#thank you for your kind comments and detailed theories

[sunnami]

❝time will tell.❞

[credits to the original artist of the photo!! can't seem to find their @ anywhere. title is taken from jane austen's persuasion, as was the first part.]

summary. ❝you are loved. and harry thinks there is no better description that that.❞

pairing/s. poly!mauraders + lily x reader.

word count. 9.5k.

tags. reader is referred to mum, with she/her pronouns[!], canon-typical violence [!], canon-typical deaths mentioned[!], very brief marauders as soldiers of the order[!], creepy old men being creepy[!], child abuse[!], pureblood arranged marriages, a minor character expresses wanting to die[!], Depressed and Traumatized Slytherins, the capital is important[!], themes of misogyny [!], teen boys fuck around and find out there are consequences to their actions, THERE IS ACTUALLY A LOT OF FLUFF, I PROMISE YOU, angst, children lose their baby teeth up until the age of twelve!! google said so!! not proofread we die like dobby the free elf

note. damn, i cried, you cried, we all crode. tbh, the first part was only intended as a oneshot, sdfkhdf, but when i re-read it, i thought that i could have expanded on more details,, so now here we are!! i love it more than the first part ueueue. thank you all so so so much for the kind comments :((( please please enjoy the second part to this installment!! part one

HARRY JAMES POTTER was only a few months old when you died at the hands of Voldemort — or as strangers have told him every time they ravaged his personal space and ogled at his scar. They said it was a quick death, better than what had happened to Alice and Frank Longbottom. But that was all they’ve ever said about your death. Unfortunate; caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, entirely different from the pedestal James and Lily have been put on by the wizarding society. 

At first, Harry had wondered if it was due to your blood relations, being the daughter of a renowned Death-Eater, heiress to the fortune of a pureblood House. Harry can’t even count the amount of conspiracy theories he’s read or heard to his face that it must have been you who betrayed James and Lily, and not Sirius Black. 

Even Hermione’s shared to him a theory that your death was faked to surrender your loyalty completely to Voldemort — of course, Hermione was eleven at the time, head full of books and her favorite theories, and Harry’s already forgiven her. But there’s a part of him that despises the way he’s never known the full truth about his parents, just bits of information dangled in front of him like bait for people [read: the Dursleys] to get him to do what they want, to act like the way they want. Until Remus and Sirius, you were a stranger to him, really.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

IT IS RATHER UNFORTUNATE that Madam Pince has already taken her position as the unbearable librarian at this point in time. The woman gives Harry and you a pointed look as you slam the large book onto one of the tables — to Harry’s surprise, you glare right back at her. You’re awfully flushed, however, blushing cheeks betraying the fire in your eyes; it must have been from when Remus escorted the two of you to the library; he had tried to brush your hand with his pinky, to which you had responded with a startled hiss — Remus only smiled and chuckled at you, and Harry swears he’d like to forget that entire interaction because he saw literal stars in Remus’s eyes.

Jumping back in time and potentially causing chaos? Fun. 

Meeting your parents? Definitely fun, in the strangest of ways. 

But watching them pine and fall for each other? Not so fun. 

Nonetheless, he hesitantly takes the seat across yours and watches you flip through the pages until you land on a chapter with the large, bold letters: THE CURIOUS CASE OF ELOISE MINTUMBLE — Time-Travel and Its Many Dangers. He meets your gaze with a sheepish grin, mustering a look of innocence; except the puppy dog eyes only worked when he was nine — you are not amused. 

You slide the book towards him, scarily resembling Molly Weasley when she’s miffed with the twins. “You are aware, right, that just by existing here you’ve changed the future? Your future? And, that’s not even the worst thing that could happen.” 

Harry sulks. “Yes, mum.” He prefers not to think about it, actually, it makes his head hurt. 

“Don’t call me that in public!” You whisper heatedly, looking over your shoulder to check if anyone had heard him — to your luck, the library was empty, save for a Hufflepuff that was passed out on top of his books. “The less people that know about this, the better. It’s bad enough we told Potter about you. Do you even know what you’re going to do?” 

“Considering I was thrown here against my will, no.” Harry shrugs. “And to be honest, I was just going to obliviate the people who asked too many questions.”

You reach over to smack his head, scowling.

“Ow! That hurt!” Harry rubs the sore spot as he grumbles petulantly. “This is technically child abuse, did you know that?” 

You roll your eyes. “Do you at least have a plan to get home?” 

“Of course I do,” Harry retorts with a scoff, “Her name is Hermione Granger.” 

“Hopeless.” You groan exasperatedly. “Absolutely hopeless.” 

Harry only grins in response. For a brief moment, he forgets about the present — his reality where the skies are bleak and home is where he knows the feeling of loss more than the warmth of his own parents’ embrace. He lets himself forget, and pretends he isn’t the Boy Who Lived. Just some random boy who’s pestering his mother — even if she likes to deny the inevitability of being romanced by the Marauders, (except for Wormtail because Harry would eat troll slime before he ever lets that happen.)

“Right then,” You say after your tangent — which Harry tuned out when he hears the words, be responsible. “If I’m going to help you get back home—” 

Harry’s heart drops to his stomach; as selfishly as it sounds, he didn’t want to go home just yet — not to where people just took and took from him. He’s exhausted. Still, he puts up a front of being excited to be returned to his timeline. It’s for the greater good, of course, because his existence — present or past — is always somehow a threat to the wizarding society. 

“—you need to answer this one question for me.” Your voice drops lower as you stare at him intently, lips pressed firmly. 

Harry nods slowly. “As long as it’s within reason, yeah.” 

You inhale sharply. “Do I outlive Dolores Umbridge?” 

The wince escapes Harry before he can even stop it. 

That’s all the answer you need, apparently. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you slam your hands down onto the table surface, shrieking.

“That slimy bitch!” 

Needless to say, the two of you are kicked out of the library.

. �� ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1970; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

YOU ARE ELEVEN when your father introduces you to Ferguson, commonly known as Fergus, Bulstrode. He smiles at you with a leer, eyes hungrily dipping to the neckline of your dress. You grit your teeth as you hold out your hand for him to take — you almost shudder at the feel of his lips on your cheek. You eagerly take a step back away from him, hoping your father won’t notice the way you shy from Ferguson’s touch. You’re not dull, you fully understand the implications of this introduction and the way Ferguson is complaining to you about his third wife’s passing — as if you were the solution to his loneliness. Bile rises to your throat, and you shove it down with a forced laugh at your father’s jokes about Mudbloods. From across the room, Allegra Greengrass stares at you in sympathy, and you send her a glare — you do not need anyone’s pity. 

The corset your mother laced on too tight is suffocating you; this whole Yule extravaganza made for elitist purebloods is suffocating you; and yet, you smile and greet every red-lipped witch your mother introduces you to. For hours, you pretend, and you pretend. By the time the guests have left, you wonder if you have any more of yourself to give. 

You manage to convince your mother to let you slip away for the night. Without missing a beat, you rush outside and into the garden labyrinth, lest old Ferguson snatches you up for a dance and let his gaze wander elsewhere. For the first time since the sun had set, your aching feet finally find some relief. You drop onto the edge of the stone fountain as you toss your heels to the side. You begin working your fingers through your hair, ripping the glittery ribbons from your head. It’s not until you’re unclasping your necklace that you realize you are crying. Tears fall from your eyes, and they sink deep into the fabric of your dress. 

You barely hold back your sobs. Your chest heaves as you hiccup; your vision goes blurry as your fingers grow numb. There’s nothing you can do but cry. 

You’ve used up all your smiles for tonight. 

But then, the sadness turns into resentment and then turns into indignation. Harshly, you wipe the tears from your eyes as you rip a violent scream from your throat. 

You sink to the ground, perfectly polished nails digging into the soil as you gather patches of grass and tear them from the roots. You throw a handful of mud at the marble statues. You grab another fistful of mud, scream, then bash your head against the garden floor. You let out another cry, whimpering as you curl into yourself; shivering as a gust of wind brushes against your skin. Surprisingly enough, this is the most human you’ve ever felt. This is the most you have ever felt — period. 

When hiccups regress into soft sniffles, you lay on your back, watching the stars float above. As the last of your tears slide down your cheek, you lift a shaky hand to trace the constellation in the sky. It’s not a familiar one to you, but then— 

“That’s Sirius.” 

You sit upright in a snap, wiping away the wetness from your eyes as you muster a mean glare at the newcomer.

Sirius Black.

“Oh, none of that,” He tells you when you move to stand. There’s barely any emotion on his face and it irks you that you can’t figure out what he’s planning. What you don’t expect is for him to sit beside you, thereby ruining his expensively tailored suit. 

“You’ll get creases,” You scold him instinctively, nose scrunched — but your voice is hoarse; too tired to put up any pretences. “Your mother will be cross with you.” 

Sirius scoffs, laying his head on the dirt, making sure to smear his sleeves with grass stains. “Walburga can go fall in a ditch and die for all I care.”

You gasp. “That’s horrible!” 

Sirius gives you a look. “You don’t believe that.” 

You really don’t, but you don’t have the courage to admit it either. 

After a few moments of silence, Sirius asks, raising a brow, “So who was that?”

“Who was who?” You stare at him with knitted brows, toying with your fingers. You still can’t wrap your head around how weird this is — sitting with Sirius Black in the middle of your mother’s hedge maze, your once bright blue dress now sullied at the ruffles, eyes bloodshot and your hair a frizzy mess. (Sirius thinks you look cute, though; especially with your missing front tooth that peeks out every time you talk to him.) 

“Bald guy, older than Merlin himself.” Sirius makes a face. “Looks like a troll. Smells like one, too.”

A giggle flutters past your lips, and your hands fly to your mouth. You really shouldn’t be bad-mouthing your guests, but Sirius was right — Ferguson really did act like an ugly troll. You sigh, letting your arms fall to your side. ���My betrothed.” 

Sirius nods in understanding. “My mother tried to set me up with my own cousin once.” 

You grimace. “Which cousin?” 

He sits on his knees to face you, and with a very solemn face, he says, “Bellatrix.”

This time, you laugh freely, throwing your head back as Sirius pouts at your amusement. “O-Oh, that’s golden.” 

“No, it’s not,” says Sirius, lips twitching as he watches you snort like a pig through your giggles. “It’s horrible. A literal nightmare. You should feel awful for me.” He pokes your stomach, and it just makes you laugh harder, eyes disappearing into your smile. “Oi. I said feel awful, not take the piss out of me.” 

“S-Sorry.” You wheeze, batting away his hand pulling at your cheek. “I just can’t imagine Bellatrix in a white wedding dress and saying her vows to you.”

“That’s disgusting.” Sirius gags. “You’re horrible, I hope you know that.” 

When you finally calm down and Sirius tickles your bare feet until you cry in surrender, the two of you lay on the grass as he points out each constellation to you. Later, he fishes a small box of sugar mice from his pocket and offers it to you, opening one for himself. “Here’s to shitty parents and the one day we get to decide our own future.” 

You bump your squeaky candy mice against his. “Cheers, Black.” 

“Will you go to Hogwarts next year?” He asks you once he’s bitten off the tail of his mice. 

You nod. 

Sirius shifts on his side, holding his pinky out to you. “We’ll be friends when school starts?”

Again, you nod, wrapping your pinky around his. “Friends.” 

The next September comes, Sirius finds a compartment and one James Potter in it. You sit with Allegra Greengrass and Endora Lestrange on the way to Hogwarts. You are sorted into Slytherin, and Sirius finds freedom and a home in Gryffindor. You play the role created just for you; you lift your nose at those beneath you, adorn yourself in custom-made silk clothing, and carry yourself with the etiquette of a pure-blooded lady. Perfect grades, perfect hair, perfect clothes, always picture perfect.

You pretend that Allegra doesn’t throw up in the evenings from the fear of getting married to a man twice her age. You pretend that you don’t notice Endora sleep-walking and begging for her mother to save her from her father. You pretend that under your blankets, in the Slytherin dungeon, you are safe. 

You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Sirius looks at you in disappointment when you shove a Hufflepuff student to the ground for getting a higher score than you in Charms.

They call you an ice-princess behind your back, and you overhear some of the fifth-years calling you foul words as well, and no one steps in to stop them; there’s no defending a Slytherin, after all. But you are keeping your head above treacherous waters, and you suppose that is all that matters.) 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“SO ACCORDING TO THIS, Eloise was stuck in 1402 for five days until she was retrieved to the present, which means we only have four days left to figure out a way for you to get back home.” 

Harry sinks into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The two of you had found an empty classroom to discuss your plans away from inquisitive ears. “What’s the rush?” It’s unfair, he’d only just met you, and now he’s losing time with you. 

You sigh. “Harry, Eloise Mintumble spent five days in the past and when she came back, her body aged five centuries, and she died in St. Mungos. It’s not just about altering the whole timeline, you could actually die.” 

When you are met only with silence, you close the book, frowning. “Harry? What’s wrong?” 

Harry swallows the lump in his throat, looking out the window to avoid your gaze. “What do you know about the Mirror of Erised?” 

Your head tilts in confusion. “That it shows our heart’s deepest desire.” 

“Yeah,” says Harry, nodding. “I was eleven when I found it.” 

“Oh, Harry. . .” 

It’s almost pathetic how quickly his eyes water. “Did you know, before today, I hadn’t known at all what your voice sounded like?” 

You stay quiet, and Harry sucks in a shaky breath. 

“When I looked into the mirror, I saw my parents—all of you. There I was, in the middle. You were behind me—happy.” Harry swipes a tear from his eye. “I wanted to stay in that room, stare at that mirror forever.”

“It’s—”

“Dangerous, I know.” He laughs bitterly. “Just like finally being able to meet you all here.”

“Harry, you aren’t supposed to be here in the first place,” You say quietly, eyes drooping sadly. 

“I know that!” He exclaims desperately. “But is it so selfish to just want some time? I don’t want an illusion, I want the real thing. A real family. Why can’t I have that? Bloody Malfoy gets everything he wants, and what do I have?” 

“Your friends,” You tell him firmly. “Your friends who must be worried sick that you’re gone and must be going great lengths to bring you back.” 

“I know.” Harry wilts. He’s got Remus at home, too, who probably needs him more than ever after Sirius’s death. “I know. But can’t I just have this one thing?” 

You purse your lips for a moment, brows furrowed in thought. Then, you break the silence with: “Do you want to hear a story?”

“What?” Harry croaks, peering at you through wet lashes. 

Shrugging, you say, “Stories to remember us by. I’ve got six years worth of stories and then some. I know it’s not much, and you’ve probably heard some of these already from the others in the future, but it’s better than nothing, right?” You lean against the back of your chair, glancing at the wall clock before grinning at Harry. “We’ve got time to spare, anyway.” 

Harry manages a smile, setting down his glasses before rubbing his stinging eyes with the handkerchief you offer him. He figures this is what Remus means when you’re the gentlest creature he’s ever known — just not gentle in what the world expects you to be. 

“What do you say, Harry? I give you tidbits of the past, and you tell me if you know anything about the next Triwizard champion, so I can place my bets in advance.”  

Harry snickers. “Not a chance, mum.” 

“Worth a try.” And the smile you give him is nearly blinding. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1977; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND what it is about Gryffindors and their hobby of invading others’ personal space. 

A year into dating and James likes to shove his head under your shirt, claiming he loves the sound of your heartbeat — but you know really what he wants to nestle his head in between. The amount of cashmere blouses he’s ruined is absurd! Sirius has a hobby of tracing runes on the plane of your stomach. Lily prefers it when you sit in front of her, just within reach where she can wrap her arms around you and rest her head on your shoulder. Remus tends to lag behind the group when he notices you walking slower due to your leg flaring up. He kisses the side of your head and promises to chase the pain away — sappy poetic that he is. And in the moments where all five of you are together, tucked under a wide alcove, you can best believe there is no escaping what they like to call, a cuddle pile. Limbs are tangled, kisses are shared, and confessions of love are whispered. 

Before them, you hadn’t really known the different ways to love and be loved. 

Onto the pressing matters at hand, you discover that the brazen show of affection extends to their parents as well. Particularly, the Potters. After a year, you finally caved into James’s requests for you to spend the holidays at their manor, since the others have already made a space for themselves there, and James had said it would be an honor for you to feel at home with his parents, too. Honestly, you spoil them too much — one look into his bright, wide eyes and you gave in. James didn’t even care that you brought two luggages for clothes alone; he lifted each bag with delight and with ease. 

(Remus had the audacity to laugh when he caught you and Sirius staring at James’s flexed muscles, mouth wide open. 

“As I have said, Remus Lupin, I do not drool!”

“Sure, dove, whatever you say.”)

But now, you really aren’t so sure of your decision. 

“Oh, she’s beautiful, Jamie!” Euphemia encases you in a bear hug the moment you step inside the manor. You’re engulfed in the scent of cinnamon and burnt sugar. You stiffen as she cradles your face in between her palms, smiling ever so fondly at you, cooing about how precious you look, much like a mother would — and how your mother never did. You wonder if this is what you’ve been missing all along — the thought stabs you right in the heart. “Please excuse the mess, dear, we haven’t had the chance to clean up yet, Monty and I are excited to try the recipe Lily owled to us the other day, you see.” 

“I-It’s okay,” You rasp, struggling to hold back the tears. 

“Oh, what a darling you are!” Euphemia smiles and ushers you further inside. “Come, come. The others are right upstairs. You must be tired from the train ride. It is so lovely to finally meet you. Make yourself at home, dear heart — James Fleamont Potter! Give your mama a kiss this instant! Don’t think introducing your girlfriend will distract me from the fact you didn’t owl me letters for two months straight!” 

James whines as he hides behind you. “Mum, I’m seventeen, stop embarrassing me.” 

Euphemia scoffs, hands snapping to her hips. “You’re going to be my baby boy forever, now come here.” 

With a shy smile, you step away to surrender James to his mother — you don’t understand which part of this is embarrassing; you wish for a mum who’d welcome you home like that, with unconditional love and kind eyes. James squawks and calls you a traitor, just before his mum attacks him with loud, exaggerated kisses to his cheek, leaving lipstick stains all over his face. You hide a laugh behind your palm, ignoring the way your heart pangs at the sight of their unrestrained smiles. Euphemia lets her son go after a few more seconds, cackling at the masterpiece she’s created on a grumbling James, who’s rubbing his skin to erase his mother’s affections. She hugs you once more before setting you off, telling you to meet Fleamont after you’ve unpacked. 

Just as you reach the foot of the stairs, you hear a girlish squeal, then the sound of rapid footfall against each wooden step. Lily greets the two of you by jumping off the last step and wrapping each arm around yours and James’s neck. “Welcome home, Jamie!” She captures his lips with her own before doing the same to you, cupping your cheek lovingly, “So happy you made it, princess! How was the ride here?” 

You were never a fan of traveling by Floo; it made you nauseous after, and left you with a pounding headache for hours. Without hesitation, the others offered to accompany you on the train, but you insisted they Floo ahead to Godric’s Hollow — it took a lot of convincing, but they finally agreed, (they’re not the only ones spoiled; they couldn’t refuse you, too.) With the exception of James, who wanted to be there when you saw his home for the first time. You nearly cried when you saw how well-loved their manor was; rose shrubs dipped in snow, Sirius’s motorcycle parked outside, a mailbox with poorly painted shapes, the fences covered in Christmas lights, and the amount of shoes by the door. From outside, you could hear the laughter and warm conversations. 

“It was fine,” You say in a daze.

Lily sees right through you — and frowns sadly. “You alright?” 

Were you? 

You catch sight of the moving photographs of James and you finally reach your breaking point. There’s a swell in your throat that you can’t seem to push down. There’s a photo of James, Lily, Remus and Sirius; James is in his Quidditch jersey, raising the Golden Snitch high up in the air, Remus is twirling Lily, his arms around her waist, and Sirius is holding up a charmed banner that says: Gryffindor Rules! Slytherin Sucks! Except For My Darling Angel Love Of My Life Most Beautiful And Gorgeous Perfect Brilliant Girlfriend! 

There are hints of life all around the manor. Remus’s textbooks and scarf are laid by the coffee table. Lily’s O.W.L. marks are framed on the wall, along with Dumbledore’s letters to James and Lily awarding them the position of Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as McGonagall’s previous letter to Remus that came with his Prefect badge years ago. There’s a spot dedicated to Peter, filled with a photograph of him awkwardly holding his Herbology test, one that he scored a hundred and twelve percent on. It’s a wall dedicated to them, you realize. 

Then, you find it. 

Right there, up above James’s spot, and beside Sirius’s display of beyond perfect Transfiguration exam marks, and a picture of him and Remus kissing each side of your face. 

It’s a space on that wall just for you. 

James follows your gaze and rubs the back of his head, ears tinged with a shade of deep pink. “Mum left a space when I first told her about you. I-It’s yours, you can put anything you want there.” 

“I can’t,” You whisper, lips quivering as your heart cracks into a million pieces. It’s too much. 

James blinks. “Can’t? It’s yours, I promise. Mum won’t mind. You can even hang your dumb Montrose Magpies poster and I won’t tear it down — Marauders’ honor. I can help you if you want. I-I’m not good as decorating as Lily, but I paid attention to your boring explanation of color theory and I know that you hate this shade of—”

“James, I can’t do this.” 

That’s all you say before you run out of the door. 

(And you’re absolutely delusional if you think James won’t follow you out that door and into the brewing snowstorm.) 

You hear James call out to you, but you opt to ignore him and clutch your winter coat tighter around your body, shivering in the blowing wind, trudging through the deep snow through your heeled boots — designer couldn’t help you now even if you tried. You sniff, the salty taste of your tears dripping to your lips, chest tightening with a foreign kind of pain, and the frost nipping at your fingers. You give up after a few minutes, falling to the ground with an anguished cry, hand clutching the front of your chest as you struggle to breathe. 

James reaches you in a matter of minutes, draping his jacket over you, barely flinching as the cold welts his bare skin. Frantically, he wipes the tears from your eyes, a pained expression on his face as he sees you cry helplessly. “Come on, dove, it’s not safe out here. Let’s go back home, yeah? I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, dove, please don’t cry, it’s killing me to s–see you like this.” Tears fall from his eyes, and he begins stuttering from the cold, but you can’t go back to the manor. “What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it. I love you—I’m sorry.”

You bat his chest. “G–Go home, Jamie. I’ll just take the train back to the castle.” 

“What?” He shakes his head, grabbing onto your hands. “Y–You can’t. Not in this weather. You’ll get sick if you try to walk back to the station.” 

You withdraw from his hold as you back away from James, slipping into the ice-cold mask you know so well. 

James rises in an instant, reaching for you. “No, no, no, no, no. You don’t get to do that. Not now. Not with me. Please, just come home and I-I’ll fix it.” 

“Goodbye, James,” You tell him firmly, clenching your jaw as you look him straight in the eyes. 

He grimaces. “That won’t work on me, princess, and you know it. Don’t push me away—please.” 

“Go home, James!” You yell bitterly, pivoting on your heel as you march through the thick inches of snow, hearing Remus and Lily’s voice grow louder in the distance. “Just go!”

He grits his teeth, nails digging deep into the palms of his hand. “You’re a coward if you walk away from here—from us—right now!” James shouts through chattering teeth and stray tears. “And I hate cowards more than anything!” 

You don’t look back. 

(Later that night, James stares blankly at the fireplace, tossing twigs now and then. He’s all out of tears. Remus crosses his legs as he sits beside James and offers him a steaming mug of hot chocolate. 

“Don’t want one,” He mutters, words coarse from earlier, head turning away from Remus’s gift. “Just want her.” 

Remus sets the beverage on the ground before pulling James’s head down to his chest, gently wiping the tears from his eyes as he wraps the blanket around both of them. He presses a soft kiss to James’s hair. 

“I said I hated her,” James says weakly. “I don’t—I never will. I just hate that she’s out there spending Christmas all alone. She could be here—with us. I hate not knowing that she’s safe, or that she thinks I don’t love her anymore—that’s a bloody lie, Moony. I adore her. If anything, I don’t deserve her.” 

James finds out that he does have more tears left in him. “I miss her. Bring her back, Rem, please.”

“You’ll cry yourself sick, love.” Remus wipes each tear away. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? Mornings do have a way of bringing miracles to us.” Because after a night of excruciating pain under the moon’s command, he wakes up to sunlight, and there you all are — smiling down at him like he is deserving of love; and maybe Remus can’t fault you for running away.

You’d kiss him gently and tell him how proud you are of him for coming back to you. 

Remus only hopes you come back to them, too.)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“AND THAT, dear Harry, is how I humiliated Lucius Malfoy in fifth-year.” Your eyes gleam wickedly as you rest your arms on the school desk. “If he ever bothers you in your time, just mention my name—oh, I wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes I’m haunting him from my grave. Tell him, okay?” 

Harry nods excitedly. “Definitely.”

“Got anymore stories?” He asks. 

You cackle menacingly. “Boy, do I ever. Let me tell you about the one time Beckett McLaggen took me out on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s!” 

Harry grimaces. “Do I even want to hear about this?” 

“Oh, pish-posh.” You dismiss him with a wave. “You do, this story is hilarious. Now that I look back on it, Sirius was quite cross with him for the rest of the day—how strange. I wonder why.” 

Harry stares at you in disbelief. “You’re joking.” 

“I most certainly am not, Harry Potter.” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1974; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

AN EAR-PIERCING scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You snatch your wand from under your pillow, heart thudding against your chest in fear — last year, the Prewett twins decided it was funny to break into the girls’ quarters at midnight; you get a month worth of detention for hitting Gideon with the Expulso curse and suspension from class for two weeks, while the twins get away with a slap on the wrist and have the time of their lives spreading rumors of you being a Death-Eater. 

Endora shoots up to her feet as well, staring at you in panic — then the girl screams again, and you realize it’s Allegra. 

You sigh in relief, lowering your wand before saying to Endora, “I-It’s alright. I’ll handle it.” 

“Are you sure?” Endora asks timidly, gnawing at her lip and wincing when Allegra wails once more. 

“Certain,” You respond, yawning. 

As Endora climbs back into her bed, you slip into Allegra’s side, holding her head to your chest, brushing your fingers through her hair and untangling the knots. Like most of the Greengrass women, she was of ethereal beauty — silky blonde hair, smooth and fair skin, deep blue eyes that enchant wizards and witches alike. But her cheeks have gone sallow from exhaustion, eyes devoid of any emotion, and her skin now sunken into her bones. 

“I don’t want to marry him—I can’t! He’s old enough to be my father!” Allegra sobs violently, desperate for anyone to hear her, but no one really ever hears their cries from the dungeon. “They said they’d wait until I graduated—they promised! I’m supposed to marry him this summer!” 

Your heart breaks for your friend — there’s nothing you can do but hold her until she’s cried every bit of her soul out. 

“I hate them,” Allegra whispers to you; she had been shedding tears for hours, trembling in your arms until morning finally came. 

“I know,” You say defeatedly. 

“I wish I was dead,” She replies lifelessly. “He can’t marry a dead bride.” 

“Don’t say that,” You beg as you hug her tight; afraid to lose her to the world that has worn her down. “Please.” 

Allegra sinks into her pillows, and you follow in suit, hesitantly laying your head beside hers. She stares at the ceiling dully. “The world is so, so cruel to us daughters sometimes. And it’ll be cruel to our daughters, and their daughters. When will it end?” 

“I don’t know,” You say honestly. 

Allegra hums, neither disappointed nor surprised, and turns away to lay on her side. “Pansy,” She mumbles.

“What?”

“If we lived in a better world and I married for love, I’d want to name my daughter Pansy — like the flower.”

(Later that day, you are given detention for beating Evan Rosier to a pulp. He makes a joke about dirty blood, and you snap — you are tired of laughing and pandering to the arrogant men in your life. This is the first time you publicly defy your parents, and it felt good — more than good, it was liberating. It’s like breathing fresh air for the first time. Then, you earn a second detention for storming up to the Gryffindor common room and punching Fabian Prewett in the face — because fourth-year boys had no business sneaking into the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night for some stupid prank — and you threaten him by pointing the tip of your wand deep into his neck, demanding they apologize to you, Allegra, and Endora. 

You get what you want, naturally — as princesses do. You decide then that you’re going to create a world where girls like Allegra don’t cry anymore.)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 

HARRY TWINGES WHEN he hears the end of your fourth or fifth story of the afternoon — no wonder you had been so angered by his being in your room. “I-I’m sorry—” 

“Yesterday was hardly your fault,” You interrupt him. “There’s no controlling where magic brings you, not in your case. You didn’t know, but now you know. I don’t hold it against them — anymore. Fifteen-year-old boys can be stupid, and at least they’ve learned from their mistakes. You should have seen your mother — erm, Lily — she looked like she was ready to kill them after finding out what they had done. Even Molly was cross with the twins, and you know how loyal Molly is to her family.”

Oh, Harry knows.

And Hermione knows it all too well. 

“Others call us evil, conniving and cruel, Harry,” You tell him grimly, “But I will protect my own, no matter what I have to do.”

At that moment, Harry thinks he understands why some people come to fear Slytherin. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.) 

“LOOK, LILY-PAD, the princess is drooling again.” 

You open your eyes to glare at Sirius. “I don’t drool, idiot.” 

Lily chortles as she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t, princess.”

Currently, you’re lying on a shabby loveseat that is too small to hold the three of you; it’s the only furniture in the new cottage you call home, where Potter Manor was right across the street. (Euphemia was ecstatic to have you all nearby — the lovely woman was sprite for her age, but you notice the way she stops to sit and catch her breath, Sirius and James hovering over her attentively; you’re good at pretending, so you pretend that the Potters will be around forever.) Some rooms are dusty with cobwebs, walls unfinished, with the floors creak under your feet, and there’s no other place you’d rather call home. 

You’re in between Sirius and Lily; your lips swollen from their kisses, cheeks flushed and the column of your throat graced with love marks. It’s the most beautiful set of jewelry you’ve ever worn, not even burmese rubies could compare. Lily’s hand rests under your jumper, Sirius’s thigh wedged between your own. While peace blankets the three of you, James and Remus have yet to come home from their task given by the Order. 

“You need a haircut, my love,” You mumble drowsily, pulling at one of the dark ringlets — it’s gone past his shoulders now. He captures your hand and leaves a delicate kiss on your fingertips. 

Lily buries her nose in your hair. “She’s right, Siri.” 

“I’m always right.” You pout. 

Sirius, love-sick fool that he is, smiles as he tilts your chin with his finger and ensnares you in a kiss that leaves you breathless. “Course you are — our girl’s bloody brilliant, isn’t she, Lily-pad?”

“Without a doubt.”

You roll your eyes at their antics, rolling around so that your back is pressed to Sirius’s chest — they’re not fooled, however; Lily sees the way your eyes flicker in amusement and the way your lips threaten to curve up into a smile. She traces the swell of your lips with her thumb, to the dip of your nose, and to the apples of your cheek. Sea-green eyes beam at you.

“I love you,” says Lily, committing every inch of you to her memory as she wears a melancholic smile. “I don’t know who told you that you don’t deserve to be loved, but they were wrong. You are so precious to us, dove, you don’t even know how much. This right here is real — and nothing could ever change that.” 

As it turns out, you did have more smiles to give — only the happy ones; not the fake, courteous smiles that you had given to your mother’s friends in the past. You come to intertwine your hand with Lily’s, the one that had been resting on your cheek, tenderly wiping the tears that pooled within your eyes. Your heart could burst from your chest. They had a habit of wringing every emotion out of you; of making love feel real, not just a myth from a Muggle storybook. And you find, that you didn’t mind this particular habit of theirs. In the comforts of the place you call home, where you irrefutably belong, you are free to seek their arms and fall into their love, and the best part is where you get to love them right back. 

How lucky you are. 

“Let’s get married,” You blurt out, holding your breath, feeling Sirius’s hand on your waist stiffen. 

“What?” Lily gasps breathlessly. 

You smile up at Lily. “Let’s get married. All of us. I don’t care where, o–or about the rings, let’s just get married. With the war going on, we deserve s–something good.” 

Lily sobs as she nods excitedly. “Yes. Oh my Gods—we’re getting married!” 

Sirius stares at you in wonder. “Bloody hell, dove, give a guy some warning, would you?”

You grin. “Is that a yes?” 

“It’s a yes — forever.” Sirius dives in to kiss you senseless. “Couldn’t get rid of us now even if you tried.” 

“I don’t think I’d want to, anyway.” 

Right then, the rickety door slams open, and you hear the loves of your life calling out for the three of you. Followed by the heavy thud of Dragonhide boots plunking down onto the floor

“We’re home!” James announces in the entryway. 

Lily wastes no time in shooting up from the sofa and welcoming them home with quite a unique greeting:

“We’re all getting married!” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 

“That ring is an heirloom passed down to the children in our family,” You tell Harry, pointing to the band around his finger. “It’s meant to symbolize our loyalty and duty to our House. My mother said I would have earned it only when I became a wife to Ferguson Bulstrode.” You chuckle at Harry’s perturbed grimace. “No, I didn’t marry him — thankfully. After Allegra. . . I—I. . . I couldn’t bear it. If I was going to marry, it would be on my own terms, and it would be for love, nothing less. Then, if my child wanted it, I’d give them this ring. I want to leave behind a legacy that I created. When I was younger, I’d resigned to a fate that was forcefully carved by someone else’s hand.” 

You shake your head. “I want to die being remembered by those who loved me. Otherwise, I was never truly alive.” 

Harry won’t let that happen, he won’t ever let your name be forgotten. He’ll share of your kindness to his friends, of your bravery and loyalty. Hermione will love your fondness of Muggle musicals and how you stood up to Lily’s defense in a world that ostracized her for being different. He’ll remind Remus of your love for him, that he had brought you hope in times of despair. Harry is going to make sure the world knows you had been so full of life with endless love to give. You are going to be remembered in the way Voldemort never will. 

“What do the words mean?” He stares at the writing: Tempus Edax Rerum.

You smile. “Time, devourer of all things.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

“REMUS—THE MUGGLES ARE stuck in the telly again!” 

Remus snickers as he takes the vacant space beside you on the loveseat, now sewn up with care and spattered with knitted quilts and throw pillows — still too small to carry three people but hasn’t given out yet, anyway. He takes Lily’s legs over his lap, swiftly stealing a kiss from your lips. “It’s a film, dove, they’re acting.” 

You purse your lips. “They’re trapped inside, then?” 

Lily snorts into her tub of chocolate fudge ice cream. “Not quite, princess, it’s recorded. Movies are like moving photographs — but they’re an hour long with sounds.” 

“Oh.” You turn your attention back to the screen, back to the film Lily had been watching. You had to admit — the story of Sandy and Danny was an interesting one. “Lily-pad, she’s singing — again.” 

Sirius hushes you from where he was cuddling James on the other couch. “She’s supposed to sing, dove, it’s a musical.” 

“Well, yes,” You begin, and James groans into Sirius’s chest, “But they should just talk instead of singing all the time — Sandy’s got a lovely voice, though. I just don’t understand why Danny’s treating her like that! Truthfully, I don’t like any of Sandy’s new friends, other than Frenchy — she’s harmless. If I was Sandy I’d move on from Danny — but then again, that hair and those muscles, and his leather jacket! I can’t blame her.” 

Sirius glowers at you. “You like his leather jacket?” 

“His hair?” James exclaims in horror. 

Remus chuckles as he tucks you in his side, kissing your temple. “If I were you, dove, I’d be quiet and just watch the film.”

“Oh, no, no.” Sirius barely glances at the television as he pauses the film and stands up to point an accusatory finger at you. “Since when were you into leather jackets? Do you think those are cool? Since when? Jamie, should I get one? Let’s unpack this, right now. And his muscles, really?” 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Play the film, Black, I want to see the end of their love story.” 

“I’m telling Euphemia on you!” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 

“—and then we realized that we accidentally locked Hermione in with the troll.” Harry’s arms flail about as he shares some of his adventures with you — it had only been fair. He felt like a young boy again, entering Hogwarts for the first time as he watched you listen to him intently, gasping at tale of the vanishing glass and scolding him when he says he and Ron had decided to go searching for Hermione, and by extension, the troll. 

Your eyes grow wide. “A troll? In Hogwarts? They can’t have, not unless—”

“Someone let it in���I know!” Harry grins. “You’re not going to believe who let the troll in the castle.” 

You snap your fingers, “Malfoy, the older one. I know that lump’s got something to do with this. Can’t have been Snape or Quirrell.”

“Just you wait.” Harry’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “—and so, Professor McGonagall finds us, and can you believe it? She awards us for dumb luck! Then. . .” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1979; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

IT HAD COME AS A surprise when you volunteered to join the Order of the Phoenix. You wanted to scoff at their shocked faces — was it so surprising that you wanted to protect your family? They let Severus Snape join their ranks, and you’re fairly certain that you’re a better fighter and survivalist than him — not the better liar, however, he can have that one. The week before, you and the others had an argument that lasted for the whole day. They did not want you in harm’s way, and you would rather die than stay at home, waiting idly for them to return, when you could be out there alongside them. 

(“It’s not some game out there!” Remus runs through his hair in frustration — he had always been so careful to never raise his voice at you, but this one time, he needed you to back down. “Every time you step into a raid, there’s a possibility of you dying, don’t you understand that? And even if you survive — you’ll have blood on your hands, and it does not wash away no matter how many times you try, trust me, we know.” 

“So what?” You throw your hands up in the air, equally aggravated. “I just stay here like some. . . some pet waiting for their owners to come home?” 

“Yes!” Lily angrily replies. “That is the whole point of us joining the Order — so you get to live another day. So we all have a chance at this new world without a war. Let us protect you!”

You grind down on your jaw. “You have got another thing coming, if you think I’m not going to fight tooth and nail for my future.” 

James slams a fist onto the kitchen counter. “There are horrors out there you can’t even imagine. I-It’s worse than we thought. It’s our every nightmare come to life.” 

You raise your chin defiantly. “Then we face it together.”)

Each day, you survive, and each day the five of you return home — scarred and bruised, but safe within the arms of one another. When you collapse and crumble, it is only for the walls of your home to witness. 

Now a month into autumn, you are on your first task without Sirius, James, Lily or even Remus. Instead, you are assigned by Dumbledore to Knockturn Alley along with Peter Pettigrew and Gideon Prewett. How strange time was, years ago you’d never associate with the proud Gryffindors, and now you had to trust them to guard your back. Everyone had to grow up quickly during war, even pranksters. 

The alley was quiet — too quiet for your liking. You had been on alert since the moment you apparated into the area, wand at your ready. The back of your neck prickled with goosebumps as you kept an ear out for any sign of movement. 

Peter shivers and you glance at him — he’s become far too skinny, constantly shrinking into himself out of fear. And while you want to comfort him, you keep your eyes up ahead. Still, there's a nagging feeling that you can’t quite make out. It’s different from all the other times you’ve been asked to search and rescue. 

“Don’t you feel like there’s something wrong?” You ask Gideon, eyes snapping to the flock of crows flying overhead. 

“Dunno, kid,” Gideon says, nudging your shoulder with pressed lips. “Everything about this is freaking me out. The place is too empty.” 

“I get what you mean,” You reply, swallowing your own nervousness. Without waiting for the rest, you speed up your pace. “I’ll scout ahead, who knows what’s been here before us. I don’t want to risk any of our lives, so let’s be careful. Gideon, ward the area while I check for any cursed objects, last time you almost got your arm cut off by a newspaper of all things. And Peter, could you. . . Peter?” 

When you turn to check behind you, it all happens so fast. 

“Avada Kedavra!” 

You scream as Gideon’s deathly pale body falls to the floor. 

“No!” 

You aren’t given a moment to rush to his side — someone digs their wand in the side of your neck, and you stiffen in their hold. It’s not until they hiss in your ear that you recognize the voice. 

“Rosier.” You spit, biting down on your lip when he presses the tip of his wand further into your flesh. 

“Stupid witch,” He taunts, eyes dilating with vengeance. “Where are your lovers now?” 

“Jealous?” You claw at his arms, chest heaving up and down. “We don’t have room for one more, sorry.”

“Shut up!” He pushes you to the ground in blind rage, and that’s all the opening you need. 

“Expulso!” 

Each curse you send his way lands on his cloaked body, sending him staggering backwards. With ease, you deflect each spell he counters with. You’re winning, he is growing tired, and perhaps that is why you let your guard down. 

“Accio wand!” 

The magic fizzles out, and the spell dies on your lips. As you swivel your head to find out who’s stolen your wand, you expect to find another Death Eater — except it’s Peter. Just Peter Pettigrew, quivering in his boots with tears and snot dripping down his face, your wand in his free hand. You furrow your brows — it doesn’t make sense. 

“Peter?” You call out. 

“Crucio!” 

The curse finds its home in your body — and it sinks deep into your flesh, grinding your bones until you slump to the ground, wriggling as you draw blood from your lips, refusing to let them hear an ounce of your pain. Blood trickles down your nose as you hear Evan Rosier dancing around you in glee. You know this curse well; the sound of your father condemning you gleefully echo in your head. You crawl over to Gideon — hand desperately reaching for his shirt. 

“Crucio!” Rosier grabs you by the hair and howls with laughter. “Scream for me again—Crucio!” 

It’s as though someone had begun to rip you in half. Your bones shift and crack with every uttered curse. The veins in your eyes have popped and through bloody vision, you see Peter cowering away from you.

“You—fucking—traitor,” You gurgle, throat welling up with blood that’s risen from your stomach. “They’ll—never—forgive you—never.” 

“Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Come on, witch — SCREAM! Look at her go, Pettigrew, crawling like some pathetic worm.” 

You lay in your owl pool of blood, wearing a body that is marred and lacerated. But you see something in Gideon’s hand. I’m sorry, you want to tell him. I’ll get you home to Molly, you promise, please lend me your magic this once. With every last bit of your strength, just as Rosier directs another curse at you — one you know you won’t survive — you snatch the wand from Gideon’s hand and tear the last of your magic from your throat. 

“Defodio!” 

You wait with a bated breath as silence fills the alley; lucky to have remembered Professor Flitwick’s quick remark as to how the slight difference in pronouncing a charm could alter its effect. Rosier stands on shaky legs, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. You watch as he looks down to his chest, where a gaping hole now lies instead of where his ribcage and heart should be. As Gideon had done before him, Evan Rosier crashes to the ground. 

That just leaves one more problem. 

Peter scurries to your side the moment Rosier can hurt him no longer. “I-I’m sorry—I’m sorry. I had to. . . T–They killed my mum, they killed M–Mary, and t–they said I would die too if I d–didn’t do this. I’m sorry. Y–Your father was there, too. He said he would take you in, let you l–live if you joined us. W–We can live, t–there’s still a chance for us to survive.” 

Your fingers are bent at unsightly angles, the remnants of the Torture Curse still flowing through your veins, but your face contorts in anger as you let your hand curl around his neck. He sobs louder, and though your grip is weakening — you make sure he looks into your eyes, that he feels your touch.

“I’d rather—die.” You say through gritted teeth, nails drawing blood from his grimy skin. “You’ll die too—you’ll feel my blood on your skin—everywhere you go, Peter.” 

Peter shakes his head, now clumsily pushing his wand down to the center of your chest. “Y–You were the only o–one who d–didn’t laugh at me. N–Not like the others.” 

“When they find out—you’re dead, Pettigrew.” You laugh darkly as more blood exits your body through your lips. “There’s nowhere you can hide—you’re a dead man.” 

“P-Please die,” Peter cries out, each killing spell coming out as a garbled whisper. “Please die,  s–so I can live. I c–can’t fight anymore, I’m tired.” 

Your vision goes a hazy shade of white, Peter’s silhouette fading away to the familiar scenery of your cottage in Godric’s Hollow. 

Oh.

Dying is less painful than you had expected it to be. It’s like coming home after a day’s work. 

You just wanted to rest now. 

The world caves in on you, and you barely hear Peter’s next words. 

“Avada Kedavra.” 

(It’s past midnight when Peter Pettigrew arrives at Grimmauld Place, where it’s been altered to host the members of the Order, Lily sobs in relief and gathers him in her arms. 

You’ll feel my blood on your skin.

You’re a dead man. 

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. 

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home safe — welcome home — thank the Gods you’re alive,” Lily blabbers through her tears, checking his face for any major injuries. “Merlin, what happened? There’s too much blood on you. It’s on your shirt and your face.” 

“It’s not mine,” says Peter hoarsely. 

Sirius’s gaze darkens, arms crossed over his jacket as he leaned against the wall. “Where is she?” 

Lily nods, standing on her tiptoes to search for any sign of you. “Peter? I–Is she alright? Has something happened to her?” 

Peter stays silent for a moment too long, and he finds himself slammed against the wall behind him, Sirius snarling in his face as he seizes the front of Peter’s soiled shirt. “Where the fuck is she, Pettigrew?” 

Peter begins to weep. “I–It was an ambush. None of us saw it coming. Gideon r–ran. She was taking on two Death-Eaters at once and I–I was too far away.” 

Lily collapses to the ground with a heart-wrenching scream.

Sirius growls as he drives his fist to the wall, inches away from Peter’s face. “Where is her body?” 

“It was a disintegration spell.” With Severus Snape — brought to the Malfoy Manor to be made as an example of what happens to blood-traitors. 

James pushes Sirius out of the way and grabs a hold of Peter, knocking his head against the concrete. “It should have been you—” James snaps at Peter. “If it came down to you or her—you should have saved her!” 

“W-What?” Peter stammers, eyes wide. “She chose to save m–me.” 

James sneers at him. “You should have just died.”)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1996; CURRENTLY, IN THE PRESENT.) 

ST. JEROME’S GRAVEYARD had exactly one visitor. Remus Lupin sits in between James and Lily’s graves, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand — four empty at his side. He must be going crazy. There’s no funeral for Sirius as there’s no body to actually bury, Harry is presumed missing after an attack in Diagon Alley, and your name stares back at him mockingly. He tries not to dwell on your passing — there have been too many holes, too many details left unsaid; and he knows just the rat who has all the answers. Unfortunately, Wormtail won’t come out of whatever hole he’s crawled into. Either him, or Severus. 

He sighs, rubbing the temples of his head to ease the growing pains. 

You are the first to be buried of the five. Like Sirius, there had been no recovered body to lay to rest, but they asked for a compromise instead. Your name is engraved under Euphemia’s in her tombstone, and Remus figures it’s the fitting place to leave you be — with your mother, welcoming you home with open arms. He hopes you’re at peace, wherever you are. (Because, honestly, at this point, he might just fucking follow you.) 

Remus takes another swig of his alcohol, laughing bitterly to himself. He glances at James’s headstone and raises his bottle to him. “Not even in death, huh?”

He downs the last of the drink, rising to his tremulous legs. Remus gathers the flower bouquets he had bought earlier this morning; lilies-of-the-valley for Lily, white carnations for Euphemia, forget-me-nots for you, and for James — Remus leaves a moving photograph of him and Sirius; it’s a snapshot taken by Lily during the wedding as James dips his head low to kiss Sirius. Remus thinks it’s a wonderful memory to remember them by. 

“Take care of them for me, Jamie.”

And that is all the goodbyes Remus has the strength for. 

end note. i think i was crying the whole time i was writing this part, LMAO. i should be able to wrap things up in the next one. important!! there is actually a scene i was hesitant to include, but i ended up writing anyway. it's the whole part where allegra greengrass breaks down, and it was difficult for me to decide because i knew the implications; that i had a strong underlying message in that part, and i don't want it to be misconstrued or anything. pls pls tell me if it comes off as offensive, i definitely don't want to hurt anyone. nevertheless, thank you again so so so much for reading!! if you spot a plot hole, no you didnt!! i hope the time-jumps weren't too confusing! again, thank you so so much for reading!!

[yooglefics]

The casual type: 05 . The art of paying attention

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader Wordcount: 3,354 words Genre ( for the whole series ): AU. College!verse. Strangers to friends with benefits to ???. Eventual smut. Hurt / comfort at times. Fluff for cute friends. Summary:  ( Series ) • Hobi and his girlfriend set you up with a friend of hers to help with whatever happened months back. However, no one really expected things to end the way they did. ( Ep. 05 ) • Sometime the little details mean more than people think. More info under read more.

Includes ( this chapter ): The squad<3. Subin my love. And other new characters. A kind of out of nowhere jump in time ( just a few weeks ) because the writing just flowed like that, I don't know what to tell you. A mini-drama ( this is the spoiler I posted on ko-fi the other week ) and a bigger drama.  Author's note: so… I'm sorry this took so long to be updated Y_Y As you may know, inspiration hasn't been too good these days, but after some lovely comments and knowing people are interested in this story, I finally finished this chapter, so thank you! Also, let me know if you figured out what the drama was before the end, or if you had a theory about it, etc. Hopefully you like this one, and remember to leave a comment, reblog, send an ask, follow or what not, to help my motivation. Thank you for reading <3

“Kang Subin, queer and honorable member of the divorced parents club.” Is how your roommate introduces herself friday night, pointing to the latter as the reason she is only now, a month after classes started, arriving to campus and the city in general. 

She says her dad insisted on doing a year abroad as he did, assisting to his Alma Mater and hopefully fall in love with the city to move full time with him. And she did love it… a little too much. She admits the change of scenery was liberating, she could be a totally different Subin from the one in Seoul, and sadly that meant neglecting her notes and putting at risk her art history degree.

You're glad to note she will be joining you ( and some of your friends on occasion ) for classes, since she managed to keep her notes high enough to not lose her first semester. And then you spend the weekend getting to know each other, practically becoming friends overnight. Subin says it must be a you thing, and shaking your head no, you confess essentially begging the administration for a roommate because you're stuck with silly boys and all girls hate you because you aren't cool like them. She laughs, asks if that means the plan is making everyone hate her too and be stuck with you. And you freak out a little, but her laugh keeps flowing across the dormroom and you know she is joking; you know that things would be fine.

Monday arrives and between classes, you continue to give Subin small tours of the campus, mostly the art building and where all the vending machines are. 

“There's more than I thought, could you make me a map?” She jokingly asks.

“I'll ask Jungkook for the one we made last semester,” you know he has it because it was offered to Yoongi before.

“Hey, y/n!” calls Taehyung, appearing at the other end of the hall with Yoongi, and when he asks “you got some gum?”, you know they were just on a smoke break.

“Oh, hi, Tae. Nice to see you.” Sarcastic tone all over it, “are you having a nice morning?”

He rolls his eyes and Yoongi laughs at his side.

“Sorry, I'm actually not. And I'm running late,” still you give him a look and as a little kid he repends. “Hi, you guys look pretty today, as alway.” He adds before you can argue anything, and only then Subin chuckles, understanding this must be part of your dynamic. “Do you happen to have some gum for us, your lovely friends?”

“Yes, actually.” Taking one strap off, you move your backpack to your front, looking for the little package they keep stealing from. “Here,” you hand one wrapper to Tae, who starts running in the other direction immediately, screaming how much he loves you. And a “nice to meet you!” to Subin.

Everyone laughs, Yoongi turning back in your direction after Taehyung disappears down the hallway.

“You want one?” You ask and before being able to stop yourself, you add, “Is cherry, though” 

“Of course it is,” he smiles and you look away, pretending it's only to search for another one to offer Subin. Memories of friday’s night invading your psyche and shyness your whole body. 

Well, that's your own fault.

“Thank you,” she says, looking at the two of you while unwrapping it. “I'm Subin, by the way, the new roommate.” 

“Oh, she actually found one!”

“Just hoping she doesn't abandon me too,” you pout and Subin wraps one arm around yours.

“Never.”

“Yoongi,” He introduces, thumb pointing to himself and then behind, “And that was Taehyung, but I guess you'd meet the whole squad later.”

“Ah, yeah. I've been told she collects cute guys.”

“Did someone actually say that?” Yoongi asks when you're not even surprised.

“Yeah and when I asked about girls she looked relieved,” subin goes on, “I actually wanted to know, you know.”

Yoongi and you laugh, “someone doesn't like competition,” both say in unison.

“I told you, they lied.”

“Well, I can't really say that yet. I've to look first,” Subin insists, walking through the cafeteria's door. And it doesn't bother you because it comes from a place of curiosity and not horniness. No shame to anyone, your friends are hot, but you've known them for so long and know they have other great attributes that sometimes it feels superficial and it bothers you.

Besides, as a friend, you need to keep their egos just high enough to be healthy for everyone involved.

“Listen, kids,” calling for the table's attention, you stand in front of them, “this is Subin, my—”

“New roommate?” Asks Jungkook, remembering the text you sent, and you nod excitedly.

“That's Jungkook, he is in music and sports.”

“Which ones?”

“All. Some. We don't have time for that,” you joke, but only continue with the rest of his introduction after the youngest clarifies is soccer and box this year. “Oh, he also takes an art class with Taehyung and I, and now you, this semester. You know Tae from earlier, the one who keeps stealing my gum.”

“You're the one that tells me to not show up to class with cigarette breath!” He pushes back against accusations.

“I think she wants you to buy your own,” Jimin suggests.

“Or quit,” adds Hobi and the table laughs even more.

“That’s Hobi, the group's mom.” Tae offers after.

“Does that make Mai the dad?” Jungkook asks, with a serious expression on his face.

“I'm telling her so,” Yoongi says, already phone in hand and texting his best friend.

“You'll have to meet Mai later, she is great,” you continue, “but Tae is in arts. And Hobi and Jimin, are both dancers,” index finger pointing at their direction as you say each name, “and well, you already know that's Yoongi, he is in music too.”

“And the last new guy, right?” Subin remembers from your talk earlier after she met him for the first time, “I guess I took your title.”

“Are we enemies now?” He jokes, “I was about to offer you my chair, but now I don't know.”

Again, laughs all around and before anyone can think about the sitting arrangement too seriously, Jungkook is standing up, saying he needs to go back to the house before his next class.

“Oh, you are the biker from friday!” Subin exclaims as Jungkook’s helmet comes into view, everyone turning to look at her, “can't believe I forgot to ask you.”

And then five pairs of eyes are on you, all but Yoongi's, since he doesn't need an explanation. 

“...What?” Asks Tae, finally.

“Had to call her to my rescue because I lost my key and from the hallway's window I saw someone drop her off on a motorcycle,” she explains, “that's when the girl told me about you collecting cute guys.”

“But that wasn't me,” says Jungkook.

“Yeah, you weren't with us that night. We were all at the house, so who was it?” Ask Jimin, and the curiosity in his voice makes you nervous. You have never lied to them, and starting right now without preparation is terrifying.

However nothing compares to the feeling on your stomach when Yoongi answers, “it was me, actually.” And without a beat, your friends are looking at him now, “What?”

“You what now?” Mister interrogation Tae goes on, “Why were you together? What time was it? Was it late?”

“You were alone? Why?” Asks Hobi.

“We can't hang out now?” You ask back, wasn't he who set you up in the first place? And yes, it didn't turn out the way they planned it, but wasn't the whole premise to get to know Yoongi?

“Not what I meant,” he corrects, “Just… you didn't say anything.”

“Well, you guys canceled, what were we supposed to do? Not do anything just because you weren't with us?” Yoongi answers before you. 

“And we just hang out, you know, eat junk food and chat. Nothing to write home about.”

“Aww,” coos Jungkook, sliding his arm over your shoulders, “does that mean you missed us? You really love us, uh?” you pull back, sticking your tongue at him and pushing him towards the exit, telling him to hurry because if he is late to class you aren't covering for him again.

Thankfully, that's enough to get them off your back and Subin’s arrival provides better entertainment through the lunch hour, as your friends don't hold back on their questions to get to know her. And you're glad they seem to like her as much as you do.

“So… should I've not mentioned the bike thing?” worries Subin later, when everyone has left and is only her and Yoongi at the table.

“Don't worry about it.” He reassures her, offering a tangerine slice when she doesn't return the smile. “Seriously.” 

Is not her fault, he thinks. He can't blame the guys either for wondering and going into big brother mode as soon as they hear you're hanging out with someone, since the prevalence of that is not the best right now. And although he does feels bad about keeping things a secret from them, mostly Hoseok, who Yoongi himself give the “you better be careful with what you do with my best friend” talk, it consoles him a bit to know that the both of you are on the same page with what you have. 

Maybe if they knew it wouldn't be a big deal, he thinks. Better him than anyone else, right?

Putting away your phone and with the excuse of going to the bathroom before class, Subin and Tae follow their journey to the second floor without you and without suspecting anything. As you walk in front of one of the classrooms, a hand wraps around your forearm and pulls you in.

“What th—!” scream is interrupted when you recognize Yoongi. “You almost gave me a heart attack! I could've punched you.” And with adrenaline still running through your body, you actually push his shoulder with less force than you first intended.

“Ouch.” He rubs the place you hit, dramatically, as he explains, “Sorry, I panicked. There were people around and I didn't want to scream your name”

“Yeah, we should be careful after what happened at the cafeteria. Good save, by the way.”

“You own me,” he quickly returns.

“I do not,” you deny, crossing your arms, “You were the one insisting on going into the parking lot, I told you to leave me at the gate.”

“Well, forgive me for being a gentleman.”

You laugh, “and modest.”

Yoongi smiles, relaxing his body against the wall beside the door, “are you telling Subin about us?” he asks before you can question him about why he asked to meet.

Uncrossing your arms, you fiddle with your nails instead, scratching the acrylic paint off of them. “What is your opinion on that?”

“You can't answer a question with a question, miss.”

“Well… I don't know.” Is your final answer after a few seconds of silence. “She is cool and I really think we’re going to be friends and maybe I can gossip to her about you.”

He chuckles at that.

“And also she said sorry and asked if it was supposed to be a secret.”

“Really?” Yoongi sounds surprised, “She asked me that too earlier and I told her to not worry.”

“I feel bad about it because it seems like she is actually worried she messed up,” you share, “maybe I should just come clean. Only to her, at least. But of course not, if you don't want to.”

“No, it's okay. I think is good you have someone to talk to. And she seems nice.”

You nod in agreement, relieved you don't have to start hiding things from Subin as soon as you two met.

“Also,” Yoongi goes on, holding your hips and bringing you closer to him. You allow him to without much thinking. “It was nothing to write home about?”

“What?” 

“Friday night, you said that earlier.” 

“Did your ego get hurt?” You tease.

“No. But I didn't know you were a liar.” he throws back and you laugh. “I'm going to call you Pinocchio now.”

At that, you gasp, “stop giving me nicknames!”

And your attempt to pull away is just that, an attempt, because between laughs he holds you closer. “But is funny. And all of them are true.”

“They aren't.”

“Are so.”

“I don't like you.”

“That's not what I got from friday.”

“Yoongiii—.” you gasp again, his laugh louder this time.

Wanting a clarification stops him from dumping his phone back into the duffle bag and so, throwing the strap over his shoulder, he makes his way over to Chris and other teammates. 

“Are you ready to go?” His roommate asks, and Yoongi nods, “good, I'm just waiting for Ha-ri.” 

“Hey!” As they turn around, it is not difficult to recognize her as one of the cheerleaders since she is carrying her pom-poms and all, but is only as they continue talking that Yoongi realizes who she is, “sorry, I was saying goodbye to the girls and planning for next practice.” 

“Don't worry, babe.” 

“You must be Yoongi, hi,” she waves her free hand enthusiastically enough the pendant on her bracelet makes a jiggly sound, catching his attention “welcome to the university. And the team. Go, Bears!”

She seems nice, Yoongi thinks, “Go, bears!” first in the air, he chuckles in response before they all make their way to the parking lot and to Chris’s car.

The drive home is short and filled with questions about his last school and the reason he transferred, which Yoongi manages to give simple and vague answers that satisfy Ha-ri’s curiosity. It definitely helps that he has been questioned about it more than once the last few weeks, giving him more than one chance to practice before today.

The more weeks pass, the less people ask. And soon the mystery of his arrival is pushed to the side as people decide to talk about his accomplishments in the basketball games.

Every now and then someone recognizes him as an ex Tiger's player, and asks why he changed teams, but before anything can get to deep, a “well, now you are on the right team,” or something alike is thrown his way and he couldn't be more glad for the rivalry between the universities.

For what is worth, the change has proven to have been a good decision. Of course he is nostalgic for the past and he misses hanging out with Mai more often, but he has friends, basketball and music. He has even been planning to perform at school events with Jungkook as he did with Jay back then. 

It feels like he is starting to build a new life, and it wasn't as difficult as his brain told him it could be.

With chuseok around the corner the university starts to plan the events for the weekend and some professors feel generous enough to give extra credits for participation. Others just used it as an excuse to make the assignments related to it, that's his and Jungkook’s case.

Yours is the first one, because getting a good grade for hanging out with your friends sounds too good to pass out. That's why for the last few days you have been following them around taking pictures and notes, preparing your article about their performance Saturday night. 

“Are you done?” Yoongi asks from his spot at the end of the bed when you take the headphones off, the ones he made you wear so he wouldn't have to listen to himself on the interview recording.

“Yep. I only need Kook's side and I'm done,” end of the sentence elongates a bit, arms in the air as you stretch your back.

“How long for him to be here? I need him to go over something before he eats and gets a food coma.”

“I'm glad you're already prepared for that,” you giggle, “Because he is not even seeing my texts.”

“He is still busy?”

“Yeah, kissing someone for sure. Does he think I don't have things to do too?” 

“Like making out with someone too?” he jokes, putting his guitar down on the bed, deciding to take a break too.

“Why? Are you jealous?” you tease, trying not to laugh and is surprising when you're met with a serious expression as you spin around on his desk chair.

 “I thought the rule was to tell if there were other people.”

“I'm just kidding,”

“Wow, a comedian.” he rolls his eyes, and you know he is only pretending to be annoyed.

So, you push. “I'm funnier than you, don't get mad.”

“Cocky.” 

“What, you don't find confidence attractive?”

“Oh, I find a lot of things about you attractive.” 

Touche; you think as a smirk appears proudly on his face and makes you turn around, shy reaction at the security of this voice.

And he laughs. Of course.

“Shut up, Yoongi.”

“If you want to kiss me, just do it,” he only has to stretch a bit to pull on the chair, making you turn to him again and bringing you close.

And you do kiss him.

Not only to erase his stupid and attractive gummy smile, but also because you've missed it.

With projects and exams, with Yoongi not only being in a different major but also in his third year, hanging out only the two of you hasn't happened as much. 

You don't mind. You understand that is not a priority and there is something relaxing about it being an unspoken agreement, something that you truthly appreciate. 

But you would be lying if you said that you didn't miss Yoongi's lips against yours and the way his hand cups your cheek, still gentle as he tries to lead the kiss. 

Looking for closeness, your hand finds balance on his tight, making you contemplate ditching the comfiness of the desk chair for a sit on his lap.

“Is pizza night, baby!” breaks through the house before you can make another move, making you jump and pull away on instinct. Moving out of Yoongi's reach, even hitting the desk with the back of the chair as you stand up in record time.

“Careful,” he murmurs and you don't understand why he isn't freaking out. Even dears to chuckle.

“Min, come out!” another voice calls out.

“That's not Jungkook,” you say as a matter of fact, your brain still in shock.

“I'm starting to think he stood us up.” He stands up, looking at his phone still without texts from the younger guy, “Wanna meet my roommates? They have pizza, apparently.”

And your empty stomach makes the executive decision to hide your shame, and disappointment, in exchange for some food.

You're introduced to Jin first, who introduces Namjoon while taking the knife out of his hand with a “let hyung do it.”

“I swear he never lets me hold a knife for more than five seconds,” he says and you find it adorable, but Namjoon seems genuinely confused and maybe a bit hurt by it. 

You wonder what more there's to that. But before you can ask anything, a third roommate comes out of the kitchen, “Is for your own good and the wellbeing of everyone involved,” he says, making your whole body tense as the familiar voice rings through your ears.

“That's Chris.” Jin says, and you almost answer that you know, but for a second it is even hard to breathe.

Nevertheless, you don't need to say anything, because your silence is everything Yoongi needed to confirm that an introduction isn't necessary and in fact, you'd probably rather forget about him. 

Because is him.

The guy who hurt you.

A/N: I missed writing this! again thank you to anyone who has show interest one way or another, you're the reason this chapter was actually finished uwu♡. A/N 2: I'm working on the intros for the characters that aren't part of the squad, and sometimes I ask for your help with fc's suggestions or names, so... that's something to know if you're interested. Send a tip on ko-fi and get some rewards!!

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[vettelsvee]

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆PART 6: LITTLE WHITE LIES [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist | a not so secret santa project ‼️ f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask anything or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader (smau)

summary: seb just wants y/n to accept that contract, and he's going to do everything he can to make it happen. also... the sebastian vettel fandom goes wild when her ex girlfriend does her comeback

warnings: curse words, bad language. mentions of cheating. faceclaim: emma stone, hanna prater

taglist: [ @saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]

a/n: surprise, i posted again! and first smau! I've been wanting to do one of this for a long time, so i hope you like it (please tell me)! feedback (please let me now what you thought of this!) and reposts are truly appreciated. and also comment me your thoughts and theories on the story pls!

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

MAY 25TH 2018

JUNE 1ST 2018

ynyln just posted

ynyln moving on from him is impossible when i still see it all in my head in burning red... see you on june 15th x (more news coming soon... in july <3)

user1 omg are we having red mv? this is ALL red coded

user 2 THERE'S NO WAY SHE DID THIS ↳ user3 wait what is this about? ↳ user 2 user3 take a closer look to the pictures 😁 ↳ user4 i'm not getting it... someone explain it?

lewishamilton it's good to see you finally achieving your dreams! ❤️🙏🏿 ↳ ynyln can't wait to see you soon lew! missed you lots x

user6 she's absolutely insane for posting this pictures... i gotta love her ↳ user7 why is it with the pictures she chose to post? aren't they related to what her song says? ↳ user6 take a look at the twitter thread sebsrrari just posted!

user8 EXCUSE ME MISS YLN? WHAT DO YOU MEAN WITH THAT "SEE YOU SOON"? ↳ ynyln maybe redbullracing can give you a hint... ☺️ ↳ redbullracing ynyln, do you really want us to post certain something we have already saved? ↳ ynyln redbullracing you know i do! i don't know what are you waiting for?

user9 wait wasn't she dating sebastian vettel back in the day? it seems like she's recalling her years with him ↳ user10 i'm 110% sure that the quote goes to seb ↳ user11 and the fact that lewis has left a comment... they know i'm sure

user12 if this post has anything to do with seb... the og wag fandom is going to rise from the ashes and go WILD.

redbullracing just posted

redbullracing We are so delighted to announce that from now on we will officially become the main sponsor of our former golden girl, ynyln, who just started her career as a singer. Also... she will be joining us for the 2018 German Grand Prix next July! More details coming soon.

user1 THEY POSTED SEB AND Y/N OH MY GOD ↳ user2 is this some kind of throwback? weren't they dating a while back? 😯

user3 ok but the fact that they posted that picture makes me think maybe seb and y/n never really lost touch... could this be the start of something more than just sponsorship? ↳ user4 exactly thought this! there's definitely something more going on

user5 seb and y/n together again in 2018 does this mean they're dating again or is it just for promo? ↳ user6 probably promo... ↳ user7 or maybe they know something we don't... ↳ user8 really why posting a picture of them together when they broke up a while ago? ↳ user9 user8 WAIT THEY WERE DATING? ↳ user8 user9 yes! twitter is now full of their story, it's quite a romantic one but also bittersweet... it didn't end well according to most of people

user10 of course seb's the reason y/n's getting back in the spotlight ↳ user11 seb and y/n have way too much chemistry for you to say that ↳ user12 exactly! seeing her again after going viral without us knowing, and her being with seb again, is making me think there’s more to this story!

[yuurei20]

Hiiii!!

Okay, so question - Does Crowley give the MC any allowance? We're trying to figure out if MC has any sort of budget/need for one. I'm not sure if the cafeteria is just Lunch only (and if that's free for the students) or if it's all meals free, but then If all the school's food is free I feel like no one would use Azul's lounge nearly as much. I know in EN Chapter 2 Crowley threatens grim and MC with the cost of their living expenses - But I'm not sure if that translates to him handing them money or just a general cost of living there without tuition. If. NRC has a tuition...?

Basically - Does Crowley give MC any money regularly?

Hello hello!! Thank you for this question! :> This topic has kind of been touched upon before in response to a question about the novel prefect's allowance and NRC's tuition, but this is a great opportunity to put it all together.

In the prologue Crowley declares that Grim and the prefect are allowed to live in Ramshackle for free, but they will need to pay for their own food, clothing and incidentals. It seems the prefect has no money on them with which to do so, so Crowley hires them as janitorial staff.

(The scene above is almost identical in the novel, with the addition of, "Your wages, well, you will be compensated fairly according to the nature of your work.")

What the game is vague about is whether or not the prefect and Grim are monetarily compensated for their work, or if they are just working in exchange for meals and clothes.

But they do seem to have money from somewhere, purchasing various souvenirs for themselves and others throughout events, so it might not be impossible?

Trein has a line of, "You must be judicious with the funds the headmage gave you," but we do not technically know if they received money only for Glorious Masquerade or if he is referencing money that they receive from Crowley regularly.

The novels do answer this question, but the novels will sometimes change details from game (i.e. the retconning of Leona's introduction, the addition of multiple new scenes, etc), so while it might be ok to use them as a reference, we cannot emphatically say, "this is how it is in the novels, so the game must be the same."

The second novel begins with Yuuya, Ace and Deuce making repairs to Ramshackle, and Yuuya later compensates Ace and Deuce for their help, in cash, by buying them pastries on Bakery Day in the cafeteria:

"In response, Ace and Deuce smile as they place several white packages on the table. Here and there Yuuya can see thick slices of roast beef and vibrant green lettuce. There are round breads bursting with cream, baguettes topped with melted cheese, and more—it seems they were able to buy quite a considerable amount.

But they still have change leftover, which they pass to Yuuya, so the prices must be student friendly. It makes sense that bakery days are so popular.

Still smiling, Ace and Deuce sit across from Yuuya. 

‘Thanks for the food!’

‘Gonna dig right in!’

‘Of course. Thanks for helping with the repairs to Ramshackle.’” -Twisted Wonderland the Second Novel

So novel-prefect is being paid in cash, and seems to be budgeting accordingly. This is particularly significant because it happens in Book 2, after the prefect and Grim have transitioned from janitors to students. While their roles are different, it seems they are still being paid for repairs they make.

And this might be also happening in the game, although I don't think it is ever acknowledged aloud, with Ramshackle Dorm getting cleaned up between the Prologue and Book 5 (presumably because of the prefect and Grim working to earn their food and clothes etc.)

An argument against this theory might be Grim's line about not being a part of janitorial staff anymore in Book 2, but while novel-Grim is also no longer janitorial staff by Book 2, he is still helping with repairs, so this comment might not be applicable.

As you say, Mostro Lounge (and the school store) would probably not be as successful if they were competing with free cafeteria food, so it is possible that the other students at the school are also following the system that the prefect uses (free lodging only).

This would explain why Ruggie does things like wear Leona's clothes and eat wild plants: it is possible that he showed up without any money at all and is making things work day to day, exactly like the prefect.

Also as you point out, Crowley will occasionally threaten the prefect and Grim with how they're racking up expenses that he has never agreed to cover.

This might mean that game-prefect is living at least partially on credit, charging expenses to Crowley or the school? (Which is something we know the school store can do, at least, based on Azul charging costs for cleanup of a mess made by Jack to Leona.)

On the subject of tuition, it has also never technically been officially confirmed or disproved that scholarships or tuition are things that exist! I have seen comments that NRC is likely a private school that operates on donations and does not charge tuition, and Crowley does mention receiving donations from parents, but I do not think this has ever been stated outright in the game (or novels) and may just be conjecture at this time.

To answer the initial question: Maybe! :>

We know Novel-MC has money that they are receiving from somewhere, presumably Crowley.

And we know Game-MC is also receiving money from Crowley, but whether the cash they are being given is only for field trips or is something they are earning through repairs to Ramshackle is unconfirmed.

It is possibly one of the many things that the game is intentionally keeping vague!

(Also, I have received your follow-up question and am still hunting for info! :> Hope to answer soon!)

[wallowslistener]

second chances. ೨ৎ s. reid x reader

𐙚˚ spencer reid x fem!reader. fluff. 1.5k words.

✦ when you first joined the bau, you noticed right away that something was off with spencer. the rest of the team was warm and welcoming, offering tips and advice to help you adjust. but spencer? he seemed distant. he was borderline cold, and it wasn’t long before his sarcasm became impossible to ignore.

it started small, just a few curt remarks here and there. anytime you spoke up during a briefing, spencer would find a way to interject, usually with some underhanded comment about your theory or analysis.

one morning, you presented a potential profile for the unsub. as you finished explaining your idea, spencer leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“that’s an interesting theory,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “if you’re trying to rewrite everything we know about behavioral psychology.”

you blinked, taken aback by his tone. the rest of the team exchanged glances, but no one said anything. it wasn’t the first time spencer had been like this with you, but it stung all the same.

you tried to ignore it, focusing on your work and doing your best to prove yourself. but every time you suggested something, spencer found a way to shut it down.

when you suggested a possible location for the unsub’s hideout, he scoffed. “yeah, because that’s exactly where someone with this kind of psychopathy would want to lay low,” he muttered under his breath.

you shot him a look, your patience wearing thin. "do you have a problem with me, reid?"

he glanced up from his stack of papers, clearly surprised that you’d confronted him so directly. “i don’t know. do you have a problem with the concept of research and facts?”

your jaw tightened, but you bit back a retort, not wanting to make a scene in front of the team. you didn’t understand why he had it out for you, but you weren’t about to stoop to his level.

as time went on, the sarcastic remarks became a routine. no matter what you said, spencer had some clever, biting comment ready. you tried to brush it off, reminding yourself that he was brilliant, intimidating, even, and maybe that’s why he was so hard on you. but it didn’t make it any easier.

one evening, after wrapping up a case, the team was gathered in the conference room, reviewing the final details. you offered a suggestion, and predictably, spencer made another cutting remark.

this time, you couldn’t hold back. “you know, i’m getting real tired of this, reid,” you said, your voice low but firm. “every time i open my mouth, you act like i’m the most incompetent person in the room. if you’ve got an issue with me, just say it.”

the room went silent. everyone turned to look at spencer, who was clearly caught off guard. he glanced around the table, then back at you, his expression hardening.

“i don’t have an issue with you,” he said, his voice defensive. “i just don’t think you’re as knowledgeable as you think you are.”

“wow,” you replied, sarcasm creeping into your own voice now. “thanks for clearing that up.”

morgan cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension. “alright, let’s all take a step back.”

but you didn’t back down. “you don’t even know me, spencer. you never gave me a chance. you’ve been judging me since day one, and for what? because i'm new? because i don’t know as much as you?”

spencer shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. “it’s not—"

“no,” you interrupted. “you don’t get to do that. i’m here to learn, just like you were when you first started. you didn’t know everything either, but people helped you. so why are you treating me like i don’t belong here?”

for a moment, spencer just stared at you, as if he didn’t know how to respond. then, without another word, he gathered his things and left the room.

the next day, things were quieter between you two. spencer didn’t make any sarcastic remarks, but he kept his distance. you assumed he was still angry, but at least he wasn’t openly hostile anymore.

a few days later, as you were getting coffee in the break room, spencer walked in. he hesitated for a moment, then awkwardly cleared his throat.

“i, uh, wanted to apologize,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “i shouldn’t have been so... dismissive.”

you blinked, surprised. “wow. i wasn’t expecting that.”

he shifted awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable. “i... don’t always handle new people well,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “it’s not an excuse, but i’ve had a lot of people come and go, and sometimes i guess i just... assume the worst.”

you softened a bit, realizing that his behavior might have been about more than just you. “it’s fine. i get it. but you don’t have to make me feel like i don’t belong here.”

spencer finally looked at you, his expression sincere. “you do belong here,” he said, almost hesitantly. “you’re good at what you do. i'm sorry if i made you feel like you weren’t.”

you nodded, feeling some of the tension between you dissolve. “thanks, reid. i appreciate that.”

he gave a small, almost shy smile before turning back to his coffee. the sarcasm didn’t disappear completely after that, but there was a new understanding between you, one that allowed both of you to coexist, maybe even as friends someday.

the next evening, as you were gathering your things to head out, spencer caught up with you in the hallway, looking hesitant but determined.

"hey," he began, a bit awkwardly, "i, uh, wanted to say thank you. for giving me a chance to… explain myself earlier." he paused, glancing down for a moment. "i was wondering if you'd like to grab dinner? just to, you know… start fresh."

surprised, you looked at him, noting the sincerity in his expression. despite his prickly demeanor lately, there was something earnest in his gaze now. "dinner sounds good," you replied, a small smile creeping onto your face.

later, at a quiet restaurant, spencer seemed different. he wasn’t defensive or sarcastic, instead, he was focused, thoughtful, and even funny in his own way. he opened up about his love for books, sharing stories of obscure facts and odd cases with a passion that was almost contagious. it was as though the walls he’d carefully constructed began to fall away, revealing a side of him you hadn’t seen before.

over dessert, he offered a faint, slightly self conscious smile. "i know i wasn’t exactly… welcoming," he admitted. "but honestly, seeing you here, well, you’re really good at this. maybe even better than i initially gave you credit for."

you chuckled, feeling a warmth blossom between you two that hadn’t been there before. "thanks, reid. maybe you’re not so bad either."

spencer looked down, an almost shy smile breaking through, as if he wasn’t quite used to being complimented. he twirled his fork, clearly thinking something over, before finally glancing up at you.

"i don’t mean to be difficult," he said, carefully choosing his words. "i’ve just… never been good at new things. or new people. it’s like…" he hesitated, searching for a comparison. "it’s like an unfamiliar book that everyone says you should read, but you don’t know if you’re ready to invest in it. and then… sometimes it turns out to be worth it."

you laughed softly at his analogy, feeling that rare warmth from him. "i think i know what you mean."

he nodded, almost relieved, and took a breath as if ready to say something more. but his usual composure seemed to falter slightly, and instead, he looked down at his dessert, his expression thoughtful.

"i think, sometimes, i don’t realize when I’m pushing people away," he admitted quietly. "it’s just easier than… than getting used to someone and then… well, losing them." his voice was softer now, almost a murmur, but there was a weight behind it.

the vulnerability in his eyes surprised you. he was usually so guarded, so quick to put up walls, but now it was as if he was allowing you to see past the endless facts and statistics he normally shielded himself with.

"i guess that makes sense," you replied, meeting his gaze. "but, for what it’s worth, i’m not going anywhere. not unless you push me out the door," you added, offering a reassuring smile.

spencer gave a small, almost sheepish smile back, and you saw a flicker of something. maybe relief, maybe gratitude cross his face. he lifted his glass slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a newfound warmth.

“to second chances?” he said, his voice a touch uncertain but hopeful.

you clinked your glass against his, smiling. “to second chances.”

for the rest of the evening, the conversation flowed easier. spencer shared stories about the team, little quirks you hadn’t noticed yet, and even a few awkward moments from his own early days at the bau that left you both laughing. it was a side of him you hadn’t expected. a mix of wit, warmth, and vulnerability that you found yourself drawn to more and more.

as you both finally stepped outside, the cool night air settling around you, spencer hesitated, as if there was something else he wanted to say. but he just offered a tentative smile. “thanks for tonight. i… enjoyed it,” he said, his voice soft but sincere.

“me too,” you replied. and for the first time, you felt like maybe this connection could be the start of something real.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Stake My Claim {One Shot}*

Title: Stake My Claim {One Shot}*

Lewis Hamilton x GF Reader

Warning: Mild cursing, NSFW, Mild Smut, 18+ Mature Content,

Words: 2.4k

Summary: Nope.

As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate it!

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

****NOT Edited/Proofread****

You and Lewis had been keeping your relationship quiet. You both thought it was important to keep things as private as possible to alleviate any outside noise that comes with celebrity relationships that made them complicated. Your lives were already complicated enough neither of you needed the extra pressure. So for the entirety of your relationship, 11 months, you'd remained mum on your private lives. While it was normal for Lewis to keep quiet about anything other than F1, for you, people noticed.

Whenever you were interviewed and asked about anything private, you remained tight-lipped. You didn't want to reveal even the smallest detail because expert internet investigators could piece things together from nothing and come back with a whole theory with receipts. You being tight-lipped tipped a lot of people off that you had someone in your life. Though they suspected you were dating they still had no idea who.

You were careful not to get pictured with Lewis. Careful not to have any pictures leaked of you being at the same place at the same time. You even went as far as to use your look-alike assistant as your body double sometimes to distract the paps so you could make a discreet getaway. You and Lewis had become impressively creative over the months to keep your relationship quiet.

It was a good call because after almost a year you felt closer to him than you'd ever felt to any of your exes. You felt connected on more levels than just physical. You really enjoyed him as a person outside of being your person. You found him interesting, intelligent, funny, genuine, and incredibly kind. There was no aspect of his personality you didn't like. You were so head over heels for this man that you were beginning to freak out a little bit with how perfect things were.

"What are you thinking about so deep that you're not even giving input for dinner tonight?"

You snapped out of it and looked across from you into Lewis' soft eyes that were completely focused on you.

"Huh? What?"

He snorted then shook his head. "Am I boring you princess?"

"What? No. Not at all. I was just thinking," you said reaching for the menus between you that were the top contenders for tonight's takeaway dinner.

Lewis reached over and rested his hand on top of yours stopping you from taking any of them. "Thinking about what? Talk to me."

This was one of the many things about Lewis. He had the ability to recognize when soemthing was off with you and always chose to tackle it head on rather than pussyfooting around it like you often did.

"It's nothing bad. I was just reminiscing about our relationship."

"Uh-oh."

You snorted and softly swatted at his hand. "Stop."

"Should I be worried?"

You shrugged. "Do you think you should be?"

Lewis smirked then leaned back in his chair. "Hell no. I know I'm the man and the best you've ever had. I'm straight."

You snorted loudly. "Boy!"

His smile was like a ray of sunshine. Instantly your belly flipped.

"Tell me I'm not."

You rolled your eyes and decided to fuck with him a little bit. You released an exaggerated sigh.

"Well I don't know," you began.

It was all you got out before Lewis had darted over to you pulling you straight out the chair and flush against him. It was done so quickly, so smoothly that he took your breath away.

"You don't know what princess? Don't know if I'm the man or the best you've ever had?"

His voice was panty wetting deep, so sexy you couldn't speak cause your throat was clogged with desire.

"Hm?"

He'd now maneuvered to the wall and pressed you against it. Lewis dipped his face to your neck sniffed then placed a soft kiss to your pulse point.

"Cause I have all the evidence I need."

He dipped his lips to your breast where you nipple was painfully hard and pressing against the fabric of your shirt, begging for attention.

"Exhibit A," Lewis said before he enclosed your nipple between his teeth.

"Mm."

He moved to your other nipple but swirled the tip of his tongue around the beaded peak.

You released a breathy sigh as your eyes fluttered closed.

"Exhibit B."

The combination of his voice, the heat emulating from him and his touch was making it very hard to breathe let alone think. Lewis raised your hand, laced his fingers with yours and kissed along your arm where goosebumps decorated your flesh.

"Exhibit C," he whispered.

Your eyes met and the spark of fire you saw within his said he was as turned on as you were, but he was enjoying this. You bit your bottom lip and his eyes dipped to them like you knew they would. Lewis came closer bringing his face to yours. Instinctively you closed your eyes in anticipation of feeling his lips. However, his lips never met yours.

"Shall I continue, or do you have enough evidence?"

Your eyes snapped open and saw the amusement bubbling within them. You were completely spellbound by their beauty--his beauty. Lewis must have taken your silence for a challenge because he used his knee to push apart your thigh and keep one of your legs slightly hoisted in the air resting over his knee. It didn't register what his intentions were until you felt the brush of his fingers against your sex.

"Mmmm."

"M-hm. Exhibit D."

Lewis' fingers slowly petted against your sex in downward strokes and with each stroke you whimpered. You couldn't help but imagine those thick digits pushing inside of you over and over until you saw stars and drenched them. The thought alone was making you even wetter. Lewis moaned then lifted his hand so you both could see your wetness smeared across the back of his fingers.

"I rest my case."

You reached between your bodies then gripped the concealed weapon that was pressing into your inner thigh.

"And what about my case? I'm surprised you haven't poked a hole through those pants with this dangerous thing," you teased.

Lewis smirked then licked his thumb before his hand disappeared between you again. The second you felt his thumb swirl around your clit you gasped and nearly blasted off into the ceiling.

"Shiiit," your croaked.

Lewis didn't stop. He kept his eyes on you, changed his direction then sped his movements. Now he was rubbing from side to side and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. When you felt him circle your opening with a finger your body responded by clenching the sliver of his finger was that there.

"Fuck," Lewis whispered.

"Lewis," you plead.

"Yes princess."

"Please."

"Say it."

Rolling your eyes you decided against beating around the bush or playing hard to get.

"You're the man."

He smirked. "And?"

His appendage spasmed in your hand reminding you just what precious cargo you held in your hands. You squeezed tightly until you saw his eyes flutter closed as if they were heavy. Using your thumb you circled the tip teasing him and his sensetivity there. Lewis' jaw relaxed as a rush of breath left him. When you saw his body shake every so subtly you began pumping your hand up and down. Each time you came up your squeezed and each time you went down you twisted using your wrist.

In just a few seconds, Lewis was moaning softly and quickly getting lost in the pleasure you were giving him. When his fingers began their slow torture again you both transitioned to jerking and rubbing each other trying to make the other lose control first. Just when you were sure you had Lewis right where you wanted him, he pushed two fingers into you, sending your head back into the wall.

"Ah, Lewis!"

You were so close you knew you wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer, so you did the only logical thing--decided to pull him over the edge of debauchery with you. As Lewis fucked into you faster and faster, deeper, and deeper you stroked him as if your movements would get you to your orgasm quicker.

"Y/N. Oh princess!"

The way he stretched out the "c”, "e" and "s" in the word in his deep voice was what did it. Lewis rotated his fingers then hooked them and that was it. You screamed out and grabbed his other arm needing soemthing to hold on to you didn't explode into pieces.

"Uuuugh!"

Your hand grew warmer, then you felt wetness. Looking down between you, you smiled when you found the reason why. He'd came right in his pants.

"For fuck's sake. How do you get me in these situations?"

Your smile widened as you beamed up at him. "Because I'm the best you ever had."

Lewis smiled and pecked your lips. "Fucking right you are."

Lewis kissed your temple, "Come see me race on Friday?"

"Ok."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Friday-

When you arrived at the paddock you made sure you kept your sunglasses firmly on your face. They were big enough that if you played your cards right your appearance here would go unnoticed just like all your other appearances. As you passed influencers, content creators and fans you did your best to remain inconspicuous. For the most part it worked but you did notice a few eyes that followed you and even a few pointing you out while asking the person they were with if you looked familiar. Before any of them could get a closer look, you always changed your course.

Because of that it took you nearly twice as long to get to where Lewis was. When you got there, you saw him sitting with a few other drivers, Carlos, Yuki, Sergio, and George. They laughed together then the interviewer asked another question.

"We know your perfect cars, but I am sure the ladies want to know your perfect women. What catches your eye?"

The men took turns responding while trying not to be too embarrassed by the question. Most played it coy and gave generalized traits and features but when it came to Carlos he smiled widely.

"Perfect woman? That's easy. Y/F/N & Y/L/N."

Your eyes bugged in shock. The men laughed and he shrugged.

"Just right out with it huh?"

"I mean why not? Shoot your shot. She's gorgeous and I've always been a fan, so I've read a lot about her and seen a lot of interviews and she has such a good head on her. You can tell she's down to earth and humble, a really sweet person, who cares about those around her and is a quality person."

The more he spoke the more touched you felt. You almost let out an "aw". As Carlos continued to gush about you, your eyes slipped to Lewis who sat there with both his hands squeezing his microphone, and his face as stoic as ever. If you didn't know any better you'd almost think he wasn't fazed at all hearing another man--a technical co-worker and rival driver singing your graces and making it known that he had a huge crush on you. Almost.

You could tell. Every so often you saw his eye twitch and watched his grip become lethally tight on the mic. To further confirm his slight annoyance you noted the way he toyed with chewing inside his mouth. He was hating this.

"Yes so if she is watching," Carlos said before he held up his fingers to his ear like they were a phone.

Everyone cracked up but Lewis clenched his jaw. You giggled to yourself as you slipped to the ladies room. After touching up your make up, and a few bathroom selfies posted to your social you walked back out. When you were closer to the Mercedes port you spotted Lewis. As if he felt your presence he spun to face you. A smile spread across his lips as one did yours. You were prepared to give him a subtle wave before you turned and went to your spot to watch the race but were caught off guard when you saw him making his way to you.

With wide eyes you looked around and saw people stopping to point at Lewis, which brought eyes to you. When he did a slow jog to close the remaining feet between you, you had the attention of tens of people. When Lewis got rght in front of you, he dipped down gathered you in his arms and lifted you into the air.

"Hi baby."

He didn't wait for your response, his lips pressed to yours bringing a loud gasp from those watching. As he kissed you, you could hear the loud chatter around you. Everyone was wondering who you were and if you were his girlfriend. Your brain was still stunned into inactivity, but your body responded. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck and kissed him back just as fervently as he kissed you. This was no hello peck, or demure greeting. This was a full-on tease, battle for control, passionate make out session.

When you pulled back and peered down at him, Lewis was smiling.

"What're you doing? I don't remember our hello kisses being a hello make out tongue down my throat session. There are so many people watching."

"I just missed you," Lewis replied.

"Did you now? You sure it wasn't hearing another man gush about me and confess his feelings?"

Lewis smirked realizing you'd seen right through him.

"Aw, is baby jealous?"

Lewis scoffed then shook his head.

"Oh my god. You are. Baby."

He reached up and took your sunglasses off revealing your identity to whoever was watching.

"Lewis!"

"You're mine and everyone needs to know."

"Know what?"

"Know that they don't stand a chance."

You snorted then saw a few of the other drivers watching from behind Lewis.

"Then you better kiss me like I'm yours."

Lewis smiled clearly loving that your petty matched his. When he kissed you again it was filled with heat, need and possessiveness. He turned so those behind him could get a perfect view then let you slide down his body. With his arm around you, he led you back with all eyes on the two of you.

"I think I like jealous you," you teased.

"We'll see if you still like him tonight," Lewis said loud enough for the other drivers to hear as you passed by.

Lewis wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis. You rolled your eyes at his antics. This was your man, and you loved every jealous and petty inch of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[frownyalfred]

I read misty over a week ago and I'm still thinking about it non-stop. The way you write is so magical and captivating I keep coming back to read bits of it and just feel impressed each time. Your characterise Bruce and Kal beautifully. I can't help but wonder can we ever expect a sequel for this beautiful fic? No pressure at all, but I'm still swimming in curiosity about that ending and really want answers xD also I adore your blog, thank you for sharing everything. Sending you loads of kudos

Thank you so much! I’m so glad you enjoyed. I think it will probably stand on its own, largely because I really wanted to follow the inspiration song’s arc for the fic itself.

If you haven’t had a chance to listen to Misty by Kate Bush yet, I’ll give it one last rec and then I’ll shut up 😅 the chilling end of the song is what I kind of wanted to capture with the fic’s ending.

The song details the strange dreamlike coupling of a woman and a man made out of ice…possibly a snowman, depending on how you listen. The point is, the two are incompatible — his breath is misty and cold, her touch melts him, but they still manage to come together for one night, briefly.

Yet when the narrator wakes up the next morning, there is no sign of her lover. Only a melted pile of sticks and leaves, and the windows to the bedroom thrown open. Her sheets are soaking. She begs to know where her lover has gone, and eventually steps out onto the balcony, threatening to go out on “the ledge.” Presumably to re-join her icy lover in the snow below.

For the fic itself, I wanted to capture that feeling of madness and panic that the narrator feels at the end of the song. When Bruce wakes up and his sheets are wet, the windows are open, it evokes a feeling of dread. Is Kal here? Is it just in his head? Did he damn Kal, somehow, by returning to Gotham? Is Kal taunting him? Just like in the song, it isn’t clear what happened.

A lot of people have filled in what they think happened in the comments, which I’ve really enjoyed. I think all of those theories have good footing. Leaving it ambiguous extends the dread of Bruce’s uncertainty for us, in my mind. By asking Alfred to dry his sheets, I think he is making an opening move no matter what, which differs from the narrator in the song, so desperate to rejoin her lover.

[sidecharactersdomatter]

Thoughts I had during TGCF S2 Ep 2

Also watching this while sketching now here we go!

Previously on TGCF… 

-And starting off at the Gambler’s Den!

-Hey you’ve heard the old saying, “It costs an arm and a leg” I think this fits perfectly for the red demon masked gambler

-Hey! No getting sweat on the gambling table!

-Hua Cheng: No Thanks~ *fans myself with a hand*

-Yeah those are the best house policies San Lang

-Man, the loop braided ghost assistant is literally all of us fawning over Hualian amirite? (that Ghost maiden is going places!)

-This den operates on Hubris Logic

-Stop decreasing your child’s lifespan!

-Now Roll!  That just made think of DND, I dunno why

-Those dice weren’t loaded (Anybody seen Road to El Dorado 10/10 totes recommend)

-Worst dad I’ve ever seen and he’s just a gambling NPC

-Hehehe Just imagine Toph in the Gambler’s Den (For those anticipating The Scrap Immortal and the Avatar, I’m afraid that’s going to be a scene that won’t come to fruition, really sry readers)

-“It’s despicable, and that’s coming from a ghost like me” that was a really great quote ngl

-Kinda hard to accomplish since you were talking to a ghost

-Yep prolly the worst Dad I’ve ever seen in all of TGCF

-Hi Rouye

-Hi Windmaster

-Honestly, the reason they have Qingxuan switch from Male to female in this season is that from a Union Standpoint, they had to allow Anjali Kunapaneni dub other series while Jacob Eiseman took over and vice versa.  That’s just my theory, I’m not sure if it might be true.

-Aw, he’s worried over his complexion

-Man, Xie Lian’s expression shifts as he inspects Qinqxuan’s complexion.  I love that little attention to detail in the animation.

-And then Qingxuan happily exclaims while putting both hands on his cheek was 100% precious!

-“If I were a mirror where would I be” they have the best lines of this Season 2 so far!

-Wind Master laugh is clearing my pores

-Hi Qianqiu, Hi Mengyou

-Not so smart to me

-All the ghosts have really unique and distinct designs (it’s that kind of uniqueness I’m trying so hard to capture in my TOH Oc murder mystery au)

-“Aw man!  What was his number!  Not cool Taihua!” - Literally every ghost in the Gambler’s den, and also me.

-Well, you’re not wrong, Qianqiu

-Hehehe the double facepalm XD

-Not the brightest candle on the altar

-Let’s face it, we all lost it during Hua Cheng soft chuckle!

- He noticed the laugh!

-Man the background ghost voices are on point

-And I’m like at Qingxuan, “You didn’t read the signs?” Does anybody other than the ghosts, read the signs???

-“He might be fine if he doesn’t reveal who he is” Qianqiu: *reveals who he is* Too soon dude

-That blue masked ghost woman sure has sass

-That blue beaked ghost also has a cool design tho

-Don’t mind me just fanning myself whenever Hua Cheng speaks cause it gives me the vapors~!

-The fact that they thought the same thing!

-No not the gambling table!  

-Woah he sent it right back!

-This is infinitely better than the live action martial acts films I’ve seen in my whole life

-It’s like a stake raising tennis match

-That glow in his eyes

-He’s going Super Saiyan

-That animation really did get better

-“He’s stuck up there!” My comment: “Like a fly on fly paper” My sister’s comment: “Like an idiot on idiot paper” lmao

-Yep just point and laugh ghosts, point and laugh

-You mean from bad to worse

-I told you Ghost City’s the Las Vegas of Ancient China, told ya~

-A new table!

-You’re not wrong on luck

-Snake eyes is even worse

-“Like I said, biggest is so overdone!  Crazy idea, what if smallest wins? Sound fun?”  Qingxuan is spitting bars in the dub people!

-They’re just gonna believe that from two newcomers?

-Xie Lian, internally chanting: “Small…small…small…” His cursed and horrible misfortune: LOL nope :3

-Not your fault for looking like a snack Qianqiu

-Wait till you see the fandom, Taihua

-Alright, hat got Hua Cheng enticed

-Literally everybody witnessing a man in white robes desperately shake a pair of dice: Is…that guy ok?

-His smile widened!

-“I can’t watch!”  I can and it’s gonna be something!

-Oh he sees a lot in that raggedy jerk than you do right now buddy

-“What’s there to teach about shaking dice?  It’s just shakin dice!”  The best random quote of this episode, and the tone when that side character said it!

-“And you’re the expert!” He got sassed back

-*Hears Hong Lian Qian starting up like* Aw yeah, the best song of the new season! *Vibes out with writing and sketching like no tomorrow*

-Dude! Pass me the Aux cord!  You better not be playing mainstream garbage!  *Casually plays Hong Lian Qian like a G!*  WOO!!!

-There he is, just a red transparent curtain keeps them apart, also Hua Cheng’s status but let’s not get ahead of ourselves

-The wind animation!!!, and Wind master’s not even summoning it

-Literally when my older sister first saw this scene she was like: It’s the pottery scene from Ghost

-He rolled an 11!

-If my underaged TGCf OCs witness the infamous dice scene like in season 2, Qing Tao and Chun Xue(both 12) look up to their older friends: “..ssShould we be listening to this?”  And then Lan Hai and Nuan Yu (both 14) frantically respond with covering their younger friends’ ears: “…pProbably best if we played it safe.” (Quotes are from an episode of Close Enough) heck I can imagine the Gaang reacting like this witnessing the dice shaking too, just swap Qing Tao and Chun Xue with Aang and Toph, and Lan Hai and Nuan Yu with Sokka and Katara, (Zuko would also try to cover the Southern Water Tribe Sibs’ ears, but this hypothetical scene also won’t happen in my TGCF x ATLA xover, now back to the reaction!)

-The singing really is timed well with the animation!  10/10 baby!

-“You see, it’s bigger now” …I got the joke

-“It’s starting to feel like San Lang is just teasing me” Oh yes he is~

-They’re chucking their dice at him!

-It’s a 10!

-“Now I’m sure San Lang is just teasing me”  Told ya~

-The chibi scene!

-Welp, looks like those rolls were just practice rolls

-You gotta love Xie Lian’s internal monologue

-Qingxuan chucked his fan at Taihua, and it came back like Sokka’s boomerang (I had to make that reference!)

-That tapir/baku headed Ghost

-It’s a 12, and it timed well with the rising crescendo!

-That one monkey like ghost

-Right on the gambling table!

-Did he cheat?

-The music change!!!  The soundtrack team knew what they were doing!

-“Who cares it’s gorgeous!  He’s so handsome I think I might just die right here!”  “What are you talking about?  You’re already dead!”  That was a really great exchange!

-And he is seeing his real face!

-“Please my lord don’t tease me!”  Oh yes he will~!

-Now the ghosts are suspicious it took em like half an episode!

-Hey guys I think we’re all gonna get a kick outta this, “The stale half eaten bun from Ep 5 was in Xie Lian’s sleeve the whole time!”  I’ve always wanted to quote that, and it was totally worth it!

-Man, I can’t wait to write Aang’s reaction seeing Xie Lian and Hua Cheng interact together!

-“Um, I’m afraid it’s gotten a bit hard” Yep, they slipped that in, and James was a boss at writing the whole english script for the season

-He tosssed the bun up and down like San Lang did with a small piece of a broken sword in S1 Ep 6, the parallels people!  The parallels!!!

-And him biting the stale bun got XL all flustered! AAAHH!!!

-Look at him go!

-Not that random stand, wait it’s still in tact

-Slay that performance Qingxuan!

-Chide him good!

-And Xie Lian’s still does a great job as a strategizer and a mediator

-The introduction that would change the season forever, also Qingxuan’s emotion shift when it came to describing his new friend’s current occupation with collecting scraps as a living

-He knew San Lang was Hua Cheng?!?!?!

-Hua Cheng is messing with them!

-They’re using him as bait!

-Oh yeah, that’s right, they’re friends

-Geez savage, Wind master

-Hey, no dissing Ling Wen she’s doing her best!

-Gone from Season 1 eps 2-3 and Ling Wen still couldn’t find him???

-Welp, there’s the cliffhanger

Does this reaction count for Hua Cheng’s B-Day?  More reactions will be on the way, I’ve got 3 weeks left of my quarter and I’ve got two big projects to finish so hang tight everyone!

[punderdome]

Writer interview game

I got tagged by @reallyhatethiswebsite, and thank you! It made me feel so loved

I think most people I follow are tagged already, but I'm tagging @gravecleric0900, @adinfernumadinfinitum, and @savriea

When did you start writing?

I wrote some bizarre fantasy stories when I was 12-13 that included really, really weird smut, which makes sense when I think back, because I had really no idea how sex worked

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

We all have our own experiences and trauma, and honestly, I struggle being able to write characters with traumas that I have not experienced. I love it when characters are complicated, and that's probably why my favorite BG3 characters are Raphael and the Emperor.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I had no idea how to answer this, so I put Chapter 2 of Fine Print into a site that tells you how similar your writing style is to other authors, and I got fucking Charles Dickens. I hated every story of his that I was forced to read in school. Fuck Charles Dickens.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I write on my gaming PC! Office chair that is exceptionally old and I put a towel over the seat so that bits of foam don't stick to my butt. I should eventually get a new chair, but this one and the towel works for now, and so that's ok.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

When I sit down and actually think what reading I wished was in existence. Then, I have to figure out a reasonable way for that to happen in a story. I like that puzzle of trying to figure out a way for whatever idea to make sense.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

I have only two so far, but insecure characters and characters that need real validation. I mean, I do empathize with this.

What is your reason for writing?

So that we could marry this cambion.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I love it when people just go off with theories and observations, correct or incorrect.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I'm a goofy weirdo who likes wordplay.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I love to set up payouts later and give little details to delight. There is, in fact, Dwarf hidden behind the breadbasket.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I'm kind of a perfectionist in so many areas of my life, that I want people to find it enjoyable. And that's how I find out I have a praise kink.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hiya! How are you?

I was wondering about the timeline at the end of 2x08. The fight between Armand and Louis ends with Louis saying goodbye to Daniel. How quickly thereafter is Louis in NOLA? Does Daniel get out or does Armand turn him immediately? What's going on in Dubai when Louis is in that shack with Lestat? How long after does the book come out?

I'm don't know if there's an actual answer but I'd be delighted to just hear your theory on it 😊

Hey!

I'm fine thank you, hope you are as well?

Weeelllll...

To answer your questions: we cannot answer those yet^^ - not conclusively.

My guess is that the publishing (with editing etc) takes about two (to four?) years. We cannot know what happened in Dubai, though I personally think that Daniel was not turned there right away, but in the years after. There were comments from Assad and Eric which sounded a bit suspicious there :)

We follow Louis to NOLA hearing that "hurricane Odette" is hitting NOLA... but Odette neither really hit NOLA nor was it in 2022 (after the interview), it was 2021. Which ... might mean nothing in a show about memory being a monster, but why then does this indicate the reunion is a faulty memory?!

The shack... well. We might hear about that later on, but as pointed out before, this is the ONE contested meeting in the books. Literally the meeting Lestat later accuses Louis of lying about, in "The tale of the Body Thief"... I cannot see the writers pass that up, especially in this kind of show :)

I am sorry, but these are all good questions *laughs*, and they do move me a lot... but they cannot really be answered right now in a way that is not speculation.

IF you want:

I am currently pouring all my thoughts/ideas/fantasy in a post 2x08 fanfic, which incorporates all those aspects, and all your questions^^.

It's a long one, spanning roughly four years, or it will be, when I'm done with it. I am keeping the canon facts, as I like to do... so if you really want to hear (one version at least) of what (maybe) happened there?^^

You can read it here:

___

The whirling wind hurls debris, little weapons, settling like splinters under our skin

As the dust settles, Louis tries to find back to life - maybe to find Lestat, definitely to find himself. As with all things, this is easier said than done though, their relationship has not been likened to a hurricane for nothing after all, and the devil is definitely in the details.

____

It's Louis' POV, and follows him finding his own footing, and reality now that he's broken the hold. It's Loustat and DM as pairings, but incorporating all the backdrop relationships we know or have hints of already, too.

Please do mind the tags though. And it's a WIP, I am 12 chapters ahead, and at roughly 100k now, it's going to be a monster before I'm done with it :))

But... we have the hiatus after all, do we not :)

And... well.

I'm trying to find the answers in what we were already given to all these questions you also have :) , and more^^

[vitiligo-is-not-a-trend]

Hello!! How are you? I’m a writer and I’d like to incorporate someone with vitiligo into my story, however, I don't know much, which is kind of a problem seeing as I want to be sensitive to the community. Would you be so kind as to tell me some things you do/don't want to see in characters that have vitiligo? Thank you so much!

Hi! Im good thanks for asking, hope you're also doing well!

That's a wonderful question! Before I start I'm just gonna say these are my views on the subject so if anyone else with vitiligo wants to chime in please do so! I'm probably gonna miss a few things!

Let's start with the donts first, and I very much appreciate the fact that you also asked for dos!

I think one of the more a major issues I see around vitiligo have to do with the way in which it's designed. I've made a few posts about it in the past with more details, I think theyre tagged under "character design( tips)". So doing things like making repeated shape patterns like hearts or animal prints or like skulls or whatever is Not Great. This includes making humanized versions of animals. Like recently for the new Puss in Boots movie a lot of people were drawing Kitty Softpaws as a human with vitiligo, and that just...does not feel great lmao. I am aware that things like that don't come from malice but it feels like being compared to an animal in a way.

Another issue I've seen is when it comes to how the character developed vitiligo it happened due to some curse or magic or (demonic) possession something along those lines. This is also a very bad idea, seeing as it's basically demonizing the condition.

Vitiligo is also complicated when it comes to its genetic. There are working theories/plausible explanations for how it occurs but there are a lot of varying factors. However, it is NOT passed down genetically (to an extent) so having a child does NOT mean that you're character's child will also have the condition. It is also not something you get get at birth/in the womb.

Don't change the coloration of it! Vitiligo is DEFINED as a lack of pigmentation, not a change in it, so you can't have characters walking around with pink and patches. You could make an argument with yellow if its for legos I guess but unless you're drawing every white person lego as that neon yellow I'd avoid it still.

Don't only give it your characters of color!! Especially if you only have a few! I feel like this is something I see frequently unfortunately, but having a character with vitiligo or albinism or pibaldism or whatever doesnt make a character less or more of one race or another. I saw a post where someone said it's "curing POC" so....yeah big yikes. I know because it's not as visible on white people some people dont think they can have it, and it doesnt get used frequently in examples which doesnt really help so yeah.

Also try not to make them a villian especially if theyre the only character with vitiligo

As for the Dos:

I'd love to see a character embrace this aspect of themselves. I know a lot of people and for a very long time myself include feel a sense of shame about it. It took me years to get to a point where I feel comfortable let alone happy about having it.

I'd love to see another character comment on it with a compliment, and have the majority of other characters reacting positively and/or neutrally towards its.

However this is technically a disability and there are people out there that do make fun of people for having it so maybe lightly touching on that would also be a good idea. if you don't feel comfortable out-right writing a scene like that, mentioning things in passing like "oh yeah I got bullied for it when I was younger" or "I actually used to cover it up with clothes and makeup" are good ideas.

Having your character also be aware of things like the time and UV index and whether or not they have sunscreen on is also important. Vitiligo is essentially the lack of melanin, which means that there's no real natural defense against sun exposure at play so being sensitive/aware of these things is a good idea especially if they're fairly new to the condition.

Maybe there's another character that also has vitiligo present in at least some aspect. Whether its just some person that your character looks up to and doesn't know personally, but knowing that they have it makes them feel better about themselves. For me this was Michael Jackson!

This is technically kind of a dont but vitiligo spots are very different depending on the variation that a person has! Spots seem to have a relatively slow progression and, as I mentioned, depending on variation, might not progress at all past certain areas. So if the character has a more progressing variation like Universal or Segmental maybe another character can note that a patch or few have gotten larger since they've last saw them especially if its been awhile and not like last moth.

That's all I can really think of as of now, but I'll reblog this if I think of anything else to add!

[imabillyami]

I love your insight. I have one for you, two times, Corey Graves has commented on Solo being Lazer focused on Jey. Even at Crown jewel, he said Roman is focused on Solo, but Solo is watching Jey. Since a lot of stuff od given to them, do you think it's just an observation or playing into a potential dynamic?

Thank you for saying that 🥺❤️ I love these anon asks and discussing things more in depth! And knowing that it’s appreciated is a really wonderful feeling.

The Solo and Jey thing is a GREAT observation! I have a couple of theories on that one so bear with me:

Given Jey’s incredible popularity and connection with the audience and his history as Roman’s Right Hand Man (and original successor) before he left, it’s very well possible that that’s where the story is going and that they are planting the seeds for an eventual Jey vs Solo (vs potentially Jimmy?) for Tribal Chief feud down the line once Roman decides to end his career.

Or it could be Solo very much longing for the kind of popularity and the respect Jey receives, cause he genuinely feels that he’s the one who should be receiving it. The crowds are booing him and he doesn’t understand why, cause in his mind he stepped up when Roman disappeared and gets resented for it.

Or it could be that he thought that Jey of all people would understand having been Roman’s second in command before and leaving that behind. I mean… we saw Jey trying to talk some sense into Solo on Smackdown the other week. And we saw how disappointed Solo was when Jey didn’t understand.

It could also be that Solo is seeing Jey as his way in to weaken the OG Bloodline based on Roman’s and Jimmy’s actions towards him. We’ve already seen Solo trying to recruit Sami and trying to use that connection to his advantage. And manipulating that situation even further to his advantage at Crown Jewel by causing even more dissent between all of them… Solo really learned from the best. He got the Tribal Chief handbook of manipulation down to a T.

Last thought: It could be to piss Roman off. He’s big on ego and jealousy, so Solo paying Jey all that attention could tick Roman off. We’ve seen Roman’s reaction to Jey’s popularity with the crowd and all, so Solo not giving Roman the attention that Roman is paying him, but instead focusing on Jey? You see where this is going.

Those are all speculations obviously and it could be something else entirely, but there’s so many ways to spin this tiny detail into a compelling story down the road.

We all know it’s like that with every single little detail within the Bloodline story, so who’s to say what does and doesn’t matter? Cory is an old school heel commentator, so it could be just a throwaway observation or a dig at Roman, but honestly, I hope it’s more than that.

If you wanna share your thoughts, what do you think?

[wispstalk]

20 questions for writers

under the cut. Thanks to @everybodyknows-everybodydies for tagging🖤

Tagging back: @nuwanders @jiubilant @ervona @ehlnofay @druidx @blossom-adventures @sylvienerevarine @throughtrialbyfire @da3drat no pressure

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Five

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

198327

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just elder scrolls. I have a feeling that's gonna be it for me. I've been tempted to write stardew valley fic lately which would perhaps be classed as "crack" (I know what that is in theory but the way people use it makes no sense to me) but I took a cursory look at the tag and I don't think the stardew valley fandom is ready for a ray fic lmao

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Well. I have five.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try 🫠 it haunts me how often I've left my beloved mutuals on read..... but if that's u and I did, I am telepathically beaming this: !!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Making out sloppy style etc etc

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

lol. lmao even

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

.....within AO3 I guess it's "Morning" but also that's set at a refugee camp? I will say the skyrim story will have a more peaceful ending but up until now fic writing has been an outlet for my thwarted rage and covid brain damage soooo

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I mean this is generally a culture of positive feedback. Someone did yell at me once for hitting martin septim with the transgender beam which is a level of no-life-havin loserdom which could be classed as "hate" but came off as pure cope and seethe

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I really bristle at the word smut sorry its too cutesy. I was a prodomme for seven years I don't do euphemisms lol. I wrote a sex scene into IITT to see how I felt about writing sex scenes. I learned that I am only interested in writing them if they serve specific functions. I have absolutely zero judgment toward anyone who wants to write about fuckin and suckin, that's just not why I'm here

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

No but recently my household watched game of thrones together and my bf and his brother were cracking jokes like what if one of these medieval characters had a gundam. Neither of them read fic so I was like don't be too entertained by yourselves. I bet that has been written. looked it up on ao3 and sure as shit

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I'm not gonna lie I did find a fic where someone very obviously ripped me off but I don't wanna call them out. One specific instance where they bit my style was so clumsily applied as to be obvious, but their prose in general was fantastic so like. who care.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not as far as I know but that would make me holler

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Nope. I'm not opposed to the idea but it's hard to imagine how I'd do this given my process. I think I'd be pretty difficult to work with

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

?!? I dunno I don't have one. I put a lot of effort into writing martinhok but I could not say that one, due to how overwhelmingly heterosexual the tag is. I'm sorry but can everyone who's not a faggot please pipe down

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have my moments with the skyrim wip. I've signed myself up for something pretty complicated and challenging but I also learned that I can finish things so I'm not really worried about it. The fact of the matter is: I do not care if this is good. It matters that it is done so I can move on with my life. If parts of it are boring and overlong that's yalls problem

16. What are your writing strengths?

I get a lot of compliments on my worldbuilding. I do think a lot about the minutiae of material culture and think I have a talent for incorporating detail in engaging ways

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm a cornball. This is a corny activity. I don't really care because I'm doing it for free. Enjoy the unsolicited view into an internet stranger's terrible psyche

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I try to apply with a light hand. I'm a dumbass sheltered American and I can mostly make myself understood in a Spanish-speaking country but that's about it. I like playing around with language and the idea of multilingual societies matters to me so I include it, but I'm not a linguist so I try to work within my limits. Whether I am successful at this is up to others.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Elder scrolls. Never felt compelled until i spent a winter playing oblivion and went wow this game has an incredibly bleak narrative behind a silly aesthetic. Oops now I'm in a lore pit

20. Favorite fic you've written?

The Nature of Fire is my best prose hands down. I'm gonna be real with y'all I am desperate for people to read it. It is genuinely the best I can do at this point and if you like what I've done so far, well, whatever u read sucks compared to this fic.

[twilightmalachite]

VS★PRINCESS - World Order 4

Characters: Mao, Leo, Subaru, Tsukasa

Translator: Mika Enstars

JP Proofreader: 310mc

"I said quit it. We’re just gonna go in circles with this."

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Spring

Location: Prince Castle (Hall)

Several hours later…

Subaru: ♪~♪~

Mao: ♪ ♪ ♪

[WINNER—Isara Mao, “Chandeliers”]

Subaru: Gah, frustrating! I guess you were a bitter fit for that song, Sally~.

Mao: Haha, sorry, Subaru. I can’t afford to lose either, you know.

Now that dang mirror ball’s outta the way. The food and drinks are kind of a mishmash of things still, but things are coming together. It’s starting to look somewhat like a ball, I guess?

Subaru: I’m not satisfied, though… What’s wrong with the mirror ball?

Alrighty then, if you’re gonna block my path, Sally~, then let’s settle it with another “showdown”!

Mao: I said quit it. We’re just gonna go in circles with this.

Well, you’re why we’re where we are now, Subaru, since you started out with a controversial opinion.

Y’know the McDonald’s theory, I think it was called…? If you suggest the least feasible idea, hamburgers, to a group of people who are stumped on what to have for lunch, those who aren’t in the mood for hamburgers will offer up all sorts of suggestions.

Subaru: That theory’s just plain disrespectful!

Mao: Well, guess you’re not wrong. I like burgers too, and the theory really is a cruel one, but…

Even so, I understand why there are standards out there. Thanks to your initiative, the participant’s ideas of their “Best Ball” have become clearer.

So despite the contests for even the most trivial details, it’s starting to look like that fairy-tale-esque ball we’ve been imagining now, isn’t it?

Subaru: Well, that is true. It’s starting to take form, yeah.

It’s far from my idea of a “best ball”, though. I’d like it if everyone could make it more sparkly, but oh well…

Let’s work together, Cathy~! ♪

Tsukasa: Why me?

Please look at the bigger picture, Akehoshi-senpai. As the “portrait contest” made clear, you and I’s ideas are completely incompatible.

No—this issue extends past just you and I. Within this Prince Castle, two primary forces are emerging.

Subaru: Huh? Really? Know anything about this, Sally~?

Mao: Well, it’s obvious to most people. After one “showdown” after another throughout the day, you’ll start to take notice of exactly who is giving what order.

Subaru and I too are becoming rivals.

Tsukasa: That’s right. The venue is now divided into two major forces of disorder and order—Chaos and Cosmos.

Cosmos being the force attempting to recreate the “universal ball” seen amongst fairy tales and the nobility, like Isara-senpai and myself.

And Chaos being the force aiming for a “never-seen-before ball”, with those like Akehoshi-senpai and Leo-san.

Which side is the correct one however, is for the judges to decide, so I will not comment on that. But, they are in natural conflict.

Subaru: Wow~. How do you guys pay such close attention?

But based on how it sounds, the Chaos side doesn’t sound all too cooperative, huh?

Mao: Seems to be the case. It seems the members of that group are each dedicated to what they each want to do. Each of them are just firing off orders as they think of them—no sense of unity at all.

That’s also the reason the Order side is the predominant force, despite there being hard-hitters like you and Tsukinaga-senpai on the Chaos side.

Tsukasa: That’s Teamwork for you.

It is exactly as Nice-san has said. By bringing everyone together towards a unified direction, we can move forward towards the “Best Ball” at a rapid pace.

Subaru: Really? I don’t think that’s the case, though.

Tsukasa: ? Are you trying to lead me astray, Akehoshi-senpai?

I won’t fall for that. This many participants would not be able to come together if it weren’t for Cosmos.

Subaru: No, it’s not that. I mean that the Cosmos side isn’t unified either.

Maybe the rules had been established with this in mind? That’s just a hunch, though.

Tsukasa: Hm… What is it you mean by that…?

Subaru: Sorry, it’s just a hunch of mine, so don’t take it too seriously. Like, a part of me is just thinking, “I wish that were the case~”.

Anyway, we should think about the next order! There’s still a ton of essential stuff we gotta figure out for the ball, isn’t there?

What we have so far is the lighting, and a portion of the food, and the drinks…

What the music to dance to will be, where the dancing will be and by who, and who will be invited and for what purpose—I don’t think we’ve figured out anything like that.

Even without the Chaos side to contribute, I have a feeling it’ll become even more chaotic once it comes to judging.

Those who are on the Cosmos side might also become on the Chaos side when that time comes.

Mao: That’s true. The most important thing we'll have to show the judges is the eventual “Best Ball”.

The genre of song will also influence the dance. Even the idols who are keeping to themselves now will be up for a “showdown” if it means being able to use their best choreography for the dance.

Tsukasa: So the judging for Prince Castle has only just begun, huh.

Come to think of it, I feel that Leo-san has been rather quiet today. Perhaps he’s evaluating the trends of the Audition program? That’d be surprising…

Leo: Done!! This’ll do!

Tsukasa: Huh?

Leo: I’ve thought up ballroom music for the “Best Ball”! Twelve of them!

Tsukasa: T-Twelve? How did you find the time to make something like this?!

Leo: I don’t wanna be underestimated too much~! ♪ I’m a genius composer, so this much is easy peasy!

I’ll be decidin’ who and what this ball is held for!

Anyone who doesn’t agree with my music can bring it on! I’ll deal with you all at once…☆

[ ☆ ]

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[dearestones]

Trust Fall (Yandere! Yagami Light x M! Reader)

Warnings: Yandere character, yandere behavior, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, implied drugging, slight NSFW, etc.

Anonymous Request: I may or may not have just binged all your yandere Light fics and wow you write him really well!! If requests are still open and you don’t mind writing for him some more, could please maybe do yan Light (romantic) with a male childhood friend reader? Maybe even a little nsfw if that’s okay? Thanks a ton for your work so far!!

.

.

.

“Would you do it?”

“The only other option is to let you fall.” Light paused in the middle of his note taking, his handwriting as meticulous and detailed as ever. “If you fell at the right angle and without preparation, you could end up with a severe concussion. Or worse.”

“Well yeah, but even if I wasn’t at risk of falling, would you still catch me?”

His brown eyes glinted and he looked back at his notes, the dismissal clear in his actions. “Don’t you trust me? I will always be there for you.”

That was years ago, back when you were still first years in high school, but you can still remember that conversation to this day. 

He didn’t talk to you all that often—he was consumed by his parents’ high expectations—but you knew that he valued your friendship that had arisen from your shared childhood. 

But that was back in high school.

Sometimes, you worry about Light. He’s an all right kind of guy, brilliant and morally upright. However, despite the facade that you’ve seen him portray for everyone, including yourself, you cannot deny that there are moments when you feel like you don’t know him at all. Nowadays, whenever you see him, you’re struck with a sudden feeling that there’s something off about him. Sort of like if you leave last night’s dinner on the counter instead of kept in stasis in your refrigerator. On the surface, nothing’s changed, but if you really pay attention, you’ll find that the food is no longer the same.

In the same way, when you met up with Light several months into his first year at his university, you noticed that Light wasn’t as gregarious or as friendly as he was back in high school. At first, you had chalked it all up to maturation and a heavy workload from higher education, but that theory didn’t hold up too long. His features, already so handsome, had become almost gaunt, his cheekbones sharper and his eyes that much narrower. When he looked at you, he didn’t seem to actually see you.

He was somewhat closed off when you were younger—and you had entertained that he must have been lonely at the top—but now it seemed like he didn’t care. What used to be brown eyes brimming with wide eyed wonder at the world had become colder and harsher. Like water that had hardened to ice. 

Oh, he played the part of someone who was happy to see their childhood friend again. When you approached him, you saw the cogs in his head turn at a terrifyingly high speed, before he made an offhand comment on how great you looked and if you were still in school. It was like a computer had latched onto your figure, made a calculation, and then delivered it promptly without room for error.

He made sure that he sounded warm, that his inflections were in the right place, and that he made the accommodating facial expressions spot on, but you felt like he was playing a role. 

It didn’t feel like it was Light anymore.

Then again, you supposed that now that the both of you weren’t in the same school anymore, it was to be expected. New life experiences alter one’s perspective on life and you supposed that maybe Light was finally expressing his potential to those who could finally understand him. In fact, you thought that since he seemed so comfortable in that suit of his and surrounded by what you could call were his disciples (seriously, the young men and women who sometimes accompanied him seemed to praise his intelligence at every turn), he would dismiss you and never speak to you again.

Yet, that simply was not the case.

No sooner did you return to your apartment that you received a text from Light.

The text was rather cordial, but you could almost imagine Light was ruffling the back of his hair sheepishly, his fingers flying up and down the buttons on his cell phone. There was that nagging feeling again that this was a ploy for something, but since Light wasn’t there to influence your perceptions, you brushed it off. 

Maybe you caught him at a bad time.

Maybe he was acting so strangely because it had been a long time and you did manage to surprise him when he was clearly on an outing with fellow university students. 

You replied back and within an hour, the both of you switched to speaking on the phone and scheduling a place and time where you could meet again. 

The next time you saw Light, you were once again somewhat aware that Light had changed, but it was muted now. It was like the last time you had seen him, the curtains had been raised open to let the audience take a sneak peek of the inner workings of the stage. However, as you seated yourself near a fountain in the middle of a mall, you saw that Light looked more open, looked a lot more like the Light that you used to know, but you knew that it was all a lie. 

If he had seemed a little eerie, but bearable then, you were downright unnerved now. 

Because Light’s smile and his flowing conversation drew you in and to your surprise, you wanted to be kept near his side. Was this what his disciples at the university felt like? It was almost like you were being inducted into a cult. 

The stage curtain had been pulled aside during your first encounter, but now it was closed shut without any hint of an encore.

This Light you saw before you was trying to emulate the friend that you used to idolize back in high school. 

And yet, you didn’t care.

The both of you got to talking about what was going on in both your lives. Well, it was mostly yourself now that you thought about it. Light was keen on knowing everything about you: from your work and school schedule, your current friends, and even your political views. In contrast, Light remained mostly silent and had only given you a paltry response to your inquiries about his time in university. Apparently, he had spent some time away from school to help work on a murder case for his father. 

You were intrigued and somewhat confused. Was he truly that intelligent and qualified?  

He waved away your concerns and said that he had taken classes online, thereby making sure that he was still up to date on his education, but that he was still surprised that his social life had flourished rather quickly. He laughed at that, almost like he was in on an inside joke. For reasons unknown to you, a sense of dread pooled and congealed into the pit of your stomach.

Eventually, the conversation stretched into the late evening and he convinced you that you should be with him more often. 

And so you did.

As time went on, those fears and anxieties faded away. Your misgivings were still hanging around the edges of your mind, but they were muted and the emotions you associated with them were hollow at best. If you thought about them for too long, a sense of foreboding would overcome you, but you would think of Light and his kindhearted nature, of how he sacrificed so much of his first year as an adult helping his father out on an important case. Sometimes, when the both of you were accompanied by his other friends, you would see him praising them for their achievements and give them tips on how to improve their standing. 

He was a great guy if you think about it and maybe that first few meetings with him since you were separated was just a result of stress. There was no reason for you to be suspicious of him, right?

And then, time passes and the both of you begin to grow closer together. The both of you talk about your hopes and dreams, of where you think you’ll be ten years down the future. Eventually, you no longer see Light’s friends. Rather, it’s just the two of you and whatever topic you want to talk about. It’s during these moments, when you think that the both of you are alone, that Light acts more touchy than usual. 

At first, it confused you, but he would hold your hand gently, as if you were glass and his eyes would immediately seek you out whenever you enter a room. You had your suspicions at first, but when the both of you decided to visit a club late at night—you had brought it up as a joke, but Light took you seriously, almost as if he thought that you were challenging—you realized why Light was acting the way he was. 

After downing a drink or two, a pretty young woman took you by the shoulder and asked you to dance. A little buzzed from the drink, you were more than happy to accompany her, only to find that Light’s hand was firmly clenched around your hip and that he was staring hard at the young woman. It was rare for him to pull rank on someone, but you had seen him before in action when an academic rival of his decided to “fact check” only for his rival to fall flat on his face when Light delivered a grenade that knocked him back into place. 

“He’s with me,” Light said with confidence. 

As he said those words, he tugged you into him and you were flush against his chest and his other arm curling around your waist. Dread filled you again, but it was mixed with those drinks of yours. You could say that you were… somewhat awed. Maybe even impressed? No, those were the wrong words; you were aroused by his confidence that you would acquiesce to his dominant nature. 

“O-oh, sorry!” The young woman, who had been smiling in flirtation, quickly took her leave and began hitting on someone else. 

Together, the both of you stayed in that same position. As the club’s light pulsed in time with the rhythm of the pounding music, you could feel him. Just him. His breath ghosted across the skin of your neck, his arms were your cage. His chest, his legs, his entire being was like a wall that you hesitantly leaned towards. 

He hummed in approval and you felt your pants become just a little bit tighter and the hold on your sanity slowly slipping. 

“Was that necessary,” you mumbled, knowing that he would hear. 

“Well, I should hope so.” His hand squeezed your hip and if it weren’t for the fabric of your shirt shielding the smooth expanse of your skin, you expect to see a series of crescent moons close to bleeding. “You’re my friend and I’m not too keen on letting you go that easily.”

“Friend?” You parroted back at him, unsure if he was joking. You had suspected that maybe…

Suddenly, you felt something rough grinding up and down against your ass, something hard poking against you. You gasped and if you had the strength, you would have turned around, but you didn’t want to. Was it really Light who was touching you so inappropriately, yet embracing you with the devotion of an intimate lover? 

Hesitantly, you looked back.

His eyes met yours and they gazed at you with what you could only assume was predatory delight. Apprehension ran up and down your spine, your breath stilled, but you remained still in his hold. You even found yourself leaning into it.

He hummed under his breath—you could feel slight rumbles under his chest. 

He was pleased with your response.

“A misnomer,” he seemingly apologized. He spun you in his arms and his mouth neared yours. You prepared yourself for a kiss, but he laughed. “A little bit eager, are we? Do you want me to kiss you now?”

The lights pulsed, your head pounded, and you were feeling so very warm. So very hot. 

You couldn’t think clearly, but you felt your head nodding. 

“Hmmm, but would this make you mine?”

What did that mean? Never mind that, you thought. The heat was clouding everything around you until you were stuck in a bubble that was just you, Light, and the rising tension and crackle of electricity between the two of you. 

“Yes,” you leaned into him, only for him to dodge your attempt to kiss him. You pouted, but continued to plead in a way that would embarrass you come morning. “Yes, I’ll be yours. Just—!”

He kissed you sweetly, but at the very back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think that his kiss was too perfect. Too practiced. 

And—

If you were being really honest…

You could have sworn that it would have taken more than just two drinks for you to become so pliant and trusting.

Oh well, you always trusted Light to catch you if you ever fell. You just never realized that it would be in a romantic light. 

.

.

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DISCLAIMER: I do not condone yandere behavior outside of fictional settings. Please don’t mistake the actions of fictional characters displayed in works of fiction to be considered harmless in real life.

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DEATH NOTE MASTERLIST

[good-beanswrites]

LCSYS ask again(undercover asker here hiiiiiaufhghghgn)thank you for responding!!!! ilovfe seeing your ideas theyre such good fuel in between trials❤️❤️

i was wondering how th prisoners would react to es’ usage of violence, like some of the younger prisoners complaining about it while the older are concerned because Hello Where did that stem from???? you cant tell me es’ “phew, i feel so much better” after hitting shidou didn’t send his mind racing a million miles per minute

ALSO curious about YONAH………… similar to how red’s violence towards es was scripted, was kotoko’s monologue about es being imperfect Also scripted, or was it on her own? yonah is probably my favourite voice drama of all time and I’m curious about how it would be interpreted in this au 🫶

Ah hello again! Thank you so much for reaching out -- every time I think I've covered everything you guys hit me with a new insane detail that makes my brain go brrrrr >:3

Because OMG I spent so much time thinking of the faked violence, I don't know why I never put as much attention on the flipside! I love the idea of Jackalope assuring them, "there will be no physical punishments. We'll talk about restraints but that's all fake. We'll make up injuries between trials but that's all fake. You don't have to worry about any real pain." And then this 15yo strolls up, interrogation one, ready to smack someone😅😅😅

Seriously though, I think it would come as a pretty big surprise to the group. They knew it was a possibility, but didn't think Es was that likely to attack, since they've made a few comments about being against violent punishments. Haruka comes back to mention the slap, and Yuno follows their instructions and says she also suffered violence, and the group is Shocked. I think it would just kill Fuuta that he wasn't allowed to hit back and avenge the others. He probably has the most complaints about the situation (and is insanely relieved that he get by in his own interrogation.) In a feeble attempt to get back at Es and make them feel bad, he encourages Muu to cry and make a big show about being afraid of them. Muu is frightened enough that it doesn't take much persuasion... I think Kotoko and unfortunately Amane wouldn't mind the threat, they both have lives in which authority showing power isn't out of place (and maybe Haruka?). Mahiru, too, thinks it's just the way a prison guard can run their prison if they want, though she's determined her charm will keep things running pleasantly.

Kazui reaches out asap* to question the legality of the experiment, since they're allowing children to get hit, even if by other children. There's a tangle of signatures and consent from everyone involved so it's okay, but the whole thing still rubs him the wrong way. He knew the experiment was a bit shady, but he(Though, this does make his first vd kind of funny -- instead of actually talking through his theories on the prison, now it feels like he's just egging Es on to see if they'll actually hit him...)

And I really like that idea that Shidou's dad instincts kick in (or maybe it's doctor instincts)! He'd understand if it was a child trying to play the role of an intimidating adult, but the way Es is doing things, the things they're saying, it all points to something deeper going on in Es' head. I can see him sitting down with the others and Jackalope to discuss. Of course Milgram gives him very little to work with, but this still kickstarts everyone's efforts to make sure Es is also taken care of post-Milgram.

*I just realized I'm still a bit fuzzy on communication during the trials. Jackalope can definitely get information to the prisoners (most commonly the 'voices' they're supposed to be hearing based on Es' notes, but also in case of emergency changes or things). I was picturing the prisoners unable to communicate outward until the trial ends, as it builds up the feeling of isolation and imprisonment. The issue is, I feel like Jackalope would want to keep that line open in case the prisoners had questions/issues with the experiment that affected their acting. So idk if the prisoners voice these concerns about Es mid-trial or they're forced to wait. I'll get back to you on that, hm

And Yonah!!

I wasn't avoiding spoilers, I actively looked for snippets here and there, but it was this ask that finally motivated me to sit down and watch it through -- and I'm SO GLAD I DID 👀 It's really well-written and wonderfully acted!! I'm floored with the whole thing omg

I really like the idea that the Milgram team instructed Kotoko to mention Es' imperfection to rattle them a bit, but left the specifics to her. Jackalope thought she'd just make some quick comment, and does a double take when he listens in on the interrogation and realizes she has a lot to say on Es and the way Milgram is run.

Jacklope told her to be harsh with Es, and she thought that was no problem at all. She felt those opinions strongly and wasn't going to go easy on the criticism just because they were a kid. She goes into the interrogation ready to stay completely put-together... and then surprises everyone and herself when Es' distress moves her to pull them into a tight hug and tell them everything's going to be alright ;---;