#sorry if this is vague it's written for me as someone who has had this in my head for like four years so I haven't needed to elaborate b4

[milfglupshitto]

the totally real star wars animated series Star Wars: Recrimination Season 1 episode titles/subtitles and full descriptions (LEGIT LEAK) (NOT CLICKBAIT) (TRUST ME) (DARLING YOU MUST TRUST ME)

Episode 1: The Law of Identity

After nearly a year gone, a man returns home. 

Released from quarantine and intelligence meetings after his return from behind enemy lines, human officer Eli Vanto is restored to the command of his own ship, the Ratite. The episode follows him as he navigates through his final debriefing with fleet high command, reunion with his family, a social gathering with military associates, and the beginning (and abrupt derailing) of his first mission back. 

Episode 2: The Law of Noncontradiction

Two not-quite-strangers brave the woods and the wars waging around them.

After his smaller craft is shot out of the sky above a war-ravaged planet on the verge of seismic collapse, Eli must work with Mirri, a Grysk elite enforcer who he recognizes from his capture, to get off the planet before it’s too late. As the pair make their way through the woods over the course of three days, flashback-dreams to their shared past are interspersed to provide context. The episode culminates in their arrival at the safehouse where Mirri’s Force-sensitive daughter Jona is hidden, and Mirri sacrifices herself after extracting Eli’s promise to protect her child at the cost of his life. 

Episode 3: The Law of Excluded Middle

A new variable disrupts an established order.

Eli returns to the Ratite with Jona, encountering resistance to his adoption of the alien child, whose species he is able to keep secret from all except the admiral he was captured alongside prior to the events of the series. He convinces her not to expose the lie, but even after calling in favors his choice strains the faith of his fellow command officers as well as that of his other children. The previous harmony of ship and captain is tested as a difficult operation forces all passengers and crew to rely on each other. Eli is able to demonstrate his loyalty to the Ascendancy despite his recent (perceived) betrayal, and his family closes ranks as his second daughter, at first the most hostile to the newest addition due to her own trauma, begins to warm up to the youngest girl. Eli experiences the first of many strange dreams.

Episode 4: The Law of Large Numbers

Concerns mount as patterns take shape.

Roughly three months have passed since the previous arc. Jona continues to acclimate to her new surroundings, and the crew are beginning to behave more favorably towards her, especially when her self-appointed twin sister Idsvey is around. Eli has been being sent on more missions that appear to be increasingly dangerous. This episode jumps between the four girls on the ship in a “slice-of-life” look at how they have adjusted and some of the challenges they are facing and Eli’s mission as it draws him into a desperate fight that threatens his return home and suggests that he is being sent into deliberate peril. 

Episode 5: The Law of Inverse Consequences 

Dark forces reveal themselves.

On a joint military operation to confront a burgeoning attack force, poor strategic decisions as  result of inter-Family conflict allow the opposition to gain a stronger foothold in the Chaos. Jona and her sisters experience strange visions that suggest a growing threat with extraordinary power in the Force. The end of the episode, which functions as a “mid-season finale”, reveals this threat to be a dark sorcerer, a conceptual variant on Legends’ Joruus C’baoth. 

Episode 6: The Law of Total Expectation

After not nearly enough years gone, a woman returns home.

In this episode, the first one after the “mid-season finale”, Chiss Navigator Vah’nya is facing her impending 28th starday– and 21 years of service to the Expansionary Defense Fleet–  with cynicism and hostility. Prompted by a bizarre dream that she believes to be a result of her Third Sight abilities, she returns to her birth planet and the Shadehouse facility there and reconnects with some of the veteran and junior staff, as well as members of her original Family. While the episode mostly follows Vah’nya, the goings-on of the Ratite are featured as the young woman calls to check in on things “back home”. The episode ends with Vah’nya experiencing another strange dream, and waking up at the entrance to a cave. 

Episode 7: The Law of Total Variance

Mystical revelations lead to startling encounters. 

Vah’nya returns to the Shadehouse after her sleepwalking adventure, resolving to return to the cave with appropriate supplies and investigate it despite the warnings of the staff. When she enters the system, she must face spectres from her past and frightening portents of the future. Upon facing these challenges, she locates a crystal which has been calling to her in her dreams, taking it from the cave and keeping it hidden as she journeys back. When she rendezvouses with the Ratite, she does not tell anyone about the crystal, but notices Jona staring at her with a curious expression as she locks herself in her quarters and begins sketching out schematics.

Episode 8: The Law of Detachment 

Decision and indecision make for dangerous roads. 

The enemy attack force from earlier, strengthened by the previous conflict, begins advancing on neighboring territory. Eli and his allies petition for a response force, but are denied. Vah’nya feels compelled to travel to a planet on the edge of the threatened system and sneaks off the Ratite to journey there alone, where she encounters the dark sorcerer revealed at the end of the mid-season finale. He appears to be a wise teacher at first, helping her to refine her lightsaber design, but as her “training” progresses he reveals himself to be unstable and controlling, warping the navigator’s mind. Eli becomes aware of Vah’nya’s disappearance, but is unable to investigate further before a highly coordinated attack is launched by the enemy, prompting the fleet to fully engage. 

Episode 9: The Law of Syllogism

Fire rages among the stars.

Vah’nya battles the sorcerer’s control over her mind as he influences the forces engaged in battle high above them. Unable to break her will completely due to the protective influence of her crystal, he casts her aside and focuses his efforts on the three eldest daughters on the Ratite above, who follow his call and attempt to leave the ship while the crew battles the furious and faultless enemy onslaught. Unnoticed by and immune to the sorcerer’s influence, Jona makes her way to the turret controls and fires a laser directly at the sea of the planet below. The impact distracts the sorcerer long enough for his hold over the children and the enemy forces to break, and Vah’nya engages him with her saber. Before she can strike him down or incapacitate him, the sorcerer takes his own life by means of fire, his last words a warning that “only perfect order can hold back what is to come”. The fleet wraps up the battle, and Vah’nya returns to the Ratite as it lands to assist with relief efforts, embracing Jona and showing her family her saber.

Explanations: 

Law of Identity- each thing is identical with itself 

Law of Noncontradiction- contradictory propositions cannot both be true in the same sense at the same time

Law of Excluded Middle- for every proposition, either it or its negation is true 

Law of Large Numbers- the average of the results of a trial becomes closer to the expected value as more trials are performed 

Law of Inverse Consequences- a choice can have the opposite of the expected result 

Law of Total Expectation- expected result is dependent on in-group and between-group expected results  

Law of Total Variance- variance in the total result is dependent on in-group and between-group variance 

Law of Detachment- given true hypothesis of a true conditional, the result must be true

Law of Syllogism- if two statements between three variables are true, so is the third 

(Discrete arcs, as indicated by the episode titles, are color-coded)

[runninriot]

keep your pretty face out of trouble

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 20

prompt: "I didn't know where else to go." | rated: T | wc: 2.596 | cw: mentions of blood, injuries, homophobia | tags: Steve Harrington is a mess, and so is his face, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Friends to Lovers | also on ao3

Eddie didn’t really know what to expect when he entered the Henderson’s home. Dustin had been quite vague on the phone, didn’t say much at all to be honest, nothing of substance at least. Nothing that could’ve prepared Eddie for what he finds when he steps into the living room where, next to his little pal, he finds none other than Steve Harrington sitting on the couch.

And as if that isn’t confusing enough, what’s really concerning is the way he looks.

His face is fucked. Beaten, bruised, mush. There is blood on his lower lip and dripping out from his nose into a tissue that’s already soaked.

Dustin is sitting by his side, holding what seems to be a bag of frozen peas against the older boy’s neck.

   “Dustin, what the fu-“

He doesn’t get to finish his question because Steve suddenly looks up, eyes wide in shock like he’s just now becoming aware of Eddie’s presence, before turning to Dustin with an expression that isn’t at all hard to read.

    What’s he doing here?

Dustin lets go of the frozen goods in order to hold both hands up defensively.

   “Hey, don’t look at me like that! I didn’t know what to do, so I called Eddie.”

   “You shouldn’t have done that. I’m fine.”

   “You are very clearly not fine, Steve!”

They’re doing this weird but kinda adorable staring competition they often do when they’re arguing and it would be amusing to watch if it weren’t for whatever the fuck is going on with Steve’s face.

Dustin doesn’t waver, holds Steve’s disapproving gaze seemingly unimpressed but Eddie could hear the tremble in his voice, knows Dustin is only barely keeping it together.

Always trying to keep up a brave face, Dustin is, but Eddie knows his vulnerable side, too. Maybe that’s why Dustin called him instead of Wheeler or any of the other Gremlins when Steve- what? Appeared on his doorstep all beat-up? Or where they out together when it happened? Is Dustin hurt, too?

Eddie shakes himself out of his thoughts, lets his eyes wander between the two, both hands on his hips like he’s seen Steve do whenever he’s trying to make a point.

   “Alright, enough! Can someone please tell me what happened?” Eddie asks as he steps closer, watching Steve’s shoulders tense immediately.

   “I told you, I’m fine. I just- I didn’t know where else to go! Robin’s not home and-”

Okay, ouch! Eddie feels slightly offended. Steve could’ve come to him instead of-

Nevermind. There are bigger problems at hand.

   “It was stupid, I’m sorry. I’ll be out of your hair.”

Steve makes an attempt to stand up but his body betrays him as soon as he’s on his feet, swaying slightly into Eddie’s direction, who catches him instinctively, steadies him with a hand on his arm.

   “Woah there, big boy! You’re gonna sit your ass back down for me, okay?”

Eddie can sense that Steve wants to put up a fight but thankfully, he doesn’t. Instead, he lets Eddie guide him back down.

   “Some assholes did this to him,” Dustin finally says. “I don’t know who but Steve said he got into a fight.”

   “I only came here because it was closer than my place,” Steve grumbles, obviously regretting his decision now.

   “You scared the shit out of me, Steve! So I called Eddie because- well, I don’t know. I thought maybe he could help talk some sense into you. You need to go to the hospital! Or a doctor, I don’t care but someone’s gotta take care of that.” Dustin says, pointing at the mess that is Steve’s face.

   “I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine, really. See, it already stopped bleeding.”

Steve retrieves the once-white-now-red tissue to prove that the bleeding has stopped, which it has. But Eddie can see in Dustin’s eyes that the boy is still not convinced enough to let him off the hook.

   “Let me have a look?” Eddie gently takes hold of Steve’s chin to tilt his head up, feels his courage falter for a split-second when Steve’s pupils suddenly dilate and he can see by the bob of his Adam’s apple, that he has to swallow down hard.

    God, even with his face bloody and bruised Steve is fucking gorgeous. It’s really not fair, if you asked Eddie. That guy is beyond anything he could ever wish to-

    No, no. Focus, Munson.

   “Let’s see if we gotta be worried about your pretty face being blemished by a broken nose, ey?” Eddie jokes just to cover his own nervousness.

   “How would you know if it’s broken? You’re not a doctor.” Dustin protests, rightfully sceptical about Eddie’s ability to come up with a valid diagnosis.

   “Ah, see, when you’ve had your nose broken several times, you kinda know what to look for,” Eddie replies nonchalantly as he examines the swelling around Steve’s nose, ignoring the sad, kind of pitying look in Steve’s eyes at his statement.

   “I think you’re good, Harrington. Still straight and beautiful as ever. It’ll hurt for a few days but you’ll live,” Eddie says with a wink, hesitating to let go of his face even if there’s no need to hold him still anymore.

For a moment, their eyes are locked in on each other, both staring wide-eyed and kind of lost in some spellbound haze that makes it impossible for either of them to look away.

Unfortunately – or rather, lucky for him – Dustin’s voice breaks through the static crackling in Eddie’s ears and brings him back to reality.

   “I don’t know Eddie. Are you sure it’s not broken?”

Eddie finally lets go of Steve, not without an instant feeling of regret at the loss of contact, and turns to the younger boy.

   “I’m sure, Dusty. Believe me, when you’ve been beat up as often as I have, you quickly learn to know the difference between injuries that’ll hurt like a bitch but are otherwise harmless, and injuries that need medical attention.”

It does look worse than it is, thankfully. And with a bit of ice and some rest, Steve will be back on his feet in no time.

This, however, brings Eddie back to wondering what even got Steve in the state he’s currently in.

   “Wanna tell me who did this? What happened?”

Steve looks down at his hands, fumbling with an invisible thread on his neat jeans.

   “I, uh- got into a fight with some guys because they were talking shit about, uh-“

His eyes dart up to Eddie, just for the flicker of a moment, looking almost ashamed with that light blush creeping up from his cheeks to his ears, before he finds his voice again.

“About someone I care a lot about. They were being mean, called them some disgusting shit, made assumptions about them without knowing them. They-“ Steve looks at Dustin, obviously contemplating whether to say out loud what’s on his mind.

   “They said these things like, how someone should teach them a lesson. To, uh, to set them straight.”

Steve swallows thickly, and the shuddering inhale tells Eddie that he’s trying his best not to break. That whatever it is he’s trying to say really gets to him.

Eddie is confused; he has a feeling that there’s more to Steve’s words. Like, maybe he doesn’t want to alert Dustin with the harsh reality of what they really meant.

    ‘Teach them a lesson’, the words echo in Eddie’s mind, ‘Set them straight.’

And suddenly, it dawns on him.

Suddenly, he understands what Steve is trying to say.

Did they- this is about Robin, right? Steve said they were talking shit about someone he cares a lot about.

Did these fuckers, whoever they might be, threaten to harm her for being... a lesbian? Is that it? It must be, right? It’s the only thing that makes sense, would explain why he’s all choked-up about it because everyone knows how deep their friendship is. How much Steve cares for Robin.

Fucking small-minded small-town dickheads and their outdated view on how things should be. God, Eddie hates it. Hates everything about them being stuck in a town where people still have to be afraid of openly showing who they are and who they love.

It’s why he never had a relationship. Why he flees to Indy and beyond on the weekends, whenever he’s desperate enough. He’ll never find love as long as he’s stuck here – for multiple reasons.

Robin is so much braver than him. Said fuck it a few weeks ago when she finally found the courage to ask out that girl she’s had a crush on forever. It was the talk of town the next day – ‘Did you hear that? Someone saw that Buckley girl kiss another girl! Can you believe that? What a disgrace. Displaying this filthy behaviour without any shame.’

Fucking assholes.

Thankfully, like with most gossip, people eventually lost interest and moved on to whatever next thing it was they found to deflect from their own miserable lives. But the damage had already been done. Ever since, Robin has been walking around with a big, fat, neon sign on her forehead, saying ‘I’m queer and proud’ – which should be liberating, a cause for celebration, but it’s not.

Not here, anyway.

   “Eddie?”

The warmth of Steve’s palm on his arm brings him back.

   “Huh? What? What is it?”

   “You, uh... kinda zoned out there for a moment. Are you okay?”

This startles a laugh out of him. Of course, Steve would ask him if he’s okay, when he’s the one with a swollen face. Typical.

   “Yeah, sorry. It’s just- tell me who.”

   “What?”

   “Who where those guys. I’m feeling petty and I haven’t been in a fight for a while.”

Eddie wiggles his brows at Steve and grins, makes it sound like a joke. But Steve must see the rage in his eyes, must sense that he means it because there’s suddenly so much worry in his eyes, the kind of honest concern that makes Eddie’s heart melt.

   “I don’t- No, Eddie. I won’t tell you. You need to stay away from those guys! That’s what they’d want and I don’t want anything to happen to you!”

Steve seems frantic, like the mere thought of Eddie getting into a fight with them is making him panic.

But why would he-

      “They’re a bunch of assholes! And I told them, if they ever dare to lay a hand on you, they’ll wish they’d finish what they started today. I will not let some intolerant bigots hurt you!”

    Oh.

This has never been about Robin, has it?

They’ve been talking shit about Eddie.

And Steve-

   “Why would you get into a fight over me?!”

Eddie jumps off the sofa, both hands in his hair, tugging roughly at his own curls.

   “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?” Steve replies sounding perplexed. “I care about you, Eddie! And it’s not okay that these- these fuckers think that only because you’re- only because you are who you are, it’s okay to treat you like that. Doesn’t matter if it’s behind your back or to your face!���

Steve takes a deep breath trying to calm his voice.

“To say shit like they’re going to do- bad things to you? How can I stand there and listen to that and do nothing?”

This is too much for Eddie. It’s too much for so many reasons, most of which he’s not ready to explain.

The worst and most important one, though, is that Steve’s face is covered in bruises because he was protecting Eddie. Steve got into a fight because someone threatened to hurt Eddie and in return, got hurt because of him.

   “Well, look where that got you! You don’t have to always be the hero, Steve.” It’s not meant as an insult, although it must sound like one.

“I’m used to people talking shit about me. I can live with that.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something but Eddie beats him to it.

   “What I can’t live with, is knowing that you could’ve gotten seriously injured because you were trying to defend me.”

Dustin stays uncharacteristically quiet the whole time, just alternates his gaze between Steve and Eddie, stunned into silence by whatever weird scene it is that’s unravelling before his eyes.

Eddie can’t blame him, can’t really wrap his head around any of it himself.

Why are they shouting? What are they even arguing about? And why the fuck is Steve suddenly so close? Why is he holding his hands? And why does he look at him like he-

   “Steve, I really appreciate you looking out for me, okay? But I can’t take it to see you get hurt. You’re face is too pretty to be covered in blood.”

Eddie huffs out a tentative laugh and to his relief, Steve does too, but not without rolling his eyes in fake annoyance at Eddie’s cheesy line.

   “Are you guys gonna make out now?”

They both turn around only to find Dustin standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face.

   “Because as much I love you, I think there are some things my innocent eyes do not have to see.”

   “Shut up you little shit!” Eddie scolds him but does so with a smile on his lips because-

Because Dustin might be onto something here. Or at least that’s what it feels like. Because Steve still hasn’t let go of his hands. And while Eddie is trying his best not to completely drown in Steve’s eyes by looking at Dustin instead, he can still feel Steve’s eyes on him.

And when he turns back, Steve has this fond, almost loving look on his face; an expression so soft not even the swollen nose or the dried blood can take away from the beauty of it.

Just for a moment, Eddie allows himself to dream. To wonder if maybe he can find love in this godforsaken town after all. Thinks, foolishly, that if Robin can have her happy ending, maybe he can, too.

   “For real, guys. The tension is killing me. Can you either speed this up or take it somewhere else because I can’t take it.”

   “Get used to it, shithead,” Steve says without looking at him, eyes still trained on Eddie.

   “Yeah, Dusty. Get used to it because I’m gonna be so annoying once your babysitter’s face is all healed up,” Eddie teasingly agrees, ignoring Dustin’s defeated sigh.

   “Does that mean you want to kiss me?” Steve asks a little breathless.

Eddie leans closer to him and whispers “Want nothing more. But I wouldn’t want our first kiss to hurt so it’s gotta wait. And you need to keep your pretty face out of trouble. Understood?”

He doesn’t know where this sudden rush of bravery is coming from but he takes it, needs it because-

   “I might be a little bit in love with you, Stevie. So I need you take better care of yourself, okay? I can’t let you get hurt.”

Somewhere in the room, Dustin is making fake gagging noises but Eddie’s focus is set on Steve who looks like he’s in trance, like he can’t believe what Eddie just told him.

   “I will, promise,” he finally says and sure, Eddie might have hoped for a little love confession in return for his own but he doesn’t need Steve to say it to know that this isn’t a one-sided crush.

And he’ll make damn sure Steve keeps his promise because he really wants that kiss as soon as possible.

[rosemaze-reveries]

During an interview, the manor guests suddenly get a question about you.

this is def an experimental format!! i got this idea while reading the character letters. in the POV of an unknown interviewer (not reader). reader uses they/them.

🔗⚰️📰🔮❤️‍🩹💉🌪️✂️🍀🩰🔫🪡🤹🧲🦋🐍

Q. Could you describe your relationship with (Y/N)?

🔗 Ada - "Yes, that's my lover. I would say our relationship falls within the typical scope of that sort of thing. Of course, I believe we share something special, but everyone does when they're in love, don't they?" She covers all her bases in one decisive breath, leaving little room for me to comment.

⚰️ Aesop sits perfectly upright, fingers threaded at his knees. His eyes drift to the side and he seems to begin speaking mid-thought. "I had... cautioned myself not to upset their perception of me," he explains. "But they pried, and stayed, regardless of what they found... For that, I'm grateful."

📰 Alice has kept a sharp eye on me the entire time, but it's at this question that she drops the formalities. "I wasn't aware you would be prying into my personal affairs. Where did you learn that name?" Her frankness pins me in place. For some reason, I end up apologizing.

🔮 Eli can't help a sheepish smile from blooming across his face. "Well, truthfully... I don't use this term lightly, but they might be the love of my life." He has been consistently grounded with his responses, so I'm surprised to catch him flustered, however subtle it is. Personally, I'm touched.

❤️‍🩹 Emil considers for a moment. He doesn't meet me in the eye, instead pinning his gaze on nowhere in particular. A faint smile ghosts his lips. After a while, he answers, simply, "Safe."

💉 Emily's hands are folded neatly on her lap. At the mention of that name, her shoulders tense, but she otherwise maintains her composure. "Someone I trust." Her answer is vague and cautious, but acceptable. I'll try to uncover a deeper meaning behind that 'trust'.

🌪️ Ithaqua - "Mine." He is curt and to the point. Yours? I echo, hoping he'll elaborate. His head tilts to the side, and while I can't see the face behind his mask, a sense of dread suddenly overcomes me. I decide not to press further.

✂️ Jack stretches out his hand of blades, flexing each finger in front of him. I can't deny the cold sweat that drips down my spine just by being in his presence. "May I respond with a question of my own?" he says to me. "Suppose a butterfly loses its way, and winds up caught in a spider's web. Wouldn't you agree that the more it writhes and struggles, the more exhilarated the spider becomes?" I don't have the courage to hear out the rest of this analogy.

🍀 Lucky - "I've always been known as a pretty lucky guy, but the luckiest day of my life was when I met them! I remember it was the—" He drags me down a long-winded story about their life together. I get the idea. Eventually I'm forced to cut him off.

🩰 Margaretha twirls a curl of hair, a meek blush dusting her cheeks. "Have you ever been in love before? You're never prepared for the magic of it all. I feel a new rush with them everyday. I know, realistically, all good things come to an end, so I tried to remind myself to expect the worst, but they've proven over and over that... I'll never feel safer than in their arms." After rambling for some time, a look of surprise flashes across her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go off like that. Oh, but I've just never met someone who feels so much like true love before."

🔫 Martha doesn't miss a beat. "Sorry, I don't know anyone by that name." I look down to double-check the name written in her file. Her watchful gaze follows my line of sight. Are you sure? I try. "Must've been some confusion somewhere," she insists. The next day, I realize all my files on her and (Y/N) have gone missing.

🪡 Matthias - "Wh-What?" he starts, but keeps going before I can repeat the question. "Oh, uh, an ally, I guess." Well, I gathered that much. When I press for more details, his head sinks low, fingers grasping at the armrest. "I don't know what they saw in me. Was it out of pity?"

🤹 Mike's eyes light up and he blinds me with a contagious smile. "(Y/N)'s a sneaky one, and I mean it—they've got me under the trickiest spell of all. Guess what happens every time I think about them?" Egged on by his grin, I take the bait. You get lovesick? I guess. Suddenly, he tosses a handful of butterfly glitter in my face. "I get butterflies!" Very funny, I sigh, exasperated with these carnies. Why did he have that on hand in the first place?

🧲 Norton leans back in his chair, scowling. "What's that got to do with anything?" He snaps a couple times in my face, urging me to "stay on topic." It's hard to say if this question struck a nerve, as he's been uncooperative for most of this interview, but my suspicions point me to prod further. After all, it'd have been much easier if he just said he didn't know them.

🦋 Vera's face contorts into a leery, hostile glower. "Why do you ask that?" Before I can say anything to mitigate the rising tension, she catches herself, and her expression softens slightly. "I'm sorry. That's... someone quite dear to me, so your question took me by surprise."

🐍 Yidhra's follower goes pale, clearly unnerved. "She won't answer that," she tells me through shallow breaths. "Th-This isn't my place to say, but I'd advise you not to involve yourself with that person." As if on cue, I get a sensation I can only describe as a hand slowly wrapping around my neck. It disappears when I move to scratch it. Must've been my imagination.

Part 2

[adverbally]

I'm a Victim of a Bad Crash

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Upside Down” | wc: 1,176 | rated: M | cw: car accident (non-fatal), mild to moderate injuries, morbid thoughts about death | tags: panic, being left alone with your thoughts, ambiguous ending | title from “Spellbound” by AC/DC

A follow-up to this story can be found here!

———

When Steve comes back to awareness, the first thing he hears is the tinkle of broken glass and the ticking of the car engine. Everything else is muted, like he’s wearing earplugs, but his ears might also be ringing at the same time? He doesn’t think he fully lost consciousness but he’s clearly missed something. It’s very disorienting.

“Stevie?” The voice is frantic. “Steve, can you hear me?”

He should know who the speaker is, their name just on the tip of his tongue, but his brain is too scrambled to remember right now. “Yeah,” he responds, though it sounds like someone speaking underwater.

“Oh, thank fuck.” The quiet sigh of relief is almost drowned out by more shifting glass. “Are you okay?”

Eddie. That’s Eddie’s voice. Steve was driving Eddie home.

The realization sends a surge of adrenaline through him and he starts to make sense of his surroundings. The glass is from the broken windshield, and probably all the other windows, of Steve’s car. It’s dark and rainy outside, that’s how they hydroplaned right off the road and rolled into a ditch. And he’s… upside down? He’s right side up in his upside down car and all the windows are shattered, and now that he thinks about it, his head is pounding and his arm is sore and his chest hurts every time he breathes in.

“Steve!” Eddie sounds concerned again. Steve must have been quiet for too long.

“I’m okay,” Steve tries to say, but it comes out softer than he meant it to. He hopes Eddie can hear him. He turns his head, ignoring the stiffness he feels, and meets Eddie’s gaze. “Are you okay?”

Eddie is upside down, which is actually right side up because Steve is upside down. His face is littered with small cuts, probably because of the broken glass, but otherwise he looks unharmed. He looks more scared than Steve has ever seen him and that’s really saying something. “I’m okay. Just scratches.” His smile, meant to be reassuring, doesn’t reach his eyes. “Do you think you can get out?”

Steve fumbles for the seat belt release but it won’t unfasten. He tugs uselessly at the strap across his chest. Still nothing. He’s stuck. Is he going to die here? He wraps his hands around the steering wheel to have something to hold onto.

“Hey, it’s okay, take a deep breath,” Eddie coaches, his eyes still wide and terrified. “I’m gonna get you out.”

The sharp pain that stabs through the left side of Steve’s chest makes him flinch. Okay, so no deep breaths. He vaguely remembers his side slamming into the car door as they flipped. That must have broken some ribs.

“You’re not okay,” Eddie observes.

Steve shakes his head carefully. Being upside down is making his head throb in time with his pulse. “Ribs,” he huffs.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie mumbles as he looks around the car for something he can use to free Steve. He must come up empty because he buries his face in his hands for a moment and growls in frustration.

Steve’s throat tightens with guilt. He’s the one who put Eddie in this situation. “Sorry I… crashed us.” His chest is tight enough that it takes two breaths to say it.

“Nope, we’re not gonna do that.” Eddie shakes his head vehemently. “It was an accident, not your fault.”

Fuck, they were just in a car accident. They should call the cops, maybe an ambulance. If they had made it to this stretch of road, they must be close to Eddie’s place. “Home? Call… 911,” he directs, hoping Eddie gets what he’s trying to say in so few words.

He must, because his face twists like the idea is repulsive. “No way am I leaving you. We’re right off the road, someone will see the car and get help.”

“Eds,” Steve sighs, mostly because he can’t seem to get enough air for much more. “Dunno if… I can wait.”

Eddie looks at him intently. It feels like he’s searching his gaze for something, or maybe trying to read his mind. “Okay. I’m gonna go as fast as I can. You better not be dead by the time I come back.” The last part is clearly meant to be a joke but Eddie can’t muster the levity to make it sound like anything other than a plea.

“Promise,” Steve agrees.

For a second, it looks like Eddie is going to kiss him goodbye, but he seems to think better of it about halfway to Steve’s face. Instead, he turns to the passenger side door, carefully eases it open, and climbs out of the car.

Steve closes his eyes and listens as Eddie slowly moves through the debris surrounding the car. It’s not long before he reaches the road and starts to run. Steve is aware of every footfall, every time one of Eddie’s ratty sneakers strikes the wet asphalt, until he gets too far away for Steve to hear him.

Then Steve is alone with his quick, shallow breaths, his thudding heartbeat, the blood roaring in his ears, the creak of metal and the tinkle of glass. There are no other cars driving by, no signs of life other than him. Even the rain has stopped.

He tries to sit up in a kind of partial crunch position to reduce some of the pressure in his head, but it pulls at his chest in ways that make him too conscious of his ribs and lungs. Humans weren’t made to be upside down, he thinks. He can’t think about it too hard or he’ll start imagining how he’ll die alone in this car, suspended by his seat belt, red-faced and blue-lipped for Eddie to find when he comes back…

Steve’s next breath isn’t deep but it is deliberately slow. He has to stay calm. Help is coming. Another shallow, drawn-out breath. Are his lungs not working? Is that why he feels like he’s not getting enough oxygen? Don’t think about it, take another breath. He really hopes his last words to Eddie weren’t a lie. Breathe again. Should he try to slip out of the seat belt? His ribs probably wouldn’t hold up to a bad landing but that’s better than suffocating like this. Again, inhaling through his nose and out through his mouth. Is he suffocating? He would probably be able to tell. Wouldn’t he? Breathe again.

He should’ve been counting. Breaths, seconds, anything to help him keep track of how long it’s been. He could look at his watch but it’s useless since he didn’t make note of the time when Eddie left. It feels like hours. It can’t have been. But why else would he be so tired? Steve is pretty sure he doesn’t have a concussion this time, but he should probably stay awake anyway. Even going against gravity, his eyelids feel like lead weights. It takes forever for him to blink. His eyes hurt, so he closes them.

Eddie will wake him up when he gets back.

[hollowdeath]

Hello, I was wondering if it'd be possible for you to do an enemies to lovers with Harry Potter (with smut)? I feel like since Harry's life has been focused on Voldemort, he hasn't had a lot of time to think about things like crushes, and he's only had a couple of girlfriends here and there, but he's never felt such strong feelings for someone like y/n, so he deals with them by having a disliking towards her. (maybe he has a breeding kink? 🙏🙏) Maybe she's dracos sister? I dunno, all I know is that your fanfics are beautifully written, and you are my FAV tumblr author. Thank you ❤️

hi! thank you so much for requesting! you are so so sweet, i appreciate it so much <3 i had a lotttt of fun writing this one, i hope you like it!

pairing: harry james potter x fem!slytherin!reader (18+)

summary: harry becomes infatuated with you, draco malfoy's little sister, whom he's extremely protective over. though harry's confusion when it came to you lead him to hating you for several years, he eventually sees who you truly are, and loves what he finds.

c/w: mostly angst/fluff, slow burn, some smut at the end (oral & penetrative sex with some minor breeding kink). and, of course, briefly edited, all lowercase, not exactly book/movie/canon accurate, you know me !

word count: 14.6k (i'm so sorry)

a/n: soo i kinda ran with the draco's sister plot line lol. i actually had 2 other requests that also asked for a slytherin reader, so i tried to make it all in one! i hope everyone enjoys!

it wasn't until year 2 that harry learned draco actually had a little sister who would now be attending hogwarts with them. "how did you not know?" hermione had asked him, dumbfounded. "you've never heard someone mention [y/n] malfoy?"

harry tried to pay attention to hermione's questions, but he couldn't stop staring at you. you only vaguely looked like draco, maybe more so from certain angles, but there was something so completely different and unique about you. you carried yourself differently than draco. no constant sneer or narrowed eyes looking for trouble; instead, a soft smile, gentle touch, and nervous giggle. harry wasn't sure what to make of you. how could someone like you be related to such an evil pest like draco malfoy?

"blimey, harry, we're over here," ron whines, snapping his fingers in harry's face. harry looks back at his friends with guilt. "sorry, it's just, she doesn't seem related to draco," he says.

hermione makes a face. "i still wouldn't trust her regardless, the malfoys are nothing but evil trouble,"

harry glances back at you again, laughing with a few other first year girls waiting for the sorting hat.

it came as no surprise to anyone when you, a malfoy heir, were quickly sorted as a slytherin, their table erupting into cheers as you excitedly ran to a cheerful draco. harry remarked this as one of the first times he's seen draco actually look happy, a genuine grin plastered across his face as he gives you a big hug.

it almost feels wrong to see draco be affectionate with someone. harry's never seen someone make draco soften so much so quickly. as he's guiding you to sit next to him at the table, harry can actually hear him congratulating you. "see, i told you, nothing to worry about."

seeing him be so brotherly with you was so off putting it was almost upsetting to harry. if draco does have feelings, then why is he so awful to harry and his friends for no reason? and not just them, but to almost every student or professor? it just made no sense to him. harry hated hypocrites.

after the ceremony, harry's heading to the gryffindor common room when draco sharply cuts in front of him, standing nose to nose in the hallway.

draco looks harry up and down with a sneer. "i saw you staring at my baby sister, potter. try anything with her and you're dead."

harry's caught off guard but sneers back at draco, disgusted at his insinuation. "wasn't planning on it, draco. hermione's right, your family is nothing but trouble."

you come up behind draco, pulling on his robes softly. "draco," you say.

draco gives you one last warning look before taking you by the shoulders, guiding you away from harry. "let's go, [y/n]," he says with disgust.

as draco pulls you away, you swiftly turn over your shoulder and wave at harry with a big grin on your face. "hi, harry!" you call out excitedly before draco turns you around and walks you down the hallway quicker.

harry waves weakly. now he's really not sure what to think. draco is clearly protective of you and doesn't want you to even talk to harry. but you seem so kind and friendly, and harry can't deny how cute your smile is…

harry brushes off the situation, meeting ron and hermione at the top of the stairs where they were waiting for him. "what was that all about?" ron asked.

harry rolls his eyes. "nothing. can we just go?"

ron and hermione look at each other, a bit confused at harry's annoyance, but don't push him any further.

it's on this walk with ron and hermione that harry decides he hates you. as far as he's concerned, you're just another draco to him. he doesn't care if you seem nice, hermione's right - he can't trust you. not even for a second. not even if you look at him with those big beautiful eyes, that soft smile, your infectious giggle…no, harry hates you. and he hates draco. nothing's going to change that.

harry actually manages to not have another interaction with you until the beginning of 4th year, though that never stopped the longing stares between you two. harry often caught you attempting to talk to him, but always figured out a way around it to avoid you completely. he wasn't scared of draco's threat; harry knew he was serious but he wasn't afraid of draco. he simply had no desire to be around you, not even for a second.

mainly because he knew you could easily win him over if you wanted to.

harry had tried to deny it for over a year before he finally admitted to himself that fine, okay, maybe he does find [y/n] extremely pretty…but that doesn't have to mean anything. he still avoided you like the plague as draco continued to torment harry and his friends like normal.

at the beginning of fourth year, however, you made it a point to find harry when he was alone and practically force him into a conversation with you. he tries to get away when he sees it's you coming up next to him in the hallway, but you grab his arm. "harry. please."

harry pauses. he hasn't really heard your voice since you were in your first year, and only barely. it was so soft and kind, and just a hint sad as you asked him to speak for a moment.

he turns to you reluctantly. he knew this wasn't going to be good. he's already a little lost just looking in your eyes, but keeps himself focused as you begin talking to him.

"you've been avoiding me for almost 3 years now, and don't try to deny it because i'm not stupid…" you say, your tone of sadness only more pronounced. harry's awkwardly diverting his gaze, watching as you both slowly become some of the only students left in the hallway. he doesn't intend on replying, instead letting silence fill the air between you.

"i know you and draco don't get along but, can't we at least be civil? i'm not like him like that," you ask, your voice slightly desperate.

harry glares at you, ripping his arm away from your lingering grasp. he was never one to get angry at someone being so kind to him without reason, but he just couldn't stand you. you confused him, you made his heart race, you made him feel crazy for disliking someone so intensely when they haven't done anything wrong, but he couldn't help it.

"draco is an evil, blood purist bully. and as far as i'm concerned, you're nothing but his little shadow. so no, we cannot be civil." harry spits at you, his voice dripping in anger.

your face drops, but he's already stomping away, his blood pumping from the adrenaline rush of simply speaking to you.

"well fuck off, then. i was just being nice."

harry turns around at your loud voice, seeing you in tears just before you turn around and run out of the hallway, a few lingering students watching and looking over at harry as well.

harry just ignores them and continues walking away. he feels guilty, of course, you really were just trying to be nice despite harry's relationship with draco, but harry can't let his guard down for even a second. he's got so many other parts of his life that require his attention and time, he can't risk getting caught up in his feelings over his enemy's sister in the middle of it all.

it was easier for both of you if harry just put that wall up right away and ignored his other feelings for you. the feelings of longing, the feeling of guilt…

after that day, you and harry hadn't spoken to each other again. there was always looking, staring from across the room in both admiration and disdain. you found harry to be incredibly rude after that encounter and never saw him quite the same, but you couldn't help but watch him through the years as he grew into himself. and he had the same issue, only finding you more and more beautiful as time went on, from an adorable girl with the cutest laugh he's ever heard to a gorgeous woman in every sense of the word.

harry had a few crushes throughout this time at hogwarts and, ironically, even dated his best friend's sister at some point, but always found himself disinterested in all of them after a while for one reason or another. harry was constantly on edge these last few years and would practically lose himself in the situations he was in. his world would be turned upside down and he was expected to fix it every time. at that point, he just couldn't bring himself to care about a crush or even a relationship after experiencing what he's gone through.

what harry did always care about, though, was you.

not in a traditional sense, at least. he didn't necessarily want bad things to happen to you, not at all actually. he had always kept an eye on you during your years together. he didn't have any reason to, you guys were anything but friends, but harry felt a responsibility to keep you safe for some reason.

by harry's last year, draco had more or less left him alone completely. no more bullying or picking fights or spewing names, draco was now a sullen shell of who he used to be with no motivation to do anything but graduate and leave hogwarts behind.

harry couldn't blame him. he had to give it to draco, he went through a lot. though harry believed it all happened due to draco's own stupidity and selfishness that left him alone and depressed in the end, he still felt for him, if only a little bit. if not for what it did to you.

you had never given in to your family's connections to the dark lord, even when things were at their most detrimental point in the war, you stood with your fellow classmates, and, ultimately, with harry. draco couldn't say the same.

harry remembers being shocked, but not entirely sure why. he knew who you really were outside of your surname: a kind, understanding, empathetic person who brought light to people's days. but still, after all this time, there was a part of harry that still believed it might have all just been an act. he knew he was being ridiculous once he saw you turn away from your own parents and brother, not for harry, but for what was right.

since then, harry's felt different about you. rather than feeling anger or confusion whenever he saw your face or the back of your head in the hall, all he felt was happiness. he was happy to see you, happy that everything was okay now, happy that you had been genuine this whole time…though, of course, that came with the guilt of being so awful to you previously.

harry had been meaning to apologize to you and finally settle things before the end of the year. the issue was getting you away from draco.

since draco began struggling after the war, you two were practically attached at the hip. you tried everything in your power to help your brother, to be there for him, to reassure him; it killed you to see him so disappointed in everything, especially himself. harry found it sweet, of course, just how much you were willing to try for draco, but he ultimately saw it as a lost cause. if draco wanted to wallow in self-pity for knowingly being on the wrong side of the war, harry couldn't care less.

however, he cared for you, of course, so he respected your space around draco as harry knew he would only make things worse.

he was still determined to speak to you alone, so he figured out what classes you and draco had, both together and separately, and found a time where you would be alone. your last class of the day ended before draco's did, so harry waited by your classroom door until the bell rang.

once he saw you exit, talking with a friend, it took him a moment to build the courage to interrupt the conversation. but he knew he had to do this now, or else he'd never do it at all.

"[y/n]," harry said, coming up behind you and your friend. you both turned to him, your face instantly going pale. "oh," your friend had said, looking at you and harry before giving you a smirk and a simple goodbye.

you waved her off and turned back to harry, a complex look on your face. harry smiled tightly. "i was, um, wondering if we could speak, just for a moment," harry stumbles through his words, gesturing to an empty hall to your right. you take a moment to look around you, but nod at him and head around the corner to the less used hallway.

harry sighs as you turn to him, arms crossed, watching intently. "uh, look," harry says awkwardly, his hands going to his head in stress. "just, since everything that's happened, i've been thinking a lot…" harry continues, not able to look at you.

"i'm sure you have," you say softly. your voice is a mix of sincerity and sarcasm. it stings. harry can tell you're disappointed, angry, sad, and above all, completely hurt.

he chooses his next words carefully. "i'm sorry. for everything. for what happened with you and your family. for putting you through so much. for treating you how i did. i let my anger for draco and your family get in the way of my judgment." harry says softly, staring at the ground. "you didn't deserve that. none of you did. and i'll live with the guilt forever."

you're still watching harry, your weight shifting to the side, arms slowly uncrossing.

"i'm not asking you to forgive me. i just wanted to say sorry." harry sighs, sneaking a look at you before quickly looking away down the hall. your expression is unreadable. confusion, shock, sadness.

you leave a few moments of silence before replying, thinking of what you want to say to harry after all these years. you clear your throat, your hands folding together in front of you. "you should be sorry," you say simply.

harry's heart drops, but he's not surprised at your response. he knows you won't be easy to win over.

"i grew up idolizing you, harry. do you know how heartbreaking it was for you to hate me because of something i can't control?" your voice is breaking, your eyes turning away from him as well. harry doesn't move or respond. he knows he deserves to hear this.

you sigh shakily, trying to regain control. "but," you say sharply, causing harry to look towards you. your eyes were still diverted, nervously wringing your hands together. "there's no guilt to be had. you didn't do anything. you didn't choose this life. everything that happened to all of us was happening to you too." you say flatly.

you glance at harry, who's surprised at your words. "you were just a kid, harry." you tell him softly. harry's eyes threaten to tear up as he turns his head away quickly. you look back down the hall in front of you. "but so was i, and i didn't deserve that from you. so, yes, while i don't forgive you yet, i do accept your apology." you say with a suppressed smile. harry also has a small smile on his cheeks from what you can see.

another few moments of silence pass before harry sighs, relieved. "well, thank you."

the bell rings, and harry's heart drops. draco. he's going to be looking for you. he turns to the other hallway before looking back at you. "i guess i better go," he says. you smile sadly at him. "yeah. guess so." you say quietly.

harry gives you a sad smile too before leaving you behind, looking around to make sure draco wasn't close by before leaving down the hall.

harry wasn't afraid of draco. he never had been, but he certainly didn't want to see how he'd react to harry talking to his sister, even just casually. harry understands to an extent, if he had a sister he'd never let her near draco–but that's because he's draco. harry's a good guy, and he'd treat you well.

harry shakes his head at his thoughts.

what is he doing? he just wanted to apologize to you. nothing more. just because you make his heart flutter and are probably the most beautiful girl he'll ever know doesn't mean he has to like you. even though harry can't deny just how much he admired you for what you sacrificed during the war. when you turned your back to lucius and narcissa, your face stained with tears, hands in a fist, harry remembers thinking this must be what an angel looks like in real life. all of the evil in the world at your fingertips to corrupt you and you were strong enough, smart enough, to say no to it all in the face of war.

but that didn't have to mean anything, right?

right. harry could appreciate what you've done and still keep his distance with you. he apologized for his behavior, and you might've proved his suspicions about you to be wrong, but you were still a malfoy. one good, precious apple out of the entire rotten orchard isn't going to change his mind.

the next day, harry's just splitting ways with hermione outside the library when he catches your eye from down the hall. "harry!" you call out, walking quickly in his direction.

harry turns to you, instinctively smiling before letting his face go blank. "[y/n]," he says, surprised, as you come up beside him. "what's wrong?"

you laugh a bit, giving harry a look. "what? nothing's wrong. i figured we could maybe eat lunch together."

harry's a bit stunned. he takes a look around you both. obviously you had been alone, but he was still a bit suspicious of draco's absence. you two had been practically glued together this last year or so, it was almost odd to see you without him.

"oh, sure, um…" harry says, still shocked as he continues scanning the faces around you. you laugh again, putting your hand on harry's arm as you guide him to the dining hall. "just us, don't worry. draco's sick in bed for the day."

harry's a bit relieved at your words, but gets the sense that you think harry's afraid of draco seeing you two together. he might not want it to happen for one reason or another, but he's not afraid. he just wants to be respectful. though he's not entirely sure why, as draco has never given him the same in return.

sitting down at an empty spot at the gryffindor table, you start making a plate for yourself with the plentiful food options in front of you. harry sits across from you, his heart racing thinking about everyone seeing [y/n] malfoy and harry potter spending time together. weren't they well-known enemies of the school? i thought they hated each other? what does draco think about this?

harry started eating his food along with you, a comfortable but strange silence falling over you two. he wasn't sure if he should break it by asking why you wanted to meet with him, and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know why.

after a few minutes, you wipe your face with a napkin and set down your utensils. "harry, i wanted to tell you something."

really? harry's heart could only beat harder. that was the last thing he wanted to hear from you right now. he was already practically sweating from the anxiety.

harry waits patiently for you, his eyes fixed on yours. he notices just how pretty they are in comparison to your skin, hair, lips, it just all makes sense together, like someone was extensively planning a beautiful painting when it came to your features.

you seem a tad nervous before looking down at your food and continuing. "i've decided i would like to try and be friends, if you'd like that." you seem flustered, almost embarrassed to ask. "i know there's been a lot of complications since year 3 when i first asked to be civil, but…y'know, like i already let spill, i've really admired you my whole life and…"

harry has never seen you so nervous. it was totally endearing, your mannerisms, your quiet voice, like a pet wanting approval.

"and, i think i would just really love to spend some time with you. and learn how to forgive you, of course." you add on the last part with a bit of coldness. it subtly reminds harry of draco. but you flash him a smirk before taking another bite of food, and it's like draco never existed.

harry smiles warmly. just a year ago if you had asked him this he would've laughed in your face and ignored you because it angered him that you think you two could ever be friends. but harry's changed a lot since then, he sees the human in you, and he's no longer suspicious of your intentions. though his guard is still up, he's not sure it'll ever really come down, he wants to reach out to you now.

with another bite of his food as well, harry casually nods his head. "yeah, i think we could be friends."

more silence passes before you finish your plate. "well, to commemorate our newfound friendship," you say as you raise your glass to him. harry chuckles. "a toast after we've already eaten?" he asks incredulously. you roll your eyes slightly, a smile still poking at your lips. "just do it, potter."

potter. the nickname can only remind him of draco. but somehow, it feels different coming from your mouth, in your voice. it's not harsh, it's not condescending, if anything it's full of love and care. it's admirable.

harry picks up his own glass and clinks it against yours, still chuckling to himself. "to newfound friendship."

it had been a few weeks of you and harry hanging out, and he was over the moon about it. you two had wonderful chemistry together, he'd come to learn, and your sense of humor was enthralling to him. you were always able to get a smile out of him, even sometimes just from a single look. you both enjoyed reading and would spend hours at the library together, you enjoyed going to harry's last few quidditch matches of the year to cheer him on, and harry loved helping you study for your exams. the more time you spent together, the more harry had let his guard down around you. you were really starting to grow on him. he found himself thinking about you all the time, and not in a negative way like he used to for so many years.

now, when he thought of or saw you, his heart ached with how much he truly cared about you. he thought about the night you two ended up sneaking out together simply just to talk under the moonlight, where you told him everything about your complicated relationship with your family. he told you all about his fight against voldemort, the months he spent looking for horcruxes, and what it was like being the chosen one at such a young age. he remembers how intently you watched and listened to him. he had never met someone so intrigued by his life and feelings. you were extremely empathetic to what he had gone through, and it was refreshing to harry. he remembers looking at you under the moon, and thinking you were truly the most beautiful thing in the world, inside and out.

when he thought of or saw you, he remembered the time you spent together just before christmas, exchanging presents in the solitary of his bedroom. simple, small gifts wrapped perfectly and neatly with sentimental value for both of you. he thought about the hug you gave him as you left his room, his gift still in hand, holding him for a few moments longer than you normally did. the way you'd said, "happy christmas, harry," with the softest, sweetest voice in the world.

when harry thought of or saw you, all he could think about was the care and admiration he had for you that only grew with time. at first.

then, he thought about draco.

harry always thought about draco when he was with you. not that he wanted to, he wished he could focus all his attention on you in the moment, but you were still his sister. harry was reminded each time you gave him a bit of attitude or curled your lips away from him that you were, in fact, still a malfoy, and your time spent with him wouldn't be looked at favorably by anyone in your family. most especially draco.

harry never brought up the prospect of your family unprompted. he knew it was a sensitive subject, but he also knew it would never end well with you. one way or another, by the end of the school year, harry was leaving and you couldn't follow. as much as he loved being around you and valued your budding friendship, he knew it was destined to fail from the beginning. he was everything your family hated and spent their lives working against. he was the chosen one. though he's sacrificed many aspects of his life because of this title, you will undoubtedly be his most painful.

and he certainly never brought up draco, as the idea itself made him sick to his stomach. it was bad enough you were related to him, but the fact that you spent pretty much every moment with draco when you weren't with harry made his skin crawl. he knew your relationship with him was not negotiable. you loved draco so deeply it was almost foreign to harry. the way you talked about him that night under the moon and the experiences he's had to go through did make harry empathize with him more than he had previously, but he was still full of anger and hatred for the little blonde boy who tried to make harry's school years a living hell.

he was thinking this over as he examined a framed picture of your family sitting on your nightstand. harry had been to your room quite a few times this year to hang out, and he was always intrigued by this specific picture. your parents, sitting in elegant thrones with you and draco on either side. you looked so out of place. not because of your stance or expression, but you just simply looked different. if harry had never known, he would've never guessed you were born into the malfoy family.

"that's a terrible photo," you laugh at harry as you continue working on an assignment. you had asked him to come help you, but really you just wanted his presence near you. harry knew this. once he figured out that most of your invitations to "study together" just meant you wanted to be near him for an hour or so every day, he was extremely grateful to provide his help. he didn't mind being around you at all, actually.

"it's…definitely something," harry laughs off, taking his attention away from the photo and topic in general.

harry sits beside you on the bed, your back on your pillows as he sits with his feet on the ground. harry's just about to bring up something when you lean towards him, holding your book in your lap. "hey, can you explain this to me?" you ask, still looking down at your assignment on the other page. "i've read this like 10 times and i still don't get it," you point out a paragraph for harry as you scoot closer to him.

harry leans in, closer than he's ever been with you, and reads the passage to himself quietly. as he's reading, he can see you shifting nervously beside him. your hands were delicately holding the book open for him, still resting on your legs, his head just below yours.

"oh, uh, i think it's talking about…" harry starts off, trying to reread the difficult wording of the section. "bloody hell," he mumbles, frustrated, reaching for the book himself to get a better look at the paragraph. you chuckle breathily, and it hits the back of harry's neck. he immediately gets chills.

he looks up towards you, and your face is nearly touching his. he would've moved away sooner but he'd be damned if he didn't take this opportunity to truly appreciate just how deeply beautiful your eyes were right now.

not a moment later, your door opens from behind harry, and he doesn't even have to look to know who it is.

you both turn slowly to see draco standing in the doorway, his eyes flashing between you and harry sitting so closely on your bed. "dray," you gasp, standing up from beside harry.

harry's frozen. the look on draco's face is one of shock and disappointment. his lips curled down tightly, a familiar darkness growing in his eyes as he focuses on harry sitting on his sister's bed.

"so. i was right. you have been avoiding me." draco says towards you as he continues to glare at harry. harry stands with you, anger slowly growing inside of him for the situation at hand. this is the last way he wanted draco to find out you two were friends.

"dray, he was just helping–""i don't wanna hear it, [y/n]." draco interrupts you. this only pisses harry off more as his jaw clenches tightly.

a moment of silence passes briefly before draco speaks again. "i told you to stay away from him, did i somehow not make that clear?" draco's eyes divert to you, his stare even colder looking at you. you're stumbling looking for your words, but harry's anger gets the best of him in the moment.

"she can make her own decisions, malfoy."

draco's eyes snap back to harry, his fists balling up at his sides. your hand instinctively goes in front of harry as you step towards draco. "it would be wise of you to shut your bloody mouth now, potter. you were the one all over my baby sister in her bed just a moment ago." draco's words are leaking with rage, taking steps closer towards harry.

"dray, stop it," you warn him, now standing between him and harry.

"[y/n], you can't be fucking serious right now. you've loathed him for years. we both have. what are you doing? have you lost your mind? i'm genuinely asking," draco is dumbfounded at his sister's actions, scanning you up and down.

"that's not even true, draco, and you know that." you tell him in a cracking voice, tears stinging your eyes. harry wants nothing more than to save you from the heartache you're experiencing in this moment. part of him wants to hurt draco for making you cry. but, inside, harry knows you would want to handle this by yourself. anything he did to hurt draco was inadvertently hurting you as well.

"harry has been nothing but a good friend to me this semester. he's even helped me pass my exams. don't do this to me right now," you tell draco slowly, tears still threatening to fall.

draco rolls his eyes at your last statement. "oh, do what? try and keep you safe? you're being utterly ridiculous right now, [y/n], and you and i both know it."

harry can sense there's something he's missing here. you and draco keep referencing something you both understand that harry doesn't seem to.

you're clearly frustrated as the first few tears start to fall down your cheeks. "i know what i'm doing, dray. please, don't you trust me?" you ask desperately, your voice shaking.

draco softens watching you fall apart in front of him. his eyes aren't as dark, his fists come undone, and he sighs as he breaks his stare at you.

"of course i do." he states simply, his voice now more solemn than angry.

"then trust me when i say i trust harry," you say. draco winces at your statement. "i know there's complicated feelings there but i love you, dray, and i want to be honest about who i'm spending my time with," you level with draco, taking a step towards him.

he glances towards harry, a look of disdain still lingering in his eyes, but looks at you with an apologetic look. "you should've been honest from the beginning," he insists.

you sigh. "i know. i'm sorry. i felt terrible lying to you. you have to understand it was killing me, dray…" your voice breaks again as you try to compose yourself. "but you know how i've felt for a long time."

harry can't decipher the tone in your last statement, but you say it so convincingly he breaks his stare from draco to look down at you, tear-stained cheeks and, still, your eyes are so beautiful to harry. he looks back at draco, who's watching him in disgust before looking back at you lovingly.

draco's analyzing your expression as his body relaxes. he sighs again, bringing you in for a hug.

harry steps to the side awkwardly as you and draco hug for a moment. you're still sniffling by the time he pulls away, wiping your cheeks with a gentle thumb. harry watches closely. it's so strange to see draco this soft in his presence. not even harry could get in the way of draco's clear dedication to you as more than a brother, but as a protector.

for a moment, harry saw a side of draco he knew existed but never fully realized was so strong.

"i know, [y/n/n]. it's okay. i'm sorry." draco tells you softly, his hands still holding your cheeks. you smile, tearfully, putting your hands on his before holding them in front of you. draco takes them back, fixing his shirt before looking at harry with a blank expression.

harry stays quiet. there's a lot he wants to say, but he waits for draco to break the silence.

"as for you, potter…" draco says, his voice less angry than before but still contained. harry looks at him expectedly. he's easily taller than draco now, and practices for quidditch way more than draco does anymore, so harry definitely has some muscle on him. if he were to ever try anything, harry wasn't afraid.

draco takes a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking. "while my beautiful sister is putting it lightly, my feelings towards you are more than complicated," he spits out, the anger seeping through before he breaks his stare and controls himself. "but," he says, a softness in his voice.

"she's a smart girl, and i trust that she's not making a mistake spending her time with you." draco looks at you with a hint of a smile before looking back at harry with a stoic expression. "and while i may not like it, we're adults now, and i'm no longer a threat to you," draco says simply before his face sours. "unless you so much as upset her just once, i swear to merlin potter–""draco." you interrupt his rage harshly, your eyes cold as ice as you caught his gaze.

harry smirks, but wipes it away so as to not make the situation worse. draco lets out an annoyed huff before apologizing to you curtly.

"well, best be on my way then, don't want to interrupt you two," draco says with a sneer, turning to the door. "i'll still see you for dinner tonight, right?" you ask eagerly, following and opening the door for draco. he nods. "of course," he says simply, leaning in to give you a gentle kiss on top of your head. with another dirty look at harry, draco turns and leaves silently.

you close the door with a shaky sigh, and harry's immediately coming to your side to comfort you. "[y/n], i'm so sorry that happened how it did. i never wanted to cause issues with you and draco," he explains, his hand instinctively reaching for your back to rub it comfortingly.

you're still collecting yourself, facing the door, turned away from harry as you sniffle and wipe your eyes. "it's okay," you say in a broken voice.

harry's heart aches at the sound. all he wants is to comfort you, hold you close, tell you it's okay to cry with him…

but he doesn't, because he knows he shouldn't.

"it's not okay, look how upset you are," harry says, bending down slightly to your height. "look, i wouldn't be upset if you told me you didn't want to see me anymore. your relationship with draco is important to you, and the last thing i want to do is complicate it," harry tells you softly.

you snap your head at him with a concerned look, eyes red from crying. "wh-what? no, i…don't say that," you stutter over yourself. you take a step towards harry, only a few inches apart at this point.

"harry, i want you in my life. even if draco didn't understand i would still…" you trail off, your eyes starting to water again as you blink the tears away. "i want you, harry," you say, your voice trembling with fear.

harry's mind is spinning hearing you say this. he's looking down at you, so close to him, so vulnerable, willing to lose what's closest to you just for him. you're so beautiful, so full of light, and so much more complex than he ever imagined. he's never felt so many feelings about one person so intensely all at once.

the only thing he knows, the only thing he can rely on, is that he wants you too.

harry's lost in your eyes for several seconds before he can respond. "i want you in my life, too," he says just above a whisper.

you smile, still a bit sad, but you seem fulfilled with his answer. stepping back and towards your bed, still wiping your eyes, you chuckle half-heartedly to yourself. "didn't think you'd see me cry so easily," you say, a little embarrassed as you shake your head. "i tried to fight it, but…" you continued laughing to yourself.

harry followed you, still giving you your space. he watched as you sat down on your bed with a sigh, your body still shaking from the rush. "it's okay to cry," he says, holding himself back from what he really wants to say. "i'm just sorry it happened this way,"

you give harry a half smile before looking away nervously. "he was going to figure it out soon, anyways. i've been spending more and more time 'studying with the girls' than i ever have, and he was getting suspicious," you tell him, shaking your head again.

harry chuckles to himself. he found it sweet that you made excuses to spend time with him, even if it meant sacrificing time with draco. he felt special, he couldn't lie. "so, i'm one of the girls now?" harry teases, crossing his arms with a smirk. you roll your eyes, holding in a giggle. "shut up," you whine, your cheeks going red. "it was the only thing i could come up with, okay?"

"no, no, it's funny," harry says with a shrug. you still give him a look, but reach for your textbook you left at the end of the bed. "whatever. can you just help me now?" you ask, still holding back a laugh with a suppressed smile.

harry just laughs and agrees, joining  the bed next to you as he attempts to help you with the assignment. soon it was like draco was never there, and you were back to laughing, joking, sitting in comfortable silence together until you had to leave for dinner.

with a quick hug and a lingering goodbye, you separated down the hall from each other. harry thought about you the entire way to his room, and for the rest of the night by himself.  it's not like harry never thought about you, of course, he certainly did more than he thought he should, but tonight was just different. he thought about what you said to draco, how you defended him so quickly, how you put yourself on the line to ask for draco's trust in that moment. it was like watching you turn your back on your family all over again.

harry had to admit he felt guilty. he's really grown to care about you since getting closer with you, and he hates to think he's constantly going to get in the way of your relationship with your family like he has already. just by being his friend you're already putting so much at risk, he'd hate to think about what would happen if things ever went further…

harry really has stop having these thoughts about you. he's just your friend, and he doesn't even know how he feels about you. sure, his feelings aren't complicated with anger or hatred anymore, but if anything they're even more confusing now. harry knew this would happen, that's why he built that wall between you and him in the first place. some part of him just knew one day you would be trouble.

but now, on the other side of that wall, harry was ready for the trouble. he was going to take it head on.

he didn't care what draco thought, or your parents, or anyone else, not even himself. all he cared about was that you made him happy, and he seemed to have the same affect on you. as long as harry focused on that, the rest was just noise.

a few months later the snow was melting, the school year was wrapping up, and you and harry were still going strong. as friends, anyway.

things became a lot more natural between you and harry after draco walked in on you two that day. you no longer felt the need to hide your time spent with harry. you were bringing him everywhere and he was doing the same with you. you got along perfectly with ron and hermione despite their hesitations at first, even becoming especially close to hermione with all of your similar interests and beliefs.

harry eventually met your friends too and got along with them just as well. soon you were together pretty much every day studying with friends, playing quidditch for fun, or going to diagon alley to window shop. harry more than enjoyed his time spent with you, and felt empty on the days he couldn't manage to see you for even a moment. you were so full of light you just made everything better, and harry couldn't get enough of it.

in fact, it was over this time that harry started to figure out that maybe what he was feeling towards you was more than just complicated guilt. maybe he didn't just really care about you, or find you really pretty, or really wanted to hold you when you were sad or scared; maybe, just maybe, he was starting to really like the malfoy sister.

this came as no surprise to him once he figured it out, really. since the literal first minute he saw you at just 12 years old he knew you were special. he was mesmerized from the moment you entered his life. even through every crush and short-lived girlfriend he's had these past few years, you were always more interesting to him.

it took a long time for harry to come around to his own feelings and emotions. he's simply never had the time to truly work out why he feels what he feels, or what causes certain sensations in his body. all he knew was that your eyes made his heart ache in a way that nobody else's did. not because he hates you, but, really, quite the opposite, actually.

even if he came to terms with his growing feelings for you, he tried to not let them get in the way of your friendship together. you were constantly thanking harry for dedicating his time to you, for spending long nights just talking with you, for helping you in every way he possibly could. he knew how much you valued your friendship with him, and so did he, so he pushed those other feelings to the side and tried to keep things friendly between you two.

however, it was getting to a point where harry could barely spend more than a few minutes thinking about anything outside of you. he brought you up constantly when you weren't around, everything reminded him of you, his entire mind was stained with you and it was starting to have an effect. ron and hermione had teased him for being so lovesick for a malfoy, which he shrugged off. he knew you were different, you weren't just a malfoy, you were entirely your own. he'd never met someone like you, you made him feel things he didn't even know were possible.

soon harry knew his feelings would grow to the point that they would begin interfering with how he acted with you. you already made him nervous just by being so pretty and comfortable around him, constantly making jokes and teasing him in a friendly way that just made harry feel so giddy inside. he knew soon his thoughts of you would start to get in the way of how he looked at you, how he talked to you, and it scared him. harry couldn't lose you now, you'd very quickly become an important part of his life that made him feel complete. his silly crush could never matter as much as his friendship with you.

there was a dinner being held for the last year students this weekend, and harry was trying to figure out a casual way to ask you to go with him so it felt friendly. he didn't want to be too casual and make you think he was asking as a last minute effort, but he also didn't want to be too formal and make you think he'd been thinking about this date for months. which, in reality, he had, and it was stressing him out.

harry finally figured he would just ask you like he'd ask you to do anything else with him, but he also wanted to wait for the right moment. however, he was running out of time, and you had been unexpectedly busy this past week so he's barely seen you. it's only a few days until then, and he still hasn't even found a formal outfit to wear, because he might not even go if you're not beside him.

luckily, harry had planned a time to meet with you tonight to 'study', which, again,  usually involved you two sitting with open books as you chat about everything except class.

harry was on his way to the slytherin common room, a pep in his step as he tried to encourage himself to ask you without fear of rejection or judgment. it's just you, he knows you'll be kind either way, but he really wants you to say yes and he's not sure how he'll react to any other answer.

upon entering, you're already sitting and waiting for him on the sofa. slumped into the curve of the cushions, your nose buried in a book as your head is held up with a throw pillow. harry thinks you look so precious, all curled up with a book, it's tough for him to break you out of your daze.

but harry clears his throat, and you jump a little before smiling at him. "harryyy," you call out, closing your book as you throw your arms up for a hug.

harry comes over and leans down to give you a half hug. he doesn't realize just how much he's missed you until he catches a whiff of your perfume, and he's practically melting over you once again. everything about you intoxicates him.

"i've missed you, [y/n]," harry says before letting go. he sits across from you on the sofa, setting his bag down on the ground beside his feet. "i've missed you too, sorry things got so crazy," you laugh.

harry waves his hand at you. "don't worry about it. i'm just glad you were free tonight," he says, admiring you in the light of the fireplace. you just get more beautiful with time. something about you tonight is different, maybe it's your hair, maybe it's your comfy clothes, but harry's completely captivated by you in this moment.

you catch up with each other briefly, with harry mostly happily listening to you describe all the time you've spent with friends recently and the projects you've been working on for classes. he loves to listen to you tell stories, he just finds you so funny and endearing and could listen to you laugh all day if you'd let him.

after a while, harry builds the courage to bring up the dinner this weekend. he's just about to open his mouth when someone comes down the stairs into the common room.

draco, of course.

his icy stare lands on harry, and his face naturally twists in disgust. he looks at you, and the disgust drops to a neutral expressions. "[y/n]. potter." he says simply.

"hey, dray, where are you off to?" you ask, your eyes gesturing to his bag. draco shrugs, his eyes returning to harry with disdain. "just going out for a bit. need new shoes for  dinner this saturday." he says, making his way to the door as he adjusts his over-the-shoulder bag.

"oh, shit, i forgot that's this weekend. do you have your suit?" you ask, your face dropping in concern. "i've got it. i'll see you later, okay?" draco says curtly as he opens the door. "okay," you say with a smile, waving as he leaves.

harry was suddenly hit with a realization he hadn't thought of before. of course. he felt so stupid not even considering it. what if you were already going with draco? he's your brother, and practically your best friend, of course you'd have to go with him.

harry tried not to think about draco much anymore, so it must've slipped his mind. he's seen him a few times since that day in your room when he found out you two were friends. mostly in passing, like what just happened, or in an awkward exchange as you went from hanging out with draco to spending time with harry like some strange divorced parent agreement.

other than that, draco was just your brother to harry, and though you brought him up a number of times, he was mostly a topic to avoid. so, harry forgot, and now he's even more nervous to ask you if you'd rather go to dinner with him this weekend.

"it's crazy draco's going to his last year dinner already…" you interrupt harry's thoughts, your voice trailing off. harry looks at you, and you're lost in thought. you look at him and smirk, reaching to push his shoulder. "and so are you! damn, you're old," you joke, trying to hide your laugh.

harry rolls his eyes, but you manage to get a laugh out of him. "have you asked someone yet? draco's taking that greengrass girl i believe, or at least he wanted to if he hasn't already chickened out," you say, still laughing.

harry can breathe a sigh of relief. he's not sure what he would've done if you were already going with draco. he had been trying to plan the perfect night since christmas.

"uh, actually, since you've already asked, i was hoping that you'd maybe like to join me?" harry asks, his eyes nervously shifting away from yours.

"oh," you say, clearly taken aback. harry's gaze meet yours again, and he's instantly sweating at your reaction. "unless, y'know, you don't want to, or…i'm sure someone's asked you already," harry interjects, trying to laugh it off entirely.

you're watching harry closely, your cheeks slowly turning red. "um, no, actually, no one's asked, and…i would love to go with you, i just…" you trail off again, your eyes still wide with surprise.

harry prepares himself for rejection. he knows there's a number of reasons you'd say no, and draco's at the top of the list.

"frankly, i have nothing to wear," you say, a bit embarrassed as your blush only deepens. harry breathes yet another sigh of relief. you always manage to put him through so many emotions and you don't even realize it.

"you could be wearing a paper bag and i'd just be glad you're standing next to me," harry tells you with a laugh. you drop your head, clearly flustered.

when you look up at harry, you have a shy smile pinching your cheeks. he thinks you look so adorable, knees to your chest, completely flushed, giggling like a nervous school girl. "well, then, i'd love to go with you, harry. but no paper bag. maybe after dinner." you tease him.

harry laughs with you, but part of him wonders if you're flirting with him a bit.

the rest of the night was spent joking, laughing, and enjoying the warmth of the fire together. before harry left, you thanked him for asking you, even if it was such short notice you'd have to spend all day shopping tomorrow. "don't feel pressured, i'm sure you'd look beautiful in whatever you already have," harry had told you, eager to get a blush out of you again.

when you did, harry smiled proudly and gave you a warm hug goodbye. he was practically skipping back to his room to tell ron he'd finally asked you, and that you'd actually said yes. ron was happy for harry, teasing him for taking so long, but nothing could bring harry down. even if he just meant it as being friendly, as he's sure you did as well, this was still a date in his mind.

and, shit, he still needed an outfit.

the night of the dinner, harry waited patiently outside the dining hall doors with his gift for you in hand. there was a soft mumbling coming from the dining hall as people began gathering, speaking to each other, and listening to the small band playing instrumental music. however, all harry can hear is his blood pumping through his ears as he nervously waits to see you for the first time tonight.

harry went for a simple suit, all black, nothing too showy or special as he wasn't sure what you were wearing. he actually hadn't been able to speak with you since the night he asked you to come with him, only agreeing to meet you right here just before he'd left the slytherin common room. his heart was pounding, and he felt like a young teen again, waiting for his crush to come around the corner. but he wasn't a kid anymore, and you were so much more than just a first year crush. you were everything.

harry hears someone walking up behind him, and as he turns, he's instantly drawn to you. walking arm in arm with draco, also dressed in all black, you're wearing a dark green dress that fits you perfectly, hugging your waist and hips like it was tailor fit. it's floor-length, with an off-the-shoulder neckline, and your hair is twisted up into a curly, elegant bun, with multiple curls hanging out for a casual look.

your outfit and hair are nothing, however, in comparison to just how beautiful your smile is.

harry's absolutely captivated by you. he knew you'd look beautiful, like he said, you could make a paper bag work, but he didn't think it was possible for a single person to be so striking. he was sure he looked like a complete fool, jaw slack open as he stared into your beautiful eyes from down the hall, but he truly couldn't help himself. you were everything.

"[y/n]," he manages to say once you're closer. "you look incredible," he says, his eyes never leaving yours. you smile, turning towards draco with a growing blush.

harry looks at draco, who's already staring at him with a tight jaw and narrowed eyes.

"draco," harry greets him, trying to be courteous. "potter," draco spits out, seeing through him.

you slightly roll your eyes, motioning for draco to go into the dining hall without you. "i'm sure daphne's waiting for you," you tease him with a smirk, pushing him along. draco gives harry a dirty look the entire time he passes him, and even until he's left the hall.

harry can't bring himself to care. all he can think about right now is you.

he's so mesmerized by you he forgets he has something in his hands, nearly dropping the slim box before gripping it tightly again, clearing his throat to break his focus.

"what's that?" you ask, looking at the simple black box in harry's grasp. harry can hear the smirk in your voice, knowing it's for you.

"i-i don't know, guess you'll have to open it to see," he says, handing it over to you. you scoff at him, still smirking as you accept the gift.

upon opening it, you gasp. a beautiful necklace with green gemstones that match your dress perfectly. "harry…" you gasped, staring at the jewelry in your hands. "it's beautiful…and, my dress, how did you know?" you ask in disbelief. harry just chuckles. "you have green everything, my little slytherin," he reminds you.

you blush again, handing harry the necklace. "put it on me?" you ask, turning around and holding up the curls that might be in his way.

harry nervously unclasped the necklace and put it on you, taking extra care to let his hands graze across the skin of your neck more times than what was necessary.

as you turn around, harry's heart races. it's perfect. it matches your dress, it looks amazing on your skin, and it pulls your entire look together. it draws the perfect amount of attention to your beautiful shoulders and collarbones. harry was extra proud of himself for this one.

looking down at it, you touch the necklace carefully, admiring it. "i spent forever looking for a necklace for tonight, and i couldn't find one i liked, but…it's perfect, harry, thank you," you say, throwing your hands around harry's neck as you embrace him tightly. harry smiles, his heart still racing as he pulls you in close. "thank you for coming with me tonight. i didn't want to come at all if it wasn't with you." he tells you, placing a soft kiss on your head just in front of your curly bun. you give him a shy smile before pulling him to the dining room.

it was an incredible night together. ron and hermione had quickly found you both, and hermione was gushing over how good you looked the entire time. ron was watching her with so much love in his eyes it made harry a little sick, but he was happy for his friends. he gave ron a knowing look, which ron just shook his head at and escorted himself and hermione away to get drinks.

as you and harry made your rounds around the room, meeting up with friends and stopping to say hello to professors, harry noticed just how many people were watching you and whispering amongst themselves. you two had spent plenty of time together this year, so it wasn't necessarily a shock to see the boy who lived hanging out with the malfoy sister anymore, but people were seemingly still stunned by the fact that you came with him tonight, and that you looked as good as you did.

after a while of mingling, harry caught draco's stare from across the room. his arm was entwined with his date's, but his full attention was on you and harry. he rolled his eyes at harry and walked away, pulling his date with him. harry shrugged him off and his attention turned back to you.

beautiful, perfect, effortless you.

your arm was wrapped around his in the same way, as it had been all night. harry expected himself to be incredibly nervous and awkward tonight seeing you so dolled up to be his date, as a friend, of course. but he was surprised at how natural everything felt with you. it always had, nothing ever felt forced between you two, conversation and smiles seemed to just flow naturally without either of you trying. it just made sense to harry, being with you, holding you close to him, being together in front of everyone. it was all he'd wanted for so long.

sitting down to eat dinner, you quickly made conversation with hermione and ron as harry took the seat to your left, admiring you as you laughed with hermione over something he hadn't heard. you just looked so beautiful tonight under these candlelights, in the necklace harry picked out for you, the jewels falling just above the curve of your breasts spilling from your dark dress.

as you leaned forward to whisper something to hermione, harry got the perfect view of your chest from his seat, his eyes lingering for a moment too long before ron noticed and started snickering at him.

harry gave ron a look, kicking his foot under the table.

once dinner is served, the hall quiets as everyone enjoys their plates and drinks. some small talk is shared between bites, multiple glasses are drunk amongst you, ron, harry, and hermione, and the laughter continues throughout dinner.

before dessert comes, you and hermione take a short trip to the bathroom, leaving harry with ron. they laugh once they're alone, out of habit.

"i know i give you a hard time, but really, harry, i think [y/n]'s good for you. i haven't seen you this smitten in a long time, not since you dated my sister," ron teases, taking a sip of his drink as he chuckles to himself.

harry gives him a look, but can't help the smile growing on his face. "thanks, ron. but we're just here as friends. not like you and hermione," harry tries to turn the teasing back to ron, cocking his eyebrow with a knowing smile.

ron rolls his eyes. "please, at least i can say she's my girlfriend. you don't wanna be friends with [y/n] and you know it," ron responds, not giving in.

harry stays quiet.

as you and hermione return, giggling from across the table, you put a hand on harry's neck down to his shoulder to steady yourself as you sat in your dress.

harry got the shivers, but gave you a friendly smile as you met his eyes. you took back your hand, smiling at him in return.

while eating dessert, harry can feel draco staring at him again from somewhere in the room, but he can't bring himself to care enough to find his gaze. if draco wants to watch harry enjoy his date with draco's beautiful sister, he can spend all night watching for all that harry cares.

harry's thoughts are interrupted as he hears you let out a soft moan beside him. your spoon is left in your mouth as you pull it out slowly, your eyes closed delicately. harry watches discreetly, not wanting to draw ron and hermione's attention from their own conversation, but he's enamored with the way you let the spoon leave your lips, enjoying the dessert in front of you.

"so yummy," you say happily, your eyes rolling over to harry. he turns to look at you fully with a chuckle. "yes, very yummy," he teases you.

you narrow your eyes at him. "you're yummy," you tell him, laughing. harry's stunned before you continue. "i didn't even get to tell you, but you do look really good tonight, harry. you clean up well." you say softly, your words just for him.

harry's still a bit stunned, but tried to not let his nerves get in the way. "well, thank you, [y/n]. and, i never got to tell you as much as i should have tonight, but, you just…amaze me with how stunning you are," harry sighs, not caring how lovesick he looks as he continues to admire you, a true work of art sitting right beside him.

you chuckle, taking your bottom lip in your mouth. harry memorizes every detail of you, never wanting to forget how lucky he is to have you beside him  tonight.

"thank you, harry. it was a bit difficult for me, all this, just reminds me of home…" you say, gesturing to the grand dinner party going on around you. harry gives you a sympathetic look and a reassuring hand on your knee. you look at him, your eyes sending more shivers down harry's spine.

"we can leave whenever you're ready," harry tells you with a soft smile and lingering gaze. "you just say the word and we'll go 'study' in pajamas," he's only half joking.

you laugh at him again, but harry believes it's full of love. "there's nowhere i'd rather be," you assure him, putting your own hand on his knee.

harry blushes like crazy at the contact, but just laughs you off again.

after dessert the band starts playing more upbeat music, and the floor is cleared towards the front of the room for people to dance. you pull harry to the floor, along with a number of other couples, and start dancing with him. harry's not a very skilled dancer, so he just follows your lead and has fun moving around with you randomly, letting himself be free as the music and other people dancing relaxes his nerves.

after a while of dancing separately, you grab harry's hand and begin dancing closer to him, still laughing and smiling as you twirl yourself around, making him laugh as well. harry starts playfully moving with you, bringing you closer to him and further away, again and again until you're a giggling mess in his arms, practically falling all over him.

just as harry's enjoying the feeling of you in his arms, draco comes out of nowhere just beside him. "[y/n]," he snaps, trying to contain himself.

you look at draco, your smile fading at his irritated expression. "i'm leaving, just thought you should know." his words bitter, examining you entwined in harry's arms.

"draco," you start to say, but he's already making his way around you to the back door. you try to go after him instinctually, but harry pulls you back. "stay here, i'll talk to him," he says, surprising both you and himself as you turn to look at him. hermione comes up beside harry, watching the interaction from afar.

"harry…" you warn him. but harry gives you a reassuring squeeze of the hand, already heading for the door himself. "trust me?" he says, letting you go and turning away as hermione grabs your hand instead and begins asking what happened.

as harry enters the hallway, he sees draco's turned back heading away from the dining hall.

"draco," harry calls out, causing draco to stop in his tracks.

he turns to harry, an odd look on his face before he scoffs. "did she really send you to try and talk to me, or are you just dumber than i originally thought?" draco responds, shoving his hand in his pocket.

"no, i came to talk to you. i'm tired of this, draco. can't you just let [y/n] and i be friends?" harry asks, trying to contain his own anger.

draco only rolls his eyes harder, making his way towards harry with an angry step. "oh, please, potter, you're not fooling anyone. and, frankly, neither is she anymore." draco retorts, stopping a few feet away from harry with a nod to the dining hall doors.

harry's confused at his statement, and draco can tell just from the look on his face, which only makes him angrier. "you're clearly shagging my sister. and to top it all off, you made her your little date for the night in front of everyone here. and, honestly, you should be kissing the ground i walk on for letting you even so much as look at her, you fucking pig." draco's words are dripping venom, clearly having the words ready to spew in harry's face.

harry is dumbfounded, and actually outwardly laughs at draco's statement. draco takes another step towards harry, visibly turning red with anger. "don't make me fucking kill you, i'd hate to hurt my sister's feelings like that." 

harry just continues to chuckle, his arms crossing. "well, as flattered as i am that you think she'd shag me, we're just friends. really." harry informs him, a smirk on his face.

draco looks at him confused, his expression falling for only a moment before returning. "well then, you still clearly like her. and you're not very good at hiding it, either." he says, his voice faltering as he steps back.

harry can't disagree with him there. as much as he hates draco, he's not going to lie to him and say he doesn't have feelings for his sister when he knows he does. it's just not right.

"and so what if i do, huh? it's our last month of classes, malfoy. after this you'll never hear her talk about me again. is that what you want? because that's what's going to happen." harry says, his anger seeping through again as he admits what he believes to be true.

draco is in even more disbelief than before. he just looks at harry like he's joking. "are you being serious or are you trying to fuck with me?" he asks, examining harry from head to toe.

harry's even more confused. "what?"

draco turns away, chuckling to himself in both disbelief and anger. "i was right, you are dumber than i thought," he starts out, giving harry a look before turning away again. harry's hands ball into fists before he releases them, letting out an angry huff.

"[y/n]'s clearly all over you, spending all her time with you, you're all she ever bloody talks about anymore, fucking hell i thought you were shagging her, for god's sake," draco rants, his back still turned to harry. "she's been obsessed with you since we were kids. all she ever asked me, 'what's harry like, draco? is harry potter really that brave, draco?' blah blah blah," draco mocks you in a high pitched voice.

"and just when i thought she had found some sense in her and loathed you along with me for a few years, you trapped her again with your fucking namesake and…god knows what else she sees in you," draco sneers back at harry, turning to him once again.

"so yeah, excuse me while i watch my baby sister, my only solace in this lifetime, practically throw herself all over you at this pathetic party," draco gestures back to the room, his eyes cold as ice as he continues staring through harry.

harry's stunned by draco's outburst, but is more stunned that he thinks you may like harry back.

they stand there for a moment, examining each other, draco breathing heavily and unevenly as he tries to regain his composure.

harry's not sure exactly what he should say to him in this moment, so he just speaks the truth, the only thing he knows. "i care about [y/n], draco,"

draco rolls his eyes for another time. "no, really, draco. i do, and i have this whole time. i don't know if she feels the same, but, quite honestly, i don't care. all i know is that she makes me happy, and i hope i can do the same for her. that's all." harry tells draco, his eyes searching for a response.

draco just watches harry for a moment, his expression unreadable as he finds the words to respond.

he sighs, his body language completely shifting as he turns away from harry, his hand covering his face in distress. "you're an idiot if you think she doesn't. she turned her back on us, on me, because she was fighting for you. she was never like my parents." draco says softly, his anger fading.

"she was fighting for what was right." harry reminds him, making draco laugh sarcastically as he moves on.

"you know, she's the only thing i care about. the only person i not only tolerate, but actually love." draco says even softer before turning to scowl at harry again. "when she chose you that day, i wasn't surprised. i wasn't even mad. [y/n]'s always been that way. it's part of the reason why i keep her so close to me." draco's words are the nicest they've been directed at harry all night.

"now i know you wouldn't understand family love, potter," draco smirks, causing harry to bite his tongue. "but that girl is everything to me. when she trusts you, when she believes in you, when she turned her back to me in hopes i could see what she sees in you…" draco trails off a bit before turning away again.

"i know she's right."

harry's more than shocked at draco's words. he can barely process his sentiment before draco continues talking, making his way down the hall.

"so, again, i may not like it, but i'll try to be civil. if you, just, please, potter," draco turns one last time, a slight smirk on his face. "for my sake. just ask the damn girl on a date so she'll shut the hell up about it."

with that, draco's gone and around the corner, out of harry's sight.

harry's left alone with his thoughts, the muffled music from the dining hall filling the air around him.

he can hardly comprehend what draco's just told him, both about you and about his belief in harry. but mostly when it comes to you.

you. alone in the dining hall.

just as harry turns, you're opening the door, your sweet face twisted with worry as you search the halls behind him. "where's draco?" you ask urgently, making your way out of the doorway as it closes behind you.

harry's hands go to your shoulders, and you look at him. he smiles down at you, his mind spinning as he examines your beautiful face still pointed with concern.

"he's fine. we talked."

you give harry another shocked look like earlier, your mouth slightly open. "you and draco?" you ask in disbelief.

harry just chuckles at you, looking you up and down again to fully appreciate just how good you looked in front of him. "have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?" harry asks, his eyes still wandering. knowing you seem to like him as well, harry takes this opportunity to test the waters with you.

you instantly blush, but you give harry a knowing look. "yes, harry. now, what did you talk about?" you ask suspiciously.

harry, again, just chuckles, pulling you to his side as he turns to the hall. "let's get out of here, hm?" he asks, already leading you away.

"oh, but, hermione and ron?" you ask suddenly, gesturing back to the party. harry shakes his head. "they won't mind."

you're a bit confused as harry continues to lead you towards the gryffindor common room, but he distracts you with plenty of compliments and questions asking if you enjoyed yourself tonight.

harry then leads you to his room where his nerves finally hit him. he had been confident until now, but it was make or break  time. if draco was right and you did actually like harry, he was finally ready to make his move.

what that move was exactly, he's not sure.

but again, things with you are so natural, and once you close the door, it only feels right for harry to come up to you against the doorway. he smiles down at you, a nervous, blushing, beautiful angel just within his grasp.

without thinking, harry's mouth does the talking for him.

"[y/n]," he starts, his heart racing as you look up at him innocently. "can i kiss you?"

you're clearly shocked by his question, but don't miss the chance to eagerly nod your head, already leaning towards harry. he smiles, gently pushing you against the door as his lips finally lock with yours.

the kiss is urgent, needy, but full of longing and love. your hands find their way to harry's neck instantly, and his continue to linger against your shoulders. your body arches into his, clearly already wanting more just from a short kiss.

harry isn't stopping anytime soon though, as he's thought of this moment longer than he's planned to ask you to dinner tonight.

he savors everything about your kiss. your enchanting smell, the softness of your lips, the moans rumbling from the back of your throat; all of it is driving him crazy, but he's insistent on enjoying the moment for what it simply was. a kiss he's wanted so long from a beautiful girl he thought he could never have.

however, you're not as keen on savoring anything as you only become more desperate under harry's lips. your tongue is quickly involved, though harry's not complaining as you explore his mouth with hunger.

he's a bit flustered at your boldness, but isn't afraid of it. if anything harry only enjoys seeing you quickly submit to your desire for him. he wasn't sure how this would go, but clearly you've wanted this as badly as he has, if not even worse.

his hands finally begin to wander as he traces your collarbones lightly, his fingers running over the jewels of the necklace he bought you. "look so pretty in my gift," harry tells you between kissing you. you moan in response, your hips finding harry's as you only bring him closer to you.

before long you're dragging harry to his bed, his hands falling from your shoulders to your waist and down to your hips. 

you sit on his bed, and your hand instantly lands on harry's belt, lingering fingers on the cold metal. harry just looks at you in shock. he didn't expect you to initiate anything like this so quickly.

"u-uh…" is all he can say with you looking up at him like that, your eyes already drooping so seductively as you messed with his buckle innocently.

"please?" you taunt him, your finger making its way down his semi erected cock under his slacks.

harry sighs. he wants to, he really wants to, but he wonders if it's too much all at once for you. he doesn't want you to think this is all he was looking for.

"[y/n]...i, i really like you…you don't have to–""i like you too, harry," you interrupt him, a sweet smile on your bitten lips. "i want this. so bad. please. you don't have to, but…" you practically beg, your fingers still toying with the latch of the belt as you bring your pouted lips closer to it.

harry sighs again, his hand stroking your hair as he admires you from above. so pretty, so innocent. it's like you wanted him to ruin all of that.

"i want to, but, you don't have to," harry reminds you, his cheeks starting to turn red. you giggle, and it only makes harry even more turned on. "i want to, but, you don't have to," you mock him, slowly unbuckling his belt and slacks.

harry chuckles nervously, watching you intently. he really does want to, and as long as you want to as well, who's he to deny you of what you both want?

soon your mouth is wrapped around the tip of his cock through his briefs, your warm tongue laid flat across the head as you continue watching harry's expression through your eyelashes.

his head is rolling back in pleasure already, his erection only getting more uncomfortable as it hardens in response to you.

you help him take his underwear off, and your lips reattach to the head of his cock, your tongue licking his precum. he's watching you with a lax jaw, his eyebrows furrowed as you continue running your tongue in circles around the sensitive tip.

he's already in pure bliss, his hand finding your hair again as he continues to admire you. even when you're in such a filthy position below him, you still look so soft and beautiful.

from this angle he has the perfect view of your breasts, and you notice his eyes flickering from your own down to your chest. pulling your lips off of harry, you pull down the neckline of your dress and let your tits pop out of the restricting fabric.

harry can hardly believe the sight he's witnessing in front of him.

before he can try to process just how incredibly sexy you look with your elegant dress pulled down below your tits, your mouth returned to his throbbing cock, along with your hands. you start to bring more of him into your mouth, using your hands to stroke him slowly. harry was practically thrusting into your hands and mouth at that point, desperate for relief.

you can see how worked up harry's getting, so you stop, much to his disappointment. you have harry lay on his bed as you make a show taking your dress the rest of the way off along with your shoes and stockings. once you're left only in your panties, you get back on top of harry to kiss him again.

"so fucking beautiful, darling," harry growls into your lips, his hands grabbing for your tits. you giggle, your hands going to harry's button up as you start to take it off of him.

once it comes off, you pull harry back into the kiss. his hand travel down to your hips as you start grinding against his throbbing cock. "baby, please," he pleads, the teasing becoming too much.

you giggle again, sliding your panties off carefully with harry's help. he also helps you line yourself up with him as you slowly lower yourself onto harry's cock.

your eyes roll in pleasure, a slight whimper of discomfort escaping your lips as harry's hand goes to your face, comforting you. "slow, my love," he reminds you, guiding your hips with his other hand.

once you're starting to moan in pleasure, your speed increases, your eyes locking with harry's as you already feel pressure begin to build inside you.

just looking at him makes you whimper pathetically. "god, harry, i've wanted this for so long," you tell him, leaning down for another kiss as you readjust your position on top of him.

harry's hands trace the curves of your body as you continue riding him, his thoughts incoherent as the pleasure rises by the second. your heavy breathing into his ear and beautiful body against his in the lowlight of his room is everything he's ever wanted.

"wanted you so bad, [y/n]," harry moans as you sit back up, your tits bouncing as you grind down into harry's cock.

he admires your body, your perfect curves, your insane hips, and he's even more turned on. you're already truly perfect in every way, but you have the most phenomenal body harry's ever witnessed to top it all off.

"you're perfect," he tells you, his hands gripping for your hips and ass. you giggle, your hand covering your flustered smile as you continue whimpering and whining, riding him into your own oblivion.

"h-harry…" your voice is so broken it only makes harry hungrier, his hips thrusting upwards slightly into you to relieve the tension. "fuck," he cries, his eyes going dark just watching you fall apart for him.

"harry…please…" you lean back down, your lips grazing his ear as you made your request. "cum inside me?"

harry's in disbelief, he pulls you back to see if you're joking, but you're only looking at him hopefully through hooded eyes, still riding his cock in perfect rhythm.

"are you crazy, [y/n]?" he asks with a laugh, his eyes searching yours for any sign of sarcasm, his stomach still tightening in overwhelming pleasure.

"yes. for you." you tell him seriously, your pace quickening on top of him, your tits bouncing against harry's chest. he winces from the rush of pleasure.

"f-fuck, [y/n]," he utters, barely able to hold himself bsck.

you moan, your hands grabbing harry's as you pin them down beside him. "mm, keep moaning my name like that, harry, you're gonna make me cum already…" you tell him, your face resting against his.

harry moans your name repeatedly, only getting more and more desperate as you pleasure yourself using his cock. he was almost completely lost in the moment before you squealed, your hands squeezing harry's as you tightened around his cock, your hips stuttering as you ride out your high, breathing heavily.

harry's overwhelmed with the feeling and sight of you orgasming on him, your face twisting as you moan his name in return, filthy sounds escaping your innocent lips. he's getting closer before he remembers what you asked him.

"i'm, [y/n], i'm gonna cum," harry says as you're still moving your hips to satisfy your climax. you moan again, letting your head fall into harry's neck as you continue holding down his hands. your pace quickens again, and harry is a mess under you.

"cum inside me harry, please, give it to me, i'm yours, i want to be all yours, please, please, harry, breed me and make my pussy yours," you have no shame in begging harry, his hips bucking as you only grind against him quicker.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," harry's cursing, slightly in panic. he wants to cum so badly, and the idea of you wanting him to breed you just from the first time you're together makes him even more turned on. part of him is scared, but it only ends up fueling the desire and taboo more as harry finally unloads inside of you, his voice breaking as he continues cursing between heavy breaths.

you're enjoying the moment thoroughly, your pussy quivering as it's filled with harry's warm cum. you go to give him another kiss, and he can barely reciprocate.

you giggle at harry a bit, wincing as you gently pull his cock outside of you. harry groans, but his eyes remained closed, still catching his breath. you offer to help him clean up, and it takes a moment, but he agrees, following you to his bathroom and admiring your naked body in the soft light of the room.

afterwards, harry insists you stay with him for the night as he hands you one of his favorite shirts to sleep in. you accept, laughing at his lovesick attitude already, and climb into bed beside him for the night.

harry can hardly believe he has you in his arms, finally, after being so captivated by you for practically his whole life. he's thankful to have you next to him, smiling as you trace his skin, telling him how much you've liked him this whole time, how you don't care if your parents don't approve, and how much you need him in your life. harry feels at peace with you, his little slytherin, in his bed, the moon the only source of light across your tired face. he truly finds you so beautiful, inside and out.

[neiptune]

look at you, looking at me

cw: 1.3k wc, this is my entry for @gojoath's yandere collab! this armin comes with charm and a hint of obsessive behavior, it's quite short but i haven't written anything in a minute so i hope you'll still enjoy :)

“Uhm— excuse me?”

The soft voice peels your attention away from the thick book you’ve been immersed in for the past minutes and you suddenly find yourself focusing on delicate features, azure gaze limpid yet hesitant boring into yours.

“I’m so sorry, is it okay if I sit here? The cafe is packed, I’ve been waiting for half an hour now” a tentative smile stretches rose shaded lips “and, well, I could only gather enough courage to ask because we’re kinda here to do the same thing. Unless you’re waiting for someone” the smile grows wider, cheeks dusted with a pink so pretty as he holds up the same book you had started reading just yesterday on the subway.

A little taken aback, you smile too and his dimple gets a little deeper in turn.

“Sure, take a seat! I’m not waiting for anyone”

Armin graciously lets his backpack slip from his shoulder onto the floor and places the battered copy of Les Miserables on the table, at measured distance from your latte. You fixate on the book as he wanders off to place his order, not before offering one last relieved smile and uttering a thanks so quiet it almost gets swallowed by the voices murmuring at different tables and the sound of the coffee machine behind the counter.

The book is worn out, with black ink stains smeared across the fore edge, rendered thicker by what you assume are colorful sticky notes used for annotations. Is he studying it? Or is he just one of those readers who are the complete opposite of you? Always so careful, almost reverent with each title: your fingers explore attentively, to feel the furrows that make each page special, invisible irregularities that make you smile and bring comfort until you truly can’t resist anymore and bring the book up to your face to give it a quick sniff. When you encounter a paragraph or a sentence that you can’t risk forgetting, the palest trail of a pencil is the only thing you use to highlight it.

When the stranger comes back with his cappuccino, cocoa powder sprinkled on top, it’s a bit disappointing that he simply sits down across you and picks up the book once more without uttering a single word. Usually you’d simply go back to reading too but he has nice hands with fingers that spread prettily to hold what’s not exactly a light book, the afternoon sun is hitting his fair hair just right and you’ve been sitting in silence for enough time to crave a chat—

His gaze travels up from the page that had his brows furrowing and you’re so embarrassed to be caught staring with the same intensity some lurker would have.

“God, sorry” you chuckle nervously, blood suddenly simmering underneath excessively layered clothing, “it’s just… you seem to really like it. The book, I mean. I’m always scared to ruin the ones I love the most but yours seems just as loved”.

He smiles and a pretty blush sets on his cheeks as one hand timidly scratches the back of his neck.

“Well, I mean, love changes things. I like looking back at the things I loved and seeing how different they are compared to when I first got them, you know?”

“Yeah” you smile back “yeah, I think I know what you mean. Would it be weird to ask about the notes you’re taking?”

“Of course not, but I’d ruin the book for you. To keep it vague and spoiler free, I usually highlight dialogues or descriptions that really impress me. If they remind me of authors or poetry I have already explored, I expand on the concept and add my own thoughts. It’s messy and very underwhelming once you actually go through it” his awkward smile radiates warmth and, hell, you think it’s attractive.

“You sure make it sound anything but underwhelming, though” you deem the chuckle you elicit a small victory, so it’s only natural to finally introduce yourself.

Armin utters his name with bashfulness, he’s aware it sounds odd but your reaction to hearing it for the first time is the one thing he wouldn’t have been able to predict. You say it back: Armin. Wow! Are you from Germany? I think it comes from Arminius. Yeah, sorry, I have a Classics degree!

Armin.

It sounds so much better when you say it and he licks his lips by a weird reflex that tastes like coffee instead of the sweetness of your chapstick: you’re wearing it today too, not really one for lipsticks, the dim lights of the crowded cafe accentuating the mild shine of your pretty lips. 100% natural, moisturising peppermint lip balm. He can’t wait until he’s alone once more to apply the waxy consistency to his lips with his index finger, just like you always do.

“Jean” Armin replies to your question with ease, his thoughts are already wandering off but you certainly don’t need to know that as you take a sip from what he’s sure it’s a latte gone cold “not only because he shares one of my friends’ name. I just love that he embodies hope, even in such darkness”

He knows you’re gonna love Enjolras and perhaps even Eponine, conflict and tragedy always, inevitably luring you in. Armin wouldn’t love you as much if you weren’t so fascinated by pain: the movies you usually pick, all the plays you have watched with friends and family, even those ridiculous true crime podcasts you listen to at night right before going to bed, show that you have depth, that you’re interested in the fundamental sorrow and evil that lies in everything human.

Not in you. The pettiest thing you ever did was getting the last twix from the vending machine at your workplace, to get back at your idiotic colleague. You’re incapable of being selfish or wicked and that’s what worries him the most, that’s what keeps him awake at night and urged him to finally bring himself to come out into the open.

It's a little unfortunate: he hates ruining books and had to visit a couple different shops to find an edition that would match yours, hours spent cracking the spine, aging those brand new pages, adding empty colorful sticky notes and random stains. Tea, coffee, ink, the explosion of an old but elegant fountain pen, different bookmarks to make the book look thicker, fuller, filled with thoughts that never really existed. He's read it while in high school, hated every page, each character, dialogues and painfully detailed descriptions a never ending agony that used to fuel his nightmares as a student.

Most importantly, Armin is far from having everything ready for you just yet. But man, was this worth it. You’re more beautiful than ever up close, your voice is as smooth as the satin of the pink ribbons he has bought for you. Now Armin’s certain they’ll match the color of your eyes just right.

“You have a friend named Jean? That’s so cool!” you lean forward over the table, it’s imperceptible but, like an opposite magnet, he’s instantly drawn to your floral scent.

“He’s okay” he chuckles with sincere affection “always drags me along for the most insane hikes”

You huff, sympathetic.

“Ouch. I hate hikes” of course you do “I’d probably just ghost him”

“Tried that. He has the keys to my apartment so he simply dragged me out of bed at the crack of dawn”

You wrinkle your nose adorably.

“Damn, that’s some dedication. Maybe I’ll end up meeting this Jean guy and convince him to leave you alone”

Armin freezes in his seat. Ths first thought that crosses his mind is not a chance in hell.

He’ll keep his friends away from you, Jean and Connie and Eren, with their charming smiles and good looks and lame jokes you’d be too polite not to laugh at. You’re too good for them, you’d be too good for anyone, the thought of you sitting in a coffee shop on your own is already torture. You truly don’t realize how hideous and dangerous the world and its people can be.

“What’s that face?” the silver tinkling of your laugh is a pleasant interference for increasingly febrile thoughts “you weren’t even going to ask for my number, after all this?”

Armin blinks his surprise away, heat spreading in his chest with the intensity of fireworks explonding in the night sky.

He licks his lips again.

[nonranghaes]

heads up! not very inclusive because (fem!)reader is written to have slightly wavy/veryyyy loosely curly hair in this fic :( sorry!! also vague references to sex but 0 depictions of any sort, joshy is just touchy lol

"joshua, oh my god."

ever since you came home from your hair appointment, joshua hasn't stopped touching you. it isn't in any sort of teasing way, trying to goad you into something you definitely do not have time for (you have places to go! things to do! maybe later), but this cute fascination with seeing you with short hair in-person for the first time. you've always been terrible at keeping up with haircuts and whatnot, plus you learned how to take care of the ends a little. for the past almost-year, joshua has seen you with your hair in a ponytail once it grew out enough. and now...

now he won't leave you alone, fingers running through your hair as he giggles to himself. you found a new hairdresser after the miserable last appointment you had (truly, you hate people who are gross about not giving women the short haircut they ask for), and you've finally restored yourself back to the shorter cut you had during undergrad. thank you, people who listen. you owe them your life.

"i can't help it! i've only seen this in pictures," he giggles again, eyes twinkling. "i always wanted to see how it felt. it's cute. you look happier, too."

because you are happier. some people would cry if forced to cut their hair short, and they're fair for that--but you? you've never liked having your hair too long. anytime it started getting past your shoulders was a sign that you were long overdue for a haircut. the ponytail you'd been sporting was just the result of you putting off finding someone new after the last shitty haircut.

"you remind me of jeonghan," he hums. "remember the time he decided to cut his hair?"

you did. joshua went with him because jeonghan wanted someone to record the process, and you saw how giddy jeonghan looked when he was allowed to chop off some of the longer locks. he looked ethereal with longer hair, but you understood that endless glee: sometimes a haircut could be so freeing in a way you couldn't describe. that's what it was like today for you: the moment the lady had started cutting, you felt healed in this way you couldn't fully put into words. like you were yourself again. goodbye, ponytails.

"why don't you go play with his hair, then?"

"maybe i will," joshua chuckles, planting a kiss against your lips. he leans back for a moment, only to reach into his pocket and snap a picture of you, messy-haired due to his endless fiddling. "alright... now i'll fix it for you."

"oh, thank you," you roll your eyes, "i'm so grateful, my handsome hero--"

and so he dives forward instead, pulling you in to kiss you quick.

[vigilskeep]

do you have any refs for Minerva’s relationship with the other dao companions? I did not realize she and leliana was estranged 😭 also if im remembering correctly she makes loghain do the dark ritual? sorry I do like spinning her around in my head and knowing the little details she’s such a great character!!

leliana and minerva did not have a clear breakup in the alistair minerva sense but they did grow apart because of the simple reason that post dao minerva becomes politically at odds with the chantry while leliana is serving its leader. leliana is not a type of person minerva finds very easy to like or trust so while they did grow on each other over the course of dao they never had a simple friendship in the first place

alistair you probably know about bc its kind of the cornerstone of minervaposting but theres a post fully explaining it not much further down in her tag

zevran is her romance <3 i hesitate to use the word “soulmates” exactly but they definitely fit together in a way no other minerva pairing could match

morrigan she has a weird close complicated vaguely homosexual friendship with, i’m sure this is par for the course for f!wardens. they probably could have been in love if morrigan had been willing to pursue it in the start and if minerva hadn’t already gone for someone else by the end, and all that is unspoken but very present in everything about them

sten is i guess kind of the typical high approval relationship as presented in game? not much more unique. a lot of respect a lot of arguing a lot of dry humour. they could hang out in silence comfortably and they’re also both know and respect that they’re very capable of killing the other if their greater purposes ever demand it

oghren she kind of doesn’t pay much mind in origins when she doesn’t have to but he becomes part of the family in awakening. they bond over having their insane shared experiences of the blight, and also over him trying to quit drinking and her trying to quit blood magic which leads to some really wild out of context conversations for the others. and hey, eventually over first attempting to parent at similar times

wynne she has a bit of a sharp relationship with. i think this could vary a lot if i pick her up earlier, but in my main minerva playthrough i picked her up late by which time minerva had absolutely no fucking interest in getting the kind of lectures she grew up with. sorry grandma </3

uhhhh who else. shale idk man im sorry for being a fake fan but shale’s dlc truly does nothing for me it’s unfunny and i dont think abt it at all 💔 this would be written in less harsh terms if i wasnt sleepy

loghain is. well that’s a kettle of fish. minerva spares him because it happens to be a preferable move for her agenda and her way of thinking, it’s not rlly about him as a person at all. she doesn’t absolve him of anything he did, like, she still thinks he’s a bastard it’s just that she doesn’t really believe at all in the concept of justice being done if it doesn’t serve a purpose. when he’s in the party they do build up respect and a weird kind of friendship. he sucks and she’s bitter about what sparing him cost her, but that isn’t relevant, it’s not going to stop her learning from him, or fighting at his side as the best team she can quickly make them, or simply finding him entertaining to talk to. so by the end it’s as a friend that she asks him to do the dark ritual, whatever that means. post dao she agrees with weisshaupt that him being assigned outside of ferelden is wise but they continue to write to each other extremely regularly, mostly on matters of news and strategy but occasionally on the more personal

is that everyone i think thats everyone

[cherry-muses]

tom riddle x gn! reader: oneshot

<a/n: oneshot after the image! haven't written in a while so i lowkey feel like this sucks. ps: sorry i disappeared for like 5 months lol i had to graduate. >

tags: mentions of a difficult childhood, orphanage, bullying, hurt/comfort, fluff

He was sat across you, writing his History of Magic essay with his ever-so-neat handwriting. The only sounds you could hear were those of his quill scratching the parchment and of you turning the pages of your Potions textbook.

As Riddle wrote, his other free hand rested on the table, and you couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that he had really pretty hands. Your eyes subtly scanned them and eventually landed on the sleeve of his robes… which seemed to be a little torn and frayed at the edges.

You smiled to yourself, knowing the exact spell required to make the sleeve good as new… secretly hoping that Riddle would give you one of his rare smiles when you did. Perhaps it’d make the boring study session slightly more entertaining, and the rather bleak winter evening more colourful.

You tentatively reached your hand to gently hold his wrist, and gave him a soft smile. “I could fix that… may I?” You asked, gesturing to the torn sleeve.

To your surprise, Tom did not give you even the smallest smile. In fact, he flinched and harshly pulled his hand away, giving you an accusatory glare at the same time. “I’d much appreciate if you wouldn’t disturb me when I’m trying to work. And I know perfectly well to take care of my own clothing, thank you.”, he snapped. “I think I’d much rather spend my evening with someone who isn’t so dull and irritating to the core.”

“I didn’t mean-”, but you were rudely cut off mid-sentence by Riddle slamming his textbook shut, stuffing it into his satchel and storming off, out of the library.

You were left sitting alone in the library, feeling an odd mixture of guilt, anger, and confusion, holding back tears.

It was the next evening, when you were approached by the dark-haired prefect again. You had been reading by the fireplace in the Slytherin common room when he came up to you, fists clenched at his sides in nervousness. “What do you want, Riddle?”, you spoke, rather harshly, as you sat up straight to face him.

“I am… sorry.”, he replied, voice strained as if it was taking him a great deal of effort to get the words out.

You slammed your book shut, tossing it aside on the couch in annoyance. “I am sorry too.”, you replied, not a hint of emotion in your voice.

“You’re sorry?”, he asked, frowning in confusion.

“For assuming we're friends.”

For a split second a look of hurt flashed across his sharp features, until, ever the Slytherin, Riddle schooled his expression to appear vaguely sad.

“I should not have spoken in that way to you.”, he begins.

“No, you shouldn’t have.”, you retort.

You are both silent for a few moments, and the air has a sort of charged tension which makes you feel like either one of you would be storming off at any moment.

It comes as a bit of a surprise, then, when he instead chooses to sit close to you on the black couch, the water from the Great Lake casting a greenish glow upon the two of you.

“I really am sorry. I must admit, out of sheer habit I had assumed the worst intentions out of you.”

Those deep brown irises of his conveyed a kind of sincerity you had never before seen in him. You hoped to Merlin it was genuine.

“It is no excuse but I’d like to…er, explain why I behaved in such a way. Not justify, just explain.”, he said, a request for you to kindly hear him out implicit in his words. You somehow found yourself nodding, silently urging him to continue.

“You know where I grew up. I much prefer to hide it, but somehow your… constant affection has gently coerced me into entrusting to you the things I wish I could hide even from myself. ” He pauses, sighing and staring outside the dungeon windows, into the depths of the Great Lake.

“As would be expected, the orphanage wasn’t made of money. They could hardly feed us twice a day.” He was practically avoiding your eyes now. “My wardrobe essentially consisted of the worn clothes people donated. And, well.” A pause. “My first time on the Hogwarts express, a group of Ravenclaws found it a good enough excuse to remind me of my inferiority… and throw a couple of assorted hexes my way.”

Realization dawned on you, and at once you took his hand in yours, gently caressing his skin with your thumb. “Oh…”

“Well, since then I’ve managed to handle such issues with reparation spells, but I suppose I missed my robe’s sleeve. Which caught your attention yesterday. And… and when you tried to fix it, I just...”

You could bear it no more, and without any warning he was engulfed in a hug. “Tom, I’m so so sorry. I should’ve known.”

“No, it is my fault, for comparing you to someone who was been cruel to me, when you’ve always shown me nothing but the complete opposite.”, he breathed out softly.

There was a look of steely determination on your face now. “Promise me one thing, Riddle.”

“Hmm?”, he inquired, far too occupied with staring into your eyes to bother with actual words.

“Next time you feel like that, please… please just talk to me.”, you request. “I hate when we hurt each other in such a way.”

“Anything you ask.”, he says. You beam at him and gently kiss his forehead

The rest of the evening was spent cuddling on that couch, whispering sweet nothings to one another and watching the fish swim by in the lake.

[formereldestdaughter]

ok wait i need to hear more of your thoughts on peeta owning a bakery....

This is one of those rare times where I’m pretty sure this anon isn’t someone I know personally bc I’ve subjected anyone who will listen to my rant about the Peeta Bakery Headcanon. Anyway, you’re gonna regret asking this anon bc there are fucking Layers here.

I know this is probably a controversial take based on the number of fics where I’ve seen it, but I simply do not think that Peeta would open a commercial bakery after Mockingjay!! Like on a metatextual level, I don’t think it really fits with the point of the ending of the series. It actually sort of fascinates me that it’s just such a common headcanon because the ending of Mockingjay is exceedingly vague. I think that vagueness invites us, as readers, to imagine a better world post-revolution. A world where Katniss would feel confident that her children would be safe from injustice, where she’d feel confident that her children would never know want the way she did as a child. A just world. A kinder world. Can a capitalist society ever be just? Is a capitalist society where a disabled teenager has no other means to subsist himself (or feels like there’s no other way he can be a contributing member of his community) really the post-revolution world we dream of? Is that really the best we can imagine?

(This got so insanely long I’m adding a read more lmao)

I get that showing a better world is not always the point of post-mockingjay headcanons/fics. Like there are plenty of really great post-mockingjay fics I’ve seen where, yeah, part of the fic is that society like ISN’T all that different or all that much better. I’ve seen that really well done! Hell, I’ve written them myself! It’s easy to imagine how a lot of aspects of society would not get an overhaul, a lot of the same structural inequalities would continue to exist. One headcanon that really stuck with me (I can’t remember which fic it was from) was that Peeta sells basically mail order baked goods to people on the Capitol, sending them iced cakes and pastries by train, because there are still people who were “fans” of theirs during the Games. And idk this doesn’t actually have much to do with my point lol but I liked it because it’s kind of fucked up and like! Yeah! It makes sense! If he needed money that would be a good way to make it! War often makes people rich, often for horrible reasons, and often it’s people who already have capital in the first place.

Anyway, more about the hypothetical bakery because alright. I bring up the fact that “yeah society not being all that different post-revolution and still being an unjust capitalist hellscape” could be a reason why Peeta re-opens a bakery because that’s actually never the types of fics where I see the bakery headcanon. Fics where Peeta opens a bakery are usually trying to make the exact opposite point. Like. Things are getting better, now he can open a bakery! Look at how much better the world is now, plus he’s got a bakery! Peeta is healing, that’s why he can open a bakery now! And I am so, so sorry to inform everyone who’s never had the grave misfortune of owning a family business, but there is truly nothing further from the truth lmao. Like just putting aside the immense amount of emotional baggage that Peeta has about his family, running a small business is an insane amount of work in any context and being a baker especially is physically grueling and involves early hours (and long hours) that aren’t really the best fit with the multiple ways that Peeta is disabled now. (I could go into this more because I have a lot of thoughts. But I will spare you.). I also think it’s seen throughout the books that Peeta is someone who needs time to pursue creative outlets to process his feelings and someone who values leisure and values quality time with his loved ones. And having grown up in his family’s bakery, I think he’d understand the reality that running a bakery wouldn’t leave much space of those pursuits and wouldn’t leave much space for him to have the things that keep him healthy and stable. I think he’d know that the way he is now— after two Games and the war and unspeakable torture at the hands of a dictator—isn’t compatible with the lifestyle necessary for running a commercial bakery.

And tbh with that in mind, I don’t think he’d push himself to re-open a business (one that would be a constant reminder of his dead family and his complicated relationships with them that got no closure) that would require him to sacrifice his physical and emotional well-being. Like I think he might look into the possibility, I think he might even start trying to open a bakery out of a sense of obligation/duty, maybe harboring some idea that this is who he was supposed to be, who he would've been without the Games, or that it’s this last piece of his family that can live on, or that it’s this last connection to his family so he can’t let it die too. But ultimately, I think any attempt to open a bakery wouldn’t get very far. Maybe he'd start wading into the logistical nightmare that is small business ownership and realize it's not for him (because it's probably also true that as much as him and his brothers were involved in the business, there's almost certainly parts they weren't involved with and didn't see, i.e., filing taxes). Or maybe looking into opening a bakery— how triggering it is, the stress of it— causes a downward spiral. Maybe he hates how much he's worrying everyone by unraveling. Maybe having a breakdown from the stress of just trying to open a bakery makes him realize, yeah, maybe in another life he would have ran his family’s bakery but the way he is now just doesn’t work with running a bakery, not without great sacrifices he's not willing to make. I just can’t see a bakery coming to fruition.

I know a lot of fics include Peeta deciding to reopen a bakery as a big step in his healing or include him rebuilding a bakery as part of his healing process but honestly, I think the opposite would be more true: I think Peeta either trying/failing to open a bakery or ultimately deciding not to open a bakery would be hugely healing for him. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way he is now as a person, his new limitations but also his strengths. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way his life his now and accepting that he likes his life the way it is, that he’s satisfied with his life without needing to own a bakery. I think it would be an important part of him coming to terms with the loss of his family. I think he knows he can never have things back as they were and I don’t think he would try to recreate them, especially because his family’s legacy isn’t a business. I think he’s emotionally intelligent enough and self reflective enough to realize that what mattered to him about the bakery— taking care of others by feeding them, being integrated into his community and being actively involved in it, brightening people’s days with delightful things whether that’s beautiful cakes or hearty food or delicious treats— and the things he learned from his family through the bakery, are things that he can carry on in other meaningful ways.

(Do you regret sending this ask yet, anon? Because if not, you will soon. I’m not done yet. There’s more.)

I wasn’t really sure where to put this next part in what is rapidly becoming an essay because it sort of combines the points about like “what do we imagine a post-mockingjay society to look like” with the practical difficulties of starting this bakery but here’s another thing: do people really think that the Mellarks owned the land the bakery was on?? Like, sure, the merchants are the petit bourgeois of Twelve but I still don’t imagine they really own anything. In a society where houses are assigned to people upon marriage, where property ownership and capital are so closely interconnected with citizenship (as shown by the Plinths who, by having immense capital, are able to leave their District and become citizens of the Capitol) do people really think the Mellarks would be allowed to own the land their bakery is on?? I always imagined it sort of like a tenant farming situation: the Capitol gives them the raw materials for the bakery and in return the bakery give them some absurdly high portion of their profits, or the Capitol sells them a year’s supply of raw materials at a premium on credit and at the end of the year the Mellarks have to use the money they made with those materials to pay it back, except it’s never enough to turn a profit so they always have to buy next year’s materials on credit and the cycle continues.

We (understandably) get a really skewed view of the merchant class through Katniss’s perspective so I can see why people come to the conclusion that his family owned the property and, as the last surviving member, he would’ve inherited it. I’ve seen the inheritance thing in fics a lot or a hand wavey “well Twelve was decimated to no one owns anything anymore so it can be his” or even like an almost sort of reparations type situation where he’s entitled to the land as a surviving refugee of Twelve. But I don’t know. I guess I don’t think it fits with everything else we know about Panem that the Mellarks would’ve owned that land and I think the question of whether the government would’ve let him take ownership of the land post-revolution brings up a lot of issues about the structure of society post-Mockingjay that I find more interesting to explore in other ways, especially when, from an emotional perspective, 1) I find the idea of Peeta not opening a bakery more compelling and 2) I don’t think it really fits his character arc by the end of Mockingjay to reopen a bakery, as I went on about at length above lol.

On the flip side: literally who cares!! Do whatever you want!! Headcanon whatever you want!! I get why people go for the bakery!! It’s fun, it’s wholesome, it’s a built in bakery AU that isn’t even an AU. It doesn’t matter if it’s practical or realistic!! It doesn’t need to be practical or realistic!! It’s fanfic of a dystopian YA series!! My unfortunate affliction is that I grew up in a family that owned a restaurant and that I have multiple degrees in the social sciences so I can’t see the bakery without being like “What about the overheard? What about the start up costs? Who’s spending long nights balancing the books? Is Peeta covering shifts when an employee calls in sick? Is Peeta the sole person working there until the bakery is open long enough (often a year or more) to start turning a profit? How does that sleep schedule work with his nightmares? How does that work with Katniss’s nightmares? What happens when he has an episode and suddenly needs to take the day off before he has any employees? Does the bakery just remain closed for the day? Can the profit margins withstand regular unexpected closures? Can the supplies withstand regular unexpected closures?” And if the answer is “Elliott none of those things matter he’s not doing the bakery because he needs the money but because he wants to”, then my question is why does he want to? Does he not get the same sort of satisfaction out of feeding his loved ones? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would rather give away baked goods than sell them?? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would prefer to make cakes for people’s special occasions upon and then when they insist on paying him for it, he only lets them “pay for the ingredients” which actually cost significantly more than he says they did??

So yeah my point is that it’s a matter of personal taste! It doesn’t fit the way I see the series but that doesn’t mean it’s like wrong, I’m not an authority on Peeta lmao.

It’s also a matter of personal taste in the sense that I find the themes that most resonate with me at the end of Mockingjay (and the end of Peeta’s arc specifically) more interesting to explore in other ways. Grief, living with loss, relearning yourself, finding hope, figuring out your place in a dramatically different world when you don’t even know who you are anymore, healing, building a new life after such complete and total destruction of your old life— those are all things I find compelling about the end of Mockingjay but for me the bakery isn’t the most compelling way to explore them.

Not to say I find the concept of the bakery totally uninteresting. I have this fic about Johanna that I’ll probably never finish where the point sort of is that, yeah, her life really isn’t all that much better after the war. It’s been years at this point and she’s still miserable and she doesn’t know how to be a person but by the end she’s trying to figure it out. And towards the end, Peeta tells her that he’s spent years sort of passively, half-heartedly trying to figure out how to inherit the land his family’s bakery was on, only to find out it was never theirs in the first place. They’d been renting it the whole time and he’d never even known as a kid. So he sort of passively, half-heartedly went on another wild goose chase to find the owner and now, finally, after years of writing to various government agencies and being sent in circles and things being barely functional, he’s managed to track down the owner. Now it’s owned by the daughter of the man who owned it when he was a kid because the original owner (who was likely up to some sketchy war crime shit) died during the war and she inherited it (the irony…). He got in contact with her and asked how much it would take for her to sell it and she told him she’s not interested in selling but in light of the situation, in light of the fact that he’d have to build a new building in order to operate a bakery, that she’d cut him a deal— she’d only require 50% of the bakery’s profits as rent instead of the 80% his family used to pay. And of course Johanna is outraged, that’s not right, the owner shouldn’t be allowed to do that, they should do something about it, they should fight back. And Peeta is like. Not interested. He was actually sort of relieved that opening wasn’t very feasible. Getting the answer was a lightbulb moment where he saw that over the years of trying to look into this, he’s built a life that he likes— one where he’s stable, where his loved ones are stable, where he’s cared for and can care for others— and he doesn’t really want to change it drastically by opening a bakery anyway. He just needed an answer, one way or another, before he could get some closure and move on. (And the point of the conversation is Johanna is having her own lightbulb moment that it’s okay to move on, it’s okay to change, it’s not a betrayal of the people and things she’s lost but that’s not my point here!!).

But anyway. That’s obviously not about running the bakery— it’s about the choice to not run one.

Anyway!! Anyway… are you satisfied anon? Is this what you wanted?

Lastly, here is my most important qualm with the bakery headcanon: must Peeta be gainfully employed? Is it not enough for him to be Katniss’s boytoy? Can’t he just paint and garden and bake and hang out with his girlfriend all day? Is that really too much to ask?

[captainlilyuniverseworld]

Love, Law and Laundry

A/N: Teaser from a new Bloodweave fic in the style of a romcom/drama where Astarion is a lawyer and Gale is a grad student who recently started working for him as a housekeeper and they eventually fall in love. Pics courtesy of @papercutstoday (who helped fuel a lot of this and listened to my rambling lol)

Love Law and Laundry

Gale stared at the address he’d written down on a scrap piece of paper then at the large highrise building in front of him. It would be an understatement to say that it didn’t appear daunting, nearly looming over him. He climbed the steps up to the doors and pulled it open, a rush of cold air from the AC slapping him in the face as he stepped inside and made his way towards the elevators. 

He pressed the button for the fifteenth floor and used the elevator’s mirrored walls to double check his appearance. He was trying not to be as nervous as felt and wasn’t exactly failing but he wasn’t exceeding either.  

Twenty six years old. Back home living with his mother. Starting back at square one with his master degree and working a part time job as a home cleaner. Was it his top choice for a part time job? Not in the slightest, but the client that Jaheira had assigned him to was willing to pay a lot for someone to come by a few days a week. 

Apparently this particular one, Astarion Ancunin, which try saying that five times fast, had a reputation among the Harper Cleaning Co. Worked weird hours. Had some weird dietary needs or something. Weird temperament, just weird all around. But for fifty dollars an hour Gale could overlook ‘weird’. 

The elevator doors dinged as they slid open and he stepped onto the floor counting the numbers as he walked past the apartments. 

1501. 

1503.

1505.

1507.

1509.

1511. 

He stopped in front of the door and double checked that it was the right place and pressed the doorbell listening as it rang out through the apartment. Condo? He rocked on his heels as he waited and heard the locks disengage before the door opened and a older man with a pale face, a shock of silver white curls and eyes that made Gale think of bloodstones regarded him coolly. 

“What happened to the other girl? Mayrina or something?” he asked. 

“She…is no longer with the company,” Gale answered. “Uh…sorry is your dad here by chance? I’m Gale. I’m supposed to be her replacement.” 

The man blinked at Gale and eyed him curiously. “My dad…? No he isn’t, he’s been dead a good fifteen years now.” 

Gale winced. Way to put your foot in your mouth Dekarios. “Sorry…I just sort of...ahem...From what Jaheira told me,” and what people said I assumed you were some grumpy 90 year old man… “You are Mr. Ancunin then?” 

“Yes, but Astarion’s fine,” he appeared more amused at Gale’s mistake more than anything. “A voicemail sounds vaguely familiar.” He opened the door wider and motioned Gale inside, shutting the door behind him. 

Gale followed him down the short entryway and holy hells how did this man find anything? There were clothes strewn about, leftover takeout containers, empty bottles of wine. Half drunk cups of coffee, papers and books and notepads strewn about. 

He glanced over and saw the man leaning against the island counter that separated the living room from the kitchen, cell phone to his ear. 

“So they did,” he nodded and set the phone down. “Well, you certainly look…heartier than the last few.” 

Seems like one has to be…Gale just gave a slight smile. 

“Can I get you anything to drink?” he offered. “Coffee? Water? Tea?” 

“Water’s fine,” Gale answered. “Your requests mentioned that you needed general housekeeping, bit of meal prepping and the like?” 

He watched Astarion fill two glasses with water and walked over handing Gale a cup. “Yes. Housekeeping, meal prepping, grocery shopping. There might be times when I need to go out of town on business so perhaps some apartment sitting from time to time…”

Gale nodded and drank some water. “Sounds reasonable enough.” 

“We haven’t gotten to the fun part yet,” Astarion cleared a space on one of the couches and motioned for Gale to have a seat and sat across from him. “My work as a lawyer has me keeping odd hours depending on the case I’m covering.” 

“What kind of law do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?” Gale asked. 

“Family law, though I have dipped my toe into business law and criminal law, environmental law from time to time,” Astarion answered. “But family law is my main coverage. There will be times when I’ll hold a client meeting in my home office. That and the bedroom are the two hours you don't really need to worry about. I'll leave the sheets and towels in the hamper in the hall and take care of the rest.” 

“Home office and bedroom, off limits, gotcha,” Gale made a mental note. 

“Second, I tend to eat a high protein diet...I have a bit of an iron deficiency hence the interesting dietary needs,” Astarion continued. 

Gale tried not to frown. Why would they say that’s a weird dietary restriction? “I’d say I’m a pretty good cook, my mom taught me everything she knows, still teaches me actually, and that shouldn’t be a problem. Are there certain foods you prefer over others? Or things I should look for at the grocery store?” 

Astarion looked momentarily caught off guard by the question but quickly schooled his features. “I try to leave a list at the beginning of the week…I’m not overly picky in terms of food, but if you’re ever unsure you can send a picture of the item and I can let you know. I’m not expecting you to pay for the groceries with your own money, I have a card for that purpose. I just have money transferred over every week so there shouldn’t be any issues with it getting declined.” 

Gale nodded. ‘“Was there a particular number of days you’d like me to come over? I have morning classes on Tuesdays and Thursday’s, but on Mondays and Wednesdays I have evening classes and my Fridays are pretty much open.” 

“You’re in school?” Astarion asked. 

“I just started the master program at Blackstaff Academy,” Gale nodded. “Anthropology but uh…not exactly sure after that...needed some extra money so here I am.” He winced. Was that an okay thing to say?

“Every little bit helps right?” Astarion replied. “Why don’t we start with Sunday’s, Wednesday morning’s and Thursday afternoon’s?” 

“I can do that,” Gale nodded. “When would you like me to start?” 

“When can you start?” Astarion asked. 

“I could come by this Sunday?” Gale offered.

Continue Reading...

[accirax]

What is your opinion on the DRDT time loop theory? If you do have any thoughts on it, what do you think Mai, the Teacher & the past kg/(assumption) the altdrdt kg have to do with it? (Mai and Teacher often exist in proxy to evidence for this theory & the 'past killing game' & the teacher are clearly closely connected.)

Alright, so this one is going to be a bit more of a challenge than usual because, as I confirmed, the “DRDT Time Loop Theory” doesn’t exactly… exist. I mean, it definitely does, because you know what it means, and I know what it means, and I’m willing to bet that many other people who will encounter this post also know what it means. But, everyone’s understanding of it is pretty vague and scattered because no one has ever written it out before. Other than kind of this 3 minute segment of a video by Ocean Unknown (which never even says the words “time loop” directly, it just discusses a major piece of evidence for the theory), as well as this work-around by @/1moreff-creator, there isn’t any document I can read or video I can watch to base my opinion off of.

Therefore, this leaves me in the position of having to establish the original scripture for what the DRDT Time Loop Theory is, and then give my thoughts on how plausible it might be. Naturally, this may result in my answers having some obvious bias to them in one way or another– either that I will misrepresent some evidence because I don’t think the idea is plausible, or that I will become convinced of the theory because it’s tailored to exactly what I think makes the most sense– but, no matter! Somebody had to establish this someday, and I’m honored that you regard my opinion highly enough to task me as the one to do it. Here we go!

I usually like to establish a sort of premise to each of my theories near the beginning, because I think it provides a good structure through which people can pace themselves and know what to expect. For this theory, I think it will make the most sense to create sections based on the basic questions: who, what, when, where, why, and how. Although, not necessarily in that order. Or rather, definitely not in that order, because I know where I’m going to start.

What?

‘Cause, like, what? What is the time loop theory? That’s where we should start.

As far as I’m aware, the time loop theory is mainly based on the combination of two different pieces of evidence. The first hails from DRDT’s About Page. In the same fashion that people found each character’s hidden quotes on their profiles, you can find a long monologue in the code of the text. I’ll copy it here for convenience:

“You don’t understand, do you? I used to be like you. I barely remember, but I used to be like you. I cared so much about people, I cried everytime someone was hurt. I suffered for a long time stuck in here caring about people. I know what you’re going through. You’re going to hold on as long as you have, with hope that you can make it out of here with everyone. Then you’re going to despair. That lasts a while, too. Then you’ll get bored. Like me. And you’ll wish you were still suffering. Anything else is better than boredom. I wish I could feel something, anything else, other than being bored. I’m stuck in here for eternity, and I know everything that could possibly happen. I know how everyone reacts to a murder, what makes people turn to despair, what fills people with hope and make them survive until we all run out of food and starve to death. I wish I could feel terrified, or afraid, or angry. But I can’t anymore. I don’t feel anything at all except boredom. Do you understand, Teacher? This is why I’m letting you suffer as long as possible. Because it’s better than the alternative. I’m sorry. I don’t envy you. You’ll understand eventually.”

Because this quote is found on the About page, we can’t tie it to any one character in particular like we can for the secret quotes. Many people suspect this quote may have come from DRDT’s mastermind, but we obviously don’t know who that is, either. To help us establish the speaker’s character, let’s see what we can infer about them from what they’ve said.

Firstly, we know that this character has been through a lot. They started off caring, then turned to cruelty, yet wound up feeling nothing but boredom in the end. Notably, however, this is only the way that this character sees themself– how kind or how cruel they were is subject to their own perspective. Personally, I don’t think that the speaker is as dead inside as they claim to be. The fact that they wind up relating themselves to “Teacher” and taking actions to minimize Teacher’s suffering proves that they haven’t fully given up on humanity or caring for others.

The speaker also seems to think pretty highly of themself. They begin the passage by assuming that Teacher couldn’t possibly understand what they’ve gone through, and see themself as a tortured Atlas bearing the weight of all knowledge on their shoulder (“I know everything that could possibly happen”). The whole “this is for your own good” mentality also shows them as somewhat patronizing and commandeering.

As for some of the more physical details, while it’s not 100% confirmed, it seems pretty clear that the speaker is or was in a killing game. A murder can occur pretty much anywhere that there are two people, but “how everyone reacts to a murder” really makes it seem like the speaker is in a place where murder is expected. And then, there are the obvious references to hope and despair, which we all know are super killing-game-coded words.

The phrase that I find most interesting in the About Page quote (APQ) is “until we all run out of food and starve to death.” The speaker including themselves in a “we” means that they do identify as part of the group that is stuck in a killing game. Therefore, we can learn that 1) the speaker does not have a secret way to exit the killing game facility and/or time loop, and 2) the speaker is in a physical space, not a metaphysical one. They’re just as vulnerable to starvation (and possibly being killed?) as anyone else. This could be important when it comes to establishing how the time loop came to be and what kind of time loop it is.

And then, of course, there’s Teacher.

Due to the “wants to become the perfect teacher” tagline, many people have come to assume that the Teacher that the APQ refers to is a member of the unnamed fangan (which I call altDRDT) cast. Specifically, that brown-and-red-haired gentleman in the middle. This theory was basically confirmed by the second of the three Christmas 2023 comics DRDTdev posted.

Furthermore, one of the few images we have of him is with a piece of chalk and chalkboard.

We know from the altDRDT FAQ page that Teacher uses he/him pronouns (along with “Soundwave,” “XF,” “Dandelion,” “Scale,” “Bullet,” and “Ice”), which is important in potentially connecting him to the scholarly “him” that Min mentioned in A History of Hope’s Peak.

Therefore, the “Teacher” that the speaker is talking to is very likely to be altDRDT’s Teacher. However, I do want to take a moment to provide a bit of a counterargument. I don’t doubt that our close-eyed compatriot is the Ultimate Teacher. However, I also don’t want to assume that the person who’s trying to become the perfect teacher has to be the same as the Ultimate Teacher, despite the obvious throughline. For example, couldn’t the speaker of the APQ be trying to teach their beliefs to Teacher, searching for the perfect way to get him to understand what needs to be done? I still think that the Teacher that the speaker refers to is probably the altDRDT character, but I wanted us all to reach that conclusion while considering what’s outside the box.

Regardless, there’s clearly a lot to consider here. The people who first discovered this quote thought so as well, and started looking for answers by connecting it to things we’ve already seen in DRDT. The most popular connection comes from the prologue, Veronika’s introduction in particular. Remember when she rants to Teruko and Xander about the (fictional) book Forever Dead? It goes by pretty quick, but her summary is quite interesting:

And thus, the exact phrasing of the “time loop” began. Forever Dead touches upon a lot of the same plot points that the speaker brings up in the APQ. People die, the main character transforms from invested to bored, and straddles the border between relatable and sinister.

We also learn a bit more about the speaker and what happened/will happen to him. He identifies as a boy (who uses he/him pronouns), he’s impaled by metal spikes and left to die at some point, and he manages to apologize for “everything he did,” though apparently only through some level of force. “Everything he did” is interestingly vague– is that implying that the boy was the cause of the time loop, or just that he was apologizing for the terrible things he did as a result of his bored insanity? What forced him into the apology if he was “left alone?” These characteristics may apply to the APQ speaker as well, under the assumption that the boy and the speaker are allegories for the same character.

So, those are the two main pieces of information that I’m aware of that lead people to devise the time loop theory. In case it’s important, I’ve also compiled some of the instances I could remember offhand of DRDT characters bringing up the cyclical nature of humanity and how things never change.

Any of these characters’ ideas about what “always has to happen” could be supported and/or challenged in the future by a time loop.

I also know that some people like to bring up the comments section portion of Literature Girl Insane (conveniently written over the words “the world won’t change!”) as evidence of DRDT being stuck in a time loop. I could explain why I don’t think that’s the case, but FF already did that as part of their giant LGI analysis video (which I will continue to recommend). I don’t think I can really put it any better than they did, so I encourage you to watch that section of the video at least if you’re curious as to why I won’t be including this as evidence.

And now, for a summary of what we’ve learned so far, the basics of the Time Loop Theory. Due to the About Page Quote, the summary of Forever Dead, and references to cyclical behavior, some believe that the characters in the DRDT killing game are experiencing a time loop. The speaker of the APQ, who is possibly the mastermind, is likely the only one of the sixteen students who is aware of this. When the loop began, they put their all into trying to achieve the best ending. However, over time, they became more bitter, first turning to wreaking havoc before succumbing to apathy. They have somehow captured “Teacher,” the protagonist of altDRDT, in an inescapable state of suffering, in order to teach him a lesson about how foolish it is to continue to care about others. They’re a bit of a cynical know-it-all, but their dedication to correcting Teacher’s behavior proves that they haven’t fully given up on humanity.

Basic facts, established! However, this is still pretty vague, and there are plenty more details to sort through. How about we start with…

How?

Because even among people who believe there is a time loop, there are many definitions of what a time loop can mean. In this section, I’ll aim to figure out which I think is the most likely in two broad categorization systems.

Is the time loop meta or non-meta?

A meta time loop would be one that is directly caused by the player/viewer interacting with the property, breaking the fourth wall. For DRDT, this would mean something along the lines of “every time you rewatch an episode of Despair Time, the characters are forced to relive the events of the day in an eternal loop, and they’ve started to wise up about it.” Conversely, a non-meta time loop would exist in the plot regardless of what its audience is doing, and be caused by a force that exists within the story. “After Teruko accidentally broke Eden’s favorite grandfather clock, Teruko was cursed to repeat her worst day over and over again.”

DRDT has made some fourth wall-breaking jokes before, such as when MonoTV directly references YouTube or the narrator tells the viewer to like the video and subscribe to give Teruko power. Because of this, it’s really tempting to think that DRDT is going for a meta time loop. However, given the actual text we have to work with, I think it’s more likely that we’re looking at a non-meta time loop. Remember how we learned that the APQ speaker exists in a physical space and not a metaphysical one? Focusing on the physical space of their environment and living conditions is drawing attention to how the world is real to them, not just a collection of pixels flattened into a video file. The Forever Dead boy also had to “apologize for what he did,” which might imply that the character was responsible for the time loop, not the audience.

Most of all, though, it’s the concept of “surviv[ing] until we all run out of food and starve to death” that makes me think that the time loop is not meta. Why? Because it makes it sound like there are different possible endings out there. If the time loop was caused by me going back and repeatedly rewatching the CharWhit FTE, there’s only one way that that FTE can start, and one way it can end. No matter how many times I make the characters loop that interaction, there’s only one version of that episode posted to YouTube. The APQ speaker makes it clear that they, as a character, attempted multiple things and achieved different results with them until they exhausted all viable possibilities and grew bored. I can only make the characters do one thing, but the characters within the story can, in theory, do whatever they want.

Really, a lot of it boils down to the medium in which DRDT is told. A lot of what I “know” about time loops comes from watching theory videos about Undertale and Deltarune. I won’t spoil either of those games for those who haven’t played them, but in Undertale, the player’s input is directly related to the time travel elements that the characters experience. This connection works really well because Undertale is a video game. Video games are a fantastic medium for meta commentary because player input is required for the game to function. The player can make choices of where to go or who to trust that have an impact on the story, which then makes it easy for the story to turn back towards the player and question the choices they made. DRDT, however, is a video series, not a game like the original Danganronpa. Its formatting would make calling the viewer’s impact into question, because we’ve hardly done anything other than want to watch the show. We have no impact on the direction of the plot.

Of course, I’m not trying to say that it’s impossible for anything other than a video game to tackle meta subjects. DRDTdev should be allowed to tell a meta fangan story without being forced into the life of a programmer. However, with all these elements combined, I think it’s more likely that DRDT’s time loop would be a canonical, non-meta one. Because of this, our follow up questions will be based around how the time loop could have formed in canon.

Is the time loop magical or scientific in origin?

A magical time loop could be something that appears as some sort of spell, legend, or artifact, such as the example with Teruko and the grandfather clock that I provided above. I would also count time loops that just appear out of nowhere in the “magical” category. One of the most famous time loop stories in modern Western cinema, Groundhog Day, could be thought of as a magical time loop, because the main character entered a time loop as a repercussion for his rotten personality seemingly out of nowhere. A scientific time loop would be the consequence of pushing the boundaries of science, whether purposefully (“Veronika, after researching the fourth dimension, put the killing game in a time loop so that she could experience its thrills forever”) or accidentally (“Trying to bring Ellie back to life, Charles’ time machine malfunctioned and trapped him in a time loop”).

Honestly, I’m really torn on this one. That may come as a surprise to some of you– how on earth could DRDT’s time loop be magical? The answer is our lovely protagonist herself, Teruko Tawaki. If Teruko’s luck, a supernatural force, created the time loop, then it’s magical in origin. It’s already been hinted that this could be the case through Teruko’s “you all have the misfortune of being ‘characters’” speech. Does Teruko know how stories like this work out because she’s looped through them before? If Mai is a lucky student, the time loop being a result of her luck or the combination of her and Teruko’s luck would also be magical. Assuming that luck was something that they were born with, that is.

However, it would also be very easy for DRDT’s time loop to be scientific in origin. The mysterious company XF-Ture Tech is clearly being set up for some kind of relevance down the road, which could be a science experiment gone wrong that resulted in a time loop. This could even be the thing that “Unnamed Student” (Mai) asked Xander to dig into.

That might seem like a bit of a leap, given that Mai is asking Xander to look into Hope’s Peak, not XF-Ture Tech. However, we already know that XF Tech had a vested interest in Hope’s Peak through their sponsorship of Min.

Personally, I don’t think that the XF Tech CEO would have had much personal interest in Min outside of her skill/potential, based on how Min describes him as a stranger. That means that the CEO’s goals must have been to sponsor the future Ultimate Student. The entire Ultimate Contest may have existed just because XF Tech wanted to get an insider within the Hope’s Peak system. There’s evidence to show that Hope’s Peak and XF Tech may have been collaborating– Mai asks why Hope’s Peak would even announce an Ultimate Contest, and Min answers from the perspective of the prospective student. But, why would Hope’s Peak want an Ultimate Student obtained through that method/at that time? If Min really did poison the competition to win, the entire Contest may have been rigged from the beginning to get an XF representative into the East Class.

Because of all this, I’m inclined to say that DRDT’s time loop is both magical and scientific in origin. Here’s what I’m thinking: 13-27 years ago, XF-Ture Tech signed some sort of deal with the new Hope’s Peak Academy that would allow them to look into students and their talents, much like how the original Hope’s Peak Academy was studying the origins of luck. HPA agreed for the money, while XF Tech believed that the partnership would help them sell better products/services, either through getting the first scoop on up-and-comers in the field or by scientifically developing talent rather than allowing it to occur naturally. That might sound really similar to what already happened in DRDT’s canon universe with the Kamukura project, but, hey, maybe part of the whole “time loop” motif would be history repeating and man not being able to shake the desire to play God.

Anyways, when they made this deal (or potentially a little while after it), they also decided that it would be good if XF Tech could be directly represented by one of the students in a future class. I can’t say exactly why they wanted this to be the case, but maybe HPA and XF Tech were either looking for a good excuse to go public with their relationship, or they knew that something or someone relevant would come to pass through the school in ~13 years, and wanted a man on the inside. Therefore, HPA put out a pre-rigged Contest searching for the Ultimate Student, which was destined to be won by whoever the XF Tech CEO determined was the best candidate. The CEO chose Min, and spent 13 years coaxing her into the perfect grateful, insecure, and study-focused representative out there.

Whether it was their goal from the start or a new development that caught their eye, XF Tech took particular note of Teruko and her strange luck, and wanted to research it. Teruko, who was desperate for support, let them study her, and eventually came to trust that they had her best interests at heart. But, over time, they pushed it too far. As some sort of reaction to their scientific prodding, Teruko’s luck magically created a time loop in an attempt to prevent XF Tech from bothering her any further.

Cool fanfic, right? While I’m aware that there are a lot of holes and leaps in logic– and we’ll get to those– I do think there’s reason to believe that Teruko is at the epicenter of the time loop for one reason or another. As we were all made aware of at the very beginning of the series…

… ending the killing game is correlated to killing Teruko Tawaki. Therefore, this person at least believes that the end of the killing game is related to the end of Teruko’s life. So, if the time loop is also related to the killing game– which it is, as established by the APQ– then the end of Teruko’s life would also possibly cause the end of the time loop. To quote a wise wizard, it’s maaaagic. The theory that Teruko’s secret is “the killing game is all your fault” also fits here perfectly.

So, it’s not as big of a leap in logic as it might seem like on the surface, even if it’s still basically my audition for being the Ultimate Jumper. However, now that the basics of the theory were mostly established in the “What?” section, I think I have a bit more room to inject my own thoughts and theories in here. I can’t draw any conclusions without making some guesses, and I can’t assess what the hell is going on without any conclusions. Call what follows specifically “Accirax’s Time Loop Theory” if you think I’m starting to veer too far off track from what’s plausible. I promise I’m still going to try to use actual, textual evidence whenever I can, though.

At any rate, there are still a lot of holes. Most notably, why would a time loop that Teruko’s luck created contain a killing game in it? Was she already in a killing game when the time loop began, or did her luck create the killing game? We’ll talk about that a bit more in the next section, along with some other stuff.

When?

Before getting back to the question of why a killing game would happen in this time loop, I think it’s important to establish some of the basic facts that the “When?” section might imply. Such as, “what events occurred before the time loop started?,” and, “what events occurred after the time loop started?” That’s a funny question to ask with regards to time loops specifically, but there are still things we can piece together.

Firstly, we can be pretty confident that the canonical properties Trigger Happy Havoc, Goodbye Despair, Ultra Despair Girls, and End of Hope’s Peak happened before DRDT. (V3 is, as usual, so weird that I have no clue if DRDT will attempt to explain it as part of the canonical timeline or not.) The Tragedy was confirmed as canon to the DRDT universe by Veronika in Chapter 2 Episode 2, and Min/Mai in A History of Hope’s Peak.

If the Tragedy and Hope’s Peak Academy are canon, then I see no reason why those four games, which all relate to the Tragedy, wouldn’t be as well. There’s also the mysterious “Ms. Naegi” that’s listed in the credits of Literature Girl Insane, and Teruko’s reference to “a past killing game.”

Although the event Teruko mentions could be any killing game with Monokuma as its mascot, I would suspect that she is specifically mentioning the Hope’s Peak Academy Killing Game of THH here, as it was the first and the one that was widely broadcast. Notably, although Veronika knows a lot about the Tragedy and by all accounts should be super into the killing games, she doesn’t remember another killing game happening before. That leaves us with two basic options. 1) Teruko had access to secret knowledge about the killing games that the general public didn’t, or, 2) something about the creation of this killing game caused Veronika (and likely the other non-Terukos as well) to forget about the HPA killing game. I would lean towards the second, given that the broadcast of the HPA killing game and Junko’s involvement in it were such major historical events that I would really expect that society wouldn’t forget about them so easily.

Another huge piece of information comes from the Chapter 2 Part 1 Q&A.

From this question, we know that a person who is 80-ish years old was old enough to be alive during the Tragedy itself. In THH, Makoto’s orientation letter is dated to the release year of the game, 2010 (2014 for the English release), which means that the Tragedy probably started in 2011. We can approximate, then, that DRDT takes place sometime around 2090, give or take a few decades depending on how long the Tragedy lasted and at what point with regards to it Duke was born. Not super important to this theory, but it is interesting.

So, the Tragedy probably happened around 80 years before the time loop began. We also know that the school that Min, Mai, and Xander attend, which hosts the East Class, was probably founded ~27 years before the time loop began, because that trio is part of East Class 27. Interestingly, this means that the new American Hope’s Peak was founded ~50 years after the Tragedy. That’s a fairly long amount of time.

As for events that more directly preceded the time loop, I think that both Bonus Episodes would have happened before the killing game, as well as Teruko’s flashback about Mai in Chapter 1. Xander, Min, and Mai attended HPA before encountering the killing game/time loop, despite no one in DRDT remembering ever going to HPA. Rose says in the prologue that it’s been a year or two since the HPA entrance ceremony should have happened, which means that the students probably attended HPA for at least a year before the killing game started. The chalkboard in the classroom that Min and Mai sit in also advertises Spring Break, which, in American schools, is pretty close to the end of the typical school year. That’s more evidence that they spent a considerable amount of time attending HPA.

Now, for events that happened after the inception of the time loop. The only thing I think we know of for sure is the events of the DRDT killing game. That would be part of the time loop, infinitely recurring after the point at which the loop began. I’m also hesitantly going to call altDRDT a sequel instead of a prequel… but, uh, we’ll get more into my overall theories on that later.

Okay, now back to why a loop Teruko’s luck created would have had a killing game in it. I’ve come up with three theories, all of which are… dubious, at best.

Theory #1: The killing game came from Teruko’s subconscious. Teruko’s luck is a part of who she is, and therefore, any effects it may have are based on what Teruko knows and how she feels. Perhaps, just before the time loop began, Teruko learned about the Hope’s Peak Academy Killing Game, whether in class or through shadier sources. When her “magic” snapped and the time loop began, because the killing game was on her mind, it manifested before her. Basically, the time loop would operate much like a dream, where the things you learn in real life come back in surreal ways. I don’t like this one because it leans in really hard to the magic aspect. Although Danganronpa has always been science fiction, letting Teruko’s emotions create an entirely new magical realm seems like jumping the shark.

Theory #2: XF-Ture Tech wanted to test Teruko with a killing game. Their research into her and her luck is quite similar to that of Nagito or the Kamukura project, so why not test their findings in the same ways that Nagito and Hajime were tested? Things amidst this theory that make sense are XF-Ture Tech, a tech company, possibly creating MonoTV, and the prospect of Teruko’s friends dying in a killing game adding an extra kick to why her luck would step in and create a time loop out of desperation. Things that don’t make sense include how the hell XF-Ture Tech would manage to pull this off (especially if constrained by legality/friendship with HPA) and where the hell they would be now. That second question could be answered by, “it was Min,” I suppose, but the first is still off.

Theory #3: The killing game was introduced to contain Teruko. I’m not entirely sure how this would work, but, basically, something else would have triggered Teruko’s luck to start the loop, and then someone (Hope’s Peak, Mai, the Spurlings, who knows) would have introduced a killing game in there in hopes of having something happen. This idea was sort of spurred on by the note that Xander had to kill Teruko Tawaki. Let’s say that Teruko is a huge, powerful problem, much like Junko or Izuru. If you can find a way to breach the time loop she’s created to introduce a killing game, she has to die eventually, right? Victim after victim, blackened after blackened– if Teruko is trapped in an eternal killing game, it seems like at least one of them would have to randomly stumble into her dying. However, I then have to ask how and why the other DRDT characters wound up in this killing game. Them all agreeing to volunteer for this potentially kamikaze plan seems unrealistic given their personalities. So, were they just collateral damage of the original time loop, roped into this last-ditch effort plan? How would a seemingly closed off loop be “breached” to such a drastic extent, anyways?

I once again feel like I’m missing something here, but I also don’t think any of my previous assumptions were wrong. I just can’t understand why the killing game would have come to exist within this time loop. Maybe it has to do with the person who started the killing game?

Who?

Oh yeah, it’s time to talk about the mastermind again, baby. But, obviously, filtering it through the assumption that there is a time loop will change my overall assessments. Now, we have to look for someone with the means, motives, and thematic… fittingness(?) to be involved with Looping the class.

Let’s start with some options that seem so obviously incorrect that I don’t have anything to say. Why would Ace, Hu, Levi, or Nico be the one to have started a killing game within this time loop? Ace’s cowardice already made him seem unlikely, and making the danger zone neverending makes the premise all the more bizarre. You would have to reach pretty far to characterize Hu as the APQ speaker who claims to be incredibly bored and apathetic. Levi wants to change as a person, so inflicting a stagnant time loop seems counter to his goals. Nico… just doesn’t seem to have any aspect of their character line up with the premise of a time loop? Like, if Nico were the character you created to be the mastermind of a time loop killing game, what aspects of how they turned out would reflect that? In my opinion, there are no connections, which makes Nico not it.

Some more less likely options… Arei has some dialogue about people’s behaviors not changing, but especially given her (likely) death, I don’t think it’s enough to call her the mastermind. Given that David is alive, he fares better than Arei under the same scrutiny, but I still feel like the mastermind’s power in this context is more than the desperate, run-ragged David we’ve seen in the second Class Trial. He cares too much, in his own David way. I feel like Rose should be doing better given how highly I ranked her in my main mastermind post, but I’ve been trying to fit the Spurlings into this time loop thing, and I haven’t been able to manage anything. J is much the same, although the whole “TV show” argument still gives her some traction. Although Arturo is generally a smart, scientific kind of guy, being a plastic surgeon doesn’t seem to mesh with whatever science would be needed to make a scientific time loop.

And then there’s Whit. Look. I’m as tired of airing my grievances with Whit mastermind theory as you probably are of reading me air them. However, Whit definitely merits his own section due to one of the main pieces of Whit mastermind scripture (to my knowledge) directly tying the APQ to his candidacy. While I definitely respect and appreciate that aspect of this theory, I don’t buy it myself. By demodraws’ word, this theory is more of a “list of evidence.” The only items on that list that I see directly relate to the APQ are that 1) the Forever Dead character, who may be linked to the speaker, identifies as a boy, and that 2) the speaker expresses grief. Although, that second point is also linked to the belief that the mysterious quote at the beginning of Chapter 1 is said by the same person who said the APQ, which isn’t necessarily the case.

I certainly agree that Whit’s character is the most tied to the concepts of grief and idolizing the dead. However, there are many other characters who do the same. Charles mourns Elliot after remembering his existence, Arturo mourns Felicity whenever he’s confronted with the truth, Xander mourns his family and how he couldn’t do more. (Why do so many DRDT characters have dead family members?) Eden has mourned Min and Arei since their deaths. You can also make the argument that the APQ speaker is more so mourning who they became and how things used to be more than mourning or idolizing any dead compatriots. Rose mourns being shackled to the Spurlings, David mourns the loss of his career once his secret is out, Levi mourns never knowing the right thing to say around Ace. With so many griefheads running around, I don’t find Whit’s connection to the subject compelling enough to label him mastermind.

Then there’s the “boy” aspect. Obviously, Whit isn’t the only boy in DRDT either– as far as we know, Xander, Charles, Ace, Levi, Arturo, and David also identify as boys. However, I also don’t think that the Forever Dead character being a boy is a majorly important piece of evidence. Assuming that Forever Dead is autobiography-flavored fiction as opposed to a genuine biography, the gender of the character it’s describing feels like a detail that DRDTdev could have easily changed to make the parallel less obvious. Although, then you might ask, “why bother including the character’s gender at all, then?” In my opinion, Veronika talks for long enough that it would have been really hard to get through the entire monologue without ever establishing a set of pronouns for the protagonist.  “It’s about a _____'' is also a pretty natural way to introduce a story to someone for the first time. Choosing the fairly inconsequential “boy” is a lot less revealing than if Veronika said something more targeted; such as, “it’s about a marriage counselor.” I can’t deny that Veronika talking about a boy could be an important clue, but hopefully I’ve explained why I’m not hinging my entire theory off of it.

Alright, now we’re on to people who I think could genuinely make sense as a time loop mastermind. I think it’s probably most fitting to start with Eden. Because, you know… clocks… time… making time… you can’t go back no matter how hard you try… it’s not a hard conclusion to draw. DRDT has many underlying mysteries, but as compared to something as mysterious as, say, Mai, the concept of a time loop is even further obscured. Making your mastermind the Ultimate Clockmaker is something that would seem totally harmless on the surface, but be a great twist when the truth of the time loop is revealed. The issue is… other than her talent, I don’t think Eden has much going for her here. I guess you could argue that, if the killing game time loop is meant to help Teruko in some way, Eden has been very dedicated to her goal of supporting others. However, whether that’s the case or not, it’s hard to make an argument that Eden doesn’t care about anything anymore.

Maybe if the APQ quote is said in the future, and this is evidence of Eden undergoing the change that the APQ speaker described…? Eden is a definite possibility, but given all this in addition to my other theories as to where her character is headed, I think it’s an unlikely one.

Next, Veronika. As the one who introduced us to Forever Dead, she definitely has some connection to this time loop nonsense. The question is, how strong can that connection get? The main thing that I like about Veronika being the time loop mastermind is how well her character seems to fit with the APQ speaker’s personality. Both of them face boredom as their greatest enemy, and the APQ listing terror and fear as the top two emotions they wish they could still feel would match really well with a Horror Fanatic. My biggest problem is my main issue with Veronika being the mastermind in general: it just feels too obvious. Having Veronika directly state, “I can’t stand boring things,” and having the APQ speaker directly state, “anything else is better than boredom” is a really, really clear connection between the two. Would DRDTdev really want to drop such a decisive clue so early into the story? I can’t be sure. But my gut leans “no.”

It’s kind of impossible to talk about the possibility of Xander or Min being the time loop mastermind separately, because they share so many of the same points. Under the assumption that XF-Ture Tech is behind the time loop somehow, both of them may have connections to it. Min’s is undeniable– she’s clearly told us that they’ve sponsored her, and she wears their paraphernalia– while Xander may have been interrogating their actions as part of Mai���s scheme and/or in the first scene with the bloody hands over the documents. Both of them would serve similar narrative roles as someone who Teruko once wanted to trust who then betrayed her. And, obviously, both of them would be characters who appeared to die in Chapter 1 who would then return to serve as the mastermind, which could be an out-of-universe parallel or an in-universe reference to how Junko portrayed herself in the Hope’s Peak Academy killing game. Using a time loop to bring your thought-to-be-dead mastermind back for Chapter 6 would be pretty sick, I have to say.

Similarly, both of their greatest flaws lie within the realm of characterization. Neither of them strike me as the particularly apathetic type– Xander still seems to care ferociously about doing what’s right, and Min sounded genuinely desperate as she pleaded for her life. It’s possible that they could have been acting, or some time-loop induced amnesia made them forget their true feelings, but either case would still be a major shift in character. If I had to pick one of them to be more likely, I’d probably go with Min? The speaker’s insistence that they know what’s up could match with Min’s scholarly attitude, and I like her increased connection to XF Tech as well as Teacher. However, I still feel that Xander would have the greater impact upon being brought back– Teruko grew closer to him than she did to Min, and other characters, such as David (if he’s still alive) would also likely have a greater reaction to Xander’s return– so for that reason, I kind of prefer him as well.

Despite the pros and cons of all fifteen other options, this theory is clearly the most straightforward if Teruko is the mastermind. You remove all elements of how someone would have to spring either the killing game or the time loop on Teruko, and allow her to make all of the plans herself. Whether it was fully intentional or not, “the killing game is all your fault” (italicization mine) would make the most sense in this scenario. Furthermore, Teruko definitely fits the attitude of the APQ. I don’t know when she would have said it– between loops, possibly?-- but I can totally imagine her outlining how she used to care, but constant suffering and betrayal caused her to corrode.

The real question here is just why she would have put herself in the killing game to begin with. My first thought was “go through a killing game an infinite number of times and somehow something will finally result in getting Teruko to die,” if Teruko wants to die. But, that sort of contradicts what probably-Xander had to say about “end the killing game or at least kill Teruko.” Because, if the killing game is intended to kill Teruko, then ending the killing game could mean Teruko doesn't die, not satisfying what's framed as the more important of the two goals. Maybe if he was just mistaken as to what the purpose of the game was…? Or, if the time loop leaned more on the magical side, maybe the loop itself is keeping Teruko in the killing game until she can learn to trust others, no matter how dire the consequences. These other Ultimates were looped in for… accuracy to Junko’s original, I suppose? Or, maybe Teruko threw them in as a form of punishment for their misdeeds.

Anyone who isn’t a part of a killing game, such as Elliot or Ryan, raises some questions about how the speaker could be “stuck in here” and communicating with those who are part of the time loop. The most obvious option in this category is Mai, simply due to being the most relevant to the plot. She’s heavily involved with the secrets hidden in the website’s code, just like the APQ, and we know from Teruko’s own quote that “some years ago, [Mai] was searching for someone named ‘Teruko Tawaki.’” We also don’t technically know what her Ultimate talent is (although I think it’s very likely to be Lucky Student), which leaves the door open for her talent to be something useful with regards to setting the time loop up. Even a second Lucky Student could create some sort of weird clash of the titans that resulted in a time loop.

A common argument against Mai being the mastermind is that she is, in all likelihood, dead. However, with a time loop in play, there’s the possibility of resurrection. It could even be the reason why Teruko (or whoever) created the time loop in the first place. However, even if it’s pretty likely that Mai could be involved in the conception of the time loop, I’m not sure if it would be in a way that made her the APQ speaker and/or the mastermind. For the former, it’s that same issue of not being in the killing game, and for the latter, I more so see someone else creating the killing game for her than her making it herself. Probably. I dunno, Mai is a mystery.

Given the criteria of “in a killing game,” it’s also possible that the APQ speaker could be one of the characters in the altDRDT cast, though presumably not Teacher. They would have the easiest path to talk to Teacher, as opposed to the regular DRDT cast, who may have more trouble accessing him. However, there’s basically no shot at anyone in the altDRDT cast being DRDT’s mastermind, other than maybe Teacher. None of those characters have appeared on DRDT’s main hub, its YouTube channel, at all. Suddenly unveiling one of those characters– who even the hardcore fans know very little about– as the mastermind would be pretty out of nowhere. So, to the extent that the mastermind was the one who set up the time loop, I don’t think that any of the altDRDT characters created the time loop.

I think that’s pretty much every viable time loop mastermind option. I don’t know if we really determined anything all too specific, but it’s nice to sort out where all our pieces lie. As I said, I think that Teruko is by far the most logical option under the assumption that the killing game and the time loop are connected in a way where they must have been created by the same person. However, there are definitely other possibilities if you allow yourself to think outside that box.

Why?

On to arguably the most important of the categories: why? It doesn’t matter how much logical sense a time loop would make in DRDT’s world if there’s no narrative reason for it to exist in the first place. How would adding a time loop to DRDT’s story improve its themes and messages?

Well, as I already discussed in the What? and Who? sections, many characters grapple with themes of an unchanging world. What better device to reflect that mentality than one that literally shows the same sequence repeating over and over again? The fantastical concept of a time loop could emphasize and heighten the mistrust that Teruko feels. Using the time loop in that way would assign a concrete obstacle to an internal struggle, much like how the killing game itself is a physical manifestation of the helplessness of despair. Writers often enjoy employing devices like these to have a more tangible end goal for the protagonist to notably vanquish. Knowing exactly what’s going on in Teruko’s mind at any given moment might be difficult, especially given DRDT’s format. But, if Teruko sends the time loop created by her own tragic expectations shattering to pieces, we’ll know she made progress.

Additionally, Danganronpa itself posed the question of why we as fans continue to be interested in the killing game formula after seeing it play out so many times. In v3, they framed the killing game as the 53rd in a series to further emphasize the repetitive nature of this ritual sacrifice. Putting DRDT in a time loop could accomplish a very similar goal. As Veronika theorized in Chapter 2 Episode 7, the killing game will only continue for as long as audiences are entertained by it. In a never ending time loop killing game, will fans always be able to find entertainment? What does that say about them…?

Having a killing game within a time loop is a unique premise, as far as I’m aware. I’ve never before seen a fangan that decided to incorporate that into its plot. (Although, that may be a symptom of fangans tending to fizzle out before the finish line.) Making a fangan stand out can be tricky, and although DRDT already has the advantage of being fully illustrated, partially voice acted, and shown in a video format, having a unique gimmick can be a point of inspiration and a sales pitch. Similarly, Ultimate Lucky Student is a talent often tackled, both by the canon games (twice) and by other fangans. If the time loop is related to Teruko’s luck, that would also be a memorable and creative interpretation of a commonplace talent.

As for how a time loop would actually impact the story as it is, the obstacle it creates would definitely raise the stakes high for a Chapter 6 Trial. Like, how the hell are they supposed to beat that? Reiterating what I said earlier, a time loop could also be a clever way to revive a character (or characters) who previously died. If one of the starting premises of DRDT was “what if I had a mastermind that appeared to die in ch1, only to strikingly return in the finale?”, a time loop could have been the method invented to make that happen.

So, in summary, yes, I think there is sufficient narrative support to justify the inclusion of a time loop in DRDT. Maybe I should’ve cleared this section out of the way earlier in the theory. Oh well, too late now. But, if I had the chance to start it all over again, maybe I could do things differently next time…! Or, maybe I’d wind up writing the same thing every time regardless…

Where?

It’s a little silly of me to co-opt the “Where?” section as basically a summary of how I think the time loop theory would best play out, but I have my reasons. “Where?” seeks to answer where the time loop originated, and who was in it when it started. Thus, with so much focus on how the time loop began, talking about the cause and result alongside that made sense to me. The full Accirax Time Loop Theory will be in blue below, with more discussion afterward to answer whether I believe in it or not. Closing Argument starts… now!

The Tragedy ended nearly 80 years ago, and the new American Hope’s Peak Academy was founded about 50 years after that. Some time between HPA’s founding and 13 years ago, an up-and-coming tech company– XF-Ture Tech– partnered with Hope’s Peak Academy to take a more scientific look at the origins of talent in young students, much like what happened in pre-Tragedy days. XF-Ture Tech already had their eyes on one promising youth, “XF,” who they prepared to send to the West Academy. To place a representative into the East Class, XF Tech encouraged Hope’s Peak Academy to host the Ultimate Contest, with the intention of rigging the exam to get their applicant of choice into the school. This wound up being Min Jeung, who was placed in East Class 27.

Whether because of XF Tech’s request or simply due to respect for the history of the Academy, Hope’s Peak also once again began admitting Ultimate Lucky Students into their program. Their two candidates for Class 27 were Teruko Tawaki, who was sent to the West Academy, and Mai Akasaki, who was sent to the East Academy. XF Tech was quite interested in both of the students, but particularly Teruko. The way that her bad luck affected not only herself, but others as well, was very reminiscent of Nagito Komaeda, a major historical figure in both the start and the end of the Tragedy. XF Tech told both Min and “XF” to look out for Teruko as best they could, making sure nothing would come to harm their new test subject, and prepared to begin experimenting on Teruko’s luck.

Meanwhile, in the East Class, Mai fit in swimmingly. She grew really close with all of her classmates, but particularly with Min and Xander. Mai had already begun searching for Teruko several years before they wound up being recruited at opposite Hope’s Peaks– possibly because of their shared connection to good and/or bad luck– so when she heard a bit more about Teruko from Min, her interest was piqued. Recruiting her favorite Rebel to the cause, Mai asked Xander to sneak around in Hope’s Peak Academy to learn more about what the connection between the Academy, XF-Ture Tech, and Teruko was.

What they learned in the documents was the reality of what was happening in the West Class: XF-Tech was intermittently running physical and mental tests on Teruko to determine exactly what the range and power of her curse-like abilities was. Could her raw Ultimate power rival that of someone like Nagito, or perhaps even Junko Enoshima? Throwing a few mediocre lives at that question would be well worth the answer, wouldn’t it…?

Using their social connections and financial power, XF-Ture Tech arranged for West Class 27 to be taken to a self-contained abandoned mall to begin their most dramatic test yet: seeing if Teruko’s luck would carry her through a killing game against other Ultimates, just as it could have for Nagito or Junko or as it did for Izuru Kamukura. The killing game commenced, and while Teruko might not have been a target from Day 1, at some point in the story, someone attempted to kill her. And… It worked.

What a disappointment. Was Teruko’s luck really so weak when push came to shove?

But then, something truly unexpected happened: the killing game began again. Unable to accept her death, Teruko’s luck engulfed the entire mall into a time loop, running the killing game over and over again until the results were satisfactory. The rest of the world moved forward in linear time as usual, but the mall was stuck in an infinite killing game. XF Tech, amazed and delighted, diverged all of their resources into the study of this phenomenon, protecting it closely.

Mai and Xander were horrified upon learning this, and knew that they had to do something to save West Class 27. Mai, Xander, and potentially some others ran over to the site of the test to see if they could break in, get further intel, change someone’s mind, or anything to get the killing game to stop. However, as they did, they were attacked by XF Tech’s security, resulting in Xander losing an eye… and Mai losing her life. At that moment, Xander vowed that, no matter what it took, he would end the killing game and save the rest of West 27… or, at the very least, kill Teruko to avenge Mai’s life.

Meanwhile, within the time loop, the deja vu (and possibly some comments from the XF Tech-controlled mascot?) began to make Teruko wise up to what was happening. While her original plan was to get along with everyone in the killing game, trusting them and being their hero, she found that every one of those routes led to death and personal tragedy/betrayal. Teruko learned that, if she stopped caring about others, she could at least cut down on the personal tragedy aspect.

Teacher, as a perceptive and intelligent soul, was the next to piece together that something about the killing game was unnatural based on Teruko’s behavior. In one loop, Teruko winds up saying the APQ to him, revealing her new attitude. Either Teruko or Teacher could fit the description of the Forever Dead boy with how their minds began to fracture.

Outside of the time loop, Xander formulated his new plan. When his village was eradicated, it was a case of the rich and powerful obliterating the little guy with their unmatched resources. To fight back, you have to become as big as your attackers. You can only defeat a time loop with a time loop. You can only save Ultimates by putting more Ultimates’ lives at risk.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too hard to motivate the rest of East Class 27 to join Xander in his crusade. Although he himself may have been a love-or-hate figure amidst his classmates, everyone loved Mai, and wanted to help fulfill her dying wish. Plus, in theory, the plan shouldn’t risk any of their lives. Weaponizing the time loop killing game’s unending nature against it, the goal was to repeat the killing game as many times as it takes until Teruko dies as the first victim. Her luck has to fail her at some point– it’s a corrupt system; it can be broken, argues Xander– and at that point, they’ll simply end the killing game with no other casualties. To make it easier on everyone else, Xander even promised to be the one to make the first move against Teruko, every time. He left a note on him when the time loop started to always remind him.

Anyways, using some combination of Xander’s determination, Charles’ science, J and/or David’s money, Whit and/or David’s connections, and remaining vestiges of Mai’s luck (LGI “original” Color Theory pulling through???), East Class 27 managed to break the abandoned mall time loop. They pulled Teruko into their own killing game, “masterminded” by Xander, in which her luck would hopefully be less of an obstacle. The DRDT killing game we’ve seen thus far could be their first attempt or their thousandth, but whatever the case, the plan to get Teruko to die as the first victim hasn’t succeeded thus far. It’s especially hard to get it to work when Teruko has the lingering thought in the back of her mind that she can’t be killed… and when Min still has a vague memory that she’s supposed to keep Teruko out of danger.

Even though the altDRDT cast, West Class 27, escaped the time loop, they aren’t out of the killing game woods just yet. The East Class managed to catch them mid-killing game, after two Trials passed. But, due to the confusion of the time loop, none of them can remember what happened in that particular iteration of the game, or Teruko’s disappearance, which leaves them at only 11 participants. Quite the mysterious circumstance, indeed…

That’s the best I could come up with. Got some points of concern? Me too! Here are the ones I’m thinking of right now:

Would HPA (presumably headed by “Ms. Naegi”) really allow XF-Tech to do anything remotely close to what I described to Teruko?

How would XF-Ture Tech have known enough about Teruko’s luck when Teruko was 5 to recruit Min (and “XF”) to be in the correct classes at the correct time?

Is XF-Ture Tech really that important to the story?

Is Mai actually that close to Min and Xander specifically, or are we just biased because those are the two Bonus Episodes we’ve seen thus far?

Didn't Mai and Teruko have a more extensive connection than what was described? (Matching tattoos, phone charms)

Why would Teruko’s luck create a time loop specifically? Why wouldn't it come up with some other way to save her?

Why would the time loop only be constrained to the mall?

Would Xander ever be willing to come that close to sacrificing innocents’ lives for the plan?

Would the entire DRDT cast really be willing to risk their time, if nothing else, to enter a killing game just to "avenge" Mai?

What could they have actually done against Teruko’s luck to break the mall time loop?

How could they have guaranteed that another time loop would begin if they managed to steal Teruko?

Where did MonoTV come from?

Why would the students have themed the killing game around TV?

Why would they throw the embarrassing secrets motive into their killing game if it was only meant to kill Teruko/that “round” theoretically shouldn’t even happen?

Why would Xander not have written the kill Teruko Tawaki note to himself? (He probably didn’t based on the handwriting)

If not Teruko’s death, what marker would signal the loop point of the DRDT killing game? Whenever the killing game seems to end?

What motive would XF-Ture Tech have to (presumably) continue the altDRDT killing game after the time loop is broken and Teruko is gone?

Why does altDRDT have NG code bracelets?

I could probably come up with more, but these are all the major questions I could think of at the moment. While not a “question,” per se, another point of contention for some would be that this would make Xander the mastermind of DRDT. It’s not a huge point of contention for me, both because 1) an off-the-wall situation like this is exactly what I think Xander would need to properly capitalize off of any narrative setup he may have for being the mastermind, and 2) @/sentinel-kinjo made a really good point in the replies of my DRDT mastermind post that definitely had me questioning whether I should’ve put Xander (and Charles) higher.

Anyways, despite all this effort– or maybe because of it– I think I personally don’t really believe in the theory that DRDT is part of a time loop. Somewhat like the Arei dress-up theory, I feel like there are too many oddities currently left unanswered for the theory to be actually viable. Unlike the Arei dress-up theory, though, I think that this one has far more potential to become correct via us receiving more information that either fills in some of our plot holes or reroutes the plot to avoid some of the biggest grievances.

The only thing I really like from this theory is that the altDRDT cast is West Class 27, AKA Teruko’s class. That’s gonna be my new personal headcanon until proven otherwise.

I’m not the only one who’s noticed that the DRDT fandom has been feeling a little sleepy (Min reference) lately, so thank you, anon, for helping to keep me cooking on the series during this semi-down period. …Even if it took me, like, two months to actually finish. Thank you for your patience, as well.

And thank you to everyone for reading this far! I think my mastermind theory still wound up being longer than this (although it’s hard to tell with the pictures), but this one is still a doozy. Also, if you have anything to add on or argue against, please share your thoughts in the comments or a reblog! I’d love to hear others’ thoughts, especially given how loosely defined the time loop theory was. Whether you do or don’t, I hope you enjoyed. See you at the next inexplicably long analysis!

[silverskye13]

talks to u

You will regret talking to me I'm very very sorry

So recently my sister has been reading out loud to me [it is very fun I wish I had someone to read out loud to] and the book she picked was Haunting on the Hill. This book was an absolute minefield of a read because it was advertised as a spiritual sequel to Haunting of Hill House and HOHH is probably one of the books I've been the most emotionally invested in ever. Mostly because I see people take the book and Try To Do It Better constantly, and they do it wrong over and over and over again. I don't know how this became My Hill To Die On, but no one can do a remix of the genre right, especially those that pretend like they're trying to.

Hell House, for example, a book that I hate with my entire being, was a very intentional stab at HOHH. It took the trope of four people -- one a slightly older gentleman who is doing research on the property -- two women -- who is a lonely homebody, and one who is a (implied) bisexual psychic -- and one younger man about their age who has some Obvious Substance Abuse Problems, and sets them in a haunted house to try and figure out why its haunted. The author then spends the rest of the book punishing those characters for obvious perceived societal slights. The old man's sin is being old, and dies because he isn't virile and strong enough to withstand the house [unlike the young male protagonist]. The psychic is punished for believing she is psychic, being a confident woman who lives alone, and being implied bisexual [this is evident in the nature of her death, which I won't share here. It's fucking bad]. Then after these characters die, the white male savior comes back, something to do with the old owner of the house haunting it with his willpower, in a closet with a glass of water? It made no sense. But the metaphor the book was obviously leaning towards was, the Good Guy can win and get the girl if he has strength of mind, is vaguely psychic [but better than the psychic lady obviously] and fucking stands around long enough while his friends are killed.

House on the Hill, which should have been marketed as a reference to Hill House and not as a spiritual successor, is a passable haunted house book that attempts to remix the story by making all of the main characters theater kids. There is an older lady who has been ousted from her community for being too old, the young woman main protagonist who is the Ellie parallel, the Theadora parallel is her girlfriend, a bisexual actress who is maybe a little too full of herself, and their single male character has a substance abuse problem involving cocaine instead of alcohol, like Luke from the original book. The author even seems to have grasped some of the original intention of HoHH as a conversation about isolation and loneliness. However about halfway through the book, it takes a turn and seems to punish Theadora for being the character she was written as, in the same way Hell House punished its Theadora allegory character. The rest of the book proceeds with a lot of standard haunted house tropes -- not a bug exactly, but they don't reinforce any extended metaphor. They're mostly there to be spooky. Which would be fine for a standard haunted house book, but not for a haunted house book that claims its the sequel to HoHH.

You see, Haunting of Hill House, and by extension, Shirley Jackson, the author, have a very subtle but also deeply impactful metaphor about loneliness going on in the background, and everything from the haunted house to the fallout of the characters reemphasizes this theme.

Ellie, Eleanor, is an exhausted housewife-style woman in the 1960s, whose never gone anywhere or done anything with her life, because instead of marrying and moving across the country somewhere, she stayed home to take care of her ailing mother. Now that her mother is dead, she lives with her sister and brother-in-law, and believes herself to be a general tax on the family. She fills stuck, alone, unloved and unwanted. The story is in her point of view, and you quickly realize her way of coping with her trapped feelings involves fantasticizing the world around her. She dreams of who she would be if she just lived over there in that little cottage, how differently her life would turn out if she had a cute little life in that one room house. Etc. When she accepts the summons to Hill House, she steals her brother in law's car and drives there on her own, her first trip alone anywhere in her entire life.

Theadora is a psychic who, if I'm remembering right, lives alone and owns a flower shop. She lives a much more interesting lifestyle than most women in the 60s, in a big city with many different friends and lovers coming and going, completely independent. There is an implication that she has trouble keeping interpersonal relationships -- she's a little too flighty -- and really a woman who can't settle down with a man is a red flag.

Doctor Montague seems fine on the surface, if a little jaded. He's a professor at university who is being slowly pushed out of his scientific field because he believes in the supernatural, and wants to prove it using empirical evidence. You find out his wife is very supportive in this venture -- too supportive. He thinks all of her contributions are nonsense, and so is she. His loneliness is self inflicted. He has a fan club right there with his wife, if he gave two shits about her opinions.

Last is Luke, an alcoholic, and the person in line to inherit Hill House. His loneliness is that he, doesn't want the fuckin' house. But because of his alcoholism and gambling problems, the family has decided he, as the cursed child, gets to take care of the cursed mansion no one else wants to touch. So Luke, ostracized from the family and a little shitty about it, decides he might as well rent out the place for some extra cash to fuel his various addictions. The family is going to be cutting him off soon anyway...

These four characters, over the course of Hill House, become haunted by the house, not because of tragic deaths there, or because the house is alive in any literal sense of the word. But because the House has the quality of an overbearing mother, smothering its children with its expectations. Any piece of furniture moved in the place is replaced as soon as they leave the room. Any door opened to allow air or light inside is shut the minute they walk into the next. The house rights itself back to a self-inflicted perfection that is unlivable, and it wants to isolate you too, to be like it. Hill House tells you exactly what it is and what it wants to do in the first paragraph: And all who walk there, walk alone.

Shirley Jackson wrote this very intentionally. As a woman in the 60s trying to have a successful writing career, none of her books were taken seriously. She was pigeonholed into mother and housewife first. Articles that wrote about her works at the time held the patronizing tone of someone congratulating a child who found a new hobby -- not a serious writer wanting to make poignant stories. Her books are lovely now, the few that were published. But Shirley Jackson lived a life that was full of anxiety and agoraphobia, in a world where she felt belittled and token. Her books are written the way they are for a reason. There is great loneliness in being shoved in a box.

I really love that exploration. I love how the people in the book descend into the box of Hill House, the expectations they place on each other, and the way all the women feel tonally dissonant in their token roles. And that's why I hate so many modern adaptations, or inspired-bys, or spiritual sequels. Hill House is a metaphor before it's a ghost story -- and that is why it succeeds as a ghost story! It is scary because you get invested in the characters' wellbeings, their doomed qualities, their individual, very subtle, madnesses. Watching new writers read the book and punish those characters over and over again for not acting right [especially Theadora, Jesus Christ.]

In fact, since I'm already ranting, I'm going to give you a quick rant in defense of Theadora.

Theadora breaks into the book as a very bright star in Ellie's world. She is, literally, everything Ellie wishes she could be. She lives an interesting life, alone, without being too cripplingly lonely. Theadora, used to a little bit of flirting and over friendliness, falls in with Ellie and Luke immediately. She is charming, and bright and beautiful, and Ellie, who's character flaw is romanticizing everything, falls head over heels for her. They get scared together. They comfort each other when the ghosts start acting up. They get haunted together. And Ellie decides, in the way of someone romanticizing something, when all this is over, she would like to live with Theo. But when she tells Theo this, Theo laughs it off. "This is just a holiday, Ellie dear. We will have to get back to our lives eventually." It's unfair to say this is a game for Theadora. I feel like her feelings in the book, all her charm and her flirting, are genuine. But they're genuine in the way of someone going on vacation and flirting around with the people they meet -- she has a normal life she enjoys that she plans on getting back to. Ellie, who is incredibly alone, and who feels like she has only just tasted happiness now that she's come to Hill House, doesn't want to go back home after this. This is the happiest she's ever been.

Ellie informs Theo she is going to follow Theo home, and Theo turns very, very mean. She starts hitting much harder on Luke [something that makes Luke uncomfortable, but something he never really stops, because Luke also likes the attention he's getting] and belittling Ellie and her wild fantasies. She pushes Ellie away. It isn't kind, but what else can she do? She told Ellie she doesn't want to be followed home and Ellie, trapped in her daydreams, doesn't listen.

The rest of the book unfolds. Hill House isolates Ellie, and makes her feel like she can have no happiness outside its smothering walls. She gets taken by it.

In every book that takes on the mantle of trying to tackle the themes that made Hill House great, I would like to ask you all this: Why do they always punish Theo?

Hell House straight up kills its Theo allegory in a very brutal, overt way, implying she deserves that brutality for her promiscuity. The House on the Hill kills its Theo for being too full of herself, for believing she was entitled to greatness.

Why?

You can make a case for the queer aspects of her probably. Or for misogyny. Or for infidelity. Or for the fact that she appears to choose Luke over her relationship with Ellie. But I notice none of these books punish their Ellie allegory for also falling for Theo. For also aspiring to be something other than a stuffy housewife somewhere. For also falling for Luke, and wanting him to be a part of her happiness fantasy.

In honesty, I really think these authors read Theo and think she's the antagonist. So they write their stories to punish the angry woman who was mean to poor, lonely Ellie. But, here's the kicker, Theadora isn't the antagonist. The house is. Loneliness is. The house leads Ellie to a perfect world, and Ellie, who is the way that she is, cannot fathom a world where that perfection is broken, so she ignores it. So she scares people with her over-attachment. So they try to send her away, because whatever is going on with her, it's not safe and it needs to stop. So she decides she would rather die than leave.

Theadora is only "the bad guy" because she's the one that reminds everyone that the fantasy of this perfect house must break eventually. The Doctor will have to go back to his university that doesn't take him seriously and his wife who takes him too seriously. Theadora will have to go back to her shop with her rotating friends who aren't as close as she'd like, but whom she can't force to stay. Luke will have to go back to his place as the unwanted, failing heir and Eleanor --

Well. Eleanor doesn't leave Hill House.

Everyone gets so mad at Theodora because of Ellie's investment in her. Because Ellie is lonely, and sad, and relatable. The first time I read Hill House, some of Ellie's lines made me want to cry they hit so close to home. All her assertions that when she spoke to people she said too much and was too stupid, she would be better tomorrow. All her quiet chastisements that she needs to be more interesting. All her attachments and how scared she is of being spurned. All her wonder when she looks around at the world and tries to imagine a better life. But it's not Theodora's fault that Ellie doesn't get that. It's Ellie's fault for becoming too attached to something that isn't there, and it sucks, and if this were a story with a happy ending, she would realize that and grow past that, but she doesn't. That's not how the story is written.

On one of the nights when the haunting happens, Ellie and Theo are sharing a room. They are laying in bed and holding hands while the house comes alive around them. Knocking on the walls. Slamming doors. Claws, and whispering, and scraping and screaming. Ellie and Theo hold each other's hands tightly. She hears the torturous sounds of a baby in the other room, a child in pain, screaming for its mother, and she's terrified and she's holding tight to Theadora's hand.

And finds, when the haunting stops, that Theo was out of reach the whole time.

Ellie asks, who's hand was I holding?

[The Haunting of Hill House is a metaphor.]

One of these days I'm going to sit down and write the Haunting of Hill House remake in my head, that I am just egotistical enough to believe I could do well. I would find a more modern metaphor first. Something to do with the loneliness of an infinitely interconnected world. Something to do with how boxed in we all feel, how trapped, and how so many people blame it on computers, even though they should be able to connect us more.

I would build a Hill House where the four characters meet on a forum, the first time they've found someone with similar interests. They would meet in person for this haunting expedition. They too would take in the oddness of a house that rights itself on its own, pretends they were never there. They two would fall in love with each other, and bond, and find community in a group of people who are constantly isolated and are glad to finally find someone they relate to.

They too would have to dear with the objective, lonely horror of realizing this doesn't magically fix their problems. That they were alone in the rest of their lives not just because the world isolated them, but because they're bad at forming connections. They would get catty, and disagree, and worry about the lives they need to go back to, and complain about spouses and partners. And one of them, as is Hill House's tithe, wouldn't be able to cope.

One of them, as is Hill House's tithe, wouldn't be able to leave.

Anyway, not sure where exactly this rant was going. Uh. Nice Sunday we're having anon. Got any niche special interests you've been meaning to unload recently?

[soxcietyy]

Temptation

Chapter 2 -> Chapter 3

Your dad is tired of you bringing home these unworthy men. None of them being fit to take care of you or to be given the family business since you are the only daughter. He decides to find you someone fit to be your husband and receive help from the father of the church. That’s when you meet Yuta, though just because he goes to church doesn’t mean he’s much of a saint

Mafia, murder, violence, mentions of religion, (will contain other things in the next chapters)

The date went rather well… yes he was acting weird time by time. For example he would look at you then towards the direction of the exit and finally to his right where a group of men sat. His eyes always seemed to be darting in thoes specific spots. He was very vague with the answers to your questions and would switch the topic to back to you immediately. You could feel the floor move as he bounced his leg up and down. Was your dad really going to let you marry this man? Not that you hated him but this was rather a great surprise to you.

"Don’t you think I should be getting to know you a bit more?" You clasp your hands together under the table. "Tell me about your family!" You say.

He looked up at you surprised as he took a sip from his drink. "They’re well, alive and well." Yuta pokes at his steak, clearly not being hungry. He had taken you to this big fancy restaurant and ordered himself the most expensive steak just so he could look at it.

"What is your field of work?" You ask as you sunk your fork into a grilled piece of fish.

Taking a sip of his wine again he chokes at the sudden question. He clears his throat and answers the question after a few minutes of contemplating. "I am a business partner."

"Oh really? What is your business about?" You perk up. Obviously you knew about the business world a bit and that topic intrigued you. Your father has taught you the little bit of things that you knew.

"I don’t think you would be quite interested in it. I don’t sell jewelry or dresses. It’s just trade, nothing your small head should worry about." He pats his front pocket and pulls out a buisness card. "I’m under the Gojo franchise."

The small card was being handed to you and you accepted it. It had the company’s name written on it in a cursive font with big dark blue letters.

"What are you trying to say? That I’m not knowledgeable enough to understand any of this? Do you know who I am? I’m the daughter of one of the best wine distributors. You’re literally drinking our company brand as we speak!" You furrow your brows.

He quirks his brow and lifts the glass up to take a good look at it. Inspecting it as if he actually knew how to evaluate such thing. You watch as he took a sip from the glass and tasted the drink. Dragging his eyes back to yours he simplify shrugged and put the glass to the side

Your father has taught you about being a lady and to never let anger get the best of you. But he just spouted the most ridiculous thing ever. Did he really think he was going to win you this way? Unbelievable man, this was the last time he was ever going to see you.

"That was really good actually, the best iv ever had." Yuta smiled at you. "Right, I’m sorry for saying that. I’m just not used to being around many women. I was secluded when I was younger and was always around buisness men. I really had no time to just be a kid. The second I was able to read and write I was forced to learn everything I know now." He looks down.

Was that even justifiable?! But at the same time your heart ached as he talked about his childhood. This poor man was forced to grow up too fast and never had the chance to be a boy. You reached out for his hand that rested on the table. He looked up at you with a small smile.

"Thank you for opening up to me, I know it was probably hard to tell me."

"Yea it’s kind of embarrassing for me to admit that I have no experience. I told father everything and he promised to find me a woman suitable for me. Someone kind, understanding, forgiving and stunning." He pressed your palm onto his cheek as he looked at you.

Your heart melted as you stared at his dark blue eyes. His soft warm soft cheeks made you want to pinch them.

"Yuta, goodness what am I going to do with you. Such a handsome man with a heart of gold. I want you to know that you can always rely on me." You say forgetting everything that happened a while ago.

"Wait does that mean you’ll give me a chance?" He looks at you surprised.

You nod at him with a blush on your face.

" I’m going to treat you so well you have no idea." He pulls your hand towards his lips and plants a kiss on it.

His eyes looking past you as his lips stayed on your skin. Until he looked to the side and let’s go. Intertwining your hands together he couldn’t help but wear a big smile on his face. You’ve never felt this way before but you felt excited. This was something new for you and him. It was going to be a such an experience.

He ended up taking you home but before he left he wanted to have another talk with your father. Probably saying that you both had agreed on dating. If things work out you guys should be getting married in a few years. You watched as the both of them enter your dads office and when the door closed your mom grabbed your hand and dragged you to the kitchen.

You looked at her shocked as she grabbed your face and searched you up and down. She ignored your questions as she investigated to her heart’s content. When she decided you were in the clear she let out a sigh. She looked like she had been stressed all day.

"You arnt hurt are you?" She said worried

"No mom, Im perfectly fine. You don’t look okay though." You say looking at her red puffy eyes and smudged makeup.

"I told your father to find you a good man y/n! A good man but he’s so stupid." She held your arms tight. "Don’t worry I’ll get you of of this."

Your mom was usually a vey calm and collected person. She was the standard in your big family and everyone wanted to be rich and elegant as her. Seeing her act like this frightened you. If anyone saw her acting like this they would think that she was out of her mind.

"Mama you don’t have to worry about me. Yuta is such a kind gentleman. He’s not going to harm me nor is he going to kill me. I don’t think he would hurt a fly actually. You can relax and be sure that everything will be fine." You hug her tight. "You can even supervise all my dates if you want. You already know it’s going to take a few years before I actually go home with him or get married. Papa isn’t that easy to sway." You kiss her forehead.

"Your father…I don’t know what’s gotten into him. I don’t know why he would agree to let him take you on a date with a boy related to the Gojo’s."

There it was again, that last name that keeps popping up. You might have to start investigating that family to find out what this whole thing is about.

"Y/n be careful with that boy and if your scared that sometimes is going to happen just comply and find a way to escape him. That family, they’re not to be messed with. You can seriously get hu-"

"We’re leaving." You hear a voice from the kitchen entrance.

The both of you jump, startled by the voice that spoke behind you.

Leaving? You mouth confused.

Yuta grabs you by the arm and leads you to the front door. You try to stop in protest but he kept pushing you fowards as you walked.

"What do you mean she’s leaving?! F/n what the hell are you thinking?!" Your mother shouts.

Before you could heard the answer to that the door behind you was shut. All you could heard was faint yelling, crying and the loud crickets that created there sweet sounds of the night. Everything was happening so quick that it didn’t give you time to think and process.

You were in the car by the time you even had a question about this whole situation. You couldn’t even recall when he put the seatbelt on you or when started driving. This all felt like a dream.

"Who are you?" You ask.

Yuta turns to look at you, his glossy eyes shining with the moonlight. "What do you mean by that?"

"You arnt an average person are you? You’re different." You stare at him as he faces the road once again.

He didn’t answer for a long time. It almost felt like forever. You were starting to think you wernt going to get an answer.

"Yuta okkotsu, Ceo of the trading branch that belongs to the Gojo franchise. Born and raised in upper NewYork."

You frown seeing that he told you what you already knew. Then something else caught your eye. On the front pouch of his dress shirt was a pen that seemed to be pushed down. Meaning he had used it not too long ago because that wasn’t there when you met him. That means he had signed something recently. If your dad had sent you off with him and he has a pen on him that could only mean…

"Did you just buy me?" You ask.

His eyes drag back onto you. His once soft puppy eyes turned into sharp tiger eyes. "No, are you okay sweetheart? You’re asking me such odd questions tonight. I think you need rest." He says.

"No." You protest. "Why did my dad agree to let you go on a date with me? Why did he not Interagate you more? Why was he so aggressive with you in the beginning and now he’s not? Why is he always smiling when he sees you? Why am I in the car with you right now? Why am I going home with you? We’re not even married for me to be sleeping with you." When you finished you felt your body being launched forward by force.

Yuta had stomped on the breaks causing that to happen. You held your chest with you hand trying to calm down your racing heart.

"Do you always ask this many questions?"

The ride to his place was silent. Not a sound came out of the both of you. You looked out the window at the different houses and stores that you passed by.

They all looked unfamiliar because you’ve never been in this part of town. The buildings were big and the houses had such big plots of land. They where huge mansions that sat on the hills and smaller ones that where ground level.

The car came to a slow stop making you look in front of you. When you did you could see a man opening the gates letting the car go in, it was dark but that didn’t prevent you from seeing this huge white mansion that stood in front of you. It had balcony and vines hanging from the side. A handful of cars were parked on the far left side of the house under a tree. Did he own that many cars? What kind of person needed this many?

He helped you out and held your hand the entire time. Unlocking the door he took you straight upstairs quietly. Almost as if he was sneaking you inside his parents house. Looking at him from behind you started to realize thing, you could see how his dress shirt hugged his back. How his pants fit a little bit too perfectly on him. The smell of his cologne being leather scented. The jewelry he wore on his hands. A scar that wrapped around his wrist that looked like it was made not too long ago.

You stumbled on a step making him stop to make sure you were okay. He had been walking a little bit too fast making it difficult for you to keep up with. He then decided to walk a bit slower giving you more of a chance to look around. The house was huge from the looks of it. The walls where a creamy white and the floors where a dark brown wooden color. The house seemed to be very clean, everything looked perfect actually. Not a spec of dust in sight making it odd. Your mother was a clean freak but not even she could get it this clean. The walls were littered with crosses and pictures of saints. Unfortunately this place look like it had not been touched by a women. It was missing the home like feeling.

He ended up sitting you down in a chair that he had in what you assumed was his bedroom. It was twice the size of yours and it had a balcony. He had big dressers, a big bed, a sofa and a chair with a table. It seemed a bit too big for someone like him. Then again maybe that’s why you were here. His tall body moved around the room as he put things from his pocket on a dresser. He threw his coat that he had been carrying on a chair. Then turned back to you.

"I’m going to go downstairs to do something. You can stay here and do whatever females do on their free time." Yuta said as he walked to the mirror and fixed his shirt. "Your to absolutely not go downstairs okay?" He says making eye contact with you through the mirror. "No matter what you here you ignore it." You could see his intense gaze looking at you showing you how serious he was being.

You nod at him.

"Splendid, You’re not hungry are you? I think I might have something downstairs, if not I can get you anything you want." He approaches you and presses a kiss on your lips as if this was the norm. You look at him with a look he could not possibly look away from. "Your really something huh? How about when I get back we can have some fun." He leans till the both of your noses are touching. Forehead pressed against each others forehead’s. You reach for your neck and touch the cross necklace that rested there. He takes a step back and looks at you amusingly.

"Right, of course."

Walking out he closes the door behind him leaving you alone in this cold room. Your hand ran through the cold bedding sending chills through your body. The things you mom had said played over and over in your head. Maybe now was the time to find out who he was. Standing up you walk to the coat he had threw to the side.

Picking it up you slipped your hand in each pocket taking anything out. You pulled out some money, recipes, cigarettes, and a folded paper. Slowly you unfolded it afraid that he could possibly be right outside the door. The white crinkled paper contained random numbers and your name on it.

You take a seat in the hard floor and shove it in your dress. You would probably find use for it later on. Suddney something shiny caught your eye, looking down at it you spick it up. It seems to be a pin with a design in the front of it. The more you looked at it the more it reminded you of the one your dad wore. It was a cuff link, these were used a show off wealth and status. Usually the things on them had meaning. This design was one you remember seeing somewhere. Holding it up for the light you look at it more trying to catch every detail you could. Then you remember that you saw it in the card he had given you. Quickly you looked for the card you had stuffed somewhere.

Unfortunately you weren’t careful enough with it and it ended up slipping out of your fingers. You gasped as it hit the floor making a loud echo. That’s when it started to roll away from you. Quickly you ran to grab it but missed the first time. It was rolling faster and faster gaining speed. You struggled to grab it and by the time it stared to loose momentum it had went under the double doors. You bite your lip debating on whether you should go out but you would be in big trouble if he found out you grabbed it. Cuff links can range from cheap to very expensive and that’s one looked like it was worth a heavy penny.

Opening the door you look around the floor to find the dam thing heading down the stairs. Everytime the cuff link made impact on a step, a loud clink could be heard. You wince at each sound it made. Taking your heels off to make less noise you chase after it. Finally reaching the bottom of the stairs you snag it before it could run any further. You take a deep breath relieved that you finally had it back. 

"Well I haven’t seen one of you since the last one." A man said. Turning around you see a tall man with a long beard looking at you. Somehow the hair didn’t transfer to his shiny bald head. You weren’t sure who this man was so you tried making conversation really short with him so you could get back but maybe this could work out for you.

"Oh, your telling me he’s had other girls?"

"Obviously he has, you must be an idiot to believe that man hasn’t had a woman. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a child somewhere." He laughs.

Well now you knew that whole sob story was a lie.

"Right because he’s a very important guy right?"

"I think you’re underestimating him, he’s literally the reason the Gojo franchise is still running with no competition. Then again he literally m-" before he could finish his sentence a long shot rang out. You quickly duck from the sound taking cover from the shot. Who in the world could be carrying in such a nice neighborhood?! Usually you heard these type of things on the other side of town. It took you a minute before you looked back up but when you did Yuta stood infront of you.

"Didn’t I tell you to wait upstairs." Yuta squats down to get eye level with you.

Behind him you could see a crowed of men walking out a room. He must of just gotten out of a meeting but why was it at his house? He quickly snagged your attention by grabbing your face.

"You’re not answering." He says.

There was no point in lying to him. Slowly you open your hand and show him the cuff link. He looked at you surprised and took it from you.

"Where you trying to give this to me? Because you knew I had a meeting?" He says as his ears began to turn pink.

You had no idea how he came up with that conclusion but you didn’t deny it.

"Well that was really kind of you and uh darling, where are you heels?" Yuta looks down at your feet that touched the floor. You laugh awkwardly not knowing how to explain yourself. It didn’t matter much since he picked you right off your feet and carried you upstairs. Looking over his shoulder you look down to see if the man you had spoken too was still there. Instead you saw a group of people carrying something out the door.

"Y/n, let’s get some rest. You have a long day tomorrow."

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 19/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

Another reminder that not all chapters are happening in continuous days. Sometimes a week or a month go by but I'm not gonna say that every chapter lajsdlajl

We are channeling our inner Lucifer who has no concept of time and feeling like the days are blending in with one another.

A short but SIGNIFICANT chapter

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

Lucifer had never opened a portal so fast in his life. Hearing those outrageous words from Nifty made him sprung into action, not even caring that he's leaving Adam behind. He's pretty sure the guy will be fine even if he is bound within palace walls.

Maybe he should've asked Nifty to elaborate more because what the fuck does 'the sky is falling' mean?? But his daughter could be in danger so he'll figure it out there.

It was Charlie who calls for him as soon as he arrives.

Charlie: Dad!

Lucifer: Char-char! What's going on? I'm so sorry. Adam and I were busy and I put a ward on the palace and my phone was silent and why is Nifty saying the sky is falling?? Charlie-

Charlie: Dad! Just- come with me outside!

She all but drags him by the arm out the hotel doors to a sight he never thought he'd witness outside of Earth.

Lucifer: Wha- What in the unholy hell?

He feels breathless. It's horrifying but also.... so captivating.

From the heavens above, a cascade of meteors descended, their fiery tails of gold painting the skies of Hell. Each impact further damaged and eventually destroying the Pentagram barrier.

Screams ensue the moment the first meteor hits one part of Pride. Following that are continuous deafening crashes, the meteors struck with indiscriminate force, wreaking havoc on his denizens. Glass shattered, concrete crumbled, and chaos ensued as residents fled for safety, their once familiar surroundings now transformed into a scene of destruction.

One meteor veered off course, hurtling straight towards the hotel. Lucifer vaguely hears Charlie shouting for them to take cover and catches sight of Alastor putting up a shield for them.

He hears his daughter shout for him but he stays rooted in place as the object landed just a stone's throw away from where he stands.

When the dust clears, he feels himself freeze as amidst the rubble lay a figure, not of space rock, but an angel, a dead low ranking angel.

Now grounded in Hell and no longer have its majesty. It is mangled, burned, and broken.

Fallen.

Lucifer cannot speak as he keeps staring at the crumpled figure in front of him. Its once luminous wings now tattered and singed. He knows he should do something but what? His people are terrified and his city is getting the brunt of the mass Fall.

The King of Hell doesn't move when Charlie and the other sinners run to his side. He senses them freezing and someone vomiting (probably Vaggie-he can understand) because of the body. The angel bodywhatthe fuck-

Charlie: Vaggie! Dad!... why-what- is that an angel?!

Angel: Move, Vagina, I think I'm gonna be sick too.

Cherri: Way ahead of ya, Angie.

Husk is rubbing circles on Angel's back as the spider pukes out the his lunch. He wants to comfort Angel fully but he's all too distracted by the dead angel on the ground.

Alastor moves closer to poke the body, bringing his blood soaked finger to his mouth to taste.

Alastor: How peculiar....

Lucifer had barely begun to grasp the gravity of the situation when he felt something wet hit his face. He slowly reached up to the spot, fingers coming away coated in a golden substance. Confusion were written in their faces as they look back up as the liquid began to pour from the sky like rain.

His ears begun to feel like he's underwater- screams and choking sounds echoed throughout his city as the thick gold coats every single corner of Pride.

'No.'

He whispered, the realization hitting him like a delayed blow. As the metallic scent finally reached his nose, he collapsed to all fours, unable to stop his own gagging. He knew what this was, but he refuse to believe it.

'This can't be real.'

He could sense Vaggie in a similar state nearby, both of them struggling to breathe and think because this is angel blood.

Lucifer falls face first on the wet ground that's shimmering gold to the endless distance. He passes out from the smell before he knows it.

Heaven is falling.

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

I feel like this is not what yall expected to happen as the beginning of the final arc.

A Supernatural reference? In 2024?

The blood rain is also inspired by that one quadrant in the 2nd Hunger Games movie. Because I, too, would gag and probably choke on my own vomit if I was suddenly rained on by human blood, or any blood for that matter.

We're finally getting there.

Let me know what you guys think so far!

[chronically-ghosted]

Have Yourself a Moreno Little Christmas

rating: T

pairing: marcus moreno x f!reader

word count: 6K

summary: when the Morenos' happy Christmas is in jeopardy, you think quick and invite them on a trip to an old family tradition. If he’s grateful, would it be safe to tell him how you feel? But why do you think he might already know? What if he feels the same way?

warnings: heavily influenced by the movie While You Were Sleeping, your typical amount of angst for a romcom, mutual pining, ballet in the park, a moody pre-teen, brief discussions of losing a loved one (parent/partner), bad dad jokes, canoodling in the park, one steamy kiss and a few other softer ones

a/n: Happy Secret Santa @noisynaia! You had Marcus M as your number one Pedro boy of choice, and given that I’d never written for him before, I wanted to do something wholesome and sweet in the world of super heroes. The Nutcracker has always been near and dear to me so I hope you like this take on it! @pedrostories

This will be my last fic of 2023 so - much love, stay warm, and happy holidays! 🤍Masterlist

What do you get a man who has everything for Christmas? A tie? A money clip? Something aggressively manly that smells like woodsmoke, patchouli oil, and the raw sweat of a lumberjack after felling a thousand forests?

What do you get a superhero for Christmas? Indestructible tights? A decorative plaque for his swords? A life-time supply of gauze and iodine? 

What do you get for your boss, superpowered and single, with the ability to turn a paperclip into a rose? A silver ball into a flat pancake? Decorative swords into deadly weapons? What do you get him that is even remotely useful or exciting or heartwarming when he is so busy with being a single father and mentor, a symbol and an icon, all while running the world’s foremost superhero operation? 

Somehow, “world’s best boss” mug feels rather . . . subpar. 

What do you get him if he’s become one of your closest friends? When you try to wiggle some sort of information out of him about a potential gift on one of the many long nights where you’re stuck together doing paperwork for the UN and the NSA – but he is annoyingly vague. 

His daughter – a fiery mix of headstrong and thoughtful, soothed by a loving kindness that clearly runs in the family – is no help. She teases you with promises “oh yeah, definitely get him a new spatula” when you both know the man has never been anywhere near a BBQ grill. You give her the rest of the Reeses that didn’t make it into the community candy bowl anyway. 

You can’t ask for ideas from his mother, or his teammates, the security guards at the headquarter doors, anyone with eyes (who’s not ten years old) because then they’ll know, you sure of it. They’ll see and that’s just not something you can ever, ever, ever bring up because . . . 

What do you get for a man who is your boss, a superhero, a leader, a father, your boss, a very close friend, your boss, someone you very much admire . . . and as a result, have fallen deeply, painfully, achingly in love with?

Your still beating heart on a silver platter seems like the obvious choice. A bowl of your tears for unrequited love is a definitely strong second option. A lock of your hair so the FBI can easily identify you as his certifiably insane stalker – there we go, brilliant idea. 

A kiss under the mistletoe? A promise for more? 

That damned mug is looking better and better every day.

You knock three times, then one more before opening the door. Behind unnecessarily thick glasses, Marcus glances up, life returning to his face when his eyes fall on you.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but the president of Belize is on line one for you.” 

The man with sticky, molded blonde hair sitting across from Marcus turns around and smiles. His teeth are freakishly white, all stacked together in tight, proper rows. His suit, freshly pressed and clean of any evidence of interaction with the world, carries a giant button on the lapel: Vote Tine!

“President of Belize, my, my, Mr. Moreno, you are a busy man!”

Marcus stands, his gaze peeling off you to the politician in front of him. “Mr. Tine, I apologize, but I have to cut this meeting short–,”

“Ah, it’s no trouble at all!” He stands, batting his hand through the air. “Just as long as we’ll see you at the next rally, right, Marcus?” 

He holds out a perfectly square hand and with a tight-lipped grin, Marcus shakes Tine’s hand. 

“We’ll see, Senator.”

“Wonderful, wonderful, alright, I’ll get out of your hair. Mr. Moreno . . .” he bows slightly before turning in the direction of the door. You catch a glimpse of him the instant the smarmy smile slides off his face as, with wolf-ish eyes, he evaluates you from your ankles to the candy-cane broach on your chest. You don’t smile as you shut the door after him – as if you’d be bothered by greasy politicians and their wandering eyes. 

Marcus all but slumps back in his chair before taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes with his palms.

“Every time election season comes around, they all want the Heroics’ vote. Until Miracle Guy chucks Dr. Evil through the Empire State Building and suddenly it’s ‘we need these vigilantes off our streets’ . . .” He shakes his head and slips his glasses back on, watching as you take the vacated seat. “Sorry, none of this is your problem. What does the president of Belize want?”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” you say, tapping the corner of your pad with your stylus, “his slogan sucks. Justine Tine – just in time. I’m not unconvinced he didn’t change his name for the sake of a cheesy one-liner.” 

A small smile cracks open the dreary look on Marcus’s face. His eyes flicker to the door. “Seems like the type, doesn’t he? I think you’re onto something.” 

“So that’s item one, for the day.” You stand, curling your pad into your arms, you lean on Marcus’s desk, knee against the edge. 

He stares intently at your face. 

“Number two, I just checked our records and there’s no Dr. Evil anywhere in our data banks. The Empire State building is safe, for now, so you can stop worrying about that.” 

You mime-checking off something on your pad and the grin on Marcus’s face softens. 

“And number three . . .” you pick up the phone on his desk, that suspiciously doesn’t have any blinking red lights. Marcus frowns, noticing this for the first time, when you lift up the receiver and drop it down. His mouth parts.

“Belize has a monarchy. A king, not a president.” 

The frown deepens. You wait. And light parts the sky. 

“Oh. Oh – you didn’t – that’s – really?”

His eyes are round, wide, relieved, and you want nothing more than to run your hands through those curls. To rub those broad shoulders loose of their tension. But rearranging meetings and make up fake world leaders to give him a break is the best you can do. 

“Yes, really. The Heroics are prepared to make a sizable donation to Tine’s cause, and he will thank us at his next rally. So, Mr. Moreno, your next meeting isn’t for another hour, how would you like to spend it?” You smile, tapping your hanging shoe on the ball of your foot. “I suggest using it to eat something. Have you eaten anything today?” 

Marcus sighs, eyes falling shut for just a moment. “What, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, would I do without you?” 

You avert your eyes before the heat in your cheeks climbs too high, his eyes on you, and you hop off his desk. 

“Would you, hmm,” you clear your throat, your voice cracking in half, “would you like me to order something and have it delivered, Mr. Moreno?” 

He’s chewing on the skin below his lip when you raise your head from the pad in your arms. Being indestructible is one thing; having his face entirely inscrutable is one of Marcus’s most impressive superpowers. He nods, the look of distant contemplation gone. He flips through a few of the notes you’ve left him on his desk – calls to return, items for next week, reports he needs to sign: busy work. 

“Yeah, uh, that’s great. Pick something up for yourself too.” 

The mood has soured and you’re not quite sure how or why it happened. A second ago Marcus looked like he was going to pick you up and twirl you around the room. Now, he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You nervously tap your stylus against your pad. 

“Yes, Mr. Moreno.” 

You turn to go, his head down, his gaze fixated on whatever isn’t you, when he calls out your name again.

“Oh, um, did you manage to get anything out of Missy abour what she wants for Christmas when she was here last Friday?” 

You pause, remembering the uncharacteristically morose girl spinning listlessly in your chair while you watched from the break room as the hot cocoa warmed up in the microwave. You’d never seen so much as a pout on the girl before and no matter what you did, she didn’t crack a single smile.

“No, she didn’t tell me anything, but . . .” Now this is the part of your job that you loathe the most: trying to figure out the line. You saw Marcus as a friend, absolutely, but it’s not like you went and played volleyball on the beach with him, or went bar-hopping, or whatever it is adults with friends do. You love Missy more than you thought you could ever care about a child who isn’t your own, but you wavered how much to press her on her mood, because how did she see you? Nothing more than her father’s employee, most likely. In the end, you ended up getting one word answers from her until Marcus left his office thirty minutes later. 

But here you go, overstepping boundaries . . .

“Mr. Moreno, is she alright? The last time she was here, she seemed . . . I don’t know, sad?”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, his eyes sharpened. You opened your mouth to profusely apologize when –

“Fuck.” Marcus tosses his glasses onto his desk and buries his head in his hands. The instinct to put your arms around him is so strong you take a step forward before you remember exactly who you are. 

How do you comfort the man you love when you shouldn’t love him at all? How do you comfort a superhero, when he’s a father first and human second?

Keeping the desk firmly between you, you drop your pad onto one of the chairs and as slowly as you dare, you touch his forearm. He leans, not away, but towards you. He lowers his arms as you keep your touch on him. You squeeze once, looking down at his hopeless expression. 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen with Missy?”

Marcus shifts his arm beneath your fingers, his fingers twitching, as if he wants to take your hand but instead puts his other hand over yours.

“This Christmas has just been really hard.” 

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them: “tell me.”

He looks up at you, eyes warm and wide in a way that only his can. Indestructible in the face of evil, inscrutable with his secrets, Marcus’s greatest weakness is Missy, and he knows it. You know you’re crossing a dozen professional lines leaning over him like you are, touching him like you are, asking him to open up. But you don’t care.

He presses his lips together, hesitant. He won’t look you in the eye. “You have to understand something first. Missy’s mom loved Christmas.”

His hand over yours tightens gently as if he thinks you’re going to pull away. You hadn’t considered it but your palm went a little damp at the mention of her. 

Oh God, you’ve so played your hand wrong.

Marcus inhales, his gaze on your knuckles. “Isabel, that was her name, and every year Isabel made Christmas this big event. And every Christmas she bought Missy a little nutcracker. Missy was barely out of diapers at the time, I don’t think she even knew what they were, but she loved them. Thought they were the funniest things with their teeth and stuffy white hair . . . but he other day, going through the decoration box, Missy found them all and I guess she suddenly remembered all those Christmases with her mom and she, uh . . .” 

He taps your wrist with his thumb, a tell he has when he’s nervous. The seat squeaks slightly as he adjusts himself in it.

“I haven’t been putting out the nutcrackers that Isabel gave Missy. The Christmas after she died, I couldn’t bring myself to put out any sort of real decorations, except for the tree. Missy was so young, I don’t think she cared. But as she got older, she never asked about the nutcrackers so I hoped she just . . . forgot about them. And she did, until she found them last Friday.”

“Last Friday?” You feel like you’ve been sucking on cotton. “Before she came to the office?”

Marcus nods. 

“Oh, M-Mar-Mr. Moreno, I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.” 

“She was furious that I tried to hide something of her mother’s from her. And she’s right. I was a coward.” 

This move is an intentional one. You slip your hand out from his and cup his fingers around yours, as if guiding him. He finally looks up at you, guilt and shame and grief streaking his face like blurry rain against a window pane. 

“You are the bravest man I know, Marcus Moreno. You’re a superhero and a single father. Most people can barely handle one. She’ll come around, I promise.” 

You swallow the urge to bring his knuckles to your lips, and instead squeeze both of his hands and let go. You slide away from the desk, your heart tight in your chest when his thumbs pass over the palm of your hand. The look on his face is disappointed, you want to believe.

“Thank you. For listening and, uh, everything else. You’re right. I’ll just . . . well, I don’t know what I’ll do but I’ll figure something out.” He leans back, elbows on the chair’s handles. Marcus Moreno, or what you know of him, doesn’t like to dwell, so you watch some of the heaviness shift from his eyes the moment he decides to change the subject. “What are you doing for Christmas? Are you staying in town? Going to see family – or a boyfriend?”

The warm in your chest, lingering from his hands, suddenly bolts across your face. “No, no, um, no, there’s no one –,” Would it be pathetic if you fanned yourself with your pad? God, how does the man work in here for hours with no fresh air? “No, I’m not going home to anyone but I am . . .”

And suddenly there it is. A solution to your Christmas present debacle and maybe a way to save Christmas for Missy Moreno.

You shake your head, beating back the rising heat in your cheeks. “Actually, are you and Missy doing anything this weekend?”

Marcus seems taken aback from this sudden turn in the conversation.

“Um, no. I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“If you’ll let me, I’d like to show you and Missy something really, really special.” 

You swear the tips of his ears go pink. “Uh, okay. Sure. I-I’ll have to clear it with Missy, but yeah, alright. What time?”

“I’ll put it in your calendar.” You smile and slip your stylus back into your pad. “Have a nice lunch, Mr. Moreno.” 

He shakes his head and scratches the back of his neck as you head for the door. 

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me, Marcus? 

You pause with your handle on the door. “At least once more, Mr. Moreno.”

The mug drops to last place.

Good news. 

If you’re ever stranded on a desert island, you’ll survive because you are already intimately familiar with the taste of your own foot in your mouth.

Why did you open with “Hey Missy, your dad tells me you’ve been having a rough Christmas?” to a sullen, grieving pre-teen? 

And can time actually go slower, when the air is so stifled with tension? When you’re absolutely sure you’re breathing too loud?

You’ve been glancing at Missy in the rear view mirror for the dozenth time in twice as many miles. Her face is turned towards the window so you can’t actually see the murderous rage in her eyes, but oh wow do you feel it. Nevermind superpowers, this little girl could char you to a crisp with her eyes alone. Potential step-mom failure award goes to . . . 

“So.” Marcus clears his throat and you tear your eyes back from the back of his daughter’s head. The fraught silence of the car stretches just long enough after Marcus’s statement to grate ever so gently – “um, how do you, uh, know about this place? Wherever, we’re going.” 

You bite the corner of your mouth. Marcus doesn’t appear angry that you’ve soured the mood with Missy before the drive even began. In fact, he looks genuinely curious, the light in his eyes bright. If it weren’t for that single line between his brows, you assume nothing is wrong, but you know that almost frown. Marcus is anxious. 

Great. 

You settle back in your seat, trying to look as relaxed as you can in a pillowy jacket, your hat and gloves in Marcus’s lap, along with his own. The snow outside stopped falling only a few minutes ago, lining the trees and road with a crisp sparkling white. If anything, it ended up being a beautiful day. 

You flex your hand around the steering wheel, trying to summon courage up through your body like your lungs inhale air. 

“It’s an old family tradition, actually. My folks would take us out here every year to watch . . . to watch the show.” You glance at him briefly before checking to see if that piqued anything from the roiling black cloud in the back. It didn’t. You hadn’t told either one of the Morenos your plans for this Christmas day. “But I haven’t been back in a while.”

“Why not? And please don’t say it's because of work.” The lilt in his voice has you looking at him, long enough to watch a small smile uncurl. You really thought it was impossible for Marcus Moreno to get any cuter, but with his woolen floppy cap covering his ears and the little white bob at the end fluttering in the warm heater air, you force yourself to remember you’re driving a 3000 pound metal death machine if you stare, starry-eyed, for too long. 

“No, it’s not because of work,” you grin back and his own crosses completely across his mouth. “It’s not work related . . . but um, after my parents passed away, my brother and sister moved across the country.” Your hands crinkle around the steering wheel. “I’ve spent most of my Christmas’s alone ever since. Coming here without them, i-it felt . . . wrong.”

In the rear view mirror, you think you see her move.

“That’s terrible. I’m sorry.” The weight of Marcus’s gaze, his own planetary gravitational pull, has your nose drawing down then over. He looks genuinely regretful of your situation and you’re suddenly hit with the understanding that not only did Missy lose a mother, but Marcus lost a wife. 

Hell, maybe you can just continue up the bone and eat your whole leg while you’re at it. 

“Mhm hmm.”

The rest of the car right goes on in silence, except for the faint, ghost-like christmas carols playing from the speakers through your phone. 

When you pull off the dirt road and park your car in the cold grass with dozens of other vehicles, you can’t unbuckle fast enough. The patches of icy dead grass snap beneath your boots as you climb out of the car, and you’re struck in the face with a chilly wind. 

The words are on your tongue as you look at him over the hood of the car, the breeze snagging the little puff ball on the end of his cap, his glasses already misting over.

I’m so sorry, Marcus, this was such a bad idea. 

I don’t know how to talk about my grief or anyone else's and it’s been drowning me for years but I don’t want to pull you down with me. 

I’ll drive you anywhere you want I’m so– 

“Is this the Stanley Amphitheater?” Marcus takes off his glasses and rubs the condensation away. “This is where they have that jazz festival every summer, right?”

You’re so surprised by his tone that all you can do is blurt out: “yes.”

“So cool! I’ve actually been dying to check this place out!”

“Y-yeah?”

He smiles at you and you have to grab onto the door frame to keep your knees from buckling. 

“C’mon, Missy.” 

Tugging his hat further over his head, Marcus lopes forward and then he turns and reaches out for his daughter. The moment arcs, Missy’s stone faced glare demanding that he drop his hand, that he turn away from her, an inch away from leaving a mark that aches in a way that only a loving parent can feel from their loved child –

And she takes his hand. 

You watch them follow the crowd, blanket in hand, just a few steps behind them, and you breathe out.

Across the stone amphitheater, a low murmur of dozens of eager voices vibrate in the dugout cup of the earth. Children squirm with anticipation in their parents’ laps, couples share lingering gazes over steaming styrofoam cups of hot chocolate, an air of excitement and delight hovering between chapped lips and knitted gloves as the sun arcs lower in the sky. Just in front of the large stage, a live orchestra prepares, discordant cords breaking and rising like smoke. 

A man in a striped hat sells buttery popcorn and sweet, crunchy kettle corn in a small wooden hut a distance from the theater. A few families wait in line, children teasing one another behind their parents, their laughter light on the breezy air. 

“So, what is this?” Your head whips around at Missy’s first sentence all day. Marcus looks at you equally stunned. The blanket you’ve spread across three laps keeps you intentionally close so you have to lean back slightly to see her face.

“It’s, um–,”

“Missy, do you like ballet?” You ask

Beneath her maroon hat, her eyes lift up, her back straightening from its hunch. You wouldn’t call her look eager, but you cannot deny there’s interest. 

She nods. 

“Well, what we’re about to see is a very special ballet performance. Some people who have powers like your dad, they don’t go into crime fighting. Instead, they use their powers to make art.” 

She blinks, eyes widening. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” 

The fringe smile is hidden by a curtain of hair as Missy tilts her head down to her shoes, nodding. Marcus glances at you over the wool of her hat, surprise thinning the lines around his eyes.

“It’s getting kind of cold,” he says slowly, to no one in particular. “Anyone want some hot chocolate?”

“I do,” you wave. Missy nods, grumbling. 

Marcus waves over a woman in a striped hat as she wanders through the crowd. The metal box, hanging around her neck and strapped to her back reads, refreshments. 

He pays for three styrofoam cups just as the lights in the back of the amphitheater flicker and the orchestra winds down to silence. 

Despite the burgeoning chill in the air, and despite the grief dividing yet binding the three of you, and despite the fact that this may be your one chance for Marcus to see you as anything other than his assistant, you’re hopeful. Maybe it’s the music itself, that way that music has to ignite your soul when you need it the most, or maybe it’s the spirit of the season, but for the first time in a long, long time, you don’t feel so lonely. In fact, you can’t remember a time you’ve felt more connected than you do with the people next to you. 

Missy’s eyes are bright, flitting around the stage as if determined to not miss a single thing, the cocoa in her hands leaving a dark rim around her mouth that she is blissfully ignorant of. That already full feeling in your chest expands and you want nothing more than to hug her, hug her till she’s warm and hug her till she’s happy. Behind her, her father moves and it catches your eye.

Marcus has never looked at you before the way he is now. Inscrutable, undefined, but it packs such a punch in your chest it feels like you gulped down your entire cup of hot chocolate in one go. You turn away, fearful of what he might see in your eyes, and realize the enormity of what you feel, how it’s all consuming and tugs at you when you least expect it. 

The music begins to swell just as the sun sets and the lights at the rim of the theater fade. You take a shaky inhale – nerves and excitement and memories good and bad weighing on your shoulders. 

And then it begins to snow. 

But not from the sky and it’s not yet cold enough for the consistent sprinkle. Snowflakes tangle with your eyelashes, in the wool of your cap. Then Missy gasps as a translucent ice crystal the size of her palm trickles down into her lap. Glinting like glass, the intricate design of the crystal flashes once before disappearing – not melting – just gone. Around you, other children hold out, giggling their hands as more beautiful flakes of enormous size flutter down from the inexplicable snow drift. A few adults reach out to grab some that burst like bubbles, a wondrous awe crescendoing across the crowd. 

From the wings of the stage, a man and a woman, dressed in beautiful light blues and silvers, silks glittering with inset shimmering stones, walk across the stage, their arms moving slowly, thoughtfully. 

In sync, they coax the air and the snow follows in a dance of white. Delighted shouts rise up as the snow and ice spin together, arcing and weaving, capturing the essence of a winter wind. The pair on stage bend, their hands flung backwards in a bow and the ball of snow shatters in an icy solar flare, the million white flakes fluttering over the crowd. 

Out of the exhilarated murmur that overtakes the crowd, one noise stands out above the rest. 

Missy laughs. She laughs as she watches a snowflake melt on the end of her nose. 

You wish desperately you could squeeze her to you.

The crowd applauds the snow dancers, bowing again before exiting the stage, as a woman in black steps out. Her short-cropped hair is nearly as white as the snow still melting on the ground and her eyes are crinkled at the edges. When she speaks, her voice booms without the aid of a mic. 

“Thank you and welcome to another annual Stanley Kirby production of The Nutcracker.”

Missy’s smile doesn’t fall from her face. In fact it widens. Your heart is pounding in your chest, as you watch her from the corner of your eye.

“I’ve been directing this play for twenty years now and I can honestly say I find something new and beautiful about it every time. Winter is often seen as the end stage, symbolized through literature and poetry as the time when we humans grow old. But I like to think that doesn’t always have to be true. Spirit, however you like to think of it, is exactly that: an endurance, a bravery, a force greater than ourselves that we can either embrace or let slide through our fingers. We hope you leave today with a little bit more spirit in you. Thank you for coming and we hope you enjoy the show.” 

She bows as two men enter in from the wings, these dressed in brown and green, the crowd clapping for both the director and the new players. 

A little girl, in ballet shoes and a pink dress with ruffles, her hair down to her back and tied out of her face with a bow, joins them on the stage and sits down in the center as the heavy velvet curtains pull back to reveal a backdrop imitating a hallway. With a large door, two round, gilded mirrors and a single chair. 

The orchestra begins, the dancers lifting their hands with a wave of a conductor. 

Shadows flicker at the back of the theater, eliciting shocked, almost horrified gasps from the crowd. But you know what’s coming. You don’t turn around. You smile.

Beside you both Missy and Marcus stare, mouths open, as eleven foot tall wooden nutcrackers amble down the stone steps between the seats, their knees stocky, their weight uneven as they march towards the stage. Their giant mouths creak and groan as the switch on their backs moves without any visible force. The green and red paint shines in the lights from the stage, their silver buttons glowing like stars. The dancers in brown coax them closer with a curl of their fingers and a bend in their arms. They begin to sway and spin across the stage, their legs outstretched and their feet curved into satin shoes, the little girl paying them no mind. Instead, she gets on her knees and waves to the marching soldiers.

More awed gasps as now teddy bears then porcelain dolls, the size of elephants, follow the nutcrackers down the steps, the orchestra keeping time and building a sense of whimsy and joy. The little girl bounds to the edge of the stage as the first wave of soldiers approaches. With a kiss from her hand into the wind, the first nutcracker freezes and then shrinks, the dancer behind the girl flicking his wrist. The crowd hums with delight as the nutcracker, now the size of a toy, floats next to the chair. One by one, the little girl greets the marching toys just before they shrink and find a place next to the chair. 

With the last doll fluttering in the wind as it settles, the little girl spins and twirls until she drops into the chair and seemingly to sleep.

The crowd roars with joy, a thunderous applause swelling in the amphitheater. 

But, best of all, Missy is on her feet, cheering and clapping. Her face glows in the light of the stage, her eyes bright and hopeful, her cheeks pink and chapped. In the shadows that flicker of people moving and applauding, beyond Missy’s curly hair, Marcus stares at you in a way that makes your heart grow bigger with every beat, his own silent music swelling the cage of your ribs. 

He reaches out his hand for you and you take it. 

He keeps holding you long after Missy sits down and the ballet continues.

A nearby park has set up Christmas lights in the trees and on the pathway. Missy, after promising to stay close, has gone and disappeared in the dark, off playing with a few of the other children who stayed after the show was over. 

Families sit on benches under covered awnings, the dark night cold but not encroaching, a food truck selling churros and Mexican hot chocolate mystifying the chilly air into white puffs as they serve eager mouths and cold hands. 

You walk the lighted path with Marcus, your arm tucked up around his. 

The sounds of children laughing fill the comfortable silence between you two. 

“This is going to be embarrassingly underwhelming,” he says quietly, the warmth of his body enough to keep a shiver at bay. “But thank you. That was incredible. I mean, I’ve seen The Nutcracker before, but this . . .”

He trails off, shaking his head, awe curling his mouth open.

“It’s pretty fantastic, right?” You smile up at him and squeeze his arm. 

He closes his mouth just as his eyebrows jump.

“Kinda makes me wonder if I picked the wrong profession, if other people are using their powers like that.” 

You chuckle lowly. “Ha, as if there’s anything you could be except a superhero.” 

“What do you mean?” The tone in his voice makes you pause. Just around the curve of the path, you’re hidden by silver-dripped trees and frost-covered shrubs. No children run here and the lights on the path are muffled by the overgrowth.

His eyes are dark when you look into them, but dark in the way under the covers of your parents bed is dark, or the dark in your friend’s mouths when they’re torn open with laughter. Dark in a way that holds and comforts and sinks deep. White mist puffs from his chapped lips, nose pink and cold. The lint from his scarf has stuck to the base of his neck. 

“You have to save people. It’s who you are. I don’t believe for a second there’s any part of you that could sit by and watch terrible things happen to good people. Your powers don’t change that.” You swallow, fingering the snaps on his coat as you stand face to face, the decision to say the words on your tongue nearly splitting you apart. “You saved me. If that counts for anything. You saved me from being alone on another really shitty Christmas and I–,”

The soft but determined press of his lips against yours brings silence to the grove, your words dissipating into the air like snowflakes. The whole of the world narrows down to the sensation of his mouth on yours; you forget the cold, the chilly burn on your cheeks, the sweat on your hairline where your woolen cap sits. You forget the sound of people in the distance, forget the lights in the darkness. He kisses like he works, methodically, confidently, and with intention.

His well-kept mustache tickles your nose, his lips a little torn from the cold, but the heat of his mouth warms you to your core. He holds you, his scratchy mitten against your cheek, the rest of him staying perfectly still, letting you savor his touch, commit the shape of his mouth, and by the quietest of moans rumbling in his chest, you think he might be doing the same. 

In the split second where you think he’s going to pull back, he cups the back of your head in his glove, sealing the hair around your shoulders to the collar of your jacket. Emboldened by your soft inhale, he turns his head, opening his mouth and more of himself up to you, and you, in turn, run as far as you can with this. You slip your arms around his scarf, trying to get at the heat of his throat, as he gathers as much as he can of you into him. 

You aren’t sure who eases you both back down from the clouds, who lifts hands and pulls apart, but your mouths separate, your noses inches from each other, and great plumes of white mist rise from your heated gasps.

“So I’m not crazy,” he murmurs, his eyes nearly completely hidden behind condensation. “There is something here. You feel it too.”

“Yes, Marcus, God, yes.” You close your eyes and bump your head against his as he sniffs in the cold, his cheeks flaming.

“That’s what it takes to get you to call me Marcus, huh? A kiss that knocks your socks off?”

You shake your head, laughing, your nose seeking out the solace of his warm skin. “‘Knocks your socks off’, you’re such a dad.” 

“Yeah, I am. And you made my daughter happier than I’ve seen her in weeks. I’ll never forget that.” 

The heavy rasp of his voice has your eyes seeking out his. You can’t quite find what you’re looking for behind the glasses, but his relaxed open mouth, the tilt of his head down to you, begs for more.

“W-wait – wait, Marcus.” You fight the sudden spark of images flying across your mind; his bare hands, free of gloves and mittens and wool, lifts your shirt up and those soft lips imprint themselves on the curve of your stomach; scorching water turns his back bright red as he tugs your knees tighter around his waist don’t worry I’ve got you; waking up to him stretched out naked and loose and finally relaxed. Your heart squeezes at the mere fantasy. Everything you’ve ever wanted, inches from your outstretched fingertips. “Are you serious about this?” 

Marcus grins, kisses your nose, and pulls you in by your scarf, as if you could possibly get any closer.

“Yes, I’m sure. Very sure. I haven’t made a choice this easy in years. Wait, I want to look you in the eyes when I say this.” He lets you go only to smear the condensation away from his glasses. Remind him to wear his contacts the next time you go out in the snow. 

Next time next time next time

“There.” He slips those thick-framed glasses back over his nose and then takes your hand. He holds it near his heart. “I like you and my kid adores you. I’ve been slowly going crazy at my desk, hoping that the way you smile at me is only for me, and that you don’t know anyone else’s coffee order by heart.” You huff a laugh, if only to loosen the knot in your throat. “What? I’m serious.” He chuckles with you before taking you into your arms again. His lips are warm against your forehead. “I’ve had it bad for you ever since you started, but I never said anything because I knew you were new to the city and you didn’t need your boss crypt-keeping on you.”

“I think the correct term the kids use is just creeping, but I get your point.” You tilt your head up into his waiting gaze. Warm like chocolate. Warm like the sturdy earth. Warm like . . . “And if my employment is the only thing keeping us apart, then I totally quit.”

“Good, ‘cause you’re totally fired.” 

You both laugh into each other, mist rising from your mouths, the corners of your mouths splitting in the cold. The temperature is steadily dropping, but you can’t seem to care. In fact, one big gust of wind could blow you away, suddenly lighter than air. 

“So does this mean I don’t have to get you a World’s Greatest Boss gift?”

He kisses your cheek and you feel it in your toes. “You’ve already given me exactly what I wanted.” 

“Merry Christmas, Marcus.”

“Merry Christmas, baby.”