#we know almost nothing about him... i'm equal parts curious and frustrated

[ltcolonelcarter]

They need to realise how much they're hurting us... find the right words and they'll listen. ↳ Josh for @nock-and-bolt

[casspurrjoybell-17]

Hart and Hunter - Chapter 4 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Dane Hunter

"You're also my mate and I love you. Let me fuss."

He sighs but submits as I continue to check him over, taking his pulse and removing the sunglasses to see if his pupils are responding to light.

They're still blown wide, the irises nothing but a thin ring of amethyst around a black core and I slide the glasses back in place as he winces in pain.

His skin is still a little cold and clammy and I grab a blanket from the back seat and cover him. I know he doesn't like it when I hover but he doesn't understand how ingrained the instinct is.

My mom had her first child 'me' at twenty-three, and her last 'Ingrid' at thirty-seven.

With seven siblings spaced over those fifteen years, I naturally became a kind of third parent... a second dad, almost.

I sometimes had to make decisions in my siblings' best interest that they wouldn't have decided for themselves, bedtime, bath-time, when enough was enough.

I'd carried that sense of responsibility with me to the service and while it hadn't made me popular, it had served me well.

Julian's not a child, though and he's not my subordinate.

He's my equal and my partner.

But sometimes I struggle to find the line between caring and control, between doing what he wants and doing what I think is best.

I try to compromise.

"When was the last time you saw a doctor?"

"What?" he asks, his eyes snapping open behind the sunglasses as he turns to look at me.

"I just mean... have you been to a doctor? Had x-rays, blood-tests?"

"The hell are you asking me, Dane?"

I tug on my hair and sigh, realizing we should have had this conversation a long time ago and that I'm doing a bad job of bringing it up now.

"Look... Wolves have markers in our blood. A human doctor wouldn't know what they are but they'd know it was something unusual. They'd probably think it was a disease of some kind. Same with x-rays. Sometimes our bones or joints don't look quite right. So, we avoid those things. What about you? Could I take you to the hospital right now if I needed to or would you end up in a secret government lab somewhere?"

"Jeez, Dane," he sighs and leans into the headrest again.

"I'm fine. And I don't know. I've had plenty of blood tests. I used to get them pretty regularly when I was younger because..." he bites his lip, probably thinking I'd rather not hear about his exes.

"Anyway, no men in black ever showed up to take me away and I've never been sick enough to need the ER. I don't need it now, either."

"How do you know?" I challenge.

"Have you ever passed out like that before?"

"No, I haven't but we've got an obvious line of cause and effect. My senses were already at full receptivity from reading the store. I touched the symbol and whatever energy it held knocked me flat. I'm already feeling better."

"You stopped breathing, Julian," I snap, frustrated by his refusal to see things from my side.

"If I'd passed out and stopped breathing, would you just take me at my word that I'm fine?"

He doesn't speak for a moment and then clears his throat.

"No. I guess I wouldn't. I'd be worried, too. How did that work, anyway?"

I squint, confused.

"How did what work?"

"You were in the military. Don't they do random drug tests and stuff all the time?"

Sighing at his attempt to change the topic, I give up and start the car, turning my attention to driving us home.

"They do but I wasn't the only one. We've got... networks, I guess. Shifters and Wolves at different levels in the chain of command. The higher ups shield those lower down."

"Who shields the higher ups?"

I stop at a light and check my rear view mirror as I catch the wail of sirens in the distance.

If Stephanie called the cops when we left, they'll be here soon.

The station's only a few streets away.

"Does it matter?"

"Just curious," he mutters, slouching in his seat.

"Yeah, that's what the cat said, too."

He mutters something else but before I can ask him to speak up and share with the class, more sirens distract me.

These are louder and coming from a different direction.

The light turns green but I stay where I am, not wanting to block the path of emergency vehicles.

A moment later, an ambulance flies around the corner, sirens screaming and zooms off in the direction we'd come.

Julian presses his hands over his ears, being sensitive to sound as well as light and twists to look back through the rear window.

"Stephanie didn't call 911, did she?" he asks.

"No, I told her not to. They wouldn't send an ambulance without confirming one was needed, anyway. Must be something else."

I turn the car around.

"What are you doing?" Julian asks, sitting up.

"Why are we going back?"

"Just curious," I say, throwing his line back at him with a crooked smile.

We pass Stephanie's shop and see her standing outside with her arms crossed, frowning and shielding her eyes as she looks down the street.

At the end of the block, two police cruisers, a fire engine and the ambulance have parked in front of Jeffrey Lagrange's bicycle shop.

I pull into the nearest parking spot I can find and unclip my seatbelt to get out.

Julian reaches over and grabs my arm.

"Wait... where are you going?"

"To check it out. Stay here."

"Like hell."

He fumbles with the buckle of his own belt.

I reach over and take his hand, putting the tiniest trace of Alpha in my voice... just enough to get his attention.

"Julian."

He stills and looks up at me warily.

"What?"

"You're okay, right?"

"Yes. I told you, I'm..."

"Okay. I believe you. Now I need you to listen. Stay here and rest. I'll be right back. Please," I add, after a slight hesitation and squeeze his hand.

He looks at me tensely and then... to my relief... he relaxes, whatever he sees in my face having convinced him.

"Alright. Don't take long."

"I won't."

I lean over and kiss him before getting out and walking toward the scene.

A cluster of officers gather near the front of the shop and a pair of EMTs attend to a crying woman.

As I approach, one officer... a rookie I don't recognize... turns and lifts a hand.

"Sir, keep your distance. This is a crime scene."

At his side, my former boss, Chief Laura Coleridge, turns and lifts grey brows at me as she waves the officer off.

"Hunter. Fancy seeing you here."

"What's going on?"

She nods at the shop.

"Mr. Lagrange's store was burgled last night. Apparently, he confronted the thief."

My interest sharpens.

"Is he hurt?"

"Nope."

I glance at the ambulance but Coleridge continues before I can ask what, in that case, it's for.

"He's dead," she says.

I pause to absorb this information.

"Homicide?"

She shakes her head.

"Unclear. I got a feeling, though. You know the one."

I do... instincts aren't just a wolf thing, humans have them, too and Chief Coleridge's are especially well-attuned.

The one she's referring to gets honed in cops over time, the feeling that something is off with a scene.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods?" she asks.

"According to Erickson, you and Hart were here the other night as well."

Silently cursing my erstwhile co-worker and knowing that Coleridge will find out soon enough anyway, I tell her what Julian and I had discovered so far.

"Actually, I'm glad you're on the case already," she says.

"I was just thinking of calling you."

Taking out her cell-phone, she pulls up a photo and angles the screen at me.

"That mark you found in Wong's... it looks something like this?"

I study the image and nod.

The symbol in the photo is different but similar in style.

"Not exactly but yeah."

I show her the photos I'd taken earlier.

"Wong will show you where it is... I told her to point it out."

She taps her screen and to my surprise, my cell-phone pings and I see she's sent me the image.

"We found it near the body," she says.

"This is evidence," I remark, although she's obviously aware of that as well as the fact she shouldn't share it with someone who's not a cop.

She nods, hands on her hips as she surveys the scene, watching as police, paramedics and other personnel do their jobs.

"Look. I know you said you're done with the violent stuff, Hunter but I think we could use you on this one. Hart, too. You want in?"

I glance back at my car.

Julian will absolutely want in.

He's eager to put his Fae abilities to the test and what happened today won't dampen that enthusiasm one bit.

On the other hand, the thief may have just proven himself more than capable of delivering on his threats.

Maybe what Julian doesn't know won't hurt him.

"Chief. Come look at this," an officer calls from the scene.

Chief Coleridge raises her brows at me in invitation but I shake my head.

"Nah," I say.

"Not this time."

She gives me a knowing look and pats my arm.

"Call me when you change your mind," she says and walks away to see what her team has found.

[dearcat1]

(Defending)

Part 54 of Biases and Expectations

He watches his wife check on a muddy but triumphant Anton and snorts, turning his attention to his daughter. He picks her up, ignoring her wide eyes. Julian is standing by his mother's legs, a little bloodied up but otherwise fine. Sawada seems to agree, judging by his mostly relaxed reaction to this mess. Xanxus clicks his tongue, "what happened?"

Tsunayoshi picks his kid up, patting his back soothingly. "Nicki grabbed Julian's truck so he pushed her. Anton returned the favour."

That's an understatement, his son tackled the shit out of Sawada's spawn. Xanxus looks back at his wife who, despite what it might look like, isn't scolding Antonio in the slightest. "It's time we go."

"No need," Sawada shrugs. "The food is about to come out. The kids will get over it pretty quickly."

Xanxus grunts but concedes the point. "Fine." It's the first time Xanxus has taken Emilia with him to one of the family gatherings and she seemed so surprised when he told her that he doesn't know what to do with that. Xanxus is just trying to keep his wife where he can see her because his people can't be trusted, it would seem. He walks up to the two of them. "Emilia," Xanxus waits until she's looking at him. "Come on, let's go inside." He ruffles Anton's hair, "well done."

Emilia stands up with a chuckle; she kisses Nicole's cheek and grabs Anton's hand, letting Xanxus guide her inside. "I'm getting hungry."

"Food should be almost ready," Xanxus brushes his fingers against her pulse. "Sawada wants us to spend the night." He hasn't said as much but it's pretty obvious he's keeping them around for as long as he can manage.

His wife eyes Angelina for a moment before nodding. "The kids were having fun." Other than that little scuffle, it's true.

Perhaps it's the frustration about the entire situation but his wife's interpretation of things angers him. Xanxus clicks his tongue but restraints his temper, his kids don't need to see that and Emilia is already wary enough of him as it is. Xanxus puts his daughter down, grabbing his wife's nape as soon as both children run inside the Iron Fort. "I'm not fucking Angelina."

"...Ok?" Emilia blinks, one of her hands coming up to grab his wrist. "I didn't think you'd sleep with her." She says nothing about other women, of course, and that's enough to keep his anger flaming but…

"Then why the look?" He takes his hand away.

"She's been walking on eggshells around Tsunayoshi and Julienne." Emilia shrugs, still holding on to his wrist. "I'm curious what that's about."

"Sawada is annoyed enough to want her gone and is planning on marrying her off if that's what it takes." Xanxus nods at his wife's wide eyes. "She's been nagging for Emma or somebody as equally influential. Byakuran maybe. Sawada is talking to your brother instead and if that doesn't work, he'll talk to Don Falco. He's got nephews. They won't inherit but it's still understandable given Gokudera."

"My brother won't take her," Emilia eyes Xanxus carefully before intertwining their fingers. It calms Xanxus's temper even as he knows that's why she did it. "Not after everything. And even if he did, it's a terrible start for a marriage."

Angelina is likely terrified that Lillo will take her. Lillo's love for his sister isn't a secret, nor are the lengths he'll go to protect her. "We know that."

Emilia snorts but before Xanxus can comment, she turns around and pulls him along. "Come on."

"Yeah."

[moistmailman]

SCP AU part 2

*Jaune is pushed into a room with a bag over his face before the door shuts on him*

Jaune, slightly muffled: H-HEY! I SAID LET ME GO DAMNIT! *cautiously reaches for bag and touches it before ripping it off*

Jaune, immediately turning to the door and banging on it: I SWEAR TO GOD YOU GUYS BETTER LET ME OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW! WHAT KINDA FUCKED SOCIAL EXPERIMENT IS THIS?! *continue banging*

Jaune, continuing his assault on the door: MY MOM’S A LAWYER BY THE WAY! SHE’LL SUE YOUR ASSES, I SWEAR IT! SHE’LL SUE YOUR ASS SO HARD THAT WE’LL GET FINANCIAL CONPENSATION FROM YOUR DAMN GRAND KIDS! *bangs louder* YOU HEAR ME! HELLO.....IM SERIOUS.....nobody can hear me, can they?

Pyrrha: I can hear you.

*Jaune squeaks loudly before getting in a karate stance while turning to see a tall redhead girl around his age with vivid green eyes sitting on a bed*

Jaune, internally: What the fuck?! How long has she been here?!

Pyrrha, awkwardly waving: Hello.

Jaune, awkwardly waving back: Uh..hi.

*an awkward silence fall on the two, with the blonde slightly blushing and the redhead staring at him with interest*

Jaune, internally: Holy shit, she’s pretty. My god, she absolutely stunning. She has got to be the prettiest girl I’ve seen in my li— Wait Wait, Jauney-Boy, you're getting side tracked. What the fuck is going on in here, and why did those guys put me in a room with a very hot girl with really long and smooth legs— GAH, HORMONES THERE ARE MORE IMPORTANT MATTERS TO ATTEND TO!

Pyrrha: *giggles while slightly blushing*

Jaune, terrified:......w-was I t-talking out loud?

Pyrrha: Hmm? Oh no. *smiles teasingly* Why? What were you thinking about?

Jaune, voice cracking: N-nothing. Nothing at— *clears throat* H-hey, I’m Jaune.

Pyrrha, smiling: Pyrrha, charmed.

Jaune, internally: Wow, even her name is pretty.

Pyrrha: *snickers cutely*

*Jaune looks around to see what she’s snickering at to see nothing*

Jaune, shrugging it off: So uhm....they tricked you with the social experiment, huh?

*Pyrrha thinks for a moment, before a coy smile gets plastered on her lips*

Pyrrha: Yeah, you can say something like that.

Jaune: Damn. Who the hell are these people, and you have any idea what they even want from us?

Pyrrha, shaking her head: Your guess is as good as mine.

Jaune, sighing: Great. Isn’t today just wonderful. Should’ve known that offer was too good to be true. *slide his back against the wall until he’s sitting* Teach me not to read documents people tell me to sign.

*MEANWHILE, SOMETIME LATER*

Cinder, sighing: Wow, great plan, Roman. We are learning things about her so fast.

Roman: This takes patience, Cinder.

Cinder, frustrated: The boy haven’t even said anything to her for the past 5 minutes! He’s just sitting his ass on the floor. The boy is socially handicapped!

Roman: That’s not my fault! You're the one who pick him!

Cinder: Well you were the one to make this stupid plan in the first place! How will the boy even ask her about her powers in the first place if he doesn't even know that he needs to ask?!

Roman: Geez, I don't know! How did I know about you being an only child?

Cinder: Be—

Roman: Because I asked you as a curious person who wants to know about my friend! Now believe it or but if I got under the assumption that you started reading my mind, you bet your ass I would ask you about it, especially if I was trapped in a small room with you!

Cinder: But why would SCP-312 answer the question if she knows what we're trying to—

Roman, urgently: Hush! Something's happening!

*MEANWHILE*

Jaune: *has been moving uncomfortably on the floor for the past 5 minutes*

Pyrrha, scooting in her bed: Hey, you wanna sit next to me? The floor looks pretty uncomfortable.

Jaune: Really? You're alright with that?

Pyrrha, smiling warmly: Of course. The bed's large enough. *Pat beside her* Here.

Jaune, slightly blushing: O-oh, Uh, sure then. Thanks.

*Jaune walks over to the bed before sitting down, his cheeks crimsoning*

Pyrrha: There, is that better?

Jaune: Y-yeah. T-thanks.

Pyrrha: Youre welcome:

*Once again the room fall to silence as the boy looks everywhere but at the very attractive girl he's shoulder to shoulder with*

Jaune, internally: God, what's wrong with me?! I just got kidnnapped yet I'm more worried about this super hot girl sitting next to me! I can barely form coherent sentences around her! Damn, my hands are all sweaty too! She's so close! I can feel her body warmth! Just calm down, Jauney. Calm down already. Take a deep breath, and try to strike up a conversation with her. This silence is deafening.

Jaune, taking a deep breath: So, what—

Pyrrha: *Facing Jaune with a warm smile*

Jaune, voice wavering: —y-y-your.......*turns away in embarrassment*

Jaune, internally: For god sake! I can’t get used to that smile! It’s like beautiful personified. God damnit. I need to keep a conversation going, at least until those guys come back! Okay think! What did mom tell me about talking to girls?

A memory starts playing inside Jaune’s head with his mother’s voice: Remember Sweetie, women love wedding rings, but they love babies more.

Jaune, internally:.....is...is that it?! Really?! That’s literally the only advice my mother has ever given more for girls. How the hell is baby propaganda supposed to help me in this situation?! What kinda— okay, calm down. I have another parent. What did dad tell me?

Another memory starts playing in Jaune’s head, this time with his father’s voice: Son, I have absolutely no idea how I managed to make your mother fall for me. I am not the man you should be asking. You’ll probably have a better shot asking the stars that question.

Jaune, internally:.........I’m going to die alone, aren’t I? My parents managed to make the opposite sex so completely alien to me, despite me having 7 sisters! What he actual fuck?! This is an absolute disaster! This can’t get any worst!

*Jaune then remembers one crucial detail of the predicament he’s in*

Jaune, internally: OH GOD! I FORGOT I WAS ALSO KIDNAPPED! WHAT THE FUCK EVEN IS TODAY?! I’M PROBABLY GOING TO DIE IN HERE AND I CANT EVEN STRIKE UP A CONVERSATION WITH THE GIRL WHO WILL POSSIBLY DIE WITH ME! I AM A DISGRACE TO EVERY ARC TO EVER LIVE! I CAN FEEL MY ANCESTORS LOOKING AT ME WITH DISGUST! OH GOD! WHAT THE—

*Suddenly Jaune’s nerves instantly drop and a calm aura surrounds him, almost like it just completely disappeared and got replace with an warm and inviting energy*

Jaune, confused: Huh?

*The weight on Jaune’s hand then became evident, as he looked down and found Pyrrha’s hand gently lying on his, almost reassuringly*

Jaune, slightly blushing:.........

Pyrrha, in soothing tone: So, tell me about yourself.

Jaune, no longer feeling nervous for a reason he doesn’t know why:...........well, I just graduated from college.

*MEANWHILE*

Cinder, frantically: WRITE THAT DOEN, WRITE THAT DOWN!

Roman, equally as frantic: I AM! I AM!

[fe-fictions]

I almost cried when I saw all your stuff gone. :( I thought you left!!! Anyway, can you repost the Saizo one where Corrin gets kidnapped and has to use the whistle? I'm SO sorry Tumblr is such a dummy

(im sorry too but its not so bad U v U <3 just gives me a chance to earn ur love and respecc again!)

It was Saizo who woke the camp in a panicked fury before the sun had even risen. He was coated in blood, which many prayed wasn’t his, and his eyes were wild with a fury unmatched by any man. Saizo was exhausted, panting heavily, trying to keep his wits about him, but the reality was clear.

His wife was kidnapped , and he wasn’t able to stop it despite his best efforts. He woke unconscious on the Castle grounds, bodies littered around him.

They had ambushed during patrol, with his wife alongside him. But the target was always going to be you; even with Saizo at your side, they came prepared to take him down and withhold you through sheer use of force.

He was left to die, but somehow, despite the chaos he created, they weren’t able to accomplish that goal. So now, he was after them. There was no more time to waste, not with you having been gone for hours.

There was no telling where they’d taken you at this point. All hands were on deck from the first second. The royals were sending scouts out every half hour, scouring the land and skies for any potential location you may have been taken to.

Mages were quick to work on tracking spells, consulting with whatever spirits would reveal you. The rest of the army was preparing for war, donning armor and training with grim, pale expressions of determination. It would be a terrible blow to their morale if they lost the sole person responsible for the unification of divided kingdoms.

They could not afford to lose you.

Kaze and Jakob, despite their serious differences, were in agreement wholeheartedly for the first time in their lives. They were equally frightened and distraught, frustrated that they were unable to find their liege (let alone protect her).

They had assumed another ally would have joined them in their agitation, but to Kaze’s shock, he was mistaken. Saizo, who he would have assumed would be filled with rage, was…silent.

Umoving.

The man had been meditating since the crack of dawn, placed at the dead center of camp for hours. His eyes were shut, and he looked completely serene. Kaze wanted to haul off and deck him.

“Saizo.” Kaze came to a stop in front of where his brother knelt, arms crossed tight against his chest.

His brother’s breathing did not shift; no acknowledgement of Kaze.

“I understand trying to keep calm given the circumstances, but this is a bit much.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Lady Corrin’s siblings have been working tirelessly to try and rescue her, while you stay here and do nothing!” He was growing even more upset about the circumstances. Saizo’s eyebrow twitched, but nothing else changed. “I understand trying to stay calm given the circumstances, but we need your help. She needs your help!”

Saizo’s fists clenched.

“Be silent.” He hissed.

“Help us save her instead of staying here and doing nothing!!” He snapped at his brother. That seemed to do the trick.

In the next second Saizo launched at him, grabbing his brother’s tunic with murder in his eyes.

“Shut your damn mouth, fool!!” Saizo’s growl was hoarse with impatience, shoving Kaze away from him roughly enough that he stumbled. Kaze regathered himself, maintaining his glare at his listless brother. He wasn’t sure what happened to him, A part of him wanted to brace, waiting for the inevitable follow-up strike that Saizo usuallym used.

To his shock, however…nothing came. Saizo held up his finger, narrowing his eye.

“Listen.”

Kaze stilled, admittedly curious about what exactly Saizo was trying to accomplish hidden away on his own. The two of them remained there for several seconds, simply standing and listening for…something. Kaze didn’t know what.

Then there was a faint, barely audible break in the quiet.

A high pitched sound, much like a ringing ear, reverberated in the distance.

It was a single note, carrying for several long seconds before it suddenly stopped.

Saizo turned in the direction of the sound. Kaze watched him. Then the note sounded again, same pitch.

Kaze’s eyebrows drew together. It was starting to sound like-

“The flute?”

Saizo was already sprinting across camp, leaping into the trees. The whiplash of his brother’s motive shifting was almost impossible to keep up with.

He would’ve lost Saizo in the brush if he hadn’t been following the note- well, that and the sound of Saizo crashing through the forest with the sheer velocity of his movements.

“I gave her that whistle the day we were wed.” Saizo’s speech was clipped. “If she was ever in danger, she had to use it. I told her not to stop blowing into it until I got to her.”

“You were listening for it.” Kaze realized, “I…forgive me Brother, if I knew what you were doing, I wouldn’t have-”

“I can’t hear it over your yapping.” Saizo snapped at him. Kaze nodded; at least the apology was accepted. Now he could devote his full attention to rescuing his liege, following the faint sound of the little flute.

The two of them raced through the forest, trailing after their one chance at finding you. Occasionally it would stop, bringing them both to a pause; then Saiozo was bounding ahead as soon as it would begin again, sometimes changing his direction or pace to keep up with the direction of the ringing noise.

The camp was long gone; Kaze had no idea where they were, anymore. But the sound was getting closer. Growing just a little bit louder with every push.

They noticed how swiftly they were coming close to enemy territory. Saizo pointed out the fort before Kaze had seen it.

The whistle was getting louder. It became very clear you were near.

You had to be there.

“It’s coming from below.” Saizo noted, “They’re holding her in the basement floor.”

“I’ll search for an entry point.” Kaze started forward, but Saizo suddenly grabbed his obi. “Saizo?”

His brother’s face was pale. “It stopped.”

“It-?” He raised his head, realizing the whistle had suddenly stopped mid-ring. Each blow had lasted approximately 10 to 12 seconds, for the last few hours.

This one had cut off almost as it had started. Saizo’s expression shifted with Kaze’s.

“We’re out of time.”

“Wait, Saizo, we can’t just-”

“We have to go now!!” Saizo launched forward, immediately identifying the quickest way into the fort and nearly blowing their cover. It was a miracle that Kaze was able to keep them safe, and they were able to get in to you.

He hoped.

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

Gods, you were exhausted. It was going on for too long. You were constantly pumped with adrenaline, desperate to keep your eyes open and the air in your lungs full.

You lost track of how long you’d been blowing into the whistle. But you weren’t going to stop until someone came.

Saizo made it very clear the day he gave it to you that you had to keep going until you were attended. You were certain he meant that he would be the one to come to you, but after waiting for so long…you were getting desperate.

You were glad that the whistle couldn’t be heard by anyone else. You’d attempted experimental blows before you committed fully, until you were sure the guards in front of your cell couldn’t hear it.

Since then you were sneakily sending out the distress call, making sure to hide it when they turned to look at you, or someone else came into the room.

You’d been lucky enough to get away with it for ages, cautiously avoiding any possbibility of being spotted.

It wasn’t clear when things started to come apart, but you klnew you were exhausted.

It was so frightening, and you were uncertain and anxious; all you had was clinging to the hope that someone would hear your call. That Saizo would come for you.

But as the hours dragged on, you were growing more and more desperate.

Perhaps that’s why you lost focus.

“The scouts just sent word of spotting unusual activity outside.” A guard suddenly came into the holding space, sounding distressed, “They believe the Hoshidans are coming.”

“Has anyone investigated and found evidence?” The one in front of your cell asked.

You hid the whistle at the sound of his voice, clinging to the instrument hidden behind your drawn up legs.

“Not yet- but the captain doesn’t want to take chances. He said we need to make preparations to move to the next location as soon as possible.”

Their voices were fuzzy, but you heard every word. The flute returned to your lips, and you gave it a hard blow. There wasn’t any time left. Where were your rescuers?

Your weapons and dragonstone were confiscated- even if they opened the cell doors to get you out, there would be no way to put up a proper fight unless you wished for a swift death.

“Understood. We’ll take care of the- hey, what are you doing?!”

You jolted when hands slammed into the iron bars, finding a frightening face glaring down at you.

“She’s got something!!”

“What?!” The doors were opened suddenly, and you found yourself pressed into the corner, a death grip on the whistle. They couldn’t take it. It was all you had left.

Strong, angry hands grabbed at your body, forcing your hands up. The flute was ripped away from you, eliciting a gasp from one of the soldiers.

“It’s a signal- she must’ve called the Hoshidans here!!”

“Damn you!!”

“No!!” You cried out, reaching for the flute. The precious, important gift from your husband. Your saving grace. They were taking it.

You were officially out of time.

“Alert the captain what we found, and get moving! I’ll take care of this,” The one who held the flute barked orders, before snapping his glare back to you. “You must think you’re terribly clever, huh?”

“No-”

“You’ll have hells to pay for this!” He threw the metal to the stone, crushing it under his boot. Your heart dropped, seeing it broken to pieces.

You were officially out of time.

The hands forced you up to your feet, pain shooting through the unused limbs that remained impossibly bound to the ground. The soldier spat out a curse, throwing you against the wall. He moved to undo them. It was when he released his grip on you that something shifted.

“You’ve breathed your last!”

The battle cry rattled your bones, turning the soldier in shock just before the kunai buried in his neck. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

He was dead.

Shaking, you slid to the cold floor, staring at the puddle of blood seeping from the brutal wound.

At least, until you realized the murderer was standing over him, and had turned his sights to you. No, not murderer. Protector.

Your savior.

“Corrin!”

Calloused fingers touched your face, drawing your blurry gaze to a very worried ninja’s. You blinked rapidly, recognizing the fiery red hair first.

“S…Saizo��?’

His expression shifted beneath the mask. You couldn’t tell if he was frightened or relieved, or maybe both.

He engulfed you in his embrace, then, crushing you to his chest.

“It’s me.”

Your breath hitched. “I-it’s…you’re really h-here?”

“I’m here.” He nodded into your hair, holding you as close as he coild. “I followed the flute, just like I promised.”

“The flute-” You gasped, pushing back on your poor husband’s chest and spotting the poor trinket broken on the ground. “They b-broke it! I-I couldn’t call you anymore, I was-”

“It’s okay.” He pulled you back into him, “We’ll get you another.”

“B-but it was a precious gift…”

“It served its purpose- it brought me to you. You’d rather have me than that.”

You nodded silently, sniffling into his chest. Saizo cradled you there for a long time, never once letting you move even an inch from his embrace.

No, he wasn’t going anywhere, and he’d be damned if he let you slip away from him again (especially against your will).

Eventually you calmed down enough to think about escape. Kaze cleared the path, and sent a message to the camp that you’d been secured.

Saizo held you to his side, clearing out the enemy traps and remaining soldiers foolish enough to attempt to keep you.

He lifted you from the fort, taking you into his arms and carrying you from the evil place.

Your arms looped tight around his neck, hugging him close and seeking out the comfort you desperately needed after a horrific experience like that.

Kaze and Jakob both were fighting tears when you all returned to camp, not to mention your poor siblings that had been scared beyond belief.

Ryoma assured you that Saizo would be rewarded handsomely. There would be no discussion of it despite Saizo’s protests.

He didn’t just save his wife, he saved the princess of Nohr and Hoshido. Their family.

All of it was silly trivia, though. In the end, what brought you true relief and comfort was returning to your home, lowered onto the bed by your dearest husband.

Freshly bathed, warm and filled with good food, and the promise of a brand new flute eased you greatly after your ordeal.

What was your most favorite fix, though, was Saizo crawling into bed beside you and immediately looping his arms around you.

It was all over, and you were okay. He reminded you of this, whispering between sweet kisses into your hair.

You were safe, now. All thanks to that silly little whistle he’d given you ages ago. One that he made sure to swiftly replace, ensuring your safety for years to come.

Of course, wearing a matching one for you should such an occasion ever arise (not that it ever would- how could it when he was so busy protecting you?)

[wreckofawriter]

Jelly Slugs

Pairing: Harry Potter x reader

Word Count: 2,278

Warnings: Swearing, a little angsty, still plenty of fluff

Song to Set the Vibe: broken ~ lovelytheband

Request: @mcluuvin666 hi could i request a harry potterxreader in which the reader & harry always seem to find each other in the hospital wing at the end of each year because of harry’s adventures & somehow she always ends up hurt in a funny/ironic way even though it wasn’t her intention to get caught in their messes if that makes sense? either way harry & the reader get really close throughout years of ending up in the hospital wing w the reader being frustrated w the trio bc they’re the “reason” why she’s hurt and she’s just kinda like “you lot are going to be the death of me” but harry and reader end up going out anyway. lots of fluff and maybe angst if you can? thank you so much!!

A/n: Once agian so sorry this took so long! It may not be completely edited, excuse typos, I wrote litteratly all of it tonight. I'm trying to burn through my requets, if u sent one I got it I'm just waiting to get to it

    At eleven years old you had already had far too many near-death experiences, for you that meant one. You hadn’t meant to do anything at all, well except grab some snacks from the kitchen after hours, but it wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before. On your way back your ears had picked up a sweet symphony and you had grown curious. 

Turning a few unfamiliar corners you found the room, its heavy door ajar. You pushed it all the way open, a pastry still stuffed in your mouth preventing you from screaming. A large three-headed beast lay in front of you snoring loudly. Before you could turn and run your eyes found a small wooden trap door at its feet. The phrase your mother often scolded you with echoed in your head, Curiosity killed the cat. You about turned on your heel but then the ending of the saying learned from an equally mischievous classmate came to you, But satisfaction brought it back. 

You dropped the food in your hands and walked hesitantly towards the large dog. You then quietly opened the door, cringing as its hinges squeaked and peered inside being met with complete darkness. You were going to close the door retrieve your treats then head back to your dorm but as you turned you met a pair of brilliantly green eyes and you let out a yelp before stumbling backward and plunging into the hole with a scream. You were soon followed by three of your classmates almost as confused as you were. 

You ended up getting your arm broken by a giant chess piece on your way to retrieve something you didn’t fully understand and what you believed to be a curse began. 

You sat up in a cold sweat the image of a white stone queen drawing her sword waking you with a start. You rubbed your eyes only to find your left arm in a sling and aching a bit.

“Oh, good you’re awake.”

You turned to your right to see a little boy in round glasses smiling at you. “What happened last night?” you asked eyes wide.

“It’s a long story, but I suppose we have time.” He shrugged, “Jelly slug?” he offered holding out a colorfully wrapped package. 

“Yes please.”

Second year began as normal as it should have but it was soon strange and dangerous, pearlized classmates and strict rules making the school feel less and less like a home. Of course, your luck being about as bad as it got, you where the last victim of the basilisk. 

You had been polishing trophies to serve detention which you got for supposedly bad-mouthing Snape although it wasn’t your fault Draco was a filthy snitch. You then saw a large pair of yellow eyes in the shining metal and everything went dark.

You woke up four days later body aching eyes feeling extremely dry as you blinked vigorously. You had a strange sense of deja vu as the hospital wing soon came into view. Head once again thumping as you tried to recall your memories. 

“Oh right, you're here.”

You turned your head to the right to see a wide smile, green eyes hidden behind round glasses as cuts riddled the boy’s face. 

“Merlin Harry, what happened to you?” You gasped taking in his battered form. 

He shrugged, “I fought Voldemort.”

You cringed at the name but said nothing of it to him, “Again?” 

He laughed, “Yeah, this time it hurt more though.” 

“I’m glad you’re okay.” You grinned at him.

His cheeks reddened a bit, “Yeah, I’m glad you’re okay too.” 

You fell into an uncomfortable silence before Harry reached to his bedside table and offered you a tissue-wrapped box, “Jelly Slug?” 

You nodded taking it from him

Third-year had been downright dreadful for you. You were finally a teenager which basically meant everything that had been easy and quick now seemed to take hours and far too much thought. Every little thing you did you were sure would be scrutinized, it didn’t help when a close friend of yours spread a nasty rumor about you and you found yourself skipping classes and opting to stay in bed. A serial killer being on the loose certainly didn’t help. 

The only sort of decent thing that happened was your friendship with Harry, after two times of healing in the hospital wing together you decided to be at least acquaintances. You held study sessions with the boy and occasionally his two best friends although all they did was bicker.  

You also happened to be outside reading when a rat lept on you and dove down your shirt leading to you being dragged into a tree by a dog who turned out to be a serial killer who turned out to be Harry’s godfather. But to be honest you didn’t really care.

You were absolutely livid, your leg was torn apart and for the third time in a row you had somehow been shoved into an adventure you most certainly didn’t want to take part in and you were bleeding heavily because of it. 

Oh yes, how could you forget? You were also almost killed by your professor, who had turned into a werewolf just in time to almost kill you again. 

When you woke up in the hospital wing with the golden trio surrounding you, you weren’t so pleasant.

A string of foul curse words, pointing fingers and yelling was shot at the three teens who apologized profusely insisting they did not mean to get you caught up in their business. 

You eventually calmed down and found out it wasn’t all that bad considering you got to see the suddenly very attractive dark-haired boy who made a point to spend all of his free time in the hospital wing with you as your leg healed. You shared a large amount of jelly slugs as you read muggle books and did your best to stay on top of studies.

Fourth year was much better than the last. You and Harry spent more and more time together and you felt a large crush on the boy who lived growing. Hermione knew about it instantly and Ron seemed adamant to tease both of you just for the joy of watching your faces flush. But good things never lasted.

You had a heart attack when Harry’s name came out of the goblet and found yourself taking his side in a sudden war between him and Ron. The bitch of a journalist Rita Skita also plastered you and Harry’s face all over the daily prophet when she caught you hugging him before his first task. You went with Harry to the ball although to both of your disappointment only as friends. And you ended up comforting Hermione in the hallway anyway. 

You also were almost drowned by your sorry excuse for teachers in the second task. Never one to back down from a fight you yelled directly at Dumbledor and Karkaroff saying how if your name wasn’t pulled out of that idiotic goblet than you shouldn’t have to almost die for the even more idiotic tournament. Of course, you did this with a very colorful vocabulary that landed you three weeks of detention. 

When Harry pulled Cedric from the maze you had cheered clapping along with the band until suddenly you heard the boy wail like a wounded animal. You raced down to meet him and helped pull him off of the elder boy’s body.

He was shaking the entire time and when you finally managed to drag him away he buried his head into your neck and sobbed. 

Harry was then dragged away by Mad-Eye and you were quick to follow, bursting in on the two just as Moody no longer became Moody. 

“Harry!” You yelled diving at the quickly transforming man who was holding him at wand point. 

Your body suddenly erupted in such harsh pain you thought you might throw up. 

“Y/n!” Harry’s yells fell on deaf ears as the unforgivable curse took all of your attention. 

By the time Harry was able to disarm the man, you had passed out from the pain. 

You woke up in the hospital wing three days later a disheveled Harry seated in a chair next to you his arms folded on your bed his head resting on them. 

When you tapped his shoulder lightly he jolted awake immediately engulfing you in his embrace sobbing out apologies as you pushed yourself closer into his chest. 

“I’m so so sorry y/n, I never meant for you to be caught up in any of this.” He choked out pulling away from you and cupping your face in his hands. 

“It’s okay Harry, I’m okay.” You spoke smiling weakly feeling extremely exhausted. 

“But he used an unforgivable cu-” 

“I don’t care, I’m just happy you’re okay.” You interrupted leaning into the soft circles his thumb was drawing on your cheek.

Harry’s eyes filled with an unidentifiable emotion and suddenly his lips were on your own. 

The second they connected he backed away blushing so heavily you were sure he was hot to the touch.

“I’m so sorry y/n, I don’t know what I was thinking and I-”

You only shook your head and wrapped your hands around his neck bringing his lips back to yours. His hands ended up on either side of you as you leaned back down on the bed bringing him with you. He hovered over you, your tongue slipping into his mouth as you played with the ends of his hair. He tasted overly sugary with a hint of fruit, just like a jelly slug.

You were interrupted by a cough followed by a low chuckle and Harry immediately pulled away from you and you turned to see not only your headmaster but Professor McGonagal and Madame Pomfrey all staring at you. 

Your eyes went wide and you felt so hot you thought you might catch the sheets on fire. You stole a glance at Harry who had paled dramatically, looking sick. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better y/n.” Dumbledore chortled. 

You hissed in at the pain that shot through your ankle. Your head had also begun to pound causing you to squeeze your eyes shut and attempt to relieve the pressure by pressing onto your temples. Fuck Umbridge. You hopped that bitch was dead, as your eyes began to adjust to the sudden brightness of your surroundings you saw an all to a familiar sight. The hospital wing had become your home away from home and now in fifth year you, it made sense you ended up there once again. 

When your psychotic headmaster dragged you, your boyfriend and your two best friends out to the forbidden forest as she was attacked by a giant she managed to hit you with some sort of spell which effectively left you in your current state. Harry who was seated beside you wrapped his arms around your waist and placed a kiss on your neck.

“You okay?” He asked he seemed stressed, then again when wasn’t he?

“I’m fine.” You lied with a smile pushing his glasses back up his nose. 

“I think you should stay here y/n/n, I can’t have you getting hurt.”  He frowned. You then took notice of the group of teenagers was behind him. They were clearly about to leave. 

“I think history has proven that kind of unavoidable at this point.” You sighed standing up and drinking whatever was on your nightstand, it turned out to be a pain medicine that tasted the equivalent of dragon piss. 

“Y/n...” Harry spoke hesitantly.

You turned to look at your boyfriend, your face set in stone. “If you don’t take me with you I will find another way to that building.” 

Harry sighed biting down on his lip, “Fine. Alright, guys, let’s go.”

Your lips twitched into a smile just as you were about to leave the room you noticed a small half-empty bag on the table next to your bed, you stuffed it into your pocket and ran after the group you had fallen behind. 

You sat silently eyelids feeling so heavy you thought they might close at any moment. Your entire body ached, your headache coming back stronger than ever, but you didn't let onto your pain. 

Harry had his head buried into your stomach as you combed through his messy hair, his sobs were the only sound in the massive black room. Sand was scattered around you as you clung to your boyfriend your back up against a black glass wall as you stared blankly ahead of you. Dumbledore stood a few feet away, seeming almost as lost as you were. Part of you hated him for putting Harry through everything he had just been through, but you knew it wasn’t his fault. 

Harry adjusted himself so his head was buried into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist. The movement caused something in your pocket to crinkle, catching your attention. 

You reached into your robe and removed a half-empty bag of candy. You smiled in spite of yourself. 

You tapped Harry on the shoulder whispering his name. He looked up at you his eyes rimmed in red, his face blotchy, the sight made your heart throb.

“Jelly Slug?” You asked your voice cracking.

The boy let out a mix between a laugh and a sob before lightly placing his lips onto your own. He tastes salty and bitter, like tears and blood. You found yourself wishing you were elven again when everything was simple, wishing that Harry still tasted like jelly slugs. 

Taglist:

(Realizing I forgot this last fic I posted, my bad)

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

Masterlist

[just-kys-fics]

Cold Hands

So, um, hi. I’m new here. I’m a writer. Specifically for fanfictions on this account. I’ll just get right to it.

My first fic here is going to be for the Trolls fandom. I got a prompt from https://prompts.neocities.org/ and stayed up until 3:30am because I just had to get it written out. That being said, there might be some parts that don’t make sense, and I apologize. I tried my best. :)

Anyway, here’s the prompt: 

So as you can tell it’s gonna be a little spicy. There’s two parts, and the second one is a lot spicier ;). I’ll let this first part sit for awhile before adding on.

Alright, you’ve been informed of everything you need to know. Keep reading at your own risk!

Cold Hands

Fandom: Trolls

Characters: Branch and Poppy

---

[During Trolls, Poppy's POV - 3rd Person]

Poppy shivered in her sleeping bag, rubbing her hands together to try and keep them warm. After all, it was only made out of a leaf. She sat up and looked over to Branch, whose gray form was turned away from her. Her pink gaze traveled to the area the fire had been, noticing that the flame was long gone. She huffed in frustration. If Branch was asleep and she woke him up, he'd get upset. But if he wasn't asleep and she interrupted his silence, he'd get upset. She closed her eyes and made a decision. If she had frostbitten fingers, there was no way she'd be able to save her friends. There was no choice.

"Br-"

"What, Poppy?" Branch growled, and she could see his entire body tense.

"Do you have anything to warm up my hands?" She decided to get straight to the point. If she wanted his help, she had to do her best not to make him lose his mind.

He didn't respond at first, and she worried that he wasn't going to. She waited for awhile before deciding to give up. She began to lay back down.

"Come here."

Poppy froze, startled by his voice. She looked at him with a dumbfounded expression, to which Branch rolled his eyes.

"Come here, Poppy. Do you want to warm your hands up or not?"

Not daring to utter a word, she slowly stood up from her sleeping bag, curious to know how he was going to help her. As she made her way over, he got up as well. Her brows furrowed as she noticed he had nothing in his hands, and a faint lavender blush was dusted across his cheeks. Was he okay?

"Now, I know you're probably not going to like this," he began, his tone soft. She had never heard him sound so gentle. "But this is the only thing I can think of other than rebuilding the fire, and that will take a lot more time anyway. And it will take away a lot of time that we could be sleeping. And it's just more work. But if you don't want to try this way, I'll build a fire. Y'know, a fire might be a better idea anyway because-"

Poppy raised an eyebrow as he continued to talk. Was he rambling? Did that mean he was nervous? Why would he be nervous? She didn't think he was even capable of the emotion. He always acted so proud and confident. She clenched her freezing fists, trying to stay on track. Nervous Branch or not, she needed to get her hands to a heat source. She placed a cold hand on Branch's shoulder, causing him to pause mid-sentence.

"Branch," she said, and he looked away. "I don't care what your idea is, but it feels like my fingers are going to fall off so please just get it over with."

He brought his blue eyes back to hers, and she saw an uncertainty there. What was he unsure of?

Branch shrugged her hand off of him and took a deep breath. One of his hands reached for the edge of his leaf vest and pulled it back to reveal a little more of his chest and midsection. Poppy stood there, not understanding. When she raised a questioning gaze back up to his face, she realized his blush had gotten significantly darker.

"The chest is one of the warmest parts of the body," he blurted, his words almost slurring together. "So if you put your hands there they should warm up." He gestured to his sternum, gulping.

Poppy didn't know what to do. This shyness was a side of Branch she had never seen, and she couldn't decide if she liked it or not. She didn't have time to make up her mind though, they were losing time to rest and her friends needed her.

She closed the small distance between them, getting within arm's length. She let her eyes move down to his exposed skin, wondering what it would feel like on her chilled hands. She tentatively reached a hand forward and placed the tip of her index finger in the middle of his chest, but quickly retracted it as Branch let out a sudden hiss.

"I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to hurt you! Did I hurt you? I'm sorry!" Poppy stepped back again, afraid he would yell at her.

"No, no," he said quietly. "It was just really cold. Here." He reached out and grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him. When she didn't protest, he guided her hand up and pressed it against his gray skin, and she gasped at the sudden warmth.

The princess was so absorbed in the new sensation that she didn't notice her companion's eyes snap closed or his grimace as he held in another hiss. She slowly brought her other hand up and placed it next to the first, humming in delight. This felt so much better!

The two stood there, unmoving, until Poppy's hands felt normal again. She glanced up to find Branch's eyes trained on her, and her heart skipped a beat. What was going through his head?

She began to remove her palms from his body and hesitated. There was something else in his eyes... Something darker. It was heated, like a small fire that was gradually growing. Poppy then forgot about the heat radiating from him and became very aware of the toned physique under her touch, and how fast his heart was beating. She broke their stare to allow her eyes to drift down and study the gray expanse. Her pink hands pressed against him before sliding down towards his torso, where she could feel muscles that had been earned with a lot of hard work. Her gaze raked over his body, and her fingers brushed over his abdomen.

She was frightened by a deep groan, and her eyes jumped back to his face. His breath was hot against her cheeks, and his eyes were even darker than before. She shook herself out of her trance, and she was becoming extremely conscious of their situation. She flushed a deep magenta and jumped away from him, finding an interest in the ground.

"I- umm... I-" Branch stammered, and she could hear his equal embarrassment.

"I'm sorry. Goodnight, Branch."

Poppy turned and shuffled to her sleeping bag, buried herself inside, and turned away from him. She could hear him quickly do the same. She sighed. What had she gotten herself into? Why had she done that? She knew one thing: nothing like that would happen again. And it was just a friendly mistake. They wouldn't talk about it. They won't even remember by morning. Right?

Okayyyyy, lemme know what you think :)

[yoongisgoawaydoormat]

Is it Harry you don't like or how he's been branded since the early 1D days? How the media pegged him as the front man when clearly there 5 great guys in the band? I'm just curious because I like Harry and the four other guys equally in terms of music, even before they started making solo music.

im gonna kinda combine this answer with an anon i should have responded to weeks ago “i've noticed you dislike harry, especially recently with him promoting his new music, but i'm not sure how/why it started exactly. could you explain??”

for me now it’s that i don’t like harry and that’s a position i’ve come to over the course of the past 2-3 years and i think i can break that evolution down into two broad categories: his relation to zayn (both pre- and post-march 2015) and how he has approached going solo (again both pre- and post-1d going on a break). 

and what’s most important about these two for me is that it is hard to explain away his actions in these categories as Harry Styles™; these are HIS choices, HIS words, HIS actions thus forcing me to dislike harry styles the person

for the sake of people’s dashes i’m putting a read more, but for those interested i’ve written a novel explaining these categories in more detail below (deadass i just copied it all into word and it’s 1500 words long..... im-.....)

1) how harry relates to zayn

i list his relation to zayn first because i truly believe this says something about his character. he has done things specifically re: zayn that have nothing to do with how he’s been branded in 1d or how the media has portrayed him; his actions that im going to discuss and that have most negatively affected my view of him are all on harry styles the person

it really started in the summer of 2014 when he waved the inflatable hammer of israel around at a concert during a time of heightened tensions between israel and palestine (and by heightened tensions i mean more war crimes and atrocities committed by the apartheid-esque occupational regime of israel). he asked those fans for that hammer, he is the one who has multiple zionist connections and could easily be considered a zionist himself. that’s on harry styles the person. meanwhile zayn tweets #FreePalestine shortly after that and is abused off of twitter. i recognize that the (racist) double standard here is not coming directly from harry but he benefits from it (and always has) and he plays into it and i can’t even imagine how zayn felt as a muslim man having to sit and watch his bandmate get a free pass for supporting a genocidal regime while he is eviscerated for one tweet of support. harry’s role in all this was the first moment i truly began to dislike him as a person

then we have his actions after zayn left. i will never claim to know what went down. im not sure we will ever know the whole ‘truth’ of zayn leaving and i’ve always said there’s shades of grey, no clear right and wrong, good and bad. it was messy but the bottom line is that zayn left (at least in part) because he was in an unhealthy state both mentally and physically and no one deserves that. so for all that the remaining four may have been justifiably hurt, confused, angry, etc. at things we can’t even possibly know about or understand re: zayn leaving, zayn deserves to be happy and healthy and people need to respect that. i do not think harry (nor his fans) respected that or zayn himself at all in the wake of him leaving. harry’s actions during mitam promo was, in my opinon, the most egregious and blatantly disrespectful. all four of them demonstrated sadness and/or bitterness at times but harry’s behavior (such as saying the ‘paperwork’ was the hardest part of z leaving, kicking a z mask off the stage, etc.) came across to me as petty, immature, spiteful and mean-spirited. it was not a spite that i saw in the other three. as a ztan (and also just a decent human?) i lost a lot of respect for harry in those months. i think these actions showed his true colors and those are not colors which i like very much.

also i’ve discussed this a bit on this blog but with the benefit of hindsight i do believe that a lot of those bitter actions re: zayn came from a selfish place of anger at zayn for ‘beating’ him to the solo game and from a place of ‘i’m going to villainize this person in order to make myself look better now and down the line.’ i think that was ‘proven’ for me when the build up for harry’s solo material included a LOT of very intentional mentions and comparisons to zayn. obviously that was something the media and people were going to do anyway but it was to a degree that felt sanctioned and encouraged; i think that comparison and that emphasis of ‘zayn as the evil judas who left, harry as the one who stayed until it was time’ was part of harry and his teams promo strategy (that backfired when SOTT flopped compared to pillowtalk, hence why i think those comparisons in big outlets have ceased, but i digress)... that’s a lot more of my own interpretation and my own reading of the info i have so it’s not as concrete as the stuff above but it does factor into my personal view of harry annnnnd it also connects nicely to my second point

2) his solo approach

now this is a more complex issue, and more of it *could* be attributed to Harry Styles™ but im going to preface my discussion by saying that harry chose his team. he’s been hanging with the azoffs on his personal time since 2013, his friendship with jeff has always been in our faces, he’s very clearly in the driver’s seat of his career at the moment, just as niall and liam appear to be (louis is a different and extremely nuanced conversation). he’s been angling towards his solo career for YEARS and while i don’t necessarily think that in and of itself is a bad thing (everyone in bands esp boy bands does that kind of forward thinking), i think the way he has gone about it is by stepping on his four bandmates in one way or another and i think that’s really fucking shitty. he has leveraged the existing Harry Styles™ frontman, standout image to catapult himself into this weird realm of ‘im above everything, im too cool, im already a legend’ promo.

on top of that kind of broad stroke stuff, some of his specific actions are just......... eye-roll worthy. i mean think about what the FIRST thing he did was after 1D went on a break? yachtgate. you can brush that off as a stunt all you want (and obviously in many ways it was) but it was a stunt that encouraged a certain solo harry narrative. it helped solidify him as the a-lister of the band hanging with jenners on fancy boats. it helped solidify him as a ‘star in his own right’ signing contracts and paperwork with jeff. it was a stunt that HELPED harry.

this is kind of a digression but i do think it’s important to note the nuanced difference between harry and louis’ ‘stunts.’ totally disregarding conversations of ‘real or fake,’ if we look at the major ‘stunts’ harry and louis have undertaken in their careers (and within this im including anything that could be construed as their ‘personal life’ being projected publicly i.e. eleanor, danielle, babygate, taylor swift, kendull jenner, etc.) harry’s stunts have always boosted his public image while louis’ have always hurt his. i know that’s an EXTREMELY broad and generalizing brush to paint with and im not trying to say that harry’s image has always been ‘good’, i remember the womanizer days i cant even imagine how much that hurt him and it sucks. but basically harry’s stunts have always made him more famous, putting him in an increasingly better position to convert Harry Styles™ into solo success. louis’ stunts have consistently done the opposite, giving him a SERIOUS uphill battle when it comes to the general public and mainstream media acknowledging his solo endeavors.

this is a discrepancy that exists between harry and ALL the boys, not just with louis (though the gulf between them is the most... extreme i’d say). harry has always been positioned above liam, niall and zayn too, and what i have a problem with is how that is being leveraged and leaned into rather than dispelled. harry could easily take the approach niall has which is constantly recognizing the good that one direction did for him. even if he didn’t want to be so overt he could have at least tried to be as polite and gracious as zayn was, who while recognizing that he wanted to do his own thing and his own music was very conscious to acknowledge the good bits of 1D. instead we have this weird almost antagonistic approach in his (sparse) interviews wherein it feels like harry treats 1d as this thing that was holding him back, something he is now free of. it’s a pretentiousness that i dont appreciate

the final thing i’ll add in this section is in how he and his team are treating the fans that he does have. i am not one of those people but at times i feel quite bad? and sorry? for harries who are investing their time and money and effort into an artist who seems hell bent on ignoring them. this aloofness is demonstrated on his social media, i mean has he taken time to interact with or thank fans once????? the whole tour ticket debacle sounds horrendous and im sorry for fans that don’t get to go because harry and his team bungled it. there’s just a distinct...... disrespect for the fans he was bringing with him from the 1D days and that’s frustrating.