#never watched Soul Eater have you?
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kurara-black-blog · 2 months ago
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Sylus: I want to resonate with her, but she just won't do it!
Me: Do you even know what "resonance" means, idiot?
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bcbdrums · 6 months ago
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Me, for four years: NO SPOILERS!!!
@midnightcaptions while we watch ep. 1 of Soul Eater: so Maka’s mother is missing and there’s a theory she’s dead and there’s these post cards…
Me: ….
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jyoongim · 9 months ago
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Alastors lover who is such small happy thing, always smiling but not like alastor creepy way, and who always dot on alastor and babies him. She never really got scared of him and always looks at him in awe in his demon form.
Think it would be amusing, hell even he would find it amusing such a small thing fussing and being overprotective on him.
You were quite a pleasant addition to the hotel. 
Unlike your partner, you were sweet and helpful.
Alastor thought your presence would ease the frazzled nerves of the residents if you were by his side.
You always wore a smile on your face, it wasn’t like Alastor’s ever present and malicious smile. 
It was genuine.
It was interesting to see how you and Alastor interacted.
The Overlord didnt mind your touches and fretting. He let you do what you please.
The two of you were polar opposites.
But opposite attract…and in those case it was just fascinating.
You were in the kitchen preparing dinner. Humming a soft tune as you cooked.
Most of the residents weren’t picky eaters and they loved your cooking, so you prepared something that everyone would like.
Once you finished everyone’s dinner, you started on making Alastor’s.
Alastor had rather peculiar tastes.
The kitchen filled with the residents as the smell of food wafted through the hotel.
You already had their plates prepared and dressed. Multiple voices chirped with appreciative remarks as they dug in.
Your smile widened when soft static filled the air, a feathery touch wrapped around you before Alastor’s voice greeted your ears.
”Morning doll! Dont you look hellish today” 
Your big doe eyes turned to greet his sharp ones.
“Good morning Al. Take a seat, Im almost done cookinng”
The tall red demon hummed as he took a seat at the table.
His ears flicked as you approach with a steaming plate.
”I hope you like it. Im not sure of the taste. I’ve never cooked flesh before but it looked a bit like sausage so I think it’ll be ok”
You heard several gags.
Alastor waved you off, picking up a fork “Oh I’m sure its fine. Your cooking ain’t ever failed me yet”
You finally took a seat to enjoy your own plate.
You chatted with the gang. Laughing at Angel’s jokes and agreeing with Charlie’s plans and offering advice for the day and talking with Vaggie.
Once dinner was over, everyone went about their night.
It was only you and Alastor left.
He sighed as he finished his food. “You have quite a way in the kitchen my dear. Dinner was delicious”
You giggled, taking his plate to wash.
The two of you chatted as you washed the dishes. He slithered behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as his head settled on your shoulder.
The two of you stood there in bliss until you finished and turned around.
“Why don’t you listen in on a broadcast tonight? Im sure you’ll find it entertaining” he chuckled.
You smiled as he escorted you to his radio tower.
———————————————————————-
“Alastor you need to see the tailor. Look at this!” You scowled as you held up his tail coat. The ends were raggedy, it was missing a button or two, and needed a few adjustments.
Alastor chuckled “I will make time to visit when Im out today”
You shook your head “No ill do it. You have a meeting today so don’t worry” Alastor’s brows raised “Then what am I to wear dear?”
You rummaged through the closet and pulled out another jacket. 
Alastor’s shadow wrapped around you, purring happily as you helped Alastor get ready.
Once he was properly dressed he bided you a goodbye before you stopped him.
You held his tie ”You’re not dressed properly. You want to be fully dress to terrorize the masses”
You smiled as you began to tie his bow tie around his neck. Alastor tilted his head as he watched you. You were much smaller compared to the demon. He watched as you focused on your task and mumble to yourself. You were so cute. Such a sweet soul you were. Fretting over a powerful Overlord.
Once in place, you fluffed it out and soothed out any wrinkles in his attire.
You beamed once you took a step back and admired your work. “There all ready and fashionable”
Alastor looked in the mirror and smiled at your work.
While he usually dressed in red, you had put him in black. You tucked a red handkerchief in his breast pocket and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
Static popped and buzzed affectionately and before he could pull you into him, you pushed him to the door. “Now off with you. You have a busy day”
—————————————————————————-
Your small fame stood in front of Alastor as a sinner pulled his knife. You were growling and your hair swirled around you as your demonic form appeared.
The sinner laughed “Tsk! What man need a woman to defend him? Haha! Why don’t you settle down sweetheart hmm? After I kill this loser I can show you what a real man is like” he said suggestively, making your eyes narrow.
A large hand touched your shoulder “I can handle this dear” the sinner’s eyes widened as Alastor transformed and went to scream, but inky, black tentacles shot out from behind you to grab the demon.
Alastor stalked past you and tore into the demon, ripping him apart.
While most found Alastor’s demon form terrifying, you found it beautiful.
You watched as blood and limbs flew about, but you focused on Alastor.
He had grew twice his size, black antlers flared out and tall, deep growls and manic laughter erupted from his chest.
He sighed and patted himself down as he turned his nose up at the mess. Your hand skimmed his arm, to alert him of your presence. When he turned to you, blood covered his face. You lifted the hem of your dress and dapped it at his face, tutting “This face is too handsome to be covered in blood. You sure made a mess…Look at you! Its gonna take me forever to get these stains out” you huffed as you wiped his face clean. You smiled once he was clean. “Next time let m take care of it. I am perfectly capable of protecting myself or you if need be”
Alastor let out a chuckle, placing a claw under your chin. He leaned in to place a soft kiss to your lips
”You are very amusing my dear. Most cower in fear at my presence”
You rolled your eyes, lips curling wide “You don’t scare me Mr. Radio Demon” you leaned into him as he wrapped an arm around you and went about the day.
What a interesting little soul you were indeed.
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mikashisus · 4 months ago
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PARTNERS IN CRIME!
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SYNOPSIS: soul eater au with genshin characters part one!!
PAIRING: kinich, venti, yelan, nilou x gn!reader
warnings: slight angst, mentions of death
notes: yall one of my irls finally got me to watch soul eater and it gave me so many ideas. i literally started the show back in june but i got so busy that i just.. never continued watching it.. 😭 until my friend invited me over to watch some episodes LMAO. there’ll be a part two to this cause i have more ideas with more characters teehee. anyw enjoy!!
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KINICH
• the two of you became partners on a whim. your last partner had been tragically killed in battle and you were in the market for a new one. though, you were pretty standoffish towards everyone because you were grieving
• kinich was also looking for a partner around the same time and happened upon you after a meeting with lord death. you looked pretty worse for wear and he offered his shoulder for you to cry on. without thinking, he offered to be your new partner, and you agreed
• training together for the first time was a shit show, and your best friend, mualani, sat there laughing her ass off the entire time. you kept yelling at her to go find her meister and leave you and kinich alone so you could focus
• you had even more trouble adapting because kinich’s weapon form was a greatsword and your last weapon had been a gun. it was a huge change that required you to workout and build up muscle in order to properly wield him
• after a month or so, the two of you were able to finally build up your teamwork and trust. you spent a lot of time together in and out of classes to get to know each other better and form a bond. you easily formed an attachment to him, but he was a bit more reluctant due to his introverted personality
• you were shocked at how close you became in such a short period of time. before you knew it, you were taking on missions again and working on your soul resonance
• due to losing your last partner, you now had an irrational fear of losing kinich, which caused a lot of problems in battle. instead of letting him do his duty and protect his meister, you put yourself between him and the enemy and sacrificed your life to protect him. this habit eventually caused a huge fight between the two of you, with kinich sputtering out a confession
• shocked, you were left to mull over everything until you couldn’t take being away from him any longer and went to apologize. he also apologized for raising his voice, and you had a heart to heart talk that left a confession of your own slipping out
• you asked if he could forgive you, and he said he would, but only if you stopped taking the heat and let him actually do his job. reluctantly, you did, because you couldn’t say no to him when you loved him so much
VENTI
• the two of you had been long time partners, or “partners in crime” as he liked to call it. you were childhood friends turned lovers. he was your loyal weapon, and to him, you were his trusted meister
• you got on like oil and water, but you also couldn’t be more similar. opposites attract, after all. everyone always told you that you two were the most compatible weapon and meister ever. also the strongest… literal power couple
• you were able to collect 99 souls and a witch soul in no time together. together, your strength rivaled gods. venti himself was on par with a god, even if his weapon form was only that of a musical instrument
• on weekends, you spent your time training and venti would watch you from the sidelines, simply admiring you. you’d tell him to join you, which would always result in him asking for kisses in return if he did. every time, you’d say yes, because you just couldn’t say no
• whenever someone asked how you two got together, venti would come up with something different on the spot. once, he said that he was majorly attracted to you while watching you fight with another weapon in battle, and afterwards, went up to you asking to be your weapon instead and you dramatically threw away your last partner to become partners with him
• another time, he said that he dropped his uncle’s glass of wine on you while he was drunk and you ended up taking care of him for the night, which led to him professing his undying love for you. safe to say, no one actually knows the true story
• the true story of how you two got together was actually a bit more tragic. he sacrificed himself for you when you were teenagers. during your battle to collect a witch's soul, venti heroically threw himself in front of you to protect you and he was almost killed. in a fit of rage, you completely obliterated the witch and rushed over to your injured best friend. he played the situation off by making a few jokes, though they did nothing to stop your crying. thinking he was going to die, he confessed to you before you fed him the witch’s soul
• when he came to and was all healed up, you returned his sentiments. from then on, your bond grew stronger and served as an example for younger generations
YELAN
• being yelan’s weapon was rough work. you complained that she overworked you during training and you always seemed to have a quip ready on your tongue during battle
• never a dull moment between the two of you, as you were always the reckless type, and she tried her best to reel you in. after years of working together, your bond was exceptionally strong
• she teaches at DWMA, you think it’s hot
• you have an odd job outside of being a weapon. you work part-time as a tailor’s assistant
• you like to make dresses for her and she absolutely adores them, though she never admits it because she hates (not really) seeing that smug look on your face. it’s okay though, she’ll get you back by kissing you and laugh at your stunned expression
• you spend more time arguing with her than actually helping her fight enemies. she hates it, as she just likes to get things over and done with— especially since she’s an assassin
• your personalities are wildly different, but it makes you two all the more compatible
• at the end of the day, you make a great team and you have a bond that could never be severed. you’d sacrifice your life for her no matter what, even though you had full faith and trust in her that she could handle herself
NILOU
• she was more on the timid side than you. when you first met, your explosive personality made her a bit scared of you. it took a bit of time for her to warm up to you and gain the courage to actually say something
• you were the one who took the first step and approached her first. when you did, you accidentally scared her off, which caused you to sulk for a while. you just thought she was pretty and wanted to say so..
• after talking with her friends, dehya and dunyarzad, she went on a mission to find you and apologize for the way she acted. when she did find you, you were overlooking the city and sat in complete silence. she didn’t want to interrupt, but you already knew she was there
• she apologized profusely (after gaining the courage to sit down beside you) and the two of you talked for a long while. right before she was about to go home, she told you she was looking for a partner and would love for you to be hers. that was what set everything in motion, and you pledged to protect her as best you could
• she was tough for someone who looked very shy. she moved with a grace and elegance that entranced you, and you found yourself wanting to learn how to dance as well as she could. she immediately offered to teach you, and most of the time you spent bonding together was through dance lessons
• in turn, you taught her how to wield a sword better. the close proximity was a bit of a distraction for you both (in both dancing and sword training). soon, you found yourself wishing to be by her side like that forever
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notes: shoutout to the stellaronhvnters disc for suggesting the last two characters. baizhu was also suggested, but he gives me the ick, so i didn’t include him LOL 😭 i have a discord server! it’s nice and cozy there, feel free to join! <3
© 2024 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.
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fictionismyreality3 · 10 months ago
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Can we have a smut of stalker Jason with somnophilia and crazy to eat pussy? Plsss
I mean, Jason is a natural fucking pussy eater.
AND I'M HAPPY TO HAVE PLACED YOUR FIRST RESQUET!!
Can I be the 💦 anon? To u know that is me
Too Much to Take (18+)
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Jason Todd x Reader
Tags: Smut, stalker!jason todd, possessive!jason todd
Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, somnophilia, stalking, dubcon, guns, drugs, little to no aftercare.
Notes: hi babes!! I’m so so sorry this took so long, a bear ate my phone. My beautiful 💦 your request is much appreciated. I know it’s unrealistic that the reader never wakes up but I have nevER EVER BEEN HAPPIER.
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The cool, night breeze of Bludhaven blew the white chiffon curtains your mother had gotten you in the wind. Across from your bed sat a gorgeous, kingly armchair where you loved to sit and read. Your apartment was carefully decorated by your artful hands, each piece put perfectly in its place. When you got home everyday, you knew you would be returning to a safe, cozy home full of memories and comfort items. Everything was just how it should be.
That’s why the man standing in your apartment was so out of place.
You were asleep, of course. Knocked out after a long day running errands. Your bed had welcomed you warmly, and you couldn’t resist cracking open your window just a little bit, wanting to savour the start of spring.
You knew the automatic danger that came with living in Bludhaven, but you’d saved up enough to move to a nicer area, and your apartment was on the 8th floor of your building. Surely, nobody would bother risking the fall.
Surely.
It had been three days since Jason had first saw you. Three days too long since he’d seen you in person. He’d watched you nearly every minute of the last 72 hours, consuming every ounce of information he could find about you and your life.
His shift watching over Bludhaven ended tomorrow, when Dick would be returning from wherever he went. So, he only had around a day left of viable excuse to be near you. After that, finding a reason to be in Bludhaven even longer would be his main priority. It was clear that he’d already be wherever you were. The thought of not being able to reach you was enough to shatter what little was left of his soul.
No, no, there was no going back now.
And so, Jason found himself perched on the rooftop across from your building, the endless Bludhaven rain pelting across his broad shoulders.
He spent the first few moments watching you carry out your night routine. It was all things many people in Bludhaven overlooked, or dropped as soon as their lives were overtaken by the chaos in the city. Somehow, you’d managed to maintain a semblance of a normal life even while being surrounded by shootings and drug runs.
He stayed still, hovering over your apartment like a cloud of death, his gaze never breaking to stray to anything else but you. He watched you make dinner, he watched you tidy up, he watched you get ready for bed. All of it was as fascinating to him as everything he’d seen when he researched your background.
All the little habits you did. The way you fiddled with the timer on the stove while you waited for the food, the way you danced to your music while you did dishes, the way you preferred an endless heap of pillows on your bed. Every little quirk he watched served to drill your presence deeper into his being. You were exactly what he needed.
So pure.
Innocent enough to leave your bedroom window open in the middle of a crime surge in the only city worse than Gotham.
It gave Jason the perfect opportunity to watch you sleep, and the perfect opportunity to survey your apartment for places to set up cameras. He’d need to make sure that he had every inch of the place covered so he could watch you at all times. The last thing Jason wanted was for some criminal or other creep to breathe the same air as you.
Oh, how cute.
He looked on as you settled into bed, reaching over to your nightstand to pat the head of a tiny giraffe plushy, as if it would stand guard and protect you from all the dangers in the world. You didn’t need a stupid plushie. You had him now.
But what if you needed him and he wasn’t there? What if you left your window open every night and someone with worse intentions was there to take advantage of it? He needed to be there to protect you, to keep away all the dangers and make sure you lived like a princess. It could happen tonight if Jason wasn’t careful. He couldn’t have that.
Wind blew the curtains in your window aside, as if the world was parting the barriers that lay between you. He was just going to make sure that nobody who was less well meaning than him would take a chance to hurt you.
With the speed of years and years of training, Jason hopped from rooftop to rooftop, as quiet as a panther stalking its prey. But Jason wasn’t stalking you. No, he was helping you, making sure you were safe.
Landing on your fire escape balcony without a sound, Jason stood motionless as he peered into your bedroom, his eyes locked on your sleeping form.
You were like an angel in his eyes. Something clean and untouched. Something that he could have all to himself now that he’d found you. Jason wasn’t worried about tainting you with his red-stained hands, no, you were saving him. You had saved him.
He took the time to study your bedroom, burning each item of decor into his mind. There were so many perfect spots to put cameras, and of course, he’d brought some with him just in case. They were small, tech he had ‘borrowed’ from Bruce’s generous stockpile in the safe house he was staying at.
He could have them placed and synced back up with his computer in less than five minutes. It would be so easy he wouldn’t even wake you.
And Jason didn’t want to wake you. It wasn’t just the fact that he felt you looked so peaceful sleeping, something he would hate to disturb, it was that he wasn’t ready.
If you knew who he was, how could he guarantee your safety? Not to mention the fact that you might even try to run from him.
Like hell.
So, Jason found himself pushing the window you’d cracked open further, till he could just slip inside. Landing on the balls of his feet as he’d been trained to do a hundred times before, his presence was barely audible.
Just being in the same room as you felt like he was drunk and more alert than ever all at once. In the back of his mind, a sour voice told him to stop, to let this be the farthest he went and leave before things got out of hand. God forbid Bruce found out. But he pushed those thoughts away as quickly as they came.
Taking his time, he walked slowly around your bedroom, his eyes soaking in everything that was just you. It was impossible to resist purusing your things as he came to your dresser. Trailing his fingers across all the little decorations you had, he closed his eyes, imagining he was touching your skin instead.
He couldn’t resist opening the drawers, and nearly sank to his knees when he saw that the first one he opened was full of your panties and bras. His mask suddenly felt constricting, and he immediately noticed his breaths pick up.
“Jesus Christ.” He huffed out in a sharp breath, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Looking back over at you sleeping in the bed, it was like he had the devil on both shoulders. Without thinking long enough to regret it, he reached for the prettiest pair, pocketing it so quickly it may as well had never been there.
Jason let out a heavy sigh, but continued placing cameras in places nobody but him would think to check. He’d have to come back later to do the rest of the apartment.
After just watching you sleep for what felt like far too little time, Jason finally willed himself to turn and leave. Every fibre of his being was screaming in protest. The thought of getting to be this close to you, only to have it ripped away, was almost too much to bear. Still, he made his way back to your window. That’s when he heard it.
The sound of rustling sheets filled Jason’s expertly trained ears and his gaze snapped to the noise instantly as he froze in place, halfway out your window.
Dear god.
Where you had been snuggled cutely in your blankets, you had kicked them off to leave your lower half exposed.
Your gorgeous legs lay splayed across your bed, long and elegant. All of his senses were dialled in on the singular sight of you. His cock thrummed with heat almost instantly, his pants stretched out by his girth as his gazed strayed further.
You were wearing a pair of flimsy sleep shorts and a shirt that was far too big for you and he’d be damned if he said it wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
With an amount of restraint he didn’t think he possessed, Jason bit his tongue, practically salivating at the sight of you. He rested his head against the window frame, halfway out of your apartment, halfway towards making a very bad decision.
He should leave. He should leave and never come back and leave you alone and stop. But he couldn’t.
Fuck it.
Refusing to spend any more time not having you, Jason pulled himself back through your window, prowling towards your bed.
He just stood there for a while like he had already, staring at the delicious curve of your ass and feeling his cock harden in his pants. If he was already going to hell for this then he would take his time savouring his sins.
But he could only hold himself back for so long.
With a quiet groan, Jason crept nearer to your side, pulling away the rest of the blankets as carefully as he could. It wasn’t that important for him to see all of you just yet. Not only was his mind only focused on one thing, but he knew he had all the time in the world to study every part of you. You were his after all.
Now that your lower half was exposed to the cool spring air, there was only one barrier keeping Jason from taking what was holding his entire soul. He prayed you were a heavy sleeper, and lowered himself to his stomach on the bed. Propped up on his elbows, there were only a few inches separating him from the only thing he wanted.
Thank god for sleep shorts.
In the back of his mind, he was already adding buying you something less revealing to his list of things to do, not wanting anyone to see you but him. But that could wait.
Taking off his mask and placing it on the floor beside your bed, he bit his tongue and gently hooked his fingers underneath your sleep shorts, pulling them to the side. All at once the breath left his lungs and he felt like his world was being tipped upside down. You didn’t wear any panties to bed.
Jason had to close his eyes for a moment in order to control his urge to wake you up and ravish you. When he opened them again, they flickered green and he zeroed in on what was making his mouth water.
Your pretty little pussy.
It was a miracle he’d gotten this far to be honest, but you didn’t seem to stir for anything. Thanking whatever force was allowing him this one pleasure, he moved closer to you and began taking what he wanted so desperately.
The moment his mouth met your pussy he nearly came in his pants.
Stopping for a second, he waited for any sign you were awake, his heart pounding in his ears. But you were still silent. Jason took this as his go ahead, but he had no intentions of stopping anyway.
He peppered kisses along your pussy, drunk on the softness of your skin and the taste of you on his lips. Everything in him was bursting with thrill, and he could barely stop himself from rutting against your bed to get some much needed friction. He wasn’t in his mind anymore, the only thing keeping him tethered to the planet was your sweet little cunt.
You began to breathe a little heavier in your sleep, your soft breathing quickly getting deeper. But Jason didn’t stop.
He couldn’t.
Not when you tasted so divine, not when your skin felt like heaven on his tounge. He moved to your clit now, his whole face practically pressed into your pussy. If he was gonna go out between your legs, it was a death he would gladly take.
He sucked on your clit, alternating between swirling his tounge around it in tight little circles and sloppily eating you out. It was getting harder and harder for Jason to control the level of noise he was making. His groans and low, rumbling growls began to fill the room. It was just you. Only you in his mind, his heart, and his soul.
Oh, fuck.
You were making these cute little noises now. Little breathy whimpers and whines were leaving your lips. With each sound that reached his ears, he felt a bit more of his control slipping.
He hadn’t even noticed he was fucking you with two fingers until you began to squirm. All at once he halted all his movement, waiting for his fun to end, but your eyes never opened. This would all just be a really good dream for you. He almost chuckled at the idea.
Certain you’d stay asleep, he buried his face in your pussy, eating you like a man starved. His fingers pumped in and out of your now slick cunt, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted your sweetness on his tongue.
But it wasn’t enough. He needed more.
He needed to make you cum. He needed to be the one, the only one, bringing you pleasure. He wanted to feel your cum running down his face. He wanted to taste you on his tongue three days from now.
There was no point trying to contain himself anymore. He’d already jumped off the edge a long time ago. Jason pumped a third finger into you, allowing himself to grind his raging cock against your bed. The noises you were making were getting louder, and you were beginning to writhe in your sheets every time he slammed his fingers into you. He knew he’d have to be quick, but honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take.
Taking your clit in between his teeth, he grazed the sensitive skin just enough to have you even wetter for him. Jason was desperate. All his cares, all his worries had been replace by an unending, carnal urge for you.
Only you.
He pumped his fingers faster, driving them in and out while he ate you like a man possessed. Then, he got to experience what was easily the best thing that ever happened to him.
Without warning, your needy whimpers turned into one long, high pitched whine, and your sweetness burst into Jason’s mouth. He felt like he died all over again, cumming in his pants as he groaned into your pussy, shuddering. Never once did his fingers stop, only slowing to allow himself to lap up all of your juices.
The world was quiet for a moment as he stayed hooked on your cunt, his eyes closed in bliss.
But he couldn’t stay forever.
With an insane amount of difficulty, Jason placed one more kiss on your clit, and pulled your shorts back in place. His own underwear would be ruined, and he would definitely have to wash his pants, but he couldn't have given less of a shit.
Once he was sure you’d stay asleep, he moved off the bed, coming to stand beside your now flushed face. Jason didn’t know what was worse, having to leave after tasting the best thing ever, or the fact that you’d only remember this as a dream.
Not wanting to think about anything but how full his heart felt, he leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to your cheek.
“Sweet dreams, baby. You’re mine.” He whispered softly, as if you could hear him, and brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear.
Taking one last glance at your pretty face, he turned and crept his way out of your apartment, leaving the way he came, through the window.
He made sure to close it.
It was clear to Jason that he should be feeling shame, remorse or disgust with himself for what he just did, but the only thing on his mind was how he wanted you awake for next time. And there would be a next time.
When you awoke that morning, and the haze of sleep cleared from your mind, your focus instantly went to the wetness between your thighs. You blushed as vague memories of a rather nice dream sprung to the forefront of your thoughts.
Shaking your head, you crawled out of bed, yawning, when your eyes caught on a slightly confusing sight.
“Didn’t I leave that open?”
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wordsarelife · 10 months ago
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—timeless
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pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader
summary: draco malfoy wouldn’t have thought to come across you in a dark magic shop or how eager he would be to marry you
notes: i changed it up a bit, i hope that’s alright
warnings: mentions of grooming, loved ones dying || navigation
the dim light of the street lantern was falling into the window of the dark magic shop. the wind hit the bells behind the door when it got opened, making them chime a melodic melody.
“hello?” a voice asked.
you looked up from the paper on the counter and searched for the person that had just come through the door. it wasn’t long until draco malfoy entered your field of vision.
“l/n?” he asked surprised when his eyes fell on you.
“malfoy” you noted. his hair was as light as ever, but he looked a bit healthier since the last time you had seen him, which arguably wasn’t the best. it had been the final fight and you had watched him being walked away by his parents.
“what are you doing here?” he proceeded to ask “i wouldn’t have thought that someone like you would come anywhere near this shop”
you hadn’t been friends at hogwarts. quite the opposite really. you had always belonged to ron, hermione and harry, while draco had made it his mission to torture them.
although you had always been by their side, he had never once said anything about you. probably because even draco malfoy pitied you, like the rest of the school.
your parents had been brutally killed by death eaters during your second year in hogwarts. even though you hated to see the pity in people's eyes, you had never noticed it when he looked at you. it was just silence, like he had not a single thought in his head whenever he would look at you, as if looking at you would silence the rest of the world.
you had always looked at bit smaller, a bit more fragile than your classmates. so fragile, not even draco malfoy dared to break you.
“my uncle bought the shop last year” you answered truthfully “and as i’m staying with him..” you trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence hanging in the air.
“aha” malfoy nodded, and having decided that that was enough smalltalk either of you could endure, without growing uncomfortable, his hand went to the bag he was carrying and took something out.
he set the object down on the counter in front of you. it looked like a normal mirror, but it was black and you knew that it wouldn’t do you any good to search for your reflection.
“it’s my fathers” malfoy said after a few seconds of silence, before he cleared his throat “it was my fathers”
“oh” was all you could say.
“i’m trying to sell a few of his belongings.. that are on the darker side” his eyes found yours as he finally looked up “i don’t think anyone would be particularly happy about us still keeping those things”
“yeah, no” you agreed, gently taking the mirror into your hands.
“what does it do?” malfoy asked and you furrowed you eyebrows, surprised that he was asking you.
“nothing good” you said vaguely, watching his eyes darting over the object in your hands “it’s corruption” you concluded “every object of dark magic just corrupts the soul and in comparison, what they can do is just not worth it”
“i know” malfoy nodded quickly, his eyes returning to watch you instead of the mirror.
you wrapped it up in some paper and taped it shut, so no one was dared to look at it.
“that’s why i’m selling it” he said “that’s why i’m selling all of these things my father owned. it will just take me some time to find all of them”
“okay” you nodded, not sure what you could say instead.
“i just have the mirror with me today, i wanted it out of the house as soon as i found it” he added quickly. it seemed like not saying anything was motivation enough for him to talk.
or maybe, what you didn’t know was that he had so much to say, because he couldn’t tell it to anyone else. there were just him and his mother in that dark house and he wouldn’t try to talk to her about any of this. she had been through enough.
to his surprise he found a bit of comfort in your warm eyes, making it almost impossible for him not to tell you everything. and it was weird that you were harry potters best friend of all people. but you were friendly and you were here, so he didn’t care.
maybe he had never really cared that he should not be feeling about you this way.
you took out a book that seemed so old, that it almost fell apart when it hit the counter and turned the pages to find the price range for the dark magical object that was still laying next to you.
malfoy was watching you in complete silence and before he could question if the mood had shifted to become uncomfortable, a happy squeal broke out of your lips.
“i got it!” you smiled, pointing at the top of the page. malfoy tried to bend his head to look at it, before you were finally friendly enough to turn the book in his direction.
“huh” malfoy nodded “it's more than i thought it would be worth”
“that's quite common with these objects” you smiled happily and malfoy mirrored your expression. he was a bit surprised you were smiling at him, but it seemed like you didn’t harbour any hard feelings towards him.
he remembered you clearly, a few months ago at hogwarts, standing on the stairs, your braid ripped apart, lose strands of hair flowing in the wind. your face filled with dirt. there had been blood coming from a cut in your lip.
he wasn’t sure if he had just imagined it, but for a split second, your eyes fell on him. standing on opposite sides, tears brimming and flowing over your cheeks quickly.
maybe you had been the sole reason for him to throw his wand at harry potter. maybe he had done it because it had felt like you had asked him to.
how could he ever ignore the calling of a beautiful girl, standing in the middle of a war, crying for him to do something?
“thank you” he nodded when you passed him the galleons. he walked back to the door, feeling your eyes on him.
“draco” you called and he turned around quickly. he had never heard his first name coming out of your mouth. it sounded so beautiful when you said it. so soft and gentle, almost like it wasn’t a curse. “thank you”
no, he had not only imagined it.
draco smiled at you and nodded. he left the shop without another word.
it only took him about a day to come back. he spent more than just a few hours searching the house for more of his fathers artifacts, storing them away safely, so he could bring in one at a time. he wasn’t sure why, but the possibility of seeing you excited him. making his days bearable.
“draco” you greeted when he entered the shop. he was almost glad that you stuck to calling him by his first name.
“hello” draco nodded, he wasn’t daring enough to use your first name just yet.
“you came back quicker than i had thought”
just because of you, draco thought to himself, just nodding to you, as if that was answer enough.
just like the day before, his visit didn’t take long. with you inspecting the artifact, taking out the book and giving him his galleons before he could even ask you anything.
he made sure to bring more than just one object when he came in the next day.
“how have you been?” he asked as he watched you turn the pages of the book.
you shrugged, not quite sure what to answer “harry, ron and hermione went back to hogwarts, so it’s a bit lonely, but it’s alright”
it astonished him how often you spoke about your friends. you had even done that during your time in hogwarts, a bit like you were always dependent on them.
“why didn’t you?” he wasn’t sure if he was crossing a line.
“huh?” you looked up at him “went back to hogwarts?” you asked and his smile died down when you began to laugh. “no” you shook your head and he recognized the sadness quickly wandering over your face.
“and why—“ before he could finish his question, you had taken out the galleons and held them in his direction.
“here” you interrupted.
he left the shop with an uneasy feeling, scared he might’ve offended you. but everything was back to normal when he came in the next day and the few following after that.
it had been three weeks of him visiting the shop regularly, his mother already wondering what he was doing there so often, when for the first time it wasn’t you behind the counter, but an elderly man.
draco waited patiently at the door, as another costumer was standing at the counter.
“where is y/n, cornelius?” he could hear the man ask. he was well into his thirties, looking a bit too old to have any connection to you, but maybe you were just as friendly with him as you were with anyone else and draco really wanted to know the answer to his question.
“oh” the bearded man, probably cornelius, behind the counter shook his head “she went off to collect a few things that we need”
“that’s a pity” the costumer noted “i had hoped to see her beautiful face one of these days”
draco grimaced at that. he ignored the costumers greeting, before the man left the shop.
“hello” cornelius waved at draco to come forward.
“afternoon” draco greeted.
“draco malfoy, right?” the man asked “y/n told me about you coming in and selling your father’s artifacts”
“that’s right, sir” draco nodded.
“you two went to hogwarts together, didn't you?” cornelius smiled “i’m her uncle, cornelius barnes”
“it’s very nice to meet you, mr barnes” draco shook the man’s hand “is y/n alright?” somehow he could sense that barnes answer to the strange man’s question had been a lie.
“yes” barnes nodded “she’s just in the back. she’s not fond of hector” he pointed to the door.
“ah” draco nodded. he could understand that you’d rather hide away as soon as that man came into the shop, even draco found him uncomfortable.
“he’s been wanting to marry her” barnes continued and draco wondered if it was in the man’s nature to just tell private things to costumers or maybe, draco was the closest thing to a friend y/n had right now, considering the rest of them had went off to hogwarts.
“isn’t he at least ten years older than her?” draco wondered.
“twenty” barnes corrected and draco shivered. “sad enough that she’s actually considering it”
draco’s chin had almost hit the counter at that “what?” he asked outraged “why would she ever marry someone— like that” he finished quickly.
“i’ve been trying to talk her out of it, but she’s always been too selfless for her own good. she didn’t even go back to hogwarts”
“i had figured she didn’t want to”
barnes shook his head “she decided against it. i wish it wasn’t like that, but money is tight and y/n wants to do anything possible to save me” he pointed down to his leg “i’m not as fit as i was a few years ago”
draco nodded understandingly.
“she’s convinced that her marriage to a man like hector could help me” barnes shook his head sadly “i wish she wouldn’t feel as responsible for me and rather find a man she could have an equal relationship with, someone that could bring her comfort after my death, someone she could actually love”
“yeah” draco nodded and mirrored the man’s sad expression. he left the shop a few minutes later, the galleons clinking together in his pocket, which made him even sadder, feeling like he was robbing you and your uncle of your last money.
it took him more than just a few days to return back to the shop, carefully thinking about how he could help you best.
“draco” you smiled when he entered the shop and he could almost read the relief from your face. “it’s alright, uncle cornelius” you patted your uncles shoulder “you can sit down in the back, i will take care of it”
barnes greeted draco, before he limped into the back of the shop.
“he’s really nice” draco said as soon as the door to had closed.
“yeah” you smiled and draco noticed how much you admired the old man “sadly we all can’t stay young for forever”
draco nodded.
you looked at him expectingly “what?” you smiled “no dark magical object?”
“not quite, no” draco shook his head, before he took out the velvet box and set it down on the counter in front of you.
“what’s that?” you asked surprised. he looked at you and nodded when you went to open the box. a beautiful ring was shimmering so much it almost blended you. “a ring?” you wondered “okay, which curse was it hexed with?”
draco shook his head. “it’s my mothers. it’s not cursed..” he thought for a short second, before he added “or magical”
“draco?” you asked and he admired how his name slipped past your lips so effortlessly, so gentle it reminded him of his first visit to the shop and the shiver he had felt every time you had said it since.
“marry me” draco said a bit faster than anticipated.
“what?” you laughed, entirely astonished at his demand.
“your uncle told me about the money problems you had” he quickly explained “i get access to my father’s assets as soon as i’m twenty-five or sooner if i get married before that”
“my uncle told you that?” you repeated faintly.
“yeah, but it’s not a problem”
you looked up at him with big eyes. “you can’t just barge in here and ask me to marry you.. you can’t just come in here and save me.. that’s not how that works, draco” you shook your head and his heart sank.
“why not?” he wondered “i’d be ready to do that for you. you need money and i have it”
“draco” you touched his hand softly “i don’t want to get married out of convenience” you explained.
“but you're thinking about marrying hector?” he raised his voice.
“he really told you everything, huh?” you muttered, looking back at the door to the private area of the shop.
“y/n!” draco called and your eyes focused back on him.
“that’s different” you tried to escape his eyes.
“how is that any different? at least i’m not twenty years old than you!” draco argued “so you’d rather get married to that disgusting—“
“yes!” you interrupted and your voice was now matching the loudness of his. “you can’t just decide to marry me because it’d be the right thing to do!”
“but it is” he shook his head “i’m trying to help you. marrying me would benefit you”
“but i don’t want to get married to you like that” the sentence had left your mouth faster than you had been able to stop it, immediately making you close it and look down. right at the velvet box and the ring that was still sitting in the middle of you.
“what?” draco asked surprised.
you sighed “i don’t care about marrying hector out of convenience, but i would care if it was you”
the smile broke out quickly on draco’s face. “you would want to marry me?” he asked “but only for the right reasons?”
“i wasn’t talking about a marriage just yet” you raised your finger and corrected him “but i wouldn’t want to destroy that option just because i could profit from it. and if i would get married to you, it surely wouldn’t be because of your money”
draco almost recognized something in your eyes. something that you saw in him that no one ever did. and even though he had never seen it before, it felt familiar and safe. “do you think you could ever love me?” he asked unsurely. maybe he was just interpreting this conversation wrong.
“i think i have loved you longer than what was probably healthy for me” you whispered, leaning on the table and resting your chin on top of your hand. “do you think you could ever love me?” you repeated his question.
his smile grew impossibly bigger. “i don’t think i could even stop if i wanted to”
he was ready to jump over the counter, to hold you close and kiss you, to make all the bad years disappear.
but before he could do anything of that sort, you smiled and closed the box containing the ring, pushing it in his direction.
“so marriage is off the table?” he asked faintly.
“not completely” you smiled “but how about you take me on a date first?” you suggested.
“okay” he smiled, then he looked around the room. there was still your problem, the one that had provoked him to ask for your hand in marriage in the first place. “i think i know someone who would buy a few of these artifacts, for more than just their market price”
“you do?” you wondered and he nodded. it was like a weight had been lifted off you shoulders. or maybe for the first time in a long time, someone else knew what to do.
you went around the corner and hugged him. he held your head in his hands, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear before he finally kissed you. soft and gentle, making a shiver run down your spine.
after all, everything became better than you had hoped it to be. you returned to hogwarts, just having missed two months of classes that you had caught up to quicker than you had been able to worry about it.
draco had started finishing his education from afar, while helping your uncle to sell most of the magic items and finally deciding on new things to sell, completely updating the place until it was filled with costumers coming in all the time.
it took a few more years, but soon enough draco proposed to you again. and in the summer of the year 2002, y/n l/n married draco malfoy for only the right reasons.
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remembrancer-of-heresy · 4 months ago
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The Sleeping Beauty
Summary: While you sleep peacefully, a bloodthirsty monster called Angron guards your dream.
Angron/fem!Reader
Warnings: yandere, obsession, power imbalance, guilt, angst, trauma
Word count: 1214
Author's note: I want to write a full fic about Angron, but for now there's only a drabble. @kit-williams, I remember you liked him the most, so I encourage you.
Song: Tiamat - The Sleeping Beauty
The sleeping beauty She stops the bleeding She stops the bleeding in my soul She is fresh air in this stinking world.
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Beyond the planet, in the vastness of space, it is always dark. And yet people still cling to the banal day/night settings. Even in the 30th millennium, despite all the technology, people needed to sleep. Angron was a primarch, he could go without sleep longer than usual. With nails, it was even harder to calm down.
But you needed to rest. And despite Angron's desire to keep you near him longer, to hear your voice, he could not deny you basic needs. He could not force or torture you. Besides, even sleeping, your presence calmed the man. Although the pain from his nails was still noticeable.
In special moments, when the rage was too strong, he was afraid to be too close to you. You were too weak, too fragile to be broken in a matter of seconds. Agron could control himself, but the very thought of losing you caused a strange burning in him. He did not want to risk it.
Your sleep is deep and carefree. Wrapped in a silky, warm blanket, you saw beautiful dreams. Peace and safety were felt around you. While the primarch, like a hunted and wounded animal, sat in the very corner of the room, watching you without stopping.
Luxury, carefree joy and comfort were alien to him. Life was not kind to him. And he did not want to be kind to himself. Not after he abandoned his brothers and sisters to die on the battlefield. Not after he betrayed them. They deserved warm food and shelter.
And yet he allowed his quarters to become a little more comfortable so that you would be better off. Previously, you lived very close to the primarch, enjoying the illusion of freedom. But with each passing day, his nails dug into your head more and more. So soon you began to sleep next to him.
Many mortals and World Eaters silently wondered what was so special about you. They whispered, they envied, they glared at you. So be it. Angron cared nothing for their opinion. He cared only for you. The main thing was that you were fine.
He did not want to make you his slave. You were a kind and gentle girl. You did not deserve such a fate, even if the Imperium openly used serfs. You were not a warrior, not like his brothers and sisters. You could not fight for your life. Any attempt would be doomed to failure. So Angron swore to himself to protect you.
He had already lost his family in Nuceria. He had already cursed the blood of his true father, the gladiator who had raised him. He remembered every face, every voice and movement. Every promise made in battle and every dream of how life would have been if Nuceria had fallen.
Angron clenches his fists and bites into the flesh. The familiar metallic smell of blood fills the air. Just a little, but still, this action brings the primarch back to reality and he comes to his senses. No, he should not let rage fill his mind. He is not in battle and besides, you are very close.
You are very beautiful. Do you know this? How often do your admirers tell you, if any? Angron will get rid of them. Your soul is serene, like a river flowing or like fog. Reminds you of the moments of calm when Angron hid from the slavers in the mountains.
Angron respected only a few mortals and Space Marines. Those he cared about were even fewer. But you burrow deeper into his soul, opening his skull. He remembers his past self, who he could have been if not for his nails. You awaken in him feelings he has never felt before. And did not think he would feel.
You made him human.
Once he saw you crying. You immediately wiped your tears and greeted him with a smile. You admitted that you missed your friends, whom you had not seen for a long time. Yes, you were afraid of him, but you still treated him kindly. As if you saw something good in Angron. But he was not a good man, not anymore.
Angron himself took human slaves. The weak and defenseless, whom he, no, the Imperium, was supposed to protect. He was not proud of it. He took no pleasure in it. Angron only wanted to destroy the Emperor as quickly as possible, and so he used human lives while they were useful to him.
How would life have turned out if Angron had met you earlier? If you had been born in a different time and place? It had been only a short time since the triumph of Ullanor, since the height of the Imperium's power. But now trillions of people were forced to suffer because of Horus' betrayal.
He betrayed the Emperor. But Angron was never loyal to him. And you knew it. You knew his entire story, you listened to every moment of his life. And you accepted him. You may not have been on Nuceria, but you shared Angron's every pain, every anger, every tear he shed. Now he could no longer cry. But with you, at least for a moment, he could feel relief.
You twitch in your sleep. Your lowing voice breaks the silence like a bolt from the blue. Angron's hearts twitch in pain, but he can barely contain it. He rises slowly. Too slowly, he approaches the bed and looms over you like a shadow.
If there were an outsider here, they would be horrified by this image. How a bloodthirsty and too powerful, too unstable primarch looms over a mere mortal girl. Like a beast about to close its teeth around a yielding neck.
But Angron can only watch. He used to devour the nightmares of his brothers and sisters. But over time, he forgot how to do it. You bring peace to his soul, but he cannot repay you in the same way. He cannot calm you, make you happier. Why? Why?
It is not fair.
But after a moment, you immediately calm down. As if you sensed his presence. The man frowns, as if he wants to cry. But he can only look at you with fury, as if he wants to tear you apart. You saw protection in him. Love. But Angron burned with anger. How could you see anything good in him? Feel safe with him?
His hand automatically reaches for your serene face. How much he dreamed of touching you. Without fear that he would break you. Gently run his hand through your hair. Brush away an uninvited tear from your cheek. Almost chastely touch his lips. Angron could do it. Right now, while you sleep. But he does not deserve it. You have already given him too much.
The man carefully hooks the blanket and pulls it up to your chin. You sigh in relief, feeling the warmth and bury yourself deeper in the fabric. Drowning in serene calm, where Angron has no place and will not.
His lips twitch, ready to turn into a grimace. But in the darkness you will not be able to see his bestial grin and glowing red eyes. Even his loud voice sounds enveloping, like an embrace.
“Sleep.”
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greenandsorrow · 2 months ago
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IF THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED NEVER HURT YOU, MAYBE IT WAS THERE TO PROTECT YOU. 🎈
Pennywise bonding with a teen!reader/ platonic
-> For technical reasons (for the plot to continue plotting), this chap focuses mostly on the past! Another thing... I appreciate your feedback and comments more than you realise, so don't hesitate to interact with my fics 🥺❣️
-> It's giving Stockholm Syndrome, I'm aware, but that's why it's called fanFICTION.
-> I think it's funny how each chapter turns longer than the last. I'm getting hooked to my own writing I guess.
-> Pennywise the Dancing Clown: A trans-dimensional entity that shapeshifts and feeds on the fear -and sometimes the flesh- of kids and animals. IT hibernates for 25 to 27 years, then wakes up for 12 to 16 months, manipulating reality and slipping past the notice of adults.
Listen to: Ilomilo by Billie Eilish
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~ 3 ~
Pennywise's POV 🎈
For five long years he has stayed awake, stalking the streets of Derry... waiting. Pennywise's usual cycle -hibernating after a killing and terrorizing spree- has been disrupted. This time, something -someone- kept him from descending to the deep slumber he usually craves.
He can't fully understand it, but it's because of you -the spark, the tug of connection he isn't familiar with. He's hunted countless children without a second thought. But with you... When he had expected you to cower and break, instead, you had resisted, you had played his twisted games and stared back at him without losing your soul. You had made him so curious. And that curiosity has gnawed at him enough to eat away at his rest, putting him in a sort of restless trance.
Every time he tries to slip beneath the Earth and to return to the darkness he came from, he feels a pull, a shudder that makes him cling to the surface for just a little more, for just another silly, little, stupid, meek year.
But as the years have been slipping by, something else has shifted in him as well -a subtle thing that feels almost like restraint. He still lurks in the shadows, his instincts are still telling him to frighten and to feed… but each time he sees you, that impulse falters. Instead of scaring you, he finds himself watching, almost guarding you from afar.
It feels a twinge of protectiveness -an urge that should definitely not exist in a creature made to hunt and devour. It doesn't get it, doesn't know why It lingers to ensure no danger befalls you, before It vanishes for the usual twenty-seven years. Almost as though, Pennywise the Clown is bound to you by something unexplainable, something that's kept him from retreating to sleep.
And It hates it.
The longer Pennywise watches, the more he wishes he didn't feel this way. But when he does try to stir up the familiar darkness within his core, it's dulled and quieted. All he knows is that his hunger has been overpowered by something else, something… protective.
And this fact is as unnatural as it is inappropriate, for no other than The Eater of Worlds.
1979 Derry, Maine
"Let's play another game..! I... There is... There's one we haven't played!"
The door creaked open and the clown stepped inside with a look you had never seen before on him. He wasn't smiling, wasn't performing... he was serious, unsettlingly so. A reminder that Pennywise wasn't -and isn't- a real clown, not in the way he pretends to be. Drool slipped from his red lips, glistening in the early morning light filtering through a crooked and badly shut window. He had probably just interrupted his breakfast -maybe to see you- and the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.
"What kind of game?" his voice rumbled low, sending a chill across your skin. Your stomach tightened and you swallowed down the bile that rose. His piercing, yellow gaze left you feeling exposed.
You struggled to think of something, anything that could buy you more time. You had to say something, or else he would just get pissed and maybe have you for breakfast, instead of the one he was -so rudely- interrupted from.
"The first one to… If I can name one friend before you do, I get to leave. If you win… You get to do whatever you want with me." You knew you were cornered, but the words had come out anyway.
A strange look flickered across his face.
"What's your name?"
You frowned at what sounded like an absurd thing to ask out of the blue. "Y/n."
He giggled.
"Oh really?! And I'm Pennywise the Dancing Clown! Now we've both properly introduced ourselves... We can be friends!!!"
The point of the game was for you to win... but he just had to be a smartass.
"WE CAN'T- CAN'T BE FRIENDS!"
Pennywise pouted, almost like a child who's just been told no. You could see the contradiction in him as he considered your words -a clown who loves games, whose eyes practically gleam with excitement... and yet a predator who's always calculating, always one step ahead, keeping his prey exactly where he wants it. He knew you had just tried to outsmart him, yet he stepped closer, drawn in by the idea of another game. Your captor knew way more about you than you had realized -he had been watching you long before he had decided to 'kidnap' you.
Actually, your desperate answer made him leave his spot by the doorframe and advance toward you, crouching down to your eye level. You were paralyzed in fear he could probably smell. Even while holding your breath, you could feel his own on your face... It smelled like a butcher's shop.
"Don't. Shout. At. Me."
You nodded.
His drool was still glistening.
"You're not leaving either."
Another nod.
Then, he left the room.
Later, you'd realize he had let you have your way with that idiotic game purely out of boredom -a way to break up the ancient routine It'd followed since the beginning of time. But in that moment, you were just trying to survive.
What happened next is clouded in fragments, your memory blurred by fear -or maybe it's nostalgia. Somehow, over time, you became something to him. Indeed... a friend... of sorts.
As more days passed, you dared to start speaking more freely, filling the silence between you. You'd mention that you were cold, or hungry and he would tilt his head in that curious way of his. The next day, a bag of chips might appear on the bed. Once, you coughed, your throat parched. Fortunately, you managed to murmur "water". A few hours later, there it was -water in a bowl.
You found your book -Alice in Wonderland- left in a corner of the room. You read to him, each word trembling from your lips but never letting your voice falter fully. Pennywise would sit at the edge of the bed, sometimes even curling up like a cat -making you question if he had any bones-, his gaze fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. You were scared that when you finished reading the book, your life would end along with Alice's story.
But it didn't.
Still, sometimes you made desperate attempts to escape, bolting to the door. But he'd catch you with a taunting grin.
"Tag, you're it!" he'd chuckle, pinning you effortlessly. "Winner gets a prize!" he'd mock, as if the only reward he needed was to see your defeated face. But despite the mocking, the punishing appearances of the enormous cockroach stopped.
Even his gaze softened over time, slipping from the predator's yellow stare to an electric blue. The games also shifted -grew less cruel- and with them, so did he. He no longer seemed intent on hurting you and instead, observed you with a cautious neutrality.
Each day It brought you random bowls of food and water -most likely stolen from unsuspecting housewives... And sometimes, It would linger just outside the door, listening to your voice as you read to yourself.
One evening, you found yourself in the backyard, gazing up at a lilac sky. He had taken you there -unbeknownst to you- because he had brought a little snack inside and didn't want that to scare you.
You missed your old life with a pang that made your throat burn, a feeling so deep you didn't even notice him approaching. Without thinking, you pressed yourself into the clown's chest, burying your face against his ruffled collar. His strange scent -a mix of damp earth and something much older- washed over you and for the first time, you felt… safe with him.
He didn't hug you back, didn't mimic the gesture, but his voice murmured strange words about humans, their fragile nature and then the usual pet name he would call you: "little one".
It was then that you realized -he wouldn't hurt you. Not now. Not after all this time. But the realization broke something in you, a dam holding back all the emotions that had been bubbling under the surface.
"Y- You won. You won!" you stammered, choking back tears. "I'm your friend! Kill me now!"
You collapsed to your knees and he watched -bewildered- as tears streamed down your face. For a moment, he just stood there and watched you cry. Then, tentatively, he reached out in an almost inquisitive manner, to catch a tear with a long, white finger and taste it. He seemed to pause, reflecting on something only he could understand.
And then on another day, another attempt to escape. You had found a tiny window in the basement and tried to squeeze through it. But he noticed, his monstrous form scraping against the window's frame, shattering the glass in a frenzy to reach you.
When you saw the shards cutting into his skin... You froze, guilt flooding over you. You returned to his side while murmuring apologies, your hands trembling as you pulled the glass from his wounds, piece by piece.
He didn't attack you -just stared at you with a seriousness that sent chills down your spine. You knew in that moment, that you had crossed a line, that there was something between you that shouldn't have been there -because you could've left but didn't and because he could've killed you but didn't either.
When you finished pulling out the glass pieces, he was pouting at you. "Meanie..." he said and stuck his tongue out.
In the days that followed, Pennywise grew quieter. He watched you differently, as if seeing you with new eyes -ones that held a warmth you'd never expected. And in a way, it made you feel… comfortable. Comfortable enough that one day, you dared to reach out, brushing a hand along his white cheek.
He froze under your touch, as if unsure how to react -his usually fierce, yellow eyes softening to that strange blue. A low sound rumbled from him -somewhere between a purr and a growl- and he tilted his head, pressing into your hand like a cat, seeming almost… content.
But that wasn't right. He wasn't human and he definitely wasn't a pet. It was something ancient and boundless... and yet here It was, in its favorite form, accepting your touch and even starting to crave it. You pulled your hand away and his eyes opened, watching you in a way that felt unexpectedly intimate.
Time continued to flow onward.
You were now given strange meals in even stranger containers -a cracked bowl, a chipped mug, even a metal dish that you could have sworn was meant for a dog! He didn't seem to understand the details of human routines, didn't quite grasp what you needed beyond food and water. Yet he tried, even if it were in ways that felt utterly alien.
One evening, just as the sun began to dip, you asked if you could go outside again. You hadn't meant it as a real question, but in the morning, you found the door to the backyard unlocked.
You didn't dare leave the property, but you enjoyed how the air was fresh and the grass was soft and the sky a little cloudy. You stayed out until evening came.
Pennywise watched you from a distance, the colors of the twilight reflecting in his eyes, giving him an almost haunting beauty. He joined you, sitting in the overgrown grass... murmuring things in a language that sounded both ancient and musical, like whispers from an old spell.
In the quiet, you leaned against him, letting the stillness speak for you both. And though he didn't return the gesture, just like last time, he didn't pull away either. You looked up at the stars, feeling that deep ache for home... He patted your head in a comforting manner... and in that moment you could almost believe he was a friend.
You were just a kid, but even with your naivety, deep down you knew the truth -he was a monster that had killed before and would kill again. Yet for now, he seemed content with your presence, more curious than threatening. He tilted his head, watching you with softness in his gaze, as if pondering the mystery of your existence.
Somewhere in your heart, you felt the shift. Pennywise, the monster, had grown attached to you. And you… well, you couldn't deny the attachment had become mutual.
The days blurred together even more after that, filled with silly games, with quiet moments and fragments of a bond you could neither define nor understand.
And yet, even as you tried to push away the thought, you feared that someday he might wake up and no longer see you as friend, or even as a curiosity, but as something he was hungry for once more. Still, in the quiet of the night it felt like a small, tragic eternity -two beings from worlds apart, drawn together and held by something both tender and terrifying.
The last days in the house at Neibolt St were the strangest. Pennywise grew quiet, almost pensive, as if some hidden clock was winding down inside him. You noticed how his smiles and giggles were fading, as if the game he'd once delighted in was losing its thrill. Sometimes, he would simply watch you with an unreadable expression, his eyes that odd, bright blue that almost felt... sad.
You felt a pang of sympathy for him. For all his power and for all his malevolence, he was still somehow... alone. You had felt it in those strange moments when -almost wistfully- he'd listen to you talk and read.
The last night felt different, filled with an air of finality.
As you laid on your creaky bed, you noticed him standing in the corner of the room, like some sort of sleep paralysis demon. He was staring at you with an intensity that used to scare you three months ago. You felt the impulse to speak, but you knew he wouldn't respond. Instead, you held his gaze, feeling a strange sense of sorrow settle over you.
When he finally spoke, his voice was almost too soft to hear.
"Little one, when you leave…will you forget about me?"
The question caught you off guard and you didn't know how to answer. You wanted to tell him that you wouldn't, that everything you'd been through would be impossible to forget. But Pennywise knew that memories could fade, that as you grew older, the edges of this nightmare would blur.
You just stared at him, searching for the right words.
His eyes held a strange depth, a rawness you hadn't seen before. But he didn't wait for your answer. He simply turned, drifting back into the shadows as he whispered...
"The game isn't over."
And as he vanished, you were left in the cold darkness, with the silence pressing down around you like a final embrace. You clutched your knees to your chest, feeling the weight of those words settle heavily in your heart. You knew that even if you did forget him one day, some part of him would linger -an echo in the back of your mind, a memory that would never truly die.
That night, as sleep began to take you, you imagined him in the backyard... looking up at the stars and wondering if you'd remember.
It really felt like something precious had been taken away from you too early.
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The next morning, you woke up in your own bed, in your home in Witchham Street.
For a moment you thought you'd died... Εveryone around you acted as though you'd never disappeared, as if those harrowing months at Neibolt hadn't happened at all. But there was one particular detail that hinted otherwise... A red balloon, floating silently at the edge of your bed.
That morning, you also got your period for the first time.
Stepping outside, the daylight was so bright and so warm, a stark contrast to the darkness you'd lived in for weeks. You squinted at the light, feeling almost as though you'd stepped into another world. It was hard to believe that just the night before, you had been in his arms -you had been seeking comfort from the monster who had held you captive.
Part of you seriously considered whether it had all been just a dream. Still, for days, you felt his absence like a missing heartbeat.
The world around you seemed much louder and the colors almost too vivid. Sometimes, you'd catch yourself looking for him in the shadows, half expecting to see his shape looming in the corners of your room.
At night you'd lie awake, thinking of his strange question...
"When you leave… will you forget me?"
You didn't know how to answer, even to yourself.
As much as you wanted to return to your old life and to move on from that nightmare, you felt a small part of you ache with the loss. You had lived through something impossible, something that had left you changed.
There was no going back to who you were before.
Over time though, the memory of him faded into something almost surreal. You didn't speak of it to anyone -the words felt fragile and sacred, as if telling the story might diminish it.
But the craziest thing that happened? You continued living as if everything was perfectly normal.
You only thought of Pennywise again that Christmas, in 1979...
The holidays had come to Derry and your family decorated the house with lights and garlands, the scents of pine and cinnamon clinging to every corner. There were gifts under the tree and snow falling outside the windows. Everything was festive and happy.
But when you woke up in your cozy little bedroom -on the 24th-, near the foot of your bed laid a single, crumpled sunflower. It must've been from the patch in the backyard where you'd sometimes sit with him, where the wildflowers had managed to grow despite the gloom. You held it gently, careful not to disturb its fragile petals. It felt like a memento of your time together -a reminder that what you had shared was real, however bizarre and terrifying.
On some nights, when the world was silent, you'd find yourself reaching for that sunflower, feeling the dried petals crumble beneath your fingertips. You'd lie awake, wondering where he was -if he still remembered, if he still waited. And though you'd never say it out loud, a small part of you hoped he did. Because no matter how much time passed, no matter how much you grew or changed, there was one truth you could never deny... He had left his mark on you, a scar that you'd carry forever.
And somewhere out there, you felt certain, Pennywise was waiting.
In the years that followed, you held onto those fleeting memories. They had a strange, magnetic pull -a mix of terror and fascination. You couldn't help but feel that if you let them slip, if you completely forgot, you'd be leaving behind a piece of yourself.
The Losers helped ground you.
They were your anchors to the present, pulling you back to laughter, to familiar faces and to the warmth of friends who shared their own scars and secrets. They never asked about the nightmares that sometimes made you stir, the shadows you occasionally saw out of the corner of your eye. And you never told them.
But there were also moments -quiet and lonely moments- when the weight of it all crept back, haunting you with unspoken questions. You'd wonder if he thought of you, if he missed you in his own twisted way. Did he ever feel the same hollow ache?
And deep down, you even wondered what might happen if he came back. Would he be nice and protecting? Or would he be just as monstrous and alien as before?
On some other nights, when the wind picked up, you swore you could feel his gaze -a distant yet familiar watchfulness that was both comforting and unnerving. It was as though he was still guarding you.
And so you moved forward, feeling the tug of those memories lessen but never fully vanish.
Would he stay away? Or would there come a day when that half-remembered monster with the childlike heart would find his way back to you?
1984 Derry, Maine
You tell yourself you hate Pennywise.
You tell yourself that, because you have to believe it is true, because that's the only way to move on. But deep inside your mind you can still feel him -his question echoing faintly in you, lesser and lesser each year, like a bond stretching thinner and thinner.
Currently, you're pondering over a glass of Cherry Coke. Yesterday, Bill had asked you about your dreams. He wanted to know if the clown that took away his little brother haunted you as well. You had simply shaken your head 'no', but the truth was the complete opposite.
Until you turned fifteen, Pennywise was still in your dreams. You remember those dreams even more vividly than your days in the house on Neibolt St...
You always had a strong imagination, which came with vivid dreams and equally vivid nightmares. In those dreams, Pennywise would come to you whenever you were scared. He'd pull you close in that tender way he never did in reality, fighting off every dark shape in your mind and then wrapping you in a kind of warmth you can't explain with words.
Sometimes, you'd apologize to him in those dreams -feeling an unnamed guilt- and he'd boop your nose with a soft and soothing "It's okie-dokie, Y/n."
Sometimes there'd be a red balloon waiting by your bed when you woke up, or maybe floating outside your school window. And on one specific evening, when the sadness felt like too much to bear, he appeared at the edge of your bed instead of the balloon. He hugged you and stayed with you until morning came, his glowing eyes softly illuminating the darkness. For once, they didn't scare you.
But as you grew up, you began to dream of him differently. In the nightmares, he'd chase you with a crooked smile and eyes that were dark with hunger, until you couldn't run anymore. Then you'd turn, tears streaming down your face, pleading with him and saying you were sorry over and over. You could never remember why you were sorry, but you knew that somewhere deep inside... you had hurt him. And somehow, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was you who'd let him down.
You tried to explain this to him, even though it was only in dreams -your Penny, who had watched over you. But he still seemed sad. So the dreams began to fade and he stopped showing himself altogether. Even then, you could still feel his presence, as if he was looking over you but choosing to stay hidden.
The few glimpses you have left are rather strange. Once, you had a dream with an uncanny intensity. It was the first different kind of dream -a dream where Pennywise was there as well, but puzzled, as you began to see him through a different lens. It left you feeling unsettled. Not sure what it meant, only that it somehow changed everything.
And still, each time you're scared, you call out for him in your dreams. You search, even while knowing he won't appear like he used to. Maybe it's because you had once blurted out that he was a killer, that he took innocent people like Georgie. It's all so blurry now, all these things you can't quite remember but can't entirely forget either.
You miss him.
You know Georgie's disappearance and so many others are somehow linked to that clown. But if his pattern is to stay on Earth for a year and hibernate for two decades (like Ben figured out), why then, hasn't he gone to sleep in five? It's almost as though he can't bring himself to leave.
Maybe you are asking too many questions. Or maybe you are starting to find the answers...
You're just a girl. And he… he's a boy in a strange, unfathomable way.
There are times when you think he's gone for good. But then there are other times -like when Oscar, the thick orange cat you've taken to caring for, curls up by you in a way that feels just a little too familiar. His stare, intense and watchful, feels more like an any ordinary cat.
You call him Oscar, but maybe -just maybe- you know it's him.
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masterpost☁️
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child0feden · 6 months ago
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STITCHIN’ UP MY HEART
max verstappen x cosplayer! youtuber! reader
♡ general dating headcanons for max with a cosplayer partner!
୨୧ i’m so crazy excited for lollipop chainsaw repop so you know i just had to include a cosplay of my favourite girl ever, juliet starling! i really hope you guys are liking the headcanons so far, i’m actually finding them easier to work with than smau <3
♡ view my formula 1 masterlist here
reading music recommendations: superhero by hiroaki takahashi - everglow by shift up - snake eater by cynthia harrell
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♡ you guys met after he stumbles across one of your videos on youtube!
୨୧ he knows what cosplaying is, obviously, and though he’d never really looked into it that much before there’s just something about your face in the thumbnail and the beautiful smile on your face that makes him click on it…
♡ he watched it all the way through <3
୨୧ he thought you were one of the most creative and passionate people he’d ever came across on the web and loved how softly you explained things to the viewer, speaking into the camera as if he was really there next to you and you’d been friends for years
♡ your videos very quickly became a source of comfort for max, he felt like you were such a well meaning soul and just loved your voice
୨୧ eventually, he gets the courage to send you a message on social media, professing his love for your videos and how passionate you are, offering you a vip paddock pass if you’d ever like to come to a race and chat with him
♡ to say you’re confused would be an understatement… who is this verified guy in your messages? f1? i mean, you know a little about it like how a lot of people watch it and it’s people driving fast cars but you don’t watch it
୨୧ but max’s message is just so sweet and heartfelt, you almost can’t believe it came from someone as famous as him… you thought most famous people were supposed to be snobby?
♡ eventually, you message him back! extending your gratitude for his viewership and kind words, making sure he knows how much they mean to you and you agree to visit the paddock, mainly just to have a conversation with max as you’re now enamoured with how sweet he is
୨୧ max practically screams in happiness when you accept his offer, already thinking over how he’ll greet you in person, and sends all the details over to you
♡ when the day to meet finally comes, you dress casual, not really knowing ( or caring ) about the “ right ” way to dress for an f1 race
୨୧ when you meet him, he’s surprisingly a little shy! having watched your videos, now seeing you in person for the first time, it feels like the roles are reversed, it feels like he’s not famous at all, just an awestruck guy meeting a celebrity
♡ you guys have a casual chat over some hot drinks in the paddock, conversation flowing smoothly and peacefully… yeah… you think this is nice… you think he’s nice… you could get used to this
୨୧ little do you know he’s thinking the same <3
♡ eventually, you have to leave but not before making sure he has your number to call you later, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek and bidding him a thank you and goodbye
୨୧ he didn’t want to wash that cheek for a week…
♡ fast forward like, two years and many dates later anddd you’ve been dating for a year and a couple months
୨୧ he’s absolutely your #1 fan, your biggest cheerleader
♡ you make almost all of your costumes by hand, purchasing fabrics and stitching it all
୨୧ so whenever max is out without you and sees some fabric he thinks you’d find useful, he’ll always buy it for you!
♡ sometimes you stream some progress of making your costume and there are SO many fan favourite moments of max popping in and out of the room to check on you
୨୧ him coming to give you some snacks and a drink ( usually a red bull ), asking how the costume is coming along, getting jimmy and sassy out of the room because they keep playing with the threads… even sometimes popping in just for a quick kiss which fans especially love
“ it’s looking good so far liefde, when do you think you’ll be finished with it? ” ( he just admires you with soft eyes and a smile as you tell him how many more days you think it’ll take to be done )
♡ he loves showing people on the grid your latest cosplay photoshoots! he’s like a proud mother, holding his phone up to engineers and other drivers so they can see and telling them all about how long it took you to craft the costume
୨୧ but they don’t mind, max is the happiest they’ve ever seen him with you and some of the drivers ( most of them ) actually think your cosplays are awesome, especially lando! he asks max to pass on recommendations of future cosplays to you and whenever you’re there with max, you and lando are non stop talk machines…
♡ his absolute favourite characters for you to cosplay are really badass girls, he thinks you look especially good in those and your personality fits them so well
୨୧ but he also thinks it’s so fucking cool when you cosplay male characters, keeping your hair the same and just slightly gender-bending the character
♡ one time you cosplayed as john marston from red dead redemption and it just completely rerouted his brain wiring… you think he might have a thing for outlaws now
୨୧ well honestly, you being a cosplayer introduced him to a lot of new attractions that he’d never think of himself having…
♡ when i say he was gagged when you cosplayed as lady dimitrescu from resident evil village, i mean he was fucking gagged
୨୧ he couldn’t get over it, when you walked out of your closet after putting on the costume he was slack jawed for at least two minutes! he almost didn’t want anyone else seeing this one because it just did something so special for him
♡ and don’t even get me started on the time you cosplayed dixie clemets from rumble roses…
୨୧ have you cosplayed aphrodite from god of war III just for max’s eyes before and it ended in your bodies being tangled in the sheets your shared bed, soft lips meeting in a dance of deep love and hushed sounds of pleasure filling the room?
♡ yes, yes you have…
୨୧ and obviously you don’t just cosplay characters because they look cool, you’re a huge gamer and are actually knowledgeable on the characters you’re cosplaying
♡ he absolutely loves when you go on rambles about the character you’re cosplaying! it mainly happens while you’re crafting the costume, you’ll go into a spiel about why this character is so damn good and he’ll just stare at you with his lips turned up in a smile and this look of pure adoration in his eyes ( which is sometimes captured on stream )
୨୧ often times you play games cuddled up on the couch together and he’ll point out characters he thinks would make a great cosplay
“ oh, look at her liefde! that design is pretty, no? i think you’d look pretty in that… ” ( he thinks you’d look pretty in a potato sack )
♡ obviously max streams racing games and what not but you actually get max into playing story games too!
୨୧ though he likes to keep those reserved for just the two of you, very rarely streaming them
♡ one of his favourite types of games to play with you are couch co-op games! brothers: a tale of two sons, unravel, it takes two, overcooked
୨୧ and of course, moving out… oh boy, that game has you guys either laughing so hard and giving yourself stitches or yelling at each other so loud about just going in the right damn direction
“ no! not that way liefde! oh my god, over here, please just come over here and help me with this ” ( you’re never actually angry of course, soft chuckles constantly slipping out in between yells )
♡ whenever you cosplay a character that requires a lot of make-up, he’s always right there waiting for you when you’re done with a make-up wipe in hand, gently helping you remove it all
୨୧ he really helps out a lot with stuff! whatever you need, he’ll try and help… holding down two pieces of fabric while you stitch them together? he’s on it! searching for a very particular patterned fabric? he’ll be looking at online stores every spare second he has! he says it feels good to help you
♡ and what a good helper he is…
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yncosplays: this month’s cosplays so far! the latest being my favourite girl, juliet starling ( and a special someone’s head as nick ) this is my favourite one so far… watch how i made it here!
maxynforever: is that max’s head… ?
> f1lover: oh my god, it is 😭
maxverstappen ✔️: beautiful as always liefde! i’m always blown away by your talent to craft these costumes… though i must ask, was making a replica of my head to hang off your hip absolutely necessary?
> yncosplays: yes, yes it was <3
maxverstrapon: i don’t know wether to be impressed or slightly freaked out about seeing a replica of max’s head on her hip…
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randomciabatta724 · 6 months ago
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Some Polites headcanons because they're good for the soul.
Note: these are a mix of details from the musical I wanted to expand on, stuff I've read from other posts, and things I randomly came up with.
He was in the frontlines (or at least near them) during the Trojan war. Not because he wanted to fight, he just thought "if I have to join the battle, I'll at least shield those behind me". I took this from Survive, because he had to be pretty close to Polyphemus to be the first one hit by the club.
Self sacrificial. Very self sacrificial. Would die for the crew, especially for Odysseus and Eurylochus.
Loves dates. Either on their own or with honey. I don't know why, he just gives me the vibe.
Had night terrors both during and after the war. Either nightmares about the people he killed (let's face it, you don't come out of a 10 year war without getting blood on your hands) or his friends dying in battle. Never explicitly told anyone, but he would stay with his friends a little longer the morning after. Also picked a lot more night watch turns as a result, just to get his mind off of things.
Bruises/gets injured extremely easily, and doesn't notice/care. Especially if someone else is hurt too. "Are you alright?" asks Polites to another soldier while coughing up blood.
Also very durable, somehow. That's why Polyphemus had to hit him twice/j.
Myopic king. The glasses are a gift from Athena, because she was like "I think you're a soft-hearted fool, but I'll be damned if you embarrass my Warrior of the Mind because you can't see beyond the bridge of your nose".
The type of person to keep eating horrible/possibly poisoned food just to not offend the person who prepared it. Odysseus had to smack the lotus out of his hand because he would have still taken a bite to not make the lotus eaters upset (he brought some with him anyway, that's where Odysseus got the lotuses to put in the wine).
Many have already said this, he's the therapist friend before therapy was invented.
Gives the best hugs.
Taller than Odysseus but shorter than Eurylochus (Odysseus reaches Polites' chest, Polites reaches Eurylochus' nose).
Apologises when he bumps into furniture. It's a reflex, he doesn't notice he does it. It's a remnant of his pre-glasses days, when he couldn't distinguish a person from a vase.
The ancient Greek equivalent of a Godfather to Telemachus.
Extremely trusting, sometimes a little too much (fun fact: in the Odyssey he's like the first one to enter Circe's palace).
Very forgiving. He gives second, third, even fourth chances like it's nothing, no matter how badly someone hurts him. You have to be pretty forgiving to still think about greeting the world with open arms after being clubbed to death. (Note: this does not apply to his friends getting hurt).
When he takes off his bandana, his curls reach his shoulders and cover his left eye, and it gives him a whole different vibe. He still radiates warmth, but it's not the same. Kinda like the sun at noon and the sun at dusk. The second is still warm and welcoming, but dimmer, softer, maybe a little darker. People have mistaken him for someone else because of this.
Super heavy sleeper. One time when they were younger, Odysseus and Eurylochus decided to try and wake him up by making the most noise possible. They did not succeed.
His first kiss was Eurylochus while Odysseus was away in Sparta to court Penelope.
One time, someone tried to rob him. The guy was like "Give me your money!" and Polites was like "Oh dear, look at you, of course I'll give you my money, you look like you really need it. Also, why don't you come to my house so I can give you some food and clean clothes?". The thief was so ashamed of himself he ran away.
He befriended Charon in the Underworld.
You know the plague that Apollo sent during the Iliad? He may or may not have gotten it, I haven't decided yet.
Considering that in epic the sirens have the ability to shapeshift into loved ones, there was definitely a siren Polites somewhere during Suffering/Different Beast.
He's generally a very calm person, the only thing that really gets him angry is when his friends get hurt. And when he's angry, he's not someone to mess with. He can and will kick ass. And the thing that rubs salt in the wound is that if you get beat up by Polites, it's almost certainly your fault, because Polites isn't the kind of person that goes around randomly beating people up. And very few people wish to carry the title "The person who got beat up by Polites".
SPOILERS AHEAD!!!
The last headcanon is something I've also based a scenario on. Basically, after Odysseus kills the suitors, they go to the Underworld. Most of them are still shaken up by the whole thing, which is understandable, getting shot by an enemy you can't see while unarmed in the dark is not fun, but not Antinous. Antinous is pissed. And so he rallies up the other suitors, he gives a whole speech where he basically says they can get revenge on Odysseus once he joins them there and also reveals all the shit they did while he was gone. And Polites is like, talking to Eurylochus or something, when he overhears. And so he goes to give Antinous the beating of his life because you do **not** disrespect his best friend and his family like that. And the suitors+Eurylochus are watching from a corner, with the suitors getting even more scared.
That's it. Nothing more :)
I know Eurylochus is married to Ctimene but I SHIP HIM AND POLITES SO BAD AAAAAAAAHHHHHH
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suhnandmoon · 6 months ago
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soul eater
weapon!park jisung x meister!reader
genre: soul eater au, best friends to lovers, angst w/ happy ending, fantasy, college-ish au (kinda. read info)
wc: 8.5k
info to know: heavily inspired by the anime soul eater. you don’t need to have watched soul eater to get the concept because i try to explain what i can. something i don’t explain but should be known is that weapons will grow stronger when they consume the souls of a kishin egg (a soul that has become corrupt). to soul eater fans: the werewolf in this fic is a kishin egg but for the sake of minimizing confusion with the term ‘egg’ being mistaken as a literal egg, ill often call it just a kishin. last thing! you can read this as a college or highschool au. honestly i wrote this as a combination of them both as in they start the academy when they’re 16 and graduate four years later. it doesn’t matter how you see it.
additional author’s notes: hii guys i’m back with this for you guys. take it as my apology for leaving you guys hanging with my minecraft boyfriend. this is my first full length fic so please be kind T_T there may be issues with grammar because i’m posting this before i chicken out of never sharing this to the world
-
with his shoulders hunched, eyes shifting across the room, and the overall appearance of a sopping wet cat, the last person left was indeed your partner- though you had double checked his name tag a few times, hoping this was a joke.
-
when you start at death meister academy, it's a rare occurrence for a student to find their pair immediately. weapons and meisters alike often spend the first month looking for the most compatible partner. 
compatibility heavily relies on the wavelengths of both individuals. if your souls are able to harmonize on the same frequency, that’s a sign you are suited to pair up. should a meister have a higher wavelength frequency than their weapon, either party could get greatly injured and vice versa.
to make things easier, many students opt to take a compatibility test issued by the school to be automatically paired up with the best fit for them. 
you personally deemed this as the only way fit to receive your weapon. if you were going to graduate as an elite ranked scythe-meister after your four years at the academy, you needed the best possible weapon for you; as determined by the statistics of the test. all meisters are categorized by rank: it scales from one to three stars from with select meisters promoting to elite if they prove themselves fit. all first years start at one star. typically it’s most common to see meisters graduating at a two or three star rank, but it’s not impossible to reach elite by the end of their time at the academy. and that's exactly what you’re going to do.
so imagine your initial shock when you were paired up with poor little park jisung. 
upon receiving the results, everyone grouped off with their partners. your eyes scanned the room for someone wearing the name tag ‘park jisung’ 
no one approached you for a few minutes as you searched so you decided to let the room clear out and see who was left. 
with his shoulders hunched, eyes shifting across the room, and the overall appearance of a sopping wet cat, the last person left was indeed your partner- though you had double checked his name tag a few times, hoping this was a joke. you had to prod the timid little demon weapon into introducing himself, earning only a shy mumble in response. it was hard to believe he was the weapon you were paired up with. the only indication of his status as a scythe would probably be his height- which let him tower above the rest of the class even with his slumped posture. 
you debated on the spot if you should just find a different weapon, not sure if this pairing was entirely the best for your four-year plan. yet, you at least had an ounce of guilt for leaving him behind and faith in the wavelength statistics for this to work out.
after your introductions, you laid out your intentions and planned path for your time at the death meister academy: collect 99 souls and one soul of a witch to successfully ascend your weapon into ‘death weapon status’, reach the elite-meister status for yourself, and finally, graduate top of the class. simple really.
it must be something about the way you said it so confidently that had jisung looking at you with a mixture of admiration and fear, but you received a gulp in response.
you were about to tell him flat out that, if it didn’t seem plausible for him, he’d have to find another meister when he beat you by saying a quiet, “i’ll do it.”
and in a rare moment, a peer of yours didn’t outright laugh in your face for expressing your goals.
you struck out your hand, signaling him to shake yours, beaming at the boy. he softly takes your offer and grasps your hand.
“well then, nice to meet you, partner!”
-
the next few years went exactly as you hoped they would
well, nearly exactly. it did take jisung a good three months to work up the courage to eat his first soul. which in turn, brought three months of stress to you. but he got over that quickly.
your initial first impression of jisung was proven wrong after some time, seeing as how the two of you were almost always able to synchronize your wavelengths in battle.
you both take pride in being the first in your class to perform soul resonance, a fundamental skill for a weapon and a meister to achieve with their partner. many first years struggle with the concept of matching your frequency to someone else so accurately that it resonates. it takes most students the entire unit to perform one successful hit, some even take years. you two nailed it the second it was taught.
after three years at the academy, you and jisung have gotten to know each other better than you know yourselves. its typical for a weapon and meister to share some sort of deep connection, but you’ve always felt like you two exceed that standard in some way.
and here you both are, strewn across your shared couch with your legs across his lap as he sits on the other end, watching whatever's on the channel. you’re sprawled across the couch, revising your notes for the last time before you call it a night and watch with jisung.
“peach ring?” jisung asks as you absentmindedly reach in the bag to hand him one, eyes not once lifting off the pages of handwritten notes for your soul studies class. he takes it from your grasp and tosses it in his mouth, a hum of gratitude following the action.
jisung, over the years, has come out of his shell significantly from that first day you met him. you aren’t aware of it, but he owes a lot of it to you- from your contagious drive for success to your ability to believe in him wholeheartedly. he’s honestly still grateful you hadn’t dropped him the day you met. he still shudders at the memory of the day he ate his first soul, you comforting his hunched over form on the ground as he cried for an hour or two. that’s something that you both are taking to the grave with you.
he looks over to you, your brows furrowed as you mouth the words on your page in an effort to memorize the material, he finds your concentration to be quite cute.
“you almost done? its getting late. plus- its just soul studies,” jisung shrugs with a lazy smile, “last time i checked, we still have the highest resonance success rate. i think we know souls pretty well.”
you scoff at his answer, finally tearing your eyes away from the stack of papers and onto him- which was really his goal from the beginning.
“you and i know damn well that soul studies isn’t reliant on who can match their partner’s frequencies the best. its about the essence of souls.” you lecture lightheartedly and he takes the opportunity to reach over and pull the notes out of your grasp. 
“well if you know so much about it, it wouldn't kill you to take a break,” he places your notes on the coffee table as you weigh the pros and cons. its getting late, so you know if you take a break, you wouldn’t return to your studying but you also didn’t have the energy to argue with jisung either. taking the selfish route, you give in and reposition yourself so you’re sitting side by side with him.
an hour passes and the both of you knock out on the couch. you’re the first to drift off and jisung just doesn’t have the heart to wake you up by moving you off his shoulder so he decides he can just close his eyes for a few minutes…
well! 
it wasn’t a few minutes
more like a few minutes over the time you were both supposed to leave the house for class the next morning.
an unfamiliar feeling wakes you up that morning, half of your body on top of jisung and his arm lazily wrapped around your waist. before you can even process the position, you’re already jumping off the couch and frantically getting ready. you were supposed to leave the dorm five minutes ago
“-jisung! we’re so late! god. oh my god!” your fading voice as you run to the bathroom is the first thing your roommate hears when he wakes up. he groggily rises, rubbing at his eyes as he watches you run around your shared living space yelling in a frenzy. he would never tell you but he finds the ordeal to be endearing. he allows himself watch you for just half a second before he gets up to brush his teeth to avoid being on the receiving end of your curses.
you get ready in record time, cutting down your usual thirty minutes to a whole 4:37; albeit several steps were skipped in the process. as you frantically tie your shoelaces, jisung strolls next to you with two granola bars in hand. his morning routine is always less involved than yours so its no surprised he took like two seconds to get ready.
he can’t even hand the bar to you as you’re already dragging him out by his wrist.
by some miracle, you manage to make it to your soul studies class one minute before it began. you rush to your seat in the lecture hall and jisung follows behind, clearly not as worried about missing the test as you are.
you miss the raised eyebrow and shit eating grin that chenle sends jisung, causing the tips of his ears to turn pink. 
both of you walking in together late, jisung’s hair sticking up from sleeping on the couch weird, and the lack of sleep evident on your faces may not mean anything separately, but jisung was well aware of the implication chenle’s thinking of. he’s sure as hell lucky that you’re too focused on the exam to notice.
the next thirty minutes breeze by. you finish up your test half an hour in so, technically, you’re free to turn it in and leave for your next class but you always wait for jisung so you can exit together. it takes another ten minutes of doodling on your exam and picking at your eraser for him to wrap it up.
the two of you walk to the front of the lecture hall, dropping the tests off at your professor’s desk and walking out the door. zhong chenle is quick to follow you both out. you assume he was also waiting for jisung to finish his test, presumably to walk out with you both as well.
“hey you two~ had fun last night?” he teases you abruptly as he jogs to catch up to your pace. the three of you walk down the corridor as his voice echos down the halls.
“fun? studying for that test? certainly not-” you respond with your brows furrowed, not catching chenle’s implication as the classroom disappears in the distance.
zhong chenle, as much as he is a little shit, is jisung’s best friend and gun-meister to his own weapon. he also happens to be he son of lord death, the reaper who founded the school and the one in charge of all of meister/weapon affairs. he acts as a headmaster of sorts. you interact with him frequently, as you and jisung are always getting assigned missions issued by the reaper himself.
jisung sputters a cough in an awkward attempt to seem nonchalant about this situation, “don’t be an idiot, chenle. we were studying for the test last night and fell asleep on the couch.” he slaps the back of his friend’s head and you finally catch on.
you suddenly remember waking up in jisung’s arms and how it felt so… right. is it really so natural of a conclusion to think you two are sleeping together? that was seriously chenle’s first assumption? the very thought plagues your mind
you need to purge it immediately, fearing the imbalance of your emotions for jisung will fluctuate your wavelength levels. 
you brush off chenle’s allegation and he scurries away to his next class. you wrap your arms around yourself subconsciously as you both continue to your next class, purposely ignoring the previous conversation floating in your minds.
-
it’s around the evening when you and jisung get called in to ‘the death room’. really, its just lord death’s domain where he observes the outside world from his mirrors. 
you approach the man, who’s appearance as the ‘grim reaper’ takes much more of a whimsical approach rather than intimidating. he’s larger than life in both size and personality and his mask toes the line of a cartoonish feel. his appearance contrasts the vast liminal space he resides in. it's an expansive graveyard with a circular platform in the center where his full body mirrors reside. this is how you all exit in and out of the space. though the space itself is unsettling, you always find interacting with him to be fairly easy. maybe your friendship with his son benefits that but you also like to believe your own skill is a testament of how you earned his respect. 
“yn and jisung! perfect timing. i have a bit of difficult mission for you two~” 
lord death’s sing-songy voice is the first thing you hear as you step through the mirror and into his domain. your hand rests on jisungs arm to stabilize yourself before you both bow to the reaper.
“stress levels have gone up around the south outskirts of the city. we aren’t sure of the threat level- an estimate would be rank three kishin egg but don’t get too comfortable,” lord death explains the mission and you’re concealing the grin that threatens to spill from your mouth, “this should be the perfect assignment for the two of you. yn, i trust you know your promotion to elite is being considered. don’t disappoint me.”
you return his sentiment with a firm nod and pat to jisung’s back. he subconsciously straightens his posture when you reply, “no need to worry, lord death. we’ll get this done in no time!”
“thank you both, see you back soon!”
and with that, the reaper gestures towards the large mirror you entered from. this time, it reflects your next destination. you can see civilians running away from the scene, personal belongings strewn across the ground, and what looks like to be a werewolf kishin. its long legs reach the floor on all fours and its about double the size of the houses around it. you watch as its hollow, white eyes survey the upcoming area for its next victim with a notable hunch in its back. 
so this is your target, you observe. looks easy enough
jisung’s hand on your shoulder stops you from charging in without him. you pause for a moment to make sure he’s as ready as you are and once you get that confirmation, you’re hopping through the mirror without hesitation.
-
the growl of the beast before you is terrifying enough to send chills through anyone’s spine. except the fast heartbeat in your chest isn’t derived from anxiety, rather excitement instead. you know lord death is observing your every move in this mission specifically so this is your chance to put on a show; to prove that you’re able to handle elite ranked missions.
before the kishin notices you, jisung snakes an arm around your waist, getting ready to transform.. 
suddenly, you get the worst timed flashback of your life. visions of this morning flash across in your brain and then to chenle’s accusation. you grip the transformed scythe of a partner in your hands tightly to push the unwelcome intrusions out of your mind.
goddammit. you couldn’t be losing focus now.
“everything alright?” you hear jisung’s voice echo out of the scythe as well as a roar in the distance. you know he can feel your grip on the weapon’s handle but you’ve already been noticed by the kishin to respond.
you swing your scythe away from your body, so the blade scrapes the dirt underneath you. you run toward the angry beast, not even bothering to reply to jisung. the only thing you should be thinking about is reaching the beast.
you take your first swing at the kishin, which it narrowly avoids. you only manage to shave off the ends of its dark fur. immediately after, its paw swipes at your midsection. you manage to jump up and use the arm under you as a platform to take another leap onto its back. you’re almost moving on autopilot, you’ve battled creatures like this countless times already- yet the thought plaguing your entire being creeps in the back of your mind. it bothers you but there’s nothing you can do about it at this moment. you curse yourself for being so immature for thinking about a stupid crush in the middle of a fight.
you position yourself so that you’re straddling the werewolf while it thrashes around in an attempt to throw you off its back.
“jisung!” you call out to your partner, scythe in the air and ready to plunge into the neck of the monster, “soul resonance!”
your blade cuts deeply into the side of the kishin’s neck, but nothing happens. no blinding light, no dissipation of the beast below you, and certainly no soul resonance performed.
the shock of you not being able to complete this move for the first time in your career as a duo allows the werewolf to send you flying off its back. you’re thrown off into the dirt, jisung having transformed mid-throw to soften the fall. he has you in an embrace to minimize your impact since you can’t even react
you can only sit there, shell shocked.
there has never been a time where the two of you have failed to perform soul resonance. and now, when you need it the most- when lord death is watching your every move closely for your promotion, you stupidly fail the easiest skill you could’ve showcased.
it takes one excruciatingly long minute to realize jisung has been shaking your shoulders yelling for you to snap out of it.
“yn!! yn!! are you okay??” the pure amount of concern in his eyes is enough to get you to push yourself off your feet. you ignore the searing pain in your right arm and grab jisung with your left, wordlessly. he gets the memo and gets back into form. you’re gonna have to do this the hard way.
it takes longer than you would’ve liked, but you eventually manage to find an opening to the kishin’s heart and strike it down, revealing its glowing red soul as the body dissipates. jisung shifts back to his normal form so he can grab the egg-shaped soul and swallow it down.
he’s fast with his actions so he can run back to you to check on you. you start walking the opposite direction, not being able to stomach your terrible performance. you can’t even look at him.
“yn! are you okay? please say something.” he pleads, grabbing your forearms so you’re forced to face him. you wince and retract your right arm but you don’t make an effort to turn away again. you fight the tears forming in your eyes and avoid his prying gaze, knowing that any attempt you would make to speak would croak out pathetically.
“i- i’m sorry. i’m so sorry” those are the only words you can say before jisung is pulling you into an embrace.
“you didn’t do anything wrong,” he hushes your sobs, stroking the back of your head. there's a strange nostalgia about this scene. it's fairly reminiscent of the year you and jisung first met, except your positions have swapped. last time it was you comforting a crying jisung for being too ashamed over his fear of soul consumption. 
you hate how small you feel in this moment, but there's one last sliver of selfishness in you that lets you enjoy the feeling of his arms around you.
“this wasn’t your fault. don’t blame yourself,” he reminds you, though you don’t believe his words. at the end of the day, you couldn’t perform soul resonance because your wavelengths didn’t align. you had been distracted during that fight. your feelings for jisung are throwing off your wavelength levels. 
“thank you, jisung”
he hears your tone and knows you well enough to know you don’t believe him. he doesn’t comment on it but it makes him sad to hear you like this. he doesn’t voice his thoughts.
“are you ready to go back to lord death?” he asks tentatively and the thought makes you completely nauseous. you’re sure you absolutely ruined your reputation in front of him but you also remind yourself that he’s probably watching you wallow in your own pity right now through his ornate mirrors.
you suck it up and give your partner the okay to keep going. he walks toward a large storefront window in the damaged city, cups his hands over the glass while letting out an exhale to fog up the surface, and writes down the numerical code engrained in all of your minds: 42-42-564. if you ever wanted to knock on death’s door. the quickest way to contact lord death himself.
the glass window soon turns into the scene of lord death’s space. you see him waiting on the other side and your stomach twists in anxiety. the both of you step through the storefront display and end up back in the graveyard.
-
you’re about to bow your head and profusely apologize but the reaper speaks up first, breaking the silence.
“yn,” his tone is sincere, yet you can’t quite place how he truly feels, “don’t apologize to me. i don’t want to hear it.” 
you thought your heart was already at your feet, but it somehow plummeted six feet under. jisung wants to stand by your side but ultimately takes a few steps back to give this conversation some space 
“is there something going on in your personal life that i should consider?”
your mouth goes dry and you attempt to respond but you can only muster up the strength to shake your head. lord death strides up to you and in that moment you think everything you ever worked for is going to crumble in front of you.
“hey, i’m not about to punish you. you’re one of the academy’s most dedicated meisters, i obviously know that whatever happened with your soul resonance was the first time that happened in all your years here, which is impressive in itself. and aside from that, you wrapped up the fight without resonating very professionally. don’t beat yourself up about this battle.”
this is too much. you’re starting to feel a little lightheaded at the rollercoaster of emotions you’re feeling. one moment you are terrified out of your mind that you let lord death down.. the next, he’s.. praising you?
“but- the promotion!” you sputter out.
“you’re exceptionally hard on yourself, yn. and i think it benefits your work ethic greatly at times, but it also pulls you down. you need to take care of yourself. i’ll look the other way when it comes to this assignment if you take a week break. a good meister knows how to balance every aspect of their lives. figure out what is causing both of your wavelengths to not resonate, i’ll work things out with your professors.”
your eyes widen at the compromise and you thank lord death for his empathy.
“thank you, lord death. i promise i won’t let you down.”
-
the walk back to your shared dorm is mostly quiet. you had just wrapped up your conversation with lord death and stopped at the infirmary for your arm. it had dislocated during the battle but luckily the healing process was supernaturally sped up thanks to the nurses working at the academy. 
there's an unspoken tension between you and jisung with both of you knowing you weren’t on the same page in terms of wavelength. this is something that has never been an issue for the two of you. you wouldn't blame him if he felt like he was walking next to an unfamiliar person. 
jisung, on the other hand, is stuck wondering what happened. there was something so clearly bothering you, so why couldn’t you tell him? his mind is desperately grasping for solutions to help pull you out of this but he’s not even sure if you’ll allow him.
if anyone could see the both of you walking together, you’re sure they’d be looking two large, grey clouds above your heads, both equipped with a torrent of pouring rain.
the jingle of your keys breaks the silence between you as you unlock the front door. in the midst of kicking off your shoes, jisung urges you to stay put. you watch him shuffle off into the kitchen before returning with a tub of ice cream and two spoons. there's a shy smile on his face, hoping that this will at least improve your mood ever so slightly. theres a twist in your heart to see him looking out for you like this but you also feel a sense of guilt for letting your feelings get in the way of his own accomplishments as a weapon. 
“thank you jisung” you take the carton from him with a small smile and move over to the couch. he sits opposite of your injured arm, though its pretty much healed up at this point. he’s still mindful. the regeneration magic used on it cut down your recovery time greatly. it only really feels sore now but jisung doesn’t take any chances.
you let yourself cozy up into his side as he scrolls for something to watch. the scene is similar from the night before. you weren’t exactly sure when you started blurring the lines beyond what would be considered normal for a ‘friendship’ but none of you have ever bothered to correct this behavior.
when he finally finds something to watch, jisung leans back and starts taking spoonfuls out of the tub of ice cream situated on your lap. you look up at the television lights illuminating his features, taking a mental image of the scene so you don’t get caught staring. its a scene you’ve probably seen thousands of times, yet the more you see him like this, the more flustered it makes you.
god. you’re fucking up your wavelength by the minute, you’re absolutely sure of it.
-
you’ve never liked the sight of the training grounds. it reminds you of the excruciating hours you’ve spent over the past few years practicing and training to get to the point where lord death deemed you strong enough to take on assignments. you typically opt for taking on lower ranked missions if you and jisung ever need to get some practice in. at least there, the targets actually fight back.
patience was never a virtue for you- clearly.
“we were asked to spend everyday together to work out our connection” jisung recites the instructions given to you guys by lord death after he granted you a week long break.
“oh, what a difficult task..” you retort sarcastically. you don’t think there's been a day where you haven’t spent a single moment without him, “hey, do you think if we can fix our connection this weekend, we can go back to class this week?”
jisung deadpans, “lord death gave us a ‘get out of jail free card’ with a whole week off of class and you want to throw that away?”
“come onn, we’re missing so much! when we get back, we’re not gonna know anything thats going on in any of our classes!” 
“i already don’t know whats going on and you’ve probably studied up until the next month’s worth of academic content. we’ll be fine,” he states factually. he honestly can’t be surprised that you’re already itching to get back to work, “plus, this break is for you to get a better grasp of work-life balance. you need this week off.” he pleads with you to concede. most of his intent is for you to take it easy on yourself, but the week off from class definitely was a perk.
you kick the dirt of the training grounds and mutter an, “i guess, i guess”
jisung grabs your waist and the transformation happens as always. you stand there holding your scythe perpendicular to your body behind you with the blade’s tip facing the ground. your left arm is extended out to the side as it holds the base while your right rests on your hip.
you toss him up into the air, the weapon twirling in circles before you grab him and hit the wooden training dummy. you give him a few experimental swings before you close your eyes and focus on what you two are really here for.
you got this.
“soul resonance!” you say, voice lacking your usual confidence. and as expected, nothing happens. you squeeze the handle in frustration as if swinging harder would magically fix your problems.
“don’t think about it too much. relax. its just me and you” you hear his voice call out.
its just me and you. your heart patters with anxiety. that’s probably the one thing you didn’t need to hear. me and you
how are you failing miserably at this when its always been you two?
you try again. and again. you’re making repeated attempts, only getting close to resonating once. that one managed to make a larger dent in the training dummy, but it was absolutely nothing you were used to.
you lost count at the embarrassing amount of failed attempts you’ve gone through. around an hour and a half passes. 
most of your hits end up just being hacks into the dummy to release your frustration. you almost go in for another hit when jisung transforms back. he’s sweating and he grabs for your wrist to keep you from going further.”
“that’s enough. let’s take a break for now.” 
and in your frustration, you scoff to yourself. a break, huh? that’s what you’re on right now. moved to a hiatus until you can get your shit together. you don’t voice your annoyance when you glance over at your worn out partner. he wipes the back of his hand against his forehead, displacing the sweat sticking to his bangs. guilt creeps up on you for pushing him through this with you and you imagine you probably look in worse shape than he does.
“alright.. lunch?” you breath out and he gives you a lopsided smile.
“sounds perfect” he tosses your water bottle to you as you make your way off the field. your feet don’t feel as heavy anymore as you two walk away.
-
“there’s no way he actually did that!” you cover your mouth to stifle your laughter.
the two of you are seated inside a nearby cafe across campus. the sun shines through the window you’re seated by but the a/c is doing wonders after your miserable training session. you take slow sips at your iced latte as jisung tells his story.
“no- because i heard it was so bad. the whole class went silent after,” jisung recounts what chenle shared to him about your friend mark. apparently, the alumni was invited back to help first years with their soul resonance unit and ended up embarrassing himself with some speech he wrote the night before. safe to say, he probably isn’t going to show his face ever again after his weapon had to drag him out of the classroom out of pure humiliation. 
you continue laughing, missing the way jisung relishes in your joy. he tries to cover his smile by taking a bite of the pastry he bought while averting his eyes but jisung has never been known to be discreet.
“our training today might’ve been rough, but at least we aren’t first years running off of mark’s advice” your giggle even though referencing the prior event provides a momentary reality check.
jisung notices the shift and dares to ask about it. afterall, you haven’t directly discussed what's causing this disruption. 
he’s been avoiding it, patiently waiting for you to confide in him. but as hours go on, he’s unsure it will ever be brought up.
“do you.. want to talk about it?” hesitance is laced in his tone. you keep the smile on your face when you reply.
“i- well,” you don’t feel ready to confront him with what’s been haunting you. you could never outright say ‘hey! i think our wavelengths don’t match because i’m stuck with this deep, festering crush on you and you don’t at all!’ 
so you lie
“i really don’t know whats going on.. maybe its just extra stress? before we went into that fight i was distracted over the fact lord death was watching..”
you curse your weak attempt at an excuse the second it comes out of your mouth, praying that jisung doesn’t point out that you were jumping into the fight headfirst out of excitement. and if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. he only nods sympathetically and doesn’t prod further.
“if you think its stress related.. how about we step off the battlefield for the week. even being on the training ground for a few hours was too much for us,” he references your disdain for the location, “lets take this break to focus on, well.. you know, each other. and return by the end of the week to see if anything worked.”
as he says that outloud, he’s painfully aware of how bad it sounds. he makes eye contact with an older woman who shoots him a look of pity. yeah, it really did look like you two were airing out your relationship issues to the whole cafe. his ears turn pink.
you, however, only nod thoughtfully, too caught up in your thoughts to catch the expressions of any eavesdroppers. you want to agree with jisung’s proposition but you’re backed up into a corner. if anything, spending more time with jisung would only do you worse. 
all you want to do is camp out in your room for the next week and do your best to forget that your dumb crush is ruining your career. yet on the other hand, if you told jisung all of this, that would definitely make things a lot worse.
is it too late to start searching for a new partner? one that doesn’t through off the entire balance of your soul just from one waist grab.
no. you could never do that. you need to make sure that your souls can resonate by the end of the week, starting with his suggestion.
“alright, lets try it.” your usual self-assured tone makes an appearance with that statement and it soothes jisung to hear.
-
the week passes rather quickly. the two of you followed out with jisung’s proposal, spending every day together doing various things, desperately trying to get yourself back on the same page: picnics, more cafe visits, a trip out of the city, you name it. yet each planned event seems to feel more and more like dates. sure, you two already have spent everyday together for the past few years, but the intentionality of picking places to spend time with one another had your heart thinking for itself.
you really tried to ignore what it looked like, but on friday night when the two of you decided to try a new spot and eat dinner at chenle’s favorite restaurant, you really couldn’t take it anymore. 
dressed in nicer attire, you stole glances at jisung while he busied himself with browsing the menu. your heart beats faster when he tugs at the collar of his white dress shirt subconsciously.
well.. maybe you’re gonna need an indefinite hiatus if he keeps this up.
you instinctively reach for your glass of water and drink a little too much to push down those thoughts. 
“you alright?” he voices his concerns, hoping that since you’re nearing the end of the week, you would be open for a real conversation.
“yeah! yeah- don’t worry about me.” you try to say as naturally as possible. he nods just like how he has been doing for the entire week. there's a dull ache in his chest knowing that you still don’t feel comfortable enough to open up to him.
its odd, he thinks. he’s so used to being the anxious thinker always relying on your drive and spirit to encourage himself. it upsets him to see you so thrown off. he’ll admit, he’s not doing much better. it keeps him up at night worrying whats got you so worked up and why you don’t trust him to completely share your burdens. 
jisung has the remaining energy to muster up the self control to stop thinking about this. he has to be the strong one for you, just like how you’ve been for him in the years that you’ve known him. seeing you stuck like this hasn’t happened before. he chooses his actions thoughtfully. 
“jaemin was telling me how chenle finally got busted for showing up late to his literacy arts class.” he tries to take your mind off of the current situation by thinking of the first thing he could think of.
“the one he always shows up half an hour late to? its about time,” you snort. chenle, due to the identity of his father, has the habit of running on his own schedule. he’s been lucky so far that every professor he’s had has been too scared to report him to his own father, but its about time someone said something about his habit.
“seriously! we’re already halfway through the semester, it took long enough.” he sighs, thinking about his friend’s reckless behavior. the story takes your mind off of things which jisung is just grateful to see a smiling expression on you.
the two of you chat for the rest of the dinner and you start to feel a little more at ease.
-
its the next morning when the both of you are back on the empty training grounds. its officially been one week since you were last here. you feel the pit of anxiety in your stomach but you try to drown it out with affirmations of confidence. you’re hoping the act at least convinces yourself that you can do this.
you notice the faint dark circles underneath jisung’s eyes but he tries to tell you its just because you had to wake up early for this.
“i’m ready. i trust you, yn. lets do this.” jisung tells you sincerely and you think that might’ve been the first time you felt hope about actually succeeding this week.
you take both of his hands in his and give them a squeeze, “we got this.” 
you continue repeating that phrase under your breath as he shifts into the familiar weapon. the hands you were once holding are now a cold bar of metal, signaling you to begin.
you twirl your scythe around your body, trying to mimic the motions you know so well, the ones you’ve gone through a hundred times. you can do it again. 
as you approach the wooden dummy, you actually feel the hope building up. as you swing the scythe in a circular motion, you feel the essence of jisung’s soul nearby. you close your eyes and approach the target.
“soul resonance!” you strike. 
a light emits from the training dummy, its fainter than what its supposed to look like and you didn’t land a clean blow.
and even though it was a partial success, you can’t help but feel that rush of disappointment return. 
jisung is quick to return back to form and you turn your back to face away from him and the in-tact training dummy serving as a reminder for your failure. 
you’re so frustrated. though you’ve made slight progress, it really does feel like your back at square one.
you start walking away. you don’t even know where you’re going but you feel everything in your body driving you off this stupid field. 
“yn.” jisung’s voice calls out to you, presumably to get you to try again. you couldn’t even get yourself to want to go through another attempt. its only going to make you more upset when it doesn’t work out.
“what is it?” you snap back, sounding more sharp than you intended. the second you say it you immediately regret it. jisung doesn’t deserve to face the brunt of your frustrations.
“..do you not trust me?” his voice comes out weaker this time, self-doubt clear in his words. he looks exhausted. you turn around to face your partner. it feels as if an eternity passes as you two stare into each other’s eyes, trying to figure out what the other is thinking.
“in what world would i ever not trust you?” you ask, pained and baffled as to why he even has that thought in his mind.
“then tell me whats wrong,” he pleads, “you don’t think i notice? this whole week you’ve been dancing around telling me the actual issue. i know somethings bothering you, yn. i know you. i only wish you would share it with me. we’re supposed to be.. equals.” the last word he spoke faltered. he said it as if he didn’t quite believe it
“jisung-” your eyes widen at his confession. there was never a day where you would consider yourself anything other than his equal, his partner. guilt weighs in your heart that you hadn’t noticed his desire to hear what’s been causing your turmoil, “its nothing like that, trust me.” you try to defend yourself, desperately trying to grasp at a viable explanation.
“then tell me, yn. tell me what it is.” he takes a few steps closer to you and you feel your hands go numb.
“i like you.” you blurt out. you see his frustrated expression morph into one of surprise. his eyes flicker between yours for further explanation. he stays silent while you continue, “i’m sorry. i tried to ignore it, i really did. our wavelength imbalance- i know its my fault. the whole thing is so dumb but i like you so much that its throwing off our entire balance.”
jisung hesitantly reaches out to you to say something but you beat him to it and dart off the field. you run, just like you’ve been running away from the issue this entire week.
you’re aware you don’t have anywhere to go. you live with him after all, but it doesn’t stop the overwhelming desire to lock yourself up for an indefinite amount of time. you’ve never felt this pathetic before.
-
you sit in your room with the door locked and lights off. after this exhausting week, you just need to think. with no point of reference of what time it currently is, your solitude feels like an eternity.
you recall hearing the front door open and close a while ago. you even heard jisung’s light footsteps in front of your own door and delicate knock, “i’m home.. by the way.” his voice is muffled. you can’t seem to place how he’s feeling through his words. you remain dead silent in response, trying to pass it off as being asleep. he lingers at the door a few seconds longer before retreating back to his room.
it was slightly after that instance when you actually fell asleep, deciding that you could probably use the extra rest after what had just occurred. 
one hour turns into four when you wake up around noon, not expecting to have crashed out for that long. catching up on the much needed sleep, you don’t feel as convoluted as before. you still weren’t ready to step outside the haven that your room provided, still feeling sick over the reality of having to stand face to face with jisung. you’ll never be able to perform soul resonance with him because, fundamentally, your entire relationship is ruined. where are you going to find another weapon? let alone one that worked so perfectly with you. god. it was perfect. you grip your pillow in frustration and flip it, covering your head. you almost want to scream into it, but you're hyper aware of jisung’s presence in this dorm.
you can even hear him shuffle around in the kitchen, telling you that it is indeed lunch time. the thought of running into jisung to grab something in the pantry kills your appetite a little. flopping over, you stare at the ceiling and recount all the memories that led up to this point.
-
the amount of time passed is unknown to you. if you were to guess, you would say it's already dinner time but maybe that’s the hunger talking from your missed lunch. 
you’ve rotted the whole day away in your bed and you’re ready to spend the next year there if you have to.
those thoughts of recluse are interrupted by what you assume to be jisung coming home again. you thought you heard him leave a bit ago, but you were set on distracting yourself from analyzing his every footstep around the house. however, your stomach growls and an instance of regret kicks in when you realize you should’ve snuck out to the kitchen when he wasn’t occupying the same living space as you. you groan at the missed opportunity. 
a few raps at your door echo into the room. you curse yourself for making any noise because there’s no way you could play asleep again. you’re about to open your mouth to ask him to go away but jisung is faster in speaking up.
“i’m not leaving this time. i’m coming in.” he warns you somewhat sternly before opening up the door separating him and your personal refuge. the crinkle of plastic bags follows him in the room. he's carrying take out. once the scent of fast food hits the air, your stomach betrays you and the initial growl from a few minutes grows louder. he deposits the bags at your desk before moving closer to where you’re seated at the edge of your bed. he kneels on the floor and places a hand on your knee.
“we need to talk. i wanted you to be ready on your own time but, i’m sorry, i have to speed up this process.” he chuckles at that last part. you both know you were stubborn enough to avoid him for the rest of your lives if you had to. he rises from his position on the floor to sit on the edge of your bed.
his hand moves from your leg to your hand and he pulls it toward him. his eyes urge you to remain in contact with him.
“how have you not noticed this whole time?” he asks you softly, glancing at your interlocked hands. your heart beats out of your chest when he continues, “the day that test paired us up, i saw it in your eyes that you wanted a different partner,” he fondly laughs at the memory and squeezes your hand, “but when you laid out your dreams to me, something told me that i needed to make myself capable of helping you achieve your every wish.”
he moves your hand to his chest, placing it atop his heart. “i am the weapon i am today only because of you. because i’ve always admired your drive and dedication to do what you love. you’ve pushed me to be the best version of myself and grow more comfortable in my identity as a scythe. i’ve always loved that about you,” his grip on your hand loosens and you take the liberty to trace it upward to his cheek, resting it there as you stare into his eyes, “i’ve always loved you.”
and though you’ve managed to get through the majority of the day without shedding any tears, you feel your cheeks getting wet before you even realize. jisung is quick to delicately wipe them away, his large hands softly rubbing your face. you melt into his touch and he leaves his hands cupping your cheeks. you don’t know how long you two spend in that position before your faces eventually end up inches away from each other.
“can i?” he looks at you with shining eyes that cause your heart to soften the second he asks.
“of course” you breathe out, eyes fluttering closed. he waits a second after receiving confirmation before dipping in to kiss you. his hold on you is gentle, every touch channels the greatest amount of care. you lean closer to him, resting your hand against his thigh as you continue the kiss further. as you two share this moment, you feel as if your soul is fusing with his.
jisung moves one of his hands to your waist as you briefly break apart to catch your breath.
“i’m sorry about this. i really hope you know why i wasn’t telling you the truth this whole week-” you feel the need to apologize but he cuts you off with a kiss.
“i know, i trust you” he embraces you, smiling in your neck.
“and i’ll always trust you,” you both lean back into the bed and lay there for who knows how long. the takeout on your desk sits forgotten, but neither of you care about that at all- not when your souls are unified, having found their home in each other.
-
-
-
“soul resonance!” you slash into the training dummy. you returned to the field the next day with jisung, never having felt more confident. within your first attempt of the day, you are knocked back by a blinding white light- one brighter than ever before. it takes ten seconds for the light to fade and you and jisung are met with the sight of your demolished training victim as well as a massive gash in the field behind it.
“holy shit.” jisung morphs back, staring in awe at the damage you caused to the training grounds. he looks at the huge dirt cavern you sliced out of the grass and back to you, “holy shit!”
you turn to him excitedly and jump into his arms, spinning around as you two celebrate the long week of trying to repairing your broken connection. he finally sets you down, still keeping you in his embrace. his head lifts up to look at you.
“do you think we’re gonna get in trouble for,, this?” he references the mess and you step back to further examine just what you caused.
“who cares. we’ll never be back here.”
-
bonus scene: 
“today we have an alumni here to speak to the class about advanced soul resonance. mr. mark lee, please give these students a word of advice.” the professor steps down and a young man walks to the front of the lecture hall. 
“alright guys, uh, listen up,” the fairly awkward boy clears his throat in front of all the students, “no matter what they say, no matter what they do. we gon’ resonate. resonate!” 
the class goes silent.
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Text
It happens by chance, and while Harry wishes it hadn’t, this will at least clear up any lingering uncertainty for him.
There’s a skirmish between Harry and some friends from the Order and Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and a couple stray curses happen to catch him – one slices shallowly into his upper arm, the other sends him rolling across the ground. The upshot of this is that the left shoulder of Harry’s shirt is now in ribbons and hanging down around his waist, leaving his chest – and soul mark – bare to the world. Including Voldemort.
Who looks like he’s having one doozy of an emotion.
And that basically confirms the dark wizard hadn’t known, but right now Harry’s bleeding sluggishly and wants to go home and have a drink and pass out for at least a few hours, so Voldemort can rage on his own time. Everyone else from his side has already buggered off, so he’s not abandoning anyone if he does the same.
Unfortunately, the blood loss – while not severe – is enough to slow his reaction time, which leads to him apparating himself and the Dark Lord latched onto him to his flat. Not ideal.
There are a tense few moments of staring at the snake man, waiting to see if he’ll attack or start destroying Harry’s home, but when he doesn’t take advantage – when he just stares and frowns and stares some more – Harry decides he’s too tired for this shit.
“You are just impossible to ward out, aren’t you?” he sighs. The curse of being so physically and magically intertwined with the other man. (Well. And at the soul level, too, but he tries not to think of that.)
Voldemort yanks him by his uninjured arm towards the kitchen light that comes on automatically and stares at Harry’s chest, and the elegantly written Tom Marvolo Riddle thereupon.
Harry scowls when the staring drags on. “Oi, could you quit perving on me and piss off already?”
“You were never going to tell me?” Voldemort demands, ignoring Harry’s half-arsed attempt at distraction.
“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Why the Hel would I? Either you already knew and it didn’t matter to you, or you didn’t – and I wasn’t about to risk baring my soul to someone who has a history of wanting me dead.” He shrugs. “I’m reckless, not suicidal.”
Voldemort opens his mouth with an angrily indignant look, and Harry looks to the ceiling for patience before pulling out of the other man’s grip and opening his emergency bottle of firewhiskey, hidden in the pantry, because this conversation needs alcohol. He pours two glasses (his to the brim) because he tries to be a good host, even to the bane of his existence. And if Voldemort doesn’t want it, well, it’ll save Harry getting the bottle out again.
All throughout this, Voldemort is ranting at him. Harry tunes most of it out – he’s had to hear enough of the man’s monologues to know he doesn’t need to listen to the preamble; the meat of his diatribe won’t come until a couple minutes in, at least.
After he casts a quick episkey on the cut on his arm, Harry leans against the counter, watching Voldemort pace around his modest kitchen. He takes a long, slow drink, welcoming the fire flowing down his throat and warming his belly. And either the other man is taking even longer than usual to get to the point or Harry’s more exhausted and irritable than he’d thought, because he’s suddenly completely out of patience with this situation.
He cuts in boredly, “It’s not like it changes anything. It doesn’t matter.”
Voldemort is immediately before him, looming and enraged. “It matters to me!”
“Why?”
“I’ve waited decades for you,” he says vehemently, leaning closer in an attempt to physically intimidate or pin Harry in place.
Harry barks a harsh laugh. “You waited for a fantasy. You’ve spent my whole life killing and hurting the people most important to me. Some silly mark doesn’t change that – it doesn’t make it better, it won’t make me love you.” He takes a sip and rasps through the burn. “It won’t change who you are.”
“I never received a mark–”
“And that’s unfortunate. Clearly it affected you. But plenty of people don’t get soul marks and they don’t commit mass murder and incite civil wars.” He gives Voldemort a dismissive look, standing up straight and slipping out from between the dark wizard and the counter. He can almost hear the other man grinding his teeth. 
“You have no idea what it’s like, not having a mark,” Voldemort hisses caustically, face contorted in a furious snarl. “The contempt, the ridicule I had to endure. I was denied one of Magic's basic gifts and they took it as proof they were better than me, those worthless fools.”
It’s difficult to know how he would’ve reacted to not having a mark. His burden has been to have the mark of the worst possible person, and he thinks he’s handled it far better than anyone could’ve expected of him. Having no mark would’ve confirmed that he’s meant to be alone, that there’s no one out there meant just for him, but having Voldemort’s mark as Harry Potter essentially means the same thing.
“Maybe you mutilated your soul too much to deserve a mark,” Harry says in a fit of cruelty. Behind the wrath crackling in the other man’s eyes, he can see the misery bloom. As good as it feels to score a hit against Voldemort, he regrets it even more. And isn’t that the exact reason why this damn war has dragged on for so long?
(Harry pushes that thought away wearily.)
“You had choices, Voldemort, and you made yours,” he says quietly but firmly. “I’m making mine, and it’s that I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“This is not a unilateral decision,” Voldemort says, the frustration in his tone edging close to desperation. “Do my wants mean nothing?”
"Your wants." Harry slams his almost empty glass down on the table; his voice comes out dangerously even. “Alright then. Can you bring my parents back to life? No? How about Cedric, or Sirius, or any of the dozens of others whose lives you’ve cut short?”
Voldemort’s mouth is pinched shut, a thunderous frown on his face.
“Hel, let’s start small. Stop this war, swear to never harm another person and get your followers to do the same. You want me to care about what you want? Start by addressing all of that.”
“You ask this of me and promise nothing in return?” Voldemort says bitterly.
“That’s the bare minimum it would take for me to see you as anything more than a murderous, blood-supremacist monster. And I honestly don’t think you can do it, but feel free to prove me wrong.”
That puts an unsettling gleam in the other man’s eyes. Harry thinks back on what he might’ve said to cause that reaction and feels his stomach drop. Oh bother. He’d challenged Voldemort. Harry knows exactly how he'd react to someone saying that; apparently Voldemort is equally competitive (and motivated by spite – he should’ve guessed that).
“...If I am able to–”
“You won’t–”
“When I fulfill your requirements,” Voldemort arrogantly says, face intense. “You and I will explore our connection, and you will meet with me frequently to do so.”
And now Harry is in a quandary. If Voldemort does what he’s been asked, Harry will have achieved what he’s been fighting for all six years of his adult life; if Voldemort doesn’t, Harry’s no worse off than he was before. And he knows the dark wizard won’t give up his cause simply because his soulmate asked, but if Voldemort does…
“You do realise that your soulmate is me, yeah?” Harry clarifies, unnerved by the shift in the other man's demeanour. “You don’t like me. At all.”
“Nonsense,” Voldemort says, waving off Harry’s really very logical point. “We simply haven’t had a chance to become properly acquainted.”
“...Because you’re always trying to kill me.”
“Details, details.” 
Harry would very much like to strangle the megalomaniac who is still in his apartment. “...Uh-huh. Sure, you become a completely different person and we’ll talk.”
He sometimes forgets that magic occasionally disregards sarcasm. This appears to be one of those times, as the heaviness in the air snaps tight around them, signifying Harry’s flippant “sure” just turned this discussion into a magically binding agreement. Merlin’s pierced nipples. So much for intent over phrasing.
Catching sight of Voldemort’s smug smirk, Harry suddenly feels genuinely homicidal for the first time in his life. Sensing his non-existent welcome is well and truly worn out, Voldemort says, “I look forward to it,” and apparates away. Harry pitches a cushion through the space the dark wizard just occupied. It helps settle his irritation a little.
He drops onto his couch with a deep, bone-tired sigh and tosses back Voldemort’s untouched glass of firewhiskey. 
He wonders if he’ll feel disappointed or relieved when Voldemort realises he’d rather keep trying to subjugate Magical Britain than have Harry as his soulmate.
Three days later, the war ends.
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nightingale2004 · 1 month ago
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The reason I became a snape fan.
When I was a kid and watched the Harry Potter movies, I didn't like Severus at all. I found him quite terrifying, actually, and I didn't really remember much of the movies. When I was introduced to the marauders, I had the biggest crush on Sirius, and I would even imagine being friends with them.
But then, when I rewatched the Harry Potter movies and even looked at the books. I didn't like the marauders at all because of what they did to Severus, and I also realized that Severus, both as a person and as a character, was the literal definition of "appearances can be deceiving".
Severus literally dressed up and delivered his presence the same way a normal supervillain in any action movie would. But then, when it was revealed that he wasn't actually trying to hurt our hero but to save his life along with looking after him and helping him reach victory, I felt completely guilty for misjudging him.
I then dug myself deeper into the Snape fandom, and I learned a lot about him from both the movies and books and how people could relate to him.
I don't excuse the man's actions for bullying children and all that. But I will say, given his situation and the fact that he has dozens of unpacked trauma and issues, he never unpacked. I can imagine all that baggage can make anyone similar to Severus. Especially if they have been tormented, bullied, SA'd, manipulated, and abused throughout their whole life just because of who you were, where you came from, and what you looked like.
I found myself even relating to Severus because I have been through similar situations in my life. To me, Severus was this character that deserved pure happiness. He was a character with flaws. He was a character that most people quickly judged, including myself.
Severus gave everything to protect his students, including Harry, despite him being the child of his bully. He may dislike Harry because he looks like James, but he still protects him and keeps him alive.
I believe if Severus had the time to heal and deal with his trauma that he had carried around for centuries, then he would've been much happier.
I fell completely in love with severus as a character because of who he was inside and out and how people saw him.
I even managed to understand who the marauders and their fans really were.
Severus doesn't deserve the hate given to him but deserves respect for how much he sacrificed and given for the order, to Dumbledore, and to Harry. Severus made mistakes, he did bad things, he is a grey character, and he is human.
Like I said, I'm not excusing his actions towards his students, but I salute this man because of what he did. He became a spy for the order, protected the child of his childhood best friend and bully, tried to save the life of one of his tormenters, brewed wolfsbane for the other, tricked the dark lord, tricked the Death eaters, risked his life countless times, protected his students to the best of his abilities, and tried to save as many as he could.
Others want to romanticize the death eaters because they find them attractive, including FREAKING VOLDEMORT AND BELLATRIX. I will never understand them.
But these are one of the many many reasons why I side with Severus. He is truly a brave, caring, and protective soul once you truly dig deeper and get to know him. He may be scary, he may not be the most appealing to you, and he may look like a classic villain. But there is soooo much more to him than meets the eye, and I salute the fanfic writers and the Snape fandom for seeing it too. I also know that Alan probably saw it, too, and he would be incredibly proud of what the Snape fandom has made as a community and as fans.
So this is my reason. Please respect that. If you don't like that, then ignore this post.
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whackk-kermitt · 8 months ago
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Dealing w/ Your Gremlin Behavior
Genre: Platonic Headconnons
Warnings: None
Request: What if Y/n was another God, who was basically a little chaotic gremlin; they see you as their child/sibling.
≫ ────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ────── ≪
Kratos
You give him a headache.
He will not hesitate to tell you to shut up.
You ramble about stupid things so often that sometimes he believes his ears will bleed.
Kratos has to hold you back by the collar when he sees that dangerous glint in your eyes.
The one that lets him know you want to try and make friends with the creature that wants to make you it's dinner.
That one that tells him that you're going to do something stupidly dangerous while claiming that you're helping.
You're not helping. You're just giving him one more thing to worry about.
When I say he's worried, I mean worried.
Atreus has done some dumb things, but you were wild and almost feral sometimes.
He's extra hard on you and even more strict with how he trains you.
Congrats, he'll drag you out for hunting and training more often than Atreus.
He's absolutely terrified that if he takes his eyes off you for even a moment, you'll piss off a troll or a soul eater.
Can't take you anywhere.
But he'd kill for you.
So I guess you can stay.
Just please stop trying to bite everything that's trying to kill you.
Atreus
Atreus thinks you're hilarious.
Bonus points when Kratos is yelling at you, not him.
But most of the time you've roped him into your shenanigans and he's taking heat too.
Half the time he watches and cheers you on, the other half he's right there with you.
Mostly because things have gone horribly wrong and he's trying to help fix it before Kratos comes along and catches you two.
Mimir
He can't do much more then tell you off if you to something stupid.
So, that being said, gremlin has free rain.
Until he tells Kratos to be his hands and smack you around some.
Then you better start acting straight, cause Kray don't play.
You are never allowed to carry him.
Never again.
Not after last time!
Sometimes though, its just good fun to watch you be wild.
Makes him miss being young.
And, you know. . . his body.
Freya
She has no patience for it.
Behave yourself, at least around her.
When you go gallivanting and come back with scraps or bruises, she'll scold you endlessly while tending to them.
"I'm speechless." While proceeding to talk for hours about how reckless and stupid that was.
She was horrified when she watched you insult a draugr's 'dead mama' while slashing it in half and doing a victory dance over its corpse.
What has she gotten herself into?
Yet despite your feral behavior, she enjoys being motherly again.
She has no problem cleaning you up and making food for you.
She just wishes you'd be more careful.
She's so afraid of overstepping and becoming too protective of you.
But she's not afraid to curse you for a day, a simple binding spell, to keep you in the house when you've gone too far.
You're grounded!
Sindri
You leave the house all clean and spiffy.
Always returning covered in dirt and mud, leaves on your clothes and in your hair.
He'll always frown and point to the bath he prepares for you when you leave.
You make his eye twitch every time.
You'd just grin and get to it.
Arguments over cleanliness while you're staying with him.
He knows you can't help the trouble you always find yourself in, but he knows you won't avoid it.
He knows you thrive on chaos.
He hates that about you, but he cares too much to let you go off with nowhere to go if something bad happens.
So his door is always open for you.
Even if it means you're dripping blood and dirt on his clean floors.
He just makes you clean it.
Brok
He's a gremlin.
So he loves that you are as well.
You two get into so much shit together it's hard to think you're both still alive.
Sindri is over it.
Heimdall
Absolutely not a fan of it.
Don't even start with him.
And for the love of god, stop trying to sneak up and bite him.
It was amusing for a while, but it's getting old.
He always has to hold you back when he see's you're about to do something stupid.
He will absolutely pretend to not have a clue who you are if you get caught doing something you're not supposed to be doing.
Lots of scolding and 'don't do anything I wouldn't do's.
If you were literally anyone else he would've fed you to Gulltoppr by now.
Baldur
He loves the chaos.
You keep him on his toes and his head on a swivel.
You are a challenge to put up with but damn you're fun!
Nobody makes him laugh quit like you when you're poking the bare.
Literally.
Please stop. What the actually fuck are you doing?
He actually 'died' jumping in when that dead bear wasn't really dead and decided it didn't like you poking it.
But hey, he's got a new rug and a fun story so yippee!
≫ ────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ────── ≪
NOT PROOF-READ Might come back to this one and fix it up some more. It feels kinda empty right now; I'm off my game.
•Kermitts Masterlist•
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skellyflowers · 18 days ago
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My Cat Vessel
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A/N: I have never had a cat.
I thought I would ever get a cat. But here I am, looking at this odd fur ball. I don't even know where he came from. I found him on my apartment doorstep. He had a collar and a name tag, so I know his name is Vessel, but no owner contact information. 
I really did try to find Vessel’s owner. I asked my neighbors, I put up posters, tried social media and checked to see if he had a microchip. But no luck. So, for the foreseeable future, I have a little black cat.
Vessel is an… odd little guy. He only eats if I put his bowl on the table with me, so we eat together. I often find him staring at me. Usually from around the room. He runs around my apartment in the middle of the night. He also… yells at me when he sees me. My friends tell me that he is just being a normal cat.
I've had Vessel for about 2 months now and I've learned more of his habits. He likes to sit at the door as I leave to go to work. He only sits in his cat bed if it is on the couch. I'm also pretty sure he is having secret cat meetings with three other cats in my neighborhood. I swear if I come home to three more cats.
“Vessel, I'm home.” I called out. 
I look around for him. Normally he is right at the door when I come home. Ready to give me welcome home bites.
“Vessel? Where are you?”
“Mowww.”
Oh. There he is. Where did that come from? The kitchen?
“Vessel?”
“Mrow!”
I look around the kitchen but I don’t see him. My kitchen isn't that big, where is he?
“Ves, where are you buddy?”
“MEOW!”
“Are you in the cabinet?”
“Meow.”
I open my cabinet and see him sitting in a soup pot. He meows right in my face when he sees me.
“Don’t yell at me! How did you even get in here?”
The cat makes no effort to move. After about ten seconds I pull the pot out of the cabinet, Vessel still sitting inside.
“Get out of there.” I say putting my hands on my hips.
Vessel just looks up at me. He makes a chittering sound. When I try to pick him up he gently swats at my hand.
“We're not making cat soup tonight.”
I turn the pot to pour him out of it. When I place the pot make down Vessel climbs back in the pot. We do this two more times. After the fourth time I flip the pot on top of Vessel. His bowls echo under the pot.
“You ready to come out now?” I ask as I lift the pot up.
He crawls out from under the pot. He then climbs onto my shoulder and headbutts me. He crawls around my shoulders and purrs loudly in my ears.
“Did you miss me?” I ask him.
“Mrow.”
“I missed you too. Did you see your friends?” I ask as I walk to the couch.
“MEOW!”  
“Don’t get any ideas. You aren't for the streets. Not anymore.”
He meows softly in my ear and bats at my nose. He starts to purr again as I scratch his ears. I put him on the couch and started making us dinner. When I look up to check on him, he is sitting on the arm of the couch staring into my soul.
“Don’t stare at me like that!” Vessel decided to jump off the couch and walked into the kitchen to stare at me.
“Mreeow.” 
“You want chicken?” He meows really loudly and rubs against my legs. “Ok, let me get your bowl.”
Vessel jumps on the table to wait for me to bring his food. I put extra chicken in his food and turn on the TV so we have something to watch. Vessel is a loud eater.
“And you want to leave to hang out with your friends..”
 After dinner I put a nature documentary on for Vessel, to distract him. I want to take a bath and really relax tonight. Last thing I need is that fur ball to stand in the bathroom and yell at me while I just try to wash off a long day at work. Before I get in the tub I check on Vessel and see him as close to the TV as possible. His eyes are huge while he watches.
I get about 7 minutes alone before I hear him. At first it's a quiet meow, then a few footsteps. Then a louder meow and tiny paws running. I open my eyes and look at the bathroom door and see a little black paw reaching under the door.
“Ves! Stop!”
“Meowwwww!”
“I'll  be out in a few minutes. Relax.” 
He quiets down after I say that. I decided to cut my bath short. I dry off and put on my robe. As I exit the bathroom and go to the living room I see Vessel. He is loafed on the couch. But with his ears pulled back I can tell he is a grumpy loaf.
“Don’t be mad.” Vessel doesn’t respond but his tail moves behind him. “Ok. My me time is done. You can be as clingy as you want.”
“Meow.”
I walk over to him and pick him up. Vessel flops in my arms and purrs loudly.
“I knew you weren’t really mad at me.” I walk to my room with him in my arms. 
I put him on the bed and changed into my pajamas. I noticed that Vessel covered his eyes… like he was embarrassed. Once I changed and got under the covers Vessel climbs on top of me and starts to make biscuits before settling on my chest. I give him a scratch on his ears.
“Goodnight Vessel.” he quietly meows and I fall asleep to his loud purrs.
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slut4megantheestallion · 1 month ago
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Dating Megan thee stallion Headcannons ♡✧・゚
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(There's barely any megan thee stallion fanfics on here, so I'm gonna make one myself because I love her and her music, like how can u hate her? She's co cutesy <3)
●First of all, this woman is such a cutie patootie. She loves you with her whole heart. Oh my omg she's so adorable~ she'll do anything for you.
● she loves showing videos of her freestyles to you and loves seeing your reactions and how talented she is, and all her hard work. You're her biggest supporter.
● she takes you everywhere malls, traveling, when she's busy performing, she just likes bringing you anywhere with her.
● Being the only person to console her when she gets hate online, people bullying her on the internet.
● Megan is very overprotective over you. She doesn't want anything bad happening to you. She also likes to post you and her together, but she keeps it lowkey and doesn't want anyone in her business, she'll post you once or talks about you, but keep it lowkey and doest explain too much.
● Meg is a huge foodie. You both eat a lot of food from different countries and cultures, you both like eating and enjoy food together, megan also loves cooking for you, but whenever she'd tired or doest feel like cooking you cook for her, she couldn't have love you even more.
●Super affectionate, megan wants to be around you all times. She'll get you anything you want. She loves spoiling you too, even tho you don't want her to, she does it any way.
● Her love for you is physical affection. She loved hugging, kissing, and cuddling. She's like a cute teddy bear.
● idk why, but I feel like Meg is the type to like shake her ass against you or not in a sexual way she's just very goofy.
● Anime fan<3, when megan found out you never watched anime, she made you watch anime just to see what your missing out on, like she'll have u watch hxh, at, soul eater, etc, she loves anime so much she can talk about it for hours and hours telling you her favorite character, and you find it so cute the way she rambles on and about it.
● She's such a ray of sunshine, she's so cutesy, she loves laughing and making jokes, like you can't go through a day with laughing with her.
● she loves video games and loves playing it with you most of the time.
● Whenever Meg was at her lowest, you're always the first person there for her, you hater seeing her cry, you'd always cheer her up every single time.
● Being the only person there for her when her mom passed away, you know it was a very sensitive topic, but you're always there for, you love listening to her talk about her mom.amd how great of a person she was, and you told her that "if your mom was here, she would be very happy and proud of the person you have become."
● You are her biggest fan. She always lets you listen to her music before she releases, and she loves your reactions and how you dance to her music, your biggest hype man.
● Megan loves you so much, and she's grateful to have you by her side, overall meg is a perfect girlfriend you can never ask for<3 (Enjoy the cute edit of her at the end 💓)
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