#i need to know that the author has done at least a LITTLE research on executive dysfunction if they're going to claim it helps w adhd

[depresseddepot]

does anyone have any book recommendations for dealing with adhd, autism, and/or depression? There's a lot out there but it's really hard to tell if it has the mental version of "just lose weight" nonsense without having the book in your hands

[mikareo]

megumi doing smth pls

⌗ THIRTEEN YEARS ₊ ˖ ་. megumi fushiguro x fem reader (2.6k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ 3 times megumi wants to tell you he loves you, and the 1 time he does.

contains; attack on titan au, marleyan!megumi, eldian!reader, aot spoilers!!! (season 4), forbidden lovers, fluff, angst, kissing, major character death, cannabalism? (titans), annie cameo! author's note; here u get an old draft (psa none of this will make sense if you haven't watched attack on titan!!!!)

i. what is love at first sight

it's almost human instinct; knowing which people are more likely to have good fortune. some are simply born with an advantage— these people having the freedom to walk along the river bank, skip flattened rocks down streams, and laugh with their peers. with families who shop in the market together, hand-in-hand with woven baskets strewn over their shoulders, and all the time in the world to live their lives to the absolute fullest as true freelancers facing the rising sun that sees tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that.

but in the truth of it all...the sun doesn't shine on everyone.

there are countless amounts of souls who aren't as blessed as marleyans like megumi. souls entangled with the devil herself, ymir, a woman who singlehandedly birthed the 'race from hell'...which he's never fully agreed with. everyone he knows refers to eldians as humanity's sin, but it's not their fault their biology is simply different.

humans are humans, right? they've done no wrong by being born. especially the warrior candidate he's been staring at for the past hour from a distance. you can't be that bad. after all, you're beautiful.

okay, yes. he has a little crush. he can't help it! one day, he was minding his own business on a walk home from the lab, when gojo had the bright idea of sneaking a peak at the warrior training. that's when megumi first saw you and his world stopped. sure, you were covered in mud and crawling through trenches with a rifle strapped to your back; but that didn't make him any less awestruck. since then he's hidden himself in the same bush, week after week, just to get a glimpse of your face.

"she's a cutie. you've got good taste." okay, creepy.

megumi rolls his eyes, glancing up at his mentor who's the only person who knows of his little secret. "don't you have women to harass?"

"ouch, sassed by a ten year old. i see how it is." gojo chuckles, ruffling his black hair and crouching down to the younger boy's level. "you see her out there? she's killing it. i heard she's the top contender for the female."

"i hope so." his blue eyes are locked on you, watching as your focused expression turns to determination whilst helping your teammate off the ground. "she'll have a better chance of living that way."

"...and maybe your family will let you meet her."

ugh, his family. since he was six, the zenin's have raised him with their questionable values and ideals. as the leading researchers in the modern world, they've revolutionized how eldians are studied! at least that's what he's been told. to be frank, he doesn't care about the right or wrong battle they've propagandized to the rest of humanity. all he cares about is knowing your name and telling you how pretty your eyes are.

"i want to talk to her, at least once." his voice is quiet, but gojo hears.

"why? you wanna tell her you love her?"

he hates him so much.

"no!" megumi exclaims, pushing back the older man in defense. his cheeks are bright red from embarrassment and he can feel the flames emitting from them. "i just want to be her friend, that's all. why do you always make things so weird?"

it's amusing to gojo how his little friend is so flustered. usually megumi is a shy boy, keeping to himself and avoiding contact with his peers; but whenever the conversation topic is you, he seems to perk up...and gojo loves to tease a lovestruck kid.

"don't worry," he smirks, "you'll understand your feelings when you're older. you don't need to tell her quite yet that you love her."

love you?

"just shut up and let me watch." megumi grumbles, resting his head in his hands as you're jumping up and down after being praised by your captain. he wishes he could make you that happy one day. "it's not love, i'm serious."

he'll understand what love means when he gets older. for now, he'll just imagine confessing.

ii. what is love that is forbidden

you're a lot more annoying than he thought you'd be.

after having been selected as the new female titan, your ego is boasting with energy and won't stop boasting no matter how often megumi tells you to zip it. though he was excited to meet you, his thirteen year old self now wishes you'd give him a moment of peace. instead, you insist on following him around whenever and wherever you can and yapping his ear off with comments on everyone and everything about your day. please, just give him a break.

"uh, fushiguro..."

he sighs with exhaustion. "what?"

"i think i locked us in here."

dammit.

"you forgot the key?" he asks.

"i forgot the key." you confirm.

of course you did.

with an exhausted grumble, megumi settles himself on the cold, cement floor of the supply closet you'll both call home for the next few hours. it's both of your days off, but he'd wanted to prep his supplies for his training on monday; to which you, of course, invited yourself along for the ride. you'll stay out of the way. it's fine, he can just ignore you. that's what he told himself...though, it's impossible for him to ignore you.

it's likely that no one will visit the storage room until the evening time— with most of his colleagues at home with their families, cooking a warm meal with lamb and stew. it's also uncommon for any of the researchers to be in liberio on their off days. megumi's just the special kind that doesn't think he'll be plagued by breathing the same air as eldians.

"mind if i join you?" he knows you're asking a rhetorical question and you know he'd never reject you.

with a small plop, you take a seat next to him. he's used to your warmth by now— considering you to be an essential part of his every day, despite how much he enjoys complaining about you— and leans his head against yours. it's obvious that you're sleepy. though, you never indulge in conversations about your training, megumi is well aware of how overworked you are. he can't imagine fighting in wars at this age, especially wars in which you're fourteen meters tall and smashing through brick walls; which is why he tries his best to be there for you when you need him.

your life is a battlefield and he's the peaceful conclusion.

"you know..." the sound of your voice is faint, a great contrast to your usual noise and megumi can tell something is wrong. "when they find us here, they're going to think i kidnapped you."

"i mean what else would the zenin heir be doing with a titan shifter?" you start to choke on your words and he instinctively wraps his arms around you. "you don't need to comfort me, fushiguro. we both know i'm going to be punished after this. you can't apologize and make everything okay like usual."

to your surprise, his pointer finger touches your cheek and gently wipes away your running tears. "...fushiguro—"

"it won't always be like this." he interrupts you, cupping your face as if you're a rare gem that he can't afford breaking. "when i'm in charge, i'm going to change things. you won't have to do this anymore. i won't let them do this to you anymore!"

the two of you are a mess on the floor, crying in each others arms, and wishing that the world was a better place. "you still have thirteen years left. please...please keep fighting for me. i promise i'm going to save you."

"fushiguro..."

"call me by my first name."

"...megumi."

you're beautiful. he wants to kiss you so badly, but he knows now isn't the time. he wants to hold your hand in public, but he knows you'll be berated for doing so. he wants to tell you he loves you, but he's too afraid.

megumi fushiguro is a coward.

...but he's a coward in love; and one day, when he's taller and stronger, he's going to be able to tell you that. he's going to be able to protect you.

iii. what is love that is hopeless

"hold still." megumi's voice is soft, his fingers of the same gentle malice as they tend to your open wounds that haven't quite healed yet. with titan steam wafting from the slashes scattering your forearms and shoulders, they blow into his face in a fury of pain. "dammit, i said hold still."

his brings both arms down to your shoulders, heart breaking at the sight of you wincing in retaliation to his force, but carries on. there's no telling what you would've gotten yourself into if he hadn't insisted he care for your wounds; after making it publicly known that he's to be the only researcher allowed within your vicinity after your tireless warrior missions, none of the other researchers even attempt to get near you. he hates how often you put yourself in harms way in order to save your comrades. you're too brave. you've never been just a warrior of marley, but more or less a warrior of all people.

"i've been sitting here for an hour already, megumi." you roll your eyes, swinging your legs over the metal rims and turning to face your very pissed off best friend. "i'm tired and i'd like to get at least an hour of sleep tonight."

his expression is somewhat terrifying. if you didn't know megumi was such a scaredy cat, you'd be intimidated by his reddened cheeks and eyes of fury. it's almost as if he's an inflamed torch held against fluorescent lighting, pasty and saturated in fear and exhaustion. "i need to make sure you're okay."

"well, i have another plane to catch at dawn," you deflect his concerns. "there's some issue i was assigned to when i landed this morning. i guess one of our enemies isn't afraid of titans yet."

"you're not going."

he's firm in his statement. megumi doesn't like how his colleagues take advantage of you and your abilities. they're working you to skin and bones. if they were the ones checking up on you after every battle they'd know so, but they wouldn't treat you with as much care. his only wish in the world is to keep you safe, which he's doing an awful job at as of yet. "i don't want you getting more hurt than you already are."

"as if it matters." you scoff, leaning towards him in an attempt to get him to back off. "i'll just give 'em a little taste of my titan and they'll run away like mice. it's easy, 'gumi. trust me—"

"life isn't a game!" he's furious.

"well mine is!" you're angry as well.

why don't you get it? why can't you just run away with him?

"i only have four years left! four years, megumi! i don't care if i die tomorrow or the day after that or the day after that. i'm going to either way. you don't have that problem. you don't understand."

without warning, his lips are on yours in his best attempt to stop you from spouting all of his fears and worries from your mouth. he doesn't want to hear it. he just wants to pretend none of it is happening, and you're going to be okay. you are going to be okay. he'll make sure of it.

it takes a moment for you to respond until your intertwined in a feverish kiss that sends his medical supplies clanging to the floor— but megumi doesn't care about order, all he cares about now is being as close to you as possible. he's dreamt of this moment for years. what you taste like...feel like...sound like. he knows you're his soulmate. what he doesn't know is why it's taken him so long to kiss you.

but before your connection can move forward and become something more, your touch is gone.

"i'm sorry, i can't do this." there are tears creeping from the corners of your beautiful eyes. "i—"

he calls out your name as your figure dashes out the door, wishing that he was able to confess. he wants to tell you he loves you so badly; except he doesn't have the bravery he needs. with four more years left, megumi has two things on his agenda.

1.) find a way to save you.

2.) tell you he's yours forever.

iv. what is love everlasting

he's finally become a monster like the rest of them.

from the first time he saw you, he told himself he'd be your savior. he made countless promises that he'd find a way for eldians and marleyans to live in peace, that he'd find a way to save you from this shitty war; only to be the very person to lock you in chains, awaiting imminent death as the next female titan will be born.

megumi wanted to be brave. he wanted to stop being such a coward, but some people just aren't capable of changing so much— and what a disappointment that is.

"hey, fushiguro?" when did you stop calling him by his first name? "can you keep a secret?"

he's not supposed to be civil with you. his orders are to chain you up, inject the child, and watch as she devours you; but you're his weakness. he can't resist you. "of course i can."

a smile graces your lips. it's not a smile of happiness or joy...it's one of anguish and pain. "i wish i ran away with you. i should've run away with you. even though we only had four years, we could've been happy."

why are you saying all of this?

now of all times?

you should've told him years ago! you should've let him know your secrets before he let them change him! before he distanced himself from you and became distracted with his work!

"...megumi..."

"yes?" he's desperate to hear you.

"...i don't want to die."

a thought crosses his mind. it's a scene in which two main characters beat all odds and escape the chains and prisons they've faced, running off into the sunset, never to be seen again. this scene has a happy ending, one where there's a small and intimate wedding with no witnesses except the meadow's flowers. he lifts your veil away from your eyes and murmurs sweet nothings as you kiss him to start off your forever. his heart wants that to be true. he wants that to be true. it's too late, though. you have no time left. your thirteen years is up. his thirteen years of knowing you is up. it's time to say goodbye.

"i can't save you." he's struggling to get his words out while maintaining his composure; and your heart breaks as his promise does as well. "i'm sorry."

he's a monster.

you hang your head, nodding and accepting your fate as he makes his way down the stairs. seeing you like that, knowing what your fate is, almost causes megumi to pass out from lightheadedness. he knows he shouldn't be worrying about himself. after all, you're the one who's about to die. he has a whole lifetime to continue living, and your lifetime was a mere twenty-six years.

gently, he takes the newest warriors hands and tells her what he's about to do. the blonde girl nods along to his words, trying her best to ignore your radiating hopelessness as she's about to become the next you; and megumi injects his needle into her neck.

he wants to look away so badly as she grows into a pure titan with eyes locked on your frail body, but he doesn't want it to end like this. there's gotta be something that he can do to help you. anything to save you from this fate; but to no avail, he's powerless. so powerless that the only thing he manages to do is mouth three seemingly meaningless words as he locks eyes with you.

"i love you."

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ���₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

[lght-roastcoffee]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ Always ⋆ ˚｡⋆

prompt: "If you won't take care of yourself, I will."┆Tuna-Tober ⊹ Day 5

pairing: dofp!Charles Xavier x fem!Reader

wordcount: 2.4K

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drug use, angst, broken Charles

author's note: So I’ve missed two days now… I really did intend to stick to the one story per day, but my week so far has been busy with work and college, and I think I’m getting sick so I haven’t been as willing to write when I go home. But I have the day off Friday, so I’m going to try and crank out at least the next two prompts (Day 7 & 8) just to kind of catch up a little bit. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ 𝘯𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ 𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢-𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴 ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹

It’s been hard, the past few years. Leaving everything behind and traveling to a new country is never easy. However, he encouraged me to do so. After Cuba, I received an offer from Oxford University to take up Charles’ old position when he left to start Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. He said it would be a great opportunity for me and seeing how he acted with Moira, I thought getting away for a while would be the best decision for the two of us. 

I grew up living next to Charles and going to school with him and Raven. I met Charles in school when we were young. We were in a science class when my mutation developed, going over the parts of a plant and its inner workings when I could feel the teacher’s poor plant crying out to me in hunger. Mrs. Duvall hadn’t been watering it regularly and the pain I felt from the plant was agonizing. 

I lost control, the plant rapidly growing as its vines stretched up the walls and ceiling of the classroom, encircling Mrs. Duvall and the other students before I could hear another voice in my head. It was Charles Xavier, he had introduced himself. I needed to calm my mind and relax before any more damage could be done. I was able to find his bright blue eyes from across the room and it helped me calm down. Since then, Charles has been my only true friend, no one after that day willing to interact with the “freaky plant girl.” And after he found Raven in his kitchen that one, fateful night, the three of us have been like family to each other.

As we grew older, though, and we all moved to London-Charles and I for Oxford, Raven just to be close to us-I found myself falling for Charles’ boyish charms. His confidence, for one, was unlike anything I had seen in a man. Not only was his ability powerful and he knew how to control it, he was incredibly smart and used that for good. His research and interests opened new possibilities for him as a professor and intellectual mind. 

I had gone to Oxford for similar reasons, but mainly for research on mutations, like Charles, but also to research plant biology. What I learned in my studies helped unlock new aspects of my mutation. I can grow almost any plant imaginable, as well as experiment with creating my own. I can create deadly poisons and toxins that are beautiful to the human eye. 

After graduating, I decided I’d start my own path and travel the world discovering all there is to offer in my mutation and help those in need. I traveled to impoverished regions of the world and helped their farmers grow all kinds of produce and food for the people. I taught them how to find the best soils, the best fertilizers, and quickly, these places saw improvement in their hunger and trade. 

I continued this until one day, while I was in a secluded corner of the world helping someone recover their diseased crops, I felt an itch against my mind. I immediately knew it was Charles, my old friend I hadn’t seen in who knows how long. The brief, but most welcome contact brought a smile to my face despite the confusion of my students. And within days, he was there, with his cerulean blue eyes and smug smirk on his face, asking me to join him on his recent mission. How could I say no to him ever?

So I followed him to D.C., right into the CIA compound labeled as Division X where I reunited with Raven and met the other mutant recruits, as well as agent Moira MacTaggert. My feelings for Charles seemed to return the longer we were together. I followed him on his missions, my mutation and knowledge of it coming in handy at times. I got to know Erik Lehnsherr, who noticed my predicament quite early and secretly teased me, earning more whips from my vines than gentleness. 

But I saw how Charles looked at Moira and listened to his flirtatious comments. She was beautiful and had a brilliant mind, so open to the discovery of mutants and welcoming to us all. Erik tried to tell me differently, Raven, too. But I knew what I was seeing. If he was into me how I was him, why would he be making advances on Moira?

Then the fight on that beach in Cuba happened so fast. Erik throwing out Charles’ plan and declaring his own war against humanity. The bullet piercing Charles’ spine, leaving him paralyzed. And Raven taking Erik’s hand in the end and disappearing. There was no going back to the way things were. 

After we returned to the mansion in New York, Charles and I started making plans to open our own school for the children with mutations who had nowhere else to go. A place they could come to have a normal education while learning how to control their abilities. Moira helped, too, which I will forever be grateful for. A human willing to risk their career to help those who have previously tried to harm her. But she also helped Charles. The lingering touches, the niceties exchanged in hushed tones.

When it all became too much, my heart breaking more and more as I watched them around the mansion, I applied for the open position at Oxford. I didn’t mean to keep it secret, but I genuinely forgot about it, not thinking I’d get the job. But when a letter came in the mail, wheeled in on Charles’ lap, the guilt washed over me. 

He smiled at me, bright and genuine as he handed the envelope over and watched me open it. I remember a hand flying to my mouth in utter shock as I read the acceptance letter. I remember the warmth of Charles’ arms around my frame as I fell into his embrace, laughing along with me. I remember the completely genuine words of encouragement he said to me, telling me to pursue this opportunity and go to Oxford. 

Within the week, I was flying to London with my life packed back to Oxford and saying goodbyes to my remaining friends. Charles promised we’d call each week to recount our days. This only lasted the first few months before the calls started becoming nonexistent. I tried to visit as often as I could in the beginning, too. I’d fly over and surprise Charles at his new school, visit with some of his students, then return to London to continue my research and lectures. But work for both of us started piling up and never gave way for me to visit again. I wrote occasionally, hoping to hear from him, or even Hank, but never did. 

Soon, the years started to go by. I missed him. I tried dating to occupy myself when work allowed me, but no one ever lived up to my memories of Charles. I watched the broadcasts of President Kennedy the day he was assassinated, catching a glimpse of what looked like Erik, and tried calling the mansion again with no luck. My concern continued to build and build until I was given a week's vacation time for my contributions at Oxford and booked the first flight to New York. 

Now, as I follow the familiar roads to the Xavier mansion, I notice the front gate in shambles, like no one has been living there for some time now. I have to get out of my car to open the gates and let myself in. It’s evident that the maintenance of the mansion has been lacking as the drive up to the house has become somewhat overgrown. The fountain out front has dried up and started cracking in places and vines and hedges have started overtaking the front of the mansion, which is covered in dirt and moss from mismanagement. 

I walk up to the doors of what I used to call home and knock on the hardwood. I hear silence as time passes. I knock again and this time I can barely make out what sounds like running. The door jiggles as someone from inside unlocks it and cracks it open. Hank’s face appears, lacking his signature blue fur and pointed canines. 

“Y/N?” Hank asked, shock covering his features. “W-what are you doing here? I thought you were at Oxford?”

“I was- Am,” I say. “I got an extended vacation and thought I’d visit, since it’s been a while.”

I try to look past him into the foyer of the mansion, seeing nothing but darkness. “What happened?”

Empathy clouds his eyes. “Look, it’s not a good time right now. I’m sorry.”

“Where’s Charles?” I question as my nerves set on high alert. “What happened to the school?”

“He’s- he’s resting right now.” Hank adjusts his stance, blocking my gaze from looking inside.

“Resting? Is something wrong?” I frantically search his face to find something that will answer my questions.

“It’s really not a good time-” I cut him off.

“Hank, if you don’t let me in right now, I’ll string you up to the roof.”

I push past him, probably shoving a little harder than necessary. I thought I’d never see the mansion in the state it’s in, one of disarray and time long passed. 

“Where’s Charles?” I demand from Hank. “I need to see him.”

“He’s upstairs, but-” 

I don’t stay long enough to hear the rest of his sentence. I race up the stairs, checking each room I pass as I go. Soon I stopped at what used to be my room when I would stay over. Clothes, empty whiskey bottles, glasses, and trash covers the room. More concerningly, syringes are scattered across the nightstand next to the unkempt bed. Lying on top of the blankets is the body of the man I called my friend. 

I take in the state of him. His hair grew longer, reaching his shoulders and looking like it hasn’t been washed in days. His once clean-shaven face is full with a beard in desperate need of a shave. His once bright and energetic blue eyes now stare at the ceiling in a dull daze. He’s dressed in a ratted robe, stained t-shirt, and pajama pants, something I never would have expected to see him in. One of his arms is lying next to him bare of the robe and an elastic band tied around his bicep, a used syringe discarded next to him. 

“Charles…” I whisper, tears forming in my eyes at the sight of my friend broken. 

His head snaps to the side to look at me finally, confusion then realization crossing over his face.

“Y/N…” 

I rush to his side, quickly working to undo the band around his arm and moving the syringe. Then I take his hand, his other reaching out to touch my face in disbelief. 

“You’re here,” Charles whispers shakily, tears quickly falling from his eyes. 

My other hand wipes the tears falling as he caresses my cheek. “I’m here, Charles.”

We sit there in silence for a while before he decides to sit up. I helped him, also noticing him using his legs.

“Charles, your legs,” I gasp. 

He sighs, what looks like shame forming in his eyes. 

“What happened, Charles?” I move so he can swing his legs over the side before wrapping him in my arms once more.

“It all became too much,” he whispered into my shoulder. “It was all too much. I couldn’t shut them out.”

He told me about opening the school after I left. About the success he saw in that time. He told me about the building war and U.S. relations in Vietnam, how students, teachers, and staff were getting drafted exponentially more than anyone else in the vicinity. How everytime he used Cerebro, all he could see were mutant men and children drafted getting killed on the battlefield. The toll it took on him and his control of his abilities. He told me how it became overwhelming, the voices and pain in his head when he finally lost control. He told me about the serum Hank created to help him block out the pain and how it canceled out his powers, but gave him back his legs.

By the end, he was breaking down in my arms and I latched myself to him. One hand found its way to his hair, combing through the long tendrils as the other rubbing up and down his back. His sobs wrecked through me, pulling tears from my own eyes. 

After a while, his sobs quieted, but he didn’t let go. If anything, his hold on me seemed to tighten, almost like he’s afraid to let go. 

“I’m so sorry, Charles,” I whisper into the side of his head, pressing a gentle kiss there. 

He pulls back to look me in the eyes, his eyes glistening with relief. “I’m- I’m happy you’re here. But I…” He pauses, swallowing on words unsaid.

“It’s alright, I’m here now.” I smooth his hair back from his face, feeling him slightly lean into the touch. “Let me take care of you.”

His brows scrunch together, eyes closing. He starts to pull away, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine. I-I’m fine.”

I sigh, reaching for his hands again. “Charles, respectfully, if you won’t take care of yourself, I will.”

With that, I led him into the familiar en suite bathroom, setting him down on the toilet and grabbing the brush on the sink counter. I stand between Charles’ legs and his hands come up to the sides of my thighs. Gently, I work the brush through his hair, hitting more knots than I expected, but working them out as softly as I can.

Once the knots have disappeared and Charles’ face has begun to relax, I set my hands on both sides of his face, tilting it up so he’s looking at me.

“There’s some things we still need to talk about,” I begin, rubbing my thumb along his cheek. “But I want you to know that I am here for you. For whatever you need, Charles.”

I lean down and press a kiss to his hairline, feeling him slightly squeeze his hands still on my thighs. 

“Thank you,” He whispers, finally smiling slightly.

“I’ll always be here.”

[cattynamie]

The way they say "I love you" <33

+Riddle Rosehearts + Leona Kingscholar.

Author's note : i actually DID have to do some research to write some of these characters (Riddle), but i hope i got them correctly :))

Warnings : None! completely SFW. Anyone can read this freely, and as far as im aware, the reader has no specific pronouns and can or can not be seen as Yuu! The choice is up to you.

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Riddle Rosehearts makes time for you. I believe that, everyone and their mother's by now, knows that Riddle can be very strict with his schedule. (Either because of his grades or because of the rules of the red queen) And making barely any time for himself.

But then you came along. Which was annoying at first, of course, not because of you, he would never be annoyed at you or your persona. He was annoyed on how you made him feel. You had always made an effort to remember some of the eight hundred and ten rules, even when you both were not even on the same dorm, which he very much appreciated. But that made his mind wander, like it NEVER has before.

Wander at what, you ask? At you, obviously. He never seemed to get you off of his mind for second. Much to Riddle's dislike.

So, after accepting that he may have gotten some kind of liking to a troublemaker like you, He started to invite you to every cricket, game, every unbirthday party, everything within an personal schedule of his, of course.

He even started on keeping track of the time for your monthly evening of drinking tea. (With just you two) And with everything. Eventually, Riddle started to keep track and take care of you your schedule too.

You need to pass an exam but you know little about the subject? Riddle will make time to tutor you on Tuedays after school way before the exam comes. You want to try a tart just thirty minutes before the unbirthdy party? .......He could turn a blind eye. Just this once. (He's serious)

Needless to say, Riddle installed a whole new calendar app just to schedule your little time together.

Leona Kingscholar spoils you as much as possible. Once you two already started officially dating, you were already on his mind 24/7, (Just like Riddle) but Leona, didn't quite mind actually. Not that he would ever admit that to you or anyone on that matter.

But he started to pick up on the little things you do and like. You've been eyeing a dessert but don't have the money to spoil yourself? BAM. There's at least three of them in your bag after your done with Varga's class.

Did you just say that your headphones broke down? BAM. The next day, Leona casually sneaks one into your ear with your favorite song on while you're distracted eating lunch and telling him about your day in the botanical garden.

On the weekend, you've been wanting to go shopping for this shirt you liked online at the mall? EEEUGH fine, he'll go with you, but you're his for the next of the weekend. (Bro's acting as he didn't buy you the shirt you wanted plus brand new clothes you also liked at the spot) Yeah, you both COULD HAVE sleeped through the whole weekend together in each other's embrace, but eeing you smile while you try the new things you have is good enough.

Leona never saw the appeal of spoiling himself. He already had everything he could ever want. But when it comes to you, he could go to the end of the earth and waste every penny of his money just to see you smile once again.

And he's not planning on stopping anytime soon. (or ever...)

-

OK that's all!!! I had fun wrting for Leona for the second time, however, im not sure if i got Riddle's character completely right.. so any notes or criticism will be very much welcomed!! thanks for anyone who actually reads this i love you xoxo byeeeeee!!!

[redrose10]

The next chapter of Cinnamon & Vanilla should be out mid-to the end of next week. We’re getting close to the end and I really appreciate all the support on that one. Here is a little sneak peak at the next story that I plan to release. As you can probably tell I’m very Yoongi biased. This one will probably just be one big story instead of a multi chapter thing, but that could change. Let me know if this is something you’d actually be interested in reading!

Inn Keeper Yoongi x Female Author Reader

Summary: You have never experienced true love which is hilarious considering you write romance novels for a living. When you end up staying at The Interlude Inn located in Holly Falls you start to wonder if maybe the answer to your newest love story is sitting behind the welcome desk. Quickly, you find out that Min Yoongi hides a lot of pain and sorrow behind his shy smiles and quick glances.

Warnings: (may get updated) Swearing, character death, very very angsty for a while, mentions of physical and verbal abuse, bullying, a really mean letter, panic attacks, eventual light smut, it will get better

Teaser Below The Cut

Once you arrived at the airport you really wished you’d done a little more research about Holly Falls. After some digging and a conversation with a very outgoing Uber Driver you found out that eleven months out of the year the town is very low key and relaxed, but for one month it is a tourist hotspot thanks to the insane amount of blooming cherry blossom trees. According to your new Uber friend, people come to Holly Falls during this month to see the fields of trees blooming in all their glory. The normally quiet town embraces the crowds providing various festivals and parades and gimmicks to draw in the guests as well as their wallets. And of course you just happen to travel over there smack dab in the middle of it all.

The driver dropped you off in the middle of the fun so with your bag slung over your shoulder you started heading into different hotels trying to book a room. In the city you could walk into pretty much any hotel at any time and book a room. You had assumed it would be same in this small town so you had decided to wait to book a room until you could see them in person wanting to get the feel and make sure you chose the right fit. You imagine in any other month it would be much easier to obtain a place to stay here, but due to the large tourist presence every single hotel was completely booked for the entire month.

You were just about ready to give up and head to the airport to see about booking a flight home when an older gentleman came up to you carrying various handmade trinkets for sale.

“See anything you like miss? All of these are under $10.”, he asked.

Politely you smiled, “No thank you. Not right now.”

You thought he had left until you saw him dangling a hand painted sun catcher in front of you. The design a beautiful beautiful cherry blossom. Trying to bite your tongue and not snap at the elderly man you again shook your head.

“Here have it for free. You seem to need a little cheering up.”, he smiled.

Reaching up you grabbed the delicate glass from him, “Thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry if I came off rude. I’m just really stressed out right now.”

“Didn’t know about the cherry blossom season and now you can’t find a place to stay?”, he asked.

“How did you know?”, you replied wide eyed.

The elderly man chuckled while taking a seat next to you, “There’s always at least one person that gets stuck here with nowhere to stay because they didn’t know how crazy things can get around here this time of the year.”

“Mmh yeah that would be me this year. I need somewhere to stay for a couple weeks or I’m going to have to head back home.”

“You know there might be somewhere that still has a room available. It’s just outside all of the hubbub. About ten miles just over that hill. If you get to Taehyung’s Strawberry Farm then you’ve gone too far.”, he said pointing in the opposite direction of the festivities.

“Really? You think they’d have a room? I wonder why they wouldn’t be booked like every other place.”

The gentleman stood up from the bench you were both on, “Its worth a shot. It’s a little farther away from all the action than people like to be. Plus the owners are a little on the unique side.”

You were concerned at this statement. The last thing you wanted to do was end up being the story line of a true crime documentary.

He continued, “They are very nice people. A young man and his grandmother. They just tend to be very secluded and to themselves. It’s called Interlude Inn. You can’t miss it.”

You thanked him for the information and watched as he walked into a large group of people trying to sell the rest of his merchandise. Placing the delicate sun catcher in your bag you ordered another Uber to take you over to the inn. A familiar vehicle quickly pulled up in front of you with the same talkative man from earlier. You wondered how there weren’t any other drivers available, but you smiled as you slid in the back seat anyways.

“Leaving so soon?”, he asked.

You chuckled, “No I just need to find somewhere else to stay. Can you please take me to The Interlude Inn?”

Suddenly the man stopped, turning to look back at you.

“Miss you don’t want to stay there. Surely there’s somewhere else around here you can stay.”

“Every hotel is completely booked. If this inn doesn’t have a room then I’ll have to just go home.”

He sighed, “Alright miss. If you insist.”

He began the drive to your location. His words about finding somewhere else stuck in your mind.

“Sir?”

“Yes Miss”

“What you said earlier. What is so bad about this inn?”

“Well, the grandma, I think her name is Mae, is very sweet. She’s done the best she can with what she had. But that Min boy, he’s a little odd.”

“Ohhh…Like serial killer odd?”

The man chuckled, “No not that kind of odd. He’s just very quiet and keeps to himself, but he is polite. He’s never seemed to have any friends and I doubt he’s ever had any kind of relationship. He comes into town only a few times a year, mostly when his grandmother needs something. He doesn’t acknowledge anyone, even when they speak to him directly. People usually only stay at the inn as a last resort during this busy season.”

From what you’re hearing he seemed like just a quiet introverted person who loves his grandma. You weren’t sure why everyone seemed so leery of him.

The car pulled up infront of the inn. The large wooden sign out front verified you were indeed at The Interlude Inn. Thanking your driver you grabbed your bag and made your way up to the entrance.

The Inn looked cozy and welcoming. It was smaller than you had imagined. There couldn’t be more than three or four rooms. Off to the side you noticed a little garden with various plants starting to bloom.

On the door hung a welcome sign adorned with hand painted lady bugs and butterflies. Turning the handle you gently pushed in the door being greeted by a heavenly aroma making your stomach grumble. The entrance room which also doubled as a living room had two couches, one on either side of a coffee table. A television hung on the wall above a fireplace. In the corner was a small desk which you assume would be where you could request a room.

Walking over you noticed a younger man crouching down so he was eye level with one of the drawers. He appeared to be about your age, mid to late twenties. Black hair with a slight curl to it hung over his forehead. Beautiful cat like eyes and his soft lips formed into a deep pout. You wanted so badly to reach over and squeeze his chubby cheeks, but you knew that was a weirdness you didn’t want to invoke. He was fidgeting with a drawer that seemed to be stuck and you could here the argument he was having in soft whispers,

“Come on you stupid thing.”

“It shouldn’t be this difficult.”

“Please, I just need a pen and then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day.”

You chuckled hearing him begging the drawer to cooperate. Reaching into your bag you grabbed one of your spare pens and set it on the desk, “Here I have a pen you could use.”

The young man let out a sudden squeal after you startled him. He jumped backwards and landed on his behind with a loud thud.

“Oh no I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you had heard me come in.”, you apologized feeling terrible.

The poor guy sat on the ground trying to collect himself before bringing himself back to a standing position. That’s when you noticed his cheeks were a bright shade of red, making you want to squeeze them even more. The man didn’t say a word. His eyes were barely able to focus on you, instead they would move around the room before returning to you for just a second before he’d quickly look elsewhere.

“Ahh this must be the Min boy the driver was talking about?”, you thought to yourself.

[wisteria-lodge]

Can you talk about the cursed child?

I have two main questions when it comes to The Cursed Child. The first is... why was this project made? Because it wasn’t for the money, and it wasn’t for the fans, so I have to assume it was for JK Rowling herself. And my second question is - who is Jack Thorne????

Because he wrote it. John Tiffany is a director who works with Thorne and it's based on a “story” by JKR. But Jack Thorne is a kinda highbrow, kinda indie English playwright, and he clearly wrote most if not all of it. The biggest thing he had done at the time was a stage adaptation of indie Swedish vampire film Let the Right One In, so back 2016 I was asking myself - why is he attached to this project. (Is he related to JKR? Did he win a contest? Is he just that charming?) 

But now I’ve got a theory. See, Jack Thorne has one other very important credit. He is the showrunner and head writer of the well-regarded HBO His Dark Materials TV show adaptation… AND that TV show and Cursed Child were in production at the exact same time. There’s no real way of knowing which project came first - they were both announced in 2015, and Cursed Child was announced first, but then a stage play needs a whole lot less pre-production than three seasons of a prestige television show. 

What I think (but cannot prove) is this: JKR got wind of the His Dark Materials HBO TV series, and thought ‘I want one of those too.’ Especially because she is now in the process of getting exactly that.

I can’t actually prove that JKR is even aware of the His Dark Materials franchise… but I very much suspect that she is. Northern Lights/Golden Compass was released two years before Philosopher's Stone, and… a British author, YA , fantasy, seems like you’d want to read that for market research purposes alone - or at least keep tabs on it to make sure it was doing well. I also think there’s a similar vibe to the worldbuilding, a certain kind of ‘urban fantasy, but make it pre-industrial revolution’ that you don’t get with like, Edith Nesbit, the fantasy writer JKR most often credits as an influence.

Now His Dark Materials was a failed film series. They made one in 2007 with plans to make more, and it didn’t really go anywhere. I was a huge fan of both HDM and HP at the time, and I liked the film… but even then I thought it was hurting itself by trying so hard to be Harry Potter, when the tone of HDM was always darker and more sinister. It was nice to watch the HBO show treat the source material as basically a gritty adult drama (which it always was, just told through an intelligent child’s POV.) 

Marketing of movie vs marketing of TV show: 

Movie Lyra vs TV show Lyra:

HOWEVER. I think it would be very easy, if you were JKR, to see the new series as an adaptation of a children's book (comparable to Harry Potter), only marketed to adults. And you might think... that's kind of a cool idea. So I don’t know who approached who. But I do think that at some point Jack Thorne and J. K. Rowling were in the same room, and someone suggested… why don’t we give Harry Potter a little bit of the His Dark Materials treatment.

Because both vibe-wise and theme-wise, there are A LOT of comparisons you can make between the HBO His Dark Materials and The Cursed Child. They’re both fantasy with a kind of gloomy and oppressive feel. They focus a lot on bad parents, especially parents unable to communicate with their kids. They both feature alternate universes as a major theme, and the main plot of both revolves around a (doomed) attempt to resurrect a sacrificed innocent, and various adults attempting to separate a pair of friends. (The relationship between Albus and Scorpius is easily the best part of Cursed Child. Especially Scorpius, who is lovely.) But like… no one wanted a version of Harry Potter that felt like a knockoff version of His Dark Materials.

To me, Cursed Child feels less like an adaptation, and more of an attempt to recontextualize the original Harry Potter books into something more serious and more impressive. Cursed Child reframes Harry’s whole deal as being caught in a cycle of abuse due to the Dursleys… which the show frames so much more threateningly than the books ever did.

This play also does not frame Ron/Hermione as the best marriage... which makes me think of the when JKR told the Sunday Times

I wrote the Hermione/Ron relationship as a form of wish fulfillment. That's how it was conceived, really. For reasons that have very little to do with literature and far more to do with me clinging to the plot as I first imagined it... if I'm absolutely honest, distance has given me perspective on that. It was a choice I made for very personal reasons, not for reasons of credibility.

And then Cursed Child gives us a little Hermione/Snape, and we know how JKR feels about Snape. We revisit a lot of Slytherin characters actually, and it turns out they’re not just bad guys! Albus is in Slytherin (even though the end of Book 7 was written in a way that REALLY heavily implied he would ask to be Gryffindor just like Harry did.) The ‘all Slytherins are baddies’ thing seems to be an aspect of the worldbuilding that JKR is attempting to retcon. The earliest example of this is the 2008 interview where she talks about “Slughorn galloping back with Slytherins [to rejoin the battle of Hogwarts] but they’d gone off to get reinforcements first,” which… does not happen. That is not a thing that happens in the book. Also she was okay with the last three Potter films framing Draco way more positively than the books do, a trend which continues into Cursed Child. Draco’s easily the best parent in the whole thing.)

And (possibly the most important bit of recontextualization…) I think Cursed Child was supposed to make the Epilogue seem good, instead of something that all her fans either made fun of… or completely ignored. 

In a lot of ways, I think JKR is doing a George Lucas, but instead of going back and re-cutting, re-mastering and adding to the original work the way he is - she’s writing more and more sequels (and more and more additional material) in an attempt to make  the problems of the earlier books go away. 

I could talk for a very long time about The Cursed Child. Yes, everyone is out of character, yes it’s world breaking, it contradicts the original series all the time, it doesn’t work structurally, it's stupid that the villain is Voldemort's secret daughter Evil Tonks, and it reads like fanfiction (in the sense that it uses tons of fanfiction tropes, often not super well.) I probably will talk about that stuff more eventually, but first I wanted to make sense of why it even exists, in the first place. 

[litnerdwrites]

It's interesting how Nesta had to apologise for something she wasn't even in the wrong of doing while Rhys, who overreacted by threatening to kill her (for a mistake he made) and chasing her out of the city, did not have to. Especially, after it was canonically established by Feyre herself that he did not have the right to do that..

And for someone who claims to write about badass female mcs who crush patriarchy and choose the course of their own lives, shouldn't an apology scene for something in which a female's right to information on her own body was undermined be a fundamental part of the book?

I mean, she could add a bonus chapter about the characters in question fucking to make babies but had to keep the apology off-page? Weird.

The only somewhat sufferable part of the book was the scenes with the Valkyries and the smut (if you ignore the poor timing).

I don't know if it's my eldest daughter syndrome acting up but I feel strongly about this.

I agree completely. I won't deny that Nesta has some things to apologies for, but so does Rhysand, and Feyre and Mor. I'd even argue that the things the IC put her through negate the need for her to apologies, or at least makes it a little less urgent/important than the apologies she's owed. This is mostly due to the fact that Nesta's so-called crimes amount to a bad attitude (most on page examples of which are pretty understandable to me), and issues she had with Feyre in childhood. Meanwhile, the IC's actions are immature and ignorant at best, and extremely abusive at worst.

Honestly, I don't think any of them, much less Rhysand, see what they did as a mistake. If any of them did, they wouldn't have made her walk through those woods. Feyre would've demanded Nesta be brought back otherwise, but she didn't.

As for Rhysand, honestly the part where he hugged Nesta gave me ick. Especially when Nesta said he'd been acting like a brother the whole time because he hadn't. He abused her. He broke her down. He only showed any semblance of decency (even then it wasn't much) when she did something to benefit him.

Offering pity jobs for somebody else's sake without taking into account Nesta's strengths or passions into account isn't what a brother, or anybody who cares for her, would do. Staring at her like a circus attraction when she enters the room isn't something a brother would do. Forcing her to social events just to ignore her isn't something a brother would do. Financially abusing her, refusing to give her a salary for her work during the war, along with her inheritance, is not something a brother would do. Not caring for her wellbeing beyond how her sister feel's is not something a brother could do. I could go on.

I think, at the end of the day, this amounts to a simple fact. SJM clearly doesn't see anything wrong with the things she writes and narrative she creates. No matter how you argue that ACOSF is a healing story, not a redemption story, it doesn't matter. Through analysing the sext, the author clearly shows how she feels about Nesta. Looking at what she says about the book, the author clearly has little understanding of mental health, and hasn't done enough research on it to be able to write a healing arc that isn't straight up abuse/torture (seriously, the bar is in the crust of the earth).

ACOSF could've been the best book in the series. All of the material, the concepts, the potential was there. Nesta's story was set up in ACOFS, and perhaps I wouldn't have minded the actions of the IC as much (from a literary perspective anyway) if they had been acknowledged as wrong and the IC apologised. I don't think anyone would've minded the locked in the HOW plot either, if, at some point, the characters acknowledge how abusive it was. If the narrative itself acknowledged how messed up it was, and did something about it.

If Cassian apologised for abandoning her after the war, Cassian especially. If Feyre apologised for not trying to reach out in a way that Nesta was comfortable with. If Elain apologised for not being there for Nesta the way Nesta was for her. If Mor apologised for, intentionally or not, isolating Nesta from the rest of the court. If Amren apologised for her comments. If Rhys apologised for sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

Rhys apologising for the hike, or threatening to kill her would mean nothing because both he and the narrative don't see anything wrong with his treatment of her. If he did, then the forced training/library/stuck in the how part would've ended half way through the book.

The part that infuriates me the most, however, is that they don't see their wrong doings at all. They still think they're doing the right thing and that they know everything. It's messed up.

[nymph-ette111]

Hiiii, I really like your writing and style and I wanted to see if you could right eyeless jack x fem reader with really big scars from acid on her back (not self inflicted).

No need to rush and I hope you have a good day 😭🩷

WARNINGS; MENTIONS OF CHEMICAL AND FIRE BURNS, INACCURACIES BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO RESEARCH SHIT

AUTHOR'S NOTE; I just realized that I don't put warnings in any of my posts, oops... also the information online wasn't really useful for what I had in mind so I hope this is good enough :( anyways love you nonnie and I'm so happy you like my style and writing<3

-let me tell you this... Jack is the last person EVER to judge someone, physically at least.

-he relates to you on a certain level.

-both having your own body disfigured from the selfish hands of others, with no power to heal the damage that has been done.

-imagine the first time he saw your scars. whether it be changing your clothes in front of him or wearing something slightly revealing.

-he wouldn't have a reaction. why would he? Jack acknowledges the fact that everyone wants their privacy to be respected. he wouldn't straight up throw thousands of questions at you; who did this, how did it happen, when did it happen, no. he'd be extremely respectful. if you didn't bring up the topic why should he? last thing he wants to do is make you uncomfortable or trigger any bad memories.

-but don't get me wrong... he might be a little curious about the cause of the injury... what type of burn is it?

-he'd put two and two together just from observing the looks of it and come to the conclusion that it's infact, a chemical burn.

-it's just that polymathic ( did I use that correctly) side of his brain that pushes him to think such thoughts. he intends no harm. it's up to you if you want tell him any further than that.

-if you do, he'd gladly do even more research on his own.

-he just loves to learn these types of things and how it affects the human body and stuff :3 even if it's outside of his profession and field of study.

-if you end up running out of any creams or ointments there's a pretty big chance he has it in that makeshift pharmacy of his; basically a cabinet full of different types of medicine and such.

^I'm not very sure if you have to use any creams to prevent irritation or anything like that for acid burn scars, the internet isn't being very helpful for me :(

-whether you're confident and very much over the damage or insecure of it. it doesn't matter how you view your scars, because he'll always find himself admiring it from time to time. it's just a part of you that he loves.

-will not tolerate any nasty stares or unnecessary comments directed towards you.

-if you're comfortable with it, you'd often feel Jack's rough hands gently caressing your back late at night whenever you two are sharing the bed <3

[life-at-hogwarts]

In the shadow of death (Ominis x GN!reader)

Pairing: Ominis x reader

Warnings: angst, trauma, fluff, mentions of animal abuse,

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: It’s the day of Noctua’s funeral. After spending the night in Ominis’ room, the two of you have to act normal in front of his family.

“I’m sorry. This was entirely inappropriate. It has just been a hard day and I needed it.”

“Glad to be of help,” you replied breathlessly, your head still spinning from the kiss

Author’s note: Oof this one took me way too long. Possibly inspired by TVD. Also after obsessively researching the Gaunt family tree I have decided I am going against headcanon and Ominis is the older brother in this one instead of Marvolo.

Part 1     Part 2

Also I finally managed to set up an AO3 account if you prefer to read it there

Your face was still flushed from the last kiss when you made your way back to your room, sneaking through the quiet corridors completely lost in thought, smiling to yourself as you relished in memories of last night. It felt like a dream, how could that have been real? Two days ago, you had just been friends and now the taste of his lips still lingered on yours. The strangest thing was that it did not feel odd at all. All you could think about was doing it again. You had almost reached your room when Sebastian blocked your way, leaning against the wall with a stern look on his face.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Your cheeks were burning, and you avoided his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve known Ominis for a long time. He doesn’t let people in. I’ve never seen him open up to anyone but Anne and myself, but for some reason he trusts you. So, for all our sakes, I hope you understand how much that means and honor it. If you do anything to hurt him…”

This took you by surprise. You had expected him to tease you and make fun of you but not this. Of course, you knew how close these two were, but you had never seen him this protective over his friend. If anything, he was usually the one who put him in danger.

“My intentions are pure, I swear,” you assured him solemnly and held his gaze.

“Good. He deserves the best. I’m putting my trust in you.”  After a short pause he added, “But be careful around his family. Don’t let them see what is going on between you two. They’ll use it to hurt him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Love is a weakness. Don’t think they won’t exploit it.”

You wanted to ask what he meant by that, but Sebastian was done talking and moved out of your way. You could feel his eyes following you when you walked down the corridor and finally disappeared into your room. That was odd, you thought to yourself, I have to find out what that is about.

---

Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt did not attend breakfast which made this meal more pleasant for everyone and even Ominis seemed somewhat relaxed with only his siblings around. You had seen Marvolo around in school, but Ominis avoided him as best as he could, so you did not know much about him. He was a year younger than the three of you, but no one could tell by looking at him. Marvolo took after Erebus, even some of his mannerisms were the same. You had to be careful around him. Metis on the other hand was much younger, probably around ten, and seemed like the least threatening member of the Gaunt family. You sat down next to her and gave her a little smile.

“Are you a Slytherin too?” she immediately asked.

“No. I’m not,” you started, but before you could elaborate Metis interrupted you.

“Mother said you are a half-blood. Maybe that’s why you’re not in Slytherin.”

Again with the pure blood mania. You suppressed an annoyed sigh and tried to stay polite. She was still a child after all.

“You know the sorting hat doesn’t really care about that. It’s what inside of you that counts.”

“Well, I am going to be in Slytherin like my brothers and everyone else in my family. It is the best house,” the little girl declared proudly.

Before you could answer, Marvolo chimed in, “Of course you will. You’re a Gaunt after all, our bloodline is not muddied with muggle blood.”

“Marvolo! Metis! That’s enough! Apologize right now. You are being rude to our guest,” Ominis hissed through gritted teeth, visibly irritated by his sibling’s behavior. Marvolo only glared at his brother defiantly and you could sense the tension building up between the two.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Anne!” Sebastian exclaimed and impetuously ran to his sister pulling her into a hug. It was a welcome distraction from the tense situation. Ominis shot his brother another angry look, before getting up to greet Anne. They hugged each other affectionately, then he asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you, of course. I’m so sorry about your aunt.”

You didn’t know Anne very well, but you liked her. She was confident and forward, and you liked the effect she had on Sebastian. When she was around, he was different, less angry. He almost looked happy. Seeing the three of them together, you caught a glimpse of the bond they shared and couldn’t help but feel a little left out. Sebastian picked up on this and quickly declared, “I’m going to show Anne around, if you don’t mind. I need some time to catch up with my sister.” With that the two of them walked towards the door. Halfway through, Sebastian turned around, made sure Ominis’ siblings weren’t watching, and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, making you blush.

Since neither one of you particularly wanted to return to the table, you quickly followed them out of the room. “You’re cute when you’re blushing,” Ominis whispered in your ear, and you shuddered when you felt his hot breath on your neck. All you could think about were his lips on your skin, but he had already pulled back. He kept his distance on your way up to his room, and you didn’t attempt to move any closer. Whenever he moved around the house he seemed to be on edge, and you wondered if he was afraid to bump into his father again. After what you had seen last night, you understood why he kept his guard up at all times around here.

“I just love how welcoming your siblings are. Makes me feel right at home here,” you remarked dryly, as you entered his room.

“Welcome to pure blood aristocracy,” he sighed and tiredly rubbed his face.

You waited a moment, contemplating whether or not this was the right time to ask about Sebastian’s cryptic words of caution. When Ominis didn’t say anything, you went for it. “Sebastian warned me about your family. He said I should be careful around them because they’d use it to hurt you. What did he mean by that?”

“He is right. Don’t show them that you care, or they will use it against you,or more likely, against me.”

You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something you were missing and dug deeper, “I’m afraid I don’t understand. What is this about?” As soon as the words had left your mouth his eyes darkened, and you knew that it must have been something bad. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me.”

Ominis exhaled deeply and closed his eyes before answering. “No. It’s okay. You should know.”  Then he searched for your gaze, took another deep breath and started to speak, “I used to have a pet snake. Balthazar. He was my best friend and I loved him to death. My parents would use Balthazar to… incentivize me to do stuff I didn’t want to. They used my love for him to make me compliant. One day, I refused to do whatever it was they asked me to. They made me watch as they tortured and killed him. That was my punishment.”

“That is barbaric!”

“Then you know why you should be careful. I have seen them use the Unforgivables on people and I’m afraid they wouldn’t hesitate to cast them on you to teach me a lesson. My family is dangerous. I mean it,” he said in a grave voice.

“Understood. I will refrain from snogging you in front of your family then,” you responded wryly, earning yourself an exasperated sigh. “Hey. Loosen up. I will stay with Sebastian and Anne. Don’t worry, I understand that it’s not a joke,” you quickly added. You didn’t doubt that Erebus was capable of doing these things.

“Good. I would never be able to forgive myself if anything happened to you,” Ominis murmured and placed a kiss on your forehead.

------

Later, all of you made your way to the small graveyard at the back of the Gaunt estate. The guests started arriving soon after. There was no crying at this funeral, only grim faces and women pointedly dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs. Even though Noctua had disappeared years ago, this felt very odd, and you uncomfortably shifted in your seat. Nothing about this felt authentic. It was all one big show for the guests. Every wizarding family of high standing had come, you recognized representatives from the Blacks, the Malfoys, the Carrows, the Lestranges and the Notts, as well as some politicians you knew from the Daily Prophet.  You doubted that any of them had known, much less cared about Noctua. The only one who was truly devastated by her loss was Ominis, but even he did not show it. Forced to sit with his family in the front row, he did an excellent job in doing what everyone expected from him, accepting condolences with a solemn nod, displaying his grief the appropriate way. It pained you that he had to go through this by himself, but you had promised to keep your distance in front of his family.

After the service people broke up into small groups, some staying to pay their respects, others already heading towards the house where the wake would take place. Ominis finally broke free of his family and joined you and Sebastian, who was in conversation with another boy your age. When he saw Ominis come towards your group, the boy sneered, “I see the prodigal son has returned.”

“Temporarily.”

“I heard you managed to find Slytherin’s scriptorium. Didn’t think you had the stomach for it. You were such a pansy when it came to getting your hands dirty,” he scoffed.

“How is your bedwetting problem? Did you finally manage to get it under control? I feel sorry for your roommates,” Ominis asked loudly, a wicked smile on his face. You snorted, trying to hold back your laughter and Sebastian almost spit out his drink. The boy shot you an angry look and stormed off.

“My cousin. Always manages to push my buttons. Obnoxious little prick,” Ominis sighed, and it took all of your strength to not laugh out loud. The way Ominis could tear into someone without ever losing his composure never ceased to entertain you.

Anne joined the three of you, looking awfully pale and excused herself from the wake. Her eyes were glassy with pain and you and Sebastian quickly escorted her back to the house. Now that you saw her like this you understood Sebastian’s insane quest to cure her. It was awful seeing her trying to hide her pain and it must be even worse for Sebastian to see his twin like this. You couldn’t imagine what type of person would do this to an innocent girl. She collapsed into a soft chair and quickly sent her brother away to get a glass of water. Then she turned to you and sighed, “Sorry, you had to see me like this. Damned curse. I hate being this useless.” Not knowing how to respond to this you gave her an awkward smile and waited for her to continue. “I miss Hogwarts, you know? I miss messing around with these two dickheads. I’m glad they have you now. Someone has to keep them in check.”

“I didn’t mean to take your place. Sebastian is relentlessly searching for something to lift your curse, so there is still hope that you can come back,” you quickly replied, and couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.

“That’s what worries me. I know my brother. He doesn’t know when to stop. I’m afraid he will go down a dark path if he doesn’t accept that some things cannot be changed. Please promise me you won’t let that happen. Don’t let him loose himself. Promise me.”

“I promise I’ll do what I can. I just don’t want to take away his hope.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that you’re looking after both of them. I have never seen Ominis so smitten. You’ll be good for him, I can tell.” You froze and stared at her in terror. Were you this transparent? Did everyone know?

“Oh, come on. Did you think Seb wouldn’t tell me about this?” she laughed, the same mischievous glint that you knew so well shining in her eyes. When Sebastian came back the two of you were laughing and exchanging stories about your adventures and some color had returned to Anne’s face. Solomon was on his way to pick up Anne and bring her home and while you waited with them for the arrival of their uncle, more and more people made their way back to the house as a light rain had started to fall. After a quick chat with the headmaster Sebastian had decided to go to Feldcroft with his sister and uncle and spend the night at home, leaving you to attend the wake by yourself.

Feeling a bit lost you entered the hall where everyone had gathered for the wake and searched the room for Ominis who was nowhere to be seen. Before anyone could invite you to take a seat at the table you quickly slipped out of the room again and went looking for him.

You made your way back to the place you had last seen him and sure enough your instincts proved to be right, and you found him standing alone at the freshly dug grave. He didn’t move when he heard you approach, and you quietly took your place at his side.

“How is Anne?” Ominis asked softly.

“Better. Solomon took her and Seb home. They told me to apologize on their behalf and hope you understand.”

“Of course. I’m just glad Anne is alright. Thank you for staying,” he said, reaching for your hand and interlocking your fingers before he continued, “I’m glad I came. Despite everything, I’m glad I could be here for Noctua. I know she died a long time ago, but I needed to bring her home. Even if my father does not seem like it, I think he loved her very much. She was the only one who could challenge him, and he wouldn’t mind. I wish you’d met her. Just to see that not all Gaunts are…well you saw how they are.”

“She sounds like a great person. I’m sure she would be proud of you.”  For a moment you stood like this in silence, watching the rain fall onto the grave.

All of a sudden, the silence was broken by a clap of thunder so loud it made Ominis jump, and the sky came crashing down in a sudden downpour. Lightning cracked over your heads, painting the sky in a shade of purplish grey and the trees on the edge of the property bent over under the sheer force of the wind ripping through their branches. You tightened your grip on his hand and started to run for cover, pulling him with you. Sensing his hesitation, you slowed your pace but to your surprise he took the lead, running even faster. You weren’t running to escape the rain anymore – it was too late for that anyway – you were running just for the sake of running. The wind lashed rain painfully hard into your faces but for some reason you didn’t mind. By the time you reached the nearest building you were both soaked and out of breath, giggling like small children.

You tugged on Ominis’ arm, trying to get him to follow you inside the barn but he didn’t move. Instead, he lifted his face towards the sky and closed his eyes, looking at peace. It seemed like for a moment he had forgotten about everything that had happened the last few days and a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He stayed like this for a while and you just watched him, admiring the way his shirt clung to his body and the water dripped from his hair. When you moved closer you could see the raindrops in his long eyelashes, catching the dim light like small diamonds. Gods he was beautiful. What you would give to capture this moment in a painting to be able to hold on to it forever. If only you could make him see himself the way you did. Was this what it feels like to fall in love?

Finally, he opened his eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he breathed in a ragged voice.

“I can’t help it,” you retorted, but forced yourself to back away from him only to be pulled back in with one swift movement. Ominis’ lips crashed against yours hungrily and you buried your fingers in his wet hair, all too eager to give in. There was a ferocity and desperation in the way he pressed his mouth on yours, quite literally taking your breath away for a second. You could taste the rain on his lips and deepened the kiss, taking the lead as your hand moved to his throat. He leaned against your touch, before pulling away abruptly, as if he had come back to his senses.

“I’m sorry. This was entirely inappropriate. It has just been a hard day and I needed it.”

“Glad to be of help,” you replied breathlessly, your head still spinning from the kiss. You had never felt like this before. He didn’t want to kiss you, he needed it, and you felt the same way. Every fiber in your body was longing for him, for his touch, for his taste, his smell. You wanted to lose yourself inside of him, erase all borders until you didn’t know anymore where you ended, and he began.

Ominis turned his head sharply, his entire body alert, and brought you back to reality.

“Did you hear that? Who is there? Show yourself.”

The barn door was cracked open. Ominis marched towards it, his wand in front of his face, determined to find out if anyone was in there and you quickly followed. A small silhouette emerged from the shadows and flit past Ominis running towards the house. Metis. “Well, that’s not good. Let’s not freak out, alright? No one listens to little kids; we can talk our way out of this,” you said, and to your surprise Ominis only let out a frustrated sigh and nodded. Still, on the way back to the main house he was sure to keep an appropriate distance between the two of you.

No one said anything when you returned to the wake, in fact no one even seemed to have noticed that you were gone in the first place. Ominis joined his family at the head of the table while you took a seat between Professor Black and some ministry officials, feeling aggressively out of place. Fortunately, everybody else had eaten by now and some of the guests were leaving already. You couldn’t wait to get out of there and by the looks of it, Ominis felt the same. Metis was nowhere to be seen. After another hour that felt like an eternity Professor Black was finally ready to go and insisted on escorting Marvolo, Ominis and you back to Hogwarts. You took the floo network directly to the headmaster’s office, all too eager to leave the Gaunt estate, and its inhabitants, behind.

Black quickly dismissed you with the instruction to go straight back to your respective dorms and Ominis was quick to make his way down the winding staircase. You wanted to follow him, but someone grabbed your elbow, forcing you to stay. “Hey, half-blood. Welcome to the family,” Marvolo whispered in your ear, so quietly that only you could hear. When you turned around to look at him, he gave you a vicious smile, that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

[starlightkun]

love bites ❧ teaser [sungchan]

❧ teaser word count: 746 | full fic: 25.5k ❧ warnings: cursing, talking about like werewolf biting/marking and scenting and stuff, this is a werewolf fic either you’re into this stuff or you’re not lol ❧ genre: fluff, so incredibly fluffy and sweet it should’ve been a warning honestly, established relationship, modern magical creatures au, college au, werewolf sungchan, human reader, ft. siren shotaro, werewolf jeno & various magical neos, same universe as strawberry sunday, sequel to changer ❧ extra info: this is a sequel to changer! it cannot be read as a standalone, you must read changer first! this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe (aside from changer to this one), they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: so this is technically the spiritual threequel (fourqual?) to my werewolf jeno fics (pupsick + abh) but you still don’t have to read those to understand this one at all! this is absolutely meant to be read by itself (after changer, ofc) ❧ estimated release: saturday, november 18, 2023 2:00 p.m. eastern time

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

“So what were you so invested in on your phone?” Shotaro asked, cracking open a seaweed-infused sparkling tea drink popular with younger sirens. “You usually love Real Sirens.”

You popped the tab on your soda, taking a sip before answering. “I was doing some research, on what we were talking about earlier—”

“I thought you said there wasn’t a lot of research on half-werewolves.”

“Not a lot of scholarly research. But I found some people posting online about their own experiences either as half-werewolves themselves, or dating half-werewolves. About the scenting.” You explained, pausing to take a bite of your food. “And it seems like the general consensus is that most likely because their sense of smell isn’t as great as full werewolves, but they still can smell that kind of stuff, unlike humans, half-werewolves get a little more… intense with scenting behaviors.”

“Gross.”

“I meant the clothes and the hugging, dude.” You soft-balled a kick at his shin under the table. “Not my fault you’re immediately gross.”

“Does it ever stop?”

You grimaced, “Well…”

“No?” He asked with wide eyes, presumably having the rest of his recently renewed lease flashing before them.

“Again, there aren’t a lot of half-werewolves. Or at least ones talking about it. But there is one half-werewolf/human couple I found who says that the scenting took better, and the behaviors therefore decreased after…” You trailed off, messing with the strings of Sungchan’s hoodie.

“After…?”

“After they followed through with the werewolf mating bite.”

The siren stared at you blankly. “Oh.”

“They’re the only ones I could find online who has done that, so who knows if that’s a guaranteed result, not to mention that at that point they were also human married, and had been together for over five years, so there was definitely just a lot of security in their relationship not to mention they’d been living together for years so they were going to smell like each other anyway—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Shotaro stopped your defensive rambles gently. “You two don’t need to do that for me. Just wear his clothes and be annoying, it’s fine.”

You stabbed your fork into a bun. “Yeah, I know that.”

“That was some weird stressing of your words there, Y/N. Anything you want to share?”

You let out a long, steady breath, your lips just a centimeter away from being pressed together. Your mind was swirling with the memory of Sungchan’s last shift. Of him asking you to take his bite. He hadn’t mentioned it again since, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially because he hadn’t brought it up again since. And seeing his dad’s last night…

“Sungchan mentioned it once, but I don’t know how serious he was being, and he hasn’t brought it up again,” you admitted before tearing into the bun you’d just assaulted. It was filled with delightfully seasoned veggies wrapped in smooth, pillowy dough. God, these really were some of the best steamed buns you’d ever had.

Shotaro practically did a spit take with his tea, dribbling the sip he’d just taken back into the bottle. “He what? When?”

“Shotaro—”

“No, he brought up essentially werewolf engagement to you— What? While you two were playing video games or something? And neither of you mentioned this to me?”

“It wasn’t like that but... sure. I guess.”

“No, no, what was the context? Post-nut confessions or something?”

“God! Why are you like this?” You groaned, dragging a hand over your face in exasperation. “No, he let me be with him for his last shift, it was when he was coming out of it. He wasn’t all there, he was tired, he had all the extra adrenaline and everything else going through his body still.”

He didn’t seem convinced. “So I was right.”

You gave him an unamused look. “Think more like a boxer with a concussion.”

“And you haven’t brought it up with him since?”

“I was just focused on making sure he was okay. And now, I don’t know, he hasn’t mentioned it again. Maybe he wasn’t serious about it?”

“If he was... would you say yes? To be werewolf married?” The siren waggled his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Or half-werewolf married? Half-werewolf half-married?”

“They really need to make like even a single MCS class mandatory in the Gen Ed requirements, because what the hell are you saying to me right now?”

“You know what I mean. Would you say yes?”

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

[stardustizuku]

So, I’m not gonna tag this. Mostly because I don’t want to blow this more out of proportion than it was.

For starters and some context, I am Latina. I am not considered white by the standards of the country I’m living in. But I am considered white in the country I’m from. So I am acutely aware of how racism diverts itself from culture to culture. What you consider the “other” varies from the culture you are speaking from.

I have stated, I am not Asian. The context of what I know, entails as racism in Japan and how it presents its extremely limited. I have read books, watched documentaries, done research but it’s not empirical and that’s something that drastically changes the quality of information I could give.

We have three ways of framing any given analysis of racism - one, using my cultural context of dissecting the “other” (which would consider religious background, skin color and class). Two, the cultural context of the author’s background, in this case Japan’s (which would consider skin color and nationality). And three and my least favorite, American cultural context, which places an uncomfortable amount of emphasis on skin color.

The reason I don’t like talking about a piece of media through the lenses of American Cultural Context is because that on itself is a form of American Imperialism (from my humble point of view as a Latina who suffered from American Imperialism).

It’s a way for Americans to position their own racism problems in the center of the conversation. Forcing everyone to comply to what their idea of “white” and “black” means.

And unfortunately, for everyone here involved, that’s the lense through which half this site uses as a default.

So you would understand my exasperation, when I see someone: not explain the cultural context through which they’re analyzing racism, explain little to nothing abt said cultural context, and ranting off more about the morality of the text than actually discuss any of these points with any nuance.

In my mind, I have my own cultural background at the forefront. Unfortunately, I have the American cultural background jammed in the back of my mind too. And suddenly you insert the Japanese cultural background handfisted in with the grace of a red eyed bull in a glass shop.

I get fed up, I don’t understand what’s going on, I make an untagged post criticizing the PERSON’s analysis skills (which I’m sorry if I’m mean, but it sorta is bad).

I never said or implied “this work of fiction doesn’t contain problems”, I just said I wished the people who criticized it had the skills to properly explain their point.

Which, by the way, part of that writing skills needed is understanding that your interpretation is not gospel.

Cause like, I had a COMPLETELY different interpretation on Lanzenave. And the country to me, has never come across as a villain.

Like, let’s look for a second MY cultural context, and you’ll understand why I was very confused by the original post.

I genuinely 100% thought Lanzanavians were being portrayed as the GOOD guys.

For starters, the “dark-skinned” comment comes in Part 5 Volume 5 where it comes from being compared to royalty - which may I remind you WE HATE. Like at this point the Royals have been portrayed as incompetent buffoons who have done nothing more than fuck up their country.

To me, this was less of an indicator of racial profiling, and more of “they are different from the awful royals”.

Which, in my mind, made them better.

A way to say, whatever crimes the royal family has committed, it bears nothing of the actual intentions and wants of Lanzenavians.

Thing that is sorta supported by the rest of the narrative.

Lanzenave was once a country with no King. Then a King came from a magical place across the sea. But as he became more and more useless, they decided to send him back.

It looked, to me, like Lanzenave was a colonized country, that used their King’s greed to get rid of him. It’s stated that many people who came from Lanzenave weren’t just ‘natives’, but nobles.

In my country we have a term “malinche” which refers to anyone who thinks “first world countries” are better than your homeland. A cheap attempt to replicate it and discard your country for the sake of false status - is considered a laughing stock.

Which makes obvious why, the way I interpret it, people who wanted to leave Lanzenave for Yurgenschmidt never registered as actual Lanzenavians. To me they were malinches. Actual Lanzenavians were those who stayed in their country, those who embraced technology and rejected mana and feystones.

In my eyes, Lanzenavians were always smart, hardworking people being exploited and colonized. Who managed to expel the poison. The closing of the gate to Yurgenschmidt wasn’t a punishment. It was freedom. A guarantee that their colonizers wouldn’t return.

The people who invaded, were always that. Colonizers. Nobles. Rich people who think they’re better than poor people.

To me this was Latinoamerican culture in a nutshell. A place where, where you consider yourself to be from, carries way more meaning than skin color or appearance. If you say you’re Mexican, you are Mexican. It doesn’t matter what you look like. But if you renounce your heritage and call yourself “American”, you get mockery and contempt. Cause Americans won’t take you in, they don’t think you are part of them. But you’d rather not be a part of them, than be a part of us? Then follow their rules, and whatever punishment follows - it’s rightfully deserved.

So you would imagine my surprise, when I see someone with a different perspective. Noting something true that I hadn’t realized - this is a Japanese story. Applying the lenses of your own cultural context isn’t how the story is meant to be interpreted.

But instead of anything productive to be had in a conversation, I’m met with…well. People picking a fight.

They genuinely don’t consider or want, to be honest, any sort of different perspective. What they want is to complaint.

They’re Angry that some of us enjoy the story. That we have different things to enjoy out of a story. That we aren’t focusing enough on the problematic aspects of the text. Reading untagged posts and forming a convoluted opinion off two or three sentences I make. Going into huge tangents that completely miss the point.

I think it’s important, if you wanna actually talk instead of throwing buzzwords around, to lay groundwork of what want.

Again, I’m not criticizing wanting to discuss the issues of racism and xenophobia that exist - but I am sorta criticizing your ability to convey a message.

I’m not saying AoB is particularly progressive. But the books do criticize royalty, generational power, the patriarchy and systems that oppress women, the Sakoku Period, inequality in education, restriction of information and censorship…which are issues that I very rarely see tackled in this G E N R E (bcs obv if you switch to other genres and books you will find it. But shoujo isekais that talk abt royalty are rarely ballsy enough to directly criticize the power fantasy they’re writing for young women).

This is honestly a very toxic mentality. I made this for the few ppl who might be following this thing - to me Lanzenavians were always very cool.

[abiiors]

George is black cat bf and golden retriever gf coded <3 (do what you will with that)

Sorry it took me so long to do this and also this is so sappy but I hope you like 💞

I’m already saying this but I’m gonna write a smutty part 2 for this 

Support

George is content sitting in the corner of the room tonight. 

He leans back on the leather sofa, feeling quite at home in his expensive and stylish suit and sips on some Scotch. People mill about around him; chatting, engaging in small talk (the horrors) but his eyes are focused on the person at the centre of it all. 

You flit around from one person to the other and then to the next. They’re all here for you after all—your adoring fans and critics alike, here to get their book signed and have a chance to meet their favourite author. Most of them are young people, girls just entering their twenties and boys who are the literary types. Some of them have tried to chat with George too. 

To his credit, he’s done a great job of blending in with the crowd, just another fan but he does get recognised every once in a while. He smiles and nods, says a polite hello but makes sure to tell them that he’s just there in support tonight. 

The small bookstore is decorated in the colour scheme of the book—A soft pink and red, hints of teal and gold but they just barely peek through. He’s read this book now, more times than perhaps even your editor has. He has been here for all the drafts, for all the frustrated tears and the whoops of joy. He has been there to drag you back to bed when the kitchen light is still on at 3 am and you’re hunched over your laptop, or neck-deep in research. He’s been there through your indecisiveness between two cover designs and your countless attempts at taking the perfect author photo and now here he sits tonight. 

Every time he looks at you, at the brilliant joy on your face, he feels the ball of pride in his chest grow bigger. 

Halfway through the conversation you’re having, your eyes wander over to him. He is, of course, already looking so he just smiles wider and raises his glass in cheers. The smile slips a little when he sees you looking apologetic. He’s about to indicate something when he sees you excuse yourself and run over to him. 

The gorgeous purple dress he’s helped you pick out sways and swishes perfectly every time you move. And now as you get closer, he’s once again in awe of how well you’ve carried yourself this evening. 

‘Sorry, sorry,’ you pant a little, ‘I’ve practically abandoned you all night, I’m so sorry.’

The apologetic smile is back on your face and he all but pulls you down on his lap right there. 

‘Baby, don’t apologise,’ he extends a hand for you to hold, ‘it’s your event!’

You grab a hold of it gratefully and sink into the sofa next to him. It’s been a fantastic evening but it’s also been tiring, to say the least. The drink in his hand looks delicious and he wastes no time handing you the glass once he sees you eyeing it. 

‘Go on,’ he signals, ‘you look like you need a breather.’

This is how it goes. He offers a drink, offers to listen to whatever you have to say; be it after a frustrating day of work or right in the middle of a bustling event. There are several tangents to your stories, there always are. Incoherent thoughts that need to be all brought together first before they can be streamlined. 

‘I just,’ you take a sip and let it rest in your mouth for a second, ‘I can’t believe it’s out into the world you know? I worked so hard on it.’

‘I know you did,’ he encourages. 

‘I don’t want to let go of her,’ you confess. ‘All the nights I spent doing research and all the revisions and new drafts. It feels like this book is a part of me and now that she’s finally out into the world, I’m gonna have to let her go.’

George rests a hand on your knee. He knows this feeling perfectly well; he knows what it’s like to feverishly work on something, to dedicate all your waking hours to one thing before it’s finally time to put it into the world. He knows the bittersweetness that comes with it. And he feels a new kinship when he sees it on your face tonight. 

‘It will always be a part of you,’ he says quietly, ‘even when you start something new, even when your next project consumes you.’

You consider his words, let them mull over as you take another sip. 

‘God, you’re so wise,’ you tease. 

That makes him laugh. It’s deep and rich, his first real laugh all evening that goes beyond polite smiles. ‘It’s all the weed,’ he whispers conspiratorially. 

‘You’re right, though. I—’

‘Sorry, excuse me?’ A sheepish-looking guy cuts in. ‘I was just wondering if you were free for a photo?’ He extends a hand in greeting, names the literary magazine he’s from and George watches the recognition dawn on your face. Along with the excitement. 

You’re already turning to him, about to say sorry but he interrupts quickly. ‘Go. Be a social butterfly.’ Then he leans forward and presses a soft kiss on your lips, ‘I’m so proud of you,’ he whispers, ‘and I’m right here.’

You smile gratefully and hand his glass back to him and just like that you’re off with the guy chatting animatedly about something or the other. The glass in his hands is almost empty now. He realises that you needed it far more than he thought. 

He traces a finger over the small lipstick smudge on the rim and smiles to himself. He doesn’t mind being left in the corner for one night. Actually, he’s perfectly content just watching you shine from the sidelines.

[timextoxhajima]

Sonder: Part V [Final]

Parts: I II III IV V

member: enhypen heeseung! x oc! woo ki yeom [3rd person pov]

genre: coming of age, slice of life, angst, romance

w/c: 4k

taglist: @missychief1404 (i had this chapter written out months ago, but you're the reason why i decided to post it! thank you for reading <3)

warnings: topics on religion, distressed relationships, mental health (I want to leave an a/n here that I grew up with my maternal family being Buddhists so what I've written is based off what I researched online and the way her family practised Buddhism. I'm personally a free-tinker and this narrative is not in any way meant to offend nor support any particular religion.)

synopsis: after being kicked out of her home, Woo Ki Yeom is forced to live life on her own. struggling to find herself in the midst of her chaotic life, she meets lee heeseung, who, like her, can't give any more fucks to life than she does.

"n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own."

Author's Note:

Before you embark on the closing chapter of Sonder, I would first like to offer you a virtual hug! <3 Sonder is a love letter to all lost relationships (be it familial, friends, romantic). In the last few months of 2023, I lost a couple of friends whom I trusted. I'm still in the midst of healing and recovering from it.

Sonder started out as an angry rant when I felt anger from the falling out, but I couldn't bring myself to continue because at some point, I felt like this wasn't the right way to cope. I was still angry and hadn't come to terms with it. But the longer it took, the more I realised I just wanted to heal, and that things truly just happened. No amount of anger was going to undo what was done. They had apologised for the things they did, but I reacted by cutting them out, and I'm not sorry for it.

The chapter has ended, but the book doesn't.

I hope you have found comfort in Sonder, be it through the eyes of Ki Yeom who represents my anger and process of healing, or Heeseung, who is lost in life and has no direction. Perhaps through the eyes of Ji Yeon, who simply did what she thought was right but yet it wasn't, or Ki Yeom's father who had neglected to care for something when it was in need. Last but not least, Ahn Yoo Hyeon, who is my innate desire to be my own person, but cannot, due to the things that naturally bind her to her purpose in life.

I'm not sure when I will write again, or if I ever will, but if I were to leave one last story for my readers who have been with me for the last couple of years since my Capital Letters and Hostis days, I thought it was appropriate to write Sonder.

My ask is always open and I still do check Tumblr every day. I'll try my best to respond if any. I hope that my words, stories, and characters stick with my readers for years to come.

Writing for everybody has been an absolute pleasure.

With Love,

Dana

"So this is the million-dollar book!"

"She'll kill you if she knows you touched it."

"Have you?"

"I didn't touch it but she showed me once."

Gasp.

"Yeah, go through my things while you're packing," Ki Yeom pushes her way into her apartment, a folded box in hand.

"Jun Yeol touched it first."

"I was curious," He closes the book and places it on the table. "It doesn't kill to be a little curious where all your ideas are stored, is it? I can't believe you've shown it to Heeseung but not us!"

"In my defense, I'm rarely curious about her shit," Heeseung raises his hands in surrender and shrugs.

"Then how did you get her to show it to you?" Soo Min squints at him.

"I caught him snooping around my stuff so I caved and let him see it," Ki Yeom finally gets the folded box into shape and pulls out the tape.

Her colleagues' jaws drop as they scream 'unfair', rolling their eyes as they pick up the book to flip through it again.

Ki Yeom can hear their whispering as she packs her newly bought pot-and-pan and kitchenware, and it cracks a little smile on her lips, knowing that she would miss their voices and their bickering in the years she will be away.

In truth, she doesn't know if she would even be coming back.

They must think she's selfish for taking up the offer that their boss had offered her elsewhere and overseas, but even if they did think that, it's not her problem, is it?

She gets the box taped up and she stands up straight, turning around to see that they've gone back to helping her pack the rest of her things. But Heeseung was still, backfacing her, head looking down and his arms barely moving from where she could see him.

So, she walks over and tiptoes, trying her best to look over his shoulders without letting him know she was right behind him.

"Hard to believe this was six months ago."

Ki Yeom relaxes, rolling her eyes as she walks around him.

In his hands was the letter her father wrote her, with the wrong unit number written on the envelope.

"What can I say, time waits for no man," Ripping the letter out of his hands, she crumples it into a ball, playing basketball with it into the trash bag they had by the door.

As the ball of paper lands in the plastic, Ahn Yoo Hyeon appears by the door, purse hanging from her forearm and sunglasses pushed onto the crown of her head.

"I was wondering if they had taken the day off to come help you."

"Honestly, a waste of time!" Jun Yeol dramatically replies. "She has nothing."

"It's good to travel light where you're going anyway," Ahn Yoo Hyeon takes a deep breath and looks around the apartment. "Let me know if you need anything before you fly. I'll see you on Sunday at eight."

Then she turns around on her heels and leaves.

The funniest thing about the last six months is that Ki Yeom wondered how different it would have been if her 'arcs' had been spaced out or in the wrong sequence. How strange was it to have all the events lined up almost one after another?

Sometimes, just for fun, she would imagine if she hadn't met Heeseung, and her father hadn't written the wrong address. She wouldn't have met him because neither of them cared enough to talk to each other.

Imagine if Ji Yeon hadn't showed up. Ki Yeom knew for sure that nothing would've changed. Ji Yeon would still be texting her every now and then, begging her to hang out when she didn't want to.

Imagine if her father hadn't showed up either - Ki Yeom sometimes wonders if he's going to come back again, find out she's moved away, and think about where she's gone.

Then again, that's not her problem either, is it?

"You left a tissue in your machine last week, you know?" Mr Hsien nags at her the moment Ki Yeom appears in his line of sight.

"Sorry!" Placing her laundry bag down, Heeseung helps to push a token into her machine first. "I'll make sure to check this time round."

"You better. Else I'll charge you two times next week!"

Ki Yeom glances at Heeseung. A knowing smile.

"You're not gonna tell him?"

"What for?" She loads her clothes in, fingers digging into the pockets as she does. "He'll be more than happy I'm no longer using his washing machines. Besides, you'll be here to tell him."

"I'm not gonna have a conversation with him telling him where you've gone and why you're gone."

"Well, too bad."

After the washing machine starts its usual humming and vibrating, Ki Yeom sits next to him on the row of seats, listening to the TikTok and Instagram Reels play on his phone while she looks through the digital documents that the art organisation had emailed her.

Ki Yeom hadn't thought that four years of isolation and loneliness could be undone in just six months. Maybe 'undone' is the wrong word.

Though she must admit, she didn't know what she was waiting for. In hindsight, she wonders what it was like to aimlessly tear through each day. It wasn't even that long ago, so she does remember that feeling of emptiness. She wonders if that's the exact same feeling that Heeseung has been dealing with, and probably will have to for longer.

She considers herself lucky. That for her, this four-year chapter is coming to an end.

But it's bittersweet. There's nothing attractive about being in constant fear and worry of having someone unwanted showing up at your doorstep or leaving you messages, but it reminds you that someone out there is still looking for you. This knowledge that someone still gives a shit about you... that's the thing that's addictive and hard to let go of.

Sometimes, she wonders if this is a good thing. Even though she has closed the chapter with her parents and Ji Yeon, it meant that she no longer had a reason to be interlinked with them and vice versa. Her parents are just her parents now. Ji Yeon is now an ex-best friend.

She looks up from her phone and ever so slightly, turns to Heeseung, whose soul is quite literally in his phone screen.

There wasn't enough time.

To explore. This friendship.

Or whatever you called it.

Ki Yeom had never crushed on anybody. She wonders what it must feel like. She always does. She had watched Ji Yeon entertain the boys that ogled over her at school, but she never had one herself.

She recalls the first time she met Heeseung. She was uncouth. Rude, cold and nonchalant. Which boy would like that kind of girl?

She snickers to herself.

"What?" Heeseung asks without looking up from his phone. "The video wasn't even that funny."

"Nothing," Ki Yeom shakes her head. "Though, can I ask you something? Feel free to ignore me or change the subject if you can't answer."

Heeseung hums in response. He scrolls.

"What is it like to have a crush on someone? What's it like to... be in university?"

Such simple questions.

But Heeseung feels stumped. He knew Ki Yeom didn't have the luxury to attend university, but he never thought she would think and ask about it.

He stops and turns down the volume first, then locks his phone and puts it down in his lap.

"The second question's easier to answer. Depending on the crowd you hang out with, university is either a four-year-long party before you go into the working world or... where you go through your existential crises before you go into the working world."

"So either way, it's kind of a shitshow, just whether it's on the fun side or the depressing side?"

"Bingo," Heeseung snaps his fingers and points at her. "The first question, however... I think it's different for most of people. A crush could mean many things. Like an eye-candy, or just a periodic infatuation just 'cause the person's cool or pretty. Or it could be some love-at-first-sight shit that's genuine."

"Do you believe in that? Love at first sight?"

"No," Heeseung shakes his head and puckers his lips in thought. "I mean when you're younger, yeah. I had a crush when I was a kid. Liked her for a couple of years, even though she rejected me right at the start. But my perseverance got me a short run with her."

"'Short run'? How short?" Ki Yeom smiles.

"Like... three months."

"Wow," She laughs and scratches the back of her neck. "Three years for three months?"

"That's exactly what a friend of mine said."

"But you said that was when you were younger. What about recent times? Has it changed for you? I never... had the chance to like someone. When I was in high school with Ji Yeon, I was so caught up in finding myself... with my art and dealing with... being poor. Then not being able to go to college pretty much sealed the deal. My last chance to be a student and a kid and meet people and fall in love and have break-ups was in high school and I didn't know."

Heeseung squints at her. "I don't think that going through all that in high school is advised. I mean, yes, that's when everybody goes through all that, but like... usually it's stupid and messy."

"At least they have the privilege of going through something stupid and messy and not have to worry about... other things. I thought that's what being a teenager is about. Being obnoxiously ignorant about everything else... only thinking about the guy or girl you liked and whether they would ask you out on a date."

He tilts his head at her, eyes looking away as he thinks.

"I think you were destined to... lead a life that the regular person doesn't get to experience. I know how terrible and shit it sounds because it just sounds like I'm trying to comfort you, but I do think you're special. In a resilient and talented type of way. That you were pulled off the average, regular path, and forced onto a better, more rewarding one. Albeit tough."

"Risky game."

"I don't think that if you had spent just a single minute thinking about a guy or a girl... it would've been worth it. It's like asking a God to worry about what color I should dye my hair."

A pause. Ki Yeom nods, a gentle smile on her lips.

"Thank you. For putting it that way."

Another pause. Heeseung was thinking. Then he parts his lips, a breath coming out before a word does.

"For me, I take awhile to like a person. It doesn't come easy nowadays, especially that I'm busy trying to find life fun. But I think right now... I wouldn't know it. I think I would've liked someone without knowing, and then something would happen that made me realise I liked this person."

"So like, 'never knew it until you lost it' kind of concept?"

"Something like that."

Ki Yeom hums in response.

"What about you? I mean, hypothetically, what do you think you're like? If you had a crush?"

"Hm," She rests her elbow on her crossed leg, chin resting on her folded fingers. "I probably have a curse of some sort. All that talk about me being on a more special path would give me tunnel vision, to the point that even if I did like someone and I knew, I don't think I'd stop my life to entertain it."

And just like that.

For some reason, it felt like they had a whole other conversation without even having it. There's a strange, bubbly feeling in Ki Yeom's stomach when she realises how quiet it's gone, on top of the machines' whirring.

She turns to look at him, whose eyes are a little bit sad, like they had heard something he knew was coming, but didn't want to hear. They were flitting between hers, as if waiting for her to say something else.

He blinks, then turns to look at his hands, thumb running over the mild callouses that have formed from playing the piano. Then Heeseung turns back to her, head tilted and eyes unable to focus.

"In an alternate universe... maybe we'll meet in school. And... you'll be the nonchalant, quiet, I-don't-give-a-shit-about-anything girl, and I might find it in myself to be curious about you... In a life that you didn't have to worry about your friends or the way you reacted, about your family or money. In a life where you could be 'obnoxiously ignorant'."

"In a life where I'd be your only problem. A crush that you wouldn't know how to fix or solve. Or maybe leave you with a heartbreak that would change your perspective of life and become a better person."

"I'll admit that I was worried. That I'd be the heartbroken one after you leave, knowing that you bought a one-way ticket and have no plans to return. But I'm no longer worried, because... I think I'd rather be heartbroken while you're still here."

By now he's looking at her, eyes slightly widened and glistening.

Ki Yeom's insides have been stretched, crushed and wringed, like towels on a spring cleaning day.

This gut-wrenching feeling felt all so familiar, and yet, so different.

Heeseung blinks and takes a deep breath, stretching as he leans back.

"I watched you fight your way out of your own life. Your own problems came knocking on your door and you somehow pushed through all those chapters and mishaps and everything. I was not going to be the person who confessed and made you feel like you had to stay."

Then he turns and looks at her, eyes still full of wander despite everything he's seen her go through.

"But now that I know how you feel and what you think, I'm thankful that... You care about yourself. I'm glad that you are the I-don't-give-a-shit-about-anything girl."

"You know sometimes I hate being that girl, don't you?"

"I know you do, but you are, and there's nothing wrong with it."

Ki Yeom frowns, trying to accept it; trying to accept herself; trying to accept that some chapters were never meant to be written. Some arcs were never meant to happen.

Perhaps this acceptance was an arc of itself.

In another life.

On the day Ahn Yoo Hyeon met Woo Ki Yeom, she was having a particularly horrid day. Coming from her, that was unusual. She would never know if it was fate or some kind of sign, but it was the first time in ten years that it rained on her brother's death anniversary.

Just earlier that morning, she had to brave the rain to get to the florist to pick up the flowers she had ordered. But not only was she almost completely drenched by the time she had gotten there, the florist had lost the order form and forgotten to make the bouquet.

Half her day had already been ruined, and she wasn't even at the cemetery.

But her brother's best friend, showed up like an angel, to the florist as she was making the bouquet in a frantic manner. It's normal to see people freeze and get uncomfortable when they meet Oh Jihoon, for he was absolutely covered in tattoos. This included his face, his ears, the inside of his lips and into corners of the body you couldn't see.

"She giving you a hard time?" Yoo Hyeon remembers him teasing her to the florist.

"My apologies! I lost the order form, but the moment she stepped in- I remembered that she had ordered it-"

"Take your time! We're not in a rush."

Yoo Hyeon turns to him, brows furrowed. She lifts her sunglasses and glares at her with those angry orbs that her brother had as well.

"What?" He sits on a nearby stool, holding his phone between his thumb and index finger and gestures out the shop. "Take a look at the weather, would you? You're gonna make her wrap the bouquet up nicely then let it soak and drown in the rain?"

She huffs, wanting to retort but having nothing to say.

"How's the parlour going? Last you told me, you hired a couple of youngsters?"

She glares at him once more, then puts her glasses back on when she decides that he's right.

"The girl's a tomboy gangster and the boy's a gay unicorn. Funnily enough, they seem close."

Jihoon laughs boisterously. Yoo Hyeon can hear her brother's laughter in his.

"You sayin' that he's gay because you know for a fact?"

"He's got bright pink hair dyed down to his roots, and he talks like a girl."

"Hey, now," Jihoon raises both palms and chuckles.

"I think I know when I see a gay man. Plus, I say that with zero offence. What's wrong with calling someone gay if it's just an observation?"

"Ah- There's the education talking," He pauses, finger playing with the piercings on his ears. "You sound like your brother."

"Shocker."

"You know, back in the day-"

By the time Yoo Hyeon had finished rolling her eyes at Jihoon's throwback, the florist had finished wrapping up the bouquet and apologised for the hundredth time. Initially rejecting the payment, Yoo Hyeon knew better than to refuse the service, handing her a hundred dollar bill and telling her to keep the change.

Jihoon had given her a soft 'ooh' in a bid to praise her coolness, and honestly? Yoo Hyeon could barely hide the smile.

The cemetery was about a thirty minutes drive out of the city.

"I always wondered what he'd be doing. Like what would he be working as? Would he be married and have kids?"

"No clue. But, honestly? Maybe zookeeper," He places both hands on the steering wheel as he turns down the winding path, rain drenching the windshield despite the wipers clearing it every second. "Suits him. Not having to wear office attires or deal with people. Married with kids? Not sure. Depends on whether he knocked someone up by accident."

Yoo Hyeon smiles to herself, eyes watching as the trees blur past and the city's skyline blending into the mountains behind.

"Anyway, your interview. You just had one recently, didn't you? For a touring art organisation?" She turns to him.

"Yeah. I'm still waiting on the results but I think I'm gonna get it."

"And when you do, you would have to move?"

"Seasonally, yeah. I guess I'd be spending months overseas, at a time."

"So, you wouldn't be here? On some years?"

Jihoon goes quiet. "Maybe. But you know I'll try my best to come back."

She hums in response. "It'd be different without you here."

"I know, but you know... One of the last things he told me was to never look back. He always told me that the damage had been done, so what for writhe in your own shit and cry about it? Don't think he'd be all that pleased if he knew we were fussing about him. In fact, sometimes when we visit him... he might not even be there."

Now, Yoo Hyeon can't stifle the laugh that comes out.

Later that day, Jihoon had wanted to drop her off at home, knowing that she was drenched that morning and knowing that it wasn't an easy day for her. But something in her told her to go back to the parlour. For whatever reason it was, she would never know.

But grief works in strange ways.

Yoo Hyeon knew that, to some, it was a stretch to think that her brother was the one who led her to Ki Yeom, who was starving and had obviously cried her eyes out when she found her down the street from the parlor, hiding herself from the rain.

But she will always think it was, because it was comforting to think that perhaps, her brother was watching over her, and even the people who might need her help.

She doesn't know why she hired Ki Yeom so quickly. She doesn't know why she felt the need to help her find accommodation. She doesn't know why she felt like she saw something in Ki Yeom, that would lead her to this very moment.

At the airport. Seeing her off. Into Jihoon's care where she will most likely blossom into a whole other person artistically.

"Jihoon's abit weird when you first meet him, but don't mind it. He's covered in tattoos and that's the only thing that's scary about him. Otherwise, he's a loser," She pulls off her glasses and folds the arms inwards.

Ki Yeom smiles and nods, hugging her jacket in her arms.

"Thank you, Ms Ahn. For taking care of me, ever since we met. I really wouldn't be here without you. I mean it. And it's true. Nothing can refute it."

The older takes a deep breath and raises a brow, "You have my brother to thank for that. He's dead, but I'd like to think he was there the day I found you on that street. Jihoon will tell you more when you get there."

Something in Ki Yeom turns sad and sour as she processed Yoo Hyeon's words. She purses her lips, offering a small smile.

"If you ever come back, I expect you to return."

"Of course."

Yoo Hyeon nods with intention, and slides her sunglasses back on.

Ki Yeom turns around, in her peripheral vision, noticing Soo Min and Jun Yeol getting into another bicker as Heeseung approaches her.

He sucks in a deep breath and shoves his hands into his pockets, shoulders shrugged up to his ears.

"New arc, new season."

She smiles, turning to look at the gate into the departure hall.

"It was nice... being a character in one of your seasons."

A knowing exchange of looks. Ki Yeom doesn't know what to say. Heeseung doesn't either. What else is there left to say?

"Will you hate me if I end up treating you like Ji Yeon?"

Heeseung parts his lips and frowns, then a smile creeps up on his lips. "Maybe. But you know what? I don't think I'd blame you. I'm just... a character in a season."

Ki Yeom takes a deep breath, and reaches out to wrap her arms around him, pressing her head into his collar and shutting her eyes.

"You'll be the character that everybody shipped me with, but never got together, and would write fanfics or canons about us if we happened."

She can hear him chuckle in his chest as he returns the hug. He intentionally lowers his head and nearer to her ear, "Accurate canon."

For the first time in Ki Yeom's life, she felt truly free.

Free from all the things that kept her here, free from all her worries and concerns. She was now going to live the life of one of those girls online, talking about how they moved abroad to work and explore a new culture and lead a new life. Ironically, she worried if she was going become one of those girls.

But even if she did, it's not her problem.

Is it?

[sideprince]

I wrote a reply to this post but OP has deleted it and even though I should probably leave well enough alone, it got to me that I could have sworn I saw this post months ago and then realized it was actually from yesterday. This is a long reply so I'm putting it under a cut, but after I went to OP's blog and saw a post from them complaining how mean everyone was to them on this post, I replied to say I'm sorry if they got any anon hate I don't know about but otherwise none of the comments on this post were mean or hateful, they just disagreed with OP. I pointed out that this is partly because they cited non-canon events as canon, and OP immediately blocked me (this may be why I can't reblog the post even from another user, though that's not how tumblr usually works so who knows). I can't help but feel that OP's post was made in bad faith, as a result, and I've seen enough people on this hellsite who are more interested in protecting their egos than admit when they could have been approached something more thoughtfully, so I'm diving in. If you're going to say a character "is very interesting to study" while doing the exact opposite, then you'd better have the critical analysis skills and textual evidence to back it up.

I think OP has some misconceptions that are frustratingly common, and seem to stem from people not having read the books, or not read them for a long time, and conflating the movies with canon. While I mostly agree with the replies above, I want to take this opportunity to cite the text to refute some of OP's points. I often forget details from the text, but I choose to either look them up before asserting unconfirmed points as fact (Potter Search is a great tool, or you can just do a ctrl+F search if you have the books digitally), or else I usually state clearly that I'm not sure if I remember something correctly and don't have the spoons to look it up.

I saw OP say in the comments in response to someone arguing their points:

"that's your interpretation, I have mine, I think both can coexist within the material we are given."

It doesn't sit right with me that so many people think that referring to their subjective memory of what the text meant to them is the same as actually citing it and offering an explanation. OP's interpretation can't exist within the material given, because some of it doesn't exist in the material at all, and you can't interpret what isn't there. OP is essentially claiming to have done critical analysis, and although no one is required to always critique a text analytically on a tumblr post, I find it upsetting when people claim to do so while failing to cite a single source to support their argument. To me it sounds like someone trying to pass off a creative writing essay as an academic research paper, and in an age of rampant propaganda and knee-jerk reblogs that eschew critical thinking, I feel an almost compulsive need to go through OP's reply and argue it with the textual evidence they conveniently avoided, if for no other reason than to show why it's important to discern between loosely formed opinions and informed ones.

I also want to explain why I don't accept the films as canon, because while I do think that canon can exist across several mediums (such as with Good Omens, in which at least one of the writers of the text is directly involved in writing the TV series), I don't think that applies to Harry Potter because the original author was only marginally involved in the films, in only a consultant role, and had little input on the writing. The HP films are an interpretation as written from the perspective of Steve Kloves, except for OoTP, which was written by Michael Goldenberg. I've gone into it on other posts, but suffice to say these interpretations did not prioritize story and character development and were often influenced by pressure from the studio to prioritize marketing opportunities over storytelling. Important elements like foreshadowing and themes were not carried over from the text to the screen. These changes affected the storytelling significantly and left out crucial elements. This, combined with the films having been written with little to no involvement from the original author, is why I feel the films can't be taken as canon. This doesn't mean they can't be enjoyed by any means, just that they scenes that appear in the films but not in the text, or are presented differently on screen than in the text, are not a reasonable basis for character analysis.

And now, on to OP's ask:

"I think he is a very good representation of a man who felt insecure in his manhood; his male ego was permanently wounded by James' bullying and he decided to make it everyone else's problem by being the most insufferable teacher at Hogwarts."

The first thing we have to establish is that the books are told from Harry's perspective, so we have to take narrative bias into account. Calling Snape "the most insufferable teacher at Hogwarts" is a subjective statement and I can only assume it's based in Harry's biased perspective as narrator, given that he and Snape have a bad relationship from the outset. I have a brief analysis here about how Snape dislikes Harry because in their first class together he interprets Harry's ignorance of the course material as a lack of curiosity and appreciation for his gifts as a wizard, while also recognizing something of his own experiences with childhood poverty and abuse in Harry. Harry, being ignorant of these factors, just feels singled out for hate by a strict teacher, and their relationship deteriorates throughout the rest of the series, until the end of the final book.

To pull back from the narrative bias, let's look at some of the other teachers are Hogwarts:

McGonagall:

“Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?”  Hermione hung her head. Harry was speechless. Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets. “Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this,” said Professor McGonagall. “I’m very disappointed in you. If you’re not hurt at all, you’d better get off to Gryffindor Tower. Students are finishing the feast in their Houses.”

Philosopher's Stone, Ch. 10.

“I’m disgusted,” said Professor McGonagall. “Four students out of bed in one night! I’ve never heard of such a thing before! You, Miss Granger, I thought you had more sense. As for you, Mr. Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this. All three of you will receive detentions — yes, you too, Mr. Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around school at night, especially these days, it’s very dangerous — and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor.” “Fifty?” Harry gasped — they would lose the lead, the lead he’d won in the last Quidditch match.  “Fifty points each,” said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily through her long, pointed nose.

Philosopher's Stone, Ch. 15

In just the first book we see McGonagall punish Hermione for successfully defending herself against a troll and take house points, then sends her back to her common room without getting medical attention, as if a ten year old can be responsible for assessing how badly they're hurt. A few chapters later McGonagall takes several hundred points from students in her own house (more than we see any other teacher do at one time throughout the series), and assigns the students detention on top of it. As we later see in the same chapter, the detentions aren't even served with her directly, but instead the children - again, ten years old - are sent into the Forbidden Forest at night with only Hagrid to protect them, to hunt down whatever creature is vicious and cunning enough to kill unicorns.

Although it's said that Snape favors the students in his own house, he doesn't seem to be the only one:

“Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor,” said Malfoy quickly.  “Yes, yes, that’s right,” said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. “Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?”  “A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir,” said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy’s face. “And it’s really thanks to Malfoy here that I’ve got it,” he added. 

Philosopher's Stone, Ch. 10

Not only did McGonagall make an exception to school practices and allow Harry on his house Quidditch team despite being a first year, she used either school funds or her own (unclear) to purchase a first-rate broom for him. We know the school has brooms, as first years are not allowed their own and they are provided for flying lessons, and because “Harry had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms” (PS ch. 9). And yet, McGonagall ensures Harry has his own broom, and an expensive one, new enough to be the show model in a shop window in Diagon Alley a few months earlier:

“Several boys of about Harry’s age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. ‘Look,’ Harry heard one of them say, ‘the new Nimbus Two Thousand - fastest ever -”

-Philosopher's Stone, Ch. 5

If we're discussing which teachers are Hogwarts are the most "insufferable" then we also have to talk about Hagrid, who might mean well and be affectionate, but is also irresponsible and dangerous.

In Philosopher's Stone, Hagrid:

Punishes Dudley, a child, for his parents' offenses, the final straw being his father insulting Dumbledore (Ch. 4). While Hagrid acknowledges that he shouldn't have lost his temper, he also admits that his intention had been to turn Dudley fully into a pig.

Hatches a dragon in his cabin (Ch. 14), tries to raise it illegally and against the animal's need of care, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione (again, ten year olds) have to fix the situation and get Ron's brother to find some friends to take the dragon away safely and prevent Hagrid losing his job (Ch. 14). In the process Hagrid endangers himself as well as the children, and it's because of this that McGonagall gives them detention and deducts hundreds of house points. Hagrid not only allows the children to endanger themselves for his sake, but to be punished and subsequently ostracized by their peers also for his sake.

The reason he even has a dragon is, as we find out in Ch. 16, because he was foolish enough to accept it from a faceless stranger in exchange for unwittingly divulging the secret to getting past the three headed dog guarding the Philosopher's Stone (and the stranger later turns out to be Quirrel/Voldemort).

In Prisoner of Azkaban, Hagrid:

Starts his first lesson with a volatile creature (Ch. 6) and, although Malfoy acted irresponsibly, Hagrid was nevertheless the teacher and responsible for providing course material consistent with the experience level and maturity of his students' age.

Gets drunk and has to be taken care of by Harry, Ron, and Hermione (again, children) (Ch. 6)

Skipping ahead to Order of the Phoenix ch. 30, we find out Hagrid

Compromised his return from the mission Dumbledore sent him on by bringing a giant back to England.

Brought said giant into the school grounds and left him in the Forbidden Forest.

Asks Harry and Hermione (still children) to look after him if Hagrid is sacked.

Although Hagrid means well, his actions are consistently thoughtless and irresponsible, requiring those around him - often Harry, Ron, and Hermione - to fix the damage he causes. Although I think it remains subjective which teacher at Hogwarts is the "most insufferable" I think Hagrid is a strong enough candidate to qualify OP's interpretation of Snape holding that title as extremely contestable. Of course, since the books are presented through the lens of Harry's narrative bias, and he's fond of Hagrid, respects McGonagall, and dislikes Snape, an uncritical reading could lead one to OP's conclusions. However, a more objective analysis of the text shows that many teachers at Hogwarts are strict, punitive, biased, and wreak havoc on students in ways that make the Snape's actions look fairly tame, or at least the norm. And this is excluding an analysis of various DADA professors like Lockhart and Crouch/Moody, who were insufferable in their own rights (Lockhart was smarmy and dishonest to the point it risked students' lives; Crouch/Moodly transfigured a child into a ferret and humiliated him with torture as a disciplinary measure and deliberately triggered Neville's trauma in class).

OP continues their reply to say:

Add to this that he is a halfblood and only his mother was around, iirc?

They don't recall correctly. Snape, whose father was a muggle and whose mother was a witch, was indeed a half-blood (as is evidenced by him being revealed to be the Half-Blood Prince - I assume I don't need to cite a source as this is a pretty well-known fact and the literal title of an entire HP book, but should you need a reference it's in Ch. 28 of HBP). Both his parents were around in his childhood:

Snape staggered - his wand flew upwards, away from Harry - and suddenly Harry’s mind was teeming with memories that were not his: a hook-nosed man was shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner …

-Order of the Phoenix, Ch. 26

‘How are things at your house?’ Lily asked. A little crease appeared between his eyes. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘They’re not arguing any more?’ ‘Oh, yes, they’re arguing,’ said Snape. He picked up a fistful of leaves and began tearing them apart, apparently unaware of what he was doing. ‘But it won’t be that long and I’ll be gone.’ ‘Doesn’t your dad like magic?’ ‘He doesn’t like anything, much,’ said Snape.

-Deathly Hallows, Ch. 33

We know that Snape's father was around because he's mentioned both in Snape's memories in OoTP that Harry accidentally invades during an Occlumency lesson, and when we see in Snape's memories that he gives Harry as he dies. Lily asks about his home life by referring to both his parents, implying that his dad is a consistent presence at home. We also know from JK Rowling that Snape's father "didn't hold back when it came to the whip" but this is supplementary and not mentioned in canon, so I don't expect anyone to refer to it when analyzing the text, I'm just adding it as bonus material.

Continuing on with OP's reply:

Snape, Voldemort and Harry all act like foils of each other in that sense, but whereas Voldemort fixated on his blood status as the main reason for his insecurities, Snape fixated on Lily.

So much to unpack here. Firstly, all of this should be backed up by examples from the text, as they are subjective readings that have significant bearing on character analysis.

Snape, Harry, and Voldemort don't act like foils of each other. For one thing, a character doesn't act like a foil, a character either is or isn't one. That being said, I don't know OP's background and there could be a language barrier because English isn't everyone's first language, I'm just being pedantic. Even with that in mind, the statement remains incorrect. A foil is a literary device - a character who contrasts with another character, often with the protagonist. It is not a choice a character makes or an action they take.

In Philosopher's Stone Snape is set up as a foil to Harry in order to misdirect the reader from suspecting the real villain, Quirrel/Voldemort. Snape is presented as secretive, sneaky, and nefarious, contrasting Harry's role as a protagonist who is outspoken, honest, and brave. As the series progresses, Snape, along with Voldemort, are eventually shown to have more parallels than contrasts with Harry. Snape and Voldemort were born into muggle poverty, and although Harry was raised in a middle class home by the Dursleys, they thrust poverty and neglect onto him in a way that parallels his childhood of neglect and want with that of Snape and Voldemort. Snape's father was abusive, as was Harry's guardian, Vernon Dursley. Harry, Voldemort, and Snape all had traumatic experiences growing up in muggle environments. If anything, Snape and Voldemort might be foils to Harry in that they both harbored resentment for their muggle fathers in ways that signified the separation between the wizarding and muggle world, while Harry's experiences with the Dursleys didn't color his image of muggles in a comparable way.

The contrast between Harry, Snape, and Voldemort is in the way each of them deals with their trauma. As Dumbledore says:

"It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

-Chamber of Secrets, Ch. 18

This becomes one of the overarching themes of the HP series, Harry, Snape, and Voldemort are all examples of how their choices took them to such different places in life from their comparable childhoods.

At school Voldemort was a handsome boy with talent, intelligence, and the recommendations of his teachers, but he chose to pursue power instead of success:

“He reached the seventh year of his schooling with, as you might have expected, top grades in every examination he had taken. All around him, his classmates were deciding which jobs they were to pursue once they had left Hogwarts. Nearly everybody expected spectacular things from Tom Riddle, prefect, Head Boy, winner of the Special Award for Services to the School. I know that several teachers, Professor Slughorn amongst them, suggested that he join the Ministry of Magic, offered to set up appointments, put him in touch with useful contacts. He refused all offers. The next thing the staff knew, Voldemort was working at Borgin and Burkes.”

Half-Blood Prince, Ch. 20

Snape chose to become a Death Eater for reasons we can only assume. We know he was in Slytherin during an era when Voldemort was in power and many of his allies had children in Slytherin house. At least two of Snape's dorm-mates, Mulciber and Avery, are canonically acknowledged to have become Death Eaters (both are present at the Ministry when Harry and his friends fight the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries in OoTP Ch. 35). It's unclear whether Snape chose to become a Death Eater out of admiration for them or out of peer pressure, or perhaps a lack of other options, while at school:

'… thought we were supposed to be friends?’ Snape was saying. ‘Best friends?’ ‘We are, Sev, but I don’t like some of the people you’re hanging around with! I’m sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev? He’s creepy! D’you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald the other day?’ Lily had reached a pillar and leaned against it, looking up into the thin, sallow face. ‘That was nothing,’ said Snape. ‘It was a laugh, that’s all -‘ ‘It was Dark Magic, and if you think that’s funny -‘ ‘What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?’ demanded Snape. His colour rose again as he said it, unable, it seemed, to hold in his resentment.

-Deathly Hallows, Ch. 33

It's unclear what Snape thinks of Avery and Mulciber, as his reply to Lily is downplaying but doesn't defend their actions. We see Snape's indecisiveness later in the argument he has with Lily after he calls her a Mudblood:

'It’s too late. I’ve made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends - you see, you don’t even deny it! You don’t even deny that’s what you’re all aiming to be! You can’t wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?’ He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. ‘I can’t pretend any more. You’ve chosen your way, I’ve chosen mine.’ ‘No - listen, I didn’t mean -‘ ‘- to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?'

-Deathly Hallows, Ch. 33

Although Snape does ultimately choose to become a Death Eater, we see in his reply to Lily about both Avery and Mulciber and later her assumption that they all want to become Death Eaters that Snape doesn't argue for or against her accusations, but instead is evasive and unsure of himself. He opens his mouth to speak when she accuses him of wanting to become a Death Eater, but then closes it again without saying anything - he can neither argue against her point, nor state clearly, let alone with any kind of conviction, that this is indeed his ambition. It can be argued that it's the passivity of his choice that lands him with a Dark Mark on his arm, and it's the active choice he makes to risk his life in order to defect from Voldemort's ranks and turn spy that defines his character and without which Harry could not have defeated Voldemort.

Harry, as the protagonist, is also significantly defined by the theme of choice:

'But, sir,’ said Harry, making valiant efforts not to sound argumentative, ‘it all comes to the same thing, doesn’t it? I’ve got to try and kill him, or -‘ ‘Got to?’ said Dumbledore. ‘Of course you’ve got to! But not because of the prophecy! Because you, yourself, will never rest until you’ve tried! We both know it! Imagine, please, just for a moment, that you had never heard that prophecy! How would you feel about Voldemort now? Think!’ Harry watched Dumbledore striding up and down in front of him, and thought. He thought of his mother, his father and Sirius. He thought of Cedric Diggory. He thought of all the terrible deeds he knew Lord Voldemort had done. A flame seemed to leap inside his chest, searing his throat. ‘I’d want him finished,’ said Harry quietly. ‘And I’d want to do it.’ ‘Of course you would!’ cried Dumbledore. ‘You see, the prophecy does not mean you have to do anything! But the prophecy caused Lord Voldemort to mark you as his equal … in other words, you are free to choose your way, quite free to turn your back on the prophecy! But Voldemort continues to set store by the prophecy. He will continue to hunt you … which makes it certain, really, that -' ‘That one of us is going to end up killing the other,’ said Harry. ‘Yes.'

-Half-Blood Prince, Ch. 33

There's a clear point made by the author through Dumbledore as her proxy here, that choice is what matters, not fate. It's Harry's choices that make him the person he is and lead him to eventually defeat Voldemort. While Snape, Voldemort, and Harry all can be contrasted through the lens of their choices, this does not make them foils, as it is the the theme of choice and how it is exemplified by each character that makes them unique, but their experiences and many of their character traits (boldness, bravery, a personal sense of conviction) that make them parallels of one another. Each of them occupies their own place on the spectrum between the light and dark that the series establishes, Voldemort at the dark end, Harry at the light, and Snape in the grey area between them.

OP goes on to say:

His character is all about male entitlement, he was obsessed with her at Hogwarts and then showed to have no boundaries as he went into her house to cradle her dead body in front of her traumatized kid.

There's a lot to unpack here, and it's particularly challenging because you can't provide textual evidence for something that didn't happen in the text. After the above scene from Ch. 33 of DH in which Lily ends her friendship with Snape, we never see them interact again:

'No - listen, I didn’t mean -‘ ‘- to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?’ He struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look she turned and climbed back through the portrait hole … The corridor dissolved, and the scene took a little longer to reform: Harry seemed to fly through shifting shapes and colours until his surroundings solidified again and he stood on a hilltop, forlorn and cold in the darkness, the wind whistling through the branches of a few leafless trees. The adult Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for something or for someone …'

-Deathly Hallows, Ch. 33

The scene in the corridor in front of Gryffindor Tower between a fifth year Snape and Lily leads directly into the scene where Snape begs Dumbledore to protect the Potters (which I wrote an analysis of a few months ago but is too long a subject to derail this post for). We see no more interactions between Snape and Lily, and therefore there is no canonical support for the idea that Snape behaved obsessively or failed to respect her boundaries.

There's also no mention of Snape going to Godric's Hollow at all after her death. Snape holding Lily's dead body is only shown in the film version of Deathly Hallows, and as mentioned, the films are not canon. That moment doesn't exist in the text and can't be considered in an analysis of Snape's character. The scene on the hilltop leads directly into the scene of Snape crying in Dumbledore's office:

The hilltop faded, and Harry stood in Dumbledore’s office, and something was making a terrible sound, like a wounded animal. Snape was slumped forwards in a chair and Dumbledore was standing over him, looking grim. After a moment or two, Snape raised his face, and he looked like a man who had lived a hundred years of misery since leaving the wild hilltop. ‘I thought … you were going … to keep her … safe …’ ‘She and James put their faith in the wrong person,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Rather like you, Severus. Weren’t you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?’ Snape’s breathing was shallow.

-Deathly Hallows, Ch. 33

This is the only depiction of Snape immediately following the Potters' deaths. The scene of him cradling Lily's dead body was Steve Kloves' invention and has no basis in canon. If anything, Snape's actions in canon can be interpreted to show that he respected the boundaries Lily set, and that even when her life was at risk he chose to go to Dumbledore - who he thought might kill him on sight - rather than talk to her directly after she ended their friendship. In addition, in all the information the text gives about the night Voldemort fell in Godric's Hollow and Hagrid collected Harry to take him to Privet Drive, there's no mention of Snape whatsoever.

There isn't much in the text to support the interpretation that Snape exemplified male entitlement either. So far we've seen him being as strict, if not milder, than other teachers at the school, his favoritism is also comparable to that of other teachers - implying it's more of a norm than an example of entitlement - and there are no canonical examples to support the argument that he was obsessed with Lily or violated her boundaries. Snape struggles to argue with Lily when she accuses and berates him, and the usual markers of patriarchal entitlement - silencing women, gaslighting, dismissing women's opinions, talking over them - are all nowhere to be found in any of their interactions. The only time we see him lash out at Lily is when he calls her Mudblood (OoTP Ch. 28) which, while inexcusable, he does under traumatic duress, and is not indicative of his usual interactions with her, as exemplified by the fact that she ends their friendship over it. As cited before:

'No - listen, I didn’t mean -‘ ‘- to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?’

There's a clear implication that Snape has never called her this before. An argument can also be made that it speaks volumes of Lily's own biases, or perhaps her own affection for Snape (who, not long before this, was still her best friend), that she excused this behavior from him when it was directed at others, and only took issue with it when it was directed at herself. That, combined with Lily's own acknowledgment that they were "best friends" shows that Snape's relationship with her was a balanced, consensual one even when it became strained, up until their friendship ended.

Continuing with OP's points:

He only saw Lily as a trophy to be possessed, which you can see from the way he hated Harry, because Harry reminded him Lily wasn't his and that Lily had sex with another man.

There's no support for this in the text anywhere and is pure conjecture. I can appreciate it being OP's headcanon, but it's certainly not a result of studying the text and relying on it to form opinions, but rather seems to be OP projecting pre-conceived notions onto Snape as a character and trying to find justification for it. I've written a whole post extrapolating Snape's first class with Harry, but the tl;dr is that Snape, who grew up in muggle poverty and knew Aunt Petunia enough to guess that Harry didn't fare well in her care when he showed up at school bearing signs of neglect, likely expected Harry to have the same hunger for learning that he himself did at Harry's age. Instead, Harry couldn't answer a single one of his questions and showed no curiosity or enthusiasm towards being a wizard as far as Snape could tell.

Nevertheless, even though Snape did seem to dislike Harry, hate is an awful strong word given that it is revealed at the end of Deathly Hallows that Snape has risked his own life to protect him. This isn't particularly surprising when you consider that this goal was established as early as Philosopher's Stone, when Snape protected him, which Harry initially interpreted as Snape trying to kill him:

Harry couldn’t take it in. This couldn’t be true, it couldn’t. ‘But Snape tried to kill me!’ ‘No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I’d have got you off that broom. I’d have managed it before then if Snape hadn’t been muttering a counter-curse, trying to save you.’ ‘Snape was trying to save me?’ ‘Of course,’ said Quirrell coolly. -Philosopher's Stone, Ch. 17

Again, the story is told through the lens of Harry's bias, but that doesn't mean his opinions of Snape reflect Snape's character. As another example, there's an implication in OoTP that Snape, having seen some of the Dursleys' abuse of Harry through his memories during Occlumency lessons, passed this information on in an effort to protect Harry, and that this is the reason why several Order members (Arthur Weasley and Moody in particular) show up at King's Cross at the end of the schoolyear and threaten the Dursleys to stop mistreating him. There seems to be no other explanation in the text for why these adults are suddenly aware of the abuse Harry experiences, except that Snape, who was abused as a child himself, and who is an Order member himself, is the only adult in the series who we see witness Harry's mistreatement firsthand. At no point in the narrative do we see Harry complain about the Dursleys to the adults he trusts or ask them for help, merely to spend his holidays away from them without explanation.

While Snape did indeed dislike Harry and often compared him to his father, his dislike for James had much more significant roots in bullying and trauma than in his concern for Lily's relationship with him. It's established in canon that James Potter and Sirius Black dislike Snape from the outset (as in the scene on the Hogwarts Express in DH Ch. 33). In their fifth year, Sirius - annoyed that Snape is so curious about where Lupin goes each month - tricks Snape into following the tunnel under the Whomping Willow to the Shrieking Shack, as Lupin tells Harry:

'Professor Snape was at school with us. ... Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me -‘ Black made a derisive noise. ‘It served him right,’ he sneered. ‘Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to … hoping he could get us expelled …' 'Severus was very interested in where I went every month,’ Lupin told Harry, Ron and Hermione. ‘We were in the same year, you know, and we - er - didn’t like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James’s talent on the Quidditch pitch … anyway, Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me towards the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be - er - amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree-trunk with a long stick, and he’d be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it - if he’d got as far as this house, he’d have met a fully grown werewolf - but your father, who’d heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life … Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden to tell anybody by Dumbledore, but from that time on he knew what I was …'

-Prisoner of Azkaban, Ch. 18

From this we can deduce that Sirius intended for Snape to die, or at least get severely injured, and that even as a grown adult Sirius doesn't regret trying to mete out this punishment to him as retaliation for curiosity. We can also deduce that Lupin was unaware of Sirius' intention and did not consent to be used as a weapon. For his part, Snape never did reveal that Lupin was a werewolf while at school, or even during that school year, until after Lupin ran amok on Hogwarts grounds, endangering others' lives, including Harry's.

There are other meta posts that go into Lupin's insecurities and vulnerabilities, but in short, he was grateful just to be allowed into the school as a student, let alone to have friends, and was in no position to challenge James and Sirius. Even as a prefect he didn't curb their behavior, as we see when he allows James to bully Snape later that year after their O.W.L.s:

'Leave him alone,’ Lily repeated. She was looking at James with every sign of great dislike. ‘What’s he done to you?’ ‘Well,’ said James, appearing to deliberate the point, ‘it’s more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean …’ Many of the surrounding students laughed, Sirius and Wormtail included, but Lupin, still apparently intent on his book, didn’t, and nor did Lily. ‘You think you’re funny,’ she said coldly. ‘But you’re just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone.’ ‘I will if you go out with me, Evans,’ said James quickly. ‘Go on … go out with me and I’ll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again.'

-Order of the Phoenix, Ch. 28

James acknowledges that he has no real reason to bully Snape and uses violence as a bargaining chip to coerce Lily into going out with him (James' behavior reflects much more entitlement than Snape's, in my opinion). He also chokes Snape with a bar of soap and then assaults him by dangling him upside down and removing his trousers (threatening to remove his underwear but we don't see it happen).

Lily herself refers to James as arrogant, and it's this trait, along with the trauma from James' bullying of him, that Snape perceives in Harry. He doesn't resent Harry for looking like his father because it reminds him that Lily had sex with another man, he resents him for it because of all the trauma James inflicted on him. The conflict-laden relationship between Snape and the Marauders is a significant driver of the story through several of the books and OP seems subjective to the point of being problematic in ignoring it completely and instead focusing Snape's dislike of Harry onto an invented idea of sexual jealousy that doesn't exist in the text.

It's never stated whether Snape had romantic feelings for Lily, or vice versa, only that they were friends. The closest we see to a hint of this is when “The intensity of his [Snape's] gaze made her [Lily] blush," or when “The moment she [Lily] had insulted James Potter, his [Snape's] whole body had relaxed, and as they walked away there was a new spring in Snape’s step …”

Lily's blush could be interpreted as implying she was attracted to him, or conversely that she didn't and felt awkward thinking he might be attracted to her. Similarly, Snape's relief at her insulting James can be interpreted as indicative of his attraction to her, or of him simply being worried about a friend hanging out with people he perceived as dangerous and was relieved to learn she wasn't putting herself in the way of danger by becoming friends with them. Although JK Rowling has said that her intention was for Snape's affections towards Lily to be romantic, and that she may have returned his affection had he not chosen the path he did, this is - like the note about Snape's father whipping him - extratextual and more of an interesting fact than a bit of canon to be extrapolated from the text.

Finally, OP says:

His interest in the Death Eaters was only secondary to his obsession with Lily and I think Lily rejecting him pushed him toward joining the Death Eaters, because, once again, his male ego was bruised and he needed to replace it with something else.

We've already seen that Snape's interest in joining the Death Eaters was a big part of Lily's reason for ending their friendship. Therefore, logically, Lily's decision didn't push him towards becoming a Death Eater, but rather isolated him from having any support system outside of the DEs. She didn't reject him, because rejection is the refusal or dismissal of another person's advances or proposal. They were friends, meaning they had a mutually consensual platonic relationship. Lily therefore didn't reject Snape, she ended their friendship and, as already stated, nothing in canon implies he didn't respect her boundaries.

As we have also seen in canon, Snape was bullied at school and had, at best, a neglectful and dysfunctional home environment in his childhood. In addition, he shared a dorm with students actively interested in becoming Death Eaters, and his one social lifeline away from them was cut off when he called Lily a Mudblood. What OP interprets as Snape's male ego being bruised is actually a much more complex set of social and emotional factors being described throughout the series to eventually reveal the profile of a character - young Snape - who was a vulnerable youth primed for radicalization by a violent faction of zealots. Although the enforcement and upholding of patriarchal norms is often a huge element of these kinds of social movements, that didn't seem to be the driving force for Snape based on everything we learn about his character. Instead, what we see is a boy who comes from abuse, lives in abuse at school, who loses all the support systems that might give him an alternative to the fascist cult he's being radicalized into which - if it's like most hate groups - would have been more than welcome to both take him in and help him cut his ties to anyone else in his life he might escape from them to.

It also goes against the argument that Snape was sexually obsessed with Lily that he continued to risk his life in order to protect her son an defeat her murderer for almost two decades after her death. He knew it would neither bring her back from the dead nor bring about forgiveness, and it goes without saying that sex was no longer an option. Framing Snape's motivation as obsession dismisses the realities of the complex and meaningful relationship we form as people, and the lasting, transformative influence we can have on each other, which is what Snape and Lily's story illustrates.

Finally, OP concludes with:

He remained mysterious up till the end and his back-and-forth with treason was very compelling to read about. So I hate him (as a "person") but he is such a good character narrative-wise and he is very interesting to study

OP openly admits to hating Snape, ie. having a bias against him, while stating he is "interesting to study" - except no part of their answer has shown that they've actually done so. Their arguments are unsupported in several ways, one being that they don't offer any evidence, and the other being that none can be found in the source text. What's ironic is that OP seems to resent Snape's subjective bias against Harry (and misinterpret his reasons for it in baseless ways) while also showing the exact same kind of bias against Snape themselves. You don't have to like a character by any means, but claiming that the kind of unfounded, superficial, and unsupported opinions that OP stated in their response have a basis in any kind of study of his character is ludicrous and an insult to the intelligence of anyone reading it.

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Don’t Blame My English Blood For This American Heartache

Info, author’s note, etc

AO3 info prologue one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve

All my work is 18.

Summary: Seraphine Malfoy had been raised in California by her Squib parents with no knowledge of her family's magical heritage, though she has received lessons from a local family. When she discovers she’s the sole heir to the Malfoy family, she leaves for England to step into that role. She can handle the balls and the responsibilities and her new family members. The only thing that throws her completely off is the appearance of Death Eater turned war hero Regulus Black, who, despite being ridiculously full of himself, is far too good looking, charming—and far too persistent—for her own good.

Author’s Note:

So you may or may not be aware of this already, but I’ve been working on this for awhile. It’s not done yet, I’m just posting it in honor of Sera’s birthday, which is today. I’m currently working on chapter nine, and I suspect I’ll need at least another three. I’ll be posting every other day, I figure. Also part of the fun of writing this for me was seeing how much stuff I could put in there that would piss off JKR. So the OC is Jewish (her parents converted prior to her birth), and if anybody @s me about how I wrote it incorrectly (I don’t think I did, though) please know that I’m writing her growing up Jewish based how I grew up. You don’t need any understanding of Judaism in order to read the fic, I don’t think. Her best friend is a trans woman, too, which is fun. The trans woman in question is based on my irl best friend, who worked closely with me on “her” character.

Other things to note:

I play it fast and loose with the lore; I change what I don’t like and treat canon as fic inspo. I have indeed read the books, I’ve done tons of research, and I have a family tree made for the fic, same as I always do. I also have every outfit I describe of Sera’s as well as 3D tours of most of the houses described.

Sera was raised entirely separate from Wizarding society, British or US. She has no knowledge of it. This means she’ll use different words for things and spells (relocate instead of apparate, blue animal instead of patronus, that kind of thing). If something seems a little bit odd to you, chances are I explain it later.

Sera does not use a wand. She is not necessarily more powerful than your average witch, it’s just that she learned without one. You may be aware that canonically, Native American witches and wizards (Sera learns from one such family) didn’t use wands, and supposedly their magic was less powerful. I think that’s stupid. If a wand is a lightning rod, that doesn’t mean the lightning isn’t powerful outside of it, it’s just not as concentrated. As a result, the way Sera learned was without a wand but with more force behind each spell. She also learned in Awaswas, the native language of the Uypi tribe (historically they were a tribe living in the Santa Cruz mountains of Northern California, but unfortunately they are extinct now. However, I figure there’s no reason that magical families wouldn’t have been just fine against the colonizers), but she uses nonverbal magic almost exclusively now.

I think that’s everything. If you have any questions, please lmk.

Tag list:

@ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones @s-we-e-t-t-ea @almostg @leespparker @bubblebuttwade @glizzymcguirex @starberry-cake

To be added, please ask 💗

[incorrectcoldflashblog]

Answer the Questions and Tag 5 Fanfic Authors

Thank you so much to @kitkatt0430 for tagging me <3

1. How did you get into writing fanfiction?

Well, I got back into Coldflash in a big way a couple years ago, and kind of got frustrated not really seeing anything new in the tag, lol. Desperation is usually my biggest motivator to do anything. If I had unlimited new Coldflash fics coming out, I probably would never have written my own tbh.

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

Just the one. I used to do translations for a different fandom, though, so maybe two depending on if translating counts.

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

My own? Only a year and a half. Translating, maybe roughly ten years.

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

I probably write more now, but you wouldn’t know it because I’m such a slow writer!

5. What is one way you’ve improved as a writer?

Oh, I feel like my English has definitely gotten better since I started writing regularly. I always felt obligated to put a little disclaimer at the bottom, like please be nice to me, this isn’t my first language, lol. I feel a little bit more confident about it now (although I still obsessively google every sentence and word).

6. What’s the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I mean, thanks to Chapter 4 of What Happens in Vegas I know now way more than I ever needed to know about tornado sirens, considering we don’t have them in my country, lol. I also ended up doing extensive (and totally pointless) research about the ancient Sumerian city-state of Ur (located in the South of what is now modern-day Iraq), which is where Len/Cold was supposed to be from in my AU where he was a genie. For those who are unaware, Ur fell in about 2000 BC and had a very famous poem written about it. Here is the cheery opening of 11 stanzas of misery:

For the gods have abandoned us

like migrating birds they have gone

Ur is destroyed, bitter is its lament

The country's blood now fills its holes like hot bronze in a mould

Bodies dissolve like fat in the sun. Our temple is destroyed

Smoke lies on our city like a shroud.

blood flows as the river does

the lamenting of men and women

sadness abounds

Ur is no more

7. What’s your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

I always appreciate when people point out the parts they liked. But honestly I’m happy for people to comment at all, especially on older fics :)

8. What’s the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

I don’t know that anything I’ve written can be considered fringe, lol. I do have a Lisa/Iris WIP, which I assume would be more of a rarepair, but I only have one scene written for it so who knows if I’ll ever finish it. I guess the Genie AU was kind of strange.

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Longfics ;-; God, I’ve gained so much respect for people who can do that consistently for 60+ chapters, or over multiple fics in a series. My longfic isn’t even that long, comparatively, and I still feel like I will never get it done.

10. What is the easiest type?

One-shots, my beloved.

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

On my laptop. I just use Word and I prefer to write in the morning, which isn’t super ideal because it only leaves me the weekend to really get into it.

12. What is something you’ve been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I’m too nervous to start more longfics at the moment because I feel like two is my absolute limit but I’d love to be able to write both the TATBILB-inspired fic I had in mind and the Future Fic that I sometimes play around with. I’d have to finish at least one of my longer projects first, or maybe try to get the whole thing written before posting it but I’m usually too impatient to do that!

13. What made you choose your username?

My username is captainicecube and I picked it because it’s roughly how Captain Cold was translated in the French dub. They translated it as Captain Glaçons (Captain Icecubes), which always makes me laugh whenever I think about it because it’s so stupid XD

Tagging @crestfallercanyon @joanthangroff @tiger-in-the-flightdeck @softboydepot and @moriavis