#if he chose to be kinder to himself and dropped everyone else

[seiwas]

home by daughtry reminds me of deku in the most he-wouldn't-do-this-but-it's-the-life-i'd-want-for-him kinda way 🥲😭

[thewritingmagician2022]

It’s been established even in canon that Lucifer is very possessive of MC, wants to own them essentially. I mean, his character song Arcadia is basically about how he wants to have ownership of MC, even using the word ‘prisoner’ for it. How do you think he’d react to an MC that flat out tells him “You don’t own me.” Basically making it clear that they refuse to belong to him, despite his advances and attempts to make it so. An MC that demands to be free, no matter the consequences. With a determination for it that matches his own. I just think it would be an interesting development, and it would be intriguing to know what his reaction to that would be.

Btw your writing is absolutely fantastic and thank you for sharing it!!

This is a great question/food for thought. Lucifer is definitely the most yandere brother to me and he toes the line between love and abuse very finely sometimes, much more so than the others. It’s because he definitely views MC as an object, something to be won and coveted and shown off, another way to prove he’s better than everyone else because MC chose him (even if he may not have really given them a choice to begin with). 

With that in mind, Lucifer would struggle very hard with an MC who doesn’t yield easily to him. Lucifer is used to people giving him exactly what he wants when he wants, people far more powerful than this little human, so at first he’s in complete disbelief. He might let it slide at first, even though hearing “you don’t own me” from the human he so clearly does own ruffles his feathers more than a little. He would say that he’s angry because you’re being insolent and insulting him. In Lucifer’s mind, you are his and anyone in the three realms should consider themselves damn lucky to have this kind of attention from him. He’s the one who took you into his home, into his family. He watches out for you, feeds you, clothes you, has his brothers at your beck and call, makes sure you’re getting the most out of this interdimensional student assignment. You would be nothing in the Devildom without him and this is the thanks he gets? But it goes a lot deeper than that. Lucifer has grown to really care for you over time; he would go so far as to (privately) admit that he’s in love with you. He dotes on you, tries to make you happy with gifts and experiences, and is kinder to you than he is to just about anyone else. You are the only person in all 3 realms that can so easily draw out those old angelic qualities of his and make him think of another person as a person rather than just as an extension of himself. So to hear you say he doesn’t own you and that you want to be free from him is even more heartbreaking than it is infuriating (though sometimes it’s a very close call).

I think, at first, Lucifer will try the bribery strategy. He knows that you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar and he’s firmly of the mind that he can convince you to walk willingly into his arms and offer yourself to him. When that doesn’t work, he’ll switch to his angry demon persona and he’s full of threats and insults and, much like an abusive partner, will do everything in his power to put you in a position of helplessness only to save you at the last minute to prove how much you need him. But you’re stronger and smarter than that so Lucifer is forced to abandon that tactic when he realizes it’s only solidifying your decision and pushing you further away. If we’re being hopeful, I think your dedication to your beliefs and your inability to be bullied/conned/manipulated into subservience is what actually makes Lucifer finally see you as an equal and he’s able to properly love you at that point, which leads to him adjusting his thought processes and behavior to the point where you may be willing to stay with him because you know it’s no longer about obsession and possession but instead about respect and devotion. 

I'm so sorry about how late this is - I ran into some serious health issues and dropped this blog/fandom for a really long time.

[suuho]

i’m going to write this here, because i have nowhere else to put it and it is mostly for me. no one has to read this, but i just need somewhere to put all my feelings.

it’s been a month since you’re gone, gavin. one unfathomably long yet fleeting month, one so long that i cannot begin to imagine how i am supposed to live a myriad of them, years even, without you. every day, i think about you. every day, there is something that reminds me of you and let it just be the sun in the sky. i keep replaying our moments (not enough, not enough at all; the universe should’ve been much kinder in that regard. honestly, fuck all of that) in my mind; i keep replaying every hug you ever gave me, so tight it squeezed the life back into me—or, as the saying goes, put me back together.

i drew gavin after i met him in person and gave him that drawing, and he told me eventually that he put it up in his dressing room in london because he rarely got any art during his waitress run. it wasn’t much of a drawing, more of a sketch really, and i felt rusty after months of not having done it. but i remember to this day that i was surprised by how well i captured his likeness (for my standards anyway), and i was just glad that he appreciated it. art, music, joy, love—the things he gave to the world were the things he loved the most.

in all the years i kept catching myself thinking, my, how lucky we are that he never chose television or movies, knowing fully well he had a disney show lined up that fell through at the start of the pandemic. it maybe was a selfish thing to think, after all what i only ever wanted for him was success and happiness, and for the world to see him the way i did, as the most spectacular performer that has ever graced the stage. but what i loved about him so much is how he selflessly gave himself so purely and utterly to musical theater, fully aware of the limitations and shortcomings of the industry, and yet he embraced it. something that others think of as embarrassing and cringey—he revered it. and he knew that i did so, too, something we bonded over.

i will be in the middle of doing something, anything, and i will stop and think of him. and i have never known grief to be so difficult to deal with, something that would tear me apart like this, over and over. i’m coming to understand that there won’t ever be any getting over this loss, and i’m trying to sit with that and let myself experience and feel it, because i know it is just the overwhelming love i have for him, and the pure affection we had for each other.

in all honesty, the world doesn’t make sense to me right now. it just seems illogical that gavin is gone; i want to be on another planet, in another timeline, anywhere else. i just can’t stand the thought that he’s not here anymore. i don’t think anyone can; how glad all of us were to be touched by his bright light, even just in such short moments. everyone has only ever known his love and kindness; i am so glad that he was just as wonderful as i thought him to be, as he was to me when i met him. no one has ever respected me as much as gavin, and no one ever made me feel as welcomed and safe as he did. and he did that for everyone.

what a gift to the world.

one month is so long, and simultaneously not long at all. just a blink of an eye. to think that his health deteriorated so fast makes me sick to my stomach. it is all just so unfair. i hope his friends and family take all the time they need; that they will find a moment most befitting to them to dim the lights and that they can honor his memory. that there is enough space for them to mourn even though i am sure that the empty space he left behind will never be filled. it is too huge, too singular, too him. no one could ever replace him.

i’ve been ill for so many years, that it always feels like the other shoe is just about to drop. maybe, someday it will. and when it happens, i just hope i will leave the world behind a little kinder, just like you. it’s the one thing any of us should aspire to—to love so openly and wholly, that your memory is full of kindness and sweetness, and pure, unbridled joy. you lived and loved wide open.

i will love you wide open. i will love you forever. i know i was such a lucky fool to get even just a few, rich moments with you, to strike up this cosmic connection. i never took it for granted, and i never will.

i’ll keep finding you everywhere around me.

i love you, angel man. i’ll see you on stage soon, or somewhere else. just like we promised. until then, keep the lights on over there.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Selfish Jerk

Jim Hopper x Reader

Rating: Fluff, a little angst.

Summary: Hopper doesn't want you involved in the mess of the Upside-Down and when you demand an answer - it's something you didn't expect.

a/n: anon request! Taking place during season 2.

The light was dull from Steve’s flashlight as you held up a hand against it, you scolded the young adult and told him to put it down. He rolled his eyes and explained that he just wanted to make sure you did not have a concussion.

“Hopper would kill me if he knew I let you tag along…”

“I’m an adult,” you reminded him, pushing away his hand. “Now get that light out of my eyes – I am fine.”

“Your forehead is bleeding, and you can barely move your arm,” Dustin pointed out, shoving Steve out of the way. His eyes squinted as if he was trying to asset your physical health – laughing, you gently pushed the kid away from the bleacher you were sitting on.

“Just get me something to clean up, okay?”

The pair shared a worried glance before leaving you sitting alone, Steve mentioning that there had to be a first aid kit somewhere. You watched as they shoved each other and argued about letting you come along – again you hear Hopper being brought up. Now that you could take a moment to gather your thoughts – you knew he was going to be upset that you now were involved in this whole Upside-Down debacle. You were just the new English teacher in town, even though it had been a few years now since you moved to Hawkins – you still felt out of place. A stranger in tight knit community where everyone knew everyone. While the adults had all been nice, Hopper had become a friend. It started with an act of vandalism on your car and a report to the station that introduced the two of you – he was a bit irate that morning, but you had quickly realized that was just Jim. Eventually, after a cup of coffee, he was a kinder version of himself, and you had appreciated his help. The two of you concluded that the act was revenge for a bad grade, and he offered to clean up paint off your car. This led to a thank you lunch and eventually the two of you found comfort and company in each other – of course, it was all so platonic, as much as that disappointed you.

There were whispers and information given to you about his ex-wife and late daughter, but that was none of your business, Hopper would tell you when and if he wanted to – and he did. After a few drinks at his place one night, he had cooked dinner, the two of you sat on his front porch. He told you everything and was gentle in his words, and you could feel the pain in his eyes – all you wanted to do was wrap him in your arms, but how could you? In such a vulnerable state, it would feel as if you were taking advantage of him – even though, in that moment, you had realized the feelings you had for the man.

That was a nearly a year ago and thing had changed.

Eleven.

She had come into his life and things started to happen in Hawkins, things everyone else chose to ignore or just didn’t see. It started with the Will Byers going missing – he was part of a group of boys that you had a soft spot for. Your classroom had become their sanctuary and often, you had enjoyed their company during lunch. You had noticed something about Hopper too – he was hiding something; you just knew it but knew he would tell you when he was ready.  

Then one night, he had no choice.

 You had driven to Joyce Byers house to drop off some drawings Will had done for a class assignment, along with some food you had cooked – anything to help ease the family, even if just meant a warm meal. What you were met with once you got there was three teenagers, armed and frightened. Everything happened so fast, you were handed a crowbar and suddenly you were fighting for your life – and as the only adult, the lives of the minors in the house.

In the end, Johnathan and Nancy explained everything to you and a very confused Steve Harrington. You wouldn’t have believed it if not for the fact you had seen this monster with your own eyes. Hopper had arrived at the house with Joyce and the others – and his face when he walked in and saw you was priceless. From there on out, he had kept you informed with everything that was going on but wanted you to have nothing to do with the situation.

You had respected his wishes for a while, and when he took in Eleven – you had been there for him, even coming around to give her lessons and just be there for the two of them. Now, you were too involved with everything and cared too much to stand by. So, when you saw Steve hauling ass in his car with Dustin in the passenger seat, you followed them in your car. Once they went into the woods, you chased after them – armed with an axe you kept in your car, after the experience at the Byers, keeping a weapon nearby was a must, even if you weren’t fighting Upside-Down creatures. Dustin was elated to have his teacher along for the ride, but Steve was mortified that he was now having to babysit Hawkins’ most appreciated English teacher.

“Don’t worry, I know how to use this,” you advised, holding up the axe. Steve sighed but confessed he was relieved.

“I need some backup,” he smiled, teasing that Dustin was more of a backseat driver.

“HEY, I GIVE GREAT DIRECTIONS!”

Steve rolled his eyes and looked at you. “Nice to have an actual adult around – I think that’s the first time I’ve ever said that…”

You laughed and the three of you ventured on – and later that night, you were at Steve’s side, fighting Demogorgon demon dogs from hell while keeping the kids safe. The two of you won the fight, but you had gotten hurt. Steve and the kids were able to bring you back to the Byers residence, but no sign of Joyce or Hopper anywhere. You rested on the couch and listened to Steve shouting for someone to help find first aid supplies, while the others murmured amongst themselves – everyone was trying to stay calm. Closing your eyes for a moment, you thought of the promise you made Hopper.

He didn’t want you involve at all and now you were hurt, and you were sure he wasn’t going to be happy. A part of you wondered if it was because you were in love with him, that you felt the need to help or the fact that you had come to love Eleven as well. The two of them had filled a void in your life and the happiest moments in your life recently, had been with them. You wondered and worried Hopper didn’t want you involved because you would just be in the way of him saving and protecting the people he cared for.

Of course, you believed Hopper cared for you, but only as a friend. You even got it in your head that there was something going on between Joyce and him, even though she was seeing Bob. It was silly to think of romance potential when this crazy shit was happening, so you brushed away all thoughts and thanked Steve when he finally brought over some supplies.

“I’ll clean up in the bathroom,” you said, declining an offer from him when he asked if you needed help because of your arm. “It doesn’t hurt that much, thanks.”

Moving to the hallway, the murmurs and chaotic energy died down. When you closed the door to the bathroom, you let out a deep breath. Your body was exhausted and once you looked in the mirror, you were thankful the kids didn’t make a huge fuss about your appearance. Blood, your blood, was coated against your forehead, along with some sticky matter that did not belong to you or any human. Disgusted, you turned on the faucet but before you could even feel the cold water on your dehydrated face, a sharp knock abrupted from the door.

“Steve, I’m good!”

“It’s not Harrington.”

The deeply irate voice echoed in your ears and your eyes closed for a moment before opening the door – Hopper stood there in disbelief. His facial expression was anger at first, but as his eyes took in the damage on your face, his face relaxed.

“What the hell happened,” he asked cautiously, closing the door behind him. You held strong, shrugging lightly as he guided you against the sink counter. His hands came to your shoulders, and he took a deep breath. “What the hell were you thinking, you made a promise, didn’t you?”

“I’m not a child, I’m not Eleven,” you argued, turning around to face the faucet. This time Hopper didn’t interrupt as you washed up, only offering a dry towel. Taking it, you made a mental note to buy Joyce a new towel – your blood was all over it now. “I saw Steve and Dustin going into the woods – I knew something was up, what was I supposed to do?”

Hopper’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing. You do nothing – I – I don’t want you involved in all this!”

“Don’t yell at me,” you warned, grabbing the rubbing alcohol off the counter. He watched as you dampened a clean part of the towel with it and held it against your forehead. “I wasn’t going to let those kids go in all alone – Steve and I, we fought a bunch of those damn things! I don’t know if they all would have survived had I not been there. “

“Harrington would have handled it.”

“He’s a fucking kid, Hopper – they all are!”

“I don’t want you involved,” he grunted. You glared at him, and he sighed, as if he knew what you were thinking. “Eleven is different – she’s…”

“You care about her, you love her,” you whispered, removing the towel from your head. “I get it, she can’t help but be apart of this all. I know if it was up to you, she would never have to deal with this crap again. I love her too, Jim.”

“I know you do.”

“Then why the hell can’t I help protect her? Why can’t I put my life on the line for her, for all those kids out there! For this town!”

The yelling was sure to get the attention of everyone in the house, but you didn’t care – not when you just wanted a straight answer from Hopper. You just wanted to know why he wouldn’t even allow you to fight with him, especially for the people you had come to care about. You were angry and frustrated because he wasn’t going to push you to the sidelines. All this time, when it came to Hopper, you were nothing but patient. But now, you wanted answered.

“Tell me why you are choosing to keep me from helping El.”

“Because.”

You laughed dryly, again, turning from him to face the mirror. He watched as you dabbed at the slash on your forehead – the bleeding had stopped but it was staring to burn. Neither of you said a word as you worked on getting it cleaned up, but then your eyes caught his and you frowned.

“We’re not getting anywhere here,” you turned to him and shrugged. “This isn’t important right now, we need to find El. We need to figure out our next move.”

“There isn’t a next move for you,” Hopper insisted, but all you could do was let out a controlled breath and move to the door. Whatever reason he had to keep you from this, it didn’t matter when everyone’s life was still in danger. Turning the knob, you told him you’d be with the others when he grabbed you by the elbow – holding you back.

“I can’t let you do this,” he explained, voice pained and weak.

“Why not,” you whispered.

His hand fell from your elbow, and you turned to face him – Hopper’s eyes were somber, he looked conflicted as he stepped to you.

“Because I’m a selfish jerk,” he finally let out, reaching a hand your face. His palm felt warm against your cheek - not a word could be formed as he stared at you. “I’m afraid of losing El, but I know she can handle this – she’s different, but you? God damn it, sweetheart, I don’t think I can handle losing you.”

His name fell from your lips, and he smiled weakly, brushing matted hair from your face – his thumb moving to caress your chin. “God, I love you.”

Being aware of the danger that was looming in the air, the pain seeping through your forehead and arm, and the voices echoing from down the hall, only heightened the feeling gathering in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t believe the words Jim had just spoke out into the world, to you – it had been something you weren’t sure was attainable. You would have been happy enough with the dinners and movie nights with him and El – even if that was all you would be given. It was okay, because it meant being in Hopper’s life – a man that was clearly broken, who had been eaten alive by the universe. Yet here he was.

Confessing.

“Are – are you going to say something,” he whispered, his eyes trying to analyze yours. You let out a low laugh and smiled up at the sheriff.

“I love you too…”

Hopper grinned and leaned in for a kiss, but you pulled away. His face went slack in confusion, and you touched his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“I love you, Hopper. I love El and I want us to be a family – I want us to live together and navigate raising a teenager together. But you need to know something.”

“What?”

You grinned. “I’m very protective of my family and I’m not going to let anyone stop me from doing that – not even you.”

“Shit,” he laughed, pulling you closer. He held you tight for a moment before pressing his lips against yours. His mouth was eager and all you wanted to do was lock the two of you in the bathroom forever, but things needed to be done. El needed to be found. He kissed you once more before breaking apart from you. His face was sheepish, and he held back a grin. “Alright, we’re going to do this – but you stay by my side, okay? And when I saw run, you run – got it?”

Pulling from Hopper, you held onto his waist and smiled at him. “Okay.”

[adelheidvonschicksal]

I could do a scenario where reader loves to mess with megumi's hair, but suddenly she stops because she thinks she's bothering him.

The first time you notice how soft his hair is was when you were returning to school after a long mission.

You were riding in a car with the entire first-year gang. Nobara sat in the front seat next to Ijichi while you were placed in the back between Yuji and Megumi. The ride back was a long one. After an exhausting day of exorcising curses, you were all tired. Nobara and Yuji ended up falling asleep minutes into the ride, leaving Megumi to watch the sights passing through the window and you shyly trying to make conversation with him.

It's hard considering the strong crush you have on your fellow classmate. He was intelligent, kinder than he really let on, and fairly mature (at least compared to the people you’re usually around). His good looks were the cherry on top of the entire package. Everyone knew Megumi was a pretty boy and often teased him about it. He had fair skin, long, thick eyelashes, and your favorite being his dark hair. It looked so soft whenever your teacher would pat his head, flattening out the black tresses and ruffling them, much to Megumi’s chagrin. But you really wished you could feel as well.

You were the type of person to show your fondness for others through touch. Some people liked it, and some didn’t. For example, Yuji normally had no problem with you touching him, even welcomed it. You weren’t brave enough to ask someone like Megumi for the same sort of relationship, so you kept your hand to yourself when it came to him. At least until Megumi fell asleep, leaning against the car door for support. It’s then you saw your chance and carefully reached to touch one of the longer spikes.

The little black point wavered at your poking, lightly curling around your index finger as you swirled it around. You giggled to yourself about it. It’s thicker and fluffier than you imagined and also incredibly soft, proving Kugisaki’s theory about a ton of hairspray wrong.

Suddenly, a bump in the road cut your touching short, and you quickly jumped away when Megumi’s eyes began to flutter open.

Suspicious, he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” you said calmly despite your heart thumping under his gaze, but he dropped his interrogation as you all pulled into the school’s parking lot.

That was three months ago.

Now, the two of you were dating, and you saw that as permission to continue your physical intimacy with your more introverted boyfriend.

“Good morning, guys,” you greet your classmates and teacher with a wave, saving your happier actions for Megumi as your hand immediately goes towards his head to ruffle his hair. You pull your hand away but not before letting your fingers clasp your favorite cowlick. Giving a gentle tug, you let it bounce back into place with a smile.

Megumi groans softly, his mouth pursed into a slight frown as he goes to fix his hair back into its normal disarray.

Gojo claps, bringing your attention towards him. “Well now that everyone’s here, let’s go shopping.”

With that, the five of you head to the shopping district despite the heat bearing down on the city. You spend about an hour walking around before deciding to take a break so Nobara and Gojo can catch their breath in the shade while you return some clothes you bought a few weeks earlier across the street. Megumi and Yuji go to buy all five of you drinks, but it isn’t long before you hear Yuji yelling from outside the store.

“Sensei! Kugisaki! Fushiguro is getting hit on! We have to protect (L/Name)’s relationship!”

Before you could even stop them, they’re already up and running in Fushiguro’s direction. Sighing, you grab your card from the store owner and run to catch up with your group.

When you arrive, Kugisaki and Itadori are already clinging to him and ranting something about being in love with him before Gojo saunters up in his best casual wear to challenge them. You have to stifle back a laugh as he goes on about music practice and homewrecking before the event ends with Megumi smacking Yuji in the head as Nobara and Gojo stalk off, defeated.

Hearing your laughter, Yuji cowers behind you with tearful chibi eyes. “Do you see that, (Name)? Fushiguro is so mean. I was only trying to help him and that's the treatment I get .”

“You didn’t help at all. You were nothing short of embarrassing.”

You giggle at the two before reaching out to your silently fuming boyfriend. “No need to be so grumpy, Megumi-kun, or did Gojo give you too much violin homework,” you sing out teasingly, earning a growl about how it isn’t funny as you playfully scramble his hairstyle.

“And that! Will you stop with that?” Megumi demands and forcefully shoves your hand away. “It’s so annoying. You don’t see me petting you all day like some damn pet.”

“Oh,” you say, stepping back from him in your shock. This is the first time Megumi has brought up how you chose to dote on him. Yes, he’d quietly grumble about it from time to time like most things, but he never yelled at you about how you chose to display your affection. You guess you never really realized how much it truly bothered him. Biting back the hurt in your voice, you apologize. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

Megumi grunts softly in response, and Yuji decides it’s probably best to ask Gojo to take you all home for today.

It isn’t long after that Megumi begins to notice your interactions with him starting to change. He apologized for yelling at you soon after the event, but you were still much less touchy with him even after accepting his apology.

Normally, you’d grab onto his hand without so much as asking or surprise him with kisses on his cheek. Now, you only hold his pinky from time to time and only if he asks. You also stop your go-to of rubbing his head when you’d greet him or playing with the ends of his hair when you were bored.

Megumi thought maybe something was bothering you, but then he noticed how you’d still laugh and joke around with Yuji and Nobara, your hand gripping onto their shoulder when they’d tell an extra funny joke or affectionately patting them on the back. That wasn’t the worst though. The worst was when you’d absentmindedly sweep Yuji’s hair back into place when it got messy from training. The jealousy it sparked in Megumi was the last straw that makes him decide to ask you what was wrong.

You’re surprised when he tugs on your sleeve, interrupting your conversation with Itadori and Kugisaki. “Hey, can we talk?”

“Sure,” you say, nodding off to Itadori and Kugisaki before following Megumi to the waterspouts outside. You both sat together on the brick square surrounding the structure. It’s a few quiet seconds of you staring at Megumi as he folds his hands in front of him and lazily taps his foot. Dark blue eyes stare at you before dropping back to the ground.

“Are you still mad at me for yelling at you the other week?”

You shake your head. “I told you it’s fine. I’m not mad at you about that.”

“Then, it’s something else,” he decides, and he desperately tries to rack his brain for what else he could have possibly done wrong, “I’m sure I didn’t forget your birthday or anything. Do you not like me anymore or something?”

Gasping, you deny his claim, “Of course I like you, why would you think I don’t?”

“Because you’re not so friendly with me anymore like the way you are with the others, so either you’re upset with me, or you don’t have the same feelings for me as you do with them.”

“It’s neither of those things. With Yuji and Nobara, they’re both sociable people, but you aren’t like them. You don’t like all that kind of stuff, and I don’t want to annoy you by doing things you don’t like.”

Megumi scowls at your confession, sighing because he remembers exactly why you must be talking like this so suddenly. He specifically called your touches annoying, and he inwardly curses at himself for it. “You’re wrong. It’s not that I don’t like it…” he begins unsurely then pauses.

“Then, what?”

Megumi groans softly, an embarrassed heat starting to build in his cheeks as he quietly croaks out, “Feels good.”

“What’s that?” you ask, scooting closer so you can hear him better.

Megumi blushes lightly and cranks his head to look away from your cutely confused blinking. “It feels good when you do it,” he repeats robotically.

“When I do what?”

“When you play with my hair,” he hesitantly explains in more detail, “When Gojo does it, it’s aggravating, but I don't mind so much with you.”

Hesitantly, you ask, “So is it okay if I do it now?”

Megumi nods. “If you want.”

Cautiously, you lift your hand, pulling back in doubt a few times before ultimately sliding your fingers through his hair and rubbing. Megumi groans softly at your touch, and you realize that all those rushed noises of aggravation were actually him moaning from how light and comforting your touch was. You move your hand forward and backward some more, massaging his head until his head starts nodding and his eyes flutter a bit.

You giggle at him. “Are you falling asleep? You’re such a kid.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”

You laugh louder as he scoffs to hide his embarrassment.

“In that case, you can sleepover with me tonight, and we can do this if you want,” you offer sweetly, and Megumi glances at you, thinking it over. As your smile grows and your hand hits that sweet spot right at the nape of his neck, he couldn’t deny that he liked the idea of falling asleep with you playing with his hair.

“I’d like that.”

[linecoveredinjellyfish]

a list of themes and motifs in goncharov (1973)

Clocks, watches, and timepieces (the characters constantly check their watches before exiting scenes, there is a cukoo clock in the house goncharov primarily shares with katya which goes off twice at pivotal moments, the loudly ticking clock just out of frame in andrey's father's office, and the constant visibility of big ben through the window at the london office) - representing the idea of "running out of time". not only is every single character on a tight deadline, but many of them are on deadlines they don't even realize. goncharov's relationship with katya, for example, has to be fixed before she enacts her plan to fake her death (which he doesn't even know she's planning to do). also, the characters who die all seem to subconcioously realize that they don't have much time left. sofia's insistence that katya go to sicily alone, for example, is loosely motivated if sofia doesn't know that she's about to be shot.

Broken glass, especially broken mirrors (katya breaks her vanity mirror early in the film, right before asking sofia to help her fake her death, goncharov's face is reflected in the broken window about halfway through, andrey drops a glass when it's revealed that goncharov has pre-empted his betrayal) - each of these moments, though not very similar, ties into an identity crisis. katya is contemplating whether she can continue being a perfect little mafia wife, goncharov is, though we don't know it yet, grappling with his love for andrey and andrey's oncoming betrayal (wondering if he wants to be the type of person who would pre-emptively betray someone he truly cared about), and andrey (who decided not to betray goncharov not two scenes earlier, as a result of his own identity crisis) is regretting the person he chose to be. each of these scenes ties into the greater narrative question: is there a difference between who you are as a person, and what roles you choose to fill?

The color red (katya wears red lipstick in all her scenes with sofia, goncharov wears a bright red tie when he tries to make up with katya, sofia wears a red dress to the tense dinner with katya and goncharov, and andrey has his famous red jacket) - red symbolizes the better, kinder, (queerer) choice. katya and sofia wear red to seduce each other. goncharov wears red when attempting to fix his marraige, primarily as a way of lying to himself (idk this could be nothing but the tie is the only piece of red clothing that a character dons on-screen. everyone else simply appears wearing it in the next scene, but goncharov has to put the tie on in front of us, as a deliberate action). and do i really have to say anything about andrey?

[fa-headhoncho]

Unlike The Rest: Part 2

George Weasley x Reader (eventually)

Prompt: The school year has finally begun and things already seem to be going wrong.

Word Count: 2555

Reader: Female

Warning: Let me know what I could work on and what you would like to see in this series. I expect this to be a longer one and I have a lot of ideas for the future but I’m stuck on some filler chapters. So, please let me know.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

======

The carriage ride up to the castle was very uncomfortable, to say the least. Cedric tried to get you to talk but once his friends started talking, they made you feel out of place. His friends talked about all the wild adventures they had this summer and reminisced about years past together. All stuff that didn’t include or relate to you. 

The only time Cedric’s friends seemed to have an interest in you when they spoke about Quidditch merely because you were a chaser on the team. And when you did talk, they just ignored you or rolled their eyes. You just wished you could do first year all over again and reintroduce yourself to everyone. 

Nonetheless, you did appreciate Cedric for trying to help you make new friends but you’d rather keep to yourself. Making friends is hard when all people see is your last name.

Walking into the Great Hall with the group, you gaze up at the tall ceiling. It’s bewitched to emulate the sky outside. Every year you are welcomed by it. You believe it helps with the new year jitters and the claustrophobia of hundreds of children in one room.

You start to trail behind Cedric and his friends, taking it all in. This is your home. The floating candles, the professors sitting at the front of the room, the natural warmth of the castle just screams belonging. A large smile appears on your face once again, something that only this place can bring. 

This year you are determined to focus on your studies… specifically Care of Magical Creatures. You’ve been reading all summer to get ahead in that class. Being a Malfoy, people don’t see your family as the caring or gentle type. They’ve proven that. Which, unfortunately, Care of Magical Creatures is all about. But, unlike the rest of the Malfoys, Hagrid has said you have a special talent when it comes to caring for creatures. You are gentle and caring. Hence the reason why you were put into Hufflepuff. So, you want to prove to everyone else, and your family, that a Malfoy can have a heart.

“Daydreaming yet again, Yeti?” Cedric’s chuckle interrupts your thoughts. He noticed you straying away from the group and saw you just standing there, staring up at the sky. This didn’t surprise him, you’ve always seemed to be in your own world or gathered up in thoughts. 

You shake your head fondly at the nickname. It originated one day when he was trying to cheer you up after he found you crying in the hallway. You had failed your team at the last Quidditch match, falling off your broom and knocking Cedric off along the way. Ultimately costing the winning catch that secured the team a tremendous lead in the rankings.

The team collectively decided that they didn’t need you anymore so they never told when practices were. The backlash from your house was horrid too. People who taunted you in the hallways or blamed the fact that “Malfoy needed to have all the attention”. Hufflepuff has always been known as the kinder house but oh were they brutal. 

It all led up to your break down in Charms when someone told you that maybe jinxing yourself to the broom might be helpful. Cedric, as big-hearted as he is, followed you out and comforted you. At first, you thought it was a sick joke, going off on him. In return he just called you a Yeti, comparing the fact that no one could ever get close enough to see the real way you live. Plus the fact that you were madly aggressive on the pitch. You knew that you made a friend after that. 

“I was just thinking.” You confess, falling into step beside him as you make your way to the Hufflepuff table.

“That’s never good.”

“Oh, shut it, Diggory.” You laugh, giving his arm a slight slap. “I’m just excited about this year… Hagrid told me about all the new creatures Professor Kettleburn has in store for us.”

“Well, that is good then.” He corrects himself, taking a seat next to one of the beaters on the team. “I’m glad you’re excited about something. I know you talked about how nervous you were about Draco coming this year in your letters.”

You sigh, in the few letters you and Cedric shared during the summer, you’d confide in him about what’s been going at home; The newfound hope in Draco to carry on the Malfoy name with pride and loyalty. How they'd just left you in your room all summer to survive on your own while they made sure Draco had everything he needed to do so. It made you feel like shit. At first, when summer began, you thought things were getting better at home when you were welcomed with kind arms. Unfortunately, it was cut short when the realization of Draco’s first year was in a few months.

“Hey,” Cedric, once again, cuts your thoughts off. By this point he knows when you’re spiraling in your own head. “maybe it won’t be so bad after all.”

Right on cue, the first years all file in. Either looking lost or excited, it brings back memories of your first year. Remembering being so terrified of all the older kids staring as you walked past them. Wondering how Draco would fall in, you try looking for him. He wasn’t hard to find since in the front of the crowd, a devious smirk on his face as always. He knows what house he’s going to be in and he’s probably been boasting about it all the way here. It’s been drilled into his brain that he belongs in Slytherin, the house of the most powerful and legendary wizards. Which, according to your parents, Hufflepuff doesn’t have the means to accomplish. 

Draco then takes a glance at said table. Seeing you looking out of place as ever and he rolls his eyes at it. Turning back to his friends and whispering something to them while pointing. They erupt into laughter and you frown slightly.

“Well, I don’t think your brother could be as bad as you were.” Malcolm Preece, another chaser on the team, decides to open his big mouth. He’s a fifth-year and he always has something to say. You grab the nearest thing and throw it at him, he dodges it. “Aye, I said were.” He defends himself and then casually goes back to his own conversation.

You bite your tongue and shoot daggers into the side of his head.

“Oh, I’ve missed you, (Y/N).” Cedric wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives you a small hug.

=====

“...this has to be a joke, Ced.” You whisper to him while Professor Quirrell goes on about the spell you’ll be learning this week. “How will this be useful in the eye of a duel?” You rhetorically ask him. “There’s no way this git is qualified to work here.”

“Oh, don’t be so harsh, (Y/N).” Cedric scolds as Quirrell commands the students to review their notes, “I’m sure he’s more than proven himself to Dumbledore to be here.”

“It’s a bloody tickling curse!” You stress, utterly dumbfounded on why you would be learning this. “In the midst of a battle, I don’t think my murderer would think of making me laugh to death.”

He just shakes his head at you, a small laugh escaping his lips at the image of it.

“It would be a good way to go.” Fred Weasley, the brute of all jokes himself, cuts in. Obviously, you weren’t whispering quiet enough. “Wouldn’t it be, Georgie?” He turns to his twin sitting beside him.

“I think so, Freddie.” He immediately agrees, you roll your eyes at the two. You know where this is going.

“Here we go,” You mumble.

“Imagine it,” George puts his hands in front of himself, widely gesturing with his quill. “Going toe to toe in battle, shouting wild curses at each other, wands waving, spells casting, and then, out of nowhere—” He suddenly stops, pointing his quill at you. 

“Rictusempra!” The other one continues, “And, boom! You’re on the ground within seconds, laughing like a complete mad man. Utterly painless.” Some of your classmates laugh at them, you shake your head at the show. “A bliss way to die.” They both stare dreamingly into nothing, a small smile on both of their faces.

“You both are morons.” You deadpan, George just smirks while Fred has an exasperated look on his face.

“Morons?” He gasps, “Then, how would you like to die then, Malfoy?” He probes, his eyebrow hitched up. “A slow, painful death at the hands of a Dementor?” A few laugh.

“Preferably, yes.”

=====

You try to keep up with the fast steps of the Deputy Headmistress. Almost tripping over your robe as she speeds down the corridors, her own robes whizzing behind her. The fact that McGonagall is even accompanying you in a class switch makes your mind boggle since your head of house is Sprout.

“But, Professor, I don’t want to change subjects.” You beg, “It must be a mistake, I chose to take Muggle Studies this year, what happened?”

“Your father, Miss Malfoy.” She suddenly stops, you almost bump into her. “He demands you transfer into a different subject that doesn’t ‘deteriorate the brain’.” She quotes, “And I have to deal with it because Professor Sprout refuses to read his letters after the terrible scriptures he sent her over the last two years. I’ve got enough on my plate with my own students to be worried about hers.”

Your mouth drops, of course, he would’ve. You knew your father was mad about your house placement but you never thought he would go as far as to berated your head of house. At Hogwarts, your house is supposed to be your family no matter what and your father disrespecting your head was utterly disgusting.

“You shouldn’t be surprised, Miss Malfoy.” She continues to speak, obviously furious. “You knew this would happen when you signed up for the elective last year.”

You knew this would happen when you involuntarily signed up to be a Malfoy.

You frown, knowing she’s right about the whole thing. You thought your parents were too focused on Draco to even think about you and your classes this year. Hell, they’ve been too focused on him to even acknowledge your existence during the summer so why did they care about your classes.

“I truly do apologize, Professor McGonagall.” You look down at your shoes, too nervous to look her in her eyes. “I didn’t realize my father was doing that… nor would he interfere with my schooling. I just…” You let out a long sigh. “I just thought the class would be interesting and a bit different, is all, compared to what I’ve learned about muggles at home.”

The woman’s face immediately softens. She knew that getting sorted into Hufflepuff was going to be an issue from the moment the hat shouted it. You were clearly unhappy and confused, mumbling curse words at the hat as you made your way to the Hufflepuff table. The Malfoys have been Slytherins since she was in her own school days so when she heard the hat say something otherwise, she knew something would come out of it. 

Your father had insisted it was a mistake in every letter he sent to Dumbledore talking about how the hat was a fake and it must've been a ploy against the Malfoy name. But Dumbledore was just as persistent with backing the hat and it’s house assigning criteria.

“It is out of my control, Miss Malfoy.” McGonagall puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. “As an underage wizard, you do not have a say in the matter. We must listen to your guardians.”

“I understand, Professor.”

=====

The scent of musty floral perfume hits you like bricks as you walk into the room. Following McGonagall between the risers, you hold your books tighter to your chest. You look around once you get into the “stage” area of the classroom. The curtains are drawn, giving the room a somber vibe. The different levels hold a bit too many tables for the number of students actually attending the class. Taking a glance at the students, some are either sleeping or staring at you, glad for the interruption. 

“Professor Trelawney,” McGonagall interrupts the short woman gazing into a crystal ball. Her large eyes immediately snap to the two of you. “I have a transfer from Muggle Studies.”

The eccentric witch gets up and looks over to you, the whole classes’ eyes follow her. “Ahhh,” She sighs, pointing a finger. “I knew you would end up here, (Y/N) Malfoy.” She gives a knowing smile, Professor McGonagall just rolls her eyes while she continues to go on about what she saw in the ball about a visitor here to stay.

“Well, I have other things to attend to regarding my Quidditch team if you would kindly show Miss Malfoy to her seat,” McGonagall commands with a firm nod.

“Of course, of course!” She excitedly affirms, putting a hand to your back and guiding you towards the front of the strange classroom. You give the Charms Professor pleading eyes as she leaves the room but she just ignores you and continues on her way.

“Now,” She turns you both to the whole class. “Who would like to do the honor of having Miss Malfoy as a partner? I sense she will be a great help in this class,” She asks, everyone sits in silence. There are a few students without partners but they’d rather be alone than be with you. 

“Well, a little unpopular we are, I see,” Trelawney mumbles to no one in particular, you immediately look down at your feet. “How ‘bout you find your own seat, love?” 

You go straight to the back and take the first seat in the row, not daring to look at anyone on the way up.

“Oh, what type of wicked witch did I cross to get a curse like this?” The familiar disgust of one of the Weasley boys hits your ears. Your head snaps to him, trying to quickly identify which twin you would be spending the year with. 

“Hush it, George.” You sneer, not in the mood for his shit. “Or are you Fred?” You squint, the dim candlelight not helping distinguish which. “No, Fred is much more clever with his insults.”

George just rolls his eyes at you, “He might have the brains but I’ve got the looks.” He leans back in his chair, putting his arms behind his head and his feet on the table. “Don’t you agree, Malfie?” He eggs, a smirk on his face.

You let out a scoff. “You both look like gnomes stacked on each other under a robe… Especially with that carrot top of a head of yours.” You push his feet off the table, setting your books where they were. The shove sends his balance off and he falls back onto the floor.

“Well, you were right about Fred having the brains, huh?” You stare down at him. The redhead sticks his tongue out at you like a five-year-old. “This is going to be a long year.” You mumble under your breath.

[lemonsandstrawberries]

A Day for Romance

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

summary: Tony and Steve didn’t have a romantic Valentine’s day in years and when Tony decides to fix it, something unexpected stops him. 

length: 1 831

a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! I know some people dislike this day, but for me, it was always more about celebrating all kinds of love, not only the romantic one, but love to your friends, to your pets, to everyone who you hold dear to your heart, and to yourself! So, treat yourself today, because you deserve it! if you like this fic, don’t forget to show me some love, feedback, reblogs and likes are appreciated and needed!

—————

A Day for Romance

"Tony... What's that?"

Steve found himself not able to stop smiling. There was some feeling coming back, one he didn't feel quite in a while, or at least not as prominently as now. Giddiness? Yes, that was the word.

By Tony's smile, twitching and spreading and the happy sparkle in his eyes, Steve could say that Tony felt the same, pleased that his Valentine's surprise worked out so well. Every day, their bedroom presented quite simple, with crumpled sheets, lone clothes here and there, organized in a modern, minimalistic style and with few heartwarming accents like their wedding photo on the nightstand, or more humoristic ones, meaning the tie with a ducky pattern, looped over the wardrobe handle. This was like cupid decided to drop by, got drunk on Tony's scotch, and vomited everywhere.

"Oh my gosh, how did you even - " Steve laughed, still not believing what he was seeing. He was an artist and had a good eye for color, but it was like Tony used the whole palette of red and pink shades and sprinkled random Valentine's day accents all over their bedroom, from the cheesiest giant pastel pink teddy bear, ending on the enormous deep red bouquet of royal roses.

"I decided that we didn't have enough of romance in the past Valentine's days and decided to make up for it," Tony said, sashaying over to Steve, his hips doing some magic movements. To cut the sugar down, Tony chose to wear a simple, black suit, that made him stand out nicely.

"Make up for it?" Steve asked in humor. "More like cramming last five years into it," he answered himself. It wasn't like he and Tony lacked romance in their relationship, it just simmered down into something more steady and comfortable in the last years. Being together for almost a decade developed their relationship from the wild and not having enough of each other into a sturdy and comfortable feeling of knowing that the other person would be always there. The love was still present and growing, not needing outbursts of feelings, but small everyday gestures of devotion. That's what their last Valentine's days embodied which took a form of a shared dinner over a movie and cuddling on the couch while in sweatpants. And it was as good as during the early years of their relationship when they had decided to meet in a hotel under fake names, romance each other all over again, and spent a wild night together.

"Are you complaining?" Tony asked, pressing himself to his husband and grabbing by the collar, pulling him down. "Because if you are, I am not above spanking you to put you back in order, soldier," Tony purred out, their lips brushing together.

"No, sir," Steve denied with a smile, moving his face to match Tony's, lips getting closer and closer. "And I gotta say, you clean up rather nicely," Steve said, meaning that it has been a while since Tony wore a suit, not for a formal event, not for a public speaking, but just for his husband.

"Wish I could say the same about you, but there is an awfully lot of clothes on you for me to be sure," Tony breathed out. Steve wouldn't call a t-shirt and jeans a lot of clothes, but the message was well received. Their lips finally met, slow and passionate, and they stumbled together, falling on the, of course, rose petals covered bed, making them fly everywhere. Greedy fingers went into motion, peeling clothes of each other, lips wanting more and more -

"ACHEW!" Steve turned his head away, blocking his mouth with his hand.

"Uh," Tony blinked, his tie and dress shirt halfway off, "bless you."

"Thanks, babe," Steve rubbed his nose, trying to cease the tingly feeling. "Where did we stop?"

"Hmm, somewhere here," Tony smiled charmingly, pointing with a finger to his neck. Steve leaned down eagerly, ready to suckle and kiss the offered skin, when the irritating feeling came back and he straightened up abruptly, sneezing again.

"Steve? What's wrong?" Tony asked, lifting on his elbows and sounding alarmed. It wasn't like Steve to get sick all out of sudden.

"Nothing, it's nothing - " Steve tried to brush it off, but another sneeze happened. And then another one. And then he felt his throat becoming tight and eyes water and all of this was oddly familiar and disturbing.

"Oh my God, get out!" Tony panicked, not liking what he was seeing, and easily identified as an allergy attack. Roses? The scented candles? The new silk sheets in red color sprayed with essentials oils? There were too many variables and there was no time to analyze them all before Steve's head would swell like a tomato.

"Dohny, I'm fined -"

"You are not fine!" Tony decided, batting Steve off of him and pushing out of the bedroom, "Claritin is the kitchen cupboard, take it!" he ordered in a firm voice which was a total contrast to the half-naked torso and loose tie. Before Steve could react, Tony slammed the door shut, needing to air the room out first.

Well, that killed the mood quickly.

One cleaning and few pills of Claritin later, they ended on the couch, Steve's head settled on Tony's lap, as he still felt a bit fuzzy. Tony put some movie on, but Steve didn't pay attention, going over what just happened.

"Ugh, this sucks," Steve said in dismay, sniffling, the stuffiness in his nose not going away yet.

"The movie? I can change it," Tony said, gently playing with Steve's hair.

"No, not that -" Steve lifted himself to look better at his husband. Tony's gaze followed him and there was some surprise in his eyes, as Steve looked irritated. Irritated with himself. "You wanted to do something nice and I feel like I ruined it."

"Define 'nice'," Tony grinned, using air quotes at the second word, showing that while it was supposed to be nice, at first, he got carried away and crammed as much Valentine's day gadgets as he could fit in their bedroom just because he could, which pretty much caused his husband to suffocate, literally. Steve didn't reply, just jutted his bottom lip forward, feeling that he ruined the day. "Hey, don't make that face," Tony said softly, framing his husband's face with both hands, thumbs brushing below the jawline tenderly. "I can always reuse that stuff next year," he grinned, trying to fix the mood.

"Sure, just this year, we ended in the same spot, as last year," Steve sighed.

"It is a good spot. Comfy," Tony replied, rubbing Steve's cheeks playfully before letting go. He patted his lap back, urging Steve to lay down again. Steve's eyes followed the movement, and then he slid his gaze up, all over the expensive suit and white shirt with undone top buttons, no sight of the tie, his gaze heating up. Such a waste. It all could very well lead in one direction if it wasn't for a question burning in the back of his head.

"Do you think the serum is wearing off?" Steve asked, words running together.

"Pshhh. What?" Tony snorted in humor, but his face changed when he saw how alarmed Steve looked. "I don't know. I don't think so? But we don't exactly have anyone else to compare, you're one of a kind," Tony smiled kinder.

"I shouldn't have any allergies. I remember having allergies, but it all stopped since I took the serum and - " Steve rambled, spiraling into something bad. If his allergies came back, who knew what would come next. And when. And that really scared him.

"Hey, shhh," Tony took Steve's hand and squeezed it, trying to get him back. When their eyes met, Steve's blue ones showed a lot of uncertainty, while Tony's brown ones were calm. "I understand you are worried, but it was one thing, Steve. One thing that was easily fixed with some pills for allergies."

"What if it is not one thing?" Steve asked in a sad whisper.

"Then it will be more things and I will love you just as much I love you now," Tony assured, bringing Steve's hand closer and kissing his knuckles. That made Steve smile. "You still love me too, even if I changed, right?" Tony asked, meaning the flow of time and what it was doing to him. His hair became a bit more grey, eyes were set deeper and more often there was some sort of pain in his bones, one he didn't remember having. It was all part of life and couldn't exactly be stopped.

"You're always beautiful to me," Steve said honestly, meaning every word. He was seeing the same Tony was, but in contrary to Tony, Steve appreciated every change. It made Tony real and tangible and warm, and Steve didn't want a frozen perfection, almost unnatural. The day Steve had found his first grey hair among blonde ones, they both had celebrated, Steve maybe a bit more than Tony, relieved that even if it happened slower, he was aging. He didn't want to live forever and he certainly didn't want to live without Tony and it gave him hope that he won't have to. Just losing the serum was a different story. A one that had danger written all over it.

"That's sweet," Tony smiled, "and you will be always handsome to me, even when you sneeze your lungs out and get teary-eyed," Tony joked, meaning the allergies attack.

"Ha-ha," Steve fake laughed, causing Tony to laugh back, just real and honest. Beautiful. "No need to rub in my face that I ruined our Valentine's day."

"And night. I don't think it is safe to go to the bedroom yet," Tony pointed out, not wanting to risk another attack.

"Right," Steve sighed. Sleeping on the couch was not an option, but maybe they could use one of the guest floors in the Tower. Still, the mood was gone. Seemed that it wasn't a day for romance after all. Tony didn't like Steve blaming himself over something so silly and decided to fix the mood.

"Friday, dim the lights, cue some music," he said, and when the first notes of a soothing melody started to seep in, the lights got softer, Tony stood up and spoke again, offering Steve a hand. "May I have this dance?"

Steve chuckled softly, looking at his husband's calm and smiling face. Tony had this almost magical ability to fix things for Steve. After all, his husband was a mechanic, building and fixing was his thing and it went further than machines.

"You know I will step on your feet, right?" Steve asked teasingly, accepting the hand, and stood up.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Tony kept smiling, putting his arm around Steve's shoulders, Steve drawing his husband close and holding him by the hip. Pressed together, gently swaying to the music, they celebrated Valentine's day just as they liked - intimately and close.

[skellebonez]

Smoke, Flasks, and Unfinished Tasks: Chapter 7

AO3 Link!

Chapter 1 Link!, Chapter 2 Link!, Chapter 3 Link!, Chapter 4 Link!, Chapter 5 Link! Chapter 6 Link!

Summary: We return to the world outside the Calabash and someone regrets their life choices.

Warnings: Mild accidental self inflicted violence, after effects of the smoke from the last chapter.

Author’s note: A bit shorter than I intended since I was unhappy with how the additions to this chapter flowed and I rewrote them entirely, there are no spoilers for the special (I had removed or edited them into something unrelated) but there will be some allusions to it in the coming chapters.

Chapter 7: Real Feeling Illusion

Mei let out a yell of surprise as she felt cold metal settle into her hands, something that should be familiar but felt brand new despite that.

Her eyes snapped open to green, green and more green, every shade surrounding her as she stared into the gazes of her ancestors. The same judgemental gazes that she had already faced once before.

"Wh-what?"

The only thing that answered her were the glowers and whispers of the dragons above her, sneering, chastising, questioning.

“This has already happened... I’ve already done this...”

----------

"Monkey King!?"

Red Son gasped, eyes opening to a sight he wished to never see again.

"Come to take me? Find me?"

His breathing quickened, shaking his head as he took a step back.

"I will not let that simian abomination triumph again!"

This couldn't be happening again, it had to be a trick of the Calabash. Red Son had to believe it was as he watched his father scream over the screens showing MK and his friends coming closer and heard the whispers of the White Bone Spirit on the wind.

----------

"Hey, kid? You paying attention?"

The voice calling him made MK's blood run cold as his eyes snapped open, a far too familiar derelict dojo greeting his vision. And one very familiar, amused, dark furred monkey.

"No..." MK breathed quietly, holding his staff tighter. "No no, this isn't possible. It can't do this can it?"

"What's wrong?" Macaque asked, spinning a training staff in his hand with an easy friendly smile, practiced he now knew. Practiced to trick him, trap him, get what he wants out of him. It went softer, faker, kinder, and it hurt. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

----------

The air within the Bull Family's current abode was tense, Wukong's words weighing it down heavily. No one dared do more than breathe until the Demon Bull King or Princess Iron Fan reacted first.

While Iron Fan's face had fallen into disbelief and some form of concern, DBK's face was nearly unreadable. Eyes closed, arms crossed, the most emotion showing was the faintest furrowing of his brow.

"Darling?" PIF said softly, running her hand down his face in a soft display of affection that felt odd to watch for the group on the ground.

"I will assist you," DBK offered suddenly, turning to his wife with a soft rumble. "What wi-"

"I am helping," she answered instantaneously, features hardening as she turned back toward Wukong and the rest of the group.

"I should have assumed as much," DBK chuckled out, smiling softly for a split second before his features hardened once again. "I know my son, if you cannot find him then he is either hiding himself and his-" he growled deeply, spitting out the next word like poison. "-friends on purpose, which I doubt he could do for long with you searching of all people, or someone has made the mistake of angering the wrong family."

"Unfortunately we have no reason to assume it is anything but the later now," Wukong said, tone noticeably more relaxed but still more even and businesslike than normal. "This is what we know so far..."

Pigsy breathed out a sigh of relief, albeit the smallest possible any living being could manage, as Wukong began to explain to Red Son's parents in great detail exactly what they had done and what they had learned so far. There was something... off about it, however.

DBK was too calm. Almost... solemnly so. Now, normally he wouldn't be surprised if Iron Fan had been around to keep him calm, but she was hardly doing anything but sitting on his shoulder and talking to him in a hushed voice. Pigsy didn't know him all that well but every single time he had interacted with him, and from some stories from Wukong's younger days, he had always had a temper that put Red Son's fiery one to shame.

"Pigsy?" Tang said softly, laying a hand on his shoulder for a moment before frowning and squeezing it gently. "What's on your mind?"

"Somethin' ain't right here," he said with a shake of his head. "Somethin' really ain't right. Wukong can tell too, look at his tail. It's all puffed up on the back. Those two are hiding somethin' from us.” He turned to Sandy, who silently nodded in agreement.

Tang hummed softly, his grip on the pig demon’s shoulder tightening past gentle reassurance to a grounding firmness. “I trust your judgement, Pigsy. Let’s hope we can trust Wukong’s too, ok?”

Pigsy nodded himself, reaching up to grasp the scholar’s hand in a firm grip as they watched on from the sidelines still, waiting for anything to happen now. They didn’t have to wait too much longer before a gust of wind rushed past them and lifted PIF of her husband’s shoulder, setting her on the ground to the side of the two men.

“I will see what I can do with the equipment Red Son has left behind,” she said firmly, standing tall and looking all the more like a leader to an army than anything else at the moment. “While the Bull Clones will not likely be of any help, he left enough that should at least prove somewhat useful for a more delicate mission.” She frowned for a moment, looking up at her husband. “And... tell them. It might help.”

DBK startled, looking down at his wife with wide eyes. Now that was a look Pigsy had never seen on his face before. “Are you sure?”

“You and I both know that is the sole reason we need to find our son,” she said, frown deepening for just a moment before she wiped all expression from her face and allowed the wind to carry her off deeper into their hideout.

Now everyone was just confused, looking at the hulking demon lord as he scowled and ran a hand down his face. He turned to look at the group, taking them all in before focusing on Wukong again with a growl deep in his throat. “I had hoped we could convince him to return of his own accord and you would not find out about this,” he said with a deeper growl, scowling down at the Monkey King before sighing and seeming to relax ever so slightly. “But now... it has been so long I am doubting that is even possible now.”

“What are you talking about?” Wukong asked with a raised brow, fur bristling more noticeable as he tensed. “We knew you had been trying to get him to come back to your side.”

“Do you know why he left?” DBK continued, scowling even deeper than before. “Did you ever wonder why he chose to go to you?”

“...No,” Wukong admitted after a while, dropping his arms down to his sides. “I wanted to say that yeah we did, and no that doesn’t matter, but he’s never exactly been open about what made him come to Flower Fruit Mountain that day. Why?” He narrowed his gaze, watching the larger demon closely. “Wait... wait, you don’t mean-”

“Oh yes,” DBK said flatly, the sound of his teeth gritting together reverberating through the room and making everyone wince. “Ever since the Lunar New Year festival, Wukong. And it backfired spectacularly.”

----------

“Let!” Thunk. “Me!” Thunk, a cough. “OUT!” Thunk. “AGH!” Crack. “FUCK!”

Jin let out a screech of pain as he felt something in his hand give way, a knuckle or maybe a full finger bone. It didn’t matter either way, in only a few seconds it had fixed itself just as painfully as it had broken and left him with a fully intact hand for the third time.

“You’re one sick fox lady, you know that?” He yelled into the air, scowling even more as he changed tactics to attempting to kick himself out of containment. Trapped in what appeared to be the same little room he had left Yin in when he last saw him.

He may have the appearance of the Monkey King at the moment, and it may have given him access to some of his powers because of that, but physically he knew he was still Jin. The Gold Horned Demon. Not Sun Wukong, The Handsome Monkey King and The Great Sage Equal to Heaven. The Calabash itself knew this, could only go so far in the illusion, and not having breakable bones was apparently outside of the abilities of his and his brother’s device. Though he knew he was not actually being hurt, physically, everything that happened here was an illusion.

A very real feeling illusion. Unlike... unlike what could be happening to Yin...

At the thoughts of his brother in possible peril, Jin sighed, stopping his assault on the door to sit down on the makeshift cot they had been relegated to. He felt his tail (still a new and odd sensation to know he had one that moved of its own accord) drop down beside him, looking as deflated as he felt.

What if Princess Jade Face was hurting Yin? What if she had already hurt him? Was she using the new smoke on him as well or the sleeping smoke? His mind rushed through thought after thought of what she could do to hurt his brother while he wasn’t there to protect him... not that he had been doing a good job of it in the first place, all this being his fault in the first place.

He coughed again, throat aching from the after effects on whatever the new smoke was. His eyes burned and his head swam in lightheaded weightlessness. He wondered if it was supposed to hurt like this or if it was the combination of smokes, wondered if the trio trapped alongside him was feeling this or none or even worse. He wondered if they were safe.

“Safe?” He asked himself with a scowl. “Don’t tell me you’re actually giving a damn about those three outside of surviving yourself, me.”

He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to wonder what that meant. The only people he worried about were his brother first and then himself. And he would get the hell out of here, broken hands or legs or not.

[isozyme]

just listened to "something to do w my hands" and WOW YEAH the savior complex & the need to support someone but a lil bit in a selfish way bc then that makes himself a good person... also YES idk why i haven't seen this yet but he's actually extremely smug & judgemental if you watch the corner of his mouth in cql it's VERY funny. would love your thoughts on why you think he doesn't ever put himself together again/come out of seclusion? have seen args either way & i think it comes down to jgy!

yessss you understand lxc!!!! the way his relationship with jgy is about lxc’s hunger to be needed, to be special, to be the only one who can see who jgy really is, to be better and kinder and more fair than everyone else, oof, it’s so good. i am hype to share my opinions on why lxc is irreparably broken at the end of the series.

to start, importantly: i basically take lxc/jgy as canon. i don’t think the plot makes sense without it. they are fucking, they love each other, they’ve both fucked around with nmj and that shit is fraught. you can’t convince me otherwise and all of my meta assumes this is fact.

i think lxc knew that jgy's hands were dirty, and almost certainly suspected that jgs’s death was jgy’s doing. i don’t think he knew about nmj, or how gross jgs’s death was, the incest stuff, etc. i think he saw enough to know that jgy probably killed his dad, went “you know what, that’s fair, i can forgive him for that” and decided that if he didn’t dig any deeper he wouldn’t have to know for certain and he wouldn’t be forced to do anything about it. lxc averting his eyes so he didn’t have to confront jgy doing a couple murders led to some...uh...bad stuff happening.

so that’s guilt #1.

then there’s guilt #2: he killed jgy. he got tricked into being a weapon and he put a sword through jgy’s chest.

guilt #3: he still loved jgy, even though jgy was an objectively vile person. he grieves jgy and he feels guilty for grieving and it fucks him up!

when it comes to lxc and guilt, you gotta take into account that this man has been told his entire life that he’s the most talented person in the five clans. he’s the first jade. he’s peerless. lxc strives for perfection and is pretty sure he’s basically nailed it, which means he believes fundamentally that if a thing is possible, he is capable of doing it. are we seeing where this is going? yeah. lxc thinks he could have stopped all of this. if he’d looked closer. if he’d been less selfish. it’s all on him. it’s his fault.

building on the “lxc has put his own damn self on a pedestal,” issue, now that he’s fucked up so spectacularly, all that certainty that he’s a perfect person is torn to shreds. he can no longer trust himself to make any good decisions. a huge part of his self-concept was a lie all along. he was not good. he was not fair. who the fuck is lan xichen if he’s not the cultivation world’s shining beacon?

in guanyin temple he shuts his eyes, drops his hand, and decides he doesn’t care how he dies, because he’s fucked up so bad. all the fight goes out of him. i don’t think he’s ever going to heal entirely from that moment.

oh also he’s really really angry and is absolutely not going to acknowledge that or deal with it, because lxc doesn’t do angry. (that’s the cost of having perfect control of your temper.) he’s furious that this happened to him and he was massively betrayed and that nhs used him and that his brother chose right when he chose wrong. so that’s fucking him up on top of the guilt and the grief.

basically that’s why i think lxc is permanently damaged by the end of cql. he’s never ever going to go back to being the first jade, zewu-jun, lan-zongzhu. that identity has been thoroughly destroyed. with time he might recover enough to be a functional member of the clan, but he’s always going to be fragile.

as for the seclusion question! i’d totally believe it if lxc walked into seclusion and never came out. that seems in character to me. with the right coaxing, he might come out again. absolutely not before at least 5 years have passed. likely longer. when he goes into seclusion i certainly don’t think he’s planning to ever return. 

it really hinges on lz, who’s the only one with a chance of drawing lxc back out into the world. lz is stubborn enough to do it! eventually, even lxc would be worn down by “my beloved little brother, who i basically raised from a child, kneels outside my door for eight hours on the first day of every month, the same way he did outside our mother’s house after she died, and i can’t stop remembering scooping up his cold little body out of the snow where he’d fallen asleep waiting, again, for someone who’s never going to emerge, watching him kneeling bravely during lessons the next day even though his knees were so, so bruised, and i’m repeating every single mistake our parents made only worse because i know exactly how much it’s hurting lz because i’ve watched it before.” 

i personally headcanon that a decade or so after guanyin temple, lxc shows up unexpectedly at lz’s shoulder at a cultivation conference. he’s got the exact same smile and makes the same polite conversation, because those things weren’t ever particularly connected to his actual emotions. but he’s thinner, and he holds himself like a porcelain statue, one missed step away from shattering. if he thinks nobody is looking at him, the smile stays on but his face doesn’t move, like there’s just nothing there underneath the polite expression because he’s not putting any effort into animating it. it’s unsettling as fuck!! he’s useful, efficient, great at killing evil things, he eats, he drinks tea, but you can tell his tether to the physical world is tenuous at best.

after guanyin temple, lxc never weighs in on a single important political decision ever again.

ONE THOUSAND WORDS LATER, that’s why i think lxc’s not gonna just bounce back from this one!

[bhaalspawntaven]

Ok so it’s 7am and I haven’t slept and all I know is I am A SUCKER for modern aus and specifically hs aus so here we are. A shitty post with my hs au headcanons... Note this is based on my experience in the Scottish hs system so if that’s why it seems weird then yeah (I think it’d be based in the uk bcs none of them are from there so it’s like... even u know? Idk + bias because I live here it’s just easier for me ANYWAYS) They’re all meant to be around like 18 here and I’ll give them like 4 or 5 classes I think they’d have and just some other stuff! Sorry some are longer than others (can u tell i love Tank and Nik? ;^^)

Starting with big boy Tank I suppose...

Would definetly say he’s in PE and History, PE because dude definetly loves his sports and I can see him really liking history! Other than that I think he’d be in like computing purely because Nik took it and he wants to be with his friend and hmm maybe one of the sciences? Or if there was a debate class he’d fuckinf love that shit anything he can be loud

His real name is Thomas but he got the nickname Tank for being buff as shit and his playing in sports! I was thinking rugby would be a big one for him, same with football/soccer!

He seem’s like a stereotypical jock but he’s a huge softie and a sweetheart to his friends and would never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. He doesn’t mind getting some action and is kinda popular with the girls but he would never like cheat on anyone because he’s not a fuckin asshole

Probably got banned from taking English again for his last year because him and Nik were in the same class and did not take anything seriously and just caused pure havoc. He enjoyed it purely for that and hated the subject itself.

Onto Nik!

He actually mostly keeps to himself and his group of friends- he probably got teased before for his accent and being quite standoffish so he mostly kept to himself. Him and Tank moved in the same year so they bonded over being the new kids and became really good friends

Good at maths but awful at english, so he takes the former and dropped the latter as soon as he could. Also really likes computing who Tank took just so they could be together for more classes, and he just lets Tank copy his work. Also let Tank copy his homework when they were younger because the others wouldn’t let him.

Takes art too! Likes getting some time to himself to draw and is really chill with all the art teachers. He doesn’t have much time outside of school for hobbies so he crams some of that into art class too.

Also takes PE mostly because he needed something else and wanted to chose something Tank was in so PE it was! He doesn’t really care too much for it but will sometimes get a little competitive.

Probably has snuck in vodka in a water bottle in more than one occasion.

Samantha!

Probably the therapist of the group and her along with Takeo are really the only ones that have their shit together.

Takes Psycology, English, Music (she plays the violin!) and Physics! Her and Ed work together on their physics work and all that! She’ll sometimes goof around a little in class but is still a good student and works really hard.

She’s really good at reading her friends. Uncannily good. It gets annoying sometimes but everyone knows she just wants to help them

Is Ed’s big sister (both in height and age) and also becomes a big sister to Nik, who is disconnected from his family. Will definetly fight anyone that hurts her friends, like no questions asked would break someone’s leg if they dared touch any of her little brothers.

Always studies super hard for exams and wants to do her best so she can get into a good uni for psycology- she wants to become a therapist when she’s older.

Takeo!!

Probably takes Home Ec, Maths, English and psycology! He’s an amazing cook and is the only one of them that knows how to make proper meals that aren’t like grilled cheese or pasta. He isn’t too sure what he wants to do job wise yet but he thinks it’ll be something related to that!

Generally a really hard worker and his teachers think he is an Angel. Very rarely gets into trouble unless he’s roped into it by one or more of his dumb friends (mainly Tank and/or Nik doing some stupid shit)

Scolds Nik for letting Tank copy his homework because ‘he’ll never learn’ but he knows that neither of them care so he has given up with his attempts to actually help either of them with their work

Actually quite popular! He’s on good terms with a lot of people because of his kind nature is people generally like him.

And lastly Ed!

I think he would take physics, biology, chemistry and maths! He’s super smart and used to get teased for it but now that he’s older and in higher level classes people are much kinder too him. He’ll offer help to anyone that asks and isn’t rude to him.

Also studies really hard- he wants to become a doctor and he knows there’s a lot of work involved but he is getting there! Really close with Sam and those two help eachother with anything they can.

Probably has some soft of beef with Nik, and they come close to brawling it out fairly regularly. Everyone else has given up on trying to sort out their beef.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Hayloft - Part 1

Series Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: A young girl finds a soldier hiding in the hayloft on her father’s farm. Intrigued, she visits him more and more until her father finds out and puts him to work. As they grow closer, something else grows too.

Pairing: James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes x OC Jenny Richelle “Ricky” Hill

Warning: Strong language, inaccurate war description

Author’s note: Based on the song Hayloft by Mother Mother and the lovestory of my grandparents. I am Dutch and the war was a bit different here, so I will be basing this on the stories I’ve heard about my grandparents.

Word count: 2624

‘Alpine, what are you playing at,‘ the woman laughs as she sees the cat trying to bury itself with him, ‘come on, I got some scraps left for you.‘ The cat doesn’t list to her. The girl sighs and climbs onto the hayloft, letting herself fall onto the hay just inches from where he’s laying. He feels his heart beating faster and faster.

‘What are you doing,‘ she laughs while he tries to hold his breath and stay motionless. Nerves rush through his body as he realizes there is nowhere else to go. That, or he has to throw this girl off the hayloft. There are a thousand scenarios running in his head, but it’s either the end of him or the end of the girl. He’s going to have to go on the run again. How will he keep her quiet? Can he even keep her quiet? There’s a whole family in the house. Alarm bells go off everywhere in his mind, but he’s frozen in shock. ‘What do you have there?‘ He feels the cat has gotten his shirt in its mouth and it pulling on it. Next he hears is a gasp and a poking at his back. The poking is so gentle. Almost like she’s teasing him. ‘Are you dead or hiding?‘ Her gentle, unbothered voice surprises him. He gets up carefully, wiping the hay off his face. She chuckles at the sight of him and brushes a few strands of hay off his shoulder. ‘Hiding, I’m sorry,‘ he manages to mutter while continuing to study the face of the girl for any signs of fear or anger. But she looks just fine, not even slightly scared of having a strange man in the hayloft. ‘You chose the wrong town to hide,‘ the girl tells him while the cat snuggles up on his lap again, ‘they just hung your picture in the post office today. James Barnes right?‘ He nods. ‘I’m Jenny Hill, nice to meet you James.‘ ‘Are you going to turn me in Jenny,‘ he asks, despair written everywhere where the fear is less visible. He looks like he’s trembling. Jenny looks him up and down. He looks much more rugged than his picture. James has stubble and much longer hair than he has in the clean picture in the post office. She could barely tell it was him if her gaze hadn’t lingered on his picture a little longer than it should have. ‘No,‘ she tells him, ‘but you can’t stay here for nothing. People will get suspicious. I’ll ask my father if we can take in another.‘ She walks back over to the ladder. ‘Another?‘ She looks back at him with a smile and he takes a second to take her in. Bright blue eyes, light-brown waves brushing her shoulders, heart-shaped lips, a button nose, and straight eyebrows. She looks mellow, gentle, but there’s this glimmer in her eyes. There’s something mischievous about her. ‘Yeah, you don’t think you’re the only runner right?‘ The girl leaves him on the hayloft with Alpine while he tries to gather his thoughts. This just might be the best case scenario, if she isn’t just playing it up. ‘Oi, stowaway!‘ A low, male voice startles James. He peeks over the edge of the hayloft and sees an older man standing at the bottom. ‘What’s your deal? Why are you running?‘ ‘I’m my mother’s only son, she asked me to stay out of the army,‘ James explains. ‘Family man,‘ the man grumbles and nods, ‘fine, come down. We got some food left.‘ He climbs down the ladder and gets a pat on the shoulder, as well as a strong handshake from the man. He’s welcomed with open arms by a man he doesn’t know in the most uncertain time. He could be a spy, he could be a soldier, he could rat on them, but they just open up to him. ‘I’m Oliver Hill, you met my daughter Jenny,‘ he gestures at the girl standing in the doorway of the farmhouse while the other children walk in, ‘youngest son is called Nathan, that’s Wesley, and this is Penny. My wife’s name is Juliette, but you will address her as misses Hill.‘ ‘Of course sir,‘ James nods, ‘I’m James Barnes.‘ ‘Let me get you to the shed so you can mee the others,‘ Oliver grumbles, ‘Jenny, set the table for the lads.‘ ‘Yes father,‘ Jenny winks at James with this most enchanting smile on her lips. If there would be something like love at first sight, James had just experienced it but he can’t forget that his feelings might be corrupted because she helped him. These are uncertain times. Feelings can be strange. Oliver opens the shed. Inside James sees two bunk beds that seem to have been hand made, a table in the corner of the room with three chairs, and a crate with books in it. It’s not much, but it’s enough. ‘Boys, this is James Barnes. He’ll be helping us out,‘ Oliver calls into the shed.  One of the two guys inside jumps of the top bunk and shakes James’ hand with a big smile. ‘Johnny Meadow, nice to meet you,‘ he says, ‘this is Timothy Leads. He doesn’t talk much.‘ ‘That’s alright,‘ James nods, ‘nice to meet you two.‘ ‘You’ve found the right spot James,‘ Johnny grins, ‘there aren’t many with such a good heart as mister Hill.‘ ‘Flattery will get you nowhere boy,‘ mister hill grumbles, ‘you better watch it or I’ll get the boys to wake you for a week.‘ ‘I was just joking sir,‘ Johnny chuckles, ‘but I don’t think our new lad will be ok if you do. He looks a little jumpy. You ok James?‘ ‘Yeah, yeah, just been through it the past days,‘ James tries to brush it off like it’s nothing, but both boys can tell something’s up with him. There’s something up with all of them. Running away from everything makes everyone jumpy. ‘Oi, stable boys,‘ Jenny calls with a cheeky grin on her face, ‘dinner’s ready.‘ The two almost dash past James and Oliver. Oliver puts his hand on James’ shoulder. ‘Listen boy, you can’t stay here for nothing,‘ he tells him, ‘these boys work for me in exchange for food and shelter. That’s what I expect from you as well. I don’t need you to talk or tell us your whole life story. All I ask is that you keep your head down and hide when I tell you to, alright?‘ ‘Yes sir.‘ ‘James,‘ he looks up at the sound of his voice and sees Jenny waving at him, ‘you better get in here before the others eat it all.‘ Oliver chuckles. ‘You better get in there boy. Oh, if you have anyone you need to contact, Jenny works at the post office. She can sneak some letters past,‘ Oliver grumbles at the boy and walks with him into the house.

James almost jumps out of his skin at the sound of knocking on the door of the shed. He can barely keep himself from falling out the bed. The door opens, letting in the sunlight and the other boys groan. ‘Good morning gents,‘ Jenny says cheerfully and puts half a loaf of bread, half a stick of butter, six slices of cheese, and a bottle of milk on the table along with a knife to slice the bread and a butter-knife to spread the butter. ‘Morning miss Hill, did you sleep well,‘ Timothy asks her while he rubs her eyes. ‘Slept wonderfully, you guys do okay?‘ ‘We did alright,‘ Johnny smiles at her, ‘what’cha got there?‘ ‘Some clothes for James,‘ she hums and puts them down by his feet, ‘drop your dirty clothes in the hamper by the back door. Mother will give them a wash.‘ ‘Thank you so, so much,‘ James lulls, ‘you have been way too kind.‘ ‘Nonsense,‘ Jenny huffs, ‘we should all be a little kinder to each other, especially now. Oh, and I traded some books with my coworker, Michelle. So I got some new things for you to read. No terrible romance novels this time. I’ll drop them off in the afternoon.‘ ‘Thank you so much Jenny,‘ Timothy mumbles, still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. ‘Now get up you lazy bastards,‘ she laughs, ‘my father will have you if you’re not ready by six.‘ She pats down the wrinkles in her blouse and makes sure her skirt is on straight while she’s almost making her leave. ‘Gosh, when’d you get so stuck-up,‘ Johnny chuckles and sits up on his bed, ‘you were much nicer in high school.‘ She winks at him as she buttons her waistcoat and leaves, closing the door behind her. James yawns and stretches. ‘You went to school with her,‘ he asks Johnny, ‘how old are you now?‘ ‘21,‘ he sighs, ‘Timothy just turned 18. How about you?‘ He pulls his shirt over his head while he talks. ‘23.‘ James reaches for the shirt Jenny brought him. ‘Did she do this for both of you?‘ Timothy and Johnny share a look. Timothy nods. ’Yeah, they have some clothes for guys around our age,’ he mutters. Johnny rubs his head for a second as he sees James face contort into a question mark. He sighs, knowing he’ll have to explain. ‘Look, we didn’t tell you this but this family already lost people. They know the hurt and they don’t want others to suffer it, so they help wherever they can even if it puts them all in danger,‘ Johnny explains, ‘so no more questions. Just work and keep your head down.’

Jenny walks into work and looks at the cork board. There are two pictures gone. A gasp leaves her mouth. Michelle just comes walking from the back with two cups of coffee. ‘Ah Jenny, good morning doll,‘ she smiles and hands her a cup. ‘Morning Michelle,‘ she forces a smile, ‘say, weren’t there two others on the board?‘ ‘Oh yes, they took off two this morning.‘ ‘What does that mean?‘ ‘From what they told me, it could mean one of three things,‘ Michelle sums up, ‘they could either be found, spotted, or dead.‘ Jenny’s eyes fall on the pictures of Johnny, James, and Timothy. They’re still there. At least that means they haven’t been spotted. Yet. ‘What a shame,‘ she hums and walks behind her desk, ‘all these young men laid to rest.‘ ‘It’s a shame. Builds character though,‘ Michelle shrugs like she doesn’t care at all. But just because she got out of it well, doesn’t mean others want to lose their lovers, their brothers, their sons. ‘Michelle, you can’t say that,‘ Jenny snaps at her, ‘they’re sending those poor boys to die.‘ ‘Not all of them are the same as Casper,‘ she argues, ‘some are trained.‘ ‘Casper was trained.‘ Jenny looks close to rage as Michelle realizes what she just implied. No, it’s not a good look to insult someone’s dead brother. Not a good look indeed. ‘Okay, enough of this, I have your route dotted out in the back. Get to work.‘ Oh if looks could kill.

James, Johnny, and Timothy sit under a tree by the farmhouse in the cool grass, picking at it, sharing a cigarette, and chatting away. The watch Jenny arrive back with a frown on her face. They see how she throws her bike to the side with teary eyes and stomps inside. ‘What’s up with her,‘ James asks the other two. ‘Probably her coworker. From what I’ve heard the bitch can be quite insensitive,‘ Johnny laughs. James can’t really find it in himself to laugh along. Seems to him Jenny has a tough time as well. A few minutes pass and the door opens again. Jenny walks over to them, picking the cigarette from James’ fingers and taking a deep drag while plopping down in the grass with them. She keeps the thing in her mouth and smokes it faster than a dragon. ‘Something tells me you’ve done that before,‘ James laughs as he picks the near finished cigarette from het lips, takes the last drag, and puts it out on an ashtray that mister Hill gave them along with the cigarettes. ‘Fuck you,‘ she mumbles, pulling her knees up to her chest. ‘Oh come on doll, don’t be like that,‘ Johnny chuckles, giving her a new cigarette. She sticks it between her lips and Timothy lights it for her with the zippo she gave him at one point. ‘Call me doll one more time and I will cut your tongue clean out your mouth,‘ she mumbles, chin pressed against her knees as she wraps her arms around them. Occassionally letting one arm loose to take a drag from het cigarette. ‘Bad day,‘ Timothy asks with a nervous smile. ‘Michelle is such a bi-‘ ‘Language,‘ Johnny tells her with a smirk. ‘Suck my dick,‘ she tells him, ‘Michelle was saying the war builds character and implied that Casper died because he wasn’t trained. He was a goddamn sniper for fucks sake!‘ ‘I’m sorry, who’s Casper,‘ James asks, gaining a furious glare from Jenny, ‘if you don’t mind me asking.‘ ‘I do mind,‘ she hums, ‘but he’s my brother. He had just turned twenty when they took him away. Only took a few months before we got the letter.‘ ‘I’m sorry to hear,‘ he lets his head hang a little, trying to see if she’s angry at him from his hunched position. She takes a drag and pushes a small smile on her face. ‘It’s fine. You didn’t know.‘ She passes the cigarette to Timothy, who quickly passes it to Johnny with a disgusted look on his face. ‘Good, well, I left the books in the house. You can take them with you after dinner.‘ ‘You’re not joining us for dinner,‘ Johnny asks. ‘I am, but wouldn’t it be blasphomy to let a poor weak maiden carry all those heavy books herself when there’s three strong men in the house,‘ she puts on theatrics while she says it. James can’t help but smile at her performance. Talking to them clearly cheered her up a bit.  ‘No, but I’m going to have to scrub my mouth so dad doesn’t find out I smoked. I’ll see you guys in a minute.‘ She jogs off into the house. James watches her go with stars in his eyes. ‘She always like this?‘ ‘Much, much worse,‘ Johnny laughs, seeing the amazed look on the man’s face, ‘my man, you have it bad.‘ ‘What?‘ Johnny continues to laugh and gets up from his place, patting James on the shoulder before walking back to the shed with the cigarette and the ashtray. ‘Did I do something?‘ James looks at Timothy, but he just shrugs.

After dinner, Jenny sits down in the same spot behind the farmhouse with a book. While the other boys are playing cards, James decided to look for that same spot with a book of his own. He shoots her a recognizing smile and sits down with her in silence. They read for a minute before the need to say anything becomes too much to James. ‘You alright doll?‘ ‘I thought I made it clear I don’t want to be called doll,‘ she remarks, keeping her eyes on her book. ‘I’m sorry, how may I call you miss,‘ he asks properly. ‘Just call me Jenny.‘ ‘What are you reading Jenny?‘ ‘What’s it to you James?‘ ‘Just curious, that’s all.‘ He watches as a smile starts tugging on the corners of her lips. She tries to suppress it, but the sparkle in her eyes is clear as day. ‘Of sons and lovers,‘ she hums, showing him the front, ‘do you know it?‘ ‘Heard of it, haven’t had the chance to read it,‘ he answers, ‘will you read it to me?‘

[yandere-romanticaa]

Ren Kouha.

yandere! alphabet

Because there needs to be more Magi content.

A - Attribute: What brought on this side of them? What made them click?

It was most likely the sheer fascination he has with his darling. He wants to know literally everything about them, and thanks to his royal status he can do

B - Blood: If they're extreme how messy are they willing to get?

Very, very messy! Kouha isn't afraid of getting his hands dirty a single bit, but even then he does need to cover up his tracks. He'll happily slice and dice his poor victims like mere butter, and this will only make him more excited for his next kill, no matter how annoying his target may be.

C - Cope: Do they try to deal with this jelaousy sooner or later or do they lash out?

He is jelaous is passive in a way. Whenever he feels like someone is a bit too close to his darling, he will just sluggishly put an arm around their elwaist while playing it off like he doesn't care. In reality though, he is more then furious as his poor s/o is being crushed in his embrace, and there is nothing they can do to stop it.

D - Death: Do they feel any sorrow for their victims at all?

No, absolutely not, and why should he? He makes it crystal clear that s/o is his, and his only, and he therefore expects everyone to obey that. But not everyone listents to him and if they continue to pester or flirt with his little darling, things won't be so smooth for the other party involved...

E - Earnest: Are they intense?

It depends on his mood. On some days, he's calm and happy, dare I say normal. He is not lashing out, no one is hurt and this is the best Kouha can be. He is smiling, he is more then happy and he is just downright sweet to his love. But it can be easy to get a rise out of him, and there is no going back after that. He's sadistic and enjoys inflicting pain on his s/o which really can go out of hand if he is really mad.

F - Fight: How would they feel if you fought back against them?

He might enjoy it, believe it or not. Well, only at the beginning that is. Kouha adores the fire in his darling, he likes seeing them mad and angry, that is why he teases them so much in the first place! But he will expect total obedience from his s/o at some point. His little pet better learn to behave by then because things might just become messy othervise.

G - Game: How much do they enjoy watching you run and have a fearful expression?

Oh, he would love every second of it~! He loves the hunt, he loves the game, but most of all, he loves all of the adorable faces his darling makes, but one of his favorites is seeing them scared. Kouha just finds it so utterly irresisstible, he just can't help but yo hurt his s/o even more just because he loves that look so much!

H - Hell: What would be your worst experience with them?

Ah... Well, it would most likely be his first jelaous outburst. A male friend got a little too close for comfort and Kouha dragged his darling to his room. Everything that happened later is somewhat blurry, but s/o will never forget the sheer and raw pain they felt the entire time. It's a trauma that would be difficult to heal, and if s/o is smart enough, after that outburt they'll know betger then to disobey Kouha ever again.

I - Iron: How emotionally stable would you be throughout the events that unfold?

It all depends on the darlings will, but after a certain point they will crack. It is just difficult to live like this, having to please any and all of Kouha's whims...

J - Jet: How fast would it happen for them to go yandere?

It would take a while for someone to pique his interest, but once that is done, he will become a full blown yandere really damn fast. He has the power and money to immediatly take his darling and he will pull a few strings along if he deems it necessary.

K - Kill: Would they ever hurt anyone in order to get to you?

Oh you bet he will. No matter how well behaved his darling is, Kouha will most definetly leave a trail of blood behind him. This will most likely happen at the beginning of the relationship though because Kouha is unsure of who he can trust. After a few months though, the kill count will drop but under the condition that s/o obeys his every rule.

L - Lonely: How much loneliness would they feel if you two were apart?

He would be so lonely, and so dramatic about it too. He most likey won't see his s/o for several days straight, sometimes even months! That is just too much for him, and Kouha always becomes so needy at these times. He wants his little s/o back, and he wants them now-!!

M - Might: How agressive would they be towards you?

His mood swings can be so extreme, it can be hard to tell. One moment he is carresing s/o's hair, the next moment he is slapping them for dissobeying. It's a absolute whirlwind being with Kouha, and no one can predict his actions.

N - Next: Would they ever move on after you?

He would find that pretty difficult to do, nearly impossible almost. He has never felt like this before, and he doesn't want this love to go away! If his s/o died, poor Kouha would become so depressed, he won't be himself anymore...

O - Opression: How many rights would they take away from you?

It all depends on s/o's behaviour. Of course, he will take away their freedom but if they are good to him, Kouha is more then happy to reward them. If his s/o is more patiemt and sweet towards him, he'll be kinder. If they keep on persisting, Kouha will need to become even more strict.

P - Prize: Would they consider this a game?

Sort of. In a way, Kouha does see this as a game of cat and mouse but he can get serious when the time calls for it. Again, it all depends on his mood.

Q - Quality: Would they be secertive or flashy about what they do?

He is flashy is a subtle way. He is both proud to have his darling, but at the same time he does need to tone it down simply because of his imperial status. If the chance arrises, he will show off and brag about his s/o to others, but other then that he can be very low key.

R - Rain: Would they keep you inside forever?

He most likely would! Nothing makes him happier then coming back home for a long and tiresome battle then to run off to his sweet s/o who is waiting for him in his chambers! He might let his s/o out on special ocassions, but that's about it.

S - Stalker: Would they stalk you? How intense would it go?

He wouldn't really stalk his darling, and there are two main reasons for that. The first one is that he just doesn't have time for that and the second one is that he simply doesn't need to. He can always just tell his guards to not allow his s/o to leave the pallace grounds, or if they were extra naughty, he might even lock them up!

T - Turmoil: Would they force you to team up with them?

In combat? Never. In chosing what to eat for brekfast? Definetly! Cute, domestic things are Kouha's favorite things to do when it comes to his s/o, and he will be more then happy to let them chose what they will have for dinner or what to wear.

U - Usage: Would they use you to get what they desire?

No. As twisted and cruel he makes himself look, he does have a soft spot for his darling amd he would rather chop his own head off then to use them in that kind of way. The only thing he wants is them, and nothing else.

V - Version: Would they do anything diffirent from the classic yandere?

Well yes and no! He is still rather bloddy and grusome, but what sticks out about him is his power and royal status. He is a metal vessel user, it would be insanely difficult to beat him, so anyone in their right mind wouldn't dare to oppose him.

W- Wild card: A random yandere headcanon.

If his darling does behave at least a little, he'll be more then happy to spoil them. This is something that he just loves to do, and he wants to do it more often! If his darling misbehaves though, certain benifits will be taken away from them.

X - Xenophobia: How much would they get angry from their jelaousy?

Really, really angry like dear God, help-! Jelaousy is not an emotion he is familar with, and combined with the fact that he can slice pretty much anyone in half for merely insulting him is a deadly combination!

Y - Yandere: How many crimes would they commit?

Quite a few, but not so many to gain country wide attantion. He is still a prince after all, and he does need to be careful even if he can clean up and dispose of his mess...

[goatpaste]

breezepelt!!

do I like them:😬 not really! like, i REALLY like the idea of what he could be. i just dont really like him all that much in real writing. hes like of the few characters i really dont care about!

good qualities: hates his dad

bad qualities: kinda an asshole who never properly grows or has reason to be the way he is. like he HAS reasons but their not really the reasons

favourite episode/etc: uhh whatever book they went to the tribe in, i like the parts where his dad is mean to him and the three think crowfeather sucks and this is the start of reason for the way breezepelt is (but they kinda drop it in favor of him being mean and just an asshole to the three and everyone else that exist and it toootallyt doesnt stem from crowfeather being a shitty dad)

otp: him and good character development, but in real terms can i say i know this a go to for me, but him and berrynose could be really funny.

brotp: i wish him and any of his siblings ever got to grow and be friends. the fucker has no fucking friends

ot3: non

notp: him and heathertail! i dont get it man. like good for them for suddenly being a good couple with? good parenting skills?? or somEthing. but its nonsense 

like this sentence is NOt a good way to start a relationship. the idea of heathertail having to be the one to make him chill out and not him learning to get better  on his own sucks

best quote:

this one where he is very clearly not one to talk is p funny. like idiot you were training in hell for funsies

head canon:

not a much headcanon as what i wish happened in the books

i wish that like, crowfeather being hurt and broken by feathertails death and him and leafpool going back to the clan the way that twisted and broke him over time turned him into a bitter and rough person. he’s unkind to his mate and he’s unkind to his own son.

and this affects breezepelt, like breezepelt is a happy and kind kit and apprentice for a short time. but crowfeathers distance between himself and people who will love him is far. crowfeather doesn’t let people in and hurts people because of this. thinks he’s just protecting himself without realizing how his actions affect others, he’s a grown man who never got to grow up properly. 

breezepelt isnt just in the dark forest for evil he’s there for the same reason as everyone else. he feels mistreated and left out and like everyone else this place made them feel special. the dark forest doesn’t look for evil in cats, they look for vulnerability they look for this space in their lives they can fill. Breezepelts father hardly showed any affection growing up and his mother was the one who loved him unconditionally which both parents came to a fault in breezepelts raising. Nightcloud was also  the only who openly disdained against crowfaether, their connection gets further and further from each other. 

when the great battle happens (breezepelt working for the dark forest but i wish he had hesitation in his choice and wasnt so EXCITED about peoples deaths, just a scared man who like his father never grew up and is making all the wrong choices) breezepelt is on a war path because he thinks he can’t go back so might as well charge forward into a bad ending as fast as he can.

breezepelt openly tells crowfeather ‘I knew you hated me!’

and crowfeather having this moment of realizing, he’s hurt his son. He knew he hurt him, but its this moment he has to face this fact. his son thinks he hates him and.. how could he not think that?  crowfeather wouldn’t say he hated breezepelt, but he knows that he’s never cared for his own son. he hasn’t cared for anyone in a long time and when breezepelt yells this out, his father doesn’t reply, just a look of horror and realization. it hurts both of them and breezepelt runs off. 

after everyones pardoned, breezepelt begins to fell a twing of pain. his clan mates forgave him after he openly chose the dark forest. his clan forgave him? why?  in that battle he was so far gone, he though his choices led him down a destructive path that would only end him. but here he stood, being handed forgiveness by those he hurt. 

breezepelt wants to do better.

breezepelt does better. he’s nicer to an extent, he’s putting in the effort and he isnt snapping at everyone all the time for no reason. he was going to prove he earned his pardon. 

him and crowfeather are still distant to one another. 

but when the two go looking for nightcloud (i have NOt read crowfeather trial bUT imma put my two cents in anyways) its not jUST this sudden crowfeather realizes this is his son and he should love the son he has. 

its this build up, its the small acts that become bigger and kinder. they have a moment where its the two of them, and crowfeather opens up and talks. he talks about his past, he talks about feathertail, his journey, leafpool, all of it. he tells breezepelt how he felt, and how he wasn’t able to feel anymore.breezepelt has never heard the stories before. he’s sorry for how he is and how he’s been to breezepelt. breezepelt opens up. the two talk. they talk like they’ve never spoken to one another and its long stories about themselves. who they are and how they want to be. they want to get better and they want to be better to each other.

and in time crowfeather tells breezepelt, he loves him and he’s proud of who they have become. 

[brigirl3]

A Trial Story! Please give me feedback ;w; ( DBD )

I always overthink everything so I started this draft because I was fed up with myself.  Please let me know what your thoughts are.  I am currently on the fence if I should continue this or not...

Think of this as chapter 1 I suppose :s

The entity is a hard thing to understand, one minute it’s pitting its victim against each other and then the next they are granted hours to do as they please.  Without any known way to escape this hell, both the killers and survivors are forced to play this twisted game.  Or so that’s what they think, no one is really sure what is out there.  

On the far side of the twisted rows or corn lay a barren field before giving way to a tall pine forest.  Here, the survivors come from time to time to de-stress and take in the sweet smells of the forest.  It is unknown how vast the entity’s world expands but it does have some nice areas surprisingly.  A soft fire began to cackle as a few gathered around to take in the warmth.  Claudette hugged her knees tightly looking into the flames, her expression was tight.  Unlike the others, who either chose to lie in the low hanging branches or cook food she wanted to be alone.  Finally having enough she quietly moved to find a better spot.  It took a bit to get far enough from the light so it wouldn’t be too bright but eventually she stumbled upon a neat little hideaway.  A patch of bushes giving a little leeway to an under path, crawling through it she found herself encased in a circular space surrounded by shrubbery.  Low hanging branches made for a soft roof with a leafy opening for the moonlight to hit her face.  Claudette was left speechless, all she could do was situate herself to stare up through the opening at the beautiful night sky.  “ I.. didn’t know the entity could create something like this..” she said to herself, barely as a whisper.  The sweet smell of the forest wafted around her as she continued to stare at the view, unaware that the lull of it all was getting to her.  

Back at the camp, the others continued to enjoy the scene together.  Meg cooked up the fish they caught by the fire and Jake hummed a tune under his breath as he brought back the fire wood he collected.  David told stories of his fights in various bars and tidbits of his previous life before the entity claimed him.  His stories were riveting and never failed to entertain, a few were gathered around but Cheryl was especially drawn in as per usual.  Bill and Dwight were on the side having a private discussion, sharing notes about what they found within the Entity.  “ Francis came back from the South, no matter how far he went it didn’t seem to end,” said Dwight, his expression was a cross between fatigue and frustration.  “ Quentin basically reported the same thing,” Bill let out a long sigh, “ So is it safe to assume that this place doesn't have walls outside the trials?”  Dwight placed a hand on Bill’s shoulder, “Unfortunately, but we can’t give up.  Let us rest up for tonight, have fun and enjoy our fellow survivors before we are summoned.” With a final nod they both rejoined the rest of the group, just in time as Meg called out the food was ready. 

The group gathered together to enjoy a nice meal, everyone was content as the smell of freshly cooked fish filled the air. “ You seem to be opening up a bit more now Cheryl.” Meg chuckled a bit before handing a blushing Cheryl her portion, “ I am glad that someone is helping you warm up to us~” Meg glanced in David’s direction who was too busy not paying attention.   “So anything new Dwight?” Meg looked up, a small sliver hope in her eyes.  Dwight choked on his fish at the sudden change of topic, “Um. Unfortunately no, our original plan to try and find the perimeter was a bust.  There doesn’t seem to be one.”  A moment of silence fell over the group, only the sound of the fire cackling and chewing continued.  “ .. We are going to die here aren't we..?”  “Cher-,” Jake was cut off as Cheryl stood up beginning to yell, “ NO!! We are! There is no way out and we are forced to play this sick game!!” she began to breathe erratically, putting her hands on her neck as she let out several wheezing noises.  “ She is having a panic attack,” Jake got up to try and comfort her but she pushed him away, distrust was written all over her face.  “ Don't..- touch..”  Meg turned to David but he was already on it, “ Cheryl take deep breaths, it’s ok.  No need to work yourself up.”  He approached her cautiously before putting his hand on her shoulders to steady her.  “ Look at me, breathe.”  Her eyes locked with his, her hands relaxed from her throat as she synchronized her breathing with his.  Not before long she was back to normal, staring deeply into his eyes still matching his breath.  The fire illuminated their faces and made them seem so far away from everyone else.  Cheryl quickly looked away, she mumbled sadly, “ How can we be sure there IS a way out? What if there isn’t one?”  A look came across Dwight’s face but he quickly replaced it, “  If there isn’t a way out, then we will make one.  Don’t give up so easily, we keep fighting till the end.  We are survivors and we will keep going no matter what.”  “Hell yea Dweet!” Nea fist pumped the air in approval, a few others cheered in response.  The night carried on with a more upbeat vibe as the survivors forgot about their troubles and enjoyed each other’s company.

A sharp whale of a siren pierced the air startled the group, the sound was very familiar.  A warning that danger was coming a change of some sort, whether they moved or not was optional but who would choose to stay with potential danger?  The survivors hustled around, putting out the fire and gathering up the remaining food to take back to the main Fire.  Panic slowly took over the group as they left a mess in their wake.  Some of the food was left behind along with kicked up dirt and strewn logs that were meant to keep the flames going all night.    Before a matter of minutes they were gone, leaving behind a faint wisp of dying fire smoke.  Not even a few seconds after they left, a gangly figure appeared out of the darkness.  Her figure loomed over the fire and strewn pieces of food.  Letting out a high pitched noise she happily began to feast on the dirt fish.  “ Oh come on Lisa, you are better than that.”  Another figure appeared to the left of her, surveying the area.  “ It seems like we just missed our friends...”  Lisa didn’t respond, her attention was entirely on the delicious(?) meal in front of her.  God it had been so long since she had some fresh meat, she didn’t care if they were covered in freshly turned mud and twigs.  “ Slow down,” he said in a gruff tone, leaning down to snatch up the remaining fish.  “I can try to clean it for you.  Pretty sure there is a stream nearby if I remember correctly..?”  The only response he got was a snarl and a mean look, “ Come on you can’t be mad at me for looking out for you.”  He rolled his eyes, turning a fish in one hand, “ We will probably have to start this fire back up anyway to dry the fish, might as well hunt for more meat.”  At the mere mention of more food her expression softened and again, high pitched noises ensued; yet they sounded kinder.  She reached out a hand to touch his leg as a way to say thank you, surprised by her sudden gesture he jumped a bit only to compose himself quickly.  “Don’t start acting nice now that you want something..” he stood up and was quick to disappear with a few fish in hand, heading off in an unknown direction. 

There was darkness for a while.  Nothing was happening nor could anything be seen or smelt.  It went on like this for a while until moonlight appeared above, illuminating the dark.  All around there were hills, valleys that stretched on all around. The scenery was colored with a dim blue light, a steady sound of a stream could be heard.  Crickets chirped and the owls sang a melancholy tune.  Weirdly, trees appeared out of nowhere along with a steep drop where the water cascaded down into nothingness.  Inching closer and closer to the edge felt right, gravitating towards danger but there was no sense of fear or urgency by the ledge.  Looking down there was darkness, no light nor sound just black.  There was a strong urge to dive right in, so much so that it felt natural.  She didn’t know what to make of it but before she knew what was happening, she found herself falling head first into the abyss.  “ GUha!!”  Claudette jumped from her nap and made friends with a cute low hanging branch.  It smacked the shit out of her forehead nearly knocking her glasses off and knocked her flat on her back.  Dazed she stayed on the ground for a while, her head throbbing violently making it hard to concentrate or see straight.  A few minutes passed before she attempted to touch her forehead, the pain felt less and less with each touch.  The moonlight continued to shine brightly through the canopy opening, but nothing could be heard other than the sounds of the forest.  She held her breath listening hard for her friends.  After several minutes of silence, she came to the conclusion that she was either too far away or that everyone has settled down for the night.  With a sigh she slowly gathered to her feet only to be startled by a rustling sound.  She froze mid stance, not daring to call out to the unknown.  A figure started to part the bushes entering into, what she thought, was her private little getaway.  With a panicked motion, her feet began to back slowly until she could feel the leaves of one of the walls tickle her skin.  Using one of her legs, she rubbed the wall searching for the way she came in.  An arm was visible now and more was coming through the far side of the bush.  She felt her calf go from brushing up against leaves to being greeted with a cool gust of air.  Without hesitation she got on all fours and crawled out backwards quickly, checking to make sure the figure couldn’t see her.  As she escaped, she noticed huge brawny arms with tubes sticking out.  Just before its face could be seen, she could see a pair of milky eyes glowing coming closer and closer until it was in full view.  It was the Doctor, by the time he came all the way through, Claudette just barely made it through the under bush and dashed to one side of the opening.  She could hear his heavy breathing as he moved around a bit, as if he was searching for something.  “ …..” He was talking to himself but she couldn’t make out exactly what.  Regardless she cautiously began to make her way back to the campsite, it was this way right?

  God it was too dark to tell where she came from, she followed her gut and made a sharp right.  Several minutes passed and Claudette found herself going deeper and deeper into the forest.  This doesn’t seem right.. She felt like she was a lot further than she did when she found her napping spot.  A rapid gust of wind blew past her unexpectedly, the damn thing nearly pushed her over.  Hopping a few times forward in an attempt to not fall, she lost her battle with balance and tumbled down into a steady roll.  She felt gravity take her over a hidden drop straight into a cold lake.  

[greenygreenland]

Wannabe Chap 11: Star Wars x Reader

-i'm so happy that I made it this far into the book -i hope you enjoy reading my work, because I put a lot of love and care into what I do. Basically, this book is my baby that I'm nurturing and growing -you're a young child in your flashbacks btw. Also sorry it's been like two weeks since I updated. School just started like two days ago and I was so confused on what was happening and stressed since I chose to do remote learning

'𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝘀𝗮𝘄 𝗺𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗹𝘀 '𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻.' -𝗟𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗱𝗲, 𝗙𝗹𝗲𝗲𝘁𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗠𝗮𝗰

"Excuse me..." 

(Y/n) turned to the location of the voice. The young teen's padawan braid dangled from his brown locks, swaying as a strong breeze brushed past the courtyard. Today was a fairly cool day, so (Y/n) shivered a bit as she stood. "Were you speaking to me?" she quietly inquired. The boy let out a small, awkward laugh. "I don't know who else I'd be talking to." 

She surveyed the serene courtyard. At this time, it wasn't uncommon to find students studying together or other Masters holding classes in the afternoon sun. Today, it was absolutely dead. There was not a soul in sight save for her and the boy approaching. (Y/n) knew she had been meditating for a while, but not that long.

"By any chance," the boy added, "have you seen my master Obi-wan Kenobi?"

(Y/n) froze for a second, eyes widening in awe. She recognised the boy from class. He was a very eager and passionate student, but that seemed to be what held him back. Ever since he'd first shown up at the Temple, a plethora of rumours had spread about how he was the 'Chosen One' said to destroy the Sith and bring balance to the Force. Despite that, he himself hadn't reached equilibrium. "I," she swallowed and settled on the fountain's ledge. "I have not seen your master. Sorry."

She settled back onto the side of the fountain and the boy sighed in defeat. He plopped down next to her, placing his squarish hands on the ledge as he swung his feet in frustration. "Stars, he's been gone for hours and I haven't seen a single sign of him! Where could he be?" (Y/n) shyly shook her head with a shrug. "Master Kenobi is part of the Council, perhaps he is in a meeting?" 

"I haven't really thought about that." mumbled the boy. "Say, what's your name? I know I have some classes with you, but I've never really..." (Y/n) nodded in agreement. "Yes. I have not conversed with you. I am (Y/n)." 

"Last name?" 

She faltered, pausing to lick her chapped lips. The boy seemed so eager to hear her speak that she replied with, "Kryze. (Y/n) Kryze." He awkwardly smiled in reply. "Anakin Skywalker." (Y/n) frowned, knitting her brows so close together that they could have been one. "You are not going to...you know..." 

"You know what?" 

"Say something about me?" she quietly finished. Anakin mimicked her expression. "Why would I say anything about you?" (Y/n) played with the hem of her robes, turning her gaze to the loose threads to fiddle with. "I'm...I'm Mandalorian. The other kids always say I'll turn bad because of that." Anakin didn't seem to be all well-versed in Jedi history, because he only sat there with a dumb look on his face. Although he was older than (Y/n), he was definitely not the wiser.

"That's mean of them." (Y/n) dryly laughed. Her heart ached thinking about all the times kids picked on her for her heritage. It left an open wound that continued to grow with every passing day, and she knew that it was slowly turning her bitter. "That is what all the masters say, but none of them stand up for me. Some kids say that I should be a senator instead of a Jedi." (Y/n)'s shoulders slumped and Anakin crossed his arms. "I can't say I know how that feels like, but I do know that you shouldn't pay attention to that kind of stuff. My mum used to tell me that when I was younger."

(Y/n) nodded thoughtfully. "That is true. I suppose I just can't though. It is no easy feat to ignore people when they say I might as well be a killer." 

"Why would they have any reason to say that?"

"There was a battle between the Mandalorians and the Jedi long ago."

"Oh...I see."

There was an uncomfortable beat of silence. (Y/n) half-expected Anakin to get up and abandon her, but he turned to face her with a soft look in his bright eyes. "For the record," he piped up, "I think you're a wonderful person. I may not talk to you in class, but I see how nice you are to everyone. It doesn't matter what they say about you because I think it's great to be proud of who you are." (Y/n) furrowed her brows together. "Do you really believe so?" 

He firmly nodded. "I know so." He was about to stand up, but he tripped over his own robes and fell into the fountain. And for the first time in a while, (Y/n) laughed.

--- 

(Y/n) thought back to when Anakin shielded her from the exploding star ship probably a day or two ago. He had faced the full impact of the blast as she tumbled to the ground in his safe arms. 

"(Y/n)."

The pain in his voice was still so real to her. He meant every single word he said.

"I would never let anyone hurt you, and that includes me."

She turned back to the man marching towards her with the blood red saber. Her heart thumped so loudly that it could have popped out of her chest. That couldn't be Anakin--she was probably just imagining it. It wasn't possible and never would be. Even if it was, she saw him a few days ago. 

"Master Jedi," called the Princess, "we have to go now. If we stay here any longer, we all will die." The princess pulled (Y/n) up the ramp and into the safety of the rubbish ship and helped (Y/n) into the main lounge room. The two slid into the booth against the wall, and for a moment, (Y/n) relaxed. Her heart rate began to slow, and the blood rushing in her ears smoothly lessened into a dull throbbing. 

Then it hit her: that feeling of imbalance with the sense that something was wrong. She felt it in the air and in her veins and in the Force that what just happened was not meant to be. The Princess was saying something to her, but again, she couldn't hear.

---

"Why are you crying?" 

(Y/n) met Anakin's sky blue eyes with a sniffle. Her heart weighed heavy in her chest, and it was hard to breathe as she held back a sob. The temple was quiet this early in the morning, so she didn't expect to find Anakin in one of the main halls. "What...what are you doing here?" she cried out. Anakin leaned back against the wall and sunk down to the floor beside her. "I could ask you the same too." (Y/n) sniffled again and rubbed her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. Anakin dug around in his pockets and produced a small napkin. 

"Here." 

"...Thanks..." (Y/n) quietly blew her nose as Anakin averted his gaze to the open windows. The vibrant yellows and oranges of the sun illuminated across the brightening skies, reflecting off the clouds and shining over all of the city. Speeders lifted into the skies along with a variety of starships, zooming past skyscrapers and into the streets or up into the vast ink of space. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." 

Anakin frowned and scooted closer to her. He lifted up his sleeve and helped her wipe away the tears streaming down her face. "It's okay to cry, you know." (Y/n) knitted her brows together and said, "Everyone here says I shouldn't cry. They say it's a weakness and that I should release it into the Force but..." Her shoulders wildly shook and Anakin practically threw his arms around her. 

"Oh, no," he said. "Don't cry anymore. It's okay." He cradled (Y/n)'s small form close like his mother used to do. (Y/n) savoured the warmth reflecting off his aura and rested her head on his chest as he rocked back and forth, humming a small tune. The sun continued to rise over the horizon, soaring higher over the skyline and bringing with it a powerful light. "Did someone make you cry?" (Y/n) nodded. "Yeah." Anakin rested his head over hers. "What did they say?" 

"That...that I-I don't belong here. They said I'll never...that I'll never be a padawan..." Anakin wanted to believe he knew what he was doing, but he really didn't. Ever since he showed up at the Temple, all he's ever done was bow, speak beautifully, and learn the ways of the Force. Love wasn't exactly something they openly showed here, so he continued to hug (Y/n) close. 

"They...they said I'll be kicked out..."

Anakin's jaw dropped. "What? No! That won't happen. That won't ever happen. The Jedi wouldn't kick you out just because you're Mandalorian. They aren't like that, I promise." (Y/n) pulled away to wipe her eyes. "But those kids said..."

"What those kids did was waste their breath!" exclaimed Anakin. He wanted to say he was going to deal with this like a responsible padawan, but his lips curled into a scowl and his blood boiled like the lava on Mustafar. How dare her peers always insult her and make her days spent in the temple a complete nightmare? That wasn't the mark of a Peace Keeper, no it was one of pretender, a fake who only abused their titles. 

"You shouldn't care about what those kids say because you're an incredible, kind, and smart girl." he firmly said. The anger making his blood boil began to morph and cool into a sense of protectiveness. He didn't want to have to do anything he'd regret, so he resolved to protect (Y/n). Confrontation would only cause bigger problems, he thought.

"You've taught me so much about the Force and the Ways of the Jedi." Anakin added. He helped (Y/n) stand in the sun's morning rays. "When they knock you down, you've gotta get up again. You're better than them. You're so much kinder and nicer than them. If anyone's going to be kicked out, you better believe it'll be them!"

(Y/n) gave a watery smile and Anakin wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving it a good rub. "Come on, let's get some breakfast."

---

(Y/n) leaned back in the booth, resting her head against the ship's wall with a long sigh. That was her Anakin, the one and only who cared deeply for everyone and everything. He was like no other Jedi, compassionate and a bit unpredictable, but (Y/n) trusted him with her life. She paused for a moment and closed her eyes to bring her focus back. Her loud mind began to settle down before another face came into mind. 

Obi-wan Kenobi. Why had she sense him fighting the guy clad in black when he should've been back in Coruscant with Anakin? Her instincts were never wrong, but this? It again didn't make any sense. In fact, nothing made sense.

The Princess placed a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder as Han and Luke came barrelling into the ship. Chewie had already started the controls, and while the boys made a racket and got the ship up and running, the Princess made sure to keep (Y/n)'s attention on her. "Are you okay?" (Y/n) opened her mouth, but the words wouldn't leave her lips. There was a disturbance in the Force that literally made her feel like the galaxy were a seesaw, tipping this way and that in a weak attempt to keep the balance.

"I..."

She didn't know anymore. Was she okay? Was she not? Maybe she was drugged and that was the problem.

"...what year is it?" 

The Princess frowned in concern. "Han, do you have any water?" she called. He dug around the cockpit before throwing a flask over his shoulder. The Princess caught the flask with ease and pried the top open. "Here, we've all been through a lot today." (Y/n) took the flask and chugged down the cool liquid without a second thought. She drained the container until every last drop had gone down her throat. Leia took the flask back and closed it. "Feel better?"

"A bit. Thank you, Princess..."

"Call me Leia. What's your name?"

"(Y/n) Kryze." she replied. Leia was about to set the flask down on the booth, but she went completely rigid. "Kryze?" she breathily repeated. (Y/n) nodded. Leia's hand flew to her forehead as if she were about to suffer from a stroke. "You're Mandalorian and a Jedi? Is that even possible?" (Y/n) shrugged. "I used to think the same thing when I was younger." 

"How did the Empire capture you?" (Y/n) knitted her brows. There was that word again 'Empire'. "I apologise, but what does that mean?" she inquired. Leia pursed her lips together with a hum. "Did you hit your head? What was the last thing that happened before you ended up on that space station?" 

"I was in a warehouse on Coruscant. There was an explosion, and then I saw Count Dooku. He...I believe he was the one who kidnapped me." Leia looked beyond concerned. A small 'oh dear' left her lips that send chills down (Y/n)'s spine. "I don't know how to put this, but Count Dooku died a decade or so ago." (Y/n) wasn't sure how to feel about that. Confusion was her first instinct, then worry, and lastly, shock. It was like her body had completely frozen over in ice. She couldn't move or think straight. 

A decade or so ago. 

She missed out on a decade or so of history.

But how?

"I'm not too sure," continued Leia, "but you may have been frozen in carbonite or kept in a stasis pod. The Clone Wars ended about nineteen or twenty years ago, so you've probably slept through all that along with the Jedi Purge." Jedi Purge? The ending of the Clone Wars? Her vision suddenly became blurry. "I think I need to..." (Y/n) never finished that thought. Her eyes rolled back into her head and it was lights out completely.

PART 12