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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

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collab masterlist

✧ pairing: villain!hawks x afab!reader

✧ word count: 5k

✧ warnings: this is like all smut, angst, ambiguous but happy ending, unhealthy relationships, mentions of transactional sex, reader has a healing quirk but it's really just for poetic purposes, reader has a vagina, no other gendered parts, oral sex (reader receiving), vague metaphorical drug reference, mentions of blood, mentions of wounds, mating press, soft sex (?), sorta, slight potential could be read as dubcon but they're both into it

✧ summary: for years you've stitched hawks back together when the world has torn him to shreds—and he always pays you back, though you can't help but start want more than he can give you.

✧ a/n: hey y'all this months theme was villain/hero swap with a shared opener! please go check out all the other wonderful works in this collab, there are so many talented writers/artists involved!! credit to @/lady-bakuhoe for the amazing intro. also bonus points if you catch the old aesthetic tumblr post references.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

***

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

That fact is made even more horrifically apparent as he stumbles through your open window—and how long has it been since you’ve slept with it closed?—dripping with blood and panting from his flight.

The T.V. blares in the background, filling your tiny apartment with incessant ramblings that only grow louder by the day, and you already know what they’re going to say before they say it. Because you see him, before the reporters stumble upon heroes in the wreckage—you see what they do to him before they’re warning the public of dangerous villains loose in the streets.

They spout off about failing heroes but you think they’ve done a pretty damn good butchers job. Red feathers matted together, sticky and brown, fall in tufts from his back. You burn with shameful jealousy at the thought of those who would call themselves heroes having laid hands on what is yours.

He isn’t really yours and you know that, though you often wish you could be a bit more delusional. It might not hurt so much then.

They call him a villain. They call him a threat to society.

But even faced with the truth spilling from him and onto your creaking floors, it is easy to forget what a ruthless predator the man before you becomes when he leaves these four walls.

Especially as he falls forward on heavy feet straight into your arms, outstretched and waiting. There are stains on your shirt but you’ve known the secret for getting blood out of clothing for years now. Cold water for the fabric, warm to wash away the grime on his lovely skin.

“Gonna need you to fix me up again, sweetheart,” Hawks mumbles into your shoulder where his forehead rests.

His breathing is even more ragged now, not just from the flight.

“I know,” you reply and your hands shake when they find the gaping wound at his side—wide and deeper than the ones before. “I know. Can you walk?”

He doesn’t respond but that mop of golden hair shifts a bit as he slings an arm over your shoulder and rests his weight. You don’t need to direct him to your bedroom. This is an old game you’re playing and he knows the steps.

So do you.

Though, you’re never sure if it's dread that fills you and makes your stomach knot and your knees weak. Or if it’s that awful, momentary rush of excitement at the prospect of being able to run your fingers over him, bare and giving you free reign.

As long as he’s bleeding out on your floor.

Then you can feel him.

When he’s dying and needs you.

Needs you to fix him.

But won’t ever let you close enough to finish the job the way you want to.

You comfort yourself in with the knowledge that at least he lets you this close. At least those thin, silver-skin scars are the unmistakable mark of your healing hands. At least you’ll always haunt him like the red feather down that sticks to your pillows or between your floorboards.

So you strip him carefully and try not to let his sculpted chest distract you from the work. Hawks is silent, such a model patient as always. Only grunting when your fingers move to knit together the ragged edges of his flesh.

This will leave a nasty mark, you know it already. But you can’t find it in yourself to mourn the loss of that lovely skin.

It will only make it harder for him to forget you.

You’re knelt beside him, laid out on a towel you keep at the edge of the bed. Blood will soak through to the sheets regardless, but you try your best. He takes a sharp breath, white teeth catching the back of his hand between them to stifle groans.

You wish there was more pleasure to it. That he was biting back moans for you instead of trying not to scream as his flesh pulsed and grew hot while it was rebuilt under your fingertips. So you indulge, pretend your hands are elsewhere, roaming his perfect waistline and pulling whimpers from him.

Your dangerous, villainous, predator Hawks sprawled on his back, wings spread and cumming onto his chest under you.

The sounds above you change, and you know it hurts—must be excruciating as bone is set back into place—but you chose to believe it’s because he’s trying to keep himself from screaming your name as he reaches his release.

Hawks, you’d croon to him—Hawks because you don’t know his real name. Don’t know who he was before he started this underground life of crime on the fringes of a society that called him a monster and then turned him into one.

He isn’t a monster in your bed, though he may cry like one.

Cry as you mold his flesh and try not to look him in the face. Try to pretend they are an overflow of some better emotion. And when those summer wheat field eyes roll back in his head and those horrible pretty noises stop, you push past the growing ache in your limbs until the skin under your palms is smooth and no longer leaking thick, red blood.

And you do your best to resist the itch to feel more of him while he can’t stop you. Even with your fingers numb from overexertion, you can’t help but fall back on your heels and long for the feeling of his cheek in your hand, or his chest on your face.

But your part of the transaction is done.

And your permission doesn’t extend past these limits.

And it pains you to wish harm on him.

But it hurts even more when he does not need you.

So you sit and hate yourself and hope that those heroes with their disgusting philosophies get their shit together just a bit more. So you won’t lose your purpose. So he’ll keep coming through your window, permanently open through rainstorms and snow and spring heat.

Hawks’ breath evens slowly, and you stay still as a watched painting—no shifting eyes or moving limbs.

You crave these times like water or warm food—constant and instinctively.

And this is the only time you’ll ever have them, hands so filled with pinpricks of fried nerves that you can barely feel the soft, relaxed muscle beneath them.

What a tragedy.

What an injustice—

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

***

“Hmm,” he groans, sitting up and wincing as the new flesh protests under his movements.

“You should rest for a bit longer.”

Hawks looks at you, stretched next to him on the mattress—a purposeful few inches of space left between your bodies. It’s both selfish and practical advice.

But he isn’t here for that kind of help.

“You know I can’t just be sittin’ on my ass,” he quips, flashing you that eyes closed, wide smirk that sets your heart hammering in your chest. “Can’t have anyone tracing me back here.”

“Normally I’d agree,” you don’t find it in yourself to give the words any bite, “but you were just actively bleeding out a few minutes ago.”

“Sure, but that was a few minutes ago,” he winks and you can already feel the bed shifting as he moves to settle himself over your hips, one toned thigh on either side to bracket you against the bed. “Now, let me pay you back for all that hard work, yeah sweetheart?”

You wish the way he peered up through those long lashes, gold eyes honed in on you like a piece of meat on a hook, didn’t make your face burn this much.

It doesn’t mean anything to him.

Because this arrangement really is transactional—so you have to get something out of it too. At least, that’s what he tells himself, you think. He doesn’t know that those scant few moments you hold his life between your fingers is more than enough payment.

It’s been this way since the very first time you stumbled across him, half dead in an alley. But then you think it might have just been a ‘heat of the moment’ sort of thing that had just stuck.

You heal him and he makes you writhe on the sheets with his tongue and his hands, until you're fucked into unconscious bliss and he can slip away without your prying eyes watching him go.

But you still aren’t allowed to touch Hawks, even when he reaches into those deep parts of you and molds them to fit only him.

“You don’t—” you start to protest, partly because you want to believe you don’t want it and partly because you want to hear him insist that he does.

“Shh,” Hawks presses a calloused finger to your mouth and it takes every ounce of strength not to suck it past your lips. “I don’t like leaving my debts unpaid.”

That’s the end of your determination for the night. So you try to relax into his touch as slides your bottoms off and tosses them to the floor. Try not to clench up under those fingers that spread your legs. He doesn’t like it when you squirm away, when you flinch from his hands.

You want to think it’s because he hopes you aren’t afraid of him—of what he is—like the rest are, and not because he wants to get it over with as quickly as possible.

You want to.

But he’s so hard to read, and your mind is not often a kind place.

“Mm, god I’m always so hungry after you patch me up baby,” Hawks licks his lips as he stares down at you. “You won’t mind if I eat you right?”

You cringe at how fast your head shakes.

“Mm, course you wouldn’t.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice, and he’s right though you resent it a bit that he’s got you pegged so easily.

But you’re weak, you’re no villain, you’re no hero.

And so you’ll never be able to resist him. But, damn, did you wish you had a name to cry out. Then at the very least, you could keep a part of him with you too. Then you’d have some to moan on the nights he goes uninjured and you have to bring yourself to lonely release, only thinking of him.

Of those wings spread above you like a burning, red sunset, obscuring the rest of the world from view with his blinding light.

“Hawks…” you hiss instead as he shifts your legs over his shoulders and lays his tender chest on the sheets. “Please.”

“Yeah, yeah, what’s it gonna be tonight then?” he asks, breath ghosting over the damp folds between your thighs.

“Thought you said you were gonna use your tongue,” you whine, impatient now for any scrap of attention he’s willing to give.

“If that’s what you want,” he presses a kiss into the crease of your leg and hip, nipping the delicate skin so you whine again. “It’s whatever you want, you know that.”

It isn’t though.

It’s not whatever you want.

You can pick the position, you can ask for his mouth or his fingers, but even then, they won’t go past your neck. Your hands must stay firmly knotted in the comforter and away from him while he works. Cause he is working. This is part of the job to him, it's only in your fantasies that he’s doing it simply for the hell of it.

Hawks nudges your embarrassingly soaked slit with his nose and hums at you, “So is that what you want? Want me to eat your pretty pussy, yeah?”

“Yes—ngh,” you don’t get much in past the confirmation.

He’s a busy man.

He doesn’t have time for your stupid, romantic day dreams.

So he dives right in, and it’s enthusiastic enough that you can convince yourself he simply wants you that badly.

Hawks tongue licks a long strip from your hole to your clit and sucks the little bud past his plush lips. They’re a lovely, soft pink against your skin and they make a mess of you in seconds. He starts up an even rhythm, drawing circles into the nerves that sing and have heat building up in you only seconds after he’s started.

You hate that you love how well he knows your body.

You hate that you only know his when it’s shutting down.

“You taste so good, you know that?” he mumbles, lapping at you and kneading your thighs. “Could live down here just drinking you every fucking day.”

He doesn’t always talk like that but you’re happy he is now. It distracts you from the deep, ingrained urge to yank him by the hair and taste yourself on his lips.

“Makes me wish I’d let those damn heroes get hits in more often,” he’s back to panting and you keen at the sound. “Want my fingers too?”

“Fuck yes,” you don’t even bother hiding the desperation anymore.

He deserves the boost to his ego. You’d shower him with praise if he’d let you, bathe him in warm words and press them into his skin with your tongue.

But he doesn’t let you.

Hawks’ hand on your thigh trails slowly against the sensitive skin until he’s pulling back to run his fingers through your folds to ease the stretch a bit as he pushes two inside. He knows you can take what he gives to you, knows you love the way he fills you up.

Your tingling hands ache to grab his head and force his lips back as he sits for a moment, eyes glued on the space where his fingers disappear into your body. He groans low at the wet sounds your bodies make at their joining. Your legs shake where they rest on him, the one other point of contact he’s allowed. Those deadly soft feathers brush your calves as he curls his fingers up and waits expectantly for the strangled cry he pulls from you.

“There it is,” his voice is so much lower when he speaks now. “Can’t exactly show you the real ones, but how ‘bout you let me make you see some stars, huh?”

He asks so much of you. So much. So often.

In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever actively asked him for a thing he hadn’t already offered in the few years you’d known him. Hawks does it all—the taking and the giving and the demanding.

And you’re simply along for the ride, holding on for dear life lest he drop you, let you plummet like rock to the barren ground.

Still, you are mortal and you crave and you will take what you can get.

“Mhm,” you whimper when his deft fingers increase their pace, not thrusting but grinding mercilessly into that delicious spot inside.

“You wanna cum now, sweet thing?”

Then, true to his villainous nature, Hawks latches his lips back onto your clit, wracking your body with waves of truly sinful pleasure. His tongue draws quick, perfect circles across the bud just how you like. You’ll never know why it feels so much better when it’s him touching you.

How he knows exactly what you want.

Most of it.

Then his other hand is reaching around your hip, thumb taking over to press down where his tongue had been. Panting for the third time, his gorgeous head rests on your thigh and he stares dead on into your eyes. That predator yellow gaze pins you to the pillows better than any hand could and he licks across his lips while you watch, moaning as he tastes you there.

You groan deep and unabashedly at the sight.

“What is it?” he’s teasing you, unable to keep that part of his cruelty hidden even now. “What do you want?”

You shake your head and wish you could turn away, flop against the mattress and writhe but you can’t. You just can’t give up this moment that’s etching itself into your retinas—like you’re staring head on at an eclipse, celestial and short-lived.

“Tell me,” Hawks whispers, nipping at your thigh and working his fingers harder on you. “Whatever you want, you’ll get it.”

And maybe it’s the sudden heat of the room, or the little breeze from his wings spreading defensively to block you from view of his nonexistent audience—the outside world maybe? To keep you, this secret indulgence, hidden from their prying hands. Or quite possibly it’s just your own weakness at the feet of years and years of loving—because you do, you love him, it’s clear by now that’s what this is—this man whose name you don’t know and whose eyes never seem to leave you even when he’s gone.

Maybe you simply crack under the pressure of keeping this awful, looming silence for too long.

You feel your lips split at the seams and it all comes rushing out in a polluted flood—a stagnant river of secrets.

“Let me touch you,” you gasp and close your eyes then just so you won’t have to see that grin slip from his beautiful face. “Please Hawks, let me touch you. I can’t do it anymore, just—I need to kiss you, I need more.”

All this time he hadn’t let up on pulling pleasure from your skin, but he stops now, bringing your release to a screaming halt.

The quiet that follows—devoid of fast breaths and wet slapping—is suffocating.

You wish you regretted the outburst, the waste of years worth of work to keep him coming back.

But you don’t.

Of course you will in a minute, when he slips away and doesn’t return.

But now it just feels as though that boulder of secrecy has been lifted off your chest and you can finally take in lungfuls of sweet, unhindered night air.

It’s only after that dreadful minute has passed and there are still hands on you—buried in you—that you dare to open your eyes again.

Hawks is staring blankly, an expression you’ve never seen before, so stark from the usual quirk of his lips and tilt of his chin. Blank, but calculating. You can see the gears clanking as his thoughts rush a mile a minute, faster than he’d ever dream of soaring over the city skyline.

He blinks once, twice, then again and you can see the redness blooming at the corners as his eyes grow glassy between each flutter of lashes. And then, as though moving through honey, he draws back from you, only to crawl up your body until your noses touch.

You hold your breath, lip caught between your teeth, but his slicked thumb comes up to pull it out of your gnawing reach. He strokes across the puffy skin, never meeting your gaze, until he slowly, slowly leans down.

It’s not really a kiss, more of an accidental brush, so little of your lips touch you could easily have imagined it. When he speaks again, you can feel him forming the words against you.

“I—” he starts and licks his lips and yours and you don’t think it’s an accident, “I can’t.”

It isn’t what you want him to say, but it’s better than a silent loss .

You know truth when you hear it.

“I know.”

And you do, you do know, you’ve always known. He’s darker when he’s not with you. You’ve seen the carnage he leaves behind broadcasted on screens, but it’s never stopped the ache before.

He can’t keep you the way you want, can’t have things that get in the way.

You can only touch him when he’s dying. You can heal him, reform his flesh and bone—pull him back from the brink—but you’ll never feel his chest against yours or his hair slipping through your fingers or have all of him buried inside you. He’ll never love you like you want him to.

It doesn’t stop you from wishing.

And apparently, it doesn’t stop Hawks from kissing you anyway.

“I can’t,” he repeats and it sounds so broken you almost think that wound has reopened and he’s going to start slipping away again.

But the only thing that slips is his tongue past your lips and tangling with your own.

And then the levee breaks.

It’s a sudden torrent of hands and legs knotting together like the torn edges of too many injuries. Hawks covers every available part of you like an addict seeking his fix. It’s breathless and uncoordinated but you’ve never felt more alive, alight, aflame.

He presses his lips to yours again, pulling away and then diving back in. Frantic hands pull you off the mattress until your back is against the headboard and he’s straddling your lap. You take the opportunity to sink your fingers into that goldenrod hair and it’s just as silky as you’d imagined it to be.

Hawks moans into your mouth, kissing you wildly, like the beast he is with teeth clacking and your tongue sucked between his lips.

“I can’t,” he keeps mumbling, between groans and hips grinding and hands grabbing, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t— “

You wonder then which one of you he’s trying to convince.

But you don’t ask, just let your hands wander to the delicious curve of his ass on your thighs and squeeze, rolling his bulge against you. His fingers push and proud, ghosting across your chest and stopping to pinch your nipple. He drinks down the whimpers you let out, letting his lips wander your jaw and throat, sucking bruises—leaving his own scars on you—as he goes. He pushes you back down to the pillows so his lips can continue their work, latching onto the quickly hardening bud and suckling lightly. His groan sends little shockwaves through you and he looks up with brows furrowed like he’s in pain with how good it all feels.

“I’m sorry,” he says and it’s so soft you barely hear it between licks at your chest.

“No,” you finally find it in you to respond, shaking your head and pulling him back to your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he says again while you nip at his earlobe and down his jaw, tight pants yielding under your hands as they’re tugged away so he’s just as bare as you.

“No,” you shake your head and any response dies on his tongue as you dig your fingers into the feathers at the base of his wings and pull him forward.

Hawks lets out a choked gasp as his length, bare, hard, and leaking glides across your cunt. Any other time, you’d have liked to savor this moment. Get on your knees and worship his pretty cock—and you know it's pretty, just from your short glimpse. He’s long and perfectly thick, just how you dreamed he would be. The cute tuft of blond curls at his base is course in the best way as you trail your fingers through it to take him in your palm.

“Ahh,” he keens, arching above you with his head thrown back as you stroke him for the first time.

It’s been so long, you're not sure how you ever resisted this before. Not with how heavy and warm he is in your fist.

“Hawks,” you moan, sucking at the dip in his collarbone and moving to bite at his nipple. “Hawks, please.”

“I—” you think he might protest but you flick your thumb over the tip and it pours precum to help the slide of your fingers.

He’s already got those powerful arms hooked under your knees, all he has to do is lean forward and sink into that tight, awaiting heat, and he knows it. You can see the resolve cracking.

“Hawks,” you beg again. Because you are begging, that’s what this is.

And he looks at you, drool slipping from the corner of his mouth and brows all bunched up with his head shaking.

“Hawks.”

His hands grip the underside of your thighs and knock your hand from his dick.

“Hawks.”

His forehead comes down to rest against yours, eyes squeezed shut and red at the edges. You feel the sting at the corners as if they were your own.

“Hawks.”

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

Is he dying now?

Are you killing him?

“Hawks.”

His breath hitches, whatever he might have said is long gone when the head of his cock catches against your entrance.

“Hawks—”

He sinks in to the hilt all at once and the last utterance of his name is a yelp. Your walls clamp down hard around the intrusion, so much bigger than his fingers, so hot and long and thick as he pulses inside you.

There are no words after that.

No names, no refusals, just his face pressed up on yours as he pushes your thighs to your chest and rolls his hips, fucking you evenly into the mattress.

Not soft or slow or overly rough.

Though it is all of those things at once as well.

Hawks has always been full of contradictions. It makes sense that this is too.

Both your eyes stay open, lips brushing and sharing breath as he slips a hand back down to your clit and starts those perfect circles up again.

He doesn’t ask you questions now. Just stares in your eyes and sinks his cock into your over and over until you feel fuller, more complete than you ever have in the whole of your life.

There’s no warning leading up to the end. You feel the crest approaching, the coil waiting to snap low in your belly and you don’t dare take your eyes off his face. You need to commit the entirety of this moment to memory. Just in case.

Just in case it never happens again.

Or worse, it happens over and over until it doesn’t.

Until you run out of chances to touch him.

Until he comes to you too far gone.

“Oh fuck,” he mutters and that’s all the warning you get.

All the warning you have the strength to listen to as you tumble over the edge, waves of rolling pleasure burning under your skin. You clench hard around his cock as his hips stutter in their pace, thrusting unevenly as you gush and he spills rope after rope of hot release deep into you.

And you’d been wrong before, because this was full. This was whole, your stilling bodies pressed together at every point with his cock still hard and twitching as your walls milked him of cum that warmed you from the inside out.

This is what you would die for.

***

Later when you stumble into unwilling wakefulness, there are hands tucking a thin sheet over your bare skin.

Hawks has pulled himself from you after resting like you’d told him he should. He’s dressing, though not hurriedly, and you can’t find it in your jelly bones to move or stop him.

You’re both silent, even when he looks down to find your eyes alert and raking over him—costume donned and wings prepared for flight.

His face is drawn in a way that might have been resentment. Maybe towards you for breaking his resolve, maybe at himself for indulging in what he cannot have.

I can’t.

You hear the words as clear as though he’d just said them.

I can’t.

Can’t have you. Can’t forget his purpose. Can’t have gentle things.

Hawks is a villain, first and foremost, above all else and that includes you.

So you don’t move to stop him as he walks softly through your door. You just watch as he makes his way to the open window and perches on the ledge. He does look back, only briefly, to see you draped across the sheets, head resting on your arm and staring at him as he leaves you.

The ghost of that cheeky grin crawls its way onto his face before he tips backwards off the landing and into the night sky. He winks once before the indigo of the night swallows him like the maw of a leviathan. The city has teeth and it will chew him up and spit him back out into your arms soon enough.

So you’re content to wait.

You know this isn’t the last time. That he’ll come back to you as he’s always done. And offer you more and more of himself each time.

Because you can only touch him when he’s dying.

And this world is nothing if not determined to kill him.

So you can keep your purpose.

And by extension, you can keep him.

#hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #keigo takami x reader #villain!au #bnha fanfiction #tw blood #tw dubcon #hawks angst #hawks smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bee.writes

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castielcommunism · 3 years

Note

My friend and I were just talking about the loss of the horror movie lighting vis a vis the goofy episodes!!!!! We agreed w your sentiment also I think it makes the goofy ones more fun if the ones around them are at least TRYING to conform to the horror genre makes em pop

sorry this is going to be slightly off topic, but a good comparison is the witcher (specifically the third game, though the books work just as well), which imo does monster hunting a lot better. there’s a lot of goofy or absurd side quests in that game, and while some are played as pure silliness, those plot lines are almost always contrasted with some element that is deeply disturbing or macabre, even if it’s something as simple as the environment. the war-torn countryside, a deeply unequal and bigoted city, etc. and that plays to a broader theme in the game, which is that monster hunting is generally very shitty and dangerous work that involves a lot of indignity and general absurdity. sometimes the most absurd element of a quest is having to deal with bureaucracy or customer service or the labyrinthine system of royal courts. Geralt, a world famous witcher and a dude who looks like Death Walking, has to sit in a waiting room for six hours to get papers signed, or grit his teeth and kiss the ass of some pompous baron until he gives up the information you need to complete a hunt. and sometimes the absurdity is in the quest itself, like having to calmly talk a troll out of beating a guy to death. it forces you to engage and empathise with Otherness, with the banal cruelty of large institutions, with the reality that selling your labour often comes at the price of your own humanity.

and i think this could easily be resolved in spn! even as something as simple as the brothers dealing with confusing and punishing bureaucratic systems in order to access case files, or having to sit around for very long periods of time while they’re waiting for a monster to show up and they’re bored out of their skulls. contrast the goofy elements of like, hunting a possessed clown doll or whatever with genuine moments of misery and banal tedium that saps you of your humanity. I think a key element missing in some of the later seasons is that it doesn’t feel grounded, there’s no human purchase to the story. they usually show us the brothers doing research to remind the audience that hunting is boring sometimes, but I feel like there are a million different and better ways to express how much of hunting IS boring, tedious, ignoble work that is punctuated by moments of intense violence and trauma. or even just like, the realities of living on the road. stopping between hunts to go to a laundromat, having to take public transit because the car broke down, stuff like that. I’m not saying they never do this, but it’s not a consistent tension in the story.

however, making that an ongoing background element also requires the brothers to be sometimes stripped of their dignity, or be at the mercy of some larger force they can’t escape, which doesn’t usually happen because they always end up saving the day and beating the bad guy. so despite spn being set in america during a time of historical economic strife, of massive upward transfers of wealth and power, that never really impacts the brothers in a negative way. they are so often above the indignity of an unequal human society (or human society period), and as a result the show feels very formulaic and ungrounded in reality. so the goofy or absurd episodes don’t land as well as they should, because it’s just two big heroes dealing with the murder of an imaginary friend, or whatever, instead of like. having to deal with something absurd that is difficult to wrap your head around while also standing in line at the DMV. you know what I mean?

#spn.txt #asks #no idea if this makes any sense sorry <3

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 3 years

Note

What's your take on house elves? Do you agree with some of the claims that they actually enjoy serving others?

No.

That excuse to me always sounds remarkably like claims humans have made in the past to justify the abuse of a disenfranchised subset of society (a minority, the impoverished, etc.)

I believe it’s something wizards say, well clearly because we see Ron insisting it in canon, but I certainly don’t believe it’s true.

I mean, we know it isn’t, we see relatively few house elves in the series but they all live miserable lives and half of those we see know it.

Dobby abhors being a house elf altogether and especially for the Malfoy family. His great dream is freedom and he makes it very clear to anyone who will give him half an ear (which is pretty much just Harry because Dobby’s a house elf and nobody pays them any mind).

While Kreacher reveres his family he’s an utterly miserable creature who hates first Sirius as his master and then Harry Potter. He would love not to be able to serve either of them and does all that he can to not serve them (well, until Harry fulfils Regulus’ final wish, then Harry’s a cool bro).

You then have Winky, who is used as a scape goat at the Quidditch World Cup, and Hezipibah’s house elf that Tom Riddle pinned the murder on. They’re not quite as... vocal about whether or not they’re enjoying their servitude as Dobby and Kreacher, but they’re not having a great time either.

The house elves do not enjoy their current status.

However, they’ve been conditioned into it over generations. Ask most house elves and they’ll say they love their family, enjoy being bound to them and serving their every whim, because this has been how their people have lived for generations.

And if someone like Dobby comes around and starts a revolt... I imagine it’s put down with extreme prejudice and spoken of only in haunted whispers to other house elves.

As for the wizards, some will admit some people should treat their house elves better, but they think it’s a fine system that benefits both the wizard and the house elf. Why should it ever have to change?

The house elves are slaves.

They’re bound to and forced to serve a family, even when it’s against their will, and are severely and brutally punished if they fail in their tasks. They live in miserable conditions and are stripped of any and all dignity (the fact that being given an article of clothing wins them their freedom says so much to me). And even should they be released from service they have no prospects or place in society, Dobby can’t get an actual job, the best he can do is go to Hogwarts and work in the kitchen... with the other house elves who are bound to the castle... And then Dumbledore gives him “pay” to help him pretend he’s a truly free being.

But of course, wizards appear to have either overwritten or forgotten how this came to pass. I imagine the wizards or perhaps druids waged a war against the elves and, in their victory, enslaved them so that they could never become enemies again. And now they simply have this story of how the elves came to them because they were subservient creatures by nature, they wanted to serve the wizards, it fulfilled a grand need on their own end.

And here we are now, a thousand years later.

Honestly, the house elves, I really don’t know what JKR was doing. She has Hermione have her “WAIT A MINUTE” moment in fourth year, which was very justified, but then it’s sort of dropped on the floor. SPEW is done, Hermione’s learned better, moving on. I get that JKR didn’t want the house elf plot to overtake her story, but... This can’t be ignored. This is really really really bad, and if you have ‘good’ characters like Ron justifying it, then it has to be addressed that there are some huge issues in the wizarding world even among our good characters.

Instead we just sort of go “Oh, Dobby’s an anomaly. NEXT SUBPLOT” I just think, if JKR was going to give us house elves, we should have spent substantially more time on them and made the abolition of house elves a major theme throughout the books.

Otherwise we have, well, half a book of SPEW and then nothing.

#ask #anon #harry potter

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fairy-serigala · 3 years

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Are you forgetting that gray stalked lucy, by trying to follow her home?. Then getting caught by natsu. Then he broke into her apartment and stripped nude. It really shows that men can't be seen as stalkers while women characters like juvia are easy targets because she is an important side character. I literally don't understand the logic?, they did the same thing but nobody cares because gray is the tall dark and handsome guy everybody gloats over.

Look, there are other blogs for this kind of discussion, and this isn't one of them. This is the only butt-hurt gr///uvian I'm responding to, because it's the first, but from here on out I'm going to be deleting any and all messages like this.

(This ended up being much longer than I was anticipating so here's a cut so you don't have to see it all. TW: Mentions and discussion of abuse, stalking, gaslighting, sexual harassment & assault, double standards & misogyny, abuse apologism, and a single mention of rape culture.)

Let's get this over with quickly-

Gray stalked Lucy by trying to follow her home - Gray followed Lucy home because she said she thought she was being followed. He followed her to make sure she got home safely. He said this, even when he was caught by Natsu and Happy.

He broke into her apartment - So did Natsu and Happy and Erza and many, many other characters. No, it's not right when Gray does it. But it's also not right when anyone else does it. Either punish all off them or none of them, you can't cherry pick Gray because you don't like him.

He stripped nude - Yep. You're right. Go get yourself a cookie.

My friend runs the blog @absolutezerotolerance and I've heard all about you, Anon. I get it, you don't like Gray, you think he's an awful person who deserves all the abuse he endured, but here's the thing because you refuse to listen.

Just because Gray has done some shitty things, does not mean he deserves to be stalked and abused.

If you think he does then I hope to GOD that we never meet because you are an abuse apologist and I do not need to know someone like you.

Men who stalk women should be held accountable for their actions, it is not acceptable. Women who stalk men should be held accountable for their actions, it is not acceptable. There should not be a double standard, but unfortunately there is, and it doesn't go the way you think it does.

We hear all too often about men and masc. folk who get abused and stalked and hurt and no one believes them, because men are meant to be strong and tough and hide their emotions. I've seen on this very website people who believe that men are incapable of being abused because of some made up genetic component.

Men and masc. folk need to be listened to. This is not something that can be brushed aside, it is key and it is crucial. The wellbeing of men and masc. folk cannot be ignored.

And this is what's happening here, with Gray and Juvia and Lucy. No, it's not okay when Gray does it to Lucy. But Gray has suffered more at the hands of Juvia. That's all.

Gray should be held accountable for his actions, but Juvia's actions are simply further reaching and far more detrimental. They are indicative of a problem that makes me so, so sad to see.

Juvia isn't an easy target because we're looking for someone to hate. That isn't how this works, Anon. We hate Juvia because she gave us a reason to. Because she stalked Gray multiple times, including across several countries to Isvan. Because she has emotionally manipulated and gaslit him multiple times both after Ultear sacrificed herself and saved Gray, and on top of Gray's parents' grave after his father died a second time. Because she has a history of sexually harassing him - including touching him without permission and refusing to let go, and asking him to spank her when they a) aren't a couple and b) he makes it clear that he isn't comfortable with that. Because she objectifies him to such an extent that everything in her room is Gray-themed in some way - from multiple stuffed plushes, to a bar of soap that she uses to wash herself with. Because she admitted to sexually assaulting him during the one year time skip. Because he does not consent to what she does to him and she doesn't listen. Because she drugged him in an attempt to make her love him - removing consent from the equation all together.

What Gray does to Lucy isn't okay. But Juvia has a much, much longer list of crimes. This isn't okay to ignore. Especially when it's romanticised to this degree.

Your reasoning for ignoring everything Gray has gone through is the exact same reasoning that abuse apologisers and devil's advocates use to ignore women when they report abuse against them. "They're too pretty" or "this person did [x] to [third party] so they deserved it". It's a couple steps to the left of rape culture. Going to absurd lengths to ignore and dismiss Juvia of all wrongdoing and instead putting all the blame on Gray.

When I, or my friends, talk about GrUvia, we don't have to talk about Lucy. If she isn't relevant to the discussion, we don't have to bring her up and say "oh but don't think Gray's perfect because xyz". It doesn't cripple our arguments and it doesn't suddenly make everything we say redundant.

There are parts of Juvia that need to be discussed critically because they're a microcosm of a much bigger issue with today's society and the way it responds to abuse, abuse victims and abuse survivors.

We need to be able to look at situations like GrUvia and recognise that they're dangerous. Otherwise, how are we meant to do that when it comes to the real world? How am I meant to trust that if someone comes to you, Anon, saying they've been abused that you'll believe and help them?

This isn't about who's done worse, this is about the victims of stalking and abuse.

Laser focusing on the perpetrators only makes it more likely for victims to fall through the cracks without justice. And some, like Gray, may end up giving into their abusers and that isn't okay on any level.

Suffering isn't a competition, Anon. Gray is able to do shitty things and still be a victim, his right to health and safety can't be taken away because he isn't flawless. No one is flawless, but everyone deserves to be safe. This is all about empathy and listening to victims and having the ability to realise when a piece of media is perpetuating an idea that hurts and kills real people.

#anonymous #fairy tail #fairy tail discourse #anti gruvia #anti juvia lockser #i will not be anti-gr///ay no matter how much anon wants me to be #you can hate him all you want #but you can't change my mind #and I will delete any and all future responses from you anon #you are not welcome here

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ggukkieland · 4 years

Text

📕CURRENT READS (2020 October)

🌹 Fics I’ve enjoyed reading this October, with some few unread ones (still have 4 to 5 days to finish!). Waah I have read a lot 😲 I can’t believe I’m almost complete with this list 🥳. Usually when I post and organize the list, half of it are still on #toread status. I thought of curating Halloween-themed fics 🎃 but I ended up reading any genre anyway😁.

Again, credit goes to these awesome writers! Sending them lots of love and virtual hugs 🥰🤗💜🥰🤗💜🥰🤗 .

✅ - done reading | S (smut) F (fluff) A (angst)

🥕[Ongoing Series - to check weekly]

Still reading the ongoing series from last month’s reading list, whenever there is an update 😊

I Feel You in my Heart by @purpletaecup - MYG | exes au, second chances, some chapters have smau elements | A, S, F (really good story development 😭)

[7/?] nearly 2 months after their divorce, yoongi and y/n wade through the aftermath of the fallout by themselves. yoongi is moving on with someone else while y/n finds herself stuck in waves of anxiety and depression. soon enough, they are brought together again by an unfortunate accident

If it Harms None, Do What You Will by purpletaecup - JJK | smau, comedy, supernatural au, fantasy au, witch!reader, demon!jungkook | F, S 🎃

[6/?] it’s the beginning of October and green witch y/n has been preparing for all of the spooky activities she needs to do for all hallow’s eve. one of her older friends gives her a ritual candle for protection. a couple of drops of blood and a wonky magic circle later, there is a high level demon sitting on the floor of her living room.

We Live with a Ghost by @smaubts - JJK | smau, comedy, ghost au, roommates au | F 🎃

[6/13] when jungkook convinces his roommate, y/n, that their house is haunted by an evil ghost, they decide their best option is to contact with it and make it leave but end up summoning an actual ghost by accident.

Swan Black by CharWrites [AO3] - JJK | fantasy, supernatural, enemies to lovers, dark fantasy, apocalypse, Fae!Jungkook, Fae!Yoongi, Fae!Taehyung, LOTR/Mortal Instruments/Labyrinth vibes | A, S (I love this! It’s like watching LOTR 😍) 🎃

[10/?] So's twin brother, Jimin, has been kissed by darkness: an evil that has spread across the land and has claimed many souls. They only have weeks until the darkness consumes him. Once consumed, he will be governed by the unsullied: a powerful race of Dark Fae that has overtaken the world.

So seeks out a rogue Fae Prince, Kook, who is her only hope, if she can survive his deadly charms and irresistible lure especially when he is much more interested in possessing her, mind body and soul.

Third Wheeling by @taetaewonderland - MYG | strangers to lovers au, ceo!yoongi | A, F, S 🥰

[1/?] Min Yoongi is a strict man. Time is money to the CEO of Kisung Connected. He isn’t interested in conventional things or wastes of time. He’s an asshole. But, you didn’t realize until it was too late. Until you met him at the club and it changed your life forever.

Bad Friends by @hollyxqx- MYG | friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, neighbor au, college au, fwb au | A, S, F (what a good angst 😥)

[1/3] hooking up with your childhood best friend was never your plan, but neither was falling in love with him either. he’s troubled but his heart is gold. when you move away for college, things start to take a turn.

House of Lilies by @suqakoo - JJK | mafia au, arranged marriage au | A, F, S

[3/?] Jeon Jungkook is the only heir to Dal Gurimja. He is the poster child for mafia bosses. He’s a feared hit-man among the underground world, and a successful CEO among the socialites of Seoul. Pair him with a castaway girl who’s been out of society for twelve years, and… what do you get?

Your Eyes Tell by @njkbangtan - JJK | soulmate au, enemies to lovers au, roommates au, sugar baby (but not really), slow burn | A, F

[5/?] You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It’s simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if…Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

I hate u, I love u by @bbangpanmen - JJK | fwb au, friends to lovers au, smau | A

[17/23] he uses you to forget her; you let him because you love him.

Puzzle by @kimvvantae - JJK | fwb au, friends to lovers au, college au | A, S, F (I’ve read this before, around 2018-19 and I thought it was discontinued. Glad there’s an update ^_^)

[7/?] the line between friendship and something more has never been crossed - but that changes after a break up and a drunken night, when you not-so-accidentally cross this line to something much more. what happens when after this accident your non-matching puzzle pieces seem to match in a way you’ve never imagined?

The Lesson/Min Boy by @adventuresinwonderlust - MYG | bad boy!yoongi, dom-sub elements, enemies to lovers, brat!reader | S, A, F

[6/8] No summary provided but it’s the twisted story between bad boy Yoongi with angsty backstory and this brat/rich kid. I really liked how it was written though. I made a mistake of reading part 4: Two Months Too Long, which should’ve been the 6th story to read if you follow the author’s sequence.

Popular-ish by @hansolmates - JJK | popular!jungkook, college au, fwb to lovers, shy!oc | F, S, A

[9/?] drabble series: you are way out of jungkook’s league. Or is it the other way around?

Date Me by @latetaektalk - JJK | enemies to lovers, fake dating au, rich kid au | A, F,

[prologue + 1/?] when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.

All Over You by @zibermuda - JJK | enemies to lovers, nerd!jk, fuckgirl!reader | S, F

[2/?] you don’t usually go for the quiet, nerdy type, but Jungkook’s by far the best looking guy in your year. You just can’t help yourself. You have to have him. Small hiccup; he hates you

Effortlessly by @gyukult - JJK | friends to lovers, neighbors au,

[8/?] “Reciprocate feelings?” Jungkook crosses his arms before he continues, “They should know that you’re the only girl in my life.“ Jungkook has been your best friend and neighbor since you could remember, but what you can’t recall is when your feelings began develop for him.

HEI$T: A JJK Fic by lucidly [AO3] - JJK | heist au, action, bangtan are thieves, vigilante au | A, S

[3/?] Six years after being thrown into the world of forgery, espionage, and heists, Mona and her team face competition like never before: The Bulletproof Boy Scouts, a fabled Korean gang of thieves that everybody seems to know, but no one has seen. When she comes face to face with all 7 of them, Mona knows: they're real, and this job won't be like the others. For years she has followed the money, but could it be time that she follow her heart instead?

🥕[Completed AUs/Series- to read]

✅ - done reading (also there seems to be a lot of JJK fics)

Creep @xjoonchildx - MYG | S, pwp, yandere ✅

Guilty @xjoonchildx - KNJ | A, S, mafia au, second part of Guarded AU (an awesome JHS series)

Chapter One: How Odd Chapter Two: Incheon Mall Tube Tops Final Chapter: Is Something Burning? Epilogue: Better Than Okay

Paddle with Me @yoongs-jeontae - JJK | A, S, enemies to lovers, camp counselor au, pwp ✅

Hate Me @themfchase - JJK | S, collegel!au, enemies to lovers au, fuckboy!jk, pwp ✅

Devil in a Blue Suit @yeojaa - JJK | F, S, idiots to lovers, established au, good boy!jungkook

main story ✅ + drabbles ✅

Sweetest Crush @minjoonalist - JHS | F, S, brother’s best friend au

Fake Love @aquaminwrites - JHS | F, S, A, fake dating au, enemies to lovers ✅

Faded Love @jamaisjoons - PJM | A, S, marriage au, infidelity ✅

Brown-Eyed Baby @vinterjeon - JJK | A, S, F, exes to lovers, single dad!jk

01 02 ✅

Why We Got Married @ktheist - KTH | F, S, arranged marriage au, slow burn ✅

Lonely Hearts Club @dovechim - JJK | S, F, enemies to lovers, wedding au ✅

Come to Me @jeonsweetpea - JJK | S, A, F ,friends to lovers, college au ✅

Satan on the Strip @noir0neko - JJK | S, A, demon!jungkook ✅ 🎃

No Face @seokoloqy - MYG | A, S, F, demon au, supernatural au ✅ 🎃

Take a Chance @crystaljins - JJK | A, Hanahaki au, co-workers, very angsty but Seokjin provides comic relief

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 ✅

The Lottery Offering @skswriting - JJK | A, F, S, werewolf au, sort-of arranged marriage au ✅

A Beautiful Epiphany @onherwings - JJK | A, S, F, friends to lovers, unrequited love, artist!jungkook ✅

Au Naturel (sequel) - drabble, established au ✅

Broken Dreams @ddaenysus - JJK | A, soulmate au, unrequited ✅

And Mended Hearts (sequel) - A, S, soulmate au, college au ✅

Coin Toss @yoondoze - JJK | A, mafia au, detective au, exes au, plot twist 👀 ✅

I Knew It Was You @hoseokmylovesworld - JJK | S, F, werewolf au, college au ✅ 🎃

Little Blue @pars-ley - JJK | F, S, friends to lovers, college au, with TW ✅

Little Blue Pill @dreamescapeswriting - JJK | S, pwp, friends to lovers ✅

Smitten @megahwn - JJK | F, S, arranged marriage au, strangers to lovers au ✅

Hit Me with Your Best Shot @namfine - JJK | S, pwp, martial arts, friends to lovers ✅

Slow and Steady @yoonia - JJK | S, A, artist!jungkook, infidelity, established au ✅

Cockblocked @mercurygguk - JJK | A, S, F, friends to lovers, roommates au ✅

everything I ever wanted (drabble) - morning after ✅

What are you Afraid Of? @cupofteaguk - JJK | F, avatar the last bender au

Part 2 (prompt: if you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed) - avatar au, F, S

demon-etized @jungkxook - KNJ | S, youtube au, ghost hunter au 🎃

Spellbound @jeonseok - JJK | F, slight S, demon au, crack, romcom ✅ 🎃

Raising Demons (sequel) - fluffy, smut, established au, crack ✅ 🎃

What’s in a Name? @minsimagines - JJK | A, F, demon au, soul selling scenario, romance

01 02 03 ✅ 🎃

The Big Yellow School Bus [15k] fringesofsanity [AO3] - JJK | S, A, F, noona, fwb au ✅

once bitten, twice shy [5.6k] obiwrites [AO3] - JJK | A, F, implied S, exes au, parents au ✅

Lose Somebody [26k] @kooala - JJK | A, F, slight S, exes au, camping au ✅

Oh What a World [100k] @taestybae - PJM | A, S, F, fake marriage au, fallen idol au (been wanting to read this since July (!), will finally get to reading this 🥰)

series masterlist [18 chapters + epilogue]

🥕[Drabbles]

okay I just realized they’re all JJK drabbles 😅

Incandesce @eunoiabliss - 544 words | JJK | fantasy au, fluff ✅

Forgetful Confession @suhdays - 991 words | JJK | fluff, slight angst, college au, friends to ??? ✅

Club @taleasnewastime - 2k | JJK | fluff, bestfriends ✅

JJK Reincarnation drabble @ktheist - 571 words | JJK | F, reincarnation (?) | love love this 🥰 ✅

Pup @whipped-for-kpop-fics - 1.5k | JJK | F, humour, werewolf au, established au | this is cute and funny 🤣 ✅

A Line Crossed @underthejoon - 723 words | JJK | A, bodyguard au ✅

Rousing Rendezvous @rookiegukie - 1.5k | JJK | smut, frenemies with benefits, modern royalty au ✅

565 notes · View notes

itsnothingofinterest · 3 years

Text

So with the end supposedly approaching (relatively speaking), people have started giving some thought as to who the final threat is really going to be; Tomura Shigaraki or All For One. It’ll definitely be one of them, they’re the strongest and most established villains by a mile; but both have their own reasons for people to think they’ll be the “final boss” of the series. And far be it from me to keep my opinion to myself; I really think it’s going to be Tomura.

I’m not sure if that’s some level of controversial among the fans hoping for Shigaraki’s redemption, as I do believe the alternative’s gotten a lot of traction lately. Because understand that I’m still expecting his redemption too, and don’t expect his hypothetical final boss status to really prevent that. (Practically nothing can, it’s as much a guaranteed outcome at this point as Deku getting his sixth bonus quirk.) Realistically, the only difference would be if he & Deku then team up to fight the evil potato head, or to...just start fixing stuff I guess.

On that note, the eventual redemption is actually one of the reasons I think he’s the better choice. Almost every point of comparison between the two villain I can think of makes Tomura seem like the better choice, actually...with maybe one or two exceptions. So I wanted to go over all those points of comparison & everything they’ve got going for them as endgame villains and why the comperrisons overall seem to favour Tomura as the final boss.

1. Someone who was defeated to the power of just one man

For one, just looking at pure power levels, AFO’s just not as threatening as Tomura; and there’s not really a way to bridge that gap.

Like, Tomura’s obviously more of a threat personally; he’s got the stronger body that was scientifically enhanced, and only he has Decay on top of the AFO quirk and the collection that came with it. It is just a fact that right now, Tomura is far more powerful. And before anyone thinks that AFO could become an equal threat by just taking over & fighting in his body; that’s not true because, along with just more combat experience that doesn’t rely on an arsenal of quirks, Tomura also has that Shimura trick where you remember your origin and become super bad ass. You know, the trick that All Might used to beat AFO in Kamino. In other words, the most dangerous individual in the series right now is the AFO!Tomura body with specifically Tomura in control.

And as long as the slight edge in mentality in Tomura’s favour exists, there’s not really a way to bridge that gap and have AFO take Tomura’s place as the biggest potential threat. Restore or enhance AFO’s original body? That’s just catching it up with AFO in Tomura’s body, which is still behind Tomura in Tomura’s body. Have AFO boost Tomura’s body with him in control? It would still be better with Tomura in control. There’s no scenario where Tomura isn’t the most powerful character in BNHA.

(Well, except maybe AFO weakening him by, say, stripping him of his quirks; but if he has to make things easier for the heroes to become the most powerful, I think that kind of proves my point anyway.)

But one person can only be so dangerous, so lets talk followers. Tomura has a close knit group of friends & allies on top of a vast army super loyal to him specifically that reaches a six digit figure, and AFO...just doesn’t. And I’ll get back to this later; but I don’t think he wants one either. He sticks to just a handful of people useful to him and what’s left of his Nomu. And while maybe that is the better way for him to accomplish his own personal goals, it’s simply not as threatening as the force which Hawks thought could’ve conquered the country if the heroes hadn’t struck first.

Tomura is a country ending threat, who in the right circumstances could fight literally all of the heroes with a chance of winning, and AFO simply isn’t.

2. His own little world

And to return to what I was talking about earlier, I’m not sure he really cares to be either. Like, people say he wants to conquer everything, and I imagine he’d think regaining lots of money & power would be great down the line; but evidence seems to suggest he doesn’t really care much for the country as a whole or any of the major themes being discussed by the actual main characters at the moment.

I mean if he did, he’d probably have rescued the PLF, that army capable of competing with all of hero society. And he probably wouldn’t have told ~10,000 dangerous and powerful villains indebted to him for their freedom to just run amok while he keeps contact with only the ones useful for his personal goals. And he definitively wouldn’t be laying low & sleeping through his enemies lowest moment & giving them a month to recover, also in service to those personal goals. That activity seems to imply those personal goals matter a whole lot more to him than societal conquest.

And what are those goals? Seemingly, taking over Tomura’s body so he can finally steal One For All. To what end, we’re not 100% sure of, but I believe it’s either a) a weird pride thing where he finally has control over his brother who’s rebelled against him for decades upon decades or b) an attempt at immortality as a sentient & transferable body-controlling quirk. Either way it’s some selfish personal thing he just gets others wrapped up in.

He’s incredibly disconnected from the greater themes and conflicts of the story. He seems to have no opinions on heroics besides how people are stupid for attempting them, and no opinion on society besides that it just naturally sucks. He’s mainly just a nuisance for the actual main characters. This self-important old man stuck in his own little world is supposed to be Deku’s final opponent?

Oh, and on that note-

3. Deku who?

We’re also talking about who’s going to be the final obstacle for Deku to face; and the problem with the being AFO is that...they don’t really have much to bounce off of with each other. You might be able to argue slight foil-ment, but they don’t really know each other, nor do they have any kind of connection to each other besides Deku having OFA so he’s AFO’s enemy by default.

(In fact their latest & 2nd convo, which came out as I was drafting this post out, kind of proves that with how AFO basically just shallowly made fun of him for trying to be a hero. That’s basically the extent of their antagonism.)

In fact, I’m like 80% sure this is a major reason for the Dad For One theory existing; just to give them some connection, something to talk about. Because otherwise AFO is just an evil guy known by people Deku knows/wants to save. He’s basically just another, more dangerous Overhaul; who Deku's already fought. And to AFO, Deku’s just another OFA holder acting all high & mighty; which we also already saw him face in the Kamino fight. So what little they do offer each other has already been done for both of them. And there’s nothing wrong with that for carrying a fight, I just wonder if that can really carry the final fight.

Compare that to Shigaraki, who foils Deku in ways so numerous & obvious it’s almost hard to talk about, such as: their position as successors, strategic thinkers, very similar origins, very similar core characters, team players, red shoes, they looked really similar as kids...just to name a few parallels. Contrasting AFO, there is a lot to work with here that would contributed to a good fight that’d double as a battle of ideologies. And admittedly, we know this because it already has, this is also something we’ve seen before; but there’s a lot more unexplored with their conflict, a lot left unsaid that we could see from them arguing their viewpoints. A lot more than from Deku & AFO anyway.

I mean for Pete’s sake; All Might & Shigaraki have more in common and more to talk about than Deku & AFO. That’s a major problem if those two are meant to carry the final battle; which is why I don’t think they are.

4. Just punch him

There’s also the fact that AFO doesn’t really challenge Deku in any real way; and I’m not just talking about how All Might solo-ing him (twice) should logically mean endgame Deku should also be able to solo him. I’m more talking about how...that’s kind of all he’d need to do. If you can just beat AFO up enough then...that’s it, threat over. Wrapped up in a neat little bow.

To compare, Shigaraki is the greatest threat the heroes have ever faced, the victim most in need of saving, and to top it off, he’s got the gall to be both of those things at once. What’s a hero supposed to do with that? That’s a serious question characters are going to have to think about when deciding how to deal with Shigaraki. His position is that of, not just the greatest challenge, but a set of the greatest challenges a hero could face. And that’s before you get into his side representing those oppressed by serious systemic issues that need to be addressed as well; quite possibly simultaneously.

No one needs to address systemic corruption or prejudice to beat AFO though. They just need to punch him real hard. The biggest challenge AFO presents the heroes is “how do we make sure this guy stops being a problem for good when neither our most secure prison, nor removing his head, did the job?”

(Personally, my answer is to have Tomura do it. Because unlike Deku, Tomura actually does have a proper antagonistic relationship with AFO, so he has reason to be the one to end him besides just being the protagonist. Plus he’s under no obligation not to kill, so there’s that.)

And like yeah, that does make AFO the easier guy to deal with, and thus write an ending around (to say nothing of how he's also the most satisfying person to see punched in the face); but does that really mean Horikoshi would want to use him instead of the more interesting option of Tomura? I mean I guess we can’t be sure, there is merit in writing the easy resolution; but I’d prefer the complex finale if I were in his shoes.

5. Horikoshi’s favourite

And lastly there’s just the issue of which of the two Horikoshi’s put more work into. Spoiler alert: it’s not the guy that spent like 200 chapters in jail being menacing every one in a while.

Tomura is by far the more developed between the two, having constantly evolved over the course of the series. And more than just as a character, as described above he’s been developed as the more threatening and challenging conflict for Deku while also reflecting him in a lot of important ways. We’ve seen the growth of his power & influence, we’ve gotten to know & understand his motives, we’ve seen how he’s been failed by heroes before. Everything about him has built him up as the ultimate villain, the most desperate victim, and overall greatest challenge for Deku and the story as a whole to face.

And AFO is...nearly one of those things. Which is pretty much what he was from his first appearance. He has not developed at all over the series, and from what we can tell from his flashbacks, he hasn’t developed at all over the past ~200 years either. (I’m half tempted to call him more inciting incident then character.) What we have with AFO, as far as a character and a villain goes, is pretty much what we’re getting until he’s done. And, well; if Tomura is a better villain & a better pick for final boss than he was then, that gap’s just going to keep growing.

Like, I doubt it really needs stating how Shigaraki is probably the character Horikoshi has put the most work into in the entire series. And a lot of that work, a lot of his development, has gone to the idea of him surpassing AFO or being a villain foil to Deku, who himself is mean to surpass All Might. For his roll to be usurped by the guy he’s meant to surpass just feels like it’s going against that. Like, it’d feel almost as wrong for his character and the story around him than it would for Deku is All Might got his powers back and took over for him as main protagonist. It just doesn’t feel right for Tomura not to be the final villain, is what I’m getting at.

6. ...One saving grace

Okay, but I will admit one thing AFO has going for him that I would be remiss not to bring up. Besides being the most hated character in a series that also has Endeavor in it, I mean. He’s got this one trait that makes him an effective antagonist to anyone in the series; his complete disregard to pretty much every major theme in the series.

I mean think about it; the major themes of Shigaraki’s circle all revolve around trying to fix the society that rejected them; but AFO believes Society just naturally sucks that way as part of human nature, so their cause is doomed. And the heroes’ major themes all revolve around how to become/what it means to be a hero; but AFO believes trying to do good in that society can’t really be done & also it’s ridiculous to believe comic books are real, so their cause is also doomed and they look stupid doing it. So despite not really interacting with anyone’s core conflict or goals in favour of wrapping them up in his own, he still manages a one-sided ideological opposition with nearly every major player in the series; and that’s not nothing.

But, and I completely understand that this is just a matter of opinion, that kind of just leaves him feeling to me like a good antagonist, not a good final antagonist. I’d still prefer it be Tomura even from this perspective, because he’s able to oppose the ideologies of his opponents on purpose & with proper ideologies of his own.

To summarize:

Shigaraki feels the better choice for final boss because he’s more threatening, more interesting, both as a person and as an opponent for Deku specifically, he’s far more directly tied into the themes of the story and their resolution, & he’s had far more set up. AFO is more hated, and his callous disregard for everything everyone else holds important is something I guess, but that’s pretty much all he’s got going for him in compression. I don’t know about you, but I know who I think would carry the conclusion to the series better.

But I also know this isn’t the most popular take among my villain fan colleagues right now. So if anyone disagrees, I welcome any civil discussion about these two & their viability as final boss.

#bnha #bnha manga spoilers #all for one #shigaraki tomura #midoriya izuku #league of villains #lov #paranormal liberation front #PLF #all might #my stupid long term predictions

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violet-knox · 4 years

Note

Hi! Could you write about Adult!Snape being jealous about Adult!Reader? Maybe it could include Lupin as well ?💓

Rags To Riches

Pairing: Snape x Potioneer!Reader

Summary: Severus makes his way to the annual award ceremony held by the Society of Portioneers and is once again disappointed with the speeches. Storming out of the venue, he makes his way to the bar where he’s approached by a familiar face.

Warnings: A bit of hate towards werewolves (from Severus)

Word Count: 9708

A/N: To be honest anon, I wasn’t entirely sure what you meant by “being jealous about”. I took it as Severus being jealous of reader, I hope that’s alright. If that wasn’t what you were asking for, I’m sorry, I hope you can enjoy it either way. This story started off with one idea which morphed into something completely different. I truly meant to include Lupin but instead of a feature, he gets more of a mention in this piece. I hope the general theme of the ask still stuck though. It was a lot of fun to write, I really enjoyed coming up with a different scenery outside Hogwarts. I actually enjoyed it so much that I may in the future do a part 2 but who knows. I have so much on my plate, if I do write a part 2, it probably won’t be anytime soon 😅

Clutching the invitation in his hand, he looked down at the address written in bright cursive gold then back up at the building before him. The outside of the building was built with pristine white bricks, the windows lined in the same shade of gold that lay on the invitation. He no doubt expected the inside to be just as pretentious, well suited for the event he was to attend tonight which was one of the many reasons why he never went. Taking a step closer, he slowly inched his way to the door where a doorman awaited, checking the invitations of every guest with a wave of his wand. He wasn’t as nearly accomplished as those who’d come to the Society of Potioneers’ Annual Award Ceremony, and even now, dressed in his best attire, he felt like a fraud, like the ugly duckling walking into the pond with his painted feathers looking to join his family.

Handing the man his invitation, he watched as he wove his wand over it, a puff of silver smoke steaming off the parchment, spelling out his name right before his eyes. It was always about the looks, the way the society was perceived to others that mattered. Even after all his hard work, everything he’d done to join and be accepted into the community, he kept hoping something good would come of it, that he’d one day be appreciated for all his potion alteration, perhaps even be granted the privilege of establishing a communal wide potion’s standards for all Wizarding schools. But those dreams of a hopeful boy had died long ago, and he’d naturally distanced himself from the society, watching from afar as those he’d established friendships with climbed above him with no interest in helping him push his career forward.

“Down the hall to your left, you’ll find the venue, to your right will be the bar and at the end there is the registry office if you shall need anything this evening. Enjoy the ceremony sir,” said the man as he handed Severus back his invitation, now turned into a ceremony program. Opening it, he saw the first few words bolding, almost screaming at him to make his way to the venue to find a seat and await the opening remarks. Fifteen minutes of opening remarks, then an hour and a half of speaking of the organization's foundation followed by forty-five minutes of introductions and then another three hours of torment and agony until the part of the event he’d shown up for.

There it was, the name of the potioneer he’d admired for a few years now: (Y/N) (Y/L/N). He’d read all your books, owned several copies, even taught from them and assigned them as extra reading material for those in his classes who had a knack for the art of potion making. Your ideology was quite phenomenal, your process much more advanced than those of the peers you sat alongside now. Of course, it wasn’t without its faults, after all, no one was perfect and if he’d ever gotten the chance, he would simply adore sitting with you to discuss improvements on some of the more extravagant potions you’d written about. But who was he to have such a privilege; a nobody Potion’s Master, forever doomed to teach the pinheads of Hogwarts.

Looking down at the pamphlet in his hand, he watched the timer in the corner slowly decrease, nine miserable minutes until the socializing was over, and until then, he’d do his best to avoid the few familiar faces he knew wouldn’t care to speak with him. He made his way to the end of the last row and took a seat, placing the program on his lap with his eyes on the timer, wondering if it was only counting down as slowly as it was because it could sense his pain and anticipation. It was this moment, the loneliness he felt as his eyes scanned the room that he began to regret showing up at all, knowing he wasn’t exactly a connection many wanted to make especially considering his status as an ex-Death Eater with rumours of the Dark Lord’s return swarming through the Wizarding World.

Five minutes remaining. He sighed the nail of his thumb scratched at the fabric of his cuff. Never did he ever imagine himself wearing this suit when Lucius had gifted it to him as a way to celebrate his position at Dumbledore’s side all those years ago. It was tighter than he’d remembered, thicker and heavier, but just as uncomfortable. It didn’t feel right the first time he’d put it on, and it didn’t feel any better now, even after the alterations he’d made to lessen the glamour smudged all over it. It was Lucius’ style, very much his style with bright lining along the robes, a silver touch on the suit itself, the ascot it came with just as dashing, but it wasn’t something Severus could ever wear. He’d spent so much of his life wearing nothing but second-hand clothing, worn out shirts, trousers he’d grown out of years ago, he wasn’t worthy to wear items so luxurious, even if the event called for it.

“Attention everyone, if you would all find your seats.” Severus straightened his back as he looked up to the stage to find his old Potion’s Professor addressing the room with that same cunning smile he’d always worn when he was a student. Others around him all shuffled around, Slughorn happily standing there waiting for the commotion to settle. The man had looked better, Severus never imagining him letting himself go as much as he did with how important appealing to others had been for him. He, of course, wasn’t surprised to find him hosting an event such as this, someone who’d made nothing of his own potion’s career, still striving to be recognized in the world would end up as the host of a prestigious event. He could only hope that wasn’t his future standing on stage as the man’s successor as Hogwarts Potions Master.

Slughorn began the event with his head held high, Severus pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes glued shut as the headache that always came with Slughorn’s lectures settled in. He wondered if half these people were past students of Slughorn’s as he was, if they’d even allow this man to talk as much as he was now. He’d never met a single person who’d enjoyed one of his classes, not even those who were a part of his idiotic club.

Time could not have passed any slower as one by one people he’d never met or heard of spoke on stage, clapping and laughter occasionally filling the room as he simply sat there with his thumb under his chin and two fingers pressed against his temple, looking like he had a wand to his head. His eyes focussed more on the program before him, waiting one by one as items disappeared until finally the time came for your presentation and award acceptance.

“Now, for the moment many of you have surely been waiting for; awarding Potioneer of the Year. Wizards and Witches, the publisher of the improved Wolfsbane’s potion, Professor (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” The room roared with applause, Severus clapping alongside them for the first time tonight as his eyes searched for you. Severus pushed himself forward, straightened as much as he could as he watched you walk on stage. You looked so strong, your attire casual yet stunning. He felt his heartbeat rage against his chest as his eyes widened. You were much more attractive in person, much more enticing than he’d ever imagined you’d be. He felt like an insect standing before a God, sitting so close to you he could read the expression on your face, yet he felt like you were from completely different worlds.

“Thank you, it’s an honour and a privilege to accept this award on behalf of those with whom I worked alongside these past few years.” You went on to thank your entire staff list one by one, many around him displaying their distaste for the long list, but he admired you for it all the more. “It’s troubling times like these that we must remember to make alliances of those around us, to help those who suffer from lycanthropy and do what we can to help them during the full moon. It is a great pleasure to see you all come here today to take part in the next steps of a brighter future. I hope with all the brilliant minds in this room that one day we may cure those who are being stripped of their rights as Wizards and Witches.”

Severus had to admit that he was never one to care for such topics, his own experience with werewolves rather scaring his ability to sympathize. Lupin was such a careless beast, putting his need of acceptance above the safety of those around him. He’d tried so hard to put the past behind him, to give Lupin the benefit of the doubt when he took the position Severus was rightfully owed. But once again, he’d proven himself unable to put others before himself even with his help. All those countless hours brewing that horrendous potion wasted only for him to end up exactly where he’d found himself all those years ago: at the mercy of the beast.

Your presentation however was rather enticing, the delicacy of detail you’d put in your research of some of the rarest ingredients he’d ever heard, the intricate way you’d calculated your measurements. But most of all, he was absolutely in love with your experimentation process and only wished he had the privilege to merely exist in the same space to watch you perform each trial, to hear you speak of your observations and conclusions, the way each failure helped you learn for the next until you finally found the correct footing. He was absolutely astounded by your work, unable to help himself from scribbling down as many notes as he could on the notebook he’d brought, completely ignoring the underappreciation in the room as the others simply waited for your presentation to end. Fools, all of them. They were absolute fools to take your genius mind for granted.

“That concludes my findings. Now, no doubt many of you have questions, but before we move onto the brief Q&A portion, I’d like to take this moment to thank someone very special, someone who’s own experiences inspired me to pursue the remaking of the wolfsbane potion: Remus Lupin.” Severus’ eyes shot up from his notebook, his quill leaving a rather visible line through his notes as his hand slipped from the name he heard spoken out of your mouth. He watched as you smiled and gestured to a man sitting in the front row beside the empty seat you’d risen from to give the presentation he’d just spent an hour hanging on every word for. Applause slowly turned to ringing as he was deafened by the thought of you working with Lupin.

He looked down at his notebook, his endless sea of questions as rage and hatred filled his mind. This weekend was supposed to be about him, about his interests, his hopes to rejoin civilization through the Society of Potioneers, to possibly, very possibly exchange two words with you and that mut had spent years speaking with you? Working alongside you? It was bad enough Dumbledore had hired the man after everything that had happened, after knowing the trauma he’d been through as a child, but this was an entirely different type of mockery. Merlin was testing him, pushing him to insanity, punishing him for his past choices, it was the only explanation.

Closing his notebook rather harshly, he swiftly jumped to his feet and made his way out of the room, suddenly aware of the lack of oxygen a packed room like this offered. He let the doors close silently behind him as he stopped to lean back on the wall, trying to take in a deep breath. He closed his eyes and let his hair fall over his face, the memories of the Whomping Willow flooding back to him all at once. He could feel his muscles tensing as he froze in a state of shock and panic, both times he’d felt helpless and both times he’d failed to defend against the beast.

“Sir, are you alright?” Slowly, he opened his eyes to see one of the staff members of the hotel staring at him with concern.

“I’m fine,” Severus said coldly as he pushed himself passed the man and walked straight to the other side where he’d been told the bar was located. Bursting through the doors, he stopped to find himself in the most luxurious bar he’d ever seen. The space was quite generous, twice as large as the venue hosting the Award Ceremony. Bottles upon bottles lay displayed behind the bar that seemed to stretch out forever, glasses all hanging above as crystal clear as the air itself. Walking up to the bar, he hesitated to take a seat, the chairs alone likely worth more than his annual salary. Placing his book on the counter, he sat on the edge of his chair and ordered a firewhiskey. Double.

“Two Galleons,” said the bartender as he slid the drink over to Severus with a coaster beneath it. Severus stared at the bartender like he’d just spoken a language he was unfamiliar with. It was no wonder Dumbledore said he’d only pay for his stay at the Leaky Cauldron, but at least the Headmaster had given him some spending money so it was his Sickle he was wasting and not his own. Handing over his coins, he picked up the drink and slowly began to swirl its contents around the thick glass. He took a small sip and winced at the strength of the liquid, the burning sensation it left in his mouth as it trailed down his throat and into his stomach. The aftertaste was quite strong, rather pleasant and he could see why it cost as much as it did.

Placing the glass back on the coaster, he stared at the menacing notebook before him. He’d nearly filled up half of it with notes on your books, each word written with the hopes that you’d one day read them, each sentence written with the image of you in his mind. His fingertips grazed the cover of the notebook, almost afraid to touch it after the discovery he’d made this evening. But slowly, ever so slowly, the notebook was brought closer and closer to him, dragged along the marble countertop until it stood there before him, taunting him with thoughts of potential and revelation. He dreadfully opened up the notebook and slowly began to flip through its pages, finding it rather comforting to read through the notes he made when reading your books, until he finally found himself turning to the fresh notes he’d taken not moments ago.

His admiration slowly turned toxic as a familiar emotion took root in his core. He hated that you were better than him, more successful than him. He absolutely resented the fact you’d lifted up someone who didn’t deserve it. He would have made a much better coworker, he would have offered insight Lupin could never dream of having, the beast who’d taken so much from him already had to come after the one thing Severus had always excelled at, just like those who’d used him during his days as a student.

“My my, and here I was worried you’d left because you found my presentation boring.” Severus’ head spun around to the side to find you standing before him, smiling down at his notebook. With a hasty hand, he slammed the book shut for the second time that day, staring back at you with wide eyes.

“May I?” You’d gestured at the seat next to him, but he couldn’t find his voice to speak or even nod his head. He was utterly stunned, much like during his interaction with the beast, your friend, your coworker, the parasite in your life. He was angry at you, a complete stranger, his rage misguided, yet he couldn’t help but feel some sort of animosity towards you. He deserved better than the life he’d gotten, better than the forgotten Potion’s Master who was of no use to anyone but the school’s matron and the few students who possessed enough talent to pursue the career he should have had, the career you now possessed. His malice towards you grew as he thought of the respect you had, the respect he’d chased for so long, exchanged his soul for and all you’d done to earn it was write a few books and work with a monster.

“Dragon Barrel Brandy please. And a refill for this gentleman,” you said to the bartender, gesturing to the nearly empty glass sitting beside the notebook you’d give anything to take another peek inside.

You’d never felt so stunned before, so taken back by the sudden exit of one of your audience members during your Q&A. The man had walked so graciously out those doors, like he was part of the shadows that engulfed him as his hair swished behind him, his robes flowing, extenuating his slim yet luscious figure. You’d been so distracted, you had to ask the woman to repeat her question, you yourself barely able to give a feasible answer as your mind swarmed with questions about the man who’d just walked out of those doors. Had you done something wrong? Said something to offend him? Was he called away or did he simply find your presentation uninspired? Whatever the reason, you found yourself unable to sit in that room any longer, needing to excuse yourself and hope the man was still around and willing to chat. Well, at least he was indeed still around, and you were sure with a bit of light conversation and a few more drinks, he’d be willing to chat considering the extensive and thought out notes he’d taken.

“May I ask your name?” you inquired as you sat back in your chair, head tilted as you examined his posture. He wasn’t anything like the people you’d met at these sorts of events, in fact, you were sure you’d never seen him before. You would have easily remembered such a mysterious man, dressed in a rather interesting attire. The robes he wore looked vintage, something one of those snobby rich young graduates looking for easy connections to make would wear, but he looked nothing of the sort. He sat here alone, he sat in the venue in the back corner alone. He had yet to speak to you, his eyes focussed on the notebook in front of him, dismissing the rest of the world. He was a complete mystery, one you very much wanted to solve.

Severus could feel your eyes on him, your eyes, staring at him, waiting for him to introduce himself. His mind had gone completely blank, overwhelmed with annoyance and admiration, jealousy and wonder. Clearing his throat, he mumbled his name through gritted teeth, his voice a tone deeper than usual. “Severus Snape.”

“Really?” Your shock escaped you before you could formulate a single thought. It was rather odd you’d found the Severus Snape at an event like this, let alone taking notes on your presentation, talking to you now.

“You’ve heard of me?” he asked, rather taken back himself, his head spinning to look at you, his eyes wide with amazement. No one had ever recognized his name outside the walls of the school, not even the Dark Lord’s followers who heard whispers of the Death Eater who’d come to their master with the forsaken prophecy. He wasn’t sure how to react to your recognition of him beyond pure curiosity and could only imagine what dark rumours had passed within the pretentious group of potioneers.

“Hogwarts youngest Potion’s Master, how could I have not. In fact, I’ve even worked with some of your past students. You must be remarkably talented to be hired so young, to have left such an impressive mark on your students,” you said with what he assumed was excitement in your voice. Or perhaps he’d mistaken it for sarcasm, something he found rather common amongst those you hung around with. But your emotions were true, your eyes filled with the same wonder he’d held for you all those years. “Remus tells me he worked at Hogwarts for a short while before someone let slip his condition.”

And back you went to mentioning the name of the beast, the very thing that had driven him away from you. He whipped his gaze back to the bar, to the book in front of him as he reached to take a sip of his drink, cringing at your words. He could hardly believe his luck, his foolishness for believing there was a chance he’d have a peaceful, well deserved weekend off, away from his past, his future, the dreadful truth of his present.

“He let it slip himself when he neglected to fulfill the simple task of drinking the potion I spent hours brewing,” he mumbled under his breath, the little respect he still had for you keeping him from losing it completely.

“And that warrants him to lose his job?” You tried to hold yourself back as his insinuations boiled your blood. It was assumption like that, negative attitudes like his that you’d dedicated your career to fighting against. You were saddened to hear the resentful tone he took when speaking of Remus, rather hoping this conversation could turn into an opportunity to work with him.

“If it endangers the students, yes,” he said bluntly, looking back at you with cold eyes before he took another sip of his drink. Your expression hardened, a frown appearing on your lips as you thought of all the hardships Remus had gone through, how he spoke so highly of Hogwarts Headmaster, someone you thought picked his staff well, though clearly his judgment fell short on some people.

“We’ve all made mistakes. One incident shouldn’t define a person like that,” you tried to argue, doing your best to make your opinion clear in the hopes he’d indulge you in a civil discussion on the topic. Many thought potions was your weapon of choice when it came to the rights of those cursed with lycanthropy, but you found words were much more effective. Words and discussion had created enough allies for you to come as far as you did in just a few short years and you hoped they wouldn’t fail you now, craving to work with Severus.

“It wasn’t just one incident. Remus has a rather nasty habit of turning the other way on his responsibilities. He never should have been hired in the first place.” Severus mumbled the last sentence, looking away as he took another sip of his drink, finding comfort in the harsh taste that trickled down his throat against the bitter words he spoke to the one person these past few years he’d looked up to, found comfort in. Never meet your heroes; a saying he’d never known to be more true than this moment.

“That’s a rather harsh judgment to make for the short period of time you worked with him.” You did your best to keep your tone neutral, to encourage him to speak his mind and converse with you. The worst type of people you’d ever spoke to were those whose heads were so thick, your words bounced right off of them. It seemed, however, that despite your attempt to keep things civil, you’d struck a nerve with the comment you made, the nasty look he gave you now indicating perhaps you were wrong to make the assumption he’d met Remus during his time as a professor. You watched him chug the remainder of his drink and worried that he’d do something regretful tonight realizing you had no idea how much he’d had to drink before you showed up.

“You wouldn’t understand. No one ever does,” he mumbled, setting down his glass on the coaster and pushing it away slowly. Two drinks was quite enough, especially if he wanted to remain sober enough to apparate back to the Leaky Cauldron tonight.

“Try me,” you said softly, catching his eye once more as you saw his harsh exterior begin to melt away. Severus looked at you in shock, rather surprised you hadn’t already thrown your barely touched drink in his face and stormed off from what he’d already said, let alone encouraging him to keep going. He squinted as he looked into your eyes, trying to figure you out, find any sense of logic in the sea of mixed emotions he felt towards you. You seemed rather genuine, and that was a trait he’d admired in your writing, but oh how blind you were, how you seemed to negate any possibility that he was right.

“Remus and I went to school together as students,” Severus began, deciding to take a leap of faith, indulging you in your interest to converse with him. “He was a prefect who neglected his duties at the amusement of his friends. Friends who thought luring a student to meet his... other half was worth a laugh.”

Severus had never spoken about the day he found out about Lupin’s secret before, Dumbledore’s word always haunting him, telling him to keep it to himself. But he had to admit, it felt good to let out his vexation, even if he wasn’t being completely honest. He wondered however, what you would think of Lupin had you been enrolled in Hogwarts with him, had you been in his place that night, near the brink of death, all for a joke. Would you despise Lupin as he did? Or would you continue to defend him?

In truth, he didn’t blame Lupin for that night. No, the blame fell upon those he called ‘friends’, those he’d trusted with his secret only to turn around and use his affliction to their advantage. Lupin’s fault was his own unwillingness to punish them for their actions, to let them parlance around the school like they owned it. It was his fault it had gone as far as it did, his fault for continuing to defend them afterwards without consideration for what may have happened that night.

Looking at you now, the blank expression you wore, he wasn’t sure how you’d react. It wasn’t often people could elude their emotions from him, but you were different, he could tell you were conflicted in thought. You’d fallen completely silent, something that had never happened before as you got the hint he was that student in his story, which would have meant Severus likely almost lost his life at Remus’ hand twice in his life. It was hard for you not to be biased. You’d known Lupin for years now and could hardly imagine him turning a blind eye to something like that, but you also had to admit, it wasn’t fair to Severus to be put in such a situation either.

“Listen, Severus, I understand how traumatizing an experience like that could be, but that’s all the more reason we must find a way to help the Wizards and Witches who’ve been cursed with such a horrible infliction,” you said sympathetically, your defensiveness melted away, replaced with a soft understanding tone. You respected his experience, his trauma, even if no one else understood, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t recover from that time, that Remus had to remain the villain in his eyes.

“Come with me, and perhaps we can clear this up with Remus,” you said, gesturing back to the venue, offering to moderate their reunion and help him confront his past. You wanted to help him heal, to help him see the other side of Remus, but it was clear he wasn’t ready to take such a step, rejecting your offer almost as quickly as you’d given it.

“No!” His words nearly jumping down your throat as he spoke, his eyes widened with a sudden burst of fear. He looked at you in a panic and saw the surprise you wore on your face, feeling guilty for rejecting so hastily. “I do not wish to speak with him.”

Your mouth gaped open, words lost on you as you saw the sadness in his eyes, the resentment and hatred he held. He’d been holding back all this time, trying to hide his pain, something you could tell he was rather used to. Your eyes scanned him as he hung his head low, analysing him, the sadness he carried over his shoulders. The evening hadn’t gone as he’d hoped, he was disappointed in the Award Ceremony and you’d misjudged the reason for his previous display of rebellion. “Is he the reason why you ran out on my presentation?”

Severus said nothing, staring at his empty glass as he brought his notebook closer to the edge of the counter, shielded by his arms placed on either side. He wanted so badly to go back to that moment where he was unaware of Lupin’s presence, his tainted hand in your research and simply enjoy your presentation. He hadn’t felt that sense of peace listening to you speak in such a long while, every horrendous thing in his life forgotten. He was a fourteen-year-old boy again, avidly taking notes in class on a subject he loved, a subject he excelled at. It was a feeling he missed, a feeling he was sure he’d never get the privilege of experiencing again.

“Your presentation was not what I walked away from,” he stated plainly, ending the conversation with his stiff, conclusive tone. You looked away out of respect for his choice. You hadn’t come here to defend the actions of a teenager, you’d accepted that award tonight in exchange for the opportunity to present your ideas and findings to a group of experts in your field in the hopes you’d inspire at least one of them to join your mission and you weren’t about to give up on that. Severus was a rather enticing person, carrying a fresh perspective that you could use. It also helped that you felt quite intrigued by him, wanting to know him better.

“I see. Well, perhaps we could discuss your thoughts on my presentation instead then,” you said, a smile pulling on your lips as you gestured towards the notebook he so carefully protected. You’d give anything to read it, get inside the mind of Severus Snape. “Over dinner? If you’d like.”

Severus froze, wondering if he’d heard you right. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to look back at you, tilting his head in wonder of the inviting look you gave him, the soft smile that hoped for a ‘yes’, the eyes that wanted to continue your conversation. He’d never seen anyone look at him with such interest before, let alone someone he himself admired. “You’d like to have dinner? With me?”

“If you’ll allow it,” you mused, your thoughts lost in your inability to accept anything but a yes to your invitation.

“What about them,” Severus gestured to the venue, rather confused as to your intentions. He wasn’t as well connected as everyone else in that room, he didn’t have the resources or money to offer you aid in your research. You had nothing to gain from dinner with him, an evening with him alone certainly not worth his scribbles. “What about Lupin?”

“I think you and I could have much more interesting conversations.” You could almost laugh at the insinuating that you were attached to the hip with Remus. He was your friend, a coworker and nothing more, surely Severus could see that. No, with him, it was much more than about making a friend or conversing about progressing your research. You felt drawn to Severus, your own presence clearly affecting him just the same, else he likely would have shunned you as he did the rest of Lupin’s friends, as he intended to do when he walked out on your presentation.

Severus narrowed his eyes at you, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. Was he meant to enjoy the privilege of your company after all? Had there been a reason for him feeling drawn to you, to your books all those years ago beyond curiosity? He couldn’t tell whether your invitation was strictly professional or if you’d hoped to gain a personal favour as well. But he had to admit, he was rather intrigued. No longer did he feel irritated with your social connections, nor did he praise you for your accomplishment. He saw something else, something new behind those eyes of yours; a spark of lust, a flame of passion, an interest he’d never seen anyone take with him before.

“What do you say?” you asked softly as you stood from your seat and took a step towards him. You smiled and offered him your hand, feeling rather confident he’d take it. You barely knew the man, but from what you’ve seen, what you’ve heard about him, he wasn’t one to hesitate, especially with those he loathed. In fact, you could tell from the moment you sat next to him he was just as intrigued as you were, that he held something more than admiration for you otherwise he would have made a scene and left when you brought up Remus.

He looked down at your hand and straightened his back, his grip on his notebook tightening as he hesitantly stood from his own seat and reached out to meet his coarse palm with yours. Your smile grew as you clasped your hand shut, leading him out the door without a moment to waste. You sped up your pace as you passed the venue, chatter to be heard on the other side of the door and took a sharp turn down the corridor towards the registry office of the building. The last thing you needed was for one of those vultures to find you and snatch you away from a peaceful dinner.

“Where are we going?” Severus’ commanded your attention as you continued walking down the hall, holding him tightly as he walked beside you, feeling rather awkward at the situation he’d found himself agreeing to. He could feel his heart beating faster, his hand ever so slightly trying to release itself from your grip, yet a small part of him hoped Lupin would walk out those doors behind him and see you with him.

“My room,” you said casually. Severus’ eyes widened, his confusion amplified as you stopped and took out your wand, waving it before a blank wall. An elevator appeared before you, its doors opening before you dragged him inside.

“What? But I thought-”

“Relax,” you cut him off, rather amused at how suggestive your comment had come out, how he shivered at the thought this was more than a dinner between two strangers, though you hoped after tonight, that title would be swapped out for something much warmer. “It’s not like that. You’ll see when we get there.”

Severus stayed quite as you let go of his hand, your warmth already seeping away as the cold returned to his palm. He looked down at his hand, pressing his thumb to his palm as he held it like he’d just been released of the most agonising shackles. It felt oddly empty, like they were forever meant to stay locked with yours, only to wither in pain when they weren’t. Looking down at your hand, he saw you ever so slightly rubbing your own fingers against your palm as you held a loose fist, your eyes fixed on the passing increasing number above the elevator until finally movement ceased and the doors swung open.

You nearly leapt out of the elevator, leaving Severus behind as excitement took you over. You couldn’t remember the last time you sat down with someone to have a simple chat, to socialise and enjoy life. These past few months had especially been quite the burden as the Society’s pressure in your presentation and award acceptance weighed you down. You had to submit in the end of course, only agreeing to attend their pompous event for the opportunity to pick the brains of those who would attend, but when you were up there, you could tell none of them truly cared for your research. None of them had any interest in the progression of Potions, the amount of potential it carried. They were simply there as investors, which of course came in handy, especially when you wished to hire as much talent as you could, but that wasn’t what you needed now, not after all those long hours working day after day, month after month. You needed a breath of fresh air, and for you, that was Severus.

Finally, you reached your destination, and with a wave of your wand, the door clicked open, Severus watching you step inside before following. He was astounded by what he saw as you closed the door behind him, like a two-story suite had been crammed into your hotel room. The windows stood tall, like the ones at Hogwarts, sunshine flooding in to illuminate everything in sight. A reasonably sized round glass table stood on the other side of the room beside the staircase, two doors standing behind it. Before him sat a large sectional couch, facing the fireplace and a rectangular shaped coffee table.

You walked around Severus as he admired the luxury you were lucky enough to bargain for when agreeing to attend the event tonight. You had no issue taking advantage of the privileges you’d been granted, knowing how much your attendance meant to them and their social standing to the rest of the Wizarding Community. You sighed in glee as you finally felt like you could relax, removing your outer robes and any unnecessary trinkets you’d put on for the sake of appearance.

“I hope you don’t mind,” you said as you removed your watch, placing it on the coffee table and grabbing the menu. Severus watched you as you walked over to the dining table, looking back to see him slowly removing his own outer robes, revealing the black vest and white button up he wore beneath it. “I’m more of a casual wearer myself.”

Severus nodded at your remark, feeling rather relieved he could finally let go of the pompous attire he wore, removing the cufflinks that had been bothering him all day. He rolled up his sleeves as he took a seat across from you, placing the cufflinks on the glass table.

“Order anything you like and make it for two,” you told him as you handed him the menu, eyeing the cufflinks he’d placed in front of him. He arched a brow at you as he stared at the prices on the menu, wondering if you were insinuating you’d pay for him as if he couldn’t afford it himself.

“The Society is paying for it,” you explained, leaning forward. Severus nodded in understanding, unsure of what to say. He could hardly believe he was sitting here in front of you, about to have dinner in the complete privacy of such a luxurious suite. He felt butterflies in his stomach as your words of being a casual wearer rung in his ears. Was this meant to be taken as a casual dinner then?

“How do I order?” he asked, never having the opportunity to stay at a hotel like this.

“Ah, just tap the tip of your wand over the name of the dish you’d like,” you explained, pressing your lips together in wonder. As he ordered, you picked up one of the cufflinks before him, the metal scratching against the glass of the tabletop. You were itching to figure out why a man who so obviously did not live in a life of luxury wore such glamorous clothing, attended an event where he didn’t fit in.

“You don’t strike me as a man who’d wear bold emerald cufflinks,” you said as you examined the cufflink, Severus placing the menu down as he watched you. Your eyes met and you immediately paused, his threatening glare rather terrifying. Placing the cufflink back, you retreated your hands to your side of the table and sat back in your chair. “Sorry. I was just wondering why you’ve come to an event you’re not comfortable with.”

“I didn’t know Lupin would be here,” he said as if it wasn’t obvious enough already.

“That’s not what I meant.” You shifted in your seat, not wanting to ruin the evening with a topic you knew he likely wouldn’t want to discuss. Your curiosity however overtook your better judgment, treading carefully in search of an opportunity to get to know him. “It’s just- you and I, we’re not like them, and you, your scene clearly doesn’t include high class hotels and 500 Galleon suits.”

Severus narrowed his eyes at you, placing his elbows on the armrest of the chair as he folded his hands in front of his lips. He leaned back in his chair, studying you like he did back at the bar, wondering what you were thinking. There was no denying the fact he wanted to make a good impression on you. For so long he’d yearned to be where you were, to be recognized as you had been and gaining your respect would mean everything to him.

“And why not?” he asked plainly, looking to find even a sliver of your perspective of him, to know what it was you were seeking from him and what you considered acceptable.

“You paid attention during my presentation, you weren’t just there to see me accept an award. More than that, you took notes, you have a clear interest in the subject of Potions rather than the status a Potioneer might have. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met,” you said with absolute sincerity, smiling softly as you encouraged him to open up if only enough to show you who he truly was. You were so tired of the fakery, the networking efforts made by those who showed up today, so imagine your surprise to find someone as pure as him, someone you could have a real conversation with.

“I simply appreciate true talent and the pristine amount of detail put into researching the progression of Potions,” he stated without so much as wavering in his tone. You were inclined to believe him of course, but you still couldn’t help but ponder over the possibility there was more to him than admiration for your work. At least you’d managed to get some form of truth out of him as he seemed to relax a bit.

“You flatter me.” Your smile grew mischievously, like you’d just captured a secret message hidden beneath his words only meant for you to keep as your own. “Can I assume you attended tonight for my lecture?”

Severus’ eyes widened the slightest bit before he looked away, adjusting his position in his chair as he cleared his throat. A giggle slipped from your throat as you watched him sit in the awkwardness of your question when your food suddenly appeared before you. Severus sighed in relief as he reached for the napkin, placing it over his lap before picking up his cutlery to dive right in. He could still feel the heat in his face from your insinuation and though your assumption had been correct, he would lay before the Bellatrix’s blade before admitting it.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you said as you motioned to begin your meal as well. You kept your eyes on him as you placed your napkin over your lap, watching his lips twitch into a subtle smile for the first time that evening. You felt butterflies flourish in your stomach as you gazed on his expression, emotions you were sure he’d been used to suppressing emerging for your eyes and your eyes alone. He looked rather handsome when he smiled, his lips softening up the sharpness of his features.

Looking down at the dish waiting to be consumed, you couldn’t help but notice his choice was rather reserved, tasteful as all things on the menu were, but casual like he was playing it safe, needing to feel connected to what he knew rather than risk ordering something he’d never heard of before. But lucky for him, you weren’t too picky in your food choices, enjoying your meal as you continued to make small talk with Severus, the atmosphere lightening as the sun slowly set on your evening together. Time passed around you as you both captured this moment for yourselves, stopping the clocks in the bubble of your hotel room and lengthening your dinner as much as possible. But slowly your dishes were cleared and as you set down your cutlery after taking your last bite, you watched your dishes vanish. Time was up, yet you didn’t want to let go.

“Thank you for this,” Severus said as he wiped his mouth clean, vanishing his napkin when he was done with it. “I have to admit, this was not how I imagined the evening.”

His eyes were soft, his expression much happier than the one he wore when you first approached him. You gawked at him, unaware of the dreamy look you were giving him now. You had no idea why he’d come tonight, though you had your suspicions, but you were glad he did. He was a delight to talk to once he’d gotten comfortable around you, his lightened attitude amplifying the subtle beauty he held.

“And what were you expecting?” you asked curiously, hoping to get the confession you wanted out of him, to confirm your suspicions and perhaps open a door to a potential future with him.

“I suppose I’d only hoped to enjoy your presentation.” He spoke slowly, like he’d carefully picked out every word before speaking them. He felt his heart raging in discomfort, concerned for the thin ice he was walking across, trying to reach the happiness he saw on the other side.

“Nothing more?” You encouraged him, your voice echoing from beyond the ice, your smile inviting like you knew exactly what he had to say to safely cross over to you. He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment as he felt the heat rise to his face, his cheeks blushing a light shade of pink as he licked his lips, swallowing hard at the thought lingering in the forefront of his mind.

“I-I suppose I never thought myself lucky enough to engage in a conversation with you,” he pushed himself to say. His eyes slowly looked up from the table, meeting your gaze in an endlessly nervous state of desire. He carefully watched you, your smile growing as your eyes sparkled, clearly not appalled by his insinuation. He thought back to the speeches, conversations he’d play out in his mind whenever he read one of your books, always one sided, always filled with a need they’d one day come to life and it never seemed more possible that he’d get his wish than now.

“Then would you perhaps indulge me in your thoughts on my presentation?” you inquired, hoping this time, he’d show you what was in his notebook rather than shield them from you. Severus stared at you a moment, like he was very intently considering your request and whether or not he could trust you before nodding. He pushed back his chair and you jumped out of yours in excitement, already making your way over to the couch before he even got a chance to stand. You took a seat and waited for him to retrieve his notebook, feeling like you were about to take a peek into pandora’s box after the way he’d protected it earlier.

Severus cautiously took a seat beside you, notebook in hand. You were far enough away from him that you couldn’t read the writing on the pages as he flipped through it, but close enough that you could smell the lavender in his hair, the smell of fresh ink and parchment on his clothing and a faint smell of varying potion ingredients only a practicing potioneer could have. After carefully flattening the notebook, he handed it to you as if giving you the most delicate of flowers to hold.

Your eyes were wide as you placed it on your lap, your heart thumping in excitement as you scanned over the page filled with cramped notes so neatly written, filling up both pages laid before you. Your eyes travelled to the top of the first page, smiling as you saw today’s date written in the corner with the words ‘Society of Potioneers Award Ceremony. Presentation on Wolfsbane potion by (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’ written beneath. Your fingers hovered over the miniscule writing as you read along the page, flipping to the next, each word enticing you more and more. You had so much to say, so many ideas blooming as you continued through, remembering your own presentation and the correlation between his notes and your words.

“Severus, this is-” you whispered in such a stale tone. He’d been looking at you so intently, watching the expression on your face, checking you’d only flip forward in the notebook and not backwards, he’d completely been taken back by your sudden words. The silence had settled, thickened with such anticipation that even your small whisper had his heart skipping a beat. “You’re brilliant.”

Your words hung in the air, pinned in his mind as he pondered over their meaning, over how genuine they were. He wanted so badly to take your compliment and cherish it forever, but that wall he’d kept up since his teen years rejected it, pushed it away in fear of it causing harm in the future. He’d longed to discuss your research with you and now that he was being given that chance, he felt like he was spoiling it by remaining so silent.

“They’re just thoughts,” he mumbled as he looked down at his notebook.

“But they could be just what we need to propel our research forward,” you told him with excitement, continuing to read until you reached the final page, your fingers trailing along the sudden tough mark trailing to the end of the page, remembering the image of him walking out of the venue. You handed him back his notebook, respecting his privacy and the anxiety you could feel seeping off of him while you were reading his notes, you inched closer to him and faced him. “What would you say to a job opportunity with my research team?”

“I already have a job,” Severus said, almost regretting his own words. He couldn’t believe you’d just offered him a job opportunity, that you wanted to work with him after seeing the chicken scratch he’d scribbled during your presentation.

“Whatever your salary is, I’ll double it,” you insisted firmly. You straightened your back and held yourself up in determination. You’d decided. You had to work with him no matter the cost, he was more than just a talented potioneer as you’d first assumed, his talents wasting away at that school. If he’d only joined the research field years prior, perhaps you would have met sooner, perhaps you would have found a cure to lycanthrope rather than simply search for a temporary treatment.

“That’s generous but I have a commitment to Hogwarts, to the Headmaster.” Severus wanted so badly to say yes, to stay here with you and send Dumbledore his resignation letter without even heading back to Hogwarts tomorrow. He wanted more time with you, to know you more, to talk about your books, to work with you. But alas, the deal he made all those years ago wasn’t one he could afford to break, even if the old Wizard hadn’t kept his end of the bargain.

“Alright, what about the summer. You won’t be working once the school term has ended correct? Consider joining me this summer and if you enjoy it, perhaps I can discuss an arrangement with the Headmaster,” you tried to negotiate with him, making him an offer you were sure he couldn’t make an excuse for. You stared at him, waiting for an answer, but all you saw was an expression full of doubt, need and regret. You were sure he would want to jump at the opportunity as much as you, that he’d enjoyed your dinner enough to want to see more of each other, to work together after you saw the passion in his notes. But still he hesitated. Still he held back.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” he said softly, like he was worried if he spoke any louder, he’d be torn away from this moment. Never had he seen anyone fight for him as much as you did now. Never had he felt his presence actually wanted even when you knew he didn’t have the best history with Lupin, you still pushed to have him work with you. He was so incredibly flustered by the thought, thrown back and as much as he wanted to accept, to throw away his life and start a new one with you, he couldn’t abandon the Potter boy, especially after he’d proven himself in need of a silent shadow guarding these past few years. If he left, he was sure the boy would die within a year, the school falling apart, the war breaking out sooner than expected. His place was at Hogwarts, beside Dumbledore, fate had declared it so.

“Say you’ll at the very least consider it,” you pleaded with him, instinctively taking his hand in yours as you moved closer to him. “And perhaps we can discuss it further next time we have dinner together.”

You offered up your second plan, needing very much to see him again, even if it was for a few casual hours over a meal again. A date perhaps, a proper one where you didn’t have to sneak away from people like children. And as Severus squeezed your hand in return, you thought perhaps there was hope for you after all, that you hadn’t imagined the sudden spark that had ignited over dinner. Looking up, your eyes met his and you saw the softest smile, a twinkle of desire hidden deep within those dark orbs that carried the weight of the world.

“You’re welcome at Hogwarts at any time,” he offered in a whisper. He couldn’t find it in him to reject you completely, how could he after the rejection he’d known all his life. He wanted to keep the door open for you, to possibly pursue something with you if not a romantic or work relationship, then a friendship instead. You’d turned out to be such a breath of fresh air, something he hadn’t realized he needed, but he didn’t want to give it up all for the chance at redemption for his past mistakes. “If you’d just send me an owl in advance, I can make arrangement for you,”

“I’d like that,” you eagerly accepted his promise, making note to begin writing to him the moment you got back home.

“It’s getting rather late. I should make my way before it gets too dark.” Severus broke the moment with such reluctance, he almost wanted to take it back the second the words slipped his tongue. But he didn’t want to be rude and stay longer than he was welcomed, nor could he afford to stay a night in a place like this. He knew it was best to leave now before he got too attached to you that he’d find himself happily running away to the edge of the world if you’d ask it of him.

Your smile faded, your gaze dropping in disappointment and it almost broke his heart. You understood of course, but you didn’t want him to go. You would have gladly let him stay all night long if he wished it, but you knew how odd of an offer that would be, especially after his reluctance to accept your first two. Your hand slipped from his as you both stood, Severus gathering his belongings before making his way to the door. He opened it and took a step outside, turning around to face you.

“Until next time Severus Snape,” you said with one last smile, happy to receive one back. You closed the door before you did something you’d regret and drag him back inside, kidnapping the man for your own benefit and leaned on the door, throwing your head back as you closed your eyes and replayed the night in your mind.

Severus found himself unable to move the second the door closed and it wasn’t until he heard footsteps coming his way that his thoughts finally returned to him. He looked over to the side and saw a very stuned Remus Lupin frozen in his place as he stared at Severus. A smirk made its way to his lips as he finally found the strength to begin making his way out. Passing by Lupin, he held himself up high, sure to keep eye contact as his cloak left a billowing trail behind him. Tonight had truly gone much better than he’d expected, his own jealousy of you and Lupin conquered, a potential relationship brewing and he’d gotten the privilege all those pompous fouls downstairs would give an arm and leg for.

He’d left an impression on you, one he was sure you would not forget and with the cufflinks he’d left waiting for you to find in the middle of the glass table, he was positive he’d hear from you again. Nothing could ruin his current mood, not even the thought of returning to a school with a walking, living curse destined to bring about the end of him because he’d found the one thing he’d spent all these years searching for; a reason to keep going, a purpose beyond redemption, a chance at a normal life.

A/N: Ok I have no idea how this story ended up so long ,but then things happened and stuff... and here we are. I didn’t know how it would end, but I also didn’t want to rush the ending and just force them to end up together so hopefully I did it justice. This probably needs a part two lets be honest 😅

#Severus Snape #Severus x reader #Severus Snape x reader #one shot #Snape x reader #my fanfic #my writing #pro snape #snapedom

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voidstain · 2 years

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Proper Pinned Post

Anonymous blog that started as a writing blog. Now it's a bit of a mishmash. Self expression, often unedited and done on mobile. Maybe discourse, maybe rambly posts, who really knows.

Quick rundown: Pro-ship, pro-endogenic systems, pro-kink, pro-sex work, pro being radically inclusive generally. Disabled (physically and mentally, though the distinction is not one we feel needs to be made), queer, tired. 25+ body. We block liberally but do try to be understanding and own up to mistakes.

Feel free to block for any reason. We try to respect DNIs, if they exist/are accessible for us, but don't really think stating one ourselves is worth it. If you want to interact, you will, a DNI isn't going to do much to stop people. If you don't want to interact because of our stances, you aren't going to anyway.

Info on us and what you may expect to find on this blog below the cut.

We are a plural system that prefers using headmate/fictive terms over parts/alters/introjects. Voices will not be given names, and are numbered in order of choosing to use this blog, not by how many are actually here.

Currently:

Voice 1 (They/It)

Voice 2 (She/Her)

Voice 3 (They/It)

Voice: undisclosed (could be anyone, or a mix! Not necessarily a voice given a number.)

Voice 4 (They/Them)

Voice 5 (He/Him, & any)

Topics you may find:

Queer themes

Neurodiverse themes (Autism, ADHD, plurality, trauma, & more)

Cripplepunk/Madpunk/Punk in general

The woes of chronic pain

Lots of identity stuff

Self harm/Suicide/Death

Religious trauma

Unreality/Things of an otherworldly nature as if literal and as if really had happened

Dealing with reality, usually with hopepunk, but like, yikes

Fandomish stuff, maybe. Headmates/fictives being vague probably.

& more!

Any identifying info is not happening. If you think you know us no you don't. NDA this shit. Redirect your brain cells away from suspicion. If you browse thats fine but leave no trace, nature trail visit this place. Coincidences are just that, not even correlation. Or else.

(We'd probably just be embarrassed about being Known(tm) and kinda upset about some stuff being seen thats private but pretend I have a gun for the meme)

Thanks for coming to our ted talk, except psych, bonus ted talk of thoughts will be randomly added below

Anti-psychiatry. Yes we have a psychologist headmate, yes we are in therapy with a therapist who knows about us. Tear down the medical field and rebuild it brick by fucking brick without any brick not being seen to by someone it impacts. No one should be forced to have medical choices and bodily autonomy stripped like that.

As such, obviously, pro self-dx, because dx labels are like. a horrible mess. Half of it is different brands of slightly varied symptoms lining stuff up to see which eye glass you see through best at the eye doctor. Whatever's comfy yall. It's like trauma all the way down anyway. Yes for like, almost everything. Even the biological stuff is exacerbated by trauma. Life in our society is inherently traumatizing for 99.9% of people.

So like. Drugs. Relatedly. Addiction is a societal problem. Free supervised substance use sites is a public health issue. Stop jailing people (disproportionately BIPOC who are often then exploited as prison labor) for drugs. Stop villainizing them. Addicts should be supported, and you know what? If someone wants to do drugs sometimes, let em. They aren't a crime that forever marrs your immortal soul or some shit.

Opiod crisis. Pain relief seeking behavior being classified as drug seeking is costing lives, just give them the prescription. Also on this topic free healthcare. Abortion is an inherent right to bodily autonomy. Let someone trans their gender as much as they please so long as consent is informed. Also palliative care over life-prolonging care any day if the person wishes. Also physician's assisted suicide.

For the love of the vast void or whatever you believe in stop letting cops kill people. Stop letting cops. That's it end of sentence. Redirect funds to better serve the community. Cheer when the station goes up in flames. Also just because you're European doesn't mean you're free of the racism of the US.

More to be added when we feel like it. Also posts may get made abt these separately

#about #about us #about post #info

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yongiefilms · 4 years

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FILM | Together Alone

BASED ON | The NCT secret santa collaboration feature done by bumblebeenct and lucaswithnoshirt studios over @neoculturechristmas headquarters

DEDICATED TO | My own precious secret santa, @sly-merlin! This one is for you my love. I hope I did you justice for the type of fic you requested and I hope you like it! By the way I apologize for getting your present to you late.

STARRING | Huang Renjun and Female Reader

FEATURING | Lee Donghyuck

GENRE | Romance, Drama, Angst, Fluff, Business centred, and Holiday centred

RATING | PG-13

WARNINGS | Thematic elements, suggestive references and implications, crude humor, language, mentions of death, a deceased parent, drinking, alcohol, and other adult themes

PLOT | Everyone knew him. The heir to the multimillion dollar company. Next in line to inherit the top pharmaceutical business in all of China and South Korea. For being only 20 years old he was the most accomplished person of his age. Set to become the CEO at age 21 on his birthday, nearly a few months away, there was nothing that could deter him down the road for further success. They say he’s envied by most, yet loved all the same. If only people knew who Huang Renjun really was without his family’s name plastered against the walls of society that gave him fame and fortune. Only one would have the chance to find out the truth of his reality and sometimes when that comes near the end of a year shutting close, not everything can end pleasant like one hoped. OR Happy endings might not exist in this messed up world.

RUNNING TIME | 6.4k

DIRECTOR’S NOTE | Happy Holidays, my loves! This work is in honor of you all and the amazing year you all gave me with your immense love as well as support. I appreciate every single one of you more than you will ever know so I wish happy days among you this season and new year. I love you and please enjoy! Also, shout out to my lovely proofreader, @dvrlingrenjun, you’re the best.

1, 2, 3 Now Rolling...

“Fuck them all!” Huang Renjun yells out in frustration, leaning back abruptly in his black cushioned chair, his hands clutching tightly at his dark strands of hair.

The younger boy smirks at him, leaning against the pillar by his office. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

A glare was sent in his direction in retaliation. “Shut up, Donghyuck.”

“Sure, big guy,” he dismisses, the jab made at the older visible with the way his words cut through the air. “Still doesn’t render the fact that you have to go to this event like you always do.”

Renjun groans, his right hand going around his left wrist to play with the gold Cartier bracelet that rested there. A gift given to him when he turned the legal age of eighteen a few years ago. A gift given to him by his father, on behalf of his mother or so it was said. One that was a promise of luxury and achievement if he continued down the path they set out for him. His decision then when he was an adult to decide his fate, but that was only a lie. The bracelet was only a bribe for a materialistic life where he could be well off and if he stepped away then he would be stripped of everything that made him who he was.

“I know, okay? We do it every year but that still doesn't take away from the fact that I hate it. I hate all of it.”

Perhaps his father was a part of that.

“Well,” Donghyuck drawls, shrugging his shoulders when he lifts his body off the pillar to take long strides in order to reach the other boy. “At least it’s out of town this year so I’m down...I mean free vacation.” He gives a toothy grin, his eyes sparkling of juvenescence and a thrill for adventure, mystery, excitement. At least one of them still had a childlike soul and a more or less normal life while the other was forced to grow up too fast in the spotlight where eyes were scrutinizing his every move before he could even walk.

They called it maturity, but Renjun calls it loss of youth.

“You’re such a freeloader,” Renjun mutters, his hands stopping from playing with the bracelet to glance up in exasperation.

“Says the boy inheriting an almost billion dollar company without batting an eye,” Donghyuck snorts with an eye roll, picking at his nails that now gained all of his attentiveness.

It was true after all.

Renjun laughs in mockery. “You’re just jealous, so I wouldn’t be talking if I were you.”

Donghyuck sighs loudly for effect. “Cous, I wouldn’t want your life even if I tried. Some horrifying shit.” He shakes his head, obviously disturbed by the notion.

Renjun’s voice becomes small, yet firm. “It isn’t that bad...”

Donghyuck finally stops twiddling with his fingers to give the other the time of day with a look of obvious reluctance. “Uncle is scary, can you blame me?”

“Guess not, that man is my father.”

“Exactly and as much as I would love to continue this conversation,” Donghyuck glances at his crisp navy steel Bulgari watch, seeing the time half past noon. “I got to run, meeting with the boys soon and I just needed to deliver the message before that. Little pit stop if you will.” His hands flair out in a theatrical motion as if he were giving a bow.

“Oh?” Renjun raises an eyebrow, hands reaching out to get started on the stack of papers placed at the edge of his desk by his receptionist before Donghyuck’s surprised arrival. “Say hi to them for me.” He pauses in afterthought, knowing the younger’s antics. “Or not.”

Donghyuck’s boisterous laugh rings. He knew him so well. “Very funny, but oh, wait!”

The increase in his tone attracts the older’s regard who was beginning to read through the proposal. “Yes?”

“Here,” Donghyuck states, reaching into the back pocket of his chinos to pull out a small black velvet box with gold edging. “An early present of sorts. I assumed you might like it.” He slides the box over on the desk where it is caught in the grasp of delicate hands.

“Proposing are we? You know we are related right?” Renjun smiles snidely, running his fingers over the soft velvet in wonder. It was rare to get a gift from Lee Donghyuck himself and with the right intentions at that.

“It would be an honor and privilege to marry me, thank you, but no it’s just...open it when I leave. I’m not into that sappy shit as you know. I have a matching one too, but yeah merry early Christmas and New Years.” His easy grin widens as he winks to take backward steps to the exit of the office. Always one for a dramatic flare.

“Matching...we can’t be a couple either, Hyuck,” Renjun says, shaking his head while he puts the box down on his desk in wait.

Donghyuck flips him off and grits out a reply. “Shut up and be grateful for once.”

Turning his head back to his papers, he mutters, “Oh, I am.”

“Anyways, bye you fucker. Don’t drown in work,” Donghyuck lets out once he turns his back.

“Thank you for caring, delivery boy,” Renjun shouts as his cousin finally opens the door to exit after his much longer than anticipated stay.

Donghyuck’s hands still on the silver knob before he can fully push the door. “When don’t I? If you’re gone then that means I would have to inherit the company and as much as I would love the money, the fame, the attention, maybe even the girls...I don’t want that responsibility. You get me?”

Renjun rolls his eyes, spinning the black ballpoint pen between his index and ring finger. “Just say you’re lazy and go.”

“I am going!” Donghyuck exclaims while he turns his head over his shoulder, shooting the boy sitting at the desk that didn’t quite fit him well, another wink. “Bye for real, Junnie!”

The door at last closes and he is gone in a blur of colors.

Renjun mumbles under his breath. “I told you not to call me that.”

His mother used to call him that and she didn’t have the chance to stay long in this world. Taken too soon is what they say, but maybe she was blessed before everything turned to stone.

With Donghyuck’s departure, Renjun looks over at the lone box that was gifted to him, perhaps not a gift like the others that held no meaning, for this one was an outlier in the equation. Donghyuck never gave without meaning or gain so it had to be special.

He places his pen down and picks up the box, undoing the clasp that held it close. The box opens to a sight he has gotten used to, yet there was a disparity. In between the cushion of the velvet laid a beautiful silver Chopard ring. The band was simple in design, yet intricate with the signature ice cubes filled with small sparkling diamonds across the entire width. Renjun handles the ring with care once it is taken out of the box to inspect every detail. Not only was the brand engraved in stunning cursive on the inside, but Donghyuck had gotten the ring customized with the word family in the same writing on the opposite side of the inner circle.

Renjun runs his fingers over the engraving, the words rough under his calloused hands. He hums in thought as he slips the ring on his middle finger, the radiance seeping in from the windows catching the precious metal. “Family...family...I haven’t had one in a long time.”

The truth is he had, has, but he was too blind to see.

Family is not just those that are immediate, composing of a father and mother or even siblings. Family can also entail the greater extent from cousins to aunts to grandparents. Family can even be those that are not blood related like the friends a person surrounds themselves by.

Renjun has family. If only he could acknowledge them before they too left him utterly alone.

Alone was something Renjun was not for the days to come.

A week later after his cousin delivered the news about the annual holiday vacation and company sponsored events that his family has been hosting since his late teen years, he was flown in a private plane against his will to a remote town near Busan, far off from the heart of Seoul. He would rather spend the holidays in the city where he grew up like all those past seasons ago, but his father decided there was a need for change, a mirror of one forthcoming in virtually three months. Usually those that made the trip came for the designated three days they were given which still involved work communications with scant room for relaxation depending on the schedules of selected individuals. However, if one was a Huang, which Renjun was the only one left along with his father that were at least part of the business, then departure and stay differed. Intermingled was the Huang winter vacation with that of business affairs, a factor that was born when the tradition started. His father always said to kill two birds with one stone when given the chance and this very situation was one he took hold of to morph into a personal gain.

Nothing was ever as it seemed with his father, nor himself. One characteristic they shared among a hundred to a thousand polarities.

Albeit this time around, Renjun had fought against his father’s wants, which was not the first instance, but was one that ended in surprising success. Success he tasted on the daily, even if all was bitter with no room for happiness. However, this success was sweet with contentment, ending with an awfully horrid aftertaste. Convincing his father to fly him out along with the others on the 23rd of December instead of the 20th was a victory no less. At least he didn’t have to spend unwanted days in the presence of his old man longer than necessary.

He arrives in wealth and social standing like he always did for once his black A.Testoni dress shoes hit the white tiled floor of the airport’s general aviation ramp building, everyone within his general vicinity, even those afar, are taking heed to his every need, that as of now are limited.

A slightly older woman who he deems as his assistant, comes into view, her black Prada heels clicking loudly against the tile as she advances with a clipboard and her trusty cell in her hands to the boy. She cheerful speaks into the empty building, her smile unwavering. “Mr. Huang, I am glad you had a safe flight. I printed your itinerary for the next couple of days that I will hand to you once we are in the limo. Considering it is…” She glances at her Apple Watch Series 6 to check the time. “Two forty three as of now, we can drop off your luggage at the Lodge and get you settled into your room before your three fifteen lunch with Mr. Kim and his wife at the Yongsusan Café. You will be with them for an hour before the rest of the afternoon is yours to spend productively. Then at six o’clock the maids and stylists will come by to get you ready for the business meeting at seven thirty, following with a small dinner party with those same individuals, including their wives and children. Sounds good?”

Renjun does not even have time to reply before his assistant speaks again.

“Yes, okay! Let’s get going then.” She turns on her heel abruptly, yet with expertise without room for error and begins taking steps away from the plane to the left. “The limo should be this way, follow me while your luggage gets loaded. The drive should not take more than ten minutes.”

He has no choice but to accompany her as he would not be able to make a run for it, he will be caught within seconds. He tried once and that was only one failure amongst little to none in his book.

His strides are slow and lousy as if he had all the time in the world to do as he pleased, when he in fact did not, far from it in actuality. Even so before he knows it he reaches the limo and is lurched forward in motion towards his destination for the next few days. The place his dad selected oozes with sumptuous intent, being a gorgeous mid-century modern wooden lodge that nearly looked like a manor upon inspection. As the limo pulls up to the front, Renjun is able to see the beauty up close that he is entranced by even if he seems unfazed. New places and people excite him more than he lets on for his life is dull, lacking fulfillment of an unknown tomorrow.

The porter, who is situated in patience by the front doors, strides forward to open the door of the limo, permitting Renjun to step out with the authority and grace bestowed upon him.

When he crosses the threshold into the Lodge he is met with an even better interior that rivaled that on the outside, but he is not allowed to ponder too much on the design before the head manager greets him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Huang, it is certainly a pleasure for you to stay with us at the Lodge this fine holiday season. I am Gwan Jang-Mi and I will be showing you to your room today along with giving you a small tour of this place in order to familiarize yourself with the setting. If you look here to your left…”

Her speech is drowned out into obscurity as Renjun’s awareness shifts to another woman, one so stunning that he is surprised he did not take notice sooner. When sauntering through the entryway into the resting room that will be cleared out in the next couple of hours, a bar is situated to the left where you stand, arranging countless bottles of liquor to wine on the counter, no doubt for the little party later or for the meeting. Those men were heavy drinkers and needed alcohol to make it through the rest of the evening. Renjun did drink to drown his sorrows, worry, and anxiousness away, but he was not one to throw himself down a spiraling hole of darkness nor chaos that he could not get out of, for those consequences were ones he did not want to reap.

The soft sunlight peaks through the high guarded windows, shining down on your face that enunciates your features. For simply being in a black polo and khaki pants, you made it work and drew all attention to yourself without even knowing the power you held.

The moment of admiration comes to a close when Renjun is ushered away from the ground floor to make way to his room in the upper levels, leaving you behind.

Yet that would not be the last time.

Time goes by slowly when there is no purpose, no meaning to the daily workings of one person in the masses of others. Renjun has experience in that regard, time always goes by slowly for him and exhausts him a great deal like a rotary clock that seeks no end.

He was worn out by the time he got back to the Lodge in the early evening due to the stay with the Kims went longer than necessary and he was called elsewhere upon emergency to discuss future matters. He did not have time for himself like his assistant had plainly made known so there he was, collapsed head first into his silk covers, ten minutes to six.

Instead of taking a long awaited nap he is ushered up and into more formal wear after a cleanse from the bustle of bodies that barge into his room.

No privacy. No sense of normality.

That is the normal.

The next few hours go by in blur from him sitting in front of a mirror to have his hair styled to sitting in front of burly old men that were associates and inventors of the company in a grad meeting room with locked doors and the finest assortment of liquor that money can buy.

He is out of the confines in no time, not even bothering to say one final hurrah before he lurches himself out the door and into the now cleared out resting room. One of the servers comes by then dressed in all black attire that was nothing of the typical black and white uniform, edging towards a usual guest. Renjun snatches a glass of sparkling champagne and gulps it down in one go off their silver platter, discreetly of course, for he has to look composed—sober throughout the entire affair. He always could hold his alcohol without a problem and he felt blessed to have that advantage. One thing he is proud of.

He is whisked away not even moments after by one of the older investors, Mr. Han, to moreover chew over the end of the year budget and his stance on future decisions to be made in the new year. From the corner of his eye while listening to the man talk in a flamboyant manner, he sees his father standing with a glass of white wine happily talking to another investor, a more influential one, the most influential one of them all and his wife along with their daughter who was not even carefully surveying the room in search of someone.

Renjun’s eyes widen in shock, mumbling under his breath, “Shit.”

Mr. Han stops the flow of words out his mouth, his eyebrows rumpling together. He did not hear the swear word the boy uttered, yet he heard something in passing. “Pardon?”

Renjun shakes his head vaguely, bringing his third glass of champagne in the air as a sign of departure. “Ah excuse me, Mr. Han, but it seems I have been beckoned elsewhere.” His eyes shift over to his father who was not making direct eye contact with him, but Mr. Han did not need to know that little detail as he observes Renjun’s line of sight.

Mr. Han chuckles brightly. “I see, well I must not keep you from your father.”

Renjun smiles. “No, you must not, but we shall continue this conversation later, Mr. Han. I am sure you have much more to say and I will happily discuss further with you.”

Mr. Han waves his hand in the air nonchalantly. “We shall. Now off you go.”

Renjun nods his head, his lips still quirked up in a smile, this one more genuine than the last, as he makes a beeline towards his father to make everything seem more believable. Though once he no longer feels the eyes of Mr. Han on his retreating back he switches routes, going to the left rather than straight ahead. He circles around the opposite side, catching a stark mop of washed out red hair amongst the crowd in the process—Donghyuck. His cousin is not alone, however, talking rather freely with a girl he could not quite see in his peripheral vision. The grin on Donghyuck’s face is undeniable even with his back turned and the way Renjun hears the tiny giggles you are emitting, all is too familiar, which is the perfect cause for a disruption.

Renjun does not acknowledge his cousin when he arrives at the bar, the younger boy too immersed in conversation so he signals for the other worker that comes becking to his call.

“A Negroni, on the rocks.”

The girl nods in understanding and turns to prepare the drink while Donghyuck still has not noticed his presence. The younger boy always did focus on what was in front of him rather than on his surroundings, contrary to his cousin that saw the whole picture. Two contrasting people surely with unlike futures ahead of them.

The frosted glass with the reddish-orange liquid and topped with orange shavings is served to him a minute later, placed in front of him on a matching glass coaster.

He clears his throat loudly in an attempt to catch Donghyuck’s attention. “Thank you.”

A method that proves effective since the younger boy finally turns his head to the right to see Renjun sitting on the barstool next to him, sipping casually on his high class Negroni.

His eyes are wide, but he masks his shock with a subtle smirk. “Jun! Well, well, if it isn’t the mini man himself. How long have you been sitting there?”

Renjun snorts into his glass, shaking his head at the dig Donghyuck made at his height, always one out for blood. “Far too long to have noticed your flirting from across the room, Hyuck.” It is now his turn to smirk, but Donghyuck’s own is still unfaltering.

“I take pride in my skills, glad you gave your time of day to notice.” He elevates his glass up then, filled most likely with a Nicolashka, his favorite holiday drink to date, and takes a sip himself, a move Renjun mimics.

Then your voice interrupts. “Sorry to cut in, but I have to get back to work. You’ve been distracting me for the last ten minutes, mister.” Your stern gaze is directed at Donghyuck from the latter statement. Although once your words are uttered, Renjun focuses his eyes on you, scrutinizing your appearance. The very girl he saw earlier today, the girl Donghyuck so happened to have a chance with before him—you.

Donghyuck laughs, the smirk morphing into a shiteating grin. “I told you, call me Hyuck.”

“Well, Hyuck, I have to get back to work...plus I am sure you want to talk to your friend.” Your gaze flickers to Renjun in that instance and lingers there longer than necessary that has him laughing to himself.

Donghyuck’s charm only goes so far.

The younger boy peers at Renjun when you utter out friend, and he smiles small in remorse. “Sadly, but do not let me keep you from your work.”

You turn your back on him, your eyes catching Renjun’s in the process before you look away from the intensity of the dark orbs. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

You leave the bar area then most likely to put on an apron that Renjun noticed you had not worn throughout the entire duration. Donghyuck simply distracted you before the start of your shift and after, not a good trait to inherit.

Donghyuck hums, but let’s the remark go as he fully turns to Renjun to start up that conversation.

He raises an eyebrow. “Must you always keep me from having fun?”

Renjun shrugs his shoulders, swishing the liquid in his glass. “Not always, but I was saving that girl from misery. You should be thankful that I care enough.”

Donghyuck taunts. “Oh wow I feel so special.”

Renjun sternly eyes him, his voice lowering. “You should.”

Donghyuck’s lips open to retort a response, but no words are spoken on his end for his eyes look over the older boy’s shoulders and he catches sight of someone none of them truly like or have liked after the incident. He sees her.

“Well fuck, here comes the devil,” is all he makes out and the phrase enough has Renjun turning his own head hastily to see who he was watching. Such is when he sees his ex-girlfriend, Cha Yeona, prowling straight towards their way.

“I’m going to go...so good luck, mate. You’ll need it.” Donghyuck pats Renjun’s shoulder in departure and his gesture of sympathy, leaving him in the wake of a girl he really did not wish to see or converse with.

Once he leaves the bar in quick speed, you come in at that exact moment, your eyes zoning in on the way Yeona’s dainty hand latches onto Renjun’s forearm in greeting. You turn away from the image, busying yourself with wiping down the glasses.

“Oh! What a lovely surprise,” Yeona voices, letting her hand maneuver down to place on top of Renjun’s hand in which she gives him a faint squeeze thereof. He flinches from the contact, retracting his hand to slip into the pocket of his Burberry blazer while the other rims his glass.

He peers at her intently, a potency that has her giggling nervously. His looks could kill whenever he was serious with a blank face and austere hollows of eyes. “Hello, Yeona.”

She sits down gracefully on the stool next to him, crossing her long unblemished legs over each other, her hands placed in her lap. Her smile is bright and makes him want to pull out his hair. She was always two-faced. “Hi Jun Jun! How have you been?”

He lets the pet name go, but does not glance at her again, looking over her head at the white lights strung outside. “Good.”

Silence engulfs them that has her fidgeting out of discomfort. He evidently did not want to talk. She reaches her hand out to touch him once more that has him leaning away. She sighs in defeat, retreating from the gesture. She would have to reach him some other way. “Well...I—”

He cuts her off from continuing, drowning the last contents of his drink before he pushes the glass away towards the server at the end of the counter. He puts a hand up. “Save it. I have no reason to talk to you again. Leave.”

He arches his eyebrow when he sees she makes no move to leave and he chuckles darkly. “Do I have to tell you again? Or should I have security escort you out?”

She flinches from the tone of his voice and gulps, her throat becoming exceptionally dry. She hurriedly stands up, almost ripping over her heels and departs without a goodbye, not that he wished to get one from her. Her slim body covered in a blood red dress slips into the crowd and Renjun finally releases the breath he was holding.

He tugs at the strands of his gelled back hair. “Fucking bitch,” he mutters, lifting a finger in the air to signal for another drink that the server speedily moves to make.

“A little harsh, don’t you think?”

Renjun lifts his eyes to see you gaping at him, an eyebrow uplifted in fascination as you finally were in your uniform, a white cloth draped over your shoulders. Renjun runs his hand through his hair and scoffs from the remark thereafter. He was sure the stylists would be upset to see him dishevel their mighty work, but he could care less.

He shakes his head, the strands of hair rustling. “No, I think not. She deserves it.”

“Wow. Again, harsh.” You laugh mockingly and grab his drink that was slid over by your coworker to clean the glass again. You place the beverage down on the coaster which he takes with pleasure, muttering a small thank you that you can barely hear amidst the classical music playing in the background. Your hands make contact for a split second that has tingles erupting on your end, in a rather cliche response, yet he made no move of the feeling.

There is quietness again that makes you flustered since you were never one to enjoy the muted scenery, always wanting a sound ringing in your ears. While Renjun enjoyed the still, always wanting a sound that faded in the wind and never made a comeback appearance.

In a desperate attempt to keep conversation while making yourself busy by fixing up the bottles of alcohol, you propose a question that invades his privacy, whilst he never had privacy to begin with, a factor you were left in the dark about.

“So...um...your girlfriend?” You ask, in regards to Yeona that left some minutes ago.

Renjun snorts, placing down his glass and interlocks his hand to rest his chin on, a move to focus solely on you. “Right. She’s my ex-girlfriend actually so you’re not entirely wrong.”

You mumble out a quiet, “Oh.” It was not your business to know his affairs after all, yet there was a voice nagging within that made you curious to find out every part of him.

The tranquility hugs the both of you once more, until he questions you out of the blue.

“You want to get out of here?”

To say you are shocked is an understatement, since you are in fact bamboozled beyond belief. He says the declaration with so much firmness and certainty, it has your heart twisting on the inside.

You lightly laugh to mask the shock and turn around to really look at him, a look that he reciprocates. “I don’t even know you.”

A keen smile is visible on his lips. “Exactly the point. You have nothing to lose.”

You shake your head, leaning against the counter of the bar to stare into his eyes that look so lifeless, yet beautiful. “Maybe, but this is my job. I can’t just bail.”

He leans his head closer to you, an act that allows you to a whiff of the Christian Dior Ambre Nuit cologne he wears and his minty fresh breath. “Of course you can.” His soothing voice turns teasing as he smirks. “Don’t worry I won’t tell.”

You scoff to yourself, surprised by his mannerisms of outforwardness. You look around then to see if anyone is watching the two of you, but all eyes are elsewhere and you let out a sigh of relief. Another girl comes into the bar when you glance to the side, most likely to cover the next shift that was not yours quite yet, be that as it may you did have a break coming up.

Renjun outstretches his hand in patience, his smirk slowly growing, even if it was borderlining a smile that you could see right through. He hums in anticipation and you give in.

“Okay fine, but not for too long,” you say as you rest your hand in his. The cold of your fingers meet his warm ones and you latch on for dear life, afraid to let go.

He grins at you and squeezes your hand. “No promises.”

Then he proceeds to drag you out of the bar, tugging you to who knows where. The tingle of a secret keeps you on your toes and you become giddy, laughing along the halls as he steers you left, right, straight, left, right, up...a never ending cycle of adventure.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” You ask after gaining the courage. He is intimidating in some regards, the thought of how he acted towards his ex-girlfriend as visible as day in your mind.

He shrugs, finally slowing down. “Who knows. Could be outside in the cold or near a fireplace in the warm. You will just have to see.”

“That certainly gives me no direction at all.”

He turns his head to look at you and stops suddenly, having you nearly crash into his back before he tugs you to the other side. He chuckles when he sees your horrified face from almost busting your nose. “That was the point, darling.”

You huff in annoyance when he continues walking, the pressure of his fingers around your own feels heavier as time drags on and your heart has no sense of calm, constricting with the name of endearment that slipped past his slim lips.

“Okay, we are here!” He announces and lets go of your hand, the bareness of his heat leaving you shivering. You take a step back from planting your feet firmly on the floor and glance around the room in which he stopped. It was one of the upper level rooms with strict access only to the most wealthy of the associates and investors. His family must be one of those highly regarded, if only you knew how highly regarded his family is, being the ones with the most status, the most affluent lifestyle. However, you would remain clueless.

“Oh, wow. The view up here is amazing.”

Renjun laughs, placing his hands in the front pocket of his slacks as he strolls around the room, glancing at the glowing fire that was left on and the books that were sealed shut. “Trust me, I am well aware. Why do you think I brought you up here?” He gives you an exasperated stare, peering past at the giant window you stood in front of that showcased the whole town, now covered in sleek white snow. It must have snowed while he was conversing with others at the party for when he arrived at the meeting hours ago, the land was void.

The white flakes are still falling outside, delicately covering everything in one uniform color that leaves you in awe and he is left admiring you, how at peace you are. How free you look, an emotion he never held onto in his entire life.

“So besides admiring this view, what are we doing up here?” You ask, your fingertips grazing the cool frosted glass of the window, seeing beyond to the endless landscape and twinkling stars along with lights of the houses nearby.

Renjun answers bluntly. “Admiring the view.”

You can’t stop the titters from escaping you and you roll your eyes, an action he sees through the reflection.

He steps forward, coming up besides your figure to look more clearly at the breathtaking scenery of a winter wonderland. “No, I’m joking...at least partially.”

You giggle some more, interlocking your hands in front of you. “I didn’t know you had it in you to joke.”

It is now his turn to laugh. “Darling, I have a lot in me that you don’t know.”

You sigh solemnly, taking a step back to turn around, examining the other objects around the room. “Oh, I’m sure.”

He is an enigma waiting to be unraveled, but you would not be the one to solve his case and that alone is an idea that scares you.

Before you can get farther away, his hand wraps around your wrist, preventing you from escape. You peer down at his hand then up to his eyes, your eyebrows scrunching together in perplexity.

He does not speak, only drags you into him to where you are now chest to chest, only an inch of distance between your bodies. The closeness between the two of you leaves you breathless and gasping for air. His thumb carrasses your arm and runs down to the palm of your hand, enveloping his fingers around your skin. Your eyes are trailing the movements and you take a sharp intake of breath, curious as to what can happen next. He hooks his other free index finger under your chin to lift your face up so he can see you in distinct luminosity.

You have gazed at his eyes practically all evening, but nothing has prepared you for seeing him up close. He is even more handsome in full definition from the lines on his soft pink lips to his perfectly tousled hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters, his thumb running along your cupid’s bow. “Absolutely and breathtakingly beautiful.”

You gulp, the words drying up in your throat for what could you say to his compliment?

Then everything happens at once.

His hand moves to wrap around the back of your head and he tugs you closer by the other until you are pressed up against each other. He lightly pushes your head forward and contact is made.

Lips against lips. Moving and moving against each other, taking all your breath away for the second time within a span of a few seconds.

He lets go of holding your hand and wraps his arm around your waist, to pull you closer if such is even possible. To make the contact more tender and desirable.

You suppose desire is that which allows the moment to escalate further. From a mere innocent kiss to a fiery passion of craving for more.

When your lips separate, he does not think twice before grabbing your hand once more and dragging you down the long corridor to arrive at his secluded room around the corner.

He opens the door with haste as you come tumbling in after him, grabbing, pulling, tugging until all that is left is just you and him.

The frantic beats of two hearts.

The heat of skin pressed against skin.

Simply two bodies that became one all due to the desire floating around the room and pushing you to the limit.

You lost yourself in him that night and he in you.

Lost to the pure ecstasy of pleasure during the season of joy and love.

Yet the season could also be one for giving and taking.

You wake to a cold bed the next morning.

Gone is the warmth of a boy who made you feel like you were on top of the world, someone special enough to demand notice and have anything that is asked for.

Gone is the sweet nothings he whispered in your ear, the words of assurance, comfort, and false love that made you feel worth it and simply protected.

Gone is the long lingering touches of his fingers pressing into you and dancing along the lines of your body to explore and learn.

Gone is the feeling of his lips on your skin that was enough to ignite you ablaze and leave you seeing all the colors of the rainbow.

Gone is he—Huang Renjun.

All that remains of the remembrance from the night is the note he left by the oak bedside table, one that crushed the dream of longing and hope within. One that slapped you with the crude reality of who he truly was, is, in a place that you did not belong to and never would.

Thanks for last night, but it’s a one time thing. You can see yourself out. Happy holidays.

He signed the note with his initials, H.R. and his family’s embroidered seal.

Then you realize in that moment, your bare body covered in his silk covers in the large suite he had all to himself, that the holidays are not for everyone.

You can either be together with someone else or alone by yourself.

Never the two.

Always one or the other.

You had hoped to be together yet alone with him in privacy to make your own memories away from prying eyes, but at the end of the day you were by yourself and he was too.

That is how life works in this sick, twisted world.

Men against men. Women against women. Everyone against everyone.

Alone.

Never together.

Like he and you.

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