#and of course i wouldn't condone this in a real life setting

[loustatapologist]

Coming here with the most unpopular fucking opinion: i fucking loved this episode. That ending was so fucking upsetting i kept looking away .

Truly hannibal season 2 ending level of fucked up

[callmelola111]

K.O. ♡ e.w. oneshot

 ✄ - - - -   inspo track   - - - -   bull believer- wednesday

synopsis: as hours, minutes, and seconds count down till the new year, secrets are revealed and trust is broken. who knew the downfall of your life could be so freeing—and that a total stranger would be the one to catch you.

      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 4.8k

      | ❀ | cw: 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, reader is in a toxic relationship with a man (sexuality isn’t mentioned in huge detail so feel free to hc however you like—they could be bi, pan or just a lesbian with very real comp het), coming out scene (refers to self as “gay”), heavy swearing, descriptions of intense violence + gore, cheating (bf on reader), underage drinking + use of marjuana (18), reader is called a slur (dyke)

a/n: hi hellooo, long time no see! **first, a quick disclaimer: this isn't realistic, there is a complete lack of morals and an unethical/dangerous amount of violence that i wouldn't condone irl. but alas this is fan fiction based off a M rated game whose whole basis is violence, sooo plz keep that in mind when reading.** anywaysss... i’ve been obsessed with this song for months now and it sparked a little oneshot idea so here it is. not exactly my usual stuff, more of a passion project as i process my hatred for men as a lesbian who used to date them. soooo i guess this one goes out to my small town comp het girlies who love ellie williams. thanks for all the support!! ♡~ lola

In the south it never really felt like a true winter. All the holidays that came along with it never felt real either. Christmas was dull and New Years was even worse. After spending the last 18 years of your life in a small hick town, it felt like no use to wish for some “better future”. You were damned from the start. Sure it was a new year, but it was the same old shit and you knew nothing was gonna change until you got out of this hell hole.

Just 6 more months of pretending, you’d tell yourself. 6 more months of bending over backwards to please your overbearing parents. 6 more months of mediocre sex with your shitty boyfriend that you weren’t even sure you liked. 6 more months of artificial conversations with your estranged friend group from middle school who claim to “not get you” anymore. But at this point, as every little thing ate away at you, you weren’t sure if you could keep up your act for much longer. Especially tonight, where you’d be faced with the challenge of appeasing all 3. 

December 31st, 9:00pm:

Adorned in a matching set of mint green pjs you sat patiently on your bed waiting for the go-ahead. Like clockwork, your parents gave a small knock and pushed open your door from its cracked position. It always annoyed you how they knocked, pretending to respect your privacy while simultaneously enforcing a “no closed doors” rule. You thought at 18 they would’ve let it go, but no. 

“Well hun, me and your mother are heading out now. We don’t expect to be back till the morning… Ya know, just to be safe while taking part in all the ‘festivities’.” Your dad chuckled, throwing up some air quotes. Your mom stood deadpan waiting for him to wrap up his little bit before butting in.

“No plans for the evening, right?” She phrased her words like a question but you knew this was just her way of subtleing enforcing the stupid rules you’ve followed your whole life.

“Of course not momma. Probably just gonna watch Gilmore Girls reruns and then go to sleep before any fireworks start up.” You gestured to your pjs but your perfectly made bed said otherwise. See, you knew this little routine like the back of your hand. You knew just what to do and just what to say in order to lure your parents into a false sense of security. While they stood in the frame of your door wishing you a goodnight, your party clothes hung on the other side of it, just out of their view.

December 31st, 9:30pm:

A loud honking blared from just outside your bedroom window. You ushered the sheer curtains open and glared out at the little sedan sputtering in your driveway. Your hands ran down your face followed by a big sigh. It’s not like you didn’t know your boyfriend Jax was coming to pick you up for the new years party that night, you had planned it just days before. But unbeknownst to him, the only reason you reached out was because you didn’t have a ride and tonight was one of the few times your parents wouldn’t be around to police curfew. 

You climbed into the passenger seat already cringing at the unidentifiable smell and litters of trash covering the floor. Forcing a smile to your face you greet the grimey boy sitting at the wheel with a wave.

“Come onnnn, not even a kiss? You must be real happy to see me, huh?” You grit your teeth, squeeze both eye’s shut, and lean in for a peck to appease his complaints. 

“Of course I’m happy to see you babe.” This was a lie. Something you had become quite good at these past few years, even lying to yourself at times. The rest of the car ride was silent, leaving you to ponder this drudgery of a relationship. You weren’t quite sure when things shifted or if there was ever an attraction at all, but after a year together and college approaching you just decided to ride it out until the inevitable. And part of you recognized the same in him, so there was never any guilt about it. 

December 31st, 9:45pm:

Alcohol was the first thing on your mind as soon as the car went into park. The door to the house was propped wide open, inviting in teens of the small town. Some top 10 hit boomed from a speaker nested in the main living area, not really your style—at least not sober. You scavenged the kitchen for a clean solo cup to designate as your own and began the journey to drunkenness. Jax followed in suit with a couple bottles of beer. The harsh burn in your throat lingered but the alcohol's effect was already beginning to take off the edge that was your life.

You attempted to initiate some conversation with the man who had brought you here but he was too busy texting to listen. So consumed with the glow of his screen, you couldn’t help but peek to see what was so interesting. As soon as you got a glimpse you wished you had been less nosey. His attention was not being stolen by a dumb Instagram reels, but actually, a long string of texts with a girl whose name you didn’t recognize. Your stomach pinged at his possible infidelity. Partly because he was your boyfriend but mostly because you’d spent months convincing yourself to like him, to stay with him, to be a good girlfriend—and he could care less. All this work and effort on your part was simply discarded with his unloyal behavior. It was all for nothing. But hey, maybe you were just drawing conclusions. It could just be a friend. Right?

December 31st, 10:15pm:

Jax had finally shifted his attention back to you before his screen lit up again causing you to retaliate in irritation. You swiped up the cracked device before he had the chance and began to scroll.

“Can’t you just silence it? What is soooo fucking importan-.” Your voice caught at the sight of flirty messages littering the screen.

“Are-are you fucking cheating on me?” You instantly questioned.

“Bro no! Give me my fucking phone back!”

“Who the fuck are you texting then? ‘Mary Jane’,” you spouted in a mocking tone, “no way is that someone's real name. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“It’s a joke between me and my cousin. Now would you chill?”

“Your cousin?? You call your cousin baby?? I mean, I knew this town was full of hicks but I didn’t know y’all were those kinds of hicks.” The alcohol was giving you a little too much courage as your taunting waded into dangerous territory.

“The fuck did you just say? Don’t fucking test me! Can’t even handle a couple shots without getting all crazy on me!!”

“Crazy?? I’m being fucking reasonable. Literally any other person would be bothered by this just as much as me.”

“You know what, just fuck off. We can talk when you stop being such a delusional bitch.” He then disappeared into the living room, landing onto the couch, leaving you alone with your anger. 

December 31st, 10:30pm:

You stood idle, bubbling over with emotion, eye’s filling with tears when a wet sensation hit your upper lip. Its flow grew stronger and began to trickle onto your hands where your gaze was locked. Deep red stained your palms- a random nosebleed. It was like a sign from the universe. A sign that you weren’t crazy. In fact, you might be one of the only sane people in this whole damn town. Stuck in your reverie, blood continued to drip on your hands, your shirt, your lips- everywhere. That is until a kind eyed girl slipped you a dish towel to stop the flow. 

“Uh hey, your nose is bleeding.” You snapped your head up finally acknowledging the moment in full.

“Shit thanks, sorry…” Your face went hot realizing how long you had been just standing still, letting the blood fall where it may. The heat doubled, spreading to your ears when you finally acknowledged the person who had witnessed the whole thing. Ellie Williams. You had never formally met but knew of her existence, as she had kind of a reputation around school. There wasn’t anything inherently bad about her (at least in your opinion), she just didn’t fit the mold of most residents in your town. Therefore, she was a target for people's prejudices, especially being the only out lesbian in your senior class. Despite everyone else’s thoughts, you really admired her. You wished you had that type of courage.

“It’s no problem…” the auburn haired girl glanced down deciding what to say next before lifting her gaze back up to you. “Not to be nosey, I know you don’t really know me, but like… are you okay?”

Head tilted back, you gave a nasally reply, “Oh me? Yeah, yeah uh- I’m okay” 

“No offense but uh, you don’t look that okay.” she gestured to your bloody everything.

“Alright so I’m not okay, you got me.” You looked down to your now crimson stained blouse and scrubbed frantically at the chiffon material trying to reprimand the damage.

“Here, here– You can just take my flannel to cover it up, I promise I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Before you could say anything else, Ellie was sliding the warm garment over your shoulders and guiding you into the arm holes. It was dark blue, in a faded plaid pattern, and smelled of pine and incense. The girl was now left barren in just her white tank– and all for you.

“Yeah of course.” She then took it a step further, buttoning you up. You watched as her dexterous fingers worked up from the bottom of the shirt to the top, brushing you at each maneuver. A little jab into the plush right under your naval, a swipe past your ribs, and a tap at your collarbones. The quick, unexpected interaction left you completely flustered and you weren’t quite sure why.

“Thank you.” was all you could say. 

“Sooo… do you wanna talk about it?” At this point, Ellie was completely enamored with you from the way you handled yourself with Jax. She had this unusual feeling, a feeling like she needed to protect you. A feeling that you were different from most. Maybe you were even a little like her?

“Honestly, yeah. My friend Samara was supposed to be here tonight but I guess she decided not to show, and I’m starting to wish I didn’t either.”

“Well, if it’s worth anything, I’m glad you’re here. Come on now, follow me.” Ellie led the way to a set of stairs at the edge of the living room. You snaked right past the couch where Jax was drunkenly passed out, mumbling obscenities at his phone. Of course, he paid no mind to you. The idiot was too consumed with himself to even wonder if you were okay.

December 31st, 11:00pm:

You and the sweet girl sat on the rough carpeted step talking about everything under the sun. Ellie was the first person in a really long time who you felt you could be honest with.

“So you think he’s cheating on you?” she questions trying to clarify the few bits of dialogue she heard while watching from afar.

“I know he is. I’m not stupid.”

“I’m sure you’re not.” Ellie put her head down staring at the laces of her dirty converse. You felt so unreadable, making her unsure of how to proceed in the conversation. “So00, how do you feel about it all then?”

“I don’t know, I guess angry.” you answered with a remarkably solemn tone. 

“What about… sad?”

Like second nature, you instantly thought of a less than honest answer until Ellie’s attentive green eyes brought you back to Earth. 

“It feels like… I’m supposed to be sad, but I can’t. In a twisted, confusing way, I’m honestly kinda relieved. So fucking pissed, but relieved.” Ellie’s lids widened, this was an answer she wasn’t expecting at all–but one she was glad to hear.  

“I can’t blame you, he does kinda seem like a piece of shit.”

“And his dick is small too.” you quipped, making Ellie chuckle under her breath.

“Maybe I’m reading into things, but… it seems like you never really liked this guy in the first place.” 

You took a guilty pause before confirming, “Maybe…”

“So why haven’t you broken up with him?” Ellie was genuinely curious. She thought if it was her in the situation she definitely would’ve gotten rid of that Jax guy long, long ago. Who would wanna keep around a douche bag like that?

“Being with Jax felt convenient. He felt like my ticket to ‘normalcy’.” You put your head down in slight shame but continued the explanation. “I got so caught up in my image that I neglected how I actually felt. I was doing everything to please everyone but me.”  Ellie scooted in one inch to the left, now connecting your thighs and bringing in a sense of comfort.

“Trust me, I understand. This town is fucking ruthless.”

“God yeah, the things I’ve heard people say about you are seriously fucked up. I don’t know how you do it.” A beat of silence lingered as Ellie articulated her thoughts.

“I think… community. I mean, obviously most of the people at our school look down on me, but all it takes is one singular person to be right there with you and then things don’t feel so bad. I guess for me, I can’t imagine being anything but myself. Like completely myself.” The girl looked up from the hangnail she was picking at as she spoke and was met with your tear filled eyes. “Fuck, did I say something?”

Your hand shot up to quickly wipe away the floodgates threatening to fall, “No, no. It’s just that you’re right,” you stuttered, choking down another cry, “an-and, I wish I would've realized it sooner because these past 4 years have been like hell. I don’t wanna be the cookie cutter straight girl anymore. I just wanna be me.”

Ellie then placed a gentle hand to your knee and brought her eyes to meet your own, “And what might that be?”

“Gay. Like really fucking gay.” you said through teary-eyed laughs as Ellie joined in with her own hearty chuckle.

“Welcome to the club.” she said, sticking out a strong hand for you to shake. You grasped it tightly as her warm palm guided you up and down, her touch lingering just a little longer than the gesture itself. As you collected yourself you whipped out a small pocket mirror to touch up the smudged mascara littering your undereyes. Ellie admired in silence. She was in pure awe of your resilience, and when you were finished with your clean up, you turned back to realize what had just gone down.

“Fuck, I’m sorry for dumping all that on you considering we just met. It’s weird how things I’ve never even said out loud before can come out so easily around a stranger.”

Ellie nudges you with her shoulder, “I guess I just have that effect, huh?”

“I guess you do.” you sighed, nudging her back.

December 31st, 11:15pm:

The two of you continued your banter until a cold breeze from the back door gave Ellie a brilliant idea.

“Dare I say… you look like you need a blunt?” she said with a mischievous smirk.

“No, please. It's exactly what I need.”

Ellie then reached into the pocket of her baggy jeans, “I guess it’s your lucky day then.” she said, revealing the most perfectly wrapped blunt you’d ever seen.

“You’re actually god sent Ellie. How are we just now meeting?” The auburn-haired girl gave a small laugh before grabbing your hand and leading you to the backyard. As she pushed the white panel door open, every single ounce of weight that had been lifted off from that one singular conversation, all came crashing back down. Ellie and you weren’t the only ones who adventured outside into the brisk night air. Right on the porch stood Jax, accompanied by your “friend” Samara, who up until this point you didn’t even think was coming. The piece of shit was practically sucking her face off before the creaking sound of the back door sent them 5 feet apart.

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” you yelled, eyes growing dark with rage. Ellie just stood and watched from the corner.

“Babe, please! I swear it’s not what you think!” Jax stumbled forward, attempting to grasp at your figure.

“Don’t you dare try and touch me! You don’t even deserve to look at me. It’s over Jax. I’m done being suffocated by your never ending bullshit!” Knuckles clenched, you continued your lashings, this time at Samara. “I-I thought we were friends. What happened to that?”

“You don’t even like him. You should be thanking me.” she spat. 

“You really don’t get it, huh? This has nothing to do with me liking Jax or not, you completely betrayed our friendship the second you started fucking him behind my back. Friends don’t fuck each other boyfriends Samara!” Before she could even respond Jax was dragging her away, flipping you off on the way inside.

“Ellie-” you squeaked, trembling in shock. 

“Come here, it’s okay love.” she whispered, parting her arms to make a safe space just for you. You collapsed into the warm cavity and relinquished the buckets of tears you had been saving for the moment someone actually gave a fuck. And Ellie did. She never let go of you even for a second as you crumbled under her.

“Jeez I’m sorry.” you said after minutes of pure silence, lifting your head to meet Ellie’s green eyes. 

“For what?”

“For being a drunk mess, crying to you about a man, and also, I think I got a little snot on your shirt.” you tried to laugh it off but you really just wanted to disappear.

Taking your face in her palms Ellie reassured you, “hey, hey no need to be sorry pretty girl. You’ve been through a lot tonight. Besides, I think I look kinda good with this huge ass wet spot in the middle of my tank top. What do you think?” You stepped back and took a look at the damage, and honestly, she was kinda right. With the white cotton material you could see right through to her toned stomach, barely missing the bottom of her breasts. 

“Fine, yes. I’m sure there’s plenty of girls who’d kill to see you in a wet shirt Ellie.”

“Lucky you then.” she said, playfully nudging your shoulder.

You couldn’t help it as the corners of your mouth turned upwards, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“There’s that smile. Soooo… blunt now?”

“Yes. Blunt.”

December 31st, 11:30pm:

And just like that, you were halfway through the chestnut wand of herbs and deep in conversation.  

“So you really haven't seen But I’m a Cheerleader?” Ellie asked, blowing out a puff of smoke with the question and passing it on.

You took the blunt from between her fingers and let it rest between your own, “No. Should I have?” 

“Definitely dude, it’s like queer classic.”

“Oh yeah?” You cocked your head at the freckled faced girl. 

“Yeah. And now that I’m thinking about it, you’re honestly just like the main character.”

“How so?” you asked, taking another long draw. 

“She’s in denial about being gay for like the first 30 minutes of the movie.”

A string of coughs unleashed from your chest as you let out a hefty laugh mid-inhale, “Bitch-”

“What? I’m being so deadass!”

“Fine, what character are you then?” you pry, passing the lit blunt back over to Ellie.

Taking a hit she replies, “I guess I’d be graham.”

“And what does she do?”

“I’m kinda like your awakening in a sense. Graham is all gay and cool, and of course Megan—that's you—totally falls for her.” 

You retrieve the lit cannabis and roll your eyes, “I haven’t fallen for you yet Williams.”

“Yet.” she emphasizes, placing a soft finger to the tip of your nose tauntingly.

“Ha. Ha.” you monotonously mock, “Now here, I think it’s done.” You hand Ellie the roach and she promptly stubs it out into the concrete slab deck.

“Come on, let’s go inside. I’m fucking cold.” she pleas.

“Dude I’m scared. Like I am way too fucked up for this.”

“No, no– I promise you’re fine. I’ll protect you.” 

“Fineee.” you drag out.

December 31st, 11:50pm:

Things were seemingly fine as you and Ellie entered the muggy living area of the packed house once more. Your hesitancy was quite clear though and Ellie could sense you needed just a little reassurance. Your right hand, currently picking away at the hangnail on the thumb of your left, was quickly captured by Ellies own rough hand which led you back to your comfortable spot on the ascending stair set.

As you both took a seat your grip remained tight on the girl, afraid that if you let go you might jump up from your spot right then and there just to give Jax one more lesson. Just the sight of him through the slats of the stairs’ wooden railing—legs casually spread wide and eyes focused in on a casual game of Mortal Kombat—drove you fucking crazy. 

“Dude if you keep staring like that you might actually burn a hole through his dumb ass T-shirt.” Ellie said, nudging your tensed shoulder.

“Good it’s ugly anyways.”

“Fair point.”

“I just have this burning need to get back at him. I wanna beat his ass just like in that game he can’t take his eyes off.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “Very funny, but you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Oh yeah?” you questioned before laying a soft punch to the girl's forearm. A string of dramatic “Ows” reverberated from her lips. “See, I’m a badass right?”

“Fine you’re a total badass” she agreed begrudgingly, rubbing the soft tissue of her arm where you had left your mark. 

“What? It hurt that bad? You need me to kiss it better?” you taunted. 

“Maybe I do.” she said, longing eyes staring into your own. 

You gulped down any hesitation and felt it drop straight to your nervous stomach, “Where does it hurt?”

Ellie pointed to her arm slowly, “here.”

You placed a soft peck.

Hot breath raising goosebumps to the surface of her skin, “and here”, she gestured to her outstretched neck

Another supple kiss.

“And um-” she continued, but was quickly cut off and brought back to reality with the bellowing sound of a countdown. Too caught up in the moment, you both had almost forgotten about the holiday currently taking place.

FIVE… FOUR… THREE… TWO…

“Can I kiss you?” she blurted frantically, and with no words you dove into her plump, chapped lips. Just like a puzzle piece your bottom lip slotted perfectly between her own. It was a gentle and delicate kiss at first, drinking in the euphoric moment. Quickly though, soft maneuvers of the mouth got quicker and harder. Spit was exchanged with passion and need, as your hands were becoming grabby at the girl's toned figure. The heat growing between your legs was an easy distraction from the fact that you were at a large party, in a hick town, with your ex-boyfriend now hovering over your more than friendly exchange.

January 1st, 12:01am:

“The fuck? You’re a dyke now?” he yells, practically loud enough for the whole party to hear. You and Ellie frantically pull apart, bumping heads in the process.

The calloused hands that were once caressing the small of your back are now balled into tight fists as Ellie rises from her seated position.

“The fuck did you just say?” she questions, tilting her head to the right.

You now stand up with her, worried where this might go, “Jax you need to walk away.”

“Oh shut up slut. You’re so fucking desperate you’d do it with anyone!” 

That one hurt. That was the tipping point. Tears welled in your eyes. 

“I’M NOT A FUCKING SLUT! I’M GAY AND NEVER LIKED YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

“You need to leave now before I do something I’ll regret, you dirty bitch.” he threatens. And that's it, Ellie takes a swing aiming straight for his nose. Her fist retracts and reveals his bloody and now crooked cartilage. Through clenched teeth Jax grips onto Ellies white tank, throwing her into the open space of the living room. Just like a car crash, it’s one of those things where a scene can be so disturbing but you just can’t look away. And everyone else in the room was feeling it too—backed into corners, hands over mouths, some men even obnoxiously chanting “fight, fight.” But this isn’t what you wanted. Not at all.

“STOP! YOU NEED TO FUCKING STOP IT!” you screamed desperately. You didn’t even want to imagine what Jax would do to the freckled girl who changed your life in mere hours. But you didn’t have to, because here they were, brawling it out for the whole school. Jax swung at Ellie’s head to which she ducked before jabbing him in the stomach, stealing whatever air was swimming in his lungs. He stumbled backwards 3 steps, coughing through the hit, but this just made him angrier.

He charged back at the flustered girl with more force and gained a grip on a wad of choppy auburn hair. With a forceful yank she came tumbling to the ground with him on top. Ellie wriggled, pushed, and kicked but the sheer weight of the furious man was enough to keep her pinned. Jax began punching left and right, capturing her face with each blow. Thick crimson decorated his knuckles and the entirety of the girl's face. You could barely make out her litter of freckles and the half-lidded slits of emerald green—it was blood, all blood.

But as Jax kept on going, and the room grew quieter, this fight turned into something much more serious. It was inching on life or death and you had to do something. You surveyed the room, eyes dancing from counter to counter until a large glass beer bottle nagged at the tips of your fingers. Grabbing it tightly in your fist, you did what you had to to end this. Glass and gasps scattered through the room. The sharp brown shards littered the floor and evoked a gushing red stream from the back of Jax’s head. He instantly rolled to the side leaving Ellie an opening to escape. You weren’t done yet though, he hadn’t gotten what he deserved yet. Falling to the floor right at his body, hot tears streamed down your face.

Through curses and screams you thrashed at the man's barely conscious frame, “FUCK YOU JAX! FUCK YOU!” This was for every time he made you feel stupid, for making you feel like the ugliest girl in the room, for all the times he kissed you while you just prayed for it to be over, for making your life a living hell. With each scratch, punch, and kick all the pent up anger and resentment drained from your soul. Ellie let you have at him for a bit but as the crowd started to thin she knew the cops would be here any second now.

“Come on! We gotta go hun!” she nagged. 

“NO I CAN’T! NOT YET” you yelled, collapsing down into tears. Ellie promptly scooped you up by your armpits and dragged you from Jax’s limp body.

“I know baby, you're angry, it’s hard. But the cops are coming and we need to leave now.” she said, picking you up completely and carrying you through the frame of the propped open front door. You nestled your head into her bloody top as your chest still rapidly rose up and down, choking on the last few streams of tears and snot. “I’m gonna get you home love, don’t you worry.”

January 1st, 12:15am:

Finally through the small window of Ellie’s red truck you spot your familiar 2 story home. She grips the steering wheel, whipping to the right into the empty driveway. Of course she helps you inside and up to your quaint little bedroom. It felt weird almost—so quiet and still after such a chaotic night—and void of any life but you and the freckled faced girl. It was a cold feeling knowing you’d be all alone in just a few minutes, and tonight, you weren’t sure if that was a feeling you wanted to know.

“Els?”

“Yeah?” she answered softly. 

“Can you stay?”

With a kiss to the head she agreed, “Of course I’ll stay.” The rest of the night was spent cuddled up under your warm comforter, and despite all the events from just hours before, you felt safe. And for once, in fucking years, you were content.

✄ - - - -   masterlist   - - - -   ♡

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[skzoologist]

Hi could u possibly do soft moments between Bae and the members that Stay maybe wouldn't see as they are more in private 😊

word count: ~4.7k words, around 500-700 word per member

warnings: just some tooth-rotting fluff ^-^

genre: fluff

a/n: Hey-ho anon, of course I can! I have gone a bit overboard with this to be quite honest, but I hope you like it! I'm very happy you requested something, especially because it is some diabetes-inducing fluff. Sorry, sorry, I'll wrap it up and let you read what I wrote, I am just so happy about my first request!

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Bang Chan:

A soft knock echoed through the room, no answer to greet it back. But he anticipated it, opening the door anyway and slipping inside silently.

The busy form of his hyung greeted him as he entered the studio, back slightly hunched as he was leaning ever so slowly closer and closer to the screen, completely absorbed in his work of creating art. A gentle smile slipped onto Bae's lips, his eyes sweeping across the room.

He loved his hyung and the other members of 3racha, he really did, but he couldn't help the disappointed sigh that left his chest at the state of the place.

It was an absolute mess -although it was usually pretty clean, to be fair-. Blankets and hoodies were laying everywhere, the table was cluttered with empty takeout boxes.

Thus, he silently got to work; first he gathered up the trash, putting it all into a plastic bag he found -probably what the food had arrived in-. Then, he collected all the hoodies, folding and laying them onto the now clean table for the others to find easily later. And lastly, he grabbed the blankets and comfortably laid across the couch with them: one acted as a pillow, one blanketed him as intended.

Bae was bullied into taking a rest by the others, but since they themselves were all busy doing something else -what hypocrites-, he thought he would join Chan in the studio.

Bae never said it out loud, but he treasured quiet moments like these, where he could just lay around in the others' presence, comfortable silence draped across them like a safety blanket; just like now.

As he was watching a video on his phone -one ear plugged in with an earbud, the other left open in case Chan needed something-, the silence was broken.

"Hey Bae, could you please listen to this?" - Chan asked, as if Bae's presence was normal in the room.

And maybe it was, with the surprising amount of times he visited just to take care of his hyung or the other hard-working members.

The younger looked up at his hyung, craning his neck in the process from his comfortable lying position, a small smile gracing his lips as he nodded. Not even a second later a pair of headphones was passed into his hands; he gave a thumbs up to signal he was ready once he put them on.

Upbeat music filled his ears, the notes filling his head and dancing around in there. It felt like his pulse was matching the beat, the rhythm, and he could already imagine the theme, the props, the setting in front of his closed eyes.

But it was all over a bit too soon, the music fading away and leaving emptiness in its wake. Chan's awaiting face greeted him once he opened his eyes, and he already knew what the older wanted.

"The first third is good, but it needs a bit more power, maybe more bass. Around the middle is a weird sound, the different components of the music somehow not clicking well together." - it flowed out of him, Chan nodding along and drinking in his words as if they were water in a desert.

The elder went back to work, not even thanking him. But it wasn't needed, this exchange of theirs now a second nature to them. While Bae wasn’t as well-versed in the world of music as 3racha was, Chan always liked to ask for his opinion without an ounce of hesitation.

Besides, he could see the excited and grateful tinkle in Chan's eyes, how that smile widened with the dimples peeking out once he figured out a new part thanks to Bae's advice.

Lee Know:

He started towards the kitchen once he looked at the time; he knew his menace of a hyung would be there, utilising his wonderful cooking skills.

"Ah, our little otter has arrived. Came to steal some fish?" - said Minho, his voice light and teasing as he turned back towards the cutting board topped with varying vegetables.

Bae just lightly huffed, knowing that whatever he said back would only result in even more teasing. Besides, as much as it got on his nerves sometimes, he knew all the jabs and nicknames were only Minho's way of showing love.

The elder simply chuckled at his lack of verbal answer and put a gentle hand on the middle of his back to lead him towards another cutting board, descaled fish already washed and sitting on top of it.

With a sweep over all the ingredients neatly laid out on the countertop, Bae put together what food they would be eating for lunch and got to work, no instructions needed.

That was the thing with the duo; they worked so much around the kitchen together, they understood the other silently at that point, no words needed. Little glances, a nod of head, a single gesture of the hand or hip. It was like their own little secret language.

Just the thought alone put Bae in an elated mood, lips quirked up oh so slightly, but permanently as he added the sliced up fish into the lightly oiled pan, the meat sizzling in response. A hand appeared on his waist and he slightly stepped away to let the other dump his own chopped up ingredients into a different pan. Some onion, carrot -they were star-shaped, how cute-, green bean peeked out from the conglomerate of vegetables, but Bae was sure he couldn’t successfully identify every ingredient in the pan.

He poked and flipped the fish slices quickly, then stepped away to their rice cooker. The warmth that kept gradually sliding down on his hips left, a slight huff sounding from behind him somewhere.

That cheeky cat was at it again -well, still at it, to be more precise-, always on the hunt for skinship and butts.

Bae silently sighed and poured in the correct amount of rice and water into the machine. With the press of a few buttons it was already buzzing and on its way to make some fluffy rice.

Knowing he was done, Bae turned around and went back to the stove, hovering behind the male stirring the contents of the pan. He slightly leaned over Minho, noting how the fish was done and already taken off the heat, earning a little hum from his throat.

From the corner of his eyes he noticed the elder looking at him, that content warmth and fuzziness dancing around in those dark orbs, staying even after a slow blink, staring right into his very being. And maybe, maybe his eyes reflected the same look, maybe they took on that crescent shape he adored seeing.

He wouldn’t know, not even as he put his chin on Minho’s shoulder, not even as he helped get the table ready for food, all the while dodging advances on his buttocks. But he sure felt content as he glanced at the fully set table, steaming food sitting in bowls, ready to be eaten.

And that was his mistake, as he felt that firm grip and slap. “Yah! Lee Minho, get back here right this instant you little–”

Seo Changbin:

Bae found himself in a precarious situation.

You see, he was simply on his way to the kitchen to get some water, then immediately return back to his room and continue working. But the moment he stepped foot in the living room -something he had to do to get to the kitchen-, a certain dwaekki set his eyes on him and loudly protested when he tried to leave.

“Binnie, I have things to do, let me go–” “Nooooooo, stay with me, everyone else is busy, I’m lonelyyyyy.” “No, really, Binnie, please–”

But no matter what he said, Changbin only clinged stronger to him, strong arms encircling his waist and trapping him hostage.

After a minute of struggling and whining -from the dwaekki’s end-, Bae decided to take mercy on his own ears and with a heavy sigh, remained still in Changbin’s hold. The immediate joy that radiated from the man was absurd, you would have thought he had won the lottery or something.

But no, he just had a hold of his tallest hyung, turning him into a plushie as he flopped onto the couch and snuggled into his lax form. The satisfied sigh that left his chest was heavy, an indicator of just how comfortable the short male was.

Bae was already familiar with how cuddly and demanding Changbin could be, he knew it all too well. Thanks to his ‘wonderful’ bandmates, who all just showed him into the short male’s arms as a sacrifice most of the time, knowing full well it would be impossible to escape. Your only choice was to accept your fate and be manhandled around, like a lifeless doll, because god have mercy on you if moved and squirmed around.

Changbin was a loud man and he had no hesitation to remind anyone of that fact, no matter how close they were physically at that moment.

“Wanna continue the series we started last week?” - came the question Bae was dreading. “Binnie…” - but a single look at those shining chocolate orbs filled with hope and the stars was all it took, his will wavering and shattering completely.

The sound echoed in his ears, as if a pane of frozen ice was dropped onto the hard ground.

So he simply silently sighed and nodded, already reaching for the remote that laid on the coffee table, as he was laying closer towards it.

A few button presses and a bit of a scrolling later he found the show on netflix and hit play, placing back the remote onto the table to be out of the way. He focused back onto the screen after, the intro skipped and the characters already on-screen, getting thrown into the drama of the episode.

But just as he was getting absorbed into the story, the cuddling male wiggled around to find a new comfortable position. Once that was done, he directed his gaze back onto the screen, following the female lead as she–.

Changbin was doing it again.

And again, and again, until Bae realised what was wrong.

“You want snacks, but don’t want to let me go, don’t you, Binnie?” - the heavy silence was all the confirmation he needed, as he sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time. “Well I don’t want you to escape, Hyung…” Dear gods, he was pouting. “Alright, then hold onto me.” “Wait what–” But Bae didn’t wait around, simply held onto Changbin who clung onto his form like a koala to a tree and stood up carefully, not wishing to topple over and injure both of them.

He could get snacks like this and keep his little dwaekki happy, what a win-win situation.

Hwang Hyunjin:

It was one of those rare days, where he found himself gripping a pencil and his stashed away sketchbook.

Soft lines appeared on the white void, connecting and crossing paths in varying places. Some stained the paper greatly, leaving a strong presence behind, while the others barely appeared to be visible at all.

He wasn’t putting a lot of thought behind it, really, he just let his hands take the lead and doodle out whatever they wanted.

And soon the lines created shapes, the shapes piece by piece drawing out to be a face.

Oh.

Apparently he'd been drawing his artistic bandmate, but that wasn’t a big surprise to be quite honest. They had a photoshoot the previous day and everyone was in awe of Hyunjin’s beauty. The image still lived clearly in his head, the soft, colourful lights hitting the male’s features perfectly.

Maybe he should have started drawing on a bigger, professional paper instead, not his cheap little sketchbook.

But before he could stand up to do so, his door opened after a soft knock. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Hyung, wanna go and-...Hang on, are you drawing without me? Am I seeing things correctly?” - you could already hear the exasperation in Hyunjin’s voice, the fake hurt rearing its head. “Jin…” “How could you?? Hyung, I trusted you!” “No, Jinnie, look–” “Whenever I ask you to draw with me, you decline, saying you are busy, but then you do this behind my back??” “Hyunjin, please–” “How many times have you done this? How can I ever trust you again?” “I’ll draw with you.” “Have you been–...hang on. What did you just say?” “I’ll draw with you now.”

After the three full seconds it took the younger to process what'd happened, his face lit up and a delighted sound left his lips. Bae could only sigh, but there were no negative feelings behind it. He truly did enjoy their art sessions together, as rare as they were.

So, he let Hyunjin drag him around into the blonde’s room, all the while excitedly babbling. Once Hyunjin was excited and rambling, you had no choice but to let him tire himself out.

It was all very endearing, really.

Bae watched the other zoom around the strategically messy room, gathering supplies for both of them. Paint supplies for himself, a pencil set for Bae.

Having everything they needed, they both comfortably sat down facing the other and got to work.

It seemed like this time Hyunjin didn’t want to discuss what their subject or topic of art was going to be, but that was fine with Bae. He was just going to continue what he had started, but now on a professional canvas.

He did have a perfectly good reference right in front of him, after all.

That was how time went by, both of them immersed in their own work as soothing instrumental music filled in the silence. Their canvases not empty anymore, now filled with a myriad of colours and shapes.

Looking over his work one final time, subtly glancing back at his subject, Bae deemed the artwork done and put his pencil back in its place. Feeling stiff, he stood up quietly and stretched, satisfying pops ringing through the air.

And as if they planned it out, Hyunjin stood up as well to stretch, a smile painted over his lips when their gazes met. With a single flick of his hand he beckoned Bae over, the taller striding over towards his easel.

Pure shock and surprise sat upon his face, his wide eyes drinking in the colourful strokes that painted him.

“I caught a glimpse of your sketch earlier, Hyung. So in exchange, I did the same. How do you like it?”

But Bae could only stare at the painting in front of him, his cheeks dusted and blood ablaze fueled by adoration.

Han Jisung:

He only heard the faint sound of a footstep before he was tackled from behind, almost falling face-first into the floor, had he not grabbed onto the wall in reflex.

“What the fuck, Sungie, you could have injured yourself!” “But Bae hyuuuuuung, I missed youuuu.” “We literally saw each other 4 hours ago.” “Exactly, that’s 4 hours too long!”

Bae could only sigh at that, silently readjusting Jisung on his back so he wouldn't slip off and started walking back to the practice room -where he was originally going, without an added weight on his back-.

“That interview was so boring without you.” “Sungie… I don’t talk a lot, what do you mean?” “Sure, but you let me play with your fingers. Or your clothes. You’re just, just, there, you know? It’s really boring when you aren’t.” - it took the taller every drop of willpower to not accidentally misstep or let the younger slip down from his back. He was pleasantly surprised, heat slightly dusting his cheeks.

“But wasn’t Seungminnie with you?” “Yea, but that’s not the same.”

Bae simply hummed, still trying to fight off the heat from his cheeks as he stepped foot back into the practice room he had for himself for the day. He went towards his phone -that was connected to the audio system-, thinking which dance to practice.

But even after he had successfully decided, started the music and walked back to the middle of the room, Jisung did not budge at all. Not even when he let go of his legs, no. The brunette merely tightened his hold, arms and legs wound around Bae as if he would disappear any second.

A single glance at the mirrored wall they were facing was all it took to see the playful grin on Jisung’s face and cause Bae’s face to deadpan.

Well, two could play that game.

And with that, Bae simply got into position and was about to start dancing, when his little squirrel finally detached from his back in slight panic.

Before a word could leave Jisung’s mouth, Bae spun around and grinned widely, attacking brunette’s sides in a brutal tickle attack. The younger boy thrashed around, begging for mercy, even fighting for it, but to no avail.

His attacker didn’t let up, only after tears sprung out of Jisung’s eyes and air barely entered his lungs.

Satisfied with a job well done, Bae stood up and huffed, hands on his hips as he looked down at the absolutely dishevelled and dead-looking Jisung. Knowing he won’t move for a while, Bae simply grabbed both his legs and dragged him away, to not be in the way and accidentally get hurt.

Afterwards he went to reset the music -his playlist was going ever since-, then got back into position.

The beat of the music seeped into his being, his pulse picking up to match it. Careful of every step, the angle of his limbs, the flow of the moves, he practiced the dance ‘til perfection.

His chest heaved, droplets of sweat rolling down his skin as he glanced up and saw something in the mirror.

His eyes zeroed in on it as an ‘Oh no’ echoed through the room, the perpetrator already scrambling up from his seat and running towards the door.

“Han Jisung, come back here this instant and tell me why you started a live in my dance session, you–!”

Lee Felix:

The sky was blue, the grass was green and Felix was a stubborn man. All rules of life, things you had to accept and live with.

That was why when Felix grabbed Bae’s wrist the moment they got back to the dorms, he didn’t put up a fight. The older simply sighed as the others laughed at his misery and just followed the excited male into his room.

The moment the door was closed and the younger was sure his hyung would not be able to escape, he let his wrist go and excitedly started booting up his console.

“Come on Dal hyung, let’s play some Mario Kart!” - Bae was a weak man, his ability to say no to those sparkling eyes nonexistent.

So, he just nodded, accepting the controller offered to him and plopped onto the bed, his back propped up by the headboard and the sea of pillows Felix had. There were also plushies of all sorts laying around, the little skzoo plushies standing out as they were all neatly placed into comfortable positions.

His attention was stolen away when he felt the bed dip next to him, the younger crawling into his lap without a second to waste. Not like Bae minded it. He circled his arms around the younger and placed his chin on his smooth, blonde mop of hair.

“You can choose the map and all.” - Bae answered before Felix could even ask, receiving a hum in response.

They both chose their characters, and the game started.

Now, even though Bae wasn’t a professional gamer or even a casual one -especially compared to his bandmates-, he could still hold his ground. A dodge of a banana peel here, a timed speed booster there, and he was already climbing the ranks, getting closer and closer to the younger.

He could feel Felix becoming nervous, especially when he leaned away from his hold to concentrate better, leaving Bae empty handed on the bed.

But the elder expected this, having had this dance countless times before, already knowing how it would end as well.

And he was right, the same thing happened as it usually did, with Bae winning and Felix losing somehow.

“Agh, what the hell? How did that shell hit me, I wasn’t even in its line of fire! A rematch, gimme a rematch, Hyung!”

And so Bae did, giving the younger what he wanted one after the other.

But after the 10th one, the score in favour of Bae with 7-3, Felix got so frustrated he started sulking. He was turned away on the bed from Bae and all, with his hands crossed and lips probably pouty, controller long forgotten on the floor -where it was thrown at-.

The elder sighed, putting down his own controller and crawled towards the sulking little chicken, dragging him into his hold.

“How about we watch some Ghibli movies, hm? Maybe Totoro, or Kiki’s delivery?” - he whispered out, trying to hold the pouty male’s gaze that avoided him.

A few minutes of silence was all it took, dark orbs now looking back at him with a whisper of ‘Fine’. He smiled, his lips only curving up even more, once Felix’s expression mimicked his.

There was that smile he adored so much.

The freckled male made grabby hands, and Bae happily obliged as he placed him into his lap, arms caging the younger in their hold. Felix wiggled around and snuggled even more into his chest, as if there was any space left between them to conquer.

Kim Seungmin:

It was rare when the second youngest wasn’t insulting someone, causing any trouble or just generally being the ‘nuisance’ he usually was. It was all part of his charm though, no one would truly feel annoyed with him at the end of the day.

Bae knew this as well of course, never taking those playful insults to heart and only jabbing back at the younger a few times if he felt particularly mischievous at that moment.

He was pretty sure it was all part of his love language, just like how physical touch was part of Chan’s or Felix’s for instance, or how acts of service were part of Minho’s. Everyone worked differently, and that was how Seungmin did.

But under all that teasing and being savage, the younger hid away a softness he rarely let the others see. Something even Bae could seldom experience, but cherished nonetheless.

Like when he came back to the dorms after a long day of practice -maybe a bit too long, considering it was almost midnight-, his limbs aching and mind numb from listening to the same song over and over again, in order to perfect that one move he couldn’t quite get.

He didn’t expect anyone to be up -besides Chan of course, that workaholic- and was rightfully surprised, when a sleepy puppy greeted him by the door, taking his bag away and ushering him towards the sofa to sit.

Bae just confusedly looked at the other, but when he tried standing up he was met with the nastiest glare he had seen in a while, so he hurriedly sat back down and waited in silence for the younger to arrive back from the kitchen.

He heard some sounds, the occasional clinking of a utensil against something ceramic, the microwave going off for example. He could only blink at them, not knowing what Seungmin was doing and why he was still up.

But he didn’t have to wonder for long, the brunette appeared with a tray, a steaming bowl of instant ramyeon and a cup of juice sitting on top of it. It was gently pushed onto his lap, the younger boy sitting next to him on the couch, facing him with a pillow in his hold as comfort.

“Eat and rest, Dal hyung. You push yourself too hard sometimes.” - said the gentle voice beside Bae, and he had to let the words sink in to properly process them. “No, Hyung, eat that, or I will break your legs and force it down your throat.”

The elder could only gulp at that, nodding as a response and finally taking a look at his food. It really was instant ramyeon, as he initially thought, but there were extra ingredients added in: a boiled egg, some veggies, and a few slices of meat. Seungmin really took his precious time to make this for him instead of sleeping, even though you could see how tired the boy was.

His eyes that usually shined with mischief were dulled by sleep, his movements a bit sluggish. Sometimes his eyelids remained closed for just a second too long, the motion of opening them looking demanding on the boy’s part.

But even so, Seungmin fought sleep just to watch Bae eat that food, and who was he to deny that from the younger.

Every bite warmed his heart, and not only because it was scalding hot.

Yang Jeongin:

They were all together in the practice room, preparing for their next comeback and everything was going well.

Everyone was nailing the moves they were unsure about before, their bodies moving in sync as if they were gears in a machine, made to work together.

So when the music stopped, they all cheered together, some even dropping onto the floor in relief and exhaustion. Bae was one of them, but mostly because a very enthusiastic Hyunjin tackled him and he just couldn’t properly hold them up when he was so tired already.

“Alright, lunch break.” - Minho exclaimed and everyone bursted into loud cheering, springing up and flocking around Chan to see what they could order online.

It took a bit of nudging to get the blonde off of him, but Bae eventually succeeded and got up himself as well, sauntering over towards the group of very hungry idols. Looking over the available choices and what everyone had already ordered, he settled on getting the same thing as Felix and laid back down onto the ground to wait for the food.

Naturally, with these people as his bandmates, he couldn’t be left alone and enjoy some peace.

No, instead he was dragged around on the floor by Changbin and Jisung, both arguing about who could do it faster or something. Bae wasn’t really paying attention, too tired and hungry to be bothered with such things.

Eventually, the food arrived and he was free once again, but before he could grab his soda can, it was snagged by a certain maknae. The younger popped it open and handed it to him, but not before pinching his cheeks with a fox grin.

“Today, I’m gonna be the hyung, you’ll be the maknae.”

Bae was absolutely frozen and in shock, his eyes wide, one hand holding the box with his food, the other hovering in the air as he was in the middle of grabbing his drink.

That one sentence seemed to have grabbed everyone’s attention, chaos unfolding before Bae’s unblinking eyes.

“Wait, Innie, what do you mean?” “Hang on, hang on, do you mean Bae hyung should be the maknae for today? As in, being babied and stuff?” “Oh my god, you’re a genius!”

Those were a few sentences Bae could make out, before all heads turned towards him and a shiver ran down his spine.

They all flocked around him before he could even lift a finger and the next thing he knew, he was sitting on the ground in Chan’s lap with everyone else around him, being fed different types of food. His hair was an utter mess from all the aggressive headpatting, his cheeks already in pain from all the pinching.

All the while the one behind all this was enjoying the view with a grin, after having had his fair share of abusing the new maknae for the day.

Not being able to take it anymore, Bae somehow successfully wiggled out of Chan’s hold and stood up, huffing as he had to slightly catch his breath from all that.

“Going somewhere, Hyung? Sorry, you're the younger one now.” - came the sudden voice of Jeongin from behind him, scaring the living life out of Bae. “Let me take you there.” - before he could protest, he was picked up by the youngest menace, carried away from all the others who started protesting as they wanted to do the same.

“Innie, why must you hate me?” But Bae never got an answer, only a hearty laugh as he was carried away from the chasing members.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 1

Warnings: None, readers under the age of 18 can read this since it is all fluff.

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

.❤️.

𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖚𝖕 to the small house and let myself in, not bothering to lock the door behind me. Dad would be home soon. I treaded into the kitchen and got myself grapes out of the fridge before running up the stairs into my bedroom. I set my backpack down by my desk and threw myself down on my bed, a feeling of elation filling me. School was officially out.

My bedroom was rather small, but large enough for a bed, bookshelves, a nightstand, a dresser, and a desk. The walls were a light pink and covered with posters of famous Quidditch players and a few Muggle singers (I especially fancied the Beatles). My bed had purple covers and two stuffed animals- a wolf and a cat. The furniture was all white, a small pink phonograph box sitting on the nightstand next to the bed.

There was also a window on the right side of the room, near the foot of the bed, parallel with the door. If I looked out it, I could see into the neighbors back garden. There was a calendar over the desk where I had marked the days off till my birthday. . . and to my first day back to school.

This upcoming school year, I wouldn't be starting seventh grade like all of my friends. Instead, I would be going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. True, I haven't gotten my letter yet, but my dad said I will eventually get one because my birth parents had gone. Not to mention, he had said, that had I showed signs of uncontrolled magic when I was younger.

I suppose he was talking about the time when I turned the principals' jacket from black to bright yellow just by looking at her during a teacher-parent conference. It was an accident though and no one knew what had happened except dad. Actually, dad was quite humored by the accident. Or maybe he was thinking about the time I had breathed underwater for four minutes. I'm not entirely sure.

Of course, my Dad wasn't really my biological dad, he was my adopted dad. My real Dad-and mum- were murdered eleven years ago. Well, almost eleven years. If I'm being technical, it was 10 years and eight months. They were murdered on October 31, which has always kinda killed Halloween for me.

I also have a twin brother who I've never met. His name is Harry Potter. He lives with my Mum's sister, my Aunt. Apparently she's a Muggle. I feel bad for him. He's also extremely famous in our world. He survived being killed by Lord Voldemort. I probably would've been killed, Dad says, If my parents hadn't hidden me.

My Dad is a Werewolf by the name of Remus Lupin. That has caused some significant differences in my life compared to other wizards and witches kids (at least, I would assume considering I've never actually met a magical kid- though I've seen them at Diagon Alley). On full moons ever since I arrived at his house, he's had to set up sleepovers or fake appointments or out of town trips so that the neighbor or one of my friends parents would let me sleep over. But I don't mind, I love him. Honestly, I couldn't be happier.

The way I got to my Dads house is still a bit of a mystery, put together in bits and pieces. My dad assumes that his old friend Sirius Black might've dropped me off. There was a letter from him explaining to Lupin that I was a secret, that my parents didn't want anyone to know that I existed, not even Dumbledore. That was something huge because Dumbledore was one of the greatest wizards of all time.

However, my dad doesn't know who dropped me off. He wasn't even home when I arrived on his doorstep. He had been in the north of the country on business for the Order. (That's the secret organization he worked for to try and take down Lord Voldemort).

Our elderly next door neighbor had seen me when she was setting the milk jugs out and she took me in when she found out Dad wasn't home. I'm just glad that she didn't read any of the letters. Even better, she didn't look at any of the pictures because that would've freaked her out- they moved, unlike Muggle photos which were stationary.

When Remus-Dad- came back, she took me out to see him with my bag and stuff, and told him where she had found me. He never had a chance to ask Sirius about it because by this time, he was in Azkaban.

I won't go into all the nitty gritty details because most people have heard about notorious killer Sirius Black. But, there's some part of me that thinks he may be innocent. I don't know why I believe that, but I do. It's something that I feel in my heart. But all the evidence points at him, so my feeling must be wrong. But I don't think I am. My feelings have never been wrong before.

Anyways, so where was I? Oh right, my father put me in a Muggle school when I was five. This was so I could learn Muggle classes like math and science and history. Actually, unlike most other kids, I find such classes fascinating. But it's not normal for magical kids to go through Muggle school. My father did it because he is a Werewolf.

See, he can't get many jobs in the Wizarding world because our people don't like Werewolves. I don't understand that, but perhaps that's because I'm biased as I've grown up with him and I love him. However, he can sometimes get jobs in the Muggle world because they aren't superstitious and because most jobs don't require him to work at full moon.

My greatest wish is to discover a cure for Werewolves (I'm sure I'll have to create it). I want to help Lupin. I think that's what my real father, James Potter, would have wanted me to do. After all, that's what friends and family do, right? They help each other.

Alright, so its the last day of sixth grade and I 'graduated' with all A's. It wasn't that big of a surprise, I study quite hard for all of my classes since I'm in the highest level classes possible. Plus, it's only sixth grade and rather simple.

My dad was still at work right now. At the moment, he was teaching classes for the ministry. There weren't many people in the class but it was our only source of income so we had to deal with it. I didn't know what the classes were about. It was probably defense classes because that was what dad was good at. I did know that the classes ended soon. They were only being held for a certain amount of time.

But enough about our problems. I would rather talk about the good things in our life. Like the fact that I get to meet Harry this year at Hogwarts! Since we're twins, we will end up going the same year which is super exciting! I know that our Aunt doesn't know I exist so I'm sure she couldn't have told Harry about me, but I have pictures of my mum and dad so I'll be able to prove to Harry that I'm his sister. It's in a locket necklace that I was wearing when I arrived at Lupin's house.

It's a silver necklace in the shape of a heart. It's just a little smaller than a lime and it opens. On either side of the inside are pictures of my mum and dad. My Dad has brown hair and brown eyes and he's wearing glasses. He's wearing a blue buttoned down shirt. He has a smile that lights up the world. He's holding baby me. On the other side is my Mum. She has red-brown hair and green eyes. Lupin says I look like her but I think I look more like James. I wear glasses and my hair is only red in the sunshine. Plus, my eyes are brown, not green. Perhaps I would look more like mum if I didn't wear my glasses. And if I had green eyes.

Sometimes I don't wear glasses because I only really need them for my left eye which at 16/20 vision while my right eye is 20/20.

Mum is holding Harry in the photo. He's got a chubby baby face and he's laughing about something funny. He has black hair just like our father and it's sticking out in every direction. He waves his fist in the air sometimes. We are all smiling.

Lupin has pictures of James in the house that I look at sometimes. There's also a wedding picture of James and Lily. Lupin had been there- but he was very camera shy. But, I'm content with the way things are.

The doorbell rang and I snapped the locket closed. Only Muggles rang the doorbell. Wizards, if any came- which most didn't- knocked. Dad would've just walked through the door.

I bounded down the stairs and opened the door.

"ELIZABETH!" My best friend Trang threw her arms around me. "Guess what!"

"Uhm, no idea." I said, hugging her back. "Come in?"

Trang came in through the door and I closed it behind me. "so what's up?" I asked again but I really didn't need to prompt her.

"I-got-accepted-to-Cincinnati-Hills-Christian-Academy-for-seventh-through-twelfth-grade!!! I told you I was going to test into different boarding schools right?"

I ran back her words in slow motion. Ah, okay, yeah. She had been talking about it nonstop but I didn't comment on this particular aspect.

"Where is this Cincinnati Hills-"

"Oh we call it CHCA for short." She said, grinning. "And obviously it's in Cincinnati."

I racked my brain. I was good with countries and capitals, not so much cities. "Er- what country is that in?"

"America."

My mind went blank. Then I said, "AMERICA! WHAT!"

"I know right! I can't believe it." Trang was practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

I sat down on the couch, feeling just slightly overwhelmed. "So it's a boarding school, correct?"

"No, I have to stay with an American family. It's called having a host family. Sometimes its a trade. Like if they had a daughter who wanted to come here to Britain, then we would trade."

"Do they have a daughter?" I asked, interested.

Trang laughed, "Trying to replace me?"

I laughed too. "Of course not." I winked at her. I wouldn't even be here to meet the hypothetical girl.

She grinned. "No, they were a childless couple but they lived near CHCA and they wanted to host me so I'm grateful."

"Imagine their American accents." I said, trying not to laugh.

She laughed.

We talked for another couple of hours until Dad came home through the door.

"Hey girls." He closed the door lightly behind him.

I looked up at him and my forehead creased in worry. He didn't look happy, though he had a light smile on his face. I stood up and Trang did too.

He smiled at Trang, "Are you staying for dinner?"

Crap, dinner. I closed my eyes, frustrated with myself.

"No, mum wants me home at five unfortunately." Trang said.

I looked at the clock "It's five twenty."

"Oh no." Trang said. She threw her arms around me and I hugged her back quickly. She rushed out the door, saying a quick good-bye to Lupin, and the door clicked behind her. I hurried to the kitchen.

I opened the refrigerator door. I needed to get a job this summer, something small hopefully. That way I could help bring in some money, even if it was Muggle money. Lets see, If 1 Galleon is the equivalent of £5.00, then I would have to make £5.00 to equal one wizarding coin. I bit my lip.

"Elizabeth?"

"Yeah Dad?" I asked, my voice going up an octave because I wasn't supposed to be thinking about getting a job.

"Are you okay? You seemed a little out of it when I came home." He set his battered leather briefcase on the chair.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to make dinner because I was talking to Trang." I said, my face still in the refrigerator door. There- I could cook the leftover chicken with rice and greenbeans and maybe potatoes if we still had any. Not that I liked potatoes but I'd already screwed up not having dinner ready.

Lupin laughed. "I'll go get changed and I'll be down in a moment."

"Okay." I said, pulling the chicken out and putting it on the counter. The refrigerator door swung closed and made a light click. I checked the calendar on the wall. Next week was full moon. I sighed. No wonder he was feeling so down. Unless it had to do with the Ministry classes. . . was this week the last week? No, I had thought they ended in August.

I put the chicken in the pan and put the lid on it. The rice went into another pan and the greenbeans in one next to that. I searched the kitchen for potatoes. We had a couple left. I washed it and cut off the yucky parts and put it in the microwave for six minutes.

As all of that was cooking, I grabbed my notebook out from underneath a box that Dad never moved. I grabbed my pen and opened up the book. I flipped to the back pages where I kept my job ideas.

I was only ten, almost eleven, so not many places hired. Actually, almost none. I could work at the pool in the snack bar. I would make £7 an hour. That wasn't a lot. If you thought about it, it was really like a Galleon a hour. If I worked a full 5 hours a day I would make £35. If I managed to work every day except Sunday, I could make £245. That would put me at around 49 Galleons.

I stared at the numbers on the page. Only 49 Galleons? I put the book down and flipped the chicken over.

But that was 49 Galleons a week, right? So in a month I would have. . .196 Galleons? How much were our bills? We lived in a Muggle house so we had to pay them in Muggle money, right? Or did the Ministry interfere and we had to pay in Wizarding Gold? I chewed on my bottom lip. It was all so overwhelming. I didn't have enough information and if I started questioning dad about bills he'd get suspicious.

I heard footsteps on the stairs and I flipped the book open to a new page with nothing on it and started jotting down a grocery list.

Once dinner was ready, I slipped the book back under the box and brought dinner out to Dad and a smaller plate for myself.

He looked at me, "You're not eating much anymore."

"I ate something else when I came home as well." I said. Technically, it was true, I'd had some grapes.

We ate in silence for a bit and then he said, "I have some bad news."

I bit my lip again. At this rate, I was going to make it bleed.

"The Ministry has stopped the classes a few weeks early." Dad said. So I was right, the classes were suppose to end in August.

"Of course." I said bitterly. "Stupid Ministry and their prejudices."

He smiled sadly. "I think you're the one who's a bit biased, don't you think? We are very dangerous creatures."

I scowled. He put a hand on my head and I leaned forward. He kissed my forehead and I felt that everything was going to be okay. We'd figure it out. He was my father after all. And he would always be around to take care of me.

⬅️ ➡️

[watatsumiis]

OMG HIII <3 and Congratulations 🥳 you deserve each and every one of them & more! Remember to take care of yourself and stay hydrated. Please do this event at your pace love.

Can I please request a prompt with Waka sama (Ayato the Yashiro rascal :3) with #7? Thank you before hand! 🧸🤍

Once again, congratulations for your milestone! 🫶🏻

Thank you so much !! :D You make sure to take care and stay hydrated too !!

This ask and answer are a part of my 200 follower event, which is still open and can be found here!

Rambling under the cut ! Mentions of an Ayato who is a little more... flirty than canon might suggest (and maybe a smidge more unhinged--)

Content warnings: Dark!Ayato (as in like. kinda evil adjacent.), mentions of manipulation, power imbalances and the like. A bit of romantic x reader towards the end. I'd say this borders into yandere!Ayato -

Disclaimer: I do not condone any of the depicted behaviour in real life, this is a fictional piece of work in a fictional setting with fictional characters. If you believe you or someone you know is being abused or mistreated, please reach out to someone for help.

So, I've been sitting on this prompt a couple of days, trying to figure out how I might approach it. It brought a few pretty interesting concepts to mind - I've had a Villain!Ayato AU fluttering around for a while, nothing fleshed out, but now is as good a time as any, no? This song gave me some neat inspiration for it that I hadn't super considered until now.

Imagine, if you will, an AU where Ayato never fully grew out of his delinquent phase, an AU where he's a little more suggestible when he's younger, a little more easily corrupted.

An Ayato who is fully aware of his good looks and charm, and is more than willing to go the extra mile and use them to get his way. Someone who grew up so rich and spoiled so rotten that it seeped all the way down to his core.

On the surface, he's as diplomatic and polite as ever, but behind the curtain he's a different man completely - showering the object(s) of his fixation in love and gifts and making sure they'll never have to lift a finger for anything (well, until he tires of them). He's downright cruel to those he sees as being beneath him, or those who are no longer of any use to him.

Those lilac eyes hold a detached, cold kind of malice, a pure disregard for the wants and needs of anybody other than himself (and perhaps his family, at a push - though who knows what would happen if they were to dare stand in his way).

If you're unlucky enough to catch his eye, plenty of people would say you should be flattered (he's a man who's got very specific taste, after all), but it's hard to feel anything but overwhelmed at the sudden bombardment of gifts and affections Ayato showers upon you - through a third party, of course. He wouldn't be caught dead outside of the Estate, there are far too many out there who are plotting his demise.

It's not an easy task, shaking the Yashiro Commissioner off of your back, especially now rumours say he's climbing his way up the ranks, usurping the bylaws to dig his claws into the last remaining thing that is holding the already crumbling country of Inazuma together. It's downright scary to know that he's got his sights set on you, of all people, and nobody else seems to really think much of it, he's always been this way, after all - demanding and conniving - and what Kamisato Ayato wants, he gets.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites (without credit+permission).

[dearestones]

[AC: Sexual assault.] If the theme isn't triggering for you, how do you think Yandere!Light would react to learning that the reader was raped?

Hey, Devin here!

This is the first time I've received an ask like this... I'll try to answer as respectfully and concisely as possible considering the subject content under the cut.

If you find fault or take issue with what I have brought up, please inform me. Sexual assault and rape are matters not to be taken lightly. However, I must also remind you that these are fictional characters and the one portrayed here is a yandere, which is already a red flag and should not be emulated in real life.

AGAIN

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone yandere behavior outside of fictional settings. Please don’t mistake the actions of fictional characters displayed in works of fiction to be considered harmless in real life.

Due to the themes in this post, I will be labelling it under 'Mature'.

Warnings: Sexual assault, rape, slight victim blaming, panic attacks, suicidal ideation, etc.

For purposes of this scenario, I will be using canon to illustrate Light's reaction.

I would also like to remind you that Light as a yandere emphasizes his ruthlessness and mercilessness. While canon Light may be softer and kinder in some respects (which would lead to a different reaction to the premise asked), Yandere! Light is a completely different beast with a different agenda.

Yandere! Light is definitely a person who would try to remain close to his preferred loved one as close as possible without dating them. This is to ensure that his loved ones aren't implicated when L starts to hone on him over the course of investigation and to keep them safe from Misa. (Remember, Misa shows signs of yandere trait when it comes to Light).

I wish I could say that Light would be ultimately sympathetic and comforting toward his significant other, but he will only play the part of someone who cares. On the inside, he's seething that there's a cockroach of a human being out there who thinks that they can get away with something as immoral and illegal as rape or sexual assault. Furthermore, he's not one to mince words when it comes to something as important and damaging as this situation.

He may not realize it, but he might say things like that maybe his significant other shouldn't have been so naive. Maybe they should have worn baggier clothing. Maybe they should have stayed with someone more capable.

Canon Light would have been far more sympathetic and wouldn't have said these things aloud.

Yandere! Light does not waste time asking the reader about their attacker's name, face, social media, and any other identifying characteristics. Since the reader is someone that Light cares about, he'll draw out the attacker's death to be as painful and horrifying as possible.

One of the rules of the Death Note state that the user can control a person for up to 23 days. During those 23 days, Light makes the attacker's life complete hell before ultimately killing them.

Scenario 1 (Reader knows that Light is Kira): Light tell his loved one that he killed their attacker. Soon after, he'll emotionally/psychologically manipulate them into staying by his side. Don't you see that because you weren't with Light that bad things happened? Light is a god and his will is just. Don't you want to serve your god by staying at his side? It seems like a small price for all the hell that Light had put the attacker through...

Scenario 2 (Reader does not know that Light is Kira): Light informs his significant other that the person who attacked them is dead. His manipulation to keep them at his side or at his beck and call is drawn out because he hasn't earned their trust as Kira yet. Instead, he'll draw into conversation about their experiences--the reader will never be able to heal from their experiences because Light ruthlessly keeps asking questions about it, never letting the issue die down. Light will break the reader down until they have no choice that they have to let Light have his way so that they can finally have peace.

If the reader experiences panic attacks, suicidal ideation, or any other symptoms of PTSD, Light will make sure that the reader has access to mental health professionals. He's still manipulative and is sort of... glad that the experience happened because it brought him and the reader closer, but he's not a complete monster. If he wants your mind broken and obedient only to him, it'll be by his hand.

In short, Yandere! Light can be kind on the surface. However, his every action concerning the reader his well thought out in advance. What seems to be the best course of action done in the reader's best interest is simply only a means to an end on Light's part.

The assault was an opportunity and Light took it, exploited it, and depending on the reader, will have benefited from it.

[studywgabi]

18th Birthday

I've been thinking that maybe I should just do it. All of it. Cheat on cappucinos, have a torrid affair with herbal tea. Exercise. Even 45-step skincare routines. Journal. "Practice gratitude." (Good God). Even if just to cross it off my list.

But I've never been that kind of person. Health is performative and foreign to me. It's almost frightening. I've always been too busy drowning to bother with trying to swim. I wouldn't even know how to go about being alive in a way that makes sense. But I am moving out soon (but not soon enough), so if there's a time to do it, it's now.

I mock health because I'm envious. I want to be a real person, but it's easier to romanticize pain by calling it being adorably messy or a work-in-progress. It's all I've ever known. I hate who I am.

Makeup isn't fun for me. Skincare isn't fun. Everything showers aren't my idea of a good time, or something I do to relax, or "me time." Trying to transform what has always been horrifically ugly into something passably presentable is work, yet another exhausting task to add to my never-ending to-do list. But besides all the expensive products and pressure, I need to start actually cooking real adult meals. I need to be less pathetic. I need to be kinder. I need to be honest. I need to read more. I need to watch more movies. I need to pet my dog more and spend more time with my parents and write more. I need to learn how to take care of myself.

But at this point, I'm not worth the effort. I just can't justify the work. I'm 18 and all of the stupid things old people tell me won't matter in a few years are my current lived, endured reality. Knowing I'll have different (probably worse) issues that even older people will belittle in a few years doesn't help me right now.

Yes, I care about silly high school milestones. I'm not going to be valedictorian. I failed and dropped several classes. I wasn't student body president. I've spent my whole life here and I'm so terrified I'll die here. I went to a regular public high school in Bumfuck, WA and I'm going to a public, in-state (of course) university (in an even smaller town) with a 98% acceptance rate, to major in something I don't believe in, I'm not interested in, and that will get me 28,000 a year. I'm not exceptional, or interesting, or good in any way. I have no talents; I've spent the past four years rotting in my bedroom with foil over the windows. And I'm not happy. School is my whole life; I don't have anything else going on. My main thrill in life is doing laundry. I'm not going to homecoming. I'm not going to prom. I'm still a virgin. I never drank. I never went to a party. I didn't use my time in high school wisely, nor did I have any fun. Sure, things could get better from now on. But my experiences up until this point are set in stone. I've aged out of so much. I've missed summer@brown. I've missed Washington Week. I've missed the national merit scholarship. I've missed friends. Boyfriends. I have nothing to show for my childhood. I don't know how to move on. I don't know how to get over what I lost. God, I hate how fucking whiny I sound complaining about nothing.

I guess I wish my parents wanted more for me, pushed me harder. I love them, but I can't condone their complete complacency. They're not disappointed in what I've become at all. They're so completely okay with my failure. I love them, but they don't hate me enough and that kills me.

I thought it fitting this post should be so fucking late. My birthday is January 30. I wish it was in August, so I could always be the youngest in my class (disgusting). It's just it all piles on together. Thanksgiving (freshman fifteen), fall quarter finals, Christmas, New Year's (and it's dreaded resolutions), birthday (an old biddy with cataracts and arthritis), and then, the cherry on top, fucking Valentine's Day.

God, I hate this girl. She's so annoying and stupid and pathetic. She talks about herself in the third person. It's because I want to distance myself as much as possible. Be not here and not this.

I want to be a teenage girl, just like everybody else. But I'm more of a middle-aged alcoholic man. I don't think being a mentally stable adult is in the cards for me, but I think it can get better than this. I hope it can.

Mmm. I'm getting notes of dirt and gasoline from this tea. Yummy. Cheers, darlings! Here's to being less shitty.

[disaster-j]

I'd like to add onto the "drunk/drugged" Porsche post you reblogged: Despite being under the influence, Porsche was still aware/in control enough to headbutt Vegas in order to try and make him stop. To me that's a big indicator that (as you and the OP suggested) Porsche's inhibitions when it comes to pursuing his own feelings are lowered, not that all of them are (as in, it's not like he wouldn't have any boundaries), and that he is very much aware of what's happening in the moment. He wouldn't have pushed Vegas away otherwise. But he did. Because he was aware it was Vegas and he absolutely did not want to have anything intimate with him at all. (If he was so "out of it," he wouldn't have "cared" about who the other person was or wouldn't even register that it was Vegas) Compare that to the way he behaved with Kinn, where he was the instigator. (just so we're clear, I agree that none of this would be even remotely ok irl, of course, but in this fictional setting with these particular fictional characters, it's not as dubious as some people want to claim imo)

Yep! The point of the scene is for Porsche's repressed sexual want for Kinn to bubble up while his walls are thoroughly down. If it were anyone else who was helping him in that scene nothing like that would have happened bc he hasn't been actively denying wanting anyone else. Ofc none of it would be okay in real life but it's not real life it's dark fiction so morality just doesn't come into play the same way. It'd be a completely different conversation if the show or the creators were trying to justify or romanticise what happens in the show, but they're not. The show is extremely self aware and knows that this story is dark, unhealthy and problematic and they don't condone any of it in real life anymore than you or I. It's dark media made for adult entertainment and nothing else. We shouldn't treat it more seriously than is warranted.

[seraphtrevs]

#it's genuinely baffling to me#that people like or dislike characters based on whether or not they'd be good people irl yes thank you! I've been consuming media for as long as I can remember. From video games, series to films of all kinds and was able to promote my critical thinking. I'm in the BCS and BrBa fandom and I've never been accused of being a bad person because I love Lalo, Gus, Walt, Jimmy, Nacho, Mike, etc. However, in the Stranger Things fandom... oh boy. I'll just say, that meme you reblogged recently is spot on let me tell you.

The Stranger Things fandom seems beyond toxic - I'm really sorry you've had to put up with that. Not to sound old (again), but this was never a problem when I first got involved with fandom. Everyone took for granted that of course villains would have fans, and of course it didn't mean the fans condoned evil in real life. Don't know how the line between fiction and reality got so blurry for a lot of people, but it's way more immoral to think harassment is righteous than it is to like the "wrong" character. I'm assuming a lot of these harassers will grow out of it eventually, but the damage they've done to their fellow fans (and actors and creators) is real and will linger.

I've always been a villain fan, ever since I was a kid. I'm beyond a goody-two shoes in real life, but there's something very fun about watching fictional characters flaunt society's rules and revel in their worst impulses. Plus lots of villains were (and are!) queer coded, which of course is ~problematic~, but it also explains why a lot of people are drawn to them. Without villains, there literally wouldn't be a plot. A flat, boring villain makes for a flat, boring story, so they're often the most exciting characters. And they almost always get defeated in the end anyway, so you think that would assuage the purity patrol as far as setting examples for the children. Alas.

Anyway, I stay far, far away from any fandom that centers around young characters or caters to an all-ages audience, because those fandoms seem to be the worse. (And also because I just don't have a lot of interest in characters who are under thirty anymore anyway adfkjs;dafj)

[wr1t3-my-wr0ngs]

Good Soldiers—Chapter 3/4

Remembering Yesterday’s Tomorrow (In the Here and Now)- Part 4 cont.

As much as Rex wants to move directly onto the next step in removing Krell, there is still a war that needs to be dealt with. Having Fives in his corner helps immensely as both a sounding board and support. It has taken a weight off his shoulders that he is infinitely glad he no longer has to shoulder alone. However, he had forgotten the specific brand of insanity that comes from working with his brothers, and while he is happy (among the other emotions that swirl dangerously close to the surface) to have them in his life again, it does, at times, make him wish his hair was longer so he could pull it out. Especially as he, Jesse, Tup, and Hardcase listen to Fives' infiltration plan.

"You want to what?"

He knows his plan to deal with Krell isn't perfect, but he hopes beyond all sense of reason that it's better then what he just heard Fives suggest.

"Have the men and myself fly the Umbaran craft into the supply ship and blow up the main reactor."

Last time, he hadn't asked for details. The thinking being he couldn't report what he didn't know. If this was the same plan that Fives had used to take down the supply ship, Rex knows why it went so horribly wrong.

"You are aware that General Skywalker was already one of the best pilots in the galaxy at that time? And that most of it was an accident?"

His brother looks sheepish. From his perch atop a table, Rex pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. Despite knowing the answer, he asks his next question anyway.

"How many men are you planning to take up?"

"It would be us three, Sir."

Rex looks at Jesse who has momentarily looked up from cleaning his blaster to indicate Fives, Hardcase, and himself. The Captain unconsciously brings a hand up to stroke a beard that isn't there, thinking over the specifics that he was privy to the first time around — regretting his lack of involvement and the subsequent lack of information.

“If you have a better plan, we’re all ears.”

He thinks of Ahsoka, of her uncanny ability (force given or natural, he never knew) to plan on the fly. To take a pile of unknowns and somehow rearrange them until they created actionable intel. There was a reason she was one of the leaders of the Rebellion, and he, her right-hand-man.

But she's not here. Surrounded by a room of living ghosts, the only thing he has of her is his ring and the memories of advice they had shared. One in particular whispers across his mind.

Work with what you know.

So that’s what he does.

He thinks about the Separatist ships he's been on. The narrow passages designed for droids and not much else. Considers the size and challenges of the Umbaran crafts. Three would be a tight squeeze and tricky to maneuver in such a limited space, even with the best of pilots, never mind when operated by foot soldiers who considered demolishing a hanger a successful test run.

"Send only one pilot."

"Without backup?"

Tups concern is valid, a brother without backup was always a dangerous thing, for the mission and the soldier both. But he doesn't have a better plan, not one that would work with their limited number of men, resources, and time. He can only pray that what he can change will be enough.

Rex leaves that part out when he explains his thinking, although Fives gives him a brief side-eye. He watches as each man mulls over the idea, weighs the pros and the cons, considers their part.

"I'll do it."

His heart sinks.

"The Captains right, and I have the most experience with the tech."

"Hardcase, " He isn't sure what to say without giving himself away to everyone in the room. When he had first woken and started putting together his plan, he had considered that there may be things he couldn’t change, couldn’t make right. Hardcase it would seem, is one of those things. A knot of emotion catches in his chest as he considers the very real possibility of watching his brother's death a second time over. Eventually, he settles on the only question available to him.

“Are you sure?”

His brother squares his shoulders, easy-going manner set aside.

“I am, Captain.”

The room is silent for a moment, heavy with the knowledge that this very well may end up a suicide mission.

"What about—"

At that moment the doors to the barracks open, cutting Jesse off mid-sentence, revealing Dogma, head bent over a datapad and lips silently moving.

The collective group freezes, including Dogma who seems to realize he has the full attention of everyone in the room. His head snaps up and eyes go wide, jaw clicking shut, and for a second Rex thinks he can see fear in his brother's eyes. But his time to observe is limited, as Dogma, without so much as a word, about faces and leaves the room with the speed of a man being chased by cannon fire.

The group exchange glances and all Rex can do is shrug at the inquiring look Fives sends his way, just as stumped by his brothers behavior as the rest of them. He had expected suspicion and anger, or even the cold shoulder. Those he could understand, but fear?

He shakes himself internally. His concerns about Dogma hardly the top of his priorities at the moment.

"What about Krell?" Jesse repeats, looking between Fives and Rex in equal measure.

"We need a Jedi."

Hardcase scoffs and crosses his arms.

"Yeah, I don't know if you noticed Captain, but they're in short supply."

"I'm just saying that his ability to receive transmissions with new orders is awfully convenient, considering they're supposed to be being jammed."

Jesse looks up from cleaning his blaster with a critical eye.

"You think he's lying about communications with the 212th?"

Rex nods.

"It's a possibility. And it won't hurt to try and get General Kenobi here to assist."

"I think, " Tup starts slowly. "That I might be able to convince a few of the men to try and establish contact against orders. No promises, though."

Rex looks over to Fives, who nods in agreement.

"That's all we can ask for Tup."

Tup inclines his head at the ARC Trooper.

"And what if, and that's a karking large if mind you, we can't get the General to assist?"

Rex sighs.

"Plan B and prey."

----

Dogma was acting strange.

Usually, Tup wouldn't have paid much attention to his brother's odd habits. But he had never seen him that upset before or that close to exchanging blows with another brother. He understands Dogma's anger; he does. Is still reeling from the implications himself, even though nothing he heard really surprised him when he thought about it. But he also understands, as best as he can understand his brother, why it would affect Dogma more than the rest. He’s aware that he is the closest to Dogma, one of the few Vod��e who took the time to get to know the tightly wound trooper. And as a result, is far more used to the quirks of behavior than most and has learned to read Dogma with some degree of accuracy.

But he’s not sure what to make of his brother's recent behavior; walking into rooms, only to turn back around when he spots any of them, constantly reading at every available opportunity. Not that Dogma hadn’t done his share of recreational reading, but this was something different. The few times Tup had found him in the past hours, Dogma seemed to be enthralled, reading as if his life depended on it.

And now he is missing from his bunk.

It feels like avoidance, but never in his short life has Tup known Dogma to do anything less than face a problem head-on.

It concerns him, for Dogmas sake. His one consolation being that he knows his brother would ask for help if he needed it.

Whatever it is Dogma is up to, he only hopes it won't cause a problem for the Captain.

-----

Watching the sky for the impending destruction of the Separatist ship is by far the tensest twenty minutes of Rex’s life, and he intends to spend them with his eyes glued to the sky as if he might be able to see the raging space battle and the one small ship that contains his brother if he looks hard enough. Futile, he knows, but it's all he can do. The troops mill around him, coming and going at their own paces, running information back to the main tower, or just enjoying what rest they can in the middle of a war zone. At some point, Fives joins him.

"Any word?"

"Not yet, Captain."

"Any sign that Krell suspects?"

Fives shakes his head.

"No, Sir. I don't know what you told him about the takeoff, but he doesn't seem suspicious."

Rex didn't expect he would be, since he's almost certain that Krell knows what they are doing despite the lie Rex had fed him. Suspects that Krell knew the first time too, and that everything that followed was designed to torture himself and the men as much as possible.

They laps into silence and Rex returns his focus to the sky.

"Permission to ask a question?"

Rex glances at his brother, gauging the request.

"Granted."

"How did this mission go, last time?"

Fives is looking at him, but Rex can't meet his eyes and hopes that his brother will let the topic go with a simple answer.

"It was a success,"

"Rex, " The plea is soft, and it strikes him how much younger his brother is; the gap between them able to be measured in decades instead of a few years. Aware that behind the bravado and the swagger, Fives is as scared as Rex, wondering if he just sent his brother to his death.

He's hesitant to talk about it, the memories from Umbara old wounds that never fully healed. The sound of distant artillery and shelling only hammers home the futility of attempting to avoid them.

"I wasn't as involved last time, didn't really condone the course of action. I don't know what went wrong exactly, but from what I gathered something happened to sound the alarm, and the Seppies raised the ray shield around the main reactor. It had to be detonated by hand."

"Which brother...?"

"Hardcase."

The inhale of breath is sharp, and its what makes Rex finally look at his vod'ika, sees the pain in his eyes.

"Fives, I'm sorry."

"He knows the risks."

Rex isn't sure who the phrase is trying to console, Fives, or himself. He reaches out a hand to the back of his brother's neck, gently bringing their foreheads together. He can feel his little brother tremble ever so slightly under his touch, and he gives what he hopes is a comforting squeeze. They stay like that until the Captain feels the ARC Troopers breathing even out. When he pulls away Fives looks better, less shaken, and although his grin isn't as large as normal, it's still there. (He marks it down in a new column in his heart, right next to Ahsoka's smiles and laughter, counting it as a small victory against a war that's designed to cause as much misery as possible).

"Thanks, Gramps."

Despite himself, he laughs. Perhaps, he thinks, the nickname isn't so bad if it brings a little joy.

He's about to respond, when a flash of light overhead draws their attention; Bright orange and yellow that bleeds through the dark clouds. Hardcase did it. But he doesn't let himself relax, not yet, because for all the changes made, he still doesn't know if he changed enough.

His heart pounds in his ears and he's fairly certain that he's forgotten to breathe. The seconds tick by, each one seemingly longer than the last. Beside him, Fives is tense; eyes also fixed to the sky, waiting and watching.

The relief that foods him when he spots the speck of light approaching is indescribable. However, it quickly fades when he notices the erratic flight, the way the ship lists dangerously to one side, and (when it gets closer) the sparks that trial behind it.

The landing, if it can be called that, is rough, and when the shield comes down, Rex is there ready to catch his brother if need be. It's a good thing too, as Hardcase tumbles from the seat, blood leaking from under his helmet. It takes a matter of moments to find the pulse at his brother's neck and only then does Rex breathe. Unconscious, but miraculously alive.

Boots on the pavement prompt him and Fives to look up.

"The General requests your presence."

---

Knowing the execution order is coming doesn't make it any easier to hear or make him want to strangle the fallen Jedi any less. Especially as Hardcase, barley able to stand from what Rex strongly suspects is a concussion, has to be assisted to his mark.

“Do the prisoners request blindfolds?”

Tup looks disturbed to even be asking the question, and Rex’s heart goes out to him. No brother should have to face killing their own family.

Not right.

He has to check again to be sure he isn't imagining it, but no, it is Tup at the firing line.

Fives has begun speaking, but Rex doesn’t pay attention, too busy doing a headcount, grateful for the lack of helmets obscuring faces. He does it again, just to be sure.

Dogma isn't there.

Distantly, he's aware that Fives speech is winding to a close, but only just. Too busy running over the possibilities, the implications, and drawing a blank.

The sound of blaster fire draws his attention violently back to the present, and he is no less relieved to see that the firing squad had come to the same conclusion as before.

Fives glares at him as he walks up.

"A warning would have been nice." The ARC trooper hisses under his breath.

"And miss that speech? Look at them Fives, " he surreptitiously gestures to the men as he begins undoing the binders. "Sometimes we forget that we're more than walking numbers, especially under men like Krell. They needed to hear that."

The binders come off with a click, and Fives rubs his wrists.

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because I needed to hear it."

The ARC Trooper looks at the Captain for a moment, eventually nodding his head in acceptance.

"Besides, " Rex cocks an eyebrow, "I thought you didn't believe me?"

Fives punches him in the arm.

---

To say that Krell is displeased at the news of the failed execution would be an understatement. The fallen Jedi is livid, and standing before him held in a fourhanded grip, forced to look up to meet the massive force users gaze, Rex is reminded of standing up against the Imperial AT-AT on Seelos, just him, Gregor, and Wolffe; Easily uncrushable and very small.

“You are making a mistake by crossing me clone.”

It is fortunate then, that he isn't immune from the insanity that plagues his brothers, and that his tolerance for disrespect dwindled significantly with age.

“Its Captain.”

The lack of ‘Sir’ does not go unnoticed, and Krell’s grip on his arms tightens to the point of bruising. Rex does not look away. Neither does Krell, not even as a trooper relays the incoming transmission.

Rex is aware that were they alone, Krell would drop all pretenses of being a General. When the Besalisk does let go, it's accompanied by a shove and despite his best efforts, Rex stumbles.

“Lock the traitors in the brig. You have your stay of execution, Captain.”

The way Krell says his title slides like ice down Rex’s spine and leaves a rancid taste in his mouth.

“We take the Capitol now.”

---

The battle passes in a blur and by the time its over, he's shaken to his core. The reality of it so much worse than the nightmares ever were. Worse because he can still taste the ion trace from the blasters that lingers in the air, the screams of his brothers ringing to loud in his ears. Unable to console himself with the knowledge that it was just a dream.

The blood caked into his blacks.

He's only one man he tries to remind himself, only one man against a tide of destruction and death. He can't change everything.

Intellectually he knows its not his fault — that it's Krell and Krell alone that is responsible for every life lost in this sector of the planet.

It doesn't help, knowing that the battle - the loss- was designed to be a form of torture, not when it worked so well. Not when he still blames himself—his orders for the troops to not wear their helmets into battle being too little, too late, with far too many brothers dead by friendly fire.

Blames himself for every brother lost.

For Waxer.

His fists clench in a mix of rage and sorrow, before pulling himself back to present. They have minutes left before they go to confront Krell, and he needs to focus as they go over the plan one last time. The prison is hardly private, but at this point, discretion no longer matters. He knows that every brother, not just the little band he has assembled, will stand with him.

"I still say we should just kill him."

By rights, Hardcase shouldn't even be out of medical, but Rex strongly suspects that only death would have kept him from joining the fight against Krell at this point.

He shakes his head.

"And I'm right there beside you Vod, but unless we want to end up shipped back to Kamino for reconditioning, we need-"

"Evidence."

All four heads whip around. There, standing in the door to the cell, looking haggard and broken is Dogma. No one says a word as he makes his way toward the group and silently extends a datastick, hands trembling.

"I couldn't get what you said out of my mind." He addresses Rex. "About how things didn't add up. So I read his reports, ran the numbers. You were right."

His face is stony, but in his eyes, Rex can see the betrayal, the anger, the overwhelming sense of loss that comes from having ones whole world come undone around them.

"He didn't even hide it."

Ah, he read those reports. Brutal and full of plain language detailing his choices. The kind of reports where it didn't make sense how they could have gone without being flagged, not until Rex had learned the truth about Palpatine, just one of the many puzzle pieces that fell into place. Rex carefully takes the datastick.

“How do I help?”

He looks from Dogma to the cylindrical tube. Evidence, he had said.

"Is this what I think it is?"

Dogma nods.

"Every file, every report, every statistic." His smile is a wry, bitter thing. Sharp and self-deprecating, edged with the anger of a man who will never again be played for a fool. "It's amazing what you can get access to when someone thinks you're in their back pocket."

Then they have all the evidence they need.

"Tup, any word from the 212th?"

"No, Captain."

His frustration slips past his lips as a growl and he rapidly does the mental calculations, handing the datastick back to the tattooed Trooper.

"Dogma, get this to General Kenobi. I don't care how or who you have to go through to get it to him, but it's for his eyes only. Understand?"

The Trooper salutes, new purpose lending strength to his bearing, and as he barks out a "Yes, Sir!" he almost looks like the Dogma Rex remembers from the start of the campaign.

He looks around the cell at his brothers, fully kitted and armed, faces set with grim determination.

"Alright, men: Plan B."

[moderngirlinthedas]

Why are there so many MGIT fics that have their MGITs paired with Solas? He's an emotionally abusive racist with a superiority complex, yet so many in the fandom find him attractive. He barely registers Dalish as elves so he wouldn't find human MGITs attractive or even consider them real people. So why do so many of you want to pair off with him? It wouldn't be a healthy relationship, even if you end up as an elf. Can you shed some light?

First, I want to say that I’m extremely sorry for how long it took me to answer this.

I had so many directions I wanted to take when answering your question, Anon (far too many, really). I started and stopped many times in a separate word doc, trying to address this in as complete a manner as I could.

But I had too much to say, real life responsibilities got in the way, and suddenly it had been so long that my brain went yikes and shoved it in the back of my thoughts, ever present but easier to skip over.

So I’m going to give this a new shot and hope that my tardiness hasn’t soured you on the whole Asking process because I do love answering questions and opening topics for discussion.

[Disclaimer: The following is an expression of my own opinion, based on my experiences and perception. I will try to present it in an unbiased manner, but I am human and entirely fallible.] 

There are so many MGIT stories with Solas in the main pairing because, to put it simply, he is a fascinating character. (Note: I say fascinating, not morally infallible or intrinsically superior to the other characters).

He is an intelligent, compassionate character who offers a refreshing perspective toward mages, the Fade, and spirits. From the very beginning, he proves to be a font of knowledge for the Inquisitor. He appreciates inquisitiveness and self-examination in a way that is scarcely seen elsewhere.

And yet.

For all his open-mindedness, he can be exceedingly narrow in his views once he has reached a conclusion (i.e. the Dalish, other elves, etc.). He has made mistakes. Catastrophic ones. He believes the ends justify the means in his quest to “correct” his past mistakes. Worse still, he has the knowledge and power to deliver.

And this, all of this just makes him so fascinating. To see what could drive an intelligent, compassionate person to such terrible lengths, to see the limits of such compassion when “the Greater Good” is at stake.

His character is interesting and flawed, repentant even as he manipulates and schemes. A hero and a villain in turns.

But perhaps I’m getting sidetracked. This isn’t about proving why Solas is interesting or dissecting his flaws. That would be another post entirely. This is about why so many of the MGIT writers and their Modern Characters are interested in Solas.

So, let’s take a look at who Solas is:

someone who is from another time

someone who possesses and withholds knowledge about the world, magic, and etc.

someone who struggles with the relative ignorance of the people around him (ex: magic, spirits, ancient Elven society, etc.)

someone who struggles with feeling more “real” than the people around him

someone who attains a position of power/rank in the Inquisition as a valued source of knowledge

someone who uses hidden knowledge to alter events

Now, who else does this sound like?

The Modern Character in Thedas.

Think about it: this trope, particularly when anchored in the Inquisition timeline, tends to feature these key elements:

the Modern Character is from another world/time

the Modern Character has played the Dragon Age games and withholds knowledge about in-game events (and other characters)

the Modern Character struggles with the relative ignorance of the people around her (ex: racism, sexism, unsanitary practices, primitive technology) 

the Modern Character struggles with feeling more “real” than the people around her, in the sense that she is often painfully aware that Dragon Age and the people therein are constructs of a game or potentially figments of her imagination in a coma-induced dream

the Modern Character attains a position of power/rank in the Inquisition, usually as the Inquisitor herself or as a valued adviser

the Modern Character uses their foreknowledge to alter events

Barring some exceptions, Foreknowledge and how one uses it, is one of the biggest themes in the Modern Character in Thedas trope.

Using foreknowledge to alter events, however good the intentions, is a form of manipulation. Every choice is but a ripple in a greater wave. Inaction is a choice in itself, so even if the Modern Character refrains from actively altering events, they can still be held accountable for “allowing” events to proceed unimpeded.

These are real struggles that both the Modern Character and Solas face as people who possess world-changing knowledge and the ability to spark change.

“When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t…and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.” -Peter Parker

Does this ability always yield altruistic superheroes like Peter Parker here? No. With great power comes great responsibility, not necessarily good choices or a moral compass.

So why is this important?

Because with so much power, forced to hide their origins in a new world that fears and often hates the different, the magical, how alone would the Modern Character feel?

Who else could understand what it’s like to bear that kind of burden? Who else might be willing to even entertain the idea of another world/reality, much less accept someone so different?

Solas.

The Modern Character is playing chess on a whole other board than the rest of Thedas, but so is Solas.

It’s not the same, of course. But it’s enough. Enough to help the Modern Character not feel so alone.

And if that’s not enough, consider this: if you were stuck in another world, desperate to find a way home, who might just have the means to help you?

Phew. That was long-winded.

Now for your questions about attraction!

“He barely registers Dalish as elves so he wouldn’t find human MGITs attractive or even consider them real people. So why do so many of you want to pair off with him?”

It is my understanding that one of the main reasons (if not the only reason) Solas is both gender and race-gated in the game is due to time constraints. His romance was written in the span of a weekend, late in the development of the game. It is easier and less time consuming to write and animate a romance for one specific gender/race (i.e. female/elf), especially for a last minute addition.

There aren’t any moments during in-game dialogue wherein which Solas displays a genuine romantic or sexual preference for a particular gender or race. The flirt options simply aren’t there when the player isn’t a female elf.

This is important to note because this is not the case for the other characters’ romances. Both Dorian and Sera express a genuine romantic/sexual preference for one gender. You have the option to flirt with both Dorian and Cassandra as a female. They both turn you down. You have the option to flirt with both Sera and Cullen as a male. They both turn you down. Cullen, who is also race-gated, will turn down a female-dwarf.

So, in the absence of in-game dialogue that denotes an actual preference, it isn’t unreasonable to think he might not have one.

And thus, it is entirely possible that Solas would find a human from another world romantically and/or sexually attractive.

On the Subject of Realness:

Solas’s perception of “realness” is relative to the people of Thedas. 

[And here we get a little meta]

He considers the people in the present canon to be less real, due to the fact that his actions in his original timeline (the canon’s past) had, in part, caused the current worldstate, which he views as not only a mistake, but a mistake he’s going to rectify.

The people of Thedas, in the present canon, are less real to him because he likely has plans to revert the world back to a previous state, thus erasing the people in the current timeline (much like the Inquisitor does with the Red Lyrium future in the “In Hushed Whispers” quest).

So! Since the Modern Character isn’t a native to Thedas, that perception of “unrealness” doesn’t really apply to them. In fact, in some ways, Solas might even perceive them as more real, if not just as real as himself.

“It wouldn’t be a healthy relationship, even if you end up as an elf.”

How healthy or unhealthy a relationship is depends entirely upon the characters themselves and the way they’re written/portrayed. There’s nothing intrinsically unhealthy about the pairing of the Modern Character and Solas.

Now, if Solas or the Modern Character are depicted as emotionally and/or physically abusive to the other, then you’d be right, it wouldn’t be a healthy relationship.

Not because of who they are, but because of their behavior.

So, to sum up–because I have rambled so much here, wow–

Why are there so many Modern Character/Solas stories?

because Solas is a fascinating, flawed character

because Solas’s experience makes him relatable to the Modern Character

because Solas could make a good ally for an Otherworlder

because arbitrary game mechanics shouldn’t dictate a character’s love life

because “realness” is relative

because the pairing of Solas and a human isn’t inherently unhealthy

And the bonus: Because the Solas romance was extremely popular among Dragon Age gamers, and many of those gamers set out to write a story

And there we have it. The end of a long-winded spiel from me. 

I hope I kept things relatively objective. I appreciate dissecting characters’ motives and exploring their flaws, even when I love them.

You can love or hate Solas (or something in between) and still note his flaws…as well as recognize his more redeeming qualities.

And always remember: to love a character is not to condone all their actions.