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loving-daisy · 3 years

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Cry For Me | George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist | Cry For Me Masterlist

Chapter 9 - Fool

Words: 6.8k

Warnings: nothing much; fluff and angst

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I made a fool of myself

____________________

Much to Y/N Icestone’s dismay, her request to Draco; Draco’s request to his father; Draco’s father’s request to Professor Snape didn’t last long. After the official split of the controversial Gryffindor-Slytherin couple, Y/N let all the emotions flow. Months of bottled-up feelings freely flowing.

Hatred, mostly.

The girl just couldn’t stand to see or even get a tiny little glimpse at the boy who captured her heart, held it carelessly, and smashed it into pieces. The mere thought of him even enraged her. Hating the fact that she was so gullible to believe that someone truly liked her because of her and her alone. Not the titles, the money, or the power that she came with.

But as the saying goes, when one door closes, another one opens. Sure, her relationship with the Weasley had a very unfortunate ending but at least another story went on - her friendship with Draco Malfoy. And Draco, being the good friend he is, decided to help her.

Even if all the blonde Slytherin did was send an owl to his father, it did help a lot, truly. 2 weeks being George-Weasley-free during potions class. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, as the individual potions’ work eventually dissolved as they had to work by pair again.

“This next potion you’re about to brew is much more difficult than the last.” Professor Snape informed the class. “Truth be told, I’d still prefer everyone to work individually.”

Honestly, there’s not a potion that Y/N Icestone can’t brew perfectly. Sure, there could be some difficult ones but the girl is always up for the challenge. Working alone versus working with a pair didn’t really have that much difference. She firmly believed that she’d do well even without a partner. I mean, the girl basically proved herself in the last 2 weeks.

“But due to a lot of errors and mishaps, I’m gonna allow you to work in pairs. Your partner will be your previous partner. Now, get to work!” Snape ordered with a scowl, grasping his black robes as he started to walk around the classroom.

I should’ve just asked my Father. Too bad he never got close with Snape. Too bad Draco’s not here. The Slytherin thought, letting out a huff before making her way towards her previous table - the one she shared with the boy she’s trying to avoid.

____________________

As the Slytherin sat on top of the stool beside the desk where their bubbling cauldron was placed, she couldn’t help but send a look towards Daphne who was putting ingredients into their cauldron.

Sensing Icestone’s look, Greengrass’ attention diverted to her best friend, raising a brow as if asking “what’s wrong?”. Y/N rested her elbow on top of the desk, placing her chin on her palm, pouting.

Daphne let out a small chuckle, shaking her head from left to right. But just before she was about to mouth a few sentences towards the sour-mood Icestone, the shocked look on her best friend’s face stopped her in her tracks.

Professor Snape immediately waltzes towards Icestone and Weasley’s shared desk, crossing his arms as he towered over the ginger with a scowl. “Mr. Weasley, I know that you have a knack for making stuff explode but for the love of Salazar, stop practicing the nonsense in this class. Have you not learned your lesson from the past week?” He let out, tone full of disappointment.

“As expected from a Gryffindor. You just lost your house 10 points.” Snape continued before reaching out for his wand, making the mess disappear.

“Detention, Mr. Weasley.” The potion’s master ordered before turning his heels to walk away.

Before the Slytherin was able to open her mouth and make a snide remark, Professor Snape looked back, eyes burning holes at the girl’s forehead. “You too, Ms. Icestone.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped in disbelief. It’s not like any of the mess was her fault. It was all Weasley’s! All she had to do was prepare all the ingredients and line them up in order for the ginger to put it in so what’s bubbling in the cauldron was definitely not under her control. The girl firmly believed that she should have gotten detention for actually doing her part right. “But professor-”

“Not another word.”

Great. So much for avoiding George Weasley.

____________________

Later that day, Y/N Icestone found herself walking out of the Great hall to go straight towards the dungeons. But not towards the Slytherin common room. Rather, towards the potion’s master’s classroom. To serve detention.

Truthfully, the girl didn’t know what it was like to serve detention under Snape’s name. Was it harsh like what other students claimed it to be or were people just over exaggerating?

But come to think of it, Y/N Icestone didn’t know what it was like to serve detention under any other professor’s name. She has never gotten herself into detention anyways. If it wasn’t for the Gryffindor, she wouldn’t have even been here. She would’ve kept her record clean!

Fortunately for the girl, Professor Snape’s favoritism towards the students under Slytherin was true. The reason? Well, the only reason why Icestone got detention is so that someone could keep an eye on every other pupil who got detention as they manually scrub all the dirty cauldrons. The potion’s professor simply told the girl that he had important business to attend to and so he’s entrusting detention towards her.

Additionally, he promised that Icestone’s record would still be clean and that he’s adding 10 points to Slytherin for the girl to help him. Unfortunately for the girl, no other pupil was serving detention under Snape but George Weasley himself.

Oh how Y/N Icestone wished that there was another unfortunate student who messed up in Snape’s class today.

25 minutes into detention, the Slytherin was starting to get bored. After all, she too wasn’t allowed to use her wand. But hers was kept inside her pocket either way; Kept inside her robes with the ginger’s.

But still, despite having the privilege of just sitting there and not scrubbing dirty cauldrons, her rage towards the ginger didn’t disappear. No matter what angle you look at it, she still wouldn’t be here if the Gryffindor didn’t mess up.

The Slytherin huffed in boredom, piercing her cold eyes towards the boy.

“I hope you’re aware of how much I despise you right now.” Y/N spat, deciding to break the silence inside the classroom.

“I’m sorry.” The ginger murmured, trying to scrub the cauldron he was holding a little faster. “I’ll try to work faster. There are about 12 cauldrons left.” George informed.

Y/N hatred flowed freely, yes. But no, it couldn’t last for so long. Not when George Weasley makes it so hard for her to hate him. Why was the boy so nice?

You look happier. She recalled. It was all bullsh-.

“What happened anyway? Didn’t I line up all the prepared ingredients for you on the table? Didn’t you follow what the book said?” The girl questioned, hoping to at least get a decent explanation from the ginger on why their potion was suddenly messed up.

The last time George messed up his potion was because of someone else tampering with it. But since the partner system in Snape’s class was administered again, Y/N doubted that it was another work of her housemate because even if George was their target, Y/N would be included in that target because they were...well, partners.

And the girl knew that no one dared to mess with her.

“I’m sorry.” George repeated. Refusing to look at the Slytherin, his attention was still mainly towards the cauldron.

This time, Icestone was now really annoyed. “Is ‘I’m sorry’ the only words you know how to speak of?” she grunted, rolling her eyes.

“Sorry-, I mean, I’ll do better in the future, I promise.” replied George.

“If there is a future.” The girl murmured, huffing.

The boy didn’t know what she meant but he decided to just ignore it and get to work.

____________________

“Where have you been?” The Malfoy heir questioned after standing from his seat to walk towards the Icestone heir.

“Draco? What are you still doing here? It’s late.” The girl pointed out, moving past the boy to sit on one of the leather couches located inside the common room.

“Hey, I asked you first!” The blonde complained, following the 6th year and sitting beside her.

By now, the cold room located under the black lake was quiet, seeing that it’s already late at night and there were classes tomorrow. The only people present were Icestone, Malfoy, a few students from year 7 studying, and the prefect who decided to stop by and organize the announcement board.

Y/N leaned her head on the seat, sighing before closing her eyes. “I was monitoring Professor Snape’s detention class.” She informed with annoyance not towards the blonde, but towards the task.

“You? Why you?” asked Draco.

The girl turned to face the curious boy, eyes staring at his confused ones. “Well, he did say that he had some important business to attend to.”

The blonde furrowed his brows, still not satisfied with the answer. “Okay, but why you? It could have been the prefect or whatever.”

The girl let out another sigh. “Because stupid George Weasley was my partner in potions and he messed up so Snape decided to include me in his suffering. Thankfully, I didn’t do any scrubbing. My nails would have sucked!”

“Partner?! I thought you guys worked individually now? Didn’t my father...”

“Yeah...but apparently, there are too many dunderheads in the class so…” The girl said, rolling her eyes before shrugging.

“Why’d you wait for me? Didn’t you say you had a test on Defense today?” She asked to divert the topic away.

“Well…”

“Yes?” Y/N urged, anticipating as she examined the boy’s look. Draco’s usually perfectly styled hair was no more as he wore his uniform trousers and a plain white shirt.

The Malfoy heir let out a small and shy smile. “I wanted to give you something.”

Icestone stood straight, both hands held out towards Malfoy as she waited for him to give her whatever it was that he was planning to give.

“Is it chocolate chip cookies? It better be chocolate chip cookies.” She commented with a grin, her eyes sparkling at the thought of her favorite sweet.

Draco chuckled at her actions. “Close your eyes.” He instructed before fetching the object inside his pocket.

Y/N felt the boy’s warm hands go over hers, feeling jewelry being put on her wrist. In the absence of the warm feeling of Draco’s hands, the girl opened her eyes, the grin on her face never faltering.

Taking a look at her right hand, there it was, clasped on top of the Slytherin’s wrist, a silver chain bracelet with diamonds and emeralds resting beside each other.

Her eyes made contact with the blonde’s gray ones, shock and slight confusion on her head. “What’s this? I don’t recall that it’s going to be my birthday soon.” She playfully asked.

Draco grinned, eyes turning towards his own wrist. “Do you like it? It’s a family heirloom but I had it customized to give it a little bit more style that suited both of us. Diamonds for Icestone and Emeralds for Malfoy.” Draco explained as he lifted his own wrist, a similar bracelet placed on top of it.

“Do I like it? No, I actually love it very much. It’s gorgeous.” Y/N stated, earning an even bigger grin from the blonde.

“Thank you, Draco.” the girl thanked, engulfing the blonde into a big hug.

Green apples and peppermint. That’s what Draco Malfoy smelled like. Y/N Icestone thought the scent made her feel nostalgic about her own childhood. After every tutoring session with Mr. Princeton, the fairy that she had back then would bring her some sliced green apples and tea. Specifically, it would be peppermint tea if it was the cold season.

The girl didn’t know why she suddenly thought of her childhood. Maybe it was because of the way things are now. Maybe it was because she wanted to go back to the old days. Maybe it was because the boy on her arms made her day 100% better or maybe it was a sign. She is yet to find out.

“So, where’s my chocolate chip cookies?”

____________________

Oh, thank Draco Lucius Malfoy for making THAT one day a little bit better.

Ever since last week’s potions class and the detention that followed, the days passed by quickly. Sure, there was still a little tension whenever Gryffindor and Slytherin shared classes but slowly and surely, Y/N Icestone was starting to let go of it.

There’s no point in dwelling in the past. Lixie once told her. Additionally, her hatred doesn’t even last long. Not when the ginger makes it so hard. Hatred will bring you nothing, anyways.

It’s been two months since the Icestone heir sent that enchanted letter declaring how she was the one playing with the ginger. Meaning, two whole months have passed ever since the controversial couple split up.

Truthfully, the time the Slytherin spent thinking about where she went wrong, what went wrong, and what lacked in her rarely came anymore. Back then, when she’d be idle and alone, she’d stare at nothing and suddenly cry due to her mean thoughts. Now, Y/N Icestone knew her worth, and turns out, she was too much for George. She was too good for him. Daphne and Draco made sure she knew that.

However, even if months have passed ever since her relationship with the Gryffindor, both Icestone and Weasley were having a hard time.

After being convinced that there’d be no way the ex-lovers would communicate seriously for final closure, both parties tried to bury their feelings deep inside them. But putting too much stuff inside a bottle will burst it open.

“What did you want once it was all over, George?” Icestone quietly spat, trying hard not to divert the other people’s attention towards them.

Today was the day where the week’s potions class happened. It was annoying for Icestone, really.

Come to think of it, Y/N Icestone loved potions. She even wanted to practice a career centered in potions someday. But this class? She hates it. She used to love it but now she hates it and ironically, the same reason why she loved it and hated it now was the same - being partners with George Weasley.

One minute they were quietly working on the contents of their cauldron and the next they were confronting each other about their previous relationship.

“...”

The Slytherin sighed, dropping her hands beside her before putting a palm on her forehead. “I’m a fool!” She declared, disappointed laced all over her voice.

The girl let out another sigh before continuing. “I was so bloody stupid for thinking that you were different. I’m a fool for believing that you love me. I’m such a fool! I was never like this before. How did you make me become such a fool for you?”

“But did you?” Asked George, expression with a little bit of curiosity and unknown hope as his brown eyes pierced into the girl’s glassy ones.

“Did I do what?”

It was only then when the boy started to feel a bit embarrassed about the thought of telling the girl in front of him what he wanted to say out loud. Despite being embarrassed, George was never raised to be a coward. He was sorted into Gryffindor after all.

“Did you love me?”

The girl felt her breath hitch, flustered by the boy’s question.

Y/N contemplated for a few moments before giving out her answer.

The question merely required a “yes” or “no” as an answer but oh how it made it seem like it was the hardest question to answer right now. If the girl answered “yes”, then what would that make her? She’d be the gullible girl George Weasley played with! But if she answered “no”, then she’d be lying. Oh, how she hated lying.

So instead of giving a direct answer, she asked back. “Did you?”

One side of George’s lips curved, his expression a smirk but mischief absent. “I asked first.”

He pointed out. “I said, did you?” The Slytherin pressed on, waiting.

Truthfully, the girl didn’t know what answer she should expect. She didn’t know how to react when she hears the boy’s answer. Is she really ready to know whether the Gryffindor truly loved her or not?

“Never.” George mumbled, turning his attention back towards their brewing potion.

Icestone’s jaw dropped, shocked by the ginger’s declaration. Thankfully, her heart didn’t fall into her stomach. No, it didn’t hurt at all. Why? Because the girl knew better.

“This is going to be the last time you’re ever going to lie in front of my face, Weasley.” She hissed before grabbing a vial to put in their brewed potion and gathering all of her belongings to leave the room.

“Never did I not.” The Gryffindor continued, sighing nobody but himself.

____________________

Two weeks after the confrontational outburst regarding Icestone and Weasley’s past relationship, the girl finally became fed up with the sight of George.

Things just didn't go right for her when it was time for potions class. Mainly because her ex boyfriend was her partner. They just simply couldn’t get along.

She was tired. For Merlin’s sake, all she wanted was a peaceful year and good grades but the ginger was hindering both of that for her.

“Professor, can’t I change my partner? Daphne Greengrass and her partner gave me their permission to switch too!” Icestone convinced the potions master.

The dark eyes of the professor bored itself on the face of the Slytherin. “Can you tell me, Ms. Icestone. Why do you have the need to change your partner? Didn’t I make myself clear at the start of the year that whoever you choose will be permanent?” Answered Snape.

“I don’t think Weasley is a good partner, sir. Look what happened last time, Professor. I don’t want to fail this class and if he continues to be my partner, he might drag me down with him!”

Snape’s lips curled into an unamused smirk. “That’s not my problem anymore, Ms. Icestone. You’re smart. You do something about it.”

At least Y/N tried.

“Listen.” The Slytherin called out, making the Gryffindor face her with a nervous look.

The girl’s arms were crossed, an annoyed but compromising expression plastered all over her face as she stared at the boy’s eyes.

If present Y/N Icestone was to tell past Y/N Icestone how she would be the first one to let her pride down towards George Weasley, she probably wouldn’t believe her.

But it must be done. Because there is no way that the Y/N Icestone is going to fail potions just because of a boy.

“If we’re going to force ourselves to work together for Potions, then we have to at least be on speaking terms with each other.” Icestone began, earning a small nod from George.

“We need proper communication, okay?” She continued, earning another nod.

Y/N nodded at George’s acknowledging nod. “So how about we figure this out and start again?” She offered.

“Yes, I would like that very much. Thank you.” The Gryffindor carefully began, sneaking a look at the girl’s expression before continuing.

“And, I’m sorry. For everything. For ruining our potions the last weeks and for dragging you to detention with me. I didn’t mean it, I swear! It was just an accident.” George reasoned, rambling in the middle of his explanation.

The girl merely nodded to show how she was listening to every word. “So, friends?” asked George as he offered a hand towards the girl.

Icestone’s cold eyes burned holes at the back of the boy’s hand, contemplating whether to shake it or not.

Truthfully, the girl’s objective was to make them go in speaking terms again. They didn’t have to be friends, really. They just needed to communicate in potions class so that her grade doesn’t descend even further.

Also, Icestone was not sure what being friends with George Weasley would bring her. Would it bring her the peace that she wanted? Or would it just mess up her head even more? What would be the consequences of shaking the ginger’s big warm hand? Was she prepared for those consequences?

But nonetheless, the girl took the risk of compromising. She really wanted the good grades. “Friends.”

____________________

Turns out being friends with George Weasley didn’t give any harm towards Y/N Icestone. In fact, it felt like a breath of fresh air.

No, it wasn’t as if their previous midnight escapades at the astronomy tower resumed. It wasn’t as if they’d greet each other whenever they passed by each other. And no, it wasn’t as if they spent some time in the library to study. No, nothing was like that.

Their interaction remained inside the potion’s classroom. And it was refreshing, really. Y/N Icestone didn’t have to dread attending the class anymore. She finally had proper teamwork with her partner and her grades were starting to stabilize once again.

Additionally, everyone always tried to be an insider towards the girl’s life. And truthfully? The girl didn’t want another set of rumors about herself and the Gryffindor rekindling their love or some other type of rubbish flying around the school.

“Wanna know a secret?” George suddenly asks, making Y/N steal a quick glance at him.

“Sure.” She muttered, resuming her work on squeezing the juice out of the beetle for today’s potion work.

“The first task involves dragons.” The ginger whispered, looking proud at himself.

“Dragons?! What are they gonna do with them? Fight them?” The girl asked, shocked.

“Yup.”

“But...isn’t that dangerous?”

George gave her a nod. “It is. The Triwizard tournament involves 3 extremely dangerous tasks anyways.”

Aside from the information about the Triwizard tournament, the Slytherin was rather amazed at how the Gryffindor got the information.

“You really have a way around things, don’t you? How did you find out anyway?” Asked Y/N.

“My older brother, Charlie, brought them here. He works with dragons.”

However, even if Icestone and Weasley’s friendship remained during potions, the Slytherin was not free from her best friend’s concerned interrogation.

“What’s up with you and Weasley?” Daphne suddenly asks one night when the two were preparing to go to bed.

“We’re friends, I guess.” Answered Y/N.

The raven-haired girl sat on her bed, moving towards Icestone’s to lay down beside her, facing her.

“You can’t be just friends with your ex-boyfriend!” She exclaimed, earning a raised brow.

“Why not?”

“Well, because he’s your ex!” Daphne said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Icestone chuckled, placing a hand on top of the Greengrass. “Relax, Daph! It wasn’t like...anything in our previous relationship was real.”

“But you felt real emotions, didn’t you?”

“Well, that was on me!” Y/N reasoned. “It’s not like I have feelings for him, anymore.”

Instead of getting a verbal response from Daphne, all Y/N received was an unamused look.

“Okay, maybe I do but I’m trying to move on! Like I said Daphne, what we used to be will never be again. We’re just not...compatible.”

Icestone’s best friend’s lips curled into a smirk.

“You know, I read something in a magazine before. You can’t be just friends with your ex. Or, you can be friends but that only means that one still likes the other.”

“Well, the one who likes the other is definitely not me.” Y/N denied.

Daphne gave her a raised brow. “Then it’s Weasley?”

“No! I don’t even know if he really did like me. Even if he did, I like to think that he didn’t. The thought makes it easier to move on. Besides, all those are behind us now. Right now, we’re just friends. Really.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again, Y/N.”

“I won't, Daph. I won’t.”

____________________

Meanwhile, inside Fred and George’s shared dorm with their best friend, Lee, who was actually nowhere to be seen.

“So you’re telling me...you and Icestone are back to being friends?” The older twin tried to confirm, not really impressed with the idea.

George answered with a nod and a short “yeah.”, earning a raised brow from his twin.

“Why are you back to being friends? That’s impossible!” Fred exclaimed, shaking his head as he paced around the room.

“Why can’t we be friends? I think being friends is much better than being strangers. It gives us peace, you know? We don’t really fight during potions anymore.” The younger ginger reasoned.

“Peace?!” Fred repeated. “Be honest with me, Georgie. Are you really at peace? Is your heart at peace? I know you know that you can’t be just friends with your ex!”

Fred’s words started to sync into George’s mind. Was he really at peace after all the chaos that has happened in the past few months? Was he really at peace after being friends with Y/N Icestone despite still having real and genuine feelings for her? Was he really at peace even if answers to his questions were not being handed to him? Even if there was still no closure between them?

But then again, being friends with the girl than being enemies was much better, right? At least he still saw her. At least he still talked to her.

Is that enough?

“You know what, Fred? I can’t be just friends with Y/N Icestone.” The younger ginger declared, standing up from his bed.

“I want her back, Freddie. But I don’t know what to do. What should I do?” He continued.

The older ginger gave him a wide grin, patting his back. “Dear, dear, George. How about a plan b?”

“Plan b?”

Fred nodded. “Yeah, plan b. B that stands for ‘boy I realized that I can’t live without you and that you’re the one that I want so please take me back’”

“That’s such a long name.” Grunted George, shaking his head from left to right.

“Oh, no need to be intimidated by it. I can guarantee you that this is 100% going to work.” Fred assured his twin as a million thoughts flooded his mind, one by one constructing a blueprint inside his head to help his brother.

George sighed, unsure as the look of his worn-out pajamas came into his view. “I don’t know, Fred. The last time you and I made a plan that involved Y/N Icestone, it broke my heart. It broke her heart!”

“That is why we’re gonna mend it back!” Fred said enthusiastically.

“How?” asked the younger ginger with uncertainty.

Suddenly, George found himself alone in their dorm after Fred came running out and towards the common room.

“Angelina!” George heard Fred call. Shaking his head afterward with the thought: how is Angelina going to help with me getting back Y/N Icestone? Fred will probably just flirt with her all throughout.

“What do you want, Fred?” Huffed Angelina, annoyed at the look of a wide-grinned Fred because it could only mean one thing; mischief.

“You in?” He asked without any other context, earning a confused Gryffindor chaser. However, the expression on the boy’s face didn’t falter.

After a few moments of silence, the girl eventually understood what the tall ginger was pertaining to. They did talk about it previously anyway.

This time, it was Angelina’s turn to call somebody. “Alicia!” The other Gryffindor chaser stood from her seat, excusing herself from the study group she currently was in before approaching her teammates. “Angie, you called?”

The dark-skinned girl turned to look at her, her expression the same with the boy; a wide grin.

“You know that one time when you told me that you owe me because I covered you up from McGonagall for sneaking into the Ravenclaw tower that one night?”

“Yes…”“Well, now’s the time to pay it back.”

Fear started to spread in Alicia Spinnet’s eyes. “I don’t think I like where this is going…” she remarked.

“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

____________________

The next Monday morning, as Y/N Icestone made her way towards the Great hall, alone (for the reason that Daphne just had the habit of waking up much earlier than her to do all her morning rituals before starting the day), the Slytherin noticed how students of different houses passed on information with each other like it was their form of the morning paper.

Typical. The Slytherin thought.

But she wouldn’t lie, she too, was curious about what baseless rumors are being passed around this week. Last week, it was how Harry Potter would probably lose the first round in the first task for the Triwizard tournament. Draco even made it worse for the boy who lived by making his goons hand out pins that state “Potter Stinks”. Y/N thought it was childish but boys will be boys.

What even made her curious is the way people stared at her, looking at her up and down as if she was a piece of meat.

I mean, she was used to people keeping an eye on her, she did have a good sense of fashion and her presence alone demanded attention, but something was different for today. Why? Because as people gossiped, they were looking at her.

“What’s everyone gossiping about these days?” Y/N asked her cat, Lixie, who she was carrying in her arms.

“Would you really like to know?” The cat replied, still feeling sleepy.

“That’s why I asked, didn’t I?”

Lixie yawned, kneading his paws. “Seems like Weasley got himself a new girlfriend.”

“Fred and Angelina became official?!” The girl asked, shocked.

“No.”

“Ron and...some girl from Gryffindor?” The girl asked, unsure.

“No!” The cat hissed, clearly getting annoyed at the girl’s obliviousness. “It’s George, Y/N.”

“Oh.” Icestone let out.

I guess Lixie’s response gave her the understanding as to why people were staring at her. The gossip was about her ex-boyfriend.

Surprisingly, she didn’t feel anything negative from the information. It was better than she expected. She didn’t feel blue, hatred, or any remorse at all. Although she felt a little annoyed at how the people still associated her with the Gryffindor.

“Who is it then?” she pondered.

No matter who she thought it was, none of them really matched George. But maybe it was someone she didn’t know. After all, there were a lot of students from Gryffindor that she had no idea of.

“I don’t know and I don’t really care. I heard she’s not even pretty.” Lixie shared, hoping to close the topic so that he may get back to his nap.

____________________

Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor table where the center of this week’s school gossip was located, was an annoyed yet slightly scared Alicia Spinnet.

“I swear to Godric, Fred, if the Slytherins find out about this and make fun of me, I’m gonna tell Angelina to kick you off the team.” The girl grunted as she displayed a balled fist for the older Weasley twin.

“Too bad she can’t do that ‘cause I’m literally one of the best beaters this team has ever had.” Fred teased, sticking a tongue out.

Instead of the twins sitting beside each other like they usually do, Fred was seated in front of George who’s back was facing the Slytherin table. Beside George was Alicia while Lee was beside Fred.

Today’s mission was to earn the attention of the Slytherin in which all George and Alicia had to do was sit beside each other after Lee purposely spread rumors about them dating. Additionally, to know whether the mission was a success or a failure, Lee and Fred were there to monitor everything.

“Then I’ll tell her your secret!” Alicia challenged, crossing her arms in front of her.

“What secret?” Fred hesitated, nervousness starting to engulf him.

“I know you like her, Freddie!” gloated Alicia.

“Oh yeah? Well, what is there to be afraid of? I’m no coward, I’m a Weasley!”

“Lee, any news?” George queried after shaking his head at Alicia and Fred’s antics.

“The snake just entered the hall,” Lee reported, quietly keeping an eye on the walking Slytherin as she took her usual seat on her house’s table.

“She is seated in front of Malfoy. She’s also beside Greengrass and they’re whispering.” The boy continued.

____________________

As Y/N took her usual seat beside the 6th year Greengrass, she noticed the girl being more ecstatic compared to every other morning. The girl was glowing, her grin was wide and a shade of pink flooded her cheeks. It seems like she was announcing something very important, seeing the tablemates’ attention focused solely on her.

At least something different was being talked about at Slytherin. Y/N thought, internally smiling at herself.

The Icestone heir observed all the attentive faces, her eyes landing on the blonde boy in front of her, the Italian boy seated next to the blonde, then the quiet boy who always had a book in hand who had the same shade of pink on his cheeks.

A thought entered the mind of the Slytherin, theorizing what her observations meant but deciding to find out to confirm everything.

Y/N bumped her shoulders to the girl beside her, whispering. “Daphne? What’s going on?”

Greengrass turned to face her, her eyes shining. “Turns out, my parents found me a match! I just received the owl.”

The Icestone mirrored the girl’s smile. “Well, you seem happy about it, Who is it?”

The boy seated next to Blaise Zabini let out a cough, making Greengrass steal a glance before turning back to her best friend.

“Theodore Nott.” Daphne giggled.

The smile on Icestone’s face dropped, cold eyes piercing the mentioned boy as she put on her most intimidating look.

“Alright, Nott. You listen here-” She began.

“Oh, poor boy.” Malfoy murmured, shaking his head with a smirk plastered around his face.

“Don’t scare him!” Greengrass scolded, smacking her best friend on the arm.

“I’m just kidding!” Icestone snickered before laughing at the boy’s terrified look.

“Cheer up, Theodore. I’m only joking.” She assured.

“But oh! I’m so happy for you, Daph! You were always waiting for this day to come, weren’t you?” Y/N commented before giving the raven-haired girl a side hug.

“Congrats best friend! We’re both betrothed!” Daphne beamed, returning the hug.

A series of falling silverware started to fill the Slytherin table, making the two girls pull away at the sound.

Icestone’s head became flooded with confusion, especially after seeing the shocked look on Draco and his friends’ faces. She slightly tilted her head, trying to figure out what was happening.

Eyeing all the tables at the Great hall one by one - Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, then Slytherin, everything started to make sense when the majority of her housemates had their jaws dropped, eyes towards her.

She couldn’t help but let her jaw drop too.

“Daphne...” she quietly called, trying to avoid everyone else present on the table.

“Bloody hell! I’m so sorry!” The girl agonized, her previously excited mood being replaced with guilt.

____________________

“Oh Godric,” Lee happily murmured, face contorting into a smile.

“What?” Fred, not really monitoring the Slytherin, asked with uncertainty.

“Look over there!” Lee ordered, eyes never leaving the Icestone heir.

After following Lee’s line of sight, Fred turned his attention towards his twin, beaming at him. “She looks shocked. I think she saw George! I think it worked!” he chimed with triumph.

George felt his lips curling into a wide smile.

____________________

Later that day, after Y/N’s last class with Professor McGonagall for transfiguration was dismissed, just before the girl headed back towards the dungeons, her arm was grabbed and she was pulled into an empty hallway.

Truthfully, the Slytherin felt like everything was a blur ever since the day started. Especially after breakfast at the Great hall.

Therefore, she wasn’t really focused on everything that was around her, causing her to grab her wand from her robes and point it at the intruder.

“Relax! It’s just me.” George assured, raising both his hands into a surrendering position.

Icestone looked at the boy up and down, keeping her wand away before crossing her arms.

“What do you want?” She mused, tapping her feet impatiently.

The tall Gryffindor furrowed his brows, staring down at the Slytherin. “Why are you so cranky today?” He pondered before shaking his head.

Y/N only gave him a grunt, hissing another “hurry up!” which made George grab the girl’s hand, placing a bag on top of it.

Icestone’s icy orbs stared at the bag. “What’s this?”

“Chocolate chip cookies, your favorite. To cheer you up, somehow,” replied George with a small smile plastered on his face.

George knew why the girl was so out of mood today. It was because she was jealous after rumors about him and Alicia started to spread around the school! And he planned on making her feel better by doing some good deeds. What more deed could be better than gifting the Slytherin her favorite sweets?

The Slytherin’s lips curled into a smirk. “You’re sure these aren’t raisins?” She teased.

“Hey! That was one time!”

Saving from turning the conversation into an awkward one, the girl muttered a quick “Thanks.”

“Good thing your girlfriend doesn’t get mad jealous when you do this kind of stuff with other girls.” Y/N mindlessly added, internally slapping herself at the comment.

She didn’t mean to let those sentences out, Y/N Icestone swears! It was at the tip of her tongue but she usually would’ve swallowed everything in. She didn’t know why words started to flow out of her mouth without any second thoughts.

“Girlfriend?” The Gryffindor repeated, feeling ecstatic on the inside.

George felt like he just won the lottery. Y/N’s statement just confirmed his theory of her being jealous.

“Is she not? People were talking about it though?” The Slytherin quipped, raising a brow.

George just gave a shrug for an answer.

____________________

“You handed her cookies! What is she gonna think now, you stupid git!” Fred grunted, smacking his twin’s arm.

“She thought Alicia was my girlfriend! How fun is that?” replied George.

The older ginger shook his head in disbelief. “Sure, she thought that Alicia was your girlfriend but what kind of boyfriend will she think you’ll be? A boyfriend who goes out of their way to give gifts to their exes?!”

“Oh, Godric! You’re right! That was a stupid move” George agonized, massaging his temples.

Fred gave him a pat on the back, comforting him “It’s fine, Georgie. You’ll do better next time. ”

“If there is a next time.”

“No-”

The painting of the fat lady, which actually served as an entrance towards the Gryffindor common room, suddenly bursts open with an out-of-breath Ron Weasley who looked like he just came running away from a wild elephant together with his best friend, Harry Potter.

At their little brother’s disheveled appearance, the Weasley twins put their conversation to a halt as their attention was directed towards him.

“You would not know what I just heard at Divination class earlier!” Ron gushed, calling over Hermione and Ginny to join in their little circle for him to deliver the information he knew.

“What?” Hermione grunted, annoyed at the ginger for ruining her reading session as well as the thought of the stupid class.

“So you know how Gryffindor and Slytherin are always conveniently in the same class, right?” breathed Ron.

“Of course...they pair us with those snakes as if we’re actually going to get along…” Fred commented, shaking his head.

The 4th year Weasley ignored his brother’s remark and continued on. “Well, when me and Harry entered the room, Malfoy and his lot were talking and it looked serious.”

Ginny raised a brow towards his brother. “So, being the nosy boy you are, you eavesdropped?” She interrogated, displeased.

“Ginny, it looked important. I had to know because what if one of us is involved? What if they’re planning another thing that could hurt George?” Ron reasoned before raising his right hand to swat the air.

“But anyway, I heard Zabini scolding Malfoy. I know, hard to believe right? But he said something like the entirety of the Slytherin house finding out Malfoy’s most important secret.”

All the people included in their little bubble gave a small nod, acknowledging the young Weasley, getting more and more curious.

“And?” George pressed on, making Ron look directly into his eyes.

“I heard what the secret was!” He rejoiced, being proud of himself.

“They really should have kept their voices lower.” He added.

“Just get to the point, Ronald!” Exclaimed Hermione, clearly getting annoyed by the lack of information.

“Y/N Icestone is betrothed to Draco Malfoy.”

End of Chapter 9

____________________

Taglist: @abrunettefangirlnerd @gloryekaterina @lilypad-55449 @memekingofwwiii @leovaldez37 @bellaiscool @sukunas-cult-leader @fandom-garbage @youcantbesirius @rainmaybank

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dreamii-yume · 3 years

Note

For Malleus’ birthday can we get a date exploring abandoned buildings with him.

Note : This takes place back when you still don’t know what Tsunotarou’s real identity is.

Malleus couldn’t sleep.

Not like he needed much anyway, someone as powerful as him wouldn’t submit to something as primal as sleep. To him, it was irrelevant and the darkness of the night just so happens to be his favorite time of the day. So, he had to do what he always do the best; Escape from the surveillance of his retainers and explore a world he had never been to before. It’s the same old routine every time and yet, the unknown never cease to fascinate him.

However, it was strange to say that no matter how much he walks, his feet would always carry him back to a place that he knows all too well. The Ramshackle Dorm whose only occupant is a petty monster, and a lone human that could not use magic. It used to be his favorite place, although he’ll never actually admit that to anyone. It was a shame that there is now someone to disrupt that atmospheric peace it had. There would be more people that’ll visit that place and soon, it’ll lose all the qualities that made it special.

But even so...Malleus found himself gazing at it tonight as well.

He...Doesn’t really know how he got here in the first place, nor does he ever understand why. It felt like it’s a huge responsibility, to visit the dorm in every way he can. Maybe it was because he’s still attached to the place? Maybe he had already explored everything he has to in this island? No, it’s not that. He was simply waiting...and hoping for a certain someone to come out every time he comes to visit.

“My, my...It’s a surprise to see you still out in the cold at a time like this. Have you had any fear at all?”

One of the residence in that same broken down dorm, a child of a human. She had no powerful magic to compare to his, the odd one in a school focused on honing a wizard’s magical capability. Honestly, she was just an unfortunate creature, a bystander that shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place. Malleus almost feels bad for her, having heard of stories from his supervisor about all the things that this human had to go through with the other dorm leaders mysteriously overblotting. She was a well-developed young woman by human standards, but in his eyes, all he sees is a little girl still in need of guidance.

She was nothing special, and yet, she never fails to put a smile on his face.

“Ah, Tsunotarou...!”

What a ridiculous nickname. If his people were to hear this one human call him, call The Malleus Draconia by such terms, there would be a riot, a controversy. Honestly, if it were anyone but you who would dare to call him by that name, a shot of lightning would’ve probably executed them right on the spot. Guess it was a good thing that you got permission beforehand, huh? Even if you yourself hadn’t realized so, it was charming to say the least.

“I could say the same thing for you too.” You said, with your head held up high to look at him in the eyes. Malleus could not see the tiniest bit of fear in your eyes, it was clear that you did not see him as a threat at all, unlike the others. “Say, didn’t you say that you were a fan of exploring around? I’m kinda in a mood to do just that so, would you like to accompany me?”

Malleus couldn’t help but chuckle at what you said, not one person had ever said that to him with a straight face before. “Was that an invitation, Child of Man? How curious...” He asked, in which he received an eager nod from you. “Very well then, I accept. Honestly, I could never find a gloomy moment with you.”

His comment only left you raising your eyebrow in confusion, something that he had already expected. It was no use on confusing the ignorant any further, after all. Either way, you carry on along with him accompanying you wherever you plan to go.

Some of the places that you both ended up visiting had already been old news to Malleus, having all the time in the world to explore them. However, that radiant in your eyes prevented him from saying anything that would spoil your excitement, your reaction was far too amusing. You were a curious human child, having the courage to look at every crooks a place had without worrying about the risks for traps. For that short time he had with you tonight, he already lost count of how many times he had to use his magic to move away debris away from you, without yourself even noticing. From the large boulders that could actually seriously injure you, to the tiniest of rocks that you wouldn’t even feel, it became a reflex for him to keep a look out for any other danger that may come your way.

Malleus even found himself secretly using magic to lead you to a specific part of a place, one that would make your eyes shine in amazement once you found it. You would go up to him, feeling proud by thinking that you found such treasure yourself when it truth, he played a major role in it. But still, he could never say that, he enjoyed your enthusiasm way too much to do so.

“Exploring like this really takes the energy out of you quick, huh...” You said as a yawn escapes you. Initially intending to take a break, you and Malleus sat beside each other in a nearby bench, a lamp post illuminating the surroundings.

With his arms crossed, Malleus observed the way you rubbed your eyes, as if to fight the urge to sleep. It was clear that you’ve already reached your limit for tonight, and although he feels rather disappointed that it would end so soon, you needed to rest your eyes. “Isn’t it about time for you to come back to your dorm? It has gotten quite late.” He suggested with his eyes closed, still in dismay that his time with you is over. Truly, the difference between the endurance between a human and a fae are both far and wide.

“Yeah...” You listlessly agreed whilst nodding off, it made Malleus smile slightly actually. Honestly, you’re hopeless, and with that extreme vulnerability of yours, just imagine all the things that he could do. He isn’t as friendly as you think after all, but revealing that now would simply be boring in his standards, not to mention quite pointless. With only a few months of talking and meeting up like this, you already had come to trust him so much as to never raise your guard up when it comes to him. He should be offended, but there was a certain charm around it when it’s you. “It’s really late, and...”

Suddenly, you looked up, coincidentally seeing a clock post nearby and Malleus had to tilt his head in wonder with that pause in your words. Then, you widened your eyes. “Ah! It’s already passed midnight!” You blurted out in panic, which made Malleus face palm gently, so that’s what this is all about? Just realizing that, you’re such a... “Here!”

This time, it was Malleus’ turn to be caught off-guard as you handed him some sort cloth, no...It was a scarf. “...What do you intend on giving me this?” Malleus asked, looking back at your smile.

You blinked repeatedly. “What do I intend...? Well...” You trailed off, scratching the back of your head before looking back at him with a cute blush on your cheeks. “...It’s your birthday today, isn’t it?”

It took him a moment, slowly widening his eyes as realization came by him. “Birth...day?” It didn’t even occur to him, he completely forgot the importance of this new day that came by. “...How do you know about that?”

“Lilia-senpai told me! Since he seemed to know you.” You beamed up at him. “Though...I kinda panicked a little, and I don’t really know too much about you to actually know what kind of gift you would like...”

You scratched your cheek in embarrassment, looking away from him. “...So, I ended up knitting something and before I knew it, it turned into a scarf, haha...” You sheepishly explained, face burning at how low your reasoning was. “Y-You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, but I’d really appreciate it...If you can at least take it...”

Malleus stared at your face, your usually bright expression had suddenly been overpowered by sheer embarrassment. Your face was red, the way you were biting you lips slightly was a new side of nervousness that he didn’t know about you, nor he had ever known that you were capable of expressing. It was honestly...refreshing to see that, adorable even. Looking at the scarf in your hand, it was true that it looked like it was hand crafted. You still didn’t seem to have a full grasp in knitting yet, judging from the few loosely strands sticking out here and there, but it still wasn’t exactly bad.

Then, Malleus just couldn’t help it anymore. A booming laughter escaped his throat, it was more than a chuckle, he was actually letting out his entertainment right there. “Haha! Oh, Child of Man...You are truly the most interesting human I’ve ever encountered!” He exclaimed, a large smile sprawled on his face.

“I-I am...?” You muttered in a flinch, not expecting him to say anything at all.

“Very well...I shall take it.” It’s not like there was any trouble anyways, Malleus would’ve still gladly take it from you if you were so generously offering it up to him. Regardless if it was his birthday or not.

“R-Really...!?”

“I don’t see why not.” Malleus said, raising his eyebrow with a smirk that can never disappear from his face for some reason. “I’ll even give you permission to place it around me and let you see how it looks.”

“Yay!” You cheered, scooting closer to him with the scarf on your hands. Malleus instantly noticed the gesture you gave him and lowered his head slightly, just enough for you to wrap the fluffy fabric around his neck. Tying them up nicely, you marvelled at the way your horned friend look. “Wah~! Tsunotarou, you look adorable! And comfortable too!”

A twitch displayed on his eyebrow, but you playfully dismissed it. “Is that so...” He said and you nodded vigorously. He huffed, the cold was not an enemy to him at all, he has a natural tolerance when it comes to it. A scarf was something that is normally pointless to him but surprisingly, he felt warm. Maybe not because of the heat it provided, but because he could feel the immense care and loving effort that you put into making it. “Well...Whatever makes you happy.”

Giggling, another sleepy yawn escapes you, but it sounded way more exhausted than the previous one. Without thinking, you lay your head on Malleus’ shoulder, startling the fae. “Hehe...Tsunotarou’s so warm...” You said, leaning your forehead against him, with your hands clenched around his sleeve. Malleus kept quiet, he couldn’t say anything back as he just stared at your form, waiting for your next response.

...But what greeted him next were just a batch of soft snores, suggesting that you had finally succumbed to your battle against the overwhelming slumber. Malleus blinked a few times, before chuckling at your behavior. Even in your sleep, you sound so chipper, probably because of the fact that you’ve accomplished something for tonight. He raised a hand and hanged it around your shoulder, pulling you closed for more comfort. He glanced down at your sleeping figure, still can’t believe that you fell asleep in his presence.

Sometimes, Malleus wonders what you would be like if you’ve met in an alternate universe where you’re aware of who he is. Would you be scared, or would everything stay the same as always? When it comes to you, he still couldn’t determine which would be the exact answer. But if he were to ask you that same exact question, a part of him could just laugh and sit back as it wouldn’t really matter. He already knew what you were going to say, after all.

“Tsunotarou would always be Tsunotarou”

...That was what you told him before too, right? Malleus liked that answer, it was really something to expect from the strangest human he had ever meet. So, until then, there was no reason for him to doubt you. He’ll believe your words as he continues to wait for the inevitable day that you will come to know of his real name. He doesn’t have to rush, he’ll cherish these moments for a little longer, while he still can.

It was funny, for the first time in his long years of fae life, he was fine putting his arms around a human like this. He even go as far as to keep you warm from the cold, making your slumber a little more comfortable. Closing his eyes gently, he leaned his head close to your own, foolishly basking in a human’s warmth himself...How scandalous for the future heir of the Valley of Thorns, being so intimate with a mere human like this. The very fact that he’s enjoying this moment right now is a sin of itself, he’ll be in so much trouble...

...And yet, for the very first time, Malleus could not care less.

MALLEUS AND YUU INTERACTIONS ARE THE BEST SCENES IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE GAME.

CHANGE MY MIND.

...Actually, no. You can’t, it’s too late. I’m already feeling so girly for this ship.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #Birthday Crumbs (Malleus)

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justoneday-namjoonii · 4 years

Text

Don’t Breathe | 4.0

»Genre: hitman!au/bountyhunter!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of potential Stockholm syndrome, mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is purely fiction.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was paid to get rid of everyone who witnessed the exchange between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month later, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt. 4.5 - pt. 5.0

A/n: will edit later^^ hope u enjoy💖

taglist: @tangledsparkles @just-another-fangurl21 @impartoftoomanyfandoms @komorebi-unnie @tangledsparkles

The city has always held dark secrets in the shape of hopes and dreams, luring in optimistic ankle-biters, wishing to really become something. And more often than not, it works out. That dreamer gets to live the reality they’ve been waiting for, and it all seems a little too perfect.

“Can I get you anything, sir?”

“One coffee please,” Peeking up from his phone, he acknowledges the petite waitress, “no cream no sugar.”

“Coming right up,”

He’s gone over the folder a thousand times, just making sure he didn’t miss anything. As far as information on you, he’s got all he needs, now it’s a matter of finding out what you were doing in the 24 hours before you vanished. He was able to stop by the police station and talk with the detective on the case. She wasn’t much help, but she did say Suzy had been calling her twice a day, looking for updates. Jin didn’t contact her as often but he’s been waiting for updates from Yoongi instead.

“Excuse me?” He pulled from his thoughts when he sees the woman in front of him, “Hi, I’m Suzy, you’re Min Yoongi, right?” She looks a bit unsure, he figured she’s just waiting for him to respond.

“Yes, sorry,” He stands up and shakes her hand before they both take a seat, “thank you for coming so short notice.”

“Of course, a meeting was canceled this morning so I had the time,” Sitting her purse in her lap, she tries to look relaxed but the way her brows furrow, he knows she’s worried, “I hope I can help in some way,”

“How long have you known her?” He opens up a little notepad and takes out a pen.

“Six, Almost seven years now. She was an intern for a while, she’s been writing for us for all that time. Recently, I wanted her to start dabbling in field assignments as a reporter, she wasn’t too keen on the idea but she agreed.”

She glances at the notepad as he quickly jots down little notes. “What was the assignment?”

“A press conference with a lot of the controversy regarding the parties who attended. Quite a few people who attended from some news stations and outlets like that started dying off. She doesn’t really do politics, but I asked her to write an article on it because she was there. On the morning of publication, she didn’t show up to work. The publication was at 8 so I had to look for it so we could publish it. She had been working on it for weeks but it was missing from the writer's archive, it looked like it was deleted. The physical copy was gone and her computer was too. That’s when I went to her house and she was gone...”

The deep furrow in Yoongi’s eyes has her swallowing the lump in her throat.

“She went missing the day the article was supposed to be published? Am I the first person you’ve told this to?” She nods.

“Why didn’t you tell the police about this? If she went missing the exact same day the article was to be published, that information changes the case. Knowing that others who attended this conference have died, there’s a chance she was being targeted because she was there as well.”

“I- I don’t know, I just didn’t think about it, I never would have thought she’d be targeted for posting a harmless article.”

“I’m going to assume she was being targeted because of the article, it makes the most sense. Someone at that conference didn’t want this to get out and they knew she was writing the article somehow.”

If her heart could sink any lower, it’d be in her feet. She should have never had you write that article, maybe you’d still be here if she had just listened to you. “What does this mean?”

“This city is filled with crooked people in power, there’s a chance that one of them were behind this,” He closes up the notepad and takes one sip of coffee, “I’ll do a little digging and see what I can find.” He pulls his jacket on and tucks a few dollars under his cup.

“Wait,” She stops him, “what can I do to help? I feel like this is my fault, if anything bad happened to her-”

“Don’t blame yourself for this, it could have happened to anyone. Secondly, if you could give me sources on everyone one at the conference; reporters, cameramen, moderators, anyone. Someone had to have witnessed something, and I need to talk to them.”

“Okay, I’ll work on that today.”

Police, detectives, forensic scientist, all the necessary individuals required to pursue a missing person case passed through the station, on their own assignments. One of the detectives on the officers on the case, Jaemin, slips into his office to take a call.

“Hello? Mr. Lee, I’m sorry I could get to you early,”

“That’s fine, I just had a quick question. That missing persons case, you all are getting ready to drop it right? I heard there was investigation still going on,”

“Yes, unfortunately, we have an outside source working on the case and I hear he’s good. But don’t worry, Minho, I can shake him.”

“I hope so, one little reporter shouldn’t have made a big case,” He sighs, annoyed at the thought, “she’s dead, the client got what he asked for. I want this case to close as soon as possible.”

“I hear you, I’ll make sure it happens,”

“Good.”

He hangs up the phone and glances at the man across from him, waiting for the hefty check owed for his handwork on his last job. With a deep sigh, Minho picks up a pen and writes the check quickly and tucks it in an envelope before handing it to him.

“Everything okay, boss?” Jimin takes the envelope with a peachy smile.

“Kim’s last case is causing some problems- Not an error on his part of course, the target was reported missing and an investigation is happening. It was a multiple target case but there was one target that’s just fucking it all up,”

Jimin makes a thoughtful face. “A female? Young?”

“Yes, why do you ask?” Minho crooks a brows.

“He doesn’t seem like the type but I don’t know, where’s the body?”

“He doesn’t disclose that type of information, I respect his decision to do that,” Minho sighs, looking through files of other guild members to match them with clients, “I can’t imagine it’s a pretty process,”

“Well, maybe-” He pauses, finding the thought a bit humorous, “Maybe she’s not dead, y’know, just a theory,” He purses his lips, “but maybe not, his record is so clean, I doubt he’d leave a witness to tell the tale of whatever he does to them. I don’t blame him,”

“He told me that she’s dead, there’s no doubt about that.”

“Well, if he won’t disclose the body, how can you be sure? And you said he killed the other targets and there’s evidence of that, why is she the only one gone missing?” Jimin makes a nonchalant observation and Minho starts to really think about it, could Taehyung be hiding something? That’s not like him, he’s one of his best. He’s never had to doubt Taehyung, every assignment he’s been given, he’s completed without flaw. He can’t believe Taehyung would do anything to put the organization in jeopardy, he won’t believe it.

“Jimin, can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

The smell of blueberry pancakes tantalizes your senses, your eyes sleepily follow his movements from the fridge to the stove every few minutes. He’s making late breakfast because he said he was in the mood for some brunch. You finally get a glimpse at the tall stack of pancakes next to the griddle and you sigh, it looks so good.

A few days have gone by, and the sleeping arrangements have been different. Some nights, he’ll tell you you can sleep in the spare room and others he’ll have you sleep with him, it’s not entirely unpleasant when you’re with him. He makes you answer questions and tell him about your hopes, dreams, fears, and everything in between. Generally, he's been more lenient with you, not chaining you up so often, letting you roam around a little bit to get some exercise. Lately, he's felt more like your companion than your captor. You’re beginning to see parts of him that are so human. And you’re starting to believe that he’s not lying to you, he’s genuinely trying to protect you. It’s hard to believe that that’s where you’re head is.

He has music on, playing soft study-like songs that make you feel calm. You tried to keep from grinning, like you’d try to contain a cough in a quiet classroom. He sways to the rhythm gently, tapping his foot and flipping the fluffy breakfast treats. How he hums to the song absentmindedly, it reminds you of how Jin used to hum while studying or doing anything really. Taehyung’s voice is really nice, it’s smooth and comforting

“Y/n, come taste,” He turns and holds a fork up with a piece of pancake on it, beckoning you to come to have a bite. You go to him of course, happy to sample what you’ve been smelling for the past thirty minutes. When you come to stand by his side, eye-level with his shoulder, you wait for him to put a piece on a fork for you.

“Say ah,” He holds the fork to your mouth and as silly as you know you might look, you don’t care, you just wanna eat. Your mouth opens and your eyes go wide when it finally meets your taste-buds, “good?”

You nod, it’s as good as it smells. You wonder why you haven’t tried to cook like this for yourself before. Work seemed to consume you, you can admit that. Sometimes, a coffee would suffice as your breakfast. And at night, a drink and a burger with fries from the restaurant down the corner would satisfy you. But cooking, making something for yourself, it hasn’t happened in a while. You used to do it a lot when you first moved when you and Jin were spending a lot of time together. It’s different being by yourself, it’s sometimes easier to over-treat yourself with fast food or quick little meals from local places. Seldom do you get to enjoy a homemade meal made just for you. He’s smiling down at the two plates he’s making when you look up from your daze and for some reason, you feel shy but a little, happy?

No, stop it. You’re not supposed to feel happy, don’t allow yourself to sink further into that deceiving head-space. Into the space that makes him the source of humanity, the reminder that you’re alive. Finding yourself looking forward to seeing the light in his eyes, hearing the bass in his voice heavy on your ears. It feels good, you relish in it. Yes, you’re still trying to stay on his good side but these positive feelings, they feel too real.

“Let’s eat somewhere different today,” He gives you your plate with a cup of syrup, a fork, the works. “I think I need a change of scenery,”

You’re not sure where’s he’s planning to have this breakfast when he starts walking upstairs. For a moment, you think he’s going to his room but then he walks to the room where he’s yet to open since you’ve been here. Your stomach turns, you’ve been wondering what was behind this door.

When he opens the door, he waits for you to enter first, a smile ever so present on his face, he’s in such a good mood.

You walk inside and the size of the room alone is huge but you’re more surprised by the canvases propped against the wall. The white sheets spotted with colors and a bit bunched at the edges, it’s an art studio of some sort. Is this what he does when he’s home? There’s one canvas on a tall easel and it looks unfinished so he must’ve worked in here not too long ago.

He takes opens the French doors to the balcony and takes a seat on the floor. You do the same, holding your plate above your lap in the same way he’s holding his. The smell of the paint doesn’t bother you too much because of the fresh air, and the blueberry pancakes outweigh the smell as well. “Thank you for breakfast.” You whisper, now cutting into your three fluffy stacked pancakes, what you more interested in at the moment honestly.

“You’re welcome,” He grins to himself, “other than what I’ve been making, what do you like to eat? I’m getting groceries tomorrow,”

You don’t respond, too busy staring out the window in a daze and eating as if he weren’t there. He calls your name to get you to glance at him, just to make sure you can hear him. “Nothing,” You deadpan, “I’m okay...”

“There has to be something you want.”

“Fine,” You set your fork down, a little annoyed, “um, chocolate chip cookies, the ones with the chunks, and almond milk.” Hoping he’s satisfied with your answer, you finish the last bite of your food and continue to enjoy the view outside.

He takes your plate and sits it in on his so he can take it downstairs, leaving you to the peaceful room by yourself. You’re just now realizing how large his land is. There are other large homes nearby but they’re a fair distance away.

It’s been a while since you felt the sun on your bare skin or the soothing breeze dance past you. You’ve missed this, running in the early hours of the day when the air is just right. The first people you used to see were a handful of dedicated adults jogging, some accompanied by their dogs.

This paint room has a super tall ceiling, makes you feel like you’re in a museum. When you look at some of the paintings on the floor propped against the wall, you smile. It looks like he likes to paint faces, distinct expressions on faces. Then there are flowers, the basic artist subject. There’s a long wooden desk with paintbrushes, pens, pencils, paper, a lot of paint.

He comes back to the room, but his presence is oblivious to you for a little while, until his stumbles over a stray paintbrush and you look back at him.

He straightens up, his big eyes staring you down as he walks over to you. “Do you like to paint?”

“I’ve never really done it before, maybe when I was little but that’s about it,” You watch him open up a case and pick out a few brushes. He opens a few tubes of paint and squeezes a small amount on a pallet, then sets that down in front of you, “is that for me?”

“Mhm,” He nods. Gently taking the canvas that’s covered with a sheet from the easel, he puts it on the floor with some of the others. He opens up the closet to look for a nice-sized blank canvas for you to use. You pick up a brush and absentmindedly brush it against your skin to see how soft it is.

“Here we go,” He adjusts the canvas onto the easel, “come stand here,” He gestures to the little space directly in front of the easel and you oblige, curious.

“You want me to paint something?” You look back at him, a little confused.

“Yeah,” He stands next to you, staring at the blank canvas before looking at you, “only if you want to.”

This is probably the most interesting thing you’ve done since you got here, you figure he’s starting to trust you more. You take a moment to pick a brush, given you have little to no knowledge about this craft, you choose a random one. Not too big, not too small.

He watches you debate over which spot of paint you want to dip the brush in, you decide on blue. A dark blue with a little bit of white. At first, you try to draw a flower, something easy, but it proves to be harder than you anticipated. When you think the brush will make a nice little crescent shape for a petal, it makes an unappealing squiggle. As menial as it seems, its frustrating that it’s not coming out the way you envisioned in your mind. After about five minutes of trying to fix it, your patients get peeled down to its last layer.

“Ugh,” You withdraw your hand and just stare at the canvas, a deep frown on your face, “it’s not coming out right...”

“You have to give it a chance,” He gets up from the bar-stool he was sitting on in front of the desk, “take a step back, and think about something beautiful that little mistake could become.”

Giving up on your small brush, you squeeze a glob of paint on the pallet and exchange the brush for your fingers. He tilts his head when he sees you rub your fingers in the pallet and then drag your hands down the canvas. Coming up behind you, he tries to get a better look at what you're doing. You’ve dipped your hands in different blues and you covered the canvas completely, eyes focused.

Your hand stutters when you see his long fingers mimic the movement that you’d been doing. Being that his size nearly doubles your own, his chest is just centimeters from you. His arms comfortably reach the canvas, as if you weren’t an obstacle.

“What’re you doing...” You sigh, making gentle brushing motions alongside his, “This is my painting.”

“Oh, so you do want to do this?” His fingers stop all movement, “I didn’t think you cared that much, I’m sorry,” He pulls back, ready to wipe his hands but you grab his wrist with your paint-covered hand.

“I’m kidding,” He didn’t seem to mind getting the paint on his skin because he didn’t get upset, “you’ll probably make it look better anyway.”

It’s tearing you up. How this feels nice and how you don’t want him to stop. Just standing here, so close to him, and watching his fingers dance across the canvas, it’s torture. When your hands bump, both of you laugh and it makes a pretty burst of blue.

He dips his hand in the lightest shade on the pallet and presses it on the edges of the canvas before you let your hand fall from the art-work. It takes a minute, but he stops putting on the finishing touches and steps back to look it over.

“Hm,” He grabs two rags from the floor, giving one to you and keeping the other for his hands, “I like it.”

You try to wipe your hands clean but they still have a bluish tent. “What about this does something for you?...”

“I like capturing a moment in time, making my thoughts into something visual and tangible, it’s therapeutic.”

You stare at the painting in an attempt to see something poetic, or anything other than a bunch of blue paints smeared on a canvas. But in your futile attempt, the thought that he might think you’re enjoying this comes to mind, does he think you’re enjoying this? Giving you art supplies to keep your occupied like a little child, you shouldn’t be offended but it does feel a bit patronizing.

“That’s probably why you write, yeah?” He asks, leaning against the stool. “I’ve read all of your articles, you have a beautiful way of expressing yourself through words.”

“It doesn’t always feel that way,” You toss out an honest answer, “I wouldn’t call it therapeutic, but I do enjoy it...”

“I was hoping this room could be an outlet for you, somewhere for you to clear your mind.”

Lately you’ve been falling into theses moments of zoning out and you just feel like you’re losing your mind. But that’s when he comes behind you, wraps his arms around you and you instantly come back. And it goes like this, almost every day. He gets closer, you let him, and you start to feel more like he wants to trust you.

“What does our painting mean to you?” He shuffles you forward, getting you closer to the painting with his arms still secured around you.

“You tell me first,” You counter.

He takes a look, head tilting a bit, “It makes me think of my childhood, it wasn’t a very colorful one. I was taken from my mother as a toddler after the courts deemed her an unfit parent. She was in a bad place, had no business having a kid anyway.” He rests his head atop yours, mentally slipping into his past to reveal it to you.

“I was in foster homes until I was a teenager, went from house to house every few months. The people who'd come and take me home were either trying to get money from the state or looking for another helpless kid to work for them. I didn’t know it then but I wanted stability, I wanted someone that I could depend on but never got it. I ran away when I was a teenager and depended on my self and here I am.” You can hear a smile in his voice, but you’d dare to say it was pain out of pain.

“It’s all blue, blue can mean stability or loyalty, that’s how I see it.” He let’s his hands slide down your arms and back up to your shoulders to give them a squeeze. “Also, we made it together, so that’s special in itself. Now, your turn,”

“Um,” You purse your lips, “it’s nice...” You answer as if you didn’t know any other words, you’ve never been good with speaking anyway. You rather write paragraphs than ramble on.

“It is,” He agrees, “but how does it make you feel?”

“I don’t know,” You frown, pulling his arms off so you can walk off, “it’s just a painting.” It’s cold not having his arms around you but you reason that you need the shock.

You don’t want to start thinking deep, knowing about his past, sympathizing. You need to look like you don’t care. Does he buy it? Probably not, but sometimes he doesn’t like to force you to talk, it puts you in a foul mood and he notices.

“Just when I think you’re about to open up,” He tsks, shaking his head, “you remind me of the situation, and how you want so badly to make this uncomfortable for both of us.” His cheery mood is faded and you know you screwed this up.

You defend yourself nonetheless. “I’m not trying to make this uncomfortable for anyone, I’m already uncomfortable.”

“You’re such a liar,” He turns you to face him and steps in front of you to eliminate the space, “a bad one though.” You look up at him, trying not to let him intimidate you into backing down.

“I’m not lying.” Wow, that’s the best defense you could come up with.

“You are,” He pushes his hand through his hair, a stressed furrow in his dark brows, “I’m glad we ended up with each other, really I am. But when you act like this, I can’t say it doesn’t hurt a little,” He leans down, breathing against the apple of your cheek almost. “because I know it’s not how you really feel.”

Taking his time, he looks your face other, and this is what kills him the most. He gets so close to your face and everything in him wants you to lean in, he waits for the moment that you lean in and eliminate the space between you two.

Ding dong. You’re saved when the doorbell rings and you use this as your chance to slip away from him. He drops his head and sighs, this was bound to happen, he sort of regrets approaching you anyway. When he leaves he closes the door and leaves you wishing he was anyone else. You could hate anyone else right now.

When he checked the cameras on his phone, he was surprised to see that it was non-other than Park Jimin, what does he want? The bell rings for the second time and he rushes to silence it.

“Kim,” The man smiles, and Taehyung takes in his casual attire, meaning he was off today just like him, “I was beginning to think something happened to you,” His eyes intermediately go to Taehyung’s blue-tinted hands, “sorry to drop in unannounced like this.”

Taehyung makes an offended expression almost, he can’t hide his physical reaction to the concern, it seemed fake. “Didn’t have my phone on me, what do you need? It’s my day off,” His tone isn’t rude, but genuinely confused.

“I, uh,” Jimin rakes his mind for the story he’s supposed to tell, “my cuff-links! I left them in the bathroom that night,” His smile looks a bit too plastered, and when Taehyung doesn’t invite him in he let’s out a nervous laugh, “they’re expensive okay, rubies, can I grab’em?”

Taehyung opens the door wider so he can come in. He just hopes you have enough caution to stay hidden until Jimin leaves.

“So,” Oh no, he’s making conversation, “been doing some painting?” Jimin disappears into the small hall where the bathroom is to get his “cuff-links,” or so he says. Assuming Taehyung was hiding someone in the house, that evidence wouldn’t be in the guest bathroom. He has to stay in there a little longer, he hasn’t looked around well enough.

“I was,” He was trying to do a little more than that.

“Found’em,” He opens his hands to show the cuff-links that he planted just now, “Hey, can I get some water?”

“Sure,” Tae goes to the sink to wash his hands and Jimin leans on the large marble island, waiting patiently. Two plates. That’s the first abnormality that he notices. Two place-mats at the table and two sets on dishes in the sink, but it doesn't seem like he’s had any guest, there’s no car in the driveway.

“Y’know, I heard about that missing girl, one of your targets,” Jimin throws it out there, seeing if he’ll take the bait and give a reaction, “I bet that’s stressful.”

“It’ll blow over,” He opens the covert and takes out a glass, “how did you know she was my target?”

Damn, he shouldn’t have said that,

“You know I’m close with Minho, he mentioned it. He said it wasn’t your fault though, the investigators have an outside party helping, that’s why it’s not closing as fast. I have a little question for you,” He grins, “you don’t have to answer but Minho said it was a young girl, a writer, apart of a multiple target case, how did you do it?”

Taehyung sets the glass in front of him. “It doesn’t matter how I did it, as long as it’s done.”

“You’re as stiff as they come, Kim,” Jimin decides to lay off before Taehyung grows anymore suspicious, “I don’t do target eliminations but if I did, I would spill some details sometimes.” He takes a few gulps of water and looks at Taehyung who hasn’t stopped staring at him for the last few seconds.

“Well, thanks for the water,” He makes his way to the front door and Taehyung is more than happy to walk him out.

“You’re welcome,” He watches Jimin pass through the door and when he sees him get in his car, he closes the door with a sigh of relief.

He doesn’t go into his art studio for hours after Jimin leaves. He settles for busying himself with going over his next assignment over twenty times.

It’s getting harder and harder to keep this up, he never thought he’d get to this point. Something wasn’t right about that, Jimin isn’t his friend, and he’s never approached him like this—he knows something. When he makes his way upstairs, he tries to brush it off but here you are in his sanctuary to remind him.

“You were gone for a long time, who was that here earlier?” You mumble, barely sparing him a glance from your gaze off the balcony.

“No one you need to worry about,” He’s upset, that much you can tell, “I need you to go back to the basement for a little while, so you need to use the bathroom and eat.”

“What?” You can’t be hearing him correctly. “But why?...”

“Because I said so,” He stands in the doorway, arms crossed and posture uninterested, “let’s not have a repeat of last time,”

“But I haven’t done anything wrong...” The light drains from your eyes and anxiety pits in your stomach. “Is this because I wouldn't tell you what I felt about the painting?... Taehyung, I-”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” You walk inside and tears start to burn at your eyes instantly. You walk over to him and look to him with pleading eyes, hoping he’ll find it in his heart to change his mind. “Taehyung, I hate being down there, I’ll go to the other room, I won’t bother you...Please just don’t make me stay down there.” Tears stream down your cheeks and

“There’s an outside investigator who’s looking for you, the police are looking for you, and soon enough the man who hired me will be looking for you too. I’m trying to protect you and make you comfortable but you only like the benefits of getting close to me, you don’t actually appreciate that I’m giving you so much.” His tone is cold, no longer filled with that tinge of adoration and warmth.

“I do appreciate it!” You didn’t think he’d get so upset, you’re trying to save yourself now. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t-”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” He cuts you off, hands reaching for your arms but missing when you pull away. He grabs your arms with more than enough force and pulls you to him, and this time it hurts, “Don’t fucking pull away from me.”

“B- but,” You whine, wiping your tears as you try to comprehend why he’s acting like this all of a sudden. “Taehyung, please-”

“Shut up!” He lashes out, eyes dark and voice louder than it’s ever been before as his grip on you just tightens. “Stop whining like you’re hurting because you’ve made me feel a lot worse than this. You think I don’t notice what you’re doing? I’ve let you push and pull for as I could,” The volume in his voice seems to increase his physical size somehow and decrease your own, “but your little game isn’t fun anymore, I’m fucking sick of it now.”

“But I’m not-” You try to speak but he clamps a hand over your mouth and the horror of your worse nightmare washes over you. He’s trying to hurt you.

“Be quiet.” He walks forward until your back is pushed up against the wall, letting his hand fall from your mouth slowly so he can take your trembling wrist in his hands.

“All this time, there was so much I could have done, that I’ve wanted to do, but I’ve waited patiently...” By the way he keeps biting the inside of his cheek, it’s clear that he’s teetering on the edge of something.

“You’ve been starting to want it too and that’s why you push me away so hard, for some reason you like to deprive yourself.” He cracks a smile and looks up at you’re teary eyes, cooing at the sight of you falling apart.

“But you won’t admit that to yourself, or me. So, the best thing I can do for us is to lock you back up.” You shake your hand but he nods, a cynical glint in his gaze when you lean your head back to stop some of your tears.

“Why’re you shaking your head no? That’s what has to happen. Here’s how it’ll work; I’ll blindfold you so you don’t even have to see me and I won’t have to see those pretty eyes anymore. Maybe even gag you so I don’t have to hear your sweet little voice say another word. Then I’d have the pleasure of taking you upstairs and giving you a bath each and every day, you wouldn't want to see scary-Taehyung, right? So that blindfold will have to stay on. You’ll just have to trust that the only eyes and hands on you are my own. And every day I’d come down to feed you and you’d know that I’d make your life a living hell if you dared say one word. There would only be a hand full of sounds I would allow you to make,” He tilts his head, amazed by how much color had left your face.

“How does that sound? You wouldn’t have to be around the big scary-Taehyung anymore, is that what you want?”

Your lips tremble when you attempt to open your mouth and say something, it’s too scary. He’s scary. All this time, you’ve been waiting this out, trying so hard to stay calm and get close, but not too close. And this is the result.

“Answer me.” You shake your head, fearing the sobs that would erupt from your mouth if you spoke. But he doesn’t care, “Ah-ah, I’m not gonna treat you like a little baby just yet, answer me with your words.”

“N- no...” You push out your answer, chest heaving from trying to breathe through your cries.

“No,” He scoffs, mocking your answer, “well had you been the target for anyone other than me, that’s what would have happened to you. You either trust me, or you don’t, you can’t have it in the middle anymore.” Hands still firm on your arms and knee still anchored against you so you can’t move, it’s suffocating. “You have to choose, do you trust me or not?”

“I- I trust you...” You sniffle, nose burning red and your sight blurred from your tears.

“Ah, I don’t believe you,” He drops his hands from you, “I think you need to learn your lesson in the basement until I think you can be honest-”

“No!” You throw your arms around his waist and wail into his chest like a baby. “I- I trust you! I do, please don’t put me down there-” You hiccup, “I’m sorry, I really do trust you, I know you’re only trying to protect me, I get that now. I- I just want to stay with you, I wanna be with you.”

You want to be with him, a sentence he never thought he’d hear you say. He was just trying to scare you into revealing your true feelings but he didn’t expect you to cave that fast. He returns your affection, wrapping his arms around you gently. “Yeah, that’s what you really want?” You nod vigorously, your grip around him so tight it would take a hundred men to pull you off.

“Yes,” You look up at him, and just the quick, the Taehyung that you know is back. Those soft eyes, that gentle smile that wants nothing but to see you smile, make you happy. This is the only Taehyung you ever want to see.

He caresses your hair, pushing it back from your flushed face. The way you’re staring up at him, it makes him feel like you’re the only people in the universe and he’s swimming in a galaxy made of the stars in your eyes. He wants to eliminate that little space. But you beat him to it. You’re on your tippy-toes and that pesky little space is eliminated and he plunges face-first into the seventh heaven that is you. You have to show him and yourself that you trust him, you want to prove it. Your eyes are sealed tight and you’ve given up all control in favor of him doing as he pleases.

“Mh,” He leans down to lessen your reach and puts your hands around his neck. Breathless, his lips start to tingle and he bites down to regain a more familiar feeling. You’re so soft, just like he imagined. It’s all too much but not enough all at once.

He carried you away with loving arms, leaving all of his feelings to tip over like a bucket of paint and spill over the blue-stained sheets

* * *

“Hey boss, I went to his place this morning,” Jimin finally got the call from Minho, “did I see anything? Not really. There were two placemats at the table, two sets of dishes, it kind of looked like he had someone over but there was no one that I could see. Maybe he had someone over last night, I don’t really know,”

“Did you ask about the target?”

“I did, but he gave me a bland answer. He said it doesn’t matter how it’s done as long as it’s done, his usual, sorry I couldn’t be more of more help,” Minho thanks him for his efforts before hanging up the phone.

“I’m just so scared for her,” She plucks her third tissue from the box in front of her, “I haven’t slept in days.”

Jin drove all this way to sit with your mother, he called her and she said her husband out on business. He couldn’t imagine being alone when your child is missing, the thought alone hurt.

“It’ll be alright,” Jin sits at with your mother, who at one point he thought had a chance of being his mother-in-law. “They’re doing everything they can to find her, she’s a fighter.” He grasps her hand.

“I know,” She sighs, crumpling up the tissue and throwing it in the bin, “you came all this way, have you eaten? I feel like cooking something.”

“I wouldn’t want to make you-”

“Please, I know you have the same favorite meal as Y/n, let me make it for you.”

“Alright, thank you,” He smiles, watching her leave to the kitchen with a bit more light in her eyes. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he slips it out.

Min Yoongi: I talked to Suzy today and I can almost guarantee that her being missing is related to the handful of reporters who died at a conference she attended a few months ago. Why she was the only person that went missing makes me suspect an alternative motive. I’ll update you if anything changes.

Yoongi slips his phone back in his pocket and walks into the police station, it’s late but he hopes the cop over your case is still in. When he walks up to the front desk and asks, the receptionist points him into the direction of the person he’s looking for.

“Min,” The man smiles, extending his hand and dropping his conversation with the Sargent in front of him.

“Cha Eunwoo, so you’re the lucky guys on this case,” Yoongi has known Eunwoo since his days at the academy. He went FBI and Eunwoo went police department, both choosing paths that fit them the best in the end.

“Yeah,” He scratches the back of his neck, dismissing the guy he was talking to, “I know you’re working alongside us, a personal favor?”

“Something like that, is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

Yoongi doesn’t notice, but there’s a pair of lingering eyes that watch him and Eunwoo moves to his office.

“What’s going on?”

“I talked with the girl's supervisor today,” Yoongi walks around the desk, looking out at the pretty sunset, “I was informed that she went missing the exact same day an article of hers was supposed to be published. This article held details from the conference that have never been revealed. The article's physical and digital copies are gone. Cha, this doesn’t seem like you’re average missing persona case, there’s something bigger going on,” he rests his hands on his hips, bottom-lip tucked between his teeth. “I don’t want to tell her family that just yet, not until I’m sure.”

“You know what,” Eunwoo makes a thoughtful expression, “you could be right. There has been speculation around this case that the abduction was planned for a while now, I think for her sake we should look into that. Thank you Min, this could really change the nature of this case and it’s probably gonna get bigger, especially if we bring the parties at the conference into question.”

Jaemin was hanging outside of the hallway but runs to the restroom when he hears footsteps approach the door. When he’s sure there’s no one else in the stalls he frantically pulls out his phone and makes a call.

“Hello?”

“The case is about to blow up, the PI is onto us and I think the organization is about to be in jeopardy.”

“Damn it,” He sighs, “what do you suggest we do?”

“You have to tell Kim to reveal the body.”

#taehyung smut #taehyung stalker au #taehyung angst #taehyung scenarios #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #bts angst #bts au #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic #taehyung assassin #bts assassin au #don't breathe

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lesetoilesfous · 3 years

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Btw since today I’m apparently in the mood for controversial posts, and I’ve been seeing a lot of bullshit recently -

I identify as pansexual. I do not, and have never, done so because I think bisexuality precludes trans people. That’s bullshit.

For me, I identify as pansexual because I experience no difference in my levels of romantic / sexual attraction to people of various genders, whereas my friends and partners who have identified as bisexual do.

For example: my ex girlfriend was sexually attracted to all genders, but only romantically attracted to women (including trans women, TERFs fuck off.) My best friend is sexually attracted to all genders, but mostly romantically attracted to men (including trans men, TERFs fuck off.)

A lot of my bisexual friends and partners express different levels of sexual and romantic attraction / desire to various genders. My pansexual friends, like me, have never ‘felt’ that difference. For me having sex with a person who identifies with the same gender as me does not feel different At All emotionally to doing so with someone of a different gender. So I identify as pansexual.

I use bisexual and pansexual interchangeably, because I hate that bisexual is used as a dirty word, I feel that some definitions of it Do apply to me, and it has a pretty flag. I also call myself gay and queer, because people often assume I’m straight and that makes me uncomfortable, and unfortunately due to biphobia and panphobia, sometimes you just have to hit the str8s over the head with your homosexuality. Sometimes I’m more comfortable in LGBT+ spaces saying I’m gay/queer than dealing with the toxic bullshit around bisexuality/pansexuality. Sometimes I’ve flirted with girls who’ve literally said they don’t date bi girls because “they’re more likely to cheat”, and saying I’m gay feels like the safer option.

As cleverer and more outspoken people than I have said: other queer people are not your enemy. Straight homophobes are. Homophobic policy makers are. Homophobic law enforcement is. It’s tempting to attack other marginalised people because it’s less frightening than taking on The Establishment, but bear under no illusion: you are a lobster in a pot who is party to your own oppression when you do this.

The only way you get out of the bucket is if you stop attacking other victims and focus on the goddamn wall.

#pansexuality #bisexuality #lgbtq #lgbtqplus #biphobia #panphobia

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danurso · 4 years

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That's pretty D.U.M.B

Part 0 - Part 1 - Part 2

After the explosion occurred, the room was filled with a light blue mist.

Ruby: *cough* *cough* what was that!?

Yang: i can't see anything! Can someone open *cough* *cough* the window!?

Pyrrha: found it! *open window allowing the smoke to leave the classroom.

Jaune: what the hell was that?

Oobleck: no idea mr.arc *looking around the room, which is still intact, just filled with smoke* but apparently the explosion didn't damaged anything.

Weiss: *gets up, massaging her head* oww, tell that to my head. I said this was stupid, and apparently it didn't give any results.

Jaune: what the hell are you already whining about princess?

RWBY/Pyrrha: *freezes*

Ruby: jaune?

Jaune: *leaving the smoke, with a different armor on and a scar on his left eye* what do you want now reddish? I'm not in the mood to- *freezes and looks at weiss, walking her way and holding her face*

Weiss: *blushes* w-what are you-

Jaune: *with a shocked expression* what happened to your eye? What is this scar?

Weiss: *breaks free* what? Shouldn't we be asking you this? besides, don't ever touch me without my permission again!

Jaune: *confused* . . .what bite your rich ass today princess? *looks back at oobleck with a scowl* was it you with your crazy inventions again?

Oobleck: *confused* mr.arc? Is this really you?

Jaune: and who else could i be? Did you broke your glasses or all that coffee finally fucked up your brain?

Ruby: jaune. . .what happened to you?

Jaune: the hell are you talking about reddi-

Jaune: *normal jaune, leaving the smoke massaging his head* oww, was that thing supposed to throw me away like that?

Weiss: *leaving the smoke too, this weiss however doesn't have a scar and her ponytail isn't to the side like usual* *whining* oww, my head hurts.

RWBY/Pyrrha: *speechless*

Oobleck: IT WORKED!!!

Jaune: what work- *stops, staring at the other version of himself and to weiss before looking at the weiss on his side* w-wait, what? Why is there other me here!?

Alternative Weiss: *looking between the jaunes* *gasp* jaune! There's two of you!

(A)Jaune: *with crossed arms* don't tell me princess, i'm not fucking blind.

(A)Weiss: *taking a closer look at jaune, with a large smile and stars in her eyes* he's just like you! Just scraggly and without the scar!

(A)Jaune: i can see that.

(A)Weiss: *bolts to her normal version* look! This me has a scar just like yours! I look kinda cool with it.

(A)Jaune: two princesses, this probably the worst day of my life.

(A)Weiss: or the best one, imagine having two me's around.

(A)Jaune: *deadpans* it would be twice as annoying.

(A)Weiss: yeah, but you would get twice the affection. *gives him a sweet smile*

(A)Jaune: . . . *looks away with a pink on his cheeks* shut up, will you?

(A)Weiss: *grinning happily*

Yang: . . .okay, that's kinda disturbing. Why is that ice queen so nice and that vomit boy so mean?

Oobleck: it's simple miss xiao long, these versions of mister arc and miss schnee are from a world different from ours, and if you think about the infinite possibilities of the multiverse, there are probably many other versions of them besides those.

Jaune: w-wait, so he's me from another universe?

Oobleck: Precisely! The D.U.M.B worked perfectly! And thanks to it we can meet these alternative versions of you two.

(A)Jaune: what the hell are you talking about? And what is going on?

Oobleck: *ahem* i'm sorry for disturbing you two with this experiment, but this place is a dimension different from your original one.

(A)Jaune: . . .*raises eyebrow* did someone put vodka on your coffee or have you always been crazy like that?

Oobleck: i can assure you mister arc that i'm very sober and sane. *points at D.U.M.B* you see this device here? It's a dimensional and universal magical bridge, but you can call it D.U.M.B to shorten.

(A)Weiss: *snort* dumb.

(A)Jaune: *rolls his eyes* it had to be.

Oobleck: this is the device that allowed us to bring you two to our universe.

(A)Jaune: so let me get this straight, you used this weird machine to bring us here, a world different from ours.

(A)Weiss: that's so cool! it's just like that show rick and morty!

Weiss: what?

(A)Weiss: you don't have rick and morty here?

Ruby: we do! And it's such a cool show!

(A)Weiss: i know! It's one of my favorites!

(A)Weiss/Ruby: *start blabbering*

Weiss: this is. . .very disturbing.

Yang: i don't know, i kinda like nice weiss, she's just like you but probably doesn't have a log stuck up on her ass.

Weiss: who are you calling stuck up you idiot!?

(A)Jaune: i don't know which one is worse, the one who keeps shrieking all the time or the one who has way too much energy. *sighs, looking back to oobleck* when are we going back to our world?

Oobleck: you'll be back in a few moments mr. Arc, D.U.M.B has a time limit of half an hour. Meanwhile, i just wanted to know if you and ms.schnee could answer a few questions before going back to your world?

(A)Jaune: not interested.

(A)Weiss: sure thing!

Oobleck: Stupendous! So, i wanted to know if there's a glaring difference from your world compared to this one?

(A)Weiss: *looking around* hmm. . .no, everything looks the same.

Oobleck: *writing on a notebook* i see.

(A)Weiss: *looks to the group and raises an eyebrow* why is blake wearing a bow though?

Blake: *flinches and starts sweating*

Yang: she always wears that bow, even to sleep. Why? Your blake doesn't use a bow?

(A)Weiss: wait, so they don't know about. . .

Blake: *shakes head*

(A)Weiss: o-oh, *sheepishly* sorry.

Yang: wait, do you know something we don't?

(A)Weiss: err. . .no, nothing! Blake will tell everyone when she's ready.

Yang: what is she hiding? *looks at blake* now i'm curious.

Blake: n-nothing.

(A)Weiss: blake is really quiet here.

(A)Jaune: she's always been quiet.

(A)Weiss: i know, she just looks more quiet then our blake.

Ruby: so your blake is different too?

(A)Weiss: not really, she's just a bit more. . . 'Open' about herself. Everyone looks the same aside from her, well, except me and jaune of course.

Ruby: but why are you two so different? Why are you so nice compared to our weiss?

Weiss: hey! I am nice!

Yang: *cough, cough* like a punch in the gut *cough, cough*

(A)Weiss: well. . .i don't really know, i just try to be myself, that's what my dad always told me.

Weiss: wait, your dad told you to be yourself?

(A)Weiss: *smiling* yup!

Weiss: and not to be something you don't want to be?

(A)Weiss: what? No! daddy would never do that, he hates people who control their children for their own benefit.

Weiss: *shocked* . . .is your father really jacques schnee?

(A)Weiss: that's his name.

Weiss: . . .can you tell me more about your- our family?

(A)Weiss: sure! My mom is always helping my dad with his business at the emprise, my older sister winter is one of the biggest designers of atlas, my little brother whitley is studying most of the time to be a good business man like dad but he always takes some time to have fun with us, and even helps me by playing piano in my concerts, and dad is the head of the SDC, the biggest and most controversial emprise in remnant.

Weiss: controversial?

(A)Weiss: unfortunately, yes. People in atlas are selfish and try to maintain a certain 'status-quo', humans rule and faunus suffer, but my dad's emprise treats everyone the same and helps faunus that suffer to rise and have a good life, but unfortunately for us, the rest of atlas doesn't share his vision and treats him and my family terribly, this lack of respect with my family's name is one of the main reasons why i decided to be a huntress.

Blake: *eyes wide* w-wait, so in your world, jacques schnee isn't a racist?

(A)Weiss: what!? No! My father dreams with the peace between humans and faunus, he even made an alliance with the leader of the white fang, ghira bell- i mean, with their leader ghira to help them on their movement for equality, my father is their biggest supporter. Why are you asking that? Isn't dad like this here?

Weiss: no, our dad here unfortunately isn't so noble. He only cares for profits and hates faunus, probably just as much as he hates his family.

(A)Weiss: wait, what?

Weiss: he forced me to do everything he wanted ever since i was young, even used my voice to profit. My mom is a drunkard who never leaves her room, whitley is dad's puppet and is becoming just as rotten as he is and winter is a specialist at atlas military.

(A)Weiss: w-what!? dad can't be bad like that, i-it doesn't make sense.

Weiss: he is, i guess that's why you and me are so different, you had an way easier life.

(A)Weiss: wow, this sounds so sad. . .wait, does that means your version of jaune had an easier life too?

Everyone: *looks at jaune*

Jaune: err. . .yeah, i mean, my life was pretty easy if you don't count the annoying sisters and how my parents didn't wanted me to be a huntsman.

(A)Jaune: *raises eyebrow* your parents didn't wanted you to be a huntsman?

Jaune: not really, i tried to convince dad to train me when i was younger but he never let me, so i just had a normal life until my seventeen years.

(A)Jaune: lucky you, looks like you at least had a happy life.

Jaune: so. . .what happened in my life that made my like this?

(A)Jaune: i don't wanna talk about it.

Jaune: but-

(A)Jaune: *glaring at him* no buts, just zip it.

Jaune: *terrified* o-okay.

(A)Jaune: . . . *looks to the side* what do you want?

(A)Weiss: *holding his hand* come on, tell him.

(A)Jaune: i don't want to.

(A)Weiss: come on, pleeease.

(A)Jaune: i said no already.

(A)Weiss: *hugs his arm* pleeease. . .for me? *gives him a puppy look*

(A)Jaune: . . . *sigh* i fucking hate you princess.

(A)Weiss: *with a victorious smile* no, you love me.

(A)Jaune: keep dreaming. well. . .where do i start, my mom died when i was five because of a disease and since then my asshole sperm-donor raised me, he trained me to be a champion and forced me into several tournaments to make me stronger, he locked me away from my sisters so i wouldn't have any distractions during my training, said training that pushed me to my absolute agonizing limits. When i was fourteen i had enough and fought him off, but he defeated me and gave me this scar as a reminder of how weak i am compared to him, then when i turned seventeen i joined beacon where i became partners with an annoying ball of unlimited joy.

(A)Weiss: that's me!

Yang: wow. . .that's really dark.

Jaune: is dad really that bad in your world? He was always so soft with everyone that is kind of hard imagining him like that.

(A)Jaune: take a wild guess dumbass. *points at the scar in his eye* what kind of good father would do this to his kid?

Jaune: yeah. . .guess you got a point.

Pyrrha: wait, did you say that weiss was your partner at beacon?

(A)Jaune: unfortunately, yes. This idiot who never even trained before and didn't even had aura had the great idea to buy some transcripts and join beacon, i didn't wanted her as my partner but since she was aimlessly flying into her death during initiation, i had to save her ass and become her partner.

Weiss: . . .by any chance, am i retarded on your dimension?

(A)Weiss: HEY!

(A)Jaune: probably. What kind of sane person would be stupid enough to do that?

Pyrrha: this story sounds. . .very familiar.

Jaune: *sheepishly* i-it does.

(A)Jaune: who did i got partnered with here?

Jaune: pyrrha.

(A)Jaune: lucky you, different from princess here, pyrrha knows her limits.

(A)Weiss: you talk like me being your partner is the worst thing in the world.

(A)Jaune: because it is. you're reckless, annoying, stupid, ignorant, selfish, suicidal and-

(A)Weiss: and you still love me regardless.

(A)Jaune: . . . *looks away* i don't know what you're talking about.

(A)Weiss: yes you do, im talking about this. *tiptoes and kisses his cheek*

(A)Jaune: *recoils and blushes* what the hell are you doing!?

(A)Weiss: i'm giving you a kiss. Why? you wanted it to be on the lips?

(A)Jaune: like hell i would want that, princess.

(A)Weiss: hmm. . .

(A)Jaune: what are you doing?

(A)Weiss: *tiptoeing, reaching out her lips for him* waiting for you to kiss me.

(A)Jaune: i don't want to kiss you.

(A)Weiss: hmm. . .

(A)Jaune: stop it already dumbass, you're just embarrassing yourself.

(A)Weiss: hmm. . .

(A)Jaune: *looks back to her*

(A)Weiss: *still waiting for him*

(A)Jaune: *pink* . . .i fucking hate you. *leans down and kisses her.*

(A)Weiss: *returning the kiss*

(A)Jaune: *wraps hands on her waist and pulls her closer*

(A)Weiss: *deepening the kiss*

Yang: well. . .that's a scene i never thought i would see.

Ruby/Blake: *nods*

Pyrrha: *nods as well but with an way more forced and scary smile*

Jaune: *blushing*

Weiss: *red and mortified* w-what are you two doing!?

(A)Weiss: *giggles* sorry, sometimes we get lost in the mood.

(A)Jaune: 'we'? You're the one always dragging me into this stuff.

(A)Weiss: i'm not the one who drags you away after a hard day just so we can make out on a empty classroom.

(A)Jaune: *red* can't you just stay shut for five seconds princess!?

(A)Weiss: *smiling brightly* nope.

Yang: wait, wait, wait, are you two like, dating?

(A)Jaune/(A)Weiss: no/yes.

Weiss: h-how is that possible!? What do you even see on this idiot!?

(A)Jaune: *glaring at her* i made my mind, you're the one i hate the most.

(A)Weiss: what's there not to see on him? I mean, yeah, he is always being mean to other peoples but thats cause he had a rough life, the real jaune buried under all that anger is really kind and sweet. He was the first person that believed that i could be a huntress, he teached me how to fight and picked me up whenever i thought about giving up. *hugs his arm* he was the first guy that loved me for who i am and that's why i love him so much. *looks at him* Right?

(A)Jaune: *looks away, face totally red* speak for yourself, i don't know what you're talking about.

Weiss: i can't believe you. . .how did that even happened!?

(A)Weiss: you mean how we got together? Well it was during the ball at beacon, neptune invited me to go but i refused.

Weiss: YOU WHAT!?

(A)Weiss: i refused. *pink* i was hoping that a certain someone would invite me.

(A)Jaune: hmph.

(A)Weiss: but well, things didn't went like i wanted and i went to the ball alone. I stayed there for some time but gave up and went to the rooftop to take a breather, that's where i found jaune.

(A)Jaune: yeah, i was enjoying the peace and the silence until you showed up.

(A)Weiss: *chuckles* He was being grumpy because he heard neptune inviting me and thought i had accepted.

(A)Jaune: i wasn't being grumpy because he invited you, i just hate that guy's guts.

(A)Weiss: we cleared some things up and i invited him to dance a bit, we danced on our own for some time and talked a bit, he complimented me for the first time ever since i met him and even admitted that i was someone important in his life *with a wide smile and rosy cheeks* i was so happy that i gave him my first kiss without even thinking about it.

Yang: aww, that's so cute.

(A)Jaune/Weiss: *red* SHUT IT!

Weiss: that's enough, we don't wanna hear anything else about this!

Yang: speak for yourself ice queen, keep going nice queen!

(A)Weiss: well. . .i was a bit scared at first but when he kissed me back i got a lot calmer, we kept kissing for some time and things got. . .a bit out of control.

Blake: *very interested* what do you mean with 'out of control?'

(A)Weiss: *red* err. . .well, w-we got a bit carried away and kept kissing until we were back to our room, and when we got there we did. . .*ten times redder* couple stuff.

Weiss: wait, so you just went and slept with him like that!?

(A)Weiss: yeah. *sheepishly* i know someone's first time should be something we think about carefully, but on that day all i could think of was how happy i was that jaune was my first. *hugs his arm* and until this day, i never once regretted that decision. *smiles at him*

(A)Jaune: *red* t-that's enough! *turns to oobleck* how the hell do we go back to our world!?

Oobleck: all you need to do is place your hands on the D.U.M.B or wait for the thirty minute mark. But before you leave, i still have some que-

(A)Jaune: fuck your questions, we're leaving princess.

(A)Weiss: sure. Just give me a moment. *goes to weiss* can i talk to you for a second?

Weiss: what do you want to talk about!?

(A)Weiss: wait. *holds her and drags her to the farthest corner, away from the group*

Weiss: what do you want?

(A)Weiss: i just needed to know, are you and jaune dating?

Weiss: W-what!? No! And we never will!

(A)Weiss: i see, i think i understand now.

Weiss: good thing that you understand, now please leave.

(A)Weiss: you like him.

Weiss: *blushes* i don't like him! I hate him!

(A)Weiss: *chuckles* you're just like jaune when i first met him. He was closed, distant and very cold with everyone, and he said he hated me all the time, but that was just him trying to keep his guard up, trying to protect his damaged heart from even more damage.

Weiss: what are you talking about?

(A)Weiss: what i'm talking is that just like my jaune, you're putting up barriers and keeping people away to avoid getting hurt, but maybe you don't need these barriers to be up all the time, maybe all you need is to let in someone who can help you heal.

Weiss: let me guess, someone like arc.

(A)Weiss: maybe. I'm dating jaune for awhile now and despite he still being much like his older self, i can't see myself being more happy with anyone else that isn't him. I know i might be biased but seeing that the only difference between us is that our roles were inverted, i think you wouldn't regret being with someone like jaune. Just think about it, didn't you ever noticed anything that jaune may have done just to see you happy?

Weiss: well. . . *gets a small flashback about the ball and neptune telling her everything jaune said*

(A)Weiss: sooo?

Weiss: i-i don't know, nothing comes to my mind. And look, i don't care what your reasoning is, i am not going to date arc.

(A)Weiss: well, i can't force you to do anything really, but if you can, just give him a chance *with a sincere smile* i know you won't regret.

Weiss: *sighs, rubbing her temples* if i tell you i'll think about it, will you go away?

(A)Weiss: sure thing!

Weiss: then i'll think about it, just please leave me alone.

(A)Weiss: okay, see'ya then me! *goes back to the group, joining jaune and hugging his chest* missed me?

(A)Jaune: no.

(A)Weiss: i missed you too my archangel.

(A)Jaune: *pink* didn't i told you to stop using this stupid nickname?

(A)Weiss: *chuckles* oops, sorry.

(A)Jaune: *sigh* let's just leave for god's sake. *places hand on the D.U.M.B*

(A)Weiss: *also places her hand on the D.U.M.B*

They both slowly start to get surrounded by a light blue aura, just like when jaune and weiss first used it.

(A)Weiss: bye everyone, It was really nice to meet you.

Yang: same, it was really good to see how weiss would be if she wasn't always on her period.

Weiss: YANG!!!

(A)Weiss: and weiss!

Weiss: *looks back at her* what?

(A)Weiss: just one chance, i promise you won't regret.

Weiss: i already said i'll think about it, i'm not going to make any promises.

(A)Weiss: that's already good enough, bye me!

Weiss: goodbye.

(A)Jaune/(A)Weiss: *vanishes*

Blake: well. . .that was something.

Jaune: i-it really was.

Ruby: weiss?

Weiss: yes?

Ruby: what did you and the other you talked about?

Weiss: well. . . *glances at jaune for a moment before looking away slightly* i-it was nothing okay? just something stupid.

Ruby: oh, okay.

Pyrrha: so, what do we do now professor?

Oobleck: we continue with the experiment of course! Meeting these alternative versions of mr.arc and ms.schnee was interesting but there are a lot of questions that need answers!

Weiss: i-i'm not going to use that machine again!

Oobleck: you wouldn't be able to use it even if you wanted ms.schnee. The D.U.M.B can't be used by the same person twice in a row, that rule goes for everyone except mr.arc of course!

Jaune: okay, but why does this machine needs me so much to work? You said i'm some kind of axis but why-

Oobleck: I DON'T KNOW AND AT THE MOMENT I DON'T CARE MR.ARC!!! RIGHT NOW THERE'S ONLY ONE QUESTION YOU SHOULD BE ASKING!!!

Jaune: a-and it is?

Oobleck: *grins and looks at the girls* which one of you is going next!?

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #white knight #whiteknight #rwby white knight #weiss x jaune #weiss schnee #ruby rose #blake belladona #pyrrha nikos #bartholomew oobleck #jaune x harem #colorguard #That's pretty D.U.M.B

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the-velveteen-victorian · 3 years

Note

Elle can you explain what goth is? Google is really inconsistent and I’m having such a difficult time understanding it. When did you find out you were goth?

Definitely! This is a long response just so you are prepared. =) Goth is a music-based subculture. You are correct… Google is not a good resource for discovering what goth is. Unfortunately, a lot of “goth” guide books aren’t either (I know one of them features a lot of emo bands?). First off, let’s just get out of the way what goth is not. Goth is not emo or metal. Avenged Sevenfold, My Chemical Romance, and Pantera are not goth. Goth is not white supremacy. Yes, those of us with naturally pale skin sometimes strive to keep our skin tones light, but goth is a home to people of all skin/hair/eye colors. Anyone who says you can only be a pale, white person is disgusting. Goth is not associated with any religion, philosophy, political inclination, or specific belief system. There are Christian, Hindu, Atheist, New Age, Shinto, Muslim, Republican, Democrat, Green Party, pineapple on pizza, no pineapple on pizza goths. You get my point. =)

Wearing goth fashion does not make someone goth, no matter how great the outfit may be. I (and most goths, elder and younger) define goth as someone who has an intense interest and passion for goth music. That’s it. Sure, most of us will gravitate toward darker aesthetics and like to wear the fashion when we can, but it is absolutely NOT a requirement. That is what google gets so wrong. One of the goth ladies I know spends 80% of her time in scrubs. She loves her job as a nurse practitioner and she has to have a more conservative look while she is working. She can’t wear the fashion more often than a couple times a month. She listens to goth music every day and is super knowledgeable about it. Is she goth? Yes. Conversely, I know a lot of teenagers who are trying to figure out who they are (which is TOTALLY FINE). They actually do a really great job of diy-ing goth looks, but they do not listen to goth music at all. Most of them listen to metal, emo, or country music. Do I consider them goth? No. But I do not judge them for it. Music is about what speaks to you and goth is in no way superior to any other musical taste.

With the rise of “pastel goth” and fashion trends on tumblr/social media, I think a lot of people get misled. This is why it is so important to have some level of contact with the actual goth community. Covid showed us that it is possible to do this online! We can attend online goth nights, get the set lists and analyze goth club music trends from our homes, and have zoom dance sessions! I really love the flexibility and versatility that the pandemic revealed to the goth community… because a lot of goths don’t live in cities with a big goth scene.

How did I discover I was goth? By beautiful accident. =) I was 15, and I struggled to have any level of autonomy or self-expression at all. I grew up in a conservative family (Christian/religious) cult. That rabbit hole runs deep and is a separate story for another time. The point is that I had very limited contact with the outside world apart from my private school, church, and Christian-group violin lessons. However! I received a nano ipod from an extended family member for Christmas one year. I copied a bunch of CD’s from Christian acquaintances at my church and filled the ipod up with the generic contemporary Christian and overstimulating broadway musicals endemic to the culture around me… it was all I had. Then, one day I discovered a goth band. I had no idea they were a goth band. I was obsessed with their sound. I can’t remember which platform I found them on, but I remember I did not have a video with it… so I’m thinking I was on the itunes store. I had chills and for the first time every something felt “right” in the music world for me.

Goth music begets more goth music… Itunes recommended other bands like the one I had found. I only had the money to buy a few albums over the course of a year, but I would retitle the songs and albums as Christian or Disney compilations so that my parents would never suspect what I was listening to (they regularly went through my ipod to make sure I wasn’t listening to anything worldly). One day, I was listening to some of my goth music with another confirmed atheist at my private Christian school and he was like, “OMG I had no idea you were a goth!” I was super confused and was all like, “No, I’m not. I don’t even know what that is…” This guy was a metalhead, but he had a ton of goth friends and he gave me my first thorough education on everything goth. I was 15 at the time, and it was not until nearly 4 years later that I would escape my family and truly come to integrate in the goth community.

Long story short, I started out with the music with no clue about the fashion. I think I was very fortunate in that because it gave me time to develop my musical preferences and tastes without feeling pressured to fit into a tiny little box. Later, when I was free, I did develop a goth wardrobe and (of course) decorated my house in a dark romantic/Victorian style…. But I never felt like those things were vital to who I was as a goth. I’m really thankful for that.

Please understand, that I do not want to erase the incredible goth fashion magicians out there or diminish the hard work someone may put into their personal look or aesthetic. The goth aesthetic is the heartbeat behind the unparalleled, transcendent feeling I have in a goth club or just in my own bedroom. It definitely adds to the experience. All I am saying is that those things alone do not a goth make. I also grew up obsessed with (gothic) Victorian literature... it took me awhile to put 2 and 2 together for that one too lol.

My controversial opinion here is that I do believe that some level of gatekeeping is necessary to keeping goth alive today. Unfortunately, it is an endangered species as subcultures go… this is not because there are not any goths. It is because the mainstream has appropriated it and defined it as fashion ONLY, which then confuses people who go to the surface level of the internet to get answers… which then creates a whole following that erases what goth truly is.

However, I need to explain that when most people refer to gatekeeping, they are talking about bullying. I am defining gatekeeping as providing a definition for the heart of the goth movement and sticking to it. Bullying is never acceptable. Ever. The example I employ a lot utilizes musical genre as an example. Let’s say you put on a Carnifex t-shirt and wear it a lot. But…. You don’t listen to metal because it just is not your sound. You don’t talk to other people about metal music, seek out the aesthetic, have more than 2 songs on your phone with metal music, or (want) to attend metal events. Are you a metalhead? No, of course not. But are you inferior to metalheads because you choose to listen to classical and hip-hop music? No, of course not. Another example: Let’s say you don’t like coffee. You don’t regularly drink it, read about it, or have an interest in it. Are you a coffee enthusiast? No, of course not. Are you inferior to those who do drink coffee? No, of course not. But it would be ridiculous to feel pressured to fit the mold of a coffee enthusiast, right?

It is never wrong to define what something is and to stick to your guns on it as long as you do not cross over into elitist territory, thinking you are better than everyone else. That is the point I want to get across here. Goth fashion does own my heart, but I also sometimes dress in dark academia, cottagecore, dark mori, and even in 80’s retrofuturistic styles when the mood strikes me. It does not change my involvement in the goth community or erase my love for goth music.

Lastly, a question I get a lot (and I have addressed this in previous posts) is, “I am obsessed with goth music… I have a wide knowledge base that I have spent great amounts of time developing and it is my life… but I also like Lil Peep, Lady Gaga, ‘gothic’ metal, and Lana Del Rey. Am I still goth?” The answer is YES. Of course you are! Loving goth music and being obsessed doesn’t mean you can’t like other things. Anyone in the goth community who tells you have to ONLY listen to goth music is full of crap. Eighty percent of my ipod is goth music… I am lucky to have thousands of songs. (And by the way, if you cannot afford a lot of goth music, you are not less goth than the rest of us. Listening for free is just as valid.) The other twenty percent is classical and synthwave/cybersynth/retrowave/darkly inclined/spacewave/video game sountrack/cyberpunk-inspired stuff. Am I any less of a goth for also being obsessed with the retrowave community or for listening to bands that are darkly inclined but not quite goth? No, of course not. Also, you can be darkly inclined without being goth, and that is just as beautiful. =) My husband is darkly inclined and likes some goth music, but he is more involved in the horror community. He is no less valid and freaking awesome than I am.

I hope this makes sense! This is a subject I feel passionate about. Just to recap, the pillars of fashion, gothic literature, and general aesthetics are valid in the goth scene and contribute greatly to the structural integrity of the whole. However, the soul of goth is in the music. I have hearing loss myself and have a couple of friends who are completely deaf who also agree that the music is the soul of goth. The way they engage is by reading the lyrics and even going to goth clubs when they can to dance and feel the beat. =) I think that is beautiful and so amazing. Hearing disabilities do not disqualify you from the goth scene- anyone who says they do is garbage.

Here are a couple of videos explaining a bit about what goth music actually is. Let me know if you would like more resources! Angela Benedict did a video where she answered the question, “Can you be goth and not like the music?” Her answer is also no. She is a great youtuber to watch because she was there for the 90’s goth scene! It is so fun to hear her stories and learn about the elder goth generations. <3

Goth music is not just goth rock… there are SOOOOO many subgenres under the massive umbrella that is goth. It is a big universe to explore. =) If you would like a list of some of my favorite goth bands AND goth adjacent bands, then I can do a separate post for that- just ask! Thank you for tolerating my info-dumping. =) <3

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tKDo_j0O-hA&t=116s – Accumortis on goth music

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGj3CuAeW1w – Angela Benedict on goth music

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zg3HwuFlGeU&t=587s – Angela Benedict on defining goth

#whatisgoth #gothmusic #angelabenedict #accumortis #gothfashion

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

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hi! i just started reading your series particularly the storyline around namjoon x vixen and i’m really enjoying their dynamic so far bc it’s also what i’m personally interested in. but that being said i felt that it was necessary to mention that the book lolita specifically (which i saw was mentioned a couple times in their canon) shouldn’t be taken lightly as it’s been skewed from the authors intent by our society and has had ramifications that were still seeing today namely pedophilia. i’m not sending this ask to make u feel bad i only sincerely mean to educate as i recently learned about it too :// a friend of mine showed me ‘the lolita podcast’ which is on spotify and i was mortified to learn about the true depth of the book so yeah. while i personally am into certain kinks and am totally fine with other people having their own, i thought i would just warn abt that book in particular and how it’s unfortunately been misinterpreted by so many for so long

Thank you for making this clarification. Apparently I thought that the subtext was clear to everyone and I thought that I had transposed Vixen's character well enough to let everyone understand that she reads Lolita for what it is: a book that denounces disgusting, despicable behaviour and that every person that is involved in DDLG content and dynamics should read in order to understand the darkest, most dangerous sides of such topic. I am glad we can face this controversy.

If anyone would like, under the cut there is an in-depth analysis.

TRIGGER WARNING: discussion of controversial themes of Lolita, namely sexualisation of minors and pedophilia.

What is Lolita

Lolita is a novel written by Vladimir Nabokov, one of the most important authors of the 21st century.

The content

Basically, within the fiction of the novel, the book turns into the diary/defense of a criminal, who is undergoing trial as a pedophile after he became physically attracted to his step-daughter — who is a minor — and proceeded with running away with her after her mother's death, in an attempt to marry the girl. It is set in the USA during the mid-20th century. The man and his underage step-daughter explicitly get involved in sexual intercourse within the book. Through the book the man offers several excuses to pedophilia, even explicitly saying that it was the girl tempting him.

My statement on the book and its relevance within Namjoons' Love Talk

As a person who has read Lolita and has studied specifically the power dynamics in that book, I do not condone IN ANY WAY the sexualisation of minors, or ingaging in sexual acts with them, may them be consenting or not. Just so that we're clear.

I don't think that reading or studying Lolita means that one condones pedophilia, and a person like Vixen has surely read that book specifically because she thinks it's an important part of her culture that she needs to be aware of, just like one person would read books about the Holocaust to be aware of tragedies of the past and make sure that they do not repeat themselves. Lolita is not romanticised or idealised by Vixen. She is very aware of the content of the book. She read it because you need to know the good parts and the bad parts of your culture: knowing the bad parts allows you to know the risks and dangers of it and helps you stay away from acts and behaviours you do not condone.

Personally, I want to clear things up. Vladimir Nabokov was a Russian intellectual, reader and writer. It means he had a Russian perception of the role of literature, which is that of openly dealing with injustice and denounce acts that weren't all that uncommon back then. Lolita is a book that shows how despicable and how deprecable the mind of an abuser is. It was written to disgust people and to raise awareness against pedophilia, to improve regulations (the author openly names American States where at the time you could legally marry a minor. Nabokov wanted those states to be shamed! And many publishers didn't publish his book because they were afraid of political repercussions! They were afraid to show that their Patriotic, Free, Enlightened Country, aka America, The Land Of The Free, allowed and condoned such disgusting behaviour).

I am solidly aware of how much pedophilia and DDLG dynamics have often been brought in the same conversation.

I am glad this blog can be educational, after all. The important subtext here is that Vixen is an adult woman. And Namjoon is aware of that. Vixen thrives in her maturity and her wits and knowledge and confidence, which are traits of an adult woman. Namjoon knows that his partner is a grown up adult. The connotations of DDLG here are based exclusively on the power exchange between the characters, where one occupies an empowered, educational, caring space, while the other occupies a vulnerable, less empowered space. However, Vixen occupies this space with the maturity and the sexuality of a grown woman. And if I'm not mistaken, there are a few scenes in which she shows that although Namjoon is pretending to teach her something, he and she are both aware that she doesn't need such lesson. She simply feels like she needs a kind of guidance, and the first figure of guidance we meet in our lives are parenting figures, therefore the "daddy kink".

Now, regarding owning several translations of the same book: Vixen has lived abroad. And when you live abroad and you like reading, your key to the country is reading in their language. Vixen is a polyglot. She was brought up speaking three languages. Lolita is an interesting book for a polyglot because Nabokov himself was a polyglot. In my mind I can really see Vixen buying a text she knows — because she has read it carefully without any sort of lightness of heart — and reading it in her non-first languages once she goes abroad. I can see her reading it and confronting the different words that were used, the weight that every translator gave to the different statements and crimes that Humbert Humbert — the protagonist — has committed.

Now, the similarities between Vixen and Lolita begin and end in one thing. They are brats.

When Namjoon asks her about the books and the movie posters, Vixen says "are you asking me if I have a daddy kink or if I like owning multiple versions of the same book", and the reference to the daddy kink is her joking about the public perception of the book; still, this does not mean that that is her perception of the book. I do understand that her using irony as a coping machanism could be misinterpreted, but this doesn't affect her awareness on the themes of the book.

Vixen is moody, mercurial, playful once she gets into subspace — she toys around things like a girl, but she does so with the awareness of a grown woman; she decides to act childlike, coquettish and playful. She fools around like any of us do, and Namjoon likes the idea of conquering her, reassured by the fact that he has a grown woman in front of him, who has all the tools to tell him that she is not interested in starting a scene or behaving sexually in a specific moment. When she is in a bratty mood, she teases and provokes but never really follows through with her taunts. She needs Namjoon — her figure of guidance and responsibility — to actualise her empty threats. That is all she has in commons with Lolita. What is important is that they are two consenting adults, incredibly aware of how dangerous their games could be if they were even a bit less morally and culturally aware or even slightly less prepared.

I hope this gave you all you needed to know, nonnie. If you — or any of my readers — would like to discuss more about the issue, my DMs are open.

Honestly, I was waiting for this conversation to happen. I have been writing Namjoon and Vixen discussing the topic in one of the pieces but unfortunately that prompt hasn't been selected yet. As soon as I'm done with my exam, I will release a specific piece to explain Vixen's relationship with the text since it's part of the character's back story and her past with with her first boyfriend.

Thank you for bringing up the issue.

#anna vents #ask:anon #introducing vixen

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anewbeginningagain · 4 years

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What were your favourite programs of all disciplines this season?☺️💕

So this ask has been in my inbox for a really long time and since today is the first day in a really long time that I feel excited about skating I thought it’s a good opportunity to answer it (I hope you are still around anon!).

Only after the season ended in a very unfortunate way I realized that I enjoyed and will miss quite a lot of the programs we saw this season. Then again I probably won’t have to miss a lot of them since I expect most skaters will repeat programs if we’ll have some kind of a skating season in 2020/21. But the ones I love the most are:

Shoma Uno, Great Spirit - perhaps the most musically gifted skater currently competing, Shoma’s SP was a real favorite of mine. It was an unusual music choice but one that was choreographed and interpreted flawlessly. Shoma’s gift is to be able to interpret basically every kind of music and while some of his interpretation can feel a little repetitive the closer you look the more you see the little nuances he adds to his performances.

Shoma Uno, Dancing On My Own FS - take everything I said about the SP and multiply it by a 100 and that’s how I feel about this FS. So moving, so beautiful and so touching. His nearly flawless performance of it in the 2020 Challenge Cup ended up being the last senior competition we got in the 2019/20 skating season and what a way to end. He went from sitting along, broken, and defeated in the k&c to skating a near-flawless program when every move he made conveyed joy and love for skating. It’s by far one of my best memories from this season.

Jason Brown, Can’t go On Without You SP - alongside Shoma, Jason is the most musically gifted male skater in my eyes. This SP is one of the best programs I’ve seen, every single movement fits the music to a T, the music is moving and that step sequence just might be the best step sequence I’ve ever seen in male skating. His performance of it in US Championships is the definition of flawless.

Canadanes, Bonnie and Clyde RD - another instant favorite and the best RD of the season as far as I’m concerned. They also had the very best pattern of all the teams including P/C and I can’t wait to watch them compete again. Twizzle sequence was also money.

Chock/Bates, FD - as controversial as this might be I loved this FD since I first saw it. I have a personal connection to several aspects of it so I highly enjoyed it. I can understand why some didn’t but I still think they deserve credit for basically reigniting their stale careers and creating buzz and momentum long after everyone declared them as DOA. To me Romain proves himself to be quite an interesting choreographer and his work with C/B is a huge advantage for them. Also, kudos on the lifts guys.

Disco Brits, Vouge FD - as always with Disco Brits, they are the feel-good remedy that will cure your bad mood. With good choreography and costumes and a lot of commitment to the theme they manage to win the crowd whenever they perform this FD. And that stationary lift turned rotational lift is one of my all-time favorite lifts.

Wang/Liu, Swan Lake FD - I’m a known sucker for Swan Lake programs and this one is no different. Their improvement in the past two years is amazing and the way they performed this FD at 4CC was a joy to watch. Their choreographic elements in this FD, especially the choreographic spin move are great.

Stepanova/Bukin, Cry Me A River FD - here’s the thing about me and S/B - I always dislike their programs at the beginning of the season and somehow grow to like them as the season progresses. Same thing happened this season with this FD (and their RD as well to a lesser extent) which I really enjoyed during Europeans.

Peng/Jin, Cloud Atlas FS - one of the best and most effective music cuts in figure skating this season, this program builds to crescendo amazingly and most elements were placed perfectly to the music. This program had soft movement and powerful ones and it was one of the best programs P/J ever did. I really wish they will keep it.

Wakaba Higuchi, Birds Set Free SP - Wakaba is one of the best performers in skating and her commitment to this SP was striking. Shae-Lin’s choreography is a hit and miss for me but this one was a hit for sure. Just emotional and great and the costume was amazing as well.

#let's talk about figure skating #I didn't include Rain in your black eyes since it's a repeat #but it's a known fave of mine for sure #same goes for Kostornaia's SP to the departure #I probably have more programs that I'm forgetting #if I'll remember more I will add to it #for those who are reading this #feel free to send me your favorites #Anonymous

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hell-much · 4 years

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15 from that winter prompts

“ i’m having a snowball fight with my friend in the park and i hit you instead “

Here my particular talent to turn a prompt that would have sparked fluff in any other person’s imagination to mild angst. :)

Hope you still enjoy! Thank you for the prompt!

—-

Snow in King’s Landing was something that happened about once a decade and Jeyne had dragged her outside, when Sansa had been barely awake, still confused about the first glance out the window and the sight of tree branches covered in delicate layers of snow.

Her best friend had gotten her to leave her room behind under the pretence of watching and making fun of “Southerners failing at handling the cold”, but, as old habits died hard, it taken less than thirty minutes of trudging through the thin layer of snow until the first snowball had been flung in Sansa’s direction.

Despite Sansa’s less than enthusiastic mood going into this walk, she had ended up having a great deal of fun.

Jeyne was as relentless and precise in firing heaps of snow her way at the age of twenty, as she had been as an eight year old. Sansa herself had never been particular good with aiming, especially not when moving around, but growing up with four brothers -and Arya-, she had perfectionated ducking out just in time.

They found themselves in a mess of giggling, shrieking, tousled hair and ice cold fingers; one that came to an abrupt hold when the shriek that followed one of Sansa’s uncoordinated throws was most definitely not Jeyne’s.

Sansa covered her mouth with her hands when she spotted the woman, only a few metres away, wiping a lawyer of snow from her face and hair, quietly cursing as she did so.

“Oh my Gods,” Sansa exclaimed, brushing remaining snow off her coat and made her way to her accidental victim. “Are you okay? I am so—”

She recognized Margaery only when it was too late, too late to hide out, most definitely too late to run in the other direction; she’d spotted her too.

“—sorry,” she ended her sentences quietly, coming into a stop in front of her.

Margaery looked at her through eyes smudged with mascara, brushing a remaining snow out of a clearly ruined hair style.

“I’m sorry,” Sansa repeated. “I was aiming at my friend …” She broke off and vaguely waved a hand in Jeyne’s direction.

“And you clearly need to work on your aim?”

Sansa sighed. “Clearly.” She pulled a tissue from her coat pocket handing it to Margaery. “I’m really sorry.”

Margaery gave her a half smile when taking the tissue and running it over her face. “All that apologizing has me thinking you might have done this on purpose.” She fished her phone out of the purse she was carrying and gave herself a quick look with the front camera. “Shit.”

“It’s not that bad.”

Those words earned Sansa an exasperated glance, while she did her best to fix smudged make-up. “I have an interview in thirty minutes.”

Sansa made a face. “In that case it is bad.”

To her relief Margaery saved any words of blame, but nervousness grew in her features as she took a look on her watch.

“Everything okay?” Sansa flinched at the sound of Jeyne’s voice. Her best friend had not exactly snuck up on them, but Sansa had been so very preoccupied with this involuntary run-in to Margaery she had not noticed her approaching.

“Not exactly,” Margaery breathed with another glance to her watch. “I… have no time to fix this.” She gestured towards her face.

“You know,” Jeyne started out, and only by her tone Sansa knew to brace herself for whatever was coming. “Sansa here, lives just up the street. You could freshen up there.”

Brown eyes regained a spark of hope as they darted ever so briefly to Jeyne and then settled on Sansa with hesitance. “Would that be okay?”

No, it most definitely wouldn’t be.

Sansa denied herself the urge to send a murderous glance in her best friends direction.

Jeyne wasn’t to blame here. Her state of knowledge was that Sansa had an all embracing crush on the brunette from her class. Her friend probably thought she did her a huge favour, giving her an excuse to take her back to her dorm room and that was Sansa’s own fault. If Jeyne knew, if Sansa had told her about what had happened, she’d never made the suggestion in the first place; or look between them with that cocky smile.

In the end, all that Sansa could do was nod. There really wasn’t much of an alternative. When responsible for ruining a girl’s appearance, you could not exactly deny her help.

Decisive to do as much damage control as still possible -meaning not giving her friend a chance to speak another word- Sansa made a gesture towards the building on the other side of the park. “Let’s go.”

That Jeyne -ever so conveniently- remembered a class she had to attend, was a fortune and unfortune for Sansa at the same time.

Her and Margaery walked to her dorm building in silence. It was a good ten minute walk away, but Sansa picked up a speed that aimed for cutting time in half. One that Margarey went along with her pace effortlessly; maybe she appreciated cutting the awkwardness short, maybe being in a rush she did not have time to waste on small talk.

Only when they were already inside the building, in front of her door; Sansa fidgeting with her keys Margaery broke the silence eventually.

“So how have you been?”

“Good.” Sansa lied through a tight smile.

“Good.”

Sansa hated how her internalized politeness would forever win out over her need of not having to do small talk. “And you?”

“I’m fine.” Any other day Margaery’s smile could light up a room, always so genuine and heartfelt; that forced look of ease on her face today was barely enough to spark a candle. “I haven’t seen a lot of you lately.”

“No, I just came back from Winterfell this week.”

“So you did end up going home for the holidays.” Margaery looked sincerely happy to hear so.

“I did.”

“And you had a good time?”

“I did.” Sansa turned the key in the lock and the awkwardness of about to be alone with Margaery in her room caught up with her; this time she felt the need to fill the silence. “What did you do for the holidays?”

“I stayed in town,” Margaery returned.

“All by yourself?”

“Yes.”

“And your family?”

“Loras was with his boyfriend’s family for the holidays. And my parents decided to escape this cold spell by going on a cruise. They invited me to come, but the idea of my dad doing karaoke in his speedos on the pool deck…” Margaery made a face.

Sansa chuckled at the mental image and Margaery shot her a dazzling smile, as if hearing her laugh was all she had waited for; the soft smile lasted still as Margaery stepped past her into the room.

Margaery took a subtle glance around the room, while she worked on detangling her scarf and unzipping her coat. With the door closed behind her, Sansa was for a moment at a loss what to do; sincerely forgot how she normally behaved in her own room.

She cleared her throat, when she caught Margaery watching her. “So, where is the interview?”

“Lannister LLP.”

Sansa’s eyebrows shot to her hairline and her hands dropped from working the buttons of her coat. “Seriously?”

Margaery gave her trademark lopsided smirk, evidently not at all surprised with her reaction. “I take it that’s not admiration talking.”

“Not exactly.” It came out sounding harsh and wrong, and she corrected herself. “I mean, it is impressive that you got an interview.”

From what she had heard, getting a foot in the door with Lannister LLP was sheer impossible even for bar certified lawyers with several years of experience under their belt. The general assumption was that they did not even consider law students for internships.

“But?” Margaery probed, looking gently amused.

“Why in the world would you want to work for Cersei Lannister?”

Their shared dislike over their professor for family law was one of the first things that had them bonding. Cersei Lannister was known for being controversial in her approaches, merciless with her students and deadly with opponents in any courtroom.

Sansa for the most part stuck to rolling her eyes in class and complaining about the professor after. Margaery on the other hand was known to outright challenge Cersei Lannister in almost every single class; something that had the professor seething and her fellow students profoundly entertained.

Margaery shrugged, while unbuttoning her coat. “She is a raging bitch, but she’s also the best in her field and I do aim at getting into family law.”

Slipping out of her coat Margaery made a sound of dismay when discovering that a good deal of snow had stained and damped her blouse. She rubbed her hand over the spots, that would doubtlessly dry with time, but not in time or in a way that would have her presentable to face the sceptical eyes of Cersei Lannister.

For the first time Margaery looked at Sansa with a hint of blame. “Gee, when you make a mess you do so properly, don’t you?”

She seemed to realize the implication of her words as soon as she said them, regret coming into her features, while Sansa looked at her for a long moment in dire silence.

Without a reply Sansa spun around to her closet then, and started to push hangers back and forth. Trying to get her hands on the white silken blouse she’d worn only worn for her aunt’s birthday took her just long enough to get herself back under control.

She spun around again, her face merged into relaxed neutrality and held the piece of clothing out to Margaery. The sense of regret had not left Margaery’s features altogether, but still being pressed for time, her eyes left Sansa and went over the fabric. It was more fashionable chic than the clean business look Margaery had going on with her black pantsuit, but it still could work.

Sansa pointed to the door behind herself. “The bathroom is right here. Help yourself to towels, hair dryer… whatever you need.”

“Thank you.”

Their fingers brushed when Margaery took the hanger out of her hand, leaving Sansa’s skin burning even when the bathroom door had closed behind Margaery. Sansa released a breath and pulled off her own coat, dumping it over her desk chair.

She sunk down on her bed and stared at the closed door. From inside the bathroom she could hear water running, the sound of the hair dryer turning on a moment later.

A month ago the prospect of having Margaery in her room would have thrilled her. In fact she’d tried on several occasions coming up with an excuse that would bring them back here. This particular reality did not live up to how she’d planned for this moment to go.

It was a mess. And the worst thing was that she did not have anyone but herself to blame for that; and not just her lack of aim when she’d thrown that snowball today.

Not that it mattered; there was nothing she could do what had happened.

And Margaery… she would be out of here in a matter of minutes and then Sansa would get a new chance at her plan to avoid her; at least until the thought of her did not feel like it was tearing her apart from the inside anymore.

Margaery finished whatever she had been doing in the bathroom in record time and emerged in a cloud of flowery smell, with her hair fixed, her make up freshened up. She had Sansa’s blouse tucked into her pants and it complementing her figure a great deal better than Sansa had expected. Distractingly so.

“What do you think?” Margaery asked, making a half spin in front of her. “Good enough for the she-devil?”

Sansa couldn’t contain her smile looking up at her. And for once today she didn’t hold back in looking at her. If she’d deprive herself of seeing her again any time soon, she wanted to soak her image up now.

She looked so beautiful. If possible not seeing her in three and a half weeks seemed to have made her even more gorgeous.

It was being so very caught up by her appearance, that had Sansa’s mouth work faster than her mind. “Way too good.”

The way Margaery smiled, almost shyly, -Gods, was Margaery Tyrell blushing?- and tucked a curl behind her ear did not make the fluttering in Sansa’s stomach any better.

In her very last attempt to push that away, Sansa reached for Margaery’s coat next to her on the bed and held it out to her, forcing a smile. “You will have to hurry, if you still want to make it in time.”

The law firm was a good ten minute walk away, and if Sansa’s calculation was correct Margaery only had about thirteen left.

Sansa ignored the way Margaery’s smile dimmed; along with the way her skin tingled after soft fingers had grazed over her own when taking the coat.

“Thank you, Sansa.”

Sansa managed a small smile. She had missed hearing the way Margaery said her name.

Damn it.

She had missed Margaery. Way more than was good for her.

“It was the least I could do.”

Even with the coat hanging around her shoulders and her purse in her hand, Margaery didn’t move. The conflict in her features was ever so evident and it reminded Sansa of the expression she got when considering an important ethical question in class.

Her dilemma here was an obvious one, she was running short on time, but also did not want to leave things as awkward as they were.

“I would like to thank you properly,” Margaery told her with another one of those untypical shy smiles. “Do you have time for a coffee later?”

Sansa would have loved to have a coffee with her; hear all about how the interview went and what she had been up to in the past weeks. She wanted to go back to spending time with her, to laughing with her. But because she wanted to so much, she couldn’t.

“Today’s really not a good day.” The moment she said it she knew she had worded it wrong.

“Tomorrow then?” Margaery smiled at her hopeful.

Sansa shook her head and opened her mouth to come up with another excuse, but Margaery interrupted her, taking a step towards her.

“I would love a chance for us to talk. I owe you an explanation.”

The ache in her chest, that Sansa had suppressed so very well, flared up like a wildfire.

The fact was she owed her several explanations; only Sansa was afraid to hear them.

“I need some time,” Sansa gave back firmly, even when she hated to be the reason for Margaery’s face to crumble in disappointment.

Maybe with some time, thinking about her would become bearable again. And then looking at her would not cause her heart to speed up anymore and send that mixture out of pain and endorphins straight through her chest.

She could only hope for that; for things going back to normal.

She wanted that. Wanted to forget all that had happened and just have things go back to normal.

She needed to forget what kissing her had felt like.

Above all, she needed to forget the humiliation she’d felt when Margaery had pushed her away gently; telling her she had a girlfriend.

“I understand,” Margaery said with a quick nod. “I really do.”

Much to Sansa’s dismay she didn’t move away though, but only came another step closer.

“Just… one more thing -and I understand if that doesn’t sway your decision or your need for time- but… I broke up with… me and …” She took a deep breath, regaining some firmness to her voice. “I am single now.”

Her eyes tore themselves away from studying the pattern of the carpet, looking up into Margaery’s.

Sansa frowned, sincerely thinking she had misheard. “Excuse me?”

“For about three weeks and two days now actually,” Margaery added, daring to give her a small smile.

“Really?”

In the three weeks and four days that had passed since their kiss Sansa had been so afraid of that everything leading up to it had just been in her head. That all the gentle smiles and the lingering touches, were nothing more than her own infatuation exaggerating Margaery being her friendly and affectionate self.

She had not dared to think that it wasn’t anymore.

Still didn’t trust the feeling entirely when Margaery sat next to her on the bed and reached for her hand.

“Really,” she confirmed, her thumb drawing gentle circles over the back of Sansa’s hand.

Warmth spread through her entire body as they sat there, holding hands, and Sansa found herself unable to hold back a smile; the fluttering returning to her stomach in the very best way when Margaery mirrored it.

“You’ll be late for your interview.”

Margaery didn’t move, but kept on holding her hand and smiling. “I’d make a lousy lawyer if I couldn’t come up with an excuse for that.”

#I am sorry if this is a mess grammar and spelling wise #that comes mostly from me pushing paragraphs back and forth for three days #prompt fill #Sansa x Margaery #sansaery

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yang-in-there · 4 years

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Today marks the 5th anniversary of Monty's passing.

I wasn't in the fandom when Monty was alive, unfortunately. I had just joined after volume three ended because I saw some spoilers and thought the show looked cool. Whoo boy little did I know how big RWBY would be in my life.

It's always been the show I fall back on whenever another story ends, dissapoints me, or hell if I'm just in a bad mood. Sure, the show is far from perfect. I have problems with the writing and the most recent controversy surrounding V7 CH12 has really complicated my feelings with the show. But that doesn't change how positively this show has affected me.

It's so fun to make inserts for me and my friends. Or to do character metas, to cosplay, to see myself in characters. It inspired me to write my own stories and whenever I make new characters I sometimes unconsciously follow the RWBY name rule, which is really funny to me. This show has brought me so much joy throughout the years.

So despite how complicated things get, I really do love RWBY. And I'm happy I started watching it.

Thank you Monty.

#rwby #rwby 7 #monty oum #rwby talk

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peace-coast-island · 4 years

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Diary of a Junebug

Corentine’s cherry blossoms

There’s nothing like starting out the day surrounded by a shower of delicate pink petals.

Today’s the cherry blossom festival and what better place to celebrate the lovely blooms than a charming village like Corentine?

It’s been a couple years since I stopped by so along with joining in on the festivities, I also get to catch up with some old friends! There’s Alma and Milana (who got married last month so congrats!) as well as Rika and Elowyn.

Now that I think about it, when was the last time the five of us hung out together? Probably almost five years ago? Wow. Where did the time go?

Newlyweds Alma and Milana have been super busy helping with the festival. They’re part of the town council, which is mostly elders though there are a small handful of members under 60 that has been growing steadily for the past few years.

Alma is the head of her family, the Maebros, who are one of the three oldest and powerful families in Corentine. Their bloodline is intertwined with demon spirits who once inhabited the land the village stands on. Alma’s that friend who occasionally has moments where it seems like her third eye’s wide open so it makes sense.

So her family’s got an interesting history that seems almost unreal except that it’s all true. Her mother’s side is basically village folklore. Unfortunately bearing the name of one of the most powerful families in the area has a heavy burden to bear so it’s one of those things where you have mixed feelings towards. It also doesn’t help that most of the family has been afflicted by misfortune save for the current generation. Alma’s mother, as well as many of her ancestors, have reportedly cursed their family’s name with their dying breath.

The head of the family is designated to the firstborn and for the past eight generations, it was always a woman. Rumor has it that if the matriarchs bear a daughter for eight generations, then the sins of their ancestors will be lifted and no more descendants will have to bear the burden of the demons.

The murders of Alma’s mother and five other controversial and closed minded council members was the last time the village was seen in a negative light. While things are a lot better in the past twenty years, the village had a reputation for being closed off and intolerant toward those who don’t agree with their often outdated ideals. With the deaths of the five, the village went through a change as the younger council members began standing up for themselves and the remaining elders were more receptive to the change now that no one got in the way.

Although the dead were respected members of the council, they honestly weren’t good people. Like Alma’s mother and Milana’s father - both who were abusive - and the others who were bigoted elders that everyone was intimidated by. It’s generally agreed that they indirectly caused their own deaths by being shitty people.

Alma’s father learned how to stand up for himself after years of emotional abuse from his wife. That in turn helped him become a better parent to Alma, who pretty much had to raise herself because her mother bullied her while her father tried but at the same time lacked the emotional maturity to be a parent. He even took Milana in as she didn’t have much family aside from her abusive uncle, a move that surprised a lot of people, including Alma.

If they didn’t have each other, Alma and Milana would’ve turned out differently - likely jaded, cynical, and closed minded. They were always close as kids and their friendship later bloomed into love. After dating for eight years, Alma and Milana tied the knot in front of the Summer Blooms shrine at the outskirts of the village.

The wedding was officiated by an elder who everyone calls Ojiichan, which means grandpa. He’s a cute little old man who always seems to know exactly what’s going on. I’m surprised that he remembers me! He’s pushing 100 and his memory’s sharper than a tack - hell, he doesn’t even look that old! At this point everyone’s convinced he’s some kind of immortal and all knowing being which isn’t surprising because there’s nothing to deny that he isn’t.

Since we got here early before the festivities began, Ojiichan gave me and the campers a tour around the village. A lot has changed in five years though it still feels familiar - like the saying about how the more things change the more they also stay the same.

I always found Corentine to be a charming little village because of the sights like the cherry blossoms, the distant mountains, and the numerous shrines. But at the same time it gave off the vibe of a small town where it’s kind of like a hive mind at times. I would put in the category of nice place to visit, not so much to live in.

While listening to Ojiichan’s stories, I noticed how different things are now. I see elders casually hanging out and chatting with younger residents like they’re equals. Before the elders kinda just did their own thing - especially the village council, which was kinda like a clique. Seeing people like Alma’s dad and aunt acting all casual and even bickering good-naturedly was refreshing. Especially since most of the older adults in the council have a reputation/image for being proper and professional so seeing them relaxed and having a good time was nice. Even Ojiichan, who has always been a sweetheart, is a lot more livelier and carefree.

Compared to my very first visit to my last visit five years ago the general vibe of Corentine has changed a lot. It’s still a small village that sticks closely to traditional ideals but over the years it’s become more open to change and is thriving because of that.

Ojiichan spoke about how the times are changing and how back in the day the villagers fought against it. But as we all know, change is inevitable and expecting everything to stay the same is futile. The mood turned a bit somber as he spoke about how some residents who clung on to their old ideas so tightly that it hurt everyone else. Although there’s a lot about Corentine that he’s proud of, one thing he’s highly critical of is the village’s mob mentality.

Aside from being a sweet old man, another thing I admire about Ojiichan is how he actively strives to be a good person. He’s not afraid to own up to his mistakes and he really does try his best.

The way he sees it, the closed minded residents see things in only black and white. They’re powerful people so no one tries to correct them. Once in a while someone steps up and says the sky is actually blue. But they’re shot down by the closed minded, who insist that the sky is white and if anyone disagrees, then they are delusional. It’s a harmful mindset, he says, and not only it gave the village a shaky reputation, it also held everyone back.

The murder of the six council members, he said, was one of those cases where bad things had to happen in order for change to break through. Not that they deserved to meet a gruesome fate, but they kind of brought it on themselves. They constantly fought against the world, making unreasonable demands to fit their narrow world-views and hurting anyone who dared to challenge them.

Then the mood turns to philosophical as Ojiichan asked us to take the time to look at the cherry blossom trees. What he meant was to climb on a branch and hold a flower in your hand. Don’t just look at the flower but experience it - take in the light fragrance, feel the delicate petals, gaze at it’s breathtaking beauty - it might sound silly but it really is mind opening!

For a while I felt completely at peace with the world. Like everything I was looking for was now in my hands in the form of a cherry blossom. Sitting on a branch and being surrounded by pink petals felt so surreal that for a second I thought I was in a dream.

See what I mean when I say that Ojiichan’s probably an immortal being? And then he went on to say how we are all cherry blossoms. In a way, we’re fragile and delicate, worn and swayed by what life throws at us. Always moving in different directions at a slight breeze, always scattered about. Some of us have torn petals, some have survived storms, others have wrinkles and tears, and very rarely, few remain whole. Some bloom and are blown away, some bloom and slowly lose their petals one by one, and some remain buds until the very end.

After listening to Ojiichan’s musings, experiencing the cherry blossom festival felt a lot more magical.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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two-are-the-trees · 5 years

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Jazz and The Gothic

I haven’t seen much discussion about the place of jazz music in the gothic genre but as I mentioned briefly in my post about creepy cartoons, jazz songs of the early to mid 20th century often featured dark subject matter and imagery in their lyrics, extremely reminiscent of other gothic media. Additionally, a lot of this music heavily influenced later gothic media, like the cartoons they were featured in, as well as many more current works like compositions by Danny Elfman and the miniseries, Over the Garden Wall. It also performed a similar function of classic gothic literature, examining various social or moral issues in complex ways and focusing on uneasiness and uncanniness to explore structures within society.

Of course the first name that comes to mind when discussing gothic jazz is Cab Calloway, one of the most prominent jazz artists of the 20th century. His distinct wailing voice and his unpredictable movements in his dancing not only exemplified the improvisational and creative qualities of jazz music, but also created eerie moods in his darker songs. The lyrics of these songs also tell tragic stories and imply horrific images. Arguably his most popular song, “Minnie the Moocher” which was accompanied by surreal, disturbing animation in the Betty Boop cartoon of the same name, alludes to prevalent drug problems during the Great Depression of the 1930s. It tells the story of Minnie, who gets into the world of cocaine and opium thanks to her boyfriend (who is most likely a bootlegger or drug-related criminal). Despite the mention of fabulous riches, the song ends with the words, “Poor Min,” implying that she met a tragic fate. This becomes clear at the realization that a real Indianapolis woman named Minnie Gayton, who fell into homelessness and perpetual begging, served as the inspiration for the song.

“Minnie the Moocher” also has an equally dark sequel song called “The Ghost of Smokey Joe.” The gothic motifs in this song are more obvious as it’s sung from the point of view of the ghost of Minnie’s old boyfriend after he died (presumably of a drug overdose). Smokey Joe comes to haunt the drug dens he used to hang around in. He demands to know where Minnie is and explains that he has a chariot to take her to his “estate in Hades,” implying that his illegal activities landed him a spot in eternal damnation, and he plans to drag his girlfriend down with him. This song not only warns against the personal consequences of using dangerous drugs, but also the moral responsibility of drug lords for “dragging others down” with drug addiction and abuse.

Cab Calloway also sang “San Francisco Fan,” a warning about the dangers of gambling. The song itself focuses on the girlfriend of an abusive gambler. She is forced to live in poverty so that her boyfriend can use her wages for more bets until she eventually takes a bullet for him after he is accused of cheating. The song serves as a funeral dirge for the woman, with a melancholy dragging beat and mournful lyrics.

Calloway’s darkest song, however, evokes death throughout. “St. James’s Infirmary,” another song accompanied by creepy animation in “Betty Boop in Snow White,” laments the death of yet another unfortunate woman caught up in the criminal underworld of bootlegging and drugs. She is described as “stretched out on a long white table, so sweet, cool and so fair.” This gentle imagery of the corpse evokes the tragic beauties of Edgar Allen Poe’s work, cut down before their time. Her boyfriend then goes on to talk about his own death. He details how he wants his funeral and body prepared and says “The gang’ll know I died standing pat,” meaning that he’ll die sticking to his beliefs and lifestyle. This implies that he knows his current life in the criminal underworld will eventually lead to his death, just as it led to his girlfriend’s.

These cautionary tales of poverty and death did not exist in a void. The constant threat of destitution due to the economic crash of the Great Depression led many to desperate means to make a living. The criminal industries of bootlegging and drug dealing flourished, often leading to the violence and death depicted in Calloway’s music. The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, in which seven gangsters were gunned down horrifically, is just one famous example. With popular drug trends also, of course, came addiction and overdose. Even more sinister is the fact that during Prohibition, officials were encouraged to poison barrels of alcohol to discourage illegal drinking, leading to even more deaths.

Cab Calloway was not the only famous jazz musician to sing about death and tragedy. Billie Holiday also released several songs that live on today as haunting examples of gothic jazz. One of these songs is “Gloomy Sunday,” notable for the controversy surrounding it. Originally composed by Hungarian musician, Rezsó Seress, and translated by Sam M. Lewis, it was released in the U.S. with a performance by Billie Holiday. The song has a mournful tone and lyrics that focus on death and immeasurable sorrow after losing a loved one. Perhaps more unnerving about the song are the many mentions of suicide, as the narrator sings, “Soon there'll be candles, and prayers that are said I know; let them not weep; let them know that I'm glad to go.” After it’s release, many real life suicides were blamed on the song, as rumors circulated that people killed themselves while listening to the tune. These rumors were mostly unfounded, but the urban legend does indicate that in the public eye, “Gloomy Sunday” was unique in its dark tone, and it still holds that reputation to this day.

Another well-known Billie Holiday song is “Strange Fruit,” with an even more disturbing subject. The song was originally a poem written by Abel Meeropol and remains one of the most influential pieces of African American poetry to this day. The poem and song evoke the monstrous practice of lynching black people, which most often occurred in the Southern U.S. The song describes the bodies hanging from trees in horrific detail. It tells of “Blood on the trees and blood and the root” and “The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth, scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh, then the sudden smell of burning flesh.” The jarring contrast between imagery of fresh flowers and fruit trees and imagery of rotting, mutilated bodies conveys not only the trauma lurking behind the facade of the peaceful Southern countryside, but also the frequency at which violence against black people occurred, as the bodies became part of the landscape. It’s a song that clearly uses horror and fear to convey the emotions felt by black people across the nation, evoking the tactics of the gothic genre to expose this dark reality.

The last song I’ll discuss is “Driva Man,” written by Max Roach. This is a song released during the later era of jazz in the 1960’s during the Civil Rights movement and explores more experimental tempos and tones after the big band craze of the 1950s. The song’s lyrics are delivered with only an occasional drum beat before the fuller musical interlude, creating a very ominous tone. The lyrics themselves tell of the violence faced by black slaves at the hands of merciless slave drivers (or even black workers in the 1960’s facing unfair workplace practices at the hands of their “slave driving” bosses). Some lyrics include, “When his cat 'o nine tail fly, you’d be happy just to die” and “Runaway and you'll be found, by his big old red bone hound.” Both lyrics evoke slave owner practices of using whips and dogs to control, and often even kill, their slaves. The casual delivery of the chilling lyrics is even more devastating as it reveals how commonplace these practices really were. The timing of the song’s release is significant, as it expresses the horrors faced by an entire group, even long after slavery was abolished.

Of course there are many other jazz songs with dark tones and subject matter, and many more that inspired the gothic genre in different forms of media. The jazz genre was created by black artists and often infused with the struggles and atrocities faced by black communities. Therefore, much of jazz uses tactics of the gothic in order to express the fear felt by these communities, and by extension society as a whole when faced with nation-wide issues. These are just a few well known examples of jazz’s place in the larger gothic timeline.

#gothic #jazz #music #poetry #vintage

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