#the moment I learned this I immediately imagined them speaking each others lines

[holdupjack]

Jump The Line Pt.1

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Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

AU: 1950s/WWIII/pretend enemies

WARNINGS: None

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Third Person P.O.V:

December 12th, 1965

Y/n stood at her post on the march of a small town in her country. It was just a small wall of barbwire and sandbags, but right on the other side, were hundreds of witches and wizards.

(A/N: A 'March' is just another way to say 'border')

It was kind of surreal to think that something so insignificant, was their only line of defense. Hell, Y/n could jump it with ease if she wanted to.

But, now thinking about it, it really wasn't their only line of defense. There was her. The recruit that was a few months fresh out of boot camp, and was now the sole gun that stood guard on this strip of border.

It was very much terrifying, and a lot to put on one's shoulders. The only other soldier on this street was two blocks away, and he wasn't even awake half the time. So...she just bit her tongue and held her gun by its strap over her shoulder. She would stare at the wall on the other side of the street for almost twelve hours at a time before anyone bothered to relieve her from her post.

Everyone in this small town knew that they needed more soldiers stationed here, but there just wasn't enough to go around. Their enemy outnumbered them here, and they knew that was well, yet they just hovered around the borderline.

Watching, talking amongst one another in hushed voices, or sometimes one of them would walk up and ask her if she had a smoke. It was honestly quite strange, and a little unnerving.

But, there was only one small upside to this whole thing, and it was also an upside that would get her into more trouble than she could ever imagine. There was this certain...witch.

Ugh, it was ridiculous, honestly. She was one of the communication liaisons for their leaders, and they happened to work around the same time every day. From 6 pm to 6 am, Y/n would watch as the brunette went from tent to tent with papers and files tucked under her arms, sometimes even arguing with the higher ranks in the area while doing so.

Y/n never knew what they were arguing about, it was all a bunch of gibberish to her, but the only real thing she had learned was the woman's name.

Hermione.

A wizard had yelled at her for doing his job, to which she immediately stood toe to toe with him, barking back in his face that he should be 'better at it since he was watching her do it for so long'. It took everything in Y/n to not laugh because the man was a good foot higher than her, and yet she held her ground.

Their eyes had met a few times throughout Y/n's new post, but it only lasted a few seconds each time. The soldier thought it meant nothing, and wouldn't be surprised if the liaison cursed her whole lineage in her head.

But then, something mysterious happened.

Y/n had been where she always was, staring at the wall across the way, only really looking across when there was a sudden movement, or something caught her eye. So she was quite spooked when a soft voice called out to her from the left, where the border sat.

"Hello there"

Y/n blinked and looked over to find the intriguing liaison standing right at the edge of the waist-high wall. It was around 3am, and both sides were quiet as church mice, which is what usually happened when the moon came out to greet them.

"Uh, hello" Y/n replied in surprise. She wasn't a hundred percent sure if she was even supposed to be talking to her, but then again, it wasn't her first time talking to the enemy. They were kind enough to feed her during her patrols since she was told repeatedly that she would be reprimanded if she even thought about lifting her eyes away from the border.

You don't even want to know about the bathroom situation.

"May we speak for a moment?" The brunette asked, and Y/n subconsciously leaned on one foot to the other. She hesitated before taking a few tiny steps forward and tightening her grip on the strap of her rifle.

"I don't bite, you know" Hermione laughed softly, and Y/n opened her mouth to say something but ended up just closing it a few seconds later. She was nervous for multiple reasons, which incidentally caused her tongue to shrivel up, but thankfully the other woman was more talkative at the moment.

"My name is Hermione Granger, I am the communications liaison for this battalion, and you are...Y/l/n? Do you perhaps have a first name?" She joked as she read the tag on her uniform, to which the soldier stood up straighter and finally found her voice.

"Y/n, I'm a soldier" she replied and the witch nodded, her eyes flicked up and down the fighter's body a few times, before meeting her gaze again.

"I'm like you, except with powers" Hermione states, and Y/n furrowed her brows in confusion. From what she knew, the enemy was a hidden society that lived under our noses for centuries!

Then again, they are just people as well.

"How so?" Y/n asks as she takes another tiny step forward, her eyes watching carefully as Hermione chuckles and pushes down the wrinkles on her own uniform.

"I was just like you, a regular little girl in London" she explains and the surprises Y/n. Regular? So, she wasn't magical a birth? Fascinating.

"Really?" Y/n asks as she takes another step, a shiver then runs up her spine as snow clouds rippled over the landscape just outside of town. It wouldn't be long before she was stuck in a powdery downpour. God, that's the worst thing about this area of the country around wintertime, it snowed more often at night than it did during the day.

"Truly" Hermione replies as she takes a step forward as well. It wasn't long before they stood directly in front of one another, and there was a strange mix of awkwardness, fear, and curiosity. It felt wrong to even look at the other person, but at the same time, the rush felt very nice.

"How did you know? When you got your abilities, I mean" Y/n stammered as she anxiously held her gun by its strap over her shoulder. Even though there was barely anyone else on the streets, it was still nerve-wracking to think that they both could accidentally start a battle or be severely reprimanded.

"Little things. When I got very emotional, strange moments started to happen. Objects would disappear, change color or size, or even levitate if I was angry enough" Hermione explained as she watched Y/n tilt her head in thought, even tracing the bricks under her feet with the tip of her boot. The witch found it endearing since this was the first soldier she had tried to speak to, that didn't immediately put a gun in her face. So, that was refreshing.

"That's very interesting, but I doubt you've called me over to chitchat about our lives" Y/n replied with a slight smile, the brim of her cap blocked the light from the street lamp from hitting her eyes. Hermione was surprised by the insight but was glad to know that she didn't have to beat around the bush.

"You are right. The real reason I am here is because we would like to send a message to the civilians within the town and any military personnel." Hermione says as she clears her throat and straightens her posture. Perhaps to make herself more official, or maybe just to remind herself that she had a job to do.

"Message?" Y/n mumbled to herself as she furrowed her brows, and noticed as Hermione pulled out a large yellow envelope from somewhere. Maybe she was holding it? Y/n wasn't entirely sure.

"We are giving anyone who would like to leave the area, a chance to do so without problems. We have our forms of transportation that can send them wherever they would like to go." Hermione says in almost one breath, and Y/n is stunned to hear this. Was this...a warning? That something big was about to happen?

"I understand the civilians wanting to leave, but soldiers? You're asking us if we want to abandon our homes? Betray our country?" She asked calmly, but it was obvious she was offended. The brunette quickly shook her head and held the envelope over the waist-high barbed wire.

"No, no. It's just...a suggestion" she says with a slight breath as Y/n has to hold back the urge to snatch the documents from the other girl's hand. Hermione watched as the soldier pulled out the papers and read them over carefully, even stepping back to be directly under the streetlights.

This was big. It was multiple copies of the same thing the witch had said. Anyone who wanted to evacuate was more than willing to come to the border with a bag and would be taken anywhere they'd like. Free of charge.

Y/n stuffed the papers back into the envelope, and turned her back towards Hermione, before giving a loud whistle down the street. The brunette raised an eyebrow in slight confusion before a boy, no older than 18, came jogging down to Y/n. He could barely hold up his weapon, and he seemed very on edge, almost like a deer in headlights.

"Ryland, stay here and guard the border. I have to take these papers to command, immediately" Y/n explains in a hushed tone, watching as the young man nodded, his helmet blocking his eyes for a moment before he quickly pushed it back up. Everything on him was way too big, but it wasn't like the world had time to tailor his uniform right now.

"Yes, of course" he stammers before Y/n quickly runs off into the darkness with the flyers in hand. The young man, Ryland, Hermione thought she heard, quickly pointed his gun at her.

"Back! Or I shoot!" He shouted in between a stutter, and Hermione quickly raised her hands and backed away with an annoyed expression, but then again, he was probably scared out of his mind.

Hermione made her way back into the nearest tent as a cold wind blew just behind her, and then soon the soft shine of snow began to fall onto the thick dark fabric of the shelter. She sighed softly and pulled up a chair to the table in the middle as everyone slept soundly in their cots.

She should get some sleep, but she wanted to speak to that soldier again. She was obviously much kinder, and less likely to jump the gun. Literally.

Hermione jumped as another loud clash of a distant mortar erupted from outside the village, and she couldn't help up laugh at herself softly and lay her face in her hands. She really didn't find it all that funny, but she'd rather laugh than cry.

After spending a few months on the front lines in England, she's found herself very scared of loud noises. It reminded her of grenades, artillery, and the distance fire of tanks.

So, she just laughed it off. The last thing she needed was to be sent back home when she knew she could help end this war sooner than later.

It also didn't help that she had been fighting against other muggle-borns who had chosen the other side. Seeing classmates on the opposite side of the front lines, with nothing but muggle weapons. She had seen a few break their wands before returning home, knowing that it was the only way they could leave the Wizarding World without much resistance.

Speaking of home, her childhood house was destroyed during the invasion of London. Thankfully, she had her parents move into a rented home hidden in the mountains in Europe. They're protected from the battles and hidden by magic, and that's all she could really do.

"Oh Merlin" she whispers softly as she rubs her temples, fighting off sleep as it tries to creep in, feeling her eyes droop closed and then shoot open repeatedly. Finally, she stood up and shook her head in an attempt to awaken herself, but it only made her yawn as she quietly walked over to the flap of the tent, opening it enough to peak out into the snowstorm.

She was surprised to already see Y/n right back at her post, the snow drenching the thin uniform she wore as flakes blew off the brim of her cap. Had Hermione been thinking for that long? No, it must have only been a few minutes, but their base of operations must not be that far from the border.

"She doesn't even have a winter coat on" Hermione grumbled quietly as she took in Y/n's appearance from what she could see due to the low glow of the street light.

"Who doesn't?" The whisper came from behind her, and she instinctively jumped and whipped her head around, but only found Harry with a smile on his lips.

"Harry! Don't do that! When did you even get here?" She states, almost with a hiss in her words from the annoyance that filled her body within a fraction of a second. She hated being scared.

"I just took the portkey from the base in lower France, but you still haven't answered my question" he replied with a chuckle before turning the chair she was sitting in earlier, towards her and taking a seat. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back to peak through the flap again.

"If you must know, I was speaking about the soldier I had just spoken to" she replied and Harry furrowed his brows in confusion. He sat up slightly and rested his arms on his thighs.

"A soldier spoke to you? Really? They said they must be more open-minded around here" he joked as he watched Hermione continue to stare out into the storm. He sighed softly and stood up as well, walking over to take a peak with her.

"Trust me, I've gotten more barrels in my face today than I'd like to experience in my whole life" she mumbled as she shivered slightly due to the temperature drop. Harry squinted slightly to see better in the darkness, and then he noticed something immediately.

"A woman? Ooo, does Hermione have a piqued interest in the enemy?" He teased and the liaison rolled her eyes at his childlike banter. Sometimes she just wanted to knock him to the ground just so his sarcastic jokes would take a backseat for a while.

"We talked for maybe two minutes, and don't even insinuate that I have any feelings towards the other side! Do you want me to be thrown in Azkaban for treason?" She asked quietly as her eyes darted around the tent at all their sleeping allies and Harry just rolled his eyes at her anxiousness.

"Whatever" he sings softly before plopping down on an empty cot. Hermione sighed in frustration at his nonchalant attitude, acting as if this whole war and situation were nothing to worry over.

Hermione took a deep breath and looked out at Y/n one more time, silently debating a question in her head. Should she, or should she not?

To be or not to be, that is the question.

With a few seconds of pacing, Hermione grumbled to herself as she snatched one of the umbrellas that was leaving against one of the support poles. It popped open almost immediately as she stepped back into the storm, and her eyes zipped back to Y/n.

"You'll catch a cold!" she called out once she was close enough to the border again, which just caused Y/n to jump again. Their eyes met through the onslaught of snow and dim streetlights.

"A cold? I think that's the least of my worries" Y/n replied, having to raise her voice because of how loud the wind was. Hermione chuckled and held the umbrella's handle just a little tighter.

"That is true, but to not even have the proper attire on is a little much" the brunette replied as she rocked from foot to foot, now starting to realize that she should really have thought of some conversation starters before she walked back over here. But maybe she was just nervous, and her causal responses had gone on vacation because of it.

"Sounds like you're trying to get me to leave my post" Y/n murmured, and Hermione stammered so bad, that she stuttered for a solid five seconds. The only thing that snapped her out of it, was the single thought that passed her consciousness.

TODAY WOULD BE NICE!

"Th-That-. Dammit! That's not what I was getting at!" She coughed out, and Y/n didn't even react to the humiliating ten seconds that would haunt Hermione's nights at random points in her life. Instead, the witch only noticed the smirk on the soldier's lips.

She stared at Y/n's side profile for a few seconds, deciding whether to yell at the enemy for the sake of her pride, or take the hit and turn in for the night out of shame. She opted for the latter, but yet, her legs stayed firmly planted where they were.

"That is not funny," she says and Y/n turns enough to catch the other girl's gaze, her smirk barely being held down, the evidence was by the twitching in the corners of her lips.

"I don't know, I enjoyed the way you reacted. It was like watching a baby dear trying to walk on ice" Y/n snickered and the witch coughed out what was almost a laugh, but it sounded more offended than anything.

"Are you trying to start the battle?" Hermione sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes for only a moment, just to clear her racing mind. But when she opened them again, she was greeted by the fact the Y/n now stood directly across from her.

She stepped back slightly out of habit but just as quickly returned her foot to where it was before. Hermione didn't know how Y/n was able to move that quickly, but now it was harder to see her face because the streetlights were behind both of them.

"I am a little bored," Y/n said, but the look in her eyes told the brunette that she was just teasing, and in all honesty, it felt good to hear someone joke about things again. It's not like either of them had a choice in the matter, it was WWIII after all.

When Hermione got her letter from the Ministry, telling her that she had been drafted, it took her through a loop. She was going to just hide out from the drafting, but when Ron made it his whole personality to become a soldier, that's when she and Harry had no choice in the matter.

They couldn't let him die, especially since he has a remarkable ability to run into danger without even realizing so. This is why they both are now begrudgingly on the front lines and why Hermione was even a part of this useless war.

The muggles were going to win, and that was obvious. Their weapons and sheer numbers were enough to destroy the Wizarding World if they kept losing people at this rate. Thankfully, she had heard rumblings of a plan to retreat and go back into hiding, and that's really the only thing they can do, and hopefully think of a way to make the world forget about them again.

"A little bored? You look as if you're about to jump out of your skin" Hermione laughed as Y/n rolled her eyes, but it was true nonetheless. Anyone would be spooked if they were a stone's throw away from the ones who were perceived to be their enemy.

"So do you" she replied and the brunette nodded in agreement since she knew that she was one loud noise away from booking it.

"You got me there," she said as her eyes shifted to the small pile of snow that lay on the brim of the soldier's hat, she was almost tempted to reach out and brush it away.

"So what brings you back over here anyways?" Y/n finally asks, her head tilting to the side for a moment, it seemed like a force of habit whenever she wanted to know the answer to something that intrigued her. Hermione didn't know the answer, sadly.

"Can't blame me for being bored as well, can you?" She asked in return and Y/n just smiled before scanning her eyes across the multiple tents that littered the street on the enemy front.

"I suppose not, it is a ghost town around here" Y/n mumbled before their eyes met again, and she noticed a faint scent of flowers that invaded her senses, as a howl of wind fluttered Hermione's hair in front of her and the cold air nips passed Y/n's bare face.

"You're a native of this country, correct?" The brunette asked and Y/n nodded, her shoulders relaxing as time went on, and Hermione's grip on her umbrella loosened as well.

It wasn't till the sun began to peak in the sky and the snow stopped, did their conversation finally ended, but they both knew that this wasn't the end of their interactions. It was far, far, from over.

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December 20th

It was the start of Y/n's shift, and when she stepped around the corner to walk towards her post, she was surprised to find a long line of people from around the town. They were talking quietly amongst each other, all facing towards the border with a suitcase or two in their hands.

"Oh, wow" she whispered under her breath as she slowly walked towards the front of the line.

"Y/l/n! Help me with these civilians!" A voice called out, and her eyes darted to find Ryland and a wizard setting up two planks of wood on both sides to help people walk over the border. Y/n quickly jogged over as Ryland nailed the last of the supports into place, before standing up.

"What's going on?" She asked quietly as she was handed a camera and a clipboard filled with the same form to be filled out multiple times. She was about to ask another question, but the younger boy quickly spoke before her.

"I need you to fill in the information on these people before they cross. We need to find them again once this battle is over" he whispered in her ear as the Wizard across the border gave a thumbs up to them when he finished building his side of the ramp.

"Right. Right. Got it" Y/n said as she took a deep breath, taking a pen out from her chest pocket, and stepping towards the little elderly couple just before her. They gave soft smiles, to which she gave one in return.

Hermione was asleep in the tent nearby, she had worked a double shift that night and had only gotten a few words in with Y/n during that whole time. She hated being a liaison sometimes, due to all the communication screenings she had to do when it came to communication between the village's needs and peace negotiations.

Also, the constant snowfall wasn't helping either during her jogs between the radio communications tent and the tent that was filled with higher-ups and their idiotic plans on how they could possibly take control of the town with minimal loss.

Newsflash, that wasn't possible.

"Hey, get up" Hermione somewhat heard as someone gently shook her shoulder, and she immediately snapped her eyes open in fright. She grasped the person's wrist, but then realized it was just Harry.

"Woah, it's just me," he says quickly. She takes a deep breath and pushes his hand off her shoulder, resting back on the cot and staring at the ceiling of the tent. It was dark out, and the only light was the few lamps and small furnaces around the shelter.

"The civilians are being brought over the border, they want you out there to make sure that everything stays calm between the exchanges," Harry says as he leans over to look down at her, she sighs and covers her face in a silent form of frustration.

"Of course, they need my help" she groans quietly before sitting up with a bit of strain. Her back was aching from being on her feet for so long last night, and she honestly just wanted to sleep for a few more hours. She was so drained.

"What time is it?" She grumbles as Harry decides to pour her a hot cup of coffee and hand it to her, then sits on the empty cot across from hers.

"Twenty past six" he replies as he looks at his watch, his eyes following the second hand as it traveled its sixty ticks around the watch face. Hermione's eyes flicker with intrigue before she hides her interest behind the sip of her coffee.

"Alright, I'll be out in a moment" she hums as she stands to freshen up in the women's facilities tent, but Harry's eyes zipped up to her with a small smirk on his face. She knew that look, and she was already rolling her eyes and groaning as he followed after her.

"You want to see your girl, huh?" He whispered in her ear as they walked out the back of the tent, and she scoffed, pulling her winter coat close to her as they shuffled through the snow.

"You are such a child, she just happens to be the only person with any interesting conversation in this place" she replied defensively as Ron ran up behind them, ringing his arms around their neck as he began to walk with them.

"I see your 'lover girl' is helping with the exchange" he chuckles as Harry snickers and pats his stomach as a silent 'hello'. Hermione glared at them both, before shaking off Ron's arm.

"How did you even know about her? You haven't even been here for a day!" She huffs as she steps into the women's facilities, and quickly stops them both from entering with her. She poked her head out from the flaps of the tent and smirked at their grinning faces.

"I swear, you two gossip more than the old bitties at the tea house. Anyway, I've only known her for eight days. Isn't that a little fast to call it love?" She asks as Ron scoffs and leans against Harry's side with his own. Hermione raised an eyebrow at his immediate dismissal.

"I've fallen in love for less. I once dated a girl because I liked the way she said 'Rutabaga'." He says with a nod and Harry thinks for a moment before turning to him with furrowed brows.

"Wait, was that Mandy? I liked her, she made amazing banana bread" he says and Ron looks back at him with eager agreement,

"I know right? I was thinking about calling her once this whole thing is over" he replies, before they both start reminiscing about Ron's ex, and in all honesty, Hermione doesn't even remember who they're talking about. So she just rolled her eyes and slinked away into the tent while they were distracted.

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Y/n yawned softly as she used her torch flashlight to continue to write down all the information about the citizens who were either leaving the country or just going outside of town. She was freezing still, but at least her commander was kind enough to find a coat that had been found in the collection bin. It was just thick enough to protect her from hypothermia, but she was still cold as all hell.

"Name?" She asks a young mother, who had her toddler bundled up on her hip. They both looked exhausted from just waiting in line for so long,

"Ruth Magryn, and Joan Magryn. Joan, wave to the nice soldier" she says with a tired smile as the little girl waves with a small giggle. Y/n grinned and gave the girl a quick tickle to her stomach, which made the kid laugh in excitement and hide her face in her mother's shoulder.

"Hello, Joan. May I know where you two are heading?" Y/n asked as she readied her pen by the 'location' box on the form, but before the mother could respond, a voice called over.

"Y/n!"

Her head snapped behind her, recognizing the voice almost immediately, and she broke out into a small grin when she saw Hermione standing there in a winter coat that looked a little bigger than her. She kinda looks like a kid wearing her parent's coat.

"Ryland, trade spots with me," Y/n said as she watched the young boy help a child over the border, and then immediately run over to take over her post. He took the cupboard and stuttered over his words as he greeted the mom and child.

"Ah, good afternoon Ms.Granger" Y/n said once she was close enough, and Hermione gave a soft laugh as she stepped to the border as well. Formalities? That's new.

"Ms.Granger? Have I done something wrong to be reduced to formalities?" She asks jokingly, even though a part of her brain is slightly panicked about it.

"No, I'm just teasing. How are you? I saw you running around all night yesterday" Y/n asks before she and Hermione help the mother over the border first, with Y/n holding the toddler who looks a little entranced with the soldier.

"Just running useless errands" Hermione sighs before smiling at the mother as she helps her down onto the other side.

"And who is this?" She says with a bit of a laugh as she and Y/n step onto both sides of the ramps, meeting each other in the middle.

Their eyes meet and they fall into a beat of silence as they are now less than an arm's length away. Hermione noticed the snow that was still caught in the crevices of Y/n's jacket, and Y/n noticed how Hermione's hair was slightly damp. She must have just taken a shower.

"Uh...oh! This is Joan" Y/n chuckles as she looks down at the toddler on her hip, before slowly passing the child over to Hermione, who Joan immediately greets her with a little laugh.

Their skin touched, and for only a moment, Y/n's cold fingertips ran against the side of Hermione's hand, and the brunette didn't know if she shivered from the cold or...

No. No! It was cold. This was her enemy, now wasn't the time to play the dating game. She took and deep breath and forced a smile as they both walked back onto their appropriate sides.

"Hello, Joan" Hermione greeted as she playfully shook her little hand before passing the child to her mother's arms. Hermione then pointed to Ron, who stood casually against the wall of a building nearby.

"That is my friend, Ron, he will take you where you need to go," she says before the mother gives a quiet 'thank you' and walks off with her suitcases.

"So, they had you running around all night for useless things? Sounds a bit like a waste of your resources" Y/n says as Hermione steps back towards the edge of the border, her arms crossed over her chest.

"My thoughts exactly" she grumbled before Y/n chuckled to herself, looking over to check on Ryland, who seemed to be as anxious as usual. He really needed to relax, she feared he'd start shaking like a chihuahua soon.

"Hey, can I ask you a completely hypothetical question?" Y/n asks quietly, which causes Hermione to lean in to hear a bit better.

"Let's say, we win the war. What will happen to you....guys? Yeah, you guys" She asks quietly, clearing her throat at the end, before meeting her gaze again. Hermione opened her mouth but shut it just as fast.

What should she say? What CAN she say?

"Well, uh...hypothetically, we'd probably go back into hiding" she whispered, hoping that putting her trust in Y/n won't bite her in the ass in the future.

"Alright, that makes sense...what about you? I'm guessing you'll go home back to London, right?" She asks and Hermione stiffens at the thought of her home, that now laid in ruins. Technically, she had no home to return to.

"No, it's best if I didn't," Hermione says quietly. Y/n furrowed her eyes in confusion, but before she could ask a single question, a large family emerged to be helped across.

That was the end of their conversation for the night, but this particular subject wasn't going to be forgotten.

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December 24th

Y/n stood at her post like usual, it was snowing again, but Y/n didn't mind it this time. It was Christmas snow, and it did make up for the lack of people and holiday cheer that was lacking in the town now.

It was only an hour until it was officially Christmas Day, and all this patrolling gave Y/n more than enough time to wallow about missing the holiday season with her family and traditions.  Then again, it wasn't all bad.

"Hungry?"

Y/n turned to find Hermione with two plates of food in her hands, both steaming with a feast of actual food. The MRE packets weren't bad, but they weren't the best either since she's been deployed here.

"Hell yes" Y/n sighed in relief as she walked over to the boarder and graciously took the paper plate and plastic fork. Hermione chuckled softly as she leaned against the wall of the building beside them, and began to eat quietly.

"Thank you, you didn't have to get me a plate" Y/n soon says in a quiet tone, but you could still see the smile that she tried to hide by taking a bite off of her plate.

"I wanted to" Hermione replied simply as they ate together in a comfortable silence, maybe only a minute went by before she decided to speak again.

"Have you spoken to your family? With the holidays and all?" Hermione finally asks, watching as the snowflakes melt from the steam before they hit the plate.

"I've gotten a few letters, but I don't really have time to call as much as I wish I could," Y/n says with a small hum as their eyes finally lock together, and Hermione gives a small smile.

"Well, at least you know they're thinking about you," she says and Y/n nodded in agreement, before leaning against the building as well.

"What about you? Has your family called?" The soldier asked.

"Yes, they called me just a bit ago to wish me a Merry Christmas" Hermione said as she poked at her glaze-covered steamed carrots. Y/n noticed the lack of energy in her response and hesitated for a moment.

"And?" She asked, and Hermione sighed softly.

"And...they wished I was home with them, that they didn't agree with what the Wizarding World was doing to their-...our world," she says as she takes another deep breath, since if she didn't control her breathing, she might cry.

"War has no good or bad side. There are only good and bad leaders" Y/n says and Hermione just chuckled to herself. If that wasn't the truth, then she didn't know what it was.

It was quiet again, both of them now almost halfway through their meals, and Hermione felt a bit of courage run across her soul. Which made her stand up slightly, but before she could ask Y/n something, the soldier spoke first.

"A few days ago, you said that you wouldn't return to London, hypothetically. How come?" Y/n asks and Hermione gives a soft laugh at her attempt to 'hide' their questions still. Nobody was even around to eavesdrop on them. But she'll play alone, just for the soldier.

"Well, hypothetically, if you had been a part of the whole battalion that invaded your hometown, would you want to go back?" She asks in return and Y/n's eyes widen before nodding in understanding. Hell, she probably would have been shot before she even crossed the border if she had done that.

"I see your point" she mumbled as there was another string of silence. They both stared back at their food and quietly finished what was left, and soon their empty plates began to catch the snow that fell from the heavens.

Hermione slipped her gloved hand into her pocket, and pulled out a copper pocket watch, popping it open to see that it was now 5 past 12. It was Christmas Day.

"Happy Holidays, Y/n," she says quietly as she shuts the watch and stuffed it back into her pocket. The soldier smiled to herself as she folded up the plate and threw away the grave in a nearby trash can...or a postal box? She couldn't really see that well in the darkness, and snow.

"Happy Holidays, Hermione" Y/n whispers back as she looks up at the cloud-covered sky for a moment, seeing deep purple ripples between the clouds, almost faint enough to miss if you weren't looking.

"Look, would you possibly...want to share a nightcap? With me? It is Christmas, after all," She added, just in case it wasn't obvious that this was a small invitation. To break the rules, just this once. It was a holiday, and she thought that it wouldn't hurt to have a 'Christmas Truce' between them. Hell, if it worked in 1914, then it could work now.

Y/n blinked in surprise before turning back to Hermione, almost missing her completely. If it wasn't for her silhouette, Y/n might have just ended up talking to a wall.

"A nightcap? Here?" She asks in return and Hermione's back tightens as she stands up straight, slowly walking over to the ramps that were still standing as a walkway over the border.

"Well, I was thinking of a tent nearby? If you just stripped your uniform, nobody would notice" she says quietly as her foot hits the side of the ramp, ever so gently. It was honestly a stupid idea, now that she thought about it. It was crazy to think that Y/n would ever willingly put herself in potential danger-

"Well, maybe just one drink" the soldier replied.

Hermione's eyes widened, and just for a split second, her heart was thrown off its rhythm. This is crazy, she thought. Then she cursed at herself silently for repeating what she already knew to be a fact.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asks, just in case the holiday spirit was messing with Y/n's mind as it was hers, but Y/n didn't even pay it any thought. Instead, she hid her jacket and helmet behind the lamppost, leaving in just a tank top and her military pants and boots.

"Hurry, before you freeze" Hermione laughed in a bit of disbelief as she dropped the plastic plate and fork in the snow. In the back of her mind, she felt bad about littering, but she didn't care that much at the moment. She'll pick it up tomorrow.

She held her hand out as Y/n balanced on the snow-covered bridge, their hands clasping together like magnets in the darkness. There was a sense of excitement as Y/n stumbled slightly onto the other side, making Hermione shush her with a small laugh.

Y/n laughed as well as she began to smile, their hands never disconnecting as Hermione pulled her into a small jog, sticking them close to shadows as they weaved through the spaces between the tents. Hermione would peer around corners and pull the soldier quickly once the coast was clear.

As they sneaked past the biggest tent, there was a bunch of people inside singing carols and drinking together. Hermione pressed her free hand to Y/n's chest, before slipping away from her grasp to slip into the tent herself.

Y/n kept herself in the shadows, shivering slightly, since she was still without her thermal coat. Too bad it made her a walking 'I'm your enemy' type since the colors of her country were on it.

Hermione returned a minute or so later, with an open bottle of wine under her arm and two dixie cups. She grasped Y/n's hand again, noting it was colder than before, and subconsciously picked up their pace.

They found a vacant tent, and Hermione sighed in relief since the furnace was still burning inside. Once Y/n stepped inside, it was more obvious how cold she was, the biggest indicator was the bright red nose.

"You look like Rudolph" Hermione chuckled to herself as she watched Y/n from the corner of her eye, who looked at her with a smirk. There was something about it that had Hermione fighting back a grin.

They both sat down on the two chairs near the furnace, Hermione poured some wine into the two cups and passed one to Y/n. Fingers brushed against skin again, but neither said anything about the flutter between them.

"I have to ask, what's it like to use magic?" Y/n asks quietly, since anyone who overheard them, would know she wasn't on their side in an instant.

"Honestly? It makes regular life a whole hell of a lot easier" she admits as she took a sip from her cup, it wasn't her favorite type of wine, but she didn't have many options.

"Must be nice...you mind casting a spell to do my laundry for me?" Y/n asks playfully, which makes Hermione do her quiet laugh, she leans forward slightly before her quick breaths make a few noises come out.

"Sure, after this is all done" she finally replied as she looked back at Y/n who was leaning back against the chair, her sole attention on Hermione. They both got quiet before the brunette found her bearings and took a quick intake of breath before finishing the last of her wine in the dixie cup.

It wasn't long until one nightcap, turned into two...then three. Before eventually the wine was gone, and their cheeks were rosy pink. They weren't drunk, but they were definitely a little more than tipsy. It was the sweet spot for the subconscious to take over while your conscious took the passenger seat, only piping in when they thought about saying something or doing something stupid.

"I can't wait for this whole thing to be over. I want to go back to simplicity" Y/n sighs as she rests her head against the top of the backrest, her hands interlaced flat against her stomach. Hermione sat beside her watching Y/n with a bit more intensity than either noticed, her arm on the top of her backrest and leaning her head against her knuckles.

"It'll be a while until both worlds return to normal" Hermione added and Y/n nodded in agreement, before sitting up fully to look back at her.

"When that happens, do you think you and I could...meet up? Maybe get dinner or something like that?" Y/n asks, and Hermione blinks in surprise, sitting up as well. They stared at one another as the witch fought the urge to pound on her chest as her heart fluttered like she would do to her old TV that would static at her old home all the time.

"Yes! I mean, uh, sure. I would like that." Hermione breathed out as they both leaned their elbows on their knees, faces too close for anyone to see it other than what it was. Pinning. Yearning. Hesitation.

Slowly, they moved closer. Both have a million thoughts running through their heads, but none of their concerns even fostered their movements. Y/n could smell that flowery perfume even better than that one time before, it was subtle. It was made to only be smelt by the wearer or someone close enough to touch her skin. It was addicting.

Hermione eyes fluttered closed as the distance between them was about to disappear, wondering if this was too soon. If the 'maybe' outweighed the risks. If Y/n could be more than a fun thrill.

But it didn't matter.

Because the air raid sirens began to blare.

[go-go-devil]

So who else knew that Count Dracula and Harry Mason share the same voice actor?

[obliviouscxnt]

Control Azriel x Reader

a/n: I'm so lost, i don't know what I'm doing. Still learning how to use tumblr but in the meantime, welcome to the first fic i feel like posting.

synopsis: feyre's growing curiosity about you sparks some personal questions.

Warnings: mentioned SA, fluff, hints of sexual activities

pt.2 | pt.3

One of the first friends Feyre made in the Night Court was you. You reminded her of the twin wraiths in a way. Never saying much, if anything at all. Maybe that was one of the reasons she liked you so much. 

You didn’t need to talk to enjoy each other’s presence. Feyre had as much fun sitting in silence with you as she did on a night out with Mor. 

But as time passed, as Feyre became a constant in the Night Court, she had grown curious. She wanted to know more about you like she did the others. 

So she started asking you questions, and to her surprise, you would answer her. Your answers weren’t clipped, or vague. You never sounded annoyed with her, you were completely open and honest with her. 

“How long have you known everyone?” Feyre had asked while you gently played with her hair, her scalp tingling at your touch. 

You thought about it for a moment. “Over two hundred years now.” 

She tilts her head, so apart from her you were the newest member of the inner circle. “How did you meet?” She asks, shivering as the tingles travel down her spine.

You start braiding a few small strands from the front of her face as you speak. “My kind are far different from other Fae.” Feyre practically perks up at the words. She knew you weren’t high fae but she never bothered saying anything about it, she barely even noticed it most of the time not nearly enough to warrant a discussion. “They hail from no court, and bow to no lord, not even the Mother is with their thoughts.”

Feyre tried to imagine what that would be like, how they would act, what traditions they’d carry. She thought of your features, the ones that stood out among other high fae. Your ears didn’t point, your nails were like claws, and your teeth bore long sharp canines on both the top and bottom of your mouth, but the features that stood out the most were the ones you kept hidden. 

Feyre saw them once, your wings. The first time she met you. Like they were just there for a formal introduction. They were big, beautiful, and intricate. They looked like moth wings, and fluttered like them too. Opening and closing slowly when you were lax.

Immediately when Feyre saw them, she felt like painting again, she could barely keep her eyes off them, barely keep herself from reaching out a hand to touch them. Maybe that was the reason for their absence in the next visit; all that remained of the glorious appendages was precise ink that lined the whole of your back, a tattoo of folded wings. 

From the way they folded, they almost formed a natural cape. She wondered how far your tattoo ran, the extravagant fabrics of the dresses you wore only showed so much. 

She pictured a whole colony of people that looked like you and immediately felt like painting again.

“It’s why nobody can do anything about their backward ways, they listen to nobody but themselves. Believe no one but themselves.” All preconceived thoughts of your people turn sour with your words. 

“The things they’ve done, they still do…” You release a shaky breath as you finish the small braids and set them aside.

Feyre turns to look at you when your delicate hands part with her hair. She finds you sorting through a box of hair ornaments, but your eyes are clouded. Not even the most glorious of diamonds could shine through that fog. “You don’t have to...“ 

You blink out of your daze and wave her off as you pull out a few gem-encrusted pins and show them to her. Waiting for her to give you a nod of approval before pulling out a stunning bejeweled silver comb and repeating the same process. Your collection was truly marvelous. 

“When I was saved, it was my first Flowering Night.” You spoke the words with barely concealed bitterness. “A night where all mature unpaired females are sent into the woods for any participating males to hunt down and take as they please.” 

You tuck back the small braids with the sparkling pins. Feyre listened as you continued, she wanted to say something but what would she say?

“No one could run very far from our community, the woods of the Middle hold no mercy. It was either hide and hope you make it till dawn without being spotted by a male. Or die to the other horrid creatures that live in those woods.” 

Feyre’s heart ached for you, her sorrow a tangible thing able to be smelt in the air. And you squeezed her shoulder, you comforted her. Her sorrow only increased. You never deserved any of it.

“I chose the latter.” You carefully place the comb into her hair, finding it in yourself to smile at the final product. You still fiddle with a few strands until you feel pleased. “A close encounter with death led to the discovery of my gift,” 

Dreamwalker, Rhys had called you.  An ability so rare even Helion’s exquisite library had very little information on it. 

Feyre loosely understood that you could enter another person's dream. Could manipulate it as you wish, to serenity or to a blood-curdling nightmare. But what made you so powerful, what made you such a valuable asset to the Night Court was your ability to bring dreams to life. All manner of dreams. 

However, your ability was sparsely used for court matters, and only necessary people knew of it. You were their trump card. Something nobody would see coming. 

Feyre would never forget the time you had a nightmare, sending half the court in preparation for battle. She’d also never forget the way Azriel had fought off the nightmare incarnate to get to you. How he charged forward without an ounce of hesitation. While Rhys had stood protectively in front of Feyre, and Cassian’s siphons flared from beside her, providing a shield around them.

Feyre had realized then that Azriel would go to hell and back for you. 

Feyre turns to face you, to look you in your enchanting eyes now that you are finished playing with her hair. “I was barely a woman, I didn’t know the first thing about defending myself. I didn’t know what this gift was.” She watched you raise a hand, small stars forming and trailing your fingers, blinking and shimmering as you played with them. “What good is a gift this powerful if you don’t know what to do with it? It’s as good as a broken blade.” 

Feyre’s breath leaves her body when you pull down the shoulder of your elegant emerald gown, revealing a long jagged scar running diagonally across your chest. The skin puffed up from how deep the gash was. “I would’ve died if it weren’t for Azriel.” 

The high fae’s eyebrows raise ever so slightly. 

“He heard me screaming. And he came for me.” You pull the shoulder back up and smile. Actually, smile. Feyre had never known someone like you, someone able to flip such a horrid memory around. Someone so able to pick out the good amongst the bad. “It wasn’t until a century later that I finally accepted his invitation to the Night Court and met everyone else.”

Feyre found herself grabbing your hand and squeezing. So grateful you had accepted his invitation. 

You squeeze back. 

“You’re so strong.” Feyre says, furrowing her brows when you laugh like she had told a joke. 

“It wasn’t strength that led me here, Feyre.” You tell her. Once again she wanted to paint you, but she felt like she wouldn’t be able to do you justice. “It was fate.”

A knock sounds at the door. 

“Come in.” Feyre calls and you both look to the opening door. Two incredibly attractive Illyrian men stand at the doorway. 

Rhys smiles at the sight of you two, eyes raking over the hairstyle you’d given Feyre. “You look lovely, Feyre darling.” Her face heats as you smile in triumph. 

“Say goodnight.” Comes Azriel’s voice in that tone he only used on you. 

You obey his command without a second thought, giving Feyre a light hug and giving Rhys a small bow before scurrying toward Azriel’s waiting arm. 

You fall into step with him as his hand lands on your lower back. But before the two of you could disappear you tug on his shirt, prompting him to stop only long enough for you to turn back toward Feyre and say a final goodnight. “Dream well Feyre!” Then he continued leading you away to your shared chambers. 

The mated pair watch you two travel away. Rhys with a look of content for you and his brother. Feyre with a new curiosity. 

She couldn’t help but be curious about the dynamic you and Azriel had. The way that dynamic bled into the interactions you had with your friends. How you always asked for permission before doing something and always jumped up whenever anyone asked you to do something. Rhys seemed to catch on to that curiosity. 

He decided to save you the embarrassment of Feyre asking you herself. He had enough of an understanding of you to know when something would make you uncomfortable, no matter how much you said otherwise. 

You’d always answer any questions asked of you openly and honestly, whether you wanted to or not. It was one of the reasons many were at first against your visits with Feyre, himself included. The newly turned fae was far too oblivious to your situation to recognize when she was taking advantage of your obedience. But you assured Rhysand repeatedly that Feyre never bothered you with her questions. That you enjoyed her presence just as much as she, hopefully, enjoyed yours. 

Much to everyone’s delight, Feyre regarded you with gentleness and awe from the very start. It was the effect you had on people. It was the reason Azriel didn’t put up a fight about leaving your visits unsupervised.

“[name] was raised by cruel people, they taught her that in a relationship the male's word is law. Her people think a female is expected to give up any and all control to her male. It’s one of the few things she never was able to condition herself out of, Azriel helps her by providing that control she needs.” 

Feyre thinks about that, face heating at the images it created. She wondered what that would be like, to surrender herself completely. “So if he told her to jump off the nearest bridge…?” 

“She’d do it, with zero hesitation.” 

Rhys smirks, knowing glint in his eyes as his gaze runs over the blush that coated her face. 

“But he’d never ask something like that of her. He knows her inside out, knows when something is too much or not enough.” He steps closer to her, delighting in the way her breathing picks up. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think your interest in this topic was more than innocent curiosity.” 

“Well, do you?” Feyre asks, making his eyes narrow. “Know any better?” 

Rhys’s gaze becomes dark. “Nope.” 

****

“Did you enjoy your time with Feyre?” You sigh at his voice, the comfort it brings you. You find yourself leaning into him, and he allows it. 

“It was nice.” You say truly. It felt like it was easier to breathe now that Feyre had more of an understanding. “She asked about how we met.” 

The hand on your back pulls you closer to him as if he were remembering that day. Remembering what you looked like as that hideous creature held you down, slicing into you. The way you flinched away from him after he’d slayed the creature. The sheer dress that you wore, If it could even be called that. He could still picture everything so vividly. 

How you eventually submitted to him, and how that made him sick. How he carried you out of the Middle and into the lands of the Night Court, never taking you into the cities. How for the next century after that he would visit you at the little private cabin only he and his brothers knew about, how he took care of you, and how he grew to love you. How you grew to love him in return.

He shoves those thoughts into the back of his mind as he opens the door to your shared chambers, walking you inside before shutting the door behind you. 

His hands move to your shoulders while he guides you to sit on the edge of the large bed, big enough to fit at least three winged beings. Hands brushing down your body as he kneels before you, settling on your ankle. He brings your foot up and rests it on his thigh before slowly unraveling the straps of your heel. Once finished he continued with the right heel, his touch nothing but confident from years and years of practice. 

A hand pats your thigh, letting you know he’s finished. Your eyes trail him as he heads toward the bathroom, you’d be happy to just look at him for the rest of your immortal life. 

You help Azriel, though he had no problem doing it for you, by taking off your jewelry one by one, setting each extravagant piece on the nightstand. By the time you're done Azriel’s waiting for you next to a full bath.

“Come.” He beckons from beside the large clawfoot tub. Hand outstretched and waiting for you. 

You saunter toward him, sighing as you let your brain just rest. Let him do everything for you. 

His hands are strong, and gentle, and secure all in one as they guide you out of your gown, his clothes following not long after. You sigh as he brings you into the tub. Positioning you so you sat between his legs, back to his front. 

Your eyelids slowly fall shut, coaxed by his soothing touch. Feeling nothing but content when he pushed your head back to lay on his shoulder, a gentle kiss pressed against your temple.

You were soon in a state of barely there, just teetering on the side of sleep but awake enough to move when he told you to. 

“Lean forward.”

His hands rub up and down your back, cleaning and massaging the skin there. You shudder in pleasure and he hums soothingly. Like cooing at a pet. You straighten up a bit when he taps the marked skin a few times, moving forward just enough for your wings to slowly peel away from your back. What was once ink on your skin, now real moving wings. 

“Spread.” And you do so, wings unfolding and stretching out completely. 

You shiver as his hands brush against them, making them twitch both away and toward him. As if they couldn’t decide whether the feeling it brought you was too much or not enough.

As always Azriel handled them with utmost care, humming when small noises of pleasure escaped you. When he was finished he tapped your shoulder to let you know, but you were too tired to summon the magic needed to conceal them.

Though, not tired enough to remember it was his turn. 

Slowly with lethargic movements, you turn to face him. Wings folding up again, forming a natural cape on your back. “Can I-“ You begin but catch yourself before you can finish. His narrowed eyes crinkled into a smile. Happy he no longer had to remind you of such a simple fact. 

Don’t ask to touch what is yours.

So instead you reach for the soap in his hands and begin to wash him. Taking satisfaction in the way his wound-up muscles, tense from hours of work, relaxed under your touch. The way his hands rested on your hips, squeezing every now and then appreciatively. The hums that left his mouth, no longer with the intent to soothe you but to let you know how pleased you made him. 

Your touches became increasingly distracted, sleep slowly leaving your system as your mind filled with nothing but him. 

He smirks, a mix of amusement and attraction. Allowing his own touches to become less innocent. His hands move to wrap around your wrists, dragging your hands down, down, and down his body. Soap long ago discarded. 

“Touch me.” He commands. 

And nothing could keep you from satisfying him. 

next→

[rwbyrg]

If it's alright, I'm just curious, do you have any thoughts of your own or theories about Oscar or Ruby or both of them in terms of v10? To add, do you have any theories for the merge and how it will end up for both Oscar and Ozpin? Like will it be a good or bad thing? Sorry if these questions seem vague lol

Of course it's alright to ask! I do have many thoughts and a handful of theories. I'll admit most of them are wishful thinking since there's truly no way to tell where the story will go until it actually happens. But if I were to distill it to the ones I'm most expecting and why, then I'd probably say:

Expansion on Ruby's solo arc that kicked off in V9

Acknowledging the setups (plural) between Ruby and Oscar's arcs

The merge-curse is eventually broken (blame the allusions)

I'll elaborate a bit below.

1. Expanding on Ruby's Arc

What we saw Ruby go through in V9 is very much not the end of that particular plot line, imo. We saw a bit of this in Justice League: Part 2 and the final ep of RWBY Beyond where she talks to Clark and Yang about her struggles a bit. Ruby needs to learn how to both ask for and accept help from those around her so the weight of everything she's carrying doesn't crush her. Especially now when they're down to the wire and she's come back as a resurrected martyr who's face has been used at the centre of the resistance movement she's now helping to lead. How will she live up to the expectations and pressures of that impossible pedestal when she's only a human girl with very normal knees who's barely keeping it together? Also, while I don't know exactly how they're going to address everything she experienced, and I struggle to imagine her speaking about Neo's Horror House to anyone directly... that sort of trauma doesn't just go away once it's over. So I would be very surprised if the effects of it didn't ripple throughout the remaining chapters of the show. Especially when every other member of RWBY has seemingly had the bulk of their main character arcs already. It's long overdue for Ruby to get that time in the spotlight. Which does sort of lead into my next point...

2. Acknowledging the Setups in Ruby and Oscar's Dynamic

For starters, we've got the merge and ascension parallels to address. Ruby and Oscar have always mirrored each other's issues around identity, choice, fear, responsibility, leadership, etc., and this buildup seems to be coming to a head following V9. From Oscar's "I'm just going to be another one of his lives, aren't I?" to Ruby's "What if you could be anyone?", and how the two of them will relate to each other in light of those contrasting - but similar - experiences. Especially with Ruby having just come back from the tree to find Oscar fighting against the merge harder than ever before. But we also have their attachments to each other to sort out as well. Ruby and Oscar have been watching each other's backs in different ways since V5, their reunion hug in V8 was interrupted where no other "pairing's" was, and they were the only "pairing" still to be split up between the Ever After and Remnant. Not to mention that, while they were separated, Ruby was pushed to a breaking point after being shown an illusion of losing Oscar, while Oscar was back in the real world eulogizing about how he lost Ruby. CRWBY doesn't setup relationship parallels and focuses as intensely and intentionally as this without pay off at some point.

Again, while the specifics are nearly impossible to predict, I'm expecting a bit of a Dojo Scene Reprise, heart-to-heart of sorts, and/or, something that puts those attachments to the test. My immediate thought is that this test will finally push Oscar to unlocking his semblance since getting shot, falling from Atlas, being kidnapped, and tortured were all not enough to make it happen. (Although my wishful thinking is that it unlocks in a happier moment, I think that's much less likely.)

If I were to engage in pure speculation on this, my easiest bet is that it will come at the hands of Tyrian. When our Little Prince was first introduced, it was almost as if he was waking from a nightmare of that villain laughing with glee at the opportunity to hunt down a certain rose. And with this being the Vacuo arc with Ruby and Oscar getting a lot of focus, and Tyrian already on the prowl within the kingdom, it would make a lot of sense. The little prince fated to have a confrontation with a venomous antagonist in the desert over his attachment to a rose is about as textbook as it gets. (I could also see it go to Cinder or being delayed until they follow through on the threat of Ruby being kidnapped by Salem, if that's the route they decide to take. But again we'll have to wait and see how it plays out.)

3. Oscar and the Merge

I'm not entirely sure where they're headed with this one between now and the resolution... but I do think the resolution itself will otherwise be a happy one, if not bittersweet. RWBY is a story about breaking cycles, and Oz has been part of one of the longest on Remnant since the very beginning. Pairing that with this show being, ultimately, a happy story, as well as a looking at two of Oscar and Oz's shared allusions, I can only imagine they will be separated by the end.

The first allusions to mention are from The Marvelous Land of Oz. Princess Ozma (aka Oscar) is the rightful heir to the kingdom and next in line to take over when it's time for the wizard to retire. It's very clear that - however this plays out - Oscar is the final incarnation. Typically, when one ruler leaves the throne that's it. They're gone. Oz has fiddled with Remnant's history for countless millennia now in his endless fight against Salem. When the dust settles and it's time for Remnant to rebuild, it should be up to the new generation to take charge without his influence from "the old world" in the mix.

From a Little Prince lens - for those unfamiliar with the book - the aviator (aka Oz) spends much of the story waffling about the little prince he is stranded with in the desert... only to be very sad when his new friend leaves him behind to go home to the stars. RWBY is already subverting this story a bit with Oscar being the one wanting to be rid of his pilot instead of the other way around. If I were to guess how the show will carry this further, it would be that Oz moves on, but perhaps with some lingering attachment on either (or both) sides. Maybe a bit of a "all this time I wanted it to end, but now that it's finally happening, I wish I (you) didn't have to go".

At least that's what seems to make sense to me, thematically speaking. Oscar will be irreversibly changed by these events even if he is freed from the curse, however. There is no question about it. Because that is what the Hero's Journey is all about.

The hero leaves their farm and they fall through a new world. It is both horrifying and exciting in equal measure. And throughout it all they are changed by the experiences they have and the people they meet - both good and bad, within their control and outside of it. And when the quest is finally over, there is grief. Because you are not the same person you were when you left home, and you can never truly return to what you had and who you were before it all happened.

This is also, coincidentally, just what it means to grow up. Which - while not the only one, and certainly not unique to Oscar's arc alone - has always been one of the loudest allegories hiding within the merge to me. We meet and know people, we don't always have a say in how long they can stay and how they change us... and then one day they are gone, but their influence and our memories of them stay with us. And then, as RWBY has taught us since the very beginning, we keep moving forward despite it all.

( @creatoriamari tagging you here just in case to make sure you get the notif because I don't know if it still works if I saved the ask as a draft. 🙇‍♀️)

[pixelkip]

Aight. It's Annello time.

SO my interpretation of Annello has a slightly different backstory from the semi-official one given by Rageminer. They still fuse the same way, with Annie showing up after Garcello dies but is still hanging around as a ghost, she runs up and reaches out for him and. Yea.

A big difference in mine though is that the fusion isn't as much physically painful as it is uh,, mentally. Once they fuse both.. I guess sides?? of them are terrified and confused. Once they even realize what happened they're understandably fuckin horrified. Mostly because.. it technically means the 2 won't really see each other ever again

I say this cause.. while I might refer to them acting more like Annie or garcy, it's not a situation of 2 consciousnesses (is that even a word hell if I know) existing simultaneously, but just one with personality traits and memories of both. Sure, they can recognize what parts of them come from who, but they still are just one.

It also takes them a while to really be able to function again. Their highly conflicting personality traits can make it really hard for them to make decisions and the energetic-ness from Annie and anxiety from Garcello don't exactly mix nicely. They are simultaneously not used to being so energetic and highly emotional from Garcy's side, and not used to being so anxious and tired from Annie's side. They have a lot of moments where Annie's impulsivity kicks in, they do something kind of foolish and immediately wonder wait why the hell did I do that??

They also probably talk to themself a lot. Both cause they sometimes need to do that to get their thoughts in order and cause they're lonely :[

They eventually start sorting themself out though (but also with my version of them they at least have lil Rascal with them, since for me she and Annie would've had a sibling-rivalry type relationship that would carry over to annello, but that's probably a post for another day)

So. I imagine their actual personality being a slightly ominous goofball. I say ominous because come the fuck on they have both the Annie chaos and the garcy calm chill guy demeanor. Do u see what I'm going for here. They're gonna take Garcy's mysterious dude in the alleyway thing and take it to the next level by actually seeming like theyre totally up to something. They can go from tired bastard to bouncy ball of mischief within seconds. I think they'd start to lean into how they seem weird and unpredictable, since it's something about them they really can't change, might as well embrace it.

I imagine them kind of speaking with kind of a sweet but sly tone while also sounding very calm and quiet. Unlike their 1 official voice line, I hc that their voice can shift between sounding more like Annie or garcello, with it naturally changing depending on how they feel or what they're trying to convey. They could also consciously change it but they can't perfectly mimick one or the other. If they're excited or shouting though, that's how you get then speaking with both voices at the same time.

Ok that's mostly it for their character but there's a few more lil details that didn't really fit in this whole explanation so here's a few more things I came up with, sometimes with inspo from people on discord:

- since they're a fusion of a very much alive Annie and a ghost garcy, annello is half-ghost. For a while they'd randomly phase through things accidentally before they learned to get it under control. Might also allow them to dissappear at will. Because fuck you I think that's fun and cool

- said half-ghost thing also lead to an agreement that Hiroari Shoots A Strange Bird ~ Till When? is annello boss fight theme. Though, I also heavily associate them with Hartmann's Youkai Girl too. Fuck I can't avoid bringing up touhou every chance I get god dAMMIT FU

- oh on the topic of songs that fit my version of them. Deathbody by Ghost and Pals and The Ballad of Jane Doe from Ride the Cyclone

- I'm not sure if I'm keeping this now but i feel like it's worth adding, I had an old liquid form design for annello where they were more of a vapor-y ghost monster instead

- they have a bit of claustrophobia, both cause of their memory of dying in a small alley but also because they are significantly taller than the 2 goobers were, everything they're familiar with like their apartment and such feels smaller to them.

-oh yea. They're taller than even garcello was. I imagine them at like 6'5-7 ft tall

- they are the epitome of 2 idiots does not make a smart person. It makes an ominous but awkward airheaded dingus

- despite them being all weird and shit they're a complete fucking softie. I don't need to explain why with these 2 goobers it should be obvious

- for a good while after they fused they dressed like a complete fucking mess since they didn't know how the fuck they wanted to dress. This is what happens when u have the fashion taste of an emo furry and a man who'd wear pajamas 24/7 if it was socially acceptable

- they have fangs, but unlike Annie that's the only part of their teeth that are still sharp. Even so, garcys influence means they still feel awkward having them, so the fangs cause them to sometimes speak with a bit of a lisp

- still kibby just a really fuckin weird one

That's all. Have some doobles of the silly and uhh stan annello or perish

[hephaestuscrew]

Assorted Thoughts about the Greater Boston Season 4 finale

I'd assumed that Leon would 'move on' at the end of Season 5, the end of the podcast as a whole. But now we're going to have a whole season of the podcast without him. It's strange to imagine. There's never been a Greater Boston podcast without Leon Stamatis. There's never been a city of Red Line without Leon Stamatis. We began Season 1 confronting the gap that Leon left behind. We learned that he wasn't quite as gone as we might have thought, but there was still the loss, the grief, the consequences of his death. In an interesting narrative symmetry, at the beginning of Season 5 we'll have to confront him being more fully, completely gone. But I think we'll continue to see the ways in which his life and afterlife have rippled outwards.

~~

Immediately after Nica said Leon had brought people together "like a family", Louisa exclaimed that she needed to call Michael. I can't help wondering if it was Nica's comment that triggered that thought for Louisa. I'm emotional about Michael being family for Leon, Michael being family for Louisa, Michael being someone who was brought into Louisa's life by Leon…

~~

There were two moments of Nica and Dimitri sitting with Gemma in the middle of them holding the crystal ball. First, in the back of Lucia's car, when Nica reached out to touch the ball and Dimitri took her hand instead. Second, on the Ferris wheel as they prepared to say goodbye to Leon. Leon was in the middle between his two siblings - he is what divides them and he is what unites them. They held hands over him, finding awkward togetherness in the presence of their loss, stopping each from succumbing to that loss. Leon was in the middle between his two siblings, but he also wasn't; it was Gemma occupying that space for him.

On a related note, I can't help but wonder whether the Stamatis siblings had habitual positions when they'd sit in the back of a car together as children. I think that's a fairly common sibling thing, and it seems likely that it would appeal to the order-loving Leon. I can't decide if it makes me more emotional to imagine that they usually sat with Leon in the middle like that, or to imagine how they sat on that ferris wheel wasn't their typical childhood order.

~~

The lack of narration and the high number of monologues from a range of characters this episode meant that sometimes I wasn't initially sure whether a scene was an interview snippet from a real person or a monologue from a character. I think there's something significant in that blurring of reality and fiction, in real stories of loss mixed with the fictional. Those interviewees are a part of this story, or this story is a part of our world too.

~~

I loved Michael's mantra being spoken by the group, with each person taking one word. For Michael, that sequence of numbers was a way of asserting his own agency in spite of circumstances and his ideas about his nature. It was a way of saying 'my choices matter, even if I can't change the outcome'. And this moment showed how that idea can be upheld within through community and togetherness.

Michael spoke the word "Eight". And perhaps he wanted other people to take over, trusting that the people around him would complete his mantra, believing that they'd understand what he needed in that moment. Or perhaps he was intending to speak the mantra by himself until Louisa interrupted to support him. Either way there's a uniquely powerful kind of choice made against an indifferent world - the choice for people to stand against that world together. It's a contrast with Michael's often self-isolating tendencies for that mantra to become a shared thing.

[fuckmeyer]

My favorite thing about the Jasper/Maria ship, dynamic, or whatever is how complicated and mysterious they are, like we don’t know much about them but what we DO know speaks to something deeper going on that isn’t quite explored. Like they make each other worse but they also make each other BETTER! It’s insane to think about really. Everyone’s usually like “they make each other worse!” but you’re like the only person to point out just how much they also make each other better and your points are so solid it got me thinking!

Like it’s honestly crazy to think about how they’re both in such bad circumstances and they’ve done bad things together; but there’s also the fact that they’re so tender and forgiving towards each other, how much they’ve learned from each other (especially from Confederate!Jasper’s side considering he had a LOT to learn/unlearn), and how they made each other stronger, smarter, etc.. while being from two completely different worlds yet they met and bonded through a similar core experience: War.

They became winners together after having lost so much before and they both chose each other naturally. Jasper could have chosen to follow Lucy or Nettie at any time but he chose Maria and he knew from the moment he met them that she was the special one, the leader. “It was immediately clear that the brunette was somehow in charge of the others. If they'd been military, I would have said that she outranked them.”

Maria was able to pick apart his compelling nature and knew he would be special/useful to her too, that’s why she chose to keep him and changed him herself bc one of the others said they were more likely to kill him. She probably didn’t expect to develop feelings for him later down the line but that’s for another conversation lol. They met by chance and they chose each other. They saw something.

I think both characters know this deep down and that’s why they still have some leftover feelings for each other. To me it’s the only thing that explains their out-of-character behavior towards each other. Like come on there’s no way Jasper is just thinking and talking about Maria like that if she didn’t still have an impact on him and there’s no way Maria’s just randomly thinking of him enough to want to find and visit him if he didn’t have some sort of impact on her too.

That speaks to so much potential between them. If they were so powerful and successful and hung-up on each other in the unfortunate situations they were in, imagine how powerful and strong they’d have been if they were in better circumstances. It gives me such a “right person, wrong time” feeling with them. Idk just my thoughts. You seem like the only person I can share these with lol.

- same anon btw

ANON it's wonderful to see you in my inbox again!!! you know i'm always here for Loving María Hours 🥰

you're right, there's so much deeper shit going on between Jasper & María, it's kinda crazy that all these other characters/ships get so much more attention when Jasper/María literally have a built-in story! (no hate to those who create content on minor characters ofc — we're all out here doing the lord's work LMAO)

you really hit it on the head. like the fact that their story is so "evil" and their characters are so "bad" speaks to the gentleness and goodness that obviously came out of their relationship considering Jasper is now a vegetarian Cullen freak. & the idea that the external conflict (war) is used as a vehicle AND as a symbol for their own internal conflicts & the thematic discussion at hand?!?!?! THE STORY 👏 WRITES👏 ITSELF👏👏👏

bro ofc Jasper followed María!! bad bitches only. & at the end of it all Lucy & Nettie AINT SHIT! they betrayed their covenmate! smh. tbh it spoke volumes that she had no problem killing them YET took so long (& ultimately did not) kill Jasper. girl can sniff betrayal from a mile away & even though she let the paranoia get the best of her, in the end she didn't let it control her 😇 it's not a perfect cutesy HEA, but dammit if it's not GROWTH

only semi-related, but the fact that Jasper mentions she had a good judge of character, and the fact that she seemed to look specifically for humans who would be gifted/powerful, makes me wonder if she didn't have some sort of gift herself. i like to think that Nettie & Lucy didn't betray her bc of something she did but rather bc they simply couldn't cope with the way María always chose Jasper & her country above all. María's gift is that she sees the good & the strength & value in people. even when they don't see it in themselves. war is simply not a good medium for people to reach their full potential...& once María draws it out of them, they discover want more for themselves than what death & violence can give them. in Nettie & Lucy's case, they lash out bc they assume they will never live up to María's vision. in Jasper's case, he defects so he can live up to the person she sees in him ❤️ María's weakness is she gets so focused on her mission she gets tunnel vision, so these are all seen to her as betrayals

but i imagine María realizes this down the road & works on healing herself instead of her country. obviously the Southern Wars haven't gotten out of control, & wtf does Jasper know about the South's situation after his 150-year absence? maybe the fact that she hasn't gotten herself in trouble lets him know that she's more focused these days on looking out for herself, finding potential within instead of working in vain to fix something that can realistically never be repaired in the way she always dreamed. & that's ok :)

all he knows is she's got a softer side & that he's rooting for her on her own journey to healing, & he will always wish her well 😌

TLDR TRUE TRUE, ANON. right person, wrong time.

all hail María ❤️

[clericofshadows]

big place!

Description: Kaidan, Ashley, and Regis take in the Ctiadel's sights, and Ashley ends up gaining some interesting information about her new crew.

Paring: Regis Shepard/Kaidan Alenko

“Big place!” Kaidan exclaimed, looking out over the nebula view of the Citadel.

Regis smiled, standing behind him and Williams, watching the traffic go by.  Never change, Kaidan.

Williams turned her head to look over at Kaidan.  “That your… professional opinion, sir?”

Regis coughed to hide his snort, but given the glance Kaidan gave him, he didn’t do a very good job of it.  “I don’t see how they can keep tabs on all this.  The Presidium might as well be on another planet.”

“There is definitely a gap between their presentation and what’s here,” Kaidan observed.  “Tracking arrivals must be a nightmare.”

“This makes Jump Zero look like a porta-john, and it’s the largest deep space station the Alliance has,” Williams chimed in, looking around.

“Jump Zero was big, but this is a whole nother scale. Look at those ward arms!  How do they keep all that mass from flying apart?” Kaidan leaned in closer against the railing.

“I’d love to find out, honestly,” Regis said, crossing his arms behind his back.  “But you won’t catch me living here anytime soon.  I imagine they’re careful with newcomers.”

“I don’t think it’s for me, either, but you can’t deny the allure.  They probably just want to keep everything running,” Kaidan replied.  “It has to be hard keeping all these cultures working together.”

“Or maybe they just don’t like humans,” Williams muttered.  Ah, interesting.

He knew there was a reason he liked her, but now he had a more tangible reason.  Someone more skeptical of the council, willing to speak up against the common opinion, not immediately staying quiet.  Good.

But Regis had to play with her a bit.  “Why not?  We’ve got oceans, beautiful men, this emotion called love…” He glanced at Kaidan.  “According to the old vids, we have everything they want.”

“Wait, beautiful men?” Williams turned around so she was facing him, leaning against the barrier.  “Well damn, I didn’t expect you to be so open out in the field.”

Regis shrugged.  “Not really a secret to me.  Couldn’t resist.”

“And when you put it that way, there’s no reason why they wouldn’t like you,” Kaidan said, moving to stand closer to Regis.  Not quite touching, but not exactly far enough apart to call it friendly.  Testing the waters. 

A bold move from Kaidan, but also not unlike him. Kaidan wasn't afraid to be open about their relationship, but it still surprised Regis a bit to see him toe the fraternization line.

Williams tilted her head to the side, looking at the two of them with narrowed eyes.  “Hold on, I’m missing something here.”

Regis pressed a finger to his lips and winked.  “You’re smart, Chief.  You can figure it out.”

“Damn!  Mighty bold of you two,” she said, giving them an appraising look.  Not one of judgment, but rather one of approval.  “With a mission like this, how the hell did you keep it under wraps?  The way you two fought together on Eden Prime, I figured you had years of service history.”

No words spoken between them on Eden Prime, a quiet colony turned battlefield in a blink of an eye.  A connection gained by years of learning each other through biotics, testing new mnemonics and stretching the limits of what the gravity well can do.    Combining skills to break through the walls of geth, tech hacks breaking down shields before blasting them away with a Throw.  Singularities formed by Kaidan’s strong control were wrecked apart by Regis’s powerful Warps.  Kaidan’s Pulls making perfect targets for Regis’s sniper. Williams was a great asset to have on the field, and her marksman skills blended well with their biotics.  But this was an opportunity that the lovers hadn’t had yet in their Alliance career beyond shore leaves and rare moments training together, choosing to forge their own paths apart in the service. Knowing each other beyond just years of understanding, beyond shared experiences and many intimate moments, exploring each other’s lives and bodies.  A connection only biotics can share.  The biotic corona burns brightly on the battlefield, and with it, it tells a story.   Kaidan and Regis wrote their own story within the mnemonics they share, an understanding of how the other moves, casts, and fights.   Regis’s violet and Kaidan’s blue, creating a beautifully brutal vision.   The trust they share is unbreakable. 

Kaidan and Regis shared a look.  “Actually,” Kaidan said, rubbing the back of his neck.  “This is the first time we’ve been able to serve together.  Shepard—” he nudged Regis in the shoulder— “prefers solo missions and spending his time teaching N recruits.”

After Torfan, he had the pick of any ship, any tour, any position by Captains and Admirals alike who wanted someone who could get the job done at any cost.  Regis willingly embraced the title the Alliance gave, the whispers at his presence, the worried and shocked looks from some green cadets who saw him appear as a biotic instructor.  

But that didn’t mean he wanted to give them what they wanted out of him. 

Choosing to teach and stay solo was his own form of rebellion.  These were his terms.

The Spectre nomination was a similar situation for him.  He didn’t necessarily like the idea of being their candidate knowing damn well what power the Spectres had and what they could get away with.  

Yet another title he has to embrace for the Allinace.  Turning it down would be a career suicide.

If this recent tribunal with the Council wasn’t already one…  He will find a way to pin Saren for what he did on Eden Prime.

Regis nodded.  “Yes, it’s true.  I call it biotic intuition.”

“Mmm hmm…” Williams didn’t seem convinced, rolling her eyes, but Regis wasn’t quite ready to spill his whole history to her yet. “Either way, I could definitely learn from the both of you.  I haven’t had the chance to work with many biotics.”

“We’d be happy to train with you,” Kaidan said.  “Show you how we prefer to fight and how you can adapt. And how we can adapt to you."

“I’ll take you up on that, LT.  Say, and you can tell me off for asking, but does the Captain know about… this?” She asked, gesturing between them.

“Anderson and I have history, and he reluctantly let the both of us on board knowing what Alenko and I share.  He couldn’t exactly pass up the chance to have two well decorated biotics at his disposal, and I’m picky who I work with.  I almost didn’t accept the Normandy position, but I figured it was about damn time I worked on a ship with a team again.”  Regis explained.

Not exactly true.  Anderson more or less told him that the Alliance wanted Regis on board the Normandy due to his Torfan history and that his talents were wasted otherwise, and that any objections of his were likely going to be ignored.  Regis personally disagreed with that assessment, as he was part of the key to getting more biotics into specialized positions in the N program and that many covert operations were successful because of his skills.

It was obviously a political move, and he wasn’t exactly fond of being the one they chose for that.  Knowing now that they wanted him to be the first Human Spectre didn’t exactly make him any happier about their move.

However, he wasn’t lying about Anderson’s reluctance to keep Kaidan as the head of marine detail.  Fraternization will always be an issue in the Alliance, and even if they had tied the knot, it was unlikely they would’ve been allowed to serve together on such a vessel.  

The only reason he let them both aboard was due to their biotic skills, and he knew Regis would make it part of his terms for accepting the position.  Anderson was well aware of their history at BAaT, which also meant he didn’t have to deal with Regis getting bitchy with a green L3 who wouldn’t be able to read his unique mnemonics or freak out about when Regis inevitably explodes his barrier on command.

Speaking from experience, of course.  

“Clearly it doesn’t stop you two from working well together.  Maybe if you do end up getting the Spectre position, you can make an authorization to allow your relationship on the Normandy.” She smiled.  “I’m joking, of course.”

Regis raised an eyebrow.  “I didn’t even think of that.  You’re a goddamn genius, Williams.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” She asked, breaking out into a laugh at the end of her question.  

Kaidan sighed.  “I’m afraid he is.”

“What do you mean, Alenko?  Think about it.” Regis said, egging him on.  

“I am.” Kaidan leaned against the railing.  “But unlike you, I can be professional about it.”

“So, you agree that it is a good idea?”

“All I’m saying is I wouldn’t stop you.  I’m just imagining what the response from the brass would be.”

“How the hell did I not notice something between the two of you sooner?” Williams asked, shaking her head, stopping what would easily become a long "argument" between them.  

“Trust me, we’ll be back to being good little Alliance soldiers once onboard the ship.  You just got a taste of what we’re really like,” Regis said.  “Let’s move out.  We’ve spent long enough here.” “What’s the plan, Shepard?” Kaidan asked, standing up straight, waiting for orders.  Williams mirrored him.

“Let’s check out the lead given by Barla Von first.  Seemed to be the most interesting to me,” Regis ordered.  

He could see Williams working well with his crew, with some time to get used to his style of command and combat.  She had great skills, but for whatever reason, her career in the Alliance seemed stagnant according to her files.  Multiple opportunities for advancement were denied for no apparent reason.

Something to look into after he gets more information about the Saren situation.  

Maybe also something he could use his Spectre authorization on, if it comes to it.

[blood-and-pizza]

omg i stumbled across ur au and i think its pretty neat :D the post with monty and the bonnie conflict made me wonder if there are any other notable conflicts or drama that has happened in the establishment of the where the animatronics live. also how did the Foxy's react to Roxy in ur au was it like monty's reception or different (sorry if my grammar is bad)

Ah, thank you! <3

Well, let's see... the family-friendly animatronics sometimes get into squabbles with the horror animatronics. This is because the family-friendly animatronics have mixed feelings about perceived as scary, so to meet versions of themselves who are intentionally scary makes them feel insecure... and it makes them lash out. The horror animatronics either try to ignore their family-friendly counterparts or troll the hell out of them.

The Toys and the Classics sometimes feud with each other, but that only happens when Toy Foxy and Classic Foxy are fighting. It gets messier every time. Otherwise, they're usually family to each other.

Any family-friendly animatronic that isn't from the Funtime line has some sort of beef with the Funtimes. Basically, they all think Funtime Freddy is a troublemaker, and that he was "made wrong". The other Funtimes - excluding Circus Baby - have been known to defend Funtime Freddy, and so they get judged as having something wrong with them, too. The horror animatronics side with Funtime Freddy and accept him and the other Funtimes. It's helped Funfred embrace his scary side more, and is part of the reason he loves terrifying people for fun.

And that's all the drama I know about for now!

To answer your question about the Foxys and their reaction to Roxanne... they learned about her before actually getting to meet her, which wouldn't happen for about a decade. When they first learned about her, they couldn't stand the fact they'd been replaced by a wolf. For a while, the Foxys hated wolves. But then Twisted Wolf came to the Estate and they were forced to change their minds.

Twisted Wolf was part of the Twisted line of animatronics, who were built specifically to promote the FNAF novels. She was big, monstrous... and absolutely terrified of Classic Foxy. No one could figure out why until Classic Foxy read the book Twisted Wolf came from... only to find out his book counterpart had killed Twisted Wolf.

Classic Foxy is a family-friendly animatronic, but he actually gets along nicely with most of the horror animatronics since being scary made him popular. Knowing Twisted Wolf was terrified of him because she was afraid he'd KILL her... it felt horrible. That was the moment Classic Foxy decided to swallow his pride and be nice to Twisted Wolf. He advised the other Foxys to do to the same, "or else".

Four years tick by, and the Foxys have actually grown rather fond of Twisted Wolf. She doesn't speak, only able to communicate with wolf noises and body language. Despite this, she manages to be very expressive and communicative, and she's accepted the Foxys as being part of her "pack". Just as this happens, a new Foxy arrives at the Estate: Big Bad Foxy, a fox who loves pretending to be a wolf. He and Twisted Wolf bond immediately. They're all a family now.

So, by the time Roxanne Wolf shows up at the Estate... she's nervous about meeting the Foxys. She knows she has Foxy's eyes. But... she's a wolf. Not a fox. She's nowhere near as legendary as Foxy. How will he react to her? Well, imagine her surprise when it turns out there's already wolves in Foxy's family!

Classic Foxy gets so excited when he actually sees Roxanne in person, especially when he sees her eyes are his color. It's like a dad meeting his long-lost daughter for the first time. He's happy. Roxanne is so confused but... her tail is wagging uncontrollably. Also, she might start crying because she wasn't expecting such a warm welcome.

I could have sworn Roxanne had a Funtime Foxy plushie in her green room in Security Breach (I could be wrong), so she bonds closely with Toy Foxy and Funtime Foxy in my AU. She's also pretty fond of Classic Foxy and might accidentally call him "dad" sometimes. She does tease him a lot for the whole pirate shtick, though.

And in case you're wondering how Roxanne gets along with Twisted Wolf and Big Bad Foxy... they're like siblings.

I would love to explore Roxanne's relationship with the Foxys further, so if anybody wants to ask me more specific questions about that, feel free!

[loversj0y]

Ohh boy ok

L’manbur my beloved. 

Here’s part two. Maybe the next part will be the angsty part

Can you imagine President Soot announcing the elections and learning that the reader immediately enrolled as a candidate. He’d be annoyed, but also a strange mixture of proud and exhilarated. 

This is another enemies AND lovers moment y’all. (want to hc that someone actually suggested impeachment or a vote of no-confidence against President Wilbur a couple times– which the reader actually refused to do, marking the one and only time that they defended wilbur on the political stage, saying that government should be run through debate and consideration and not mindless evictions, yada yada. Wilbur was looking at them like 😳). 

Anyway the day comes for the candidates to choose their running mates— I don't remember how that went down in canon, so I'll make some stuff up. Let’s assume that each candidate gives a short speech and then announces their future VP. It’s like a publicity stunt, getting their names out there for people to remember and hopefully vote for. 

There’s this one guy in L’manburg, let’s just call him Archibald or something (old man, dude in his 40s), who vehemently opposes everything the reader does. He doesn’t like Wilbur either

Despite all of this, A r c h i b a l d  is not a complete prick. He cares for L’Manburg in his own way, even if his tactics and views don’t align with his peers. He amassed quite a following, but wasn’t chosen as a political candidate, and resorted to glaring at the other contestants from his place in the audience. 

Back to the reader. Now, they know they are at an extreme disadvantage here. Public speaking is not their thing– shady, one-on-one contract deals are more their style. Talking to a crowd? Forget about it. They need to take a gamble. 

Wilbur chooses Tommy as his VP, Quacktiy chooses George, Fundy chooses Niki, and they choose…. Archibald.

The stadium goes silent, flabbergasted, as they announce their pick. Some of the reader’s close constituents look offended, and Archibald looks flabbergasted. But he isn’t going to pass up this opportunity– not yet at least. He shakes their hand and joins them on stage. 

By drawing a truce with their worst political enemy and showing the citizens that they are willing to work with opposing ideals,  the reader has pulled what we call a pro gamer move. 

Wilbur is a little impressed? Maybe?

Just imagine him standing on the other end of the stage, elbows on the podium, head resting against his fist as he just grins. 

Imagine his vaguely flirty behavior with Quackity, but doubled.  

Man knows how to roll an insult, pick-up-line, and partially-backhanded/partially-genuine compliment into one. 

Still too cocky to think he’ll lose the elections though. 

I swear i had other ideas about this but they won't come to me.

Also: no romance/jealousy scene is implied with Archibald. he's just some old guy politician who becomes a coworker.

also also: completely (?) unrelated but IMAGINE BEING PRESIDENT SOOT'S TAILOR. CAN YOU IMAGINE THE TENSION THAT COMES WITH STANDING BEHIND SOMEONE AS YOU LOOP A MEASURING TAPE AROUND THEIR WAIST---

anyway i am normal about this skrunkly./.,,,, elegeeant absastard.

god the sexual tension between wilbur soot and political opponents…….

the idea of tommy as his vp in this scenario seems to funny to me bc of the clips where tntduo would be havijg an intense discussion and tommy would just go. “ARE U GUYS KISSING” because he’d definitely do that

post debates, coming off stage, both a little sweaty and worked up from nerves, and wilbur’s just standing there looking too hot for his own good, so the reader picks something absolutely stupid to just fucking yell at him about, and they’re getting in each other’s faces, literally lips seconds apart, arguing in fancy political and business terms, and then tommy turns the corner. pauses.

“wilbuh can you stop MAKING OUT with the ENEMY”

also love the pro gamer move on readers part. thats actually a genuinely smart political show (until it becomes time to pass legislation but theres a reason they changed the law about who the VP ends up being (thanks hamilton))

also I HAVE THOUGHT ABT THAT MANY TIMES MAN OH MY GOD

he’s standing there, stressed and tired, and theres a lot of tension as you wrap your arms around him to measure his waist and in his exhaustion, he thinks you’re trying to hug him, and he just. fully leans into it, exhausted and wanting affection <3 and as his personal tailor, you will gladly do so and then help walk him to his room to make sure he sleeps well (and doesnt get any of his fancy clothes that you just made messed up ffs he loves gis gunpowder but that shit stain’s permanently!!!! hold on. my knowledge of gunpowder just gave me a separate idea but i dont have enough there to share yet so im going to ignore it BUT STILL)

[ourlittledinosaur]

Dear Stranger...Please Don't Touch My Baby!

New Post has been published on http://ourlittledinosaur.com/dear-stranger-please-dont-touch-my-baby/

Dear Stranger...Please Don't Touch My Baby!

We’ve All Been There…

You’re in a public place with your little one and a kindly stranger approaches to express adoration over your baby. Whether you’re carrying a newborn just days old, or a giggling toddler, you probably don’t want a stranger to touch your child.

I had been warned about this from seasoned mothers, but still I wasn’t truly prepared for how I should react to this situation. This letter was written in response to this very situation. I’m not going to lie, I was a little fired up about this when I originally wrote it. Needless to say I sat on it a while before posting in the hopes that I could mellow it out. I don’t know how successful I was, but I’ve come to the conclusion, it’s ok to protect my child. It’s with that thought that I write this letter. (Keep in mind, my son was 12 months at the time of this scene, and I was still able to wear him.)

Don’t Touch My Baby!

First things, first!  A little humor:

“Dear Stranger,

I hope this letter finds you well. We’ve not met before today, but I was compelled to write to you because of something that bothered me about our encounter earlier.

Today, my sister and I went to the grocery store together to do some shopping. I was carrying my son as I always do in his infantino carrier facing towards me. I find that wearing him helps to keep him from getting antsy in the cart seat. Also, we’re learning that he’s a bit shy and he feels more safe and secure close to Mommy.  Let’s face it, all the people in the store can be a little overwhelming for us grown-ups, not to mention little ones.

I saw you smiling at us in the checkout line today, and I smiled in return. It’s always nice to see a friendly face, as that is so rare these days. Moments later, I was looking the other direction to say something to my sister. Within a few more seconds, I was facing forward again, and taken aback, when I suddenly realized that you had approached us and had your hand on my son’s face. Shocked, I immediately turned my body to move my son away from your touch.

Please understand, I am not trying to be rude. I think that if you were in my place, you might feel as dismayed as I did. You see ma’am, it’s flu season and although you seem nice, I don’t know you. I don’t know what germs you may carry. I’m not saying you’re dirty – you certainly seem nice enough, but not even you are aware of all the germs that may be on your hands after all the grocery items you handled just now. I also have been handling groceries, which is why I refrain from stroking my son’s cheek until after we return home and I have washed my hands. I realize some may consider this overprotective, and while I’m all about kids building immunity, I prefer them to do it playing in the dirt or petting our animals.

We grown-ups also have to realize that although he is small, (and absolutely adorable, I agree!), he is still a person. Let me explain what I am getting at. You and I, being strangers, would never imagine walking up and stroking each other’s faces, would we? I think it’s important for us to remember that these little ones still need the respect of personal space. He is young and cannot speak for himself just yet, but he is his own person. It’s my job to protect him and to be his voice while he is learning how to find his own and can communicate that he doesn’t like a stranger being so close to us. Stroking his cheek or his hair, or really any touching in general without permission, just isn’t appropriate.

I must admit, I was upset with you, although I didn’t say anything. Truth be told, I was more upset with myself because I didn’t say anything. So I’ve made up my mind that in the future, I’m going to allow myself to speak up, even at the cost of seeming rude.  This isn’t the first time a stranger has approached us this way, and in my opinion, I have erred on the side of “grin and bear it” too many times. It’s not fair to my son for me to do nothing and for you to think that this is ok.

In the future, I encourage you to refrain from touching children and babies you do not know. I don’t know of a any parent who doesn’t have a problem with this on some level, and you are putting people in a really awkward position of having to be direct with you, which may put yourself in a potentially unpleasant situation.

In closing, if you would like to chat with me and my child in the store, I am more than happy to do so. I actually love talking to strangers! And my son loves to smile at you too. We welcome the conversation. Just please. Please don’t touch my kid.

Sincerely,

Lil’ Dino Mommy a.k.a. Momma Bear”

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[arden-au]

── ✧ physical touch with jake

jakexgn!reader | 0.69k words | fluff

a/n: i swear i always imagine jake with just this golden retriever energy but its fine he's cute. and i never know how to properly end any writing i write >.> anyways i'm not sure how often i'd like to post each part of this series, maybe once a week or something along those lines. thank you for reading and enjoy!

read the others here: jungwon

it's been a long day, work was overwelming and all you wanted was to be home with your boyfriend (the show the two of you were watching had a new episode coming out tonight). you let out a relived sigh as you open the door to your shared apartment, slipping out of your shoes. you hear the sound of pattering, before your boyfriend appeared a few feet from you. his eyes gleam with excitement, finally being able with you after you regretfully left him home alone on his day off. he bounced on the balls of his feet, opening his mouth a a few times and closing them, the words he wanted to say coming up short.

you laugh, dropping your bag and opening your arms for his embrace which comes almost immediately. he pulls you close, enjoy the whiff of your perfume as he lifts you off your feet without realizing. he pulls back just enough to kiss you; your forehead, nose, cheeks and finally your lips. light peppered kisses met with your giggles and teasing remarks.

he leads you into the hallway, asking about your day was and if you missed him (which you did, of course). he rambles about the food he made and brings you to the kitchen where he has dinner lined on the island countertops. gestures for you to sit after you wash your hands and grab a glass of water, sitting beside you right after. pouts when you refuse to let him feed you, which turns into a bright grin when you compliment his cooking seconds later. he settles with his hand on your thigh, his free hand helping him eat while he observes you as you eat your own share. pauses from time to time to remove the small pieces of food on the corner of your mouth or just to kiss your cheek. he does without speaking, opting to just continue listening to you talk about your work stories without interrupting.

despite the familiar feeling of it all, you can't help but blush at his small affections. jake was always physically affectionate, though he was a bit tamed when you two started dating. though you wouldn't change it for the world.

you truly learned how much you enjoyed his affections whenever you weren't feeling the best, which always resulted in him sitting or just being with you and holding you close. no words, just you two in the moment. jake stayed with you until you wanted to speak or you felt better. jake enjoy any time he was able to be with you, regardless of what you were doing. babysitting your cousins? he's there playing with everyone and giving them piggyback rides. he genuinely enjoys being able to share your presence and the tender affections that come with it.

-

jake's favourite time of the day included your skin-care time, fresh from the shower and wearing a hairband to move your hair from your face. insists on getting a matching one, and you both doing the routine for the other. enjoys when he sits on counter top with you leaning between his legs, a concentrated look on your features as you meticulously clean his face.

he suppresses the urge to smile, especially when you scold him from moving around too much. "jake i'm going to get some of the moisturizer in your teeth if you don't stop smiling." he can't help it, his arms finding its place around your hips as he just silently observes you. snaps out of it when you're holding out your cleanser to him, which his obliges and does his part.

after washing up in the bathroom, he follows after you as you head for the bedroom. he waits for you to get comfy in the sheets, taking his place beside you and lays down on his side to face you. the two of you silent stare at one another, innocent loving gazes mirrored in both your eyes. he pulls you close as you're the first one to break eye contact, kissing your forehead. "good night jake" you whisper.

"goodnight my love" he replies.

taglist [open]: @hell1cy @wtfhyuck @wonielvr likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

[silverefflux]

Hearing Bells

Sova x Fem!Reader angst Really doing everything lately except the smut huh?

A gentle breeze circled the chapel on a sunny afternoon. It was almost as if today was destined for the wedding taking place discreetly within its domes. Two brides knelt before a modest altar, donning immense pride and love for each other—your fellow agents, who were given the rare opportunity to exchange vows and have the entire protocol celebrate their love with them. You watched somewhat drowsily in a long flowing dress that cascaded down the wooden pew you sat on. The intricacies of ceremonies like these weren’t all familiar to you, but there was a joy to seeing your loved ones swear their undying commitment in front of something said to be bigger than yourselves.

The priest walked to the podium and began his homily. He was humorous and quite the storyteller—pretty helpful during a time when your body craves a siesta. He complimented the weather and talked about things he adored about Tayane and Klara’s story. It’s sweet how he gets to know the couples he weds and remembers their stories.

You took it all in, daydreaming of the time when you’ll find someone special, go through ups and downs together, tell a pastor or some other officiator your story, and vow for love before an altar like this. It was so simple yet so good. Like the stuff of fairy tales, but maybe because of your line of work it will always remain a fairy tale. Your heartbeat cantered as you silently repressed that somber yearning.

You weren’t the only one, though.

Beside you, Sova sat upright in a black suit, also trying to hide his longing. But alas, his was more agonizing, as he knew that every night he imagined creating a future with particularly the woman he was sitting with.

The organ played and everyone was instructed to stand and join hands as a hymn played. Sova took his hand in yours. Your hands were roughed up over the years, but he held it like it was made of glass. Or silk. Or gold. All combined. Everything that conveys how precious and delicate he sees you.

The two of you just stood there hand in hand, not really knowing the words of the hymn, but embracing the solemnity of the moment and the warmth you gave each other. You raised your brows as you felt his grip tighten for a split-second. You eyed from the side, and he echoed a silent apology by returning your gaze and loosening his grip immediately.

Yebat, he thought. You’ll make it obvious. Don’t grip too much—well not too little either. Wait, am I sweating?

The hymn finished and you all sat back down. It was the longest two minutes of his life. There was a touch of emptiness as Sova felt your hand slip away from his as you returned to your seat.

The priest continued speaking, going on about the meaning of marriage. How it is not just a mere declaration of combined properties and shared obligation, but also a profound spiritual bond. A promise to give adoration and support that overcomes one’s human flaws. One that endures amidst the occasional difficulties of human things like paying attention, sacrificing, and forgiving.

Sova’s heart beat so fast that he needed air to make up for it, but sighing after the priest theatrically said “eternal love” seemed suspicious.

Breathe deep—but slowly. Don’t make it obvious.

With the air that entered his lungs, the priest’s words pierced into his heart, along with the fear of things going wrong should you find out about his feelings, or the pain he could put you both through should you—by some lucky chance—decide to love him back.

“There are four things you need in a marriage,” the priest set forth, “The first one is communication.”

Agreed. I can do that. I can communicate. Regardless of what it may entail—even vulnerability, Sova thought to himself as he listened on to the priest’s list.

Compassion? Of course.

Comfort? I can learn.

Commitment? No sweat. Even if it costs me.

If only he could stand and ask the priest to spare him time to confess and offer his promises too, but today was about his friends. He has one job and that is to sit—or stand, or kneel, whatever is instructed during the mass. Just not interrupt.

The priest goes on about things Sova knows in himself that he is more than willing to do, at all costs. Because it was you. For you, he’d change himself, keep himself the same, care for himself, sacrifice himself. Anything. It tore him apart, this most unfortunate feeling of being at someone’s mercy without them even knowing about it.

I can do that for her, he thought.

Meanwhile, your mind skipped a few of the preacher’s sentences, up to the part where he directed his words at the couple he was marrying together and implored them to consciously choose each other each day.

“Look at the person beside you!” the priest exclaimed.

Sova looked to his left, straight into your eyes, wordlessly confessing how he feels—

—but only in his head. In reality, all he could manage was to look down then slightly at your feet.

The priest continued, “That person is the one you’ll stand beside in sickness and in health. Easier said than done, but through this, you promise each other that you will do the same.”

Sova, you idiot, he called himself out. Not even committed yet and here you are wanting to just announce your promises already. Might as well yell it over to the priest while you’re at it. It’s not every day you get to be in a church.

A little later, the couple face each other as they are questioned by the priest.

“Klara, do you take Tayane to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto her for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

Sasha, do you take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto her for as long as you both shall live?”

I do.

But will she?

[caitimetravels]

she’s insignificant

chapter 1: we only see each other at weddings and funerals

the umbrella academy x (fem) reader

disclaimer: i do not own the plot/storyline of the netflix tv series and i do not own the umbrella academy characters. 

warnings: mentions of death (rip reggie), mentions of overdosing

masterlist

we start our story in a lonely house. it was never quite the normal childhood house for the family that occupied it but it was definitely more lively than it was at the moment. she missed that. the house felt too big, too quiet. 

most people get the chance to move out when they grow up and that’s what the children of this house did. they weren’t comfortable in this house. she thought it was unfair. she never got the chance to grow up. she was stuck, trapped in the stupid house she could barely call home. maybe she could have had a wonderful life. met a nice man or woman, started a family. 

he stripped that life from her. tore it out of her grasp and toyed with her again. she was so sick of this life, she wanted an escape. 

she hated him. so why? 

why wasn’t she happy he was gone?

--------------------------------------------------

october 1st, 1989.

on the 12th hour of this day 43 women around the world gave birth. this was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day began.

sir reginald hargreeves. eccentric billionaire and adventurer. he resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

he got eight of them.

number 1 “luther”

the abnormally buff man steps out onto the moon, bouncing along to put his trash in the pile made before. he stares out at earth with a sad look. a beep on his arm breaks him out of his thoughts. he flips the material off his wrist, taking a look at the transmission sent to him.

number 2 “diego”

a masked man hurls the attacker into the wall, taking him out. he steps around the corner to help a scared family. “you’re family’s safe now” he goes to walk away, pausing at the tv. the news plays in front of him, stopping him short.

number 3 “allison”

a beautiful woman with curly highlighted hair steps onto the red carpet in an equally stunning red dress. she smiles and poses for the many cameras pointed her way. several reporters call out her name. it is then that one is whispered something. suddenly the questions change, they become more personal, asking about her father. a woman walks out and whispers something into her ear. her expression changes and they quickly walk away.

number 4 “klaus”

a man with short messy black hair jumps off a bed, saying his goodbyes to several other men in the room. he collects his things from a man through a window. he’s chucked a coin and he smiles giddily, looking rather happy to be out. immediately he goes back to buy drugs, consequently overdosing. he wakes up in an ambulance having been resuscitated. he notices the news, frowning.

number 7 “vanya”

the violinist beautifully playing to the empty theatre stops, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. she leaves, wandering down the street when she notices the news on a tv showing through the window. she whispers one word to herself, in disbelief. 

“dad..”

number 8 “y/n”

the h/c haired girl sat in an all too large library reading an anton chekhov play. she looks up at a small knock on the door. a chimpanzee dressed in a suit stands solemnly in the doorway. she raises and eyebrow, confused by his behaviour. he speaks softly, informing the girl of what her siblings were currently learning all over the city.

“oh..”

--------------------------------------------------

number eight. the demon. 

the same h/c girl stands in a line with her 7 other siblings. a younger vanya is asked to leave. they all avoid looking at her. she was different.. at least that’s what their father told them. eight didn’t understand it. she was different too and no one asked her to leave. 

as usual eight is pulled away from her siblings as they train together. she is taken to a separate room, one built for her. it’s plain and white, much like a cell in a mental asylum.. or at least what she imagined a mental asylum to look like from what she had read in stories.

she hates this room but she hides her emotions just like her father taught her to. 

“don’t let them control you, number eight” he scolded, “you should be in control”

--------------------------------------------------

the doors to the academy are slowly pushed open. vanya steps into the house, taking in how big the house was. it had been around 13 years since she’d been here. she took small steps through the large room, looking up at the chandelier. she turned towards the parlour where her mother sat by the fire. 

“hey mom” she called out softly. she received no answer. 

“she probably won’t answer” a new voice called out and vanya stepped further into the parlour to see her h/c haired sibling. she sat atop the bar, reading a book and not sparing her a glance. “she’s been lonely ever since you all left.. gone a bit weird i guess” 

vanya’s mouth fell open. how was she the same age? y/n hadn’t aged a day since they left. she was still in her 16 year old body. at her sister’s silence the h/c finally looked up.

“what?” she raised an eyebrow, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost” 

“vanya?” a voice sounded out from the stairs. the brown haired woman turned now spotting their other sister, allison. “you’re actually here..” she huffed, surprised but not at all disappointed.

“hey allison” vanya greeted carefully.

“hey sis” allison’s voice was soft as she walked over, offering a hug. their moment was ruined by diego.

“hah” he scoffed, “what is she doing here? you don’t belong here. not after what you did” he didn’t even look over at them, making his way towards the stairs.

“you’re seriously going to do this today?” allison asked in disbelief but diego only ignored her. “hmph, way to dress for the occasion by the way”

“at least i’m wearing black” he shot back, disappearing up the staircase.

“don’t mind him” the two girls turned towards y/n who now had her book tucked under her arm. “he’s just grumpy he had to come back”

“you know what.. no, um.. maybe he’s right” vanya shook her head, ready to leave. “i shouldn’t-”

“forget it” y/n stopped her, “he doesn’t matter.. i’m glad you came, all of you. even if you don’t want to be here.. i- i want you here” 

“i’m glad you’re here too” allison nodded, agreeing. y/n gave them a soft, small smile before moving away. the two older women shared a look as she disappeared. she had been lonely..

--------------------------------------------------

vanya stood near the bookcases, looking over the old umbrella academy comic books and articles. she looked through the books until she came across her own. gently pulling it from the shelf she eyed it over, hopeful. there were creases in the fold. she opened the cover, revealing her note to her father. 

pogo interrupted her, clearing his throat. she smiled, crossing the room to embrace him. he noticed the book she was holding.

“do you know um.. did he ever read it?” she seemed unsure, not wanting to know the answer she expected. slowly, pogo sighed,

“not that i’m aware of” he shook his head, “i’m afraid those creases are from ms y/n. she loved reading it when you first released it”

they both glanced over at the painting of number five. 

“how long has it been since five disappeared?” vanya asked, 

“it’s been 16 years-” pogo was interrupted.

“4 months and 14 days” they both turned to see y/n entering. she either didn’t notice or ignored their stares, moving across the room to grab a new book. 

“did you.. did you ever find him?” vanya breathed, waiting in suspense for the answer. y/n finally looked at them now, pausing. she had always told her father that she didn’t, that she couldn’t but maybe just maybe she did.

“..yeah”

[shujiology]

Playing House

You and Hanma had always loved playing house ever since you were young, and he played the role of a husband so well.

Warnings: afab!reader, minor violence, blood, slight himedere!reader

Imagine this, seven-year-old Hanma Shuji who towers over his peers due to his ridiculously imposing height, making it easier for him to intimidate kids his age, even if he didn’t intend to at first.

Seven-year-old Hanma Shuji would always stand in the middle of the playground alone, because everyone else basically avoided him like the plague, in fear that he might do something to hurt them just because he looked slightly different than everyone else.

Seven-year-old Hanma Shuji quickly learned to use this to his advantage, and he does so by bullying his classmates into doing things for him, like carrying his bag, or doing his assignments, etc.

He never brings his own lunch to school, and that was mostly caused by the absence of his mother and the lack of solicitude provided by his now single father, so he’d always steal his classmate’s lunches, and they’d always give it to him willingly without him having to put up too much of a fight.

He would also punch anyone’s teeth in if they dare to disobey him (though to be fair, he would do this for fun anyways).

Imagine seven-year-old Hanma Shuji, who after a while, got bored of getting whatever he wanted, so he starts to think that maybe he craved the company of other children his age after all.

He’d always watch the kids play with each other, and the one thing he notices often, is that children like to play house. Where one person, usually a boy, would pretend to be the husband, while a girl would pretend to be the wife, meanwhile the rest of the children would be their kids.

So he’s decided, if the other kids wouldn’t come over to befriend him, then he should bring the other kids to him, right? Yeah, that makes perfect sense.

There you were, sitting amongst your friends, eating lunch in peace when suddenly Hanma’s tall figure came looming over you as he starred at you blankly with a smile that has mischief written all over it.

“Can I help you?” you asked, failing to notice all the other girls around you practically shaking like a leaf upon his presence alone.

Without warning he picks you up over his shoulder like you were a bag of rice, ignoring your persistent complaints telling him to put you down.

Eventually he dropped you to the ground and knelt in front of you so he could level his face with yours before saying “We’re going to play house now” in the most nonchalant way possible. “I’ll be the husband, and you’ll be my wife~♡” he chirped happily with a Cheshire grin.

To his surprise, you didn’t start crying immediately, like all the other girls he’s approached thus far. Instead, you huffed and crosses your arms over your chest, acting like what he did had offended you greatly. “Husbands don’t treat their wives like a brute Shuji! If you want me to be your wife then you must treat me as such” you chastised.

“For starters… husbands usually give their wives rings” you say as you wiggle your tiny fingers in front of him, as if to emphasize your still ringless hand.

Hanma was too stunned to speak. Although after a while, he came back to his senses and when he does, the flabbergasted look on his face was quickly replaced by the wicked grin he was more known for. He really likes you, he decided at that very moment. ‘She’s interesting’ he thinks, before rushing off without saying a word.

Seven-year-old Hanma Shuji would walk over to a group of random girls and grab one of them by the wrist, before pulling her over to the neatly lined up potted plants in front of their classroom and force her to weave a ring out of the pretty pastel flowers, merely because you told him you wanted a ring.

When you requested a crown to go with the ring, he’d tell the same girl (or multiple girls) to go and make flower crowns especially for you. That, or he’d yank a headband from a random girl’s head before presenting it to you because that’s just what husbands do.

You’d always sit on one specific swing-set whilst you wait for him to retrieve whatever it is you'd asked for, and naturally the swing beside it belongs to him.

God forbid anyone dares to steal your swing from you.

He’d make sure right then and there just who that swing-set belongs to. He’d make someone carve your names on it with their fingernails if he had to.

Though of course, what is a perfect husband without his perfect wife?

He wasn’t the only one playing. You also played the role of the perfect wife so well for him.

Whenever he managed to successfully do your requests, you’d give him a bright smile before jumping at him to give him an embrace. He no longer has to steal lunches from other kids because now he has you to bring him lunch. That way you guys could eat together like a couple would!

And whenever someone snitched on him to the teachers, you’d always have his back and tell the teachers that it wasn’t his fault and that the other kid started it.

Hanma would do anything for you. All you have to do is say the words and whatever you want is yours. He’d remain playing the role of a husband for you, and when twenty-eight-year-old Hanma Shuji stood outside your door, face splattered with blood with some smearing on to his glasses, and a devilish smile adorning his face just like all those years ago with a diamond ring in hand (the one you'd specifically said you wanted but could never get, because apparently someone else had gotten it before you), you just can’t help but beam up at him and say “Yes”.

A.N: not me listening to High School Sweethearts by Melanie Martinez at the dead of night as I imagine Hanma treating me like the queen that I am. Kisaki you one lucky bastard, I also want Hanma to be my ride or die goddamit!

[from-a-reckless-writer]

here's me jumping into the bandwagon :D

(read on ao3)

It's just after sunset when Kara finally gives in. She veers off from her patrol down to a route she knows by heart.

The moment she lands, the first thing she notices is how the sliding doors are a fraction open. It’s a small thing, nothing to even be thrilled about, yet still, her drumming heart cannot be helped.

"Knock, knock," she says, stepping inside.

Her heart turning anxious when she takes in the sight in front of her. The room is a mess; books on the floor, drawers open, Lena’s frazzled appearance. She's standing over a suitcase thrown open in the middle of the bed, a mountain of clothes on top of it.

She was told that Lena was going on a trip, that it would probably take three weeks tops.

Packing for a trip doesn’t look like this, this looks a lot like... leaving.

Going on a trip, Kara remembers that’s what her family told her too.

You and Kal are going on a trip but you don’t have to worry, we’ll be with you the rest of the way, they told her.

A trip implies there would be a home to come back to. And Kara believed it. She believed it for a total of ten seconds before her planet exploded and a shard of her home knocked her off-course.

"Need some help?" Her voice doesn’t tremble. Kara considers that a miracle, really.

"I didn't know Supergirl helped poor hapless women pack suitcases,” Lena retorts, walking over to her and kissing her cheek in greeting. It doesn't go unnoticed by Kara how clingy Lena's been since she's been back.

"Well, I wouldn’t exactly consider you poor and hapless," Kara counters.

"I may have had a slight,” Lena pinches her thumb and forefinger together, “panic over which and what to pack earlier.”

Yeah, Kara can definitely see that.

"Good thing I’m here then?”

"It's always good whenever you're around,” Lena says in such a casual way and it’s like the past year didn’t happen. As if it has always been this good. And...is this even allowed? This much affection from Lena? All the sweet words, the gentle touches, and the constant close proximity? It shouldn’t be allowed, not if it will be taken from her almost immediately after.

Unfair, is what it is.

******

“Okay, so why don’t we just move this out here yeah?” Kara voices, leaning over and hugging the lump of clothes to her chest, dumps it out from the suitcase and onto Lena’s pillows.

Lena’s fabric conditioner filling Kara’s senses entirely. For a brief moment, she considers stealing one of Lena’s shirts then and there. Something to tide her through once Lena leaves.

“Great. You’re on folding duty then,” Lena declares, “I’ll just go sort my babies, quickly. I’ll be right back.”

(Her 'babies' being the thick books lining every inch of this place.)

Lena disappears through the door. The domesticity of it all pulling at Kara’s chest.

In another world, where life ran a little differently, Kara would be packing their suitcases for a trip to Argo, or maybe one of the planets she’s always wanted Lena to see, or maybe it’d be nothing that grand. Maybe, just a trip back to Midvale. Lena would read to her on the whole drive there, her hair whipping from the winds down coastal roads.

Maybe not even a trip. Maybe in this other world, she’s assigned on folding duty, while Lena tinkers around their house. Maybe, even a dog or a cat. Maybe, something small at first, just an aquarium of fishes.

She doesn’t notice how deep into the fantasy she’s gotten till Lena speaks up from the door.

"My, my, CatCo would pay a million dollars to see this."

"Uh-"

"Supergirl found in bed, folding Lena Luthor's undies."

Kara looks down at her hand. She’s holding a lacy purple panty, she spots the matching bra laying a few inches away. She drops it lightning quick, feels her face flush.

"Oh, Rao. Lena, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to- I wasn't- It was just there and I-"

"Relax, Kara. I was just teasing,” Lena reassures her, she’s got three books tucked in her arms, she lays them down on the bed, before picking up the underwear Kara’s dropped and folding it neatly.

The contrast of the dark fabric against Lena’s pale fingers makes Kara flush an even brighter red.

Kara tries hard to exclude Lena's lacy panties in her fantasy.

She fails.

******

They give up on packing entirely two hours later. An all out pillow fight breaks out somewhere between Kara fishing out her favorite hoodie from the pile--discovering t'was not in fact missing like she thought it was--and Lena denying that she stole it.

They’ve fallen right on top of Lena’s clothes. Laying opposite each other, Lena lying upside down, her feet propped up on the pillows, toes touching the headboard, whilst Kara’s legs dangle at the end of the bed. Their heads close together.

From this angle, she can see the defined slope of Lena’s nose; stares at the way her lashes curl every time she blinks.

“So, what do you think you’ll find there?” Kara breathes out into the silence.

“I don’t really know,” Lena whispers.

“Let me rephrase then; what do you want to find?”

“I- I don’t know either.”

She tries to crane her neck to take a better look at Lena. Her eyes are closed, and it takes every ounce of self-control for Kara not to lean over and just press a kiss to Lena’s lips. It would be so, so easy. She settles for shifting just a bit closer instead, their temples touching.

It’s good enough.

“That’s okay," Kara murmurs, "not knowing is part of the adventure, right?”

She tries not to think about how she isn’t really part of this adventure. It isn’t about her, really. Kara’s decided the next three days will be about Lena. Kara will have time for breaking down once Lena leaves. The three days pales in comparison to how much Lena’s sacrificed in getting her back.

“I guess so.” she hears Lena say.

On the ceiling, Kara sees two shadows dancing with each other, tries not to look too deep into it.

And then,

“I had Jess trace down a couple of documents for me,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. There’s an orphanage that could help me, she thinks.”

Kara’s ears perk up at that, she imagines Lena as a small child crying for her mom and then being whisked away from everything she ever knew. Kara wishes she could hold that little girl’s hand. Why did nobody hold Lena’s hand through it all? Kara wonders if somebody did, would Lena even have met her? Would she have needed somebody like Kara in her life? She likes to believe that Lena would still have met her. A reality without Lena was too painful, Kara knows all too well.

“Is that where you’re going to visit first?”

“Yeah.”

A brief silence engulfs them.

“Hey, Kara,” Lena calls out. “Do you think-”

There’s a deep exhale and a sigh.

“Do I think what?”

“Do you think my mom would want me to find her again? Do you think she’s proud of me?”

The question was so full of uncertainty and insecurity and there's nothing that Kara wants more than to just wrap around Lena and tell her how goddamn amazing she is.

“Oh, Lena," Kara whispers, "your mom would be so happy if you found her. I’d even say she’s been waiting for you. And of course, she’s proud of you!” Kara sits up at this, can’t contain all her awe for Lena.

“You’re amazing! Have you met you? Your mom would be so proud of you. I just know it, Lena.”

Lena opens her eyes, smiles shyly at her, reaches up to cup Kara’s cheek. Even though the angle is awkward, Kara feels her entire being light up at the touch.

“Thank you. You always know just what to say.”

Kara's right hand comes up to keep Lena’s hand steady, before tilting slowly to press a kiss to her palm.

She registers the up-tick in her heartbeat before letting go and laying back down again.

Kara’s beginning to understand, now. Lena doesn’t want to wonder anymore, maybe if she knew where she came from, who she could’ve been, and what kind of life she could’ve led, existing wouldn’t be as hard as it is now. Maybe Lena wanted to know that a Luthor isn’t all that she is. Even though Kara has repeated again and again that she is so much more. Lena needs to figure that out for herself, Kara guesses.

Maybe, Lena finally needs a name other than what has been ingrained in her. Maybe Lena needs to name the parts of herself she never had before.

“Maybe you came from a family of thieves,” Kara murmurs, closing her eyes too.

“Kara.” she feels Lena shift, she opens one eye to see Lena propped on her elbows leaning over her. “Are you saying you think being a hoodie thief is genetic?”

“You never know, Lena you never know,” Kara manages to say, her brain a loop of, Lena’s eyes are so pretty, so pretty, so pretty, her hair smells so nice, please kiss me, please kiss-

Kara closes her eyes again to make the chanting stop.

“You do know I'm a scientist, right?”

“Mm. Doesn’t make you any less of a hoodie thief.”

That earns her a pillow on the face.

“Personally, I think you’re some lost princess though," Kara divulges.

Lena lets out a loud incredulous laugh at that.

“What?" Lena blurts out, "You think I’m a princess?”

There’s a cheesy pick-up line there somewhere that Kara chooses to ignore.

“Well, you have the whole Snow White look down to a T, after all. Pale skin, dark hair. The whole ensemble really.”

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," Lena groans, “but, I think you might be right. God, I even have the whole evil stepmother-stepbrother dynamic down. Does that make you one of my dwarfs?”

“Dwarf? Really? Lena, really?”

She’s glad to learn that Lena had picked up a thing or two from their Disney marathons. That doesn’t mean Kara appreciates being called a dwarf though. She sits up and leans back on her elbows too; their faces inches from each other now. Lena’s eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You turn into Grumpy when someone eats your ice cream.”

Kara gasps, clutches her heart as if wounded and falls down dramatically. Lena just laughs at her, lies down again before asking, “Think I’ll find Prince Charming there, then?”

“You don’t need Prince Charming.”

I’m right here.

“True,” Lena agrees. Lena doesn’t need anybody, although would it really hurt if she says that she needed Kara the way Kara needs her?

“Ireland seems like the best place to run off into the sunset though," Lena wonders aloud.

“Is that what you wanna do?” Kara asks, “Just run off into the sunset?”

Because, because, if it is, I can do something even better. I can fly you off into the sunset. All you have to do is ask. Her heart is galloping in her chest and she’s grateful that out of the two of them, she’s the only one with super hearing.

“No, I don’t think so,” Lena answers and Kara lets out a none too subtle breath of relief.

“You don’t have to search for a home, you know,” Kara whispers. She just- She just needs Lena to know this, okay?

“I know,” Lena answers. “I still need to do this though.”

Once Lena Luthor makes up her mind there’s no changing it, it’s something Kara’s come to know through the years.

“You’ll come back soon though?”

“Maybe. Honestly, Kara? I don’t really know about ‘soon’. How close is ‘soon’ anyway? Would there even be a good reason for me to come back?”

How Kara held her all screams in the moment Lena said that, she doesn’t know.

******

There are balloons and cake and confetti but it doesn’t feel anything remotely close to a party.

It feels more something along the lines of, train wreck and heartbreak and building on fire. In short, disaster.

She vaguely registers Kelly asking her to hover and hang the banner. Why would she want to hang a banner screaming “We”ll Miss You!” in glittering blue? Kara grabs the ends of it and hangs it up anyway.

We’ll Miss You doesn't even begin to cover Kara’s feelings about Lena’s departure and oncoming absence.

But then again, this isn’t about her.

The door buzzes before Kara can spiral down her blackhole again.

Andrea comes in through the door with a bottle of champagne, which she hands off to Kara along with her coat. Kara fumbles after Andrea.

This isn’t CatCo! I’m not your employee! And champagne? Really? What is there to celebrate?

Lena arrives shortly after and streamers are let out. They make in-jokes and everyone’s laughing and Alex keeps telling Lena to bring home ‘some of the good stuff’ and Brainy keeps asking if he’s allowed to tinker with Lena’s projects while she's away, and Nia’s handing Lena an old film camera, “Document everything for me? Alright?" and Kara’s trying, she really, really is.

Even though she can’t understand how all of them are happy and smiling at the thought of Lena leaving them.

She doesn’t even notice what she’s doing till she’s bracing herself for take-off out in Lena��s balcony, when a hand lands on her wrist.

“Hey.” Lena anchors her back to the ground. It’s a mistake to turn and meet Lena’s eyes.

“Stay? Please?” Lena asks.

Unfair, Kara thinks again. It’s unfair that she gets to ask that.

******

Kara stays.

She stays till the lights are off, the blankets drawn and Lena’s snoring in her arms.

She’s eyeing the suitcase at the corner of the room.

I forgive you, she thinks, I forgive you for taking my heart in the suitcase you packed.

She didn’t even know it was trapped inside till Lena’s zipping everything up and Kara couldn’t breathe.

“Please, please, don’t go,” she pleads into the dark. .

Lena shifts, mumbles incoherently and burrows deeper into Kara.

******

The runway is shimmering after the early morning drizzle, and Lena Luthor looks like someone from a magazine, standing there in her velvet coat and aviators. There’s only the two of them, and there’s a smug pride in Kara about the fact that Lena didn’t want anybody here but her.

She’s leaving today. In a few hours, they’ll be on different continents. Kara wouldn’t be able to trace her heartbeat anymore. Lena made her promise not to chase the plane. She’s still pretty bummed about that.

“You know I’m gonna call you everyday, right?” Kara mutters in her ear, arms wrapped tight around Lena.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from Kara Danvers.” Lena squeezes back, before pulling away.

“G-good.”

“Well, this is my ride,” Lena tells her, gestures to the jet behind her. “This is goodbye then.”

“For now.” Kara insists.

“For now.” Lena confirms, “Goodbye, for now.”

She turns to go but Kara can’t-

“Lena, wait.”

She tugs on Lena’s hand and she comes back to her willingly. Before Kara loses the nerve, she presses into Lena’s lips. She cups her face gently, feels the warmth of the sun on her cheeks, feels the moment Lena’s brain catches up to what’s happening.

It doesn’t taste like goodbye, Kara realizes. It tastes like a promise of something more.

“What was that for?” Lena breathes out, Kara can hear their hearts hammering in sync.

“Your reason to come back home.”

[special shoutout to @mssirey who gave great writing advice to this poor hapless writer（〃｀ 3′〃）i kith u on the forehead. ]