've teased and prodded him for it - don't you think it's time to stop reliving your high school glory days? - but instead, he let his unfettered reminiscing lull him.

He knew he was going to get an earful from Geralt (and probably Geralt's girlfriend and frat brothers, too) regarding the fact that his sworn nemesis answered the door. But he'd cross that bridge when he got to it. For now, he was cozy and content, and that was all he cared about. Maybe Valdo wasn't so bad, after all.

[monstaxperiments]

Monsta X reaction to being jealous of your male friend (pt. 1)..~

Jooheon:

..~ Your bff, Mike has been working his ass off at his new job and finally has a Saturday off. You and Mike have been bffs since high school and even dated a short while but decided it would be best to just be friends. To catch up, he suggests hanging out, but it was also you and your bf Jooheon’s date night, so you decide to spend the day with both of your favorite guys. Jooheon was reluctant to let Mike tag along on your date but knows how close you two have been and he just wants to see you happy. He regrets his decision as soon as Mike walks up the theater steps and sees you practically sprinting to give him a huge hug. A hug that Jooheon felt took a little longer than needed. He says hello and gives Mike the fakest smile he could muster and follows behind the two of you into the theater lobby. Why am I following behind them? I’m y/n’s boyfriend not this guy Jooheon thinks to himself as he not so subtly squeezes in between you and Mike. You and Mike give him an odd look but brushes it off. “Oh, don’t worry about it, I got this,” Mike says as he pulls out his wallet “I feel like the third wheel anyway so I’ll pay for everyone’s ticket. Also just to say thanks Jooheon for letting me tag along. Not a lot of boyfriends would do that.” Mike gives Jooheon a friendly smile. “Yeah no problem.”Jooheon says with that fake smile of his. “Yeah you are third wheel.” Jooheon mumbles under his breathe just as Mike turns away to pay for the tickets. The three of you walk toward the concession stand next. “What do you guys want? I’m buying.” Mike says taking out a wad of cash. Jooheon rolls his eyes so hard he could’ve sworn he saw his brain. “Wow Mike! You’re really getting paid at your new job!” You say in a super impressed tone. A tone that Jooheon couldn’t help but feel inferior to. “Well, you know.” Mike says with a nonchalant shrug “Pretty soon you’ll be hanging out with a rich man” He smiles down at you, nudges you playfully. “Rich men get all the pretty girls.” Mike says this last sentence while looking over his shoulder at Jooheon with a sinister smirk. Jooheon stands there dumbfounded, unable to speak. You make your choices and Mike steps forward to pay for it “No I got it!” Jooheon says while squeezing in between you two again causing Mike to stumble back almost falling to the ground. “Jooheon! Stop being so so rude!” You say. “I’m not being rude, y/n. You’re my girlfriend I should be the one taking care of you.” Jooheon says while smiling at the clerk, handing them the cash. You three finally make it into the movie theater, with you in the middle. Jooheon rolls his eyes as he sees you and Mike chit chatting and giggling and sitting closely while waiting for the movie to start. Now he felt like the third wheel. 

The movie is about 30 minutes in and Jooheon finally felt at peace. You and Mike weren’t talking or giggling about the old days. Jooheon looks over at you to make sure you were enjoying the movie when he sees Mike’s arm over your seat. That sent Jooheon into a rage. “Ok I’ve had enough!” Jooheon yells as he stands up from his seat. A few people shush him and others turn around to see whats going on but Jooheon doesn’t care. He swats Mike arm away from you and gently pulls you up from your seat. “Since you got here you’ve been trying to steal y/n away from me but it stops right now. Don’t ever contact y/n again. And I better not see your face ever again.” He takes your hand and drags you out of the theater. 

Back in the car headed home ~ “I’m sorry y/n. I know you were really excited for that movie. I’ll take you to go see it again another time but I had to get you away from that guy.” He hears a sigh of relief from you. “I’m so glad you did. He was giving off weird vibes all night. And besides seeing you all jealous and possessive like that was a huge turn on.” You smirk at him. “Oh yeah? Well I must look unbelievably sexy right now because that guy really pissed me off.” “Yeah... I’m wondering if I should tell you he tried to grab my butt a few times.” Jooheon almost completely brakes on the highway, earning him a few car honks. “WHAT???” Jooheon is once again dumbfounded and threatens to turn the car around to kick some ass “Jooheon you can’t turn around on a one way street!”

I.M:

..~ “Ahahahahaha I win again y/n.” I.M says while sticking his tongue out at you like a little kid. This is the sixth round in a row you’ve lost to I.M while playing Mortal Kombat 11. You were starting to get annoyed but let him have his little victory. “I’m tired of this game. Can we play something else now?” You ask pouting and batting your eyes. “Sure. What game do you feel like losing next?” I.M chuckles to himself as he looks through the drawer full of games. Just then a notification pops up on the screen. ‘Handsomeguy90 is now online’. “Yay! Jesse is online!” I.M’s shoulder slump at the sound of that name. Jesse. Your bff from college. He currently lives about 10 hours away so I.M rarely had to see him, but he definitely hears his voice way too often. Another notification appears on the screen. ‘Handsomeguy90 is inviting you to play The Sims Online’. That was what you and Jesse liked to play together. An online game of avatars living everyday life and being able to text chat and voice chat with other players. Unfortunately for I.M, you two liked to voice chat. You grab the main controller from I.M’s lap and grab the headset that sat under the coffee table. You accept the invitation. “I guess were done?” I.M drops his hands into his lap with a sad expression. “Hey Jesse!” You say a little too excitedly. “Hey y/n! How are you? You sound so good!” I.M can hear Jesse’s voice through the headset which gave him a headache. He listens as you and Jesse make small talk before starting up the game. In this game you and Jesse’s avatars were married and had two kids with a third on the way. I.M hated when you played this game with Jesse. It made him feel like he wasn’t giving you what your heart truly wanted or you actually really wanted to be with Jesse. He watched with disgust as Jesse’s avatar continuously flirted with your avatar and also listened with disgust as Jesse said whatever his avatar said to your avatar. Things like you’re looking extra sexy today, that dress you’re wearing makes your butt look amazing, I love you so much, we were meant to be together, and so on. I.M couldn’t take it anymore. He got up to get a drink from the kitchen. As he returns he sees another avatar on the screen with the name I.M. The I.M in the game was an ugly old man with horrible traits and was the neighbor of you and Jesse. “What the fuck is that?” I.M asks in an annoyed tone. “Oh, Jesse thought it would be fun to include you in the game as sort of a comedy character. You’re our teched old neighbor who likes to spy on us and leave weird things in our mailbox and stuff like that. Isn’t that funny?” I.M just stares at you for a long moment. “Is he ok?” I.M could hear Jesse through the headset laughing. I.M swiftly lifts the headset from your ears. “Hey!” You exclaim in shock. “Goodbye Jesse.” I.M says into the headset and walks to the console and turns it off. “I.M what the hell?!” You say as you stand to turn it back on but I.M stands in your way. “Y/n I don’t want you playing that game with that guy ever again.” I.M says calmly. “You’re really that upset over a character in a game? It was just a stupid joke for the game.” You say crossing your arms. “I don’t care about the character, I care about the fact that you have this make believe life with a guy who obviously likes you says all this weird flirty stuff in your ear. That’s my job! I’m suppose to say weird flirty stuff in your ear.” You slowly uncross your arms listening to I.M. He was jealous. You felt bad for making him feel this way and being oblivious that you were doing it. You walk towards him and drape your arms around his waist. “I’m sorry baby you’re right only you can say weird flirty things to me.” I.M smiles and drapes his arms around your shoulders. “That’s right babe” he says kissing you on your forehead. 

Hyungwon:

..~ Hyungwon was asked to walk in a fashion show of a luxury brand. He got you a front row seat which made you super nervous. Only the elite sit front row at fashion shows, especially for luxury brands. Since Hyungwon was walking in the show, you two arrived early. While Hyungwon was backstage, you sat at the bar. You were sitting alone for a while until a handsome young man takes the seat next to you. He greets you with a hello and you greet him back. “What’s a pretty model doing here at the bar instead of getting ready backstage?” The man asks you after ordering a drink. You giggle and explain you’re not a model but your boyfriend is modeling in the show. “Oh what a shame to waste such a beautiful face and body to just have you sit in the crowd. How about you sit next to me then?” He says while sipping on his rather expensive looking drink. “I don’t think we can just change seats like that.” You say still a little flattered while sipping on your own drink. He smirks “I don’t think anyone would have a problem with it.” The two of you sit and chat for another hour until the show is about to start. While telling each other about yourselves, you learned that his name was Jason and that he was the son of the designer of the luxury brand and heir to the business. Hyungwon originally had you sitting on the left side at the end of the runway but now that you were sitting with Jason you were sitting on the right side dead in the middle. As you follow Jason you could feel the stares and hear the whispers of the elite around you. You notice the press turning their camera in your direction. You hear Jason chuckle. “They act like they’ve never seen a beautiful woman before. Tell your boyfriend to watch out, they might think we’re a couple y/n.” Jason flashes you a flirty smile. Suddenly the music changes, the outer lights dim, the inner lights start to flashes and swirl around each other, and the emcee comes on stage to start the show. You watch as the gorgeous and handsome models walk up and down the runway in awe. Soon you see a familiar face strutting down the runway. You let out a small shriek of excitement, you see Jason turn to you with curiosity, you smile and point at Hyungwon, “That’s my boyfriend.” Jason nods his head understandingly. You see Hyungwon’s eyes look in the direction of where he originally had you sitting. Oh shit where is she? She couldn’t find her seat? She didn’t get kicked out did she? Questions were racing through Hyungwon’s head and he started to get worried but he had to keep a straight face. Hyungwon gets to the end of the runway, strikes a pose and turns to walk back up the runway, but something catches his eye as he walks a few steps. He sees you waving your hands just at chest level. He was relieved to see you in crowd but he also notices another hand. On your shoulder. Belonging to the guy sitting next to you, smiling at him. In your excitement you hadn’t noticed that Jason’s arm found it’s way around your shoulder. Hyungwon was so shocked, confused, and distracted he almost walked right into the oncoming model going the opposite direction. A few gasps from the crowd were heard as Hyungwon quickly regains his composure and continues to walk backstage. You couldn’t help but feel bad for the sudden change, blaming yourself for distracting Hyungwon. Jason notices your state and comforts you, pulling you closer to him. I can’t believe the nerve of that guy Hyungwon thinks as he prepares for his final outfit. He had met Jason earlier that day and thought he was a decent guy. They bonded a little before the show, sharing things about their personal lives. Hyungwon even told him that his girlfriend was here at the show supporting him and that he felt bad that he had to leave her at the bar. That asshole. He better not let me catch him in the streets. Hyungwon finishes putting on his final outfit and waits behind the curtain for his turn. He peers around the curtain to the audience and sees you and Jason huddled together. Jason is even rubbing the top of your head. That’s my head! Hyungwon is furious. The model that went before Hyungwon is nearing backstage. Now it’s Hyungwon’s turn. He struts his stuff onto the catwalk. You were too busy with Jason to notice it was his turn again, but Jason definitely notices and makes sure you’re attention is on him. Hyungwom reaches the end of the catwalk, poses and turns around to exit. You finally notice. Hyungwon reaches the middle of the catwalk, and stops. Then he stretches out his hand towards you, eyes keeping forward. The whole room seemed to stare and stare out of intrigue, confusion, and everything in between, especially you. Almost in a trance like state you slowly rise to your feet, walk towards the catwalk, take that one step onto the catwalk, and grab Hyungwon’s hand. The camera flashes go off rapidly, a few cheers are heard from the crowd as you and Hyungwon walk hand in hand down the catwalk towards backstage. Just before you two turn the corner to be out of sight of the crowd, Hyungwon slightly turns his head toward Jason and winks. 

[yeollieayheehoo]

Thunderheads

Authors note: Hey guys! This is the first chapter for Baekhyuns’ story in A Tale Of Fire And Ice. The stories do all coincide with each other, so please give them a read as well! Please note!! Each chapter will have their own individual warnings, the warnings posted on the mini masterlist apply to the story as a whole!

Summary: Centuries after Gigantomachy, the Titans of legend grow restless, a prophecy set in motion by the shared breath of a long since forgotten God and mere mortal, by the lonely god who sings to the girl made of clouds, and the dead who refuse to grow. 

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader (female)

Genre: mythology!au, 

Rating:  PG

Warnings: explicit language, minor mention of character death, 

Word Count: 2.8K

Chapter 1

You find meaning in the thunderstorm.

The way the thunder rolls across the sky in a seamless harmony with the pattering of the raindrops against the tin roof of your home is a lullaby that you could never get tired of. But, it’s the lightning that crashes across the sky that makes your soul come alive, the light almost pink streaks shining light in the black ocean above you.

You’ve been this way since you were younger, in love with the storm. Back then, you would sit in the garage and watch the rain until the storm died, the mist against your skin and smell of the earth mixing with the rain a near religious experience. Now that you’re older though, you find yourself curled up in your reading nook. You’re thankful to have your own place, enjoying the cool breeze that blows in through your open bay windows, something you would have never been able to do in your parents’ house.

You yawn as the tempest lulls you to sleep, curling up under your afghan as the sound of lightning echoes in your mind.

 “Don’t you think you’re going a bit overboard?”

Baekhyun smiles, looking down at his brother as he prepares to lose another lightning bolt. “Hera has always loved when I go overboard.”

“Mhm, and I’m sure the mortal she left you over loves it too.” Baekhyun sighs before dropping his bow to his side. “Do you really have to ruin all of my fun, Jongdae?”

“She doesn’t even know you exist, why would you pine over here instead of fixing the relationship with the Goddess you’ve literally spent eternity with?” Jongdae regards him with a curious look on his face as Baekhyun jumps down from his spot in the clouds.

“Because she adores me.”

“She adores what you do. If she knew you, she’d ask how something so beautiful can come from someone so…you.”

“I’ll pretend like that didn’t hurt.” Jongdae shrugs as he puts his coat back on.

“It wasn’t meant to be rude, just an observation.”

Baekhyun follows Jongdae to the Realms entrances, leaning against the door to Jongdaes’ scrunching his nose. “It always smells salty by your door. What happened to the little smell good trees Hermes gave you?”

“You mean the air fresheners that the mortals use in their cars? I threw them away. It’s the ocean, what do you expect?”

“You don’t smell salty.”

“Will you move?” Baekhyun rolls his eyes before pushing himself off of the door, giving Jongdae the freedom to leave. “Be honest, why are you so obsessed with that girl?”

“Something the Fates said.” Jongdae scoffs as if he’s offended by the very idea and dismisses it with a wave of his hand. “You can’t believe everything those old fools say.”

“They were right about you and Medusa.” Jongdaes’ face flushes, the male coughs to clear his throat and shrugs. “That’s old news. They haven’t said anything relevant in ages.”

“We’re all in it. You, me and-“

“Don’t’ say his name.”

“You know, he’s technically the one who has the right to be mad, not you. Besides, are you really going to hold that grudge when the world ends?” Jongdae laughs, an empty and joyless sound. “This wouldn’t even be in the works if the mortals still knew we existed.”

It’s an argument the two of you have had countless times over the centuries and it always comes back to the same result.

Baekhyun is tired of being feared.

Before, back when the Greeks knew of the Olympians existence, it was a pure, unadulterated worship. There was no fear, apart from the one that is hardwired into every human beings make up, the fear of disappointment. But even that doesn’t count to Baekhyun as anything in the comparison with the fear of inferiority.

When the Romans came, with Gods of their own things changed. With the battle of Corinth, that led to the destruction of the city in what the mortals called 146 BC, the people of Greece feared what their beloved Gods would do to exact revenge on the Romans, and their worship changed from one of adoration to one of necessity of fear and destruction.

That’s when the visits to the mortal realm stopped, and with them, so did the belief in the Olympians at all, apart from the stragglers that were few and far between.

“You know why.”

“A little fear never hurt anyone.”

“You’re starting to sound like Chanyeol.”

“Goodbye Baekhyun.” Jongdae presses his palm against the distressed white door and Baekhyun watches in amazement, as he always has, as the door slowly turns from wood into a wall of water. “Find something more productive to do that pine over a girl who won’t live a fraction of your own life.” Jongdae passes through the water with a wave, not a drop of ocean falling out of place.

Baekhyun stares as the door reforms and long after that. He knows Jongdae means well, has always been the wisest brother, but sometimes, Baekhyun wishes the Sea God would stay in the sea. Though that would mean he’d always be alone.

When Hera finally got tired of his shit, she left their clouded fortress at the top of Mount Olympus and with her, so did their children. So then, their great trophy from Gigantomachy, the battle of young Gods, the Olympians and the Titans, became another empty thing to join Baekhyun in his loneliness.

Part of him missed Hera, though he wasn’t sure if it was out of adoration, or if he missed the familiarity of her.

He has always been bad at being alone.

A glow from the door to the Underworld pull him from the thought path he’s been traveling down a lot lately, since a year ago when he found you; you who he believed to be the answer to everything.

“What does he want?” Baekhyun mumbles to himself more than to the empty house before pressing his palm against the dark green door. The color always brings up something melancholy in him as he remembers Persephone’s excitement when she finally got to repaint the door.

Her rose bushes, that have long since wilted, line the path to Chanyeol’s cottage, fitting in perfectly with the eternal night that covers the Underworld.

“You rang?” Baekhyun regards Chanyeol curiously, staring at his stretched-out figure, lounging in his favorite hammock, overlooking his domain.

“I figured you were lonely now that the storm is over. Jongdae usually darts pretty quickly.”

“How do you know that?” Chanyeol gestures lazily to the floating, black orb at his feet. “Oh yeah... the faeries.”

“Yeah… the faeries.” Chanyeol can’t help but to sigh at the nickname given to his messengers by his late wife.

“How are you holding up?” Baekhyun knows the answer to this, it’s been the same for the last century, but he asks anyway as he settles into the patio chair next to his brother. It’s almost pitying the way Persephone haunts the Underworld, traces of her existence refusing to fade away.

“As well as expected. You’d think her plants would have wasted away by now, without her here to tend for them. She’s not coming back, I don’t know what they’re hoping for.” There’s a trace of anger in Chanyeols’ voice, like he wishes her ghost would disappear, but he can’t bring himself to erase her.

“There’s always-“

“Don’t, Baekhyun. You’ve been holding on to that prophecy since she died. Still watching that mortal?”

 “You know, when they turn out to be right, like they always are, you and Jongdae are going to look really stupid.” Chanyeol scoffs and turns to face Baekhyun.

“Baek. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you honestly believe that you are supposed to be with some mortal and that we are supposed to stop the Titans from rising again, which by the way, there’s almost no possible way for them to escape their prison. Tell me that you believe Hera, who has put up with all of your adultery and lies for the last some odd millennia that we’ve been alive, isn’t who you’re meant to reside on Mount Olympus with for the rest of our days.” Baekhyun meets Chanyeols gaze, almost mesmerized by his brothers brownish orange eyes and sighs. “I thought so.”

“It’s not that I doubt them Chanyeol. It’s that I can’t afford not to. I cant think about how I’ve given everything I’ve known for it not to be true.”

Chanyeol nods like he understands but doesn’t say anything. This is how his relationship has always been with his brother. When the two were younger, they’d stay like this in the valley most days to hide from Cronus, their father. Jongdae was always the more serious of the three, following their mother Rhea around like a lost puppy at her heels.

“Can I be honest with you Baekhyun?” Chanyeols’ voice is soft as he looks over the amber glow from the souls of his realm and Baekhyun almost doesn’t hear him, the whine of the wind carrying it away. Chanyeol doesn’t wait for him to answer before he speaks again.

“I need them to be wrong, the Fates.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t think I can handle another loss like Persephone. It’s hard enough, still seeing the echoes of her everywhere. If what the Moirai say is true, then I have 70 years top before I’m right back here.” It’s the most open Baekhyun has ever heard his brother be. He knew the death of Persephone still tormented him, but he never imagined it would affect him like this. In the thousands of years that he’s been alive, he’s never seen Chanyeol be this; be afraid.

“Maybe you should come spend time with me and get out of this literal graveyard for a while.”

“And see Dae? I think I’ll pass.”

“So we won’t have another storm for a while. The mortals are already destroying their realm, a few weeks without rain won’t change anything. You need fresh air, without the constant reminder of Kore.”

Chanyeol cocks a half smile, brushing his blonde hair from his forehead as he contemplates. “And what exactly, will I do in Olympus?”

“Who said anything about Olympus?”

 You’re waken by the sun coming through your windows, and the warm breeze as your air heater kicks on. You could barely sleep last night, tossing and turning at the too quiet world in the absence of the rain.

It’s always like this for you.

Begrudgingly, you climb out of bed, making quick work of a shower and dressing before eating a breakfast your mother would have scolded you about and walking out the door. The weather is turning, a cool breeze blowing in from the East. It kisses your cheeks, sending a chill down your body that causes you to pull the lapels of your petticoat jacket tighter around you as you walk to work.

The tattoo parlor you work in as a receptionist has been like your second home since you moved out to Portland four years ago and your co-workers never fail you make you feel like family every time you walk through the door. “Hey Cloud Walker, how’s your morning?”

“Morning, Fanny. It’s been going pretty good. How about yours?” It’s warm in the shop and you’re quick to shed your jacket and scarf, hanging them on the coat rack before checking the appointment book at your counter. “You’re on walk-ins today, yeah?”

“Correct. And considering my 12 canceled, I need them.”

“Did Sunflower mention if she was coming in early today, or is she not coming in until her appointment comes in?”

“She didn’t say. Patch is coming in early.” You hum in response as you erase Fanny’s appointment for twelve oclock today, writing walk ins across the top of her name.  “Your newest addition is still looking good. Do you think it needs a touch up anywhere?” Her hands are warm against your wrist as she looks over the stratocumulus clouds you added to your sky sleeve last week. “No, I think it’s okay.”

Fanny grins and pats your wrist before letting it go, turning away from you as she heads back to her station, working on some of her latest tattoo ideas, leaving you up front to go through emails and appointment requests.

  You’re just finishing ringing out Patchs’ 2 o’clock appointment when the bell above your front door rings, pulling your attention to the two men that walk in.

Their height difference amuses you for some reason, yet at the same time you find yourself enthralled by their presence. The taller one has his hands shoved in his pockets, blonde hair pushed back framing his undercut. There’s an amused look on his face, corners of his lips twisted up into a smirk as he looks to the shorter one.

He looks nervous. His white hair is in small waves atop his head, peaking over his eyebrows slightly, which are slightly furrowed as he approaches the desk. “Hi, welcome to The Parthenon.  Did you have an appointment?”

The taller one laughs, running his fingers through his hair. “That’s a great name. No we didn’t have appointments, we were wondering if you took walk-ins?”

“Yeah, we do. Fanny is with a client right now, but I can see if Sunflower wants to take one, what are you looking to get?”

“I was wanting something else added here, another flower maybe.” The taller shrugs out of his hoodie to reveal a sleeve of flowers decorating his left arm. The detail is exquisite, and it all still looks new, lines dark and colors saturated, but something tells you that he’s had them forever. “My brother though, he’s not sure what he wants. Maybe you could give him an idea?”

“Yeah, let me go grab Sunflower and get the two of you set up, and I’ll be back with a few of our books and we can look through them together, how’s that sound?”

The white haired male nods, flashing you a smile as you move to grab an artist.

“What the fuck, Chanyeol?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this silent. I think this was a great idea.” Baekhyun goes to open his mouth, but stops when he sees you coming back, followed by a black haired girl. “This is Sunflower, if you want to follow her, she can do some free draws in that empty spot on your sleeve and discuss a price with you.” You look at the taller one who has a grin on his face and nods. “Lead the way.”

  Baekhyun wonders if Chanyeol can feel the way he tenses ever so slightly beside him as the older brother plasters a grin to his face and following the girl you brought back. “If you want to come sit on the side of the counter, we can go over a few ideas. Do you have an idea of what you want?”

“Uh, no, I’m not sure. I do like your clouds though. I take it you’re not a fan of the sunshine.”

You laugh and Baekhyun swears that not even the Muses could create a sound as beautiful. He’s almost entranced by the way your chestnut hair sways back and forth as you shake your head. “No, storms are my happy place.”

“Wow, same honestly. I love the lightning.”

“So do I! The heat lightning is my favorite, though we don’t get much of it here.”

“No, I would imagine not. It’s pretty cool here.” You nod, humming to yourself as you flip through the books, trying to find Baekhyun something that he could care less about. You bring a few to his attention, different types of ideas being brought to his attention, before he notices Sunflower say she’s ready to start with Chanyeol’s tattoo and he stands. “I think you’ve inspired me.”

“Oh? Well let me go get Fanny and you can tell her what it is you’d like.”

 The sun has barely moved in the sky by the time Baekhyun is done with his tattoo. You smile sweetly at him as he walks to the counter, curiosity painting your face. “So what’d you get?”

Baekhyun holds out his hand. Between his index finger and thumb, on the back of his hand sits a small, black lightning bolt. The grin that breaks out on your face reminds him that it was worth the trip from his oasis. “Cloud Walker, do 50.”

“Cloud Walker, huh? I take it that’s not your real name?”

“No, it’s Y/N. It’s a nickname I’ve had since I moved here.”

“I think it suits you.”

“And how about you? What’s your name?”

“My name’s Baekhyun.”

[superlustersnew52]

Sabrina’s Superiors

@sistersweird​ also for the Kid’s Play meme, couldn’t pick one

Hecate found it kind of amusing how Sabrina still looked so young. Of course, witches aged slower than mortals, but Sabrina looked like she hadn’t aged at all since before Hecate had even been born. That just seemed to be one of the side effects of the magic that had bound Sabrina to Prudence. Either a side effect of the marker’s magic, or maybe due to Sabrina binding herself to Prudence as her familiar. It didn’t really matter, but Hecate did find it amusing that her mother looked so much younger than herself.

“I told her to wait until you got home, mother...” Hecate mumbled, as Prudence walked in, moaning as Sabrina eagerly ate her out, “But you know how she is. Constantly horny and eager to serve her superiors...”

Sabrina was so glad that she had both Hecate and Prudence to serve now. Hecate was always happy to use her as the fucktoy she was, just like Prudence was, though Prudence was the only one that got to breed her, of course. Playing with Brina was pretty fun, too, of course, but Brina was inferior even to her (and Sabrina normally made Brina take care of the other children a lot nowadays too, so they didn’t play with each other as much as they used to). Having multiple superiors that Sabrina could spend her time serving meant that Sabrina rarely had to worry about anything other than serving them, though...this was the life...

[manggojooz]

Bona Fide (Prologue)

main pairing: Namjoon x Kyungsoo x reader

word count: approx. 2,500

genre: lawyer!au, drama, slice of life, romance 

summary: They say good and bad as though it is black and white, but through whose eyes do we see whether it is black or white? 

warnings: none

comments: I’m back guys... i’ve missed y’all T.T just a little prologue to force start my lawyer au fic..

“You are called to the what?”, “A bar?”, “What’s a bar?”

The two most common assumptions of why the legal qualification is termed ‘the bar’ are that 1. all lawyers require alcohol to function, or 2. it is a metaphorical reference that the people who practice the law has met an undefined (but presumably higher) standard of certain qualities.  

So how high is this ‘bar’? Apparently not that high.  

---

You rather disliked the fact that it is a common assumption that whoever wanted to study the law should have an altruistic mission.  

The age-old question at law school interviews almost never deviates from the conundrum of “why do you want to study the law?”. And here, you faced the first paradox of your legal life – if you wanted to be a member of the bar, you should always act honestly, but if you always acted honestly, you will never make it into the bar.  

You tried to recall what generic idealistic answer you had given at your own law school interview. Meanwhile, the new batch of interviewees waited nervously outside the seminar rooms for their turn to be called in. “Look at them... bright-eyed and bushy-tailed... were we once like this too?”, Doyoung cringes as he turns to look at Lucas and you, and he pretended to be taken aback, “whatever happened to you guys man, you look like zombies now?”  

“As if you look any more alive. It's almost finals time and... I feel like I aged ten years in the span of three weeks”, Lucas gripes, dragging his feet along the squeaky floor.  

---

The years in law school taught you a lot. One of the first was that the law does not exist for an altruistic purpose.  

“The law is fair”, the professor said stoically, then abruptly breaks out into a chuckle, “if someone told you that... check to see if they have eyes that are bright and a tail that is still bushy.”  

To add on to that, law school was ‘university’ after all, and ‘university’ teaches you about life. So other than the occasionally disillusioning lessons about what the law actually serves, the characters whom you encountered in law school were more even more educational.  

Sure, maybe there were a handful of law students who truly intended to pursue justice. But most of them were just mortal. There were those who hail from a family of lawyers, there were those who only came because their grades were good enough, there were those who liked beer, there were those who slept around, there were those who wanted the mirage of prestige and pride, and there were those who only wanted a stable job.  

Most, if not all of these people will eventually make it into the “bar” one day.  

---

You carried a bag of stuff into the monochrome office. The cubicle walls and the chairs were a nasty shade of old navy blue. It was unusual not to have Doyoung and Lucas to cling on to but there was a slight flutter in your stomach. Graduation was a while ago, and now you were embarking on the arduous journey known as legal training, pupilage, or whatever they preferred to call it – basically you had to fulfil a slavery term before you could reach that seemingly prestigious end goal known as “the bar”.  

The office manager was a no-nonsense lady who quickly briefed you and all the other trainees about the office policies before showing each of you to your dingy little seats.  

Half the morning was spent with you setting up your work station, the cubicles around you were occupied by a handful of trainees just like you and your neighbour was a charming and cheery girl named Chaeyoung. After a round of awkward introductions, you settled back into your seat only to have the ringing of your phone make you almost jump back up.  

Did someone call the wrong number? Was the call actually for you? You picked up the receiver and uttered in a hushed voice, “Hello?”

“Is this Y/N?”, the caller spoke rather quickly.  

“Yes, I am.”  

“Grab your notepad, pen, whatever you need and come over to my room now”, a low husky voice commanded.  

“Ok, sure... I-”, your hands somehow started to tremble a little and you started looking around for your stationery but the man on the other side slams down his phone.  

Wait, wait... who is he? How would you know who to look for? “Shit”, you mumbled softly as you put down your phone and Chaeyoung peeps out from her cubicle next to you. “You okay?”, she asked.

“Yeah, I better try to figure this out...”, you replied with a sigh and an awkward smile.  

You quickly grabbed your things and walked towards the larger office area, where all the qualified lawyers were housed. Loitering around the printers tentatively, you were just dragging out each second trying to ponder what is your best way out of this. Unfortunately for you, because you were such a nervous wreck, you didn’t even catch the extension number which would have showed up on your phone.  

“Are you alright?”, a voice startles you as you leaned against one of the printers, fingers poking your temple harshly, lamenting your stupidity.  

His voice was deep and a little husky too, but it wasn’t that voice. You turn around to face him and he gives you a customary smile, a tiny dimple forming on his cheek. It was the first familiar face you saw that day. Kim Namjoon, a fairly well-known senior from your law school because he was always one of the top students and had been Law Club President for a year. Everyone was shocked when he rejected the offers from all the bigger law firms and joined this not so famous one instead.  

“If you are alright, could you please let me take my print out?”, he said with a curious expression and pointed at the printer you were hoarding with your body.  

“Oh I’m so sorry!”, you immediately jumped aside.  

“Are you one of the new trainees?”, he asked in a friendly demeanour.  

“Yeah, I am...”  

“You look lost, are you looking for something?”

“Uhh, actually I’m looking for someone”, you answered sheepishly.  

“Who?”, he looked up at you.  

“Somebody called me just now and told me to go look for him but he didn’t give me his name and I didn’t catch his extension number”, you slurred your words, trying to hide your embarrassment.  

“There’s a call-log function on the phone, you can use that to see who called you earlier”, he said matter-of-factly as he flipped through the pages of paper he just took from the machine, looking back down at the papers now.  

“OH! Is there? Thank you so much”, you gasped at your own dumbness, and you were prepared to run back to your seat to try just that when he stops you.  

“I’m Namjoon by the way. What’s your name?”, he introduced himself quickly.  

“Yeah I kind of know you... I mean I’m two batches below you, so we haven’t spoken before... I’m Y/N. Thanks so much for your help, I better go-”, you were processing your words as systematically as you could.  

“Oh nice... so you are from my school too? And you said you are Y/N?”  

You nodded. “If you are Y/N, then don’t bother running back to your phone, I think I know who called you, follow me”, he smiled a little bigger at you this time, his dimples becoming more visible. Guess this is why you always heard that he was popular back in school – nice and cute, what’s not to like?  

---

Namjoon kicked the door open, the other occupant looked up at him in annoyance.  

“You are going to break that door someday”, he tosses the remark at Namjoon.  

“Hopefully before they break my sanity... I can’t believe this, this guy just sent me a document that isn’t even marked up. How can they not even know to mark up the changes?”, Namjoon huffed while throwing the document onto a desk.  

The room was occupied by two tables, Namjoon saunters in and sits down at the one further from the door. He sees you still standing at the door and flicks his head to gesture towards the other guy in the room.  

“He’s the person you are looking for”, Namjoon said to you before turning to his roommate, “Kyungsoo-ya, next time could you at least say who you are when you call someone? How do you expect a newbie to know that it is you?”

“Why didn’t you ask if you didn’t know?”, the guy named Kyungsoo stared at you with his intensely huge eyes.  

“I... umm...”, what were you supposed to answer? Because you didn’t give me a chance to? Because I was too nervous?

He just continues to stare you down until Namjoon cuts in again, “Stop terrorising the trainee, our team is only getting one this year, don’t drive her away please. Plus, she’s my junior from school”, Namjoon said with a lop-sided smile.  

“Kim Namjoon, rule number one, never reveal your weakness first, how many times do I have to...”, Kyungsoo sighs and closes his eyes in frustration.  

When he opened his eyes again, he just looks back at his computer screen, “come in, leave the door open, we don’t want a ‘me too’ situation to arise here”.  

---  

Soon you found out that as a trainee, you stood in the most awkward position.  

There were the qualified lawyers, like the partners, the senior associates, the associates –  these people would treat you like their slave and not a comrade who was fighting alongside with them. It was understandable, after all being called to the bar as a practising lawyer seems to make them think that they were above everyone else.  

On the other hand, you have all the secretaries, the paralegals, the supporting staff – there was always an undercurrent of hostility between them and the lawyers, which transposes onto all the trainees. Some of them obviously had an inferiority complex while other more capable ones felt it was unfair that their status were always beneath the qualified lawyers when in reality, they probably played a more important role than those “lawyers”.  

Thankfully for you though, at least one of the paralegals on your team was amiable. Eunji graduated from a not-so-great law school and didn’t get through the bar exams, which is why she is slogging away at her paralegal job, trying to make a living while studying to retake the exams.  

---

“Namjoon, you must bully your intern a lot. She would rather hang out with your paralegal than with you and Kyungsoo”, Steven, a senior associate from the corporate team joked as you entered the staff lounge after lunch with Eunji.  

“Looking at them reminds me of when I first started practising, always looking so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed everywhere I went. Are you afraid of us? Do we scare you?”, Steven taunts while talking to you as though he was cooing at a baby.  

Namjoon only quietly sips on his coffee, momentarily contemplating whether to correct Steven on his use of the term “intern” since you were actually a “trainee”. He decided against it ultimately, lest he be called pedantic again.  

Eunji squeezed her lips together preparing her words to retort Steven but you beat her to it. “We are all colleagues in the same office, why is there a need to differentiate?”, you replied in an amicable manner.  

Namjoon raises an eyebrow approvingly, not of the point you made, but of your guts to say something back to the senior associate.  

“Lesson one for our new intern, in this industry, qualification is king. One day when you are qualified too, you will see the difference”, Steven’s tone was sarcastic to say the least.  

Namjoon subtly rolls his eyes and was deciding whether he should extricate you from this when someone else enters the lounge.  

She reminded you of the stereotypical lawyer portrayed in all legal dramas. There will be at least one character like her. Power aura, power heels, power red lips and just powerful all around. Namjoon looked up to see her entering and he seems to be affected by something. She too, looked at Namjoon fleetingly.  

Whatever Namjoon was feeling it obviously made him uncomfortable because he abruptly calls out to you, “Y/N, we have a new matter coming in later, Kyungsoo and I need your help with some research. The meeting starts in two hours, let’s go... there's not much time”, his words were fast and pointed, and he quickly stood up to leave.  

---  

You sat across from Eunji and Chaeyoung in the pub on the first Friday since you joined the firm. The three of you were already slightly drowsy. “What’s so great about getting called to the bar? Does that make them as powerful as the President? As great as the Gods? I don’t care about being called to that stupid bar... I would rather have a handsome guy call me to a bar”, Eunji slurs and giggles.  

That's right, what is so special about this ‘bar’ which you are striving towards, you asked yourself?  

You suddenly recalled what happened that afternoon. You were standing at attention in the associates’ room. Namjoon was looking worried while Kyungsoo was lashing out and demanding an answer from you. The words Kyungsoo spat in your face is still freshly etched in your mind, “if you are going to act like this, don’t bother becoming a lawyer!”

Tears start to form in your eyes again but you held it back. “It’s not great at all! And the standards aren’t even that high!”, you exclaimed loudly to cover up your emotions. Your volume was loud enough to startle the table next to you and Chaeyoung sheepishly apologises on your behalf.  

“As my best friend, Google, will tell you... the ‘bar’ actually used to refer to a physical barring thingy which separated the common people from those who were part of the court of law...”, you blabbered on in a tone mimicking your professors, but dropping to a whisper now as if this was a secret.  

It is a secret – the bar does not denote a certain caliber, standard or quality. The bar is but a demarcation of territory – that this is ‘us’, and they are ‘them’.  

“How can a law, that differentiates between people like that ever be fair? How can it?”, you whined. Chaeyoung uses her hand to cover your mouth, almost suffocating you in the process of trying to stop you from causing more disturbance. Eunji nodded furiously at you as she pours herself another glass of the alcohol, “It never is”, she whispers.  

[lokibug]

Blinded

Pairing: Loki x Blind!Reader

Summary: Beauty and the Beast AU in which Loki is forced to stay in his Jotun form until another human loves him. He becomes a caretaker for You due to be recently permanently blind.

Warnings: Angst

Song: Quit (Acoustic) By Ariana Grande

A/N: We’re nearing the end guys, I’m glad to hear all of your guys’ feedback and support. It’s been lovely.

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7| Part 8| Part 9| Part 10

The sight of the night sky and the sound of y/n’s panicked voice was the last events Loki had remembered before slipping unconscious. It all fell at once, Y/N felt herself crumbling in a wave of mixed emotions. She yearned for nothing more to hate the man who blinded her but, there was no possible way for her to feel such a way. He had done too much for her, even though he was the reason she needed the help. Stephanie arrived not too long after and brought along a friend of hers to carry Loki back into the apartment before he completely bled out. With their medical background they were able to stabilize Loki without needing to take him to the hospital. He had his genetics to thank for that. A day had passed...then another day had passed, it was the evening and Y/N was beginning to think that Loki’s fate would mimic that of her father’s.

Y/N stood in the living room as she exhaustingly rubbed her hands over her face. “...I’ll sleep when I know he’s going to wake up.”

Stephanie gently grabbed y/n’s hands into hers, “Okay y/n, at least take a nap. Please? He’s going to be okay.”

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded. She tucked a strand of her h/c hair behind her right ear. “Okay, come here.” Stephanie pulled y/n into a tight hug.

“Thank you Steph, really. For everything...for understanding.” Y/N mumbled into the hug.

“Hey, that’s what friends are for...” she pulled away and smiled, “alright, call me if he wakes and I’ll be over if you need anything.” Y/N wrapped her arms around herself as she heard the front door open and close. She slowly walked back over to the bedroom.

While they brought him back to the house, she made sure that they lied him down in her room. She knew how tidy and clean Loki was, disturbing that in his room wasn’t something she wanted. It still irked her how much she still worried for his well being. All she had wanted was for him to just wake up so she could scold him again, have another petty argument with him...hear him read her another story.

She sat upon the bed he was lying on. Y/N delicately trailed her fingertips across his cold cheek and to the hair that covered the side of his face. Gently removing it from his face she sighed. The feeling of his skin, the cold and smoothness...it was something she knew no one could ever know. Yes she lost her sight, but she gained far more. An experience only very few knew. Appreciation for what she hadn’t before.

Y/N sat up fully and held her book in her hands. She trailed her fingertips along the cover. She shakily spoke, “Since you’re not reading to me...I thought I could read...for you. The world knows how you couldn’t go a day without such a desire..” she chuckled a tad to herself and cleared her throat. “Here we go...Beauty and the beast. Stephanie bought this for me, it was my favorite as a child.” She smirked and began.

After a half an hour of reading steadily y/n heard a noise, “...and he growled...what was that?...” she voiced her thoughts out loud. Suddenly a faint groan was heard. “Loki?” Y/N tossed the book aside and moved quickly.

Loki peeled his eyes open slowly but surely. Adjusting he groaned and cleared his throat, “Y/N?...” he whispered.

“Yes. Yes, I’m here.” She moved so she was fully facing him and held onto his arm. Loki began slowly remembering the events before his deep slumber. The guilt returned. Y/N cleared her throat, “How do you feel? Do you remember what happened?” She asked softly. She tried to dial down her relief that he was awake, but she was glad one of the most frequent people in her life was okay.

“...I do, y/n...I’m sorry. You had every right...you have every right to be rid of me for all the pain I’ve caused you...if I’m completely honest, I don’t deserve the kindness of even being in your presence.” The words flowed form his dry lips into the warm bed room.

“You might be right...but Loki, I don’t want to talk about that. I want answers. I want the 100% truth from your mouth...but as of now, I’m just glad you’re alive.” She felt a tear roll down her cheek as she leaned over the bed ridden man. He slowly reached up and stroked the tear away allowing his eyes to adjust to the lighting.

“The truth you shall receive...well for one, Im okay. I’m not human as you’ve been told and my healing factor is in a faster pace than yours...so please don’t fret.” He moved up on his elbows slowly.

“Let me help you up..” y/n walked from her bed and around to his side. Slowly she felt around for his arm and pulled him up. He wore clothing he had not been in the night of the incident.

“Did you change my clothing ?...” He perches an eyebrow up.

“No, it was Stephanie’s friend Gerard...he said you had a nice chest.” Y/N stepped back allowing Loki to rise to his feet.

His eyes widened a bit as he realized another human had seen his identity. “Did he um...did he speak of anything else?” He asked cautiously.

“I can get you his number if you’d like,” she teased, “but no...he just said that I could trust him—we could trust him. He said something about working in a certain field with unique patients so for you not to worry. I assumed it was from the lighting condition.”

“...about that.” Loki trailed on as she helped him towards the bathroom.

With the help of Y/N Loki had peacefully been brought back to the room. He spoke of all the gruesome details, the mistakes he had made. His thirst for the thrown as well as where the thirst had developed. He spoke of Odin and his mother as well as Thor and the frost giants. Y/N hated to hear the truth, she couldn’t believe it. She had no choice but to do so. Hearing the stories made her shed a tear for Loki. He hadn’t wanted her to pity him, he even prepared for her to hate him more. However y/n was far more enticed than anything. They sat in the bedroom for a few hours speaking of the experiences he had. He answered every single question she had. It was now time for the hardest one...

“So...if you attacked New York...then why are you here again? Also why hasn’t your brother come to check up on you?..” Y/N held her knees close to her chest. She had taken in such a rash amount of information that hearing more would only change her perspective on things even more. She knew what she didn’t want to hear, but she couldn’t guarantee it would be what was going to be told to her.

Loki sighed a bit, “When I tried to rule earth, my fath—Odin...felt a punishment was in order. Frigga, who taught me magic all my life was the power in this. She stripped away my comforting form by his request...I may have lived on Asgard, but I am of Jotun blood. I was casted down here without my magic and without anyone remembering me...so I would live life as the people who I once looked down upon.” Loki held a cold hand over his bandages, “There’s only one hard thing...mortals make acquaintances but I do not appear mortal. Y/N...”

Y/N noticed the struggle in his voice, he was nervous. It was as if he tongue was caught. “...What is it?...”

“I am a monster. Ugly. No one could love a monster...how could a mortal be around a creature as myself?..” The words of his father echoed in his mind. The cruel words only added onto the self hate he kept buried within himself.

“Hey,” Y/N inched forward and laid her hand on his, “you know I never knew what this would feel like, my father told me all my life. As a child, I was bullied. I was told I was ugly...a horrid sight to look at,” she scoffed, the emotion audible in her voice, “but you know what my father told me?...he told me that our beauty does not come from the exterior. The body is merely a vessel, our spirits are what shine. Kindness and love...that’s what matters. Even if you’re this so called monster Loki...you’ve shown me a kindness that I didn’t know you were capable of when I first encountered you. That’s more than a pretty face.” Loki looked from her hand to her soft features. Her sincereness comforted him. It only made him adore her more.

“I wish you could see what I am...I’m so sorry...I took that from you..”

“Oh Loki, I’m healed...don’t worry about my eyes. I don’t need them to see the real world...I have my heart. My heart is overbearing my mind right now but I’m okay with that. I don’t see you as the man you were that day.”

“Darling...I could say my feelings have changed remarkably. You could never be inferior to me...I see you even more superior in various ways. I could never regret meeting you, with the way you’ve made me feel...despite the consequences.” Loki placed his lips to the back of her hand before he hesitantly moved closer to her.

“...you need some rest. This must be all over whelming you as it has been to me..” she said quietly.

“Will you stay?..” he responded.

“Here?..”

Loki nodded, “I can go to my room but...I’d feel better if you allow me the warmth.” He admitted.

Y/N crawled towards the headboard and beneath the blankets. She reached over to feel Loki’s body position and laid her head on his slightly cold arm. The mixture of her warmth and his chill relaxed him greatly.

“Thank you love...” he whispered gazing out of the window at the night sky.

“You’re welcome..” she yawned and began to slowly drift.

Loki didn’t move much, he hadn’t wanted to disturb her slumber as he was no where near sleep. He could only think of Y/N and her father. Eyeing the photograph of them posing together on the wall, he knew that if y/n was able to see...it would be a great gift to her. Knowing that even if her father hadn’t pulled through, she could see him one last time like she yearned to through this whole tragic experience. He mentally cursed himself for his mistakes. He never regretted his decision in the destruction of New York that fated day until he realized the effects it carried upon the mortal he’d come to love. All he wanted was to erase it, yearned for it to all disappear. If only he had his magic. That was it...it all clicked together.

Suddenly Loki carefully slipped from the bed Y/N had fallen asleep in two hours ago. He walked fast paced over to the hallway then living room, he seen the hourglass and the shards of sand that had fallen slowly. It wasn’t too late for his wish. He walked over to the balcony on the other side of the sliding glass door. The cold wind blew eagerly through his black hair and he looked up towards the moon and stars. His red eyes searched as he painted from the racing in his heart.

“Mother,” He panted and looked down, “I pray unto thee...please. Please allow me the wish. I’m desperate for what follows, I beg of you...” Silence. Loki breathed heavily as it was now visible in the night. He gripped onto the railing causing his knuckles to turn a light shade of Blue. “This isn’t for me...for once...I don’t need mercy from you both, I just need it for her...” he hung his head. He focused on the sound of his heartbeat that he could now hear.

“...Is this what you’re certain of?..” a soft voice spoke behind Loki inside the apartment.

Loki turned towards the voice quickly and shocked. The golden aura surrounding his mother was before him. Frigga stood there studying Loki in his eager stance. Her hands were folded in front of her and her golden hair draped along her shoulders. Loki missed the sight of Frigga, as she was the closest to him...in giving him the love a mother should.

“I’m positive...” he walked back inside and faced her with a serious look, “...I want the wish you’ve given me as part of my deal in all of this.”

“Once you use this wish you can not trick your way into getting it back now Loki, you know that.” She reassured.

Loki cleared his throat and closed his eyes before reopening them to meet those of his mother, “I can promise you, I will ask nothing of you or Odin ever again...if you give her what I ask of you.”

“And what is it you ask my son?..” Those words warmed Loki a tad and gave him the courage to proceed.

“Her sight. I want her to be able to have the luxury of her sight again. I know you and Odin watch from above...I care for her. She deserves this more than any other....I-I took her sight away when-“

“I know...”

“You do?” Loki looked up from the carpeted floor.

“Of course, Loki meeting this woman was no accident. Part of this banishment was for you to understand the effect of your crimes. I now see that...you have...Do you love her?” She stepped closer to her youngest child, wishing she could touch him.

“...Yes. I love her. I want her to have all the world’s pleasures and more. She’s warm in more ways than one...and I love her..” he breathed out his confession.

Frigga’s heart was warmed by this. “If her sight is regained...you do know the chance of her not returning this affection is possible?...”

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take...I’d rather spend the rest of my days as this, than know that I could’ve done something to restore her and didn’t.”

Frigga nodded and walked gently and silently to the bedroom. She eyed the sleeping body of y/n on the queen sized bed. The scars were obvious around her eyelids and she was amazed with the woman that her son had fallen in love with. She hadn’t known he would be capable of such things.

Gold cascaded from her finger tips surrounding the body of y/n. She uttered a few words with her eyes closed and furrowed her eyebrows. This went on for two more minutes as Loki waited impatiently.

Turning towards Loki she spoke, “I can not guarantee my magic will work for this mortal injury...but I’ve done my best...all you could do is wait till she wakes.”

Loki stood in front of Frigga and with a sincere look on his face he said, “Thank you...mother.”

She gave him a sad smile and placed a hand on his arm, “Until next time my son,” she began fading away, “I love you...”

As she faded from view Loki took a deep breathe, “I love you too...” He touched his arm in the area she had and looked down sorrowful. He wished he could feel her once more, even just a hug from her.

For now, he turned towards y/n and stroked a strand of hair from her face...hoping the next time he did it, she would be able to watch as he did so.

Loki taglist: @drakesfiance @sunflqweroses @bambamwolf87 @pandaqua @bonelessbarnes @dorkybryan @hunter-demigod-timelord @thatmemequeen @powerstrangerdacre @barnes-infinity-bucky @kcd15 @evanicoya @yuukiiiiasuna

Story Taglist: @mrssangsterstylesxavier @awkward-silence-turtle @vxidnik @fandoms-allovertheplace @limedane21 @yourpotatotwiceremooved @crazyweirdgeekthatneedstochill @ajduurikscjsja @kiwigrease @fireismysaftey @nhievyenne @bambi-loki @bilesxbilinskixlahey @jessiejunebug @imarockstar45 @fuckthatfeeling @the-deity-ofthe-cosmos @chibiyanai @zarizha @mell-bell @blueskiesbleakeyes @always-kneel-to-loki @graveyardchild @some-person-somewhere @aljadams369 @marvelc00kie35 @harleykittykat @lokis-little-kitten @sparkling-liability @youveseen--thebutcher @wickedscorpio22 @zeddlocket

Permanent Taglist: @marvelismylifffe @libbymouse @keithseabrook27 @maladaptive-ninja-returns

[goodnightkisseu]

Bae Jinyoung - Eternity

Requested By: Anon~ (“ Can i request for a fantasy AU of Baejin? An angst/fluff scenario would be great ”)

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Note: Another week, another new fic for all of you! This time is a fantasy au fic for Baejinnie! ^^ I actually grew quite fond of this one as I was working on it ;; It was a hard one to do because of all the research I had to do on imugi and also the limited amount of information that was available about them. But I do hope that everyone enjoys this one! Please, as always, feel free to let me know what you think!

Enjoy~

Also, because of the situation with tumblr and links, please check my bio for links to my masterlist~

- goodnightkisseu’s admin / ashley <3

Imugi. They are mythical creatures in Korean mythology, which have many origin stories. Some say they are the equivalent to water dragons that grant the wishes of humans who seek them out. One states that imugi are young girls, ones that, on their seventeenth birthday find a dragon tattoo on their body, hinting at their true form. Others speak of imugi as lowly dragons that have to work their way up. They grant the wishes of humans, but remain stuck in a one thousand year waiting period. In their thousandth year they can finally become a full dragon, a full yong. However, if spotted by a human in this thousandth year, or spotted by another imugi, they can no longer fulfill this prophecy and remain an imugi forever. This is the story of Jinyoung, an imugi in his thousandth year. He had planned to bide his time, stay hidden, but when a young girl falls into his waters... what is he to do?  

The life of an imugi wasn't particularly interesting. Waiting. That was what an imugi did the most. Occasionally, they would rise to grant the wish of a human, a wish so desperate it could not go unheard. Whether it was a wish for more rain so that the crops could thrive, or something more specific, like a yearning for another human being, imugi could, within their power, try to aid in whatever way they chose. There was also some time dedicated to honing their skills. Yet truly... most of what an imugi did was wait, biding their time. They would lay dormant in their chosen body of water, just waiting for the time when they could rise. 

The wait was one thousand years…

That was exactly how long Jinyoung had waited. As many of his kind, he also dreamt of finally becoming a full-fledged dragon. He wanted the powers that came with it. He wanted the prestige they held. In this thousandth year if he could avoid his fellow imugi, if he could avoid the eyes of a mortal, he would become a dragon. This was always the hardest year for imugi, but from what he knew, he was the only one that lived in this lake, so he should have been safe from others of his own kind. He had claimed it eons ago. If he could just lay dormant, keep to himself, he could do it. 

That was Jinyoung's hope… but it never happened.

On that fateful day, while he was resting on the lake bed, a loud crash broke the surface of the water. At first, he didn't think much of it. This lake was rather large and during the summer it was a popular spot for humans to gather. Thing was, it wasn't summer; it wasn't even spring or fall. It was the dead of winter. There was no way it could have been a human. Yet it was too big to be any of the small mammals which inhabited the nearby areas. He also heard no yelling or cries for help. It was strange. He wanted to ignore it, but his curiosity got the better of him. If his senses were right, whatever that was, was a living being, and he needed to make sure.

Jinyoung's dark and sleek form, with scales as dark as the night sky, slowly unraveled itself, the creature stretching out its limbs before making his way closer to the surface of the lake. He was hyperaware of his surroundings as he approached the figure, weaving back and forth around the other life forms which inhabited the small lake. As he drew closer, he saw her. Her body was lifeless, sinking further and further into the water. He effortlessly moved around her, his ears perked, trying to find any sign of life. He could hear her heart, but it was faint. At that moment he had two options. Let the young girl drown, or bring her back to the surface. He wasn't sure how she got there, how her unconscious form ended up in his waters, but this proposed a dilemma for the imugi. If he helped her, he risked being exposed to whoever was above. But if he left her like this, she would die. As his golden eyes took her in, she was young, someone far too young to lose her life like this. She had a lot ahead of her. So, would he fulfill his prophecy… or save a life?

Against his better judgment, Jinyoung chose the second option. He knew nothing about this girl, but he felt for her, felt she deserved better than this untimely end. Gingerly, Jinyoung wrapped his long tail around her and pulled her back towards the surface. The closer he got to the surface the more aware he became of the lack of noises above. No one was trying to save her. Whatever had happened, if anyone was there before, they were long gone. Knowing he had no other option than to bring her to shore himself, his form changed. His dark-colored scales formed into skin, his limbs stretching out to be more human, and his reptilian head becoming that of a young male. As his feet met the ground, she was now in his arms, no one none the wiser that the young man with wet hair and clothes was the same imugi that slept at the bottom of those waters.

Gently, Jinyoung set her down on the shore and placed his hands to her temple. With the little magic he knew, he worked to remove the water from her lungs and repair the damage done to her body from her near-demise. He knew he had to work fast though. As soon as she healed, she would wake, and he couldn't risk being seen. He worked his magic as quickly as he could. Just as he was about to make sure that everything was okay, her eyes shot open. The incantations he used must have been too strong, waking her up quicker than he had expected. 

As she regained consciousness, before he could jump back into the water, their eyes locked. What Jinyoung should have done was disappear into the lake as quickly as he could, but instead he froze. His eyes stared at her gentle orbs, both individuals trying to figure out their current situation. Jinyoung was the quickest to regain his footing again, his mind finally working through what this meant for him.

A mortal had seen him, and he could no longer fulfill his prophecy. 

His body finally moved and Jinyoung quickly ran off. He didn't even try to hide his true form as his body changed back into that of a serpent. He didn't care if she saw him. It didn't matter. He no longer had a purpose... and it was all because he wanted to help out a mortal. His life suddenly held no meaning.

========

Jinyoung felt a slew of emotions after saving the girl. First, he felt upset, particularly with the girl. She had to fall into his lake. He had put his own goals at risk and ultimately lost any possibility of achieving them because he couldn't stop his own compassion. Second, he felt lost. An imugi that couldn't become a dragon didn't have a purpose. They could, in theory, do what they always had. He could continue to lie in his lake, helping humans, but there was no way he would feel the same sense of fulfillment. He was no longer working towards a goal. He didn't know what to do with himself and often got mad all over again. 

It also didn't help that the girl, that you, would come back to the lake as if you were searching for something you had lost. Every time he saw you he could feel that anger boiling up again until one day he let it get the better of him. He emerged from the water in his true form, startling you as the large dark imugi transformed into the human boy that had saved you. He could see the fear in your eyes, he knew it scared you to be face to face with him. Yet, you didn't run off. You stayed, and that surprised him even more.

"Why are you here?" His voice was cold, and he did everything he could to not lash out at you.

"I… I just wanted to thank you…" you breathed, not knowing your words would make him angrier.

"You, you want to thank me? Do you know how much I abhor you, human?" he questioned, closing the distance between the two of you. "Because of you, because of a stupid mortal girl, I can no longer fulfill my prophecy, my one life's goal. You've trapped me in this inferior form, and now you want to thank me? I will live the rest of my life as a lowly imugi and it's all because I saved you! I saved a mortal girl that someone threw away because they thought she wasn't worth keeping around!"

Though it felt good to get his feelings out in the open, it was the first time he truly looked at you. Your eyes had been fearful before, but now, now they filled with sadness. It was as if you knew, knew that saving you would cause more trouble than it was worth. For the first time, Jinyoung felt guilt, guilt for letting his emotions get the better of him. 

"I-I'm sorry," he heard your small voice mumble. "I'm sorry that saving me has caused you so much trouble. I didn't mean for it to. I doubt that there's anything I could do for someone like you, but if there is, let me know and I'll fix it…"

Like that, saying those words, you turned and left. It left Jinyoung in a weird spot. He felt like he had overstepped. He was definitely angry, but his words had hit a chord with you he hadn't expected. Day in and day out he would wait for you to come back, to do the one thing that a creature like him wasn't normally capable of. He wanted to apologize. Not wanted… needed to apologize. It wasn't like him, but there was something in your eyes, the way you looked at him, it told him that this was what he needed to do. But, you didn't come back right away. Now and then he would see you sneak over to his lake, but the moment you got close enough to the water's edge you would run off. You would leave things from time to time, probably thinking they would appease him. Usually the birds or other animals would eat them. Honestly, he didn't care much for those things. He needed you to stay long enough so he could apologize. 

That day eventually came. You came back though it seemed like you were having a hard time. At least from what he could tell from where he lay. That day it seemed like you were contemplating something different, different from what a young girl should have. This was when he decided to make himself known. He rose to the surface, in that human form that he realized you were far more comfortable with. 

And he did it, he apologized for lashing out at you. 

He apologized for yelling and for being insensitive, letting you know that no matter how much someone didn't like you, it didn't mean that they could do what they did. You were worth saving. He knew you were tongue tied that you didn't know what to say to him. 

And this was the beginning of it all. This was the beginning of an unexpected friendship… and Jinyoung's new purpose. 

Often you would stop by to talk to him. You would tell him about your day, and the imugi would listen intently. You spoke of school, of college classes, and how hard it was to work and go to school at the same time. This new world intrigued him. Every time you stopped by you would tell him about something he hadn't heard of and he was eager to learn more. Whether it was over random things that Jinyoung inquired about, or something more personal, a bond formed between the two of you at that lake. The more you spoke, the more he learned about you, and the more he grew protective of you. 

He learned a lot about you from listening to you speak. You kept a lot to yourself, hoping to not bother others with your problems. You were quiet, but there were things you were passionate about. He learned of the reason you were at the lake that day, the day he saved you. You were hesitant to talk about it at first, but Jinyoung had coaxed it out of you. A boy, one you had been seeing, had invited you there for a picnic, but his intentions weren't kind. The two of you fought, and you ended up in the water, the boy not knowing that you didn't know how to swim. He ran off and left you to fend for yourself. When Jinyoung heard this story, his blood boiled. There was a reason why he didn't like humans and this was one of them. Some were just... beyond help.

Yet, hearing you tell this story and his reaction to it made him realize something about himself. He definitely felt something far deeper for you than just friendship. Being with you made him yearn to be in his human form for longer, and that was not something an imugi usually dreamed of. He also had a hard time bringing it up. Though the two of you had been meeting for these little talks for over three months, he was afraid that his sudden realization would scare you away. What if you were only doing this to be nice to him? Out of fear? Though it scared him, he did one day make it known that he would like to be with you more often... and your response was as gentle as it always was. You welcomed him into your life because, truth be told, he had become the only one that you trusted.

It wasn't necessarily easy for Jinyoung to adjust to living as a human at first. He was so used to being on his own for so many years that the thought of being among others, among these noisy humans, was not something he wanted. Yet, he would try it for you, and oh boy did he have to try. He had to learn about their way of living, which was far different from the last time he had seen humanity. Before people would work the fields and wish to the lake for their sick horse to get better. Now all he heard was chatter about what the newest drama was or something called an 'iPhone.' It was not the simpler human life that he was used to, but he was lucky as you were there to guide him.

Adjusting was definitely a difficult thing to do, but he learned fast. He didn't like the human at the coffee shop that he now worked. He was always telling him what to do, but Jinyoung kept his temper under wraps so that neither you nor him got in trouble. Honestly, he could tell that you didn't like that human much either. Still the two of you made your living this way. You would go to work together in the mornings. Jinyoung could continue working while you went to your classes in the afternoon. In the evenings you would spend it together, either at home, or you would take Jinyoung out to experience what humans did nowadays. He wasn't a fan of all the hustle and bustle, but he had to admit that he found the culture and the lives of humans interesting. Some of their priorities were in the wrong place, but often they seemed to mean well.

The more he learned the easier it was for him to understand you. You both grew closer because of it, and though he knew there would come a day when time would take you away from him, for now, you were there. He would stay by your side, provide you with the protection and… and love, that he knew you deserved. You were now his world.

"Hey Jinyoung…" you whispered, your fingers running through his hair. The two of you were out on a picnic, near the lake where he had been dormant for so many years. Though you thought it would be painful for him to keep coming here, that he might feel the need to leave your side, he told you it wasn't the case. This place was like his home, and it had become a special hideaway for the two of you.

He hummed gently in response, shifting on the blanket you had set up underneath one of the nearby trees. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked up at you from where his head rested on your lap. Your actions had been comforting, and though he didn't use to be a fan of this human form of him, being with you encouraged him to adapt to it quickly. "What is it?" he asked gently, reaching up and gently grasping your hand in his.

You gave a small smile, your eyes locking with his. "I know I've said this to you a lot, but really, thank you for saving me that day. I know you didn't know me. I know you didn't want to. I know that I stopped you from fulfilling your prophecy, but I really wouldn't be here without you, Jinyoung…"

Slowly, Jinyoung sat up, situating himself next to you. His hand still held onto yours, his fingers interlacing with yours as he rubbed the side of your finger with his thumb. He knew this action was comforting to you. "I know I got angry with you. But looking back on it now, I know that it was the right thing to do. Even if I had to do it again, I want you to know I would save you again. I may not have become an ethereal dragon as I wanted to, but I got to meet you. It was well worth the sacrifice…" he confessed, placing a gentle kiss on your lips…

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Winner’s Curse Prologue

Note: Thanks to @edream93 who gave me the “crazy” suggestion to stop lagging on one of my old fics and do something new and for encouragement in this beginning prologue. This is going to deal with more potential fae problems in Auradon and the villain’s dire living conditions on the Isle. Hope you enjoy. 

2 weeks after Cotillion 

“Everyone shut up!” Queen Nerissa commanded loudly banging her fist on Queen Grimhilde’s table so that the assembled villains would pipe down about how they were missing their latest soaps or needed at their shops.

She surveyed those present. Each with their own skills and ruthlessness that would be useful when the time came for them to invade Auradon.

At her right, sitting on her throne since she refused to sit at the dinner table with the rest of the villains was Queen Grimhilde, filing her nails.

At the head of the long, dusty, unused dinner table was Dr. Facilier in a heated debate with Ursula next to him. Going over past grudges and insults no doubt. They’d had a complicated history since Ursula’s accidental pregnancy resulting in twins.

Further down the table next to Ursula was Morgain Le Fey conferring with Circe. They were newcomers to the Isle. Just arrived six months ago as part of King Adam’s second crackdown following his spawn’s coronation so neither showed the signs of defeat and neglect in their appearance as other villains had. Both were impeccably dressed, the rot of the Isle had not touched them when it came to physical beauty. Their long black locks were free of tangles and they managed to maintain the velvet robes that they had come with so that the patches and faded material were not visible. And their skin remained perfectly pale and smooth.

Which was more than Queen Nerissa could say for Mother Gothel who sat across from them scowling enviously. She looked reminiscent of a gargoyle with her frizzy hair and wrinkles that were deeply entrenched into her forehead despite her vigorous use of a anti-aging cream that she had found among the Auradonian’s leftovers.

Next to Mother Gothel were three of Agrabah’s formerly most powerful sorcerers, Jafar, his sister, Nasira and Mozenrath. Jafar and Mozenrath had been going at it, arguing over who was more powerful and who humiliated Aladdin more while Nasira sat in the middle of them rubbing her temples at their infantile fighting.

Squished between Dr. Facilier and Mozenrath was Yzma, the former advisor of Emperor Kuzco and formerly a kitten before her banishment to the Isle. She seemed to be praying for a bottle of wine if she had to deal with these people and was mumbling something about cow potions under her breath.

At the other end of the table was Queen La, impatiently tapping her ragged nails on the table. She hadn’t aged so drastically as the others- keeping fit by hunting animals in the Isle’s jungle area allowed her to look almost pretty in her skimpy hyena fur bikini. But age had taken its toll on the immortal Atlantean too, crow’s feet were creasing her angry cyan eyes.

The villains immediately quieted down at Nerissa’s action but still harshly glared at the interruption of their tirades. 

Queen Nerissa paid the glares no mind. They were harmless, just delusional blowhards still yakking about their evilness even though none of them had their magic anymore. Or even muscles to punch someone to the ground. They were pathetic, aging mortals griping about their glory days.

Well that was all going to change.

Giving a steely glare back at them, Queen Nerissa looked at each of them in the eye as she began her explanation for why she had brought the 11 of them to Queen Grimhilde’s castle.

“If any of you cared to figure out why I’ve called you here, look around. We all have something in common here. Something that no other villain in this forsaken place possessed.”

“More brains than Gaston?” Yzma suggested, rubbing back the wilted flower attached to her hat. She had a recent confrontation with that lug head when Dr. Facilier made her pick up Zevon from Dragon Hall after Gaston Jr. mummified him with his own leather coat and stuff him in the garbage pile. It was humiliating to have such a louse for a son. And pummeled by an idiot like Gaston’s spawn!

“More evilness.” Jafar half-heartedly guessed, slouching in his seat and rubbing his hungry stomach. He wished he could be back at his shop with some moldy baklava.

Dr. Facilier took a discreet glance around, absentmindedly his useless shadow cards in his hands. “Hmmm” he hummed, his voice transitioning to its infamous velvety tone, “I believe what la reine is implying is that we all had magic.”

“Yes.” Queen Nerissa cut in shortly with a curt nod in the voodoo man’s general direction, “We all had magic before we were sent to this hellhole.” “So what?” Ursula interrupted.

Queen Nerissa tensed, glaring at Ursula until the hefty sea witch rolled her eyes and made a dismissive “continue” motion with one of her tentacles. “King Adam may have stopped us from using magic with his little dome around the Isle, but Maleficent and Ursula’s brats have done something useful. They have broken the barrier twice. They have weakened it enough so we may have a chance to gain some power back.”

It was almost comically that at her last claim, all the villains leaned forward in unison waiting for her to explain.

“I have invited you all here to join my coven. With the barrier weakened, little spurts of magic can come into the Isle and we can practice here, growing and combining our powers until we can break the barrier from within. And from there, we invade Auradon for a glorious, bloody new reign.” Queen Nerissa exclaimed proudly.

The other villains looked toward each other, evil smirks spreading across their faces, minds alight with visions of revenge.

“We can have King Beast grovel at our knees!” Circe gasped. She had been particularly vengeful toward the former king for throwing her on the Isle despite various Auradonian citizens vouching for her to stay in the U.S.A. and that she had reformed. 

“And his head decapitated on a ship mast.” Ursula added, protectively touching her stomach where Prince Eric once stabbed her.

The only one not joining in the happy atmosphere was Queen La. The former queen was stonily glaring at Queen Nerissa as if assessing for the best way to rip out her jugular.

“Your coven?” she growled, slicing the excitement to dead silence. The other villains’ happy grins faded away s they realizing the meaning behind that possessive word and Mozenrath and Morgain Le Fey got up, looking ready to fight.

“I meant, my coven as in it was my idea.” Queen Nerissa began to explain.

“I will not work under your coven. I am the Queen of Opar.” Queen La got up, fists clenching as she strode towards her. Mozonroth sat down with a satisfied smirk at the thought of the coming catfight. 

“Was queen!” Queen Nerissa cut in but Queen La continued her furious complaints. 

“I am Queen. I magicked my own kingdom. I brought rain. I had an army of leopards who when they rebelled, I disintegrate into dust. I fought Tarzan three times and he, not once, was he able to kill me.” 

“Just put your soul into a rat body.” Yzma snickered.

Queen Nerissa began backing away to Queen Grimhilde’s throne as Queen La reached throat-grabbing distance, “I was not defeated by a little princess by losing my balance and falling off a building. I will not work under someone who is my inferior!”

Queen Nerissa didn’t bother to defend that she had been stabbed before falling off a building as Queen La’s sharp nails aimed at her face when Queen Grimilde threw a box in between them.

The shoe box clattered to the ground and out scurried a small purple lizard.

“What is that!? Is it poisonous?” Mother Gothel screeched, getting up on the table with Circe and Nasira.

“That’s Maleficent.” Queen Grimhilde answered, shoving between a momentarily shocked Nerissa and La.

“Can we keep this meeting moving along? I need eight hours of beauty sleep a day.” Without a big display, Queen Grimhilde pulled out a vial of bright pink liquid and threw it at the lizard that was running under the table causing several villainesses to screech with uncharacteristic fear. The lizard began to grow and morph into the familiar, formerly petrifying figure of Maleficent.

“So our magic potions can work?” Yzma whispered joyfully.  

Flinging her head back so that her horns almost stabbed Dr. Facilier’s hat, Maleficent stretched and cracked her bones before turning to face Queen Grimhilde. “About time!” she huffed and turned her attention to the other villains.

“Scared of a common lizard, no wonder you were defeated by royals. You’re just as soft as them.”

“Hey, I have a right to be scared. Didn’t Nasira’s daughter almost die from some lizard bite last month?” Circe questioned.

“It wasn’t a poisonous lizard, it was just the infection from the bite. Though I think she was being a bit over dramatic about it if you ask me.” Nasira said, “Just because I don’t have medicine to treat a wound doesn’t mean she was “dying” or whatever.”

Maleficent snorted derisively to signal a topic change, “And La, you were defeated by a half-witted gorilla man and his British twat of a wife. Your soul was in a rat’s body before you came here. You don’t have the staff that allowed you to have a kingdom or bring down rain. You don’t have any claim to being someone’s superior....Now as for the coven, it will not be ruled by Nerissa, it will be ruled by-” 

“Not you.” Queen Nerissa moved next to Maleficent, away from her safe spot next to the throne. “You’ve been gone for months, Malfi.” 

She smirked at Maleficent’s clenched scowl, “You’re no longer the Queen of the Isle and with your daughter turning out to be as big of a goody goody as Aurora I don’t think you have any claim to being the Mistress of all Evil.”

“Exactly.” Queen Grimhilde agreed, glaring at Maleficent to respond, “As a coven, we shall have no ruler. Just a common goal. Bring King Adam to his knees and kill the royals that have foiled our plans and ruined our lives far too many times.”

“How do we know you won’t try to take the power for yourselves?” Jafar challenged.

“How will we know that you won’t?” Queen Grimhilde shot back.

“He’s too weak to be able to do such a thing. He’s nothing without his cobra staff.” Mozonroth said. “Why you-” Jafar reached to strangle him when Morgain Le Fey waved her arms and the two dueling sorcerers split apart with a force pushing them to the walls.

With a satisfied smile Morgain Le Fey confirmed, “We can use some of our former magic. And as the only one here who has been in a coven before, you should know that covens work without a ruler. Just one common goal as Grimhilde said.”

The rest of the villains seemed to begrudgingly accept that explanation so Morgain continued to talk.

“Even without our wands or staffs, we can still use alchemy. Ursula, your powers are derived from the sea right? You don’t need your necklace.”

Ursula nodded, “I would prefer to have my necklace but yeah I can do it.”

“Jafar? Nasira?” She turned to the Agrabahans.

“We can try to go back to the old fashioned magic until we can have our objects back again.” Nasira answered as Jafar got up and shuffled back to his seat, wiping himself of imaginary dust.

“La?”

“Queen La. I’m fine without my staff. I was a High Priestess before I became queen.”

“Mother Gothel?”

“I can use old spells.” Mother Gothel answered.

“Good. Then we can all be useful in this coven.” Morgain said. “The most powerful magic users on the Isle. And soon to be most powerful rulers of Auradon.”

“What about Madam Mim? If we are going to have all the magic users, shouldn’t we include her?” Dr. Facilier questioned.

“A coven either has three people or thirteen people.” Queen Nerissa said, “Besides do you really want to work with that madwoman?”

None of the villains volunteered to continue with that suggestion.

“No leader?” Maleficent hissed through clenched teeth. “You’re saying that we’re all equals.”

“In the coven at least.” Queen Nerissa said, “I was thinking on the Isle...we can be at the top of the food chain. After all, we have powers. The others don’t. They should all bow to us.”

Maleficent smirked, “That would be good.”

“So we’re all in agreement. We work together until we take over Auradon. In the meanwhile, dominate the Isle.” Queen Grimhilde clapped her hands and some of Maleficent’s goblins came in carrying trays with unfermented wine.

When Maleficent looked at her incredulously, Queen Grimhilde just shrugged, “You were gone. So I took them.”

The villains took their seats at the table, and clinked glasses to their coming takeover of Auradon.

[sad-goomy]

Lonashipping Week 2018 - Day 2

Fantasy AU

Check out @lonashippingweek for all the work created for the prompt!

There's an old legend amongst the fae that tells of a king who fell in love with a mortal, becoming humble in her wake and giving up his crown to be by her side.

Gladion could never stand that story.

His mother would recite it every night before he and his sister fell asleep. Lillie would grin the entire time before slipping off into a dream, happily sighing to herself.

Gladion would scowl and argue why any fae, much less royalty, would do something so stupid. To marry for something as fleeting as love is one thing, but to do so with a mortal is another entirely. He didn't understand how anyone could put up with them, could find anything more than fragility and naivete in any mortal.

And his mother would laugh, closing the book and telling him simply, "It's only a story. When the time comes for you to marry, I'm sure you will make the right decision."

He hasn't thought about that story in years – he hasn't had the time to, not when his father went missing and his mother fell ill, forcing him to take the throne much earlier than he'd ever dreamed. What was left of his optimism was buried next to his childhood as he began learning the true meaning of duty and the headache that came with the fae court.

It was Lillie who remained hopeful, who looked after their mother and sought out every cure she could find in the library.

It was Lillie who found the witch, organizing a handful of guards to follow rumors of a powerful witch in the woods with an owl familiar.

After a month of searching, she came willingly to the palace, nearly refusing the job until she heard the word 'poison' and jumped at the opportunity. She worked hard and diligently, spending long nights in the library and every day rummaging around the garden and apothecary. She's careful with the fae, like any good witch is – she never accepts their gifts and keeps their pride in mind as she speaks to all members of the court.

That doesn't stop Gladion from disliking Moon immensely.

They cross paths far too often for his liking, and she has this horrible talent for twisting his words against him. She's odd, from her interest in poisons to her seemingly constant disheveled appearance. On top of that, her owl comes and goes from the palace as it pleases, leaving feathers everywhere in its wake, and Gladion is beginning to suspect that he's allergic to the damn thing.

And yet after the first few weeks, something shifts.

When she laughs, he straightens. Her gray eyes hold an intelligence that he would never admit to anyone, but that entrance him for longer periods of time as the days pass. The nights when he stumbles upon her in the library, he marvels at how such a fragile mortal can keep pushing herself, seemingly never satisfied with a curiosity that hungers to know everything.

He finds himself remembering the childhood tale of the fae king and the mortal, and an odd thought occurs to him. The more he reckons with it, the more it makes sense, and so a month after Moon moved into the palace, Gladion goes and finds her in the garden in the afternoon.

She sits in her favorite spot just outside the greenhouse, taking notes in her leather-bound journal, an abandoned cup of tea on the table. He watches her instinctually brush away the glowing, carnivorous flowers trying to climb their way up her legs; her fondness for the deadlier plants in their collection still boggles him, but he pushes the thought away along with the uncharacteristic blossom of nerves in his chest.

Her owl notices his presence first, looking up from its perch on the empty chair across the table. He hoots at the fae, alerting Moon to pause her writing and look up. She raises a brow, closing her notebook as she mumbles, "To what do I owe this visit, Your Highness?"

He clears his throat and recalls the speech he prepared last night. Sensing the shift in the air, her familiar takes flight, deciding to avoid what is sure to be an ensuing debacle. Moon's brows furrow, but before she can comment on his odd behavior, Gladion states stiffly, "It has come to my attention that you are unmarried."

"...You've noticed it before. You have enlightened me as to several reasons why no one would wed me." Moon looks around the garden, as if looking for some sort of explanation. Realizing she won't receive any, she looks back to the fae king with something between exasperation and confusion. "What exactly is this about, Your Highness?"

"As you know, our kind age much more slowly than you. However, I am approaching the age in which I must consider marriage, now more so since I have ascended to the throne." He rolls his shoulders, breaking his gaze from her to instead survey the garden, a reminder of the vast amount of wealth and responsibility that he has learned to manage. She follows his gaze, biting her tongue even though it's clear she has several opinions to voice. He continues, "Though our courtship may have been brief, I have concluded that your intelligence and steadfastness are excellent qualities. Perhaps, with time, I may learn something from you, and having you in the palace is an invaluable resource. Lillie enjoys your presence, and our mother is on her way to recovery due to your diligence."

When he finally locks eyes with her once more, Moon's stomach drops to the ground, and she suspects the enchanted plants at her feet will begin feasting on it any moment. Then he takes a deep breath and says the very words she so desperately hopes he will not.

"And so I offer you my hand in marriage."

The silence that follows is heavy, and yet Gladion seems pleased with his soliloquy, waiting expectantly for her answer.

Moon blinks. "You think - " She shakes her head, cutting herself off and trying desperately to wrap her mind around this turn of events. Finally, she settles on asking incredulously, "You consider everything that's happened between us...to have been a courtship?"

He hesitates, thrown off when her immediate response isn't an enthusiastic agreement. "Somewhat."

She lets out a one-note laugh, not entirely convinced that this isn't all some fever dream brought on by working with too many poisonous fumes. "You threatened to kill me when I first arrived."

"I regret that."

He doesn't and they both know it.

Seeing that he's clearly losing the upper hand, he stumbles to collect himself and salvage the moment. The sun is suddenly much brighter than efore, and he can practically feel his pale skin growing flush with a burn. "Despite misgivings I may have had in the past, I now see that matrimony would be mutually beneficial."

"Misgivings?" she mutters, before her eyes widen in realization. Moon tries no to fix him with a glare, but her frown gives away her displeasure. "You mean the fact that I'm not fae and therefore inferior to you?"

"What are you getting at?" Gladion snaps, the rush of embarrassment at this conversation going so awry now morphing into frustration. There's no logical reason why she would refuse him, and yet here she is, defying him yet again even as he offers her the world.

"You'll have to pardon me, Your Highness, it's just that my lowly witch brain can't comprehend at what point your thinly veiled insults were meant to be taken romantically."

It's his turn to blink owlishly, taken aback at the bitter tone. He reacts without thinking, as he's prone to do with her, and matches her scorn with his own as he scoffs, "Why does it upset you that I recognize I'm of a higher station than you?"

"I don't understand why it would be a misgiving that would keep you from proposing." The glare she gives him nearly turns him to stone, and even the plants at her feet seem to sense her deadly intent, shrinking away from her.

Gladion laughs humorlessly, his eyes roaming her torn cloak and marred skin with distaste. "I am from a proud and noble line of fae royalty – to throw myself at some hermit is far beneath me. I have placed my status and dignity at risk to propose, and you dare to disrespect me in this moment, to treat me without my title?"

She opens her mouth for another attack before closing it quickly, silent and seething as she matches his scowl. Considering her next words carefully, she slowly collects her indignation below the surface, forcing her face into something nearly expressionless. "Your generosity knows no bounds."  

Then she stands, and he smirks at what is sure to be his victory, her finally seeing his logic and agreeing that their marriage would be the best arrangement for -  

"And so it is with a heavy heart, Your Highness, that I must refuse."

It hadn't crossed his mind that she might reject him.

Any fae would gladly accept his proposal, recognizing his physical beauty, incredible intelligence, and ubiquitous status. Surely a mortal would be leaping at the opportunity, no matter how roughly their relationship started. He considers the fact that she may have the silly notion that something like marriage should be concerned with love, but then hasn't she seen his charm? That should be more than enough to satisfy her, help her realize that he's made an offer she simply would not dream of refusing.

He tries not to gape, clenching his jaw as his eyes widen without his consent. Swallowing his shock, he demands, "On what grounds?"

"You've said so yourself: to marry me is far beneath you. I cannot have you wound your pride for my sake." Her faux-pout does little to hide the amusement behind her words, and he quickly understands what little game she's set up for herself just to add insult to injury.

"Don't you understand what I am offering you?"

"But of course, which is all the more reason to humbly refuse it – I know better than to accept a gift from fae." She tries to hide her smile as she watches him bite back a growl. Before he can come up with his counter, she holds up a hand and insists, "And please, I am healing the queen only because I know it's right, and I will refuse any pay for it."

Growing desperate he says, "Then I command you to be my betrothed."

Moon sighs, doing her best to look disappointed. "Ah, but unfortunately I am not a member of your court, honorary or otherwise, as you have said time and time again. Your words have no true power over me."

She's right, of course, but he refuses to admit it, instead stepping forward and threatening, "I would have you jailed for such insolence."

"What charges would I be imprisoned for, Your Highness?" Her voice is far too sweet, far too knowing in that she's won this little battle just by rejecting him. She raises a brow, watching him squirm for an answer and delighting in the fact that she can reduce a noble fae to an aggravated schoolboy.

"I need none."

She nods sagely. "Very well, but I would hate to put the strain on your resources. You, ever the pragmatist, have pointed out before that housing, clothing, and feeding me while I work on the cure is costly and such a waste. I would hate to have your kingdom continue to do so indefinitely in prison."

They stare at each other, Moon with her lopsided smile and Gladion with his scowl. Despite his irritation, there's something about the quiet confidence she has in how she holds herself that nearly makes him break into a surprised laugh; she's one of very few people who truly isn't afraid of him, who may see him as an equal. Worryingly, he doesn't mind, and even more distressing is the fact that he now plays into her game, lightening his tone and raising a brow.

"I could have you killed," he warns under his breath.

But she smiles impishly and steps even closer, a breath away as she taunts, "And then you'll have no cure, and you'll be condemning your queen to the same fate as the hermit."

Realizing there's no gracious escape from the grave he's dug himself, Gladion simply groans. "You are insufferable."

"Which is why I must save you from this temporary hysteria I find you in and refuse your hand in marriage!" She steps away, and a part of him aches at the distance as he watches her gather her notebook and writing supplies. With a curtsy, she says, "If you'll excuse me, Your Highness, I really must be going. Simple-minded hermit business to attend to."

And she brushes past him, leaving him to stand in front of the greenhouse with his racing thoughts, most of which now concern what to change for his next attempt at a proposal. He enters the greenhouse, ready to pace as he considers his next move, whether he should give her more time, or plant more of those carnivorous flowers that she loves, or perhaps offer his help with the antidote.

There may be more to that old legend than he would have ever liked to admit.

I guess Fantasy!AU also means something like Pride and Prejudice in my mind, mostly because I was inspired by the greatest smack down of all time

[jay-and-joy-write-naruto]

Yandere!Madara and Yandere!Tobirama to their boyfriend getting ambushed and is currently in the hospital after being saved by their (Madara's/Tobirama's) Best Friend, their best friend is also the one that tells them what happens? (Best Friends are so loyal) - Wildove

Uhhh hello, dear! Thanks for the patience and for this amazing ask, ommmg

Sure hope I did okay with these XDDD

Male s/o being ambushed, and then saved by their Yandere’s best friend.

Yandere!Madara

I think it’s very likely that Madara has some of his inferiors look out for his boyfriend. His best friend is Hashirama but I don’t think he’d want his s/o to be very close to him. On one hand, Hashirama still is an enemy, and also a sunshine that has a very easy time making people like and adore him - and he won’t risk losing his s/o to that man, no matter how important Hashirama is to him

So his best friend most likely wouldn’t know of you, or at least he wouldn’t know just how important you are to Madara. But Hashirama knows him, so he probably worked out that they’re together somehow. And anyway, Hashirama would never let someone of his village down. If he saw this man injured and/or robbed, he’d step in immediately, helping where he could before bringing him back to the village and patching him up. He’d probably call for Madara only after the s/o is safe again, so Madara could already be pissed that Hashirama spend so much time with the man the he loves!

And besides, it’s rare for Madara to actually leave his s/o alone. If he really does have to leave he usually tries to make him stay in their shared home. So he is already angry that his boyfriend would even leave the house!

Also, he feels conflicted about the whole thing with Hashirama. He does feel grateful, but another, very big part of him is angry because 1) he wasn’t the one who could protect his s/o himself and 2) because Hashirama is now their hero??? And Hashirama is already so lovable, what’s gonna happen to his relationship now?

Madara isn’t the most affectionate man so taking care his boyfriend is hard sometimes. And it’s another thing that makes him mad. Hashirama probably smiled and made s/o smile or maybe even laugh - he doesn’t even think about the fact that Hashirama called for him the moment s/o was out of mortal danger and didn’t even really have to to talk with him at all - so Madara will do anything he can for his s/o as soon as he’s conscious. Abandoning the village’s duties comes natural to Yandere!Madara when his s/o is involved so he spends most of his time looking after his s/o now. I can see him really scolding them first though - So harshly that he has to be removed from the hospital room for a few hours.

He comes crawling back though, Madara always does. I mean, he doesn’t seem like it because he plays the “i only did it to protect you” card and acts like he was right all along. But he does hold his s/o’s hand and when he’s are half asleep, he can hear Madara mumbling about how he’ll never let something like this happen to him, never again.

Madara is a darn good shinobi, and he always does things himself if he can. He doesn’t want to risk anyone fucking up, and honestly, the thought that the attacker touched and hurt his s/o drives him crazy. He wants to kill him with his own bare hands - okay, not bare. The only person he touches without those gloves on is his s/o! And… he does get messy when he “takes care” of those who harmed his beloved, so wearing gloves to protect his hands from all the blood is better.

Yandere!Tobirama

Tobirama is more level-headed than Madara is, but he is still aggressive when it comes to his s/o and his wellbeing. He just isn’t as obnoxious about it, though. He likes doing things himself, too, he just won’t get messy like Madara. He gets rid of them quickly and silently. He likes going the “clever route”

Again, Tobirama’s best friend… heh, it’s Hashirama. Or at least, he is probably the person he trusts the most. I could also imagine one of his students finding the s/o, though. He’s definitely close to them, too!

Okay, I am not sure how likely it is BUT just imagine his team is kind of in on it. Just imagine they know that the s/o is under Tobirama’s watch all the time, and they’d all just bring him back if he tried to run away from their sensei!! Imagine it D: Or maybe he just has one or two students he really trusts and they’ll get to know Tobirama’s not-so-sane side.

He does give his s/o some freedom, as long as Tobirama is in the village and knows where exactly he is at all times. So… not too much freedom, but he doesn’t like completely restricting him. He loves to see the happiness in his eyes, and locking him away would take that from him.

But it does make it more likely for Tobirama’s s/o to get ambushed. And since he makes it his student’s “mission” to look after him whenever they can, it is most likely they find him, actually. If they do, Tobirama will feel two things most intensely 1) pride and relief that his students solved the problem and 2) anger and fear for his s/o. Of course his boyfriend knows that he’s to stay away from any and all dangerous places and he kind of blames him for getting himself hurt.

Again, he’ll be proud that his students helped him and brought his boyfriend back so he rewards them by being allowed to accompany him when he gets rid of those who harmed his boyfriend. God, Yandere!Tobirama turns his students into yanderes too XDD

But seriously I can imagine him making it seem as some kind of lesson about loyalty or something - but whatever he tells them, Tobirama is damn clever so he’ll always think of a way to phrase things so it’ll seem harmless enough.

As the second Hokage, his boyfriend is pretty likely to be attacked by foreigners or even people inside the village who have a problem with how he runs things, so with time he’ll control his s/o more and more without even realizing it. Things like that… do usually make it worse for a while. And Tobirama can be very stubborn and cruel, even to the people he loves. So he’ll have no problem locking his s/o up until he’s gotten rid of anyone he can find who might mean harm. And I think… he can be quite manipulative, too. He’ll make his s/o feel so guilty about getting hurt he’ll most likely lock himself up. Yes, Yandere!Tobirama can be a very cruel man.

[garden-ghoul]

vardasvapors replied to your post: appendix blog, part 1

haha “mumble mumble blood purity hangups” uuggghhh my least favorite aspect of these books. partly because like, purity of ~culture or ~memory would have been imo so much more non-cliched an obsession-point for the dunedain to get hysterical about imo, especially bc of the whole long-lived and living-in-proximity-to-elves context. but that’s. uh. probably way too tangential a train of thought.

truly is there any train of thought too tangential for tolkien fandom? purity of memory would be a REALLY interesting one, since as we’ve all discussed before everyone is constantly changing history to suit themselves. well, I guess “purity of memory” would define “pure” as “whatever we decided is the correct history.” I think it makes a lot of sense for the dunedain to get hysterical about the idea of having ~short-lived kings~ because being bitter about how they are closer to immortality than normal humans but still mortal is like. Their whole thing. getting hysterical about cultural purity... idk what precisely you meant but like they kinda do, I got the sense they think of the northmen as culturally as well as genetically inferior