#Okay but form fitting as a challenge is so cruel to me

[thedailyvio]

Day 30 - 32

WIP Below:

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr Neil,

I want to share how I feel about Sherryl the supermodel from Good Omens. You've answered a question previously when someone felt that her representation was lacking empathy (re the visual effects note in the script book, although the scene was cut), and I want to offer my thoughts to help people who felt that way about Sherryl.

The book (Good Omens, not the scripts, which I haven't read) plays with dark topics and makes them absurd and fun, aiming the jabs at the systems that (mis)guide or harm people (there are Beliefs, the People who Believe them, and the odd ways of living that make sense to them). Famine's D-Plan sums up the diet industry and a culture of starvation: of course we don't laugh /at/ Sherryl, we understand (because of everything the novel sets up) that like every other human she does her best with the frameworks she's got. It's empathetic, because that's what Good Omens is. Understanding that let me reframe the knee-jerk reaction I had on my first read of the scene in the book.

[For the TV show, though, as you've explained in the past, certain things had to be adapted to the time. I wonder sometimes - because I know that you do these things well - how you felt about approaching Sherryl nearly 30 years later.]

I think the trouble for me was that the scene in the book felt cruel at first. Now, I think 'A skeleton in a Dior dress' beautifully sums up the sacrifice of her humanity to become New York's top model. It's death dressed up - that's how such extremely-ill supermodels *should* appear to us if only we were unblinkered. One should see plainly the actual violence in an emaciated person's appearance. Maybe growing up with early 2000s aggressive body-shaming British TV shows and an overweight mother of Sherryl's generation as well as personal experience of anorexia made the 'skeleton' image feel cruel, now-overdone and recognisable to the nastiest unhealed bits in my psyche.

I think the frightened human animal in me initially recoiled from the dehumanisation. The pit of me jerked at the descriptions of Sherryl that felt like real insults, pulled straight from mainstream body-shaming media of my formative years. Of course, Good Omens predates this - thin was in, religiously, and the scene was subversive then - but that was my initial bodily feeling, not a thoughtful response. I describe it to illustrate where the challenge was, after we've gone from skinny worship in the 90s, to domestic skinny enforcement, to skinny shame, to wherever we are now in the popular orthorexic fitness culture and clean-eating minefield etc etc. Starvation dehumanises, and Sherryl was sick to the point of being inhuman - the scene under a microscope might feel complicit in dehumanisation to the sensibilities of teens and young adults today (for the same reason that people in Trafalgar Square can't see England), but within the book it humanises Sherryl by showing you plainly what awful thing has happened to her.

What the book did for me was let me delight in a sense of humour that makes difficult things totally absurd and therefore perfectly understandable. It told me, everyone is doing their best (to the best of their understanding), and when the fun-poking poked at my own pressure points, it said, lovingly, yes, you too. Many things about the book are like laughing with a friend or receiving a warm hug - it makes the big things so silly, and shared, and okay.

Thanks :) x <3

I am glad that is how you saw her. That is how we saw her. (I'm reminded of the only time I was ever at a high fashion event, where I found myself profoundly shocked by the incredible thinness of the models, and how sorry for them I felt, and how I wanted to feed them soup and stew and sandwiches. And of a high fashion model I knew a little, when she went out with a friend of mine, who told me that some girls she knew used heroin to stop the hunger pains, injecting themselves between their toes, and later I learned that my friend broke up with her when he learned she was a heroin addict.)

[scribblesofagoonerr]

All that I ask is that you stay with me | Inner Demons

⟫ Alphabet Challenge, A - All that I ask is that you stay with me

Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader

This is some angst that I thought to write because, well, life's been hard recently and I need a creative outlet to get my emotions out on paper and well, this is the result.

It might not be great and it's not been proof-read at all, so uh, yeah... Let me know what you all think but please be kind :)

And if any of you have any ideas of things to write, I'm open to write anything, within reason of course. My asks are open so feel free to drop anything in there :)

The battle with your inner demons are hard. You sometimes wonder if it's better to leave the world, making the decision without the realisation of how loved you are by the team of girls around you.

TW: heavy angst, SH, MH and talks of suicide and death.

"Y/N are you in there? Hurry up, we're about to start the film" The loud voice of Katie shouts aloud from the other side of the closed bathroom door to alert you of your attention.

You were joined by the girls in a classic team bonding night, a good ol' fashioned film to watch with some sugary treats, curtousy of it being a cheat day.

You are always so excited to spend time with the older girls, you all looked up with some much respect, being a part of the team for a while, you'd grown to love the girls like your own family.

Despite how well you fitted in at the club and how amazing you played football, there would always be people to put you down.

And in this case, it was in the forms of social media.

The internet could be a cruel place sometimes.

"Ye... Yeah, alright. J... Just a minute, I'll be right out" You shakily reply as you held the blade out in front of you while it stared back at you, almost like it was almost taunting you to use it.

Old habits are easy to break, you should have knew that.

It wasn't long before you were slumped on the bathroom floor as you watched the crimson liquid trickle down your arms. It felt like a rush of instant relief to the pain that you currently indured.

One small cut to take away the pain, you thought it would be okay.

Two cuts, you just wanted to chase the rush of the first.

Three, four and five, you realise you may have messed up.

You were doing so well, you had been on the right path to get help. that was needed. You had been clean for a numerous amount of days and just in that instant, the snap of a finger and all of that progress, had just been so easy to unwravle again.

You found it so easy to take a hold of the blade in your hand, press it against your wrist and pierce the skin.

It was a feeling of euphoria that you hadn't felt in a while, it was something that was needed.

The cuts were deep, too deep that even with added pressure, they wouldn't stop bleeding.

"Is this the end now?" You had to question yourself as your eyelids felt heavy, you were so tired and you didn't have it in you to fight anymore.

Was it really that easy to leave a world full of heartache and pain?

Maybe so,

At least you had thought that as you hear the sudden loud bang of the bathroom flying open and clashing against the wall.

"Y/N!" It was Leah's shrill voice that screams out in a panic, her eyes widened in fear as she stares at you. "Y/N, can you hear me?!" she questions with a a quiver in her tone.

"L... Le" You slur her name as you look at the blonde as you can feel yourself slipping into a state of unconciousness.

"Stay awake, Y/N. You have too-- Girls, help!" Leah continues to shout aloud for any of the girls to hear. " You hear me, Y/N? You have to stay awake" she pleads as her tears threaten to spill.

"S' okay, Le. L... Let me go. It's time" You tell her quietly as your eyes flutter between being open and shut.

"No, Y/N. You can't give up... You can't" Leah cries openly, the tears at bay have now escaped. "Stay with me, Y/N. Stay with me, please" she adds, her voice becomes louder as hot tears roll down her cheeks.

The rest of the girls all heard Leah's panicked voice and dart in the direction of the bathroom, each of them gasping in shock to find you slumped on the floor.

"Shit-- Y/N" Beths' eyes widen in fear and panic as she takes in the scene in front of her.

"What happened?" Viv questions, alarmed by the sight.

"S... She's hurt herself" Leahs' panicked voice speaks aloud while she's crouched down on the floor and pressing a towel against your wrists to try and soak up the blood. "I... I can't get the bleeding to stop" she tells them.

"Somebody call an ambulance, quick" Katie states as she joins Leah's side to kneel down and try to help in way that she can.

Her usual joking manner has suddenly turned into fearful and that's when the girls all knew this was serious.

"I'm on it" Jen agrees as fishes her phone out of her pocket, dialing 999 and waiting for an answer on the other side. "I need an ambulance, as soon as possible. It's urgent! My team mates' hurt herself and is in and out of unconciousness" the scots' woman speaks aloud,

"Stay with me, Y/N. Stay with me, keep your eyes open please" Leah pleads as she continues to hold the now blood-soaked towl against your skin, her own tears freely spilling down her cheeks as you daze in and out of sleep.

"W... Why would she do this to herself" Steph questions concerned as she glances at you, heartbroken it had come to this.

"I don't know, she was... she was doing better" Lia spoke out, swallowing the lump in her throat as she tried to keep her own emotions in check.

"At least, we thought she was" Beth mumbles as she struggles to take her eyes off your unconcious body.

"She'll be okay, she has to be" Caitlin adds in with vulnerability in her voice that wasn't usually shown to anyone, other than you.

You were the baby of the team, all of the girls were overprotective of you ever since you joined. It wasn't a secret that you had them all virtually wrapped around your pinky finger.

All the girls knew it was hard for you, you had a lot of expectation to live up to and knew that eventually, the pressure would be too much for you and you would break.

They were all there the last time, they saw the good, the bad and the damn right ugly and vowed to not let it happen again.

But, old habits are easy to break, right?

"Ambulance is on it's way. It won't be long" Jen tells the girls.

"I'm going with her" Leah was quick to say. A tone in her voice which the rest of the girls knew to not object against.

You were close with the girls but compared to them, Leah was pretty much your second-mum, older sister figure all rolled into one and she was the one that you always came to when it got tough.

Why didn't you just speak to her? Then maybe things could be different.

"We'll follow you to the hospital" Kim replies to the blonde and the rest of the girls all nod in agreement, they would always be there for you at a time when you most needed it.

They were your family, and family never turned their back on another.

[publicaccessgirl]

This is a genuine question: how does it feel knowing you're the object of so many people's dark fantasies? Is it always enjoyable, or do you sometimes need to step back for your mental health?

Also... do you have any words for someone who has enjoyed cnc roleplay, but has also felt guilty afterwards? I know it's all pretend and consent was given, but it still feels strange to act cruel for my own pleasure...

Idk, this is probably too serious of a question 😭

I don't tend to think about it the rest of the time tbh. I'm quite good at compartmentalising. Im logged out of this tumblr most of the time, and I delete my selfies after I post, so there's not many reminders in my general life that I whore myself so eagerly here. So like maybe that's stepping back for mental health, but it's more like I only step into the role when it's hot for me. There's no need to genuinely challenge myself, I'm just having fun too

In terms of the dark fantasies themselves? I feel brilliant. I love that people want to imagine me the way I imagine myself, which is, you know, post anal rape in an alley or whatever. I do block people who cross too much into forgetting it's fantasy, like one guy kept sending guesses of where I live based on photos and stuff and like, that just means I can't post freely. If I have to scrub edit everything for my safety and privacy I'll just stop posting. Like, there's nothing forcing me to be here putting risky things online. So that dumbass got blocked. But overwhelmingly people are happy to engage within the boundaries I set (which are broad! Threaten me all you like, respond to things I'm sharing on this blog! Suggest new things, who knows, I might be into it!) and that just feels very good

It's also hot as hell and I love the threats

Immediately post sex there's often a drop in endorphins so if you're just feeling bad right after maybe adjust your aftercare process. But if it's an ongoing feeling, I dunno. I have insane control over my emotions and processing. I feel things solidly but I also consider them and disregard emotions that aren't appropriate imo. Like, I can just drop excessive anger and formless guilt. I can't control joy or grief as well, those can take over, but I'm okay with that so I haven't worked to manage them. But I know that's not normal, and while it's handy unfortunately it leaves me as not a very helpful person to talk to about emotional regulation lol

Human society is strong cos we all have different interests. Different circadian rhythms, different muscle layouts, different motivations, different forms of learning, so on. It all fits together and compliments nicely.

People who have a vaso vagal response to seeing blood and get whoozy are useful in emergencies cos they walk away and call for help. If everyone just leapt into the fray, the news wouldn't spread. There's a positive spin to everything if you think creatively enough

Anyway that's a long sort of meander to say that I, as a sub, really really like that other people genuinely want to dom. It'd be so shit to feel like they weren't getting off on it! So yeah, thanks for being different. I appreciate it!

[sepublic]

           I ADORE how the show further confirms that glyphs, as a form of magic, rely more on communication? And how that pertains to Luz, Lilith, and Eda, who are all ND-coded, save Luz who IS canonically ADHD? Like… That scene where Eda realizes she can’t just mash her glyphs into one, how that’s compared to yelling a bunch of things at once to nature (AKA the Titan)… 

          Just that dawning understanding like she GETS that, she knows what it’s like to have an unresponsive teacher who isn’t patient. Who just tries to yell at her until she gets it. That whole scene gave me vibes of one teacher showing another how to handle kids, how to patiently talk to them in a way they can understand and comprehend, with gentleness and care, not brute force!

           And again, the idea that this trio of ND witches, they get it. They know how to talk to the Titan, because they know how to listen, to sit down and notice things in that way ND people can do. That it’s a certain wavelength, they know not to force orders or commands- 

          And it kind of reminds me of overstimulation? How mashing glyphs together can confuse the Titan, because it’s like a bunch of different noises at once? I’m saying this half-joking, but half-seriously, but is the Titan also neurodivergent itself?

           It’s just… VERY soft to me, how that whole scene was like Lilith and Eda learning to communicate with their OWN mutual student. And it’s funny, because the Titan, nature, it teaches them magic… But in a way, student and teacher learn from one another, as Eda has learned from Luz!

          It’s making my heart melt… I love it. It’s very gentle and just screams accommodation and learning to adapt to a kid’s needs, to be responsive to them. To avoid overstimulating, so you convey instructions in a way that makes sense and can be comprehended, one at a time…

           But also, just the idea of these witches using communication. How they can’t do things ‘on their own’, but that doesn’t make their magic any lesser for it. How this calls back to what Lilith realized in the previous episode, that it’s okay for her to ask for help… And it’s just a wonderful challenge to ableist rhetoric, that this form of magic that’s about collaboration, that isn’t based on the physical body, it’s valid! It’s perfectly good, and it’s okay to ask for help, be it from an Owl Tube or nature itself!

           Of course, this does make me wonder- If the way Lilith and Eda interacted with the Titan, with nature in this sense parallels an ND student being accommodated by a teacher… I wonder what this says about Belos? Whose coven system has huge ableist vibes, yet he claims he can SPEAK to the Titan, he can alter its geography in a way others don’t… 

          His magic is unique. Is he really listening to the Titan, the way Luz and Eda and Lilith do? Or is he like that cruel teacher, yelling and abusing it until it finally does what he wants? Or, maybe he does understand the Titan… Does it understand him? Is Belos communicating?

           With how the Titan’s body seems to distort and mutate into flesh, and become infected and wounded, like a cancerous tumor… Remember how Eda’s mashed-together glyph started uncontrollably growing, and consuming? What if everything to do with Belos is the end-product of that? Just constantly torturing the Isles until it obeys him through sheer force of will and uncompromising pain, until the Titan’s own body begins to distort in confused pain. Wildly growing and creating like that ice spell…

          We see with the Golden Guard how flesh can be transmuted into a sword. Perhaps this raw burst of magic, all at once, yields living material; Because living creatures were born from the magic of the Isles? Perhaps the purest form of magic creates life… And Belos has ‘mastered’ a way to essentially command and overstimulate the Titan to produce this raw magic, but in a way that is of course chaotic and disjointed, reflecting the agony and pain the Titan is going through. 

          The ‘noise’ that Belos produces, his ‘voice’ disturbs and twists and makes the Titan writhe until its agony becomes physical and distorts the very island itself… Which suddenly makes me wonder if Rayne the new Bard Coven leader will come into play, sound fits with music and Bard magic, but I could just be overthinking again.

[nagipops]

hiya can i request a shidou x reader fic where shidou falls in love with the reader but she is hesitant bc she still has leftover feelings for itoshi rin? the reader is the tutor btw u can ignore this if it's too hard 🦆

A/N: idk if this is classified as a love triangle but like 😭 this was fun and nerdy to write, so take it <3 note: this is for a fem!reader!

Electrons - Shidou Ryusei

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“And then you add that there to balance out the electrons!” You tapped the eraser end of your number two pencil to Shidou’s paper where the two of you were studying chemistry.

His face lit up with pride as he completed the last problem on the sheet. “Hell yeah!” he chucked his pencil across the room in triumph. “This shit is easy!”

You let a soft giggle slip out of your lips as you placed pens and pencils back in their proper place, watching your friend gleefully celebrate his success by punching a hole through his completed paper.

“Okay, Shidou, we’re done for today,” you sighed, brushing your hands together before turning to Shidou with a grin. “You’re really getting the hang of chemistry.”

A self-satisfied glint in his pink eyes, the blonde-haired boy sauntered over to you, grasping your hand with his large fingers as he towered over you. “Only because we have such good chemistry, hmm?”

You rolled your eyes and averted your gaze, failing to suppress the blush that crept up onto your cheeks. “Shidou.”

He hooked one slender finger under your chin, pulling your view back to him. “Hey, tutor lady. Who do you like?”

Your heart plummeted at his straightforward outburst. Who do you like?

Mouth agape like a fish underwater, you stammered, “W-whahuh?”

Shidou held your gaze intensely, daring you to respond.

“Wh-why are you asking me... that?”

He leaned in close until his pink eyes were merely centimeters away from yours. “Because I like you."

You blinked once.

Twice.

This couldn’t be real.

“S-shidou... stop that...” Your face flushed even deeper as you attempted to avoid his potent gaze.

The blonde in front of you furrowed his brow, pulling his suggestive smirk into an annoyed scowl. “Hmph.” Dragging his body away from yours, he huffed, “This is about your precious Rin-chan, ain’t it.”

Your stomach somersaulted at the name of your childhood best friend. “R-rin?”

Shidou groaned in frustration as he brushed past you to open the door to his room. “Yeah, your little boyfriend. I’ll kill that bastard!"

A bubbling melting pot of emotions flared in your chest at Shidou’s outburst. Was it guilt? Sympathy? Excitement?

The fact that he had called Rin your boyfriend made you feel... a flutter in your stomach, to say the least.

But then you were pulled back into the cruel reality where the boy in front of you had just confessed that he liked you. The boy you had been tutoring ever since the beginning of the school year. The boy you've walked home with after school every day and his room which you've spent more time in than your own.

You had really grown to like him.

"S-shidou, wait..."

The lanky boy paused in the middle of the doorway with his back facing you. "If you're gonna tell me you like him, just tell me now. I hate that eyelashed freak." His muttering voice wilted from the lack of energy that was almost always present.

Hesitantly taking a few steps forward, you moved silently up behind him until your face was nearly touching the center of his back.

Every nerve in your body was buzzing with anticipation as you lifted you arms to wrap around his torso, when—

Thump.

Your back slammed against the wall.

"Y'know spatial awareness is my biggest strength, don't you?"

Your mouth hung agape from both the shock and the sheer force of his arm pinning you to the wall. "I was just—"

"Can it. I'm gonna win you back from Eyelashes." Shidou's glaring pink eyes seemed to illuminate the dark room in a neon glow as he towered over you, tilting his chin downwards and letting his messy spiked hair cascade in front of his eyes. Slender, calloused fingers raked up your arms, raising every single hair on end, filling the air with an unbearably intimidating aura.

And then as soon as you blinked, Shidou was already striding out of the room.

Did you get home safe?

Was what the excruciatingly bright phone screen displayed as you squinted at it in the dark.

yeah, thanks rin :)

You've been staying out with him later now

he's gotten the hang of chemistry, so you won't be missing me too much from now on hehe

...

Tossing your phone face down onto your bedsheets as your childhood friend typed his response, you let out an exasperated groan into your cold palms.

Rin. Shidou. Rin. Shidou. Rin. Shidou.

One always had your back no matter what, had stuck with you through thick and thin, showed you all of his sides behind that cold, stoic demeanor.

The other had provided excitement and spontaneity, and every day was an adventure with him; each day you met up to tutor him, you were in for a new treat.

They were polar opposites from each other, yet they still held equal weight in your boggled mind.

Pressing the palm of your hand into your worried forehead, you groped around the dark for your phone before the incandescent blue light flooded the pitch-black room once again.

You're right, I won't be missing you as much any more.

Shit.

“Pop quiz!”

Your announcement was met with silence.

“Shidou, it’s our last day together, have some pep! Pop quiz!”

Siiiiilence.

Heaving a sigh, you lightly tapped his toned shin with your foot before folding your arms determinedly in front if your chest. “Shidou.”

The boy who had not spoken a single word to you during the entire walk home was leaning back in his chair, tapping away dismissively at his phone.

“Shidou, come on! The quiz is super fun, it’s only a few questions.” His eyes flicked over to you. “After you finish this, you can ignore me all you want.” You prayed he didn’t comply to the last part.

He raised his eyebrows interestedly, and you could spot the familiar spark flickering in his pink eyes once again. “A fun quiz? Never heard that one before.” He chucked his phone onto his messy, unmade bed. “Hit me!”

You shrugged. “Okay.” You smacked his shoulder.

“Ow, what the hell?!” Shidou grimaced, grasping at his stinging skin to soothe the pain before grabbing your own shoulder and pulling you into him with a smirk. “You’re gonna pay for that, miss.”

“Mhm. After this quiz.” You failed to hide your blush as a grin broke out across your face, and all of a sudden, you were laughing. With Shidou’s arms around your waist.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly. “So? Hurry it up so we can get outta here.”

You whistled lowly. “Whew, Shidou being enthusiastic about a quiz? Unheard of!” You slid out of his grasp and moved to the back of his chair, grabbing his shoulders from behind. “Okay, so… grab a piece of paper and a pencil.”

He reached his right arm behind you and plucked out a pencil from thin air, throwing a smirk over his shoulder. “Gotcha.”

“What the— Shidou! Okay, anyways. We’re going to test if you remember the abbreviations for the chemical elements, okay?”

“Pshhh, that’s easy!” He hollered, flitting his pencil rapidly back and forth between his fingers. “Go for it.”

“Fine.” Steadying his rocking shoulders with two calm hands, you named the first element: “Iodine.”

A single line appeared on his paper.

“Good. Lithium.” You waited for his hand to finish writing. “Potassium.”

“What is this, some first grade test? D’ya think I’m that stupid?”

You chuckled. “No, I think you’re very smart. Just keep going. Now, place an abbreviation for electron right there… Sweet. Now, the last one is…”

“Uranium.”

Your jaw fell onto the floor. “Wha—”

“Hah!” Shidou chucked his pencil into the air, jumping onto his feet in the blink of an eye. “I knew it!”

He snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you in so close to him that you could see the individual stitches of his shirt. You failed to hide your blush. Again. “W-What are you talking about?” You chuckled nervously as he stared you down. “I was just—”

“‘I like you’? In chemistry form?” A large hand grasped the back of your head, pulling right in front of his face. “Jeez, tutor lady, you really are a nerd.”

Your shock gave way to confidence as you challenged his potent gaze with your own. “Only for you I am. That took me hou—“

Your words were sealed off with fierce lips pressed to yours. It felt like freedom. It felt like passion. It felt like… like a piece of you that just wouldn’t fit in properly was finally set in place.

Like your electrons were finally balanced.

[static-fanatic-1]

Chrollo +PT Part 2 is finally out! I also figured it a name for the son, Akura. Enjoy! 7.7k words and it almost didn’t fit in the post RIP.

| Part 1 | 

~~~

"Eat lead Uvo."

"Already checked off the bucket list (y/n/n)."

God, you hated that nickname. "Don't test me." You growled, glaring back at your little boy with a silent message; 'You're in such deep shit once this is over'. You could see him physically gulp, and it only cemented the fact that despite being a pissy teenager, he was still the same, scared little boy you had taken in after the massacre. You almost teared up.

"Kurapika! Watch the road!" The woman yelped.

The blond swerved off the road, almost knocking you off and onto the dusty path beneath the car. "Kurapika," you began, "watch the road, I'll take care of anyone following us."

You could tell Uvogin wanted to say something, so you quickly dipped out of the passenger window and climbed onto the top of the car. The people in the second car stared at you through the windshield with pure fear in their eyes. You laughed to yourself, they must think you are a Phantom Troupe member. If only they knew.

You stood tall on top of the car roof, spine straight, shoulders back, chin up, you were ready for them to attack. You were ready to fight your old friends. You launched yourself off the roof and onto the second car, landing with your heavy boots and denting the car just as you did before, a little less damage though.

They were chasing you, you could see their forms driving a car with a new found vigor they lacked before. Machi was in front, her pink hair you used to love seemingly a bit darker, like it was drenched in so much blood it stained it darker. You locked eyes with her, and you could see the micro expression of her face. Brows lifting, eyes widening, she couldn't believe it was you. But it was, and you were preparing to take them down.

You flexed your fingers and soaked in the feeling of your terracotta gauntlets, preparing to tear down the entire canyon, but you stopped. A large blanket wrapping around the car they were packed in, though it did little to stop them. You saw them leave before it covered them, it seemed Nobunaga didn't make it in time. You chuckled at that.

Owl, the beast who worked for Jason's father, stood snuggly in front of the Troupe. He and the rest were as good as dead, this you knew, so you took the opportunity and shot out the lion heads on your gauntlets. They snapped as they flew through the crisp night sky and latched onto the sides of the canyon walls. With strength many didn't posses, you pulled harshly onto the chains and pulled down the stone walls. Stone, pieces larger than the car you stood on top of, came crumbling down to the floor, dust flying in the air. Your path was blocked, and hopefully the beasts would distract them long enough for Kurapika and his gang to gain enough distance.

You took a moment to look up, the beautiful night sky full of stars and constellations you couldn't find in the city. The shinning stars reminded you of a time where sitting around a trash fire with the pre-Troupe was normal. It used to be kind, open, and free. Nothing but a blanket of stars above you to lull you to sleep.

And your village, oh how you missed being able to see the night sky as clear as day, untainted by ash and blazing fires. The children playing in the fields and catching fireflies as they tripped on rocks they failed to see. Laughter, warmth, and a sense of homeliness you haven't had in years. You missed it, you craved it, you wanted nothing more than to go back and change something that could have prevented the Kurta massacre.

Your (e/c) orbs soaked in the light of the stars while your hair whipped against your face. As much as you wanted to sit down and cry, letting all the pent up frustration and hatred out, you couldn't show weakness. Not even to the all seeing stars above, or the gentle wind, and especially not to the enemies that will tear you apart.

A ringing knocked you out of your memories, taking you back into a cruel reality you didn't want to partake in. "Yes?" You answered, phone close to your ear as you took one last look at the shinning stars.

It was Jason, his sweet voice filled with worry. "We sent Owl and the rest of the Beasts. What happened?"

You hummed in thought. "A few men caught one of the Troupe members, the most physically powerful. We are on our way back to York New, I would prepare a safe place to store him, if the poison from his body is taken, we are screwed."

"Is he one of the ones you could take down?"

"No, we got lucky. We have to be cautious about this one." You turned back to York New, the shinning city moving closer and closer. "About the Beasts... they are probably all dead by now. The man we are bringing in killed four of them I think, the rest are slowing down about five other members, they don't stand a chance."

"Shit," he breathed through the phone, distant mumbling being heard but nothing being deciphered, "what do you think will happen now?"

"I'm not sure, but the Troupe won't let one of their own be taken like this. They'll be back I'm sure."

"Okay, I trust your judgement. Take care." Jason hung up before you could say anything more.

You hoped nothing bad would happen to him. He was a nice guy.

Soon enough you finally decided to sit down on the roof of the car, the city skyscrapers finally looming above and warning you of the upcoming confrontation you will have to partake in. Uvogin would be a difficult one to deal with, he tended to boast with his headstrong attitude and you were worried about him escaping. And Kurapika... what were you going to do with the boy?

You sighed, the car quickly coming to a stop. Finally, the people under your butt, rushed from inside the car and stared you down. "Who-Who are you?!" Questioned one panicked man, his skin a sun kissed brown and eyes as rich as chocolate.

"A friend." You hopped off the car and in front of the small group. "I am a friend of Kurapika, don't worry, I'm not a Troupe member."

They all seemed to relax a bit, but stayed wary of your strength. Being next to you they could tell you were way beyond their league.

Kurapika emerged from the car and readied himself to contain the one-man-army. One man, with gray hair and markings along his cheeks, scurried over and held the blond back. "Wait, we need to get a room."

"A friend of mine already has one for us, you are to contact your boss and inform him of the situation at hand." You mentioned. "This, surprisingly enough, is the place."

"How can we trust you?" He exclaimed, turning and leaning forward in your face. "You could be one of them! Waiting to kill us!"

"Everybody, please calm down-" began the woman standing beside Kurapika.

"My employer is the son of one of the Ten Dons, Jason Nargal. I contacted him about the situation and I've been staying in touch. Frankly I'm not in the mood to argue with someone of the likes of you, so please, shut your damn mouth before I loose what's left of my temper." You snapped, moving closer to size the man in front of you.

He shrunk back, eyes wide with a fear he has never felt before. "Very well." He turned his attention to Kurapika and the other girl with heavy breathing. "Let's hurry."

~~~

You sat down, your eyes staring at the wall as your mind drifted off. You were worried, pissed, scared, and so much more. Footsteps brought you back to reality, your (e/c) eyes taking in the grey haired man from before. He glanced back before quickly looking away. "You aren't going to interrogate the Troupe member?" He asked.

"No, I have no reason to talk to him, at least not in front of any of you."

He hummed and moved to the desk, taking the phone into his hand and making a call. Time passed before Kurapika and the others emerged from the vaulted room, and your fury returned.

Kurapika could feel it.

"Kurapika, I would like to talk to you. Privately."

He glared at you, his dark eyes gleaming slightly under his contacts, like charcoal in a slow-roasting flame. Was he challenging you? Silently threatening you to let him finish the war he began?

Maybe, but that didn't matter to you. All you wanted was to talk to him about the situation. And the newfound plan you guys would have to make.

Maybe he sensed the lack of hostility you bore. It must have been as he nodded slowly and followed you out into the white hallways. "(Y/n)," he began with caution, "I won't stop. I'm going to finish what I started and you can't do anything about it."

You bit your lip and whipped around, smacking him across his face. "I know that! But warn me next time! I had to leave Akura all alone in a hotel room because you were the only person I could trust! You were reckless when engaging close to so many Troupe members! You could have died if they caught you!" You paused for some breath. "You could have killed everyone!"

Tears began streaming down your cheeks, you hands rubbing your face to help relieve the stress. It didn't help as much as you would have liked it to. "You left Akura alone." You repeated with defeat in your voice. "If they find out where he is... they'll take him from me. I-I can't let-let them take both of you from me."

Finally all the pent up feelings burst through your eyes, fat tears streaming silently down your cheeks. "I ju-just can't. I wouldn't be able-able to live with myself if...."

Kurapika stood frozen, all this new information hitting him at the same time as your cries for help made it all the more confusing. "(Y/n)... it'll be okay." He held you up by your shoulders, leaning down to stare into your tears eyes. "Akura will be okay, you'll be okay, I'll be okay. You and I will take down the Phantom Troupe and we won't have to worry about them anymore."

He stopped for a moment to think about your words. They seemed exact, different than just someone hunting for their eyes. What did you mean by your son would be taken away from you if they knew where he was? Wait, how did you know the name of the Troupe member? And how did he know an old nickname you used to have? "(Y/n). What are you not telling me?"

There was a deafening silence between the two bodies, but enough was said. "Kurapika-"

"Don't lie to me. You know something I don't." A pregnant pause was apparent. "Answer me (y/n), I don't have time to watch you cry."

You looked up, staring into violent eyes gleaming a beautiful blood red. "I'm sorry." You wailed, pulling yourself back into the wall with your hands covering your face. "I'm sorry I never wanted this to happen. I wanted you to run away from this, to have a family, to be happy! I never wanted you to fight my mistakes. I never meant for this to happen.

"I promised myself I would take care of them, I promised myself I would give you the best life you could hope for. I-I promised myself... and-and I failed." You shook your head with your hands hiding your shame, your voice cracking with messy sobs. "I'm sorry for bringing you into this, Kurapika. This wasn't meant to happen...."

He took a step back, you were crying—no—sobbing. Hiccups and sniffles wracked from your hidden face. This has never happened before. You never cried, not even once. He only saw one tear and that was when you found him at the burnt down village.

You were not sad, you were beyond devastated.

"(Y-y/n)... d-don't cry. Just tell me what you know. How did you know his name? How did he know you?"

"I knew them, I met them when I left the village. I would visit. I-I taught them nen because they were struggling out there. I didn't mean for them to attack us, but they did and I tried to stop them, but I was pregnant and-and I killed one. I ran because there was too many. I was selfish, I-I should have fought. I was scared and...." Your strained voice trailed off into a distant whimper.

Kurapika stared at your shriveled form, a look of betrayal etched onto his brows. "You won't stop me. I'm going to kill every single one of them for what they've done and you are going to watch." He stopped his retreat, turning his head to give you one last glance. "I'll take care of everything."

"Kurapika, it's not worth it. Please just leave this to me, let me fix my mistakes! Take Akura and go somewhere safe! Please!"

"Why should I?! You've kept so much from me! You knew them?! You trained them!?! Why should I listen to you— do what you want me to?!"

"They want me! They'll take Akura and kill you! If you're in their way you'll die! I don't want that to happen! Please! Take Akura and get out of here! Let me take care of this so you guys can be safe and happy!

"Let me fix my mistakes... please!"

Kurapika whipped around. "Why would they be after you? Akura?"

You dropped your head in shame, but straightened your back. It was time to regain your lost composure, you couldn't let anyone else see you like this. "The spider is flexible. They-they have a head and legs. Each one can be easily replaced, that is how they work. Their current leader, the spider's head, is-is Akura's father. We-we got along, and-and one thing lead to another and... well, Akura was brought into the world. I tried to hide him, but with him being alone it wouldn't be difficult for them to find him. God, I don't know what I would do if they got their hands on him."

You pathetically gave an airy laugh at your memories. When you gave birth it was loud, like static in your ears, painful, though you barely remember it. Then you heard the beautiful sound of a babies cries. You were beyond happy when you heard his first cries, and it seemed as if all of your problems drifted away for a moment.

But like everything in your life it was short lived, and when you stared up at Kurapika you forced yourself to gather the remaining pieces of your strength and move forward. That is what you had to do, again and again.

"I'm sorry Kurapika, I've failed everyone."

The blond stared at you with bloody eyes, it was your fault? Everything that happened was your fault?! You were supposed to be a guardian, someone to protect the clan, yet you killed everyone?!

"Yeah, you did." He spat, his back now facing you.

"Wait! Kurapika! I-I don't care what happens me! Just please—please take care of Akura!" Your voice was demanding, the first time it had been since you broke down. "He doesn't deserve the life he has, neither do you, please, if anything happens to me, take care of him."

He didn't answer, instead he turned away and marched back to Uvogin's cell.

You prepared yourself for being in front of the wolves, but a ringing from your phone stopped you. "Hello?"

"(Y/n), father wants you to come back, be a body guard since the beasts—are you okay? You seem to be breathing heavily?"

"Don't worry, I'm fine. Just a bit frustrated." You have a long sigh and straightened your back. "Everything seems to be on lockdown over here, they have men coming over in a few minutes. Where do you want me to meet you?"

"Is the Blue Sapphire Hotel good? I can have someone pick you up?"

"No, no, that's not necessary. I'll be there soon."

"Alright, I'll wait in the lobby for you. See you soon."

He hung up and left you to your own devices. You finished fixing yourself up and sauntered over to the last person here, the man with markings under his eyes. "I'm leaving," you started, "my employer wants me to guard them now that the beasts are dead. You'll be fine here right?"

He looked up and nodded. "I'm waiting for another call."

"Alright, call me when they take him and what they look like... just in case." You made sure he understood with another nod before you made your way out of the hotel.

Your dress was slightly dirty, and your feet still bare. You probably looked strange, a woman with disheveled hair, missing shoes, and a dirty formal dress. You received many stares, some because of your intimidating stature, or your exposed cleavage, and some because of your appearance. So you ignored them and kept your head high.

But if you didn't ignore the stares you would have noticed the small group staring at you longer than most. Their suits and wigs might have hidden them from most people, but you would have noticed them right away. Phinks and Nobunaga turned to confront you, but Machi held them back. "Now's not the time, we'll get her after Uvo."

"Tch, fine. Isn't Shal looking into her employer?"

"Mhm." Machi hummed, continuing to their mission at hand; saving Uvogin's reckless ass.

~~~

Uvogin waited for what seemed like a god awful amount of time. Sooner or later they would get him out of this stupid prison. Hopefully sooner rather than later, his ass was beginning to hurt.

As if on que he heard movement, blood splatter, and the creaking of the heavy metal door. "Took you long enough, I'd thought you'd never make it."

Phinks entered with a grin. "Yeah, yeah, had to stop by the vending machine on our way up here."

Uvogin's grin stretched across his face as the rest of them entered and tossed away their disguises. "You wouldn't believe who I met." He chuckled.

Shizuku, with her doe like eyes wondered over to his wound, summoning her Blinky and preparing to take out the venom from his veins. But it was Nobu who spoke up. "(Y/n)." He exclaimed immediately, almost excitedly.

Uvo's grin turned into a playful pout. "Way to ruin it Nobu." 

She simply shrugged and began to remove the poison, as Nubonaga laughed.

Machi 'tsk'ed and moved over to the table's side. "You should hurry up and get out of those cuffs. We're going back to the chapel to figure out a new plan."

Uvo huffed and tore his hands from their bindings. "Fiiiiiine." He groaned, pausing when realizing her words. "A new plan?"

"Yup, Feitan tortured that Owl guy so we already have some of the treasure. Besides, (y/n) could be a problem." Phinks chimed in with a mischievous grin. "You now she's much stronger than before right? You can tell just by passing her."

"Maybe she made a new condition with her nen gauntlets?" Nobunaga chimed in. "Do you think she would do that?"

Phinks hummed. "She never liked the thought of making conditions. She probably just trained to get more powerful, that's more her style."

"Anyway, we should hurry and head out, Chrollo is waiting."

~~~

You marched into the lobby, the crystal chandelier above drenching your body in a warm, ethereal glow. The pearl earrings you wore gleamed like small balls of Fire against the light, it complemented your (h/c) hair.

Jason saw your confident form, his thin lips stretching across his face into a gentle smile. "(Y/n)! I'm glad to see you're alright!" His long legs helped him scale the lobby floor to face you. "We are on the top floor, follow me."

"Who is up there?"

"Everyone from the dinner, they have a lot of questions for you, so be prepared." He lightly chuckled, though it seemed a bit strained.

The both of you entered an elevator with a large mirror on one of the walls. You took out your phone and frowned, still nothing from that grey haired man from earlier, were the people really late? Your mind drifted back to Kurapika, your brows furrowing at his resolution about killing the Troupe.

"You look distracted." Jason commented, his voice heavy with concern.

"Sorry, I just have to make a few calls."

"Oh, with who?"

You glanced over at him with a sly grin. He blushed at it, realizing how nosy he must sound. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"It's fine, I just need to check up on a few people. My son for sure, I need to make sure he's okay."

"Y-you have a son?" His words were confused and surprised. "I-uh-I didn't know you-you had a son. Um, how old is he?" His smile was lopsided, and nervous. He hoped you didn't think he judged you off of your past relationships.

"He's six, going seven later this month. The twenty-third."

"He sounds like a nice kid, huh?"

You lightly chuckled at the thought of his intellectual nature. "Yeah, he really is a sweet kid. He's so smart too, loves puzzles more than anything. Words searches, sudoko, picture puzzles, he loves any and all of them. Loves reading too, his favorite is Father and I...."

"The father?" Jason inquired.

"Oh, he's out of the picture. He's—he wasn't a nice man."

Jason turned back to the mirror, his eyes tracing over your relaxed features. "I'm sorry to hear that. How is, uh, your son fairing?"

"Akura's his name. He never knew his father, it's just been me and a friend I see as a little brother." The elevator stopped, and it's shiny doors opened to a brightly lit hallway. "I guess we're here."

"Yup, there's plenty of rooms to make a call, but you should probably answer some of my dad's questions first. You might not believe it, but he can be quite impatient." His tone shifted to something brighter, a reflection of the whites of his eyes.

You entered the warm hallway and to the door. Before you could even touch the door knob, it swung open to reveal a cheeky grin from a familiar green eyed man. "Hey there sexy," His cheshire grin shifted to one of disgust when he glanced at his brother. "Jason."

"Jackson! Leave them alone." Exclaimed someone from behind the door. If the deep voice was an indicator, it was defiantly the dad.

"Sure thing." Jackson groaned and ran off into the giant hotel room. Well, more like a house, the place was huge!

"(Y/n), sweetheart, come in!"

Sweetheart? Did Jason's dad just call you sweetheart? You peeked behind the door and yes, it must've been the father as his smile was barely covered by his beard. He was sitting next to Manchile, in which looked extremely entertained with your expression.

"Well, come on in." The broad man giggled as he threw his arms over the back of the couch.

You glanced over to Jason, a deep blush spread across his tanned cheeks. "Sorry about that." He whispered and further apologized through his hazel eyes. "He might be going crazy."

"Well, (y/n), we have a few questions to ask if you don't mind." Manchile began. "Like what the hell happened out there?"

You fully entered the room and sat on one of the plush chairs off to the side. "There isn't much to say, by the time I got there most of the men deployed her already dead."

"How many Troupe members? You said seven right? Or was it five?"

You crossed your legs as Jason sat across from you, his green eyes shinning with curiosity. You paused and counted, there was Franklin, Uvo, Machi, Shizuku, Nobu, Phinks, and Feitan. "There were seven, one was caught, and five chased after us. After that the group I was with got away because of the beasts... and now we are here."

"Did the Troupe member say anything?"

"No, he was admit on keeping his mouth shut." You glanced down at your hands, the phone you bought earlier this week blank. Where was that call? "May I make a call?" You blurted. "It has to do with the captured Troupe member."

Jason's dad shrugged and waved his hand. "Go ahead, put it on speaker so we can listen in." You nodded and made the call. It rang. And rang. And rang. And stopped.

You looked at the number you typed, it was correct so why didn't he answer? The entire room was dead silent, so you tried again.And again. And again.

Each missed call brought a disgusting taste to your tongue. Everyone must have been able to taste it, there was a collective shaky breath between everyone in the room.

"So, what do you think happened?" Jared, Jason's younger brother, asked. "Why aren't they calling?"

You stayed silent for a moment, doing your damndest to make up an excuse, but that wouldn't do any good. "He-He's probably dead. They probably found Uvogin and saved him."

"Uvogin?"

"The Phantom Troupe member we caught." You quickly said.

Manchile sighed and fiddled with his shiny watch. "All the beasts are dead, the treasure was taken, and we lost one of our leads. This night has truly gone to shit."

The father hummed and leaned back in his chair. "We can't leave, it would make us look like cowards."

You glanced over at the two and closed your eyes for a moment to breathe. "I need to make some other calls, is there a room I can step into?"

Jason stood up this time with a nod, and motioned to a room off to the right.

"Thank you." You stepped in, shut the door, and locked it. You let out a shaky sigh, your mind running a mile a minute at the thought of Uvogin being saved. "Akura first, I need to check up of him."

The phone rang a deathly chime, but it was picked up unlike before. "Momma?"

"Hey sweetheart, how are you?"

There was a displeased hum on the other side. "I was asleep, it's almost two a.m Momma. You should be asleep too!" Your little boy seemed too excited to have been sleeping, but knowing him he followed your rules.

"I know, I know. I've just been busy with work that's all...."

Jackson listened through the white door, his head pressed firmly against the wood so he could get a good angle. He chuckled to himself, his youngest brother, Jared, leaning in with a scowl. "We shouldn't be doing this."

Jason scoffed. "We have nothing else better to do, besides we are just helping Jason get his lady. Nothing too bad."

They listened harder through the door, and through the muffled speech they could clearly hear the word sweetheart again. Jared glanced up at his older brother whose face was confronted into a suppressed laugh. Quietly they moved away, and back to the seats before Jason came back with bottles of champagnes and wines.

He almost knew by the look on their faces that his younger brothers were up to something. "What are you doing?" He whisper yelled to them, eyes sharp with suspicion.

"Your girl has a boyfriend." He said, point to the door with an evil grin. "You have never had a chance."

Jason glared at his brothers, glanced at his father, and back to his brothers. "It's rude to listen in on other people's calls!" He snapped again, pouting his lips.

"Just saying."

"It was Jason's idea." Jared quickly commented.

"Hey! You didn't stop me, you're at fault here!"

"No!"

"Boys." The dad stated, bringing them to a stop. "Calm down, it was just useless fun."

"Why am I the only responsible one here?" Jason exclaimed, grabbing a small glass and pouring himself some red wine. "I remember when you used to control these rats, dad, now you've become one of them."

"Dirty old rat to you, squirt." He snapped, petting his beard with his free hand. "Dirty old rat king is more accurate, though."

"King?" Jackson yelped. "Yeah right, you're more like a squabbling peasant, dad."

"And you're a filthy stable worker, shoveling manure and getting the shit kicked out of you by my horses!" The father straightened his back, earning an eye roll from his eldest son. "And I'm no peasant! I'm a king!"

"Then at the very least I'm a knight." Chimed Jason, finally loosing up and getting into the skit. "Fighting the mighty dragon and saving the princess."

Jackson snickered. "But the princess is already betrothed off to another it seems."

Jason stopped and glared at his brother's antics. "She doesn't-she never said she had a boyfriend. She's just talking to her son probably." He huffed and pouted, sitting on one of the love seats and crossing his right leg over the other. "She said she had a friend too, but she thinks of him as a little brother."

"She has a son?" Manchile asked, he was listening in on the conversation the entire time for shits and giggles, if he was a rat he would defiantly be an emperor, he thought.

Jason nodded and took a small sip of his blood red wine. "Yup, sounds sweet too. She really care about him. I think his name is Akura if I'm not mistaken."

"That's a cute name." Butted in the Dad, pouring himself some sparkling champagne. "Sounds almost Kurtish, don't you think Manchile?"

He hummed. "Almost? Not quiet sure, there's a lot of strange names out there."

"Guess so."

All eyes stared at the opening door, your figure drenched in the warm lighting of the room and your sleek black dress hugging your curves like a glove. You still haven't gotten your shoes back on, and instead wondered around without any protection. Maybe you just forgot about it? Maybe you simply didn't care, either way when you walked into the room it quieted down.

"Welcome back." Jackson teased. "You have a son huh? Who's the lucky guy?"

You visibly stiffened and eyed the men in the room. Did they know? No, they couldn't know. There's no way they know, right? "There-"

"Behave yourself Jackson, prying into other people's lives is rude." The father scolded. "Don't pay any mind to him, sweetheart, he never knows when to shut his trap."

"No, it's-its fine. There is no lucky guy, he's long gone by now."

The dad gave a gentle smile. "My wife died a long time ago, I know how it feels." He lightly laughed, though a deep sorrow hung heavy in the air. "I had to take care of these brats on my own for what? Fifteen years maybe?"

"I'm sorry for your loss." You empathized with him, a single parent taking care of their kids is something you knew all too well. Loosing someone you loved, was also something you understood. The difference is you hated the person you loved, and you wanted to move on after you served judgement. You doubted he wanted the same thing. "It's hard taking care of a kid on your own, but three? And one of them being Jackson, I'd go insane."

He laughed, Jackson giving a playful glare. "Damn straight. He's the worst."

Jackson moved closer with a hurt expression. "Seriously? Throwing me under the bus in front of a pretty girl?"

"You're not her type!" Argued Manchile with a booming laugh. "There's no way!"

"Oh come on, I'm everyone's type!" He shuffled to your side and threw his arm over your shoulders. "More so than lover boy over there, eh?"

You couldn't help but smile, oddly enough this group of mafia men felt like family. This was always your problem, you always wanted to trust and care for people, but it always ended poorly. If you started to care for these people, you would loos them just like your past family.

But you couldn't help your nature, so you gave a small chuckle and shook your head. "No way. Defiantly not my type."

He whined and put his weight on you, surprised when you held him up like the child he was acting like. "Come on! I'm lonely and I need a girlfriend!"

Jared scoffed. "You're the one who sleeps with so many women you could be the next Genghis Kahn!"

Jackson blushed and let you go. "That sounds horrible."

"Yeah, it is." Jared finalized, sitting down and propping his gin up with his hand. "Besides, I think Jason called dibs."

Jason's face flushed a deep red when you glanced at him and his eyes flashed with embarrassment. He opened his mouth and quickly shut it.

His family laughed at him. "He's embarrassed! Poor boy has fallen hard if he can't admit it!" Cackled the father. "Interested?"

You rolled your eyes with a sly grin. "That wouldn't be wise, I have a lot of enemies you wouldn't want to deal with."

"Enemies? We're part of the mafia, the top of the mafia at that! We can make sure no one will touch you or your son." The dad mentioned, seems he's taken a real liking to you, and when you glanced at Jason, you could see a glint in his eyes. "Seriously, nothing could hurt you."

"You'd be surprised, money and guns are useless against some people."

Manchile decided to speak up. "Like that Uvogin guy? I sent out a lot of my men to take him down, and even more guns, but now they are dead. Are your enemies like him?"

The dad cocked his head to the side, his smile sinking into a slight frown. "Is the Troupe your enemies?"

You tended up, and their eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry?"

"You mentioned before that our best is nothing compared to them, and every time you talk about them there seems to be familiarity in your voice." He leaned forward on his chair, discarding his now empty glass to the side table. "You said you were hunting them down, and your son's name, sounds Kurtish to me. By any chance, are you a Kurta?"

You stayed silent, there was no way you gave him that many hints... right? Did you get so comfortable that they figured it out? Will they kill you? Use you as bait? Your son? "That doesn't matter."

"It does, it means you are probably being hunted. It means you are extremely valuable, your son too if he has your genetics. Besides, if you have information about the Troupe that no one else knows about, your value just increased immensely." He stood up and straightened his open suit jacket. "It's a hobby of mine to research and figure out the value of things, an appraiser if you will. Kurta eyes are an interesting story no doubt, gouged out by the Troupe and resold around the world." He sauntered closer, his bulky form and commanding tone making you feel so small. "What do you want me to with this information?"

"Leave it six feet under where it belongs." You gritted your teeth and took in a deep breath.

"I can arrange that for a price." He paused and you nodded for him to continue. "I want you to tell me what happened, I'm more curious than I am greedy."

You gave a small laugh and crossed your arms against your chest. Your focus shifted to another as you recounted things you wished to forget. "You wouldn't want to hear it."

The dad stared down at you and placed a heavy hand on your shoulder. When you looked into his eyes you saw a stern, yet sympathetic expression. His beard shifted, and his lips curled into a small smile. "Humor me."

You shouldn't trust them as much as you do, but you missed having friends. You missed people... so you spoke forbidden memories. "The Kurta lived on an island away from others, we are usually feared because of our eyes, so we isolated ourselves." You sat down beside Jason and leaned onto your knees. "My father was the leader of the village, and when I took my exam I passed with flying colors."

"Exam?" Jared interrupted.

"Yes, it's something us Kurta's do to get ready for the outside world. I mentioned how people fear our eyes, so the exam is a written test about other places, and a physical type exam. We would leave the village and do a simple task, if we feel strong emotions our eyes would turn red, if it happened once you would fail and have to take it again. It is for safety."

You watched him nod and continued. "I was always good at keeping myself together so when I took the position of guardian, it seemed appropriate that I could leave the village and explore the world. I trained and learned from many people before finding the Troupe... I took pity on them."

You leaned back and sighed. "I taught them nen and befriended them. Years and years of jumping around from my village and the outside world and I found myself falling for one of them."

"Wait," Manchile stopped you. "are you implying your son, Akura, is one of theirs?"

"Their leader... we got close." You let the new information sink in. "They didn't know, I was barely seven weeks pregnant at the time of the attack. My village, my family, slaughtered like lambs. I killed one and ran away. I was terrified and didn't know what else to do.

"I don't know why they did it, but it happened and I've been on the run since. Akura doesn't know, I'm lucky he's never questioned it, but I'm running out of time. If I don't start taking them down I'm worried Akura won't be safe anymore."

"Are they searching for him?" Manchile asked.

"They don't know he exists, but they are crafty."

"Where is he?" The Dad now asked, his brows furrowed in thought.

"A friend was supposed to watch him, he's one of the only people I can trust... but he left to fight the Troupe. Akura is alone in a hotel room not too far from here."

"What do you think we should do?"

"I don't know, whatever you do be careful. I'm not going to stop now either. I'm not quiet sure if you can, but assassins might be your only bet."

Jason worriedly glanced at you, looking for your gaze to share a thought. "Are you okay?" He whispered, you nodded without looking at him.

The dad stepped closer. "What kind of assassins?"

You hummed, Meteor City assassins might be the best. They have similar upbringings so maybe they can garner sympathy? Probably not, but maybe they'll stand a chance. "Assassins from Meteor City are probably your best bet but.... you might need the best of the best if you can afford it."

"You don't mean—?"

You interrupted him with a nod. "They might be strong enough to take some of them out."

Jared yelped and stood up. "Might?! They're the fucking Zoldycks! They can kill anyone!"

"Just to be safe, I genuinely think they are the only ones who stands a chance."

Jason turned back to you with a questioning look. "And you? You can't go out there and fight them! You have a son to take care of!"

Now it was your time to stand, back straight, gaze stern, a look you've dressed yourself in on the regular. "More reason for me to go. I'll meet up with my friend and join you for the next auction. I suggest you stay away from the other mafia dons, if you hire the Zoldycks you can never be too careful."

"Are you sure?"

You nodded with conviction. "Yes... and I'm joining the hunt."

~~~

Chrollo sat down on a large pile of rubble in a broken down church. The moonlight sleeping through the crumbled down ceiling illuminated his pale features and framed his coal black eyes. In his calloused and used hands laid a book that stole his undivided attention, and to his side a small candle with a flickering light.

His ears picked up distant voices, though he didn't care enough to look up. Instead he listened in as the voices neared the building.

"Uvo!" Chimed Shalnark, waving as he covered his playing cards. "How was prison?"

The large man grumbled under his breath and placed his hands on his hips, the few beer cans he had falling to the floor. "Shut it, besides I need you help finding someone."

The blond hummed in question. "Sure."

Pakunoda stopped messing with her nails and stood up. "What happened?" She asked, glancing at the group.

Phinks spoke up before the others could. "(Y/n)'s here. She must be working alongside the mafia."

Shizuku sighed loudly and sat down on a rock. "Who is (y/n) anyway?"

Nobunaga clicked his tongue with a defeated sigh. "We told you on the way here!"

"No you didn't."

"Yes, we did!"

"No you didn't!"

Franklin butted in. "It's not worth it."

Feitan explained. "(Y/n) is Chrollo's old girlfriend."

"Huh?" Exclaimed Shizuku, her doe like eyes gleaming. "You have a girlfriend Boss?"

Chrollo finally decided it was time to look up from the word filled pages of his book. He gave her a smile. "I had one, she ran after the Kurta massacre."

Phinks returned to the conversation. "If she's working with the mafia, she might be a hunter. Shal, you are a hunter right?"

"Yup!" He happily chirped, pulling out his phone and typing away. Uvogin moved over to him and mumbled a few words. Some time passed before Shal exclaimed loudly.

Chrollo glanced at his expectingly, and everyone seemed to hold their breath. "Oh! She's a hunter, and her employer is one of the sons of a don. I was curious so I decided to look into her call history, you know for science, and you wouldn't believe what I found." He paused for dramatic effect. "She made a call to someone in a hotel, not an employer, but a kid!"

"A kid?" Nobu wondered, scathing his mustache with his index finger. He paused, finally realizing what a kid would be doing with a hunter. "Boss, did you and (y/n) ever... uh... you know?"

Chrollo smiled at the thought of you, and he finally closed his book and stood from the rubble. He sauntered over to the entrance of the church, the moonlight bathing him in an ethereal glow. A few minutes passed as he stared at the moon, waiting for Shalnark to give him the location. His other plans could wait, he wanted to meet the kid on the other side of the phone. If that kid is your own, which it seemed likely, he could use it to get you back and keep you with his permanently.

"Found it! Somewhere in the Marina Hotel... the call was sent to room 443 on the fifth floor, west wing."

"Shal, Machi, Paku, I want you to come with me. We are going to collect what is mine." His dark eyes held conviction, and nothing would stop him from getting what is his.

[princessofgayskull]

Hi sunflower, what's your thoughts on T Swift's Betty being a catradora song???

Me, taking a break from spop to focus on my mental health and setting better boundaries:

Me, reading this ask:

This ask woke me up from like a deep, sleeping beauty type slumber, not joking. I don’t get asked to talk about Taylor Swift often, despite being a fan of hers since I was nine years old (I’m 22 now *wink*) and we are about to find out why. But I pride myself on taking any fiction piece of media I interact with and connecting it somehow to Taylor Swift. I can do so to varying degrees of success (usually depends on the ships and romance of the world) but there are so many songs of Taylor’s that have just fit Catradora so well for me, both in and out of canon. 

Some of my favorite examples: out of the woods (AND IT KEPT ME UP AT NIGHT WHEN NOELLE SAID THIS WAS HER TAYLOR SWIFT SONG FOR CATRADORA LIKE GAH CASUAL TS LISTENERS WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND) bad blood, lwymd, don’t blame, dancing with our hands tied, the archer, breathe, you’re not sorry, the way I loved you, forever & always, should’ve said no, safe & sound- I could go on.

But I won’t because I wanna stay on topic and talk about betty. Now I have a number of songs from the folklore/evermore series that are for me catradora songs (we’ll get to that in a minute) but this one is… challenging. Because I could be like “yes, because [insert casual reason here]” or “no, because [insert casual reason here]” but I can’t because Taylor feeds her children well and there’s several aspects of this song I feel like should be considered.

This biggest one to be considered, for me, is the love triangle aspect. Folklore features at length the betty/james/Augustine love triangle, each of them having one main song on the album from their POV. Betty's is cardigan, augustine’s is august, and james’ is betty. (also I’m going to throw out the gender component for a second; I know taylor says that Betty is about a guy’s apology and I totally vibe with her reasons why she wanted to write a song about a boy apologizing BECAUSE HOW GREAT WOULD THAT BE?) The love triangle makes the application of Catradora iffy at best. Because it’s like, who would be who? I am going to go out on a limb and assume that you’re seeing Catra as James? I think that personality wise, Adora as Betty and Catra as James is not a stone’s throw away from fitting actually really well. Adora’s canon journey is one of coming to realize “I know what I want and I know that it’s okay to want it” and a big part of Catra’s arc is her being like “Well shit… there goes my plans. Kind of feeling like a dumbass rn” especially in s4/s5. 

(That s4/s5 distinction is important; I’ll show why in a second) 

But for me, there’s no augustine. Or one that’s obvious anyway. I never imagined that either Catra or Adora dated or even had any inclinations with anyone else during the five season run- that’s just my personal opinion, people are completely welcome to feel free to disagree. I don’t think Catra acted even out of distraction with Scorpia or DT, and I think Adora was so focused on being She Ra that when she wasn’t thinking about failing/abandoning Catra when she alloted time to do so, she was thinking about the crushing weight of her responsibilities. So you know, not that much time to get back out there. So I rule out what causes James to apologize in the first place- cheating.

Side note about James cheating- I’m pretty sure Taylor confirmed this, in the long pond studio sessions doc, when she’s telling Jack Antonoff (MY BOY JACK) and Aaron Dessner ( GRAMMY AWARD WINNING KING) that James “was a fool!” And James did sleep with Augustine as confirmed in august, but cardigan makes it seem like he was definitely dating Betty before the summer. Maybe Taylor took inspiration from friends and they “were on break.” I also believe that the kiss in the Heart is the first kiss, that Catra and Adora were never ‘together’ together before Adora found the sword and defected (again, that’s just an opinion, but Adora just looks so wonderfully gobsmacked), so…

We can rule out cheating, and I think we can accomplish this and still reserve the essential meaning of the song of “I did something wrong, I see that now, I apologize for doing it, and I still love you” by widening the lens of what the “did something wrong” was (or “did something bad” you know *wink*). In that wider lens really you could fit either Catra or Adora into the song, but I’m still going to assume Catra is the James in this scenario based on how much of her redemption arc is formed around her refusal to say sorry and then eventually doing so. Of course there is no standing your porchlight but rather standing while wrestling a bunch of murderous clones…. Hmm….

But there are some stupid friends! I wholeheartedly believe Catra is James because of the dissing of Betty’s friends. That’s what Catra does to Bow, Glimmer and the rebellion et al., for most of the show and by the end of s4 she has no friends for Adora to even mock (terrible and cruel of me, I know, but it’s true). Also I know people are like “he called her friends stupid and then expected betty to take him back?” but I scream sing the line “WILL YOU KISS ME ON THE PORCH IN FRONT OF ALL YOUR STUPID FRIENDS?” every time. It brings me serotonin. 

Along those lines we can ask “Who’s Inez?” in this situation. When I think gossip no one from the show really comes to mind, well, expect for Double Trouble. But Double Trouble doesn’t ever speak to Adora about Catra. This happens vice-versa, and in Betty, James reveals that Inez told Betty he cheated on her. 

I want to say something controversial… Glimmer comes to mind when I think “who’s the Inez?” And this is based off of two things: 1) Inez’s closeness to Betty, and 2) Inez drags James out to dry, rightfully so. And when I think of that I think of Glimmer screaming “Do one good thing in your life!” directly in Catra’s face. James gives Inez a bad wrap in Betty. Not cool James. 

Of course there’s the pivotal, “would you tell me to go fuck myself?/ or lead me to the garden?” To me this a fun way of showing there’s vulnerability to what James is doing, so automatically I’m led to is the scene where Catra asks Adora to stay, or each time in s5 when Catra risks, basically an identity crisis to let Adora in how she really feels, but there’s always the potential that Adora could spurn her by not returning her feelings or rejecting her outright. 

I think the best argument that can be made for “is betty a catradora song” can really be encapsulated by the lyric(s): “the worst thing that I ever did is what I did to you” and “the only thing I wanna do is make it up to you.” That is what about the song SCREAMS Catra to me. And yeah, it could be argued that Adora hurt Catra pretty brutally (Shadow Weaver makes that point EVEN THOUGH SHE HAD NO RIGHT TO) that she messed up by abandoning Catra- but Adora feels guilt for... literally breathing. Adora is the quintessential embodiment of “pick your battles, no that’s too many battles, put some back,” but Catra picked one battle first and foremost (yes, she had a few others but this was the one) and that was Adora. Everything that motivated her was surrounded around a narrative of surpassing Adora for a multitude of reasons, and because of that she pretty much hurts Adora every chance she gets after Promise. Adora is really Catra’s first casualty, it makes sense that she has to be her first apology. And I think that after being vibed checked back to back by DT and Glimmer and realizing “oh hey fuck, I’m still in love with her” and then almost dying just to not die because Adora saves her, I think much of Catra’s motivation shifts to “how to do I get Adora to want to stay?” 

That’s my logic for how Betty could be a catradora song in canon. Now not all of my Taylor associations are with canon catradora, many of them do belong to uws catradora, because it’s a lot easier to apply the more modern details of Taylor’s songs to a modern au. The song Breathe is big that way. (it’s in Upper West Side, it’s the song Adora listens to and cries to after that first ride, I just never mentioned that it was taylor because my conditioned reaction to bringing up taylor is to have my head bit off with someone’s semi incorrect and slightly sexist opinion that I never, ever ask for) And this ask got me thinking about what it would look like if I applied not Catradora to Betty, but Betty to Catradora. What would it look like if Catra skateboarded and wore black lipstick, Adora wore a cardigan and they had homeroom together until Catra really messed up? What would it look like if they were seventeen when they admitted their feelings for each other instead of 21? What would it look like if they spent a summer fighting but dreaming of each other? What would their love story look like if Catra and Adora were in that town where Taylor envisioned this “same event that affected three people in different ways?”

I think it’d look something like this. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31141973/chapters/76952048

what do you guys think?

quick but INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT thank you to @gimme-tea-bitch for helping me with this, being my beta, and listening to me talk about folklore/evermore.

[pretoriafics]

Therapy sessions with the devil

I'd did this request yesterday on my Portuguese blog, and I thought that you guys would love it!

Anonymous asks: Y/N is a therapist who works for Vought and is doing a few evaluations on the Super.

Word count: 1.806 Contain: Therapist!Reader x Homelander Warnings: Mention of sexual violence, mention of serial killers, mention of cases of children with psychopathy, mental disorders. +16 only Versão em português aqui  PART 2 THE BOYS MASTERLIST

Your profession was gratifying.

You loved the idea of helping people, getting to know each other better, and getting them to learn to deal with life's challenges. For you, being a kind of "confidant", where people could talk about their lives without any judgments, was an honor and your purpose. You believed that it would make the world a better place.

However, it also had its burdens. Some things were difficult to hear, even for you with all your knowledge and professional background. Patients who suffered from sexual violence, for example, demanded of you a stomach that you were not always able to have. It was something you talked to your therapist about, and you kept a mantra in mind: After all, you were still human, and it was okay to feel that way.

And when Vought invited you to work as a therapist for The Seven, you went nuts. It was the chance of a lifetime!

Or, at least, this was what you thought at the beginning.

It was not uncommon for you to hear things that made your stomach a little sick, just like when The Deep told you about the way he “welcomed” Starlight. You felt nauseous but, on the outside, remained impassive, just watching him as a silent request to continue to talk.

All of them were, simply, not only media products but also puppets of the advertising world. You already had some political patients, and in fact, you thought The Seven was a similar case: Both went to that market with the intention, many times, to help people. However, they ended up corrupted in the middle of the road, forgetting their whole purpose in helping others.

You saw a point in common between The Seven: Everyone, with perhaps the exception of Starlight, was too worried about their own egos to be real heroes. They were all too narcissistic.

But Homelander was the worst of them.

The childhood phase was the most important part of a person's life. A traumatic childhood could lead to a troubled adult, as in the case of Mary Bell and Beth Thomas. Homelander's case was no different: his non-affectionate childhood, being raised as a laboratory rat, was the bigger reason to make him that kind of man.

Although at the same time you were fascinated about to study a mind like that - since one of the reasons why you did psychology would be to unveil the secrets of the human mind - each therapy session was daunting and made you rethink your job at Vought.

In short, you were interviewing a serial killer. Easily one of the most cruel and unhealthy.

"Good morning, Homelander." Your voice was soft, just like the smile you gave to the super who just sat on the couch.

"Good morning, Doctor." He returned the smile to you, but the smile on his own way: The corners of your mouth pulled to the side in a smile that you recognized as fake.

"So..." You put your hands on your knee, looking at him with the best receptive look you could pretend. There, in that office, your sessions with Homelander made you feel you deserved an Oscar "How was your week?"

“Well…” He lay down on the couch, his blue eyes staring at the ceiling, and his hands joined in front of his stomach “Nothing new. In fact, he had a little incident with Maeve. Sometimes she is so… pathetic. ”

"What happened?"

It took a while for Homelander to actually get some confidence in you. In fact, he only started telling you things in detail when he realized he could get something out of the sessions. They were productive to him, they made him think. You didn't know if you were thanking God for getting something out of him, or if you should cursing yourself because of the horrors he tells you.

"Maybe you saw something about the 37 Flight on the news."

"The one who had been captured by the terrorists?"

"Exactly! Maeve and I had to rescue the plane. We managed to take down the terrorists, but when I killed the last one, in the Pilot's cabin, I hit the plane's controls with the lasers. And then, the flight was doomed. I told Maeve that our job was done and we should leave, but she was reluctant. He wanted me to save the passengers! ” He laughed, but a natural one. "Can you believe that?"

Oh, it was going to be a long therapy session...

"And what happened next?"

“What did she want me to do? That I fly 137 times from the plane to land? Ah, pathetic, pathetic! ” He shook his head, clearly humorous. "Now, just imagine: You are on a flight with 137 people shouting 'Help, Homelander!', While your stupid partner insists that you should do something to save everyone. I was losing patience so I threatened everyone with my eyes, and they finally settled down. I don't blame them, I mean, they are so vulnerable. They are bugs! ” He looked at you, the corners of his mouth pulled in a fake smile. "No offense."

Homelander was a cold-blooded killer. Not only, but like Ted Bundy, he was a narcissist. He liked the feeling of power that invaded his body when he saw that people feared him, and when he felt that he had the power to decide whether that person would live or not. He didn't mind if killing people just for fun was against the law. Homelander didn't care about the law or any kind of rules. Furthermore, just as Bundy believed he was fully capable of defending himself in his court's judgment and did not need lawyers, Homelander thought he was an incarnate God walking among the 'bugs', simply because he had powers.

"And how do you feel about Maeve?"

“She bothered me a little with the drama on the plane, but that's okay. I am sure that after I spoke to the journalists, near the wreckage of the flight, she understood. This is all going to be an excellent opportunity to make our presence in the army happen. ”

A sociopath.

Empathetic behaviors aren't part of him. He was unable to have that feeling. Self-centered, Homelander was unable to love. The relationship he had with Stiwell, for example, was far from loving. He didn't feel it, quite the opposite: Homelander had a feeling of possession with her. She was his, and nobody else's.

A doubt hammered in your head: Homelander was intending to drop the plane? Your stomach was upset, you felt bad about that therapy session. How could Vought leave someone like him in The Seven?

The answer was simple: They didn't care. Homelander was profitable, and that was all that mattered.

That was one of the times when you thanked God that Homelander was self-centered enough to lie on the couch and just think about your own life, instead of analyzing you and realizing that you were completely terrified. It was as if a misstep, a wrong word, was going to cost his life.

And you would end that today.

You conducted the therapy session normally. In the end, you shook hands with Homelander as you always did and closed the door. Tears invaded your face as you thought of each life that was lost in vain on that flight, and, worse, you were sure that Maeve would tell you about the flight at her therapy session, early next week. In an attempt to calm down, you took some coffee and sat down in front of your MacBook. There, sipping coffee, you wrote your resignation letter.

Alright. You were free.

Or at least this was what you thought.

 * * *

Another week has started, and the fact that you worked at Vought made you get a more comfortable office, in addition to increasing your service price. You were ending your day. Your last patient had left the office, and you were about to go home when you heard a familiar voice from your couch.

"I miss you in the tower."

Homelander looked at you with his pairs of sick blue eyes, his fake smile, and his murderous hands behind his body. He was standing next to the couch, and you felt your whole body freeze. A lump formed in your throat, and your hands vibrated in pure dread.

So he would kill you there? In your office?

Trying to take control of the situation, you faked a slight smile.

“Sorry, Homelander. I didn't saw you here. Need something?"

"Actually, I do." He started walking towards you slowly. "I didn't want to end our sessions, so I came to ask you what our new schedule is going to be."

You narrowed your eyes.

"I thought Vought was going to hire someone else to work with The Seven in my place."

“In fact, they put an incompetent in your place. I really prefer that we continue where we left off. ” He stopped in front of you with his smile, his eyes emanating pure insanity "I like our therapy sessions."

“I'm glad that you like my job and that you appreciate our results, Homelander” You gave him a smile, but inside you were still in pure dread “But I don't have appointments available. My schedule filled up easily after I came to this new office. ”

“Oh, but I'm sure you can fit me in your schedule. I can pay you well. ”

How to say no to Homelander without putting your life at risk?

You walked over to your tablet, on your desk. You took it in hand and slid your finger on the screen, analyzing awhile. You didn't need him to tell you that you would be paid well. In fact, you were fully aware of that. The point was that you could exchange all the money in the world to be at peace, without having to deal with Homelander. Without much choice, you concluded that you would reserve a single day for your therapy sessions with him. That way, your head wouldn't get so tired when you still had to deal with other patients.

“Are you available on Friday morning? At nine."

He nodded, giving the same smile he did when he achieved something. One of pure contentment.

"Of course!"

"Great so." You typed 'Homelander' in the space corresponding to the hour. You put the tablet down on the table, next to your MacBook “There, it's done. Friday, at nine in the morning. ”

“Ah, perfect! Thank you. Have a good night."

"Good night, Homelander."

He walked over to your balcony. With a jump, he flew through the sky. You lay on your couch, terrified. Would you never get rid of him?

All that was left for you now was to be the therapist of the incarnate Devil.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Love is a Bundle of Contradictions.

This artwork was a piece I commissioned from @shimmeryspark​!

... There is no explanation for this other than my friends encouraged me to write Valentine’s Day Raven and Jade fluff, since the main saga is a bit lot of angst right now. (Special thanks to @twstpasta since they let me borrow their twstsona for plot reasons :9)

Imagine this...

“You WHAT?!”

“Ehehe~ Sorry...!! I guess I went and made a bad decision, heehoo~” Mac stuck out their tongue and lightly bonked their own head with a fist. “Silly me~”

“Making a deal with Azul is the very definition of a bad decision,” Raven groaned, slapping a hand to her face. “I... I cannot believe you. Dare I ask what the conditions were?”

“I gave him my taste buds! He said he’ll give them back if you help out with stocking up on supplies for the Mostro Lounge.”

“That’s... suspiciously simple. And you really just handed over your taste buds just like that? You can’t taste your beloved cheese anymore.”

“I know!” Mac pouted. “It’s so sad, so you’ll help this rataroni out, right?”

“I find it odd that Azul is demanding my assistance, seeing as how I am not the one that made the deal with him to begin with. However... I cannot turn my back on a friend in need. I will lend you a helping wing—er, hand.”

“Sweet, sweet!!” Mac clasped Raven’s hands happily. “Just remember to show up this Sunday afternoon. Meet up’s in the town square. Oh, and be sure to wear something cute!”

“Something cute? Why would...”

“It’s part of the deal—so you just gotta, okay? That’s what Azul said!” Mac paused, before adding, “Oh, oh! And bring some homemade choco in a heart-shaped box!! That’s another contract condition!”

“Oh... O-Okay...?”

Raven leaned back against a lamp post, anxiously winding a finger around the string of small pearls at her collarbone. In her other hand was a bag, and in that bag, a heart-shaped box of homemade chocolates—just as Mac had told her.

A silver heart-shaped charm dangled from the necklace, lying still against her real hammering heart. Rarely did she venture out into the local town—and, standing there by her lonesome, the raven felt out of place and awkward.

An addendum to a story that had already been penned.

She watched as her silver charm caught a wink of sun and guided the light down its curve. Reflected back in the charm’s surface was the raven herself.

Today, her inky hair was cast up in a high pigtail and secured with a cobalt ribbon. She had traded her usual outfit for a pale blouse with billowy puff sleeves, white stockings, and a high waist skirt in a plaid pattern—cobalt, like her ribbons.

I hope this satisfies the conditions of the deal.

Raven checked the time on her phone; any minute now, Azul would be showing up, and they’d get this over with. Then she could return to her attic to roost, and Mac could return to feasting on cheese and inhaling poison—

“Oya. Do my eyes deceive me, or is that you, Miss Raven?” a silken cadence called out to her, rising above the hustle and bustle of the town.

“... You,” she responded flatly, narrowing her eyes at a certain eel as he parted from a crowd.

Ah.

Jade, too, had abandoned his typical uniform in favor of casual comfort. He wore a pair of dress pants and a grey turtleneck—and over it was a brown trench coat, unbuttoned to show off how snugly that sweater fit against his lean, muscular body.

Raven squinted. His earring was slightly different today as well. Rather than three diamond shaped sturgeon scales dangling from his ear, there were heart shaped ones. Blue and glassy, like the calm sea after a storm.

His hands were polite folded behind his back... hiding something. Whatever that something was, petals of pink, red, and yellow-orange were poking out.

If she didn’t know any better, she would have said he looked handsome—and innocent—enough. But she did know better.

“What are you doing here?” Raven demanded, no longer playing with her necklace. Her hands went to her sides, curling into balls.

“Fufufu. The town is a public space. I am free to come and go as I please, the very same as you.” Jade tilted his head to one side. “Although today, I am here on an errand. The Mostro Lounge is short on centerpiece supplies, you see. I have been sent to restock.”

“What a coincidence. I’m also here to help the Mostro Lounge restock,” Raven said, a bit of bitterness slipping into her voice, “as per a contract.”

Jade attempted to appear sympathetic—but he allowed a cruel chuckle to escape him. “I see now. I was not aware that you were the one indebted to Octavinelle, Miss Raven. Had I known sooner, I would not have hesitated to summon you to fill in for Kon-san’s morning shift.”

“I’m not a waitress for you to order around.” Raven jutted out her chin defiantly. “I’m here strictly on business, so if you would kindly leave me be...!!”

“I believe you said you had to assist the Mostro Lounge. Would it not be prudent, then, to go about tending to that duty rather than standing about and looking like a lost lamb?”

“Sh-Shut up! It’s not my fault that Azul is running late...!!”

“You were waiting for Azul?” Jade said, his brows pinching together briefly. “You are terribly mistaken. It is not Azul who is assisting you with the restock, but myself.”

“... Beg pardon?”

Wear something cute, bring homemade chocolates, Mac had said. And it has to be you, Raven, not me! But why? Slowly, slowly... The pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

A thought dawned on Raven:

I’ve definitely been tricked.

“Well!! That’s all fine and dandy, but I think I shall be on my way home now. I really must be having a chat with a friend of mine,” she babbled, turning on her heel. They’re going to be buried in tomato sauce when I get to them.

“How cruel of you to abandon those in need, Miss Raven. And to think that Mac-san shall be without their taste buds... and I, burdened with the task of restocking by my lonesome. What a tragic way to spend Valentine’s Day,” Jade exhaled deeply and wiped at an imaginary tear. “Shikushikushiku...”

Raven’s left eye twitched. “Don’t you paint me as the bad guy here...!!”

“Aren’t you?” Jade challenged, a smile still plastered on his face despite his mocking tone.

“Grrr...!!” She whipped around, thrusting an index finger at him. “Listen here... Leech!! The only reason I am even here was to help someone out of a contract your shady boss roped them into!”

“If you are as selfless and loving as you claim to be, then you should have no issues with shopping with me,” Jade countered smoothly. “After all, they say that actions speak louder than words.”

The little bird vibrated with irritation, her cheeks puffed out in a pout. Her stomach coiled tight, uneasiness brewing. As much as she hated to admit to it, he was right.

Raven clenched her teeth and sent a glare his way. “Fine...!! But I will be keeping an eye on you to ensure that there is no funny business!”

“Then by all means, ‘keep an eye on me’, and do not let your gaze stray for even a single moment,” Jade chuckled, somehow sneering through his smile. “I welcome it.”

The eel held out a hand to Raven. “We’d best not be separated while on our errand.”

She stared hesitantly. Her eyes flickered between his eyes and the hand he offered. Subtle changes in her expression occurred in rapid succession—the raising of her lids, the tremble to her lower lip, the tinge to her cheeks.

“... Yeah. We’d best not,” Raven finally agreed, her grip on her bag—the bag containing her chocolates—tightened. “Which is precisely why I will follow you at a safe distance.”

“Ah, but that would ruin the surprise.”

“What, the bouquet? You’re not exactly doing a masterful job of hiding it.”

“Nor are you doing well to hide your little surprise, Miss Raven.”

“I was deceived. This chocolate is not meant for you.”

“I didn’t say that it was, now did I?”

“... I’m going to eat them myself, then. That’ll show you!”

“Do with it what you wish, for selfish purposes or not,” Jade laughed, revealing his bouquet—all the colors of the setting sun. “These flowers, on the other hand, are meant to be gifted...”

He pushed the bouquet toward Raven. Up close, the flowers seemed even more vibrant and beautiful. Their warm hues enveloping the raven, enchanting her senses. Mesmerized, she reached out to accept the flowers—when Jade suddenly clicked his tongue and pulled them away.

“But alas—not to you,” he teased, pressing a finger to his lips. “Do try to keep up with me now, Miss Raven.”

Jade turned and dove into a sea of townspeople, leaving a trail of sunset-colored petals in his wake. And, like the fool that she was, a fuming raven stormed after him—chocolates still in hand. Heart quivering.

Terrariums—the flowers were meant for terrariums all along.

Jade had taken his sweet time leading her down a winding path and to an art supply store tucked away in a corner, and even longer to observe the shape and feel of each terrarium container. Spherical, cuboidal, prismatic... Holding up the bouquet every so often to compare how the flowers would look in each.

In the end, he had gone wild with his purchases, electing to buy a selection of shapes, along with other supplies—just to keep himself amused. Jade had paid with a platinum card embossed with Octavinelle’s logo. Mostro Lounge Master Cash Card, it read. Azul’s property; do not steal! Sign the loaning form if you must borrow.

It was all for the terrariums, for business as usual.

I should have realized sooner. Stupid, stupid, Raven scolded herself.

She grunted, struggling to carry the bagful of terrarium supplies that Jade had saddled her with, while he carried one of his own without any trouble. The eel cast her a mocking glance over his shoulder.

“Are you in need of a break, Miss Raven?”

Bite me, she wanted to snap back—but a bark of pain shot up her arms, silencing her defiance. “... M-Maybe.”

He sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “Very well. I see a café up ahead. We can rest there for a few moments, though it may require the purchase of a food item if we wish for a table.”

“Sounds peachy.”

Together, they swept through the café doors. The duo was immediately greeted by the smell of sugar and the hum of the other patrons, many of them couples.

Raven stiffened at the sight, turning a deep shade of red. Suddenly, she was very, very aware of how she—and Jade—looked.

“I think I changed my mi—“ Raven was cut off when he grasped her hand and held fast. She jolted back, her skin turning clammy. “Eeep! Wh-What are you...”

“Table for two,” Jade requested of an employee. “We do not intend to stay for a large meal, so just an ice-cream parfait will do.”

“Certainly, sir. Right this way.” The server quickly seated them, and with a bow, departed to retrieve their order.

“... You can let go of my hand now,” Raven hissed, attempting to free herself. To no avail, initially. She tugged again, and finally broke free, aggressively rubbing at her hand to ward off the residual eel cooties.

Jade chuckled, tucking his strand of black hair behind his ear. His earring glimmered in the afternoon sunlight pouring in through wide windows. “Play along. You are aware that today is Valentine’s Day, yes?”

“Yes, but I do not understand what that has to do with... physical contact, especially seeing as how we are not engaged in that kind of a relationship.”

“It is simple.” He laced his fingers together, resting his chin on them. With the most serene of smiles, Jade purred, “We should take advantage of the couple discounts being offered at eateries such as this. An excellent way to save on spending, especially after that particularly large purchase made on the Mostro Lounge’s coin.”

“You’re a shrewd one.”

“Why, thank you.”

Raven’s hands curled in her lap. Her lips pursed, she found her gaze trained on the white lace of the tablecloth, rather than on her dining companion.

Time and time again, she has been tricked today, told white lies. Teased and deceived. It was simply how he was—and though it did irk her in some ways, it also never made a moment dull.

Hot and cold. Push and pull. Bitter and sweet. That was Jade Leech.

“Your parfait is here!!” The server from before popped up in her periphery, startling the raven from her thoughts. They set it down and stepped back. “Here you are—enjoy your date!”

“Thank you. We certainly will,” Jade reacted before Raven could and dismissed the server with a wave. “... Well, let’s dig in.”

“You didn’t correct them.”

“We won’t get the discount if they don’t believe this farce,” he replied calmly, nudging the parfait and a spoon toward her. “Now then, less talking and more eating. You need your strength if you plan on helping me haul all the supplies back to campus.”

She let out a huff, but dug her spoon into a frozen mound. The parfait was massive, composed of several scoops of pink, blue, and green ice-cream, flanked by chocolate wafer bars. With a smattering of sprinkles, a crown of whipped cream, and a maraschino cherry on top, the dessert looked absolutely picture perfect.

Raven steadily brought a spoonful of pink goop into her mouth, allowing a sweet bubblegum flavor to spread across her tongue. Her eyes cut to Jade, who had not bothered to sample any for himself. He smiled back, gaze half-lidded as if recalling a fond memory.

“Have some, too. I feel weird eating it alone—and you must be hungry too. I know how big your appetite is.” Raven pushed the parfait glass toward him.

“If you insist.”

The head of his spoon sunk into a green scoop with shards of chocolate chip weaved throughout. It pulled away cleanly with a large mound, which was soon consumed. Then another bite, and a third, a fourth... Before Raven knew it, a good third of the parfait was missing.

Jade patted his mouth with a napkin, eyeing her expectantly.

“Are you still hungry?” Raven asked, eyebrows raising. She retrieved a scoop of blue this time—vaguely flavored like a medley of fruits.

“Perhaps... though I do not plan on taking more of the parfait for myself. Were I to, there would be none left for you.”

The fruit seemed to sour in her mouth. It was true that she was hungry, yes—but at the same time, she did not wish for Jade to be left dissatisfied.

She frowned, setting her spoon down and reaching into her bag. Seconds later, she produced a heart-shaped package and shoved it at him.

“Here, chocolates. They’re yours now, since I have no other use for them,” Raven mumbled insistently. “You can eat them now, or save them for later. Just hurry up and take them before I change my mind.”

“Oya, it is rather bold to profess your undying love to me in such a public space.” Jade teased, chuckling lightly into his hand.

“B-Be quiet...!! We... We can’t get that couple’s discount if one of us passes out from hunger.”

“Fufufu. I doubt that either of us would.” His mismatched eyes twinkled with mirth. “... Thank you for the sweets, Miss Raven. I will be certain to savor every last bite.”

The town became even busier in the late afternoon, filing with the sound of street performers and spectators. A monkey in a vest and a small hat barreled by Raven’s feet as she and Jade exited the café, nearly causing her to double over. A chorus of children’s laughter chased after the monkey—and she, the raven, stumbled on her recovery.

“Perhaps now would be a good time to reconsider my offer,” Jade suggested, a hand on the small of her back to support her. That same hand trailed around and tickled the back of hers. “It would be a shame if we lost one another in this crowd.”

Raven regarded him with a pointed look, but slipped her hand into his without further resistance. “... Only because I have to.”

“Of course, of course.”

Together, they braved the bustling streets.

A new world unfolded before Raven’s very eyes. Costumed performers of all kinds paraded about, garnering attention from passerbys. Some tossed confetti and candies, others brandished instruments. Brass, strings, percussion—all their notes floated up into the festive atmosphere.

There went a dancer, leaping like a lithe deer, limbs outstretched and the flowy fabric of their uniform like a curtain of smoke. And here was an artist perched on a stool, sketching the outline of a woman posed on a wooden crate. A young man jingled a tambourine, trying to catch coins in his cap.

A number of food carts patrolled the roads, calling out their wares. Crepes, sandwiches, sodas... Families, friends, and couples lining benches, exchanging bites.

Love was truly in the air and oozing out of every pore of the community.

Raven couldn’t keep her head still. She turned this way and that, trying to soak up every last sight and sound. Her golden eyes sparkled with wonder.

Jade, of course, took note. “Excited, are you?”

“It’s very different than Night Raven College,” she replied shyly. “Almost like a magic kingdom.”

“Magic kingdom? You can be rather melodramatic at times.”

“Yeah? So can you and Azul and Floyd, with all your fake tears...” Her wandering eyes caught something bright red as she spoke. “Oh...!! Look.”

Raven tugged on Jade’s hand, urging him to a halt. Her gaze was transfixed on a lamp post with a multitude of red strings. At the other ends of those ribbons were heart-shaped balloons, as red as blood.

His eyebrows pinched together in mocking sympathy. “You truly are fascinated by the simplest things. Is it true what they say? That ravens are attracted to shiny objects?”

Her mouth flew open to protest, but she was interrupted by a woman by the balloon-bearing lamp post “You there!! Sir with the earring and ma’am with the blue ribbon! Care for some balloons?”

“Er... What are they for?” Raven asked.

“For love, of course,” the woman laughed. “Today’s all about appreciating one another, right? This is my way of spreading love.”

She separated three balloons from her bundle and offered them with a flourish. Raven eagerly accepted them, staring up in wonder at their floating bodies.

“Oh, and one more thing!!” The woman produced a red ribbon from her jacket pocket and nodded at the duo. “Your pinkie fingers, please!”

Raven held out her hand as directed, letting the woman secure the ribbon in a neat little knot. The balloon bearer extended the length of the ribbon, glancing to Jade. Raven, too, looked at him expectantly. Jade expelled a quiet sigh and allowed the red ribbon to be tied to his pinkie.

“There you go!” the woman declared triumphantly. “You’re all set now! Enjoy the rest of your Valentine’s Day, folks!”

“Thank you!” Raven shouted over her shoulder—even as Jade started to lead her away. The woman waved and waved until she was out of sight.

“... It has been a while since I have seen you this enthusiastic,” Jade remarked with a glance to the balloons. “I do suppose it is a departure from the monotony of daily life, but to think that such little things bring this amount of joy...”

“It reminds me of a story a little birdie once told me,” Raven chirped with a small giggle. “The story of the Red Thread of Fate.”

“Oh?” Jade raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“The Red Thread of Fate is said to connect ‘destined people’. It can tangle, twist, or stretch, but it can never break. From the moment you are born, you have an unseen thread flowing from your pinkie finger, tying your fate to that of the person on the other end,” Raven recited, her tone turning solemn—her storytelling voice.

“Someday,” she said, “you will cross paths with the one that shares your thread, and your lives will be forever changed by the encounter. It could be a meaningful battle between rivals, the loss of a loved one, the promise of marriage... but the course of their stories will never again be the same.”

“How sentimental. And what, pray tell, does this red thread of ours mean, Miss Raven?” Jade questioned, lifting his end of the ribbon—the crimson shining in the sunlight.

“How would I know? I’m not a god,” she huffed. “It’s just fun to imagine the possibilities.”

“It is, indeed. Even so, surely there must be one favored conclusion to the story of the Red Thread of Fate in that pretty little head of yours.” He brought a hand to his mouth, yanking Raven toward him.

She glanced up with a glare. “I’d have to have a bird brain to tell you that.”

“Is that not the duty of a storyteller? To stand on stage and tell the tale until the curtain closes. Your adoring audience awaits.”

“You’re being booted from the metaphorical theater before you get to hear or see the ending.”

“I would like to see you try.”

Jade slowed to a stop, Raven following suit. They were back in the town square, by the lamp post where they had met up. Ending where it had all begun.

He pulled out his phone and consulted the time. Jade unlocked his device, quickly wrote up a message, and tucked it away again. “I can take it from here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Besides,” Jade cast a pitiful look at Raven’s trembling arms, “I doubt you would be able to haul those supplies the remainder of the way, and certainly not in an efficient manner.”

“... Then what was the point of stating in the contract that you needed a helping hand?”

“I am afraid that even I am not entirely privy as to Azul’s intentions,” he chuckled, gently prying a bag from her hands. “I will be certain to let Azul know that Mac-san’s end of the contract has been fulfilled.”

“Eh...? But—“

“You have our thanks for lending the Mostro Lounge your time. You are free to go now, Miss Raven. I’ve already summoned Floyd in your stead to assist me.”

“Th-The ribbon, you fool! I can’t leave if I’m still bound to you!”

“Oh? You don’t say.” His singsong held no concern whatsoever, only amusement.

“S-Stop playing dumb! You know very well what you are doing!!”

“You said it yourself, Miss Raven. Our lives have been forever changed since our encounter. There is no going back now.”

“Stop manipulating the narrative to suit your needs.”

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you mean. Jade smiled, feigning innocence. “You’ve resigned yourself to spending the rest of the day with me—at least until Floyd arrives to relieve you of your burden. Ah, but given his moodiness, who knows when that will be.”

“Just because your surname is Leech doesn’t mean you need to suck the life out of me like one,” Raven snapped. She reached for the red ribbon, intending to undo it—

—only to be met with a bouquet a second time. Flowers the color of the sunset, smelling like the drip of sunshine and a cut of meadow.

“For you—no strings attached this time.”

“Those are for the terrarium centerpieces.”

“I can easily replace them,” Jade insisted, “and I must repay you for your kind chocolate gift. Consider this... ‘favors for favors’, so that neither one of us is left indebted to the other.”

“... Alright. I’ll take them, but only because they might be useful for brewing some new inks.”

“I’m glad to see that you are being agreeable.” Jade slipped the flowers to her. “Take good care of them.”

Raven leaned against a lamp post, cradling the large bouquet in one arm. Her heart fluttered, and her limbs felt as light as air. Warm and floaty, like the balloons in her hand. 

Favors for favors—but it still counted as a gift from Jade, and that very thought sent her mind spiraling. She took a shaky breath, and focused on the confetti and laughter in the distance, the song and dance of the street performers.

Waiting and waiting for Floyd.

“Miss Raven.”

“What now? Haven’t you bullied me enough for today? Are you still not satisfied, you sadist?”

She dared to lift her eyes to meet Jade’s—and her heart stood still, for he looked back. His sharp eyes soft and shrouded by long lashes, his lips pulled into a tender smile.

“Contract or no, I always enjoy my time with you—I enjoyed today,” Jade murmured. “I hope that we are able to do this again sometime.”

“... Shut up. J-Just shut up already, i-it’s embarrassing listening to you speak...!!” She buried her head in the flowers, concealing her pink face. Still feeling floaty, like a balloon, high on happiness.

“Fufufu. Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss Raven.”

[helisol]

dude im not sure you will get it after reading this either, but you Can read it now

okay so first of all do not expect me to adhere to rules of grammar or Proper capitalisation, I am writing from the heart

so it’s been said before by other people but if Quark and Odo didnt look like the aliens that they are but instead like two regular prettybois the fandom would do cartwheels over their dynamic and Not call them a crack ship. because really, their dynamic fucking SLAPS and I’m here to tell you Why.

their surface-level dynamic is “Respected and Talented Security Chief and Cunning Immoral Businessman who are in Love but pretend not to be” and that's just an off-brand version of enemies to lovers! which is excellent and for some people that’s all you really need to get invested in a ship.

but some people look at it and go “Hm, no, that’s not enough. I mean, they work as friends but it doesn’t really have to be romantic.” and to that I say you are Absolutely Valid, not everything has to be romantic.

it just so happens that these two fuckers have one of the most compelling romance stories ever, and it’d be a shame not to explore it.

so before I dive into the internalised homophobia and repression, I’d like to take a moment to talk about Quark as a character.

because if you have brainworms like me you can kind of see that its an honest to god greek tragedy.

this guy comes from a race of people where being kind, ethical and fair is considered Abnormal and Horrifying. and I’m not gonna call Quark out of all people kind, ethical or fair but,,, 

you ever notice how he’s A Much Better Person Than Pretty Much All Other Ferengi?

dont get me wrong, Quark is still a bastard, but every once in a while his True Character shines through. and I say True Character because guys,,, the way he behaves around other people is an Act. he’s pretending to be something he’s not.

he has to try so hard to be a good ferengi it’s honestly painful to watch at times. because he is a SHIT ferengi! 

he loves his friends- because that's what the ds9 crew are. they’re his friends! and it makes him miserable because that's not! normal! for a ferengi!

let’s compare Quark and Rom for a second. 

Quark reeks of self loathing because a lot of the time he just Doesn’t act like a ferengi is supposed to, and this drives a lot of conflict in the show. he knows how a ferengi should act, it’s just that he can’t!! fucking!! do it!! but he still tries and tries to fit into that mold, which straight up ruins his life on multiple occasions.

Rom is also not a Model Ferengi, but he lives without hating himself. and it’s mostly because he doesn’t care about how a ferengi Should act, he’s loved and cared for even when everybody knows that he’s a shit ferengi! because his non-ferengi-ness works to his benefit. it encourages and highlights his abilities as an engineer. the success and love he finds make it easy for him to be content with his true self. Unlike Quark, who doesn’t get unconditional love from anyone.

its so!! tragic!! because you can see what Quark is really like!! his true self!! he’s a nice guy who cares for people!

its right there all the time and it's so blatantly obvious. especially in episodes like “Body Parts”, “Bar Association”, “The Way Of The Warrior” and “Ferengi Love Songs”

his own wiki page literally calls him “a compassionate and generous man by ferengi standards” which pretty much translates to “not really a good ferengi”.

anyway so Quark is a tragic figure or whatever but we’re actually here for the REPRESSED! HOMOSEXUAL! TENDENCIES! that he and Odo both exhibit.

with characters like garak you don’t really need to have brainrot to pick up on those tendencies, because that was something andrew robinson chose to do, on purpose. 

and to be fair, Quark wasn’t intended to be Any kind of representation, not even by the actor. I’m just pointing out that he Does look and act and talk like a little gayman.

I will admit that he is Painfully Straight in the text of the show, but on a meta level he’s just. a dude who has a serious case of repressing his real personality. and taking it a step further- he also represses his feelings towards another man.

and that man is Odo.

a few things on him:

Odo is literally desperate to be a person. unlike Quark, who at least has the comfort of belonging to a society of people with a set of rules and expectations, Odo has never met anyone or anything like him in all his years of life.

like, we all know Odo basically grew up in a lab, right? 

with people who didn’t know anything about him. who he was so unalike that they literally called him “Nothing”

but he still learned to look and talk and act like them (because if he didn’t he’d feel *pain* which is very fucked up by the way?)

so we know for a fact that Odo wants to be recognised as a person- which is why he tries really hard to conform to the ideals of the society that raised him. instead of exploring his nature as a shape shifter he maintains a humanoid form, picks up a job and creates an entire personality around what he wants to be seen as. but not what he really is.

and that's the thing that causes all the conflict between Quark and Odo. the type of person odo wants to be seen as is the polar opposite of whatever the fuck quark wants to be seen as.

In the same way that Quark acts like a Normal Ferengi, Odo acts like a Normal Security Officer.  and in a cruel twist of fate, the Ferengi happens to be the antithesis of the Security Officer.

If you only look at them as the things they act like, and not the things they are, you might say they’re way too different to like each other, right? 

but,,, if you think about the fact that they’re both putting on this act,,, this performance of idealised versions of themselves,,, you can see that they are The Same. They Are Both Gay Repressed Loser Aliens Who Try To Act Like Things That They Aren’t!

Imagine you’re Odo. 

Imagine that you’re Nothing, because you’re not like anything anyone has ever seen- and because you are Nothing you don’t fall in love with anyone for years and years. since who could love something that isn’t like them at all?

But then one day this Thing shows up in your path and you just hate it. Because it’s not like anything *you* have ever seen. It’s disorderly and looks grotesque and it’s criminal to boot.

It’s all the things you learned would make a “Bad Person” It’s everything you aspire not to be, because if you were any of those things you would BE PUNISHED.

But the trouble is, eventually he’s not an “it” anymore, he’s “Quark” and you see him every day of your miserable little life because you live on the same damn station in space and it’s hard to avoid each other.

He also happens to be one of the only things in your life that are constant. He will never leave because he is stubborn and greedy and you just *hate him so much* that you’re convinced he must be doing all of it to spite you. And yet you also can’t seem to leave him alone.

So Odo Must Hate Quark. everything else is a non sequitur for him. he can’t not hate Quark.

because Quark is, and i’m sincerely sorry to apply christian fucking imagery to this, The Forbidden Fruit.

If he liked quark he’d admit some kind of moral failing. it would be the end of his act. but on the other hand...it might be a good thing, because at least he could have quark.

but Odo can never go through with biting into this apple because the consequences are horrifying to him. he could never have quark because, according to his performance, he would Never like quark to begin with.

and here’s a take for you: Odo's Brand Of Internalised Homophobia Doesn't Stem From Heteronormativity. It Stems From The Fact That He Was Kind Of Assigned Asexual At Birth.

and the show sort of alludes to this, for real! not just subtext! canon! except the writers used the wrong person. 

because instead of Odo having these Forbidden Feelings for Quark he has them for,,, Kira.

but since this is My Quodo Manifesto you’ll understand that i am 100% willing to just toss that part of canon out the airlock.

so Odo does canonically have that mindset of “no one could ever love me”  for decades he repressed any and all feelings of love to avoid getting hurt. in the show he breaks this cycle of repression when he takes a chance and enters a relationship with Kira. yay?

but we all know that aint it chief. and part of the reason why That Ship Ain’t It is the fact that Quark is Right There. and he is simply the more interesting choice for odo.

he and Odo literally share the same problem and have weird intertwined character arcs! they are both dreadfully afraid of not conforming to the ideal versions of themselves, so they reject everything that could challenge their Performance!

on some fucked up level they hate each other *and* themselves individually. and this hatred makes them reject parts of their real identities for the sake of protecting their image. which. yknow. in gay people. is internalised homophobia!

so you can see that they’re both repressing A Lot even if you view them as Friends, but the most important thing in this kind of romantic dynamic is usually,,, when the characters *stop* repressing.

and the thing is. the thing that Kills Me with these two. They Never Get That Moment. Thats Why You Need The Brainrot To See Them As Romantic.

The Ascent gives us an example of what happens when they both take their act too far. I mean, who could forget “Fascist!” and “Fraud!” That is what odo thinks of quark’s performance and vice versa, but we don’t really hear them adress the fact that they *are* playing these roles to a ridiculous extent.

We also never get an example of what would happen if they dropped their act instead of over-performing it. or rather we don’t get to see both of them drop it.

And the reason why we never get that moment is because there’s this one key difference between Quark and Odo. 

Quark knows that he’s constantly repressing his true nature and his feelings for odo. We pretty much hear him say so in the iconic root beer scene in Way Of The Warrior. he knows that he’s not a good ferengi but he keeps up his act.

So quark is aware enough to feel that sweet sweet self loathing. But Odo isnt self loathing as much as he is just self sabotaging.

and this subtle difference between them is why, at the very end of the show, we get “That man loves me, can’t you see? It was written all over his back!”

this moment is quark dropping his act and asking odo to do the same. he wants to hear a genuine Goodbye from him because they have known each other for Decades and they are Friends. but odo is so unable to express the feelings he’s been repressing all these years. that he self sabotages again and just walks away.

even though this is like. very anticlimactic. considering I just spent 2000 words talking about how Odo and Quark are Most Certainly Gay For Each Other.

The fact that their ending is so Weird is the reason why quodo is so engaging and appealing to me? especially post-canon quodo.

like, the amount of “what if’s” this ship has are Astounding.

What if either of them had dropped their act a little sooner? What if they both did, for just a moment, and it was the straw that breaks the camels back?

What if Odo comes back after a few years? What if Quark comes to get him?

What if, in that moment in the finale where Quark drops his act, Odo had returned the gesture? What if Gag-Reel Quodo Kiss.gif Real?

with the depth that I read into their relationship, those what ifs are really fun to think about.

anyway its 1 am and i’m not an english major so literary analysis is not like, my strong suit. plus most of this was written in a late night screaming session with a friend who has the exact same opinions as me. i just think aliens hot and in love. thats all.

[damn-stark]

Slytherin vs. Gryffindor

Chapter 16 of Different light

A/N- Got to enjoy the last happy moments in this series while we can :):

Warning- Angst, Fluff!

Pairing- Harry Potter x Malfoy!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Darkness caved in the class whilst thick white smoke slowly crept out of the cabinet and filled the room in an eerie presence. The whispers of curious students who anxiously waited to see what scared you, slowly died down and instead let silence echo loudly in the class.

Fear was the lesson for today’s Defense against the Dark Arts class. Snape said that fear is a weakness, and we must all face our fear to grow stronger in these troubled times. And you knew your fear, you’ve met your fear. And yet you didn’t grow strong either of the times you’ve seen him. Doubtful that much would change now as you faced the Boggart.

You wanted to just leave class, you were filled with the temptation. Yet you stood still as you watched the thick white smoke turn green, casting the room in its bright green hue and cloud in front of you. It took a moment to take form, the smoke just slowly floated towards you, causing you to swallow thickly and curiously step forward to pull your arm from your side and hesitantly reach your fingers towards the smoke.

At first you expected to feel nothing, but the moment your fingers went through the thick green smoke the tip of your fingers began to sting sharply. You pulled your hand back and found that the moment you did, the pain ceased to exist, your fingers didn’t throb, or burn anymore. But that was it right, the fear, it poisoned your mind. It made you believe that the smoke was something painful when it really wasn’t, when it really was something much worse.

The moment you tore your eyes from your fingers and looked up to the smoke, you saw it hastily form into Voldemort and Nagini. Their bodies and faces perfectly vivid in front of you. You tried to raise your wand to say the spell to get rid of what taunted you, to transform them into something funny, but the forms in front of you were paralyzing; they made your breath catch in your throat and your heart violently thump inside your chest. Everything around you blended with the dark room as your eyes solely focused on Voldemort and Nagini.

Professor Snape tried to snap you out of the spell fear casted upon you, but his voice just travelled to the back of your head. All you could do was watch as Voldemort's cold eyes pierced into your soul and Nagini slithered towards you, stopping a few inches before you and raising her head to snap at you and make you flinch back.

Again you could do nothing but stand there until Snape stepped in and made the boggart disappear, relieving your withered soul and letting you release a shaky breath of air whilst your focus returned to your surroundings. A fact that let you hear the whispers behind you, see Snape's dark soulless eyes burn into you and trigger you to hastily run out of the class and go to a lonely dimly lit hall.

You proceeded to check that no one was close by before you pressed your back on the stone wall to slide down to the floor, basking in the silence and loneliness to gently touch the scar on your cheek created by the man you feared. Soon thereafter following by lowering your hand and your eyes to look at your arm, hesitating for a few seconds before you slowly pulled the left sleeve that covered your skin to show yourself the black brand that was on your arm. Knowing that it was a cruel reminder that’d you always face your fear.

As long as he was alive you’d have to live with your fear.

——

“How about,” you pause and hesitate, softening your voice and hearing a faint quiver in your tone. “How about we send it to him some way? I don’t trust just letting someone deliver it. It’s too dangerous.”

“Have you gone soft?” Draco scolds you as he swings back to shoot you a narrowed gazed. “If we send it, we’d get caught, our mission would fail and…” Draco pauses this time and his blue eyes drop to the package in your hand before his shoulders stiffened and he finished his comment. “He would kill us.” His gaze lifts to meet yours and his eyes harden on you again. “If you don’t want to do it, just say so,” his voice rises, causing you to glance out the creek of the door to make sure no one was walking by so you could step toward your brother and shush him.

“Draco, not so loud,” you say in a loud whisper. “They'll hear you.”

Said boy scoffs and rolls his eyes, stepping back to continue. “There's no room for the weak, do it, or die yourself.”

You stay quiet for a moment and challenge his gaze, seeing his hand inch towards the package in your hand before you pull it closer towards you and let out a deep groan. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

Draco pulls his hand away and fixes his coat instead, nodding stiffly and pointing his head to the door before he lets out a quick comment. “Be careful.”

Your lips twitch slightly and you playfully hit his shoulder. “I will.” You offer him a quick assuring look before you turn to try to head out the door, albeit stopping as he speaks up.

“Perhaps I should do it instead,” Draco swallows thickly, his steps towards you echoing in the unoccupied room in the Three broomsticks. “You still seem hesitant and we can’t afford any mistakes.”

You look over your shoulder to meet his concerned gaze. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

“Fine,” he grumbles, turning his eyes away and shoving his hands in his pants pockets to finally let you leave. And it wasn’t an easy task, as you walked out the door it felt as if your feet were being weighed down by the weight of your guilt, every second of that short walk to the kitchen was a cruel torture. The smile that had been plastered on your lips was lost the moment you shut the door. Your mission became your priority and also your biggest regret.

But Draco was right. It was either do, or die. No room for mistakes or second chances.

Sometimes you thought though, when you were doing these secret endeavors, why you couldn’t have been born in a different family. You loved your family, yes, but it was because you were a Malfoy that this responsibility was laid upon you. It was just a passing thought, it appeared but usually disappeared like the wind.

Just like it did now as you entered the kitchen. You waited for Rosmerta in the shadows of the room with your wand in hand, taking note of her tardiness and growing angsty on getting this over with. It had felt like hours until she stumbled into the kitchen, when in reality it was only a few seconds.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she stammered, her eyes instantly finding the package in your hand before she looked at you as she waited by the door.

“It doesn’t matter,” you mutter whilst you push yourself from the corner of the room to lift your wand and point it at her body, “this will just take a few seconds.” You narrow your gaze and block out any emotions that could spoil your plan. You become cold and unhesitant. “Imperio.” You command, stepping forward and slightly tilting your head to continue, “you’ll give this opal necklace to a student you seem fit, hex them and have them deliver it to Dumbledore.” You swallow thickly and drop your hand to put your wand away and walk past her, stopping just as you push the door open. “Don’t waste anymore time.”

“I won’t waste more time,” she slowly repeats in a monotone-like voice. You add nothing else in return and hastily exit the kitchen room to stride back to Draco, feeling the guilt you had tried to hold back slam down on you and causing tears to sting your eyes after you dropped the cold demeanor you tried to act on before.

It was hard to hold back your tears, to break down in that cold hall. But you had to show yourself and Draco that you were strong. Because you were. You were. You could do this.

“You did it?” Draco’s voice registers in your head as you absentmindedly enter the same room you had left him in.

Your eyes slowly drag up to his face and you nod once. “I did it.” You sigh and avert your gaze. “Can we go now? I have work to do.”

Draco’s silence echoes in the room as his eyes search your face, as he tries to read the emotions that were spilt all over your watery eyes. But he wasn’t able to look at your eyes to receive his answer. Leading him to instead sigh, “yeah. We wouldn’t want to get caught.” He walks past you and holds the door open so you could walk out first and hastily lead the way out of the Three broomsticks, with your head hung low. Unknowingly passing Harry and friends in the same pub.

Not like you were paying attention to who was in the pub, or really in the mood to talk to anyone at all. Draco had made a sly comment about seeing Harry, but you were thinking of other things to even capture what Draco had been mumbling about. All you wanted to do was get away from the pub and return to the comfort of school. Or really your dorm.

It was there where you did the opposite of what you told Draco you were going to do; where you could block out everything in the protection of your bed and under the security of your blankets. Where you could numb yourself to feel nothing at all, to avoid the guilt you were riddled with as you watched the candlelight dance on the black brand on your arm. And perhaps it wasn’t the smartest idea, but it felt like the best. All until Clementine came to drag you out of your secluded bubble.

“What are you doing?” She questions as she yanks the blanket off your body. “It’s dinner time, you’ve already missed lunch and our study date, are you okay?”

“No,” grumble as you roll to your other side. “I feel sick.”

Clementine scoffs and then throws herself on your bed, looking at the ceiling and then giggling. “That’s a bunch of bullshit.”

You pull your sleeve over your arm and bury your face in your pillow. “I have a fever, I think. It’s really bad.”

“Come here,” Clementine orders, waiting for you to roll around to face her so she could gently press the back of her hand on your forehead and try to feel for what you claimed, her smile faltering and her dark eyes wandering over your head as she concentrated on her task.

Nonetheless her dark eyes brightened moments later and lowered to meet your own gaze to then slowly smile brightly and say her findings. “Oh yeah I feel something,”

“Fever.” You groggily confirm.

“Just a high amount of bullshit,” she snickers and smacks your forehead before she tears her hand away and snuggles closer to you. “Don’t you want to go see your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct her, “we’re just dating, but he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yet,” she grinned smugly. “Regardless,” she sighed, losing her grin and instead dropping her gaze into a calm expression. “Don’t you want to come eat with your best friend and our annoying brothers then?”

You huff out and shake your head. “No on the brother part, but,” you sigh, “yes on the friend offer.”

“Good.” She interjects before she rolls off your bed and drags you out of your spot, letting you shove your shoes on before she took you downstairs to the main hall and sat you down beside Harry and friends.

“Hello everyone,” you greet warmly, meeting Harry’s blue eyes and offering him a sweet smile.

“Hi, y/n.” He greeted whilst he let his eyes linger on yours before he slid them to Clementine. “Clementine.”

“Hello,” she replied as she served herself a plate of dinner.

Hermione proceeded to greet the both of you, while Ron lazily did so, hardly even paying either of you any attention at first until he realized what was on Clementine's plate. He seemed to light up after that, like he had just received a nice present. He then proceeded to ramble on with her about the food on their plate as if neither of them have either eaten the same meal before. Not only that but they went on about food they’ve tried outside of school, both sharing their dislikes and likes like a bunch of school children. It was pretty nice you did have to admit, Ron and her getting along; it was really something truly unexpected.

And it seemed that Hermione had a lot of thoughts she didn’t share about their interaction too. And you had the temptation to press on the matter, but she was quick to change the subject. “We saw you at the Three broomsticks, y/n, but it seemed you didn’t see us in your hurry. Were you okay?”

Slowly you peel your eyes from your plate to meet her gaze across the table. “Yeah,” you nod, “I was just feeling bad.” You avert Harry’s gaze and clench your fists. “I’m sorry I missed you guys. We should meet there soon.”

“Are you sure?” Harry probed, his hand sliding on top of yours and making your eyes slide to him. “If your brother said something to you…”

“No,” you cut him off, “he didn’t do anything, I wasn’t feeling good so I left.”

“Well he seemed to be upset and in a hurry.” Harry continued, making your hand stiffen under his and for your eyes to leave his again. “Are—”

“Harry.” Hermione sharply cut him off, “drop it.”

Said boy swallowed thickly and hesitated but didn’t fret to listen, his hand sliding off yours and returning to his fork before he changed the subject into something much more upsetting. “I feel bad for Katie Bell, she's still in the medical wing. They can’t seem to find a way to wake her up.”

“Katie Bell?” You ask slowly, feeling your eyebrows pinch together and your heart thumping wildly in your chest. “What happened to her?”

“Hexed,” Hermione answered in a mumble. “After she touched something she wasn’t supposed to. A cursed object.”

At the sound of the words that came out of her mouth your whole body freezes and your breath hitches, the familiar stinging feeling fills your haunted and deeply guilt ridden eyes; not like they caught it with your sudden eruption to escape the table. “I don’t feel good, I’ll be back.”

——

“Reparo,” you chant once, elegantly moving your wrist and fingers to produce the spell from your hand and watch the fragmented teacup float up from the floor and slowly connect like pieces to a puzzle.

Only the moment the cracks connected to build the teacup whole, it all crumbled down again, falling to the floor with an echoing crack on the wooden floor. “Shoot,” you whisper before you sit back down and sit in silence to listen to the rain patter on the roof above, feeling a chill run throughout the perimeters of your skin as a cold gust of air blows into the bell tower.

After abruptly leaving the main hall with your heart in the pit of your stomach, you escaped here, you watched the sunset and stars twinkle in the sky until dark clouds invaded the scene. At first you just basked yourself in the silence and torment of your own guilt, watching the sky change, but soon you began to experiment with different variations of mending spells you could use on the broken enchanted teacup; trying to mimic fixing the vanishing cabinet. But just like that object, failing to fix the teacup.

Not like failing hundreds of times stopped neither Draco or you, you both still continued trying to find a way to fix the cabinet even outside the help of Borgin. Fixing this teacup was an example of that.

So you give your best efforts again, opening your hand again and in your head saying a different variation of the mending spell, once again watching the teacup fragments float into the air and begin to connect…

“Fancing a tea party?” You hear a voice ask from the stairs, the sudden sound breaking through the room making you jump and drop your concentration on your spell, ending with the teacup shattering into smaller pieces on the wooden floor. You swear under your breath before looking to where the voice had come from to see Harry’s deep blue eyes peeking over the wooden floor.

“Not anymore,” you groan as you turn back to the mess on the floor and hear Harry slowly make his way across from you, admiring the rain drops crashing onto the roofs outside that created a soothing melody before he sat down to face you. “How did you know I was here?”

You lift your eyes from what you were cleaning on the floor and notice Harry hesitate, a mischievous smirk pulling on his lips before he answers. “I just….made a lucky guess.”

You scoff and nod slowly, “well alright. What a lucky guess then,” you smirk, leaning over to collect the leftover pieces by his feet, feeling his fingers brush yours as he helps you clean up the pieces. “Thank you.”

“What were you doing?” He finally asks after you take the pieces from his hand.

“Uh,” you hum as you put the teacup away. “I’m practicing mending spells, the known ones, the more unknown and some I have tried to make myself.” You beam up at him and sit up straight to finally meet his gaze.

“Really?” He quirks a brow, “what for?”

You shrug, “practice. If I want to be an auror, I need to practice to be the best. Or try to anyway.”

His eyes roam on your face and he doesn’t respond to the comment you had just shared, instead he changes to what you were dreading. “Are you feeling better? You left in a hurry and never came back. You missed Clementine and Ron’s food competition.”

You snort. “Well maybe I was better off missing it,” you snicker, “who would’ve known they’d get along.”

“Right,” Harry agrees, “especially because Ron is so against Slytherins.”

You laugh softly and hope he'd drop it, but you should have known better.

“But really are you okay?

“Yeah,” you nod, dropping your gaze to your finger tracing circles on the wooden floor. “I’m...fine.” You sigh and lift your gaze to look at him and finish with your assuring comment. “You’re here so I’m better.”

Harry’s eyes widen slightly before he blinks to try to act casual even if a faint blush grew on his cheeks. “Glad to hear that,” he continues whilst he scratches the back of his head and scoots in closer. “You had me worried.”

A soft smile spreads on your features and you move to be at his side instead, feeling his arm instantly loop around your shoulders to pull you closer to his side.

You could feel your heart flutter in your chest but you try to ignore it to keep yourself collected. Even if the next words just clenched your stomach and quickened your heartbeat. “Thank you for coming to look for me...thank you also for being my friend regardless of who my family is.”

Harry shifts and you could feel his stare on you before he parted his lips to answer you. “You've always been kind, there's no reason for me to treat you any other way. You’re not like your family.”

The smile you had painted on your features slowly drops and your face turns more serious, the beating of your heart beginning to race for a completely different reason this time. Guilt once again resurfaces and the question that had been pestering your mind comes out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. Regardless of what he had just said. “Do you think I’m an evil person?”

Harry parts away from your side far enough so he could see your face, so he could show you that he was being genuine. “No. I don’t. Not even a bit.”

Your lip quivers and your voice cracks. “Even if my father is a death eater? Even if he tried to kill you?”

“You’re not your father,” Harry assures you, his eyes piercing into yours as he made his statement clear to only you. Even if you still doubted yourself and his answer.

“Even if I turned on you that day in the ministry of magic?”

“Did you mean to?” He queries.

You shake your head, “no. I didn’t.”

“Then no,” he clarifies, as he grabs your hands and secures them in his hold. “I think your choices were justified and I know that if I were in your shoes I would've done the same.”

“No,” you mutter, “you wouldn't have because you’ve got a good heart Harry, you would've done the right thing.”

“If my family were alive I would have done the same,” he reveals, his eyes blinking away for a few seconds as a sad expression flickers in his eyes—“I know you love your family, y/n, I know that’s why you make the choices you do, I know that even if your family is on the wrong side, they love you. I know that’s why you make the choices you do. Anyone would too.”

His words hit you like a blade to the flesh, they hurt and stung. Every meaning behind it was genuine and sweet, you could feel it, see it in the depths of his eyes. And that wounded you more, it shook you to your very core. You tried to fight the need to cry and say the truth about everything. You ached to tell him the truth about the brand on your arm and how Voldemort frightened you, how he hurt you that day you returned from the ministry of magic.

But you didn’t say anything, even if your throat burned to spill the words trapped within you. It was better to keep things a secret. In many ways it felt good not saying the truth, it made you feel normal and not like some monster, nor an enemy he hated.

Harry made you feel safe. Which is why you kept being at his side, kept talking to him. He had a way to make you feel like you weren’t the monster whispered about in every corner, he made you happy in this gloomy war. Everything felt better with him, which is why you were selfish and continued by his side.

“Could you,” you begin in a whisper, flickering your eyes behind his shoulder to watch the silver raindrops pour down on the roofs outside. “Forgive an evil person?” You continue unsurely, blinking to meet his intent gaze.

Harry sighs but doesn’t hesitate, “I guess it depends, doesn’t it?”

It may be too on the nose, or he may not catch it at all, but you had to say it. You needed to know. “If they had no choice but to be that way.”

“Then yes,” Harry answers confidently, softening his gaze and holding onto your hand tighter until you threw your hands around him and pulled him in for an embrace, snuggling your head into the crook of his neck and balling the material of his shirt under your hands.

Said boy returned your embrace and stroked your back, leaning his head on yours and staying put until you chose to pull away. Albeit you didn’t part away, you only turned around and sat in between his legs to enjoy his company a bit longer.

“Can I show you something?” Harry later asks, breaking the silence.

“Sure,” you nod, feeling his hand dig into his pocket to pull out a potions book that he showed you the moment he swung his arm around you. “Your potions book?”

“No, no...well yes, but just read what’s inside.”

You scoff but take his book nonetheless, opening it and flipping through the pages to notice all the pages were littered with notes. “Wow,” you gasp, “Harry when did you—” you cut yourself off as your eyes land on a page that had a note that read, “property of the Halfblood Prince.” It makes you smile and tilt your head up to look at Harry’s chin until he looks down to look at you. “Are you trying to insinuate something?”

Harry doesn’t understand at first, his eyebrows pinch together and his eyes narrow in utter and innocent confusion. “What?” He stammers, “what do you mean?”

“Look,” you smile, “it’s a clever name. It’s cool, it’s nice. But just give me some time to call you that okay?”

Harry’s eyes widen and he instantly exclaims out, “what? What no! It’s not me.”

“Oh,” you sigh in relief, continuing to laugh and look down at the book. “Good, great. You had me worried for a second.”

“Did you really think I would call myself that?”

You shrug, “who am I to judge? I mean you’re the chosen one, yeah? Maybe you wanted a different alias to match with that title, I don’t know.”

Harry laughs, making you grin whilst you felt his whole shake as he did so. “Well then, who is the Halfblood prince?”

Harry shrugs, “that’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

——

Today was an exciting day because Slytherin was going to play against Gryffindor in quidditch. Every student anticipated today’s match because of the known rivalry Gryffindors and Slytherins have. Students cheered for the players as they walked inside the brightly decorated great hall for breakfast, while others booed (i.a. Slytherin students) when Gryffindor students walked in.

Since you were a Slytherin and had friends in the Gryffindor team, you represented both teams naturally, wearing a nice uniform that matched Clementines, since she wanted to represent both teams for her brother and her friends too.

“Good morning my friends,” Clementine smiled sweetly at Harry and Hermione as you both sat down across from them on the Gryffindor table.

“Good morning girls,” Hermione responded in the same happy energy with a smile that matched yours, her eyes only briefly pulling away from her newspaper.

“Excited for today?” You question as you look at Harry.

Said boy nods after taking a bite of his breakfast. “Should be exciting.” His eyes roam your uniform and he smiles brightly, “what are you wearing?”

You look down at your clothes and then look up to Harry and Hermione both examining your and Clementine's outfit alike. “Since we’re cheering for both teams, Clementine made us both matching uniforms.”

Said girl nods and grins, “pretty smart, yeah?”

“Very,” Hermione agrees, her eyes going to the green and red paint on your cheeks that Clementine practically forced you down to put on. “It’s cute, you made it all yourself?”

“Mhmm,” Clementine nods, “I make some of my other clothes, but it’s just a hobby for now though.”

“Well it is pretty smart,” Harry finally adds, his eyes going to the doors to watch as Ron walked in with a long gloomy face painted on his features. The sight of him however making Clementine shoot Hermione a smirk before the Weasley boy dropped on the seat beside you.

Ron’s eyes dropped on his meal and for the first time since you’ve had meals next to him, he wasn’t frantically digging in like it was his first meal in ages. Instead he looked up to his two best friends in front of him and looked to Clementine to ask, “So how was it then?”

“How was what?” Hermione queried as she put the newspaper down.

“Your dinner party?” He clarified in a louder voice.

“Oh right,” you interject as you take a sip of your drink, “I forgot you guys had that.”

“It was pretty boring actually,” Hermione revealed before Clementine snickered and cut her off, eyeing the red head boy beside her.

“Although I think Hermione enjoyed desert.” Clementine glances at said brunette before her and Harry share a mischievous smile. “It was quite savory and eye-catching, wasn't it Harry?”

You glance at Harry and see him just nod before Ron and you share a confused look, for the first time looking eye to eye and not shooting daggers at one another. Needless to say before either of you could ask what the duo meant, Hermione was quick to change the subject. “Slugghorn is having Christmas too, you know. And we’re meant to bring someone,” she finishes as she sets her article down and looks at Ron.

“I expect you’ll be bringing Mclaggen.” Ron points out in an accusatory tone. “He’s in the slug club isn’t he?”

“Actually I was going to ask you.” Hermione surprisingly reveals, making you choke on your food just for a bit before you drank more of your drink and tried not to smile like an excited child.

“Remember to chew your food, Malfoy,” Clementine discreetly snickered. You rose your cup her way and just chugged it before a sweet blond came skipping behind Ron, shooting you a rather scary glare.

“Good luck today Ron. I know you’ll be brilliant,” she finished in a whisper, walking off just like how she had arrived. The whole interaction however made Clementine, Hermione and you share a look, made you remember that she was the same girl from the stands when they had tryouts.

“Oh wow, congratulations Ron, you have fans,” you pat him on the back, making him wince and take one last look at the blond at the end of the room before he turned back to Harry and leaned in.

“I’m resigning,” he panicked, “after today’s match, Mclaggen can have my spot.”

“Have it your way,” Harry said as he reached his hand over to slide Ron his cup. “Juice?”

“Sure.” Ron said glumly.

“Hello everyone,” a soft, higher pitched voice greets beside Clementine. When you look over you see Luna dressed in a lion costume facing your group. “You look dreadful, Ron.” Her eyes then drift to Harry, “is that why you put something in his cup? Is it a tonic?”

All eyes fall on Harry to wait for a response, but all you recieve is just ignorance from Harry as he puts a flask away, only aggravating Hermione and making you smirk down at your food as she was quick to protest. “Liquid luck. Don’t drink it Ron!”

Ignoring her completely, Ron raises the cup to his lips and doesn’t hesitate to chug the whole drink and look at her in a much brighter manner.

“You could be expelled for that.” Hermione argued to Harry, but received nothing but ignorance again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ron grins and begins to get off from his seat. “Come on, Harry. We’ve got a game to win.”

Both boys cheerfully part away from the table and walk out of the great hall, letting you call after Harry as he did so. “Good luck!”

He looks back and shoots you a smile before Ron and him disappear out of the hall, letting Clementine add a sly comment. “It’s no wonder you and Potter get along so well.”

You only smile before looking out the window and admiring the falling snow.

——

The falling snow thickened as the game played out, it seemed to match the aggressive competition on the field as it poured down onto the earth, making the air bitter but tolerable since everyone’s bodies were pumped with excitement as everyone cheered for the great match. As you let yourself get swept away and for once forget what you were facing outside the field, the reason why Draco hadn’t joined the team this year.

Like the crowd you cheered, clapped and jumped as scores were made, or swift moves were shown off. You watched the players soar in the sky; their feces red from the icy air that hit their faces as they zigzagged across the field to block and make scores. More intently you watched Harry on the field with a cheerful expression on your face, yet also watched with your heart on your sleeve when he would get hit or be disappointed because he couldn’t find the snitch. Your stomach churned when he would make steep dives, but regardless you cheered for him proudly, letting your own cheers soar in the sky so he could hear you.

Needless to say though, Ron was the one that took you by surprise if you had to be honest, with his quick saves that he made at points with the tip of his fingers. He carried a smile on his face now, a much happier look than the uneasy one he had plastered for breakfast. He also let himself get swept away and seemed to be cocky, and you had an idea why. Not only because students started to cheer “Ron is our King,” but because of the drink that Harry gave him that was filled with nothing but pure encouragement and nothing else. But for the sake of Ron’s confidence Harry let him believe so.

Anyhow the colors of your uniform would change from Red to Green as you cheered for both sides. Or really when you just cheered for Blaise on the Slytherin team. That color changing stopped albeit when you watched Harper from the Slytherin team collide into Harry before he sped off after the Snitch—“I think Harper of Slytherin seen the snitch!” Zacharious Smith shouted through the megaphone. “Yes he’s certainly seen something Potter hasn’t!”

Not before long, after Harry appeared to be contemplating, he flew up into the sky, following after Harper. Literally causing you to stand on the tip of your toes, with your hand shielding your eyes to watch the bright white sky for Harry and Harper who both raced to catch the snitch. And since it was so high in the sky, if they had shared comments to one another, everyone would be none the wiser since their voices didn’t carry down, all you had to go on was the heart wrenching anticipation as Harper had the snitch just inches away from the snitch, but missed it, or let it pass as he did a double take on Harry who passed him by swiftly.

There were faces expressed, but again nothing was clear with them so high in the sky, all you could do was clutch onto Hermione and Clementine as you all watched Harry dive down, not giving anything away as he was finally at a good view in the field. Not until a few seconds later where he grinned briefly and threw his fist into the sky to show off the golden snitch to the crowd; making it end instantly with the sound of the whistle and causing the crowd to erupt in an excited cheer.

You also clapped and cheered at the top of your lungs, feeling Clemtines arm wrap around you to pull Hermione and you in for a happy embrace. And of course without a moment to spare, and while the Gryffindor players were cheering she pulled Hermione and you down to the field where most students ran down to as well to personally congratulate the team.

However, before you could reach Harry, Clementine and you stop when you catch Blaise walking to the dressing rooms—“you did well, Blaise! I’m proud of you!” Clementine complemented her brother as she threw her arm around his shoulders.

“Thanks,” he whispered with his head hung low.

“Yeah,” you added, “you were great, that goal before halftime was very impressive!”

His eyes fly up to you and he nods, “thank you, y/n.” Blaises eyes linger on you for a second longer before he fully looks at his sister. “Cheering for opposing teams now, are we?” He shoves her arm off him and all she does is smile with pride.

“Yes, I have friends on the Gryffindor who I want to support, don’t be jealous now because I cheered for you too.”

Blaise scoffs and then looks at you again. “You should’ve joined the team, Draco says you're a good chaser. Could’ve used you out there now with your brother off.”

You wave your hand to brush his comment off. “Draco is just exaggerating, plus I play just for fun.”

“Well I think she’s better off in the stands. Wouldn’t want them hitting her pretty face,” Clementine teases.

“I’d like to see them try,” Blaise throws out before he walks off and leaves the both of you behind.

Clementine falls silent, her smile falling as she stays frozen to her spot for a brief moment and just watches her brother walk off and then just stares at his footprints on the snow covered ground. Unlike you on the other hand who finally spins around on your heels to run to Harry, maneuvering through the excited crowd of students until you pushed yourself to the middle and saw them cheering Ron and him on.

“Harry!” You call out, instantly stealing his attention and having him turn around to face you and smile wider. At the sight you run the final steps towards him and throw your arms around his neck, feeling his arms secure around you before you slid your hands to cheeks to pull him in for a short lingering kiss that had some students whooping and cheering louder for him.

Harry was caught by surprise but he didn’t pull away, he enjoyed the heart racing moment like you did, you let yourself get swept off in the moment, not caring who saw your daring actions, not caring what they’d say after. All you cared about was Harry and your kiss, how your heart felt like it was going to tear off your chest with how fast it was thumping, or how utterly happy you felt with him by your side.

All you cared about was the last happy moments before the inevitable would happen that would change everything.

.

.

.

Tagged- @peter-laufeyson , @swiftlymoniquesblog @spideyyypeter , @gsvshsjsbs, @accio-prozac , @cherriesanwine , @kokomaesadie , @april-14-blog , @prettypinkpeachh , @pest-ill-ence @ilovespideyyy @m3ssytrash @hogwarts-babe-blog , @yodaboo @rafeyybabyy

[chimchimsauce]

XS (V - Honesty)

“Give me just a little bit MORE”

Being the son of the largest gang in the country, Kim Taehyung might as well be a prince. He is more powerful than any one man should be and is not afraid to get rid of anything - or anyone that gets in his way.

So when a man is unable to pay back the gigantic loan he owes Taehyung, the heir is all too happy to take his life. Moments away from pulling the trigger, a girl more beautiful than he’s ever seen bursts in and offers her life for her father’s. Taehyung knows right away that he wants her.

And Taehyung gets everything he wants.

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Yoonji doesn't say anything as she helps YN out of her dress and YN isn't sure if she feels relieved or even more terrified. On one hand, she's grateful for the silence, not wanting to be bombarded after such a stressful encounter. But on the other hand . . . Yoonji doesn't say anything to imply that things will get better or that Taehyung - the man who is to become her husband in just a few short hours - isn't as violent and terrible as he seems.

"Yoonji," YN begins as the other woman begins to run a tub of warm water in the beautiful bathroom, "Can you be honest with me?"

Yoonji doesn't turn away immediately, instead finishing her task. When she turns to YN, her face is blank.

"Honest about what?" she asks, helping YN undress entirely.

YN wants to be embarrassed but she doesn't have the energy to.

"What is my life going to be like?" she asks, wincing as she steps into the bathwater.

Her stomach hurts like crazy and she will absolutely have an ugly bruise in a few days.

Yoonji scoops a pitcher into the milky water, pouring it over YN's head. YN coughs, choking on the unexpected water.

"Do what he says and you'll be fine," Yoonji says, unbothered by YN's coughing, "As long as you do what's expected of you, he won't hurt you . . . probably."

Yoonji dumps water over YN's head again and the woman leans forward, trying to get away from Yoonji's grasp.

"Stop moving," Yoonji says, poring some product into her hands and raking it through YN's hair.

YN wipes her face, water clinging to her eyelashes. She can't help but think that Yoonji is upset at her for some reason. Her stomach twists uncomfortably. YN had been hoping that in the very least she'd have someone who didn't terrify her to keep her company but it seems like that won't be the case.

YN sniffs, lungs hurting from all the coughing. Her eyes tear up and she can't tell if it's from pain or emotional distress. She doesn't ask any more questions as Yoonji scrubs her down with brown sugar and massages oils and cocoa butter into her skin. Yoonji dresses her in a silky nightgown and leaves her alone, closing the door with a simple "Good luck."

YN sneaks out of the bed and tries the door but to no one's surprise, it's locked. Sighing, YN crawls back into bed, grabbing one of the down pillows and cuddling it close to her. She wonders how her parents are doing. Are they okay? Were they able to clean the kitchen? Have they buried the family dog yet?

But most importantly, did Taehyung keep his word? Are they still alive?

YN's grip on the pillow tightens. She feels no peace, no ability to fall asleep. All she can do is stare at the ceiling, the hours passing by in the blink of an eye and no time at all.

Before she's ready, the lock on YN's door clicks and swings open, and a procession of women in the same simple uniform Yoonji wears file in.

"Good morning, Madam," one of the ladies says, "Master Taehyung has sent us to prepare you for your wedding."

YN just blinks at them, sighing. When it's clear that YN isn't going to move on her own, one of the other ladies moves to her bedside and pulls the cover off of her frame. Someone brings a silken robe and glides it over her skin, tying it tightly around her waist.

YN winces as the silk digs into her sore spot but no one notices. They all crowd around her, bringing her into the massive closet and sitting her down in from of a giant vanity. They buzz around her like worker bees, discussing lipstick colors and hairstyles with fervor. YN doesn't pay them any attention, doing to her mental happy place.

In her head, she's back at university, studying for her degree and blissfully unaware of just how cruel the world can be.

The women move her face side to side as they pluck and wax and moisturize before applying what feels like a pound of makeup to her face. A few of them work on a manicure and pedicure while one picks out some lacy lingerie.

"Oh, Master Taehyung picked a beautiful one," the main lady says.

"You're so lucky, Madam," a different one says, "Master Taehyung is so handsome. Money, power, and good looks? What more could a girl want?"

She is dusting eyeshadow over YN's eyelids with a featherlight touch. It would be relaxing if YN wasn't about to marry a psychopath.

"Would you like to take my place then?" YN says before she can stop herself.

Bitterness overflows as they talk about YN's upcoming marriage as if she's a princess who's fallen in love with a charming prince.

The women fall quiet and an awkward silence blankets the room. YN opens her eyes and looks into the mirror, locking eyes with a very unamused Taehyung. He's hovering in the doorframe with a deadly look on his face. He stalks deeper into the room and places a hand on YN's shoulder, his expression brightening up as he looks at his workers.

"I love YN's sense of humor," he says, chuckling, "Isn't she so funny?"

Everyone joins in with superficial laughter but YN is petrified with Taehyung's hand on her. He doesn't squeeze or dig his nails into her as she expects but she doesn't trust him whatsoever.

"Would you mind leaving me alone with my fiancee for a few moments?" Taehyung says, "I want to say a few words to her before the wedding."

Despite the pleading look in her eyes, all of the women leave the two of them alone, even going so far as to shut the closet door behind them.

Taehyung lifts YN's face to look at her, reveling in the look of terror in her eyes.

"You're so beautiful, YN," he says, "When you stupidly burst into your parents' kitchen like a fool, I just knew that I wanted you. You're going to be so fun to destroy."

His touch is deceptively gentle.

"Why are you doing this?" YN asks, unable to look away from his deep gaze.

"Because I can," he says, "Because you don't want this. Any of the women affiliated with this gang would bend over backward for the position you're about to be forced into and yet here you are, looking like you'd rather be anywhere else but here. What's life without a challenge?"

"I hate you," YN snaps, "I'll always hate you."

"That's perfectly fine by me, darling," Taehyung says, "Hate me as much as you want. Love doesn't exist here. As long as you do as I say, I don't care what you feel. As long as you know that you're mine, you can let your little heart turn black with hate."

He sinks his teeth into the lobe of her ear, causing YN to wince. He pulls away, a cocky look on his face.

"Piss me off and you know what happens. But don't worry, I'll never hurt you somewhere where other people will see."

He pushes away from the vanity and begins to walk back out of the closet.

"I'm sure you'll look beautiful in the dress I picked out, YN. I'll see you at the alter."

Taehyung is gone as quickly as he came and the annoying workers are back again, this time notably less chatty than before. They finish up her makeup and hair, smoothing away the small mistakes Taehyung had implemented and don't give her a stitch of privacy as they tie and buckle her into the most uncomfortable lingerie she's ever seen. The dress they pull out of a garment bag is not her taste whatsoever but she doesn't say anything. In a way, she's kind of glad. This wedding has nothing to do with her. All of her childhood fantasies seem a million miles away from this disaster.

The dress doesn't even fit. It's at least a size and a half too small but that doesn't stop them from shoving her into it, pulling on the laces until she can barely breathe. She can't even bend over to pull her shoes on.

Jungkook appears when they are all finished, wordless and stoic. He leads her out of the room and through what feels like a million hallways, YN's feet hurting in the incredibly tall heels she was put into. YN tries her best to memorize the map for future use (or maybe escape) but she gets so confused that she gives up. Something tells her that it's exactly what Jungkook was going for.

Surprisingly, they don't end up in some gigantic room in this mansion. Jungkook takes her to a garage, assisting her into the backseat and sitting beside her.

"Where are we going?" YN asks.

Jungkook doesn't answer.

For a moment, YN considers jumping out of the car. She knows she wouldn't even make it to the door before Jungkook snatches her. YN's eyes flick up to the front seat and she notices that the man driving is the same one as from before. She doesn't know his name but she doesn't have anything else to look at so she finds herself studying him through the rearview mirror. Unlike Jungkook who looks tough and stoic with his filled out form and dozens of tattoos, the driver looks soft - nearly pretty.

YN wonders how he ended up here. Is he just another wolf in disguise? Or maybe he's here in a similar situation to her, working off debt with labor.

As if he feels her eyes on him, the driver lifts his gaze and smiles at her ever so slightly, the very first inkling of kindness anyone has given her since this nightmare started. YN returns it, a small smile gracing her face.

The car pulls over in front of a small church, something much more subdued than she would have expected given the ridiculous place Taehyung and his family live in.

Jungkook helps her out of the car with an iron grip, preventing her from bolting. There's a small waiting room inside and a single woman in uniform is waiting for her with a beautiful bouquet that she shoves into her hands.

"Don't fuck up," Jungkook says again.

The church doors open.

Chapter Six

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[padawanlost]

I still, up until this day, have no idea why the council held such a personal dislike towards anakin. Aside from the “he’s too young” or “he feels too deeply.” Didn’t anakin try to follow the rules? Unpopular opinion, but the fandom tends to drag how Anakin was the embodiment of rebellious and recklessness at every turn but... he’s really not?

The Council’s behavior around Anakin had NOTHING to do with who he was as a person. Just like Obi-wan’s ‘pathetic life-form’ dismiss, the Council’s rejection of Anakin happened before they even knew what he was. People use Yoda’s ‘fear is the path to dark side’ speech to validate de Council’s decision but the truth is that they had already dismissed Anakin before that. and even if they hadn’t, it baffles me how some people have no trouble with how a 9 years old child was treated. Anyone who looks at 9 years old and gives up on them because ‘they don’t like a good person’ or that they are ‘beyond helping’ is an asshole. The audience may know, but at that point not a single character knew what would become of Anakin. 

Like Anakin, I was well past infancy when I began my training at the Jedi Temple. There was much concern about whether I was too old to learn the ways of the Force, that my Cerean childhood might cloud my judgments, but … I am not certain of how to express myself. My mind tells me I should feel empathy for Anakin, but my instinct tells me something else. [Ki-Adi-Mundi in Ryder’s Windham’s Jedi vs. Sith: The Essential Guide to the Force]

What disturbs me most of all is Anakin Skywalker himself. It is not in my nature to make assumptions about anyone based on appearance, and yet I find it almost alarming that the boy looks so entirely unremarkable. If I didn’t know better, I would have dismissed him as a harmless raga-muffin. [Ki-Adi-Mundi in Ryder’s Windham’s Jedi vs. Sith: The Essential Guide to the Force]

This is cruel. A raga-muffin is defined as ‘a poorly clothed often dirty child’. They recognize Anakin’s extreme situation, they know he was a former slavery who had just been separated from his mother but their reaction is: ‘I don’t trust him’. a bunch of grown men treat a poor, traumatized child coldly because they don’t trust HIM. Is that the wisdom I am supposed to blindly admire and defend? The one that dismiss everyone who doesn’t fit in? No, thanks.

There was no sympathy for Anakin.

Inside, Anakin Skywalker faced the Jedi Council, standing in the same place Qui-Gon Jinn had stood some hours earlier. He was nervous at first, brought into the chamber by Qui-Gon, then left alone with the twelve members of the Council. Standing in the mosaic circle and ringed by the silent assemblage, awestruck and uncertain of what was expected of him, he felt vulnerable and exposed. The eyes of the Jedi were distant as they viewed him, but he sensed they were looking not past him, but inside. They began to question him then, without preliminary introductions or explanations, without expending any effort at all to make him feel comfortable or welcome. He knew some of them by name, for Qui-Gon had described a few, and he was quick to put faces to names. They questioned him at great length, testing memory and knowledge, seeking insights at which he could only guess. They knew of his existence as a slave. They knew of his background on Tatooine, of his mother and his friends, of his Podracing, of Watto, of everything factual and past, of the order of his life.  [Terry Brooks. The Phantom Menace]

And yet, Anakin tried so hard to fit in. This super rebellious, ‘fuck you, council’ Anakin the fandom uses to justify the Council’s behavior only exists in the clones wars (2008). Yes, Anakin have always broken rules and had difficulties acting as the perfect Jedi but he never openly defied the Council. If you watch the movies it becomes obvious that Anakin always submitted to them (even when he didn’t like). His greatest defiance (his marriage to Padmé) shouldn’t count as justification for the Council’s behavior because they found out the truth. 

Anakin was submissive. The only time openly challenged the Council to the their face was when they denied the rank of Master and we we all know how that short-lived:

Most of the time, Anakin was really insecure. When he was growing up he desperately needed Obi-wan’s approval. Later he needed Padmé’s support to go after Shmi and later Obi-wan. 

[Padmé] put the cup down on the small table beside her. “Even though you’re concerned for Anakin—and I know you are, so don’t bother with the stoic-Jedi act—I imagine you’re not very pleased with him right now. But you should know, Obi-Wan, he did not disobey his orders lightly.” Startled, he stared at her. Then he pulled a wry face. “Which time do you mean? When he left Naboo for Tatooine, or Tatooine for Geonosis?” “Both times. Obi-Wan, no matter what you might think, he takes being a Jedi very seriously. It’s all he talks about. Being a Jedi, and not disappointing you. He—” [Karen Miller. Star Wars: The Clone Wars: Wild Space]

He was the Chosen One, they told him. He was supposed to bring balance to the Force. Anakin thought that some little extra support might go with being the Chosen One, a helping hand or at least some understanding from the Jedi Council, but instead he was passed around like an unwelcome burden, ending up with Qui-Gon Jinn and then Kenobi because nobody else would have him. His chosen status meant less than nothing; it felt more like a stigma. And they wondered why he was difficult at times. Maybe they didn’t want balance, whatever that was. Maybe nobody liked a Jedi who was that different. He felt like an embarrassment to them. I do everything you ask of me. I try so hard. When is it going to be enough? When are you going to say, “Okay, Anakin Skywalker, you’re good enough”? Karen Traviss’s The Clone Wars

And even if he hadn’t been, NOTHING justifies the treatment he got as a little child because you cannot use something that didn’t happen as a reason. In real life, if someone mistreats a kid because they fear the kid might grow up to be a criminal it would be considered abuse. But because it’s Anakin – the butt of every joke – the cold treatment Anakin receives as child is somehow a beautiful example of the Council’s compassion and forethought. 

It’s kind of funny. I mean, if the Council was right to treat a 9 years with disdain because the kid was going to grow up to be evil I wonder how fans justify Yoda admiring Papatine – an actual Sith Lord – for years?

The Jedi were sworn to uphold the Republic and protect its ideals, not entangle themselves in the fortunes of any one Chancellor. Political careers were not their affair. Personalities were supposed to be irrelevant. But somehow Palpatine was changing that. Not by being a bully or imposing his will. Quite the opposite: he was constantly resisting the Senate’s eagerness for him to assume more and more executive powers. He resisted, the Senate insisted, so reluctantly Palpatine agreed. And every time he acquiesced to its requests, he turned once more to the Jedi for advice. It was hardly an ideal situation. The Jedi Council was not just another branch of the executive office. But how, in good conscience, could it refuse to aid a man who so humbly petitioned for their assistance? A man who championed them in the Senate at every opportunity? Who had worked tirelessly for peace since assuming the highest political office in the galaxy and was now faced with the daunting, terrifying task of keeping their vast Republic intact? How could the Jedi Council turn its back on such a man? Clearly, it couldn’t. Clearly, in the face of these extraordinary times, the Jedi must set aside their traditions and come to the aid of the man a galaxy looked to as its savior. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: The Clone Wars: Wild Space]

Somehow, I guess it’s okay to treat 9 years old Anakin poorly because he *might* be evil at the same it’s also okay to treat a sith lord with the uttermost respect and bending the rules to accommodate him because he *is* evil but they don’t know it yet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

So, this is not just about Anakin and how the fandom has a lot of trouble sympathizing with him. This is also about how the fandom fails to recognize the Council’s shortcomings.

Not to quote Filoni again but...”I’ve always felt that one of Anakin’s downfalls, like it’s never that Anakin was innately going to be evil, but the people around him, the Jedi, in their lack of compassion, in being so selfless that they almost forgot to care.” 

[socratoteles]

A year to get Ph.D in letting go

The last time I was here, I wrote that perhaps it was time for me to go out and just enjoy the world. And amid the global pandemic, I sort of managed to do that. It was such a lifesaver in a year of goodbyes. I`ll get to that, but let me begin with my coronavirus scare.

On March 4 last year, I was away in Bandung, aware but not worried of some obscure virus that triggered a total lockdown in some Chinese cities. That very same day was also the time when my colleagues came in contact with a man who later confirmed of having contracted COVID-19.

That was how close I was of contracting the virus. Had I not taken a paid leave to write last year’s essay in the city where I was born, chances were high that I was another case as well, at that early stage of the pandemic too. I`m still familiar with the helplessness that came after I checked in to a hospital only to being denied the test (the nurse reasoned that the contact with my colleagues, who might catch the virus from the confirmed man, cannot be categorized as close contact).

And that experience, of confusion and fear of infecting loved ones, left a lasting impression that shaped my behavior going forward. After all, it takes a pandemic to make wearing mask and washing hands could made the difference between life and death.

Covid-induced isolation meant that I spent most of my time being holed up in my room for the past 12 months. To this day the side effects of this solitary existence is still beyond my full grasp. On one hand, this situation had brought out my inner resiliency, resourcefulness and adaptability in the long days and night when things were just so dark. On the other hand, it also forced me to deal with unresolved traumas and numerous intrusive thoughts, which I will get into later.

People get really creative during the long locked-down days, spending it doing viral social media challenges one after the other. Videoconferencing become a thing on its own and for some reason loads of folks played a game named Among Us too, perhaps to remind themselves of the interactions cruelly torn apart because of the virus.

There was also a newfound awareness on class too, because the coronavirus disproportionately affected different individuals with different income level. At least on my part, I was lucky that essential workers (the pandemic elevated the phrase into such a buzzword) near my place were safe and somehow never contracted the virus. It is worth mentioning that I definitely cannot survive this long if not for the minimarket workers, ride-hailing drivers and dozens of cooks, all of whom must have worked in long hours, despite knowing the risk, just to keep their families fed.

Others, however, were not so lucky. the SARS-CoV-2 had infected more than a million Indonesians a year after it was officially detected in these shores. Millions have lost their jobs as economic activities ground to a halt. The place I currently work was not an exception. Massive layoffs would have happened in my office had the shareholders have enough money to properly compensate their workers.

It was an obviously eye-opening experience to calculate my own severance pay and make sure I could survive on that for as long as possible. The prospect of losing your income during the pandemic –which should be that particular time for anyone to hold on to their what-ifs money– was really awful.

This is the paragraph where I say that I wish nothing but the best for those who left the company simply because they deserve nothing less than that.

But there was another reason why I signed up for a help from professional therapist last year. In the latter part of last year, things got very, very grim. At the risk of oversimplification, let’s just say that I was unable to express my feelings properly to a girl that I really liked, right at the most critical moment when probably both of us needed support from each other. She eventually left with another guy.

Days before that fateful event happened, I was quietly bearing my own burden. After years of convincing myself that I was okay, I was, in fact, not okay, at least mentally. Years of trauma have caught up. It’s too personal to even spell that out here but I`ll just quote this Youtuber just to describe a fitting metaphor. 

“You see, human identity is like a house of card. One that’s always expanding. A story that is ever developing and always referred back to because every memory becomes a new card. Trauma is when a card doesn’t fit because the experience itself is so painful that it’s incompatible with everything else and if you become obsessed with making it fit the whole house of cards can fall apart and you lose the confidence to build anything new.”

Basically, my house of cards came crashing down, hard. At a time, it reduced me into this insecure soul who were unsure that people will accept me for who I was.

The last time I felt this way was a couple years back when my parent’s divorce was formalized. A girlfriend turned ex-girlfriend at that time too. Apparently, the universe has a cruel sense of timing to combine existential crisis with a relationship one.

The road to recovery was rocky, to say the least. I know something fundamental must be addressed, hence the therapy session.

I`m grateful for the company of my friends, either offline or online. (yes, I had become quite loose in terms of isolation because I know I had to prioritize my mental health; COVID-19 be damned). I`m also glad to say that because I talked with my friends about this issue, some of them were also encouraged to seek professional help.

At the height of my despair, I watched La Grande Bellezza (probably for a half a dozen time already) again and found this quote, spoken by the protagonist Jep Gambardella:

“We’re all on the brink of despair. We can only look each other in the face, keep each other company, kid each other a bit. Don’t you agree?”

Someone was kind enough to upload the entire scene on Youtube.

I decided that all bets are off, so I purchased books, many of which had been on my to-read list for years because I know I`ll have to read it when I search for a catharsis. That was how I finally read the Camus’ Myth of Sisyphus, from which I managed to understand what he meant by the absurdities of life. Into the Wild, excellently written by Jon Krakauer, broke my heart too because of Chris Mccandles’ tales somehow mimicked my own, minus the grand adventure part. I finally read Alan Watts too, from whom I learned that efforts to avoid from pain is painful in itself.

And music, a constant part of my life as I know it, helps too. I was saved because Fleet Foxes released a life-affirming record that fittingly spoke about relief, gratitude, and seasonal rebirth. During the darkest days I was just alone with my guitar in my room, terribly singing out the words that these musicians carved out of their soul to release my emotional burden. I was particularly grateful for being reminded time and again that “no one gets it right” but “we’re all supposed to try”.

I made a playlist containing songs that for me served as a reminder to be gentle for myself. You can check that here.

All of that was a roundabout way to say that I indeed, was able to go out amid the pandemic. On one afternoon I just said fuck it, I need to go out and see things. That led me to a weekly socially-distanced walk around the neighborhood, which was therapeutic in itself because the walks allowed me to be fully present and be sensitive to the sights and sounds and smells around me. Nothing is more liberating that allowing your feet to go where it you to go.

I don’t have the full answers yet, but as I wrote his essay, I`m glad to be able to say that I have rebuild my house of cards, with some of the bad cards included as well. It was quite a bumpy ride but when I looked back, this particular tweet was eerily prescient because it rings true today as was the day I tweeted it.

But I walked away from the depths of that bottomless pit not only with knowledge, but also of understanding the parts that made me who I am. I`m also humbled after I saw the abyss for the second time because it suggests that there might be another time when I found myself on the edge of despair.

I`ll never forget the fact that these hard-won lessons came on the back of years of pain, grief and suffering. But it also came on the heels of moments of simple walk in the setting sun and feeling the breeze on the beach too. In fact, I have made it my mission going forward to acknowledge both good and bad things as they are. Because forcing yourself to remember all the bright things when you were in the dark, and vice versa, is a form of self-torture. I hope this essay somehow do that mission justice.

I have said goodbyes to many things in life as the crisis comes and goes, but 2020 goodbyes were simply different. So much so that I thought I have a PhD in letting go already, however absurd that idea is.

[7-wonders]

Hints of Kindness

Summary: With Duncan, it seems to be one step forward and two steps back.

Other works in the Beauty and the Beast!Duncan Shepherd AU: Wilted Roses Smell Just as Sweet | This Place of Wrath and Tears | A Gentleman’s Guide to Wooing Your Prisoner | This Cruel Trick of Fate | Down the Rabbit Hole

When you wake up the next morning, soft sunlight streams through the windows, the rain having subsided sometime in the night. Sitting up, you note that all fingers and toes are in tact and moving as they’re meant to move. The only question that you have is where the creature that rescued you last night went?

“You’re awake.” You look in the direction of the door instinctually, feeling stupid when you see that there’s no physical form there. “How are you feeling?”

“Um, pretty good. I still have all my extremities.” You show her your fingers to demonstrate, and she chuckles warmly. Suddenly, you miss your mom.

“There’s a warm bath waiting for you upstairs, if you’re wanting to wash up.” A bath does sound really good right now. You pull a blanket around you like a cloak, extremely aware of your nudity, and smile at the voice.

“Thank you...”

“That’s right, we haven’t met before! I’m Cordelia. I oversee everything that keeps this place running.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Cordelia.” Glancing around subtly, you can’t find any sign of Shepherd lurking around. “He’s not here. He went back to his quarters at around sunrise, when he was sure that you were going to be okay.”

Your cheeks go hot, and you bite your lip in embarrassment. “I--uh...” clasping the blanket tightly, you stand up and start walking towards the bathroom to escape this awkward situation. “Thank you for the bath, Cordelia.”

“Come back down once you’re ready and we’ll have breakfast ready.”

Not to be dramatic, but you’re pretty sure this is the best bath that you’ve ever taken. The tub is huge, and there’s all sorts of bubbles for you to put in. You could stay in here all day, and you almost do before the rumbling of your stomach overpowers your desire to doze in a bath. Begrudgingly, you climb out and towel yourself off.

The closet, which you had bypassed in search of extra blankets the night before, is fully stocked. The clothes fit for the chilly weather, thankfully, and you pull on jeans and a Patagonia pullover. Your hair is still wet, but the manor is warm enough that you don’t worry about it taking much longer to air dry.

You start to maneuver down the numerous hallways that remind you of a labyrinth, hoping that you’ll be able to make it back downstairs. Rounding a corner, you see a flash of dark hair disappear down another hallway. Considering everybody else in this place is invisible, there’s only one person (thing? creature?) it could be.

“Hey!” you call, picking up the pace to try and reach him. Although he acts like he didn’t hear you, you continue to be persistent. “I can see you, y’know. And I know it’s you since you’re the only other visible person in this place.”

“What do you want?” he asks gruffly. He’s not in the hallway when you reach it, but his voice sounds close enough that you assume he’s taking refuge in one of the rooms in said hallway. Ironic, considering you saw what he looked like last night.

“I just wanted to say thank you, for saving me last night.”

“Just make sure you don’t try anything that stupid again, or else I might not be so heroic.”

Your blood boils at the audacity of this man, and you see red for a second. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Dealing with Jim through the highs and lows of his addiction has taught you how to be extremely blunt, which is proving helpful now. “You would think that, since you’re apparently the reason everybody’s stuck here, you would get off of your pretentious high horse!”

“Who told you that I was the reason for this?”

“Nobody, I just made the assumption based on the hatred that everybody here has for you. I get it, you’re upset that life gave you these cards. But you have to realize everybody else around you is going through this too, and try to find some sort of camaraderie in that instead of moping around and acting like you’re the king of the castle. I’m sure, based on the size of this house, that you were raised to think you’re special. In this case, you’re not.”

He’s silent, and you can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Not wanting to stick around to find out, you turn to leave.

Your name being called behind you stops you from leaving.

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. I...dealing with this hasn’t been easy, and I won’t lie that I’ve taken it out on those around me. It’s not like they cared for me much before, anyways.”

“I don’t know how or why you ended up like this, but that’s the past. Maybe, if you reached out to them and showed a little kindness, you’d find that they care for you more than you think.”

After you leave to go downstairs, Duncan lets out a deep breath. His heart is pounding out of his chest, but not from rage. He feels jittery, like he’s had a bunch of coffee. Never has anybody spoke to Duncan like that, and he has to admit to himself that the fire you hold within you is, frankly, quite hot. Did he get through to you, only for his boneheaded actions to set him a step back? Regardless, Duncan’s starting to warm up to the challenge of falling in love with you, and vice versa.