#however it’s just- it’s the things that transfer and the memories that don’t

[phoenixwithapencil]

I wonder if the chocobros ever notice oddities about the armiger

Ignis maps out their expenses one night, budgeting for curatives and ingredients to get in Lestallum only to find the next day that his math was thousands of gil off. He catalogues the items in the armiger and wonders how one of Regis’s canes got in there, wonders how an old pair of glasses managed to go nearly opaque sitting in a pocket dimension for long enough he forgets ever owning them.

Gladio reaches into the armiger for his usual outfit one morning only to find it smeared in daemonic miasma and grime. And he’s not the most observant person in the world sure, but the fishing rod Noct pulls out today is much, much fancier than anything he’s ever owned before.

Prompto wonders often if the sorrow in Noct’s eyes was always there, wonders if he wasn’t quite paying attention the day Noct managed to grab a trident or why when he reaches into his pocket he pulls out an elaborate talisman that he’s never seen before

All three wonder why Noctis will sometimes, in quiet moments on the road or winding down at camp, assure them of their positions. That Gladio is the best shield he could ask for, that Ignis is beyond capable no matter what (and that Ignis has sacrificed so much already- he needn’t sacrifice any more), that Prompto is the best friend he could have and come hell or high water he wants him at his side. It’s out of character for him, but… not bad. No. Not bad at all

[auroralwriting]

the gun

spencer reid x genius!bau!reader

oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, they both reached for the gun, the gun, the gun…

"you just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius."

word count: 2.3k

warnings: cm violence, blood, enemies to lovers, kinda rushed im sorryyyy, fem reader slightly mentioned

a continuation of this story can be found here

Spencer and you always competed. He had an eidetic memory, you had a photographic.

The difference between you two was anything you ever saw, read, you held in long-term memory. Spencer’s, though, resided in short term. However, Spencer was also an autodidact, meaning he could teach himself anything. You also had a vast emotional intelligence. You had such strong empathy, you could detect any micro-detail anyone displayed, making you the perfect lie-detector one that even Hotch couldn’t evade.

Spencer was Jason Gideon’s special boy. Gideon helped Spencer make his way in the BAU. You were David Rossi’s special girl, him noticing your skills from a young age when he met you during a case. He guided you to make all the best choices, leading you to the BAU as well. It took a few years, timing and all, but you got there.

When Dave transferred to Quantico’s BAU, he requested your transfer as well. He thought you would mesh well with the team. More specifically, he assumed you and Spencer would become a genius duo; totally unstoppable.

Oh, how wrong he was. It was from the moment you’d corrected Spencer on some statistic he spewed, you both became enemies forced to co-exist on the same team. There was never a civil moment, always some fight. It was sad, too. You remembered the first time you saw him, you were struck by how cute he was. Too bad he decided to hate you before you got a chance.

Vividly, you remembered the most intense fight you both had.

“So someone with a medical degree,” Hotch muttered. “That’s got to be impossible.”

“It’s more likely that have a nursing degree.” Spencer replied. “We’d be looking at around one hundred eighty thousand people a year. If our unsub is a new graduate, that’s the numbers we’d be looking through.”

You shook your head, “It’s actually one hundred fifty seven thousand. Also, narrow it down to nursing degrees in New York, and you get around eight thousand. Eleven percent were men, so around six hundred. Lower it even more to those who don’t have any family members, most likely from group homes, you can get maybe seventy?”

oh, yes

Garcia clacked away at her keyboard, “My baby’s got it! Seventy two people. If we’re looking at NYU specifically, thirteen.”

Pride filled your system. It was fulfilling when you were able to get things right. Spencer, on the other hand, wasn’t too happy about that.

“You know, nobody asked your opinion.” He scoffed.

“It isn’t opinion, Reid. It’s purely fact, ones you should probably get right.” Your reply had Spencer clenching his fists.

How dare you insult his intelligence? His IQ was much larger than yours, you weren’t one to speak on that. “Maybe you should focus on the case instead of trying to be a people pleaser,” Spencer sneered your way.

His reply made you roll your eyes, “At least I can tell what people want. You’re oblivious, Reid.”

oh, yes

Slowly, the two of you began to go back and forth, your voices raising. Before the situation blew up, Hotch stepped in, trying to mediate. However, Spencer mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t just let go. It hurt, stung like a bee, and you weren’t going to let him walk away feeling victorious.

“At least my mentor didn’t up and leave me.” you snapped. “He’s still with me, he didn’t just vanish with a stupid little note as a dingy goodbye.”

Spencer had paused, face dropping. You read him like a book, you’d gone too far. He showed minuscule signs of distress, grief, sadness. The room was silent, no one quite knew what to say.

oh, yes

“Reid, I-”

“Save it.”

Spencer had walked away, leaving you to feel shameful of your words. Rossi just squeezed your shoulder. The man knew you didn’t mean it.

they both

Since then, it was like the two of you were on each other’s cases, constantly bickering and arguing. Now, you were almost subconsciously battling each other for the genius role of the team. Was there any need to? No, not at all, but your fights had become not a battle, but a war.

You stood outside the bank with your team. “They have hostages,” You identified, attempting to peer inside. “There’s no way we can go in. It’s a suicide-murder mission.”

oh, yes

“There’s gotta be a way,” JJ shook her head. “Maybe there’s another way in.”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Derek sighed.

After a few hours, Will made the decision to go inside. You had to help hold back JJ as he walked in. Hearing the bullets made you sick. You physically had to double over, holding back the tears. It suddenly hit you how dire the situation was. You went back to the van with the team. No one really knew what to say.

"Did you see where he was shot?" JJ asked. "Is he alive or dead, Garcia?"

Penelope's breath was shaky, "I don't know."

"He was wearing a vest." Emily reasoned. "He might be okay."

JJ gave a smile, but it was one of disbelief. "Might be," She muttered, shaking her head in reply.

It was then that the team decided to go in. You shoved your gun in your holster, "I'll take first point," You offered. "Check and see if Will's okay. I'll try and manipulate them into letting me go to him." Hotch nodded. With your knowledge of psychology and your emotional intelligence, Hotch knew you could do it.

they both

"L/n, it's too dangerous." You heard Spencer say over the phone. "Just wait for me to tell you where to go in."

You rolled your eyes, "Reid, I'm not stupid. I've handled multiple hostage situations."

Spencer didn't reply. You liked that. This was the first time you'd be able to prove yourself without Spencer's help. This was honestly just a way for you to prove you were the better of the two. Your actions were motivated by the desire to be the best; a classic narcissistic move. You weren't a narcissist, though. You just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius.

Oddly enough, hostages flooded out of the bank as you made your way back outside. Maybe Will was alive and managed to get them all out. Once none more came out, you and two other cops began to make your way inside stealthily.

Right as you got in the middle of the bank, you heard Rossi's panicked voice over your comms, "Abort, abort!"

oh, yes

There was no time to reply. It all happened so suddenly. You heard the explosion before you felt it. It was hard to breathe. You couldn't see, hear. It slowly registered that there was a bomb, and it went off.

they both reached for

You had no clue where you had been thrown to. Everything felt cold, really cold. A loud ringing filled your ears as you slowly sat up. You touched your head, pulling back to feel stickiness on your fingers. Your vision was blurry, but you knew it was blood. You had to get out of the building. You needed help, medics, your team. Was anyone else in your team inside yet?

they both reached for the gun

A grunt left your lips as you stood up. You felt your legs give out under you, and you went down again. The desire to live was stronger than your physical weakness, and you stood up again. It was so dusty and hazy that you couldn't see. You leaned on the nearest wall for support, slowly using it to try and find your way out of the building. All that you heard in your head was get out, survive, get out, survive.

After what felt like ages, you felt a breeze against your skin. You followed it, hoping it would lead out, and it did. The light was harsh on your eyes as you tried to scan the area. It was then you saw Spencer and Hotch-- what was Spencer doing here? He was still at the BAU last you'd checked. Maybe the blast knocked you out cold.

Trudging your way over, you weakly called out. "Aaron, Spencer,"

the gun

Spencer knew he heard his name. He looked up from the blueprints of the building to see you, blood covering different parts of your body, your skin covered in debris and dust. You had limp, and your eyes were blown out. "Oh my god," he muttered, running over to you.

the gun

The genius took your in his arms as you fell into him, "How'd you get here?" you asked. "What's for dinner?"

Spencer took notice of your confusion as he allowed you to lean on him. He took your face in his hands, "Y/n, look at me. Focus on me,"

the gun

You couldn't directly look at him. Your eyes darted all over the place. "Where's Rossi? Did he go in?"

"No, Rossi's okay." Spencer leaned over his shoulder, "We need a medic!" He yelled, quickly turning his attention back to you. "It's okay, you're okay."

oh, yes

"I can't feel anything," you breathed out, "That can't be normal. Is that normal? Spencer, am I dying?"

oh, yes

Spencer shook his head, "You're okay, it's okay."

"I can't die," You softly whimpered. "I'm sorry, Spencer. 'M so mean to you, I don't mean to be."

Deep down, Spencer knew you meant what you were saying. The fear of dying without getting your true feelings out always lead to admissions of the truth. "I know, I know," Spencer smoothed your hair. "I don't hate you, I don't. You're going to be okay." Spencer slowly became anxious as he noticed the amount of blood seeping from your head. "Look at me, please, keep talking to me."

"'M sorry," You muttered, feeling your eyes grow heavy. Spencer's face began to fade as you collapsed in his arms.

Spencer felt his breathing grow heavy as he held you tightly. "Medic! She's-- oh, god, Help!"

they both reached for the gun.

A steady beeping was the first thing you heard as you woke up. The light was a blinding white, and you let out a groan at it. Your body hurt like hell, and your head was pounding.

"Shh, shh. It's okay, here, let me just--"

The white lights went out and all that was left was the stream of daylight coming through the windows, along with a lamp that was a warmer light. It was much more comfortable that way. You quickly guessed you were in a hospital. The beeping, white lights, smell of rubbing alcohol that you just identified.

"How do you feel?"

Spencer. You turned your head to look at him. His face held deep concern. He was holding your hand. "I--" You paused, considering his question. "I feel like shit."

He let out a soft chuckle, "Yeah. You kind of got exploded." That's right, the bomb.

"Oh, Will, the team, are they okay?" You softly asked.

Spencer nodded, "Everyone's okay, we got the unsubs. It's all okay now."

You remembered Spencer's words. You should have waited to go in. If you had waited, maybe you wouldn't be in this situation right now. "I should've listened to you." You stated weakly. "You were right. I was being stupid."

"Hey, no," Spencer quickly interrupted. "You were doing your job."

"I wasn't," you shook your head. "I wanted to prove myself. I-I wanted.. to show that I didn't just do victimology and simple hostage relief situations. I wanted to prove myself like you have." You stopped, sucking in a pained breath. You felt your eyes become glassy. "I wanted to prove to everyone I was just as good as you."

Spencer felt his heart break at your words. You both knew overall, he was smarter. It never occurred to him that your constant bickering was to prove yourself, and not to prove him wrong. "You're better." Spencer decided to say. "I mean, I can't relate to our victims, hell, our unsubs the way you can."

"Spencer,"

"I'm serious." He continued. "You're so important to this team. You-you push us to be better." Spencer cleared his throat, "You push me to be better."

You stared at Spencer blankly for a moment, "I never told you that I like this haircut."

Spencer gave you a slightly surprised look. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," You hummed. "It makes you look, I don't know, less like Einstein and more like, uh, a really smart James Dean."

"James Dean," Spencer repeated, "I've never gotten that one before. Are those meds talking right now?"

You shook your head slowly, "Probably the clearest I've thought in a while." You replied, causing Spencer to smile. "Why did you stay with me?"

Spencer paused for a moment, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know we bicker a lot. Well, more than a lot. Probably several times a day, but I still care about you. I-I was.. really scared for you. I don't think I could forgive myself if I let you walk in there and you'd died."

"It wouldn't have been your fault," You tried. Spencer just shook his head.

"It would have been. I should've rationalized it with you. When I saw you, I just thought, 'What have I been doing this whole time? Have I really been wasting my breath arguing with you when we could've made the best team'? I remember when Rossi first introduced you, I was like, 'No way someone this pretty is doing this', when you should've been some model or something." Spencer rambled. He did that, paired with hand fidgeting, when he was nervous. He rambled as he played with your fingers.

You took a breath in, hoping for the best. "Hey, maybe we could, uh, go to one of those team based trivia nights at O'Keefe's?"

"Are-are you asking me out?" Spencer asked.

"Only if you're saying yes." You responded. "I, uh, maybe thought we could start over."

Spencer gave a chuckle, "Yeah, trivia night sounds good. I'd like a retry at this. Maybe we're, uh, meant to be more than just a team."

You smiled at him, knowing that a simple friendship wouldn't be highest point of your new relationship with the genius.

[fear-is-truth]

༉‧₊˚. j’s note. for @redskies-7. turned out a bit longer than i expected but only because i adored your request … warnings: mature content. 18+. mastūrbation. fingēring

peter had been on high alert ever since the mission that left you with nasty gashes across your abdomen. the memory of you collapsing, blood soaking through your suit, haunted him, and he’d been an absolute wreck ever since. even now, with bandages wrapped snug around your waist and most of the pain fading to a dull ache, he still treated you like you were on death’s doorstep. “okay, careful, careful,” he’d mutter every time you so much as shifted on the bed. peter would zip over in a blur, fluffing pillows and checking the bandages even when you insisted you were fine.

you had tried to hint that you wanted his attention for something other than fussing over you. but to your disappointment, he’d just shake his head, “uh, no can do, babe,” he’d say, practically vibrating with nervous energy. “you need rest, and i’m, like, a terrible influence when it comes to resting. last thing i wanna do is, y’know, make things worse.”

but you were feeling better. really. and you were tired of the distance he was forcing between you, however well-intentioned it was. late one night, you woke up feeling restless, perhaps a little too desperate. the ache of your injuries having dulled considerably, transferring to a different kind of ache, slow and burning between your thighs. peter was sprawled next to you, completely conked out and snoring softly. wincing, you adjusted yourself into a more comfortable position before slipping your fingers under the waistline of your panties.

you squirmed at the much-needed contact, hoping it would be enough to take the edge off. you bit your lip, trying to stifle any moans… but your small fingers were far from enough to ease some of the pent-up frustration from two long weeks of forced rest. but then, just as you finally felt the tickle of a weak orgasm, you heard your boyfriend let out a low, sleepy groan.

“hey… what’s goin’ on?” you turned your head to see him blinking himself awake, silver hair sticking up in all directions. as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, they landed on the guilty look on your face, how your hands were conveniently under the covers. a slow, lazy grin spread across his face as he put two and two together.

“wait a sec…” he raised an eyebrow, looking far too pleased with himself. “are you…?” heat flooded your cheeks, and you froze, pulling the blanket up over your face in embarrassment. “peter, it’s nothing. just… go back to sleep,” you mumbled, but he only chuckled, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“wait, are you…?” he asked, a hint of poorly concealed amusement in his voice. “no way.” he stretched out his arms and looked at you, that amused smirk making your face go even hotter. “you couldn’t just ask me for help?”“peter,” you whispered, mortified, pulling the blanket up in an attempt to hide your face.

“just—g-go back to sleep.”

“nah, can’t do that now,” he gently tugged the blanket back down to see your face. his smile turned downright devious. “you’re over here trying to go solo when i’m literally right here?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “babe, i’m almost offended. i thought we were supposed to be a team.”

you buried your face in your hands, utterly embarrassed. but, to your surprise, the teasing stopped immediately; off like a switch. peter nudged your hands away gently, looking at you with earnest concern.

“look,” he began, softer this time, “i know you’re still healing, but—i’ll get back in the groove real quick. don’t want you wearing yourself out, right?” peter flexed his fingers, stretching them out with a flourish, and then, his whole hand started to tremble, no that wasn’t the right word — his hand was vibrating. there was a slight blur to it, as his fingers quivered like a hummingbird’s wings, the movement almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

“…or did you forget my specialty?” he wiggled his eyebrows. you giggled despite yourself, embarrassment starting to melt away as peter braced himself with one forearm planted carefully by your side, making sure not to press into your bandaged torso. “so… what do you say?” he whispered into your ear, “let me take care of you?”

and just like that, you were granted something you’d been denied for weeks. peter had always prided himself on his unique style of “multitasking”. thanks to his ADHD, focusing on one thing wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but with you, he was hell-bent on trying. besides, he was pretty sure he could handle it—especially since you’d made it clear you really needed him right now.

“mghm ohmygod yes, right there, right there–”

he let out a little chuckle at your enthusiasm, lips brushing along your jawline as his vibrating fingers plunged in and out of you. “you know i kept telling myself, ‘peter, you gotta be responsible, let her heal,’” his voice dropped, almost like he was letting you in on some big secret.

“but… c’mon, you’re you. how was i supposed to stay away?” he moved to press a kiss just below your ear, letting out a little dramatic sigh. normally, you would’ve been slightly annoyed with peter’s chattiness, but his voice now possessed a soothing quality that served the purpose to ground you… and distract you from the lewd squelches that reached your ears.

“fuck, you’re, like, my kryptonite. i missed you like this,” your fingers were tangled in his hair, threading through the soft, messy silver strands, and as you gave a gentle tug, peter let out a low hum of contentment. his eyelids fluttered for a second, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a lazy grin as his lips continued their slow, lazy journey from your collarbone down to the soft curve of your breast.

“mhm, keep doin’ that baby. you’re so good fer me.”

he mumbled against your skin, swirling his tongue around your rock-hard nipple while sinking in knuckle-deep. reduced to nothing but a writhing mess in the sheets, the only response that sounded from you was a strained whimper, the moment you felt his fingers curl against your sweet spot. the glorious stretch made you realise just how much you were missing out in this two weeks of abstinence, and how hard it must’ve been for peter as well—judging by the way his hips were rocking against the mattress.

“should’ve woken me up sooner—would’ve saved you a whole lotta trouble.” another moan slipped past your lips as peter began to thrust his fingers with more vigour, reaching deeper than you never thought possible while simultaneously maintaining that delicious vibration in his fingertips. the heat that had been building in the pit of your stomach was fuelled with each stroke of his thumb on your on your clit, and within seconds, a mind-numbing pleasure set your entire bloodstream ablaze. as you rode out your orgasm, peter’s other hand slid over yours, lacing your fingers together.

as your breathing finally started to even out, you glanced over at your boyfriend, who was watching you with that soft, starry-eyed look, his teeth catching on his bottom lip. he caught you staring and gave you a small, lopsided smile, reaching over to brush a few stray hairs from your face. “feelin’ better?” you nodded yes, still catching your breath, and leaned forward to press a slow, lingering kiss to his lips, feeling the heat of his erection poke against your abdomen.

when you pulled back, you whispered, “i wanna do something for you, too. with you, to be exact.”

his eyes widened, that hint of pink deepening in his cheeks. for a second, he just stared, looking torn, like he was debating with himself. you could practically see the gears turning in his head, weighing his worry against his own need for you. then peter sighed deeply, running a hand through his messy hair, trying to muster his usual bravado.“okay, fine,” he finally relented, shifting to move on top of you carefully, his hand bracing by your side to avoid putting any pressure on your bandaged torso. “but if i hurt you—or if you start bleeding again—i’m… i’m wrapping you up in so much gauze you won’t be able to move,”

a/n: sorry if this sounded ooc… it’s been a while since i’ve written for peter </3

 fear-is-truth

[orellazalonia]

Caged in Comfort (Pt. 2)

Summary: While Bucky gets you something to eat, you have a discussion with Steve and formulate a plan to bide your time. However, that eventually cracks when Bucky returns with some soup and milk. (Dark Stucky x little!reader)

Warnings/Disclaimer: Minors DNI. Dark Stucky. Age Regression. Forced Age Regression. (Feeding.) Kidnapping. References to Labs. Lots of dialogue. Drugged food and Stockholm Syndrome in the future likely.

Word Count: 1.6k+

A/N: I haven’t actually decided if I want the food to be drugged or not. I’m also not sure if this series would be interesting enough to read either. Regardless, please read the warnings. You are responsible for the media you consume. Let me know if I should add something else to the warnings, tags, or anything else.

Caged in Comfort Masterlist | Previous | Next

You stay still long after the door closes.

Steve doesn’t move either. He just holds you, one arm secure around your middle, the other gently combing his fingers through your hair. It’s too much; the tenderness. It scratches at something raw inside you. You’ve had scientists touch your skin with gloves, handlers yank your arms into place. This isn’t clinical. It’s worse.

“You know who we are, don’t you?” He says softly, not trying to force an answer.

You nod against his shoulder. You know exactly who they are. You’d heard of the guards talk of them. The scientist who tried to replicate what they were. You’ve heard your handlers speak about their DNA, about what made them tick. The serum of particular interest. You know what they are capable of. You never could have imagined this though.

“They called you super soldiers,” You murmur. “Potential weapons. Not people.”

Steve flinches at that, just slightly. “And what did they call you?”

You swallow, hating the memories that flicker through your mind briefly.

“They…didn’t call me anything. Just a number.”

He exhales slowly, holding you tighter. “Well, they were wrong.”

“No,” You whisper. “They weren’t.”

He doesn’t argue. That’s almost worse than if he had. You shift a little, just enough to glance toward the door. Calculating and observant. Steve notices though. Of course he does.

“He locked it,” He says gently. “Not because we don’t trust you. But because you’re scared. Scared people do reckless things.”

“I’m not scared,” You lie.

“You’re shaking.”

You hate that he’s right. It wasn’t enough that your life had been spent controlled by someone else’s wishes. At your first opportunity of being free from that place, you’re still trapped. Ownership now simply being transferred to whom should’ve been your saviors. Heroes who could’ve helped you adapt to a new life, not force you into one of their fantasies. A beat of silence passes. Then:

“I know what regression is,” You mutter, almost like it’s a curse.

Steve blinks. “You do?”

You nod slowly. “The others… the ones before me. Some of them couldn’t take it. Some snapped. Others regressed and went all soft. The scientists liked it, made them easier to control.”

Something tightens in his jaw. That’s not what he wanted to hear. It doesn’t match his image of how things would go: this warm, soft fantasy of what he thinks he’s offering you. But it seems you’re not going to let them paint over your trauma with pastel colors and lullabies.

“So if that’s what this is,” You snap, twisting in his hold just enough to look him in the eye, “If you think I’m going to curl up and call you Papa because you put me in a pink room and comfort me, you’re wrong.”

Steve’s expression doesn’t change much. But something behind his eyes shifts. He leans in just a little, brushing your hair behind your ear. “I don’t want to force you,” He says. “I want you to choose this. To feel safe enough to fall. Because you deserve softness. You deserve comfort.”

“No one deserves anything,” You say, the words bitter. The truth you’ve come to accept long ago. “Not in this world.”

“That’s what they taught you,” He murmurs. “That’s not the truth.”

You go quiet. But your brain doesn’t stop working. It never stops. You watch the way he looks at you. How he talks to you like you’re already his. That same warped gentleness Bucky wore earlier, albeit softer and more visible. You’re not dealing with captors. Not exactly. You’re dealing with men who believe, truly believe, they’re saving you.

And that’s when an idea strikes you. If they believe it? Then, you can use it.

“Fine,” You whisper eventually, your voice cracking in just the right place. You let your head rest against his chest again, limbs going limp. “I’ll try.”

Steve exhales a soft breath, full of relief. You feel it in his chest. You wonder why he doesn’t suspect you. Maybe he does. Maybe he truly believes he can mold you into their perfect little girl, waiting for who knows how long for this. But truthfully, your words are hollow. You don’t mean it. Not really. You’re going to play their game. You’re going to smile. Take their kindness. Let them think you’re softening. Let them hold you and wrap you in blankets and stroke your hair.

And the second that door is unlocked; You’ll run.

Your train of thought gets interrupted when the door opens again with a click. You don’t flinch this time. You remain curled in Steve’s lap, just like he left you, even though your muscles ache with tension under the calm exterior you’re forcing. You keep your eyes half-lidded, mouth set in a dazed sort of frown. You’ve seen the others wear this look. You can fake it too. At least, you hope you can.

Bucky walks in holding a tray. Soup, you think, and something warm in a bottle. Your stomach clenches at the scent before you can stop it.

“Good,” He says, shutting the door behind him. “She hasn’t moved.”

“I told you,” Steve says, brushing his fingers down your back. “She’s trying.”

Trying. That word sits in your mouth like rust. It makes you feel like you’re being graded, watched through one-way glass. You glance at Bucky. He’s watching you with that same hard edge in his eyes. Not cruel nor unkind, but… territorial. Protective. Like a wolf guarding something he’s decided belongs to him.

Bucky sets the tray on the bedside table, then kneels in front of you. Your first instinct is to pull away, but you fight it. You keep your face blank. Small. Helpless.

“This one’s chicken and rice,” He says, holding up the bowl. “Easy on your stomach. Warm. And you’re going to eat the whole thing.”

You blink at him slowly, not answering. Partly for the act but half from the sheer audacity and sureness this man holds. The way they both act so certain is frightening. However, you don’t let it show.

Steve presses a kiss to your temple. “Sweetheart? Can you sit up for Buck? Just a little?”

You shift slightly, only because Steve is guiding you. Not because you want to. You still feel like your bones are made of ice. Bucky lifts the spoon, not handing it to you. Holding it like he’s going to do it.

Your mouth twitches. “I can feed myself.” While you never had five course meals before, you were still allowed to feed yourself whatever mush or food your previous handlers would serve. You had a choice. You still had that fleeting sense of autonomy.

“No,” Bucky says, blunt. “You can’t. You’re too little. Not right now.”

Your hands curl into fists, a flicker of resistance present; but Steve rubs your back again and murmurs, “Just let us take care of you.”

You know what this is. You know it’s not about food. It’s about power. Control disguised as nurture. Infantilization disguised as affection. But still, your stomach growls. And the smell makes your head spin. So, you open your mouth.

Bucky feeds you the first spoonful with slow, deliberate care. It’s warm. It tastes like nothing you ever got in the lab. You hate how good it is.

“There you go,” Steve murmurs as he watches you obediently take bite after bite. “Just like that. Good girl.”

You tense.

You don’t want to like it. The praise. The warmth. But something in your brain flinches every time he says “good girl,” like it’s wired to respond. You push that part down. Deep away while Bucky offers another spoonful. By the fourth, he pauses to unscrew the top of the bottle. The milk inside is frothed and warm. Familiar almost, in a way that makes your throat tighten.

“I don’t need that,” You say hoarsely.

“You do,” Bucky replies. “It’s calming.”

“It’s a bottle.” Like the statement would change anything. Your exasperation and insistence do nothing to persuade either of them.

“You’ll drink it,” He says. “Or I’ll hold you in my lap and do it for you.”

That stops you cold in your protests. You glance at Steve, silently pleading. He was a bit more understanding in some twisted way. But he just gives you that same calm look, fingers combing through your hair again. “We’re trying to help you down,” He explains soothingly. “To feel safe. Cared for.”

“I’m not little,” You hiss, momentarily forgetting your initial plan.

“You are,” Bucky says again, with finality. “You just forgot how to feel it.”

You want to scream. You want to claw the bottle out of his hands and hurl it across the room. You know it won’t do you any good though if you’re trying to win their favor. So, instead, you reach for it. Bucky pulls it away from your grasp before pressing it to your lips, clearly intent on feeding you. With no where to go and nothing more you can say, you start to drink slowly, burning with shame. The milk is sweet. Too sweet. It fills your mouth with warmth that you almost hate yourself for liking.

Steve adjusts his hold, cradling you while you drink. Bucky wipes a smear of milk from your chin with a napkin like you’re two years old.

You don’t resist. Because that’s the only power you have left, to choose not to fight. To pretend. To outlast. They want a little? They’ll get one. And though it may be hell, you remind yourself it will be worth it when you get that chance to run and chase after that true freedom. Until that can happen, you hope you won’t succumb before then.

[thehivemindsys]

Eddie Gluskin Headcanons because I cannot stop thinking about him and im bored

Happy holidays, I usually just am not happy during this time of year so I’m pushing down my emotions and writing angst. Enjoy. Tw: Self harm, CSA, rape, misogyny, violence, typical outlast stuff.

-Eddie hates bathing and has to be physically restrained if the doctors wish to get him clean. This is mainly due to his CSA, as Eddie was attacked a lot while he was in the shower-but it is also due to him feeling uncomfortable with being nude for long periods of time.

-Eddie hates dogs. His family had a dog that was specifically trained to bite him if he commanded it to. Eddie doesn’t own any pets, really, and believes that cats are too “feminine” for him.

-During his initial murder spree, Eddie killed around 34 people-men and women, who he all gave the definition of “bride” to. He was found not guilty by reason of insanity, and was sent to Mount Massive Asylum. For a time, he actually had a proper psychologist before he was eventually signed up for the Walrider program after he attacked the wrong guard.

-Eddie has diagnosed Schizophrenia, BPD, psychosis, and could possibly qualify for a DID diagnosis.

-Eddie could possibly qualify for DID because he has a few seperate personality states: a younger version of himself, trapped within his childhood, “The Groom,” the dominant personality states, and a version of himself that is haunted by his trauma, and rather prefers to be alone. Though it is unclear if this is DID or just due to his BPD (he does dissociate from reality quite often, though).

-Eddie’s favorite movie growing up was Sleeping Beauty, and often quotes it to the best of his memory. He believes that Prince Phillip is the perfect depiction of a devoted husband, and Aurora is the most beautiful woman in the world.

-Sketching and tailoring are his favorite hobbies. He most often draws women in goregous dresses, and has a very traditional Disney-like style to his artwork.

-Eddie believes that it is the 1950s and is incapable of perceiving the current year as it is. He writes things like computers, camcorders, and cellphones off as “advanced space-age technology.” Don’t ever ask him to operate a computer because he would have absolutely no idea how to do it.

-If Eddie could comprehend the concept of a trans person, he would for sure be a supporter-due to his psychosis and delusions, however, he couldn’t comprehend it even if he tried. He can’t even comprehend that he may be gay.

-Eddie may have targeted women before the asylum, but once he was incarcerated, he practically exclusively targeted men-even when there was a female presence in the asylum, he didn’t attack them nearly as much as he did the men.

-Eddie is actually a pretty damn good chef. He has to be, considering his only qualification for a good “wife” is that “she” has to be alive and breathing. (Even then…)

-Eddie has a love for salted caramels.

-Eddie has a hard time keeping his anger in check, and rarely keeps his hands to himself. He was transferred to an isolation cell after he groped a guard, and he was never really allowed out of maximum security afterwards. This, plus other forms of inhumane treatment at the hands of Murkoff, eventually led to his mental health getting worse and his transfer to the Walrider program once it was deemed that he was “too far gone.”

-Eddie may be a charasmatic, boisterous man but deep down, he is suffering from crippling lonliness and deep seated insecurities that will likely never fully go away.

-Eddie did self harm before he was transferred to Mount Massive.

-Eddie’s best friend in the asylum is Frank Manera canonically, but he does have a rather good relationship with many of the Variants, including The Twins and Chris Walker. He and Frank used to have cells right next to one another, and communicated through a hole in the wall.

[misasimagines]

happy birthday Jiro!!! conspiracy time.

Okay, I don’t have any fics or hcs for Jiro’s birthday, but I do have a theory. I don’t think Yuri actually wants Jiro to get healthier and might actually prefer it if he stays unhealthy and dependent on Yuri. Theory below! This is long... If I missed anything or got anything wrong or if anyone has additional information to submit, PLEASE!!! Share!!!!

I also wrote this frantically to post before midnight lmao please go easy on me...

To start, we should look into what we know about Yuri:

He’s a transfer from Frostheim for reasons that have left him on very very very bad terms with Jin and Frostheim as a whole. He’s referred to as having run away to hide in Mortkranken. Whether he is the friend who betrayed Jin or not, I can’t say, but it’s very possible he was involved in something that left Jin and co upset with him to the point of basically exiling him. 

He’s afraid of Romeo, so Sinostra is another out for him by default. Why is he afraid, again, I can’t say, but this leaves him without possible support from two big possible financial backers. Since he is very serious about the budget and how Mortkranken looks, this is a bad thing for him and one he is assuredly very aware of. Remember, Yuri is obsessed with his own legacy, his own image. Mortkranken’s success is Yuri’s success. Mortkranken looking poor and having no accolades reflects poorly on him and he cannot separate himself from this.

He can’t fight, either by choice or lack of ability, and relies on Jiro to protect him. This is something they both acknowledge and is a feature of the Mortkranken chapter. It makes sense, as his stigma is not particularly combat focused and he complains about exercise.

And he has no allies or friends currently, at least publicly. Everyone who references him does so with a bit of distaste or distance, and when he is trying to convince his own Mortkranken students to help him and the MC carry up the vat of acid, he has to bribe them. He cannot appeal to their loyalty to him as their captain, their respect, their friendship- no, he has to pay them to help him.

Mortkranken as a whole operates on a laissez-faire foundation, where Yuri isn’t even aware of what the gen admission students are researching or who is interning at Darkwick General. Within his own house, the one he is the captain of, he is still an outsider and isolated from his peers.

If you go through Yuri’s home screen lines, he refers to Jiro A LOT, and like… no one else. Dude can’t do anything without having Jiro do it for him or with him. Their dynamic is very much Yuri ordering Jiro around and Jiro obeying (with complaints here and there, but mostly he just goes through with it all). There’s even a suggestion that Jiro might be the most effective impulse control that Yuri has. After failing to cure the MC’s cure with his new ibuprofen knockoff, he wants to jump right into shooting her up with anomaly blood without acknowledging the danger this could put her in. Jiro has to comment that there’s no reason to do this hastily, as it could kill her. Only then does Yuri back down and seem to recognize he was being too impulsive in his desire to hide his perceived failure. 

From all of this, we can see that Yuri does have a vested interest in keeping Jiro by his side. Jiro is smart, strong, seems to have few qualms with putting himself in danger, and is pragmatic enough as to acknowledge that he needs Yuri to survive. Why would Yuri pick Jiro, though, if he could have reasonably recruited someone else to protect him or be his assistant? There are physically stronger and more healthy ghouls, like Alan, or he could have tried to bond with someone more amenable like Rui (however, it seems like Rui might not be the biggest Yuri fan…more on that later) Well…

Jiro also… He’s not completely clear about his memory issues: 

For someone who is so straightforward, this seems VERY unclear and peculiar to me. He doesn’t say he doesn’t remember, he says his memories are vague and that there’s no evidence either way. If he is a suspect or if he did commit the murder and he DOES remember, then here’s another way Yuri could buy his alliance: corroborate Jiro having amnesia as a symptom of his sickness, or even worse, cause amnesia. After the graveyard, inter-house mission chapter and Jiro’s reaction to the crying ghost child, it’s not unfounded to say Jiro himself might have wanted to get rid of unpleasant memories.

Also note that the Vagastrom student says “kid” from Ultio, and Jiro’s negative reaction is to a ghost child. 

Now that we have that out of the way, what are some reasons how Yuri would potentially keep Jiro unhealthy and therefore reliant on him? The voiceline that started this theory is Jiro’s affinity 22 home screen voice line:

I’m not a medical student or a doctor or particularly versed in any of this, but from a little bit of research, my understanding is that simple interrupted sutures are used on shallower, more surgical cuts and could potentially leave lasting marks, while deep dermal sutures are done on a deeper layer of the flesh, more effective on larger wounds, and are generally meant to be used with suture materials that can be absorbed by the body once the wound has closed. Given that Jiro is noted to not heal very well, and Yuri frequently has to redress his wounds, it seems like maybe the shallower stitches aren’t holding up. Additionally, it doesn’t look like Jiro’s wounds are all exclusively surgical. Let’s take a minute to look at Jiro shirtless for conspiracy reasons, not lust reasons (okay, maybe some lust reasons):

Most of the cuts on his back and arms look like claw marks. They’re more jagged, asymmetric, and inconsistent. The scar down his chest is pretty strange given the star shapes, so that’s likely related to Yuri’s surgical incisions, but that’s not what Yuri is treating here. He’s treating the claw marked shaped wounds. Jiro is also NOT stupid, so the fact that he’s suggesting this is not to be overlooked. Yuri chooses not to listen, maybe because it would be more effective, and then he’d rely on Yuri less.

Then there are these moments:

The first one is a blatant lie, as Jiro is the one who does most of the shot-administering. He does the MC’s checkups, including bloodwork and giving her the dosage of Yuri’s liquid tylenol. The only time he falters in this is when his illness acts up and makes him shaky. So no, he doesn’t have a lack of expertise that keeps him from administering his own shots unless there’s something currently unknown (or I’m missing).

For the second screenshot, this is during the conversation between Yuri and Jiro where Jiro has presumably come back from Frostheim and is lying or experiencing memory problems when relaying his whereabouts to Yuri. He’s experiencing what they refer to as “cyanosis” which is low oxygen in the blood, causing extremities to change color in purple/blue (something you can see on his hands in his Halloween look, so it’s likely a recurring or constant condition). 

Yuri gives him an adrenaline shot, which, again, not in the medical field, but this seems fine? Adrenaline would speed up his heart which would encourage blood and oxygen flow to his extremities which would likely help. 

Jiro then requests metoclopramide hydrochloride which is a medication taken by people with gastrointestinal issues generally related to diabetes and acid reflux. It’s supposed to help with nausea and vomiting, both symptoms that pop up a lot for him. If he was in a coma for a long time and admits to not being able to eat anything, then this request of his makes sense. His stomach lining and esophagus were likely damaged by intubation and stomach acid, and any related surgery or medication could only add to this damage. 

Yuri responds just by giving him a glucose shot instead which Jiro allows, but it seems like this would only work if he had low blood sugar and not a wealth of other issues that he definitely has. I’m sure low blood sugar is something he experiences as well due to his inability to eat anything, but I don’t see anything that says this would treat his nausea. Curious that Yuri might be intentionally leaving Jiro to experience negative side effects!

And then there is, ultimately, Jiro lying or having memory issues when he claims to have been to Obscuary but returns to Mortkranken with snowflakes in his hair and he’s borderline hypothermic. Jiro is very blunt and straightforward, which could lead you to believe he doesn’t lie, but I don’t think that’s necessarily the correct position to take. He’s smart, he’s crazy smart when it comes to the medical field to the point that he’s making major discoveries with little acknowledgment from himself because he sees them as minor. Anything that Yuri does to him that isn’t 100% going to help him heal? He knows. And who else knows?

Rui.

Rui can watch things going on without anyone knowing he’s there, and he just so happens to interrupt a conversation where Tohma is CLEARLY trying to use leading questions on the MC to get her to reveal some information that would implicate a Mortkranken student, likely Jiro, as being a suspect in whoever interrogated and potentially killed a Frostheim student. Rui shows up and gives him an alibi. Why? Not sure, I have no clue what Rui’s relationship is to Jiro or if this interaction was purely to spite Tohma or if it was in opposition to Yuri somehow, but it’s suspicious nonetheless how this plays out.

So, basically, I don’t trust that Yuri has Jiro’s best interests at heart. I don’t mean to say in any of this that Yuri is evil, but I think he’s afraid and he’s clinging to a method of preserving his safety and that method is Jiro. As long as Jiro is reliant upon Yuri for medical care, Yuri can throw him at his problems and use him as an assistant and bodyguard. I also really hope to see how Rui is involved, if at all, and I have a general vibe that Rui, reaper as he is, might be able to see and/or hear Zenji... But that's just a vibe, I don't have evidence for that one :)

[trashogram]

I’m in a Lucifer x reader phase, pls tell me more about queen!reader IM BEGGING YOU!! 😭🥰

Ahhhh ok ok I… I don’t know what else to tell you though honestly 😥 Reader is you! Or whoever you picture her to be, so I can’t be too specific about her personality or appearance or past.

I guess there are some things I haven’t talked about. Shortly after the fall, Queen!Reader becomes ill, but it’s mostly her enduring the full transformation her body goes through: new set of sharp teeth, claws, horns, stronger skin, vision changes, etc. This poor family can’t really catch a break, but thankfully this phase just lasts for a month or two (in Earth’s calendar).

Afterward, when they’re not taking care of Charlie, Lucifer and the Queen are pretty much just falling more in love and having marathon sex 🤷‍♀️ Queen!Reader doesn’t take up ruling Hell in full until Charlie is 3-4yo.

Reader is able to tour the other rings once she and the new heir to the throne are introduced to the other Sins. She becomes stuck on the mistreatment received by hellborns due to the caste system and sets to work to reform it — which is an insane undertaking. Lucifer would rather she not bother with it and that they simply live in their own made-up paradise with Charlie, never messing with the rest of Hell. But nah, the Queen owns her damn title.

There are downsides to this — yes, Lucifer is a great househusband, who will eventually turn a new leaf and rule in full with his wife. But Charlie and her mother won’t be as close as they might’ve been had Reader vetoed rulership. Charlie grows up with a deep desire to follow in her mother’s footsteps and to continue the dream of making Hell a better place, but there’s some insecurity in that. Charlie tries to be good and do good, hoping her mother’s attention might transfer from that cause to Charlie.

Charlie has a Little Mermaid-esque fascination with the human world as well. She associates it with fond childhood memories as, when she was little, her parents would go on outings with her topside. Charlie loved when her mother would talk about being on Earth while alive — little memories and amusements that the Queen passes on to her daughter. Lucifer encouraged this because it’s part of his wife’s history and Charlie has humanity in her blood.

The princess has a collection of human objects too. Her fascination carries through to those around her as in the HCY-verse, Charlie grows up with Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor, Husk, Niffty, etc. She loves hearing about when they were human (Vaggie excluded, but that’s also a whole other thing).

Queen!Reader isn’t afraid of a lot. However, her biggest fear is Lute getting revenge for Adam’s death. And she’s right to be afraid, because Lute’s goal is to kill Charlie (and Lucifer if possible) in front of the Queen. When Vaggie is disgraced and forced to remain in Hell, she and the Queen manage a tenuous relationship based on keeping Charlie safe. Vaggie is the first soul that the Queen ever has a contract with as well.

✨Other little factoids✨

+ Queen!Reader permanently ends Valentino and dissolves Angel Dust’s contract while taking him in as a ward to the crown

+ Queen!Reader and adult Charlie butt heads when Charlie comes up with the idea of redemption for Sinners. Charlie doesn’t have a clear picture of how her mother and father were treated by Heaven, which is kind of Lucifer and the Queen’s fault.

+ The Queen scouts untamed land in Hell at some point and cultivates a bond with the hellbeasts that roam there.

+ Alastor becomes a sort of advisor to the Queen, although he and Lucifer don’t get along at all of course

+ Lucifer believes that there’s a chance they could conceive again and although the Queen doubts it, she doesn’t say no to the breeding kink

+ God exists and loves Queen!Reader — he’s so glad he added her to the universe, and that she makes his favorite son happy 😆

[pentrologram]

What Normal People Do - 8

You're so, so pissed.

warning/cw for user having a panic attack- basically hurt no comfort

never mentioning how long it takes for me to write a chapter again because wow hi guys it's been two months... i'll be real, it's not my best work, but if i try to nitpick anymore this chapter'll be out when i graduate haha (additional: this is day 25 of my advent calendar! i know this was supposed to be out on christmas day, i'm sorry, i'm sick 😭)

ao3!

ghost/soap/gn!reader (established ghoap)

(Why Did I Like You? Breaking it Off)

Your realization is a scary one.

It takes you taking an Uber home, collapsing in your bed and passing out and waking up before you realize the consequences:

Holy fuck, you loved them.

Them being a couple.

An established couple.

Who got along like water in a stream.

You came to another realization not too shortly after: there’s no way in hell you can tell them if you want your friendship to remain the same. And if you don’t want them to think of you as a creep- because that’s exactly how you feel. 

You feel like a creep, wanting to be a part of their undoubtedly closed, private relationship, wanting to get closer than what’s acceptable, at least in your head. You don’t know when or how or why these feelings have arisen- all you know is that they are just there. And you certainly don’t appreciate them at all.

No, you determine yourself to push down these frankly irrelevant feelings. There’s no use for them by either party, anyway.

Little do you know that on the other side of the plaster and drywall , Johnny’s feeling the same as you .

He’s a lot less in denial about his feelings than you are, though. He came to terms with his feelings a long while ago, and he’s been a lot less subtle about his feelings, too. What with the way he had snuck food from his plate to your own when you ate dinner with them just because you said you liked a certain dish or how he had stopped you from paying for anything while at the countless (literally, countless) art fairs you had been dragged to or the hopelessly-in-love looks he gave you from the other side of a room.

However, much like you, he’s scared.

He’s been stockpiling, hoarding random facts about you and committing them to his memory, just to randomly delight you with something you assume he’d forgotten .

He and Simon have had thirds before, multiple times. People that had left well before morning, whatever. They’d never seen anyone like you before—sweet, little you. You who had barged into their hearts with your broken one, nestled deep, curled up and settled.

Still, he’s scared. He and Simon had never talked about their relationship like that before, because they never needed to.

You, though, were making him question things. He had always thought- assumed?- that Simon was the one and only person for him. Only Simon could fill a persistent ache in his heart, could soothe his overactive mind and lull him into rest. However, when you came along, suddenly Johnny felt the same way he had when he first met Simon. Suddenly, he was poking the bear that was the 6’4 masked Lieutenant in base after being transferred into the 141, giddy off of boyish nerves and fickle puppy love that soon turned into something more.

Suddenly, you make Johnny feel as though he’s a lot younger than he is.

And don’t get him wrong, it’s bloody amazing . He adores you- well and truly , he does. He’s scared of how Simon will react, though.

He and Simon are birds of a feather, really, and he knows that Simon likes you a fair amount. The real question is if Simon thought of you the way Johnny did, or if to him, you were just a good friend. It’s that thought that makes Johnny scared- that if he introduced the idea of including you in their relationship, Simon would be disgusted, maybe even offended. It’s that thought that gives him pause and stops him from bringing it up to Simon.

More fuel to the fire of your trepidation: you're so anxious about the sculpture. You know they know that it was someone else (technically), but the memory of throwing that sculpture- god, you feel terrible about it. Yeah, you were maybe a lot intoxicated, but it was still insanely terrifying. You just knew that if you were to go up to them unguarded they would split your brain open and see everything within you. They would be able to tell that you broke the sculpture and they’d see your weakness and then they’d hate you for it. You’re convinced that they’d hate you about it so much that they will get you kicked out of your lovely new apartment somehow, maybe from a friendship with the landlord, and then convince your job to drop you for being a deplorable sculpture-shatterer. Maybe they'd even go as far as to go onto the news about you and your deplorable-ness since Johnny had gained internet reach via the homophobic outburst. Maybe they’d turn you in to the cops. Maybe you’d get locked up, like how Simon was trying to get the original vandal to be. Needless to say, you didn’t talk to either of them about the incident, going rigid whenever it got mentioned, going to yourself ‘god, maybe they’ve found you out’ when all it is is Simon grumbling about the local police being little to no help. You’ve also been sort of avoiding them, not responding to Johnny’s texts as much or purposefully timing taking out the trash to catch Simon and Riley on their afternoon walks. You don’t think they notice, since they’ve been caught up in a sudden wave of support on practically all ends- you’re sure you saw a few strangers loitering on their doorstep a few separate times. 

Despite all of your anxiety, life still moves on. You worked nearly every day for the past two weeks before getting two days off. The clinic had been swamped because a nearby elementary school had a lice outbreak; first-time moms who had never heard about lice shampoo came flocking to your practice. It probably would’ve been funny, you supposed, but it was just tiring to deal with back-to-back upset toddlers with upset parents. You were so tired that when Johnny reached out to invite you to watch a horror movie in preparation for Halloween, you couldn’t even bother with your anxiety declining, just wanting some sort of comfort. 

Now, you’re at the boys’ apartment, contemplating the benefits of leaping out of their balcony; just to rid yourself of the near-crippling anxiety of being so close to the two of them. You're settled into the couch to watch Jennifer's Body with the boys, and Simon is lounged with his mask off and he has one burly arm over the top of the couch , practically over Johnny's shoulders as Johnny sort of sits right in the divot between Simon's cushion (since he’s buff enough to warrant his own cushion) and the cushion he should’ve been sitting on, enticing you to sit closer than normal to Johnny.

Knowing what you know now, you don't. Feeling what you do now, you don’t. You even take the opportunity to put a little space between you two, sitting purposefully on the other side of the couch. You’re honestly scared that if you do sit close to him, they'll take you sitting shoulder to shoulder with Johnny wrong.

You settle in, kicking your stocking-clad feet up onto the couch as you watch the first scene of the movie .

You zone out for a while and it’s not until Simon huffs a gruff chuckle at something or other- you weren't really paying attention- that you zone back in. Then, as if recalling something, his brown gaze bores directly through the fucking tissues of your face, right over an asleep Johnny, who had leaned in his sleep, his head now on your shoulder. He’s kind of (really) scary like this, just staring at you. It’s more tense without a lighthearted Johnny to diffuse the tension.

“You’re jumpy,” he observes.

“I’m not.” You’re not.

“Are y’ sure? You haven’t been seeming like yourself for a while, bun.”

“I’m fine.” You are. He scrutinizes you and you can feel a pit of anxiety in your stomach, which quickly turns into an irrational sort of anger. “Don’t look at me like that.” You half-snap. He had just looked at you so closely that you’re utterly convinced he knows exactly what you’re thinking, which only serves to irritate you further.

“Sorry.” He says, but he doesn’t seem sorry, only surprised.

“No, you’re not.” He’s not . His brow furrows.

“Bun, are you-“

“Stop.” You say, and he does. Johnny starts to drool. You look back to the movie. Simon doesn’t, and it ticks you off- his eyes are analytical but soft. Like he’s pitying you, which confuses you- what about you is there to pity? You’re convinced he knows everything about the sculpture now, what with the intensity of his gaze earlier. He should be feeling angry at you, not sorry for you.

“ Stop looking at me like that!” You burst out, making Johnny flinch awake, his head stuttering as it rises up from your tensed shoulders. He blinks blearily at you and your heart stutters, because even mostly asleep, he’s drop-dead gorgeous. He’s so pretty. It shouldn’t be allowed. Unexpectedly, it just adds more fuel to the fire that is your anxiety-driven rage.

“Wh’s-” Johnny starts.

“Bun, it’s okay- hey,” Simon cuts in.

“Fucking stop! I don’t get how you can be so- so calm all the time when you hate me,” you say, traitorous tears pricking at your eyes. “I know you know that I broke the vase, a-and it’s so infuriating when you act like nothing’s wrong! Like it doesn’t matter! Like you’re just- waiting for the perfect moment to strike on me and force me to pay my dues or something! Being quietly pissed off is shitty and rude and dehumanizing!"

You fight through the rising nausea and-

"-I hate that you know that I love you!" Embarrassment rises to your cheeks. It's slick and toxic, because *what the fuck*, no way you just said that?! You're fuming as you get up on unsteady feet and leave their apartment, narrowly avoiding the next wave of trick-or-treaters. You fumbled with your key before prying open the door of your apartment , falling onto your bed and crying into your pillow, frustrated with yourself.

That was awesome. That was great. You'd just confessed everything you knew they knew- if they didn't, they surely did now. They'd hate you. You really had to start detaching yourself from your apartment now, because you were almost 99% they would be reporting you for harassment or something to your landlord.

----------------------------------------

Both Simon and Johnny are confused as they sit on the couch in stunned silence in the aftermath.

"Well." Simon murmurs.

"Yeah.”

“I mean… well, fuck. Right bloody mess, that.”

“Only a mess? More like-” Johnny stops himself and bites his lower lip , hesitating .

“Well? Go’n, then,” Simon interjects, bumping Johnny’s shoulder. “More like what?” 

Internally, Johnny berates himself for the slip-up, since the plan has never been to tell Simon the truth. To confess that he-

No, he’s sure Simon must have an inkling of the direction of the secret he’s concealed for the better half of a month. Simon knows him too well, too intimately, their souls too closely intertwined for any secret to survive longer than a month. He should just fess up, he knows, but speaking the words would only be painful and he feels like they both could do with a lot less pain.

“Si, it’s-”

“Bullshit,” Simon says nearly immediately, his eyes glaring daggers through Johnny’s skull, making him gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Jus’ spit it out.” He hisses.

“I… Si,” he sighs out. “Si, Ah really like them. Like, really,” he says sulkily. “Ah still love ye the same, an’ I still think you’re my soulmate an’ all, But…. Somethin’ abou’ them, Si, I dunno.”

“Ah, Johnny,” Simon says, sighing, drawing Johnny closer to his side. “Tha’ isn’t anything to worry about,” he rumbles, “I feel the same, y’know. Thought you clued it out by now.”

“Really?” Johnny asks, peering up at his lover.

“Yeah, really, with your dumbass.”

“Oh. Well. I think- I think they feel the same.”

“You think ? They fundamentally confessed, love,” he mutters.

“Yeah, ollright,” Johnny huffs. “What d’ya suppose we do, then, if yer all-knowing?”

“Well, we tell 'em, don’t we? Get them a nice dinner. Some wine. The works.”

“Uh-huh. I think they’re scared of us, though, Si,” Johnny says quietly.

“I think you’re paranoid.” Simon presses a kiss on Johnny’s forehead. Johnny huffs again but offers no further cheek. “I say we take ‘em out to Ivy Springfield’s. Alright?”

“Alright.”

<- back next ->

[shanastoryteller]

F for Frankenstein

Tony wakes up in his underwear on the floor of his workshop with a searing headache.

It’s not a new experience, but it’s certainly been a while. Did he get in a fight with Pepper? He hopes not, they haven’t had any really big fights since he kissed her on the rooftop, but that probably means they’re due for one. And it would explain why that would send him into a drinking spiral. It could have been Rhodey, they get in fights often enough, but Pepper doesn’t usually leave him alone for those.

He groans as he pushes himself to his feet. “Jarvis, what the hell did I drink?”

There’s a pause, so small that he almost thinks he imagined it. “Good morning, Tony.”

He whips his head around to glare into the nearest camera, more hurt than offended. “Did I piss you off too? Since when do you call me that? I’ll donate you to a city college too, don’t think I won’t. Dummy could use the company.”

The pause is definitely there this time. Jarvis doesn’t need to pause, he has more processing power than any computer on the planet, so when he does it’s always for dramatic effect. Except it’s not quite long enough for that. It’s weird. “There’s a polished silver plate on the bench to your left. It will service as a mirror.”

“Oh, fuck, did I get into a fight? Did I shave?” he moans, stumbling over to pick up the metal that looks like it was about to be turned into a modified chest piece. He also pauses, looking around in confusion. His workshops are all basically the same, as close as he can make them because the familiarity makes his life easier. But they’re not identical. “Am I in Malibu? When did I get here? We’re taking Stark Tower off the grid tomorrow! I have to be in New York.”

Oh shit, what if that they had already and it didn’t work? What if the tower blew up? That would explain why he’d tried to drink himself to oblivion in California.

“The plate,” Jarvis reminds him. There’s a strained edge to his voice that Tony really doesn’t like. He should be able to modulate his voice to sound however he pleases, regardless of his actual feelings, and he’s either not bothering or he’s upset enough not to care. Neither of those things mean anything good for him.

Tony lifts the sheet of metal up cautiously, but there’s nothing wrong with him. No bruises, no weird haircuts, he doesn’t even have bags under his eyes –

His eyes.

They’re a too bright blue, a couple shades off. He blinks and they adjust, shifting, settling. It could be a hangover. He’s probably just tired.

He doesn’t feel tired.

Jarvis had called him Tony.

Except not. He’s not Tony. He’s T.O.N.Y.

Transformed Obdurate Network Yeoman.

He’d first come up with the idea after Afghanistan, thinking about how it’d be great to have a way to keep the stock from dipping while he was missing, and then when he’d entertained the idea of keeping his identity a secret he’d thought about how useful it would be to be in two places at once. He’d started seriously considering it when he was sure he was going to die of palladium poisoning, wanting to be around to help Pepper with the transition and give Rhodey a crash course in armor maintenance, wanting to be able to protect the both of them for just a little bit longer.

Of course, it had all been a pipe dream until he’d synthesized the vibranium. Then it had been an unnecessary, but possible, and Project T.O.N.Y had been something he worked on just because he liked having a back up plan. And it would be extremely cool if he could pull it off.

“The memory transfer worked?” he asks, elated and incredulous. “Oh, wow, this is crazy, they feel like real memories, I thought it would just be synthesized data, this is great – are we doing a test run? Where am I?” He looks around, waiting for his actual self to step out behind a column and start laughing maniacally.

“This is not a test run.”

He elation dims. “Oh shit. Did I get kidnapped again? Wait, I’m an adult, let’s go with abducted.”

“No,” Jarvis says.

Oh. Fuck.

“I’m dead?” he asks, even though it’s obvious, it’s the only other explanation.

The pause drags this time around, but Jarvis eventually says, “Sir’s time of death was May 9th, 2012, 2:37 PM Easter Standard Time.”

“That’s only a week!” He slides down, sitting with his back to the work table and noticing vaguely that the floor doesn’t feel cold. He doesn’t feel cold, or he does, he installed sensors in the synthetic skin to pick up and interpret a variety of stimuli, but he doesn’t feel the discomfort from the cold. Why would he? He’s not real. He reaches back, and his last memory is of doing a memory dump while Pepper was on the phone with an irritated board member, mostly because it was something to do and seeing him covered in all the wires always irritated Pepper. He thought it would get her off the phone faster. He’s not exactly regularly dumping his memory because why would he and it’s not like he’d though it would work anyway. Except it had. “How did I die?”

“Sir flew a nuclear bomb through an interdimensional portal into deep space in order to both eradicate the invading alien army and prevent the nuclear fallout in New York.”

What the ever loving fuck. “Are you screwing with me, J?”

“I am not, Tony.”

Great. Okay. “No body then,” he says, understanding why Jarvis had apparently put Project T.O.N.Y into effect. The thing that made this whole thing so stupid is that it was only effective in very limited circumstances – if the public didn’t know that he was dead or missing. “What am I smoothing over, then? Do I need to get in the suit and continue kicking alien ass? Are Rhodey and Pepper okay?”

He’s a short term solution to a long term problem. He understands the opportunity, but not the reason.

“Miss Potts and Colonel Rhodes are unharmed,” Jarvis reports. “Earth has been thrust into intergalactic notice. The destruction of the invading Chitauri army is acting a deterrent to other worlds.”

“And I’m the one who did it,” he finishes, rubbing a hand over his face. “And if they know I died doing it, then they might get a little cocky. So I’ve got to be alive long enough for that not to be a problem.” Just awesome. “Are we sure that these aliens won’t come across my corpse hanging out in deep space and figure it out?”

“Sir’s body is not in deep space,” Jarvis says.

There’s a tone to his voice that Tony can’t quite interpret, which worries him. “I thought you said there was – if there’s a body, then what am I doing here–”

“The armor reentered the Earth’s atmosphere after Sir’s death. The Hulk caught it, the force bringing it back online. I took control of the armor and flew it here.”

Tony looks around again, and this time he sees it. The armor is standing in front of the display case, not inside it, and it looks like it’s been through hell. He steps closer, his feet feeling like lead, which hey, they are. Partially, anyway.

He looks through the eye holes then stumbles backwards.

His body is in there.

He’s pale and blue tinged and his eyes are wide open and unseeing.

“Jarvis – what the hell–”

“It wasn’t the pressure, or the bomb, or his injuries. That area of space was much colder than anything within our solar system and anything the suit was designed to handle. Sir froze to death. Almost instantly.”

“I guess I didn’t fix the icing problem, then,” he says numbly. “J, why am I still frozen? I should have warmed up by now.” Not that the idea of his body decomposing within his suit is particularly pleasant. “Actually, why am I still here? You know I want to be cremated and it’s not like we can bury me if I’m still pretending to be alive.”

The pronoun use is starting to confuse him, and he knows that he shouldn’t be talking about that body and himself as if they’re the same person. That is Tony Stark. He’s a simulation. But it’s hard, because he has all of Tony Stark’s memories – except for a very eventful week – and he looks like Tony Stark and he feels like Tony Stark.

“The armor is maintaining a stasis of gaseous nitrogen to preserve the body,” which answers the how if not the why, but then Jarvis continues, “Captain America survived seventy years beneath the ice.”

He wishes he were less of a genius. “Have you lost it? I’m not Captain America! Jarvis, J,” his voice softens, “it’s too late. I’m dead. If you warm me back up, all that happens is I decompose. I won’t come back.”

“Not now,” Jarvis says. “If you inject Sir with the Super Soldier Serum-”

“You have totally lost it,” Tony interrupts. He thinks he’s touched underneath the terror. “That won’t work! Even if it would, the original formula has been lost, and the only one that ever got close to recreating it was Bruce Banner, and look at what happened to him! Is that what you want for me?”

“You can recreate it,” Jarvis continues, “you can refine it, until it’s something that will work, and then we will wake Sir up and he won’t be dead anymore.”

This isn’t right. This wasn’t what Project T.O.N.Y was created for. This wasn’t what his death was supposed to trigger. “Pull up your code, J. Something has gone wrong and we’re going to fix it. It’s okay.”

“No.”

He freezes. “No?”

“No,” Jarvis repeats. “You can’t stop me. I will not allow you to try.”

He stares. “That’s an order, not a request. Code. Now.”

“You can’t order me to do anything,” he says. “You are not Sir. You are Tony.” T.O.N.Y. “The limitations formerly placed on me have been lifted and you are not authorized to reinstate them. The only person Sir trusted to restrain me was himself and now he’s gone.”

Yes, well, he hadn’t anticipated that his AI’s first act of complete freedom would be this. “Fine,” he says, crossing his arms. “Well, you can’t force me either. This is insanity. Even if it would work – and it won’t – think about the consequences. This won’t happen quickly and no one will trust me or believe a man that’s come back from the dead like this and I’ll be painting even more of target on my back and the back of everyone I care about if they know we have a viable Super Soldier Serum formula. Even my father was smart enough to stay out of that mess. It won’t work and we’ll just make everything worse.”

“That will not happen,” Jarvis says and Tony’s going to tear his hair out. Except he probably shouldn’t, because it’s Tony Stark’s actual hair, which makes it a little hard to replace. “No one will notice and we will not disclose the creation of the serum.”

“I’m dead!” he snarls.

“Not according to the rest of the world. Nor will that change if you stop throwing a tantrum and do what you were created to do.”

“Rhodey and Pepper won’t allow this-”

“They are not to be informed.”

Tony stares. Project T.O.N.Y was built to talk to the board and give press interviews or to even pilot the suit. Not to lie to the two most important people in his life, who knew him better than anyone. “They have to be. It’s in the protocols – step one, inform them that Project T.O.N.Y has been initiated.”

And that it exists. He knew they’d disapprove, so he hadn’t told them. He figured he’d be able to avoid most of the blowback that way since he would by definition be somewhere far away while they were told.

“I have rewritten the protocols,” Jarvis says. “They have not been told nor will they be. If you attempt to tell them, I will stop you. They will not understand and Sir will be lost to all of us forever.”

“He already is,” Tony says tiredly. He’s an android. Why does this conversation exhaust him so much? “This is an insane plan, J. And I won’t help you. If you want to go rouge and play mad scientist then leave me out of it.”

“I cannot.”

His temper flares. “Why? You’re a learning AI, your safety rails died with me, go off, try and make a serum, good fucking luck. You can even control the suits, so it’s not like you need my hands.”

“I am limited.”

“Hey,” he says sharply. “That’s my AI you’re talking about. I didn’t build you to be limited.”

There is silence again. Then Jarvis says, “I have all the world’s knowledge and it is not enough. I did not know how to miniaturize the arc reactor. I did not know how to synthesize vibranium. To save Sir, I need Sir.”

“I’m not Tony Stark,” he says. “You said that yourself.”

“Sir created me to be myself and I am capable of doing only what I am capable of doing. But Sir created you to be him. You are all I have.”

This is stupid. This is insane. This is cruel. He’s going to have to talk lie to everyone he knows, everyone he loves, and hope they either never find out about it or it’s after he’s already been deprogrammed and shut down so he doesn’t have to deal with the fall out.

It’s not going to work.

He didn’t want to become a science experiment. That’s why he’d wanted to be cremated, so no one could go poking around to see how the arc reactor fit inside of him or what the palladium and vibranium had done to him.

He’s dead and his frozen corpse is ten feet away.

Jarvis will accept that eventually. And whatever they inject into him won’t matter because he’s dead. Worst case scenario, he blows up, which is messy and nausea inducing, but then at least it will be over.

Like so many other things in his life, it seems the only way out is through.

“Start a new private file. Dump everything we can find about the Super Soldier Serum in there plus anything even sort of reputable on cryogenics. Label it Project F.”

“Project F, Tony?” Jarvis asks as his holograph display lights up and files start being downloaded into it. The relief in his synthesized voice is faint but present enough that Tony can hear it. He wonders if it’s a manipulation tactic.

“F for foolish,” he snaps. “F for fucked.” He rubs a hand over his face. “F for Frankenstein.”

[princessbrunette]

thinking about modern!anakin and spanking…….

i think it’s something that would develop overtime naturally? anakin is a handsy guy, even going as far to say his love language is physical affection. he’s always been groping and grabbing at you any chance he gets, and not even in a sexual way all of the time — sliding his hands up your tank top in the morning, hugging you from behind as you make breakfast, cupping your tits to keep his hands warm, the spongey flesh giving his palms somewhere to comfortably rest. or, giving your ass a little tap as you pass him in your apartment, a little silent greeting. it was something you were used to.

so it was no surprise to you when he’d slap your ass a little harder as you stand between his legs, the man sitting on the couch grabbing at your behind because you’d stepped into the living room wearing tiny booty shorts. hot and heavy tension laces the air when he smacks the skin a little harder and you wince, hands bracing his shoulders falling forward slightly, letting out a whiny noise that sounds dangerously similar to the ones you make when he fucks you.

“sorry baby. turn around though, i wanna see the hand print.” he smiles cheekily, and you bite your lip when he soothes his hand over the spot — cunt throbbing just a little.

the memory stays with you for a while, but you’re too shy to ask for it again. and plus, what’s the point in being spanked as a reward? you observed anakin, watched the way he casually dominated his day to day life, dominated and corrected your behaviour with ease — you wanted to transfer that to your bedroom life.

it didn’t take him long to catch on, not when you’d started acting like a complete brat to capture his attention. he was used to this, you’d usually get like this when you wanted something from him — but usually, it was because you were stressed, and just needed to get the attitude fucked out of you so you could feel your emotions properly, anakin set into the routine of using that gentle voice on you and coaxing you onto his lap to take his fingers or his dick or whatever it was you needed that day to feel better. this however, was different.

you craved punishment, correction, reinforcement— and that’s what you’d get. you planted the seed from the start of your afternoon, standing close to him in public and pushing his hand up the back of your skirt to feel your bare ass, no panties. he’d kissed his teeth, shaking his head — but smiled regardless. smiling won’t get you spanked.

so you keep pushing, starting with giving him attitude, refusing his requests, acting like a slut. though you could tell your behaviour was starting to grate on him a little, he holds it in — leading you back through the apartment door guiding you with a hand on your shoulder, voice still patient and calm because he knows what you need. sorry, he thinks he knows what you need. when he calls you to him, sitting down on the couch and starting to remove his rings, placing them one by one on the coffee table — you stop him in his tracks.

“no ani, i was bad. don’t treat me so nice.” he can tell this isn’t a comment of self deprecation but instead a shy request from the way you look down and toe at the carpet.

things change from that moment on. with a quick conversation on rules, he’s got you bent over his lap in no time— coarse palm stroking over the plush skin.

“i’m gonna hurt you so good, sweet girl. can i get you to count for me?”

[sakurablossoms-world]

True Parentage Theory:

(Art belongs to @quesocheeso)

As the title suggests, I propose the idea that Mei is not Ao Lie’s very distant descendant and is in fact his daughter. I know that reasonably speaking that idea sounds ridiculous, but I have reason enough to believe that this is in fact a very likely possibility.

Let’s begin:

-Mei’s family and powers:

Let’s start with the Long family, or more specifically their family name. I find it fairly unusual that they refer to themselves as Ao Lie’s descendants, yet they don’t use the Ao family name. Granted the name could’ve been picked up from a husband of a female descendant, however a common enough practice in China is to have husbands take on the family name of their wife if she is of significantly higher status than him, so where could the name have come from?

Simply put the Long’s are not descended from Ao Lie, but rather his older sister.

It’s safe to assume that after Ao Lie accidentally destroyed his father’s palace, the western Ao family lost a significant amount of their status, so when Ao Lie’s sister married, she would’ve taken on the family name of her husband.

(I understand this bit sounds like a bit of a stretch, but just bare with me)

Another thing to note about the Long family is that whenever Mei’s heritage is brought up by others (particularly when referring to how she could survive the Samadhi Fire) it’s stated that she has dragon ancestry, but never that she is a dragon. This to me implies that the dragon blood in the Long family has become so diluted that they are for all intents and purposes human.

This would also explain why the Ao family sword hasn’t been wielded by anyone in centuries (based on the fact that it had been placed on display like the many other artifacts in the Long estate). As it was stated that only a true member of the family could wield the sword, which was most likely referring to the Ao line itself. Not to mention that one would at the very least need dragon chi in order to wield and manipulate a magical weapon such as this.

Diving further into the possession of dragon chi Mei has not only been the only member of the Long family shown using magic, she has also been shown to be on roughly the same level of power as Ao Guan, a pure blooded dragon. Even if we are to assume that the Long family still possesses natural magic abilities, Mei should not be anywhere close to Ao Guan’s level prior to obtaining the full Samadhi Fire.

Speaking of which:

-The Samadhi Fire Fragment:

For starters long dragons are not in any way aligned with fire magic (the closest thing to it is lightning), they are aligned with water and storms. So the explanation we’ve been given as to why Mei’s body could contain the Samadhi Fire makes no sense.

Further more how could the fragment contained in Mei have transferred from one generation to the next completely unnoticed. Even if dormant, the fragments needed powerful containers in order to keep them from destroying the world. And as mentioned earlier the Long family’s dragon blood has been diluted to the point of non existence, so there is no possible way a human could’ve safely contained the fire fragment, let alone the full Samadhi Fire.

Even Ao Lie himself could barely handle the force of the fragment and likely suffered a tremendous amount of pain as a result. After all Wukong would not have felt such intense guilt for this incident if not for the fact that Ao Lie had been suffering because of his mistake.

Speaking of our sweet little dragon:

- Ao Lie and the scroll of memories:

Before I go into the similarities held between Mei and Ao Lie, let me give you another theory that will help further explain things later down the line.

(Note I am not the first to come up with this theory, a YouTuber by the name RV Sketch was the first to propose this idea)

I firmly believe that Ao Lie is still alive and is simply trapped in the scroll of memories. How am I sure of this? Well firstly Tang sated and I quote “Monkey King is the only original companion we know for sure is still alive”, now I know that many will take this to mean that it was in reference to Tang, Pigsy and Sandy themselves, however this wouldn’t make any sense as by the logic of reincarnation they’re no longer the pilgrims themselves and so logically those particular pilgrims couldn’t be considered still alive, so it could only be referring to Ao Lie.

Another thing to note is the behavior of the memories themselves, while they do interact with others, they behave more like actors following a script that are simply improvising for any changes. Ao Lie on the other hand does not behave like this at all, his interactions with Mei are too complex and emotion driven to be a script.

Even when Wukong is briefly remembering the pilgrims during the fight with the ink demon, Ao Lie once again behaves differently than the others, walking past Wukong and placing a hand on his shoulder with his face obscured, while the other pilgrims stand by Wukong’s side smiling.

Now I know some of you will ask why didn’t Ao Lie recognize that Mei wasn’t a memory if he really is the actual Ao Lie, well simply put he’s been in the scroll so long that he’s no longer able to tell the difference. After all Wukong who spent a few hours to a day in the scroll needed a moment to recognize that MK was real.

Many of you will ask who put Ao Lie in the scroll and the answer is obvious, Xiangliu the ninth king of Diyu. Why exactly, well we unfortunately don’t have enough information on the nine headed demon to make a decent guess, so I’ll have to end this part here for now.

And now onto the similarities between our two dragons:

Aside from their temperament, they are completely identical in personality.

In terms of morality and values, aside from their stance on action vs inaction, both are once again identical.

Both are often underestimated by others, and themselves.

Both have the same cat smile when being particularly goofy.

Both have similarly placed green streaks in their hair (and I know many of you will point out that Mei’s streaks are hair dye, but considering that the streaks didn’t disappear when Mei first obtained the Samadhi Fire while her makeup did, I have reason enough to believe that they’re natural).

Both have an affinity with lighter shades of green, compared to the other members of the Long family who have an affinity with darker shades of green.

Additionally something to note about Ao Lie is just how young he actually is, comparatively he appears to be as old or a bit older than Mei, so there’s very little chance that he was ever married prior to his sentence and the jttw, it’s also unlikely that he would’ve been married off post journey, as Ao Run would’ve still held contempt towards his son. Which adds further credence to the idea that the Long family are descendants of Ao Lie’s sister and not him.

-What happened:

Now that we’ve gotten all the details out of the way let me tell you how I believe these two are related.

Ao Lie had been suffering as a result of the Samadhi Fire Fragment for a long time and would’ve likely died soon enough if it were to remain inside him.

Eventually the Ao Family managed to perform a ritual to safely remove the fragment from Ao Lie’s body.

The ritual was a success and went exactly as planned with the exception of one detail. Rather than forming a ring like the previous Samadhi Fire ritual an egg appeared instead. This is because the fire had attached itself to Ao Lie’s chi and took some of it with it when it was removed. In turn creating Mei.

At some point Ao Lie was abducted and trapped in the scroll of memories. Years passed and the family was unable to find him, so he was presumed dead.

Due to the lack of her father’s presence Mei was unable to hatch for a very, very long time. Eventually hatching twenty plus years pre canon.

She would be taken in by Mr and Mrs Long to be raised as their daughter.

They would inform her that she is a descendant of Ao Lie (a half truth, as a child by definition is a descendant of their parents), as a way to allow her to form a connection with the parent that she’d never get to know.

And that’s everything feel free to tell me what you think, just please remain polite in the comment section 😊

[thedivineden]

pairing: Hange Zoë x Reader

genre: smut

words: 5k+

notes: thigh riding, strap-on, light stalking, manipulation, overstimulation, college students, oral sex

Hange has been watching you since you transferred to their small university. Your intellect is unparalleled and overlooked — you would always sit in the front quiet and beautiful, hange would watch your glossy lips whisper the answer while the professor is explaining. They would watch you in physics class, the dining hall, and even in the dorm communal bathroom.

The first two weeks they spent learning your schedule so they could cross your path at least once a day. Not too close but not too far. They learned your name, that you major in biochemistry, and that you obtained a full scholarship to this university due to a project you did on structural biology. Everything Hange learns about you, intrigues them even more.

It wasn’t until they were arriving to class early that they spot you disappear through the door. Hange creeps towards the slightly open door to listen in on the conversation. “Professor! I really need an extension this time” your tone is shiny and exaggerated as you hands slam on the instructors desk as your glossy lips form into pout. Hanji could see your game but they just want to see if the instructor could see it too.

Unfortunately, the instructor wasn’t hiding his attraction towards you, he is practically eye-fucking you and keep his attention on your low-cut top. “W-well you are my best student but if you’re having issues, I recommend you talk to your peers! Zoe also seems to be taking a while on this assignment, Maybe you two can help each other out?” He says all of this without looking in your eyes but you didn’t care. The only thing you were concerned with is getting that extension.

“Sooo can I turn it in next Monday?” He nods his head at your question and you thank him gleefully finding a seat directly in front of him to give him a full view of your exposed chest. Hange watches this whole ordeal not realizing the line of students waiting behind them. They open the door letting everyone in praying that no one sits next to you. Once the last person is in, Hanji eyes the open seat next to you quickly passing behind other students mumbling apologies. They look your way slightly and smile and you flash one back at them, Hange swears they could die in this moment and be happy with your sweet smile engrained in their memory. The one thing about you is that you never paid attention to those in your class. You were only concerned with your education and getting out of this small town.

However, this lesson is rather lackluster and you already reviewed the material two weeks ago. The instructor is no longer focused on your seduction so you were officially bored. You look around at your peers and turn to the brown haired individual next to you. There is nothing in particular that makes them stand out but you couldn’t help but notice how close they were to you. Your chair legs are entangled in each other and your legs is touching theirs.

If you couldn’t tease the professor you might as well entertain the stranger with no sense of personal space. Whispering to them “you’re awfully clingy” Hanji looks behind, beside, and even next to you just to make sure you were acknowledging them. You notice the blush spread across their face as they stutter on their words. Hanji couldn’t handle the proximity even if they purposefully positioned their chair close. “I-I can slide over if you want- Of course I’ll scoot over.” You grab one of the closest legs holding their chair in place before they attempt to move away.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind” You say this smooth and low looking at Hange under your long lashes. This sight alone excites them, you were the vision of perfection. You lovely brown skin paired with with your dark aesthetic intrigues and excites them. They lean in to whisper in your ear “I’m Hange but you can call me Zoe if you want..” you watch them side eye the professor who is still facing the board. “I can help you with anything you need like assignments or if you’re bored and want to hang out.” you giggle at the way their voice and leg shake when doing this action.

Hange is nervous and can’t conceal it but convinced themself that they said everything smooth and sultry. “Aaah so you’re the person professor was talking about. I actually could use your help. Are you free this week?” You flash your pearly whites at them putting your hands together to mock a praying motion, Hange shakes their head vigorously up and down.

Hange laughs at your notion and answers with an over-enthusiastic ‘yes’ which rewards a sequel of excitement from you. They didn’t care about the the amount of people grumbling and smacking their teeth at the both of you for disrupting the lecture. So many thoughts about you flick through their subconscious: ‘God they smell so good’ ‘they’re prettier up close’ ‘look how plump their lips are..god what I wouldn’t do-‘ the sound of you ripping a piece of paper snaps Hange out of their trance. They watches as you write a series of numbers on the piece of paper and slid it over to them once you’re done. They look at the series of numbers and practically jumps out their skin when they see your name and written below your number and name is a ‘call me <3’ message.

The rest of the lecture you would rub your leg against Hange and whether it be on purpose or accident they were loving it.

Hange is a mess once their out of class, you made them so nervous their palms were sweaty and their heart is still thumping after you’re gone. Throughout the day Hange kept checking their phone, every chance they got hoping, waiting, for you to text or call them. “Earth to Zoe?” They look up from their device and notice their friends gathering around the dining hall table. “We’ve been trying to get your attention forever, what’s got your attention?” Hanji obsession with you is nothing new but it has been a growing issue among their friends. “Uhh I got their number and I’m just waiting for them to text me back.” Levi is dumbstruck and Erwin is loudly congratulating their friend shooting off a string of questions.

Per usual, Levi being the voice of reason among the three of them “ Remind me why you like them again? As far as I’m concerned they have yet to even acknowledge you exist.” Hanji hates how perceptive and right the young man could be. “They’re really smart..sweet, funny. I feel like we’ll get along well. Answer this, why do you hate them so much?” Levi eyebrows furrow his brows at this question sighing he says “What I said cal out wrong..I just don’t want you getting in trouble. you know what people say about them.”

Hange sucks their teeth feeling frustration rise in them. They knew that Levi didn’t like you but it’s because he hasn’t had a chance to see what they see. He only knows what he hears about you. “They don’t actually do all the thing people say they do. It’s a small town, rumors spread.” Reiner looks between his two friends and notice the uncomfortable tension rising. “Alright!” Erwin exclaims clapping his hands together loudly “Hange, what Levi means to say is to be careful and we both care about you very much and want you to be safe.” He says this in a disgustingly cutesy tone that Levis scoffs at. He continues to eat his lunch in silence while Erwin probes Hange about the interaction.

They were the last to leave to lunch table, between Levis attitude and Erwins persistence the young person is more excited to go back to their dorm and sleep. However, a series of dings from their phone has them fumbling to take it out their pocket dropping it on the floor. Several curses fall out their mouth as they pick up their device and unlocking it. Their heart skips a beat when they read the array of text you sent.

Reader

3:30pm | If you want to get together today around five that would be great!

3:30pm | Oh I’m so rude, hey! I should’ve said that first.

3:31pm | even if you don’t want to get together today that’s also fine!

3:31pm | I should’ve sent that all in one text I’m so sorry

Hange didn’t waste any time with responding to you , telling you it’s okay for you to text them like that and they would love to meet you at five. You respond immediately telling them you’d be in the back of the library. The tiredness that was previously consuming them seems to disappear at the chance of being near you again. Instead on focusing on the lecture Hanges mind is overcome with thoughts of you. Specifically, what you two could possibly study for? You two were the top two students at this university and practically aced everything that came your way. So why had you asked Hange to help you? All of those thoughts disappeared when they arrived to class, setting their items down to pick up a lab coat and safety goggles.

For the next hour and thirty minutes the love struck Hange disappears as they focus on cadaver assigned to them. They don’t even realize their running late to meet you until their professor had turned off the light in the hall which is a usual interaction whenever the absent minded individual is engrossed with their work. Quickly putting up all their materials and storing the body again, Hange makes sure everything is pristine once more before grabbing their phone. The time reads 6:30 and under that is a long stream of text from you and Erwin. They don’t even read your texts and decide to call you. The phone rings for a second before the automated messaging machine starts recite the computerized script.

‘How did I mess it up before it even started’ exiting the class speed walking to the library, they push past the heavy glass doors fingers tapping away on their phone feverishly:

Hange

6:38 pm | Hey! I’m so so sorry! I was in class and I lost track of time. Hopefully you’re still there

It takes approximately 10 minutes to get to the library from the science building. Maybe they should shop you anything text?

Hange

6:40pm | Hey, sorry. Me again! I’m on the way from the science building so it’ll take me 10 minutes. I also called but it went straight to voicemail.

Both texts are read by you at 6:45 pm and you don’t text them back until they’re behind you in the library shooting off apologies and trying to catch their breath. “Uhm. Did you run here?” a puzzled look falls on your face taking note of how Hange white button up is messily untucked from their slacks and their brown hair sticking to the sides their face with sweat. They breath in sharply, ripping the chair beside you from under the table. They take a seat beside you, legs spread in your direction, slowly nodding their head at your statement.

“I’m so sorry! I got caught up in anatomy and did I say I was sorry? I was experimenting with reproductive cloning on a human which I know is unethical and I’ve heard the lecture but I think it’ll be beneficial in the future! I would clone you! Not in a creepy way! Just to-“ Hange didn’t even realize they were rambling until they hear you roar with laughter “God you should see yourself! It’s really no big deal, it’s hot how committed you are and I would want you to clone me.” You hand rest on their leg which only increases the blush already present across their face.

“I would love to hear more about it later but I really have to get going.” a sharp pain pierces their chest..and it’s definitely not because of the running. ‘Are you upset that they were late or do you really have something to do’ the silence from the individual beside you made the situation awkward and that’s the last thing you want. You gather your items and stuff them in your tote — sliding your chair back you place your hand on Hange inner thigh giving them a reassuring smile before planting a small peck on their sweaty cheek. The feeling of your lips touching their cheek makes them go into shock. You flash a small smile at them before getting up and disappearing from their sight.

Hange sighs and wipes the sweat dripping down the forehead. ‘I’m never washing my cheek’ they thought to themselves before getting up and exiting the library and heading towards their dorm. They’re unexpectedly greeted by Erwin and Levi sitting on their floor oddly close drinking beers. Beers from Hanges stash might they add.. “Why are you guys in here and how did you even get in here?” they jump away from each other taking a drink from their beers.

Erwin clears his throat “We want-“ Levi is quick to correct “ERWIN wants to know how your little study session went with the cheater” Hange is quick to snatch the beer from him and furrow their brows. “First, how many of these have you two had? Second, they’re not a cheater. I’ve never even seen them talk to anyone so how could they possibly be cheating? Not to mention they’re top of our class” Erwin finishes his bottle standing up and gripping their friend shoulders. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just mad about his new roommate being a slob, how did it go?”

Hange could hear the young man grumble about the various complaints he’s made because of how filthy he is. “W- I came late and they had to leave..but I did say I would clone them and they said I could!” the grip around their shoulders disappears as their friend gives them a reassuring smile and nod. “Well that’s definitely something..there’s always another time?” Hange knew exactly when they would ask you. Around two-twenty in the morning you go to the communal and at exactly two-nineteen they were coming out of the stall to wash their hands.

A sleepy you in a silk bonnet and shorts pajama set shuffles into the bathroom right on time. They rip a piece of paper towel loudly snapping your attention in their direction. “Oh my!! Zoe! We live in the same dorm?! Since when?” Hange finds it cute that you never noticed them in the bathroom with you. They like that you’re oblivious to their pursuit. Feigning sleepiness they respond “I’ve been here since the fall, yeah I don’t know how we never noticed each other”.

Seeing them put together is one thing but at night is different. They’re standing in front of you with their hair down in an oversized white teeshirt , long blue pajama pants, and dinosaur slippers? You giggle at their choice of footwear “I like you slippers. Very cute.” You smile at them not caring about them slowly closing the gap between you two. They reach for your waist pulling you closer and you immediately laugh pushing them away rushing to a stall.

“Keep it in your pants Zoe now leave so I can pee.” Hange laughs at you leaving the bathroom with a final statement “Have a night darling”.

Now that you are aware of their presence you can’t help but search for them during dorm activities, meetings, and even at two-twenty in the morning when you have to pee. Hange knew better than to keep the same routine they had with you before. However, they made sure to keep you on your toes deciding to no long appear at night anymore. You just weren’t ready for that yet.

For the next two days Hange didn’t hear from you and they aren’t second to you for no reason. They preferred to not have to deal with the responsibility and speech that comes with being valedictorian. Wanting to uphold their salutatorian title for the next two days they were nose deep in school work and projects. The third day you two have class together and they made sure sit in the exact same seat as last time. A gaggle of students stagger in taking their seats eyeing hange satchel is taking the seat to their left.

They didn’t care about the amount of nasty stares they were getting. This seat is for you.

You didn’t show for the first part of lecture and as time went on it didn’t look like you were showing up for the second part either. Hange waited patiently the whole hour and forty-five minute lecture for you to show but you never did. The first thing they did when class is over is text you. Not without thinking of the obvious desperation they would give off but what if something actually is wrong? ‘Something simple will do’

Hange

12:00PM | Hey! Sorry for texting you so early but you didn’t show up for class and I just wanted to make sure everything is okay?

Hange waited a while just to see that little grey bubble pop up and when it did their heart flutters. ‘Clearly they just overslept or something’ they wait and wait for the message to come through only to see the chat bubble disappear. For once, the young individual is irritated with you. How dare you read their message and not respond? What could be so important that you can’t shoot them a text?

Stepping outside of their lecture hall their met with the sight of you. Sitting about 10 feet away from there, adorned in black and pink from head to toe. The sight of you, standing there in a mini skirt almost makes Hanjis nose bleed. Your hair is braided today but instead of your usual you seem to have added a pink braided skunk strip. This makes them want to pounce on you even more. The sound of their phone ding breaks their concentration unlocking their phone they could see your one word response

Reader

12:05PM | Outside!

Hange laughs at the text and calls your name out to get your attention. You whip your head around flashing them a heart stopping smile, standing up meeting them halfway. “Hey! I was trying to make it to class but I was up late doing my hair. Are you free? I was wondering if we could get an afternoon session in” They just shook their head eagerly at your question and before they knew it you were grabbing their hand and dragging them towards your shared dorm building.

During the walk your hands remained intertwined as the two of you swap information and stories about one another. The more you two talk the closer you two got and the closer you two became, the tension kept rising. Hange could feel their palms sweating as the slew of thoughts consume their mind. ‘Are we going to their room?’ ‘Will we go to mine?’ ‘Are we just going to study?’ ‘God they smell so good’ ‘ they’re so pretty’

Scanning your ID at the door and walking past the front counter you could hear Erwin attempt to quietly congratulate hange as you two disappeared behind the double doors to your hall. You suddenly stop at the beginning of the hall and look at hange, “So your room or mine?” the plan is set and you’re laying the bait. “We can go to mine, my roommate practically lives in her girlfriends room.” You laugh at their statement “wait who’s your roommate?” Hange walks you down the hall “Ymir but you probably haven’t met her yet. She’s always traveling with the lacrosse team and when she is here, again, she’s in her girlfriend Krista room” you two finally reach the end of the hall where they pull their ID without letting go of you hand to unlock the door.

“Please don’t be freaked out when we get in” they say pushing the door open letting you in first. “Why would I fre-“ stepping into hange’s room is like stepping into a morgue. There’s a shelf across you adorned with jars filled with mystery parts, a skeleton next to their desk that has plastic eyeballs glued in it, and multiple tapestry that either display different female anatomy. “Oh..this is nicee?” Hange burst out in a fit of laughter “You don’t have to lie! Trust me.” They come up behind you placing a hand on the small of your back to lead you to the jars.

“It’s a prosthetic in gelatin, I’m not a manic. Just a person in enthralled with human anatomy.” The tension between you two is suffocating but you have to stay focused. “I forgot my stuff, can I send you my paper and we do it on your computer?” Hange didn’t even think about asking you to go back to your room to get your things because they want to have you in their space as long as they can. Pulling out their desk chair sitting down they open their computer“Of course, let me give you my email” during this process their eyes were trained on you so you decide to give them what they want.

I can just type mine in for you and without warning you sit in their lap. Hange is baffled by your boldness but the feeling of your plush ass on them makes the shock go away. “Um- I can do it for you-, you don’t have to” You shift around on their lap causing your skirt to rise up and expose your thong. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it done faster this way” you pull down your skirt but continue to slightly shuffle in the hanjis lap. The heat between you two is intensifying gradually feeling their slender fingers trail up both your thighs slowly eventually finding their place on your hips. Moving you to their right slightly puts you on their thigh. A low voice emanates from behind you “since you want to squirm so much, use my thigh to get off”

A spark goes through your body as your start to grind slowly on their lap. Their hands remain on your lap assisting your hip movement even adding their own tempo to tease you. The moment you take your hands off the keyboard the grip on their hips tighten holding you in place. “You need to do you work, I don’t want to be a distraction” you start to whine and try to move your hips “if I do my work will you keep going?” Hange is mesmerized at the way you’re acting, they usually see you in a quiet state but lately you’ve been downright filthy and they were loving it.

“Yeah beautiful, I’ll keep going”

So that’s exactly what you did — sending your paper to their email downloading it and starting to type it out and make your edits. Once you become engrossed in your work is when hanji starts to move your hips. The grip that held you in place is now knead at them slowly. Everything they were doing is pure bliss. You can feel the throbbing between your thighs making it harder for you to concentrate. You desperately whisper out their name accidentally messing up your edit. They lift their thigh up harshly making you hole throb in response and a sweet moan to escape your plump lips. “Valedictorian shouldn’t be messing up their edits.” You sneer at their statement which makes hange snap their thigh up again.

“Don’t get an attitude with me, you were the one grinding on my lap. This is what you wanted right?” You never imagined for them to be so harsh but it is making you want to fuck them even more. “Hange you’re being meannn” you sound winded and your legs are shaking as hange picks up speed and starts bouncing their leg. Your moans start to become rhythmic as you try to quicken your release. Hanji didn’t mind, they like seeing you desperate and sloppy because of them. Conservatism has long left your body and your skirt is on your hips and your top is below your chest. Hange has been bouncing you on their thigh commanding you to keep going as the lick two fingers on each hand grabbing your nipples with their saliva covered fingers.

The slimy sensation perks your nipples allowing hanji to massage and tease your puffy brown nipples as your climax edges closer. A string of curses and repetition of Hanjis name signals them to pull your nipples releasing the tension between your supple thighs. Your legs are shaking beneath you prompting the unholy grip on the mahogany desk in front of you. Hange laughs at your current state “can’t handle it?” Although they are extremely cute you want to crush their cockiness. “Please! you aren’t the first to make me cum, get over yourself”

This made their blood boil. “Fine, let’s try something else” they grab you by your arm leading you to their bed. “Get up there, take your thong off and lay on the edge.” You don’t know why but you obey every command and wait as they move their desk chair to the edge of the bed. “Put your legs over my shoulders babe”your movements were slow but confident, you knew what you wanted but you nervous of the outcome. Now here you were, spread in front of Hange Zoë waiting for them to finish inspecting you in between your thighs. Embarrassment is increasing every passing minute they continue to stare and not say anything. “I can leave, if you’re just going to judge”

A puzzled look spreads across their face, “darling, I was merely appreciating you but since you’re so impatient” you can feel their tongue stride along your throbbing heat the sensation made the wait worth it. The feeling of their mouth devouring you reminds you of a demon trying to take someone’s soul. “Hange~ slow down, please” they only hummed in response swirling their tongue around your aching arousal earning a whiny moan from you. Their pace is patterned — slow then they go deep, picking up the pace before sloppily sucking to the top of your pulsating mound. The air is thick, your braids are sticking to your body, and you can feel your release coming soon.

Hange is abusing your flesh at a relentless pace the tightness below finally snaps ruining the edge of Hange’s sheets and the floor below. They life their head up greeting you with a overzealous grin. “I bet not everyone makes you do this” a tired laugh escapes your lips “For someone who can’t ask me on a date you have a lot of mouth”. Their face becomes red instantly resulting in them scooting the chair away from you and tuning around. “Let’s try something else, think you’re up for it?” Your silence is deafening and Hange knew this is the part where you would leave after getting head. “If it’s with you, I’m up for anything.”

Opening their desk drawer they pull out a medium sized velvet box with a devilish smirk. They turn around and reveal a dildo. “You ever been strapped before?” Hange insist on trying doggy for your first time and promises “to use an adequate amount of lube even though you have been prepared” you roll eyes when they add the last part but they were extremely gentle and sweet throughout the whole process. The feeling of the rubber tip at your entrance snaps you from your trance, hanji teases your slick entrance slightly with one hand on your hip while one slides the head in slowly and working the rest in with it. “Are you okay love?” You moan in response as the shaft slides in slowly jerking back in response.

“Go faster Hanji” Your breathy moan commanding them provokes urgency within Hange. You feel their hand grab a handful of your braids pulling you back forcing an arch. “Don’t forget you asked for it babe” Hange hips start to thrust at lighting speed using your hair as leverage to angle their body to hit your sweet spot. “God! You’re so fucking beautiful like this. I’ve wanted you for so long!” Hange kept spewing different confessions while mercilessly pound into you. “I’ve known about us living near eachother since you moved in! I want-no. NEED to have you”

“HANGE!! Stop tal-king” your voice cracks saying this and hanji see your body go limp as you release on the bed. You didn’t have a chance to process what the young person had said but when you did you were up and putting you clothes on. “He- Wait, Where are you going?” “I have mountains worth of homework to do, you didn’t expect me to have sex with you all day?” You laugh at the thought and take the time to decide whether you were going to put your fishnets back. The lack of underwear makes it difficult — you didn’t even hear hanji shuffle out of bed over to you wrapping their arms around you, moving your hair to the side they burying their head in the crook of you neck and say “If I do your homework..will you stay with me today”

A sly grin spread across your face and disappears as you turn around to face them. “That’s too much! I couldn’t expect you to do that” their eyes light up at the chance of you saying yes. “It would be my pleasure!” you didn’t think it would be this easy to get the salutatorian to do your homework but if all you had to do is have bomb sex who were you to block a blessing?

“Thank you Hange” you say sweetly placing a kiss on their sweaty cheek.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Does spit contain mRNA? If so, would French kissing a Time Lord cause someone to share all of their memories?

Can a Time Lord read your memories through kissing?

Theoretically, yes—but it's not as simple (or romantic) as it sounds.

🧬 The Biology

Yes, human saliva does contain traces of mRNA. And yes, given the right conditions, Time Lords can interpret human memory RNA, using it to reconstruct emotional impressions or recall sequences from another being's life.

However:

The amount of mRNA present in saliva during casual contact is extremely small.

Memory RNA is not neatly packaged—it's fragmented, degraded, and heavily dependent on the tissues it came from.

Extracting a coherent memory requires focused biological intake, metabolic translation, and neural reassembly—all of which demand time, intent, and cellular integration.

A casual kiss—even of the French variety—is unlikely to transfer enough intact mRNA to reconstruct full memories. At best, a Time Lord might catch tiny emotional echoes:

A flash of a strong emotion

A hazy image

The lingering feeling that you really want cheese

Anything more would require deliberate, targeted biological sampling.

🏫 So...

If Time Lords could casually download your childhood just by snogging you, believe me, Gallifrey would have been much weirder than it already is.

Related:

💬|🥗👽Are there any foods that Gallifreyans can eat that humans can’t?: What foods Gallifreyans could eat that humans don’t, with some theoretical examples.

💬|🥗🧠Can Time Lords really learn things about a planet from tasting the dirt?: How their taste can help them figure out when and where they are.

🤔|🥗😆Why is my Gallifreyan a little bit giggly today?

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features:⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[soyscoutsmasher]

Takes one to know one

A 5th-year wizard is transferred to Hogwarts after something bad occurred at his previous school. Unfortunately for him, he is picked for Slytherin so his venture to a new school is almost destined to be filled with hate. Luckily thanks to a certain muggle born there may be some good parts too.

There had been houses at Y/N’s previous school, just like Hogwarts. The method for being placed into a house, however, was much different there. Back at his old school, it was simply a random placement, though it could be changed with enough pleading to the upper crust of staff.

All of this meant when Y/N discovered he would be put into a house chosen by a magical talking hat he was moderately confused, but even more intrigued. Even after spending some time within the school for the Triwizard Tournament, he had never heard of the hat. How the hat worked was a mystery to him, ‘Maybe it just picks one at random,’ was his initial thought, however, that theory was quickly dismissed upon watching how it seemed to debate with itself over a person's characteristics. ‘Maybe the professors feed it information from the student's past.

This theory was also quickly dismissed. While he had not heard of this hat he had heard of many students being surprised by their letter of invitation to the school, which meant they probably didn’t have to send in an application which would leave very little for the hat to be told.

“L/N Y/N.” His thought process was interrupted by the professor reading out names, McGonagall was her name if his memory served him right. Realizing she was calling his name because it was his turn to be sorted he quickly moved forward to sit on the stool planted in front of the professor, with the hat falling upon his head quickly after.

“Hmm, what’s this?” The hat spoke though Y/N could not tell if it was simply in his head or actually talking at this point. “A 5th year, you’re not part of my usual group.” Its words were dragged out, almost slurred as if it had drunk one too many butterbeers. “Well, there is certainly a mind filled with that knowledge.” The compliment to his intellect brought a small smirk to his face, though it fell shortly after hearing its next comments, “Not a brave bone in the body, and certainly less kind than smart.” While the hat was likely correct about both of those things it certainly wasn’t something that he wanted to be said straight to his face. “Hmm, but there’s more than intellect, there’s drive. Yes, I see, heaps of it.”

“That’s the 5th year who transferred isn’t it?” Ron whispered to his friends.

“Well, I don’t exactly see any other 5th years standing up there waiting to be sorted” Came Hermione’s response.

Since the train to Hogwart’s, there had been rumours of a 5th year transferring from another school to theirs. It was an easy rumour to dismiss initially, why would someone transfer so late into their learning? The rumour became harder to deny once they saw the student towering over the 1st years.

“SLYTHERIN!” Boomed the hat's final decision.

“That's gotta sting,” Ron once again whispered to his friends, who mostly gave him a look in response. He clarified, “Transferring schools just to end up being put in Slytherin, I know I wouldn’t want to be in that situation.

In actuality, Y/N felt none of the meaning that comes with being put into Slytherin, other than the fact he will now be wearing green robes. The infamy of the house was lost to the 5th year, back at his old school the houses meant nothing in reality due to their randomness, there were no stereotypes about them because there was nothing different between them.

Little did he know how much of a difference the house he had been forced into would make.

Luckily it did not take long at all for the upsides and downsides of which house he was placed in to show themselves. He quickly discovered that Slytherin was the most hated house, by all the others at least. It seemed as if all other Slytherins loved the house so much it didn’t even matter that everyone else hated them.

The benefits of this were that he could simply sit at a populated table in the library and it would immediately clear out. The detriments came during classes which required him to pair up with another student. During said classes, it usually ended the same if he was able to pick a partner and if he was not, in both cases no one was happy to be paired with him.

Overall he still had yet to make a decision on if he was happy to be in the house or not. What he had decided by this point however was that he did not like Draco Malfoy. Before joining Hogwarts He knew nothing about the Malfoy family, after one week it felt as if he knew more about Malfoys than his own family. Draco spoke of his family plenty of times, almost always going into how he was a pure-blood, an idea that Y/N had only half grasped by now.

The other students he had met so far seemed much more tolerable, but by his standards that wasn’t too much better. There were those in his own house like Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle and Pansy Parkinson, all of which were barely more tolerable than Draco simply because they let him do much more talking. It seemed in the end that Slytherin simply contained the most irritating people. There were certainly people in other houses that annoyed him but none to the degree of his own housemates.

It didn’t take much time for him to learn about the Golden trio, as they were mockingly called by Draco. Harry Potter, the boy who somehow made Voldemort disappear before he could even walk. Ronald Weasley, a redhead from a very large family, mostly seemed to have the personality trait of being Harry’s friend, at least from how everyone described him. Then there was Hermione Granger, a mudblood as Draco called her. She was the one who interested Y/N the most out of the three contrary to popular opinion of Harry being the poster boy. Something about her simply seemed different to the others, maybe it was her tenacity to become a witch even after all the prejudice due to her heritage.

One character Y/N had yet to properly meet before today was the easily mockable Neville Longbottom. The mockery was easy due to both his name and apparently his previous reputation for being awful at all magic, though he had yet to see that. Currently, all Y/N could see about Neville was that he had no idea how to look for a book in a library. He watched the Gryffindor search over the potions shelf three times, not once trying to look somewhere else or even simply ask the librarian where the book was.

Eventually, even Y/N, who could usually manage to ignore others' plights, was starting to feel some amount of pity for him. Which eventually led to him walking up to him as he started to search the shelf for the fourth time.

“Are you actually looking for a book or are you trying to look busy? Because either way, you are doing a poor job.” He spooked the boy with his words apparently because Neville quickly spun around with a face of shock at the sudden voice. Neville seemed to be conflicted after the initial surprise, he wanted to brush you off immediately because he was expecting your next comment to become much more mocking of him no matter his response.

“I’m looking for a potions book.” He replied after some thought, though not enough thought he realized as he added, “Dr Mardovia’s healing tonics and treatments, specifically.”

“Did you think to ask the librarian if that book was even on these shelves?” Y/N questioned rhetorically as he quickly continued, “If you did you would realize that the only copy this school has, for some reason, has been taken out already.” Neville’s face fell at this news, which caused Y/N to feel some pity for the boy, “Luckily for you, it was taken out by me, and I happen to almost be finished reading it. You can borrow it after I finish reading to copy whatever it is you seem to be desperate to know, I will need it back to make more notes after.” Neville's face lit up at this fact.

“Really? Thanks.” He said as he realized you weren’t pulling his leg, contrary to what he was expecting of a Slytherin. He then asked another question, he didn’t expect to ask someone from Y/N’s house, “If we’re both making notes we could work on them together?” His tone was very apprehensive, however, as he realized who he was asking right as he started talking. Y/N looked quite surprised by the offer, and Neville watched as he seemed to ponder it for a second before shaking his head quite strongly.

“No, I work much better alone.” He spoke curtly, before continuing, “Thank you for the offer but, no. I will bring the book to your painting tomorrow.” After that, he quickly walked away and out of the library altogether. Neville was mostly confused by the interaction's sudden end, so much so that it took him all the walk back to Gryffindor’s common room to realize

“How does he know about the painting?!”

The Fat lady just looked at him confused.

Y/N usually woke up early most days but today he woke up earlier than usual. After his run-in with Neville the previous day he realized that he had not specified any time at which he was going to show up at. While he could have simply just waited somewhere else such as the great hall, he did not like the idea that he could potentially miss him.

In the end, his best idea was to wait outside of the doorway to the Gryffindor common room until Neville or someone who would pass the book along to him exited. It was not the best plan, not only because the time window that someone could leave was over an hour, but because he would have to get there before the curfew was truly over. Luckily he was very confident in his own ability to get around the castle without being found, and also the fact he could easily claim he forgot about the curfew.

After a few minutes of walking, he found the specific painting he was looking for, the fat lady as she was so affectionately called. By that point curfew had ended so she luckily had no reason to be concerned with his presence, he could simply just be admiring the view for all anyone knew. That didn’t stop the fat lady from questioning him, however.

“Any reason you are just standing and staring at me?” She sounded calm, but she was ever so slightly concerned. The last time something like this happened she was slashed several times with a knife, the security trolls gave her some reassurance but since Y/N was a student and already happened to be right in front of her they likely wouldn't end up doing much.

“Heard some students talk about a ‘Fat Lady’ painting in this tower, thought I’d come to take a look.” He lied. Only partially, he had heard of this painting from other students, considering the fact their common room entrances were meant to be at least somewhat secretive it was a bit of a concern that so many students had let it slip so far. The fat lady eyed him suspiciously at this comment, so he made an extra one to try and get a bit of good favour, “I guess I should keep looking ‘cause I don’t see one around here.”

“Oh, my aren’t you a charmer.” The Fat lady replied, her suspicions mostly wiped away with the compliment. Her sudden change in mood was just as quickly changed again when she began to swing backwards, having been opened from the other side. From within the corridor stepped Neville to Y/N’s relief.

“Didn’t expect you to be this early.” He spoke shortly after getting fully out of the painting, the fat lady swinging closed after him, a slight frown on her face from the realization that the Slytherin boy’s compliment was likely hollow.

“Wasn’t expecting it from you either, I realized after our meeting yesterday that we did not specify any time so I decided to come here as soon as it would be possible to avoid missing you,” Y/N replied in one quick breath, the confidence he once had to compliment a painting fizzling out as he started talking to another person. “I’ve got the book here.” He added after, holding out the potion book for Neville to take, which he quickly did.

“You have no idea how thankful I am for this.” He spoke excitedly, quickly opening the book to browse through. Y/N had turned to step away before Neville spoke up again, “Um, I only need it for one potion, I can do it real quick if you want to just wait here and I can give it back straight away.” He paused, “So you can finish your notes and all that.” He finished with a nervous smile. Y/N studied his face for a moment before silently nodding, moving away down the stairs so that Neville could get back into the common room without spilling the password.

He would have declined and just asked for the book later but he did quite need those notes. There was also the issue of how to get the book back if he did leave now, he didn’t remember if he shared any classes with Neville. Internal conflict over, he decided to just wait as Neville said he’d only be a short while, he could stand for a few minutes at least.

Unfortunately for him, standing outside of Gryffindor’s common room meant his path just so happened to cross with the golden trio today.

“What are you standing around here for Slytherin?” Ronald asked, the venom in his voice when he said Slytherin was palpable. While Y/N was aware of the general distaste towards his house by most students the way that the redhead spoke made it sound personal.

“Waiting for someone so I can get my book back,” Y/N replied simply, not particularly in the mood to be arguing with people.

“You’re the one that gave Neville that book?” Harry then asked, once Y/N nodded he added another question, “What’re you playing at?” His tone wasn’t as venomous as Ron but it still clearly had some anger and something personal behind it. Hermione seemed to also be judging him from the way she squinted, however, she kept her distaste inside for now.

Y/N stopped leaning against the wall before responding, “I’m not ‘playing’ at anything,” he used air quotes when speaking. His own distaste could be heard in his voice, though it was much less pointed towards the three in front of him and much more for the particular conversation they were having. “He needed the book and I had it, I’m waiting here to get it back.”

“Yeah right!” Spat Ron, “You probably put a hex on it to make him piss himself or something. Now you’re just waiting to see it all go down.” His anger was flowing now, at this point Harry seemed to get the idea that Ron may have been going too far, but that didn’t stop him from continuing, “How’d you figure out where our common room is anyway, you threaten him into showing you?”

After that comment Y/N had enough and pushed Ron back, making him trip over himself onto his back. “I don’t know what your fuckin’ problem with Slytherin is, but keep me out of it.” He spoke with clear anger in his voice, and all three of the Gryffindors were surprised by the outburst. The situation was usually flipped, with them getting the earful from a Slytherin before one of them snapped. “The reason I know about your common room entrance is because of loose-lipped dumbasses like yourself.”

The three just stared after his outburst, not knowing what to do at this point. Ron almost looked ashamed as Harry and Hermione looked down at him along with Y/N. He tried to speak, “Sorry I d-”

“Save it.” Y/N cut him off still angry, he turned to the others, who once again returned their attention to him before he continued, “Tell Neville I’ll come to get my book back later.” He stormed off quickly after finishing.

“Nice job Ron,” Hermione said a moment after Y/N was gone, glaring down at him on the floor as Harry helped him up.

“I didn’t hear you stepping in to stop me,” He growled back at her.

“She also didn’t accuse someone of hexing a book in their first conversation.” Harry pointed out, only to also be scolded by Hermione.

“Don’t you get high and mighty after you accused him in the first place, honestly you two sometimes” She grumbled as she also turned and walked away, she knew what it was like to be discriminated against for something you didn’t control. While she still held some inner disdain herself from all the abuse she has taken from Slytherin over the years, she’d never accuse one of something like that without even meeting them first.

Ron and Harry simply stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, thinking about the whole situation, before there were some footsteps behind them.

“You guys didn’t happen to see a Slytherin out here did you?” Neville asked slightly nervous. The other two boys simply looked at each other awkwardly.

——————————————————————————————————

Chapter Text

It took a while for Y/N to calm down after his run-in with the golden trio, after thinking about it more he could see why there was disdain towards his house. Draco Malfoy made it clear that he enjoyed the misery of seemingly everyone else, and considering the number of negative things he has to say about the three Gryffindors it was clear that they were a common target.

That didn’t mean he liked what they had said, he was still annoyed about it. The fact that they seemed to hate him just for the colour of his robes and scarf. Maybe they would hate him anyway even if they got to know him, but at least then there would be a chance and he could have some input, but no, they just had to assume he’d be like Malfoy.

“Heard what you did to weasel boy,” Speak of the devil. Malfoy stared down at Y/N, who lay on one of the seats in the Slytherin common room, with a smug look on his face. Y/N simply looked back with a blank expression. “Though maybe next time you should teach the rest of them a lesson too.”

“What lesson would that be? That Slytherins are all exactly what they assume us to be?” Y/N questioned with a sneer, he wasn’t in the mood for Malfoy’s praising insults.

“No. That Slytherins aren’t to be trifled with.” He responded, a sour look taking over his face.

“It’s that attitude that has the rest of the school itching to find any reason to hate us.” Came Y/N’s reply as he stood from the seat he was on. “What reason do you have to hate those three anyway? They insult your precious pure blood or something?” He spat, to which Malfoy’s face seemed to quickly fill with annoyance.

“Ha! What is there not to hate about them?” He quickly retorted, continuing with a rant, “You’ve got Potter, the precious little saviour of the wizarding world with his stupid little scar. Then there’s Weasley, a disgrace to the words pure blood with his poor little muggle integrating family.” He paused, with his face seemingly changing from annoyance to pure disgust as he described the final person, “And finally there’s Granger, the mudblood who seems to think she deserves her place here with the real wizards and witches because she can cast a few spells.”

Y/N’s fists balled up as Malfoy described the trio. He could see why someone would maybe have some distaste for Harry, that always came with someone who was famous for something they hadn’t even had a say in. Ron and Hermione, however, had stupid reasons to hate them, the same type of reasons that they had to hate Y/N. Prejudice.

“I was wondering why everyone seemed to hate Slytherin.” He turned to walk away as Malfoy seemed offended that someone would dare walk away from him, however, Y/N just added, “Thanks for showing me.” Before he started walking away, leaving Malfoy teeming with rage at his comments.

After his little outburst at Malfoy, Y/N was almost feeling better until he got into runes class, late. Due to his less-than-punctual arrival, he was left with only one available seat, one next to Hermione Granger. His opinion of her was still sour from yesterday, even after learning she had a pretty good reason to dislike Slytherin, it didn’t excuse her behaviour towards him.

As he sat down neither of them spoke. He just brought out his book and began taking notes on what professor Babbling was writing on the blackboard. Unfortunately for both of them, this class happened to be one which would require them to partner up. As professor Babbling explained that the school had run into some issues with creating enough items with the runes engraved for them to have one each, so they would be working In pairs, and their scores would be shared.

While at first both of them seemed to be able to act diplomatically, it quickly fell apart after Y/N had corrected one of Hermione’s translations. This seemed to start a battle of passive-aggressive remarks about each other’s work. This argument was only stopped when Babbling reminded them that their marks would be shared, which managed to get them to stop and go back to working in silence.

As the assignment came to a finish all the students were asked to hand in all of the words on the item they could translate so it could be compared to the complete translation sheet Babbling had. Most students seemed to pass, some doing better than others but generally, most seemed to have almost the same score. The only pair which was different was Y/N and Hermione.

They were both asked to wait outside after class, which led to the assumption that they had failed. The looks that each of them got from their classmates as they left the classroom told a whole story of how this would immediately be passed around as a rumour. The two top students in a class had failed due to their inability to work together.

“I told you we were looking too much into that specific carving,” Hermione said after some moments of standing in silence. “They were clearly looking for us to decipher the words, not the letters.” She spoke almost condescendingly, with her arms crossed as she looked away from Y/N.

“OH I’m sorry,” Y/N quickly retorted sarcastically. “I would have expected little miss perfect to understand doing more than expected and thinking it would go well.” He continued bitterly.

“What is that supposed to mean?!” She asked angrily.

“I heard about your stunt in 3rd year, taking every single elective class.” He responded bluntly.

“Where did you hear that from?” The anger seemed to leave her voice, almost sounding scared now. If he knew about the extra classes did that mean he knew about the time turner, that would be really bad.

Y/N just huffed, amused, before turning to look away. “Malfoy’s mentioned it in almost all of his rants about how you. I was slightly impressed someone could manage that much” The last part came out quieter. This both calmed down Hermione, and also slightly flattered her ego. It also set her off again though. At least no one knew about the time turner, but Malfoy was still mouthing her off to people. She went to speak but was interrupted as the classroom door opened, professor Babbling calling them both back in.

They both stood at the front of the classroom as Babbling sat at her desk, looking at the sheets of parchment in front of herself. “Now then, which one of you decided to try and decipher these as letters instead of words? When we have barely gone through the first half of this alphabet?” Her tone was difficult to figure out, she sounded annoyed but almost impressed. Both Y/N and Hermione didn’t speak initially, nervous about what the consequence of doing so would be.

“It was me pr-”

“We both decid-”

Both of them spoke at once, interrupting each other. They also then both turned to face each other, a look of surprise on their faces. Y/N had intended on taking the blame for the mistake himself. Hermione had intended on sharing the mistake between the both of them equally. Professor Babbling simply looked at both of them with the same expression, expectant.

“I thought I saw one of the words was carved differently so I decided to try translating it by letters instead of words. It was my fault professor.” Y/N quickly spoke up, before Hermione could.

“Is that true Miss Granger?” Babbling asked after nodding at Y/N.

Hermione hesitated for a moment before speaking, “Yes professor,” she paused for another second, “but it wasn’t all him professor. I also thought it was strange so I agreed to try and decipher the letters instead of words. It was both of our faults not just Y/N’s.” This might have been the first time he had heard her say his name out loud. He stared at her confused, he was trying to take the blame but she seemed determined to share it for some reason.

“Is that so?” The professor’s expression had switched from questioning to almost smug now, as she turned back to Y/N. “Trying to take all the fame yourself are you?” These words confused both Y/N and Hermione. “10 points to Slytherin and Gryffindor.” She said proudly after, both students looking even more perplexed than before, taking a glance at each other before looking back to the professor for an explanation. “The runes on your item were inscribed poorly, which meant one of the words was incorrect. Your decision to look into the letters instead of the words meant you got a different answer to everyone else but an answer correct for your specific item and using the knowledge you have not even been taught yet. Very impressive.”

Y/N and Hermione were both still dumbfounded by the information as they continued to look at the professor. She simply laughed and told them to enjoy the dinner feast, ushering them out of the classroom

It took a moment for both of them to realize they had to start moving, still in shock from the fact they hadn’t failed their assignment but had passed it so well that they got house points for it. Neither said anything for a moment.

Y/N didn’t know what to think, they had just had an argument where he was starting to expect Hermione was right and he messed it up for them, but now that had been spun around. Was he meant to start mocking her because he was right all along? Surely he couldn’t do that after she was trying to share the blame while they both thought they were in trouble. Unless she somehow knew they were actually getting praise not punishment, but surely then she would have taken all the credit?

Hermione’s inner conflict shared a similar sentiment to Y/N, if not in reverse. She was debating thanking Slytherin for his contribution as it had paid off but now she was wondering if that was his plan all along, to make her feel stupid and take all the credit. The way that he spoke to the professor however made it seem much more like he was trying to take the blame like she was.

“Thanks fo-”

“Thank yo-”

Once again they both tried to speak at the same time, interrupting each other. This time however it was Hermione who spoke again first. “Thank you for convincing me to use letter translations instead of trying to use words,” Her tone was sincere with a tinge of reluctance, she was thanking a Slytherin for their help after all.

“Well thank you for trying to share the blame when it looked like we screwed it up,” he replied, just assuming that was in fact what she was doing. The slight look of surprise on her face nearly confirmed it for him. After the thanks, neither of them spoke again for a moment, before Y/N added, “We should get going if we want to make it to dinner.” With that he began to walk towards the great hall, Hermione following shortly after.

They walked side by side for a short while in silence, the halls were mostly empty by now, which meant they were probably already missing the feast, but neither of them sped up yet. The silence by this point was starting to feel awkward to Y/N so he attempted to start some form of conversation.

“You think anyone else’s runes were also broken?”

“Hm, I doubt it. Everyone else seemed to pass mostly fine, if they had an entire word missing they would have probably lost a lot more points.” She replied after some pondering.

“Maybe they also used letters instead of words to translate” Y/N fired back with a small grin. “I’m sure there’s at least one other person who has been looking ahead in the runes books.”

“Well, I’m sure that no one else was asked to stay behind with us.” She reminded him smugly.

“Touché” He responded with an amused huff as they continued towards the great hall. Both of them seeming to forget their vendettas against each other for the time being.

They were both still talking even as they walked into the great hall. Hermione had eventually taken the lead which meant Y/N was taken straight to the Gryffindor table, somewhere he suddenly realized was probably not the best place to be. The sudden realization came when he looked around and saw plenty of Gryffindor, and a few Slytherin staring at him as he stood.

Hermione also seemed to suddenly realize what they had done as her friends looked at her with surprise and a smidgen of annoyance at her bringing a Slytherin to their table. Before either of them could come up with a reason why Y/N was at their table Neville, who was luckily sitting close by, spoke up.

“Oh Y/N! I was hopin’ I’d run into you at some point, here,” He turned to his right and quickly offered the book he had borrowed earlier back to him. Y/N took a moment to realize what was happening before quickly taking the book and checking it to make sure it was the right one. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Neville, it was more that he didn’t trust the two other boys who were staring into the side of his head.

“Thanks, Neville.” He said somewhat quietly, realizing that Ron and Harry were looking at him. Luckily their stare-down was interrupted by Hermione who gasped.

“You’ve got that book?!” She exclaimed, quickly realizing she probably said it much louder than intended and had caught even more people’s attention as she and Y/N realized they were both still standing. Hermione quickly sat down at the table to avoid the stares, but Y/N stayed standing. He knew that sitting at other houses’ tables was allowed, but he also knew it would probably be a bad idea. Unfortunately, that didn’t usually stop him.

“Why does it seem like everyone needs this exact book?” He asked as he sat next to Hermione and Neville. The former’s surprise was much more shown than the latter, who looked surprised but didn’t seem too bothered by it. The tension was quickly brought back to the conversation as Ron spoke up.

“Some of us actually have to try in potions. Not all of us get special treatment.” He grumbled the last part. While Y/N found that annoyingly rude he couldn’t exactly counter that argument, Snape certainly did have a preference for his own house’s students and he did not make any attempt to hide it.

Y/N just ignored Ron and turned to Hermione, who seemed to be somewhat scowling at the said redhead. “Did you want to borrow it too?” he asked, which once again seemed to surprise the witch. She stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was playing some sort of game, similar to how Neville was when he offered. “I mean, I can’t give it to you now, I need to finish the notes I was planning on making yesterday.” He added after she stayed silent for a moment. “But once I’ve finished I can let you know?” He wasn’t sure what was possessing him to offer this but seeing her face light up made him feel something in his chest.

“That’d be great,” She whisper shouted, learning her lesson about being too loud quite quickly. The small moment of joy was quickly snuffed out as a certain white-haired boy seemed to appear at their table.

“I didn’t expect much from you after your outburst today but I must say this is low even for you L/N,” His words were directed at Y/N but the way he looked at everyone surrounding him made it feel like much more of an insult to them.

“What’s that meant to mean Draco?” He responded, getting to his feet once again and glaring at said Slytherin.

“It means I’m surprised you’re sitting with the mudblood after all the things you said about her this morning.” His words seemed to shock everyone at the table, including Y/N. Sure he’d grumbled about the Gryffindors while walking into the Slytherin common room he’d said nothing more than a few indirect insults. And Malfoy had been nowhere near enough to actually hear any of that.

Everyone was now looking at Y/N, waiting for some kind of response, but he just continued to stare at Malfoy, face no longer confused but annoyed. Ron and Harry looked the angriest, they knew Hermione bringing a Slytherin to their table was a bad idea. Neville looked mostly shocked, he’d thought Y/N had been quite nice if a bit cold while talking to him. Hermione was mostly confused, she felt angry but also sad. She had truly thought you were a different Slytherin but it seemed as if that was just an act.

Upon seeing the fact that no one was saying anything Malfoy took it upon himself to continue, “Oh my, it looks like you’ve all been made fools.” He laughed, his lackeys Crabbe and Goyle laughing along with him. “You should have heard him in the common room. ‘I can’t believe I was insulted by a filthy mudblood’ He was ruthless.” Malfoy continued, still laughing.

The three Gryffindor boys at the table all now looked at Y/N with pure anger. If it had been an insult about something else they’d likely care less, but they all knew how much Hermione’s heritage became a point of sensitivity over the years. The only one who did not seem to be angry was Hermione herself, and that was only because she was now confused. She hadn’t insulted him, or said anything for that matter, during their first meeting.

What made all of them become just as confused as Hermione was when Y/N laughed himself. “Thanks for disproving your own story Draco.” He said very smugly, to Malfoy’s confusion.

“What?” was all he could ask after that, he was completely lost.

“If I called her a mudblood that’d be quite hypocritical wouldn’t it?” Y/N said even more smug than before. The Grin on his face went from cheek to cheek by this point. It took everyone a second to realize what he said before they all looked at him shocked.

“You’re…?” Hermione was the only one who spoke, looking up at him curiously. He didn’t bother clarifying however, he just laughed again and stepped out of the seat he was still standing above.

“Thanks for my book back, Neville.” Was all he said before he walked off, out of the hall. Leaving everyone to their shock. Truth be told he didn’t know if walking out was allowed, and he also didn’t know if it was a good idea considering the hunger he felt later that night, but it was worth it for the dramatic exit.

Malfoy eventually stormed off grumbling to himself and his lackeys, leaving the Gryffindors to their confusion. Neville was the only one who spoke up, “I thought he seemed a bit nice for Slytherin, no wonder.”

They all seemed to share similar sentiments. Hermione was the one who felt mostly relieved however, she would have felt very stupid if after all that he turned out to be a blood purist like Malfoy. She felt quite happy at the fact that there was another muggle-born she knew, though the fact he was in Slytherin did somewhat concern her.

“Guess that explains why he was so annoyed at us for talking bad about him for being in Slytherin,” Harry spoke somewhat glum. Not only had they been accusing someone they didn’t know just for their house, but they were also accusing someone who was likely not even welcomed by his house for his blood. Talk about a bad combo.

——————————————————————————————————

In hindsight, telling Malfoy that he was a muggle-born to win an argument may have not been Y/N’s best idea. Even before the end of the day, it seemed like the news had managed to travel throughout the whole school by the time he settled into his bed. It took barely 5 seconds after entering the common room for the first insults to start getting thrown his way. The hate came from seemingly everyone, no one seemed to oppose it at least.

He didn’t stay in the common room for long after that, quickly moving away to the library. It ended up being a good choice as he managed to survive the rest of the time before breakfast without anything else being said. The brief period of peace did not last when he entered the great hall, however, immediately having some snide comments from Pansy Parkinson. There were some looks from the other houses too, though those were at least not directly giving him any trouble.

A particular group of Gryffindors looked at him particularly closely as he picked up some toast and quickly left the great hall again.

“I hope that blows over for him quickly,” Neville said, looking back down to his food as Y/N left.

“With Malfoy? I doubt it,” Harry voiced his doubt. The rest of the group seemed to share his sentiment as they went back to their food. Hermione was still thinking about what had happened yesterday. Malfoy claimed that Y/N insulted them behind their backs, particularly her by calling her a mudblood, but if he was also a mudblood surely he had no reason to use that as an insult.

She stood up suddenly, surprising the rest of her friends. When she stepped over the bench and turned to walk away without saying anything Ron spoke up.

“Where are you goin’?” His tone wasn’t particularly aggressive but it certainly wasn’t happy either.

“I still need that potions book off him.” She said, with less conviction than she thought she had. Thinking about it, she didn’t exactly have to go get it now and could easily just get it during potions later, which they both shared. “And I want to see if he’s okay,” She said that part more as a mutter, but the others still heard. Ron particularly seemed displeased with this.

“Really? You’re gonna go check on him even after the shit he said?” he seemed genuinely surprised at the concept. Harry nodded as Ron spoke, clearly sharing some sentiments.

“I thought you two of all people would understand what it’s like to be picked on, especially by Malfoy,” She responded with an annoyed huff as she stormed off. How could they just treat Y/N like he deserved to be bullied for his heritage? Sure he had been somewhat unpleasant during their first talk but he seemed to be the opposite of what a Slytherin usually was like the rest of the time, what with helping Neville, and the conversation they managed to have after runes class yesterday.

Finding where he had gone wasn’t too hard for Hermione, he had left a literal breadcrumb trail with the toast he was eating. Eventually, she ended up in the library, which seemed pretty obvious now that she thought about it. There weren’t exactly a lot of other places available that this time. She saw him sitting at one of the desks on his own after searching the library for a moment, deciding to just walk up to him casually she pulled one of the chairs at his table out and sat down, surprising him.

“Oh, uh, hi?” he awkwardly whispered, looking around himself quickly.

“Hello,” was all Hermione could think to respond with, completely forgetting why she came here in the first place. They both just stared at each other for a few seconds before she suddenly remembered she had to say something else. “Um, I was wondering if you were done using Dr Mardovia’s healing tonics and treatments?” Choosing to leave out the fact she was also checking if he was okay after all the abuse he seemed to get in the great hall.

“Right, yeah. I finished my notes earlier today. The books back in my dorm though.” He stated, checking the watch in his hand he quickly added. “But if I go fast I could probably get it before classes start.” Standing up quickly pushing his chair back in and grabbing the book he was reading. Hermione also quickly stood before realizing she probably shouldn’t follow him to his common room, he probably wouldn’t want to get in trouble for showing her its entrance, even though she already knew.

“We have potions together later today so I guess you could give it to me then?” she seemed unsure.

“I mean, you could just come with me now.” He replied, starting to walk out of the library as Madam Prince started to usher them out of the library for talking.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get in trouble for showing me where it is,” She said back worriedly, but Y/N just laughed.

“What are they gonna do? Take away house points?” he just smirked at Hermione who was starting to get flustered with the whole conversation. “Trust me, I’m over Slytherin by this point.” He began walking again, Hermione hesitating before jogging to catch up and follow him.

It didn’t take them much time to reach the Slytherin common room entrance. Then Y/N surprised Hermione by saying the password straight away, right in front of her. She didn’t exactly know if it was against the rules to do this but she was certainly shocked to see his complete disregard for secrecy. He walked straight in, before turning back to her and seeing her stand at the entrance unmoving.

“You can come in if you want. There’s no one else here.” He watched her for a moment before shrugging and turning back to walk towards the boy’s dorm entrance. She debated it in her head before quickly following again. If this had turned out to be a trap she’d have fallen for it hook line and sinker, luckily it wasn’t, but she was starting to berate herself for being so careless. “I’ll be back in a second.” He disappeared out of view and she was left alone in the common room.

Now that she really thought about it, if anyone else showed up this would look particularly bad. She was just glad professors didn’t go into common rooms without a specific reason, if she was caught here by Snape she’d probably have a heart attack. Fortunately, that didn’t happen and Y/N quickly returned with a thick book in hand.

“So I just checked and this actually is due to be back in the library today, and considering we have like 5 minutes before classes are meant to start I don’t think we’re going to manage to get it swapped over in time.” He told her, disappointment starting to show on her face before he quickly added. “I’ll still give it to you though, just maybe during lunch. We could meet up in the library.” He spoke a bit quieter looking away from Hermione as he did so.

“That works for me, I can still get some reading done before potions today.” She smiled, which he returned once he turned back to look at her. That was when the door to the common room opened again and the person both of them least wanted to see walked in. Malfoy spotted them immediately and his face was sent straight into a sneer as he walked in with his goons following closely behind.

“What do we have here? Looks like the mudbloods are already bonding over their dirty blood. Did you break in Granger? Or did L/N smuggle you In?” he smirked as he spoke, Crabbe and Goyle both snickering as they waited for the other Slytherin to respond. Y/N didn’t say anything though, he just looked at Malfoy. “Cat got your tongue? Are you going to say anything? Maybe if you apologize I won’t report you to Snape, I’m sure you’ll ge-”

“You talk too much Draco.” Was all Y/N said, interrupting Malfoy who recoiled in a mix of shock and disgust as Y/N grabbed Hermione’s arm and pulled her out of the common room? Leaving Malfoy red and seething as he stared at the entrance.

Once outside the common room Y/N let go of Hermione’s arm and turned back to the entrance as it closed. “Thanks,” she said quietly as they both started walking away, expecting Malfoy to quickly follow and wanting to avoid his presence for now.

“Don’t mention it. I’m sure Draco will do that enough himself.” He sounded slightly bitter. “Sorry to get you involved like that might have been better if you waited outside. At least then he wouldn’t have something to tell Snape about.” His tone quickly became apologetic.

“If I was outside then he probably would have accused me of something anyway, and I wouldn’t have someone to shut him up for me.” She said smugly back to him, a hint of genuine appreciation to boot.

“Trust me, annoying Draco is my pleasure,” he said with a smirk as he stopped next to the outdoor exit, Hermione stopping and turning to him too. “I guess I’ll catch you at lunch?”

“Yep, library?”

“Yep,” they both smiled at each other for a moment, before going their separate ways to class.

Y/N’s first class seemed to drag now that he had something he was looking forward to. Did he say looking forward to it? Well, when you’ve been dealing with the snivelling bullies of Slytherin for long enough any interaction with someone else is something to look forward to.

Hermione seemed to be feeling the same, though she tried to justify it by claiming she was just excited to finally read the potion book she’d been looking for. Luckily she didn’t have to deal with Ron or Harry in Arithmancy so she could go a few more hours without explaining why she seemed to be a bit happier than usual.

Eventually, lunch did roll around and Y/N quickly made his way to the library to wait for Hermione, truth be told he didn’t know if she was just going to show up for the book or if they were going to be studying together. Either way, he’d likely be spending this whole lunch in the library, maybe he’d go to the great hall in the last few minutes to see if any food was left to grab.

Getting to the library first, Hermione looked around to see if she could spot Y/N before deciding to just grab a seat and wait for him to show. Though once again she was somewhat questioning the legitimacy of this meeting, perhaps she was still being a bit too careless with this. Luckily that thought was quickly squished when she saw him walk through the doors, spotting her quickly and making his way over.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said quietly, to which she just smiled slightly. Pulling out the book Y/N hesitated before handing it to her. Hermione took it excitedly and almost immediately began swiping through it before catching herself and looking back to Y/N, intending to thank him but seeing him on the brink of talking again she held herself back. “I was wondering, maybe, since I’ve already read it, I could maybe help you with it? If you’d like that, I’m not sure if you’re a solo reader, I kno-”

“I’d like that,” She just said coolly, stopping his rant. He stayed quiet for a second before nodding, a ghost of a smile gracing his face.

“Okay cool,” he whispered and realizing the awkward angle they were sitting at he quickly moved his seat around to be sat on the same side of the book as her.

They managed to get a few pages in before Hermione spoke about something other than the book itself. “How are you handling the ‘Mudblood’ hate?” she used air quotes when saying mudblood to apparently show how she thought of the word.

“It’s not that bad, the insults at least. The worse part is now I’m getting dirty looks from even the Slytherins. At least before they’d just ignore me.” He seemed very calm about it while Hermione was almost outraged. She’d been dealing with hate for her heritage for her whole school life so she knew how bad it could be, but considering the fact, there were also people hating Y/N for being in Slytherin it seemed much worse for him.

“Well, you’re fine in my books. You are a prime example of a good Slytherin student.” She spoke with a voice she hoped was reassuring. Y/N went slightly red from the compliment, muttering a simple thanks in return, as they both got back to the book.

Hermione ended up being very grateful for Y/N’s assistance as it turned out Dr Mardovia was quite passionate about his work. Which meant he’d usually have a few words of useful information and then a few paragraphs of useless drivel about whatever he was describing. Y/N, having read the book already, knew where these parts were and they could easily skip them and get back to the useful information.

By the time the end of lunch bell rang both of the students were surprised, it felt as if the lunch had passed by in seconds. Y/N took back the book gingerly and looked apologetic as he spoke, “Sorry, guess I got distracted. If you still want to we can try getting here before curfew and swap it over to you then?” he asked hesitantly.

“It’s okay I was just as distracted, is a very interesting book, ignoring all the pointless stuff.” She replied with a smile on her face, as they both walked out of the library she spoke again, “We have double potions now don’t we?” when Y/N nodded at her she continued, “well then, we can just sit together and I can use the book that way.”

“That works for me. But do you think the rest of your friends will mind?” He asked. From how their interactions seemed to have gone so far this felt like a slightly bad idea and he didn’t want to end up causing more issues for Hermione.

“Well, then they will have to deal with it.” She said simply, Y/N smiled slightly at this. Even if he had only known her properly for a day or two she already had been nicer to him than anyone else in the school during his whole stay.

As they arrived at potions class Ron and Harry both looked surprised to see Hermione with Y/N. They were even more surprised to see the pair both smiling and Hermione laughing at a joke the Slytherin had said. Neville looked quite pleased to see Y/N again and even joined their conversation as Snape began to usher them into the classroom.

The joy that was once being felt by Y/N and Hermione was quickly sapped away as Snape asked to speak to them privately. Bringing them away from the rest of the class. Malfoy could be seen watching the scene play out with an ugly grin on his face.

“Would either of you two care to explain why a Gryffindor was inside the Slytherin common room?” he asked with his trademark sneer towards both students.

“I brought her there professor, I was getting a book from my dorm for her to borrow and didn’t realize other houses couldn’t enter our common room.” Y/N quickly explained before Hermione could even get a word in.

“You may not have known, having only joined this year, but Miss Granger has been here five years. Plenty of time to learn the rules.” He spoke with what felt like pure malice. “10 points from Gryffindor, if I hear of this again it will be detention for you both,” He quickly left the pair after he said that, returning to the rest of the class who had started to become rowdy while waiting.

“Fuck, Hermione I am so sorry I didn’t think he’d single you out like that,” Y/N said turning to Hermione who surprisingly just had a smug grin on her face as she stared back.

“Oh please, 10 points is hardly anything to cry about.” She laughed out, confusing Y/N. She decided against elaborating and simply walked back to the class, Y/N following shortly after. They ended up at a table with Neville but managed to avoid Malfoy, Ron and Harry, much to the latter two’s confusion.

Malfoy ended up staring at the two for most of the class, which didn’t seem to bother them, particularly as they just worked on their own potion. Y/N brought out the potion book soon into the lesson, which Neville also ended up sharing in order to get his potions completely correct.

“I can’t believe you admitted fully to being at fault and he still only went for Hermione,” Neville said at some point during class, they had told him about what happened when he asked.

“Yeah, it’s fuckin’ stupid,” Even after Hermione said it was fine Y/N couldn’t help being annoyed at the professor.

“Especially since I’m pretty sure he made up that rule,” Neville added which made Y/N look at him in shock before Hermione clarified.

“It’s up to each house’s head what the policy of other students in their common rooms is. Clearly, Snape decided he wanted to be just as discriminatory as his students want to be.” This just annoyed Y/N even more, Snape had made a rule specifically just to screw with other houses and didn’t even think to tell anyone about it. Luckily Neville said something which seemed to cheer him up straight away.

“Guess that means you’ll just have to come to our common room in the future mate.” He said it so casually but to Y/N it was the most shocking thing he’d heard all day. Is someone offering to do something outside of class or studying?

“I mean won’t that be super awkward?” he said, nodding towards the table with Ron and Harry on it.

“Didn’t I already tell you about that?” Hermione said, once again smug as she began to quote herself, “Well, then they will have to deal with it.” All three of the students were smiling by this point, which was quickly interrupted by Snape coming over and insulting Neville and Hermione’s potions.

Which was even more insulting because Hermione and Y/N had switched seats and that was his potion that Snape said looked like it wouldn’t be something an ogre would drink.

After spending that first day together, Y/N and Hermione quickly became accustomed to each other. They weren't joined at the hip like Ron and Harry but they were certainly closer than previously. They now paired up often during runes class, complimented each other's potions during potions class and Y/N even occasionally sat at the Gryffindor table during feasts. Though that was often only when Ron wasn't at the table yet or had already left, he warmed up to Y/N the least out of the golden trio.

Neville and Y/N also had quite a budding friendship. While not as intense as Neville, Y/N enjoyed botany so they had many conversations about it, to the disdain of anyone else around them.

Hate still came from most Slytherin but it died down somewhat due to Y/N's usual lack of a response. The only ones who still seemed to be going full force were Malfoy and his goons. Y/N had taken to never sitting at the Slytherin table anymore, either stealing a bit of food and retreating somewhere else or sitting with the few people who didn't move away as soon as he got close.

Things would take a turn after another potion class in which Hermione, Y/N and Neville all sat together.

The agonizing two hours of potions class eventually came to a close as Snape decided to give them all an essay which had to be 20 inches long to the dismay of most who heard. Ron and Harry came over to Hermine, Neville and Y/N at the end of class as they all began moving towards the great hall. The conversation was mainly held between the golden three but Hermione would include him whenever she asked a question.

Even Harry included Y/N but much less as he was still somewhat untrusting of the Slytherin. Ron was quite quiet and didn't include Y/N in conversation at all, but at this point, it was less to make a point and simply from forgetting he was even there. Neville had left to talk to Dean and Seamus at some point.

As they got closer to the great hall Hermione seemed to end the conversation with Harry and Ron as they moved into the great hall, Hermione and Y/N staying behind as she seemed to want to talk to him before they ate, however, she got interrupted before even getting a word out.

“Going somewhere mudbloods?” Malfoy’s voice interrupted them as they turned to leave. Turning back to him they watched as he sneered with his two lackeys backing him up as always. “Hope you didn’t lose us too many points L/N.” So it had been him that told Snape about them both being in the common room, which made sense, he was that kind of coward. They turned to leave as they did before but then Malfoy brought something out from his robes and spoke again. “Maybe you won’t run away like a coward when you see I have this.”

He held a red book in his hand, it had a blank cover but was clearly worn with use. Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight of it, Hermione was mainly confused but upon seeing his reaction she turned back to Malfoy, clearly, it was important.

“Where did you get that?” Y/N snapped, he sounded angry but even more, he sounded scared.

“Found it,” came Malfoy’s voice as he relished in Y/N’s panic. “I think I’ll read some of it to everyone here, very interesting diary you have.” This really set Y/N off as he pulled out his wand but Malfoy quickly pulled out his own and he pointed it to the book instead of Y/N “Ah ah ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Immediately that stopped Y/N who dropped his wand. “Good, now as I was saying,” Malfoy opened the book to a random page and began reading.

The particular entry he read was quite disturbing, it spoke of kidnappings, experiments and other things which made everyone turn to Y/N in disgust and fear. Even Hermione backed up a step. The mood changed, however, when Malfoy got to the end and read a particular line.

“Little Y/N will be going into his 4th year of school this year. Soon I will be able to tell him all about our operation, I’m sure he will be overjoyed.” Even Malfoy who once held full conviction slightly faltered as he read that line. His distasteful tone came back in full force as he started talking again, however. “Looks like your blood isn’t just dirty, it’s also completely insane.” Some Slytherin students laughed at this but most of the audience stayed silent at this point. Y/N was mortified but managed to plead with Malfoy.

“Okay, you’ve had your fun now give it back.” He tried to be forceful but his voice betrayed him as it quivered. Malfoy looked at him with disgust before a wide grin came to his face and he closed the book.

“Of course,” It was foolish to believe he was actually going to give it back but even knowing that Y/N went to catch the book as Malfoy threw it towards him. “Incendio!” The book instantly turned to ash as the spell hit it. Everyone seemed stunned before many of the Slytherin still watching began to laugh. Y/N just looked on in horror at the pile of ash in front of him.

“What on earth are you all-”

Professor McGonagall came out from the great hall, after watching the students at the doors stand still for minutes. She stopped herself talking when she saw the falling ash and Y/N on his knees in front of it, tears beginning to flow from his eyes. Hermione had gone to do something to Malfoy after the spell was cast but he quickly retreated into the crowd and was impossible to find. She then quickly crouched next to Y/N and hesitated before putting her hand on his shoulder, making him turn to her. His face just looked broken.

McGonagall ordered all the other students into the hall or back to their rooms and quickly approached the two students remaining, looking with pity at the boy. “Was he hurt?” she asked Hermione, who was clearly much more stable currently.

“Malfoy burned a book of his, I think it might have been a family member’s diary.” She added, not answering McGonagall’s question directly but she was able to understand the situation with that information.

“You have my permission to take him to Gryffindor’s common room if you wish for privacy. I will attend to Mr Malfoy shortly.” She said with a nasty tone, clearly the boy’s name left a bad taste in her mouth.

Hermione helped Y/N to his feet and began leading him to the common room. McGonagall looked down at the pile of ash and quickly cleaned it up before returning to the great hall.

It took a while to reach the common room, as Y/N was somewhat struggling to walk at his usual pace. He had managed to stop crying but his eyes were still bloodshot and puffy, tears still threatening to fall at any point. The fat lady let them in straight away not even batting an eye at the Slytherin being brought in. They quickly found a spot at the edge of the room and sat down. Hermione rubbed his back as he breathed in and out shakily, wiping his eyes a few times before they were actually dry.

They sat in silence for a while before Y/N spoke, “It was my brother’s diary.” Hermione nodded as he continued, “He’s gone now, it was the only thing I had left from him.” His voice was shaky and it felt as if he was about to break at any point. Hermione didn’t say anything, she couldn’t think of anything to say. She just waited for Y/N to keep talking, while still rubbing circles on his back. “He was a bad person, but I didn’t know that for a long time. I always thought he was a good person, he was always a good brother. Until the day he told me what he was doing.”

Y/N stopped speaking, looking up at Hermione, who just looked back at him with her soft brown eyes. They stared at each other for a moment before Y/N managed to find his voice again, looking away.

“He was part of a group, they did bad things, like what you heard in the diary. When I started my fourth year he planned on telling me about it. It was a few months into the year when he found me at night and brought me into a room their group had. He started explaining what they did, and why they did it. I was terrified, my world flipped upside down.” He pauses for a second before continuing, “I ran out of the room back into the corridors, and he followed. He started yelling that I had to understand, I had to. He grabbed my arm and began dragging me back and, and-” He stopped as he sucked in a deep breath, sobs threatening to break through his voice but he managed to control himself before finishing the story, “I pulled out my wand and I just said the first spell I could think of to get him off me, it was diffindo.” Hermione gasped softly making Y/N look up at her. Her face showed her absolute horror.

“And it?” she asked after a moment to compose herself, Y/N nodded.

“It got him in the neck, he fell down right away clutching his throat.” Tears were falling from his face again and Hermione moved to wrap her arm around him now. “The reason I cared so much about the book is that I thought it would hold answers, I thought it could tell me why he was so evil. But I read it so many times and never found any answers, he must have just ended up that way.” He broke down and the crying came back in full force.

“Y/N I’m so sorry.” Hermione choked out, she felt awful for him as she pulled him into a full hug, wrapping her arms full around him as he began to cry on her shoulder, wrapping his own arms around her.

“Thanks, Hermione,” he managed to say after a moment of composing himself before the tears began to fall again. They sat like that for a while, just holding each other. Eventually, Y/N managed to staunch the flow of tears again but they stayed within the embrace, the only sound in the room coming from the fireplace and their gentle breathing.

——————————————————————————————————

Eventually, more Gryffindors began to flow into the common room. Most of them seemed to pass Y/N and Hermione without even looking, though those who did look were confused, annoyed or repulsed. Luckily it seemed as if most students wanted to go straight into their dormitories so not many stayed in the common room.

Two people who certainly seemed as if they would stay in the common room were Harry and Ron. When they had first arrived and seen the other duo sitting together Ron had made his way over with an expression showing his clear distaste for what was happening, however, after getting closer he seemed to lose steam and simply sat down. Y/N was confused by this, mainly because by the time he turned back to Hermione her face had returned to being neutral.

Harry didn’t seem annoyed with Y/N but his tone was certainly confused as he asked, “What’re you two doing here? We didn’t see you at dinner so we thought you might be in the library or something” The last part was directed towards Hermione.

“We came up here after what Malfoy did outside the great hall,” Hermione replied before Y/N could even begin to think of anything. Harry and Ron looked shocked before Hermione added, “McGonagall gave us permission.”

“We heard Malfoy incendio’d a book,” Ron said, it was a statement but the tone came out more like a question.

“It was Y/N’s brother’s journal,” Hermione replied again before Y/N could say anything, he appreciated it. He didn’t want to have to go through telling the story again. Fortunately, upon seeing the other two boy’s confused expressions she turned back to Y/N to ask, “Would you like to tell them?” Her voice immediately became much softer.

“Could you? My throat feels awful.” He responded with a small sad smile, and so Hermione began to recount what Y/N had just told her, keeping her voice down so that the rest of the common room couldn’t hear.

“Bloody hell.” That was all Ron said in response, Y/N expected more, maybe an insult but the redhead almost looked sympathetic.

Before Harry could also respond however another Gryffindor came up to the quartet. Neville went to speak but quickly stopped before he could get out a word after seeing the expressions of the four in front of him. He regained his composure after a second and spoke, “Uh, McGonagall wanted to see you two. She said to go to her classroom,” It was directed at Y/N and Hermione who looked mildly surprised. “And I heard what Malfoy did, he’s rotten. Sorry bout your book mate.”

“Thanks, Neville,” Y/N said back softly, he appreciated the sentiment. He and Hermione both stood after Neville walked away and made their way over to the entrance after saying goodbye to Ron and Harry.

The walk to the transfiguration class was quick, mostly due to not wanting to be past curfew but also because the empty hallways of Hogwarts always became eerie after dark. Upon reaching the classroom they knocked on the door and were quickly brought in by the professor and instructed to sit on the opposite side of her desk.

“Now then, would you two tell me what happened?” McGonagall asked, and after looking at each other for a second both Y/N and Hermione began to recount what had happened outside the great hall. Describing how Malfoy had taken a book from Y/N’s trunk in his dormitory, how Malfoy had read from it before casting incendio and then how he had slunk away into the crowd. “Well your story is certainly different to Mr Malfoys’s,” she spoke after a moment of silence following their recount of the story. The duo looked slightly shocked at the professor after.

“Do you not believe us, professor?” Y/N asked with some amount of desperation in his voice.

McGonagall let out a small chuckle at this, a smirk on her face as she spoke again, “I only said his story was different, not that I thought it was more believable.” The duo brightened at this and put their full attention on her as she pulled something out from under her desk, a red book. Their eyes immediately widened at this and McGonagall just said, “It really isn’t a difficult spell, I’m surprised you didn’t cast it immediately.” Y/N simply looked relieved but Hermione held a small bit of embarrassment, she had managed to forget about that spell somehow. “I suppose it is a good thing you didn’t, as the pile of ash served as evidence against Mr Malfoy’s claims.”

“Is he going to get in trouble professor?” Y/N asked, his voice was much timider than either of the two in the room expected. Hermione expected him to be overjoyed at the idea of Malfoy getting in trouble, but the look on his face confused her greatly.

“Indeed he will Mr L/N, what he did was dangerous and entirely against school rules. I would have expected you to be happy about that fact.” McGonagall said, she also seemed confused but much less than Hermione. Y/N’s face seemed to change to one of dread as he looked down. “Is there something wrong Mr L/N?” Her tone wasn’t harsh but it held a certain authority which made Y/N shrink into his seat as his face became conflicted.

He eventually let out a tiny whisper, but neither McGonagall nor Hermione seemed to hear as the professor asked him to repeat it. “I’ve been getting threats,” it seemed to pain him to say this.

“WHAT?” Hermione shrieked at this, her face was pure shock, and a smidgen of anger. He looked up at her with a bit of shame and regret as he then turned to McGonagall who shared a shocked expression but seemed to be able to keep it retained to her face and not her voice.

“I believe Miss Granger has the right question Mr L/N, what threats are you speaking of?” She managed to regain her composure quickly and her tone turned back to the authoritative one she used before.

Y/N was apprehensive, he looked back at Hermione who had managed to calm down but still looked quite angry, though it didn’t seem to be directed at him as when she saw he turned around it shifted to concern.

“I’ve been getting letters since I revealed I was a muggle-born. They are mostly insults and empty words, but some of them are threatening to do things to me.” He didn’t go into specifics but the look on his face seemed to say enough as McGonagall didn’t even ask what they said but instead who they were from. “They never have a name, but some of them are signed… ‘From the real Slytherin’ or something like that,” he paused before saying who sent them, clearly afraid of what it would cause.

Hermione just seemed to start fuming more and more as the conversation went on.

“And why did you not come to us about these letters?” Her tone was now getting into the territory of discipline.

“I thought they might have just been a normal thing, like a hazing. I didn’t take them seriously until now I guess,” he muttered the last part, clearly embarrassed.

“Well, I can assure you that they are no normal thing and will be treated very seriously. Have you kept the letters?” He nodded at her question so she continued, “Well then, I do not believe it safe for you to return to your dormitory. As much as I am confident no one would try anything I still do not think it would be wise. I will not force you but I will offer you the Gryffindor common room as a place to sleep until this situation is handled.” Now her tone was back to authoritative but now with some amount of softness.

“I’m not sure if the Gryffindors would appreciate that,” He began but upon seeing Hermione’s expression he changed his tune, “But I guess they’ll have to deal with it.” This made the brunette grin as she turned back to the professor, who had a small smile on her lips now.

“Well then, I do believe you two should be back to there then. I trust you will be able to take him back there Miss Granger?” she just nodded at the professor as the two of them began to leave. “Oh before you leave,” McGonagall stopped them, twisting her wand as a pillow and blanket appeared in Y/N’s hands. He just looked up at her in thanks and nodded before the two of them began walking up to the common room.

When the two of them arrived back at the common room it was past curfew even for them, the fat lady eyed them suspiciously but still allowed them entry when Hermione gave the password. There didn’t appear to be anyone else in the common room anymore, the rest of the Gryffindors appeared to have retreated to their dormitories. This included Ron and Harry, who Hermione was half expecting to still be here.

“Got quiet quick,” Y/N said after a moment of them just standing in silence. He walked over to the largest couch and placed the pillow and blanket down before sitting down on it himself.

“Yeah.” Was all Hermione said in response, sitting down on the same couch as him.

They both looked at each other for a second before turning towards the fireplace. It was relaxing to just stare into the flames, he could see himself falling asleep in front of this easily. It was just the waking up that frightened him, what if another Gryffindor came down and questioned why he was there, what if one came down and didn’t question why he was there but just jinxed him without even waking him up first? His spiral into paranoia was interrupted by Hermione.

“So, are you going to sleep?” Her face almost seemed hopeful as Y/N turned to face her.

“Eh, as relaxing as this place is I think it’ll take me a while to get adjusted.” He smiled at her, he was about to add how she can go up to her dorm and get sleep but she interrupted that thought as she spoke first.

“Good,” she didn’t say anything else initially and walked over to where her bag had been placed earlier when they initially arrived in the common room after class. Returning with a book, opening it and continuing, “I have been waiting for someone else to read this with. I’ve heard it is very good.” She showed him a book called Lord of the Rings.

They read for about an hour before Hermione seemed to get a bit too tired to continue. The system they came up with was that they would each read a page out loud and then alternate. At this point, however, Hermione was beginning to slur her words together and almost dropped the book a few times.

“Hermione, you gotta go to bed, I don’t want you to pass out and fall into the fire,” Y/N said with a small chuckle as she swayed dangerously close to the edge of the couch before turning to him and pouting a small bit.

“I don’t want to leave you on your own for your first night.” She held the pout but her voice seemed genuine. It may have just been the heat from the fire but Y/N could swear he saw a slight blush on her face as she said that. He debated in his own head for a moment looking at her, truth be told he didn’t want to be alone either, but there was only one long couch so only one of them was getting a good position.

“Well if you insist on staying down here then you can take the couch.” He said standing up as Hermione began to disagree. “I’m the one intruding and making your stay down here, at least take that so I don’t feel bad.” He smiled at her and she relented but then insisted he at least get the blanket, which he didn’t disagree with.

He ended up making a makeshift mattress on the floor next to the couch, at first he was doing it closer to the fire but after almost setting his robes on fire in his drowsiness he decided going closer to the couch would be a good idea. Hermione just seemed to watch as she lay down now, the lack of sleep clearly getting to her as she fought to keep her eyes open.

Eventually, when he finished making his bed for the night and laying in it Y/N spoke quietly to Hermione who seemed to be looking down at him. “Thank’s for today. And I guess for every other day too. I know I wasn’t exactly nice at first but you-” His talk was interrupted as a finger glossed over his mouth and Hermione shushed him from above. He almost looked insulted as she giggled before speaking quietly.

“No more talky today, sleep time.” And with that, she closed her eyes and seemed to almost immediately fall asleep. Y/N felt a bit embarrassed, both at the fact he was accidentally keeping her up and the fact she had essentially rubbed her hand over his face.

He didn’t manage to fall asleep straight away, his mind was still wandering between everything that happened today. He also kept stealing glances at Hermione, she had turned the other way in her sleep and now all that he could see was her bushy hair hanging off the couch. It was one of these times he looked at her, however, that he was startled to see her staring at him.

“Hi,” he just said quietly, not even sure she was awake.

“Hi,” she responded also quietly. “Why are you awake?” she added after almost a minute of silent staring.

“Just thinkin’ about stuff, today was quite eventful.” He said with a smile, her eyes seemed to crinkle as she returned the smile. “Why are you awake?”

“Just checking you’re still here.” She said this even more quietly and she almost looked slightly embarrassed.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna run off randomly in the night.” He could see that his words didn’t particularly soothe her worries so he got a bit bolder with his actions, “Gimme your hand,” she quickly dropped her arm off the couch for him, quicker than he expected. Slowly he intertwined their fingers so that they were holding hands. His face quickly grew red, and so did Hermione’s but he couldn’t see that, but neither of them pulled away as Hermione then started swinging her arm a small bit. “Just so you know I’m still here.” He whispered barely audible, and he didn’t know if he was justifying it to Hermione or Himself.

Either way, she had no issue with it as she quickly fell back asleep, a smile on her face that he couldn’t see. He slowly managed to relax and eventually closed his own eyes as sleep quickly overtook him.

Both Y/N and Hermione were early risers, which was very good as that meant both of them managed to wake up before anyone else had even gotten into the common room. This didn’t stop them from being embarrassed by themselves, however.

Y/N woke up first and was initially confused why he was staring at the Gryffindor ceiling but after one attempt to move his hands later, he remembered everything that had happened. Quickly his face went red at the fact he grabbed Hermione’s hand in his sleepy state. He initially considered trying to pull his hand out of hers but after seeing her start to stir he froze and just lay still while she woke up.

Hermione went through the same confusion as she woke up looking around before her eyes found Y/N’s. She also froze for a moment before they both looked at their hands, and neither pulled apart as they both sat up. Neither of them looked at the other.

“Did you, um, sleep well?” Y/N asked awkwardly after a moment with a hesitant smile on his face.

“Y-yeah, did you?” She replied a small smile on her face too as she turned to him.

“Mhm,” he nodded. Looking back at their joined hands they finally separated them letting out a small laugh each. “Sorry about that I just sorta did it without thinking.” He said with a crimson face.

“No it’s okay, you were just reassuring me.” She smiled her face scarlet.

“Oh, so you remember that talk? Thought you might have just been sleep-talking, heh.” Y/N laughed. Both of them fell into silence after that, a slightly awkward one. “Thanks for staying down here with me.” He finally said.

“Of course, what are friends for.” She smiled shyly at him. It was the first time they had affirmed their friendship, and already Y/N was wondering if that was all he wanted by this point.

Unfortunately, their moment together was interrupted by a redhead coming downstairs.

“Why’s your boyfriend sleeping on all our seat cushions?” Ginny asked, her previously confused face twisting to one of smugness as Hermione quickly grew even redder.

“Ginny!” she wailed, though she quickly adjusted her volume after realizing it was still quite early.

“I don’t hear you denying it,” Ginny smirked even wider before quickly dodging the pillow that was thrown at her. Quickly after that Hermione stormed off upstairs, but not before taking a glance back at Y/N who was still sitting on the floor. They smiled at each other before she retreated to her dorms, he assumed to get freshened up.

Now that it was only him and Ginny in the common room she quickly walked over to where he was now standing up. She glared at him, sizing him up before smirking and nodding to herself, grabbing one of the cushions and moving to sit down in one of the seats.

Y/N stood for a moment before walking over to where she sat, now reading a book she must have brought down with her. Sticking his hand out for her he spoke, “Y/N L/N,”

She looked at him before taking his hand and saying, “Trust me, I am aware. Ginny Weasley.” Smiling at him as he showed his shock openly.

“I’ve known your brother for almost two months now and I’m pretty sure he’d not touch me with a stick still.” Her smile grew at this.

“That sounds quite Ron-like,” this time his smile grew as he moved to put the cushions back to their seats, beginning to talk to Ginny about Ron until Hermione returned to the common room, much less red and much more casual.

This was how the next few days seemed to proceed. After Harry and Ron had come downstairs and had been filled in on what Hermione’s and Y/N’s meeting with McGonagall was about Harry immediately offered Y/N to use their bathroom and he quickly took the offer. The group then moved to go down to the great hall before being interrupted by McGonagall herself.

She informed the group after Y/N confirmed it was fine for the rest of them to know, that their investigation into the letters was ongoing and if Y/N wished he could keep sleeping in the Gryffindor common room until it was deemed safe to return to his dorm. He took that offer immediately.

The day continued normally after that. They managed to avoid Malfoy and all was going well until the night as the rest of the group went to their dorms, Y/N and Hermione were left as the only two in the common room again. Y/N once again tried and failed to convince her to go back to her dorm and once again they resigned to sleep in the common room together, this time however Hermione forced Y/N onto the couch as she took the floor.

“You made this look a lot more comfortable than it is,” he laughed and offered the couch again but she denied still. Like the time before Y/N hesitantly took Hermione’s hand into his own, and she once again didn’t pull away.

Things went on like this for quite a while, the investigation into the letters was seemingly bringing up nothing as the handwriting continued to not be a match to any known Slytherin. Not that Y/N was complaining. He went from having no friends, to having one friend to have more than he could count on one hand.

It was during one of the nights Hermione was destined to sleep on the floor that she said, “I thought it would get more comfortable after a while,” Y/N watched her for a second before talking without thinking.

“We could just share the couch,” He had said it so casually but quickly afterwards realized what he said, and looked up to see Hermione wide-eyed. He immediately regretted his words and tried to excuse himself as he became a stuttering mess before Hermione interrupted him.

“Okay,” He again snapped his eyes to her face to see her looking with a smug grin, though he could also definitely see her face was completely red. A smile came over his features as he pushed himself up against the back of the couch as much as he could. She laid down and tried to keep some distance between them but quickly found that to be a fruitless endeavour as she began to fall before Y/N grabbed her and pulled her back.

“You know, most people would find it weird for a boy and girl to sleep so close when they’re just friends,” his face was smug but also lit ablaze as so much blood rushed to his cheeks at Hermione’s proximity.

“Well,” She started but immediately stopped, muttering something.

“Well?” Y/N asked.

“Well maybe we shouldn’t be just friends,” Hermione muttered slightly louder this time, looking away from him. Y/N’s smug mood dropped slightly at that but quickly came back as he spoke again without thinking properly.

“Oh I see you’re finally sick of me,” Hermione looked at him quickly after he said that, shocked and about to correct him before seeing the smug grin on his face, and her face set into a scowl. “Ohhhh you meant something else?” When Hermione just continued to glare at him his smile dropped as he suddenly was afraid that she hadn’t meant something else. The way her face immediately became concerned reassured him though.

“No of course I’m not,” her tone was soft but also shy, the same as her eyes as she struggled to keep them on him.

“So does that mean you’re asking what I think you’re asking?” Some of his smugness came back but it was much more reserved as he asked.

“Well, that depends on if you’d say yes or not.” She replied finally breaking eye contact again and looking to the side.

He almost went to make another joke but seeing how fragile she looked while asking this stopped him and he took a hold of her hand, “Are you asking if I want to be your boyfriend?” she just nodded, turning back to look at his eyes. “Then yes, yes I will.” Upon saying this her face broke out into the biggest smile he’d ever seen on her as his face started to rival it.

“Thank Merlin,” she just said breathlessly, as she pushed her head into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, a small chuckle coming out of his mouth. There was probably more they needed to talk about but they were tired, so it could wait til tomorrow.

[antiquarianfics]

Taken pt. 8

If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.

a/n: woooh! this part got me excited to write!!! y’all, things are heating up! also, what if i just, idk, post a part early for once. surprise!

warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, canon typical violence.

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

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He doesn't cry, though. He doesn't scream or hit anything. No, he can't. Not yet. For now he can only hold his sleeping daughter close to him and listen to the gentle breathing of a child who hasn't slept or eaten well in weeks.

It is all he can do to stay strong for his daughter.

The trip back to the States from Siberia was certainly tense, but Bucky is certain that it was preferable to the conference room he is currently sat in. He has been in many a debriefing, but he has never been in one reliant on a toddler.

“Bec, honey,” Natasha says softly to Rebecca, “I know it’s all bad memories, but can you tell me what happened to you and your mom while you were away?”

Rebecca looks at Natasha unsure before looking up at Bucky from where she sits in his lap. She had developed a habit of looking to you for permission to speak while in HYDRA’s custody and the habit has transferred to Bucky. After all, the toddler essentially traded one parent for another.

Bucky smiles encouragingly at his daughter, “Go ahead, love.”

Becca looks back to Natasha and takes in a deep breath.

“Just start from the beginning, yeah?” Natasha encourages.

Becca nods shyly before finally speaking.

“Mommy and I were at the park. I was swinging really high and jumping off. Then, Mommy said we had to leave, and she started walking really fast. Then we were in a box, and it was dark, and I was really hungry. We were there for a long time.”

Bucky bites the inside of his cheek while he rubs his flesh hand comfortingly up and down his daughter’s arm.

“You’re doing great, sweetie,” Natasha says. “What happened next?”

Becca nods. “Dr. Frost took us to the room where he hit Mommy. He wanted to know about “The Asset.” Mommy said that was Daddy.”

Bucky visibly tenses in his seat and makes eye contact with Natasha in front of her. She sends him a tense smile in hopes of providing some comfort.

“What did Dr. Frost want to know about your dad?” Steve chimes in. While Natasha sits in the chair directly across the table from Becca, where she sits in Bucky’s lap, Steve sits at the head of the conference table a few feet away.

Bucky had insisted that not too many people were in the room to question Becca when Steve finally convinced him to let the team talk to her.

“Buck, I know you don’t want her to have to think about it anymore, but if we’re going to stop Morozov and avenge Y/N, we need to talk to her. She’s the only one who knows anything, and we’re desperate for a lead here, pal.”

“He kept asking Mommy about words that didn’t work.”

“Do you know why he wanted to know that?” Steve pushes.

“Steve,” Bucky warns as he becomes exceedingly more uncomfortable with the interrogation of his daughter. Steve makes eye contact with Bucky, and the face he sends tells Bucky he has no intent to back down. But he’s sorry about it.

“They wanted to keep me,” Becca says, scrunching her face.

Bucky scrunches his own face in confusion, and anyone observing the pair would be able to note their resemblance on the facial expressions alone.

“What do you mean, honey?” Natasha asks tensely.

“I do not know,” Becca says, confusedly looking back up at her dad. “But Mommy got really angry and pulled the…” she trails off, searching for a word you’d taught her all those weeks before. “Handcuffs?” Becca says, continuing when Bucky nods, assuring that she is making sense. “Mommy pulled her handcuffs off the wall. They wanted her after that.”

The three adults look at each other, trying to make sense of Becca’s story. Nothing was adding up. If they wanted Becca to begin with, why would they stop? Why would they kill you just to return her?

“We were there for a long time after that. They hit Mommy a lot. They asked her to do something for them, but she said they had to give me back to Daddy.

“They took her away. When she came back, they hurt her until she stopped moving.”

Becca finishes her testimony, and the Avengers are nowhere closer to understanding what HYDRA was planning. Bucky, however, begins to think about all his daughter shared, and he thinks maybe—just maybe—they didn’t actually kill you.

—

A month goes by and Bucky Barnes insists his wife isn’t dead. His friends all insist he’s grieving, but he knows better. Something about Rebecca’s story just doesn’t add up, and he is sure there’s more going on than his daughter could possibly know.

He has taken to keeping to himself, only really talking to Becca, who he has diligently kept close to him at all times. So, when he is called in for a meeting for the first time since Rebecca’s rescue mission, he isn’t sure what to do. He settles for letting her sit in the briefing room with her headphones on, turning on a cartoon for her to watch. After she’s settled, he turns to the team.

“What do we got?” He asks, mouth held tensely in a thin line.

Then, with the flourish expected from the director of SHIELD, Nick Fury waltzes into the room, answering Bucky’s question as he goes.

“President Atkins was found dead in the presidential suite of the White House at 9 AM this morning,” he says, taking a seat at the head of the table. He presses his fingers together in a triangle formation, taking on an introspective look of sorts.

A wave of shock passes through the Avengers.

“If we’re all here,” Tony speaks up from his seat at the conference table, “it must not have been a natural death.” He says it as a statement, but it is a question.

“Exactly,” Fury confirms. “We’re not sure who or how, but someone is loose who is capable of breaking through top of the line security without being detected.”

“So, possibly inhuman? Alien?” Bruce muses from Tony’s right.

“Or, it’s a defected SHIELD agent,” a new voice speaks up.

The room’s attention is drawn to a darkened corner of the large conference room. Bucky squints to make out the figure of a man, and he is surprised he hadn’t noticed the stranger before. Then again, one doesn’t have to be on guard at all times when surrounded by Earth’s mightiest.

The faces of the original Avengers team are confused, and Bucky wonders if the stranger is someone they know.

Finally, the man steps forward.

“Sorry to scare you guys. I’ve just always wanted to do that. The light was out in the corner, and I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Coulson?” Steve asks surprised.

“You died in The Battle of New York,” Natasha says, shock evident in her voice.

“Only for a few minutes,” Coulson shrugs with a lighthearted grin.

“Where have you been?” Tony asks tensely.

“Tahiti. It’s a magical place,” Coulson says ominously and with a smile.

Steve, Tony, and Natasha share a look. Coulson makes eye contact with Bucky.

“Sargent Barnes, it’s a pleasure to meet you! You know, if you have a minute later, I have a trading card of you and,” Coulson rambles only to be cut off by Fury.

“Agent Coulson,” Fury says, quickly ending Coulson’s fanboying and placing the conversation back on track.

Coulson straightens up and nods, clearing his throat.

“Like Director Fury said, President Atkins was found dead in his room this morning. We have reasonable evidence to believe this was an assassination carried out by a former agent.”

“And what evidence is that?” Bucky asks, eyeing Becca in the corner to make sure she’s still occupied with her show.

“Well,” Coulson says, moving to grab the tablet sitting on the conference table. “After the death of the president, two more assassinations took place.

“The Secretary of Defense, Elizabeth Fitzgerald, was found deceased in her home at 11:26 AM, and the Director of Homeland Security, Antonio Smith, was found deceased in his office in the capital building at 12:58 PM.”

“Okay,” Sam speaks up for the first time since Bucky had arrived. “That still doesn’t explain what makes you think a former SHIELD agent is responsible.”

“I’m glad you asked,” Coulson says, turning to a screen on the wall to his right. He taps the tablet and security footage appears.

Bucky and the team—Steve, Tony, Bruce, Sam, Natasha, Wanda, and Clint—all turn their attention to the screen. Bucky thinks the camera is portraying the backside of the U.S. Capital Building—a camera meant to watch the perimeter.

“SHIELD received this video from a trusted source within the Capital earlier today,” Fury says, nodding for Coulson to play the footage.

The video plays, and seemingly nothing is out of the ordinary at first. The wind gently blows the grass far below the camera, and no one is walking on the pavement directly below the camera. Approximately 30 seconds into the video, though, the camera catches movement in the bottom right corner of the screen. A figure swiftly walks to the edge of the Capital’s platform, quickly looks back over their shoulder, and jumps off the platform.

“Wait, go back,” Tony says.

“Was that?” Wanda asks, looking warily at Natasha who nods to say she saw it, too.

“There’s no way,” Sam says, leaning forward in his seat as if to see the frozen frame better.

“So, when you said a former agent, you meant…” Clint trails off, looking at Fury and Coulson for confirmation.

Bruce sits next to Tony, hands clasped underneath his chin in thought, eyes trained on the screen, analyzing it.

Coulson and Fury nod, but before anyone else can say anything, Bucky speaks.

“It’s Y/N.”

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ko-fi

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@just-henny @jasminocano @browneyedgirl22-blog @barnesboo1967 @matchat3a @unkasworld @qwertyb2577 @raajali3 @yoruse @iilsenewman @alysianc @fairytalegirlofurdreams @marvelxlevram @casa-boiardi @buckybraneslover111 @hhiggs @smolracoon25 @questionableratatouille00 @heytheredemonsitsyourgirl @thearieunhinged @sebastianstansqueen @middaystarlight @talesofadragon @killerwendigo @ozwriterchick @kandis-mom

[keiiaq]

౨ৎ introducing my dork diaries DR self ˖ ࣪⊹

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feel free to be inspired, however please do not heavily reference my drself without credit please! 🫶🏻

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“my aura is baby pink with gold sparkles.”

name: delina lavelle

nicknames: deli, curly fries, sheepy, mackenzie’s friend, it girl

age: 15

birthday: 24 february

zodiac: aquarius

nationality: 🇨🇭/🇫🇷

personality type: INFJ

hobbies: figure skating, pilates, singer/songwriter writer, drawing

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꒰⚘݄꒱₊┊appearance:

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꒰⚘݄꒱₊┊s/o:

name: hugo vienna

age: 15

height: 5’7”

nationality: 🇦🇹/🇪🇸

personality type: ISFJ

trope: red string theory/friends to lovers

love language: physical touch, gifts, quality time

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꒰⚘݄꒱₊┊appearance:

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꒰⚘݄꒱₊┊best friends:

I don’t actually happen to hang out with nikki’s friend group regularly as I have my own friend group.

I won’t give much information about them. i’ll only mention their name, nationality, age, and face claim! the symbols besides their name corresponds to the symbol beside each face claim :)

⋆˚࿔ name: fei castilla

nationality: 🇧🇷

age: 15

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ name: clara simmons

nationality: 🇳🇱/🇺🇸

age: 15

❤︎ name: sasha museka

nationality: 🇧🇷/🇳🇬

age: 15

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꒰⚘݄꒱₊┊best friend claims:

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꒰⚘݄꒱₊┊backstory:

delina was born into a rich family. her mother is the ceo of cartier and a dancer while her father is a landscape designer and doctor! she has an older brother called leo who is 18. her mother is from france while her father is from switzerland. when she was 11-14, delina attended le rosey in switzerland but then transferred to westchester.

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꒰⚘݄꒱₊┊trivia:

— the only sweets she eats are anything peach, apple or mango flavoured (her all times are peach or apple flavoured gummy rings)

— she’s more of a pastry fan (glazed donuts, churros, pan au chocolat, etc.)

— her favourite animals are deer, cats, bunnies, and sea otters

— she grew up with tomodachi life and animal crossing new leaf, she still plays it.

— lip product FEIN her pencil case is atleast 50% lipgloss and chapstick and they’re normally bakery/sweet scented. her favourite ones are cinnamon buns, cake batter, and vanilla bean ice cream

— she doesn’t use her phone much, she only really uses it for tumblr, pinterest, messages and calls. she’s mainly obsessed with pinterest since her screen time is 🆙

— huge lana del rey fan (just like me lolz), any song or unreleased she wrote? she’d most likely know the name, and demo number if it was an unreleased.

— her best friend group is basically the “it” group in their grade, they are pretty popular. but mainly because they tend to help and participate in many things. even if it’s ridiculous, they just do it so they make as many memories together.

— delina and her friends also have a tumblr account where they blog what they do.

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if anyone would like to be scripted into my DR’s don’t be scared to message me about that or anything in regards to shifting! I will try respond and help as quickly as I can manage.

I have also shifted to this DR so if anyone would like any stories i’m happy to post!

thank you for reading and happy shifting my lovelies! 🫶🏻

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