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emeritusemeritus · 2 months

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You think you know someone. [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: You think you know someone.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Timeline: OOTP- canon and timelines altered for purposes of the story. Some bits have been exaggerated for artistic purposes. Based more on the films than the books. Reader joins DA but what if instead of Cho ratting them out, it’s you?

Summary: You had everything during your time at Hogwarts- good friends, Fred Weasley as your boyfriend and a promising future, until Dolores Umbridge turns up.

Warnings: This one turned out a little dark. Mentions of injury, torture, bullying, wounds, blood. Umbridge is a bitch. Snape is a bully. Use of unforgivable curses. Punishment. Kissing, pranks, swearing. Dumbledore’s Army and resistant forces. Brief mentions of Voldemort and probable war. Pet names: baby, sweetheart, princess. Not beta read. Happy ending I promise.

Word count: 9.3k (I feel like I’ve written a novel here)

This work is gifted to @kellyxo1 thanks to the wonderful request that I couldn’t turn down! I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to get this out but it’s been a complete labour of love and I hope you like it!💕

You knew Dolores Umbridge was trouble the moment you spotted her in the Great Hall, her gaudy pink outfit and matching pink cheeks made her stick out like a sore thumb amongst the classic, muted colour pallet you knew to be Hogwarts. Her smile unnerved you, the cold expression in her eyes never once matching the infallible twisted, sadistic smile that so often painted her face. Everything about her rang alarm bells in your mind.

Fred and George had been sitting either side of you at the banquet table in the Great Hall as she took centre stage and delivered her speech about being very good friends, as ominous and foreboding as it seemed.

"That's likely," the twins had mumbled, resting their heads on their hands, elbows on the table as a small act of rebellion against the airs and graces she clearly put on. You'd subconsciously scooted closer to Fred when she stood, reaching for his spare hand under the table that he'd offered you, sensing a little of your discomfort. Fred was always acutely aware of your emotions, able to read you like a book, you supposed it was a natural consequence of being together for so long.

You'd met on the first day of Hogwarts when you'd stepped into the train compartment he shared with George, locked eyes and the rest was history. You'd been dating since your second year, both of you unable to deny the childlike crushes and stolen glances of your attraction and as you grew up, you grew together. Now you were in your last year, with big plans ahead of Fred and George's business which you'd planned to help them with initially and bigger promises of moving in together in the flat above the shop. The natural progression of a happy relationship and an exciting prospect that kept you motivated to finish school on a high.

The atmosphere at Hogwarts was different this year: understandably tense and foreboding, not just because of Cedric's death and the rumoured return of Voldemort but of the disquiet around Harry's claims and the propagandistic reporting from the Daily Prophet refuting Harry's claims. It seemed everyone was divided into wether they believed Harry or if they believed what they were reading in the media. It was evident that the ministry had worked hard to deny and deflect Harry'a claims, disparaging and slandering him publicly. Of course the arrival of a certain Pink adorned dementor didn't help things, especially when she, as new defense against the dark arts teacher, did away with the old curriculum and removed any defensive, practical teaching in favour of simple theory- which would be of no use in real life situations, of which you were all undoubtedly facing. Then the educational decrees began where she was appointed Hogwarts' high inquisitor and sought to change anything she was as unsatisfactory, backed by the ministry, which seemed to propel the whole school further and further away from what it should be teaching and how it should be preparing it's students for what was inevitably happening.

"She can't do this! It's ridiculous, George is fuming, never mind Fred," you overheard Ginny say as you were about to take a seat for dinner but quickly stopped as you gave her a questioning look, not knowing what she meant, her eyes focusing in on your frozen form.

"What?"

"You haven't seen the new decree?" She asks curiously, placing down her fork onto the plate. You shook your head briefly before walking quickly out of the hall, dinner be damned to examine the wall of decrees, trying to fix your eyes onto the new plaque on the wall.

Educational Decree No. 30: All Weasley products will be banned immediately.

You rushed upstairs to the common room, split in two minds about wether they would be there or on the quidditch pitch, trying to expel their frustrations... until you remembered that broom flying had been outlawed unless part of a lesson or during Quidditch games, as few and far between as they were coming due to the constant cancelling.

When you found them in their dorm, George was pacing the room, kicking the wooden frame of his bed after every circuit whilst Fred sat perched on his own bed, face downcast and eyes filled with anger.

You knew it wouldn't stop them, nothing ever did, but the business they forged from nothing had suffered for a while as students were afraid of the repercussions of being searched and found with their products.

"Can't sell my products, can't fly a broom, can't even kiss my own girlfriend unless I find a way to snog her from six inches away!" Fred had been furious and rightly so but there seemed to be no hope in sight.

It seemed no one was unaffected by the drastic measures Umbridge was taking and you were all facing the consequences of the increasing restrictions, in multiple ways. You'd been given detention for the stupidest things, including casting a spell to undo the jinx Malfoy had placed on Neville one afternoon, another leg lock jinx that you'd fixed for him, received another for the muggle book in your possessions and another for deigning to be within six inches of George. The punishment was cruel and twisted but you'd hidden it from Fred, knowing how protective he was and how he'd act out to retaliate against her which would only land him in worse trouble. She seemed to focus on you in particular, for whatever reason you weren't sure but she hardly hid her distaste for you publicly. Fred said it was because of your connection to him and George but you weren't sure, it seemed more personal than that.

It had been Hermione's brilliant idea to forge a sort of rebellion in order to actually learn the practical side of defence and you'd been eager to sign up after attending the first meeting at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, knowing that you had to arm yourself in whatever way you could, the feeling of unease at the current climate always looming overhead. You'd been pleasantly surprised by the turn out, seeing many familiar faces as you'd walked hand in hand with Fred into the small, freezing cold room as you waited for Harry, Ron and Hermione. Cho, Luna, Neville, Ginny, Michael and so many others from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had turned out to fight for the cause and as you looked around the room of friends and familiars, it was evident that this could work.

You'd signed the parchment Hermione had brought with no hesitation, lining up between Fred and Ginny, clearly marking your name under his in the pencil provided. As you walked back to the castle in a group, Fred's arm around you and his hat in your head to keep the cold away from your ears, you felt determined and inspired to make this work. You'd just need to find somewhere to practice away from the prying eyes of the inquisitor.

Then came Educational Decree No.68: All student organisations are henceforth be disbanded. Any student in noncompliance will be expelled.

This time, you weren't angered or afraid of the newly instated restriction but instead felt empowered to rebel. Neville, in a feat of brilliance, had discovered the room of requirement one Saturday afternoon as he made his way down the seventh floor corridor. It was perfect, exactly what was needed, and you'd all wasted no time in putting the room to good use.

Within just two weeks, you'd mastered disarming spells, stunning spells, hexes, jinxes and defensive charms that you'd never thought you could do. Ginny had proven herself to be incredibly skilled and you'd stood watching in amazement as two magpies flying around the room, both coming from your boyfriend and his twin. The twins had taken to placing bets, mostly against Ron, all of you in good spirits about finally being able to do magic again. You and Fred took full advantage of being shielded away from the eyes of Hogwarts and had taken to lingering in the room after the sessions so you could be close to each other, to kiss freely and be intimate again. It had seemed so long, so cruel to have to keep away from him, at least in public and as you watched him master spells so effortlessly and looking so deliciously hot as he did it, often with messy hair and rolled up sleeves, it was exactly what you needed to relieve yourself of the building frustrations.

Fun and laughter had once again returned to Hogwarts, though shielded from the regulating eyes, it was just like before. The twins had even taken to pranking again, no longer concerned by the changes, including giving Filch laced chocolates which made him erupt with giant, puss-filled boils on his face when he got too close to the scent of your secret gatherings.

Educational decree No. 82: All students will submit to questioning about suspected illicit activities.

Umbridge had began to gather students for an inquisitorial squad which would earn them credit for joining, most notably the Slytherin students that weaselled their way into Umbridge's good books. Most probably by being pure bloods. They took great pleasure in pulling up the younger students in particular for punishment or questioning and abused their powers frequently.

Then you returned to school after winter break and the news of the Azkaban breakout happened, constant storms were forecasted, Umbridge's cruel regime heightened. Everything felt so restrictive, so unnecessary, so twisted. The only place you found solace was during DA meetings when you could be yourself, free to act and perform as you wanted surrounded by your friends and boyfriend. Always alert at the imposing threat, knowing Filch was on to you all and the rest of the inquisitorial squad which only fuelled you to keep discreet.

It had been a regular day of classes until your DADA lesson where you'd been required by the toad to write an essay on the benefits of conversational reasoning as opposed to practical magic to handle disputes with half breeds and lower class species, such as centaurs. You'd almost immediately refused to write such things, particularly due to the disgusting terms used to class different species but also due to the ridiculous concept.

"I am teaching you verified way of effective communication, in which you do not have to use your wand," she defends with a sickeningly fake smirk.

"Or our brains by taking away our autonomy," you'd argued, not even under your breath.

"Are you questioning my methods of teaching miss y/l/n? By all means if you think you can do better I should like to see you try."

"Can't be hard, Professor Quirrel did a better job and he shared a head and a singular brain cell with Voldemort."

A murmur of concealed laughter burst from the students around you and for a singular moment you felt the victory of it, empowered even.

"Detention!" She's utterly outraged, her face turning a dangerous shade of fuchsia. You could feel the eyes on you, most notably your boyfriend and his twin from across the room but you didn't care. Since returning to school you'd been torn away from Fred, unable to be anywhere near each other and certainly not in a group with your friends as it would break at least three decrees. You were frustrated and had hit breaking point, anger simmering in you but why you didn't know. You'd completely had enough.

"It's a date Dolores," you said sarcastically with the sickliest smile you could muster. More snickers erupted around you and even a clap that sounded suspiciously like it came from the direction of your future brother in law.

"My office, now!" She screams, pointing with her pink tipped finger towards the door. You grabbed your stuff from the desk and walked out without a single look in anyone's direction. On your way to her office, you pulled the special coin from your pocket and checked over the date and time to check you had it right. There was a DA meeting later that evening and you'd hoped this would be over quickly so that you could still attend.

Only, that never happened. Instead you'd been tortured for hours in the cruelest of ways, repeatedly questioned over your involvement with the alleged group and had been forced to drink truth serum until the words had slipped out of your mouth. You'd had no control over it, no way of resisting any longer and with great shame, you'd told her about the room of requirement, completely unable to stop the words from coming out.

The inquisitorial squad was on you in mere moments, as soon as Umbridge had signalled them from outside the door and Malfoy's grubby hands were pulling your weak and exhausted body from the chair before you could even register the intrusion. The things you'd been through, the pain and the anguish, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt at the DA being discovered; you could only pray that you'd held out long enough so that the meeting was over.

"Where is it?!" Umbridge screamed into your face when you wouldn't disclose the exact location of the room of requirement, having already inadvertently let slip that the room was your meeting place. You gave her your darkest look, no longer feeling controlled by whatever she had obviously put in your tea. When she didn't get an answer, her hand struck you hard right across the cheek but you hardly flinched, hardly feeling the pain anymore.

"I know the way Ma'am," Filch said, his saggy face appearing around the corner creepily, his features twisting into a vulgar, perverse smile. You could hardly look at Umbridge's face as it twisted into a pleased, twisted grin as she fixed her jacket and allowed Filch to lead her. Malfoy grabbed hold of your robes tighter in his fist and you were dragged along with them until you reached the seventh floor.

You felt sick to your stomach, wanting to scream and cry, resist in anyway you could as you fought against Malfoy's hold but you were physically tired and weak. Crabbe had grabbed hold of the other side of you, your thrashing too much for Malfoy to hold down by himself and his hands were much tougher against your skin, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. When the door to the room of requirement didn't appear, you felt hopeful that she'd realise you were lying, even if that meant horrendous consequences for you. There was no way of warning them, nothing you could do to allow them to flee, you'd have to watch as they were all caught redhanded. They'd think you ratted them out, your friends, the love of your life. You knew it was exactly what Umbridge wanted, to turn everyone against you- and she was undoubtedly going to get it.

"Bombarda Maxima," her eerily calm and squeaky voice rang out as she pointed her want at the wall. Your scream mixed in with the large bang as a giant hole was created in the wall, depris and dust flying everywhere.

When the dust cloud cleared, you were dragged off from the side viciously by Malfoy and Crabbe until you were presented in front of the Army- your friends. You didn't want to look up from your spot on the floor, still fighting against their holds on you but something made you look up. And then you met his eyes.

Fred had never looked at you that way, ever. The looks of love and adoration you'd become accustomed to over the years, the playfulness and the intimate looks, it was all gone. The look in his eyes would haunt you forever, the coldness, betrayal and the resentment and it was explicitly clear what his expression told you.

He believed that you ratted them out, believed that you could ever do that to him, to them all.

You had to look away, desperate to see any hope that someone believed you, that someone sympathised with the torment you'd endured but as your eyes travelled across to George, you stopped short. He looked furious with you, disgusted and despite everything you'd been through in the past few hours, you'd receive no sympathy or chance to explain yourself to the people you loved.

You were dragged away as Umbridge dealt with the Army, bestowing threats and punishments upon them that you couldn't hear. You no longer fought against the holds of the Slytherins but instead went willingly, feeling guilty, shame and simply dirty for your role in all of this, even if it wasn't your fault.

Members of the ministry arrived not too long after, having been alerted prior to the discovery of the DA. You couldn't look at Kingsley, much too distraught to see his look of disgust at you, no doubt planning to tell the Order what you'd done. Harry was ushered in not long after having been caught in the skirmish. His newfound hatred of you seemed to radiate off him as he stood beside you and this alone made you want to scream and cry out of frustration, tears welling in your eyes that you wouldn't allow to spill.

The final straw was when Percy walked in, without so much as a glimmer of recognition towards you and took over from Malfoy to restrain you and Harry, keeping the shoulder of your robe balled up in his hand. The minister ordered him to dispatch an owl to the Daily Prophet and he diligently nodded, trying to manoeuvre you along with him.

"Get off me Weatherby," you demanded viciously, fighting against his hold and managing to break free, only to be stopped as you all looked on in amazement as Dumbledore disappeared out of sight in a magnificent display.

You'd hoped after that, you'd be able to get Harry alone, to explain yourself to him, to tell him what had happened but he'd completely avoided you, blanked you entirely. You hardly blamed him but you needed to explain, to clear your name. Umbridge then commanded Harry to join her in the hall where the punishment was being conducted, all of the DA together.

You'd been permitted to return to your dorm after the meeting had finished but you stood outside of the hall doors, desperate to see Fred and explain yourself, hoping he could bring you at least an ounce of comfort. Your head was pounding from the pain earlier and the marks on your arms were throbbing, sore and weeping though you fought not to look at them, knowing the pain would only be worse when you saw what was tormenting you. You couldn't go to Madame pomfrey, Umbridge had made that very clear and so you suffered in complete silence until you could reach out for your friends.

You lingered outside of the door for what felt like hours, the anxiety and the nerves you felt seemingly freezing time. When the doors opened, the members of the DA began pouring out with soured looks on their faces which only heightened when they caught sight of you. It was never hard to spot Fred and George amongst a crowd, their towering height easily distinguishable amongst a sea of people.

The look on everyone's face was near identical, the disgust and the resentment evident in their eyes as they spotted you but none clearer than the twins. George looked like he detested you, his face scrunched into a look of utter distaste, eyes glaring into you as he walked past without a care. Fred looked away, ignoring your presence completely as he glided past you without muttering a single word, his face stone cold and void of expression.

"Freddie, please," you said weakly and emotionally, with tears in your eyes, turning around in the spot as he walked past you. But nothing, he didn't turn, didn't react, simply walked away without so much as a single glance.

"Harry," you implored, taking a step towards him but he too blanked you again, pushing past you and walking quickly up the steps to avoid you.

You stood alone in the cold and empty corridor, feeling more isolated and alone than you ever had and finally allowed yourself to cry. Silent tears fell down your cheeks, shoulders sagging as you cried for everything you had undoubtedly lost, for the treatment you'd received and for the pain you still felt in your head and arms. Finding a spot in a hidden corner, you finally allowed yourself to pull up the sleeve of your robe and look upon the damage that Umbridge had inflicted with her sadistic quill. It was horrendous, an onslaught of slurs and vicious words etched into your body, no doubt intentionally done to leave the scars as a permanent reminder.

You sobbed your heart out in that little nook between two cold, stone pillars as you tried desperately to heal the marks but no spell was strong enough even to numb it in your weakened state.

You eventually made your way to Gryffindor tower, stepping through the portrait and finding the common room practically deserted. You sighed and walked up the stone steps to your dorm, only to find that the door had been shut and your blanket and pillow had been thrown outside of it, a clear sign you were not welcome even within your own dorm. You were painfully exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and cry into your pillow until you eventually passed out. But you didn't even deserve that.

With a heavy sigh, you collected your blanket and pillow and trudged down the steps back towards the common room, eyes blurry through a mixture of tiredness and tears. You stopped short the second you crossed the last step, seeing Fred and George step in through the portrait hole, your stomach flipping nervously as you anticipated a barrage of insults or horrible pranks, their allegiance turning from you now.

"Fred, Freddie please," you begged, dropping your makeshift bedding to walk towards him, trying to reach out for him. You paused as you saw the redness on the back of his left hand, a clearly fresh punishment, 'I must not break rules'. George intercepts immediately and barges past you, blocking you from getting to Fred as he turns his twin away from you.

"You think you know someone," George mutters as he gently nudges Fred up the stairs, sending you a vicious glare before he walks up after him, once again leaving you alone. Fred didn't even spare a single glance at you, not even to recoil away.

You curled up in a corner armchair as soon as the tears appeared, pathetically dragging the blanket over you and cried until you fell asleep in the uncomfortable chair.

The two weeks that followed were the absolute worst weeks of your life. Umbridge had stripped you of everything you loved in one fell swoop, turned everyone against you and left the place you called home feeling miserable and lonely. You deserved it, you knew that, having ratted them out. You'd antagonised her and now had to live through then consequences, as cruel and twisted as they were.

The glares from everyone you had once called friends hadn't stopped, especially from George, which hurt the most. Fred had outright ignored any effort you'd made to reach out to him, no matter how desperate you'd sounded or how hard you'd tried to make him understand. He didn't care. He believed the lie.

The first week you'd tried to take your meals with the rest of the Gryffindors but it was made abundantly clear to you that you were not permitted nor welcome to join your friends and had been cruelly banished to the end of the table, beside the first years. The second week you'd stopped attending meals at all, not able to push through the shame and embarrassment of being cast away, exiled from your group. Lessons were monotonous and any down time was utterly excruciating as you were left enclosed with the other Gryffindors, namely your ex boyfriend, though no one would make any contact with you. You'd tried to sleep in your dorm but the girls had done nearly everything to prevent you from actually sleeping, talking loudly, setting off whizzbangs inside your curtains and had even transfigured your blanket a few times to varying degrees of horrid things. At the end of the night when you were certain everyone was asleep, usually very late, you'd creep down to the common room and huddle into your uncomfortable chair to sleep, only to be woken mere hours later when the first of the easy risers woke up. Your life was hell.

"There's just something I don't understand," Hermione says as they all stand on the bridge, the golden trio, Ginny and the Twins, all wrapped up in warm clothes and sweaters as they discuss the changes put into place since Umbridge had taken over as Headmistress. Naturally, the conversation had diverted to you, something Fred was entirely displeased about. The group turn to Hermione after her words, intrigued by the change in tone. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes before opening them again, as if building the strength to say her next sentence.

"I jinxed the enrolment parchment, for Dumbledore's Army," she admits, not quite meeting the gaze of the group around her. "It was purely a preventative measure, incase we were betrayed by one of our own. The person who disclosed any secrets would be jinxed to break out in spots, to spell out 'sneak' across their forehead, so we knew who the betrayer was. Y/N didn't have that, she never even had a single spot."

"Blimey Hermione," Ron says a little breathlessly, disbelieving she'd have actually gone that far.

"I know," she says a little defensively, "I just can't work out how she got around it!"

"Maybe she wrote her name wrong? Did she know about the jinx?" Harry suggests but Hermione shook her head, at the very same time that Ginny replied.

"I was behind her, I saw her write her name. It was right."

"Maybe the jinx didn't work?" Harry suggests carefully but stops himself when he receives a forceful glare from Hermione at the very notion of her failure.

"What does it matter? She dobbed us in wether or not she's covered in spots!" Ron says rather harshly, leaning against the wooden bannister.

Fred can't listen anymore, completely overwhelmed by the conversation and the thought of you betraying them. He turns and walks off back towards the castle without so much as a word to the others, not even his twin, and ignores their calls of his name as they watch him fade into the distance.

Spotting you sitting alone in the corner of the room when he returns to the common room, he frowns to himself. He'd known you since the moment you stepped on the Hogwarts express and had loved you for nearly just as long. It was wrong to see you sat alone, so sad and without the usual spark you naturally emitted. Everyone had always been drawn to you, your humour and wit, your dazzling smile, the fact you made everyone aroun you feel comfortable and valued. Too many boys had been drawn to you for his liking but you'd never even given them the time of day, never once wavering in your loyalty to him or ever made him doubt that it was him you wanted. You'd spent years supporting him, helping him and George develop their products, cheering for him loudly at every Quidditch game and had wormed your way into the hearts of every single one of his family members. Secretly, it crushed him to see you so lonely and tired, even if he still felt the sting of your betrayal.

It didn't add up, though he wouldn't disclose this to any of the more angered members of the group, why you would do such a thing. You'd been excited to start the DA, had joined in enthusiastically, kept the secret for so long and most of all you completely despised Umbridge. He couldn't deny that he still loved you, even though he was conflicted with his feelings now, he still held out hope that this would all go away, that there was a reasonable explanation but his anger wouldn't allow him to listen. It killed him to push you away, wanting nothing more than for things to return to normal but he felt a deep sense of betrayal that he couldn't shift.

"Fred?" He heard from behind him, pulling him out of his musings making him realise that he'd been staring at you all this time as he turned towards the person addressing him. Her name was Emery Atkinson, a Gryffindor from the year below that he'd never really acknowledged or spent much time with.

"Yeah?" He replies politely though he couldn't escape the edge of irritation after being pulled away from his thoughts. He watches as the girl giggles as soon as he acknowledges her and tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Oh good I got the right twin!" She giggles, ignorant to the blank look she received from Fred. "I was wondering if you had some canary creams I could buy? My brother loves them and it's his birthday soon. Your inventions are so clever, I don't know how you and George find the time between your studies and Quidditch, it must be exhausting. You're so good as Quidditch, I always cheer you on. Plus your girlfriend, but I heard that you weren't together anymore right?"

Truthfully, Fred had only registered the first half of her speech, tuning out after Canary Creams but his attention had been drawn back at the mention of you. He can't help but feel that little stab of sadness at the mention of you, especially someone referring to you as his girlfriend, or Ex rather. In the back of his mind he wonders if you heard that, from your short distance away, he hoped not.

"I still can't believe it, why would she do that? If I was with you I wouldn't even dream of ruining it." She sounds faux-scandalised and quite frankly, rather bitchy as he reaches out to touch the sleeve of his sweater. Fred doesn't humour her and instead takes half a step back subtly, reaching to scratch the back of his head as a discreet way of getting her off.

"Er, yeah I think we have some creams leftover, I'll send George over with some later, alright?"

"Not you?" She says with a sad little face, trying out her best puppy dog eyes that have absolutely no affect on him.

"George deals with the confectionery," he says a little too quickly; which is a complete lie. "Sorry, I've got somewhere to be but I'll let him know you're interested in buying."

He breaks away, giving her a forced but polite smile and a brief, parting wave but it's awkward and he's inwardly cringing as soon as he puts his hand down. Turning to where you had been sat in the chair, he notices you've disappeared and he is instantly overcome with a wave of guilt. You'd heard it all.

—

The next few days passed in blur for Fred, his mind wandering between what he was doing and thoughts of you, like he couldn't concentrate for more than a minute. He felt so conflicted within himself, made worse by the time spent apart from you, the longing beginning to set in. He'd never really been apart from you for very long, at most only a few weeks during the summer holidays and even then you'd have sent numerous letters by now, keeping in contact as much as you could until you were back beside each other. Now it was just torture, having you so close but so far away and the knowledge that he was the one that had pushed you away only furthered his guilt and internal conflict.

Fred was in a terrible mood, battling his thoughts, surviving on very little sleep and now the threat of her sadistic punishment was the icing on the cake of a really crap day when he and George had been forced to Umbridge's office. Harry had been caught trying to use the floo, to alert the order or escape and had been caught red handed by Umbridge. Each member of the DA had been frogmarched into the office, shoved and restrained by members of the inquisitorial squad and each member looked as uneasy as the next. His stomach turned when he saw Ginny held down by Goyle and he fought to get out of Graham Montegue's hold but it was useless when Umbridge mindlessly cast a spell to subdue him.

Harry was sat in the chair in the centre of the room, the first to be questioned with Umbridge hovering dangerously close to him, her temper boiling over as she speaks frantically in his face.

"You were going to Dumbledore weren't you?" She says, leaning down threateningly in front of Harry.

"No," Harry responds.

"Liar!" She screams back and in a move that shocks each member of the DA, she pulls back her hand and slaps Harry hard around the face, the harsh sound echoing through the otherwise silent room.

She pauses for a moment, simply glaring at Harry until her face twists into a sick, twisted grin as she straightens up and composes herself, each movement carefully thought out as she turns her back to him.

"Very well, you give me no choice Potter," she says with an even cadence, her tone dangerously low. "As this is an issue of Ministry security, you leave me with... no alternative, unless Professor Snape arrives within moments."

Fred feels like he can hardly breathe, the tension and unease in the air so thick that the room feels like it's getting smaller by the second. The unpredictability of the woman before them was alarming, the dangerous undertone of her voice despite her light and breezy tone was almost scarier than his worst nightmare.

"The cruciatus curse ought to loosen your tongue," she says, adjusting her pink jacket.

"That's illegal," Hermione states in outrage but Umbridge hardly flinches. Instead, she reaches out for the photo frame of the minister on her desk and pauses briefly to look at it before turning it over and lying it down flat on the desk, so that Fudge could not see her next move. She straightens herself and extends her wand, only to stop when Snape appears by the door, his eyes fixed to her outstretched wand that was pointed directly at Harry.

"You sent for me Headmistress?"

"Snape, yes," she says, taking a step back and everyone in the room exhales, relaxing only slightly. "The time has come for answers, wether he wants to give them to me or not," she says, her eyes flicking to Harry only briefly.

"Might I suggest against the cruciatus curse this time headmistress," he says evenly and carefully, "the consequences of such an audience might be... disagreeable. In fact I would hesitate in conducting any of the prior disciplinary methods in this instance.""

This time? She'd used the cruciatus curse before? And on a student? Prior disciplinary methods? Fred thinks, did he mean the quill?

"Very well," she says after a moment of pondering, her arm falling to her side as she relents, eyes wandering over the all too familiar Quill that sits proudly on her desk before her gaze shifts back to Snape. "Have you brought the veritaserum?"

"I'm afraid you've used up all my stores, the last of it interrogating Miss y/l/n."

Snape carries on speaking but Fred doesn't hear a single word, blood rushing to his ears as his heart pounds. He feels like he's received a stray bludger straight to the chest, his stomach dropping with fresh shame, sadness and overwhelming guilt.

Suddenly it all made sense. She'd tortured you into giving out the information- the cruciatus curse, veritaserum, what else had she done to you?

He couldn't help but let out a dry sob at the information, sensing everyone's eyes on him at the news. He struggled against the holds with everything in him, needing to fix what he'd broken.

He'd believed them, so quickly, believed that you could have betrayed them like that. The pain you must have felt, the loneliness and the guilt and then after your whole ordeal he had cast you aside, pushed you away and never given you a single chance to explain.

He eventually turned to look at George who looked utterly broken by the news, his regretful inner thoughts so evident upon his face. Each member of the DA looked a mixture of guilty, sheepish and sad, realising how wrong they'd been about you and what they'd done to someone who had once been their friend, someone who had suffered so much for all of them.

The meeting seemed to go abhorrently slowly until Umbridge left with Harry and Hermione on a sort of mission based upon a quickly constructed lie and Fred didn't waste a single moment before turning around on the spot and punching Graham Montegue straight in the face as soon as Umbridge had left. Seizing the momentary upper hand, the remaining members of the DA turned on the inquisitorial squad and fired an array of jinxes and spells at them in order to get away.

"Fred, Go!" George had urged whilst stunning Crabbe, allowing Ginny to step free. Malfoy fought back but he was quickly matched by Angelina who covered for Fred, blocking the exit.

"Go, she needs you!" Angelina shouted as she sent a jinx flying towards Cassius Warrington's smug face.

Fred didn't hang about and immediately ran out of the office and towards the common room where he was praying you'd be. It was quiet on the main staircases, perhaps it seemed much quieter because of the lack of portraits and bare walls but even to the few people Fred passed, he offered no explanation nor cared about what they thought. He needed to find you.

"Y/n!" He said bursting through the portrait hole and scanning the common room for you, checking the chair you'd so often occupied but found nothing except a couple of bewildered faces at his strange outburst.

"Y/n?" He called again, walking up the stairs towards the dormitories but received no reply. In his haste, he accidentally misstepped as he climbed up to the girls dorm and nearly triggered the blocking slide to appease but fortunately managed to regain his balance and stress carefully over the path he'd taken so many times before, the secret message in the steps that allowed him to breach the rules.

He threw open your dormitory door and stopped blankly when he found nothing. Your bed looked like it hadn't been slept in, there was hardly any of your things around the bed and the room. Had he come to the wrong room?

"Fred?" Your voice said shyly from behind him and he whipped around to see you looking up at him hesitantly from near the door, holding a few things in your arms and your robe tied tightly around your chest.

"Y/n," he says with a sigh of relief, moving forwards quickly to reach out to you but once again stopping short as he noticed you visibly flinch at his sudden movement. Suddenly the overwhelming agony of guilt and regret hit him anew and he vowed to slow down, hoping not to scare you away.

"I'm so sorry," he said, voice breaking slightly as he looked at your tired, sullen face and those wide, scared eyes. He'd never seen you look so broken and it killed him.

"I didn't, I don't ," he stutters, dropping to sit on the side of your bed. "You haven't been sleeping here have you?"

There's a minor pause and he wonders if you're actually going to reply to him, if he even deserves it, until you step forward and place your things down onto the bedside table. He watches in silence, noting the large book and a few packaged bandages that slip onto the table as you gingerly take a seat beside him, your feet no longer touching the floor.

"Kind of hard to when you're banished by the rest of your dorm," you reply quietly. He can't detect the tone of your voice, expecting it to be sarcastic or unhappy but it actually sounds flat and completely void of emotion.

"The chair," he realises, "you've been sleeping in that chair?" He's slightly bewildered and profoundly ashamed now, not having clicked until now that you'd been there early in a morning and late in the night, much later than you'd ever typically stayed up before. You shrug and turn your attention away, though you're yet to actually meet his eyes.

He drags a deep breath in through his teeth, resisting the urge to hang his head low on his shoulders.

"Y/n, I am so sorry, I, I don't even have words," he says, stumbling over his words- something so uncharacteristic for him that it briefly startles you. "You didn't deserve this, even if you had told Umbridge about us, no one deserves this. We were all so shocked that it could be you, of all people. We never stopped to think of why," he pauses again, steadying himself. "Snape admitted what she did to you, she tried to use it on Harry but he stopped him."

"But the quill was broken? How could she use it on Harry?" You say, finally looking up with a look of complete confusion.

"What quill?" Fred asks, completely lost himself, "the black quills? I meant the cruciatus curse, she, I mean she, on you, didn't she?"

Your silence says everything and he has to close his eyes and steady his breathing at your silent confirmation.

"What quill?" Fred feels a little bolder now and reaches for you but you pull your arm back and place it in your lap, trying not to wince as you catch the healing scars. "This one?"

He holds out his hand and shows you the faint markings from his punishment, 'I must not break rules' barely visible now. He frowns when you shake your head but don't offer any other explanation. He's frustrated that he's not getting anywhere but it's internal and he knows it's not your fault, he just wishes he could help, or go back in time and fix everything.

"Tell me, please," he says, keeping his eyes locked in the side of your face, trying to urge you to look at him. "What happened in that detention?"

"It doesn't matter," you say quickly, hopping down off the bed and stepping over to your trunk to get a fresh shirt from the laundry pile, knowing it would need changing. "I've got to shower."

You go to turn away but Fred lunges for you and grabs your arm to stop you from leaving, making you cry out in pain as soon as his fingers make contact with the tender skin. As soon as the shock wears off, he frowns, looking down at your arm before looking up to your face, seeing tears falling down your cheeks.

"Please baby, please just tell me," he says, voice breaking as his own tears well up in his eyes.

"She told you about the veritaserum?" You ask, assuming anyway and Fred nods. "Then you know what you need to know."

"No, I don't," he says quickly, trying to think of ways to stop you leaving without hurting you. "She used an unforgivable curse on you! Gave you truth serum, you cried when I touched your arm and you have bandages on your bedside table, please just tell me what happened!"

"Fine," you say, pulling your arm back. "You want to know? She tried to force it out of me, tried to get me to drink the stupid tea but I wouldn't. When that didn't work she pulled out that little stupid quill and wrote anything she wanted all over me. You wanted to know about the bandages? Fine," you said viciously, clawing at the fastening of your robe. Underneath was your once crisp, white shirt that had a considerable amount of red blood staining the sleeve. You didn't stop undressing, all but ripping the buttons away as you fought to show Fred what was underneath.

Bandages littered your forearms, with blood oozing out the sides. Fred's frozen as he looks at the bandages on your body, sick to his stomach already.

"Did you know Snape is a skilled occlumens? I didn't, I do now. So after she was playing with that sadistic little quill, writing whatever she wanted into my skin, he enters my mind and shows me every single fear I've ever had, every nightmare. But I didn't say a word, not a single fucking word. Do you know what it's like to have visions forced into your own mind of your boyfriend dying in front of you repeatedly, over and over until you start to go mad? All whilst your skin is slashed open just to get you to talk? Only it didn't work, so she dropped the quill and picked up her wand. I've never felt closer to death in my life but still so far away from it. But I wouldn't talk. So she forced veritaserum in my mouth and I couldn't stop it, she got what she wanted no matter what I'd fought for. And the best part? They don't heal, not truly. Nothing I do stops it, like a constant reminder of what happened."

"Princess," Fred chokes out, tears streaming down his cheeks, fighting to hold back his sobs at your words.

"No, not princess," you say sternly, emotions all falling from your face. "Not anymore."

"Please, I want to make this right, anything I can do, I want to support you," he says, nearly begging. "I have to make this right, I can't lose you."

"No."

Your voice is harsh and stern, your face expressionless again. "You believed them so easily, you all did. You believed I could do that to you, without hesitation. You didn't let me explain, never even looked at me because you were so certain that I could have done it. I've been exiled, banished and forgotten by all of you I called friends without a single thought. So you and your stupid brother and the rest of Dumbledore's friggin army can go fuck yourselves, it's not my fight anymore."

Fred flinches as the door slams shut behind you and he's left to sob openly, his devastation consuming him. Eventually when he returns to his own dorm, George says nothing upon seeing his twin's stricken face and his curtains fully closing around the bed.

The next morning, Fred has already left the dorm by the time George wakes up and doesn't see him at all around the common room or the hall, though he's not surprised. But when he doesn't show to his lessons, George worries and goes in search for his twin with increasing worry. Eventually, he finds him in the library, pouring over an array of books from the restricted section, most of them about healing spells and anatomy.

"Freddie?"

When Fred looks up with red rimmed eyes and an intense look in his eyes, it's clear to George that Fred hadn't slept. "Whatever it is, let me help."

One week. It took one week of endlessly pouring over book after book until they finally found options.

It's early morning on a Saturday when Fred creeps down to the common room was before the sun has risen, seeing you hunched over in your chair. Angelina had told him that they'd apologised profusely to you and had accepted you back with open arms back to the dormitory but you'd simply walked away and carried on sleeping by the fire, not yet willing to forgive them for the treatment you'd endured.

"Y/n, y/n, wake up," he says quietly, carefully touching your shoulder, trying to avoid anywhere that he had seen bandaged.

"Freddie?" You ask sleepily and his heart soars with hope at the noise, the familiarity of it abs the softness of your voice so heartwarming.

"I have something to show you, me and George," he says lightly, waiting for you to wake up.

"Told you both to get fucked," you mumble, squashing any hope he had, but he perseveres.

"Just this once prince-y/n, please," he says quietly. You open your eyes, seeing him still dressed in his pyjamas, pleading with his eyes and looking so vulnerable that you relent and agree to whatever he had planned. Throwing back the blanket, you surprise a groan at the stiffness in your neck and diligently follow him back up the stairs towards his dorm, accepting his hand as he guides you. Your hand fits perfectly into his, just as it always had.

"Where's Lee?" You say as you walk into the dorm room, seeing only George who gives you a small but timid smile.

"Bunking with Ron," Fred says somewhat vaguely, gesturing for you to sit on his bed. The room looks exactly as you remember albeit slightly less dishevelled than you'd experienced previously, but you don't mention anything. Fred takes a seat beside you and George moves forward, grabbing a book from the chair beside his bed.

"We don't know if this will work," George says.

"But it's better than nothing," Fred finishes, gingerly reaching out for your hand.

"What?"

"The wounds," George says gently, "Fred told me, we just want to make them better. Might not get rid of them completely but it's worth a shot."

"Found this in an old healing book, it's a counter curse for wound healing by curse," Fred says, taking the book from George to show you. "Figured Umbridge's quill must have been cursed so this might work. Please let us help."

All it takes is a nod from you, albeit slightly hesitant but truthfully there was no one you trusted more than the twins, before at least.

You could hardly look them in the eyes as you pulled away the bandages, the vile words etched into your skin by her personal sadistic quill. You heard George inhale at the deepest cut along your inner right forearm but didn't react, knowing it would be shocking to anyone.

"Take my hand, if it hurts too much all you have to do is squeeze and we'll stop, okay baby?"

Biting down on your lip to stifle your cries, you hold Fred's hand tightly as George begins to cast the counter-curse, each of you watching on with rapt attention and slight amazement as the cuts begin to slowly knit together. It was working.

You whimper as he works over the deepest, the same one Fred had accidentally caught the week before and Fred's hand squeezes yours automatically for support.

"You're doing so well sweetheart, it'll be over soon I promise," he says quietly in your ear, comforting you in anyway he could.

After the last cut is sealed, George immediately drops down to sit onto his bed, his concentration and energy depleted from focusing so hard. You can't believe it as you look down at your arms, no longer seeing blood and only able to see the faintest of marks and redness where the wounds had once been. Only then do tears begin to fall from your eyes as you launch yourself towards Fred, throwing your arms around him in appreciation. He steadies himself after a moment of being caught off guard and holds you tightly against him, shushing you gently as you cry. His arms wrap around you so perfectly, so protectively and his smell comforts you like to no other, exactly as you remember.

"You did so well, so well, it's okay baby," he coos into your ear. You pull apart slowly and immediately walk over to George, pulling him into a hug though it's a lot less intimate.

"Thank you both so much," you sniffle.

"You're welcome," they answer at the same time, making you smile.

"We've missed you," George says after a moment. "I'm so sorry for what you went through and for what I said. I should have known it wasn't your fault, you've been my best friend for so long and I'm so ashamed of myself for how easily I believed her over you, that should never have happened."

"And you know how sorry I am," Fred says, walking over to you and kneeling down until he's directly in front of you.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me and I was an idiot for ever thinking it was you. I know things can't ever go back to how they were before, but I love you so much that I can't lose you. Seeing you hurting almost broke me and I know that you might need time or never see me again but you need to know exactly how I still feel about you."

"It's not just you," you say in reply, heaving out a long breathe, "I pushed people away."

"We deserved it," George says.

"Baby," Fred says gently, getting your attention. "I don't know how to fix this or how to make things better, but I'll do anything. I was an idiot, a complete git but I'll spent the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Please say this isn't ruined."

For the first time since the incident, you allow yourself to feel hopeful that things could get better, that Fred could love you again. Sat surrounded by the two people you loved most in the world, you finally felt the love and protection you'd been needing since that awful night.

"I want that," you say quietly, picking at the blanket under your fingers, "I just want things to just go back to normal." You raise your eyes up to Fred's to see him smiling back at you, clearly pleased with your words.

"Well, let's start with this then," he says with a mischievous smirk, leaning towards you painfully slowly as if he's giving you plenty of time to say no or push him away. His soft lips press against yours gently and you can't help but feel a warmth spread all over your body, almost like you were defrosting and returning back to you're usual self. His hand reaches up to cup the side of your jaw and you're certain you can feel a fear hit your cheek, though it doesn't come from you.

The next morning, you walk hand in hand with Fred into the great hall for breakfast and sit right back at the centre of the table with your friends. You assume Fred or George had threatened them not to say anything as everyone around you acts normal, pretending the previous weeks didn't exist, though one by one they all apologised to you, most notably Ron and Harry. Ginny thought you were badass for everything you'd been through, not relenting even though you'd been tortured into eventually revealing the secret. Hermione had apologised so eloquently and thoroughly that you both ended up crying in the common room as she explained about the jinxed parchment and how she'd held out hope that it hadn't been you.

Each person made it up to you in anyway they could, admitting their mistakes and regrets and though you would probably never forget, you chose to forgive.

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teabutmakeitazure · 9 months

Text

Homewrecker - Dalliance? Or Love?

>Yan! Chrollo x Fem! Reader

>Word count: 2.5k

(Set in the early stages of the relationship, no yandere warning for now)

Homewrecker

Chrollo still remembers it clearly.

He remembers how he got to know you, the way you were so guarded and dismissive of him, how you didn't let him get any closer, and how he wanted to crush that distance to turn it into want. Just the thought of a woman not falling for what he has in his arsenal is enough of a bother. Imagine his annoyance when it actually happened.

Even so, he remembers it all clearly. Chrollo never thought he would take wooing a woman as a challenge, but it happened. It happened, and he doesn't regret even a second of it.

Perhaps the moment he truly got to understand you was on your birthday, the first one since he met you. He was still playing around back then, viewing you as an entertaining way to pass the time more than someone he was genuinely interested in.

The realisation that maybe, maybe the reason why he bothered to stay so long in one place and continuously pester one specific individual for their attention is not because of seeking personal benefit was a hard pill to swallow. It failed to motivate Chrollo to simply up and leave, making you ineffaceable instead.

It is one thing for a thief to seek out leisure and it is another thing for a thief to seek out treasure.

You had become the latter to him.

That day - that birthday - just might have been the day it all started, even if Chrollo hadn't realised it immediately. Recalling the conversation almost always ends with Chrollo concluding that you are some angelic version of him. A person who shares similar thoughts and holds similar beliefs in lots of areas but still has their faith in humanity intact, rose coloured lenses permanently covering their eyes.

How utterly naive of the person and how utterly foolish of Chrollo for finding that naivety cute.

You always were adorable in his eyes. No wonder he grew so increasingly fond of you so quickly.

The words you had said echo in his mind at times, stirring up some peculiar ache in his chest. Chrollo's rib cage feels heavy just from recalling the memory. He wonders how he heard them with no physical reaction.

"Humans are the most brutal creatures, but they are also the kindest. We have the choice to choose which category we wish to belong to.”

Though it was said in response to an old man yelling profanities at a young couple simply walking hand in hand at the park, Chrollo did not miss the saddened look on your face. He still remembers how your facial features were illuminated by the park's street lights in the midnight darkness. It's a memory he begrudgingly cherishes simply because your statement was amusing to him.

It was dark that night. The moon was nowhere to be seen due to all the clouds and Chrollo had 'accidentally' run into you as you aimlessly wandered through the pathways. Perhaps calling it an accident is too pitiful of a lie. He knew where you were. Seeking you out was just an effect of his boredom.

Despite your initial disgust of his straightforward advances, you had still welcomed his company upon seeing him completely enervated. Whether it was pity or sympathy, he does not know. All that matters to a selfish man like Chrollo is that he got what he was seeking. An enjoyable way to pass the time and your good graces, though he wasn’t originally aiming for the latter.

It did not come as a surprise to him when you became more tolerant of his presence after that evening. From having blocked him on all your contacts and visibly grimacing upon seeing him in person, you had slowly gone to conversing with him over text during late night hours and actively participating in conversation with him.

Chrollo had refused to admit it but after seeing the fruit of his indefatigable labour, he did not feel as accomplished as he should have. Instead, a feeling of contentment is all he had received in return. An addictive feeling of ‘completeness’, whatever that means.

He had felt whole. In your presence, there were no heists to plan, no enemies to be mindful of, nothing. There was only the divine blessing of your presence, your soothing voice and your soft hands.

(But Chrollo is not religious, or that is what he likes to think of himself. At night, when the winds blow against the window and a lack of warmth next to him in the king sized bed keeps him awake with his insomnia, he puts his reservations aside and feels thankful to the Divine for allowing such warmth into his life. The thankfulness is quickly replaced by bitterness but it was there, no matter how brief it was.)

The questions that have plagued his consciousness have not been answered but he finds them a little absurd nowadays. He blames the newfound feeling on your intervention in his life. Chrollo thinks of you as an intruder in his routine, someone who pushes the boundaries of his comfort, making him question things he never bothered to consider.

The lens through which you perceived the world did not change, but the lens through which Chrollo perceived you did. It had turned into greed. What was once mere entertainment had metamorphosed into something uglier, something that made him want to grab you and always keep you within arm’s length. Or even closer. Ah, definitely closer.

What happened next was simply natural then.

The peculiar friendship you two had formed was slowly shifting into a relationship. Instead of asking for your insight on things, Chrollo found himself teasing you more. There was no more professionalism in his conversations, casual demeanour and sarcastic remarks replacing his courteousness. No longer does Chrollo hold back on saying things explicitly no matter how crude some things might be.

With that being said… maybe you enjoy his crude remarks. You did once choke on some water in an attempt to control your laughter.

Saying that his interactions that have started to test your reactions are only to see how palatable some things are to you is akin to a person thoroughly examining a treasure would be too dehumanising. Instead, Chrollo likens it to praising those big shiny things that the notoriously rich like to collect, but you are even more precious than measly polished metals and shiny rocks. No, you are one of a kind.

Even if he accumulated all the wealth and treasure in the world and placed it on a balancing scale with you, the beam would remain tilted. You are more valuable than anything in the world. Of course you outweigh the world’s treasures.

The breeze is cool today. Both curtains are pushed inside by the wind, courtesy of the terrace doors being open. Air circulates around the apartment, entering through the terrace and leaving through the bedroom and study windows. There is cooked food on the stove and it’s the weekend.

But the apartment is empty. Bleakness drips from the ceiling, enveloping the furniture and floor in a colourless existence. The sofa cushions feel as hard as concrete, not that such a thing would bother Chrollo. This afternoon has a low, languorous feel to it, but there’s still something missing. There is no colour, no warmth.

It feels wrong to be here.

Chrollo turns a page.

The breeze stops blowing, but returns stronger. The curtains are pushed even harder as they rise to an almost 90 degree angle just to fall again.

Chrollo closes the book. His arm rises to his eyes to shield him from whatever sunlight enters the living room. It’s cloudy today which means the sun isn’t out, yet it still feels too bright. Or maybe the apartment is too dark, too bleak.

Chrollo turns to his side, the book now sitting on the coffee table nearby. The only sounds he hears are of the refrigerator gently buzzing and the busy street below. Though the latter is very faint, Chrollo finds himself wondering if you’re in the midst of that yet. Bitterness immediately makes itself known, and he buries his face deeper into the backrest as he imagines you having brunch with your friends.

It’s a cool summer day. The weather is absolutely perfect for that pastel yellow sundress he bought you last week, yet you left. You left him for some petty ‘friends’ who would not even bat an eye if you were to disappear off the face of the planet this very second.

He knew he shouldn’t have gone so far. He knew he should have left this town when he had the chance instead of seeking out a dalliance like some attention starved imbecile. No. What Chrollo should call this is love, not some filthy excuse of affection.

He calls this love, yet you… you…

The blanket hanging from the backrest is pulled down, and Chrollo covers himself with it. He recalls the times you’ve spent lying on this very sofa, trapped between him and the backrest as you peacefully sleep in his arms. With good times come bad times. The moments he is living through right now certainly do not belong to the former.

He closes his eyes, willing his mind to drift somewhere else. All attempts to ponder over anything else fails and his train of thought backtracks to you. At least he can find comfort in the fact that you wore the ring and are probably flaunting it to your friends.

A bird lands somewhere on the terrace, chirping as it drinks water from the ceramic bowl you left in a corner. Chrollo turns his face back to the backrest again but ends up audibly groaning when the bell rings. One glance at the key holder and he realises that you didn't take the extra house keys with you.

The bird flies away when Chrollo rises, his black shirt and trousers being synonymous to his mood. Slow, heavy steps take him to the door, and he opens it without bothering to check the peephole. He used En. He knows it's you.

The moment he locks eyes with you, colour returns to the apartment. The door is now painted pastel blue and a quick turn reveals the colourful flowers painted on the key holder and the soft blackberry curtains blowing with the wind. Chrollo turns back to you again, eyes falling to your smile and noticing your lipstick has almost disappeared. Grey eyes soften at the toothy grin as he gives space to allow you to enter.

Chrollo's eyes follow your movements. Those beige linen pants and burgundy drop shoulder shirt bitterly remind him of the pastel yellow sundress, mood instantly soured. A warm hand reaches for his hair as the door clicks shut, shoes forgotten somewhere nearby. What follows next is a chuckle and a soft palm petting down the mess of dark hair on Chrollo's head.

"You look like you're a mourning villain," you say, voice a melody to his ears.

"Maybe I am," he replies, eyes fixated on the collarbones peeking out from the open collar and framed with a heart shaped pendant. "How was brunch?" Voicing the question only serves to make Chrollo even more bitter, but he wouldn't tell you that.

"Awful! I now fear for my dear fiancé!" Your hand retreats, causing Chrollo to miss the warmth, and goes to undo the rest of the buttons. The cream coloured silk camisole underneath is revealed, but you continue speaking. "A few of them didn't even comment on my engagement!"

The bag hanging from your arm is promptly placed on the dark oak coffee table next to Chrollo's book, and you turn to him, a frown on your face. "I know some of them are snakes, but sheesh. I would have appreciated them faking their congratulations rather than ignoring it entirely."

Chrollo crosses his arms over his chest, sleeves already folded up till his elbows. "Afraid of the evil eye? If you are," he says, "you should know that someone's jealousy can never be stronger."

You raise a brow, hands already on your hips in that sassy fashion he adores. "And just what is stronger than their jealousy? Wait, what makes you think it's jealousy and not indifference?"

"They're simple minded," he shrugs. "I know how women like them think. They see another one happy and can't bear it."

"Amazing," you chuckle. "You just stated their entire modus operandi."

"I would suggest you get better friends. It's better to be alone than to be surrounded by people who only want to see you miserable."

You hum, moving closer and reaching for his hair again. Chrollo's eyes flit to the low neckline of the camisole before he regains his bearings with a cough. Your lips part to speak, that low voice making Chrollo inhale sharply to be able to remain civilised.

"You didn't answer my question."

The doe eyes you so adore on him make contact with yours. Innocence drips from his tone when he speaks. "What question are you referring to, dear?"

"Hm. I asked," you say, voice low and sultry while your finger traces his forearms, "just what is stronger than their jealousy?"

Chrollo hums, faking deep thought. He breaks eye contact and looks elsewhere as though pondering over your question, but ends up looking straight into your dilated pupils when he answers. "Do you not know?"

You shake your head.

"I was implying your possessiveness. You're quite scary when mad."

"Is that so?"

Chrollo merely smiles in response.

"Ah, alright then." You reach to kiss his cheek, an action Chrollo approves of wholeheartedly. "I was hoping you would say 'our love', but I suppose having the power in my hand is enough."

Bare skin is revealed as the shirt rides down your left shoulder. It takes carefully crafted nonchalance for Chrollo to not allow his eyes to greedily take in the sight, but the attempt fails when you discard the shirt entirely, leaving a mouth agape Chrollo standing in front of you.

You simply raise a brow. "What?"

"Darling," he croons, "I say this with the utmost respect. What the hell are you doing?"

"Taking off my shirt?" The mass of burgundy cloth is thrown over a shoulder. "I'm not naked. I'm wearing a camisole."

"Are you?" A hand reaches for your neck, cupping it as his thumb rubs circles on the delicate skin. "We're not married yet."

"And why are you mentioning that?"

His hand goes lower, thumb now moving over your collarbone and necklace. "I wonder why."

After a moment of silence, he speaks again. "If you're going to change, could you wear the yellow sundress I got you?"

You groan. "I told you already. I am not wearing that out. It's entirely backless!"

"I never said we're going out."

"Then…?"

Chrollo smiles, moving in to kiss your forehead. "Would you not indulge this poor man for once? I’d like to see the sun today, but the one in the sky is stubbornly hiding behind clouds."

"Goodness." A pout makes way to your face, the expression only serving to tempt Chrollo to pull your cheeks. "Keep your fetish away from me. I'm innocent."

He laughs, hand moving to your hip. "I'm afraid this is only the beginning."

The way you grumble your complaints further tempts him to grab your cheeks, but he lets you go. He'll be getting to see you in the dress after all.

#chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #hunter x hunter x reader #yandere hunter x reader #chrollo lucifer x reader

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vickyvicarious · 10 months

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Something I never noticed last year is how Dracula seems legitimately sad at the beginning of today's entry. Like, look at this:

I was awakened by the Count, who looked at me as grimly as a man can look as he said:— "To-morrow, my friend, we must part. You return to your beautiful England, I to some work which may have such an end that we may never meet. Your letter home has been despatched; to-morrow I shall not be here, but all shall be ready for your journey. In the morning come the Szgany, who have some labours of their own here, and also come some Slovaks. When they have gone, my carriage shall come for you, and shall bear you to the Borgo Pass to meet the diligence from Bukovina to Bistritz. But I am in hopes that I shall see more of you at Castle Dracula."

Dracula is "grim" when he says his farewells to Jonathan - very, judging by the rest of that line. He's enjoyed their time together and is sad that it has come to an end. He knows that they may never meet again... but he holds out hope that might not be the case. It reads to me like he hopes that the vampire ladies will choose to turn Jonathan into a vampire after he leaves and is hinting towards that, despite on the surface just telling mocking lies here. He's prepped them ("all shall be ready for your journey") and he knows they will come for Jonathan ("my carriage shall come for you"). But the vampire ladies have proven before that they don't always listen to what Dracula wants, and since he's put it off this long it's not like he can supervise the whole process himself (assuming it takes more than one bite/blood exchange/whatever). They could very well choose to just kill him rather than turn him.

That kind of substituted meaning for those specific lines may be a stretch, but certainly I think at least the sense of Dracula being put out to have to say goodbye is firmly there. But - luckily for Dracula - Jonathan (who is on the very last scrap of his patience) chooses that moment to push back, to outright ask to leave and say he wants to go right now. And Dracula gets a fun little idea.

"But I would walk with pleasure. I want to get away at once." He smiled, such a soft, smooth, diabolical smile that I knew there was some trick behind his smoothness.

Dracula gets to play one last game with his good friend Jonathan Harker! It may be the last day, but it's not all over yet! He gets to toy with him at least one last time! How delightful! No wonder he is suddenly anything but grim. Instead, he's dripping with charm:

The Count stood up, and said, with a sweet courtesy which made me rub my eyes, it seemed so real:

Dracula is fully pulled out of his funk by this opportunity to torment Jonathan in an extra-blatant way. Not only does he threaten him with the wolves he controls, but he pushes until Jonathan is forced to once again rely on him for safety. This entire bit is such a mockery:

I knew then that to struggle at the moment against the Count was useless. With such allies as these at his command, I could do nothing. But still the door continued slowly to open, and only the Count's body stood in the gap. Suddenly it struck me that this might be the moment and means of my doom; I was to be given to the wolves, and at my own instigation. There was a diabolical wickedness in the idea great enough for the Count,

Yeah. Dracula is the only thing standing between Jonathan and the wolves, literally! But of course he will respect his guest's wishes, so he won't stop opening the door, he'll keep going, he'll make him ask to stay...

By the end of that scene at the door he is fully cheered up, he is delighted, he's kissing his hand to Jonathan and promising (to the vampire ladies, but where Jonathan can hear) that tonight is his still and tomorrow they get their turn. He's ending this lovely visit on a very high note.

It's just. Brutal.

All the more so because Jonathan is so clearly at the very last fraying thread of his restraint, so the contrast between Dracula's initial disappointment shifting to burgeoning sick delight and Jonathan's seething hatred and fear and despair (and one brief moment of possible hope despite himself getting snuffed violently out)... it's super intense. Dracula gets to push him one last time, and Jonathan just barely holds back from outright throwing away the pretense altogether. It starts with his open anger and hatred in his diary at the sight of Dracula imitating him once again, nearly comes out when he insists that he wants to leave. And yet, he feels his own powerlessness as strongly as the rage, and in the end that fear and the understanding that pushing forward will only result in his certain death stops him. But in doing so, he feels complicit yet again, worse than ever before because he can see the way out and he has to refuse to take it, and Dracula gets to enjoy his anguish. Just like every other time before.

And it nearly breaks him this time. After he's forced once again to 'willingly' continue to stay in the castle Jonathan's mask finally breaks. He says he "covered my face with my hands to hide my tears of bitter disappointment." He started to cry. Not the first time by any means, but this time is right in front of Dracula. He held out so long but he just can't anymore.

No wonder they were both silent on the walk back to Jonathan's room. If they said anything at all, Jonathan couldn't possibly keep pretending, and then Dracula would have to kill him right away. He doesn't want that, not when he can enjoy this for a few hours more.

#dracula daily #count dracula #jonathan harker #jonathan hiding his tears by covering his face with his hands BREAKS MY HEART #what do you want to bet that dracula placed a 'comforting' arm around his shoulders while leading him back to his bedroom #ughhghghhg

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rreskk · 9 months

Note

Love your work and have been binge reading everything Trevor :3 just have to throw that out there <3

A request I have is having the reader being recruited for a heist because she’s ex military and knows how to drive or good with guns (no real preference tbh you can work whatever angle you’d like) and Michael and Trevor both petty fight over who gets to be with her but she ultimately chooses T?

Amazing idea! Thank you :)

Summary: A new job needed a new crew member. You had caught Trev's and Michael's attention strongly. But who do you pick?

TW: -Suggestive content (sexual)

Word count: 927

Pairings: Ex- military Fem!reader/Trevor Philips

“Ex military, huh? Well… I guess me and [l/n] already have a lot in common.”

Michael rolled his eyes at Trevor’s suggestive comment and slumped in his seat. He looked at the board, your picture pinned as a potential gunwoman for the next job. You were extremely attractive, and ex-military (which had caught Trevor’s attention the most). He liked a good, strong woman after all.

“She ain’t a discharged mentally ill pilot from the Canadian air force, you Loonie.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mikey.” Trevor growled, his anger being triggered by the mentions of his past failure. He still had his eyes set on your printed picture, desperate for your part in the team – talented or not.

Lester had mentioned beforehand that you’ll be arriving soon to discuss any further concerns. The both men were pouncing in their seats, the only difference being; Michael was more calm and collected while Trev… Well, Trevor was already groping himself at the thought of you.

“Jesus, can you stop? You’ll scare her off.” Disturbed, Mikey glared at his buddy who was self-relieving.

“She’s ex-military, cupcake. A gunwoman who can handle herself – “ He groaned, “Damn… When she’s comin’ Molester? I’m getting’ impatient.”

“She’ll come in her own time… Just… Keep your mouth closed, I’ll do the talking.” Lester responded as he began writing some extra information on the board.

“Booorrriinnngggg! Hey, I’m sure a lady like herself would need a man as… Wild as me.”

Michael nudged Trevor’s shoulder in attempts to shut him up. However, before Trevor could react, the door opened and you walked in.

All eyes were set on you.

“Hey, I hope I wasn’t too late.” Your voice endearing and pleasant. You smiled at them all, clearly balanced in your frame of mind. For a lady who shot enemies senselessly in the military for years and years, you were a gentle soul. There was a shy glimpse in your eyes, someone feeble but independent and strong-minded.

“Ah, [y/n],” Lester offered his hand and you shook it gracefully. He then motioned to the seat beside Trevor – “Please, sit.”

You didn’t notice the eager guy at first. Not until you sat down.

“Hey.” He’d grin.

Luckily Trevor had stopped his groping just before you made an appearance. He was manspreading in his seat, observing your body language and occasionally trying to take a small peek at your ass. His heart flustered when you made eye-contact. He saw the Devil in your eyes, even if it was hidden by the ray of rainbows and innocence. Trevor’s grin grew wider, knowing he’s sat next to a lady who has killed without shame, and for her country.

“Nice to meet you.” You smiled.

“Ohhh… The pleasure is all mine.” The seductive labour of his tongue had made you visibly aware of his intensions. Trevor smirked when you got the hang of it, and winked.

“Ah, excuse Trevor…” The man beside him spoke, smiling at you, “I’m Michael. You must be [y/n]?”

You nodded.

“We heard that you’re pretty good with the gun?” Michael asked.

“Oh, yeah. I was a marksman for some years. I know my way around a rifle and assault rifles quite well.”

Trevor grunted from beside you, finding the urge to touch himself again. The bulge in between his legs was growing with every word you said.

“Impressive. Me and Trev, we ain’t professional, but we easily could be – “

“Wait, wait! Hey, I am a professional. I was in the air force.” He winked at you.

“Yeah… was,” Michael scoffed, “Besides, I’m talkin’ about the military, dumbass.”

“Oh, the air force? That’s cool. A pilot?”

Trevor’s eyes lit up when you took interest in his past profession. He shuffled a bit closer to you and smirked.

“Indeed. A fuckin’ great pilot. I’m talkin’ jets and nuclear drops.”

“Oh, damn. That’s pretty awesome. I respect your service.”

“And… I respect yours, as well.” His voice getting lower and his sinister grin widening.

“Okay, enough. We got to work on this thing,” Lester pouched, pointing to the board – “Now, [y/n], you’ll have to either assist Michael or…” He looked at Trevor, who was staring, admiring your beauty, “So… Michael is working on the south access, sniper. It’s able to be a one-person job, but a little help would be efficient. But, uh, Trevor’s route is on the North. He’s got the more open position and will be using an assault rifle. Two gunners would also be good… Either way, your help is much needed.”

You listened closely then realised you had to pick your partner. Michael and Trevor began hoping, yearning for your answer. They both had their ears out in case you say their name.

“You mentioned two gunners would be good? I wouldn’t mind partnering with Trevor.”

The way he threw his hands up in the air with victory. You jumped, not preparing for his sudden outburst.

“YES! FUCKIN’ YES!”

Michael looked defeated and he rolled his eyes, refusing to look in your direction. He was bitter that his old pal had caught your attention the most; the psychotic, mommy-issued freak.

“Oh, sugar, I ain’t gonna let you down.” He’d giddily chuckle and lean into your shoulder.

“Alright, [y/n] and Trevor are together. The plan is… Essentially closed.” Announced Lester.

“Yeah, yeah… Whatever. I got shit to do.”

“Awww, don’t be such a bad loser, Mikey. I’ll be sure to tell you all about our fun when it’s over.” Trevor winked before throwing an arm around your shoulder, “Now… [l/n]. How’d you like the sound of T.P.I?”

#trevor philips #grand theft auto 5 #gta v #grand theft 5 #grand theft auto #gta 5 #trevor gta #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips/reader #trevor philips fanfiction #trevor philips headcanons #trevor philips/you #trevorphilips #grandtheftauto #grand theft auto v #my fanfiction #my fanfic writing #asks #requests

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miserableandmagical94 · 1 year

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A collection of the references to Satine Kryze in Star Wars media

Disclaimer: this is just the stuff I have consumed. If there is any more - especially canon material - reblog and add.

So, I have a lot of time on my hands, and I remember viewing this video on TikTok - please follow them if you have TikTok by the way. They have a point: why is Satine mentioned in the canon books but not in the TV shows outside Clone Wars or Rebels? I can forgive Obi-Wan Kenobi because there was a specific trauma that needed to be addressed for Obi-Wan (even though that man needed therapy from Phantom Menace). However, the Mandalorian - despite Bo-Katan being a main character - has not really spoken about Satine. I am hoping with season 3 there is an exploration of Bo’s backstory, but I think a key detail that has not been examined is that Satine’s murder was the cataclysmic event for why Mandalore is the way it is in 9ABY. I might be complaining before we have seen the seires, but there is no way Satine can be glossed over again.

Anyway rant over. In the interest of fun, here is a chronogical list of Satine references and appearences.

Firstly, we have Padawan by Kiersten White. By this point Obi-Wan and Satine have not met, and it take place when Obi-Wan is 16 (this also discredits the Mandlorian Civil War taking place in 42BBY). Obi-Wan is going through his Mirrorball phase, decides to go AWOL and discovers group of Force Sensitive children on a planet. In one conversation, Obi-Wan says:

“I would neer want to be in a relationship with a leader. Too close to politicians or royality. I’m sure if I ever fell in love, it would be with someone calm. Peaceful. Easy to get along with.” (p.173)

Obviously not a direct reference since Obi-Wan has not met Satine, but it’s still a reference so I am counting it.

So we now get to the Year on the Run novel

Oh yes. There isn’t one.

Okay, so the next reference comes in Queen’s Peril by E.K. Johnston, which is set in 32BBY (for reference, the events are set before and work in parallel with PM). Obi-Wan is looking over some files when Qui-Gon strikes a conversation. It ends with this:

“At least that means we’ll be less likely to get involved in local labour disputes,” Obi-Wan said.

“Or kick-start unlikely romances with local nobility.” (p.48)

Honestly, this makes me laugh so much because Qui-Gon clearly knew that Obi-Wan and Satine had fallen in love and more than likely had some sort of relationship in that year. Either Qui-Gon roasts Obi-Wan constantly about this, or he has been wanting to spring this on his Padawan.

Moving forward ten years, we have Brotherhood by Mike Chen. This is where most of the references appear so I will not list every example. The Clone Wars has broken out, Obi-Wan has pretty much found out about Anakin and Padme becasue they’re about as subtle as a bantha in an antique shop. We do find out some key things:

Satine is where Obi-Wan gained the nickname Ben (I guess we can call it a tiny reference in OWK)

Obi-Wan has not seen Satine’s face in about fifteen years, only reading the Holonews to know she is okay.

We also find out that Satine is declaring a neutral position in the war from the outset.

Obi-Wan ponders whether the galaxy would be as it is had he and Satine ran off together - as in they had a quiet life away from Jedi and politics.

From this, we see that Obi-Wan is working through those feelings he had and clearly some still linger.

Which leads us very nicely into Satine’s appearences in The Clone Wars.

Season 2: Obi-Wan and Satine meet each other for the first time in well over a decade, and it’s clear the feelings have not completely gone. Obi-Wan is all puppy eyes, their banter is practically flirtation, and they have these moments where they touch ever so gently. We get a lot about Satine’s character from these three episodes. We know she has spent the last fifteen years aiding the recovery of Mandalore and it’s working. She does not have time to be interfering in everyone else’s mess. She’s still in love with Obi-Wan. Above all, she hates injustice.

Season 3: Padme goes to Mandalore (yes we love to see it) and corruption is uncovered in Satine’s own government and she deals with it. We also meet Korkie, her nephew who raises more questions than he should do but given he has just disappeared off the face of the galaxy I am not going to labour this point.

Season 4: Satine has a brief cameo at Obi-Wan’s ‘funeral’. I have no doubt she was fuming after he comes back from the dead.

Season 5: Oh boy. So Maul because he is a petty bitch decides he is going to align with Death Watch and take over Mandalore. Satine is deposed and thrown in jail. Satine is then used as a pawn to bring Obi-Wan into the trap and she is killed.

The Lawless is adapted into Kenobi’s Shadow in Stories of Light and Dark where we get this quote:

This is also where Bo-Katan is introduced having done a heel-face turn from Death Watch. I have a lot of feelings on Bo-Katan but I am going to wait until season 3 of Mando is done before I can articulate them.

‘He’d extinguished a light in the universe and replaced it with shadow. (p.323)

Okay, season 6: During the Clovis arc, Obi-Wan tries to warn Anakin about his growing jealousy about Padme working with Clovis. We get a little empathetic moment where Obi-Wan says he gets it - he had feelings for Satine.

Okay season 7: Siege of Mandalore arc, Bo-Katan demonstrates her anger about Maul killing Satine and slightly guilt trips Obi-Wan into finding a way to help her get Mandalore back.

Clearly a lot of shit went down during the Empire period with Mandalore.

So moving on to 9BBY and I am going to throw this in as an honourable mention as some people have inferred that Obi-Wan was speaking about Satine:

Leia: Is it that hard to believe you might have friends? Look, since I met you, I've been chased, shot at, I almost fell to my death, and now there are Inquisiting people after us. If somebody is offering us help, I think we should take it. Now, come on. [pause] What now?

Obi-Wan: Nothing, you just remind me of someone. She was fearless, too. And stubborn.

Leia: I'm not stubborn.

Obi-Wan: Yes, you are.

Leia: I'm not! Was your friend a Jedi, too?

Obi-Wan: No, she was a leader. She died a long time ago.

Leia: I'm... I'm sorry.

Obi-Wan: Me, too.

I think it’s clearly about Padme but I will take the Satine inference if it means we actually had a reference in OWK. Also side note, Leia’s blaster is called Satine’s Lament. I am not sure how to feel about that one.

Now we come to Rebels and in season 4 (set 1BBY) , Bo-Katan helps out the Ghost Crew and we find out Sabine named a weapon she created The Duchess. We do see Bo-Katan declared leader of Mandalore which begs the question as to what the fuck happened in the next five years.

Finally, we have ‘Master and Apprentice’ by Claudia Grey in From a Certain Point of View and I think I need to finish that bottle of Japanese gin I have:

‘Every person Obi-Wan ever truly loved - Anakin, Satine, Padme and Qui-Gon himself - came to a terrible end.’

And on that cheerful note, that is all the canon references I can recall about Satine Kryze. Let’s just hope Mando 3 gives us some more crumbs and we get a book about what happened in that year on the run.

As metioned above, if there is anything I have missed please reblog and include it.

#satine kryze #star wars #i'm going to lie down

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gatheringfiki · 4 months

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GatheringFiKi Interest Survey 2023 - Results

Hi folks,

First of all, huge thank you to those who took the time to fill in our recent survey. We have now reviewed the results and have a couple of points we’d like to share.

1) The Headcount:

The first, biggest and most welcome surprise from the Survey is that there are so MANY of you! And most of you are new faces, which I think is just wonderful! Welcome, welcome, one and all!

The total of 23 people took part in the Survey (admittedly some of whom I have never seen take part in any events, but I have high hopes).

When I was leaving for my travels in September 2022, a similar Interest Survey presented a bleak picture, very different to today, with a number of people having clearly moved on (though not all!). Personally, I think it was the right call to accept and acknowledge that, re-subscribe those truly interested today, and re-focus my efforts and events targetting where it's actually wanted.

Please remember that if you ARE interested in taking part in our events, you can always ask to have personal notifications delivered to you whenever one is running - just message @linane-art

Of course, I am fully aware and very grateful that, apart from the folks taking part, there are also quite a few of you who consume the new content, read, watch, like, comment, reblog or just silently marvel and enjoy their (guilty?) pleasure. I love and appreciate you all.

2) Your Favourite Existing Events:

12 Days of Christmas - 18 votes

FiKi Week - 14 votes

Trick or Treat - 12 votes

Drabble Challenges - 11 votes

Durin's Day Gift Exchange - 11 votes

Kink Bingo - 9 votes

H/C Bingo - 8 votes

AUpocalypse - 7 votes

Fandom Raffle Exchange - 5 votes

Show Some Love - 5 votes

Fic of a Fic - 4 votes

Fanfic Rec Bingo - 2 votes

Secret Admirers - 1 vote

Round Robins - 0 votes

No surprises near the top: 12 Days has just ran and is beloved by everyone and FiKi Week is like THE Gatheringfiki event.

Trick or Treat also ran recently, but I think you also have a particular penchant for everything spooky/autumny.

Drabble Challenges are quick and easy, and I think a natural choice for a 'top up' event next to the big ones. I wonder if those of you who haven't experienced the speed and the 'write off all your other weekend plans'-ness of this event will think of it. :D

DDGE surprises a little, because it's a big commitment of an event, but I guess maybe because we're not running the Raffle regularly any more, and it's a similar enough thing? Or like a Big Bang? And there's nothing else that promotes actual collaborations. Intriguing.

The Bingos - always heat up the temperature in the room. I think those of you who want them, want them like burning. I also think (looking at hit counts), that there are also many more of you who, ah, enjoy the fruits of our labours, but like... anonymously and silently :D So long as those are not ran too often, I think they're a blast, and it's been 2 years.

AUpocalypse juuuust about makes it, but I think it has a special place, as it's the one event where artists can participate easily and have a fully free reign of what they create.

Please remember that if you are an artist and you're not sure how you can take part, we have this here handy guide for you.

Raffle is probably too big for the headcount we have, rec-type-events have not been popular for a few years now, Secret Admirers still out of favour (why???) and nobody liked Round Robins - fair enough.

3) Other Comments we got / possible New Events:

'A Dead Dove Event' - what is it, I've never comes accross it? Please message me on priv ;)

'Bring-A-Friend Event' - The incest thing will make some people uncomfortable, and those that check us out 'as a courtesy' are unlikely to actually get hooked. I think, by all means, spread the word if you know folks who might enjoy our fandom, but mostly it needs to be discovered on your own. Awareness of GF is the key.

'FiKi Bingo' - We already run 2 bingo-type events and a FiKi Week. I think that ticks both the desired format and desired content boxes.

'Valentine's Day Event' - there is nothing like that per se, but it is no coincidence that the Kink and H/C Bingos usually run around the time when everyone is feeling loved-up ;)

'I don't feel comfortable sharing my own content' - that is perfectly okay and your own choice. Nobody is going to try and push you. But I will say that if you have a supportive fandom, feedback can do wonders for your self-esteem and practice makes perfect. Otherwise, thank you just as much for your silent support.

'Discord Server' - I thought about it, but I think it'll be more of a problem than help. I don't know how to set it up, don't have the capacity to moderate it, only some people would be interested and many people will resist change. We've always said that Tumblr is our native platform and on Tumblr we will remain - don't want to dilute the fandom accorss multiple platforms, sorry.

'October Advent Calendar' - I'm sorry, I don't quite see how it would be different/better than Trick or Treat, except longer? Plus, 12 Days, which runs right after, has that element of 'something new to discover' every day ;)

'FiKi Mad Libs and Frankenstory' - see: Round Robins Event. And it scored 0 points, the poor thing :(

'Visual / phrase / poem / porny inspiration' - visual is addressed by 12 Days. Phrase/poem will be addressed by FiKi Week ;) Porny will be blocked by Tumblr :(

'Reblog-focussed Events' - Yes, agreed, but in the competition for calendar availability, all our rec-type events consistently lose out to out content-creating events. So we resort to caveating all our summary posts with pleas for reblogging and commenting. :/

I also wanted to take this opportunity to thank everyone for the wonderful and humbling words of encouragement I’ve received. I do what I do because of the people in this fandom and I will continue doing so for as long as there is interest in it. It’s what being in a fandom means to me, and hopefully it inspires some of you too :)

A Calendar of Events for 2024 will follow in a separate post.

Wishing you all a cracking New Year, filled with inspiration, joy, passion and feels, hopefully all whipped up by those problematic 2 little a$$holes...

~gatheringfiki

#Fili/Kili #FiKi #Durincest #the Hobbit #Mitchers #Britchell #DarkHawk #GatheringFiKi #Interest Survey

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oleworm · 4 months

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@girlmaturin tagged me! What were my six favourite books of 2023?

This is going to be a difficult one. First of all because I appreciate books for different reasons, it can be because I learned a lot, because it made me think about new things even though (or because of the fact) that it made me uncomfortable, or simply because it fits my aesthetic or thematic tastes. It wouldn’t be fair to pit completely different books against each other, but I’ll try to do what I can!

There’s also the fact that this is the year that I’ve read the most books in my life since I started counting them. Maybe not 100 but 96! You can laugh at me, but to be fair a lot of these were short books, or essays or short stories that I saved as an e-book and counted independently. I’ve been reading a lot of older books that I had at home or bought secondhand and it really makes me think that contemporary books are so big! It used to be normal to find lots of books that were 100-190 pages long about a specific topic or just because the author wanted to type out their thoughts. I don’t know how much the cost of publishing has increased, but it seems as if every book has to be definitive and huge in order to justify the expense.

1) The Fall of the House of Usher by Edgar Allan Poe

I’m counting this as a book since I found it as an e-book on Project Gutenberg. I was a child the first time that I read it, so a lot of the implications went over my head. This time around I was fascinated by how it synthesises the ideas of the epoch—the insularity of the upper classes in a time of increased social mobility (Poe was, after all, an American) countered with eugenic fears of fixing unfavourable traits into a bloodline through repeated inbreeding. It’s fascinating that the text lays it out so clearly. There’s this line that stuck to me, about how the house of Usher never allowed any branches to grow too far from the trunk of the tree, and then there was this part when Roderick Usher describes the psychological traits that afflict the family—I say afflict because they are disturbing to him—not as a result of the circumstances of their lives, but a part of their inborn nature. It brought to mind the way that Vincent van Gogh described his depression to his brother, who also suffered from it. “The root of the evil lies in the constitution,” that is how I remember it, though I could be wrong because it was in translation and it has been quite a while since I read about the subject. It reminded me of that, and how people describe dogs with behavioural issues caused by poor breeding.

Anyway, a little insect encased in amber for the neuroses of an age!

2) The Silver Metal Lover by Tanith Lee

A sheltered girl falls in love with a realistic robot—you would expect a pulpy romance novel but this was so much more than that to me.

It’s a story about a girl that has been sheltered all her life and does not realise that she is being abused by her mother, who controls every aspect of her life by making her feel that she is too innocent, too stupid to make a choice even with such personal things as her interests or her physical appearance. There were some mean-spirited interpretations of this little book, calling it a poor littlen rich girl story. But rich girls can cry too!

But besides, the heart of the situation, beyond all the fantastic, futuristic aspects, is one that can happen to anyone, regardless of their socioeconomic background.

One thing that I like very much about Tanith Lee is her ability to join different genres and settings. For example, in this one she described economic inequality and labour issues caused by automatisation and at the same time had the socialite characters talk in a droll, misogynistic manner that is right out of Saki. But writing this review I realise that these are not elements that are discordant with each other, though superficially they appear to be. Of the popular writers I have read she is one of those who best understands that the long 19th century may well be even longer—ha-ha, historians, don’t kill me!

I found it funny to be reading this book at the height of the AI-debate, as one of its main plot points was the fear that artists had of being replaced by machines that could “create” new and better works from the wealth of artworks that had been made by human artists before. I’ll probably remember that, if I live long enough to see what happens later.

3) Light in Gaza: Writings Born of Fire, edited by Jehad Abusalim, Jennifer Bing, and Mike Merryman-Lotze

Before this year I hadn’t read any books by Palestinian authors, so when I saw that this book was being shared freely and that it had some names that I already recognised I thought it would be a good place to start.

The fact that so many people contributed to it was the main reason that I chose it, there are so many different points of view, everyone emphasises a different part of life in Gaza, their experiences with their family, their work, their fields of expertise. There’s university professor who describes not only the subject matter of his lessons, but also the difficulties faced by students whose classrooms and study materials can be destroyed at any moment. The architect talks about the settlement pattern in Gaza, and how families prefer to construct their own homes in a way that the extended family may continue to reside together, though logistically it is not always possible to do so. The student provides a narrative of her daily routine, and how everyone must plan their day around the water and electricity shortages, and what difficulties this presents to cooking, cleaning and studying, activities that a lot of us take for granted. Most of the writers talk about the anger and frustration of having to deal with borders and checkpoints, the separation of family and friends for years and decades at a time across relatively short distances in the Palestinian Territories, in Israel and neighbouring countries, as well as the loss of opportunities abroad when people are impeded from leaving or fear that they might be prevented from returning.

Somebody said that it wasn’t right that Palestinians should always have to humanise themselves to the eyes of foreigners, hoping that we might care. I agree, because it is true that we should care for other human beings without having every detail of their suffering described to us. This book has sad parts, parts that are extremely frustrating, but it has moments of fun and happiness too. And the authors wanted people to read it and remember, and I want you to read it too.

The publisher has shared it for free download here.

4) When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb

I listened to the audiobook for this one on the Platform Formerly Known as Scribd and have ordered a physical version to have at home. I was so sad when it ended!

I loved reading about Little Ash and Uriel, a Jewish demon and angel who leave their shtetl when one of the girls from the village goes missing on her way to America. The research that went into it made me want to read more about the historical period in which it was set, and it didn’t stay a resolution—I did end up reading a book about Jewish life in the Russian Empire!

As an immigration story, it made sense that one of the tensest moments in the book was the medical examination by the immigration officials—sadly, in many countries the discrimination of sick and disabled people is still a real problem, though I hope that it will change in our lifetimes, as it did with racial quotas. It’s sold as a Young Adult book but adults would enjoy it too, as it deals with complex issues in an accessible manner but without leaving them flattened.

5) The Idiot by Elif Batuman

As a reader of Russian literature I’m surprised that I didn’t find this book earlier! It was really funny and cute and you could tell how young Selin was supposed to be in this story. Like when she imagines her crush to be like a love interest in a Russian book even though they’re in the 20th century and he’s a completely different type of Eastern European just because his name is very similar to Ivan! There’s a very funny scene also where she talks with a psychologist about her mostly online relationship with this person and he says “Hm… He reminds me of the Unabomber,” and she gets all defensive about it because there is a kernel of truth to it, he is posing as this edgy intellectual and she does not truly know who he is outside these characters they have created in their epistolary world.

I love the way Selin talks about her friends and the books she reads, Elif Batuman really captured what it’s like to be that age, and it was refreshing to read a book about a girl where horrible things don’t happen to her and she can continue learning and being herself.

6) El miedo en el Peru, siglos XVI al XX, edited by Claudia Rosas Lauro

A series of academic articles about fear in Peru in the 16th to 20th centuries. What people were afraid of and what were the social, cultural, religious and political reasons that they might be afraid of a particular thing.

I am adding this to the list because of one specific article—it is introduced as being about the fear of one’s parents, but in particular it talks about a number of legal cases where people were attempting to leave monastic orders claiming to have been made to join under duress—either because they were underage at the time of their vows, or because they had been threatened with physical violence by their relatives, often their parents. I found it interesting, there is a clear parallel between being forced to join a monastic order and entering an unwanted marriage. The arguments that can be used are the same, that the person was too young to meaningfully consent, or only accepted to preserve a degree of bodily integrity. Many of these victims had been threatened, even with death, because the parents wished for their properties to pass on to another one of their relatives. Having taken a vow of poverty, a monk would no longer be entitled to it. It also happened sometimes that these young men would join a monastic order to escape violence in the home. There were other cases where it wasn’t a relative, but rather a priest or another religious authority that convinced a young person that he should take monastic vows, while being too young to understand them or not having received a proper explanation of the terms.

There were other cool articles, such as the one where the fear of piracy overlapped with the fear of heresy because most of the pirates that accosted the Spanish Empire were Protestants from Great Britain or the Netherlands, or the one about the people who chose or were made to starve to death under siege because of Royalist propaganda about the Republican army’s brutality.

This came out rather long… Because I haven’t been typing it directly on the computer where there are so many distractions. I ordered myself an AlphaSmart 3000 over the holidays, it’s an electronic typewriter that you can plug into your computer to transfer what you’ve written before. It’s very pleasant to type in, and it’s also satisfying to see how the letters appear on the word processor when the device transfers the text, it emulates a keyboard so it looks as if it were typing in real time. Don’t worry, I’m not being paid to advertise for a company that no longer exists. If people with similar tastes to mine found it fun or useful I thought I may as well try it out. So far I’ve written a story on this and half-way typed up a draft of a much longer one. Just make sure that if you use different languages on your computer that it’s configured to the English keyboard when you transfer text, otherwise strange symbols may appear!

I’m tagging @bacchanalium, @sifilide, @tetrachromate, @osmanthusoolong, @bogfox and @sherbertilluminated if they want to!

#ole blog #tag games

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tatiejosie · 11 months

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28 for Bella

ohohhhhh boy thank u for asking!!!!!

28. Top ten things that you love about your blorbo

• She's so pretty uwu <3 Her heterochromia is a really cool touch to her character design, and I love the punk 90s milf look. I'm using this opportunity to point out that Bella is unusually tall for a woman, but you can rarely notice it because Mandrake is the main Tall Bitch of the film, and there are few other adult humans to compare. I also very much enjoy her looks because she is Very Shaped and as much as I'm looking respectfully, I am most certainly still Looking. She's making it very hard not to look. [The film also never uses her looks to demean her character, but that's just Ghibli for you. Respect women juice has been dranken]

• She shamelessly reclaims her unusual appearance. Messy blue hair, mismatched eyes, pointy nose, massive stature and you won't see a hint of insecurity in this woman. She's glamorous and happily high-maintenance (wears makeup everyday, sharp manicured nails, hair-curlers routine), straying out of mainstream beauty standards whenever she feels like it (vibrant makeup colours, mismatched eyeshadow, bright high-heeled boots, skull earrings). Note the high contrast between the orphanage's matron and Bella. That woman sticks out like a sore thumb but she's oozing with confidence.

• She's not afraid of dirty labour and gross things. Look at her holding the damn slug with her bare hands and putting her entire arm into the gross gunk of her table without an ounce of disgust. She's not some dainty wimp who's afraid of chipping her perfectly manicured nails on the carcass of a roadkill. She's part of the primordial soup and she has no fucks to give.

• She is SO capable and versatile. Non-gentle reminder that Bella Yaga has been single-handedly managing the household; daily chores such as laundry, shopping, cooking (the artbook states that Bella is a great cook), probably cleaning to a certain extent; working on magic and the chores that come with it, foraging and gathering plants, processing the raw materials, preparing the spells and potions; and managing her spell business while maintaining her clientele and deliveries? And that's just the chores thing, but there's the whole bookkeeping aspect of maintaining the household and her business. Clearly Mandrake uses the demons card for any possible task, but she cannot do that, and the end credits show that Mandrake is only starting to learn how to cook! Bella is also the one who drives the car, and she seems to have the skills to repair it as well according to the credits. So yeah TLDR Bella is the housewife, the breadwinner, the Mom Friend, the Beer Dad, the Vodka Aunt, and the most reliable person of the house. We love a multitasking queen

• She's hot-headed and seemingly immune to bullshit - you're not getting away with being a treacherous little bitch without experiencing the Smack Of The Century. She also doesn't seem to be receptive to Earwig's manipulative ass trying to sweet-talk her way into practicing magic; I'm on the fence about the morality of Earwig's controlling behaviour so it's nice to have at least one character who doesn't fall for her bullshit.

• She's officially described as a skilled magician, even to demon standards! She has a whole ass notebook with hand-written spells that she probably crafted herself. And considering that the book looks childishly girly and worn-out, we can assume that she started writing in this notebook when she was a child.

• She's considerate and emotionally intelligent enough to live with and manage an unstable demon. Idk if that really counts as a quality because that's very much a fear response from abusive behaviour but hey, Mandrake loses his shit very easily and she's able to interact with him on a daily basis without dying so that's pretty girlbossy in my book. She seems supportive of him and obviously cares for him and his comfort, even if he's difficult. [Note that in the book, she does fight back when Mandrake assaults her]

• She's one of the queerest characters of the Ghibli pantheon. Excentric and glamorous, skilled beyond classic gender roles. She was ambiguously involved with Earwig's mother and Mandrake. Her husband is the twink of all times. She's the gruff drummer who starts the bar fight and WINS the bar fight, she's the blunt auntie who shittalks your parents with her cigarette hanging off her lip.

• She's a professional drummer and Mandrake thinks she's really skilled. Drumming takes a highly efficient coordination and an incredible sense of rhythm. Drummers are human metronomes with the stamina of a beast - they're the backbone of their band along with the bassist and yet they're always placed in the back of the stage bc otherwise they'll be too noisy and drown out the rest of the band. Managing to be both the brawn who bangs like a caveman, and the galaxy brain who maintains the entire song's tempo. Drummers are the unsung heroes hidden in the dark, carrying the weight of the drumline. That's Bella Yaga for you. /lh

• She still gets flustered when she's shown affection. That's it that's the thing I can't be normal about

Thank you so much for allowing me to be cringe about this specific blorbo, I love Bella very much and I feel that she deserves more love <3

#if anyone manages to read the whole thing im kissing you #earwig and the witch #bella yaga #.bella #ghibli

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heliacalxrising · 28 days

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QUESTIONS & ANSWERS જ⁀➴

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?

Oh I always tend to gravitate towards clearly neurospicy men with simping tendencies.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?

There is very little I wouldn't write, but that's because dark content has helped me process my own trauma and anger issues, all with the blessings of a psychiatrist I was seeing at the time when I turned to fiction as catharsis.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?

Oh I'm just a slut for angst/whump. But I also love fluff and romance.

ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?

Much like Athena popping out of Zeus' head fully formed, some of my headcanons spring forward the same way. Other times, I'm inspired by fanfics or other shows I've watched. Sometimes they come to me when I'm plotting stuff with mutuals.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?

Oh fuck, I need noise. I'm such an ADHD case, if there's silence, I can't focus.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?

I mostly wing them, but there's nothing wrong with plotting, especially if the thread is one of those "spanning weeks/months" kind of storylines. Sometimes it's just nice to know what the end goal is. Sometimes it's fun seeing what I can come up with off the top of my head.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?

I am the captain of a full armada. The joys of multishipping mean I don't get involved in ship wars, I just hoard them, like a dragon hoards their riches.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?

Hardy! I also go by Bambi, courtesy of my boyfriend hehe

ᴀɢᴇ?

Late twenties

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?

May 3rd

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?

Black, rose red, pink, dark foresty greens

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?

You can't expect me to choose, I have so many songs in my Amazon library. Kind of obsessed with Noah Kahan tho...

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Poor Things. I swear to fuck, I thought I was having a fever dream. I couldn't even turn it off, I was too bamboozled.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Ghost Adventures. I see you judging me. Stop it.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?

Labour (The Cacophony) by Paris Paloma

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?

Kraft Spirals Macaroni and Cheese. Yes, it has to be spirals.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?

Fall! I love when it gets chilly. Perfect hoodie weather.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?

Does my boyfriend count? @minxchester

Swiped from: @taleswritten Tagging: Whoever wants to!

#ooc;;#dash games;;

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quietwingsinthesky · 1 year

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See now you have me thinking about how Michael would be if Lucifer were pregnant with his baby. Because Lucifer bring knocked up with Sam's kid carries all these transgressions and the baby is Schrödinger's good, and pretty much everything you said, but his kid? His kid? Ignoring the fact that angels can't impregnate eachother in canon, Lucifer pregnant with Michael's child is a mindfuck for everyone involved because it means the whole world knows that Michael and Lucifer slept together, that Michael has either forgiven Lucifer or he took advantage of their messed up relationship and Lucifer's messed up view of him and now their this. Now there's something that binds them and he's going to have to be there and he's going to have to confront all these feelings about Lucifer, and that's before we even get to the baby itself because Michael is like, you want me to be a father? To be the think that fucked me up? Because Michael's personality is Son and now he has to be a father and I don't think he could deal with that.

Also the whole seeing Lucifer in pain during labour thing is even worse because he is the one causing the pain. Ah guh I'm sorry this is insane

😫😫😫 oh and there’s literally no good time in canon for this to happen, either! Pre-Fall, some desperate plan of Michael’s to tie Lucifer to him and force him to stay in Heaven and not fight, or a rendezvous during the Apocalypse gone wrong that ends with Michael knowing Lucifer is having his kid while they’re counting down to the day Michael has to kill him, or even post-Apocalypse, in the cage or out of it, because how do they walk back hurting each other like that, even to give their child a good life?

(Poor kid, lmao. Imagine inheriting the trauma of these two losers. Literally hell.)

Ough, and Michael having to shift his POV from Son to Father, when his only real experience of having a dad is God and because it’s God, Michael can’t look at any other examples and place them above him, he’s got to be The Best Example Of Parenting, The One Who Got It Right, and so Michael’s going to emulate him, in all the good and bad. (Personally, I like to just. sweep later seasons Chuck to the side. I prefer the more complex interpretations of s5 or even I think it’s s10 or 11? Where he’s clearly Bad at everything, he’s clearly done Wrong in abandoning his kids/giving Lucifer the Mark/parentifying Michael while also chopping away his autonomy/etc, but he does love them. Because that always makes it more complicated to come to terms with a parent having hurt you, that they did it, and they loved you.)

And pulling that back around to Michael, he’s got two conflicting parts of himself when it would come to parenting. There’s the part that raised his little brothers, and the part that wants to be to his child what god was to him, without examining how bad that would actually go.

(Lucifer is doing the exact same thing here, but in reverse, he’s trying to Not be like his dad, but. He’s also got zero experience in parenting beyond like. Making demons. Who he then hated and abandoned. What’s it mean to strive not to be anything like your dad when you have a few good memories left, too? Which is to say Lucifer is simultaneously too attached (because he won’t even think about abandoning his child as he was abandoned) while also being kind of cold? (Because maybe that way if he does end up hurting them, it’ll be less painful, because they’ll love him less.))

#never apologize for brain worms <3 #spn #ask #lucifer spn #michifer #michael spn #tw pregnancy

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nisetsundere · 8 months

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I know you probably didn't think about it that deeply but prison abolition is a flawed aspiration. It's better that Trump is imprisoned. There's no societal reasons for why he's shitty, he's just like that. There's tons of other people who are also just shitty and deserve to be in prison, there's no hope for rehabilitating them, they have to do it themselves.

hi friend !

quite simply, we (here in America) need less people in prisons ! it's a system that is clearly biased against people that are poor and/or minorities, as well as people who need therapy and treatment. the reason is oftentimes for drug-related issues, whether actual or alleged (1 in 5 people). people can be waiting in prisons for ages before their trial, even if innocent. did you know there's around 44,000 people in California prisons/jails that have been there for over 3 years without having their trial ?? being in prison for any duration puts biases and limitations on you, often causing you to lose your job, make it harder to get a new one; you can fail to pay house and car payments, whether by inability to pay them during imprisonment or simply being unable to pay because you're not making money. they can't vote. while you're in prison you're often subjected to labour that is essentially modern slave labour. the conditions are also horrible, have you seen John Oliver's coverage of the heat and conditions of Texas prisons, for one small example ??

the current system is based on punishment, not recovery. the goal should be to deter future crimes and get someone back into society to function as a human being. as it stands, around 44% of people go back to prison within the first year of being out. this does not speak to a system designed to help people change and rejoin society.

people commit crimes, and while we can argue all day over whether and for how long they should be punished for, hopefully we can agree that they need help ? people don't magically reform themselves often, and surely not in that environment -- they need therapy, medication, outside help. there are people who should not be reintroduced to society, I can agree with that -- i'm not saying that all prisons and jails should open their doors and never function again. but people that commit minor offenses, people that are innocent and haven't faced their trial, people who need medication and therapy and have been struggling without, should not have to deal with this. it's so evidently a tool to repress, and that's without even reaching into the bag of worms that is the US police. "just don't do any crimes then" isn't good enough, I need you to think of how little it takes for a person to be falsely accused and spend years of their life in prison/jail before seeing a trial. prisoners are human beings.

and yes, I would love to see Trump spend some time in a cell. but he's white and rich (?) so I wouldn't count on it. it's not a tool designed to punish him.

#sorry I feel strongly about this #cracked out some links to hopefully show that i'm not crazy #uselesscookies #answer #mid-day posting

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batrogers · 5 months

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1, 12, 14 for the fic ask game :)

Answered for 14 already here.

#1 "Favourite Fic you Wrote this Year"

Really wish I could measure how many times I've reread my own to say, but tbh I think I'll have to go with "They Held the Sky Suspended" bc frankly that fic's gotten me the most attention and a new friend group all on its own.

It mostly came about by combining the fact that Spirit Tracks and Zelda 1 & 2 Link are so very neglected in the general fandom, as is seriously graphic dark fic. (Zelda fic dealing with dark *topics* abounds; Zelda fic that's *graphic* and dark does not as far as I've seen, especially in the smaller niches.)

(The close contenders were "The Prince of Hyrule" and "A Candle in the Darkness" but that's just bc my long fics are my adored pets. Technically I wrote the latter *last* year and only finished *posting* it this year.)

#12 "Favourite Character to Write About This Year"

The asker here is clearly biased LOL, bc I know your favourite is Chief (My AU's Spirit Tracks Link.) However, he has definitely featured in a vast majority of my recent fics. This is largely bc I think every single person I know adores Spirit Tracks or is absolutely in love with how I write him.

I know my take on Spirit Tracks Link is very sideways of the usual head canons, but as someone who's done that kind of industrial labour training picturing him as basically a trained EMT hit me and wouldn't go away. (If you have industrial first aid, and wilderness first aid, like, you're halfway to it and given the technology level of Zelda games that's probably as good or better than most doctors.) I love the options it opens up in terms of character interactions to have one (or more; looking at you, Skyloft knight academy....) properly trained medic in a cast!

Doing an actual count of what I wrote and published over the year, my versions of Spirit Tracks Link (Chief), Zelda 1 & 2 Link (Far), Ocarina of Time Link (Kokiri), and Hyrule Warriors Link (Prince) got the most "screen time." Partially this is because of that starting point, what people were most excited when hearing about it, and so on which really is the biggest thing.

Seriously, if you like something, tell the author! It really is the most inspiring thing you can do LOL.

#ask games #fanfic #my writing #Zelda fanfic #LOZ fanfic #Spirit Tracks

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the-annotated-antichrist · 1 year

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youtube

Act II, Track 06 - The Lions Roar

Song links: Spotify - YT Music - Apple - Tidal

In this broad, majestic track, we see the building master and his builders construct the temple-palace Seth has decided he wishes to reside in. It is clearly a labour of love - the builders speak of how they are "building hope for a future world", a beautiful palace with golden doors and glowing walls. This place is supposed to be an embodiment of the glorious destiny that Seth is leading humanity towards. The builders are glad that they get to participate and are doing their best.

I hear the rhythmic clanging of their hammers in the drum sound and the soaring vocals make me imagine the sheer size the building must have. The building master, by the way, is played by the same Kaj Hagstrand who already sang the role of the old president. It is not unusual for theater, musical or otherwise, that someone plays two roles, but if you're really attached to George Wyndham, then perhaps you will want to imagine that he has, somehow, found fulfillment in a new profession.

[Building master:] Towers that shall tremble not Will reach for heaven's hall And shall strike a chord within us Mighty calls that winds forgot Are the grace that's standing tall In the palace high for Caesar Seth [Builders:] Listen to the roaring voice, the sound of truth and stone When the sun comes up from another side of the moon We are building hope for a future world A temple full of stairs to a golden door where the lion's roar fills the air [Building master:] Gilded stars bid lovers wait Tomorrow they shall see what the shadows dark will bring us Glowing walls restoring faith All of which he's wisely sown And that safely he may call his own [Builders:] Listen to the roaring voice, the sound of truth and stone When the sun comes up from another side of the moon We are building hope for a future world A temple full of stairs to a golden door where the lion's roar fills the air Raising high Raising high Raising high Always Raising high - future tolling Raising high - angels calling Raising high - palace of dreams

I have noticed some contradictory information in the inlay and in interviews about BA concerning whether Seth is supposed to be "only" the leader of Europe or of the whole world. I choose to believe that it's only Europe for a variety of reasons. It would be very difficult for him to extend his rule to the whole world in such a short period of time, no matter whether he embarks on some kind of neo-colonialist venture or tries to convince the rest of the world with arguments to follow in Europe's footsteps. Vast parts of the world have adopted traditional modes of existence again - it would be very hard to contact all these scattered groups in a few months (in the Bible the Antichrist rules for less than four years), much less integrate them into Seth's system - provided they are even willing, which I would doubt. After the last millennium, there would probably be a very healthy skepticism about Europeans with visions of salvation and a better world among people on other continents. And then there's the whole religious angle of his reign, which non-Christians might have a hard time getting behind.

Why do I bring this up now? Because Seth is moving to Jerusalem, which would be at least at the very edge of his realm, provided the Eastern Mediterranean is somehow counted as belonging to Europe. There's a lot of religious symbolism involved in this move for the very Christian Europeans, but it's probably a bit impractical for the ruler to be so far away from most of his realm, especially since they probably don't have air travel unless a demon carries you on their back. It fits Seth's grandiosity though. What do supply chains and lines of communication matter when you are the divinely chosen salvation of the world? To Seth, living in a place with such huge religious importance would probably be more important than any practical considerations.

#tracks #act 2 #symphonic metal #therion #taaposts #opera #metal #kaj hagstrand #musical #musicals

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drivingsideways · 2 years

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i have distilled my negative feelings about ep 10 of EAW into a few things (tw rape/sexual assault)

The defendant wasn't just a "player", a "gigolo", a man who defrauded vulnerable women out of their money. He was a guy who specifically sought out women with disabilities, an entire class of people whom he describes as "soft and innocent". That seems either predatory or fetish-y to me.

He has no idea of consent, and perhaps specifically does not care about the consent of differently abled people. We know this from the get go because he refuses to address Woo Young-woo as "Attorney Woo" despite her repeatedly asking him to. He only finally listens to Su-yeon, when she shuts him down.

At no point in the proceedings is it disputed either by Shin Hye-young OR the defense that she said no at some point, and he then refused to stop, and said "it's not true love if you don't" and that's how that sexual encounter proceeds. This is a statement of fact, not feeling. It's a he said, she said, and apparently in this case they both agree on what was said. If that's the case, then, that's coercive rape, my friends. I don't know what the law in SK is re: this, but surely a "no" counts? (I didn't understand the term "quasi-rape" that was used in the translation, is that the same as coercive rape?)

When Woo Young-woo takes the case, Attorney Jung lays it out clearly- in sexual assault cases, you end up having to undermine the testimony of the survivor. The argument they choose is "She was in a romantic relationship and she didn't show any feelings of ill will or wanting to break it off with him after." Hoo boy. Writer nim, I know you know that sexual consent is situational. Romantic or marital relationships are not blanket consent. So the argument Hanbada is making, essentially, is that "her no didn't really mean no". Weirdly enough, that's exactly the argument that the prosecution is making- that you can't trust her words or her actions to mean what they say.

Shin Hye-yeon is very clear she doesn't want Jeong-il to be punished, but there is definitely an ambiguity about what she felt about the sexual encounter itself. And that's- perfectly valid! Perfectly normal. Don't many able bodied, neurotypical women have experiences that they write off as "bad sex", "just the way it is," or "he didn't know", or "he didn't mean it" all the way to "it's my fault really" and "we love each other". So when Woo Young Woo says, "You're an adult and the only person who can decide if you were assaulted or not is you", I absolutely get that and agree with it, because women should have control over how they frame their own lived experiences and what to do with them. But, in all the "consent is tricky" bit that was being pulled here, I would have liked some acknowledgement of the fact that our idea of consent is fundamentally warped by rape culture and misogyny, and that's true no matter whether you are neurodivergent or not. If the prosecution made one set of assumptions re: the situation, Woo Young Woo was eager to make another set of assumptions. Neither of the sides, in the end, actually listened to what Shin Hye-yeon wanted to say about her feelings, or even help her articulate them even to herself if it didn't fit the narrative they were building.

When the prosecution pulls out the "Ability to consent" card- which, I get was very much the point of this episode- instead of making a specious argument that blanket consent was present, I think the counter was to argue that if the State thinks that a 27 year old woman with an (alleged) developmental age of 13, is considered to have been competent enough to provide informed consent to working a job- physical and mental labour that we don't usually allow 13 year olds- then the State can't argue that she isn't able to provide consent in other situations just because of her disability. If she can consent to her body being used as labour, then she can damn well consent to it being used for pleasure. But this isn't the argument made, not even out of the court scenes by the writer. And believe me, I get it. Differently abled people are infantilized, and the fight against that has been an ongoing theme in the series. I know a large part of this episode is to parallel Woo Young-woo's burgeoning romance, and ableism that she and Jun-ho are subject to. I just think that conflating the "ability and right to love" with "the ability and right to provide informed consent to sex" and creating a sexual assault story line to go with it wasn't perhaps the best way to go about it. Yes, Shin Hye-yeon has the right to love a bad man; she isn't the first and won't be the last person to love a rapist. But when Woo Young Woo says "..even if I say it's love, if other people say it's not, then it's not", I was both sympathetic to the sentiment but also wildly in disagreement with how the argument to get to that line had been made in the previous fifty minutes.

#ok got that off my chest #now i shall go write fic

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demoniqt · 1 year

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I posted 347 times in 2022

43 posts created (12%)

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I tagged 164 of my posts in 2022

#demoniqt fics - 52 posts

#shen jiu - 39 posts

#svsss - 33 posts

#mdzs - 27 posts

#wangxian - 26 posts

#svsss fanfic - 25 posts

#svsss fanfiction - 23 posts

#qijiu - 22 posts

#mo dao zu shi - 22 posts

#wei wuxian - 21 posts

Longest Tag: 66 characters

#this is so scary though.... bro what if this happened to you......

My Top Posts in 2022:

Qijiu Week 2022

Day 3 - Hot Springs or Hidden Infatuation

Yue Qingyuan knew on an instinctive level that Shen Qingqiu would be considered a classic beauty, with his pale countenance, high cheekbones and phoenix eyes. It was something he marvelled at whenever he had the rare chance to enjoy a cup of tea with his acerbic childhood love.

Of course, Yue Qingyuan himself was no slouch. He was tall and built in a way that complimented Shen Qingqiu's slim figure. The Cang Qiong Sect Leader was used to fighting without his sword, so he had practice using his physical strength to his advantage.

In fact, the only other sect member that could fight on par with him in terms of physical cultivation would be none other than Liu-shidi.

Liu Qingge was also a widely-known beauty, even despite his brusque manner and blunt honesty.

"Why did you have to here!? Couldn't you have settled on the other side!?" Shen Qingqiu snarled, wiping the spray of hot spring water from his face.

Liu Qingge rolled his eyes, "It just water. Not acid. It won't ruin your pretty face."

"That's rich coming from you, pretty boy," returned the Qing Jing Peak Lord with a sneer.

Admirably, he restrained from returning the favour by splashing the Bai Zhan Peak Lord like the other man accidentally did when he slid into the pool. It was only because it was by accident that Shen Qingqiu didn't retaliate like he clearly wanted to.

Liu Qingge's face turned pink, perhaps from the heat of the spring they were all sitting in.

Yue Qingyuan sighed as Mu Qingfang slid into the pool beside him.

"This is a good idea to promote teamwork and camaraderie, zhangmen-shixiong," the Healer said with a sigh of appreciation.

"Yes," Wei Qingwei agreed, pouring a cup of wine for himself. Then he continued, "I only wish that we left those two behind."

As he spoke, Shen Qingqiu's patience finally broke and he swung a hand into the hot water, splashing an annoyed Liu Qingge in the face.

"You!"

Yue Qingyuan sighed again before getting up to stop the physical fight between the two most beautiful people in his life.

All he wanted was to enjoy the view. Was that too much to ask?

Oh, he also wanted his shidi all to get along but apparently, that was all just wishful thinking.

End Hot Spring and Hidden Infatuation

Notes:

YQY is a secret pervert. Hahaha.

19 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

Qijiu Week 2022

Day 2 - Fulfilling a Promise or Dragon AU

The water drips...

drips...

Shen Qingqiu had long since stopped counting the seconds that passed and had moved on to just waiting for his time to end.

The former lofty lord of Qing Jing Peak took a shaky breath through perforated lungs ruined by prolonged exposure to air saturated with acid and wished he could throw himself into the acid pond and end this miserable existence of his.

His remaining eye never left the dull broken shards scattered on the dirt even as his laboured breathing begin to petered out slower.

Qi-Ge...

Qi-Ge, this Xiao Jiu will join you soon.

The single emerald eye closed as the thought came to him and for the first time in his life, he was assured by the bleak future ahead.

This time, Xiao Jiu will forgive Qi-Ge.

Even if Qi-Ge didn't rescue Xiao Jiu...

At least you tried...

A gleam of light propelled him to open his eye again and standing before him is a familiar and beloved figure that reached out to him with one hand.

"Xiao Jiu," the apparation breathed, crystalline tears falling from his pale cheeks.

Shen Qingqiu gasped around a bloody mouth empty of a tongue.

You came back.

Qi-Ge came back.

And that was all that mattered.

End Fulfilling a Promise

22 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

The Hidden Flower (隐花) - Chapter 1 - demoniqt - 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù [Archive of Our Own]

Summary:

Shen Jiu returns to his time as a slave in the Qiu Estate after his second life as a pampered young master of a rich family in the modern world ends. He opts to NOPE out of the situation and gets the hell out of dodge. Then, he found a place of sanctuary and offers it to girls who are in need of one.

Suddenly, he's the Grandmaster of a hidden sect!

Then, Luo Binghe returns as well and decides to obsessively court him. For what? Revenge?

And Qi-ge... when did he become interested in getting hitched?

Liu Qingge! Stop leaving dead animals and beasts at the gate of his hidden sect! It's supposed to be hidden!

And what of the other Peak Lords? What is wrong with everyone!?

32 notes - Posted July 20, 2022

Jumping into the Mamajiu bandwagon late!

The Bamboo Child

His loneliness was overwhelming on nights he couldn't sleep.

His bamboo house was quiet and even the crickets outside had cease to sing, leaving nothing but white noise humming persistently in his ears. It drove him insane, left with nothing but his ever spiralling thoughts.

Normally, he valued his silence and solitude.

When he was a disciple, the sounds of breathing from other male disciples disconcerted him so he could only sleep in the wood shed. It also gave him the privacy and safety that he needed to ease his mind.

But after he became the Peak Lord, he was given his personal sanctuary in the form of his teacher's bamboo house.

But on some nights, the silence was so overwhelming, he'd be reminded of being locked in the wood shed of the Qiu Manor. It was stiffling and it would make him antsy, as if he was anticipating something terrible to happen.

He could go to the Red Pavilion to seek the companionship of his Jiejies but he'd just been recently reprimanded by Liu Qingge and Yue Qingyuan for it and he didn't feel like getting into another argument with those two idiots over this issue at a Peak Lord meeting when they had better things to do.

So on one lonely night, he left his bamboo house to take a walk amidst the bamboo forest at the back of Qing Jing Peak.

He'd walked this path a thousand times before, even as just a mere disciple. The familiar rustling of the leaves in the wind, the smell of the crisp air mixed with the scent of the bamboo helped settle his troubled mind and ease his anxiety.

Then a sound caught his attention and his ears perked.

There was a baby crying in his bamboo forest.

Shen Qingqiu followed the sound, trying to trace the source.

Did someone, a female disciple of his!?, give birth in the forest and abandoned their child?

He followed the sounds of the baby's wailing until he came to a huge bamboo stalk. Which was odd, because he was familiar with this forest and had never seen such a thick bamboo stalk the colour of jade before.

And the odder thing about it, was the glowing segment at nearly the base of the bamboo stalk.

It was where the sounds of the crying came from.

Without thinking, Shen Qingqiu swiped his fan against the bamboo segment, splitting it open. The huge stalk toppled backwards onto the ground, revealing its treasure within.

In the hollows of the bamboo segment, lay a small baby, crying and hiccuping pitifully. He was so tiny he could fit into Shen Qingqiu's palms.

The baby was curled up and shivering in the cold, so Shen Qingqiu shed his outer robe and folded it to swaddle the poor child, wrapping it warmly in the folds of the silk.

He carried the child home, singing to his bamboo child bestowed upon him by the full moon on his most loneliest night.

End Bamboo Child

Shud I continue this? How should I continue this? Reverse Harem? 🤔

63 notes - Posted December 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Qijiu Week 2022

Day 5 - Family or Farming AU

Summary:

Usually, it's Shen Jiu who returns to have a second chance in life. This time, a jaded Yue Qi returns to do over in this time travel remix.

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

Yue Qi wiped a hand over his forehead, looking up at the rising sun with his other hand resting on the hoe he was using to till the dirt. Soon, the sun will be up high on the sky, making it too hot to continue his farming.

To his annoyance, he spied a figure flying in the distance. First a dot in the blue sky and then coming close enough for Yue Qi to identify as Liu Qingge.

Before, he would never describe his ex-shidi as annoying, but recently, the younger man's existence was grating on him like a thorn to his side.

That man can be so persistent.

Yue Qi waited until Liu Qingge landed before speaking.

"Peak Lord Liu," he greeted, face unsmiling, quite unlike the Cang Qiong Sect Leader he'd once been in another life.

"Any change?" Liu Qingge asked, straight to the point as always.

"No," Yue Qi answered. "He still doesn't remember his life... from before."

Liu Qingge's fists tightened as he audibly grinded his teeth. Before he could storm toward the direction of Yue Qi's home, the farmer stepped forward to block off his access.

"Peak Lord Liu," Yue Qi said with a warning tone.

"Let me see him," Liu Qingge said through gritted teeth.

"No," Yue Qi replied, still unsmiling. "Leave him be."

"Let me talk to him. I'll remind him," Liu Qingge said, attempting to advance forward but his respect for his former sect leader prevented him from shoving the other man away.

"Remind him of what? How we abandoned him? How we ostracized him and abandoned him at the time he needed us the most?" Yue Qi uncharacteristically spat, anger thick in his voice. The memories of the past never ceased to provoke the normally placid farmer into a rage when he remembered how foolish he had been.

His hesitance and foolhardiness had cost him more than just his life, it had cost him Xiao Jiu. Lead to Xiao Jiu losing his cultivation, his reputation, his limbs, suffering for years before finally losing his life.

Yue Qi vowed never to make the same mistakes again. Even if that meant keeping Xiao Jiu away from Cang Qiong.

"Yue-zhangmen, we need the both of you in Cang Qiong. The war.." Liu Qingge started but was cut off by Yue Qi.

"No," he repeated. "You don't need us."

Then, before Liu Qingge could continue with his appeal, he continued sternly, "Or at the very least, we don't need any of you."

Liu Qingge swelled in anger and Yue Qi felt a sudden wave of self pride for being able to do what only Shen Qingqiu frequently managed to do in another life.

"The demons have taken Huanhua Palace," Liu Qingge gritted out, as if it was anything but good news. Yue Qi felt nothing but vindication at the thought of the Old Palace Master falling at the hand of Tianlang-jun. It would be karmic retribution for what he did to the demon Lord in their previous life.

"Cang Qiong is still fighting but we've lost our tactician-," Liu Qingge was once again interrupted.

"Xiao Jiu and I are unconcerned. We are not of Cang Qiong and not involved in the politics between sects, nor are we involved in the struggles between the demon world and this world," Yue Qi answered, picking up his hoe.

"It will concern you once the demons overwhelm us," Liu Qingge protested.

"The South demons are not interested in the subjugation of humankind," Yue Qi said with a certainty that made Liu Qingge immediately suspicious. "Tianlang-jun is only aiming to bring down Huanhua Palace but Cang Qiong and the other sects got involved needlessly."

See the full post

84 notes - Posted September 23, 2022

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