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aledmorningstar · 8 months ago

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╰┈➤Misunderstood

Summary: How the gang finds out about Sukuna's girlfriend in a misunderstanding.

Relationship: Ryomen Sukuna/Reader

Word count: 3.0k

Note: I'm a liar, I know I said this would go up yesterday, in my defense we set very optimistic goals. Please comment and feel free to send me anything to my inbox

-‘๑’-: No curses au, uni au, sfw, humor, fluff, bad english

The house of the twins Yuji and Ryomen seemed more lively than normal, as every weekend they had planned a movie afternoon, the meetings began early after leaving school, buying snacks, preparing comfortable clothes and choosing some games of table.

Yuji's face wrinkled into a displeased grimace at seeing his twin dressing casually to go out for a walk down the street, while he and his friends were already prepared wearing their comical pajamas, it wasn't fair. This time it was Yuji's turn to choose the movie so as not to let his brother get away with it.

“What are you doing?”

Sukuna turned to look for a second indifferently at his brother while he finished fastening the buttons of his dark shirt. How could he take seriously his brother who maintained an irritated pout while wearing those ridiculous tiger-themed full-body pajamas?

"I'm going out, tell mom I'll be late"

Yuji's moan of annoyance echoed throughout the house, drawing the attention of Nobara and Megumi who were stealthily trying to spy on the conversation by hiding behind a wall.

"You said you would watch Human Worm 4 with us today!"

The one with the caramel eyes began to complain about the injustice that was occurring, a perfect time for his faithful friends to take action.

“We already prepared everything, you can't leave us stranded for an afternoon of movies!”

Nobara grumbled as she tried to fix the sleeves of her raccoon pajamas.

"We made a pact, you must suffer with us"

Megumi was supposed to be the most mature of the group, perhaps Sukuna had overestimated him because he never imagined seeing him share the same neuron as his friends while also wearing ridiculous beige dog pajamas.

“It's a shame brats, it'll have to be another day.”

The older twin's hands didn't stop moving trying to find the car keys; he had somehow managed to look appropriately with a hint of elegance, but without losing that menacing aura, a pair of black pants held up by an expensive belt that he had stolen from his father, a dark gray shirt with the first few buttons open showing his collarbones and the sleeves perfectly arranged at his elbows showing his tattooed arms.

"You look like a criminal"

“Who said I'm not?”

Itadori's intentions to plant some blame on his brother for abandoning them on a seemingly important night were noticeable for miles.

"At least have the decency to tell me where the hell you're going."

Sukuna took a while to respond, his eyes straying suspiciously and the trio could see a slight nervousness on his face. Wait, nerves? Sukuna? Those words were naturally contrary, it even seemed strange to put them together in one sentence. Here was definitely another shoe that was taking a while to drop.

"Mind your own business, don't be nosy"

Itadori instantly stood between his brother and the front door, blocking his way, he would get to the bottom of this matter at any cost.

"Are you planning something bad? Mom will be angry if you get into trouble again"

"Yes, yes, yes. I plan to do many bad and illegal things, in fact in this mood I plan to strangle the first person in front of me"

Itadori, Nobara, and Megumi looked at each other before leaving the hallway clear, letting Sukuna walk.

"Behave badly, take good care of yourself and if they discover you, deny everything"

“See you”

Once the so-called evil twin left the house, the hallway was completely silent for a few seconds.

“Don't you feel...? Curiosity?"

An excited Nobara looked at her friends with bright, gossip-hungry eyes.

"No not really"

Megumi's voice was ignored as Itadori pushed the Fushiguro boy's face away with his hand.

"I was hoping you'd ask, Nobara! In fact, my brother has been acting strange lately."

Itadori put on a thoughtful expression as he remembered his brother's unusual behavior in recent weeks.

"What do you mean he's been acting strange?"

At that moment Nobara had taken on a detective attitude, while the previously disinterested Megumi began to listen attentively to his friends.

“He's been coming home late, more than usual.”

“That doesn't seem strange for someone like him.”

An exalted Itadori raises his hands dramatically as he defends his argument.

“But when he is usually late it is always because he is causing problems in the streets and he is not at all careful with his arrival, now it is different!”

Sharing a room with Itadori, Sukuna didn't care how scandalous he could be when he showed up at home after curfew. He didn't pay attention to the fact that the noise of his shoes being thrown to any side of the room or that the sound of his swear words every time he tripped over something could disturb his brother's sleep.

Lately, however, the nights that Sukuna had spent late away from home had become more frequent, and Itadori couldn't help but notice even in the dead of night how messy his twin's clothes were every time he returned with silent footsteps and he also did not overlook the large number of marks that stood out on Sukuna's neck.

“Also, he has been trying hard in all his school subjects, he has turned in all his homework and sometimes he goes out to the library to study. Did you hear what I said? He goes to the library to study!”

“That's definitely not the Sukuna we know, something is happening to him.”

The three teenagers headed to the living room to sit down to discuss more calmly and solve that mystery.

“Do you think someone is bullying him?”

Itadori looked worried for a split second at Nobara's statement until Megumi gave him a strange, brief sarcastic smile.

“Are you serious right now? Do you think Sukuna, the most feared man on campus, could be bothered by someone? Jesus Christ even earned the nickname “The King of Curses”

They didn't need much time to agree with Megumi, it was impossible to imagine Sukuna being submissive to anyone.

“True, it would make more sense for him to be the one who bothered someone… It can't be possible”

“I told him clearly not to get into trouble, but he never listens to me!”

“Wait, Yuji, calm down. Don't you think that if that's the case, he's spending too much time on that person?”

Itadori seemed to think about it for a second and his face transformed into one of much more dramatic horror than before.

"So he really hates that person! Maybe he's planning a murder? Your brother isn't exactly known for being patient"

Nobara's words were the little push Itadori needed to panic.

"Sukuna definitely can't go to the correctional facility again!... Mom was very sad back then..."

Nobara and Megumi looked into each other's eyes, unable to abandon their friend in such a situation.

"Fine! Our mission today is to prevent your brother from becoming a criminal.”

"Are we allowed to use force? I still have to get revenge for the books I lent him."

The brown-haired girl, Kugisaki, was the first to stand up and was followed by Fushiguro. It seemed like a scene worthy of a movie, this was the motivational part because both friends extended their hands to the boy in tiger pajamas.

“Wait, wait, wait… What happened to your books?”

“I'll ask your brother when I see him.”

It had been approximately 30 minutes since the trio of friends had located and followed Sukuna, a difficult mission that had begun with the friends running after the older twin's car. The fatigue was overcome by surprise when seeing the target enter a flower shop.

“We're late, he's already planning the funeral!”

“Wait, give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe… Maybe he's going to visit a friend?”

“Impossible, my brother has no friends”

Nobara and Yuji's brief talk was interrupted when they saw Sukuna leaving that flower shop with a huge and pretty bouquet of yellow carnations.

"You see it? Maybe your brother is not as bad as he seems” Nobara's voice tried to be optimistic, and it also seemed strange to her that a man would buy flowers for no apparent reason.

“Now I'm quite confused” Itadori, for his part, narrowed his eyes, staring at Sukuna, trying to read his brother's mind.

Megumi spoke with a stiff voice drawing the attention of his friends.

"Don't be so surprised, in the language of flowers, carnations of that color mean contempt"

"Is he turning his assassination attempt into a performance? He's getting creative"

"Hey, he's leaving. Hurry up"

The gang quickly got into a taxi and like every chase scene, Itadori and Nobara yelled at the driver to follow the car in front of them, Megumi had to apologize to the driver at the end of the ride.

Sukuna drove his car until he reached the darkest and most dangerous neighborhood that anyone could imagine, clearly that place had an invisible sign indicating that it was better not to be there, there were few passers-by and the streets were cold with graffiti everywhere.

The older twin got out of his car after having entered the area a little, he walked as if that place was his territory, as if he felt at home, he adjusted the sleeves of his shirt, raising them to his elbows, with a bored look he observed the time on his watch and then leaned his back against the wall waiting patiently. Meanwhile, the trio had remained hidden behind a pile of boxes and seemingly useless objects, thinking about Ryomen's intentions.

"There isn't a soul in this place, what is he planning to do?"

Itadori's question was answered when Megumi held his jaw making him look to his right, his eyes widened as he saw a girl with a small frame, transmitting an aura of delicacy and fragility, she was the complete stereotype of a little princess wearing a pink dress and white sneakers, light makeup and a flower crown adorning her hair, she looked out of context walking with a smile and humming a song in that horrible alley.

"It can't be her... There's no way Sukuna..."

Nobara's words were cut off when the red-eyed man put out his cigarette and walked over to where the girl was with a proud smile on his face.

The fear that this small, fragile woman could be hurt by his violent brother made Itadori quickly get up from his hiding place and stand in front of his brother.

"Sukuna! Stop right there, don't do it!"

The sudden entrance of his nosy brother surprised Sukuna who maintained a displeased scowl at his twin's actions.

"What the fuck? Get out of the way brat, I'm on something important right now"

"Don't you dare take another step, don't do something you'll regret!"

Itadori's voice took a drastic change, sounding too threatening compared to his usual cheerful tone.

"What the hell are you talking about? Leave me alone, I don't have time for this."

Sukuna looked at the horrified girl who was just a few meters away from him, he pushed his brother away with one hand with the intention of walking towards where she was, however he was stopped and subdued on the ground by Megumi.

“Don't even try it, you disgusting scoundrel.”

“Leave me alone, you fucking bastards!”

While the three men argued and fought among themselves, Nobara also came out of her hiding place and walked towards the frightened woman, being careful not to exalt her even more, Kugisaki placed his hands on her shoulders trying to calm her down.

"Are you okay? “Did he do something to you?”

The girl's hands remained covering her mouth, completely surprised by the situation. She instantly left Nobara and ran quickly to where Sukuna was lying on the ground.

"What are you doing?! Get your hands off him!"

Megumi and Itadori's movements stopped, still holding Sukuna on the ground, they turned to look completely surprised at the owner of that little voice, their minds went blank as they watched her approach, she put her hands on Fushiguro's chest. making an attempt to push him away from the red-eyed twin.

"What are you doing to my boyfriend?! Leave him alone!"

Still bewildered, Itadori was the first to move away and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder for him to do the same, allowing Sukuna to stand up a little dazed.

"I don't know what 'Kuna did to you, but what you are doing is not right, it is not right to intimidate others, problems are solved by talking"

You stood in front of your boyfriend trying to be the one to defend him this time, you used to be a little shy when talking to strangers, but you weren't going to let your lover be the victim of such an unfair situation.

"Honey, calm down. They are—"

"No, love! They were very mean to you, no matter who they are!"

You knew that Sukuna had a special weakness for you that made him want to protect you from any danger, everyone told you that, obviously he would also want to take control of this situation in his hands. No, this time it was your turn to protect him, to be his knight in shining armor.

On the other hand, there were also the three idiots who had tried to play detective, watching the situation in astonishment.

"She... just called him love"

“Yes, she really did”

"I can't believe it"

Ryomen had tried to calm his girlfriend's little anger by taking her hands and caressing them, it worked for a few seconds until that trio spoke again.

Upon hearing the incredulous voices of those strangers, you let go of Sukuna's hands and walked a few steps close to those you thought were criminals.

"Listen, my parents are very important people, I will make sure you are punished appropriately"

Your acute and sweet angry voice was silenced by Sukuna's lips, one of his large hands finding a place on your waist while the other caressed your soft cheek.

"It's okay, princess"

"No, it's not okay-"

You tried to reply to his deep voice, you would be lying if you said it didn't make you shiver, his voice was only directed at you, only for you to hear, that made you calm down and also lowered the tone of your voice.

"Pretty, this is my stupid brother and his friends."

"...Impossible, it can't be…, they were subduing you"

"Don't worry, I'm sure they have a good explanation for doing all this, right?"

The affectionate look that Sukuna had given his supposed girlfriend had changed drastically when he turned to look at his friends, removed his touch from his beloved and walked towards the frightened trio, cracking the fingers of his fists.

"Last words?"

Approximately 10 minutes had passed after that disastrous encounter, Sukuna had considered himself generous that day so he decided to take his brother and his friends to the house where they should have stayed from the beginning, very kind, it had nothing to do with his girlfriend will look at those three idiots like abandoned puppies.

"How were we supposed to know you were visiting your girlfriend?"

"What kind of dates are you taking her on?"

"Yeah, you looked like you were about to commit a crime!"

Of course Itadori, Megumi and Nobara tested their patience throughout the car ride, complaining from the back seats and trying to alleviate the pain caused by the car owner's blows. Your curious little eyes turned to look at the trio with intrigue.

"Why do you say that?"

None of them knew how to answer your question, the answer was so obvious that they thought you were stupid or blind, of course none of them said that thought out loud, not when they felt Sukuna's psychopathic gaze in the rearview mirror. However, that didn't stop Yuji from continuing the conversation either.

"You were alone in that horrible and dangerous place, it is the perfect opportunity for a madman"

"Oh, that..."

Your calm reaction to that comment only confused them more, you were too sweet to be in those places and even worse to be there with Sukuna for no good reason.

"Her parents are renowned people and they do not agree with our relationship, that is why we must meet in the most discreet places possible"

"Sometimes dad hires people to watch me, so our meeting point for dates is that place."

The older twin's words left the dynamic trio thinking, especially Itadori and Nobara, Megumi didn't really care much, your complementation made them imagine a current version of Romeo and Juliet. The explanations of your strange relationship had clarified most of his doubts regarding the strange day.

"Wait, what about the flowers?"

Nobara's comment made all the attention focus on Ryomen who wrinkled his face in confusion until he remembered the detail that his friend was talking about at the same time that he stopped the car in front of his house.

"What flowers?"

"Oh right, I brought you something"

Sukuna got out of the car and went to the back taking something out of the trunk, a nice big bouquet of flowers appeared in front of you held by your handsome boyfriend.

"Oh, honey, you shouldn't have bothered."

"It's no bother when I can make you happy"

You received the beautiful flowers in your small hands, allowing yourself to smell them, such a fresh smell while you lovingly observed your loved one and he returned the same look, absorbed in that cloying atmosphere.

Of course that beautiful moment was not the most comfortable for everyone present, much less for Yuji Itadori imitating his twin with a shrill and annoying voice, since he had never seen his brother in that silly state.

"It's no bother when I can make you happy"

“I'm going to kick your ass”

Megumi couldn't stay silent for long either, because something kept echoing in her mind.

"But the meaning of flowers..."

"Excuse me?"

You looked at him with a smile so sweet and innocent that he hesitated for a second on his next words.

“Those flowers have a negative meaning…”

"It's funny you think my 'Kuna knows the meaning of flowers"

"We should have assumed that"

⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭 master list is here

#aledthinks #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jujustsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #drabble #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk sukuna #sukuna #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #fluff #ryoumen sukuna

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mayullla · 1 year ago

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Title: An invitation to a chase

Character(s): Childe / Tartaglia (Genshin Impact)

Summary: Isekai au; It wasn't by choice that you dropped into this game. It was slow, but you slowly manage to make a living for yourself in Liyue. This was not a game anymore. Yet at the same time, you could not shake the feeling that this world had its faith already decided so you decided to become someone from the background not knowing you have gained the interest of a certain harbinger.

Warnings/tags: F!reader, yandere themes, mentions of other characters (liyue)

When you woke up you didn't know where you were...

Confused by the tall mountains and the beastly monsters that carried axes, wooden bats and shields, the small circle monsters that looked afraid when they saw you and ran away, you thought that they were familiar but at the same time in a daze unable to properly understand anything.

It was almost like a dream that you waited to wake up but... you never did.

It was with the help of travelers and adventurers passing by that you finally understood where you were. Their clothes hinted at where you were, and the names of places were another one. It was slow, but soon everything clicked together. You were sucked into a game called Genshin Impact, and you don't know how to get back.

Distraught you were after you realize that other than your clothes, you had nothing, nothing that reminded you of home or a way back. It was with the help of kind-hearted adventurers that you were able to get back up.

You knew that you were in Liyue and with the adventurers who found you here heading to Liyue Harbor. It was soon that you parted ways with them after they were sure that you knew your way around and had a place to stay.

You passed by Xinyan and Yunjin in their repetitive stages till you found Yanfei, who helped you get on your feet and make a living for yourself here.

It has been a few months since then, and oftentimes, you wondered if you should have even become friends with the characters that you once knew from behind a screen. If you were allowed to be their friend when you didn't belong here. No matter how kind Xinagling and Gouba were, they would always be a reminder to you that this was a game that you played once.

The NPCs that you helped as a traveler, even playable characters... it was somewhat nerving to see them... detailed, their struggles beside their quests that they gave to the traveler. You used to see only part of their problem before being forced away from them, unable to talk to them anymore besides a few repeating texts.

You wanted to help them, but part of you also thought that you shouldn't. That later on the traveler would come and help them which you thought would be far more appropriate than... you.

It wasn't like you didn't want to help, but in the end, you realized that they didn't ask for it and that you weren't the traveler anymore, and that you were another person altogether at this point. You didn't have the power to make everything okay again.

Instead, you just choose to be in the background, maybe a friend to Yanfei and a few others or just acquaintances for others if you ever bump into them yet faceless in the whole storyline you suspected to start soon.

So when you were out in the mountains gathering herbs, you didn't think you would see a certain person with ginger hair and blue eyes who came all the way from Snezhnaya.

He was the one who noticed you first as you froze like a deer in headlights unable to move when you meet his eyes. It wasn't like he was gonna kill you, you knew that even if he could he would not. But that never changed the fact that to you he was still dangerous.

Meeting him here all of a sudden without any notice made you unable to casually wave at the man who did so instead look away as you took off leaving him alone to wonder if he had done something wrong to a stranger. Did his wave offend you?

You thought you would never see that man again.

Again, you mentally thought it wasn't like you disliked him or anything, as much as you would fawn over or like this character in the past... it has been months since you last played the game, and the characters became all the more real to you even if you didn't want them to be... yet at the same time still just characters.

Yanfei would occasionally visit your home when you realize that she had her own problems other than what the game shows. That her words weren't on repeat, but actual genuine interest.

It made you think about the future choices that have yet to happen when Zhongli would choose to "die" in the ceremony... how much panic and worry would strike the citizens but also you. It also made you think about a certain toy seller who would cause even greater trouble and turbulence. The same man who waved at you.

It wasn't like you could stop him. You didn't have a vision, nor were you strong enough to fight him.

Choosing to stay quiet till everything passed was what you chose to do when everything would finally happen. You already knew that everything would end well one way or another with the help of the traveler.

You didn't expect to see him again in the mountains. This time, he was sitting on the grass as if he had finished training just a few moments ago. With how messy the whole place around him was? No doubt.

Hidden behind the trees, you stared at the man who you thought didn't notice you, carefully taking a step back you plan to leave.

"You know, it was quite rude of you to just go when someone greets you."

You flinched as you glanced back at him, a cheerful smile on his face.

You were caught.

"I am sorry... I was in a hurry back then." You tried to make an excuse, not making a move to go towards the man nor stepping away to make a run for it. It would be too suspicious. Tho... he probably already was suspicious of you.

"Hmmm, I am not so sure about that."

You watched as he sat up still watching you, "While I don't exactly think that you are a spy seeing how concentrated you were in collecting those herbs, you looked like you almost like a rabbit frozen in place as if I have come to bite you." The smile never once went down, but it also never reached his eyes.

"Tell me, have we met before? Your eyes recognized me when you saw me, but I don't remember ever seeing you."

You bite your lip as you look away. Were you really that obvious? You wondered, but you shook your head. "I don't recall ever meeting you in my life. It was because I experienced an… unfortunate event with the fatui that I now choose to just avoid them." You told him... somewhat honestly…

Well, half truth and half lie really… You did experience events from the game that almost made you dislike the fatui when you watch them cause so much trouble. But you also meet a few here, and while most ignore you, some could be rather...

So, really, you aren't wrong. You just hoped that Childe actually buys into the story enough to leave you from now on.

"Hmmm… Is that so. Well, maybe you can tell me who it was, and I will go check?" ...Childe was definitely trying to do something here. "That won't be needed." You said almost harshly. You were nervous.

"Now, now. If they made a mistake and hurt the passerby for no reason, then they are definitely at fault for it and would need punishment." Childe raised his hand, the other on his waist. "That isn't needed." You told him raising your hand as if to stop him, "It was long ago now, and I do not remember the person's face, nor do I care to get some sort of revenge."

Rather than a random fatui, you prefer if someone could knock some sense into the man in front of you. Not that you would say that.

You already packed your bags and were planning to head out as soon as you heard that Monstade was saved by the traveler and head there for a vacation away from the chaos here. You saved some mora just for this reason, too.

"Ahh, alright. Then how about this. How about I hang out with you whenever you go to the mountains? Think of it as an apology from the fatui." Childe said, taking a step closer still with a friendly smile. You lightly bite your tongue, wondering why he was so insistent. There was absolutely nothing special about you to warrant such interest like this. "That would not be needed."

"Well, but had I not come here a moment or two later, you would have already been hurt by the hilichurl camp here," Childe told you, his smile widening almost like a Cheshire cat. Quickly, you looked to his side, and your eyes widened in surprise. Of course, the mess was from a hilichurl camp.

"Don't worry too much about it they are all down. While you gathered herbs, I can clear out the place for you, and if there is a particularly hard place to get to something, I can also help you out." Childe made the deal sweet in his own opinion, yet when he raised his hand for a handshake you looked into his eyes and noticed that he still was suspicious of you, and you knew that if you declined here he would try other means to watch over you.

You frowned at him again, "I already told you that I do not wish assistance from the fatui."

"Hmmm, okay there. I will just be right beside you, not as a protector or anything like that, but more on an accidental meeting." You have been left speechless at how shameless this man was. All the while, he continued to smile as if he didn't say anything wrong.

And as much as you hated it, he kept his promise or whatever you would call it. Whenever you would go to the mountains, he was always there acting as if he was just going to head up too and that the two of you should hang out. Or that time you met him on the way, and he decided to follow you up again when you clearly saw that he was actually going down it. When you change the time you usually go up the mountains thinking you could outmaneuver him... he was there waiting for you.

It was unnerving really how often he followed you, as you would now see him in the market and the streets of Liyue Harbor. "Ah! I didn't expect to meet you here, comrade." Childe would openly greet you while you want nothing more than to look away. You didn't doubt that he had eyes everywhere... he probably placed a spy or two on you if he was actually suspicious of you.

Yet somehow you thought that this was different, that the eyes on you weren't cause you were a spy but something else. Not when you realize that Childe's eyes were always on you, no matter what you do, he was always there...

What did he notice...

It was always amusing watching you search for that moment to scurry away like a mouse whenever the two of you meet. It was something that Childe always took pleasure teasing you with.

You have always been like this except to a way to various degrees even with others but more so with him. There was always a distance between you and the world that he craved to figure out. When he first came to Liyue a few months ago, Childe had seen you a few times walking around the streets. You weren't special well, not at first, while vision holders tend to have their own distinct style. You choose something that blended with the crowd and their fashion.

He didn't really care much, just a moment thought and then to the next topic he had to deal with. But he couldn't help himself but look at you again after he noticed you on the side of the street with some vision holders. You guys were talking for a bit, but Childe noticed that stare you had almost knowing, yet no words of it came out of your mouth.

A few times later, he saw you by chance. You sometimes had this distant look in your eyes as you watched the ships come and leave the docks. Sometimes, it was a cautious look or maybe sometimes impatient, but you were always watchful... waiting. You were always looking for so clues, what he wasn't sure but had as time passed gotten curious.

The first time you saw him, he thought that you would maybe wave back as he raised his hand, yet much to his surprise there was recognition in yoru eyes, and then the next thing you did was run away.

You knew him, even tho he had no remembrance of ever meeting you before he noticed you. There was a certain thrill that beat in his heart when he realized that you knew more than you let on.

And to him, it was an invitation to a chase.

He followed you almost ever you went ever since then, mildly disappointed when his duties call for him as he had to for a short put a cause to the chase. But the more he spent time with you, watching you, he knew that you were definitely hiding something. The knowing look you sometimes give to others when you thought that they were looking, as you withheld information that was just about to reach the tip of your tongue. The look that you gave him, when he talked about certain topics, his trill towards fighting, your eyes told him that you knew something that he never told anyone else other than his close associates.

And to him, it was nothing but trilling. You have become something likened to a prey that he had become found over. Someday, there is this itch of wanting nothing more than to rip you apart to know everything about you, but he cherishes you just enough not to.

It would be sad to destroy you like that, but to be fair, even if he had patience... he could only wait for so long.

Note: It is his special day so loll

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theseeingfawn · 2 months ago

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Favorite Modern/AU Elriel Fanfiction

This is for you @capt-seaweed-girl 💗

🌹Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince by yourstarsmyscars

Description: Fresh off a brutal break-up, Elain is in need of a distraction. A casual fling. One no strings bad idea, with a guy she definitely won't get attached to, so she can finally move on.

Azriel has lost count of the number of women who've come to regret meeting him. But while he may be the worst idea Elain has had in a while, he's determined to prove that she won't regret him.

🌹Shadowsinger [erotic audio for women, nsfw] by @dottielovegood

Description: Azriel does audio porn. Elain is a big fan.

🌹A Match Baked In Heaven by NikeTheStatue

Description: Elain Archeron, owner of the prestigious Marigold Agency, which specialises in exclusive matchmaking has a new and very challenging client.

Azriel Night, football superstar, 'stubborn as a mule' (according to his brother Cassian), handsome womaniser is under pressure to find himself a wife. At stake--a 230 million inheritance.

Problem is--he can't stand his new matchmaker, and by the looks of it, she shares his feelings--she can barely tolerate him.

She is haughty, stuck-up, annoying, preachy and proper. And she 'believes in love'.

He is rude, temperamental, uncultured, full of issues and a bad attitude. And he doesn't have a romantic bone in his body.

Will Elain succeed in finding him a wife? A woman who'd learn to love him for what he is? It's a challenge that Elain will reluctantly take upon herself. Will she fail? Probably. But with the help of her faithful three-legged pug Piglet, she will do everything that she can to find Azriel his 'happily ever after'.

🌹The Enemy by @separatist-apologist

Description: In order to kill his most hated enemy, Azriel has to kidnap Graysen Nolan's fiance.Should be easy, right?

🌹Everywhere, Everything by @duskandcobalt

Description: Two close friends, one crossed line.…

After a decade of friendship, Elain and Azriel are left to navigate the fallout following an encounter that's far from platonic.

or A friends to lovers fic about denial and longing.

🌹Literally in Love by julesherondalex

Description: Welcome to Velaris High - your favorite idiots are now teaching innocent High School students.

One day, biology teacher Elain finds a love note addressed to her, without anyone taking responsibility for it. She’s left to figure out the hopeless romantic - all the while fighting her silly crush for the nerdy math teacher.

Get ready for sweet pining, misunderstandings and workplace romance.

(Song of the Fic: You Are The Solution (Chez Remix) - Loving Caliber)

🌹Nothing But Trouble by TheSeeingFawn (My fic)

Description: Elain Archeron, beloved sweetheart of the quaint town of Hewn Hills, yearns for a life beyond the constraints and expectations placed upon her by her family and community. Azriel Rosehall, a captivating yet misunderstood outsider, struggles with the prejudices of the town as he endeavors to forge his own destiny. Drawn to each other by an undeniable connection, Elain and Azriel are determined to be together, even if it means bringing trouble to the charming small-town.

Inspired by Practice Makes Perfect by Sarah Adams

“Everything that's worth having is some trouble." - L.M. Montgomery

#elriel fic #elriel fanfic #elain x azriel #elriel #azriel x elain

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the-artist-grimm · 20 days ago

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I’ve seen a lot of cotl au’s, but yours is definitely one of my favorites, and probably the cult I would choose to live in if I could.

Thank you! I'm glad you like my Au!!!!! And yeah at least in Anthea's cult, it is pretty safe?

Anthea's a good leader-but it's debatable if they're good as a cult leader. They try to run the cult more like a village than anything. There's sermons to Death of course-Anthea had been praying to him for years prior to even becoming vessel so they were more than happy to start the cult in his name, but outside of Sunday they're not completely mandatory (though everyone still tries to attend just because Anthea's preaching is very gentle/reassuring when compared to the Bishops). And it's only mandatory primarily because Anthea has a strict 'Sunday is Town Hall' rule where after sermon news, suggestions, problems, ect. are gone over, alongside plans for the week.

Narinder questioned their lax methods at first since even Ratau managed to be strict enough to place a divide between him and his cult's roles, but it did prove effective-followers were a lot more willing to put faith in a leader they felt saw them as people as opposed to the Bishops who sacrificed, cursed, and murdered followers left and right. Most had also lost their own villages and towns, so the familiarity was comforting. Narinder also paid more attention to Anthea's way of leading as opposed to other vessels. Usually he would only watch during crusades, sermons, or rituals, but Anthea would start talking to him just casually out of nowhere so often he kinda had no choice but to witness just how effective their kindness was. So different from his siblings...from himself-yet oddly something he grew to respect.

And though Anthea denied it early on, it was also out of their own desire for familiarity too-they missed the feeling of a village community. (plus their self-sacrificial nature made it difficult to be anything but nice to those in their care)

#I cannot picture this sheep being anything but nice to their followers-also easily horrified by the Bishops' converts #Leshy's mention that their sermons saw wild out of control parties? Anthea threatens time out if they even try-forget them all being adults #Heket's former followers mention cannibalism? Anthea loses it and scolds them #Kallamar's tell them what a Lust Rite is? Anthea turns redder than blood then cannot look any of them in the face for a day #Narinder's not sure to pity them or laugh when that one happens XD #crimson angel au #ask #crimson angel au lore

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barricadescon · 5 months ago

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Barricades 2024 Final Schedule!

The time is near! Barricades 2024 is happening THIS WEEKEND, July 12-14 , all online!

We have the final schedule available on the website at barricadescon.com or right here, on this post! A more detailed schedule including descriptions is available in text under the Keep Reading break!

BarricadesCon 2024 Program

A full programming schedule of all the panels, their content, their presenters, their times, and whether they will be recorded.

All times are in UTC, and can be converted to your local time zone at this link.

Key to types of Panels:

Convention Administration panels: Panels run by the Con Committee, to open and end the convention.

Guest of Honor: Special panels from our guests of honor. This year, our guests of honor are Jean Baptiste Hugo, a descendant of Victor Hugo who will discuss his project photograph his ancestor’s house; Christina Soontornvat, the author of the award-winning Les Mis retelling “A Wish in the Dark;” and Luciano Muriel, playwright of the 2018 musical play “Grantaire.”

Fan/Academic Panel Presentations: Panels on history, fandom, or analysis of Les Mis. Scholars will share historical research, fans will share hobby projects, and the audience may get an opportunity to ask questions.

Social Meetups: Casual unstructured time to meet up over video call and chat!

Social Games: Games and activities.

Friday, June 12th

Discord Server Opens: Friday Morning UTC

Read through the rules, explore the channels, and chat with other congoers.

Welcome Session

Friday, 17:00-17:30 UTC

Session Type: Convention Administration

Presented by: Convention Committee

Recorded: No

In this session, Concom 2024 will kick off BarricadesCon 2024 and welcome everyone. Concom will also walk everyone through some basic information and FAQs to help ensure a fun and interesting con for everyone.

The Cats of Les Misérables

Friday, 17:30-18:00 UTC

Session Type: Social Meetup

Presented by: Melannen

Recorded: No

A laid-back social panel to meet your fellow attendees, share pictures of your pets (or have them join you in the panel!) and chat about pets and Les Mis fandom generally.

(Guest of Honor) From Paris to Bangkok: a Thai-inspired retelling of Les Misérables

Friday, 18:00-19:00 UTC

Session Type: Guest of Honor

Presented by: Christina Soontornvat

Recorded: Yes

Christina Soontornvat’s Newbery Honor-winning children’s novel, A Wish in the Dark, is a Les Misérables adaptation set in a magical Thai-inspired world. Christina will discuss the inspiration for the book, how she decided when to be faithful to the original, and how Hugo’s powerful themes of compassion and forgiveness resonate across age ranges and cultures.

Learn more about Christina’s work at soontornvat.com.

The Yellow Passport: Surveillance and Control in 19th Century France

Friday, 19:00- 20:00 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: David Montgomery, creator of the Siecle History Podcast

Recorded: Yes

Les Misérables takes place in a France of police spies, intercepted mail, travel restrictions and other elements of a 19th Century police state. What exactly were these ways French governments surveilled and controlled their citizens? How did they work? And how did people get around them?

Meetup: Fan Creators

Friday, 19:00-20:00 UTC

Session Type: Social Meetup

Presented by: Eli

Recorded: No

Come meet fellow fan creators! Casual unstructured time to chat with other fans. A good place for people who spend a lot of time on Ao3.

Break

20:00-21:00 UTC

Early Transformative Works: The First Les Miserables Fanart, Fanfics, and AUS

Friday, 21:00-22:00 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: Psalm

Recorded: Yes

This presentation will give you an overview of the earliest works inspired by Les Misérables – including illustrations, comics, poems, pamphlets, and novels. Which ones will stand the test of time? And what can these works tell us about the book’s reception and impact? Come learn about the forgotten, but fascinating first transformative works about Les Misérables.

Black and Pink International

Friday, 21:00-22:00 UTC

Session Type: Panel Presentation

Presented by: Darryl Brown Jr. (he/him), Senior Director of Programs and Advocacy, Black and Pink National. Kenna Barnes (she/they), Advocacy Manager, Black and Pink National

Recorded: Yes

This year, Barricades Con is donating all profits to Black and Pink International.

Black & Pink National is a prison abolitionist organization dedicated to abolishing the criminal punishment system and liberating LGBTQIA2S+ people and people living with HIV/AIDS who are affected by that system through advocacy, support, and organizing. Programming includes wrap-around services for those coming out of the carceral system such as but not limited to workforce development, transitional housing, newsletters to inside members and penpal matching, nationwide Chapters, youth-led research about young people living with HIV, and programming for and by people who do sex work.

Sex work as an issue sits clearly at the intersection of reproductive justice, prison abolition, and trans and queer liberation. Black trans women who engage in sex work face some of the highest rates of policing and surveillance, directly interfering with their ability to access safety and autonomy. We know that when we center the needs of Black trans women, especially those who engage in sex work, we are inherently able to address the needs of other system-impacted people along the way.

The Sex Worker Liberation Project (SWLP) is a collaboration between Black and Pink National and a network of current and former LGBTQIA2S+ people who do sex work across the country. This sex worker led group moves with the intention of building community, providing resources, and cultivating self advocacy tools.The SWLP is on a mission to tackle the urgent and multifaceted issues confronting sex workers, with a specific emphasis on the challenges faced by Black and Brown LGBTQIA2S+ sex workers.

Meetup: Brick Readers

Friday, 22:00-23:00 UTC

Session Type: Social Meetup

Presented by: Mellow

Recorded: No

Come meet up and hang out with your fellow Brick readers! Let’s talk about weird nonsense from the book.

Beat by Beat: a Les Mis 2012 Deconstruction

Friday, 22:00-23:00 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: Eli

Recorded: Yes

To quote Eli: “As an avid Les Mis fan and also someone with an MFA in screenwriting, I find the script for the Les Mis 2012 movie absolutely fascinating. The choices they made, the added brick scenes, the added song, the pacing, the dialogue, the shots selection—all of it contributes to a very interesting adaptation that our fandom owes a huge debt of gratitude to (whether we like it or not 🥲). I would like to take an audience through the 9 major beats of a screenplay, apply it to Les Mis 2012, and share my thoughts on what the filmmakers did right for this adaptation and what they did wrong. I’ll compare it to the Les Mis musical (the direct source material) as well as the Brick (the secondary source material) for insight on the choices they made!”

History Researcher Meetup

Friday, 23:00-24:00 UTC

Session Type: Social Meetup

Presented by: David Montgomery

Recorded: No

A chance for history researchers to meet up and discuss their research!

Atonement: A Theatrical Piece for One Actor, Based on Segments from Hugo’s Les Miserables

Friday, 23:00-24:00 UTC

Session Type: Panel Presentation

Presented by: Alexiel de Ravenswood

Recorded: Yes

This theatrical piece is a dramatic adaptation of scenes from Book 1 of the novel, focusing on the Bishop of Digne. Following the piece, actor Alexiel de Ravenswood will engage in q&a on the creative process and the themes explored.

Saturday, June 13th

Guest of Honor: The Photography of Jean Baptiste Hugo

Saturday, 15:00-16:00 UTC

Session Type: Guest of Honor

Presented by: Jean Baptiste Hugo

Recorded: yes

Jean Baptiste Hugo is the great-great-grandson of Victor Hugo. He has extensively photographed Hugo’s home in exile on Guernsey, which Victor Hugo decorated following his own aesthetic philosophies–in particular, the journey from darkness into light, which we see reflected throughout Hugo’s literary career. M. Hugo will share his photographs and discuss Hauteville House as a physical realization of his ancestor’s ideas.

Reflecting on Directing Les Mis

Saturday, 16:00-17:00 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: Cait

Recorded: yes

In Cait’s words: “I directed an amateur production of Les Mis at the end of last year, and would love to talk about how that went and share snippets from the show and behind the scenes. This will include talking about adapting Les Mis for the space and budget, approaches to certain scenes, dual casting lead roles, and probably raving about my lovely cast.”

The Fallibility of History in Les Misérables

Saturday, 16:00-17:00 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: Syrup

Recorded: yes

Throughout Les Misérables, Hugo often reminds readers that what they are reading is derived from some form of documentation or hearsay. While this serves to provide credibility to the tales he is sharing, there are certain moments where Hugo opts out of describing exact details, despite his efforts at a historically-accurate record. In this panel, I will take a look at these instances where Hugo either addresses or obfuscates these events, and how by doing so, he reveals the fallibility of history, and highlights how history documentations are not always as reliable as they seem. Thesis: By crafting Les Misérables as a form of historical documentation, Hugo reveals the fallibility of history, and readers are able to understand how history and history documentation are not always as reliable as they seem.

Break

Saturday, 17:00-18:00 UTC

What Horizon: Tragedies, Time Loops, and the Hopefulness of Les Amis

Saturday, 18:00-18:30 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: Percy

Recorded: yes

In Percy’s words: “I have directed a staged reading of the play and will have video clips to show! My play is focused on the rebellion and Les Amis; it aims to give the barricades the attention they often lack in adaptation and develop the individual characters of the insurgents. I’m working to make this episode of the Hugo novel and its historical context accessible to audience members who may not be familiar with the source material, while hopefully also bringing something new to the story for longtime fans.

One aspect of the story I’m particularly interested in examining is the persistent sense of hope associated with the barricades, despite the insurgents’ eventual defeat and the previous failure of the July Revolution. Linking the seemingly cyclical process of revolution and restoration, the metatheatrical tradition of tragedies aware of their own repetition in performance before the audience, and the nature of Les Misérables itself as a story that has been told and retold countless times, I hope to show the audience the worth of the insurgents’ struggle and the importance of their continued efforts. Many adaptations construe the rebellion as futile or as solely a tragic story, so I would like my adaptation to counter that idea, as Les Amis grapple with the meaning of their sacrifice and the impacts of their actions.

In a presentation, I would discuss these ideas with reference to Hugo’s original text and the ways in which the rebellion has been changed in adaptation, as well as other works that inspired me (namely Hadestown and Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead). I’d discuss the choices I made in my adaptation process and show clips from the staged reading, touching on the different characters and the historical setting as well as the overarching themes with which I engaged.”

Cosette: A Novel, The (Fanmade) Sequel to Les Misérables

Saturday, 18:30-19:00 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: IMiserabili

Recorded: yes

This presentation is a deep-dive into the 1995 fanfiction “Cosette” by Laura Kalpakian. It will include a short background on the author and the publication, a summary of the plot, an analysis of represented historical events in the work, character analyses and comparisons to the source material and other Les Mis adaptations, and memorable quotes.

Musical Eponine and Grantaire in song and lyric edits: Personal research on their development

Saturday, 18:00-19:00 UTC

Session Type: Panel Presentation

Presented by: Ruth Kenyon

Recorded: yes

In Ruth’s words: “I’m an older musical Les Misérables fan who has watched the show develop from its beginnings at the Palace Theatre. I have a special interest in how the lyrics and the characters have changed over time. As plenty of people know now, I am also writing a book on the musical using these experiences. I’m working on Eponine’s chapter at the moment, and while I know fans have a lot of love for as she is now, I feel quite upset to see what happened to her as she was developed from the original French version of the musical. She seems to have lost quite a lot of emotional agency along the way. Grantaire has also changed over time; he was cut before the previews and there was a big re-write of his character when the show went to Broadway, but I really like what they have done with his character. I’ll provide examples of all this detail with material from my book and (trying) to sing bits of lyrics to explain what has happened to the characters.”

Barricades as a Tactic: How Do They Work?

Saturday, 19:00-20:00 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: Lem

Recorded: No

This session will explore the tactical and strategic uses of barricades, with an eye towards what to consider when writing both canon-era fanfiction and modern AUs. After all, the strategic goals towards which the barricades were used in canon-era urban warfare were often quite different from the strategic goals of similar-looking tactics in contemporary protest movements. Core components of the session will be a map-based analysis of July 1830, a comparison with June 1832 highlighting strategic goals and considerations canon-era characters would have, and an exploration of various parallels among contemporary protest tactics (which may or may not *look* like barricades).

Meetup: Musical Fans

Saturday, 19:00-20:00 UTC

Session Type: Social Meetup

Presented by: Erin

Recorded: No

A casual place to meet up with other fans and discuss the musical!

Break

Saturday, 20:00-21:00 UTC

Why is There a Roller Coaster in Les Mis? The Strange History of the Russian Mountains

Saturday, 21:00-22:00 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: Peyton Parker/Mellow

Recorded: Yes

In Les Miserables there is an actual canon scene where Fantine rides a roller coaster. How did a roller coaster end up in Paris in 1817? And why did this ride, one of the world's first wheeled Roller Coasters, make a cameo in Victor Hugo’s novel?

It’s “Les Mis Meets Defunctland.”

We’re going talk about the earliest origins of the Russian Mountains, the fascinating history behind how they came to France, their many connections to the political turmoil of the time period, what they felt like to ride, why they were shut down, how they fell into obscurity, and why Victor Hugo included them in Les Miserables. It’s time for a roller coaster digression.

Fanfic Round Robin

Saturday, 22:00-23:00 UTC

Session Type: Social Game

Presented by: Featheraly

Recorded: No

Participate in a round robin to help write a fic together!

Obscure(-ish) Les Mis Adaptations To Watch

Saturday, 23:00-23:30 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: Pureanon

Recorded: Yes

Les Mis has been adapted many times over the years, and this means there’s a lot of adaptations to enjoy. Because of this, a lot of adaptations are underviewed or underappreciated. I’d like to use this panel to discuss some of my favorites/the most unique — 1925, 1948, 1967, and 1995. These are all very different, and aside from all being ones I enjoy, they’re fascinating looks at how different countries and different time periods adapt this story.

The adaptations I’ve chosen are both some of the best and some of the worst out there, but they’re all unique. 1925 is one of the most faithful adaptations out there, and it uses the medium of silent film to full effect. 1948 has Valean get shot at multiple times in the opening minutes, and the revolutionaries fight with BARRELS in the barricade. 1967 is half one of the best Anglophone Les Mis adaptations ever, and half the drunkest. 1995 is more of an adaptation of how people react to Les Mis as a story than a straightforward adaptation, and it’s one of the most beautiful and unique versions out there. I intend to show a clip from each adaptation, so people can get a little taste of what each adaptation is like.

Recovery: a Fanfic Live Read

Saturday, 22:30-23:00

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: Eli, Barri

Recorded: Yes

A full cast will live read a Les Mis fanfic written specifically for the con.

Compared to Some People Grantaire is Doing Just Fine (No, Really)

Saturday: 22:00-23:00

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: Ellen Fremedon, Pilferingapples

Recorded: Yes

Grantaire and Marius are the two characters on the fringes of the Friends of the ABC, connected to the group by social ties rather than sincere political belief. In this panel, Pilf and Ellen will discuss the two characters as narrative foils, touching along the way on the problem with Great Men, bourgeois inaction, what it means to have the republic as a mother, and dying for love–plus those two pistols in Marius’s pocket.

Preliminary Gaities

23:00-24:00 UTC

Session Type: Social Game

Presented by: Rare, Percy, and ShitpostingFromTheBarricade

Recorded: No

Preliminary Gayeties is the chapter where Grantaire gets drunk with Joly and Bossuet before the barricades. It is perfect for a drinking game.

In keeping with personal tradition, Rare, Percy, and ShitpostingFromTheBarricade will bring you a second year of our dramatic reading of the “Preliminary Gayeties” chapter of the brick. all while following specified drinking game rules (including classics such as “drink for brick quotes that appear commonly in fanfiction,” “pretentious classical references,” and “drink/eat when characters drink/eat”), and enjoying snacks mentioned in the chapter as they are mentioned. Everyone is invited to participate by reading, eating, and drinking along with this activity!

Sunday, June 14th

Publishing, Podcasting, and Promotion

Saturday, 15:00-16:00 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: David Mongomery, Alexiel de Ravenswood, Nemo Martin

Recorded: Yes

Whether it’s fanart, Tiktok videos or deep historical analysis, lots of us have THOUGHTS about Les Mis we’d like to share with the world. This panel discussion features creators sharing their advice on how to share your work with the world in a range of mediums.

Femme/butch: Dynamics of Gender and Attraction in Les Mis

Saturday, 15:00-15:30 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: Eléna

Recorded: Yes

In Eléna’s words: “This is a presentation about parallels between femme/butch dynamics and les mis! The focus is on Marius, Cosette and Eponine and their individual gender presentation and attraction. There will be a focus on the original text, but I will also talk about headcanons & representation in the fandom space! I’m a femme myself, but I’ll try to incorporate butch and transmasculine viewpoints!”

Lee’s Misérables: Jean Valjean, Confederate Hero

Saturday, 15:30-16:00 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Panel Presentation

Presented by: Sarah C. Maza

Recorded: Yes

Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables (1862) was as big a success in the United States as elsewhere in the world upon publication, hailed throughout the young nation as the commanding masterpiece of modern French literature. Why would a novel that celebrates violent insurrection and radical republican ideals be so warmly received in America? One of the (many) answers to that question is that the novel appeared in the midst of the Civil War, and that it provided engrossing reading to the many soldiers stuck in place for weeks or months in camp, hospitals, and prisons. Most surprising, though, is the evidence of Les Misérables’ appeal to Confederate soldiers (who jokingly called themselves “Lee’s Misérables”), as Hugo was on record as an ardent abolitionist. My paper will illustrate and explain the paradoxical appeal of Hugo’s novel in the South in two contexts: first, I will draw attention to the ways in which Confederate nationalists likened their cause to the European Revolutions of 1848; and second, I will explain the novel’s resonance within what Wolfgang Schievelbusch has called the “culture of defeat,” the emotional resonance, in some historical contexts, of narratives of doomed causes and heroic failure.

Guest of Honor: Luciano Muriel, playwright of “Grantaire”

Sunday, 16:00-17:00 UTC

Session Type: Guest of Honor

Presented by: Luciano Muriel

Recorded: Yes

Panel about the details of the creative process behind the show Grantaire, from the discovery of the character during the playwright’s first reading of Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables to the opening night of the staging at the Teatro Pradillo of Madrid. Why Grantaire? Why a dramatic monologue? Why include Amaral songs? What did the awards and subventions entail? All the answers to these and many other questions.

Break

Sunday, 17:00-18:00 UTC

1848 in Chile: The Society of Equality and the Siege of La Serena

Sunday, 18:00-19:00 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academc Presentation

Presented by: Duncan Riley

Recorded: Yes

While the Revolutions of 1848 are traditionally seen as a European event, they had a powerful influence in Latin America. In Chile in particular, university students who studied in France during the revolutions would lead a movement to oust the conservative dictatorship that had ruled the country since the 1830s. Inspired by the poetry of Alphonse de Lamartine and the ideals of utopian socialism, a group of Chilean intellectuals and artisans founded “The Society of Equality,” a cross-class political club dedicated to creating a democratic and participatory republic. Inspired by these ideals, in 1851 the citizens of La Serena, a mining town in northern Chile, declared their independence from the central government. Members of the Society of Equality transformed La Serena into the torchbearer of their vision of a new “democratic republic” that would restore civil liberties and grant greater autonomy to Chile’s provinces and municipalities. In defense of these principles, La Serena endured a months-long siege by government forces. The conflict inscribed itself within broader international dynamics of revolution and empire, as the British Royal Navy Intervened on the side of the government, while French immigrants built barricades to defend La Serena from invasion. Ultimately, then, La Serena and the Chilean Revolution of 1851 provide a fascinating window into the transatlantic exchanges of ideas that drove movements of democratic reform in both Europe and Latin America during the Revolutions of 1848.

The Unknown Light Examined

Sunday, 18:00-19:00 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Presentation

Presented by: Madeleine

Recorded: Yes

In the tenth chapter of Les Misérables, Bishop Myriel sets out to perform the last rights of Conventionnel G, a man reviled by all of Digne for having served on the body that voted to execute the king during the French Revolution. The bishop and the dying man debate the nature of equality, divine authority, and resistance to oppression. G’s fierce defense of the French revolution and Myriel’s staunch condemnation of political violence represent diametrically opposed philosophies, but the two men have more in common than first appears. They are both men of faith, in their own way, called to serve by their profound love for humanity. Intensely shaken by this realization, the bishop kneels before the dying sinner and asks his blessing.

What does this role reversal signify? How do Myriel and G’s conceptualizations of God and morality compare, and why does Hugo seek to reconcile them? To answer these questions, this panel investigates the thematic implications of this chapter. We’ll dissect the characters’ debate, discussing the historical and religious context that informs their moral frameworks—and Hugo’s depiction of them. Drawing on analysis by literary scholars, we’ll situate Hugo’s portrayal of the bishop and the conventionnel within this same context, evaluating the extent to which G is based on the Abbé Grégoire. We’ll also examine the impact of this chapter on Bishop Myriel’s characterization and symbolic role in the novel. Lastly, we’ll explore how “The Bishop in the Presence of an Unknown Light" serves as a political and philosophical thesis for Les Misérables.

Revolutionary Rants: “Les Misérables” Onstage from an International Perspective

Sunday, 20:00-21:00 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic Presentation

Presented by: Tessa, Anne, Kaja, Marie, Apollon

Recorded: Yes

What started out as an open call online to gather fans from around the world to rant about the musical version of Les Mis has turned into a group of musical fans from four countries getting together to discuss our different perspectives of various international productions of the show. Topics include our favorite cast albums, how our favorite character interactions are staged in various productions we follow (including Enjoltaire), our favorite actors from the different productions, and our favorite memorable moments from the show. And we would be remiss if we didn’t mention the major impact the 2012 movie had on us as well!

Paint & Sip

Sunday, 20:00-21:00 UTC

Session Type: Social Game

Presented by: Psalm, Potatosonnet

Recorded: No

A short presentation on the artwork of Victor Hugo, his medium and subject matter, followed by crafting time inspired by Hugo’s work.

Les Mis Letters: Building a Book Club

Sunday, 21:00-22:00 UTC

Session Type: Fan/Academic presentation

Presented by: Mellow, Eccentrichat

Recorded: Yes

There are 365 chapters in Les Miserables. Les Mis Letters is an email subscription that sends you one chapter of Les Mis daily for a year.

Rachel and Mellow have been running the “Dracula-Daily” inspired Les Mis readalong since 2023! Mellow will speak to the behind the scenes process of setting up a Substack and discord server, while other readers will speak to the experience of reading Les Mis for the first time in this format or the small projects they’ve put together while following along.

Les Mis Singalong

Sunday, 21:00-22:00 UTC

Session Type: Social Game

Presented by: Megan

Recorded: No

Let’s let loose by belting out our favorite Les Mis songs together! All singing abilities welcome and encouraged, it’s virtual after all 😀 It will be musical-heavy but we’ll be sure to throw in some other fan favorites!

Closing Session

Sunday, 22:00-22:30 UTC

Session Type: Convention Administration

Presented by: Convention Committee

Recorded: No

Closing remarks by the convention committee, marking the official end of the convention.

Dead Dog

Sunday, 22:30-24:00

Session Type: Convention Administration

Presented by: Convention Committee

Recorded: No

“Dead Dog” is a fandom slang term for a laidback “afterparty” that happens when a convention has officially ended.

#mine #barricadescon #les mis #les miserables #barricades #schedule #Barricades 2024

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sambuckylibrary · 7 months ago

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All TFATWS Anniversary Event 2024 Fills

Thank you to all who participated in this event! here are all the fills you created!

Week 5: No Powers AU by @funsized-loser | SamBucky Fic Rec List | Rated: N/A-E | 13 Fics + 7 Fic Writers Generally Recced |

[podfic] I Could Never Hold Your Heart In My Hand (my darling you already do) by @funsized-loser with original fic by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: T | Length: 1.5-2 Hrs | Snow White Fusion, Fantasy AU, Curse Breaking | AO3 |

Week 5: Ghost/Zombie AU by @funsized-loser | SamBucky Fic Rec List | Rated: T-E | 7 Fics + 1 Fanart |

Week 6: Didn't Know They Were Dating/Friends With Benefits | SamBucky Fic Rec List | Rated: G-E | 10 Fics + 1 Podfic |

Untitled by @onesmolangel | Art | Hurt/Comfort, TFATWS Episode 6 "One World, One People", Hug |

You’re Just Gonna Set Me Up Like That, Huh? by @funsized-loser | Rated: T | WC: 986 | “You’re Just Gonnaa Set Me Up Like That, Huh?”, TW: Blood/Injury, Cute |

Untitled by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: N/A | WC: 511 | “Let Me Just Walk You Through a Hypothetical”, Fluff, Established Relationship |

“Fixing the Boat” by @thatmexisaurusrex | Art | Meanwhile… On the Boat, Gif, Domestic Fluff |

“Sam Finds the Note” and “Bucky Has Regrets” by @thatmexisaurusrex | Art | Divorce Arc, Angst, Thunderbolts Era |

Untitled by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: N/A | WC: 2.9K | “You’re Just Gonna Set Me Up Like That, Huh?”, POV Annalise (Darlene’s Friend), Tooth-Rotting Fluff |

Soul Stone Fic Recs by @funsized-loser | Rated: T-M | SamBucky Fic Reclist | Five Fics |

Victory Party by @funsized-loser | Rated: T | WC: 1.3K | Victory Party, Bittersweet, Let Sam Grieve His Lost Friend |

Never Hit Send, Never Called Again by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: N/A | WC: 3.2K | 6 Months of Ghosting, Post-Endgame, Texting |

Sam Gets Ghosted for Six Months / Bucky Loses His Nerve for Six Months by @thatmexisaurusrex | SamBucky Fanart | 6 Months of Ghosting, Bittersweet, Gifs |

“I don’t think he’s the kind you save.” by @thatmexisaurusrex | art | SamBucky Edit, “I don’t think he’s the kind you save”, enemies to lovers.

Sam Searches for Bucky by @funsized-loser | Rated: M | WC: 1.1K | Sleeping Together, Sam Searches For Bucky, Fluff But a Little Bittersweet |

The Kind You Save by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: N/A | WC: 1.2K | “I don’t think he’s the kind you save”, this one’s angsty y'all, “You’re the one who gets saved.” hits you like a ton of bricks |

Post-WS/Sam-Finds-Bucky fics by @abarbaricyalp | SamBucky Fic Reclist | Rated: G-E | Seven Fics |

#tfatwsanniversary2024 #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky edit #sambucky art #sambucky fic rec list #sambucky podfic #mod: thatmexisaurusrex

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steviebbboi · 2 months ago

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Napoleon solo cream pie professor trope please thanks

Hello again nonnie! Hope you enjoy the second drabble for our lovely Napoleon <3 Thank you again for participating in my 200 Follower Writing Challenge it means the world! Now, on to the show 'class'!

Pairing: FakeProfessor!Napoleon Solo x Student!Reader

W/C: 1.9k

Prompt(s): Professor AU, creampie

*Napoleon is undercover! Peep the alias name 👀

*also included/TW: MINORS DNI; THIS IS 18+, p in v sex, assumed foreplay, forbidden aspect to relationship, inappropriate relationship between professor/student, reader is in her early 20's, napoleon is undercover/fake identity.

This took a different, and more romantic, turn than I thought that it would lol. Some intense/serious fluff goin' on btwn these two, and tbh, I'm kinda here for it.

One Foot Forward

A muted voice could be heard as you crept closer to Professor Walker’s office. You frowned as the voice became louder in tone, it sounded like he was scolding someone.

“Listen, Peril. It’s not long now that I’ll have what we came for. I’d appreciate a little faith if you could find that in you somewhere in that body of yours.”

“Peril? Who could that be?” You thought with a frown. You couldn’t hear the response of the person on the other line but you figured they must be a real heap for the professor to respond in such a way.

Instantly feeling guilty, you straightened up and knocked on the door twice and called out, “Professor Walker? Are you busy?”

You heard him hastily rush a goodbye and heard a casual “come in.” Hearing the permission, you entered the room and immediately flushed at the first sight of him sitting at his desk.

Professor August Walker. He’s a real looker for a college professor. When you decided to take Linguistics 101, you definitely didn’t expect for the Professor to be such a distraction. Once news got around campus about the new hot professor who spoke different tongues of what appeals to a woman’s heart, it seemed like only female students came to take the course.

You really tried to not embarrass yourself like the other girls were (you could hear half of them giggle and swoon in every class), but he was just so handsome. A strong chin defined his angular face, his features cunningly charming enough where a small smirk looked like his natural resting expression. The man didn’t have a fleck nor did he have a blemish on his smooth and cut jawline. A true tall, dark and handsome kinda guy.

You never questioned his teaching methods, nor did you question his style (even if he would wink at some of the swooning girls or when he would be naturally flirty with some of them if they asked a question). Was it inappropriate? Absolutely. But instead of feeling indignant about it actually happening, you were more upset with the fact that he gave you a D- on the last quiz.

You were just slightly bitter that his attention was on the other students. They were throwing themselves onto him, sure, but you? You never dared to cross that line, even if he went there first (whether it was a wink or a cunning smile that would make the other girls become frantic). Every flirty attempt, you flushed and brushed it off because you were trying to be a good student.

You were majoring in linguistics to travel abroad and took him, and his class seriously – overlooked all of these immature discrepancies. So, here you were, actually trying, and he gave you a D-?!

That’s why you decided to go to his office hours to seriously ask him what he was thinking with this grade. Looking the test over, you could see that the answers that were marked incorrectly were actually right. Unsure of his intentions surrounding the marking of his grades, you decided to find out exactly what his problem was.

You explained your plight to the professor now as you sat across his desk. You tried to gauge the facial expressions that he was giving you, an eyebrow quirk here, a twitch of a smirk there. Confusion bloomed as a headache as you watched his reactive ‘non-reactions’.

After he lets out a lasting hum of what sounded like curiosity, you couldn’t hold back your scoff.

Now, that, he had an actual reaction towards.

“Is there another problem, Miss…?” Professor Walker pondered with his perfectly plucked eyebrow raised again.

A pause filled the space for a brief moment as you realized that he forgot your name. You exclaimed your name at him with wide eyes filled with an outraged disbelief. You couldn’t hold back the following words, “What kind of a professor are you?! First, you marked my correct answers wrongfully. Second, you forget one of your students’ names! I understand that you may be taken aback that you have a student who finally doesn’t swoon over your every breath, but that doesn’t mean that you get to treat me this unfairly!”

You sat back in your chair in a huff as you tried to desperately catch your breath. His silence was palpable as he just sat there with his hands crossed on the desk. As the wind in your breath came back to you, you felt yourself flush again but this time, in embarrassment and shame.

You just yelled at your professor– you definitely were going to fail the class now.

Your eyes gravitated towards the cracked tile on the floor as you panicked on what to say, how to apologize for your outburst. But then he said your name so softly that it made you raise your head with regret.

“You’re right. I did mark your answers incorrectly and I do notice that you don’t swoon over me like the other students in class. I have treated you unfairly, and I’m sorry.” He said, his tone casually filled with a mystery of elusiveness despite the explicitness of his words.

“But I didn’t, in fact, forget your name.”

You squinted over at him suspiciously, any traces of shame or guilt gone from your chest. “Then, what happened just now?”

He cleared his throat as he looked down at his paper covered wooden desk before getting up from his desk chair to straighten his pristine and pressed suit. His veiny hands, that looked uncharacteristically calloused for a professor, were tucked into his trousers in a way that made him look even more charmingly intimidating. He leaned on the desk in front of you now, the proximity of his position allowed you to inhale the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

“I attempted to cover up my ridiculous cover since I know that I’d never be able to see you again after this.” He responded derisively, almost to himself.

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you tried to dissect the meaning behind his words, only coming up empty handed. Your breath stilted suddenly and the confusion melted into a shy desire as he reached out to tuck a wayward hair behind your ear.

“Tried to make it seem like I didn’t know you, to tempt me less,” he continued as he caressed your cheek. He abruptly chuckled, “but you scolding me, losing your temper, that lovely flush on that radiant complexion drives me crazy.”

His gaze and touch titled down your neck sensually. In an unconscious daze just at his touch, your head moved with his touch to give him access to your supple and exposed skin. It was only a hint of skin showing between the strap of your dress and your cardigan, but as he stroked it, it felt so forbidden and daring.

Before you realized, his face was leaning into yours. Any thoughts about what was happening completely escaped you as his lips touched yours. All you could think was that his lips were so soft. You whimpered into his mouth as his tongue expertly caressed yours languidly.

Next thing you knew, he was carrying you over to the loveseat by the window and you were moaning on top of him with him already inside you. His lips were kissing and sucking along the same spots that his fingers innocently traced earlier in a manner that was far from innocent, but still so devoting.

Napoleon Solo was a doting lover. Your pleasure was his pleasure. Usually, he’d take his time. But with you, he was more feral. Greedy. Because he knew that if he couldn’t have you, then he’d ruin you.

Your moans started to echo in the small office space as he started grinding into you as you bounced on his cock, which prompted Napoleon to brush a rough hand over your swollen lips to reluctantly muffle your sounds of pleasure.

“Shhh, be good for me, my little secret.” He muttered into your ear with his own strained groans escaping his lips. His eyes rolled back as he allowed you to grind down on him even deeper as he relaxed his body on the back of the couch. Taking control was his usual forte, naturally. Even sometimes, a role. But with you, in this moment, he didn’t have to be.

He would allow himself this one luxury of authenticity as everything else in his life was a well-told lie.

“Professor, please.” You whined against his palm and licked it in wanton desperation. You clenched tighter around his girthy cock and he grunted into your neck as the sensation.

“Fuck, gripping me so tight. You’re my good little student, aren’t you?” He moaned against your ear once more as he nipped at your earlobe seductively. The hand that wasn’t groping at your curvaceous hips stroked along your skin and in between your tightly-pressed bodies to circle your swollen clit.

“Yes, I’ll be a good student for you, Professor! Please let me cum, please!” You gasped into his mouth as he pulled you in for another forbidden kiss. He started to thrust into you wildly at hearing the eagerness in your voice, his caresses on your bundle of nerves rubbing faster.

You cried out your ecstasy as you felt that knot in your tummy unravel so deliciously. The combination of his grunts in your ear, your clit being stimulated as he drove his fat cock into your wet pussy was just too much to comprehend at once. You couldn’t believe a man as beautiful as he would even want you, would desire you. The way that you were the one to unravel him beyond what others perceived. It was the danger of getting caught that finally drove you to the edge.

Cumming around his cock that was still driving into you deep and slow, your whole body intensely shook as your orgasm seemed to last long enough for Napoleon to loudly groan out his own release against your open lips.

The feeling of your Professor’s cock throbbing out his spend inside of you felt oddly filling, you bit your lip at the pleasure-filled sensation. Napoleon felt your pussy clench around him one more time and he captured your bottom lip into his own nip as he licked into your panting mouth. The taste of you was too intoxicating, and he wanted this moment to last.

You left his office with a kiss filled with longing and a promise to see him at the next class. But he didn’t show up for the next class. He was out sick, the office reported. You waited anxiously, no other way to contact him. By the following week though, they replaced him with a new professor.

You had no idea that that would be the last of your romance with the spy. Never found out the reasons behind his words or his sudden departure. You ended up graduating with your degree and traveling the world.

The spy never forgot about you though as he fulfilled his mission. Never forgot how captivated he was by you. He glanced over his newspaper at you as you sat at the little cafe overlooking the Seine. Seeing you so confident and flitting about Paris filled him with an unconscious delight.

The passion filled experience in his fake office shined over his mind once more as he placed one foot forward towards you.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed reading this weird-subtle angst Napoleon. I know his character in the movie is depicted to be quite mischievous and daring, but I thought it would be a cool spin to the inner conflicts that a spy would probs feel under the mask.

Tag(s) List: @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @mercurial-chuckles @caplanbuckybarnes

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#steviebbboi delights #napoleon solo #napoleon solo smut #henry cavill characters #napoleon solo x female reader #steviebbboiwritingchallenge #bbboi200celebration

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vintagelacerosette · 4 months ago

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I know baby, no attachment

By the wonderful Faith @poisonedquiver & Liz @sweetbee78 with the amazing Evie @energievie as our beta!!! 👏 👏 👏 🏕❤️

Summary:

Rules for a summer fling: Rule #1 - Don't get attached. Rule #2 - don't break Rule #1. Simple enough right? A coming of age AU set at stay away Camp for underprivileged kids. Mickey has no choice to go. Ian was choosen to go. What goes on at camp has to stay at camp, refer to rules. This is a POV formed fic, alternating between Ian and Mickey. The title is taken from the song Casual by Chappell Roan

Check out chapter one out now!

Thank you so much to @gallavich-fic-club for hosting this fantastic event!!! ⛺️🎊💕

#gsc2024 #gallavich summer camp 2024 #gallavich #gallavich fanart #gallavich fanfic #ian x mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich

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un-vaticand · 4 months ago

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“Someone please get John off of the internet. He’s learning too much”

((/OOC: All three Garys are now ask-able characters…!))

#((/OOC: I gave him a redesign!!! I didn’t really know how to dress him lol.))#asks open #faith casual au #Faith modern au #answeringthings #faith ask blog #ftut #ask blog #faith the unholy trinity #gary miller #faith gary miller #faith the game #john ward

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toxickeyboard · 11 months ago

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“I think I’ve been rotting”

Drew a scene from my AU! Meant to make an actual background but couldn’t figure out how to.

Sketch under readmore.

^ I listened to this song a lot when I was making this so now I associate it with the scene (even if the lyrics don’t fit).

Also I think I need to redesign this guy, he looks too young and I don’t think the hoodie is the best choice.

I like the pose way better in the sketch lol.

#click image for better quality by the way :]#🦌ceez’sart🐍#faith the unholy trinity #ftut #faith the game #faith gary miller #gary miller #tw rotting #(< mentioned)#faith au #casual au Faith #tw eye strain #tw eyestrain #tw bright colors #cw bright colors

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mint-yooxgi · 2 years ago

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{12} - Morning Mist - Yandere!Dragon!Ateex X Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU & Dragon AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa)

Words: 10,355

Warnings: Threats, mentions of bones being reset, some blood and injuries. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Finally, a chapter I have been waiting for to write!! lmaoo my apologies if the beginning is a little slow, but there’s some big reveals in this chapter that I really hope you’ll all enjoy. The next few chapters might have some more important truths in relevance to the plot, so I hope you all look forward to that! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I do not do tag lists.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Mini Masterlist

“You made her a Drygg Promise?” Seonghwa’s voice is full of disbelief as he stares at the younger dragon across from him.

“What Jongho chooses to do with her is completely up to him.” Hongjoong casually adds, turning the page of the book he’s currently reading. Though, none of them fail to miss how tense their leader seems, the sound of paper being harshly flipped through reaching their ears each time he so much as fingers the next page.

“You understand that if you ever go back on your word, a tattoo like mark will appear on your body branding you for all to see?” Yeosang meets the youngest’s gaze, arms crossed over his chest as a hint of worry bleeds into his tone.

Those that break a Drygg Promise are branded in dishonour, marking them as someone unfaithful and untrustworthy to others. It is one of the greatest shames that can befall a dragon, for the mark can never be removed, nor the magic ever be undone. Once a Drygg Promise is broken, it can never be made again.

“I know.” Jongho hums. “Which is why I never intend to break it.”

“Keeping a Drygg Promise is easier said than done.” Yunho states, sharing a brief look with the younger male across the room.

“Did she make one back?” There’s a hint of irritation to Wooyoung’s tone, his entire body stiff as he leans against the wall.

“No,” as soon as the word leaves Jongho’s lip, the male seemingly relaxes. “This one was purely just intended for me.”

“But she agreed to it?” Hongjoong glances at the youngest out of the corner of his eyes, watching the male carefully.

“She didn’t push me away.” Comes the younger’s response.

San pouts, shoulders slumping as he sits in his seat. He wanted to be the first one to make a Drygg Promise with you. It didn’t matter what it was, he just wanted to prove to you how loyal he could be. How faithful. Especially to you.

“You know as well as I do that once the connection is made, there’s no preventing that magic from taking hold.” Yunho sighs, meeting gazes with Hongjoong. “Whether she wanted him to be or not, he’s bound to it. At least from what he’s told us, it’s just him.”

“Why would you do something so stupid?” Mingi shakes his head in disproval, turning to look at Jongho in the next second. “Least of all for her?”

“If I recall correctly, you did some pretty stupid things when you were trying to impress that one she-wolf quite a few years back,” Yeosang hums, flicking his bangs out of his eyes.

Red begins to creep up Mingi’s neck, the male sputtering briefly. “Well, at least I didn’t imprint, or do something as stupid as make her a Drygg Promise!”

“You act like it’s the end of the world.” San grumbles, visibly becoming more upset the longer that this conversation drags on.

“I did what I felt was best at the time,” Jongho shrugs. “My love for her is none of your concern.”

“It is when you threaten our clan’s quest for the crown!” Seonghwa snaps, chest heaving with every breath he takes.

“Well, maybe I don’t want to find this stupid crown!” Jongho retorts, brow tugging downwards in a frown. “It’s made you completely power hungry and desperate to rule! Do you really think that you’d make a good leader when you can’t even swallow your pride for ten fucking seconds and admit your own faults?”

“Watch it, Jongho-“

It’s Mingi that gets cut off by the youngest next.

“And you!” He seethes, rounding on the flaming headed male. “Burning every fucking thing to the ground any chance you get? Tell me, again, how your anger isn’t controlling you.”

“Jongho.” Yunho stands, moving towards the younger dragon in attempts to deescalate the situation before it goes any further.

“None of us are fit to be rulers,” he continues. “Not when half of us can hardly make decisions on how we handle things or how we feel about them.”

Yeosang’s eyes narrow pointedly.

“Not when half of us can barely control our emotions.” Jongho’s eye flash at both Seonghwa and Mingi. “We don’t deserve it.”

“Jongho.” Hongjoong’s eyes flash, his book slamming closed. “That’s enough.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about it, too.” The youngest huffs, a puff of smoke escaping his nostrils at how heated he’s become.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hongjoong’s voice is low, ominous as he slowly stands to his feet.

The scraping of the chair against the wooden floor fills the silence in the room, each male now much more tense than before. A weight has settled over all of them, looming over their heads like a thundercloud.

“I am tired of these fucking raids,” Jongho’s entire expression drops, shoulders slouching as he curls in on himself. “I am tried of having everyone fear us everywhere we go. Our clan name shouldn’t be a cause for terror, or despair. It should be one to be celebrated and supported. There is no honour in senseless violence or killing. I am tired of all this bloodshed. Aren’t you?”

A heavy silence fills the air, drowning them in the harshness of Jongho’s confession.

Seonghwa sees red.

“You’re starting to sound like that fucking huntress-“

Snarls echo around the room, yet none are as loud, or as surprising as Yeosang’s.

“Don’t call her that.” The male’s lips are pulled back over his teeth, fangs on full display.

“What’s the matter with you?” Seonghwa voices, incredulously. “Has she bewitched you, too?”

“Don’t you dare go there, Hwa.” Wooyoung takes a menacing step forward.

“Yeosang couldn’t trust her, and then he spends one fucking day with her and suddenly he’s smitten!” Seonghwa counters. “You can’t blame me for knowing that she’s put a spell on all of you at this point. The fact that she made you make her a Drygg Promise just confirms it. She’s obviously toying with your-“

“I made her that fucking Drygg Promise of my own free will, Seonghwa,” Jongho’s tone is but a growl on his lips as he cuts the elder off. “Perhaps it’s you who needs to reevaluate how you see her.”

“It’s not like we’re going to be able to change it now,” Mingi sighs, shaking his head lightly.

“Even you are acting fucking different towards her since the other day.” Seonghwa’s eyes narrow at the younger male with the flaming hair. “What’s gotten into you?”

“We aren’t as stubborn as you are, Hwa.” Yunho says, eyes flashing at the eldest. “We’ve actually taken the time to get to know her, and realize that she’s not a bad person. We can learn a lot from her. Just look at how far San and Wooyoung have come with their medicinal training in a month!”

“I’m surprised she hasn’t poisoned you, yet.” Seonghwa grumbles, diverting his gaze to the floor for a brief moment.

San, Jongho, and Wooyoung all go to lunge at the eldest. Even Yeosang and Yunho twitch slightly in their spots, but again, it’s Hongjoong that acts first.

Slamming the eldest against the wall, Hongjoong pins him with an arm across the elder male’s chest. The younger’s eyes are a deep gold, flashing dangerously beneath the moonlight as Seonghwa’s own widen in response.

“I will not have you speaking ill of the woman that has not only saved your life, but the lives of your brothers more times than I can count. She has been kind enough to extend her knowledge to us after the multiple stunts you’ve pulled against her and her clan.” Hongjoong seethes, lips pulled back in a snarl as his fangs begin to elongate. “You bring more shame to yourself every fucking day, Seonghwa, that you do not admit your own shortcomings, and apologize for your mistakes. Jongho’s right, you would make a terrible ruler. We all would.”

Seonghwa can feel his heart pounding inside his chest, the familiar bitter taste of tears beginning to form behind his eyes. He blinks them back, but from the way Hongjoong presses him harder into the wall, the elder can tell that the younger is nowhere near finished with him yet.

“Until you can fucking get your head out of your ass, you are banished from this household until further notice.” Hongjoong commands, and he can feel the way Seonghwa’s breath hitches in his throat based on the way his chest freezes beneath his arm. “Do not come back until you have both learned the error of your ways, and have apologized to the woman we owe our lives to.”

In the next moment, Hongjoong shoves himself off of the elder male, backing away from him slowly. None of the others dare to say anything as Seonghwa spares one final glance around at all of them, worried about incurring the wrath of their leader after such a tense exchange.

“Fine,” Seonghwa huffs, straightening out his shirt. “If this is how all of you are going to act, I don’t want to be here, anyways.”

Without another word, or waiting for an answer, Seonghwa storms out of the house. The crisp night air greets him, and he’s immediately shifting, taking off into the night sky without a single glance back.

The six remaining males turn to look at a heaving Hongjoong.

Yunho, San, and Jongho all blink in shock.

“You really chose that witch over your own brother?” Mingi looks appalled, lips parted in disbelief at his leader.

“Watch it, Min.” Hongjoong’s eyes flash as he turns towards the taller male. “Do you want to get banned, too?”

“Not particularly,” he shakes his head sightly, hands raised in his own defence.

“Good.” Hongjoong nods once. “Because despite what it looks like, I’d really rather not have this clan fall apart.”

“We have noticed a slight change in you, Min.” Yunho observes. “Ever since you talked with her that one day.”

“You’re less…” San searches for the proper word, “hotheaded at times.”

Yeosang says nothing, observing the scene before him with his arms crossed over his chest. Casually, he leans back against the wall, making brief eye contact with the taller male. He quirks a brow.

“She just gave me something to think about, is all.” Mingi clears his throat, a faint blush beginning to creep up his neck.

“You? Thinking?” Wooyoung voices, eyes wide in amazement. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Threateningly, Mingi takes a small step in the shorter male’s direction.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Wooyoung laughs, putting his hands in front of himself for protection. “It’s just nice to have a conversation without it all bursting into flames.”

This time, Mingi doesn’t stop himself from lunging at the younger male. In a flash, he has Wooyoung in a headlock, the younger thrashing in his arms in attempts to escape.

A long sigh is escaping Hongjoong’s lips in the next second, noticing how Jongho has seemingly slipped out of the front door in all of the commotion.

“Where’d our youngest go?” San frowns, looking around the room.

“Probably to clear his head,” Yunho responds, pulling Wooyoung out of Mingi’s grasp.

The younger male immediately starts praising Yunho, all the while sticking his tongue out at Mingi who is being held back by the taller male.

“I’ve never seen Jongho act like this,” Yeosang’s gaze is locked on the wooden floor, a frown tugging at his features.

“He’s never really been huge on the whole quest for the crown.” Hongjoong shrugs, leaning back against the side of the table. “You all know this.”

“He’s always been silent about this kind of stuff, though.” San’s brow furrows, arms crossing over his chest.

“You know as well as I do that he can get very impatient at times.” Hongjoong replies, staring out of the window as if he can see that familiar golden dragon flying in the distance. “This whole imprinting thing is probably weighing on him in its own ways. He did think she was human.”

“We all did.” Yunho hums knowingly.

“I don’t think he cares about waiting for her in terms of the imprint,” Yeosang adds. “I just think he’s feeling inadequate for her in general.”

“I think you’re right,” Hongjoong sighs once more, turning his attention back to the males standing around the room before him. “It’s frustrating when you want to learn all there is about a person, but they keep you at arms length.”

“Speaking from experience, Leader?” Mingi quirks a brow.

“I’m just saying I can understand how Jongho feels.” Hongjoong responds, tilting his head in Mingi’s direction.

“I think we all can.” San mumbles, rubbing a hand over the side of his face.

A look is shared between Yunho, Hongjoong, San, and Wooyoung. Even Yeosang spares a quick glance upwards in response.

“Trust isn’t something that’s given,” Mingi comments, already heading down the hallway and to his room for the evening. “It’s earned.”

The sound of his door swinging shut echoes through the silence that has befallen the room. Five males can only stand there in shock, sparing glances at one another at the words that have just been uttered by their hotheaded brother.

Did he just agree with something you have always believed?

Blinking, Hongjoong clears his thoughts enough to face the remaining four males before him. “Remember, don’t let Seonghwa back in unless he has fulfilled his requirements. No matter what.”

Firm nods of agreement greet Hongjoong in response, the other males dispersing to their rooms for the evening shortly after that. Hongjoong, on the other hand, steps outside, the fresh air helping to cool his heated skin and clear his head even further.

Wordlessly, he shifts into his true form, stretching his wings out before leaping into the night sky. It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick flight around the area, and maybe even check in on you this evening.

After all, he’s just doing what he should be as his clan’s leader, and making sure Seonghwa hasn’t done anything to harm you in retaliation to his decision. No other reason…

You, on the other hand, had finally been able to finish that book you had been meaning to all those long weeks ago. Your eyes are strained, and exhaustion seeps into every pore of your body as you blow out the oil lamp resting beside you.

Just as you begin to crawl into bed, you sense a familiar presence flying closer and closer to your cabin. You’ve long since sensed the other circling over the area for at least ten minutes or so, so when you feel the other, you believed it’s simply Hongjoong coming to collect their youngest for the evening.

Unbeknownst to you, as you succumb to the darkness of your own consciousness, both dragons opt to steer clear of one another. Not once do they cross paths, purposely avoiding the other as they pass protectively over your territory.

Little do any of you realize that they stay for the entire night.

The very next day, Yunho visits you with Yeosang by his side.

To say that you’re surprised would be an understatement, considering you would have expected either Jongho or Hongjoong to have brought you the news of Seonghwa’s temporary banishment. Either way, you’re grateful for the information, inviting them in for lunch all the same. A fact of which they both gladly accept, Yeosang attempting to not look too eager as this will be the first time he’ll get to properly eat your cooking firsthand.

They stay for a few hours, offering you help around your house to do some small chores in thanks for the meal. You accept, and in no time at all, have completed your small list of things to do for the day.

Some time in the afternoon, you hear both Chenle and Renjun enter your house. You could sense their presences getting closer, and you noticed that Yunho’s head lifts ever so slightly when they get about thirty feet from your door.

A subtle smile had pulled at your features at that, happy to know that your training with San and Wooyoung has been beneficial not just for them, but their brothers, too. You may not have agreed to train any of the other Halas, yet, but that doesn’t mean they cannot train each other.

Needless to say, once both Renjun and Chenle entered your house to see those two specific Hala dragons sitting in your living room with you, all sharing glasses of iced mint tea, they were shocked. Chenle immediately ran over and jumped into your lap, smothering you in his affection and noticing how the smaller Hala of the two attempted to hide his irritation. At least he did better at hiding his annoyance than Yunho.

Some time later, all four of them opted to leave you for the evening. The Halas told you that they didn’t want to overstay their welcome, to which you replied that they were welcome anytime.

Both Yunho and Yeosang had blushed at that, small smiles tugging at their features as they bid you a final farewell and took off into the sky. Of course, Renjun and Chenle shared a look between one another as this occurred, a knowing gleam shining within the elder��s eyes.

The two Neos left shortly after that, Chenle reluctant to head home as always. He promised to come see you again soon, to which you simply chuckled at, and sent them both on their merry way.

Days pass, and both San and Wooyoung happily continue their training with you. More often that not, they are accompanied by one or more of their brothers, if they don’t come to visit you themselves on their own time. It’s nice having the company, and they get along great with your Neos, so you’re no longer worried about any conflicts arising. Hell, even Mingi has been starting to join his brothers at times, a fact which surprises both you, and them, more often than not.

For over a week, none of them have seen sight, nor heard any sound of Seonghwa. You track him the odd time, just to ease the worry in Hongjoong’s mind, apparent in the way the male’s hands twitch in his own hold, and his brow creases occasionally.

How you manage to be able to find the eldest so quickly, over such a vast territory still amazes him. Hongjoong has half the mind to ask you to teach him how you do it, but he doesn’t want to overstep. Though, you seem to catch on pretty quickly.

“I’ll send a message when I’m ready to teach you,” you smile, and it’s as if that single expression lights up the entire room. Then, you’re turning towards Yeosang and Yunho. “Do you two still wish to accompany me to Rose Village soon?”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho stiffen.

“If you’ll have us,” Yeosang replies, a slight nod to his head.

“Again, I’ll send word when I’m ready.” You meet his gaze, shifting to look at Yunho in the next second. “I don’t know how you convinced Taeyong, but if he’s okay with skipping his favourite supply run of the month, then I have no issues with you two joining me.”

“If it’s his supply run, why do you have to go?” Jongho grumbles, arms crossed over his chest.

“I usually only join him on this run twice a year.” You say, turning to face the pouting male leaning against the side wall. “There’s a specific harvest festival that happens during both the spring and autumn seasons. I usually just gather the rarer herbs that the merchants bring in. Taeyong enjoys going for the flowers.”

“Don’t tell him you said that,” Renjun pops his head out your backdoor, wiping his hands on a cloth. “It’ll ruin his reputation.”

“Oh, my bad,” you playfully roll your eyes. “Big scary Neo leader likes flowers, big shocker there.”

“Wait, so it’s not Jungwoo that made the giant garden in their front yard?” San’s brows furrow, head tilting curiously in your direction.

“Oh, Jungwoo makes sure to maintain it,” you grin. “Along with dear Junnie here.”

At the way you move over to affectionately wrap your arm around the male’s shoulders, shaking him slightly, Renjun sends you a glare.

“My Neos are softer than you think,” you chuckle.

“We could still level a mountain if we wanted to,” Renjun grumbles.

“I know,” you hum, smiling fondly. “I would be upset if you couldn’t. Considering I taught you how to.”

“You can level a mountain?” Nothing but awe paints San’s features, the other Halas looking no different despite those that attempt to hide it.

“I can do many things, Sannie Boy,” you smile, though it becomes a little more unnerving the longer they all stare at you. “You just haven’t asked.”

The Halas all share a brief look between one another. None can deny the way hope begins to flood their veins, hearts beating erratically within their chests. Are you implying what they think you are? Are you, perhaps, beginning to trust them?

“Taeyong knows how to balance himself well,” you comment, shooting a brief glance at Mingi out of the corner of your eyes before turning to stare directly at Yeosang. “Wind can be harsh, and destructive, but it can also be calm, and refreshing. To every disaster, there is always hope.”

Yeosang nods, an understanding crossing his features as the others turn to look his way.

“Every power is like that,” you add, dropping your arm from around Renjun’s shoulder, much to the male’s content. “There’s good and bad in everything. What matters is how you wield it.”

“Oh, don’t start that lecture again,” Renjun rolls his eyes playfully at you, poking your arm lightly. “You have things to do.”

You shoot him a look before huffing out a laugh, “I suppose you’re right.”

“We better get going, anyways,” Hongjoong says, motioning for the rest of his clan to move with a jerk of his chin.

“We can stay and help,” Wooyoung offers, an eager gleam shining within his eyes.

You smile, “not this time.”

The way both he, San, and Jongho all visibly deflate at your response has you shaking your head, almost affectionately, at them.

“I’ll see you all again, soon enough,” you promise, waving them off. “Be safe. All of you.”

This is the first time Mingi has heard you wish them well while leaving, and he cannot deny the way his heart falters for the briefest of moments. A warmth unlike anything he’s ever felt before floods his veins, beginning from within his chest and spreading outwards. A feeling which he wants to feel more of, and soon.

Taking off into the sky, each Hala can still feel your gaze locked on them, tails flicking happily in the breeze. For the first time in a long time, they circle around one another, teasingly brushing each other with their wings, or rolling over their backs mid-flight. It makes them feel like their old selves again, a joy washing over them that they haven’t felt in a long time.

Finally, they can relax a little. Be more carefree. The weight of searching for the crown is no longer pressing against each of their shoulders, and it’s all thanks to you.

***

The tenth night after Seonghwa’s banishment from their nest, you hear a knock at your door. It’s faint enough that you almost miss it, as if whoever it is simply brushed their knuckles against the wood. However, from the presence you sense just on the other side, you know it simply isn’t just the wind.

With your guard high, and lights illuminating the kitchen, you open the backdoor.

The sight that greets you is one you honestly never would have expected, blinking mildly in shock.

There, looking even worse than the night you caught him with your dagger, stands the eldest Hala dragon. Scars litter what little exposed skin you can see of him, dirt and blood smeared against every free inch of his clothes. He holds his wrist in his one hand - the same one you broke all those weeks ago - rubbing it tenderly with his fingers. A gentle click can be heard each time he does so, the bones shifting uncomfortably beneath his skin.

His eyes are bloodshot as he meets your own, tears lining the corners and threatening to fall at any second. He keeps his lower lip caught between his teeth, grimacing as he meets your gaze.

Your nose crinkles from the stench radiating off of him, and you hear him sniffle.

You quirk a brow.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” his voice comes out small, strained from what little use he’s made of it over the past ten days.

The eldest avoids your gaze, suddenly finding the wooden flooring beneath your feet the most interesting thing he’s ever seen in his life.

“So, you decided to show up on your enemy’s back porch?” You hum, leaning against the frame of your open door.

“You are not my enemy.”

To say his words shock you would be an understatement, unable to hide the surprise from pulling at your features.

“Why did you simply not just go home?” Your tone is softer than a moment ago, and he finally lifts his gaze to meet your own.

The first of his tears begin to slip down his face. “I can’t go home.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head slightly in inquiry. “And why is that?”

He purses his lips as best he can, but he cannot prevent the way that his chin trembles.

The next moment, he straightens himself, as if in attempts to control his emotions. “Forget it.”

The way you can just tell that he’s attempting to hold on to the last shreds of his pride as he goes to turn away from you has a low sigh escaping your lips.

“Asking for help does not make you weak, Hala.” You state, noticing how he freezes in his spot at your words.

“Seonghwa.” His voice is gruff as he spares a glance at you from over his shoulder. “My name is Seonghwa.”

“And I shall refer to you as Hala until I deem it time for you to hear your name being graced by my lips.” You reply, arms crossed over your chest. “Do not forget you went after my back not once, but twice after I spared your life both times. Not only that, but you continue to insult me, and threaten me after everything I have done for both you and your clan. I have every right to watch you die right here on my back porch this very second, and revel in every moment of it.”

You do not fail to miss the way he flinches at your words, guard raising as his lips pull back in a snarl.

“This was a waste of time,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth, turning away from you once more.

“You need to work on your perception, Boy,” you state. “I never said I wouldn’t help you.”

Yet again, your words have him freezing in his tracks.

“I owe that much to those brothers of yours.” You hum. “Perhaps one more so than the others.”

“Jongho,” he whispers, turning back around to face you, approaching you cautiously all the while.

“Yes, you have your youngest to thank for this,” you nod softly, relaxing your tense shoulders the slightest bit. “He continues to surprise me every day.”

“Then you’ve-“

“No.” Your reply is somewhat firm, a gentle shake to your head. “I have not. But, like I said, he continues to surprise me.”

Seonghwa says nothing as he steps right up before the threshold of your door, that invisible barrier still keeping him out for now.

“Do you have any life threatening injuries that I cannot immediately see.” You ask him, eyes quickly trailing over the front of his torso.

You do not fail to miss the way that he seemingly shivers beneath your gaze.

“I don’t think so.” He mumbles, shifting slightly from foot to foot. Again, he rubs his wrist, the bones clicking together unnaturally.

“Alright, then you need to bathe before I treat you.” You reply bluntly.

“Excuse me?” He blinks, clearly taken aback by your command.

“Well, other than the fact that you reek for the moment, the cleaner you are, the easier it will be to treat your wounds.” You explain, a knowing look to your eyes. “Wounds that I’m surprised haven’t started healing by themselves, yet.”

“Where the fuck do you suggest I do that?” He counters, irritated frown pulling at his features.

“If you learned some patience, Young One, you would have already been told the answer by now.” Your gaze sharpens, shoulders tenser than a moment ago.

His lips purse once more, jaw twitching slightly in response.

“I will allow you to bathe inside, but the second I sense any hostility from you, I will not hesitate to reestablish my barrier.” A firm look is sent his way. “Believe me when I say: you do not want to know what it feels like to have your lungs crushed from the inside out.”

Visibly, the eldest Hala swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing from the movement.

“Do you understand?” Your eyes flash, an undertone of a threat to your words.

A brief pause.

“I understand.”

“Good,” you nod once before backing away from him slowly. “You may follow me.”

Hesitantly, Seonghwa takes a step towards your house. Slowly, he raises his one hand, testing the entranceway for that barrier to see if he’ll run face first into that invisible wall. When he feels none, a mild look of surprise crosses his features, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appears. Wordlessly, he enters your house.

The whole time you lead him to your bathroom, you keep your front facing him. Your eyes are sharp, guiding him through the house without even so much as a glance behind you to check where you’re going. Even when you reach the bathroom, you keep your gaze fixed on him while you begin to set everything up.

To say Seonghwa is a little unnerved would be an understatement. He would have thought you’d need to check your surroundings at least once on the trek to your bathroom. However, the way you watch him like a hawk doesn’t necessarily surprise him. He knows he deserves it. Hell, if he were you, he’d be doing the exact same thing.

“The towel is on the rack.” You comment, moving around him once he fully steps into the room. “Unfortunately, I cannot wash your clothes in such a short amount of time, but I’ll lay out some fresh ones on the bed for when you’re done. Don’t worry, they’re not mine.”

“They belong to your cubs, or something?” His voice is low, eyes darting almost longingly to the tub with faint steam rising from it.

“Or something,” you breathe. “I’ll be in the kitchen once you’re done. You decide whether or not you want to keep your shirt on while I treat your wounds.”

Without another word, you’re closing the door quite harshly in his face.

Letting out a low sigh, Seonghwa runs a his fingers through his hair. His whole body aches, and it’s a pain to even so much as strip himself of his tarnished clothes, but he does.

What’s even more surprising to him is how you actually agreed to help him. Sure, your guard is still high, and it’s clear you don’t trust him, but you still allowed him into your home. You still drew him a bath, and are going to treat his wounds.

Perhaps he should follow his instincts more often. Maybe, just maybe, Jongho and his other brothers are right. For once in his life, Seonghwa should swallow his pride. He may just likes what becomes of it.

Sliding into the water, the male nearly lets out a low groan at the way the warmth immediately begins to loosen his tense muscles. The faint scent of lavender and lilac fills the room, and he finds himself relaxing more into the tub the longer he lingers.

A little while later, and after Seonghwa has finished cleaning himself up, he steps out of the tub. Some of his smaller cuts have seemingly healed in the time he took to bathe, his muscles feeling looser and more relaxed.

Sure enough, once he steps out of the bathroom, nothing but a towel around his waist, he sees a small pile of clothes left on the end of your bed for him. They’re clean, but he cannot help but notice the undeniable scent of a male faintly clinging to the material.

For some reason, it bothers him.

Yet, you sure are extending a tremendous amount of trust in him right now. Maybe, you’re simply testing him. Seeing what he will do if left alone in your room without you watching over him at every turn. He could tear your entire house apart right now if he wanted to, but he doubts you would let him so much as scratch your walls. Either way, he’s still cautious. He doesn’t trust you fully yet, either.

Stepping back into the kitchen, he sees you already leaning against the side counter with your arms crossed. Jars and bowls of ointment and herbs rest on the counter before you, oil lamps spread throughout the room and illuminating the space brightly.

“Better?” You meet his gaze, not even fazed that he left the shirt you gave him undone for the moment.

A curt nod is all that greets you in response, his hand once more coming up to rub at that one wrist of his. Again, a small clicking can be heard emanating from the bones each time he rolls it.

You click your tongue. “You really don’t know how to survive in the wilderness on your own, do you?”

“Of course I do!” Immediately, he goes to defend himself, scowl taking over his features. “I just-“

You raise a hand in the air, halting his protests dead in their tracks. “You fell into a bush of wild rat thorns while chasing something, didn’t you?”

At the way he remains silent, you have your answer.

You sigh. “Are you aware of what wild rat thorns are?”

“They’re thorns, aren’t they?” He replies smartly, his features twisted into a frown.

You snort out a laugh. “You’re technically not wrong.”

“If my wrist didn’t give out on me, I wouldn’t be in this mess right now,” he snaps, eyes flashing dangerously as he meets your gaze. “It’s your fault I’m hurt.”

“Not my problem you let it heal incorrectly.” You hum, pushing yourself off of your counter in order to step towards your supplies all laid out before you. “Also, not my fault, when I was simply defending myself against your disgraceful attack.”

“I should have just killed you when I had the chance,” his scowl deepens, fangs glinting in the light of the lamps.

You sigh, shaking your head. “Do you not ever tire of the front you put up, Hala? Does it not weigh on you every day?”

The way his breath hitches is slight, but you do not fail to miss the way he freezes momentarily in his spot.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His voice is low, deadly.

“Don’t I?” You quirk a brow, leaning forward to rest your one palm flat on the counter before you. “You’re the type to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders. Every little thing that goes wrong, you blame yourself for, lashing out at anything or anyone when they try and get close. You wish to become stronger so those same mistakes never happen again, and when they do, it consumes you. You always feel as if you have something to prove, too. ‘Best them before they can best you’, am I right?”

“What do you know about it?” He hisses, his eyes glazing over as a fresh set of tears begin to prick his vision.

“You and I are more alike than you realize,” you meet his gaze. “I was exactly as you are, once. I see my former self every time I look at you, back when I almost completely lost myself.”

Seonghwa’s expression is stern, whole body tense as he stands across from you. His hands are balled into fists at his side, and they begin to shake in a barely controlled rage. His eyes flash gold.

“You know nothing.” He spits, tone but a harsh growl on his lips.

“I know more than you do, Boy,” your own eyes flash in warning, mixing some herbs together in a bowl. “I know how toxic your behaviour can be, especially to those around you. There is only so much that another can put up with, if you do not choose to change, even if they care about you deeply.”

“You don’t know me.” His voice is low, body angled towards you as if he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

“No, I do not,” you agree. “And you do not know me. But, as I have said, I have been where you are, and believe me when I say that you do not want to slip any further down that cliff. There is almost no coming back from it.”

Seonghwa smartly remains quiet, but there’s no hiding the disgust that pulls at his features.

“Now, would you still like me to treat your woulds, or are you going to throw another tantrum and storm out?” You quirk a brow, raising the one mortar in your hand and shaking it slightly.

Seonghwa takes a moment to think over his answer before wordlessly sitting himself down on the stool at the edge of your counter. His decision seems to please you, for the corner of your lips are quirking upwards as you nod once in his direction.

“When was the last time you properly ate something?” You ask, grabbing a separate bowl off of the side counter as you approach him.

The way his stomach growls is answer enough.

“That’s what I thought.” You chuckle, sliding the bowl full of berries over to him. “Eat that, and then drink this.”

Pouring the mixture of herbs into a steaming cup of water, you begin to swirl the contents with a wooden spoon.

Warily, Seonghwa eyes the fruit before him. He can feel his stomach twisting in hunger, but he’s cautious. Who knows what you could have added to these berries while he wasn’t in the room.

“I didn’t poison them, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You roll your eyes, taking a step forward to pluck a berry from the bowl and pop it into your mouth. You make a big show of swallowing the fruit before meeting his gaze. “See.”

Still, he doesn’t move.

“Look, you need to have something in your stomach for the tea to properly work.” You sigh, rubbing at the bridge of your nose with you one hand. “I can see that the herbs in the bath helped your minor wounds, but if you’ve been practically starved these past ten days, drinking this on an empty stomach won’t be beneficial to your health.”

A moment of silence passes between the both of you as you continue to stare at one another. That is, until the sound of his stomach growling quite loudly cuts through the tension.

You chuckle, a knowing look sparkling in your eyes as he grumbles to himself. He pulls the bowl of berries in closer. Slowly, reluctantly, he begins to eat the berries, eyeing you cautiously all the while.

Exhaling an amused huff, you place the tea beside him. “Good Boy.”

It’s faint, but Seonghwa hates the way his back straightens the slightest bit at your words.

“How do you know all of this?” He asks after a few minutes of stillness.

“I believe I have mentioned before that my father has trained me vigorously since I was small.” You reply. “Then again, I’m surprised your brothers haven’t shared all that they can about me in their little story times.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he mumbles, finally take a small sip of the tea you’ve brewed him.

The flavour isn’t anything special, but the more he drinks, the more strength he feels returning to his body. A warmth begins to spread outwards, radiating from the centre of his chest, heart beating firmer within. His wrist doesn’t hurt as badly, either.

“Ah,” you nod lightly in understanding. “I see.”

“The never shut up about you,” he says after a minute, staring into that now empty bowl.

“Do you still believe I have deceived them all with some spell?” Your voice is even, a hint of amusement bleeding through.

He takes a moment to think about it, hiding the lower half of his face behind the cup as he hums, “undecided.”

You laugh. For the first time in front of the eldest, you laugh.

To say the sound catches Seonghwa off guard would be an understatement, but it’s welcome, nonetheless.

“I may be strong, Hala, but deception is not something I have ever been good at.” You respond, grabbing a jar from your supplies on the counter and opening the lid. “At least, not bewitchments.”

At the familiar faint smell of lavender that fills the room when you open that jar, Seonghwa immediately know what type of ointment resides inside.

“Yes, you should be familiar with this paste,” you smile lightheartedly, watching as the tips of his ears dust a light red. “Yeosang informed me that you had run out of the last jar you stole.”

“Of course he did,” the eldest sighs, his one nail scratching lightly over a pattern on top of your wooden counter.

“Then, you know how to apply it,” you push the jar towards him.

“I thought you were supposed to be treating me?” He shoots you a brief look out of the corner of his eyes.

“I’m sure you don’t want me getting up close and personal with you any time soon,” you tilt your head knowingly. “You are more than capable of applying the treatment to the affected areas. Though, it won’t heal your wrist.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my wrist.” He counters, holding it to his chest protectively as his eyes narrow.

“Right.” You shake your head in disbelief. “And it doesn’t click every time you twist it.”

For the nth time this night, he purses his lips, but says nothing.

“It didn’t set, nor heal properly.” You continue.

“No thanks to you.” He spits, frown suddenly tugging onto his features.

“Would you like me to fix it for you?” You inquire, leaning once more against the side counter. “I can’t promise that it’ll be painless, but at least you won’t have any permanent damage this way.”

Seonghwa gently places his hand back onto the top of your counter, staring intently at his wrist.

“Why would you offer to help me? I’ve done nothing but disgrace you since we’ve met.” Seonghwa’s voice is low, words but a whisper on his lips.

“I am not unreasonable, Hala,” you reply, tone soft as if you’re coaxing a child out from hiding in the closet. “Like I said, you and I are more alike than you realize. Sometimes all it takes is one moment of kindness to show you a new perspective on life. Besides, I owe your brother.”

“I don’t understand you,” he shakes his head, lifting his gaze to meet yours in the next second. “You hold yourself like an ancient, yet you aren’t one. Why?”

“Does that bother you?” The corner of your lips tug upwards as you move to pull up another stool across from him.

“Not going to lie,” he rests both his palms flat on the table. “It pisses me off.”

“Because you hate the ancients?” You ask casually, dragging over a small bowl filled with a herbal liquid to rest before you. A cloth rests over the side, to which you begin to drag through the mixture, squeezing out the excess shortly afterwards.

“How do you know if I hate the ancients or not?” His tone is guarded, but he doesn’t look away.

“I told you, we are more alike than you think,” you sigh, wringing out the final drops of that mixture from the cloth. “Give me your wrist.”

Extending your left hand out, you hold it with the palm facing upwards to him.

Briefly, his eyes dart from your face to your hand, a hint of hesitancy to his movements. Still, he reaches out his injured wrist, placing his hand in yours gently.

Your touch is soft as you tenderly wrap the cloth around his wrist. In fact, it’s much more tender than anything the eldest could have ever expected.

A shiver caresses his spine.

“This will hurt,” you repeat your words from earlier as you meet his gaze. “Do you need to bite down on something, or will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” his reply is gruff, already preparing himself for what is about to come.

“Brace yourself,” you warn. “I promise to make this quick.”

“Will you hurry up already- fuck!”

A loud crack echoes around the room as tears spring to the eldest eyes. The fingers of his other hand dig harshly into the wood of your counter, and he’s surprised he doesn’t smash the wood with how hard he’s gripping onto it. His bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, puncturing the skin lightly. Enough so, that he can taste the faintest bit of blood on his tongue.

Softly, you coo at him, brushing your thumbs overtop of the cloth as you set his bones properly.

Seonghwa takes this time to observe you carefully. Your face holds no malice in your expression, a softness to your features as you caress his wrist. There is an air about you that demands attention and respect, but he thinks it’s not even conscious on your part. An air of which he’s drawn to, inexplicably.

His gaze shifts back to your hands, still cradling his one wrist so tenderly. His eyes lock on faint scars lining your skin, raised in uneven bumps along the surface. Though, with the way they follow a circlet type pattern around your wrists, a sort of understanding washes over him. Scars of which he or his brothers have never noticed before, until he got this close.

As soon as you’re done, it’s like a wave of calm settles over him. His chest still heaves, but he finds the pain in his wrist ebbing away with each breath he takes. The bones in his wrist are healing unnaturally fast, and he realizes with one glance into your golden eyes, that this is your doing.

“You’re a healing dragon.” He states, a sense of awed bitterness radiating off of him.

“Not quite,” you sigh, finally releasing the hold you have on his wrist and taking the cloth with you.

“The hell do you mean, ‘not quite’,” his lips curl, that familiar anger flashing within his eyes.

“My existence is a myth in itself, Boy,” your eyes narrow as you push yourself up from your spot, moving to dump the excess liquid into the sink.

“What do you mean?” His brow furrows as he leans back slightly in his seat, observing you carefully. “Is that why there are scars of iron burnt around your wrist?”

A warning growl echoes around the room. “Be careful, Boy. You are asking questions way beyond your league.”

Seonghwa takes a moment as he looks down at his own hands which he has pulled into his lap. His wrist no longer hurts. Instead, a dull warmth has settled in his bones beneath his skin. He flexes his hand. “I’m sorry.”

You drop the bowl into the sink.

A brief silence settles over the both of you, only breaking once Seonghwa clears his throat.

“Thank you for healing my wrist.” He stands, and you can only blink at him in shock as he bows to you. “I apologize for all that I have done to hurt you. I can never take back my words or actions, but I realize now that I have misjudged you. Thank you for taking care of me when I don’t deserve it.”

A few more seconds pass by with him bowed lowly to you before he’s straightening himself. A moment later, and he’s heading towards your backdoor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The corner of your lips quirk as you lean against the side of the counter.

“I fear I’ve overstayed and overstepped.” He replies.

“You’re suddenly a lot calmer than you just were a few minutes ago.” You comment. “What changed?”

Briefly, his gaze darts down to your wrists, and you sigh.

“So, seeing the scars my old iron shackles gave me was the deciding factor?” You voice, and you watch as he’s shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Again, he remains silent.

“You certainly are a strange one, Hala,” you shake your head before motioning back to the stool he had previously been occupying with your chin. “Sit. We have much to discuss.”

Slowly, he creeps back over to his seat, sitting himself stiffly on the stool. He can only watch as you slide that still open jar of ointment closer to him from over the counter.

“Looks like you now pity me in the same ways I pity you,” you hum.

“I don’t need your pity,” he retorts, snatching that jar off of the top of the counter as he begins to rub the ointment over his upper body.

“And I do not need yours.” You agree. “That does not prevent it from still being there.”

“You never answered my earlier question.” He diverts the topic. “About why you hate the ancients.”

You move back over to your own stool, tugging it a little further out from the counter before sitting back down.

“Most of the ancients hold power to the highest regard. It has been engrained into me since I was small, and took years for me to unlearn that power isn’t everything.” You begin, eyes narrowing carefully at the dragon across from you. “I guard myself as I do because my father always raised me as a weapon. I was not supposed to ever exist.”

“That does’t explain why you hate the ancients.” He mumbles, pausing only briefly in his application of the salve to glance upwards in your direction.

“I don’t hate my Uncle, but I certainly resent my father.” Comes your blunt reply.

Seonghwa nearly drops the jar in his one hand before clinging to it for dear life. His eyes widen significantly, gaze darting upwards to meet your own.

“The reason I hold myself like an ancient, Boy, is because I was raised by one.” You state, voice giving away a hint of bitterness as you speak these words.

“Your father is an ancient.” His jaw nearly drops, sitting stunned in his spot.

“He’s the one that made that goddamn prophecy, too.” You spit, pure ire shining on your face. “And if you so much as ask me about that fucking Jewel, I will tear your limbs off, and shove them down your throat.”

Seonghwa raises his one hand in understanding, knowing very well that you will hold true to your threat. Even if he so badly wants to ask. Still, he cannot help the questions racing through his head. Though, one sticks out more than all of the rest.

Do his brothers know?

“I would appreciate you not spreading this around,” you’re quick to continue. “Your brothers are not aware of this fact yet, and I would like the chance to tell them myself.”

Guess that answers that.

“Why would you tell me this, then?” His eyes narrow, shifting his gaze from the jar in his hand to you.

“You said that we are not enemies.” Comes your blunt reply, tilting your head upwards slightly and staring down your nose at him. “Prove it.”

“You confuse me.” He shakes his head before continuing to apply the salve to his injuries.

“The feeling is very much mutual at times,” you agree with a slight nod. “What confuses me even more is how you haven’t discovered your power, yet.”

The jar of ointment falls from his hand.

“Careful with that, it takes a week to brew,” you tut, raising a finger and causing the jar to begin levitating in the air before being gently placed on top of the counter.

“How the fuck do you know I haven’t discovered my power, yet?” His chest heaves, eyes sharp as he glares at you.

“I have already told you countless times tonight how similar we are,” you begin. “Why do you think I understand your personality so well? At least, most of it.”

“You’re wrong.” He huffs, arms crossing in front of his chest. “I don’t have a power. I never have, and I never will.”

“Is that so?” You tilt your head in inquiry at him, mirth dancing in your gaze. In a flash, you’ve reached beneath your counter, only to stab your dagger into the top of the wood. “Tell me, do you recognize this?”

His eyes glint maliciously, guard high and whole body tense.

“How could I ever forget the blade you almost killed me with.” He sneers, leaning as far back from you as the stool will allow.

“That’s the thing, Hala,” you meet his gaze. “It should have killed you. In two, maybe three minutes, tops. Do you know how long you lasted?”

Seonghwa remains quiet.

“Fifteen.” You answer for him. “You lasted fifteen minutes before I started treating you with the antidote.”

“So, what?” He huffs, clearly unamused. “I got lucky.”

“Diluted frost berry leaves make anyone vomit on contact with their tongue,” you continue. “You had to ingest two spoonfuls in order for it to take effect.”

“I think my body was focussing on expelling the poison at that point.” He counters.

“It had already been expelled.” You reply, somewhat bluntly. “The fact that you could even move as much as you did after everything was a miracle, but not when you think about it logically.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” He states, fidgeting in his seat.

“You told me that you fell into a bush of wild rat thorns tonight.” You place your hands onto the top of the counter, palms facing down as you lean forward. “Do you know what type of plant that is?”

He takes a moment to think before shaking his head.

“Rat thorns are one of the most toxic plants on this side of the fjord. A simple scrape from them can render you unconscious. Multiple pricks and you will become paralyzed. They are commonly used in assassinations as when their thorns are ground into a fine powder, they do not emanate a smell, nor do they have any taste.” You explain, and you watch his face drain of any and all colour. “Any other regular dragon would have died on contact, if not shortly after. The closest location of rat thorn bushes to my home is ten minutes away at top speed. You should have dropped dead within a minute. Yet, you managed to make it all the way back to my place, still breathing.”

Seonghwa begins to shake his head, standing to his feet with enough force to knock the stool he had been sitting on to the ground.

“The reason, Seonghwa, that your wounds do not immediately close when you get them,” you mirror his stance, leaning forward even further once you’re on your own two feet, “is that your body is working to expel any toxins you might have incurred during injury. Only when it deems those toxins have left your system will your cuts truly begin to heal.”

He clutches his head, backing up against the wall as his whole body shakes.

“This can’t be happening,” he mutters, tugging at his roots harshly. “This isn’t happening.”

“The reason, Seonghwa, that you are so prideful and stubborn, directly correlates to your power. A power which you have always had since birth.” Your voice softens the slightest bit, gaze easing as you notice him spare a tentative glance upwards. “Negative thoughts can be just as toxic as any physical substance, seeping in and drowning you in doubt and darkness. You just need to find the antidote.”

Slowly, his trembling stops, but those tears he had been so desperately holding back begin to streak down his face.

“You are a dragon with the power of poison, Seonghwa,” you smile softly at him, a gentle reassurance that everything will turn out okay. “Do not let it intoxicate you.”

Slowly, the male begins to sink to your floor. His back is still against the wall, eyes intently staring at his shaking hands.

“All my life,” he breathes, a light sniffle escaping him. “All my life I believed myself to be powerless.”

“Which is why I’m assuming you hate the ancients for putting so much emphasis on personalized powers,” you voice, noticing how his head shifts to look up at you from his position on the floor.

A subtle nod is all you receiving in response.

“Also why I’m assuming you’re so obsessed with this heedless quest for the crown.” You add. “You wanted to prove yourself as a dragon without traditional powers that you could be just as strong and ruthless as those with them.”

Again, Seonghwa nods, wiping at his eyes soon after.

“You will not be able to change your entire personality overnight,” you state, and you watch as he shifts his gaze back to you. “Yet, you should be aware of these things to start improving upon them. I will tell you the same exact thing I told that hotheaded brother of yours. You need to find the balance, and not let your power consume you. You are more than just your power.”

You hold his gaze as he slowly pushes himself back to his feet, wiping at his tearstained cheeks all the while. Softly, he begins to nod once more, sniffling lightly as he calms himself down.

“Thank you.” He bows to you once more, and his actions catch you off guard, just as much now as they did the first time. “For everything tonight.”

You smile gently at him in response, and Seonghwa cannot help the way his breath hitches slightly in his throat when he rights himself to see that glorious expression on your features.

He swallows thickly. Have you always been this kind? This beautiful?

You grab the jar of salve off of the top of the table, capping it carefully.

“You best be getting home for some rest,” you cross the small distance to your backdoor, opening it and nodding slightly in his direction. “They’ve all been worried about you.”

“I doubt they’ll even want to see me again,” his shoulders slump slightly as he trudges to the open doorway. “I’ll be lucky if they even let me back in.”

“Simply tell Hongjoong that you’re all finally ready to be taught.” You see confusion pull at his features at your words, causing you to chuckle. “He’ll understand.”

Despite his brow furrowing slightly, you see him nod.

“Don’t forget this,” you say, tossing the jar with the remainder of the salve in it at him, to which he catches easily. “Also, tell Yeosang and Yunho that I’ll meet them the day after tomorrow near the front entrance to my village at dawn.”

“Okay,” the eldest Hala nods once in understanding. He goes to take a step towards the forest before he’s halting in his tracks. A blink, and he’s turned back around to face you. “How can I ever repay you?”

You smile, leaning against the frame of the door as you cross your arms loosely over your chest. “I think you should be able to surmise that on your own, after everything we’ve discussed tonight.”

Understanding flashes across his features, and he nods once firmly in your direction.

“Do not make me regret trusting you, too, Seonghwa.” You say, keeping your voice level as you meet his gaze. “You will truly not like what happens if you do.”

Again, Seonghwa nods his understanding, bowing once more to you before shifting and taking off into the night sky.

A small smile rests on your features as you retire into your house for the evening. Slowly, you begin to put everything away, taking your time to clean and store the remainder of the herbs you’ve left out for the moment. The oil lamps are slowly put out until one remains in your hand as you retreat into your bedroom for the evening.

Tonight went much better than you ever expected it could from the moment you sensed him drawing near. You have no idea what the future has in store for you, but with how things are beginning to look, you believe it can only get brighter from here.

Speaking with the eldest Hala has also made you realize a few things. Things you just might be ready and willing to begin sharing with others again.

One dragon in particular sticks out in your mind.

You firmly believe that Seonghwa will keep his word and not tell the others about the personal truths you revealed to him this night. You see your younger self in him too much to believe he would betray you like that. Especially after tonight.

The fact that you wake up to a basket of fresh produce sitting upon your back porch the next morning only confirms it. Not just any produce, either, but the same exact produce that he had made you drop that very first evening. Back when you had met him all those weeks ago.

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naurimastaur · 1 year ago

Text

A prank to die for

1980s slasher au featuring the Weasley twins//

Summary: With camp’s annual house competition coming to a close, the twins take the fate of their team into their own hands, employing Fred’s nemesis Y/N along the way. Things go awry however, when someone tries to axe their plans. Literally.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

This is a bit of a long one so strap in! Ps. Requests are open

———————————————————————

Squashed between the most frustrating person alive and the wall of the abandoned outhouse toilet, was not the ideal midnight rendezvous anyone would have in mind.

“Why hasn’t George signalled to you yet? It’s been half an hour.” Y/n huffed, her head pressed against the damp wood of the wall in exasperation before she thought better of herself.

“Could’ve ran into a lovely lady on the way,” Fred replied equally agitated. “None of your sort I’d hope, wouldn’t be very enjoyable.”

“You are a freak why am I doing this with you?” She spat, venom dripping from her every word.

“Cant resist the charm, I reckon”

“Then you’re as delusional as you are ginger.”

“And yet you don’t seem to be backing out of the idea. Could it be that you wanted this alone time with me?”

“I think I’d rather be chased by a serial killer.”

“If only a serial killer hated themself enough to waste time running after you.” He smiled to himself, her irritation fuelling his triumph.

She bit her tongue, thinking back to the moment she made herself a professional clown.

———————————————————————-

“Y/n!” George called out, jogging to meet her walking pace, Fred tailing him. “We have a proposition for you. A real win-win deal.”

“We? As in him too?” She signalled toward Fred, who’s head was bowed in deep shame like a disobedient dog.

“Yes we,” George elbowed Fred before continuing. “It was his idea actually to include you.” Now that was interesting.

“The house competition ends tomorrow and it seems the trophy is missing.” Fred rubbed his previous attacked arm before continuing. “We know that Tom from your house has it hidden somewhere, and you know exactly where it is.”

“And? Why would I help you betray my own team?.”

“Because we all know Tom is a massive prick who needs humiliating, and he’d deserve it too with everything he said about you.” George looked at her meaningfully.

“At midnight tonight you will help us get it from his cabin, and George will set up the distractions.”

She was horrified at that. “Why cant you do the distracting? If I’m doing this, I’m doing it with George.”

“He can’t do much distracting when he’s the less handsome twin,” George winked. “Besides, I’m the fireworks expert.”

“This is all for the sake of a prank isn’t it? The two of you are ridiculous.”

“Pranking is within our nature,” Fred shrugged. “It would be cruel to suppress it.”

“Are you two used to people listening to the utter shite you speak, or am I the only one with the misfortune?” They both grinned at this.

“Fine. Yes. Okay, I’ll do it.”

———————————————————————

The silence was eating away at her faith. This didn’t feel right, everything was quiet. Too quiet. She couldn’t hear the chirping of the crickets, or the rustling of leaves stuck in the wind’s embrace.

“Fred we should really go and check on him. This isn’t right.”

Fred wasn’t a stranger to the feeling; in fact he felt like that every time he was parted from George. Half of his soul, half of him. It was never right, but he wasn’t ignorant to what she was feeling either.

They took off towards George’s hideout, before Fred came to an abrupt stop.

“What? What’s wrong? What is it?” She questioned with haste, before noticing a flashlight flickering on the forest ground. It was blinking in urgency; on and off and on and off. It was aggressively bright, flooding the area surrounding with artificial light. That was supposed to be George’s signal. Where is he?

“Well that’s creepy as shit,” Fred commented, taking a casual notice of a distant figure lingering just beyond the light’s touch.

George must’ve leaked our plan. He thought to himself. Useless git.

The figure began approaching however, with heavy rushing footsteps. Fred placed a protective arm in front of y/n on instinct, he felt nauseated that his natural instinct was to do anything of the sort. To her.

He stepped ahead, placing himself only a few feet away from the new person. He was close enough now to see them fully.

They had the build of a man with broad shoulders and a muscular frame. There were no eyes on their face, just sunken regions of skin where some might have been, adorned with scarred tissue. Notably there was no mouth either, just a gaping hole were one was supposed to be; A mask.

“Alright mate from one prankster to another, the costume is overkill but I applaud the dedication.”

“Fred…”y/n began to urge. Her eyes beginning to adjust to the thing adjacent. How hadn’t she noticed before?

Fred threw a dismissive wave at her.

“Look, I do honour my pride but we could collaborate on this house prank. Double the effect of the humiliation, bigger win. I’m sure Tom would shit himself at the sight of you.”

“Fred!”

“Cant you see I’m networking here?” Fred scolded, oblivious.

“Fred look at it! I mean actually look!”

Fred saw it now; the skin loose and peeling from the sides of its face, that his brain had originally convinced itself was a mask. This wasn’t a costume and that wasn’t its face. This was a creature that was figuring out what a human face was supposed to look like, but it didn’t have all the materials and it wasn’t finished learning.

He took notice of the silver point peeking from beyond its coat. An axe. A thick crimson red coating it’s blade like a second skin.

“Y/n RUN!”

“No shit!”

———————————————————————

Racing after Fred’s physical and vocal lead, the thought of her imminent death became all too plausible. Their voices were intwined in a harmonious plead for help; to warn, to scare, to do something.

They reached the first cabin, their hearts beating in a rhythmic dance. Her focus on their escape delaying the urge to search her surroundings. Or rather, lack of.

“Fred?”

“Yes?”

“Where is everyone?”

“What do you mean? They’re in their bunks surely. We’ll need to get everyone out immediately.”

“Right, and where are we?”

“The bunks.”

“And who’s here?”

Fred’s head snapped up in disbelief, noticing the empty beds around him. Before logic could grace his one remaining braincell’s lonely existence, he raced outside.

Y/n sank to her knees, reality hitting. The thump of Fred’s urgent knocks at each cabin matching the pounding in her head. Everyone was gone.

She got up, raw determination pumping in her veins like adrenaline. They needed to get to the kitchens. There would be knives there, a heavy bolted door. There they stood a chance.

———————————————————————

“Oh look you weren’t that far off with the serial killer joke earlier, you just forgot to mention the massive bloody axe he’s carrying!” Fred snarled at her, his voice hoarse from the terror clawing at his throat. The earlier fear was well gone now, the two of them already returning back to their usual bickering.

“Why the fuck is he chasing us for?” She whisper yelled at him, accusation laced in her tone, choosing to ignore his previous sarcastic remark.

“How the fuck should I know?” He shouted back, glaring at her in the process.

“I don’t know because you’re… you!” She argued, turning away from him and evaluating the cabin.

“My apologies then, it seems I left my psychic powers at home today!” He spat out, blocking the kitchen door with any object in his path.

“If he doesn’t kill you I’ll do it myself,” she huffed out, just for the sake of getting the last word in the argument.

Fred ran a hand through his shaggy hair in frustration, before taking notice of her still frame. She stood perfectly straight, like a puppet held up by its strings. Her hands clasped in a tight fist, the skin turning red from the tension.

“What?” He interrogated, purely annoyed by her presence but intrigued in her reaction all the same. “What is it?”

“If the campers aren’t here,” She turned to look at him, her eyes wide with fear. “Then who’s blood is that?”

He took notice of her face, once illuminated by the silver glow of the moonlight,now was masked by a deep maroon.

He followed her gaze, transfixed on the window in an involuntary daze. The glass was tainted red, blood gathering under it in a thick pool of bubbling heat. If it wasn’t coming from the inside, that could only mean one thing.

“We’re fucked.”

———————————————————————

A/n: I took an educational trip to a bench in the cemetery for inspo for this, just for my IBS to kick in and I had to run fifteen minutes home so I didn’t shit myself in front of the resting souls❤️ I will never try to be aesthetic again lesson learnt.

@thescrunkler @stock0hoim

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theyellowhedgehog · 2 months ago

Text

Goldfish

Snippet of my Ripple Effect AU.

Don't worry kids, it's not drug. - Probably Tim Drake

It was a nice Sunday. Damian was minding his own business in the living room casually reading his book on poisonous animals. He would focus on his book, but it is rather hard to when you have two people looking at you with judgement as if he is like a nuisance existence of a gum sticking on someone's else shoes.

"What?" he asked gracefully.

Neither Jason nor Stephanie answered for a while, only giving him stinky eyes. And when they decided to reply, it make Damian wonder if he heard it wrong.

"Excuse me?" Damian looked at them confused.

Jason puffs his chest up and hisses out, "I ask, what's like being friend with a drug dealer?"

Nope, Damian didn't hear it wrong.

Damian slowly close his book, bookmarking the page on poisonous tree frogs before looking at his one official brother and one unofficial sister.

Damian was in a good mood, so he asked them patiently, "What make you come to that conclusion?"

This time it was Stephanie that answered him, "Your rich friend that just appear out of nowhere," Tim, which Damian automatically translated, "I saw him at the corner of the alley, giving out packets to children!"

"What? Tim would never sell drugs." Damian put his full faith in his best friend.

"Yeah? Then why else would a young white rich guy with sketchy clothes be standing at the corner of the burger alley with a box behind him?" Jason shove his phone into Damian's face.

Damian saw the photo Jason took was of someone who look like Tim. Nope, that's Tim alright. The picture is taken when Tim was handing out an inflated white packet to a 6 years old child, who was smiling so brightly.

"Guys, whatever he is selling, it is not drugs." Because it clearly doesn't look like how a normal transaction with dealers would look like.

"That's what he wants you to believe!" Stephanie points at Damian.

Damian just looked deadpan at his unofficial sister, and whipped out his phone. "Want me to call him for you?"

Before they could have a chance to stop him, Damian was already on speed dial with Tim.

After three beats, Tim picked up. "Hey,Dames, What's up?"

Damian just looked amused with the look his two siblings were giving him, "Where are you right now?"

"At the burger place at Crime Alley. Why?" Tim answered without missing a beat, ignoring the 'Aha!' from Damian's call background.

"Nothing, I'm coming there. Wait for me."

Damian hung up with an 'okay' from Tim and looked at Jason and Stephanie. He stood up and grabbed his keys. "Come on, what are you waiting for?"

Jason and Stephanie grumpily followed saying, "If you warn him beforehand, he is going to hide his evidence!!"

"Yeah!"

"Just get on the car already."

When they arrived, they saw Tim. Jason looked behind him to see the cardboard box still there.

"Tim," Damian greeted. He put each of his hand on each shoulder of his two siblings' . "Jason and Stephanie are curious of what you are selling in those cardboard boxes."

Tim looked behind him, and looked at Jason and Stephanie again confused. "Do you guys want to buy goldfish?"

"I knew it!- What?" Jason stopped in his track.

Tim took out two bags of goldfish, "You want one? I'll give it to you for free." He gave one to Jason, "This one is Marti, he likes to eat alot. So you must feed him moderately." He handed one to Stephanie, "This is Juice. I think it's a female, but it's still too small to tell."

Both Jason and Stephanie were speechless.

"You were selling goldfish this whole time?!"

"Yeah?" Tim looked at them confused and looked up to Damian.

Damian hold back a smile, "They thought you were selling drugs."

"Oh..." Tim came to a realisation. He looked at his clothes and at his set up, "It does look like that, doesn't it?" he hums.

Jason points at him in frustration, "Why are you even selling goldfish in crime alley?! Scratch that, why are you even selling goldfish? you are rich!"

Tim was about to reply when they were interupped by a small voice.

"Hi, are you Tim?" it was a young girl at least 10 years old.

"Are you Risa?" Tim asked and the little girl nodded. Tim searched for something in the cardboard box and pulled out a bag of goldfish. "Here, this is the one you ordered."

"Thanks you," the little girl carefully hugged the bag and ran back to her mom who was waiting not far from here.

"Well, they were ordered. I came here so it'll be easier for them to pick up their order."

Jason and Stephanie looked like they do not buy it at all.Tim looked at his goldfish in their hands, "So, you aren't here to buy goldfish?" Ready to take back his goldfish.

"No!" both of them shouted in unison.

Damian dropped of his brother and sister and drove to the Drake manor to sent Tim home.

"Oh, you should totally come see your grandchildren!"

"Excuse me, my what?"

That evening, Damian learnt that he had 2 batches of grandchildren in Gotham and another batch in Montana.

Tim Drake's side hustle is selling Goldfish.

#reverse robins #dc comics #tim drake #damian wayne #batfam #artists on tumblr #batman

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blissfulip · 5 months ago

Text

—Legion

On AO3

Priest!Viktor x F!demon!reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Priest Kink, Blasphemy, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Flagellation, Demon Sex, Demon Summoning, Demon/Human Relationships, demon reader, AU - Canon Divergence, Post medieval era, Dubious Science, Church Sex, Roman Catholicism, Catholic Guilt, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, Shameless Smut, Masturbation, No use of Y/N, third person.

Cw: mentions of child abuse, masturbation. (separately, not related to one another)

Words: 2.4k

[A/N: we are so back yall, i think... (let me know if you want to be tagged or removed in future fic updates!)]

Tags: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @chemical-killjoy @jinxed-jk @bobobomao @queen-of-elves @thedustybunny @syren201 @thayfass @thehistoriangirl @hypocritic-trash-baby @zaunitearchives

V. (NSFW)

Preach, pray, consume, forgive, kneel, repent, repeat.

Viktor’s worn fingers traced the grooves of the heavy missal as the morning light filtered through stained glass, casting lazy hues upon the cold stone floor. The scent of incense, mingling with the earthy aroma of old wood and dust, rose in spirals as thoughts meandered like the smoke. He recited every prayer, absent from the materiality needed but without a misstep. Not a single one of the faithful that had congregated on that Sunday morning noticed something was amiss, which in retrospect made it seem like he had been doing this for a while, unbeknownst to him.

Their eyes, some pious, others wearied by life's burdens, stared back in expectation, and in their collective gaze, he intoned the familiar prayers, his voice a low murmur resonating through the vaulted space. No part of his body registered the passage of time; only the ashen-colored light that now bathed the right-most side of the altar accused the hours he had lost to the liturgy. A soft voice calling out to him gently nudged him out of his stupor.

“Father” The altar boy whispered with an outstretched hand that held the washed communion plates.

“Thank you, Tobias.” Viktor said as he reached out to grab the plates, “I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit distracted as of late.”

The boy nodded animatedly and skipped his way down to the altar again. Tobias was a lad of scarcely ten summers. Like many others—including Viktor himself—he had been ‘donated’ to the church. To everyone else, this was seen as a foolproof way to skip purgatory, a show of mercy from his parents that proved their love for him and their devotion to god. To Viktor—who was there on the day he arrived and was charged with paying his parents an appropriate amount for him—it was a desperate plea to guarantee his five other siblings did not starve to death.

Viktor looked down again, and the boy was still walking around, clad in a robe slightly too large for him, its hem brushing the floor. His small hands worked with care, putting out the candles with a long, brass taper. Viktor watched as the boy handled the sacred objects with a reverence that belied his tender age, so full of potential and untainted by cynicism. When he was done with his duties, he walked back over to where Viktor sat and stood there in silence, waiting for more orders.

“What do you wish to be when you grow up?” Viktor asked casually.

He spoke quickly, like he had rehearsed it. “A priest, like you.”

Viktor let out a small, good-humored chuckle in response and raised an incredulous eyebrow. Tobias looked on both sides like he was afraid someone would be there to hear him before speaking again.

“A stonemason, like my father.”

“Do you miss him?”

His glossy eyes didn’t escape Viktor’s, but he didn’t wish to pry for answers any further, afraid the boy’s feelings would end up triggering memories of his own. And even though Tobias quickly left after Viktor nodded in understanding, the memories he was trying to repress came flooding down.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day his parents took him away was etched in Viktor’s memory with painful vagueness. Cold hands pried him from his mother’s skirt, her eyes wet and empty, filled with a sorrow too deep for words. He barely remembered her face, and now and then, when he tried to latch onto her ghost, she escaped him like smoke. His father’s voice, gruff and resigned as he muttered it was ‘for the best’, was the only thing he managed to recall clearly. He was never able to tell if he felt sad; although his tone seemed tired, it always had, this time seeming nothing more than a feeble attempt at justification.

The heavy monastery door closed behind him with a finality that echoed through his young heart, and despite the fact that they lived nearby, he never saw them again. Stone walls towered over him, pressing in, their cold embrace devoid of the warmth and comfort he had known. Father Isidore's face, nothing more than a priest back then, loomed hard and unyielding, offering no solace.

Lonely nights were spent in a narrow cot. This was, for all intents and purposes, a better sleeping arrangement than what he previously had, but he longed for home, for the familiar sounds of his mother’s cooking and his father’s laughter as he woke up before sunrise, which had been replaced by an oppressive silence and whispered prayers. Days blurred into weeks, and the unfamiliar routine and stern discipline pressed down on his spirit as curiosity, once a joyful pursuit, became a dangerous trait to have.

He remembered the sting of Father Isidore’s cane against his skin, the punishment for asking questions deemed too freethinking. The pain on his back that burned with each strike, shame and pain mingling as his stern gaze bore into him, and the sickly feeling in his stomach when he smiled at him with the slimy insincerity of someone who believes he’s doing you a favor.

Back then, he bit his lip to stifle his cries, the taste of blood trickling down his throat that for so long he associated with fear, and now it had mutated into a morbid parade of all the wrong sentiments: pleasure, anger, and defiance. If only little Viktor the altar boy knew that the joy of discovery that was crushed under the weight of dogma and the vibrant world of his imagination that was stifled by the constant threat of retribution were once again enkindled, and by the spine-chilling yet exciting presence of a demonic creature nonetheless, he would not believe it.

The university days provided a brief respite from the oppressive confines of the monastery. The city, alive with possibilities, offered a tantalizing glimpse of freedom. The rush of independence was exhilarating, a stark contrast to the rigid discipline he had known. Yet, even as the world beyond the monastery beckoned, he found himself bound by an inexplicable sense of duty. The decision to return was made—a choice that haunted him. The familiar chains of the clergy tightened around him, the opportunity for escape slipping away.

And although each passing year brought a deeper sense of regret and the burden of faith grew heavier, the ache of what could have been was, at this very moment, no longer a constant. His path led him to where he stood now, an experience so formidably unique that it felt tailor-made for him. Did he deserve such a test from god? It depended on how you saw it. If this was a punishment, then it was fit for all the sin that blackened his soul, and he would endure it in silent penitence. But if this was a reward for being a pious servant and having endured the temptation of unbridled knowledge before, a bigger and more difficult challenge for Viktor to prove his worth, then he did not feel deserving of it.

Either way, no matter how he sliced it, he was failing. Whether this test had been put before him to teach him restraint or not, it was doing quite the opposite. She had given him a new set of eyes, and now he found a fresh and bitter perspective for every aspect of his practice that he had accepted and embraced before.

Confession was no longer a way for him to provide the people in his community with relief and forgiveness; it was a dirty show of egos for people who are disgustingly contaminated by greed and gluttony to flaunt their superiority in the eyes of a corrupt institution. Their opulent vestments were nothing more than a vainglorious boast of wealth, unfit for a group of men who made a vow of poverty to mirror the temperance of their god. The altar boys were only an unfortunate bunch of children stripped of their choices due to their inescapable place in society, a society where the poor, the vulnerable, and the young were exploited with the promise of salvation if they paid tithe and served their godly emissaries.

And then there was the liturgy. Granted, he was never too entranced by any of the rites he had to perform; they had always felt like a distant repetition of nonsensical words that he felt no real connection to, as he always felt closer to god in silent and private prayer, but now, with his unintentional new perspective, it was the aspect that felt the most different to him.

For decades, he had been taught to be passive, to repress, and to contain. To escape anything that was even remotely tempting and to be satisfied and held in contempt by the only nude body he’d ever be allowed to see, the one nailed to a cross. Why is it then that the art scattered around the church puts such an intent focus on the immaculate figures of naked men? Why is it that he is thought to rub, to whisper, and to consume in that context but is forced to repress such acts once he steps down the altar?

Viktor took a deep breath. His long fingers twirled the beads of his rosary absentmindedly as he pondered, and before realizing what he was doing, he brought it up to his nose, taking in the faint smell of roses that still lingered from when it was made. While he did that, images ran through his mind—of himself kissing the crucifix during Holy Week, the defined torsos carefully painted in the sacred images of saints, the almost ecstatic feeling brought by communion. Flashes that appeared in quick succession fused with the intense pleasure of flagellation and the still vibrant recollection of what She had made him feel.

___________________________________________________________________

He knew those thoughts would lead to these, and not only did he purposefully not repress them, but he was hoping as much. There was that distinct tension, that heightened awareness of his body, that sense of electricity that seemed to hum just beneath his skin. Something that was no longer new to him and also no longer unwelcome.

He stood from the chair he had spent the afternoon rotting away in deep thought on and lethargically walked back to his quarters. Once there and with the door tightly shut behind him, he fell on his back against the stubborn mattress, not waiting even a moment before pulling up the fabric of his cassock to reveal the tight clasp of his trousers.

His fingers trembled as they moved to untie the sash with deliberate slowness, the anticipation heightening his senses. He hesitated for a moment, as if seeking some final absolution, before he grasped his swelling desire. An almost cynical laugh escaped his lips as he began to stroke himself, the motion tentative at first, then more assured as he slowly understood the intensity of his own touch. The sensation was electric, his body responding with a fervor that he had only experienced deep in prayer.

His free hand, with his rosary entangled between his fingers, gripped the edge of the cot, knuckles white with tension as the wooden frame creaked under the strain and the beads etched small marks into his skin. As the feeling of that distracted him from the pressing heat gathering with each pump, another unusual feeling took him out of the moment.

The same bone-chilling breeze he had felt for the past few days, every time she came around. There was no fear inside of him this time and no guilt either, so when her figure became clear and visible, he didn’t flinch, freeze, or even stop what he was doing. A silent acknowledgement was given in the form of a lingering look, before the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity urged him to start moving his hand once again.

She looked at him with pleased eyes, contemptuous but not gloating. She recognized that her role had been simply one of a catalyst for something that had been inside of Viktor all along. Did she want to participate? Of course, but there would be a time for that; this was his victory to enjoy.

He continued stroking with a rhythm characteristic of someone who was slowly trying to connect with his own body, not rushed by guilt or fear. In the midst of one of the pauses he took to prevent himself from coming to his release too early, he took notice of her again, still standing opposite him near the door.

“Will you be in hell to welcome me when I die?”

“Hell is now, this, and here.”

“So there is no realm of eternal punishment?” Viktor chuckled bitterly.

“If there was, it wouldn’t be for people like you.”

“Eh, I don’t believe that.”

“Can you confidently say...” She started as she walked over and kneeled near the edge of the bed where Viktor sat, gently placing one of her cold hands over the one that gripped his cock. “...that something that feels like this is undoubtedly immoral?”

She slowly guided him up and down once again, increasing the pressure of his grip with her own as Viktor looked into her obscured eyes, mouth agape.

“Perhaps, though I’m prepared to pay the price.” He said, almost in a whisper.

They both continued moving, aided by her firm touch over his hand, and the pressure building became almost unbearable. In those final moments, his thoughts became a blur, a cacophony of want, desire, and need, with part of him wanting to touch her and another part wanting to completely lean back and let her finish him off. Instead, his body tensed right where he was, every muscle tightening as he reached his climax with a shuddering release that left him gasping for breath.

The crucifix dangled on his neck as he started to lean over.

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