#for enjoying the violence rather than shunning it

[deathdxnces]

every time irelia thinks of how much her family would be disappointed and how much they'd hate who she is i cry actually

[mint-yooxgi]

Indulgence - Yandere!Fallen Angel!Hongjoong

Yandere AU & Fallen Angel AU - First Person POV

Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Internal Monologue

Pairing: Hongjoong X Implied Chubby!Fem!Reader

Words: 2,038

Warnings: Religious themes and imagery, the typical angel/demon bs, heavy sexual themes: masturbation, voyerism. 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: Ngl, this was way darker in my head lmaooo. Anyways, Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

The Twelfth of The Feral Drabbles

Really? Broad daylight? You certainly are a wild one, aren’t you? Maybe that’s why I love you so much.

You know, it hasn’t been easy since the fall, but you have truly made the pain I first experienced worthwhile. I’ll even let you in on a little secret…

I fell because of you.

You: you’re captivating, did you know that? I’m not easily impressed, but there’s just something about you that drew me in from the very first moment I laid my eyes upon you. One of His creations that puts even the most beautiful of us to shame. You should be protected, and kept away from those unworthy to gaze upon you.

After all, I’ve always been taught: nothing less for the best!

I will keep you safe. I will worship you like you clearly deserve. You need me, just as I need you. After all, I no longer have to worry about those stupid morals or duties down here. Only you.

From my experience, humans tend to… indulge in their more primal desires at night, but you? Anyone could look into your room right now and see what it is that you’re doing. Really, you’re lucky I’m here to make sure that that doesn’t happen. No one else can see the way your hands trace over such delicate curves. No one else deserves to watch as your chest stutters with every hitch in your breath.

I only wish it were me in that room making you breathless instead.

One of the various reasons I fell, My Beloved, was due to my desire for you. You make it increasingly hard to control myself around you, not that I’ve ever seemed to have any sense of control around you to begin with. I’ve long since ached to feel your touch on me, to know what those hands feel like tugging on my hair, cupping my face so tenderly, and maybe even squeezing my ass…

Well, you get the point.

I want you, and I will do everything in my power - or rather, with the power that still remains inside of me - to make you mine.

I’ve truly never given much thought to indulgences before- no, wait, that’s a lie. I promised myself I would stop lying to you. You deserve my truth, and only my truth. You’re the only one that does. Everyone else can go visit Uncle Luci downstairs for all I care. You are the only one who matters to me now.

Anyways, I digress… Indulgence. What a strange word. To even so much as imply that basic wants and necessities are something to indulge in is completely abhorrent. Every person’s needs - angels, demons, humans - are different, and to act like an indulgence for one is completely natural for another defeats the purpose.

My brothers down below revel in the more sinister indulgences, while those stupid, ‘holier-than-thou’ chickens I once belonged to would shun them, even though the majority of us would do the same damn things. Isn’t it interesting, Beloved, that one is revered while the other is feared? What makes demons worse than angels for doing the same, horrific things?

Ah, but enough about my family trauma… Let me now focus on you.

Oh, I suppose in my tangent, I zoned out for a little there. You’ve certainly been busy in that time, not that I’m complaining. 

No. Never. I could never fault you for anything.

Unless you tried to run from me. Or you decided to fall in love with another. Or you wanted to leave me.

Okay, so just don’t do anything bad, and we’ll live- what do you humans like to call it again? Oh, ‘Happily Ever After.’

Really, I’m just lucky that you decided to move out to the countryside. You don’t have many neighbours, but really, Beloved, you never know what kind of monsters can be lurking in the shadows. Fear not, for I am here to watch over you. Always.

And gaze upon you, I do… 

Such beauty…

Such marvellous wonder…

Look at how those beautiful thighs part, practically begging for me to be between them right this very moment. Look at the way your legs tremble, and you’ve still yet to touch that gorgeous cunt of yours.

It’s a shame really. I should be the one giving you such sweet release. You shouldn’t have to do this on your own.

No! Don’t cover your mouth with your hand! Let me hear you!

Oh my… That was close… I almost smashed my hand through your window, Beloved. Do you see what you do to me? I told you I can hardly control myself around you, but you can’t blame me. You just have such a strong affect on me…

Such a perfect scene spread out before me, and you want to taint it by muffling your sounds? What am I supposed to do with myself if I can’t hear what you sound like whimpering and whining for me? How is that fair?

I want to know everything about you. I want to consume you in the best of ways, just as you have enraptured me with your very soul. Let it shine beside my own, a brilliant white to contrast my now scorched wings. Wings that now brand me as a Fallen with their blackened feathers.

Black feathers are meant to be a sign of shame amongst my kind, but all I can feel is pride. You have given me hope for a new life, and I would fall all over again if it meant spending even one second with you.

I love you, My Beloved, and nothing will ever change that.

So, please, won’t you open up to me?

Yes… That’s it, Beautiful, just like that. Cup those gorgeous breasts for me. Imagine that those are my hands holding you so. Feel my fingers pinching your nipples, my tongue flicking against your skin.

How I long for the day where I can finally touch you. I want to be able to bring you to new heights, and show you pleasures that you’ve never even dreamed about. You should be taken care of with the utmost attention, and I promise you that that is what I’ll do. I’ll take my time worshipping every dip, every curve of that wondrous body of yours. I’ll make you sigh my name like a prayer, nothing but the most intricate of praises delegated unto you from my lips.

Fuck- spread those legs for me. Let me see all of you in your glory. Let me discover my own personal heaven on earth in you.

My Beloved… is this all for me? Is the way your essence drips out of you because you long for this, too? It must be. There’s no other that could make you this wet, no other that could have you trembling just from the mere thought of them and what they could do to you.

I’m glad to know I’m not the only one able to affect the other like this…

Oh, Beloved, you really are putting on a show just for me! It’s like you can read my mind!

Perhaps… No. I shouldn’t be so bold.

Then again, after everything that’s happened, why shouldn’t I be? I have long since submitted to the fact that I am yours, and you are mine. There’s no doubt about it, not when I feel this strongly for you.

I must get closer, this glass separating me from you is burdensome. I need to see you, unobstructed. I need to be able to hear your every sound, unfiltered.

I suppose I should be grateful for my wings now, the black blends right in to the shadows my brothers downstairs revel above all else. I’ll admit, I’m not quite used to hiding in corners. We angels typical love standing out, but for now, I’ll lie in wait. It’s much better for the both of us this way. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to see me even if you tried.

Oh, Beloved, look at you… How the mere sight of you, hand teasing at that gorgeous pussy, nearly brings me to my knees. The way your lips are parted as little breaths escape you while your eyes flutter shut and your nose scrunches is the most captivating sight I have ever had the pleasure to behold.

My only wish is that you could see the effect you have on me. Like you, my whole body is heating. My hands tremble, and my legs shake. Hell, even my wings cannot help but flutter in anticipation as I sneak my own hand down the front of my body. I’ll allow myself the pleasure of touching myself in time with you. I’ve only ever dreamed about it a countless amount of times before, anyways.

Dearly Beloved, won’t you give in to yourself? Give in to any and every desire you’re currently thinking about.

Touch yourself for me…

That’s it, Beloved, let me hear the wet drag of your fingers through that dripping cunt. I want to drown in your pleasure with you, don’t hold back.

Now I see why you covered your hand with your mouth…

It truly is hard to keep quiet when there’s such a temptation spread out before oneself. You are the greatest temptation I have ever known, and if I didn’t stifle my moan just now, you would have know that someone else is in the room with you. Well, we can’t have that, now, can we? You’d get scared and stop what you’re doing, and I wouldn’t be able to comfort you when you needed me most.

Fuck- there is no sound more holy than the breathless way you whine from such a simple touch.

Does that feel good, My Beloved? Are your fingers enough, circling over that delicate little clit of yours? Wouldn’t you rather feel mine? What about my tongue? You’d let me have a taste of that intoxicating nectar that flows from your pretty cunt, right? You’d let me get lost in you for however long I’d like? I’ll always give you everything you could ever want, My Beloved. My fingers, my tongue, my cock. Everything.

All that I am, is yours, Beloved. I hope when the time comes, you can say the same for me.

Oh, Beloved… do you know how fucking sexy you are when you moan like that? Do you know how it makes my heart stutter to hear you get lost to your own pleasure; how my cock aches for you? You must, otherwise you wouldn’t be tempting me like this.

I’m honestly embarrassed by how close I am already. I’ll have to work on that if we are to make love all night long when the time comes. And it will. I will make damn sure of it.

For now, why don’t you come for me? Rub that little clit, and come for me. Don’t hold back now, I want to see you. In all of your raw glory.

Yes, yes, yes, that’s it! Don’t stop now, Beloved. Let me hear you scream for me!

Fuck- I can practically taste you on my tongue already… look at that gorgeous pussy, just fucking fluttering in bliss. 

So beautiful, and all mine.

Wait a second… I taste… blood.

Oh, I suppose I bit into my hand to keep myself quiet while I came with you. No worries, I’ll heal in the blink of an eye. Getting to see you come apart like that for me, though… priceless.

I wish I could stay, but I think one of my wings knocked into one of your picture frames on the wall, and I think you heard it despite the blissful haze that still clouds your mind. The last thing I want is to get caught like this. It’s not proper of me.

Really, what would you think?

I hope you didn’t catch that soft giggle of mine as I left your room, My Beloved, and I certainly hope you don’t discover any of my feathers I may or may not have left behind for you. If that’s that case, and you finally learn of my existence, my devotion to you… well, whatever on earth would I do?

[heesdreamer]

Author 😩 you’ve made me want to see a jealousy scene from the YMM universe just to see how hee would react to the person and how he’d take react with y/N too. What do you think he’d be like? You have me hooked !

small drabble to answer this lol

PAIRING ➩ you make me universe! heeseung x reader

WC ➩ 2k

WARNINGS ➩ violence and drunk ppl, unwanted touching, all the stuff that comes with this hee like obsession and toxic behavior

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ can’t stop writing them lol sorry

Heeseung’s hands were shaking where you were holding onto them, tightly clenching his wrist and staring up at him with furrowed eyebrows and a frustrated expression on your face.

He wasn’t looking at you, rather staring past your shoulder back down the street you’d just had to drag him away from and you watched his chest rise and fall with heavy heaves that made your stomach turn. He resembled a riled up dog slightly, pacing back and forth a few steps in front of you like he was mentally calculating a way to get around your frame as fast as possible.

“Are you fucking kidding me Hee?” You were hissing out at him and his eyes flickered down to yours for just a second, a wild expression on his face that was different from the one he normally gave you. “You’ve been off probation what.. maybe 2 months? And this is what you do?”

“Me?” His lip was snarling up and he was shoving a finger into his chest for emphasis, glaring down at you but you watched his eyes shift into a softer look when he took in your expression. You knew his anger wasn’t directed at you but you felt slightly taken off guard by what he had just done, never actually seeing the side of him he so often warned you existed. “Did you see the way he fucking looked at you?”

It was a month before graduation and, for reasons unbeknownst to you, you’d been invited to a celebratory party by one of Sunoo’s friends. Heeseung had raised an eyebrow when you brought it up, laughing it off before realizing you actually seemed to want to go.

You knew he didn’t like parties, especially ones he wasn’t even directly invited to and that contained nothing but your classmates who had practically shunned the two of you for the better half of a decade, but you felt like it was your last chance to have a relatively normal high school night and you’d squealed in delight when he had smiled and asked you what he should wear.

He was definitely pretending to be a good sport for your sake only, his arm tense around your side when you entered the packed house and you could feel the anxiety radiating off of him as he nervously looked over his shoulders.

Still, ever the sweet boy you’d first met, he gave you soft smiles every time you glanced up at him to check his mood and he even danced with you a little bit when you’d grabbed his hand and pretended to do a twirl. Overall, things were going better than you had expected outside of some initial nerves and awkwardness and you enjoyed seeing Heeseung in an unfamiliar space.

Then he was needing to use the bathroom, routinely sipping from his cup absentmindedly throughout the night without realizing it.

He’d softly leaned down to whisper in your ear, lips tickling against the outer shell and you leaned into his upper body to listen to him. He’d vaguely told you how he wanted you to come with him, hand sliding down to your hip to squeeze against the bone and keep your bouncing attention on him.

You didn’t recall telling him no but apparently you had, whispering back to him that you would stay where you’d been standing all night and make sure nobody messed with your drinks or took your spot. Heeseung had looked hesitant and glanced around the party nervously for a second before he was nodding his head, kissing your cheek swiftly before disappearing into the crowd to find a place to go the bathroom.

It wasn’t long before you were understanding his hesitance, normally sharing the same inner alarm system but you’d apparently drank just enough to start to make dumb decisions.

You could smell the boy who had approached you before you actually heard him speak, strong waves of alcohol and something you assumed was vomit rolling off of him and you immediately regretted placing yourself in a corner considering there was no where for you to scurry off to.

“Y/N, right?” You were surprised his voice was coming out slightly coherent, slurring into a mess but making sense nonetheless. You glanced at him with a guarded expression and nodded swiftly, recognizing him as one of your classmates but not remembering his name. “And is that your boyfriend? The tall kid with the glare?”

The question took you off guard for a few seconds and he immediately picked up on your hesitation, his lips curling into a nasty smirk like he was excited over the fact you didn’t immediately claim Heeseung as your partner. You weren’t exactly sure what the two of you were, being content with the fact he didn’t even glance at anybody other than you and never directly confirming if you were in a relationship or not.

You belonged to each other and that was enough for you for now, but apparently not for the drunk idiot who was slowly leaning forward closer to you and nearly toppling his drink onto your clothes.

“So.. no then.” His voice was shifting into a lower tone that you assumed was meant to be flirty, but your stomach curled in disgust and your hands anxiously reached up to tug on your bunny ears. Your frowned deepened when you remembered you hadn’t worn it, much to Heeseung’s disappointment, and you curled into yourself.

You imagine from the outside it was obvious how uncomfortable you were, even more so when his hand came up to reach out for your arm and your face crumbled in anxiety, but the boy either was too drunk to notice your panic or he simply didn’t care.

You didn’t a chance to find out considering the second his hand connected with your skin, he was flying back into the wall and immediately bouncing off. You let out a loud gasp when he slammed forward onto the ground and his drink splashed everywhere, a low groan slipping out of his mouth at how hard he had been thrown backwards and away from you.

Every head around you turned in your direction, flushing bright red at the attention as you turned to see what had connected with his body hard enough to cause that. You realized it was Heeseung only when he was quickly storming past you to pick the boy up off the ground, keeping his collar tight in his fist and slamming him back up against the wall.

The boy let out another groan at the feeling of his back connecting with the hard surface, still reeling from the way he had hit the ground just a second ago. You couldn’t see his face but you could tell how tensed Heeseung was just from his back, radiating something dark and dangerous as he held the boy up and whispered something you couldn’t hear at first.

You watched in horror as the boy seemed to come to his senses and realize everybody was watching him be manhandled and humiliated, face twisting in anger before he was raising his hands and shoving them hard into Heeseung’s chest.

Your eyes were wide with fear when he skidded a few inches before stopping, able to see his face for a second now and catching the glare in his expression before he was moving forward again. The crowd surged into another gasp when his fist was pulling back and connecting with the boys face, a sickening crack sounding out underneath the pulsing music and your face was dropped in pure panic at the sight in front of you.

The drunk boy was attempting to put up a fight but it was clear immediately he was out matched, only getting a brief hit or two in before Heeseung was pulling his arm back again and sending more hits pummeled into his face.

“I should fucking kill you.” His voice was hitting your ears now and slightly snapping you out of your shock, taking a few steps forward before realizing you didn’t feel positive he wouldn’t accidentally hurt you for trying to stop him. “I should kill you right here for touching her.”

You were sucking in a big breath and deciding to anyways, coming to the conclusion that you weren’t actually sure Heeseung was going to stop. The thought made your stomach turn and you didn’t want to believe it was true but you’d never seen him this angry before, not even fully believing he was capable of hurting somebody as much as he was right now and he wasn’t relenting at all in his swings even when the boy was sinking to the ground.

You were catching his arm in mid air, his strength jolting you forward drastically and his head immediately whipped around to glare daggers at whoever had touched him.

His face immediately crumbled when he saw that it was you and his eyes scanned your face to see if he had hurt you, worry coating his features. His lip was bleeding slightly from one of the punches the drunk boy had threw and your stomach turned uncomfortably again. You were tugging on his arm instinctively and he was immediately getting off the boy, dropping his limp body and letting it smack against the ground before turning towards you.

You awkwardly scanned over the ground with a fearful expression, seeing the way they all glared and whispered like you were the main attraction at the freak show.

You could feel tears budding in your eyes and you parted your mouth to attempt to say something that could calm down the situation but you came up blank, mouth opening and parting before you were snapping it closed and taking Heeseung’s arm to swiftly drag him out of the party.

Now you were stood a street or two away, blocking his path and watching as he rambled and tried to calm himself down and resist going back there and finishing off the boy as he recounted what had happened. You watched him with an exhausted expression, frustrated he didn’t seem to understand where you were coming from.

His eyes were snapping down towards yours and he sighed softly, reaching forward to wrap his bruised and bloody hands around your face and you closed your eyes in a wince. “Don’t be mad at me baby, please. I’m sorry.. I just…”

“I don’t know what happened, I just lost it seeing him touch you like that.” He was trailing off as he spoke and he sounded flustered, his eyes no longer pulled back into a glare and instead big and round like they had been when you’d met him.

“Heeseung.” You were whispering his name to try and get his attention back on you but his face dropped at your tone, clearly disappointed in him for what he had done. You could see the insecurity clear on his expression now and you knew he must’ve been overthinking about your mood and fearing you were going to leave him for how extremely he had acted.

“Bunny I’m sorry.” His voice was sincere and desperate, eyes wide as his thumbs gently caressed your face and you took a few steps closer to him so you were pushed against his chest.

He didn’t say anything when you were reaching up to hold onto his shaggy hair, pulling him down into a slow kiss. You could hear him let out a hiss under his breath when your tongue swiped over his busted lip and you faintly tasted the blood that was still coming from the wound, pulling back from him for a second to stare up at him.

“You can’t do stuff like that anymore.” You were warning him in a whisper and his face was unreadable, looking down at you with an almost intoxicated look.

He always stared at you in the same way, like he was hanging onto your every word and worshiping every breath you took. Your eyes were scanning over his face and the bruise that was forming near his jaw now, standing on your tip toes to press a kiss against it before sighing softly at him. When you were back to your normal height, he was kissing you again deep on your mouth and you let out a low hum of surprise into it.

“I love you.” He was breathing into the kiss and your entire body froze for a second before it was relaxing and melting into him, pressing yourself completely into his chest and tilting your head so you could taste more of him in your mouth. “I’ll be better, I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

You were leaning your head back, keeping your chest against his and you could feel his hands going down to hold onto your hips and keep you there, looking up at him and nodding your head softly.

“I know you won’t.”

“I love you.” He was breathing into the kiss and your entire body froze for a second before it was relaxing and melting into him, pressing yourself completely into his chest and tilting your head so you could taste more of him in your mouth. “I’ll be better, I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

You were leaning your head back, keeping your chest against his and you could feel his hands going down to hold onto your hips and keep you there, looking up at him and nodding your head softly.

“I know you won’t.”

[hobbitsetal]

Oooh yes I always enjoyed your faith media and art tag discussions

So one thing that I consider very important to art is its role in reflecting the world and in reflecting truth. In its various forms--poetry, song, prose (from fanfic to novels to essays), movies, tv shows, what have you--art has the gift of allowing us to feel seen and heard, or of allowing us to see and hear those who are different from us.

I have never been a nineteenth century aristocrat, but I know random facts about the French Revolution because I was obsessed with The Scarlet Pimpernel and with Rafael Sabatini's oeuvre as a teen. I've never been on a life-changing trip ala LOTR or Narnia or what have you (though visiting Ireland was really cool!), but I have traveled extensively through books.

The use of books and stories in developing empathy is a well documented one. Books allow us to identify with others and to gain insight into other ways of thinking and being.

Whether you want to explore the excesses of the early 20th century with Gatsby, the backwoods and Mississippi River and growth out of racism with Huckleberry Finn, or the drama and sly humor of the Georgian period with Jane Austen's characters, whether you want to struggle with Sam Vimes of Discworld, or learn to trust and grow with the Pevensies, media can help you do that.

Which brings me to the spicy take. Growing up and for many years thereafter, I met (and was taught to meet) any depiction of queer characters with disgust and outrage. When Shiro in the newer Voltron animated series was revealed to be gay, I and other Christian fans lamented what we perceived to be a disgusting corruption.

Since then, I've changed my views. Queer people exist. That is a fact of life and society. And if art is to reflect truth, art should reflect the reality that LGBTQ people exist and have existed for documented human existence.

Personally, I think the best art can include other people's points of views in a neutral way. There are queer people who consider themselves Christian, who seek to love and honor God and to care for their neighbors. There are Christians who believe being queer and Christian are mutually exclusive. Both of these views, and the range in between, deserve to be examined.

And there are plenty of stories in which Christianity simply isn't a factor, like Voltron. The story is concerned with other things, and deserves to be engaged with for those other things.

A prime example of this is the show The Dragon Prince on Netflix. The show contains multiple queer characters, and I know that fact alone is enough to turn many Christians away from ever watching it. But they are missing out on a truly beautiful story.

The core of The Dragon Prince is good versus evil. It is about good people struggling against their own potential to do harm as they fight a far greater evil. It's about seeking to bring peace to a suspicious and angry continent, about love and mercy triumphing over hate and violence.

It is, frankly, a show so soaked in Christian values that it is one of my favorite shows of all time, though it is not a Christian show.

And it contains queer characters.

Queer people, shockingly, are people. They are not a monolith, and their values run the gamut of other people's values. Too much of Christianity shuns them and others them. So there's my spicy take: Christians should consume media with queer characters and engage thoughtfully with the depictions and the values, rather than saying "ew LGBTQ" and closing their eyes.

Why do we believe what we believe? What are the implications of our beliefs? Why do others believe differently? And how can we engage those questions meaningfully unless we engage with the Other?

[cyberneticatoms]

no way is that ANDROS LUPIN..they’re a 26 year-old SYNTH notoriously known for being SENSITIVE & PASSIVE but there are some people who have seen them being IMAGINATIVE & SUNNY-DISPOSITION. if you ask me, they remind me a lot of the salty taste of your own tears, the cold ice against your fingertips, and grinning through it all, but that could just be because they’re considered the MARTIAL PACIFIST around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through..

↳ 𝚀𝚄𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙵𝙰𝙲𝚃𝚂

NAME:  Andros Shun Lupin NICKNAMES: DATE OF BIRTH: August 4th (26) HEIGHT: 5'10 AFFILIATION: Neutral OCCUPATION: Professional Figure Skater FACECLAIM: André Lamoglia

TW: child abuse, physical violence

↳ 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳

❖ Andros' dad was a famous hockey player who wanted sons to carry on his legacy. He specifically went for traits that would make them competitive and ambitious, without any remorse. ❖ Andros isn't really sure what went wrong or how it happened, but other than having some ambition he did not end up at all how his dad planned. Sensitive almost to a fault and someone who'd rather talk things out than resort to his fists. ❖ He did like playing hockey, but it wasn't really the sport he loved, it was getting to spend time with his big brother, Phoenix. At one point the rink has been double booked and his hockey team was forced to share space with a group of figure skaters. ❖ He was almost immediately entranced, wanting to move like they did. He started sneaking around, using what spare allowance he was given to pay for classes. Ironically figure skating made him a better goalie for the team, learning how to easily move his body on the ice. ❖ Eventually Phoenix found out and Andros was terrified over what his brother would do. Though he simply asked which Andros would prefer to focus on, hesitating before admitting he'd rather figure skate. ❖ He was more than a little stupefied later that day when Phoenix and their dad ended up in a fight. Feeling guilty when he found out it was cause their dad had been threatening Andros’ life. He barely managed to stop Phoenix from killing their dad, the two of them leaving that night and living out of motels. ❖ His brother refused to tell him how he was earning money for them both to keep skating and survive. Eventually they were found by Oda Lupin who brought them home to their wife Phoebe. ❖ For the first time Andros felt like he could actually breathe and relax. His excitement only growing when after staying with them, the idea of adoption was brought up. ❖ It was the best and worst day of his life, he became a Lupin officially but lost Phoenix when he ran away. No amount of reassuring or reaching out would get his brother to budge. ❖ The second worst day of his life was when the Mafia broke Phoenix’s legs after refusing to throw a game. He's still not sure if the men would have eventually killed him and Phoenix, but Oda had arrived  ❖ The rest of the night was a blur, with Oda and Phoebe promising things would be alright. Andros believed them, especially when Phoenix moved back in along with being formally adopted.  ❖ Now that his brother has mostly recovered it feels like things are finally settling down. With Andros just trying to enjoy the relative peace they have now.

↳ 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙲

• Tries to find inspiration anywhere for routines, from ballet performances to watching people dance at the club.

[edosianorchids901]

And If I Don't Belong

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "against the flow"

Crawley had hoped, for a while, that he might fit in better after Falling. Being around other beings who had rebelled seemed like a good thing. Maybe they’d understand his constant questions and need to understand better than Heaven had.

He’d quickly lost all illusion of fitting in with the other denizens of Hell. Asking questions meant getting the shit beat of out him. Hell was just like Heaven, although at least Hell’s violence wasn’t passed off as being “for his own good”. It was more honest, really.

But it still sucked. He gritted his teeth against the pain, arm hugged over his broken ribs. Even now, trudging down Hell’s dank corridors, he was going against the flow. All the other demons were heading deeper in, squabbling with each other as they went.

Not Crawley. He was going to Earth, to “make some trouble”. And, even though it was yet another tendency that annihilated his ability to fit in, he hoped it would be better there.

---

Aziraphale had never managed to find his place in Heaven. He was truly a horrible platoon commander, not nearly bloodthirsty enough and terrible at keeping the paperwork organized. And he’d been an even worse guard in Heaven, constantly distracted by the view of Creation outside the high glass windows.

He’d tried to fit in, for a time. To join in the chatter of the other angels. But no matter how hard he studied the other angels’ interactions, he could never slide seamlessly into conversations as they did. Whenever he tried, he was immediately shunned. Sometimes even struck.

It was rather unpleasant. His mouth still smarted from the hard slap he’d received from Gabriel earlier, for asking why God wanted him, of all angels, to guard the gate of Eden. And now he was trudging down Heaven’s bright corridors, going against the flow of angels heading deeper in.

Not Aziraphale. He was going to Earth, set in place to guard over Eden. It was sacrilegious, really, to think that Heaven was anything less than perfect, or that Earth might be preferable. And yet, he hoped it would be better there.

---

The rain drummed down, pattering against the fluffy white wing. Crawley glanced sideways at the angel behind him, who was smiling slightly despite getting completely drenched. Light curls plastered to his brow.

So far, their conversation had gone pretty well. It was the longest Crawley had talked to anyone in ages without getting hit. Which really meant he should keep his damn mouth shut, not push his luck.

But he’d never been good at not pushing his luck, keeping his mouth shut, or not being curious. The questions just slipped out. “What’s your name? And what’re you smiling about?”

The angel looked to him, eyes wide, and Crawley flinched. Stupid, he’d been so fucking stupid, the angel would probably toss him off the wall…

But instead, the angel smiled brightly. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I forgot to introduce myself, didn’t I? I-I’m afraid I’ve never been very good at, um. Socializing.”

“Me neither.” Crawley waited a moment for an answer. None came. “So, er.”

“Oh! Aziraphale. I’m Aziraphale.” The angel—Aziraphale—ducked his head and glanced up at Crawley, almost shy. “I don’t know why I’m smiling, really. It’s just that the storm is quite pretty, and I… I’m not used to people um. Talking to me.”

The anxious words resonated deep in Crawley’s chest, and he flashed an easy grin. “Gosh. Me neither. S’ kinda fun, yeah?”

“Quite! I’m enjoying it.” Dripping wet, Aziraphale gazed out at the horizon. And then he glanced to Crawley again. “Why are you smiling?”

“Hn, same reason I guess. The storm is pretty cool, and…” With a little shrug, Crawley hugged his arm across his ribs again. He’d healed them, but they still smarted. “Like I said, I’m not used to people talking to me either.”

And he wasn’t used to trusting anyone. It wasn’t a demonic thing. But somehow, he trusted this angel.

---

Aziraphale regarded the demon beside him. Heaven had always been so clear about what demons were: evil, depraved, cruel. But Crawley wasn’t any of those things, as far as Aziraphale could tell. He was quite friendly, and apparently quite happy to talk to such an awkward angel.

And so, Aziraphale did something very unangelic. He gestured to the Garden. “I-I don’t suppose you’d like to talk more, would you? Technically, I wasn���t supposed to be walking in the Garden, but I found the loveliest little alcove. Almost a cave, but not quite. It would be rather shielded from the rain.”

The golden eyes went wide, and Aziraphale braced for rejection. For Crawley to snarl at him with disgust, to say something like "why would I want to do anything with you" before storming away.

But instead, Crawley gave a brilliant smile. “Terrific. I’d love that. And you’re pretty soaked, s’ probably good for you to get out of the rain too.”

Aziraphale had not, in fact, even noticed how drenched he was. It had felt so good to talk to someone—and to be able to help them—that he’d entirely forgotten. “I suppose it would. Shall we?”

“Yeah.” Crawley gave an almost shy look, as if he’d never been invited anywhere before.

The loneliness in his eyes resonated deep in Aziraphale’s chest. He flew down gracefully, watching to be sure Crawley was with him. They both landed on the wet grass and smiled at each other.

And then, chatting, they went into the Garden together.

[antiqueginger]

Hello!

So it has been 5 days since I discovered the hijack pairing… and I love it. I got to your fic… and I love it.

And I found your Tumblr… and I loved the memes.

Your writing is very fluid, and I can easily lose myself in the character’s mindset. I hope to see more of your work. I am aware that it takes time to work this magic, so I am patiently waiting.

Have a good day and once again thanks for the good read.

I- please! That’s so sweet! I’m so glad you’re enjoying it! The next chapter is done and just needs editing and the entire story and most of the sequel is outlined. I’m so excited to share this with you! Actually… while we’re here-

Have an excerpt from Chp 8. Lonely Warmth

Jack had found himself in the arena this time. Waking early had never been anything out of the usual. He normally went straight for the forest but his body still hurt from the night before. Exploring the trees may be unwise.

But standing in the center of the large ring of canvas felt isolating. He was no more than an ant in a world that rejected him. It was probably for the better that he didn’t have his ice and the winds shunned him. Jack shuddered at the idea of the wrath of the local spirits catching wind that their territory was being invaded by an outsider- especially a Guardian. The Norse already hated him enough for being a winter spirit alone.

“You think loud,” a dragon purred.

He spun on his heel to find Meoreia herself sitting not far from him. She stretched her paws in front of her in a cat-like lazy grace that also had her wings stretching wide and almost hitting him in the face. From the way she glanced at him when he guided her wing tip from his nose, the invasion was completely intentional.

“What are you doing here,” he asked. He didn’t bother with the Draconic that she said made him sound like a child.

She only tilted her head and trotted over to the rack of weapons. “Prey are violent. Is Jack violent?”

He shook his head, holding his spot in the center of the arena and leaning on Twiner. “I’m not. I’ve had my battles and refuse to cause more harm. I would rather resolve things peacefully if I can.”

She hummed a quick merlp as she continued to pace. “Many prey that speak that wear skin of our kin.”

“I mean what I say. I exist to keep the balance. I can’t do that by putting more violence into the world.”

“Then show why you come so early to place of violence.” She sat against the wall next to the very box that Jack so often claimed as his own. Humor glinted in her eyes as she laid down and folded her front paws over each other. “I protect from intruders.”

He grumbled, spinning Twiner over his fingers as he approached her with long strides and leaned it against the wall next to her.

“There’s a kid I look after back home that practices a meditative type of fighting. I find it relaxing too. It reminds me of raw magic and the winds.”

Meoreia nodded and gestured to him with her nose. “Then show, I watch.”

[ecargmura]

I Finished The Teal Mask DLC, So Here's My Review!

The DLC of Pokemon Violet came out on Wednesday. I beat the main story as of today, September 15, 2023—two days after its release. That’s the fastest I’ve beaten a game. I’m still trying to finish completing my Pokedex, but here are my overall thoughts about the first part of the DLC from my likes to my dislikes; also, a warning: this review contains spoilers for the overall DLC from story to characters.

Setting

What I liked about this DLC was the fact that players can travel to a new region for a school trip. For this story, the player goes to Kitakami, a small region that has a lot of Japanese influences for a joint excursion between the player’s school and Blueberry Academy, a school located in the Unova region. I love the aspect of exploring a new region outside of the main one and immersing myself into the new experience.

However, while Kitakami is a magical place, it’s highly unfortunate that there’s only one town in the region so it looks rather empty save for the vast amount of land where Pokemon reside. I’d like it if there was a few more towns other than Mossui, but that’s just a nitpick on my part. Despite that, I do like the rural vibes Kitakami gets. I also wonder if Kitakami is a separate region in itself or if it’s connected to a bigger city where Blueberry Academy is—the school is in the Unova region, but Kitakami is treated as if it’s a whole separate region outside of Unova. Someone, please tell me if this is a part of Unova or not.

Story

Kitakami has an ancient folklore about how an ogre wrecked havoc throughout the land and three Pokemon stopped it and were dubbed the Loyal Three. The ogre lives in a cave in the vast mountains while the Loyal Three had died protecting the village and were dubbed heroes and guardians of Kitakami. As a writer, the fact that this region has its own unique culture and folklore really fascinates me. I love how this is Pokemon’s unique take on the Momotaro folklore but with twists.

If you’re not familiar with the Momotaro folklore, it’s a story about Momotaro who was born from a peach and goes to an island called Onigashima with his animal companions, a dog, monkey and a pheasant, to fight off demons. I’m not too familiar with the overall story, so I’m just reciting what I know from anime and articles. I’d love to read the whole tale one day, but there are many iterations of it. I think Pokemon did a great job adding in their spin on the story with twists and turns. For this DLC, the story does the usual plot of the ogre (demon/oni) being the bad guy while the dog, monkey and pheasant are deemed as heroes, but it’s actually the opposite in this game.

The ogre, Ogerpon, is a genuinely good Pokemon. She and her previous Trainer, the Visitor, came from a land far away to settle into Kitakami, but the villagers were afraid of them. One villager took pity on them and made him masks where he and Ogerpon can use to conceal their faces while talking to the villagers. This was a success, but the time got cut short as three greedy Pokemon wanted the masks so they killed the Visitor while Ogerpon was away. When she came back, her trainer was dead and all that was left was the Teal Mask. Enraged, she killed the villainous three, but her anger had caused the villagers to shun her more; they misunderstood her rage as an act of violence towards three poor Pokemon. That was how the three villains were dubbed as heroes and guardians while Ogerpon remained a pariah to this day.

To be honest, after witnessing the tale, I had a feeling the Loyal Three were the true villains and I was right. I felt bad for Ogerpon losing her Trainer and then be shunned by the villagers for so many years because of this. However, I also feel bad that the story caters towards the player because Ogerpon clearly favors the player more than Kieran who has admired the ogre for a very long time.

While I enjoyed the story overall, there were many flaws within it. First off, I understand that the story has to fit a limited amount of time since this is technically a two-part story. Second, every Pokemon game’s story caters towards the player. It doesn’t matter if the player’s the blandest slice of bread in the game, the plot will always favor them. That’s basically the result of this story. Ogerpon becomes fond of the player and joins them; to be honest, it’s also irony in a way as Ogerpon and her former trainer were outsiders in Kitakami, so I assume Ogerpon’s fond of the player because they’re a foreigner and not the native Kitakami people like Kieran and Carmine. Speaking of the siblings, their grandpa said to not say anything about the truth as the villagers would get angry. Yet, the villagers did a complete 180 when Kieran told the truth. Like, all that warning from the grandfather amounted to nothing.

Also, a personal nitpick on my part is that the school trip made the player go with three random people who are nameless from beginning to the end. Why couldn’t this excursion allow the story to take Arven, Nemona or Penny along? I know it’s because the devs want it to be accessible to anyone at any point of the game, so that they can avoid spoilers. However, it makes the experience feel rather hollow. If Game Freak had the time to develop new Pokemon for this game, they could, at least, made new Paldean NPCs for the excursion.

Characters

The Teal Mask DLC has introduced a plethora of new characters from humans to Pokemon. The story starts with a woman named Briar who is an instructor of Blueberry Academy and the one in charge of the school trip. To be honest, she’s kind of suspicious to me. Briar states that she’s a descendant of Heath and wishes to go to Area Zero as soon as possible because she’s interested in seeing Terapagos. Her whole demeanor reeks of being villainous. Her eyes look very sinister from the way they are dark purple with red slits. From the moment I saw her, she gave me uneasy vibes.

Kitakami is home to two students of the rival academy, Carmine and Kieran, who are siblings. Carmine is the quintessential older sister who is chaotic and a bit overbearing towards her brother. Kieran is shy and often hides behind his sister. I actually quite like these two a lot. They’re very dynamic and very integral to the story.

Carmine starts off the story as a bit of a jerk. However, the some parts of the fandom thinks she’s too mean when they wanted a mean rival for a long time. Honestly, Carmine isn’t mean. She’s hostile and chaotic; she’s just older sibling vibes. As someone with an older sibling, I can attest that Carmine is a true older sibling from being harsh but caring. Fortunately, spending time with her mellows her out and she shows off how truly kind she is at the end. I do like that while she has scarlet toned hair and her name comes from the red currant plant, her team as the Violet exclusive Morpeko.

Kieran is pretty much this story’s punching bag. He’s super adorable, yet I feel so bad for him. He grew up admiring the ogre from the folklore all his life and when he finally learns that the ogre was indeed the victim in all of this, said ogre doesn’t even bat him an eye and grows a fondness for the player character. Though, I guess Ogerpon developing a fondness for the player character makes sense since she and her former trainer were outsiders, so she is probably more fond of outsiders than the actual locals like Kieran. Anyways, Kieran starts off the story shy, but the nicer of the two siblings, but as the story progresses, he’s the one becoming edgier while Carmine becomes nicer. People might think he’s weird for being angry, but it makes sense. Imagine the only friend you made deciding to hide a secret about something you really like and should get involved with but that person only shared the secret with your older sister and they both decided not to tell you. If I were Kieran, I wouldn’t like being kept in the dark at all because it meant that they don’t trust me despite being friends and family. Similarly to his sister, Kieran has violet toned hair, named after the currant plant, but has Scarlet-exclusive Gliscor and Cramorant on his team. To be honest, out of the two siblings, Kieran is actually quite challenging. His Yanmega is easily a tough opponent for me as he knocked out my entire team on the fourth fight. Since the story has a continuation in the Indigo Disk DLC, Kieran will be going through the dark phase next time we see him.

Because the region is very Japanese-influenced, it only makes sense to have Hisui related lore be included. That’s where Perrin comes in. Perrin is pretty much a modern female Adaman with a Hisuian Growlithe. Yes, Hisuian Pokemon are all but confirmed not to be extinct, but just species that went to a distant land to preserve their bloodline. Perrin’s inclusion in the story isn’t actual for the main plot; she’s just here for a side quest to search for a special Ursaluna. Her side quest is actually a bit tedious because she requests you to take pictures of Pokemon, so the game suddenly turns into Pokemon Snap and when you take a picture at what you think is a good angle, she’s like “it’s not good enough.” The Ursaluna fight was pretty hard. I lost once and then when the Ursaluna kept spamming Calm Mind and Blood Moon, I got super pissed and just threw my Leavanny in whenever I could. I also terastalized my Lv. 86 Chandelure because her teratype was Grass. I did catch the darn bear.

New Pokemon are introduced here. Dipplin and the Poltchageist line are quite interesting. I honestly love the creativity behind them. The Loyal Three are very sinister looking, but they also look a bit goofy. I think that Fezandipiti has the best design as it’s very pretty—a statement Carmine agrees with. Once you defeat the three in their titan forms, you can actually catch them where they were once fought. Let me tell you, Fezandipiti was the MOST ANNOYING of the three to fight. His strategy was to make opponents confused with Swagger or Flatter and then proceed to try and poison you with Beat Up and activate his Toxic Chain ability. If you aren’t prepared, your team will constantly get both confused and poisoned; if you deplete his HP to a good amount, he will roost. This pheasant is very strategic and I love him; I will use him for the next DLC because I love using status moves on my opponents.

Ogerpon is super adorable. I feel so bad for her. She and her late Trainer wanted to get along with the Kitakami locals but they shunned them due to their being outsiders. They had to wear masks for them to get along and when they finally did, the greedy three Pokemon sought after the masks and killed her trainer. An enraged Ogerpon killed all three, but then became a pariah while the three villains were revered as loyal guardians. I’m surprised she still has a sunny disposition despite all of this.

Gameplay

How was the gameplay? I mean, it’s still the same as OG Violet and every other Pokemon game. Did the frame rate get better? Nope! The frame rate is still crap.

Anyways, if there’s one thing I disliked about the game in terms of gameplay, I disliked Ogre Oustin. I hated that mini-game so much. Strolling around and getting the berries and then once you start getting pests on your stock, roaring them away won’t work. They’re also very hard to see. Seriously, Carmine getting a high score is easily due to NPC benefits.

Final Thoughts

Teal Mask is a bit simplistic but I quite enjoyed the experience. It was so fun learning about a new region and what it had to offer. Though, the story is a lot shorter than I expected. Pokemon Violet took about a month for me to finish, but Teal Mask took me two days. I’m currently one Pokemon away from completing the entire Pokédex.. Speaking of which, the amount of Pokemon in Kitakami is a lot smaller compared to Paldea. Though, what hindered Teal Mask the most was the fact that it’s the first part of a longer story. The story does feel a bit rushed due to time constraint; I’m sure all the questions regarding Briar and the siblings will be concluded in Indigo Disk. It makes me wonder if Part 2 will be longer. If you have played Pokemon Scarlet or Violet, I do recommend trying out this DLC. It is worth it.

I used a different team for this DLC, since I wanted to spice things up a bit. My team for this DLC was (their nicknames are in parentheses):

Skeldirge (Gochujang)

Zoroark (Inari)

Iron Valiant (Mandolin)

Noctowl (Karaage)

Leavanny (Ssam)

Chandelure (Hot Pot)

What are your thoughts about this DLC? Let me know whether you enjoyed it or not!

[fatrocka64]

I Should not be making this post but I have to since this is a Big Rant

(TRIGGER WARNING. will mention heavy topics such as toxic parenting methods, bullying, violence and hatred against fandoms, and other serious matters that may be unsettling to some users on this website)

Fatrocka64 here… I should not be making this post publicly but my birthday is 1 month away from now… I have a big surprise for the world to see on July 21st 2023 and it's going to be the most wholesome and heartfelt apology to an anonymous Individual who I won't mention her name until the day comes.. the world has ever seen! my mother had to cut ties with me many many times just because I am obsessed with furries. and my behavior of course. I stood up against many bullies in my lifetime but SHE thought I was doing it first… My mother even laid down threats to take me to the hospital due to the many fandoms I tapped into. she even mouthed me off when I came out as a furry and I had made the choice to move out of her house. SHE was extremely toxic to me when zootopia and the lego movie were popular! and she had told me that it was somehow my fault when zootopia came into the world. my birthday will not be celebrated by her anymore due to the massive doubts she gave me… She also would assume that I was the only one who enjoyed the movie rather than anyone else who had seen it! I also have the idea that she claims that I am the only person in the furry fandom.. I left my own family to set my sights on newer things and obsessions to look at. I cannot forgive her for what she did. I wanted to forget what happened for many years. and now my fear anger sadness and disgust has gotten the better of me and shunned out my Joy for many many years even at christmas time! I joined the furry fandom to prove to my mother that there are better things out there than to listen to her verbally and emotionally abusive morals. She HATED the furry fandom before I moved out but strangely she supported it with all of her courage and bravery but now she decided to cut ties with me again and again from start to finish… I managed to participate in Furnal Equinox even though my doctors should have listened to my request for me to be banned before the event came back from it's grave. And now I wait until the time comes for my birthday to commence, I might be going to the ROM (Royal Ontario Museum) on friday. until my dad gets the tickets I will bid you adieu for now… My mom will hate the furry fandom until the day I die but she is secretly trying to ruin it for me and I will not let it happen anytime soon….. she can have it her way all she wants to but I am not going to put up with anymore! goodbye for now and I will be back with the wholesome apology on July 21st and break the big birthday news on July 23rd 2023.. so Happy fucking birthday to me and see you soon! PS. I will be performing the Harold Ramis Ritual in August 2023

"I mean look at us we are not Heroes"- Eddie Munson Stranger Things 4 2022

[antipathy-arsonist]

HUUNNNGGHH OKAY ILL TRY

(im going to to elaborate on those tags specifically from the. hank j angle because as you probably know i am. incredibly autistic about that guy)

okay so. the thing that im thinking is how after the madness really started [id say around madness 3/4 but if we're talking when shit got awful for hank id say ep 5] hanks never. really going to be as content(?). as he was before

post 3 they live in fucking superhell and nothing makes sense and people are always after you. and you're the big bad beast that everyone is hunting down even though the people who see themselves as "better" than you and seek to stop you have done equally or more reprehensible shit [ dont think we forgot about the abominations and the sleepwalkers jeb... oh yea! and releasing zeds into nexus city! ] but ohh no your the scapegoat this is ALL YOUR FAULT. ALLWAYS HAS BEEN ALLWAYS WILL BE. and yes of course you've done bad things. of course you had a part to play. of course you enjoyed it. for a time

now imagine if the horrifying world you've grown accustomed to fuck, maybe some would say you thrived in, just. went back to the way it was. and yes, while you desperately wished for your life to go back to normal at points, you wished you were the person people loved before or you wished you could recognise yourself in the mirror again. you cant. they went back to normal, everything went back to normal. but you. you got left behind. you're just some broken remnant of a time people would rather not acknowledge. you make everyone uncomfortable because you remind them of the awful things people did to eachother.

what would your purpose be anymore? you grew used to the cycle of living and dying and killing, you feel like its all you've ever known. but what now? in a world where we dont need to kill to survive and death is once again a painful tragedy and not. yanno. Tuesday.

what do people do with you? they can shun you or they can pity you. both seem like bad options to you.

within the era of violence and suffering you wished everything could go back to the way it was and it did. but you didn't. you'll never ever be the person you were again. you became so used to the horrible existence you led that once you got your wish you wanted nothing more than to go back to when who you are NOW, not who you were before, is normal. but nothings normal, you'll never feel normal again.

GRAAHH I WANNA TALK ABOUT HANK J RAAAAHHHH

I WANNA ELABORATE ON THE TAGS I LEFT YESTERDAY BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY

[thesunshineriptide]

I think an overblot Sebek would be interesting to see! Or maybe an overblot Rook?

This is honestly gonna end up going into crack territory so I’m so sorry to all of y’all. Also i will continue making edits because they’re fun! Anyway they’re kinda short but please enjoy

Cw// racism (against beastmen), body horror-ish, body dysmorphia, psychological distress, physical violence, overblots

Overblot Sebek

The faithful retainer of the faerie prince, fallen from grace? What an interesting thought.

Sebek has never been one well liked among the school, nor his kind. As a half faerie, he learned to be hated and to hate himself in turn. He verbally abused the students around him, condescendingly telling them, “not bad, for a human…”

The beckoning, too good to be true, and the promise given by a powerful faerie rung around his head for too long. He shunned it, at first, as nobody could be so powerful as what they’d claimed.

He pushed off the thought for weeks, focusing harder on his studies. Perhaps, if he were…

The faerie returned to him later, offering him a potion in an emerald green bottle.

Sebek drank it down. He screamed as he shed his human half, leaving him as a full fledged faerie. He thought this would make him feel better, make him feel more worthy. Make him better.

He found that his new form only served to scare others away. He didn’t feel the same, but he didn’t feel more powerful. Simply…less himself. It was nearly a month of this adjustment before he went to Malleus and Lilia, begging them to help undo it.

“I can’t undo a boon granted, Sebek. I’m sorry.”

This was a punishment, wasn’t it? He didn’t understand. Malleus is powerful, insanely so. Sebek was loyal, wasn’t he? He only ever wanted to help, he did this because he wanted to be better, to be able to protect someone. Humans were weak, having a half human guard made him weak, didn’t it?

Sebek sobbed, begging Malleus, asking what he had done wrong.

He became so overwhelmed, so distressed, felt so abandoned, that he overblotted.

His overblot form was more reptilian than he had been before. His teeth were even sharper, his eyes narrower. He looked more like a beastman than a faerie, but acted like neither. He simply acted like a wild animal, snapping at those around him.

He didn’t mean to. He didn’t want to be this way, but he had made a terrible mistake.

It didn’t take much to end the battle and return him to his (new) normal. After a lot of coaxing and encouraging, Lilia and Malleus found ways to help with his new adjustment. Malleus hadn’t lied when he said he couldn’t reverse it - the spell, he physically could not break, though it was also against faerie law to do so.

Sebek got better. He learned to be himself, even if he looked different. He took potions to help with any urges he didn’t know what to do with, he took careful care of his appearance to help with body dysmophia. Overall, he recovered, even if life looked a little different now.

Overblot Rook

Rook is a little difficult to imagine overblotting, isn’t he? I mean, he’s a rather happy guy who finds the beauty in everything. His signature spell he admits isn’t super powerful or even strong. So what on earth could cause him to overblot?

For me, I think it could be one of two things. Someone is completely intent on ruining every piece of joy he can find, irritating him to the point of actually managing to get him violent, or something magical is influencing his behavior

A new student appeared in Pomefiore, a sulking, sad type much better suited for Ignihyde. He was constantly around, lurking at corners. Everything Rook said, every praise he gave freely, was contradicted by this…this plebeian.

The blatant disrespect for the artistry and beauty of the world! The insults to his interest, the constant berating of those trying their finest to improve, it’s simply diabolical in Rook’s eyes.

What starts as annoyance begins to amp up the more this person harasses him, poking at any ‘weakness’ and being honestly just…awful.

“Beastmen seem so dirty and gross. The sunset savannah sounds dry, and underdeveloped. I feel bad for the people there that Leona’s their prince, he barely qualifies as a student”

Rook is seeing red before he can think, honestly. He’s got this student pinned down, kneeling on the center of their back. His fingers dig in painfully to the crook of their neck, and his teeth almost look like fangs right now.

“Say it again.” He hisses into their ear, causing the student to start shaking in fear.

The shadow of a huntsman leers behind Rook’s crouched form. One of its arms is a hunting knife, the other carries the heart of a pig that pumps with each moment.

He’s not terrifying in terms of magic, but his ability to run, hunt, hide, and attack is unparalleled. He’s fast, he’s strong, and he’s incredibly dangerous to anyone that fucks with him.

He has no issue taking out his classmates, though he doesn’t do anything to permanently cause pain. A free broken legs, a few people chained to a wall to keep them out of the way, a close eye on anyone who could take him out easily and a quick ensnaring of his prey leaves the pool of people who can fix this very slim.

It’s the teachers, and specifically Vargas, that have to step in and end this. Rook never took much mind to the coach, but that was a mistake on his part. Coach has him knocked out in roughly five minutes of a fight and is already carrying him to the infirmary.

Rook will honestly never make up with the student that made him overblot. He will, however, apologize to his classmates when he’s recovered because now people flinch away from him.

Also the student that pissed him off transferred to a different school

[castielcommunism]

about Cas, "I think that he’s got a streak of narcissism in him" HELL yeah this is something that's so interesting in him. it's laid out pretty clearly in "the man who would be king" but it recurs in other storylines and while, yeah, it mellows later, it's a part of his character that compels me. (who but a self-hating egoist would say yes to Lucifer in the cage? I'm not convinced it was ONLY a last-ditch option.) anyways, always sad when this gets overlooked, he wears pridefulness so well

YES. And I want to be careful in framing his pride because I don’t think he’s arrogant. As in, I don’t think he believes he’s better than other people or other angels. He’s pretty down to Earth in that regard. There’s no superiority in him about angels being above man, or himself being above angels. Cas operates from a moral foundation that argues mankind’s humanity is self-evident, and that it is his duty to protect them. Again, not in a paternalistic, “you must be coddled by someone who knows better” way, but rather, he has the capacity and resources to reduce suffering, so he has a moral obligation to do so. Cas is very much a man of the people.

BUT. I think he is prideful of this. I think he’s proud about the fact that he rebelled, and as a self-defence mechanism I think he proudly incorporates being an outcast into his identity. Like he’s ashamed of his failures and the violence he caused in Heaven, but like if you’re shunned by your own kind and feel like an outsider on Earth, that’s going to mess with your head a lot! You’re gonna have to reconcile that somehow, and because Heaven reduces Cas to “that guy who fucked everything up”, I think on some level he accepts that about himself.

I also personally subscribe to the idea that Cas finds all of this darkly hilarious. Like he’s humorous about his own failures and shortcomings. He doesn’t have any illusions about what a massive fuck up he is, and acknowledging that through humour is both a form of self-flagellation and a way of bearing the weight of that guilt and shame. But that’s where the narcissism comes in, where he takes the self-hatred born of failure and turns it into this noble martyrdom. This is also why I enjoy the idea that he considers his own love of Dean to be a cosmic punchline, and feels this bitter, resentful sort of humour about it. His punishment for his destruction in Heaven is to not be loved by the man he rebelled for in the first place, but also I think on some level he’s like “I do ALL of this for you and this is how you repay me? By calling me your friend? Your brother?”

Anyway big agree. I think Cas is self-hating, prideful, repressed, and humorous about all of it.

[brightoakgame]

Halloween Short #5 - Jasper

For the final spooky short, I returned to Victoriana shenanigans for the classic best befitting Dr. Jasper Lee: Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Somehow I never had actually read it before this, and I cannot put into words how awestruck I am by Shelley’s wonderful craft--it is immensely readable and profoundly human, and if you have likewise missed reading it or only know the story from the myriad imperfect film adaptations, I recommend picking it up whole-heartedly.

Also, I must thank both Wudgeous and Remnantation once more, from the bottom of my heart. Their assistance reading through and editing these mini-narratives, and Rem’s willingness to lend her phenomenal artistic talents to the effort, are a large part of what pushed me through this self-assigned project. For their ready kindness and generosity, as well as their aid, I am grateful beyond measure. 

I have enjoyed writing these shorts, and I hope they’ve offered enjoyment to some of you in turn. Content warning for this last: some violence

Nowhere on earth have I found where a single life is of less matter than here, among the vertiginous heights of the mountains. It is not that life becomes inherently less dear when held up against such magnificence, but rather that its substance is firmly assigned proper weight: the fly is not of a greater insignificance than is Man, nor are the fleet swallows that dip and trill across the open meadows of markedly greater permanence than the poppy bloom that shrivels within mere days of opening. The wind-blasted oak trees outlast the seasons; the impassive faces of granite that rise from the earth shall still stand when the oldest of trees fall; and when all below is gone and dust, the sky shall remain, as unmoved by our paroxysms and ultimate destruction as is a child which comes across a beetle’s emptied carapace, devoid of life, and which may now be ground to powder underfoot with a satisfying crunch as she passes. 

Humankind shuns such knowledge, at the least when writ so large; and here in the heights, where there is no claim of mastery over nature, no domestication of the landscape in the form of farmhouses or villages, nor indeed any reassurance that, if lost, one shall ever be found, few are the visitors I glimpse passing through the shallow valleys and cresting hillsides I call home. I do not repine, for this perfection of solitude I sought out deliberately, and I find it a balm to be so continually reassured of my own insignificance. For when one does not matter, one cannot do harm--and what harm one may have done already, well, it matters not to the sky, nor to the trees.

In the midst of such spotless sequestration, the intrusion of a human form became to my eyes little more than a passing annoyance to be generally disregarded. But the stranger was unusual, for which reason I tracked his progress nearly: he did not stop and relish the expansive views which surrounded him, as might the naturalist, nor dally amongst the little things. He was too well-supplied to seem eager to lose himself entirely, and while he would occasionally pause as if looking for something particular to guide him, it was not with the aimlessness or fear which characterize one who has strayed from their intended path. Indeed, I could not at all fathom what brought such a figure under the vasty roof of my chosen refuge. Pursuing him curiously, I lowered myself behind a massive protrusion of granite centered on the sheer cliff face above him, and in so doing a careless foot let fall a cascade of pebbles to the path below.

On the instant, he stopped, craning his neck back and examining the slope above with great eagerness. I drew nearer into the shadow of the enormous stone, but he was not deterred when his scanning eyes found nothing. Instead, to my great surprise, he called out.

“Hello, there--er--monster? Daemon? Creature, kindly show yourself!”

I hesitated, at first still unwilling to reveal my loathed form to any sentient thing, but, snarling at the list of opprobrious titles as it continued unabated, at length I dropped from my precipice, landing before the stranger. He beheld my appearance with an expression of momentary surprise, which quickly turned to starting horror as I lifted him from the path by his neck.

At first, he raised his hands to try and wrestle my grip from his throat, legs thrashing the air beneath him in panic; his form was finely-muscled, but against my own unnatural and brutish strength he stood no chance of winning his freedom by force. As if recognizing the futility of his efforts, however, he quickly subsided, instead attempting only to keep his own dangling weight from adding to the strain placed about his neck. 

Amidst the desperate, shallow gasping and clicking sounds which issued from him as he sought air, he finally formed the soundless word, please. Curiosity stirred within me where mercy was long dead, and I lowered him again, ungently, to the ground.

He fell heavily, landing upon hands and knees and sucking in the denied breath with great noisy inhalations, and following this with much coughing and retching. I waited, impassive as the stones, and debated the wisdom in releasing one who held clear knowledge of not only my existence, but also my whereabouts. I comforted these misgivings by reminding myself that I had stayed my hand for only the present, and that there was no place upon the whole of the mountain, or indeed the wide world, where this poor fool could hide himself, once my curiosity was sated and his utility thereby extinguished.

Finally gathering himself, he rested his back against the stout trunk of a nearby oak, looking up at me with a steady gaze. Few are those who have looked upon my warped visage without cowering or rapidly wrenching their eyes to some other, less offensive object. Never before have I been looked upon with wonder devoid of disgust until this strange fellow fixed his attention on me, as if recording each of my lineaments for later recall. 

“Well?” I demanded, and my voice was more than usually rough and graveled by long disuse. “I have spared you for the present, as you seem to have some matter to discuss with me. If you have nothing to say, however--”

He raised one hand, though whether to entreat my silence, or if in supplication, I could not discern. “Stay your hand but a little longer, I beg,” he rasped, for his voice was no less unmusical and damaged than my own. “I have been seeking you out for some days, and I would converse with you a little before you end my life.”

My curiosity was only the more whetted by this open admission that he knew I would be the end of him, and yet he had sought my company even still. “I have not attained the refinements of a good host; my patience is thin as the very mountain air, and my speech coarse and rough, as you surely can hear for yourself. What conversation would you have with such a monster as I am, then?” 

His head rested heavy against the trunk of the tree, dark hair plastered to his brow with perspiration, a shapely and generous mouth nearly devoid of color, and the livid markings of my own fingerprints encircling the long column of his throat. Still, the intelligent eyes continued in their attentive observance, and he swallowed painfully before attempting a smile.

“You dislike the term, but I did not intend it to be pejorative. I am Doctor Jasper Lee. What shall I call you?”

I sank to my haunches across from him, almost at eye level, but he still did not look away. “I have no name.”

Dr. Jasper Lee’s brow furrowed in a scowl as he turned this over in his head. I had now a strong sense of recognition in him, which I attributed to my late creator, as another man of great thoughts and gentle words. I did not think the better of him for it, for in the great thoughts of the latter the origin of my own wretched existence might be traced, and my experience of gentle words found them as changeable as the moon, waxing with the speaker’s want or fear, and waning again with their inevitable disgust. 

“Kit, then,” he finally pronounced, after long study. “You are an assemblage of correct parts; all that is necessary to create a life, painstakingly put together.”

“I am a failed model, then,” I responded. “And I did not give you leave to name me.”

He shrugged. “I must call you by some name, and you object to those most readily to hand. Quite understandably, may I add, as one who has been called by some of those appellations myself.”

I chuckled at this, the sound horrifying even to my own ears, but it was met with similarly rusty mirth from the man before me. 

“So you can laugh, then, too. You are a remarkable being, Kit.”

The smile froze upon my lips, and I let it fall away. “I am your doom, and smooth speaking shall not save your life, Dr. Lee. What is it you wish of me?”

“To meet you,” he replied, quite earnestly. “I have traveled quite a distance in hopes of finding out your hiding place, to see you for myself.”

“To what end?”

The heavy brows lifted. “Is it not enough to be its own end? It is true, though, that it is my desire to help you, if there is any way I can.”

I felt my mouth curl into a sardonic smile. “You? Help me? What help do you come to offer, if not oblivion? Or do you hope to somehow repair the defects of my faulty brain?”

He laughed out at that, a hand going to his wounded throat immediately after. “I cannot repair the defects of my own brain, much less one unfamiliar to me.”

“What form of succor is it you think to provide, then?”

This returned him to his mental perambulations, which I waited out, watching as thought after thought flickered across his mobile and expressive brow.

“Perhaps it is for my own satisfaction I wished to meet with you,” he spoke in conclusion to these efforts. “Still, I would do you good, if in any way I can.”

This frankness in conversation was altogether new to my experience; as new, in truth, as any conversation with a thinking creature, that did not entail excoriations and such maledictions as the speaker could find to address me with. “What satisfaction is it that you seek from me, if not your own obliteration?”

The mouth twisted wryly, and he shook his head with a ginger economy of movement. “I may accept that as its price, but I by no means wish for the termination of my life. Rather--” He paused, again revolving thoughts in silence. “I feel you are owed apology.”

This, I did not expect, and I physically recoiled from him in my astonishment. “Apology? I, who have ended lives, who rendered my creator miserable, who lack any of your civilized morality, am to be apologized to?”

My incredulity drew from him a frown, though it was not one of condemnation, as I had anticipated. “Yes. What you are owed does not hang in some uncertain balance against that which you might owe others. Therefore, I apologize to you, on behalf of your creator, and the society which--”

“You are too young to have his approbation in this action; I know my maker to be food for worms these ten years or more past.”

Dr. Lee seemed unperturbed by this rebuttal, instead continuing mildly. “I never met him, it is true. All the same, I feel empowered to extend this long overdue courtesy: I nearly committed his own errors myself.”

Tension drew my shoulders together, near-forgotten rejections stinging as if newly applied. “Ah. Then you nearly committed the folly of creation yourself? Happy creation, to have been left unmade!”

A vehement shake of his head, closely followed by an attendant guttural cry of pain. “No! Do you believe yourself to be an error, to sin by your existence alone?”

I hissed in reply to this, but I had no words with which to refute it.

“Your creation is not a mistake, even if the means by which it was achieved are--”

“The humble mosquito is not more reviled for its mere existence than I have been. Nay, it is less so: for it may be held blameless for the instincts which prompt it to harm.”

“And should you be considered by a different scale?” inquired the doctor, head held at an inquisitive angle. “What teachings did you receive, then, to guide you upon faultless paths?”

At this, I scoffed. “Shunned by the hypocrisy of man’s so-called compassion, I have learned instead what nature enjoins: that the strong might have authority over the weak, and that we do as we must to ensure our own continued survival.”

“Precisely. And had I been left similarly uninstructed, I should have followed the same pathways as your unhappy maker, to whom the act of creation was an all-desirable end, and who thought no further from that point what would be his responsibilities and entailments.”

“Such is the mutability of your kind,” I uttered. “To passionately desire a thing, and upon obtaining it, to thrust it away again with equal revulsion. And you? Who saved you from following in such a pattern, and how?”

“By example, which is the most compelling form of persuasion,” he answered. “I had a professor who once was acquaintance to your late creator, and familiar with his unhallowed works. When he observed I was bent along a similar line in my own research and thirst for knowledge, he drew me aside, and illustrated to me in the most frank of terms what destined end my path was doomed towards, if I proceeded unabating.”

“If words and sense alone were his arguments, I see little similarity between you and my late master.”

“He offered proofs,” Dr. Lee continued, dragging from his pack a volume of papers. “Your creator’s notes, which he had directed be destroyed upon his death. My teacher could not bring himself to obliterate such remarkable studies, even as he kept them closely guarded against such thoughtless minds as might mimic their example. I was the first, and I think only, student to whom he revealed them; and upon prolonged, feverish study, I came to know and feel the mistakes of my predecessor as nearly as if they had been my own.”

“Am I among those mistakes, then?” I inquired. He waved the suggestion off.

“Yes, but not in the sense you mean: you are perfect. You sprang, fully formed, from the wildest imaginings and most dedicated study of the human brain, like Athena bursting from the forehead of Zeus. Your appearance should be of little matter: you are as your creator made you.”

“He made me a monster,” I answered sourly, rising to demonstrate the full height and breadth of my enormity. “I am overlarge, and I am stronger than any human to walk this earth. Impervious to those sensitivities and fragile cycles natural to you, I shall live a hundred generations or more, should accident not befall me. Wherein do you perceive my perfection?”

Struggling, he regained his feet, his face tipped back once more to look upon me with wonder. “Why, if not in that which you yourself censure, then in your very soul! Abandoned as you were, your mind remains unshattered; your feelings are sensitive and deep; your thinking as receptive and fluid as any scholar. You repudiate yourself for those failings in education which you could not alone amend--who then is the author of your ills? It is not yourself, I think. And as I was bound to err in the same ignorant desire for attainment as your creator, and as likely to damn that of my own making, I take it upon myself to apologize for him, as well.”

“You are generous,” I whispered harshly, by way of answer. “But as nature has been my teacher, where my own maker failed, so I have learned that the consequences of an action taken do not depend on intention. In the eyes of your civilized populations, I am damned by my existence, as well as my own destructive acts; there is no redemption for me in your world.”

“That is not my aim,” he uttered fervently. “I reject my own world, in fact; as you say, it is governed by caprice and mutability. But even where society fails, there may be individuals who buck such trends, and represent goodness: I would be that to you, even if ‘goodness’ is not the proper title for such companionship. I see in your loneliness a reflection of myself, and I see in it the echo of my own desire, which actuated my study of creation, even if I did not then recognize it.”

“You wished to create for yourself a companion?” I demanded, incredulous. 

For answer, his cheeks darkened, and the weight of his gaze fell away. “Perhaps that is what I sought,” he muttered, though whether he meant to address me or himself, I could not say. 

“I asked that of my maker,” I stated carefully, observing his withdrawal. “He refused me. I cannot blame him: as disappointed as he was in his first creation, his will to cobble together a second must have been weak indeed, given precedent.”

“He failed you,” Dr. Lee answered, with renewed vigor. “Friendship--true friendship--is a precious commodity indeed, and of that at least you should have been assured. I am sorry you were denied that most basic of needs; it is as dear and necessary as the air, a sustenance as vital as any food or drink. You may have earned no one’s approbation in your birth, but still you were entitled to no less than the most basic of provisions offered an infant, coming into this world as full-formed as you were.”

“It was not to be,” I replied angrily. “What, do you then volunteer yourself my friend? You, to whom I have already given a taste of the death that awaits you?”

Unsteadily, he rose, stumbling forward until his hand rested upon my sinuous arm. “For as long as you allow me life, I shall stand your friend.”

Our eyes held one another in contemplation: I had never before had a friend, and the strange man before me seemed similarly bereft of intimacy. To release him felt like folly; to destroy him felt like death.

At length, I stood back from him. “I can find you, as I did my maker. Your life will never be safe, henceforth.”

“What life is safe, when one accounts for disease and accidents?” he inquired, smiling. “I was prepared for mine to be forfeit in meeting with you, but should you spare it, I can promise you I will return.”

“What do I gain by your returning?” I asked, still obstinate. 

“I cannot answer,” he replied seriously. “I can only speak for myself, and say that I should like to know you better. Your origins, your stature, your appearance--none are deterrent towards me, as you seem to think they must be to all thinking creatures. If you will but converse with me, it is enough to tempt me to this journey again, as many times as I may compass it.”

Stubborn, I remained silent for some moments, but the temptation of further commerce with this strange figure could not help but charm my soul--such as remained of one--and its protestations won out over the more conservative strictures of fear. “You may leave and come again, so long as you do not bring others with you.”

“I shan’t,” he swore sincerely. “I am at heart a selfish creature, and I should like to keep such a wondrous acquaintance for my own.”

I laughed out at this, shaking my head. “I should kill any that came with you, if they prove less glib of tongue. Go, now; if you follow this deer path south, you shall come upon another valley, and in tracing it land upon the hamlet of Hillsfoot, and more of your kind.”

“Will you be here, when I return?” he demanded, shouldering his pack once more.

“I shall not leave these environs; it is the one place I have found refuge, and I have no intention of quitting it.”

“Then I shall see you again in some weeks, when I am better equipped for the long season.”

I followed his steps southward, and while I kept myself unknown, I ever felt his awareness of my presence: colorful stones would be left behind in his campsites, or gathered masses of medicinal plants; until he achieved Hillsfoot, I watched over him as if a guardian angel, though no angel bore wings so black. 

To the mountains I returned: to the heights, and their assurances of insignificance; and yet, if I now felt I mattered to one other life, it ought not color those peaks as any different than the days before. No golden poppy opened a brighter face to the blue heavens; no swallow sung sweeter; no fly nor beetle shone more iridescent for the light that glanced off its reflective form. 

And yet: that promise that no longer was I doomed to solitude, that by nature I was not doomed, it sang to me in every moment, every breath, until my friend should return.

[drawlfoy]

detention retention finale p.1

masterlist (read parts 1-2 here!) request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no this series is from my original idea however i did take inspo from quite a few people (credited at the bottom of this)

summary: gryffindor y/n is put to the test when she tries to use her detentions with draco malfoy to get close enough for him to share his secret. unfortunately, things are never as simple as they seem. (set in 6th year)

warnings (plz pay attention to these this time): blood, violence, mild gore, mentions of wanting to throw up, you’re just kinda not having a great time during this chapter. also, kinda dark!harry trope here. it is a little ooc, i know, but it was what worked and so i ran with it. also, i play around with the timeline of events that occur in hbp so just expect that 

a/n: the long awaited p1 of the finale is here! the second half is almost entirely written save for a few scenes, and i expect to get that out in the next few days (so much less than a week). i really appreciate you all being patient--i wrote and rewrote the potion scene about 3-4 times because it just wasn’t the vibes that i wanted, but i’m semi happy with how it turned out and at this point i’m just gonna go crazy if i keep trying to restructure it so here we go. all the loose ends will b tied up in the last part and y/n is finally gonna catch a break ;) so as always lmk what you think!

word count: 8.7k

here’s a spotify playlist inspired by this fic!

tags: @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @yiamalfoy @crystalox @dracoismybabey @dreamcxtcherr @decaffeinated-turtle @marrymetheonott @felicityofbakerstreet @daedreamss 

enjoy >:)

Snape’s stores were much more difficult to crack than she’d expected. She’d managed to steal one ingredient from there once, but back then all she had to do was disengage the multiple jinxes that guarded the door. Since, unfortunately, her slimy old Potions professor appeared to have felt a compulsion to fluff his nest and redecorate. A new painting was hung on the door--one of a large raven with beady, intelligent eyes that followed her as she walked past as inconspicuous as she could, no doubt preparing to fly off into the painting’s grey sky to alert his master. Her father had something similar to this in front of his Gringotts vault. She resolved to speak with him over the break to try and find a way in. 

Not like she’d had any chance to execute her plan, anyways. It had been two weeks since Y/N had so much as had a simple interaction with Draco. Every time she tried to talk to him, he turned his attention away from her, offering her a disinterested sniff in response or just outright pretending like he didn’t notice her. Pansy Parkinson seemed to take joy in this development, though she was hardly getting anything on her end save for a few dry looking conversations as Draco’s body angled away from her. 

Without the “distraction” of friendship and genuine human connection, Y/N had plenty of time to emotionally free-fall into an internal moral crisis. She supposed that Draco wasn’t expecting her to keep up her end of the deal now, just as her Gryffindor friends had given up on trying to make her useful. Physically, nothing was stopping her from walking right up to McGonagall during one of her detentions and telling her that Draco Malfoy was making an attempt on the headmaster’s life. But was it really worth it? Every time the thought crossed her mind, all she could think about was the way Draco looked when he talked about his mother, the way a shiny film glazed over his eyes and his eyebrows knit together. 

She’d made a promise. Too much was at stake. While she had failed her friends, she was at least not going to fail Draco...not when the rest of the world had betrayed him. 

Y/N was slowly sifting through thoughts like those when Katie Bell stepped foot into the Great Hall for the first time in a month. Her legs, slightly wobbly from being on bedrest for the better half of November, carried her down the aisle towards the trio of Y/N’s now ex-friends. Her soliloquy was interrupted by the familiar sound of Harry’s voice as he spoke, hushed and rather quickly, to Katie, his hands animated and his frame bent slightly lower so he could speak quietly. It didn’t take much imagination to discern what the topic of their discussion was as their eyes flickered over to the Slytherin table. She managed to hear a few snippets as the wind from the owls blew in and carried it towards her: 

“Malfoy--”

“Was it?”

“...remember?”

Katie, lips pressed into a thin line, shook her head. Harry bit his own lip and swung around to look at a blond figure further down the aisle. Draco. He was staring at the meeting, his body entirely frozen while he took it in. 

Oh, Draco.

Before either party could say anything, he was already turned around and speeding off outside of the hall. She swallowed; Harry and the rest of her Gryffindor peers were conversing and not casting a single look her way. Taking a deep breath, she got up from her seat, leaving her half eaten toast behind.

It didn’t take long to locate Draco--Myrtle’s bathroom was hardly a minute’s walk away from the Great Hall. He was in the same position she saw him there last, his head hanging over the sink basin while his body heaved.

“Draco,” she called out.

He snapped around, his eyes wild and his hair slightly wet at the tips. It occurred to her that he’d splashed his face with water. “Come around again for a formal Katie Bell confession?”

“No!” she exclaimed. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t get herself past the doorway. Not when his wand was raised at her like that. “I wouldn’t do that. I would never do that.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” he snarled. “Do you really expect me to believe anything you say?”

“Please,” said Y/N. “Please let me explain.” Despite the sting of his words, she couldn’t help but feel some degree of relief when she realized that he was finally speaking to her again, finally acknowledging her again. 

He let out a huff of disbelief. “This isn’t about you. Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter whether or not you explain. You lied to me. You put my family in danger, me in danger. And for what? A date with Potter?”

“What?” All the air left her lungs as she stared at him. “It was never like that!” 

“Save it.” His tone, a bitter blend of vileness and defeat, echoed off the stone of the bathroom floor. Y/N was overwhelmed with the urge to run up to him and just beg him to forgive her, but the fire in his eyes and the angry twist of his mouth told her that that wasn’t an option. Instead, she slowly crept towards him. His eyes blazed as she neared him holding her hands up. “Please, Draco. I’m begging you.” 

His composure slipped, his wand shaking slightly in the air while he caught his bottom lip on his teeth and stared at her with a look she couldn’t quite place. She was just about to ask him about it when a pair of footsteps stopped right outside the bathroom.

“I know what you did, Malfoy!” Harry appeared, brandishing his wand and pointing it at him with conviction. “You hexed her, didn’t you? Katie?”

Draco sucked in a wheezy breath, struggling to stand up entirely straight as he held his wand at the ready. 

“You’re not even gonna deny it?”

“Let me guess, Y/L/N couldn’t get a confession out of me so you’re here to pick up the slack?” Draco finally snarled. “How cute.” 

“Shut up!” roared Harry. She’d never seen him look so furious before. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think I do,” he said menacingly, the usual cool confidence she associated with him slowly reappearing in his demeanor as he twirled his wand around his fingers. Y/N finally let out the breath she was holding as Harry zeroed his focus on her. 

“And just what are you doing here?” he hissed. “Hermione was right, huh? You were with him the entire time. I can’t believe I expected anything different from you.”

Despite the fighting nature of the words coming from one of her best friends, she couldn’t help but glance at Draco as confusion briefly rippled through his features. 

He didn’t know. He didn’t know that she was being shunned by her friends for not telling them anything.

“I was just checking on him!” she wailed.

Visibly unsatisfied with the answer, Harry just scoffed and aimed his wand at Draco. “You’re going to confess what you did or I’m going to make you regret it.”

Harry wasted no time with firing off the first spell--a weakly cast Stupefy that hardly missed her head as Draco’s Protego ricocheted it in her direction. She yelped as she dodged it, smacking into the side of the stall door and falling on the ground unceremoniously hard. Frantically, she dug through the pockets of her cloak to locate her wand, but she was too late. A flash of light was headed her way.

Instead of it smacking into her chest with the force of a curse, the green light spread around her, creating a shield-like sphere. She met Draco’s eye’s briefly in shock. 

He’d cast a protection spell on her. In the middle of a duel that she was hardly formally a part of, he cast a protection spell on her.

“Diffindo!” The puddles from the eternal broken faucet glowed red as Harry parried Draco’s attack. It again went flying in her direction, breaking through the shell of the Fion Duris charm. In a stroke of luck, she rolled out of the way. A light blue flash followed from Draco--a nonverbal.

Finally. Y/N managed to close her hands around her wand, mind racing with thoughts of who she’d disarm first. Her wand had just begun to point towards Harry as the aftershocks of a Levicorpus charm slammed her to the ground once again, her wand bouncing on the cobbled stone once before rolling under the stall door. Y/N swore. “Harry, stop it!”

Harry was clearly losing composure. Despite his magical talent, the speed at which he was rattling off curses compromised his control...and his aim. Draco sent a few Fion Duris and Protego Maxima charms her way, but it still didn’t help when Harry had completely lost it. 

Things turned for the worst when his Tergeo actually sliced Y/N--just barely, but enough to draw a significant amount of blood in her wand arm. Even if she wanted to try and find her wand behind the toilets, she wasn’t even sure if she had the strength to fire off anything.

Her cry of pain prompted Draco to immediately turn his attention from Harry, angling his body towards her instead, an indistinguishable expression etched into his face as he took in the bloodstained white sleeve of her arm. 

Under normal circumstances, Y/N would’ve swooned at the fact that he willingly forfeited the duel just to check on her. But these weren’t normal circumstances, and Harry’s rage-filled expression and clenched jaw reminded her of this as he reeled his arm back and shouted out, “SECTUMSEMPRA!”

She didn’t think about it. To her credit, there really was no time to think. The cracking crimson light flashing towards Draco’s distracted figure was enough for her to launch herself at him with the intent of knocking them both to the ground--but she was too late, far too late. Glowing red light encased her entire body for a few tense milliseconds before she crumpled to the ground.

The Sectumsempra curse felt like every single nerve ending in her chest was being massaged with a sharp knife. Hot, sticky blood filled her mouth as she blinked, glassy-eyed and dazed, up at the ceiling. Distantly she could hear familiar voices over her body. There was a wet warmth that bloomed on her chest. She managed to glance down at her midsection to see an array of deep, short slashes scattered across her torso. 

“Am I okay?” Her voice sounded tinny and funny to her. A pair of light gray eyes came into her vision as she managed another breath. “Draco? Is that you?”

If he leaned closer, she couldn’t tell. His face was beginning to swim in her vision, blending in with the glass ceiling. Finally, a familiar voice, albeit strained and cracking: “You’re okay.”

She felt something shaky brush past her cheek and the coolness of metal rings dance over her skin.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. You’re going to be okay.” He sounded so far away for someone who was leaning right over her. She could see out of the corner of her eye a figure, cloaked in dark robes, raise its wand and recite an unfamiliar incantation. The metallic taste in her mouth began to subside as she felt the warm stickiness of her own blood seep back into her skin. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not entirely sure what she was apologizing for but doing it anyway. She thought she could feel the warmth of someone’s fingers softly cupping her face, but it could’ve been the heat of the tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. In that moment, she was overwhelmed with the desire to just be held, to not be lonely. “Please don’t go,” she begged. 

The last thing she heard was a tense, “...Okay.” Then everything went black.

~

Y/N spent the majority of her break obsessing over the last memory she had of Draco--the startled way in which he gazed down at her as she bled out in Myrtle’s bathroom and felt his soft hands brush the hair away from her face. It was almost as if there had never been a problem between the two of them, like he’d forgiven her at that moment, but she knew that wasn’t true. Their last Potions class together had made that very clear. While he, thank Merlin, wasn’t letting Pansy hang off him like he did in 4th year, he still pointedly ignored her even though she had to nearly hobble into class. So why had he looked so worried if he didn’t care? And why, whilst surfing the high of a cocktail of pain potions, did she feel like she remembered someone with light blond hair at her side in the hospital wing?

“And you’re sure your bandages are comfortable?” Her mother interrupted her train of thought,, the plate of ethically-sourced willowbird lying completely untouched in front of her. 

“Yes, Mum,” groaned Y/N for what had to be the hundredth time of her Christmas break. “I told you. Professor Snape and Madame Pomfrey made me their top priority over the last week of school. They say that I won’t even need them come January.”

Mrs. Y/L/N hummed as she delicately picked through her salad. 

“I can’t believe that Potter boy’s nerve,” said Mr. Y/L/N from the foot of the table. “Hexing his own friend like that?”

“Dad, he didn’t even know what it did!”

“Exactly! What kind of person does that?”

“He’s just stressed,” Y/N mused, though she was personally a tad miffed at the fact that she’d been brutalized by someone she once considered her best friend. “And he was a little angry at me. He thinks I’m in cahoots with Death Eaters.”

“Ridiculous.” Mrs. Y/L/N vigorously shook her head. “Anyways, dear, no relation to the previous topic: I ran into Minerva at Wurgie’s the other day while I was shopping for gifts. She told me something very peculiar. Is it true you’ve become friends with the Malfoy boy?”

Y/N paled. Dealing with the backlash of Hermione, Harry, and Ron had been bad enough, but her own parents? Over the winter holidays? “Draco?” 

“Yes, unless the Malfoys have another son I’m not aware of.”

“Well…” Y/N searched her mother’s face for any sign of animosity but found nothing but genuine curiosity. “Yes. We both had det--I mean, we were partnered for a class project together in Potions. He seems to have grown up a little.”

Oblivious to the slip up, her mother nodded. “Interesting. I was actually quite close with Narcissa myself back in the day. The Malfoys certainly don’t have a great track record of picking the right side, but we were two quaffles in a case throughout our schooling.”

“You knew Mrs. Malfoy?” asked Y/N, her eyes wide. “I had no idea!”

“Of course, we disagreed on the pureblood values and traditions that should be followed with children,” continued Mrs. Y/L/N, “But despite that, she was always kind. I hope she’s faring well.”

Y/N gulped as an idea slowly began to form in her mind. “Er, Mum, actually...Draco told me some things about...well, his mother.”

Both of her parents perked up. 

“So you know how you guys always talk about how the Order owes you a favor for the time you went undercover in the first Wizarding War?” asked Y/N. They both nodded. “Do you think...we could cash that in right about now?”

~

A month later, Y/N stood in front of the painting that hung on Snape’s door, frowning at the raven that stared right back at her, daring her to try and open the door. In all the excitement of Christmas and explaining to her relatives that she’d nearly been murdered by her ex-best friend in a haunted bathroom, she had completely forgotten to ask her father how to distract a charmed guardian painting, and it’d hardly be beneficial to owl him during a busy work month. It was still completely up to her.

The dungeons sent a certain chill through her bones as she ran through possible plans, prompting her to tuck her hands into her pockets and shiver so hard that she didn’t even hear the footsteps approaching. 

“What are you doing down here?” came the snotty, posh voice that she knew belonged to Pansy Parkinson.

“Parkinson,” Y/N greeted, snapping her head up to see that she didn’t come alone. Draco strode next to her, though he wouldn’t look at her directly. “Come for a rematch?”

Parkinson pulled out her wand and scoffed. “Wasn’t planning on it, but if you’re offering…”

“Pansy!” Draco hissed, yanking her away and forward. “We have places to be. Don’t waste your time.”

“But--”

“She almost got killed by Potter, like, yesterday,” he continued in a hushed voice. “Do you really want to make that worse?”

Parkinson sent her one last sour look before she was dragged off by Draco (who still refused to make eye contact with her). Y/N slumped against the wall, wincing as one of her injured spots bumped against a protruding stone. Why was he ignoring her? He’d protected her during the duel. He was even the one who stood over her as she lay crumpled on the floor. 

A lump began growing in her throat again as she realized just how lonely she was. With her friends gone, all she had now was...her owl, Edison? Yes, that was it. Edison and Hannah Abbott, who clearly was just letting her sit next to her for meals out of pity. Y/N wished that she had the strength to sit alone and just say fuck it so she wouldn’t have to be the kickstart to a bleeding-heart Hufflepuff’s philanthropy career, but she was already beat down enough as she was. Sitting alone would just seal the deal in her new life as a social reject who dreaded classes where the professors let you choose partners. It was like she was a shy first year again, too nervous to talk to anyone and instead sitting alone at the breakfast table, praying that she’d make friends with someone, anyone, even though she was too afraid to figure out how.

And then came Ron, the sweet ginger boy who she’d met once when she went to a wizarding play with her dad. He’d plopped into the space next to her one day, eyeing the untouched plate of toast in front of her.

“You gonna eat that?” he’d asked. Y/N had just stared, mouth agape that someone was actually talking to her. “Hey, you’re the Y/L/N girl, right? My dad works with yours.”

Without waiting for her reply, he’d just popped the piece of toast in his mouth and continued talking at her as if they were old friends. Before she knew it, she was getting swept up into the social swirl of Harry Potter and his friends, helping them as they made their way through Hogwarts and took on the challenges brought upon them by Voldemort and his cronies. For once in her life, Y/N felt like she actually belonged. 

And she’d thrown all of that away. 

“Y/N?” 

An unfamiliar, dreamy voice sounded from a little further down the dark hall, snapping Y/N out of it. She hadn’t even noticed, but she’d slid down to the ground and tucked herself into a ball. When she touched her face, she felt wetness on her cheeks. The raven in the painting made some kind of weird cackling sound.

“Who’s there?”

A girl in Ravenclaw robes, strange eyeglasses, and shockingly white-blond hair that rivaled Draco’s stepped into sight. Luna Lovegood. She’d seen her a few times--mostly during the Dumbledore’s Army meetings they’d both attended last year--but had never had a private, one-on-one conversation with her beyond the time that Y/N threw a protection charm to protect her from Bellatrix’s Avada Kedavra at the Ministry and she’d thanked her. 

“I thought I heard you talking to someone,” said Luna as she settled in next to her, crossing her legs. “Isn’t Snape’s raven lovely?”

“I suppose so,” mused Y/N. 

“His name is Marvin,” continued Luna, “and he always listens.”

“Huh?” Y/N balked, giving Luna a funny look. No wonder they call her Loony Lovegood she thought. “It--he can...talk?”

“Oh, yes,” said Luna, apparently not noticing her confusion. “Marvin is quite the conversationalist, to be honest. Snape is a very fortunate wizard to have him in his possession.”

As if to accent her point, Marvin crowed a few times.

“I was actually coming here to have a chat with him about you,” said Luna. “I think it’s terribly unfair how your friends are treating you. I thought that Marvin might know what to do. He always seems to.”

“Luna,” Y/N murmured, not expecting the way that her eyes began to swim with tears. “You...you really think so? I’ve been feeling so awful about what I’ve done…”

If she seemed taken aback by Y/N’s emotional outburst, she didn’t show it in the slightest. “Y/N, you just care about other people. And you know what it’s like to be lonely, so I understand why you didn’t want to leave someone alone when they felt that way, even if it was Malfoy.”

Y/N bit her lip to keep the tears from spilling over.

“My mother had this saying about kindness,” said Luna softly. “She told me that it’s easy to be kind to people you already love. But you can really tell how caring someone is by how they treat those who are different.”

Marvin made a sound that was eerily similar to a jackhammer in the background.

“Thank you,” managed Y/N, letting the girl pull her into a hug. “I...I can’t say that enough. I really needed to hear that.”

“I know,” Luna replied wistfully. “I’m sure your friends will come around, too.”

“I sure hope so.” She swallowed, giving her a small smile as Luna squeezed her hand. 

“Marvin is such a funny bird.” Luna shifted onto her feet, creeping towards the painting. “He loves shiny things. Now that I know the spell that weakens the barrier between the natural and painted world, I like to give him things sometimes. If he likes it enough, he’ll fly off to his flock to gloat to his murder for the rest of the day. He’s so proud.”

Something clicked in Y/N’s head. Was this her answer as to how to distract Marvin?

“It’s Transcendere, if you were wondering,” continued Luna, making to walk away. “Just in case you wanted to know. I can’t imagine why you’d need to, though. Anyways, I’m off to meet with Snape over a few questions on the exam. I don’t imagine he’ll be around here for the next hour!”

Before she could even thank her, Luna was already gone and down the hall. Y/N felt her pockets frantically, trying to find one thing that might appeal to the raven. He looked at her expectantly.

Her only piece of jewelry was her family ring, and apart from her obvious personal ties to the object, something told her that giving Snape’s guard bird a concrete identifier as to who broke into his stores would not be wise. So that left….She reached into her pocket, taking out the glittery quill that Draco had gifted her last fall. Giving it one last look and closing her fist around the feather one last time, she thought about how much she wished to go back to the simpler time.

Marvin made a little chirp, snapping her out of her reverie. 

“Transcendere.”

The quill poked through the canvas and into the scene, slowly changing so it fit the art style that the painter used to bring the raven to life. He wasted no time snatching it out of her grip, giving an appreciative gargle before he took off, flying away into the grey sky.

She was in. A quick Alohomora charm opened the door, and Y/N made quick work of deactivating the jinxes that guarded the entrance and was happy to see that he hadn’t changed anything else with his security measures. Finding the potion was easy, and before she knew it, she had reset all the security charms, shut the door, and made her way all the way up to the Gryffindor tower with the vial tucked firmly in her pocket. 

~

Getting Draco alone was the hardest part of her plan. Every time she saw him, he was either surrounded by a gaggle of Slytherins or darting off down side corridors that she could never quite locate. Carrying around the vial of stolen potion was getting increasingly stressful, too, especially now that their DADA class with Snape was coming up. He had to have noticed that his stores were broken into at that point, but given that he hadn’t stopped a meal yet to berate the student body on the importance of integrity and “keeping one’s grabby hands to themselves”, Y/N assumed she was somewhat in the clear. On the bright side, Y/N was enjoying mealtime much more now that she was eating with Luna. Her new friend even convinced her to go to the library with her one night to study--something that Y/N was not too familiar with. 

They’d left right before the library closed, going their separate ways. Something crossed Y/N’s mind as she realized what day it was--Saturday. Draco always worked on the cabinet on Saturdays, and of course he wasn’t going to bring his friends along with him. 

Quietly, she sank down next to the stone wall at the entrance, waiting for Draco to exit. She waited, and waited, and waited. Y/N was just beginning to wonder if Draco had switched his schedule around when the telltale sound of stone bricks scraping against each other snapped her to attention.

Draco looked more frazzled than usual as he stepped out of the newly-constructed entrance, his hands shakily running through his hair and his tie out of place. Y/N felt a sudden pang of guilt at the thought that she was going to add even more stress to his night.

“Draco,” she said, standing up and teetering at the sudden motion.

He started at the sight of her before setting his jaw and turning to continue a walk down in the opposite direction. 

“Please,” breathed Y/N, jumping forward to latch onto his wrist. “I need to talk to you.”

He immediately snatched his hand away, his scowl deeping in his features. “I don’t have time for this,” he said, though sheer exhaustion seemed to replace the usual venom in his voice. “If you’re here to apologize, I don’t want to hear it.”

“But--”

“I don’t have time,” he repeated once again, desperation seeping into the edges of his tone. “I don’t have the time to figure out whether or not I can trust you again.”

“Then let me make it easier.” Y/N reached into her pocket, producing the potion vial that had miraculously not been shattered after she’d carried it for so long. Draco arched an eyebrow. “Run a diagnostic spell on it. I want you to know that I’m being completely honest.”

“Y/L/N, I told you, I don’t want--”

“Please, Draco,” she pleaded, holding it out to him. “Just do it for me. If you do it, we’ll be even for what happened in Myrtle’s bathroom. I’ll leave you alone if you tell me to.”

He sucked in a breath, begrudgingly casting the spell. The vial glowed and cast a bright emerald light on his surprised features. “How did you get that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” rushed Y/N. “Just ask me anything. I’ll take it if you want.”

He looked like he was about to leave her in the corridor alone, so she did the only thing she could think of--uncorking the vial and downing it all in one go. It went down like water, hardly feeling like anything. She was surprised. Wasn’t it supposed to feel more compelling?

“Y/N, you are such an idiot sometimes,” he growled, but he turned back to her anyway. “Okay. Fine. Did Granger put you up to talking to me?”

“No. Harry did,” answered Y/N, the words coming spilling out of her mouth without her even thinking. Draco’s briefly softened expression immediately hardened. 

“I suppose that answers it then,” he snapped. “I’m not sure what that was supposed to accomplish.”

“Ask me something else!” cried Y/N. “Something you don’t already know the answer to.”

His silence was evidence enough that she was maybe, potentially, possibly getting to him. Something twanged in the pits of her stomach, reminding her of the time that she’d eaten bad fish in Greece and was sick for days, but she cast the thought aside for just a moment as he finally responded.

“This is ridiculous,” he clipped. She waited, turning the empty vial over in her hands. Finally, after a few agonizing moments of silence, his voice sounded again. “Why are your friends mad at you?”

Just as she was about to tell him, the tell-tale sound of footsteps and a cat’s meow echoed down the corridor. Filch. Panic-stricked, Y/N launched herself in the direction of the Room before a hand closed over her forearm and pulled her back.

“That’ll take too long,” Draco whispered, so close to her that she could feel his breath on her neck and had to try not to shudder. Without waiting for her response, he yanked her into the broom closet across the corridor and softly shut the door. 

It became fairly apparent that the broom closet was perhaps not the best hiding space for two adults, a fact that Y/N quickly noticed as she realized that the only place she could comfortably place her hands was lightly on top of Draco’s chest. His own hands pressed into the wall on either side of her head as he used it to push himself as far away from her as possible. When her eyes flickered up, she could see in the dim light that he’d shut his eyes. She couldn’t blame him--when she ran the plan through in her head, it rarely ever included getting stuck in a tiny broom closet together, and it never crossed her mind that it could happen before he’d even forgiven her. 

“I heard something too, my pretty.” Filch’s voice floated down the corridor as he neared them. She sucked in her breath, intent to hold it. She wished that she could cast a Silencio on the broom closet, but there was no way to be able to do that in such close range. Plus, she was quite preoccupied with the churning in her stomach that was getting significantly worse. 

Filch’s steps were getting louder as he called out, “Anyone there?”

“Yes,” Y/N let as a tortured, strangled whine. Realization flickered across Draco’s face as his hand shot out to clamp over her lips. She tried not to focus on how warm and nice his skin felt touching her and instead on the fact that Filch was still walking.

The footsteps finally paused outside of the broom closet. Y/N could feel Draco’s heart racing under her palm. She vaguely registered that her hands had long since curled into fists, clinging onto his shirt. 

“Anyone in here?”

“Mmph,” responded Y/N, hardly able to enunciate anything over the death grip Draco had on her face. This only made the lurching in her middle worse, so bad that she felt like she had bile rising in her throat.

“My lovely? What’s that?” A cat’s meow rang out from across the corridor. “Over by the Charms classroom?” Another meow. The sound of quick shuffling would’ve come to Y/N as a relief if she didn’t feel like she was about to puke the entire contents of her stomach up on Draco Malfoy’s hand.

“Thank Merlin.” Draco exhaled. Y/N could feel his shoulders relax under the grip she had on his shirt and took note of the fact that he smelled very strongly of that stupid rich scent in her Amortentia, something that was somewhat difficult when the cramping in her stomach had gotten so bad that she could hardly stand up straight.

Then he let his hand drop.

“They’re mad at me because I didn’t tell them about you.” The words came spilling out so fast and without prompt that Y/N felt like she was out of body, watching someone else speak for her. “I couldn’t ever bring myself to hurt you like that because even though you’ve been mean to me and my friends and I technically have no reason to want to protect you, I still do and it’s just so complicated because I thought I was just being a good person or whatever but honestly now that I think about it f it came down to it I would choose you over anyone else here and that’s scary and ohmygodIcan’tstop--” Y/N managed to suck in a small breath as the magic in her system propelled her forward, barely catching the widened eyes of Draco, “--It’s been so hard being away from you and I understand why you’re angry at me and I’m such a hypocrite for being upset that you were a Death Eater when I didn’t tell you why I started talking to you in the first place but I couldn’t just confess to you when I finally had a reason to spend time with you and I didn’t want to fuck it all up but I did and Draco please help I can’t stop I want to so badly you were never supposed to know all of this I thought that it would just make me tell the truth not everything--”

“I know,” His hand came up one more time, covering her mouth and muffling her voice. Without being able to move her lips, the words died down once again while the waves of nausea and agony hit in their place. Draco’s face had once again adopted that unreadable, somewhat sad expression as he moved his free hand so he could thumb away the tears that were collecting on her cheeks. Her fingers twisted into the soft fabric of his button down as she choked back a sob against his hand. “I know. That was really fucking stupid, even for you. You do know you’re not supposed to take more than an ounce of Veritaserum, right? This is going to take forever to get through your system. You just have to let it run its course. I’m sorry.” The potion was closing in around her throat as she blinked up at him through tear-ridden lashes. “I hear Filch escorting a student to McGonagall. This is our chance to get out.”

Y/N nodded as best as she could without loosening his hold on her, and they were creeping out of the broom closet and slowly making their way down the hall as silently as possible. He was to her right, his left arm slung around her shoulder so he could keep her quiet without sacrificing too much of his balance. He pulled her away from the direction of the Gryffindor dorms.

“Not happening,” he whispered, his lips almost brushing past her ear. He was so close. She shivered. “Filch went that way. Plus, I need to keep an eye on you until you’re back to normal.”

She nodded again. By some miracle, they made it to the Slytherin dorms without much of a hiccup beyond the awkward shuffle down the stairs. “Purity,” muttered Draco, prompting the cobblestones to rearrange themselves into a door. “Oh, don’t roll your eyes at me.”

Y/N scoffed behind his hand. The Slytherin common room was, thankfully, entirely empty, but very eerie and cold. She tried to open her mouth to tell him that he’d obviously drawn the short straw when it came to lodging, but when she felt his palm tighten over her lips, she was reminded that that wasn’t an option. 

“Here we are,” murmured Draco, his voice still low and careful as he led her to the end of the hall of the boys’ dormitories. Something other than the effects of the Veritaserum she consumed set off the butterflies inside of her once again when she thought about the fact that she was really going to see Draco’s dorm room. His door, black and heavy, was completely unblemished apart from the silver numbers of his room. 

Before she could think any further, he turned the knob and spun her so he was looking right down at her. “The less you talk, the longer it’s going to take for you to be normal again. Try not to be too loud, though. I wanted to sleep tonight.” With that, he released her once again.

“You have really nice hands,” she blurted out, immediately clapping her own palm over her mouth again.

“Oh.” An uncharacteristic blush rose in his cheeks. 

Squeezing her eyes shut and steeling herself for whatever was about to come out of her mouth next, she let her hand fall. “I--I actually think I can control some of what I say now.” She took one more breath in to check. “Yeah. Thank god. It’s not just...coming out of me anymore.”

“I’m not too surprised,” he said. “You were on quite a roll back there in the broom closet.”

“So, um…” She shuffled her feet. “Are we good now, do you think?”

Draco sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone willingly down two state terrorist interrogation sessions worth of Veritaserum just to apologize to me. So, yeah, I guess. I think you should probably try and get some sleep. Chances are it’ll wear off some by tomorrow morning.” With that, he rested his hands on her shoulders and steered her towards his bed.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, sinking down onto his black silk bedding and meeting his eyes.

He shrugged. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything before you sleep?”

“I’d really like it if you held me until I fell asleep,” Y/N said so quickly that she didn’t even have a chance to look away from him. He blanched, his eyebrows raising but his lip quirking up. 

“Wow. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought you were going to ask for water or something.”

“Draco, please don’t be mean,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to say it. It just came out. I would like some water, though.”

“Your wish is my command,” he drawled, disappearing into his bathroom before coming out with an empty glass that he cast a quick Aquamenti into. “Go slow. I really don’t want you coughing up water on my sheets.”

“Me neither,” she said between sips. “Merlin knows I’ve embarrassed myself enough already.”

When she finished, she handed it out to him. “Thank you. I really appreciate you doing this. I mean it.”

He snorted on his way to put the glass away. “Of course you do. That’s the beauty of Veritaserum.”

“You’re actually funny sometimes, you know,” she said. 

Draco smirked at her again. “Veritaserum. You’re doing wonders for my ego tonight.”

While he was doing whatever he was before getting into bed, Y/N went ahead and slipped under the sheets, rolling over onto her back so she was closest to the wall. She felt the bed slightly dip to her left and a throat clear.

“What is it now?” muttered Y/N. 

“You know, it’s really hard for me to do what you asked when you’re on your back like that,” he said.

“What?”

“Like, do you want me to be on top of you or something?”

“What are you even talking about?”

Draco huffed and reached his hands out to grab her shoulders once again, turning her to face him. Before she could register what was happening, she felt his own hands come around under her arms to rest on her back. Her head lay on the swath of skin between his shoulder and his collarbone, and she could feel the quickening of his pulse. “There. Honestly.”

“This is really nice,” Y/N blurted out, physically cringing when she realized that in her position she couldn’t easily cover her mouth. 

“Yeah?” She could feel the laugh rattle through his diaphragm.

“Yes.” Y/N huffed. “Stop asking me questions. This isn’t very kind of you.”

He let out another light laugh, his fingers moving to thread through her hair. “Is this okay?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve wanted--” Y/N buried her face into his shoulder, silencing the words that were about to come out of her mouth. “Oh, my god,” she said after she resurfaced. “I think I want to take a vow of silence after this is over.”

Y/N could hear his smile as he offered her a, “What a load of good that thought is doing you now.”

“Please, just knock me unconscious until it all goes away,” she groaned. 

“Stop demeaning my work,” he said, mock offense creeping into his tone as he continued to card his fingers through her hair in soothing motions. “What do you think I’m trying to do? If you want me to give you blunt force head trauma, then just say so. Sheesh.”

She sighed dramatically. “At this point, maybe.”

“Seriously, though, are you feeling okay? That was a lot of Veritaserum,” he murmured. 

“I’m just feeling mortified right now,” she answered. 

“You still need to tell me where you got it.”

“Oh. I stole it. From Snape.”

All at once, Draco dropped his hands and pulled slightly away so he could gape down at her. “You did what now?”

“Yeah,” she said, confusion creeping into her tone. “It really wasn’t that hard, you know. I’ve done it before.”

“When?”

She felt another lurching sensation. All of the questioning was starting to make her stomach turn again. “I was a second-year. Harry had to brew Polyjuice Potion and he needed an ingredient we couldn’t find anywhere else.”

Draco let out a low whistle. “At twelve?”

“Eleven. My birthday hadn’t come around yet.” 

“That’s…” He’d shifted so she wasn’t pressed up to him, catching his lip between his teeth as he thought. Y/N hadn’t made much notice of this development as the growing pain in her midsection grew. “That’s quite a lot for a kid.” The way his hair glowed in the soft moonlight made her heart twinge. It looked so soft. Y/N noticed that she’d been staring at him for far too long without saying something when he blinked, planning on opening her mouth to apologize or crack a joke when instead:

“I have the biggest crush on you.” The words left her lips without any prior consent, the consonants and vowels forming before she could even think.

He was completely frozen in place, his expression entirely unreadable.

 “Oh, god, and now I’ve ruined it all because I know you said that I didn’t have a chance that one time in detention and you don’t see me like that and I’m pretty sure you’re with Pansy and even if you weren’t I’m not enough for you and I wish I hadn’t taken this stupid potion but I know that I’d do it a hundred times over if it meant that you would trust me--”

Her words stopped abruptly as Draco silenced her--not with his hand, but by placing his lips on hers. The kiss was brief and shy, more of a question in nature than a statement. Her fingers curled around the collar of his shirt as he pulled away, a rather frazzled and deer-in-the-headlights look etched into his features. 

She was speechless. Absolutely, completely, irrevocably speechless. Despite the insistent gnawing of the Veritaserum at the lining of her stomach, she could only manage to blink owlishly up at him, mouth agape.

“Are you okay?” His voice was low. 

“Ehm…” Her lips refused to move. Draco frowned, dropping his hands from her sides and sitting up straighter. Something impartial washed over his features, turning his expression from hurt to uninterested, like he’d woken up from a pleasant nap and was snapped back to reality. His legs pulled away so no part of her body was touching him.

“I--er, didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “I just wanted to make you quiet again, y’know, before you said anything else you regretted. And I thought that...kissing you would shock your system enough to make you stop talking.”

Her cheeks turned a violent red as she realized the depth of his statement. “So you...don’t see me like that?” 

“No.” He ran his fingers through his hair once, took in a deep breath, and dropped his gaze to the comforter. “You should go to sleep. Hopefully you’ll feel better in the morning.”

At the very least the potion was beginning to settle in her stomach as Draco’s breathing turned slow over the next hour or so. She didn’t know all too much about the mechanics of Veritaserum, but at this point, she had almost nothing left to confess anyways. 

Y/N tore her eyes away from his sleeping form, turning around to face the wall. His bed was soft. And it smelled like him, like the perfect blend of black tea and sage and snobbery that was in her Amortentia. She squeezed her eyes shut and wished to be anywhere but there. When he kissed her, it felt like he wanted her. Yes, of course he was timid, but she’d thought he was just nervous. But what was there for him to be nervous about? She’d already confessed under literal truth serum. He knew how she felt, and he didn’t even say sorry for kissing her and telling her he didn’t mean it like that. He still didn’t want her. Of course he didn’t when Pansy Parkinson in all her obnoxious Slytherin perfection was right fucking there. 

She was just beginning to feel sleep tug on the strings of her consciousness as she felt her hair get tucked behind her ear by a warm hand coming around from behind. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that. It’s better this way, you’ll see. It wouldn’t be fair if I...if it was different.” Despite his words, he let his fingers brush over his jaw as he moved closer, his shoulder lightly pressing into her back.

At that moment, there were so many things that Y/N wanted to say, ranging from “I am never going to live this moment down because I’m positively lovesick over you” to “I am going to beat you up for kissing me and then telling me it didn’t mean anything after I confessed.” Two schools of thought, neither of them perfectly encapsulating the true essence of her feelings. Her most traitorous thoughts told her to stay still and enjoy the final moments of affection she’d get from Draco, but she’d given into impulse a little too much that night. 

He must’ve noticed that her breathing had changed because he suddenly shifted his weight onto his free arm, keeping his hand poised by her neck. 

“Please stop touching me.” The words that came out of her mouth sounded much more pathetic than they did in her head, a voice crack finding its way into the final syllables. He jolted away.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“I thought…” He swallowed. “I thought you liked it when I touched you.”

“Yeah, before you told me you didn’t feel the same way,” she mumbled. “I really would appreciate it if you didn’t make me rehash that again. Today has been humiliating enough. I’m not looking to set a record or something here.”

She’d thought that her quip was pretty good, but Draco remained completely humorless. “I’m sorry. That was wrong of me. It was stupid of me to act on impulse like that. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Never meant to--” She stopped in her tracks, instead letting out a sharp huff. “Nevermind. I don’t want a fight right now. I just want to sleep.”

Much to Y/N’s horror, her throat began to tighten up again with the tell-tale coming of tears. The next breath she exhaled was embarrassingly shaky and loud, and the movement that it sparked in Draco was even more mortifying. He made a small sound of sympathy. “C’mere, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I know that must’ve hurt you.”

Undecided between feeling pissed and just wanting to forgive him, she slowly sat up and faced him. His arms were out in a motion of invitation, an unreadable expression in his eyes. 

“You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.” The Veritaserum in her system didn’t care much about her emotional turmoil, much to her horror. Y/N began to turn away, a watery scowl fixed firmly on her face, but Draco’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. 

“If I...wanted to be with you,” he began, his tone careful and clipped, “It would never work. Okay? Trust me when I say it has nothing to do with you. You did nothing wrong.”

“I kind of did.”

“Yeah, well, we both did. But I don’t want you to think that I, er, never thought about it.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t quite sure what the underlying meaning of that was. 

“So... “ He motioned again with open arms. “Do you...want to? I’ll play with your hair again until you fall asleep.”

Y/N stared at him, completely astonished. “Why? If you don’t see me like that, then why?”

“I’m not going to sleep tonight anyways,” he said softly. “And I want to help you feel better.”

She opened her mouth with the hopes of a biting retort coming out, but instead she was met with silence. Against her better judgement, she set her clenched her jaw and gave in. 

His arms were wrapped around her in an instant as she tentatively settled back into his chest, her hands lightly rested on his shoulders. Despite the humiliating previous events, it didn’t feel awkward, especially when Draco’s long fingers slowly threaded through her locks and brushed past her neck. A small, forbidden sigh of contentment left her lips when he let his touch linger over the back of her neck. His deep, slow breathing and the steady beat of his heart began to lull her to sleep. 

The next morning, she was able to lie convincingly enough to Draco, telling him her name wasn’t Y/N Y/L/N and that she was 80 years old. Confident that she wasn’t about to spill all of his secrets to the student body, he told her she was free to go. 

“Draco?” she asked poised by his door.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I’ll see you much after this? You know, now that we aren’t Potions partners and don’t have detention together anymore?”

He sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe when this is all over, I’ll see you around at pureblood functions or whatever.”

“Yeah.” Y/N tried not to think about the implications of pureblood functions still existing in the future after this. What kind of world did Draco think this would turn into? “But this is probably it, right? The last time I’ll see you like this?”

She didn’t even need to see his nod. She knew. That’s why he offered to play with her hair despite not even liking her--it was his way of apologizing for roping her into this, for tricking her, for shutting her out, for the Sectumsempra curse...for everything. His way of apologizing before they parted ways. 

final a/n: ty for reading! first off, congrats to the anons that guessed veritaserum. that shit took me forever to write bc i had such high expectations but it turned out to be quite the challenging scene since i still had to juggle draco’s conflicting emotions/distrust and the fact that i really wanted him to make her feel better fjdkas; i thought i’d mention someone who helped me write this (even tho i don’t think they realized how much they helped lmao)L i’d like to thank my 🌟 anon for giving me some inspiration. i was struggling with the first half of this story in terms of pacing for quite some time but found some help in an ask they sent me mentioning how they related to y/n feeling lonely/would like to see luna and neville mentioned. unfortunately, i haven’t quite been able to fit neville in yet (and i’m not sure if i can without it seeming just like a random extra bit of story that isn’t helpful to the plot), but hearing some affirmation that y/n’s loneliness was something that actually resonated w them really helped. it made me realize that the isolation from her friends/draco didn’t have to just be a logical turn of events for the plot to proceed in a sensical way and instead could be used to explore y/n’s character. i hope you all enjoyed! i promise the stuff w her dad and the order will be cleared up next chapter

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 26 part one

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes! 

I’m Coming Up So You Better Get This Party Started

The Lans arrive just in time to see Cousin Jin Zixun hassling Su She, and they wonder how he has the fucking nerve to come to a party that they are also invited to. 

Su she was invited by his new best friend Jin Guangyao, who deploys a full-on charm attack, wrapping Su She permanently around his little finger. 

Smoother than the Lanling weather that’s how he holds himself together Watch out, he’ll charm you 

Jin Guangyao grew up with women who earned their living by being charming, pleasant, and hiding their true thoughts from their clients, and he appears to have mastered this useful skill set. With Su She, he exudes confidence and authority, allowing the lesser man to bask in his attention.

With Zewu Jun he deploys helplessness and embarrassment, effectively controlling a man with much greater power than his own.

Lan Xichen confronts him about Su She's presence, and Jin Guangyao pretends he didn't know that Su She was ex-Lan. This seems super unlikely, given that JGY is good at collecting information that he can use to fuck with people, and also that he sheltered Lan Xichen from the Wens directly after Su She betrayed him.

Lan Xichen seems like he doesn't believe what JGY is telling him but then he decides to drop it, passive-aggressively saying that since JGY is uninformed, he's not guilty. Lan Xichen is actually assuming a lot here about his right to tell Jin Guangyao who to invite and who to shun, but JGY doesn't push back. Lying is so much simpler.

(more behind the cut!)

Su She wins for most unintentionally sarcastic-seeming toasting expression.

Jiang Cheng, Party Animal

Jiang Cheng arrives at the party, bringing his Jiang retinue and his bad temper. He super obviously casts around to try to find Wei Wuxian, who already told him he probably wasn't coming to the party.

Jiang Cheng is that guy who only comes to a party because the girl he likes said she was thinking about going, and then he spends the whole party saying "hey have you seen Mei Lin? She said she was going to be here but I don't see her."

Jin Guangyao formally congratulates Jiang Cheng on the Jiang clan's success in the hunt, and Jin Guangshan toasts him. As always, Jiang Cheng reacts to praise from authority figures like it's rain in the desert, smiling from ear to ear. He says that the Jiang Clan will donate the prey from the hunt to the other gentry clans. ...what?

Are we seriously saying that when these dudes go night hunting it's not just to remove dangerous bad stuff, it's for profit? 

Like, do they eat monsters? Wear their fur? Make leather from their skin? Carve jewelry from their claws? Is Jiang Cheng wearing a purple monster's skin right now? (There will be an art prompt at the end of this post)

Meanwhile, check out the way Nie Huaisang is looking at Jiang Cheng, wow.

Forecast: Hazing

Having gotten the single pleasant part of the banquet over with, it's time for the Jins to pick on the Lans. Cousin Jin Zixun goads Lan Xichen into taking a drink with him, knowing that this is (mostly) against Lan rules. Jin Guangyao tries to stop him by saying, hilariously, that it's bad to drink and fly on a sword, but CJZX waves this away and keeps pushing, saying that if Lan Xichen won't drink, it's an insult to him.

A random cultivator who is definitely on the Jin payroll backs him up, saying that teetotaling is for losers, and Captain Blowhard boisterously agrees. Loudly agreeing with powerful people is the Yao clan's signature martial arts skill.

Jin Guangyao looks embarrassed and helpless, which is, as mentioned before, his own signature skill. But he's just playing his own part in this piece of theater; everything happening at this party (so far) is happening for the benefit of the Jin Clan. Cousin Jin Zixun is an ass, but he's not actually a loose cannon, and Jin Guangshan is clearly enjoying the Lans' discomfort.

Why? This entire party, the hunt, everything he's done since the end of the Sunshot campaign, has been designed to increase and consolidate his power. His main goal is to get the Yin Tiger seal, but reducing the status of the Lans is also a good move for him. The Lans have been the strongest opponents to the use of resentful energy, and worked the hardest to conceal and contain the Yin iron in the past. If he wants to use resentful energy as part of his own cultivation, he needs them to chill. 

So this is a bit of a test; will they comply with the will of the larger group in order to avoid conflict, or will they refuse, which will allow him to label them as iconoclastic weirdos?. 

Lan Xichen takes a long look at his brother, who is expressing all sorts of emotions while keeping his face very very still. 

At a guess, he is thinking that this entire party is bullshit, that his brother's willingness to play along with these assholes is bullshit, that being viciously beaten for having a single drink in his life was bullshit, that Wei Wuxian not being here right now is bullshit.

Lan Xichen picks the "go along, get along" path, having his drink and using his magic skill of anti-intoxication to neutralize it, as he'd done previously when drinking with Wei Wuxian. 

Cousin Jin Zixun picks on Lan Wangji next, and since he cannot magically or even non-magically tolerate alcohol, there is a real risk to his reputation if he drinks. But Lan Wangji breaks rules when he feels like it, not when people tell him to. He pointedly ignores the offered drink while Lan Xichen looks worried. 

The rest of the party guests have a wide variety of reactions, none of them helpful, to these shenanigans. Jin Guanshan's son and heir watches with calm interest as the power dynamics play out.

All of this is actually not great strategy for the Jins. The Lans don't play little social games to gain power, because all that time they spend not drinking, not gossiping, and not doing other stuff? Is spent cultivating and practicing sword and musical battle forms. The Lan Bros are overwhelmingly powerful as individuals, and embarrassing them won't change that.

It's moot, ultimately, because Wei Wuxian chooses this moment to arrive.

Darkness Visible

Wei Wuxian actually made a big impressive stair-climbing entrance to Jinlintai a few minutes ago, with camera work echoing Lan Wangji's stair climb at the Wen Indoctrination Bureau from several episodes back. 

But nobody was around to see that, other than us, and when he appears at the party it's in stealth mode; he steps into the frame from out of nowhere, and drinks Lan Wangji's unwanted drink.

Lan Wangji responds by looking at him like this for the next several minutes.

Wei Wuxian doesn't have time for their usual sport of Extreme Gazing, though; he came for a reason, which is to find and rescue Wen Ning. He gets right to it, asking Cousin Jin Zixun where he's keeping him.

Jiang Cheng, who is the king of worrying about the wrong fucking thing, jumps up to try to stop Wei Wuxian from talking. Like, seriously, he's ok with the Jins trying to take his clan's special extreme weapon, but he's not ok with his head disciple being rude in order to fulfill a whopper of a life debt--Jiang Cheng's life debt, in particular--or being rude in order to preserve the clan's independence.

Jin Guangshan decides this is a good moment to bring up the Yin tiger amulet. Wei Wuxian pushes back, hard, pointing out exactly what Jin Guangshan is doing. He says he's setting himself up to be a new Wen Ruohan. 

Lan Wangji pays close attention to Wei Wuxian's reasoning here, and so does Nie Mingjue, unless he’s just trying to mask his confusion. 

Jiang Cheng is too busy being horrified to listen, apparently. Or he just doesn’t agree, preferring to be reduced to a secondary authority, rather than defy a primary authority.

Wei Wuxian is, of course, all about independence; he was literally born to be a rogue cultivator, despite being dubbed “patriarch” himself, not long after this. 

Let’s Go Crazy Let’s Get Nuts

Wei Wuxian gets tired of the scene and decides to lose his temper. He makes a show of being enraged, and he genuinely is angry, but I don't think he's out of control, this time.  

He acts like he's out of control in order to scare everyone, but he makes his points very clearly, reminding everyone that he has power they don't have, that he's good at killing, that he's not patient, and that his teeth are nicer than everybody else’s. 

Everybody in the room freaks out to one degree or another--except Jin Guangshan, who is apparently too pissed off to be scared.

It's hilarious that Jin Guangshan thought he was going to get Wei Wuxian to hand the Yin Tiger amulet over by creating a complex system of social pressure against him. Wei Wuxian's favorite way of responding to social pressure is to escalate it into violence, regardless of the consequences; he's been doing that at least since Gusu Summer School and probably a lot longer. Jin Guangshan should know this, given how many beatings his son has taken from Wei Wuxian over the years.

Wei Wuxian does a fantastically sexy scary, theatrical countdown, and Cousin Jin Zixun caves in and gives him the information he wants. It's worth noticing that even under threat of death, CJZX doesn't comply until he visually checks in with his clan leader. He’s genuinely a bad person, yes, but he’s a loyal soldier, which is what most of these clans value most. 

As soon as he gets what he wants, Wei Wuxian is perfectly, smugly, in control of himself again. Everyone in the room is still stunned and afraid, so Jin Guangshan has achieved that much, at least; nobody likes Wei Wuxian having the Yin tiger seal now, including Jiang Cheng. 

As he leaves, Wei Wuxian has one of those conversations with Lan Wangji in which everything is said in glances in the course of a couple of seconds. 

WWX: I love you, I have to leave you; I've got some shit to take care of and I won't be coming back to all of this. 

LWJ: I love you; I'm probably going to have to fight you; your funeral is going to be so upsetting

Wei Wuxian turns away from everyone, and you can see the weight settling on his shoulders, as he contemplates the choices he just made and the choices that are still ahead of him. 

Jin Guangshan, for the first and only time, loses his temper in front of everybody, literally flipping a table because he's so mad about what just happened. 

Art prompt: Jiang Cheng wearing an outfit made of a Chinese mythical creature. Bonus points if it’s a qilin. Bonus bonus points if Zhang Qiling (from DMBJ/Lost Tomb franchise) is standing next to him looking grumpy while Jiang Cheng wears an outfit made from a qilin. 

Soundtrack: Get This Party Started by Pink, Charm Attack by Leona Naess, Let’s Go Crazy by Prince. 

[pestis-blight]

RiddleHat babbles again this time with a small HC that Tetch's gotta comfort himself with 6 oclock and counting, and has a big ol obsession with his mental health being shit / how he's got a temper and could hurt others - It plagues him :/

No physical violence mentioned, just implied - Still messing about w how I write 'em cos Ed needs work but like I say It's Progress ?

Edward doesn't consider himself a conventional man. Nor does he look at Jervis and see conventional. Currently, he saw the man counting down the ticking seconds in sets of six. Up to sixty. And repeat for six minutes minutes.

While the hatter had been seen as a spectacle on a surface level for his obsessive needs, Edward could often blag a charming streak of beauty to be present.

He wondered, for a moment, why it mattered to him. Why, when watching the older man hunched over his pocket watch and chewing at his fingers, he evaluated themselves against each other.

Though he wasn't evaluating with scrutiny so much as he was observing.

There, dressed in polka dots and checkers, all blended into bright colours, was Jervis Tetch. The Mad Hatter.

There was nothing mad about him.

Convincing him otherwise was a different notion. One Edward had given up on long ago.

Jervis, amidst his small ritual, seemed content within himself. He was mad by name, self appointed and wearing his shunned status with as much pride that a wet dog could have.

And still he found himself drawn to the other - his earnest nature, his rambling tangents, the routine they'd settled into while together (though Edward had no doubt it was something Jervis did regardless).

"You're staring --" the seconds continued in a breath.

"Can't a man enjoy the view?"

There wasn't a reply for a beat. The snap of a pocket watch indicated the six minute mark had passed. "Dinner."

"Is that an invitation?"

Jervis shook his head with a flushed laugh. "Not now, Edward. Not now."

"That's a shame. It's six."

"It's always six."

"I could always fix the --"

"No! No, no, thank you. Thank you."

Ed couldn't help the gentle and sympathetic smile to his face. Self-appointed madness. All Jervis needed was help. Just like him. Just like the rest of them...

But bunked away, hiding from the bat, and avoiding Arkham left help out of reach and out of mind.

"Can't risk having it broken?" He asked his hatter. Though, when met with a vacant gaze, he waited for the other to respond.

Jervis shook his head violently left to right, continuing for longer than usual. He must have lost count.

Carefully, Edward settled by him. "You know, Jervis, I don't think I've ever encountered an enigma like yourself."

The hatter turned to his present company with furrowed brows. "No, of course not. You're E. Nygma. Not myself. Rather, you've never met anyone so tetchy as myself."

Ed furrowed his brows, about to speak, before his hatter continued.

"Irritable, Dear."

"I'll have to hold you on that, Tetch. Don't care to see it. Don't dare to provoke it. I've seen what's happened around the bat and I'm not going to be on the other end of that axe of yours."

Evidently, this was the wrong thing to say. Jervis's face paled, his hands clutching his pocket watch all while he grimaced and shook his head again.

"Never, Edward, never." He paused with a shaking sigh; defeat. "At least I hope so."