#agent I told her a bit about how being homeless was terrifying and I really feel like having a safe stable living environment will heal part

[madigoround]

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Good luck with your new blog!❤ Can I request imagine where the new Fem Blackwatch agent gets bullied a lot bc she is emotionless and doesn't react, everyone thinks she is weird, and then mccree notice her one night sneaking out doing something super sweet like feeding homeless puppies or helping some orphans?? I need more fluff in my life Also if you make the reader so short I will appreciate it! Sorry if this is too complicated and Thank you ❤

(POV: You)

You were told beforehand that the base was a lot colder than your previous assignment at this time of year and that you should bring some warmer equipment. Now that you are sitting in the small cold room you have been provided for the duration of your stay, you are starting to regret that you didn´t heed the advice your superiors gave you. As you have now frozen for several hours, you decide that it would be better to go and tie up a few loose ends, than to simply sit in your tiny quarters the entire night. You grab your regular clothes and your coat and begin making your way out of the HQ.

You are not especially worried about anybody questioning your absence, as it is already too late for anyone to be awake. On the other hand, most people never really pay much attention to you, mostly due to your emotionless exterior. The fact that you often remain indifferent, when faced with shocking or terrifying situations, has garnered you a fair bit of ridicule from your “comrades”, who you often find talking behind your back or overlooking you as if they didn´t see you at all. Even with the scorn on your mind, you remained silent to their idiocy. Due to your short stature, you learned early in your life that there are other ways to win fights than with the fist, although you are pretty good with that approach as well.

Unbeknownst to you, however, somebody else has noticed what was going on around you. He is also a member of Blackwatch, and quite possibly the only one (except yourself of course) who is still awake. His name is Jesse McCree, and speaking of him:

(POV: Jesse)

Jesse is sitting in the boardroom, wide awake. It isn´t often that he, or anyone for that matter, get to relax, so everybody makes sure to enjoy it. Jesse had, long ago, learned that there can be far between a good night of sleep, so he always tries to make the most of it. This night was different though. This night is one of those nights, where he just can´t stop the flood of memories for his past. Everything, from his childhood to Deadlock to now just flows together and churns around in his head, making him unable to sleep. So here he is. Up and about at 3 am with no end in sight.

That is until he hears a sudden ruckus, somewhere nearby though. He is surprised by the sudden noise, and also confused as to why anybody but him would be up at this hour of the night. He stands up and goes to investigate. As he turns around the corridor, he spots you on your way out of HQ, with a backpack on your shoulders. As he is a relatively high-ranking member of Blackwatch, he knows that there are no mission details or assignments left to do, that could explain your sudden departure, which leads him to follow after you. 

He mainly follows to understand why you are leaving at night, but also to know more about you. Most people with the same rank as you are simple goons with next to no recognizable features, while you, on the other hand, excel in both combat and strength, despite you being noticeably shorter than the other members (he has caught himself smiling at the thought of you, small as you are, beating some sense into people twice your size, more than he´d like to admit). You also remain remarkably calm, almost emotionless, during stressful situations, which has in fact also earned you the silent approval of Gabriel Reyes. The other low-level members didn´t see your positive sides, however, and routinely mocked your stoic appearance.

As the cowboy has now tailed you for several minutes, you suddenly come to a stop in an alleyway, sparsely lit with a small lamp on the wall. As he discretely peers into the alley, he notices you sitting down on one knee, shuffling around with the contents of a large cardboard box. As you move to pull something out of the box, he silently readies his Peacekeeper, in case it is a weapon (If you wanted to shoot a few of the people that have mocked you, he would honestly wouldn´t blame you, although he hopes that he isn´t one of the people on your list).

His thoughts are quickly halted, however, as he suddenly hears the thing you picked up begin to meow. He stretches his neck a little more and now sees you holding a very small and quite frankly malnourished orange kitten in your hand. As you put it down on the ground, he sees you do the same with two other kittens (One black, the other brown). He is a little confused as to what you are doing but decides to not intervene. When all the kittens are sitting safely on the ground, cuddling up to you, you open your backpack and pick up water bottles and small packets of food and place them on the ground.

You pour a little of the water into your cupped hand, and the kittens happily drink it all up. After they are done drinking, you pour a little bit of food onto the ground, and gently pet the kittens on their backs as they eat, before standing back up and rummaging through your backpack one more time. This time you pull out a blanket and fit it into one of the dry cardboard boxes so that the kittens can keep warm in the cold weather.  As the kittens appear to be satisfied you gently pick them up, one-by-one, and place them into their new home. You pour out some more food for them and begin putting the now empty water bottles and food packs back in your bag.

As you are packing up your stuff, McCree is shocked by your complete change in demeanour, as you go from your normal stoic self to being smiling and affectionate as you help the poor creatures. As you are ready to leave, Jesse decides to talk with you and begins to approach you.

(POV: You)

As you finish packing the now empty materials, you can´t help but feel like you are being watched. As you crane your head and look behind you, your heart immediately begins pounding as you see Jesse McCree walking towards you. As he is almost right in front of you, you lower your eyes to the ground, scared that he might think that you are weird, like the others. As you mentally prepare for the normal barrage of mockery and weird looks, you’re shocked to instead her Jesse chuckle as he says, “So there is a heart beating in that chest of yours after all darlin´”

You quickly raise your head, both surprised and confused by the friendly cowboy. Jesse notices you shock and quickly reassures you. “Don´t worry about your little thing back there. I know enough about people to know that you´d like me to keep silent about your soft side” he promises while smiling at you. You return his smile (Maybe the overconfident cowboy isn´t as bad as you first thought).

As you are focused mostly on your own thoughts and happiness, the gunslinger interjects once more “Say darlin´ it´s getting pretty cold outside and I don´t know a lot about pets, but I know that staying out in the cold isn´t got for anybody”. He takes a look at his watch and looks up at you “Well, it seems it´s almost morning again. I´m sure there´s a shelter somewhere in a town like this, so how about we find these little fellas a nice home eh?”

You stand completely still for a second, completely unable to understand the sudden friendliness and helpfulness you are being shown. As you look at Jesse, your eyes almost tear up from happiness, but you steel yourself, having more important things to worry about. After regaining your composure, you answer his question “Yeah, I think that’s a really good idea. Wouldn’t want them to freeze to death out here”. Jesse simply nods his head and walks over to the box, lifting it up before walking back over to you. “Well,” he says, “Shall we?”. You nod your head “Yes, I think we shall”.

As the two of you walk out of the alley and into the centre of the town to look for an animal shelter, you begin to feel warm inside, knowing that you´ve found some who understands who you are and likes who you are. You´ve found a friend. You turn your head towards your companion and quietly say “Jesse?”. “Yeah Shortstack?” He replies, with such a teasing smile that you can´t help but chuckle, as you answer, “Thank you”. He turns his head back forward, saying “No problem darlin´”. The rest of the trip you two walk in comfortable silence, the only noise coming from the kittens who purr and snore the whole time.

[alphacrone]

Country Strong

How Eric Bittle Changed the Face of Country

Part of the Blue-Eyed Jack ‘Verse

(TW: brief mentions of suicide and homelessness, major homophobia, past death threats, vague mentions of threatened terrorism/mass shooting)

The players hustled across the ice in a blur of yellow and blue. The coaches stood to the side, shouting instructions. The air in the arena was frigid and electric with the energy of these men.

This was the last place I ever expected to interview a country singer.

“Thank you for meeting me here,” Eric Bittle said as I approach, hugging me like we were lifelong friends. “Me and Jack are about to go on our own roadies and won't see each other for a couple of weeks. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to watch his practice. Lord knows when I'll really get to watch him play again.”

The Jack he's referring to is Jack Zimmermann, the third out player in the NHL and Bittle’s boyfriend of two years.

Surprisingly, Bittle was tight-lipped when it came to his most talked-about romance. “It's nothing personal,” he said with a wry grin. “But we get so little privacy in our lines of work, I need a little bit of our relationship to be just between us. I hope you can understand that.”

I could, and so I asked about his band instead, and the recent loss of guitarist Justin Oluransi.

“Oh, I cried for days when he said he wanted to leave,” Bittle told me with a laugh. “Ransom -- that's what me and the boys call him -- Ransom’s my best friend in the whole world. Of course I was terribly sad that we wouldn't be on the same team anymore. But he's also the most talented performer I've ever known, and I am so, so happy to see him finally get the recognition he deserves. And who knows?” Bittle added with a wink. “Maybe we’ll go on tour together again soon.”

If that was a hint about Bitty & the Biscuits’ upcoming “secret project,” Bittle certainly wouldn't elaborate, no matter how much I wheedled and wormed. Eventually, the topic drifted to his rough beginnings, and an important reunion he had just this past summer.

“Everyone and their mother knows I ran away from home at 18,” Bittle said dismissively. “Wound up in Nashville waiting tables and playing in these dirty little dives. It was like a Cinderella story, getting found by my agent and having my demo picked up by a real label. I haven't been a God-fearing man in a long time, but it certainly made me feel like I had a guardian angel watching out for me.”

Bittle’s story is well-known in the country music world: fearing the worst if he came out to his friends and family in his small hometown, Bittle left home with his life savings stuffed in a sock and a second-hand guitar on his back, somehow making it all the way from Madison, Georgia to Nashville without his family knowing where he'd gone. It would be several years before they'd even learn he was alive.

“I regret it now,” Bittle said. Up until now he'd been all smiles and laughter, but he grew sober as conversation turned to his parents. “They thought I'd killed myself or starved to death or became homeless, with how vague my goodbye note had been. I never called, never wrote. Mama found me on Spotify.” He laughed at this, but it was bitter. “She was listening to one of those ‘Up and Coming’ playlists and recognized my voice. That was a year after I'd left home. She tried to get in touch then, but...well, I'd been right about my family’s reaction to me being gay, and she was real hurt that I'd just up and left. But we've been writing letters -- so old fashioned, I know -- and this past July she came to one of my shows and we got dinner and talked all night long. We’ve got a lot to get past, but she's my mama. I love her more than anything.”

That heart-warming reunion came only a month before the infamous death threats Bittle received that shook the industry to its core. The incident, still hotly talked about online and in music circles, has been compared to the death threats received by Dixie Chicks lead singer Natalie Maines in 2003 after criticizing then-President George W. Bush. 

“Getting those death threats was honestly a relief,” Bittle said. “My entire career, being gay in country, I was just waiting for something like that to happen. Not that it wasn't terrifying,” he added, throwing a hand over his heart. “But it was something I knew I'd have to face. These two men -- both behind bars now, thank goodness -- were threatening to show up at my show in Oklahoma with guns if I didn’t stop ‘promoting perversion.’ Sitting backstage, warming up with my boys, that was the most scared I've ever been in my life. But then, when I walked out on that stage, seeing all those young people out there waving rainbow flags and singing along to my songs...that was the best performance I've ever given.” Bittle laughed, bumping my arm with his elbow. “It was like that calm feeling you get when you free fall on a roller coaster. I knew that if those men got past security, I could die any second and I wanted to go out singing my heart out.”

Luckily for Bittle and everyone in the venue that evening, the two would-be gunmen did not follow through on their threat, and were arrested a few months later on unrelated charges. “Good riddance,” Bittle said cheerfully, smile wide and bright again. “Folks with that kind of ugly hate in their hearts get what’s coming to them, in the end. I’m just glad no one got hurt in the process.”

Before I left Bittle to watch his boyfriend’s team scrimmage, I had to ask one last question: what would you say to your younger self?

“You'll be okay,” Bittle said. “It'll be hard. People will be cruel. But they'll also be kind. You'll find family in your band. You'll fall in love with a great guy. You'll do what you love and love what you do and be a role model for people out there who are scared and lonely. Oh, and write your poor mother,” he added with a wink. “She’ll be your number one fan, in the end. You come out on top, kid.” 

[OMGCP Country Singer AU]

[My writing tag]

[My online novel, The Discourt Knife]

[kpopfanficsforthesoul]

Tetralogy- Zico, Namjoon, and Sooyoung- Part One

Genre: Fluff/Drama, Roommate!AU, Alien!AU

Prompt: You and your three roommates were all crammed into a ridiculously small apartment, so you ended up being closer than family. You’ve never been happier since they took you in, but what will happen when you discover who they really are?

“IT’S HORROR MOVIE NIGHT!” Zico bellowed, bursting through the front door of your dinky apartment door and holding up three DVDs as if they were an Oscar Award. 

“You’re gonna break the door off the hinges!” Sooyoung criticized from her spot on the counter.

“No kidding!” Namjoon began, getting up from his seat on the couch to get a drink of water. “You’d think he would have learned after the three previous times he did!”

“Y/N!” Zico wailed, running over to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and gave you a pouty lip. “They’re being mean to me!”

You were standing at the microwave, waiting for the popcorn to be done. “Guys, you know Zico didn’t mean to break the door.”

“Or the window.” Namjoon added. 

“Alright, God of Destruction, let’s talk about how much stuff you’ve broken throughout the course of living here!” Sooyoung yelled at him from across the room. 

“Oh come on, I thought we were past this!” Namjoon protested, ripping his earbuds out with a dimpled smile. 

It was times like these that you remembered just how much you loved your roommates. It was about two years ago, when you were all freshmen. The University decided to tell you at the last minute that they had run out of dormitory space. Sooyoung found you crying in frustration at a nearby coffee shop, and being the caring person she is, invited you to stay with her and her two friends. There was a short conversation between them all before you moved in that you had overheard. 

“Sooyoung, we’re not exactly here to make friends.” You remembered Namjoon saying. 

“Well, if we don’t help her, this girl will be homeless in the street.” You heard her retort.

“She seems really nice. And pretty too!” Zico energetically told them. “It’s not like she’s going to disrupt our quest.”

Despite their initial doubts, they now couldn’t imagine living without you. You were a family, all each other had. Zico was a music major, Namjoon was a creative writing major, and Sooyoung was a fashion major. You however, were an astronomy major. You never understood why, but when you first told your roommates this, they all widened their eyes. 

“Why don’t you go put in the movie, sweetie?” you told Zico, trying to change the subject. He nodded and scurried into the living room. Saturdays were always the best days of the week. All of you got a break from work and school and just got to hang out.

You followed him in and plopped down next to Namjoon. He turned his phone off to the side and spread his long arms over the top of the couch. 

“I got the blanket!” Sooyoung declared, sitting down on the other side of you. 

Zico whipped his head around while standing by the TV. “Yah, Sooyoung!” he scowled. “I wanna sit by Y/N!” You always wondered why your friends never used honorifics. Namjoon never called Zico hyung, and both never called Sooyoung noona. 

“No! I can’t sit on the edge of the couch during a horror movie!” Sooyoung retaliated, clutching onto your arm. 

Zico bellowed what sounded like a war cry and jumped on top of both of you, trying to wiggle a spot in between the two of you. 

“Zico, stop, I’m sitting in the middle!”

“No, I wanna sit next to Y/N!”

“Both of you stop ripping her in half!” Namjoon proclaimed. “Zico, your elbow is currently in my ribcage!” 

“This movie is so good! Even better than the first one!” Zico said on the edge of the couch cushion. “Sooyoung, you’re hogging the blanket!” There was only one blanket and four of you, so you were all huddled up, sharing little bits of it. 

“It comforts me!” she retorted, hands over her eyes. Sooyoung was one of those that acted all tough and told people she loved horror movies, but then got super scared when she actually started watching it. She was practically sitting on your lap. “Aish, this is so scary…” 

“How can you be so terrified? This movie is nothing like the book…” Namjoon assured, flipping through the pages. 

You leaned your head against his shoulder. “Shh, Namjoon, you’re ruining the movie.” 

The screen soon returned to black, concluding that the movie had ended. 

“Is it over?” Sooyoung stuttered, peeking out from behind her eyes. 

Zico rolled his eyes. “Yes, ya chicken, the scary monster is gone!” 

“You know what’ll make us all feel better?” you began, trying to make it sound like you were talking to everyone and not just Sooyoung. Zico gasped. You and Namjoon shared knowing glances. 

“MIDNIGHT MARIO CART TOURNAMENT!”

“You want some food?” Namjoon asked you, opening the pantry. You had both left the living room to stretch your legs. 

“Yeah, I’m starving!” you told him. You sat down at the small circular kitchen table. Distant shouts could be heard from a few feet away. 

“Why is it always those two that end up competing for the top spot?” Namjoon inquired, dimples protruding from his smile once again. You both glanced over at your two friends in the living room. 

“Yah, Zico, stop distracting me!” Sooyoung grunted, slapping his arm away from her. 

“Never! I’m gonna win!” he declared, biting his tongue in concentration. 

“Sometimes I really question if they’re the older ones.” you commented. You and Namjoon always felt like the mom and dad of the friendship. 

Namjoon chuckled at you, then looked back to the pantry. “Oh no.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Looks like we’re all out of chips and instant ramen.” he said nonchalantly.

“But… that’s the only food we eat.” you told him.

“Exactly.” He threw on a black hoodie and walked into the living room. 

The two friends overheard your conversation. 

“Joon, it’s 2 AM!” Sooyoung argued. 

“Emergency run to the supermarket, we’re out of food, and only one of us can ride in the cart!” 

“Stop here slave!” Zico decreed, holding up a hand. 

Sooyoung gritted her teeth and pushed her arms forward. The cart when sailing into a bread shelf, with Zico in it. 

“That was uncalled for!” the younger whined, throwing the fallen rolls back in their proper place. 

“And throwing me out of the cart after I had already gotten in it just so you could be pushed around isn’t? she retaliated. 

“Nevermind that, do you guys want shrimp or chicken ramen?” Namjoon asked, examining the shelf. 

“I’ll eat any.” Sooyoung told him, leaning against the handle of the shopping cart.

“You sure do eat a lot for someone so slender!” you told her, receiving a smile. 

“OH MY GOD, GUYS, THERE’S A PURIKURA PHOTO BOOTH!!!” Zico yelled, excitedly pointing at it. You all smiled at each other before springing into action. Namjoon dropped the ramen he was looking at and linked arms with you to run over to the booth, and Sooyoung quickly grabbed the cart and practically flew over to you.

You realized what a sight you all must be. Four college kids in sweats and disheveled hair, one in a shopping cart, at a super market at two in the morning to buy instant ramen, flying through the aisles and screaming over a photobooth.

“Squeeze, squeeze!” you directed, pushing everyone into the booth. “Someone will probably have to stand on the seat in the back.” Soon you were all sat down and started the process.

“Whoever’s adding these sparkly hearts on the frame needs to stop…” Namjooon commented in between photos. 

“Sooyoung!” you exclaimed. 

“It wasn’t me, I swear!” she argued, throwing up her hands.

Zico giggled from his place on the left. 

“ZICO I SWEAR TO GOD”

“I’m home!” you declared as you walked through the front door. No response. 

It was Thursday, and back to the normal schedule. You got off from work early. Usually, everyone was home by now…

“Sooyoung? Zico? Namjoon?” you asked, walking through the apartment. No signs of them anywhere. You wandered into the back half of the house to search in their rooms. You peeked in your room. Usually Sooyoung would be sprawled out across the floor doing some fashion sketches for class, but she wasn’t. You had to admit, it was strange that they would all leave without telling you. You walked out and looked at the door of Namjoon and Zico’s room. Now that you thought about it, you had never been in their room. You slowly walked towards the door and creeped inside. No one. 

However, something did catch your eye. The inside looked about five times bigger than it did from the outside. The side walls were book shelves. This room didn’t look like it belonged in an apartment the size of yours. As you walked in, the walls seemed to keep extending, getting longer and longer. You were starting to get a little freaked out. The door looked a lot farther away than it did when you first thought you had reached the end. 

You went over the the book shelf and picked up a black spiral notebook. Next to it was a container of pens. “Earth Progress Reports: Agent N.” It read. You furrowed your brows before flipping open to the first page. 

A paragraph was written in strange writing. There were dots, shapes, triangles, and squiggly lines. However, right under it was an English translation. 

“Year Two. Month 4. Day 22.”

Sooyoung and I have finally grasped the concept of the planet’s internal heating. After intense observation, we have observed over ninety galaxies from this planet alone. I feel that the great leader will be very pleased with our studies.”

“Zico has just finished repairing the ship. We should be able to make a short trip home to deliver samples of Earth soil in four days.”

You counted on your fingers. This was written four days ago… so that means, they would be gone right now. But where? What was this ‘home’ Namjoon wrote about? Who was the great leader? 

“Why are you taking samples of the planet?” you asked yourself, setting down the notebook. “More importantly, why is your room so trippy? I wonder when they’ll get back…”

Ironically, as soon as you thought this, a loud clanging noise could be heard. The room began to shake and rattle. You sat down on the bed for protection, and waited for what would happen next. Soon, the shaking stopped, and a noise like a tea kettle sounded. 

Suddenly, the closet door opened. A huge cloud a smoke flew out of it, revealing three shadows. You assumed it was your friends. 

“Well that was a nice little trip.” A woman said stepping forward. She had blue hair, little blue specks across her face, and wore a dress of chrome silver. 

“I think we discovered a lot throughout these last few weeks about life science on Earth.” A voice that sounded like Namjoon’s said. It came from a man with pink colored skin, and orange curly hair. 

“Just think of how far we’ve come!” An energetic boyish voice came from the last member. He had two little yellow antennae sprouting from his purple hair, which brushed over his large green eyes. “I mean, we came as secret agents who were trying to figure Earth out, and now we know everything from how an ant’s legs work to how the moon affects the tides!” You noticed how the inside of the closet was chrome, and had blue plastic accents. It looked like something out of a sci-fi movie.

The three laughed, then walked towards the bookshelf you were standing by. Their smiles dropped once they saw you, looking shocked and nervous. They widened their eyes.

“Y/N?”

Author’s Note: I don’t care it they’re aliens or weird, living with these three would be like a dream! Hope you enjoyed this. I’ll be resolving this in the next part :-) 

-Marie 💗

[Masterlist]

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Severus Snape: The Only Good Slytherin?

Hello guys, so I mentioned that my friend wanted an essay for why I hated Snape. This is my opinion and is mainly factual and canon but I could be a little bit wrong. If you like him, good for you but I don’t. So if you like him and don’t want to here hate for him, don’t read below the cut. 

Thank you.

- Lottie. 

Although Severus Snape is shown as a fallen hero, dying at the hands of the Dark Lord he had once been a loyal servant of, for his valiant defiance and taking a lead role of the right side, this is a great mistake. Yes, he did defy Voldemort and join the Order. Yes, he did die for joining this side. But all of his actions can be shown to only better himself alone and no one else- most importantly his reason for joining the Order in the first place.

Granted there may be several other reasons as to why he decided to change sides during the war, but the only clear and valid suggestion would be because of his one true love- Lily Evans. Just prior to him moving sides in the war Lily was brutally killed due to the fact that her son was one of two possible chosen ones that could overthrow Voldemort. Due to her demise Snape moved to the Order to pretty much get revenge on Voldemort for killing his love. However, having been a spy within the order previously he knew that all death eaters would be imprisoned in Azkaban, so logically joining the Order was a better option that getting the dementors kiss.

To continue from the previous, point the one clear reason why Snape isn’t a good guy is he was a death eater. Granted he changed his ways however that doesn’t really mean much. He willingly joined Voldemort and complied to everything he told him to do, there was no coercion involved. It isn’t surprising that he had become a death eater, as from a very young age he had an interest in the dark arts. Unlike most of the others who later turned to Voldemort, he introduced himself to the dark arts, having a fascination in it and happily joining his fellow Slytherins later who all later became death eaters also.

Although he personally had no involvement in the attack of Mary Macdonald he was friends with Mulciber and would have likely been one of the many Slytherin students whom considered her being attacked with the dark arts as a joke.

There is no doubt that he was smart. He was very intelligent. He has been stated to have known more elements of the dark arts as a first year than most seventh years, as well as having creating many spells himself- even if they weren’t all so great. Although he was an intelligent person when it came to books, his personal skills and ideals weren’t so adept. Even though he himself is a half-blood he shows extreme prejudices against muggleborn students and half-bloods throughout his childhood along with as a professor. The only true close relationship he had was with Lily Evans which isn’t surprising that he then became infatuated with her. He has many issues with attachments due to a shitty home life and didn’t grow up in the best environment but that isn’t a justification for his behaviour as pretty much everyone in the Harry Potter universe had problems.

Lily stood by him against her fellow Gryffindors dislike towards him, always being a loyal friend even when he did stuff that she knew was incorrect as she had hope for him. The only thing that stopped this was the fact that he referred to her as a mudblood, one of the harshest words and racial slurs within the wizarding world. Rightfully so she stopped being his friend and began to hate him. This is after he has made it very clearly that he despises muggleborns but tries to differentiate her from everyone who shares the same blood status, as he loved her but wanted everyone else to die. Once Lily turned her back on him, he couldn’t take no for an answer and treated her terribly as though she wasn’t right to stop talking to someone who was referring to her with a racial slur.

Not only was there issues with Lily during his school time, but also with the marauders- Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black and James Potter (especially the latter two). There is no justification for the way they treated him, they were bullying him, but he also gave them just as much as he received up until the Whomping Willow Incident. He badly treated the four of them even though the majority of the retaliation came from Potter and Black whom were also the two he was more likely to target with his hatred.

Sirius irrational actions with the Whomping Willow Incident was a completely terrible thing and Snape’s dislike for Sirius was completely justified by this but Peter and Remus had no actions in this plan along with James having saved Snape from it. After having his life saved by James he was still bitter towards him and never became civil, even if the only reason James did help him was to not have Remus’ conscience have death on it. However, this incident only occurred as Snape was trying to find out Remus’ secret and did everything in his power to out Remus as a werewolf even though Remus didn’t get involved too much and was relatively civil with Snape throughout school. It is never explained clearly as to why he set his sights on Remus to ruin his life but this continues into adult life.

Once both Remus and Snape are professors at Hogwarts, Remus is willing to be civil towards him as they are now professional adults, however Snape doesn’t have the same mindset. He does everything he can to make jokes towards him and talk badly to his students whilst Remus does nothing to retaliate. As this doesn’t do anything, he takes this one step further. Whilst Remus is unable to teach whilst he is recovering from the full moon, he forces the students to abandon the syllabus to write an essay on identifying werewolves and how to kill them, in the hopes that someone will notice Remus- Hermione does but luckily, she is a decent human being. This therefore means that when Remus returns he has to read a class of essays about how to kill people like him, including one written by the child who is the last link to everyone he loves. Supposedly this is also not enough so finally outs him as a werewolf to the world, causing outrage that a werewolf was teaching children even though Remus wasn’t doing anything to hurt students (unlike someone) and as he was forced to lose his job, he then lost all stability and was likely homeless once more. As well as these effects on Remus it also means that all werewolf within Britain can now no longer get jobs which then becomes a law within the wizarding world.

Not only does he have a personal vendetta against Remus Lupin, whom did have a slight rift with him in school, he also had a similar one against Neville Longbottom, an innocent and impressionable child. Through the prophecy, Neville had an equal chance of being the chosen one, but due to the fact that he wasn’t (and having his parents tortured into insanity and having been kind of abused as a child wasn’t enough of a punishment) Snape decided to treat him by far lower than other students. He treated him so terribly that he became Neville’s boggart as the thing that scares Neville the most, even though Neville has memories of his parents being tortured with the cruciatus curse into insanity, which proves how terrifying Snape must have been to him. This isn’t the only severe example of how terribly he treated Neville, but as Snape considered him a lower standard of student (and didn’t consider actually helping him to try and make him better) he threatened to feed Neville’s toad Trevor a potion Neville made, as if it wasn’t done correctly the toad would be killed.

Neville isn’t the only student that Snape treated badly. He harassed Hermione on multiple occasions for actually taking an active role within the class, along with insulting her teeth to an extent that she began to cry. Although these are two students with multiple occurrences of Snape treating them wrong (not including Harry), he abused his role as a professor as a whole. He showed bias to Slytherin students, whereas teachers such as McGonagall wouldn’t hesitate to dock marks from students within her own house. Meanwhile Snape has been seen to grant marks to Slytherin students for behaviours that he has also docked marks to other houses- such as answering correctly in class without raising their hands. He abuses his role as head of house but also harasses students and bullies them even though his job is to inspire and help them grow. Along with this he abuses his role as headmaster, turning a blind eye to how the Carrows treat students (including literal torture). Granted whilst he is headmaster he is attempting to be a double agent, but as a double agent he should have made sure the students were okay as the main aim of the Order was stopping collateral damage especially that of innocent children.

Most of the aforementioned elements of how he treated students applies to Harry but one of the most serious actions he uses against Harry that he doesn’t with other students is the use of a ministry controlled potion against him. Harry as a student is supposed to be under Snape’s care however he uses veritaserum on Harry without his consent or actually being allowed to by the ministry. This potion allowed Snape to manipulate Harry into telling him the truth even though Harry had given him no reason to doubt him other than Snape’s pre-existing prejudice against him.

His students aren’t the only people he shows little to no care for. His childhood peers and colleagues as a professor get an equal indignation. An example of his little care of colleagues comes in the form of Charity Burbage. Charity was the muggle studies professor whom Lord Voldemort murdered at a death eater meeting. It can be assumed that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy may have known her through he possibly teaching their son, and are seen as physically shocked by the vile and brutal murder that is before them. Meanwhile Snape, whom can be assumed to have been friends or at least civil acquaintances with Charity is clearly not taken back by this action. This isn’t through the fear of Voldemort’s reaction as everyone else clearly show how they feel, whereas Snape doesn’t bat an eye at seeing his colleague being killed in front of him.

Although Snape had never been on good terms with James Potter, it is bloody hard to get to the point of despising someone so much that you’d willingly step over their corpse to go find to corpse of their wife. When arriving at the Potter residence in Godric’s Hollow, Snape immediately ignores that James has been killed, stepping over his lifeless corpse and going straight to Lily. Lily is also dead lying on the floor by the crib of her distraught son who is sobbing for his parents. Snape ignores the crying child and holds the corpse of Lily, giving a clear example as to how he values his happiness of Lily’s. If he did truly love Lily, he would have mourned for her but most importantly he would have comforted her child.

This is also shown prior to this point when he asks Voldemort to save Lily which may be on its own a nice deed, however the fact that he doesn’t care for the safety of James or Harry it makes his motives questionable. If his love for Lily was pure he would be happy for her to be happy and would realise that he wouldn’t be saving Lily if her husband and son were killed. Instead he was infatuated with the idea with her and didn’t care about what she wanted, only the fact that he wanted her.

All in all, Snape wasn’t the only good Slytherin. If you want a good Slytherin please refer to Andromeda Tonks, Regulus Black, Narcissa Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass and Horace Slughorn- I do apologise if I have forgotten anyone else as I am sure there are other lovely Slytherin’s.

[sometimestheyresongs]

Left behind

Cassian Andor x reader. But super sad. Really.

I don’t write very often and I’m trying to get back into it, so any and all feedback is very much appreciated.

 There were many memories that kept you going, but most of them were dark. Ruined cities, burning houses, blood everywhere...In a galaxy of chaos, didn’t everyone have more dark memories than joyful ones? But you tried to focus on the good, not the lost good like your mother or your home, but the good memories that gave you something to live for. Most of the time, you dreamed of solemn dark eyes in a boyish face. 

You’d asked yourself many times over the years if you were still in love with him, and you didn’t know. You wondered if you’d ever see him again. You didn’t know. All you knew was he had a burning drive to keep fighting that you could never keep up with.

When your base was blown up, you were out on a mission. You came back to the flaming ruins and knew it was over. The only survivor you found died in your arms. It wasn’t someone you knew well, but she recognized you.

“Take...” she’d struggled to say. “Take...gun. Good shot...Run.” Those were her last words. By the time you had salvaged what supplies you could from the parts of your base that weren’t still in flames, Stormtroopers were already closing in. You darted into the vast network of mountain caves behind the base and waited. During those hours in terrified silence, you waited for troopers to come drag you away. You waited for other survivors to come find you. You waited. Other soldiers coming back from missions approached and left immediately--from the mouth of the cave you watched them turn around, not everyone was stupid enough to stick around like you did. 

That was a rule of the rebellion that nobody liked but everyone agreed was necessary. You see ruins, you leave. Where there are flames, where there is blood, imperial troops are never far behind. Of course, the man who had taught you that had also nearly lost a leg trying to save his commander in battle once. But that was beside the point. 

When you heard the Imperial ships leave about four hours later, you ventured out. The fires had gone out. All that was left of your base was smoking rubble. You took your supply pack and ran back to your ship, which was thankfully intact. As you checked her over for damage, you tried to think of every place you had ever heard your commander mention as a meeting point. You weren’t a career soldier--you’d fallen into the Rebellion when the Empire had taken every other option from you. You didn’t have the connections or the security clearance to know how to find more rebels. 

It was a long couple of weeks before you were able to find another rebel base. You spent a lot of time on outer planets, hanging around the kinds of seedy taverns Imperial soldiers might avoid, hoping to overhear something helpful. When you finally did hear something, it was not what you expected.

“You know what Captain Andor said...”

You whipped around. It wasn’t subtle, but you couldn’t help it. It was two middle-aged men with their faces mostly covered, sitting at the table behind you. You startled them with your sudden movement, and they reached instinctively towards the blasters you knew were under their coats.

“Calm down, I’m sorry I startled you. Did you say Andor?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m trying to find someone.” You weren’t intending to look for Cassian, but if that overlapped with finding a rebel base, who was to stop you? “We lost touch on Jedha.” That wasn’t official Rebellion code, but it was fairly commonplace to identify Rebel sympathizers by dropping Jedha into a conversation. Both men took a deep breath. They looked at each other, then back at you.

“Isn’t Jedha a bit rainy?” one of them asked. That was the second part of the code, to say something wildly out of place.

“Only when the Emperor wills it.” You held your breath for a moment. They both relaxed.

“So you’re looking for Cassian Andor?”

“I’m looking for a place to go, actually, but I heard you mention Cassian--Captain Andor, I guess, and it sounds like you can point me in the right direction.”

The exchange ended with the two rebel pilots buying you a drink and giving you coded coordinates to their base. You thanked them and went on your way, as quickly as possible. They’d been kind enough not to ask too many questions, not that they could in a crowded bar. You weren’t above name-dropping but you didn’t want to talk about how you knew Cassian.

As you got back in your plane and put in the coordinates, you let your mind drift back. All the way back to the fourteen-year-old boy who’d saved you, when troopers stormed a market on your home planet. They’d taken your father away, you’d been separated from your mother in the chaos of the invasion, and you were twelve years old, trying to find a vendor who would feed you in exchange for a few hours’ work...

An old woman had offered you a hot meal and a bed to sleep in if you would mind her vegetable stand--she was too old to stand out in the sun, she said. Stormtroopers charged in, with their frightening faceless white helmets and their identical voices. In minutes, the market was a mess. Flames, screaming, people running, trampling others...

You stood frozen in terror, even as the vegetable cart in front of you went up in flames. You remembered the crowd of screaming people that had filled the streets just a few months ago, how your mother’s hand was ripped from yours and as the crowd swept you away, you heard her screaming your name, getting fainter and fainter...You’d seen people trampled to death that day as well, and now as the same scene unfolded before you, you were rooted to the spot. Out of nowhere, a boy not much older than you grabbed your hand and pulled you into an alley.

“You have to run when hell breaks loose,” he told you. “Don’t you have a mother to get home to?” Your silence told him everything. “Me neither,” he said softly. “Well, you don’t have to stay alive for someone else. Stay alive because you deserve it. Okay? Talk to me, you okay?”

You stayed with this boy for a few months. His name was Cassian, and he had more or less been adopted by a group of Alliance sympathizers. They took you in as well. You and Cassian learned to be spies together, although he was quite a bit farther along than you. And he was distractingly gorgeous. Your little twelve-year-old heart didn’t know what to do with those puppy eyes or that boyish smirk. That setup only lasted about four months. Imperial informants had got wind of the little rebel hothouse, and the sympathizers who lived there split. Three took Cassian, four took you, and you all escaped.

Over the next decade, you and Cassian kept finding each other. He stayed with the Alliance, already an expert intelligence agent by the age of 19. You drifted. Those four soldiers who had first taken you in were always happy to help you, but you weren’t sure you wanted to be a soldier. You spent some time on bases, some time hiding on different planets, you even spent a year working on a transport ship. It seemed safest—in a galaxy of chaos, your best defense was to keep moving. Even if Imperial troops passed through, they were more interested in who had been on your ship than they were in you. But still, one day your dashing soldier with his smirk and his ever-changing face came through.  You followed him back, got sucked into the life of a spy again. In your life, this beautiful boy was the only constant. You hadn’t kept a friend for more than a year since you lost your family, but Cas always found his way back to you. He always seemed happy to see you. He always kept you safe.

After a while, you both began to feel that the universe wanted you to stick together. Cassian asked you to be his backup on spy missions, and you’d have followed him anywhere. When business allowed it, he started taking you out for drinks. One night, on a mission in Coruscant, he took you out dancing. The bar was disgusting and probably full of mercenaries, but for a few hours you were just two young people out having fun, not intelligence agents. You were just you and Cassian with his hands firmly on your waist. Those moments became more and more frequent. Cassian would find you for a quick peck on the cheek before he shipped out somewhere. Over the years, you saw the light in his eyes change from hope to burning anger, but he softened when he saw you. Forbidden visits to each others’ quarters at night, stolen kisses, you couldn’t believe you meant as much to Cas as he did to you but the evidence was all there in front of you.

But of course it didn’t last. You never wanted to be a soldier, you still didn’t want to commit. Cassian was increasingly only a soldier. Your fatal error was the day you asked him to run away with you. You’d both had a close scrape with death, and for you it was the last straw. You begged him to leave it all behind, snapped that he didn’t love you as much as he loved being a soldier. He said you were selfish, too small-minded to see that there was no other life until this war was over. “The Empire will always be there,” he said. “You and I can’t have normal lives, we’ll always be running.” He shipped out the next day, and you were long gone before he came back. You told yourself that you loved a boy with too much fire in his eyes, he needed someone who could match it and that would never be you. You told yourself all the way out to an Outer Rim planet where you planned to hide until the war was over.

You’d only been able to keep that up for about a month. Cassian’s words had haunted you, of course this fight was about more than you getting your life back. You had joined up with another rebel faction, this time committed to the cause. You would never stop hoping to see your boy again but he wasn’t the reason you fought anymore. Then of course, now you found yourself homeless again, and hopefully on your way to him. Back to your Cassian, after two years. 

The base on Yavin IV was half empty when you arrived. You showed as much ID as you had, and explained to three very distracted guards where you came from and why they could trust you. They recognized some of the names you mentioned, and were happy for a new recruit.

“What’s your trade?” one guard asked. “Head downstairs, tell them what you can do, they’ll find something.”

You were registered as a mechanic, but they noted that you had intelligence experience. Something was going on, you could tell, everyone was tense. You were unpacking your things in your new assigned bunk when a call went out for everyone to gather. You followed the throngs of people in the halls, hoping for a glimpse of a familiar face. The two soldiers from the tavern were there, the ones who had directed you here. They had said Captain Andor, you remembered. Cas was doing well for himself.

“Many of you already know why we’re here,” the base leader said. The tone was somber, a mission had gone badly. “The Empire has been building a weapon called the Death Star, a weapon that can destroy entire planets in a matter of minutes. Today we have seen it in action. We can also assume that it is the same weapon responsible for the destruction of Jedha City. It was designed by an Imperial scientist named Galen Erso. Erso was held for years against his will, and he built a flaw into the Death Star. He sent a message to his daughter that if we could find the plans on Scarif, we would be able to destroy this weapon before it can destroy us. Scarif, of course, is one of the most heavily protected Imperial planets in the galaxy. We deemed it a suicide mission.” The woman in the white dress paused to take a deep breath. “Jyn Erso, before the council, insisted that if we did not act now to destroy the Death Star, the Empire would wipe out rebellion in a matter of days. We turned her down. A number of soldiers understood that this was our last chance to continue to exist. They left this morning in a stolen ship. When asked for a call sign, they called themselves Rogue One. We will never know exactly what happened on Scarif today, but we do know this. The plans were captured. We were able to send backup to help them get those plans off the planet. Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan was entrusted with bringing the plans back. Her ship was boarded. We do know that an escape pod left the flagship. We will have to wait to see if the princess was able to salvage the Death Star plans. Right now, I would like to take a moment to honor the Rogue One crew. In defying direct orders, they have saved the entire Alliance…and sacrificed every one of their lives. When we deemed it a suicide mission, we misunderstood them. They did not go to Scarif for adventure. They went to Scarif that the rest of us may fight another day. They gave their lives on Scarif so that hope may live on in this galaxy. I would like to take a moment to honor them.”

Pictures and names began to flash up on the screen, and the woman in the white dress read them aloud. She began with the pilots who had rushed to answer the call for backup. Two dozen, perhaps, had all been lost that day. A small number of pilots had managed to escape and were en route back to the base. Then she began with the crew of Rogue One. It was about twenty soldiers, you noted. A small number for such a large mission, but incredible solidarity for so many to have defied orders. She ended with people whose role warranted special recognition.

“Bodhi Rook, an Imperial defector sent by Galen Erso to deliver his message. Rook was a pilot who suffered greatly to try to do right. We were honored to have him with us for such a short time. Chirrut Imwe and Baze Malbus, as far as we know two civilians from Jedha who joined Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor in their search for Galen Erso.”

You felt your stomach twist. You must have misheard. “And of course, the two we could consider the leaders of this mission. Captain Cassian Andor, one of our best intelligence agents with a long history of service to the Alliance. Captain Andor was fearless and loyal. He was one of few agents whom we allowed to act in the field without explicit orders. Captain Andor could analyze a situation and react on his own far more effectively than he could report back to us and wait for orders. I expected to see him beside me on the council one day. And Jyn Erso, daughter of Galen Erso, gave her life to make sure that her father’s sacrifice was not in vain. She stood here before the council and argued to save us, even as we questioned her loyalty due to her father’s ties. A moment of silence for the Rogue One crew and the fallen pilots in the Scarif mission.”

Everything she said was a blur from the moment you saw Cassian’s face appear on the hologram. His face was blue and blurry, it was not how you expected to see him for the last time. The Erso woman was striking,  even from the fuzzy hologram image you could see that her eyes burned with defiance. You wondered for a moment if Cassian found someone with a fire in her eyes that matched his own, as all the while you felt that the room around you was growing colder. You chastised yourself for reeling with shock—everyone in this room was mourning, they had just found out that their best friends and partners and bunkmates had died. The loss to the Alliance was unimaginable. You stood rooted to the spot, trying to think of a heroic group but only able to think of one. That picture was no good. You ignored the fuzzy blinking image of a hardened, unsmiling man. You closed your eyes tight and you could see clear as day Cassian as you would remember him. Not the growing soldier you’d seen so many times over the years, not even the scruffy-faced nineteen year old who had been so happy to find you again, not even the young man who had spent so many nights sneaking you into his quarters. All you could see, all you would see every time you closed your eyes for the rest of your life, was a smooth-faced fourteen-year-old boy in a dusty alley. His hair was unkempt, mischief danced in his eyes, and he held out his hand to you with a slight smirk as though he knew you would be hopelessly in love with him the rest of your life.