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humbly-a-doppelganger · 4 months ago

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The Stolen Child: Chapter 2 - The haunting dead

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When Diana first laid eyes on the girl leaning against her high school’s gate, she had to stop dead in her tracks, somewhat overwhelmed by her beauty.

Atalanta was gorgeous.

Her hair was the colour of just-fallen snow, her eyes were purple and her skin the palest canvas Diana had ever beheld. Subconsciously, Diana was happy it was raining, because she feared that Atalanta would get sun poisoned otherwise. Diana had already seen a lot of white, non-albino people suffer a similar fate. Her father liked to call it the British curse. Although Atalanta didn’t necessarily look British; rather, she had certain facial features that reminded Diana of the Mediterranean peers at her former school.

Atalanta must’ve been around Diana’s height, 1’66—perhaps a bit shorter—, but her lean complexion, ramrod straight posture and innate confidence spun the illusion of impossible height. It was striking, as was every other detail that made her up.

“Hey,” greeted Oliver before walking over to Atalanta and drawing her in for a quick peck on the lips.

The two made an odd couple. Oliver dressed marginally better than Cal, and he exclusively bought plain clothing. Atalanta, on the other hand, evidently paid painstaking attention to her wardrobe. That much was discernible from her well-ironed, baby blue vintage dress and the intricate braided bun she’d gathered her hair up in.

“Hello, Oliver,” Atalanta stepped back from her boyfriend and switched her attention over to Diana “You must be Diana Zubairu,” she said as she extended her hand for Diana to shake.

Her voice didn’t denote any emotion whatsoever.

“Coraline,” she acknowledged Cal with a curt nod.

The tension between them could be cut with a knife. Just as Cal had said earlier, Atalanta’s eyes set on her with an odd intensity: as if on the lookout for secrets hiding underneath her skin.

Her piercing gaze reminded Diana of John.

Stop it. Don’t even think about him. You left Coxwold for a reason, she chided herself.

“Hi,” replied Cal, looking like she was trying very hard not to cringe.

Seemingly sensing his best friend’s discomfort, Oliver slung his arm around Atalanta’s shoulders and motioned for her to lead the way to the café.

On their way there, Atalanta and Oliver were completely enthralled in each other; they walked hand in hand and talked in hushed whispers, though the latter would glance at Cal from time to time. Diana could tell he tried to be subtle with little success.

Meanwhile, Cal and Diana walked at the rear in silence. In fact, they hadn’t talked more than what was strictly necessary since lunch break. Diana supposed her reaction to Cal implying that she had a secret was to blame. But she couldn’t have helped herself.

Rationally, she knew it was impossible for Cal to be like her, and she wouldn’t want to wish that kind of torture upon her worst enemy, not that she had one. And yet Diana wondered. What would it be like not to be alone?

Cal nudged her on the arm. “Hey,” she cleared her throat awkwardly “You know, we don’t have to talk about what happened during lunch.”

Diana felt herself wind tight. Cal hastily continued “I mean, sure, I would love to lend a friendly ear and everything. But that’s a 100% your call. I have secrets, too,” at that, Cal shot a quick glance at Atalanta “And it’s not like I’m comfortable disclosing them, either.”

“Not even Oliver knows?” Diana asked against her better judgement.

Cal shook her head. “Not even Oliver knows.”

If she hadn’t told her best friend, maybe Cal was like Diana. For the past eight years, her curse was something Diana had taught herself to conceal, especially from her loved ones. Did Cal have siblings? Or did another type of ghost haunt her?

Diana pondered over Cal’s words, studying them from all angles in hopes of finding anything that encouraged her to take the leap. To tell Cal about John. And then she thought: wasn’t what she knew about her friend already enough? Cal had been great right from the start; her careless nature had somewhat eased Diana’s constant anxiety, and she hadn’t minded that she was both black and a lesbian. That was more than Diana could say for many of the friends she could’ve made, had her skin been paler and her sexuality conventional. Mr. and Mrs. Everitt had welcomed her with open arms. Last night, the latter had even gone as far as to cook Diana’s favourite Nigerian dishes to make sure she felt like home, and she and her husband had befriended Mum and Baba in order to reassure them that Diana would be fine.

Diana could see the abyss. The impulse to tell Cal the truth raged war with the paralysing imperative to retain her darkest nooks under lock and key. Diana valued their friendship more than she thought she would, so she took a deep breath and settled for a middle ground.

She walked to the edge, her toes curling around air, but didn’t take the leap just yet.

“I hope one day we’ll both be able to confide in each other,” Diana smiled.

Cal returned her smile. She would have responded, had a loud thump not startled them. They looked forward and saw that Oliver had tripped over a crack. He’d cushioned the fall with his knees, and now the front of his trousers was wet with dirt and rainwater.

“Stupid,” said Cal with a snort “Oliver, mate!” she went to join him and Atalanta, who heaved him to his feet.

Diana observed them, smiling still. She was about to join them, but then her eye caught a familiar silhouette.

He stood a few metres away, staring straight at her with the same unreadable countenance.

John.

John followed them the rest of the trip to the café, and once they reached its facade, he followed them inside. Never taking his eyes off Diana.

Luckily, Diana had long taught herself how to pretend like he wasn’t there. Still, his presence unnerved her. John belonged in Coxwold, her former school and even her travels to Abuja, but not London.

Or so she’d thought.

“This is Timeless,” announced Atalanta in her even voice “There’s a table over there we could use,” then, without even a glance at her companions, she walked to it, Oliver right in tow.

The café had looked ordinary from the outside, but the inside told a completely different story. The walls were dark green, and covered in paintings ranging from children’s drawings to a replica of the Mona Lisa; from the ceiling hung both gas chandeliers and the latest ceiling lamps. Following the non-aesthetic aesthetic the café had going on, no tables and chairs matched. Timeless looked like a juxtaposition of differing puzzle pieces that, somehow, made for a lovely landscape.

“What a place,” came Cal’s voice from behind.

Doing her best to ignore John propped against their table, Diana grabbed Cal’s wrist and dragged her to Atalanta and Oliver.

The dozen or so patrons there were openly staring at them. A few even mustered up enough courage to approach Atalanta to ask who they were.

“Oliver’s friends: Coraline Everitt and Diana Zubairu,” she would always respond.

Some would express shock at hearing Cal’s name, others would shoot her a nasty glare, but none pressed further. The only exception was an Indian man in his mid-twenties.

He’d barked out a laugh and offered them his hand. “Pleased to meet you two. I’m Daas Kapil,” then he’d ruffled Atalanta’s hair “Young Atalanta better be treating you nicely.”

“Of course I am, Daas,” Atalanta had replied with the barest hint of a smile.

After he’d left, Cal whispered to Diana. “That’s the nicest I’ve ever seen her.”

Having overheard her, Oliver replied that if Cal had put effort into getting to know Atalanta, she wouldn’t be so surprised. After that, they’d gone back to studying.

Three hours in, they were still glued to their textbooks. All but Cal, that is: she’d only leafed through their history book, half-assed a couple maths exercises, and then moved on to playing Candy Crush. Diana wished she could chastise her friend, but there was no point in forcing her to study more than she needed.

Diana took a sip of her spicy hot chocolate. Cal’s intellectual advantage aside, the afternoon was progressing smoothly. Diana completed the assignments her physics and Spanish teachers had sent as homework, and was on her way to finishing her part of a history group project.

Atalanta was a superb study partner. Not only was she quiet—which wasn’t surprising—but she also helped Oliver and Diana with their maths homework, as she was some sort of prodigy on that front. Diana had asked her what high school she attended, at what Atalanta, not looking up from her iPad, replied, “A boarding school. You wouldn’t know it.”

“I went to a boarding school, too. Maybe I know yours.”

From what little she could see of her screen, Atalanta was reading something in Mandarin. Diana’s previous school had had extracurricular lessons on that language, so chances were she and Atalanta were former schoolmates.

But Atalanta shook her head. “No.”

“I’m going to dream of Parmenides tonight,” yawned Oliver, slinging his arm around Atalanta “Someone remind me why we decided to make this group project on him.”

“Because you chose to and we trusted you,” commented Cal, grinning. One of her feet was propped up against Oliver’s knee, not that Atalanta seemed to care.

“I only chose it because I thought your mother would help us,” he protested. To Atalanta, he said “Dahlia loves philosophy.”

“Don’t remind me,” Cal sighed “You should hear her talking about Plato.”

“I’m sure she made your part of the project.”

“She didn’t.”

“Liar.”

“You lie.”

“Danger is near.”

Diana started violently, jumping to her feet. Shaking, she slowly pivoted on her heels to fully face John: he stood beside her, closer than ever before.

John hadn’t changed since the last time she braved a true look at him. He still had the appearance of a ten year old black boy. His hair remained shaved close to his scalp, neither had he changed out of his white tank top and tattered jeans.

He looked exactly like he had on the day of his murder.

“What?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“Diana, are you okay?” Cal’s concerned voice sounded more distant than it actually was, and from the corner of her eye, Diana could glimpse Atalanta and Oliver staring at her with clear alarm on their faces. The former stood up, slowly. She fished something out of her pockets, and Diana thought she saw a blade glinting against the oil lamp light above.

“Danger is near.”

John tried to take hold of Diana, but she quickly drew back against Cal, who wrapped her arms around her, confused. The people around them had started noticing them.

Before any of Diana’s friends could say anything, a new customer came into the café.

“There’s no time,” pleaded John.

He lunged for Diana, catching her wrist. Shocked, Diana saw their skins melt together.

“A host,” whispered Oliver.

Diana screamed as the world around her pummelled into pitch darkness.

#writeblr #female writers #original writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing #queer writers #writing community #original character #spilled writing #spilled words

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beantothemax · 2 years ago

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Cold.

It was so cold.

Everything hurt.

... There was someone next to him. Where was he? Who was beside him?

Crick slowly opened his eyes, and it took a moment before everything came crashing down. The Book of Night. Kaldena.

Temenos and Castti.

Temenos.

Crick glanced at the person curled up next to him, gingerly embracing him and taking care to avoid his stomach.

That messy white hair, that pale, sly face... It was Temenos without a doubt. Crick nearly sobbed with relief as he gently pressed a kiss to Temenos’s head, remembering how hard he and the apothecary, Castti, had fought to keep him alive.

Their efforts had paid off, it seemed. He smiled at the thought- Castti would be pleased to know her patient was doing well.

Temenos stirred, and his eyelids fluttered. He smiled softly at Crick, and he could feel himself falling even more for the cleric. A significant part of him wished to see that face looking up at him every morning.

“Good morning, Crick...” Temenos murmured, voice slow from the remnants of sleep clinging. Crick gently brushed a stray bit of hair from his face, tucked it behind his ear. ...Was it just his imagination, or did Temenos go a little pink from that..?

“Good morning, Temmy,” Crick smiled, and wondered to himself if he looked every bit of lovestuck as he felt. He must have, because Temenos’s expression softened significantly when he spoke. “How’d you sleep, my little lamb?” He seemed more alert now, more awake. Crick just raised an eyebrow, giving a mischevious smile. “Your little lamb? When did I become yours?”

Temenos, ever the clever man, just returned the smile and went with Crick’s joke. “Since our first encounter in this town, my dear,” was his witty response.

“Dear? Gods above, you certainly are quick to draw conclusions.”

“Drawing conclusions? No, dear Crick, I believe it is simply called using context clues.” Temenos’s smile got that softness to it again, his grey eyes met Crick’s brown, and Crick all but melted. He noticed the subtle shift Temenos made to be closer to his face, and adjusted himself to do the same. “And what context clues might those be?” He asked tauntingly, and Temenos gently carded a hand through his hair, sending shivers down his spine. “Why, I’d say you’re in love with me, Crick.”

They were so close now, Crick could see flecks of gold and green mingling with the gorgeous grey of Temenos’s eyes, could feel his breath on his face.

Crick delicately cupped Temenos’s cheek, and smiled crookedly. “Right as always, sir.”

Temenos moved himself ever-so slightly closer, and Crick took that as an invitation.

Their lips connected, and Crick felt as though they were the only two people on Earth. His hand found the small of Temenos’s back, Temenos’s hand found the back of Crick’s head.

They stayed like that until they had to break apart, and Crick stared at Temenos adoringly. “Temmy?” He murmured, and Temenos smiled once again. “Yes, my dear?” Crick ignored the way every nickname Temenos called him made his stomach do backflips, and gently pressed another- shorter- kiss to Temenos’s lips.

“I love you.”

Temenos interlaced their fingers, holding their intertwined hands over his heart. “I love you, too.”

YEA YES HSZ HES. YES YES YES YES!!!!! perfect beautiful ten outta ten all the awards

ALSO. CRICK CALLING TEMENOS ‘TEMMY’………. EXPLODING BLOWING UP

god. every single day I wish you could’ve written temy’s chapter 3.

#crick and temenos cuddling. you agree.#these 2 fictional characters are extremely important to me you don’t understand #asks #octopath traveler 2 spoilers #octopath traveler ii spoilers

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halcyon-digest · 1 month ago

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2014

Art Klaudt: Attending my uncle's funeral and listening to Of Montreal/Battles/The Flaming Lips/LCD Soundsystem on the way there/back

Anonymous 1: unknown

ava: it took me a while to think of one for this year but i did. this was the summer i had my first proper crush on a girl and thus confirmed my suspicions i was bisexual. i had been aware of her for years because we attended the same theatre camp but this summer was the first time i really interacted with her. she was a few years older than me but shorter than me and she was cool and funny and pretty and talented and outgoing and shared certain “nerdy” interests with me and people said she was stuck-up but i just thought that made her even cooler. it was her last summer before she’d age out of the camp so on the last day i told her i really looked up to her and i was gonna miss her and she gave me a big hug. at home i doodled her name on my summer math packet and that’s when i thought to myself yeah, this is a real crush.

kate: My mid-college years are kind of a blur. I was on tumblr a lot during this time so most of my memories are online ones. I have to go through my blog archive... oh! here's one: around Christmas I decided to dye my hair powder blue, something I'd wanted to try since I was 14. I have pictures from Christmas 2014 of my hair when it was bleached blonde, so it might have actually been in the new year that I dyed it. But it was a whole affair where my friend Alyssa, who I have known since we met in Sunday school as children, and reconnected with post-highschool, volunteered to help me bleach, tone and dye it since she'd been dyeing hers teal for a couple years I think. She came over and we started with a little strip by my ear and went to Whataburger late at night while it was developing. It felt like such an adventure.

Anonymous 2: going to see a concert in a now-defunct venue in the middle of nowhere. the first time i had been to a general admission show in a smaller place without seats. i spent the whole night directly in front of the speakers & at the end of it my ears had been thoroughly fucked to the point that everything sounded high pitched

Lucas: I remember YouTube, but nothing specific

Anonymous 3: I don't know if this was in 2014 or 2015 but standing in the front room of the house I'd been renting with my girlfriend, the moment after she shut the front door and got in a taxi and got driven away to the airport to go back home to Norway, and knowing that she was now my ex-girlfriend and I might not see her again, and experiencing a heartbreak and anguish so painful that it was actually numb, like when people describe getting a burn so severe that it feels cold. The living room had a lot of pine yellow hues. I stood with my back to the wall looking outwards and the front door was to my left and open doorway to the kitchen was to my right. All her stuff was gone and all my stuff was packed up in boxes. The vacuum left by her and her stuff made me feel like the entire world was imploding, which is a cliche of course but that's the only way I can describe the way it felt. Then my dad came in a hire van and did all the moving of my stuff and all the cleaning of the house while I moved around in a numbed daze, and then he drove me back to his house in double quick speed.

Anonymous 4: PE class with a teacher that everyone hated but I liked

Anonymous 5: Being confused over Homestuck discourse. Though maybe that happened in a later year.

superswag: First memory, running around cousins house

v0w0v: Sleepovers with my best friend. I had an enormous crush on her. We would talk in funny voices named "Howard" and "Matilda". Howard and Matilda answered to a "Master" that was just a nose with a little bow like Mr. Saturn. We would draw each other as furries, and our characters were always dating. Our relationship never evolved past character roleplay and a single kiss, but that's okay. I ended up going to a different school and we drifted apart. I hope she's well.

Anonymous 6: My childhood crush getting suspended for seriously injuring a boy who called her a dyke

Anonymous 7: my friend and i kept reciting part of a very obscure ytp around this one guy who developed a very negative response to it. he would chase me around, and when he eventually caught me pulled my hair violently.

binnie: ROBLOX... I was briefly a moderator of a game called Zee Bawx, a very simple game about a cardboard box that can become other things if you "imagine" them--that is, by saying commands from a list to see them--but mostly i just liked talking with with one of the other moderators there, existing

Anonymous 8: Being insecure and starving myself on purpose. Being traumatized by my family fighting.

April M. Mildew: I can't really individually determine any memories from 2014 or 2013. I don't know what happened in the fourth or fifth grades. I can't place any events specifically into these years. I think I watched Youtube videos on a phone. I think a Game Theory video had a scary mario picture that made me have to run away from the phone. I think I was watching videos I thought were funny with a kid who was sleeping over at my dad's house. We were sharing a pair of earbuds. I don't remember who that kid was. Son of a friend of my dad.

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ariathelamia · 5 months ago

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So... since the comic is still taking a bit i guess i can share some of my older art in the mean time ^^...

^ this right there was my first ever emote... i am currently still using a bunny girl avatar in my stream... and some of my friends use carnivore avatars... so they kept making the joke of seasoning me with BBQ sauce xD

This one was my second one, note that this one and the one before were made before i realized/came out i was trans^^... thats why their hair is still shorter and drawn with masculinity in mind...

This one was my first emote drawn AFTER i came out as trans, and is showing of way better on how i like to be portrayed as <3 no wonder this ended up to be my pfp :D though in the future i will probably drop the bunny ears and go more in the lamia direction with scale patches and pointy ears :3

This one i am super proud of! This little lesbian ball of general distrust is Sunako! She is one of my most fleshed out characters i use for text RP's. She does come of kinda harsh and distant at first, but if you show her that you mean no harm, she can be the sweetest thing... she only became a succubus recently and hates that she cant hide her enjoyment of certain things that well anymore... because of the tail wagging... She is still struggling coming to terms with her new nature as a succubus... not really wanting to feed on life energy and fearing the day she ends up eating a soul... Something her instincts will drive her towards though... And yes, very obviously, her outfit is inspired by Helltaker! Never played the games myself but i REALLY enjoy their clothing style <3

So yeah, really enjoy the time i have spent here on tumblr so far! Even though this account had been created quite some years ago... i never really thought about using it for anything... which is going to change! Since i really do enjoy drawing art.. but because of my fear of never being good... i usually end up frustrated quickly while drawing and just stop and mope about it... though i hope keeping this account alive and drawing my own Lamia HRT comic (which honestly super excites me and i have already so many things planned for it~)

will help me become a better artist and finally be able to draw all these cool ideas that keep popping in my head!! If any of you ever wanna chat, my DM's and asks are always open, and i will try to get back as fast as possible ^~^

#transgender #transfem #trans woman #trans artist #lgbt art #lqbtqia #trans #digital art #my artwork

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prince-liest · 7 months ago

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I finally had a minute to sit down and give this the reply it properly deserves, so: EFFUSIVE FEELINGS UNDER THE CUT! <3 I'M USING THE HEAD WINGS AND HALO AND EYE PATTERN FOREVER!!

I've said this before and I've said it again, but the head wings are just the most fun thing to me, and I particularly just really love all the concept sketched you have of them. The way that the middle wings' folded silhouette looks like the original bob cut (plus the adorable ponytail vibe of the smallest wing set) while the top wings replace the little feather antennae is, like, really impressive to me because it's a concept that completely preserves the original aesthetic while also adding like three extra layers of awesomeness. They're expressive! They have more eyeballs on them! The sketch in particular where Tzafael is chatting with Rosie and has to lift a wing to let her close enough to whisper in their ear sent me in the best way possible, as did the headshot where all their head wings are flared open in shock and confusion. I genuinely fucking adore the head wings so much. On top of that, the comment you made about the original Biblical purpose of the head wings (to cover the face as a sign of humility) vs the way that Tzafael wears them without doing that is extremely on point, because a lot of Tzafael's whole thing in hell is leaning into Pride.

I also REALLY love the halo actually being shaped like a drawing of an eye, as well as the way you drew the actual eyes on their face. The large lower lashes and sleepy angle while maintaining a sort of look of superiority was your goal and you nailed itttttt (and also I think it's very very fitting)!!!

I'm honestly 100% adopting every single change you made about their head/face/halo to be canon if that is okay with you, hahaha.

Other shorter misc thoughts:

You're correct, they would definitely wear a skirt sometimes, and it would absolutely be as part of a little sweater vest outfit. For all that they've left heaven, they are, fundamentally, still kind of the trust fund kid.

Genuinely love how you did the pearlescence for the magpie feather colors, I think it captures the aesthetic SO well!!

Can't believe you accidentally clocked my years-long life-consuming Loki phase from high school. Ow.

RIB EYEBALLS VERY COOL. GIVING THEM TAILFEATHERS IN SOME OF THE CONCEPTS ALSO VERY COOL.

Absolutely delighted that you did some exorcist-era concept sketches, those are going to live on in my heart forever.

The drawing where they are chuckling and all of their floating eyes are also curved up in amusement: IMPECCABLE.

The fish purse DID deserve some doodles!! It's fucking cute!! It makes expressions!!!!

It's funny that you drew them lording their bit of height over Alastor because another friend of mine has a Hazbin OC as well and we had an extensive conversation about how Tzafael is absolutely that tall asshole friend that will lean their elbow on their shorter friends' heads. Extremely character accurate.

And they WILL infodump at length on Angel Dust for as long as he sits still (and possibly a while after that) about proper aquarium keeping and fish husbandry, and be so so so proud about it, hahaha. Let them set you up a persona fish tank in your room, Angel Dust. IT'LL BE SIMPLE, ANGEL DUST. THEY'LL PAY FOR IT, ANGEL DUST.

Honestly everything on the Situations page made me very happy <3

Anyway I know I keep sucking us into a cycle of mutual thanking but I just wanted to say thank YOU again RIGHT BACK AT YOU for sharing your thoughts on this process and genuinely brightening my day so so much! I want you to know that I actually first saw this post at 2:15am when my roommate woke me up by slamming the bathroom door and having a long phone conversation in there and this post made me feel like 95% less murderous about it. Truly magical.

I finally finished the piece for @prince-liest's OC, Tzafael! this really reminded me of how fun character design is (and also that I've completely forgotten how to make digital art, but that's besides the point...) <3

credit to @hogbogglerspirits for the umbrella design! I kind of butchered it so please look at the original and throw lots of love at them

LOTS of notes, draft sketches, brainstorming, etc. below the cut. enjoy!

(note: a lot of what I'm talking about is based on posts prince made under their #tzafael tag, so take a look at those if you haven't yet!)

thanks for joining me below the cut! here's the sketch without the colors as a treat (in case you want to color it yourself or something, idk).

notes about making the digital drawing:

holy shit this took me forever -- I was not kidding about forgetting how to make digital art lmao. I forgot how much less forgiving digital lines are and genuinely lost the spoons to even attempt lineart, hence just a sketch below the colors.

some of you might've seen the original sketch I sent to prince, which the digital version diverges from just a little. it's mostly the halo which I'll explain later, and I finally caved and drew the sixth eye (you can tell I drew and erased it multiple times in the sketch lmao -- still don't know if I prefer it with or without)

here's the original color ref by the lovely @gendermeh! my color scheme ended up looking really different, so some notes about that:

I was looking at references for magpies like this

and I wanted to basically follow that color scheme while also being somewhat similar to the original -- dark head/shoulders --> dark top of the jacket, bright blue wings --> bright blue bottom of the jacket, greenish tailfeathers --> green pants, hints of purple --> purplish sleeve and pant ends

I also tried (and mostly failed, let's be real) to capture the iridescence of the feathers -- they look like oil spilled on the pavement or iridescent hematite to me! I think the key ended up being adding bright greens/purples and roughly blending them into the blues or vice versa but I didn't really figure that out until I got to the pants lol.

I'm gonna be honest; I don't remember why I went with this shape for the tailcoat. I just remember being unhappy with the sketch and then trying a bunch of different shapes that mostly looked worse lol -- I think I landed on this because a split tail kind of looks like wings?

KEPT the shoes -- absolutely magnifique. I wish I knew how to color gold better.

added lots of jewelry! they like shiny things :)

ALSO PLEASE LOOK AND APPLAUD ME. I FINALLY REMEMBERED TO LABEL MY LAYERS!! NO I DON'T REMEMBER WHY THE HALO HAS ITS OWN LAYER.

alright, time for some more design notes/explanations + draft sketches!

but first, a couple disclaimers:

I want to make it very clear that I LOVE everything about the original design. I made a lot of changes based on personal preference/the way I interpreted the character. I was actually planning on making a digital piece that was more faithful to the original design too, but I was just out of spoons for it cause of life stuff.

you probably shouldn't try to read the notes I made in the sketches I'm about to show you unless I say otherwise. most of it is incoherent brain vomit in illegible artist handwriting and I'll transcribe/explain the stuff I think is important :) (the stuff in quotes are direct transcriptions of my notes)

I know my sketches are very messy lol. I only draw for fun, so I usually don't force myself to make stuff any neater than necessary unless it's supposed to be a formal piece. try to bear with me.

my first few sketches of them! (I think?) this was before I sent prince a laundry list of questions so I was still trying to get a vibe

"magpie -- beak lips?" -- you'll see this in a few sketches; I considered giving them the lipstick design that velvette has since it looks like a beak. I still kind of think it's cute, but 1) I'm pretty sure velvette is the only character that has them, so I didn't want to make it seem like they were related somehow and 2) I thought it might be distracting with how much other crazy stuff I ended up including in their head/face

also, sidenote since it's relevant to what I said about vel: something I realized was important is how one character's design relates to the designs of the rest of the cast. I wasn't sure how much I should've gone for what looked good in a vacuum, how much should be based on what other characters looked like canonically, or what other characters would look like if I also designed them. it ended up being mostly the second option, but it was honestly still a struggle. should I take away some of the tumblr-sexyman-ness (no shade to tumblr sexymen; I love them) because there are other characters that already have it? should I relate their design to sera's and emily's in the show or should I think about how I would've designed sera and emily? should I follow some of the design philosophy of the original show and just throw stuff on there because it looks cool (the answer is yes btw)? decisions, decisions ...

I don't think this showed up really well in most of the drawings, but they actually have a black line down their nose! let's take a look at sera:

since they're siblings, I wanted to include some similar facial markings. the nose line ended up being the only thing I kept though -- I was going to include freckles, but I have a compulsive need to give every character giant bottom lashes so there ended up being no room T.T I like that the magpie's hints of purple kind of match hers tho!

the wingification of the hair begins! I was still unsure of it at this point, but it was an idea I had since I was kind of struggling with how straight the feathers were in the original.

"maybe the ones on their head count as wings (so only one main pair)" -- I originally just had the 2 pairs of wings on their head, so I was thinking of just giving them 1 pair on their back so there would be still be 6 total. also this middle drawing of them is meant to be their exorcist outfit (I wanted it to be a cross between what the other exorcists wear and sera's outfit)

at this stage, I was thinking of giving them more magpie-like characteristics, so I looked at some references and tried to emulate them in a more human design. this ended up being really awkward so I scrapped it, but I still like the idea that their exorcist mask looks like a bird (kind of like a plague doctor's)

peekaboo! I love the idea of them using the wing hair to cover their eyes lol. (ended up using that idea for my own seraph OC since that's their biblically accurate purpose: to cover their eyes/faces in reverence/humility -- doesn't really fit with tzafael tho lol, so they show their face most of the time)

an eyeball in the bowtie -- pretty self-explanatory. the eyeball motif is important.

the one in the middle is just me practicing drawing the original design, and the one on the right is another exorcist outfit I think. I wanted to include the diamond motif/points that sera has on her dress (the diamonds on the bottom turn into eyeballs, which is why the final design also has eyeballs on tzafael's sleeves/pants)

lots of notes on the side based on what prince said in response to my ask

"localized omniscience (power of sight) -- cool + ironic that their sight was supposed to serve God but made them see Heaven for what it really is instead"

another exorcist outfit, this time including the feathers

I was also experimenting with the halo; I was trying to make it look sort of like sera's crown, but that didn't feel right ...

some practice with eyes -- my style is pretty flexible with eye shapes, so I try to make them suit the character. I drew lute's eye and also an actual magpie's as references -- lute's because of the exorcist background and also because they looked appropriately sharp, magpie's for obvious reasons. once again, my compulsive need for giant bottom lashes strikes

there was honestly a lot to balance with the eyes -- I wanted them to look condescending/bored (lowered top lid) but also amused (raised bottom lid) and like a magpie (round) but also harsh/mischievous (sharp, maybe slit pupils like a snake) and similar to sera's (but not too decorated -- also does it make sense for them to look like sera's if emily's don't even look like sera's?)

considered having wings on the shoulders -- the magpie pattern is super cool, so it would've been nice to have that somewhere more explicitly in the design. I still think that might fit in an outfit they would wear in heaven (maybe for formal occasions)

the introduction of the sweatervest! honestly I kind of love this for the way it captures more of the preppy, spoiled old-money upper-class vibe some heaven residents have, but it was scrapped since I couldn't imagine them wearing that while trying to scare the denizens of hell. maybe something they wear casually though.

"yes nictating membrane (on every eye!)" -- AHH I'm so sad I didn't end up putting this to use. I just feel like the whole effect is based on actually seeing them blink, and I don't animate lol.

ugh, the nefarious laughter one ... don't worry I tried harder on a sketch later on lol.

"like the diamonds on Sera + Em" + "diamonds turn into eyes?" -- I draw the diamonds on the sweatervest turning into eyes later.

tried an actual bow instead of a bowtie -- very cute but didn't fit the vibe.

a skirt! I think they would wear a skirt sometimes.

"FUCK ASS BOB" -- asghdk the wingification of the hair continues. unfortunately, I'm realizing at this point that the silhouette of the hair is starting to look a lot like alastor's. I gave a very half-hearted attempt at mitigating this, but it goes back to the thing of how much I am obligated to the original show's designs and what looks cool to me -- I think the wing hair fits them and I didn't want to change it because of alastor, plus my alastor design actually has completely different hair anyway. I did add a third pair to the back to look like a ponytail though.

introduction of the scarf! I was actually going to include this in the final design but uh,,, I forgor. are you starting to see a pattern.

the reason for the scarf is that the "tzafael going to places they know they'll draw attention/can incite chaos" reminded me of that scene in avengers where loki walks into a fancy building looking pretentious af and just casually stabs a guy's eye out. not really the same thing but I felt like the vibe matched. hence, loki's funny little scarf fit.

uaoughdfjh it was SO FUN to draw the wing hair, and it was at this point that I realized they had to stay even though I wasn't sure if it was too different from the original.

gossiping with rosie cause that's the first person I thought of -- tzafael also summoned a pearl necklace to clutch because of the sheer drama of it all (your ex-husband did what??)

also started drawing the rings on their hands. magpie like shiny.

lots of notes cause I was trying to compile the things I still needed to think about/incorporate into the final (I thought this was gonna be the last draft ... haha)

trying to include more bird/eye motifs

"fish ... purse?" -- ha! I forgot I was gonna give them a fish purse. I think I drew that in a later sketch, but not them wearing it.

"picked up Hellish traits bc of extended stay -- existential crisis?" -- I asked prince about the sharp teeth, and their answer implied that they became sharp as they stayed in hell longer, which got me thinking ... I feel like that's actually a great body horror concept. lucifer falling and looking like a normal angel at first, eventually waking up to more and more devilish features and feeling more and more like he's lost his home and his past self ... spooky.

another exorcist outfit -- I actually really like the eyes on the ribs! I never made a final draft for the exorcist uniform, but it would probably look close to what I drew here.

the one on the bottom was meant to be similar to the feathered shoulder pad idea, but this time with the whole magpie (with giant eyes). tried putting the "freckles" (really just dots in this case) over their brows, but that ended up looking kinda weird.

the eye is pretty close to the final design

the one on the right was supposed to be the full final design, but I was totally off lol -- the long trench coat really doesn't give off the right vibe at all

playing around more with the loki vibes of the scarf, also added an eyeball to the chest

I never got happy with the design of the back of the coat -- I think it should probably just be blank at this point. but the sketch here is meant to look like wings/tailfeathers.

yet another exorcist outfit, this time with more magpie motifs. I actually like this one a lot, but I probably should've added the eyes on the ribs from the last sketch. I think I also considered giving them actual tailfeathers at this point.

thanks for sticking with me! I promise we're almost done. have a trans dinosaur I saw while I was travelling as a treat <3

10:

this is after I finished the sketch for the final piece and realized I didn't like the halo design. I drew lute's, sera's, em's, and adam's as refs. (honestly I love the show's idea that each person/people of each rank have a different kind of halo -- I wonder if they can switch them out?)

my main inspiration ended up being the exorcist halo, but I made it look more like an eyeball -- since it always points toward heaven, we can say it's always "looking" at heaven.

(also sera's feather lashes! they're so cute)

11:

EVEN MORE EXORCIST DOODLES

12:

tzafael shooing away my fox demon OC

13:

these are actually sketches for my own seraph OC (raguel), but I wanted to include it since it has even more wing/feather hair variations. I also think the idea of the eyelashes being feather-like could've been cool for tzafael.

14:

some more OG design doodles

tzafael and raguel together because self-indulgence is the name of the game babey (also wanted to draw tzafael freaked out with their wings flared)

(raguel's blind btw, hence asking for eyes -- tzafael has so many!)

you can probably read the dialogue here so give it a shot. I believe in you.

15:

you know what? the fish purse deserves some doodles

16:

putting them in Situations! I was reading over prince's posts again and I realized there were some funny things I could draw them doing/saying

again you can probably read the words here

angel dust also loves fish (but is apparently bad at taking care of them, hence the suffocating blobfish), so tzafael shows him their aquarium (complete with live fish and flora ofc)

I thought alastor was 8 ft but apparently he's 7.3 ft? so tzafael is enjoying the .2 ft they have on him

trying and failing again to come up with a design for the back of the jacket lol

THE crowley quote

apparently the halo still sends signals from the exorcists -- thought their reaction to the battle at the hotel would be funny

the nefarious laughter (take 2) that I promised -- based on a doodle of alastor viv did that I found

them being sad and curling up in a pile of shiny things like a dragon

OKAY I'M DONE. huge, huge thank you to prince for sharing their OC! this was a lot of fun and clearly inspired me a lot haha. please check out their writing; it's literally so good that I can't read anything else these days. I am chewing on their thoughts constantly.

this was an absolute monster of a post, so if you're still reading, I am both impressed and bewildered at your patience. I hope you enjoyed! (I certainly did!)

#my ocs #tzafael #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #velvet-games #fic art #tl;dr: aaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA <3

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sucrate · 2 years ago

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GOAT ! [Audience Cheers And Claps]

#moshlyart #rb this or DIE INSTANTLY !!!!!#goat !! goat my beloved !!!#made her ears way shorter in the first drawing </3 #but alas ... here he is ..#she is my gorgeous ... my pride and joy ..... and a mistake from math class . if any of u remember . Tch . you will adore him #anyways.ziplining and AlsoTrampoline Parking you knwo.#Bye #oc #goat (dragon) (dog) (cow)#digital art #i.dont remember her original name actually . i think i call her clem for short

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esparafuso · 2 years ago

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Monday, November 7th, 2022

Dear Diary, where do I even begin. Perhaps saying I still can't believe I saw my favourite band performing live for the first time.

I'm an anxious person and shows always seemed so far away from me, from where I lived and from what I thought I'd have the guts of attending. If it wasn't for my friend Lya (@/sorethpid) I'd perhaps still be dreaming about how cool it would be if I lived the same experience I keep seeing others have for years and years.

In an impulse, we bought tickets for Primavera Sound 2022 happening in São Paulo. It wasn't cheap, but both of us had savings and were crazy enough to spend it on a ticket and flight tickets and a hotel room.

We live in different states, so it was thrilling to meet her again (third time personally), as we met on the internet 6 years ago here on tumblr, two artists drawing Arctic Monkeys fanart and rambling to the other about our favourite things about them, and our favourite album, and how much we wish we had the chance of hearing them live.

It happened on Saturday, November 5th. Her first festival, my first show ever in life, we got to the place and tried to keep it cool among all the stylish people around. It was okay though, we were just happy to be there. We decided to buy two donuts (we admittedly didn't plan food very well, too anxious to get to the place already) and after a couple stops we headed to the stage to take a look, but decided to stay there already when we saw the narrow place and the realisation that soon the whole thing would be packed w ppl hit us (later on, we saw we would better had stopped by a nearby bathroom for Lya, but okay)

The gig would start at 10pm, and we were there at 4:30pm. We got to know the music of a sweet artist called Helado Negro, which we supported and danced along even not knowing the lyrics. One hour and a half break, and then came Interpol. I personally didn't listen to the band much, but they kicked ass and made everyone super pumped and jumpy (myself included). Another one hour and a half before AM.

Gigs aren't kind to shorter ppl, we learned that. We tried our best to adjust and see the stage (which was actually way closer than we expected to get) and managed with some struggle. Our boots were also a literal pain, and I don't remember feeling my feet hurting this bad in my life, to the point I had to keep dancing to keep the pain manageable - only forgotten when an artist was performing. Especially the ones we were dying to see more.

Seeing the stage being set up made us already excited. Matt's golden drumkit, Nick's bass, Alex's and Jamie's guitars going through the soundproof, curtains being set on the back of the stage - we saw THREE regular sized disco balls being brought up when Interpol's stage was being set, and we knew who they belonged to, and yet they didn't make it to the final thing for AM.

After 3 false alarms, here they come. Screams ringing in my ear, I saw those four men (plus two) walk into my sight of vision and I can't even describe how I felt. They quickly assumed positions and the heavy synth of Sculptures resonated from the speakers - the The Car song we were more hopeful they would perform (we didn't even know they had played it before in Rio).

the photos really aren't the strongest bcs of how overwhelmed I was and the little space in my phone (another thing I forgot to prepare properly, like an idiot)... some recordings didn't go through, like Potion approaching, which made me sad but at least I got some :'D

I wish I could put here what my eyes saw, because I could see their FACIAL FEATURES from where I was, which was unbelievable close in my book. I managed to save the recording of Pretty Visitors, really hoping to get my beloved Agile Beast's crazy good drumming

I recorded another for Do Me a Favour, my favourite Arctic Monkeys song, where I kept shaking from crying but can't upload here pls of Tumblr's limit of videos in a post.

The whole time I sang and danced and screamed and cried, I just kept repeating in my head that they were real people, they existed, they weren't a fever dream or a gif or a video I saw on the internet, they were living humans right in front of me, and up until now I can't wrap my head around the fact I stood so close to them. I listened to them sing and play a few meters away from me, I could feel Matt's drums resonating in my heart, I saw Nick on the side looking SO soft, Jamie being the closest one, doing his little quirks and hops, Alex singing and dancing and. being a goofie, Matt playing and singing and making me absolutely lose it.

Even now typing all this makes me cry becasue I know I will never forget this experience. I just love and appreciate this band so much. I'm not the fan that knows all the lyrics of ALL songs yet, and I don't have their physical merch and albums, and this was only the first time I saw them live, but they hold a very special and meaningful place in my life that I will never forget.

The crowd overall was amazing, we sang everything they put out, screamed our lungs out and clapped and threw our hands in the air and pleaded them to come back. They waved to everyone and Alex threw us many kisses, and I hope they enjoyed their night as much as we basked in their presence.

Leaving the festival was very difficult due to bad logistics, my feet were incredibly sore, it was super cold outside and hundreds of ppl couldn't get a ride back home for the life of us - but we managed. And even then, when we arrived at the hotel, the only memory in our minds was their presence and their music still buzzing in our heads and hearts.

I hope we will have the chance of going to another one - we sure are thirsty for more now that we saw that it IS possible to see them live - but until then: Thank you Monkeys for this unforgettable night, and for existing and making us feel such strong emotions with your amazing music and journey as a band overall.

P.s.: thank you also whoever recorded the gig properly, because then we can see everything we lived in another, high definition angle, for the rest of our lives.

#arctic monkeys #the car #the car era #AM7 #Primavera Sound #long posts #my memories #my first gig!!!#Arctic Monkeys exist and are living breathing people #I'm still so fucking emotional and stunned #thank you for everything

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raewritez · 3 years ago

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Enough | Sokka

based on this request: You want requests? I have an idea/request if you don't mind and are still accepting them, if not I’m sorry. Maybe “friends to lovers/teammates to lovers” where Reader joins the team from Ba Sing Se and while they’re preparing for the invasion, or beyond, Sokka and Reader fall in love, or start to fall in love? I hope that makes sense. Thanks! Your writing is all wonderful! <3

word count: 3.6k

The last thing you'd expected was for the Avatar to break into your house.

You'd been upstairs in your room when you'd heard a ruckus from down below, drawing you to your feet with nervousness and light footsteps. Who was it, burglars? You made your way down the stairs, body pressed against the wall. You heard muffled whispering.

"We can't just break into random houses, Sokka!"

"Well, what else are we supposed to do?! Do you have any better ideas?"

Silence.

"That's what I thought, Aang. Just trust the process."

You peered over the corner, catching sight of the intruders. A boy, a bit shorter than you, stood awkwardly in the corner of your living room. He was dressed in yellow and orange robes, his head decorated with a blue arrow. Huh. Beside him, pulling the curtain back cautiously to scan outside, was a boy seemingly about your age. He was tall, tan skin and dark hair, dressed in a sleeveless blue tunic. You didn't peg these guys as particular threats, so you stepped down.

"Uh, hello?"

They spun around with a yelp, assuming defensive positions. The taller boy held something in his hand - a boomerang? He narrowed his eyes at you.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded.

"Um, this is my house? Who are you?"

He lowered his arm, glancing around sheepishly. "Oh, uh, sorry. We needed to hide."

You raised an eyebrow. "Hide? Hide from who?"

The younger boy spoke up. "The Dai Li."

You furrowed your brows. "The Dai Li?" You questioned, confused. "Why would you need to hide from them? Did you, like, break the law?"

The older boy crossed his arms. "What? No!"

"Then why are you hiding?"

"Because they're after us!"

"Why would they be after you if you didn't break the law?"

"Because!" He was flailing his arms now, and you almost chuckled with amusement. "They - they're bad guys!"

You looked at him flatly. "That sounds like something a criminal would say."

He groaned. "Ugh, ok, ok. Once we know they're gone, we'll leave."

"Are you sure? I was gonna invite you for some tea and cookies," you teased. He glances back, as if seeing if you were serious, before turning back grumpily.

The younger boy scratches his head awkwardly. "Um, anyway, thanks for not kicking us out. I'm Aang."

You chuckle. "Yeah...no problem. I'm Y/n." You aren't quite sure why you're having a conversation with the guys who just broke into your house, but they seem nice enough. The older one's a little grouchy, but for some reason you feel safe.

Aang smiles brightly. "Nice to meet you. This is Sokka," he says, nudging his shoulder.

Sokka glances back at you. "Hey." You offer him a wave.

"So...why are you hiding in my house?"

Aang glances at Sokka, and it seems like a silent argument passes between them. Sokka shakes his head, Aang gives him an imploring look, and Sokka glares. Then he throws his hands up, mumbles a "Fine", and Aang turns back to you with a grin.

"Well, you see, I'm the Avatar," Your eyes grow wide. "And we're trying to get some important information to the Earth King. But the Dai Li don't want us to, so they're kinda chasing us."

"You're the Avatar?" You breathe. He nods cheerfully. "Wait - so, why are the Dai Li chasing you? Shouldn't they be helping?"

"Yeah, they should," Sokka says. "But they decided to, you know, not."

You're confused. The Dai Li are the highest level of protection for the people of Ba Sing Se. Why wouldn't they help the Avatar? You look around the room, spotting the closet near the door. An idea pops into your head.

"I can help." They both turn to you, looking skeptical. "I mean I can help you get out. Without being noticed."

They look at each other, hold their gaze, then turn to you and nod.

///

"I look ridiculous."

You stifle a laugh, taking in Sokka's appearance. "I think you look great. And it'll help you get by unnoticed, so that's what matters."

He's dressed in your father's trench coat, a heavy, brown beast of a thing that's so long it pools at his ankles. He's also sporting a dashing top-hat; the brim so wide it effectively shelters his face. He glares.

Aang comes bouncing in, dressed in a hooded cape that provides coverage for his tattoo. He stops short when he sees Sokka, doubling over in laughter. "Oh, you look great, Sokka."

Sokka groans, slumping over. "Let's just get out of here."

You lead them out the front door, scanning the road for any sign of threats. You step out, the boys following in tow, and walk as confidently as you can past the agents lining the street. Eventually, you successfully make it out of the middle ring. Sokka immediately sheds his disguise.

"Well, here you go," you say, looking around. Although only one ring above you, the Upper Ring is much nicer than you're used to. "Good luck with the Earth King."

Aang's eyes grow wide. "Wait! You should...you should come with us!"

You tilt your head. "Come with you where?"

"Back to our place! You could meet our friends!" He nudges Sokka, who appears disinterested. "Right, Sokka?"

Sokka's eyes snap to yours. "Oh, uh, sure. I guess."

You're about to politely decline, but Aang is staring at you so hopefully that you can't turn him down. You smile softly. "Sure, Aang."

"Awesome! Let's go."

You're led through the cobblestone pathways, eyes trailing after ornate carriages and towering buildings. Soon, you reach their house. The home of the Avatar. Sokka walks up and turns the knob, jumping back in surprise. In front of him stands a girl, not much younger than you, with her hands on her hips and her eyes bright with anger.

"Where have you been?!" She demands, dragging him inside by his collar. "We've been worried sick! I mean, you didn't even leave a note, didn't say anything-"

"We're sorry, Katara," Aang intervenes, hands raised in peaceful greeting. "We got caught up."

It's then that her eyes fall on you, gaze softening into uncertainty. She looks at Sokka expectantly.

"Oh!" He exclaims, stepping back and gesturing towards you. "This is Y/n. She helped us get away from the Dai Li."

The girl, Katara as she'd been called, offered you a slight smile of gratitude. "Thank you for helping my idiot brother."

You chuckled, grinning at the look of betrayal Sokka gave the girl. "It was no problem."

She nodded, extending her arm. "Do you want to come in?"

You glanced towards Aang, who was smiling excitedly. "Oh, yeah, sure."

You stepped inside, feeling a bit awkward. You didn't really understand why Aang wanted you to come so badly, but it was a kind gesture nonetheless. You scanned the interior; emerald walls adorned with gold plating that was probably more expensive than your whole apartment. You fidgeted your fingers, standing by while Katara and Sokka bickered about responsibility. A slam startled you out of your thoughts.

"Who's this?" A girl stepped out of the - hole? Yeah, hole, she'd just kicked a hole in the wall. Katara paused her lecture.

"Toph, this is Y/n. She helped Sokka and Aang with the Dai Li."

"Cool." She yawned, walking past you and plopping on the couch.

"We need to get to the Earth King," Sokka said, assuming a demeanor of focus and determination. "If the Dai Li aren't going to help us get to him, we'll have to do it ourselves." He briefly explained his plan, something about breaking into the fancy party that was happening later that night. They came up with roles, with guidelines for what each person should do, working together like a well-oiled machine. You felt out of place, you didn't know what your purpose was here. Aang turned to you, smiling softly.

"Y/n, you in?"

You stared. You couldn't comprehend the reason this boy had so much faith in you, the reason these kids were so willing to let you in on their scheme after just meeting you less than an hour ago. You didn't understand why you trusted them, either. You smiled.

"I'm in."

///

That was your first mistake.

When you'd agreed to break into an Earth Kingdom party with the Avatar, you didn't think you'd end up having to flee your home. You sat upon Appa's back, knees pulled to your chest as Ba Sing Se grew smaller. Sokka was steering, and the rest had their heads tucked into their hands. Except for Aang, who was lying unconscious next to Katara.

You'd remained in the city with Katara as the rest of the group separated, happy to spend some time with your newfound friend. It was then that things got messy; you found out the Fire Nation had infiltrated the government, the local tea-boy was actually a banished prince, and you found yourself in the crystal catacombs as a battle went on around you. You'd been there with Zuko and Katara, and you weren't sure exactly what'd gone down between them but it was obviously something serious, and you'd been there as he joined his sister - Azula. She was pretty scary.

You fought the best you could, your unpracticed earth-bending not doing much damage against the Dai Li agents, before Aang was struck by Azula's lightning. Now, you sat atop his sky-bison, mind racing and body numb from the shock of it all. You were in way over your head.

The five of you met up with Sokka and Katara's dad after dropping off the Earth King, because, you know, he was just casually there, too, boarding a Fire Nation ship as a means of disguise. Sokka introduced you to his father, Hakoda, who welcomed you with a warm smile and a firm handshake.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/n. Sokka's told me a lot about you. You two must really get along well," he said when Sokka was out of ear reach, voice laced with mirth. You flushed when you registered what he was implying; the mischief gleaming in his eyes. You frantically tried to put a sentence together.

"Oh, we're not - he doesn't...I mean we do, but not like-" He cut you off with a chuckle and a friendly pat to your shoulder.

"I'm just teasing. Come on, let's join the others."

You sat with your friends and the Water Tribesmen aboard the steely deck, huddling with Toph and Sokka for warmth. Katara went downstairs to heal Aang, who had yet to wake. Your meals mainly consisted of rice as it was too risky to stop and buy more supplies. You were still dressed in your Earth Kingdom clothes; green-tinted pants and a tunic, feet clad in worn-down boots. Not ideal for posing as a Fire Nation soldier.

You were still in shock, you supposed, at how quickly things changed and how fiercely your life was ripped from you. I mean, just a few days ago you were a normal kid living in the middle ring of Ba Sing Se, where nothing remotely exciting ever happened. Then, the Avatar and his friend had broken into your house and now everything was different. You weren't upset, it was just a lot to process. You were worried for Aang and a bit overwhelmed at the reality that seemed to be your new friends' normal. So when everyone else returned to their rooms for sleep, you made your way to the overlook.

The moon beamed down over the sea - ivory light caressing the waves and kissing the surface. You breathed deeply, inhaling the cool night air that smelled of salt-water and a freedom you'd never experienced. You sat there, slightly chilly from the cold, when a warm presence took place by your side.

You glanced up, seeing Sokka's skin glowing under the starlight. Woah, had he always been this pretty? It was probably just the moon...that and your sleep deprivation. Yeah, that was it.

"What're you doing up?" He questioned, eyes cast out to the horizon. His hair was loose from its usual ponytail - wolf-tail, as he'd passionately pointed out to you days earlier - the dark locks flowing freely about his face. You tore your eyes away, following his stare.

"Just couldn't sleep," you glanced over. "You?"

He sighed, leaning against the metal. "Me neither. Just worried."

You turned to face him, face softening into concern. "About what?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "About Aang. About the Earth Kingdom...just...everything."

You moved closer, resting your forearms against the edge of the ship. He pressed his shoulder against yours.

"I get it. I am, too. Everything that's happening is just...crazy. There's no way I could've even imagined it."

Sokka tilted his head towards you, blue eyes glimmering with compassion and softness. "Yeah...how are you doing? I haven't really asked, I mean, this must be kinda shocking for you."

You snorted, nodding your head. "Well, yeah. But it's ok. I'm not the one who has it worst right now."

"Sure, but you can still talk about it. You can talk to me...if you want."

You smiled up at him, his face shadowed by the abyss of the night. "Thanks."

He offered you a grin before staring up at the sky. "You know, that's my first girlfriend," he said, pointing at the moon.

"The moon?" He nodded. "That's...rough."

///

It was finally here. The day of Black Sun.

You'd be lying if you said you felt totally prepared, but with some rigorous earth bending lessons from Toph and sparring with Sokka, you felt more confident in your abilities.

A finger poked your cheek. "Hey, are you listening?"

You glanced at Sokka's teasing grin, scratching the back of your neck sheepishly. "Uh...yes?"

"Really," he said, moving to stand in front of you. "What did I say?"

"Something about...food?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "It's ok, I'll tell you later." He looked behind him, taking in the sight of the preparing fighters and looming submarines. He took your hand in his. "Are you ready for this?"

You sigh, squeezing his fingers between your own. "Ready as I'll ever be."

He smiles down at you, and the look in his eyes is pure adoration. He reaches to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "You know, I'm glad I broke into your house."

You snort, swatting his hand away. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks a lot, nerd."

He chuckles. "Hey, I know you're glad, too. Otherwise, you never would've met me and would've been miserable and bored your whole life."

You laugh, but it's probably true. You and Sokka had grown much closer over the past weeks, days spent in playful conversation and evening strolls, in play-wrestling and heads rested on shoulders. You were the one he came to when his mind was troubled, when his energy was too spent to conjure any jokes. Yeah, you were glad, too.

You were called into the submarines - Sokka's invention, something you were unfathomably proud of - and off you went. Into the Fire Nation. Your arrival went mostly smoothly, disregarding the few punctures in the submarine walls, and you ran out of the carrier with the earth at your fingertips. Aang had flown off to fight the Fire Lord, and it was up to the rest of you to deal with everyone else. Your heart pumped loudly, blood rushing in your ears and adrenaline flowing in your veins. You raised your arms, summoning the ground upwards to knock out a few soldiers.

"Y/n!"

You turned around just in time to see Katara swoop down on Appa, Sokka and Hakoda climbing up with her. "Come on!" she yelled. "We're going to take out the soldier's battlements."

You nodded, running towards the bison and pulling yourself atop the saddle with help from Sokka. Appa lifts off, reaching between the battlements.

"Katara and I will take the one on the right," Hakoda said, his voice one of a true commander. "Sokka and Y/n, the left. Let's go."

You climb the battlement, hoisting yourself inside through the window before scanning the room. Pointed outwards is a sort of cannon, aimed perfectly towards the group of fire benders that were advancing towards your friends. You step forward, trying to figure out the mechanics while Sokka climbs in. "Oh-ho," he says, taking note of the projection of the cannon. "This thing is just begging to be fired."

You nodded, toying with the controls. Sokka stepped behind you. "Here, I'll show you."

He placed his palm over your hand, guiding it to where it needed to be. From his pocket he pulled a match - where did that come from, anyway? - and nudged it between your fingers. "Light it up, Sunshine."

You place the tip to the ignition, Sokka aiming the cannon. He pulls you back against him, arms wound tightly around your waist, and you cover your ears. The canon booms, sending out a flurry of smoke. You rush forward, fearful of the damage you might have just inflicted, breathing out when you see that it only landed between the soldiers and your friends. It didn't hit them, something you were a bit grateful for, but it allowed the fighters to evade the onslaught. Sokka chuckled in your ear.

"Not bad, not bad."

"You did all the work."

"That's not true! You were vital."

You shake your head, fighting off a grin. "Ok, we should probably get rid of this thing now."

"Agreed."

You climb back out the window, jumping onto the ground with a thud. Breathing deeply, you concentrated your mind on the earth that lay below the battlement, and with a flick of your wrist, it crumbled. From the cliffside it fell, effectively ridding you of one other thing to worry about.

Sokka let out a low whistle. "Impressive."

You turned to him, out of breath. He stepped closer, brows knitted in slight concern as he lifted your chin with his knuckles. "Hey, you ok?"

You nodded, swallowing and trying to rewatch your breath. "Yeah, still a little new to this."

His thumb stroked your cheek before he moved his arm, placing it over your shoulders. "Come on, just stay with me."

You did, gladly.

///

So...things didn't exactly go as planned.

It turned out that the Fire Lord knew all along about the invasion, and Aang never had the chance to fight him. You'd come face-to-face with Azula again, something that made your blood boil. You'd had to leave - leaving the adults behind while the kids climbed aboard Appa's saddle. You were all exhausted, slumped over and falling to your knees when you finally reached the Western Air Temple.

You tried to mull your sadness; that guilty feeling that it was you who should've been left behind instead. You knew everyone was hurting - some in ways you couldn't really fathom. Aang felt like he had failed - again - and he went to bed that night with a half-hearted side hug and tired eyes. Toph felt weak, something she hated more than anything in the world. And Sokka and Katara...they'd lost their dad again.

So when you saw Sokka on the mountainside, head held in hands, you felt that he was more important. You plopped down next to him, his eyes snapping up and softening when they laid on you. No words were spoken; they didn't need to be. Instead, he sighed, pressing his cheek against your shoulder. You ran your fingers through his hair, soothing him with your touch. You only halted when he laced your fingers with his own, pulling your hand to his lap and tracing patterns across your skin.

"It's not your fault, Sokka."

He nodded against you, but you heard his sniff. You straightened up, his head begrudgingly lifting from its place against you before you cupped his face with your palm. "It's not," you implored, desperate for him to stop feeling so down on himself. "None of us could've predicted that they knew. And with Azula...she knew what she was doing. None of this is because of you."

He glanced away, blue eyes brimming with the tears he'd fought so hard to keep at bay. He dipped his head in silent acceptance, nuzzling against the warmth of your palm. You smiled sadly.

"It's not over, Sokka. There's still hope, now more than ever. And I know we'll figure it out."

He raised his gaze, and it seemed like his soul was carried in his stare. Slowly, enough so that you thought you imagined it, his eyes drifted down to your lips. He leaned in slowly, bringing his calloused hand to brush back your hair. You were frozen, as if one wrong move would shatter you from this dream. His palm was warm against your cheek, and his nose bumped your own. Your eyes met his, close enough together that it was a bit funny to look at, and he offered you a silent question. You answered with your lips against his.

He breathed against you, fingers carding through your hair. His lips were warm and oh, so soft, and they moved against yours with ease. You wound your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. He was warm, and he was familiar, and he was safe. You pulled apart when your lungs ached for air, peeling your eyes open with effort. He was looking at you, and you were looking at him, and suddenly a grin broke out across his face. He laughed breathily, nudging his head into the crook of your neck. You laughed with him, holding him tight. You sat there together for who knows how long, melted in each other's embrace under the light of the moon. He pressed soft kisses against your neck and whispered thanks into your ears. You responded with a peck to his tanned cheeks. You were right, he knew. It wasn't over. There was time left, and there was hope. Wrapped in your arms, he was sure of that.

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plant-flwrs · 4 years ago

Text

house unity // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: this story has taken me so long and i feel like i’ve poured my blood, sweat, and tears into it. i love it a lot and you can really tell what i was watching/ doing in each sections lol. for example, the dramatic ending is courtesy of the heart wrenching sylvia plath poems i was reading earlier today lol :’) also i made the reader a ravenclaw because im a ravenclaw and i felt like it hehe. n e way! hope you all like it and pls leave feedback if you have any! like, rb, follow <3

summary: Fred Weasley and you have a bit of a love hate relationship, however, on Fred’s behalf its more love than hate. Dating a Ravenclaw would be a great stride in house unity, wouldn’t it?

(disclaimer: when i describe the differences in the twins i mean the actors! especially since she who shall not be named did not give us much about their physical differences >:/ i found the info from fandom.com so it may be wrong, but i went with it. also, i made up a few things for this story, like the annual Christmas ball)

(8.7k)

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You wished you could enjoy some things as easily as your peers could.

You didn’t like most sweets from Honeydukes, you didn’t care for Quidditch, but you especially hated the Weasley twin’s pranks.

In your first year, just weeks after arriving at Hogwarts, you had met Fred and George. You had been unable to answer the riddle to enter the Ravenclaw common room, so you decided to take a walk around the grounds.

You just turned the corner to the courtyard, when a hard snowball hit you square in the face. The sheer force of it made you stumble backyards, and you barely had time to wipe the snow off your face before another one hit you hard in the back. You were unable to keep your balance and tumbled forwards. Your hands braced your fall and scraped against the rough stone harshly. Your palms stained the snow red as they began to bleed. You barely had time to nurse them before another snowball, this time the size of a Quaffle, plummeted onto your head. It pushed you face-first into the snow, and you recovered quicker, not wanting to stay there for any longer. You whirled around, looking for anyone who could have seen who did that. You saw two boys with flaming red hair running away, and you followed them.

You caught them just before they entered the castle, all three of you winded. They were twins.

“Did you see who did that? Was it you?” you had pried, and both of them looked giddy.

“What’d you mean?” the shorter of the two answered immaturely.

The other looked down at your hands and robes, seeing blood still flowing from your palms, and your stained tights. He glanced at his brother, who was still laughing about it all and shoved his shoulder.

“You git,” he mumbled to his brother, “she’s bleeding,” he took your hands in his and tried to wipe some of the blood off, only for it to stain the sleeves of his sweater.

“Oh, gross!” the shorter one exclaimed, backing away from the two of you.

“How did you two do that?” you asked, pulling your hands away from the kinder one.

“Bewitched ‘em,” the short one said arrogantly before his brother could stop him.

“You bewitched them to attack me?” you felt tears stinging your eyes and hoped the taller one wouldn’t notice that too.

“Well, we didn’t mean ‘em to go after you,” the kind one said quickly, trying to rub the blood out of his shirt.

“Yeah, but it was still a laugh,” the shorter one said, nudging his brother’s shoulder good spiritedly.

“Shut up, Fred,” he mumbled, obviously annoyed, “we’re sorry about your hands, we didn’t mean for it to happen, honest.”

Fred watched you silently as you swallowed hard, only able to nod at them, accepting the boys’ apology. You turned on your heal and went to the infirmary, hoping Madam Pomfrey could mend your cuts. You had wiped your tears all the way there.

In your third year, you had been told there would be a Christmas ball. You had been stuffed in a large room with the Gryffindors, and you bumped shoulder to shoulder with a boy who had long dreadlocks.

Professor McGonagall and Flitwick stood in the center of the room, a large record player was next to them.

“As some of you may know, there is an annual Christmas Ball here at Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall explained, looking sharply at the Gryffindors.

“Professor McGonagall and I have a tradition,” Flitwick said, casting a glance at the Ravenclaws, “of holding a class on how to dance properly at these events.”

“Think of it as charity,” McGonagall said devilishly, “we wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourselves.”

Flitwick stifled a laugh and moved his wand to turn on the music. Loud, old-sounding music blared from the ancient device and you looked confused at your teachers.

“Everyone, pair up!”

An awkward haze fell over the room of third years. None of you knew how to talk to the opposite sex, let alone dance with them. You turned to look around you, accidentally making eye contact with the Gryffindor boy with dreads. His eyes widened when they saw yours, and his friends behind you noticed. You looked at his friends, only to see Fred and George Weasley. You rolled your eyes at the two, but their friend was jolted forwards.

He bumped into you, Fred having pushed him lightly on the back.

“Go on Lee!” Fred shouted, laughing loudly.

People were moving to the center of the room in pairs, and Lee looked at you nervously. He held his hand out to you.

“Want to dance?” He asked you shyly.

You took his hand with worry, nervous about the wicked grin the twins had. That grin always worried you.

You let Lee lead you out to the floor, falling in line with everyone else. You both watched McGonagall looking around for a partner for her to demonstrate with.

Fred’s obnoxious laugh cut through the room, and her eyes landed on him.

“Perfect! Mr. Weasley, come be my partner.”

He groaned and moved forwards, his brother laughing loudly. Beside you, Lee had a wide smile.

“Place your hand on my waist,” she said flatly.

“Your what?” he repeated, his eyes going wide.

“My waist, don’t be daft,” she replied, moving his hand to the right place.

It seemed everyone’s cheeks had gone red due to stifled laughter. Lee bumped into you as he doubled over, not trying to contain himself.

In your fifth year, you were made a prefect.

You were hesitant to accept the position, feeling a bit tied down by the prat status that came with the responsibility.

Wearing your slightly dusted badge, you had never polished it like you saw Percy doing every second of his life, you led a group of Ravenclaw first years up the stairs.

“Right this way,” you shouted over their heads, making sure no one got lost.

“Who had the sense to make you a prefect?” Fred taunted, coming up from behind you and flicking your ear.

You moved to swat his hand away, but he had already jumped back.

“Shove off, Fred,” you shot him a glare and turned back to the children, “the stairs can get a bit confusing, so watch your step!”

Fred watched you admirably, noticing the way your voice changed to a sweet sound when you spoke to anyone but him.

“Yeah, watch the stairs!” Fred shouted, pulling you by your elbow onto a new staircase.

The steps moved away from the first years, taking you and Fred to the opposite corridor you wanted to go down. You looked down and realized how close you were to the edge. Without thinking, you grabbed onto Fred’s robes, pulling him closer to you. He tilted forward and nearly lost his balance, which would have sent you both down. He flung his hand out and firmly held onto the railing, suspending the both of you over the edge for a moment before he pulled you back up. You were close to his chest, still holding onto him until the stairs stopped moving. You hadn’t meant to close your eyes, but when you finally opened them you saw your group of first-years looking at you from the other staircase, seeming absolutely terrified.

You leaped from Fred’s embrace, sending him stumbling back a bit. You marched up the stairs to loop back to the first years and heard Fred calling after you.

“Going so soon?” you heard his laugh echoing off the walls of the room.

For most of your life, your interactions with Fred Weasley were that simple. Maybe once a year you two would spit some insults at the other, and be on your way, not to speak to each other until next year.

However, when you walked into your Transfiguration class, late by a few minutes due to your prefect duties, you felt a punch in the gut when you saw flaming red hair.

The punch in the gut was increased tenfold when you saw that the only empty seat was next to the flaming red hair.

Breathing deeply and sending a fake smile his way, you sat uncomfortably next to Fred.

It would have been difficult to tell them apart, but your observant eye had always been able to. Besides a few odd growth spurts they were prone to, George usually came out the taller of the two. Fred also had a small scar on his left eyebrow.

“Oh hello, prefect,” Fred said lazily, drawing back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head.

The bottom of his shirt rose a little and you willed your eyes to not look at the toned bit of stomach that peeked through.

“Weasley,” you said, pulling your textbook out of your bag.

“Looking forward to your new prat duties?”

“More than I’m looking forward to sitting with you,” you pushed your hair behind your ear and out of your eyes, Fred stared at the side of your face.

“Always so charming,” he finally drawled, leaning forwards and tugging his sweater down.

Something about Fred always made you want the last word, the last laugh.

“Only for you, Fred.”

In professor McGonagall’s opinion, Fred Weasley had the littlest appreciation for time of all the students she had taught.

He wasted his time in the common room, in the Great Hall, and in the hallways.

Even during her Transfiguration class.

He was happy to spend his time with what he thought was shamelessly flirting with you, and McGonagall was happy to embarrass him while he did it.

“Mister Weasley?”

Fred turned to look at McGonagall’s severe face. Before he could say any excuse, insisting that you were talking too, she waved her wand at his desk. His book flew open to the right page, and a force that was not his own was pushing his head into the book. His hair fell in front of his face, and you could tell he was fighting against the spell McGonagall was using.

Fred seemed to be tamed by McGonagall after that and didn’t bother you for the rest of the class. On the way out, he held the door open for you. He called out to you in the hallway.

“Good luck with that weird rash, Y/n!” you felt your cheeks burn furiously as laughs sounded off in the hallway. You turned to see Fred watching you walk away, and lifted both of your middle fingers in the air to him.

“So classy!” he called back.

“Shove! OFF!” you yelled, shouting over the now deafening laughter in the hallway.

You were already dreading the upcoming months.

You were right to, for class with Fred did not get any easier.

You traded your thin tights for thicker ones and your light dress shirt for a heavy sweater. Your blue scarf was wrapped tightly around your neck, and you didn’t bother to pin your prefect badge on it these days.

“Miss, y/l/n, you must remember your badge,” McGonagall said as you came into class.

You looked down at your scarf, patting your robes until you felt the metal. Lifting up your scarf and showing the professor the badge underneath it, you gave her a reassuring smile.

She nodded approvingly and waved her hand, you moved to your seat.

Before you could put your things down, Fred was looking at you. You could hear the gears turning in his head, thinking of something presumably rude to say to you.

“Weasley,” you said first, hoping this would inspire him to stop looking at you.

He blinked at you, before smiling and turning back to his textbook.

“Today, we’re going to be learning a vanishing spell,” McGonagall started.

You had already turned to the page before she told it to you, you had read through the entire textbook over the summer.

You heard Fred scoff next to you, but ignored him.

Looking down at the directions in the book, you had remembered your successful attempt at making one of your father’s shoes disappear. He had been so proud of you, he didn’t care that he only had one brown Oxford instead of two.

“How did you do that?” Fred asked, watching as you easily made the rat in front of you vanish.

“Practice,” you said absently, turning your head to look back into the textbook.

Fred began to try the spell himself, his focus on the goblet he had taken from the great hall. He did the right wand movements, but his pronunciation was all wrong. You watched as the spell rebounded off the goblet and hit his tie, making the bottom half of it vanish. His hand flew to his chest, his mouth curved in a disbelieving grin when he didn’t feel the point of his tie.

“Well, bloody hell, that could have been much worse,” he gasped out, pushing his hair off his face and leaning back in his chair.

You couldn’t help the small nervous laugh that escaped your lips, but you were able to stifle it quickly. Fred had noticed your smile and glanced at you, happy to amuse you.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Fred regaining his composure after nearly vanishing himself. You pretended to read your book, but you had already read the page dozens of times. You wanted an excuse to not talk to Fred.

“Ever going to turn the page?” Fred asked from beside you, and you became very aware of his eyes on the side of your face.

“I’m absorbing the information,” you replied flatly, keeping your head in the book to hide your blush.

He laughed, sitting straight in his seat. He seemed to be attempting the spell again. You bit your lip as you watched him practice, wondering if you should correct him so he doesn’t hurt himself.

He had just begun to say the spell when you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait!” he glanced at you and your hand on his shoulder, smirking at you.

“Yes, darling?”

You rolled your eyes and felt the urge to gag. Your face crinkled in disgust and Fred smiled.

“Your pronunciation is wrong.”

“Well go on then,” he said, urging you to continue.

“Evanesco,” you said simply, but Fred’s eyes wrinkled in confusion.

“That’s what I’m saying,” he said, turning back to the goblet but lowering his wand, “Evenesco.”

He had replaced the ‘a’ with an ‘e’ sound, but he hadn’t heard it, you supposed.

“It’s ev-an-es-co,” you said slowly, placing your pronunciation on the ‘an’, “you’re saying ev-en-es-co.”

His eyebrows raised, finally understanding. He repeated it to you slowly, and you nodded your head when he said it right.

He smiled confidently, casting the spell on his goblet. The goblet turned foggy, and Fred could wave his hand through it like it was a ghost.

He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“This is miserable,” he groaned.

You waved your wand and said the verbal part of the spell, finishing off the goblet. It completely disappeared and Fred let out another groan, rolling his head back in annoyance.

“You’re miserable,” he said to you teasingly.

You looked at him through your lashes, your brows furrowed, “Whatever, Fred,” your face grimaced in annoyance, “I’m just trying to help, your welcome, by the way.”

You pulled your bag onto your lap and began to pack up your books.

Fred let out a sigh like he was going to say something. You turned to him, but he merely shook his head.

“Forget it,” he said, seeming to be at a loss of words.

You stood from your seat the second McGonagall dismissed class, leaving Fred at your shared desk.

“She’s totally into me!”

“She hates your guts, mate,” George said, pulling his lips into a thin-lined sympathy smile.

Fred scoffed and shook his head, his long hair falling over his forehead.

“You don’t get it,” he pressed, determined to make George see.

“She looks like she wants to throw herself into the Forbidden Forest every time she sees you,” George replied, determined to stop his brother from future heartbreak.

“Whatever, just you watch,” Fred said, tossing his Quidditch broom from hand to hand and looking at the massive stands above them, empty for the practice, “in a few weeks she’ll be in one of those seats, cheering me on.”

“He’s lost it,” Harry mumbled to George as he walked past, baffled by Fred’s dazed look.

George nodded hastily, following Harry away from his lovesick brother.

Fred was not often detoured by anyone’s cautionary guidance, so the endless warnings from George slid off his ego like melted butter.

Fred had spent so much time in the last Quidditch match with his eyes glued to the Ravenclaw student section, looking for you, that he had barely hit any bludgers the entire game. Oliver had some tasteful words for him in the changing rooms, but it was no worse than his mother’s screaming.

You were not at the Quidditch match, you never were. You had always used the advantage of the empty castle to go to the kitchens. The elves were the only ones left there, and you liked talking with them. Some times Luna would join you.

It seemed you and Fred were going opposite directions while searching for each other at the same time.

No matter how many cookies Dobby shoved towards you and Luna, you could not get Fred out of your head.

You thought about his arms wrapped around you on the stairs, you thought about the way he could always make your cheeks burn, and you thought of the way his eyes poured into your face like it was the only thing he’d ever seen. You hated him. He was rude, arrogant, and annoying. He ran around your head constantly.

McGonagall had some choice words for Fred that night after the match. The sulking from the loss had been toned down, but the hushed sounds of Oliver’s feet pounding against the floor in his bedroom could be heard all the way from the common room.

“Where is Wood?” she burst through the portrait hole, still in her robes she wore to the match.

“He’s upstairs, why?” Harry replied, looking nervous.

“I need to have a word with him,” she cast a glance at Fred, “and his methods of training his beaters.”

Fred and George both shot from where they sat on the couch.

“What?” George yelled.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Mister Weasley,” she squinted at them, “whichever one of you was looking around at the Rave-” she stopped before she could finish her sentence as if she had an epiphany.

Her pursed lips twisted into an evil looking smile.

“You know, Mister Weasley,” she took a step towards the boys and spoke to them only, “dating a Ravenclaw would show great strides in house unity,” Fred’s eyes bulged out of his head and George was already turning pink with laughter, “perhaps then you could focus on Quidditch again.”

George was nearly purple due to lack of air, and Harry’s mouth was agape in shock as McGonagall whisked her robes and swiftly climbed back out of the portrait hole.

“What is she on about?” Harry asked George.

Fred flopped onto the couch and covered his face with his hands. His life was over. If McGonagall could catch onto something like that, couldn’t you? You hadn’t started to flirt back, and Fred was beginning to wonder if George was right about your feelings towards him.

Soon enough, George was spouting everything McGonagall had said before he could catch his breath. He told anyone in the common room how much you hated Fred, and how much he desperately fancied you. Fred figured there was no use to stop him, because once again, if McGonagall could catch on, couldn’t everyone else?

Sunday morning was always rough for you. You pulled your heavy quilt closer to your cold cheeks, hoping for the sun to go back down and the weekend to restart. It never did.

You slipped on a pair of jeans and a tight turtle neck. Still feeling the cold air of the castle seeping through, you pulled on a sweater over the turtle neck. You tugged on some wool socks and pulled the fabric of the shirt as high up your neck as it would go.

You and Luna had plans to go to Hagrid’s hut today, he had promised her some magical flower seeds he had found in his garden. You liked to spend time with Luna, she was an easing presence and you always knew how to talk to her, even if most people didn’t.

You clutched an old muggle novel to your chest, hoping to trap some of your body heat. The hallways were surprisingly crowded for a Sunday morning, and you glanced at your watch, seeing breakfast had just ended.

You noticed that a lot of students with red ties were looking at you oddly. They would see you and smile widely, as if you were a new friend to them. You kept your head down until you met Luna in front of the great hall.

“Did you hear the news?” she asked before she even greeted you.

“What?”

“I just saw Harry, he said McGonagall told Fred to ask you out.”

You laughed, expecting her to do so as well. She didn’t and her face stayed stoic. She began to walk outside.

You were locked into place for a second before you jumped into line with her.

“What?” you repeated.

“Harry told me-” she began, but you waved your hands, cutting her off.

“No, I heard you, but what do you mean? What did McGonagall say?”

Luna had to have finally gone loony.

“He told me that after they lost Quidditch yesterday, she came in looking for Fred, she said he was quite distracted during the match,” she said, looking dreamily at you, “and she said something about how dating a Ravenclaw would be great for house unity,” Luna finished, toying with the tote bag at her side.

“Why did Harry think the Ravenclaw had to be me?” you asked, thinking there was a huge misunderstanding.

“Oh, well,” she said like she had forgotten a large part of the story, “after George heard what McGonagall said, he lost it. Harry said he laughed so hard he cried,” Luna giggled to herself while imagining the sight, “and he told everyone in the common room that Fred fancied you.”

Your face turned bright red with anger and embarrassment. The entire Gryffindor house had been laughing all night because George said Fred fancied you.

You were about to burst into protests, insist that it’s not true, but a gaggle of second years wearing red ties all pointed at you, talking among themselves.

You stepped towards them, making sure your prefect badge was visible. You watched their eyes flash down to the blue pin, and back up at your face, eyes wide. They scurried off and you fell back into place with Luna.

“That was rude of them,” Luna said, looping her arm with yours.

“Yeah,” you said quietly under your breath, your mind cloudy with thoughts.

You and Luna walked quietly out to Hagrid’s. You glanced up and saw the last person you had wanted to see.

Fred and George stood at the point where the path diverged to the Quidditch pitch and Hagrid’s hut, throwing a little flame-like ball to each other, bouncing it off their arms, feet, and chests. A small group of some younger kids had huddled around them, ‘ooing’ and ‘awing’ at each pass.

Fred had a large smile on his face, and the sight of it made your stomach churn with nerves.

You ducked your head down, hoping you and Luna would pass without a problem. You would not.

“Hi Fred,” Luna lifted a hand to wave at him, and the small light fell onto the ground as Fred saw you, “hi George.”

George smiled evilly at the sight of his brother nervously looking anywhere but you.

“Fun looking game your playing,” Luna said, trying to stop to talk, but you dragged her along.

“See you later Luna, Y/n!” George called out to the two of you, the laughter obvious in his voice.

“Why didn’t you want to talk to them? You could have asked Fred about what Harry said,” Luna asked you soothingly, looking at you curiously.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, feeling very overwhelmed, “it’s weird. I don’t even know what happened but the thought of it is so weird,” you paused, trying to grasp the words, “I mean, Fred can’t like me. We detest each other, its fun.”

“Well, do you like him?” she had asked the one question you were avoiding.

Fred had always been a thorn in your side. Ever since you met him he was rude. He never apologized for anything, he laughed, poked, and prodded at you for his own amusement. Yet, whenever you saw his soft-looking hair, you swallowed hard. When he inched closer to you, even just to whisper something rude, you felt your chest tighten. He looked at you, and you could swear he actually cared about what you were saying. Maybe detest was a little strong, perhaps just annoyed.

Granted, he was a teenage boy, and you are a teenage girl, mixed messages are bound to be sent. You thought you had been clear with your messages to Fred, though. “Leave me alone,” nothing bitter, nothing kind, just the wish to be left alone. Of course, Fred did not read your message that way. The enticing message he got was more along the lines of: “I’m going to pretend I want you to leave me alone, but please, don’t. Chase me through the hallways, confess undying love for me, kiss me passionately”. Now, it is entirely possible that Fred’s interpretation was a little clouded by his own wants and wishes, but this did not stop him.

The talk of the castle, for at least the following school week, was you and Fred.

You had never been whispered about, pointed at, or thought of like this. Fred seemed to be enjoying it.

In class Monday, Fred pretended nothing had happened. He swung his arm over the back of your chair and waited for the look of disgust to flash across your face, which it did, and he chuckled to himself.

Soon enough, the whispers and pointing had subsided, and they were replaced by odd looks as if they were disbelieving of something.

Luna found you in the courtyard sitting under a tree and skipped over to you.

“You hadn’t told me Fred asked you out,” she wiggled her eyebrows, “officially.”

Once again, you laughed, but she did not. She sat in front of you, crossing her legs.

“Oh my-” you trailed off, lifting your head to look at Luna, “what’s happened now?”

“Hermione told me that Fred has been raving to everyone about how you’re dating.”

Your eyes were wild with disbelief. You couldn’t have even comprehended what was going on at this school these days.

“Well, no one’s told me that we’re dating,” you said, your voice riddled with annoyance.

In perfect timing, Fred, George, and Lee bounded from the school and out to the courtyard. They were laughing and shoving each other, looking to be having a great time.

You stood from the ground, dusting off your pants and walking over to the three with fury.

“Fred!” you called out to him, and he stopped and turned to you.

A look of fear flashed on his face, but he covered it with something else, was it admiration? Love?

You clenched your jaw and narrowed your eyes, stepping close to him. He tilted his head down to look at you, a small smile on his lips.

Around you, George, Lee, and Luna stood with their arms crossed, watching intently.

Your bodies were almost touching, and your finger stabbed into his chest.

“Who do you think you are?” you said in a hushed tone through gritted teeth.

Once again, Fred’s face fell for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around your waist in some sort of embrace. You squirmed from his touch and backed away from him.

“Who do you think you are?” you repeated, this time louder. George and Lee flinched from behind you.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” he asked sweetly.

Your face twisted with confusion, what is he on about?

“What?”

He continued, stepping closer to you.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked earnestly, moving to rub his hand on your arm.

He was trying to flip the script, make you feel crazy.

“Fred, you’ve lost it, really,” you replied, walking back to the tree to gather your books.

“Maybe when you’ve regained consciousness,” you walked back up to him, keeping your distance, “or the effects of whatever potion you took start to wear off, please try to explain what is going on.”

You walked away from them, leaving Fred with a wicked smile.

“Alright, see you later!” he called out to you.

You turned your head to look at him, your hair blew in front of your face but Fred could see your puzzled expression. His smirk grew wider and he turned to George, Lee, and Luna. They looked awfully concerned.

“Oh,” he placed his hands on his hips, “isn’t she great?”

You had gotten to Transfiguration early, your prefect duties switched for the week. You crossed your legs and placed a book on them, reading discretely while McGonagall was still in her office.

Just as she began to address the class, Fred strolled in, hands in his pockets. He slipped into the seat next to you and you bookmarked your page. You scooted your chair in and slipped the worn book into your bag, listening to McGonagall begin her lecture. Monday’s were often boring lecture days in Transfiguration.

You heard the screech of Fred’s chair on the floor, and in the corner of your eye saw him moving closer to you. He rested his elbow on the desk and placed his chin in his palm. He leaned close to you.

“Hello,” he whispered, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You ignored him, dipping your quill into your ink in case McGonagall said something note-worthy.

“What’s ‘a matter,” he paused as if he was thinking of the most annoying thing to say to you, “darling?”

You audibly gagged, and his smile widened.

“What do you want?” you caved, asking him.

“Oh nothing,” he leaned back in his chair, still whispering to you, “just for you to be my girlfriend.”

You went rigid. Your face suddenly got very warm. You lost grip of your quill and it toppled over your ink, sending dark liquid across the desk and onto your white sleeve. You cursed loudly out of reflex and it caught McGonagall’s attention.

“Excuse me, Miss Y/l/n?”

Everyone turned to look at you and Fred in the back of the room, some people smirking. Fred stayed leaned back in his chair, watching you.

“I’m sorry Professor,” you stumbled out, wiping both the ink and your sleeve at the same time, making both things worse, “I just-”

Fred pulled his wand out from beside you and did a simple cleaning spell, you supposed. The ink receded back into its bottle and the stain on your sleeve disappeared. McGonagall watched him intently.

“Very resourceful Weasley, Miss Y/l/n, please don’t disrupt my class again,” she said curtly, returning to the lesson.

You heard a few snickers from your classmates, your face still a deep shade of red. You swallowed hard as you felt your heart beating in your ears.

Fred leaned forward again so his mouth was aligned with your ear.

“What do you say?” he whispered.

“What are you talking about Fred? Why are you doing all this?” you asked, straining to keep your desperate voice in a whisper.

“I’m only having some fun,” he replied as if he hadn’t been making your life a living hell for the past weeks.

You shot him a pleading look, and when he saw your flushed cheeks and watery eyes, his face softened.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on your knee, a knot formed in your throat and shivers went down your arms, “I didn’t mean to-” he trailed off and your jaw clenched. You returned your gaze to the front of the class.

“Listen, I’ve just been,” he paused, searching for the words, “I’ve been playing a sort of prank. On everyone but us.”

His tone was soft and playful as if he were letting you in on a secret. You supposed he was.

You raised your eyebrows, pressing him to continue.

“Well, George basically told everyone in our house that I fancy you, so I wanted to have some fun with it, switch it on them.”

You pressed your eyebrows together, still looking to the front of the room while Fred was inches away from your ear.

“I’ve told everyone we’re dating,” he said plainly, “house unity and all, as McGonagall said.”

“So that was true? What Harry told Luna?” you said before you could stop yourself, happy to finally get answers.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what Harry said, but I’m sure he didn’t leave anything out.”

“Why did George tell everyone that? That you,” you trailed off, feeling the words choking in your mouth, “that you fancy me?”

“Because I do,” he said quickly, and just as quickly moved on, “so what do you say? Want to be my girlfriend-” he paused, realizing what he had just said, “well, my girlfriend of sorts, not like my real girlfriend, because I’m sure you wouldn’t want to, and-” he stopped himself.

This time it was his turn for his cheeks to burn and his eyes to awkwardly avoid yours.

“Why do all this? Seems a lot for a joke that no one but us will laugh at,” you said, trying to ignore his confession.

“I’m willing to go to the ends of the Earth for a joke, my dear.”

Fred was dreadfully serious when saying that, and this became clear within hours.

Walking past the Dungeons and up the many stairs to your common room, you heard Fred call out to you.

“Wait up!” he was breaking away from a large group of Gryffindors, and all of them watched him with a keen eye,

“What, Fred?”

“Hey, that's not a very girlfriend-y tone,” he wrapped his arm easily around you.

You were sure it was meant to be sweet, but it felt a bit imprisoning.

“I never agreed to this,” you didn’t shake off his arm, but you felt inclined to. You were aware of the many eyes pouring into your back.

“I thought we had? Oh,” his arm left your shoulder, and you felt a little colder, “well then I suppose I could leave it all be, go back on my word, humiliate myself.”

His tone was a playful one, and you couldn’t help the bashful smile that reached your cheeks. You knew you had no obligation to Fred, but the whispers and gossip had seemed to subside during this new joke of his. You stopped at the landing, and the group of Gryffindors walked past you, staring at you both. Fred waved them off and nodded his head towards you, smiling.

“Why should I?” you clutched some textbooks to your chest, feeling grateful for the wall it put between you and Fred. He looked down at you, his hair falling into his forehead.

“Well,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets, inching closer to you, “as I said, I just think it could be a bit of fun.”

“Fun for you. What’s in it for me?”

“What? Besides utter fame and popularity from being associated with me?”

“Oh shove off, Fred,” you rolled your eyes at him, but once again could not help the smile that spread across your face.

“See? I’m growing on you already.”

“I’m still seeing no benefit for me.”

“Well, I do see where your coming from, but I’d like to raise another point,” he slipped a hand from his pants and waved it casually while talking, “I will indeed pretend like we are dating even if you don’t.”

“So essentially, you would just be flirting with me while I hurl insults at you?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“Is that the image you want, Fred?” you teased.

You moved to lean against the wall behind you, and Fred trailed after you.

“Any image is a good one,” he winked dramatically at you.

You shrunk away from him and gagged, sending him into a fit of laughter.

“I hate it already.”

“So you’ll do it?” he asked.

You breathed in, looking at him seriously. His hazel eyes were dark in this light, his hair had gone a deeper red in the lack of warm weather and sunshine. He towered over you slightly, and you looked at him through your lashes.

Shrugging your shoulders, you agreed weakly.

Fred saw the error of his thinking almost immediately. Walking through the hallways with you, he felt his heart soar higher and higher each time you laughed. When you would loosen up, or walk a little closer to him. He was being awfully unfair to himself, making himself think that you had something, some sort of relationship. It was like dangling a treat in front of a dog and wanking it away right when the dog drooled.

He saw the flaming house, and still walked in, looking for a place to sleep.

“Why, hello,” Fred drawled, coming up from behind you in the hall.

You felt his hand snake around your waist, and he pulled you. Your feet twisted from under you and you twirled, turning to face him. Your hair had skewed into your face, and he watched your delicate hand reach up to brush it away.

You looked dazed as if you had a lot on your mind. He smiled down at you and you did your best to reciprocate it.

“Are you alright?” he asked, dropping his hand from your hip.

“Yeah, just-” you took a deep breath in, “just got a lot of homework, been a bit busy with my prefect stuff.”

This was not what was bothering you. You felt a lot of inner conflicts these days, an endless moody and angsty monologue sounding off in your head day and night. You felt odd. You felt odd for agreeing to Fred’s stupid plan. You felt odd for toying with him and yourself. You had disliked him just last month, and now you let him wrap his arm around your shoulder, let him hold your waist. You felt like a traitor to yourself, letting him win you over with a few charming looks. You felt even worse when you thought of Fred’s confession. He had said he fancied you, and the idea of pretending to date him didn’t alarm you for some reason. You hated the feeling of toying with his emotions or allowing him to live out some sort of fantasy. Everything about it made you feel awful.

You didn’t feel as awful, though, when Fred would call out a comment from across the dining hall that would make your cheeks burn and all the other girls swoon. You didn’t feel as awful when he would sit in silence with you by the black lake, keeping you company among the chilling wind. You didn’t feel as awful when he slipped little notes into your bag when you left Transfiguration.

You had enough, one too many genuine looks of admiration. You needed to tell Fred how you felt.

You caught him on his way back from Quidditch practice. He was trailing near the end of the group, huddled with George and Harry. He had some dirt on his forehead, and his cheeks were tinted pink. He smelled of grass and sweat.

You pulled your cardigan tighter around you, wishing you had brought your scarf. Your hair whipped in the wind around you, and you rocked on your feet.

You began walking to him, and when he saw you he smiled widely.

“Hey!” he called out, walking faster to meet you.

“Hi,” you said nervously.

“I’ll meet you guys back in the common room,” he told George and Harry, who glanced over their shoulders at the two of you.

It was dusk and he looked strikingly handsome. You felt like you were seeing him as a different person. He wasn’t the boy who bewitched snowballs to attack you, he wasn’t the boy who laughed at your scraped hands. He wasn’t the boy who shoved Lee at you, and he wasn’t the boy who awkwardly danced with McGonagall. He was the boy who held you in his arms, stopping you from falling over the stairs. He was the boy who looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, he was the boy who held you above anything else.

Your mouth was agape as you looked at him, he stood awkwardly waiting for you to say something. You looked at the ground, licking your lips and feeling them dry as soon as the cold air grazed them again.

“I wanted to talk to you,” you said quietly, hoping your voice would fade into the wind and carry you away.

“What’s up?” he looked down at you nervously.

“Fred, I-” he cut you off, placing a hand on your arm.

“You can’t do this anymore?” he looked deeply at you but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

You didn’t want to have this talk anymore, you felt content, suddenly, in pretending. You could both pretend to love each other until it wasn’t pretending. The lines would blur and soon, his kisses would come easily and his hands would have their place on you. You would touch his soft hair and know his eyes only looked at you. But you had already said the words, or rather, he did.

“I just,” you kicked the dirt beneath you, hoping he would finish your sentence again, he didn’t.

“I don’t think its fair,” you looked up at him finally and felt surprised to feel tears in your eyes, you blinked, forcing them to subside, “to either of us.”

You heard him gulp, and his eyes moved to look at the castle behind you. The candles had been lit and the stone glowed from the inside.

“I get it,” he said, removing his hand from your arm.

You looked down at where his hand had been and felt a tear drip down your cheek.

“Fred-”

He shook his head, pulling his mouth into a line. You stopped talking, feeling the words stuck in your heart.

You really wished you hadn’t said anything. You wished you could pretend again.

He walked past you, leaving you in the dusk. You hadn’t meant to, but a sob escaped your mouth. You heard his feet shuffle for a moment, and stop. He walked back to you.

He had finally been able to fall asleep among the fire, and it seemed you had come to join him at some point. He didn’t know when, but looking at you now, it seemed you had been burning for a while.

“What’s got you so torn up about this?” he said gently, stopping a few paces away from you, “Didn’t fall in love with me, did ya?”

A laugh fell from your lips at the same time another sob did. Your shoulders hunched over more, and Fred’s heart hurt him. He walked to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned to face him, and you both moved at the same time. He pulled you close into his chest and your cheek pressed against him. He smelled, he was dirty, and he was tired, but he still held you tighter than you had ever been held before.

You pulled away from him after a while, coming to terms with yourself in the moment of affection. You wiped your tears from your face with your sleeve, taking a few deep breaths.

“I think,” you hiccuped, feeling it hard to speak, “I think that the pretending was too hard.”

Fred felt guilt wash over him. He felt guilty for himself, because you had said exactly what he was feeling. He couldn’t stand to pretend, to keep himself from gripping your hand, or from kissing you any chance he got. He wanted it all to be real, he wanted this wall between you to crumble into a genuine relationship. He felt guilty for making you feel this way. He felt guilty for pressuring you into this allusion of intimacy. He hadn’t stopped to consider if this would be negative for you, only insisting it would all work out for the best.

As he watched your uneven breathing and swollen nose and eyes, he knew this was not the best.

He breathed hard, forcing himself not to cry as he looked at you. George was supposed to be the sensitive one, but Fred had always been a sympathetic crier.

“Me too,” he replied, his voice sounding far, far away.

You looked at him, feeling terrified. The cold air was moving through you liked you were transparent. Tears kept flowing down your face, and no matter how fast you dried them, you only cried more. Your head felt miles away from your body, so you stepped closer to him, hoping to step closer to yourself too.

“I don’t think I want to pretend,” you croaked out.

He blinked at you, and you saw a single tear fall down his cheek. He didn’t move to brush it away, and it moved slowly. It left a clean mark on his dirt-stained face.

You took a step towards him, covering your hand with your sleeve. You cupped the back of his neck with one hand and brought your sleeved hand to his cheek. You wiped the tear and the dirt away, but your hand didn’t move. You peaked your fingers from your sleeve and they grazed his face. His eyes fluttered closed and your throat tightened as more tears poured from your eyes. Your vision was blurry as you traced his face, moving over his nose, eyebrows, and lips. You stopped to cup his cheek, and he leaned into your palm. You felt the wetness of more tears fall onto your hand, and you bit your lips, holding in a wretched noise.

“Fred?”

His eyes fluttered open, and you realized his hands had found their way onto your waist, he held you tightly.

“Do you want to pretend?” you asked him.

He moved his head from your cheek and kept his wet eyes locked with yours.

“I want you,” his voice was hoarse and sad, but that was all you needed to hear.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck and he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

The dusk had turned into the night, and you pulled away from Fred. You looked up at him and swallowed away the tears that remained. You began to walk past him and up to the castle. He followed you quickly.

You were scared. You had safety in pretending, knowing this was all something for fun. But as you looked at Fred now, you saw something deeper. You saw the threat of genuine love and connection, the threat of heartbreak.

Neither of you wanted to go without the other tonight, you had decided. You wordlessly followed him to his common room, and he slipped his hand into yours. You had both ducked into a prefect bathroom on the way there, looking at yourselves and covering your swollen eyes.

He said the password to a portrait of a large lady, and she looked suspiciously at you both.

“Are you two alright? You’ve just about missed curfew,” she said, her voice booming through the staircase.

“Yeah, we’re alright, just tired from practice, is all,” Fred reassured her, and the door swung open. He walked in first, and you followed.

You relished in the warmth of the spacious room, feeling drawn to the fireplace. You walked over to it and sat on a large couch. The room was relatively empty, a few kids hunched over books.

Fred sat next to you, still in his Quidditch robes. He grabbed your legs with his hand and guided them to rest on one of his legs, hanging over it. This angled your body to him, and he moved his arm to wrap around you.

“When did you realize?” he asked, his face lit by the fire.

“Just then, when you walked up to me after your practice.”

His chest moved with a chuckle and you moved your head to looked up at him.

“Well that's a little embarrassing for me,” he said, pushing a piece of your hair out of your face while you gazed up at him, “I've known since I met you.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t,” you said lightly, assuming he was trying to be some sort of romantic and inflating the truth.

“I did,” he said seriously, “I teased you for so long for a reason.”

“Because you’re an idiot?”

“Yes.”

You both laughed, pulling each other closer.

“And because I liked you.”

You rolled your eyes, sinking deeper into him. You felt yourself getting tired and you peered up at him. His eyes were half-closed and his face was drooping.

“Fred, you’re tired, why don’t you go to bed,” you began to move off of him, but he pulled you back.

“Only if you make me a deal,” he said mischievously.

“What?”

“I’ll go upstairs and take a quick shower, but only if you come with me,” he replied.

“I am not showering with you, pervert,” you smacked his arm and stood from the couch, blushing furiously.

He smiled and grabbed your hand, turning it to kiss your palm. You shivered at his touch.

“No, just come lay with me,” he looked up at you, suddenly serious, “I want to be with you tonight.”

Your heart sank to your stomach and you bit your lip. You couldn’t speak, so you nodded your head slowly.

Fred fished his wand from his robes and waved it towards the stairs, performing the counterspell for the stairs. You followed him up to his room, where he put his finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. When he cracked open the door, it was dark and the curtains for the beds had been drawn. He crept over to a chest at the foot of his bed and looked at you before turning to its contents. He pulled out two large pajama pants, both plaid, and two heavy sweaters. He tossed one of each on his bed and took the others with him.

“Here, you can sleep in these,” he whispered to you, and it felt like you would blush forever.

He smiled softly at you before closing the curtains for you, leaving you to change.

“Oi, mate,” you heard someone’s annoyed and hoarse voice, “what took you so long? Practice ended an hour ago.”

“I was talking with Y/n,” you heard the bathroom door open, “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow, I’m gonna shower. And don’t wake me up for breakfast tomorrow, I want to sleep in.”

You smiled to yourself, holding the soft sweater in your hands. It had a large ‘F’ on it, and you traced your fingers over it. You slid out of your jeans and folded them, placing them on the floor by the trunk. You slid on the pants he gave you and silently laughed as they easily ran past your feet and dragged on the floor. You folded them at the waist, and they were still too long. You had just slipped on the sweater when Fred slid open the curtain. He watched you fold your shirt and place it with your jeans. His eyes trailed from his sweater to the way his pants covered your feet. He smiled widely and drew you closer to him by grabbing your hips.

You looked up at him, your chests pressed together. He brought one hand up to your jaw, tilting it up to align with his face. His lips parted and so did yours, the air between you becoming a mixture of your breaths. His was minty, he must have just brushed his teeth.

His thumb grazed your bottom lip, and he finally closed the space between you. His neck craned down to you, but when you stood on your toes he was able to stand straight. You pressed as close to him as you could, and so did he. His lips were warm against your cold ones. He felt the many places that had been chapped and bitten, running his tongue over them slowly. You sighed and ran your chilled hands up his sweater, feeling him shiver beneath you. Your fingertips grazed the muscles on his back, tracing every line you could feel.

You pulled away first, sinking down to stand flat on your feet and rest your forehead on his chest.

“I’m so glad we didn’t pretend to do that,” Fred laughed out, pulling you close to him.

You smiled and hugged him, before moving to the other side of the small bed. You both slid under the covers silently, thinking that if either of you said something, things would suddenly be awkward.

The lack of bed only made him hold you tighter, and the two of you fell asleep relatively soon.

You were awoken by the sounds of laughter. The curtains were still drawn, and Fred’s arm was still wrapped around you. Your leg was resting on him as he laid on his back, hugging you close to him. Your head lifted from his chest as you squinted your eyes.

“No, he said he wanted to sleep in, mate,” you heard George say. The door opened and you heard footsteps walking towards it.

“You think they finally told each other?” Lee asked George, pulling on a wool hat.

“I hope so, bloody awful letting Fred think he tricked us,” George said before closing the door behind them.

You smiled and let your head sink back onto Fred. He stirred and pulled you closer to him. Through the fabric of his sweater, you swore you could hear the steady rhythm of his heart.

#fred weasley #fred #weasley #weasely family #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins #fred weasely fic #weasley fic #fred fic #fred weasley imagine #fred imagine #fred x y/n #fred x ravenclaw #harry potter #hogwarts #ravenclaw #fred weasley x reader

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mfpeace · 3 years ago

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@justbeingedgy @weird-colombian-gurl You asked me to elaborate on the "Ches already has a kid" theory in the notes of that one mf analysis post (which I really liked, go check it out!!), so that's why I'm making this one, cuz notes are a bit too restricting for what I want to talk about!

Though next time think twice before asking me to talk about something I'm interested in, because you never know when you're gonna wake up lovecraftian horrors!! :DDD you'll see what i mean when you press read more :))

So, I'll say it right now - this post is largely inspired by the second story highlight of this Instagram user (sorry, I don't know their name, only that their Instagram handle is dee_girl_metalfamilyfan), it's in Russian though, so keep that in mind

Alright, so I'll break this theory into two parts: the first one will be all about Ches, and the second will be about his potential child (spoiler: you might've seen her!)

Without any further ado, let's get to the Ches part:

1. The creators said that they're gonna explore Ches' character in the second season. Obviously, it doesn't mean anything on it's own, but just wait.

Dima: Let's talk about the second season a little. Of course, the seconds season will show development of the old characters, as well as new ones. That's in short. As you see, Ches looks a bit different here.

Alina: Yeah, we'll show a bit more about Ches at the ages of 18 to 20. His past. We'll reveal a bit more about his complex character, as much as it's possible.

(The source of the translation) Also I think they also said at one point that adult Ches will get some character development too? But that's probably a given, considering that we wouldn't see his youth if it wouldn't have affected him in the present, flashbacks without any relevance to the overall story don't sound so good

2. Not sure about this one (we don't know how much in character it was) but I can't not mention it.

Alina: Actually there was this one fanfic that I really liked. I don’t remember what it was called, but it was about Ches having a daughter, which is a cool topic. It was relatively in character and truly interesting. It’s great when people focus not just on sexual relationships of the characters, but also try to look at their development. That was a really interesting one. That’s it.

(UnityCon '19)

3. This one's a pretty big one, in my opinion. So, this is what they said on ArtWave '19:

Dima: Ches also has flaws.

Alina: [to Dima] Don’t spoil stuff.

Dima: His flaw is that he's very... irresponsible, let’s say.

So, maybe, just maybe, Ches does have a child but he, you know... left them? As the Instagram highlight from the beginning say: "he might be irresponsible enough to leave his child, and he's probably irresponsible enough not to use any contraception" (rephrased, not the exact quote)

4. Alright, so, the only mention of this one I can think of right now is the aforementioned Instagram highlight. The Metalfamilyfan says:

I contacted Korg/Корж, (admin of @ metal_yama [and I believe one of the organizers of the Metal Family Meetup in Moscow]) and she asked Alina on one of the meetups: "if Ches were to be a father, what kind of father would he be?"

And she said: "The kind of that would say "kid, look at that birdie over there!" an then he would run away"

Someone's words are not the perfect source, but they did tag Metal Yama and from what I know they didn't disagree with what the author of the page said. if anyone has anything to say about this (disprove or definitely prove what I said) feel free to do so in a reblog, notes, DMs, send me an anonymous ask, or in any other way you feel comfortable with

5. Ches has literally been through the same thing, and we know how important the theme of the cycle of abuse is in Metal Family (or, in this case, the cycle of neglect? Abandonment? Idk)

You managed to hide your PREGNANCY from me! AND you've been hiding the child from me for a whole year!

YES, because you would've insisted on aborting him!

AND NOW I'M INSISTING ON PUTTING HIM UP FOR ADOPTION! OR I'LL LEAVE RIGHT NOW!

6. Here we can see Ches with a blonde girl. Nothing too special, probably just a one time hook up. He doesn't seem to be interested in her, and she seems to be annoyed with him.

But wait...

What is this?

Like, it doesn't even matter if there's actually a punk/rock/whatever band named MOM or not, I just think it's pretty weird to put it in this particular drawing of Ches and this random woman who is implied to have slept with him. It's not integral to Ches' character as, for example, Korol i Shut is. It's just... there. For some reason.

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

Alright, now, finally let's get to the second part of the theory: who is, exactly, his child?

The short answer is, according to this theory, her:

First, let me list every single instance of her appearing in canon (and by canon I mean everything made by the creators. Even with this definition of canon it's not much, I promise): The screenshot you can see above on the left (it's a screenshot from the second season and it appeared here), an instagram story posted by Alina (above, right), and two drawing with a lot of characters where you can spot the girl which I'm gonna call her PinkHair or PH for short, I'll mention them later I feel like I should mention this, comparing the sources of the images and the dates when they were posted, it's safe to assume that the screenshot in the classroom has the latest and final version of her design. The red hair most likely doesn't mean anything

1. Alright. So. we've seen Dee and PinkHair in a classroom together, so they're most likely related in some way, or at least they know each other. Their exact relationship doesn't matter here, because all that matters here is that they're related story-wise

Let's look at the first image. This is the banner of the main Metal Family channel. Ches is near Heavy (they get along quite well and I'm sure Heavy aspires to be like Ches in many ways), Dee (we can see his classmates/friends near him, they're all about his age), and we can see people related to Glam on the left side of the image (including Ches!), and Vicky's - on the right side (notice how the hell sign is also there)

Now, I'm not absolutely sure about this one, but it's still kind of weird - look at the image on the right (it's from ArtWave 2021 btw) - wouldn't it make more sense to put PinkHair near Dee? Also, Curiously enough, not only is she not close to Dee on this image, but she's also standing next to Ches.

Though this whole thing could be explained by art theory (too many small things in one corner of your drawing isn't great composition wise lol sorry PH) but I still can't quite skip this point

2. Remember the "MOM" lady? Fun fact, she has the exact same pearl earring that PinkHair has on the screenshot.

3. I'll put all similarities with her supposed parents in this point: Mother: * She's also pretty uh.. glam? for the lack of a better word? Or feminine in a traditional sense, yeah I think that's a better way to put it. Like colors they prefer to wear for example, and jewelry. Characters like that aren't common in Metal Family * She's gotta be a blonde. I can't imagine her being anything but blonde. If she manages to maintain that hair color as a brunette I'm just straight up assuming her character arc is gonna be killing God because these kind of people are capable of anything. I fear them with every fiber of my being. * I can't say for sure because of the shading, but it seems like they both have gray eyes, and she also has darker skin compared to most MF characters. Though, it's likely that Mom just applied a lot of fake tan Ches: * We know that Ches for sure has darker skin * AND grey eyes * There's also some possible personality similarities but I'm not sure if you can compare a child to a parent they've never really known in this way

That's about it, I suppose, I hope there isn't that many grammar mistakes and logically unfinished parts and whatnot in this post I forgot to edit lol x) I'm not sure how to end this post other than to remind you guys that almost all the points in this posts are inspired by the "тупая теория" highlight on the dee_girl_metalfamilyfan's Instagram page, so go check them out and subscribe, they post Dee x The Quest Girl fanart and and always credit the artists. Without them this post would be much, much shorter.

Thanks for reading this post, please feel free to let me know your thoughts on this post <3

#i tried to organize this but #yeah #also damn i hope PH's mother isn't in the same situation as Ches' :'(#at one point i misspelled parent in the context of ches as paren't and now i can't stop giggling like an idiot #these tags have completely different moods to them because I wrote them at different points in time btw #paren't #heh heh #metal family #metal family ches #metal family pinkhair #this seems like it's made up but if words end in ent or ant or something like that sometimes i automatically put an ' in without thinking

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mitamicah · 4 years ago

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Spoilers from both Trollhunters the book and Trollhunters the series!

While reading the book I was really impressed with how many differences there were between the character so I have worked on giving my take on six characters from both media, book vs series, and how they differ from each other :3

I should mention that while there was illustrations in the book I tried for the challenge not to copy those but follow along the describtions in the book - when possible - to give my own interpretation of the characters ^v^

Steve

First up we have Steve. Starting out as the stereotypical bully in both version their paths seperates quickly resulting in two different ending for the musuclar blond Jorgensen-Warner is the book version of Steve. Here's how he is described from our first encounter with him: "He was handsome but in the oddest way- He eyes were too small and his nose piggish: he had a ridiculous amount of hair and a couple of teeth that looked like fangs. Yet somehow in combination these features were sort of mesmerising. His unnatural muscular bulk and odd way of speaking -crisply, politely, as if he were a foreign student who had learned English in class - completed the strange package." page 21-22 For his outfit I went with the description of him on page 224 "[my clothes] ... didn't cast me in the best light when compared to Steve Jorgensen-Warner, who looked rather rakish in blue jeans and a shirt - definitely not a blouse - opened to the third button. He dribbled the ball casually with his left hand." The bold passages is added by me This Steve is later revealed to be a changeling aka a troll Before we go on: can any of you explain to me what a "ridiculous amount of hair" even means :'D? I had a lot of trouble with this prompt because isn't this so darn subjective :'D? and the official art look way less ridiculous than I'd figure it'll be :'D x'D Palchuk is the series version of Steve. His facial appearance being way less specific (I'd say he has normal sized eyes, a big roman nose and some more or less normal teeth) and his way of speaking is definitely not polite. Like book Steve, this Steve starts out with pushing smaller guys into lockerrooms yet after that he becomes way less of a terrifying bully and much more of a silly goose who brings a lot of the comic relief in my opinion Douxie says it best in Wizards when he calls Steve the "village idiot" x'D I do not recall seeing Steve being that sporty in the show, he is much more interested in becoming homecoming king no basketballs around x'D While book Steve is revealed to be the enemy (a troll) series Steve joins the "good guys" creating the creepslayerz with the character Eli Pepperjack

Blinky

Blinky is just called Blinky in the book Here's a bit of description of him "The third [troll] had scarlet eyes, eight of them on long stems. (...) The thing from my house glided toward me with a surprising grace for something with an indetermined number of legs, all of which were hidden behind a patched kilt scaled with layers of medals, prizes and trophies and award ribbons. An incalculable tangle of tentacles twined around one another as if dying to squeese something to death. As it passed the oven, the firelight revealed olive-green skin, reptilian texture, and lacquer of slime lubricating its undulating appendages Its moth a horizontal gash.. " The bold passages is added by me So yeah this Blinky is quite something :'D I stopped caring to draw tentacles after a while but overall this was silly but fun to draw since his teeth later is described as big as traffic cones I believe he must be very tall :'D Also he's close to blind Has a bit of a dirty mouth but in a very "read" way if it makes sense :'D cannot seem to stop calling Jim dimwitted and tiny and Tobias big :'D Blinky's full name in the series is Blinkus Galadrigal he has six eyes instead of eight and they are all working just fine, thank you very much x'D His tons of tentacles and legs has been replaced by four arms and two legs and while he is still olive-green he is now made of tone like texture just like the other trolls the kilt turned into shorts and he is quite a bit smaller now not even as tall as Jim He still has this very academic way of speaking yet he is way nicer to Jim calling him "Master Jim" instead of "the short one" x'D

ARRRGH!!!

Book ARRGHHH!!!s full name is Johannah Mmmm ARRRGH!!! and she is a pretty big deal warrior among the trolls in the book - she's so badass in fact Blinky has decided to call her by her last name to honor her for her deeds for trollkind Here's a qoute from the book describing her appearance "The goliath emerged from the tunnel as comfortably as a dog from a doghouse, coarse black fur pouring into the chamber before I could make out any actual arms or legs (...) Even beneath the fur I could see loops of muscles flexing. (...) ARRRGH!!! was built like a gorilla but three times larger: Two arms, two legs, and, thankfully, just two eyes. Horns, curled like those of a ram (...) The thing's orange eyes cast about with animal perceptiveness, and it used its snout and sniffed. Its jaws fell open to reveal a purple, slavering mouth armed with haphazard daggers of teeth." Page 75-76 The bold passages is added by me (Also worth mentioning: the qoute is from before the protagonist knows of ARRRGH!!!'s gender which is why he calls her an 'it') At other times in the story we learn that ARRRGH! has quite scarred arms and really wishes for better tooth hygeine; so much so that Tobias actually end up making her a brace out of chicken wire :'D Idk I find it quite adorable :'D Now unto the serie's ARRRGH!!! - first up he is male, his name is Arghaumont and he is famous for another reason than Johannah: he was a general of Gunmar but retreated from the war making him a traitor to his people yet a hero for the good trolls in the series. Series ARRRGH!!! is likewise built like a gorilla but made of stone and having a mane long and green like it is moss his horns is way smaller and less curvy and his teeth hygeine is never brought up also his face is way less dog like x'D

Tobias

Book Tobias' full name is Tobias M. Dershowitz yet he is going by 'Tubby' or 'Tub'. Here is a describtion of him from the book: "You could call Tobias Dershowitz chubby, if you were being cute, or husky if you were being diplomatic. The fact is he was fat, and that was only the beginning of his problems. His hair was a thick, orange, out-of-control hedge. His face spilled over with the kind of freckles that make kids like Tub look like overgrown toddlers. Worst of all were his braces, marvels of modern torment: whips of stainless steel crisscrossing each tooth seperately and lashed to a dozen silver fasteners. The braces clicked so much when he spoke, you expected sparks. At least he was tall..." page 27 The bold passages is added by me The outfit I went with is described on page 259 like this: "He stood in the driveway decked out in his best approximation of a ninja: black tennis shoes, black sweatpants, a black hoodie, a belt made from a red curtain sash, and an oversize fanny pack holding his gear (...) It was unfortunate that the fanny pack was lime green..." To describe Tub is a bit difficult because sadly he is not much in the story as I'd liked - mostly he is being quite serious and let us know he is not happy by being sidelined not speaking troll nor being invited on hunts which I completely understand tbh :'D What I do find interesting is how Tub and series Jim has seem to have switched roles a little bit: In the series Jim is the one giving a speech about how he is insecure about his place in life and how he wants more - in the book this is Tub in more than one occassion: "We have to accept who we are. And before you ask, I'll tell you. We're nobody. We have no life. We have nothing to look forward to. We're not special. I just want it to go away. All of it. The stupid being scared. Doesn't it seem we've been scared forever?" page 37 "Jim, you're wrong. We were meant to do this. This is exactly what we've been waiting for. They've chosen us. Of all people! Us! (...) Jesus, Jim, take a look at my life! You know what I'm worth! To anyone? Zero! Nothing! I'm a fat loser and will always be a fat loser. Until this. This is like a present. Full of, man, I don't know. Hope?..." page 196 (talking about trollhunting here btw) Oh yeah and book Tobias gets this badass scene where he uses his dentist's tool to kill trolls I loved that Now series Tobias is way different :'D first up his name is Tobias Domzalski and his nicknames are Toby and Tobes. He is way shorter and has more neat hair (what is it with the series neating up the hair :'D? x'D). He also seems way cheerier and pretty happy with his place in life more or less Unlike Tub, Toby is in it from the start being an important player in the story He doesn't have the same drive to be something more than he is as Tub has instead Toby is going with the flow starting out quite afraid of everything troll and ended up being as brave as the rest of the team *tbh Jim's scared out of his wits too so they mimic each other x'D* Where Tub has dentist tools Toby gets a badass hammer so I'll say its an upgrade

Claire

First off we have Claire Fontaine, a foreign student from no other than Scotland with a taste for military clothing and liqourice Here's how she's described in the book "She tucked her long dark hair behind her ear and left ir with an adorable smudge of white dust. I thought she was beautiful, though she wasn't in the classic sense. The popular girl would say she wasn't skinny enough. They would also point to the fact that she didn't wear makeup or do anything to tame that hair. And her clothes -well, what could be said about her clothes? Her boots were not sexy and knee-high: in fact, they were ankle-high and rubber-soled and looked picked from military surplus racks, an array of pea-green coats and multi-coloured slacks, all of which looked as if they'd been through actual World War II combat. And that beret she wore before and after school wasn't of the look-at-me-I'm Frensh variety: it was more in the style of I'm-going-to-invade-your-country-and-be-your-new-dictator. Only one thing didn't make sense: that bright pink, exceedingly girlish backpack that inexplicably hadn't one anti-establidh patch sewn onto it (...) Oh, I forgot to mention that Claire Fontain came from the UK. That's right- the girl had an accent. I think you are starting to get the picture." page 30-1 The bold passages is added by me It is hinted at that Claire is quite tall and a great deal taller than Jim (more when I get to him) and she is actually a whole year older than Jim since they both have birthday May 2 but Claire is 16 while Jim is 15 Since Trollhunters in this story is not a "protected title" (aka the chosen hero type) Claire ends up being one herself even though nobody even herself didn't know: AND. SHE. KICKS. BUTT! She's even better than the guy that had 40+ years experience so yeah safe to say she's badass :'D Even before that she has a hilarious scene calling out Steve in the wildest shitstorm of Scottish slang I lived for it x'D She's described quite a few times with lots of bracelets, sometimes made of wire so I gave her a bit of both She's not really a part of the popular group but has her own thing going on Now onto Claire Nuñez the series' version of this badass Here Claire is hispanic and pretty much one of the most popular girls seen around her style is way more ... I've called it punk rock in purple but Idk exactly what to call it x'D she's shorter than Jim and slimmer looking than her book counterpart She enters the story not as a trollhunter but as a victim of having her brother stolen by changelings and as time progresses she becomes a fastlearning and quite competent sorcerer dealing in shadow magic Unlike Fontaine, Nuñes is seen wearing make up, shorter hair with dye in it and hair clips instead of bracelets

Jim

First up we have book Jim. His full name is James Sturges Jr. and lives with his single parent, his dad, after his mother went away the day before his birthday in start May and never returned. Sturges Sr. had been traumatized loosing his brother to trolls although none of the characters didn't know this yet - only Senior had seen the creatures making him paranoid and in turn making Jim very embarrased about his father. At the same time Jim seems to honestly worry for his father and his behavior too makes Jim very cautious and fearful a character. Book Jim is pretty much a typical teenager for the most part He is seen to be a tad clumsy and not exactly brave really. And the author's choice of basically not describing him anywhere made my job way harder trying to be book accurate :'D So I've mostly inspired him of the official illustrations in the book Here's what I could find about our little trollhunter First off: he's a short fellow that is first mentioned on page 14; "Sunshine is important for growing boys." (...) "I am not growing" I took after my dad when it came to size and was still waiting for that growth spurt everyone kept raving about. "In fact I think I'm shrinking." This is brought up most of everything Jim through the movie from him not being able to reach a point of a chalkboard (page 32) to people's dissapointing sighs taking meassurements when he is chosen as Romeo (107) and him wearing super high heels for the same reason (224) but also Blinky directly calling him a "little fellow" (page 127) On page 27 we learn that he is getting a bruise on his chin after being slammed into his locker by Steve Lockers he has been thrown into enough to have learned to open them on the inside :'D He is a skinny fella which Tobias so politely call "lack of muscletone" due to "glandular" at page 120 He is not very good at anything describing his room full of stuff from hobbies he tried and failed at (page 63) The longest describtion about his appearance is probably page 105: "I lowered my eyes and regarded the chewed, dirty fingernails holding my script, thes scuffed shoes on my feet, and realized that these were the symbols of my pityful life: worn-out, insignificant, ready to be thrown beneath Dad's industrial mower" It pretty much says it all when this is the longest quite I could find :'D For the outfit I mostly went by the small describtion on page 89-90: "I tucked the medallion beneath my shirt. After a full day of wearing it, maybe the rest of the suffocating fear would go away too. My plan was to dart into the kitchen, grab my sweatshirt and be out of the house. " I added jeans since he is said to wear jeans on page 283 - the medallion sneak out beneath the sweatshirt/shirt on page 97 which is why I added it on top here as well Now since there's a bit more to both versions of Jim due to their role as the protagonist I've added in a little extra features here being the medallion in the book vs the amulet in the series and the weaponry given to the characters For Sturges we have the medallion who's described like this: "It was a bronze medallion conntected to a rusty chain. It was engraved with a foreboding crest: a hideous, snarling face; indecipherable markings of a sevage language, and a magnificent long-sword across the bottom." page 9 The medallion is treated like it is a common artefact if a bit rare in the book - its purpose is to translate trollspeak for the wearer. Jim is giving two swords in the book; a rusty longsword he calls Clairesword (do I need to explain this one?) and a cutlass he calls Cat #6 after the one cat at Tobias' house that liked Jim x'D For Sturges' personality my feeling about him is that he is a bit more ... passive than his series counterpart. He is not really standing up for himself that much and would rather blend into the background. This qoute from Claire sums him up pretty nicely I believe "You're a good person, Mr. Sturges. A bit gloomy, but good" page 246 I do like that Jim in this version is a Taurus (I am a taurus too x'D) born on May 2nd so that's a plus It is probably also worth mentioning that in this world trollhunters aren't a chosen hero type like in the series: trollhunters or paladin was once a title held by many warriors yet now there's very few left. Sturges was a proud paladin family making Jim a chosen candidate for the honor of becoming a trollhunter but he is not the only one - or even the best - in the book. In fact out of the three trollhunters we learn about I'll say Jim is the weakest (and he is not even the least trained; ouch :'D) Jim doesn't get a nice armour like his series counterpart either but is seen in the illustrations wearing a blue hoodie (like the one in the little doodle) The full name of Jim in the series is James Lake Jr. He is the child of a single parent and lives with his mother whom Jim "mothers a lot" (Tobias' words in the first episode) This Jim is pretty "tall for his age" (Jim's own words uttered quite a few times across all three series) yet with quite skinny legs (he is called out for this by multiple characters). He is much more competent in life than his book counterpart being an exceptional cook, good at Spanish, seemingly alright in PE and at school he seems to stand pretty good if only holding himself back. Unlike book Jim, series Jim seems much more active and longing to be something more than he is - he is seen to be quite brave and protective of his friends, very kind and selfless. Also even from the start he seems much more nimble than his book counterpart being able to climb the robe (a feat book Jim didn't do before later) and with his training as trollhunter he becomes even more badass Trollhunter status in the series is way more important since the title is given to only one chosen warrior of Merlin chosen by the amulet of daylight (the medallion in the book). This also makes the amulet way more special and important in the series which probably explains its shine up from rusty bronze thing to silver and blue. While Lake Jr doesn't have named sword he does have a magical armour and sword made of daylight We do not know the exact birthday of Lake Jr but the creators have replied to a fanquestion saying it would be around fall especially October so by that estimate Jim is probably a scorpio pretty far from the before mentioned taurus in the book While Jim Lake Jr isn't seen with long lasting bruises in the original series he does get two more permanent scars in Wizards

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maxdark158 · 4 years ago

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Wooo! Writing shoes are back on and i’m actually really happy that i’m finally able to write again. This chapter is a bit shorter than normal but the next two are heavy hitters so it’s alright

Angel in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Ao3

Demon in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Ao3

Fanart for AiG: Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman

Please tag me in any fanart you draw for this guys ^^

oooOOOooo

Damian typically liked patrol.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop under the cover of the night was always exhilarating. Parkour just wasn’t the same without a belt of weapons and a costume, it was always a good way to burn of excess energy and get his mind focused.

Sure, it was his job to protect Gotham so he couldn’t be joking around, but he had to admit he liked the physical activity. He took his job seriously but taking it seriously didn’t mean it had to be unenjoyable.

Patrols were a time when he didn’t feel constrained, didn’t have to play a part or meet expectations. Nothing could ruin the cool gotham city nights on the rooftops.

Well, almost nothing.

After all, Damian’s father had the insane habit of adopting shitty ass kids for his crime fighting ring. Which meant Damian had this awful sickness called siblings. And the only thing that could ruin his nice patrols were the chortling of the other costumed idiots.

The worst nights were when all his brothers went.

Every. Single. Brother.

And what made it worse on top of that?

When they had something they felt they could tease him about. And when they were all teasing him about the same thing at the same time.

He was going to snap and stab one of them. His father might be anti murder but he didn’t have to know…

Damian shook his head. Bad thoughts.

“Thinking of your Angel?” Drake seemed to have a death wish and Damian was all about granting fucking wishes right now.

“Why do you all insist on being here?” he grumbled to himself. Because really they didn’t have to be. No bat signal, probably a few minor purse snatching crimes that one or two could handle easily. Why were they all in costume? Take the night off, stop fucking bothering him.

Annoying Fuck #1 snorted next to him when he said that, clearly not planning to be reasonable. “What, don’t like us teasing you about your Angel, demon spawn?” Todd snorted.

Damian ignored him. “Batman, shouldn’t he not be allowed to patrol with us?” His father could at least tell Todd to go home. Then when his back was turned he wouldn’t witness what happened to Dra-

“C’mon, I haven’t killed anyone and I want to hang out with my little bro! It’s not every day that Robin gets his first crush!”

Annoying Fuck #2, Drake, nearly slipped and fell from laughter.

Damian’s face warmed under his mask. “I do not have a crush you-“

“Focus on the job,” As always, father was on his side. “You can make fun of Robin later when we aren’t patrolling,” the traitorous bastard added.

Damian didn’t want to be the fucking blood son anymore.

He glared at Batman, scoffing to himself. “Then if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my own route.”

“I’ll go with you little bird!”

Fucking fuck fuck.

Because of fucking course Grayson suggested that. And of fucking course Damian momentarily forgot that Grayson was back and patrolling too, leaving him unprepared for the suggestion. Grayson’s uncharacteristic quietness was the worst thing at times.

Fucking hell why’d they all have to be here tonight?

Proving himself to truly be a traitor, his father nodded to Grayson’s suggestion. So Damian, previously wanting to get away with his brothers and dream of murdering them alone, now had a tagalong stopping such a fun activity.

At this rate he’d have frown lines at 23.

Damian went off, not waiting for Grayson. He knew he’d easily keep pace though, so the halfhearted dream of being fully alone wouldn’t happen.

“Robin, wait here a second.” Oh fuck no. That’s Grayson’s I want to talk voice. Too bad for him because Damian did not want to talk. At all. Especially about anything Grayson might want to talk about. Because Grayson wanted to talk about French Angels and Riddlers and Spars and-

“Robin, are you listening?”

“No, Nightwing, I’m not.” Damian stared at him and raised a brow. “What is there to talk about?”

Grayson huffed, annoyed. Good. Fucker deserves it after what he and the others put him through these last few days. “I was asking if you actually had a crush or not. They’re teasing you but I’ve been,” at WE all day, Damian knew, “busy all day. I can’t tell if they’re making something out of nothing and I’d rather hear it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”

There was a time when Damian would have said he wasn’t a horse. When he was younger, he didn’t know idioms and expressions that well. He considered saying it now, to try and change the subject, but he also knew Grayson didn’t let things go easily. Which wasn’t very good.

Because Damian wasn’t sure how to answer.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to answer it, even to himself. His weedkiller wouldn’t arrive for a few more fucking days, he wasn’t prepared for this.

Though maybe that in of itself showed the answer to Grayson’s question…

Fucking fuck fuck.

He shook himself from those thoughts. Grayson was waiting on an answer and he didn’t have time to get lost in thought about his Ang- Marinette. Marinette.

Damian settled for glaring at Grayson. “My private life is not any business of yours.”

Grayson snorted. “Suure little bird. She’s one of the French students, right?”

“Don’t say that right now,” he snapped. Not while they were in costume, not while they could be listened to. “Focus on the job, Nightwing.”

Grayson put his hands up in surrender. “Race you to Wayne Enterprises?”

Damian didn’t wait for an answer, jumping to the next roof and making his way as fast as he could. He was determined to beat his adopted brother’s sorry ass, not that he cared about winning. It wasn’t that he was competitive, he simply didn’t want to continue this discussion. That was all. That’s fucking it.

Grayson laughed behind him, and the race began.

-----

They were taking a break near the Batcave. No activity yet, but they stayed suited up incase that changed. The night was still young, after all.

Batman instructed them to meet there through the comms. Damian and Grayson, further from the cave, made it there last. Grayson luckily hadn’t brought up and other conversation during patrol, and Damian hoped that would hold ou-

The other two idiots were waiting like the fucking lunatics they are.

Fucking fuck fuck.

“Did the demon spawn tell you about his precious Angel?” Todd clearly decided that he would die in seven days by saying that, big dumb fucking grin on his face and hair messy from removing his dumbass helmet.

“What was her name again? Mary?” Drake knew her name and was just being a little bitch. Damian decided not to give him the fucking bait, going over to a place to sit-

“Marie something, French and I think with brown eyes?”

“They’re blue,” Damian bit out. Fuck, their stupidity had infected him, he spoke before thinking. Was there a cure? He doubted it as they were all still stupid and have been for years. Fucking fuck the last thing he needs is to be on their level of idiocy.

“Right, right,” Jason’s wolfish smug grin was showing exactly how much of a fucking bitch he planned to be. Damian wanted to kick his face in.

“Little bird was pretty tight lipped on patrol,” Grayson said lightly as if he didn’t just stab him in the back.

“It’d be rude to kiss and tell,” Damian was going to strangle Drake with his own two hands.

“I haven’t kissed her!” He snapped again. His face was very warm, did he get sunburned somehow?? “We’re friends you imbeciles!”

“Friends that hold hands,” Drake pointed out.

“And tour Gotham together, alone.” Todd shortened his life span even more.

“And invite each other over to their house, where they never invited anyone before, to eat lunch.”

“Look how red his face is!”

“Little bird probably even planned to buy her ice cream! That’s why they were there when the Riddler showed up!”

“I’ll bed demon spawn-“

Damian stormed out of the room. Blood was roaring in his ears and he needed to- he just. He fucking needed fucking out of here. Away from those fuckers. Or he’d actually follow through with his thinly veiled threats and he’d rather not get blood on his costume.

He hated siblings with a passion. If his father ever considered adopting again Damian would fill all of his shoes with centipedes and rip the third seam out of every pair of pants he owned.

I don’t have a crush on her. I don’t. She’s wonderful and amazing, an angel, but I don’t like Ang- Marinette like that. She’s a friend I made and that is all.

Damian grabbed some throwing knives for target practice. Not on his brothers this time. He wanted to clear his head without those fucks nearby.

He threw one. The aim was a bit off, and he frowned. His aim was impeccable, why was he off right now? Why is having a crush on Marinette a bad thing?

No. He shook his head. He didn’t want to think those fucking thoughts right now. He threw another, harder. It went deep into the target, still off by more than he was happy with. He growled lowly.

Ange- Marinette is pure and good and wonderful. I was raised by assassins and I can’t completely shake their ideals.

Another knife. Damian’s grip on them tightened. Why was he missing?

I’m a vigilante and Damian Wayne. I have blood on my hands and money to my name and she wants to make her fashion empire herself.

Damian got more knives. His frustration was growing with each thought. They kept coming back as he tried to dismiss them, kept distracting him from the target.

She’s a talented designer. She’s incredibly smart, knows how to fight. Beautiful, dark hair and freckles and blue eyes.

Another knife sailed through the air.

I’m not anything of note without my last name or costume. She’s amazing without needing either.

Damian walked over and began taking the knives off the targets. Maybe they were fucking with his aim. He should get rid of them. Focus on removing them. Stop thinking about her.

But no matter how many fucking times he tried to redirect his thoughts, they came back.

She doesn’t have to tolerate me.

She’s wonderful and innocent.

She doesn’t deserve to be dragged down.

I don’t want to hurt her.

Damian’s hands were on his face, pushing at his eyes and trying to stop the thoughts. His Ange- Marinette was wonderful he knew that, but he didn’t think the other things. Not constantly anyway, he helped people as Robin. He was his father’s blood son. He wasn’t unhappy with himself.

But that doesn’t mean I’m good enough for Marinette.

He grabbed a knife from the table he set them on and threw it blindly, as if throwing the thought itself out and away.

It hit the center perfectly.

Damian took a deep breath. Everything was fucking overwhelming right now, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore.

But it seemed he’d have to.

Fucking fuck fuck.

Okay, okay. He… He might have a crush on Marinette.

Admitting it, oddly, seemed to lift a weight off his shoulders. Damian took another deep breath.

He has a crush on Marinette. But he values her a friend very much. He isn’t going to do anything about his crush, because she deserves someone as amazing and angelic as her, and Damian isn’t that.

But that’s okay. Because he already loves being her friend. And his weedkiller isn’t too far away.

Damian calmed down. He threw some more knives. They were all on target.

She’ll always be my friend and Angel, if I have any say in it. I’ll make sure whoever she choses is worthy of her.

Damian had just thrown his third when his father spoke through their comms. “Poison Ivy sighting at Gotham Hotel.”

The six words turned Damian’s recently found peaceful mood onto its head. Ice water poured into his and filled his limbs with dread. His chest was tight, as if someone was grabbing at his lungs and they were closing. The weeds of worry were strangling him.

That’s my Angel’s hotel.

He had dropped her off there with Alfred just earlier that day. She was staying there with her class. They were supposed to be safe and protected, she was supposed to be safe and protected.

Damian’s knives hit the ground but his feet hit it faster as he ran through the cave to the exit. Ivy best not lay a finger on her or she would lose her entire arm.

His Angel wouldn’t get hurt, not if he could help it.

#daminette #maribat #Marinette #Damian Wayne #maridami #damimari #marinettexdamian #damian x marinette #miraculous ladybug #batman #batboys #batbrothers

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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

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Tor - Rogue, Chapter 3| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: A little bit of Mando pov for you all!! It’s a shorter chapter, just kind of the same as the previous but from our Space Dad’s point of view this time. Though there may be a little hint of your decision at the end…

Warnings: Injury detail/blood, swearing, angst? Hints of fluff?

AN: There’s a very small ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ reference to a certain Dornish prince and his nickname in here too. Wonder if you’ll find it? 👀

Also, thank you to @ithinkwehitametaphor for sending me the gif! i couldn’t for the life of me find it and you honestly saved my life

Wordcount: About 3465

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo

Mando’a Translation: Tor – justice

He always thought it would end like this. Never in some big blaze of blaster fire or with his ship, but in some back alley, bleeding out, alone.

Hell, maybe he deserved it. He’d killed enough people to warrant this end, slumped on the floor, too weak to save himself.

He didn’t deserve a warrior’s death, a Mandalorian’s death. Not after all he had done.

Of course, it was his duty, his honour as a Mandalorian and a bounty hunter but… that sacred Creed did nothing to stop the thoughts that plagued him at night, the whispers that hissed in his ear during his waking hours.

He almost laughed at himself.

The Creed was all he had.

Until…. Until the kid had come along.

Until he saw that little wrinkly baby in the crib and… it had all changed.

He couldn’t kill it, him, couldn’t take it back to the Client or his Clones.

One look at that damn little silver ball, and eveyrhting went straight out the window.

Fuck the Guild code. He would never kill a child, an innocent being that couldn’t even talk, could only make those little cooing sounds that even he had to admit were adorable.

Rescuing him… it had given him something to live for. Something to fill his days and a reason not to go hurtling helmet first into danger with no regard for his own safety.

Except… well, no. That wasn’t strictly true was it. He’d become more reckless since that moment, the rules that his bound his life for so long were slowly coming undone bit by bit. All of which made him so reckless, so… desperate?

You only had to look at the sheer amount of people lining up for his and the kid’s head to prove that.

So maybe he didn’t always make the smartest decisions, but they were still alive, weren’t they? Had friends to help them if he needed it.

In a short time, he’d gone from being Judge, Jury and Executioner, to being the person that people called when they needed help. Sometimes people didn’t even call him. He just showed up and offered his services.

And truth be told… he liked it. He liked people looking at him with hope and admiration, rather than fear and jealousy. He liked the way people fussed over the kid, asking if Mando was taking good care of the child. Like they were a family.

A Clan.

The sigil on his armour said as much. Him and the kid. A unit of two rogues.

That’s what it all came down to, in the end. Everything was to keep Grogu safe. That’s why he stuck to the Outer Rim, taking jobs that would draw him further away from those that relentlessly hunting them, those who wanted to harm the Child. Besides, he needed the credits that came with the big jobs. Taking care of the little womp rat was expensive. Not to mention there was always something falling apart on his ship.

So, when that guy in the hood had cornered him in the bar, given him the fob and told him about the bounty that no one could catch, he’d taken it without a thought. He’d had so many over the years that were supposedly uncatchable that the word had nearly lost its meaning. And this stranger had obviously sensed that, explained that it was true. Reeled off the sheer amount of hunters that had been sent that way, Imps, Trandoshans, Empire workers, IG-11 robots, even another Mandalorian. After hearing that list, Mando had expected some high-level bounty. An escapee from the deepest pits of the darkest prisons, someone who had done terrible, terrible things.

So… when he’d activated the puck, and the hologram of a woman’s face had come up… he was shocked. This woman… she was beautiful. Still young. She didn’t look like she bathed in the blood of her enemies, or killed children and babies, she looked… well, not exactly harmless. There was a glint in her eyes even on the hologram, a spark that warned of danger, promised pain to anyone that tried to hurt her.

A survivor’s look.

Something niggled at him, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. It might have been hesitation, but he ignored it. The bounty over her head was enough that he could take Grogu to one of those sanctuary planets and lay low for a few weeks. Maybe even a few months. The kid deserved it, to be able to play and explore.

And himself… Maker, he was just so tired.

So, he’d pocketed the puck and the fob, didn’t ask who the client was, went back to the Crest and then he was on his way to Sorgan.

Maybe it would take him a little longer than usual to bring the girl in, but it was nothing that he hadn’t done before. After all, stealing back the kid, breaking into a prison, everything else that had occurred recently… this was a walk in the park.

He still believed that, right up to tracking you. Even when he chased you.

He had to admit, he did love it when they ran, even if his back was killing him.

Something about the chase, the frantic fear of the prey as he hunted them down, the conclusion inevitable. It thrilled him.

But… this felt.. different.

You were different. You fought like it was a dance, whirling across the clearing and around his punches like there was a song only you could hear. And you were taunting him, laughing as you did. You lived for this, like you had been bred for it. No… you’d been shaped by it, shaped by the choice of cowering or turning into a wolf. A wolf, like those he’d seen in Lothal.

You were strong, you fought well, he had to give you that much. He knew he would have to work for it, but with the promise of safety lingering, he matched you move for move, determined to hold this out as long as it took.

He’d read your file, read what had happened and used that to his advantage. The words had come easily, even though they had stirred something inside him, perhaps a mirror of the feelings he was encouraging in you.

But then… then you just gave in. Straight away. And not like the others did. Not in the way that they had, thinking it would make him go easier, change his mind.

No, you had completely, utterly given up. He saw it in your eyes. Saw that survivors glint gutter out, a wolf tamed back into her cage with her tail between her legs.

And… it threw him. He had touched something, caught something deep within you as he taunted you. Something broken… that again whispered to his own deepest thoughts. Like calling to like.

He’d ignored it, pushing that thought back into the part of his minds where his darker thoughts lay slumbering – for now. He’d carried you back to the Crest, shackled you to the wall and had made to leave you there.

Only, he had seen that the wound on your shoulder was torn open again, ripped by your fight and his jamming with the rifle. It was bleeding through your tunic, and even with unconsciousness heavy in your body, you still looked somewhat pained.

He’d hovered there, staring at the bleeding wound and having some kind of internal battle.

It wasn’t fatal. It was just a recent injury that had torn open. You’d be fine. He nodded, turning around and making all of one step.

But. A Trandoshan had been the last person to hunt you. They relished in the hunt, had probably fought dirty and used a poison. It might be infected. What if you died on his way back to dropping you off? Or got really, really sick?

Nevermind. The messenger for the Client stated you had to be brought back alive. Alive didn’t mean whole. He carried on walking, trying to focus again on something else… only to pause a couple of metres away.

Help her.

The Mandalorian had turned back around to look at you, a frustrated grunt slipping from his lips. He moved through the ship, grabbing a med-kit and then practically stormed back to you, nearly ripping your tunic as he’d eased up the sleeve.

It wasn’t too bad, a deep wound but it hadn’t been infected, yet. He cleaned it up, spraying it with the last of his bacta-spray and binding it with the last strip of bandages. He’d have to get some more soon, dig up some credits from somewhere.

A cruel reminder of why he took this job. What you were. A bounty. That’s all.

Muttering a string of curses, he finished binding your wound, wrenching his hands away and then made his way back upstairs.

A bounty. A means to an end. The way to getting a break that his aching body craved for.

He was hunter. You were prey.

That was the mantra he had to keep repeating to himself when he’d brought you up to the cockpit.

Had to keep repeating when you were teasing him, which simultaneously ground on his nerves but also made his skin tighten in a way it hadn’t for a while.

It had been a long time, so long since he’d that kind of verbal play with someone.

Hell, it had been a long time since he’d had any kind of play with anyone. He just didn’t have the time anymore, not with Grogu and not when everyone knew who he was. How could you trust someone enough to sleep with them when nearly everyone wanted to kill you?

His new mantra had echoed in his head when you began to verbally poke at him, hitting home about being lonely. He wouldn’t have been surprised if you knew you’d hit a nerve. But thankfully you stopped.

But not before that broken thing had called between you again. Your words were spoken with too much ease and casualness, someone who knew all too well the loneliness and starvation for touch and companionship.

Maker, he had to get rid of you soon.

It had almost been a relief to find the small bounty on this planet. You’d been asleep, the kid asleep too so he’d gone. He didn’t need to wake either of you up, you knew why you were here - he’d told you so this morning.

Besides, it was a small planet, easy prey to catch when everyone here feared the dark. He’d be back in a few hours.

With the way he was so wired, he’d probably be back in two.

That’s the way it was meant to happen.

Track down the bounty, disarm, bring him back, freeze him in carbonite and Mando would have you back in the sky before you’d even woken up.

And it had happened that way initially. He followed the sharp tailed bounty from the fighting pits to a cantina. Had to sit and listen as he boasted about some girl he’d bedded the night before and had screaming his name. He then, of course, launched into detail of said night, drawling about this girl in such a derogatory way that it took all his training and restraint not to just shoot this creep in the head there and then and be done with it.

But, the Mandalorian had endured it. Sat there for an hour or so and then followed him out into an alleyway. Mando kept hidden as the bounty had spoken to a friend, talking about another girl he’d seen. Apparently, this one was even better than last night. He had it on good authority that this girl would be game for anything he wanted to do and more.

And then Spikey had started describing again, in detail, what he would do. And Mando had been disgusted, angry that this creep was talking about a woman this way, such sick and derogatory things. Spikey’s friend asked if this ‘slut’ had a name.

And then…

Your name. That’s what he said.

And that’s when it went wrong.

Your name had barely come out of this animal’s lips when a red haze clouded over the Mandalorian. Everything in him screamed violence and his body went on autopilot, attacking this vile waste of space matter so quickly he hadn’t had time to breathe. Mando didn’t even notice the friend bolt, running away. He was just so focused on taking down the bounty, ripping him apart for what he’d said about you. This one would be brought in cold. He would say that it put up a fight, tried to kill him so Mando acted in self-defence.

His previous mantra of the last two days was forgotten, overtaken by a need to defend you, make sure this guy stayed the hell away from you. Bring him down, freeze him in carbonite and get off of this planet. He fell back into that haze, relying on his skills and instincts.

Except… except that when the haze cleared, he wasn’t leaning over the body.

No, he was the one being pinned against the wall by the bounty, with a strength he hadn’t realised Spikey possessed. What the fuck was he?

Escape training came to him now, but before he could disarm and kill, the bounty began to spew those vile thoughts about you again. About how Mando was keeping you tied to a bed, for his own pleasure. How he was going to take you, ask to keep you, use you-

And then for the first time in his life, Mando forgot his training. He forgot about blocking and defensive maneuverers. He forgot about the myriad of weapons on his body, the Whistling Birds, the flame-thrower.

He reached out in a blind fury to throttle this creep.

He left himself open to attack.

That was the first time he royally fucked up tonight.

Pain had suddenly become a living thing in his side and waist as he slid down the wall, and then his only thought wasn’t of survival, it was of the kid, and you.

You were back in the ship, both of you safe at least. Maybe you would know how to fly, know how to get yourselves out of there and run, escape. That’s what he’d hoped. You were smart, you were a survivor. You’d take the initiative and get yourselves out. Besides, he might not have admitted it, but he trusted you with Grogu.

And then like he’d fucking summoned you… there you were. Launching into Spikey Tail’s side and getting him away. He could only watch as you engaged him in the fight, taunted him with that same tone you’d used on him. Only this time, he could watch you.

Beautiful.

There was no other word for it, as much as he might not have wanted to admit it. You fought like it was a dance, that prowling wolf in you giving way to a viper, striking and falling back with all the grace of dancers he’d heard about performing in Coruscant.

He was almost breathless as he watched this deadly game – though that might have been the blood loss and blow to his head.

He thought he might be sick when the sound of your ribs shattering bounced off the slick metal walls, the muffled cry of agony it tore from you.

But still, the taunts kept coming, and he couldn’t help himself when you complained that Spikey Tail talked too much. You had possibly two broken ribs and yet you were still a cocky little shit. The impressed, huffing laugh that came from his lips was loud enough to be heard by you.

And that was his second fuck up of the night.

What started as an unexpected burst of warmth in his chest as you turned and smiled at him, had immediately frozen his lungs as Spikey slammed you against the wall, strangling you.

Fear shot through Mando, colder than his body had begun to feel. He tried to get up, tried to help you but he couldn’t move. His limbs wouldn’t respond to him.

He couldn’t save you.

He was going to watch you die defending him.

Just like his parents.

No, no, no. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do that, not again. He swore against his body, gathered every remaining ounce of strength that he had and reached for his blaster, just as those sick comments of degradation and ugly lust began to fall from your attacker’s lips.

All he needed was to give you an opening, just one tiny opening and you would do the rest.

Spikey’s lips were creeping toward yours, fear bursting in your eyes as you scrambled for the vibroblade sheathed against your thigh.

An opening, that’s all he had to do.

And he did. He managed to haul his body back from the edge of death long enough to shoot the guy in the back.

You took your opening.

He saw the flash of your vibroblade, heard the muffled, wet noise as it sunk into his bounty’s neck.

The guy fell to the floor in a dead weight. You dropped too and he managed to see you gasp for air, assure himself you were mostly okay before that flame of energy guttered out so quickly, he saw stars.

Darkness hovered around the edges of his vision as he felt his life slip through his fingers – literally, his other hand was pressed to his side in an effort to try and staunch it but he didn’t have the energy to.

This was it then.

The way he would go.

Nothing noble, or heroic.

Bleeding out in a back alley. The creatures in the dark would take him soon enough.

At least you would be able to take the kid and run now. At least there was that.

And then he felt hands knocking his way, significantly smaller hands push into the wound. He couldn’t even make a noise of pain; it didn’t hurt anymore. His vision cleared again and there you were once more, leaning over him with blood sprayed over your face, falling from a cut on your cheek.

No. No.

What were you doing??

You were supposed to escape. You were supposed to flee the mess he’d bought you into and take the kid and run.

He tried to speak, to convey these thoughts to you but his lips had stopped responding. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. But somehow, it was like you got what he meant.

Your hands began to lift, and he had a weak wave of relief that was marred by the fresh soaking of blood that oozed out of his side. How much had he lost now?

Too much, by the cooling temperature of his body and the trembling that had begun.

He had come close to death before, so many times before but this felt different. This felt like he was losing something. Something that was just within reach but he hadn’t had the chance to grasp at yet. And it was being wrenched away, taken from him and trickling over the stones beneath him in a deep, scarlet puddle.

Maybe he’d begun to hallucinate too, because you were back, leaning over him, hands pressed into him again like they could stop the blood. He lifted his eyes and something in him curled up and panged when he saw that you were already gazing at him.

Gazing right into his eyes.

How you knew where they were, how you looked through the blackened visor without seeing, he didn’t know. But he could read the war raging inside of you, the battle off stay or go.

Go.

Mando tried to talk again, but only managed a faint noise, a croak that sounded so pitiful, he might have cringed at himself had he not started to hear a ringing in his ears. Time was nearly up, ticking away his life and that glimmer of something.

So, he instead just looked at you. You were clearly not made up yet, so he did something selfish.

He put his life in your hands.

If you left him here to die, he deserved it. It was justice. Justice for every ounce of pain he’d caused. The grief he’d doled out to mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, children.

Justice for the life of treachery he had all but dumped Grogu into.

Justice for letting his parents die for him and not save them.

But, if you let him live…

Then he would try harder. He would repent for his mistakes.

He would make sure you were dropped somewhere safely. You couldn’t stay with him, he wrought death and destruction to those around him whether he meant it or not

But he could take you somewhere safe, maybe to Greef and Cara.

Then he would hunt down whoever came after you next, giving you the respite that he was going to keep for himself.

They were the options.

A deserved death, or a new determination to set right his mistakes.

These thoughts swum through his hazy brain at a surprisingly rapid pace, only a few seconds worth of time as he still watched what you would do with this choice. He could see that you understood, understood the choice he had selfishly bestowed upon you.

Only it was too late.

Heavy darkness thundered over him in an unrelenting tidal wave and with a choked gasp, he was dragged under, so deep he might have imagined your arms winding around his battered body, hauling him to his feet as much as you could.

His brain giving him one last reprieve, perhaps, or maybe a cruel taunt to what might have been before he was sucked under and everything went numb.

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the force #star wars #the mandalorian #rogue #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal

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