#they cancelled classes constantly with out telling me at all

[thetangibleghost]

I'm gonna turn into a pumpkin.

[jjkbambi]

frat flu luigi mangione x virgin!reader 18+

summary!!! (smut inspired by this request) you’re set to interview frat president luigi mangione for the penn newsletter!

note: fratboy!luigi but not reallyyyy associated to that cheating demon storyline. written as a standalone but could be seen as a prequel if you squint. unedited but happy new years

warnings: long fic cuz we need a reason to be fuckin, sad bc luigi’s sad, comfort, an attempt at fluff, and of course smut, dubcon (he grinds on you while you’re sleeping), so dry humping, p in dis v (VIRGINNN)

luigi mangione, as described by his fraternity brothers: “cool,” “mega smart,” and “totally chill.” all phrases you could blindly draw from a hat to describe a stranger walking down the street.

surely, this couldn’t be your debut in penn today. a spotlight on the brightest mind on campus, phi kappa psi fraternity president luigi mangione. top of his class at a mysterious luxury private high school, started a hash brown business at sixteen, and, according to his linkedin, volunteers at local libraries, elderly homes, and animal shelters during breaks back home. he’s got a first aid/cpr certification, a bartending license, and a squeaky clean record.

“he doesn’t even complain on yelp,” you groan.

your friend, lacy, sits in the drivers seat, shaking her head. “maybe he’s just nice.”

you shoot a glare at her.

she raises her hands, defensive. “i’ve only heard good things!”

“oh, well, if he was really so nice, he wouldn’t have canceled on me a hundred and one times.” as if he’d heard you, your phone pings—his name flashing on the screen.

from luigi Hey pretty! Something came up today. So sorry. Can I see you another time?

“one hundred and two,” you declare, showing her your phone screen. at this point, it felt less like inconvenience and more like cruelty. his constant rejections, delayed responses, and last-minute reschedules were a relentless reminder of your looming failure to finish the piece on the phi kappa psi house. journalism club was going to fucking kill you.

“y/n, he literally could not have been nicer.” she finally puts the car into park. the both of you look outside.

frustration had been simmering for weeks, growing with every missed promise. almost two months ago, he’d smiled big and earnest, assuring you he’d meet for the interview—yet here you were, still waiting. the distance between you two seemed to stretch with every passing day, and you couldn’t summon the energy to pretend you still cared for niceties.

you’re outside his fraternity house, calling him, he surprises you by answering almost immediately, his voice low and hoarse, like he’s just woken up. “hello?”

“hi, it’s y/n.”

“oh,” he says, tone dipping as he cleared his throat. “hey, how are you?”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt. “i just wanted to talk—”

“yeah, i know ‘m sorry,” he tells you, sincerity to be debated. “i’ve just been a bit all over the place these past few weeks.”

lacy mouths, “im staying in the car.”

nodding, you hop out, a familiar sense of anticipation lingering. it’s not your first time at the fraternity house, but each visit feels different. the mansion, though grand, has a worn charm—earth-toned walls and overgrown grass, with boys constantly darting across the yard. trash cans overflow with aluminum cans, remnants of the never-ending chaos.

“no, i get it, i do. i, you know, am busy all the time.”

“oh, i’m sure,” he says. “are you free next weekend?”

you didn’t even have to check your schedule to know you were free. but you were already here. “well, actually, i just, um…” you feel a bit of your confidence deflating as you trespass their yard. your face flushes and you suddenly feel the eyes of the other brothers staring at your silhouette like curious dogs, unsure of whether to bark or bite. “i was just passing by the neighborhood, i was wondering if i could come over now?”

he yawns. “what? you mean right now?”

“is that alright?”

“how far away are you?”

“yeah, uh, i’m outside your front door.”

“oh?” he says, clearly taken off-guard. the embarrassment finally settles in. what the hell were you doing?

“you know what, never mind. i’m so sorry,” you flush, spinning on your heel and rushing down the steps, avoiding eye contact with the other guys.

you’re not sure if it’s your heart stopping or the phone call ending, but it’s in that moment that the blackwood door opens. you turn around, and the brown-haired boy steps through, looking disheveled, with dark bags under his eyes as if he hasn’t slept. though, despite that, he’s in gray sweatpants and a long sleeved black compression shirt.

“y/n, come on in,” luigi says, his voice booming, almost too loud for the quiet pennsylvania street. he glances toward the team of players in the front yard, bringing attention to you all over again. “this is the journalist for the penn.”

you shuffle up the steps again. “it’s called penn daily.”

“right,” he nods, eyes searching your body up and down. “you want a jacket?”

you’re in leggings and a tank top. you’re shivering. “no, no, i like the cold.”

the brown-haired boy shakes his head, grabbing one off the coat rack anyway and tossing it over to you.

“you’ll like the jacket even better.”

as he guides you through the house, the weight of the silence surrounds you. you’ve only ever seen the place during parties—neon LED lights casting strange shadows, tables covered in empty Solo cups and suspicious piles of random powders. it always felt like a place of unrecognizable chaos, where everyone was too busy to think about much else but the next round of shots or whatever game they were playing. but today, in the quiet of the late morning, the house feels different. the lights aren’t flashing, the music isn’t blasting, and there’s no throng of people rushing around. it feels oddly intimate, even though it’s still just as cluttered as always.

“is this what it looks like clean?” you ask, only half-joking.

“be nice,” luigi barks, tone plain as he rolled his eyes in faux annoyance. “we had a long night yesterday,” he gestures to the crowds of twentysomethings outside, one group cleaning off the mountain of soda and beer cans off the plastic gray tables, the other playing ping pong. “another long night ahead. you should come.”

the invitation doesn’t sway you, you’re distracted by his face. though his curly hair is neatly cut, and his chocolate brown eyes hold a quiet, dark intensity. his tall frame fills up the room, the way he stands commanding attention without trying. his features are sharp, framed by thick eyebrows, and his smile is small, barely there, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. he offers it to you as if it’s expected. there’s an underlying feeling you can’t shake. it’s like you can tell it’s forced. you’ve seen enough of him in passing (and in stalking) to know this isn’t the usual “luigi” you’re used to seeing at parties or around campus.

you bite the inside of your cheek. “you know, if today’s a bad day, you don’t have to—”

“no, babe, it’s fine,” he says, the term rolling off his tongue like it’s second nature.

in the short time you’ve known him, you’ve picked up on his knack for nicknames and gathered you probably shouldn’t be flattered—all the boys in this frat were entirely too flirty.

he pushes the door to his bedroom open, stepping aside to let you in. “shouldn’t take too long, right?”

“sure,” you lie as you slip past him, fingers brushing over the notepad tucked in your back pocket, your mind racing with questions you’re suddenly too aware of.

“well then, it’s no rush,” he says.

quickly, you notice the collection of allergy medication at his desk. a heinous amount of nyquil, half-empty bottles scattered among crumpled tissues and unopened water bottles. it’s almost comical, the way his organized chaos betrays the “untouchable golden boy” image you’d pieced together. his desk, once probably neat and deliberate, now looks like the scene of a losing battle against the flu. curious, you ask, “bad fever?”

luigi laughs dryly. “something bad, that’s for sure.”

you feel yourself sink at the admission. instinctively, you reach up to feel his forehead, your fingers hovering just shy of his skin. it’s a simple gesture, something you wouldn’t think twice about doing for one of your roommates, but as soon as your hand makes contact, he stiffens, his body recoiling ever so slightly. the movement is subtle but enough to make you hesitate, pulling your hand back as his lashes flicker up to meet yours.

“jesus christ,” you gasp. “you’re burning up.”

luigi doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze lingering on you just a moment too long, his eyes a little softer than usual.

“think i’ll be fine,” he says, but there’s an edge to his voice, like he’s trying to brush it off. it feels more like he’s saying it for both of you than for himself.

a pang of guilt hits you hard—a reminder of how you’d pushed for this interview while he was clearly feeling terrible. all those ridiculous, relentless messages, the nagging about deadlines while he was probably just trying to get through the day. god, you feel like an idiot.

you cup his cheeks, serious. “you should really get to bed.”

“what, and miss the privilege of being interrogated by the penn’s finest?” he teases, leaning into you. you’re struck at how warm he was, how utterly unprofessional you were coming off as, how awful it would be to pull away.

the article, you remind yourself, inching away. “if you pass out mid-question, it’s not going to make for a great article.”

“least i’ll be a shoo-in for the sympathy vote next semester,” luigi says with a wry chuckle, his tone light but laced with something deeper as he glances back up at you, almost as if testing your reaction.

“come on,” he reaches for your hand when you frown, interlocking your fingers and swaying you. he doesn’t pull you too close, something about the way he’s looking at you has you sure he’ll never give you the satisfaction, but your fingers interlock and there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the edge of his lips, smugness plain. “i couldn’t let you walk out here so fast. you know what they would say about me if they thought i let down a pretty girl like you?”

you feel your face go pink but your ego won’t let his flirting power last. his forehead was burning hotter than sauna, he probably didn’t know what was even happening. “you look like you haven’t even slept,” you say, matter-of-factly. “would you just sit down?”

“trust me, this headache’ll be gone before you can even say sto meglio con te,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

he grins as your brow furrows. “you could put that in your article. successful, speaks italian, looks like shit.”

“i didn’t mean that. i’m just worried.” ignoring the fluttering in your stomach and his persistent gaze, you turn your phone over. “i could order you some soup. there’s a really nice pho place down the road—”

“what’re you, my girlfriend?”

“mangione,” you sigh. “you’re being impossible.”

“baby,” he says, the word slipping from his lips with a teasing familiarity that catches you off guard. it pierces straight through your ego, sharp and unexpected. “i promise, ive got way more interesting things to talk about than allergies. come on, ask me.”

before you can react, another voice calls from outside, and you hear hurried footsteps approaching the door. luigi hesitates for a second, glancing at you. a younger group of fraternity brothers peeks in, looking urgent.

“hey, we’ve got a problem with the fundraising paperwork—someone made a mistake with the donations, and it needs to be fixed or we’re going to miss the deadline,” one of them explains, his voice tight with stress.

“who was in charge of that?” luigi asks, a lilt of accusation in his tone.

the younger twentysomethings look around, feigning innocence, avoiding eye contact. “whatever, it doesn’t matter,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes. “i’ll take care of it.”

he squeezes your hand before he leaves the room, saying, “stay put for me.”

so you sit on his navy blue bed, stiff and idle, your mind wandering as you wait. you text lacy and tell her you’ll catch up with her later as the constant sound of chaos fills your ears. you hear the house scrambling through the halls and luigi’s answering calls and questions, directing people, moving them out the way. the speakers for the party this weekend just got delivered, the delta 3 girls are inviting them to volunteer at their annual car wash, and there’s a leak in the basement that needs immediate attention. after what feels like hours, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. exhaustion pulls at you, and without even realizing it, you fall asleep on his bed, the rhythmic noise of his busy life buzzing around you.

“y/n,” luigi exhales as he finally re-enters the room, his exhaustion evident in every step.

he’s greeted at the sight of your body sprawled across his bed, eyes fluttered shut with his jacket blanketed over your silhouette. he’s not so sure what comes over him, but he locks the door. your peaceful slumber is a stark change from the drunk mayhem on the other side of the door, and he’s intent on keeping the peace. the bed dips under his weight as he sinks down beside you, too tired for niceties. without a word or a second’s hesitation, he pulls the jacket off you and brings your tired body closer to his.

it starts off innocent. his arms are wrapped around your stomach, your body limp against his. he cradles into the nape of your neck—and you’re so soft and you smell so good, he can’t help himself. he tells himself he won’t take it too far. starting with small, sweet kisses against the side of your neck, almost tickling you out of your unconsciousness. you sleepily squirm under his hold and he’s straining in his sweatpants before he can make sense of it.

“you’re so pretty,” luigi whispers. it would be a waste, really, to have you this close without touching you. using you.

he grinds his hips against your plump ass. he’s so fucking hard, he really can’t help it. he has to have you, but he can’t bring himself to wake you—you’d been so sweet to him earlier, doe eyes wide with concern—he figures he has to return the favor somehow, right? letting you nap in his bed feels like the least he can do.

“you’ve got no idea how often i lose my mind thinkin’ about this, about you,” he confesses. the noise outside is loud, chaotic—a world away from the quiet intensity between you. it’s too loud for anyone else to know of the secret unfolding here, in the space of his touch and the weight of his gaze.

he’s rougher now, tightening his grip on your hips as he jerks himself into you. you were so worried about him earlier. you’d want this, wouldn’t you? to help him out, make him feel better?

his defense of plausible deniability falls apart piece by piece. one of his hands stray from your hip to your clothed core, rubbing you, desperate for friction. he groans into your back. you were wet, he was sure of it, he had to make sure of it. he slips his hands down your leggings and rushes to palms your wetness. he has to make sure you’re feeling just as good as he was.

you shudder at the touch, slowly bringing yourself from rem to reality. the room is hotter than you remembered, and you almost shriek as you realize luigi’s hands had been all over you. he’s quick to put his hand over your mouth, talking in your ear, “‘m sorry baby, couldn’t resist.”

his sloppy wet kisses are hot against your neck, so frantic, so desperate, so needy, his stubble unnerving you as you squirm under his hold. you can hardly make sense of what’s happening. “luigi.” you mewl as he grinds his clothed cock into you. “what’re you doing?”

he moans at the perfect blend of innocence and surprise twined through your voice. its undeniable now — he can’t spend another second not experiencing you.

“you said you wanted to make me feel better, yeah?” luigi grunts. before you can respond, he’s slipping a finger into your wet pussy. you jolt at the wild unfamiliar storm that grasps you, trying to turn your head over to him, to look at him, to ask him what the hell had gotten into him. he kisses you when your head tilts, his free hand wrapping around your throat.

“that’s so much fuckin’ better,” he tells you, stretching your core out with another two fingers. he’s so eager—so intent on making a mess of you, you’re almost humiliated at how easily you fall apart underneath.

you quiver and shake, and try to twist out of his groping hands, but he doesn’t budge, pressing harder into you. “you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart,” he swears.

“luigi,” you cry, helpless. the friction felt so hot it made you light-headed. the pleasures storms out any logical part of you. “i don’t—i don’t know what to do.”

of course you don’t. you were entirely too sweet, too well-meaning, too fuckin’ stupid to realize how badly he wanted you. running up to him after his gym workout, bright-eyed as you asked him to hang out. not on a date, not even as friends, but for a stupid fucking college paper. he should’ve taken you right there, in the parking lot, let you scream on it so loud the entire campus knew you were his, saved all this goddamn time.

“you’re a fuckin’ virgin?” luigi asks. he needs to hear you say it.

he rips his hand from your aching cunt and you cry out at the loss of friction.

“yes,” you pout.

“any good journalist knows to use specifics.” you see a cocky grin etch onto his lips before he flips you over and brings you in for a proper kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as he sinks into you. you kiss him back. you wanted this, whatever it was. “tell me again.”

“i’m a virgin,” you admit, reddening.

he smiles against your cheek before kissing you again—“been waiting for me, yeah? you want me to take you?”

“luigi, please.”

“what’s that?” he says, cruel.

you pout again and try to please him, rushing into another kiss. he captures your lips gladly, but refuses to bring you to the satisfaction of salvation.

all too mean, he points out, “you don’t even know what you’re begging for.”

at this point you were sure you could get drunk off the warmth of him. if you bucked up into the air, you could feel his bulge raging against his sweatpants.

“i want you,” you whine. “i mean—i just—i thought you wanted me too..?”

“of course i do. look at you.” luigi grunts before he strips off his shirt, ripping down your leggings with a force that pulls your body down the bed with him. his dark gaze drifts down.

you flush at the sight of the wet mess all over your legs. “you did all that just for me?” luigi mocks. “you want me that fuckin’ bad?”

“yes,” you have no idea why but you do. you can’t imagine a world where you walk away now and never experience him.

luigi never had any intention of being nice about this. his morals and his plans for the night unraveled the moment his eyes found you sprawled across his bed. harshly, he grips your hips—sure to leave marks, hoping for it—before pounding the entirety of his length into your purity.

the stretch scorches, searing into you. you see white, red, and hell all at once. “luigi—!” you cry out.

“you’re so good,” luigi assures. he tries to pace himself as you fall apart underneath him. he tries he tries he tries—but your inexperienced pussy molds around him, so perfect and wet, he can’t help himself.

you feel everything but perfect. unnerved and wild and overwhelmed, whimpering underneath him like a sick puppy. he fucks into you like he’s itching to see if you’ll break.

“it hurts,” you whine.

“you look so fuckin’ pretty with your legs spread,” luigi says. “can’t get enough of this perfect pussy.”

you paw at him, desperate for sacred ground, grip landing on his arms, hard and toned underneath your fingertips. he smirks. “feelin’ me up, sweetheart? you like my arms?”

the sound of skin slapping overtakes your corner of the world. you’d seen him before, but never like this. you’ve never had anything like this.

“luigi.” you whimper. “i can’t, you’re so big—”

“i know, pretty, i know,” he murmurs, kissing the running wet tears down your cheeks. “d’you remember the night you went up to me after the gym? d’you remember what you were wearing?”

you can’t help but claw your fingers deep into his arm muscles, desperate to find a vice for the pain. “oh my god,” you gasp. he pounds into you relentlessly and before you realize, you’re rolling into waves of foreign pleasure.

“stupid fuckin’ tank top,” luigi groans. pleasure storms you as he gets more brazen. he pulls down your camisole, lapping at your tits, biting you, marking you. “wind blew over and i got to see your perfect fuckin’ nipples. wanted to tear you apart right there.”

“what? really?”

“had to jack off in my fuckin’ car thinking about you, about this,” he murmurs before smashing his mouth back onto yours—and this time, you feel more prepared to bear it, melting into his warmth, lips perfectly reunited. you’re shivering under the heat. he fucks you hard into the mattress, hellbent on breaking you in. you’re sure he’s accomplished it already. you’re dizzy and light and on top of the goddamn world.

he sees through you. “fuckin’ close?”

“i-i think so—”

“so fuckin’ stupid,” he muses. “stupid fuckin’ virgin, doesn’t even know when she’s gonna cum.”

“you’re so mean,” you whine.

“yeah, you think so?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as his hand strikes your cheek. the sting blooms like fire, another cruel signature of his dominance, a mark left behind in his endless quest to tarnish the golden purity you wear so effortlessly. his wicked touch moves down to your delicate clit and the sparks of pleasure turn into storms. you’re done for, waves of white gushing around him as you cry out his name.

“oh god,” luigi groans. “such a good girl, creamin’ on it like that. so perfect.”

the jolt of pleasure within you only makes you more sensitive. this time, when his hands return to your body, they’re clamped around your neck. he’s pulling into you, punishing your delicate cunt. as you quiver and froth, his thrusts grow sloppy and he rasps again—this time more guttural, more intense—and soon enough you feel his huge cock twitch inside of you, sending streams of his seed into your stomach.

he joins your silhouette on the bed, his warmth melting into yours as he pulls you close. his arms wrap around you, steady and secure, and his lips press softly to your forehead.

“‘m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice low and soothing. “didn’t mean to get so rough.”

you struggle to find the breath, then the words, “no, i—i think it was fine.”

he looks at you, his smile fading into something more thoughtful, his gaze deepening with quiet admiration. “just fine?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of playful disbelief.

you meet his gaze, your heart fluttering, and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you hum,

“penn’s finest.”

MASTERLIST ! leave me suggestions and review me <3

[chailovesu]

a list of everything ive manifested and what i want to manifest

having alot of friends + also having at least one best friend (in short never being lonely)

people always approaching me first

not living with desired people

instant appearance changes

instant weather changes

very very pretty almond doe eyes and long eyelashes

a puppy

oddly specific tiktoks to pop on my fyp

being "popular" in school

having big boobs and a big butt naturally

being a semi big submaker

my face shape (younger me listened to round shape face subliminals but i had a thin one before)

alot of mcdonalds

bigger prettier lips

alot of sps coming back because i believed in the saying "they always come back"

revising something completely and there being no evidence of it ever happening

long breaks off of school (i feel like since i was listening to ALOT of "cancel school" subliminals b4 the corona break and i've had so many breaks off of school)

soft pretty 3a/3b hair

alotttt of compliments

being seen as very attractive in my own eyes and other ppls

being alot of ppls comfort person everyone tells me they enjoy my company

being right abt random things

manifested alot of things for my old friend

constantly passing classes knowing damn well i didn't do any work 😭 went from a 34 to a 92 doing absolutely nothing

all my teachers liking me enough to bump my grades to passing even if i did nothing in their classes

strangers always being nice to me all the time

people being obsessed with me (i don't recommend manifesting this 😭) 

being lucky in games 

immediate weight loss

having 300+ absences when the county's limit was 10 a semester and never getting in trouble for it

moving out of houses 

being spoiled by people irl and online simply for being attractive

ppl texting me immediately after i think abt them

being able to manifest fast in general 

having a high pitched cute voice

+ other tiny things

what im current manifesting

being extremely rich + living in a mansion

knowing how to speak Spanish, Korean, and French

revising any trauma I've experienced

desired baby pictures and childhood memories

having no anxiety and never overthinking

being everyones type + being like kokomi teruhashi

revising that i have close childhood friends

butt length hair

having no body hair

having a vivid imagination

4.0 gpa + perfect attendance + being naturally smart + being good at math

hazel eyes with mostly green

a cat and a pink bird and a bunny + my current dogs but they're all going to be babies and get along well (also manifesting that ik how to manage all of them)

being shorter

desired parents + only one sibling

a lot of rich love interests

desired body and face

old friends coming back

being a huge submaker like roy

bringing certain family members back to life

im manifesting this by affirming and listening to subliminals because thats what i prefer

[bimkayd]

chapter 2: the closed door | QUEEN SIZED MATTRESS – YU JIMIN.

a closed door, a door locked shut, another door; slightly ajar.

𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 — following the events of where do you sleep, y/n and karina find themselves at the center of a dating scandal. with the reputations of the pair at stake, their once private life crumbling apart under the weight of their companies–how will they get through this? no contact, a line that echoes through the both of their heads constantly. no contact, no missed calls, no good morning texts, no short glances at events, no freedom.

⚠️DISCLAIMER: THIS STORY TAKES PLACE AFTER THE STORY OF WHERE DO YOU SLEEP. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. ⚠️

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — angst. genuinely I need to start writing more than just angst smut! smut! we all chant even though I don't know how to write smut

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 — 2,336

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 — Y'ALL I HAVE CLASS IN LIKE 50 MINUTES THIS IS WHY YOU DONT PROCRASTINATE YOUR CHAPTERS IM SO SORRY ANYWAYS. umm hey!!! i obviously love my fans and put tons of time and care into each and every story (#notproofread) (#illfixitlater) (#dontwaittillthelastminute)

the time gaps are a little disorienting because I lined up korea time zones with la time zones so umm... if it looks a little weird thats why

I PROMISE ILL START MAKING CHAPTERS LONGER ITS JUST AGHH. yall I talk too much, i also snuck in a lesserafim quote at the bottom but the delivery was kinda eh

shout out to @bytemee for being the building blocks for me to plagiarize inspiration/original writer of where do you sleep!!!

taglist (open) — @runawaymazola @prologue-ae @bytemee @yuyuy90 @zindoriyo

wdys masterlist. qsm masterlist. previous. next.

she stared at the text bubble on her screen long after it had already been sent.

“delivered.”

that’s all it said. no read receipts, no typing dots, no reply.

the second it sent, her thumb hovered, almost reflexively over the message, as if she could pull it back in time. take it back, edit it . add context. add something–anything–to make it sound less… pathetic?

but it was already gone. floating in a digital purgatory, waiting to be seen. or worse, ignored.

her stomach churned

she’d spent the last hour drifting around the dorm like a ghost. the silence was starting to get to her. her team had given her the day off–pr called it a “cooling period.” more executives telling her to lay low. stylists cancelled fittings, and her group chat with the girls had gone quiet, except for ning’s half-hearted meme from last night that no one responded to.

it wasn’t that they didn’t care about her. it was that they knew, and even they didn’t know what to say.

neither did she

she had hovered over y/n’s contact for minutes by now, her thumb trembling with the weight of the immense guilt, the whispers, the headlines, the weight of the guilt pulling her thumb down across the keyboard–she typed so many versions of that message.

“i’m sorry i missed your birthday.” “i didn’t know what to say.” “i wanted to call but i couldn’t” “i messed up.” “i love you.” every version felt like a lie or a little too late.

so she’d sent the only truth that had survived the night. “i’m sorry. i don’t know what to do.”

and that was the truth, wasn’t it? she didn’t know.

not how to fix it. not how to undo what was already unraveled. she didn’t know how to be karina, the idol, and jimin, the girl who was head over heels for y/n, all at once anymore.

so she stood there. in the middle of the dorm’s living room. curtains still drawn. phone still warm in her hand.

the room had felt too still, as if it had been paused..

everything about her life felt like it’d been paused except time.

she sat back down on the couch, legs curled under her, hoodie bunched up to her chin, fingers clenched around her phone.

y/n wasn’t going to respond. she knew it.

the rational parts of her brain told her it was because y/n’s phone was off. the insecure part told her that it was because she didn’t deserve to get a response.

she was the one who disappeared. the one who let the company speak for her. the one who hid behind the quiet of her company because it was just so much easier than facing the fire.

and maybe that’s what hurt the most. that she had let y/n burn alone.

time passed in slow motion. the kind of time that drips instead of ticks. each second felt like a drop of guilt that soaked into her skin and refused to dry

so when the screen lit up again–

she almost dropped the phone.

6:53 pm y/n: then tell me what you want

her chest collapsed

not from panic. not from anger. but from the sheer weight of its ache.

those six words. they felt sharper than any headline. heavier than any silence

they weren’t accusatory. they weren’t kind, either. they were just… bare. raw. honest.

tell me what you want.

she reread that message maybe five, ten, twenty times, until it was all that occupied her mind.

what did she want? she wanted y/n she wanted to turn back the clock she wanted to walk out of that damn restaurant and say, “no you’re right y/n, we can enjoy the night in your apartment too.” she wanted to show up with flowers and cake and maybe that stupid hat y/n always teased her about.

she wanted to not be afraid.

she brought her knees to her chest, forehead resting against them as her hands trembled.

she typed slowly, carefully, and deleted twice.

then finally:

6:59 am jimin: i want you. i want to do this the right way this time. i don’t care about the contracts. i don’t care about the backlash. just tell me i didn’t lose you for good.

she hit send.

and this time, she didn’t look away.

y/n – 3:00 pm

the vibration startled her. she almost didn’t check.

her phone had been a graveyard all day–outside from the occasional buzzes from instagram, emails that were slowly piling up, and one unread message from… karina. jimin. y/n had stopped thinking of her as karina from the moment that everything fell apart.

now, it was jimin again. like the girl she met in the hallways of the sm building by accident, not the face on a billboard. and that made her so much harder to forget.

she stared at the new notification. jimin: i want you. i want to do this the right way this time. i don’t care about the contracts. i don’t care about the backlash. just tell me i didn’t lose you for good.

her thumb hovered, heart a skipping stone caught midair. there it was.

the thing she had begged for countless times in her head. the confession, the promise. the promise that she needed to hear long ago.

y/n laid her head back against her headboard, her knees curled, her mind spiraling out of control.

she didn’t know how to feel. not really. not when the girl she loved was finally saying all the things she should’ve said before it shattered.

her response should’ve felt like relief should’ve given y/n the closure that she needed. yet it didn’t. it felt like pressure. like the moment before the waves crash–right when your lungs fill with salt and you have no idea if this is the moment you’ll drown, or be carried to shore.

she exhaled sharply. her fingers dragged across the sheets, restless. closure wasn’t supposed to hurt this much.

where had this been weeks ago? when she was at the dinner table with her family, holding back tears and blowing out a candle. when every headline twisted her into some lovesick maniac; maybe she was. when jimin’s silence spoke louder than words ever could: “i can’t choose you”

because now, the last thing she wanted was an apology. she wanted proof.

proof that she meant every word of what she said, proof that the jimin she’d fallen in love with came to her senses, proof that she’d choose y/n over her career.

and yet she wasn’t sure if she was ready to believe her again. not yet. but still– she typed. backspace. typed again deleted everything. started over.

3:06 pm y/n: you’re saying the right things, the things that i wanted to hear now. but i needed you when it was quiet. when no one was watching. i needed you to choose me then.

she hit send no humor, no emojis just the truth.

and this time, she didn’t cry

not yet.

the silence that followed was restless it pressed around her like a tide–thick, heavy, and still.

she set her phone face-down back onto her nightstand. the soft click of the glass on wood echoed too loud in her ears.

it was too quiet now. too still.

and suddenly, she was back there. not physically–but in the way memories sneak up on you when you least expect them. when your heart is cracked just wide enough for them to sneak in unnoticed.

the smell of citrus and champagne. the low thump of bass through the floor. glitter all over the walls, and something in her chest.

y/n’s pov

it had been one of those nights–loud, glittering, and suffocating.

the afterparty was held in a penthouse that looked like it was designed to be photographed more than lived in. seoul’s skyline poured in through the glass walls, city lights flickering like paparazzi. everything smelled like champagne, stress, and expensive cologne. everyone smiled with perfect teeth and said things they didn’t mean.

y/n hadn’t even wanted to be there but jimin was.

and that was more than enough of a reason.

she’d arrived late, dressed down compared to the squined crowd, her anxiety masked by her choreographed expressions. y/n wasn’t part of this world. not really. but she’d carved out a corner of her world where jimin could find her–if she ever wanted to.

but jimin hadn’t even glanced in her direction when she walked in.

from the moment she stepped in, she was surrounded by people–stylists, managers, a few idols y/n vaguely recognized. her laughter was polite. her smile didn’t reach her eyes. and her gaze never drifted to where y/n stood, clutching a drink she wasn’t sipping, pretending that she didn’t notice.

it had been weeks since that night during the mama awards and jimin was pretending like nothing had happened.

that was the moment y/n realized she might be the only one still pretending that there was something left

she caught her in the hallway, between conversations, between pretending.

“can we talk?” y/n asked, her voice low, yet desperate.

jimin blinked, caught off guard. “now?”

“when else?” her tone wasn’t sharp, but it wasn’t soft either. just tired. just human

they stepped into a corridor away from the main lunge-still within the ears-distance of the crowd, yet at the same time, miles away from it. the low punch of music and laughter carried throughout the building like white noise.

jimin crossed her arms, glancing over her shoulder before looking back at her. “this really isn’t the place y/n.”

“it never is,” y/n muttered.

and that's maybe what did it. maybe that was the moment she realized that she was clinging to scraps that were long expired.

the way her voice cracked a little too close to the surface. the way she didn’t mask her disappointment anymore. the way jimin looked at her, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t risk the wrong person hearing.

“you don’t get to disappear and then play it safe in front of people,” y/n whispered. “i’m not asking for a grand gesture from you. i’m just–just asking for you to see me.”

“i do see you,” jimin replied, frustration threading into her whisper, “but there are people everywhere, y/n. do you know what happens if the wrong person hears–?”

“then let them,” y/n interrupted, “i’m tired of being your secret.”

that was the first time the silence between them had felt permanent.

not a pause. not a breath permanent.

jimin looked at her with a kind of helplessness that y/n didn’t know what to do within. it was like she wanted to reach out and couldn’t. like the air between them had turned electric, heavy, and untouchable.

then someone from the party called jimin’s name.

she flinched, “i have to go.”

of course she did.

y/n stepped back, chewing on the insides of her cheek as she gave a small, bitter nod. “yeah. you always do.”

and that was it.

the last time she’d seen her in person.

the moment that memory faded, she was back in her apartment, in the now, the silence still ringing in her ears.

her phone buzzed. she glanced down.

7:12 am karina’s pov

she sat still, fingers curled around the phone like it might break if she held it any tighter.

the text sat there on her screen, unblinking. unapologetic “i needed you to choose me then.”

and as she always did, karina didn’t know what to say to that. not because she thought it was a lie. but because she really didn’t.

because she remembered the afterparty she remember the way y/n looked at her–like maybe she still hoped, and how karina looked away first.

she thought that the silence would protect both of them. but now she knew: silence had done the damage.

karina reread y/n’s message again,

“you’re saying the right things, the things that i wanted to hear now. but i needed you when it was quiet. when no one was watching. i needed you to choose me then.”

each word landed like a jab, the weight of the truth bruising into her sides.

her mind spun back to that hallway, the echoes of the bass vibrating along the walls, and y/n standing there–eyes wide and heartbroken. jimin could still clearly picture the way her lips trembled when she whispered, “i’m tired of being your secret,” the way her pupils dilated, holding back her tears, the way her breath hitched like the truth had broken its way into her lungs. her lashes were wet, but not a single tear dared to fall–as if letting one escape would be admitting that it hurt.

and karina had crushed it with a look, a pause, and a step backward.

now, she sat with the thoughts of every unsaid thing choking her. her phone buzzed again in her hand–not a message this time, just a low battery warning. fitting, she thought; she felt drained too.

there was a time she would’ve ran straight to the airport, ran straight to y/n’s apartment in the middle of the night with a bouquet of flowers and a messy, yet emotional apology. the difference now was: she wasn’t sure if that door would still be open.

still, she typed. not impulsively, not with desperation–but with a stillness that comes only after you’ve finally started telling the truth.

7:19 am jimin:

i didn’t choose you then. not because i didn’t want to. but because i was scared. of what people would say. of what i’d lose but i lost you anyway and that’s on me

so this time, i won’t say anything else. not until i can show you. if there’s still a chance–i’ll prove it. i’ll show up. in the quiet. even if no one’s watching.

even if the door that we once shared is closed; locked shut. i’ll find that backdoor, the door that’s just slightly ajar. and open them all.

[thereweredragonshere]

what headcanons do you have for the riders in a modern au?

Sorry if some of these are a little basic lmao I don't think about modern aus all that much.

They all live in Britain. Sue me. I want some dragons over this side of the atlantic.

Hiccup -

Does digital art

Plays minecraft religiously and can do red stone better than he can do maths

has failed exams due to his pretty much illegible hand writing despite answers being mostly correct

Listens to exclusively 80s/90s music

Lives in a flat above a pub that his dad owns called 'Berk' aka 'Berk's bar' (Which is a whole au that i have and is where i got the name for my discord server from lmao. But these headcanons aren't all specifically from that au. Just general ones.)

Gets bullied quite bad at school. He's taken days off because of it before.

Class presentations are his worst nightmare. Can never get his words out during them and gets very freaked out.

Astrid -

Plays Rugby, Football, does boxing, really name any contact sport and she's probably tried it at some point. Her favourite lesson is P.E. (Physical education/gym class) and she will riot if it gets cancelled for some reason.

'Difficult' student. She struggles with anger management and schools are shit at helping kids with that, so she gets labelled as a problem child cuz she always chats back and gets sent out of classrooms.

Despite being a 'problem' child, she still gets all the shit that needs doing done.

Never shows up to school assemblies. She usually just goes and finds a staircase to sit on.

Divorced parents. She bounces between houses quite a lot.

Spends most of her free time at the gym. Buffstrid canon in modern times too people!!

Snotlout -

Got massively bullied in year 7 and like half way through year 8 he switched the fuck up and became a fucking menace. Bro was NOT playing.

Rides horses. Hookfang is a horse.

Is lowkey fucking amazing at maths but he's scared to put effort into it cuz he thinks he'll get made fun of.

When him and Astrid become friends they actually bond over being the 'problem' kids. Though Astrid is a bit more than Snotlout.

Constantly in corner shops. He loves buying overpriced american sweets.

Fishlegs -

Actually very rarely gets bullied cuz no one knows who the fuck he is (Until the gang all become friends, then people DEFINIATELY know who they all are.)

Loves the three sciences. Even physics. He actively enjoys doing physics.

Kinda not really a teacher's pet. He won't tell on you but he certainly won't partake in whatever it is you're doing on your phone in the middle of a very important english lesson.

Loves shakepeare.

Him and Snotlout (When the gang all become friends) set up one of those stupid cliche 'pay me and I'll do your homework' things in the boys toilets at school. Snotlout did the discreate advertising and Fishlegs did the homework. They split profits 50/50 and they both found it so funny that it actually worked. And then they got busted by the head teacher and that's the first time fishlegs ever got detention.

Ruffnut -

Local school fact file. She can tell you every single detail about the place. Wanna know when that one piece of gum you just accidentally touched was stuck to the table? She'll fucking know.

Giver her £10 and she will eat literally anything.

Actually CAN'T get bullied cuz she just doesn't give a fuck

Very good at english/languages

Has never done homework a day in her life. Never will.

Brings random live animals into school every now and again. Much to the genuine delight of Hiccup.

Drives her parents' car somewhat regularly, despite not being old enough and not having a licence.

Tuffnut -

Can tell you the translation of ANY word into French. This guy is a MACHINE in French lessons.

brings full sized nerf water guns into school.

Chicken is canon. Ruff and Tuff share their bedroom with Chicken.

Never ever sits normally. Always swinging on his chair or sitting cross legged.

Chronic beanie wearer

[meow-moment]

My distoipian short story i hope you like it

I wake up. I turn off my alarm clock (head implant) and leave my house. My mom is already at work, her job as a looping stripper hologram starts at 3am. I get on the city bus (flying) and head to dystopian megaschool. Chris Pratt Generalized Turbocademy, located in central HyperNeo CyberJersey.

As soon as I arrive the custodian android straps me into my infopod. The VR headset thrusts itself onto my eyes and feeds me two hours straight of propagandvertising (portmantaeu of propaganda+advertising). I am then quizzed.

"Who Won The Neon Wars?" It asks.

"PepsiCo," I answer.

"How Many People Died In The Neon Wars?"

"2.6 Trillion."

"Name One Long-Term Consequence Of The Neon Wars."

"The sun got extinguished."

And the quiz continues. I get every question right- if I got two or more wrong, my infopod would liquefy me and send my remains to the cafeteria to be served as lunch. The headset chastises my handwriting and recommends a stabilizer implant for my wrist. (I already have one but the machine is trying to get me to admit it's a bootleg. If I do admit it, I will also be liquefied.)

After that is lunch. They're serving my favorite today: liquefied students. I meet up with my friends Xyrone, Klazzz, and M.I.K.E. and we gossip together.

Xyrone is a hacker with a headset constantly strapped over his eyes and a bitcoin-mining rig surgically mounted to his back. He doesn't need to study because he can break through the school's firewall and change his grades to A's. We keep asking him to change ours too, but he's a Nova-Libertarian, so he thinks if we want it that bad we should do it ourselves.

Klazzz was recruited at age 8 to pilot a mech in the global manhunt for Saddam Hussien. (He'd have to be 900 years old by now at least, but modern medicine is crazy so I dunno.) A bully thinks it's be funny to mimic an explosion sound with his mouth right behind her, and her combat instincts kick in and she vaporizes him and his posse with her arm-mounted neutron cannon. (If anyone tries to remove it from her body, it shuts down her nervous system and then self-destructs, meaning it's classified as a disability aid)(that's why she's allowed to have it in school)

M.I.K.E. is a closeted singularity. He doesn't think anyone knows but he's obviously such a sjklop (slur for AIs) its not even funny. Sometimes I paint captchas on my face so he can't tell its me and then I beat the fuck out of him. I think it's funny.

We realize we all have next period free so we decide to skip class. On the way to our favorite pizza joint we notice a news bulletin being projected onto the sky. Greg (Eternal God-CEO, President, Emperor-Lord, and Judge of the Northern Hemisphere, as well as founder of tech startup Rooblop) is announcing that we're going to nuke Venus, just in case there are aliens there.

We turn around from the news just in time to realize that M.I.K.E.'s pathfinding has malfunctioned and led him into the middle of the street. He's hit by a car and immediately torn to shreds (all cars have sawblades mounted to the front to discourage jaywalking.) The driver doesn't even bat an eye (he's also an AI, his own pathfinding malfunctions a second later and he makes a sharp left turn into a crowded mall.) I save the footage and post it to the cloud. It gains 2 billion views over the next thirty seconds. Ten seconds after that, a rights organization cancels me for glorifying AI murder. On the horizon, I see a drone strike get called in on my Dystopian Megaschool, and I'm glad I skipped class.

We stop at the Dystopian Mega Pizza Shop on the way home. Their pepperoni is guaranteed to only be 90% liquefied high schoolers, and the cookies they sell even have real Khreim! (not to be confused with Cream, Creme, Kreem, Chreamm, or Kchreeighm.) Unfortunately, the entire restaurant is sold out, as the cadre of CopDrones in the corner bought everything edible in the building to fuel their starved appetites. Klazzz throws a disparaging insult in their direction, and in response they shoot Xyrone 87 times in the chest.

I arrive home. My mom is home on her 30 minute break. She's made meatloaf, made with Tomaytoh Soss(tm,) Garlic, Liquid Teenagers, and a whole lot of love. I give her a big hug. She says she has to run, but there's a special birthday treat in the freezer. I open it up to find a whole pint of ice cream waiting for me. My favorite flavor: mint chip.

And you'll never guess what it's made of.

That's right: Bugs.

THIS POST IS SATIRE

[tzyuki]

— (08.14.23) ZEROBASEONE

IN WHICH ✶ jj tzyuzki writes different enemies 2 lovers scenarios with the jebis!

genre 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ gn!reader x non-idol!zb1 , e2l

warnings 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ none that i know of, if so please tell me!

͏͏⏤ ☆ sung hanbin / 성한빈

you and hanbin would be “rivals” while working at a cafe. like when you guys are told to sell certain items on the menu you guys try and get more than the other. you start catching feelings for him when one day he defended you while getting yelled at by your boss.

͏͏⏤ ☆ kim jiwoong / 김지웅

you and jiwoong would be labeled as competing actors because you guys both were actors on hit dramas, the nets would compare characters / actors and you guys would get compared more than the others. so when you guys both landed a role on the same show you kind of had an image already set for him, you just saw him as your rival because of all the talk online. but when you found out that your characters would end up being a side relationship you were taken aback, but as filming happened you slowly fell in love with his personality.

͏͏⏤ ☆ zhang hao / 章昊

you and hao were popular among the music scene, while hao was getting invited to play at a bunch of weddings, you were getting invited to play at a bunch of birthday parties. you started to see him as a rival when people started to book him instead of you, your clients would message you saying “I’m so sorry y/n, can we cancel you?” and then on the day of the event you’d see photos of hao from the attendees who were crushing on him. you started to feel attracted to him when he was booked for a wedding of a friend, you could see how passionate he was while playing the violin and that hooked you in.

͏͏⏤ ☆ seok matthew / 석매튜

you had just found matthew annoying, for like no given reason…you just liked being a little hater and didnt understand why ppl were fawning over him. he knew you didn’t take much of a liking to him so he would purposely annoy you more. when he had gone back to korea you actually missed his annoyance.

͏͏⏤ ☆ kim taerae / 김태래

taerae and you were always fighting over the top two spots in a game that was currently popular. you guys would always juggle between the first and second spot. it irked both of you guys so much that even the sight of each other or the sound of e/o’s voice pissed you guys off. it’s only when you guys suddenly get placed into the same teams on another game is when you guys got close. learning that it’s pretty fun to play games with one another.

͏͏⏤ ☆ shen quanrui / 沈泉锐

you were honestly just jealous of the attention ricky got that it made you hate him. he had everyone loving him and you just didn’t understand it. you knew deep down that it was js pure jealousy but one day when ricky is your assigned partner you learn how soft spoken and sweet he could be, slowly understanding why he’s the center of the attention.

͏͏⏤ ☆ kim gyuvin / 김규빈

you hated how loud and chaotic gyuvin was. you were introverted and hated loud distractions. gyuvin and his friends would be at the library trying to study but they end up just goofing off. this made you grow a hatred for him because of how inconsiderate he was being. but when you are assigned to tutor him you find it kind of endearing on how clueless he was about a certain subject, but tried his best to understand it.

͏͏⏤ ☆ park gunwook / 박건욱

you guys were constantly up against each other academically. you guys were the schools best students and always fought for the top spot. you hated how he ‘stole’ the class president spot from you js because everyone found him charming and attractive. you had some personal problems going on, causing your grades to drop drastically. gunwook noticed this as your teachers would scold you. he thought you looked hopeless so he wanted to help you catch up, that’s when you started to learn how kind the boy is, definitely deserving the class president spot.

͏͏⏤ ☆ han yujin / 한유진

you and yujin would bicker all the time for no reason. one day two bickered while a lesson was going on and both got detention, your teacher making you guys sit next to each other and finish a worksheet tgt in hopes you’d get along by the end. you both were stubborn as hell … it took you guys a while to actually start on the worksheet but you guys learned that you can work well that day.

permanent taglist (open) 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ @jangwonie @cwsana @luvyrin @shinsou-rii @amara-mars @ineedaherosavemeenow @mintydayeon @love-4-keum @kpopx-xlover @abdiitcryy @beepjeongie @ox1-lovesick @ja4hyvn @winkura @ddeonudepressions @tnyhees @wannabeyn @kpoprhia @svnghoonsonly @redm4ri @yerimse

[dufferpuffer]

~~ Looking at Lycanthropy ~~

Part 2: Social Perception of Werewolves.

Looking at Lycanthropy (all parts)

Words: Approx. 8000

Social Perception (What people think of him; His social situation) Self Perception (What he thinks about himself)

PRISONER OF AZKABAN

Chapter 5 (In the last part, we saw that he was constantly described physically as being pale, ill, exhausted, grey-haired... but I omitted his other constant description: Shabby.)

pg 59 The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes which had been darned in several places.

Darning is to mend holes with stitches, creating a patch out of thread. This is a really nice image, alongside the lettering on his case: He has meticulously darned the holes in his robes. He has put his name on his case. He looks shabby – but full of effort and delicate care for detail, gaining skills to make do with what he has.

pg 60 'Well, I hope he's up to it,' said Ron doubtfully: 'He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway ...' he turned to Harry, 'what were you going to tell us?'

Chapter 7

pg 99 He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals.

Chapter 8

Notes: His clothes are really not up to par with how shabby, patched and frayed they are.

pg 107 'Look at the state of his robes,' Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. 'He dresses like our old house-elf.' But nobody else cared that Professor Lupin's robes were patched and frayed.

Chapter 9

Notes: Werewolf identification is common knowledge, likely for safety reasons Secondary Notes: Possible Remus has been avoiding the topic of werewolves, holding the class back to not reach it

pg 128/129 'Are you telling me that professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between–' … … 'Silence!' snarled Snape. 'Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognise a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are...' … … 'Very poorly explained... that is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia... Professor Lupin gave this an eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it a three...'

It is common knowledge for magical folk, thirteen and over, to recognise werewolves. They're well understood – perhaps considered a likely danger, important to understand. Example: If you are out gathering ingredients on the Full Moon, or brewing a potion under its light, or simply traveling... you need to be able to tell a werewolf from a true wolf at a glance – so you know what spells to cast - whether to stay or run. Also – unless Snape is being hyperbolic and expecting far too much of the class – Lupin may be holding the class back intentionally so that he didn't reach werewolves, avoiding the topic for his own sake.

Chapter 10

Pg 139 Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.'Don't worry, I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay.'

Lupin is happy the kids haven't done their essay. Rather than extending the due date, or shortening the length, or doing anything that encourages learning – he cancels the entire task.

Pg 147 Harry squeezed himself through a crowd of sixth-years and saw a sign hanging in the furthest corner of the shop ('Unusual Tastes'). Ron and Hermione were standing underneath it, examining a tray of blood-flavoured lollipops. Harry sneaked up behind them. 'Urgh, no, Harry won't want one of those, they're for vampires, I expect,' Hermione was saying.

Nothing to do with Lycanthropy – but I found this interesting: Honeydukes stocks lollies made for Vampires. Hermione might be wrong – maybe they're even for werewolves too – but the only Vampire we meet is introduced with some respect. Vampires are a topic that deserves its own meta-thingy, like this – but it is interesting that a 'Being' that is so dangerous, feared and possibly parasitic to Humanity is accepted enough to have lollipops! Is it a class thing...? There are ancient and powerful families of Vampires – while Werewolves tend to be Wizards-made-poor?

Chapter 12

pg 183 'They call it the Dementors' Kiss,' said Lupin, with a slightly twisted smile. ... 'He deserves it,' he said suddenly. 'You think so?' said Lupin lightly. 'Do you really think anyone deserves that?'

Remus seems to have strong feelings on the Kiss. He insinuates he doesn't believe anyone deserves it, through his calm and vague manner. Could just be his moral standing on the issue? His father studied them – maybe he just thinks they're awful. But consider, as a werewolf, he could face Azkaban with one misstep. I wonder if he dwells on that often.

Chapter 21 Notes: Werewolf and Murderer are suggested to the Minister with relatively equal weight. 'Werewolves are so mistrusted … his support will count for very little.' - given more weight than the fact he and Sirius are old friends.

pg 283 "Consider, Minister: against all school rules - after all the precautions put in place for his protection - out of bounds, at night, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer - and I have reason to believe he has been visiting Hogsmeade illegally, too -'

'Werewolf' and 'Murderer' are given relatively equal weighting. Both are 'monsters', I suppose.

pg 287 'Professor Lupin is currently deep in the Forest, unable to tell anyone anything. By the time he is human again, it will be too late, Sirius will be worse than dead. I might add that werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that his support will count for very little - and the fact that he and Sirius are old friends -'

I didn't put this in the previous part: Just the small fact werewolves cannot talk when transformed. Seems obvious, but it's good to have confirmation.

Chapter 22

Notes: Lower your voice when talking about werewolves. Anyone would expect it'll send you packing. Lupin doesn't think the social backlash worth fighting, nor the danger worth mitigating. He failed once – and cannot trust himself a second time.

pg 308 'Blimey, haven' yeh heard?' said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. 'Er - Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'... thought everyone'd know by now... Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose in the grounds las' night. He's packin' now, o' course.'

Note: Hagrid is a Half-Giant, hated just as much if not more than a werewolf – when he made a 'mistake' he was expelled and his wand shattered. He is sympathetic to Remus but understanding of the reality of needing to go. He isn't being callous here at all.

pg 309 'This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents - they will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you... that must never happen again.'

Lupin confirms that he cannot control himself when transformed. He see's himself, and his failure, as a true danger that is not worth trying to mitigate.

~~~ ORDER OF THE PHOENIX

Chapter 3

pg 47 Remus Lupin stood nearest to him. Though still quite young, Lupin looked tired and rather ill; he had more gray hair than when Harry had said good-bye to him, and his robes were more patched and shabbier than ever. Nevertheless, he was smiling broadly at Harry, who tried to smile back through his shock.

He is tired, he is ill, he is grey and he is shabby. More than that: Even shabbier than they were over a year ago. He has patched them more – are they the same clothes?!?

Chapter 5

pg 94 “And I’m not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community,” said Lupin. “It’s an occupational hazard of being a werewolf.”

He's being a little cheeky – but its clear he accepts his fate: people won't like him. He is lucky some of the community accepts him.

Chapter 9

Notes: Werewolf segregation laws exist.

pg 170/171 Hermione was talking very earnestly to Lupin about her view of elf rights. “I mean, it’s the same kind of nonsense as werewolf segregation, isn’t it? It all stems from this horrible thing wizards have of thinking they’re superior to other creatures..."

We don't get to see Lupin's reaction to this – but it's likely more nuanced than Hermione's assumptions, especially considering Remus' 'acceptance' of his situation. Hermione see's the plight of werewolves as similar to the plight of House-Elves... well-meaning, but false, and insensitive to both House-Elves and people with Lycanthropy. Her wording suggests she instinctively doesn't think of Remus as a wizard, a human – but as a werewolf.

Chapter 12

Notes: Prejudice people call werewolves 'half-breeds' – already an insulting term for actual part-humans, but factually incorrect for werewolves. Lycanthropy is not a race or species.

pg 245 “I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school,” she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, “but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed — not to mention,” she gave a nasty little laugh, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.” “If you mean Professor Lupin,” piped up Dean Thomas angrily, “he was the best we ever—”

I hate to say it: she has a point – but she should have kept it at 'irresponsible wizards'. She is being speciesist and offensive: werewolves are not half-breed or part-human. They are 'whole' humans with Lycanthropy. Calling them half-breeds suggests they are 'less than human' and/or have 'lost some humanity'. Remus is not part-human, he is an irresponsible wizard. Dean's got his back though. get behind him, Remus

Chapter 14

pg 302 “Yes, but the world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters,” said Sirius with a wry smile. “I know she’s a nasty piece of work, though — you should hear Remus talk about her.” “Does Lupin know her?” asked Harry quickly, remembering Umbridge’s comments about dangerous half-breeds during her first lesson. “No,” said Sirius, “but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job.” Harry remembered how much shabbier Lupin looked these days and his dislike of Umbridge deepened even further. “What’s she got against werewolves?” said Hermione angrily. “Scared of them, I expect,” said Sirius, smiling at her indignation.

It's unclear if her anti-werewolf legislation was before or after Severus exposed Remus. I don't think it's ridiculous to think it was after, though that'd be more like 1.5yrs... Either way – soft confirmation that Remus is shabby from his financial situation, and that his financial situation is directly tied to social perception of his Lycanthropy. He also isn't entirely passive and accepting of his lot in life: he is angry about it when it goes too far.

Chapter 15

pg 308 Among those ‘eccentric decisions’ are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody.

Remus listed right alongside a half-giant. More interesting that Moody is listed as one of them, making sure to call him 'delusional' and without even printing his actual fucking name. Disgusting. Being part-human, physically sick, mentally sick... all similar, right? None of them are any good.

Chapter 22

Notes: Even 'accepting' people question their safety around werewolves. Healers may be more sympathetic – due to understanding them more and dealing with them more. Hospitals likely have rooms prepared for werewolf transformations. Secondary Notes: A recent Lycanthropy case may have anger issues.

pg 488/489 "...But that fellow over there,” he said, dropping his voice and nodding toward the bed opposite in which a man lay looking green and sickly and staring at the ceiling. “Bitten by a werewolf, poor chap. No cure at all.” “A werewolf?” whispered Mrs. Weasley, looking alarmed. “Is he safe in a public ward? Shouldn’t he be in a private room?” “It’s two weeks till full moon,” Mr. Weasley reminded her quietly. “They’ve been talking to him this morning, the Healers, you know, trying to persuade him he’ll be able to lead an almost normal life. I said to him — didn’t mention names, of course — but I said I knew a werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy to manage. ...” “What did he say?” asked George. “Said he’d give me another bite if I didn’t shut up,” said Mr. Weasley sadly.

'Can Arthur stop being perfect for even one second' challenge: impossible. When talking about Lycanthropy: you lower your voice. It's a dirty topic. Arthur, at least, is also being mindful of the patients privacy... but Molly is reacting with prejudice. He is a werewolf so he is unsafe. Interestingly, the Healers seem to be sympathetic – and what Molly says suggests there are private rooms fitted for werewolves. Though that's likely a necessity for a hospital rather than a kindness.

The patient seems to have some anger issues right now... though I would too, if I had been infected by an isolating, degrading, painful illness and everyone kept telling me how 'normal' I could be. Arthur means well. He is sad he upset him. I love you Arthur.

Chapter 23

Secondary Notes: Lycanthropy may be enough to have you disowned by friends and family.

pg 507 Lupin strolled away from the bed and over to the werewolf, who had no visitors and was looking rather wistfully at the crowd around Mr. Weasley;

Did he have nobody in his life before he was bitten? Or has he lost them all now? I'm crying.

Chapter 28

pg 643 “How thick are you, Wormtail?” said James impatiently. “You run round with a werewolf once a month —” “Keep your voice down,” implored Lupin. pg 645 “I’m bored,” said Sirius. “Wish it was full moon.” “You might,” said Lupin darkly from behind his book.

James and Sirius are both loose-lipped and casual about his Lycanthropy. They see it as fun. Remus does not see it as fun. He is serious about it. Annoyed by James – pissed at Sirius.

Chapter 38

pg 867 Next to Tonks was Lupin, his face pale, his hair graying, a long and threadbare overcoat covering a shabby jumper and trousers.

Threadbare, too... can someone please fund a shopping trip for this man? Hand-me-downs? Is he too stubborn about it? Molly I am begging you to knit him a nice sweater.

~~~ HALF BLOOD PRINCE

Chapter 6

pg 94 To Mrs. Weasley’s displeasure, Harry’s sixteenth birthday celebrations were marred by grisly tidings brought to the party by Remus Lupin, who was looking gaunt and grim, his brown hair streaked liberally with gray, his clothes more ragged and patched than ever.

'Ship of Theseus' ass robes

Chapter 16

Notes: Most werewolves live outside of society, in groups following Fenrir Greyback. They are bitten young, taken from their parents and raised in cult-like societies that shun any who have contact to healthy Wizards – believing they are deserving of 'blood', revenge and over-taking society. They struggle out there with getting enough supplies and food, having to steal or kill to eat – and probably are largely uneducated. They follow Voldemort, through Greyback, in the belief his re-formation of society will benefit them. Remus is bitter about being 'equals' with these people, but has sympathy for them even if he sees them – and himself – as lesser than healthy Wizards. The idea he isn't is sweet but naïve to him. He doesn't fit in around them because he was raised and lives around wizarding society. Remus doesn't fit in with wizards either – and is extremely thankful for any help he receives. pg 281

Meanwhile, Remus Lupin,who was thinner and more ragged-looking than ever, was sitting beside the fire, staring into its depths as though he could not hear Celestina’s voice.

pg 283/284

“I neither like nor dislike Severus,” said Lupin. “No, Harry, I am speaking the truth,” he added, as Harry pulled a skeptical expression. “We shall never be bosom friends, perhaps; after all that happened between James and Sirius and Severus, there is too much bitterness there. But I do not forget that during the year I taught at Hogwarts, Severus made the Wolfsbane Potion for me every month, made it perfectly, so that I did not have to suffer as I usually do at the full moon.” “But he ‘accidentally’ let it slip that you’re a werewolf, so you had to leave!” said Harry angrily. Lupin shrugged. “The news would have leaked out anyway. We both know he wanted my job, but he could have wreaked much worse damage on me by tampering with the potion. He kept me healthy. I must be grateful.” “Maybe he didn’t dare mess with the potion with Dumbledore watching him!” said Harry. “You are determined to hate him, Harry,” said Lupin with a faint smile.

Remus appreciates Severus' dedication to his health. He see's it as a kindness: Severus had every reason to mess with it but kept him healthy instead. He was dedicated to Remus' health. It was because of Severus that he had his most comfortable year since he was a teenager – and he see's Harry's insistence on seeing the worst in Severus as ridiculous because of it.

Pg 284/285/286 “Oh, I’ve been underground,” said Lupin. “Almost literally. That’s why I haven’t been able to write, Harry; sending letters to you would have been something of a giveaway.” “What do you mean?” “I’ve been living among my fellows, my equals,” said Lupin. “Werewolves,” he added, at Harry’s look of incomprehension. “Nearly all of them are on Voldemort’s side. Dumbledore wanted a spy and here I was... ready-made.”He sounded a little bitter, and perhaps realized it, for he smiled more warmly as he went on, “I am not complaining; it is necessary work and who can do it better than I? However, it has been difficult gaining their trust. I bear the unmistakable signs of having tried to live among wizards, you see, whereas they have shunned normal society and live on the margins, stealing — and sometimes killing — to eat.” “How come they like Voldemort?” “They think that, under his rule, they will have a better life,” said Lupin. “And it is hard to argue with Greyback out there “ “Who’s Greyback?” “You haven’t heard of him?” Lupin’s hands closed convulsively in his lap. “Fenrir Greyback is, perhaps, the most savage werewolf alive today. He regards it as his mission in life to bite and to contaminate as many people as possible; he wants to create enough werewolves to overcome the wizards. Voldemort has promised him prey in return for his services. Greyback specializes in children... Bite them young, he says, and raise them away from their parents, raise them to hate normal wizards. Voldemort has threatened to unleash him upon people’s sons and daughters; it is a threat that usually produces good results.” Lupin paused and then said, “It was Greyback who bit me.” “What?” said Harry, astonished. “When — when you were a kid, you mean?” “Yes. My father had offended him. I did not know, for a very long time, the identity of the werewolf who had attacked me; I even felt pity for him, thinking that he had had no control, knowing by then how it felt to transform. But Greyback is not like that. At the full moon, he positions himself close to victims, ensuring that he is near enough to strike. He plans it all. And this is the man Voldemort is using to marshal the werewolves. I cannot pretend that my particular brand of reasoned argument is making much headway against Greyback’s insistence that we werewolves deserve blood, that we ought to revenge ourselves on normal people.”“But you are normal!” said Harry fiercely. “You’ve just got a — a problem —”Lupin burst out laughing. “Sometimes you remind me a lot of James. He called it my ‘furry little problem’ in company. Many people were under the impression that I owned a badly behaved rabbit.”

- Werewolves live so far that they are 'almost literally underground'. - They shun 'normal' society so hard that they distrust and outcast werewolves that don't. Cult-like. - 'It is hard to argue with Greyback out there' – it really is cult-like. More on that in Part 4. - Survival is difficult enough that they steal and even kill just to eat. Good luck out there, Remus. - It is possible that Remus couldn't write because having connections to wizards is frowned upon – but also that the average werewolf cannot read or write. Greyback bites children and raises them away from other Wizards... its doubtful they get a decent education. - Almost all werewolves are on Voldemorts side. Damn. More on that in Part 4 – but damn, they really are desperate. - At the moment, Voldemort has promised Greyback children to bite for his dream of overtaking healthy wizards. - Harry thinks of Remus as such a normal guy that him being a werewolf barely crosses his thoughts, unlike Hermione and most people in general. They see him as "Remus the Werewolf" rather than "Remus the DADA teacher who taught how to be brave" ... ... - Remus see's himself unequal to other wizards. This confuses the Harry. - Remus is bitter not at Albus for giving him the task – but that it is his lot in life. He wishes he didn't have to do it, didn't have to be around 'his equals', when they are so awful. - Remus is empathetic to other werewolves (even the one that bit him) because he understands well the lack of control and the pain. - He has less empathy for Greyback because he plans to hurt people. Control is important to him. - Remus thinks Harry's insistence that he is 'normal but with a problem' is endearing and funny. It is an unusual stance to take.

Chapter 22

pg 400 “What was the werewolf’s name?” said Harry quickly. “Well, the rumor is that it was that Fenrir Greyback,” said Hermione. “I knew it — the maniac who likes attacking kids, the one Lupin told me about!” said Harry angrily.

Even amongst werewolf hearsay and bad press Greyback is a maniac of a werewolf. Going out of the way to bite children is odd.

Chapter 29

pg 523/524 “We don’t yet know,” said Professor McGonagall, looking helplessly at Lupin.

Oh yeah, sure. Because all werewolves know everything about Lycanthropy. Nice one, Minnie. I'm joking – he really would be the expert in the room, a werewolf himself and someone with interest in magical creatures. :^)

pg 525 “You see!” said a strained voice. Tonks was glaring at Lupin. “She still wants to marry him, even though he’s been bitten! She doesn’t care!”“It’s different,” said Lupin, barely moving his lips and looking suddenly tense. “Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely —” pg 526 “And I’ve told you a million times,” said Lupin, refusing to meet her eyes, staring at the floor, “that I am too old for you, too poor... too dangerous...”“I’ve said all along you’re taking a ridiculous line on this, Remus,” said Mrs. Weasley over Fleur’s shoulder as she patted her on the back. “I am no being ridiculous,” said Lupin steadily. “Tonks deserves somebody young and whole.”“But she wants you,” said Mr. Weasley, with a small smile. “And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so.” He gestured sadly at his son, lying between them.“This is... not the moment to discuss it,” said Lupin, avoiding everybody’s eyes as he looked around distractedly. “Dumbledore is dead...”“Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world,” said Professor McGonagall curtly, just as the hospital doors opened again and Hagrid walked in.

Bill will be disfigured and contaminated – but the social stigma of that isn't as bad as someone with full Lycanthropy. The Weasleys – even Molly – are supportive of Remus, Arthur specifically pointing out that disability can happen to anyone. McGonagall's views probably mirror Albus' who has been nothing but supportive to Remus. However I think its clear by now that these views are not the norm. ... ... Alongside classism, ageism and believing himself dangerous – Remus is extremely aware of his social standing, doesn't wish to fight it and doesn't want to drag someone 'young and whole' with him. He see's himself as 'incomplete'. If that has some parallels to Umbridge's 'half-breed' comments – it's internalised speciesism as well as ableism: Half-breeds are not 'incomplete' people and he isn't even a half-breed. There is no way Remus would think less of Hagrid or Flitwick so it's bigotry saved for people like himself.

~~~ DEATHLY HALLOWS

Chapter 1 (Extremist Pureblood views – but they reflect a stronger version of larger societal views: Fudge tries to appease the masses, as does Rita Skeeter, with similar sentiments to these. Even the Weasley's have shown negative knee-jerk reactions to werewolves. I say this to keep in mind that while society at large wouldn't burst out laughing in mocking disgust at their family member marrying a werewolf... they still wouldn't think warmly of it.)

pg 13 “I’m talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud.” There was an eruption of jeering laughter from around the table. Many leaned forward to exchange gleeful looks; a few thumped the table with their fists. The great snake, disliking the disturbance, opened its mouth wide and hissed angrily, but the Death Eaters did not hear it, so jubilant were they at Bellatrix and the Malfoys’ humiliation.“She is no niece of ours, my Lord,” she cried over the outpouring of mirth. “We – Narcissa and I – have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she marries.” pg 14 “What say you, Draco?” asked Voldemort, and though his voice was quiet, it carried clearly through the catcalls and jeers. “Will you babysit the cubs?” … … “Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time,” he said as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring. “You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest.” “Yes, my Lord,” whispered Bellatrix, and her eyes swam with tears of gratitude again. “At the first chance!” “You shall have it,” said Voldemort. “And in your family, so in the world... we shall cut away the canker that infects us until only those of the true blood remain…”

Death Eaters think werewolves 'beasts' no matter their blood purity. They aren't even human anymore, their children – despite not being contaminated themselves – are regarded as 'cubs'. The thought of having someone 'contaminated' with Lycanthropy in the family is literally laughable. It is better to kill the diseased than wear the shame of mere association. Eugenics? In the Death Eaters? In Wizarding society generally? Gasp. What a shock. Chapter 5

Notes: Bellatrix want's Tonks dead as much as she want's Harry – because she married Remus.

pg 70 Tonks landed in a long skid that sent earth and pebbles everywhere. “Remus!” Tonks cried as she staggered off the broom into Lupin’s arms. His face was set and white: He seemed unable to speak. … … “So what kept you? What happened?” Lupin sounded almost angry at Tonks. “Bellatrix,” said Tonks. “She wants me quite as much as she wants Harry, Remus, she tried very hard to kill me. I just wish I’d got her, I owe Bellatrix. But we definitely injured Rodolphus... Then we got to Ron’s Auntie Muriel’s and we’d missed our Portkey and she was fussing over us –” … … A muscle was jumping in Lupin’s jaw. He nodded, but seemed unable to say anything else.

Cute. He was so stressed, so scared. My man can't express himself – he was scared he lost her... he's busting a blood vessel realizing how important she is to him.

Chapter 7

Notes: The Ministry is so anti-werewolf right now Remus, Tonks and maybe Arthur feel it would be better for everyone – especially Harry – for them to leave rather than be in the vicinity of the Minister.

pg 108/109 They all saw it at the same time: a streak of light that came flying across the yard and onto the table, where it resolved itself into a bright silver weasel, which stood on its hind legs and spoke with Mr. Weasley’s voice. “Minister of Magic coming with me.” The Patronus dissolved into thin air, leaving Fleur’s family peering in astonishment at the place where it had vanished. “We shouldn’t be here,” said Lupin at once. “Harry – I’m sorry – I’ll explain another time –”He seized Tonks’s wrist and pulled her away; they reached the fence, climbed over it, and vanished from sight. Mrs. Weasley looked bewildered.

Chapter 8

pg 123/124 “Arthur told us you were the one with the curly hair. Sorry about last night,” she added in a whisper as Harry led them up the aisle. “The Ministry’s being very anti-werewolf at the moment and we thought our presence might not do you any favors.”“It’s fine, I understand,” said Harry, speaking more to Lupin than Tonks. Lupin gave him a swift smile, but as they turned away, Harry saw Lupin’s face fall again into lines of misery. He did not understand it, but there was no time to dwell on the matter: Hagrid was causing a certain amount of disruption.

They all needed to be warned about the Minister – but I don't doubt some of that warning was for Remus. Arthur would know just how anti-werewolf the ministry had been... while Molly may not. It's so bad (and Tonks agrees with that assessment) that he scampered away over a fence. He willingly took Tonks with him and later looked miserable... he's probably found out she's pregnant.

Chapter 10

pg 157 On James’s left was Lupin, even then a little shabby-looking, but he had the same air of delighted surprise at finding himself liked and included... or was it simply because Harry knew how it had been, that he saw these things in the picture?

Chapter 11

Notes: Remus is extremely upset that he got Tonks pregnant – enough to regret marrying her at all. Association with him has made Tonks, and his child, outcasts – even to her own family. The treatment we see him get from Dumbledore's allies is far better than most, who won't even talk to 'creatures like him' – seeing him not as a 'Being' but a 'Beast'. It is so good he has come to expect being comforted rather than berated. Werewolves don't usually have kids, despite the condition not passing from parent to child. The stress of this entire situation has made him deranged and almost delusional. Baby is bad.

pg 185 “Remus,” said Hermione tentatively, “is everything all right... you know... between you and –” “Everything is fine, thank you,” said Lupin pointedly. Hermione turned pink. There was another pause, an awkward and embarrassed one, and then Lupin said, with an air of forcing himself to admit something unpleasant, “Tonks is going to have a baby.” “Oh, how wonderful!” squealed Hermione. “Excellent!” said Ron enthusiastically. “Congratulations,” said Harry. Lupin gave an artificial smile that was more like a grimace, then said, “So... do you accept my offer? Will three become four? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe that we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined.” … … “Well,” said Harry slowly, “I’m not. I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually.” Lupin’s face drained of color. The temperature in the kitchen might have dropped ten degrees.

Remus is only just holding back his disdain for 'making a young and whole woman have his cubs'. He feels so bad that he wants to go and do something useful and good. Something that makes him feel Dumbledore's positive belief in him again. 'Will three become four'... he is desperate for it, pushing the point as their 'teacher' – he needs to be reckless to distract from his reality. Again. Hiding your condition to get an education...? Go on walkabouts you know are bad. Awesome job with Dumbledores support...? Go make every bad decision in PoA. Got someone pregnant...? Go help the kids with the biggest target on their back.

pg 186/187 “You don’t understand,” said Lupin at last. “Explain, then,” said Harry. Lupin swallowed. “I – I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and I have regretted it very much ever since.” “I see,” said Harry, “so you’re just going to dump her and the kid and run off with us?”Lupin sprang to his feet: His chair toppled over backward, and he glared at them so fiercely that Harry saw, for the first time ever, the shadow of the wolf upon his human face.“Don’t you understand what I’ve done to my wife and my unborn child? I should never have married her, I’ve made her an outcast!” Lupin kicked aside the chair he had overturned. “You have only ever seen me amongst the Order, or under Dumbledore’s protection at Hogwarts! You don’t know how most of the Wizarding world sees creatures like me! When they know of my affliction, they can barely talk to me! Don’t you see what I’ve done? Even her own family is disgusted by our marriage, what parents want their only daughter to marry a werewolf? And the child – the child –”Lupin actually seized handfuls of his own hair; he looked quite deranged. “My kind don’t usually breed! It will be like me, I am convinced of it – how can I forgive myself, when I knowingly risked passing on my own condition to an innocent child? And if, by some miracle, it is not like me, then it will be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed!” “Remus!” whispered Hermione, tears in her eyes. “Don’t say that – how could any child be ashamed of you?” “Oh, I don’t know, Hermione,” said Harry. “I’d be pretty ashamed of him.” Harry did not know where his rage was coming from, but it had propelled him to his feet too. Lupin looked as though Harry had hit him.“If the new regime thinks Muggle-borns are bad,” Harry said, “what will they do to a half-werewolf whose father’s in the Order? My father died trying to protect my mother and me, and you reckon he’d tell you to abandon your kid to go on an adventure with us?” “How – how dare you?” said Lupin. “This is not about a desire for – for danger or personal glory – how dare you suggest such a –”“I think you’re feeling a bit of a daredevil,” Harry said. “You fancy stepping into Sirius’s shoes –” “Harry, no!” Hermione begged him, but he continued to glare into Lupin’s livid face. “I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors – a coward.”Lupin drew his wand so fast that Harry had barely reached for his own; there was a loud bang and he felt himself flying backward as if punched; as he slammed into the kitchen wall and slid to the floor, he glimpsed the tail of Lupin’s cloak disappearing around the door. “Remus, Remus, come back!” Hermione cried, but Lupin did not respond. A moment later they heard the front door slam.

- Remus believes marrying Tonks was a mistake – because just the act of marrying her has made her, and their child, outcasts. - 'Her own family is disgusted' as if her family's values are worthwhile. - He is treated the best by Dumbledore's people. - 'My kind don't usually breed' he is a wizard. He is a human being with Lycanthropy. Others with Lycanthropy may rarely have children due to social stigma – but the language he is using... yeesh. - The condition is not passed from father to child, but Remus is convinced it will, that he has ruined everything and everyone forever... he's deranged and upset about it. - Believes his son will be ashamed of him for being a werewolf. He is better off out of his life. - Despite this deep belief he is shameful – hearing it from Harry still hurts like a hit. He is used to being comforted. - Harry insinuates 'half-werewolf' (I don't think he believes this term himself) with an Order father is worse even than being muggle-born. (He also says he should be prepared to die for his family like James did, which I don't agree with, but he is making a point so I'll let him cook.) - Remus says he isn't doing this for glory – and he is mostly truthful. He messed up so he is running away from home before people can yell at him. He wants to be useful instead. - Harry likens him to Sirius: stifled, near-suicidal, itching to do anything to help – which is apt. He call's Remus a coward and he gets so angry he lashes out and runs away because he can't deny that. Chapter 24

pg 421/422 “You buried the elf,” he said, sounding unexpectedly rancorous. “I watched you from the window of the bedroom next door.” “Yes,” said Harry. Griphook looked at him out of the corners of his slanting black eyes.“You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter.” “In what way?” asked Harry, rubbing his scar absently. “You dug the grave.” “So?” Griphook did not answer. Harry rather thought he was being sneered at for acting like a Muggle, but it did not much matter to him whether Griphook approved of Dobby’s grave or not. He gathered himself for the attack. “Griphook, I need to ask –” “You also rescued a goblin.” “What?” “You brought me here. Saved me.” “Well, I take it you’re not sorry?” said Harry a little impatiently. “No, Harry Potter,” said Griphook, and with one finger he twisted the thin black beard upon his chin, “but you are a very odd wizard.”

Werewolves are wizards – not House-Elves or Goblins. However we see them called beasts, half-bloods - regarded as 'less than human'. This makes Griphooks view on Wizards... interesting. He thinks Harry is a strangely kind wizard for saving his life, and giving a House-Elf respect. The bar is set extremely low when it comes to the treatment of fellow Beings, it seems. I wonder: are unloved werewolves given graves...?

Chapter 25

pg 446 “It is I, Remus John Lupin!” called a voice over the howling wind. Harry experienced a thrill of fear; what had happened? “I am a werewolf, married to Nymphadora Tonks, and you, the Secret-Keeper of Shell Cottage, told me the address and bade me come in an emergency!”“Lupin,” muttered Bill, and he ran to the door and wrenched it open. Lupin fell over the threshold. He was white-faced, wrapped in a traveling cloak, his graying hair windswept. He straightened up, looked around the room, making sure of who was there, then cried aloud, “It’s a boy! We’ve named him Ted, after Dora’s father!” pg 447 “I can’t stay long, I must get back,” said Lupin, beaming around at them all: He looked years younger than Harry had ever seen him.

His traveling cloak isn't shabby :'( how very OOC of him Love that his joy for his son being born is an 'emergency'.

Chapter 33

pg 578 “What’s Potter got to do with anything?” said Lily. “They sneak out at night. There’s something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?”“He’s ill,” said Lily. “They say he’s ill –”“Every month at the full moon?” said Snape. “I know your theory,” said Lily, and she sounded cold. “Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they’re doing at night?” “I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are.” The intensity of his gaze made her blush.

A theory, a suggestion, of Lycanthropy is dire – enough to make a muggleborn react strongly on behalf of someone else. 'Trying to show you they're not as wonderful' – just because Remus has Lycanthropy, and the others shelter that, they are all bad.

~~~ SUMMARY OF THIS PART:

Lycanthropy is a dirty topic. Regardless of who is nearby - you lower your voice when speaking about it. People do not joke around with the topic of werewolves. It is not to be taken lightly - accusations are serious. Remus is upset even when his friends joke about his condition or treat it lightly.

Pureblood Supremacists regard werewolves as 'beasts' rather than people, no matter their blood purity. Lycanthropy has ruined them, even their potential children will be 'cubs' - they are better off dead. To be associated with such an 'animal' in any way other than as a servant is ridiculously tragic and shameful.

While slightly less extreme: regular society reflects these values.

They might not think of werewolves as 'beasts' but they certainly don't regard them as 'normal people'. They are thought of as dangerous by nature, untrustworthy - likened to half-giants, murderers and the mentally ill... called 'half-breeds' despite not being half anything. Just being bitten could be enough to have you disowned from your family and friends.

Even those who are more sympathetic can be guarded, likening them more to non-human beings or part-humans than accepting them as fully human. They are potentially less accepted than Vampires.

At school students learn how to identify werewolves as creatures like hinkeypunks and kappa. There are laws segregating people with Lycanthropy, preventing them from working almost entirely. Being seen associating with a werewolf by the Ministry will reflect negatively on you. They are truly pariahs. It seems the only kindness in society is within hospitals - where Healers will still care for them and might have facilities to support them... at least when first bitten, while they are seen as a tragedy.

It is shocking to a Goblin to even have his life saved, or to see a House-Elf given a funeral - and both of those species at least are not 'dangerous' and have a place, a role, within society (though narrow and without many rights or freedoms). Werewolves have nothing. They are segregated, feared, thought of as animals - most people won't even speak to them. Being bitten has taken some of their humanity away in their eyes. It's unsurprising that most werewolves live outside of society, so far out that stealing and killing is sometimes necessary for survival. That perpetuates negative stereotypes... but changing minds is not the popular argument:

Fenrir Greyback might be considered a maniac even amongst those who already distrust werewolves - but he is king. He bites children, takes them from their parents and raises them to believe they deserve revenge - they will one day overtake 'normal' society and Lord Voldemort will help them get there. It is cult-like in the way they shun even other werewolves if they have had any contact with, or were raised by, 'normal' society. Considering Fenrir's victims are taken from their parents when young - and no werewolves go to Hogwarts - it's likely most werewolves aren't well educated... which makes it difficult for Remus to fit in.

Remus was lucky to have been one of Fenrir's early bites, before he was a household name, before he snatched kids away. He grew up in 'normal' society with loving parents... but it isn't enough to escape poverty. He struggles to find work. His clothes are shabby, frayed, threadbare, ragged - he darns and patches them himself. … … Remus doesn't expect to ever fit in. He will have to sneak around forever, sticking to the edges of society, trying to never give anyone reason to suspect him so he can at least enjoy some politeness. Even that is more than he deserves.

While he does believe those like him, who try not to cause trouble, are worth a little more credit - Lycanthropy is still a black mark he can never wash off. He accepts people won't like him as a fact of life.

He relishes positive attention. He is pleased when his student's don't want to do their werewolf essay. He cancels it - he might have even been holding them back to avoid having to teach it.

Despite believing himself shameful - having Harry agree rather than comforting him made him flinch like he was hit. Harry's opinion means a lot to him. Dumbledore has always been kind to him - and he has just about dedicated his life to him in return.

Severus supplying him with Wolfsbane without messing with it to weaken him is, to him, an extreme kindness he has nothing but gratitude for... while outing him as a werewolf was deserved.

Remus see's himself as unequal to other Wizards. Any positivity aimed at him is an undeserved gift. Harry's insistence he is 'normal' with a 'problem' is appreciated but seen as naive. All his mistakes or failures are confirmation that he is dangerous, weak willed, disgusting by nature.

The biggest mistake of his life was marrying Tonks and having a child - because he will ruin them. He brings them shame, everyone will be disgusted with them just by association with him - and they are better off without him in their life. Similar to Pureblood belief.

He doesn't think fighting for his rights or better treatment is a worthwhile endeavour. He buys into the classism, ableism and speciesism that has been thrown against him - at least a little. He might not think part-humans are less-than-human - but he considers himself un-whole. He may not look down on others for their poverty or their physical issues but he looks down on himself.

However he believes himself a little better than other werewolves: He is bitter they are 'his kind', his 'equals'... because living with them, trying to fit in, he is more 'wizard' than they are. He does have some pride and empathy for other werewolves that, like him, 'try to be good': he is angry that laws have made it harder for the werewolves that are part of 'normal society' to get work. He is upset that Greyback has been biting and raising young kids to his side - putting them in a position where they must steal and even kill to survive.

He may have strong feelings on the Dementors Kiss as a punishment - perhaps due to it being something he may be subjected to easier than other people.

He goes and spends time with a lonely man in hospital, freshly bitten. In his mind these people, like himself, are ruined, part of their humanity stripped from them.

They are no longer 'whole'.

[shark-myths]

tell me more about the writing class!

I would loving nothing more!

so my long-time writing crush @alienfuckeronmain (seriously, we became pairing rivals in a now-deceased fandom more than 20 years ago) runs an amazing writing class annually. It is fully virtual and recorded, so you can attend synchronously (I recommend this because the Q&A after the lecture is invaluable!) or whenever works best for you. It focuses on writing as a LIFESTYLE, something sustainable and full of joy, healing the productivity/perfection trauma many of us come to associate with the craft. it focuses not on sharing and critiquing writing but on how to support yourself and your life so that you can DO it, for fun and for love, in a way that works for you. it is such a healthy and beautiful approach to my favorite thing in the world, I highly recommend the course. The website is here and the instagram account, bloodinkbonewriting, also has a lot of info and promo material. Phoenix herself is an incredible talent with some recently published books I highly recommend. She’s most famous for being canceled in various fandoms, writing the finest one direction fic you can imagine, being the master of dead dove and fucked-up dynamics, and of course, humanized Cars fic.

self-disclosure / soapbox time: I work as a psychologist, and I so frequently encounter grown-ass adults who made all the right choices. They put away ‘childish’ things like hobbies and passion and silliness and intensity, they prioritized all the values our culture prizes, and they end up feeling so fucking empty and bleak. I constantly connect to gratitude about my daily writing practice, about my relentless and unprofitable pursuit of writing for joy. I have been writing rpf since I was thirteen years old. I thought I *invented* it and would certainly go to hell for my ingenuity. And it is the richest part of my life. I meet all the best people this way. I love who I am and the way I live because of being connected to art and community—a community of transformative work and creativity and passion, of screeching about our favorite things without self-consciousness or self-erasure. I genuinely believe this is the best part of my self and life. (except for my cats.) and when I encounter the dullness and misery of a life at the grindstone, I know beyond doubt that writing and fandom are my #1 protective factor. They are the reason I don’t feel that burned out and hollow way about my good, good life.

if you do one thing for yourself, find a way to create and connect joyfully and without the evaluative eye of others upon you. and if you have lost the way to doing that with writing because of the world we live in or, worse, the educational system and endless pressure to make your art profitable—blood ink bone has my highest recommendation as a gentle way to recover that path within yourself!

[saytrrose]

Im exposing my name but i dont even care at this point, I woke up this morning to my friends calling me, and telling me to look outside and I just- I remember all through out elementary school and middle school and even high school, my whole entire life I’ve never really had friends save for 1 or 2 for a small while, constantly changing and the exception of a online friend every once in awhile. I remember sitting alone at lunch everyday with my earbuds and just drawing, I remember going all day without speaking and opening my mouth even once, I remember never feeling seen at all and this morning my friends, my group of friends I met once I finally got to college called me, woke me up this morning and asked me to look out the window and so I did, crawled to my window from my room and opened the blinds, opened the screen and I cried, as soon as I did they all yelled happy early birthday up to me, and I started crying I swear, I love them so much. And it started snowing today, I haven’t seen snow in years and my birthday is tomorrow, and my classes got cancelled for my bday, my friends bought me cake mix we will all make together, one of them is making me caramel brownies with walnuts in them and crocheting my ESA a little sweater, I swear I just, I cried a little before running down there to meet them but I love them so much and idk maybe it does get better.

[fairyminnie444]

hii! i hope ur slaying today diva

i have a question but omg it's so embarrassing

so likeee i've said this before on here but im manifesting my sp (ik time isn't important, but it started in summer 2024) and here's my thing right. i've manifested sooo many things before which felt impossible. i've manifested an 100% in a class which i NEVER attended, i manifested me not getting in trouble by my parents, ive manifested people thinking im cute n shit, and i know it's easy. i know all u have to do is saturate ur mine, assume it's true, persist, all that good shit. but i just feel like with this stupid manifestation of my sp like it's harder. and i know it isn't, every manifestation is easy and ik im a good manifester but idk why im like struggling with this one. it's the same ass concept but i've wavered so much that it's taken so long. do u have any advice u can give me pls? it's like pissing me off, not cus of how long it's been but the fact that i feel like it's hard and impossible and idk why i feel like that

also another question sorry ik that one was long, but does it matter if i have thoughts about other ppl while manifesting my sp? ik the 3D doesn't matter, so ive been talking to sum ppl like on a romantic type of timing jus cus im bored, but if i like daydream ab them or like think ab them like "omg when r we gonna hang/when r they gonna text me" idk sum shit like that do u think that matters? SORRY IF I WORDED IT IN A CONFUSING WAY BUT I HOPE U UNDERSTAND WHAT IM SAYING

and thank u sooo much i rly love ur blog:)

Hiiii <3

I get what you’re saying. Manifesting your SP might feel harder because you’re emotionally invested and probably overthinking it, which creates unnecessary resistance. The good thing is, you already know the process works, your past manifestations prove that.

Shift your perspective:

Stop Putting Your SP on a Pedestal

You’ve manifested people thinking you’re cute and other things with ease because you likely didn’t view those as “big” or emotionally loaded. Start seeing your SP the same way: just another part of your reality that’s already yours.

Detach from the “How” and the “When”

The reason this feels harder is likely because you’re too focused on when and how it’s going to happen. Remind yourself: the moment you assume it, it’s done. Shift your focus to enjoying your life, knowing it’s already unfolding perfectly.

Check Your Inner Conversations

Are you constantly worrying, doubting, or imagining scenarios where it doesn’t work out? Replace those inner conversations with affirmations like:

• “They’re already mine.”

• “This is the easiest thing I’ve ever manifested.”

• “I love how natural this feels.”

Drop the Struggle Story

Right now, you’ve got a narrative that this manifestation is “hard” or “different.” Let that go. The only reason it feels harder is because you’re telling yourself it is. Flip that narrative:

• “This is just as easy as everything else I’ve manifested.”

• “It’s already mine, and I love how effortlessly it came to me.”

Self-Concept

Sometimes SP manifestations feel tough because you’re relying on them to validate you. Shift that focus inward:

• “I am chosen and loved effortlessly.”

• “I’m the operant power in my reality; everything conforms to me.”

It’s not about forcing anything. You’ve already done it before, and this is no different. Relax, persist in the assumption, and know it’s already yours.

And It’s fine to think about or interact with others while manifesting your SP, it doesn’t cancel your manifestation. What matters is your dominant state of knowing your SP is already yours. Enjoy the interactions without guilt and stay anchored in the end. As long as you persist, you’re on track.

And tysm 🩷

[untamellama]

I slept at five in the morning and then gave a quiz and then had coffee then was informed that the later classes were canceled and then after tossing and turning in bed for quite some time, i finally fell asleep and in that brief slumber, i had a crazy severance dream and i can attest to the fact that being severed is a horror story.

So, in the dream, i was a severed employee working on some paperwork. The perspective is primarily innie. There was a lot of filing. I was in a team of about 7 to 8 people. I'm was sorta the second in command. Milchick (he's severed, so the character looks like him, with similar vibes) was the first in command. I am not on a severed floor, tho, as in it's not a weirdly spacious basement with no windows, but instead, it has windows and all that, but everything is locked. The place has a giant fancy warehouse vibe about it.

Okay, so at the start, I'm very nervous and feeling guiltish, like the feeling you get as a child when you are voinv behind your parent's back and doing some shit and you are just constantly shitting bricks about whether you'll get caught. Soon, from a conversation with a fellow worker, i learn that I've been recently introduced to a resistance like movement that's about asking questions and figuring out what lumon really does and what our outies are like and all that, sorta like what's happening in the show, but in the dream, it was a huge community of innies. It's a bigger network and so much more organized. Anywho, I'm always nervous about this and someone in a Cobel/Milchick-from-show position (unsevered lumon raised cult person?) asks me a sus question about it and I'm very nervous now and very anxious to prove that I'm not associated with the resistance and all kier is god. Before i can answer and am stumped for a bit, this person gets called out of the room. Milchick, who's been observing the entire exchange, figures out what's up and asks, "How long?' And i don't answer, and he goes.'You better be careful because i have gone a long time, and it's not a pretty path.' He says like a positively insane person, starting with the restrain in the mirror-paperclip scene and ending with an abandon that's weirdly artistic like the dance scene (whut???). After saying this, he runs out and in a meeting area kinda place for the innies, where there are currently quite some innies, he starts screaming about the resistance and how lumon is evil and all that, and this is when i know I'm fucked. Coz this is a critical moment for me - 1. From lumon, to show the superviser (cobel person) that im not associated with the resistance, by shutting milchick up coz the first in command has gone off the rails, the duty directly lands on second in command, me and my response to this situation will be under much scrutiny. 2. From the resistance, how i treat milchick will show all the others in the common area whether i could be entrusted with the more sensitive resistance info. So I'm again, shitting bricks. ( Beyond that, there is a certain anger towards the entire situation, coz i needn't have to be here, my outie put me here. And i exist for just this. It's completely avoidable. ) So, after a few moments of shock, i recover and yells at milchick to be silent "as one mustn't destroy the peace at a common area with such slander." I think i passed the test, coz i saw the person who introduced me to the resistance kinda bow their head a little in my direction. Similarly, the supervisor, cobel person, didn't bother me anymore.

I'll tell the rest after class, coz now i have a class.

[ilysungho]

I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF GETTING BACK TO YOU WHEN I GOT A NOTIFICATION FOR YOUR LATEST POST.

THAT SNIPPET????? I'M FERAL NOW.

I NEED THAT RELEASED AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, I SWEAR I'M GOING CRAZY. I WANNA KISS YOUR BRAIN AS A SIGN OF MY GRATITUDE FOR CONSTANTLY CREASTING MASTERPIECE SCENARIOS.

ALSO, i'm so sorry to hear that you're on your period, is it just me or lately having them has become even more insufferable than before? mine ended a few days ago and i'm so beyond thankful 'cause i was about to rip my hair off of my scalp. (also, i find it so funny that you mention periods because while i was on mine i was thinking of sending an ask about period sex with one of the bnds but ultimately decided against it 'cause i don't wanna fill your inbox)

BUT THAT SHIRT SOUND SO CUTE, wearing cute stuff is always such a mood uplifter.

to be completely honest, i'm feeling awful 'cause last night i got sick and now i have a full on cold, which means i have to miss rehearsals for a play i'm in and that makes me so sad. </3

hopefully i'll feel better tomorrow tho.

— ⭐️

giggling so bad IT’S COMINGGGGG FINALLY!!!!!!! i kid you not this has been in my drafts since DECEMBER 😭 finally letting my baby out into the world i’m so hyped for it omg 🥹 and honestly. i’m gonna be so honest. i was out of it before but now im IN IT! this period isn’t gonna stop me from being at my absolute best (can you tell something great happened? my professor cancelled all classes until exam day for my least fav class I CHEERED!)! but omg YES idk why but it’s been especially terrible these past couple times it’s happened but it’s whatever, we just gotta keep rolling on 🙂‍↕️ also omg SEND IT!!! it would’ve been the perfect time if you did im giggling 🤭 and yessss it’s such a silly shirt, i love it 😭 i can post a pic or something of it if you wanna see LOL but omg :( i hope you’ve feel better soon sweetheart :( colds actually suck SO BAD i’m hoping it goes away super soon </3 take care love 💗

[luna-misera]

Hi, first of all I'm a big fan of your writing and I hope you're doing well ! I have a bit of an emergency request for you if you don't mind (it's alright if you're not feeling like doing it cause it's kind of a lot, just ignore the ask lmao) also sorry if my English sucks here, I'm kind of a mess and it's not my first language :')

I've been feeling extremely overwhelmed by everything recently (visiting my parents, a lot of papers to fill for healthcare/taxes, prep class assignments, being deadnamed on all my official documents and by my family, having a meltdown) and now to top it off my train to go back home and be able to work has just been cancelled. And of course my parents are having a party this evening and of course everyone is loud as fuck. I probably won't be able to go back home and attend my classes until Monday or Tuesday and it terrifies me. I have so much on my plate rn, I just want copia to hold me and the rest of the world to burst in flames at this point. Long story short, that would be very cool if you could write hcs for how copia would comfort a gn s/o that's in a similar situation :)

take care !!

Hello my little ghoul friend! Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm very glad to hear you like my writing! Also, I'm sorry to hear you're having such a hard time lately. Personally, I have also felt overwhelmed by everything going on in my own life, so I totally understand what you're going through.

Remember to take care of yourself, and take things one day at a time! Try not to stress about things outside of your control, but focus on what you can accomplish each day! Be proud of how far you've come and what you have already accomplished! I know Papa would be.

Copia Comfort HCs (Copia x GN!Reader)

Warning(s): None

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

• Honestly, when you're stressed Copia is also stressed. He will do whatever he can to help you out, but he worries about you.

• If he can't complete any tasks for you, then he will be there with you every step of the way.

• He makes sure you're eating/drinking, and taking breaks.

• If he can't be by your side, Copia will send you texts throughout the day to check in, offer encouragement, and just to tell you how much he loves you!

• Copia is 100% supportive of your pronouns, and your name change. If you're open to the idea, he will absolutely help kickstart the process of a legal name change so you don't have to see it on official documents. Or he will handle them himself when possible.

• If the problem persists, then he will go to the main office himself to resolve the issue.

• However, when it comes to your own family deliberately dead naming you, then they'll find Copia can be very persuasive.

• He will politely (but firmly) remind them of your preferred name, and explain how deadnaming can be harmful.

• If they refuse to see reason and continue to disrespect you, then he will remove you from that toxic situation immediately.

• Copia is always there to support you with unconditional love and understanding.

• He constantly reminds you that your identity is valid and that you matter.

• He never wants you to feel alone especially when you need him most, and he is always there to be a shoulder to cry on or to listen to you vent.

• Meltdowns happen. That's ok! Copia takes you aside somewhere quiet where you can be alone, and holds you tight while you get it all out of your system.

• He rubs your back and comforts you until you feel better. Then, he asks how he can help you with whatever is stressing you out.

• Sometimes all you need is a hug, and of course he's willing to provide.

• Copia hugs you for as long as you need him to and maybe a little longer... just to be safe.

• He would absolutely burn everything to the ground for you, but maybe start with a warm drink and some cuddles first? Then see how you feel later.

• After that, if you're still hoping for worldwide devastation Copia has you covered.

[levieske]

(𝟐) 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐞

In which Yuji Itadori accidentally spoils Hana Akiwara’s plans by ingesting Sukuna’s finger, and Satoru Gojo is constantly humbled as a result.

satoru gojo x ofc x suguru geto

[ canon divergence, fix-it au, everybody lives, no kenjaku, no shibuya incident, jjk s1, slow-burn, aged-up characters, age gap, questionable relationships, mentor-student relationships, unresolved sexual tension, more mature and graphic in future chapters, crack heavy for now, tvd references if you squint ]

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Satoru wasted no time in looking for the runaway curse user, undoing his blindfold as he warped out of the warehouse. Much to his dismay, the curse user was gone and, if there was a trace of cursed energy, it was as scarce as it had been back inside. Not enough to track her down. The sorcerer sighed and warped to where his students were located. Grabbing them by the uniforms, Gojo teleported the four of them to Ijichi.

The assistant jumped on his seat inside the vehicle, but didn’t dare to get out as Satoru gave him one of his sweet and deadly smiles. The teacher focused his attention back on his students, who wore different varying degrees of confusion on their faces. They stared back at him with a disoriented and almost nauseous look, all thanks to the encounter with the curse user and his warping. Yuji seemed more anxious than the rest, understandably so.

The vessel felt a characteristic tingle on his cheek, followed by Sukuna’s laugh. “I didn’t think those were still around! She made you look like a fool, Gojo.” His voice roared loud and clear and the other three sorcerers glanced in his direction. “You’d better get that finger back, brat. I can’t stand dull copies.”

The curse retreated to the depths of his vessel after his ominous demand. Itadori’s face was devoid of any color. He avoided looking up, choosing instead to stare back at the abandoned building.

“Yuji,” Gojo’s voice caught his attention, “you recognized the curse user. How do you know her?”

“I… I don’t understand.” The pink-haired boy stumbled to find the right words. “We went to class together, at Sugisawa. I never knew she was a curse user. She didn’t…”

He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. He felt a surge of emotions, from confusion to anger to guilt. He had met Hana Akiwara at the beginning of March, a little over two months ago, when Yuji started his Bachelor’s Degree in Film Studies. After having been paired in a project, Yuji got to know her better. He learnt that Hana was a foreigner from the States, despite her very japanese appearance and accent. She was a quiet girl in his class that had been held back two years, making her 20. It was something he could never comprehend as she seemed very studious and always helped Itadori and their friends when needed. She even joined their occult club to avoid it getting canceled. Akiwara and him had spent countless movie nights at his house and she even gave him free pastries from the coffee shop she worked at. He’d like to believe he knew her well, but this changed everything.

How could she be in any shape or form connected to jujutsu? Was Hana, too, possessed by Sukuna?

“She wasn’t, idiot. How would I manifest into two bodies at the same time?” Sukuna’s comment inside his mind made him sigh.

The last time Itadori had seen Akiwara was the day he ate Sukuna’s finger and she didn’t seem to notice anything off about him. He met her at the hospital after telling her about Iguchi and Sasaki. Yuji remembered lying his ass off to explain what had happened to them when Hana asked him. She didn’t press him for more information or anything weird. It was pure luck she hadn’t seen Gojo and Fushiguro, just as it had been that they had met now.

Itadori felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up. It was Gojo.

“Yuji, relax a bit.” His voice was calm but stern. “I need you to tell me as much as you know about her, but first,” Satoru dropped his hand from his shoulder and turned to the rest of his students, “we’re going to that bakery I mentioned earlier. I’ll let Ijichi know and we’ll report this afterwards.”

The teacher’s words did nothing to calm the nervous turmoil Yuji had turned into, but he swallowed hard and nodded nonetheless. In what felt like a blink to him, the four sorcerers arrived at the bakery shop and sat down. While Gojo ordered at the counter, the pink-haired boy sorted out his thoughts. He stared through the window, watching people pass by, as Megumi and Nobara exchanged a worried look.

“She’s the girl you told me about, right?” Fushiguro’s voice drew his attention back to his classmates, who were sitting in front of him.

Itadori felt a warm sensation on his cheeks, not caused by the annoying curse living inside of him this time. He nodded. The embarrassment kept him from being able to make eye contact, focusing instead on the black spikes of Megumi’s hair. Yuji sometimes wondered if that was his natural hair texture or if he, perhaps, styled it every morning. The mental image of his cranky classmate flat ironing his hair made him chuckle.

Before he could elaborate on his answer, their teacher got to their table and placed the items he had purchased. There were many different types of sweets and four cups of tea. Yuji smiled at Gojo before getting to the point at hand.

Gojo could have taken him to the school grounds as soon as they left the warehouse to interrogate him, but he didn’t. Fushiguro would always complain about his overprotective irritating behavior, but Itadori was very grateful to be under his care. He was a frustrating teacher, but a good one, and he wasn’t going to doubt that ever.

Yuji started speaking about how he met Hana and what their friendship looked like. The afternoons they shared working on projects, how those afternoons turned into movie nights, and the times she made him pancakes for breakfast. Well, the one time she made him pancakes. It just happened once, but Yuji cherished that memory. And the taste of those pancakes.

The pink-haired boy took a break from talking about her friend to grab a bite of whatever sweets Gojo had bought them. The teacher had rested his head on his hand once Yuji went down the rabbit hole, smiling softly. Nobara was frowning and Megumi was speechless.

“Anything else? Something besides your friendship?” The white-haired sorcerer asked as Yuji finished eating, getting a hold of the sweets for himself.

“Oh, yeah…” The boy nodded several times. “Hana Akiwara. She's 20 years old and she has a twin brother, Kei… Ken something? She lives with him in Kichijoji, but their family is in the States.” The other three sorcerers looked at him expectantly. “We haven’t been in touch since last week. Last time I saw her was when I told her about what happened to our other friends, she didn’t seem to notice anything.”

Itadori went quiet for a little bit. Now that he thought about it…

“Mmmm… She was the one that gave my friends the idea to unseal the finger.”

“What?!” Both Megumi and Nobara exclaimed in disbelief, attracting the attention of other customers from the bakery.

“I’m sure she was joking! She wasn’t even there when they did it.” Yuji was quick to back her up, gesturing with his hands.

Yuji bit his lip, feeling torn.

Gojo sighed and rubbed his chin, straightening his back. He looked at the vessel with a serious expression. “I think Hana intended to keep the finger that you ate, Yuji.”

“No, that's not true.” The boy shook his head, a sinking feeling setting in his stomach as he tried to deny the accusations. “Why would she?”

“Because she had the one we were supposed to get just now.” Kugisaki deadpanned. Fushiguro also gave him a skeptical look, making Itadori shrink on his seat, defeated.

“She is a good person. She wouldn’t have put our friends in danger just because.” Itadori felt himself getting upset as he tried to reason. Hana was no villain. He took a deep breath, tightening his fists under the table. “Why can’t there be good curse users? Why does she have to be “evil”?”

Gojo exhaled at the pink-haired boy’s questions, trying to find the right words to explain himself.

“Curse users are sorcerers who operate outside of the school’s autAkiwaraty. This doesn’t automatically make them evil but-” Satoru gestured with the fork he was holding. “What I’m trying to say it’s that they can be a little bit troublesome. Not for me, of course.” He flashed Yuji one of his signature smiles and the boy nodded. Megumi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “We can’t be certain she isn’t a threat with the information we just have, Yuji. What we do know is that she might be able to copy any technique or, at least, mimic her opponent’s attacks.”

Yuji understood she was quite powerful, as dangerous as she was unknown, but he refused to believe there was any malice in her. He didn’t believe for a second that sweet, helpful and quiet Hana was an evil mastermind. It just didn’t make sense.

“So what if she has a strong technique? What has she done to be labeled as a crime?”

Itadori knew he was just talking for the sake of defending her, but it didn’t mean he had to be right about it. 

“She also seemed to be channeling Sukuna’s finger.” He instantly frowned at Kugisaki’s observation. The redhead just raised her eyebrows in response. Itadori didn’t want to dwell on her reaction.

“That and the fact that he knew her technique.” Fushiguro added, which, to be fair, didn’t look good but it didn’t necessarily mean Hana was somehow connected to Sukuna, right? “Do you think he’ll tell us anything else about it?”

Itadori opened and closed his mouth a few times, but before he could muster something, Sukuna spoke for him.

“I’m not telling you shit.” The King of Curses sounded both annoyed and amused at the same time, which was something everyone expected.

Why would he help them?

“Well, that answers your question.” Gojo smiled as he heard Sukuna’s refusal. “I think I’ve read something about that technique, though. It feels oddly familiar.”

He looked at Yuji through his blindfold, his gaze turning firm and serious. “I’d like to have a little chat with her before getting the school involved, okay? We’re going to keep this quiet for now.”

Yuji lowered his head, overwhelmed by the situation. His classmates’ responses sounded muffled, drowned out by the chatter of the busy bakery shop. He felt his world had been turned upside down twice in less than two weeks. He had to drop out of his dream college after getting involved in the jujutsu world on the same day his grandfather died, and now the girl he believed to be a close friend of his is a wanted curse user.

Fantastic.

Yuji had a feeling that he would have ended up in the jujutsu world regardless if he had or hadn’t eaten Sukuna’s finger. Something he felt had to do with meeting Hana.

“Let me help. Please.” Yuji pleaded. There had to be some sort of explanation, he was sure about that. “I need to talk to her.”

“I know this is difficult for you, I really do. But I have the responsibility to protect you and the others.” Gojo’s voice was stern and clear as he spoke. Yuji was too compassionate for his own good. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with, so I need you to promise me that you won’t let your feelings get in the way if things go south. Can you do that for me?”

Itadori hesitated, making a grimace. He didn’t believe for a second that sweet, helpful and quiet Hana was an evil mastermind, but he also knew that Gojo had a point. He had to be prepared for the worst, just in case. He wished his teacher would give her the same chance he got, that he’d see the good in her as he did in Yuji. 

“I promise, Gojo.” Itadori nodded slowly.

“Good. I’m glad to hear that.” The teacher patted his shoulder and gave him a smile. “Don’t worry too much about it for now. Let’s focus on how to find her.” Itadori nodded again as Gojo continued talking. “You mentioned she worked at a café, right?”

˖ ⁺ ‧ ₊ ˚  ♡  ˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ˖

Some days later, Yuji’s wonderful plan was put into action. It was pretty simple, really. He just texted Hana as if nothing had happened and asked her to meet up. And it somehow worked out…

Hana sighed after hearing the doorbell of the café ring. She left the rag she was using to scrub the counter and undid her apron before turning towards Yuji Itadori. He awkwardly waited by the door, as he took a look around.

Hana’s workplace was a cozy coffee shop located some streets away from her house. The white brick walls reflected the warm lights that hung from the ceiling , contrasting with the dark and minimalistic decor. The smell of coffee and baked goods filled Itadori’s nostrils, reminding him of the last time he had been there. Back when everything was normal. He recognized the set of brown leather booths next to the big windows and the white, L-shaped counter Hana had been cleaning just a few seconds ago.

The curse-user was wearing her work uniform and had her hair tied in a braid as usual. She left the apron on a stool as she walked towards him.

To her, Yuji looked the same as she remembered. Pink fluffy hair, colorful hoodie, jeans and his signature sneakers. Hana was glad he hadn’t come in the school’s uniform, but she had to admit there was something nudging her head. His cursed energy.

She was pretty confident in the fact that it wasn’t there before. Yuji didn’t have any cursed energy last time she checked. But it was pretty much there, oozing around him in waves. Hana wondered how she hadn’t noticed it back in the warehouse.

She left her inquiries for later, as she greeted her friend. “Hey…”

“Hi.”

“Tea, right?” Yuji nodded. “Feel free to sit wherever you like. The pancakes are ready”

Once again, Yuji nodded, even though Hana had turned away to prepare their drinks. Yuji sat in one of the booths, where he was able to see his teacher watching over him from across the street. Gojo stood in the dark, discerning his recognizable white hair. The boy almost jumped on his seat as Hana set two cups and a very much missed plate of pancakes. He stared again at his teacher, who had stopped laughing at him to drool at the sweets.

“Hope you like it.” Akiwara said, breaking his trance.

She took the seat in front of him and fiddled with her tea pod, waiting for his answer. The vessel relaxed as she didn’t seem to notice the man across the street.

“Thanks.” He replied with a smile, mimicking her actions. Yuji glanced at his cup before continuing the conversation. “How’s everything going?”

“I’ve been okay, I guess.” The black-haired girl shrugged. “It’s really boring in class now. Sasaki and Iguchi are still in the hospital.” A pang of guilt washed over Yuji, but before he could say anything, Hana carried on. “They’re getting better, don’t worry!”

The two of them sat in silence, staring at each other, before speaking at the same time.

“I’m…”

“So…”

Hana let out an awkward laugh. “What- what about you?”

“Good, good. It has been… different? I guess.” The boy replied as he played with his fork and took a bite of the pancakes.

She hummed at his reply.  “I mean, yeah, you changed schools so suddenly” She glanced at the pancakes before meeting his eyes again. “You never really told me why you left. I thought you liked it here.”

“That’s not-” Itadori chewed on the pancakes before he started talking again, watching Hana make a funny face at his puffy cheeks. He felt his face growing warmer. “I really liked the classes and spending time with you guys, but things have changed.”

The curse user bit her lip, finding it increasingly difficult to ignore her friend's cursed energy, to ignore how familiar it felt. Not to mention the white-haired weirdo lurking somewhere outside, watching them. She could sense his presence even from a distance, thanks to having used her own cursed energy against him a few days ago.

Hana didn’t need to see him to know he was there.

“Is that why you brought that sorcerer with you?” She blurted out without thinking. “You can’t even come here on your own, can you?”

“What?” Yuji asked, dumbfounded. He quickly snapped out of his stupor as he watched Hana start collecting her belongings. “Hana, please. Wait-”

The black-haired girl abruptly stood up from her seat. “No hard feelings, Yuji, but I’d rather not trash my workplace dealing with him.”

Just as she turned around, her body collided with an invisible force. She looked up, making eye contact with the very man she wanted to avoid. Hana huffed as he gave her a smile in return.

“Sit back down.” He had the nerve to order her.

The stupid sorcerer didn’t budge as she glared at him, arching her thin eyebrows. Akiwara sat begrudgingly and Gojo took a seat next to Itadori. She grumbled under her breath, staring at the white-haired man sitting in front of her. His surprisingly long legs stretched under the table, his knees uncomfortably brushing against hers. No matter how she adjusted her position, Gojo’s limbs took up all the space.

The three of them sat in silence for a minute. Yuji didn’t dare to speak, instead choosing to look at his hands under the table as Satoru stared at Hana through his blindfold. She stared right back at him.

“What do you want?” Hana asked.

“Isn’t it obvious, curse user?” The man smiled menacingly. “The finger. Where do you have it?”

“It isn’t here.” The girl scowled before repeating herself. “What do you want?”

“You shouldn’t be the one asking questions, you know?” Gojo's smile grew even wider, deepening the girl's frown. Yuji just watched their exchange of words, feeling a little bit disregarded.

He was still there, you know?

“Why do you think I care?” Hana’s voice brought him back to the conversation they were having. She shrugged as Itadori stared at her. “You should be grateful I haven’t actually done anything after what you have done to Yuji.”

Itadori couldn't help but be taken aback by the widening smile on his mentor's face. “And what, exactly, is that?”

“He’s Sukuna’s vessel now. What do you mean ‘what’?”

She couldn’t deny it any longer. That specific dark cursed energy was all too similar to the one oozing from the finger she so carefully borrowed . 

“I actually did that myself.” Yuji finally interjected.

Hana immediately turned her head to look at him, her eyebrows raised in question. “What do you mean?”

“I… I ate the finger.” Yuji explained.

She blinked, taken aback by his confession. “Really?” 

“He did.” Satoru chimed in, his fingers drumming on the table as Yuji nodded.

Hana sighed and deflated on her seat. “I’m not even going to question it.” Resting her head on her hand, she looked at the white-haired sorcerer. What was she even supposed to say to that? Congratulations on successfully resurrecting a powerful and ancient cursed spirit? “So, what now? Are you going to torture me until I reveal the location of the finger?”

Gojo had the audacity to laugh. “Why are you so distrustful?”

Hana shot him a glare, her frustration evident. "Why should I trust a group of arrogant individuals who would rather eliminate anyone practicing jujutsu outside of their control, instead of actually helping people?" Both Satoru and Yuji stared at her in silence, leaving Hana to clear her throat as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Her words had come out more intense than she had intended. “I don’t like the school’s stupid power dynamics and I’d love to have nothing to do with them.”

“So do I.” Gojo admitted, reclining in his seat. “But, see, Hana, as much as I’d like to leave you to your own devices, you’re still in possession of a special-grade cursed object.” He tilted his head and gestured with his hands. “Plus, that cursed technique of yours…”

The girl crossed her arms, clearly uncomfortable. “What are you trying to get at?”

“My point is, you could be seen as a threat by the higher-ups.” Gojo simply put it. “I know, I know, it’s a total bummer. But coming here with that technique of yours, what did you expect?” He taunted her. “Isn’t your clan on the brink of extinction? Why not just stay in the US?”

Hana chuckled dryly. “I think it was time we returned. Jujutsu is in our nature just as it is in yours.”

“You have a choice to change the course of things.” Satoru was so sure of himself it completely pissed her off. “Join Jujutsu Tech. Prove yourself.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Hana was sure she was pissing him off as well, judging by the subtle change in his stupid smile. It only fueled her to annoy him further.

“I have a life, you know?” She gestured to the café. “I work here, I’m in uni and I’m not leaving my brother behind.” She crossed her arms again, frowning. “Besides, who the hell are you? You just come here and expect me to join your cult without introducing yourself?”

“It’s not a cult.” The white-haired sorcerer sighed as he corrected her. “And my name’s Satoru Gojo.”

The man stared at her through the blindfold, expectantly. She could tell his name held any significance in the jujutsu world.

“Is that supposed to ring any bells?”

Not in hers, though. She remembered the stories her grandmother used to tell her about the Big Three Families, but the names were lost to her. She only needed to know there were three and they were bad .

Hana guessed Snowman here belonged to one of them, which only made things better. Now that she thought about it, she suspected it was the Gojo clan the one with the Six Eyes or the infinity stuff. She might have forgotten the names but she surely remembered their abilities; she had done her homework before coming to Japan after all.

This revelation gave Hana more reasons to kill Kenji when she got home.

“Do you even know anything?” His voice was laced with irritation.

“As I said, I’m not interested in your cult.” Akiwara shrugged. “Why should I bother learning about it?”

“Even if you don’t attend  Jujutsu Tech, the school won't leave you and your brother alone.” Gojo mocked her, mirroring her tone.

“Ooh, how terrifying…” The curse user feigned a scared look. “The answer is still no. Why haven’t you just reported us to your superiors and be done with it?”

“Because this one right here” Gojo pointed at Itadori, “wanted to give you a chance. So I’m giving you one.”

“Hana, please. It’s not as bad as it seems. I mean, they have suspended my execution.”

Gojo wanted to face-palm at his pupil’s failed attempt of convincing his friend.

The friend in question sighed. “I’ll think about it, Yuji.”

She had thought about it and the answer was no, but she’d say anything in order to get this man off her back.

Gojo pointed at the plate of pancakes, which had remained almost untouched for the duration of their conversation. “So… You’re not eating this, right?”

Akiwara just sunk deeper into her seat. She didn’t have any patience left for this man-child. Itadori kindly hurried Gojo out of the café after the curse user threw a plastic container with the left-over pancakes his way. The teacher had the nerve of asking then how she cloaked herself back in the warehouse, and she replied to his question bitterly when she realized he would just wait for her outside of her workplace if she didn’t comply. Hana remembered bitterly the ring her brother left behind, the talisman.

He could have just made another one, for fuck’s sake.

Hana breathed deeply as she finished closing the café. What was done is done. She just hoped the school would send another sorcerer other than Satoru Gojo.

˖ ⁺ ‧ ₊ ˚  ♡  ˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ˖

Much to her dismay, Hana wasn’t able to avoid Satoru for long. It had been just a week after he invaded her workplace, when she found herself face-to-face with him again. She was in no way, shape or form in the mood for his nonsense. The morning classes had already taken a toll on her, and the last thing she needed was an irritating sorcerer to make her day worse.

But there he was, leaning against the wall next to the exit of her university building. His relaxed posture was a stark contrast to the tension that immediately coiled in Hana's stomach. She could feel the weight of his gaze even before their eyes met. Well, it’s not as their eyes would have met anyways: Gojo had a black blindfold covering his eyes, making his hair stick up like some kind of toilet brush. She never really understood the necessity, wouldn’t glasses do the job?

Weirdo.

“I don’t have the time for this.” The black haired girl stated, looking sideways. She didn’t particularly want anyone to witness her interaction with the white-haired freak.

Hana readjusted the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder and kept walking.

“Oi!” Satoru’s voice didn’t stop her, in fact, it only fueled to walk faster. “Didn't expect to see you here.”

His long limbs helped him catch up to her effortlessly, a wide smile on his face. Hana stopped abruptly and turned around. Thankfully, Gojo’s sharp senses allowed him to halt just in time to avoid crashing into her.

“What do you want, Satoru?” She spelled his name with disdain, her eyes shooting daggers at him.

She knew it was kind of rude of her to address him by his name, or at least she hoped he found it rude. She was taught to use Mr and Mrs back at home, specially with older generations and remarkable members of society, but she thought none of that applied to Satoru Gojo. Plus, she didn’t want to hide her animosity.

Unfortunately for her, the sorcerer smiled.

“Just a chat.” He simply replied, though his tone suggested it was anything but simple.

Hana sighed, weighing her options. She could either attempt to run away, which had just proven unsuccessful, or she could listen to him and give him a vague response in the hopes he’d be satisfied with that and leave. Just like she had done the previous week.

“Make it quick.” She conceded after mentally cursing her position.

Hana walked away from the inquisitive gazes of her classmates and sought out a quiet spot in the campus greenery. As they approached the shadow of some trees, Hana couldn't help but feel a sense of unease with every movement Gojo made behind her. His mere presence radiated an undeniable power, which both piqued her interest and unnerved her. She wasn’t scared, but Satoru Gojo was, by far, one of the strongest sorcerers she had the displeasure of meeting. His name held weight in sorcerer circles, she guessed last time they saw each other. He seemed like a one man army kind of deal, but then, again, she hadn’t met that many sorcerers. It made Hana wonder if that was the standard, because she had seen power similar to that.

When they finally stopped walking, the white-haired sorcerer turned his back to her. His grin widened as she leaned against a tree, the sunlight filtering through the leaves above them.

“I'll cut to the chase.” He began, his tone teasing her. Hana rolled her eyes behind him. “You're talented, Hana. Your cursed technique is truly unique, and you are well aware of that.” He paused, but she remained silent. “What I’m offering is proper training and a safety net. No more hiding.”

“And you,” she emphasized, “are supposed to be this almighty teacher who will guide me on the right path?” Hana scoffed, tucking a stray strand of her black hair behind her ear. Satoru stayed quiet, choosing to gaze at the swaying trees instead. “Nice speech. Now, how can you actually guarantee your cult won't try to kill me?”

“Easy!” The man’s exclamation took the curse user aback, making her jolt on the spot. Gojo lifted his bandage, turning sideways to stare at her with one eye. “Since I’ll probably be your executioner, I’ll just have to make sure you are a good girl .”

What way of phrasing it was that ?

Akiwara cringed inwardly. She questioned herself how this poor excuse of a sorcerer had even been able to put her on edge. Gojo finally let go of his blindfold and fully turned around.

 “I've told you before, I'm not interested in joining your little sorcerer's club.”

Satoru smiled, basking in the idea that Hana might be warming up to him. However, Hana found herself losing respect for the man with every word he spoke. He was far from what she had expected most jujutsu sorcerers to be like.

Whatever this man was, it certainly wasn’t what she was told.

“Not a club,” Gojo corrected her, “and I still believe having some extra help wouldn’t hurt you. Plus, you’d be breaking a centuries-old rivalry, heh?”

The curse user frowned. “I can take care of myself and my brother just fine.”

“Mmm… He’s not-?” Before he could end what he was saying, his phone buzzed. Retrieving the device from his pocket, he glanced at the screen. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Seems like my visit is cut early. Duty calls.”

“Just like that?” Hana asked, a hint of relief in her voice.

“Yep, just like that.” He replied, already moving away. “Think about what I said, Hana.”

And with that, he was finally gone. Hana’s intuition was screaming that something was amiss, but the annoying sorcerer wasn’t there anymore to question him. His absence was both a relief and not, as her questions remained unanswered.  The day dragged on, each lecture feeling longer than the last, her mind replaying her encounter with Satoru. His words echoed inside her head on and on. By the time her final class ended, she was more than ready to leave the suffocating walls of the university behind and get home.

Pushing open the door, she was greeted by the familiar sight of Kenji, sprawled on the couch with a half-eaten sandwich in hand, gray eyes glued to the flickering TV screen. Her twin brother had the luck of getting home earlier than her on Tuesdays, being able to spend those few hours alone like that. Hana envied him at the moment.

“What’s up, sourface?” He teased, oblivious to her deepening frown.

Hana sighed, dropping her bag on the couch before throwing herself onto it. “I’m really not in the mood, Kenji.”

“Why?” He asked, concern piercing through his casual demeanor. Hana could barely understand her brother as he spoke with his mouth full. “Rough day in class?”

“Worse.” The girl massaged her temples, watching her brother put his plate of the coffee table. “He came back.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her twin’s posture stiffened. “Or you know… call me, huh?”

“It… It wasn’t that important.” Hana shrugged. The sorcerer had made it clear he wasn’t planning on killing her, for now at least. “He left almost as quickly as he came.”

“I don’t trust him, Hana. Any of them.” Kenji grumbled, almost scolding her. “And you know exactly why.”

To say they didn’t have a great relationship with other sorcerers would be an understatement. The Akiwara siblings placed their trust solely in their own clan, having learned that lesson the hard way.

“I know.” Hana nodded, her throat tight. She paused, as she waited for her uneasiness to wear off. “But something’s off.”

“Of course something’s off,” her brother chuckled, “that sorcerer is stalking you.”

“I’m not talking about that, idiot.” Hana threw a cushion to his brother, who skillfully dodged it. “I mean, he left so quickly. I feel something has happened.”

“Whatever it is, it’s not our problem.” Kenji’s gaze softened. He threw her back the cushion, which landed on her face. “You’ve been on edge lately. Maybe you just need some rest?”

Hana reluctantly nodded, noticing her eyelids drooping autonomously. She couldn’t say she wasn’t sleep deprived. While napping wouldn’t actually answer her much, it certainly wouldn’t hurt.

˖ ⁺ ‧ ₊ ˚  ♡  ˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ˖

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comments and suggestions are highly appreciated!

ty for reading <3

[f1-disaster-bi]

I just saw your send me asks post and I come bearing two ideas. Just choose which one you like more or none or both whichever rocks your fancy! I've just rediscovered your disabled lando au with Jenson and Seb as parents and it sounds so good! Do you have any more ideas for it? Maybe something where Lando experiences a setback when he's a bit older after he just got through quite a serious case of pneumonia and is still incredibly weak. Or on a happier note, Lando's first race where he can watch it with his dads and being a complete gremlin but so so loved by all the staff and drivers. The second idea is neurodivergent Lando: I don't know whether you would be interested or comfortable writing this but I really like your writing and would love to hear your thoughts. So I think racing would be his passion and when training and in the car he would always feel at peace and the most himself, but there are many aspects connected to f1 that he really struggles with. The constant swarm of people as well as the loud noises constantly. So I think noise-cancelling headphones and someone he knows close by (Jon my beloved) is a must. Also, Lando saying in interviews that he often wears sunglasses, even inside because he finds it too bright or always wearing hoodies because the material and fit feel a lot better to him. There are days where his sensory issues are less and days when they are a lot more prominent and I just love the idea of trainer/big brother Jon being the biggest support through everything and especially someone Lando trust wholeheartedly even when he doesn't feel good and his anxiety is bleeding through.

I absolutely adore the second idea, but it's been so long since I've gotten to think about of explore my foster child Lando/Disabled Lando au that I just can't not think about it now!

I hope these two ideas were what you were referring to ( one and two) what you were think of.

Lando having some complications as he grows older from the car accident when he was two that took his leg. Especially after how the orphange he was at often failed to bring him for check up's, so when Seb and Jenson adopt him when he's five-turning-six, they make sure to keep on top of everything. That's when they find out that Lando has some issues with his lungs because of the crash, and they often find themselves back in the doctor with colds and sore throats so they never turn into something worse

But when Lando is a little older, maybe ten, he starts to realise that people look down on him because of his prostetic leg. He realises other kids make fun of how he walksh and runs, how he gets so sick sometimes, and he just wants to be normal. He wants to be healthy, so when he starts to get a cough after going swimming with his class and someone dunking him under water a few times, Lando tries to hide it.

Seb and Jenson notice something is wrong but they think maybe it's the start of his pre-teen moodiness that he doesn't want to cuddle and watch movies or hang out with them in the evenings. They notice he's a little pale, but Lando brushes them off.

And then Lando collapses on the way out the door to school one day and Sebastian is in bits. Jenson was already gone for the gym, and Seb was doing drop off and he ends up calling Jenson from the hospital in a panic because "we missed it, he was in pain and we missed it". He'd feel so guilty, especially when Lando admits to everything, but first he was to endure his little boy needing surgery because his pnuemonia had collapsed his lung.

Lando wakes up to both his dad's holding his hands, just watching and waiting, and it makes him want to cry because he ws so scared the kids at school were right and that his dad's were tired of his disabilities but then Seb is there playing with his hair, kissing his forehead and whispering to him in German while Jenson kisses his hand and tells him he's safe and okay, and Lando knows his dads love him and feels so stupid for not telling them everything and doubting it