#yeah we know there’s a difference between fans and freaks but to her it’s all valid reasons to pull back

[iwatcheditbegin]

The pullback from fans is something that’s been slowly happening for years now, and then people just got even more weird, invasive and downright dehumanizing.

I know we’re not her friends or anything but there’s definitely been a big difference and it is sad. I miss when she felt she could trust us more. But I really don’t blame her for distancing herself bc people have been showing their ass with their lack of boundaries

[yourbiggestcrybaby]

Just My Type

Billie Eilish x Fem!Celebrity!Reader

No warnings

Billie is stuck at a boring red carpet event but then she sees you. At first she assumes you are just another silly superficial Hollywood celebrity but soon enough she realises you are just her type.

Billie glanced around the event hall, barely hiding her boredom as she tugged at the hem of her oversized shirt. Everything about this charity gala was drenched in glitz and glam, from the sparkling chandeliers to the elegant gowns and tuxedos that seemed almost too stiff to be real. She felt totally out of place, shifting her weight and debating how soon she could duck out without causing a scene.

And then she saw you.

You were standing near the center of the room, laughing and chatting with a small group. Your pink satin dress shimmered under the lights, perfectly hugging your curves, and your hair was styled to perfection, not a strand out of place. Billie’s eyes couldn’t help but linger, taking in the glossy lips, the subtle highlighter, and the aura of confidence you carried as if you were born for this kind of scene.

Her gut instinct kicked in immediately. Definitely a mean girl, she thought, trying to dismiss the weird flutter in her chest. You looked like the type who’d dismiss her in a heartbeat, probably scoff at her clothes, maybe roll your eyes and walk away with a haughty laugh.

But for some reason, she couldn’t stop looking. There was something about the way you moved, the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed. Billie scolded herself for caring, tearing her eyes away and busying herself with the phone in her hand.

She was scrolling through random messages when she heard someone clear their throat nearby. When she looked up, she was hit with the sight of you standing directly in front of her, a curious, open smile playing on your lips. And now, up close, she could see the tiny sparkles in your eyeshadow, the way your cheeks had a natural blush, and—she’d never admit it out loud—the way her heart was suddenly racing for no good reason.

“Hey… Billie, right?”

She blinked, caught off guard. This girl actually knows who I am?

“Uh, yeah.” She shifted awkwardly, suddenly hyper-aware of her slouchy outfit compared to your perfectly put-together look. “And you are…?”

“(Y/N),” you said smoothly, reaching out a hand. Your handshake was warm, firm, and strangely comforting. “I’m a huge fan, actually. I’ve been listening to your music since… well, forever. I’m kind of freaking out getting to meet you like this.”

Wait, what? Billie blinked, caught between disbelief and something she couldn’t quite name. She’d been so ready to write you off as some stuck-up socialite, but here you were, looking at her like you actually cared. Like she wasn’t just some famous face, but a person.

“Oh… cool. Thanks,” she said, trying not to look too flustered. “Didn’t expect someone like, uh… you to be into my stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow, your expression shifting into a look that was both curious and amused. “Someone like me?”

Billie bit her lip, feeling a little embarrassed, but she couldn’t take it back now. She gestured to your dress, your nails, the whole polished, effortless look you had going. “Yeah, y’know. Fancy. All done-up.”

Your eyes sparkled with laughter, and you let out a soft, genuine laugh that caught Billie completely off guard.

“I get it. Trust me, I know I can come off as a little… well, Barbie-ish,” you said with a playful wink. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel like a mess half the time. I really am a big fan, though. You manage to put a lot of what I feel into words and that’s pretty rare.”

Billie softened, nodding slowly as she took that in. She was used to people giving her compliments, but it hit differently coming from you. You seemed to get her as unexpected as it was.

She tried to play it cool, shrugging. “Guess we all feel like messes. But, I don’t know, sometimes I just get tired of pretending.”

You stayed like that for a while, talking about everything from music to weird food combinations, telling stories that had both of you cracking up and feeling like you’d known each other way longer than a few minutes. Billie found herself glancing down at her feet, hiding her smile more than once, trying to keep cool.

Eventually, you glanced over your shoulder, a bit reluctant. “I should probably find my friends; they’re probably wondering where I wandered off to.” You hesitated, looking at her with this expression that made Billie’s heart race again. “It was really nice meeting you, Billie.”

And before she could stop herself, Billie blurted out, “Wait! I, uh…” She ran a hand through her hair, a little embarrassed but determined not to let you just walk away. “I don’t wanna be here either. Wanna sneak out? There’s probably a nice spot somewhere where we can actually talk without… all this.”

You grinned, and there was something mischievous in your eyes. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The two of you slipped out of the event hall, Billie leading you down a back hallway she’d spotted earlier. You pushed open a side door, and it led to a quiet garden, empty and dimly lit by a few string lights hanging from the trees. It was quiet, peaceful, and a world away from the buzzing event inside.

The cool night air was a relief, and Billie leaned against a nearby bench, watching as you gazed up at the stars, letting out a contented sigh.

“This is way better,” you murmured, glancing back at her with a soft smile. “Thanks for rescuing me.”

Billie chuckled, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Guess we rescued each other.” She shrugged, feeling a little bolder now. “You’re actually… really cool, you know that? Way different than I thought.”

“Same goes for you,” you said, stepping a little closer, so close she could catch that faint hint of your perfume. “I thought you’d be, like, intimidating or maybe hard to talk to, but you’re just… you.”

Her breath caught, and for once, Billie didn’t have a witty reply. She just looked at you, caught up in the way your eyes reflected the string lights, and realized just how hard she was crushing.

The two of you stood there in comfortable silence, her hand brushing yours accidentally, lingering a little longer than either of you expected.

Maybe parties weren’t so bad after all.

[goblinontour]

Weekend Rockstars

alex finds himself in a new situation after a show on their first tour

warnings: smut, masturbation, glory hole, handjob, blowjob

word count: 2.8k

Berlin was cold. Cold, cold, cold. He’s been so fucking cold all day. The band had a show tonight, but they got there early to set up and everything. Alex felt bad for the few people that were lining up outside because he was still cold even inside the venue. He didn’t even want to think about going out. 

He didn’t know if it had to do with his nerves too or what, but he couldn’t stop shivering. It was so bad that their manager asked him if he was okay. Was he? Yeah…Yeah, he was. It was only their first gig ever in Germany. No big deal. 

Nope. Who was he kidding, he was freaking out. He always got nervous before shows but especially in different countries where he couldn’t even understand what people were saying. He did pick up a bit of German from his mum, but it proved to be completely useless. He still didn’t understand shit.

“Mate, you alright?” Matt asked, concern lacing his voice as he looked for his drumsticks. 

“Yeah, just freezing my arse off.” Alex replied, trying to laugh it off, but it came out shaky.

“He'll be fine once we get up there." Jamie chimed in, adjusting his guitar strap. "You know he always gets like this before a big show.”

Nick walked over, offering him a bottle of beer. “Drink this. It'll warm you up. And stop worrying, the crowd’s here to see us.” 

Alex took the drink, grateful for the gesture, but it did little to calm his nerves. He glanced out from the wings, the crowd already buzzing with anticipation. So many people. He still hadn’t gotten used to it.

The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. The stage lights flickered on, casting an eerie glow over the instruments. The noise from the crowd grew louder, crashing against the walls of the venue.

“Showtime, boys.” their manager called, giving them a thumbs-up.

As Alex stepped on stage, the cold seemed to dissipate, replaced by a different kind of feeling. It was as if a switch had been turned on in his body, making him sweat and feel like he was burning. The roar of the crowd hit him and he felt like he was drowning. God, stop it Alex, you’re so dramatic, he thought to himself. 

He grabbed the mic, looking out at the sea of faces. “Hello, Berlin!” he shouted, his voice surprisingly steady despite all his nervousness. The crowd erupted. 

The first chords of the song rang out, and the energy was electric. Alex could feel the connection between him and the audience, a pulsing thread between them. It didn’t matter that he didn’t understand their language anymore. 

As they launched into the next song, Alex caught sight of a girl in the front row. She mouthed the words along with him. But this girl wasn’t just any fan. He’d seen her before, many times. She wasn’t even close to just a stranger in the crowd. She'd been following them around on tour for a few weeks now, appearing in the front row at almost every show. She seemed to like him, always making sure to catch his eye during the performances, and he liked her too. Maybe it was the allure of him being in a band for her, but he didn’t mind that as long as he knew he had someone he could have a little fun with after the shows. And fun she was.

Their ‘thing’ had started innocently enough, a few stolen glances during the first show she attended, a brief chat afterward. But it escalated. They’d hook up in the bathrooms of random bars they went to, or just backstage, anywhere really. He didn’t care. He was a rockstar! After tonight's show, he knew they’d find each other again. It was becoming a routine. The anticipation of the encounters they’d have added a new layer of excitement to each performance. 

Between songs, Alex found himself speaking to the crowd more than usual. He even made a few awkward attempts at German, which the audience thankfully seemed to appreciate. Each time he stumbled over a word, the crowd laughed and cheered, so he didn’t get that embarrassed about it. By the time they reached the encore, Alex was drenched in sweat, his earlier chill a distant memory. Long forgotten. 

As the cheers echoed in his ears, they took their bows, and Alex stepped off the stage, his heart still pounding. The rest of the band clapped him on the back, their smiles wide and genuine. 

“Told you it’d be alright.” Jamie said, grinning.

Alex laughed, a genuine, relieved laugh. “Yeah, you did.”

But the moment he was out of the spotlight, his thoughts shifted to her. Would she be waiting by the backstage door like she always did? Fuck, I need to fuck something. 

The answer came quickly. As he stepped into the dimly lit hallway backstage, he saw her, leaning casually against the wall, a sly smile on her lips. 

“Great show.” she said, her voice barely audible over the ringing in his ears.

“Thanks.” he replied, taking her hand and pulling her closer to smack his lips onto hers. 

They didn’t waste time. They could easily escape from the rest of the crew since they were all busy on that post-gig high. They found a secluded spot, a small storage room that offered just enough privacy. It was frantic. Urgent. Seizing every opportunity without a second thought.

Their mouths collided, tongues tangling as Alex’s hands roamed over her body. He grabbed her boobs, squeezing them through her shirt, his touch rough and impatient. Messy was the best way to describe it. He had a lot of energy and he liked to put it to good use. He didn’t need much time, he didn’t need it to last, he just wanted her. Now. 

He pressed her against the wall, his breath hot against her neck as he moved his lips down to her collarbone, nipping and sucking. She moaned softly, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands slid down to her waist, gripping her hips as he ground against her, the friction so delicious. 

In one quick motion, he unbuttoned his jeans, the fabric sliding down just enough. He grabbed her hand, guiding it to his erection over his boxers, making her palm him. She squeezed gently, her touch making him groan with need.

“Fuck.” he muttered. 

But of course, one of the guys had to shout at him from outside, breaking the moment. “Alex, we gotta go!”

He swore under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. “Fuck.” he whispered, looking at her with frustration in his eyes. “You coming with us?”

She shook her head, a regretful smile playing on her lips. “I can’t tonight.”

“Oh come onnn.” he said, giving her his best puppy dog eyes, hoping to change her mind.

She laughed softly, cupping his face in her hands. “I really can’t.”

“Fine.” he sighed, fixing his pants back up, the urgency of the moment dissipating. He leaned in for one last kiss, his lips lingering on hers. “Next time, then. You’re coming to the next show, right?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

She nodded. “Won’t miss it.”

With a final kiss, because he couldn’t get enough, he stepped out of the storage room, irritation still bubbling inside him. Only to see the culprit who had interrupted him by the door. Matt. Tapping his drumsticks against his thigh impatiently. Alex gave him a death stare, his frustration evident.

“Sorry, mate, but we really do have to go.” Matt said, looking somewhat apologetic but mostly amused.

Alex zipped up his jacket and adjusted it the best he could to cover up his hard-on, trying to make it at least a bit less obvious. He took a deep breath, willing his body to calm down as he followed Matt towards the exit.

The rest of the band was already gathered, the post-show rush of activity swirling around them. Alex joined them, trying to focus on the conversation they were having and not on the lingering heat left in his body. 

The venue was closing, and despite the decent crowd they’d gathered, they still had to follow the rules. They packed up their gear and made their way to a nearby bar, the cold Berlin night pushing them inside where the warmth and drinks awaited.

Inside, they ordered rounds, and Alex drank until the edges of his mind blurred and the chill in his bones was replaced by a comfortable fuzziness. 

Jamie returned from his trip to the bathrooms, a mischievous glint in his eye. He nudged Alex out of nowhere, causing him to nearly spill his drink.

“Al, you have to go in there.” he said, quite insistently. 

“Why?” Alex asked, confused and still a bit irritated.

“Just go, please.”

Alex was drunk enough to not think about it more. He shrugged, set down his drink, and made his way to the bathrooms, unaware of Jamie’s barely concealed laughter behind him  as he rejoined the others.

Inside, he decided he might as well pee since he was there. He stumbled into a stall, fumbling with the latch. As he relieved himself, he realised he was still a bit hard from earlier, the alcohol breaking all his inhibitions.

Without much thought, he started touching himself, slowly wrapping his hand around his dick and gliding it up and down. The sensations were heightened by his inebriation, and he found himself getting lost in the moment. He didn’t even realise he was making noise, his low groans echoing off the tile walls, unsuspected. 

Then, out of nowhere, he saw a hand pop out from a hole in the side of the stall. He froze, his breath catching in his throat.

“What the fuck?” he thought out loud, panic rising in his chest.

“Do you need any help?” a voice asked. Her voice sounded nice, but it only made him freak out more. What. The. Fuck.

He tucked himself back into his jeans hastily, his heart pounding as he practically ran out of the stall. He burst out of the bathroom and made his way back to the guys, his face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and residual arousal.

“Why the fuck did you send me in there?!” he demanded, glaring at Jamie.

Jamie laughed, exchanging amused looks with the others. “So you could get your fix since we ruined your moment with that girl you keep bringing around. Go back in there, punk.”

“I’m not going in there.” Alex said, shaking his head.

“Why not?” Nick chimed in, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s weird!” Alex tried to defend himself, but his voice wavered, the memory of the hand and the voice still fresh in his mind. She really had a nice voice. 

“Well, we’re not gonna help you.” Jamie said, smirking.

“Yeah, Al, just go.” Matt added, grinning.

And then the others started chanting “Go. Go. Go.” in unison, their voices growing louder and more insistent.

“Shut up.” Alex said, but they wouldn’t. They continued, their voices echoing in his head, the alcohol making it harder to ignore.

Finally, with a frustrated growl, he took himself out of the situation and stormed back to the bathroom. Whatever. He was too drunk to care anymore.

As he entered the bathroom, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He glanced at the stall where the hand had appeared, a mix of curiosity and nervousness filling him. With a resigned sigh, he approached it, his heart beating faster with each step.

Alex knocked on the side of the thin wall of the stall. His voice was barely above a whisper as he asked, “You still there?”

He hesitated, afraid to look over and see. He’d heard about this stuff before, but he never thought he’d find himself doing it. Was he supposed to even talk, or...?

The silence stretched out, making his heart pound even louder in his ears. He didn’t get an answer, not a spoken one anyway. But then he saw that same hand peek through to his side of the stall.

Alex swallowed hard, his mind racing. He could feel the alcohol buzzing in his system, clouding his judgement and amplifying his curiosity. Tentatively, he reached out and touched the hand, his fingers brushing against the stranger’s skin. It felt surreal, like he was caught in a dream he couldn’t wake from. The hand didn’t pull away, but instead, her fingers curled slightly, as if inviting him to take hold.

He hesitated for a moment longer before gripping the hand gently. It squeezed back, and he felt a strange excitement wash over him. This was happening. Whatever this was.

With his other hand, he fumbled with his jeans, the fabric rustling in the quiet of the bathroom. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but the need for release, amplified by the alcohol and the earlier interruption, was too strong to ignore.

The hand on the other side moved, fingers tracing a path along his wrist, guiding him with an unspoken understanding. His breath hitched as he followed the lead, his body reacting instinctively.

He closed his eyes, trying to block out everything but the sensation. The hand moved rhythmically over his length. He could hear his own breathing, ragged and uneven, mingling with the soft sounds of the person’s movements on the other side. 

He didn’t think anymore. He positioned himself properly and guided his dick through the hole, immediately feeling the stranger’s hand wrap back around him, getting a better grip now. 

“Oh fuck.” He bit his lip to stop himself from making any more noise.

And then he felt the familiar wetness and that warm feeling. She took him in her mouth. And he almost crumbled. He didn’t even know why the fuck he felt so affected, but the whole situation fucked with his head. Not knowing who was on the other side. And not even caring. Just feeling the pleasure. Feeling everything he could want right now.

He pressed himself as close to the stall wall as possible, the rough surface rubbing against his skin as he moved his hips, unable to keep himself still. His belt buckle clanged against the partition with each thrust, the sound echoing in the small space. He was losing himself in the sensation, the pressure building rapidly inside him.

He stretched his arms above his head, his fingers barely reaching the top of the partition, but he just needed to hold onto something, anything. His hands gripped the edge tightly, knuckles turning white as he gave himself over to her rhythm. 

His hips bucked uncontrollably. He was completely at the mercy of the stranger on the other side, her mouth working him with a skill that left him breathless. This was probably the best blowjob he’d ever got. His breaths came in short, desperate gasps, his entire world narrowing down to the sensations, to the intoxicating heat enveloping him.

The orgasm hit him hard and fast, his body tensing as he let out a strangled groan. He felt himself release and how she was swallowing around him. It left him weak and trembling, slumped against the wall.

For a moment, he just stood there, trying to catch his breath. The reality of the situation started to sink in. He withdrew himself, quickly tucking his spent cock back into his jeans and fastening his belt. He wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling a sudden confusion envelop him. 

He could hear her moving on the other side of the stall, the rustling of clothes and the soft thud of footsteps on the tiled floor. Then the sink ran for a bit, the sound of water hitting porcelain loud in his ears. She was washing up, and he felt a strange pang of regret, thinking that maybe he should say something. But what was there to say? The water stopped, and the creak of the bathroom door opening and closing meant she was gone. 

Alex took another deep breath, trying to steady himself. He stumbled out of the stall, his legs feeling unsteady. He splashed some water on his face at the sink, the cold liquid shocking him back to a slightly clearer state of mind. He looked at himself in the mirror for a second. He needed to get out of there before he overthought everything.

a/n: i wrote this in third person, not with “you” cause i felt like it fit better. also i did little to no research regarding how glory holes actually work so i don’t care if it isn’t accurate. and idk why i chose to set it in berlin but they actuallt had their first show in germany there in november 2005 so it fits perfectly. title is from fake tales of san francisco and it’s quite funny how it’s followed up by “are in the toilets” 💀

tags: @4chaos @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @hellcatshalalalaa @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

Daily Dose of Solas-Posting Time/just a love of what love can achieve I guess?

I think a lot of people in this fan space struggle to distinguish the apparently very blurred line between "oh look, this poster likes Solas and must therefore condone murder to achieve one's goals", and "rad, she understands that this is a game in which characters do things she would never approve of in real life but given the fact that these are all tiny people on a screen she enjoys extrapolating larger themes"

And for those of you in that second camp how freaking beautiful is it that we get to see one of the oldest saddest elves go on an absolute bender and still get the chance to make things right because he has a friend/lover who knows his heart and refuses to let him hide from it any longer.

Varric disapproves of trying to save him at the end of Trespasser and clearly at some point within the next eight years goes "you know what? This sassy nerdy passionate guy was my friend once and I believe in what he could be if he gives up on the self-destructive path he's chosen"

Harding struggles to fathom what the Inquisitor sees in a disingenuous clefted egg but knows that if nothing else she trusts her friends and for all my critiques of Veilguard I do think Bellara gets a baller of a line with the "trust your heart, it is a good one" banger. Harding may not know exactly how she feels about Solas (and yeah that is so fair) but she knows the Inquisitor's heart is a good one, and if they're trying to save him, she trusts it. She chooses to believe that in an ever-darkening world there is power in restoring a little bit of light.

Your Inquisitor has the option to be like "wow this guy was my friend, occasional confidante (and potentially the most brutal love of my life), fought alongside me and guarded my life as I guarded his, and spoke so wistfully of things I did not understand at the time but now realize came from a place of deep grief. The way he's acting now stems from hurt and trauma and I know it'd be easier to just stab him with his own dagger but what if what if what if..."

And if you're able to look at his story at its simplest (if you're able to see past the broken man and into the spirit of wisdom he once was, if you will) it's really just the grandest version of pre-EA Bioware's bread and butter theme for at least a few companions per game: even the most broken people are capable of changing themselves and ultimately the world for the better if those who can reach out a hand do. And the Inquisitor only has the one hand to reach out, in fact they only have that one hand because of the very man they're hunting down, but if they can find it in themselves to extend it, damn. It brings a broken man back to his feet after an absolutely brutal confrontation of his past and helps him stand tall and face what's coming next in a way he wouldn't have been capable of otherwise. It lets Solas, who is at his absolute lowest, know that someone he strongly admires, who can relate to the challenges he once faced as the young leader of a massive movement, sees the parts of him that just want to do what's right but can't quite remember how anymore.

And to someone who hasn't fought in a war or forged the tools that wrecked entire civilizations, sure maybe that wouldn't hit as hard. But who amongst us hasn't betrayed the core of who we are to make others happy and regretted it? Who hasn't charged down a path that sent thorns digging into their skin with every step because to stop and turn back means facing everything they've done to get there? Means admitting they were wrong? Who hasn't hit a low and crawled their way back to themselves again because that hand came down and refused to let go?

To someone like that, like me, it can make all the difference in the world to see it go down on that tiny little screen.

Mmmmm there's just so much power in having even one person who sees you self-destructing at your worst and goes "not on my watch" and I love that most of these games have brought us such beautifully simple yet meaningful ideas in so many different ways.

[sgiandubh]

Show must go on...

... and rather very much in your face, mind you.

Scottish Xena posted two stories at about 7 AM, counting calories, and, in the process, making sure to address roughly any objections that were ventilated on this side of the fandom, including this very page. See for yourself...

What are the odds she'd be talking about nutrition? Right. I am not an idiot. I know when something is way Over The Top - less is more, Xena. Less is always more: there was no need to overdo it like that, placemat and all, if you wanted to remain credible. You read us and you have been instructed to do so, just to perfectly stick to your walking, talking and very profitable Local Innuendo script.

Fair enough. And then, you also tell us that you will be at Hyrox today around noon, to film some ESN promo: your bread and butter, of course. S is just for shits, giggles and that Instagram yield:

So, there's that. *urv connecting dots like crazy, without having the slightest clue of what was discussed at that table. Her own brand of cheap fanfic for the masses, for the other five clowns commenting, out of which three at least are her own sock accounts.

Cue in the Useful Idiot. The Brazilian Tourist and Fan. Uma senhorita tão desagradável, who changed her story in between her first reaction reel and the debrief, back at her suburban Airbnb or where the fuck that was filmed.

First reaction reels:

'Just saw SH.' Not alone, oh no: 'com uma moça'. With a girl. So yeah, she had qualms asking for a pic.

First lie and dramatization. She posts a message for S where she explains she did not dare approach him, but she saw him alright. The one in Portuguese is completely different, though: 'I am going to post the video without sound, because I could only say "what a shame", while I was filming him on the sly. LOL.' I guess she thinks we are all idiots, or something. Also, in her reel, she confirms: 'ele estava almoçando com outra pessoa'/he was having lunch with another person. So far, so good, right?

Six hours later, a second debrief batch of reels, taking her reader's questions. The narrative changes, with a strong bias:

'Yes, he is super accessible and educated! I did not freak out, I just politely asked to take a pic (what I do consider the right way to approach famous people, at the end they are still human beings).'

For the people in the back: she is a lady. And a liar. The worst kind of liar, actually: a narcissistic one. Let's see what else she takes great pains telling us: 'ele tem um fandom bem tóxico'/he has a very toxic fandom. From now on, we just know what to expect, right?

Second answer, she explains he is very tall. He went inside to pay the bill and then he also went towards the bathroom (wtf?), she followed him inside, she asked for the menu, he finally went out and she approached him ('abordei' - 🙄) between the door and her table. Classy.

Cue in to a third answer (and second lie) to a very odd question: 'what did he smell like?' or something along those lines. For this one, I had to ask confirmation from Shipper Mom, who told me two things (she knew next to nothing about the whole episode- no bias): ' it's damn hard to understand what the hell she is talking about, she is eating half of her words. Plus you can tell she is lying.'

He doesn't smell, she tells us. But hey, she also freaked out a bit, finally (I thought she hadn't?!) and then well, 'ele estava com outra pessoa, uma moça, deve ser a namorada dele'/ he was with another person, a girl, probably his girlfriend'. But then he went inside (again? wasn't he coming out of the venue?), 'and the girl stayed at the table'. Things go murky afterwards, like they absolutely always do: she tells us she spoke to her (?), but would not say anything more, yet making sure to tell us she 'saw both of them'.

If anyone has a better version than mine, please step forward: we listened three times in a row, with Shipper Mom, a teacher of Portuguese and published literary translator. She was appalled by this young woman's carelessness and mendacity.

The Brazilian Tourist Fan is 23 years old (and it shows), she presents herself as a journalist and writer:

Seriously? What are the odds?

And finally, to wrap it up, the classical cheering moment, at yesterday's Hyrox: ' yeah, Sarah, nice!'

Nice, indeed.

FFS. Will it ever end?

Yes, it will. Anything ends: even Stalin's terror.

[makeste]

Do you actually believe the DFO theory? What do you think supports it? (Genuine question)

I do think Deku and AFO have a yet-to-be-revealed connection, and back in my early BnHA fandom days I did think Dad For One was a possibility. nowadays though, I'm convinced there's a different explanation for the link between them -- namely, that OFA and AFO are actually the same quirk, and Deku is effectively a horcrux of AFO. I have a post here which explains this theory more in-depth, but basically the gist of it is that OFA was never a separate quirk at all. Yoichi really was quirkless, and when AFO attempted to force a quirk on his brother, he accidentally gave him a piece of his own quirk in the process. just broke off a lil section of it, like a Kit-Kat bar.

I will say that regardless of which theory turns out to be true, there's definitely something going on between AFO and Deku. chapter 217 in particular is practically overflowing with hints that the two are linked. Katsuki sees it right from the start, and even theorizes that AFO might have something to do with the SIXQUIRKS activating. and rather than disagree, All Might simply says "I didn't want to raise that point," meaning he made the connection as well. and then they just freaking drop the entire subject never to mention it again. and Horikoshi lays this panel on us as a parting gift.

which to me is confirmation that we'll be revisiting this at some point. simply because you do not lay the symbolism on that thick without some kind of game plan for the future. this isn't merely setting up OFA and AFO as foils; this is deliberately (and ominously) drawing attention to the numerous "coincidental" similarities between their two quirks. such as the fact that OFA is the only other quirk capable of holding multiple quirks within itself. and the only other quirk capable of being passed down to another user.

not to mention there's also the as-yet-unexplained link between Deku and AFO. the fact that Yoichi can "hear" his brother, and vice-versa. back in Jakku, the pre-Danger Sense Deku somehow knew that Tomura was awake before anything had actually happened. and when Deku first activated SIXQUIRKS, AFO was somehow aware, even miles away locked up in Tartarus. and we're just supposed to pretend this is all perfectly normal and makes total sense, lol.

so yeah there is definitely some sort of reveal coming up before this all ends. but I think DFO is more likely to be a red herring at this point. Horikoshi definitely knows about the theories, and that's probably why he still hasn't revealed anything about Dekupapa. he's the Hagakure in this scenario. distract me us with speculation about her, when in reality Aoyama was the culprit all along. it's the same tactic here. convince all the fans that AFO is Deku's father, when in reality the truth is even more insidious. he's not Deku's dad -- he's Deku's quirk. and the final final boss, secretly lurking not within Tomura, but within Deku himself.

tell me that's not the perfect final showdown setup. you know it's true. you know it's coming. or at least I hope it is lol.

incidentally, during the process of typing this all up, it occurred to me that if AFO is capable of creating horcrux!quirks (which we know for a fact he is regardless of how this theory pans out, since that's essentially how TomurAFO was created)... then why not Deku as well? which immediately led me down a whole new different theory rabbit hole. that's going to have to be its own separate post, though. my mind is now going a mile a minute, holy shit. this is going to be a busy weekend.

[levihanskid]

‘Till the End of the Line: Bakugo Katsuki’s Twin AU chapter 2

Ch1 ao3 link wattpad link i'm sorry this took so long, vet school is killing me ;-; this chapter has been sitting in my drafts for so long but the latest episode made me finally do it

The following months have been extensive for both Katsuki and Mitsuko. They tried to be consistent with their morning runs, but there were times where one or both of them would sleep in. Mostly Mitsuko, which pissed her twin a lot. After school, they would spend an hour improving their physical condition and stamina, and another hour training with their quirks. All while trying to keep up with their studies and reviewing for the entrance exam.

Ten months had passed, and the twins are now walking towards the enormous gates of UA High School. They took the written exam a few weeks ago, which was easier than they expected. Today is the day that the twins are anticipating the most, the practical exam. Mitsuko felt a mix of emotions as she looked up the school’s crest on top of the gate. She’s nervous, but at the same time she’s excited and can’t wait to put her training to use.

As they entered the school grounds, a familiar curly green hair caught her eyes. “Hey look, it’s your bff,” she nudged her brother.

From a few feet away, Midoriya Izuku stood at the middle in deep thought. Probably freaking out on the inside.

“Out of the way Deku!” Katsuki yelled.

“Kacchan! Micchan!” Izuku called in surprise.

Mitsuko visibly cringed at the nickname he used to address her and eyed the boy. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Move it! Or I’ll kill you!” her brother spat, unaffected by the childish nickname.

The boy immediately stepped out of the way and stuttered. “G-good morning! Let’s uh— let’s do our best!”

The twins didn’t say anything back, but she gave him a small smile before continuing to walk to the building.

“Isn’t that Bakugo? From the Sludge Villain Incident?”

“Yeah. And that’s the girl from the video. They’re twins aren’t they?”

Mitsuko is used to people murmuring about them, given that her brother is a big show off. This isn’t the first time they had people talking about something that one of them did, so she chose to ignore the whispers and looked ahead.

Inside the auditorium, they were greeted by the Voice Hero, Present mic. Mitsuko sat next to her brother, as well as Izuku who chose to be seated next to them and is currently fan boying over the pro hero at the podium. Katsuki tried telling him to shut up, but the boy kept muttering to himself and Mitsuko had to lean away from his direction to avoid getting distracted.

“As the application says, you’ll be participating in a ten minute battle in a mock city. Get ready! After this, you will head to your assigned battle center.”

She looked at her examination card, and then glanced over her brother’s.

“In other words, they’re not letting friends work together, huh?”

“You’re right,” Izuku agreed, his eyes glued to the blonde boy’s card. “We have consecutive numbers, but different centers.”

“Don’t look, want to die?” Katsuki threatened. “Tch. Now I can’t crush you, damn it.”

His last words made the curly boy move away a bit and turn his attention back to the stage.

“Makes sense,” Mitsuko whispered, her focus still on her card which displayed a letter C while her brother got A. “The exam is meant to test our individual abilities. They wouldn’t want us to tag-team.”

Present Mic continued his presentation. He went on to inform them about the types of mock villains they will be facing and that each type represents 1, 2, and 3 points each. They were also told about the gimmick villain that they’re supposed to run away from since it’s just there to cause trouble and not give points.

She played with her fingers as she tried to listen, making sure she knows every detail.

“Stop fidgeting,” her brother snapped. “It’s annoying. Why are nervous anyway?”

“I don’t know. It’s a mix between excitement and anxiety. And this orientation is taking so long,” she replied, intertwining her fingers to keep them steady.

“You’re right. We’ve heard enough, I can’t wait to crush those bots. Think you can get a hundred points?” her twin asked, still looking ahead. Although it’s obvious that he’s also starting to get restless.

“A hundred might be impossible, considering the time limit, the competition, and the fact that we won’t have any idea where the villains would be.”

“I can make it possible,” he brother scoffed. “And I’ll make sure to get the first spot.”

“Is that a challenge?” she raised a brow. “Whoever gets less points have to do the other’s chores for two weeks, then.”

Katsuki grinned at the raised stake. “Deal. Let’s show these extras how it’s done.”

***

Mitsuko tried containing her loud heartbeats as she stood before the door where the exam is going to take place. After the orientation, they were directed to change out of their middle school uniforms and get on the bus that would take them to their respective battle centers. She had changed into a white racerback tank top and some sweat pants.

The format of the test is very fortunate for her, since her quirk can easily be utilized. She imagined how those with quirks that only works to people would do against robots.

“Let’s do our best!” she heard an excited voice. Mitsuko looked over her shoulder to see a girl with pink hair and pink skin talking to the people around her with no tinge of awkwardness. They locked eyes for a moment.

“Huh? Why do you look familiar?” the girl looked at her with a hint of recognition.

Before she could respond, the voice of the hero Present Mic echoed through the speakers.

“Start! What are waiting for? Real fights don’t have countdowns!”

Mitsuko didn’t waste any second and ran inside the training grounds, using her quirk to propel herself forward.

She saw a couple of number 1 and 2 robots straight ahead. Without any hesitation, she pointed her palms toward them and willed her quirk out. Her forearms glowed in bright white-yellow color. The light traveled onto her hands into her palms before blasting to the direction of the robots. They exploded with the contact, leaving electric sparks and smokes.

“Nice quirk ‘ya got there,” a voice from behind commented. Mitsuko whirled around and saw a boy approaching her. He’s got blonde hair and gray eyes, but what caught her attention (in a bad way) was the annoying smug face that he has.

She didn’t reply, so the boy continued. “Must be nice having a quirk so flashy, huh?”

He tapped her on the shoulder, and a look of recognition flashed across his face for a second, before being replaced with a smirk. “Weren’t you that girl from the video? Didn’t expect you to be here after all that shit talking to those heroes.”

The smirk was one thing, but his words made Mitsuko’s blood boil. Her red pupils dilated and her right eyebrow raised as she tried to stop herself from blinding the guy. She shouldn’t be distracted right now.

Another batch of robots showed up, and she thanked the heavens for giving her an excuse to walk away from where she’s currently standing.

“Sorry, but I don’t have time for a chitchat,” she said in a monotone voice, swatting the guy’s hand away from her shoulder.

She ran to destroy the robots, but before she could stretch her hands out, quick flashes of light reached and blasted them into pieces. No, those were not just lights, they look too much like hers.

She looked back to where the lights came from, confusion clearly visible from her face.

“Whoops! Sorry for stealing points from ‘ya, but I gotta do what I gotta do, don’t ‘ya think?” it was the same blonde guy, still wearing his irritating smirk. He turned on his heel and began walking away. “I’ll be having this flashy quirk for a while, better make use of it!”

Those words confused her even more. Did he just get her quirk?

She shook her head and put her focus back on the exam. Shit. Was he trying to stall me for some reason?

The exam just started, but she could’ve gotten more points if she wasn’t standing around having a one sided conversation with that guy. She can’t afford to waste more time.

She flew around the grounds looking for more targets, blasting her quirk backwards to levitate and propel herself faster. Taking down every robot she encounters along the way as quickly as she could.

She was at 23 points, if she counted correctly, when she reached the area where a lot of the kids are gathered. Present Mic’s voice echoed through the speakers again.

“We have reached the half time!! Five minutes left before the exam ends!!!”

She saw a bunch of robots with different points surrounding the students. More people means more robots to see them as targets. Just as she figured.

Mitsuko jumped over, smirking in satisfaction as she shot her quirk out at every single robot within her sight while using her flexibility and agility to maneuver herself.

The kids stared at her in awe. “What an awesome quirk she’s got.”

“Isn’t she the girl from that one video?”

“Hey! Leave some points for us!” one of them shouted out.

She continued gathering points, keeping herself airborne using her quirk and sometimes stepping on the robots to use them to keep her momentum. She kept going, faster and quicker, not letting the others steal points from her again.

By the time her feet touched the ground, all of the robots around the area were already blown into bits. Mitsuko wiped the sweat from her forehead and tightened her ponytail. She also noticed her arms glowing a bit. She must’ve used up the stored energy in her body since it’s currently absorbing sunlight again.

“You are so cool!! Those movements were amazing! You look like you could be a great dancer!” the same pink girl ran to her with enthusiasm. Mitsuko just noticed a pair of horns protruding out from her pink curly locks.

“I don’t dance,” she replied, looking around for more robots to destroy. She realized she lost count of her points after her exhibition earlier.

“Really? You should try! The way you’re moving while fighting is awesome!”

“I came here to be a hero, not a dancer,” Mitsuko cut the girls’ blabbering. “Sorry, but I really don’t have the time to–“

The ground shook, and a loud grumbling mechanical sound cut her last sentence. She looked up to see a huge robot approaching. It’s the zero point they were supposed to run away from.

Anyone with no balls would run away from that thing, all right. She thought to herself.

“Let’s go! That’s a no-pointer!” the pink girl pulled the back of her top.

Before they could take a step back however, the robot continued to stroll through the streets, destroying the buildings and causing debris to fall down.

Talk about keeping the damage to a minimum!

People began to scatter in a panic. Everyone was pushing trying to run away.

A huge piece of the building’s wall caught Mitsuko’s attention. It was plummeting into the direction of the students, specifically the pink girl. Mitsuko didn’t even realize that the girl started running off. The girl was looking over her left shoulder, seemingly trying to call Mitsuko to join the retreat. While the debris was coming from her right side, a complete blind spot.

She hasn’t trained much to target moving objects, not to mention fast ones. So she decided not to try and shoot it while it’s falling down.

Her next action was caused by the heat of the moment. It was a crazy idea, but she prayed it would work.

Mitsuko ran towards the girl faster than the rock. When she reached her, she pushed the girl out of the way and produced the strongest energy barrier she could muster. It was a move she’s been improving for the past year. It worked against her brother’s attacks, so she’s hoping that it’ll work against the huge piece of rock.

It did. Sort of.

She was able to stop the debris without her barrier faltering, but its weight and momentum was too heavy. She couldn’t free a hand to blast the rock into pieces. Now she’s stuck holding both her hands up to maintain the barrier.

She heard the pink girl grunt from behind her, and a spray of acid splashed onto the lower part of the rock causing it to move a little. In that given moment, Mitsuko quickly released her barrier and used her quirk again to make the rock explode.

The debris was casting a shadow over her so unlike before, her arms seemed to glow brighter. The rock blew up into pieces, but her body continued to glow a little as it absorbed sunlight to compensate for the energy she just lost.

Mitsuko turned around, panting as bits of sweat began forming on her forehead. She saw the girl trying to stand on her feet, but she couldn’t seem to put weight on her left foot.

“Can you run?” Mitsuko asked.

“No, I think I sprained my ankle from falling down earlier. Why’d you have to push me so hard anyway?!” the girl exclaimed.

“Huh!?” Mitsuko’s brows furrowed. “How is that my fault?! I just saved your ass!”

They didn’t have more time to argue, because the zero-point robot was nearing their position. As much as she hated it, Mitsuko took the girl’s arm over her shoulder and began moving. The people had thinned out, the other examinees must’ve managed to run off far from where they were.

Great. That just made their situation worse, because now the only targets the robot has was the two of them. And it’s currently aiming its enormous metal hand to swat them like little flies.

Despite trying to convince herself that UA wouldn’t allow anyone to get killed for an entrance exam, Mitsuko’s wracking nerves still got the best of her.

With gritted teeth, she let go of the girl’s arms, “Take cover!” she yelled and turned around to face the giant villain. She raised her arms, still glowing from the absorption, and waited for the perfect time to blast. But before that perfect time came, she felt a sudden smack behind her head.

Anger and confusion took over her as she tried to process what just happened. Mitsuko looked around with furrowed brows and saw a guy walking past her.

The annoying blonde kid from earlier stood in front of her and threw an energy blast towards the hands of the robot. Just like their first encounter, his blast looked so much like her quirk. The villain stopped, and the boy snickered before looking back at her. “I never planned to go after the gimmick, but I thought you needed saving,” he said in an arrogant voice which made Mitsuko’s mind ring in irritation.

“YOU FUCKING COPYCAT!” she began stomping towards him.

“Oh, you finally figured it out? You’re welcome, although that’s not a very nice nickna—“

“ARE YOU STUPID?! THAT ATTACK WAS SO WEAK IT WON’T EVEN MAKE A SCRATCH!”

There was a loud metallic creaking sound. Mitsuko looked up, the smokes are gone so she could clearly see how right she was. The robot is still standing, not even a dent could be seen in its huge hands that is now coming down to them faster than before.

She muttered a curse before running to the right side, leaving the other two frozen in their place. When she reached the right spot, she raised her arms once again and acted as fast as she could.

She willed her quirk out, this time much stronger and concentrated than before, making her entire arms glow instead of just her forearms. The light traveled through her hands and palms before shooting out, her legs almost giving up from the shot's recoil. It hit the robot’s elbow, just as she planned. Her attack was powerful enough to pierce through its armor and cut its forearm off, stopping it from hitting the other kids.

Panting, Mitsuko then just realized that she lost track of both the time and her points. She was about to run to gather more points when Present Mic’s voice echoed once again.

“TIME’S UP!”

“Dammit!”

[gonzoclock]

Do you have any fun deleted scenes or scrapped ideas from your fics? I know whenever I start writing a fanfiction they always evolve until I’ve all but scrapped the original premise. Also huge fan of your work, thanks for being such a huge inspiration to me!

Boy do I ever! (And as such this is going to be a LONG post, so buckle in.) (Also full of VERY OLD VERY FIRST DRAFT writing. Fair warning and all.)

In James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, (pause for breath) and the Prisoner of Azkaban I initially was going to just... keep writing. Have Regulus be back, explore the ramifications of that, etc. Unfortunately it was just... boring. So boring. So I scrapped it and decided to cut it down to where it currently ends. And trust me, that's for the best. That said, here is a sample of what that could have looked like (ft. a conversation between brothers):

Regulus takes a deep breath in through his nose. He needs to calm down, or he’s going to fall over. 

“Okay,” he says, opening his eyes. “Alright. Who’s Lord Black?”

“Me,” Sirius says, then pauses. “Uh, old me, I mean. I call him Senior, but he hates that.”

Regulus makes a note in his head to call old Sirius Senior, then immediately dismisses the notion. If Sirius, old Sirius is really Lord Black, then Regulus needs to be respectful. Even if the idea gives him hives.

“I need to talk to him, then,” Regulus decides. “Right now.”

“Are you sure?” Potter cuts in. “You could take a couple days? Term has already started, but it’s only been a week- you could get resorted and all settled into school, and then talk to Old Man Sirius?”

Regulus is shaking his head before the older boy can even finish talking. “No, I need to talk to Lord Black. He’ll tell me what to do.”

“You are not going to be impressed with him,” Sirius warns. “Because- and I cannot emphasize this enough- he’s me. He’s treating the title like I would, Reg.”

Regulus takes a second to let himself feel horrified, then shakes his head again. “Still,” he decides. “It would make me feel better. I need- I need to see the house.”

“Alright,” Sirius sighs. “Okay. We need to get you cleared by Madam Pomfrey, but then we can go.”

Regulus hesitates, then nods. 

“And- Regulus?” Sirius asks. Regulus braces himself. “He’ll probably freak out a bit when he sees you. It’s been around thirteen years for him since you died, and, well. He’s me.”

“Ah,” Regulus says. He thinks for a moment about how he’d react if he found out Sirius had died, and decides instead to think about literally any other thing. 

“We’ll go get Pomfrey,” Lily says, tugging Potter with her. Regulus watches them go, then blinks. 

“Hang on, why are they here? They weren’t on the Tapestry.”

“Oh,” Sirius says, then laughs. “The Tapestry was your origin story, Reggie. Me and James came from a magical Map, and Lily and Severus came from a book. The Philosopher’s Stone reacts to Blood Magic in a really fascinating way, yeah?”

“You- Severus?”

Sirius and Severus’s rivalry is legendary. And by rivalry, Regulus does mean bullying. It’s bullying.

Sirius sighs. “Yeah. We have to be friends now- or Lily and James will cry on us. Neither of us are very happy about it.”

“You’re not even- you’re not even secretly cruel to him?” Regulus asks, reeling. 

“Ha, nah. Turns out- and Reg, I will absolutely not hesitate to cram you back into that Tapestry if you go spreading this around- but it turns out that he’s… not a bad bloke. Just a bit prickly.”

Regulus sits back down on the bed, stunned. Sirius pats his back in commiseration. 

Regulus doesn’t even care that much about Severus, or who he’s friends with. What he does care about is that, apparently his brother is capable of… growing? And changing as a person? 

Maybe Regulus should re-examine his own views, since apparently nothing is sacred and anything goes.

Then there's Peter Pettigrew and the Ghost of Christmas James, which initially was going in a WAY different direction, if only because I sort of went into it with like no plan at all. Regulus was going to come into the story way earlier, as he'd just been hanging out at Grimmauld. For no real reason I can remember, either. He was just chillin. Here's some of that:

Peter’s never been to Grimmauld, but based on the stories Sirius had told them about the place, he’d expected darkness and dust and an overwhelming feeling of suffocation. 

Instead, the floorplan inside is surprisingly open (with a sitting room to the left and an office to the right, and stairs leading to the next floor just after that), the wooden floors are polished and gleaming, the windows are clean- it’s not cheery, not exactly, but it certainly doesn’t hold any of the doom and gloom Peter had been expecting. 

Despite the warmer-than-expected atmosphere, Peter feels very cold all of a sudden. Because not only are things clean, and (dare he think it) welcoming, the house is lit. Which means-

Someone rounds the corner, holding a steaming mug of what is probably tea. At the sight of Peter, Harry, and James still standing in the doorway; he freezes. And then, for a long moment, he simply stares.

Peter just… stares back. He is completely at a loss here. What the hell does he even do- should he be going for his wand? Can he- is this a fight he’s going to be able to win? He has no idea.

What he does know is that he’s getting really rather sick of all these dead people. 

“Hey, Regulus,” James finally says, albeit rather weakly. “You’re, uh, looking good.”

Chapter Break

James is right, of course- Regulus is looking good, surprisingly so. He’s wearing a sweater and casual slacks, and his long black curly hair is tied up and out of his face with what seems to be his wand. Around his neck is a chain, with an ornate looking ring strung through it and resting next to what might be an amulet of some kind. 

Most impressive of all is, of course, the fact that he’s not dead. In fact, Peter would go so far as to say that he looks very much alive- other than the fact that he seems to have a rather gray-tinged tone to his skin. 

Peter almost laughs at the absurdity of it all. What is his life? 

Unfortunately, true or not, James’s words break Regulus out of his stupor. In an instant, almost faster than Peter can see, he has his wand out and pointed directly at Peter.

“Drop the boy,” he says, wand unwavering.

Harry’s arms tighten around Peter’s neck at the same time Peter tightens his hold on the kid. His stomach swoops unpleasantly. He doesn’t remember how good Regulus is at dueling, but he doesn’t really want to find out with Harry right here. 

“I think the fuck not,” Peter says, keeping his voice as level as he can. 

“Yeah, no,” James says, arms folding. “We’re not-”

“Potter, I don’t know why you’re- back, or what’s going on, but you should know that Pettigrew is-”

The fear that had been mounting turns instantly to an icy-cold rage. Hypocrite.

“Is what,” Peter asks. “A Death-Eater? Because if you want to compare forearms, I’d be more than happy to-”

“Oh, fuck off,” Regulus says, glaring. “You know as well as I that the brand has nothing to do with it. One of the two of us is responsible for that child being orphaned, and it’s not me.”

“Maybe we should-” James tries again, but Regulus isn’t done.

“Kreacher, take the Heir to the nursery, please. Keep him safe.”

Peter has the time to tighten his hold on Harry before suddenly he isn’t holding anything at all. 

He doesn’t especially remember what happens next- all he knows is that one second, he’s standing empty-handed in the hallway, and the next he’s got Regulus against the wall, wand pressed into his neck. Regulus’s own wand has fallen on the floor in the interim. 

“Give him back,” Peter says. The rage, fear, guilt, everything that’s been a near constant for the last week- all of it is gone, leaving nothing but a sickening light-headed feeling in their place. 

Regulus’s eyes narrow, but he makes no move other than that. 

“I’ll kill you,” Peter says. He’s not bluffing. He couldn’t bluff right now if he wanted to- there’s nothing but cold calculated rationale sitting in his chest right now. If he kills Regulus, they can start tearing the house apart looking for Harry. If-then, cause-and-effect. Easy-peasy. 

Something in his eyes must show his thought process to Regulus. He swallows once- then forcibly relaxes his face again. “What makes you think it’ll stick this time?” Regulus asks. “Didn’t last time.”

 Peter is about to cast a cutting curse to Regulus’s throat to test that theory when-

“Regulus,” James says. 

And in an instant, the fear is back. Peter can’t help it- he tenses up. Regulus does too- and his eyes widen, looking over Peter’s shoulder. 

James’s tone is the cheeriest Peter has heard it be in a long time. But Peter doesn’t think that’s what Regulus is worried about, since to anyone but a Marauder James would simply sound pleasant rather than terror-inducing. 

Peter risks a look behind him- and then he throws himself back from Regulus, pressing his own back to the wall across from him. 

To the outside observer, it would look like James hasn’t changed at all- still just a ghost in a white sheet, with those two infernal eye holes cut out of it.

But there’s- Peter had thought those eyes looked like black-holes before, but that’s nothing compared to now. He can’t look away- James looks somehow both smaller than he is, and larger than anything else in the house. It’s like he’s turned himself into a point at the center of the universe, the pinprick before the big-bang. 

Peter has never had the misfortune of running into a Dementor, but he thinks that being kissed by one might feel something like how he feels now, just looking at James from fifteen feet away. 

“Bring my son back to me, please,” James continues. 

Regulus licks his lips, then clears his throat. “Kreacher, will you- bring the Heir back to us, now?”

Just as quickly as Harry had been torn away from him, Harry is suddenly back in Peter’s arms. Peter can’t help it- he sinks to the floor, gathering the kid close. His heart slows considerably at the familiar weight of the boy in his arms, the feeling of his arms around Peter’s neck. 

“Harry, are you okay?” Peter gets out, before he has to take in a huge gasping breath. Huh- he had definitely forgotten to breathe.  

“I met a new best friend!” Harry says, seemingly completely unfazed by what’s just happened. “His name is Kreach! Also Wormy, can I be a dragon when I grow up?”

“You can be whatever you want to be, bud,” James says. When had he floated over here? His hand waves through Harry’s hair again. Harry giggles, then rests his head on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter feels somewhat frozen. He just wants to get out of here, out of this place that Harry could be taken from them at any moment for any reason, never to be seen again. At that thought, Peter’s stomach twists. He feels nauseous. 

When the fuck did Harry manage to sneak into Peter’s heart? He’s a kid. Peter doesn’t like kids. 

Except this one, apparently. Damn it all.

Oh well, something to worry about another day. At least James seems to be back to normal. 

“Well,” Regulus says, hand clutching around the ring hanging around his neck. “That was… something. You can leave, now.”

Peter thinks that’s a great plan.

Then there's Regulus Black and the What the Hell, where originally the beginning focused much more on Harry and Luna and their silly hijinks. (Also fun fact: the horcrux in Harry's head was originally pulled out by Luna and turned into a half baby, half snake, which means by the time they got to Regulus he had two children AND a baby to worry about. Fortunately for him, I scrapped that idea.) Oh, and then I also had Regulus deciding to go to Severus Snape, which I managed to write all of one chapter of before realizing it was crazy ooc of him to even consider that lol. I can't find where that is, so I must have deleted it, but it existed once. Anyways, this sample is actually canon compliant with the posted fic, so take that how you will:

“Why- um, why are you here?” Harry asks finally, letting the snake down. 

“I followed a light,” Luna responds. Her face crumples again for a second, but then she clearly forces her expression to relax again. “I thought it would take me to my Mummy, but it just took me here.”

“Um,” Harry says. “Okay?”

Luna is staring at him again, her big eyes zeroing in on his forehead. 

“Does that hurt?” She asks. 

Harry’s hand reflexively reaches up and touches his scar. He runs his fingers over its bumpy spidery lines, zigzagging across a good half of his forehead.

“Sometimes,” Harry says, bringing his hand down. 

Luna reaches her own hand up and brushes her fingers over it. Harry holds his breath and sits as still as a statue as he feels her cool fingers run over it. Her brow furrows, and she frowns. She presses her fingers against his head a little harder. 

“Um,” Harry starts. 

“Sh,” Luna says. 

Harrys ‘sh’s. 

Luna’s eyes narrow, then she sits back again, looking satisfied. “I think I can fix it,” she decides. 

Harry blinks, although his heart is soaring. “Really?”

If Luna can get rid of his scar, maybe the Dursleys won’t think he’s a freak any more!

Luna nods. “It might hurt, though,” she says. “It’s really stuck in there.”

Harry sits back, thinking hard. 

“I can manage hurt,” Harry decides. “Do it.”

Luna nods again, face serious. Harry screws his eyes shut as she reaches her hand up again. 

At first he doesn’t feel anything other than her feather light fingers on his scar. 

Then there's a slight pulling feeling- which very rapidly goes from a gentle tug to an intense feeling of being torn apart from the inside out.

Harry doesn’t cry out, though- Harry’s not sure he could if he wanted to. He doesn’t have the air. 

It feels like it lasts hours. Then, with a final snapping sort of sound, the sensation stops and Harry topples over. He feels warmth trickling down from his forehead and down his face, past his eyes and nose and into his mouth. He thinks he tastes blood.

Harry gasps as he opens his eyes.

The girl is on the ground, either fainted or dead. Harry crawls over to her, grabbing at her arms despite the pain pulsing in his head. He props her up on his legs. Her head lolls, and he gives her a little shake to try and get her to open her eyes. She doesn’t- but she does take in a shuddery gasp. 

Harry looks around wildly. He doesn’t know what to do, but he needs to do something. He can’t just leave Luna here- if Petunia sees her, she’ll probably lock them both up in Harry’s cupboard. 

Instead of finding a solution, Harry freezes as he hears the back door begin to open. 

Chapter Break

The back door slams open, so loud that Harry jumps what feels like three feet into the air.

“HEY! Are you out here?” 

Harry lets out a long shaky breath as he sees his cousin walk outside, taking the porch steps down into the garden two at a time, and landing as heavily as he can each time. 

Dudley isn't ideal, but he's also not Petunia or Vernon. All in all, could be worse.

“Where are you? Mummy said you had to play with me,” Dudley calls, casting around the garden. 

Harry doesn’t think that’s true at all- Petunia prefers Dudley to ignore Harry. It’s Vernon who encourages the playing. 

Regardless of who it was, though, it doesn’t change the fact that soon Dudley is going to see Harry, and then Luna. Harry gasps.

What if Dudley wants to play with Luna? Dudley’s games hurt, and Luna can’t be hurt! She’s Harry’s best friend.

Harry has maybe seconds before they’re seen- what does he do?

It’s too late. Dudley sees Harry, and his eyes light up.

“What,” he asks, stomping over to where Harry is standing. “Is that?”

Harry tries in vain to position himself in front of Luna.

“Let me see,” Dudley says, stepping forward. 

“No,” Harry says.

“What?” Dudley asks, stopping.

Harry can’t blame him- bad things happen when Harry tells his relatives no. Harry knows that, and so do they. So Harry doesn’t say no, not if he can help it.

Harry grits his teeth. 

“No,” Harry says, stronger this time. “She’s just pretend.” “No she isn’t,” Dudley says, still looking a bit confused. That’s good- if he’s confused, then he’s not yelling for his parents. 

“Yes she is,” Harry says, nodding. “How else could she have gotten here?”

“She coulda climbed the fence,” Dudley says, kicking a lump of grass at the sleeping Luna. It falls just short. 

Harry shifts, thinking fast. 

“But where would she have come from before that? I pretended her.” 

“Well,” Dudley says, developing a shrewd glint in his eye, “if it’s all just pretend, it won’t hurt nothing to let me see. I want to see.”

“No,” Harry says firmly. “I’m pretending she’s poison- if you touch her, you’ll die.”

“That’s not fair,” Dudley says, expression turning thunder-y. “Move!”

He takes another threatening step forward, and Harry takes a reflexive step back. Too late, he realizes that he’s stepped right into one of the holes he’d been digging in the garden. He just manages keep from squashing Luna.

As he lands with a jolt, Luna shifts slightly. Harry looks back at her, then up at the slowly approaching Dudley.

Dudley smiles- it’s a cruel smile, one that Harry knows to mean that someone is about to get kicked, or bit, or hit. Or all three.

 Harry is usually alright with that- well, not alright, but it is a fact of life. The only thing is that he’s not the only available target right now- and he can’t let Dudley hurt Luna. He just can’t. 

Harry casts around, looking for something- anything- that could be used to keep the girl safe. There’s nothing, nothing but grass and weeds and- and a stick. A twig, really. Harry still reaches for it, then brandishes it up at Dudley. 

“Stay back,” Harry says, a bit shakily. 

Dudley laughs. “What,” he says. “You gonna cast a magic spell on me? With your fairy wand?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, narrowing his eyes. 

Behind him, Luna stirs again. Harry pushes down a wave of panic as Dudley’s eyes flicker to her. 

“Yeah,” Harry repeats, waving the stick around a bit. Anything to keep Dudley’s attention on him and not on Luna. “I’ll- I’ll turn you into a bug!”

Dudley gets a perplexed look on his face, then bursts into laughter.

Luna lets out a little groan, then props herself up. Harry’s heart leaps, then sinks again. He doesn’t know if Luna is going to be any help at all.

“Did it work?” she asks, squinting at Harry. 

“Who are you?” Dudley asks, sobering up. 

“Oh,” Luna says, looking past Harry and over at Dudley. She stands up, albeit a bit unsteadily, to face the boy. “I’m Luna. Who are you?”

“Want to play a game?” Dudley asks, plastering a fake smile on his face and brushing past her question. 

“No! Go away!” Harry says, a bit desperately. 

“Shut up, freak,” Dudley says, stomping down hard on one of Harry’s legs. 

Harry’s vision abruptly goes white, and pain bursts like stars in his head. As the sharp pain recedes, it leaves a pulsing sort of burning pain in its place- Harry can’t be sure, but he thinks his leg might be a bit broken now. It sure feels like a worse version of how his wrist had felt when that had been broken last time. 

When his vision clears, Harry realizes that he’s drawn his leg up to his chest. He’s shaking, and his cheeks feel wet- either his scar has started bleeding again, or he’s crying. 

“Baby,” Dudley spits. 

Harry just glares, biting on the inside of his cheek to keep himself distracted from the pain in his leg.

“What sort of game?” Luna asks, seemingly unbothered by Dudley’s violent outburst. 

“It’s called chase,” Dudley says, eyes snapping back to Luna. 

“How do you play?”

Harry shakes his head, and Luna’s big blue eyes flicker over to him. 

“Easy. You run- I chase,” Dudley says. 

“What happens if you catch me?” Luna asks, sticking her hands in the pockets of her overalls. 

Dudley smiles. “Nothin,” he says. 

Harry shakes his head again, biting down even harder. He thinks his cheek might be bleeding.

“Shut up, freak,” Dudley says, turning to look at Harry again. 

Harry can’t help but pull his other leg up too- he wouldn’t put it past Dudley to go for a round two. 

Dudley looks about ready to do just that when Luna says, “okay. Sounds fun. When do we start?”

Dudley’s smile is back. “I’ll give you a three second head-start,” he says. “One-”

Luna reaches out, placing a cool hand on the top of Harry’s head. 

“Two,” Dudley continues, grin widening. 

Harry squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Th-”

Chapter Break

“I forgot to ask what happens if we win,” Luna says, frowning.

Harry would respond, but he’s a bit busy dry-heaving onto the ground. The hard-floored, definitely-not-Little-Whinging ground.

“Where are we?” Harry asks, once he feels a little less like his stomach is trying to twist in on itself. Although- his leg does hurt so bad that every time he breathes it sends up little shooting reminders right to the back of his neck and then back down again.

Despite this, Harry looks up to take in his surroundings. They seem to be in a breaking down house, of some kind. It’s dark, and quiet, and dusty, and sort of makes Harry think of his cupboard- safe, but claustrophobic.

For some reason, Luna has started running around the room, waving her hands in big sweeping motions. It looks like she's trying to clear away a bunch of bugs- only Harry doesn't see anything of the sort.

“I dunno,” Luna muses, finally slowing down. “I followed one of your lights again. I feel really tired, now.”

“Oh,” Harry says. “Are you gonna-?”

Luna plops herself onto the ground, then simply lays down and closes her eyes. 

“Okay,” Harry says.

That's about it for published fics (the werewolf one has TONS but I haven't finished it yet so I don't want to share anything in case I use it, and my main series was surprisingly straight-forward), but I also have a couple other scraps of things that are otherwise never going to see the light of day, so here's what I have written of the first of those:

Prologue

“They say you’re the best,” says the stranger. Filch doesn’t know who he is, or what he looks like- he’s wearing a too-large hat, and an odd sort of cloak that obscures his features. He’s twirling a stick of some kind between his gloved fingers. 

Filch lets out a snort. “I wouldn’t say the best,” he says, “but I am pretty damn good.”

“I’ve heard the stories,” the stranger insists. “If you aren’t the best, I don’t know who’s better.”

“You haven’t done very much research then, son,” Filch says. “And you’d best start doing some now- I’m retired.”

The stranger leans back in his chair. “This one is worth coming out of retirement for,” he says. 

Filch can’t help but snort again, nearly choking on the laugh. “I’ve heard that one before.”

The stranger seems to stare at him from underneath that hood, then gets up to leave. “Very well- I’ll see myself out.”

Filch narrows his eyes. No, hang on. “I never said I wouldn’t hear you out,” he says. “I agreed to meet you, didn’t I?”

The stranger doesn’t relax, not quite- but he does settle back. “I thought you might say that.”

“Well?” Filch says, leaning back in his own chair. “Get on with it, then.”

The stranger leans forwards. “Tell me, Detective. Do you believe in magic?”

Chapter One

Argus swears to himself as he trips over a chunk of fallen armor. 

The cat chirps at him- he thinks she might be laughing at him. 

“Bugger off,” Filch mutters. 

The cat meows, twisting around Filch’s legs. He feels a rush of warmness for the thing despite himself- Filch has never been one for animals, but over the last decade he’s grown to appreciate cats in particular. Not that he’d ever willingly admit it to anyone, of course. 

“You think you’re so funny,” he grumbles. 

The cat chirrups again, then bolts off, leaving Argus to clean up. 

It’s hard to believe that Argus has been at this for a decade.

Or rather, hard to believe that it’s been just a decade. Magic notwithstanding, this has been one of the worst cases he’s ever taken on. Argus doesn’t even like children. Much less rich children. And rich magical children? Forget it. 

Sure, there's the occasional bright spot in the darkness- that Percy Weasley is almost enough of a good egg to atone for the sins of his brothers. 

As if. That’s not even close to true- it would take half a million Percy Weasleys to make up for one Fred, or half of a Charlie. 

Argus still doesn’t know how that boy managed to get so many damn baby dragons into the castle, and the fact that that’s on the (extremely short) list of cases he hasn’t been able to crack haunts him to this day. 

But that Nymphadora character- well, they’d been a headache and a half to manage, but they're the only student in the last ten years that got even close to recognizing Argus for what he is: namely, a damn good detective. 

The fact that they’d then immediately decided to turn Moriarty to his Sherlock is irrelevant- at least the ‘rivalry’ had been entertaining. At times. And the cat liked them well enough, at least. 

Enough to help them out on their escapades, even.

On second thought, there are no bright spots and all children are nothing but blights upon the face of the planet. 

Argus lets out a long sigh as he drags the bottom half of the suit of armor back to the pedestal. 

A decade. 

Argus had already been getting on in years when he’d officially retired- and now he’s nearing sixty-two. This case has taken a decade from him. Argus would’ve dropped it long, long ago- if not for the fact that the stakes are so goddamn high. 

Well, and the money. 

Argus was already pretty well off, but now he’s worth at least a few million dollars. Or he would be if he didn’t keep giving it all away. 

Damn bleeding heart- he curses his father every day for passing on that fucking moral compass. Why couldn’t he have gotten his mother’s coldness on top of her brains? 

Eh, whatever- it’s not like he needs the money anyhow. 

Besides, there is every chance in the world that Charlie Weasley would have stayed on as an assistant to the Care teacher had he not received an ‘anonymous’ grant giving him the means to get to Romania and into the program there- and Argus really would have given up on the case at that point, consequences be damned.

And then the first little bit of a particularly crack-y one:

In Which Kreacher Would Rather Die Than Let the House of Black Fall (And Gets Into a Loving and Committed Relationship With a Dementor About It)

Kreacher has been a staunch defender of the House of Black for millenia. Kreacher is old, even by Elf standards. Kreacher knows the magic, the family, the home, better than anyone else. Ever. 

Kreacher also knows that nothing lasts forever. 

Walburga Black, Lady Black, is as good as dead. Kreacher feels no one way about this. 

Orion Black is dead. Kreacher feels no one way about this. 

Sirius Black is imprisoned. Kreacher hates Sirius Black, Kreacher hates him, Kreacher wishes every day that Regulus had been born first, but Kreacher knows that isn’t the way and Kreacher knows that Kreacher hates Sirius for not being his brother more than anything else. And for the last three years, Sirius Black has been in Azkaban. For something he didn’t do, the Heir has no traitorous bone in his body, but nonetheless: Sirius Black is in Azkaban, and Kreacher can do nothing about it. 

Regulus Black is dead. Kreacher feels-

Pain. 

Besides the point. The Lady is useless, the Heir imprisoned for life, the- the Spare, deceased… there’s no point in denying it. The House of Black is ending. 

Kreacher just- and Kreacher does blame Regulus for this, that irritating boy that managed to worm his way into Kreacher’s heart enough to leave an exit wound on the way out- Kreacher just hadn’t anticipated it ending so soon. 

Except… 

There is one left. One more chance. 

Lady Black is useless, now. Kreacher knows this- he knows this because the magic knows this. Every day, the magic siphons more and more from Lady Black’s title, sending it Sirius Black’s way instead- the soon to be newest Lord Black. 

Kreacher is not one to question the magic’s judgment. 

Kreacher is one to grumble incessantly about it, though, and he will be damned before something ridiculous like the fall of the House of Black keeps Kreacher from doing just that. 

Soon, Sirius Black will be Lord Black. And there is to be an Heir Black, too. 

The child is not a Black in name. But the magic doesn’t lie- and for whatever reason (Kreacher will not question the magic’s judgment, Kreacher will not)- that means, Harry Potter is his last chance. 

Kreacher isn’t supposed to do this. But the House of Black isn’t supposed to fall, either. So Kreacher will interfere.

The stream of magic is as familiar as it is invigorating. Kreacher reaches out to it, wrapping its ribbons tightly around his own magic- although they look and feel nearly identical- and lets it carry him away. Away from the House, away from Kreacher’s home- towards the Heir. 

At first, Kreacher doesn’t know where he has ended up. Then, the dust clears- and Kreacher still doesn’t know where he’s ended up. A cupboard, of some kind, by the looks of it- a small one. And it’s occupied.

The little boy stares at Kreacher with huge green eyes, catching the only light filtering in through the closed cupboard door.  

Kreacher levels the most vicious glare he can at the thing. Kreacher is planning on using the boy to revitalize the House of Black, but he certainly doesn’t need to play nice to do that. And with the boy’s dark brown skin and unruly black curls, he has a distinct Potter look about him (aside from the eyes)- which means Kreacher is already less inclined to be nice than he already would have been to begin with. 

Still, he can’t just ignore the Heir, and Kreacher has questions he’d like answered. For one- “Why is the Heir in a cupboard?” 

The boy looks around, as though seeing it for the first time. Then, his gaze returns to Kreacher. He doesn’t say anything. Kreacher sighs. Enough of this. 

“Come with Kreacher,” Kreacher says, reaching a hand out. 

The boy doesn’t move. He just stares. Kreacher narrows his eyes. “The Heir is coming with Kreacher,” Kreacher says. 

Kreacher would just take the Heir. But for as little as Kreacher is supposed to be doing this, he’s not technically breaking any rules. But taking the Heir without the Heir’s permission? That would be breaking the rules.

Fortunately, the Heir is a child. And children love nothing if not to make deals. 

“If the Heir returns with Kreacher, Kreacher will provide the Heir a treat,” Kreacher says. 

The Heir’s eyes narrow further, and for the first time, Kreacher is realizing how small the thing is. Kreacher knows children, knows what they should look like and when. The Heir is four. The Heir should not look like he is two. 

Kreacher adjusts his tactics. 

“If the Heir returns with Kreacher, Kreacher will provide the Heir a meal,” Kreacher says. “Supper.”

The boy considers another moment. He is smart- of course he is smart. The magic may have limited options, but… Kreacher knows for a fact that there’s other children of the House of Black it could have chosen. This is, for whatever reason, the best choice. Which means the boy is- at the very least- bound to be intelligent. 

Intelligent, yes. But also, four. And hungry. The boy reaches for Kreacher, and Kreacher wastes no time taking them away in a swirl of magic. Back to the House. Back to the magic. Back to home. 

A home Kreacher will not let fall. 

***

There is something about the boy, Kreacher realizes. He has been home for a little under two weeks now, and things are going… well. Surprisingly well. Kreacher had thought there would be more fighting, more tears, more tantrums once the boy realized Kreacher had no intentions whatsoever of taking him back to wherever it is he came from. There is none of that. 

But there is something. And it’s not anything good. 

It takes another three days for Kreacher to realize what it is. What he’s feeling, where he’s felt it before. 

The Heir is sitting at the table, coloring quietly and intermittently snacking on pretzels. Kreacher is keeping an eye on the boy, because Kreacher is no stranger to children- and the quiet ones tend to be the ones that need the most watching. This one… isn’t, he is polite and attentive and not at all prone to whinging, but Kreacher will not let that lull him into a false sense of security. So he will watch. Even though that involves hours upon hours of sitting with the child in silence. (Kreacher doesn’t know if the boy speaks yet. Regulus was the same way. Kreacher does not think about this.)

Kreacher is patient, and not prone to boredom. But he does not sit idle- he investigates the magic, twirling and twisting it around, checking on its strength, the direction of its flow. 

The magic likes the Heir. But not all of the Heir. It will not, for example, go anywhere near the branching lines of the scar plastered across his face. It hasn’t the whole time the Heir has been here, and Kreacher wants to know why. 

He’s gotten sick of passive observation. It’s time for direct action. Kreacher wields his own magic, and pokes it at the scar. 

And the magic screams. 

The boy doesn’t notice, because his core is not yet awake or active- and Kreacher is glad of it. The less aware the boy is of it, the less it will take root, Kreacher hopes. 

But Kreacher notices. Notices, and realizes. By the time Kreacher’s ears have stopped ringing, his eyes have stopped streaming tears, he’s already moving, reaching to find something he's done his best not to think about. 

The last four years have not been easy on Kreacher. This is for a lot of different reasons- the fall of the House of Black, Lady Black’s descent into madness, Regulus dying…

The locket. 

Kreacher spent a long, long time trying to find a way to destroy the odious little thing. When he finally realized he was doing more harm to Kreacher than he was the locket, he tucked it away- safe, hidden. Kreacher would destroy it, he would… just not now. Not until the House of Black was strong once more. 

Now, it seems, Kreacher has no choice. Because the soul of darkness that lies in the locket, the one that killed Regulus and hurt Kreacher…

It lives in the Heir’s head, too. 

And Kreacher will not let it take the boy. Not another one. 

There is one thing that Kreacher had thought about trying. A last-ditch, desperate attempt to destroy the locket- or, rather, what the locket contains- for good. The danger it posed, though… was far too great. Kreacher hadn’t dared attempt to risk it. 

Now, though? 

Kreacher doesn’t think he has a choice. 

***

Kreacher waits until the Heir is sleeping. The boy sleeps lightly, but Kreacher is not worried- between the silencing charms, the warming charms, the enchanted harp strumming lullabies, and the child-proofed room (warded, of course, to prevent wandering), Kreacher knows very well that the Heir is not going anywhere. Kreacher has never technically had to raise a child on his own, but he is very old, and he has encountered his fair share of neglectful parents. Kreacher is confident in his ability to keep a child alive and well. 

Not so confident is he in Kreacher’s ability to make a child feel loved, but that’s never been a priority of Kreacher’s. There have been many Lord Blacks that grew up without love, and they’d…

Kreacher pauses, thinking about Walburga Black, and the desperate measures Kreacher is taking to keep the House from falling because of her actions, and because of the actions of the Lords and Ladies before her. Then, he sighs. Kreacher will add ‘finding someone to love the Heir’ to the list- after taking care of the Horcrux in the boy’s head. 

The Locket is as despicable as ever. Unfortunately, Kreacher requires it for this next step. The next step, being, of course, Azkaban. 

Kreacher doesn’t want to go to Azkaban. But desperate times call for desperate measures, so Kreacher lets the stream of magic take him away, until it will take him no further, and then he begins to pull, dragging himself inch by inch towards where the magic itself freezes over, sinking chill into Kreacher’s bones and making him feel every inch the 8,000 year old Elf he is. 

Still, Kreacher pulls. And pulls. And pulls and pulls and pulls until finally Kreacher is coming to a stop on the isle, shivering and breathing hard. The ground beneath Kreacher is rough and stony and sharp, and Kreacher presses himself harder into it, the pain piercing through the steadily rising fogginess that is clambering at Kreacher’s mind. Around his neck, the Locket hums. It can sense the like magic, Kreacher is sure, and it feels at home. 

Kreacher does not think that will be the case for much longer. Not if things go according to plan. 

The magic cannot be used to move any further, as it’s too atrophied. Kreacher can’t use the Black family magic either, as…

Well. Kreacher doesn’t want it to know he’s here. It’s shameful, an Elf coming here. Unheard of, even. The less waves Kreacher makes, the less likely the magic of his home, of his family, will take umbrage with his actions here. 

Kreacher looks up the sheer cliff he has found himself at the base of, and then further still. Kreacher cannot see as well as he used to, but he can still make out where the face of the cliff turns into a building. Dark, and rough, and bleak, square and utilitarian in its single-minded purpose. Even from here, Kreacher can tell the building is nothing but a husk, hollowed out of everything that gave it life. Assuming it had life to begin with.

And last but not least, one of my favorite hp things I've ever written, and also EXTREMELY crack-y, and I may or may not come back to it eventually but you get a sneak-preview anyway:

Prologue

Once upon a time, there were three brothers. 

The eldest was shrewd, and his ambition blinded him, and he died, and thus he served his narrative purpose.

The second eldest was brash, and his recklessness ruined him, and he died, and thus he served his narrative purpose.

The youngest was smart, and brave, and most of all humble- and he saw his brothers both fall, and took their failures as the object lessons he knew they were, and because of that he got his happy ending. And thus, he served his narrative-

No, hang on. That’s not quite right. Not this time.

This time, there were only two brothers- and the first got to be smart, and the second got to be brave, because in this fairy-tale there was no little brother to be the best of them both. 

Although- there was a little sister. 

But little sisters don’t get to be the best of their older brothers. Little sisters to older brothers are to be treasured, and protected, and when her older brothers are just a little too smart, or a little too brave…

Little sisters get to serve their narrative purpose. 

Which was… what, again? Oh! Of course.

To die.

And thus, she served her-

Wait. Is that a little too sad? Hm. Well.

Let’s not pick this story, then- let’s choose another. Here, how about this?

Once upon a time, there were three sisters.

Chapter One

Ariana takes a deep breath in and holds it for a beat too long- just like mother said to do when things get to be a… little much. 

Above her head, another spell shoots past, missing her by inches and shattering into fractals against the wall that showers down little red sparks onto her arm. It stings, and Ariana doubles down on not breathing, as the alternative is hyperventilating. 

This is not a ‘little much’. This is the end of the world.

“Look at what you did,” Albus says, in that cold uncaring voice he’s taken to using around them. The one that makes him sound like he thinks he’s better than them. “You nearly took Ariana’s head off.”

“That was you, asshole!” Aberforth yells, flinging another spell Albus’s way before ducking back behind the overturned table as Albus sends one right back. “Look at her, she can’t even move, she's so scared! What is the matter with you?”

Well. Aberforth isn’t wrong. Ariana is terrified. Albus is leaving, Aberforth is fighting, and Ariana is- well. Put it this way. If she can’t get control of herself?

She’s going to kill them all.

“Albus, we really should be going now,” Gellert says, buffing his fingernails from where he’s safely sitting behind a shimmering shield.

“Fucker,” Aberforth spits. Gellert shrugs.

Ariana’s going a little lightheaded, as she seems to have hit her limit as far as lack-of-oxygen-intake goes. She inhales. It doesn’t do much- not against the sticky feeling of her magic clinging to her airways. 

(According to mother, the magic goes to her lungs first, because that’s the easiest place to start. 

“It wants to ride the air all the way through your body,” mother said. “Don’t let it do that.”

“Okay,” Ariana said. “But what about when I need to breathe?”

“You need to breathe less than you need the magic not to take over,” mother said. “Better you faint, first.”

“Okay,” Ariana said.)

“Fucker,” she whispers to herself, on the exhale. She’s not supposed to swear, but the fact that she can feel her magic as much as she can means that she’s much closer to losing control than she’d thought- and also Aberforth had just said it, which means she gets to, too. It’s only fair.

Another spell shoots just past her, and she inhales again on reflex- and can almost feel the magic creeping further and further through her body, like an insidious parasite that’s gleefully making its way through her bloodstream. 

Her stomach twists. She doesn’t know if she’s going to be able to pull this one back. 

Ariana resumes not breathing. 

“Can’t you just stay?” Aberforth pleads. 

Ariana doesn’t know why he bothers, he’s fighting a losing battle. Albus has always wanted to leave, always had grander aspirations than this, so why bother forcing him to stick around? 

Well, besides the fact that that would leave Aberforth to deal with her. The Dumbledore household’s resident ghost-that-isn’t-dead-yet. The fading echo. 

Ariana feels her eyes well with tears. Useless. Less than useless. A burden. That’s all she is. Even to Aberforth, her favorite Aberforth, the one that holds her after her nightmares and sings her to sleep and still reads her stories when she asks (even though at twelve she’s practically all grown up now) and finds kittens for her to play with and mends all of their clothes and argues with Albus over who’s turn it is to do dishes even though they’re magic and-

Even to him, Ariana is nothing more than a chore.

Her magic continues to creep, bringing with it a nauseating empty feeling- like it’s hollowing her out as it goes. 

“No,” Albus says, simply and casually and cruelly. 

Ariana’s heart breaks a little, then. Albus is leaving. She doesn’t think she believed it, not until just now. Aberforth is her favorite, yes, but she loves Albus just the same.

He’s her oldest brother, the one who teaches her about history and the stars and helps her through her math lessons and retells her favorite greek myths over and over again with the same excited passion he has for teaching anyone about anything, no matter how many times she’s had him tell her about the labyrinth, or about Aphrodite, or any of it-

And he’s leaving?

“No,” Ariana hears someone say. She thinks it may have been her.

It must have sunk in for Aberforth too, because he lets out a wordless scream of rage. But this is Aberforth, and he’s always been a bit hotheaded, so he doesn’t leave it at that. No, he fires one last spell at Albus- and this one. Oh, this one flies true, shooting towards Albus in a magnificently clean-cut arc that has his blue eyes widening. 

Gellert, quick as a flash, has his wand out and is shooting his own spell- and as true as Abe’s aim had been, Gellert’s aim is truer. 

It hits the spell, changing its trajectory and forcing it to veer sharply right- right towards where Ariana is sitting frozen on the couch. 

Albus’s eyes widen further, and his mouth opens as he raises his wand as well, shooting out a third bolt of light. 

And the funny thing is, Ariana is sure that if he hadn’t, then it would have missed her the same as the other spells did. But he had. And it changes the trajectory for a second time. 

And the magic inside of her surges. 

And then- 

Everything goes white.

Chapter Two

“Er,” says the voice.

Ariana tries to blink, but she seems to have forgotten how to open her eyes. Or- maybe it’s that she’s forgotten to close them? Everything is so bright. 

What’s happening? Where is she? 

“I don’t normally get to say this in my line of work, but- are you alright?”

Ariana tries to get up from where she thinks she’s lying on the floor, but that’s about as effective as blinking is. 

“And- well, I get to say this even less, but- have you considered trying to breathe?”

Ah! Breathing. She remembers how to do that. 

As the rush of cool air enters her lungs, she feels the last vestiges of her sick magic ebb away as well- the same way it always does after she’s had an episode. 

Which, of course, means she’s just had an episode. 

And just like that, the events of the last hour come rushing back to her, and Ariana is suddenly on her feet and breathing hard, heart hammering at a million miles per hour. Unfortunately, she’s still extremely off-balanced, which means she’s overshot and is in the process of falling flat on her face when the man catches her.

“Careful, there,” he says. 

Oh, absolutely not. 

“Get- off- me,” Ariana hisses, pushing back and nearly falling over again in the process. Her heart is beating so quickly she thinks it may give out. She does not like being touched by anyone but her brothers, let alone men. Men she doesn’t know, especially. 

“Ah,” the man says, a sad sort of recognition dawning on his face. “Yes. Trauma. This I am accustomed to.”

As she recovers from her stumbling backwards, she gets a better look at the man- he’s wearing a simple black robe that makes him stand out in sharp contrast from the oppressive white blankness of the rest of the world. He’s tall, too, with dark brown skin, and a crooked sort of smile. He’s got a mop of curly black hair that falls charmingly over his forehead, brushing up against his long dark eyelashes- which are framing his sparkling green eyes, looking at her with a soft sort of kindness she’s only ever seen from Aberforth. That, more than anything, calms Ariana- but not by much. 

“Usually, this is the part where I try to tell you that this is all just part of the journey and, considering your age, that things are going to be alright in the long run. The problem is that I don’t actually know what you’re doing here or why any of this is happening at all.” 

Ariana doesn’t know what he’s talking about, or where she is, or what’s going on, but her head is starting to hurt from all the bright white and she’s still feeling light-headed, and there’s a niggling feeling in the back of her mind that’s trying to tell her that something is incredibly wrong here and-

“You know,” the man says. “I think I’m going to try and make things a bit more comfortable for the both of us.”

And then he’s snapping his fingers and just like that, quicker than a blink, instead of standing in the middle of a white void Ariana is sitting in a cushy armchair in front of a roaring fire, wearing a simple blue dress, and holding a fragile-looking teacup with little flowers (daffodils, her mind supplies) painted delicately on the side. There’s a curl of steam wafting off the surface of the tea. She doesn’t taste it, because she still doesn’t know what’s happening, but it smells like chamomile, and despite herself, she relaxes. 

In front of her is the man, sitting on a matching chair- he’s changed as well, wearing a black dress-shirt, slacks, and dress-shoes. Instead of a teacup, he’s holding a sheaf of papers, frowning slightly as he reads through them. 

Ariana shifts in her seat. She’s certainly not going to bring attention to herself by asking silly questions like ‘who are you’ and ‘where am I’, so instead she turns her focus inward. Namely, towards her magic. 

Normally, after an episode, her magic is withdrawn and distant for weeks, if not months. That said, she can still feel it. She can always feel it. It’s a rot that’s eating her from the inside out. How could she possibly not feel it? 

She takes care to keep track of it, though- even when it’s distant like this. Just in case. Except- it doesn’t feel distant. Nor does it feel like an infection. 

It feels like it did before. Which is impossible. Unless-

And just like that, Ariana knows both where she is, and also who the man is. 

“Are my brothers dead as well?” Ariana asks, since she’s no longer got anything to be afraid of. 

Well- besides the answer to that question. 

“No,” the man- Death, that’s Death- says absently, still looking over the pages.

Ariana sinks back into her seat, letting out a huge sigh of relief. Good. That’s- that’s good. She might be dead, but- well, it was bound to happen sooner rather than later, and at least she didn’t take any of her family out with her. She’s not happy about being dead, but honestly? Could be worse. At least there’s an afterlife, apparently. 

Death is still completely immersed in his pages, and his head is cocked now. Whatever is on that paper, it must be interesting. Or concerning. “Although- to be completely honest? I don’t know if you are, either. Dead, I mean.” 

Ariana feels her blood turn to ice in her veins. 

That should probably have filled her with hope, or relief, or something- but she can’t help but wonder… if not dead, what else?

And is it going to be worse?

Death must pick up on her apprehension, because he finally looks up from his papers. “Oh, sorry- I mean, it’s nothing to be worried about. Probably. I mean- damn. Sorry. I’m not very good at this. Honestly, your situation is probably much more in my Lady’s wheelhouse. I’m not sure why the powers that be sent you my way.”

“Are you being vague on purpose?” Ariana asks. She didn’t mean to sound so biting, but to her credit, she is very worried. And apparently, now that her magic is no longer forcing her to freeze in the face of danger, her natural inclination is to provoke it instead. 

This is probably going to be an issue in the future, if she has one- Ariana has been compared to a baby bird by her brothers more times than she can count, and although she loathes the comparison she can’t help but see the reasoning behind it. Her watery blue eyes are far too big for her pointy face and she’s small and bony, much smaller and sharper than all the other village children (from what she'd seen of them through the windows), and although her hair is long and blonde it’s wispy too- feathery, even. Also, her nose is rather beaky.

The point is, she is not in any shape to fight anyone, ever. 

“No, I’m sorry,” Death says again. He does sound genuinely apologetic, so Ariana decides to forgive him. For now. “I’m trying to figure this out- reading your file, that sort of thing.”

“File,” Ariana repeats, the goodwill she’d managed to scrounge up for Death rapidly dwindling almost as soon as she'd pulled it together. 

“Yes,” Death says. “Surprisingly bureaucratic, death is.”

“I see,” she says. She doesn’t.

“Really, I should be calling my Lady up, but-”

“Who is your Lady?” Ariana cuts in. On purpose or no, the deity is being ridiculously obscure, and if she needs to ask clarifying questions then by god is she going to be asking them. 

“Oh,” Death says. “Magic. My Lady Magic.”

Ah. Hm. Ariana doesn’t really- hm. She doesn’t have much to say to that particular deity. Not anything especially kind, in any case.

“I would prefer it,” Ariana says, somewhat carefully, “if we could leave… her out of this.”

 “Yes,” Death says, flipping a page over and squinting at it. “I thought you might say something like that. And, frankly, I would prefer that as well- she’s been planning something of a- well, she calls it a ‘game’ but I think it’s probably more akin to something that will dictate the fate of the universe and what-have you- and she’s been rather tetchy because of it.”

“And you are quite sure you aren’t trying to make me feel completely lost on purpose?” Ariana asks, raising an eyebrow in what she hopes is an expression similar to the one Albus is fond of- namely, the ‘you are being unnecessarily irritating to me right now’ expression. 

Death looks at her for a moment, then has the audacity to laugh- although he catches himself nearly immediately afterwards, sobering up. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I- sorry.”

“Yes,” Ariana says, feeling her nose wrinkle. “Quite.” “Right,” Death says. “Well. The good news is that I think I’ve figured it out.”

This startles Ariana out of her annoyance. “You- you mean to say you’ve figured out what’s going on? Just now?”

Death nods, green eyes glinting with mirth. 

“But- how? We’ve been talking this whole time!”

“Oh, dear one- I’m Death. If I couldn’t handle a little bit of multi-tasking, I’d be pretty much sunk.”

Ariana can’t really argue with that. In fact, now she feels somewhat foolish. She takes a sip of her tea instead, in an attempt to cover her embarrassment. It’s delicious. “Well?” She asks, bringing the cup back down to her lap. “What is happening?”

“You- hm. Well. There are two things I know for sure about you. One of which being that you are without a doubt dead, which is why you came to me,” Death starts. 

Ariana hesitates, then nods. She’s feeling surprisingly conflicted about that- she thought that is what she’d have preferred, at least compared to the unknown, but it’s just hit her-

She’s twelve. 

Maybe she didn’t want to die quite yet. 

“And the other thing?” Ariana asks, voice wavering just the slightest bit. 

Death clears his throat. “Right. The other thing I know for sure about you is that you are, er, also-”

“Also what?”

“Very much alive?”

Ariana stares at Death. Death looks back at her, smiling awkwardly. 

“You are terrible at explaining things,” she decides. 

Death sighs, smile dropping. “Yes. You’d think I’d be better at it."

Chapter Three

Ariana takes a deep breath, relishing in the feeling of being able to breathe so freely without her magic encroaching. “Okay. One more time. What, exactly, is happening to me?”

“You’re not dead, either. Hence the- the breathing. And heartbeat. And showing up entirely unannounced.”

The problem is, that doesn’t make any sense to Ariana at all. How can she be both dead, and not dead? 

For once, Death seems ready to try and actually explain: “basically, in the simplest possible terms, you had a magical… accident, let’s call it.”

Ha- accident is one word for it. Ariana prefers the term ‘attack’. Or, possibly, ‘allergic reaction’. Or maybe even ‘catastrophe’. She nods for Death to keep going, though- now is not really the time to argue over semantics.

“Your magic reacted to your brothers’ and Gellerts’ spells, and resulted in two things: your death, and also your displacement.”

“Displacement.”

“Yes,” Death confirms. “In time, specifically.”

“Time,” Ariana repeats. 

“That’s why you came to me here, in the pocket outside of where space and time intersect, instead of- well, you’d have no way of knowing this, but normally, I’d have gone to you. Let you down gently, before leading you on. There hasn’t been a person here in- well. Maybe ever. Not linearly, anyways.”

Ariana hesitates, then nods. She’s not one-hundred percent following, but she thinks she gets the gist. 

“The point is,” Death continues, “is that now you have a choice.”

“Choice?” Ariana asks, feeling her heart skip a beat.

“Dear one, you’ve done nothing but repeat my words back to me for the last several minutes. Haven’t you gone long enough feeling like an echo?” Death asks, and although there is a note of reproach in his voice, Ariana thinks it was meant to be in good humor. 

She’s not really in a humorous sort of mood. 

Ariana would like to feel more indignant over that, but mostly she feels abruptly very sad. It’s not like Death is wrong, after all- that is exactly what she’s felt like. Her whole life, almost. 

Just a fading echo.

She looks down at the teacup in her hand, tracing the daffodils with her thumbnail. All at once, something hardens in her chest. Ariana is done with that. She’s never- she is never being someone else’s echo, ever again. 

With that thought, she looks back up at Death. He looks somewhat bemused, but raises an eyebrow in an obvious gesture for her to speak her piece. 

“You said I get a choice,” she says. “I want whichever one that lets me keep living.”

Both of Death’s eyebrows are up, now. “Are you- dear one, are you sure? Because- and I may be a bit biased, but- death is a significantly easier choice.”

“I don’t care,” Ariana says. “What do I need to do to get back?”

“You don’t,” Death says. “You’re out of time. Literally, outside of time. I can- I have the option to bring you back to life, which is something that has quite literally never happened to me, but- it wouldn’t be your old life.”

Ariana doesn’t think she cares. In fact, she thinks she might prefer that. 

She was already never going to see her brothers again. She’s made her peace with that. 

Well- probably she has. 

Doesn’t matter. She’ll have the time to do that later. 

“Well then. Tell me what I need to know about my new life,” she says.

Death smiles, softly. “Okay,” he says, before immediately launching into his explanation. “For one, this isn’t going to be a reincarnation deal- you still have your body, so I’ll just be slipping you into your new time as is.”

“Where? Or, when? Or do I get to choose that, too?”

Death laughs ruefully, and shakes his head. “Certainly not,” he says. “There’s a very specific spot opened up for you. Don’t ask me why, that is squarely in my Lady’s wheelhouse and I don’t think she’d explain it even if we asked.”

“You didn’t tell me where, though,” Ariana says. 

“Hm,” Death says, checking his paper again. Ariana has the suspicion that that might just be for her benefit- make him seem more human. “Sixty-seven years.”

Oh. Oh, that’s- that’s almost no time at all. Unless- which direction?

“In the future, or the past?” 

“Future,” Death says. “Speaking strictly linearly.” 

Huh. Forget not seeing her brothers again- they could very well still be alive in her new time. 

“Where?”

“With an old family,” Death says. “England. Not far from home at all- in more ways than one.”

Ariana’s brow furrows as she thinks, fingernails tapping absently on the teacup. It’s not exactly the brand-new start she’d been hoping for, but it’s also not death, so- she’s not about to complain. 

“And my magic?”

Death grimaces. “See, that’s my Lady’s wheelhouse too- only in this case, I really don’t know. You could still be an obscurial-”

“Obsc-” Ariana remembers her resolve not to echo and switches gears mid-word- “A what?”

“Er- a person with a magical illness like yours.”

“Oh,” Ariana says, resolving to look up the term as soon as she gets back. Or- forward. 

“As I was saying, you could be the same, or… or your magic could be perfectly healed, like it is now, or something in between- or maybe you won’t have magic at all. I don’t know.”

Ariana desperately hopes for the latter. But she isn’t expecting it. Ariana has long since learned it hurts less to stay as realistic as possible. She doesn’t think her magic is a curse lifted as easily as all that. 

Ha- as if dying and coming back to life seventy years in the future is easy. 

But still.

“You said I’ll be with a family. What family? And- how? If I’m not being reincarnated…”

“That,” Death says, “is going to be the trickiest bit. I’ll have to rework some things- and I definitely won’t be able to catch everyone. But for the most part, it will be like you’ve always lived there- born and raised.”

“Without changing my appearance?” “Like I said- I’m simply slipping you in. Same as ever.”

Ariana nods, feeling somewhat relieved. She didn’t really want to have to deal with a new body on top of a new everything else. 

“Except,” Death says. “I do believe you’ll need a new name.”

Ariana looks up at him. He looks apologetic, but… 

“I get to choose?”

Death pauses, looking a bit surprised- likely at the eagerness in her voice. “I don’t see why not,” he says. 

Good. A body is one thing, but a name… this is good. After all, she’d wanted a new life, and what better way to signify that by leaving her old name behind? It’s poetic.

Besides, she’d never really liked the name ‘Ariana’. It’s a derivative of Ariadne- the princess who gave all of herself away to Theseus, only to be abandoned. Not a bad myth, not by a long shot, but-

Ariana is tired of being someone who gives all of herself away. 

She looks down at the teacup in her hands. The one with the little painted daffodils. 

This time, she wants to put herself first. 

This time, she’s done being the echo. 

This time, for once, she’s going to be the one echoed. 

“Narcissa,” she says, looking back up at Death. “My name is Narcissa.”

Death looks at her for a moment. Then, a smile spreads across his face. “Nice to meet you, Narcissa. Now- let’s get you home.”

ANYWAYS THE END

Holy shit that was. So long. Thank you for all those that stuck around long enough to get through what is essentially a pile of scraps.

And thank you for the ask! I always love the chance to talk about some of the behind-the-scenes stuff :D

[aramynx]

IZUKU MIDORIYA HEADCANONS...

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

ꕥ baby, my love, sweetie

ꕥ remembers everything- and i mean everything you’ve ever said to him

ꕥ he can quote word for word what you said to him on your first date actually

ꕥ he remembers off the top of his head what you like- which snacks are your favourite, which flavour and brand of ice cream you like, where you are in the show you’ve been watching recently

ꕥ he still gets nervous and giddy around you even after you’ve been together for a while- surprise kisses turn him into a flustered mess when he really isn’t expecting them

ꕥ “oh! hi sweetie, i didn’t see you there- what’s all this for?”

ꕥ loves to ramble about things to you but he does worry that it bores you or freaks you out sometimes so he tries not to carry on for too long

ꕥ when you tell him you love his rambles he just about explodes- he falls in love with you all over again

ꕥ chronically late coming home- whether it’s because he was stopped by a fan, or he needed to go grab some stuff from a store, or if he saw a new limited edition all might figurine…

ꕥ you’re so used to it that you always expect him to get back 30 minutes later than he actually should

ꕥ even though it’s become a routine, he still apologises for coming home late

ꕥ “hey baby! I’m so sorry i’m late home again- they just released a new Kamino All Might figurine!”

ꕥ speaking of figurines, he has a room dedicated to them- and he keeps them in pristine condition

ꕥ he does get nervous about you-or anyone- going in there, but he trusts that you’d never hurt his All Might collection- it’s important to him!

ꕥ you can not sleep around this man- he makes a lot of noise even when he’s trying to be quiet.

ꕥ he’ll sit in bed with an open notebook, scribbling away as he plans things out or puts new information into his hero book

ꕥ “so, if we do… in the morning and then wait… group d arrives in the afternoon, that gives us about 4 hours of rest time between missions… not enough backup… then when the sun starts setting we’re going to head towards… and everyone can take shifts… not secure enough… maybe more to the west… what would all might say? … oh… yeah i see it now… i know what we need…”

ꕥ sometimes he stays up into the early hours of the morning just muttering and writing while you sleep beside him

ꕥ he feels really bad if he wakes you up

ꕥ “oh! i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you, sweetie… i get it, sorry for being so loud- i’ll come to sleep now too okay?”

ꕥ he likes to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into him to cuddle- he’s still pretty short so he snuggles his face into the warmth of your back

ꕥ over-plans for dates, tries to cram too many things into your dates on his days off and you never end up doing half of them

ꕥ you appreciate the sentiment though!

ꕥ he gives you a lot of flowers- he’ll buy you new ones whenever he sees any in the store, usually accompanied by a note to remind you how much he loves you

ꕥ He was so nervous to bring you home when you started your relationship- more than you were. He just didn’t really know what to expect

ꕥ Inko loved you immediately! She says you’re an amazing person for Izuku and that you compliment each other well.

ꕥ You regularly go to her apartment for dinner- usually every Tuesday night, it’s something you all look forward to doing!

ꕥ Izuku loves that you get along with his mother, it makes him so happy that she loves you as much as he does.

ꕥ you swear he has a different picture of the two of you as his wallpaper every time you look at his phone

ꕥ he likes to have lots of photos of you- he makes sure to take at least one per date!

[brandogenius]

Hihi i don’t really know how to describe what type of request this is ( blurb? i think) but can we get moments of all of boygenius with a bestfriend that loves stealing their clothes and wearing them around. Bestfriend is a known singer who has been friends with the boys for years and there’s just so many different moments and pictures where they’re in the boys clothes. (I hope i worded this correctly)

you can indeed my love!! i’m sorry this took so long D:

‼️RPF‼️

BLURB - the boys & you sharing each others clothes

[phoebe]

you and pb have a similar everyday style. long oversized t-shirts and jeans or shorts. you like to make your own clothes and are known for it. having your own clothing brand you’re often seen wearing the first editions of your clothes. the test starters if you will. the ones that are made as a trial run before the official design comes out.

being close friends with phoebe the two of you love to share clothes. you could be seen wearing one of the boys tour merch hoodies that belonged to phoebe. pb could be spotted by fans with one of your oversized button up’s on.

fans have dedicated twitter accounts like “PHOEBE BRIDGERS WARDROPE!” and it’s all updates on what clothes she is seen wearing and where to buy them, how much. but 99.99% of them are yours that you made first edition so most people get repeats “phoebe was photographed with a fan wearing readers hoodie!”

[Lucy]

you and lucy are almost just almost the same as phoebe. the both of you love going shopping picking up clothes both of you end up liking snd the other ends up buying it. knowing it’ll be swapped back and forth between each other.

“can i wear this skirt today?”

“yeah! if you let me borrow your shirt tomorrow?”

“deal”

a lot of fans notice when you wear the same clothes, they pick up on it quickly. from it being the same jacket or hat. they are quick to freak out. they think it’s cute though.

you have a personalised jacket you decorated yourself with pins and patches that lucy is seen out with the boys one day. nobody is surprised when they find out it’s yours.

[Julien]

you and julien have similar style it’s almost a bit harder to tell when you wear the same clothes.

julien stays over so much at your apartment, her clothes end up having their own little designated area in your closet. same goes for you.

your first show on tour you walk out in a pink tshirt that fans realise is the same shirt julien was seen in the not strong enough mv. it suited you a lot. you ended up adding it to your own collection.

however fear not. julien takes something of yours also. both of you swapping and trading clothes like pokémon cards. she ends up taking a bunch of band t-shirts belonging to you. cutting them up to be a bit shorter / chopping off the sleeves. you didn’t really care, it suited jb and you’re all here for upcycling

[star-ar512]

I cannot remember for the entire life of me if you answered this question or not but what’s your favorite replica ship? I know you’re a seibenjäger fan (rad) but what other ships are you interested in?

i don't think i recall having this question asked to me yet! so yeah. you def got the siebenjäger for obvious reasons (not really being quiet about it is one of them); star/storch in general is very appealing to me. they have interesting personalities and different views, which often leads to friction between them. (shoutout to another of my fav star/storch couples, respectively fünfzig/zwingli. we, zwingli's creator and i, will talk about them real soon)

another classic is star/eule for obvious reasons. the couple in the game has a heartbreaking moment...of course they need appreciation as well. eules are so underrated! show them some love too!

we then got storch/kolibri, which often have very fun dynamics. my view is that they can often get along with each other due to their reading hobby. also bioresonance can be used in a fun way for both parties, depending on who's woke up the most mischievous that day. i don't have much to say but i love these idiots.

to no one's surprise, storch/storch is something i would love to see more of. it is not unheard of, yet it's very, very underrated. it's a must have for storch lovers. storches have so many multitudes! they can have very different personalities to me, that's what makes them wonderful characters. (see appendix (tags)).

a ship that has its charm is also kolibri/falke. oughta love the commander's thots crawling all over her like weevils (citation needed). twice the bioresonance has double the potential!

much to my surprise, another ship i've come to like is storch/eule, thanks to some fanfics exploring their behavior. (when the eule is a bit of a freak!!!!!)

i yet have to see anything about star/star. i believe it has potential too.

edit: forgot to include ot3s. star/star/storch; star/eule/storch are the ones i've seen so far and are pretty cute. wouldn't say no to a star/storch/storch either y'know eye emoji??

that's it! thank you for the ask!! it's always a pleasure to talk about gay robot women.

[jadehaven]

Thank you for your analysis, it just makes so much sense, and it gives me hope that they might really explore a slow burn romance between them. 🥺

But also I've been going back to their scenes together, and they almost always touch each other, and it's so delicate and intimate? They might not be aware of it themselves yet, but they aren't acting like siblings.

Haha you’re spot on, and thank you! I’m holding out hope too! Nobody online listened to my speculations after season 1, but I called every trope before it happened. Not trying to hype myself up lol, just stating that the knowledge I have in the romance writing department has proved itself true in this area. Even the ring scene, I called it the episode before, because it would’ve been the perfect screen play in regards to foreshadowing. And I’m just a measly aspiring romance author, not even a screen writer or nothin’. But lemme tell you I freaked when I saw it the first time.

Anyway, about the touching— it’s very deliberate also. I do think, however, that it was played out as more platonic in the beginning than it is now. Galadriel and Elrond’s story feels a bit like a coming of age romance for this reason. It starts off like “puppy love” when they first meet. It’s innocent and sweet this way, but it definitely doesn’t give siblings. I think this is why much of the fan base was confused. Many folks interpreted it as either one or the other, completely platonic and familial(because of the lore), or entirely romantic. But in reality? They sit in this very small space that’s not quite friends, not quite lovers. Mckay even acknowledges this: “Best friends may be reducing their relationship too much. I’d say she’s someone for [whom] he has so much love.” This sets them up perfectly for the forced to kiss trope. Their moments of touch/intimacy would typically read romantic, but ultimately don’t because the characters are technically just friends. Anyone (including themselves) could justify that there’s no romantic intention in their touches.

Here’s the kicker though. Now there’s been a romantic gesture that doesn’t fit into the “grey area”. A kiss is a romantic gesture. OK AND BEFORE YOU SAY “things just operate differently in this world”— No. No they don’t. Because if kissing between elves was normal, or not romantic, or just something viewed as extra intimate friendship, THEN IT WOULDN’T HAVE WORKED AS A RUSE. 😤

*cough* Sorry. Got a little.. excited. As I was saying…

They’ve crossed the line, unintentionally maybe so, but now they will likely question their touchiness. The reason is, they don’t want to confuse the other person. Before, their intimacy was always “platonic” because they’d never acknowledged the possibility of it meaning more than that. Now there’s this elephant in the room. “Did you mean to kiss me? Would you have kissed me without the pin? Did you like the kiss? What would happen if we kissed again?” Etc etc. And all the unknowns create too big of a risk for it to just go back to the way it was before.

Maybe I’m overshooting a little, since ROP isn’t technically a romance. They might not do it this way, but I wouldn’t be surprised if we see Elrond suddenly doubting himself, not knowing how to touch her now, what’s safe and what’s not. Does this make sense?

I recommend reading ‘People we Meet on Vacation’ By Emily Henry, in order to familiarize yourself with the more common components of the trope(best friends to lovers). It’s not the only reference out there, and it’s not my favourite book/couple, but it does a good job of depicting those blurred lines— and what happens when you unintentionally cross them!

Anyways. Yeah, their touches are beautiful. We actually haven’t seen elves this intimate before on screen, and that should be your first clue. Even in Tolkien’s books, there’s not a lot of physical intimacy between two elf lovers. A kiss is a huge deal, and I think it’s supposed to feel that way to us (though people didn’t get the memo) because it’s how it would feel to them. Think about it. The only other person Galadriel has lots of little tiny touches with (though the tone is different) is Sauron. We know how they felt about each other, and they didn’t even kiss! The E & G kiss was not done on accident, that’s for sure.

Last point, just for funsies—

They literally can’t not touch each other 🥹💘 Even when they’re fighting, they’re compelled to each other. Bumping shoulders, held gaze, hand touching, the list goes on. If that doesn’t say romance then idk what will!! 🫶✨❤️

Thanks for the ask! Come again!

Bonus gif:

[adorawasright]

i just found this post

https://www.tumblr.com/the-entire-cast-needs-therapy/669962726712475648/ive-seen-people-complain-about-adoras-line-in

and i’m just constantly dumbfounded by how the fandom mischaracterizes and villanizes adora. don’t get me wrong, adora is definitely not perfect and has a lot of flaws. but it almost seems like the fandom wants to justify their liking for the main character (because liking a main character is so basic, right?) that they are willing to paint her as toxic and selfish, just to make her look more “complex”.

adora is complex as she is. but she’s not a control freak. there’s a difference between trying to control someone and stopping them from committing actual crimes. the way the fandom talks, you would think adora is bossing catra around all the time. but no, even when they were both in the horde, adora was pretty lax except for when she was worried that catra might get into trouble with shadow weaver. adora even broke the rules for the sake of pleasing catra, when she had no reason to do that. if anything, catra was the one who constantly tried to control adora, even dropping the banger of a line “i’ve got complete control of adora, i’m not letting that go”.

but fans see adora desperately trying to hold the world together and prevent catra from KILLING thousands of people, and they’re like “omg adora is such a control freak, she can’t just let catra do what she wants”. what do they want adora to do? just step back and let catra destroy everything? join catra and help her commit mass genocide? insane mindset honestly, i cannot wrap my head around this take.

Do not harass the person in the link.

Jesus Christ, I couldn't even get through the post once OP called her a "control freak".

Adora wanting to know about herself and where she came from is not her being a control freak. It's Adora trying to make her own choices - because Shadow Weaver, Catra and Light Hope never allowed Adora to be anything other than a soldier or a weapon. She was not allowed to even be a person.

The reason why Adora saying she "liked the idea of having a destiny" is out of character is because we don't see her naturally resolving that inner conflict. I don't think Adora needed to find her biological family, considering they might as well be dead, and Adora already has a family in Bow, Glimmer and the others. But she should've been allowed to find this peace, and not be dictated by her "feelings" for Catra. Adora's entire arc in season 5 is basically to be in a relationship with Catra, nothing else.

And yeah, Adora never meant to control Catra, she just wanted to protect her and others. How is that controlling behavior? How is that ABUSIVE even, since everyone loves to paint Adora as an abuser?

This is why I'm convinced that people hate Adora, because I've never seen so much hatred towards her coming from a fandom that apparently wants her to be happy.

[lunarspiral1127]

Alright, now let's actually talk about X-Men 97 episode 9 *SPOILERS ALSO SOME RANTING INCOMING*

The results of Magneto's worldwide blackout

Uh, I think Magneto's omega level moment to stop the Prime Sentinels and the Spider-Man cameo got me distracted on what his EMP also did to the world, which is not good.

Yeah, so thousands have died because of this, mutants are being hunted down more than ever, and the world's gonna end in less than 12 hours. So....Magneto made things worse for everybody, mutants and humans.....god dammit.

So, because of this Magneto is also something to deal with as well as Bastion (even though this was all Bastion's fault and the mastermind behind everything, including the massacre, but okay 😒). This means he's back to being an enemy, which I don't like. He was doing good as a protagonist, and just for him to revert back to being an antagonist again?! I mean, I get why, I just don't like it. Even when, again, BASTION IS RIGHT THERE!!! *sigh* I guess with the time limit, they gotta deal with both of them and fix Earth.

Asteroid M again? Didn't Magneto try this before back in the previous show, and it backfired? In fact, he only recruited two others, which I'll get to later. Why isn't he saving more of his kind and bring them to Asteroid M? Maybe he just started and went to the X-Men first before going to find and rescue other mutants Yeah, as you can tell, I'm liking where this is going for Magneto.

Storm and Forge

THANK GOD SHE'S BACK! AND SHE'S BACK IN THE INTRO WITH HER BLACK OUTFIT TOO, I MISSED HER SO MUCH! 😭

Jubilee and Jean hugging her at different times was so nice. And, Beast and Forge greeting each other was nice too. Gotta cling to the good moments cause things get bad....REAL BAD.

More of Storm and Jean's sisterhood which was sweet. But, did they let her know about Nate being Cable and that it was Madelyn, a clone, that she interacted with during that timeskip before she left? Cause I feel like Storm needs to know about that.

As bummed out as I was that the two wouldn't confront either Sinister or Bastion, I do understand why. Storm's powers are great for taking out multiple targets, and we do need more moments with the two.

I don't believe their dead. It'll be total bullcrap for the two to reunite with the others as well as them caring for each other, just for them to die like that. So, yeah, they'll be fine.....they freaking better.

Still wish Forge contacted the rest of X-Factor to have a big team up and get some extra help.

More classic outfits

I do like some of them, like Storm's, Rogue's, Cyclop's (although, I'll miss seeing his hair), and Wolverine's brown and yellow.

However, I'm not a fan of Jean's Marvel Girl outfit. I like her 90s outfit that she had before better.

Also, Morph's outfit is just the yellow and blue but with big shoulder pads....why?

So, Roberto's a member of the X-Men now? So, he got an outfit too, but I wish we could've seen the buildup for him being a member. Last time I checked, he wasn't interested in being a member, but still hung out with Jubilee and became his boyfriend. The outfit's not bad, but it doesn't feel like it's been earned.

Xavier

*sigh* I'm probably the only one here that feels bad for the professor. But, I also feel like it could've been handled better. Have Xavier actually stay in contact with them while away. Have him still be recovering but still too sick to go back home. Hell, have him be in a coma! Many things in this show could've been done to give Xavier more of a reason why he wasn't there during that year time-skip instead of the black hole excuse.

Now, things are tense between him and Scott because he picked Magneto to lead the team. Okay, Magneto was doing fine, he was just more strict is all. Plus, I thought we were done with the distrust of Magneto after episode two.

Even Rogue is mad at him, which I get why. And, Magneto won't listen to him, which again, I also get why. I just where all this conflict is gonna lead to in the finale.

Rogue and Sunspot

So, those two chose Magneto, and not gonna lie, I got upset with that. When she was talking about leading the mutants at Genosha, I thought she rejected the offer back in episode 5, so I didn't understand what she meant by that. I get that she doesn't want to see more mutants die, but they're dying anyway and more are gonna die. I get that she's pissed at what happened, and she still has that anger and grief over what happened to Gambit, but when all this is done, where is she gonna go? Back to the X-Men? That is if there's still a team left.

Roberto.....okay, I get why he sided with Magneto, and I'm trying to like this version of Sunspot. But, I'm sorry, but I couldn't. Not after hurting Jubilee like that. Her being there for him wasn't enough after everything that happened wasn't enough. Plus, he has no idea what he's getting himself into. He's new to all this, he has no idea what Magneto has done or what he's capable of. So I was okay with Jubilee fighting back.

Rogue's choice made Nightcrawler sad....I hate seeing that precious blue elf devil man being sad. Thank god, we didn't have those two fight, otherwise, I'd be more upset. But, it was sad seeing her fight Wolverine cause the two are friends.

Also, she was wearing Gambit's coat....why does this show keep hurting so much?

Gold Team vs. Bastion and Sinister

So, Bastion really did love his mother. At least they kept that part of his backstory in this. I don't think she's dead, cause the Prime Sentinels should be alive, just not working. But, what happened to his father? Did his dad die? I've been noticing a lack of dads in the show aside from Scott.

Hulk cameo.

The fight scenes were really good. Especially Sinister vs. Jean. She was so bad@$$ in that fight. Although, I thought Morph was gonna confront Sinister too due to what he did to Morph. But, this is the Summers' family moment.

When did Sinister get control over Cable?! Well, apparently he did, and now he's forced to fight his kinda sorta other mom? At least we got to see his mutant power again.

Is Jean gonna die? Again? Cause, she and Scott are back in good terms in their relationship.

Well, the plan kinda backfired, but there's still a chance to turn it around in the finale.

Blue Team vs. Magneto

Okay, I know that Xavier tried to talk to him, but words ain't gonna reach Magneto anymore. Although, I did laugh when Magneto told him to shut up.

Cyclops disobeying Xavier's orders. Is that the first time that ever happened? Cause damn.

Not gonna lie, I thought Wolverine succeeded in killing Magneto. But, he probably should've kept stabbing and slashing or go for a more vital area. Maybe then Wolverine wouldn't have gotten....that at the end.

Yeah, the end....how freaking dare you do this to Logan! His adamantine ripped out of his body! He still has his skeleton, but to do that to him?! Just....WHY?!?!?!

I know this happened in Fatal Attractions in the comics, but it doesn't mean I wanted it to happen to him in the show! I feel so bad for Logan.

Also, WHY DID YOU BRING THE GUY WITH METAL IN HIS BODY TO FIGHT A GUY WHO CAN MANIPULATE METAL?!?!?! Did it ever come across their minds that this would've been a bad idea? I know that the writers want this comic moment to happen, but come on! Logan should've been with the gold team!

I think that's all I got at the moment. I made a post of potential outcomes for the finale from the comics at the result of what happened to Logan. And, I'm dreading what might come to fruition. As for the stuff with Bastion and Sinister, they gotta turn things around for that one. But, I'm worried that the finale will lead to a dark end instead of a hopeful one. The finale will have to make it or break it for me, cause I love X-Men and all this conflict and stuff is just hurting so much. I still like the show, and it's way WAY better than the What If series in the MCU. But, we'll have to see what happens next week.

[lettingtimepass]

I WAS AT THE NERDY PRUDES SHOW WHERE THEY LOST POWER!!!

Here is my spoiler-free recounting!

After over a decade of being a Starkid fan, I traveled 3,000 miles to see Nerdy Prudes!! (The date just happened to align with a trip I was planning.) It was so surreal being in the theater! I saw Producer!Dylan and Corey L. running around with their headsets. Then right before the show started I saw Joe Moses and Tessa walk in. Also two rows ahead of me was someone in a Spiderman hat... I was like... Is that Nick Lang? No... why would he be in the middle of the audience? Later I found out I was right 😂

For context, it was raining really hard in LA and the streets were flooding. LA is not used to rain so they're not well equipped to deal with it.

Act 1 went great and then shortly after Act 2 started, BAM, the lights went off. Everyone froze. The person in the light booth said "We've just lost power." Then, Nick Lang stood up and said, "It's going to be okay everyone, we'll figure this out." And he left to help the staff. But for a good minute or so the entire audience thought it was a bit and couldn't tell if this was part of the show or not! But after a few minutes we were like holy shit this is actually happening. It took maybe half an hour or so but we were back up and running and everyone was so hype cheering on the actors when they came back on stage.

Then, during the final song, on what sounded like the final NOTE, the lights went off again. You could hear a reaction from the actors-- I can't imagine how upset they must have been in that moment! But the entire audience erupted in cheers and instantly gave a standing ovation. After the crowd calmed down a bit Nick came back out and was like "Yeah...... That actually wasn't the ending. There are two minutes left." And we freaked out 😂 They had us wait for a few minutes, but then they decided to call it. In the words of Nick, "You're the lucky audience who gets to see this show with a happy ending!" 😳😳 So yeah - I still don't know the ending. I'm going to have to buy the digital ticket so I can see the ending and also get the full experience uninterrupted. I can't wait for the YouTube version!

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT - Updated!

I think everyone's favorite part was the LORDS IN FREAKING BLACK!!! AHHHHH!!! JON AS HUMAN!WIGGLY was perfect! Also was he giving Onceler/TumblrSexyMan energy? 🤔 Can't wait to see how it looks on the YouTube version!

I loved Jon's anime nerd character. It was so damn good. The collective "Nooooooo" when the audience realized his death was imminent 😭😂

The parallels between Abstinace Camp and NPMD are very fun to me. "IT WAS GIRL JERI THAT DIRTY GIRL!"

DIRTY DIRTY GIRL WON'T YOU PRAY FOR MEEE?

Max's pronunciation of "skel-a-in" 😭 I need the story of how he decided on that or if it was written into the script?!

The Barbeque Monologues?! And that song? Jeff Blim pls. Lauren is a master through.

Someone pointed out that all the Hatchetfield shows have in-world productions: Working Boys, Santa Clause is Going to High School, and The Barbeque Monologues. Idk what this means, but it is a nice touch for worldbuilding.

The little musical reference to Nightmare time!!

I keep thinking about how Rob M fumbled the Starkid bag 😬 But Joey did such a great job as Pete! For some reason it feels like a full-circle moment between MAMD and "Joey Richter" with him playing the nerdy character 😊

Anglea was freaking fantastic as Grace. I just love her voice and how she makes it go so high it cracks! And Curt and Kim playing her parents was so good.

There's something so funny about Angela's characters being so different - Lex vs Grace - and the fact that they would hate each other 😂 Can Angela please play both of them interacting?!

Kim freaking Whalen!!!! I love her so much.

I LOVE seeing Corey and Mariah playing father and daughter again (but it's a very different dynamic than TGWDLM).

LOVE LOVE LOVE evil/slimly dirtbag Corey. HE'S SO FINE!!

I missed seeing Jeff and James on stage - I wonder if Jeff's chaotic energy would have been too much with the horny teenagers hahaha. But James would have fit right in! Oh well, we can't have them all in every show, unfortunately.

Gotta say I didn't expect them to say "Nerdy Prudes Must Die" so many times in the show 😂

The last song having pop-punk vibes?!

Anddd...... the last scene...... (yes I finally got to see it!) GRACE KEPT THE BOOK!!! Did she say "every perv must die"? Yeah, that's gonna be a lot of people on her list... Also very similar to the end of Abstinence Camp! This isn't going to go well.......

[zimithrus]

Tiger & Bunny Week Day 5 🐯🐰 - Fan Theories/Predictions

⚠ (Mentions of theoretical death!) ⚠

So, I've lightly touched over this in another post some time back, but Maybe I can go a little more in depth with this fan theory I've had, which is: What if Kotetsu accidentally killed his father as a child when his NEXT powers awakened?

I might be grasping at air here, but think about it: we don't ever see Kotetsu's father in the show, nor is he ever mentioned. All we know of his family is his mother, late wife, daughter, brother, sister-in-law, 2 nieces and a nephew. I know it's simply because the writers didn't write one but still, universe-wise, why wouldn't Kotetsu's father be around? 🤔

Well, my reasoning for this theory is when I was watching the show in both English and Japanese I noticed some peculiar phrasing in S1 Ep2. Specifically Kotetsu's flashback of the bank robbery he had been a victim in. In English, with direct closed captioning, he says the following:

Which yeah, a general 'stay away from me' cautionary phrase. 'Hey I could hurt you, might want to keep your distance'.

but, if you change the language to Japanese and select the English captioning that's translated rather than word-for-word dialogue,

We come up with this:

I'm not supposed to touch anyone.

This implies less of general distance and more of a direct order. The difference between 'keep away' and 'I'm not allowed'. Our first phrasing makes it seem that Kotetsu is saying this on his own to keep others away from him, to keep them from getting hurt. But the second phrase, he says it in a way that implies it's been told to him. Why else would he phrase it like so?

And if he was told by someone to not touch anyone while glowing like that, something bad must have happened. Bad enough to warrant his choice of words here.

As we've seen with Kaede when her NEXT powers awakened, (s1 Ep18) she trashed the house on accident as she couldn't control them, which Kotetsu says this in response:

To which his mother agrees:

Tying that in with the fact that we do not see or hear anything of his father at all in the show coupled with the delivery of Kotetsu's flashback dialogue, Kotetsu must have hurt him by accident, bad enough to kill. All of that together could explain the flashback's choice of words.

Going back to Ep2 here for a sec, when Kotetsu sympathizes with Tony about how his friends turned on him after his NEXT powers awakened, we're treated to some differing dialogue again. In English, Kotetsu mentions his friends turned on him and called him a freak; he hated them for that and his powers most of all.

And in Japanese, we get something a little more, detailed:

He cried every day.

Which we could chalk up to kids being ruthless to a NEXT kid, bullying and teasing as they tend to do sometimes. But how he cried every day? I wonder if there was something else below the surface to trigger a much more emotional response.

Which circles it all back to my theory; Kotetsu accidentally killed his father when his powers first awakened as he could not control them.

Perhaps he was angry, or just a little upset. Maybe an action performed in sorrow or anger went too far and caused the death of his father. Realizing how dangerous his powers were, it probably scarred him, made him emotional and distant all at once. And perhaps from that his mother made a rule for him, that rule being 'You cannot touch anyone when you glow like that'. Which brings it all back to the beginning, Kotetsu telling Mr. Legend that he's not supposed to touch anyone when he's glowing like that.

Until he's told his powers can be used to save people instead, anyway, changing his trepidation into hope. 💚