#analogy that came after a conversation with my brother
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alasy · 1 year ago
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it’s like I’m an apple tree and you want mangos. i’m giving you apples. apples are fruit as much as mangos are, but you want mangos. which is completely fine! i, personally, cannot give you mangos, because i’m an apple tree, not a mango tree. i think mangos are also nice and you have all the right to want them, and obviously i, as an apple tree, understand and accept my inability to produce mangos. could it happen? maybe, but that wouldn’t be natural, would it? how much would it cost for an apple tree to start producing mangos? also, apples are also fruit, so it’s okay to produce apples and not mangos. what is not okay is to look at an apple tree, know that it is an apple tree, get the apples it’s giving telling you it’s an apple and not a mango, acknowledge that it is, in fact, an apple and that it’s also a fruit, but then keep telling the apple tree you want mangos, and that the apple tree is fine producing apples, but still why is it not producing mangos? the apple tree says it’s fine for you to look for a mango tree! all fruits are equally valid! the tree is trying its best!!!
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midnightostara · 5 months ago
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SPOILERS FOR GOW: Ragnarök!
I've seen fans of GOW doing analogies about the characters and other stuff in GOW. I wanted to do the same of my analysis.
Also this is kinda my first time doing an analysis.
It popped into my mind. And I know it is a late one but I had to gather my thoughts.
Gamers for their thumbnail: "Sif asks Thor to kill Atreus!!!", "Sif tells Thor to kill Kratos & Atreus", and people saying, "Sif told him to kill Atreus."
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This is on my mind that I want to talk about. I've been seeing those that play GOW: Ragnarok constantly using this wording when it came to Niflheim after Atreus completed the mask with Thor.
Odin comes gleefully in, since now he has the mask complete to know the secret of the rift and more knowledge. Probably take Atreus to where the Rift is and use him as a guinea pig.
Sif arrives soon after, with Hrist & Mist to arrest Atreus, once gathering evidence with Forseti that Kratos killed Heimdall. Calling Odin out for his supposed promise of no more Aesir blood being spilled.
And after listening to Sif speak to Thor, not once had I heard the word "kill" come from her mouth. Or provoking him to kill Atreus.
Lots of people are misinterpreting her words here.
When she also tells Thor "he's not going to protect us" that applies to Odin. Odin didn't care about protecting anyone, he only cared about his thirst for knowledge & the mask.
If you eavesdrop on her and Thor's conversation. You can hear her tell Thor:
"If that was true, you would stand up to your father for once in your life."
She wanted Thor to question his loyalty to Odin by standing up to him. Wanted him to see that Odin was to blame for everything that happened. That it was no fault of Kratos & Atreus that they killed their sons. That he, Odin, caused their boys' deaths and his brothers deaths by tossing them to his problems.
The only person who is at fault for Magni and Modi's death is Odin.
But Thor really didn't listen to what Sif was really saying. Instead of listening to Sif, he turned around to blame Atreus and Kratos for everything that happened to his family especially hearing that Kratos killed his last living brother, instead of the one that caused the problems in the first place, which is Odin. It was much easier for Thor to attack Atreus than Odin.
It was difficult for Thor to stand up to Odin because of the constant abuse towards him, and he didn't know how to stand up to him until Ragnarök, he finally stood up against Odin.
I'm thinking more people are to say 'Sif told Thor to kill Atreus' is because how Sif treated Atreus when he first arrived to Asgard.
Which I don't blame her for being hostile and cold towards him.
She clearly remembers that Atreus killed Modi. You can tell by her body language when she first laid eyes on him especially her voice. She was barely containing her rage.
Imagine your son's killer comes waltzing in Asgard for 2 days, seeing the all-father treat your son's murderer as if he was someone important to him, being his errand boy, and then sleeping in your son's old room.
That cuts deep. Along with walking around comfortably in their home.
It's justified on why she's actively hostile and cold towards Atreus. Even harboring a hatred for him.
Her hatred for Atreus does dissipates, steadily.
She doesn't want Thrud to be a valkyrie, not because she's directly against it, she knows Thrud would be an amazing Valkyrie. But she doesn't want Thrud to be a valkyrie while Odin is still around since she knows she would end up on the same path like Magni and Modi.
A pawn just for the All-Father to toss at his problems.
True, she really wasn’t mother of the year to Magni & Modi but she has learned from her own mistakes, encourages Thor to stop drinking after she does, and does right for Thrud.
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frodothefair · 7 months ago
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New OC for Expats, let's go!
Ok, this wasn't even that hard! I was in the shower, and came up with a character sketch for my movie-star OC for Expats. What do you think? (Any similarities to real people, living or dead, are purely incidental).
Meet Elliot James. He is a Hollywood actor who got his start as a child star, but came to prominence when he appeared in a fantasy epic loosely based on events in early Medieval Britain, where he played a sweet, heroic squire who saved the day, but ended up giving his life in the process. Afterwards, he became a household name and in demand for everyone's epic or period piece anywhere, and while this was certainly very nice, it was somewhat disappointing to be typecast, so he tried to seek out other roles -- in indie films, horror movies, and genre cinema.
In rapid succession in his early 20's, he played a sick WWI veteran in a period piece with a plot like Flowers of Mordor, a prince in the medieval French history franchise Les Rois Maudits, a young Louis XIV, King Francis in a movie about Mary Queen of Scots (ok, yes, a lot of Frenchness here), and Nikolai Rostov in War and Peace. He also played Pip in Great Expectations, and Link in a cinema franchise of Legend of Zelda, and was one of the brothers in a multi-season Regency-era show similar to Bridgerton. He came to see his period piece and fantasy work as a "Jury duty" of sorts, but did it to please the fans and because he had some difficulty saying no. In the end, however, he put his foot down, and instead of taking the role of Jim Hawkins in Treasure Island, which he was all but being bribed to do, he insisted on auditioning for Blind Pew and Israel Hands.
Why does he get typecast playing young literary and historic characters, you may ask? Well, this is because after age 20, he looks like he essentially stopped aging. He is also short and slightly built, and looks like he stepped off a renaissance painting. He has striking hazel eyes that look like liquid gold, and naturally curly dark blonde hair.
In terms of personal history, he hails from South Dakota, from a long line of ranchers and early settlers to the area of Swedish and German extraction. (Hello, inspiration from Mr. Nisilë's white heritage). His mother raised him and his sister alone, and he has a very loving, down-to-earth and supportive family of origin. However, work as a child actor gave him a lifelong hair-pulling habit, to the point of trichotillomania at times, and he is completely unable to grow a beard of his own as a result.
In his personal life, he gets together with a fan named Marina who is an immigrant from Ukraine and has both Ukranian and Russian heritage. They connect over his upcoming work on War and Peace, and impending trip to Eastern Europe to film it. (This is obviously well before the present day). During his (very ample) free time, Elliot enjoys collecting and listening to vinyl records, attending live concerts, traveling as incognito as he realistically can with his distinctive looks, and watching off-off-Broadway plays (or whatever the LA analog is for this). Ironically, he has never been in a play himself, except for a school play at a very young age.
With his girlfriend and later wife, he is a total sweetheart, and his mental illness helps him understand hers. He is also a complete and utter goofball, slightly disorganized in his household and self care, and unassuming and slightly awkward whenever the cameras are off. The weirder the topic of conversation with him, the better.
His partner, Marina, works as a medical malpractice lawyer who defends doctors, and has a crazy, domineering mother who both loves and dislikes Elliot, and belittles his work behind his back, comparing him to old Soviet actors who she thinks are the true greats. However, she has no qualms about accepting gifts and financial assistance from him. (Guess who this is based on, haha).
Elliot never went to college himself, but he paid for the college education of his sister and Marina's law education. The only thing he asked for in return was that Marina and his sister share the particularly interesting things they learned whenever they could.
What do you think?
@konartiste @emmanuellececchi
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saltyxtides · 1 month ago
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MONTGOMERY WARDEYN.
Sibling what?  Code of conduct?
She sneered her nose at the wording. Bayden suddenly sounded like he was raised in Catholic school or maybe he’d been watching too much Brit tv. What the fuck? 
She let that weirdness go when he asked to call him more. 
“Okay? I know damn well you have a phone. I thought you didn’t like we couldn’t be completely honest there in case people were listening. But, okay. Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing. You’re trying to check up on my dates again. You worry too much. I can take care of myself, but if it makes you feel better, I will.” 
Celeste hit on one unknowingly with that one and scored big for Bayden. He might not know it yet, but if Monty followed through, he would be thankful later. Shocked and thankful. 
When Bayden pointed to the cams she shook her head. “Stop foiling my dreams, Bay.” She crossed her arms and pouted when she realized she was wrong. 
Then there came something to bring her back up. 
“A surprise? For me? What are you talking about now?” 
She looked around at the chinzy tackiness of it all. 
“You are right about that. I do deserve better.” 
Once they were talking about Janet and he was trying to steer her away from it Monty continued to be wow-ed and weirded out by the manner in which Bayden spoke. It was just so flowery. It seemed off, but funny. 
“Why do you sound like a mashup of Star Wars, My Little Pony, and Friends with a dash of wannabe Deadpool only you’re not pulling any of them off?” She was laughing softly poking fun at how he spoke which was probably a good thing because it distracted her from the actual conversation’s topic more than what the fake Bayden was trying to do. Celeste’s flowery way of speaking was definitely catching her ear and seemed to over do it when trying to act like a don’t-care-boy, sort of like Amanda Bynes in She’s the Man. She just didn’t quite pull it off and if an audience was watching it would be pretty damn fun. It also wasn’t enough to make Monty jump to any crazy conclusions like it wasn’t her brother in that skin, but it certainly raised a brow. 
“Oswald?” Monty shrieked shrill at Bayden’s analogy of himself in a suit because Monty knew something else Celeste didn’t know. 
“And that’s a bad thing? I mean it is for me, maybe not for you, but  I told you never to bring your obsession with him up again. Your celebrity crush on him got way too descriptive and TMI for even me of all things you wanted to do to that man, brother dear. You are out of hand, Bayden. You did that on purpose just to put all those images back in my head, didn’t you? Sneaky, sneaky. I’ll get you back for that.” 
Sibling stories were spilling. Bayden’s secrets were too. Celebrity crush. Robin Lord Taylor. Now she knows. Rogue wasn’t the only comic book character brought to life on screen Bayden had an affinity for. 
It seemed after that Bayden tried to save face after Monty’s mocking and speak about who he danced with in real life. Screw fake crushes. Something real happened to him? Monty lifted yet another brow. 
“Shhh. Oh my gawd Bayden. We’re a little close to the house to be saying that place’s name out loud. Mom’ll gut you. You know she’s terrified of you loving him more than her. You and your daddy issues. AND don’t say that’s crazy because we both already know she’s crazy. But okaaaaaaaaay. Okay. I believe you. You danced with a girl. Your secrets are safe with me. Always are. You know that.” 
She still sneered her nose up because there was no telling what Bayden got up to in the Hotel Cortez. It was the family’s weak spot when it came to Bayden. It was where they fucked up and let out his leash too far. 
“But you are talking weird. You are just extra today, Bay. Did they change your meds again? You always get weird when they change your meds.” 
Everything got light again with the tale of their childhood. It felt good to Monty to relive it. She parked in the garage and the door would close behind them. Once it down they were safe. 
“Safe. It’s down. You can sit up. We’re home. We can act normal now. No more show for the hospital.” 
She’d get out and head into the house through a side kitchen door. The house was as it always was. 
“Mom. We’re home!” Monty called out and set the keys in dish on the counter. 
The doctor’s voice would come from the bathroom way down a long wing in the hall. 
“Thank you for bringing my boy on this day of love. My children are home at last.” Then a big splash was heard as she laughed kicking her feet around in her bubbles. 
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Monty’s eyes shifted over to Bayden, “Told ya and looky there, still alive. Not drowned yet. Worry wart.”  “Now, what’s the surprise? And our dance before figures out how to get out of the tub or let me guess. You have to go help her first?”  ( @montywonmom )
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Today was shaping up to be more of a Valentine's DAYMARE than a s i b l i n g celebration.
Everything had turned out to be ROCKY at best && the weight of unresolved emotions hung heavily in themselves.
“ I KNOW, I k n o w. It’s just that I care, okay? You’re not just my little sister. You're my ONLY l i t t l e sister Monty. I can’t help but think about all the potential creeps out there. GOOD at l e a s t text once in a while if you can't call me. ”
Not that they believed in Montgomery to keep her word. Relying on her was more often a gamble or a risk more times than not ending in disappointment. There was no doubt Bayden countlessly had reached out only for his efforts to dissolve into the quicksand of her busy lifestyle/ignoring her big brother. Yet the urge to connect — to try was far stronger than the fear of not trying to help Bayden in the very end.
It honestly sucks to like someone, let alone care. They already learned what happens when you do. It never works out in the end.
They NEEDED to s t a y focused. They NEEDED to not s c r e w this up. But doubts lurked in the corners of the back of there mind whispering deceptive thoughts that threatened to unravel there focus. Each passing whisper fed off there anxiety only amplifying the sense of urgency that coursed through their veins.
Knowing the bond he had with his sister was significant to Bayden himself && rather than letting the day's LESS-than-g l a m o r o u s moments push && pull as they urgently were rushing Montgomery. They needed to make sure DR. W a r d e y n was ok.
" I'll stop foiling your DREAMS when you stop being i m p a t i e n t, " a faint smirk on Bayden's features as they continued to walk alongside Montgomery.
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" SEE? You're being Impatient a g a i n! I guess I'll keep foiling your dreams when you least expect me to. " Knowing full well that Bayden himself would have relished in a little game with his sister like this priding on being the dream disruptor to his sister jokingly. Keeping her hopefully intrigued about her valentine surprise at least as they held a certain smugness && ignored her on purpose.
Not that the oddly oversized absurdity of cheesy Valentine decorations clinging to the white walls desperately trying to make something out of nothing. That ' CHINTZY t a c k i n e s s ' couldn’t be helped — neither could it overshadow how they felt about themselves being Bayden in the moment.
Desperately trying to make something out of nothing. Trying so desperately to be someone else — all over again.
Wow. More than anything they were slightly impressed Montgomery knew the words ' Star Wars ' let alone ' My Little Pony '.
" Did I just hear you say My Little Pony? Star Wars? I bet you secretly watch My Little Pony when no ones around, " Half in disbelief && half in shock && half joking for once.
" Maybe not that DRAMATIC, but a bit more — expressive && a tiny bit nervous than usual . . . " A tiny bit nervous was an understatement as they stared at the ceiling of Montgomery's car questioning when they were going to figure out they were a fake.
Only underneath the lightness in the moment was a level of anxiety that couldn't be comprehended in the kind of way that felt like they've done wrong.
" How dare you! I'm simply expressing my 50-s h a d e s-of love for Robin Lord Taylor!!! "
An ache flaring in there chest as they were learning things about Bayden from someone else && not exactly from himself hit very different. Each little detail shared felt like a knife — twisting with the realization that this felt invasive. That's not the way they wanted to know him. Shoving the thoughts from there mind as that's the least of there problems right now but a sharp ache still remained.
If she wants sneaky. They'll show Montgomery sneaky. Whipping Bayden's phone out so secretly && with a bit of heavy concentration to do what they wanted to do while Montgomery drove they sent her a text && an image from the backseat!
[ 📱 — text to Montgomery from Bayden ] Nothing freaky to see here at all. [ X ]
" You do know HOUSES can't hear r i g h t? Please seek professional help if you start hearing houses Monty. The crazy in our Mom doesn't fall to far from the crazy in us. We just make it lOoK gOoD. Minus your expert level on house whispering now! So rude of you keeping that from me. That's why you need to CALL me m o r e. But yea. Don't tell Mom. I'll also keep your HOUSE w h i s p e r i n g from Mom too. "
Joking into it more than trying to take what she said seriously or to heavy, because they know how Bayden felt about Hotel Cortez && at the same time they can't say they feel the same way as them. They've only been there once.
" Leave my meds out of this!!! I'm doing this MY w a y this year, " as if her big brother has had this moment in his mind for a while. Yet she's been questioning them ever since they arrived at Briarcliff. Being reminded of an pitbull that won't let go of it's toy.
Though in all trueness, they couldn't compare to the real Bayden. However, they did plan this in case of this happening. Only thing they wished they could change was there situation with Bayden prior. In the kind of way to prepare themselves to be the Bayden Montgomery expects to be would have helped more then trying to grasp into improv.
" Ha ha Monty VERY f u n n y. " They retorted not so amused. Now that they were actually in a parked car. Getting up slowly from the back seat of her car as soreness throbbed from there stomach.
Only the moment they open the car door to get out there was a familiar rancid smell overwhelming them.
The KIND of s m e l l that they knew wasn't existent but only in there mind. Casually stepping out of the car into the garage there ' IT ' was again.
On the cemented ground of the garage the visage of a dead girl again laid a few ways away from them, as they recall seeing her near the laundry room last time they visited. Her skin swollen about to split any moment. Once a beautiful young girl but now just a tangled decaying rot of a mess.
As that smell that filled the entire garage was like potted meat left in the sun. It doesn't help that the empty glassy appearance of it's eyes followed them like a Decayed-Mona-Lisa, as the veins around it's eyes appeared black making it much harder to pry there own attention away.
They knew she wasn't real, or actually there, but that didn't mean it didn't startle them.
Or was it? They question to themselves that there might be more to Bayden. With so many EYES on h i m, they couldn't investigate the matter on there own without the questions being raised if there was something wrong with him.
After all, if they ' SWAP b o d i e s ' why couldn't Bayden see thing's that other's can't? His family tree comes from a LINE of w i t c h e s/w i z a r d s.
Where the voices more than just voices && the things they see more than just that. Or where they projecting what they desire Bayden to be?
But why it had moved from the Laundry Room to the Garage? Did it move because ' IT ' followed them in the kind of way they spent some time in the garage back in Christmas? Or had it moved to lead them. In the kind of way that the dead girl was trying to show Bayden something.
It won't be solved standing around making Montgomery suspect something was wrong with them. They already had enough to actually worry about right now. Closing the car door gently as if everything was normal. No smell. No dead girl. Just them walking over to pick up something they hid during Christmas that they needed to use.
Following Montgomery into DR.W a r d e y n ' s home through the side kitchen door. It looked exactly the same when they visited.
But it was such a relief to hear DR.W a r d e y n ' s voice, to feel a burden weight lift from her shoulders.
Never had they ever felt so awkward && out of place standing there in an actual family unit. Dysfunctional. But still a family unit. Better then Rowan's && her own situation anyway.
The way there tongue felt thick && full of cotton suddenly. As if anything they wanted to say back in that moment wouldn't come out. Staring down the hallway where DR. W a r d e y n ' s voice came from.
“ ALRIGHT, a l r i g h t ! I won’t jump to help Mom just yet, ” they said, crossing there arms with playful mock sternness. “ But you’re RIGHT, we should probably dance like nobody’s w a t c h i n g before she sets sail on her bubble sea. ”
On that note they began walking past Montgomery with ease && little hesitation as if they've known this house all there life.
" Stay here for a second Monty I want to do something first — " they sounded more serious as they went to the living room && though they felt terribly stupid, in the kind of way that made them feel utterly embarrassed.
They put 5 sparklers In the shape of an ' M ' for Montgomery in a aluminum can they already put holes in to hold them. Finding them around Christmas when they where restless.
Turning off the living room lights leaving it nicely dark enough. Fiddling with Bayden's phone ready as they lowered the volume so it wasn't hella loud after lighting one sparkler after another until they were all lit, sparkling in that ' M ' for her to clearly see.
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" You can come look now, " not so loud but just loud enough for Montgomery to catch.
lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıılıı.lllııılı. Now Playing [My Way] 0:07 ———♡——— 4:36 ◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷
" — Montgomery Wardeyn will you do me the honor of having this dance with me? "
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texasthegreatdestroyer · 3 months ago
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Advice Needed.
Qrow hesitantly pitter patters into the lounge Bistro, looking around the place until he finds a familiar face sitting at a table for two. That face is Auron, sitting by his content lonesome while he reads a book and indulges in a stout cup of earl grey tea. Qrow approaches the table, raising his hand to give a shy wave to Auron, but it ultimately falls flat as he begins to doubt himself, and so he turns around and attempts to leave, but in the process he runs into a waiter, and the serving platter falls over Qrow and the ground. "!- Sorry!" He then attempts to aid in cleaning up the mess, but about as soon as he tries picking up one of the plates off the floor, it ends up slipping out of his hands, falling onto the floor and shattering. The waiter looks back at him with a scowl. "I've got it, thanks." And he goes back to cleaning the mess. Qrow simply backs up, right back the position he had already found himself in. Right in front of Auron's table, who despite the racket seemed to still be completely immersed with his fiction.
Qrow thinks about trying to talk to him again, but he just lets out a quiet sigh, and attempts to walk off once again, this time being more mindful of his surroundings. Auron: "Yes, Qrow?"
Qrow turned back around with shock. He seemed so lost in his activities. Qrow: "How-" Auron: "What? Did you think I didn't notice the racket you just made? Or your hovering?" Qrow: "..." Auron: "Take a seat. I won't bite.
Qrow did as he was told and pulled out the chair right in front of Auron, taking a seat across from him.
Auron: "Is there a particular reason you're hovering over me like a school girl with a crush?"
Qrow: "Yeah-... well no. It's stupid."
Auron: Auron looks up from his book, the eyebrow above his only functioning eye raised. "I was just making an analogy. Please don't tell me you're about to confess your hidden love for me in front of a whole crowd of customers."
Qrow: "Never in your wildest dreams-" He retorts with a smirk.
Auron: "Then what are you after?"
Qrow: "Hey- Maybe I just want to talk to you. We're brothers in arms after all."
Auron: "Of course. You and your lone wolf tendencies. We're definitely brothers in arms alright..."
Qrow: "Ouch. Okay, fair, but that doesn't mean I want something-"
Auron: "Suit yourself then..."
The two now sit in silence for a bit. The silence only breaking when Qrow orders a drink from a nearby waitress. "A scotch on the rocks please." Between the waiting for the day's liquid courage and the deafening silence between the two men that seem to almost completely block out the noise of the social banter around them, Qrow got fidgety and eventually he broke.
Qrow: "Okay! Look, I need help with something-"
Auron: "There it is."
Qrow: "I need advice to be exact."
Auron: "..." Auron seems rather confused by such a request. Not that he never been asked for advice before, but from Qrow of all people? It was unheard of. The man was a walking talking disaster, but no one could ever tell him to be otherwise. "... Okay?"
Qrow: "I don't know. I've been having a lot of thoughts lately. Mostly about life in general-" Auron: "Wait- Are you about to ask me for life advice?" Qrow: "... ... ... I told you it was stupid." Auron: "Qrow. You're five years my senior. Why are you asking me for life advice?" Qrow: "Well if you haven't noticed my life kinda sucks." Auron: "Talk to a therapist." Qrow: "I thought I was talking to one." Qrow smirks evilly at the man across the table from him. Auron returns reply with his own expression, that of a lack of amusement from the older one's antics. He then returns back to his book seeming to drop the conversation entirely. "Look. I only came to you because rather you want to believe it or not, you're the only one out of us who actually has it all together. I'm an alcoholic, Lucy's status as a god awful mother is coming back to bite her in the ass and an incredibly sore reminder of just how fucked her life is, and Phi is having a mid life crisis over a single wrinkle. You're the only one of us who isn't absolutely losing his marbles. It's pretty save to say you have it all figured out"
Auron:
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Auron: "Is that so?"
Qrow: " Yeah. How do you do it?"
Auron: "I don't... Neither do you... No one does."
Qrow: "Huh?" Auron: "No one has it "together". They just pretend they do. They just manage." Qrow: "Okay??? So what are you getting at?" Auron: "Stop trying to figure it out and learn how make do with what you have. You're an alcoholic? Go to AA meeting. Go to rehab. Talk to a therapist. Do something about it. You hate your life and you want to throw yourself of the nearest balcony? Write about it in a journal, or most preferably, talk to a therapist. You're in crippling debt because you're awful with your finances? Go to a financial advisor. Want to get married and have kids?... ... ... not much you can do about that. Good luck having a relationship and family with your line of work."
Qrow: "So your advice is to stop bitching about my problems that I don't know what to do about, and do something about it anyways?" Auron: "Correct." Qrow: "I was hoping you would give a more unique perspective on it, but I guess not." Auron: "You were hoping for an easier solution?"
Qrow: "I didn't say that- don't put words into my mouth ya old geezer."
Auron: "You're older than me- never mind. Next time will cost you."
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kdipshit · 2 years ago
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Co-dependancy ;
April 4
I have the faith that what’s best for me will ultimately manifest. I can be honest and say I’m codependent in relationships, I usually focus so much on the person I’m with and the life we have together rather than myself and my own life with ME lol. I feel bad and uncomfortable and almost like I cheat on myself when I drink, which is driving me to stay sober. I received ‘The big book’ in the mail today free, provided by a lovely AA Group over in the state I attended via zoom, so I’ve been extremely grateful in my moments of reading. My relationship with sobriety is at peaceful and positive as I can possibly make it, sometimes I’m worried if I’m hiding everything with a positive attitude or if I’m truely positive about my experience, I really don’t know what I’m saying or how anything is coming out because I feel so…. Idk, like I’m facing the wrong way. I kept super busy today, because I feel guilt. I did my morning routine with guilt in the back on my head, I’m writing this now with guilt plastered all over it. Am I an enabler? Because I enabled myself to get drunk… how long do I feel guilt for. Guilt stems for the abandoned emotion on the emotion wheel I’m looking at, and if this is a sign to get into my abandonment issues well I guess its time to roll up the sleeves, I feel sad and a little defeated. Must I acknowledge in order to go forward? What needs to be done here?
My fear of abandonment seems to take over my body and pierce into my soul, over the years it has stopped me from getting close to someone all together, and distance myself from those inevitably close to me. I feel ashamed when I over share, in fear of someone I love leaving, I hold and hide things in, because thats what seems to push people away the most. I’m like a child hiding things away from their parent. Idk why that analogy came but fuck it, when my parents would drink, they would get into some nasty fights, and when I was a child I remember my mum kicking my dad out on multiple occasions and me and my brother crying, holding and begging for him to stay. He stayed most times, other times he wasn’t far, and would always come back. My dad never truely left, but he wasn’t always there. When I felt the shift of my parents with me, when I was 13-14, I felt abandoned, and angry. I felt like no one knew me because they didn’t want to, I felt like there was something wrong with me, I felt extremely alone… in a house full of family. I wondered what was wrong with me for so many years, because I couldn’t understand or comprehend it, there was nothing wrong with me. Maybe there was lol, I don’t know, I know that I felt normal until my parents stopped talking to me.
I don’t feel good or confident in my writings right now, but ill keep writing. My parents are judges, like not real ones, like the kind of people who judge others a lot, ridicule them for their mistakes. I was judged so hard I let them win and started judging myself the way they did me… my dad decided to throw in a little ‘the gym is not a fashion show just so you know’ after I expressed wanting to go to the gym with him, and the rest of my family lol. I said ‘I don’t go to the gym like it’s a fashion show why would you say that’ and then he said ‘I just know what girls are like’ ????? I said well don’t you know me? And he told me to shut up and he walked away, lol. My parents always shut down the conversation by telling us to either shut up, for fuck off. I’ve always wanted the conversation, the hard ones, the meaningful ones, the ones where we learn and where we dig, something not so surface lev. Is it just me? Who needs to know wtf is going on in order to understand it? I haven’t had a fucking conversation in decades
If my issue with substance abuse is that once I have 1 taste I need to have another, what I’m saying is I take it too far, every time with every substance, I just gotta get high. I have to feel the feeling, and once I feel It, I just wanna feel it more, thats my issue. And I forgot what I was gonna say about that because I was interrupted while writing lol. I would never ever want my parents to see the potentially mean light I see them under, but its the truth, but I would never want to hurt their feelings, yet they hurt mine so many times. I was a good kid, I was happy I was joyful I was playful I was loud I was TALKATIVE I as a good well mannered fkn kid. And then I was abandoned. I’m a different kinda fucked up mannnnn, I was LEFT, while under the same roof, I was done to them. Because they didn’t couldn’t let down what ever bullshit wall they had up, I was determined to know my parents, but they weren’t all that keen on me. I guess thats how I feel in every relationship I’m in, scared they’re gonna drop me, ill have no one, but ill be forced to be respectful when I was continuously disrespected, negated and left behind. And yanno, I wasn’t exactly friends with my siblings because I never came out of my room…. It was an unsafe place for me to be, outside my room. I was friends with my brother outside of my room bc we used to go to school together, we always went late coz mum & dad were already at work, I used to write our late notes, anyways idk, its just all making me now realise how grateful and happy I am with life at the moment, Im really starting to see a future for myself, which is crazy, I haven’t felt this way in a long time. I’m such a positive attitude bitch!!!!!! Honestly I can turn any thought into a positive one, and I unconsciously prove this to myself everyday, all my thoughts are positive, lol. Thoughts are just thoughts, but when they become overwhelming, at least make expositive, you have the power, its just forgetfulness that betrays us.
Im a cuddly and super a friendly person I like to give and show love when I love someone, it can be a bit intense sometimes lol, I don’t show this kind of love often, only to a very special few. I have a maternal kind of love, I just want to take care of you. Blah blah blah, I don’t think I can feel that kind of love again, I don’t know why, well, idk why I say shit like that because maybe I do know and maybe saying idk is a response you give when you don’t want to dig deeper, its like your personal ‘shut up’ you hear from your parents in your ear hahahahahaha. Idk Mann, I’m pretty blazed, so I feel good, its hot though, its also 8pm so my meds have kicked in and I’m teeeee ruuuurrddd.. BOUND2
I am the space between everything i can see. I am space. I could never really figure out what was wrong with me but I remember everyone being so pissed at me for doing some of my own business type shit, like I was extremely hyper active Sexually I was drunk like every day lol, so was everyone else in my house tho???? So what the fuck is wrong with ME. I’m doing the same shit y’all fkn do y’all mad. Okay that sounded a lot like old K, and I’m trying to be better.
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randomshyperson · 4 years ago
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The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Fourth Year (Part I) - Chapter 04
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Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.
Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.
Chapter Words:  9.832K
Authors note: In this one I start to explore more of the magical bond between reader and wanda, and well, it will be very much about that from this one on. I need to know if you all prefer longer (and more detailed) chapters about the reader's years at hogwarts like this one (which has been divided into three parts) or if you prefer the pace of the first three chapters (with only the relevant events of the whole year). Enjoy your reading.
//-// x //-// //-// x //-//
It's very different having Nebula and Gamora at home. 
You were used to having only Tony and Jarvis, and occasionally your father, but now that you have your friends sleeping in the next two rooms, you always have someone your own age to talk to and laugh about the same things.
It took a while for things to normalize, especially the first week. Thanos was furious about the letter that Gamora sent him, saying that they would live with you now. He showed up in the yard of your house the next day, and you have never seen your father so enraged.
They talked for many minutes, and then Thanos demanded to speak to his daughters. Nebula was trembling as she walked out the door, but your father stayed by their side during the entire conversation.
When they went back inside, Thanos left. Two days later, your father signed the adoption papers.
You were surprised when you discovered that Nebula was as passionate about magical mechanics as Tony, so it didn't take long for it to become commonplace for her to disappear into the basement of the house along with your brother, both of them wrapped up in some strange invention. You and Gamora usually spent most of your time in the backyard, she reading some Arithmanian stuff you didn't understand, while you played quidditch, or the two of you tended the garden. Mantis also came to visit you in the summer, and Groot was the size of a small dog now.
You exchanged many letters with Wanda during the vacations. And when Iron brought another one of them a little after dinner, on the antepenultimate week of vacation while you and Gamora were in your room talking about the coming year, she acquired a mischievous look on her face.
"What do you guys talk about so much?" She teased as you took the letter from Iron's beak. You shrugged, feeling your face heat up, and thought it better to look at the paper in your hands than Gamora's face.
“I don’t know,. Everything i think”. You answer.
Gamora is silent as you read the letter. You smile, because it is as if you hear Wanda's voice in the words you read. 
"Can I ask you something?" Gamora speaks next, you make a noise with the little one in agreement, without taking your eyes off the paper. "Have you ever kissed anyone?
"What?" you ask in surprise, raising your eyes to her. "N-no."
Gamora's arms are crossed and she's sitting on the bed, and she raises her eyebrow in disbelief.
"Is that so?" She asks and you swallow dryly, confirming. Her expression softens. "I'm only saying that because a lot of people start dating in third grade."
You close the letter in your hands, placing it on the shelf beside you. Ignoring how the subject makes your stomach flip with nervousness, you rest your hands on your knee.
"Do you think we'll start dating too?" You ask shyly, and Gamora smiles, shrugging.
"Who knows?" She retorts. "I never thought about that either. But I do know that Pietro kissed Monica on the mouth after our leave vacation inside a cabin on the Hogwarts express."
"Are you for real?" You asked in surprise. "How did you find out about that?"
"Quill wrote to me last night." She says. "I forgot to tell you."
"Wow." You say. 
"Yeah." She agrees. "Peter told me that Pietro turned red as a tomato, but kept smiling. I thought Wanda would tell you that."
You bit your tongue to avoid mentioning that you and Wanda don't talk about such things, and cleared your throat before shrugging.
"Maybe Pietro didn't say anything to her." You say. "I probably won't tell Tony when I have my first kiss."
"You're probably right." Gamora said casually. "But you're going to tell me, right? When you kiss someone, you need to tell me how to do it."
You laughed, walking over to Gamora.
"I promise I will." You say extending your pinky to her. She looks at you confused, "It's a pinky promise, haven't you ever sworn like that?"
"That's muggles' stuff." She comments with a smile, and you laugh.
"Yeah, my dad probably learned it from my mom." You say using your other hand to take Gamora's hand. "Come on, you put your finger like this, and then we swear."
Gamora laughed as she followed your commands, and then you repeated the promise. After you yawned, she bade you goodnight and went to her room.
You fought the urge to reread Wanda's letter, and threw yourself on the bed, not understanding why your brain was replaying Gamora's questions in your mind and you kept thinking of Wanda afterwards.
//-//
The Quidditch World Cup is happening this year, and you can hardly contain yourself with excitement.
You had been to the event a few times when you were younger, but now that you actually played quidditch it was a very different feeling.
Your favorite team was the Guardians of the Galaxy, who had played for England for many years, and were also your father's favorite team. Tony stopped liking them the first year, saying that they were losing too many games, but you knew it was because Steve Rogers was rooting for the Brooklyn Soldiers team and Tony was trying to impress him.
All your friends will be at the event, including many thousands of other witches from all over the world. 
You have to wake up at dawn in order not to miss the time of the portal keys that have been scattered around the country by the Ministry of Magic, to prevent wizards from being seen disappearing into inappropriate places that could expose the magical world.
When you came down to the kitchen, everyone was already having breakfast. Your father kissed your forehead as he walked past you, a mug of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other.
"Finally awake, sleepyhead." Teased Tony when he saw you, you just yawned. 
"Are we leaving already?" You asked sleepily, grabbing some toast.
"Yes, dear." Her father replied looking at his watch. "Get ready soon, or we'll miss the schedule."
You grumble in agreement, hurrying to get back to your room and take a shower. 
When you are ready, and stretching as you walk to the outside of the house, Gamora joins you, a backpack on her back resembling yours.
"I can't wait to see the foreign wizards." She comments excitedly making you smile. Gamora didn't like the sport, and was far more excited to see the witches from the rest of the world than to watch the match.
"I bet there's going to be some Ilvermorny people's stall." You say as you catch up with your father, who was waiting next to Tony and Nebula. Jarvis waves goodbye to you from the doorway, and you begin walking toward the trail beyond the mansion grounds. "They are so show-offy."
Gamora laughs.
"I've never met anyone from the United States." She counters. "But some witches from Japan have been to my house."
You know that the mention of home or Thanos makes Gamora very uncomfortable, so you try to skirt around the subject.
"I guess Nurse Cho was from Mahoutokoro, huh?" You comment, and Gamora shrugs. "Thor had mentioned that during a class, I think."
"I wonder if the other schools are cool like Hogwarts?" She asks, and you smile.
"No place is like Hogwarts."
Gamora laughs, but agrees. You walk in silence for a few more minutes, and it is only when you reach an empty area that you stop.
"Here we are, people." Your father says next, slightly tired from the exercise. He waves for everyone to form a circle as he checks his watch. "Two minutes to go, children. Stand in position please."
There is a small cloth boot in the center of the circle, and you are not the least bit surprised because you know that portal keys are usually the most mundane things you can think of.
You all reach down and touch the boot with your fingertips. You smile at Tony who looks up at you. Two minutes later, you feel a tug, and everything spins around you. Taking a deep breath, you focus on controlling yourself as you are falling into the portal key. And then you land on the ground.
"Here we are." Your father says smiling beside you. You look to the side to see Gamora helping Nebula to stand up properly, as she had remarked that she gets a little queasy with this kind of magic. Tony throws an arm around your shoulders next.
"Ready to see the guardians lose, kid?" He teases causing you to let out a humorless laugh.
"You wish." You grumble pushing Tony lightly, who lets go as he laughs.
And then you start walking again, until you come to a place considerably noisier than where you were before.
The ministry seemed to have bypassed an area with low chains, and you notice the magical aura around the metal, signaling that everything was magically hidden.
There is a wizard in uniform at the entrance, and he collects the tickets before letting you pass into the hut area. 
There are many tents of the most varied characteristics. You laugh in surprise when your gaze catches a conjuration exactly like a vacation castle, but much smaller in size. As you walk through the crowd, your father asks everyone to hold hands so as not to get lost as he guides you to the area where you would be staying.
Your father has rented a tent in a more private area of the place, and there are hardly any witches where you are. You like the silence, but you miss how much more fun the other place seems.
"The Rogers and the Barnes should be here by now I imagine." Your father comments as he waves his wand to open the cabin. You enter the room next, it is like a small winter home inside, very cozy.
"Yes, dad." Tony replies throwing his backpack on one of the couches. "I wrote Steve last night."
Howard grumbles in agreement, walking to the kitchen. You place your backpack on the floor next.
"Daddy, can I go look for Wanda and Pietro?" You ask and your father laughs, denying it.
"You didn't eat anything before you left, honey." He says turning around. "Eat something and then you can go look for them."
You grumble, but agree. While you are making some eggs, Steve's family arrives.
"Howard, you outdo yourself every year, my friend." Joseph Rogers comments as he enters the cabin. Your father smiles cheerfully as he hugs him in greeting, then greets Sarah, Steve's mother, with a kiss on the cheek. He ruffles Steve's hair and pats his arm, repeating the same gesture to Bucky, who follows behind.
" Is your father not here, James?" Howard asks next, and Bucky clears his throat.
"No, sir." He replies. "Since my sisters can't come, he took them to a music event in the muggle world. If you want my opinion, rock concerts are as cool as quidditch."
The comment makes Howard laugh in agreement, but Steve's family doesn't seem to understand very well.
Soon they were all around the room, talking animatedly about the most varied subjects. You exchanged a complicit look with Gamora and Nebula, and you took advantage of your father being involved in a conversation with Joseph to leave the cabin.
"Do you have any idea where Professor Lehnsherr has placed the tents?" Gamora asks you once you are outside and you look around.
"No." You reply. "Wanda just wrote that she and Pietro were going to be here too, but I don't even know if it's Magneto that's bringing them."
"We're just left to look then." Nebula concludes and you nod in agreement, starting to walk.
You walk back to the common tent area, looking around.
Gamora and Nebula are easily distracted by the amount of interesting things to see, and almost lose track of you when some witches from the Salem Institute hand them some exchange pamphlets. 
It is only at the food stall that you finally find who you were looking for.
"My god, is that...?" You hear Gamora exclaim next to you in surprise. You know she was talking about Professor Lehnsherr, who is wearing jeans and a T-shirt and sunglasses and looks very well, and has a completely different posture than he usually has in class, but you are not looking at him anymore. 
Your stomach is restless because you are looking at Wanda, wearing a black skirt with knee socks and boots, and a red jacket. She looks beautiful, and you are blushing.
Gamora waves to them from a distance, and it is Pietro who notices you guys first, waving back cheerfully while nudging Wanda on the shoulder. She blinks in confusion and then smiles when she sees you.
You think your legs have turned to jelly, but you continue walking toward her. 
"It's so good to see you girls" Pietro exclaims happily as he hugs Gamora. 
"Hi, Wanda." You greet with a half-hearted smile, but Wanda's face lights up and she jumps at you, hugging you tight, and making your heart soar. "It's good to see you too." You whisper humorously against her hair, and Wanda releases you with a reddened face, smiling widely.
"I missed you." She says to you shyly making you look away clumsily, but before you can add anything else, Pietro is greeting you as well, and Wanda does the same with your sisters.
"Hello everyone." Said a male voice next, and you stared at Professor Erik awkwardly. He didn't seem bothered by being approached by any of you, however, a hot dog in his hands. 
"Hello, Professor Lehnsherr." You and your sisters said in unison, but the man had an almost friendly expression. 
"Don't worry about being formal while we're here, girls." He says. "We're just sorcerers in here, looking for a little cheap entertainment."
You and Gamora exchange a look, not knowing exactly what to say next. Professor Erik sighs, and then looks at his children.
"You can go spend some time with the Starks, twins." He says making his kids let out excited exclamations. "Be back by the start time of the match, please. I don't want to lose sight of you in a place with so many people of unreliable origin."
You don't quite understand what "unreliable origin" means, but you don't question it, excited to spend some time with the Maximoffs.
After Erik gives them a few galleons to buy whatever snacks they want, you walk back to the cabin.
//-//
You spent the whole afternoon with all your friends in the cabin, playing magical games, practicing simple spells, and trying to guess the outcome of the match. When the first warning alarm sounded, you all let out a chorus of excitement.
You ran to your room, looking for the cheerleader accessories you had obtained, while ignoring the teasing Tony was throwing at you about the opponent team's sure victory.
He and the Rogers were all wearing blue and white scarves, bracelets and hats, which represented the colors of the Brooklyn Soldiers.
Your father was wearing a big red jacket with the symbol of a gold star, the team's mark. You gave him one of the buttons you brought.
Pietro was also rooting for the Soldiers, along with Nebula and Bucky, so you didn't try to lend any of your accessories to them.
Wanda was in the room when you put a blue scarf with gold accents around her neck.
"For you to support the team." You commented excitedly, without any idea that Wanda's flushed face was because the scarf smelled like you.
"Thanks." She said shyly, and you just nodded, holding some bottons on her shirt.
Gamora borrowed one of the hats you brought.
When you walked towards the stadium area, all the other spectators were leaving their tents and tents and going in the same direction, so the crowd was even bigger. You did your best not to get lost.
Once inside the iron structure, you felt someone nudge your shoulder.
"Pietro and I need to find Dad." Wanda said and you waved, but then frowned, nodding back.
"I think he found you first." You comment while watching Erik look at you as he enters the same iron corridor. He looks at your family and friends next for a moment, his expression serious. "See you after the game, right?"
"Of course." Wanda smiles before touching your arm lightly. You still feel the touch many moments later.
//-//
The match is absolutely incredible. It is even better because the guardians win with a remarkable difference when catcher Jean Gray captures the Snitch after the second half, the stadium vibrating in celebration.
It's a complete mess after that. There are fireworks, and a lot of noise. Even though they lost the match, all the Brooklyn Soldiers fans are so impressed with the incredible match that they join the celebrations.
You stumble out of the stadium between laughter, Gamora's arm around your shoulders as she laughs at the dance that your father and Joseph are doing on the way back.
Fans of the Guardians continued to light the celebratory fireworks, and there was a huge fireworks scarlet dragon streaking through the skies above your heads.
Your dad and the Rogers family go back to the cabin while you stay outside with Bucky and your friends, wanting to enjoy the rest of the fireworks display. You also want to see Wanda again.
"The Guardians are very excited, aren't they?" Bucky comments with a laugh, noticing an increase in the volume of the crowd's screams. You laugh and you look at the sky again.
When you blink, there is an explosion noise in the distance, so muffled by the other sounds that it makes you confused. Your friends don't seem to have heard, and you step forward, watching the crowd closely.
You see a lot of people laughing, and dancing, and it takes a minute for you to also notice those who are running.
"Guys." You call in confusion, and Gamora who was closest to you turns around with curiosity. "I think there is something wrong."
Another explosion occurs and this time everyone listens. The crowd in front seems to gradually realize that there is something wrong going on. And then the firework dragon in the sky is fading, considerably dimming the lighting.
Your father came out of the hut the next moment, a concerned look on his face, and the wand in his hands.
You feel a panic rising in the pit of your stomach when people start running and screaming, and you notice spells being cast from a distance. You were thinking it might be some kind of cheering team fight, but the possibility is completely ruled out when you notice the masked men in the crowd.
"Get your things now." Order your father out loud and then you are all moving back to the cabin, picking up all your belongings quickly. You hold the backpack tightly against your shoulders when you go out again, complete chaos around you. Your father, Joseph and Sarah lead you among the people, shouting that you need to get back to the portkey. You gasp in surprise when you feel a twinge behind your eyes, and you are struck by a vision of a forest. This little delay is enough to make you stay behind and lose sight of your family.
But you are not looking for them anyway. Your feet are spinning in the opposite position, and you are pushing people to run. You need to find Wanda.
//-//
You end up at the end of the camp, the tents far behind you. The sound of confusion drowned out by the distance. Feeling a new stab of pain in the head, your knees give way and your body lowers, while you raise your hands to your face, immediately being hit by a vision. This time you see a shadow of a tall figure, perhaps a man, standing in front of you. There is a metallic taste of blood in your mouth, and you want to get away, but there is something holding you back. When you blink, you're back the end of the camp.
You don't understand what's going on, and there is a feeling of hopelessness and helplessness in your chest, but you keep walking, crossing the magical chain and moving into the forest. You fall to the ground on your knees a moment later, intense pain all over your body. Gasping, you look up, only to see a green light form in the sky.
At first you thought it might be fireworks, but it was magic. The symbol of a hydra conjured in the clouds was beginning to move, and your entire body weighed.
You looked down, and your eyes caught a figure in the woods. It was a man, but he was too far away and you couldn't see his face. He had his wand raised to the sky, clearly being responsible for conjuring it up. Your head started to spin in pain, and you rested your hands on the ground to try to normalize your breathing, and then the man looked at you.
You felt your heart race when he started walking towards you, but then there were screams and footsteps, and he ran. A moment later, your father was kneeling beside you.
"Darling! Are you okay?" He asked worriedly raising his hands to your face looking for bruises. You sighed, still in pain. Only when the aurors of the ministry of magic raised their wands to the sky and made the mark disappear,  you feel your body relieve immediately.
"I saw a man." You confessed breathlessly, and your father looked at you with confusion. But the wizards of the ministries seemed quite interested.
"Where, child?" Asked one of the aurors, you gasped slightly, feeling your body tremble a little.
"He went in that direction." You say pointing. "He was the one who conjured."
The woman nodded in understanding, and left after whistling for the rest of the Aurors to follow her. Your father helped you to stand.
"Honey, listen to me carefully." He said in a mixture of concern and seriousness. "Don't tell anyone about this."
“What, daddy? I don't.."
"Honey, please." He interrupts by stroking your cheeks with his thumb. “I will explain everything to you, I promise. But this needs to stay between us. You can't tell anyone what you saw in the sky.”
You swallow dry, but agree. Your dad doesn't let go of your hand all the way back to the portkey, and when you rejoin your friends again, you lie and say you just got lost in the food stall area after he gives a little grip on your fingers.
//-//
Your father doesn't explain anything to you.
When you return home, he receives urgent howlers from the ministry, and then he returns to the ministry of magic.
You are walking around the kitchen, outraged that you were prevented from looking for Wanda on your way out of the stadium and you have no idea if she is okay.
"What if the Maximoffs have a phone?" You grumble to yourself, but then you remember that you don't even have the number. You press your hands to your face, trying to calm yourself down. Wanda was fine. She had to be.
Gamora and Nebula are sitting on the couch, discussing something with each other, looking concerned. Tony locked himself in the room after Howard refused to tell him what was going on.
You don't understand why you have this horrible feeling in your chest, and you can't stop wondering if Wanda is okay, and then you support your hands on the table, trying to normalize your breathing and stop yourself from crying.
"Hey, breathe." You are almost startled by the voice at your side. Gamora touches your back tenderly, and you shake your head, feeling the tears flow. "She's fine, you need to breathe."
"You don't know that." You snap out of breath, and then Gamora puts her hand on your shoulder, asking you to look at her.
“We met Erik on the way out while you got lost. They left before you came back. ” She tells and you blink confused. “Wanda is safe. Breathe."
You gasp, and then your body relaxes as if a weight has been lifted off your back. Gamora looks at you with a mixture of concern and confusion, but you sigh, hugging her in appreciation.
"Thank you." You whisper against her hair. "I should have asked."
When you let go, she still looks at you with concern.
"Yeah, I know." She says assessing her face. "You should have asked how anyone else would do it."
You frown, not understanding what she is saying. But she still looks at you, suspicious.
“It looks like you were barely listening to us when your dad brought you back. And then I find you like that, and one word is enough to get you back to normal. ”
"What do you mean, Gamora?"
"I'm worried about you." She says. "I don't know what it is, but there is something strange about the way Wanda affects you."
You change the weight of your feet, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.
"What are you talking about?"
"She's talking about you not being able to bewitch Wanda." Nebula adds by getting up and walking over to you. You blink confused, ready to say that story was too old, but the girl is not intimidated. "She's talking about the way you behave around her."
"I don `t…"
"It's not just about liking someone." Nebula interrupts and you feel your cheeks heat up. "Gamora thought it was because you are in love, but that seems like something else."
Something in your stomach falls. You gasp in surprise.
"I'm not i-in love!" You exclaim with a racing heart. "I'm not…"
Gamora sighs impatiently, messing with hair. And trying to calm you down, she puts her hands on your shoulders next.
"Listen to me, okay?" She asks. "There's something weird about the way you care about Wanda. We don't know what it is, but you need to admit that you can see that too."
Facing your friend back, it takes a moment while you think of your words, for you to speak again.
"I saw a mark in the sky." You confess, deciding to disobey your father. Gamora blinks in confusion, and you clear your throat before you clear up everything that happened. Her hands fall off your shoulders when she opens her eyes wide for your confessions.
"Are you sure it was a hydra?" Nebula asks seriously and you wave.
"Do you know what that means?" You ask, and the girls exchange a look, but before they say it, you hear another voice.
"It is the Mephisto mark."
You get scared of Tony coming down the stairs, his gaze on you as he walks over to where you are. He folds his arms when he reaches you.
"Which means death walkers are back."
"Tony ..."
"You said you saw a wizard." He interrupts seriously. "Do you have any idea who it is?"
"No." You embarrassingly deny it, feeling your stomach sink with the look Tony is giving you. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You are the one who's been weird." He replies. "I'm just trying to understand what's going on."
"What did you mean by that?"
"What did you see in your head?" He counters with another question and you start to get angry at the way he is behaving, but tell him anyway. Tony sighs impatiently, turning in the opposite direction. He circles the room for a few moments before speaking again. “Daddy is never going to let us get involved in this. Especially now that you are having visions in your head. ”
"I still haven't told him about it." You grumble and Tony looks at you in surprise.
"Then don't say anything."
"What?" You exclaim with a frown in confusion. "What you mean? I need to say. I have to find out what it is. ”
Tony laughed incredulously.
"You still don't get it, do you?" he retorted. "Dad won't tell us anything. He didn't tell us about being an Auror, or about being friends with Professor Lehnsherr. He didn't even bother to try to understand why you can't bewitch Wanda!" Tony squirms angrily, and you shrink your body to the pitch of his voice. But he sighs, running his hands through his hair, and softening his expression. "I'm sorry, I'm not angry with you. It's just... I don't like being lied to."
You looked away, feeling tired. All this talk was making your head hurt, and the previous events had affected you more than you would like to admit.
"I don't know what we can do about this." You say. "I don't understand what's going on, and Dad would be the first person I would ask something, but he's not willing to help us. I feel like I'm at a dead end."
Tony lifts his arm to your shoulder, trying to reassure you.
"Hey, don't be so concerned about it." He says. "I'll find out what I can, and well, we're going back to Hogwarts next week. You and Wanda can try to figure out what this connection is about, while I try to figure out what's going on at the ministry."
You nod in agreement and Tony smiles, hugging you briefly. You hope that despite everything, you will have a quiet year at Hogwarts.
//-//
The Maximoffs are not on board the Hogwarts express.
You are in the same cabin as your friends, squeezed in because not everyone can fit in there, and you take several turns with Peter and Darcy in turn to sit down, while you are spread out in the corridor. 
"No sign of Wanda, huh?" Gamora asked as she saw you looking around the hallway for the tenth time while you were standing outside the cabin, listening to Mantis tell you about her summer from inside.
"No." You reply. "I talked to her Slytherin colleagues, but none of them were very happy to tell me anything. Wanda didn't say anything in her last letter."
"Maybe she will arrive in a flying car, I hear they are popular." She jokes, making you laugh briefly. You can't ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach, and you sigh. Gamora places her hands on your shoulders. "Let's find something to distract you, okay? How about some explosive snap?"
//-//
Laughing at Quill's joke about the last statement in the Daily Prophet, as you walked off the train with the rest of your friends toward the castle.
A chorus of excitement coming from some students ahead of you caught your and your friends' attention, who looked in the direction curiously.
"Is that a ship?" You heard someone ask as they pointed in the direction of the lake.
There was a large old ship, right in the center, coming toward the castle. Everyone looked on excitedly.
"Students, please continue toward the castle!" Drax loudly commanded the crowd, and the students exchanged nervous whispers, all extremely curious to know who was coming to the castle. You swapped a glance with Gamora before following the crowd.
//-//
Already seated at the Hufflepuff table, you startled slightly when Mantis touched your hand.
"Calm down, you're making it snow." She asked gently. You shook your head, realizing the cloud you had accidentally conjured up above you. You had been so nervous the last few minutes, which only got worse when your gaze failed to find Wanda at the Slytherin table, and to no avail was the look of reassurance Gamora threw at you when she said she would ask her colleagues about her over dinner. As soon as you sat down at the Hufflepuff table, you played with your wand between your fingers, and before you knew it, it was snowing.
"Sorry about that." You mumble clumsily, putting your wand back away. Mantis is not angry, her look is one of concern.
"I'm sure everything is fine with Wanda." Mantis says to you, and you sigh, running your hand through your hair.
"I think so too." You say. "I just don't know why I can't stop thinking about it."
"Y/N..."
You lost your attention completely on Mantis as your gaze reached the door of the hall just as you noticed the figures entering. Wanda and Pietro, walking hurriedly to the Slytherin table, being two of the last students to enter the hall before the door closed. You made mention of getting up, but Mantis held you by the shoulders. 
You were about to complain, but she pointed in the direction of the teachers' table, and you rolled your eyes, because the welcoming speech was about to begin. Your gaze remained on Wanda, but she was looking straight ahead. The only good thing was that the feeling of worry in you diminished considerably now that you were seeing her.
"[...] and I am proud to tell you that a very special event will take place at Hogwarts this year: the Triwizard Tournament!"
You are startled slightly when Headmistress Harkness' words reach your ears at the same moment that the main hall explodes in hubbub. You lose sight of Wanda because people are moving excitedly, and Mantis is nudging you to look forward.
It is only now that you notice the large stone globet and the blue flame displayed in front of the bench. You blink in surprise, feeling your face flush because you spent all the minutes of the speech staring at Wanda without realizing it.
Then the principal speaks again.
"Of course, the ministry has determined rules for the safety of the students." She recounts. "No student under the age of seventeen will be allowed to participate in the tournament, in addition to the dueling rules..."
The principal's speech was drowned out by the chorus of protests from the younger students, especially those in the fifth and sixth grades. You raised your eyebrow slightly, because you noticed that your brother was one of the boys who was shouting in annoyance. 
Agatha then made a stern expression, clearly annoyed at having been interrupted, and it took only a few moments for the hall to become completely silent, and for her to smile again.
"Note that the other participating schools will be staying with us this year." She continues her speech. "Please welcome the students from Durmstrang Institute."
The doors to the main hall opened again, and a small crowd of students wearing thick winter coats entered. A tall, shabby-looking man with a scar over his right eye was at the front, guiding the students.
"Agatha!" Greeted the man with open arms as he reached the headmistress. Agatha smiled as she hugged him, and you tried to get a look at the new folks, as did the rest of the school, who were looking excitedly at the crowd. You let out a surprised exclamation when you recognized one of the faces. Your classmates also seemed to realize who it was, because many whistles and comments were heard. 
"That's Jean Grey, isn't it?" Peter Parker asked sitting next to you. When you confirmed it, he widened his eyes. "Wow, I didn't know she was still in school."
"She's the youngest catcher of the century, Parker." You commented with a smile. 
"She's very pretty, isn't she?" He retorted, and you made a noise of agreement.
The students reached the front of the hall next.
"It's good to have you here, Yondu." Said the headmistress. "How was the trip?"
"Wet and noisy, woman!" Rebutted the man humorously. He didn't seem too excited to greet any other teachers, focused only on the woman in front of him. Agatha looked at the students next.
"Please feel free to join any of the empty seats, all the houses were honored to accommodate you." She warned the students, but they only moved after Yondu waved lightly at them.
You bit the inside of your cheek, noting that almost everyone sat down at the Slytherin table. Yondu joined the students next, not failing to take a good look at the goblet before sitting down.
Agatha looked down the hall again.
"Let us also welcome our honored guests from Beauxbatons."
The students at Beauxbatons' institute seemed nicer the first moment you saw them, but as soon as you noticed the way their cloaks were bewitched to land gracefully on the floor as they moved, you figured they must be the kind of people who wouldn't be happy with Hogwarts' cleaning schedule.
The principal of Beauxbatons was a tall, stout woman, very beautiful. She had a crown on her head, and you wondered if the people of Beauxbatons were royalty in some way. 
"Ovette, it is an honor to have you with us." She greeted Principal Agatha, but unlike before, her smile was cold, almost fake. The other woman didn't seem happy to be there either, but returned the greeting in the same formality.
The Beauxbatons students sat down at Gryffindor's table, and you giggled when Quill grimaced at you from his table as one of the boys sat down next to him.
Suddenly you felt very hungry. And dinner didn't disappoint. 
"I think you'd better wait to talk to Wanda tomorrow," Mantis remarked next to you as soon as you finished eating. You frowned, looking at her.
"Why?"
"Professor Lehnsherr has been staring at the Slytherin table like he's going to cast a good behavior spell at them the entire dinner." She counters as she looks at the teachers' table. You look just in time to catch Erik with a stern look toward the students who were talking loudly on the end before he went back to eating his potato salad. 
"Maybe he just expects better behavior while we have guests here." You comments, glancing back to the Slytherin table. Wanda's gaze has not searched for yours all dinner, and you are starting to get annoyed by this.
"If you're going to risk it, I suggest you do it before curfew." Mantis quips as she looks down at her own lap. Groot is trying to steal her piece of chicken, and she smiles as she hands him a loaf of bread.
You look around. All the students are sitting at their respective house tables, and despite the loud buzz of conversation, no one is standing. You know that if you stood up, and walked to the other side of the room, everyone would look at you. Sighing in annoyance, you rest your face on your hand and your elbow on the table, giving up on talking to Wanda during dinner.
When dessert arrives, you become distracted.
//-//
Your best idea is to catch up with Wanda at the end of dinner, but you frown when she doesn't get up from the table along with the other students. The next moment, Professor Erik is joining her, and the crowd of Hufflepuff students pushing you out makes you lose sight of her.
You mumble softly to yourself when you have to go back to the dormitory, and Mantis gives you a short smile, equally annoyed by your nervousness.
//=//
You tried to sleep. Maybe at some point you did.
After you went back to the dorm with everyone else, put on your pajamas and turned off the lights, you think you fell asleep almost immediately. But there was no rest.
The minute you fell asleep, you were somewhere else, fully conscious.
It looked like a graveyard, and there was a lot of smog. You turned over, feeling breathless, and saw a red light, maybe it was a spell. The next moment you woke up, panting, opening your eyes and immediately sitting up in bed. Surprised at the amount of sweat on your shirt, you frowned.
The dormitory was completely dark, and everyone was sleeping around you. You felt thirsty, and as you tried to understand exactly what you had dreamed, you left the room.
The rest of the common room was also empty, and you sighed as an idea crossed your mind. Biting your lips, you shook your head. No, you were not going to sneak through the dormitory into the Slytherin hall, because that was absolutely against all the rules, and more importantly, it would be weird.
Ignoring the sudden urgency you felt to follow your idea, you forced yourself back to your dormitory, hoping that you would be able to sleep again.
//-//
The next day, you had no need to look for Wanda, because she found you first.
As soon as you left for breakfast, accompanied by Mantis, you gasped in surprise as you felt some jump on you just before the entrance to the main hall.
"I missed you." Wanda sighed as she wrapped her arms around your neck. Some students looked at you curiously, but you didn't mind, circling Wanda's waist to return the hug. 
"I missed you too." You retorted by hiding your face in her neck, feeling your whole body relax with the scent of her perfume.
But a sound of someone clearing their throat broke the moment, and Wanda turned away from you, her cheeks flushed.
"You saw each other last week." Pietro teased with a slight frown on his forehead. He didn't press the matter, however, greeting you afterwards.
You made your way to the Slytherin table, your newly awakened friends looking sleepy as they lazily enjoyed their breakfast.
After greeting everyone, you sat down next to Gamora, who was looking at the daily prophet.
"Not a word about what happened in the Quidditch world cup" She commented indignantly. The group shared the same reaction. "All the news is about the triwizard tournament being held at Hogwarts."
"Maybe they don't want to cause a panic." Quill then reasoned. You knew that he, as well as Mantis, only knew about what happened in the cup because of the letters you and Gamora sent. 
"It just seems like they are hiding the truth." Gamora retorts without taking her gaze off the paper. You glance at the figures moving around before turning your attention back to your coffee.
"Clearly corrupt wizarding ministry matters aside, is anyone here going to try to sign up for the tournament?" Quill asked next, causing you to frown as Nebula and Gamora gave a giggle.
"No one here is of age." You comment with confusion, but Quill gives a wry chuckle.
"You Hufflepuff people are adorable." He teases making you laugh. He stretches his arms out to Pietro and Monica's shoulders next as he is sitting between them. "My Gryffindor buddies have found the perfect solution to solve this problem."
You look at the three of them curiously. Gamora rolls her eyes, and turns her attention back to the cereal.
"Let me guess, aging potion?" Nebula then suggests, and Quill lets out an impressed exclamation.
"Look at you Nebula, who would have guessed?  I'll make a troublemaker out of you yet." He jokes, but Nebula just raises her middle finger at him, making the rest of the table laugh.
You are slightly distracted because Wanda asked you to pass the jelly to her and your fingers brushed against each other, and you had to keep it together, unaware because the sensation spread a tingle across your skin, so you are startled when Quill lets out an excited exclamation next.
"I just remembered!" He says. "I didn't complain enough about the cancellation of the Quidditch cup between the houses. I was sure Gryffindor would win this year."
Wanda lets out a wry chuckle, and Quill makes a mocking face at her, tossing a piece of bread in her direction. 
You like to see your friends like that, playing with each other. The next moment, Mantis asks how Quill intends to get past the goblet spells to put his name on it, and the boy spends the next few minutes arguing that the aging spell is enough to break the enchantment, and your friends seem happy to argue with him about it.
//-//
You're not sure how you're going to tell Wanda that you need to talk to her about the events of the vacations, and the cup, and well, your connection to her, so you ignore the suggestive look Gamora throws at you after coffee and decide to put it off for as long as you can.
Your classes seem to have gotten even harder and more boring, but you struggle. It's even trickier to pay attention when the whole school is excited about the triwizard tournament, and there' a lot of noise between and during the classes, after a while, the teachers give up on calming the moods.
Without Quidditch, you have free periods, and you use this time to spend with your friends, either playing witch chess or explosive snap, or even getting some practice with your broom.
The foreign students get more comfortable as time goes on. You would think that they would be sleeping in one of the dormitories, but they are staying on the ships and in the carriages that they have come on.
The only times you got a glimpse of Beauxbatons' carriages was on the way to the class on the Tract of Magical Creatures, and you weren't the only one trying to get a better look, but the guardian Drax was quick to scare off any curious people who got too close.
With three weeks of classes, the atmosphere at Hogwarts had changed a lot. You knew it was because the date for choosing champions was approaching, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath about it. 
Pietro and Quill actually proceeded with the idea of trying to fool the goblet with an aging potion. You and the girls joined them in the room where the magic object had been placed, and witnessed them try. And fail miserably. Wanda was worried that Pietro had been hurt when he was thrown across the room trying to get through the protective circle, but as soon as she saw his aged face, she laughed, and all the girls followed her.
Pietro and Quill were annoyed for three seconds before they began to laugh as well.
You fell silent the next moment, however, because Jean Grey entered the room accompanied by Headmaster Youndu, both of whom looked at you all reproachfully.
Jean placed a piece of parchment in the flame, and you all watched with some admiration as the goblet accepted her inscription.
The small admiring smile you had on your lip completely disappeared when Jean looked at Wanda on her way out, her gaze flashing in a way that made your stomach turn the wrong way.
When Pietro started talking about how amazing it was to have a famous player at school, you didn't feel excited about the idea anymore.
//-//
After your double period of potions on Thursday the last week of September, you could practically catch the anxious tension of your classmates in the air.
At dinner that night, the school champions would be chosen and even you, who were more concerned about the lack of news from home and the way Tony was clearly avoiding your presence, were curious to know who would be chosen.
The Goblet of Fire had been moved to the center of the main hall and you joined the Hufflepuff table with Mantis, noticing the warning look that Headmistress Okoye cast at anyone who was not behaving in the most chivalrous manner possible, but you didn't remark on it, noticing the wizards wearing formal attire at the teachers' table, probably being employees of the Ministry of Magic and reporters for the Daily Prophet.
A characteristic buzz was going on among the students, but the room fell silent as the students from the other schools entered the hall together with their principals.
When Headmistress Agatha began the selection ceremony, everyone seemed to hold their breath.
"[...] Tonight the goblet will choose the one who is worthy to represent their schools in the triwizard tournament. The ceremony of choice begins now." She gracefully presents, wand in hand. Agatha touches the tip of the goblet next, and the flame on the top changes to red briefly, expelling a piece of parchment through the air. Agatha catches the item between her fingers. "The champion of Durmstrang is Jean Grey."
The room erupts in applause and tears of celebration. You clap happily too, completely forgetting about that day in the hall. You knew that Jean had become quite popular among the Hogwarts gossips, especially since she is already a celebrity, so the reaction of your classmates was not a surprise to you.
You and the rest of the students watched as she accepted the parchment from Agatha before greeting the ministry wizards, and then walked into the small door behind the teachers' desk. As she left, everyone was silent again.
Principal Harkness repeated the wand movement on the goblet, and the flames turned blue again. She paused briefly before announcing the next champion.
"Beauxbatons' champion is Maria Hill!" 
You watch a very elegant girl get up from one of the front seats and walk in the same direction as Jean amidst the applause. The commotion is a little less than Grey's, but you know that it is only because Grey was famous.
A moment later it is the turn of the Hogwarts champion, and you are much more excited for this.
Agatha also seems more excited about this, a small smile escaping her lips before she repeats the wand movement.
When the parchment falls into her hands, she reads it aloud.
"The champion of Hogwarts..." She begins and her expression falls, her frown frowning. The brief suspense only makes everyone even more anxious. "Wanda Maximoff."
The crowd's reaction is remarkably different from the other champions; the hall explodes into a buzz of accusations of cheating, pointing out that Wanda was underage, and even snide remarks about a Slytherin representing the school, but you were barely listening. A wave of preoccupation takes over your body completely, and you look around the table for Wanda, but she is already standing up, her chin held high despite all the negative comments. She accepts the parchment Agatha hands her and heads in the same direction as the other champions. 
Harkness makes another movement with her wand and the flame from the goblet goes out. In the next second she is leaving the room, being escorted by the other directors and the ministry officials to the Hall of Champions. As soon as the door closes, the hall explodes in agitated hubbub, and many people stand up.
As the teachers call for calm, especially for the Gryffindor students who accuse the Slytherin of cheating, you and Mantis stand up and join your friends.
"I can't believe that just happened." Gamora comments as soon as you reach her, as impressed as she is concerned.
Your gaze searches for Pietro however, and he looks upset.
"Comrade, your sister is the champion of Hogwarts! She managed to do what we were trying to! Why the long face?" Quill asked his friend excited and confused, but when he went to hug Pietro, he pulled away, an angry grimace on his face.
"I can't believe Wanda kept this from me." He grumbled, you and your friends looked at him in surprise. 
"Come on Pietro, maybe she didn't think it would work and didn't want to say anything." Quill suggested but the boy shook his head.
"No you don't get it." He retorts. "She absolutely could not have risked doing something like that."
And then he turns away, and heads for the teachers' table. You and your friends are left with puzzled expressions, but upon noticing that he looked like he was going to be talking to his father for quite some time, you return to your conversation.
"I can't believe Wanda didn't tell anyone about putting in the name on the goblet, that's incredible." Quill adds. Nebula begins to argue how dangerous it was for someone without enough magical acquaintance to be in such an ordeal, and your stomach does a turn. You walk away from the conversation, heading toward the group of Tony's friends who were standing a few feet away from you.
"Hey, your friend just caused a stir around here." Tony jokes as soon as you reach him.
"I noticed it." You retort as you spot Professor Strange separating with a spell a student who jumped on top of another. "Everyone is talking about how dangerous it is for her to participate, can you tell me anything good about it?"
Tony laughs at the desperation in your voice. 
"I figure eternal glory and the thousand-gallon prize is the good part." He teases, and you run your hands through your hair, trying to ignore the urge to go into that little room and find out if Wanda is okay. Tony assumes a serious expression next, and lowers his tone, not that it was necessary, since everyone seems wrapped up in their own conversations. "You also find it strange that this happens after what happened at the cup, don't you?" He asks and you nod. Tony sighs. "Maybe this is a good time for you to talk to Wanda, little sis. About how you feel about her. And well, maybe as you help her practice for the tournament, you guys can figure out what that connection means."
You nod, feeling your cheeks warm. It was still strange how all your friends knew about the way you cared for Wanda.
You wanted to ask Tony if he had found out anything since you last talked properly, but Professor Strange ordered everyone back to their dormitories the next moment, and after Tony messed up your hair, you turned and headed toward the Hufflepuff students who were leaving the hall.
//-//
There was no way you could sleep without talking to Wanda, so you risked an detention by sneaking out of the dorm after curfew. Mantis grumbled at you to be careful before turning over in her sleepy state, making you laugh softly.
You used a simple invisibility spell on yourself, not so strong that you were completely invisible, but enough to blend into the shadows of the castle as you descended back into the dungeons. Hogwarts was, yes, very scary at that time.
The board at the entrance was sleeping, and after removing the invisibility spell, you poked it with your wand to wake it up.
"What, what is that?" Complained the irritated painting, looking around and acquiring an angry expression when he noticed you.
"I'm sorry. Keep your voice down please." You asked. "I need to get inside."
The painting looked at you suspiciously.
"I have seen you here before, but you are not from the honorable house of Slytherin."
"That is not your problem, Mr. Talos." You retort impatiently. "Just let me in. The password is Polyjuice Potion."
"Your friends will get in trouble if they keep sharing their password with you." Warned the painting before moving, giving you passage to enter.
"Thank you, Mr.Talos." You said with slight irony, walking into the dormitory.
You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked around at the empty environment. You were used to the place, but it was still creepy when poorly lit like this.
"We don't like intruders." Spoke a voice in the corner of the room, making you jump in fright.
"Damn, Nat, you scared the hell out of me." You complained, putting your hand to your chest and feeling your heart racing. The girl giggled, closing the book in her hand and standing up in your direction.
"Why are you here?" she asked with her arms crossed.
You gave her a lopsided smile.
"I came to check on Wanda, of course."
Nat narrowed her eyes at you.
"Why?"
"Why?" you retort after a short laugh. "Because she has just been chosen for the deadliest competition in the wizarding world, and everyone in this place wants to remind me of it!" You exclaim, and can't stop yourself. "I heard a girl say in the hallway that the tournament was banned for the number of deaths! Did you know that? Yeah, neither did I. And well, I can't sleep, because I keep thinking that something like that might happen to Wanda. And when I think about it, I can't breathe and I..."
"Stark, breathe!" Natasha interrupts you with concern, placing her hands on your shoulders. You gasp slightly, realizing that your eyes are filled with tears as you notice your vision blurring. You sigh, trying to normalize your breathing as you force a smile and wipe your face. "God, what was that all about?"
"It was nothing." You grumble. "I'm just worried."
Natasha doesn't buy your excuse, though.
"Tony told me about what happened in the cup." She says as she lowers her arms. You look at her in surprise. "He also told me about how connected to Wanda you have been feeling. I just didn't imagine that you would almost have a little tantrum at the possibility of her getting hurt."
You feel your cheeks flush, looking away to your shoes.
"I didn't have a tantrum."
"Nearly." She teases, but you don't laugh, feeling your stomach churn. Nat looks at you seriously next. "Wanda's not here."
You raise your head in surprise.
"What? Why?"
"I don't know." She replies. "Believe me, you weren't the only one who tried to talk to her. The whole dorm was wanting to know how she tricked the goblet, but no one has seen her since the selection."
You feel your heart soar, and seeing the way you react, Nat raises a hand to your arm again.
"Hey, try not to think about it so much." She says. "Maybe she's with her father. I imagine it's been quite a commotion that a minor has swindled the goblet, and the ministry must be trying to decide what to do. She must be in the teachers' dormitory, she is still a child after all."
"Wanda is already fifteen." You grumble.
"Yes, and I'm sixteen. We're all kids, Y/N." She retorts. "I don't think Professor Lehnsherr was going to leave his daughter alone at such a time."
You sigh, nodding in agreement.
"Try to get some sleep, will you?" Nat asks next. "I'm sure Wanda will talk to you tomorrow. And well, I think she's going to need her best friend to not sleep through the conversation."
"Wanda said I'm her best friend?" 
Nat laughs at the way you talk, probably sounding like a lovesick puppy. 
"God, you two are a disaster." She comments before waving you toward the exit. You bid her goodnight and thank her before walking back to your dorm.
//-//
345 notes · View notes
bibbykins · 4 years ago
Text
Penumbric Commitments (M)
A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!! I wrote this up real quick yesterday, so please forgive any lacking in quality, but I had the idea and absolutely sprinted with it! I hope you all enjoy and look forward to the next full length fic I post, which I gave a not so little hint in here to!
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Warnings: 18+, unhealthy relationship, manipulation, yelling, rough sex, light bondage, the usage of a belt as wrist restraints (consensual), brief fingering, male cumming inside, talking about not wanting a child, daddy kink, threatening to leave, offering to kill someone, semi-graphic talks of killing someone
Word count: 3.8k
Genre: Soft Yandere, Mafia! Au
Summary: Hindsight says Namjoon so easily complying with not having children was too easy considering his position in the business and the nightmare his parents had readily become. What you didn't realize was how far Namjoon was willing to prove to you he meant what he said that day: all you both ever need is each other.
Note: this is a canon drabble apart of the Silhouetted Bonds fic linked here
It's times like these that you regret getting a traditional clock. The ticking was incessant and daunting. It felt like it was getting closer and closer to your ear with the deafening silence it was slicing through. Analogs had to be the way to go, or better yet, none at all. The last thing you needed right now was a reminder of how much time has been spent at this table. Namjoon had sprinted home the moment his mother called him after your meeting with her. 
----
"Mrs. Kim, always a pleasure." You shook the older woman's hand with a tight smile. 
She returned yours with an equally fake smile, "Please, you know you can call me mother." She chided, but nevertheless you stayed silent as you sat back down at the table in your home. It used to be mom.
It was 8 a.m. your mother in law wanted to meet, so to be petty, you stated 9 a.m. would be great. It's a shame that your relationship with her came to this, but truthfully, it was far from your fault.
While in the beginning she had been like a mother to you, things quickly took a steep downturn the moment Namjoon reintroduced you into his life. The woman who had once been lively, rebellious, and took charge became a demure, stoic, and merely content wife. She had given you talks about your duty as the wife of the boss and the expectations she expected you to fulfill nowadays as opposed to telling stories of her youth and teaching you how to bake eccentric treats. She had even admonished you for leaving Namjoon, an idea she gave you really. Since then, she had always stated your allegiance to the business and your own husband had yet to be proven in her eyes. The notion struck you to only provide her with business professional talks.
You had always known her and Namjoon's father had been a marriage of convenience, but there seemed to be intense love between them, at least at one point. You're not sure when that collapsed in your absence, and sure you felt bad,but you did not care for her patronizing tones. If Namjoon wouldn't retaliate, she almost definitely would've had you killed the moment you decided to leave her precious son. 
"Now, I understand you're a busy woman, so I'll be chaste." She spoke as she took her seat, giving you a pointed look, "Do you feel as though you've made up for your betrayal?" This was obviously a trick question in her eyes, the simple answer being no.
However, you couldn't care less, "I have never betrayed anyone close to me, including Namjoon, if that's what you mean." You met her eyes with valor, "I don't see why you feel the need to ask such a silly question each time I see you." 
She laughed humorlessly, "Maybe I'm hoping for the right answer to cross your stubborn mind." Truly, if Namjoon didn't love and cherish his parents so much you would've told her to fuck off and mind her business, maybe focus on her own shitty marriage, by now. Alas, Namjoon was a people pleaser and fiercely intent on being a filial son.
"You mean your answer to the question about how I feel?" You raised a brow, "Even when apart from Namjoon, I took no other man. I've never even lied to Namjoon, I've been nothing but an honest and hardworking wife after forgiving his own shortcoming in honesty." You watch her fist clench in her lap at the suggestion of her precious boy having a shortcoming of any sort, "A shortcoming well remedied, seeing as I'm still here." You chided lightly in spite of the heavy tension. You pitied your staff in this moment for having to watch this battle of wills.
"Sometimes husbands lie to… protect, their wives." She struggled to find the right words as she regurgitated what Namjoon's father undoubtedly told her one too many times. Misery loves company, and goodness, did she want you to be as miserable as her.
You returned her fake smile two fold before speaking, "That's lovely, but I don't need protecting from my husband, I need trust, honesty, respect." The final word made her back straighten, "I'd like to live in reality with him, not be shielded from it, but I respect what you wish for your own marriage, but this is what I like for mine." 
She hummed in faux thought, "Very well, I can leave you to reflect on what marriage should be, you're still so young." You fought the urge to roll your eyes, "However, you're not that young…" This was a new addition, "When will I be receiving a grandchild?" 
Your brows furrowed. Namjoon told you she took the news of no grandchildren quite well. He told you that she was informed of your no children rule mere days after you spoke the words. The radio silence on the topic of children each time you met with either of his parents confirmed much for you, and you had even found yourself quite proud of him for standing his ground with you. Surely, his parents are not nearly old enough to be so forgetful.
This was the first question in a while that made you falter, and you could see the satisfaction she gained from it, "Grandchildren? I'm unsure what you-"
"Namjoon told me the last time I visited him in prison, you wanted to wait for your fifth wedding anniversary before trying for children, isn't that coming up quite soon?" She raised a brow and you felt your heart shatter. 
He lied to you. Again. He lied to you mere moments after you were ready to forgive him for lying to you the first time.
You let out a bitter laugh, "He did now?" She nodded and you shut your eyes for a moment, "It seems I've been made a fool of again." You sighed before looking as confusion crossed your mother-in-law's features, "I told Namjoon the very last time I visited him in prison that I did not want kids, ever."
"You know that's not possible for him, he's a successor." She laughed at your boldness.
"You know that he is an adult man with 6 brothers, biological or not, who will all marry one day, surely one of them will adopt or have a child." She scoffed at this, "I got my tubes tied years ago." This wiped the smile off her face.
"Does Namjoon know about this?" She snapped and you nodded with a bitter smile.
"He accompanied me to the appointment for moral support." You shot back.
"Well, your tubes can be untied and-"
"No." You deadpanned.
"No?" She mimicked in disbelief.
 "If Namjoon requires a child, he will also require a new wife." Your voice was cold and you watched shock settle into the woman across from you, "With his habit of lying coming to light, he may have to find a new wife regardless."
She stood, "Don't be-"
"Please, do not waste your breath on orders I will not be following." You held your hand up to silence her.
"I'll call Namjoon, he can talk this out with you, so you can see things our way." She tried to sound reassuring as one of your staff rushed to see her out respectfully when you did not budge from your seat.
You stayed seated at the mahogany table, staring at your wedding ring. You didn't want to get a divorce. You loved Namjoon, more than anything, and yet, did he love you more than anything?
----
You're not sure how long you stayed there, questioning everything, but it was enough time for Namjoon to come home. He ripped the door open, eyes searching frantically, ready to make sure you had not already left him before his eyes landed on your figure. From there, he took his seat across from you at the table and waited until he could no longer take the silence.
"Are you going to say anything?" Your husband's voice was calm, although fear was evident in his timbre.
You sucked your teeth and shrugged, continuing to look at your freshly manicured nails, "What's there to say?" Your voice was short, as if you were already tired of the conversation before it could even start, "You lied to me."
Your husband dropped his head into his hands and sighed, "Junebug, I'm sorry, I-"
"You embarrassed me, again." You look at him for the first time all night with a sharp glare, "Are you trying to find an excuse to divorce or do you just not care about me?" 
"Neither!" His head shot up and he met your eyes with deep regret when he realized you were looking at him with the anger and hurt he found you with all this years ago, "I love you, more than anything-"
"Obviously not!" You snapped, "Do you have any idea how it feels to explain to your shitty and judgy mother in law that, in spite of what her precious son said, you had no plans to have children, that you got your fucking tubes tied?!" Namjoon sighed, either in shame or pain, "Were you just hoping that would come around? That I'm such a fickle woman that I don't mean what I say?" 
His brows furrowed, "No, if I thought that, why did I let you get your tubes tied?!"
"Let me?" Your voice was mockingly soft, "You let me, huh?" You cocked your head slightly and he closed his eyes in frustration, "How fucking charitable of you, my sweet husband, master of the fucking house, to let your dumb little wife make a choice for her body!" You stood, "How considerate of you to play supportive husband only to fold the moment your mother asks you a question-"
"You know what my duty as the only son is!" It was his turn to raise his voice, but he immediately regretted it as he saw your eye twitch.
"And you knew my stance on kids before you got out of prison." You seethed, "You know why I don't want a fucking kid, nor do I plan to fold on my stance, because I'm all I've got left there." Namjoon's mouth parted slightly before he pressed his lips together.
"It's not my fault you don't want a kid because you'd be a bad mother just like your own." The words left his mouth before he could even begin to consider the repercussions. He was about to open his mouth again to back track wildly, but it was far too late as you took a step back, the weight of his words being too much to take from across the table.
He watched hurt consume your irises for only the second time in his life, the first time being mere hours before you left him for years, before you made him promise to never betray you like that again as a condition for you to come back to him. A condition that he evident did not adhere to in your eyes. "Do you want to know what made my mother such a bad mother?" He watched as the embers of rage within your eyes were only stoked by his reflection in your pupils, although he could see a thin layer of moisture begin to build up, pain, "You know, like I would be?" Your words were almost mocking as he stayed eerily still, "An unsupportive, isolating, and shitty sorry excuse for a fucking husband." Your word hit him like a truck.
Unsupportive. Isolating. Sorry excuse for a husband.
You weren't wrong right now. He felt shitty. He knew he should've just stood his ground. His parents didn't matter if it meant losing you, "I didn't mean that, what I said about-"
"You're right." A tear fell and he felt his heart shatter, "So if you want a kid, it'll have to be with someone else."
"I don't want anyone else, I never have!" He made his way to you as you weakly stepped back, "You're all I need." His voice was soft as he went to grab your hand, but you pulled away.
"You said that last time." Your tears were beyond your control as you wiped at them in vain, "You said that mere days before you told your mom that we were going to have kids and you told me your mom took the news well." You sniffled, "You lied to me, I can't believe that you lied to me and let me just walk around like a fool believing you, again!" 
He was stunned silent again. You were right. He had lost his back bone under the strict gaze of his parents and folded under pressure. He betrayed you, and all he could do was hope for your forgiveness.
You shook your head as he remained mute, "I need some time." You went to walk past him and to the door but he engulfed you in a hug, "Namjoon!" You struggled weakly to pull him from you but froze when you heard a sniffle.
"Please, don't go." He begged as he held you close, "I can't lose you again, I'm so sorry, please."
You fought sobs from escaping your mouth, "You lied to me, and your mom-"
"I'll kill her if you want me to." He spoke and your blood ran cold at his tone. He was serious, "My mom and my dad, I'll tell them we're not having children and if they can't handle that, they can leave us alone or die."
Your eyes were wide, tears frozen in time. Namjoon loved his parents. He was always a kid intent on surpassing their expectations, and he had made that clear to you when you started dating in highschool. You were his only sign of rebellion. He was intended to marry a woman from an affluent family, but he met you. You had figured that would be where his rebellion ended, but here he was, handing his parent's hearts in your hands and awaiting orders.
"Joonie, y-you can't mean-" You sputtered to reason but he only held you tighter.
"Or even if you just want me to kill them, I will, with my own hands of course, nobody else can know." His remained headstrong in his resolve, stroking your hair, "I don't care what I have to do to keep you with me." He kissed the top of your head, "You are the only person, the only thing on this Earth that matters to me I cannot live without you." 
A sick, and extremely twisted part of you wanted to call your mother-in-law and say, "Hah!" You wanted to rub it in her face that her son, in spite of everything, chose you. Her precious boy has been yours for years now. However, your sanity slipped through the cracks as you shook your head again.
"You love your parents." You shook your head as you cried into his chest, "And if you felt that way, why would you lie to me?"
He sniffled, "I was weakened, not 100% sure you would truly accept me with open arms and I panicked when they asked." He sighed, "I know it's pathetic and I know I seemed like I knew we would make it, but I didn't know that. They never brought it up after that so I naively thought they would forget and when they asked me again, I would tell them the truth and-"
"You're so stupid." You cried harder into his chest and felt him nod, "If you're scared to face your parents, tell me, and we'll do it together." You were surely ruining his dress shirt, but he stroked your hair soothingly, "Your mom has been calling me a shitty wife for years and after today, she must truly believe it, and I-I should take some time-" Namjoon held you, arms sliding down your body as he got down to his needs and you felt your heart drop, and you gasped, "Stop, don't-" 
You tried to help him up but he grabbed your wrists as he looked up at you with tear stained cheeks and eyes as wet as yours, shaking his head at your frantic protests as he kissed your hands and your wedding ring tenderly, "I can't lose you again." His voice was weighty with sorrow at the thought of you being away from him, "You matter more to me than my duty as a successor does, than my parents do, even more than this whole fucking business." He rubbed his cheek against your hand in desperation as you stood frozen from the shock of Namjoon begging on his knees with the utmost humility. The most powerful man in the city, undoubtedly the country as well, was on his knees crying and begging you to stay, "If killing my parents is what I have to do to prove it, I will. Name how you want it done, when you want it done, and I'll do it." He was dead serious and he could tell you knew it as tears spilled onto your cheeks even more, "You're a better wife than I deserve, and all I can ever hope is to be even a fraction of the husband you deserve, and I'm sorry I've been missing the mark." This made your face twist in pain, regret. Namjoon, up until today, had been nothing short of perfect, and even now he was making up for it, "Almost losing you nearly killed me, and-and I get that sometimes people need time to calm down but I would just prefer you beat the shit out of me instead-"
"I didn't mean that either!" You cried out as you sunk down to your knees to hug the sobbing man before you, "You aren't a sorry excuse for a husband, you're just a goddamn idiot, and I didn't want time I just didn'twant to see your stupid face because I was so angry." You laughed as he did for a moment, "Above all else, you're an amazing husband. I love you, always have, I just hate when you lie-" Your voice in his ear was like heaven as he felt a weight lift of his shoulders.
He grabbed your legs to wrap around his waist before you could properly settle onto your knees. He held you close and he soothed your cries, "I haven't lied to you since, I can promise you that." He sighed and you scoffed, "You don't have to believe me. I'm just asking you to stay with me so I can prove it over time." 
"I'm...I'm not leaving you." You sighed into his neck before he pulled you back to trap your lips between his as he kissed your with a vigorous passion. When you returned his kiss with an equal amount of desperation, he began to stand with you in his arms before promptly laying you on the couch, never detaching his mouth from yours the whole time.
You settled into the velvet cushions as he ground himself into your sex, making you gasp, "I love you, my darling." He murmured into your mouth while one of his hands slid your dress up and your panties to the side before brushing his fingers across your pussy and groaning at your wetness, "Oh fuck, you're so wet, baby." His mouth went to your ear as you moaned, threading your fingers into his hair, "Was it me promising to kill for you or me getting onto my knees that did it, hm?" He rubbed slow circles over your clit and you gasped, "You get off on me spilling blood for you? You get wet by me demeaning myself to keep you right here, where you belong?" 
"Yes, daddy, I do- fuck!" You clutched his hair harder as his finger slipped in and your hips wiggled impatienly, "Just fuck me, I don't care about being stretched, fuck me." 
Too desperate to even hesitate, Namjoon undid his belt, ripping it from his trousers as he secured your wrists within the leather garment, as he had done many times before. He undid your belt as he pushed your arms up and his pants down with his boxers. He slid into you with a deep groan that you matched with a wanton moan. He fucked himself into you feverishly, wasting no time in chasing your high as his nimble finger went down to stimulate your clit, "I love you so fucking much, y/n." He groaned as he felt you tighten, "I don't care who I have to kill to prove it, I'll even let you watch the light drain from their fucking eyes if it means you'll stay with me." 
You moaned out as he whispered gruesome threats to the outside world intermingling with sweet nothings as he held the belt around your wrists,using it as leverage to fuck you harder. If you were sane, you would not be getting closer and closer to orgasm as he cursed the rest of the world into painful deaths just to have you as his wife, but here you were, clenching around him and opening your legs further so he can go deeper, "Shit, I'm gonna cum!" You cried out, arms going over Namjoon's head so you could pull him down to you by the neck and kiss his lips messily.
His hand went from your clit as he wrapped his arm around you to hoist you up and slam himself into you further, "That's right baby, cum for daddy and I'll give you my cum." He cooed in spite of the strain to keep himself from busting you before you get your release. His words only threw you over the edge as you climaxed, hurdling him into his own. He fucked his cum into you like always and you moaned lightly until he was done.
He held himself inside of you as you both gained your breath again, exchanging occasional kisses, "You don't have to kill them, you know." You spoke finally "Although, I won't be so cordial with their bullshit anymore."
He nodded, "I'm by your side, Junebug, forever and always." You smiled before kissing him.
"And I, you." You hummed blissfully.
"We have everything we need between just the two of us, I promise." He smiled against your kiss while you nodded, "You'll be the only one calling me daddy for the rest of out lives- hey!" You smack his chest lightly as you both laughed blissfully, letting the seriously twisted shit that just transpired be a simple part of the past.
"Your mom is a bitch." You giggled tiredly as he chuckled.
"Don't worry about being nice to her if you don't want to, I have my priorities straight." He gave you another kiss that you returned with glee.
As he was cleaning you up, your hazy mind allowed you to feel smug at the fact that you just saved your shitty in-laws from certain death. You were their ticket to life. You were their precious successor's priority. You were his only true love.
Namjoon watched with nothing but love as he tucked your sleeping form into bed. Thinking on it now, he doesn't know if he could even stand the idea of you loving a child as much as you loved him. He enjoyed his monopoly over your affection, and a child would only throw a wrench in that for him. Taehyung liked kids, Jungkook seemed like a family man, maybe even Hoseok if that new girl he's saying is as serious for him as he says. All it took was one kid to carry on the business, so you didn't need to worry your pretty little head about it.
All you had to worry about was staying by his side and all he had to worry about was being a good enough husband to keep you there. He kissed your forehead as he held you closer to him, texting his mom the next time she disrespects you or his marriage, there would be consequences. 
You were the only person he needed. He would do anything to make you understand that. 
The ticking of the clock was nowhere to be heard as you laid in Namjoon's arms. You snuggled into him as you caught sight of the thinly veiled threat he sent to his own mother on account of your feelings. He was yours just as much yours were his and the victory of it all had never tasted so sweet. His heartbeat was all you could hear, steady, loving, and to the beat of the drum you commanded. 
You both wouldn't have it any other way.
Masterlist
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kithtaehyung · 2 years ago
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I loved Anytime!! Read it a couple minutes after it came out and can now properly put thoughts into words lol. First, when i got to the part reader confirms somethings going on w tae and jimin i like, just stared at the ceiling for a full minute smiling like a fool, I love it!!!! Excited to see where that goes!!
Also, I know you kept on saying that it’s a lot of dialogue, but I love that shit! Especially because we got more interactions with the side characters and their different perspectives on readers situation.
I especially loved the reader and brother interactions. I was crossing my fingers for a reveal, but i know that’s too juicy to reveal right now lol. But their interactions and her thoughts about them brought up so many more intriguing questions. I love that it’s clear he loves and cares and she sees that AND she recognizes it goes too far sometimes but she understands why he is the way he is. That’s so real in terms of family dynamics, to love someone, respect them, be grateful to them, understand them but also be like, wow you’re the fricken worst sometimes lol
I also read the more constructive feedback you got and posted under the cut and wanted to say that I think the place the circular-ish feel comes from, at least to me, is so realistic as someone who overthinks (not trying to knock their perspective, but they got me thinking more concretely what I liked about this chapter, so this is what it’s coming out as). Like i just got off the phone w my parents yesterday talking about a problem that got brought back up from a year and a half ago and i was expressing all the same feelings i was back then, and I could hear the confusion in their voice like, aren’t you over this? We talked about this? And i feel like that’s kind of what’s happening with reader maybe. First of all this isnt some random dude, it’s her brothers best friend AND someone everyone in her circle knows. Like she was realizing at the party, her own relationships with a lot of people will change should they take this step above and beyond her brother’s issues. Plus, while the feelings and stuff have been there for a while, it’s only been looked at as anything potentially serious for like a week max right? It takes time to shed all that off and for a worrier, even a recovering one lol, that will take a while and a lot of these types of conversations or circular inner thoughts just starting back up on the top of the worry list. And that’s on top of her past relationship things. I just reread the original 3tan again earlier this week, and previous to rereading that and then some of the things mentioned in this chapter, I’d kind if forgotten about how insecure she’d been about her past relationships. Yoongi brings out such a confident side to her that it was easy to forget that her viability as a partner had been a real concern for her. So, is she coming back to the same things over and over? Maybe. And in the face of that same confidence that Yoongi brings i could see how that feels frustrating or dissonant. But even that feels really realistic to me, because she’s now away from the only person right now that could give her concrete evidence to shut down those insecurities. And in terms of the convos in this chapter, each of her friends bring something a little different in the conversations, a different way of thinking about it or just different levels of information (Tae knowing Yoongi so well, Dom knowing readers perspective and his past stuff and seeing a little bit of their interactions, Yuri with a completely unbiased opinion bc she doesnt know who he is yet). I love the finish line analogy as a way for reader to structure her thoughts about this particularly.
I was sooo scared when the reveal of what happened at basketball happened. I thought it was going to go down the route of her thinking Yoongi was like faking things to keep her at his place and out of harms way as some favor to her brother. But I’m glad it didn’t go down that way and to me shows growth too for her.
I just really loved this chapter! I think it might be my favorite. I always get so scared when I see angst in your tags, but at least in this series it’s mostly been pining angst which is the type of angst I love the most :)
Thanks for doing what you do, this series has brought me a lot of joy!
HOLY CRAP!! oh my gosh, i don't think you know how comforting this beautiful and thoughtful message was.. i'm so happy you're excited about tae and jimin, first off!! it does seem like a surprise, but if you go back, there are some hints :D and i am relieved af that you enjoyed all the dialogue and side character interactions. i really was scared it was gonna be boring, but i just thought we needed some outside perspective and time to build other dynamics for a bit. more under the cut and constructive feedback is from here
YAY FOR BRO AND READER!! both revealing and intriguing? i will take it! i wanted to show y'all another side of bro for so long. glad it's being received well! and you're so right and i'm glad you picked up their flawed but still very solid relationship. the worst sometimes? ABSOLUTELY LOL that's just siblings being siblings.
OH MY GOD I AM SO SO HAPPY YOU SAID ALL OF THIS OK.. like. absolutely breathing a sigh of relief right now. because yessss i tend to overthink some things, even if they've passed and are way in the past already. i would need to have so many conversations to have a point drilled home in my head.
and exactly!! if you have older siblings and an age gap it's like.. that would be awkward? to suddenly be in a relationship with one of their friends (unless you're lucky and are in a rare af situation.) and the TIME. THANK YOU!! it hasn't been that long since they started really seeing each other. i would still overthink about a hookup/sneaky scenario like that so much lol.
right. the relationships that reader has gone through.. made her insecure as fck. we know she's a badass and smart and capable of great things. so to have relationships that did this to her? it will take a long, long time to get through. but yoongi's pretty damn mature in this one and seems to have some past relationship sting of his own. so it could very well be different (in a good way) with him. they just have to get through that mindset.
YESSS you also picked up on the different perspectives, too! i'm glad. i did that intentionally to really solidify reader's growing confidence in allowing herself to feel things. and construct a finish line to reach.
yeah, a lot of people seem to think that way about the basketball reveal! but i think reader was just so shaken that not everything processed at once. growth is also there.
i am SO stoked to hear this may be your new fave! i was hella nervous about it, for sure. happy to be bringing you joy and thank you so damn much again for this input!
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enigmawrappedinhypocrisy · 4 years ago
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*Request* Okay. Thanks! Could the reader be in to wrestling and her and barley are best friends? And something happened and they find out they’re falling for each other? And Ian is always teasing the reader? And a kiss at the end? Sorry if it’s a bit confusing.. again thanks!
 Okay I’m not sure how to do this… and I’m not into wrestling… And i’m really bad at this getting things done thing… sooo… I’m sorry, I know this has been in my asks for 100 years. But excuses… And i’m tired of this being in my drafts sooo… However, Hopefully it's decent enough. 
Fandom: Onward
Pairings: Barley x Reader (mention of grandchildren once but nothing that indicates gender... I think...) 
Warnings: Bad writing, Quick Mention of drunk idiots harassing reader, I don’t know a thing about Wrestling, Fluff, very bouncy thoughts... a tiny little bit of almost angst. 
❀✦ Master List✦❀
You met Barley at a wrestling match when a few drunk idiots decided to hassle you. As they tend to do… 
You ran into the first, seemingly safe person you saw. You looked at him with puppy eyes and were grateful he understood your silent plea. 
Barley smiled warmly and put his arm around you. He pretended to be your boyfriend until the guys lost interest in you and left. He made some jokes to lighten the mood and struck up a casual conversation with you, as if you really did know each other. You found yourself amazed and feeling better, it seemed this elf boy radiated security and gentleness.  
Then, with a simple thank you, you’d parted ways; only to run into each other again at the local diner after the match. It was there you had sat and talked well into the early hours of the morning. 
You learned he was interested in many things you were, and you just felt… content around him. By the time you had to part, numbers were exchanged, and he’d texted you before noon that day. 
You began hanging out shortly after that. You were nearly always at each other’s house, and quickly became close with his family. His mother adored you and his brother felt comfortable enough to joke around with you. 
All in all you and Barley were quite close.
But not as close as your family's seemed to think you were… or maybe hope would be more appropriate…  
*
The weekend had finally arrived and you made your way to Barley’s house, as planned, after work.
There was a big wrestling event in the evening and you and Barley had plans to hang out and watch it together. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to spend a lot of time at the Lightfoot house so no one batted an eye when you showed up a little early. 
Ms. Lightfoot welcomed you and let you know that Barley had called saying he'd be a little late, and she was going out with friends. As she was leaving she turned to wink at you telling you, with a knowing look, to have fun. 
You thanked her as you felt your cheeks flush with warmth and made your way to the familiar living room. You didn't mind waiting for Barley, in fact, you'd be willing to wait all night if it meant spending time with him. Not that you would tell him that...
Lost in your thoughts about how dumb and sappy that sounded even in your mind, and the implications therein, you hadn't noticed Barley's brother come in.
You had spent a fair amount of time with both brothers since you’d first met Barley. So by this time Ian was pretty comfortable around you, sometimes even coming to you for help or advice. Especially when it entailed something he might have been too embarrassed about to ask his mother or brother about.  
 Ian had decided to take a break from homework, and get a snack when he found you lost in thought on his couch. When he came back from the kitchen only to find you with the same dazed expression several minutes later he decided to tease you a little. 
"Barley late for date night?" Ian asks, his tone even, leaning against the wall an apple in hand. 
"Yea- wait no! Why would you say that?" You blink taken off guard by the sudden question. 
Ian raises an eyebrow in a ‘really?’ expression. 
“Shut up” you try and fail to keep the blush from your voice. "We're just… eh… hanging out!" You defend a little too enthusiastically. 
“Interesting that’s the part you chose to respond to…” Ian chuckles, before heading back upstairs. If you weren't ready to admit your feelings, who was he to do it for you… besides, this was  far more amusing.
*
It wasn't much longer until Barley arrived home, a little disheveled. The match wasn't due to start for another hour, maybe more depending on how things went, and yet it looked like the elf boy had rushed home. 
Why? 
The only thought that continued to creep into your mind was you… he rushed home to see you. The idea of It warmed your heart, and filled you with a longing. A longing for a potential life where Barley was coming home after work each day to see you. 
He'd find you cooking… reading… working on some project… and kiss you. 
You'd ask him about his day… and he yours. 
You'd share a pleasant dinner and end the night cuddled on the couch… 
You’d be happy… 
Ian's words run on loop in your mind and you don’t notice the way Barley’s face lights up upon seeing you. 
Did Barley think you were dating? That this was a date? 
Did he want it to be? 
Did you? 
You hadn't noticed you were staring until Barley brought attention to it. 
"What?" You jump. 
"I asked why you were looking at me like that?" he gives you his charming little half smile as he repeats, what you assume was, his earlier question. 
"Oh, um… nothing… no reason" you blush and desperately avoid looking at him. 
Barley watches you for a moment, clearly not believing your answer, but gives in with a shrug. 
"I'm just gonna go put my stuff down and get something to drink… you want something?" He asks. 
"Okay, um… no thanks" you try to sound casual all the while you're incredibly aware of your quickening heartbeat. 
Barley nods before leaving you, calling to you from the kitchen. He asks about your day. You give a non answer in response and ask him about his. 
He goes on to tell you about some funny thing his boss said in response to an irate customer, and soon returns to the living room. He hands you your drink before flopping down next to you. 
You scold him as you nearly spill. Not really realizing he brought you something even though you told him you didn’t need him to… not only that, but it was definitely your favorite�� why would he… how… 
"Sorry my love" he smirks, clearly not sorry. 
You roll your eyes giving him a little shove in response to the nickname. He often called you sweet things. Things you previously attributed to his personality or teasing but now they had you wondering.
When he called you those things, sweetheart, darling, dear… was he actually hinting at what he really felt? 
You look at him out of the corner of your eye and quickly squeak noticing he was watching you with an indescribable emotion.
"W-what?" You try to act casual. 
"What's wrong with you?" He asks, blunt and to the point. 
"What do you mean?" You try and play it off, as if your mind wasn’t playing that little game with the levers and ball… and see you can’t even remember what it’s called… and it’s your analogy… 
PINBALL! Your brain was playing pinball… the dinging buzzing things the ball hits against being the sudden and many thoughts… which makes you the ball? Or was the ball the thoughts… bouncing around… there goes the analogy again…  
"You're being all quiet and…” he indicates you vaguely,  “did my mom say something to you? She's been teasing me about grandchildren lately, she didn't say something like that too you did she?" 
Your eyes widen and you suspect Barley didn't mean to let that slip out by the blush now coloring his ears. 
"No… but um… what-what do you tell her when she asks about that kind of stuff?" Yeah super subtle… 
Barley scratches the back of his neck, “I tell her we haven't discussed that…" 
Wait…
"Why would we… Um Barley?" You push away your insecurities, fear that you’d read the situation wrong, and decide to just jump in with both feet. 
Or tip over the machine? Does it work now? The analogy? 
He 'hmms'. 
"Do you think we're dating?" You try to phrase it gently but cringe when you hear yourself. You don’t want to come across rude, like you’re making fun of him… but also don’t wanna let on how much you’re starting to suspect you want him to say yes… 
Barley looks away from you, practically purple at this point. 
"Uh… no of course not…" It sounded small, nervous but... hopeful? 
"Do… do you want to?" you manage to force out, slightly proud of your mostly even tone.
Do you?
You’re still not sure at this point yourself, you’d only just realized the way you feel about the elf boy that was your best friend. Did you want to risk that? What happens if this was just a little puppy attraction, lust thing… and whatever relationship you begin quickly sizzles out? 
Barley is looking at his hands as he nervously fiddles with the zipper of his vest. He bites his lip and tries to avoid your gaze. 
Oh… 
You soften, “It’s okay if you do… I mean… wanna… um…” Now you can’t find the words, which becomes more difficult when Barley looks up at you, hope shining in his eyes. 
“What are you saying?” he prompts, heart pounding in his chest. He hopes you can’t hear it. 
You shift, turning towards him slightly. “Well… if you wanted to maybe go on a date or something…” 
“Yes?” 
“I’d probably be okay with that… I mean… if you want to” you add the last part, now desperately hoping this wasn’t some awful joke. 
Barley smiles, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair from your face. “Do you wanna go on a date with me?” He asks softly, apparently having gained some confidence back. 
You nod, leaning into his touch before you realize you’re doing it. 
“Tomorrow night?” he suggests. 
Again, you nod, not trusting your voice. 
Barley smiles, his attention turning back to the tv. The match was starting soon, the announcers already talking about what they expect to happen. He leans back, his arm resting behind you on the top of the couch. Not an uncommon thing for the elf boy. What was uncommon, however, was you relaxing against his side and how right it felt.
Without a word, perhaps because he wasn’t sure he could trust his voice either, Barley brings his arm down around you, holding you against him. 
If you had the courage yourself to look up at him, you would have seen the flushing upon his cheeks. But either way this was comfortable and you weren’t in a hurry to end it any time soon. 
*
A few hours later Barley's mom returns home. Maaaybe a little drunk which results in her cooing loudly when she finds you and Barley asleep and cuddling on the couch. 
This, and her half stumbling up the stairs, manages to rouse you and Barley from your comfortable nap.
Barley yawns, and slowly gets to his feet. 
"Come on, I'll drive you home" he offers another yawn soon follows.
"Don't worry, I can drive myself" you stretch, not really pleased with the idea of making the trip home yourself.
"You're too tired- not safe" Barley half murmurs. 
"You're too tired" you retort. 
"You should stay here… on the couch… or I can take the couch" he stumbles over his words. 
You nod in agreement flopping back on the couch. When Barley doesn't leave you raise a brow in question. 
"I was just thinking…" he shuffles from one foot to the other.
You watch him with patient eyes, now a little more alert. You'd let him say what he needed, when he needed not wanting to rush him. 
"I mean… if I don't drive you home I can't kiss you goodbye…" 
His ears were a dark maroon by now and you can't keep the smile from your eyes. His sweetness, his bashfulness, just how God damn cute he was. And most of all… how much you wanted to kiss his pink tinted face. 
So you did. 
You stood, quicker than he could react, grabbed his face on either side, and brought his lips to yours. After a moment of shock Barley’s arms come around you, keeping you too him. 
You can't say for sure if the head rush you felt was from the kiss or standing too suddenly, but you chose to think it was the kiss as you give him several more little pecks before eventually breaking apart with a yawn. 
"Better?" You ask, your head falling forward to lean against his shoulder. 
Barley nods before pulling back, calling a good night to you, and hurrying to his room. 
You chuckle softly before flopping once again on the couch… there'd be time tomorrow to deal with all this… but for now… sleep was calling and the old couch was far too inviting… 
*And that’s all folks*
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spine-buster · 4 years ago
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peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | one
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A/N: Here’s the beginning of my new mini-series!  I hope you all enjoy it.  It will definitely be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, so be prepared!  There will be five parts!
SUPPORT MY WRITING HERE: https://ko-fi.com/spine_buster
CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.
                                                                   *     *     *     *     *
Brock Boeser felt like he was at some sort of Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, with everybody around the circle introducing themselves and their similar predicaments.  The group was in a big meeting room at the local community centre, and when he walked in, he saw a group of dads playing basketball in the gym.  He sort of wanted to join them instead of being here, in this room, with all these people that he didn’t know talking about what they were going to talk about, but he’d done this back in Minnesota, at his mother’s behest with his siblings, and he was going to do it here, too, in Vancouver, to make her happy and ease her mind and to make sure that he was easing his own mind.  
“Um, hello everyone.  My name is Brock Boeser.  I’m from Minnesota, but I’m living in Vancouver.  And um, I’m here with you all because my dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease.”
“Hello Brock,” everyone smiled at him, and he smiled and nodded back.
“So it was your dad that was diagnosed,” the leader, a kind, older woman named Esther who had greeted him at the door and stuck with him until everybody sat down, egged on a conversation.  He knew she was doing it because he was new; everybody in this room probably already knew each other.  A part of him actually wondered if anybody knew who he was.  “When?”
“Um, he—he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 2010,” Brock revealed, stuttering it out.  He knew he’d have to be open at these things – open so people could empathize with him, open so he could empathize with others – but it was still tough for him to do so.  “But he—it’s—it’s not just Parkinson’s.  Two years after he was diagnosed, he was in a car accident and suffered a traumatic brain injury.  In 2017, he was diagnosed with lung cancer.  He beat it but then in June it returned to his liver and chest.  In July, he had a heart attack and his heart stopped beating for 15 minutes.  I was with him and—I—it’s—it’s a lot, as you can imagine,” he tried not to start crying right then and there.  Imagine that – first meeting with a Parkinson’s Society of BC support group and he’d bawl like a baby.
“Goodness me, Brock,” Esther said.  “He has support at home?”
“Um, well, money isn’t an issue now, but when I was growing up my mom worked three jobs to make sure we were all taken care of,” he revealed.  “I’d pitch in too wherever I could, obviously.”
“But it’s been tough for a number of years.”
Brock paused.  It had been tough for a number of years.  It had been really tough for a number of years.  He nodded his head.  “Yes ma’am.  I try to take it day by day.”
Esther nodded as well.  “I don’t know if you pray, Brock, but I know a couple of members around the circle do, and, well – you’ll be kept in all our prayers.”
Brock saw a few people nod their head.  Another older woman, probably his mom’s age, clutching a rosary; a Sikh man dressed in a casual suit; a younger woman, probably in her thirties, with short blonde hair.  He appreciated the sentiment.  He knew that people took prayer very seriously – that people suffering took prayer very seriously.  It was, realistically, one of the kindest things somebody could ever say to you: “I’m praying for you.”  “Thank you very much,” he said, nodding his head once.
***
There was an arrangement of cookies at the end of the meeting.  Even after the 90 minutes of everybody talking about their experiences and emotions, they apparently liked to stick around afterwards as well just to mingle.  It didn’t all have to be doom and gloom, he thought.  It didn’t all have to be about Parkinson’s or about sick people or losing your loved ones all the time.  Maybe some people just wanted to talk about the news.  Maybe some people just wanted to talk about sports.  The weather.  Anything.  Anything to make a connection with someone beyond something so tragic.  
After stuffing an entire Fudge-O cookie into his mouth, he looked up to see a young woman staring at him, holding her trenchcoat in her arms.  She was smiling to let him know she was friendly.  He was embarrassed because he knew she just saw him stuff an entire Fudge-O into his mouth.  “Hi,” he said, his mouth still full of cookie, the sound of his voice reflecting that fact.
“You’re Brock Boeser, right?” she asked sweetly.  “You play for the Vancouver Canucks?”
“Yeah,” Brock couldn’t help but smile.  He swallowed the rest of the cookie even though he didn’t really finish chewing it.  “That’s me.  Are you a fan?”
“My step-brothers are more so than I am,” she said.  “But I’m a fan of the team, yeah.  I’m Grace Gillespie,” she extended her hand to shake his.  “God, they’re not gonna believe me when I say I met you.  They’re gonna freak.”
Brock couldn’t help but chuckle slightly.  “Do you—I mean, do you want a picture?  I don’t mind at all.  I’ll sign an autograph on a napkin if you want me to.”
“Well…it’s a bit awkward to ask you at a Parkinson’s Society of BC meeting, but we could go to the Starbucks down the street and I could buy you a coffee.”
Brock was slightly taken aback at her forwardness.  He shouldn’t have been.  Girls came up to him all the time.  All the time.  And they were most definitely not shy.  But he wasn’t exactly expecting it to happen here, of all places.  A bar, sure.  Out with Petey or any of the other guys, absolutely.  But not here.  “Yeah…yeah sure,” he stuttered out.
“Then we should go,” Grace smiled.  She turned to look behind her.  Brock saw Esther picking up a few Oreos.  “Thank you for leading another great session, Esther,” Grace said.  
“Oh you are most welcome Miss Gillespie.  How is Hamish these days?  You didn’t speak much today.”
“He’s been doing fine lately.  His caregivers have been working around the clock for him.  They just work wonders, don’t they?”
Esther nodded.  “They are angels on Earth.  Anyways – we’ll catch up next week,” she said, leaning slightly on her leg to look beyond Grace and to Brock.  “I hope to see you here again next week, Brock.”
“Thank you, Esther.  See you next week,” he said, realizing he made the commitment before he could even realize what he was saying.
***
“I take that was your first meeting?” Grace asked as she set down the two lattes on the table against the window where Brock was waiting.  
“Was it really obvious?” Brock asked.
Grace shrugged her shoulders.  She didn’t want to make him feel self-conscious.  “It was the stuttering that gave it away, at least to me.  I know I stuttered a lot the first few times I came to these meetings.  I wasn’t the most comfortable talking about my dad’s condition to a room full of virtual strangers.  But within just a few months I realized the people in that room are the kindest, most empathetic, most amazing people that I’ve ever interacted with.  So I became a lot more open.”
Brock was transfixed by every word that Grace was saying.  “So you’ve been coming here a long time,” he said.
Grace nodded.  “My dad got diagnosed with Parkinson’s when I was fourteen.  I didn’t start coming here until I was about eighteen, though.”
Brock knew he shouldn’t ask.  He knew he shouldn’t.  But his brain had ulterior motives, and his mouth – well, his mouth listened to his brain, because it apparently needed to know.  “Is your—is your dad like my dad?” he asked.  “Does he have, like, other problems complicating things?”
Grace shook her head.  “No,” she said softly.  “But the Parkinson’s is enough for him.  I mean he was diagnosed just short of ten years ago and he’s already on puréed foods.  It’s not—I mean, you know as well as I do that it doesn’t regularly develop that fast.  But that’s…I don’t know how you do it.”
Brock didn’t know either.  Some days he didn’t.  “I just take it day by day,” he said simply, just like he said in the meeting.  “If I think about it too much…that’s when it’s bad.”
“I hear ya,” Grace said, taking a sip of her coffee.  “But let’s…not talk about this for too long.  Do you like Vancouver?  Do you find it nice?”
Brock appreciated the change in topic.  “I love it here,” he nodded his head, smiling.  “The city’s great.  The fans are great.  My teammates – I mean they’re amazing.  What do you do?”
“I’m a dance teacher at Goh Ballet – little kids and teens, mostly.”
He wasn’t expecting that.  She was drop dead gorgeous, sure – Brock wasn’t blind – but he wasn’t expecting to hear she was a dancer.  “Do you, like, dance in the real ballet?”
Grace snorted slightly at his phrasing of ‘real ballet’.  “No.  I pursued it only up until a certain point.  I was good, but uh, I stopped when my dad got diagnosed.”
“Why?  Don’t they always tell people like us to have, like, an outlet or whatever?”
“They do.  But I loved my dad more than I loved dance.  And I would have rather spent the time that I was spending on dance with him instead.”
He understood where she was coming from, and he wasn’t there to judge her.  “And your brothers you mentioned, did they help too?”
“Oh no no no.  Sorry – I should have specified.  I’m an only child.  Like, the only child between my parents.  But they divorced when I was six and when my mom re-married I gained two step-brothers, Jasper and Theo.”
“How was the divorce?” Brock found himself asking.
“You ever see footage of a nuclear bomb exploding?” Grace giggled as she asked the question.  It caused Brock to laugh too even though the analogy she was making was dreadful.  “It was awful.  The type of divorce nobody deserves, you know?  I became a pawn, basically, and my parents would only speak to each other through lawyers.  Even stuff concerning me.  It was bad.”
“That sounds horrible.”
“It was.  But it’s the only life I know,” she said.  “He was lucky my mom ended up marrying another rich guy.  I mean, my mom only marries rich men,” she giggled slightly again.  “That’s how Jasper and Theo became my step-brothers.”
“So your family has money?” Brock clarified.  “What’s it from?  Dad a lawyer or something?”
“Not exactly,” Grace said.  “My dad and his brothers own a private equity firm that started like this,” she pinched her fingers together, “and went like…” she continued, spreading her fingers and moving her hands around her like a bomb explosion.  “Gillespie Brothers Investments.  I’m sure as a Vancouver Canuck you’ve heard of them.  I mean they wanted to buy the Canucks before the Aquilinis.”
Brock hadn’t heard of them, but he now knew he’d have to do some snooping when he got home. “I haven’t heard of them.  But I mean – sounds like they were successful.”
“Three billion dollars is pretty successful to me,” Grace quipped.
“B—Billion,” Brock sputtered out.  “With a B.”
“With a B,” Grace nodded.  Brock had no idea he was sitting across from the daughter of a billionaire.  She didn’t act like a billionaire.  Not like Brock knew what billionaires acted like.  He’d never met one before in his life.  Well, besides Francesco.  “But tell me more about what you like about Vancouver.  What about the nature?  I always kind of fine a good long walk along the Seawall or through Stanley Park really clears my mind from all…this.  What about you?”
Brock smiled.  “I find the white noise of downtown clears my mind.”
***
“You want my number,” Grace said as a statement rather than a question as she and Brock exited the Starbucks.  They were kicked out.  They’d been there for so long that they’d been kicked out because they were closing.  Their coffees had gotten cold.  They hadn’t ordered new ones.  And now they found themselves on the deserted sidewalk, jackets put on hastily, and Grace came up with that.
Brock looked down at her.  They’d been able to look into each other’s soul for the past few hours.  “Of course I want your number,” he said.  There was no reason to hide it.  No reason to deny it.  No reason to have to wait until next week to see her again as they sat around in a circle in a community centre talking about their parents.
He took out his phone.  She gave him her number.  He texted his name to hers so she’d have his.  When that dance was done, she looked up at him.  “I’m really glad I met you tonight,” she said, her voice sincere.
Brock nodded.  “I’m glad I met you too.  I—I really enjoyed this.  And I mean—I needed it.”
Grace smiled, nodding her head.  “I needed it too.”
“D’you—” Brock stopped, trying not to get too far ahead of himself.  “D’you need a ride home?”
“Oh no no, my driver is right there,” she motioned her head towards a black Mercedes waiting by the curb.
Brock hadn’t noticed the car until now.  “Chauffeur?”
“Billionaire dad,” she winked.  Brock understood.  She took a few steps back before smiling one more time.  “Call me,” she said, before flipping her hair over her shoulder and walking towards the Mercedes and getting into the backseat.  Brock watched as it drove off, making a right at the end of the street.
He would definitely be calling.
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bbnibini · 2 years ago
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nine: the beginning of it all**
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"I love thee with a love I seemed to loseWith my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,I shall but love thee better after death." -How do I Love Thee?, Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Lilith cried in his arms that day—asked him questions over nectar and figs; questions that Samael did not really understand but tried his best to answer. 
“Do you think a god could ever love?” she was smiling at him, but he knew her long enough to know it was anything but sincere. He let her drink that day; it only felt right to do so. Each swig of nectar came another question,
“Did Father ever have a lover?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then, how about a spouse?”
“I don’t know.”
He didn’t expect their conversation to suddenly be about gods. She knew he was one, but she also knew he was also one who stubbornly rejected that part of him. His godhood was something they both recognised but never acknowledged. On his part, he did so as he hated being put on a pedestal. He had seen how it had deteriorated El and made him accept His own bitter reality, and he didn’t want to be the same. 
“Truthfully speaking, I think gods are never meant to find a singular love.” Alcohol was making his lips loose. He did not mean to sound so negative, so he laughed it off and added, “Eternity is what would only remain with us. With so much time, loving only one person would be a burden to them, wouldn’t it? Why place those expectations on someone who would only exist in a fleeting moment?” He found it harder to say the right words to her lately without the threat of ever spilling his feelings. Was he too obvious? Would she remember their conversation as the night ends? Samael did not know—it was too late. He toasted goblets with her as he took a sip of liquored nectar, feeling the warm, cloying sweetness in his throat burning him.
“So you’re saying fleeting beings are beneath you?”
“It isn’t like that!” He wasn’t even sure where their conversation was going, or if it made any sense. Was it a weird analogy, a long-stretching diversion so she could ask him about what she really wanted to ask? His head pounded as he took another sip from his goblet. “Lilith…” he slurred, mentally berating himself for his lack of control—he should be keeping both of themselves in check. He was supposed to only let her drink, then call Lucifer once she’s had enough. But the night was young, and whatever embarrassment he was making out of himself, he would at least be assured that his little brother wouldn’t be there to see it. Thank Belfagel and Bael and Leviathan’s love of the ocean. The ocean…
He remembered Christopher reading his scrolls in the orange sun. He poured another glass.
 “If loving a human is what you wish, then you have my support.”
Lilith glared at him and took several more swigs until she had emptied a pitcher and started to drink directly from the bottle. With each bottle she emptied, he did so in kind as a way to assure her of his sincerity. “A human,” Lilith scoffed. “Samael…”
“Y-yes?” 
She turned her eyes at him, her doll-like gaze sloshing her bottle as she held back a hiccup; she pretended to take a sip, only for her to miss, spilling her drink on soft, Abyssal soil. Samael felt her head resting against his shoulder, and he bent down so she could do so more comfortably. He must have been drunk too; he didn’t know if it was his head pounding or his heart, but he heard her laughter, his shoulder wet as she muttered to him something he didn’t understand.
“You’re s…!” She said again, taking another sip.  She hit his chest with her fists and shouted incomprehensible gibberish. “I have al…you!” It did not hurt. Samael closed his eyes and tried to level his vision. But the starless sky only felt like a blur, and the words she said felt farther and farther away. 
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“Samael.”
He felt himself swallow some water—and his vision was back again. When he opened his eyes, he saw Lucifer stroking Lilith’s head as she rested on his lap. His outer coat covered her body to keep her warm. 
“Feeling better? You must be sporting a headache.”
He did drink too much with her.  When he tried to get up from where he was resting, he felt a million boulders and sharp spikes drilling in his head. He winced and bit his lip; his blue eyes zeroed in on Lucifer’s gloved hand holding out a bottle which he gratefully accepted.
“Elixir for your crapulence.”
“Thank you,” It tasted a punishing bitter, cooling his throat that burned from the liquor, tempering his headache. He heard Lucifer sigh from beside him, finally speaking.
“Is there a reason why my sister is passed out drunk?”
Samael flinched and couldn’t look his way. “I’m sorry.”
“Not even an excuse?”
The First Angel shook his head, which caused the Morning Star to laugh lightly. 
“Even if I ask, I know you won’t tell me.” Lucifer’s voice sounded more solemn than usual. In fact, the First Angel couldn’t help but think that it had been that way more and more as time passed by. “Both of you always felt like you were in your own little world and no one could ever separate you.”
"You're exaggerating," he said through his teeth, each syllable of attempted jest grating his ears like Lotan in her tempestuous moods in the middle of the deepest evernight. He was thankful for the dark, as he couldn't trust himself to smile through each lie.
Why…why would he say that now? And why with such a serene expression on his face? Does he not know? Of course, he doesn’t. If he did, he would have been opposed to it. He clenched his fists as he answered the morningstar.
“She is my most precious friend.” 
Lucifer grimaced, looking as if he had ingested something terrible. 
“A precious friend...” The morningstar had an unreadable expression on his face as he turned his head at him. Whatever he wanted to say wasn't said, and was instead replaced by an entirely new topic. “Thank you for taking care of my sister. Knowing you are there for her puts me at ease.”
Samael shook his head. It wasn’t sarcasm, but it still couldn’t help but feel like a backhanded compliment...which was ironic given the state he found the both of them in. “If anything, it would have been me who needed to thank her,” he answered. “If I never met her…I wouldn’t have the courage to forgive myself and live amongst all of you again.” To him, Lilith was his saviour. She treasured him as her best friend despite her initial fears, and stood by his side and believed in him when he couldn’t even believe in himself. “...I wouldn’t be who I am now without her.”
And even then…she was so much more. So much more that every definition of her changes with every person he spoke with. To angels, she was the same mischievous Lilith who was the source of Lucifer's headaches, and the same bright student Azrael boasted about in his dinners with the seraphim. She was the loving sister that Lucifer secretly spoils, and otherwise openly spoiled by the affectionate Asmo. She was the confidante to the awkward Sachiel, and the missing piece to the inseparable Bael and Belfagel whom she confessed were the closest brothers to her.
To El, Lilith was special—she was someone whom He said had stirred something in Samael that made him barely recognisable. She made him a different person, but he would like to argue. Lilith didn't change him—-rather, she made him discover parts of him he had not known before but had always been what made him him .
And recently, to a certain human…he was told, with all fleeting mortal worldliness, that Lilith, to him...was love. She was everything that mattered —every precious moment in his eternity. She was the air lost in his lungs, the garden in his heart—the light in his darkness, and the songs in the Dianthus fields. 
Lilith isn't the peaceful love he preserved with his angelic friends or the certain love he felt for his own family; it was all-consuming, sometimes selfish and ugly, despite his best intentions. She was love ill-befitting of a supposed impartial Being. Almost forbidden. 
Yet even then, he felt like it wasn't enough to describe her entirely. He opened his mouth, barely defining the impact of her existence on him, "Lilith is…wonderful."
The corner of Lucifer’s lips curved up at his words. “I see…and Samael?”
He looked over at the raven-haired angel. “What is it, Lucifer?”
“Apologies are not enough to say how really sorry I am but, I hope you will continue getting along with my sister after this. I won’t interfere anymore.”
But just because he loved her didn't mean that the love he felt for Lucifer and his other friends meant any less(thank goodness for private thoughts—Lucifer hearing them would have been embarrassing).
“You’re just as close of a friend as she is to me. Please don’t ever say you’re interfering.”
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Lucifer sighed beside him, clearing his throat in realisation. "Samael, with all due respect, I feel like we aren't talking about the same thing."
Samael blinked his eyes, not understanding. “What do you mean?”
Lucifer coughed again. “If you will excuse me, I must take her back now.”
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Had everything really gone back to normal between them? Lilith was her usual smiling self, sharing with him stories and laughter and tears—but Samael couldn’t help but think that something between them had changed. He could still feel her lingering gazes sometimes, only that…she wasn’t avoiding him anymore. She talked more openly about Christopher, sang songs with him, and on days when they were alone, they would gaze at the Sea together, tipsy with aged nectar and the sound of waves crashing.
There were many times he was lulled to sleep by her comforting company, but in his dreams, he heard her voice. In the ocean waves, she whispered, kicked bottles and threw seashells, made ripples in the Sea,
“I should….f….get….ut….y…u”
It was not a dream. He was half asleep—he squinted his eyes, trying to find where she was; and when he finds her, she was emerald eyes and a few breaths away. She pressed their foreheads together and whispered again.
“...lly…cruel…”
“Lilith?”
She jumped back, her face still a blur. He couldn’t make sense of what she said. He closed his eyes, dreaming again. Lilith sighed in relief, and he could feel her hand touching his cheek.
“...this is the last time….Sa…el…
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…I……v…e…”
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“Simeon, it’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too, Christopher.”
…Christopher wasn’t getting any better. Each day that passes, Samael could feel his death coming closer. It was the other secret they had left unspoken—a looming truth they both knew impending. If he could protect their happiness in the small window of time Christopher had left, he would do so and would do so again in a heartbeat.
Simeon and Lily would remain strangers—it was what he suggested to Lilith in consideration of Christopher. He was far too ill for complicated situations. The human to both of them was a precious friend (to Lilith, even more), so they agreed to never meet in their human forms. 
It made him happy to see Lilith openly talk to him about Christopher. There was a gentleness to her eyes and calm contentedness as he heard of the days they spent with each other. Of how he made her smile with his cheesy poems and bad jokes. Of how cheerful and carefree he was—his sweet nicknames whispered in the moonlight. The first kiss they shared and the promises they made by the cliffside. Of how blessed she felt that Christopher gave him a happy reason to look back to her old friend's favourite place—of how sad memories wouldn't be the only thing she can remember it by anymore.
But he also noticed the quivering of her lips, the sadness in her tone as she said, "I'll see him again tomorrow," knowing that tomorrow may not even come, and the time she had with the human was running out.
He was thankful that she didn't know the Christopher that Simeon gets to see—fearful, guarded and melancholy.
"I don't want to die…" He would cling to his shirt and cover his blood-stained coughs. "...Simeon…I'm scared…"
“....”
“What would happen to Lily?” his soft brown eyes were swollen from crying. He would tug at Simeon’s shirt and shake his head when he would reach for his medication.
“No, I’m fine…I’m fine…” 
And he would tell him of his plans together with her when he gets well—a reality the three of them knew would never be coming. Even an Angel of Death couldn’t do anything to change death. If only he could. 
If only he did.
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"Simeon"stared at the boulders hit by the ocean waves for a very long time---he found it…harrowing to fly back to Heaven after putting Christopher to sleep. He looked at his hands, so strikingly different from the claws and talons he was used to in his true form. 
An Angel of Death who is helpless with Death. A god with no role or Kingdom of his own. He exists outside of Heaven’s hierarchy and is an outsider not meant to tamper with El’s and His children’s affairs.
Even so…
Isn't there anything he could do?
"Samael."
!!!
"Simeon"jolted from his seat, trying to find the androgynous voice that called for his true name. When he finally spotted him, he saw a breathtakingly beautiful young man with a timeless disposition. There was a distant smile on his face as his long, midnight hair swayed in the ocean breeze.
"There’s no need to be alarmed. I am honoured to finally meet you,”
 It was a similar feeling he felt when he met Leviathan in the centre of the ocean. The young man who called him by his name was like him—but also, oddly different. Not like Leviathan, nor like El either. 
 “Who are you?” He took a step back, gauging the young man’s movements and if he would be a potential enemy, but the worldliness of his gaze and its disquieting serenity only laughed at the sight of his tenseness. 
“Are you sure you’re ready to know?” …and mocked him even further by not answering his question.
 “...”
 “You must have a lot of questions. But…I assure you, it wouldn’t matter. Ah well. Let me humour you anyway. . . . . . I am not a god. I will never let myself be. But…you can say that I am your equal.”
“!!!”
“Unfortunately, that’s the end of my generosity. It’s time for you to answer my question. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . …you seem to have a wish, along with a knack for words.  . .. . . . . . . . .. . . . . Samael, Angel of Death… . . . . . . . . . . . . Have you ever written a story before?”
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"It was inevitable. Even without me, he would eventually take that path."
"...I know that now."
"Hah! Now we're finally even."
"For someone who's not a god, you do have the disposition of one."
Scaramouche didn't know if he should take his companion's words as a compliment or an insult, so he only laughed, shrugged his comment off, and continued writing.
🌼masterlist
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pumpkinpaix · 4 years ago
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Hey, something I’ve been wondering since I first watched CQL: in ep 5, there’s a line where Wen Qing is talking to Wen Ning and says something like ‘Our family has been doctors for centuries, but I can’t cure my own brother’ (that’s verbatim from the US Netflix subtitles) and I’ve always wondered about that word, ‘cure’. As someone who lives with mental illness, I’m a little sensitive to the idea of a mental affliction being ‘cured,’ as though it’s a malady to be remedied, as though there’s something ‘wrong’ that can be ‘fixed’. The word ‘cure’ brings up all that discomfort for me, but I only know English, and I’m curious to know how accurate the concept of a ‘cure’ is to the actual conversation taking place there? I think a lot about the way neurodivergence is discussed in CQL, and I don’t want to misjudge connotation based on translation error.
hi there! so this ask is *checks* a month old yikes, but i’ve been thinking about it for a long time so here we go (finally)! :D
so here’s the scene in question:
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[ID: two screenshots from episode 5 of the untamed. wen qing is speaking to wen ning. the subtitles read ‘我却治不了自己弟弟的病’ and ‘but i can’t cure my own brother’. /end ID]
with regards to your grammar/language question: 治 can mean both “to treat” and “to cure”. there are certain sentence constructions that can make it clear which it is, but not all of them do so.
for example, 治好 is definitely ‘to cure’ - the grammar there is [VERB + 好] can mean either “to finish VERBing” or “to VERB well”. so, to finish treating = to cure.
however, in this case, that’s not the construction that’s being used, and I would say it’s not clear-cut. “VERB + 不了” is “to be unable to VERB”. because 治 is ambiguous on its own, what she says here, “我却治不了自己弟弟的病”, comes down to “but I am unable to treat/cure my own younger brother’s illness”.
what I think is maybe a more complicated issue is the idea of mental illness and/or neurodivergence in CQL and how understandings of it impact our perceptions of the characters/narrative.
I’ve seen a lot of interpretations of Wen Ning’s affliction in CQL to be neurodivergence, but I’m actually quite surprised when I hear this. i believe the illness wen qing and wei wuxian refer to when talking about wen ning is his susceptibility/weakness towards resentful/yin energy, which manifests in fainting spells and long bouts of unconsciousness. to me, that is not analogous to mental illness or neurodivergence so much as something like epileptic episodes brought on by exposure to specific triggers. by CQL canon, we know that he has not always had this -- he contracted the illness after his encounter with the guanyin statue that sucked away part of his soul when he was a child, and this now gives him a weak constitution and makes him largely unsuitable for night hunting, especially unsupervised. this is what wen qing is trying to treat and/or cure. in mdzs, he does not have this condition, and wen qing never mentions anything about trying to treat or cure him at all.
given that this condition is most likely a creation for the sake of getting around censors at least in part (basically: a way to create a reason for why wen ning isn’t “dead” -- in addition, probably was also meant to increase wen sibs screentime/sympathy), I’ve always seen it as a bit of a handwavy physical condition that was tacked on as opposed to an actual statement about his character, if that makes sense.
in general, I’m hesitant to outright assign labels of neurodivergence or mental illness to mdzs/cql characters because I think that labels like that are inherently societally and culturally dependent. with the rise of identity politic rhetoric in the US and all of that kind of getting tangled up with our conceptions of being ND or mentally ill, I worry about trying to analyze mdzs/cql through such a lens because identities are so inextricably tied to environment. even if both i and a character could be “diagnosed” with the same condition, I think it would be undeniable that our experiences of such would be very different because we come from different cultural backgrounds. not just, chinese author vs american reader but like, fantastical xianxia chinese conception of a character vs chinese-american conception of identity.
alskdjfl idk if this even makes sense, but!! basically, I actually don’t think that CQL discusses or really portrays neurodivergence at all, not in such terms. I think it’s completely appropriate and valid to headcanon and interpret characters in ways that resonate with you! i certainly do, lol (morally scrupulous twin jades anyone? :D 🥃), but im nervous about asserting that any CQL characters actually are/have xyz condition because I don’t think that a discussion on that front is particularly meaningful. I know that this hesitance comes both from my own views on what neurodivergence/mental illness mean and how useful those terms actually are, and also from a very personal anger over some moral injunctions that I’ve seen people place on portraying characters’ “real” or “coded” mental states that are seriously misguided, harmful, and extremely culturally american in their claims (that will probably be a separate post though lol).
that isn’t to say there isn’t value in thinking about how one can interpret characters in one way or another, or that there isn’t value in discussing how unintentionally, a character might fall into archetypes that evoke certain identities and how that subtext might or might not impact a person’s experience or takeaway from the media! but I think all of that has to be contextualized as opposed to generalized. /o\
this.... came out a lot less coherent than i wanted it to be, but my brain is Not having it for some reason. I hope that I at least managed to answer your question/help you along in your continuing thought process!!! :D
(ko-fi)
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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years ago
Text
Teenagers Part 7
Harry Potter Marauders Era 
Link to Part 6 
Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 
Rating: M 
_______
The next morning, Sirius sat in a tea shop that was off of the beaten path of most people. He stirred the cup of steaming liquid in front of him as he anxiously tapped his foot. When the bell about the door jingled, Sirius looked up as Regulus stepped in. His brother was clearly looking over his shoulder for any of their family members. Agreeing to meet up like this was dangerous...for both brothers.
Sirius internally rolled his eyes. He wished that things didn’t have to be this way. If Sirius wanted to talk to his brother then he should be able to. He was in astonishment that Regulus even agreed to meet him in the first place. The relationship between Sirius and Regulus had been “tense” since Sirius packed his crap and ran to the Potters. Regulus would rarely speak to Sirius at school as it was. Sirius had a feeling that the only reason Regulus agreed to meet him today was the younger brother knew that this conversation had something to do with you.
Regulus sat down across from Sirius silently. Neither spoke as the witch that owned the place came over to take Regulus’ order. Sirius sat quietly as Regulus took off his jacket and placed his hands on the table. Regulus’ attention had fallen on a group of older women who were eyeing both Regulus and Sirius hopefully.
In your dreams…
Regulus thought with an eye roll. He was used to the staring. Any time that he or Sirius went somewhere some member of the opposite sex was drooling over them.
“You’re getting a lot of looks from women now.”
Sirius commented. He couldn’t help but be proud of his little brother. The young man was finally coming into his “good looks” and getting the attention that Sirius had been getting for years. Sirius wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if one of the older women in the corner wanted nothing more than to “take care” of his younger brother. With those intense eyes, perfectly sculpted face, and a headful of curls Regulus probably captured many women’s hearts...but none of them would matter. Sirius knew this. Regulus’ eyes were only on one person. If one of these women tried to flirt with him, Sirius had a feeling that Regulus would tell them to bugger off. Teasing them was one thing but intentionally flirting with them when Regulus knew that he had you in his life was another.
Regulus rolled his eyes again.
“They don’t matter to me. Y/n is the only one that I care about.”
Sirius smirked.
“Blow one of them a kiss. They will probably fall out of their chairs.”
Regulus shook his head.
“I’m not here to watch you nor flirt with tea shop tramps. Why did you want to see me?”
Sirius nodded, finally accepting that he wasn’t going to get a smile out of his younger brother. It was probably best to get down to business.
“I need to talk to you about Y/n.”
“Yes. If you are going to tell me that I need to break up with her then you are wasting your time. Furthermore, you can tell James Potter to grow a pair and get over it. He needs to be a better older brother to Y/n. The way that he does her is disgusting. He is honestly lucky that I haven’t tried to kick his ass. If he keeps on hurting her, I may not be so kind. I know how she feels and I will not let her go through the same heartache that I have had to.”
Sirius winced. The little dig at him hit home, just as Regulus wanted it to. Regulus didn’t have to say that Sirius was a crap older brother for Sirius to get his brother’s point. Sirius swallowed back his own want to tell Regulus to shut the fuck up.
I have tried. You ignore me! Anytime that I try to patch things up, you run away to your Slytherin friends. That you. Not me!
The comment was so close to coming out of Sirius’ mouth but he wasn’t here today about himself. This was about you.
“I’ll talk to James. He’s just scared. Y/n is his only sister. She’s a special girl not just to James and I but her whole family.”
Regulus frowned.
“You don’t think that I don’t value her?”
Sirius shook his head.
“I didn’t say that. Reg, I know that you value her. Personally, I know you very well. You don’t do anything unless you have it planned out on a pad of paper. I don’t think that you would be wearing a woman’s locket if she didn’t mean something to you. What I’m telling you is you have to keep her safe from the cult.”
“The cult?”
Regulus questioned, earning a scowl from his older brother.
“Our family, idiot! Like it or not, Regulus, our family is a cult and you’re drinking the kool-aid.”
Regulus raised an eyebrow.
“I guess that you would know. Furthermore, what is Kool-Aid and what does that have to do with anything?”
Sirius put a hand over his face.
“Bad analogy. Look, just keep her safe.”
Regulus crossed his arms over his chest feeling a bit insulted. Did Sirius really think that he would let anything happen to you? Regulus wasn’t going to be leaving your side throughout the whole party and if he did, he would make sure Narcissa or his mother was beside you. If worse came to worse, he would have Kreacher keep an eye on you.
“I won’t let anything happen to her. Merlin, Sirius, you act as if I am going to let them cook and eat her.”
Sirius’ normally happy expression that he wore all of the time was dark and grim. Had Regulus not been insulted he may be a bit more sympathetic to his brother’s position. Sirius, was after all, only trying to protect you and that was commendable enough.
“Keep her safe from yourself too.”
Sirius added. Regulus raised an eyebrow.
“Excuse me?”
Sirius sighed.
“Regulus, you're my brother and I love you but we both know how you can be when our family is involved. You fall right into line with the rest of them.”
Regulus stood up with a cold glare.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
Regulus didn’t give Sirius a chance to reply before grabbing his jacket and storming out of the shop. Sirius groaned. His master plan of trying to fix things totally went down in a puff of smoke.
Standing, he decided that it was best to just get back to the Potter’s family home and spend the rest of the day with his best friend.
“Excuse me?”
Sirius looked up when one of the older women that had been eyeing both Sirius and Regulus spoke.
“Yes?”
The woman blushed.
“We just wanted to say that your brother and yourself are adorable.”
Sirius normally would have played right along. Today he was in no mood and wanted nothing more than to whine to James.
“Trust me, you don’t want any of this crazy.”
Sirius replied before walking out in the opposite direction that Regulus had gone in.
(a few hours later)
You sat in front of your mother’s vanity mirror as she fixed your hair and Lily did your makeup. The morning had been spent finding a dress for the party and now here you were being their own personal doll.
“You picked out a beautiful dress, Y/n.”
Lily said with a pleased smile. Your mother nodded, in agreement.
“It was the first one that she tried on. I think the black lace is lovely.”
You were pleased with the gown that you had chosen even if James made the snide comment of…
“If she marries him that’s all that she will be wearing.”
To your shock, Sirius was the one that stood up for you there. He gave James a displeased expression and asked James to stop. Of course, James immediately shut up since it was Sirius that asked.
You couldn’t help but frown thinking about your brother and how awful that your relationship had become since you began dating Regulus. Could James not be happy for you? You had your first boyfriend that you were actually in love with. Regulus was good to you in return...could that not be enough?
Apparently not.
Lily speaking, pulled you from your thoughts.
“I think Regulus is here to get you, Y/n.”
Walking downstairs, you saw the sight that you expected to see. James sat on the couch ignoring Regulus like a toddler would someone that they were mad at. Sirius sat in between James and Regulus, probably to stop the two from beating the crap out of each other. You made a mental note to thank Sirius later.
Sirius was at least starting to change his views on you dating his younger brother. He had apologized earlier that morning for being a git about the whole thing and if you were happy then he was happy for you. There was also the promise to beat the crap out of Regulus if he did something to hurt you followed by a huge “Sirius Black” smile. Of course, you couldn’t be angry with him after that.
You didn’t expect Sirius to give you a ton of excuses on why he was so angry in the first place...you knew. Sirius was worried about your safety. That went without saying but that didn’t mean that he had to treat you so crappy over the past few months. His genuine apology early that day smoothed that particular hurt over.
Regulus stood up the moment that you walked in. He looked perfect as always. You made a mental note to thank Walburga for driving him crazy over the suit that he was wearing. It made everything about him look ten times better.
“You look beautiful.”
He said before gently kissing your forehead. As much as Regulus wanted to pull you into some long sultry kiss, he decided to wait. It would be funny as hell to watch the expression on James’ face but Regulus didn’t want to get on Fleamont or Euphemia’s bad side. Snogging their daughter right in front of them was probably a bad place to start any kind of potential feelings.
“Thanks. I see why your mother was driving you crazy over the suit. It looks great.”
Regulus smirked.
“You don’t live with her. We should be going.”
Sirius quickly looked up from his place on the couch.
“Watch out for the elf, he bites.”
Regulus turned to his brother with an annoyed expression as he wrapped his hand through yours.
“He bites you because you get on his nerves.”
Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment. Regulus was probably right on that one. He definitely didn’t do many nice things for Kreacher when he lived at home. Sirius loved to annoy the elf and he was good at it. Regulus, however, treated him like some kind of cutsie pet. It was no wonder that Kreacher always preferred Regulus over Sirius.
“Good point. If mum tries to give you Kool-aid, don’t drink it.”
It took all that that Sirius had to not cackle at the expression on your face and the annoyed expression on his brother’s face.
“What are you talking about?”
You asked Sirius. Regulus wrapped his arm around your waist.
“Don’t even ask. He said that same thing to me earlier. I think it's just him talking. We both know how my brother is.”
As you turned to follow Regulus to the door, James jumped up. He had spent the evening feeling guilty over how he had been doing you. James tried to justify it by saying “I want to keep her safe” but even that was failing him. He had been a cold-ass to you and you honestly didn't deserve it for falling in love. You didn’t get upset when he started dating Lily. In fact, you were supportive. Maybe James needed to back off and let you live your own life?
I’ll always be there to pick up the pieces no matter who the lover is…
James meant it too. He didn’t care if the lover was Regulus Black or some other guy...James was your brother and he would take care of you until he was dead.
“Y/n, wait!”
James called as he slid into the foyer. You were halfway out the door as you turned to face your older brother.
“Yes?”
You replied, surprised to see James standing there looking at you with apologetic eyes.
“Be careful.”
James’ comment was simple but the expression on his face oozed sincerity. You smiled.
“I will.”
When you turned your back, you didn’t see the cold expression that James shot at Regulus. His face clearly said,
“If she gets hurt, I am coming after you!”
Regulus fought the urge to chuckle. He turned without an expression in James' direction and followed you outside.
Arriving at 12 Grimmauld Place, Regulus stopped you before he moved to open the door. He looked down at you with those sultry eyes that made your heart pound.
“I haven’t seen you in some time, you know. I’ve missed you.”
You stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. Regulus wrapped his arms around your waist to preserve the contact. He didn’t care if there was the very real possibility that one of his bloody relatives could open the door and witness the two of you about to snog. They could stand and watch for all Regulus cared. Regulus had spent the good bit of the past week wanting nothing more than to have your body against his.
“I bet I have missed you more. I’ve been trapped in this house with my parents wanting nothing more than to be with you. You mentioned that your mum put you on muggle birth control?”
You nodded as Regulus titled your head to the side and nuzzled his face against your skin.
“She did. I guess she figured that we were doing things.”
“Well, she isn’t wrong.”
Regulus commented.
“Do you think that we will be able to disappear for a bit?”
You asked. Regulus nodded.
“Easily. My mum will be busy being a show-off. She wouldn’t notice if we disappeared. How about a little preview of what we will be doing later?”
You didn’t have time to respond as Regulus pulled you into a deep hungry kiss. Neither of you was paying the least bit of attention to anything going on around you nor did you notice Bellatrix and Narcissa in the window watching with surprised expressions on their faces.
Both women had been made aware of their cousin finally finding a halfway decent pureblood girl (even if she really wasn’t up to “family” standards) but seeing him snogging on the front steps was a huge shock.
Bellatrix turned to her sister with a grin.
“This will be fun.”
_________
@amelie-black @truly-insatiable @fandomsxxregulus @regulusheadcanons @realgaytrash @hazncalsgal @quuenofblacks @whymyparentscheckmyphone @lucasfilms77 @criminalyetminimal @teletubiswszpilkach @jessyballet @knreidy1 @acciosiriusblack @mimisparkle12 @fific7 @rubyroscoe1 @bennyberry @spiderxalmighty @exhsle @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @fandom-trash-worth-it @hankypranky @summer-novak @shaylybaby2032 @emiwrites3reads @li0nh34rt @tas898 @stuckinsaudi1 @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @untoldshortsofthefandoms @marichromatic @sprnaturallover @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner
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dasaniperson · 4 years ago
Text
So I had this idea where Scout actually knows Spy is his father during that infamous death scene. Then I wrote a short five about it
———————————————————————
Scout knew he was dying. The pain from his wound was numb by now, but the puddle of blood below him kept growing and he was just so tired.
It was a lot different than he expected, actually. He thought dying would be confusing and fast, like a dream, but instead he was calm. It wasn’t the happy kind of calm, nor the sad kind. It was just… blank. Everything was so perfectly quiet.
His perfect silence was interrupted by the sound of dress shoes clacking, another set of footsteps, this time without any shoes, and a voice.
“— own by monk tailors since the seventh century.” It was Spy talking. He kind of hoped that he’d just pass by him. “ I will let you use it as an adult diaper when you pry it off my cold,” He could see the edge of Spy's shoulder coming around the corner. “dead,” he was all the way around the corner, but faced back towards whoever was with him. “body.” The last word was cut short as Spy saw him. Sniper peaked around the corner and his face fell. Spy just kind of looked… surprised.
“Mate.” Sniper said to Spy. Spy sighed and put his face in his hand, looking exasperated. It didn’t surprise him. Spy barely seemed to respect him as a person, much less someone to grieve. Spy should feel something though, at least as a father. “Yes. I know.” There’s no sympathy in his tone, it’s the same voice he uses during work. “Give us a moment.” Is he really going to die with Spy? Maybe he should be happy to die with his father, most people would take this as a last minute blessing from the heavens. Then again, he hasn’t believed in god since he got his dog tags.
Spy makes his way over to him and crouches down. He shoves one hand into his pocket, the other clutching a wood plank. Upon closer inspection his knee has a splash of blood on it. “Scout. There’s something I need to tell you.” Is he finally going to confess to being his father? Scout’s known for a good four years now, and he got over it all quickly enough, it’s not like Spy ever tried to make anything of their relationship. Still, Scout can’t help but be curious as to why or how any of it happened. His eyes flick away from him. “I…” Spy has a chance right now to begin to redeem himself in Scout’s eyes.
“I’ll be right back.”
For a second Scout can’t believe it. But then he’s blazing with anger. Of course. Of course Spy would leave him to die. Of course Spy wouldn’t take the last opportunity he’ll ever have to make up with his son. Of course. It’s Spy after all. Why is he so mad? He knew it would end like this.
Maybe he’s mad because Spy gave him hope then ripped it away immediately. Or maybe it’s because Spy disappointed him again, but no, it’s not any of those. It’s because he expected it. He expected Spy to leave him. He knew Spy wouldn’t even try to look sad for his sake. His anger gives way to sadness. Then Tom Jones comes around the corner.
At first Scout thinks it’s his brain playing tricks on him. There’s no way Tom Jones is here of all places. He looked too perfect to be here, exactly how Scout imagined him, except this Tom Jones has a wooden board tucked under his arm. Just like Spy, minus the pink coloration and giant letters on it. Ah. That should probably have been obvious from the beginning. Spy walks over.
“What’s new, pussycat?” Scout almost wants to laugh over the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, but he can’t find the strength. Why is Spy disguising himself as Tom Jones of all people? Sure scout looks up to him and all, but only as a musician, never on a personal level. If Spy thinks that this is what would make Scout happy, then he really is blind.
He crouches down again. “Scout… do you know my hit song, Sex Bomb?” What is Spy saying? Bringing up Sex Bomb right now? Nevertheless, Scout nods slightly, going along with whatever Spy is leading up to. “Scout, twenty seven years ago I dropped a ‘Sex Bomb’ on your mother.” So Spy’s really going there, huh? “I was young then, and I ran from the explosion.” That’s his excuse then. He was young. Maybe Scout can understand that. But he never came back. Even when he met Spy again when he was hired at only seventeen, Spy still didn’t even try. “But now the fallout of that Sex Bomb has caught up with me.” Is that all he is to Spy? An accident caused by his own foolishness? “This is where the analogy starts to break down, so if it’s alright with you I’ll retire the Sex Bomb metaphor now.”
But then he sees it. And maybe it’s just because Tom Jones’s face is infinitely more expressive than Spy’s, but he looks… sad. He’s got this downtrodden look to him. Spy reaches a hand forward and onto Scout’s shoulder “You’re stronger than you’ll ever know, Jeremy.”
Jeremy. Spy used his real name. Jeremy had actually thought he didn’t know it for a while. Then Spy’s words sink in. Did Spy really think Jeremy was strong? He’d never even hinted at so much as liking Jeremy. As likely as it was that Spy was lying, Jeremy couldn’t quite find it in himself to think that.
“I’m proud of you.” Proud? He didn’t know what Spy had to be proud of. “I’ve always been proud of you.” Always? Why had he never shown it then? “Son.”
Son? He had given up that chance a long time ago, when he abandoned him. When he never told him that he was his dad. When he put on that godforsaken Tom Jones disguise. He couldn’t come back and take the title of father at the last second, and to be honest? Scout hadn’t needed a father in years. Spy had made the choice not to raise him when he had the chance, and now Jeremy’s twenty seven, he’s an adult. An adult that grew up a long time ago, nothing’s going to change that now.
So as he looks up at Tom Jones’s eyes he actually wishes that they were Spy's for once. At least then he could have proven to Jeremy that he wasn’t a complete wimp.
Jeremy knows he has to say something, he won’t let Spy live with the fact that he hid behind a mask during his child’s final moments. Jeremy sighs, and he knows that it’s his final breath. And he utters one word
“Coward”
And then he was gone.
————
“Hey Henry?” He looked up at his oldest brother. “Yeah?” Henry looked down at him, smiling. “How’re you always so brave?” It was true. Henry never seemed to fear anything. He would face kids twice his size without hesitation if they were doing something mean. “It ain’t bravery kid, it’s just that I gotta do something when I see bad stuff goin’ on” That didn’t make any sense. How could Henry not be brave? “I don’t understand” Henry had told him to ask when he didn’t get what he was saying. “Well kid, if there’s something you don’t like, you gotta change it, and you can’t do that by doing nothing,” Jeremy supposed that made sense, but Henry was still brave, no matter what he said.
“If there’s something you don’t like, you gotta change it,”
And then he was back.
————
He was back in that blood spattered hallway, surrounded by broken to bits robots. And holy fuck ow his wound was definitely still there and so were Spy and Sniper, who was naked for some reason. They were both walking away, unaware that he was alive. He tried to call out, but all that came out was a weak cough. Sniper turned around first “Well, I’ll be…” then Spy turned around. He said nothing but pure relief on his face. Maybe he did care. Spy hobbled over to him and lifted him up off the floor. Holding one of Scout’s arms over his shoulder for support. He nodded slightly to Sniper, who turned around and headed back down the way they had been going. “So, you figured it out.” Spy spoke suddenly, obviously referring to his fatherhood “Yeah,” he didn’t really have the energy to give a long winded response. “When did you figure it out?” “Four years ago.” He answers honestly. It may have been easier to lie and say it was only at the very end when he figured out. It may have saved them all a lot of explaining “and you never told me you knew?” It was a fair inquiry, but Scout didn’t have any one solid answer to that, “never came up.” Spy rolls his eyes at the lackluster answer. “We’re going to be talking about this later.” He had known that was going to happen. Neither of them were in any state to have a heart to heart conversation about feelings right now. Scout hummed slightly in agreement.
Scout was still mad at Spy, but when someone holds you as you die, you tend to feel a bit more understanding towards them. He was going to let this play out. He doubted they would ever truly become father and son this far along in a not so friendly relationship, but he was willing to give Spy a chance to at least be a decent friend.
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nileqt87 · 3 years ago
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How I’d write a Buffy/Angel spinoff!
I still say the best spinoff they could possibly ever make would be all the Chosen Slayers getting deactivated, then Buffy and a Shanshu'd Angel (IMO, this plot really would only work with Angel, because it actually matches his story arc, not Spike's, to want a human life and fatherhood) have a daughter who grows up not knowing the truth about her parents (and half-brother!) until it's forced to come out.
I would particularly note that the first thing that happens to newly-called Slayers is their prophetic dreams. If ever there was a way to start breaking secrets to this new heroine that also serves as flashback exposition featuring the old shows, this seems custom-built for it. It’s exposition for the audience that never saw the old shows as well as an introduction to a key Slayer ability, but most importantly, it’s personal family revelations that go far deeper than historical flashbacks of unrelated persons or monsters that mean nothing personal. These would be scandalous secrets for a baby Slayer, given Buffy was the rule-breaking Slayer who is most famous for having romantic relationships with the very creatures she’s supposed to slay. Angelus would be the worst family secret of all! This story has all the makings of an existential crisis before acceptance. That would also be a good place to drop in Connor’s history. Buffy never actually got to react to that bombshell either, so that would be an interesting drama with her, as well. Buffy and Angel both tended to feature heavily in prophetic dreams, so it also just feels right to continue that.
If there's some reason why David Boreanaz (who, let's face it, is really not getting younger and SEAL Team can't go on forever) can't or is unwilling to appear, one could have an explanation that Wolfram & Hart has had him trapped in a holding dimension for years as punishment.
You could even build an arc around that with Buffy or the daughter trying to find him. Basically, a kind way of explaining Angel's absence if necessary and Buffy unfortunately having to mirror her single mother (which was a fear of hers), despite it being no fault of Angel's. It would be yet more cruelty for him to miss out on yet another child growing up, which would be a dramatic plot point itself. It could actually become a story where he does matter quite a lot, despite initial absence or mystery.
An even bigger shock than mom having Slayer superpowers and a world full of supernatural forces would be a reveal that dad is a 394+-year-old (depends on if you count hell--in a modern-day spinoff, Angel is rapidly approaching 400 years!) ex-vampire.
The most interesting and fitting story you could ever do with a maturing Buffy would be having her be a mother and trying to have a normal life.
This would also give Sarah Michelle Gellar a starring role that allows her to be age-appropriate, yet also having a younger generation that the original audience can still care about because she isn't completely divorced from the two previous shows in the way that an unrelated Slayer spinoff would be. It allows the core storylines of *both* shows to truly matter, far more than a Buffy Steele-Gunn offspring would.
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Just a a few notes about my pitch for a continuation that works with the real ages of actors and their availability... I should also note that Xander (played by Nick, anyway--Kelly might work for a flashback) is a character who could never appear in live-action again, so maybe he could be used as another event that contributed to Buffy's retirement besides pregnancy.
If the Shanshu and conception were directly post-NFA, any offspring would be 16 years old right now. IMO, if there were any plans to give SMG a series with her in a major supporting role, this just means that the space for how long between NFA and the Shanshu or how long Bangel got to be with each other widens for however many years it would take to revive the franchise.
I strongly believe that the best option for the franchise would be a back-to-the-suburbs story exploring age-appropriate Buffy facing motherhood, rather than trying to turn Buffy into a war general surrounded by nothing but subordinates (horribly alienating future for her) with a lack of equals or a grounded setting à la the season 8 comics. If you want to introduce the Buffyverse to a new audience whom you can't expect to watch 24-year-old shows until they're interested enough by the revival, you're going to have to ground characters in a relatable reality.
As for how a new Slayer would be called after deactivation, I firmly believe the line is through Faith now anyway, so it would just take her dying for a minute à la Prophecy Girl for a new Slayer to be called. I would definitely want Faith in the show!
--- Facebook discussion
I feel like SMG's concern was less wanting to reprise the role entirely, but more concern that she'd be expected to play the same exact role in her 40s. This is giving her a role that fits a woman (and a mother in real life) who is in her 40s and is a major supporting role rather than he young lead whose story is being centered on.
As for the Angel situation, SMG might actually be more willing to return if she could beg DB to come back for perhaps an initially-limited role and the scenario is one I believe she'd actually support, as it fits with her preferences!
While it might seem that Buffy as a single mother retreads the original, Angel is obviously nothing like the Hank situation (not to mention Joyce and Hank being completely clueless), so the circumstances of the father would be quite different from Buffy's own situation, while also feeding into her own stated fears about her future.
This also brings up all the conversations in Bad Eggs, The Prom and the Chosen cookie dough analogy (children are mentioned again) to the forefront. Unlike with the other options, it was something that came up repeatedly. Admittedly, it was always by Angel due to his infertility and the human life he most desired; all of which ended up being an important part of *his* story.
However, a part of Bad Eggs that is woefully underrated is that Buffy was disappointed when Angel told her vampires can't have children. She immediately covers it up with a babble speech and then starts making excuses for why Slayers are unlikely to have that kind of future. Young Buffy did not disregard it because she didn't want children ever at all, but because the person whom she saw that future with was someone who couldn't have them.
Enter Nikki Wood, where Buffy learns that at least one Slayer was definitely a mother, which she was clearly surprised by.
That's another reason why I can see Buffy, if she got her hopes up with post-Shanshu Angel and conceived, would do anything to be a good mom by not being all about "the mission". She would never want her child to be raised without parents. And I think she'd be doubly sensitive to that, not just because of Nikki, but because of Hank leaving and Joyce dying.
Buffy also became surrogate mother to Dawn, who was made out of her (in a sense, she is her real mother), so Angel's situation with Connor actually had a direct mirror in Buffy's situation with Dawn.
But those conversations were also not just about wished-for children that couldn't be conceived, but also asking Buffy to think about what she wants for her future if she took out the belief that Slayers don't live long enough to have one.
This show would be the answer to what happens to a Slayer when she does live long enough to have the future she barely wanted to get her hopes up for before.
Buffy (ditto Angel) is the character for which this story actually has a ton of setup in the shows themselves. These characters talked about it! And the circumstances are really nothing like Joyce and Hank, even if the initial setup plays into both Buffy and Angel's worst nightmare scenarios about parenthood: being a single mother and not getting to raise the miracle child you thought you'd never have. That kind of bittersweet writing that shirks too-good-to-be-true wish-fulfillment is a cornerstone of what makes it a Buffyverse storyline. If the daughter's family lied to her about their history to keep her safe and protect her from knowing what goes bump in the night (making them the polar opposites of Hank and Joyce in regards to knowing all too well--especially Angel's experience of being the worst thing you could bump into at night, rather than utterly clueless), that would certainly be a conflict. Especially if she found out in a particularly shocking way (say, prophetic dreams). And if Angel (I'd like to imagine he has the company of ghost!Wesley and maybe Illyria and Spike) has been taken for punishment by Wolfram & Hart, it might really confuse her if she doesn't know that he didn't just leave or some other excuse Buffy covered it up with. Wolfram & Hart would also probably love the irony of Angel getting what he most desires (to be human and a father), only to punish him with it by wasting his remaining years separated from all that he loves.
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