#the thing in the back was originally supposed to look more like the cue ball but it also looks like a sun

[pastabaguette]

grimdark rose, for fun. not entirely happy with the result, but i figure it looks kinda cool. you can use it as a profile picture or something, i suppose. just credit me if you do.

[imagoddamnonionmason]

Holidays at the Mason Home

Fandom: Call of Duty

Word Count: 1961

Relationships: Frank Woods x Bell OC

Characters: Frank Woods, Alex Mason, original female character

Summary: Bell, Woods and Mason play pool and then darts.

A/N: ok this is chapter 2 of Holiday at the Mason Home and even though it's literally the middle of the year I don't care- I had the idea and just had to get the brain worm out. It's an ongoing little fic, will be short, but is a little snippet into life after Solovetsky for Bell and her growing relationships, especially with Frank! Next chapter, you get to meet Mason's wife, Sarah and then their son, David.

also... I don't know if I ever posted chapter 1 in this format or if I just posted the link to ao3... either way, if you want to read chapter 1, it is available on ao3, account name the same as my Tumblr! there's a link somewhere on here- if you can't find it, dm me :3c

“Bell, why don’t you have a go?” Mason asked, once he had wiped the floor with Woods, leaving the other bristling slightly from the loss. The two had a decent competitive streak, so it was probably a good idea for one of them to let her take their place, unless the pool cues get snapped… all in good humour, but still they could get very competitive. 

“I don’t know how to play.” She admitted, after some time chewing the words between her teeth. They stared at her and she snapped, “this is why I didn’t want to mention-”

“What, no,” Woods wafted away her worries with a hand, “I’ll show you.” 

“You’ll lose, though,” Mason jabbed, “with him teaching you.” 

Woods was going to wipe that grin off his face. 

“Shithead,” he muttered. 

Bell rolled her eyes. 

Their antics were being watched. Woods didn’t like the feeling of holes being bored into the back of his head from eyes he’d told to mind their own business, and he moved to turn, only to have Bell catch his face in her hand and pull his attention back to her. He would never admit this, but it was easy for him to melt into her touch, to allow her to guide him. He put on a smile, inched closer to her, and part of him wondered where the pretending stopped. 

His arm was around her waist, hand resting against her hip, comfortable, and he became acutely aware of how she was moving, how her hand rested lightly against the centre of his back giving her balance as she stood against him. Woods’ breath hitched in the back of his throat and he forced his gaze away from her quickly, though kept an easy smile on his face. 

She didn’t seem to notice the slip of his toughened facade. God forbid Frank show her, or anyone else, what he was actually feeling. 

“So, how do we start this, then?” With her free hand, Bell gestured vaguely to the table. Mason had already started preparing the game, collecting the balls in their triangular formation at one end of the table and the white ball on the opposite. She made note of the two types - striped and full colour - and presumed she’d choose one and Mason the other. 

“You can go ahead and break,” Mason stood back, resting an arm on the hand that held the cue, shifting his weight to one foot. His eyes watched her, settled and calm, and he was patient. 

Bell looked at Woods, raised her brows as if to say ‘and that means?’

“Hit the other balls with the white ball,” he informed, “hard as you can.” 

“Simple enough,” she murmured, taking a cue resting against the table. She’d got a an idea of how to hold it from her few moments of watching them play, but the only thing her mind seem to register was the weight and feel of it in her hand and the advantage it could give her in a fight; it was difficult to force passed the years of militant programming, she supposed, and worked to push that thought aside. 

There will be no fighting tonight, she reminded herself, well… no more fighting.

Bell stood near the side of the table and she rested her hand on the green felt of the tabletop, focusing on the white ball - maybe she was taking it too seriously, but she hated being imperfect at anything. Trying her best to hit the ball, she did exactly as Woods had said, smacking it with all her strength. It careened into the others, sending them exploding out into different corners of the space. One by one, they all seemingly found a hole and plopped straight into them. A few danced about, then teetered on the edge. 

“Beginner’s luck,” Mason uttered, tutting slightly in annoyance - Woods was smug. 

“Did you mention she’d lose or something?” He questioned, a wide, tormenting smile on his face. Mason wanted to flip him the bird, but he remained sportsmanlike. 

“Did I do good?” She asked, turning to Woods with slight bewilderment and a sense of pride for not utterly failing. He nodded, quickly, “oh yeah, you did good. Now, stripes or colour. You gotta choose one. Then aim for ‘em.” 

Silently, she chose the stripes, trying her best to position herself for the hit. At first, it didn’t feel right, and when she stood back up, the men watched her carefully. 

Bell hovered down again, tried to hit the white and missed. 

Bowing her head, she whispered toward the table, “fuck.” 

There was a slight burn in the palm of her hands and if she were in the habit of admitting her feelings, she might say she was embarrassed; why? She couldn’t say. It couldn’t be anything to do with the men that she stood with, no not at all. Inwardly, he rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. 

Her grip shifted on the pool cue, as she raised her head to watch the white with a thin glare.

Then, she felt a warm presence next to her, hands gently shifting her pose, voice saying, “lift a little, relax, then go again.” 

She tried. 

Missed. 

“Beginner’s luck didn’t last, huh?” Mason teased, good heartedly. 

Standing up straight, she felt like launching the cue across the room; she even imagined it in her mind’s eye, watching it crash in the distance; in reality, her grip tightened on it as the end rested against her foot and floor. Woods chuckled, which did not help the burning feeling in her chest and he stood slightly to her left. His attention was then back on her, “I said relax.” 

Guiding her down into the pose she’d had before, he ghosted her, left hand over her left on the table, his other guiding her cue arm. His face was so close to hers and when he gently spoke his instructions, his voice sent shivers up her spine. Bell could feel his words on the skin of her ear, warm, gentle, encouraging, and she took a deep breath and hit the ball. 

She sent another stripe into a hole. 

“Atta girl,” he murmured, low enough just for her to hear. 

Just as Bell began to get used to his presence next to her, he was moving away, and it left her feeling a little empty - she shook that feeling away immediately. 

“Again?” She asked, wishing that she could just let Mason take his turn - having eyes on her was not something she wanted right at that moment. 

“Yeah. Just until you miss or have none left.” This was Mason. 

This attempt was met with success, but she did not manage to send this stripe into an unsuspecting hole - it pinged against one side of the table, then chipped off the very edge and sailed slowly to the centre. It sat there, miserable and alone. 

“Not bad,” Mason offered, “but now, it’s my turn.” 

Unfortunately for Bell, Mason was skilled at the game - he pocketed all of his remaining colours until only the eight ball was left and then he shrugged and pocketed that, too. It was over in a flash and Bell’s last remaining stripe remained lonely in the middle of the table. She eyed it, then moved her gaze aside to the adjacent wall of the venue. 

“Why don’t we have a game of darts?” she asked, head nodding towards the board, “I played your game. You play mine.” 

The two men had been in the throes of what would look like an argument to an outsider but, to those who knew them, it was clear that they were throwing jabs each other’s way - Woods had taken a slightly defensive standpoint, something along the lines of she never played before. Mason’s standpoint was no mercy. 

Bell appreciated both sides. 

“Alright, who’re you going against first?” Mason asked, as he started to walk over signalling the end of the ‘argument’ between him and Woods. He brought his half drunk beer with him and his other hand nestled in the pocket of his jeans. He seemed truly relaxed for once, rather than the slight telltale that he was on edge whenever he was at work. 

Bell shook her head, pointing at the two of them, “both of you against me.”

“Pfft, easy.” Woods. 

Confident in himself, as always.

Now this time, he would have to agree with Mason; no mercy. The woman had clearly chosen a game she thought she’d best them at and he’d love to prove her wrong, garnered by that competitive streak that he shared with his brother-in-arms. 

“Sure.” Mason. 

Relaxed but an air about him betrayed his eagerness to win just as much as Woods. 

Bell knew they were decent when it came to marksmanship and their aim was always solid - but this was darts and most of her childhood had been passed by playing nothing else. There were well over a few other reasons in the bank, but she wasn’t about to start telling everyone her training regime from the 50s. 

The two men had set themselves up, taken their shots, and proven that, yes, they could hit the board. Everyone’s goal was to hit the bullseye, but they fell short - sometimes by a little and sometimes by a lot. This made her smile and she removed her jacket, placing it on the pool table, before she took the six darts from Woods. Three each for them, six for her - evenly balanced attempts to score; it was fair. 

Well, until she started playing. 

First hit. Bullseye. 

Then the second. 

The third. 

Fourth. 

Fifth. 

“What the fuck. That. That can’t…” Woods had his arms crossed over his chest, a defeated frown on his face and at a loss for words. Mason looked extremely impressed, but not surprised in the slightest.

“Sorry,” she turned her head to them, “did you say something?” 

The sixth landed in the bullseye. 

At this point, the bullseye was heaving with darts, overcrowded and crying for them to be removed, if only to allow it to breathe again. 

“You didn’t even look,” Woods huffed, stepping up to the board to check that his eyes weren’t deceiving him. 

“I don’t have to,” she shrugged, prideful, smug, “I’m just that good.” 

Through a laugh, both Woods and Mason uttered, “fuck off.” 

“The proof is there,” she gestured, eyes skimming the venue - in their time being focused on pool and darts, Cliff who had been previously hunched over at the table, tail between his legs and deflated in his rejection, had gotten up and left. 

“The admirer has gone,” she informed Woods, when all three of them came to collect themselves at the bar, a last sit down before they would decide to head off home. Mason raised a brow at his friend when he noticed that his arm was still around her shoulders and part of him wanted to shake his head in exasperation - if he could bang their heads together and make them see just how obvious they were, he would. But he didn’t feel like handing out concussions like candy on halloween. 

“Oh, so he has,” Woods finished the drink he’d been sipping on, placing it on the bar as he reluctantly gave up the charade of husband. Mason could read his friend like an open book; he supposed it was because he wasn’t just a friend, more a brother, and he’d spent a lot of his life with the damn hothead - maybe he’d speak with him later, about Bell, about the two of them together. 

“Let’s go, Sarah will be getting worried,” Mason sighed. 

The three left the venue, headed to Mason’s pickup, and started the arduous journey to his home through the snowy weather.

[maguro13-2]

The Dark Picture REPAINT ~ Origins of the Ink Demon : Operation Drawcia Finale (14/14)

Adeleine : Huh? What happened? What's going on? Did the time traveler managed to create the New Era?

Ribbon : I can't tell the difference, we're back where we are. At this rate, it feels like that we're in the new era. Glad that's over...

Paint Roller : What a relief, we would've been toast for sure.

Waddle Dee : Glad that we're not "balls" anymore.

Wadd;e Doo : More like ball Man. (Starts laughing and weezing)

Adeleine : (with an angry groans)

Waddle Doo : Sorry, I just had to get that out.

Meta Knight : Now we understand what the Canvas Curse really happened. If Adeleine created Drawcia in the first place, how did Ado not know about her being the founder of Drawcia Family Corporation?

Adeleine : Until about her, Nobody knows why? That I...Adeleine is really, who am i...? I have no Idea of who I am...If Ado isn't really my sister, then what is "Ado"?

Waddle Dee : Huh? You don't know who you really are, Adeleine? I mean you are adeleine...But what exactly is...Ado?

Adeleine : When I dropped a frame on the floor, I realize that there is one photo hidden from Ado's picture. And take a look of this guest.

King Dedede : Freaky. I wonde what's that supposed to mean.

Adeleine : It means that there are two "Ados" in this picture.

(the picture shows two Ados)

Ribbon : What the-!?

Waddle Doo : ...Holy Crap! Adeleine is really Ado! You're the original!

Meta Knight : After the fall of Zero or Zero Two, you disappeared on that day and we discovered that Adeleine has been Ado the entire time.

Adeleine : If Ado isn't really my sister, then who is the other Ado?

Ado (?) : Sister, what a pleasant surprise to meet your return.

[cues Metamorphosis by Sota Fujimori]

Kirby : Yah.

Waddle Doo :What the-?

Adeleine : Who are you? And what are you on about? You're not my sister!

Ado (?) : (chuckles) I am copy of the "original" you, the other Adeleine. But you can call me...Dark Adeleine.

Adeleine : Dark Adeleine?

Dark Adeleine : Yeah, it was my desire to make you look like a fool.

Dark Adeleine : And oh, congratulations on helping me and Drawcia get rid of the DWMA, the subsidiary to the World Heroes Force Organization led by Shinra Kusakabe.

Adeleine : World Heroes Force was the DWMA's true identity? I helped you to get rid of a subsidiary from World Heroes Force?

Dark Adeleine : Splendid. (snickers)

Adeleine : Typical. I knew it. So it was you that wanted to put an end to everything!

Meta Knight : Who knew that an evil copy of Adeleine was created to destroy a subsidiary to the organization like that?

King Dedede : But why on earth would you do it?

Dark Adeleine : To tell you one's truth, there is no such thing is courage or being the hero like the devil was, and to that, the madness that everyone's keep talking about...was pure Blasphemy.

Adeleine : (clenches fist) What?

Dark Adeleine : And now with the DWMA out of the way...who is going to make a future about the Ohkuboverse...? N

Dark Adeleine in Action : Not!

Ribbon : Adeleine, How could you do something like this to me? After all we've been through?

Dark Adeleine : It's easy, cause the Ohkuboverse is nothing like the Mashimaverse, and that is why everyone believes in magic. That's why Drawcia wanted to get rid of the DWMA because...she could not take it no more due to the Influence of Shinra Kusakabe.

Ribbon : So the Legacy that they were cherishing, was a piece of heart all along.

Dark Adeleine : Yes, a piece of heart made out of the eight hearts of all eight sacrifices, like the seven lights and the thirteen darknesses.

Adeleine : [To Dark Adeleine] You feeding piece of sh*t. You've been doing this to me, haven't you?

Waddle Dee : You mean...Adeleine has been Ado all along and you are just literally a copy.

Paint Roller : Who do you think you are? You said that Soul Eater was about Halloween and stuff.

Dark Adeleine : No it's not, all of those crazy-mad ass stories is a manga, is pure weirdness when it comes to Halloween. In fact, Soul Eater isn't halloween season at all, you tattle tales. Halloween is for everyone.

Adeleine : You've been telling on me that Shinra Kusakabe wanted to created the world of Soul Eater that is about halloween?

Dark Adeleine : Yeah, for anyone who thought Madness was pure blasphemy, all thanks to Shinra Kusakabe himself, who'd been trick r treating as the devil himself, given candy from the girl name Seto. But this is like taking candy from a baby, and which is fine by me.

Adeleine : We've already known about Halloween, but you're tricks won't stop us this time, you poser.

Dark Adeleine : Oh no, this is no trick, dear Adeleine. This is a treat. (holds out a sample of the Ink Demon's blood)

Adeleine : The Ink Demon's Royal Blood!

Dark Adeleine : This is a real trick r Treating fact for you, it's like Halloween all over again, and the best to celebrate this holiday is demons their selves.

Oswald : How about Smell my feet, and I'll something too sweet.

*STAB*

Dark Adeleine : Uh!? What--? No! You can't...You Tricked me!

Oswald : Now there's a real trick or treat for you! Hahahaha!

[cues Blaze Pinch by Teruhiko Nakagawa]

Ribbon : Oswald the Lucky Rabbit?

Oswald the Black Rabbit : Wrong!? I am his twin, Oswald the Black Rabbit!

Adeleine : What? Two Oswalds? What the hell?!

Dark Adeleine : You bastard...I'll get you for this. (before dying) NOOOOOOOOOO! (Fades from existence)

Oswald the Black Rabbit : At long last, I I'll make the queen truly despicably proud and might be greater that I have the power to make myself a beast! See you on the other side of the hemisphere.

(uses Ink to create a door before he escape)

Paint Roller : Hey! He's getting away!

Oswald : (imitates German accent) Hast la Vista, Suckers! Time for me to create my ultimate master plan of creating a device that will wrapped the world in Black, it's for the Dark Picture to shine!

(goes into the door before it vanishes)

Adeleine : Damn it! We're too late!

Ribbon : Oh no! Oswald still going at it, after that time traveler created the new era? There's goes one thing's for sure, it's us or we'll be totally rabbit soup for him. But don't mention about the tomato soup, it's still good about it.

Paint Roller : It's everyone thinks about the context, it's always soup. So with the DWMA still gone, and never existed, we're going to save the world together!

Ribbon : And I my suggestions that Crona copy Xemnas killed was just a decoy, the actual copy of the human prince Crona is alive!

Waddle Doo : I found the location of Oswald at the radar. Oswald is at Inky Albarn's birthplace.

Ribbon : Where can the birthplace be? If it's not Japan...then where did the Original Maka Albarn born at...?

Adeleine : The true place that Inky Albarn was born...is the same city that her human copy grew up at after the explosion around 10 years ago.

Ribbon : San Francisco! But we have no idea where he went off to...

Adeleine : But how are we gonna get to the city we're too far out and we don't have any warp starts that are stuck in this country we originated from and surrounded by oceans.

Paint Roller : Well...There's gotta someway we can do it for our selves. If we can stop Oswald all together, we can finally save the world. But how are we going to stop that mad rabbit of taking over the world with Ink?

Tsugumi Harudori : Say, pleasse, sir.

Meta Knight : [To Tsugumi] Tsugumi Harudori! I mean...Sir Halberd Knight!

Tsugumi Harudori : Let's just say that I have a friend who take care of the ship. Aoba's a great friend to me.

Meta Knight : Everyone! Follow me to the Ship.

[Cues Advent of Stray Idola by Kenichi Tokoi]

All : Roger!

(changes to the Halberd preparing to Launch)

Tsugumi Harudori : Alright, Aoba. Prepare for Launch!

Aoba Tsuzaki : Aye, Sir!

Tsugumi Harudori : Is everyone ready?

All : We're ready to do with full throttle!

Aoba Tsuzaki : All is forgiven.

Tsugumi Harudori : Set a course to America!

Aoba Tsuzaki : Onward!

Adeleine : Looks like our battle isn't over yet. I still see someone having their tricks up in their sleeve.

Waddle Dee : So are you willing to save the world Adeleine?

Adeleine : Yes...I have only just begun to save myself.

*DBZ SFX : Surprise*

Adeleine : time to begin my final mission! This is the end of the line!

"Adeleine's Final Mission begins..."

"With the DWMA in it's ultimate downfall...who will stand victorious?"

"It's time that we finally put everything together in this one plan."

"The name of this world Real World AU suits you well."

"With your strength and valorous effort of saving our planet..."

"You now have powers of rainbow horse power..."

Adeleine Ah...!?

[cues Astro Boy's Theme by Takashi Yoshimatsu]

Adeleine : What's happening!?

(A Rainbow appears over Adeleine's brush)

Adeleine : Hey, what's going on? My brush!

Ribbon : Is that...?

*DBZ/One Piece SFX : Big Aura+Burst*

Adeleine : Woah...! My brush...

(the Magical Paintbrush appears once again)

Adeleine : My brush has been the Magical Paintbrush the entire time! This is what Drawcia has given me to fulfill her promise!

Paint Roller : Drawcia's brush! It came back to it's senses!

Ribbon : Wow, Adeleine! With the Paintbrush's power sprung back into action, you can finally use it on your own, but wield wisely. Otherwise it will go berserk.

Adeleine : Thanks, Ribbon. I won't forget that. Now then...

"This is really what my family has been told."

"Coming from a line of painters, I finally still have unlocked the Magical Paintbrush's true potential."

"Could this power to sweep the darkness away with one light?"

Adeleine : (smiles) ...Heh! Alright! Let's the paint the world to it's full colors! Time to go face to face with the Lucky Rabbit!

~ THE BATTLE BETWEEN COLORS AND INK IS ON ~

[mi6021alishia]

Moving Forward

When I was little I had a story I made up for an English  assignment in Primary school, I'll post it here if my mum can track it down, but essentially it was about a team of superheros who lived together but didn't really get along but were put together by an organisation. It was like a school for heros because their powers shouldn't be known by the public. (My storytelling back then was horrendous, basically just lots of angst and and concepts I thought would be cool at the time haha) There was a character in the story who was a shapeshifter and she had a bad attitude and self esteem issues. The concept for the character was probably based on me and a friend of mine who would pretend to be different animals like wolves, cats, rabbits, etc because wouldn't it be cool to actually be able to transform into those animals instead of it being just pretend? I took this character and decided to think about a fun concept for her shapeshifting, and I thought it would be cool if she used masks to transform, or if she had a singular plain mask that would warp so that she could transform into looking however she wanted to. I decided to still keep the link with animals as nod to the original story by having the masks be animal themed.

All the thinking about masks however got me thinking about myself and the concept of masking. I'm currently waiting for a referal for an autism diagnosis after multiple of my autistic friends told me they were shocked I hadn't been diagnosed years ago. Masking is basically like you have this clay in your hands and you observe the people around you, you hear all the taunts from them that you get for doing things that you think are normal, and you mold the mask to fit into these social situations. Not one more person asking why your so weird, no more embarassed, frustrated tears, no more bullying. The mask is continually molded overtime for every time you misread social cues, everytime you make a 'mistake' in socialising. For me there is a mask for every group I'm interacting with, one for interacting with women, one for men, variations based on age, where I know them from, their interests and personality types, I mold myself like a lump of clay to fit with the person they want me to be. Sometimes you still slip up tho and sometimes, actually, all the time, it is so draining that experiencing anything at all is completely and utterly overwhelming and you need to put on sound cancelling headphones, turn off all the lights and curl up in a ball. During 2nd year at uni, I met someone who made me feel a safe feeling I'd never actually felt before, it was warm, unfamiliar and brought me to tears, it still does. Someone who accepts me without the mask, who saw through it from the start, someone who is patiently by my side as I'm learning who I was before I started masking.

Growing up I was forced to make eye contact that I found overwhelming to prove I was listening, forced to go to events that were overcrowded to me, that were therefore too loud, had too many smells and the accidental  touches from strangers was unbearable, wearing clothes that had awful textures. I was even chastised for eating one thing at a time on my plate instead of mixing my food, among other things. I do those things in private but in public I'm very concious about how I do things, I'm slowly unlearning that. Often times I don't feel like I even recognise myself or my own feelings versus the feelings of those around me or the feelings I think I'm supposed to have. My boyfriend has really aided in getting me to learn who I am, how I feel, the fact that I'm allowed to communicate about experiencing a sensory overload and even the patience of waiting for me to take my time to figure out why I'm experiencing it (whether it be a smell, a feeling, a noise, bright lights etc) I am supremely grateful for this patience. I am glad I ended up on this story because of how I can tie it into the symbolic idea of masking to get through social situations and how there are those that will accept your true form even if it isn't perfect, if it has rough edges and is even maybe a little ugly or distasteful to others. It may have taken a lot of delays to land on this idea and a LOT of wasted time researching multiple other story concepts but we finally got there and thats the important part.

[leomlarson]

Leo laughed, taking a sip of his IPA with a sheepish shrug. He was still pretty young, sure, but sometimes he felt like he was still a freshman in college — eighteen or nineteen and invincible. He kept himself in good enough shape, but sometimes he'd feel an ache come on in his knees after biking for too long, in a way it never did when he was younger, and he'd go into a mini existential crisis. It was the little things, even Bryan Cranston and Aaron Paul's tequila, that kept him sane.

"Ah, but that'd take too long," Leo said with a wave. "Don't worry about me, though, I won't get too fucked up, and if I am, then bully me into leaving the bike here and calling an Uber."

He took a step back to let Paxton have free reign over the table, leaning up against the wall and taking another sip of his drink as he listened. "Oh, I highly doubt that," he said at Paxton's light disparagement of himself. He didn't like when people, especially people as evidently good as Paxton, spoke ill of themselves, but he didn't push. Instead, he leaned forward using his cue as a staff and listened intently, his eyes progressively widening more and more at the ghost story.

Of course he believed in ghosts; he grew up listening to his grandmother talking about banshees. His mouth was agape by the time Paxton had finished, barely registering that the other man had made his shot. "Holy shit. And you never saw it again? God, if that were me, I don't think I would've slept until I saw it again. You're lucky it was a benevolent one. I hear they can get pretty aggressive sometimes."

Leaving his drink on the nearest high top, he stepped forward to take his next shot, a tricky one that involved creating some backspin to get the cue ball to stop before it could fall into a pocket and scratch. "Hm... favorite student teacher experience..." He let his left hand push the cue forward, grinning as the ball did exactly what it was supposed to and sent another solid into a pocket. Leo looked back up at Paxton. "So I'm a faculty sponsor for the GSA, which is basically just a designated place for the all of the queer kids to hang out after school and talk. One of my favorite students — maybe my favorite, actually — showed up a couple weeks ago. She seemed really scared, but she came back the next week, and again this week, and she told me that she felt comfortable coming because I'm the one looking after them. I don't know...not many feelings have topped the one I got when she told me that."

"Okay, my turn again." He hummed, considering a question. "Why comic books? What drew you to them and that kind of art? And do you have any original characters hidden away somewhere that I will most definitely ask to see if you say yes?"

@paxton-brady

"Tequila."

Paxton looks to Leo knowingly, the grin on his face nothing short of bemused. "Reminds me of college. Just without the salt and the lime." In the rare instances he was able to be pried off the walls and to the foreground to throw back a shot with one of his classmates. "Why… don't you just walk next to your bike instead of trying to ride it?" His hands wring against the pool cue when all the possibilities of what could go wrong come to mind, and the worry works into the downward curl of his frown. Falling onto cement and hitting his head or into traffic or—

Stop.

Pax takes a quick swig of his beer. The game. He can focus on the game. The one that starts off quick with Leo's precision in pocketing his first ball. "Oh, uhm. I'm a very boring person, let me think about this." His bottom lip is chewed on while Paxton thinks of anything but his accident, because he is not starting this hangout with that kind of oversharing.

"When I will a little kid, I'd go one weekend a month at my grandparents' house. From my mom's side, I was their only grandson, so I got spoiled. But the house they lived in always creaked in the night. Sounded like someone was always walking around the halls in slippers, but they'd just tell me it was the wind." Paxton begins to line up his own shot, eyeing the table and leaning over to look to the striped ball right on the edge of a pocket, an easy shot to make even with lack of skill.

"Jump to when I was maybe six, I remember waking up at three in the morning the use the bathroom, saw some figure down the hall and we stared each other down, until it, like, whooshed—" because that's the best word to describe a shadow moving— "Into the closest room and a door slammed."

He mirrors Leo's action with less finesse, nearly scratching the white but considering the position of the ball he's aiming for, it drops right in. "I don't know, I finished my task and went back to sleep, and I asked about it in the morning. Maybe I had too much sugar before bed." And an overactive imagination.

"Alright! What has been your most favorite student teacher experience?"

[minilpark]

good game

pairing: hangman x reader

warnings: mean words exchanged, sexual tension, one swear word

genre: uhh enemies/rivals to lovers (in the literal sense), implied smut at the end

a/n: this was originally supposed to be a small fic idea like my other hangman one, but i got carried away and so now it's a blurb lmao- also this isn't edited so forgive me if there are grammar or spelling issues

y/c/s - your callsign

while lining your cue up, you half-jokingly state, "you know, maybe if you had been a team player for once, you wouldn't have had to do as many push-ups as you did today."

once the words fell off your tongue, could feel jake burning a hole into the back of your head as you sank the last solids into the pockets.

the two of you have been acquainted with each other since flight school. to say you didn't like him was a bit of an understatement. yet, these last few weeks being recalled back to top gun, you could feel a shift in the air between you two. some would say you're losing that spark of dislike if that was even a thing, whereas phoenix would say there was definitely some tension, but more so sexual now- course, you didn't believe her, but looking up at him after you sunk the 8-ball said otherwise.

"...aaand that's game once again, seresin. how many times have you lost against me now? at this point, i don't think it's possible for you to win, unless...you're playing with rooster of course." you smirked while poor bradley held his hands up in offense.

jake scoffed, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek while he adjusted the way his signature toothpick sat in his mouth.

"yeah whatever, y/c/s. and for the record, i almost had maverick today. pops was just playing dirty-"

you shake your head while handing the cue off to bob before making your way closer to jake, "almost isn't good enough seresin, and you know-" you poke his chest while looking him in the eye, "better than anyone, that when you're in the air, the enemy doesn't care about fairness. you either be a team player, or you sit on the sidelines."

at this point, jake was internally fuming while looking at you, sure you may have had a valid point, but it didn't make him any less annoyed; yet, he still found a stir of butterflies in his stomach when you touched him and the proximity between you two.

he clenched his jaw before staring you down, "you know, you act like such a know-it-all, y/c/s, but lets be honest with each other, you're still not the best pilot in this group. you have potential, sure, but when it really comes down to it, you can't make the hard decisions or quick calls. you don't have the technical skill you think you do either."

did jake really mean what he said to you, a little bit yes, but not in the harsh way it was delivered. you didn't let it affect you though, you two always said things to get a rise out of each other after all, but this was definitely the kicker.

rolling your eyes, you tilt your head making eye contact with him once again and chuckle, "god, you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid." which earned you a choking sound from coyote and fanboy in the corner with payback patting his back, phoenix smirking, while rooster and bob held in a laugh while continuing their game.

as for jake, you could see the blush creep up on his face and while his ears tinged with red. for once, you found him speechless and yet it said everything you needed to hear.

needless to say, everyone knew where the two of you went after the bar closed.

[simjyun]

─── ✰ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐘 02. aired out

it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for jake to cancel one of his many sneaky links just to be with you. no matter what people may think, he’d prefer to be with you than to be on his various rendezvous with the girls he cant seem to remember the name of. you were his best friend and the most important person in his life, so it came to no surprise that he would drop everything to be at your side whether you needed him or not.

his eyes began to wander around the room, feeling familiar with everything as he’s been in your room more than he can count.

“jake i am not wearing this tshirt out on my date with ning.” you huffed out, your eyes meeting his amused ones.

“why? i think you look good in my clothes, angel.” jake chuckled.

you were not amused in the slightest at the boy’s actions. rolling your eyes, you found yourself slipping the shirt that was hiding your original outfit, off of your body before tossing it back to the boy who was leaning against your vanity. his eyes followed as you grabbed a necklace from beside him before striding back to the mirror in the middle of your room.

“weren’t you supposed to be seeing aera today?”

jake’s face visibly scrunched at the mention of the girl— aera being one of his many exes that always seemed to come back to him for a good fuck.

“i’m getting tired of her coming back.”

you raised your brows in amusement. “you say that yet you continue to meet her every two business weeks.”

hands struggling to clasp your necklace, you huffed out. the boy seemed to realize your struggle before calling you over.

you walked over, finding yourself standing between jake’s legs, facing the wall as you waited for him to be done with the clasp of your necklace. “can’t miss the opportunity no matter who it is.”

“you’re gross, sim.”

feeling his hands on your hips before turning you around to face him, he sighed out. “besides that, promise me you’ll call me if you run into any problems or weird fucks.”

“promise.” you rolled your eyes before smiling at the boy for reassurance.

before jake could reply, the vibration of your phone caught the attention of the both of you, the notification revealing a text from ningning.

my luv <3: i’m here bae and tell jake he smells like dick cheese and has sticky balls xoxo

jake scoffed at the message while you laughed lightly at the jab towards the boy.

“andd that’s my cue. make sure to lock up before you leave please.” jake placed a small kiss on your temple before releasing you from his hold, something he always did. “that’s if you do.”

“remember to call me if you need me.”

“yes yes i know jake. i’m leaving now, love you!”

“love you too, angel.”

the only thing heard was the sound of your door closing and the sighs of jake.

─── ✰ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐘 ✧ MASTERLIST

PREV // NEXT

⌗— SYNOPSIS you had a somewhat interesting life. for one, you were attached to the hip to jake sim, your best friend as well as a known heartthrob at your uni. though notorious for his player reputation, he was the sweetest to you and treated you like no other— but he was also the root of many of your problems.

taglist

@hobistigma @luvrseung @yougeans @enhacolor @n1k1tty @p2arks

[writing-in-april]

Dear Diana,

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Spencer can’t stop gushing about how much he loves you to his mom. What happens when he leaves it in a place where someone can find it before he sends it off?

A/N: | Original Request |This took way longer then I would’ve liked, but I’m really really happy with how it came out. It also kind of spawned a non-linear series I’m starting called Spencer Reid & Letters. I loved this request so much 🥰 @spencers-dria came up with the amazing title for this fic that really helped me get the ball rolling, thank you ☺️ I’ve got another fic out tomorrow as well!! Requests are open and thank you for reading!

Warnings: Spencer being guilty about not visiting his mom as much & Secret Relationship (Because their relationship hasn’t been going on for very long)

Main Masterlist Word count: 1.7k

Letters may be regarded by most as a form of communication that has been rendered obsolete by the sands of time. But, there was something different about writing a letter rather than sending a simple email, shooting a text, or even calling someone. The act of writing out your thoughts so carefully crafted for the intended individual before being sealed away and sent off, made every word just that much more special.

Spencer and you both put letters on a pedestal of importance, you both cherished when words were written down in ink and given a sort of permanence in the world. You knew that Spencer wrote a letter to his mom everyday, to Diana, the woman who had raised the genius you loved even after just a few short months of dating. Diana was held in such high regard by Spencer, once he had opened up to you about her condition and you had assured him the stories about her immediately started flowing.

He was writing one of those lovely letters to her now you observed as you sat across from your own desk. You had been able to observe Spencer writing his letters a few times before even before you two had started dating, the one he was writing right now was decidedly different. As his pen scurried across the paper in a fast pace you wondered if maybe he was writing someone else of importance. When he wrote his letters to Diana they were normally carefully curated works of art, using any time he had to craft the perfect words to tell her about his day. He once told you he did this because of his guilt from not going to visit her as often as he’d like, which only made you want to tell him that even though you had never met her that she was in no doubt proud of her only son.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his frantic writing while taking a sip of your own coffee, one that was almost just as full of sugar as Spencer’s. The thought that maybe he was writing to Ethan crossed your mind, they hadn’t talked in quite a while. You were still wondering about what the letter contained, hoping mostly that it wasn’t anything concerning or serious that was causing him to frantically write. However, the large stack of paperwork still unfinished stole back your attention for the moment

——

The letter came back to the front of your mind when Morgan got up to peer over at what Spencer had been writing after he got up to go get a fresh cup of coffee. You immediately stood up to protest, you didn’t want him prying into Spencer’s privacy. But, before you could move your feet fast enough to make the small distance from your desk to Spencer's, Morgan was already right in front of you.

“You and Spencer? You- and Pretty Boy?” You sputtered at his words, unable to come up with an immediate response that would deflect his line of questioning. How had he found out?

Looking down slightly you noticed the letter that Spencer had been penning before he had gotten up to make his coffee, he must have put something into his letter for Diana that had Morgan connect the dots. The way you floundered when Morgan questioned you was definitely extremely suspicious to him, but you decided to object to his ‘assumptions’. However, you were quickly cut off by Morgan starting to read and excerpt from the stolen letter,

“Normally, I would never go to the park to go to a picnic, but there’s something about Y/N that makes all the statistics about germs fall from my head. The time we spent there had been like being stuck in an idyllic paradise, though I’m convinced it would’ve been perfect no matter where we had gone, as long as Y/N was there. Mom, I think I’m falling in love with them.”

The words made your stomach dance with butterflies, you yourself had told Spencer that you were falling in love with him the week prior. You hadn’t been offended at all when Spencer couldn’t quite find the words to reciprocate right away, only saying a quiet me too when he thought you had been asleep. That alone had meant so much to you, you knew that the fact that he was starting to open up to you meant a lot for him and you didn’t want to push him at all.

“It- It hasn’t been very long…” There was no way you could deny what Morgan had read outloud, unless you wanted to call Spencer a liar, which he definitely wasn’t. The date that he had been writing about was just as he had described, it had been perfect in every way.

“How long? Morgan looked smug at your confirmation, almost like he had seen this coming. But, you knew just by how his voice sounded when he had first questioned you that he had been surprised.

“We just hadn’t gotten around to telling you all yet.” You hadn’t wanted to confirm exactly how long it had been going on, not wanting to make it anymore of a big deal then it already was.

“How long?” He pried again, not discouraged at all despite your obvious deflection.

“What’s going on?” Ah, Spencer was back. You cursed a little under your breath, you had wanted to do this on your own terms. Even Hotch didn’t know yet and you both were technically supposed to already disclose it with HR.

“The thing I love most about Y/N- Well, I can’t really pick. I love everything about them.” You cringed when Morgan started reading again. You were definitely happy about what Spencer had written, but you would have rather explained the situation to Spencer yourself. Morgan then rolled up the letter, then smacking it on Spencer’s head before asking again, “How long?”

“Four months, we wanted to wait a bit before telling everyone else.” Spencer piped up shyly, taking a big gulp of his coffee after he had spoken to partially hide his blushing features.

“Four months?!” Now it was his turn to sputter, though his disbelief quickly disappeared and was replaced with a burning question. “Can I tell Garcia?”

You looked sideways at Spencer silently asking with your eyes if it was for Morgan to share his ‘findings’ with the rest of the team. The rosey blush on his cheeks deepened a bit more as he nodded in agreement. His flushed cheeks were probably due to the anticipation of the relentless teasing we would now get from the team, but you knew they’d be doing it out of love for you both. You then confirmed bashfully,

“You can tell Garcia, Morgan.”

“She won’t believe me unless she has proof.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you both, subtly asking permission to show the letter Spencer had written. Sighing deeply you were about to say no when another voice interjected.

“You can show her.” Surprising you Spencer spoke, agreeing to let Morgan show Garcia the letter, though his cheeks looked impossibly red at this point. Morgan was awash with glee at his words and immediately turned to go towards Garcia’s bat cave.

“Hey- Garcia! Look at this letter Pretty Boy was writing!” You knew once Penelope got a hold of it there was no way it wasn’t spreading to the rest of the team, and probably the whole building. But, you didn’t mind, even though the contents of the letter still made you blush hard. You still couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that Spencer had said all those things about you and- the fact that he wanted to share every word with everyone.

“Why did you agree to let him show her? I don’t mind at all, I just-” You blurted out loud to him then trailing off when your words started to lose their confidence. Again, you didn’t mind if the team knew, you just didn’t think Spencer would want to be so open so soon. Spencer made his way back to his desk, new cup of coffee in hand, totally unfazed by your words.

“I decided I want everyone to know exactly how I feel about you.” You looked over at him with wide eyes, stunned into silence by his simple words that made your heart flutter and swell. When he noticed that you were still processing his words he turned around from his pursuit to his desk to press a kiss to your forehead before going back to work.

—-

Later that day in your apartment after work, you sat down to write a letter of your own. The letters you wrote were always composed at the same place, the desk that sat in your apartment was almost solely used for said letters, which was unlike Spencer who wrote them on any surface he could (As long as it was clean).

After Morgan’s discovery, the rest of your work day had been filled with questions bombarded at you by everyone that the letter had been spread to. Instead of focusing on that and excitedly answering questions that were thrown at you, your mind was fixated on something else. You couldn’t stop thinking about who the discovered letter had been intended for in the first place, Spencer’s mom. The fact that Spencer had wanted to share all of his feelings about you to Diana made your heart burst.

The letter you had sat down to write was intended for her as well, you wanted her to know your own feelings for Spencer and to assure her that you would take care of him. At first all the words that you could use to describe your feelings for Spencer seemed impossible to be able to write down, but you decided to take a cue from Spencer. Instead of carefully crafting every word you were going to say to her you just began to furiously write.

Dear Diana,

—

Tag list (Message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky

Spencer Reid/CM

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss

Spencer Reid & Letters Series: (Group of Unlinked fluff fics about Spencer and Letters)

@sierraraeck @90spumkin

[therenlover]

Orestes Fasting and Pylades Drunk (A Young Revolutionary!Zemo x Non-Binary Reader Oneshot)

(a/n: so, in honor of barricade day, have this young revolutionary!Zemo fic, which is basically just canon Enjoltaire dynamics but with a Zemo/reader twist on it, because that dynamic is literally my whole heart. Consider this a weird twisted Les Mis au if you want to, but you don’t need to know the book or musical to enjoy this, if it can be enjoyed...) 

Synopsis: Helmut recalls the story of how he came to be the ruthless man he is and, more specifically, how he came into possession of his strange purple mask. 

Tags: Canon Compliant, Angst, Young!Zemo, Non-Binary!Reader, Death, Enemies to Friends With Benefits to Lovers????, Implied Sexual Content, Friendship, Pining, Revolution, Speedrunning A Slow Burn

Rating: M (+16) 

Warnings: Major Character Death, Implied Sexual Content, Gun Violence, Drinking, Minor Homophobia/Transphobia (it’s one sentence near the end and it’s very vague coming from Heinrich), Swearing, Survivor’s Guilt, Really Just Death Everywhere

Word Count: 10,200~

“What’s with the mask?” 

The question was innocent enough.

Sam posed it while lounging on the expensive couch of Zemo’s Riga apartment, head tilted back and eyes closed in silent contemplation. 

Bucky remained silent as Zemo glanced over from his place at the counter. Outside, the sun was long gone, giving way to a stunning moonrise over the city that poured through the stained glass windows and lit up the night with its glow. It was quiet, much quieter than things usually were between the trio. Still, things being quiet didn’t mean they weren’t tense.

Clenching his teeth, he took in a long breath through his nose. “I am unsure what you mean by that, Sam,” 

“The mask,” Sam pushed, “you know, the one you wore during the fight in Madripoor. What’s the deal with that?” 

“Ah yes. That mask,” As if on cue, Zemo took a long swig from his glass. It burned all the way down. He didn’t speak again, though, instead choosing to let his gaze fall on the elaborate tilework above his countertops, tracing the patterns with his eyes. Anything to divert himself from the thoughts that rushed back into his mind at the thought of the knit piece of cloth that sat firmly in his inner coat pocket. 

Unfortunately for him, Sam wasn’t satisfied with letting the topic fizzle out. “Come on man,” he griped, rubbing a hand over his face, “we got you out of prison, so you owe us one. In fact, you owe us a lot. So, spill. What the hell is the deal with it? Were you Sokovian batman or something?”

That urged a dry laugh from the baron’s lips as he set his crystal glass on the counter with a little more force than was necessary. “Are you always so interested in your captives’ personal lives?” 

“Usually,” Bucky chimed in dryly. 

“I suppose I’m outnumbered,” Zemo sighed. The bile rising in his throat was easy enough to force down as he turned himself out on his stool to face the room. It wasn’t the right time for true weakness, not yet, but he couldn’t deny that painting himself in a desirable light and offering the pair honesty might give him the upper hand. So, he folded. 

Slowly he retrieved the purple mask from his coat and turned it over in his hands. It still fit after all the years it had sat gathering dust in his storage unit which was a blessing in its own right. It still served its original purpose too. That mask had seen horrors beyond imagination, had been washed clean of blood more times than could be counted. Did it hold the memories of the things it had seen within its fabrics as Zemo did in his mind? Or was it as naive as he had been at the time of its creation? He let out a bitter laugh. That was a question they would have asked him. 

As he exchanged his literal mask for one entirely emotional, Zemo leaned back on his stool and managed a smile. “How educated are you on Sokovian politics?” 

Sam shut his eyes again, letting his head lol back once more. “I went to public school, so I don’t think I even knew Sokovia existed until it didn’t,” 

“I know enough,” Bucky added. From his place leaning against the way, ever vigilant and ready to jump into an imagined battle, he turned to face Zemo and crossed his arms. “Hydra had fingers in the government there, more so than other places. There was a big power struggle in the ’90s when the king died, right? Because people wanted democracy, and they didn’t want the little shithead prince to take over,”

“Yes,” Zemo nodded, “My cousin Emil. I’m glad you’re familiar,”

 A spluttered laugh escaped Sam’s lips as he shot up. “I know I shouldn’t be surprised by this stuff anymore, but damn,” 

“He and I weren’t close,” Zemo waved his hand dismissively, and yet there was a strange sadness in his eyes. It wasn’t for his cousin, though. Not in the least. “But James was correct, there were riots in the streets when the king died. They were shut down quickly by the National Guard, though, who had more than a little help from Hydra’s favorite supersoldiers once they realized just how much power the citizens held. What street were you assigned to, James?” 

Bucky sucked in his cheeks, eyes falling to the floor, but before Sam could butt in and defend him he had muttered an answer. “I cleared the barricade at 18th Avenue, the second largest. Those kids fought valiantly,” 

Zemo hummed lowly. “And so they did,” 

“Okay, what does any of this have to do with your stupid purple mask?” Sam exclaimed.

He was sitting up fully now, face turned to where Zemo had stood from his stool and begun to round the bar. His mask still sat in a small ball on the marble. It seemed to be a member of the conversation all its own, silent and sure, drawing all three men together as it weaved a story from the past into the present with its very presence. 

“That mask served me well and hid my identity when I stood against the very men that were serving my family,” Zemo muttered, letting his fingers brush the fabric gently. The names of the lost sat heavy on his very soul even if they would never pass from his lips. 

Hans, Andrei, Ivan, Vladimir, Anton, Lazlo, Nicholas, little Sebastian… 

Y/N. 

“I was young then, too young for my own good,” he said softly, “naive and hopeful and convinced that the world was able to change for the better if I simply willed it to be… so when I discovered the connection between my family and Hydra I packed up my things, emptied my bank account, and moved into a tiny apartment with another like-minded friend, Hans Perlitch,” a soft laugh escaped him, genuine and youthful and all too honest, “We preached to the hungry masses of a world free from the thumb of the elite and all the while we would return home to a heated apartment and a stocked pantry. Still, we were well-liked and gathered a bit of a following. That was when everything changed, the early fall of 1997…” 

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

“You know, for someone who claims to be as smart as you say you are, you’re quite a fool,” 

The voice came from the back of the room, smoke still hanging thick in the air from the cigarettes shared by the masses of students that had packed the tiny repurposed stockroom of the bar while Helmut had given his speech for the week.

He didn’t give the interloper the dignity of his full attention as he gathered a few of his scattered notes from the table that served as his soapbox. Still, he was in a generally good mood. Almost double the usual students had shown up for the meeting and a few had even chimed in to ask questions, so he took a deep breath and resigned himself to the fact that rooting out one ignorant opposer now would mean less work in the long run. “I’ve never claimed to be smart, so I’m not quite sure what you’re referring to,” 

A scoff came from the back of the room, but the person made no effort to come closer. “You can change your last name and present yourself as a member of the public all you want, but someday someone is gonna recognize that pretty face of yours, and your whole revolution is going to come crumbling to the ground,” 

Now that was enough to make him pause.

“How did you-”

“How could I not?”

It was sardonic, biting and harsh in the worst of ways. Everything about the tone made Helmut’s blood boil beneath his skin. He was not one who enjoyed being threatened or outdone. Still, the play was out of his hands now, should this strange intruder choose to ruin him. 

Biting his tongue, he finally turned to face them. “You have my attention, now what do you want?”

Across the room, the stranger remained unphased. They were relatively unremarkable, a bottle of cheap beer held firmly in their grip as they toasted to nothing and drank down the remaining dregs. With a smile and a chuckle, they propped their feet up on the small, round table before them. Something about that sight lit a fire in Helmut’s chest. He didn’t know who they were, or why he was there, but he was certain that he despised them already. 

“I don’t want anything,” They replied, and with a certain grandness reserved for a gamin mocking the bourgeoisie, they flourished with their hands, letting their booted feet drop to the ground as they stood and bowed. “I’m just saying that if you’re trying to convince people that you’re not the missing baron while you’re pretending to be all impoverished and rallying us commoners, you might want to change more than your last name and your fashion sense,”

Helmut gritted his teeth. “So what? Did you come here just to rub my face in it, or are you going to help me make a change?” 

That elicited a small snort from the stranger, but they did take the opportunity to traipse up to meet him at his table, leaning on the edge as they gazed up at him with a strange look in their eyes that he couldn’t quite identify. Their face was soft upon closer examination, alive and bright with a merriment that only came from intoxication. It made Helmut sneer involuntarily. 

Licking their lips, they murmured, “Make a change? Is that what you think you’re doing?” and as they let a giggle escape their parted lips Helmut lost it. 

He gasped them firmly by the front of their baggy sweater and dragged them in close. “At least I’m trying! What are you doing about it? Extorting the only person who might be able to actually make a change in this shithole of a country? That’s so much more helpful!” 

Their faces were inches apart as Helmut spat his words like venom and yet the stranger never stopped smiling. It was almost dopey, the grin that made its way across their lips. Helmut couldn’t stand it. 

“You know, baron,” they purred, setting down their empty bottle on the table beside them, “I like you. I might just stick around here for a little while, see what else about your little plan I can pick apart,” 

Never in his life had Helmut been less thrilled for someone to join his cause. 

“Why are you here anyway,” he groaned, releasing their shirt, “don’t you have something better to do with your Friday night than bother me?” and, as an extra jab, he added, “besides drinking yourself to death, of course,” 

The jab didn’t land, though. 

Taking it all in stride, the stranger simply grinned as if they too knew how badly they stank of cheap alcohol and was thrilled that someone had noticed. “Anton invited me. He said I should get out more, make some friends. It’s just a coincidence that I happened to recognize you while writing down an itemized list of all the things you got wrong while you grandstanded,” There was a pride in their words, a giddy energy burbling just beneath the surface of their skin, and suddenly it all made sense. 

Anton was newer to their group, a poet and a free thinker, something hard to find in the slums of Novi Grad. Still, he lightened the impromptu meetings up with his smile and would often spend the hour scrawling away fervently in his notebook as he immortalized each and every word that was said “for posterity”. Helmut was sure that only someone as accepting as Anton would ever choose to spend their time with someone quite as insufferable as the person before him. Suddenly, and uncomfortably, he became aware that he didn’t even know their name. 

Swallowing down a nasty barb, Helmut sighed and offered up his hand, which the stranger took after a moment of pause. “And you are?” 

“Y/N,” They replied.

“Well, Y/N,” he spat their name from his mouth like a cherry pit, “I suppose I’ll have to get used to having a man like you-”

“Don’t call me that,” 

Helmut cocked his head to the side. “Pardon?”

“Don’t call me a man,” Y/N replied, “and before you ask I don’t want to be called a woman either. I’m just… I’m just Y/N, at least for now I am, it’s not like I’d give a rich brat like you my legal name while we’re mixed up in all this illegal, halfway-treasonous nonsense you insist on spouting. Maybe next week I’ll be something completely different and new. Until I tell you otherwise, though, I’m just Y/N, your highness,” 

“Do I dare dream that that means you might learn to respect my ideas?” Helmut sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face and choosing to ignore the sarcastic address in the hopes of letting such things fizzle and die without encouragement. Unfortunately, the goofy grin he got in return told him that was wishful thinking. 

Suddenly, the door opened and Helmut jumped away from his newest tentative ally (if you could call them that) to find Hans standing in the doorway. At his side was Andrei, the third in command of their little posse and final member of the leading triumvirate. They seemed shocked at his lateness and he was quick to try to gather himself up lest they see him as undone as he had found himself while facing the smallest taste of Y/N’s antagonistic nature. 

What had he even been doing when they interrupted him? It took him a moment to even gather himself together enough to remember. Scanning the room, his eyes fell on the papers 

Oh yes, he had been gathering up his notes…

He was quick to finish the task as Y/N sauntered away towards the door, preparing to push past the two men who stood beyond it. 

“You’re Anton’s friend, right?” Hans asked, back stiff. When Y/N nodded he did little more than give a noncommittal noise from the back of his throat. He had always been good with making things impersonal as he crunched the numbers and calculated probabilities. That was why Helmut liked him so much. 

Andrei, on the other hand, provided a needed warmth to their leadership in his outreach. 

He smiled warmly at Y/N and clapped a hand on their shoulder. “I hope we’ll be seeing more of you around,” 

Y/N was quick to offer one of their signature grins before winking back at Helmut in a way that made his stomach turn. “Oh, you’ll be seeing plenty of me from now on,” 

“We’re glad to have you,” Andrei replied as they passed. 

Before they fully left, though, they turned one last time to shoot Helmut a final smile. “Till next Friday, fearless leader,” 

Then, Y/N was gone, lost in the crowd of revelers beyond the small, smokey storeroom and, more importantly, beyond where Helmut’s eyes could follow. Somehow, despite everything, he missed having them there. He quickly chalked the feeling up to wanting to keep a close eye on people with the ability to thwart his best-laid plans and left it at that. Besides, he had no room in his heart for anything besides the betterment of Sokovia. 

Attachments meant the possibility of other priorities, and other priorities got people killed. He couldn’t have that happening on his watch. 

Thankfully, Hans snapped him out of his melancholy quickly. “Do you have everything sorted?” 

Helmut gave a short nod before tapping the pile of papers against the table and setting out towards the door, abandoning his thoughts and feelings about his interaction with Y/N at the table as he exited the room and gathered himself once more into the man his friends needed him to be. 

He could only hope that as long as he ignored Y/N’s jabs, they would soon grow tired and be gone within the month once they realized he was anything but afraid of their little games. 

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

Much to Helmut’s abject disappointment, Y/N did not, in fact, stop showing up. 

They did quite the opposite. 

Instead of leaving him well enough alone, they showed up to Helmut’s meetings every single Wednesday and Friday for months, always piss drunk and happy to jeer at him from the corner, shouting their unwanted opinions and throwing off every meeting with their nonsense.

It was as if they did it just to get on his nerves, and get on his nerves they did.

As the seasons changed, from spring, to winter, to fall, and, finally, to the very beginnings of summer, so did the types of jabs Y/N decided to throw. 

In the beginning it was all business, comments on the idiocy of his plans for a protest based on common police routes or mocking jokes about his unending optimism when it came to fighting the national guard on a large scale, but as things began to get more and more serious on the path towards a full-fledged revolt, they seemed to aim more and more of their vitriol towards Helmut personally.

Sometimes it was a comment on his face or voice. “Ease up pretty boy,” they’d jeer, “keep talking like that and a guardsman might just do more than knock out a few of your perfect teeth,” Other times, which Helmut found infinitely worse, they’d throw a jab at his ability to lead them to victory. “The only thing that waits for us at the end of this is a painful death, especially if you’re not joking about those fucking super soldiers they supposedly have on ice,” 

The worst part was that half the time, Y/N was right. 

Helmut hated to admit it but it was true. More than once he had to go back and edit his plans to take into account a valid point thrown in by Y/N that he had never even considered. Hell, if it had been anyone else picking him to nothing he would have been grateful, but it wasn’t a well-meaning contributor trying to make the world a better place, it was a drunk who seemed to have one solitary life goal: making his life as miserable as possible. Perhaps that’s why they had devolved to frantic angry fucks behind crates of wine and massive cans of chocolate spread after the worst of their arguments…

Not that Helmut cared for them. 

No, he didn’t do attachments. Neither did Y/N. They hated each other, after all. 

It was just a way to release their tensions at the end of stressful meetings and nothing more. They were dealing with matters of life and death after all. It was only normal to seek comfort in the warmth of a companion, if he could even call Y/N a companion.

Whether he liked it or not, though, they were they to stay, even if they rarely made themself useful to the cause.

By early June, the drunkard had become close friends with all of the remaining students that still gathered at Helmut’s location for meetings instead of ending up at the offshoots that began to form once the group got too big to pile into the storeroom. Helmut loathed thinking about it, but Y/N was probably invited to more birthdays and Saturday night get-togethers than he ever was. There was something about their smile that drew people in. It made them feel wanted, welcome. Helmut hated that he never got those smiles from Y/N, only ever the mocking, blithe kind that they handed out freely to friends and enemies alike. 

He didn’t have time to think about that, though. Not with so much fast approaching as the first pears began to hang from branches down in the royal orchards, soft and ripe and ready to be harvested. Their growth marked King Hugo’s daily weakening. His death could come any day, and when it did, Helmut knew he would need to strike quickly if he truly hoped to overturn the system before the coronation of his cousin. That meant every meeting, now more frequently held throughout the week, was filled to the brim with preparations and planning. 

Well, preparations and planning and a healthy dose of Y/N and Helmut yelling at each other about nonsense across the room until Anton or Laszlo stepped in to pull Y/N down into their chair once more so the meeting could resume and they could all go home before things got too late and they were questioned in the street on why they were possibly out and about at such an hour.

Things were no different on that Friday meeting on June 4th. 

“Is there anyone here who isn’t already passing out pamphlets in the dorms at NVU tonight?” Helmut asked the room, scanning for a hand that didn’t belong to his least favorite member of the group. Unfortunately, none came up. “Come one now, at least one of you has to be free,”

Y/N groaned. “It’s like you don’t even see my hand waving up here, oh great one,” There they went again with the ridiculous terms of address that made Helmut’s blood sizzle in his veins. He remained composed, though. At least, as composed as he could be given the situation.

“I’m ignoring you because I remember the last time I asked your drunk ass to pass out pamphlets. What round of dominos were you on by the time I showed up to check on you, five or six?” 

The scalding remark was enough to get Y/N to sheepishly lower their hand, eyes downcast. It was getting easier and easier for Helmut to manage to shut them up the more frantic meetings got, and he couldn’t say he was displeased by that fact no matter why it was the way that it was. A quiet Y/N meant less chance for mistakes which meant fewer future casualties. Fewer casualties were good, it was what he strived for. 

Thankfully for Helmut, a new hand came up. 

It belonged to Vladimir, the oldest of the group by a year rounding out at an even 26 years old. He was dependable, definitely the kind who could be trusted to run an errand as important as the one Helmut needed to have done. The thought that Vladimir would be the one to pick up the shipment of smuggled guns was a relief. He made as much evident while explaining their next moves. 

Throughout the remainder of the meeting, though, Helmut couldn’t help but feel watched. It didn’t last long, half an hour at most. Still, there was the creeping itch on the back of his neck that told him there were eyes on him that he wasn’t aware of. Only when the group was dismissed and the feeling didn’t go away did he realize exactly who was staring at him so intently.

“I hope you know I really did intend to hand out those pamphlets,” Y/N said once they were the last one remaining, the rest of the group having trickled out to get food and drinks before heading home for the night. It wasn’t unusual for Helmut and Y/N to be the last two remaining at the end of a meeting. That didn’t mean he was happy about it though. 

So, instead of offering up an acknowledgment, he busied himself with plotting out a few potential spots to barricade the roads and hunker down when things got messy in highlighter on the large, laminated map of Novi Grad that had found its home on the big front table.

Y/N didn’t let up, though. They never did. “I know you don’t believe me, why would you, but I did. I just wanted to loosen them up before I started talking about overthrowing the damn government, which is a terrible plan, by the way. Have I told you that lately?”

“Only every time you see me,” Helmut sighed. 

Somehow, that made Y/N smile, soft and sarcastic and all too honest. Helmut didn’t know how they managed it. Secretly, he envied their neverending veracity. He’d never say that though. No, not while they crossed the floor and offered up a large bottle of whiskey. 

“A drink, dear leader?” 

“Absolutely not” He griped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many times do I need to remind you I don’t drink?” 

“Too many,” 

“For once, I agree with you,” 

A laugh passed through Y/N’s plush lips and, regrettably, Helmut couldn’t help but look up at them and relish in the sight. Their hair was a bit longer than they usually grew it out, a particularly unruly piece tucked behind their ear. Helmut hated that he noticed little details like that, despised the way he had come to know the soft dip of their cupid’s bow and the warmth of their palm. It was still Y/N, after all, for better or worse. He couldn’t help but allow himself those small recognitions though. It made him feel human, or something close to it. 

Still, all good things must come to an end, and they did when Y/N decided to speak again. “You know, the longer I show up for these stupid meetings, the more I think you’re actually gonna try to go up against those bastards,” 

Helmut should have known the barb was coming, but perhaps his better nature, if it truly existed, prevented that. Nevertheless, he sighed into his hands as he dropped his highlighter. “If I didn’t intend to actually try to change things, why would I have spent the last year of my life living in a shitty apartment and putting up with you?”

“You’d be surprised the things people do and never finish. Not everyone is as driven as you are,” Y/N huffed. They were quick to seat themself on the table once Helmut wasn’t actively working over it, smearing the highlighter away on their corduroy pants. “Nobody would blame you if you did tap out, you know. There are plenty of ways to make a change that don’t involve trying to take down the entire local Sokovian military force until they decide to give you what you want,”

“The changes we could make without a revolt wouldn’t really be changes, they’d just be the illusion of changes. You know that as well as I do,” Helmut replied with a groan. 

Two of the fingers from Y/N’s free hand, the one that wasn’t gripping their bottle like a lifeline, pointed towards the closed door behind them. “Is living under our current system and knowing they have fingers in a few less-than-savory organizations really worse than leading all of your friends to their deaths?” 

That struck a nerve in Helmut’s chest.

“And who says that has to be true?” 

“Come on, oh benevolent and giving baron,” Y/N’s voice was light yet pointed, like a million minuscule particles of glass flying through the air, “Do you really think we’re all gonna make it out of a fight with the big guys? And even if all of us do, can you say the same for the poor kids fighting where we aren’t?”

“I never said there would be no casualties-”

“What about Sebastian? The kid is barely 12 and I know you’re going to say that if he tries to show up, you’re gonna send him home, but I think you underestimate how many people will want even someone as young as him dead if they catch him in the street. Are you really going to let him risk his life for this? A half-assed plan for you to get revenge on your asshole relatives for making your childhood shitty?” 

“You know that’s not what this is about,” 

“Do I?” Y/N asked, and for just a second, no, a millisecond, Helmut wasn’t sure anymore. It was only a brief moment though, nothing more. The fact that they could make him doubt himself do deeply though… it was a problem. Calling it that was an understatement, but there was no other way to put it that truly worked. 

Helmut growled lowly and nodded, pushing the doubt from his mind. He was right. He had to be right. What would he be if he was wrong? A spoiled rich boy who was leading his friends to their dooms for nothing? 

No.

He had to be right, so he was. It was as simple as that.

“Is there anything else you need to critique, or can you leave me to work now?” Helmut asked. His patience had long since worn thin. That didn’t matter much to Y/N, though. They liked to wear him down thin, see just how far they could push without breaking his resolve. It was a game they were both intimately acquainted with. 

They played their hand expertly. “In fact,” Y/N smiled while they spoke, another mocking little grin that made Helmut’s stomach turn in the best and worst of ways, “there is one last thing I needed to ask about,” 

“I shudder to think what it might be,”

“How are you going to hide your face?” 

The question caught Helmut off-guard as he leaned back on his heels, letting his forearms brace against the edge of the table, his face scrunching up in thought. “What?” 

Y/N gestured absently towards his face before bringing their bottle to their lips. “I’m betting that your family will expect you to be out there whenever we actually stage our attack. If I’m right, that means the soldiers will be looking for you as their top priority, and if they find you, they’ll kill everybody around you just to get a chance to drag you back to mommy and daddy. Even if they don’t kill us on sight we’ll be charged for harboring you without turning you in to the proper authorities. So, how are you going to hide your face?” 

Once again, Helmut found himself thinking that, despite their drunken stupor, Y/N might just be right, and he hated it. He hated that he hadn’t thought of it first, hated that it was a valid point, hated that he had no satisfying way to answer the question they had posed. He hated it all. 

“I’ll just throw on a bandana,” He managed to grumble, and that was that. 

Or, that should have been that, but Y/N scoffed at the idea, setting down their bottle and leaning in close to Helmut’s face. After a moment of contemplation, they brought their hand up to his face and let their thumb come to rest on one of his largest beauty marks, the mole that rested high on the left side of his nose. “I’m afraid that a bandana isn’t going to cover up your absolutely blinding radiance, fearless leader,” There was a softness to their voice, a gentility Helmut was unused to. It made his chest hurt. He hated that too. 

“Are you going to offer a solution or are you just going to sit there telling me I’m stupid,” His words were a low groan. 

Much to his surprise, though, Y/N reached into their back pocket only to pass him a crumpled purple ball. It was obviously fabric, though the outside seemed to be coated in some sort of weatherproofing, and upon closer inspection, once unraveled, two distinct eyeholes became visible. 

“Is this-”

“A mask?” Y/N finished his sentence for him, “Yeah. I figured you wouldn’t think about it, so I whipped something up with some old polyester-based yarn and then I coated it so it wouldn’t be a problem if it got wet. It should still be breathable, though,” 

For the first time since he’d known them, Helmut looked up at Y/N and thought that they were incredibly valuable. He still hated them, of course he did. Y/N was Y/N and he was himself and they hated each other because they were, at their basest, entirely incompatible. 

At his silence, Y/N looked away, almost nervous. “I hope it’s alright,” 

“It’s more than alright,” Helmut said as kindly as he could possibly manage, “I hate to say this, but owe you one,” 

“Could I collect on that debt now?” Minutely, Y/N leaned closer, eyes falling to Helmut’s lips. 

He swallowed thickly. “You’re drunk, Y/N,” 

“I know I am. Isn’t that wonderful?” 

“Why would that be wonderful?” 

“Because that means I won’t remember this,” And, with that, they closed the gap between the two of them and captured Helmut’s lips in his own. 

Kissing Y/N wasn’t a new thing. They had kissed plenty of times during their frenzied hookups; soft kisses and hard kisses and long kisses and short kisses. Still, Helmut would never get used to the thrill of it. That was yet another thing he hated about Y/N. He could never quite get used to them. Every single interaction always felt as fresh and raw as their first. 

With a fervor only he could muster, Helmut kissed back and pushed at Y/N’s hips, pressing them harder into the table below, and just as quickly as he had gained a physical mask, he had lost his emotional one. 

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

In the end, that was the last time Helmut had slept with Y/N.

They had fallen together, two sweaty half-dressed bodies laid out over the laminated map of Novi Grad, and then Y/N had gathered themself up and left with little more than one last kiss pressed to Helmut’s temple. By the time he himself had gotten home to Hans, the news of King Hugo’s death was almost an hour old.

After a few phone calls to lay the final plans and keep every sect of their band of revolutionaries on the same schedules, things rolled into motion like a finely tuned machine. 

On the morning of June 5th, the barricades rose and Helmut wore his mask proudly as his people fought for freedom in the streets he had walked since childhood. Y/N was beside him. 

By the early hours of June 6th, they were the only barricade that remained. 

Helmut should have known that once things got too challenging that the super soldiers would be released, he should have anticipated that they’d be waiting for the backlash once king Hugo passed, and yet he hadn’t. He had blindly walked into the disaster with his eyes wide open. There was no one to blame but himself. 

Little Sebastian, just one month shy of 13 years old, was dead, shot at long distance when he had attempted to grab a fallen box of bullets that had toppled over the peak of the jumble of hoarded furniture and scrap metal. Anton was dead too, taken at gunpoint while he stood guard at a side street and executed with his eyes bound and a sonnet on his lips. Even Ivan, stoic and strong Ivan who bound his knuckles in boxer’s tape and sparred with Helmut when he needed to clear his head, had been caught in the initial fire and bled out over the course of the day, dying with a smile on his face as he leaned on a discarded chair.

I never said there’d be no casualties.

His own words rang in his ears, taunted him with every bullet he shot and every breath he dragged into his aching lungs. How had he ever been so naive to believe that even one life could be expendable?  

The real lowest point came at almost midnight when Helmut picked up a call from a student on another barricade only to met with screaming. “Winter is coming!” They had wailed, “Winter is coming!” and then they had died, right there over speakerphone. Helmut had the good sense to hang up once it got to the worst of it, the strangled gurgled growing to be too much for the group. 

As things truly settled, in those hours so early that the world still considered them night, Helmut still stood vigilant. That’s when Y/N finally approached. 

They wore no smile, not like usual. Instead, their face was stoic as they came to stand beside Helmut and waited silently for a moment. He took the chance to beat them to the punch. 

“You don’t have to tell me you were right. I know you were,” I hate you for it.

Y/N offered a gentle, humorless laugh. “I wouldn’t rub it in at a time like this, but yeah, I was,” I know you do. I hate myself for it too. 

Slowly, Helmut brought a hand to his face, scrubbing the exhaustion away from his eyes. How had it all come to this? 

“How much time do you think we have,” Y/N was speaking before he had a chance to say anything more, saving him from having to elaborate on his admission. He was grateful. Grateful to not be alone, grateful to be spared more shame, grateful to see Y/N’s gentle smile one more time. He’d never show it though. No, he was to be the fearless leader till the end. 

So, he sucked in a deep breath and stared out into the starry sky. “A few hours at most. I’m surprised they haven’t made another advance after the last big push in the evening when we lost…” he swallowed thickly, “when we lost Anton,” 

Licking their lips and pushing back their hair, Y/N sighed. “For what it’s worth, for a minute there I really believed you could do it,” 

It was a bigger compliment than it seemed and they both knew it, but neither acknowledged it. Instead, Helmut gestured absently towards the half-full bottle of wine in Y/N’s hand. “You mind if I have a drink of that?” 

A grin spread across their lips, but it was as far from mocking as was possible as they passed the bottle over. 

“I never thought I’d see the day,”

Lifting the bottom of his mask to take a swig, Helmut groaned at the deep, bitter burn of it. “Don’t get used to it,” He replaced the fabric quickly before passing the bottle back. 

“I’ll try not to,” 

“Happy 20th, by the way,” Y/N added, “this is a hell of a way to celebrate, but it’s very you,” 

Helmut froze as the realization sunk in that it was, in fact, the 6th of June, even if it had only been that way for a couple hours. 

There had been a party planned. It was just an intimate thing, cake and a few card games in the afternoon with his closest friends, but that was long behind them now, forgotten in favor of the larger cause. To Y/N, though, there was never a larger cause than Helmut himself. He was realizing that slowly. In a bitter moment of realization, he laughed. 

“What?” 

“You weren’t invited,” 

They quirked up an eyebrow. “Huh?” 

“To the birthday party. I didn’t invite you,” 

“Well, I’m here now, and this is a pretty good party if I do say so myself. You and me and the revolution all jam-packed together in the middle of a street. Wouldn’t it be cool if the new democracy was born on the same day you were?” 

He smiled softly. “It was meant to be,” 

“I got you something, you know, even though I knew I wasn’t invited to the party,” Y/N added breathlessly. “It was stupid, just some dumb sweater with a whole bunch of random ass quotes from Machiavelli all over the back, but Anton and I saw it when we visited the better side of town to hang up those fliers for the march a few weeks ago and we knew you had to have it. It’s sitting all wrapped up on my front table,” 

“It’s a shame I won’t get to open it today,”

They nodded distantly. “Yeah, a real shame…”  

Then, they were quiet again, staring up at the stars mere feet away from each other and yet miles apart, farther than they’d ever been. 

Y/N cut through the soundless night first, but not before several silent minutes had passed, filled with only the distant chatter of their surviving friends and the gentle whistling of the breeze over the rooftops above. “When everything goes to shit… with the universe, I mean, not now. Everything’s already gone to shit now. But that notwithstanding, when the world goes kaput and the sun explodes, we’re all gonna be starstuff together, right? You and I and Sebastian and Andrei and Anton and… all of us. We’re gonna be nothing but matter and dust out there in space,” 

“Is there a point to this or are you just having an existential crisis?” Helmut muttered, but there was no bite to it. 

They just chuckled as their eyes scanned the sky. 

“I was just thinking, if all of us are gonna be nothing more than matter and dust and star stuff, it only makes sense that someday, even if it’s a billion years from now, a little part of each of us will be together again as part of some supernova in the sky to be seen by somebody else, and, when that day comes, I think I’m gonna know, and everything is gonna be alright,” 

He hummed thoughtfully, running a hand absently over the thick purple knit of his mask, relishing in the gummy softness of the coating on his bare fingertips in the cooling air. “That makes no sense,” 

“Do you think I don’t know that?” 

“Still, it’s a pretty thought. Anton would have liked it,” 

“Yeah, he would have…”  

Helmut let his eyes fall from the sky to his companion. They looked so fragile, so broken, that he could barely stand himself, because, if he hadn’t made the stupid choices to lead them here, they never would have felt that way. They’d be curled up in bed somewhere, asleep and safe, far from the cold darkness of the night at his side. It made him sick. 

How could he possibly put that to words? How could he apologize for denying every nudge, every chance to turn around? He couldn’t, and it made him as bitter as the wine that Y/N sipped from absently before turning to face him once again. 

“Hey, Helmut,” they whispered, and his breath caught in his throat because how dare his voice sound so sweet on their lips? How dare they keep that joy, the joy of hearing his name whispered with reverence on the early morning breeze, real and caring and perfect, away from him for so long? “Do you think I could take a chair from the barricade?” 

Just as soon as it had come, the joy was gone. “Why would you need a chair?” 

Y/N shrugged. “I want to go sleep,” 

“Why can’t you sleep out here?”

“I don’t want to be woken up,”

“We wouldn’t wake you until the fighting was starting back up again-” 

“Oh, my darling fearless leader,” their voice was empty, tinny and cold, “I don’t ever want to be woken up,” 

Their words pierced Helmut straight through the heart he didn’t know he had. It made him feel so much, so many emotions he had simply not allowed himself out of a misplaced sense of self-preservation. “But we’ll need every able body ready to fight when they send in the super soldiers if we even want a chance at making it out of this,” 

The smile that crossed Y/N’s lips didn’t come from a place of joy, nor did it mock Helmut for his blind and dying faith. It was simply there because they did not know how to do anything else. “There’s no making it out of this. Not for me, at least. For you, though… you still have a chance,” 

Denial and anger went hand in hand as Helmut sucked his teeth, grinding his molars and letting his hand ghost over his pistol hanging at his hip. 

“So you’d really rather die like a coward than take a stand against the evils in the world?” he spat, harsh and cold as the air around them. “Pathetic,” 

“Don’t do this now, Helmut, not after we were finally getting somewhere. I don’t want to die with things like that,” 

“I’m not the one who’s giving up,” he snapped.

He just needed… something. A reaction. A reason to keep fighting when the war was already lost. Anything. Why couldn’t Y/N light the same fire in him that they’d kindled for months? The fire that had driven him to spend sleepless nights poring over maps and plans and speeches and guns. If he just pushed a little harder, just hit the right button, they’d light it again, he just knew it. 

“Please,” the word fell fragile from Y/N’s lips. Not a beg, just a soft plea. 

It fell on deaf ears. 

“You know what? You can take your chair!” Helmut was shouting then, loud enough that the remaining students on the barricade could hear every word. “Take your chair and leave us to fight while you die in your sleep. If we make it through the day I’ll put the bullet between your eyes myself. Now get out of here! I don’t want to see you again,” There was a cruelty to it, an edge that he thought might just push them off the edge. Still, it wasn’t cruel without reason. Helmut thought that maybe, if he was lucky enough, Y/N would simply leave. 

They had no stakes in the results of the revolt, no serious lasting ties that would get them hunted down in the weeks to come if things came to a gruesome end. If he bid them to leave, to disappear from his sight, there was a chance, however small, that they would disappear into the shadows with a chance to live. 

Against all odds, though, Y/N smiled one of those empty smiles again and drank down the very last of their wine.

“As your baronship commands,” they whispered, before departing to gather up a chair and disappearing into the restaurant where they had met so many times before. 

Then, they were gone, and Helmut was free to sink to the ground as his heart broke and mended and broke again. 

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

As expected, the super soldiers arrived only a couple of hours past Y/N’s departure.

Their arrival was silent, only marked by the slow thud of retreating national guardsmen in the distance. They weren’t needed there anymore, and the less they saw the better. 

Helmut watched his friends fall one by one in the panic, the barricade falling to ruin as the soldiers- if they could even be considered that, soldier seemed a far too human term for the monstrous creatures before him- pulled it apart with their bare hands. From there it was just a game of who was caught first in the insanity that ensued. 

Nicholas; caught a bullet through the neck. 

Vladimir; thrown against a solid stone wall at a speed near impossible.

Lazlo; impaled on a bit of broken wood as the wood exploded. 

Andrei; shot 3 times point-blank in the chest as he held the door closed to buy Hans and Helmut a little more time with a love confession for his closest companion falling from his mouth. 

Hans…

Helmut didn’t know how Hans died. 

He had never asked. All he knew that the shots had come as he wailed Andrei’s name, and then there was a deathly silence in the golden light of the morning sun as Helmut stood alone at the back of the storeroom, taking in the 4 walls that had held the best year of his life. 

What remained now? 

A failed dream? A pile of bodies? A single survivor waiting for his death?

Helmut didn’t know. He couldn’t fathom it. 

The two soldiers sent to finish the job were nameless and nondescript as they slipped through the door, armed with long, silent rifles and hidden by masks not too dissimilar from Helmut’s own. They did not speak, not a word. Instead, they simply raised their guns and took aim at Helmut as he closed his eyes and thought of-

“Wait!”

The word rang out heavy and made the two executioners snap to the side.

“I’m with him! I’m with the revolution! Down with King Emil! Down with the monarchy!”  

There, hidden among the crates and shelves of canned goods and glass bottles, was Y/N. 

They looked objectively awful, eyes rimmed red and hair mussed up and coated with oil. Still, it was the most beautiful sight Helmut had ever seen. 

It was only right that they go together. 

Slowly, Y/N made their way across the room to take their place at Helmut’s side. “I know you said you never wanted to see me again, but I assume you’ll make an exception for the circumstances,”

“I never meant it,” he whispered back, and Y/N smiled, “You have to know, I never meant it,” 

“Even if you did, I never would have listened-”

Suddenly, one of the soldiers spoke, taking aim straight for Helmut down the barrel of their gun. 

“Quiet,” 

Y/N only paused for a moment before pressing their hand into his. “Kiss me, Helmut?”

Who was he to deny them? 

Pulling off his mask, he pressed his lips to theirs and clasped their hand like it was the last thing he would ever do. When he pulled away, they were smiling one of their old, mocking, joyous smiles. 

“Oh, fearless leader… I win,” 

The words were a whisper of air against his lips. Before he could fathom the true meaning of them the pair was peppered in a spray of gunfire as Helmut closed his eyes to the world for what should have been the final time. 

When he opened them, Y/N was struck dead at his feet. 

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

It was their final winning move, he later realized, the checkmate to a game of chess he never believed would end. 

In the end, Y/N had been as correct as they always were.

All the same, he hated them for it. 

Some nights, in the darkness of his room back at the summer estate where his father has imprisoned him until further notice, he wondered if Y/N had kissed him because they wanted to or if they had done it to get him to remove his mask long enough that the soldiers would recognize him and spare him. It wouldn’t surprise him. Y/N did have a tendency to be right about things like that. 

Ghosts haunted him often.

Not full specters, he would wish for something so merciful. Instead, he saw flashes in the periphery of his vision. Outside his window, he’d hear a child’s laugher and be so sure it was Sebastian until he looked out to find that it was simply a group of the staff’s children playing ball. Or, when the assigned guardsman brought him his dinner, he would glance down the hall and be so sure that a man at the other end was Lazlo, preparing to face a board of proctors as he delivered a thesis he would never write. It never was, though. It never would be. 

Worst of all, when he laid awake in his bed as the clock struck twelve, he would feel them beside him. 

They had never slept together in the literal sense. Whatever they had shared (love, Helmut would come to realize after many, many years with Heike, painfully hollow without the same kind of flame. He had loved them and simply never known how to show it) was purely physical and contained within that bloody, bloody storeroom that he was sure would be torn down someday soon as they glossed over the casualties and stamped out the evidence. Still, he could feel Y/N beside him in the darkness despite the fact that they had never been there. 

Their head on his chest, their body pressed flush to his side, their hot breath fanning over the fabric of his nightshirt, creating a patch of damp warmth in its wake…

It was maddening, an eternal punishment he was doomed to endure for his stupidity. Nevertheless, if he let his brain wander to a better place, a different lifetime, it was almost comforting to feel their ghost wrapped tightly to his side. 

When he woke, though, the loss of the dream was more maddening than living through it. 

Almost a month after the failed revolution, in the hot and heady days of early July when the wasps buzzed loud at the window and the skies were filled with thunderclouds most of the time, his father finally came to speak to him.  

“I trust you spent your birthday how you wished to,” Heinrich said plainly. There was no question to it, just an empty sentiment. 

Mockery wasn’t nearly as pleasant when delivered by his father and not his lover, Helmut thought distantly. 

“On the contrary, I spent my birthday watching everyone I cared about die,” he snapped back. 

Heinrich didn’t offer any sort of commiseration. He simply shrugged and continued on with what he was there to say, not that his son minded much. The less time he spent there the more time Helmut would have to himself, which was preferable to listening to his father’s droning. 

“You’re lucky to be alive. The family is on thin ice thanks to that stunt you pulled, but with time we’re all sure that you’ll become an asset if you simply learn to use that fire for something more… productive,” 

Who the ‘we’ was went unspoken. It didn’t need to be.

Helmut sighed and looked out the window at the rain falling on the garden. Nicholas would have loved the gardens at this home. He would have pressed every flower at least once in the little book he kept beside him filled with the pieces of the world that he collected as he passed through it. Where would he be kept and collected now that he was dead? 

“I’ve called in a favor and enrolled you for military service. You’ll be tested to find your strengths, sent where you’re best suited, and trained from the ground up. Once we know you can be trusted, you might even lead your own squadron and make some friends more of your caliber,” 

It took all Helmut’s strength to clench his teeth and hold back the rage he felt in his chest. “When do I leave?”

“As soon as you’re married,” 

Married. 

The word struck a bolt through the rage and dissolved it, giving way to pure shock. “What the hell do you mean?” 

Crossing his arms, Heinrich took to pacing a 2-foot line back and forth in front of the door. “We’ve found a suitable match from a good standing Sokovian family, and they’re willing to look past your little misstep as long as their daughter becomes a baroness and is adequately involved in society. She’ll be here in three days time and you’ll have a week to get acquainted before the wedding,” 

“I never said I was going to get married,” Helmut growled, “You can’t make me get married,” 

His father stared down at him from above like he was a little boy again. “I can make you do whatever I want. Don’t think I didn’t hear about what happened with that freak they shot down at your side! No son of mine is ending up with someone like-”

In an instant, Helmut had rushed across the room and punched his father square in the jaw. As blood poured down the man’s face, a hiss escaped his son’s lips. 

“Never talk about Y/N like that again,”

“So it had a name!”

That earned him another punch, but Heinrich escaped Helmut’s grip quickly, cupping a hand beneath his nose to catch the redness that poured from his face. As he retreated out the door, he turned to deliver his final verdict. “You have three days to get your act together, and maybe, just maybe, if you don’t fuck this up, I’ll let you know where they dumped all your little friends to rot,” And with that, he shut the door behind him and left Helmut to pick up the pieces of his soul.

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

The tale Zemo wove was a sad one (sans most of the details about Y/N. That was a story whose finer details he would take to his grave) and as he came to a close, the purple fabric between his fingers was a tether to reality. The coating was a bit old, thinner in places than it should have been, but it had remained steady and strong for over 20 years and he didn’t know the first place to start repairing it. 

Y/N would have known, they’d been the one to do it in the first place after all, but they were long gone, not even a ghost anymore. Just a name and a face forgotten to time as all the other impoverished students were, buried in an unmarked grave in a place he never learned. It was all that remained of them. The only thing that proved they were ever there at all. 

“You know the rest of the story,” he added firmly. “I married Heike, climbed the ranks of the military, had my son… and they were simply lost, an unwritten page in the history of a country that no longer exists,” 

Suddenly, though, a deep voice cut in through the heavy air between them. 

“Ciczheni,”

“Pardon?” Zemo asked softly, pouring himself a final tumbler of whiskey and stuffing the mask back in his pocket. 

“We buried them in Ciczheni,” 

He nearly dropped the bottle in his hand. 

Bucky was quick to continue, voice low and eyes clouded with memory in a way that only the two of them would ever truly understand. “It’s a tiny town along the border to the Czech Republic. There’s a big open field there, or at least there was, marked with a flat grave marking it as a burial site. I don’t remember the name on it, some random pseudonym, but they’re all there, all 57 dead and buried in the ground under that rock,” 

Helmut gave a stiff nod. “I see,” Then, in one long gulp, he downed the whole two fingers of whiskey straight and relished in the way it burned down his throat. When the glass was empty and set down safely on the counter again he was quick to school his expression as he turned away. “I’m afraid all that excitement has exhausted me for the day. Goodnight, gentlemen,”

He was gone down the hallway into his bedroom before the pair had a chance to say another word. 

Ciczheni. 

As he undressed, he smiled softly, letting a few errant tears drip down his cheeks. 

They had been born and raised in that tiny farming town. Sometimes, when he had let himself listen in on their conversations with some of the other members of their small, tight group, they would talk about how much they wanted to return someday, once they’d made enough money to live on for a while if they supported themself by growing a small garden and maybe keeping some chickens. The thought, even then, had always made him smile. Just Y/N and a cottage and a chicken or two. 

Sometimes, if he was especially indulgent, he would imagine himself there with them. Sharing a home. 

Making a family. 

His biological family, the one he had created with marriage and his own flesh and blood, was something different entirely. He had loved them. God, how he’d loved them. Still, it was never the same. He was never at peace. He was never home. There would always be a bitterness there, as bitter as the dark summer wine he’d drunk the night he’d turned 20, a resentment that came with the obligation of creating a place in his heart for them when there never should have been. 

For Y/N, though... 

He sighed, wrapping himself in his robe and slipping on a pair of fleece pajama pants before crawling between the sheets and laying flat on his back, eyes to the ceiling. 

Things wouldn’t have been happy all the time. Hell, they probably wouldn’t have been happy even most of the time. Still, they would have been where they belonged, seated firmly at his side for the rest of their long, wonderful lives. 

Ciczheni, he repeated in his mind, then the memorial for Novi Grad. It was a minor detour, adding barely 2 hours more to the whole trip when he had plenty more to spare. 

Ciczheni, then Novi Grad, and then, finally, peace. 

Beside him, he could feel the phantom limbs wrap around his body, resting their weight firmly on his chest where the guilt and shame and terror built by the day, and for the first time in almost a decade they were not Heike’s. Perhaps, if all went according to plan, they wouldn’t be phantom much longer. 

Or, if not, he would wait. He would wait a billion years to disintegrate into stardust and spread across the cosmos in search of them. 

Either way, when they were together again, he’d know. 

They both would. 

--------

a/n: I’m not crying, you’re crying. 

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater​ , @elaineygrace​ , @multiyfandomgirl40 ,  @lovelymischief , @rami-malek-trash , @avgravy​ , @wh0re-4-techno​ , @forcebros​ , @sugarsweetkiss​ , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff​ , @killsandthrills​ , @novasstudy​ , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp​ , @inmate-marmalade​ , @alanathedeer​ , @your-pixels-are-showing​ , @shit-post-things​ , @bbarton​ , @sux-ubus​ , @halefirewarrior​ , @janelongxox​ , @rax-writes​ , @wondermia69​ , @booklover2929​ , @lol-im-done​ , @rorodendra​ , @spookycereal-s​ , @viviace​ , @wxrmh0le​ , @whatawildone​ , @mush-room-princess​ , @aliyahsfantasticlife​ ,  @gredvb​ , @chipster-21​ , @whatawildone​ , @cloud-of-roses​ , @bry-97​ , @mossybank​ , @simsiddy​ , @xxspqcebunsxx​ , @be-cautious-around-bri​ , @metaphorical-love-for-a-car​ , @frothonthedaydreams​

[novelist-becca]

Won’t you let me in?

Fandom: The Owl House

Relationships: Eda & Luz

Summary: After the events of Separate Tides, Eda and Luz have a talk. Title is from the song “Strange Sight” by KT Tunstall.

AO3

What a day this is turning out to be, Eda thought as the so-called “Golden Guard” approached her and Luz. 

The witch had originally planned to take the money back to the house after checking in on the Selkidomus. 

But then she got caught, and it turned out Luz was on the ship instead of safe at home. (She had expected Luz to follow the cart home after they started driving back to the house) The kid had apparently wanted in on the bounty hunt, once again not knowing what she was getting into. Forget the money that was forgotten in the boiling sea, Luz was more important! Eda had of course questioned her.

“Now why were YOU on that ship to begin with? You could've gotten killed!” 

And then the Golden Chump showed up, and here they are. 

“Hello, criminals!” He said. “What's about to happen should be relatively painless. If you just do what I say.” 

“And why would we do that?” Luz retorted.

“Because none of you can use real magic.” He said, pointing a finger at the both of them. 

Eda narrowed her eyes and pointed back. “You don't know that.” Sure, glyph magic was different, but she won't stand the talk of it not being “real”. They haven't seen Luz in action.

The Golden Guard shrugged. “Maybe not. But I do know you're standing on a plant that eats flesh.” 

On cue, Eda and Luz looked down to see that they were indeed, standing on a flesh eating plant. And just in time, both of them could already feel the thing burning through their shoes. They yelped and lept to the side as the guard just watched. 

Ugh, stupid Golden Guard…, Eda thought. 

“Ahahaha! Okay.” He chortled. “The human will remain a sailor to repay all the money she lost.”

Eda tensed up at that idea. As if she'd allow Luz to become a pawn for the stupid emperor, just for some stupid money! 

Luz needs to be safe at home…

“While the Owl Lady will be arrested, again! For attacking one of the emperor's ships.” 

Luz looked at Eda, surprised. “Emperor’s ship?” She repeated. 

“They're the only ones worth robbing.” Eda replied. At least the kid didn't know. She thought. She supposed Luz wouldn't have gone if she knew this was a setup from Belos. She turned back to the guard.

“Why are you guys hunting the Selkidomus? It's a peaceful creature and you're provoking it!” Eda demanded. 

“The emperor ordered me to slay one. I'm just following orders.” The guard said nonchalantly. 

Losing her cool, Eda glared at him. “Well I'm just gonna smack you around a bit!” She shouted, snapping her arm off. Unfortunately, the Golden Guard was too quick for her, dodging her to the point where she tripped. 

“Leave Eda alone!” Eda heard Luz shout. Then the kid was tossed aside next to her. 

Apparently, the dingus wasn't finished with them quite yet, because he then threatened to dip them into the Boiling Sea, ouch, but then he changed his mind. 

“I don't have to be that mean.” He said snarkily. 

Titan I hate this guy already…

“No one will have to be a sailor or get arrested. If one of you follows those Selkidomus tracks and slays the beast.” He ordered. “Here! I'll help!” Then the guard materialized a sword into the air, dropping it in front of them. 

What is it with the coven and slaying innocent creatures?!

Luz looked at the sword, and back up to the guard, pleading with her eyes. 

The guard rubbed his mask. “Ugh, you're making this difficult. Go, or I drown the bird.” He said, revealing King behind the cage he had. Thankfully, the demon appeared unharmed. 

Eda looked at Luz, seeing her conflicted face. If she had Owlbert with her right now, she would've grabbed her kid and tried to make a break for it, as if the ordeal never happened. 

But of course it wasn't that simple. 

Luz sighed. “Fine.” And to Eda’s alarm, she picked up the sword. “I'll do it.” She said in a low voice. 

Eda reached out an arm as Luz headed towards the cave. 

“Luz, wait!” She pleaded. There had to be a way out of this other than killing! “Luz!” 

~ 

On the way to the area where the Selkidomus was, Eda was trying to disuade Luz from doing what she was about to do. 

“Luz, don't hurt the Selkidomus. We can find another way out of this.” She said. 

But Luz kept walking. “You heard what he said, Eda. If you and King want to be free…” Luz stopped in front of a ditch and jumped onto a shipwreck. “Then I have to do this alone.”

The witch found it hard to ignore that Luz excluded herself from the “being free” deal, and her heart started pounding at the sight of Luz being above a ditch again. She didn't like where this was going at all. 

“What's this ‘alone’ business? Don't you remember?” Eda tried reminding her. “Us weirdos have to-” 

“What? Stick together?” Luz snapped. She looked at Eda, forlorn, almost startling her with the sadness in her face. “Because you stuck with me you lost your magic! You almost got turned to stone, and now you can't even afford your apple blood because you're worried about what I need to eat!” She rambled, looking down sadly. 

Eda stared at Luz, her heart breaking for the girl. She knew Luz was going through some things, but she didn't think it was this bad. Only a week and a half of them being together again, and Luz still blames herself. She should've paid more attention in the last week. Eda tried to find the words to tell Luz that no, this isn't your fault, you can come down from there and we can find a different way to go back home together. 

But before Eda could come up with an answer, the Selkidomus below growled, meaning it was awake. Luz kept her balance on the beam, then looked away from Eda.

“It's my fault all this happened, that's why I've got to do this alone.” She looked back at Eda, smiling. “I'll make it all up to you, Eda the Owl Lady. I promise.” 

Then, to Eda’s horror, Luz let herself fall off the beam and down the ditch. She couldn't help reaching her hands out, as if she could actually catch her. Her heart dropped to her stomach and she couldn't help crying out Luz’s name. 

No, no, NO-

Suddenly, Eda was reminded of that day on the bridge. Her sister tossing Luz aside like a ragdoll, into the ditch, that terrified little girl screaming as she fell, onto the spikes- 

“LUZ!” 

Eda shook herself out of her stupor, reminding herself of what to do. 

Thinking quickly, Eda grabbed a nearby vibe and lept down the ditch to find her kid.

She just got her back, and she'll be damned if she lost her again.

Soon enough, the witch found a safe ledge to stand on and Eda spotted the kid on the ground, preparing to throw herself at the Selkidomus, which was already defending itself. Eda spotted a nearby branch, thick and strong enough to use. She tugged on it, preparing to swing. 

Just as Luz had catapaulted herself in the air with her ice glyph, Eda swung in just in time. She wrapped an arm around Luz, holding her as tight and as close as possible under one arm so she wouldn't be dropped. 

I gotcha, kiddo!

Thankfully they were able to avoid the creature’s jaws and landed safely in a bush. 

As soon as they landed, Luz had tumbled out of Eda’s arms and clumsily sat back up. Eda recovered as well, turning back to the kid. 

Eda pointed a finger at Luz, and she stared back with wide eyes, startled. 

“You think throwing your life away is gonna help me? Well it won't.” Eda said firmly. She needed Luz to hear this. Luz deserved to hear this. 

“You helped me find King’s crown when you barely knew me, you saved me from turning to stone,” Eda averted her eyes from the kid, starting to feel emotional. “And you even got me talking to my sister again.” She looked back up, seeing that Luz was still listening. 

“So…unfortunately for you…my life is pretty great because I'm friends with Luz the Human.” Eda finished, her voice wavering. 

That seemed to be exactly what Luz needed, because now she was looking at her with glistening eyes and a trembling lip.

Eda blinked her eyes hard to keep the tears at bay, and her face got serious again.

Focus, Eda, we need to get out of here.

“Now,” She snapped out of it and grabbed Luz’s face, startling her. “Your guilt-ridden brain is clouding your judgement.” She said, poking Luz’s forehead. “There’s gotta be a way out of this where no one has to get hurt.” Eda let go of the kid’s cheeks and looked around the cave.

Just then, a small noise made them turn around. A baby Selkidomus had approached them. Luz looked at it for a moment, putting the pieces together in her head, then turned back to Eda.

“Eda,” the witch looked at Luz, willing to hear any plan she had right now.

“Do you wanna learn your first glyph?” She asked with a determined smile, holding up one of her light glyphs.

Not for the first time, Eda marvels at just how bright her kid is.

~

Later, Luz and Eda had managed to create a fake Selkidomus out of plant glyphs and made it work by using the light glyphs to fool the Golden Guard into thinking they were fighting the real thing.

The power of theatrics and a bright young mind. 

Moments later, Eda had gotten up and used whatever paper was left to draw more light glyphs on the ground. 

She still remembers the first time Luz casted these glyphs. They were so beautiful, and Eda always found them comforting. And now she gets to draw them herself. It only took a week for her to finally try it, but it was worth it.

It wasn’t long before Luz returned with King safely out of the cage. When she approached, Eda took a ball of light in her hands and glanced up at Luz.

“My first glyph! Did I do good?” If she was being completely honest, Eda felt like a giddy little kid again, learning new magic and sharing it with the people she loved. It felt wonderful.

Luz observed her with a bright smile. “Yeah! You did great!”

The baby Selkidomus returned, quickly worming its way toward Luz, nuzzling her, which delighted the kid as she was hugging back.

“Baby, awwwww!” She cooed, and a part of Eda was relieved to see the Luz she knew begin to return.

“Wait- what is that?!” King asked, alarmed.

“Don’t worry, King, once the mother saw we weren’t a threat to her baby she calmed down.” Eda reassured, patting the baby gently. Then she turned to the mother behind them. “This area is dangerous,” she explained. “You need to move further out, into the sea.” 

Understanding Eda’s warning, the creature nodded. Then something strange happened. It started...gagging. Until it puked up a pile of some gold goop, which Eda recognized to be Selkie Gris.

Mother of Titan, they hit the jackpot!

Luz stared at it with disgust for a few seconds before Eda excitedly pulled her close in a side hug. 

“Hot dang! It gave you the treasure of the sea!” Eda said in excitement, holding her kid with one arm and holding the other arm out to present their prize.

“Gold? ...Tuna?” Luz said in confusion.

“It’s Selkie Gris!” Eda let Luz go and scooped some of the stuff into her hands. “People pay big money for it at the night market!” Seeing Luz’s still confused face, she got an idea. The witch smushed it in her hands and took the opportunity to rub it on the kid’s face. “Ahh, feeelll the money, Luz! Luxuriate it!” She teased. 

“No, no, Eda! Ahh!” As expected, Luz protested and squirmed against the touch, but she was starting to laugh, which is what Eda wanted. 

Eda smirked, taking hold of the kid’s hands as she tried and failed to get away. “What? Don’t like to luxuriate? There’s a whole pile of luxury right here!” Then she grabbed Luz’s arms and swiftly tossed her into the pile, earning a yelp from the girl. “Move over!” Eda said, following suit and landing face down.

“Edaa!” Luz protested, but she broke out into laughter with Eda. It filled the witch with much joy to see Luz laughing and smiling again. She deserved it after the rough day they just had.

With that being said, after a minute, Eda got up and decided it was finally time to head home. Maintaining her balance, she reached her hands out to Luz and hoisted her up, keeping a tight grip on her so she wouldn’t fall. 

Thankfully, the Golden Guard didn’t obliterate her boat, so they had a way back home. Eda used an extra sack she had to bag the Selkie gris so they could take it home. It was significantly lighter than the snails. They would have to make a trip the night market to trade it off soon. Something had finally gone right today!

“You ready to go home?” Eda asked, turning to Luz, who was settled behind her with King on her shoulder. 

“Aye-aye, captain!” Luz said, saluting. 

That’s the Luz I know and love, Eda thought. “Alrighty then, brace yourself!” and she, King and Luz started their way back home.

~

It was seven in the evening, and the trio had made it home. After Lilith had presented her scrying potion, Eda had gone off to order their takeout, leaving Luz alone with her thoughts in the hallway.

...Something Luz really didn’t like doing. 

A lot had happened all in one night, from her and Eda getting ambushed by the Golden Guard, to her being forced to go slay the Selkidomus (knowing she was about to take away a baby’s mother back there made it worse to think about), to Eda talking her out of it. 

In all honesty, Luz felt like she needed to hear those words. Eda was right. She had done so much to help her, and she did seem happier whenever Luz was around. Maybe she wasn��t a burden after all…

She was snapped out of her thoughts when the witch in question came back around the corner. 

“Well, I’m tired. How about you, kid?” She said, yawning. 

“Hungry.” Luz said simply. 

“Don’t worry, food should be here in about a half hour.” Eda replied, ruffling Luz’s hair. Then she noticed a familiar look on her face. “You okay, kid?”

Luz shook herself out of her thoughts. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Eda put a hand on her shoulder. “I know that look. You’re deep in thought.” Luz looked down at the floor. “Do you wanna talk about it? You know you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” The witch knew it would only make it worse for the girl to keep things inside. And after what happened in the cave, she wanted to know how it got this bad.

Luz supposes it wouldn’t hurt. She trusted Eda. “Okay…” she gave a small nod. 

Eda slung an arm around her shoulders. ‘’C’mon, walk with me.” and the two walked slowly down the hallway. 

“A lot just happened tonight.”

“That’s for sure.” Eda agreed. “I- you really scared me back there, you know?” she said, hand tightening on Luz’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Luz answered. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Eda. She supposes she doesn’t always consider that endangering herself contributes to that. “I just...wanted to make things right.”

They stopped walking as Eda turned to her. “You don’t owe me anything, Luz. You know that, right?” She said, meeting the girl’s eyes.

“But-”

“No buts. I promise I’m not angry, kiddo, I just hate seeing you like this.” She sighs. “I wish you would’ve told me before things got this far.” Noticing Luz starting to sag, she guides them to sit against the wall so they can talk more comfortably.

“I promise I’m not angry.” Eda repeats softly. “You're just a kid, you really shouldn't have to carry shit like this…”

Luz takes a breath and continues to speak. “I hated seeing you and Lilith have such a hard time with money. And most of the money that we did have was spent on me. I-I thought that if I got a big enough bounty, you wouldn’t have to worry so much about me anymore, and I wouldn’t be such a burden to you.” Luz could feel tears starting to build up. “But I guess I messed that up.”

“Hey.” Eda said, tilting Luz’s wobbling chin up. “Listen to me. Don’t you think like that.” She moved the hand to Luz’s shoulder. “You were never a burden, okay?”

Luz looked at her with teary eyes. “Really?”

“Really. A burden is an unwanted responsibility. But you?” Eda used her thumb to gently wipe away some of Luz’s tears. “I’ll never get tired of you. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. I want to take care of you. You mean so much to me.” 

At this point, Luz is smiling wide with a few stray tears rolling down her face. “Do you really mean that?”

Eda nodded, cupping her cheek. “Of course I do. I told you a week ago that I don’t regret anything. You’re a wonderful kid, Luz. Anyone that calls you otherwise is stupid.” Luz giggles at that. “I’ll pummel anyone that says otherwise.”

Luz hesitantly moves in for a hug, and Eda draws her in easily. “You promise?”

Eda nods, pulling Luz closer. “I promise. It’s okay.” She begins to stroke Luz’s hair a little bit. Then another thought intrudes her mind. Her grip tightens around her kid once more. 

“You really scared me when you jumped down there…” Eda spoke. “I thought I was gonna lose you again.” The memory of Luz falling towards those spikes is never going away anytime soon. The witch felt like her nightmares were coming true. No way in hell does she ever want to go through that again.

Luz nuzzles closer. “I know… I promise I’ll be more careful.” She isn’t sure it’s a promise she can keep, but she’s willing to try. A part of Luz notices that Eda’s becoming more and more casual with touch, but chooses to ignore it.

“Good.” Eda pulled away from the embrace, still holding Luz by her shoulders. “Remember that, okay? I don’t want you talking to yourself like this.” She said, tapping the kid’s head.

“I will.” Before they got up, Luz moved in for one more hug. “I love you, Eda.” Not for the first time, Luz was grateful that Eda made no small effort to just be there for her. She underestimated her.

Eda hugged her back. “I love you too, Luz.”

Then, a knock at the door, and a screech from Hooty.

“Looks like the food’s here! You still hungry, kiddo?” 

“Oh my god, yes.” Luz groaned. 

Eda laughed, stood up, and offered a hand to help Luz up. Unfortunately, the girl stood up too quickly, causing her to stumble a bit.

“Ahhh, head rush, head rush!” Luz murmured. She held onto Eda’s hand.

“You good?” Eda asked with a laugh.

“Yup, yup, I’m good. Just stood up too fast.”

“Wanna race to the kitchen?” Eda offered. “I’ll give you a head start.”

Luz chuckled. “You’re on!”

Yeah, Eda thought, looking fondly at her kid. I still don’t regret anything.

And Luz looked at Eda, seeing her heterochromatic eyes. True, the witch might've lost all her powers, but she didn't lose her love.

[izzabeean]

Chapter 11 : Apprehensive

SUMMARY

You never thought it would be this hard to open up.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 2,376

content : profanity

tags :  alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : Hello! Apologies for this late post. Everything has been a bit hectic lately and I’m struggling to keep up with work and my free time. I have started to slack a bit on my writing. It’s a bit on the shorter side but here is the next chapter!

Because I’m new to this and have bit more off than I can chew, I’ve noticed some timeline errors when writing this chapter. I couldn’t just let it go and had to go back to correct them. 

For those who do not wish to re-read chapter 8 (I understand, it’s a hefty one), please note that at the beginning of the chapter, Y/N and Iwaizumi have a heart-to-heart. Originally it jumps to the same day, but that is an error on my part. The rest of the chapter actually takes place later in the week. So Y/N has spent almost a week at Oikawa’s apartment. 

I appreciate you all for tagging along for this ride. I definitely have been aching to write about Hanamaki or Matsukawa, but will once this series has been completed! Thanks so much xx

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Walking into the empty corridor, you blink at the torn-up flooring exposing the bones of the apartment while noticing dust in the air from the sunlight trickling in through the living room window. Living here for almost four years gave you the alone time you needed. But now it felt foreign. The familiar serene getaway from the pressure of your parents breathing down your neck was now emanating dark energy. A place once full of bright memories seems to turn into the last place you wish to be.

“What is?” Iwaizumi exclaims, following behind you. 

“It’s just weird,” you murmur, smiling up at Iwaizumi. “I haven’t seen it this empty since I moved in.”

That day didn’t feel too long ago. 

As cliche as it sounds, it almost did feel like yesterday. Getting settled into the new space, unsure what to do with yourself in the silence of the apartment. But it wasn't long before you made friends with Oikawa who would come over to study together. He'd always bring snacks from your favorite dessert place and sometimes, if you could convince him, he would stay over to watch your favorite series. Yes, he would complain that he hated it, that it was slow, uninteresting and he's seen better. Then he would shut up and watch knowing that you enjoyed his company in the lonely apartment. 

Your gaze shifts to the bedroom doorway. The last night you spent there, it was with Oikawa, but before that, it was always Ushijima. Not every single night, but when he did, you felt safe pressed up against his broad frame under the covers. Thinking about it now, it makes you regret that you didn't indulge in it more back then.

When you started seeing Ushijima, he became the priority. He would come over for study dates and you'd never have to ask twice to persuade him to watch television series or movies with you. Truthfully, you miss those days. Everything was so simple and new. It felt like a breath of fresh air that you were aching to find. 

Yet here you are now just remembering what you wish to forget. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to just move in with me?” Oikawa sniggers, analyzing the janky water-damaged walls that look like they could disintegrate at any moment.

"What? You finally have the balls to say this place isn’t good enough for you?" you mock, raising an eyebrow at him waiting for his answer. 

"No, it's just…” he pauses before continuing, half-heartedly afraid he will offend you. “Old."

You roll your eyes. Yeah it's older than any twenty-something-year-old would want to live in, but you didn't care because of the location to the university and honestly, in your eyes, the apartment is quaint and homey. 

“You always have something to say. Don't you, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi fumes, eyes sending daggers in Oikawa’s direction. 

You couldn't help but let out a snicker that catches Iwaizumi's attention, shooting you a little smile. The natural draw your body has towards Iwaizumi is intoxicating. Your entire mind turns to putty when he looks at you like all your worries will just disappear upon his gaze. Maybe that's why you unconsciously kiss him the other night. 

You don't want him to leave. You want him to stay. But how can you say that when you haven't known him for very long. The Iwaizumi now is so much different from the Iwaizumi in elementary school. Yet you wanted to get to know this person standing in front of you so much more and the limited time made your heartache all over again. 

"Are you excited to move back in?" Iwaizumi asks, his eyes still locked on you.

“Yeah,” you utter, the sound of your heartbeat feels louder than your words. “I can’t wait to settle back in. I miss--”

Ding!

The sound reverberates from Iwaizumi's pocket. 

“Shit, one second,” he exclaims, voice emitting a hint of embarrassment as he takes out his phone to read the text message he just received. “Fuck, I totally forgot. I'm supposed to meet up with some friends.”

“Oh,” you stammer. The words are laced with disappointment, but you remember you don't have Iwaizumi all to yourself. No, he isn't yours, unfortunately. And with that, you quickly switch forcing a smile to hide the gutted feeling encompassing your body. "It's fine!"

“I’m so sorry, I’ll catch up later. Just text me if you guys end up going somewhere else,” he calls out before rushing out the door.

The sound of the door shutting cues a rush of anguish flooding your chest as you wonder where he’s gone off to in such a hurry. He did say friends, but friends could mean anything including a girl. 

Oikawa continues to walk around the apartment and you feel your face pale as you wonder what he's thinking if he knows who Iwaizumi's friends are.  

Stop. You couldn't let yourself spiral into those thoughts. It wasn't like you to think this way, but you can't help yourself when you fear the same disappointment that surges you on the day you saw Ushijima and Sara together. 

Fuck. At least insurance is giving you a bit of a break with the repair costs.

“Landlord says another week until repairs are done," you finally say, breaking the silence. "Then I can start moving my stuff back in.”

“Maybe don’t celebrate just yet, knowing your luck.” Oikawa taunts.

“Oh, is it because you’re going to miss me?” you scoff, attempting to make him squirm, but he plays right into your hands without hesitation.

“Yeah right, thought you said you were sick of me," he japes, taking a swing at the words that practically stung before.

“I guess you could say that...” you breathe.

Your words taste bitter with a drop of guilt as they leave your tongue. Perhaps you felt you owed a lot to Oikawa for basically saving your ass.

With the apartment.

With Ushijima.

You look at the bandage on his face and your eyes trail down to his bruised knuckles. Perhaps you wanted to do more than just buying him his favorite drink. Yet, you didn't even know where to start or what he would want to make things even.

“I-- I’m just joking, just to clarify. Of course, I’m not sick of you,” you sigh, reverting eye contact as you muster up the courage to express your thoughts. “I’m very happy to have you.”

I don’t know what I’m saying, you think while peering at the confusion spread on Oikawa's face. You don't normally open up to him about this kind of stuff and you feel your body burning under his gaze. 

“Sorry this is a bit weird,” you exclaim as the nerves take over and you bite your tongue before you say anything else. 

“No, no, I’m interested now,” Oikawa purrs.

“Well, maybe now I don’t want to tell you!”

"Of course you do," he persuades slyly grinning.

Normally the gesture makes you recoil as you witness his flirtatious nature that you've never succumbed to because that's just how Oikawa Tōru was. But instead, it just pushes the words out. 

"Th-- thank you,” you say unable to even look up at him. “For everything. You’ve really been there for me when no one else has.” 

At first, you think he's going to laugh in your face. In fact, you expected it so, but when you trail your eyes back to meet his, he sends you a small smile. 

“That’s what friends are for, right?” Oikawa comforts.

With a deep breath, you stare into his chocolate brown eyes, drinking in his gaze and he’s giving you that look. It’s the same look he gave you last night when you were patching up his wounds. And it makes your heartthrob. 

“You’re really something Tōru. No wonder all the girls fall for you,” you tease, in an attempt to push away the flush of embarrassment from his words.

“I wouldn’t say all,” Oikawa chuckles. 

His voice is low and sultry, and you wonder what he means by that as contentment warmed you from within.

The exchange lingers but you clear your throat and turn away to walk around the apartment. The gesture causes Oikawa to shift his weight from side to side looking at your figure in the small space. 

“I think I’ve seen more than enough,” you exhale taking one last glance out the living room window. “Shall we head out?”

“Sure.”

Oikawa walks down the short hallway, while you take a moment longer to soak up your apartment.

“See you soon,” you whisper before turning your back to leave.

Just as you close the door behind you to lock up, you hit your back into Oikawa’s frame who is standing firmly behind you. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, then peak behind his body to see Ushijima standing at the end of the hallway.“Wa-Wakkun… What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you,” he demands. 

Although you can't get a good look at him in detail, you can see his face is bandaged up from Oikawa’s punch.

“I don’t--”

“And you think I’m going to let that happen?” Oikawa rages, placing his body in between you and Ushijima. 

“Tōru, it’s okay,” you reiterate, touching his shoulder lightly to reassure it's not worth his energy. 

“Or did you not understand anything from last night?” Oikawa continues ignoring your words and shaking your hand off his shoulder. 

“Maybe we should ask Y/N instead of you making decisions for her,” Ushijima booms, remaining calm.

“Tōru, come on,” you sneer, grabbing his arm to pull him along, but he wiggles your hand off once again.

“I know for a fact she doesn’t want to talk to you," he sputters, eyes narrowing on Ushijima. 

But your patience hit its limit. This time your anger couldn't be pushed down as your blood starts to boil. And you unleashed it in front of Oikawa, stepping in front of him shooting him a furious glare.

“Are you going to fucking listen or not?”

Your voice snaps him to his senses seeing your eyes glossed over but filled with rage. 

“You don’t speak for me,” you thundered. “Let’s go.”

You grab his hand and yank him forward, walking by Ushijima ignoring him.

“Y/N, please,” Ushijima pleads.

Yet you don't turn back. You can't. It isn't in your best interest to talk it out or hear his point of view. This isn't something that can be fixed with words. He hurt you and you could not surrender what is left of your dignity. You had to move on, in your own way just as he's doing.

“Don’t fucking do that again,” you bark as you continue to drag Oikawa behind holding his hand tightly.

“That guy is basically stalking you,” Oikawa argues trying to keep up with your frantic strides. 

“So what? I can handle it myself.”

“I was just trying to help--”

“And look what happened last time!” 

Your legs come to a stop and you swallow thickly. Your voice erupts as your heart sinks at the realization of how angry and guilty you feel, of how mad you are at yourself for letting Oikawa get in the middle of your issues with Ushijima. The familiar sense of dread returns and the look from Oikawa’s shocked wide eyes make you regret your outburst.

“You got hurt because of me,” you manage to breathe, slowly sliding your hand out of his. 

But before you let go, he grabs it tight then pulls you in close, your face enveloped into his chest and his chin resting on the top of your head. The sensation offsets your frustration and anger, you hadn't known it, but once you received the warm and comforting embrace you realize it’s what you really needed all this time. 

“If we left at the beginning of the night, you would’ve been fine,” you gasp, trying to get the words out, but your voice breaks a little. Your chest feels tight like your heart is going to burst any moment now as it continues to descend deeper and deeper into dread. 

Oikawa doesn’t say a word, afraid that he’ll ruin the moment if he does. His worry grows as he takes a deep breath in expecting you to smell like nicotine or ting of smoke, from the secret you have been keeping from him. But you have this indescribable scent that draws him in closer heating up his entire body as he presses yours into his. Not wanting to let go. 

“But because I had to prove a point, we stayed,” you continue, and feel tears beginning to form, blurring your vision. “I’m the one at fault here.”

"No Y/N," Oikawa says trying to soothe you. He thinks he can forget the throbbing pain in his chest as he looks at you undone before him. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry for involving myself."

"It's okay," you say taking a sharp breath. He smells so good and his hug is doing wonders for your mental health but you pull away worried that you've overstayed your welcome.

“Why do you hate him so much anyway?” you sniffle, wiping the tears with your sleeve. 

“Mmm don’t know…” he murmurs.“I just don’t like him.” 

You frown at his reply. Does he really not have an actual explanation? 

“Well that’s stupid,” you breathe, unsure if you actually believe it. “Did he steal a girl from you or something?”

“No!” he responds, quicker than he wishes he did. He remembers when you first mentioned Ushijima’s name, there was a sparkle in your eyes he’s never seen before. At that moment, he promised himself to not get in the way and remain neutral, but Oikawa was much pettier than that. 

“Who was it?” you snort, only half sure he’ll actually tell you. 

“No one,” he chuckles. “We don’t have the same type anyway.”

“Why? I’m not your type?” 

Your voice is soft and innocent as he pauses to analyze whether you are being serious or not. 

“Kidding! Obviously,” you snarl. 

By now, there’s this ease of tension between the two of you as you lapse into silence. Nothing more needed to be said.

[prbni]

Dramione Headcanons/Prompts

(Note:Might update the post and tags according to the requirement)

A 15 y/o Scorpius Malfoy accidentally stumbles upon a pensive of his father, that contains the memories of a certain witch he had feelings for before he met Scorp's mother. Seeing the loneliness and despair that has fallen upon his father after the death of his mother Astoria, Scorpius decides to use the prohibited Time-Turner to change the courses of the past.

But this meant two things: he'd never be able to experience the love and warmth of his mother and....he probably would cease to exist.

"This is madness Scorp!" Albus shouted angrily. " Uncle Ron and Auntie Mione are happily married. They have loved each other for ages. And this also means,Rose wouldn't exist as well. Do you really intend to do this over the one-sided crush that your father had on Auntie Mione once upon a time?!"

Basically, Albus trying to convince him in all possible ways that this is a bad idea.

Cue to Ron and Hermione arguing at the backyard of Harry-Ginny's house. They even forgot to cast Silencing Charm. Hence,everyone including the kids heard their argument.

"Oh,stop behaving like you're the only one who has been compromising in this marriage!!! Did I tell you to give up your position in the Ministry of Magic? No!" Ron yelled. " Why are you even bringing this up?! I never said it was your fault or anything!"Hermione tried to reason. "BECAUSE I'M TIRED. TIRED OF EVERYONE PRETENDING LIKE YOU HAVE DONE ME A FAVOR BY MARRYING ME WHEN IT IS THE OPPOSITE!!!" "Wh-what do you mean?"Hermione asked meekly. Ron scoffed. "Your parents are gone,Hermione. If we didn't take you into the Burrow, you wouldn't have anywhere to go. You needed us. You needed me." Hermione looked like she was trying to process the words that Ron just said. Or maybe, she was just trying to convince herself that Ron is capable of saying something like this. It's just Ron being in a foul mood. He definitely doesn't mean it."Ron let's talk about this tomorrow, okay?" Hermione tried to calm herself down. "Harry and Ginny are probably waiting for us in the dining table."

"Why? Can't face the truth?" Ron sneered. "If you were sensible enough Ronald, we'd be having this conversation at our own home,with a Silencing Charm on and without children listening to this," Hermione retorted while hinting towards Albus and Scorpius behind them,who were looking warily back and forth between the older duo. It took a while before Ron realised what she meant and grudgingly complied to go inside the house.

Scorpius gave Albus a if-this-is-what-you-mean-by-them-being-a-happy-couple look.

"Well,older couples fight. My parents fight as well. Uncle Ron is a bit aggressive,you know. But they have been like this for years.Also we don't know what actually happened between them.See,Aunty Mione didn't even fight him back," defended Albus."She didn't fight back because she knew we were listening,Al. And I don't know but this sounded more like defamation than argument." Albus sighed loudly,aware that there's no point in arguing. "So, you're still keen on getting Mr.Malfoy and Auntie Granger together in the past?" he asked instead.

"I think now I'm even more keen on getting them together,"Scorpius replied with a slight grin.

Yule Ball AU: Draco is awed when Hermione descends downstairs.

His expressions form into a scowl when he witnesses Ron and Hermione's encounter,and it pisses him off to no end when he sees her crying.

"Pathetic shite really. Ruined the whole festive mood" he mutters to himself. Even all the purring and cooing of Pansy Parkinson beside him couldn't fix his mood."Well that's what she gets for gushing over Weaselby of all possible blokes. Even Longbottom or Potter would know better than making her cry at the Ball. Seems like Weasley lacks in everything,even courting manners. But well,what do I care?"

"Enough to disturb others' sleep through your late night self-indulgent altercations" a voice drawled in beside his bed.

"Seriously,mate. Try to sleep or let others sleep. This was a long,tiring day and we have a tournament ahead,"Theo grumbled from under the covers while Draco shot a glare at this direction.

Another Time Travel fic. This time it's Hermione and Draco going back to time for their own purposes but getting entangled in the middle as they decide to help each other out before returning to the original timeline.

"Be wise before you hold my hand,Granger" Draco said. "I'm not just offering you for a dance. I'm offering you for a lifetime with me. Once you accept this, you're never returning to Weasley."

If Hermione didn't know better what Draco looks like and sounds like when he's joking,she'd almost think this was just one of his attempts at flirting. But one look at his eyes and the intonation of his words sent her shivers.

"That's not how time traveling works,Malfoy. We aren't supposed to end up together. That's not why we're here,"she explained.

"It's okay,Granger. You can just tell me you don't want this,"he chuckled bitterly. "For if you did, you wouldn't care what happens and what's supposed to happen. You'd just join me without excuses."

"I'm not making excuses,Draco. I'm a mother as well. If I mess here in this timeline, they'd be gone there in the future,"seethed Hermione.

One of the common tropes here: Compulsory Marriage under Marriage Law post-war. Here, Hermione is literally fighting with the Ministry to prevent her marriage with Draco. While Draco reluctantly agreed to the marriage since this was the only way to save himself from landing into Azkaban, Hermione had a huge outburst.

"Minister,are you seriously telling me I have to marry this git?" Hermione scoffed in disbelief. "Now now Granger. That's not the way to refer to your future husband," Draco drawled in. She almost forgot Kingsley called both of them to talk about their compatibility in terms of marriage. "Quite rich coming from someone that called me filthy mudblood the entire time he'd known me".That seemed to shut Draco up. The Minister in the question coughed a bit to grab their attention. "Hermione, I'm sorry,okay? I tried talking with the other ministers about this. But nobody including myself seem to come up with a solution better than this." "Granger, don't act like this is a punishment only for you. If choices or circumstances were any better, I'd rather do a dirty dance with goblins of the Gringotts than showing up here and talk about the prospect of marriage....or whatever this is," Draco said in an annoyed tone."Serves you right for all the horrid things you were part of," Hermione replied to him and then turned to Shacklebolt, " I understand why and how this is a punishment to him. But this is a punishment to me as well. And what am I being punished for?"she almost cried out. Draco visibly flinched a bit. "Ever since I stepped into the Wizarding World, almost everyone has taken a knack of making a point to me that I'll never be good enough to belong here. So, I studied.I learnt as much as possible,more than anyone else and tried to dedicate myself to whatever it takes to make a perfect witch. Then, Voldemort returned. Second Wizarding War came along. Everyone talks about what or who has been lost who has made sacrifices but does anyone know I had to take it to myself to wipe out my parents' memories of me and drive them away because the Wizarding World cannot provide them with protection?!"Her eyes were glistened and voice became hoarse. "Hermione,you have to know I'm sorry and thankful-" "No,Minister. I'm not holding anyone accountable for what became of my parents. That's completely my own doing.What I'm trying to understand is after everything I've seen and been through, why am I to be hitched against my own volition to this rotten scum of a Deatheater?!" "Ex.Death. Eater,"Draco said in a dangerously low voice. "You have all the reasons to hate me,Granger. But don't carelessly throw around words like you know me. Despite all the hatred and animosity over the years, I tried to warn you during the Triwizard tournament. I didn't want you to end up at the Manor and I definitely didn't want this!"he shrieked pointing at her forearm where that eight-lettered word was curved in forever. "I didn't want this either," he said in a softer tone,pointing at his own forearm and own scar this time. "So,you see. I'm not the good guy that you'd want as your husband. But I'm not as evil as you expect me to be either." Draco's eyes held nothing but honesty and sincerity which took Hermione aback. "Have you said your piece?" she asked with a renewed vigor to which Draco nodded.

"I'd submit my wand and all magical articles to your office tomorrow,Minister. And return to the Muggle world for good. I shall take your leave now." With that she stomped out of the room without even sparing the other two wizards a glance or letting them speak.

Draco's boggart wasn't his father's disappointment in him. Heck it wasn't even the Dark Lord himself. His boggart was a certain Muggleborn witch crying and writhing in pain on the stone cold floor of the Manor,her screams ringing through the Manor walls tortured by his own aunt while he stands there like a coward, doing nothing,not even looking at her.

After being able to successfully able to restore her parents' memories using the Memory Charm,ever-so-curious Hermione Granger tries it on herself. What she didn't expect was an overwhelming rush of memories consisting of a certain very familiar blonde with very unfamiliar moments between them. Shock,surprise,sadness and anger crashed down on her altogether. Did anyone else know? Had he obliviated himself as well?

She knew accepting a dare from Weasley Twins meant trouble. Yet,when they called her a scaredy cat for trying to back down from the bet,she lunged into it. Even if that meant she had to stalk Draco Malfoy the annoying ferret for a week while disillusioning herself. What she didn't realise was that the thing that started as a dare would become habit while being thrust into a totally different perspective of what the-boy-who-made-her-school-life-hell really was.

She was tired of being called ‘boring’ and ‘no fun’. The one time she decided to pull on a prank was on someone no one would expect. Draco Malfoy. So,when an accident happens while concucting the Love Potion and the cauldron explodes,Hermione falls in love with her forever nemesis. Or should I say, pretends to fall in love with him.Draco Malfoy was already having a hard time accomplishing the task he was assigned with. A bushy headed witch being all sappy and clingy was the last thing he needed at the moment.

[anobscurename]

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XIX — masterlist

concept: you finally have had enough. the slowest of slow burns. part twenty of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 2,4k

warnings: you might cry; i know i did. angst.

author's note: i needed my comedic relief comfort characters for this one in the beginning tbh cause... well... you'll see. this one is for @miss-jackson500 because i haven't dedicated one to her yet and she's? amazing?!

You had wondered – for the days that followed – that if maybe the rescheduled meet-up hadn't been cut short by Anthony, if things would be different.

You came to the conclusion that all that really would've been different was that you'd know a little less.

"You're finally going to do it, huh?" Anthony grinned from across the pool table. You had, according to the original plan, all come together at the old bar where you'd first met the two. "You're going to tell him how you feel?"

"Is it a bad idea?" You asked, missing your shot. Your mind was heavily distracted, and it was showing through. You were usually wiping the floor with the duo, but now you were losing four balls to one.

"No, no, it's a fantastic idea," Anthony bent down to line up his next shot. "Tell her it's a fantastic idea, Seb. Better yet, tell me who the Black Widow should be with."

Sebastian, who had been sat to the side, waiting for his turn, rolled his eyes and took a swig of his beer. "I admit nothing until I see a ring."

"Speaking of rings!" Anthony jumped up excitedly – either from the prospect of marriage or the thrill of pocketing his ball, leaving team Falcon and Winter Soldier with just the black on the table – "I'm thinking a round cut two carat, set in rose gold? Colour scheme would he lavender, of course, because as best man–"

"You can get fucked if you think you're going to be best man."

"Of course I'm best man! Look at me, I'm the bestest man around, I'm fine as–"

"You can both get fucked if you think there's going to be a wedding," you laughed.

Anthony hissed a curse under his breath as he missed the winning pocket, reluctantly handing the cue off to Sebastian, who hopped off the stool to land gracefully on his feet.

You chalked your cue, determined to not lose yet another game to these dipshits. "I haven't even told him yet, what if he doesn't feel the same way?"

Anthony and Sebastian both looked at you, incredulous. "I mean this with only love, and it comes from a place deep within my heart... Are you blind?"

Sebastian was even balking. "Even I could tell, and I have the social skills of a pineapple."

"Okay, fine! You both are clearly biased, you saw us kiss."

"No, we watched a softcore porno is what we did, y'all devouring each other like that in public–"

He cut himself short, having to laughingly dodge himself out of the reach of your playful slap.

"I'm asking Scott for the final opinion," you proclaimed.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, eager to play and win the game, bouncing the end of the cue on the wooden bar floor. The rubber stop muted the noise.

You opened up the text thread you had been maintaining with the younger Evans. Should I tell Chris?

You didn't need to elaborate, Scott would know what you meant. There was a pause on his end, and you had just been about to put your phone away before his response bubbled up.

Sorry, was just changing your name in my phone to sister-in-law ;)

That was all the answer you needed.

You finished the game – you lost, mind overrun with giddiness and the odds having been stacked against you long before – and you were hugging Anthony goodbye.

When you'd asked where he was headed, he'd just given you a sly wink and a "wouldn't you like to know."

That left just you and Sebastian, and you decided to walk him back to his hotel before heading home.

"How long you going to be in L.A. for?" You'd asked, just to make conversation.

"A week or so, maybe? And then I'm jetting back to New York. I haven't been home in so long, I think the dust has taken over my lease."

You chuckled, and continued on in a pleasant silence.

You gave him a departing hug in the lobby, and hailed a cab back to Chris'.

You were so high on the exhilaration of finally telling him and ending this will they/won't they charade once and for all. So excited, you'd nearly missed the unfamiliar Bentley in the driveway on your way in.

But it didn't go unnoticed.

You came in, greeted happily by a yapping Dodger, and the smell that hit you was one of Valentino perfume – overpowering the usual scent of Chris lingering in the house.

"Hey, Dodge," you whispered, giving him a vigorous petting session. "Where's Chris? Where's your dad?"

Dodger gave your hand a wet lick, slobbering over your keys, and you laughed lightly.

The door to the pool was open, and you could hear splashing and giggling – pitched more feminine than you'd ever heard Chris go.

Curiosity killed the cat. And satisfaction was never going to resurrect the plummet of your excitement. No, that was replaced by shock and anger. Even if you knew you had no right to feel that way.

"Chris?" You'd called out as you padded across the lounge. "Chris, whose car is in the driveway? I have something I–"

Blindsided, your slobber slick keys fell from your hand to jangle uselessly onto the ground. It was that that finally grabbed his attention.

He had been otherwise excruciatingly preoccupied with the topless girl in his lap, legs locked around his waist in a languid grind, his hands smoothing over her curves as they all but explored each other's tonsils in a moaning kiss.

Red flashed across your vision as well as your cheeks, and you ducked your head. Embarrassed and feeling stupid, you quickly grabbed your keys. "I'm sorry, I'll go..."

You quickly turned and dashed to your room, ignoring the tears in your eyes, and the call of your name.

"{Your name}, wait!" Chris cried, water sloshing as he clambered out of the pool. "{Your name}!"

You slammed the door shut behind you, making it clear you wanted isolation. Pulling out a duffel bag, you began throwing clothes into it, careless of what you might need, just needing to leave.

Sebastian had asked you once how much more you were going to put yourself through before you'd had enough.

And this was it. This was the breaking point. This was enough.

The strength in which Chris frantically ripped open your door had it banging against the adjacent wall, but you couldn't even look at him. Your eyes were blurry as you continued violently packing your clothes.

You didn't even know where you were going to go. You just knew you had to. Go.

"{Your name}, stop," he said, soft in direct comparison to the panic he felt in his chest. You were leaving him. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" You spat out. And then, just to change the subject, because not even you could bare to dwell on it too much: "You're getting water on your floor."

"{Your name}–"

"Don't talk to me, Chris. Rest your tongue a bit, it sure was busy earlier."

"As was yours, too, I'm sure," he bit back.

Your movements stuttered at the reciprocated rage. To your knowledge, he had no right to feel as you did in that moment. None.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

There was provocation in his eyes, and his searing gaze only fuelled your fire.

"Have fun with Sebastian?"

Your scoff was followed by a bewildered laugh. "I went out tonight with Sebastian and Anthony, Chris. We're friends. Welcome to the world of platonic relationships, professor, we've been waiting for your arrival."

And like the cut strings on a puppet, tension left his body – anger being replaced by confusion.

"I... I thought..."

"You thought wrong, Evans," you seethed, pushing past him to the bathroom to grab your toiletries. You made an effort to bump him, your shirt sticking to your skin with the water droplets still dotting his toned body. "And to think I really thought..."

"Thought what?" His voice cracked out.

"Thought that you might actually care about me!" You finally snapped. You were yelling. You didn't want to yell, but you were, voice echoing in the acoustics of the bathroom.

"I do," he whispered. His conviction was quickly draining from him, being replaced with an inevitable sadness and feeling of loss. You hadn't even left yet, but he knew that nothing he was going to say would make you stay. He knew he'd gone too far. It didn't stop him from trying. "I loved you, {your name}. I still do."

You had hoped that if he ever was to say those words, it would be under different circumstances. In fact, you'd found yourself imagining whole sunset beach scenarios, late into the night.

"I thought you were better than that, Chris. Manipulation? That's low."

"It's true. I've loved you–"

You didn't want to hear it. You weren't going to give him the opportunity of persuading you into staying. You knew you should've left long ago. "I can't say the feeling is mutual."

It was a lie. It was a lie, because if you really had felt nothing, then you wouldn't be acting like this. But you needed the upper hand, because Chris had basically knocked you over with the force of his admittance. You couldn't let yourself be dragged back in. Not this time. You had too much self respect for that. Not when he still had lipstick smudged on his lips, disappearing into the scruff that shadowed his jaw.

You had to avoid looking at his pained expression at your words. No matter how much you were hurting now at his profession of love, you knew he might possibly be hurting a little more at your rejection.

"And if you really did..." You trailed off, struggling to say the words love me. "Well, you have a really funny way of showing it."

"Pretending not to love you is the hardest role I've taken on, and I did it for you."

Red was dancing back into your vision, your shock growing alongside the fury.

"How is that for me?"

"Because that's what you wanted!" He was finding his voice again, raising it in his desperation. "Believe me, I wanted to fight for you. I would, would wage wars for you," he stuttered out. "But you never wanted that from me. You wanted to pull away, from this, from us. And I let you because I would do anything you asked of me."

"So you stayed away because you wanted to keep me?" You worded it slowly, just to make him understand how ridiculous it sounded.

"...Yes."

"Are you stupid? Actually mentally deficient?" You zipped your bag, brushing past him again, this time making sure to have as little contact as possible. He all but occupied the whole doorway.

"If I had told you then you would have left!" He was following you now, following you to the front door. "I told you I wanted you in my life, even if it meant the pain of never having you."

You had hoped to slam the door in his face to make your point known, but where Chris had slacked in fighting for you before, he was making up for now. He caught the door before it could close, trailing after you into the driveway.

"There's something wrong with me. I ruin things. So I let you have your space because you are the greatest thing that has happened to me in a long time, and I'd be fucked if I ruined you too!"

"It's a bit too late for that," you said, finally looking him in those ocean eyes. They were bloodshot with barely restrained tears. But your resolve was iron. "Congratulations, Evans. You've ruined me."

You heard Dodger pawing at the door, whining low and long for you. If you thought leaving Chris was hard, this was what made you break.

But you turned away from them, from that house, tears falling freely. A sob escaped your lips, barely stifled.

"Put on a shirt, Evans," you managed to get out. You wanted the last word, even if it brought very little satisfaction. "You have company."

———————

Your first call was to Anthony. He hadn't picked up, and you remembered his other plans.

The second also went unanswered – the friend who had become a self proclaimed L.A. local upon graduating high school, and who had let you crash at their house when you'd first arrived. She was probably at work, and so you left her a quick voicemail asking her to call you back.

The third did, on only the second ring. You had almost lost hope in anyone else being awake at that point, so you hadn't composed yourself before he picked up.

The first thing he heard was your sob, which you quickly cut off with a greeting.

"What's wrong?"

"Can I crash with you tonight? I need somewhere to go."

"What happened? Did–?"

"I don't want to talk about it," you said quickly. He shut up almost immediately. "I just... Please?"

There was a pensive silence on the other end, and you felt the need to fill it.

"I tried Anthony, but he wasn't picking up."

"Yeah," came the small chuckle crackling on the other end. "He's got a hot date tonight. Must be going well."

"I wouldn't do this if I had anywhere else to go, but I don't, and it'll only be for one night–"

"Of course you can stay," he assured, sushing you softly. "Can't believe I made you ask twice."

————————

Sebastian met you in the lobby, taking you up to his room almost immediately to avoid strange looks and any unwanted public attention.

He explained to you in the elevator that although he had tried to get you your own room, the hotel was fully booked. He sounded quite apologetic for that.

You didn't say much, because if you spoke, you were scared you were going to start crying all over again. And you'd just managed to stop, averting your eyes from your teadstained appearance in the mirrors.

Sebastian's room was a big one, on the pricier end of all the hotel had to offer. A large king sized bed stood to one side, bedsheets twisted as if he'd clambered into it right when he'd gotten back.

There was a lounge suite to the side, looking like a set-up you'd see on the glossy pages of Architectural Digest, and although the curtains were drawn, you could see the city lights sprawling out before you through the crack.

He was still in his outfit from the bar, shirt and jeans slightly rumpled.

The television was on, playing the original Nosferatu quietly in the background.

"I'll take the couch," Sebastian offered, dropping off the bags he'd taken from you.

You declined him with a shake of your head.

"{Your name}," he said, tender, placing both his hands on your shoulders to make you look at him. "You've been through a lot tonight. Take the bed, I've got the couch."

You didn't have the strength to fight his insistence. You didn't have the strength for much any more.

When you'd gotten out the shower, dressed in your pyjamas, Sebastian finally asked you again what had happened.

You just shrugged tiredly, climbing between the cool cotton sheets.

"I just had enough."

[sevenkittensinatrenchcoat]

1998 Film Munkustrap Rewatch Part One

So, since there are a lot of screenshots to cover, I’m going to include a Read More break, like I did the last time something like this happened.

But first, here’s Munkustrap glaring at the audience in a moment of awkward silence. 

Onward! 

During the opening, Munkustrap just picks up Victoria and spins her around a bit. Actors playing Munkustrap have to be good at lifting people.

Munkustrap can roll his eyes at an upward angle. I think we now know where Misto learned his eyerolls from.

Munkustrap has to stand in the back with his dad, but he’s too short and almost completely hidden behind Bombalurina. Oops.

And another creepy eye moment. What’s with that? Are you trying to frighten the children out of the theatre?

Now, I’ve already reblogged a gif set of Munkustrap greeting various characters before the ball gets started, so I’ll just stick to a highlight reel:

From what I’ve noticed in previous watches, Electra is the kitten who cuddles up to Munkustrap the most. Here, she’s not as much “cuddling” as she is “using dad as a scratching post”.

I only realized after I posted the gif set that I had a better joke for this scene.

Original: Misto, trying to be an Adult™

Better: Misto, practicing his airs and graces

As Misto leaves, Munkustrap has a brief moment of confusion. Wasn’t he a kitten like two minutes ago? They grow up so fast!

Misto learned his eyerolls from Munkustrap and his airs and graces from Skimble, who greets Munkustrap like the prince that he sort of his. But, Munk’s a man of the people. He doesn’t really like being treated like royalty.

Here’s some Demestrap again. Due to future screenshots in this post, I would like to reaffirm that I ship Demestrap and see it “endgame”, so to speak. They’re a couple by the end of the show.

Also, the Psychic Twins look like they’re judging, and that’s not cool.

Etcetera can’t read a room and doesn’t realize that Munkustrap’s spending some time with a woman he loves who’d just escaped from being kidnapped. To be fair, it’s hard to explain that to a kitten.

Demeter and Alonzo are the only cats Munkustrap greets with nuzzles. That means they’re both Important.

When it’s time to start up The Old Gumbie Cat number, all the kittens, as well as some younger cats who aren’t kittens anymore, gather round. They are all sitting down to hear the story. Except for Misto, who thinks it’s either his turn to sing, or his turn to be sung about. In the original London production, Misto sings Munkustrap’s part here, so it’d be an easy mistake to make, I suppose.

Anyway, Munkustrap has already noticed that Misto’s not sitting down and seems to realize that Something Is About to Go Wrong.

Sure enough, Something Goes Wrong. But, notice how Munkustrap handles it. When we get to The Pekes and the Pollicles, we’ll see a lot of Munkustrap getting annoyed with everyone’s screw-ups, but throughout this number, he’s very laid-back.

As Misto tries and fails to save face, Munkustrap keeps singing and acting like nothing happened. Misto already feels bad about this mistake, so there’s no reason to get onto him for it. And, as The Center of Attention at the moment, other characters will possibly decide how to react based on his reaction. This can serve as a cue to the kittens that they should also ignore what just happened. The kittens don’t listen, but I suppose it’s the thought that counts.

He also gives Misto the job of opening the car. He both knows that Misto has magic, at least enough to do that, and that Misto really just wanted to be included and giving him some sort of job would make him feel better and distract everyone from his previous mistake.

I get the feeling that this sort of thing happens quite often.

But, enough about that. Let’s talk about the cat Munkustrap is singing about.

Munkustrap shows a lot of affection for Jenny throughout the number, an affection that she appears to return. In general, Munkustrap gets along well with the older cats, especially when compared to his brother.

And then things like this happen. 

And this too. 

We see kittens playing with the tails of older cats from time to time, but they usually tug on them or pounce on them. Munkustrap spends several seconds just stroking Jenny’s tail.

Look, I’m not saying they’re a couple, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there was something between the two at some point.

Another interesting thing about the number is that when other cats mess up, Munkustrap lets Jenny handle it herself. Pouncival comes out in his beetle costume too early and Munkustrap barely reacts. He trusts Jenny to share the job of directing the kittens.

The Tugger crashes the party. Munkustrap leads Jenny away to safety. This sort of youthful debauchery could give a lady like her a heart attack.

Munkustrap spends Tugger’s number standing on the tire and just waiting for it to stop. Once his brother starts something like this, all he can do is wait it out. Still, Skimble worries a bit.

He also checks on Asparagus, possibly apologizing for his brother’s behavior. Yeah, he does this sort of thing a lot, but the older cats will never get used to it.

[aer-in-wanderland]

구미호뎐 | 김범 - Kim Beom ‘Lee Rang Talk’ Instagram LIVE 2020.12.01 

In which Kim Beom addresses fan questions and comments he searched the internet for personally, entirely of his own accord. #Bless ♡♡♡

Time signatures are from this recording uploaded to youtube -> [x]

Because the LIVE was quite long (nearly an hour) I’ve selected out questions and topics that I thought were interesting. For the parts that I omitted, I’ve left time signatures and brief descriptions of what was discussed. If there’s a topic you're curious about that I haven’t included here, feel free to send me an ask. Finally, because the sound quality isn’t the best and he’s sitting back from the camera, there were a few words here and there that I had trouble making out. Sorry in advance!

Introduction & Greeting

Yes, hello! This is actor Kim Beom. And I’m Lee Rang. Before the final episode, before the final week’s broadcast, I wanted to greet you all directly, so I’ve appeared like this dressed as Lee Rang. And...right now you can think of me as someone somewhere in between Kim Beom and Lee Rang. 

To be honest, there’s no decided format. I just went and looked up the things you all were curious about on my own. It could be a bit incoherent, but I hope you’ll enjoy watching. Also, I think there are fans who are worrying how I’ll do a LIVE, since I don’t really know how to, and I haven’t even been on Instagram that long, but actually, in order to do this, I spent the weekend writing the script myself (holding up his cue cards). I wrote the script myself. Actually, yesterday I also had a meeting about how to do an InstaLive, so I hope you’ll enjoy watching. 

[0:01:22~0:02:20] Greeting to international fans in English

[I was impressed by his English here. You can tell he isn’t just reading off his cue cards but actually knows what he’s saying by the way he self-corrects.]

[0:03:00(3:30)~0:05:05] Let Rang eat!

[0:05:10~0:08:04] Re: Color of clothing

Ah! There were a ton of comments about clothing color as well. Uh...I also read a lot of comments where you all were analyzing various things. And, well, a certain amount of it was really accurate...I was really thankful and also fascinated to see that it seemed like you all picked up on some of the things I had put thought into. For example, in the early part of the show when I appeared in red clothes, in a suit, of course there was also the fact that I was making an effort to exude the feeling of a villain, but the other piece that I had been thinking of was that, because there were a ton of scenes in the forest, in the forest on the island, I wanted a color that contrasted with green, so I looked for that sort of complementary color. 

Uh...so, for the case of Forest of the Starved, as with wearing red in the forest in the early episodes, I intentionally wore camel colored clothes and such. Uh...and because it was running, because a lot of the scenes in the Forest of the Starved were of us running, for visual purposes, the director proposed that we wear long clothes, so I wore a long trench coat and such. Also, for scenes that involved a lot of CG, we also, from a technical standpoint, for those bits with hyung...we wore a lot of colors excluding blue and green.   

Also, what else is there? Ah! The white clothes. There weren’t many scenes where I wore white clothing, but....very simply, in scenes where I bled (chuckling) so that the blood was easily visible...I wore a white shirt and such. One of the comments I read that really stuck with me was, ‘learned...learned pervert’ (laughing). That I was a learned person. I also had input here, and my stylist team also had the same thought, so....(very quietly) I was called a ‘learned pervert.’ Yes. 

Also...That’s right. A lot of what you all thought was really spot on. So I was also really fascinated and I thought, ‘Wah~ They even notice those sorts of things, I have to prepare even more diligently in the future,’ and for me, personally...from my standpoint as Kim Beom, I think this was the most costume fittings I’ve ever done. I also did a lot of test filming during the fittings. A JDG hyung who I’m close with and who is a photographer did a lot of test filming for me and really helped me a lot in the process of making Lee Rang. Oh, and also, in the process of doing tests for Lee Rang, perhaps because I took a liking to his image, I changed my profile picture for the first time in 10 years. I also changed my signature papers. It’s now Lee Rang, it’s Lee Rang’s image. I want to hurry up and provide you all with signatures too (laughs). Is this how I’m supposed to do this? I don’t know... (chuckles) 

[0:08:05~0:09:12] Re: Movements & gestures 

Ah, and also about movements and gestures and such...you talked especially a lot about things like me sleeping curled into a ball that got broadcast not too long ago. I saw a picture of me curled up asleep put next to an image of a fox sleeping, like this. Yes, that’s correct. From the very beginning I talked about wanting to give off the image of a fox, of a baby fox [glances to his staff] What? Show them? (chuckles) Like this, (does the gesture) sort of curled up sleeping. Foxes all sleep curled up, it turns out. So, there was an image of me curled up sleeping and, it should show up in the final episode, but there’s an image of me sitting curled into myself as well. When I’m sitting curled into a ball, even down to my toes I’m sort of, like this (does the gesture). Sitting like this was also something I did in order to give the impression of a fox. 

Aside from that, in the action sequences as well, if you look closely you can see that while people swing their fists like this, we made gestures, actions, like raking our claws. I think those sorts of things helped to make the character of Lee Rang, and also the gumiho, the other gumihos, so I was also really pleased while doing it. Yes. And I was even more thankful that the viewers picked up on that. 

[0:09:17~0:11:00] Re: Ad libs

The ad libs...for the ad libs as well, many people are asking just how much is ad libbed, especially since Yeon-ie hyung [Lee Dong Wook] is extremely good at ad libs and does them a lot. If you watch the behind the scenes videos and such, you can see the actors acting opposite him being caught off guard a lot. Hyung’s ad libs looked really cool to me, so I actually tried to emulate him a lot, but for that, it’s not possible with just your average [comedic/dramatic] sense. It’s the sense of someone who’s over a thousand years old, so one ad lib I made with the sense of a 600 year old was...there was one that was broadcast not long ago: “I’m warning you~~.” ‘I’m warning you~’ is an ad lib (laughs). 

The original line was...what was the original line again? (checks his cue cards) Ah, well, it was a line to the effect of, ‘don’t make me laugh’ or something like that, but seeing hyung saying ‘I’m warning you,’ I had the thought that it would be good if I teased him, so I was like, ‘I’m warning you~~’ as an ad lib. Also, in the café scene where we met after I returned from nearly dying, the drink hyung gave me was...there was a multi-colored drink, and for that, originally in the script it just said, ‘It’s tasty right? Have some, it’s tasty,’ or something like that, but hyung saying, ‘Have some, it’s rainbow flavored,’ was also hyung’s ad lib. And well, it didn’t appear in the broadcast, but I called it unicorn flavored. I think it was cut from the broadcast because it would have left people wondering ‘has he tried eating unicorn before?’ 

Those sorts of things...I also really learned a lot, I think, while doing them, such as hyung’s ease and whatnot. I was really jealous and he looked really cool. It came up in our lines too, but hyung always looked like he was shining brightly; he looked really cool.  

 [0:11:00~0:12:31] Re: Hyung Lee Dong Wook

To tell you more about hyung, hyung is...while being extremely sensitive, he’s the type to look after the other party in a brusk manner. For me personally, when I was studying and making Lee Rang’s character, I don’t think it would have been possible without hyung’s help. At first, I also...for the first time in a while I wore the clothes of another character and stood before the camera, and until that point I really had a lot of concerns and worries, but hyung gave me advice and really cheered me on a lot from the standpoint of an actor who has walked this path a little farther than me. So he was really a great help, and a source of strength, and whenever we were on set and there was something I didn’t know, I’d go ask hyung. Also, when I was agonizing over something, hyung would come over to me first and ask me if he could help, he was like that. 

And aside from that, the director, and the writer...Actually, Lee Rang’s tails have never appeared on screen, but in any case, Lee Rang should also have nine tails, right? There are nine. I have nine tails, but one of those was given to me by hyung. And one by the director, and one by the writer, and many others besides. Because they gave me tails, I was able to become a gumiho with nine tails, that’s the feeling I get. Yes.

[0:13:06~0:14:03] Re: Lee Rang’s Necklace

Ah! That’s right. There were also people who were curious about this necklace, wondering if this...if this wasn’t symbolic of something. In fact, in the beginning I had also thought that far. I thought of using it to express Lee Rang’s signature or something, so at first when he transformed I had gotten rid of it. Like when I appeared with glasses on (leans forward to show off the necklace better) this. It’s this necklace, but for my first transformation when I appeared with glasses, or...at those times I purposefully removed the necklace, but later on when I, when I transformed into hyung, if I wasn’t wearing it....if I was wearing it! I worried that you all would notice. You’re all extremely observant. Like gumihos. So in the end I decided to just leave this as fashion. 

[Note: This doesn’t fully make sense to me in terms of wearing it or not, but I double-checked and I translated everything exactly as he said it.]

[0:14:02~0:14:53] Re: Transformations

And since we’re on the subject of transformations, I’m always being found out and saying, ‘Ah that damn dress code...’ and such, but, everyone, I’m not being found out. Lee Rang isn’t so foolish and incompetent. Conversely, in order to mess with people more, he’s intentionally giving them a hint. So he’s being like... ‘Even if I do this will they not notice? Will they not notice?’ by intentionally giving them a hint with his shoes. And so, for Ji Ah, and for Sajang, that was me intentionally giving them a hint, and in fact wanting them to realize. While being like ‘if you figure this out then I’ll have to mess with you even more,’ I’d then mess with them more. And so, conversely, when I transformed into hyung to fool Sajang, I fooled him perfectly didn’t I? I’m not such an incompetent person as that. 

[0:14:55~0:16:05] Re: Romance 

There are many people who are extremely curious about Lee Rang’s romance as well, but actually, romance [for Rang] didn’t appear in our Tale of the Nine Tailed. Because his love for hyung is so great. And his love for Yoo Ri was also somewhat different from the love between a man and a woman. It was a familial love, and also a love that came from wanting to fill the void, it was that sort of love. Uh....I saw someone say something like this. Mm...when Yeon-ie hyung falls in love it’s to this extent, but if Rang-ie, who is a rule-breaker, who ignores all the rules, were to fall in love, the earth would probably have been destroyed. Or at the very least, Korea would have been destroyed. haha Someone said that, but I think that probably would have been the case. If he had directed his love not at his hyung but at a woman, because Rang-ie isn’t afraid of his hyung, or the afterlife, or even hell, I feel like he would have had that sort of a [world-ending] romance. 

[0:16:48~0:17:37] Re: Lee Rang’s fortune (wealth)

[0:17:38~0:18:19] [Reading and responding briefly to live comments]

[0:18:32~0:19:24] Q: Would Lee Rang have dreamed of being either a full fox or a full human?

Ah...this was a very sad question. [Rang is] a half-human, half-supernatural, but would he have dreamed of being a full gumiho, would he have dreamed of being a full human? There was talk to that effect. Uh...I think Rang-ie wouldn’t have wanted to be either. On the supernatural side as well, because he’s a half-supernatural...I don’t imagine he’d have been welcomed, and among humans, because he has supernatural blood, we also saw him being mistreated a lot. But then, amongst all of that, my one and only source of support was my hyung. And I think that’s why [Rang] was so obsessed with his hyung. I think he probably wouldn’t have wanted to belong to either side. Because he’s that sort of free spirit. Yes, that’s what I think. 

[0:19:30~0:19:58] Re: Lee Rang’s Favorite Food

Q: If Lee Rang had a favorite food like Lee Yeon’s mint chocolate, what would it be?

His favorite food is, you all may already know this, but it’s alcohol. Rang was always together with alcohol, and he was a character who goes well with alcohol. Somehow...it was like how lonely people reach for alcohol. I think it would have been that sort of feeling. It always kept him company, in place of his hyung (chuckles). That sort of, that sort of...his favorite food is alcohol, yes. 

[0:20:02~0:20:50] Re: Favorite fan comments/Not a baby 

[0:21:00~0:21:46] Q: Spicy fox [i.e. fox with an attitude/a bite] vs. baby fox?

[0:21:47~0:0:22:39] Q: The most dangerous gumiho or the most endangered gumiho?

[0:22:45~0:23:34] Q: Favorite Lee Rang look/style?

[0:23:41~0:25:10] Q: Good vs Evil?

Ah, and, there was also a question about what percent of good versus evil exists inside of me, but...I also really thought hard about it when I received this question. Rang-ie was a very kind child when he was young, who couldn’t even pick a flower...he was a kind child who couldn’t even kill a bug, but then, that sort of...should I call it societal evil? Due to some misunderstandings and...painful times, he gradually begins to ‘live devoting himself to evil,’ there’s that expression, in Korea. I think all of that evil would have seeped into him. So while at first he would have been 80-90% good, even so...mm~ at 51 to 49%, wouldn’t 51% of him be good? That slight bit that he tries not to lose. Because evil, because the side of evil kept pulling at me, whether that be Imoogi, or Sajang, unavoidably evil would have pulled at me, but...I get the sense that Rang-ie, to the very end, wouldn’t have given up the good in him...Nn? [Staff catches his eye] Yes, so that’s why it’s (???)* hehehe Oh? (???)* Sorry. Hahaha Ah, sorry. I just startled myself as well. [Pointing at his staff] Your face has turned red!

[Note: The expression he uses for ‘to the end’ here could either be used literally or figuratively. So obviously he accidentally gave a huge spoiler, but if he - or rather, his staff - hadn’t reacted so much it might have just been glossed over. Also, I think he’s using terms associated with a video game here which is why I’m having trouble parsing the blanks.]

[0:25:12~0:26:56] Kim Beom reminisces about his time with TotNT

[0:27:05~0:27:43] Re: Stickers

Ah! There was also talk about the stickers. Hahaha Uh...for the stickers as well, of course, in the script it was simply expressed as, ‘Rang, who is asleep covered in stickers,’ but actually, what stickers got stuck where was something that I decided myself. So I tried sticking a lightning bolt to my forehead, and, I’m not sure if it was visible in the broadcast, but the earring (the star on his ear) was a reference to the character So Yi Jeong that I played back in the day [Note: this is a reference to his character in Boys Over Flowers (2009)]. Well, I’m the type to overthink things like that, so hehe. I think a lot. 

[0:27:45~0:28:56] Re: Soo Oh

[0:29:12~0:30:00] Q: Are you more of an older or younger brother type?

For that question...whether that question was a question for Kim Beom or for Lee Rang, I actually wasn’t sure, but someone asked, ‘Are you someone who is suited to being an older brother or someone who is suited to being a younger brother?’ Uh....to answer as Rang, Rang is of course more suited to being a younger brother, it fits his natural tendencies. That Kim Beom guy,* I mean, Kim Beom is... (chuckling under his breath) ‘that Kim Beom guy’ what am I saying? Kim Beom is...more suited to being an older brother, he has that aptitude, that inclination I think. 

[*Note: When said this I burst out laughing. The literal expression is, ‘that chingu (friend) called Kim Beom,’ and it’s just not a way that you would ever refer to yourself. He said he was somewhere in between Lee Rang and Kim Beom, and it really feels like that here haha]

[0:30:12~0:31:10] Re: Nicknames

And, well....If Lee Rang, if there is a nickname that Rang-ie likes or a nickname that remained with him [what would that be]? A whole lot of people also wrote to me with that question. The overseas fans have also been calling me ‘baby fox’ (said in English), and that was really amusing. Uh...also, well, ‘baby fox’ (in Korean), and things like ***** [Note: he censored himself here so I’m not actually sure what he said other than that it’s rude haha], I really had a lot of fun seeing them. Like, these people who, if I met them in real life, would say, ‘Spare me!’ and run away were treating me like a baby... (nodding to himself). It was funny (chuckles). 

[Reading the chat] People keep commenting ‘baby fox’ (in English) hahaha

And so I also, later on....Somehow, at first I thought, ‘Huh?’, but then later on it was something that really made me feel good...(nodding) It was funny. (chuckles)

[0:33:30~0:33:57] Re: Mountain God Lee Rang?

Q: If Lee Rang ever became a mountain god, what sort of world would he have created?

I probably would have made a wonderland for hyung, right? For hyung’s sake alone. So that hyung could enjoy himself, I would have tried making this and that....to make hyung smile once. I feel like that’s what I would have done, and because of that, because [Rang is] that sort of simple guy, he probably wouldn’t have become a mountain god, right? I’m good being a mountain god’s younger brother...

[0:33:58~0:34:54] Re: Rang’s name

Also, Ah~ things related to Rang’s name, too. To my knowledge, the name ‘Rang’ was bestowed by his hyung. So originally he was a half-human, half-supernatural who didn’t even have a name, who was also abandoned by his family. He had been lonely like that, so it was probably hyung who gave it to him. The name ‘Rang’ means ‘shining.’ Most likely, at that time, wouldn’t he have really cried a whole lot? From happiness. Seeing as he continued using the name Rang, seeing as he continued using it for 600 years. If he had disliked it, he probably would have changed it, so he really took a liking to it. It was probably a happy time where he thought, ‘Now I too have a name~’ That’s right. 

[0:35:11~0:36:39] Re: Spin-off

Ah! And also, there was the spin-off to talk about, right? In another world, in a slightly wider world, uh...there was a spin-off telling my story, and to be honest it was an extremely new attempt, and I also, at first, I approached it as an answer and a gift in response to all of the love that so many people had sent. Uh...thanks to that, I think it was nice that I was able to show you Lee Rang from another point of view, and I actually worried about it a great deal. 

Uh...Rather than our existing team, another spin-off team did the filming for us, and so I worried a lot. Because it wasn’t our team. But, they very diligently, and well...shot it for us. And for me, because many people supported us, thankfully, compared to what I had been worried about, I think it worked out well. Actually, when I was really at the end of my rope from worrying so much, I called hyung [Lee Dong Wook] from set, from the spin-off set, to say that I was worried, and I also met up with him in person, and the director [Kang Shin Ho], I told him I was worried. In the off chance that the fans of the Tale of the Nine Tailed main series might hate it, I was really very worried. But hyung really comforted me a lot, and told me it was cool, so that made me feel really good. 

[0:36:41~0:37:28] Re: Yoo Ri (Kim Yong Ji)

Also...I have to talk about Yoo Ri too, don’t I? Our Yoo Ri. Our Yoo Ri...from the very first time I met her she seemed like Yoo Ri. She was really really like a gumiho, like a fox. Like someone of mixed race. In reality, too, we met up recently and were eating together when she told me this. People from Russia are actually sending her DMs, she said. Asking if she’s really a mixed-blood Russian. Hearing that was so funny that I remember we both burst out laughing. But to that extent Yoo Ri [Kim Yong Ji] is that much like Yoo Ri, even when you see her in real life. And also, because she became such a perfect Yoo Ri when we were working, from the very beginning she was very reliable to film with, and I think I was also really able to immerse myself while filming. 

[0:37:29~0:38:01] Re: Shin Joo (Hwang Hee)

And also, Shin Joo hyung, too. Actually...I didn’t have that many scenes in common with Shin Joo, but we became so close on set that later on - ah! Actually it’ll probably appear in tomorrow’s episode. Me and hyung [Hwang Hee] (catches the staff’s eye, raises his eyebrows, and then censors himself).....have a scene together, and you’ll probably get to see a very different Lee Rang, a very cheerful, uh...Lee Rang will appear, so I hope you enjoy watching it. 

[0:38:31~0:40:00] Re: CG

Ah, and also, we can’t not talk about the CG. Because, in a sense, it was one of the biggest aspects of our genre, from the first time we started filming we did a whole lot of tests. I think, in any case, we worried that those who see a lot of (computer graphics? - sorry, I’m actually unsure of this word) would feel that something was off, so we tried once using actual contact lenses, and also tried using actual (physical) tails. And for things like the Imoogi special effects makeup, it was a combination of makeup and CG that came to be through the help of truly a lot of people. My eye, and also hyung’s tails, and our abilities, Imoogi’s skin. I’d like to take the opportunity here to thank everyone involved once again. For giving me such a cool eye. I also, while watching the broadcast, was like, ‘Wah!’ 

Hm... also, I think my only having one eye that changed was probably the director’s idea. Because I’m a half-blood, in any case, his opinion was that it would be nice if only one eye changed, so I was able to have a really cool eye (leans close to the screen with a wild Lee Rang smile and then sits back chucking). It would be nice if it changed, but I’m unable to change my eye by myself (chuckles).

[0:40:05~0:42:00] Re: Stunts/action sequences

And our stunt team, our action team as well. We can’t not talk about them. I’m reminded of the first time, the times we went to action school to practice martial arts. From when we first began action practice, I would coordinate the timing with hyung [Lee Dong Wook] and we would go and practice together. So from the beginning, until we had created the action that would suit our characters, we went several several times for several hours at a time to practice. And then on set, they created things far beyond what we had practiced for us, so our action team really worked very hard as well, and the agwi and such that you saw...for many of those, our staff played all those roles for us. They really had it extremely hard, uh...yes. The (???) director, the (???)* director, and many stunt and action hyungs, all worked very hard. Hyung [Lee Dong Wook] also talked about this during our press conference, but they really worked very hard. On hot days, in the Forest of the Starved, they nearly....and they gave a very impassioned performance, so I was also able to immerse myself so the filming went well.

Mm....To be honest, I’m the type who really likes action, but the gumiho action this time, uh... (nods to himself). There were many stunts that appeared that were at a level beyond what I could have imagined, so while I enjoyed doing them, there were aspects that were difficult too, but when I saw how I appeared in the broadcast, I was very satisfied, and...because [the fans] really liked our sibling action scenes, it made me feel good. 

[*Note: Sorry, because he’s talking half under his breath here I’m actually having trouble making out which directors he’s referring to.]

[0:42:05~0:43:38] Re: Crying scenes

You asked me if having so many crying scenes wasn’t taxing, but...I know, right? More than I thought, more than the Rang that I had originally pictured, [he] was actually quite a crybaby. There were many more crying scenes than I had thought there would be, and depending on how you look at it, it feels like maybe I cried nearly as much as Ji Ah....I get the sense that because [Rang] is a guy who carries a lot of pain and sadness, he had a lot of tears. And also, because I had to cry in a way that was Rang-like, at first I was like, ‘How should I cry? In what manner do I have to shed tears?’ but once the camera started filming...I felt like they were Rang’s own emotions, so. Yes. 

If I think of hyung [Lee Dong Wook], actually, even now I get really choked up. So, when I, myself, Kim Beom, had a photo shoot recently, the topic of hyung came up in the course of the interview and I froze for a second because I nearly started crying, that also happened...

And then on set when I gave my final thoughts upon wrapping filming, I still somehow had many of Rang’s emotions left over, so I...seeing me crying, hyung said, ‘Are you going through puberty?’ hahaha, I have memory of him saying things like that to make me laugh as well. 

[Note: Kim Beom is referring to his photoshoot and interview with Elle Korea. I translated a good bit of it here.]

[0:43:40~0:45:06] Q: A character you’d like to try transforming into?

Also...I, well, hyung also transformed once, but for me because it’s one of my core talents, and because gumihos are the sort of character to do that, I received the question of whether there isn’t a character I wouldn’t like to try transforming into other than the ones that appeared in the drama. Honestly, if I was Lee Rang, I probably would have transformed into Ji Ah and tried to break her [and hyung] apart. Mm....I would have really hated transforming into Ji Ah but, uh...in order to separate her from hyung, and also, out of jealousy, due to his wish that [his hyung] wouldn’t fall in love with her again, out of love for his brother, he would have transformed into Ji Ah...isn’t that originally what gumihos are like?

However, because in that case then Ji Ah [Jo Bo Ah] will have to act that out again, probably (chuckles)...next time, if there’s ever an opportunity, I’ll transform into Ji Ah and... (starts making finger hearts without finishing his sentence) yes. I would like to show that to you all. 

[Reading the live chat] Right? People are asking me if I’m a genius. If it was Lee Rang, Lee Rang should have to transformed into Ji Ah, right? I also honestly just surprised myself by thinking of it just now. 

[0:45:14~0:46:04 ] Thoughts before the final episode

[0:46:24~0:47:28] Re: Charades with Imoogi (Lee Tae Ri)

[0:47:30~0:48:15] Re: Director Kang Shin Hyo

[0:49:26~0:50:21] Q: Memorable Lines & Scenes

Also...about the lines. Memorable lines or memorable scenes, you’re asking a lot about these sorts of things, but I truly haven’t forgotten a single scene I was in; I remember all of them. Because the script, and the characters, and the scenarios...and the scenes were all made so so well. 

Actually...well, at the beginning, when you see me fighting, bickering, with hyung, and I say ‘Didn’t you miss me?’ this line, and also...that sort of line: ‘I’m dying of anticipation.’ There were these sorts of lines as well. Uh...also, my lines that I say to Yoo Ri too. Like...‘Why would you shed tears because of me? Don’t make your life into a melodrama.’ There were these sorts of lines as well. 

[0:50:24~0:51:52] Re: Azaleas

[0:51:54~0:52:26] Re: Gumiho teleportation 

[0:52:27~0:54:00] Re: Rang’s throwing axes

[0:54:32~0:55:11] Re: Dokdo shrimp

[0:55:13~0:55:59] Q: Memorable filming location?

[0:56:00~0:5?:??] Re: Last episodes

[0:56:45~0:57:10] Q: Do you watch the original broadcast?

[0:57:12~End] Closing remarks

[themadauthorshatter]

Never!Tedros Headcanons Part 3!

There will be more Tagatha and Tophie in this one, though more Tagatha than Tophie because come on

So, like I said before, Tedros got suspicious of his supposed true love has more evils following her than before, which leads to him wanting to train away from her for a little bit.

He promised to be her prince, and a solid MAYBE on the ball; he's had bad experiences with ballroom get togethers. She accepted the maybe as a yes anyway.

He gets so damn annoyed when she starts failing the pre-Trial challenges.

When he asks why she keeps failing, another lie is born at Sophie's side when she says that she did learn everything and will get better.

She lies more and creates more evils, which really starts rubbing Tedros the wrong way because they start aggressively rubbing against his legs and arms and are slightly louder than Sophie because they purr and sort of talk-meow to him.

When she panics when Hester threatens her and Tedros, but Tedros is more concerned about the evils.

He follows Agatha more, despite Sophie's warning that she's still a little sick, and even asks if he can hold her, because he's about to snap.

She asks if he's okay and why he's so scared. He doesn't answer.

Sophie tries to get a kiss out of him before the Trial like before, but he asks her if she really loves him. Sophie's obviously confused, but Tedros asks again if Sophie is telling the truth about loving him, that if she's honest with him, he'll finally explain why he goes to both schools. She says yes and goes in for a kiss. Even with Agatha as a cockroach on her shoulder, Tedros backs away when a new evil is born. She tries to get him to come back, but he tells her that they'll talk again just before the Trial.

Agatha goes to class to turn in her work to see Tedros being, verbally, calmed by Dovey. Just as she nears Dovey's desk, Tedros quickly walks out if the room.

"What was that about?"

"Just some stress before the Trial. I've never seen the poor boy so flustered."

"If he's that scared, why can't you take him out so he doesn't have to compete?"

"He made his friends a promise, Agatha. And I offered to, but he told me he needed to be in the woods tonight, no matter what."

"But what if he gets hurt? Didn't you see him? He CAN'T compete in the Trial!"

Cue Dovey looked at Agatha with serious "Hold up" eyes. "He... He really didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"Well... He spoke so fondly of you, I thought he'd told you."

Agatha admits she had no clue what Dovey's talking about, and Dovey excuses her.

Before the Trial, Tedros is a trembling mess and almost misses when Sophie talks to him. He begs her to stay with him during the Trial, to promise she'll be waiting for him when he goes in the woods. She does very hastily because she's immediately pulled into the forest.

When it's his turn, before Hester, he charges in and attacks anything and anyone that moves in the woods, Evers, Nevers, and woodland creatures alike, consequences be damned.

Even when Chaddick tries to calm him down, Tedros sees Anadil's, Ravan's, and Vex's evils, and yells for Chaddick to get away from him and runs to look for Sophie.

When Tedros and Hester clash, he's lost his sword and instead fights with a branch, which he uses to beat the demon and Hester to Hell and high water. THIS IS AN UGLY FIGHT, BTW, AND HE ONLY GETS THE UPPER HAND WHEN SHE GETS CARELESS. He collapses from the exhaustion and despair sorrow that he lost control of himself and is too busy having a mental and emotional meltdown about it to see a weak demon arm go in for a stab.

Agatha knocks it away and saves him before comforting him, even though he tells her she shouldn't be in the woods or near him because he could hurt her.

He sees hot pink evils(the evils to him have the same color as people's fingerglows) and un-disguises Sophie.

He yells at her for lying and breaking her promise, especially after he trusted her, which he kicks himself for because he admits he knew he shouldn't have because what everyone said was true, that she was a witch and a liar, and, as the two final blows, with his hands grasping his hair and his body curling inward as he struggles to stand, he screams that he was right, that the School Master didn't make a miatake, that Agatha and Sophie are in the right schools, and that Sophie belongs in both the School for Evil's Doom Room and, more extremely, the bottomless pit of Hell, just like he does, because he knows she killed the Beast.

After this he passes out and the two girls stare at each other before Agatha leaves, just as the students see what's happened, Tristan keeping Tedros calm with hair ruffles as the prince hyperventilates on the grass.

He's not really allowed to attend the School for Evil for a little while, just in case he snaps again.

He's back to silence and staring, but he now has to write on a notepad provided by Chaddick and Tristan.

They are the only ones he WANTS to see. Neither know his talent.

Beatrix tries to pay a visit, but decides it's best to leave him be after she slipped him a note and then heard him screaming.

Agatha just doesn't ask to visit him because everything he said still has her shaken and stirred.

Chaddick and Tristan deliver him his homework, until he asks for Agatha to do it, so they can catch up on their work.

Lie. He just wants to see her.

She visits anyway, and asks if everything he said was true. He nods.

She then tells him Dovey brought up how close she thought they were, considering how he 'slept' in her room for a couple nights and was found asleep outside her door after sleepwalking, and asks why he goes to both schools, even though he's supppsed to be a Never. Tedros writes that he can SEE the evil in others, describing them as monsters that follow people and coax them into doing worse evils. He didn't see any surrounding Agatha during orientation, though does note the small evils she has are lies she told in oreder to help Sophie, which explains why they're so small compared to Sophie, who has larger evils like pride and murder; Agatha's evils are the size of medium sized rats while Sophie's are about the size of tigers or bears. He even explains that he's snapped before and it led to him killing a maid.

The whole "going to both schools" is an accommodation made for him for that reason; Evers just don't have that much evil in them, none that's really noticeable for him.

Agatha realizes that his talent is the reason for his silence and staring, and why he follows her and other Evers around.

Tedros tries to hold her hand, but falters and instead holds his knees to his chest, saying without looking at her, "Sorry I can't get you two home, wherever it is. If you do find a way, though, just go and take that witch with you. Nobody wants either of you now. I can make do with my mates."

Agatha only hugs him and tells him that she's not going anywhere because she knows HE DOES want her around; it's either she stays or he's stuck following Evergirls to cool his head.

Tedros laughs bitterly that he's in the right school, considering he's not much of a prince or doing much to help either of the girls. Agatha just tells him, "Shut up, you creep." Only it's said in a really sweet way.

He gets a real Ever uniform, but still wears his black coat and pants because, again, who's stopping him?

The Nevers call him a traitor, but he unsheathes his sword and scares them away.

Hopes that Hort, Ravan, and Vex are okay.

It ABSOLUTELY has to do with the snake he originally put in Sophie's bed that moved to Hester's.

It may also have to do with the uniforms and dead birds he stapled to ceiling of his room in Evil.

It's not that he hates his roommates and fellow Nevers in general, he just targets people who get on his back and won't get off.

Dot has never been one of these people. After putting cockroaches in Hester's, Anadil's, and Sophie's uniforms, he left Dot a few books, one detailing the history of Nottingham, one with really good chocolate recipes, and one titled, 'Cruelty and Kindness: How To Be Evil Without Being Evil.' He also left a note reading, 'Sorry for the noise. I couldn't help myself!😈' and a bar of chocolate that had candy embedded in it, aome being peanut butter, and a jelly center.

Has pranked Chaddick and Tristan by not walking behind them when they think he's following them and by simply smiling as he walks in between them. He doesn't do anything, he just smiles amd they think he's about to do something; it's the thought that counts.

He's thought about pranking Agatha, but instead let her witness his greatest prank yet:

He took all the Evers' and Nevers' shoes and tied them or placed them in high up places, even his own and Agatha's so no one could get blamed for it. Well, everyone's shoes except Sophie's. He spent an hour laughing his ass off in the boy's Groom Room when he remembered the glares students from both schools gave Sophie; he just put Dot's under her bed next to her snack stash.

He can be an asshole when he wants to be.

Chaddick tried getting him back with a bucket of water held up by a cracked open door, but Tedros stared at him all day, trying to figure out why Chaddick kept making sure he was infront of him.

Hates Beatrix's pet rabbit. He literally got caught glaring by Chaddick and admitted the wanted to boil the damn thing.

His animal companion/henchman was a mountain lion

"The son of a lion was a true lone wolf, one a heart that never forgave and a mind that never forgot. Good in his looks and kindness through distance, but Evil in his eyes and silence, in the footsteps that no one seened to hear, even when he was close enough to strike like death in the night."