#my family has had extended arguments over this thing because for a few years my mom wanted to throw it out

[tiktaaliker]

a legend returns....

[sapphicmsmarvel]

Modern!Azriel: "too much"

lol i’m projecting in this one. this is how my extended family has always made me feel so 🤷🏻‍♀️

tw: not eating due to anxiety.

-You kept Azriel hidden from your extended family for three years. 

-You truly did not have much association with them. They were kind but not loving towards you. 

-Your parents knew of him as well as the two cousins you were closest with that actually loved you. 

-About a year in, you and Azriel had the talk about your extended family. 

At first, Azriel was kind of hurt by it. He brought you around his family. His chosen and blood when he had to. 

-Your first major argument was about you keeping him away from your family. 

“Are you embarrassed by me?” His voice cracked. 

“What? No! This isn’t about you, Azriel.” You sighed. 

“Then what is it? Are you freaking out about commitment to something?” 

“I just don’t want to bring you around them!” You cried. 

“Why?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” You crossed your arms. 

“Yes it does! Clearly something is bothering you. I cannot rest until I know what it is, Y/N.” He sighed. “I feel like I’m back in high school and my girlfriend is embarrassed to be seen with me.” 

That’s when your tears broke. You didn’t cry often. It took a while before you felt safe enough to do so in front of him. 

“I just…” You wiped your eyes and sniffed. “I’m really scared to bring you around them because I don’t want one of the few good things in my life to be tainted by them.” 

His silence spurred you on. “I don’t want you to be chased away.” 

“Baby,” He sighed. He walked to where you were in the dining room and leaned against the table in front of you. His legs spread, he put his hands on that plush waist he loves so much, and pulled you towards him. “I don’t want to push you, I’m sorry my insecurity got the better of me. But, you do see where I'm coming from, yes?” 

You sniffed and nodded, “I’d feel the same. I’m sorry I didn’t communicate properly.” 

“You were scared.” He justified it for you. 

“So were you a few minutes ago.” You nudged his shoulder. “If you’re going to validate me, I'm going to validate you.” 

“Two people pleasers in a relationship huh?” He chuckled. 

“That’s why we’re working on communication.” You brought your hands up to his broad shoulders. “Can we talk about this tonight? I just need to organize my thoughts a bit before….” You struggled to find the right words. “Ugh let me start over.” You sighed. 

He couldn’t help his smile, his girl was trying so hard. “I want to be able to eloquently tell you what's going on. It’s not you, it’s not even me, well kind of since I’m not letting you around them. But, they are a big issue.” 

“Okay, I’ll order our favorite takeout and we can talk about it when we’re eating. Is 20 minutes enough to help you get your thoughts together?” 

“Yeah.” You smiled, he wasn’t judging you. He was accepting you. Your neurodivergency and the way your mind worked. He kissed your forehead and went off to order the food. He knew your order by heart. 

-So when you guys got your food, you began to tell the story. How you were never “one of them” despite growing up with them. You were always left out and kids were mean. Then you came out as queer, which didn’t help being left out. Everyone looked at you weird. 

He knew better than anyone how it felt to be left out and hurt by your blood relatives. Granted, completely different situations however both are valid situations. 

He assured you he wasn’t upset at you, he was upset for you. He then told you how he would wait patiently. A couple of times, you almost got enough courage to do it. But then chickened out and just stayed home with him. You never went to those gatherings without someone. To be frank, you preferred Azriel’s company. 

-So when you finally took the plunge it was terrifying. 

-It was your aunt's birthday, a week before thanksgiving. You told them about him, they were all shocked to say the least that you had a partner and had had one for three years. 

-Then you got the normal guilt trip of “why didn’t you say something sooner?” or  “why didn’t you bring him” 

-Not “what’d i do to make you feel unsafe telling me this?” But that’s besides the point. 

-So the next week, you brought him to thanksgiving. 

-Your family was shocked to say the least. 

-That the loudest, vulgar, weird person in their family got the quietest, kindest man. 

-Azriel knew how you felt about this part of the family. You had always felt left out, like you weren’t good enough. You were ostracized as a child from them because you were different. 

-You were the only cousin that wasn’t baptized. Which made you different enough. But you’d rather think for yourself and your parents raised you without religion so you could choose your own path. 

-You cussed, you had tattoos, piercings. You wore clothes you were comfortable in which meant yeah, sometimes you wore a tank top that showed a bit of boobs. You wore all black as well. Also you were the plus size family member and you were queer. So that didn’t help the “fitting in” aspect. 

-He wore a nice black henley and black jeans. As well as his boots. He wanted to make a nice impression even though you told him that he could show up naked and you wouldn’t care. 

-He would. He wasn’t modest but he’d rather not have his future in-laws seeing his ‘monster cock’ as you called it. 

-God, he genuinely loved your vulgarity. 

-He knew how nervous you were, he knew you’d barely eat anything just because of sheer anxiety. His goal was to make sure you ate some appetizers or something.  

-When you walked in, you could tell your family was just floored by him. He greeted everyone with the proper “Mr.” and “Mrs/Ms/Miss.” He shook everyone's hands, smiled at your baby cousins who knew nothing of the strange man but were comfortable enough to wave at him. 

The entire time, he had a hand on your waist. Showing he’s on your side. 

-You warned him that your family was going to eventually get him alone to talk to him about you to which he responded with “let them.” 

They weren’t pissing him off too much. He didn’t like the way some of them were around you. Like you were someone to avoid. When he knew that you were the safest person in the room to any stranger, let alone him. 

”I’m sure sometimes she can be overwhelming.” Your aunt said as if it was a fun little tidbit. But he knew it was a jab. 

If smiles could kill, Azriel’s could’ve maimed her. “Actually she’s perfect.” He let his guard down enough to look at you across the room with your cousins, a lovestruck look on his face. “If she’d let me, I’d marry her tomorrow.” 

Your family was clearly surprised. You had never brought anyone around and now you bring this guy for the first time and he’s ready to marry you? 

-Throughout the day, he kept trying to get you to come out of your shell a bit. 

-When he made you snort in laughter, he let out his first real smile all day. Let these assholes see how happy you make him. 

-Then he noticed your elderly family member glaring at your tattoos. She was caught by Azriel and had the decency to have a look on her face like “can you blame me?” To which he smiled and rolled up his sleeves to show off his ink. 

She had the decency to look embarrassed. 

-Your family quickly began to see a real side of you. One that’s comfortable in her space enough to lean on someone. That someone was Azriel.

-Shortly after the meal, you two left. Claiming you had to go to Azriel’s mothers. They didn’t need to know that you had thanksgiving with her and the whole chosen family the day before. 

-You were finally able to relax when the door shut to the car. You two began the drive back home to the city. 

-You snuggled into him over the center console. Your arm wrapped around his bicep as he drove. You sighed, completely content and he kissed your temple while keeping his eyes on the road. 

“Thank you.” You whispered. 

“What for?” 

“Just…loving me as I am.” 

“You should not feel the need to thank me for that.” He said. 

“Well I am. So deal with it.” You huffed, but you kissed his arm through his shirt. “You’re never embarrassed of me, you take me in stride and love me as if I’m…” You trailed off. “Irreplaceable.” 

“You are.” He said so earnestly that you almost weeped. You squeezed him tighter. “You make me feel so happy, so….loved. I’ve never felt so loved. Those people are fools for not seeing how incredible you are.” 

You felt your eyes getting misty. “You’re so getting head tonight.” You whispered. 

He let out a loud, sharp laugh of surprise. Yeah, he was in it forever. 

[mental-mona]

Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer: What American Jews Fear Most

Fifty-three days ago, citizens of Israel suffered a horrendous attack orchestrated and executed by Hamas.

The solidarity that Jewish Americans initially received from our fellow citizens in the aftermath of Oct. 7 has since waned, drowned out by other, more disturbing voices, even from some we considered allies, while hate crimes against Jews have skyrocketed.

Today, too many Americans are exploiting arguments against Israel and leaping toward a virulent antisemitism. The normalization and intensifying of this rise in hate is the danger many Jewish people fear most.

Since Oct. 7, Jewish-owned businesses that have nothing to do with Israel have been boycotted and vandalized. Jewish students on college campuses have been harassed and assaulted with alarming frequency. A Jewish high school teacher in Queens told me about being forced to hide in a locked office from student protesters who were demanding that she be fired because she attended a rally supporting Israel.

These are just a few examples, but they point to a troubling trend. Too often in Jewish history, legitimate criticism of Israeli policies or even older disputes over religious, economic and political issues have crossed over into something darker, into attacking Jewish people simply for being Jewish.

What happened last week at the Queens high school is an example of crossing that threshold. Walking out of school to march in support of Palestinians is completely legitimate. But forcing a Jewish teacher to hide because she had attended a rally in support of Israel is antisemitism, pure and simple.

For many Jewish people today, the rise of antisemitism is more than a crisis — it’s a five-alarm fire. That’s why I feel compelled to speak out, especially considering the growing disparity between how Jewish people understand the rise of antisemitism and how many of my non-Jewish friends regard it.

While American Jews have always been wary of the hatemongers lurking on the edges of our society, we are proud to be American, because in this country, unlike so many others, our ancestors were able to put down roots and flourish.

Take my own family story. Only in America could an exterminator’s son grow up to be the first Jewish party leader in the Senate.

But many of my family members elsewhere met more tragic ends.

When I was a boy, I learned what happened when the Nazis invaded my family’s town in Ukraine. The Nazis ordered my great-grandmother to gather her extended family on the porch of her home. When the Nazis told her to come with them, she refused, and they gunned her down, along with 30 members of her family, from 85 years old to 3 months old.

When I heard the story of what Hamas and its allies did in Kibbutz Be’eri, where they killed more than 120 Jews, from the elderly to babies, it struck me on a deeply personal level.

Most Jewish Americans have similar stories — stories that we learned at a young age and will stay imprinted on our hearts for as long as we live.

We see and hear things differently from others because we understand the horrors that can follow the targeting of Jewish people. We’ve learned the hard way to fear how such attacks can easily erupt into widespread antisemitism if they are not repudiated. I am sure Arab Americans have similar fears when they see the rise in Islamophobia and horrific crimes like the gut-wrenching murder of the 6-year-old Wadea Al-Fayoume.

Of course, criticizing the Israeli government is not inherently antisemitic. Over the years, I have vehemently disagreed with many of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s policies, especially his administration’s encouragement of settlements in the West Bank, gravely harming prospects for a two-state solution, which I support. I have also been among those who have said that Israel must act according to international law and that humanitarian assistance for Palestinians is critical.

But when criticism against Israel is allowed to cross over into something different — into a denial of a Jewish state in any form, into open calls for the very destruction of Israel, while at the same time the self-determination of other peoples is exalted — that is an example of the discriminatory double standard Jewish people have always found so hurtful. And we worry about what could come next.

Because for centuries, what is good for everybody else has been too often denied to the Jew. Jews could live here but not there; Jews could hold this job but not that.

And to declare that only the Jewish people cannot have their own state, in any form, is a glaring example of that double standard Jewish Americans so fiercely object to.

I implore every person and every community and every institution to stand with Jewish Americans and to denounce antisemitism in all of its forms. Americans are stewards of the flames of liberty, tolerance and equality that warm our melting pot and make it possible for Jewish Americans to prosper alongside Palestinian Americans as well as every other immigrant group.

America has always been exceptional. But when it matters most, are we still a nation that can defy the course of human history, where the Jewish people have been ostracized, expelled and massacred over and over again?

I believe the answer can and must be a resounding yes.

And I will do everything in my power — as Senate majority leader, as a Jewish American, as a citizen of a free society, as a human being — to make it so.

[dorizardthewizard]

Ninjago Crystalized E22 - E30 thoughts

forgot this was in my drafts

EP 22

ronin is a legend. he got done so dirty like... he had such a good arc in s5 only for the writers to revert him to a generic thief. and the ninja were just chill with getting him locked up in ninjago’s prison for the worst criminals?? what the hell guys. add onto this how corrupt/ incompetent the leadership and justice systems in ninjago seem and... phew, that’s some bootlicking from our favourite little legos /hj

nya knowing stuff about plants is so cute. let them have more interests outside of ninja-ing!

the production value on these fights really is good

oh wow master wu could really use an elemental dragon right about now!

"i fished out the last one" LOL

doing it again in the same canal LMAO thats an L having to give wu mouth to mouth. also not sure that’s what you should do with someone who still has water in their lungs

EP 23

aww cute jaya moments

nya has her powers back! wow i sure enjoyed her well developed arc that was so worth them bringing her back!! /s

aww i love these kids having their own little counterattack. kiddos aren’t your families looking for you?

love how antonia went from wanting to quit to being adamant they should fight back

"i am not about to lead a bunch of children against the embodiment of evil and darkness!" soooo like every other season? "that never stopped you before!" TOOK THE WORDS RIGHT OUTTA MY MOUTH LOL DRAG HIM

kind of surprising just how many times wu wants to quit and others have to remind him that ninja never quit, my brother in fsm you taught them that

btw this should have been the s10 ending just oni instead of the overlord. still mad about how rushed that season was.

EP 24

honestly idc about lloyd’s whole angst with his dad, they act like sensei garmadon never existed. evil garmadon hasn’t even been around long enough for lloyd to be super disappointed in him on a personal level like that. why can’t he instead be angry at this garm because he’s not the father he remembers and only serves as a walking reminder that he’ll never see sensei garmadon again.

dragon form let’s goooo

side note i miss lloyd saying dregon

omg the ice emperor are we actually talking about this

oh we're just gonna brush over it and make it a joke. got it.

RONIN MVPPP

borg tower yet againnnn also this guy was so focused on his projects he didn’t realise the apocalypse was happening? i love him

pixal: ronin why are you helping us?

WOW WE REALLY JUST IGNORED SEASON 5 HUH JUSTICE FOR RONIN

EP 25

few notes here bc i was too busy staring at the lava

the way he softly calls coles name when he wakes up ToT

kai fighting by himself to protect cole dsfgsd lowkey wish that fight had been extended for the wump but also so skylor can come just in the nick of time

i like the implication that skylor doesnt keep those powers forever, she has to touch an elemental master again to “recharge” so to speak. makes her much less op so that’s cool.

wu broadcasting on all frequencies but wouldn’t the bad guys hear him too?

that transition from the ninja running over the manhole to lloyd and garmadon being in the sewers is super cool. i love cinema.

lloyd's argument with garmadon gives the implication he's mad at him for never being a good father but THATS A MOVIE PLOT NOT THE SERIES ARRRRGHH

what could’ve been cool if instead they made lloyd not want to embrace his oni side bc he's scared of the anger and resentment building up in him over all these years of being the green ninja. y’know like the fandom keeps harping on about but is never actually portrayed in the show.

one thing i like about these new seasons is the clear motifs and musical character themes. paper delivery professionals for the win.

the paper kids wearing home made outfits with pots on their heads gives me such codename kids next d00r vibes

actually i like these post apocalyptic vibes, with everyone trying to look for each other and hiding but rallying secretly.

aww that happy moment with the family then kai and skylor hhhhngngng if only they delved more into skylor and her childhood crying

EP 26

omg kai finally having his speech skills back!!!

weeeeell kinda. actually it's effective lol he's so cute with kids.

had to pause this skylor and kai moment bc im dying from cringe. also lmao all these seasons and they weren't really together? oh he hasn't even spoken to her all this time?? skylor was at nya's funeral i swear ToT

here's an F for the lava fans. it was a pleasure shipping with you o7

zane is broken yet agaaaaim

if jay and the others could figure out the hint about the newspapers then surely the bad guys could

RACER 7 I MISSED YOUUUUUUUU

also she's basically antonia lmao could they not have thought of a different design

"that paycheck of yours? kiss it goodbye"

I LOVE HER

stop fakeout deathing me with zane lmao we've done this 50 times already. wow she gave up pretty quickly huh.

oh for god's sake they'll reverse the fakeout death THAT quickly? i give up. and he lives just because of an emotional speech? please

can't believe tommy made a big deal about this and made everyone think they would split up somehow. oh wait he does that all the time and the fandom runs away with it every time. if you wanted emotional moments for zane and pixal you had a story about suppressing grief and trauma right there! why was pixal ok with him completely turning off his emotions earlier anyway?

oh well pixal's squeal of delight was adorable though

EP 27

lloyd: relying on others isn’t weak!

cheers i’ll drink to that. again this could have been really impactful after an arc about trusting too much to mistrusting too much to finally hitting that balance.

cuta jaya moment but nya's arc this season is basically generic “believe in yourself” and like. we've done that before. they literally just brought her back to return to the status quo for the “last” season.

racer 7: speed. i am speed.

ok i know i complain about ignoring the old seasons but at least they tried to tie in the other new seasons like calling vania and benthomar and all that. it's basically a replacement for when previous seasons would bring back the other EMs and such and i guess it makes sense since this is a different era of ninjago. all of that falls apart when they insist on bringing back characters like garmadon though...

oh finally they didn’t fall into the canal for once!

oh no if they make cole and vania get together i’m gonna...read the entire hs epilogues and hs2. worst thing i could think of.

the others are either gonna find another way to find out what happened and come to help them in the nick of time, or this was just a way of explaining why no one else came to help.

EP 28

oops i watched the final eps drunk after a party and I still haven’t gone back to rewatch them ^^; umm fun moments, dragon form was ???? out of nowhere and should have had a whole season centred around achieving this form, Nya’s character regressed, rushed ending considering how much history they had to tie up, llorumi bad and i miss those little legos already

[firstkeptdaughter]

“Letting someone see you that vulnerable, it’s a scary thing.”

There she is. Oriana. She still has the same eyes as she did nineteen years ago when Miranda held her in her arms, a frail, small infant back then. Looking into the young woman’s face is almost like staring into a mirror; they’re identical. Genetically. But Oriana looks different, regardless, with an expression in those otherwise identical eyes of someone who hasn’t seen the kind of things that Miranda has. Fortunately.

Miranda made sure of that, those nineteen years ago, by saving her sister from her father. It’s a decision she will never come to second guess.

Miranda instinctively smiles as she looks at her sister. And just, like Oriana did as a baby, she returns that smile in an instant. Her adoptive parents are with her, loving parents that Miranda carefully chose because Oriana only deserved the best. She’s done it. She’s given Oriana everything that she could never have. A normal family, a normal life, friends.

Then, she turns to leave. The movement feels as if one of two magnets attracted to each other were pushed back with such force to prevent them from touching. It took every bit of strength she had in her to leave Oriana. Memories of the moment when she, a sixteen-year-old girl, had to leave Oriana behind, come to the surface. It had been the most heart-wrenching decision of her life.

“It’s for the best”, Miranda asserted. “Oriana has a normal life. I’ll just complicate that for her. The less she knows about me, the better.”

She cannot hide that insecurity in her voice. Miranda wants to sound pragmatic, but she can’t. The desire to get to know the sister she had been watching over from a distance for nineteen years is palpable in her voice. Shouldn’t she? Miranda couldn’t imagine the happiness from even just one conversation with Oriana, but how selfish would it be? Once she became part of Oriana’s life, there was no return.

But, if she stayed, she would hurt Oriana sooner or later, wouldn’t she? She wasn’t like her sister. Miranda had a reputation for being ruthless and cold and in a way, it was true. As much as she loathed Henry, Miranda saw parts of him inside her. And she couldn’t let Henry near Oriana. That extended to the parts within her.

Yet, for some reason, her squadmate manages to convince her to talk to Oriana. With a few mere words. Normally, it takes a chain of well-funded arguments to convince Miranda of something, and even that could prove futile. But when Kaidan argues that Oriana should know she has a sister out there who loves her, Miranda merely nods. “You’re right”, she speaks, softly, her voice not resembling her usual tone one shred. It’s strangely tender.

It’s only when she returns, she notices that her cheeks are wet with tears. Had Kaidan noticed? Hopefully not. She wasn’t comfortable crying around people. It’s the reason why she has avoided looking into Kaidan’s face since laying eyes on Oriana.

“We’re done here”, Miranda declares, back in her usual professional, authoritative tone. As if she didn’t just go through one of the most meaningful experiences of her life. “Oriana is safe. My father won’t be able to track her down anymore.” She assured, with her back still turned towards her squadmate. With a subtle movement, she wipes away the tears from her face with the sleeve of her catsuit. Then she takes a deep breath and turns to Kaidan.

She’s about to tell him they should head back to the ship, but then Kaidan speaks up.

“Letting someone see you that vulnerable, it’s a scary thing.”

Damnit. She wants to huff, or roll her eyes, but she can’t. The lieutenant and his tendency to say such profound things in the rare moment where it has the capability to affect Miranda.

In any other circumstances, she would’ve shot back with a witty remark. Something along the lines of her not being vulnerable. But in those very circumstances right now Miranda isn’t able to come up with anything like that.

“I guess so..”, she hesitantly agrees, crossing her arms in defensiveness. “I’m not good with ‘vulnerable’. Typically I can solve my problems through more scientific approaches - or with a simple bullet.” She quipped wryly.

[babymetaldoll]

"Victory" (Spencer Reid/ Reader)

Requested: Yes

Summary: Spencer's daughter hates her father's girlfriend. But when he is in prison, life pushes them to finally get along.

Warning: Cursing, a little angst, a mean teenager, and fluff.

Word count: 5,4K

A/N: Hello, pretty people! How are you? I've missed you! Life has been a little messy and filled with angst, so writing hasn't come easy in the lastest weeks. Hope you like this story, and I hope I can bring you a new one soon 😉

Masterlist

»»————-　　————-««

Spencer's daughter hated her dad's new girlfriend. And she wasn't subtle about it. She hated that her father was now dating, 'cos she didn't want to share his love. So now she didn't even want to be around him anymore 'cos he was so happy, it was annoying.

It wasn't that she hated her father, 'cos she loved him. But she was never going to face the fact she was jealous. She didn't want to share Spencer with anyone because he was all the family she knew, and they were a team.

Victoria Reid was twelve years old. She had grown up alone with her dad 'cos her mother had ditched the two of them soon after she was born. Spencer had tried to explain to his daughter her mom had left 'cos she wasn't ready to deal with the responsibility of being a mother, which was true. He, on the other hand, was happy to know he was going to be a father, and he repeated over and over again she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

That was true.

When Spencer and his ex found out they were going to be parents, he was ecstatic. He couldn't wait to hold his baby in his arms and watch them grow. He didn't know his girlfriend had other plans, though, and soon after Victoria was born, she had left the two of them and never looked back.

Spencer wasn't going to lose the chance of being a dad. Even when he knew he was too young, Reid was ready to raise that baby on his own and give her all the love he had.

That's why he and Victoria were so close. Spencer was the only parent she had ever had. He was her world. And though Spencer was only 24 when Tori was born, he had given her his best.

Tori was the BAU's baby girl. Everybody in the team was a part of her life because she had grown up with them. Penelope was her best friend and godmother. Victoria would spend a lot of time with her while her dad was away on a case. Derek was her cool uncle. He helped her train to get into the basketball team and taught her how to dance. JJ was the closest to a mother figure in her life. Tori would spend time with her after school, playing with Henry. Spencer always said JJ was like a sister for him, and that's why they were all like family. Tori actually called Henry and Michel her cousins.

Emily was like her best friend. They could talk about anything, and at least twice a month, they would go out together shopping, just the two of them. Spencer always respected his daughter's relationship with his friend 'cos they were their little extended family. Tori called Rossi "Nono." He had taught her himself, and she loved going to his mansion, 'cos he always had new video games to play with her.

But then came (Y/N). She had joined the team when Victoria was only six years old, and for the first five years, they got along just fine. (Y/N) would come along shopping with her and Emily, sometimes she took Tori out for some pastries, and talked about bands, boys. Victoria loved her.

That until the incident.

She hated (Y/N) after the incident.

Victoria refused to talk to her after THE INCIDENT.

It was a warm spring afternoon, Spencer and (Y/N) had the afternoon off, and they were at his apartment... heavily making out on the couch. That's why they lost track of time.

(Y/N) and Spencer had started dating a few months before. They had been in love with each other for years. Still, neither of them had acted on it until Rossi's birthday party, when they had a little too many drinks and finally confessed their feelings. They wanted to take things slow, but when you make out in front of the whole team, it might be a little harder imagined.

But they had decided to wait for the right time to tell Victoria. But, unfortunately, the right time didn't come soon enough.

- "Dad!! I'm home!!"- Victoria opened the front door and froze in shock at the scene going on in front of her. The twelve-year-old had asked her best friend's mother to drop her home earlier when Penelope told her Spencer had already gone home. In Garcia's defense, she had no idea what was going on in Reid's residence, and if she had known, she would have never let Victoria know her dad was home.

(Y/N) widened her eyes and quickly grabbed a pillow to cover herself. She was shirtless, sitting on Spencer's lap. She still had her bra on (thank god), but anyone could tell that scene was leading to the bedroom in a few seconds.

- "Shit!"- Spencer whispered and closed his eyes as he realized what was going on. (Y/N) held her breath as she stared into the young teen's eyes. Victoria didn't know what to do or what to say, so she simply ran to her room and slammed the door.

- "Ok... so I think Tori knows about us"- (Y/N) tried to ease the mood and smiled at her boyfriend as she put on her shirt. But Spencer sighed and covered his face with both hands- "Oh, come on. It doesn't have to be a bad thing. Let me talk to her."

- "No, (Y/N), let me talk to her first."- Spencer stood up and kissed (Y/N) 's nose- "I know she is mad, and I should be the one dealing with her anger."

Reid knew his daughter well enough to anticipate her behavior. People had often told him he could be a little passive-aggressive when he was upset. And his daughter was just like him.

- "Victoria, open the door!"- he said and waited a few seconds after knocking.

- "Go away!"- the teenager yelled, laying on her bed. She felt betrayed and confused. But most of all, she felt angry that her father had decided to have a girlfriend. He had no right to do such a thing. He had to take care of her and her grandma. No one else.

- "Victoria, we need to talk about this!"

- "You seemed too busy with your girlfriend to talk to me, dad. So go away!"

- "Victoria Marie!"- Spencer knocked on the door but got no answer from his daughter. (Y/N) heard it all from the couch and tried to think of a way to fix things with the young girl.

Sadly, it wasn't going to be easy, and in the months that followed, everything was far from being normal again.

- "I hate her!"- Victoria huffed and left her book aside. Spencer was trying to explain to her why (Y/N) would stay with her and Diana while he took a short work trip for the weekend. But the girl didn't want to hear a word about it.

- "You used to get along with her just fine until we started dating."- Spencer tried to dialogue with his daughter. Still, it was honestly getting harder and harder each time they touched the subject.

- "Used to. You just said it. I have the right to change my mind about people. Why can't I stay with auntie Penelope for the weekend?"

- "Because I want you to make an effort and try to get along with (Y/N) again. Victoria, we've been through this before. I love you, and that's not going to change just because I am dating (Y/N)."

- "This is so unfair! I hate you!!"

Spence tried to stay calm, but after over four-month having the same argument almost every day, he was losing it. Victoria stormed out and slammed her bedroom door behind her back. Maybe it was better not to push it, Spencer thought, defeated, and called Penelope to ask her if his daughter could spend the weekend with her, 'cos he had to travel. Maybe Victoria and (Y/N) weren't going to get along if he forced them to spend time together.

Everyone had already tried to talk to her about what was going on: JJ, Emily, Penelope. But Victoria wasn't ready to give in. She wanted to hate (Y/N), and nothing was going to change that. Or so she thought.

The day Penelope showed up in Victoria's school and announced her something had happened to her dad was engraved in the girl's memory forever as the worst day of her life. Her father had been arrested in Mexico, but Garcia had assured her, the whole team was working to bring him home safe. Meanwhile, she would stay with her in her apartment (she was already there anyway), and Diana would stay home with her nurse.

Victoria's heart was broken. She was basically alone in the whole world. Her father was her anchor. Her protector. Her superhero. Her best friend. And now, all of a sudden, he was gone, and though everybody told her it was going to be ok, she knew it wasn't.

- "Hey,"- (Y/N) walked into Penelope's office and found Victoria doing her homework- "Pen told me you were here, and I thought maybe you'd like one of these."

The young SSA said and handed the girl a box of fresh chocolate frosted with sprinkled donuts and a strawberry milkshake. Her favorites.

But Victoria didn't reply. Instead, she looked at (Y/N) right in the eyes, not moving a muscle, and then returned to her homework.

It had been two weeks since Spencer had been accused of murder, and he had been transferred to Virginia. But the team was far from solving the case.

- "Ok, Tori, please stop this. I know you don't like me dating your dad, but this is not the right time to fight. I know..."- (Y/N) made a short pause and took a deep breath before resuming her idea- "I know how you feel."

- "No. You don't."- Victoria Reid's voice was loud and clear, like thunder, hitting earth with anger. So clear, in fact, (Y/N) widened her eyes when she heard her.

- "You have no idea how I feel. Your dad ain't in jail accused of killing some woman in Mexico. You have no right to tell me that!"

- "My boyfriend and best friend in the whole world is in jail right now, and it doesn't matter if I work myself to death 18 hours every single fucking day; I still can't find the way to help him. I feel lost and alone, and most of all, scared, 'cos I've come to realize I have no idea how to live without him anymore. I'm guessing that's very close to what you feel."

(Y/N) poured her heart with complete honesty to her boyfriend's daughter, fighting the tears back, though you could feel the desperation in her voice. She didn't know if it would be of any use, but she had to take that from her chest. She missed Spencer so much she felt she was going insane. She had no idea what to do.

Victoria stared at her, furrowing her eyes and pouting. She didn't want to cry in front of (Y/N) 'cos she didn't want her trying to console her.

- "Just because you are dating him doesn't mean you have to take care of me. I can take care of myself."- Tori said and looked at the donut. She was hungry, they looked delicious, but the teenager didn't want to accept any gift coming from (Y/N).

- "I am not here because you are my boyfriend's daughter. I thought you were a cool kid way before I fell in love with him."- (Y/N) tried to calm herself down and sat across the table from Victoria- "And I am not trying to steal him from you. I just wanna... make him happy."

- "We were happy,"- the teenager's comeback was like a slap on (Y/N) 's face, but she did her best not to take it personally. She knew it was useless fighting with a teenager.

- "I have a visit scheduled for tomorrow. If you'd like, we could go together."

Tori held her breath. She hadn't seen her father since he left for Mexico. Of course, Victoria wanted to see him and hug him. It was all she wanted in the whole world. But... she didn't want to be friendly with (Y/N).

- "If I go... it doesn't mean I like you."- the young girl whispered.

- "I know"- (Y/N) nodded, feeling already triumphant.

- "And it doesn't mean I'm ok with you dating him."

- "I understand. I just know you miss him, Tori. I really know how you feel, and I'm gonna help you whenever I get a chance."- Victoria didn't answer; she just sighed and grabbed a donut. (Y/N) tried not to smile, feeling she had a small victory.

Spencer couldn't believe it when he saw his little girl waiting for him sitting next to (Y/N) instead of his lawyer in the small grey room. Victoria stood up and ran to him the second the door opened and wrapped her arms around her father as tight as possible.

(Y/N) looked at the guards, thankful neither of them had tried to stop the teenager.

Spencer kissed his daughter's cheek a few times and whispered how sorry he was to put her under those circumstances. He didn't know what to do or what to say. He was speechless. A part of him hated the idea of his daughter visiting him in jail, but he also missed her too much to argue with (Y/N) for bringing her over.

- "I'll go fill a few forms. Be right back"- (Y/N) whispered and saw Spencer's warm smile as he mouthed "Thank you," still hugging his daughter. She whispered, "I love you," and walked outside the room. She knew Victoria would appreciate a few minutes alone with her father, and she didn't want to take that away from them. She really wanted to make Spencer and Tori happy, and spending time together was what they needed.

- "I know this is hard, peanut, but we'll get through it. I'll be out in a few weeks. I promise"- Spencer held his daughter's hands as they sat across the table.

- "I miss you"- her voice was a soft whisper, as she kept trying not to cry anymore. She didn't want to make him feel guilty, sad, or anxious.

- "Me too. How are you? How is living with aunt Penelope going?"

- "Ok... we watch a lot of movies."

- "And school?"- Tori shrugged.

- "Ok, I guess."

- "Victoria..."

- "I got a C on my history paper."

- "Baby..."

- "I know, I know, I should have tried harder, but I really didn't want to do it."

Spencer was torn between lecturing his daughter for getting a bad grade and actually telling her it was ok, 'cos they were going through a rough patch. It was obvious she might get bad grades, all things considered.

- "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you"- it was all Spencer managed to whisper.

- "Don't say that, dad. I'm sorry I slacked off."

- "You know, you could ask (Y/N) for help,"- Spencer suggested, but Tori just rolled her eyes, annoyed- "She has a master in the subject..."

- "Dad, please don't force me to talk to her."

- "I'm just saying... you don't have to be her best friend, just ask for help when needed, especially when it comes to school. Besides, it's clear she isn't a bad person if she brought you here today."

- "She just wants to win me over."- Tori mumbled and crossed her arms on her chest. But she knew her dad was right in one thing: (Y/N) had done a pretty good thing taking her to see her dad and letting them spend time together on their own.

Victoria thought she was losing her mind after three months had passed and her father was still in jail. It didn't matter that (Y/N) took her every Saturday morning to visit, played her favorite music, and bought her all the pastries she loved. She needed to live with her father again and do all the small things they loved: making breakfast together, playing scrabble, taking long walks in the park, eating ice cream. Tori even missed her father's annoying habits. She missed his rambling and how he always had an answer for everything, even for the things she didn't want to talk about with him.

Spencer was an amazing father, no questions asked, and Victoria Reid knew she couldn't ask for a better dad than him. She just wanted him back.

But things weren't going to improve soon.

When the team found out Diana Reid had been kidnapped, (Y/N) had to take a minute and lock herself in the bathroom to cry her heart out. She felt bad things were never going to cease, and she didn't want to tell Victoria. The girl had already been through so much, adding the abduction of her grandmother wasn't fair. Tori was just twelve. She shouldn't be going through all that.

- "Victoria?"

Prentiss decided she was going to be the one to tell the girl what was going on, and (Y/N) offered herself to look for her. She was in Rossi's office, reading a book curled on his comfy couch. That poor kid almost lived at the BAU by then.

- "My homework is done."- she replied, not taking her eyes from the page she was reading.

- "That's good. And what are you reading?"- Tori sighed and showed her the cover- "Something Wicked this way comes," I love that book"- (Y/N) smiled and took a look around.

- "Figured my father forced you to read it."

- "Actually, I read it when I was ten, and it's one of my favorite books."- (Y/N) looked at Victoria, but the teenager kept pretending to read, ignoring her- "Emily needs to talk to you."

- "And why are you here? Why didn't aunt Emily come? Are you her secretary?"- there was something about Victoria's attitude that reminded (Y/N) of Reid.

- "I wanted to see you, see how you were doing, and take you to the conference room"- Tori sighed and stood up. She hoped Emily had good news about her father, 'cos she was honestly going insane.

But of course, Prentiss didn't have any good news.

- "I'm sorry, Tori, but... you are going to have to stay here tonight"- the girl frowned, confused, and looked at the whole team around her. Everybody looked like they hadn't slept in days. Which, by the way, was very accurate.

- "Why?"

- "'Cos we are going to have to..."- Emily paused and held her breath, staring at her niece's eyes.- "I'm sorry, Tori, but this is the truth: the woman who framed your father has kidnapped Diana, and I'm scared she might try to get you too. So until we catch her, the safest place to be is here, at the BAU. With us."

Tori gasped and covered her mouth with both hands as tears filled her eyes in a second.

- "Nana? Is she ok?"

- "We don't know yet, but we are working to bring her home safe as soon as possible"- JJ caressed Tori's arm and tried to hold her, but she pushed her away mad frowned.

- "You keep saying that, you keep telling me you are working to bring my family home safe, but so far, you haven't done anything!! I am still alone! Dad is in jail, and everybody knows he is innocent! And now nana is gone too!!"

- "Baby, we know it is hard, but..."- Emily wanted to explain to Victoria everything was more complex than they had expected, but the girl covered her ears and shook her head, yelling as she stormed out of the room

- "I don't wanna hear you!! I want my dad!!"

It was painful to hear those things, 'cos the team was doing the best they could for Reid and his family, but they could understand the frustration and, most of all, the fear that little girl felt.

- "I'll talk to her,"- (Y/N) said and turned to Emily- "You guys continue what you were doing. I'll try to calm her down."

- "Are you sure you wanna go?"- Emily asked and cut (Y/N) a short smile.

- "Yeah, for once, she is mad at all of us, not just me."

The young SSA walked to Garcias's office, where Tori was hidden underneath a desk, crying.

- "Hey."

- "Leave me alone."

- "I know I'm the last person you wanna be with right now, and I am sorry I can't do anything to make you feel better. I can only promise you this: we are doing all we can to bring your dad and your grandmother back home safe." - (Y/N) whispered as she walked slowly towards the girl, who sobbed, whipping off the tears from her eyes.

- "Just leave me alone. I want to be alone,"- Tori mumbled and wrapped her arms around herself, sobbing.

- "I'm not gonna leave you alone, Tori. You are not alone here with us."

- "I am alone!! I want my daddy!! I need my daddy!!"- the girl continued crying her eyes out, hidden underneath the desk. (Y/N) kneeled next to her and sat on the floor.

- "Come here"- it was a bold move, 'cos (Y/N) knew the girl was going to reject her, but she didn't care. She couldn't deal with her sadness, and it scared her to think how bad the child was feeling. So, (Y/N) opened her arms and moved the teen closer to her.

Surprisingly, the girl didn't reject her. Instead, she cried against the fabric of (Y/N) 's sweater and sobbed, shaking, as (Y/N) caressed her hair carefully.

- "I swear, we are not gonna rest until he is free and until Diana is home."

- "I want my family back,"- Victoria mumbled and sighed.

- "You'll get it. I swear, I'll do everything I can to bring them back to you."

That was the first time since (Y/N) started dating Spencer that Victoria let her close. In the middle of the mess they were all lost into, it felt like a little break of peace. Another small victory for the young woman.

(Y/N) didn't mind spending the whole night awake going through an endless pile of files if it meant there was a chance to bring Spencer back home. Tori stayed in Rossi's office, where she made something that looked pretty much like a fort on the couch, with blankets and pillows, to hide from the rest of the world.

It was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time, looking at the girl hidden there, trying to read, trying to draw, trying to do anything to take her mind from reality. Penelope brought her something to eat, but she rejected it, saying she wasn't hungry. Emily and JJ had tried to talk to her, but Tori kindly said she wanted to be alone. Even Morgan had called her and announced to her he was taking a plane from Chicago to help the team looking for Diana.

None of that cheered Victoria up.

- "I bought you this,"

Around ten, (Y/N) opened Rossi's door and walked in, holding a box of frosted chocolate donuts with sprinkles.

- "They always cheer your dad up, so I'm counting they will do the trick with you too"- the young woman tried to joke but found Victoria crying quietly insider her fort.

- "Please, just leave me alone,"- she whispered and hid her face with both her hands. (Y/N) didn't pay attention and sat with her inside the fort.

- "Not a chance."

- "I really don't wanna do this now, just leave me alone,"- the girl sighed, defeated, and continued crying.

- "Come here, I told you, you are not alone."

- "I am alone, (Y/N)! My dad is in jail, my grandma is kidnapped, and my mother left me 'cos she didn't love me!"

- "No, baby, don't say that"- (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Tori and kissed the top of her head.

- "I know my mom didn't want to have me, and maybe she was right... maybe I am cursed, and all this is my fault."

- "Victoria Marie Reid, you are talking senseless" (Y/N) held the girl's shoulder and looked into her eyes.

- "You are an adorable young girl who deserves the best in the world. Why did this happen? I don't know, bad shit happens in life, and we must try to learn something from it. That's it. There's no reason or cause. Shit happens, baby, but we must raise stronger than before. You are an incredible young girl, and I know your dad is proud of you. I am proud of you, 'cos you've been so courageous and brave."

- "You are just saying that 'cos you are with my dad."

- "No. I would say that even if I hated your dad. You know why? 'Cos I am not lying, you are awesome, and I love you, get that into your head. And you are not alone, 'cos I am here, see?"- (Y/N) ran her thumb on Tori's cheek, whipping off a few of her tears- "I'm here even when you don't want me to be, so I don't know if you can tell, but you are doomed, you can't get rid of me now. I'm like a disease, but a good one... I don' know if there's a good disease. I'm sure your dad would have the answer for my random comment right now."

Both Victoria and (Y/N) chuckled at the same time, and the girl nodded.

- "He definitely would..."

- "He would also lecture me why I shouldn't give you sugar after dinner, but he is not here, and I am not telling him, so please don't tell him 'cos he is going to be mad at me... and at you."- (Y/N) handed Tori the box of donuts, and the girl smiled.

- "I won't tell him."

- "Great, we have our own little sugary secret. Eat all the donuts you want; I'm going to be with the team in the conference room. Emily has a meeting early morning with the judge."- (Y/N) kissed the top of Vitoria's head and stood up.

- "If you need anything, I'm across the hall."- the SSA said, and the girl nodded, chewing a donut.

- "Thank you, (Y/N)"

By the next day, the miracle had happened. Victoria couldn't stop crying when (Y/N) announced she was taking Spencer back home. Tori stood in front of his father's girlfriend and felt how the tears filled her eyes in less than a minute. Happy tears, for once.

(Y/N) smiled at her, glad to know the young girl was going to have her life back. It surprised her when Tori hugged her, wrapping her arms around her tight. (Y/N) stayed still for an instant, trying to understand what was happening. She hugged Victoria and kissed the top of her head. The child was crying, and suddenly, so was she. The nightmare was over. At least a part of it. They still needed to find Diana. But the fact they were going to have Reid back was already giving everybody the peace of mind they needed to finish the task.

(Y/N) held Spencer's hand tight all the way from the prison to the BAU. He kept his eyes locked on their hands, fingers tangled together. He couldn't believe it was actually happening. He couldn't believe he was a free man.

- "How's Tori?"- he whispered and turned to his girlfriend. Penelope and Luke were in the car with them, but somehow, Spencer could only register the presence of his girlfriend. Not because he didn't care about his friends, but because he could only take just a small amount of information at the time. It was all too much for him at that moment.

- "Good. She has been incredibly strong."

- "Did you tell her about mom?"- Spencer was afraid to ask but needed to know what was going on with his daughter. (Y/N) nodded and sighed.

- "We decided it was better if she knew what was happening, we had to keep her at the BAU, and she was going to get suspicious she couldn't go to Penelope's... sorry."

- "Don't be. You did what was best for her."- Spencer turned to his girlfriend and smiled at her for a second. It was a short, sweet smile. Almost shy. But it was enough to warm her heart and wake the butterflies in her stomach. She was so in love with Spencer Reid, everything he did fluster her.

Victoria thought her heart was about to burst as he waited for her father to arrive. Spencer looked at (Y/N) one last time, and she squeezed his hand kindly, smiling when the elevator door opened, and all he heard was:

- "Daddy!!"- Tori yelled and ran to hug Spencer as soon as she saw him. He couldn't even step out of the elevator when his daughter nearly tackled him, wrapping her arms around him tight.

- "My baby!"- he whispered and spun her in the air a few times- "Are you ok?"- he held her face with both hands and took a good look at her. She was crying but smiling as she nodded.

- "I'm so happy to see you, dad."

- "I missed you so, so much"- Spencer kissed the top of her head and sighed. (Y/N) smiled, and whipped off the tears from her eyes as she stared at the scene. Garcia and Luke stood next to her, enjoying a brief moment of happiness and peace.

- "Me more,"- Victoria whispered and hugged Spencer again- "I swear I'm never going to fight with you again."

- "I'm taking a mental note of that,"- he answered and felt her body shaking as she giggled. Spencer hadn't heard his daughter laugh, giggle, or even watched her smile in the three months he had spent away from her. And that sound was sweet and warm, like a balm to his soul.

- "I'm sorry, Spencer... but, we have to..."- Emily interrupted the moment and smiled at her friend. They all knew they still had to do one more thing before celebrating. They had to take Diana Reid back home safe and sound. Victoria let her father go and smiled at him.

- "I love you, dad."

- "I love you too, princess."

And as the team walked to the conference room to brief Spencer about the case and update him with the latest information, (Y/N) felt someone hold her hand.

- "Thank you,"- Victoria whispered and cut her a smile that warmed her heart.

- "Come here,"- she answered and turned around to wrap her arms around her for a second. Spencer looked at them, and for once, he didn't know what to say. Victoria and (Y/N) just stood in the middle of the hall, hugged for a few minutes, and Reid couldn't believe it. It was so heartwarming and emotional; he really didn't know how to react.

- "Come on, dad!! You are going to miss the movie!"- Victoria yelled and set the popcorn on the coffee table.

- "You can pause it!"- Spencer yelled from his desk, where he was finishing writing a letter for his mother.

- "Or you can hurry!"- Tori answered and sat on the couch.

- "Here's your tea, your highness"- (Y/N) walked to the girl holding a tray filled with cups and more snacks- "Come on, honey! We are not waiting for you!"

Three months after prison and life had never been so good for Spencer, Victoria, and (Y/N).

- "I had never seen you so eager to watch a Marvel movie, since when are you two fans of Thor?"- Spencer walked to the living room, hearing his girlfriend and daughter laugh.

- "Always, huge fan."- (Y/N) smiled and tapped on the couch. Reid sat between his two women and sighed.

- "I can smell the sarcasm in the air."

- "No, honey. We love Thor, right Tori?"

- "Yes! Big fans, huge, the biggest fans"- Spencer looked at his daughter and raised an eyebrow.

- "Ok, I'll buy it. Let's watch the movie."

(Y/N) and Tori giggled at the very same moments like they were sharing a secret joke Spencer couldn't understand, but he didn't really matter. He was happy, his heart was content, and there was nothing more perfect that minute, 'cos his family was all on the same couch, watching a movie, enjoying an afternoon together. Like he had always dreamt of.

----

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@all-tings-diego @spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy

[bbyblackcat]

My abortion story.

When i was 21 I moved out for the first time with my now ex boyfriend. We moved in to the apartment in July around this time back in 2015. Things were ok at first but once my boyfriend started to drink the rose coloured glasses came off really quick. 

My ex expected me to do all the house work because he worked a “real job” and deserved to get to come home and not clean up after himself. Then he stared getting angry and doing things he’s never done before. 

He got mad at me and smashed an xbox controller at my feet, He threw beer bottles at me. He started demanding i go to bed when he decided it was time for bed, and if that meant going to bed at 6:30 on a friday night then i would be laying in the bed and when i said no it was a disgusting argument everytime.

Then it got worse he pushed me into the wall and punched a hole beside my face, he threw a beer bottle and it actually hit me. This was the hardest time of my life never did i expect moving out with him would become like this.

One night we got into a fight in front of our room mates girlfriend. I couldnt even tell you what the fight was about because he would pick fights with me over something as simple as forgetting to put something on his dinner. I dont remember what caused him to turn around that night and push me into the wall and put his hand around my neck. But i can tell you i NEVER thought i would be there where i was standing. 

A few months after that i found out i was pregnant. And the only reason i found out? I was going in for dental work and they did a test before putting me under.

 I had been prescribed the wrong birth control. You see i had gotten off the shot and went onto extended birth control meaning i would take 3 months at a time with 1 week off every 3 months. My dr gave me a kind of pill that should not be taken in that way and there were reports of women getting pregnant on that pill when doing so. 

I found out December 11 2015. And i decided right away that I couldnt have a child with him. I’ve always wanted kids to be a mother has been something I’ve wanted since i was a kid. It was never a question in my mind that i wanted a family of my own when a grew up. But unfortunately i wasnt grown up. I just moved into a new apartment. I was working a minimum wage job only being able to afford my bills. My ex told me right away if i chose to have the baby i would be doing it alone. 

On December 23 2015 my mom took me to have an abortion. Where was the man who helped create the baby? Oh he told his work he needed the day off and stayed home to play video games. People say adoption but why? so they could find me in 18 years and ask why i gave them up but had kids later on. So i could tell them what an awful pos their dad was.

Or should I have kept the child and had them grow up like my ex did. An alcoholic father who abuses their mother. a man who wants nothing to do with his kid and chooses to not be in their lives. So poor having to take from the gov since my ex wasnt going to support me. 

7 years ago i was able to choose how my life would be. Just 7 years ago i made the choice to take the path i wanted to. 

I’m not ashamed of choosing to have an abortion and i never will be. Banning abortions doesn't stop abortion. It only stops safe abortions. And just like how you didnt want to be forced to have a vaccine and risk life altering changes, I dont want to be forced to be a mom.

[howlingday]

Jaune: (Walking through the forest with Yang, Looks at a wanted poster on a tree) Hey, Yang, who's that? She kind of looks like you.

Yang: That's Raven Branwen, the supposed "Bandit Queen" around here. Don't bother getting involved with her. She'd just make you look stupid. (Sighs, Looks away) It wouldn't be the first time.

Jaune: ...Right. (Touches her hand) Yang, you know I love you, right?

Yang: ...Yeah, I know. (Holds his hand, Doesn't look at him) Even if you don't deserve someone like me.

Jaune: (Pulls his hand away) What do you mean? Are you saying I'm not good enough for you?

Yang: (Looks at him) What?! No! I know we've only been dating for a few months, but it's not like that! If anything, it's the other way around!

Jaune: (Angry) So you're saying you're too good for me now?!

Yang: No! Argh! You are so annoying right now! What I meant was- (A loud thud is heard nearby, Gunfire explodes in the distance) What was that?

From the treeline, a band of armed thugs barrel out waving their weapons around, hooting and hollering, roaring and barking as they circle the couple. A tree falls, it's trunk sliced clean as a woman with black hair and red eyes walks forward. She sheathes her sword as she sways her hips. She looks exactly like the woman in the wanted poster, becauseshe is the woman from the wanted poster; Raven Branwen.

Raven: Don't waste your breath with her. (Stops in front of the couple) She never understood true power, even when it stared her in the face.

Jaune: Wait, you're-

Raven: Raven Branwen, Bandit Queen. (Bandits roar and cheer until they're silenced by Raven's extended hand, She leans forward into Jaune's face) And you are just my type.

Jaune: (Blushing) Uh, you look just like my girlfriend.

Raven: Well, she is my daughter.

Yang: Stop leering at her, you perv! And you, I thought you didn't want anything to do with me!

Raven: I didn't, but when Tai told me about this boy you're dating, I had to see for myself. He reminds me a lot of him. (Licks her lips) I bet he tastes the same, too. Shay! Vernal!

Shay & Vernal: Yes, ma'am!

Raven: Make sure she doesn't interfere. I want to play with my food right now

Shay & Vernal: Yes, ma'am!

Raven: What's your name, handsome?

Jaune: Uh, Jaune. Jaune Arc.

Raven: Mm, short, sweet, and rolls off the tongue. I bet the ladies love it.

Jaune: Uh...

Raven: If you didn't hear, I'm Raven Branwen. But, the only thing you'll call me from now on is either ma'am or mommy.

Jaune: (Chuckling) That's funny. I like you, Ms. Branwen!

Yang: (Thinking) What is she doing?! Is she... trying to steal Jaune?! (Shakes her head) Whatever! Jaune loves me! He won't surrender to her! ...But we did have that fight just now. He might actually leave me for her. ...No! I just have to put my faith in Jaune! I know he'll stay with me!

Raven: Now, Jaune, what say we have some fun?

Raven unsheathes Omen, taking a combative stance in front of Jaune, who, in turn, unsheathes Crocea Mors. Raven swings at Jaune, holding back her strength as she tests Jaune's skill. Soon, Jaune is beading with sweat as Raven lazily parries and swings at him. Jaune slips into her guard, forcing her to jump back. She chuckles as she watches him pant.

Raven: Not bad, boy. Not bad at all.

Jaune: This... This is too much! I can see why you're the Bandit Queen now.

Raven: What are you staring so hard at me for, boy? You want me? Here, (Takes off her armor, Her perfect-fit clothing underneath leaves nothing to the imagination) have a closer look.

Jaune: (Stammers, Looks to Yang)

Yang: Stop showing off like that, Mom! Why couldn't you just stay out of my love life like dad? In fact, why don't you just stay out of my life?!

Shay: Hey, kid, settle down!

Vernal: Queen Raven ordered us to keep you in place, so that's what we're going to do.

Yang: And having your goons keep me from kicking your butt?! You're the worst!

Raven: Your boyfriend doesn't seem to think that. Just look at how he's panting just from being near me. (Jaune gulps) Tell me, Jaune. What do you like most about me? Is it my lovely hair? My intoxicating scent? Or is something else catching your eyes?

Jaune: C-Can we go back to fighting, please?!

Yang: Why are you dodging the question, you creep?! (Thinking) I'm losing him. It's subtle, but... There's no doubt about it. It can't end like this. Not after everything we've been through!

Raven: Remember this, Jaune; there's a difference between a girl and a woman. Allow me to show you the difference.

Raven swings with more intent this time, forcing Jaune to block and dodge with more caution, as she now kicks at any opening she finds. Jaune slips into her guard again, forcing the two to lock blades. However, Raven takes advantage of this to blow a kiss at Jaune, who flinches and jumps away. Raven follows up with thrust, parry, and slice combination. Jaune noticed Raven switched to a two-handed style, and decided to respond in kind. The battle became more even as Raven began sweating from the effort she was putting in. Jaune leaped away, panting, and stuck his sword into the dirt.

Jaune: Okay, I'm done! I've had enough, Ms. Branwen!

Raven: Aw, what's the matter, baby. Are you losing focus from watching me move so gracefully? I'll bet you have so many nasty thoughts running through your head right now. (Rips open her shirt a little, revealing her cleavage) You want me so bad, don't you?

Yang: (Tears streaming from her eyes, Thinking) That's it. I've lost him. There's no way he doesn't want her after that. It's how she tricked Dad into loving her. (Crying) But, he can't just leave me for her! She just wants to use him as a plaything. If he left me, I at least want to be sure he'll be safe from any harm, but she... It's all my fault. All because of that stupid argument, he's going to leave me all alone!

Jaune: Ugh! Just shut the fuck up already!

Yang: Huh? (Realizes Jaune's holding her)

Raven: Excuse me?!

Jaune: I'm sick of hearing you talk! You're fucking weird, the way you talk to me makes me feel like a baby, and the fact you're putting down your own daughter just to impress a stranger like me, (Glares at Raven, Grinds his teeth) it makes me so fucking furious, I can't stand it! How could you say such foul shit about your daughter?! (Takes a deep breath, Holds Yang close) I love your daughter. I only love your daughter. I mean, yeah, you're attractive, with your nice-smelling hair and your curves and your swordplay, but that doesn't matter. But I wouldn't even be fawning over you if I knew how horrible you really were! (Feels Yang hugging him, Sighs) I'm sorry, baby. I just... I just got so upset when you said I wasn't good enough for you.

Yang: (Sniffs) I wasn't talking about you not being good enough; I was talking about me not being good enough for you. I got so worried that you'd abandon me, I couldn't bear it. I'm sorry it came out wrong to you. I just think you're so amazing, okay? You always rise up against any challenge, even when you know the odds aren't in your favor. You fought bullies, Grimm, my dad, and even the White Fang! You have so much confidence, I can't imagine why you would think you're not good enough! (Sobs) I love you, Jaune! I feel like if you left me, I would literally die!

Jaune: (Shushes her, Pets her hair) I love you, too, and I know what you mean. I feel like... It's like our souls are connected, you know? (Chuckles, Tear rolls down his eye) I'm sorry I'm so corny, and for our fight earlier.

Yang: (Chuckles) It's okay. I like us being corny, and I love that you can be so honest with me.

Jaune: (Chuckles, Kisses the top of her head) I'm so lucky I have you.

Raven: (Holding herself, Panting and squirming) Oh, this feeling~.

Jaune: (Looks up) Huh? (Looks over, Sees Raven half-naked and steaming with a dangerous aura) Uh...

Raven: Oh, Tai hasn't made me feel like this in such a long time~.

Yang: (Gulps) Raven?

Raven: But you, Jaune, (Lewd and wide smile, Sultrily chuckles) you're a whole different breed~! (Points Omen at him, Drooling) You're a man who knows how to put a bitch like me in her place and shows love to his girl after some tramp disses her! (She looks down, Hiding her face) It might be the bare minimum, but... (Looks up, Hungry eyes) I just have to have you! Now pick up the sword and listen carefully, because if you lose this fight, I'm going to make you my new slave! (Chuckles) Who knows? Maybe in a few years, you'll make for a fine bandit.

Shay: Wait, we used to be something before being bandits?

Raven: You can't refuse this, handsome, otherwise I'll kill Yang and give you no choice.

Jaune: Shit. Yang, this doesn't look good.

Yang: Hey, now, that's not the Jaune Arc I love! (Hands him Crocea Mors, Kisses his cheek) Kick her ass for me, okay, baby?

Jaune: (Takes Crocea Mors, Smiles) You got it, baby!

Vernal: Listen up, everyone! Our queen is about to go all out! The odds of her leaving us alive grow slimmer by the second! Know that all of you have been like family to me!

Shay: Even me?

Vernal: Shut up, Shay.

Raven: By the way, handsome, I don't want this to be over too soon, so keep that sword of yours in it's longsword form to keep it interesting. Because this shit's finna get nutty!

Raven wastes no time attacking Jaune, forcing him to block. He's pushed back several feet before side-stepping away. Raven continues until a red portal opens in her path, and she disappears into it. Jaune loses sight of her and barely has enough time to duck as she flies in from behind to strike. He rolls away, but Raven charges again, striking wildly with swings and thrusts. Jaune's muscles ache as he's forced to block and parry. Raven runs towards him again, disappearing into another portal. He looks behind, but doesn't see her. Yang warns him of the strike from above, and he leaps away in time. He notices a golden necklace on the ground, recognizing it from one of the bandits. Unfortunately, Raven was relentless as she continued her assault, and Jaune couldn't afford to stop and think. He decided to go on the offensive this time, clashing with her. When she was pushed back, he charged forward, but ran into her portal, and right into Vernal. The bandit lieutenant jumped away as Jaune thrusted, and he apologized as he she did. He turned in time to catch Raven's blade, but she disappeared as she retreated, using her portal repeatedly to confuse him. Jaune dropped his sword and stepped forward to the golden necklace. He tossed it into the air, forcing Raven to dive to him with her blade extended. She cackled with mad glee as she forced him to fall backwards, only to reel in pain when he kicked her in the face and away from Omen. Raven sprawled and climbed to her knees, looking at Jaune from the wrong end of her weapon.

Raven: (Panting) Jaune... That was... amazing... I feel so... exhilarated... You sapped me of all my juices. Or, well, at least half of my aura, anyways. I know you won, but couldn't you please reconsider and join my family?

Jaune: I don't want you! Damn! (Throws Omen aside) I'm with your daughter because I love her! I love her hair! I love her smell! I love her curves!

Raven: W-What are you saying?!

Jaune: I'm saying I love big-tittied bitches! Mostly your daughter, but the others are cool, too, I guess!

Yang: (Snickers, Covers her mouth)

Jaune: Also, you just let "your family" almost die in our fight! Who the hell does that?!

Raven: (Scoffs) The family knows the tribe is nothing without their queen. If they were worthy, they would be willing to die for me. (Stands up, Shakes her head) Such a sentimental fool. No wonder you're together. (Picks up Omen, Walks away with her tribe) You can have him, Yang.

Yang: ...Thank you, Raven.

Jaune: Wait, that's it?

Raven: Yeah, I don't need any bleeding hearts in my tribe. But you have my blessing, whatever that might mean to you. (Thinking) Fuck, now I'm thinking about him again. I should go chat with him. It has been a few months since our last "reunion."

[olivyh]

TWST FAMILY HCS PT 3) Scarabia and Pomefiore

Scarabia:

Jamil:

-Mama Viper: She’s on the quieter side, similar to Jamil. She’s a very hardworking woman and incredibly loyal to whoever she gets close to, which extends to Kalim as well. Seeing the two boys grow up together, and considering how I think Kalim didn’t get the most attention growing up (with thirty siblings and counting, plus having his father working all the time) she felt sorry for him and took him in as her own as well. She sometimes feels Jamil’s pain at being stuck in the life of servitude, but is incredibly proud of him for sticking up for himself and doing what she never got to do, even if she scolded him after word got to the household. She can’t put much focus on either of her children, which deeply saddens her, but she looks forward to watching them grow up to be strong, intelligent, and independent. I think she’s a little shorter than Jamil, with the same long black hair that she braids down her back. She has dark brown eyes that almost look black.

-Papa Viper: He’s on the more reserved side as well, but not by choice. He’s very talkative when talking about his experiences, often going into rants where he has to remind himself to not overstep his boundaries. I think Papa Viper and Papa Al-Asim have a similar relationship to Kalim and Jamil pre-overblot, where it’s very one sided and there’s a lot of bitterness. Despite this, Papa Viper remains loyal to the Al-Asim family. Deep down he wishes he could spend more tike with his children and deeply regrets telling them to lessen themselves to make the Al-Asims higher than them yet again. And, like Mama Viper, he is incredibly proud of his son for being so intelligent and independent, sticking up for himself and trying to break the chains that kept their family held down foe generations. I think he stands at the same height as Jamil, with shorter cropped hair with grey streaks going across the sides.

-Little sister Viper: A spitfire who’s not afraid to speak her mind, often getting scolded by other servants and the rest of her family. Very close with Kalim’s younger sister who she has to watch over- they have movie nights and makeover nights as often as possible. She often scolds her older brother, telling him little things he needs to change (“haven’t you been wearing your hair like that since forever?”), which often gets them in little passive-aggressive arguments. She and Kalim’s younger sister aspire to be as magicam-popular as the Vil Schoenheit- they even have their friend from the land of Pyroxene to help them boost their account and make their pictures look better (Yes, they call and chat with Cater’s second oldest sister all the time)! I think she has long hair tied in a way similar to their mother’s, with Jamil’s dark grey eyes. I think she stands shorter than the rest of the family, at around 5’2.

Kalim:

-Papa Al-Asim: A cheery, joyful man much like his oldest son! He’s a little dense sometimes, but is actually a very smart man (it’s not easy to own a company after all!). He tries his best to bond with all of his children and wives, but often struggles to juggle everything at once (which leads to him being very teary eyed at every little interaction with any one of his children). Will also spoil his children and wives as often as he can! He likes to see all their different interests, and is overjoyed when he can watch some of them perform during dinners or hang up their paintings or drawings or, if he’s lucky and has the time, he can attend one of their sport games! I think he’d be a little taller than Kalim, with white hair similar to his, with dark brown eyes.

-Mama Al-Asim: A princess at heart. A very quiet and patient woman, who adores her children with every ounce of her being. I think Papa Al-Asim might have four-five wives? Bc these poor woman cannot be having six plus children in the span of seventeen years. I think she gets along well with the others, but would rather it be her and her children getting closer. I think she’s enamored with everything each one of them does, whether it be something as small as a craft they made or a little magic trick they learned, and will keep pictures of every little thing they do. She tries to include every one of them when she does something, whether it be reading aloud to them and the other children, or teaching them how to knit and sew, or helping them learn new dances and wearing new things. She teaches them to be kind to others, often retelling the story about the Thief and the Princess to point out how kind each of the protagonists were. She teaches them as much as possible, from how to help their Papa to how to fix your mistakes and catch them before they happen. She will listen to whatever problems they have, and will offer her shoulder to cry on for each and every one of them. She is also very affectionate to them, still offering cuddles and forehead kisses whenever they look upset (no matter how old they may get). I think she’d have very long brown hair that she tries to add as many intricate little designs to as possible, with Kalim’s bright red eyes. I think she’d be around 5’1-5’2?

-I AM NOT DOING ALL THIRTY YOUNGER SIBLINGS SO HERES A FEW HONORABLE MENTIONS: Twins who get into as much trouble as they possibly can, driving the servants insane. One of them often sneaks out of the palace and comes back after everyone spent hours searching for them with souvenirs. Nobody knows where they went or how they got there, and they won’t tell anyone. His little sisters often dressing up as princesses and performing whole musical numbers during dinner, with the dances down and everything. Hide and seek. With all thirty plus of his little siblings. It’s insanity for anyone wandering the palace. Their drawings are all over the palace. Animals. So. Many. Animals. They have anything from birds, to reptiles, to insects, heck, one of Kalim’s little sisters even has a domesticated tiger! All of them plan as many movie nights and pillow fort building days as often as they can- seeing each other not only as siblings but as close friends! Of course, when their oldest brother comes home from school, they all sit around his room as he tells them stories about things he’d seen and learned, as animated as possible. Of course, he tells them classic fairytales as well, acting them out and jumping around his room, trying to get as many reactions to them as possible. Of course, many of the quieter ones prefer to stick away from the action and near Jamil, who will quietly talk with them in the corner of the room.

Pomefiore:

Vil:

-Papa Schoapjfaojfpak: As already stated, a popular actor and stage director. With this comes the same publicity that Vil has to deal with, making him look nearly flawless and act as such when out in public. He keeps his son’s attitude when it comes to fans, keeping most interactions short and simple, putting on a show offstage nearly as much as he does onstage. Behind closed doors, however, he’s a very kind yet strict father, making sure that Vil takes proper care of himself and is happy at the same time. He struggled with the aspect of having to leave Vil alone for much of the time when he was a child since he had to work often. When these times were especially bad, he’d often bring Vil into the sets to help him get ready for filming or to watch his Papa from a little seat next to the directors. He would always chuckle and pat Vil’s hair whenever he told him something he could’ve done better after the filming process, glad that his son has an eye for these sorts of things. He’d even let him experiment with the expensive costumes and makeup, helping him fix his own small mistakes. He tries to make it to every show and movie that Vil does, often going undercover to ensure that fans don’t take his attention off his son. He has a box full of their own home movies that the two of them made, including action, comedy, even a few thrillers thrown in (of course, Vil was the strong hero who defeated the bad guy)(The bad guy being his poor father with fake blood smeared on his face). He watches them sometimes when he misses his son (and he cries about how far he’s come, not that he’d ever tell Vil). I think he’d be the same height as Vil, and a little muscular due to having to keep up appearances. He has Vil’s hair and eye color.

Rook:

-Mama Hunt: Okay back to my headcannon page about species, I saw something that said that Rook was half beastman. So, I like to think that Rook’s mother is the beastwoman in the relationship. She’s a strong, loving caracal beastwoman. She’s kind and often spoils her son as much as possible, coddling him whenever he’s around, no matter the age. He get’s his poetic nature from her, an artist, poet, author, whatever she could get her hands on! Despite this, she’s still a woman from the Savanah, so she gets very protective over her husband and son, and is a lot stronger than she looks! She would be the kind of woman who’d tell you the most vague, unsettling threats with a smile on her face, and she’s had some pretty close scrapes with people who thought that they could try to hurt her son because he was half human (and also, due to Rook’s nature, likely trespassing on their property). She tries to show her son the beauty in the world, complimenting him on every little thing he did and poetically pointing out everything beautiful around her during their walks (even if it wasn’t)(Mrs.Hunt please don’t show your son that roadkill)(please don’t compliment the roadkill)(let it rest in peace im begging you). She and her husband are incredibly proud of everything Rook does. I think she has short blonde hair that goes black at the ends, yellow eyes, and is only an inch shorter than Rook.

-Papa Hunt: Where do you think Rook got his hunting instinct from? Not from his beastwoman mother, surprisingly. The infamous Mr.Hunt was but a hunter who had wandered too far away from where his friends had decided to go camping in the Savana. He, like his son, was enamored with any non-human species, his curiosity leading him to a beastwoman quietly painting not too far from her home. With her enhanced hearing, she quickly whipped around and glared at him, shocking the man to the point of falling down. And from that point forward, he was in love. He’s incredibly supportive of his wife’s artistry, complimenting her at every moment about how perfect she did and how amazing she is as what she does. He’s a romantic, like his son, so you can expect many, many mushy moments between the two of them (que baby Rook making a face at the display). He wanted to teach his son as much as possible about the world, to make him as curious as possible. Of course, he wanted to bond with his son for as long as possible. How would they do that? Father-son camping trips, in which Papa Hunt would teach the boy how to shoot a bow (it took him a minute to realize that his son’s laser-point accuracy could be because his beastman instincts tell him how to get the kill as fast as possible, and he was the proudest Papa in the Savana when he went to tell his wife). He also often took him to larger towns, letting his boy get acquainted with his beastman culture so he didn’t feel too left out around others. He is the same height as Rook, but with shoulder-length black hair and bright green eyes.

Epel:

-Great-Meemaw Felmier: A very old and wise woman, shockingly stubborn and independent for her old age. She adores her great grandson and was the one who taught him how to carve apples in the first places. She’d tell him stories about when her father first bought the farm they lived on, and what things were like then, how they changed. Of course, she gets tired very quickly so these stories are often left with open endings, much to Epel’s dismay. She always knows what advice to give for any situation, and won’t be afraid to tell you the truth. She’s likely around her late nineties, and often carries around a walker that she smacks people’s ankles with. I think she’d have very, very long hair (“To preserve my youth”, she says) that she lets hang as much as possible.

-Meemaw & Peepaw Felmier: Two very sweet people. Both hailing from families of farmers who had lived in and around the village of harvest their whole lives, they grew up around each other and are practically inseparable. They care very much for their children and grandchildren, and often act as their grandchildren’s partners in crime whenever they get into trouble, patching them up when they get hurt and helping to clean the mess they might have made in the kitchen. would have shoulder-length light purple hair (almost white) that she ties back. They look like Mr. and Mrs. Claus that you see on those old Christmas animations that you can never remember the name of but see every year.

-Uncle & Aunt Felmier: A stern, but kind couple. Uncle Felmier is a gruff man, often being too blunt and too focused on work to take a break every now and again, and Aunt Felmier is strict with her child’s rules and schedule. Luckily, they have Epel’s parents to balance them out when they get too far. Uncle Felmier enjoys working out in the farm with his younger brother, and Aunt Felmier is Mrs.Felmier’s best friend, which made both the men very happy when Papa Felmier was getting ready to marry Mama Felmier. Whether it be cooking, baking, attending festivals in town, or even sitting near the fire and drinking tea/coffee, the four of them greatly enjoys each other’s company. Uncle Felmier is a taller man with light purple hair, with grey streaks going up the front, he’s more built due to working on the farm. Auntie Felmier is a stout woman, with light brown hair that’s often tied up in a low ponytail.

-Papa Felmier: A very kind and hardworking man, who lives for his family. He gets up at the earliest hours in the morning and goes to bed at the latest at night to keep the farm going and to help out their elderly neighbors. He’s a little strict with Epel, but that changed as Epel grew up and became less rowdy (not by a lot). He tries his best to understand his son and let him grow as his own person, hearing him out when he gets upset about others calling him feminine. He even tries to put a stop to his brother making comments about the boy, at least around him. He is a little scrawnier than his brother, but still fairly muscular due to constantly lifting things and operating machinery to keep things running. He has Epel’s purple hair and light green eyes.

-Mama Felmier: Another one where, if you hadn’t known she was a farmer, you’d think she was a lost princess. She’s a kind, generous, quiet woman who does her best to keep her chaotic household from falling apart. Similar to the Tweel’s father, she tries to protect Epel as much as possible, and him going so far away for school made her panic internally, as proud as she was of him. She does her best to calm her son down when he gets rowdy or frustrated at something, and often approaches him with hot cocoa or an apple tart to make him feel a little better. She solves everything with food, which mostly incorporates apples, and believes that by baking for him and by extension, his friends at school, she makes their days a little better, no matter how horrible they may be. She is welcoming to any of the boys from school who may have a hard time at home or who need a place to stay, and was happy to the point of tears when he told her that he made friends at school. Is another one who will proudly display pictures of their child, often having long conversations with their neighbors about how he is, what he’s doing in school, etc etc. She is incredibly beautiful (where else would he get that face?) and has long ginger hair with Epel’s blue eyes.

-Little cousin Felmier: Epel’s baby cousin is only around six or seven, and follows his older cousin as much as he can. He defends Epel as much as possible whenever people call him delicate and girly, and will go on long rants about all the cool things he’d seen him do over the years (“He jumped out o’ th’ tree! Without thinkin’!” “We were sleepin’ outside n’ he heard an animal outside o’ our tent n’ he scared it off!”). Is quick to help around the house, despite being stubborn and upset about not being strong enough to help his father and uncle work outside yet. He’s always quick to ask Epel about school, and has begged him on multiple occasions to let him go with him (“We already sleep in the same room! What’s the difference if it’s here or at your dorm?”). I think he’d have Epel’s hair color but with light green eyes.

Im just imagining Epel’s giant family living in the same farmhouse and it being this small, warm, friendly place out in the country with plaid red curtains and little apple accessories everywhere and quilts and a big fireplace they all talk by 🥺🥺

[plant-flwrs]

I love your writing! Can you do a reader x fred where the reader’s whole family (like siblings) is slytherin except her and she’s in gryffindor and you can do whatever with it thank you!

rivalries as old as time // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: omg i’ve never written mean!george this was kind of scary hehe. n e way, hope u like it! thanks for ur request!

summary: Fred and George are usually united on everything, but Fred’s crush on Draco Malfoy’s sister is definitely something they disagree on.

(5k)

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You had never liked red, and as you fidgeted with your red tie for the fifth time, you felt an elbow to your side.

“Stop,” Fred Weasley whispered from beside you, sending a scowl your way, “It’s distracting.”

“Distracting from what? You have no intention of taking notes,” you said, looking at both his and your blank parchments in front of you.

“Distracting from my daydreams,” he said easily, leaning forward on his desk to rest his forearms against the wood, “I need to focus on them, they’re just getting good.”

“What’re they about?” you asked, hoping to sound rude. Fred looked at you in the corner of his eye, and he was regrettably forced to admit that your signature Malfoy smirk was insanely attractive.

“Oh you know,” Fred said, copying your actions to lean back in his chair, “ the usual. Trolls and Gremlins.”

The both of you slouched in your chairs, arms crossed, ignoring the awfully boring lecture Professor Binns was giving.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed by Fred. Your gaze drifted across the room, trying to find something entertaining for your crystal gray eyes to focus on.

Fred, meanwhile, was internally slapping himself. Trolls and Gremlins? That was so stupid!

He watched your blonde hair fall from where it was loosely tucked into a headband, and you brought a mindless finger to put the hair back. He watched your simple movements, entranced by you.

You and Fred didn’t get along. You are a Malfoy, and he’s a Weasley. But still, somehow, you both always found yourselves thinking of the other.

History of Magic was his favorite class, because of you.

You and Draco had crossed paths on the way to lunch, and he walked briskly over to you, dismissing some of his Slytherin friends. You paid no mind to their scowls and figured they felt so angry because Gryffindor was playing Slytherin next week on the pitch.

“Has mum sent an owl to you this week?” Draco asked, craning his neck a little to look at you. His growth spurt hadn’t struck him yet.

“Oh!” you said, beginning to dig through your bag, “Sorry, forgot about it.”

You pulled a small parcel from your bag, handing it to your brother. The two of you were nearing the Great Hall, where you would have to split and go your separate ways.

“What is it?” you asked, feeling an obligation to be nosy in your little brother’s business.

“Some ink,” Draco said lazily, tucking the package into his own bag, “it’s my lucky ink.”

“Why? Is it enchanted?” you asked, and then lowered your voice, “Is that how you get such high marks?”

Draco smiled at your compliment and shook his head no.

“No, I get those because I study,” he said flatly, a dig at the fact that you excelled more on the Quidditch pitch than the academics.

You jokingly narrowed your eyes at him, and just before he walked to the Slytherin table, you reached out and ruffled his gelled hair. His joking stature quickly turned serious, and you broke into a jog to get to the Gryffindor table and away from Draco. You watched him attempt to smooth back his hair, chuckling as you slid down on the bench, a few seats away from Fred and George.

Fred was hunched over a poorly drawn drawing that George pointed to continuously while he talked.

“If we took that one corridor, there's that curtain that leads here,” George said, moving his finger to the right, “and then we can easily get back in time!”

You didn’t bother to ask, knowing George wouldn’t tell you. As much as you and Fred would get into little arguments, George had it out for you. Despite being his housemate, it was a known fact that you were the target of his pranks. Last year, he had snuck into the girl's Quidditch changing rooms and stole your clothes. You had to beg Fred from where he stood on the outside of the tent to make his brother give his clothes back, and when that didn’t work, you waved your wand and said “Accio clothes”. George had never run so fast up a hill, and he still couldn’t escape your wrath.

You pulled a sandwich from the tray in front of you.

“Malfoy,” Oliver Wood said, catching your attention.

“Yeah?” you said, taking a large bite of your sandwich.

“Did you look over that play I sent you?” Oliver asked, referring to the crumpled note he had tossed at the back of your head during Charms.

“Yeah,” you said, chewing and fishing in your bag for the note.

You pulled it out and saw Fred looking towards you. You looked at him before returning to Oliver. You unfolded the paper and Oliver hunched over it as George had done down the table.

Oliver’s hands were all over the simple drawing, his words getting lost in your boredom. You loved Quidditch, but god, could Oliver be boring.

“What are you two talking about?” both of your heads snapped up to see Fred forcing himself between the two first years that sat across you.

Oliver handed him the paper, pointing at all the meanings of the symbols.

“This,” he finally said, catching his breath, “is how we’re gonna beat Slytherin next week.”

Your weeknights were spent with Oliver, both of you ranting on about strategies while also trying to get done some homework. You occupied a wooden table that was usually used for chess, but the board was moved over to the coffee table where Ron and Harry played.

Fred watched, nearly pouting, from his spot on the couch. He watched the way your light eyes would brighten at the words Oliver said to you, and how you would blush every time he offered you a compliment on your playing.

“Ready for practice tonight?” Fred said, sliding up next to you as you waited outside of Binns’ classroom.

“Yeah,” you said absentmindedly, picking at your nails.

“George and I won’t take it easy on you,” Fred said, his veiled attempt at sounding threatening failing.

“Oh, Fred,” you said, faking a shake in your voice, “you don’t mean that.”

Fred rolled his eyes at your teasing, following after you as you walked to your shared desk.

Both of you came down the Gryffindor stairs at the same time, dressed in your practice jerseys and equipment in hand.

You glanced at him and caught his eyes looking you up and down. You chuckled to yourself, and his face flushed red.

You walked through the portrait hole with Oliver, and Fred watched you as he waited for George.

The two of them twisted and tossed their beater bats from hand to hand as they were perched on their brooms. You and Alicia faced off near the ground, hovering stoically. It was no competition, you were a better flyer than Alicia. She nearly had you matched in the power of her arm, but you still had the upper hand.

Fred bit his lip as you extended yourself to reach for the Quaffle. Your legs were the only thing keeping you on the broom, but you didn’t pay any mind to the unsteadiness. The only thing you thought of was the play Oliver had ingrained in your mind the past week. You repeated his critiques in your head and made sure to fix your grip on the Quaffle.

Alicia trailed after you, and you dove under Angelina to avoid her grasp. They were both trailing after you now. Alicia was nearly taken off her broom by a Bludger, and risking a glance upwards, you saw Fred’s triumphant smile. It was lucky that Fred was on your team for this practice because George had a nasty habit of failing to block Bludgers from hitting you.

Nearing near the goal post, you easily wound your arm back and sent the Quaffle right past Oliver. He slapped his gloved hands on his broom and sent you a proud smile.

The practice continued, and you weren’t hit with a Bludger the whole time, no matter how many George sent at you. Fred was always there to send them off, and send you a wink after he did it. You won the practice scrimmage, but Alicia put up a good fight.

“We have this,” Alicia said, beaming at you as she shed her heavy robes in the changing room.

“If we don’t I think Oliver’ll have an aneurism,” you joked, pulling on a loose t-shirt.

Angelina chuckled, and Alicia continued to beam.

“Really lucky Fred saved you from all those Bludgers,” Katie Bell teased from behind you.

“George has got it out for me,” you said nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders.

“Yeah, but, Fred sure kept you safe,” she continued to hint, but it went over your head.

“Well yeah, we can’t have an injury two days before the match,” you said, closing your locker and shuffling the combination.

Alicia rolled her eyes, and Angelina laughed.

“Yeah, that’s why,” Katie said, giving up.

You walked up the path to the castle and saw a clan of black robes walking down the path. You saw blond hair that matched yours peaking from one of them.

“Draco!” you called to your brother, breaking into a jog to reach him.

“Hey,” he said, breaking off from his Slytherin teammates.

“Are you guys ready for the match?” you asked excitedly.

Draco huffed out a defeated sigh, crossing his arms.

“No,” he admitted, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his housemates couldn’t hear him, “we bloody suck.”

You fought the cheeky smile that crept onto your face.

“Oh, that’s rotten, Draco,” you said, beginning to walk back down the hill with him, “I’m sure you’ll play your best.”

“I’ll try,” he said, beginning to shoo you off, “go do your homework.”

You rolled your eyes at your brother and waved him off, setting back up the castle.

The day of matches was always nerving, but it was even worse when it was against Slytherin. It felt like everyone in the school wanted you, needed you, to beat them.

You and Oliver sat shoulder to shoulder, both trying to get the other to eat something for breakfast. You both claimed to be too nervous, and then the other would say “that’s ridiculous, you have to eat!”.

Walking to the pitch, Harry Potter trailed behind all of you. You watched the twins stop to reach him, each wrapping a comforting and brotherly arm around his shoulders. You smiled to yourself, slipping into the changing room with the rest of the girls.

The crowd was roaring. It had never been this loud. Various chants sounded off, and you soon realized that someone in the Slytherin crowd learned a charm to louden their voice. Hateful words about Harry spouted from the green stands, and boos countered the Slytherin statements from the blue, yellow, and red bannered stands.

Taking the field, you hovered in front of Adrian Pucey as you had hovered in front of Alicia. Alicia was much nicer to look at, you thought, and she was a better player.

Pucey was barely moving before you soared off with the Quaffle tucked under your arm. You avoided the Slytherin chasers easily, twisting and ducking on your broom with the Quaffle on you like it was a third arm attached to your body. Cheers sounded off as you faked out Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey, making them dive into each other and nearly sending them off their brooms.

You looked back, seeing Alicia wide open behind you. You glanced forward, the Slytherin keeper braced for your shot. You slowed, allowing Alicia to come to your side. You made a seamless pass to her that the keeper hadn’t noticed, and while he looked at you, Alicia came from the left and scored. You met her to high five, your arms outstretched.

Fred dove to you, following a very determined Bludger. His bat was nearly touching it, nearly about to send it off its path towards you. He was just about to reach it when you dove. Fred and the Bludger soared past you, and the Bludger redirected itself. Doing a loop, and seeing that you were no longer there, it went for the next best thing. Alicia barely had time to brace herself before the Bludger knocked her shoulder out of its socket. The painful injury only caused a short interruption, but she had some choice words for Fred and George for failing to hit the Bludger sooner.

After that one incident, the game continued in the same fashion. You and Alicia flew circles around the lacking Slytherin Chasers, and Oliver blocked nearly everything they sent at him.

The cheers from the crowd stayed consistent for the entire match. There was never a silent moment from any house. A renowned gasp fell across the crowd, though, as Draco changed direction quickly. He turned the end of his broom straight up, and with an outstretched hand, Harry was breathing down Draco’s neck. You watched your brother, his blond hair flying off his face, his long arms reaching out into the sky. You didn’t feel bad for rooting for Draco, because even if he caught it, you were so ahead it wouldn’t have mattered.

Draco’s pale fingers eventually did wrap around the snitch, and without thinking, he let go of his broom in the haste of catching the little thing. He began to fall from the sky, and you watched as his legs and arms flailed around him. His broom fell faster than he did, and you flew to him. You were pulling your wand from your boot when someone had beat you to it. Draco hung suspended in mid-air, his body limp. He raised his head, and you saw his ghostly cheeks flushed pink. He looked around, patting his body to check if he was still alive. When he realized he was, he raised his hand into the sky, showing the golden snitch. The green section roared with laughter, but Lee Jordan’s voice halted them.

“Just a reminder! The Gryffindor team still wins!”

Cheers from every other section sounded off, and you felt a pang of guilt in your heart. You could be a Slytherin, you should be a Slytherin, and here you were apart of one of the houses that cheered for your brother's losses.

You flew to Draco, watching as he tucked the snitch into his robe pocket. You hovered, and he climbed onto the back of your broom. You looked around to see who had saved him, only to see Fred’s smug smile above you. George hovered next to his brother, scowling at Fred. You watched Fred tuck his wand back into his robes, giving you a shy wave. You smiled back at him, a silent thanks for the help.

You flew Draco to the ground, where he collected his broom.

“You were great, Dray,” you said, clapping him on the back, “really.”

“We lost,” he spat at you, cringing from your touch.

“Yeah but that’s not your fault.” you consoled him, watching his face soften, “You did your job, you caught the snitch.”

Draco nodded at you, offering you an appreciative smile. You wrapped an arm around his shoulder and squeezed briefly, then sending him off to his sulking Slytherin team captain.

Oliver was already running towards you, arms outstretched.

“Y/n!” he called, and you smiled widely at him.

“You were amazing, Wood,” you called to him, letting him envelop you in a hug.

He pulled you over to the huddle of your teammates, and they were all beaming.

“Wasn’t Potter this time, was it?” Lee Jordan called from his place in the spectator box, “Y/n Malfoy, the best Chaser Gryffindor’s got!”

You blushed wildly at Lee’s exaggerated praise, ducking your head as your teammates all cheered for you.

Fred and George came tumbling from the sky, landing ungracefully on the ground.

“Think this calls for a party?” Fred asked, and everyone’s cheers increased.

The common room was transformed into an even more red and gold haven. Maybe red was growing on you.

You were standing at the center of a huddle, everyone’s glasses raised. Oliver had just made a quite longwinded speech, to which you cut off with:

“Let’s drink to that!”

Cheers came from everyone around you, and you brought your firewhisky to your lips.

“I still don’t get why you did that,” George shouted at his brother, his words slightly slurred. George never could handle his liquor.

“It was her brother, mate!” Fred shouted back.

“He’s a Malfoy! And so is she! Freaks, the lot of them!” George yelled, and the statement trailed over the crowd and to your ears.

You turned to look at the twins, meeting George’s disgusted face.

You pushed through the crowd and put yourself between the brothers, bringing your face to George’s.

“What’s your problem?” you shouted, and he cringed away from the loud noise.

“You!” he shouted back, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“You’re a prick,” you said to him, sounding poisonous, “a drunk prick.”

George scoffed and brought a hand to your shoulder. He shoved you away, and you tumbled into Fred. Fred’s arms were around you before you could lunge at George as if he read your mind.

“Let me go!” you shouted to Fred, thrashing against him. George stood in front of you, taunting you. He waved his drink around, his drunken expression full of arrogance.

“I can’t!” Fred called out to you, then to George, “George, stop!”

George rolled his eyes and tossed back the rest of his drink. He stumbled off to somewhere else, leaving you in Fred’s grasp.

He felt your heavy breathing against his chest, your warm arms in his hands.

“You alright?” Fred spoke into your ear, his mouth moving against your hair.

“Yeah, I’m fine, you can let me go,” you said, wiggling from his grasp.

Fred hadn’t wanted to let you go, but he figured it would be odd if he kept you pulled against him.

“He didn’t mean that,” Fred started, but you waved him off.

“Yes he did,” you said. starting to walk away.

Fred reached out for you, pulling you back.

“I’m sorry,” Fred said, his eyes searching yours.

“Stop, Fred,” you said, pulling your arm from his hand again, “None of you Weasley’s have liked me since the day I was sorted into Gryffindor. It didn’t even matter who I was.”

Fred’s eyebrows furrowed at your statement, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything but sympathy as he looked at your hurt expression.

“That’s not true, Y/n,” he started, but you turned again. He didn’t stop you that time.

Your mood was ruined. You filled your cup with more firewhisky, but at the bottom of each glass, all you could see was George’s disgusted face.

You had never done anything to the Weasleys, but that never stopped the redheads, or their friends, from sending you glares any time they saw you. You felt torn, torn by the unnaturalness of you being in Gryffindor, being away from your brother. You were torn by the fact that you felt weren’t even wanted by Gryffindor. No matter what you did, it was never right.

You remembered watching Draco get sorted, his baby-faced wonder as he sat on the stool with his legs crossed at the ankles. You had hoped, you had even prayed, that Draco would be sorted into Gryffindor. When that house was called out, though, the table of green erupted, and you watched your brother be swept off by your rivaling house.

George would never understand this, he would never see you as anything but a Malfoy, a pure-blood supremacist. You weren’t what your family was, you didn’t care about blood status, but no one cared.

Your anger seethed, watching George having fun, dancing with Angelina. Your grip on your cup tightened, and you wanted more than anything to go up to him and throw what was left of your drink into his face. You started over to him.

Fred intercepted you, having been watching you intently the whole night.

“You don’t want to do this,” Fred said, trying to calm you down as he blocked your path to his brother, “wait ‘till morning, then you can scream at him all you want.”

You could only shake your head, trying to move pasted Fred. You didn’t want to do this in the morning, you wanted to do this now, while the warm anger moved through your blood as fast as the whiskey did.

Fred’s hands gripped your upper arms, holding you in place.

“Let me go, Fred,” you mumbled, teeth gritted.

“I can’t, Y/n,” he said, searching for your eyes like he was begging you to look at him.

“He can’t always get away with it,” you whispered, feeling your anger turn into sadness. You had refused to cry about George or anything he said in your first year, but it seemed that now was your breaking point.

“He won’t, I promise,” Fred whispered back, trying to sound reassuring. He found it hard, his heart hurting at the sight of you so upset.

“He always does!” you exclaimed, your voice breaking. Your eyes were still dry, but the pounding in your chest felt like a heart attack.

“Well, he won’t this time,” Fred replied, bringing his face to yours so you had no choice but to look at him, “I’ll make sure of it.”

You met his eyes, and he saw the hopeful glint in them. He offered you a kind smile, his lips stretched across his face. You nodded at him, relaxing in his grasp. You didn’t try to move from it, and you didn’t want to. You felt safe in Fred’s arms.

“Oi!” George called from behind Fred.

Fred turned, putting you behind his back and himself between you and George. You pushed and pulled, trying to get in front of him and to George, but he was too strong.

“Fred, when are you going to get over this?” George asked his brother, downing the last of his dark drink.

“Shut up, George,” Fred warned, trying to push you and him away from George.

“I’ve told you a million times, mate,” George started, “Malfoys and Weasleys don’t belong together.”

Fred was on top of George in seconds. He was wrestling him to the ground and putting him in a headlock.

You put a hand over your mouth, watching as they fought. You replayed George’s words, “Malfoys and Weasleys don’t belong together”. Was this simple brotherly teasing, or did Fred have feelings for you?

Katie and Alicia found you in the crowd, and you hadn’t even realized what you were doing as they pulled you off of Fred and George. You had grabbed Fred’s shoulders, trying to pull him off his brother, but they thrashed against your grip.

Alicia and Katie were guiding you up the girl's dormitory stairs, pushing you towards the bathroom as your face became green with nausea. Katie held your hair, rubbing your back as you emptied your breakfast and what looked to be an entire bottle of firewhisky.

You groaned, moving to rest your back on the wall in front of the toilet. Katie flushed the vomit, closed the lid, and sat in front of you.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her kind voice inviting you to tell her all about your insecurities and worries.

Alicia came in right at the part of you feeling guilty for not being Slytherin, and Angelina stumbled into the dorms at your conclusion of what George said about Weasleys and Malfoys.

The girls consoled you, assuring you that you had every right to be in Gryffindor and that George was just a prick.

“What’d you think he meant by that?” Katie said, testing your reaction, in reference to what George said.

“I dunno,” you grumbled, moving yourself to lay down on the ground. Alicia moved, grabbing your shoulder and making you stay upright.

“Could it mean Fred,” Alicia spoke like a kindergarten teacher, and your drunken self giggled as she spoke, “likes you?”

You gasped, your head falling back to hit the wall.

“No way,” you mumbled, and when Katie started giggling next to you, you did too.

When Fred finally made his way up the girl's stairs, bypassing the detouring charms, he heard loud and manic giggles coming from your dorm. He opened the door but found the beds empty. The door to the bathroom was open, and the sound came from there.

“Hello?” he said, rasping his knuckles on the door frame.

The four girls on the ground, all looked up at him with bright smiles, all saying at the same time: “Fred!”

Fred’s eyes went to yours immediately. He smiled as his name fell from your drunken lips, admiring the twinkle in your silver eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked, moving to crouch in front of you.

The other girls got the hint, and filed out of the bathroom, all mumbling something of good luck to you.

“Yeah,” you replied, still smiling.

Your eyes focused on his face, and you saw a nasty cut on his lip. It bled a little to the corner of his mouth and down his jaw, stopping just above his shirt collar.

Your smile dropped, and you brought a hand to his jaw, “Are you alright? You’re bleeding, Fred.”

He brought a hand to his lip, and when he pulled it away he saw blood. You pushed yourself to your feet, wobbling a little as you stood. You got a wad of toilet paper and wet it a little in the sink. You put your hands on Fred’s shoulders, telling him to be still.

He closed his eyes as you dragged the paper over his jaw and dabbed at his lip. Once you got the blood off, you got a dry piece of toilet paper and ran it back over his jaw again. He suppressed the groans he wanted to release, forcing his hands not to reach out and grab your waist. Once the trail of blood was gone, you used a finger to tilt his face up. You ran your fingers over where the blood had been, making sure you got it all. Fred’s mouth opened a little at the touch, and he sighed heavily. You let his face drop back to yours, and looked at him. His mouth still had some blood in the corner. You wet the pad of your thumb with your tongue and cupped Fred’s face. You brought your thumb to the corner of his mouth and swiped your finger across his lip. This time Fred wasn’t able to suppress the moan that came from his chest. Your hand still rested on his shoulder, and your hand still held his jaw.

“Did George do this?” you asked, fearful of his response.

“Must have,” Fred whispered back to you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, dropping your hands from Fred and turning your back to him, “I shouldn’t have gone over to him.”

“Hey,” Fred said, wrapping a hand on your waist and pulling you into him, “George deserved that. You should see the shiner I gave him.”

“I can’t let you fight your brother like that,” you whispered, putting a hand on his chest and feeling his beating heart, “you two don’t fight like that.”

“I don’t care. I’ll fight him every day until he gives you a chance,” Fred replied, bringing a hand from your waist to the back of your neck.

When he began to pull your face closer to his, you pulled back a little, still in his embrace.

“I can’t kiss you,” you said, a teasing smile on your face.

“Why not?” he pouted.

“I just threw up, it’s gross.”

Fred dug in his pocket for a second and pulled out a tin. It was one in the packaging of one of his products, but he assured you they had yet to be charmed to make people’s tongues swell.

“I don’t know,” you dragged, twisting the small mint in your fingers.

“Why would I prank you right now? You have no idea how much I want to kiss you,” he took the mint form your hand and put it in your mouth for you.

He was right, it was just a regular mint. The taste of vomit was gone, and after you chewed it, Fred barely wasted a second before he pulled you into him.

He kissed you hard, despite having a busted lip. When you ran your tongue over it, he winced, and you pulled back.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, bringing your hand up to it and touching his lip. His hand grabbed yours, and he placed gentle kisses to each of your fingertips. His hand moved to your palm, to your wrist, and up your arm. His mouth ran over your shoulder, which he pulled your shirt back from, and up your neck. His lips finally connected with yours again, and you let out a pleased moan.

Fred pushed you against the counter of the sink, and you wrapped your hands in his hair. The feeling of nausea hit you very quickly, and you pulled away from Fred. You doubled over, trying to will yourself from throwing up.

“Oh god,” you started, and Fred rushed to your side, “I’m gonna throw up again.”

“What? Was it the mint? Are you alright?” Fred protested as you pushed him on his back out of the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind him.

You threw open the toilet seat and emptied what was left in your stomach. Flushing, you closed the lid and sat on it. You pulled your wand from your waistband and unlocked the door. Fred came in hesitantly, and when he saw you were fine, he lifted you off the toilet by the hand.

“Come on,” he said, guiding you out of the dorm.

“I don’t wanna go back to the party,” you mumbled, pulling his arm closer to you as you held onto it.

“You’ve been up there for ages, the party’s long over,” Fred assured, pulling you down the stairs.

Cups littered the ground, and abandoned streamers hung from the ceiling. A banner Dean Thomas had made hung lopsided on one side of the room.

Fred pulled you to the couch, bringing a blanket over you.

“Do you want anything?” he asked, and you laughed at his nurturing actions.

You were about to say no, but the rumbling of your stomach convinced you otherwise. You had emptied everything you had eaten, and you were hungry.

Fred snuck to the kitchens easily, making the same trek he made nearly every other night. He brought you back some sandwiches, but when he slipped through the portrait hole, he found you asleep on the couch.

Your breathing was even, and your mouth hung open a little. You curled into the couch, tucking your legs up to your chest.

He put the sandwiches on the table next to you and moved your body to the left. He curled up next to you, pulling the blanket over the both of you. He spooned you, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and your hand found his under the blanket.

For the first time, you felt at home in the Gryffindor common room.

[novawrights]

When Home Finds You

Plot- Reader remembers a darker time in her life before coming to Lady Dimitrescu's castle, Lady Dimitrescu shows her the home she's been searching for.

TRIGGER WARNING FOR PAST SELF HARM/DEPRESSION.

I sat in the library looking at the calendar on the wall. You would think a timeless vampire wouldn't need one but from what her daughters said, it was a recent thing when you had arrived a few months ago because they hadn't seen one before. So you took advantage of keeping track of each important date. Birthdays, special things they celebrated or treasured, even your birthday, all written in with flowing cursive writing. But one specific day was just a dot. They all shrugged when they saw it thinking it meant nothing but to you, it meant everything. My thumb subconsciously stroked my upper left thigh where thin scars crisscrossed across the fair skin. Most of my life I have felt alone, an apartment in the States that only held the essentials like clothes; basically a place to eat and sleep while I went to my job as a waitress and came home with no one to tell my day to, gossip with or have girls or friends nights. Early on I drifted apart from friends and the moment my so called accepting  family figured out I was were more into women they swiftly and cruelly disowned me. That's when I became best friends with a silver razor blade. Four years of cutting any piece of skin that could be hidden, becoming an expert in covering and tending to wounds, but three years ago, I forced myself to stop. I was then pulled from my thoughts when the big, oak doors opened and revealed Lady Dimitrescu. Or as I somehow got away with calling her, Alcina. Neither of you knew how it started or why she let's it be when the first moment a maid says it, her golden eyes flash with the fury of lightening in a thunderstorm.

"What are you doing in here all by your lonesome?" She asked, voice laced with concern that her eyes mirrored. I shrugged not taking my eyes off the calendar with today's date being the anniversary when you stopped cutting.

"Thinking about how I got here." I murmured. It wasn't a lie. Had I been left to my thoughts any longer I would have eventually made it to the day I showed up on her doorstep soaking wet and damn near hypothermic. She hummed as she sat in the chair next to me and placed a tray with two tea cups on it. Probably the one drink I had ever seen her drink without any blood in it.

"A strange day indeed. My daughter's usually devour any intruders immediately but for some reason they were definitely part of the argument to keep you alive." Her voice smooth with agreement with a hint of a smile and I chuckled in response.

"Oh yeah?" I teased as I looked over in her direction. While she was this tall, incredible and powerful woman, the soft spot she only had for her daughters, now extended to me. She met my gaze, golden irises meeting my steel gray with the softness only so few saw.

"I'm not one to believe in fate. I've lived far too long to really give it credit should anything good, or bad, come my way. But you took that belief and stomped all over it." She sighed as she turned her gaze into the fire I had long forgotten I lit. "Now I know I promised to give you privacy with your thoughts, but something is bothering you enough I can feel the storm cloud from my chambers across the castle." I sighed knowing she wasn't going to let this go. It was weird she had offered me who ended up agreeing to be a maid, privacy. Especially so soon.

"Several years ago things kind of fell apart. Family disowned me and friends drifted apart so I was literally coming home to an empty apartment every day after work." I started as I took the teacup from her hand and took a sip, letting the apple cinnamon flavor warm me. I could feel her eyes fall on me as she mirrored my action with her own tea. "When you get lonely, you don't always have the best coping mechanisms. Mine, was self destructive. Easy to conceal and no one would know since I never wore shorts or went out to the beach or wore dresses when I went to a club." I snorted before taking another sip. "Extremely glad I hadn't known you or the girls then." I added as a whisper as I turned my gaze to her. Her eyes darted across my face as if she was trying find the answer without me saying it. It was only until her eyes widened a moment later that I knew she figured it out. "You would have eaten me alive." She coughed. Not the best time to throw a suggestive joke like that but the line we danced across between attraction and a degree of softness reserved for lovers, was always front and center of my mind.

"We would have." She agreed softly. I looked at the calendar and gestured with my chin.

"That dot next to today's date, is the day I forced myself not to cut myself anymore. The day I threw out my razor blades."

"How long?"

"Three years self harm free." She didn't say anything and I heard the rustle of her white dress as she moved. I felt a twinge of fear squeeze my heart. Would she kick me out? Mock me? Strip me of my clothes and humiliate me that I wasn't strong enough? But to my surprise, a black glove and white sleeve entered my peripheral vision. I looked up and blinked away the tears that I hadn't realize were popping up.

"Come, my dear." She whispered. I wiped my eyes and took her hand as she led me from the library. It didn't take me long to realize she was leading me to her chambers.

"Al..." I murmured. She sent me a small smile as she opened the doors to her room, before leading me to the room where her bath was held. It always reminded me of a in ground pool for how big it was but also since it was indeed, in the ground surrounded by black tile.

"Get in." She gestured. I looked and saw it was already filled, the room smelled of lavender and the water still warm by the steam rising from it. I was thankful she turned away so I could have some modesty left since this was a boundary we hadn't come close to breaching. I stepped into the water and nearly moaned at the warm feel of it on my skin. When I got completely in I sat on the little ledge as she walked towards it.

"Tonight is about you. Because not only am I glad you had some impulse to travel, and travel here of all places and your car to break down in the middle of a storm, I'm also glad you've gotten over whatever life has thrown you. Even if there were a couple roadblocks in the way." I nearly teared up as she knelt on the tile and grabbed a purple bottle. She tapped my head as a non verbal cue to wet my hair, which I complied with, before resurfacing where my head my her hands with shampoo already lathered and ready to be coaxed into my brown hair. My eyes fluttered shut and a moan escaped me as I let myself relax and surrender to her fingers. Even when I felt like it was enough, she kept going.

"Times like this I wish I had my music. Even if you guy don't have electronics, most of my bands do vinyls still so a turntable would work." I sighed.

"I'll see what I can do, my sweet." The pet names were becoming more frequent these days, not that I was complaining. Another tap a few moments later for me to rinse out my hair of the sweet smelling shampoo and I couldn't help but enjoy the domestic intimacy between us. After rinsing my hair and feeling more relaxed than I had that day, I felt like my head was a little clearer and the storm cloud had gone away. She reached around and stroked my cheek.

"Dry off and meet me in my room." She whispered. I blinked as she practically glided out of the room before standing. I took one of the big fluffy towels she used and towel dried my hair as much as I could, and dried my body off. I noticed a pair of my old running shorts and a tank top waiting for me to change into. I ignored the blush creeping up my neck seeing a pair of underwear laying with it.

After changing I walked out of the room to see her in front of her fireplace with a silver goblet with her blood laced wine with another with plain red wine that I liked. I took a seat on the sinfully comfortable, crimson red couch next to her.

"I've felt this draw to you since you arrived. It's why the tasks I gave you kept you closer to me and report to me instead of anyone else. It's why I've done so much more for you as a maid compared to everyone else that has walked through these halls." She started. "If my instincts are correct, you feel the same or follow the same trail of thouught." Lady Alcina, the one who seems impossible to fluster or look unsure, cast this vulnerable air around her; and it surprised me. I swallowed knowing there was no way out of this conversation.

"I-I-I do." I stammered. I looked up at her and met teary eyes filled with love, adoration, compassion and genuine happiness.

"Fate does seem to come into play sometimes." She murmured before she leaned in where her wine red lips met mine. I'm not one to use cheesy movie clichés, but this kiss felt like I was home and complete in a way I thought was just a cruel joke for me. I felt her hand softly touch my thigh where the spandex had ridden up and a few scars where revealed. Pale lines that were almost invisible gleamed in the fire light. When she pulled away from the gentle kiss, her eyes flickered toward them, almost as if she knew my panicked trail of thought was going.

"You are so beautiful, my love. No scar, bruise, wound or anything will ever make me think otherwise." She assured me as her thumb caressed them much like mine had done just a while ago.

"But most of all," she continued, "You're home.

With me and my daughters. " I hadn't realized how much her words would mean to me until I felt tears falling in rapid succession that she brushed them away before pulling me towards her chest. There was one thing I had been hoping to find and I found it in the arms of Lady Alcina.

[linkspooky]

We’re the Same, You and I.

It’s a classic villain line, but it’s also true. Heroes and villains aren’t born in My Hero Academia, they’re made. Despite what hero society a lot of what propels people towards hero or villainry is just circumstances. There’s no better demonstration of this then Midoriya, and Shigaraki who have the exact origin point but because of circumstances were pushed in complete opposite directions. People are not good or evil. People are mainly reacting to circumstances and struggling to get through them. 

Deku and Shigaraki can be so similiar on the inside, and so different on the outside because what they’ve experienced is different. That’s important, because the world is not fair. Rather than blaming people for what they’ve endured, and struggled against in an unfair world, or trying to fix the circumstances of the world heroes instead villaiize victims of circumstance.

1. Good Victim / Bad Victim

Shigaraki and Deku is the same. There’s a nature vs. nurture argument in My Hero Academia, where quirk society suggests that people born with more violent, destructive quirks are therefore by nature more prone to destruction in violence. In every single case however we see this is not the case. Tenko destroyed his family by accident, Toga was pushed by familial abuse until she suffered a psychological break, the destructive potential of Twice’s quirk only came about because he was poor and homeless. He was just a delivery guy before that point. 

Gran Torino suggests the idea that there’s no way Shigaraki can be saved or reformed, as if Shigaraki decided to become a villain on his own. Despite knowing how manipulative a person AFO is. 

There is a double standard in regards to victims known as Good Victim, Bad Victim. It’s the idea that instead of the idea that all humans react badly when placed in stressful situations, there are good ways to react to abuse, and bad ones. It fits with the double standard of hero soecity, people who are meek, quiet, victims like Eri are saved, while little Tenko who was ragged, ugly, and violently lashed out against his father in self defense nobody even lifts a finger to save. 

It goes beyond that though, what Gran Torino is suggesting that if Shigaraki Tomura were a good person, he would have somehow held onto that goodness despite being a manipulated and abused by a crimminal mastermind for fifteen years. That if Shigaraki were a good person, he just somehow magically would not react to trauma, or abuse, and would magically break free from AFO’s control with magic and sunshine. 

It’s an idea that ultimately blames victims for the abuse they are put under. It suggests that somehow Shigaraki deserved the abuse that he was put through, because he was bad all along from the start. 

A morality trope about the arbitrary distinctions writers make between certain sorts of victims. If a character in fiction has a problem or ailment or social situation, and the creators intend him to be sympathetic, the character will have acquired the problem in the most socially acceptable way. If the character isn't sympathetic, then he will have contracted the illness through "your own damn fault".

By suggesting that Shigaraki was born bad and circumstance has nothing to do it, it puts all the fault for Shigaraki’s badness on Shigaraki himself. Therefore, Gran Torino remains morally pure. Nothing about the world around them needs to be corrected. Nothing about Gran Torino needs to be corrected. It is always the victim’s fault for acting the way they do, and not the cirumcstances that drove them to act that way. 

Yes, victims are still responsible for their reactions. Yes, being a victim doesn’t mean you get to lash out and not be responsible for the people you hurt. However, people can be both villains and victims at the same time. Nobody deserves to have gone through what Shigaraki went through. By invalidating his victimhood and suggesting Shigaraki only became this way through his OWN DAMN FAULT, all it means is more victims will be ignored. Good victim bad victim is bad because it moralizes victimhoods around arbitrary lines. Usually around what’s a “socially acceptable” reaction to victimhood. (Whatever that means). 

Tenko was just a normal kid. Not only that, most normal people would react that with if exposed to Tenko’s cirucmstances. Most people aren’t extraordinarily good or extraordinarily bad with a few outliars, most people are reacting to circumstances. Almost any normal person would be that way if they were exposed to Tenko’s circumstances and we know this because, the league is made out of people who are just like Tenko, and who all started out as normal kids. However, circumstances can change, and people can change. Rather than trying for that result, Hero Society focuses on punishing it’s worst victims. 

“The point is: People improve when they get external love and support. How can we hold it against them when they don’t?”

The league shows improvement when they are exposed to trust, and compassion with one another. 

By choosing between good and bad people to save, the people who are suffering the worst will never get the help they need. As Shigaraki’s speech affirmed this later, Heroes aren’t for protecting the worst victims who need the most saving, they sheperd the majority and exclude the minority. 

This even extends to what Dabi asks Tokoyami. Who is it that is most in need of saving? 

The hero kids this entire arc have moved to protect the pro heroes. However, not only are the pro heroes guilty of bringing the kids into a warzone without permission in the first place and putting them in danger. Pro Heroes are also, at fault for most of society’s ills because they contribute to the problems of society that villains are blamed for. Parental abuse, Homelessness, Quirk Discrimmination, Shigaraki’s entire life, all of the villains are the victims of the worst abuse and rather than rehabilitate them the heroes have been violently beating them down all this time. The heroes have blood on their hands because they’ve been beating down victims and punishing them all this time and making things worse, but they never have to bear any responsibility for that because all blame falls on victims. 

2. Deku is Given Everything

One of the most important parts of Shigaraki’s foiling with Deku is that everything that Shimura Tenko should have had, Deku was given instead. Gran Torino victim blames Shigaraki for trampling over Shimura Nana’s memory. 

However, it’s Gran Torino who made the choice to ignore Nana’s final wishes. Nana’s wish was for Kotaro to live a happy life apart from her, and unaffected by both her decisions, and whatever AFO was planning to do to her.

However, Shigaraki is continually punished over and over again because he just happened to be born as Shimura Tenko, Shimura Nana’s grandson. It was Gran Torino’s responsibility to make sure that Kotaro, and her family was protected from AFO but he failed that. When he still had a chance to help Nana’s last remaining family member, he neglected that instead. The one trampling all over Nana’s legacy is Gran Torino, because he refuses to honor her wish to protect her last living family member. Gran Torino blames Shigaraki, because he can’t face the fact that he himself made the wrong choice. 

Shigaraki started with the exact same origin point as Deku. However, Deku was helped by All Might. The things that Shigaraki should have received Deku was given instead. And I’m not even talking about super powers. I’m talking about help on the most basic level. 

All Might and Gran Torino knew about Kotaro, and knew that he might be targeted. Rather than checking up on him, they ignored him for years. Even after learning about Shigaraki’s circumstances, they still chose to ignore rather than even make the attempt to do something about it. 

Shigaraki’s arc is one of losing things over and over again, whereas Deku’s arc is being given things. Deku is saved by All Might finding him that day and telling him he could become a hero. Shigaraki just needed one person to save him, but All Might didn’t show up that day because he was turning a blind eye to his responsibilities. 

Deku is given the help ne needs, when he needs it. Whereas, Shigaraki is never helped. Deku is given two successive mentors due to his connections with All Might, Eraserhead and Gran Torino. He didn’t even earn Gran Torino because he didn’t get far enough or make a good enough impression in the sports festival. Deku’s mentors all make an effort to stay alive and stay with him. (Sir Nighteye was Mirio’s mentor he doesn’t count). Shigaraki loses mentor after mentor. 

Shigaraki loses both All For One and Kurogiri, and had to find a way to survive without both of them. AFO deliberately abandoned Shigaraki to retraumatize him and make his hatred towards the heroes worst. All Might makes a promise to stay with Deku, and stay alive, because he knows emotionally Deku needs him. 

The things I’m talking about Deku is given are support, stability and a consistent environment. These are things Shigaraki has never had his entire life. All Shigaraki has is violence he’s endured countless times over and over. Deku is given six quirks that he unlocks by having a dream about them. In order to start stacking multiple quirks, Shigaraki has to train in the mountain for a month without sleep in order to prove himself to AFO’s remnants who instead of just giving him a chance constantly force him to prove himself, but he also had to endure months of horribly painful surgery. Retraumatizing himself yet another time, because Shigaraki has been a victim of lifelong experimentation under Ujiko. He was taken in to become an experiment. It’s not really something he can consent to if he was adopted when he was five years old, and then groomed for fifteen years with the expectation that he would submit himself into this surgery in order to become AFO’s proper heir. 

The remnants of the OFA quirk try to guide Deku and lend him his strength. The remnants of the AFO quirk only try to control Shigaraki. 

Deku is a good boy yes, but is it because he’s inherently a good person or is it because he hasn’t faced what Shigaraki has? Shigaraki is forced again and again to confront the ugliest parts of society, quirk discrimmination, abuse, whereas Deku gets to remain wholly oblivious of them. It’s not even that Deku thinks that Shigaraki is too much of an extremist in trying to correct society, Deku doesn’t even think there’s a problem with the society that created Shigaraki in the first place. 

Deku forgives heroes, but not the biggest victims of heroes. He is moving to protect people like Gran Torino, and Endeavor who are both responsible for the creation of Shigaraki. Gran Torino through neglect. Endeavor because he is an abuser just like Kotaro was, and he also, created Dabi who is so much more like Shigaraki. Who is to say that Deku would not have turned out just like Shigaraki if exposed to similiar circumstances? Look at his reaction in the latest chapter.

Dkeu’s reaction, his feral faces, his frothing at the mouth violence all resembles Shigaraki. It’s almost like those who are exposed to violence are pushed to become more violent. Now circcumstances are reversed and Deku sees somebody’s body falling apart, like how his used to when he used the OFA quirk. 

Deku’s response is yeah, it’s time to beat the shit out of this guy. Deku’s response to violence is only to become more violent. Not only is he not even trying to overcome the cycle, he’s not even aware the cycle exists. So, then. So then. If Deku can become violent enduring the same violent circumstances that Shigaraki once did. If Deku can become spiteful, hateful, even vengeful. 

Then, what exactly is the difference between Shigaraki and Deku?  The only difference is what they’ve been through. Shigaraki has been abused more, so he’s crazier that’s all. Who they are inside is the same after all this time. The only difference between them really is that Shigaraki is punching up, while Deku punches down from a position of privilege. 

[by-nina]

A Cordial Invitation

AO3 | FFN Royai Week 2021 | Day 4 – Communiqué Rating: K+ (light drinking) Genre: Comedy/Fluff Word Count: 2,840

A/N: This fic takes place when Roy and Hughes are both still stationed in East City, before Hughes is transferred to Central—or in an AU where that happens, if that wasn't the case in canon. Brain empty, no thoughts but Royai. Screw canon. What's important is that Hughes is here. 😂

There is the briefest pause as Hughes leaps back, startled by the outburst, then he laughs again upon seeing the look on Roy's face. Roy can only shake his head in horror—what the hell does the man find so funny? Well, he might have laughed at this little comedy of errors himself if the situation weren't so ridiculously flustering for him. Instead, he is left to imagine it in sheer panic. R. Mustang. Riza Mustang.

His face is burning red.

———

MAES HUGHES, son of Thomas and Evangeline Hughes,

and

GRACIA EVANS, daughter of Rupert and Georgina Evans,

are delighted to announce their blessed and loving union come Saturday, the 25th of June 1910. The ceremony shall take place at Charlotte Hill, attended by their immediate family and beloved friends. Comprising their entourage are Mr. A. Armstrong, Mr. and Mrs. H. Elliott, Miss S. Garber, Mr. and Mrs. C. Marshall, and Mr. and Mrs. R. Mustang.

———

Five different people have congratulated Roy—two of them expressing mild surprise at his previously unknown marriage—by the time he comes across the root of his very confusing Friday morning. He reads the announcement in the paper thrice, flipping the page back and forth as if doing so might correct the error. When it doesn't, he picks up the receiver of his office phone, then replaces it and instead decides to see the man himself.

He passes by Breda and Havoc on the way out, but he isn't quite sure if they’re watching him because they know what's going on, or if they're just as puzzled as he is.

Two floors down, Roy raps away at the door of the Intelligence Division office. "Hughes," he calls out. "Hughes, I need to talk to you about—"

He cuts himself off, rubbing his temple as he realizes the pointlessness of his visit. It's at this moment too that Maes Hughes opens the door with that old, damning grin, the one Roy has known from Hughes' courtship with Gracia and all through their engagement. It's the grin that precedes the talk, as Hughes has annoyingly come to call it. Roy is ready with any of several retorts, such as—

"I don't have time for this, Hughes," or;

"Go bother someone else," or;

"Stop telling me to get married, I'm not looking for a girlfriend, leave me alone—"

But to Roy’s surprise, he doesn't find reason to say any of these today.

"What brings you here, old pal?" Hughes chirps in a tone that hardly suggests he has Roy's romantic prospects on his mind at the moment. Of course he doesn't—his wedding is just around the corner, and it's not like he's marrying Roy.

Roy opens his mouth, closes it, and sighs as he enters the office. He heads straight to Hughes' desk, where he drops his copy of the East City Times, folded open to show the incriminating page.

"Oh, you've seen the announcement!" Hughes is beaming. "I would've taken out an ad every single day after the proposal, but here we are! Can you believe I'm getting married tomorrow?"

"Thanks to your constant reminders over the past three months, yes, Hughes, I can," Roy says dryly. "But how come your announcement is printed like that?"

It's only then that Hughes realizes that an error, not excitement, brought his best man to his office. Roy manages to remain patient as Hughes leans over the paper, a finger trailing the announcement word for word until he reaches the end. Hughes then grabs the paper right up to his eyes and blinks incredulously, and his expression quickly changes. It’s somewhere between incredulity, hilarity, and exasperation—as much as a cheery man like Hughes is capable of, anyway. Hughes breaks into laughter and shakes his head.

"It's not funny, Hughes,” Roy snaps, but not quite. He isn’t so upset as to be eager to start an argument. “I've spent the entire morning wondering what the hell people were congratulating me for!"

"Oh my goodness, Roy, I am so sorry that this happened. I truly am." Hughes rubs at the side of his head, tutting in good-natured disbelief. "I can’t believe it, and on the day before my wedding, too! Ah, but I think I know what happened."

"Mm-hmm?"

"I went to the newspaper office yesterday over lunch, right? It was a last-minute thing because my beautiful bride-to-be doesn't really want too much of a fuss over our wedding. So, at their office, I fill out a form—"

"Mm-hmm."

"—and these announcements are usually short, so there wasn't much space on the form. I write down the date, the location, and then I start to run out of space towards the end as I'm listing the guests."

 "Mm-hmmm."

"So, the names are squeezed into the little space I've got left, there's the Marshalls, the Elliotts... and I suppose they assumed that you were a couple with Lieutenant Hawkeye."

"WHAT?"

There is the briefest pause as Hughes leaps back, startled by the outburst, then he laughs again upon seeing the look on Roy's face. Roy can only shake his head in horror—what the hell does the man find so funny? Well, he might have laughed at this little comedy of errors himself if the situation weren't so ridiculously flustering for him. Instead, he is left to imagine it in sheer panic. R. Mustang. Riza Mustang.

His face is burning red.

"No, no, no," Roy sputters, "this—this is serious, Hughes! Hawkeye is my adjutant, and if anyone from the top brass hears this and thinks—"

"Okay, slow down, Roy. Deep breath," Hughes says, gripping Roy's shoulders. "Let's be real. They're not actually gonna think that you would just carelessly break military laws. Ambitious youngster rising up the ranks after becoming the Hero of Ishval, who would suspect you? You know what else, they also think you're some kind of heartbreaker going on dates all over East City, up to Central—and her name isn't actually on the paper next to yours, is it?"

"But what—but—so why was it written like that anyway?"

"You’re right. Lieutenant Hawkeye is an important guest. I owe her an apology.” Hughes pauses in thought. “But while we’re on the topic, maybe you two should go together, considering how much she’s actually helped with your best man duties. You know what I mean? It shouldn’t be a big deal. Take her along as a companion, save yourselves the trouble of finding dates—don't play cool, I know you haven't invited anyone—it'll be more convenient for the two of you!"

Roy runs a hand over his face, now nearly out of things to argue about short of something more personal, something more selfish, more... honest. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hughes," he sighs sharply, interrupting his own thoughts. "All right, the announcement—it’s not your fault, we can let that go. And I’ll extend your apology to Lieutenant Hawkeye—”

“And take her as your date?”

“No, because she’s already invited anyway, so there's no reason for me to do that—and if I do, then I'd have to explain to people that I'm not actually married, and she—"

"Come on, it'll be no trouble. No one’s gonna think much of it!”

"I’m thinking much of it! It’s just not a good look.” Roy begins his way back to his own office, stopping at the door just to finish saying, “And I’m not dragging Lieutenant Hawkeye into your crazy ideas!”

———

“Lieutenant Hawkeye, would you like to go to Hughes’ wedding together?”

There is a brief pause when, all at once, Roy bristles with panic for the impulsive utterance, and mild surprise breaks through Lieutenant Hawkeye’s typically impassive face, and Lieutenant Hawkeye regains her composure as Roy watches and wonders what she actually thinks of the invitation, hoping that it’s welcome.

“I don’t think I could, Sir,” she says, deadpan, “Mrs. Mustang would be devastated.”

“What the—Hawkeye, you know I don’t have a wife—”

“Damn it!”

Breda bursts into laughter behind them, drowning out Havoc’s frustrated groan as the latter reaches into the pocket of his trousers, then drops a few coins onto the table where they have been working. Roy scowls at them, partly perplexed and partly exasperated by having to deal with the ridicule twice over. When Breda recovers somewhat, he explains, “We had a bet. Havoc was so sure you really were secretly married.”

“I was counting on it, okay?” Havoc grumbles. “I haven’t had a proper girlfriend since I started working with Mustang, no one will even look twice at me—”

“There you go,” the Lieutenant says as Havoc and Breda banter on. She continues sorting the reports on Roy’s desk into dated envelopes, having been momentarily distracted by his surprise invitation. “Any of Havoc’s girlfriends would be happy to be your date to the wedding.”

“Well, I just thought—I mean, Hughes suggested that maybe it would be more convenient for you and me—for the two of us to attend together.” Roy clears his throat when he realizes that his voice is quivering slightly. What is he so nervous about? He affects a smile to regain a casual confidence. “As colleagues, of course. Friendly companions in the entourage. That’s how all of this happened, there was a mistake with our names when they printed Hughes’ wedding announcement.”

The Lieutenant remains quiet, focused on her work. A moment later, Roy asks over the sudden, quiet thumping in his chest, “Are you… already bringing someone with you?

“No,” she promptly replies, eyes remaining on the reports before her. “I was just wondering what brought this on. You don’t owe me a favor for helping out with your preparations.”

The nervous thumping subsides, only to be quickly replaced by dull dismay. Never mind the idea of being each other’s date to a special occasion, or the imaginary scenario of being a couple. He and Riza—he and the Lieutenant have been working together for over a year now. He would like to think that in that time, they would have broken down enough walls between them for her not to think that everything they do or say to each other can only be strictly pragmatic. Roy certainly sees her in a warm, friendly light, not unlike the way he did as a boy. Surely she could at least not hold him at arm’s length after a year.

Roy finds it easy to be honest when he says, “It’s not that at all. And it’s not just because of what Hughes said.” A careful pause. “I think I genuinely would enjoy your company.”

He watches Riza carefully. No expectations, he reminds himself—and then he childishly proceeds to imagine all the ways that she could react to the whole situation. Roy lingers a little too long on the scenario where she might have imagined him with some mysterious Mrs. Mustang, then felt the relief of disproven jealousy when he explained what actually happened. No—it’s far too complicated an expectation for the time being.

She looks up at last.

“All right then, Sir.”

———

The Hugheses’ wedding is the happiest, most beautiful thing that Roy remembers witnessing in a long time. The ceremony proper and the reception beginning at sunset both take place in a pavilion overlooking a lake, awash in shades of gold from the table draperies to the twinkling lights and the flowers swaying in the breeze. There isn’t anyone in his opinion who deserves a day like this more than his best friend, which is why when Roy prepares to give his best man's toast that evening, he finds himself easily turning sentimental. He drains his glass of wine, then pours himself another just before beginning his speech.

Towards the end of the toast, he says, “Gracia, I have no words for how grateful I am that Maes met you, and that you’ve loved him through some of the most difficult times of his life. You showed him that it’s possible to be truly happy even when it might appear to be difficult or impossible.”

He draws a quick, sharp breath as emotion wells up in him. Laughing to conceal it, he quickly adds, “I’m sure he tells you that enough, of course, but I’m saying this now because you’ve also made the rest of us believe it. We all see it in him. And the two of you give us hope that it can happen for anyone, with anyone who can break down our walls.” Roy raises his glass towards the newlywed couple. “Maes, Gracia, may you be a home for each other for the rest of your lives.”

The modest crowd erupts in applause, accompanied by the clinking of glasses all around the pavilion and sweet, light music for the Hugheses’ first dance. Between the spirits he consumed during his speech and the infectious joy that fills the venue, Roy soon starts to feel lightheaded. He steers clear of the dance floor as the guests pair off and weave around one another, and it’s easy to spot Riza in the crowd from where he stands.

Riza sits at the far side of a table occupied by some of Gracia’s friends, chatting away good-naturedly with a drink in hand. She’s laughing, and what a sight she is on this night away from work, so relaxed and carefree, wearing a honey brown dress that brings out the color of her eyes. She should be dancing, Roy thinks; she should be enjoying this night, not just sitting back to watch it go by as if she had come here alone.

Well, some date he is.

It’s even more outrageous now, the idea of being Riza’s date to this wedding. Not that he knew what he was thinking even when he asked her to go together, but he never actually planned as far ahead as dancing or dining or anything they can do together now that he has completed his duties as the best man. Above all, this isn’t how he had pictured Riza to look tonight, so warm and friendly and beautiful—no, different from the one he invited to be his date yesterday. This is closer to a Riza he hasn’t seen in a long time, not since he left for Ishval, anyway. How does he even strike up a conversation with an old friend from a lifetime ago? What is he supposed to do?

Roy knows one thing—he will mind seeing her dance with someone else right now.

Gracia’s friends rise from the table after a while, leaving Riza by herself. By this time, Roy has helped himself to one, now another glass of brandy, and he isn’t sure whether he’s still on his feet despite the drink or drunk enough to be bold. He takes the long way around the venue to Riza. She turns her head when she hears him approaching.

“That was a very beautiful speech, Sir,” says Riza as Roy sits at the table, leaving one empty seat between them. “It’s a shame Mrs. Mustang isn’t around to hear it.”

Roy laughs, only now realizing that no one has brought up that gaffe since yesterday. “Well, shame it isn’t my wedding. But thank you. I’m glad you think so.” He breathes a deep, thoughtful sigh. “If I’m being honest, this is perhaps the happiest I remember being in a long time.”

Riza nods slowly. “I see.”

Without directly looking at her, Roy can tell that Riza is watching him, deep in thought. She takes a sip of her wine. After a long silence, she admits, “I haven’t been to a wedding in a while, myself. I’d forgotten it was possible for people to be this… happy. It hasn’t been easy to find things that make everything we’re doing worthwhile.”

The look on her face now is different from her usual quiet expression. There she is again, Roy thinks—perhaps she suddenly looks so much like her younger self because her thoughts have wandered to a much simpler time, before all the pain they went through together. Or could she perhaps have carried those thoughts in the back of her mind all along, never allowing herself to pay attention to them, but hoping she might find a place for them in the complicated circumstances they have found themselves in?

And in this moment, Roy realizes that more than remembering the Riza from his past, what he wants is to care for the Riza he knows in the present. To be a companion to her, and for her to return the favor; goodness knows how much they have needed each other all this time, and how much more they will need each other moving forward. Above all, she is someone he knows well enough to want to know better.

So, after a while, he quietly asks, “What are you thinking now?”

Riza smiles. “That what you said in your speech is true.”

Roy raises his glass, and she clinks hers against it. This is the first time in a long time that he has seen her smile like this, that Riza has smiled at him. It feels now as if he has been newly welcomed into her life, that at last—once again—she could trust him as much as he does her.

He rises to his feet.

“I’d hate for you to have just come to watch a speech, Hawkeye. Would you like to dance?”

[hb-writes]

The Horsewoman

Summary: 1913 in the Little Lady Blinder universe. Shelby sister, Clara, and her twin are ready to start school, but Clara is a bit hesitant. Thankfully, her older brother knows how to negotiate.

Inspired by this request: Could you write about the twins first day at school? Like Clara is scared but Finn is excited. And because they didn’t have much money they’ve saved for a while to get them new clothes just for school and Tommy helps them get ready and drops them off for there first day x

Featuring: Tommy Shelby, Finn Shelby, Polly Gray, and Clara Shelby (OC)

Tommy was awake and had been for some time now, going back and forth between reading and watching his little sister rest. Her features had finally smoothed out, her face relaxed in a way that only came with a lack of consciousness, the small wrinkle of worry taking up seemingly permanent residence on her forehead cleared away now as slow, easy breaths fell from her mouth.

Clara had climbed into his bed a little before sundown the evening before, burrowing herself in the blankets after claiming an upset stomach and abstaining from dinner. She passed more than half the night awake, her restless body nestled up beside her brother while he too failed to get much by the way of sleep, kept alert by the five-year-old's nervous energy.

Clara's agitation about starting school wasn't something quite congruous with the child she'd come to be understood as. She loved books and learning and was obviously bright. She commonly forced her twin into playing at schoolhouse, so the family was rightfully perplexed. Tommy wasn't so surprised by it though. He knew there was something they were all missing, something about school Clara was fixating on, focusing all her energies on some troubling thought she hadn't worked up the nerve to discuss.

The shift happened when they told her the twins would be enrolled in the next coming school year. If he didn't know the girl better, he'd have called her behavior a sudden disinterest in the idea of school and learning, but Tommy knew she had not spared a thought to anything else during the last few weeks of summer.

Tommy glanced up at a light rapping on the door, Finn pushing it open before he could offer a response. The boy was in his new school outfit, quite a sight considering he spent most of his days covered in a layer of dirt and dust after playing out on the lane.

"She's still asleep?" Finn's words came out as a half-whisper as he noted the lump of blankets on the far side of his brother's bed.

Tommy nodded, glancing down at Clara for a second before looking back to his little brother, a mess of laces tucked into the side of his boot. Tommy beckoned him forward, patting the chair sat beside his bed. Finn would need to learn to tie them for himself soon, though Tommy supposed with the twins being in the same class, he'd get by alright with his sister doing any needed midday shoe tying.

"Aunt Polly says if Clara doesn't come down now she won't get any breakfast." Finn still attempted a whisper, carefully annunciating Polly's message as he lifted his feet to rest on Tommy's lap to deal with the laces.

Tommy looked to his sister again, certain Finn's attempts at whispering would have woken her by now. Clara’s deep breaths had ceased and she laid beside him completely still, her body gripped in an unnerving rigidity. He could see the effort she put into holding her eyes shut, the small wrinkle firmly back in place between her furrowed brows.

"Is she still sick?" Finn asked when Tommy lowered Finn's feet. 

As Finn leaned over his brother to get a better look at his sister, Tommy thought Finn could be right. Clara might be making herself sick over the whole thing, turning over some small misunderstanding in her mind.

"Worried sick, maybe," Tommy answered.

Clara remained still against him though a muscle in her cheek twitched at his words. Tommy snorted lightly before turning back to Finn.

"What's she worried about? It's just school. Everyone from the lane will be there."

Clara shifted under the blankets, moving them up and over her shoulder as she burrowed further still into Tommy's side. He sighed and shook her shoulder. "Alright there, Clara girl. Time to get up."

When she ignored the prompting, Finn reached over Tommy, his pointer finger extended with every intention of pushing one of his sister's eyes open to help her along, but Tommy nudged Finn's pudgy hand away before he could make contact.

"C'mon, Clara. I know you're awake."

Clara shook her head and Tommy scoffed, pulling her onto his lap as he leaned against the wall.

"We can't have you going to school hungry," Tommy said.

"Aunt Polly made a special breakfast."

"See that? Finn says you've got a special breakfast waiting."

"Not hungry," Clara mumbled.

Tommy knew she had to be hungry after missing dinner, but rather than showing any desire to head down the stairs, Clara settled in his lap, pulling the blankets up to cover herself once again and hiding against his chest. Tommy tried again to pull her out of hiding with a different line of discussion.

"Doesn't Finn look nice in his new outfit?"

Clara glanced at her twin and nodded. She had an outfit of her own to get into, something Ada helped pick out, an outfit Clara showed little interest in though it was a red dress she’d usually be eager to get into. Tommy had a feeling it had less to do with preferences and more to do with whatever Clara was worrying on about school.

"Finn, why don't you run and tell Aunt Polly Clara will be right down, eh?"

Clara snuggled in again as Finn closed the door.

"I don't wanna go."

"Sure you do," Tommy answered, "You've got your new dress and you'll be with Finn and –"

"I wanna stay with you."

"What about Finn?"

"Finn has friends."

"Then you have friends too," Tommy answered.

Clara shook her head and Tommy amended his words. "Then you have your brother, and you'll make friends."

Clara released her grip on Tommy intending to slip back into her spot between him and the wall but Tommy caught her and towed her back into his lap.

Clara was a kind child, pleasant and clever, but she also kept to herself and her family more often than not. She didn't relish spending her days out on the lane with the other kids and when booted out of the house for some air, she'd more often than not spend that time on the stoop drawing or reading or practicing her writing. Rather than chase a ball about or get up to the mischief of the day, she liked to follow her siblings and aunt around. She liked to help with Martha and John's babies. She liked to go to the yard and be with the horses. She didn't have a hoard of friends from the lane like Finn did.

"You've got to go to school. And before you go, you've got to eat a good breakfast, and Ada will—"

"But I don’t want to," Clara answered, settling against his chest.

"Well, we all have to do things we don't want to, eh?"

Clara shook her head. "You get to do what you want."

Tommy considered how it must have looked that way to the five-year-old. It must've looked like everyone other than her and Finn had free rein to do as they pleased because they all came and went through the doors of no. 6 Watery Lane as such. Tommy passed his days interchangeably between the shop and the horses, stopping in to play with the twins at seemingly random intervals, devoting his evenings to Greta Jurossi.

"Well, that's 'cause I already finished school."

Clara groaned, sensing the impending defeat, and with Tommy's hands reaching for her sides, she knew he was about to peel her away so she gripped him a bit tighter.

"Alright, how about this? I'll make you a deal. You go to school for one…" Tommy smiled at his sister's pout before continuing. "You give me one day and if you hate it, you never have to go again."

Clara lifted her head. "Never?"

Tommy nodded. It was a lie because she'd need some type of education lest they wanted the parish to descend upon them for lack of attendance, but Tommy wasn't concerned his sister would actually take him up on the offer.

"If you've had the most terrible day and you never want to go back or learn another thing ever again, you can come help me and Curly with the horses for the rest of your life. You’ll be the third-best horseman in England."

"Horsewoman," Clara mumbled.

"What?"

"I'll be a horsewoman."

"Of course," Tommy said. "The very best horsewoman in all of England, then, but you have to try school first."

Tommy's offer allowed him to lift Clara from the bed with minimal argument though she kept her arms latched around his neck as he carried her down the stairs to settle at the table. 

Polly rolled her eyes at the spectacle and tried to usher her niece off Tommy's lap, but Clara stayed put, ignoring her aunt's protests as she took a piece of toast from the plate Polly set before them. It was clearly intended for Tommy, another smaller portion placed one spot over.

"You won't be able to bring your brother with you to school, so you may as well get used to sitting in your own seat now."

Tommy leaned forward to pull the second plate closer and retrieved a piece of toast for himself while Clara tucked into his eggs. "She's not hurting any—"

"Aunt Polly, you're wrong. I am bringing my brother to school," Clara answered, mouth full of food as she pointed at Finn. Polly rolled her eyes before the girl continued. "And Tommy says I only have to go to school for just one day and then I get to be a horsewoman with him and Curly forever."

Tommy coughed on a bit of toast as she said it. He really shouldn't have been surprised, should have expected his sister to air the remark at the first opportunity. She seemed to take a great satisfaction in telling the world all the things her big brother told her he could be, all the things he promised to teach her.

Polly scowled at her nephew, shaking her head. "Well, that's just wonderful, Thomas. Fill her mind with—"

"It's only if she doesn't like it, Pol."

"Only if she doesn't—" Polly scoffed, tossing her hands up before busying herself with the dirty dishes on the table, muttering as she went. "Makes me wonder who really runs this family… the adults or a pair of spoiled five-year-olds?"

Tommy took a breath, meeting each of the twins' eyes in turn as Polly took the dirty dishes to the kitchen. They giggled as Clara continued munching on her toast, the laughter stopping abruptly when Polly stepped back into the room.

"Well, regardless of any deals you've made with your brother, you're due to school this morning. So be off and up the stairs if you're finished. Ada will help you get dressed."

"Ada's still in bed," Finn offered, "Said she doesn't have to be up 'cause she's got her certificate now."

Polly groaned, tugging Clara from Tommy's lap and sending her towards the stairs. "Just when I think it's only the boys I have worrying me, you girls decide to kick off."

Tommy pushed his chair back and stood up. "Let Ada sleep."

Polly's eyebrows raised. "You're going to get your sister ready for school?"

"I'm not a baby. I can dress myself,” Clara said.

“There you have it, Polly. She’s not a baby. She can dress herself," Tommy answered.

“Fine, just make sure it’s done in the next five minutes. I want all three of you out the door by then.” 

They were actually ready to be out the door in under four minutes, but Polly took fault with the state in which Tommy left his sister’s hair so they all waited while Polly put in a neat plait down the girl’s back.

The walk to the schoolhouse wasn’t so long, and by the time Tommy and the twins reached the end of Watery Lane, they were joined by a smattering of the younger kids living along the way, the group of them chattering excitedly with Finn.

Clara deliberately slowed their pace, putting a thoughtful measure of distance between them and the kids. Tommy allowed it, shortening his strides to keep them back. He thought she had something to tell him, but Clara stayed quiet, watching Finn and the other kids and listening to them chattering away.

It was only when they were just outside the schoolyard that Clara finally found her words, tugging on his hand to garner his attention.

"Tommy?" she asked. “What's the catch?”

Tommy looked down at her, neat and prim and proper in her new dress, looking more like she belonged at home with a governess than the crowded classroom she would soon find herself in. "The catch?"

“If I don’t go to school and be a horsewoman instead,” she said, “What’s the catch?”

Clara knew there was good and bad to everything and she had been thinking about the question from the moment they stepped onto Watery Lane, wondering what could be bad about spending her life with the horses and her brother. She knew he came home dirty and tired, but whenever they went to the yard, he seemed happy. 

Tommy smiled, lifting her into his arms. "Hard work, my girl, but you've got that either way. Just have to decide if you want to be mucking stalls or reading books."

Tommy saw the teacher at the steps, saw Finn already off with his friends from the lane, but he offered Clara a few more moments in his arms. He searched for a few words to encourage her before setting her feet to the pavement, but as the teacher rang the bell, the sound still invoking something in Tommy though he’d been out of school for years, Finn raced to their side and reached a hand up towards his sister.

"C'mon, Clara."

Tommy let Clara down when she clasped Finn's outstretched hand, her grip on Tommy lasting just a moment past her sliding down his side. It was a mix of relief and sadness Tommy felt when Clara let him go, his girl taking the hand of another brother for support, the babies embarking on a new adventure all of their own.

Tommy watched them make their way through the schoolyard, already decided that he wouldn't step away until they were safely beyond the heavy wooden doors. They were nearly through it, already offering their greetings to the young teacher ringing the bell when Clara dropped Finn’s hand and raced down the steps, making it back to him in less than half the time it took to get to the door.

Tommy kneeled down to meet her. He had the words prepared now, had finally found the right message to send her on her way, but Clara interrupted him before he got a proper start, whispering into the crook of his neck as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Can I still be a horsewoman with you even if I like school?"

Tommy grinned and pulled back to look into her eyes. "You can be whatever you'd like, but if you don't get up those steps with Finn, the first thing you'll be is late."

Clara hugged her brother again before sprinting back towards the school. Tommy knew it was unlikely his sister would be a horsewoman or a lady barber or any of the number of occupations she'd asked after, but Tommy didn’t have it in him to deny his sister that happiness. He decided long ago not to deny either of the twins that if he could help it. 

-----

Read more Little Lady Blinder here.

-----

🏷:

@beautycinders​​ @buckybluebarnes (can’t tag) @cecii22me​​ @lovemissyhoneybee​​ @marquelapage​​ @midnight-dreams-23​​ @mo-onstarrs​​ @ohhersheybars​​ @pollyrepents​​ @unicorndetective22 (can’t tag)

[lloverz]

A gentle reminder to drink your shakes

Wake up and take a few deep breaths. Don’t think about everything you need to do today. You’ll get there when you need to, but for now just breathe.

Take yo meds!!! They’re good for you!!!

I know mental health disorders are hard to talk about. This is a safe space for EVERYONE & I would love for my followers to interact w me. I have a few posts about “meds” so in order to make you feel more comfortable, I’ll tell you what I am currently going through.

Bipolar

Borderline Personality Disorder

PTSD

there’s something else but I forgot lol

There’s nothing to be ashamed about. In fact, I recently realized that it’s important to tell the people you love and care about. I realized that I was having irrational arguments and it effected the people I love the most. My family has never really been “picture perfect” so I ignored my symptoms for a long time. I’ve been off of my meds for over a year and today (rn actually) I’m going to the dr to get them refilled.

It’s not only important to tell your family, but your extended family and friends.

Recently I had a conversation with my ex’s cousin and she sadi that for the past 4 years, her entire family thought I didn’t like them. It was because the “smallest thing” would drastically change my mood, and they thought it was because of them. I felt so bad and immediately told her that I love them, and btw I have these mental health issues.

Right after I told her what I have, she immediately said “ohhhh okay, yeah I can see it” and it felt like years of distance disappeared just because I was open about my experience.

I used to be the type of person to be ashamed and hide this information, until I realized that it’s actually very common. A lot of people never do any self reflection, so they don’t think there’s a reason to go to the dr. There’s a couple people in my family that show even more intense signs of being bipolar than me, yet when the subject comes up they deflect. So if there’s already a few of those in MY family, I can imagine they are everywhere. There’s nothing to be ashamed of about getting proper help and knowing yourself!

signs of a bipolar person ( based off of what it’s like to be me lol )

extreme mood swings. for me, I will be manic for about 3 months then in my lower state for the next 3 months and so on. Mood swings also happen when a person becomes irritable, resulting in A LOT of intense anger. (shaking, yelling, aggressive actions for at least an hour)

when in a manic state, I am super creative. I’ll start a million businesses AND keep working on other creative things. I went from spending a lot of money I didn’t have to creating businesses with what I do have.

when in the lower state, it feels like there’s zero motivation. “everything is what it is and isn’t what it isn’t. everything is nothing and nothing is everything, what’s the point? life goes on” this is accompanied with feelings of depression, insecurity, A LOT of anxiety, etc.

when in a manic state, I feel like I want to solve ALL the WORLD’S problems. Sign me up for mayor, I’ll get shit done around here. this state of mind is accompanied with confidence, security, charisma, openess, hanging out a lot with friends and family, and being very active always doing something.

Now I’ll let you know what it’s like to be borderline. this subject is a little harder because when I think about the times I displayed this behavior, I really look at it with disgust because why would I do that?? lol. But i know that’s something I need to work on in myself. I can’t control what I am not aware of at the moment so I can’t be too hard on myself. I just need to be more self aware to tackle these BPD character traits. Let’s not have shame about who we are.

taking on characteristics from others ( convincing yourself that you like/don’t like the same things as them )

having a sense of not really knowing yourself

having a hard time “fitting in”

I’m not really sure what other characteristics I display of BPD, that is something I need to pay more attention to. If you feel as though you have any of these symptoms, don’t hesitate to talk to a psychiatrist. I have insurance that pays for my medication and my therapy visits, you can sign up for benefits online. There’s nothing to be ashamed of and it’s best to get the care you need.

i love yall, take care!🫶✌️

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

TS: Farak (Difference) [3/3]

Read Part 1, Part 2

Payal sat still, counting every minute. She breathed to calm her senses, get a grip on reality but for once she wanted to crash and cry. Pour her heart out. Be the unreasonable, emotional one. Yet she couldn’t afford to.

Because she had no shoulder to cry on. Nani’s quiet blessing, Bua-ji’s smile of assurance - all came when the news of her pregnancy broke. Somehow, her news made their day.

It was the silver lining of their clouds. Their worries for her stemmed from the child in her stomach, not for her sister in the ICU. 

Payaliya, you have to take care of yourself, you can’t worry yourself sick.

Your tension will negatively affect your child. 

You’re responsible for two lives. 

Three. 

She couldn’t stop feeling responsible for Khushi’s life. The city of Delhi seemed strange and cold when her sister had moved from one job to another, biting her humiliation with a smile to provide for the family. 

Their Bua-ji had smiled, regarding Khushi with pride for taking the city as her own. But Payal laid awake night after night, growing further spite for the city that demanded so much from her baby sister.

She hadn’t been able to fall in love with the city. 

Just with a man from there. 

And today, she was reminded how alone she was. With no sister by her side, nor any love for the man who made this place her home. 

She and her sister were alone. 

Perhaps they always were. 

---

After several grueling hours, Khushi stabilized. Payal sat by her side, stroking Khushi’s head with the aching tenderness of a mother. Arnav rested on the couch, nearly dropping off to sleep. Akash and the rest of the family waited outside. 

Khushi’s heart monitor beeped, in little echoes. 

“It’s time for you to wake up Chutki,” Payal whispered. Grasping Khushi's frail hand, Payal placed it on her stomach. 

“You’re going to be a maasi.” 

Arnav snapped out his fatigue, surprised at the news. 

Payal finally allowed herself to feel the joy of a new child settle in. And she broke down, clutching Khushi’s hand tighter. 

“Please wake up,” She begged, hunched over the bed, shoulders shaking. Pressing soft kisses to her hand, Payal drew all the strength and comfort from an unconscious Khushi. She could imagine her sister jump in joy, planning on spoiling the child in utmost detail. 

“Kuch toh bol Khushi,” Payal sniffled, caressing Khushi’s cheek. 

A gentle tap on her shoulder, a white handkerchief. 

Payal froze, proprietary kicking in an instant. 

“Thank-” She froze midway. There was a wall of ice between them. His yells were loud enough to travel through walls.

Arnav couldn’t bring himself to congratulate Payal. Not when the woman who would happiest at the news lay motionless in a bed. 

Arnav sat on the other side of the bed, caressing Khushi’s fingertips. 

“We wanted to tell the family about the truth. But we were afraid.” Payal confessed. 

“I understand.” Arnav did. In the five months of being married to Khushi, he was unable to tell the truth to his family either. The idea of preservation was so tempting that it had physically hurt him to break Anjali’s bubble. Shyam’s deception had burned into his skin like poison, but his sister - happy and smiling - made up for all the hurt. 

He had bought time and did nothing. 

Payal wished she had been a bit less in love with Akash, then she wouldn’t have succumbed to her family’s pressure of hiding the truth from the Raizadas.

And now that their lives had fallen apart like a pyramid of cards, she was left with nothing but regret and bitterness. 

It was fair for the family to be angry with them for hiding the truth. 

But blaming Anjali’s health on them?  

A knock interrupted her thoughts. Manorama stood on the other side of the door. 

She was not welcome. 

“Is Phati-”

“Khushi is fine,” Payal addressed her mother-in-law without looking at her. Manorama gasped at Payal’s hidden anger and turned away, crying. She knew she was guilty of mistreating Khushi, she just didn’t want to confront that. Not now. 

“Payal,” Payal stiffened at her husband’s voice. 

She approached the door, her anger placated at his confusion. It was a big day for him. They were going to be parents. 

“Akash-”

“Why did you speak to maa like that?” Her barely-there smile slipped off her face. 

Of course. 

Arnav kept the papers down, surprised at the edge in Akash’s tone. Akash realized his mistake a bit late, especially when he saw Khushi lying still in the bed behind, numerous tubes fitted in her. 

He had been so used to superficially balancing relationships that he barely noticed the undercurrents and fractures.

Arnav itched to go to Akash and Payal, talk about their obvious strain in the marriage, but he knew better. Wasn’t it ironic that everything was tied to Akash and Payal’s marriage? Khushi was afraid, to tell the truth, because of its impact. Arnav threatened her with their marriage. Khushi married him for the sake of it. And today, Akash and Payal stood on two sides of the door, a valley of miscommunication and hurt between them. 

Once again Arnav was at a crossroads on repairing a situation where no one was completely wrong. 

A gentle reminder that he was anything but God. 

Akash touched Payal’s wrist, a small contact of affection and reassurance, and tried to enter the hospital cabin. 

“What happened, where are you going?” Payal stood in the way.

“Woh, just to check on Khushi-” 

“-and do you even know who has been suffering since this morning?” Akash bristled at her tone, “Have you seen Arnav ji’s state?”

At this Arnav had to stand up and interfere.

“Payal, I’m completely fine.” Arnav clarified. 

“I know Arnav ji, but-” Payal removed Akash’s hand from her wrist, “Akash, you’re just Khushi’s brother in law, not her brother. Your duties as a son outweighs those of a damaad.” Akash blanched. He finally knew where Payal was coming from. 

Payal, do you even remember that you’re the Raizada’s bahu? Do you even care about Di?

Arnav was confused, but one look at Payal’s bitter smile disclosed that he had intruded on something very private. With a soft ‘excuse me’ that neither heard, Arnav stepped out to give them their privacy. 

“Payal I didn’t mean that. Khushi means just as much,” 

“I know Akash. Don’t worry. You don’t even have to apologize. As you said, I only care about my family. So I’m doing that. You should go and look at your family-”

“Payal it’s our family. Humara.” Akash cut in, tired from the loop of their arguments. 

“There’s no hum, no us. Even now there’s just you and me. If- Di?” Payal stopped, brushing her tears in practiced modesty. In a language couples knew, Akash stepped back and put on an air of calm. They couldn’t expose their marital fights to the family. 

So they wore their cracked masks of concern and gentility. 

“Di, what are you doing here? Are you ok?” Akash asked, his arm extending to Anjali’s shoulder for support. 

Instantly, Payal reached out for Anjali’s hand. In a matter of days, the woman seemed to have aged years. 

“Akash, Payal ji, I’m fine. I…” Anjali choked as she tried to find words. Her heart had come to a stop on hearing about Khushi. The woman she had come to care for as her own. 

“DI!” Arnav jogged up to Anjali, hesitant as she tried to enter the room. Akash picked up on his brother’s worry without prodding. 

“Di, Khushi ji is still… it’s better if you don’t see her now.” Akash began to guide Anjali out of the room. 

“Yeah Di, let’s go home. I’ll let you know when Khushi’s a bit better.” Arnav said. 

“Nahi,” Anjali shrugged her arms out of her siblings’ grip. They treated her like a fragile china doll. But for once she wanted to break. She wanted to see the ugly side of things. She wanted to see the truth.

For once she wanted to fall. To feel the pain rush through her so much that no more would come her way. 

“Di?” Arnav, Akash and Payal murmured. 

“Please Chottey, let me see Khushi.” Anjali asked. 

“But Di, yesterday-” Akash was frightened, Anjali’s abortion attempt fresh in his mind.

“Whatever happened, happened.” Anjali heaved. She looked around and wondered if she had proven to be so weak that her family feared for her more than the woman who was on her deathbed. 

“Do you really want to see Khushi?” Payal asked. Anjali nodded. Unheeding Arnav and Akash’s quiet but frantic protests, Payal stepped back and opened the cabin for Anjali.

“Payal, why did you-” Arnav began, worried for Anjali’s health.

“Because it’s what she wanted jeth ji. And Di is my sister. This is the least I could do for her.” Payal said and closed the door on Akash and Arnav’s faces. Anjali gripped Khushi’s pale hand. Her heart, if any of it was left, broke at Khushi’s and Payal’s state. 

“Payal ji?” Anjali beckoned Payal towards her. 

And for the first time in the day, someone brushed a gentle hand against Payal’s cheek. In a mere second, Payal broke down and hugged Anjali, sobbing her fears and griefs in the older woman’s arms. 

“I’m so sorry Di, we should’ve told you everything.” Payal confessed.

Anjali broke the hug. 

“Then tell me, how did you both even meet him?”

In a few words, Payal described all the events in detail. To her credit, it was as unbiased as it could be. Anjali heard the account patiently, without interrupting - her silent questions answered with pieces from Payal’s story.

In the end, Payal apologized, again. Anjali dismissed it.

“Tell me Payal ji, chupane se kya farak pada?” Anjali asked. 

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” She said, “but, I understand what you both did and why.” Payal nearly crumpled on the floor in relief. 

“True, I believed Sh-him for a moment. That Khushi chased him, your family trapped him but at the end of the day, that story made no sense. And I had my suspicions,” Anjali sighed, remembering the sudden relatives, clients who’d always ask Shyam for money in front of her, his long trips to cities despite some concerned friends spotting him around Delhi.

But the truth was beyond her nightmares. 

“I’m… sorry Di. We truly are.” Payal whispered, clutching Anjali’s hand. 

“Just promise to not hide anything.” Anjali asked. Payal nodded, grateful for Anjali’s friendship.

Arnav and Akash stared at the three women through the glass panel on the door, wondering if they had ever understood any of them. 

---

A day later Arnav sat by the bed, his back stiff and shirt wrinkled from spending the night sitting by Khushi’s side. He had not slept a wink. 

“Chai” Payal held out a steaming cup of tea towards him.

“Thank you but I don’t take su-”

“-sugar. I know. Khushi has told me about it at least fifty times.” Arnav took the paper cup, grateful for it. Payal sat on the other side of the bed, gently fixing Khushi’s hair and blanket. 

“Jeth-ji, what had happened?” Payal asked. 

“Shyam manipulated my will to have all my properties and assets in his name. He kidnapped me on my way to London but Khushi figured out something was wrong and she rescued me. In more ways than one.” Arnav caressed Khushi’s wrist. There was a point during the kidnapping when he had feared he would never come home. 

And somehow, home found him.

“We’re sorry Arnav ji, we had no idea he would turn to this… if it makes any difference, I promise that I won’t hide anything.” Payal promised. She had known, deep in her instincts, that hiding Shyam’s truth would bite them. Arnav gave her a soft, tired smile and acknowledged the promise.

The could’ve, should’ve, would’ve floated in the air. Decisions seem clear after the consequences have been laid out after the time for deciding has passed. 

“And since we’re talking about being honest… what happened-” Arnav frowned, “on the night of your wedding?” Payal asked, her quiet fears coming true as Arnav paled. 

“There was a misunderstanding but… uss baat ka koi farak nahi padta.” (that no longer matters) Arnav admitted. His words barely above a whisper.

“Koi farak nahi padta?” (truly, it does not?) Payal asked. Arnav looked away, refusing to answer. 

“I am her sister, I deserve an answer.” Payal teared up. Arnav didn’t meet Payal’s eyes but in the fewest words possible, finally divulged the truth of his marriage to Khushi. Despite her bravado, Payal’s knees nearly buckled and she gripped the bed frame for support. 

“Payal!” Arnav shot to hold her but Payal dismissed him. She dabbed her tears with the edge of her pallu and sighed. 

“I’m sorry,” this time Payal refused to look at him.

She wanted to yell, scream, tear his hair off his scalp yet… Payal didn’t know how to react to him. A part of her berated herself, and her amma. It was their fault. Their selfishness cost Khushi her love, marriage, destiny.

How could she blame a stranger when her own made all the wrong decisions? 

“As a bhabhi I can attempt to understand you but as a sister…” Payal trailed off, biting her words - for Khushi’s sake. Hadn’t this always happened?

Everyone made decisions for Khushi. Amma decided Khushi shouldn’t say the truth. Arnav decided to force Khushi into a farce of a marriage. 

No more.

As much as her palms itched to drag her sister far away from this man, she would wait for Khushi to come back to her and speak what she wanted. 

“Payal I’m so sorry,” Payal heard his anguished apology. 

“I am not the person you should be saying sorry for-” Payal choked. 

“And why… why was it so easy to believe the worst of her? You have more respect for me, our father than the one woman you claim to love. Kyun?” Arnav had no answers. He had never known when he had crossed the boundary of haq to lack of boundaries and respect. More than often he misused his right to the deepest corners of her mind to the ability to hurt her the most. Arnav swallowed a gulp, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I-”

“-And you must be realizing this because there’s a very real chance we’ll lose Khushi forever, haina? Because God knows I forgot I had a sister until now.” Payal broke down. In the few months post-marriage Payal had been forced to choose the Raizadas above her sister, time and again. 

First out of shame because Khushi had eloped. Then because it was what good women did - care for their sasuraal first. Lastly, she was used to Khushi becoming the second choice in her life because in Khushi’s life she prided on being the first. 

Wiping her tears away, she stood up and decided to leave the room for now. 

“Khushi, please wake up.” She heard his soft sobs.

“Ab isse koi farak nahi padne waala,” (These [your pleas/apology] no longer matter) She said. Arnav remained still, refusing to believe the truth in her words. 

Payal left, she had no heart in her to forgive herself nor him. 

-- -- -- 

Arnav crouched towards Khushi, whispering words of anger and apology. 

Angry because she couldn’t leave him. Even if she had to punish him, hate him, yell at him - she had to be alive. Not for him, despite him. Khushi Kumari Gupta’s life could not be summarized into the journey of a woman who lost love, marriage, and life. 

She was too young for her story to be incomplete. 

Over time his orders reduced to begging, his tears dried to long stares. 

He made silent promises, confessions, and deals. 

But nothing made a difference. Just like Payal said.

She didn’t wake up. 

-- -- --

After a point Arnav finally fell asleep, his thoughts silent. 

There were no more pleas, promises, nor words of love whispered to her ears.

That’s when the frail palm underneath his moved a fraction. 

-- -- --

A/N: It’s taken me forever to complete this work! The biggest thank you to @ridzmystique​ who’s constantly told me and supported me in completing this story and anon - see I finally completed it (so sorry that it took so long)! 

Farak germinated from the idea of stopping time and having the characters reflect on their decisions. Farak as a word is very interesting - it means ‘matter’ ‘difference’ and its meaning changes beautifully with context. 

So it does not matter if Arnav says sorry when its too late, or expresses only in time of emergences. 

And perhaps there’s always been a difference which sister’s health was at stake. 

So my hands really itched to have the plot stop and let the characters breath. Khushi’s sickness has really nothing much for the family to grieve on. But the last words they said, that would be ingrained in their memory. 

I hope you guys liked it! 

Much love,

- S