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averagewriter-inthedark · 8 months ago

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Me & The Devil P.2 🌘| Harry Potter Imagine

takes place during HBP & DH1

Part 1 here Final Part | HP Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Black!Sister reader x HP characters (platonic), Severus Snape x reader (platonic/semi-romantic)

Content Warnings: death, violence, profanity, angst, slight cannon divergence, mentions of torture and blood, set during the book timeline of the 1990s | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6k

Requested yes/no

Premise: A dark storm is brewing over Hogwarts. The return of Voldemort and his Death Eaters spark unease in the Golden Trio. For a certain member of the Noble House of Black, she takes on a new role of double agent with the partnership between her and a certain Hogwarts professor. Will she survive the ordeal and get her freedom when it's all over? The odds are slim when acting as a loyal servant and hunted by aurors.

Note: Snape is 37 in this like the books and reader is 31. Part 3 will be the final chapter to this miniseries but I have no idea when it will be posted. Hope y’all like this one! Also near the end the final scenes are inspired by Wanda in MOM so yeah that belongs to Marvel

——————-

Months went by. Waiting. Scheming. Y/n felt her mind deteriorate by the day. Between Bellatrix’s constant complaints of Draco’s failures and Narcissa’s moping, Y/n spent most of her time in the attic of Malfoy Manor. Hidden away to perfect her spells and create new ones. She even managed to successfully become an animagus.

A black crow.

How fitting.

At times Y/n found herself sitting in front of the window. Especially when it rained. The lightning in the distance, the crisp air filling the attic walls. Lost in her thoughts, Y/n would caress the silver jewelry laid on her left ring finger.

Once a month she’d receive a letter from Severus, unbeknownst to the others, detailing Draco’s attempts and all the times Snape’s had to cover for him. As part of their deal to keep quiet of the others' disloyalty and motives behind actions, Snape agreed to update her on Draco and keep the Order off Y/n’s trail. For Y/n’s side of the bargain, she agreed to deflect suspicion on him from their fellow Death Eaters. Specifically her sisters.

And what better way to do that then in holy matrimony.

“You want to get married?” she scoffed, placing her wine glass on the coaster. Having left with her sisters following the unbreakable vow, Y/n returned later that night after Severus sent an owl. Sitting in the same leather chair from before, “You humor me.”

“I can assure you I am everything but comical, Y/n,” he drawled, standing by the fireplace. The sound of wood crackling filled the room. “This is not an arrangement I suggest lightly.”

Seeing how serious he was, Y/n’s demeanor changed. “Wow,” her tone lowered, finger raising to tap her lips. Unable to read her mind since she was a gifted Occulmens like himself, Snape was left to wonder what Y/n was thinking. Truth be told the woman was more impressed than shocked by his proposal. “I think that’s the first time I’ve been rendered speechless, Severus.” Standing, Y/n grabbed her glass and approached the man. “You truly believe this would work? Proposing a marriage between us….” she trailed, glancing at the fire briefly, “is intriguing. Tell me more.”

Snape’s expression remained the same, “It is simply a matter of convenience.” No need to sugar coat it, “We want to keep our secrets hidden. So long as you can assure your sisters stay off my back…..I’ll make sure the Order stays off yours. We play the part of a happy married couple when operating business with the Dark Lord, and I will do everything in my power to get your freedom when this all ends.”

Y/n liked what she was hearing. The more she thought about it, the more engrossed she became. Marrying Snape wasn’t ideal--as the concept itself she did not care for--but Y/n could not deny the idea made her curious. Plus Severus was handsome, a talented wizard, and obviously, he knew her motives for following Voldemort. What her end goal was. She needed to keep him close.

“I think I’ll find playing the part of a smitten wife will be rather easy,” she rasped, stepping closer to Snape so their chests were nearly touching. Walking her fingertips up the length of his arm, Y/n leaned closer to Snape which ignited a sharp breath from the man. She smelled of expensive perfume. Their closeness allowed him to see how her eyes turned from their usual coldness to something more lustful. Almost sinister. His reaction made her smirk, “Confident you can manage the same….husband?”

Now, almost a year later, the two managed to successfully keep their union hidden from the Order. All while any suspicion the Death Eaters had of Snape seemed to disappear. Bellatrix, initially furious and doubtful of their ‘relationship’, soon began to trust him. Still, the witch grimaced each time the pair greeted the other with an affectionate kiss. Or when Y/n took claim to Snape’s lap during meetings. An action which surprised the man himself in the beginning.

Each letter Severus sent was met with one in return, however Y/n was careful to only send her owl in the late hours of the night. When her family was sound asleep. Signing the parchment with only her initials, but instead of B as the ending initial it was S. She’d never admit it aloud, but Y/n felt a sense of comfort with Severus. There was an overwhelming amount of hate in her heart, but the pinch of sanity left in her soul connected to him. Which is not a surprise. He is, of course, the only person who can relate to her.

Neither would call it love. Y/n possessed no love. And Snape lost his when Lily died. They had mutual respect and care for each other as their partnership grew. Finding the other’s presence calm despite the world around them going to shit.

The news of Draco’s success in connecting the two cabinets came from Bellatrix’s glee, the woman bursting into the attic with a loud, “It’s time, sister.” Reluctantly, Y/n trailed Bellatrix to Knockturn Alley, where they met several of their associates.

Dark clouds painted the sky. Thunder rumbling. It set the tone of the evening.

Y/n stayed stoic the entire journey. Hating every minute, yet doing nothing to escape. Where could she even go? The mark on her arm prevented her from doing so. Until Voldemort was defeated, the only way for her to stay alive was to continue the act of a loyal servant.

Draco was gone when the group breached the cabinet in a cloud of black smoke. The boy rushed to find Dumbledore and complete his task. He found the man on the observation deck of the Astronomy Tower. Unaware his longtime rival, Harry Potter, was below him, watching the scene play out.

The others arrived to witness Draco complete the task, however, in the end Snape was the one to administer the curse. And so the greatest wizard in history fell from the sky.

Y/n kept her eyes on Severus the entire time. Watching his reaction. When he went through with the unthinkable, Y/n wasted no time in rushing to his side. Cupping his face, she noticed the dissociative expression Snape wore. Mind processing what he had done. “Severus,” he didn’t respond, making her shake his shoulders, “look at me.” Finally he meets her eye and the woman matches his anxious demeanor. “We have to go. Now.”

Clutching his robe, the two push Draco in the direction of the Death Eaters. Bellatrix’s maniacal laughter rings as she shoots a spell into the sky to bring forth the Dark Lord’s symbol in the clouds. Not long after the tower was surrounded by members of the Order, ensuing a battle between the groups. Y/n tried to avoid dueling as much as possible. Not wanting to harm anyone, especially the kids in the school.

Cutting the corner after dodging a spell from her niece Nymphadora, Y/n spotted the wretched Fenrir Greyback attacking a man she didn’t recognize. Judging by the wild red hair he possessed, she assumed it was a Weasley. Greyback’s back was toward her, unaware she stood behind him. From the looks of it, the redhead was losing the fight.

Not sure what came over her at that moment, Y/n raised her wand and shouted, “Stupefy!” The werewolf was flung into the wall behind him, falling unconscious.

“Bill!” a voice screamed, Y/n turning to see a young woman running to where the Weasley laid. Bloodied and knocked out. Fluer dropped beside him, sobbing at the state of her fiance. She glanced up to see Y/n, immediately becoming frozen with fear while pleading with her to help. “Y-you--H-he’s been--.”

Cursing to herself, Y/n approached the two. “He wasn’t bit,” adjusting her dress skirt, she grabbed the cuffs of Bill’s jacket and gestured for Fluer to help. Together they moved him to a concealed area away from the battle. “He’s been scratched.” Having studied werewolves while in school, the woman was well educated on the subject. Muttering a healing spell, Y/n attempted to at least stop the bleeding, however, she knew the extent of his injuries were serious. “Nevertheless, the wounds are cursed. They’ll scar.”

Fluer watched her carefully, “W-why are you helping us?” Y/n gave no answer, instead casting a final healing spell before standing up to leave. In her peripheral vision, she noticed movement from Greyback, and sent a second stun his way to keep him unconscious. She always hated him, so it gave her great pleasure to pu thim down.

Truth be told Y/n didn’t know why she helped the injured Weasley. It would have best suited her to get the hell out of there and let whatever outcome happen. Whether that be Greyback killing the man or Bill successfully overpowering the werewolf. But instead, she cursed her associate. Saving the life of ‘the enemy’.

Several agonizing minutes passed before Y/n managed to escape the tower. At Snape’s order, she ran deep into the forest until she was far enough to apparate. Back at the manor she was immediately questioned by her sister.

“Is Draco okay,” Narcissa grabbed Y/n’s wrist to stop her from escaping to the attic. Eyes glossy with tears, “Did he--.”

“Your son is fine, Narcissa,” she roughly pulled away. “You have my husband to thank for that--he finished the job.” There was immediate relief from Narcissa, exhaling the breath she had been holding. Y/n went straight to the liquor cabinent, taking a glass and pouring a generous amount before downing it. She then refilled the glass, offering it to her sister without a word. Once Narcissa took it Y/n kept the bottle for herself, saying nothing more as she made her way to the attic.

It wasn’t long before the others arrived. Y/n heard Narcissa’s cry of relief upon seeing Draco. Bellatrix was busy scolding Greyback--something that brought a smile to her face. Other murmurs were made out, but hard to identify with all the noise. Moments later she heard the fast approaching sound of footsteps nearing her door. Jolting from her bed with her wand raised at whoever was about to breach it. Only when it was revealed to be Severus did Y/n lower her guard, rolling her eyes, “What have I told you about--.”

Snape slammed the door shut, muttering a silencing charm which caused Y/n to raise her brow. “We need to talk.” Her guarded expression returned, but Snape beat her before she could question him. “I know you stunned the werewolf to save Weasley.” All movement from the woment seized, frozen in shock.

“How do you know--.”

“I saw you with Miss. Delacour, Y/n,” Snape peers down at her with visible frustration. “Why would you risk such a thing? If you had been caught--.”

“But I wasn’t, Severus,” she interrupts, eyes flicking to the door in fear someone was listening, but then she remembered the spell he cast. “I was careful. You should know better than to underestimate me. And to answer your question….” she turned away from him, hands on her hips as she turned her focus to the woods beyond her window. “I don’t know what possessed me to do what I did--It just happened. Maybe it’s the fact the Weasley’s are distant family. Or because I fucking hate Greyback.” She throws her hands up in defeat, “Or I want the Order to have all its members to better their chances at winning this damn war. Maybe…” her hands fall back to her sides, “deep down there’s some humanity left in me.” The words were so low it was barely a whisper. Y/n shook her head, the speck of softness replaced with disinterest.

“Whatever it was,” turning back to him, Y/n narrows her eyes in warning. “It’s no longer our concern. Dumbledore is dead, you killed him.” footsteps echo against the wood as she approaches Snape, noticing his expression change at the mention of the headmaster. “He will be plotting his next move. We need to remain focused--I expect his attention will be on us more now given the circumstances.”

Snape knows she’s right. Killing Albus only shined a spotlight on him, and in turn on Y/n. He was now labeled public enemy #1 in the eyes of the Order. Voldemort himself will likely turn to Snape. They will have to up their game, continuing the act of a happy couple. Well happy as one can be in the middle of a war.

That summer was endless torture following the Headmaster’s death. Y/n not only had to deal with Voldemort growing stronger, but also the return of Lucius from Azkaban. It did bring the witch great joy to see the dark circles beneath his eyes and matted hair. One year in prison did a number on him.

Lucky for Lucius it was only one year. Had it been 15 like Y/n, he’d surely gone mad. Thankfully the two rarely saw each other. Not long after his release following Dumbledore’s death Y/n moved into Severus' home. Only returning to the mansion when necessary.

At every Death Eater meeting Y/n had to fight yawning with how bored she was, keeping her expression blank even when addressed by Voldermort from time to time. The man wasn’t blind. Well aware the youngest Black was not as forthcoming with her praises to him like Bellatrix. Never voicing her opinions, while also keeping any objections to herself like a smart person would do. He never fully trusted her. Even though she was married to one of his most trusted advisors, something in the back of his mind told Voldemort she’d be the first to turn on him. Without proof, Voldemort kept a close eye.

The meeting tonight was just like any other. Seated at the massive dining table in Malfoy Manor, Voldemort at the head while the Black’s and Malfoy’s flanked to the right. Y/n seated beside Draco, far from her sisters. Very telling of her attitude towards them.

Severus was the last to arrive, dark cloak tailing behind him. His entrance caught everyone’s attention, while his was on his colleague hanging in the air. Muggle studies professor Charity Burbage. The wounds on her body indicated she had been subjected to torture.

“Severus,” Voldemort greeted, “I was beginning to worry you had lost your way. Come. We’ve saved you a seat.” The headmaster took claim to the only free chair at the table, bidding a look to his wife, to which she slightly shook her head. Silently saying, “I had no part in this.”

Voldemort then said, “Do you bring news, I trust?”

“It will happen Saturday next, at nightfall.”

“I’ve heard differently, my Lord,” Yaxley interrupted at the other end of the table, then proceeds to say he believes Harry will be moved at the end of the month. The 30th of July. The day before his 17th birthday.

“This is a false trail,” Snape insists. “The auror office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter. “Those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the ministry.”

The Death Eater seated beside Y/n laughed, “Well, they got that right aren’t they.” Several at the table joined in the laughter. The youngest Black’s expression was tight, plastered with annoyance.

“What’s say you, Pius?” Voldemort addresses the man seated at the opposite head of the table.

Nagini curled herself next to the chair as he answered, “One hears many things, my Lord. Whether the truth is among them is not clear.” Voldemort chuckles.

“Spoken like a true politician. You will, I think, prove most useful, Pius.” The Death Eater appears pleased by the compliment. Voldemort turns back to Snape, “Where will he be taken, the boy?”

“To a safe house. Most likely the home of someone in the Order. I’m told it’s been given every manner of protection possible, once there it will be impractical to attack him.”

Suddenly the conversation is interrupted by Bellatrix. “My Lord, I’d like to volunteer myself for this task.” She leans against the table, voice dropping, “I want to kill the boy.”

“Of course you would,” Y/n thinks to herself, holding back the urge to roll her eyes. Frankly she found her sister to be stupid to ask such a thing. Considering Voldemort mentions his desire to kill Harry Potter everyday. And with the prophecy, there’s no way he’d allow anyone else the opportunity to do the deed.

In the back, Charity let out a haunting groan, causing Voldermort to shout, “Wormtail! Have I not spoken to you about keeping our guest’s quiet?”

“Yes, my Lord,” the man spoke with urgency. “Right away, my Lord.” As he scurried off, Voldemort returned his attention to Bellatrix.

“As inspiring as I find your bloodlust, Bellatrix,” the hope was clear in her eyes, disappearing with his next words. “I must be the one to kill Harry Potter.” With that she curled back into her seat, Y/n’s lips raising in a satisfied smirk.

“But,” he rises from his chair, “I face an unfortunate complication.” As much as Y/n wanted to tune out this conversation, the nature of it was hard to dismiss. Especiall when the man walked behind the chairs on her side of the table. Brushing past her sisters before ending beside Lucius. There was satisfaction seeing him visibly afraid of Voldemort. A smirk on her lips when he was to give up his wand, a wizard’s most prized possession.

Her expression shifted when Charity’s brought to the center of the table. Death Eaters laughing at her despair and cringing with disgust at her profession. Y/n moves her gaze to Severus, who’s emotionless to Charity’s pleas. Then when the woman’s killed and her body drops to the table, Y/n lifts her hand to grasp Draco’s wrist. Squeezing it in warning for him to control himself when she sees his distraught state in the corner of her eyes.

The action surprises the boy. Draco sucking in a breath and forcing himself to relax. Once he does, Y/n removes her touch and waits to be dismissed by Voldemort. As soon as the order is given she’s quick to leave the table, taking Snape’s outstretched hand where he apparates them back home.

“How do you plan--?” he doesn’t let her finish the question.

“I have it covered.” Moving to his study, he hears her footsteps behind him, Y/n slamming the door shut once they’ve entered. He looked annoyed, “This doesn’t concern you.”

“The hell it does!” she shouted, making him clench his jaw. Ever since the incident at the Astronomy tower the two had been on edge with each other. For one, the Order discovered their marriage causing Y/n to lose her shit. Now she was public enemy #2 in their eyes. Or 3 if you count Voldermort at the top. Her odds of the Order leaving her the fuck alone decreased immensly.

Second, Snape told her of his and Dumbledore’s arrangement. That the headmaster asked Snape to kill him. A secret Y/n had trouble wrapping her head around and prayed to a higher power no one, especially Bellatrix, found out about.

Crossing over to him where he stood at his desk, Y/n caught his wrist to make him look at her. “In case you have forgotten, dear husband, we are playing both sides right now. You say you want to protect Harry Potter…just how do you plan to do that during an ambush you helped orchestrate? What the hell are we supposed to do if Harry Potter dies at his hands Saturday next?” Y/n squeezed his wrist tighter, “I’m putting all my trust into Severus Snape. You promised me my freedom when this was all over.”

“I haven’t forgotten, Y/n,” he removes himself from her grip, “You say you trust me. Do so, and you won’t be let down.”

Y/n didn’t know where it all went wrong. One moment she was flying in the sky, the next she’s being rammed into by Bill Weasley’s Thestral. Pain erupted in her chest, likely from a broken rib and caught herself on the creature's satchel. Her hand is then grabbed by the imposter Harry seated behind Bill, keeping Y/n steady to prevent falling to her death. Using her talent of legitimins, Y/n identifies the imposter as Bill’s fiance Fluer.

“You’re not Harry Potter,” she whispers, causing Harry (Fluer) to widen her eyes. The accusation was confirmed when Fluer’s voice responded, “How did you know?” Before Y/n could answer, however, the world around her became black. Having been stunned by Bill who realized what was happening behind him.

Acting fast, Fluer reached with her other hand to further grasp Y/n’s now limp body onto the Thestral.

“What are you doing?” Bill shouted over the chaos, “She’s one of them!”

“And she saved your life in the Astronomy tower, William!” Fluer screamed back. Using all her might, she hauled Y/n over the bottom half of the creature. Gripping the material of her robes and dress while ducking at the incoming curses around them.

When they finally made it to the Burrow, the shaky landing caused Fluer to lose her hold. Y/n fell to the ground, still unconscious. Bruises were sure to form on her body. Bill leaped off the Thestral, helped Fluer off and rushed to Y/n. After confirming she was alive by pressing his fingers to her pulse, the oldest Weasley took the death eater into his arms and followed Fluer into the house. But not before telling Fluer to take her wand which had been discarded into a ditch.

“Wait here,” he said, placing Y/n in the care of Fluer by setting her on a bench outside the door, Bill entered to find the others gathered around an injured George. After the shock wore off of his brother’s state, Bill announced the death of Mad-eye and departure of Mundungus. Deepening the already intense mood.

“There’s something else,” he hesitated, eyes flickering to find everyone staring at him with unease. They watched Bill exit the house, only to return a second later dragging the last person they ever expected. Gasps rang out, wands drawn in Y/n’s direction. The witch barely conscious but fighting against Bill’s hold. Eventually succumbing to sleep once again due to the pounding in her head.

With the help of Remus, the two propped Y/n in a chair, casting a spell to bind her hands and legs. “Where’s her wand?” Remus urgently looked around, relieved to see the object in Fluer’s possession. He turned to Bill, “What the hell happened?”

As the oldest Weasley explained, Molly approached the woman, assessing her carefully. Y/n had dirt and grime in her hair. A small cut to her temple. Likely from a rock when she fell from the Threstral. Her breathing was shaky, pained groans escaping her mouth which Molly assumed was from trauma to her chest. Although the others were against it, Molly began performing healing spells on Y/n, “Had it not been for her my son would be dead! I do not care what side she is on--I shall offer the same courtesy.”

The group was alerted to Y/n’s consciousness twenty minutes later when she groaned. Shifting in the chair, her eyelids fluttered briefly before opening to bright lights. Moaning, Y/n straightened up aware of the audience in front of her, however she did not appear concerned. Even with several wands pointing at her. “Hmmmph,” she blinks a few times, settling her gaze on Remus, “what an unpleasant situation we have here. I hoped to be dead before experiencing this.”

It pained Remus to hear her words. Thinking back to that little girl he’d met on the corner of Diagon Alley with James, perched on Sirius’ hip. That little girl was gone. In her place was a woman with the Devil on her shoulder. “We don’t want to hurt you, Y/n.”

Tilting her head as though she found his statement funny, she replies “Is that supposed to make me feel at ease?” rolling her eyes she adds, “Surely you could’ve come up with something better.”

Remus sighed, realizing it was about to be a long night. “We’re willing to negotiate terms if you provide us with information. A lesser sentence if you will,” he chose his next words carefully, seeing her demenor shift, “so long as you are upfront and answer all of our questions with honesty.” Y/n’s face tightened, no longer humored. Remus felt his stomach lurch, not breaking the intense eye contact she set with him.

“You threaten me--.”

“It’s not a threat--,” he insists but Y/n continues.

“With a cell in Azkaban and expect me to comply? By being a snitch?” she shakes her head, eyes full of fury. “Go to hell, Remus Lupin.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Oh?” She grumbles with a glare, “and how else do you suggest it be? I’m not stupid--a tad mad if we want to get technical, but you all have yourselves to blame for that.” Y/n was referring to the Order not taking her in during the First Wizarding War. Sirius warned them of his family and the Death Eaters recruiting her at a young age. Yet no attempt to protect Y/n was initiated.

The werewolf’s face fell, “Had we known--.”

“Known what?!” She jumped forward in her chair as the dam of pent up resentment and anger broke, making several flinch at the sudden movement. A few wands pointed up but she paid them no mind. “That I’d become a Death Eater against my will? That I’d be forced to use the Cruciatus Curse on the Longbottoms or face my sister’s wrath?” She spat with ferocity. Pupils nearly pitch black it made her appear demonic. “You knew what my family was like! Sirius knew--It’s why he left! And you did nothing to save me.” Leaning back in the chair, Y/n finished with, “Go ahead and kill me. I’m not telling you shit.”

Remus runs a hand through his hair, his patience running thin and stress levels rising. “Y/n, I’m trying to help you here. We’re giving you the opportunity to avoid a lifetime in jail if you help us--help us end this war.” When his efforts are exhausted Remus gestures to the man behind him, “Kingsley has Veritaserum and we will use it if necessary.” Now this has her smirking, chin raising in challenge.

“Go ahead,” her voice lowers an octave, sending chills along his arms, “I welcome you to.” Weary of her acceptance, the adult members of the Order all exchange looks before Kingsley approaches. Y/n tilts her head back, watching Kingsley unscrew the vial and pour the tiny amount of liquid onto her tongue. Once it’s entered her stream, the woman cracks her neck and returns her attention to Remus.

He clasped his hands in his lap, leaning in his chair. “How’d you know about tonight?”

Y/n pretends to think, “I think I saw an advertisement in the Daily Prophet. Yeah,” she nods her head, acting serious. “That was it.”

Remus’s own head falls to his chest, the others visibly confused. The potion was to make her tell the truth. Pretty much against her will. Thinking it may have not settled in yet, Remus asks another question. “Who told him we were moving Harry?”

Deciding to play along, Y/n shrugs her shoulders, “Yaxley.” Lie. She held back a chuckle at his confused reaction.

“How did he know?”

“Overheard it.” Lie.

“Where?”

“Diagon Alley I assume.” Lie.

“From who?”

“I don’t know.” Lie.

“But he’s the one who told Voldemort.” Y/n rolled her eyes at that, gesturing to her binded hands.

“Obviously since we’re sitting in this predicament.” She sees the frustration on Remus, as well as the others. Yet, the witch couldn’t help but feel entertained. “Anything else?”

“What’s your relationship to Severus Snape?”

“He’s my husband,” She didn’t miss the way the Order reacted to the news. Upset but not surprised. No point in lying. They already knew about their marriage from what Snape told her. The truth of why, however, was still a secret.

“Why did he kill Dumbledore?” Harry stepped forward, drawing her attention to him. Anger was written all over his face. Filled with absolute hatred. Something Y/n had expected when her husband murdered the man he looked up to.

“You were there, right?” she asked, head tilting with curiosity. “Snape mentioned you’d been below the observatory deck.” Tsking, Y/n surveyed him. She was getting under his skin. “Why do you think he did it?”

“I think he did it to save himself. He was a coward,” Harry saw the way her face tightened. Taking offense to his words. A mere speck of what someone could label as affection or respect to her spouse.

“Severus Snape is many things,” she sounded sinister, anger seeping off every word. “But a coward is not one of them.”

“Fat lot of good coming from you.” Harry antagonized her. “You hightailed it out of the ministry when Sirius died. He was your own cousin.”

“My cousin who left me a sitting duck for the wolves,” Y/n reminded the boy, temper rising. An indicator with how her voice was strained. “Let’s not forget you all thought he was responsible for betraying your parents. Didn’t even hesitate to believe he was guilty.” That cut them all deep. “And I adored Sirius at one point in life. Much like you, Harry Potter,” she let out a deep sigh, attempting to calm herself, “look at where it got me.” Exhaustion was beginning to take over the witch. Her body ached and there was a pounding in her head. Molly’s healing spells worked to patch any internal injuries Y/n had, but she still was drained from the whole ordeal.

They were getting off track. Having had enough of the tension, Remus butted in, “Answer the question, Y/n. Why did Snape kill Dumbledore?”

“I don’t know,” she simply stated. Lie. “He didn’t say. Although…I can only assume it was to spare my poor nephew.” Another shrug, “And survive the unbreakable vow. Which you already know of.”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t believe you.” His gut was telling him there was more to the story.

“Harry, she took the Veritaserum,” Hermoine pointed out gently, missing the flicker of amusement from Y/n. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Hermoine’s right, Harry,” Ron agreed, moving beside his friend. “There’s no way she could be lying.”

“How much did you give her, Kingsley?” Arthur questioned, also suspicious of Y/n’s answers. Kingsley held up the vial. More than half was consumed.

“Enough.”

“Something’s off,” he murmured, rubbing his chin. A bickering match ensued between members of the Order. Harry, Arthur, and even Y/n’s niece, Tonks, had difficulty believing Y/n told the truth. The majority, however, voiced opposition.

“Veritaserum is a very potent and strong potion, Harry,” Remus stood from his chair, but before he could say anything else, Y/n’s voice took over.

“Which you just wasted.”

Silence consumes the room. Processing what she said. That’s not possible.

Heads turning to the witch, Y/n starts to chuckle in delight. A sight unnerving to the Order as it becomes more deranged. Harry looked to his friends for an answer, but they were just as perplexed as him. Y/n’s voice turns taunting, “Oh my, you lot really are daft at times. Have you forgotten? Or did you believe it to be a rumor?” Her grin is wicked, finding the scene entertaining much to their dismay. “I’m a skilled Occulmens.”

It was as though the dementors arrived with how cold the air became. Everyone falters, stilling at the revelation. It could only mean one thing:

Everything Y/n said potentially was a lie.

The Death Eater tsked, “What do you think I did with all that time I had rotting in the middle of the ocean?” she laughs again, more menacingly. “Your little potion is useless! My mind is more protected than Azkaban. For all you know I fabricated everything I just told you.” Her taunting laugh continues, shredding the last ounce of patience the Order had for her.

Remus kneeled in front of her chair and smacked the table, causing everyone besides Y/n to flinch. “Enough of these games! I have tried to give you the benefit of the doubt knowing you’d been forced into this life, but you have proven to be not so different from your associates.” Now that was a nail to the coffin. Any and all of Remus’s hope for Y/n having some level of good in her gone. “This is your final warning--or we will throw you in Azkaban for the rest of your life for good!”

Never straying her stare, the Death Eater murmered cooly, “You have no idea how reasonable I’ve been.” This time it was Remus’s turn to scoff.

“Holding children hostage at the Ministry, attacking Hogwarts, marrying Snape, and sending assassins after the officials who locked you up,” He lists off, surprising the Order with the last detail. They had heard rumors of Azkaban guards and Ministry officials killed in the last few months, but assumed it was Bellatrix. “I don’t see how that’s being reasonable.”

Y/n gave a sound that was a mix of a chuckle and scoff, leaning forward in her chair. “Sending those assassins after them instead of myself was mercy.” A chill rose, Harry’s intuition telling him something was about to happen. “And despite your hypocrises and insults I have warned you time and time again to simply get out of my way.” Remus saw her hands fidget, tightening his grip on his wand.

“You’ve exhausted my patience,” Her voice lowered once more, almost to a whisper as her bottom lip quivered. “But I do hope you understand…that even now--with what’s about to happen…..” lips curled into a deathly smirk. “This is me being…reasonable.”

Faster than the speed of light, Y/n casts a non-verble, wandless spell that mimics a gust a powerful wind, ripping the binds off her hands and ankles. Remus flies onto his back, the lights flicker and burst. The windows and glass shatter. Papers fly. Hermoine screams, echoing amongst the shouts as Ron pulls her into his arms. Molly leaning over an injured George to protect him from shards.

Fluer gasps at the feeling of Y/n’s wand in her hand ripped from her. The death eater had snapped her fingers in the chaos with a non-verbal Accio.

With her wand now in her possession, Y/n unleashes another bout of wind, crippling the Order from attacking her. Once satisfied she makes her escape. Black smoke fills the room before flying out the window and into the night sky. The storm inside the burrow seizing.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron coughs, catching his breath.

“That,” Kingsley stands up straight, sore from colliding with the wall which knocked him down. “Was the closest thing to experiencing the Devil on Earth.”

Tags: @unloved-and-outspoken

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acupofqueercoffee · 5 months ago

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“Everywhere I go leads me back to you”

Farah Dowling x Female Specialist Reader

wc : 3000+

cw : smoking cigarettes // soulmate identifying marks // not actually unrequited love but kind of an ambiguous ending

i’m currently in my eve best brain-rot era and this is just a little something to blow off steam before i continue brainstorming for rhaenys. there is an awful lack of rhaenys x female reader stories, so if you are in need of some just like i am, you can come yell your ideas at me. farah breadcrumbs are welcomed too 🤲🏻

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There is a terrible ache dancing along your legs, pain faintly pulsing across the plane of your back. Behind the security of your palm shielding the unruly breeze, the cigarette which hangs between your lips is ignited by a spark from the lighter, made only brighter by a breath that you subsequently inhale. It burns your throat, but in a way that you are well accustomed to unlike the vexing agony that has found home on your body as of late.

This sensation, one that breeds irritation, is nothing akin to the pleasant soreness that you are used to feeling after every training session during your time in the Solarian Army. While, in the past, you go to bed satisfied despite your aching limbs, an indication to a day purposefully spent, now you brood over the state of your body. It is, after all, one of the telltale signs that you are not in your pristine condition, which has also brought you to once again roam these grounds that you have so intimately known and walked to begin with.

Getting severely maimed during a mission has led to you getting temporarily dismissed from your duties. Rather than taking leave as is suggested to you, you have instead requested to be sent to Alfea, your former school, to both recuperate and share your combat expertise with the students as a temporary instructor, not being entirely too thrilled at the idea of wallowing in bed-rest after days of rigorous trainings to hone your skills, or perhaps if you are to be unabashedly honest, out of a profound yearning of your heart.

A chuckle bubbles in your chest, bitter, tinged with self-mockery. It is with an exhale of breath that you distract yourself, expelling the uninvited thoughts along with a cloud of smoke that escapes through your nose, through the crack of your lips, and they swirl around your head. After taking a final, languid drag of the cigarette, you toss it to the ground, effectively dousing it with the heel of your boot.

You are in desperate need of a drink, preferably alcoholic, but given that work is in progress, not to mention a class that you have to supervise alongside Headmaster Silva at hand, you opt for something less strong. About a couple of minutes later, you find yourself in the staff lounge. With professors busy at this time of day teaching their respective classes, the room is empty, and you walk to the counter to brew yourself a nice, hot cup of coffee.

The aroma of freshly ground beans is rich, but richer still is the perfumed air that pleasantly tickles your nose. It smells of books, of sunny afternoons, of jasmines in full bloom, of a love left buried.

“You reek of cigarettes.”

At the familiar voice, amused rather than displeased, that spreads over you like a warm blanket, you cannot help but let loose a little grin, recalling many a time during your school years when you have suffered an earful from the woman herself for your misbehaviours.

“If you’re going to reprimand me for it, you should have known better by now, Headmistress, that it’s no use trying.”

“Even the mountains will eventually crumble, will they not?”

Amusement tugs on one corner of Headmistress Dowling’s lips by the time you turn to face her. She gestures to you with a small tilt of her head. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

“Coffee? I just brewed some.”

“Please.”

After pouring the freshly-brewed coffee into two porcelain cups, you put sugar and a splash of milk into one cup while keeping the other black. You carry them to where the Headmistress has seated herself on a nearby couch, handing the sweetened one to her.

“Here it is, my lady.” Your playfulness earns you an eye roll. “A cube of sugar and a splash of milk if I remember correctly.”

With a delicacy that you are sure only she possesses, she cradles the cup in her hands with a whispered “Thanks.”

“You remember correctly.” A blossom of a smile grows on her lips, beautiful and dizzying, but the soft tummy-butterflies inducing moment is abruptly eclipsed by the pain that suddenly flares across you ribcage.

Try as you may, you fail to rein in your emotions it seems, for one moment, the mind fairy is sitting, and the next, she is on her feet, the cup hastily discarded on the table. Her hands are poised to steady you should you falter on your feet. You stop her with a gesture of a hand, a chuckle freed from your throat as a sorry excuse of a reassurance. Although unconvinced, she makes no further moves, says nothing, only quietly observing you with her eyes as you move to sit on the other side of the couch. She retakes her seat.

“How are you finding your new job so far?”

“It’s…different. Slower than what I’m used to in the army. But the students are eager to learn and-” You take a sip of your coffee, chance a glance at her, and see that she is taking a delicate sip from her own cup. “-it’s good to be back here.”

As much as you like to believe that the last part of your confession is the product of it, the more logical part of you argue that it is the mention of her students that has her wearing a ghost of a smile, pleased.

“They are, aren’t they? And they’re fortunate to have someone with your experience as their instructor.”

After a beat, she adds. “And…how are you faring?”

The question has you hesitating for a moment, not wanting to appear weak, but nothing will come of lying to a mind fairy, much less someone who bears your name, the mark of your soul on her body.

“Recovering. Slowly. But it’s hard to stay still after being on the front lines.”

“I understand. Sometimes the hardest battles are the ones we fight within ourselves.”

Her face is unreadable, a masterful deceit, but you suspect there are hidden depths to her words.

“Last I recall, you weren’t a fan of coffee.”

It is with her own words that you begin your response. “You recall correctly, but many a white night has left me relying on it. And I’ve grown rather fond of its company.”

She levels you with a reproachful lift of a brow.

“You consume coffee, black I might add, because you can’t sleep? Aren’t you going around in circles?”

“I need it to keep me alert. Also, in case you forgot, I’m no longer your student, Headmistress.” Your reply comes out more venomous than you have intended it to, years of bottled up emotions suddenly coming to a boil.

“That doesn’t mean I’ve cared for you any less.”

Although the confession is but a murmured breath, the force of it is colossal against you, filling your mind with what-ifs upon what-ifs. With an exhale and a squeeze of your eyes, you hurriedly stand, a string of words fleeing your lips as you leave the room in a haste.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach.”

The brain may forget but the heart always remembers. She has eyes the colour of rich honey, brown at first sight but drenched in sunlight, swirls of greens and specks of oranges dance and mingle, a beautiful, enchanting lake that makes you want to drown in it. Although she carries herself with an authority as befits a Headmistress, her students matter to her above all else. She cherishes her job to a fault, so much so that once upon a time, she has simply dismissed the soul tie that you share without so much as batting an eyelid.

The class passes in a blur. You guide, you demonstrate, you regale them with tales of your battles all the while drowning in your own memories. Even as the last class of the day is dismissed and dusk sets in, you remain on the training grounds, practicing, fighting imaginary opponents, in hopes of giving your mind something else to focus on, which you find to be failing miserably.

From the very first moment you have met her all those years ago on your first day of school, there has been an inexplicable connection, a feather-light touch of magic that softly caresses your skin. “Sup.” has been your very first words to her, admittedly not the most ideal greeting of a new student to her Headmistress. A look is all she gives you, unimpressed, understandably so, and given that your class is mainly supervised by Headmaster Silva, you seldom cross paths with her after that. On rare occasions when you do cross paths however, despite your greetings, she refuses to acknowledge you as though you are invisible to her.

And finally, finally, when she decides you worthy enough to grace you with her words, it has been to scold you. On that fateful day, you have been standing on the sidelines as two of your classmates are locked in a fight on the platform. It just so happens to be one of those days where Headmistress Dowling is present on the training grounds to spectate the progress of the students.

When a dagger has flown astray from the middle of the fight, it aims at one person, who at present has her back to the imminent threat, trapped in a conversation with Headmaster Silva, you realise in trepidation. Without thinking, you leap, an arm darting out to catch the weapon in your hand. Inwardly, you marvel at your own reflexes, finding it hard to believe that you have stopped a weapon with your bare hand, albeit not without consequences. With your palm cut open, blood has oozed, and the thick liquid drips down your wrist.

The close proximity of the Headmistress to you is felt in that spine-tingling, knee-weakening way, and smelt in the fragrant wind, before her voice finally reaches your ear in the form of your name. The pleasant surprise that takes hold of you at her knowledge of your name is quickly overshadowed by annoyance at the tone of her voice, equally as annoyed, her displeasure apparent on the hardened plane of her face once you turn to greet her.

“A thank you would be nice. I just saved you after all.”

“Which was utterly unnecessary I might add. Don’t mistake recklessness for courage.”

Ouch! That hurts. Even more so than the dagger’s mark that has permanently found home on your body.

“Greenhouse, at once.”

It is amidst getting your wound treated that you notice something that has not been on your skin before. On the delicate flesh of your wrist appears a name in a beautiful cursive. Farah, it reads, but judging by the reaction of the earth fairy before you, unfazed and composed, you reckon that this must be for your eyes only.

No sooner have you had your wound properly dressed than you are seeking out Farah, determined to confront the reality of your bond. You find her in her office, standing by the window, looking out over the grounds.

“Headmistress,” you say, stepping inside. “We need to talk.”

She turns to face you, her expression a mask of cool detachment. “There's nothing to discuss.”

“How can you say that?” You have demanded, stepping closer. “We both know what those marks mean.”

Farah sighs, closing her eyes for a moment before meeting your gaze. “The revelation changes nothing. I do not own you. Don’t let mere words bind you to me. I’m only your headmistress and you are merely my student. And that is where this ends.”

Her words cut deep, but you refuse to back down. “Farah, you can't just ignore this. It's not just about words or marks. It's about what we feel.”

“What you feel,” she has corrected you, her voice firm. “I am responsible for the safety and education of all my students. I cannot afford to let personal feelings interfere.” And in that no-nonsense way, she adds, “Also, it’s Headmistress Dowling to you.”

With a shake of your head, frustration and hurt well up inside you. “It's more than that, Headmistress and you know it. We have a connection, something real and undeniable. Why are you so afraid of it?”

For a moment, you see softness in her eyes, revealing a flicker of the pain she is trying so hard to hide, but it is gone as soon as it has come. “Because if I acknowledge it, everything changes. And I cannot allow that.”

“You're wrong,” It sounds unconvincing even to your own ears, but a desperate murmur. “Ignoring it won't make it go away. It just makes us both miserable.”

She turns away, her shoulders tense. “Go back to your training. Focus on becoming the best specialist you can be. That's what matters.”

You have stood there for a long moment, dared to entertain the fool’s dream in which she turns back, says something, anything to acknowledge the truth you both feel. But she has cut that little thread of hope by remaining silent, a statue of unyielding resolve.

Finally, you turn to leave, your heart heavy but your resolve unbroken. “This isn't over, Headmistress. Not by a long shot.”

So you have declared but deep down, you have always known that you are doomed to failure from the start. And before you know it, the graduation day dawns bright and clear upon Alfea, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside you.

Students and faculty have gathered on the grand lawn, the air filled with excitement and a tinge of sadness as friends prepare to part ways. Farah Dowling stands at the podium, her regal presence commanding attention as she addresses the graduates. You stand among your peers, listening to her speech but barely registering the words. Your heart is heavy with the decision you have made. Despite all your efforts, Farah has remained resolute in her stance, keeping the walls between you impenetrable.

As the ceremony eventually comes to an end bringing with it your inevitable departure, you have caught the Headmistress’s gaze from across the stage. Her eyes have lingered on you for a moment, a flicker of something unspoken passing between the two of you. Then she looks away, and the moment is no more.

In your dorm room, your belongings are packed and ready, each item a reminder of the years spent at Alfea, of the bonds formed and the love left unrequited. Your friends try to convince you to stay, to join them in their adventures, but you know that you are in desperate need of a fresh start, far from the memories that still haunt these halls.

So, with your bags slung over your shoulder, you make your way to the gates of Alfea. Behind you, the school stands in all her majestic glory, a place of learning and growth, and of heartache. You pause, taking a final glance, realising with a hint of melancholy that you are not only leaving a place that has been your home for three years but also a part of yourself behind.

You have not been expecting a farewell, one last goodbye, but there she is, standing tall and composed at the gates. A spellbinding beauty, you think stupidly.

Your name spills forth her lips, dainty and delicate in appearance, but you have not been given the chance, nor will you ever be allowed to find out how they feel against your own, a forbidden fruit. When she speaks, her voice is firm, genuine. “I wanted to wish you well in your future endeavours. You have been an exemplary student, and I have no doubt you will succeed in whatever path you choose.”

“Thank you, Headmistress. Alfea has been…” You pause, swallowing the lump in your throat. “everything to me.”

For a moment, she hesitates, then steps closer, lowering her voice to that excruciating, dizzying timbre. “I hope you find what you're looking for, wherever you go.”

You look into her eyes, searching for any sign of the connection you feel, but her walls are fiercely in place. With a heavy heart, you breathe. “Goodbye, Headmistress.”

By the time you turn to leave, once again, her voice halts you.

Your name leaves her lips in a soft murmur. You turn back, hope blossoming in your chest, only to have it crushed by her next words, both a gentle and a cruel finality to your fated encounter. “Take care of yourself.”

A sad smile spreads across your lips. “You too, Headmistress.”

With every step you take away from Alfea, and from her, a mixture of sorrow and determination burns in your chest. It is finally time to bury the past, to lock away the love you feel and move forward.

Months have passed as you travel, exploring new places and honing your skills. The pain of leaving Alfea and your beloved Headmistress, although duller than they use to, never truly vanish. You throw yourself into your new life, hell-bent on building something worthwhile.

One evening, in a small village nestled in a valley, you find yourself sitting by a tranquil river, the water reflecting the fading light of day. You trace the mark on your wrist, Farah’s name forever etched into your skin. Try as you may to lock away your feelings, the bond still remains, a silent testament to what could have been.

With a sigh, you close your eyes and let the cool breeze wash over you. The past is behind you, and while the future is uncertain, you know you have the strength to face it.

“Fuck, I should’ve never returned to these godforsaken grounds. So much for leaving the past behind!”

Presently, you curse aloud as you slash nothing but air with your twin blades, reenacting scenes from your battlefield. The efforts with which you have made to keep your feelings buried have been for naught, for in the end, in a moment of weakness, you have listened to your heart, and returned to where it longs to be the most.

By her side.

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#farah dowling #farah dowling x reader #eve best #fate winx saga #alfea #winx alfea #winx specialists #character x reader #soulmates #unrequited love #unrequited feelings #not really #brainstorming

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volturiprincess · 5 months ago

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Death Flower

Jane Volturi x Fem human mate

Summary: Jane contradicts a lot but a simple "my little death flower" and its all over.

A/N: I wanted to post this on May 31st since that marks half way to Halloween but I forgot about this WIP. I got some ideas brewing for when October comes around. Its short but anyways....Enjoy💙

__________________🥀____________________

“No”

“No? Why not?”

‘I said no and that is final, so stop pestering me on this”

“Come on my little death flower, let's not be like this”

She stopped walking away and stood on the spot. Here's the thing about being mates with Jane, yes she can be quite difficult to convince to do things, such as cuddling under our favorite open field, but I know a certain trick to persuade her. I noticed this a while ago, she was going to leave for a guard meeting that would start in 30 minutes, but she wanted to leave early but I wanted her to cuddle with me. She’s still not used to affection, which I understand, she took a month to even just hold my hand so I understand that and I respect her boundaries. But as she was getting ready to leave for her meeting I sleepily called out to her “My little storm cloud” and she halted her movements and was instantly in bed with her being the big spoon and I the little one.

I didn't dare to question her sudden change of mind but from that whenever I wanted to “get my way” with her I would casually call her some clever nicknames and she goes with my idea. I of course never call her out in front of the others, actually one time I called her my “little rain cloud” in front of Alec. He instantly looked at Jane and started teasing her and would call her the same nickname for days until Jane threatened to use her ability on him, that for sure shut him up. I promised to her that I would never call her said nicknames in front of others.

Jane also from what I can say is she doesn't like being called the traditional nicknames, once in a while I do call her darling or my love but it doesn't get the same reaction as when I call her my other nicknames. It's just so amusing to see her halt her every thought and movements when I call her such names, but what makes my heart flip is when she looks at me and you can see a very small smile spreading onto her angelic face.

“What is it that you wanted to do again?”

Oh man I got her so good, I almost feel bad in kind of manipulating her with my nicknames but man she always gets her way a majority of the time. She always gets the final say but I guess it does feel nice to finally be able to have a small win with her. And gosh that smile she does is so sweet, it's hard to imagine her being able to cause such pain with her gaze when she has such an angelic smile.

“Oh right, um I wanted you be my Morticia to my Gomez”

“But Halloween is not for another five months?”

“I know but that's going to be our couple costume”

“Hmm we will see”

“Come on Jane, it ill be perfect, I already treat you like you are the only person in my life, I even call you the nicknames that are very similar to what Gomez calls Morticia”

“I said we will see”

I know she likes the idea, she just won't admit it. I think she would make a beautiful Morticia, but in this case she will be a blonde Morticia. In no way will I make her wear a wig to cover her golden locks that I love so much. In my case I would be a female version of Gomez, I'm also at the point of convincing the others to be characters from “The Addams Family”. Felix will definitely be Lurch no doubt, but for some reason im stuck with the thought that Alec and Demetri would be a great Pugesly and Wednesday. They will be my next victims to convince them to go along with my crazy plan. I grabbed her hand to place a gentle slow kiss on it, I felt her literally melt at the touch.

“Fine we will do it, but you dare make me wear a wig I will have Alec use his smoke on you”

Shivering at her little “threat” which I know she will never do, she has said that many times in the past and has never once done it to me.

“I would never want to cover your blonde locks my dear thundercloud”

“...Good”

Being Jane’s mate has its downs but if you play your cards right it can have its perk.

#jane volturi #jane volturi x reader #the volturi guard #the volturi #twilight saga #twilight renaissance #twilight fanfiction #volturi #twilight oneshot #twilight imagine

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xq1zi · 2 months ago

Text

simple words

warnings: angst, badly written in my opinion, english not first language, and rushed.

word count: 1.9k

A/N: i did this in one sitting bc i had to get off my mind. but i couldn’t choose on how i wanted to end it T_T

it was known that you were friends with everyone. friendly with everyone. being the leafs sweetheart almost. but even a little more friendly with shikamaru nara. only being aware of your feelings two years ago during the time when naruto had gone away for training.

it was during a sleepover with the girls. the question had come up about crushes naturally. all were teasing hinata for still not being able to be in a 10 meter radius of naruto without passing out.

and how ino and sakura are still going at it for sasuke. but unfortunately tenten just happened to mention how you would prefer shikamaru’s presence than anyone else.

naturally you were denying these claims. how you act the same with everyone and how they are just seeing things. “[name] you really think that we are that blind? we all can tell that you have a thing for him.” sakura pointed out.

“right. you couldn’t be more obvious then hinata. no offense hinata.” ino added on.

“none taken.” hinata spoke softly as always.

“i think you should make a move [name]. i don’t see anyone else competing with you.” tenten teased. “guys stop it i don’t have a crush on him or anyone else! it never even crossed my mind!” the feeling of blood rushing to your cheeks.

now that fact has crossed your mind. it seems like your cheeks even reddened more. liking the possibility of being with him. ‘i do i actually like him?’ you thought.

“based on how your face is red as a tomato, i think you do have a crush on him. no way you had a crush on him without knowing.” the teasing only began from ino.

sakura joined in only to say how could you like someone who’s so lazy. but he wasn't, he was a hard thinker. and a good person. luckily they calmed down and you learned on how to be more aware about your relationship with him.

preparation for the chunin exams have begun. and with the newly bloomed relationship with the sand village. and with that temari came to help. with that shikamaru was appointed to be her escort.

you could tell they have a different relationship. it was almost like they were more comfortable with each other. he claimed it was a drag and he didn’t like doing it. but secretly you had a feeling you just couldn’t ignore. especially the rumors.

it gotten worse each day. how they looked and acted like a old married couple. ‘how annoying.’ as soon as that thought came you stopped it. ‘no way am i jealous? this isn’t like me…’

these feelings are only brewing more and more. one day you asked shikamaru if he wanted to hang out.

“so shika what do you say? we haven’t hung out in a while?!” you said excitedly.

“nah, sorry can’t. i have to escort temari again. this is starting to be a real drag.” he groaned.

“oh.. well i can help you or something? you know like keep you company!”

“too much company in my opinion. women can be such a drag.” typical response. but it still hurts a bit. “oh okay next time then.”

he walked away while waving from behind. wasn't the first time he rejected your proposal. you would often do a little pleading with him. but this time it’s different. it's for a girl that he’s rejecting you. but it’s his job right? to keep her safe while here. not like he want that time to be alone with her.

now shikamaru was no idiot he could tell you were drawn to him more but merely brushed it off. girl and boys can be just friends too. when naruto had come back he walked with him alongside temari and sakura. after leaving the hokage building. naruto hinted at the idea of him and temari he also said something else.

“you know shikamaru i would always thought you would end up with [name] seeing how she was always close to you.” naruto blurted out.

“shut up you idiot. i’m not with anyone, nor am i going to be.” he said right back.

“yeah as if i would ever be with him.” temari almost grossed out of the idea.

he can’t lie that he enjoys temari’s presence. it was different. without both of them knowing they do some friendly flirting.

lady tsunade sent you on a mission alone C level nothing you can’t handle on your own. you had heard some voices coming. once they became more clear it was them. shikamaru and temari in pure panic you hid up in a tree. he never walked her this far; he always left her at the village entrance.

“so you have a little girlfriend. is that right?” she teased.

“huh? what are you talking about.” he raised an eyebrow.

“naruto was talking about how [name] is so close to you. and always with you.” she elaborated.

“she more like a clingy friend than anything else. a nice friend but extremely clingy in my opinion.” did you hear that right? are you sure you aren’t imagining it?

“aw come on, don't be like that, she's nice. she probably just has a crush on you.”

“yeah, yeah whatever. bye see you.” he didn’t want to continue the conversation so he left.

“see you soon!” she yelled as he walked away.

you stood in place. clingy? is that how he saw you. that’s the equivalent of being annoying. were you annoying? you know how he didn’t like people who were annoying. he likes to be at peace. your mind being sent into a mental overdrive. seemingly almost forgetting that you were being sent on a mission.

the whole time being sent on your mission his words repeating in your mind. your soul was crushed. someone who you thought had a good relationship with. only thinks you're clingy. heartbroken was an understatement. what if others would agree? were you actually clingy?

‘i have to stop thinking this is getting out of control.’ you thought. and with that you completely shut off the rest of the time and not think about it. when coming back it felt like a fever dream.

not to mention what happened in the sand village when you were gone. sakura fills you in on what happened. shocking as it was if you were being honest that wasn’t your main concern. now being self aware of how you acted, you made sure you toned it down a bit. sakura invited you to a dinner that everyone is coming to.

when dinner time came you went to the restaurant where dinner was taking place. you greeted everyone, sitting down and the night began. you kept your answers nice and short.

nothing too complicated. sat between naruto and lee you didn’t have to say much. but having shikamaru across from you your nerves never seemed to calm down. having to be painfully aware of a reality that you just didn’t want to face.

“i think i'm going to call it a night. i'm still tired from coming back.” you got up while making the announcement.

as you were walking out ino nudged shikamaru to walk you home like he has always done.

“hey!, i’ll walk you home.” he called out. you stopped. but not turning to face him.

“actually, there isn’t really a need. I'll be fine on my own but thank you.” you stated walking out.

he stood there confused and sat right back down. “damn shikamaru, whatcha do that got her upset? i don’t think i’ve seen her reject someone walking her home, even you.” kiba laughed as akamaru barked.

“you think something happened to her? i feel like something is upsetting her.” sakura said in a worried tone. “yes!, indeed! i feel as if something happened to [name] also!” lee agreed.

“i hope nothing happened to her while on her mission.” hinata spoke. “nah! [name] is a sweet person you know! with a strong mind no way a little C level mission can change something. right shikamaru.” naruto yelled while eating his food.

“yeah, no way something could’ve happened.” shikamaru reassured. neji agreed with him, the others were not so convinced. nonetheless didn’t think much of it.

days went by and you didn’t seem to revert back to your old self. everyone was concerned but you told them it was nothing to worry about.they were just imagining it.

you stopped hanging out with shikamaru as much. not like you think he actually mind that much. you say by yourself under a tree, and shikamaru seemingly popped out of nowhere.

“you women, you're such a drag.” he said, surprising you.

“what are you talking about shikamaru?” a dry but warm response. also using his full name. no nickname.

“what’s up with you. why are you being so weird. i’m getting dragged into this because everyone thinks i should talk with you.” he sat down just about 1 foot away from you.

“i honestly don’t know where you guys are getting this from but it’s getting annoying. i think you guys are imagining things” almost chuckling.

“stop the bullcrap. something’s bothering you. you haven't hung out with us as much anymore” what a serious tone he used.

“would you leave me if i told you? would you drop this and forget it.”

“yeah, i guess i would not sure about the others.” he put his arms up against the back of his head and laid back on the tree.

“fine then. more or less i got heartbroken by some guy and he told me something that made me aware of some things. there. happy now?” said with a defeated tone. if you were to go more into it you fear you would burst into tears.

“man, all of this over some dude. what a pain. he probably wasn’t worth it.”

“…” it was too much. you had overheard about how temari had broken down into shikamaru’s arms after almost losing her two brothers. villagers stating how they almost kissed.

how they went out to dinner and he never made her pay. new travels fast. not to mention how you overheard him to the guys saying he wouldn’t mind the idea of being married to her. when he was asked.

“don’t start thinking about how he was probably worth it.” he complained about the idea of you spouting nonsense about this “guy”.

“i won’t. he doesn’t even like me. he likes someone else. anyways you told me you would leave me alone.” you huffed. still acting like nothing personally wrong with the two of you.

“oh right, man this is over some guy? don’t be getting everyone worried like that.” he stood up.

“you don’t understand. you’re just a guy.” you playfully said with a hint of sadness. not only did he make you self conscious about how you act. and how annoying you could possibly be. a girl who has known him in less time has won him over.

“right, sure even then that’s too much work to even understand so i’ll let you be.” so he left. leaving you with your thoughts.

when he returned to report on the conversation to the rest of the girls, they had a feeling that “guy” was actually the person spilling all this information. they came to your house later that night. and eventually. you caved.

“he likes her. i can’t compete with her. he called me clingy?! i’m i really that clingy?? am i so annoying to him?” the tears went on for the night. nothing that others could say that would help.

unfortunately now you had your brain chemically altered. over just some simple words. and your unrequited love is nothing more than a mere empty fantasy.

heyy! hope this wasn’t a pain to read. i feel as tho this was badly written and rushed. lmk if it is then i’ll fix it!

#shikamaru x reader #shikamaru nara #naruto shikamaru #naruto #shikamaru angst #naruto x reader

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the-east-art · 1 month ago

Note

Oh, wait I think I misread the post. My apologizes, I thought that was in reference to those two clothing shop drama. Though I am willing to hear out the other indie clothing shops that you keep a eye on.

Alright! Easts' big post about indie clothing brands I like!

Worth noting that while I’ve been keeping my eye on a lot of these brands for a while now, there is a possibility there is some kind of discourse around them that I missed - if so please let me know so that I can look into it myself!

Mayakern!

I like Mayakern a lot because they cater a lot to plus size bodies! They have plus size models and Mayakern themselves is plus sized! Recently they’ve been expanding beyond skirts to things like dresses and shirts. This makes me very excited because not only are these shirts cute as heck, but some of them are even more standard/essential shirts but are made with bigger body types in mind. So often fat people have to just settle for good enough,but its clear that Mayakern makes her stuff so that anyone wearing it can be confident! There’s also ton of customer pics you can see to tell how clothing lays on various body types.

(Rest Under The Cut)

Umvvelt

Umvvelt focuses on fish/ocean themes and I absolutely love how creative they get - they’ve done a bunch of different fish lines focused on rays to jellyfish to sharks. I particularly adore their pinafores - I own three of them and they’re very comfortable AND have pockets.

Carmico

A classic - I think the brand that got me really invested in indie clothing brands? Carmico does themed drops a couple times a year where they design a myriad of clothing pieces that all have a similar vibe/theme. I think they do a good job at getting creative while still having the clothing be something I would wear! From button-ups to sweatpants to jackets Carmico has the variety and the style. A lot of their clothing gives the vibe of something you would draw on a character and wish existed in real life - except now it does exist in real life!

Morningwitch

Another classic, if you haven’t checked them out by now PLEASE do. Morningwitch has SUCH as eye for design and patterns and color. Chiefly known for their creative button up tops (of which I own several) they also have expanded quite a bit recently. Their skirts are probably my favorite style of all the skirts on this list because they have a thicker band. They also do some relief print shirts, the CUTEST jackets (if you’ve seen pics of brownies pomegranate jacket this is where they got it) and on their twitter they have a lot more fun stuff brewing. Much like Mayakern they’re starting to branch out beyond their ‘standard’ (the button up tees) into new avenues and I personally look forward to what that brings!

Knockthrice

This indie store blends concepts and casual wear together into something extraordinary. From their knight cardigans, to their ‘tea’-shirts, to their themed over-the-garden wall collections they have some of the most beautiful pieces you may ever see. Knockthrice does a great job at blending ideas into clothing in a creative way so make it something that I would wear in daily life. Their shirts are a good, durable, thick material - although maybe a little warm for the summer. A lot of their stuff gives me fall vibes, and as someone who loves fall the most out of all season - I eat it up!

Envygreen Manor

More of a newcomer on the scene as far as I am aware, envygreen manor also does themed drops once or twice a year. However, their clothing it usually more of a mix between casual tees and more formal elements - their vests or poet shirts come to mind. I instantly fell in love with them when I saw their mock-neck designs and felt like they somehow knew me and exactly the kind of shirt I would want from them.

Vetiverfox Apparel/Witch Vamp

Putting these two together because they kind of occupy the came part of my brain! They’re both skirt focused brands much like Mayakern. Vetiverfox typically has more intricate designs or patterns, while Witch Vamp usually has bolder themes - not that thats a hard rule or anything! I own I believe a skirt from each of them (soon to be two from vetiverfox!) and highly recommend at least taking a peak and seeing if anything catches your eye from either brand!

Mothsprout

Mothsprout only has a few clothing options, but I absolutely HAVE to mention them. Mothsprout has two muscle tank designs that I literally wear like once a week - I’ve actually considered getting a second of the wolf design just so I can wear it more often. Their designs vary from intricate to fun, and honestly I would never pass up a chance to wear their beautiful art as clothing.

Other indies I keep an eye on but don't have a lot to say about:

Motel777

Bison Wares

Snowlattes

Fiveboos

JeanaDraws

Howl Out

Bandaid Brigade

and if you have any other indie clothing brands you want added to the list lmk!

#the east speaks #clothing #list #indie clothing #indie clothing brands

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numinously-yours · 9 months ago

Text

Pick a pile: Where will you be in 3, 6, and 12 months?

Looking back at my poll from a couple of weeks ago, there were three topics tied for second place. One of them is this one: Where will you be in 3, 6, and 12 months?

For this reading, I looked at your current energy. If you're not sure which pile is for you, please feel free to read that part first! Then, I went through and provided insight on where you'll be/what you'll be focused on at the 3-month, 6-month, and 12-month increments of the next year. The write ups are a bit longer than usual, so I apologize in advance for pile 3 & 4 for having to scroll a bit longer lol

Current Energy: The Moon

At this current time, it feels like you are in an energy of “almost”. You have something in your mind that you think makes a good idea/proposal. Your gut tells you that you should go for it, but your anxiety is holding you back from taking the leap. You may be remembering a time in the past where you went for something big and it didn’t work out. You’re worried this may happen again and you don’t want to set yourself up for disappointment.

3 – Page of swords, Knight of cups

In three months time, you’re going to be on an enthusiastic, creative, and passionate adventure. There is something you are hoping to share with the world! In the months leading up to this, new ideas are going to be brewing. How can you best share your passion with others? What is a fun and new way to present your idea? Continue brainstorming these ideas and you’ll have a good basis of where to start when the time comes.

6 – Eight of wands

After a few more months of getting your idea up and running (6 mo. total) , you are really going to see movement and action. There may have been a few bumps along the way as you perfected the execution of your ideas above, but things seem to be smoothing out. I think that around this time, you’ll have a really solid foundation of where you want this project to go. As you see the rewards of your work, you may even want to begin expanding.

12 – Four of wands, Wheel of fortune

Finally, a year from now, you’re going to feel really fulfilled. What I love is that the wheel of fortune came up in this time frame specifically. The Wheel is about karma and life cycles – it makes me think that at this time next year you’re really going to feel like you’ve come full circle in whatever project you’ve just taken on. The four of wands is all about celebration, harmony, and relaxation. An amazing and overwhelming sense of “I did it!” is definitely coming through here. Congratulations on whatever you’re up to, pile 1. It’s going to be amazing 😊

Current energy - Knight of pentacles rev. and Seven of cups rev.

You are feeling a bit overwhelmed right now. Based on the cards that came out for your timeline, I think it likely has to do with your social circle/relationships. Maybe you’re the foundation of the group and you’re starting to become tired of being everyone’s support (like, actual exhaustion, not just “sick of it”) or you feel like you’re the one who is continually left out. You are trying to figure out what to do about it but feel stuck. I also can’t stop thinking that some of you are students – either graduating HS this year and starting college in the Fall, transferring schools, or starting a new career closely after graduation. This might not be all of you, but I was called to make that note.

3 – Three of cups reversed

You’re going to venture on your own pretty soon here, number two. Where the three of cups upright is about community, celebrating with friends, etc., the reversal indicates that you need some alone time. It’s okay if you don’t feel like you’re really clicking with your people anymore. Even though it can suck, you must do what is best for you. And I think that means seeing who you are, without the influence of others. There is a small indication of overindulgence, specifically when it comes to lifestyle changes. While it’s important to find yourself, please remember to do it smartly and healthily.

6 – Six of cups, page of cups

Taking the time to find yourself is going to bring you to your six-month point. At this point in time, I think you’re going to have a pretty good idea of who “you” are. You’re going to be more in tune with your intuition & higher self. You have a clearer idea of the future – or at least you are getting more and more comfortable with the unknown. Taking this time for yourself was really important and I’m happy that you’re going to do it. It is going to teach you the beauty of curiosity, it’s going to remind you that your inner child is still within you and deserves fun, and it’s going to teach you that the past is the past and the only way forward is continuing to move ahead.

12 – Ten of coins, The Devil

The main message from these two cards comes from the ten of coins. This next year is going to teach you SO much about yourself. At this time next year, you’ll look back feel like your personal journey was absolutely worth it. You feel more abundant and much more confident that your future ahead is bright. The Devil, I think, is here as another reminder to not get ahead of yourself or start to feel conceited because of your journey. You may feel tempted to rub your success in the faces of that social circle you left, but that is not going to be beneficial to you. Let your success make YOU happy. You can absolutely share the success, but not as a way to shame the others who had previously let you down.

Current Energy – The Emperor and Playday rev.

Playday is a specific card to this deck and, for some reason, there’s not any info on what the card was meant to represent. But hey, that’s all part of the tarot reading process! Since it came into reverse, my initial thought is that you haven’t had many opportunities to have playday. I asked the deck for a standard tarot card to clarify and the Emperor came out at that time. In your current energy, you feel an obligation to take of others and be a foundation for them. Some of you are likely parents or caretakers. Others feel like you have to be “the strong one”. In your eyes, there is no time for play because there is too much to be done and there are too many people who need you.

3 – Three of coins rev., Five of cups

I think it’s been your goal for some time to focus on self-care. And I think that you’re going to continue to try for the next three months. There is this sense that you wish others would take care of you for once, but you’re “stuck” taking care of yourself AND trying to take care of them at the same time. You wonder why you have to be on the journey of self-care alone. You might get to this three-month period and wonder what the point of self-care is if you don’t even feel better. I’m here to remind you that ANY progress in taking care of yourself is good progress! The fact that you are THINKING about how you deserve to be taken care of is a good thing! It means you know your worth. Unfortunately, I don’t think the three-month period is going to make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside but!! (see your six-month overview for more)

6 – The Chariot

Although the road to self-care has been HARD, you really WILL feel your rewards soon. By the six-month period, you’re going to feel some success. You’ll see that you have the willpower to take care of yourself instead of dropping everything to help everyone else, you’ll have the determination to hold your boundaries, and you’ll have the strength to remember that it only gets better from here. Boundary setting is coming out the strongest as the thing you’ll progress with the most. There will be tests that challenge this and sometimes the boundaries will come down, but you will more consistently BELIEVE you deserve the boundaries. It’s going to be an empowering time for you, group three! I’m just sorry it has to be the six month check point lol

12 – Five of swords rev., Ace of swords, Eight of swords (clarified by Sunrise, also a deck specific card!)

At this time next year, you’re going to be so proud of yourself. This makes my heart happy <3 There are still some times where people challenge your boundaries and try to take advantage of your genuine heart, but you’re finally at a point where you feel confident saying no. If/when this happens, you’ll reflect over this past year and see how far you’ve come. This will remind you of all of the hard work you did to get here and that it is not worth going back to feeling the way you did before (aka right now). You can ABSOLUTELY still be a person who provides a solid foundation for others, but not at the expense of yourself. Your mental state is going to feel soo much more clear. Each day you’ll realize something new about yourself, your needs, and how YOU can help yourself get there. This is really going to be a turning point in your mindset. AH I’m just so excited for you! Finally, with the eight of swords – I wanted to pull a clarifier because the eight usually represents negativity and victim mentality. I don’t think this will be your energy in a year. So, I pulled the Sunrise card. I think it’s AWESOME that you got 2/3 unique cards from this deck. This card is different than the Sun card, though, in my interpretation, it has a lot of the same energy. In the times that you feel guilty for setting your boundaries or taking care of yourself first, there will be a sunrise in the back of your mind. You will see the light of the rays and the warmth of this bright star. It will be a reminder that the sun always rises and it doesn’t mean you’re reverting back to your old tendencies to forget your own needs.

12 month column is ace of wands & moonlight ; apologies for the hard to read text. in retrospect, I shouldn't have picked that photo background.

Current energy: The Devil reversed.

Right now, you are going through a personal transformation. I bet there is a sense of unknown and you’re a bit resistant to that (consciously or not). The future is scary and not being able to plan for it doesn’t help the anxiety. However, you understand the importance of your transformation and are trying your best to optimistic of the outcome.

3 – The Hierophant, Temperance, and Four of cups

In three months, it looks like you’ll still be on the journey of self-discovery, but you’ll be a little more patient with not knowing. In the time leading up to this three-month mark, you’ll discover tools that help you remain present. You’ll do a lot of introspection which will allow you to feel more comfortable about still being in land of the unknown. Around the three-month mark, you’ll redirect your thoughts to a different pathway than you’re currently thinking. The four of cups represents meditation and re-evaluation of your situation. You may have a moment of panic feeling like you have to start over AGAIN, but the tools you’ve learned were meant to be learned so you could get through this. You KNOW you’re not starting over because you have new insights that weren’t even in your reality three months ago (aka now). You may start delving more into spirituality to help you on your journey. This could include going to church more often, researching new religions, picking up tarot, or simply continuing meditation to get a bigger understanding of the world around you.

6 – The Sun

By six months, you’re going to feel like the sun won’t stop shining. Even on the coldest days, you feel the warmth of the sun because you know you have a purpose. In the time between three months & six months, you’re going to figure something out. Something is going to click and it is going to propel you to work on something great. You’ll feel revitalized, group four, and I think it’s a feeling you’ve been looking for for awhile now. You’re going to inspire others with your newfound light. You’re going to feel confident expressing yourself (beliefs, needs, ideas, etc.). I’m really happy for you!

12 – Ace of wands, Moonlight (specific to this deck; different from The Moon)

This time next year will truly feel like a new beginning. The sun has set on this particular part of your journey and the moon is coming out to light the next path. While the moonlight is less bright than the sunlight, I think this card is here to represent that, no matter day or night, the universe is here to provide some light even in the darkness. As you look ahead to new opportunities, the unknown doesn’t scare you as much. You know the sun will always rise again and provide you clarity on your path. And you know based on this journey that you’ll always feel the sun’s warmth, no matter what part of the journey you’re on.

#tarot #free reading #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #manifestation #transformation #your future #don't forget that free will is always there!

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martinsharmony · 10 months ago

Text

In defense of RP Shipping and RP Fiction

I don’t normally come out and give my opinion on things like this so plainly about such controversial things. I tend to shy away from confrontational writing such as this. However this idea has been brewing in my mind for some time now so I had to write it.

I am a Real Person Shipper.

I’m seeing people talk a lot more about RP shipping (and the hate towards it) since David Tennant and Michael Sheen appeared smiling at each other in a photo after David's appearance in Macbeth.

RP Shipping is not a choice.

When I caught the shipping bug, it hit me like lightning. It occurred to me one night as I lay in bed next to the husband with which I had a deteriorating relationship: “are there stories about Dave Gahan and Martin Gore…being together??”

Dave Gahan/Martin Gore (Gahore) are in Depeche Mode. They were my 1st ship as an adult. You can read about it here. Obviously Depeche Mode is a band so there is no fictional narrative anywhere to follow. I quickly learned that RP shipping was taboo. However in my shipping community we all shipped the band so I was more or less insulated from it.

I dove in headfirst. I literally couldn’t not do it. It was something my brain needed. Sure I could have forced myself to not go look for it because of some kind of moral (?) imperative which I wasn’t even aware of at the time, but even if I stopped myself, that would not stop my brain from wanting it. Making up stories and scenarios. Finding evidence in videos, songs, interviews, etc. I shipped these two people because of what I had observed between them.

I saw love. So did my shipping friends. We all saw it. I needed to experience it. My life lacked it.

My next RP ship was Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch (FreeBatch). First I fell in love with Sherlock and John, obviously. But then as I started to follow the fandom, I started noticing the same things that others noticed. My brain just went there. I literally had no choice. It’s not as if I could tell my brain “don’t do that”. It would not listen. You can’t tell a starving person to not think about food. In fact telling them that probably makes it worse.

In my personal life, I had been through a breakup with the man I dated after I got divorced, and then I began dating a woman for the 1st time. I really started to relate what I was seeing on the screen and reading on Tumblr and in fic to my own life. I was starting to process my own bisexuality. I started to notice things about Martin and Ben that other people were noticing too. Shipping them helped me navigate that time in my life because I saw myself in it. I related to it. But it wasn't a choice. My brain just went there. Maybe I was Baader-Meinhoffing but even if I was, that doesn’t mean it’s something I didn’t need to explore, work out in my mind, and discover.

Shennant (Michael Sheen and David Tennant) is my 3rd RP ship. Yes I fell in love with Aziraphale and Crowley of course, but again, as I started to follow the fandom and David’s and Michael’s careers specifically, watching interviews, watching Staged, etc, I started noticing the same thing that many others noticed. I literally couldn’t help it. My brain, again, just went there. Also in Staged of course, they play themselves. I have to say that my RP Shipping really took off after I watched them in that. They play themselves. Their actual partners are in it. If one were to write Staged fic, is that not RPF? Where is the line between what is supposed to be okay and what is not?

Again, with this ship, I had big things going on in my personal life. Dad passed away almost a year and a half ago, and now I'm taking care of my elderly mom long distance. It's a huge emotional burden. I'm not dating anyone right now mostly because of that but also because I was in a poly relationship with the male half of a het married couple (longtime friends of mine) that ended extraordinarily painfully (so this was V or chain-style poly not group-sex poly). Since then I've been alone for more than 2 years. I'm still getting over it.

The love I see between Michael and David feels unconditional. I see adoration. If they are indeed in a healthy poly relationship, my god, how on earth did they do that? Even while navigating fame? It’s certainly a lot more difficult than my own situation. I can explore it: What kind of person feels safe to me the way I believe David feels safe with Michael? What kind of relationship can withstand the kind of obstacles they (and I) might face? What would have had to actually happened for them to be as happy as they seem to be? What discussions were had? What agreements were reached? How does one do this the right way? What does that tell me about my own relationship and what went wrong? What should have happened?

This is, in its most academic sense, a tool for my brain to heal and to discover what kind of a relationship I want. And my brain knows it. That’s why it ships. My heart doesn’t know that. It just knows I love seeing them happy together. This is the magnet that drew me.

RP Shipping helps us to work shit out in our personal lives.

I bought Spark edited by Atlin Merrick recently. One of the essays by Angela Nauss, LMFT (Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist) really stood out to me is titled Sympathy for the Devil: Attachment Theory and FanFiction.

The article is about fanfiction authors, however I would extrapolate this to include readers and RP Shippers as well. RP Shippers are authors of narratives in their own mind, even if they are not always written down.

From the book:

“Fanfiction authors process attachment wounds using fictional characters as proxies…to process and understand the origin of the problems encountered during adolescence.”

“Some authors write fanfiction to humanize uncomfortable aspects of their identity, grieve and repair damaged relationships, and process attachment wounds…by exploring how the character would behave in adaptive relationships.”

“Fanfiction authors project their unconscious trauma onto the characters.”

“The characters gain insight into their behavior and no longer feel responsible for their childhood attachment wounds. Through their writing, the author incorporates repressed trauma and attachment wounds into their conscious experience and achieves catharsis.”

“Writing fanfiction is a valid form of therapeutic self-exploration.”

I’ve been in therapy for several years, In fact the poly relationship I was in is why I seeked out therapy in the 1st place. I know that shipping these people, exploring aspects of that, is helping me to heal attachment wounds and the trauma caused by past relationships.

As part of my healing from this poly relationship I was in, I intend to write a meta and/or a fic about David and Michael. I know it will aid in my healing. I may or may not post it.

Also, even Shakespeare wrote RPF.

I’m seeing people say that we RP Shippers are terrible, immoral, disgusting, gross people and that we want David and Michael to leave their partners. That we want to break up their families. Let me be clear that I want nothing of the sort.

There are people out there that want to "protect" them from this “immorality” by shaming us, berating us, calling us names. Even sending certain blogs directly to Georgia and Anna! This is the exact opposite of what actions like this are actually doing. This does not protect them from harm. It creates it.

There is no such thing as thought crime.

Not only is it impossible for me to choose not to ship these people, but I also get the sense that even thinking about it is supposed to be wrong. That it makes me an immoral person.

Something I keep seeing is that people are so upset that we RP Shippers are doing this. Like, why don’t we just, stop. Just look at all the other appropriate characters that are out there to ship! Or just never start in the first place. As if this was a choice we are making to consciously ship real people.

When shippers ship a couple, do they choose that couple consciously? Do they say, hmm, I'm going to ship X person and Y person because it's...logical? Or for whatever consciously thought of reason? I'm going to go out on a limb and speak for mostly all shippers and say no. Shippers ship because we see something in those 2 characters that we are drawn to like magnets, for whatever reason. Real People included. If you're on Tumblr for a fandom and read fic, you know what I'm talking about.

Male/Male relationships is a fetish, or a kink, for me. And by extension, RPS/RPF as well. I do enjoy thinking about what might be the "reality" behind the curtain that we are shown as part of their public personas. This is part of the ingredients to this fetish, or kink, for me.

Kink is defined by Wikipedia as “the use of non-conventional sexual practices, concepts or fantasies. The term derives from the idea of a “bend” (a “kink”) in one’s sexual behaviour, to contrast such behaviour with “straight” or “vanilla” sexual mores and proclivities. It is thus a colloquial term for non-normative sexual behaviour.”

A fetish is defined by Wikipedia as referring “to any sexually arousing stimuli, not all of which meet the medical criteria for fetishism. This broader usage of fetish covers parts or features of the body (including obesity and body modifications), objects, situations and activities (such as smoking or BDSM).”

Generally, modern sexual health thinking seems to say “So long as your fetish doesn’t get in the way of your own well-being, the safety of others, and your partners participate enthusiastically, there is nothing wrong with it.”

It seems to be another taboo to claim gay (or bi/pansexual) men as a fetish, or a kink. There are some who claim that it’s objectifying the very real experiences of gay men. I struggle with this because I can't deny that I enjoy it but I also don't want to hurt anyone.

I am not a gay man. I will never be a gay man. I am a cis bisexual woman. I can never know what that experience is like. This is, in essence, the core of the fantasy. It can feel as good and perfect and romantic and loving as I want it to be because I don’t have the parts or experience to know it first hand. Therefore I've come to the conclusion that my thoughts in my head and anything I write down in a safe space does not hurt anyone. For me personally, it’s a way to disconnect from myself. People enjoy fic for all sorts of reasons. I shouldn’t have to prove that my reasons are "wholesome" to be allowed to enjoy it.

I don’t enjoy reading het fiction for reasons I won’t go into, however they are probably not individual to just me alone. Hoards of women like me also enjoy the same thing.

So yeah. To the surprise of absolutely no one, thinking about Michael and David, or Martin and Ben, or Dave and Martin, or men in general, kissing or having sex or a romance with each other – turns me on. That leads me to state the following:

Anti-RP Shipping and Anti-RP Fiction is kink shaming.

When I say "Anti", I'm referring to those who loudly object to it. Not those who (thankfully) say "that's not for me" and move on. Just like I would with say, Omegaverse.

Because my interpretation of these real people is in reality, “fiction” in my own head, then by definition all RP Shipping is RP Fiction. It cannot be reality because I don’t know them. Therefore any stories, speculation, comments, analysis, conclusions, art, etc, IS ALL FICTION.

Real people are characters to your brain.

Obviously I don’t know them personally, so anything that I were to believe or create in my head about them is by definition, fiction. My brain makes it up according to what I’ve seen, read, heard, observed and drew conclusions from. This creates a fictional reality for my brain to consume. It can’t be reality because I don’t know them.

Wikipedia says RPF writers are “building a fictional universe based on the supposed real-life histories of their idols. Information from interviews, documentaries, music videos, and other publicity sources are assimilated into the stories. It is also very popular to write fiction about celebrity couples. Communities of writers build collective archetypes based on the celebrities' public personas".

I would never, under any circumstances, present any RPS/RPF questions, stories, insinuations, or even mention it at all directly to the actors/musicians/personalities or their partners or even anyone associated with them. I would be beyond embarrassed to do so. Even though Michael himself seems to be accepting of it, I would never present it to him. Never. (I mean it’s not like I could really anyway but still).

I believe that 99.9% of RP Shippers would do the same. It’s the .01% that have done so (and unscrupulous “journalists” looking to shock by asking questions/showing them the RPF, and those people claiming to prevent harm by sending it directly to them “for legal action” or tattletale “look at what these terrible people are doing” and blaming the RP shippers for creating it – wow talk about projection) -that make a bad name for us all. Showing it to them and asking them about it IS a choice.

If RP Shipping is not a choice, a way to work out personal mental health issues, is fictional by definition, and a non-pathological aid to sexual excitement that hurts no one if it is contained within safe spaces such as fic sites and Tumblr, then what exactly is the harm?

Tumblr is a safe space.

Why is there such vitriol against RP Shipping and RPF? You claim to be protecting the actors or people in question, but by raising your voices so loudly in various ways, you are harming the very person you claim to be protecting. I think you have to ask what it is within yourself that makes you so aggressively hate this? Why can't we just say "that's not for me" and move on?

Don't we on Tumblr and on AO3 celebrate non-mainstream ideas such as this? Or if not celebrate, at least live and let live. The fact is that Tumblr is supposed to be a safe space. I should feel safe speaking my mind here. I know quite a few RP shippers follow me so I don't feel completely alone, but I don't feel entirely safe posting this.

My morality is not yours to police.

I strongly doubt I’ll be changing anyone’s mind with this. If you’re Anti RP shipping and Anti RPF you’re probably going to stay that way.

Don’t like, don’t read.

You can unfollow, block people, block tags, filter tags on AO3...any number of things. Think of it like a trigger. Just please don't spew hate.

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something-tofightfor · 6 months ago

Text

Liminality: Part 9

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,976

Rating: This one's actually very tame, but I'm gonna go with M for overall content + language.

Summary: You and Frankie have decided some things about the next full moon, but there are plenty more to consider. Conversations with some of the people that he's closest to prove to you that Frankie's friends do, in fact have his - and your - best interests in mind.

A surprise revelation puts a few more things into perspective ... and widens your new circle of friends a little more.

Author’s note:

The action picks up the next chapter - I promise. This one is a lot more focused on relationship building and setting groundwork. There are also a couple clues in here (as well as some nods to the movie) ... let's see if you can catch them, Thank you for reading! Please come say hello in my inbox or through DMs if you want!

This one goes out specifically to @anniet852 for making the request that I post it tonight. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for reaching out.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)

There was something warm and soft pressed against the space just in front of your ear, and after you blinked a few times, you realized what it was. It’s Frankie, and he’s kissing me.

Humming quietly, you rolled back and toward him, but he stopped you with one hand on your side, sighing out your name. “No time. I’m gonna be late.” What? “Didn’t wanna get up so I stayed with you as long as I could.” Oh. “Stay in bed.”

“But -” You voice was hoarse and thick with sleep, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“No, it’s early.” He kissed you again, that time a little closer to your mouth. “Stay as long as you want. Make yourself at home. Spare key’s in the kitchen. Take it with you and give it back next time I see you.” His tone was low and soothing - a quiet rumble in your ear. Even though you wanted to get up, you felt yourself drifting again, sinking deeper into the nest of blankets that smelled like him as he pulled the top one up and over your shoulders. “I’ll call you tonight.”

You hummed in agreement, nodding, and Frankie squeezed your shoulder but didn’t say anything else. A few minutes later, you thought you heard the front door close, but you were already almost back asleep.

The next time you woke up, the room was filled with light, and the clock on the bedside table said 10:27. I just slept for almost ten hours. Pushing yourself upright, you rubbed at your eyes with one hand, yawning.

It was strange to be in Frankie’s house alone, but you felt comfortable, and there was a large part of you that was excited to have the opportunity to look around before you left. You weren’t going to snoop, but you did want to get a better idea of Frankie as a man without him only a few feet or a room away.

He’d told you to make yourself at home, and so you did, setting the coffee pot to brew while you looked around the kitchen and into the living room.

There were pictures hanging on the fridge - Frankie and Carmen in his back yard, one of him and a woman you assumed was Becca with a swaddled baby held between them, a group shot of Frankie and the guys. He looked happy in all of them, but you noticed a hollowness in his expression in the one with the baby, dark circles under his eyes and his face much thinner than it currently was.

Trailing a finger over it, you chewed on your lower lip, feeling your stomach twist. He’d told you about using, but seeing proof of how much he’d struggled just after his daughter was born was a shock. But he’s doing better now, and he’s still in Carmen’s life, and … things are good.

His past would be something that the two of you needed to discuss in more depth, just so you were on the same page - especially if you stayed in Florida. There was no way around it - the drugs and mission to South America coupled with his adjustment to post-military life and becoming a werewolf were a lot for anyone to deal with.

But since you knew he’d had talked to so few people, for Frankie, it was likely much more difficult to open up than normal. And I want to help him, if he’ll let me.

After making your coffee, you wandered through the rest of the house, glancing at the books on his shelves. You lingered on a few more photos of him and his family throughout the years and the decor that he’d chosen to fill the space.

It all made you smile, because the inside of his house was a reflection of Frankie as you knew him. Aside from the hidden millions and the wolf status, he hadn’t lied when he’d said that what you saw was what you got, and that impressed you. Because that isn’t always the case with people.

Curling up on the couch with your mug, you looked around the bright, sunny room and grinned, taking a deep breath. It was a house that you could get used to being in, and the fact that Frankie trusted you to be there alone spoke volumes.

But the longer you sat, the more your thoughts drifted. And after a little while, they drifted back to the previous night … and what you’d almost said. Is it possible? Could I really… You sipped your coffee and eyed the darkened screen of the TV, thinking. He’d heard you, obviously, and had likely pieced things together, even though you’d managed to keep from finishing your sentence. “But it was right there.” Taking another drink, you closed your eyes. “And I was definitely thinking it.”

Speaking out loud to the empty house comforted you, as did admitting that what you’d almost said was the truth.

Nothing about meeting and being with Frankie made any sense. The timeline was expedited. The circumstances were unconventional, to say the least. He was not the type of person you’d ever gravitated toward before, even without the wolf component. But none of that mattered, because from the moment you’d met him, you were drawn to Frankie on every level, and the pull had only intensified as the days passed.

You wondered exactly how he felt, and what he’d tell you if you asked.

You were curious to know if he returned your affection to a similar level, or if you were moving too quickly and leaving him behind. It was more than sex for both of you, and he’d been the one to suggest the idea of giving a relationship a shot. But that doesn’t mean he loves me. That doesn’t mean it’s serious for him yet… does it?

Pushing yourself upright, you went back into the kitchen and cleaned up after yourself, loading the dishes into the dishwasher and then wiping the countertop down. Pausing in front of one of the windows, you stared out and into the back yard, thinking. Your questions needed answers, even if only to give you a better idea where you and Frankie stood … and of what to expect moving forward.

But more than that, the part of you that craved connection wanted reassurance that even though you’d fallen hard and fast, you weren’t alone in your feelings. You didn’t think you were, especially with the way he’d looked at you and spoken to you, sticking up for you in front of his friends and with Ashley. “I need to fucking go.” Smacking your hand on the counter, you groaned. “I need to be doing something and not just thinking about this.”

Turning around, your eyes landed on the wall just behind the sink, and you laughed at the sight of it. It was a chalkboard - some of the surface covered in Frankie’s handwriting, other parts featuring notes and drawings from the guys that you snorted as you read through. You had no idea how you’d missed it previously, but with another grin, you reached for a piece of colored chalk and added a message to one of the open spaces.

LOADED THE DISHWASHER. LEFT @ NOON. CALL ME IF YOU WANT TO.

Pausing, you chewed on the inside of your cheek and then added the final touch - a heart and your name before spinning away and hurrying back into the bedroom to collect your stuff.

He’d see it right away, and you knew it.

And even though it was easily erased, the few words added to the wall were just another example of your insertion into his life … and seeing them next to the ones from his friends made you question things further. And I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s not that big a deal… fuck.

You got ready to leave in only a few minutes, and when you stepped back into the kitchen to grab the keys, you lingered there, turning in a slow circle.

Frankie leaving you alone in his home was a big step - no matter how you looked at it. But you still couldn’t get ahead of yourself or expect too much from him. And I won’t. Especially before we find this other wolf.

The door closed and locked behind you, you headed for your car … but you spent the entire drive home in deep, silent thought.

—

Your phone rang almost three hours later, and the number on the screen was one that you didn’t recognize. You contemplated not answering but decided that you needed to, cautiously lifting the device to your ear as you said hello. I don’t know anyone here, and that’s a Florida area code, and …

“Hey, it’s Pope.” Shoulders slumping in relief, you greeted him. “What are your plans this afternoon?”

“I don’t have any.” Looking around your apartment, you wrinkled your nose. “I’m working right now, but -”

“Do you want to come over?” His invitation caught you off guard, and before you could reply, he continued. “‘Fish told me where you’re staying, and you’re not too far from Yova and me. You should meet her, and we need to talk.”

“We do?” He laughed, and you realized how unsure you must have sounded, but Pope replied right away, still laughing.

“We do. But I swear to god, it’s not the way it sounds.” You agreed, Pope letting you know that he’d be home whenever you wanted to head over. While you got ready, your mind ran wild with thoughts about what Pope wanted to talk to you about - and excitement about meeting Yovanna, who you’d heard a lot about in the weeks since you’d met Frankie and his friends.

The drive was short, and it turned out that Pope’s house was slightly larger than Frankie’s. But as you pulled into the driveway, you remembered that Tom had told you it wasn’t his, and belonged to his parents. It’s nice, though.

You parked and headed for the front door, raising your hand to knock.

Before your knuckles made contact, the door opened and you were met with the smiling face of one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen. “You must be Yovanna.” She nodded, her eyes widening. “I’m here to see Pope. I’m -”

“You’re Francisco’s.” Her smile grew. “I have heard a lot about you.” She opened the door all the way, inviting you in. “Santiago is outside. I’ll show you where.” She led you through the house, and as you moved, you thought about her words - and how she’d flat out called you Frankie’s, like it was common knowledge. Is it? “Before you go outside, I…” She stopped in the kitchen and turned to face you, blinking rapidly. “What he is, it is … not his fault. Francisco is a good man.”

“Wait, you…” She knows? Sucking in a breath, you shook your head. “Yovanna, I -”

“They don’t know that I know, but I do.” She reached for your hand. “I’ve seen it before. He’s seguro. Safe, not dangerous. The other one…” She shivered. “Be careful.” Yovanna pointed toward the door with one hand. “Listen to him. To both of them. I -” Your heart was pounding, but instead of interrupting her, you reached over and laid a hand on her shoulder, waiting until she trailed off to speak.

“I know Frankie’s not dangerous.” She looked relieved, giving you a single nod. “I know it’s not his fault.” Her smile grew again, both of her eyes closing. “I’m here to help him get answers.” That shocked her, but before you could say anything else, she was hugging you, her hold tight.

“He needs them. Deserves them.” Gesturing when she released you, she chuckled. “I’m going to start making dinner. I’ll let you two talk.” Yovanna turned away from you and then paused, looking back over her shoulder. “If you know about … Francisco, do you know about …”

“The money?” You nodded. “He told me everything.” Yovanna covered her face with both hands, exhaling loudly. And when she lowered them she looked relieved, her eyes shining with tears. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“He needs someone like you.” She wet her lips. “He needed someone like you a long time ago.” Without another word, she left the room, leaving you stunned and standing just inside the door that led to the back yard.

You were overwhelmed, but didn’t want to keep Pope waiting, and so you headed outside and took a seat next to him on an empty deck chair. “You made it.” He looked over, smiling at you. “Good.”

“I did.” Getting comfortable, you leaned back and looked out over the yard. “This is your parents’ place, right?”

“Yep. They’re on vacation right now. I paid for ‘em to go back home for a couple months, and my ma says she doesn’t ever want to come back here.” You laughed, watching as Pope rubbed at the back of his neck. “Both my parents were born here, in Florida, but I’ve got a ton of relatives that don’t live in the US, and since I can afford to send my parents to see them… why not?” He shrugged. “They’re happy, and Yova and I get to be here together.”

“Frankie told me about Australia.” He nodded. “And Tom told me you guys are going back and forth between here and there.” Pope nodded, his eyes on you. “And I get it, Pope. She’s beautiful. And she seems …” Trailing off, you thought for a few seconds. “She seems like she can handle your shit.”

He snorted, reaching up with one hand to rub at his beard - but he didn’t disagree. “She was the best thing that came outta being down there.The money’s great, but Yova? Fuck. I waited my whole goddamn life for her, and almost lost her for good because I didn’t do anything about it when I should have.”

“Well you didn’t lose her.” Turning your head to look at him, you shrugged. “She’s here. You’re here. You’re together now, and that’s what matters.” He took a long breath and held it, and when Pope exhaled, he swore. What? What did I say?

“D’you know what I see when he looks at you?” He met your gaze, his expression unwavering. “Me, looking at her.” It hit you hard - because you knew that Pope wasn’t the type of man to lie about something so important. But he … he just … “I’ve known Frankie for a long fuckin’ time. And he hasn’t ever been like this with someone. Not even Becca, and there was a couple years when I thought they’d end up together forever.”

“Pope, it’s only been weeks. We’re still -”

“He told you everything.” Santiago shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head. “He didn’t need to, but he did. He just about attacked Tom last night for giving you shit, and he’s started losing control around you to the fucking point that he can’t keep the wolf entirely at bay. Doesn’t matter if it’s been weeks or months, that shit is the truth, and -”

“I pulled a gun on him.” You looked down at your hands, frowning. “The morning he told me? I don’t know how I got past him and to my room fast enough to grab it, but -”

“And that’s another thing.” He straightened up and then leaned toward you. “The Francisco Morales I know? Never would have let you get to that gun. He never would have given you a chance to aim it. ‘Fish did. He stood there and let you point it at him.” Pope said your name, his smile small but still present. “Keeping you safe is his focus, even if it meant that he might have gotten hurt.”

That information stunned you. It was something that you should have considered, but you hadn’t. He was in the military for a decade. Of course I shouldn’t have been able to get by him. Of course he could have overpowered me. He’s… “You know why I’m here, Pope.” He nodded, waiting. “For a second, I thought -”

“Did you? Did you really?” He closed his eyes, his fingers curling into a loose fist. “Because I might not know you that well, but if you’ve really been hunting wolves for as long as you say you have, if you thought Frankie was the one you were looking for, you wouldn’t have hesitated to pull that trigger. Instead, you let him explain.”

“No, I gave him a chance to explain because I lo-” Your mouth snapped shut for the second time in less than twenty four hours, but unlike Frankie simply staying quiet and letting you recover, Pope’s eyes widened and he scoffed, slapping his palm against the arm of the chair. Shit. Shit.

“I knew it.” His smile widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the same way Frankie’s did. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell him how fucking right I was.”

“You can’t.” Your heart thumped against the back of your ribs, one hand shooting out so that you could grasp Pope’s wrist. “Santiago, it’s not … I can’t. Not until I find the Chaos wolf and deal with it.” You took a deep breath, fingers tightening. “I have to focus. I can’t even think about how much it … how much he means to me.”

Saying it out loud felt good, because even though Frankie knew that you cared, admitting how much you cared to someone that wasn’t directly involved was different. And it’s important, because now I can’t just pretend it isn’t the case. “Hey.” He said your name quietly, pulling his arm free from your grip. But instead of withdrawing it entirely, he took your hand in his and squeezed, urging you to meet his eyes.”I won’t say a goddamn word. Not yet. Not until it comes from you, or it comes from him, because it’s not my place.”

“Really?” He nodded. “Thank you.” It was a relief, but Pope’s words made you wonder just how obvious you were being with your feelings. If he noticed, then Frankie might have, too. And what about the other guys? “No. I didn’t actually think that it was Frankie that was attacking people. And the last thing I was expecting was him to tell me what he is.”

“But when he did …” Pope squeezed your hand one last time and then let go, pulling his arm up and then crossing both of them over his chest. “What did you do?” It wasn’t the question that you’d expected from him - but based on what you knew about Frankie and his friends, it was probably time that you stopped trying to anticipate how they were going to react.

“I gave him a chance to explain. And I … told him the truth about myself.” Looking down, you linked your own fingers together, one thumb rubbing over the other’s knuckle. “And then I asked him to stay because I wanted to make sure he got sleep.”

“You might be,” Pope started speaking, turning his chair toward where you sat before he went on. “You might be the best possible person to know his secret. Because not only do you believe him, you know what he’s going through. You understand wolves and their behavior, and thanks to your cousin, you know that it’s possible to be with one without problems.”

“That’s why I’m worried.” Giving him a tight smile, you blinked back tears. “Pope, what if all of this is because everything is falling into place just right? What if none of this would be happening if he wasn’t a wolf and I wasn’t hunting them? What if he’s just lonely, and I’m a convenient -”

“‘Fish might not have had anything consistent in his life since he was bitten, but I wouldn’t say he’s been lonely.” He arched a brow. “He’s had no problem keeping all this shit separate from what he does in the bedroom before.” That gave you pause, and even though it stung to think about Frankie with other women, Pope’s words rang true. “But that’s one of the reasons I asked you to come over.”

You’d wondered when that topic would come up. Pope’s invitation had been friendly, but there was business to discuss, and it seemed you’d finally worked around to that topic. “What reason?”

“He wants you to see him on the night of a full moon.” You nodded, unsurprised that Pope knew. “And you know that one of us is always with him on those nights, just to keep an eye on things … and on him,”

“Yes. He told me. And he showed me the tracker.” Pope dragged his fingers through this hair, narrowing his eyes, though he didn’t look away from you. “And yeah. I do want to go with him next time. What’s the problem with that?”

“We made a promise to him. All of us. And as much as we care about him, we’d honor it.” Your blood ran cold at he implication of his words. They’d promised that if Frankie ever hurt anyone - or presented the threat of real danger - they’d take care of it. And I don’t know that I could. I don’t know that I’d be able to. “Could you shoot him? Could you look him in the eye - man or wolf - and pull that trigger if you needed to? If he asked you to?”

“I …” Your heartbeat quickened again, mouth hanging slightly open. “Pope, I don’t…” Even as you floundered, you knew the answer. “No. No, I don’t think I could. Not … now. Maybe if I saw him hurting someone, but not after the fact.” He didn’t look surprised, but Pope’s expression gave nothing else away, either. “Could you?”

“I’d have to.” He shook his head, licking his lips. “I wouldn’t want to, but ‘Fish couldn’t live with himself knowing that he hurt someone. And we’d never let him do something to himself that might get back to Carmen later. We promised.” That was understandable; protecting his daughter would always be the most important thing for them. And I get it. I get it, but what is the point of this? “The reason I’m asking you any of this is because if you want to go with him, and he wants you to go with him alone, you’re going to have to be able to make this promise, too.”

“And what if I can’t?” Your stomach was churning, but you didn’t want Pope to know. “Does that mean I can never -”

“It means that you might have to have one of us there with you, and he’s not going to like that.” Pope shrugged, letting out a deep sigh. “I wanted to talk to you about this first, because I figured you’d be a little more reasonable. ‘Fish is … stubborn. And it’s not like we’d be right there next to you, but this while thing has only worked because we have a system, and that can’t change.”

He was right, and you knew it.

Having a second person with you and Frankie on the night of a full moon, at least for the first few times, was the right decision. It meant someone being there if things went sideways. It meant that you’d have backup. It meant that another one of them would see that you could be trusted with their friend’s secret, and that you could handle yourself around Frankie’s wolf. But I don’t like it, because the first time he shows someone, it should be private.

“Who? You went with him last month. Would it be you next month, too?”

“It’s Will’s turn.” Pope’s reply was immediate, his voice even. “And that might be the best thing for everyonr, because he’s not emotional. Me an’ Benny … we are. Tom too. But Ironhead isn’t … reckless. He’d be a good one for you to be out there with.”

Neither of you said anything else, and for a few long moments, you and Pope stared out over the well-kept yard. He wasn’t telling you that you couldn’t go, or that he thought it was a bad idea for you to see Frankie’s change. He wasn’t advising against your presence, or trying to downplay your barely-established place in Frankie’s life. He’s just trying to keep people safe.

“I have to do what’s best for Frankie.” You nodded, blowing out a breath and closing your eyes. “And for everyone else. The last thing I want to do is put anyone at risk, but I’d be lying if I told you that it wasn’t disappointing that we wouldn’t have privacy.”

“You would.” He adjusted his position, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “There’s a blind up in the trees about fifty yards from the RV. You can see everything from up there, but you can’t hear unless someone’s yelling. We used it the first couple times we were there with him, just to have a backup - someone on the ground, someone in the trees.”

“So we’d have guns on us.” Pope flinched - barely, but you caught it nonetheless. Well, fuck. “I can’t speak for him, but if that’s what you think needs to happen, then yeah.” Reaching out, you took Pope’s hand in yours. “I trust you. I trust your friends, and if that’s what it takes… it’s what we’ll do.”

He looked relieved, almost like he’d expected you to fight him on someone else being there. But why would I? I’ve already admitted that I don’t think I could hurt him. “We’ll talk to ‘Fish. This shouldn’t be on you.” You agreed, giving him a quick smile before you let go of his hand and leaned back in your chair, averting your eyes. “How’s your cousin?”

You hadn’t expected Pope to ask, but you were grateful that he had. “He’s better. The wound got infected, so they’ve been trying to knock that back, but according to his fiancee, he’s going to be fine otherwise. No bite. Nothing lasting physically, except some scars. If she hadn’t been there, or been what she is, it would be a different story.”

“You’re not worried about something like that happening to you?” Glancing over, he frowned at you. “Being on your own? What would you have done if you’d found a wolf?

“I would have dealt with it.” You rubbed the side of your neck, thinking. “I’m always armed while hunting. I know where to aim on a wolf to incapacitate it until morning. That I can do. But shooting someone I know? That I care about?” That’s different.

“But you’re not afraid?” He bit down on his lower lip, sighing. “Seeing Frankie for the first time fucking terrified me. I don’t think you understand how big he is. If I’d been alone, I would have lost my shit.”

“I’m always afraid, Pope. But I can’t let that stop me. It’s what’s expected because of -”

“Your family. I know.” You caught the roll of his eyes, along with his exasperated chuckle. “He told me all about it. I don’t mean to be an asshole, but it’s kinda bullshit that they’ve put this all on you.”

“I don’t disagree, but I don’t want to be the one to stop. Why do I get to make that decision?”

“Because you found a reason to stop?” Pope stood, turning so that he could look at where you sat. “Because you decided you wanted to have a life that you chose instead of just doing what was expected of you?” And there’s a fourth. Covering your face with both hands, you rubbed at your eyes.

Ashley and Alec telling you to choose yourself was one thing; they were actively involved in your life, and knew the burden you’d been entrusted with - and what living with it meant. Frankie, after spending years in the military and then getting saddled with an uncontrollable and unfair outcome advising you to put yourself first also made sense, especially since he was doing it because he cared about you.

But Pope, someone that didn’t know you well and only knew the basics of your situation doing the same - simply because he wanted you and his friend to have a legitimate shot at whatever happiness looked like for the two of you? That was a shock. Because he understands responsibility. He understands honor.

“Pope, I …” Raising your head, you eyed him where he stood, one hand on his hip. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but -”

“No one can choose this for you, and I get that.” He wet his lips, lowering himself so that he was squatting down in front of you, at eye level. “But maybe you shouldn’t be afraid to choose it for yourself, y’know?”

Before either of you could say anything else, the back door opened and Yovanna called out. Pope’s eyes moved from your face to look over your shoulder. Nice save, Yova. “Are you staying to eat? It’s going to be ready soon.”

“Stay.” Pope murmured the word, nodding once. “No more of this. Just let her grill you about ‘Fish.” That got a smile out of you and you agreed, turning your head toward where the woman stood. That sounds like a good time.

“Yes. I’d like that a lot. Can I help?” She waved you off and went back inside, and then Pope stood too, the tension between you lessening almost entirely. “You’re not the first person to suggest that to me this week. And you probably won’t be the last, either.” He grinned, the expression taking years off of his face. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

“I know. I don’t ever let him forget it, either.” Pope winked and then stood back up, holding his hand out. “Come on. I’ll show you where everything is. She won’t let us help in the kitchen but we can get shit set up out here on the table.”

The two of you worked quickly, only needing a few minutes to get everything into place. Pope excused himself to go inside and check on the other woman, which you knew was only an excuse to disappear and kiss her senseless next to the sink, but you didn’t mind. You needed the break to collect your thoughts, and wanted a chance to check your phone.

There was a missed call from Frankie from only a few minutes earlier, along with a picture message from Alec - of him and Ashley, both of them sitting outside in the hospital’s courtyard. Sending back a quick message to him first - looking good, glad you’re getting some fresh air! - you dialed Frankie’s number, raising the device to your ear.

He answered on the second ring, and at the sound of his voice, you realized he was in the truck, playing your call through the speakers. “Sorry I missed you, what’s -”

“I just wanted to let you know I’m not going to be able to talk until later.” He sighed, only pausing for a second before he continued. “Carmen’s sick, and she’s asking for me, so I’m on my way to Lakeland. I’m gonna spend the night and go straight to work tomorrow.”

“Is she ok?” You held the phone tighter, trying to figure out just how much panic was in his voice. “What happened?”

“She’s going to be fine. Just has a fever. Probably picked it up at daycare. Becca said I didn’t need to come, that I could just call, but …”

“Of course you’d go.” Turning in a slow circle, you peeked in through the kitchen window, watching as Pope and Yovanna laughed together, the man standing behind her with his arms around her waist as she finished the meal. They’re so happy. “I hope seeing you makes things better for her.”

“What time did you leave?” His tone softened, and you could picture Frankie’s smile, the corners of his mouth lifted as he watched the road ahead. “You sleep in?”

“Noon. And I did. All that room? I stretched out.” He laughed then, the sound coming through the speaker clearly.

“It was hard to leave this morning. Wanted to stay in bed with you.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to decide how to answer, and then opted for the truth - something that a week prior, you never would have admitted out loud.

“I missed you after you left. But…” Looking away from Pope and Yovanna, you inhaled. “I liked waking up in your bed, Frankie.”

“You could do it more.” He cleared his throat. “Whenever you wanted to, and -”

“Dinner’s ready!” Pope’s voice was loud, and interrupted Frankie. “Come and get your plate.”

“Where are you?” He was confused, and you held back your laugh. “Is that Pope?”

“It is. He invited me over to meet Yovanna and so that we could talk, and now I’m having dinner with them.” You wondered what was going through Frankie’s mind, or if he was angry that you were spending time with his friends without him - if he felt like you were going behind his back. ‘I didn’t think to -”

“What are you having? I’m fucking jealous. I haven’t had her cooking in a couple months.” Pope watched you expectantly, gesturing at the doorway. You made your way toward it, grinning.

“No idea. But it smells amazing.”

“She’ll bring you back a plate, ‘Fish.” Pope spoke loudly, leaning in when you got close. “We know how to share.” Frankie laughed at his words and so did you. Pope gave you a nod before leaning back inside and closing the door, giving you a few seconds to say goodbye.

“I’m getting a hotel tonight. Can I call you later?”

“Of course. I’ll be home after dinner.” Resting your hand on the door frame, you nodded. “I hope Carmen’s ok, and that a hug from her dad’s all she needs to feel better.”

“I do too.” He sighed, your name quiet through the phone. “Go eat. And don’t believe a word Pope says about me. They’re all lies and he’s just trying to impress his girl.”

You were both laughing when you hung up. But when you entered the kitchen and took the plate Yovanna held out to you, all you could focus on was the fact that for the second time in as many days, you didn’t feel like an outsider.

Not only had you been accepted by Frankie, but his friends had taken an interest in you, too … even when he wasn’t around.

—

Over the course of the next few weeks, you continued your research during the day while Frankie worked.

The weather held, even as September stretched on. And though it wasn’t your favorite place that you’d ever been, you started to see the appeal of Florida.

Once the beaches cleared out, they became a good place to go and read through your notes. The threat of hurricanes forming in the Gulf didn’t seem to deter many residents from planning and participating in outdoor activities, but there was a definite drop in crowd density on the sand as the days passed and people returned to work and school.

Frankie’s flight load dropped, too, though he warned you that the closer it got to the winter holidays, the busier he’d get again. You didn’t know if you’d still be in Florida for those holidays, but a large part of you hoped that you would - and you knew that Frankie felt the same.

The two of you spent most nights together, going over your notes and coming up with theories. Frankie was helpful, the man’s eyes on your previous work helping you to pinpoint a few things that you hadn’t missed, but also hadn’t assumed might be important.

It gave you hope that between you, you’d be able to pinpoint where the Chaos wolf would strike - and after seeing where he went the night you were with Frankie, you figured you’d have an even better idea. And see if our theory is correct.

Frankie believed that once the wolf ran out of larger park locations, it would begin the cycle all over again. You thought that he was probably right, but if that was the case, then the next location had a 50% chance of being the park that the RV was in… and that worried you. Because it’s where we’ll be … and Frankie will want to fight.

Alec and Ashley left Florida just under two weeks out from the attack, and though you’d gotten to say goodbye, it was bittersweet. He’d left all of his notes with you, along with a few weapons and tools, which was confirmation that he was done - and you were in fact alone in the hunt.

But more than that, Alec’s parting words had struck a nerve, the man looking you in the eye and making you promise that you wouldn’t spend the rest of your life on an impossible revenge mission, especially when you had something good right in front of you. You agreed, the words tasting like poison as you spoke them, and even though a large part of you meant it, there was still another part that couldn’t fathom abandoning your mission, even for someone - and something - like Frankie.

Frankie and Ashley spoke for a few minutes, too, and you heard her reiterate her invitation to Texas, Frankie’s enthusiasm in accepting making you grin. There was no repeat of the first meeting; they greeted each other and then spoke like longtime friends. You were thankful for it, the woman hugging him tightly and then pulling you off to the side to give him a minute with Alec.

That conversation was slightly less friendly - if their facial expressions were anything to go by. But like with his confrontation with Tom, you didn’t pry Frankie for the contents of it. If he wanted to tell me, he would. He didn’t, though, instead telling you not to worry about anything, and to focus on what the two of you needed to: the coming full moon.

Days continued to pass, and as they did, you and Frankie grew closer.

There were no more almost slips, despite your growing emotional connection. You slowly stopped worrying about it being too much, too fast, and just let things happen - because he did the same, and it felt good.

You saw his friends occasionally, stopping into the bar or going to dinner with Pope or Will and their significant others. You texted back and forth with Benny, and even met Tom’s daughter and wife one night, Frankie introducing you in the lobby of a movie theater. Tessa and Molly were nice, and you were stunned at the difference in Tom when he was with them.

In the span of two months, you’d inserted yourself into Frankie’s life almost seamlessly. It was comforting, but at the same time, it scared you.

It scared you because of how well you fit. It worried you because you had the feeling that it couldn’t - and wouldn’t - last. You’d had a few disagreements, but nothing serious, and part of you wondered if it was because he was afraid of angering you and forcing your hand in exposing him. You wouldn’t do that - and Frankie knew it, but it still ate away at you that there was no certain way for you to know exactly why he was the way he was with you.

One of the disagreements you did have was about Will coming with the two of you during the next full moon. Thankfully, you didn’t have much to do when it came to justifying that decision. Will did it for you while the three of you had a beer together on Frankie’s covered porch, the sounds of early autumn echoing around you in the darkness.

“So about next week, ‘Fish.” Will took a pull from the bottle, looking over at where the two of you were sitting together on the couch. You had your feet on Frankie’s lap, the man’s thumb rubbing lazily over the inside of your ankle. Here we go. “I’m the one going with you, and -”

“Won’t need you this month, Ironhead.” His fingers tightened and then loosened, Frankie’s voice even. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that.” Looking over at Will, you took a deep breath. “I want her t-”

“Frankie.” You sat all the way up, swinging your feet down so that you could move closer to him. “Give him a chance to finish.”

“So you’ve already talked about this?” He dragged his fingers through his hair, letting out a harsh laugh. “Made plans behind my back?”

“No.” Will leaned in, head shaking back and forth. “Not behind your back. And of course you’d have the final decision, but it’s something … that needs to be discussed.”

You reached over and settled your hand on Frankie’s leg, though you stayed quiet. “What?” He snapped the single word out, looking at his friend with narrowed eyes. “What needs to be discussed?”

“You made us make you a promise. And the only way we can keep that promise is if one of us is there, ‘Fish.” Will clasped his hands together, raising and lowering his shoulders in a shrug. “Any one of us is going to be able to do what we need to do if we need to do it, but she … we don’t know if she will.”

“”It’s been almost three years. I’ve never ever given anyone the idea that I might -”

“Frankie, I wasn’t even able to follow through when I was on high alert in my apartment, and you were human. What happens if something happens, and you’re a wolf?” Slipping your fingers between his, you let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know what would be worse, not being able to pull that trigger when I need to, or forcing one of your friends to do it after you did something you regret.”

“So both of you think I’m not going to be able to control myself.” He shifted next to you, but didn’t try to pull his hand free. That’s something. “Both of you are afraid that I’m going to all of a sudden lose my shit, and -”

“No.” Will leaned in, pressing the heel of one hand to his forehead. “But another thing to worry about is that this other wolf might show up. And we’re all used to how you act on all fours, ‘Fish, but she isn’t. If she hesitates and it’s not you?” Will’s gaze flicked over to you and lingered. “That’s not something you’d come back from.”

You hadn’t even thought of that - if you were in the middle of the forest and the other wolf made an appearance, you thought you’d be able to do what was necessary. But if it’s dark and all I see is a wolf, of course I’m going to hesitate until I know it’s not him. “Shit.” You tightened your grip on Frankie’s hand and then let go, covering your face with both of them. “Frankie, he’s right about that. Pope brought up one of them coming with us because it made sense, but I didn’t even think about the other wolf being there and my hesitation waiting to see if it’s you.”

He didn’t speak right away, but when you peeked over at Frankie, you saw that some of the anger had bled from his body. Instead he looked worried, lips pressed together and a deep furrow between his brows. “So what’s… what’s the long term plan, Ironhead? It’s always going to be one of you and her there? It can’t ever just be me and my -”

That time, it was Frankie that stopped himself, mouth snapping shut and his shoulders going rigid. Your what?

“No. Not always. She’d just need to get used to you and the routine before it could be her only.” Will licked his lips, giving you a quick smile. “I think that’s fair. We started out two of us at a time, right?”

“Yeah.” Frankie lowered his head. “So what, you’d just be in the RV? I kinda wanted it to just be us when I show her -”

“The blind.” Will leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll be able to see everything and can act if I need to, but you’ll be by yourselves on the ground.”

“It’s up to you, Frankie.” You shifted closer, reaching for his hand again. “But I don’t think it’s a bad idea, especially if I’d be going out there again after this time. Will can show me the ropes, and give me an idea of what to look for and what to expect from you when you’re a wolf.”

“We’re trying to keep everyone safe, ‘Fish. Just like always.” You waited - eyeing Frankie as he collected his thoughts. A quick glance at Will resulted in an almost imperceptible nod from the blonde, his head tipped to one side as he watched you. Lighten the mood. Say something to him.

“I have been thinking about sponsoring one of those sharks with the trackers.” You nudged Frankie with one elbow, letting yourself smile. “But maybe Will can show me how to use your GPS, and then I won’t need to. I’ll have my own -”

“Fuck off.” Frankie yanked his hand free and then wrapped both arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. You laughed but wound your arms around him, closing your eyes in relief. It’s going to be alright. “You’re right though, Ironhead. Last thing I want to do is leave her alone in the middle of the woods at night on a full moon. I know what’s out there.” And so do I. “Would you stay up in the trees all night?”

“Nah. I’d wait til you were gone and then come down. No reason to stay up there all night, unless you think I need to.” Will was speaking out loud, but you could tell from his facial expressions that he and Frankie were also having a silent conversation. In a split second, you realized that it was likely about the other wolf. But I’m not supposed to know that they’re hunting it too. I’m not supposed to know anything about that side of it, and …

It would have made everything much simpler if you’d just admitted who you were and what you were doing in Florida. You would have been able to plan with Frankie and his friends, instead of there being two separate scenarios at all times.

The inability to do so was frustrating, and there was a a part of you that wanted to speak up - to clue Will in, even though it made things more dangerous. Maybe we can talk about it next week.

“Alright.” Frankie sighed, loosening his hold on you. “I guess I don’t really have a choice in this, but I get it.” You opened your mouth to speak - to tell him that he did have a choice - but he beat you to it, leaning in and kissing you before you could. “If you’re gonna be around you need to know.” Mumbling the words, he nodded before pulling away. “And there’s nobody better to be there with you than Will Miller.” .

A quick glance at Will told you that he was relieved there’d only been a little pushback. It could have gone much worse. You were thankful it hadn’t, because the last thing you wanted was Frankie to be angry with you - or annoyed with any of his friends. Because he needs them. Settling back, you leaned your head against his shoulder, only halfway paying attention as the two of them started talking again.

And I need him.

—

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x female reader #francisco morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #liminality #liminality masterlist #writing #triple frontier #frankie morales masterlist #francisco morales x female reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie 'catfish' morales #triple frontier au

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minweber · 4 months ago

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" 'You know, Aristaeus-Theta, you are not like most tech-priests I've met before. Much more... free-thinking. Why is that? Are you some sort of youthful rebel among your kind?'

'Not quite, lord-captain. Age is a factor here, but it is the other way around - I am actually considerably older than most magi you'd meet today.'

'That's the first time I hear of age making anyone more open-minded.'

'And you still haven't. The march of time has only nurtured in me a conservative streak, as it tends to do. But me and many of my generation - we are the children of the last CBR, brought up in what one might call a more... liberal era of our kind.'

'The last what? I am unfamiliar with this abbreviation.'

'Cawl-Based Renaissance, my lord. How to explain...' "

So, going through the Genefather again, a bit that jumped out at me was one where Alpha Primus notes that Cawl seems to be approaching one of his "solitude phases". This manifests through him starting to divest himself of excess of followers and resources. Which I think is cool for two reasons.

Firstly, from the meta perspective, it seems like a sneaky laying of groundwork on Guy Haley's part, done so that any future Cawl stories can be written without having to constantly explain why he is having death-defying adventures on the ground somewhere with his sad psychic super son and nervous immortal not-husband, while literal legions of techpriests, skitarii and Taranis knights sit in the orbit above twiddling their thumbs.

But secondly, I love the lore implications of the idea that Cawl has these looong phases of either acting like the Archmagos Dominus and Prime Conduit of the Omnissiah, or just a lil' guy who chills in his lab doing his own thing. According to Primus, at the dawn of the 42nd millennium Cawl is in the process of switching from the former to the latter, which he does, among other ways, by slowly disbanding his court of weirdo followers which he has accumulated over the years. And Genefather specifically confirms this idea - one that seemed so natural to me but never was really validated before - that Cawl seems to act as a sort of rallying beacon for all manner of radicals, weirdos and malcontents within the cult Mechanicus. Weirdos that he, after one hot summer (or a few hundred years) of them all brewing together in this big pot of radical ideas, is in the process of releasing back into the wild...

Hey, isn't this a part of how - some would argue - the actual Renaissance started?

And with Cawl having apparently done this enough times for Primus to intuitively know the pattern, I can't help but imagine that, say, about every thousand years the galactic community of Adeptus Mechanicus get these spikes of radical and heretek activity. It causes tensions, purges, sometimes civil wars - but also a general liberalization of AdMech political climate for a time. Because if everyone is busy arguing about this particular attempt at pushing boundaries of the Lore by overly ambitious smartass of the week, a dozen less flashy projects can fly under the radar.

And with Mechanicus' love for recording of things - I also believe this pattern would be recognized! At least enough so that when Cawl emerges from another one of his "solitude phases", ready to present the galaxy with the hottest takes of M36, senior magi across the galaxy make a collective sigh and start preparing to deal with a fresh wave of bright-eyed mad science college graduates in a couple hundred years' time...

#warhammer 40000 #adeptus mechanicus #belisarius cawl #cawlposting #Alpha Primus #Qvo-eh...???#let's just say #Friedish Adum Silip Qvo

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ashleyh713fanfics · 8 months ago

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Dazai X Odasaku!Sister CH13

Chapter 13: "Celebrating Life Is Stupid”

Summary: After reuniting and growing closer, Dazai and Oda’s sister truly realize the value of each other and the sad bandaged boy falls deeper into the dangerous fascination and infatuation that is Odasaku’s little sister.

Warnings: pm!sixteen year old Dazai, pm! sixteen year old chuuya, ginger is very angry, Suicide mentions, guns, manipulation on both sides, Odasaku death mentions, Dazai being a Simp, Dazai being the demon prodigy but also baby at the same time.

(This is chapter thirteen of my fanfic "Timeless" which is now on A03. It carries on from the three part intro I posted a couple days ago. I'll link it below to fully understand the story. Asagao's ability is to stop time for up to six seconds.)

Three Part Intro (Broken up because the first ch is so long)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

A03 Version Here:

Word count: 6k total

—-

Tapping his feet in already brewing annoyance, Chuuya pushed his phone closer to his ear as each ear grating ring pissed him off by the second. And honestly, by the third one he debated throwing the entire object into the wall next to him in a fit of frustration.

He knew that little mackerel was doing this on purpose, sending his calls to voicemail over and over again. That guy never had anything notable going on and he knew the boss was gonna have his ass if he didn’t get in contact with that little shit.

But fortunately, or rather unfortunately for him, the line picked up on the fifth ring only to hear that same happy go lucky, irritating sing-song tone he alway seemed to use.

He hated that sound more than anything, mostly because the ginger he was about to be made fun of. “Oh Chuuuuuya, what an impatient little dog you are, blowing up my phone like this. Can't get enough of me I see.”

Gritting his teeth to hold his outburst, Chuuya simply scoffed. “Shut up, it's your own damn fault for not picking up. I know you are doing it on purpose, you shitty little mackerel.”

The voice on the other hands only hummed though, obviously unbothered. “So rude, Chuuuya, assuming such things. I am actually very busy right now. Which is why your interruption is way less pleasant than usual. And that’s saying something, considering your presence is never pleasant.”

Chuuya knew better though. “Bullshit, you’re never busy. You’re probably just fucking around somewhere.”

Just then, he heard a fake ass gasp on the side of the phone only for Dazai to answer straightforwardly. “If you call “fucking around” me currently pinning down a beautiful woman then I suppose you're right about that. Isn’t that right, love?”

Almost immediately, the ginger felt bile work its way into his throat, shoving the feeling down before shouting back roughly. “Ah, you’re so fucking disgusting! I don’t wanna know about that shit.”

Oh my god, why did he have to bring up that kind of stuff?! The last thing he wanted to do was picture shitty stupid Dazai like that, especially with some nonamed whore or brain dead manipulated bitch.

That poor soul that was with him right now, the one Dazai just called love, he pitied her, whoever she was.

Forcing the idea from his mind, Chuuya then shook his head before adding. “Listen, the boss gave us another mission in a couple days and I wanna make sure you don’t try to ditch again or else I’m gonna kill you for real, got that?!”

He knew the kid’s pattern after all, Chuuya knew how flighty and unreliable that stupid mackerel really was and he wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to get dragged into that again. The first time he flaked was bad enough.

But as expected, Dazai didn’t sound serious, he didn’t even sound remotely interested in his threats as the boy simply waved the question away. “Don’t worry slug, I’ll be there. Can’t have my dog getting lonely, now can I?”

At that name, Chuuya felt his anger spike, the boy unable to stop his outburst. What was his damn problem?! “You fuckin…I’m not a dog!!’

Dazai’s voice only came back confused though, his voice just as annoying, cheerful and mocking as usual. “How strange, all I can hear is woof woof woof so I’m gonna hang up now! See ya, Chibi.”

And just like that, the line turned dead, causing the ginger’s eye to twitch before tightening his hold on his phone before giving into the impulse and throwing the object against the wall next to him.

Watching the phone shatter to prices before his eyes, Chuuya then shook his head before grumbling out his frustrations to absolutely no one.

“I’m gonna kill him..”

——-

Closing his flip phone absentmindedly, Dazai simply smiled to himself before placing the object back into his pants pocket only to hear the voice underneath him speak out hopefully. “Was that Chuuya?”

The boy only shook his head though, pushing his foot further into the speakers chest in order to shove his enemy further into the ground roughly. “Don’t sound so happy about it. That slug shouldn’t gain such a reaction.”

His opponent only put her hands out in defense though, turning her head curiously to the side with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

Dazai expected that kind of response though, his eyes moving up in order to glance around the familiar port mafia owned warehouse that they had spent the last hour or so before she spoke again.

And this time, it was far more pushy than before. “Sooo, what did he say?”

Already feeling his lips twist into a bitter smirk, Dazai’s foot then pushed deeper into her chest, exulting double the amount of force in order for her to stop speaking. “Those aren’t the kinds of things you should be worried about, Asa-chan, considering the position you're in right now..”

Which was something that Asagao seemed to be missing in her tiny little brain considering he was currently pinning her down to the dirty and dusty warehouse floor by his foot. He clearly had the upper hand here so there was no reason for her to speak so casually.

That, and the fact that she was asking about Chuuya of all people in this sort of dangerous position caused Dazai’s sick and twisted port mafia heart to darken with malice. He was the one she was supposed to be focusing on, not that glorified hat rack.

She was at the mercy of the demon prodigy and she was acting like they were talking about the weather. He wanted her to regret ever asking about that hat rack in the first place, to apologize between his fingers for not taking his presence seriously and speaking of another so foolishly.

Then to prove his point, the boy reached into his pocket before taking out his gun in order to point the barrel straight at her head with silent warning.

It was a move that would make any one shutter and cower immediately. In fact, it was something he used a million times before to intimate each and everyone of his enemies.

But he had already learned that Asagao didn’t play by the rules of his other opponents.

Turning her head in confusion, the girl simply looked at the foot that was constricting her breathing before returning to the demon with a gentle smile of unbothered idiocy. “Oh, I’m not worried.”

And for a moment, Dazai paused, playing her game. “And why’s that, love?”

He wanted to see what she’d say, how she would justify her calm and collected behavior even though she was staring down the barrel of his gun. Yes, Asagao had outwardly said that she wasn’t afraid of dying by his hand but she wasn’t even trying to get out of it.

And he knew she could, he knew that the hellhound could fight back him if she so chose, so the fact that she was allowing Dazai to pin her down like this was interesting to say the least.

This girl, she was seconds from death and still her eyes held not one bit of urgency.

A moment later, Asagao spoke, her voice full of nostalgic memory as she reached forward in order to pull the barrel closer to her chest. “Because this is how we met, remember?”

Almost immediately, Dazai’s mind seemed to snap back to their first encounter almost an entire year ago. Huh, she was right. They had been in this position before, hadn’t they?

Back when the boy was drowning in his grief, back when he found an intruder in his friend's old place and threatened them in the same exact manner.

If only he knew how utterly life changing that little meeting had been, what kind of storm erupted from the moment he tore that hoodie off her head and looked into her Odasaku eyes.

And it was the same now, the boy looking down at her glasses free expression in order to catalog and trace the iris silently to himself. He seemed to do that a lot lately, getting lost in the emptiness as it swallowed him whole each and every time.

He was grateful for it also, knowing that the dullness of her eyes was way more welcoming then the darkness of his own soul, that by having her here he had switched the method of his demise.

Yes, drowning in Asagao was much more tolerant than drowning in his grief.

A sweeter way to die indeed, a more pleasant experience than what he ever deserved, and yet Dazai couldn’t stop himself from staring even so.

So much so, Dazai felt his lips twist upwards in familiar memory before his finger carefully cocked the gun with a dark chuckle. “Oops. You’re right, how silly of me. Let’s continue where we left off then, hmm?”

Then without a second thought, the executive pulled the trigger as a loud shot echoed through the warehouse. And most people would’ve been horrified by such a reaction, they would have regretted aiming at something he just so clearly said that he admired.

But you see, Dazai didn’t underestimate his girlfriend, not one bit.

Casually putting his hand down on his side, the mafioso then smirked to himself before turning around only to find his enemy a couple feet away, her hands on her hips. “Damn, you really tried to shoot me. I’m surprised and a little impressed, demon prodigy.”

Dazai only shrugged his shoulders though, unbothered. “Well, you told me to look at you as a threat, did you not, Asa-chan?”

It was conversation that was very prevalent in his mind, even today. Sure, the boy should’ve taken their fights easy, he should’ve sparred in a way that made sure Oda’s sister was safe but that wasn’t his style, and neither was hers.

No, Dazai treated her like a real threat, just like she deserved, he trusted that she was smart enough to anticipate his moves and counteract, like just right now.

And the fact that she had done just that also proved his theory that she could’ve gotten out his hold at any time.

What a sneaky shady little hellhound she was. He was onto her big time.

Then as if to prove his internal analysis, he watched Asagao’s face twist into that same twisted, psychotic and giddy smile that enticed him time and time again before watching her fingers twitch in unkept adrenaline just by that simple phrase.

And Dazai would never understand the power his acknowledgment had on her. That just by giving her his entire strength she was already antsy to match it. The hellhound training that had been embedded into her since she was a child, it coated and clouded every other single thought in her brain.

Pushing her fingers up to the ponytail that held her unruly crimson mane in place, Asagao then chuckled darkly before practically ripping the restraint in order to let her hair free.

And with that simple move, she had also ripped down the chains that held the monstrous creature beneath the surface, unafraid of the response it would give. “Oh Samu, you know just how to rile a girl up, don’t you? You’re right about that one, I am a threat. Now allow me to live up to your potential of me and show you how..”

And Dazai loved it, he loved that crazed beast-like look more than anything, his stance grounding itself immediately only to find that his enemy had disappeared in front of his eyes. Ah, she was using her time stopping ability. How cute.

Turning the safety off his gun, the boy then narrowed his eyes before sensing a change of wind to the right in order to let off three more shots just as Asagao reappeared millimeters from his face.

She seemed to register the bullets just in time, her body rolling to the ground in order to just miss the dangerous attacks as Dazai smirked in admiration.

And let’s be honest, should he have been pointing that gun at her like this? No. Should he have been directing his shots with the intent to kill. Also no. It was insanely risky and if she was even second too late then he would have the blood of another Oda on his hands.

Which was something the boy wrestled with internally but it seemed like his port mafia blood craved the opposite, to see just what amazing and enticing ways she could get out each deadly situation he threw at her.

And that desire, that allure was stronger than his fear to keep her locked away forever. No, she had a power, and it was too enticing to ignore, especially for the twisted mafioso who was looking for something entertaining.

He was then taken out of his thoughts as a rough hand wrapped around the barrel of his gun in order to pull it forward without fear as Asagao smirked in victory.

It didn’t matter that the chamber was loaded, it didn’t matter that his fingers were on the trigger and any slight movement could cause the end of her life.

Asa’s grip remained firm, her leg barreling into his side in order for Dazai's muscles to jump and his finger to loosen from the trigger just as she pulled it into her line of sight.

And once the cool metal was in her hands, Dazai wondered what she’d do with it, his senses on high alert only to watch the girl simply empty out the chamber of bullets with one hand, the quiet clinking of metal catching his attention immediately.

How dare she, she had the shot and didn’t take it.

Unsatisfied by her actions, the mafioso then darkened before the boy predicted her next strike in order to grab onto her fist roughly and twist it unnaturally behind her back with a huff.

No, she needed to know that she wasn’t as sly as she thought. That he was onto her little game. “Since you’re all riled up, does that mean you’ll stop holding back now too?”

He wondered how she would react to that, if she would lie about his little discovery or own up to her hypocrisy wholeheartedly? Either could be possible, considering she hadn’t disclosed to him outwardly about her watered down battles.

Asagao told him herself back in Bar Lupin that she was a prodigy just like him, that she could murder like a high level assassin and kill with the quickest of hands.

But if that was true then why hadn’t she tried that with him yet? Why hadn’t Asa displayed intent to kill with Dazai if she was so strongly in favor for believable fights?

It didn’t make sense, and he wanted to know why.

And for a moment, she felt her body still underneath his rough touch, as if she really had to think about his words. He seemed to have broken into something personal for her.

Interesting, she wasn’t denying it. But hold on, was she saying that he couldn’t handle her full hellhound side? That he was some kind of fragile little boy who wouldn't stand a chance? Did she forget that he was in the mafia, the youngest executive in the history of the organization?

She didn’t need to worry about such a thing, besides if that was the result Dazai knew he wouldn’t have opposed. So instead, he coaxed her some more. “Come on, Asa-channn. You’re no fair. I wanna die, remember?”

But even still, Asagao didn’t seem convinced, her body unmoving and eyes closing before he felt her physically shiver underneath his touch, almost like she was reliving some kind of unpleasant memory.

Something scared her, enough to cause such a visceral reaction.

Then Dazai watched as Asagao’s head slumped down into herself, her voice strained and bitter, a tone that the boy had never heard from her before. “I don’t kill anymore, I don’t want to be that person again..

Those words, they felt big, like a massive weight had just fallen on both of their shoulders. But why? What did they mean? What kind of person was she when she killed? What was she like when she truly allowed the hellhound side to fully overtake her? He wanted to ask her.

Yet before he could process that sentence, Asa used his apprehension in order to kick his shin and shift her body around, grabbing onto his forearm before flipping the skinny thin boy backwards over her shoulder.

Feeling his body slam against the ground, the girl then moved on top of him, reversing their previous position with a wave of her finger. “Besides that would be a pretty painful way to go, don’t you think?.”

His entire head began to spin instantly, both from the hit and from her change in attitude. Now she was happy, playful and just as carefree as before. There was no sign of that bitter suffocation that he had heard at all.

Which meant only one thing, she was covering it up.

But to be completely honest, every single thought he had seemed to drown out completely as he looked up at the towering force above him.

Her long messy hair was blanketed over her, shielding the two of them in a cave of her own design as she stared down with that same alluring dead eyed stare that he had admired before.

And not only that, the dim, dingy warehouse lights behind her seemed to melt around her head, bathing her in an ethereal light of some kind, something that made the boy’s heart flip unexpectedly and without warning.

God, she looked like an angel like this, so perfect, so heavenly.

Yet whether she resembled an angel of life or death was to be decided. Perhaps this was a sign from some unknown force, telling him that Oda Asagao would either be the beginning or the end of him.

Perhaps she would be the last thing he would see before leaving this world peacefully or perhaps she would carry him to the afterlife and into the pits of hell with her siren song and her dangerous words. He didn’t know.

He was playing with fire after all, selfish by staying by her side even though he shouldn’t have been allowed to. He was clouding her white light, binding her wings and making her fall to meet his level just because he couldn’t bear to be lonely.

How cruel he truly was, to not have the heart to set her free. It was too late now, the demon and the fallen angel, their fates had been sealed whether he liked it or not.

Reaching his fingers up, Dazai then ghosted across a strand of her falling hair before turning his head in curiosity. “Touché. Well, since you know so much let me ask you, love. What do you think is the most beautiful way to die?”

He wanted to know her answer, more than anyone before. Because he knew that she would answer honestly. She wouldn’t brush it off or disregard the meaning like everyone else.

Dying was a touchy subject it seemed, because although the boy craved it more than anything, it seemed whenever he brought up his little sad goal, no one ever gave him the answer he was looking for.

He didn’t want to be comforted or to hear that there was no beautiful way of death. No, he wanted perspective, real and true perspective. To see what constituted beauty for others, what that meant in terms of what he was searching for.

Because as much as he wished for peace and beauty in death, the boy didn’t know exactly what that meant. How strange it always was, searching for something so desperately even though he didn’t know the true extent of the meaning.

Waiting with bated breath, Dazai allowed her to silently think before the girl put a finger with a quiet and pensive hum. ““Hmmm, that’s a tough one..”

Then she closed her eyes before her lips curved into a confident beam of light. “I guess I would have to say a lovers suicide!”

And that light was blinding, mixing in with the makeshift halo behind her in order for Dazai to turn his head in confusion.He had never thought about that before. Hell, he didn’t even know the term. How curious. “Lovers suicide?”

Nodding to herself, Asa then lifted her pinky finger out in explanation. “Yeah, like a double suicide, you know? Because even if you deemed that the world was awful, you would still have to admit that there was at least one person that made the experience worth it, enough to want to follow them all the way to the afterlife.”

Then to prove her point, the girl simply reached down before interlocked Dazai’s pinky finger with her own, a small smile of her lips as the boy gazed at the sight in awestruck wonder.

Of course she would say something like that. Only Asagao could answer a question about death so hopefully and tragically captivating. Her desire to see the good, to twist the narrative into a positive one, they were extremely prevalent here.

But for once, Dazai didn’t mind it, he liked the idea of having someone to die with. The thought had never crossed his mind before, to have someone to treasure you enough to want to follow you until the very end. It sounded nice. Almost beautiful even, just like he wanted.

Testing out the words on his tongue, the boy whispered. “A double suicide..”

Nodding once, Asa pulled their interlocked pinkies towards her heart in reply. “Yeah! It’s romantically tragic in its own right, don’t you think?”

It was, it really was. In fact, it was so tragically perfect that Dazai knew he would’ve never had thought of such a thing himself. Simply because he wouldn't have allowed himself to think of something so nice and positive.

But now that it was spoken into the world, it couldn’t be forgotten. “I’ve never thought about that before. Do you really think someone would want to do that with me?”

Could it be, could someone really dedicate themselves to him to that extent, enough to give up everything, to walk hand and hand with him to the end of the line? No, that was impossible, no one wanted him, especially in that way.

Asa only shrugged her shoulders though. “You never know! Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

Then all at once, clarity seemed to flash in his eyes. “You’re right..”

That’s it, he just had to ask every woman he saw, then maybe one day he’d get lucky.

Reaching forward, Dazai then shifted his hands in order to grasp onto her wrist before meeting her eyes with a hopeful smile. “Hey Asa-chan! Do you wanna..”

Yet Asagao seemed to already know where he was going with his question, her hand immediately unlatching from his in order to playfully shove her palm into his face and push him back onto the ground. “Sorry Osu, I would do a lot of things for you but killing myself won’t bring me closer to my brother. The only death I’ll accept is one by your hand.”

Damn it, she had said that before, hadn’t she? Ah well, worth a shot.

Throwing his arms out with a child-ish whine, Dazai then pouted his lips at the rejection. “Boo, you give me such a good idea and then turn me down? That’s not very nice. I’m sad now.”

Asagao only laughed though, her tiny giggles taking up the space of his question before pointing a finger out in an offer of her own. “Well, we can’t have that. Oh, I know. How about we stop by the shop on the way home and I’ll buy you some canned crab to make up for it?”

And although it wasn’t what he wanted, her offer enticed him just as much, the boy’s eyes sparkling with pure joy in order to nod his head excitedly.

“Deal!”

——

Stepping through the door of Odasaku’s apartment, Asagao happily turned on the light, the plastic bag full of canned crab clinking together as she moved, only for Dazai to quickly take off his black mafia jacket and throw it on the ground.

And in the past couple weeks of them reuniting, the girl noticed Osamu's childish traits more and more, an action that made her strangely happy. Sure, she still wasn’t sure if he was being completely authentic but she couldn't deny that he at least looked more free when he did them.

In fact, their relationship had grown exponentially since the night Asa cared for him and took off his bandages. She was worried that by pushing that much she would’ve scared him away but it seemed to be the opposite, and for that she was grateful.

Now he came over whenever he pleased, without excuse, and without worry. She would make sure he ate and they would watch TV together and sometimes they would go out to spar like tonight. If anything, the two had definitely moved past the term strangers and into more of a friendship based relationship.

They understood each other, most of the time without words, and that was refreshing to both of them, considering no one else could do such an impossible thing. They were alike and yet so different depending on the circumstance. It was almost fascinating to think about.

She had never had that before, someone that understood so much with so little.

And where most people would call it invasive, Asagao saw his nosey and deductive attitude as a marvel. Although, she wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, considering she stepped out of boundaries before.

But those days seemed long gone as the girl turned back to Osamu only to pause when she noticed discolored tan stains on the bandages around his arms. Well, that was weird.

Reaching her hand up, Asagao then lightly touched his forearm, careful to keep her touch on the gauze as she inspected the source. “What is this?”

Although all she received was a boy-ish smile, filled with fake innocence. “Coffee?”

Almost immediately, something about his sentence seemed off, causing Asa to cock an eye with suspicion. “I didn’t even know you drank coffee..”

Then all at once, the boy nodded his head erratically, his lips moving at a mile a minute in order to give an over the top laugh. “Oh, yeah! I love it, I can’t get enough of it. That’s why I spilled some on me this morning. Oops, I’m so clumsy, aren’t I? Didn’t even notice it till now.”

Pouting his lips all at once, Dazai then whined to himself dramatically. “But now that you mention it, it feels really gross, like super uncomfortable. Asa-chan, you gotta save me! I don't know how I can go on like this..!”

His story was strange, considering she had never heard him speak about liking coffee before, nor did he ever choose that as his drink of choice. Usually it was just whiskey and any other alcohol he could get his hands on.

And what Asagao didn’t know was that she was completely right. In fact, Dazai had never touched the stuff before this morning. He didn’t love coffee, but the reason he had bathed himself in it was purposeful.

You see, ever since the first night Asagao changed his bandages, Dazai couldn’t get enough. He wanted that feeling back, the one that made him feel so safe and cared for. He couldn’t get it out of his head, and trust me, he had tried.

Which led him to taking matters into his own hands, aka finding ways to dirty his bandages so that he would have an excuse to give Asagao the next time he saw her.

At first it started with blood, making sure to purposely hurt his enemies in the most messy way possible in order to soil the white gauze, but then it moved to other things such as alcohol, and rolling around in dirt or dunking himself in nearby rivers.

And today’s plan involved coffee. He had gotten the idea when he saw one of his subordinates walk around the corner with one. So naturally, he ordered the guy to give it up in order to pour the lukewarm liquid on his arms with delightful glee.

Anything to get Asa to touch him like that again, to feel so important and special again. Was it underhanded? Possibly, but the boy knew he couldn’t just come out and ask for such an embarrassing thing.

Staying silent for a moment, he then watched as Asagao seemed to turn his wrist, examining the sight before she let him go with a smile. “I’ll go get the bandages. Meet you on the couch.”

And just like that, he had won yet again, causing the boy to practically skip to the plush cushions of the sofa, unable to hide his delight in song as he watched her go into Oda’s bedroom to receive the first aid kit. “Yay! Asa-chan is gonna help me, she’s gonna help me, yeah! Asa-chan is the best, she’s the very best, yeah!”

Once she turned the corner though, Asagao couldn’t help but close her eyes, already sensing his deceptive demeanor. No one spilled things that clumsily, especially Dazai. Which meant that it was for a purpose.

But because his actions didn’t seem self destructive, the girl chose to ignore them. It’s not like she minded changing out his bandages time and time again. In fact, she loved doing it, it made her feel closer to him.

Returning to the sofa, Asagao then placed herself beside him before placing the gauze on the table only for Dazai to immediately loosen his port mafia tie from his neck with one hand. “Lean closer, darling.”

So she did, the girl pushed her head closer to him so that he could slip off her glasses before unraveling the tie as she averted her gaze from his in silent wait.

Back in the warehouse she may have been able to look at him without her blurry barriers but now that she wasn’t distracted by the fight everything seemed way harder. She still couldn’t look at him head on like this, no matter how much she tried.

Dazai didn’t seem to mind though, his fingers only focused on securing the black tie around her eyes and into a firm knot as Asagao felt herself let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

So much better.

Then once her view was obstructed, Dazai couldn’t help but soften at the sight of her instant compliance each and every time.

He loved how she never protested to such a strange request, how she never judged him for not being able to do this without the blindfold. No, she knew that he needed this to continue and Dazai was grateful for that.

Once it was done, Asagao moved her fingers towards the coffee stained coverings before slowly undoing each bind as Dazai felt his breath hitch inside his throat at the emotionally intimate contact.

And even though they had done this exchange about a dozen times, each one felt like the very first. It never got easier, it never made his ears stop ringing and his skin stop shivering.

But like some psychotic masochistic man, Dazai never pulled away, his eyes always entranced with her careful and respectful moves, each calculated, each with a certain intent.

He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it, the way she cherished him.

Because as scary as it was, her gentle non judgemental fingers gave him a sense of calm along with the chaos. They terrified him and yet they always soothed him in every kind of mitch matched way.

They reached down to the deepest part of his soul, the one he didn’t know existed and embraced it in a warm and welcoming hug. And though the warmth was uncomfortable and foreign, he didn’t outright hate it anymore.

In fact it was quite the opposite, the boy wanted to run to it, he wanted to jump head first into that dangerous and vulnerable place and never return. He was addicted in every possible way, addicted to the idea of being held by her forever.

This was all her fault, how could she? Making him experience such a life changing feeling, he knew this would happen, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to resist this once he had it. How dare she, how dare she make him feel such weak and fragile emotions again.

How dare she coax him into thinking he deserved such a wonderful experience like this?

Those thoughts made him want to be protected by her hands forever, and with the low murmur of the TV in the background and the sickeningly sweet sound of Asagao’s hum to break through the noise, Osamu did feel exactly that.

Protected.

Slowly and without words, Asagao then hummed to herself in order to wrap the fresh clean bandages around his arms before securing the sight and pulling down her blindfold. “Do you feel better now?”

He simply nodded, still in a daze as Asagao smiled softly in return before replacing her glasses. “Good, I’m glad.”

A soft silence appeared then as the two kids allowed it to fill the room in order to turn their attention to the screen that was playing the latest anime episode of the show that they had been interested in lately.

This was nice, just being with him, relaxing without a care in the world. It made the foreign walls of her brother’s apartment feel more personal and belonging. Hopefully it was the same for Osamu also.

Just then, the sounds from the TV snapped her back to reality, watching as the the main character clapped excitedly as the room around her revealed her friends and family, all of them wishing her a happy birthday in joyish surprise. Aw, how cute. They planned all that out for her.

The sight couldn’t help make Asagao pause though, realizing something almost immediately. “Hey, Samu. Now that I think about it, when is your birthday? My brother never said in his letters and I’ve always been curious.”

Yet that’s when she watched Dazai pause, his voice rather dead and monotone, as if he was mentally waving the question away. “Oh, it was five months ago.”

Feeling her face fell in horror, Asa shook her head in denial. “W-Wait..I missed it..?”

No, that couldn’t be. That meant that during the time they were apart he celebrated his birthday by himself? How sad. No one even knew and he just let it pass like nothing, didn’t he?

Wait. That meant that Dazai was now sixteen, didn't it? She didn’t even realize.

It didn’t matter that he never mentioned it until now, how could possibly let such a thing pass so quietly without a word? Now she felt awful. “Oh no, I’m so sorry Samu! What kind of fake girlfriend am I? I didn’t even say happy birthday to you. What is wrong with me, I should've asked sooner, I should’ve..”

Yet the boy only cut her off though, his tone clearly dismissive. “Don’t worry about it. Celebrating life is stupid anyways.”

But how could she not worry about it? That was an impossible task, one that she knew she couldn't complete “B-But..I..”

Dazai only pushed a finger to her lips though, stopping any sense of self hatred she was about to utter before shaking his head.“I already said don’t worry your pretty little head, love. Now, stop that frown or else you’ll turn ugly like Chuuya.”

Then the boy simply smiled before flopping his head onto her lap comfortably in order to turn towards the TV and ignore the conversation completely. “Now, shush, pillows aren’t supposed to be noisy.”

And when the air turned silent once more, it was far more solemn as Asagao absently moved her hand to his hair with an unsatisfied sigh.

But for Dazai, the topic had already left his mind as the soothing feeling of her hand on his hair caused his eyes to grow heavier and heavier with bliss, immediately getting lost in the soft caresses and lulling touch.

How could he think about anything when her magic had already utterly captivated him?

Feeling Osamu’s head sink further into the safety of her lap, Asagao felt her eyes soften at the sleeping boy before thinking back to her previous question.

And though Dazai seemed to forget about it, she could not, his sad little words consuming her mind all at once.

Celebrating life is stupid anyways

Closing her eyes with dissatisfaction, Asagao then shook her head, not liking the implications of his words as she wished to change them even so.

And she would change them, she had to.

“But it’s not just any life, it’s your life. ”

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