#also he strongly reminded my of my cousin at first

[wisteria-blooms]

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) 2/??

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake (Let me know if you want to be tagged!)

CHAPTER 2: If you thought last night's dinner was terrible, you are proven wrong the very next morning. What could be worse than the return of Charlie Weasley, who lands right back in England, in the middle of a conversation about dating his older brother? (3.9k words)

CHAPTER 2: FASTER WE'RE FALLING

Leaves crunched under your feet as you walked across Diagon Alley. The town was still draped in silence at just a half hour past dawn, and there was a distinct fall chill in the morning air. The chill wasn’t the only thing lingering; you were replaying the scene you’d caused at dinner yesterday. You and your father were at obvious odds this morning when you passed each other in the hallway. When he’d curtly announced he had important business and therefore wouldn’t be at breakfast, you were elated. 

But that was all the reminder that there were only thirteen days to find a lover. A true one or not. 

Not much else was open at this hour except your favourite café, Cauco, which was also known as Cauldron Concoctions. It was most renowned for its brunch but was a beautiful restaurant at all hours of the day. 

So, you walked like a woman on a mission, holding a tray of drinks, trying your very best not to spill it on the cream sweater that you’d layered over an oversized white dress shirt. The faint sun would undoubtedly swelter in a couple of hours, so you had an option to peel off layers. 

“Good morning!” you called as you pushed the door open with your back to Weasley Wizard Wheezes. 

“Good morning!” George called back.

“We’re not open yet,” Fred said, standing by the entrance. “Make like a tree and leave.”

“Ignore him, (Y/N),” George instructed, throwing his towel onto the table. “Seeing your beautiful face always brightens my mornings.”

You couldn’t hide a smile at both the banter and the relief being here brought you. Fred and George had been your best friends since your first year at Hogwarts. In a way, you supposed forgotten misfits always found each other. They taught you how to be yourself and to stop caring about other people’s opinions. Your friendship carried strongly over the years and beyond graduation. They’d seen you through your best and worst, and was your stronghold when you were having trouble with your family.

“What’s this?” Fred asked, eyes falling on the tray you were carrying. 

“Fuel,” you responded.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart?” Fred complimented, snatching a latte for himself and George. He wafted the sweet scent of pumpkin and made a pleased expression. “But I have a peculiar feeling that drinks mean…. you require something.”

“Not always,” you said. 

Fred rolled his eyes. “Out with it. What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?”

“I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

“Okay?” Fred quirked an eyebrow. “What else is new?”

“Ever since my cousin’s wedding in France in August, marriage is all my mother will talk about,” you confessed. “She’s pressuring me to get married, despite there being multiple steps missing in between. My father is pissed off that I’ve embarrassed him by ditching the sons of his friends at the country club, so he’s strong-armed me into entertaining Goyle for dinner.”

“And you agreed?” Fred asked. 

“Of course not,” you said, irritation creeping in at the thought of rolling over to Lucius’s demands so quickly. “I told him I already had a boyfriend.”

“Which isn’t true,” George said. “Unless something’s changed since last week?”

“I mean, it can be true,” you said. “I just haven’t been able to find anyone to make my statement true.”

“I thought Malfoys had a whole web of connections,” George remarked.

“Malfoys never burn bridges, Malfoys never lose,” you recited. “But I’ve broken so many of these sayings that I may as well renege my last name.”

“Is this a proposal for me to fill in the gap?” Fred asked excitedly, holding a hand over his chest. “I’d be delighted to go out with you. High time you asked.”

You laughed. “You couldn’t keep a straight face if your life depended on it.” In truth, you would’ve loved to take Fred with you. Just his last name would absolutely piss off your parents, namely your father and so much so that Lucius might actually crush the wine glass in his hands. And you had so much built-up anger for his favouritism of Draco over you that it would be fulfilling to see it—the idea of you and Fred Weasley—unravel.

“Do you want to rent someone else instead of taking this clown?” George asked. “We can offer some old friends, maybe some siblings, but be careful with who you choose.”

Siblings. 

You had to laugh at the idea. “You’d offer me a sibling?”

George nodded. “Slim pickings, but yeah, I can pull some strings.”

You sifted through some faces for your own amusement. You knew Ron was happily taken, Percy was never going to say yes, and Charlie was never in England. So, you naturally landed on Bill. Bill was the eldest. The age gap between you and him, a whole eight years, would be enough to make Lucius’s head implode. What could a 31-year old want with his sweet daughter? That would be corruption beyond even his understanding. You hadn’t seen Bill in years, and you were never in school with him. But from quick glimpses of when he’d come home during vacations, you could remember long hair, piercings, and a fang earring that Molly was always trying to tug off at the table. 

Wait—

Why was this actually a good idea?

The prospect of the chaos he could cause at the dinner table made your heart ache happily. 

And like the last pair of heels in your size at Madame Malkin’s, you just had to have Bill Weasley. 

“Well, anyone in mind?” George asked. 

“Bill!” you said confidently.

A moment of silence. 

“(Y/N),” George managed to get out. He was breathing through clenched teeth, trying not to implode with laughter.

“What?” you demanded.

“You’re a fucking homewrecker.”

“What?” you spat.

“Bill is married,” George lectured.

“What?” you trilled.

“Yeah,” Fred added matter-of-factly. “It’s taken mum a while, but she finally came around on their wedding day a year ago.”

“Charlie was blasé about the marriage, he was just happy to be best man,” George said, providing background. “Percy figured that since Fleur was the global liaison for the same company Bill worked at, it was considered a workplace romance and so he professionally advised against it. Almost reported Bill, his own fucking brother, to human resources, but we reckon he was just jealous. Of course, Ronnie was mad because he’s wanted Fleur for himself since his fourth year. And Ginny, well, maybe it was a cultural shock for her, but she hated the idea of Bill and Fleur.”

“And now you want to tear them apart? This only gets better!” Fred rubbed his hands together. Then, a serious look crossed his face. Then, he wagged his finger. “Actually, you should do it. You can get back at her for stealing Davies from you during the Yule Ball.”

“No one told me they were married!” you protested, heat tickling your cheeks. “And I didn’t know he’d married Fleur of all people.”

You remember the uproar that Fleur caused in your sixth year during the Triwizard Tournament. She was this perfect blonde magnet that literally hypnotized every man that walked by to the extent that even you were jealous of her. In a way, she was everything your parents wanted you to be, and you’d never fit that mold. 

“You should stay in town more often, but you were taking your annual Tour de France last year,” Fred said.  “Maybe you could’ve crashed the wedding. Mum would’ve probably preferred you as his wife anyway.”

You made a face at Fred, grossed out by what he was inferring. “I’d only want him for a weekend.”

“Sure, o-okay.” He swung around and resumed unpacking some boxes. “Keep thinking about it, (Y/N).”

With a hmph, you sat down on the couch in the middle of the store. This seat was usually a hotbed for parents, sitting for hours waiting for their children to finish perusing. It was weird being here without the usual bustling crowds doing a last haul before rushing off to Platform 9 ¾. All the kids were back in school, and now it was just the occasional local or group of tourists.

As Fred worked in front of you and George mounted a ladder, you sipped on your latte and drummed your fingers on the leather couch. You were running through other possibilities in your mind like a madwoman. Bill’s occupancy left a hole in your heart despite you never even considering it until George brought it up. Worst case, you could head to a bar tonight and propose the idea to a guy drunk out of his mind. You knew you were amenable to mostly anything when you were three drinks in, hence the lingering scars on your legs from when you were drunkenly running around London after midnight with Fred and George last year. And maybe it was better that way, not knowing who was going to play your boyfriend. 

As you mused, a loud crack rang out in front of you. You barely flinched. You were more than accustomed to random loud noises having been around Fred and George for so long. 

“Charlie!” Fred’s voice rang out. 

You slowly looked up and saw a tall figure towering over you. You assumed that, from Fred’s comment, this was Charlie turned away, standing in front of you, inches from your knees. A worn jean jacket covered his noticeably broad torso. You could see the gleam of a silver necklace circling his neck. Long and wild ringlets of ginger hair grazed his shoulders.

“Hey, long time no see,” Charlie greeted.

“Don’t you know it’s bad manners to apparate directly inside?” Fred mocked. “Charles Weasley, how many times have I told you? You should always apparate outside the house and then knock until your host invites you in!” 

“You’re open, mum’s not here, so what’s the problem?” Charlie said with a shrug. He took a step back. In a split second, you realized what he was doing. 

He was trying to sit. On the couch you were on.

Without recognizing you were right there. Holding a cup of steaming coffee. 

“Hey, watch out!” you warned, but it was too late. 

A crushing weight was quickly falling on your lap. You bent your free arm to brace for Charlie, hoping your forearm would lighten the impact on your legs. He’d always sported more muscles than any of his siblings, and if even Fred was heavy enough to knock the breath out of you, you couldn’t imagine trying to support Charlie. The issue was that your other arm was the one holding the coffee. And as Charlie landed on you, your latte spilled everywhere, staining your freshly-starched blouse and the softest wool sweater you’d owned.

Just as quickly as Charlie had sat down, he got up.

“Whoa!” Charlie exclaimed after realizing there was someone behind him. “I’m sorry,” he said. He turned around to assess the damage he’d done: a hot splotch of coffee on your now brown sweater, dribbling down your thighs to your knees and down your legs. 

“Good thing it wasn’t a white t-shirt,” Fred snickered. “But maybe you would’ve liked that, Charlie.”

Charlie burst out laughing. But when you shot him a look, he quickly bit his tongue. “I’m sorry about spilling it on you, erm—”

“(Y/N),” you finished for him. 

“(Y/N) Malfoy!” He slapped his head, a bright smile resulting from the action, like there was happiness shooting from his palm. “How could I forget you?” Charlie extended a hand to you which you took. The first thing you noticed was how callused and rough his hands were, likely sculpted from his work with dragons and other beasts. The second thing you noticed was that you barely had to do any work; his muscled arm lifted you with ease until you were on your feet. “Mum can fix you up,” he said. He pointed to the left breast of his jean jacket where a button should’ve been. Instead, it was a ripped seam. “A Peruvian Vipertooth got cheeky with me and snatched my button off. Mum’ll have to take a look at repairing it so you may as well come with me.”

“Why are you even here in the first place?” Fred asked. “Did all the dragons escape under your care?” He paused for a second, letting his imagination run wild. “Have you been debarred?”

“I was forced to take my accrued vacation time,” Charlie said. “Amongst other things, but we can talk about it later at home.”

“You should make it up to (Y/N),” George called from the second floor, after leisurely watching the debacle.

“Oh yeah, of course,” Charlie responded. He eyed the now empty cup of coffee on the side table. “Do you want to get another cup of coffee?”

“Smooth,” George sang. “Not even a minute back in England, and already trying to woo a lovely lady to go out with you?”

“You know me,” Charlie admitted, his hands in his pockets. “I don’t like wasted time.” He cocked his head at you. “What do you say, (Y/N)?”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” you said. You had more worrisome things to attend to than a lost coffee.

“I don’t mean just coffee, Charlie,” George corrected, descending the ladder. “Did you hear the rest of the conversation before you sat on (Y/N), or have you stopped eavesdropping?” 

“I’ve only kept the bad habit of apparating in where I shouldn’t,” Charlie said with a wink. You blinked at him, confused.

“Let me fill you in,” Fred offered, stalking over to Charlie’s side. “(Y/N) was asking us about the best way to break up Bill and Fleur’s marriage.”

“What?” Charlie guffawed. “You’re not serious about that, are you?”

“Talk about a loose interpretation of events,” you murmured. You didn’t want to add fuel to Fred’s fire so you kept silent.

George shook his head and explained in your defense. “(Y/N) shot herself in the foot last night and is on a mission to find a boyfriend to take to dinner before she’s forced to marry Goyle.”

“Gross.” Charlie contorted his face. “I only knew his older brother, (Y/N), but if the younger Goyle is anything like him…”

“I’m not marrying him regardless of what happens!” you protested. “We also don’t have to talk about it here.” You looked over at Charlie. You were embarrassed. You hadn’t seen the second eldest brother in years and now all of this drama was unraveling as his welcome home present.

“Whoa,” Charlie said. “Let me take you out for a date first before we meet your parents, (Y/N).”

“That’s not—”

George just hummed. 

“Here, take this,” Charlie said. He quickly shed his jean jacket and handed it over, the chain around his neck dangling as the material swept it. He wore nothing but a white t-shirt underneath.“Cover up the stain before we go to,”—he grabbed the empty white cup and inspected the lettering,—“Cauco? You’ll bankrupt me before our second date, (Y/N).”

“Charlie is more of a Coffee Pot kind of guy,” George said with a snicker. He was referring to a cafe near Knockturn Alley where the price was more palatable than the coffee. 

“Hey, don’t share my finances in front of (Y/N),” Charlie protested. “Come on, (Y/N). Let’s get going.”

“You really don’t have to,” you said, giving Charlie a last chance to escape. 

“I insist,” he tutted.

You sighed in surrender.

As you accepted the jacket, you couldn’t help but notice the faint scars running up his forearms. Some were evidently deep scratches from what you assumed were caused by dragon talons. The rest had to be burn scars. A shudder ran up your spine and you willed yourself to stop thinking about it.

You looped your arms through Charlie’s jacket. You were immediately enveloped in the scent of cinder and ash, like you were transported into a deep grassy forest in the middle of autumn. The frayed hems of the jacket reached midway down your thigh and were sufficient to cover the ugly mess on your sweater. You popped the collar of your dress out, rolled up the sleeves, and followed Charlie’s lead out the door. 

Cauco was brimming with business when you arrived for the second time today. It was situated in a particularly attractive part of town where the higher-end stores stood. The open air terrace spilled onto the cobbled streets. Lavender and wisteria hung from the roof providing beauty and shade. It was full of patrons enjoying a morning coffee, much more of them now than when you’d walked in earlier. As you strode past the glass door that Charlie held open, you realized the inside was no better. Every seat underneath the high ceilings was occupied. Beautiful and fresh pastries, a collection of breads, tarts, and cakes, lined the glass displays. The espresso machine was pristinely polished. You and Charlie passed by a line of people in queue to be seated. 

“I reckon we should just get this to go, yeah?” Charlie said. He tilted his head to the right, trying to see the menu printed behind the counter. 

“You were thinking of sitting down?”

“I haven’t been able to properly relax in hours. Sleeper trains are terrible.” He extended his arms over his head in a stretch. “And I don’t fit too well in the berths.”

‘I can imagine,’ you thought, looking at the taut muscles he was working. As you looked up at Charlie, you realized there was so much you hadn’t noticed about him before. Maybe it was because you’d only known him before your body was flush with hormones. After all, you’d barely spent two grades at Hogwarts with him before he went off to Romania. And he was much too cool and preoccupied with Quidditch to pay attention to you. 

Charlie wasn’t the tallest Weasley child but his broad shoulders and frame more than made up for it. You’d put him right next to Fred and George in terms of height, but he just looked physically more intimidating. As if, if he had to brawl with Fred, you’d place all your bets on Charlie. You’d place the estate on him in any sort of fight. Charlie’s jaw was chiseled, the angles cutting like glass and meeting to form a square chin. A faint dimple unveiled itself when he laughed, which was often. His brow was cocked, eyes angled, and he wore a permanent smirk, as if he was always calculating his next move. When the sun caught him just right, his eyes were the colour of the sea: bright blue blending with a ring of aquamarine in the centre.

Charlie exhaled as he eased the tension in his body. “So, what are you going to do?” His voice was deeper and huskier by nature. You hadn’t heard it in ages and had almost forgotten its distinct quality.

“What about?”

He bit back a laugh. “The Goyle thing.”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It feels nice to get it out in the open, at least. I might have to chat up a random bloke at the bar.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” Charlie warned, his brows furrowing. “That can be dangerous.” Then he leaned in a little closer, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. “You know, you can always ask me.”

“No way,” you deflected with a laugh. You weren’t sure if he was serious. 

“But you were considering Bill?” He placed a hand over his chest. “I’m offended. I’m more fun than him.”

“That was a joke,” you mumbled. “I didn’t know he was married, otherwise I wouldn't have said anything.”

“I didn’t know he was married either,” Charlie admitted.

“What? I thought you were the best man.”

“I was,” Charlie said. “But it all happened so fast. One day, he’s saying he’s met this girl. Next week, he’s in love. Then, he wants to propose, and before I know it, I’m standing at the altar.” Charlie chuckled. “Bill just knows what he wants. There’s no such thing as wasted time with him.”

“But there’s wasted time with you?” you teased.

“Likely, yeah. But let’s rewind, you said there’s dinner involved?”” Charlie wound the topic back to your predicament. ���I’m famished, even more so thinking about what dinner is like at the Malfoy manor. How many courses would it be?”

“Seven,” you responded.

His eyes lit up. “I might even pay to go with you.”

Before you could respond, a young woman called you up to the counter. For a fraction of a second, you caught her eyes looking at your oversized jean jacket. And for a fraction of a second, you felt entirely out of place dressed like this in such an upscale establishment. 

Charlie leaned in slightly. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” the young woman responded, red dotting her cheeks. Now, her eyes were locked on Charlie. And you were starting to understand why.

“May I have two lattes, a jambon beurre,” he leaned back and to observe the pastries in the display. “And a pain au chocolat.” Then he turned to you and asked: “Do you want one, too, (Y/N)?” 

“I’m alright,” you said. 

After Charlie paid for the order, you were instructed to wait off to the side so as to not disrupt the dining patrons. You were near the kitchens, so the noise of clattering dishes, clanking cutlery, and chatter was all-consuming. 

Charlie leaned down and whispered, “I reckon my body will eat itself if I don’t feed it enough.” 

As if he needed to justify his order.  Still, you laughed. “I wouldn’t want that to happen. The dragons need you.”

A natural silence landed over you and Charlie, small talk running low, and you began to glance around the restaurant. The host at the front was a man in his fifties. His name was Jacques, a familiar face. He’d been working here for ages, for as long as you could remember. His suit was perfectly pressed, his grey hair perfectly slicked back, and he was standing ready for the next patron. When two men walked in, Jacques recognized them immediately. 

‘As any good host should,’ you thought.

“Good morning, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Lemieux,” Jacques greeted pleasantly. “Your table is ready for six. Please follow me this way.”

“Hey,” Charlie said. He’d obviously been following where your eyes trailed off to. “Isn’t that your dad?” 

As if silenced by a hex, no words came out. Especially not when Lucius slowly turned to his left, his steely eyes immediately recognizing his own daughter. Irritation immediately crossed his face when he processed the ridiculous outfit you were wearing—the oversized and frayed jean jacket which was clearly not yours. His face only got redder when he appraised the man standing beside you. The man who your jacket clearly belonged to.  

A Weasley. 

And you could imagine what putting two-and-two together resulted in: breakfast after a morning romp in the sheets with Charlie Weasley, wrapped in his jacket after he’d shed all your clothes.

“Excuse me for a second,” Lucius said to his business partner, swallowing his anger for appearances. Mr. Lemieux nodded and followed Jacques to the table instead.

Without a word and with just a quick jut of the head in the opposite direction, you knew exactly what your father was commanding. With a gulp, you followed him.

NEXT CHAPTER >>

<< CHAPTER DIRECTORY

#charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley fic #charlie weasley x reader

[mayabellis]

Random Black family headcanons

The post will be edited

1. Birth mark

Every child from Black family has a "constellation" of moles at their body. That's where they have their names from. Actually only their parents, siblings and romantic partners are aware of this fact beacuse birthmarks are in not very visible places. Eg. Regulus has Leo's contellation at his hip. The reason why Narcissa doesn't have star's name is beacause she wasn't born with Black's birthmark but with Rosier's one (her mother is from Rosier family). It resembled narcissus flower

2. Matching necklaces

When Beallatrix had her first trip to Hogsmade she bought three necklaces with letter "B". She gave two of them to her sisters. Few years later when Andromeda married a muggleborn Bellatrix get rid of her nacklace. She didn't want to be reminded of the traitor. Narcissa stop wearing hers in official situations but she kept it and she was wearing it when she was home alone (or later only with baby Draco). Andromeda never stopped wearing hers. She was taking it of only when she was going to sleep and every next morning she was putting it.

3. Scarf

When Sirius was at his first year at Hogwarts Andromeda borrowed him her scarf. The day was cold, she met him at school grounds and he apparently had forgotten his scarf. Sirus forgot to give the scarf back and that was the year when Andie was ending school. Actually she never asked for return. That's why Sirius kept the scarf. And every time when he was upset he was keeping it close like a teddy bear to think about his favourite cousin. When he was taken to Azkaban and they tried to take the scarf away from him he bit them. Then he was sleeping with it every night. Around 1995 when he met Tonks he gave her old slytherin scarf saying "give it to your mom, tell her I miss her". Dora told him to keep the scarf but then asked Remus for it right after Sirius's death (Remus knew where his best friend (if you prefer boyfriend) used to keep souvenirs). Andromeda got her scarf back not long after she lost her cousin.

4. Hardest choice

Andromeda got pregnant before marriage, while she was still living with her family. When she realised she was expecting a baby she confessed to her mother. She even said that this is muggleborn's child. Her mother (after argument and calling her a slut) found a solution. She told her daughter to marry some pureblood beafore the pregnancy would be visible and raise a child like this man was it's father. That was the moment when Andie decided to run away from home. She couldn't take her baby away from it's real father just for externals. She couldn't raise her baby in a lie. She never wanted to leave Narcissa on her own but there was no other choice. It wasn't just about her anymore. It was about being mother

5. Aristocratic skills

Since pure blood families are equivalent of aristocracy in real world many poeple headcankn Blacks as french speakers. I've also seen headcanons about Black brothers (idk how does this work with Black sisters) playing instruments. And I love both of this tropes but I wanted to add something. First thing: I strongly believe that Blacks (especially girls) were also taught dancing. Second: I headcanon Andromeda and Narcissa teaching their children aristocratic skills. Of course Andie didn't heve to teach her "broken" child but she believed that skills were useful. And here's how did this work in my opinion:

Draco learned to dance and used to play instrument when he was little but when his started Hogwarts he didn't have enough time to practice so he never mastered playing instrument. He never liked to study languages so he didn't learn french and he really regretted it at his 4th year (Triwizard tournament)

Dora learned french, she always thought that was a funny language which made her enthusiastic about learning. She also learned dancing but always when she had a chance she prefered to just jump around the room with her dad to "The Beatles" records. However the skill of ball dancing turned out to be useful during wedding (she led, Monny just trusted like he used to with Padfoot before). Dora never learned to play instrument. She didn't have enough patience

6. Muggle music

Andromeda was the one who intodroduced Sirius to muggle music. When she started frindship with Ted Tonks (I headcanon them as friends to lovers like many people do) she quite fast became fan of "The Beatles". She showed one vinyl to Sirius. At first he wasn't into this music and he started listening to it just because it was muggle. But during the years he was digging deeper and deeper into muggle rock music. Then he found metal. And then with little Remus' help and companion he bacame punk. And many years later he returned favor. He intoduced Dora to muggle punk music (she was raised listening "The Beatels" and she became fan of "Weird sisters" but she didn't know muggle punk).

7. Drinking

Everybody from Black family had high tolerance for alcohol in my opinion. It doesn't mean that everybody drink a lot but they can drink a lot without being really drunk. Even Draco can hold his drink beacuse of his mum. Lucius never had a high tolerance.

#harrry potter #black family #headcanon #heart breaking #wholesome

[churchkey]

i know webgott isn't exactly the ship you primarily write for but GOD i love the way you write modern david webster in maximum volume (and i love his raport with nix it reminds me so much of my own queer friend group in ways i've yet to articulate properly) and i was wondering if you have any headcanons about their coupling and/or their interactions with their friend group (as a couple or individually)?

Haha oh my god, thank you! That's so nice of you to say! I based them loosely on my cousin and his boyfriend, who used to have epic Halloween parties before they got old and decided it was too much work, and if everyone loved it so much, they could damn well volunteer to host it themselves. Alas, no one did.

But David and Joe are still young and fun so let's talk about them. I feel like you should win a prize or something because this is officially the FIRST Webgott ask I've ever received. I do have a few headcanons about them, which did not make it into the fic because I mean, for christ's sake, the thing is already way too long. Anyway, if you'll just follow me...

Even though they knew and liked each other in high school, I don't think they got together until later. Like one time in college they bumped into each other on campus and it was like "I always had a crush on you" - "same" and then they were inseparable. They got married kinda young, around 24 or 25 (I imagined them right around 30 in the fic) and their families were like "... are you SURE you don't want to wait a little longer?" But they don't listen to anyone else, naturally, because what the hell do they know?

I also envisioned them as having gone on some long bike-camping trip up the coast on a tandem bike just before they decided to get married, and something very profound happened on this trip, maybe it just challenged them in ways they'd never been tested before, and they met and overcame those obstacles together and it sort of cemented their bond as a couple. Because if you can successfully ride a tandem with your partner, you can probably weather any storm.

They used to have threesomes with George back in the day but they don't anymore. David and George are good buddies (I've always felt strongly about this, based solely on how George was kind of nice to Webster in that episode when he comes back from the hospital and is just being such a clueless dick). They go see bands together and to see midnight showings of cult movies and stuff like that. Joe actually thinks that if David weren't with him, he and George would be a good couple.

David still has a little teeny tiny crush on Mr. Winters. He wished he knew he was gay when he actually had him as a teacher, but he totally understands why he wasn't out at work.

As mentioned in Ch. 1, they're both journalists. Joe is a sports writer for the major metro daily, David writes for a local news/arts/culture blog. This means they're always out somewhere covering a game or event or whatever, which works for them because the true secret to their success as a couple is their own selfish pursuits of what makes them happy as individuals. They're good at giving each other space to do whatever the fuck they want, knowing that at the end of the day, they don't want anything else as much as they want each other.

Everyone assumes they're about one big blow up away from divorce, but they're actually surprisingly stable. They truly enjoy each other's company and are just as content tending to their flower beds together as they are going to a party or out to the bars with their friends. They worship their cats. They have a Sunday ritual (h/t @anthrobrat) of reading the entire Sunday paper, section by section, David reading the gossip page out loud and being appalled at the list prices of houses in the Real Estate section and saving the Food section because they might actually try one of the recipes this week (they never do). At their core, they're basically just a couple of old queens sliding comfortably into middle age, though their friends would be shocked to see this side of them.

Idk... this is honestly the most I've ever thought about them so I hope it fits with what you were thinking, or at least makes sense with their little cameos in the story. Thanks for the ask, it's always fun to explore and imagine. And thank you so much for reading my stuff! I appreciate you and everyone else who takes the time to read my work so very much. Take care 😍❤️

#band of brothers #fic writing #webgott #lovely asks #to be played at maximum volume

[farieshades]

*cackles*

Anyhow.

Do you belive Harry and Draco to be rivals? If so what do you think of their realtionship?

I believe that Harry and Draco were school-yard rivals, but the two work as foil characters. New to Magic, knows about magic; Raised poor, raised rich. And they work with and against eachother in their scenes. Draco, in the first few books appears cold, 'evil', and has elements of both fear and sadism when near Harry until later books when there are elements of protection and humanity to be seen. On the other hand, Harry is protective (usually of his friends and others, or his parents) and he is shown with a sense of justice, until, it somewhat flips on the head and there are elements of ruthlessness and fear amidst the love he shows others. However, considering how much Draco is mentioned in the books and how often fans write about/on him and his existence influences so much, Draco actualy isn't involved all that often in the books/film. He is mentioned far more than he is interacting, which makes analysis difficult. 

Below, I go year by year through encounters until actually answering this thought.

Pre-hogwarts

Draco comes from an affluent family of pure-bloods where he has been raised thinking certain types of wix are better than others. Rather, this is shown one of the first times we see him interact with Harry on the train/great hall, the whole “They’re saying all down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment[...]You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.” and the Iconic come back of “I think I can tell wh the wrong sort are for myself, thanks.” (pg 81 in my copy, Chapter 6) 

In the same scene he comments, sneering, at Ron’s dress and his lack of wealth. It sets him up as a rival from the moment Harry rejects his offer of friendship. Or, it starts earlier, at Diagon Alley when he comments on Hagrid through the window of the Madam Malkins where Harry responds to Draco’s ‘bored, drawling voice’ coldly (pg 59-61, Chapter 5). From the get go, there is a sense of unrest.

Most of this, I’m going to likely blame on upbringing, because Draco thinks himself superior because of his parents, he has certain thoughts in his head because of his parents, and he won’t question these beliefs for a long while. 

Harry does come from an affluent family, however, the Potter Wealth was more-or-less locked away from him until he entered the Wix world, [and it is unclear if Petunia was getting anything from them, but I do think its strange that Lily Potter would leave her sister with nothing considering the two seemed close up until the marriage to Vernon… Then again, most of the Potter Will was likely ignored anyway because Remus is also left with nothing and Sirius is thrown into prison which, you’d think the Potter Will would mention something about Godparent and Secret Keeper but who knows, they’re Wix, not the most logical sort] thus, grew up poor. Or, he did while the family he lived with had plenty of money. 

And in doing so, he grew up friendless because of his cousin chasing away anyone close to him. So, Harry is desperate to make friends. And in meeting Draco, he is strongly reminded of Dudley. Then, on the train/great hall, Draco insults Ron, the first ‘friendly’ boy he’s met so far. So in progression…. Harry is rescued from an awful house life by Hagrid who is instantly insulted by Draco, then Draco later insults, again, the first friendly face that helped Harry through the border (or well, Mrs. Weasley did.)

Before we move into first year, it should be mentioned that, of couse, Harry is a celebrity and while is not treated as such at school, most students have heard of him, or heard their parents talk about him or at the very least “Potters” in the ending of the Dark Lord and in ending the First War. Dobby says that he has heard much about Harry Potter (book 2) but at this point, he hasn’t been home for more than a month or so, so Dobby has, like most Wix children and thus most House Elves, been hearing about the ‘Greatness’ of Harry for a while now. 

First - Third year

First Year they get sorted into Slytherin and Gryffindor. Rival houses. There's not much change to relationships happening here. We get to see Draco snitching on Harry (getting them both in trouble), and then both putting up brave fronts when they go into the Forbidden forest, now the scene changes whether book or film if Harry is in the forest with Draco or with Hermione but, either way, not much happens in terms of strengthening relationship views one way or another.

Second year there's not much interaction of note to build off of. You get the quidditch scene when Dobby breaks Harry's arm after being taunted by Draco, and you get the fun Slytherin Dorms scene with "Saint Potter, the Mudblood's friend [...] he's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped up Granger Mudblood. And people think he's Slytherin's heir"(pg.166, ch 12)  which, honestly, sounds more to the realm of general annoyance and jealousy almost. The Second year, however, is also when we get the duel, within which, it is clear they don't like each other because they quickly escalate from what they are instructed to do, which shows both feelings of hate early on in the series. 

In the third year, we get the iconic CoMC scene where the Slytherin's are a bunch of assholes 'playing' dementors. Which is cruel and annoying, but in an almost 'pay attention to me' type of way. Something that you might see in teasing someone about a fear you find silly like spiders (I say with arachnophobia),

Fourth Year

There is generalized hostility in the form of schoolyard bullying through these years. However, things take a sharp turn when we go into fourth year. We start with the Quidditch World Cup. In the books both Weasleys (+Harry, Hermione) and the Malfoys are sharing the Top Box area, the prime seating, within which "Draco shot Harry, Ron and Hermione one contemptuous look, then settled himself between his mother and father" (pg 92, ch 8). However, in the movies the Weasleys have their seats in the 'Top' row of the entire stadium and Draco makes a boasting comment about being invited by the Minister. However, there is one missing scene in the films, and that is a very interesting one. 

> Ron told Malfoy to do something that Harry knew he would never have dared say in front of Mrs Weasle. 

> 'Language, Weasley,' said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering. 'Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?' He nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around them. 

> 'What's that supposed to mean?' Said Hermioned definitely. 

> 'Granger, they're after Muggles,' said Malfoy, [...] 'Keep that big bushy head down, Granger,' sneered Malfoy." (pg 110-111, ch 9) 

I note this, because, while it sounds mean, he has absolutely nothing to gain from telling them that there were people targetting muggles and muggle-borns. And, this isn't the first time he's helped. Nothing explicit to be sure, but years back now I did read a post from CoS in which Hermione would never tear a page from a book and what does Harry find when sitting next to the petrified Hermione? A torn page in her hand. Now, in the film, we also see one very specific scene that either shows Draco's lack of care on books as he tears off a page, or, potentially, something more helpful. But that's not quite something to do with the relationship building of fourth year, so we'll continue on. 

There's still the antagonism between the two, but it's still at a schoolyard level, with the example of "Potter Stinks" badges, however this does have the backing of an unfortunately large number of students showing disdain for Harry in the tournament. The next scene of interaction is, roughly, Ferret time in which Draco is initially insulting Harry and goes to curse him before being transformed by Barty Crouch, which I'm sure his father definitely heard about and did nothing about as well. 

Fifth Year

Fifth year is when things get... dangerous between the two. There is an unequal power dynamic as Draco and Pansy are made Prefect along with Hannah Abbott and Ernie MacMillan (Hufflepuffs), Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger (Gryffindors), Padma Patil and  Anthony Goldstein (Ravenclaws). This was, according to Dumbledore, because Ron and Hermione would be able to protect Harry. 

This is also the year that will have an interesting scene reflected in the next, with Mrs. Weasley’s “He is just a boy” about Harry learning about the Order and their fight/protection of the prophecy, contrasting Narcissa’s “He’s just a boy” to Severus when making him swear to protect her son.

This was also the year of Umbitch and the D.A., which inevitably was discovered by Draco and his ‘friends’ and revealed to Umbridge. Now, theoretically, Draco did the right thing because it was an illegal school group. However, it was a school group that was teaching the class the teacher refused to teach, and Draco did this more out of spite because he didn’t like Potter than the fact that he was obeying school rules. 

This year, compared to the next, is rather light on Draco-Harry content and interactions.

Sixth Year

In Sixth year, things are heating up and not in a fun way as there is war brewing outside the doors of Hogwarts. This is when we see Draco take a darker turn as his father is thrown into Azkaban and he puts the blame soley onto Harry as he is tasked with the impossible of killing Dumbledore. We also get the train scene where Draco was ready to knock Harry out and send him back to London theoretically and out of school. In my head, there isn't a real reason for the act of agression outside of the snooping Harry was doing, an imobilizing curse and  a kick to the face can do some serious damage, but Draco's under lots of stress and anger and has also recently been marked by the Dark Lord. Not excusable, but somewhat understandable I suppose "Great Motive, still murder" vibes

This is also the book we learn of Horcruxes, souls broken beyond repair. We learn more of the Dark Lord's past and who he is, while the two boys are on opposite sides of the war. Harry following Dumbledore, doing what he can, and Draco following the Dark Lord, doing what he can. 

Sixth year is also the year of Sectumsempera. The spell was in the wonderful Advanced Potion-Making book that belonged to the Half-Blood prince, with no description of what it did, only the knowledge that it was "For Enemies," and while fighting in the bathroom, as Draco goes to use the Cruciatus curse Harry manages to cast first, causing long cuts across the body. Harry runs out of the scene as Snape fixes what had happened, seemingly shocked and with a definite feel of guilt. Neither boy at this time is a killer, nor do they want to be, but necessity is pushing them towards it. 

At the end of Sixth year, we get to learn that there is mortality of those that seem powerful and larger than life. Both devastating and hopeful. When Draco lets in the Death Eaters, the Order is called to fight back, and the scene is hectic. Both film and books go over it differently. But, generally, Draco is shown to be unable to kill Dumbledore and Harry is unable to get the instant desired revenge against the Death Eaters.

The Year on the Run

We don’t see Draco for most of the book, not until Fenrir and the Snatchers find them because they used the tabooed name of Voldemort. However, at the Manor, Draco saves Harry. Draco plays it off by saying something was wrong with the face, but there is the underlying idea that Draco did know who Harry was and that he refused to tell his family. A bid to save both Potter & friends, but also to end the war. 

And end the war it did. But not yet. 

The next time Harry and Draco are interacting they are in the Room of Requirement when Harry, in the film says, "Why didn't you tell her. Bellatrix. You knew it was me. But you didn't say anything." Draco doesn't respond. This is in reference to the above, but more then, it also potentially shows a side of Draco that we the audience hadn't seen. The humanity, the protectiveness. Or perhaps, the need to escape an awful situation and Harry being the only one believed to be able to stop the Dark Lord. Either way, it shows a sudden turn to the situation. More so, when Harry saves him from the Fiendfyre.

“Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?” The care of a mother, three times over, keeps Harry alive. This time, its Narcissa, who looks to the Dark Lord and lies to his face. 

Now, im going to include a deleted scene cause I find it hilarious and very fitting; The scene when Harry flings himself from Hagrids arms and amidst confusion, Draco throws himself across the courtyard handing him a wand to use. Deleted, yes, but still also very telling in a way, as to how the relationship has shifted in these last few months. 

Then, the battle is over. People count their dead. The Malfoys have vanished from the courtyard having not stayed for the actual battle supposedly. And, Harry is victorious. 

Fanon Eighth Year

There are many takes on Eighth year, but generally there is an idea that should the Golden Trio return, Draco might as well, despite his allegiance to the Dark in the past. 

Some authors have him sent to Azkaban for the summer between and being watched as he finished his final year on probation. Other authors have the Malfoy Money bribing or claimed imperius for Draco to the Ministry officials and so that they get off scotch-free. 

Personally, should Draco return, there would be a distinct shift in the hostility. Those who were crucio’d by the Carrows probably aren’t liking anyone who was a Death Eater. The “Lip-lock jinx” By: Cassis Luna on Ffnet showed it nicely with Draco generally avoiding people and slight harassment towards him. But there are plenty of other eighth year fics that do differently. My own “Hello, Hogwarts too?” has Draco more given freedoms, a bit of a prick still, but not awful.  To each their own on eighth year interpretation really. 

Post-Hogwarts Canon

Nineteen years later. The only reference to Draco in this section is that he has a wife and son, Scorpius, that resembles Draco just as much as Albus Potter resembles Harry. Oh, and he has a receding hairline. And the only interaction is “Draco caught sight of [them] staring at him, nodded curtly and turned away again” which isn’t much to go on. 

Summary

The Post-Hogwarts Fanon is wide and immense and we’re not getting into that cause each author has their own thoughts. 

But -

Do I believe Harry and Draco to be rivals? 

Somewhat. They were during their schooling years. But after Hogwarts, things appear to have changed. It’s also possible that there is similarity in the work environment as Harry likely went on to be an auror as he intended and Draco seemed to be heading into government work. Of course, jobs could take them anywhere and who knows, maybe Harry is a curse breaker or a researcher. Maybe Draco is a healer or a potions master. Too many options to consider as they grow. 

What do I think of their relationship? 

From what is shown in the books/film, they are often pitted against eachother deliberately, and shown as foils of eachother. There isn’t much to go off of if I’m honest, lots of fight scenes and bullying, but also some shared horror and shared competition. Drarry is one of the ships I do prefer in the series, more so when we have either a Creature Inheritance and/or Slytherin!Harry and/or Gryffindor Harry but Dumbledore Bashing/Good Dark Side. The relationship really develops in fanfics rather than the actual series itself. From the ‘lore’ of the written works, that is a dangerous/toxic relationship if they were considered partners or friends. Their relationship in the books is that of enemies. “Arch-enemy” (though he is 12 at the time) as I do believe Harry comments at one point despite having literal Voldemort to contend with, but then, Harry is a dramatic Gryffindor. So… take that with a grain of salt I suppose. 

#Harry Potter #drarry #book analysis

[grismavessel]

Info Dump

I chose Violet and got my Ceruledge and I found a shiny Shinx, so I have one in Arceus and shining pearl as well.

So I think if Gris and Ingo ever go to Paldea they will be reminded strongly of Hisui. Also what pokemon would they catch.

I chose Fuecoco, best decision I made, am now following the titan storyline best I can

How has your experience been :)

We’re on the same wave length because I picked Violet too, and Fuecoco (give me the fire gator) AND I’m still working my way to getting a Ceruledge too! Other than some bugs and glitches (which my game dev nerd brain wants to talk all about) it’s a ton of fun! I haven’t had thing much fun with a main Pokémon game since ultra moon, like Pokémon shield is so boring compared to this, I like the characters a lot more than shield too. (Also I keep forgetting it’s based off of Spain so when I see a Spanish word or food I keep going “oh hey I know that thing” and I just smile)

And I at first kept forgetting that the game wasn’t legends Arceus because it has the feeling and with all of the Pokémon running around I keep getting flashbacks to running away from alpha Pokémon hehe

If Gris and Ingo were to visit and see just how wild and open some of the places are, it would be like home to them. Gris feels that giddy urge to go swinging poke balls everywhere and Ingo almost wishes it was just a little colder in Paldea since he’s used to the chill of the mountains.

(I haven’t gotten that far into the game yet so this is all I have for how they’d react to Paldea) but pokemon wise I think Gris would absolutely love Fuecoco! It’s a little pepper gator, and sure it’s no cool owl, but they’d still think it’s pretty rad. They’d also get Veluza (if you haven’t seen it yet imagine if a metal fish has poison spikes coming out of it) because it’s just a punk fish that would absolutely k.o Decidueye. Revavroom because well, it’s punk, and also grafaiai. I don’t what else, the last two are mainly for companion Pokémon bout when I get later into the game I’ll probably have a better sense of what else Gris would pick.

For Ingo I feel like he’d be a big cyclizar fan, and also Tinkaton and Charcadet. Cyclizar for it’s speed and friendliness, Tinkaton for its strength but adorable (and menacing) look, and Charcadet so he can dress it up as a mini subway master.

That’s all I have to say for what Pokémon they would pick, but as I get more through the game I’ll have more thoughts on how they’d feel with the obvious time travel past/future thing going on

Also working on an au where Gris finds a long lost cousin, when you get to the team star quests you’ll probs guess who

#I could write a thesis paper on how gamefreak built Violet off of the legends code and exactly how they fucked up with the bugs #I’m no game developer but I know a fair amount on game design to pick apart game freak #BUT IM HAVING A LOT OF FUN (genuinely) #Gris and Ingo would feel very nostalgic #pokémon scarlet #pokémon violet #pokémon spoilers #submas #ingo #pokemon oc #pla #text #answering asks

[lonelier-version-of-you]

Right, well, that sure was an episode of Casualty tonight. I’m not really sure what to make of it yet, but I can say one thing for certain - I am RELIEVED Faith didn’t make an appearance (though sadly we have to sit through her again next week).

I’ll start my review with this: what the fuck was up with that “Naylor Award” shit? Casualty, I am begging you to please just stop mentioning Jac. Stop rubbing salt in the wound of how poorly Rosie Marcel was treated. The first time they had Fletch spouting nonsense about how he was “as close [to Jac] as she’d let anyone get” (he was not - that was Sacha, with Elliot as a very close second, then a long list of people like Connie, Joseph, Michael, Henrik, etc. Fletch is probably like, at the bottom of the “how close was this person to Jac” tier ranking, lmao.), and now Jac’s name is invoked completely unnecessarily in what masquerades as a “tribute” to Holby and to Jac’s character specifically, but actually just feels more like an insult to her than anything. Especially given that Casualty could easily have just ignored this whole fiasco and brought Jac in, since the two shows don’t share an exact canon - as long as Casualty didn’t acknowledge Jac’s death, there was no reason not to have her cross over, nothing preventing it in Casualty canon.

Or they could’ve just ignored it full stop. Connie’s not there anymore. If she were, they’d have to pick one or the other. But she’s not, so they literally could’ve just pretended the whole thing never happened.

For fuck’s sake, they ignored multiple serial killers roaming the hospital (Gaskell and Cameron - and remember, Ethan had literally tried to get involved in Gaskell’s trial!). Nearly a year and a half on, they still haven’t acknowledged the literal fucking suicide of Marty’s cousin. A cousin we KNOW he was close to. Making Jac’s death Casualty canon just feels like an absolute slap in the face to Rosie Marcel. Poor woman, she literally wanted to come over to Casualty and instead we get... this.

They could’ve named the award anything. It could’ve even been a reference to the show’s own history, they could’ve named it after a character who died before.

I agree with Dylan - Jac would’ve HATED this.

Also, why are we getting all these callbacks to Holby, but still no acknowledgement of the fact that Henrik left the hospital? They can’t leave the CEO’s identity ambiguous and pander to the “Henrik’s the perfect CEO and no one other than him is ever allowed to have the job!!” viewpoint forever.

Anyway, I have been instantly reminded of how much I adore Stevie Nash tonight. People can go “oh she’s the new Jac” all they like but I still don’t see many similarities between them apart from like, generic “ice queen” tropes that could be applied to Henrik or Connie or even Dylan too. Out of the Bi Ice Queen Trio of Connie, Jac, and Henrik, I’d say Stevie’s most similar to Henrik. In general if I were to compare her to a Holby character, she reminds me strongly of John Gaskell. Stevie really shows just what a brilliant character John could’ve been if he had been well-written.

So yeah, maybe I’m biased because watching Stevie is like having a younger, female, better-written version of John (and sometimes, like having a younger, female, non-misogynist version of Henrik). But nonetheless, I adore her.

The Dylan/Stevie dynamic is very interesting to me. They really do have strong “early-days Henrik and Jac” vibes, and that was really proved by their confrontation in Dylan’s office. Because, like, Dylan would absolutely have done the same as Stevie if he’d been in her position. I have no doubt he would. But because their relationship is already so fraught and so full of friction, we end up with arguments like this where he’s criticising her for what he would’ve unquestionably considered the right decision.

I’m waiting for Dylan and Stevie to get their “So you think we’re alike?”/“[...] Imagine working together. We’d make quite the team.” “Which is precisely why we shouldn’t. It’d be like staring into the abyss.” moment. I hope they do - they deserve a scene like that.

Poor Rash. Just... poor Rash. Jeez. The scene where the racist man choked him was very hard to watch.

Elsewhere in Rash’s life, though, his relationship with Paige is just never going to work, is it? I think that became very clear tonight. I shipped them at the start but I think this latest episode has shown they’re not very compatible.

Speaking of Paige, I did love the top she wore tonight. The black one with all the little stars or whatever they were. It was gorgeous. I’d wear that.

Her responses to the case with the man with HIV and his wife were a bit odd, but I guess she’s meant to be projecting her own feelings about having the BRCA gene? That would make sense. I do think her storyline has been done fairly well so far. At least it is a storyline, unlike Max’s 2-episode BRCA gene story on Holby.

In other news, I was glad the dead colleague mentioned in the spoilers turned out to just be someone the writers made up instead of an old character being killed offscreen. I wasn’t really sure what the point of that part of the episode was, but looking at the spoilers for next week, it seems to be leading to some sort of mid-life crisis or breakdown for Jan? That could be interesting. Di Botcher is one of the best actresses the show’s got, I’m interested in any storyline that lets them use her more.

#BBC Casualty #Casualty spoilers #tw;suicide mention

[reviews-by-shelby]

Clap When You Land by Elizabeth Acevedo

              Clap When You Land is a young adult novel written in verse by Elizabeth Acevedo. It first introduces the reader to Camino Rios, a teenager living in the Dominican Republic who is awaiting the return of her father. He lives in New York City but flies over to spend the summer with her and Tia Solana, the sister of her deceased mother. Camino’s world is shattered when she arrives at the airport to find out that her father’s plane has crashed into the Atlantic Ocean and there were no survivors. As she and her aunt try to figure out how to move on from the tragedy, emotionally and financially, she learns a dark secret: that her father had a secret second family, which includes a daughter named Yahaira who is the same age. As the girls deal with the death of their beloved father, they are forced to reflect on who the man truly was. They also have the chance to connect with each other and share the hurt they both feel.

              This book reminded me how important it is to be around others who understand your grief when you lose someone important. When I lost my grandfather while I was in high school, I felt like my pain was understood when I was with my family and cousins. This happened when Camino and Yahaira were finally able to meet after learning about each other. While there was a lot of pain that they had to sort through first, due to the fact that their father kept them a secret from one another for so long, they were able to form a meaningful relationship that allowed them to find solace in their grief. This book also deals with the subject of infidelity and the effects it can have on others, not just the people who are committing it. It was kept secret from Camino and Yahaira, but Tia Solana and Yahaira’s mother were aware of it all along. I have always felt that infidelity of any kind is inexcusable and should not be tolerated, but the older women made it clear that they were silent about it because they did not want it to affect the girls. This makes sense, and I can see where they’re coming from, but I cannot imagine myself being involved in a similar situation. Since I don’t have an experience like this, that is possibly why I feel so strongly against it, but I may feel differently if I found myself in Yahaira’s mother’s place. She knew her husband had a second wife and daughter, but since she had a daughter of her own, she didn’t want Yahaira’s world to shatter because of her father’s actions. Her mother’s choice seems like it would be hard to follow through with, but I admire her for her strength.

              This novel also addressed an idea that I feel strongly about, which is that family needs to support each other. It took a while for them to get there, but Yahaira and Camino eventually formed a sisterly bond in the face of tragedy. It took some more time for Yahaira’s mother to come face-to-face with her step daughter, but she eventually came around and offered support for Camino when she saw that she was going through a tough situation in the Dominican Republic. While they were reluctant to become a family, the bond was still there and the story of how it came about was sad and beautiful. This book is truly a work of art in my eyes. Acevedo’s writing is beautiful and poetic, and she describes things in a way that I would never think about. At the beginning she even makes mud sound pretty, by writing “& mud got a mind of its own. Wants to enwrap your penny loafers, hug on your uniform skirt. Press kisses to your knees and make you slip down to meet it. ‘Don’t let it stain you,’ Tia’s always said. But can’t she see? This place we’re from already has it prints on me.”

              After seeing that we were required to read a novel in verse, I did a Google search to see what I could find since I wasn’t familiar with this form of writing. It has been a very long time since I’ve read anything like this. I found a reading blog with a good post filled with recommendations for young adult novels written in verse. This book, as well as another one written by Acevedo called The Poet X, were included on the list. I decided to choose this one because I had heard of it when it was first published, and even then I thought it sounded intriguing. I’m glad I gave it a chance because it gave me a reading experience filled with beautiful language, loss, grief, and the journey of dealing with these emotions. I will definitely be checking out this author’s other works. I give this book five out of five stars.

Acevedo, E. (2020). Clap When You Land. Quill Tree Books.

#yabooks

[pray4jensen]

You didn't think Jensen was attractive until season 9? What?!? Also I hope your exam goes well, so good luck!!

thank you!!! i’m trying to prepare for the exam well beforehand so that i can watch the spn finale and stick around after, but we’ll see! i feel pretty good about it though!

and yeah, i was immediately turned off by dean’s behaviour in the first episode of s1. he heads over to sam’s, sees jess in her smurfs shirt, stares at her chest and tells her that he loves the smurfs. he makes her uncomfortable to the point where she says she’s gonna go change her clothes. everything was uncool about that scene. 

so i didn’t like dean for the first couple of seasons. i didn’t even think i would like the show at all because of him, but kept watching because i love being scared and s1 was a pretty standard horror show. ofc there were soft moments where i felt something for him, but i firmly had sam as my fav. character up until s3.

but anyway, long story short, jensen totally blew me away with his acting, esp. when sam died that first time, and by the end of s3, it was very, very clear that almost everything dean did (the womanizing, the whole macho get-up) was an act. dean was actually a super soft boy™, and consequently, he was my fav. character from s4-s9.

#boredombabbles #ask #anon #sorry i didnt really answer the question #i can say a large part of why dean seemed so unattractive to me in the earlier seasons #was because of his behaviour #but also i just didn't find him physically attractive at all #frankly he was so young back then?? #i dont think he really had himself figured out until much later #also he strongly reminded my of my cousin at first #they have somewhat similar facial structure #and the ridiculously over-sized leather jacket that dean wore...that too #tbh i thought sam was cute from the get-go so i didnt pay attention to jensen #and then misha came and i was immediately going wow!!! what an entrance!!! what wild hair!!!! #sadly in the case of jensen #i was too busy being attracted to everybody else to notice him #but like....he had this gr8 facial hair in s9 and he wore some great clothes #he was undeniably beautiful and i finally saw it #i think i just spent all of s9 looking at his face tbh

[ominous-meme]

Speculations and Questions about Free! The Final Stroke Pt. 2

WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS OF PART 1 UNDER THE CUT

Okay, so I’m writing this on desktop because it’s gonna be looooooooooooong. Tagging @caffernnn since they’re also keen on speculating and have welcomed my brainrot.

Having watched The Final Stroke and broken my heart over it and the trailer for part 2, I’ve been wondering what exactly might happen in the next movie, because it’s likely to be the final major installment in the series, and there are several plots and character arcs that need to be wrapped up within a max of 1.5-2 hours (given the runtime of Pt. 1). Note that my Japanese skills aren’t the greatest, so I’m basing my theories and questions off what I understood during the movie and from posts of other viewers whose skills are better than mine. It’s also possible that some of these speculations have been inspired by other meta posts whom I have forgotten about, so please do let me know if that’s the case, and I’ll tag/cite them appropriately! (Part two of this speculation can be found here)

Guide:

S1 - season 1

S2 - season 2

S3 - season 3

FS1 - final stroke pt 1

FS2 - final stroke pt 2

So, what are the things that could possibly happen?

1. Early on in FS1, we learn that Kaede and Ryuuji (whom I hate now) have known each other for several years, and Kaede’s brother? cousin? was seemingly the childhood friend who got into an accident, making Ryuuji have to choose between his friend and his career. Now that Haru has done what Ryuuji “suggested” in terms of cutting Rin off and getting the creepy purple eyes, it’s possible that we the audience will get a greater insight into Ryuuji’s past through Kaede’s perspective, and/or Haru’s friends will encounter Kaede and learn through a conversation with him what exactly went down and why Ryuuji is the way he is. It might also show us how KAEDE became the semi-scary dude we catch glimpses of in S3 and FS1. Mikhail might also be involved here, since he and Ryuuji were rivals, and might tell Rin more about their past as well, giving Rin some clarity on what the hell Haru was on during their confrontation at the end of FS1.

2. Now that Haru has cut Rin off and turned to Ryuuji’s side, there may be at least ONE official swimming meet/tournament where Haru displays his new strength and destroys his enemies a la Albert. But that will be a very different Haru, and his friends are going to be shocked, because his swimming style obviously wouldn’t be what they know is genuinely his. Haru will shut everyone out and focus only on becoming stronger and winning under Ryuuji’s tutelage, and Makoto, Rin, Ikuya, and the others will attempt to snap him out of it. This may lead them to Kaede via Hiyori, and he’d give them a better insight into wtf is up with Ryuuji’s obsession with giving up your loved ones to win.

3. We still haven’t gotten a look at Albert’s past. How did he become the way he is? Why is that old man in a wheelchair calling him a machine? We HAVE to get that insight into Albert, given the effect he’s had on Haru and his swimming abilities and perspective since S3. That definitely has higher chances of happening than some of my other speculations.

4. Free has always centred itself around the value of the medley relay. It’s what kicks the whole story off and has been the central point in both S1 and S2. It fades away during S3 somewhat, but Ikuya and Hiyori participating in it plays a key role in their relationship towards the end. In the trailer for FS2, Makoto VERY CLEARLY mentions something along the lines of it being “400m” towards the next goal, and I believe it was @caffernnn who speculated at first about it implying a relay. I would strongly agree with that, and I think that to get Haru’s head on straight, his friends are going to drag him into a medley relay (formal or informal), and remind him of what swimming truly means to him. In addition, he'd remember that even if he's swimming a solo race, he's never truly alone, because his friends are supporting him from outside. That then raises the question: who would be IN the relay? I think it will be the three with whom Haru has the strongest emotional connections, both inside and outside the water: Makoto (backstroke), Ikuya (breaststroke), and Rin (butterfly). Whatever the results of the relay are, I think it will give Haru some clarity, and enable him to recognize who he’s become and what he wants to be, particularly as he approaches 20 in the coming months - the year he’s supposed to be “ordinary.”

5. Rin and Haru may compete together in one last freestyle race. The ending of S2 showed them taking their positions for one such, and KyoAni has repeatedly done these throwbacks to older seasons, the latest of which was in the trailer for FS2 where they showed the original water commercial with the guys. It wouldn’t surprise me if, in a callback to previous seasons, Rin challenges Haru to a freestyle race in order to see whether Haru is actually as good as he claims to be now that he’s gone all cold and Albert-like. The question would then be, what will happen if DESPITE cutting his loved ones off, Haru STILL loses? That would call into question Ryuuji’s entire policy and whether Haru hurting Rin so badly at the end of FS1 was even worth anything, since Haru can’t even beat someone who doesn’t specialize in freestyle as much as he does in butterfly.

6. Haru will likely get back to his old self, or maybe become a new version of himself that is better - unless KyoAni decides to be particularly sadistic and denies us a happy ending. Both S1 and FS1 have referenced Haru waiting to turn 20 and become ordinary, and given the canonical birthdays of the characters, Haru is literally six months away from reaching that age. Summer is also when many of the major tournaments would happen. So how will Haru view his abilities once he’s reached that age? Will he celebrate his 20th birthday during his purple-eye phase or afterwards? I think Haru will eventually come to terms with who he is, and find a way to swim that allows him to take on the world and win WITHOUT compromising on the things and people that mean so much to him. It’s possible that if Haru gets rid of Ryuuji, then Makoto will become his coach and guide him to that balance, since he understands Haru the best.

7. Now, in S3 when we heard about Ryuuji’s past, many of us remember that the next shot was of Makoto who (thankfully) was spared in FS1, despite many of us worrying that something bad might happen to him. However, there’s a chance that Haru may be forced AGAIN to choose between his friends and his success if FS2 has something bad for Makoto in store, particularly given the strange vision Makoto had in FS1 about losing sight of Haru. Will Haru be able to leave MAKOTO of all people behind? Even if he’s in his purple-eye phase?

8. I’m sure I’m not even the only blog to have considered this, but they’ll definitely be bringing all the time capsules out by the end of the movie, and reflecting on who they’ve become.

One thing is for sure: the soundtrack is going to be badass as always. Unfortunately, I don’t know if the movie will end with Haru being in therapy, because God knows the poor guy needs it now.

So these are my speculations and questions about what we might expect to see in April! Feel free to add in your own thoughts!

#free! #free! the final stroke #free! the final stroke spoilers #final stroke spoilers

[sizeshiftingdeath]

Ends and Starts (MCYT G/T Exchange!)

Hello there sizeshiftingdeath! I received your prompts for the gift exchange, and while I tried to start pretty close to your prompt, my ideas kind of spiraled out of control, I hope you don't mind ^^' I can make something else with another prompt if it doesn't fit what you were hoping for, though! There's also a little bit of extra information down the bottom with some stuff I thought of about the au I accidentally made.

Prompt given: ‘A human caught in the rain finds a giant in the forest’

<please put a read-more here!>

The world is pockmarked with evidence of the tragedies of the past. Of warped land that paints the horrors that befell things that came before. The living reminders of them continue to live on in perpetuity, as immortal creatures that were wreathed in the horrors that life on Earth had endured in the past. 

Bask in their horrible might.

There is the Death from Burning and Fire and Falling from the Sky and Cold Choking Death, the End of the Cretaceous. A massive beast, the bloody end of an era of enormous fauna. A destruction made all the more powerful by how quickly it was achieved. It stalks the land and sea and, where it steps, the plants die of lack of sunlight and the ground turns to tar.

There is the Death from Ever Hunting and Chasing and Too Warm Too Bright - Tech, the man-shaped leviathan, death in the shape of something familiar to mankind, the Killer of the Pleistocene. The death of great megafauna in an icy world from the encroaching warmth of a new era, the sharp point of a spear. It hunts the world with spears and arrows of fire and, in the depths of its nest, all water has turned to vapor and the earth itself has become a wasteland. 

There is the Death of Falling Frozen Seas, of a primordial sea strangled to death under a glacier lock, Her Lady of the primaeval oceans, the Death of the Ordovician. The tail-end of an explosion of life, stretched too far by their own hubris. And yet, despite being a beast with a hundred trilobite and eurypterid faces, one that has a herald in the form of a human by Her side, for reasons that have yet to become known. Maybe, just like every other esoteric thing that such beasts may do, it shall remain a mystery forever.

Look and see. A new immortal is emerging from its eggshell of tragedy. The unstoppable bomb and burning oilfield. The death through hubris and a slow choking unraveling of your very being. The death of man from crackling radiation and tainted iridescent-film water and ash filled smoke. The destruction of the Anthropocene.

Except. This is a creature who was born prematurely. Because man is not dead nor feeling its own final throes. It was not born wreathed in the screams of the damned, only the fears held in the hearts of the still-living. It is naïve and curious and did not yet have the star of a hundred million species’ souls to power it yet. It was stunted.

And that is why the first human the newest apocalypse met was so important.

  …

  The forests are deep and dark. Quiet yet shivering with life. Constantly moving and yet trapped in some space between time. Most of all, they expected nothing more from you than for your own two legs to be able to travel. Ranboo liked that. 

It certainly was nicer than what he had to deal with outside of the forest at least. Here he could continue walking and listening and breathing for as long as he still could move forward. This forest in particular was a favorite, with a constant twilight quality to it that played into its timelessness. 

He stumbled over a log, slipping slightly on the slick moss, and focused as strongly as he could on his surroundings. It was hard when he could so quickly slip into his thoughts. He needed to enjoy his surroundings. He needed to stay in the present and not phase out like fog.

Ironically, it was his attempts to ground himself that prevented him from noticing what was slowly growing more wrong in the forest around him. The scent of ash in the air. The lack of birdsong or rustle of leaves. The trees, growing darker and more burnt-looking, and the dead logs that were bristling with fungi.

But when he stepped out into a clearing with an enormous rock embedded into the middle of it, Ranboo really couldn’t help but realize all of the discrepancies. The illusion of an eternal twilight had been broken with the red light that streamed down. The ground was distressingly clear of ground cover, instead dusted with ash. 

Forest fire? He hadn’t heard of any in the area but… What else would it be?

Ranboo looked up at the sun, which had meandered towards the west since he had entered the forest. There were dark clouds gathering above him in worrying amounts, and the air was a little hard to see through with the particles suspended in it. He frowned at it. 

Something was wrong here, he could sense it in a deeply animalistic kind of way. As if there was something screaming in his hindbrain to run.

He didn’t run. This was the forest that he has walked a hundred times before, when did this happen? Why had this happened? He needed to find out.

Overhead, thunder rumbled. A droplet of curiously dark water fell on his face.

Ranboo stepped towards the other side of the forest clearing that should not have been there.

And that's when a living embodiment of a mass extinction came shambling out of the ashen trees.

  Ranboo didn’t know which detail he noticed first about this rogue apocalypse beast. Was it the limp brown hair that was almost black with iridescent oil slick? Was it the enormous horns that curled jutting from its face and looked more like scrap metal than keratin? Was it the uranium-glass green stripes that criss-crossed like cracks in ceramic along it’s skin? 

Or was it the fact that this one was shaped like a man? 

The apocalypse beasts always most resembled the myriad that had died in their creation. The death of the Ice Age looks vaguely like a man,  if squinted at, mostly because so many cousins to humanity had died in its formation. It was more like an enormous boar-beast on two legs that had the arms of a man, if anything. This one did not look remotely like the death of the Ice Age. 

Ranboo took a flying leap from horror and realization to hysteria. This is the death of humans. The death by nuclear bombs and smoke and oil. The fabled next apocalypse beast, the bringer of the end of the world, was already here.

For a moment of absolute blinding terror he wondered if this meant that all other humans on Earth were dead now. That today was the day the entirety of humanity died, leaving just him wandering the forest endlessly. That nuclear armageddon occurred and he was out there worried about keeping himself grounded enough to admire the birds.

The beast - and he was never in doubt that this was an apocalypse beast, even if he had never seen any of the others in person before something shook like a leaf in his soul simply from being near it - loomed over him. It watched him like a bug under a glass with nuclear hazard yellow-and-black eyes, and the spell of frozen muscles snapped in Ranboo. He bolted towards the boulder in the middle of the clearing and pushed his way into a space between it and a smaller boulder at its base, scrambling to find a smaller crack to squeeze himself into to just get himself out of reach of the beast, of the black water, of everything.

He could hear a rasping, clicking-crackling sound. (A Geiger Counter.) He could see glowing green-striped fingers reach under the edges of the rock he had wedged himself under. Could see, in the sickly chartreuse light they cast, fingernails larger than his head catch the rock. Felt the weight of the boulder lift from his back. 

Ranboo was left crouching and shaking, so scared he couldn't breathe (or maybe it was the ash or the slimy water that couldn’t be rain), as the apocalypse beast crouched down further. It crackled and clicked with a mouth that seemed all too human to be able to make those noises, and then it. Crooned? With a voice that was more like a siren shriek turned down, weirdly echoey as if speaking from far away, it clicked and whined and Ranboo was so confused he didn’t even see the hand reach down and pick him up by the back of his shirt.

He screamed and flailed, imagination jumping into overdrive about what horrifying things the beast could do, and just as quickly, he was dropped with a whoomph to the ground and the death of Mankind jerked back. Ranboo gasped and sputtered as half of face got thoroughly soaked with ash-water mud, and hoisted himself up again to get away from the apocalypse beast.

Who was crouching over him, luminous trefoil eyes barely a foot away from his own, still crooning that awful siren tone. From this close Ranboo could faintly see radiation burns pockmarking its skin, and a horrible scar of curled and ridged skin along its face, as if it was victim to a close-range bomb explosion. 

It tilted its head, leaning a tiny bit closer, and Ranboo threw his arms up to cover his face. God, it itched where the ash water had splashed on him. Why was it itching so much?

The death of Mankind stopped again, looking up into the sky and then down at Ranboo again. It seemed to come to a conclusion, because it then slowly - oh so slowly, why was it being careful? - cupped its hands out in front of it and held them out to him.

It… Wanted him to climb on. Into the grasp of a literal specter of death specifically designed with the destruction of his own species in mind.

Ranboo, in a moment of blind panic and stupidity, climbed on. It looked polite, he reasoned. He was already going to die just from being close to this thing. 

It continued to… yes, it definitely was cooing now, in that horrifying voice, and for a moment Ranboo wondered if maybe he misinterpreted. Maybe this thing wasn’t meant to represent the nuclear apocalypse.

His eye had started to itch where the water touched it. He rocked himself in the grasp of this giant, feeling footholds in the craggy radiation-worn skin, and felt the side of his face. 

The moment e touched it, a white-hot flash of horrible burning pain hit him like a truck, knocking him into a stupor of yelling. It was as if his face was burning, was twisting and gnarling just as much as the apocalypse beast’s horns did. Under his hand, stiff with pain and unable to move away, he could feel skin slough off, could feel the cells themselves die off in droves, in response to whatever radiation or toxin was in the ash-water. 

He couldn’t even register the sensation of fingers larger than his torso curling around him and holding him steady, of him being pressed up against a vast chest that beat unsteadily like a stuck clock, of the vast thumps of footfalls against a diseased forest floor.

All he could feel is pain, burning coiling tunneling pain that tried to tear out his face, his hands, his neck, burning him bright and radiant like a star. 

  …

  The creature was screaming in its hands. It hadn’t stopped screaming for a long time. 

It was small and writhing and melting. Creatures usually didn’t like melting. 

The death of Humanity wasn’t sure how to make it stop. It had dashed out of the black-rain (that seemed to make the melting worse, maybe it’ll stop once it’s out of the rain?) to its home cave, hoping that perhaps it could figure something out in the comfort of its own home. 

The creature’s screams had died down, though whether it was from its pain being alleviated or their voice giving out, the death of Humanity couldn’t tell. All it could tell was that it wasn’t getting up, wasn’t looking at it with those wide curious scared-but-interested eyes. 

Most animals ran from the death of Humanity. Land-creatures would yell in fear and flee, birds would rise up into the sky in huge swarms only to be struck down by the black-rain. Even insects would twitch and die when they got near, which led so many to flee this part of the forest entirely. It was a lonely existence. But this human hadn’t run like the other animals had. It had hid, yes, but it had viewed the death of Humanity in all of its glory and it almost, almost, was ok with it being picked up. 

And then something had happened and now the human was dying just like all of the other animals and the Nuclear Apocalypse didn’t know what to do.

Be well. Be alright. Be just like you were before, it thought, delicately laying the twitching human on the ground out of reach of the dripping black-water puddles, in a nest of dried grasses and leaves that had swept into the cave over the years. It prodded the human with a finger, whining softly when all it did was spasm like a dying insect. It wasn’t dying, right? It was just hurt? It couldn’t be hurt, the death of Humanity wouldn’t allow it. Not when it was so curious and didn’t flee like the others. Not when the death of Humanity had a chance to learn from it. Even now, writhing in its palm, it could feel the frantic beating of life and warmth, things it had so rarely seen before.

You will be well. You must be well. I will make you well.

  ...

  When he came to, it was to complete darkness.

Well, no. Not totally. There was a faint glimmer of far away light somewhere to his left. A shuffling shadow, a faint sickly green glow.

His right was totally dark though, and he couldn’t quite open his eye. He almost brought his hand up to touch it before violently flinching as he remembered what had landed him here in the first place. Would it start burning and melting horribly like it did before? That he was even awake to wonder that is a miracle in of itself... Or the start of the second round of his torture.

Horrible curiosity pushed him to touch, as lightly as possible, the skin on his right cheek. It… He couldn’t feel it. Or rather, he could feel the sandpaper surface of extremely rough skin, but he couldn't feel the pressure, the burning bright pain. The entire area was dead to the touch.

Ranboo threw himself as upright as he could make himself, which ended up only being a half kneel before falling back over into a sit. His breath hitched and he felt his face more firmly, the rough scratchy surface of skin that splattered like paint over the right side of his face, over his eye, down his neck and onto his arm. The muted tingling where it met smoother skin along his shoulder and the bridge of his nose. In an act of desperation he even poked at his eyelid, trying to pry it open to see if he could ever see from that eye again. 

His hand passed in front of his working eye in that moment, and at this point his focus had sharpened enough to make out vague colors in the dim light. His hand… It was a black far darker than any human could naturally produce, with a grey-green cast that made him look sickly. 

I feel sickly, he reasoned to himself. What is going on? He waved his hand a little frantically, as if the new midnight shade was something that was just stuck to his skin. Desperately he held up his other (totally numb to the touch) hand, hoping it hadn’t changed too.

Well, good news - it wasn’t midnight black.

Bad news - it was a shade so pale that it looked totally devoid of blood. And the raspy surface he could feel didn’t look any prettier to the eye. It didn’t have that same grey-green tint to it though, which was nice, because it would’ve shown up really well on this pure white canvas.

Why was he even thinking about looks right now? He was in the den of an Apocalypse Beast Ranboo get your head together! This was absolutely not the right time to space out - he needed to stay in the moment!

His hands were shaking uncontrollably as he tried to get himself upright. He had only just gotten himself steady when he felt the rattle of large footsteps shake through the ground. Before Ranboo could even think to run though, the shadows out of the corner of his eyes resolved into the beast, which made its way all too quickly towards him. 

He couldn’t run if he wanted to. And besides, the damage done to him would probably kill him. He was on borrowed time as is. What did he have left to do but to see what the beast did?

It slowed as it came closer, reaching out a vast clawed hand towards him. Despite his resignation towards his fate, Ranboo flinched back as it came way too close way too fast. A movement that the beast obviously didn't notice or interpret or care about, because he was scooped up into its palm without a moment's hesitation. 

“No!” He yelled, wriggling and pushing away from the cage of fingers around him. The beast paused in bringing him up to its face, and if Ranboo was being generous he could call the look on its face a frown. 

In less than a blink the face of the beast was so close way too close and he almost punched it (for all the help that would do) out of reflex. It blinked at him with those lucent yellow-black eyes, laser sharp in their focus upon him. He felt for all the world like an ant being peered at through a magnifying glass. Maybe he’ll be fried like one too. 

“What do you want with me?” He asked, voice cracking in fear. “What is it you want?” 

It didn’t answer in that siren tone again, but instead shifted its weight to the side and turned its palms so that Ranboo was standing squarely in one of them. The other was drawn up and one sharp-clawed finger was pointed at Ranboo. Or, well. The side of Ranboo’s face that he couldn’t see from just yet. 

He trembled with the anticipation of the jagged nail at the end of the beast’s outstretched finger spearing forward. But all it did was touch, very gently, under the damaged eye. The beast frowned even more. 

Then it jabbed at him, hard enough to bruise but not much else, directly into Ranboo’s damaged eye. He yelped and jumped away, tumbling off his feet in the cup of the beast’s fingers and slapped a numb hand over numb face. Even if he couldn’t feel the area, it still surprised him enough to believe for a moment he could sense it again. Except… was that still his imagination? The eye under his pale skin was starting to itch and water, the first sensation he felt from it since he had woken up, and with a gasp he was able to open his eye. 

Fuzz. That’s all he could see from that eye. The beast leaned forward and poked at his face again, softer this time, and when he opened his eye again the world had snapped into focus, tinged with red around the edges. He blinked a few times, and felt a trail of something wet leak from that eye onto his cheek.

What had happened? “You… You healed me?” He asked up at it. It was still frowning even as he had two working eyes again, and muttered softly in a voice that sounded like something crumbling into splinters. Then it poked him for a third time, this time on the shoulder, and Ranboo held back a yell of pain as the area lit up in a blaze of sensation that felt like liquid fire. As he watched, the black skin around the edges of the wound cracked and veins of bright green glowed beneath.

Just… Like… The beast…

Oh no.

The pain of his nerves coming back to life was nothing when compared to the cold horror that had bubbled into his stomach. There was a single case of a human managing to gain immortality as a result of an apocalypse beast. One of the first beasts, Her Lady of the Primordial Sea, the beast of the Ordivician extinction, had taken pity upon an ancient human who was trapped in the glacial ices that herald her path across the Earth, and had gifted it with immortality and a pair of wings that made him as beastly as the Lady he served.

Nobody knew exactly why the Angel of the Deaths had been spared, and why not a single human had ever had that happen before or since. All that was really known about him was his violence, and that he had an uncanny ability to be where an apocalypse beast would be travelling to next. He was just as inhuman and alien as the beasts themselves, if in a smaller form.

It had only ever happened once. Until now, obviously.

Ranboo stared at his white hand, prickling with waking nerves under the surface and twisting with green strands that trailed under his skin like angry snakes, and knew that he was a monster now. Somehow, it was freeing. Like he finally got an answer to a question he had asked over and over. Why him, why now, why is he still alive, why is he not afraid enough…

He stared back up at the apocalypse beast and it blinked down at him. It was no longer frowning, only looking thoughtfully now. “You’re not going to hurt me.” It wasn’t a question.

It reached a hand back up, maybe to poke him again, but this time rubbed his hair very lightly. He did not flinch this time, steeling up his willpower to allow this touch (It won’t hurt him. He needs to keep repeating it until it is true. It won’t hurt him. He was its now it wouldn’t hurt him).

It made that soft crooning noise again, like it had before lifting the rock he had been hiding under, and despite it being underlaid with sounds specifically designed to inspire fear in humans, he could find himself getting used to it. (Would have to. He’s an abomination now after all. The second angel.)

“You’re not so bad, are you…” He slowly pushed himself to his feet, flexing his newly sensated hand carefully. “I still don’t know what you are or why you are here now but…”

The beast tipped its head curiously and warbled exactly the same words back at Ranboo. He froze, because it was so much like his own voice except under deep layers of static, before shaking his head. Best get introductions out of the way - this creature was obviously smart. It was the death of Humanity after all.

He pointed to his chest. “Ranboo.” He gave it a few pokes for emphasis, and the beast poked him too before mimicking his name. He wasn’t entirely sure it actually got what that meant but, well. Baby steps. 

Then he pointed at it. It blinked a few times (and Ranboo really couldn’t help but anthropomorphize its reactions - this thing was just too uncannily human to not) and chirped out another ‘Ranboo.’ He gestured more firmly, pointing at the beast. 

It continued to look with (probably) bafflement for a few moments, before letting loose a cacophony of sounds that sent Ranboo’s hands slapping over his ears. It was all of the sounds of falling trees, of squawking birds, of the blazing sun and frigid cold and most of all the explosive fire and cold falling ash-water and death from sickness. It was everything and more that wrapped up the death of Humanity in a nutshell. 

Ranboo blinked. That might take a while to learn how to pronounce.

  He decided to call it Tubbo for short. 

<End> There we have it! I hope that you enjoyed this - I hope it didn't betray too much how much stuff like this interests me and that this was potentially also 3000 words of me nerding out about mass extinctions.

Anyways, here's some details I had added but had no way of explaining naturally within the story that i was a little proud of ^^'

The Anthropocene apocalypse beast is also called the unstoppable bomb and burning oilfield. Shortened to TUBBO. Ha.

There’s 7, now 8 apocalypse beasts (Great Oxidation Event, Ordovician, Devonian, Permian, Triassic, Cretaceous, Pleistocene, and now Anthropocene). I originally intended there to just be 5 (for the big five mass extinctions) and then a 6th Anthropocene apocalypse beast, but then I thought I really should add in the great oxidation event that almost caused extinction of all non-oxygen breathing creatures on a very early earth, and the death of most megafauna in the Pleistocene era. 

Society is way different with these living eldritch abominations just shambling across the globe, causing a trail of destruction behind them. A lot less large cities, for one.

The Ordovician apocalypse beast is Kristin, yes. She’s uplifted Phil into something similar to what Ranboo is now. I kinda want to think more about her and her story with Phil.

The Pleistocene apocalypse beast is Techno. Idk why I chose to do that but it seemed to fit. Especially since the leading theory on Pleistocene megafauna death is humans hunting them, which I think fits Techno pretty well

The rain is black rain - rain full of radioactive fallout. Bad Stuff, definitely not what you should seek out if you want to keep your body in working order.

I kept referring to sirens in Tubbo’s speech. Just imagine every emergency warning broadcast sound except even more terrifying 

So Ranboo’s skin is majorly fucked up. For one, he’s suffered major radiation damage to the side that is now white (healed over brand new skin). The black half is much more interesting though. Did you know there are types of fungi that can feed off of nuclear radiation? They protect themselves from the effects by secreting a LOAD of melanin, making them extremely dark. Anything that wasn’t newly healed on Ranboo had now become akin to those fungi now. Feeding rather than harmed by the nuclear radiation Tubbo naturally puts off. Perfect for a newborn Angel of the deaths.

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Thank you so much for this story submission!! I really love this idea and how well you wrote it! this is so amazing! ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

#submission #mcyt g/t exchange event #mcyt #g/t

[theeslytherinslut]

12 Grimmauld Place (5/?)

Pairings: Sirius Black (post Azkaban) x reader, Remus Lupin x reader’s brother, Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader 

Word Count: 2,909

Warnings: lil angsty

A/N: The longest chapter yet and it’s entirely in Sirius’ perspective! Hope I wasn’t too far off from his inner monologue. Also lots of spicy Tonks cause I love her. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6

Sirius’ POV

Feeling intrusive, I caught Tonks’ eyes as Remus and Y/N hugged each other, her sobbing into his shoulder. With a quick twitch, I signaled to her that we let them have a moment. She nodded and followed me into the living room. 

“Still haven’t gotten around to cleaning anything, have you?” she teased, gesturing to the layer of dirt and dust that seemed to cover every inch of the house. 

“Whenever you feel up to joining in...” I teased back. 

“Well, it looks like you’ll have Y/N to help you with that,” she responded, raising her eyebrows at me in a funny way. 

“What?” I asked. 

“Y/N,” she looked at me meaningfully. But not knowing what she meant, I stared blankly back. “You men--it’s a wonder you make it up in the morning by yourselves...Obviously, her flat is no longer safe. She’ll have to stay out of sight for a while too. What better place to both be safe and stay out of sight than here?” 

“Stay here?” I asked dumbly. Sure, I figured she’d stay the night, but it never occurred to me that this would be the best place for her. But now that Tonks pointed it out, it did make sense. Not like she could go back to her blown flat; besides, she was vulnerable there. Vulnerable and alone. 

“Yes, cousin. Are you alright?” she laughed at my bewildered state, but I didn’t find it so funny. It was difficult to ignore my feelings for her when I wasn’t seeing her every day. How was I supposed to manage now? 

At school, it was easier to manage. In the hallways, I’d look at anyone but her, smirking at any girl I caught looking at me, any sort of distraction. But when Moony wanted to go have a chat with her, well, I’d have to plainly look away, instead contenting myself with glaring at passing male members of her house, daring any of them to speak up or look at her. 

Remus had made his views very clear in the year of her arrival. He’d been gushing about since first year, always saying how she’d enjoy something or another. I still remember her terrified face during Sorting dissolving into a bright smile when her eyes found us seated at the Gryffindor table. Remus waved excitedly at her from his seat, the rest of us doing the same--all hoping she’d soon join us. However, upon seeing the rest of us with him, her face turned bright red, and her eyes went terrified once more. Before I could even shoot her a reassuring smile, she’d turned back to McGonagall. Unfortunately, she’d been placed in Slytherin, something we never let poor Moony forget. That night in the common rooms after everyone else had long gone to bed, he’d made us all swear to never lay a finger on her--to essentially be another three big brothers--never to look at her in any sort of way. Of course we all made the promise, but I couldn’t honor it. 

I still found myself scouring the Great Hall for her face at mealtimes, ducking around shelves in the library in between classes looking for her. I always made sure to be on my best behavior in front of Remus, but behind his back, my eyes couldn’t wait to hungrily devour his sister. Her witty remarks as some Gryffindor teased her, her filthy mouth when a fellow Slytherin made the wrong comment--and just when I thought I couldn’t fall for her any more deeply, I’d caught her hexing a Gryffindor in the corridor. The poor bloke came out a few seconds later, clutching his jaw and nose, both of which were expanding at an alarming rate. She came skipping round the next moment, smiling broadly at her achievement. It was all I could do not to kiss her right then. 

“Sirius?” Tonks asked, pulling me from my memories. 

“Sorry, yes?” I asked, trying not to appear as anxious about it all as I was. 

“What’s your problem?” she asked. Looking at her, I weighed my options. On the one hand, the only living soul who knew about how I felt about Y/N was now no longer, in fact, living. On the other, keeping it such a secret allowed me to continue in my friendship with Moony. Lovely as she was, I couldn’t have anything come between us. Not when we were the only ones left. 

“I--” I started to begin the story, but upon remembering James, I stopped. “Nothing.” 

“Sirius,” Tonks started, an offended look on her face. “I am your cousin. You tell me right now, or I’ll go get Remus, and he will.” 

“You would, wouldn’t you,” I said, a fond smile coming on my face as I looked at her. 

“I most certainly would.” she threatened. With her hands on her hips, I was suddenly reminded strongly of Mrs. Weasley, which only made my smile bigger. “Now, go on and tell me, you grinning git!”

“Alright, lower your voice. Can you keep a secret?” I asked, looking at my hands. 

“Course I can,” she indignantly responded. 

“Well, there’s a, a slight--er, problem, with Y/N staying,” I said quietly, keeping an ear out for her sniffles. 

“Problem? What problem? Not like you don’t have enough rooms. Or is it you fancy her or something?” she said, laughing. I kept quiet, and after a moment or two, realization began dawning on her face. 

“Oh, but Sirius, she’s Remus’ sister!” Tonks said, looking at me scoldingly. 

“Don’t you think I know that, Nymphadora?” I barked, angry that she responded the way I feared.

At the sound of her birth name, her hair began burning bright red, and I retreated. 

“Sorry, it’s just--I know, okay? I’m very much well aware of the fact she is Remus’ sister. Why do you think I’ve kept my distance all these years?” I said. 

“Likely cause you were in Azkaban,” she pointed out. I gave her a nasty look, and she smiled softly. “Next time, don’t use my full name.”

I rolled my eyes and began anxiously pacing the floors. This was wrong; this was all wrong. The one girl Remus said was off-limits. All he let me get away with all those years at Hogwarts. With a fresh pang of guilt, I recalled a put-out looking Remus looking at me while I talked to a tall, blonde Ravenclaw during Charms. It was only years after I learned he’d had a thing for her--but to my defense, I’d have backed off without a complaint if he’d only told me. 

“All these years?” Tonks said, liking working things out in her head. “Surely that doesn’t mean...since Hogwarts?” 

“Yes,” I admitted miserably. “Since her first year.” 

“First year?” she shouted. 

“Keep down your voice.” I hissed at her, pausing to hear Remus speaking softly to Y/N. 

“Sorry,” she winced. “But really, since first year and you’ve never said anything?” 

“Well, I couldn’t. Remus made us all swear to leave her alone--and bloody hell, was that a job. After school, it was easier, once I was able to keep my distance. Out of sight, out of mind, as the Muggles say. Sorry, you know how Arthur loves his Muggles.” I laughed as she gave me a funny look. “And then--as you so astutely pointed out--I was in Azkaban. So it really hasn’t been a problem these last few years.” 

“But now she’s living in your house,” she pointed out. 

“Precisely,” I responded, running a hand over the scruff on my face. She remained quiet, looking thoughtful for a few minutes before responding. 

“Well, this is just bloody ridiculous. You’ve got to do something,” she said. 

“Do something? Do what? How could I betray Remus like that? He’s the only one left, Tonks. How am I supposed to betray him this way, especially after James, and then all the time apart, and then managing to let Peter slip through our fingers? I can’t do this to him.” I reasoned, beginning to harden my resolve. 

“Oh, you are bloody ridiculous, you know that?” she sighed, running her fingers through her now bubblegum-pink hair. 

“Excuse me?” I said, stopping my pacing to glare at her. 

“Bloody ridiculous!” she repeated, “Sirius, that was years ago. That was a feeble promise forced to be made by an older brother before his friends got horny and couldn’t think straight.” 

“What?” I said, pulling a face as I considered her words. 

“Remus made you all promise that so young so she wouldn’t become a plaything of yours, especially when the both of you turned out to be such whores.” Tonks laughed. 

“Whores? I was not a whore! And certainly not James, why after fifth year I don’t think I ever heard so much as a comment about any girl besides Lily.” I defended the both of us, vaguely aware of how I’d ridiculously brought my hands to my hips in indignation. 

“Sirius, you’re family, you know I love you--but Merlin, you were the biggest sodding slut the whole of Gryffindor has ever seen! I’d bet there isn’t a room in the castle you haven’t done something naughty in.” she laughed once more. I opened my mouth to protest, but couldn’t come up with a room fast enough--only proving her point. 

“Now, you two are not schoolchildren anymore. You are a grown man, Sirius. There’s no need to honor such a trivial and unnecessary pact.” She took a step towards me and put her hand on my cheek, dropping her voice. “Think of how much you’ve suffered, Sirius. Think of what you’ve lost; think of who you have lost. Remus has suffered the same loss. He lost James just as you did, but he also lost you. He thought you’d gone bad, thought Peter dead--James and Lily were dead. And then, years later, you return--innocent. You came back to him, and he, you. Things like that change a man. I’m sure there’s no one on this planet he trusts more with his sister than you. Don’t sacrifice your happiness for one more minute, cousin. Especially not when things look so similar to how they looked before, back when it all went wrong. Don’t waste another minute; I’m not going to either.” 

Shaken at her words, I remained quiet for a few moments. So much had changed since that night in Gryffindor tower. Maybe he wouldn’t mind the idea so much anymore. Besides, he trusted me enough to keep her safe.

My happiness...I’d never given the idea much thought, never considered it much of a possibility after being imprisoned. Never had reason to since. But now, my brain was swimming with possibilities. 

“Hang on,” I said, remembering the end of her monologue. “You aren’t going to either?”

She cursed under her breath before looking at me.

“Noticed that, did you?” she grimaced. I merely looked at her expectantly. “Alright, fine. Can you keep a secret?” 

“I mean, if I outed you, you could just out me,” I pointed out.

“True, alright. Well, it’s Remus,” she whispered, avoiding my eyes. 

“You and Remus?” I asked, frowning in thought. 

“And what about it?” she said, looking at me testily. 

“Well, nothing really. It’s just I never thought about it...are you sure?” I asked after a moment. I loved them both, but the thought had never even crossed my mind once. Surely if there was something between my cousin and my best friend, I’d have suspected something by now. 

“Of course I’m sure, you git,” she hissed at me. 

“So then why aren’t you together?” I asked. I couldn’t think of any reason they shouldn’t be if they both felt that way. Not like I had a sit down with the lot of them about not dating her. 

“Because he too is being ridiculous. Refuses to even look at me most of the time. Says I’m too young, says I deserve better than him.” 

“Better than Moony? Good luck with that one, cousin.” I laughed, shaking my head at the thought. 

“That’s what I keep saying, but he’ll hear none of it. Says I deserve better than a shabby, poor old werewolf.” she rolled her eyes. 

“Is that really what he thinks of himself as? A shabby old werewolf?” I asked, sad for my friend. If anybody deserved happiness, it was Remus. Before she could answer, we heard him calling. 

“Pads?” I suddenly heard. He entered the room alone, smiling softly at the two of us. 

“Hey, mate.” I smiled at him, opening my arms once more. Remus had always grudgingly accepted my affection, which only made me more inclined to give it knowing it bothered him. And as I knew he would, he rolled his eyes and smiled as he accepted. 

“Perhaps we should stay...” Remus said, looking to Tonks and then back to the kitchen. 

“Ooh no, you don’t. We’ve got to go, cut up sister or not. Besides, who better to take care of her than Sirius? Isn’t as if he’s got anything better to do. Perhaps she could persuade him in actually cleaning something in this wretched house.” Tonks added, gesturing to filth. I glared at her but remained silent; she was right. The house was filthy, but it was painful enough to be here, let alone restore the bloody thing.

“Suppose you’re right...” Remus said after a moment, “Take good care of her, Pads.” 

“Course I will, Moony. Always took good care of you, didn’t I?” I jeered.

“Not bloody likely! And don’t you go taking credit for that, that was all Madam Pomfrey,” he scolded, wagging his finger at me like he used to as a Prefect. “The group of you could hardly stand to sit still in the hospital wing for half an hour, let alone get me through a transformation!” As Remus told his story, Tonks looked at him with a funny look, and with an alarming pang, I realized Y/N often shot me the very same look. Did that mean she felt for me as Tonks felt for Remus? 

“That is bang out of order, mate! I worked hard at becoming an Animagi! Took years, it did. Don’t remember seeing Madam Pomfrey out trotting about with a teenage werewolf. Besides, kept your arse out of trouble!” I bantered back, smiling jovially. 

“Oh, it just as easily could’ve gotten me in trouble,” Remus shook his head at the memories.

“But it didn’t, did it?” I teased, “You know you loved it just as much as we did, Moony. Try as you might to remain all high and mighty. Ickle Prefect Moony,” I jeered, poking at him as he laughed. 

“Alright, alright. C’mon, let’s go before the two of you really start down memory lane. We’ve got to meet Dumbledore.” Tonks said, gently steering Remus towards the door. 

“Hang on, you’re going to Hogwarts?” I asked. I couldn’t help but be jealous. 

“Briefly. That wretch woman gets nosy when we’re there for more than a quick pop in.” Remus said; the disgusted look on his face told me he meant Umbridge. 

“Ah, well, say hello to Harry for me if you see him. I hear the little scamp likes roaming round nearly as much as we did.” I smiled after them. 

“That he does; I still remember catching him with that map...I don’t even know how he got ahold of it. James would’ve been so proud, out in the dark corridors taunting Snape. Like father, like son.” Remus smiled fondly at the memory before hanging his head slightly and ambling off to join Tonks. My chest hurt at the mention of James and Harry, and I was once more painfully reminded of my solitude. What I wouldn’t give to see James again...

I followed them to the door, waving goodbye as the two of them popped out of sight. I stared longingly at the spot where they’d disapparted. 

Standing in place, I gave myself a moment to gather my thoughts before returning to the kitchen. 

Tonks had made many good points, but were they just good because I was looking for any kind of reason to be with her? Did they actually make sense, or was I just looking for an out?

Remus had only made us promise once in the wee hours of the morning in the Gryffindor common room. Besides, if family was off-limits, well, that made him a right hypocrite, didn’t it? He did leave her here with me though, with the promise I’d take good care of her. That meant, to some degree, Remus trusted me with her. Would I be breaking that trust by going with my gut with Y/N? 

Good and evil continued to argue on my shoulders, but if I waited for a decision, I might be here for years. 

What’s more, was she even interested in me? I mean, sure, I’d caught her staring in school--but that was years ago; a lot had changed since then. But then there was the blush that always colored her cheeks every time I said something cheeky, the relief on her face when I’d met her in the port key room. Surely she wouldn’t let someone she detested bathe her, right? 

I resolved to simply flirt. If that went well, then she felt something too. And if she felt something too...well, let me not get ahead of myself. 

*******************************

Taglist: @geeksareunique @fredweasleysbitchh  @green-intervention​ @stopbeingcurious

#Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter Smut #Hermione Granger #Ron Weasley #Granger #Ginny Weasley #Fred and Goerge Weasley #weasley twins #weasley #tonks #remus x tonks #remus lupin x tonks #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #sirius black fanfiction #sirius #black #post azkaban sirius #sirius x reader #Draco Malfoy #Draco #daddy draco #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #Crabbe and Goyle #vincent crabbe #Gregory Goyle

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

3. About Bilbo from the POV of...Balin

Man! It’s been a bit of a busy Sunday! So for the option of “best friend” I realized many people headcannon it to be Ori or Bofur (and I love that!), but I have always loved the idea that Bilbo considers Balin to be his best friend. Mostly because I have really good friends outside my age range. 😊 

Reminder: You can make requests on the POVs I have left, and the masterlist can be found here.

***

Balin really didn’t know what to make of the hobbit upon their first meeting. He was certainly a polite fellow offering up his apologies so easily and very excitable. Beyond that, Balin never really expected much from their Burglar. Certainly never expected him to stand between Thorin and Azog, was thoroughly surprised by being freed by him in Mirkwood, and rather humbled by his bravery before a dragon. So he really should have learned his lesson by that point in counting out the intelligent and bold little creature. However, Bilbo, the newly crowned Consort, had an entirely new challenge for Balin to see him through: dwarven politics.

“Now don’t let Hulgar push you around. He talks loud and harsh, but be firm with him and he’ll back right down. And Ragram is like clay. He acts soft, but he packs a hard punch.”

Bilbo clapped Balin’s shoulder with a cheerful grin. “Not to worry. I’m sure it’ll rather be like taking tea with my relatives. I’ve dealt with brown nosers, and I’ve dealt with dwarves, and I’ve dealt with royal dwarves. I think a meeting in the Iron Hills is within my repertoire.”

Balin gave him a wry smirk. “Let us hope, Your Highness.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes right before they rounded the corner for the Great Hall. Bilbo’s face immediately settled into a disarmingly polite grin as he waited for them to be announced. 

“I bet you a pint that one of them slips up and calls me Halfling.” Bilbo leaned in to whisper.

Balin frowned. “We as a race are brash, but no one would be that disrespectful.”

Bilbo merely gave him a deprecating smile. “Double if they call me Burglar.”

“Fine. You’re on.” Balin finally smirked.

“Presenting, His Royal Highness, Bilbo Baggins son of Bungo, known Dragontongue, Consort of Erebor. And his Royal Advisor, Balin, son of Fundin.”

There were six dwarrows in total including Dain who was merely there to start the negotiations before stepping out. Balin expected they would be catching up with the king later, but his presence was not needed at a trade meeting that he already approved. The dwarrows bowed before Bilbo as the hobbit returned the sentiment to Dain before taking his seat which signaled the rest to follow. Dain gave a short introduction before adjoining. However, just before he left, he waved Balin over.

“I don’t want to step on the little blighter’s overly large toes by staying, but I don’t know if he stands much of a chance against this lot.”

Balin smirked. “If there’s one thing you should know about Bilbo Baggins, it’s that he is always full of surprises.”

“I’ve heard the stories.” Dain sniffed. “And I know my cousin thinks the world of his One, I just don’t know…”

“AND WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING HALFLING?!”

Dain and Balin spun around to see Bilbo had gotten up and left the table signaling for a servant.

“I’m ordering a pot of tea because it’s what one does to hide their contempt when dealing with rude company.”

“You dare insult us…” Gremmus swore under his breath.

“I do. But only because you’ve chosen to begin this rather amicable trade agreement with insults to myself.” Bilbo answered coolly.

“Master Burglar…” Ragram tried to appease.

“Consort.” Bilbo corrected quickly, his voice steel. “You see Master Ragram, like you, I had a former profession and then was promoted to Consort. I wouldn’t dare insult you by calling you Master Miner. So let’s speak frankly. We have gold, and you have iron. All we need to settle is routes and amount. If you try to negotiate for more, I walk. If you wish to continue insulting me, I walk. Erebor can easily go to others for material, but we have the largest gold mine outside of Khazad Dum. If you would like to try your luck with the balrog, you have my support wholeheartedly for I may not have experienced the flames of Durin’s Bane, but I have stood toe to toe with a dragon.”

The room was bathed in silence as Bilbo’s audience ranged from disbelief to shame. Bilbo’s tea arrived, and the hobbit thanked the servant heartily as he took a sip staring down the trade council.

“Now then, my dear gentledwarves, shall we continue?”

“I want one.” Dain balked with a large grin.

“Well good luck to you. I don’t believe Thorin is inclined to sharing his.” Balin laughed. “You can carry on your duties easy knowing Master Baggins has this well under control.”

“Remind me to invite Erebor to more negotiations! I think he could tame the Seven Lords if given the chance!”

Balin shook his head at his energetic kin promising to catch up with him later before returning to his place beside his Consort.

“Do you require my aid, my liege?” Balin whispered as the council calmly began to present their side.

“I believe I’ve got everything under control here. I wish sometimes I could talk to Lobelia in so plain of words without causing a scandal.”

“What’s one more?” Balin teased him.

Bilbo smirked behind his cup as he gave him a wink.

“Also I believe you owe me a trip to the tavern tonight.” The hobbit added.

Balin heaved a sigh. “Still paying for a couple of drinks is much easier than paying for damages.”

Bilbo raised a curious eyebrow.

“Last time I traveled with Thorin, he took an axe to the meeting table.”

Bilbo hid his exasperated laugh well, and Balin smiled. Even as some of the other dwarrows picked up on their hushed conversation, none dared to speak up against the Consort again. Balin would very strongly state that Bilbo was his favorite royal to work with.

#follower event #all about bilbo #bilbo baggins #balin

[janiedean]

Do you think Jonsa is going to happen? I did read some meta about foreshadowing and it's a "squint if you miss it" but there is stuff. For example. Jonnel/Sansa stark in the family tree. People say the fact that Jon didn't care about Sansa being wed to Tyrion, compared to Arya being wed to Ramsay means he his repressing his painful memories and how he has a secret crush on her.

... tldr and sorry for the harshness: no, but if you want to go into the details, with no offense to anyone shipping it of course:

as I already recently ranted, jon and sansa are in two totally different brackets - jon is a main five, sansa is in the following bracket, jon has the entire chosen one storyline plus being the center of the entire story going on, sansa has the I want the love story and I'll get it plotline which does not mesh with jon's so there's that;

sansa's story arc is admittedly painfully clear in the beginning as in: if she thinks she's going to marry a beautiful gallant pretty prince and she thinks it's joffrey who is like attractive and LOOKS gallant but we all know how it went, then she's going to end up with someone who is the total opposite, also if she wanted to be queen in the beginning then it means she's absolutely not going to be in the end bc her entire arc is about realizing that everything she wanted in the beginning is not what she truly wants, and since jon is absolutely poised to get kingship, divide the kingdoms and fuck off to the wildlings after there is no way that her storyline meshes with his like that;

sansa's only viable love interests at this point on page are sandor and tyrion, the end, which by the way are, guess what, not standard attractive and are two people who need to overcome their trauma but never treated her unfairly, and like... denying that in the text sansa is attracted to sandor (she MAKES UP that he kissed her, she dreams he comes to her on her wedding night, she's all like AH BUT JUST *I* KISSED THE HOUND etc like sorry but that's a thing never mind all the knightly investment subtext) and that sandor is her love interest on text is imvho absolutely senseless - you can ship whatever you want and realize that canon isn't going there and write fanfic, no one is gonna stop you, and I can accept the endgame theory from sansa/tyrion shippers even if I think sansa/sandor is it, but sansa/anyone else is absolutely out of the question;

also sandor is the only one sansa thinks about using all the criteria ned used to describe the knight he would find her which was better than joffrey bless whoever went and did the search (brave gentle and strong) and she doesn't use neither of those terms to think about jon, like there's more evidence for littlefinger based on that and idt lf is gonna be her intended;

they think they're siblings and like I know that saying 'BUT THE INCEST' in these books is not like an automatic NO because there's canon incest and the rival ship ie j*nerys also would be incest but like one thing is jc which is not endgame and plainly described as abusive/unhealthy, one thing is targ incests which like the narrative generally is like HEY THIS WAS NOT A GOOD IDEA ABOUT and one thing is falling in love with someone you thought was your sibling and you grew up with like that the moment you find out you're cousins - that... doesn't work like that. and like while I don't have a horse in this race and j*nerys is hardly my ideal endgame sorry but it's a lot more likely that jon would end up getting with someone who he never met before, was the sister of a father he never knew and doesn't even consider his father and he had no relation with before than with... someone he actually thought was his sister, even if he finds out she's his cousin that doesn't change it;

'repressing painful memories' jon has zero issue thinking about catelyn or sansa not treating him great so idk what he should be repressing;

arya vs sansa question: .... well that's like getting close to the entire point but not getting it, in the sense that while jon didn't take wf because it belonged to sansa - but he said he would have if ygritte had been alive and stannis said he could marry her and not val which I mean... says all honestly - technically he made vows saying he renounced his family which is the entire fucking point re arya - the point is that he didn't give those vows up for robb but he would for arya which was the one he was closest to which is what makes everyone else kill him and no he wouldn't have done that for sansa because she was the only one who kept him at a distance, but...

the entire damned point is that they have to reconnect as siblings. sansa going back north (which is gonna happen) and jon being there and most likely getting legitimized/getting robb's will etc means that they have, as adults (or at least... well not kids) realize that how she treated him was wrong and that they can build a relationship which means that each single text reference to each other which is really nothing romantic™ is posed to tell you THESE TWO WILL BE THE STARK SIBLINGS MEETING FIRST and since they didn't have a close rship before they will forge one now, but that doesn't mean that they're going to be romantic endgame, because jon's point isn't having the uber romantic storyline and sweeping a maiden off her feet and sansa already has at least one love interest posed to do exactly that and while their sl are absolutely meant to intersecate on a sibling finding each other again level they are off when it comes to romance;

also a j*nsa endgame would... imply that she becomes queen of the seven kingdoms and they stay reigning there when sansa is absolutely posed to stay in the north and do her own thing and jon is posed to destroy the united-westeros-because-a-targ-did-it legacy (which like... great bookend bc first legit targ king unites it, bastard stark-targaryen king who most likely is keeping the bastard name undoes it) and he is going to hate each second of it, so it doesn't add up with sansa getting her happy love song fairytale romance... which again she can get from other people that the text strongly pointed at already.

so: no because it makes no sense thematically for either of them and for that matter I don't even think jon*erys is eventual endgame tho I guess it has to happen at this point given the show mess idk but if either of them had to be j*nerys would make a load more sense and I still think that a targ restoration with two monarchs keeping on being monarchs is not what a dude who is obviously anti-monarchy has in mind for the endgame. like no offense to anyone into it ofc but again it has zero textual basis for being romantic endgame and it wouldn't even make either of them happy bc jon is not sansa's gentle brave strong knight and sansa isn't the kind of woman jon is actually into (ygritte reminded him of arya I mean) and idt he'd get romantic feelings for his sister who he's going to think of in that terms anyway so there's my two cents. and I understand that it's not smth that a lot of people would agree with but take it up with grrm because he's the one putting that in the text and not me X°D

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #janie writes meta #anti-jonsa #anti jonsa #sansan for ts #sanrion for ts #asoiaf wank #guys please tag this anti-j. if you reblog bc i have zero interest in arguing about it #everyone can be into whatever they like ofc but idt this one makes textual sense #also half of the meta i see around is show truthing and honestly no #also i mean the only realistic dynamic for j*nsa that i can think of #is not a dynamic this fandom is ready to discuss or talk about #and nothing grrm would go for in the books anyway #sssooo #/shrug

[starlight-loki]

heyyy :)) is it alright if you make an hc for Loki and reader? where reader can change reality like wanda cause she's depressed and she lost her family and the avengers are trying to help her? (I'm crying, I just finished wandavision ;( )

aw mAN MY HEART😭💗

also just a warning/PSA for this one: this deals with heavy feelings of grief/loss (specifically of family members) as well as some others concerned over mental health that accompanies the grieving process? just wanted to give a warning just in case. On a slightly, teeny-tiny, lighter note, Loki is alive in this one. (We don’t accept his IW death as canon in this house ❤️)

this is a sad one, i’m sorry! but i’ve got a fluffier one coming soon, I promise ❤️

The Snap took out your entire family

Like... you weren’t even sure how it was possible that the odds were that much against you

You had hoped with all your life that with the survival rate of The Snap being 1 in 2, you would’ve been spared even one family member: a cousin, an extended great aunt, anything

but they were all gone

it didn’t hit you right away at first -- especially with other members of the team disappearing as well, you felt that there were others who were suffering more than you

they needed to be helped first

but once the initial shock of half the population disappearing wore off and the other Avengers inevitably had to keep moving forward, that’s when the weight of your loss began to hit you

you’d often hide in your room when things got too difficult, only allowing yourself to fall apart when you knew no one else was awake

it also didn’t help that the Compound was twice as silent as it usually was, due to some of your closest friends also disappearing

no one was taking it well, really, but it was harder for you than anyone because of your powers

it was tempting to shift reality to bring everyone back, even just for a moment, but you knew it would only cause you more problems in the long run.

especially with you still being in the first stage of your grief, you knew that if you brought your family and your fellow Avengers back in some way, you’d never want to leave

the dream you had a few nights later didn’t help matters either: you were back in your grandparents’ home as a young child, running around their house as old music from the 60s played softly in the background

you woke with the memory of a warm summer’s eve fading away from you like a worn blanket, and tears began to stream down your face

you’d give anything to have that memory back in the physical world, even if it meant never leaving your room again

you decided right then and there that you were going to turn your room in the Compound into your own safe haven

it would look like your grandparent’s house in your dream, and everyone you loved -- friends and family alike -- would be there.

the entire Compound trembled as you altered reality in your room, and while you were resurrecting everyone in your own way, somewhere across the hall Loki shot up out of bed

he felt your magic alter the very strings of reality

he had given you space to grieve by yourself, but now he was getting worried

you often spoke about this between the two of you -- using magic to alter fate for your own benefit -- and it was something the two of you swore never to do

magic always had a price, no matter how tempting it seemed.

It scared Loki to think of what you might have done

back in your room, there were tears of happiness running down your cheeks now as you took in your surroundings

you were back home with everyone you loved. they were safe. you were safe. no more bad feelings. 

the air smelled like freshly baked cookies and the orange glow of the sunset warmed the walls of your grandparent’s house, and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you caught sightings of Bucky, Wanda, and Peter roaming the house

This was home. 

To your surprise, however, you heard a loud and obnoxious knock on your front door

Everything was soft and gentle here -- something was definitely wrong

you opened the door to find Loki frowning worriedly at you

“Loki! You’re just in time, my grandma made cookies for everyone-”

“Y/N... what... did you do...?”

His eyes searched your face, and you couldn’t help but notice your heart skip a beat as an anxious shadow crossed his features

no. you weren’t going to be reminded today.

“Would you like to come in?” You wished there was a way to alter your body’s chemistry, you hated the way your hands trembled and your throat tightened.

“No, but I would like you to come out. With me. I can make you tea the way you like it.”

The thought of outside nearly made you slam the door instinctively. You had everything you needed right here. You had tea here, you didn’t need to go outside. 

“No.”

“Please.” 

It wasn’t a question, it was a command, spoken quieter than a whisper, but you could feel the urgency in Loki’s tone nonetheless.

all you could manage was a shake of your head before you shut the door

that night, you and your loved ones gathered around the crackling fire in your grandparents’ living room, but even with everyone sitting around you laughing and telling stories, you couldn’t quite quell the dread in your stomach

the little voice in the back of your mind telling you this was all wrong just wouldn’t seem to go away

your mind kept drifting back towards Loki, and you hated that there was still a part of you that longed to go back to him, to just be held in his arms as you cried

you nearly jumped out of your skin that night when Loki came into the house once more, silently climbing the steps to your childhood bedroom 

“Y/N...”

“I’m not going back. I can’t.”

“You have to. None of this is real and you know it.”

You pulled the covers tighter around you and try to use your powers to block Loki out of your reality, but he’d put up a shield so powerful around him that he didn't move an inch.

“You know better than anyone that magic has a price, Y/N!” 

Tears formed in your eyes because you knew he was right. you knew this wasn't real and these weren't your friends, these weren't your family.

your family was gone.

Loki approaches you slowly and pulls you into a gentle embrace, and you finally allow your created reality to fade away as you sob into his shoulder

it hits you for the first time in days just how nice it feels to be held by someone, especially Loki who understands what it feels like to lose someone better than most 

he whispers soft words to you, reassuring you over and over that he’s here, you’re safe, it’s okay to cry

there’s a point somewhere in the night where Loki cries with you, because he empathizes so strongly with you and with your grief -- there’s a part of him that never fully processed his mother’s death, and being with you allows him to do that

the two of you sort of become each other’s lifeline at this point, always keeping some sort of physical contact, whether its a desperate embrace or even just your shoulders touching gently

you need him more than ever now, and Loki also realizes the longer he stays with you that he needs you just as much. 

#loki x reader #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x reader hc #headcanon of the day #loki x reader headcanon #infinity war #loki hc #loki headcanon #loki laufeyson #loki x reader imagine #ask #request #mcu loki

[ibijau]

Jin Rusong Lives pt12 / On AO3

Nie Huaisang discovers that it's not easy to kiss a pretty man when you have a job to do

When he was very young, a year or so after the death of their father, Nie Huaisang had wondered about his brother being single. Since he’d personally been something of a brat, and none too impressed with the changes that circumstances had forced upon his brother, he had come to the conclusion that Nie Mingjue just wasn’t nice enough for anyone to like him that way. 

Nie Huaisang, moved by pity, had promised his brother that he would stay with him all his life, but only if Nie Mingjue never made him attend sabre practice again. His noble sacrifice had been met with indifference, and Nie Mingjue had just sent him to train anyway, proving that he definitely was the hardest, coldest, least lovable person in the world, and deserved to be single.

Some years later, Nie Huaisang had once more wondered why his brother was yet unmarried. At that time, he had been mostly concerned by the fact that made him heir to Qinghe Nie’s leadership, a most horrible realisation to have when he only wished to enjoy his time in Gusu, kiss pretty people, and never learn a single thing in his life. 

He had at that time befriended Jiang Cheng, whose views on love and marriage were entirely unlike what Nie Huaisang felt himself. And then, there had also been that list of popular young bachelors. The second proved that Nie Mingjue was desirable, while the first offered the consideration that not everyone longed for a partner. Nie Huaisang had tried to accept his brother the way he accepted his friend, though it annoyed him that he'd have to be the one producing an heir. He’d already started taking notice of Lan Xichen around then, and no girl in the world could have been even half as beautiful.

Later still, after the Sunshot Campaign, Nie Huaisang once again reconsidered his opinion regarding Nie Mingjue’s situation. His brother wasn't quite as cold as he pretended, and it happened sometimes that he would let his gaze linger on a pretty girl, though never long enough to be noticed. Some of those girls would have made fine mistresses for the Unclean Realm, and could have given Nie Mingjue the heir which would ensure Nie Huaisang would never have to be sect leader. 

But as Nie Mingjue's temper deteriorated in the years leading to his death, after witnessing the violence with which he lost his life, the same violence their father had shown in his last moments, Nie Huaisang formed a new theory; if Nie Mingjue had never married, it was because he was scared of hurting others. 

For a decade, Nie Huaisang satisfied himself with that theory. It went well with the image he had of his brother, noble and self sacrificing. It also helped rekindle his hatred of Jin Guangyao by reminding him that it was his actions that had robbed Nie Mingjue of the loving family he deserved. But the truth, Nie Huaisang was now realising, might have been more simple than that.

It was just so damn complicated to have a sentimental life as a sect leader, and even more so while raising a child. 

Little Jin Rusong, bless him, was the sweetest child in the world, polite, obedient, affectionate. Considering how difficult his presence made things, Nie Huaisang felt immense sympathy for his late brother, who'd had to deal with a hellspawn like himself. Nie Mingjue might have thought that his little brother would embarrass him or throw a fit out of jealousy if he tried to flirt with anyone… and Nie Huaisang couldn't deny he would have taken great joy in doing just that. 

At least, Jin Rusong meant no harm when he'd cried out just as Nie Huaisang, after a decade of hopelessness, was about to be kissed again by the man he loved. With the rough evening he'd had, the little boy also couldn't be blamed for being worried about falling asleep alone, so that had ended any chance for Nie Huaisang to have more time with Lan Xichen right then. 

In the morning, Nie Huaisang had the pleasant surprise of seeing Lan Xichen enter the room at the same time as the servant who brought breakfast. Although they usually dined together these days, to spend breakfast together was entirely new. 

"I have been awake for a while," Lan Xichen explained before Nie Huaisang could ask a single question. "Even here I usually follow our rules and…" 

He trailed off, a touch of red blooming on his cheeks as he stared a moment at Nie Huaisang, before promptly averting his eyes. Perhaps he remembered that he’d boldly offered to break some of those rules only the night before. Nie Huaisang certainly hadn’t forgotten.

"I was awake and thought I'd come see you," Lan Xichen quickly finished. "I hope you don't mind?" 

"I'm always happy to have you in my room," Nie Huaisang retorted, delighted to see the other man's blush deepen. He'd missed flirting. It had been a long while since he'd done that, and he felt rusty, but he was sure Lan Xichen would be forgiving. 

The three of them sat down for breakfast. Nie Huaisang, quite innocently, tried to sit next to Lan Xichen rather than Jin Rusong, but the child protested against that, saying he wanted to be sitting close to Lan Xichen. He then proceeded to also monopolise the conversation, clearly delighted to have both of his uncles at his disposal. Both men still attempted to flirt a little, but eventually had to give up and settle for exchanging fond looks over the table.

When breakfast was over, Nie Huaisang helped Jin Rusong get dressed and ready for his day while Lan Xichen watched. They all three went to the classroom, and as they walked Lan Xichen stood a little too close, causing his hand to brush against Nie Huaisang every so often. At least, he did so until Jin Rusong grabbed both their hands, seeming in an excellent mood that morning and determined to enjoy both his uncles at once.

When Jin Rusong had been handed to his teacher, there was a brief moment of awkwardness. Nie Huaisang stood silent near the classroom door, suddenly as nervous as a teenager with a crush. His only comfort was to see Lan Xichen equally anxious.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Lan Xichen suggested. “We could…” he hesitated, pink dusting his face, and finished miserably: “we could walk.”

“I’d love to walk,” Nie Huaisang replied with too much eagerness.

Lan Xichen smiled, looking more shy and uncertain than he’d done the previous night. Nie Huaisang also found it harder to think about renewing their old connection, now that it was light around them. Without darkness to soften the world around them, he could remember every reason he’d given ten years earlier to argue against their little romance, every fear of a political disaster, of blackmail if they were discovered, of losing the last true friend he had. And yet even like that, Nie Huaisang knew he could not resist his feelings, not this time.

He was tired of denying himself the things he wanted, he thought as he reached out to take Lan Xichen’s hand.

And that was when Nie Funyu found them, and scolded Nie Huaisang for forgetting that he’d agreed to see a local magistrate that morning about a series of mysterious disappearances in a nearby town. The magistrate in question had been waiting for a while already, and was quite unhappy about it. Nie Huaisang had no choice but to follow his first disciple, and could not even offer Lan Xichen a chance for a lunch together, as it had already been agreed he would eat with that magistrate.

“Duty comes first,” Lan Xichen said with a thin smile that lacked its usual warmth.

It was a comfort, Nie Huaisang supposed, to know that he wasn’t the only one irritated by this unexpected interruption.

The meeting with that magistrate went well. Once the situation was explained, Nie Huaisang offered different ways to deal with it, so that some important people who appeared involved would not be offended if they were innocent, nor allowed a chance to escape he’d they’d done something nefarious. The magistrate appeared satisfied by the solution offered, as well as by the meal. Sadly, the man was of a curious nature, and hinted very strongly that he would like to be given a tour of the Unclean Realm, admitting he was fascinated with cultivation, though lacking any talent himself. 

Nie Huaisang had no choice but to show him around. This, in turn, meant that the amount of work he would normally have done during the afternoon piled up. Even when the magistrate had left, Nie Huaisang found himself busy with correspondence, before having to give some lessons to the juniors, as Nie Funyu occasionally insisted he did, “so the little ones know who you are, zongzhu”.

Then some other business came up, so that by the time Nie Huaisang was finally free to join Lan Xichen and Jin Rusong for dinner, they were almost done eating and he was exhausted. Even if he’d still had the energy to think of flirting, Jin Rusong happened to be in a chatty and joyful mood, demanding to play, and Nie Huaisang had to oblige until both of them were too sleepy to go on. Lan Xichen was very graceful about it, and offered to keep Jin Rusong for the night so that Nie Huaisang had a chance to sleep more deeply.

The offer was immediately taken, and Nie Huaisang stumbled back to his room where he dropped on his bed half dressed, too tired to bother with clothes.

The following day showed promises of more contradictions to Nie Huaisang’s plans. While he would have wanted to finally continue his conversation with Lan Xichen, as soon as he was done with his breakfast, some juniors came to find him to complain about a problem they were having. Someone’s cousin had said something about someone else’s fiancée, who happened to be close friends with the young master of a small sect who now threatened everyone with a duel. 

It was only a small dispute, but Nie Huaisang had seen what happened to arguments allowed to fester, so he gave the situation his full attention and wrote right away to some of the people concerned in an attempt to make everyone calm down. But then, since he had gone to his office to write those letters, Nie Funyu found him there and took the chance to make him review some bills that he thought were not quite right.

It was nearly noon when Lan Xichen knocked on the door of Nie Huaisang’s office. He appeared slightly disappointed to find that Nie Huaisang was not alone, which Nie Huaisang thought funny. Nie Funyu did not share his amusement, and his mood turned sour when Lan Xichen asked if he might keep them company. Nie Huaisang promptly agreed, which annoyed his first disciple. It would take a while until Nie Funyu no longer resented Lan Xichen for his former friendship with Jin Guangyao, but he would have to get over it. Nie Huaisang intended to keep Lan Xichen in his life.

He just wished they could have half a shichen to themselves to decide how to make that work.

An impossible wish, it seemed.

Still, at long last, lunch time came to free Nie Huaisang from his work. Not only that, but he knew that Nie Funyu was teaching all afternoon, meaning it would be that much easier to avoid work for a little while. 

Lunch was unmemorable. Some elders insisted that Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen eat with them, complaining that their sect leader had neglected them lately. It was not entirely untrue, but Nie Huaisang wished he could have neglected those elders today too. It wasn't even possible to chat with Lan Xichen in such company, though since they were sitting next to each other, their hands accidentally touched frequently. 

After they were done eating, Nie Huaisang promptly asked Lan Xichen if he would mind checking something with him in his quarter. Just as quickly, Lan Xichen agreed, and they both walked there a little more quickly than was dignified for two sect leaders, worried about more interruptions. 

There were none. Nobody stopped them on their way to Nie Huaisang’s quarters, and they were allowed to finally be alone together again. Nie Huaisang felt like a mischievous teenager trying to escape parental supervision to get naughty with their crush. He found that he quite enjoyed that. He hadn’t felt this young in years.

"I'm glad you're taking your duties more seriously, but surely your sect can function without you sometimes," Lan Xichen said as they closed the door behind them.

His voice warried with such petulance that Nie Huaisang almost laughed. 

"Xichen, were you getting impatient maybe?" came the teasing answer. 

A slight frown appeared on Lan Xichen's face, before he stepped closer and took Nie Huaisang’s hand. 

"Yes, I was." 

He said it so simply, as if it were evident. Perhaps it was, after having waited so many years for this. Nie Huaisang was hardly any better. Patience had been his main quality for a while, but now he was tired of waiting.

"Well, we're here now," he said, breathless. "I'm all yours, Lan Huan." 

Lan Xichen shivered at the use of that name, a first between them, and squeezed Nie Huaisang’s hand, with a tender smile on his lips. 

That smile disappeared when there was a knock on the door and Lan Xichen glared at it. Nie Huaisang felt just as disappointed, but was starting to find some humour in the situation. He almost laughed as he freed his hand from Lan Xichen's. 

Nie Mingjue was well avenged for every bit of trouble his brother had caused him. 

“Come in,” Nie Huaisang ordered. “Oh. Jin Yixin, is there a problem?”

Jin Yixin came into the room and bowed with cold elegance, while at her side Jin Rusong tried to copy her posture. He looked very serious, the way he always did around Jin Yixin, clearly trying to impress his teacher and prove that he was a worthy student.

“I come to Nie zongzhu to make a request,” she said. “Some of the concepts I’m trying to explain to the young master would profit from outdoor demonstrations. I was hoping you would allow me to take him outside of the Unclean Realm? I’ve tried using the gardens to make my point, but they are too touched by human minds and it does not work.”

The request made Nie Huaisang frown. 

It was nothing particularly strange, Nie teachers also took the younger juniors past the walls of the Unclean Realm sometimes, just for a shichen, to show something about… energies? It might have to do with energies. Nie Huaisang hadn’t paid attention as a child, and he still struggled with some of those concepts as an adult. What he understood, though, was that those concepts were important to cultivate in a solid, healthy manner, and he didn’t want to deprive Jin Rusong of a chance to learn well.

“Where would you go? And when?”

“There is a little field behind the Unclean Realm that’s uncultivated, and well within your borders,” Jin Yixin explained. “I was thinking of going there. Perhaps this afternoon? Of course it can wait if you’d rather check the place yourself first.”

“No, I think I see what you mean,” Nie Huaisang replied. “I used to go there sometimes to admire the view of the mountains, and to watch the birds that live around. I suppose there’s no harm…”

He hesitated. The idea of letting Jin Rusong leave the Unclean Realm, however briefly, however well accompanied, was deeply unpleasant. At the same time, a little field trip like that was likely to tire out the child, and if he could be convinced to go to sleep early…

They wouldn’t be going very far, he thought, and Jin Yixin came with the approval of both Jin Rulan and Jiang Wanyin. Nie Funyu, who had seen her train and even got to spar with her once, also vouched for her being a very strong cultivator. She’d taken part in the Sunshot Campaign even. Clearly she was someone who could be trusted with Jin Rusong’s safety.

“Take some of my disciples with you,” Nie Huaisang ordered. “And take some distress signals too. I don’t think Qinghe Nie’s reputation has fallen so low that anyone would dare to cause trouble so close to the Unclean Realm, but let’s take every precaution. SongSong, you will be very good and listen to your teacher, won’t you?”

The little boy enthusiastically promised, and was still grinning when Jin Yixin and him left the room to go find some people who might accompany them.

As soon as the door closed, Lan Xichen pressed Nie Huaisang against the nearest wall and kissed him, unwilling to risk any further delay. After a brief moment of surprise, Nie Huaisang wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist and pulled him closer, melting into the kiss.

It felt nothing like that miserable kiss they’d exchanged on the day of Nie Mingjue’s funeral. Back then it had felt like a farewell between them, while now Nie Huaisang could hope there would be more of this in the future. Lan Xichen’s passion in kissing him, the way their bodies were pressed together, certainly promised more.

They kissed against the wall for a while, impatiently clinging to each other. Then Lan Xichen, always so clever, suggested that there was a sofa right there, which might be more comfortable than to remain standing. Nie Huaisang felt tempted to point out that if comfort was an issue, his bed wasn’t very far either, and it would be even more comfortable. But the sofa was closer, and there was no urgency. They had found each other again at last, and had the rest of their lives to explore all they could want from that.

Although they’d started sitting on the sofa, before too long they were lying on it, Nie Huaisang straddling Lan Xichen, kissing him more slowly now as they allowed their hands to wander, enjoying accidental brushes of skin on skin, but making no effort to discard their layers of clothing. There was no rush, not now that they had each other, and Nie Huaisang thought he could have happily spent the rest of his life like this, nestled on a sofa with the man he loved, lazily kissing him.

Time passed around them without their notice, until a knock on the door forced them to return again to the world around them.

Nie Huaisang’s first thought was that he had to be cursed to never enjoy a single moment of peace. Then, noticing how the shadows had grown longer, he realised with some embarrassment that they’d been together like that for a long while, and it wasn’t so surprising that someone should be needing him for something or other. He tried to get up, only for Lan Xichen to hold him by the hips, keeping him in place. Nie Huaisang almost laughed, and seeing how handsome Lan Xichen was like this, flushed and with his lips so red, he couldn’t resist leaning for one more kiss.

Another knock on the door, insistent enough to make it shake, put an end to that. Nie Huaisang, surprised by such urgency, stood up. Lan Xichen did not stop him again, looking puzzled as well, and followed him when he went to open the door, both of them trying to put order to their appearance. 

One of his disciples was on the other side, looking distraught and breathless from running. 

“Nie zongzhu, there’s a problem,” he explained, speaking so fast it made him hard to understand. “The men who went with Jin Yixin and Jin xiao-gongzi have returned. They’ve been beaten up, they say they were ambushed and attacked.”

“What?” Nie Huaisang gasped, so shocked he had to support himself against the doorframe. “How…" A thought crossed his mind, and he grabbed the man's collar. "Where's Rusong?”

The man shook his head.

“Zonghzhu, he’s been taken.”

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #jin rusong #jin rusong lives #has it been nearly 9 months since I updated this fic? maybe. Who are you?? the fanfic police??? #I'm procrastinating so hard on the time travel fic lol #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes

[wellpresseddaisy]

Letters from Petunia (Part 2)

Dumbledore -

Arrived at safe house. Aunt and cousin secured. Uncle secured at sister's with guard. Being a real bastard about it too, he is.

M

Aunt Petunia,

Thank you. No one has ever told me so much about mum. I hope you and Dudley are settled in. I don't know much about the property, but everyone said it was comfortable and secure. I'm sorry you had to move. I'll try to write more later - it's a good thing I know how to clean where I am. I can't say anything else about it, but we're kept on the hop.

Is the Snape you mentioned Severus Snape? If that was his name, he's my Potions professor and he hates me.

Harry

_______________________

Mr. Snape,

I have heard from my nephew that you are one of his Professors. I would remind you, should you feel the need to be an utter bastard, that I have more where this came from, Dark Lord Regretto.

Petunia Dursley

P.S. We both know James Potter was the largest arsehole ever to walk the wizarding world. His son is not. I can't say much more, but Harry has been the opposite of spoiled in my home. I am working to rectify this and to treat him normally. I would ask that you do the same. You may wish to have yourself checked for spellwork.

Severus stared down at the photograph Petunia had enclosed in the short letter. It was the three of them - Lily tied to a drainpipe in the Evans' back garden; Petunia wearing a length of old curtain as a cape, brandishing a stick as the Light Lady Armbreaker (no matter how many times he and Lily complained, she refused to change it as she was an Armbreaker for Justice); and his younger self as the Dark Lord Regretto, wearing the other curtain and one of Mrs. Evans' old brassieres as a helmet.

The photograph went quickly into his robes. It could not get out. For one, he had a reputation to keep up and the Dark Lord Regretto had no part in it. For another, Minerva would make the most appalling jokes for the rest of his natural life. Which, if the Dark Lord got wind of his true allegiance, would be quite short.

He would have to discuss this new wrinkle with the Headmaster.

_________________________

Harry -

I've had a great deal of time to think, lately, and after my first letter to you it was suggested that you might not mind more. Your reply confirmed that. I didn't realize no one had told you of your mother. She had quite a large circle of friends who ought to have found you by now. They've only had years.

Unless you've decided to follow Lord What's His Name and level threats against us or have the power to send Dementors after people, you are not at fault. The only fault belongs to his followers and they should, honestly, be ashamed.

Dudley and I are settling in as well as we can. The cottage is very comfortably appointed. We both appreciate that you would allow us the use of a Potter property. Dudley has taken up jogging the perimeter and swimming in the ocean. Life with limited electronics may be very good for him.

I expect that you will also stay put where you're safe. I received notice of your upcoming hearing and Dudley and I will be attending. We're technically Squibs, which neither of us knew until recently. I will be pleased to let the Wizarding court system know precisely how I feel about them targeting my nephew, who performed underage magic in front of those who already knew about it. This is clearly shaping up to be a farce if the disgusting rag of a newspaper is anything to go on.

Wizards will bang on about the superiority of the Wizarding World when they don't even have ethical standards for journalists! I've half a mind to write a strongly worded letter to the editor or engage a solicitor. I certainly haven't given my approval for them to print anything they like about you.

I haven't been a good guardian to you, Harry, but that will change. I will not allow your name and reputation to be dragged through the muck. Not after I heard about what you've done at school to keep others safe. (We will be discussing your tendency to jump into trouble the way you do. Or you will discuss it with someone. I won't have you endangering yourself every other Thursday. It makes adequate study time difficult.)

One more thing - we have discovered that we were under some kind of spell. It is difficult for me to understand, but I believe it was put on our home in good faith. Unfortunately, the original intention twisted and all our negative feelings were amplified. Perhaps if someone had spoken to me as if I were actually worth their time it would have been different. The first feelings we had after picking you up off the doorstep were terror and grief and anger. Terror - well, you were practically blue with cold - and my sister had just been murdered. That's what the...Charm latched onto.

I hope we may move forward, Harry.

Your Aunt Petunia

P.S. As I am apparently your guardian in both worlds now, I have received post from the wizarding bank. They are asking for a meeting with me to discuss your accounts. I'll only go if you give me leave to do so. I was an accountant before I married Vernon and I was good at my profession. If you wish, I can make certain everything is in order. I believe I may like these Goblins. They seem very businesslike.

#letters from petunia #harry potter au #harry potter epistolary fanfic #petunia dursley #harry potter #severus snape