#that’s my understanding of the timeline | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hannieehaee · 2 days

Text

raindrops (an angel cried) (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: being assigned watching duties over humans was usually a task reserved for high level angels. on jeonghan's first week of promotion, he finds himself far too curious about licentious human activities, becoming infatuated with his assigned human. what happens when his interest goes too far, it gets him kicked out of heaven?

content: fallenangel!jeonghan, jeonghan is your guardian angel up until he gets kicked out of heaven oops, infatuation, inexperienced jeonghan, even as an angel he's still a menace to all, heaven is super strict, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of masturbation, penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 936 (teaser); 11.1k (full fic)

release date: may 17th

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: angel!jeonghan was a must so here it is

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Who is that?", asked Jeonghan, apprehension in his eyes.

"That's your human."

"My human? I'm getting a promotion?"

"Listen, Jeonghan. I had to call in a lot of favors to get the higher ups to let you get this promotion. You better follow the rules to the letter. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Kwannie, I know," he rolled his eyes, "Why do you have so little trust in me?"

"I'm serious, Jeonghan. If you keep messing up, you might get kicked out of heaven. Do you really want to be down there with the humans? Being a mortal?"

Jeonghan couldn't help but think the idea sounded enticing.

He hadn't had too much exposure to humans thus far, but he had always had great interest in them. They just sounded so free and different from one another, unlike in heaven, where specific behavior was to be expected from every working angel.

Within heaven, you were either born as an elite sort of angel, – with all their angelic duties assigned – or you were born human and then admitted into heaven as an angel, getting to enjoy eternal happiness with your loved ones. Jeonghan, sadly, was the former. Having been born into an angel position, it meant that although his life was not miserable by any means, it was just a closed box of responsibilities to fulfill until the end of eternity. He truly envied all the humans-turned-angels in heaven, often asking them about their memories as humans and trying to live vicariously through them.

Due to his constant curiosity of humans, Jeonghan often got in trouble as he stuck his nose in places it shouldn't be. As an angelic being, Jeonghan's duties as an angel were mostly clerical, managing which human each angel would be assigned to as a guardian angel. Ever since being born as an angelic entity, Jeonghan's dream had been to be promoted into a guardian angel position. In his current job, the most interaction with humans he ever got was the ability to see a quick overview of their timelines in order to assess which guardian angel would be the best fit for them. His job was comfortable and stable, never causing him any trouble. But he wanted more. He wanted to be down there, on the playing field as he watched over his own human.

So he would cheat occasionally, maybe snooping into human's lives for more than he was allowed to. Sometimes he'd pause on certain bits that drew a little curiosity and simply observe. He'd also on occasion tried to make his way down to Earth, only to check things out on his own. All his attempts were always met with reprimands from his higher ups, claiming that a soul as curious as his own should not be near humans. The existence of angels was meant to stay a myth, after all.

When Seungkwan took him into one of the offices designated for guardian angels, Jeonghan had been shocked. He had been banned from being brought here a few years back, so it was a very well appreciated change of pace for him. What was even more shocking, however, was when Seungkwan led him into one of the sphere rooms, which contained a view of any and every human in existence in real time. The most shocking thing, though? The pretty girl reflecting on the globe, very deep in slumber as Seungkwan revealed Jeonghan's promotion.

"Her old guardian angel retired. Chose to move to the land of humans-turned-angels. Angel Jihoon was simply going to ask you to assign her a new angel, but I put in a good word for you, so he gave you the job. Don't fuck it up, Jeonghan. Do you understand?", his friend was quite stern as he warned him.

"Big words for an angel."

"Don't go puritanical on me, Jeonghan. Your behavior in Heaven doesn't matter. It's when you meddle with humans that you'll get in trouble. Just ... Please follow the rules and don't step out of line."

Seungkwan was right. From all the accounts he heard from angels who had died and gone to heaven, Heaven and Earth were quite similar. People held jobs, lived a day to day life, had relationships. There were a few stark differences, though. There was no suffering in Heaven – no illness, no tiredness, no debilitating feelings. Sure, frustration and annoyance were a thing (God knew Jeonghan had felt those things), but it was virtually impossible to be truly unhappy in Heaven.

Jeonghan had no problem with Heaven, he was just far too curious about humans to stay still and do nothing. He was not allowed to admit it, but he had always wanted to know what it'd be like to be human. To live through pain, struggle, confusion. He just wanted to experience it all.

Angels had no needs in heaven. Hunger didn't exist, neither did aging or an itch to do or feel things humans usually engaged in. For instance, while Jeonghan had heard of sex and romantic relationships, this was something that angels did not have the innate desire to feel, as they were born fulfilled in every sense. Human-born angels, however, brought their humanly experiences and emotions along with them to heaven, sometimes telling tales of such things, always drawing Jeonghan's curiosity to new heights.

Looking at you through the sphere, Jeonghan felt excitement at thinking of what humanly emotions you may be feeling. He also felt giddy at knowing that you would one day come to pass onto his heavenly realm, where he would meet you after having known you for the entirety of your lifetime.

...

read today on ko-fi or patreon by subscribing to either one<3

NOTE: comment if u'd like to be tagged when it comes out<3 i wont respond to comments but if u reply ill tag u<3

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen #svt #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan smut #jeonghan scenarios

268 notes · View notes

dcxdpdabbles · 3 days

Note

Could you please pleasepleaseplease p l e a s e continue the halfa cass post? I'm dying for some more of it, it's SO GOOD

The first thing Cass notices about the Fentons is how utterly silly they are. She had been expecting a group of far more regal people, especially with the castle they lived in and being protected by Phantom.

She still doesn't really understand what's going on, but she can piece together that Phantom is in charge. The people who had stopped to stare at her all whispered about the King, and she could tell that a few of them gained helpless hope by the mere sight of her.

If they were truly trapped here, then her appearance meant there was a chance of escaping.

But were they trapped because of Phantom? Dan mentioned the Fae's costumes of tricking humans into signing slavery contracts with a feast. Had Phantom done the same?

"Maddie!" Dan yells at the top of his lungs, floating towards the draw bridge. "Maddie, I think you want to look at this!"

"What is it, sweetie?" A woman calls back, quickly followed by an explosion in the left tower. Cass stiffens as the window of the tower is flung open, and a woman in an overalls sticks out her head. Behind her, black smoke rises. "I was just making headway in the latest Fenton Escaper!"

"Really? How's that going?"

"It exploded! There is nothing left!" She beams, pulling her oversized goggles off her head. They leave a black outline around her eyes. .

Dan's body language doesn't show his surprise at her failure. In fact he seems oddly amused. It must be a common thing."I supposed that's good?"

"Oh, it's wonderful! Jake is going to be so happy that it reacted quickly to the new element!" The woman chirps. "He's out with Danny, gathering some more supplies for our people."

"They went hunting without me?"

"You know you're grounded, young man."

Wait, was this woman Dan's mother? Could the dead have parents? Or was it more of an adoption relationship?

"Yeah, Yeah, I know. Anyway, Maddie, I wanted to introduce you to the new arrival-"

"You brought a girl home!" Maddie cuts him off, flinging herself out the window. Cass would have rushed to her aid were it not for her apparent control as she spun into a landing. "Hello there! I'm Maddie Fenton! Dan's mother from another timeline, welcome to the family!"

Cass could tell she was going for a hug before the hug arrived, but she was still somewhat surprised by how forward Maddie was. Oddly friendly in a way no one in Gotham dared to be. Unless they were crazy like Harely. She can only blink as the woman wraps her up in an embrace, her muscles belying her small frame.

A fighter. A rather skilled one at that.

"I was so worried Dan would never find a partner!"

"Maddie! She's not my girlfriend!" Dan hisses, "She's a kid!"

"I'm twenty-one" Cass corrects

"A baby," Dan insists.

"Oh, that's a shame. She's gorgeous- from what I can see with the mask. The grandchildren would have been beautiful." Maddie sighs, letting her go. Then, it seems the woman noticed her features for the first time because she looked startled. "Are you a living human?"

"Worst. She's a halfa," Dan responds. Maddie's upper body goes rigid, and Cass can see thousands of emotions go through her—shock, denial, awe, wonder, glee, despair—to name a few—before she settles on one.

Glee.

"Jazz! Dani! Come here!" She screams, and Cass only has a few seconds to step away from Maddie's sudden craze before another glowing blur speeds towards them.

It's a younger version of Dan but female. She stops just short of ramming into Dan with a giggle. "Made you flinch!"

"You did not."

"Did, too." The girl, nineteen maybe, insists but twists to Maddie while speaking. It doesn't seem like she thinks about whether she is correct. Cass wondered if she should say that Dan really did not flinch. Besides his hair swaying slightly by the gust of wind she created, he hadn't moved from his crossed-arm position. "Who's this?"

"A new Halfa!" Maddie cheers.

The girl's friendly demeanor crumbles into horror. "What?"

"I know- isn't this exciting?"

"No, Mom, it means she died." Yet another voice sighs. "What did we say about our science?"

"Not to let it overpower my morals and to be tactful of other feelings." Maddie quotes with an eye roll, though Cass can tell she's not bothered by the reminder. Strutting from the castle draw bridge, the only one that uses it is a beautiful woman clad in a purple sleeveless dress.

She moves with the confidence and elegance Cass had expected of a Queen. It's when she stands next to Maddie that it becomes clear they are mother and daughter- almost all her features are a copy of Maddie. "Hello there. I'm Jazz Fenton. I heard you've been through a horrible ordeal. I'm very sorry for your loss of life."

Cass blinks at her, then shrugs. She isn't sure if she is grateful that Damian's ninja mask is still across her face, keeping her amusement hidden.

Jazz smiles even wider. "Welcome to Phantom's Keep. We welcome you inside."

Hmmm, well, no, Cass did not like how she said that. Sounded a little too Fae-like for her taste.

Jazz isn't aware of her unease as she gestures to the castle. "We have some questions on how you arrived. See, Dan and I thought you had died and placed you in the sector for new ghosts. Dan was supposed to greet you and get you settled. But your new status changes everything."

Was Jazz....Phantom?

If so, Cass needed to be careful how she continued interacting with the woman. She didn't want to get stuck here for seven years, either. She had a family she was going to get back to.

__________________________________________________________

"Where is Cass? She hasn't checked in for days," Bruce asks his children, looking over everyone's logs. Her last entry was twenty-four days ago, a short "Investigating Amity Park—pending field report" blinking on his screen.

"I'll ask Raven." Damian volunteered. "She should be able to give more insight into Cass' mission."

"Thank you, son."

Bruce hoped the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach was just untreated paranoia like his children liked to claim and not that something had happened to his daughter. He never liked it when his gut feelings were right.

They were never a good reason.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Cass the Halfa #Part 3 #Time moves oddly in the Ghost zone #Cass meets the Fentons and went “Jazz seems the most sane”#Dan and Dani are siblings

104 notes · View notes

dreamcubed · 20 hours

Text

...ready for it? | mattheo riddle x reader

song; ...ready for it? [taylor swift] pairing; mattheo riddle x fem!muggle-born!reader genre; fake dating, s2l, fluff, smut word count; 5,3k timeline; subsidiary 8th year warnings; swearing, references to alcohol/drugs/smoking, violence, blood and injury, piv sex, unprotected sex, fingering, discrimination (of muggle-borns) summary; following the war, mattheo is suffocated by the association with his father, and decides there is only one way to make people see that he is nothing like him. you, on the other hand, want to prove to people that, in the year you've been in hiding, you have changed from the naïve goody-two-shoes you once were

screaming crying throwing up at how good tortured poets department is

masterlist

"in the middle of the night, in my dreams, you should see the things we do."

————————————————

The rumours followed Mattheo Riddle like hitmen— praying for his downfall, never leaving him alone, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. To many, it was obvious what he was before even meeting him. Evidently, the son of the Dark Lord was every bit as bad as his father, would fill his shoes now that he was dead, that there would be a Third Wizarding War with Mattheo at the very centre of it. Never mind that he hardly knew his father, that Voldemort had been gone for almost his entire childhood.

After the final demise of the Dark Lord, and Mattheo had elected to return to Hogwarts for the subsidiary eighth year, his reputation built on gossip and assumptions had only gotten worse. It hadn't helped that he now bore the dark mark on his left forearm, and he had tried to explain that his father had forced him to take it, that he would have hurt him in unthinkable ways if he didn't, but no one listened. No one cared. He still had his friends, but his association with them didn't help, as most of them were pure-blooded Slytherins whose families were death eaters.

But without them he would have nothing.

He didn't understand— no one was nearly as mad at Draco for walking over to the Dark Lord at the final battle as they were at him for simply possessing some of his DNA. It made him resent his cousin, but he knew he couldn't blame him. He had been every bit as coerced into the death eater cult as him: threatened with the deaths of them and their families.

Muggle-borns and the majority of the half-bloods avoided him like the plague; even some pure-bloods, who were far more politically correct, looked at him with distaste in their eyes. Mattheo wanted to scream to the whole world that he wasn't his father and didn't give a single fuck about blood purity. But who would listen? They would see that he was screaming and immediately associate his anger with the desire to start a war.

You, on the other hand, also couldn't escape your reputation. Prior to the war, you had been known as a goody-two-shoes, called uptight, boring, a smartass. While in hiding throughout seventh year, you had shed any resemblance you had to such an identity, but despite appearing and acting completely differently now you had returned for the subsidiary eighth year, your peers still treated you like a naïve and overly innocent child. Bullied you, even, in some more extreme cases. They viewed you as socially inept, sexually unaware, scared of alcohol, smoking and drugs.

They wouldn't listen when you told them that you had changed— so, there you found yourself, in a Saturday detention after doing something incredibly stupid to get people to stop seeing you that way. The stupid thing in question? You had let yourself get caught being outside of your house quarters after curfew. It was pathetic, and an admittedly idiotic thing to do just for the sake of changing your reputation, but there you were.

Worst thing was it hadn't even worked.

"I bet she had a panic attack," a Ravenclaw girl had giggled.

"She definitely got on her knees and started begging for the professor to show mercy," a Hufflepuff boy had laughed.

They still saw you as pathetic and helpless: a certified teacher's pet.

"Miss L/N, you'll be serving detention with Mr Riddle today," Professor McGonagall spoke, snapping you out of your self-pitying thoughts, "Your task will be to clean every cauldron here in the potions classroom— by hand, no magic— until they are gleaming."

You glanced over to your right to see that Mattheo Riddle was indeed sat there: he must have snuck in while you were deep in thought. It was just your luck, that your weak attempt would have the worst possible consequences— being stuck in detention with the Dark Lord's son as a muggle-born.

"I will check on you both periodically." The headmistress then departed, but not before saying to you, "I'm disappointed in you, Miss L/N."

Even your professors still saw you as naïve. It made you angry.

Mattheo watched you curiously as you stormed over to the big stack of cauldrons and roughly grabbed one, slamming it down on the floor and grabbing the muggle cleaning supplies left out. You started scrubbing in such an anger-fuelled rigorous manner that he almost forgot that he was supposed to be helping you.

"You gonna help or not?" you snapped.

His eyes widened, and he couldn't stop a smirk from gracing his lips, "Never thought I'd see the day where goody-two-shoes L/N is in detention and yells at me."

"Would people stop fucking saying that?" you said all too loud, "I hate it. I fucking hate it."

"Hate what?" Mattheo asked delicately, standing up and walking over to grab a cauldron from the pile.

"Being called a goody-two-shoes like I'm some kind of child," you scowled, "I'm sick of being treated like I've never even had a sip of alcohol."

This was the first time since before the war that a muggle-born had even entertained having a full conversation with Mattheo, even if you were filled with rage throughout it. Because of that, he decided that he needed to calm you down and make you actually like him— association with a muggle-born could completely transform his reputation.

"I'm sorry," he said delicately, the words foreign to him, "I didn't realise it hurt you so much."

You stopped scrubbing the cauldron to look up at him with shock evident on your face: had the son of Voldemort just apologised to you? He had to be mocking you, there was no way he wasn't. "You're making fun of me," you said cautiously.

"I'm not, I swear," he held his hands up in surrender, "I know all too well what it's like to not be able to escape a reputation."

"Aren't you in here for getting into a fight?" you raised an eyebrow curiously.

He nodded grimly, "Guy wouldn't stop saying I'm exactly like my father."

And that was when your opinion of Mattheo began to soften, and you started to feel bad for assuming he hated muggle-borns simply because of who his father was. But he did have the Dark Mark.

"If you're not like him, why did you get that?" you gestured towards his left arm, which was covered but everyone knew what sat there.

Mattheo drew back, "He was responsible for genocide, do you really think he was beyond threatening me if I didn't take it?" His words were cold, and angry.

"Sorry," you mumbled, regretting asking such a personal question when you hardly knew him.

Silence fell upon you both for a couple minutes as you polished away at the cauldrons.

"For the record, I didn't ever think you'd only had a sip of alcohol."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, "No?"

He shrugged, "Everyone gets drunk. I just thought you only did it outside of school."

A small smile crept on to your face, "Thank you, mind telling everyone else that?"

"Sure."

You had said it as a joke— you didn't expect him to be so agreeable. "Really?"

He nodded.

"Oh, God, now I feel so bad."

"Why?" Mattheo asked, finding your muggle-speaking mannerisms endearing.

"Because I believed your reputation."

"You don't anymore?"

You shook your head, "This is the first time someone's ever treated me my age."

He tilted his head curiously, "You know, I think we might be able to help each other's reputations."

"You do?"

"Think about it," he shifted closer to you, "People think I hate muggle-borns, you're a muggle-born. People think you're an innocent goody-two-shoes, I'm known for being quite the opposite."

"So...?"

"We date."

Your brain short circuited and you dropped your cloth into the cauldron, "We... date?"

"Not for real," he clarified, "Just until people's views of us are changed."

You thought it over. It was true: no one would think of Mattheo as like his father if he was willingly in a relationship with a muggle-born, and no real goody-two-shoes would date bad boy Mattheo Riddle.

"Okay," you said, holding out your hand, "Let's do it."

The boy smirked, taking your hand, "Perfect."

***

When you arrived at dinner that evening, after a long few hours of cleaning cauldrons until they glistened, it was hand in hand. He squeezed your palm softly as watchful eyes observed the two of you together, and he even tugged you over to the Slytherin table, making you give him a worried look.

"They'll be civil," he leaned down to whisper in your ear. You nodded nervously.

All of his friends were in silence as they watched you take a seat next to Mattheo, and their jaws almost dropped when he began dishing food on to your plate first. You felt embarrassed under their gaze, but you didn't let it show, thanking Mattheo once your plate was full. He gave you a soft smile that you had never seen grace his face before— not that you had ever been close enough to him to see it.

One of his friends, Blaise Zabini, cleared his throat and broke the silence, "So, uh, are you two a thing?"

"Yeah," your 'boyfriend' replied.

"I didn't even know you were courting," Blaise stated simply, clearly suspicious.

"There's a lot of things you don't know," Mattheo said vaguely, "Can't a man have some secrets?"

Silence fell once more.

"Do any of you have a problem?" he asked, the slightest hint of anger lacing his tone.

They all immediately shook their heads.

"Good."

Despite Mattheo's friends being remarkably docile towards you, you could still feel the stare of other people littered around the room. It was quite a shock, you supposed, as you two were probably the last couple anyone would have expected. Regardless, they should really learn to mind their business— if they did, you wouldn't have to be doing a whole fake dating scheme in the first place.

***

Mattheo walked you to class, held your hand in the corridors, and even carried your books for you wherever you went. Stares continued to follow, but people no longer called you a goody-two-shoes: no, instead when you overheard people ask about you, they said "she's Riddle's girl" instead. You would prefer to be thought of as your own person, but it was certainly a step up from the reputation that you were so sick of. That, and Mattheo had informed you that muggle-borns were no longer avoiding him like the plague, even occasionally nodding at him in the hallways. All around, the plan was working.

No one knew that your dating scheme was fake apart from the two of you, even his friends believed it— and, despite your blood status, they were beginning to warm up to you. Pansy especially, and you were grateful to finally have someone that you could consider a friend.

One chilly Tuesday morning, when Mattheo was walking you to your ancient runes lesson, there was another girl in your class being 'dropped off' by her boyfriend. You both watched as he leaned down to peck her lips before leaving, and you didn't think anything of it until you reached the door and Mattheo leaned down to press a soft kiss on your lips. Taken aback, your ears heated up, and you felt shy as he smirked at you.

"What was that for?" you whispered.

The man before you shrugged, "He did it. Can't have people knowing the truth about us."

"They have no reason to suspect it," you grumbled, but you couldn't deny the butterflies swarming around your stomach.

"Better safe than sorry," he grinned cheekily, "I'll see you later, doll, yeah?"

You nodded, caught off guard when he kissed you yet again.

You were in a daze when you entered the classroom, and you knew that everyone could guess why there was a smile plastered on your face. You felt like a lovesick fool, when you weren't even in love.

***

Mattheo had insisted that people would question the validity of your relationship if you didn't go on Hogsmeade dates together: every Hogwarts couple went on dates to Hogsmeade. You had reminded him that people had no reason to question whether or not your relationship was fake, but he had once again shrugged and said, "Better safe than sorry." Not that you minded, of course, you had always wanted to participate in the Hogsmeade dating tradition. Although, it did make you wonder how long this dating scheme would go on for, as Mattheo's reputation was essentially already completely transformed.

"Can we go in Honeydukes?" you asked as Mattheo, like the gentleman he apparently was, helped you down from the carriage.

"Of course," he smiled, not letting your hand go, "Wherever you want, doll."

Your stomach flipped, but there remained an itching notion in the back of your head. It was fake: it was all fake. He was only being so gentlemanly and caring to prove to the school that not only did he not share his father's views on muggle-borns, but that he could dote on one like it was his life's purpose. All he wanted was to no longer be seen as the devil's incarnate, so he presented himself as an angel. But, when he looked at you with that smirk and that glint in his eyes, it would feel real— just for the briefest moment. No one had ever been romantically interested in you before, maybe that's why you felt his actions deep in your core.

"Hello? Y/N?" his voice snapped you out of your drifting thoughts, and you realised that he was talking to you.

"Hm?"

"Thought I'd lost you there," he chuckled, "C'mon, doll— Honeydukes, remember?"

"Yeah, sorry," you looked down abashedly, and his grip on your hand tightened.

"Sometime this year, if that's okay with you."

***

Mattheo's ring-clad hands left a cool trail against your blazing skin, setting your insides alight as you felt wetness pool at your core. He had his signature smirk settled on his face, the smooth curve of his pink lips sending sparks throughout your body. The hazed look in his dark eyes likely mirrored the one in yours— you were getting desperate, revelling in the way he stared at your tits.

"Please, Matty," you murmured, begging for something, anything.

His sinister chuckle made your senses twitch and tingle. "Please what? What do you want, doll?"

"You," you said thoughtlessly, reaching your hands up to grasp on to his shirt.

"I'm all yours," he whispered, his hand trailing down to the inside of your shorts and panties. When he finally made contact with your slick entrance, your hips bucked up, grateful to have finally received some amount of stimulation. "You're so wet for me."

You hummed as he began tracing circles on your clit, forcing out a moaned, "Only for you."

He applied more pressure, making you grasp on to the bedsheets for dear life, unable to physically comprehend the magic feel of his calloused fingertips. The smirk on his face returned as he watched you writhe beneath him, and you felt your peak approaching faster than you had imagined was possible. Everything about it felt so right, so perfect, so erotic.

"You gonna come for me, angel?" he asked, his eyes locked on to yours.

You nodded.

"Then come."

And just as you felt your muscles begin to tighten and the pleasure begin to climax, the moment was cut short.

***

You were in bed, that much was still the same, but there was no sign of a Slytherin descendant anywhere in your vicinity, and your tits were not out in the open, being enclosed within your large pyjama shirt. You groaned, feeling the pool of wetness between your legs, but being unable to do anything about it due to your shared dormitory situation. Fuck, Mattheo wasn't even your real boyfriend, and you had just had a godly wet dream about him that lit a match in your soul.

How could you face him after picturing him in such an intimate situation? How could you pretend like you were okay with the surface-level falseness of your façade? He was your doom's day: you could feel it. You should never have agreed to a fake relationship, and remained begrudgingly within your outdated reputation.

Reluctantly, you peeled the covers off of your sweating body, and made your way to the showers.

***

Avoiding him was just as impossible as being around him. For one, you couldn't risk people questioning the stability or realness of your relationship. For two, the second you entered the Great Hall for breakfast, he was beckoning you over to where his friends were. And you couldn't very well ignore him when he had done absolutely nothing wrong.

"Hey, doll," he greeted you, pecking your cheek in the process. The very action made the flame burn brighter.

"Hi," you all but squeaked, focusing your attention on taking some waffles.

"We were just discussing the next quidditch game."

"It's a guaranteed win for Slytherin," Zabini smirked, knowing full well that the team that they would be playing against was your house's.

You scrunched up your nose, "I wouldn't be so sure."

"Are you not even gonna wear my jumper during the game?" Mattheo asked, sending yet another sparking bolt straight through your veins. You could feel your body heating up just by being in his presence.

"Against any other house I would, but I have to draw the line somewhere," you said, hoping your voice sounded completely normal and not at all like you craved his naked form. Unfortunately, the appeal of wearing a clothing item that would have his scent woven into its fabric was not helping your case.

"Pity," he grumbled.

Thankfully, Zabini challenging your opinion that Slytherin wasn't guaranteed to win led to a wonderfully distracting argument with the rest of the Slytherin boys. Not only was it a distraction, but it also made you feel as if they saw you as an equal, not just as a muggle-born, but in age and lack of innocence as well. It was a stupid notion, but it was the kind of treatment that you had desired for so long.

"I can't stand this quidditch talk any longer," Pansy finally said, having remained quiet for the majority of the conversation, "Y/N, wanna get away from the men?"

"Please," you murmured, grateful to escape the intoxicating presence of Mattheo.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

Pansy shook her head as she stood up, "Anywhere but here. The girls' toilets if it means getting away from you all."

You giggled, going to stand up. You felt Mattheo's hand grasp your wrist, giving way to tingly sensations reminiscent of last night's dream.

"I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Of course," you nearly stuttered, "We have defence against the dark arts."

He nodded, letting go of your wrist, before saying to Pansy, "Don't keep her too long."

"Calm down, lover boy," she retorted, linking arms with you as you began to walk off.

The last thing you heard from the Slytherin boys was Berkshire saying to Mattheo, "You're pussy-whipped, mate."

Oh, how you wished he was.

***

"I don't know how you managed to lock down prince of the fuckboys Mattheo," Pansy spoke as you both entered the girls' toilets, "And I do see the way he looks at you-"

"The way he looks at me?"

She nodded, "Like you're the only girl in the room— but, please be careful. I don't want you getting hurt."

You knew that it was too late for that, as you had caught feelings in a fake relationship, and it was killing you inside that you couldn't tell anyone about it. All you could do was agree with Pansy. "Thank you for your concern, I appreciate it."

"Of course, we're friends," Pansy smiled, "And I love Mattheo dearly as a friend, but I know his history when it comes to romance and sex."

"People change," you murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

"That they do," she agreed, "But just be sure of Mattheo's change before you fall madly in love with him."

Somehow you feared it was too late for that.

***

During defence against the dark arts— a theory lesson, unfortunately— you found your seat next to Mattheo as you let Pansy's words mull over you. The anxious pondering that you were in too deep caused you to start nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It was an action that did not go unnoticed by Mattheo, who furrowed his eyebrows at your behaviour. Gently, he placed his hand on your thigh and watched as you froze up at the contact.

Because, little did he know, the simple act of a touch so close to your core sent tingling flashbacks of your dream of him flooding through your veins. Your skin became ablaze with desire, and long gone was the obsessive overthinking about what Pansy had said to you. You sucked in a shallow breath, gripping your quill tightly as you glanced towards Mattheo who was now looking at you with thrice the concern than he was earlier.

"You okay?" he whispered.

You gulped and nodded, but it was clear that he didn't believe you. He squeezed your thigh gently, and you swore that your brain nearly short-circuited— yet you didn't want to push his hand off. This moment was so far removed from the fake external image of your relationship that you temporarily forgot all of your concerns. No one could see where his hand was: it served no purpose towards your reputation as a couple.

Merlin knows you would never be able to recall the content of that lesson.

***

One breezy autumnal afternoon and you were walking down the hallway, hand in hand with Mattheo and giggling about this and that. You had finally pushed Pansy's warning to the very back of your mind, and allowed yourself to almost fully immerse yourself in the moment with your so-called boyfriend. The interlocked nature of your hands felt natural as you paid no mind to bystanders.

That was, until, the unmistakable word of mudblood passed through your ears from the direction of a seventh year Slytherin, who evidently disapproved of your newfound association with the house. It was annoying, really, how your ears always tuned into that word no matter how distracted you were. You paused in your movements and stared at him: you were no longer timid, nor a push-over. Mattheo looked confusedly at you and where you were looking.

"What are you looking at, mudblood?" the seventh year sneered at you, and before you could even say anything, Mattheo's hand had let go of yours.

And he had barrelled right into the boy, throwing merciless punches as his face went stone cold. "Do you wanna say that again, hm?" he spat, landing another solid hit, "Don't ever fucking talk about my girlfriend like that."

You stared in shock at the brawl, feeling a whole wave of mixed emotions— Mattheo was defending you, and by God did he look fucking hot doing it. But, also, you really should break up the fight before he committed manslaughter.

"Mattheo," you said softly, but he didn't hear you, so you said louder and more sternly, "Mattheo."

His movements ceased and he resorted to staring down at the boy who now groaned in pain, covered in blood and already darkening bruises.

"This was a warning," he said carefully, "Next time I won't stop."

You shook your head, grabbing his bicep to pull him off the boy for good and dragging him away. It was lucky there hadn't been a professor around, but they would probably still find out one way or another and Mattheo would get punished. For now, however, he was yours to deal with.

"I can fight my own battles," you bit off, but there wasn't any real malice in your tone.

"I know," he said simply.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, "Thank you, though, for defending me."

"Of course. No one belittles my girl."

Your heart flipped— there was nobody around, there was no reason for him to say that. Deciding to focus your attention in order to ignore the thumping of your heart, you analysed his hands. "We need to get you cleaned up."

"It's just a little blood," he shrugged.

"A little is still too much. C'mon."

You dragged him to the abandoned girls' toilets, where Moaning Myrtle resided, and ran some toilet paper (which had probably been there for decades) under the tap. As you began delicately wiping down the injuries, Mattheo watched you with intrigue, admiring your attention to detail. Little did he know, you were simply trying to stop yourself from replaying the sexiest image you had ever scene in your life inside your head. You felt as if you were about to burst into flames.

Once you were finally done, you chucked the toilet paper into a toilet and re-emerged from the cubicle, making eye contact with the man leaning against the sinks. Moaning Myrtle seemed to be nowhere in sight.

Which was a good thing, because the tension in the air was thick— thicker than blood. You bit your lip as Mattheo's eyes raked down your body and drank you in. Under his gaze, you felt purely animalistic: beauty didn't matter, intelligence didn't matter... all that mattered was skin on skin and bodies becoming one. But, when it became clear no one was going to make a move, you said, "Pansy warned me about you."

"In what way?" he smirked.

"That I shouldn't get in too deep with the prince of fuckboys until I'm sure you've changed."

"And do you think I've changed?"

"What does it matter? We're not actually together."

A flash of hurt coursed through Mattheo at the reminder, but he remained stoic and said, "That's not what I asked, is it?"

You stared at him blankly.

"Do you think I've changed?" he repeated.

You said nothing.

"Because I think I've changed," he stepped closer to you, "So, I'll ask you one more time, do you think I've changed?"

"Yes," you replied feebly.

"My friends think I've changed," he continued, "They think I'm pussy-whipped."

You felt bold for the briefest moment, and asked, "Are you?"

He shrugged, leaning his face down until it was inches from yours, "I don't know yet. Guess we'll have to find out."

And then his lips were on yours in a passionate frenzy. None of those pecks he had given you in greeting and goodbye: no, this was a real kiss, one that had the fire in your heart dancing erratically. You pulled away, breathless, to see that Mattheo was looking at you with hazy dark eyes.

"Was that real?" you asked.

"Well, it happened, didn't it?"

You shook your head, "I mean, was it real?"

A smirk tugged on his lips, "No one was here to see, sweetheart."

And that was all the confirmation you needed to kiss him again, sliding your tongue along his lips as he grabbed your ass, squeezing and groaning. You felt electric, alive— transcendent. His mouth moved from your lips, to along your jaw, to your neck. He sucked and licked in a way that had you letting out a gasp, melting under his touch.

"You're my nicotine," he mumbled, slipping a hand under your skirt and pushing you back against the wall.

You moaned as his fingers glided over your clit.

"You like that, doll?"

Helplessly, you nodded, your legs buckling as he applied more pressure and more vigour.

"Mhm, that's my girl," he murmured, bringing you quicker to your release than you had ever been able to manage yourself.

"Fuck, Matty, I'm gonna come," you gasped out, hips bucking up as you leaned against the tiled wall.

He chuckled as you rode out your high, the slickness of your pussy creating a squelching sound throughout the acoustics of the massive vacant toilets.

"I hate it when my friends call me that," he muttered, pulling his fingers out from under your skirt.

Your ears heated up even more— if that was possible— and you quickly rushed out a, "Sorry."

"Don't be," he kissed your lips softly, "I like it when you say it."

Your lips curved into a shy smile.

"Do you mind if we deal with a certain problem?" he asked, gesturing to the tent in his trousers that had more slick leaking from you at the sight of.

"Of course," you said slyly, a new wave of confidence rushing over you. Slowly, you walked around him and sauntered over to the sinks, pulling your tights and panties down as you leaned forward and lifted up your skirt.

"Fuck," you heard him curse, "You really have changed."

And then he was behind you, as suggested by the sound of a zipper so close to you, and the fact you could see him in the mirror. You watched as he pulled out his dick, which was thick and long, making your mouth water as he lined himself up with your entrance.

"Are you sure?" he questioned, not sure if he could take any answer but 'yes'.

You bobbed your head, "Fuck me, Matty."

"As you wish, doll." And then he was inside you, filling you to the brim and making you feel as if you were finally whole.

"Fuck," you gasped, clutching the edge of the sink as he began thrusting, your eyes tightly shut.

"Look at me."

You opened your eyes, making eye contact with him in the looking glass. Sweat was gathered on his brow, and his hands were tightly on your hips— you felt so close to him, in such a real and authentic way that had your soul burning.

One of his hands moved, retreating out of your view, but you knew exactly where it went when you felt a jolt of pleasure shooting through you. He rubbed circles that had you seeing stars, your moans and curses pushing Mattheo close to the edge along with the pure ecstasy of how you felt around him. He didn't think he had ever been so vocal during sex before, but with you, everything felt brand new. Finally, Mattheo felt like he belonged somewhere, felt like he was nothing like his father— but he had no place in his thoughts at that moment. Instead, he focused on you and the clothed curves of your body, until he was about to explode.

"Can I come inside you?" he panted.

In a sex haze, you moaned, "Yes."

And then his release hit, the throbbing of his dick pushing you to your second orgasm as his movements became sloppy. Eventually, once your highs had been ridden through, he stopped moving, the only sounds remaining being the ones of heavy breathing. When he had pulled out, and you had both cleaned up and done up your clothes, you gave him a teasing smile.

"Are we real now?"

He chuckled, "This was never fake. Not to me."

"Well, then, boyfriend," you smirked, "Better scurry on and get me a Plan B potion."

He pressed a kiss to your lips, "Yes, ma'am."

And he took your hand in his.

———————————————

masterlist

written; 10/04/2024 —> 25/04/2024 published; 25/04/2024 edited; —/—/——

90 notes · View notes

myhaikyuuacademia · 2 days

Text

Totally fake | Ant x Reader (Heartbreak High)

Fake dating, fem!reader A/N: it’s been a while since I watched s1 so forgive me if the timeline is a little wonky. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You had no idea how you got yourself in this… situation. In this mess, honestly. Thanks to Amerie, the whole school life had imploded. Thanks a lot, Map Bitch. Now here you were, standing next to her trying to get a ticket for the party as Ant told her about how his mom reacted to the whole Darren wristy thing. Your face twinged up in sympathy. Somehow Quinni and Darren had adopted Amerie into your friendgroup after the whole thing, so here you were, supporting your new friend. Well, it was more like she dragged you along. Moral support or something. Ant ended up telling Ams to go ask Spider and she trudged away disappointed, but you stayed, hesitating. “Um, I’m sorry about your mom.” You offered. What a stupid thing to say, you cursed yourself. Boys made you nervous. “Yeah, it really sucks. I love Jesus and all but going to church 3 more times a week is reaaaaally boring.” He groaned. You began walking to your next class together. “Um.” You started talking before you could think. You were a fixer, it was a whole thing. A pathological need to fix things, which is why you couldn’t really be against Quinni and Darren taking Amerie in, you wanted to help fix this. But sometimes in your need to fix things you went a little overboard. You realized that that was what you were doing after you had already started talking, and now you didn’t know what to say. But being quiet now was also embarrassing. “What’s up?” Ant stopped and leaned against the doorway of your classroom. Looking at you expectantly. Fuck it. “Maybe I could help.” You looked at him. “With your mom I mean.” He looked confused, his brows furrowing as he tried to figure out what you were proposing. “How?” Taking a deep breath in, you began rambling the plan that had formed in your head in the span of maybe 10 seconds. Which in hindsight, perhaps was a sign that this was a really dumb idea. “Well. I’m assuming your moms problem is that Darren is not a girl. Because you’re Christian and all. Which, I don’t know, not very Christian, ya know? Loving your neighbour and all. But anyway. If her problem is in fact that, I am a very good liar, I know enough about like the bible and stuff, and I happen to be a girl…” You trail off. He looked as confused as he did before you started talking, which, honestly, you figured this would not be enough to get him to understand. It was just too embarrassing to finish. You felt cold all of a sudden. Nervous. Rubbing your arms for warmth, or perhaps in an attempt to rub the nervousness away. “I’m saying I could be your fake girlfriend until she calms down.” You finally huffed out. “Ohhhhhhh” You swore you could almost see the lightbulb that went off above his head. “Gotcha.” He nodded contemplatively. “You’re really smart, y/n, I’m impressed.” Still nodding. You were a little surprised he knew your name. People tended to not know it because you mostly kept to yourself outside of your friendship with Darren and Quinni. And you hadn’t talked to Ant before, like literally ever. Yeah you shared a lot of classes, but he didn’t really seem to pay attention and so far you had never been paired with him for any group work. “Let’s do it.” He grinned, excitedly. “Wait what?” Your eyes widened in surprise. “For real?” You didn’t know what you expected his answer to be, but for some reason you hadn’t prepared yourself for a yes.

“Yeah! I’m in! I only see positives honestly. I get to pretend to date the coolest girl I know and get my mom off my back.” Wait, what did he say? The coolest girl he knows? Huh? You blinked in confusion as he left you standing in front of the open door to go to his seat. Autopilot activated you went to your seat, in between Darren and Quinni. Completely zoned out your eyes trained on Ant who was sitting a couple rows ahead and to your right. “Earth to y/n, repeat Earth to y/n.” A hand was waving in front of your face and you blinked as you turned to Darren. “huh?”. “What’s wrong with you today, space girl?” They asked. “What?” Your brain hadn’t completely caught up yet. “Why were you talking to Ant?” Quinni asked excitedly. Why was she excited? “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you talk to him before.” She mused. Uh. What were you supposed to tell them? Both of them looked at you expectantly. Completely frozen, your brain refused to cooperate. “I.. uh. Amerie. Party. Slapband. You know?” The words were more stuttered out than said, and they did in fact not know what you meant. Your saviour came in the form of a very out-of-breath Amerie, who was almost late to class, but just almost. She fell into her seat next to Quinni and immediately started babbling about whatever it was she was up to after she had left you and Ant, taking all attention off of you. And if they saw you staring at Ant the whole class, they didn’t say anything. Yet.

By the end of the school day you had bounced back, the whole Ant thing still nagging at a corner of your brain but not at the front anymore. Until you were walking out the school gate with Darren, Quinni and Amerie, that is. “Hey, y/n, Wait up!.” This caught the attention of your more than nosy friends. You stopped and turned around to see Ant jogging up with a stupidly cute grin on his face. “Um, hi, what’s up?” Your face felt unusually flushed. Your friends looked at you like they were vultures and you, and the ensuing gossip that would come from this, their prey. You didn’t need to look at them to know that. “Here.” He held out a slapband. “You don’t have one yet, do you?” “No, I don’t, actually.” You were about to tell him that you were not interested. Partys? Not your thing. But the way he looked at you, and the fact that he got you one and went out of his way to give it to you, rendered you incapable of rejecting it. He was waiting for you to take it, or do something to accept it, so you lifted your arm and held it out in front of him. He slapped it on your arm and you mumbled out a thank you. “No worries, babe.” He leaned in and gave you quick peck on the cheek before he proceeded to wink at you and then leave with a wave and a “See you later!”. You almost dropped to your knees. What the hell just happened. Wide-eyed you looked after him, hand lifting to touch the cheek he had just kissed, legs still awfully wobbly. “BABE?!?!?!” A chorus of awestruck half-yells ripped you out of your moment, seconds before your friends came into view in front of you and crowded you. This was… too much. You gave up trying to keep your legs steady and dropped down to the ground, sitting on your knees, before shifting to sit criss-cross applesauce. “Whoa, shit girl, you okay?” Amerie dropped down next to you. Not trusting your voice you simply nodded yes. “Oh my god, you and Anthony Vaughn?” Darren crouched down next, almost scandalized by what they had just witnessed. “Oh, are we sitting now?” Quinni, bless her, sat down next to you. “Yeah…” You just said, to no one in particular, nodding. “Oh my god, you’re like, a total goner.” Amerie laughed. “I am?” You turned to look at her with puppy-dog eyes. Before this day started, you had never talked to Anthony Vaughn before, and now, before it ended, you were apparently head over heels for him. You blamed it on hormones, or some kind of chemical inbalance in your brain. Because… there was no way, right?

This would make the fake-dating significantly harder, you concluded, after you had time to mull it over. You and your friends had continued sitting on the ground for a good 10 minutes, before you felt stable enough to attempt standing and walking again. Of course they all had a million questions, yelling simultaneously, trying to understand what they had just witnessed. You had no idea what to tell them. “I will tell you once I know.” You end up saying, which leads to more questions. “Seriously guys, not right now.” You couldn’t tell them anything before you lined up stories with Ant. Well, technically you could tell them it was all fake, but they were all huge blabbermouths, and you wanted to check in with Ant first, before doing anything. You hadn’t expected him to just… go and do that. Like, at least you had expected talking to him once, or maybe twice, about what being in a fake relationship entailed, you know, lining up stories, where, what, who, when…. What kind of person his mother was, how far to go, how much to do to make it believable. But now everything had kind of blown up and it had to wait. You didn’t even have his number, you realized, after you were finally alone. The gang had tried to peer-pressure you into making this a whole goss-sesh at the diner, but you managed to worm your way out of it. Now they would probably just do it anyway, but without you to defend yourself. Not that there was anything you could say right now. Frustrated you blew a piece of hair out of your face. This was gonna be one hell of a week.

86 notes · View notes

lucabyte · 2 days

Note

i am looking at nohats au 👀 please share more

So! NoHats! I'm going to grab you and use this to ramble. A Lot.

The NoHats AU is @samhainian's it's just that I'm the strange little freak who takes the words said unto me and executes on them. But I can still do a little explainer on what our overall thoughts and vibes are. (And, that we are in fact propping up a little box with some cheese under it here. 🪤 Please (PLEASE) feel free to pick up what we're putting down.)

We're far from the only ones exploring a "what if siffrin fucking died" AU, though the main difference with NoHats is the placement of the death in the timeline. Instead of being 'Mal Du Pays Wins' or 'Act 6 encounter goes horribly wrong', the death is… Just after the (literal) falling action.

(This placement is because Sam is a comic book fan who thus has become used to characters being ripped away at the cruelest times by shitty writers. THANK FUCKING GOD adrienne is not that and isat is delightful yippieee, but, back on topic.)

Giving the party the full understanding of What Happened that you get by putting the death after black hole siffrin, but before the A6 encounter leaves an interesting gap to be filled. See, making Siffrin's death very much not Loop's fault means that… this once again reads (when not read as simply a tragedy...) as the universe doing what it sees fit to fulfull Loop's wish… Thus making Siffrin's death Loop's fault again, but only in their eyes. And only in a way they could express if they were honest about who they were…

And this is where having had excuse to waffle about my general Postcanon Loop thoughts the other day comes in handy, because Sam and I have that as our canon-compliant reading to begin with, NoHats plays off of a lot of the same readings of Loop's character. Namely: Uh Oh Somebody's Lying By Fucking Omission Again. (BECAUSE TO BE FAIR THIS TIME… HOW THE FUCK WOULD YOU HANDLE THAT?)

Now, neither Sam nor I are fanfic writers, so this has been a little bit trapped in our heads and DMs (and my unfinished art but,)

But our thoughts on how NoHats like… Goes.

Siffrin's death is peaceful, but that does not mean the aftermath of it is. I can't imagine the party takes it well, especially after understanding the circumstances of the Loops. (And, of note, in A5 where nobody had the discussion on what to do with each other's bodies should something happen…) But I'd imagine it traumabonds them somewhat (understatement of the century) and now knowing how the rest of the party feels, they resolve to travel together for the forseeable future.

The party track down Loop to deliver the terrible news, since they were clearly Siffrin's friend too, and invite Loop along to travel at least long enough to (let them grieve) get the burial over with. Loop, here, can be helpful in knowing what Siffrin would've wanted where the party would be at a loss. Loop, I think, takes a bit of a lead on the funerary aspects of it all, because, um. (Performing rites on your own body, huh?)

Then, as things are after a death, life just… Kind of has to continue on as normal. The party travel, pick up Nille, and get to know Loop as this mysterious new person. Maybe in this situation they might stay in Bambouche for a while to give Bonnie more stability since. They are probably taking it the worst. It would've come out of absolutely nowhere for everyone in the party obviously but god, for a kid? For A Kid?

It should be stated NoHats is not intended to be grimdark, just y'know. An exploration of grief. This is also why it's got a bit of a lopsided focus on Bonnie vs the rest of the party because hhrrhghghhghghhhghhghhh <- incoherent

Now, a crossroads.

How does the party discover Loop to be Siffrin? How long does it take. How much have the party embraced them as part of the family (especially with something as intense to bond over as this)?

There's the Odile option. Have her put it together and have to bring it up somehow. This could also be done by Isabeau, perhaps. He's smart. (which. God. If anything's the real Isabeau Torment Nexus it's this)

Then there's the other option batted around by Sam and I. The: The Universe Dislikes Duplicates option.

The items in the house that fzzt away when inspected. The Universe doesn't like there to be two of something, at least not when they're acknowledged. But one of something is just fine…?

Which is to say. I'm not a personal proponent of 'Loop getting their body back'. EXCEPT …… except this one time.

There's only one Siffrin now, so they don't need to be obfuscated to exist.

Consider, if you will. Loop swallowing their guilt for long enough to be comfortable. Falling back into old habits. Without another Siffrin around to compete for the niche of, they actually begin to act like Siffrin again. Not intentionally, it's just… The party is as welcoming as they've always been. And the party swears they keep catching glimpses of a face under all the light.

Then, one day, while still not fully human again, the resemblence becomes undeniable. Loop having not even noticed until everyone looks at them like they've seen a ghost.

Has it been months? How long have they kept up this lie? Is it even a lie, to them? They're Loop. But they were, once, Siffrin.

Even after explaining it, does that make it better or worse?

Bonnie cuts through the betrayed, struck-nerve reactions with a sobering "I missed you."

… Anyway !

Yeah so that's the vibe for NoHats. As for LoopLoops? That's more nebulous. I think it can go anywhere really in the NoHats timeline. I err personally toward the "Loop continuously replays the last 10 minutes before Siffrin's death almost immediately after they find out and have to parkour their ass up the House in the most distressing situation possible to try and get them to hold on, just please hold on." (Remember! Siffrin can remember the contents of Loop's loop backs in the A6 fight!)

But there is the possibility that this happens months, or worse years down the road. One last Loop back. Throw it all away for the chance to just get that one thing you didn't know you even wanted but now know you NEED.

Misc:

Okay miscellaneous time.

This is where I admit that I have a bunch of unfinished NoHats art that I haven't gotten around to yet because I feel like a right tool being so obviously Loop-Centric with my fancontent (I AM . . I REALISE I AM NOT DOING MUCH TO BEAT THE ALLEGATIONS.) So like if people want to see that please say because euaghghghhfh <- the nervous.

this is like the most fucked up place to do isaloop fr. anyway.

one of Sam's mid-game observations that I'm just going to share for no particular reason is that Bonnie's hair shares a bunch of shapes with Siffrin's. The flick up at the top, the 3 pronged shape of the fringe… just something to think about.

Without 2 Siffrins around to compare each other to it'd likely be a lot harder to notice Loop's similarities. Doesn't mean that those similarities don't sting more in this context though.

If you do NoHats without LoopLoops. The concept of this all fading into memory years down the line while they just have slightly-glowy but otherwise regular Siffrin hanging out is fucked up to think about. Just like real grief. Augh

6. a peek into the original dms as a treat from us

#LONG POST....!#be free our ideas. go forth into the wild. and by that i mean neither of us are fic writers so please HUNT US FOR SPORT #isat spoilers #looploops au #nohats au #isat au #isat loop #isat act 6 spoilers #not giving it more tags than that since feels rude to tag the rest of the party lol #lucabytetalks #but yes! to be extra clear: nohats is a 'please play in the space' invitation. because neither of us are big fanwork people! um!#it feels a little bit neglectful of us to not make more stuff for this AU ourselves but... we aren't practiced at that kind of thing. so.#open invitation! we know we won't make anything MASSIVE with this so.. don't hold your breath. and feel free to take the reigns.#we aren't like. the arbiters of 'sif fuckin dies' aus in general obviously but if you want to play with our specific ideas please do!#think of this post like prompts if you want to. go nuts #and @ a certain someone who said in the tags theyd maybe write something inspired. kisses you so sweetly. thank u for even considering it #also hi kaun i was thinking about your little snippet when typing 'act 6 encounter goes horribly wrong' 👋

42 notes · View notes

licorice-lips · 3 days

Text

Okay, so I was thinking about Snape and although I'm avoiding like hell speaking online about Harry Potter, I think it needs to be said because it falls onto the rest of fantastical literature as well, especially those stories that have parallels to fascism/nazism/colonialism in their magical world.

I'd like to start by saying I don't like Snape for a variety of reasons, some of them because of Rowling, others because of the character himself, and others because of his fans, but today I'd like to talk about how Snape's Redemption Arc actually sucks and why, and also about how we're treating redemption arcs as a whole.

Okay, so let's begin by making a sort of timeline on Snape's life: he grew up in an abusive household, suffered bullying by the Marauders through school years, bullied other students as well, called his best friend a slur, "apologized", joined a fascist hate group that actively persecuted and hurt people for things they had no control of, acted on behalf of this group for years, turned against the hate group not out of morals but because their actions began to threaten the people he cared about (like they always said they would, how shocking), bullied his teenage students as a grown adult, acted as a spy against the hate group when it came back, died.

Right, so before I dive into all those things, what we also have to add is that Art isn't made in a vacuum. Just like science can never be done by a completely neutral party, our productions of art are completely based off of our views, especially when we're talking about writing. As a writer myself, I can see exactly how my experiences as a person in the context I was born and grew up in affect my writing and my production of art.

For example, it's very common that I find enemies calling themselves by their last names in American/European fiction but in Brasil, we don't normally call people by their last names unless it's very unique and as a nickname. So when I write enemies, they always call each other by their first names, simply because it doesn't feel right to me any other way. On a more serious example, most of the countries in my fantasy books have some history of colonization or dictatorship because it's a part of my history and I feel it's impacts to this day, so it's something that reflects my own thoughts and ideas in politics.

So when we talk about Snape as a character, we cannot escape the fact that Rowling created him. And as a European author, it's more than clear —and that's especially obvious to people who suffer under colonization to this day— that Rowling has a deeply ingrained colonizer mentality. The goblins in Gringots are a clear and problematic representation of Jewish people, the domestic elves LIKING being enslaved and not changing the status quo by the end of the books, and even Hermione being ridiculed for her militancy on it — these are all representative of how Rowling views the world.

Although there's more, all of those examples make it clear that, when she looks at fascist ideology as a whole, Rowling doesn't think the ideology itself is the problem: the ending is the depiction of them getting rid of the "bad apples" instead of making the "roots of the tree" healthy again is parallel to blaming bad individuals for a system that is corrupted and therefore corrupts. So basically, what the Harry Potter books tell us by the end is that it's okay for you to perpetuate a racist system, just don't do it so openly. The problem for her is not the system, but these people she considers "bad apples" which is basically right-wing ideology.

And my problem with Snape starts here: because Rowling sees purist views as an acceptable way of thinking as long as you don't kill people because of it (because for some reason that's a step too far — but when the system oppresses, beat down, and hates on marginalized people, that's okay) — in her mind and in her writing, Snape's ideological affiliation earlier on in his life is not that big of a problem, especially when he "changes sides".

Snape's active participation in a hate group is dangerously and irresponsibly downplayed both by Rowling and by Snape's apologists and fans when this is, in reality, one of the two greatest offenses his character has to compensate for in his "Redemption Arc". So when he hesitates at nine yo to say to Lily that being a Muggleborn doesn't make a difference (even when he knows it does in a practical sense of what's happening in the Wizarding World), when he despises Petuney for being a Muggle, when he says to Lily that what he, Mulciber and their "death eaters" friends did to Mary McDonald was "just a laugh (btw, I'm sure the Marauders also think what they did was "just a laugh" as well), all of this is not only extremely reprehensible, it's the kind of thing that makes a fascist, a fascist.

And it's not that I don't believe teenagers cannot change their minds and grow with more ease than adults, it's just that this alone would've been enough grounds to understand why Snape's redemption arc sucks. His beliefs from early on, even before he goes to Hogwarts, are extremely problematic and hateful, and they uphold the very corrupted system that is perpetuated against Muggle-borns in the Wizarding World.

Then we reach the point I wanted to make: it's very clear throughout the books that child and teenager Snape struggles with feelings of deep hatred against his parents (especially his father, who's a Muggle), inadequacy in social life even among his peers (wizards and witches) and isolation, all of which make a person undeniably vulnerable to extremist ideology.

And here's my first issue with Snape and his Redemption Arc: his trauma and feelings should not be an excuse for his bad choices and yet, they are used exactly as such. Yes, Snape was an impressionable teenager and yes, he was influenced by an ideology in his desperation to fit in and find solace in a community, but that doesn't matter.

None of it matters because, at the end of the day, his actions for this ideology are just as harmful, just as awful, just as cruel, as the actions of someone who joined the Death Eaters for thoroughly believing Muggleborns were scum. He harmed people just as much as Yaxley, Mulciber, or any other Death Eater who joined Voldemort for their hatred just for his support alone.

And more than that, even if Snape was in a vulnerable state and impressionable, he was still receiving other kinds of influences, influences that were contrary to the bigotry and cruelty of Voldemort — and he still chose to ignore those influences. There was still a level of choice to what he became as a young adult.

But even if there wasn't, Snape is —or at least he should be— responsible for his own choices regardless of influence. As they say in the Kingdom of Heaven film, when you're before God and he asks you why you did something, you won't be able to say that others told you to do so or that it wasn't convenient to do the right thing — it'll not be enough. And it's not enough because your actions matter more than your intentions. Your actions will be the thing that will determine what happens next, not your intentions. It'll be actions that will shape your path and influence or directly impact the path of others around you, not your intentions.

The older I get, the more I understand the power of action and how it says more than any intention or feeling ever will. At the end of it, Snape's actions are what matters, not his feelings or intentions. But as humans, we're so prone to empathize with others that we actually believe that, because someone feels guilty or regrets the things they did, that's enough to forgive them.

We forget that it's not.

Earning forgiveness must come with 5 major steps —

Accountability — do they acknowledge the way their actions hurt us? Do they acknowledge the way they hurt us? Do they acknowledge their role in our pain?

Apologies — do they apologize? Is their apology sincere? Do they hold themselves accountable in their apologies?

Acceptance — do they feel entitled to forgiveness? Do they accept the consequences of their actions? Do they accept the boundaries you impose on the path to forgiveness?

Amends — Did they take steps to mend what's broken? Do they make choices to prevent them from doing this again? Do they try to help without crossing your boundaries?

Alteration — Did they change the behavior that hurt you? Did they take steps to improve themselves?

Those steps are fundamental in a Redemption Arc because it'll exemplify to the (young) readers what is forgivable and how forgiveness is earned, not deserved. That's what grits me the most about Snape's "Redemption Arc":

There is no accountability, at least not for joining and upholding a hate group, and we kinda get accountability for what he did in his friendship with Lily, but in a fucked up way, let's see:

It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. “I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here.” “I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just – ” “Slipped out?” There was no pity in Lily’s voice. “It’s too late. I’ve made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends – you see, you don’t even deny it! You don’t even deny that’s what you’re all aiming to be! You can’t wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?” He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. “I can’t pretend anymore. You’ve chosen your way, I’ve chosen mine.” “No – listen, I didn’t mean – ” “ – to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?”

It's very important to me that we dissect this piece of dialog because it shows a lot about Snape and how every time he's tried to apologize, there's no accountability.

He didn't say he's sorry he said that slur (to LILY and only Lily, might I add, when at all would've been ideal but I'll have some leniency because of the situation) — he's said he's sorry, but not for what he has done, just for Lily. He didn't take responsibility for his words as he should — he says it 'slipped out' or that 'he didn't mean, again just to LIly.

He accepted no boundaries Lily tried to impose — sleeping outside Gryffindor? Really?

Most importantly of all, he took absolutely ZERO steps to alter his behavior so that he could never harm someone again like he harmed Lily. And that's very important, I cannot begin to explain how: when we regret doing something, the most fundamental step to take in change.

Change is fundamental to forgiveness but it shouldn't be conditioned by it. If we regret doing something harmful, the first thing to do is to change our behavior. Instead, Snape not only doesn't change his problematic behavior, he doubles down on it, joining the hate group Lily pointed out as one of the main problems in why their relationship couldn't continue, acting in the name of said group for years and only backing down on it when Lily is threatened.

And that reveals something about Snape's worldview: for him, since that day he called Lily a slur, the problem wasn't that he was a bigoted piece of shit (like Lily said it was), the problem, in his head, was that he hurt Lily. And that's not true. The problem is, one hundred percent, his bigoted behavior, and Lily says as much, more than one time. He just does not listen to it. He doesn't listen to her.

More than that, though, you can try to point out that he redeems himself by acting against Voldemort but I'm sorry: what Snape did is not enough. He was part — and believed in — a hate group, it's not enough that he changes sides not because of values, but because one person who is being threatened is dear to him (which was the whole prerogative anyway so I failed to see how he's even surprised by this). You can say that this is good or honorable or "love" but it's not cute to base your entire life around one person.

It's not honorable to prioritize one person over a whole world he was threatening before and not caring at all about them. Disregarding other human beings in favor of one is not as pretty as people think it is and Snape represents this very well: it makes you bitter, it makes you become abusive, cruel, a bully to everyone else. It's not pretty, it's not understandable. Be a fucking decent human being, it's actually not that hard.

But I digress again: my point is, that just because Snape regrets the things he has done for Voldemort (not even out of morals, which drives me mad) it doesn't mean he deserves forgiveness. He doesn't and he hasn't earned it, he didn't even try. Actually, he's so stuck in his regret, he's harmful because of it: guilt is a trap, babes. It sucks you in if you let it and makes you miserable as well as anyone around you. You'll be so remorseful and yet you'll hurt people because of it.

And it's the same thing I've been saying since the beginning: we need to stop associating feelings with deserving forgiveness because you don't deserve forgiveness, you earn it. Either you earn it from someone else, from yourself, or from both, but either way, it's earned, not deserved. If I were to excuse my harmful behavior every time just because I regretted doing something instead of earning their forgiveness by taking steps to apologize to the people I've hurt, I would be compared to my father all the time. And THAT would've been an insult.

Anyway, let's just stop feeling sorry for characters, especially fascists, just because they regret something. Please, let us hold our characters accountable for the shit they've done adequately and make our writers actually put in the work to make them earn the forgiveness they crave instead of just wallowing in their own misery, stuck forever in a vortex of hurting and being hurt that sucks people in. It's not a good example for us readers, it's not a good example of behavior, it's not what a good person who did shitty things should strive to be and we shouldn't think it is.

31 notes · View notes

katerina-marie · 18 hours

Text

The Hot Mic Incident (Feel Like Falling in Love)

Sukuna x Reader

A sequel to this and part 2 of a larger (unnamed) series. I do recommend reading part 1 first to be able to understand certain references in this one.

If someone asked you who was most likely to accidentally spill the beans about your new (and still secret) relationship with Sukuna, your answer would have to be your white-haired co-star. But when an unintentional hot mic reveals to the world what wasn't ready to be shared, let's just say it wasn't Gojo Satoru at fault for once.

Notes: A continuation of my Sukuna x Reader celebrity!au inspired by music (though only loosely, so don't look too closely at lyrical meaning). In this case, it's Feel Like Falling in Love by MeloMance. I'm writing this series as inspiration strikes, so these fics may not always be posted according to the series' linear timeline. I will make sure to note when each chapter takes place in relation to the others (this one takes place a couple months after part 2). I will also get around to making a master list of them in chronological reading order as more comes. I hope you enjoy:)

Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo, other favorites who have small supporting rolls, all fluff, crack, and humor, innuendos, illusions to sexting, but no actual sexting occurs (sorry), so please read accordingly, out of character and fluffy Sukuna. Please let me know if I miss something!

WC: 4.3k

——————————————————————————————————————————

“Isn’t it a little early in the morning to be sending naughty pictures to your boyfriend? It’s like 7:00 am.”

You jumped half a foot in the air and clambered to juggle your phone in your hands before it tumbled out and slid four feet across the backstage floor of the talk show studio.

“You need to be wearing a bell, Satoru,” you hissed over your shoulder at the menace that had appeared behind you so suddenly, “and it was not an inappropriate photo. I was completely dressed.”

You teetered over in your heels to grab your phone off the floor and prayed that it wasn’t cracked down the middle, lest you make Satoru cough up punitive damages to make up for it.

“In my experience, being fully clothed is not a prohibiting factor.”

Satoru snickered at the look of disgust on your face and gave you a small shrug, “Who knows, maybe Sukuna’s into th—,”

You threw yourself forward to try and cover his mouth with your hands, but even in heels you still lacked the necessary height to make contact. You settled for pinning him in place with a glare.

“Will you keep quiet please? I swear, if you and your fat mouth reveal this to anyone, I’m going to have Toji leak that photo of you from one of our nights working on that period piece last year!”

You watched with glee as Satoru’s eyes widened in abject horror, and he reached out to grip the tops of your arms and drag you close to his face. A quick peek from your peripheral confirmed that the staff lingering around the studio probably hadn’t been close enough to hear, but they were certainly watching with poorly disguised interest.

Were you and Satoru contracted into a false relationship in order to help promote the upcoming movie the two of you were co-starring in? No, that only happened in fiction. Was it firmly implied by the producer that some offscreen tension and chemistry during the course of the film would promise to be advantageous to you both? Yes, and you presumed that in the pursuit of a paycheck some simple flirting couldn’t hurt anyone…though that was a year or so ago, and you were now closer to sending Satoru to an early grave than jumping in bed with him like fans and media were hoping for.

“Suguru swore he made you delete any evidence of that!”

You stuck your tongue out at him and pulled back against the hold he had on your arms, but he didn’t loosen his grip in the slightest.

“He did, but didn’t bother to check with Toji. Looks like that weird phobia you two have of him is coming to bite you in the ass now.”

Satoru released you with a shiver and took a large step back, his eyes roaming the expanse of the studio as if he expected your bodyguard to be summoned out of thin air at the sheer mention of his name. You didn’t blame him, however, because Toji had a habit of doing just that.

“It’s not a weird phobia,” Satoru muttered, rubbing his throat absentmindedly and pouting down at you, “it’s PTSD.”

You snorted. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was too!” Satoru cried, “He punched me in the throat and nearly sent Suguru through a wall!”

“You and your idiot manager were trying to break into my house at 2:00am, drunk as skunks I might add! What did you think was going to happen? We barely knew each other then.”

Satoru looked down at you aghast, stunned that you didn’t sympathize with his emotions. You considered it even more bewildering that he seriously thought that you would pick his side. You were about to let him know such when your phone dinged twice in quick succession, effectively capturing your attention.

“Look,” you huffed at him, waving your phone in front of his face so he could catch a glimpse of the time (and hopefully ignore who’s name had popped up under it), “we only have like thirty more minutes before we have to get out there and I need some time to decompress, so I’m going back to the dressing room.” You started to turn away before throwing over your shoulder, “Don’t get into any trouble in the meantime.”

Satoru rolled his eyes at you, and—in that intolerable way of his—couldn’t let you possibly have the last dig at him and jerked his head to the phone in your hand.

“It’s not me I’m worried about. Have fun sext—,”

“Goodbye, Satoru!” You made yourself scarce before he could say anything else, eager to find the privacy of your dressing room so you could fawn over your boyfriend in peace.

By the time you made it into the safety of your dressing room a few minutes later, your heart was pounding—and not just from getting lost in all the maze-like hallways—and you tried to decide if hiding in the attached closet to talk with Sukuna on the phone or sitting on the couch in the open with a lovesick grin on your face would look less suspicious should someone walk in. Neither option promised much.

Before you could make up your mind, your phone was ringing, so in order to be able to answer the call as quickly as you could, you dove for the couch and tried not to sound completely breathless when you answered with a quiet, “hi, good morning.”

“Hey,” Sukuna replied back to you, voice equally soft but tinged with a dry hoarseness that usually followed him out of sleep. It made your toes wiggle uncontrollably against the floor.

“Oh I’m sorry, did I wake you with the picture? That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to keep you up to date with my day,” you murmured to him.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t. And besides, even if it did, it’s not a bad way to start my day.” His words made you melt back into the cushions and you kicked your feet in silent giddiness before tucking them underneath you. “You look stunning, by the way.”

“Thank you,” you giggled, “though getting here to get ready while it was still dark outside was borderline torture. I’d say that it’s an unfair slight against women, but I’m pretty sure Satoru’s hair and skincare routine took just as long.”

Your boyfriend let out a disgusted scoff at the mention of your costar’s name, “Please tell me that q-tip is behaving himself.”

“Sukuna!” You chastised, though you couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up in your throat at the comparison, “You can’t call him that…even if it is somewhat accurate.”

“It’s one hundred percent accurate,” he argued, “but I won’t call him that to his face…probably.”

You shook your head in exasperated amusement, nibbling on the bottom skin of your lip before continuing on, “He’s behaving for the most part, aside from his two insinuations that our conversations this morning were of a sexual nature.”

Sukuna was silent on the other end for a moment before replying back in a low voice with something that had you choking on your spit, “Would you like them to be?”

He could be heard laughing as you nearly coughed your way into a premature death.

“I’m about to go in front of a live audience and on live tv!” You exclaimed.

“That’s not a ‘no’,” Sukuna pointed out hopefully.

“No.”

He let out a dramatic sigh and you reached over to a nearby coffee table to unscrew a bottle of water and chug half of it down in the hopes it would help cool you off.

“Speaking of,” he said, sounding just a tad hesitant, “I’ll uh, tune in to the show to watch if that’s okay with you.”

You heart skipped a silly little beat at the idea that he wanted to watch some cheesy talk show just to get a glimpse of you.

“I don’t mind,” you told him, “but it’s going to make me a little nervous knowing you’ll be watching as I stumble through this interview.”

“Don’t be,” he chuckled, though something in his voice sounded just slightly wicked, “now you’ll get an idea of how I feel when I have to perform.”

The innuendo had whatever sweet reassurance you had poised at the tip of your tongue fly out of your head, and you scrambled to come with a response that could be said back without implying anything further. The swinging open of your door, however, saved you from the task.

“Hey, Princess,” Toji called as he leaned his torso around the door, “you need to be out there in five.”

You startled from your spot on the couch, surprised to realize that your leg was bouncing from where it was propped up on your knee and your finger was twirling a piece of your hair.

Love made you stupid.

“Toji,” you snapped, “have you ever heard of knocking?”

Your bodyguard rolled his eyes, “I did. Twice.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, especially because you could hear Sukuna cackling through the phone, confirming he heard what Toji just said.

“Oh…I’ll be right there, okay?” You shooed him off with a flick of your fingers and Toji smirked at you as he began closing the door.

“Don’t be late or I’m sending Gojo in to fetch you.”

The door closed shut before you could get a word in and you leaned back with a heavy sigh before returning your attention to your phone call, “I’ve to go. I’ll call you when the whole thing is over and I’m back home, yeah?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll be waiting for you. Good luck, okay?”

You weren’t sure if it was all in your head, but you swore you heard a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“Thank you. Bye, Sukuna,”

“Bye, Princess,” he sing-songed, and you couldn’t help but smile as you clicked off the call.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Twenty minutes later found you and Satoru sitting next to each other on a platform stage surrounded by bright lights, a large live audience sprawled in front of you, and an all too perceptive interviewer who had started the interrogation just a couple minutes prior. You wiggled in your seat, uncomfortable from the various wires and clips that secured your mic to your back under your dress.

“So,” she began, nailing you with a look that promised nothing good, “you and Satoru were supposed to film an advert on the beach early this last summer, but it ended up being you and the so-called ‘King of Curses.’ Tell me, how did that come about?”

You hesitated a moment, thankful the question wasn’t anything too invasive, but you were still hoping to avoid talking about Sukuna altogether. Usually Nanami would heavily emphasize what could and couldn’t be spoken of before these appearances, but since he wasn’t here, you assumed it had been left to Geto. In that case, you knew he couldn’t be bothered since predicting whatever was going to come out of Satoru’s mouth during these things was an art not yet mastered.

“Well,” you started, clasping your hands together so they didn’t shake, “it really just came about out of well-timed convenience and a favor to the director. We didn’t want to waste any of the crew’s time or have to worry about re-aligning schedules, so Sukuna saved the day by offering to help. Plus, ‘The Curses’ new song at the time got to debut in it, so it was a win-win for everyone! Except for maybe Satoru, of course.”

In an effort to divert attention from your answer, you threw Satoru a faux-friendly smile and urged him with a widening of your eyes to explain his part.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, adjusting himself in the seat and setting a convincing pout on his face. “I just happened to get pulled into something personal last minute and was going to be late to the shoot. I’m appreciative that the “King of Curses” was able to step in and save the day.”

You didn’t miss the obvious sarcasm dripping from Sukuna’s nickname when it came out of Satoru’s mouth, and you had to hide a giggle behind your hand at the thought of your boyfriend cursing at his TV at home.

“But,” Satoru continued, jolting you into awareness when he turned to you and ran a long finger down the bare skin of your arm, “I’m super bummed I missed our chance to get wet together.” The smirk on his face was downright evil, and you just knew your face was a picture of stunned disbelief. The audience was tittering with amusement.

“You wear me out, Satoru,” you hissed at him, batting his hand away from where it still traced slowly over your skin.

Satoru laughed and threw his head back against his chair before taking a quick look at the camera and then leaning in towards you until your noses nearly touched, “I’m flattered you’d admit that on live television.”

Your jaw, and everyone else’s for that matter, fell to the floor and you could only gawk at him. Over the interviewer’s shoulder, you could see Toji backstage laughing his ass off as Geto stood at a respectable distance next to him shaking his head.

We better get those damned bonuses from the producer.

“Well!” The interviewer laughed a bit nervously, breaking the tension in the room and turning to the main camera in front of you all, “That was surely something. We have to go to a commercial, but we’ll be back with these two in just a couple minutes!”

The outro music sounded over the speakers and you and Satoru were released from your chairs to scurry backstage. In between sending friendly waves to the audience and starting the walk backstage, you flipped the switch on your mic off.

“I’m going to kill you, Satoru,” you spat under your breath as the two of you left stage.

The idiot had the gall to laugh, and in your frustration you took a couple large steps to get a head of him. And because the universe didn’t hate you enough, you felt the toe of your heel catch on a stray cable on the floor, pitching you off balance. In your flailing, you reached out to grasp at whatever object could possibly break your fall, and in doing so latched on to Satoru’s sleeve, jerking the poor bastard off his feet and onto you as you both tumbled to floor in a heap of tangled limbs.

Your back hit the ground first, your mic digging painfully into your back with a suspicious crack of plastic followed by Satoru landing on your front, pushing all the air from your lungs with a painful “oomph.”

You stared at the ceiling of the studio, wondering how quickly things would go if one of the giant studio lights fell from above and crushed you under it. You were never going to live this down, especially since it happened still in view of the cameras and the audience if the raucous laughter was anything to go by.

“You know, I never imagined I would actually get you under me,” Satoru mused, staring down at you for a second before lifting his giant self off and then pulling you up to follow. He held a hand against your lower back as the two of you made it to the cover of backstage.

“Honestly,” you admitted, still a little dazed, “I never would have thought so either.”

Staff fluttered around you a minute later, offering water, smoothing your hair out, and ensuring neither of you were hurt…at least not physically. Your pride was a whole other matter.

“Oh no,” you groaned, catching Satoru’s attention once everyone had cleared out around you, “he was watching. He just saw me eat it on live television.”

Your co-star cocked a confused eyebrow at you, “You mean Sukuna was watching?”

“Oh please,” you muttered, “like you didn’t guess. And yes, Sukuna was watching, and now I’m not going to be able to look him in the eye this evening.”

There was a general increased noise coming from the front of the studio, but you were too preoccupied with your own embarrassment to think much of it.

“And why is that?” Satoru asked.

You threw your hands up purely because you didn’t know what else to do with them, “I don’t really know exactly, but there is still something supremely humiliating about doing something embarrassing like that in front of my new boyfriend. He makes me nervous enough as is.”

There was a sudden outbreak of hollers and clapping from out front, and you swung your head around to look and see if anyone had a clue as to what was going on. It took you a minute before you could see Toji running at you with a wild look on his face.

“Toji, what the hell—?” You didn’t get to finish your question before he was spinning you around by the shoulders, yanking down the zipper of your dress, and ripping the mic from your back. You shrieked in disbelief as you whirled back around to figure out what in the world he had been thinking.

“Toji!”

“Your mic has been on this whole time,” he growled, showing you the blinking green light on the cracked plastic box. You swore you had turned it off, but seeing as how it took the brunt of the impact when you fell on it earlier, you supposed it wasn’t unlikely that it had turned back on.

With sudden cold rushing through your body and a sick ball of dread settling into your gut, you looked between Satoru’s dumbfounded expression and Toji’s face of pure exhaustion and immediately decided that if the ground wasn’t going to swallow you up whole, you were going home.

“Get me out of here!”

——————————————————————————————————————————

After finally making it to some undisclosed back alley across from the talk show studio, you were assisted out from your crouch in a trash bin by studio security and ushered to a small nearby out-cove to wait for your bodyguard.

And you just wanted to be famous soooo bad. Glamorous life, my ass.

As luck would have it, you were made aware today of just how famous you, and especially Sukuna, were. For all the grief you gave Satoru about not accidentally spilling the beans about your newly minted—and still secret—relationship with Sukuna, you were the one that had the unintended pleasure of doing the grand reveal. So now the world was free to stir whatever frenzy they saw fit, from the intensely devoted fangirls of Sukuna’s band, to the entire acting community, and the worst of all…your mother. You suspected you were a couple minutes away from an angry phone call demanding an explanation as to why she had to find out from the internet that you were dating a boy with pink hair and face tattoos and how much longer it would be until she had grandchildren.

All of this chaos and Nanami just happened to be in a whole other country.

You suddenly regretted sending him on that vacation.

A sharp squeal of tires caught your attention and you looked up to see a shiny sports car peal around the corner and come to a rumbling stop a couple feet in front of you. Before you could even begin to guess who it could be, the head of your bodyguard appeared as the tinted black window of the passenger side door rolled down.

“Get in the car,” Toji hissed, eyes darting to and fro.

You wasted no time and nearly dove through the open window in your haste to escape broad daylight. You had just finished buckling your seatbelt in the back when Toji mashed the gas pedal and the car leapt forward.

“Christ, Toji!” You gasped, clasping the headrest of the seat you were just flung into, “Whose car is this? It’s certainly not yours.”

He snorted. “Yeah, cause you don’t pay me enough.”

“Rude,” you muttered back to him, “and not true.”

You tried to squint out the front windshield to determine where you might be, but brick buildings towered on either side of you still, and you assumed Toji was taking some alternative route home. “Seriously though, whose car is this? It’s not one of mine.”

“Does it matter?”

You rolled your eyes at his bored tone, “Yes, it does. Toji, I’m not your wife, but—”

“Thank God.” He sounded entirely too relieved about that.

“Still rude!” You yelped, but brushed aside the sting of offense to figure out whose leather seats your dress was currently dropping glitter all over. “I’m not your wife, so I don’t particularly care to know what unscrupulous activities you get up to when I’m not keeping you busy—,”

“None,” he deadpanned, shooting you a glare through the rear view mirror.

“—which I’m pretty sure I had you sign a non-compete, but that’s besides the point. I really need you to tell me where you got this car. In case you aren’t aware, my name is going to be plastered on every social media post, blog page, and headline in the next 24 hours and I’d rather that not include my mugshot with “accomplice to grand theft auto” under it. So tell me who this car belongs to right now or I’m jumping out.”

Toji had the audacity to chuckle at you before reaching back to pat your knee.

“Relax a bit. You know I wouldn’t ever put you in harm’s way on purpose. This is Gojo’s car. Ours was being swarmed by the media out front after your little slip up, so I threatened Geto for the idiot’s keys cause I knew it was out back and the quickest way I could get to our little rendezvous point.”

“Oh,” was all you managed to get out. Letting your racing mind settle down a bit, you snuggled deeper into the plush leather seats and kicked your feet up onto the center console. You got two seconds of peace before Toji opened his mouth again.

“I’m going to have to call Nanami.”

“No!” You gasped, springing upright again and feeling a warm sting creep to your eyes as your throat began to tense up. “He’s on vacation! I promised we wouldn’t bother him unless one of us was dying. I’d never forgive myself if he had to come home to clean up my sloppy love life!”

Toji shook his head and shot you a sad smile over his shoulder as he reached for his phone sitting in the front cup holder.

“We may not really have an option, Sweetheart. Not only is Uraume going to be a huge pain to deal with since this could affect Sukuna’s band, but you’ve also got contracts and appearances promised that may get shaken by the fact it’s been revealed to the world that you've been secretly dating the music industry’s favorite ‘hate to love’ rockstar. We can’t fix this without Nanami.”

The panic that had been brewing in your stomach this whole time was starting to make your head spin up, so you blamed it on that when you lurched out of your seat and nearly over Toji’s shoulder to snatch the phone out of his hand before he could hit ‘dial’ on Nanami’s contact.

Your bodyguard swore when you knocked him in the face with your elbow in your clamber and his hand gave a vicious jerk of the wheel that had horns blaring from either side of your car as Toji swerved to correct it. You were thrown back into the seat you had just previously been in and you waited with heaving breaths as the car jolted sideways once more before continuing on straight. The fact you barely missed crashing was a testament to Toji’s reflexes.

“Don’t you ever do stupid shit like that again, you hear me?!” You’d never heard Toji raise his voice at you and it did nothing to help quell the tears about to start pouring from your eyes, “I know you’re stressed and something big has just happened to you, I get it, but that’s no excuse to do something dumb! You just about gave me a heart attack,” he finished, his voice still at a higher volume than normal, but it was softened by the edge of panicked concern and the worried glances he was giving you.

That was enough to push you over the edge.

“I-I’m sorry, Toji,” you sobbed, upset at yourself for messing up again, “I wasn’t thinking, and I don’t want Nanami to feel like he has to babysit me for the rest of his life, or you to think I’m an airhead or something. I also really like Sukuna and I don’t want him to hate me because of what I did!”

You let your head fall into your hands and hiccuped through another shuddering cry as you struggled to get ahold of the overwhelming-ness of it all. You felt Toji’s hand on your knee again.

“Hey, hey, take deep breaths for me. No one’s thinking that, I promise you. And I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. It was wrong. It’s no excuse, but that scared the crap out of me and I thought we for sure were getting into an accident,” he admitted. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You nodded through your tears, unable to respond to him in any way that was legible.

“Look, we’re almost home. Try and deep breathe for me. Once we get there I’ll help you get comfortable and we’ll figure this out together, okay?”

As was frequent with Toji, you valued his ability to keep you calm when you got into the worst of yourself and you were grateful for his steady confidence. You reached out and clasped the hand he still had stretched back on your knee to give it a squeeze, hoping it could convey all the thanks you had for him. The two of you kept driving in comfortable silence until you felt the car slow and saw a flash of a familiar gate out the front windshield.

“Hey,” Toji started, his voice suspiciously light, “you think Gojo would realize if we never returned his car?”

——————————————————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! I've got ideas for parts 3 and 4 already, so I'm hoping to work on those in the next coming days.

I'll also be posting this series on AO3 under Katerina_Mar if you would prefer to read there:)

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #toji fushiguro #gojo satoru

39 notes · View notes

lovemyromance · 18 hours

Text

I'm going to say this once, and I am not going to voice this again because the fact that it even has to be said, is absolutely crazy.

Nothing in ACOSF has shown us that Gwyn is ready for a relationship. She can't even leave the library at the end of ACOSF to attend Nessian's mating ceremony. She is probably now even more traumatized after the BR, and rightfully so.

Could she one day be in a relationship with a male/female? Sure. But that time is not now, right after ACOSF.

Right now, she is NOT ready for a relationship with anyone (including Azriel).

Do not get me wrong. If there had been ANY sign she had shown interest romantically in any character - I would not be saying this. But she has not shown that for anyone, let alone for Azriel.

Gwyn is going to eventually heal. But she does not need a man to do so. She does not need to play sidekick to Azriel and help him handle his so called "darkness" to heal.

Y'all can't just force her into a ship when she's clearly not ready for a relationship. Well, I suppose you can, but that would be disrespectful to SA victims everywhere.

Fictional character or not, SA trauma is real. Forcing this timeline of healing on Gwyn or shipping her with someone just so she can "fix him" or suit his "sexual freak" nature is just downright ignorant.

If y'all like Gwynriel because you think the aesthetic is cute or you think they'd compliment each other - that is fine. But this dialogue of Gwyn is gonna fix him and she and Azriel HAVE to be together because some half-baked statement from Azriel's POV - it's so weird.

Stop shipping women with people they have shown no interest in. Same goes for people shipping Elain with Lucien, when she loses her boldness around him and shrinks into herself.

Literally the moment SJM shows Gwyn is ready and likes Azriel or Elain suddenly gives Lucien the time of day out of her own free will, I will fully accept and understand the other ships.

But for now, I am shipping the couple that has actually shown desire and attraction and affection for each other. Just my opinion, and I'm not entertaining any arguments on this.

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #acotar #elain x azriel #pro elain #elain #antielucien #antigwynriel

34 notes · View notes

2n2n · 3 days

Note

So things are very changed now, so I was wondering, do you think it's possible for things to magically go back to the way they were before like Hanako-kun going back to being the 7 mystery and Tsukasa being his yorishiro? Or will this reality simply never exist again? So this means this could be tbhk's last arc, but it feels like there are still so many questions left unanswered 😢

I think you, and, other people panicking, really need to stop and take a breather, and remember how... stories work. How narratives operate.

even a mediocre and poorly planned shounen manga would typically not suddenly pivot in the middle and retcon everything! Do you think JSHK appears poorly-planned or made-up-on-the-spot? PERSONALLY, in my experience with AidaIro's works, they have a TON of integrity with regard to story themes and character motivations. Iro-sensei really, REALLY desires for readers to come to UNDERSTAND characters. Iro-sensei was a sobbing mess on the publication of JSHK, because they were scared people would not LIKE it, and thus, they would not get to continue to unfold the story. They LIKE their characters a LOT! They want you to UNDERSTAND Yugi Amane, Yugi Tsukasa, Yashiro Nene, etc etc!! Deeply, and truly!

While a lot of shounen are filled with nonsense-of-the-week and neverending organizations of dozens of villains showing up without connection or significance, I would argue that JSHK has none of that. We've been on the same exact journey from the very beginning: we want to understand Yugi Amane, and we want to save him.. .whatever that means.

You need to lean back in your chair and let AidaIro-sensei whisk you away! You need to trust that it will take time, but, that there are answers in AidaIro-sensei's notebooks to everything.

No, the story isn't ending right now! No, that reality is not gone!

To me, this kind of panic is like....

if Picture Perfect began, and you worried, "oh no, Hanako-kun is our villain now, we're fighting him, will he ever be our hero again?" or "oh no, we're stuck in a fake reality... will we ever go back to the real world?"

Or, if during the Severance, you worried, "oh no, the near and far shore have been severed, will we never get in-school shenanigans ever again?" "oh no, Aoi is dead for good..."

In reality, this arc-- like every arc-- is going to be a way for you and I to see new angles on the characters we love.

We already knew Yugi Amane created an aberrant future, and we were intrigued by the notion of school teacher Amane from the 'original' timeline. Finally, we are going to SEE that timeline. If we DIDN'T do this, we'd feel something was missing! Everyone has long been curious about THIS reality! We've been desperate, haven't we?? We've been wishing to understand this thing described in VOLUME 3. This isn't scary at all, it's satisfying!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We're finally here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To have a fully rounded perspective on the Yugi twins, we need to see this world. For Nene-chan to truly understand HER Amane, she needs to grasp WHAT EXACTLY AMANE DID to CREATE the reality she has been in up until now. We're literally going to investigate the EXACT MOMENT that leads to "Hanako-kun", our lover lol. Until we know that, do we really know "Hanako-kun" at all?

Personally, I want Nene-chan to be INVOLVED in the CREATION of that reality we love. I want to know what role Tsukasa plays in all of it, too.

The reality we have been in was someone's choice! We won't understand the gravity and precision of that choice without seeing it FIRSTHAND. This is not a SCARY event, this is a RELIEVING event-- we will gain perspective!! Nobody should be afraid of that, seriously!

This is what we, the readers, want! And this is how AidaIro-sensei want to show it to us. Very directly!!

We're all very curious about the shinjuu, the Yugi twin's past. What if we could go to that moment, and SEE it? What if Nene-chan could witness it? What if she could set it into motion? These are the kinds of things to be potentially looking forward to.

The manga is called "Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun". We would never do away with "Hanako-kun". That's self-evident!

#avvy's JSHK

26 notes · View notes

cringefail-clown · 8 hours

Note

in that aspect post you mentioned what's the deal with sollux at this point and unfortunately I understand this so here the explanation I guess if you want.

pre-retcon sollux is full alive full blind because his half ghost got pulled into erisolsprite. he's the one with the double eyepatches and he's in collide so he's fine after the retcon, but didn't fight LE. pretty sure this is the sollux in post-canon stuff.

post-retcon sollux is half ghost half blind because erisolsprite doesn't exist in that timeline. he has the black and white eyes still. in collide he's in the ghost army so probably didn't make it.

(the post in question) gods sollux and his duality shtick will make my head explode one day istg but!! he IS fully alive from what youve said, though also fully blind, so it supports the theory that to create a new world sburb needs a living player of each aspect, doesnt exactly have to be from one universe and doesnt have to be godtiered (which we already knew from the beta trolls session, since they created og earth even with only some of them being godtier), you only need a person representing the aspect so the session can be viable for the ultimate reward

#homestuck #homestuck meta #sollux captor #ask

26 notes · View notes

devilevlls · 2 days

Note

hello cool writer. can I humbly request a sfw but very very angst (if possible) Barbatos fic with this?

-"This could either save us or ruin everything."

has too much hurt/no comfort potentional lol. sorry if its too specific but maybe bad ending for mc? :)

Hello!! Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy 💚

This could either save us or ruin everything⭑.ᐟ´-

Gender-Neutral MC༘ ⋆｡˚

They couldn't help but admire Barbatos—his form, his presence, everything about him made their heart ache with longing. Perhaps they were lovesick, they mused, their gaze lingering on the majestic demon as he moved with effortless grace.

But they knew it was almost impossible to be by his side. Barbatos was someone so powerful, so meaningful, while they were just a mere human, transient and insignificant in comparison.

For a fleeting moment, they allowed their mind to speak out loud, the words tumbling forth with a vulnerability they couldn't suppress.

"Barbatos," they whispered, their voice barely a breath against the weight of uncertainty that hung in the air. "Do you ever wish things could be different? That we could defy fate and carve out our own path together?"

They waited, holding their breath as if afraid of the answer, knowing that the truth could either shatter their fragile hope or breathe new life into their wildest dreams. “No, I wouldn’t change a thing. Why do you ask, MC?” He speaks calmly.

"I wish we had a timeline where we could end up together. Life is so cruel," MC murmured, their gaze fixed on the swirling depths of their tea, as if seeking solace in its dark embrace.

"Soulmates are destined to meet, not be together, my darling," Barbatos replied, his voice tinged with a melancholy that mirrored MC's own. With a gentle smile, he poured another cup of tea, his tail swaying in a silent rhythm of understanding.

"But… what if we could escape? To another reality?" MC's voice trembled with desperation, their fingers tracing the delicate patterns of the teacup in search of answers that eluded them.

"This could either save us or ruin everything. Timelines aren't clear and definitive, they are blurry, risky, and things could change with the smallest of details," Barbatos explained, his gaze meeting MC's with a depth of understanding that spoke of lifetimes spent in quiet contemplation. He moved to sit beside them, offering a sense of comfort that transcended the boundaries of time and space.

"Please, drink it. I made it especially for you," Barbatos said softly, his hand resting on MC's, a silent promise woven into the fabric of their shared sorrow. He didn’t seem bothered. Maybe that’s what being completely powerful meant. There was no logic for an immortal being like him to worry about such thing, so useless, so… meaningless.

And as they sipped their tea together, the bitter taste of inevitability mingled with the sweet warmth of companionship, reminding them that even in a world where soulmates were destined to part, the bond they shared would endure, a beacon of light in the endless expanse of time.

Drabble prompts you can use in your requests!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me one master to rule them all #evllsposts #obey me drabble #obey me writing #obey me nightbringer #obey me scenarios #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me angst #obey me swd #obey me writings #obey me x reader #evllsasks

35 notes · View notes

yuri-is-online · 16 hours

Note

What are your ideas on Yutu’s Unique Magic?

Maybe Riddle!Yutu having a countering UM to his father, or Cater!Yutu having one that allows him to see the true in people, etc, etc…

Also, what if Yutu has a sister/brother back in his OG timeline? Did he bring them with or they just got left behind?

for context, check these posts (1) (2) or look at the Fyuuture kid section under series on my masterlist.

oof I have a lot. Unique magic strikes me as something that is supposed to be reflective of who the mage is as a person as well as the Disney character/concept the boy is based on. Since Yutu is not based on anyone really, we are more free with inspiration for his unique magic, with two exceptions. Idia and Kalim both have lines suggesting that their unique magics are passed down in their family's, though I imagine the incantation is different to each person; it makes sense for their Yutu's to have Gate to the Underworld and Oasis Maker respectively.

Before I really get into the weeds, I do like the idea of Yutu having (a) sibling(s) in the OG timeline, again because that can happen in Fire Emblem Awakening but also because it adds to the angst somewhat. As for whether or not he would bring them back in time, the answer to that is yes. Yutu has a few friends he traveled back in time with that are scattered around Twisted Wonderland with no way to contact each other, and if he had a sibling (with the exception of Malleus! Yutu whose sister is a bit... special) then they would be among that group. If you want some extra angst we can steal even more from FE: Awakening and make it so Yutu's sibling died before he arrived, maybe they turned into a blot monster that follows Grim's overblotted form as a replacement for his hench human.

We could even make it so Yutu's sibling doesn't have any magic, just like Yuu. You know. For the parallels ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Riddle! Yutu

Riddle! Yutu having a magic that counters his dad is such a good concept, especially for someone who initially hates him. There are two types of magic that we have seen counter Off With Your Head: Trey's Doodle Suit and a strong shielding spell used by Leona. I can think of a few directions to take this line of thinking, so let's start with the most grounded.

A strong shielding spell, one that can be applied to multiple people, sounds like a spell that thematically fits Yutu. We don't know a lot about how these spells function, but they're important for combat magic and shielding multiple people seems to be implied to be difficult. Let's say in this case it's natural for Yutu and essentially the same for him as shielding himself. This sort of spell feels like it should have a card themed name, Big Blind maybe? It's a term that refers to the minimum bet required to continue a poker game if I understand what I read correctly. The only card game I know how to play is yugioh

The less grounded approach could be a sort of spell that creates an anti magic field… it's a concept I did toy around with mostly because I was thinking about more Alice in Wonderland themed names for a unique magic, and thought up “Everything is Nonsense” or something along those lines. My one sort of caveat to this concept is that I think a spell like this would be heavily stigmatized, probably cause a lot of blot build up for a caster, and I'm uncertain of how it would work mechanically. Well that and I have an idea for a different Yutu who this spell would fit a bit better... but that would require me to cook with a different type of fire.

I did mention in my post about Riddle! Yutu that I liked the idea of his unique magic allowing him to shrink or grow because of Rule 42 in Alice Adventure's in Wonderland saying all people more than a mile high must be rejected from court. If Riddle is the Queen of Hearts, well then any time they argue all Yutu has to do is grow and then he won't be allowed to yell at him any more so there. As a side note do you think this logic could apply to the Chimera in the Prologue? Because I could see that being darkly funny if it comes up in game in that context.

Cater! Yutu

I had a really well thought out idea about Cater being able to see a limited amount into the future before I realized that I was describing the sharingan from Naruto so fuck me I guess.

So just hear me out, you know in twst battles you can see at least one of spells the enemy is going to use? That's sort of what I thought Yuu's unique magic would be if they had it, but I also like the idea of it being Cater! Yutu's. It would function more like an instinct than an actual vision (*clenches fist* just like naruto) but he can use his magic to tell what a person intends to do before they fully think it. Cater is skilled at divination so a unique magic that lets his kid see a little bit of the future feels like it could work for him.

Speaking of divination, I sort of also like the idea of Cater! Yutu having a magic that has something to do with stars and starlight. Maybe he can turn into a void like being made of cosmic energy, similar to how Cater's Split Card is symbolic of his many faces, Yutu's void form could be symbolic of how he feels displaced in the world.

Ace! Yutu

We don't know what Ace's unique magic is (yet) but there are a lot of theories. Time travel, something that steals another person's spell, something related to optical illusions?

I think it would be fun if Ace! Yutu could do something with reflections/mirrors. As in he can reach through mirror and attack, similar to how Hanged Man works in JoJo. The further the distance the more magic it takes, it can also work with things like water but that takes a lot more magic too.

Either that or he's able to travel between mirrors on his own without the dark mirror. That might be a much more difficult thing to do though...

Jade! Yutu

I have a very clear idea for what I wanted to do with Jade! Yutu's magic, but it's a bit complicated to explain because I'm not a physicist.

The basic idea was that Yutu is able to exert magical force on an object, so long as he knows it's exact dimensions and what it is made of. I called it "Crush the Heart" because I wanted both his and Floyd's Yutus to have magic to follow their dad's naming theme. To activate it he has to be looking at where the object should be and picture it in his mind, the more precise the crush the more concentration, control, and magic it takes.

The name could in theory be quite literal, but Yutu isn't quite there yet in his knowledge of biology or magical control.

Floyd! Yutu

Like I said, I want the twin's Yutu's to have a name that is similar to their dad's. Floyd's Bind the Heart uses Kanji that literally translates to "coiling tail"... which I guess is more similar to the magic I gave Jade! Yutu than the "gnawing teeth" that Shock the Heart does, but that magic is supposed to be something that requires calm collected control, which Floyd and his son simply do not have. Still, lets play off that and give Floyd! Yutu a magic that has something to do with shocks and teeth.

I think Floyd! Yutu should have a taunt. Floyd already loves the idea of a good fight, his son is really good at combat magic, and they both talk so much shit that the idea of that literally being his unique magic just sort of works.

Functionally the spell would work similarly to Jamil's, where the person has to look him in the eyes for it to work. The name of the spell could be something like "Reveal the Heart" but that does sound sort of stupid to me so I'm not sold on it. The spell makes a person unable to focus on anyone other than Yutu and wares off after a certain amount of time, it can fail in fashion similar to Riddle's if the enemy mage has a protection spell up.

Azul! Yutu

Another Yutu who I know exactly what I wanted to do with, I got the idea while playing Darkest Dungeon of all things. I feel like it's a bit lame though.

Azul! Yutu can create phantom limbs out of cosmic magic. When he is in octopus form those limbs take the form of human arms, and when in human form they take the form of tentacles. He says when asked that what he is doing is manipulating shadows because he likes to keep people on their toes (or fins take your pick) and he finds it very funny to watch people squirm when they realize there really is no escaping his grasp.

It is a very difficult magic to use, he needs physical strength to use those limbs because they are only as strong as his real ones, so he works out and a lot to make sure he doesn't hurt himself while using it.

Ruggie! Yutu

Laugh With Me is a perfect magic for a hyena to have, and it suits Ruggie's personality really well. Actually... I did write that his Yutu shares his laugh and I think it would be so painfully cute if that extended to his Unique Magic too. Ruggie makes a big deal about how he's kind of a crappy mage, how he has to do a lot of extra work to make up for his low mana pool and poor upbringing. Can you imagine how embarrassed, proud, and awed he would be if his son inherited his spell? That's something only great mages are supposed to have, not little guys like him. Good thing neither Yuu or Yutu care about that huh?

Vil! Yutu

I haven't done a post about Vil! Yutu really beyond this bit about him bonding with Vil, but I did mention what I think his unique magic would be.

I can't find it but I read a myth once about a painter who drew animals with a magic paintbrush that would bring them to life if he gave them two eyes, so he only ever gave them one. I thought it would be neat to have a spell like that and it feels like something that would fit Yutu Schoenheit very well. His magic allows him to create temporary familiars similar to Lilia's bats, bigger creatures take more magic and focus.

I wrote the name for this spell as "Technicolor Dream" since I thought it would be nice for the name of Yutu's magic to nod towards his father's job and his dreams about having his family back.

I have a lot more Yutu's chilling in my inbox, so I'll revisit this topic (lilia! yutu has a whole ask about his um that I really like) once we are done with round 2 of Yutu posting.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au

18 notes · View notes