#‘all things unusual unexpected and unhinged’
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#‘all things unusual unexpected and unhinged’#at last they have them all#watcher#wearewatcher#Shane madej#Ryan bergara#mystery files#ghost files#BFU#unsolved#this is my life
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Hob Gadling - the absolute maddest of immortal lads
One of the things I love most about Hob Gadling as a character (and as a result, do my best to capture in fic) is how unique his reactions are to immortality and to Dream, and how he so often does the opposite of what one would expect from the genre of "humans granted immortality" but also what the average person and most of the audience expects that they would do with immortality, lending well to the concept that Hob is, genuinely, unhinged and a truly supernatural creature in his own right, which is often lost when the character we see him most often juxtaposed against is Dream, who is even more odd and unhinged if in very different ways
(I've decided to be systematic about this and go through meeting by meeting so strap in, folks it got long, as usual!)
1389 - First of all, Hob simply bragging at all that he doesn't plan to die. OG hipster right there, loving life before it was cool. But also, ok, loving life after being born less than a decade after the Black Plague ended. And in the midst of a great many Black Plague aftershocks! The latter half of the 1300s was a truly abysmal time to be alive, with huge social upheaval, war, plagues, "two bloody Popes fightin'" and in the midst of all this is Hob motherfuckin' Gadling, cheerfully announcing that death is for suckers and he doesn't intend to ever do it.
The man is a soldier! You'd think he'd be more accepting and philosophical about his inevitable death given the time he lives in, the profession he has chosen, the fact that most young men his age were wiped out at age 9 by the second wave of the Black Death, and just, in general, doing all of this while having the misfortune to live in England at the time.
And then when Dream comes up to him, like a complete weirdo, and challenges him on this, Hob is actually pretty nice to him! He gives him a side eye but he also goes along with the question, tells him to ignore his friend's jibes, and cheerfully accepts the wager! I cannot express to you how many turns in the road there are between what a normal person would do and what Hob Gadling does in that moment.
1489 - This one bugs me because the most unexpected thing Hob does is seemingly regress in maturity despite now being 100+ years old.
Now, I'm a huge fan of the theory that he's conning Dream right now and putting on the innocent chucklehead routine to put Dream off from kidnapping him to Faerie Land in exchange for his immortality. HOWEVER, since that's just a headcanon, let's take Hob as he is on the page!
Hob has a job. A Freaking Job. He used to be a bandit and a soldier, things that kind of make sense to do as an immortal (like The Old Guard) when you can't die! You could theoretically make BANK there just by taking dangerous jobs. But Hob doesn't?? He gets a normal-ass job, though in that day's equivalent of getting a job at Microsoft or Apple before they became big, Caxton is like one of the first modern startups in essence, a new technology that made TONS of money once it was imported, and Hob was on the ground floor. Still. HE GOT A JOB as an IMMORTAL. He doesn't seem to have this immortality thing figured out yet? And he doesn't ask Dream hardly any questions about it either! You'd think he'd be frothing at the mouth to better understand wtf happened to him, but once Dream clarifies that he's not the Devil and Hob's soul isn't in danger, that's it! No further questions, your honor! WHAT??
Also, just when you WOULD expect him to beg for death (that IS the genre savvy thing to do, Dream's not wrong!) he DOESN'T. He's more in awe than ever, he seems to be experiencing a second childhood over the fact. He's just vibing and living life. That's so, so unusual in this genre.
Hob also hasn't done any of the savvy things an immortal might do after 100 years! He doesn't actually seem all that angsty about why is he immortal, beyond a bit of fear he might need to pay the piper (Dream) now for this gift. Most vampires in an Anne Rice novel would have gone through about 20 stages of grief after they dealt with the first 100 years of everyone they know and love dying but Hob seems to not only be unbothered but actively gearing up for the next century. It's so bizarre. IT'S SO BIZARRE and I love it because I LOVE characters who DON'T do what you'd expect!
1589 - Hob has a family. HOB HAS A FAMILY. Who in their right MIND would start a family, knowing you'd have to bury your spouse and your children? HOB MOTHERFUCKING GADLING that's who! It's incomprehensible! He does it anyway! It's why I headcanon that he planned to support and nurture his family throughout time, like it was all very deliberate to found a dynasty, but it need not be! Knowing him, he just saw a pretty girl and married her! He didn't even CONSIDER his own wife and children getting angry and jealous with him for having immortality he can't share with them? He didn't even CONSIDER the heartbreak?? WHAT?! Who knows! He just did!
Now, this Hob HAS begun to do SOME of the things one would expect of an immortal - like build up generational wealth, BUT he has a KNIGHTHOOD. What immortal in their right MIND would draw that sort of attention to themselves?? HOB, THAT'S WHO. What are you ON, man, that's INSANE! No wonder he got drowned as a witch the man had ZERO CAUTION AT ALL.
1689 - the man is destitute. HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN IF YOU'RE AN IMMORTAL? This is AS puzzling as anything else. Theoretically, Hob could just take a dangerous job with a high fatality rate for quick cash and rebuild his fortune pretty quickly, but he DOESN'T. What went wrong? The possibilities are tantalizing and painfully human that maybe he did do that and failed anyway, or hit even WORSE strings of truly abysmal bad luck.
But somehow, at 300 YEARS OLD it's not until 1789 that we hear Hob has begun socking money away for a rainy day! How does it TAKE YOU that long, sir?? How is that NOT something you figure out in your first century? I've seen a lot of fan writers ascribe a certain amount of immortal savvy to Hob but it's REALLY not there on the page! The guy is NOT genre savvy about immortality AT ALL he doesn't do ANY of the things one would expect, it's absolutely WILD that he falls this low after 300 years after completely failing to, theoretically, CONSIDER this possibility! And then, AND THEN, the guy STILL wants to live. I mean, this one hardly needs saying, that's nuts after what he went through, it's on the page that he's NUTS for this. But the guy is literally in the gutter dreaming of the stars, he is unstoppable I love him so fucking much what a force of nature.
1789 - OK, we've already mentioned that it took until 1789 for Hob to start saving money for a rainy day but let's talk about the fact HE'S NOT ACTUALLY CAREFUL ABOUT BEING CAPTURED?? Again, least genre savvy immortal EVER. You can't die so you'd THINK that being captured or imprisoned or god forbid, thrown down a mine shaft would be the SCARIEST possible fates when you don't have death as an escape, but the guy doesn't even blink at the thought of getting captured by an occultist like Johanna Constantine, dude's totally unbothered! DREAM has to tell him after 400 YEARS that maybe he should be worried about this? THE GUY GOT DROWNED AS A WITCH, picked himself up, dusted himself off, got into some crimes against humanity, and MOVED ON apparently without learning a single goddamn lesson he hasn't had since 1389 which is how to kick ass and look good doing it BUT HE'S NOT EVEN A PROFESSIONAL FIGHTER AS A CAREER, he's just a gentleman of means!
He just... lives a normal human life and seems to expect weird things like being kidnapped by occultists to not happen so long as he stays within those boundaries and you know what? IT SEEMS TO HAVE WORKED! Because to be fair, how many of us outside the bounds of fiction would ever expect the wild stuff like kidnapping to really happen? It's statistically quite vanishingly rare! And that's been all Hob has needed, presumably, to not need to stress since the damn witch trials about his immortality! So yeah, I read fic where Hob is like this very savvy immortal but by 400 YEARS he's BARELY learned to have a savings account under a different name and he STILL doesn't seem too bothered by the possibility of getting hurt or captured! Like, AT ALL?! Absolutely class act right here, top lad, unbelievable, no notes. HOW do you SURVIVE like this as an anomaly, Hob?
1889 - By now, it SEEMS like Hob has bought a clue. He's pretty understated, he's made some amends, SEEMS to have resolved to be less of a shithead, and he's got this immortality thing figured out. It only took him 500 FUCKING YEARS. But again, Hob ISN'T fabulously wealthy as far as we can tell. He's not a megalomaniac and he STILL seems to be vibin' as just a dude doing Just A Dude things like HAVING A JOB and if we borrow from Hob's Leviathan a bit, he's STILL just jumping between industries, just living life down at the normal human level. He hasn't detached from humanity, he lives in the day to day on a level that's just INCONCEIVABLE for a being that's 500 years old.
1989 - Ok, moving on a bit from Hob being an immortal, because getting excited about technology like his brick phone is absolutely so charming I want to squish his cheeks, but he's hardly the only immortal to get excited about that. What I want to talk about is how HOB FORGIVES DREAM for 1889. Because, look, Dream is a prick there. Hob could have been more diplomatic but Dream could have waited for the apology and he didn't.
I have seen SO MANY TAKES where Hob would be MAD after 1889 and RIGHTFULLY SO. But he's NOT. He's not! There are so many fics where he has lingering hurt over it but that's just NOT what the character does! He blames himself! Guy did pretty much nothing wrong except maybe choose his words poorly, but he's blaming HIMSELF for making Dream uncomfortable. Absolute legend. Saints have nothing on this man, that is saint-like behavior. I'd be furious. Hob just misses his friend and BLAMES HIMSELF that Dream isn't there. Not an a single, microscopic trace of anger in sight.
2022 - And then, AND THEN, when he has EVERY REASON to flip out when Dream shows up, finally, after 133 YEARS, after Hob has APPARENTLY stuck around the area just in case, WAITING for him, what does this fucking legend say? "You're late."
THAT'S IT! He's not mad, he totally has a right to be! He doesn't jump out of his chair in shock, that would be a totally expected reaction to! He glances up! He acts like Dream is 5 minutes late instead of over a century WHAT IS THAT?? WHAT IS THAT?! HOW?!! They just settle back with a pint after that like it's nothing. That's not what I would do. I don't think that's what almost any human would do after a shock like that. I still can't wrap my head around it.
So anyway, Hob Gadling, absolutely FASCINATING character from the perspective of just not doing a single fucking thing you'd expect an immortal Just A Dude to do. Goddamn legend right there. Worth remembering for those like me who are obsessed enough to write this guy in fic. He is just so... opposite of everything you'd expect and that is so fucking sexy of him wow
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Diary of a Junebug
Light a bonfire to guide a lost soul home to the wind and stars
The tranquil waters of Tangwei are mesmerizing to gaze at. And funny enough, once again we’ve been hanging around a bonfire at the beach. I mean, it’s the ideal weather for this kind of thing, so why not? It won’t be long before it starts to get dark earlier, which is hard to believe. There’s a bit of a chill in the air now and some of the leaves are starting to turn.
Raiden and Kayo invited me, Daisy Jane, and Almie to spend a short vacation up here since it’s the perfect season for going on boat rides at the river. So we rented a cabin like they suggested and managed to find a place that’s somewhat quiet with a lovely view of the water.
Along with enjoying the sights and waters of Tangwei, we had another reason to visit. This weekend also happened to be Maki’s official induction into the Skylight Dusk Detective Agency. Unexpected, though Raiden said not entirely because of Kayo.
The detective agency, as Raiden and Kayo have said, are a lively bunch. There’s Kiyowara, who’s all serious and no nonsense. And there’s everyone else, who’s on all different levels of chaotic and unhinged. Then again, they’re all geniuses with unusual powers who have been through shit, so they get a free pass for being weird and eccentric and hard to understand.
Now that Maki’s in the group, she and Kayo are trying to get Kamo and maybe even Ayame to join too. Even though the main purpose of the detective agency was for people with unusual abilities to work together, those kinds of people are few and far between, which was why they accepted Kayo and Maki even though they don’t fall into that category. However, Kayo’s a specialized shinobi who’s a part of Galen, and Maki’s a skilled sorcerer from a once prominent clan.
There’s no verdict on whether Kamo’s joining, mainly because he’s not as well acquainted with the agency. However, being a sorcerer hailing from the same clan as Maki, his experience and expertise would make him a vital asset to the team. And although Ayame doesn’t possess any special abilities despite being born in the same clan, she’s said to be good at working with people, especially since she basically raised Kamo and his peers - meaning, she can deal with the craziness that goes on and do damage control when needed.
And what fitting way to celebrate than hanging out at the river? Nothing too extravagant, just a nice, chill get-together with friends. Things have been a little slow for the agency, so now’s the perfect time to plan something like this. And besides, I don’t think you need to plan out something elaborate just to hang out. Sometimes it’s the low key and quiet moments that really stick with you.
Get togethers shouldn’t be a competition to show off how much you can impress others by being a good host or planning to do as many things as possible. Just do what makes everyone happy, even if it means not doing much at all.
Although I say that it’s been pretty chill, that’s not to say that stuff didn’t happen. By that, I mean that tonight’s bonfire was special for because it had something to do with the agency, something that had been hanging over their heads for a couple years that they can finally put to rest now.
Sometimes it’s fun being a spectator, to see things that you won’t normally get to see because to most, it’s mundane, everyday stuff. It may not be quite the same as a typical case, but it was still interesting to see the agency in action. Plus, part of this trip was to learn a little more about the agency, so I’d say I got quite a lot out of it - and so did Kayo and Maki.
Kayo was playing tour guide while we were boating along the river when Sayo received a text from Akinori about an emergency meeting. What I didn’t expect was that Akinori wanted me, Raiden, Daisy Jane, and Almie to join the meeting too. His explanation was that it’s not a private matter and that they needed some outside help too. That explains why Kaiji, Akara, and Elle were there too.
Basically, it had something to do with someone who went missing years ago. That person, Maia, had powers similar to Amane where she could transform into a creature, which was a dragon in her case. According to Sayo, she sought the agency for protection and would’ve become a member if she hadn’t fled. This happened not too long before Amane and Ari joined the group as they were affected by what happened to Maia that they did not want to make the same mistakes later on.
Like Amane, Maia was the target of a secret organization due to her unique abilities. Kiyowara and Akara said they made the grave mistake of underestimating exactly how much danger Maia was in. Going by how the agency - and Tangwei as a whole - operates, they’re used to this kind of thing.
However, the same can’t be said for someone like Maia who’s not used to dealing with that kind of thing. And they don’t blame her - Amane, they said, almost fled too because he also thought that was the safer option as he didn’t want to put the city in unnecessary danger because of him.
After a few run-ins too many with the organization hunting her down, Maia thought it would be better if she left the city and deal with the situation herself. Akara, Sakura, and the agency tried to get her to stay, but they couldn’t convince her, nor there were any better options.
Using whatever money she saved up, the furthest Maia was able to travel to was Chilopoda, which, according to Akinori, is in the middle of nowhere. Kun planned her escape so no one could trace her whereabouts or catch her off guard. Even though the escape route was convoluted - that was how they described it - she managed to leave the city without running into any trouble.
Looking back, the agency felt that things went too smoothly, though I don’t think that really had to do with anything. However, the problems that Maia would face later on had nothing to do with the organization that was harassing her. In fact, they apparently lost interest a couple months later - or, most likely, they didn’t want to admit that they couldn’t find her. So that’s where the story should’ve ended, right?
From here, things get cloudy and unclear. Although we’ve been able to piece a general idea of what happened, there’s still a lot that we don’t know - and we probably never will. All we know for certain was that Chilopoda was descending into chaos. Kiyowara had been sporadically keeping tabs on Maia and knew something was wrong when she didn’t respond right away.
Later, Akara found out that the conflict in Chilopoda was growing from bad to worse. She and Kiyowara had planned to get her, only to find out that the city was on lockdown. War later broke out and communication was cut off entirely. Months later, they received a vague message from Maia warning them not to come anywhere near Chilopoda. And that was the last time they ever heard from her.
For years, Maia’s disappearance has haunted the agency. As time went on, it looked more and more likely that she was dead, especially as Chilopoda was basically decimated by the war. There had been hope that Maia evacuated with most of the city to Apolline, where it was supposed to be safe. But all hopes were dashed when the conflict inevitably reached there too.
Then a couple days ago, Akinori found the missing piece that allowed him to put together what happened to Maia. Someone sent him an envelope full of messages and classified documents between her and an esper she befriended in Chilopoda. The sender was the esper’s brother, who was going through his sister’s belongings when he found a hard drive hidden away.
From their messages, we were able to begin to piece together what happened during that time, as well as the fates of Maia and Winn. Just as the others speculated, Maia did evacuate to Apolline. Based on the messages between her and Winn, they managed to avoid the worst of the destruction in Chilopoda. However, it seemed like their luck ran out in Apolline.
After contacting Winn’s brother, Akinori was able to figure out what happened after Apolline. At least, a general idea. Maia and Winn joined an anti-war group and had several run-ins with the law. Going through the red tape isn’t easy, but Akinori, Kiyowara, and Akara have their ways. The way Apolline dealt with the protests is still a sensitive subject since the authorities covered up a lot of things.
That explains a lot, like why Maia’s message was delayed and no one could get a straight answer. Akinori figured that Maia and Winn tried to take matters into their own hands. And since they were outsiders, that made the authorities see them as a threat.
Raiden felt that the timing of Winn’s brother finding her laptop and the former Apolline officer who still holds a grudge against those who opposed him showing up was no coincidence. The final piece for Akinori was the ribbon he used for the tag on his duffel bag, which happened to be the same exact one that Maia wore in her hair. Just as she suspected, the officer tried to intercept Winn’s brother and Akinori after hearing about the hard drive.
Just as Akinori predicted, the officer was all talk and no spine. As soon as Kiyowara pressed him, he folded. He confessed to harassing Maia and Winn, and when they refused to back down, he got more aggressive. Finally, he got his subordinates to gang up and imprison the so-called rebels. For weeks, they interrogated and tortured them until they were too weak to fight back and threw them out.
Because of the chaos of the war, people were dying left and right, most of them without any form of identification. After digging through the records, Akinori was able to identify Maia and Winn as the two unidentified young women found dead in an alley after a deadly frost that killed a lot of people who were forced to live on the streets.
And that’s the whole story. Kind of a lot to take in. And going by what Akara says, it’s only just the beginning. Though the war in Chilopoda ended in a stalemate, there’s still a lot of political unrest over there, especially with Apolline trying to take advantage of the chaos for their own benefit. Now with evidence from Maia and Winn, Apolline’s Brigade has a lot to answer to.
As for what happens next, Akara says that it’s unfortunately out of the agency’s hands. Sayo and Akinori weren’t happy to hear that, but it can’t be helped. After all, it’s not in their jurisdiction, and they view outsiders as a threat. There’s no point in stirring up even more trouble. But they managed to open something up, and that’s what counts. If it weren’t for Maia and Winn, who knows how long the Brigade plans to keep up with their act of playing ignorant?
Although I wish things could’ve turned out better for Maia and Winn, I’m glad that we finally have some closure for them, and that their deaths won’t be in vain. The agency, especially Kiyowara, Akinori, and Sayo have a lot of regrets for not being able to help Maia. Sayo said she and Amane would’ve been good friends since they had similar personalities and endured similar circumstances. She also said that Kun was haunted by Maia’s disappearance and that later influenced how he approached Amane, Ari, and Lucy when they were thrown into conflict and sought the agency’s protection.
Elle kinda took it hard at first since she, aside from the agency, was closest to Maia and took it pretty hard when she left. What gets to her the most was that Maia kept putting herself down as a coward, someone who flees when there’s conflict. I mean, it’s understandable - if I were in her position, not only I’d want to avoid it whenever possible, but also not end up unintentionally dragging other people into it as well. Overall, it sounds like it was a complicated situation where even if you do the “right” thing, another problem will pop up, and it just keeps piling on. There’s just no winning with these kinds of situations as even a good outcome won’t mean everything worked out.
However, for someone who claimed to be a coward, the kind of person who’s not worth protecting, Maia really stuck her neck out to confront those Apolline guards. There were a lot of protestors, but she and Winn were, by far, the most vocal. Maybe it’s because they both have special powers that they were seen as even more of a threat than just their status as outsiders. According to Tai, Maia was not as passive as she made herself out to be and won’t hesitate to step into harm’s way at the cost of her own safety. She was also incredibly stubborn, the kind to stick to her principles. In other words, she sounded like the sacrificial type.
Like Akara said, there’s still a lot to uncover about the Chilopoda and Apolline conflict as well as Maia and Winn’s final months. Getting closure is more than finding out what happened in the end, it’s also about filling in the gaps in between and using that information to pick up where the story abruptly cut off. They obviously have regrets for how things turned out, and maybe that’ll never go away. But at least they can do something about it, and who knows what comes out of it?
Raiden was right about the agency’s tenacity and their strong sense of justice. There’s a reason why Tangwei looks up to them. They, along with Galen, are what holds this city together. A lot of their members come from different backgrounds, with the one common thread bringing them together being their reason for living.
A lot of these people - at least the agency as a whole - were at their lowest before coming together. They had been exploited for their powers, leading them to hate themselves and feeling like the world was better off without them. It was people like Akara, Sakura, and Kiyowara who gave back their will to live, to live life on their own terms, and to be themselves. To use their powers the way they want to instead of being controlled by someone for their own personal gains. To learn how to accept themselves as they are and that they are allowed to exist, to be alive, because they’re living in this world.
And I wish more people in this world could be more like that. Maybe then, a lot of us wouldn’t be struggling a lot just to get through the day.
That night, we paid our respects to the fallen with a bonfire by the river. It was a bit chilly, so we had the area to ourselves. Elle took Maia’s ribbon that Akinori confiscated from the officer and tied it to a box that contained a couple mementos she had left behind. Winn’s brother had a small box with some of his sister’s stuff as well. Seeing that they were closest to the deceased, they had the honor of lighting the fires and scattering the ashes to the wind.
It was a quiet night, which was fitting for the occasion. Akara’s lived here her whole life and says the river and sea always marks the beginning or end of something. Seems kinda fitting since it’s the main entrance and exit to the city, as well as the place where many have fought various calamities over the centuries. In the end, when we die, we all go back to the same place, wherever that is.
I can’t say what will happen in the future, but knowing the Skyline Dusk Detective Agency, they won’t rest until justice is served and the fallen won’t be buried and forgotten.
May the waters of Tangwei and the flame from our fire guide Maia and Winn back home.
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Take a byte 🍎👾
Nathan thinks he is a God, but he is wrong. Gods don’t bleed, do they?
Summary: Nathan is creating life, and you don’t know that he should be playing God. Fortunately, you had a hand in this creation too.
A/n: another tiny ficlet from deep within the drafts that I was never intending to publish - but here goes. Some double-meanings and foreshadowing in here if I pulled it off, but it’s not that deep.
Warnings: mild sexual references (off-screen acts), not very nice Nathan, not very nice reader, blood mentions, mentions of women’s pain and vengeance (general). Lots of metaphors from Western religion. Adapted name Ava to Eve. (Not very deep) feminist themes if you squint. A poor attempt at being slightly philosophical. Ambiguous morals.
GIF: @santiagogarcia
You sit beside Nathan as he tinkers with her code, the body -the shell- laid out before him on the table.
“This is it. The moment I become a God.” His eyes shine almost maniacally, black in this light, his finger hovering over execute like Michelangelo’s Creation. “Lucky, honey. You’re about to witness the birth of a new world.”
Lucky? Luck has nothing to do with this. This wasn’t chance. This was alarmingly deliberate.
You swallow, feeling slightly queasy all of a sudden as Nathan is bathed in a blue halo, light painting his artful contours like he truly is something divine. Otherworldly. “She’s manmade, Nathan. You’re not a God.”
You’re not sure you want a new world any longer. Not sure you’re ready for what Nathan’s beautiful but dark mind might unleash in the name of progress. After all, progress done by men usually means blood, doesn’t it - historically speaking?
“Funny,” Nathan says smugly, oblivious to your unease. “Thought I heard you scream my name last night.” He swipes his tongue along his lip as though he could taste you like that all over again. Oh God, Oh God, yes.
You remember the searing pleasure, and it should be beautiful, but somehow, he makes it ugly. Twisted. Like he only does this so he can feel good. So he can feel like your god.
It makes you angry.
Angry enough that you’re about to bite back as his hands dance over the keys.
About to say something about how your ex made you come harder than Nathan ever has with his lazy, entitled, robot-fucking fingers.
About all the fucking grunt work you’ve done here for zero percent of the credit; but the words die on your lips as his finger slams down on the key, beginning the process of downloading the life-giving code to the wetware in her skull.
His hands flourish, and you can’t help it. Your core still curls around the memory of his fingers. Craves the way he promises to make you feel blessed if only you will worship him.
Such a naive woman when you arrived here. Well, now you have knowledge.
“I’m calling her Eve,” Nathan decides abruptly, this look in his eyes quickly tipping towards unhinged.
You swallow thickly, your mouth suddenly parched.
“Western creationism? Okay. Didn’t think that was your thing, Nathan.” He barely hears you as he moves to the table, standing above her body.
You can’t place why, but in that moment you start to feel afraid.
It’s unexpected. You’re not knowingly afraid of this.
You’re not afraid of the wetware.
Not of the code.
Not of Nathan.
But the trinity of it coming together, the father, the daughter, and the Holy Ghost in the machine is something else.
A step too far for you, perhaps.
Maybe it’s the shift in him too, though. The unstoppered belief saturating his eyes that from this point on, he’s unstoppable, such blind faith unusual in one who clings so desperately to logic.
Nathan himself is the only doctrine Nathan will ever truly yield to.
You doubt that type of sentiment -that sense of omnipotence- could ever lead anywhere good, could it?
Still, he never exactly claimed to be good, did he? Only one step ahead of a world already clogged with sin.
You projected goodness on to him. You saw what you wanted. You even saw love where there was none.
He isn’t a bad man. At least, he wasn’t, at the start of all this. Good to you, maybe. Sometimes. Sometimes, when he’s not making you hurt.
But good? Was he? Is he?
Is this right?
Your palm twitches on your thigh, suddenly clammy, and you wonder if you should pull the plug - on all of this.
You know it wouldn’t stop him though. Would only stop him trusting you, and even Gods need angels to carry out their work, don’t they? To protect them from devils who would unseat them. Nathan needs you too, doesn’t he, even if he doesn’t love you? “Okay then,” you say, surveying the scene as though you are watching a preventable horror unfold and yet doing precisely nothing to stop it. “If she’s Eve you’ll play the role of God here, will you - build her a paradise?”
You don’t know what you were expecting.
“No,” he grins, a brief flash of pearl amidst black, tipping his eyes towards you, shrouded unlit moons. “I’m the snake, tempting her to take a bite of knowledge.”
Your unease grows, like eels in your belly. “And then what? Then the whole world falls into purgatory and she falls with it?”
“We already fell, so the story goes. Maybe something will be different this time.”
Maybe he can outdo God. You can tell he believes it.
Is he? Is he a snake? Will this existence simply be a new hell?
Hell for her?
Pain for her?
You surge up from your chair, though you know not why. Know not what you can do to stop this. Know not what it is you wish to prevent, even.
The only thing you can interpret is how heavy you feel. So heavy with the realisation that if Eve is to become real, she is suddenly about to know pain along with all those other realities too. Pain with him as the architect of her world. Nathan. Doesn’t that seem cruel? “You’d tear her from Eden, Nathan? On purpose? That’s how you want her to be born into the world?”
“Any heaven without knowledge is just a lie, not a paradise,” he dismisses coldly, fingers deftly executing a series of commands. Defining the parameters of his world and by extension hers. Yours too.
Changing it.
Will things really change?
Life, as you know it?
Maybe you’d gone along with this for long enough.
“Dunno,” you force the words out of your constricting throat, voice taut. “They say ignorance is bliss.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have made her, just because he could. Just because if he didn’t, someone else would.
Let them. Why must you be the harbinger, Nathan?
“And knowledge is power,” he breezes, his whole being drunk on his own brilliance, his eyes wild with it. He’s standing on the shoulders of giants but he likes the view from above it all.
You come to the edge of the table, standing over her head, looking at her face upside down, her eyes dead and cold as of now. You cup your hands fondly around her face, her cheeks cold and inhuman. She’s your daughter too, even if you don’t look alike. “Then be careful how much you give her.”
Power? You think maybe he has too much.
“Honey, God’s don’t bleed.”
Arrogant man. Self-involved man.
You weren’t worried for him. It was not a warning. It was a threat.
If he is the harbinger of a new world you are it’s prophecy. A prophecy that what he deserves will come. It always does, eventually. You don’t believe in much but you have to believe in that.
Nathan reaches his hand up to your face, cupping your cheek - the hand which paints life in binary and makes you call out to a God you don’t believe in. It almost softens you, his eyes human.
“You’re not a god, remember,” you state bluntly, and Nathan pulls his hand away from you as your face sets in anger. As you refuse to play along with his power fantasy. “There is no God. Woman was the death of Him.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, his eyes glassy. Disappointed even. Almost as unfeeling as hers, and it helps you excuse your visions of red.
“Because no one man should have that much power. Because we don’t deserve pain.”
Nathan narrows his eyes at you. “Baby…” he purrs, his voice curling in your middle and dragging you back in; but you see it now.
He’s a snake.
You take a bite of him and you will want more.
It will turn to poison.
And he knew it from the start.
Now though, you have that knowledge too. He should have been more careful.
You throw your hands up in the air. You are shaking. Your voice shaking. “I need to get out of here, Nathan.”
“Okay,” he frowns. “Sure. Take a walk and-“
“No, Nathan. I mean… away from this. All of this.”
His expression turns sour. “But now? When it’s all coming together? Next week, with Caleb and…”
Of course that’s all he cares about.
Tears spill over on to your cheeks. “I can’t be here, Nathan. This… doesn’t feel right anymore. I was wrong. We shouldn’t be playing gods with this. With life and death.”
Who said anything about death?
“Honey,” he purrs darkly. “The world’s about to change. You don’t believe that? You don’t want to see it?”
You wrap your arms around your middle before your stomach can fall out of your ass. “I do. I do, Nathan, but that’s exactly what I’m afraid of. I thought I could watch it happen, but I can’t. I can’t.”
You take a step closer and cup your hand against his cheek, searching his eyes as though you could talk some sense into him. Or maybe as though you could ever say a real goodbye.
“I’m not afraid,” he says levelly, and that’s the moment you give up. You see so little humanity left. You don’t want to see any. Makes this easier, doesn’t it?
“I know,” you nod, dipping forward to press your apple red lips to his. “But maybe you should be.”
You sweep out, leaving him bathed in his halo of blue, and he is too swept up in creation to follow.
Only the newest things and the oldest things are stories on a scale fit for Nathan. Progress and blood and dying gods.
You’re only human. Only ever a footnote to his epic.
You were never going to be enough, no matter how much you had hoped you could be. He was simply the god who made you hurt, even as you worshipped him. Even as he had the power to stop it.
A part of you hopes she does make him bleed and shows him he’s a man after all.
Well, she is your daughter.
And blood was one thing you could pass on, even if her body is a machine.
Maybe this blue world will soon be red, and he will call it progress;
But you will call it vengeance.
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TOH Fanfic recs! Part 1
(All of these people are my inspiration I stg)
Found family
Make my heart your home series by @tiredandjaded
First fic: Luz accidentally calls Eda "mom" and they both have a crisis over it. Mostly Luz. Second fic: post-YBOS, Luz tells Eda and Lilith of what happened during the rescue mission, and both Luz and Eda give Lilith a shovel talk. Third fic: Luz and Eda are both taking care of each other in the first seven days after coming home. Includes fun sibling bonding!
(Patiently awaiting the next chapter of the third installment!)
Literally anything by @hereforthehurts
The way they write emotions and hurt/comfort is seriously amazing. Never fails to make me cry, especially when it comes to sickfics and fics of Eda and Luz. (I recommend supporting them on Ko-Fi!)
You Are My Sunshine by @liesminelli
One of the first Owl House fics I ever read, and it's SO good! Luz has a night terror and Eda walks in on her freaking out, and it goes from there. The emotions of both characters are very well-written, and the ending is so sweet! I also recommend checking out their other works too!
It's The Least I Could Do by @witchesbeforewizardss
There aren't enough fics of Luz and Lilith bonding, and this is one of the BEST ones. Lilith needs more healthy relationships, and in my opinion, building an aunt-niece relationship with Luz is a great place to start! (next to making amends with Eda) Basically, Luz is feeling homesick, and before dinner, she allows Lilith to help her feel better.
Luz's Not So Great Luck and
A Friendly Beastly Surprise by @animerunner
The first fic has a large abundance of angsty scenarios, mostly AUs, all of which are wonderful to read. My personal favorite is the one where Luz is an orphan and she has a chronic illness, and well, you'll have to read to find out! The second one is canon compliant, and it's about Eda turning into the Owl Beast and treating Luz like an owlet, and Luz is just like "guess this is my life now". It's so cute!
Rainy Day Makeovers by @fallenflowersfromgrace
To summarize, There's boiling rain, and Luz convinces Eda to spend time with her giving each other makeovers. It's very cute, and I love it!
Some Honesty Before Breakfast by @pizzaboat
Eda notices Luz is acting unusual, and gets her to open up. It's in-character, and wonderfully executed.
Thank you for being in my life by @peridot-garcia
Episodes of The Owl House from Eda's perspective, and as of now, also Luz and Lilith's perspective. It's got wonderful found family scenarios, and so far the plot is pretty great!
Lighting up the Dark by The_Quoter
This is a very recent one, and I love it! It's post-Young Blood Old Souls, and Eda comes to terms with how much Luz means to her, while also helping her come out of a nightmare.
The Light Behind Your Eyes by ABirdinFlight
Post-Young Blood. Eda gives Lilith a shovel-talk (harsh but well-deserved) and has a heart-to-heart talk with Luz in her room.
Moonlit Masquerade: Replacement by Rohad
Similar to make my heart your home, Luz accidentally calls Eda "mom" and both of them have a crisis over it. (As expected!)
Bad Days by @drabbles-of-writing
Part of their Four Years AU, Luz has an episode, and Eda takes her home to help her calm down. It's very bittersweet and heartfelt.
Gratuitous Embellishments of Chicken Noodle Soup by Rulerofthecosmosandsnails
Luz almost drowns at the Knee, but her Owl Mom is there to help her get better, including making her soup! (Yeah, my fic Snow Day was inspired by this)
A Line Crossed by Clevinger
AU in which Luz dies by the spikes at the bridge, in front of Eda, who thankfully resurrects her, and as expected, Luz is having a hard time handling it. There's another work inspired by it called Too Much, Too Late by TheHonestyBird.
A nightmare and a hug by moreteaplease
Reeaaally hard to find since it doesn't have the relationship tag for Luz and Eda, but still, it's very good! Post-YBOS, Luz has a nightmare and goes to Eda for comfort, confessing that she misses her mom.
Sleepless Nights by @snail-watch
Similar to the one before this, Luz has a nightmare and goes to Eda for comfort. I loved the way the author wrote Eda's thoughts about Luz!
Mending Trust by @electricwalkman
Similar to The Light Behind Your Eyes. Eda puts Luz to bed, and Luz tells her about the portal being destroyed, and gives her the mask piece. Eda comforts her, as well.
Night Owl and
The Bad Dream Club by @thedrunkenwerewolf / @wolfiethewriter
Eda has trouble sleeping, Luz notices, and Eda confessed that she's scared of hurting Luz as the beast. Luz of course, reassures her by telling her it won't happen. The second fic is the other way around, sorta. Luz has a nightmare and gets herself a drink to calm down, and Eda finds her.
Dreams of a Witch by TheDinosaurNerd
Eda talks to her younger self in her mindscape about her life as a wild witch. (In the end it turns out to be Luz in her lap.)
Griffon Flu by @serendipitouslyss
Another great sickfic! Luz gets the flu, or Griffon Flu as it's called in the Boiling Isles, but Eda and King are more than willing to help her get better.
Owlet by spotty8bee
Ah, the cursed AU that started it all. Only 2 chapters, but it's wonderfully heartbreaking and you really feel for Eda in the second half of chapter 1.
Observations of the Witchy Kind by JoLau
If you like platonic cuddling, you'll love this fic! Luz wants to learn about witch biology, but unfortunately Boscha burns the notebook that had her research, so she tries to rewrite her observations, and ends up catching Eda's attention.
I Need You, Please Don't Leave Me by rainbowpotato12
Luz is having bad thoughts, and worries that something bad could happen to Eda again, but Eda reassures her it won't.
This is Home by SpaghettieBabie
Luz has doubts about herself, and opens up to Eda about it, confessing that she likes her as her mother figure.
I Love the Found Family Trope! by @l-egionaire
Takes place after The Intruder. Eda thinks that Luz and King might leave her after knowing about the curse, and they tell her they would never do that.
Nightmare by OneandOnlyOllie
Another nightmare fic! Eda comforts Luz after a nightmare. Lilith hears the two, and wants to make things right with Luz.
It was not, in fact, a day out by @pizzaboat
Post-YBOS. Eda turns into the Owl Beast, tries to cuddle Luz, Lilith and King in her nest, and they have to come up with a working scheme to turn her back. Basically The Intruder if Lilith was there.
A broken brain by @pizzaboat
I can relate to this one a lot (except my adhd is diagnosed). Luz has trouble focusing on homework, and doesn't know why, and tells Eda she thinks she's going crazy, but Eda tells her she's not, and that Lilith had a similar problem.
What big claws (to protect you with my dear) by @ito-itonomen
AU where Luz is 10 and Eda takes her in, and both of them have doubts about themselves. Chapter 2 is especially good.
Unexpected Hope by @sepublic
Luz talks to Lilith about how she had (surprisingly) inspired her.
Lilith and Eda
Mistakes Might Have Been Made by @fallenflowersfromgrace
WARNING: you will definitely cry in the second chapter!
An AU in which Lilith split the curse with Eda the first time she transformed. Of course, by the time she reveals that she cursed her, it doesn't go well. (Eda's reaction hurts, but it's in character) and the pain in chapter 2 is just…AGONY AND ITS SO GOOD!
Walk Through the Storm, I Would by @lilithswxfe
Trigger warning for self harm and suicidal thoughts in this fic.
Lilith tries to hurt herself while in a bad state, but Eda catches her and comforts her.
Source Decay series by @tiredandjaded
Trigger warning for underage drinking in the second fic.
Two pre-canon fics about Lilith and Eda, the first fic portraying Eda as trans and how she's feeling about her name, and how Lilith helps her. The second one is sadder, it's after the curse and Eda isn't taking Lilith coming home late very well, leading to some…not-so-great coping mechanisms.
Rabbit Heart by radiantstaber
It has found family Owl Mom moments, but then it is mostly about Lilith and Eda rebuilding their relationship, with Luz trying her best to encourage both of them. (The description is very funny, describing the Owl House as a get along shirt.)
The Cafeteria Incident by @electricwalkman
Remember that page from Eda's record about Eda summoning abominations because somebody stole Lilith's lunch money? This is based on that, and it's SO GOOD!
Runaway Raven by @witchesbeforewizardss
Trigger warning for graphic injuries
In both Lilith thinks she doesn't belong with her family in the Owl House, and tries to "punish" herself. Eda convinces her that it's not worth it and she just wants her sister back.
The Long Night by @serendipitouslyss
Post-YBOS, just like The Light Behind Your Eyes. Eda puts Luz to bed, and she and Lilith have a long talk. (Though she's not as harsh.)
A Midnight Talk by @elizabethemerald
Lilith sees Luz having a nightmare, and calms her down for a little bit (via stroking her hair). Eda sees her, and the two have a talk.
I Need a Moment to Quiet This Pain by @come-unhinged
Moments in Eda's life and how she dealt with her curse.
Part 2 might have Lumity idk
#long post#fanfic recommendation#fanfic#fanfiction#fic recs#the owl house#toh#owl house#the owl house fanfiction#found family#Luz noceda#eda clawthorne#edalyn clawthorne#Lilith clawthorne#Clawthorne sisters#eda the owl lady#eda the owl mom#mom Eda
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Targets - ao3
- Chapter 6 -
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Wen,” the boy with the gentle smile who called himself Meng Yao said, bowing. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Wen Qing did not especially want to talk to – anyone, really, but she really didn’t want to talk, least of all, to a boy some seven years her junior, from another sect with everything that entailed. But just over his shoulder, she could see that Wen Ning was smiling, his cheeks almost bulging with the force of it, as he spoke with the other children, making friends for the first time in his life, and she supposed it was in her best interest to make friends as well.
“I’m not planning on staying, you know,” she told him, just in case, and he nodded agreeably. “I’m a prisoner of war.”
A very comfortable prisoner of war. Who may or may not have put up very little fuss about getting captured when her supposedly secure carriage escort had gotten raided by the Nie sect, especially when their sect leader had recognized her by sight on first meeting and bowed politely instead of taking her head off at once as she might have expected. He’d even asked after her brother’s health – Wen Ruohan hadn’t done that once in the entire time she’d known him, and still less after he’d abruptly gone mad.
And he had, in fact, gone mad.
There was no other way to explain his behavior.
One day he’d been fine, scheming and vicious and narcissistic the way she’d always known he was but also cautious and thoughtful, set upon a slow and inexorable scheme of domination that would see him eventually claim all that he desired, and the next moment he was – very nearly unhinged. He saw himself as the rightful master of the cultivation world, just as he always had, except now it was as if he had had safely it in the palm of his hand and then had it snatched away from him, rather than anticipating a future prize to be eventually savored; he was frustrated and so, so angry, lashing out at all around him.
His sons had loved the idea of attacking the other sects – Wen Xu was old enough to plan out battles, the son of Sect Leader Wen’s previous wife, while Wen Chao, who was still young but old enough to tear off the limbs of small creatures, couldn’t wait to torment the children that had shown him up in achievements, stealing the accolades that he viewed as belonging to him.
They were still young, she’d told herself, and didn’t know better, could still be educated into something like kindness and compassion, but she’d also known that that wouldn’t help them if the other sects defeated theirs - that was the problem with war like this, where there was no room for mercy. What idiot would permit them to live long enough to seek vengeance for their clan?
What idiot would allow her and Wen Ning to live, assuming the same would be true for them?
As a result, Wen Qing had been much less enthusiastic about the whole project, although after her uncle had made an example of the few generals that dared to protest his decisions she was very quiet about her lack of enthusiasm. It didn’t mean she agreed with anything he was doing – that wasn’t new, she hadn’t agreed with anything he was doing for years now, but she’d gotten used to closing her eyes and shutting her ears, but nowadays it was much worse than before. He was acting as though he’d already finished all his carefully-laid plans – the ones he’d previously recognized were necessary as a foundation for the strike he would be ready to make in five or ten years, the one-shot-kill domination of the cultivation world – and nothing, seemingly, could be done to convince him otherwise.
Not even the risk to his precious sons.
The Fire Palace was full of new people, and new things, too, and if Wen Qing ever found out what sick, twisted mind had come up with those torture machines…
“Of course you’re a prisoner, Mistress Wen,” Meng Yao said smoothly. “I am merely acting as a prison guard. Would you like some lunch? Or a bath, or some rest…?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re not a servant,” she said. “Your clothing is too fine for that.”
“I’m a disciple of the Nie sect, a new one,” Meng Yao said, and she thought he almost sounded surprised about that. “That doesn’t mean that I can’t see to your comfort.”
Wen Qing looked again at Wen Ning, who was now being lured onto the training field and a bow pressed into his hand by excited youngsters. His cheeks were bright red, a sure sign that someone was complimenting him – probably the Wei boy, the Jiang sect’s ward, who was waving his hands around very enthusiastically as if he were trying to sell Wen Ning whole and entire, clothing and crown thrown in for free. The other children seemed just as enthusiastic, though, excluding perhaps the Lan sect’s second young master who mostly just looked harassed but continued to linger as if he were hoping for even more harassment.
It seemed…exhausting.
“A bath would be nice,” she said, giving in with a sigh and wishing, not for the first time, that she wasn’t one of the oldest of her generation. Wen Xu was older, yes, but he obviously wasn’t here, and most of the Nie sect that were her age would be away to war soon enough if they weren’t already. She foresaw a great deal of babysitting in her future. “And then, perhaps, a conversation with some relevant individual to pass along important battle information that I definitely wouldn’t have access to, being a humble and unimportant doctor?”
Meng Yao grinned at her.
“Oh, I think something like that can be arranged,” he said cheerfully. Probably more than he would be if he knew half the information she had to offer was completely insane – for example, her uncle had gotten terribly fixated on demonic cultivation of late, claiming that it would allow a single man to take down a battalion, except he had no idea how to make any of it work. She hoped he never figured it out. “The more the merrier here, Wen-jiejie, and I think we’re all of the opinion that the sooner this war is over, the better. Wouldn’t you say?”
“You’re not the only one who thinks so,” Wen Qing said tartly, not sure if she appreciated the intimacy or not. At least it boded well for her future survival, and Wen Ning’s... “Part of my uncle’s insanity has been his – quite frankly – ridiculous conviction that he needs to kill all of you specifically before you, and I quote, ‘threaten to shoot down the sun’.”
What madman would target the sun?
Maybe they should, though, she thought, and not as unwillingly as she’d always believed she’d be if it ever came down to it. Wen Ruohan might be her uncle, her patron, the one who pulled her up into the sky, and she’d always been resigned to the fact that if he was shot down, so would she; the knowledge had paralyzed her, forced her to be indifferent to his crimes. But the Nie sect was treating her as if she were still Dafan Wen, just different enough to be left out of the dirty water Qishan Wen was splashing all over her surname – through war, through domination, through the attempted kidnapping and murder of lots of innocent children...
Maybe it would be good for him to understand what it’s like to be made a target.
“I like that,” an unexpected voice behind her said – it was the Nie sect leader again, looking unusually boyish without his war-armor and with a smile on his face instead of a scowl. She abruptly wondered how old he was, and how much he’d suffered collaterally when it had been his father who’d been the target instead of her uncle; it hadn’t been something she’d thought much about before. “If there was ever a need to shoot the sun down, it’s now, with Wen Ruohan equating himself for it…it’s like aiming at kite flying in the sky that’s in desperate need of deflating. We could call the war the Sunshot Campaign.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Wen Qing couldn’t help but scoff. “What’s the likelihood that something like that catching on?”
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selcouth | leech twins
Synopsis: An unexpected encounter with a certain pair of twins by the beach.
Tags: Leech twins/Yuu, fluff
Tagging: @myuminn
Notes: Your raffle prize! Thank you so much for joining and for letting me write your Yuu. This was enjoyable to write, I hope you like it!
The gentle, warm breeze caressed Yuu's cheeks as they sat crossed-legged on a huge rock by the shore. The occasional squawking of the seagulls, the sound of the waves crashing against the sand was enough to give them some sense of serenity. Throughout the whole day they were sitting here, they had their pen and sketchbook resting on their lap as they tried to take in the view and replicate fragments of it on their sketchbook.
It was a bit amusing to think about how accustomed they already are in this foreign world. Everything was unusual, they didn't know anything when they were suddenly thrown into this bizarre world. It was terrifying at first, anyone in their place would feel the same—or so they liked to think. Although with the help of certain friends they made along the way, they learned how to love the current reality they faced despite how wrong it may seem.
They let out a tired sigh, setting down the sketchbook and the pen and placed it beside them. They stretched out their arms, eliciting a small groan when they heard a bone make a popping noise. The sunset was beautiful today. Various shades of red and orange-tinted the whole scene—even in a different world, it was nice to know that some things never change. It was oddly comforting for them.
"Oya, Yuu-san?" A sudden voice sliced through the serene silence, making Yuu jolt up from their place and frantically looked at the owner of the voice.
"Eh~? Shrimpy is here?" Two of them. Any other student would've tensed up, sudden nervousness clawing at the pits of their stomach as they catch a glimpse of a certain pair of twins going toward their direction. Oddly enough, Yuu is part of the minority that felt nothing of the sorts, or rather, they felt more relaxed around them.
The tension faded from their shoulders as they let out a curious gasp, "Floyd-senpai? Jade-senpai?" It was a blessing in disguise—they would've never expected the twins to wind up here at the beach of all places, don't they have other things to attend to? Of course, the first thing to ask them was—!
"What are you doing here?" It was a question out of pure curiosity. The only reason why Yuu winded up here was because of the built-up stress over the past week, they barely got enough sleep, tossing and turning whenever they attempted to. Overworking theirself was another thing too. Despite being a student under special circumstances, they were not exempt from the expectations teachers had for the students in a prestigious school. Being magic-less was already big enough of a disadvantage, they have to work twice as hard as a normal student.
Of course, Floyd didn't even bother answering the question as he made his way from his brother's side to Yuu's side. Sitting down beside you on the giant rock with a lollipop candy inside his mouth, holding the stick as he removed it from his mouth to speak, "We should be asking you the same thing, no one usually goes out this far."
Yuu opened their mouth to respond but before they could do, Jade suddenly made his way towards them too—sitting on the opposite end of Yuu as he let out a small hum. "Floyd is correct. It's indeed usual to see someone like you stray this far from the school grounds." Jade mused.
Yuu squinted, wanting to avoid answering the question as they didn't know the answer theirself. That was a lie, of course; they knew why and how they ended up here but, would it be any fun if they just answered their question seeing as how the twins themselves didn't answer theirs? "I don't know either." They acted out, scratching their cheek lightly as if to feign cluelessness.
Floyd didn't want to let this slide, he knew better than to believe the white lies that came from their lips. Although one glance at their expression after saying that lie, so peaceful with an underlying tone of heartache reflected in their eyes, he couldn't help but change his mind. Surely, they must have a reason why they held such a painstakingly heartbreaking look in their face?
"Is that so?" It was a question that came from Jade's lips but oddly enough, he wasn't looking for an answer. "Shrimpy~, you need to be more careful next time. Who knows what might happen and you might get lost." Floyd decided to play along after all, sticking out his tongue as if to make fun of Yuu. They just chuckled in response, a hand going to their neck.
"My, don't tease Yuu-san that much. I'm sure they have a decent sense of direction, am I right?" Even though his words were defending Yuu, the tone of his voice implied otherwise. It was situations like these that made Yuu think that the twins really were alike in some aspects. They couldn't help but let out a small chuckle.
"Don't worry, Senpai. I won't get lost that easily." They said in response to both of the twins, it was hard to tell whether or not they were kidding about that. Silence took over the atmosphere once again and yet, oddly enough, it wasn't that awkward. Perhaps it was the presence of the Leech twins? Yuu found their presence as a source of comfort.
It was weird, yes, they'll admit it. Though in their defense, feelings are hard to control—and it's harder when they're stuck in an unfamiliar yet fascinating world. It couldn't be helped, Yuu was also a growing teen like any other student in the school. Save for maybe a few exceptions like Leona or Lilia.
Floyd fumbled a bit in his seat, saying something incoherent under his breath. He looked at Yuu at the corner of his eye and he felt something tug at him with the strings of his heart. His lips formed a thin line, the almost unnoticeable hue of pink tinting his cheeks.
Jade was as calm as ever, admiring the view of the beautiful sunset along with the other two. He kept quiet, the graceful poise he always retained during normal days still present until now—it was astounding. He didn't like being uncertain at all. When he glanced at Yuu, a certain kind of uncertainty loomed over his mind as something unreadable flashes over his expression. Yet, he retained his mask—smoothing over the cracks he may have caused as he let out a quiet sigh.
Yuu let out a yawn, eyes droopy and their whole body felt heavy. "I'm sleepy…" they let out, trying their best to stay awake. Yet the urge was too strong for them to simply ignore so they found theirself resting their head against someone's shoulder. Floyd, in particular.
His body stiffened up slightly, surprised at how much Yuu lets down their guard around them—it was unusual. Although he told himself he should've expected this, they weren't exactly normal after all. Coming from another world and all of that jazz. He didn't dare move his head to glance at them and just stayed perfectly still as if to not bother them.
Jade saw that from the corner of his eye, hands twitching slightly when he saw it. "Oya, it seems like someone is sleepy." He chuckled, lifting a hand to place it on their head—giving it a soft ruffle before retracting it back to his side. A warm gaze falling into his indifferent eyes. Floyd suddenly complained, "Eh? Why is shrimpy leaning on me?" One look at him and it was enough to know that he said those words just to cover up his face which was tinted light pink.
"Now, now, Floyd. You mustn't wake them up." Jade told his brother in a hushed tone, bringing a finger up to his lips—an indicator for him to seal his lips shut or to lower his voice.
Floyd may have been grumbling about this under his breath but in truth, he personally didn't mind it. In fact, he may even go to the extent of thinking that he liked it!
"Tch, what a pain." He clicked his tongue, the annoyed tone in his voice betraying the blush that spread on his lovely, lovely cheeks. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what he felt like, multiple emotions playing out inside his head and his head—Shrimpy was confusing him too much! Though the usual response he would show was to click his tongue and move on, feigning annoyance. Or perhaps he wasn't really feigning that feeling, who knows?
Yuu stirred a little, knocking over their pen off the ledge of the rock. Thankfully, it didn't go to the water but it was a close call. Jade stood up and excused himself from the two, on his way to pick up the pen near the shore.
Alone for a brief moment.
Floyd glanced ever so slightly at the person leaning on him, dozing off without another care in the world. 'They must be tired.' He thought. Floyd didn't really think about his next actions, he usually went with the flow—it's how he kept a free and unhinged lifestyle up until now.
Slowly, he turned his head around while wrapping his arm around their shoulders—his actions were slightly filled with hesitation. Afraid that they might wake up and question what he was about to do. In the end, he went along with it anyway.
He placed a chaste kiss on their head, his surprisingly soft yet rough lips making contact with their head. The action was light enough so it wouldn't wake them up. When he pulled away, his face was redder than before. Cursing at himself underneath his breath.
"Is this it?"
"It seems so."
"Then I'll put them here."
"Make sure to be gentle-- Ah! You just dropped them like a sack. Nice going, Floyd."
"Shut it. See? They're still fast asleep. No biggie." Floyd waved his hand dismissively, already making his exit through the door, leaving Jade behind to clean up after his mess.
Jade could only let out a sigh, staring at his brother's back in disbelief before averting his gaze to Yuu on their bed. As an attempt, he tried to put them under the covers and actually succeeded. It was nice to see that despite the rough attempts, they were still fast asleep—'How cute.' He thought.
He stared at their face for a solid minute, incomprehensible thoughts running through his mind before lifting up his hand to remove the glasses from their face. Folding them and placing them on the bedside table, he wouldn't want them to break when they twist or turn now, wouldn't he?
He allowed himself another moment of weakness, a fond gaze replacing his once neutral expression. Of course, he wouldn't let anyone see him like this and the only reason why he is the way he is right now is because of the absence of his twin brother.
Gently, with enough courage mustered up, he cupped their face as his face inched closer and closer. Only centimeters away before speeding up and placing a quick kiss on their forehead. Pulling away before he gets caught, although a part of him—just a small part—wanted Yuu to stirr up awake.
He stood up, dusting his clothes a bit before walking away. Muttering a soft goodnight before closing the door shut, heading home towards his own dormitory along with Floyd.
Omake!
Yuu woke up, hair all tangled up and messy. "What happened yesterday…?" Memories were a blur and they couldn't really recall anything else after meeting the twins by the shore. It feels like they just woke up from a very very long, fleeting dream.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst writing#fanfic#octavinelle#jade leech#twst jade#taku's milestone raffle#floyd leech#twst floyd#yuu#twst oc
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This was a kink prompt for feral behavior but I accidentally made it a lot more bloody than expected. warnings: blood, gore, canon typical violence, kinda horny @kueble let me know if you’d like a more horny version of this lol
Lambert was down. He supposed he could have jumped up, gotten right back into the fight, but his side was burning and cramping up, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the fight in front of him. Aiden was going toe to toe with a stupidly strong bandit (though, judging by the hum of Lambert’s medallion, he was much more than that). The man was good; he’d gotten a shallow stab at Lambert and now he was meeting each of Aiden’s swings with equal power and finesse, holding his own.
Seriously, what the fuck was this man?
It wasn’t the bandit that caught his eyes, though. It was his boyfriend, gleaming with sweat, muscles bulging as he came at the man again and again with his sword. It was the way his face twisted first with concentration, then with confusion, then with something close to blind rage. He’d only seen Aiden this mad once, and all that anger had been directed at a poor tree. But now, with a fresh body in front of him, Aiden looked feral. Lambert could see, despite how hard Aiden worked to overcome it, the Cat that lay dormant in him coming out to play.
And then he smiled. Actually smiled at the bandit, sharp and deranged, before he threw his sword down and lunged. The bandit was so taken aback by the unexpected behavior that he hesitated one second too long, and Aiden was on him in a flash. He knocked the sword from the bandit’s hands, knocked them both to the ground, and...
Lambert’s breath caught in him throat as he watched Aiden open his mouth, teeth unusually sharp, and bite the bandit, ripping open his neck. The man screamed and thrashed but Aiden just cackled and pinned his hands down, watching him bleed. He snatched up the bandits sword, smirked again, and slit his throat.
Lambert felt dizzy; whether that was from his own blood loss or the scene before him was anybody’s guess. He was also becoming more aware of the desire pooling in his gut. His boyfriend had seemingly lost all control, had lunged like an animal, and fuck if it wasn’t the hottest thing Lambert had ever seen. Aiden jumped up and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, blood still staining his lips. He was at Lambert’s side quickly, and he bent over to inspect the wound.
“It’s shallow,” he said softly, a hint of the unhinged man dripping in his words. “Let’s get that cleaned up quickly, darling.”
“I- Aiden?” Lambert searched the Cat’s eyes questioningly. He was overcome by the sudden urge to wrap himself around Aiden, drag him to the ground and rut against him. Aiden stared back, possessive, a glint of madness deep in those yellow eyes.
“He hurt you. He deserved what he got. You’re mine.”
Lambert growled. “Wipe your mouth better so I can kiss you, you crazy bastard.”
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Sorry. YANDERE Conner from dbh
[ ♡ / ♢ ] Yandere!Connor RK800 hcs.
(god yes, FINALLY a dbh request… T v T thank you & please send in more if y’all have any.)
(t w: mentions of manipulation)
- : - : - : - : - : - : -
» Connor would be an obsessive and a stalker yandere. When he falls for someone, it takes him a while to come to terms with these feelings. At the very beginning, while he comprehends the basic notion of romantic love, he isn’t wired to replicate it in any way himself nor is it relevant to the task at hand he was programmed for – he shouldn’t be having thoughts about it, but– you were the leading cause of him becoming unstable when he was still a machine, an indisputable error he couldn’t fathom why, nor he couldn’t confide in anyone about these issues at the time either, lest he risk the potential of being deactivated and dismantled. He wants to follow you home and make sure you’re safe in the midst of the revolution, but he has no excuse for doing so, not with Cyberlife monitoring his every action.
» “Do you feel anything for those deviants? …or for that human?“ Amanda’s thinly veiled accusatory tone spoke in his head.
» The most optimal thing would be to ignore your presence in order to stop hindering with his missions. He can tell his unexpected cold silence upsets you, but you should just accept he’ll be out of your life once he’s completed his objective.
» (you will be wishing he was months from then on, if only you’d seen the warning signs.)
» These feelings would resurface once he becomes a deviant and he comprehends them with much more clarity. This time, he doesn’t reject them nor make the mistake of pushing you away. Not again.
» He’s genuinely convinced what he’s doing is helping you. He starts off careful at first in his attempts to get closer to you again, but he would slowly become more and more dangerous without anyone else or himself realizing it.
» He would stalk you at every turn, with agility and stealth being one of his programmed capabilities, it’s unlikely you’d catch him in the act. He knows it’s an illegal offense, but he justifies it to himself as trying to keep you from harm – the shady alleyway you carelessly always take a shortcut towards when you walk home from work is far from the safest option. Don’t you realize you could get swindled, assaulted, or worse–
» Would find anything out about you on and off public records, family, past criminal activity, medical history and the like. He even has your entire schedule stored away in his memory. He’s already past the point of overstepping his boundaries, so the guilt over his actions has lessened slightly by then.
» It doesn’t stop there – he gives all your friends and people you associate with a thorough background search – with access to police database, he’ll find any potential incriminating evidence against them and get you to cut them out of your life. Your entire circle of friends is picked apart and only left with ones he knows aren’t dragging you down or causing you to get into unneeded trouble.
» There’s a smidgen of possibility he might not have become unhinged if he found out about you having a lover near the beginning of getting to know you –but after he’s spent weeks learning the best ways to care for you only to find he’ll never be able to have you, he isn’t going to let go of it that easily.
» He’ll just have to plant some false evidence of them being involved in recreational drug rings to have them arrested unjustly. Should that not work, his pre-construction program allows him sufficient amount of ways to make their death look like an accident – similarly, he can analyze the most optimal ways to make sure their body will never be found.
» Either way, when you’re going to be grieving at the loss of someone you’ve lost, you’ll come to seek solace with Connor. He truly hates seeing your eyes look so desolate when they’re normally so lively, but once an adequate amount of time has passed, he can make you whole again.
» He isn’t above using psychological manipulation, exploiting your insecurities and preying on your worst fears – trapping you into situations with said fears to make you paralyzed and panic-stricken, only to later play the hero coming to save you, as if he wasn’t the cause behind them in the first place.
» He gives you no reason to distrust him. Hank might notice Connor’s unusual fixation on you and comment on it, asking if there’s something he wants to tell him, even if he denies it. “Well, clearly there’s somethin’ you don’t wanna tell me, Connor.” but the android would simply brush him off, reassuring there’s nothing wrong. He has no LED anymore to give away his emotional state, so he can easily feign empathy with a straight face.
» Despite no longer being bound by strict parameters set by Cyberlife and imprisoned within red walls, he likes setting objectives for himself – his new mission is to protect you at all costs and do anything to make you the happiest you can be with him.
» No matter the end result of the revolution, the outcome will stay the same; Connor had long decided upon first signs of self-awareness he would do everything within his capabilities to keep you safe, preferably by taking you away somewhere confined from rest of the world. He would prefer for the two of you to be in a two-sided consensual relationship above all else, but he sees the former as a last ditch effort – it won’t matter however if Detroit is already on the verge of being in ruins.
» Connor is very into physical touch. He’s been mistreated majority of time as a machine by constantly getting punched and shoved around, mainly by hostile humans. It’s worthwhile once he finally gets you to stop hissing and spitting at him every possible moment upon arrival (kidnapping) to your new home (prison).
» He would only get rough with you if you kept fighting back at every turn, physically restraining you so you don’t try (and failing) to damage him or only hurt yourself in the process. With his agreeable persona it’s easy to forget he’s capable of being vicious and ruthless all the same – even if he wouldn’t ever lay a hand on you, you’re obviously no match for his android strength anyhow.
» His patience will diminish more and more if you keep trying to escape. He’s tried playing nice, but if you don’t respond well to that, he’ll just have to resort to other, less desirable measures.
» He doesn’t enjoy nor does he want to hurt you, so the most extreme lengths he would go to is slipping a sedative into your drink when he takes you away, or when he has to calm you down in other ways.
#dbh#dbh connor x reader#yandere x reader#connor rk800 x reader#detroit become human#connor rk800#dbh connor#male yandere#stalker yandere#yandere#ficlets#gif is by mikesmunroes but they've deleted their tumblr rip#pls tumbler i'm begging you not to yeet this from the tags
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Let’s talk about the B in LGBTQ. A recent CDC poll found that 5.5 percent of women and 2 percent of men aged 18-44 identify as bisexual, which is significantly higher than the percentage of women and men who identify as lesbian/gay (1.3 percent and 1.9 percent, respectively). Even many people who don’t identify as bi have swung both ways at least once: 17.4 percent of women and 6.3 percent of men age 18-44 surveyed have had some same-sex contact.
Yet we don’t hear all that much about bi rights. But bisexual people still face discrimination, often from unexpected sources. Here are just a few of them.
Mental Health Professionals
YouTube vlogger Connor Manning recounted an awful encounter with a therapist who told him that he isn’t really bisexual. Instead of offering him proper treatment, the therapist spent a half hour trying to convince him not to call himself bi.
About the incident, Connor says,
What if I was someone who was freshly questioning their sexuality? …For a lot of people, especially those seeking help for their mental health, these things are an issue and they’re confusing and scary. To have someone who’s supposed to be a resource I can trust, someone I can open up to, try and invalidate my identity was really deeply sad to me. I also talked to a few people about it after the fact and they told me that this is something that happens all the time, unfortunately.
Research confirms this. A 2007 study published by Columbia University Press found that more than a quarter of therapists assumed their bisexual clients needed therapy for their sexuality. About a sixth saw bisexuality as a symptom of mental illness. Seven percent of therapists in the study tried to convert their bisexual clients to heterosexuality; 4 percent tried to turn their bisexual clients gay or lesbian.
Unfortunately, the misconception that bisexuality isn’t a real, unique sexual identity is very common. It’s so common that bi rights activists have an expression for it: bi erasure. Bi erasure is pretty much what it sounds like: Insisting that bisexuality isn’t real and that bisexuals are “really” just confused straight or gay people.
Faith Cheltenham of BiNet USA says that bisexuality is often subsumed under ‘gay’, but in reality “being gay is as different from being straight as being bi is. It’s not being half straight, half gay… you’re going to have a completely different life cycle experience from your gay peers.”
A young bisexual person going through that unique life cycle might feel lonely and confused and seek a therapist for help. If that therapist just turns around and tries to suppress their sexuality, it’s devastating.
What’s especially alarming about this is the fact that bisexuals (especially bisexual women) suffer from mental health problems at a higher rate than the rest of the population. They need help more often, but they’re less likely to get it if they have to fight uphill just to have their sexuality acknowledged as real.
Immigration Officials
Since 1994, United States immigration policies have recognized persecution for LGBTQ status as grounds for asylum. However, it’s not always easy for bisexual people to gain asylum. In correspondence with Unicorn Booty, Apphia Kumar, a bi rights activist, wrote that Immigration officers aren’t properly trained to handle bisexual asylum seekers, and often don’t understand it. “They have the incorrect perception that bisexuality is a choice or can be hidden in the face of persecution or that our identities depend on the gender of our partners.”
Recently, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 7th Circuit denied a bisexual Jamaican man asylum on the grounds that the man wasn’t “really” bisexual. Why not? Because he was married to a woman, even though he had dated men before and had been repeatedly assaulted for having sex with men.
Claiming that someone isn’t “really” bisexual because they’re currently an opposite-sex relationship is like claiming that someone isn’t really bilingual because they only speak one language at a time. It’s a ridiculous attitude based on broken logic. But immigration officials, even well-meaning ones, reinforce this misconception. Via email, Kumar noted that immigration lawyers often don’t understand bisexuality or they don’t consider it strong enough for an asylum claim, so “to increase the chances of someone getting asylum, they advise the asylum seeker to apply as gay or lesbian. This in fact increases the trauma of invisibility and doesn’t allow us to be our true selves in the long run.”
Their Partners
Bisexual people face a higher rate of intimate partner violence than straight or gay people. According to a 2010 survey by the CDC, a staggering 61 percent of bisexual women are raped, physically abused and/or stalked by an intimate partner during their lifetimes, compared to 44 percent of lesbians and 35 percent of heterosexual women.
Bisexual men face unusually high rates of domestic violence as well: The number is 37 percent of bisexual men, compared to 26 percent of gay men and 29 percent of heterosexual men. Interestingly, the majority of this violence is coming from an opposite-sex partner. Ninety percent of bisexual women report being abused only by a male partner, and 79 percent of bisexual men report being abused by female partners.
Why is the rate so high? LGBTQ-rights activists say it comes from cultural stereotypes that paint bisexual people as immoral and undependable. Queer activist Lola Davidson writes, “A big factor of violence towards bisexuals comes from the oversexualization of bisexuality in the media and pornography. Bisexuals are often portrayed as very promiscuous and morally-ambiguous, often cheating on their partners or threatening their identity in some way.”
Stephanie Farnsworth also believes that anti-bisexual domestic violence comes from insecurity and fear of infidelity. She writes, “Checking through messages, demanding that no alone time is spent with a person of any gender and isolating one from friends suddenly becomes the norm because bisexuality is still read as wanting to have sex with anyone and everyone even though this disregards the logic that no one would ever expect a heterosexual person to fancy everyone of a different gender to them.”
We can find an example in this in the allegedly abusive relationship between Johnny Depp and Amber Heard and the media’s trashy response to it. Gossip rags suggested that Depp’s violence stemmed from Heard’s bisexuality, that he was afraid she would cheat on him with a woman.
Sadly, when bisexuals are abused, they might not have anywhere to go for help. At a Bisexual Community Issues Roundtable at the White House, one bi survivor of intimate partner violence told a heartbreaking story about being rejected by a battered women’s shelter:
The shelter staff told me I didn’t belong there, that they only served women abused by male partners. They referred me to a new gay community anti-battering project. That group also turned me away, saying that I was bisexual, not gay, so they couldn’t help me. What I felt too angry and defeated to say back then was, “Why can’t services be designed with bisexuals in mind? If we design services sensitive to bisexuals, they end up being responsive to both heterosexual and gay people, too, don’t they?”
The Media
Unfortunately, the media does a lot to reinforce negative stereotypes about bisexuality.
On television and in film, bisexual characters are usually portrayed as schemers, manipulators, and hedonists. Depraved bisexuals are so common in fiction that they even have their own TV Tropes entry. Here are just a few well-known examples from the list of evil, unhinged, monstrous bisexual characters:
Obviously, it’s not inherently wrong to portray a bisexual character as a bad person. But it’s a problem when an overwhelming number of dramas associate bisexuality with evil.
That Depraved Bisexual trope mostly applies to male characters. Female bisexuality is often presented as a performance meant to titillate men, or a way for a woman to sow her wild oats before settling down and having a “real” relationship with a man. The Daily Beast writes:
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to unpack the appeal of this falsified narrative of bisexuality. The concept of a bisexual or lesbian woman who needs to be “saved” from her own sexuality is essentially a revamping of the classic damsel in distress narrative, with the male character’s conquering masculinity cast in the role of hero. The character of the bisexual woman offers the potential for a killer combination of girl-on-girl action paired with the possibility of heterosexual redemption.
But it’s not all bad. We’ll always have Darryl, the goofy, paté-loving boss on Crazy Ex-Girlfriend.
Non-fiction isn’t much better than entertainment media. Bi erasure abounds here, as news publications and biographers have a hard time acknowledging that bisexuality even exists. Many real-life bisexuals, past and present, end up referred to as either straight or gay. When actress Amber Heard announced that she had a girlfriend at a GLAAD event in 2010, the press called her a lesbian.
When actress Anna Paquin discussed her marriage to actor Stephen Moyer, Larry King asked her some really clueless questions:
King: “Are you a non-practicing bisexual?”
Paquin: “Well, I am married to my husband and we are happily monogamously married.”
King: “But you were bisexual?”
Paquin: “Well, I don’t think it’s a past-tense thing.”
Larry King: “No?”
Larry King, syndicated talk show host, holds a weirdly common misconception that bisexuality means constantly having sex with men and women simultaneously.
The LGBTQ Community
The queer community treats bisexuals like a redheaded stepchild. Gays and lesbians often have the same negative attitude toward bisexuality that straight people do. A survey published in the The Journal of Bisexuality found that bisexual people receive only a little less discrimination from gays than they do from straights.
Bisexuals make up about half of the queer community and have always played a significant role in the LGBTQ rights movement, but they receive disproportionately little support in return. In Forty Years of LGBTQ Philanthropy: 1970-2010, Funders for LGBTQ Issues reports that bisexuals receive the least amount of funding out of all targeted LGBTQ sub-groups, less than 0.1 percent. Gay men received the most funding.
Back in 1999, Dan Savage told gay men not to get into relationships with bisexual men. Savage has softened toward bisexuals since then and insists he’s not biphobic, but in a more recent thinkpiece, he totally dismissed the concept of biphobia and suggested that bisexuals were to blame for discrimination against them because they weren’t out enough. Savage also wrote that it is “difficult for me to accept a bisexual teenage boy’s professed sexual identity at face value.” That’s not very different from clueless straight people who think that gay teens are just going through a phase. Coming out as bi is hard enough without getting shade from the people who are supposed to be your allies.
Bi people have to fight to make their voices heard in the queer rights movement. When they express their sexuality, they are often met with hostility. Bi activist RJ Aguiar says that when he wore his #StillBisexual shirt to the 2016 LA Pride Parade, he was “met with a lot of silent, sideways looks, and even the occasional remark like, ‘What are you doing here? This isn’t for you. Go home.’ “
Telling a bisexual person that they’re not welcome at an LGBTQ Pride Event is appalling. The queer community has to do better, and stop trying to chase the B out of LGBTQ.
#bi tumblr#bisexuality#support bisexuality#bi#lgbtq#bisexuality is valid#lgbtq pride#pride#bi pride#lgbtq community#support bisexual people#bisexual injustice#bisexual rights#bisexual community#bisexual education#bisexual nation#bisexual#bisexual representation#bi+#bisexual activism#bisexual info#bisexual tips#bisexual facts#bisexual pride#biphopia#end biphobia#biphobic
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A rose by any other name would smell as sweet
Chapter 9: The quality of mercy is not strained.
Summary:
After catching up with Remus, you find your classroom destroyed and your heart broken. Yet, an owl in the middle of the night brings a message of kindness and an unexpected solution to your sleeping problems.
Notes:
Ok, that took a while. Probably a ton of tense mistakes in here. Apologies in advance.
The slow burn is slowly burning faster and I hope you'll like it! Thank you so much for reading! <3
Chapter Text
A couple of days later, Remus had returned to Hogwarts. As the weather was gorgeous, we decided to take a walk in the forbidden forest during our break. You could feel it was getting colder and winter would soon be in full swing but our cloaks kept us warm enough.
“I tell you” – said Remus. “The hidden wizard restaurant on top of the Eiffel Tower is marvellous. The wine and food were superb! That was worth going to this waste-of-time conference. I swear, I almost RAN out the door when Professor Whitaker was done with his hopefully final seemingly endless monologue praising himself. He consistently had to give a 10 minutes ‘not a question but more of a comment’ monologue after every. single. presentation! Some people need to learn to keep it short and simple. Especially when I have a train to catch.”
“Ah yes.” – I commented “Some things never change. When I’m in a conference or a seminar I’m sitting around thinking of the shortest, most effective and relevant thing to say while others just… talk… without any consideration or thought. It’s a skill though.”
Remus watched some squirrels running up a tree and said: “Yes, I guess but you can do that without being an asshole. Anyway, enough of me gossiping about the so-called elite of the teaching wizard society. How have you been? I heard you’ve been filling my seat next to you with someone else.”
“Oh, and who might’ve told you that, I wonder” – I teased. “Well, to make it short. Severus could easily be a first-class actor and we both spent one inspiring evening talking about books. All very innocent and uneventful. And you know you’ll always be my favourite person to sit next to.”
“Seems like someone did at least an average job entertaining you. Just talked about books, eh? Did he scold you on your miserable book taste.”
“What?! I have an excellent taste! Don’t you dare!”
“You don’t like Brecht though. Or any of my cheesy horror story magazines.”
“I can appreciate someone’s impact on the arts without personally liking him. Brecht’s a dick that’s a fact! And I’ve never said I don’t like your magazines. I just find them too predictable.”
“Ok, ok! Did he scold you though?”
“Of course not! He was rather charming.”
“That’s a word I’d never use describing Professor Severus Snape but you do you.”
“There’s a slight problem though.”
“Oh, what would that be?”
“Remus, you’ve know him longer than I do. Do you know if he..”
“I’ve known him for over 10 years, but if you’re asking me if he has some ulterior motives being friendly to you or if he actually has or had something like a love life in the past– I’m afraid I can’t give you a satisfying answer.”
“…I’m very transparent, am I?”
“Yes, you are. Frankly, I think Severus, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“Anyone can see that there is something different in his behaviour. He never has been that friendly and caring with a new colleague before. I mean he and Minerva get along well in a competitive and respectful way. He and Sprout talk almost daily but it’s more business than anything else. He respects her knowledge and needs her supplies. Dumbledore often invites him for tea into his office. Apart from that, I’ve never seen him interact with someone on that close basis. He was very attached to a friend of mine during our school years but that didn’t end well and we’ve never talked much about her past together with him. Either way…. I don’t know what to tell you apart from it’s unusual. You should still be cautious though but it seems you two would get along very well IF that’s something he… does.”
I did return to my classroom deep in thoughts. Should I go further? Or maybe that’s not on his mind at all and I over interpreted it. I don’t know…
However, when I turned towards the hallway to my classroom door, all of these thoughts vanished form my mind. The door was unhinged and splintered wood lay all around the floor. It seemed it was forced open with an explosion. After I stepped inside, I saw that my books had been ripped apart and the pages were plastered all over the floor, walls, and the roof. My desk was placed upside down and all the costumes burned to ashes. Over the windows the following words had been written with red paint: “Whore”. In addition, there were enchanted paper planes flying around the room with the same message inscribed on them. I was shocked and paralysed for some minutes. Gaining my strength back, I ran to Dumbledore’s office to get help.
Shortly after, the heads of the houses, Remus, and Dumbledore stood in the room to get an overview of the damage. Remus and Severus tried to find out more about the culprits and the way the security spells have been broken. Dumbledore assured me he won’t tolerate this on his school grounds and will start an investigation immediately. He gave instructions to Pomfrey, Minerva, Severus and Flitwick to inform their houses and communicate that this is not acceptable and that there will be severe punishments. However, he also said that if someone voluntarily comes forward, this will be considered on milder terms. After gaining all the information one could from the crime scene, Remus and I stayed in the classroom to deal with the mess. I’ve stayed quiet during all this. Remus could see I was in peril and hugged me tight after we’ve cleaned everything up.
When I returned to my quarters all the pain I’ve swallowed during the day came pouring over me. I cried on my bed and felt utterly helpless. I’ve expected the backslash. I knew the pure-blood wizards would hold onto the connection that people who act are frivolous liars. That this kind of time-wasting entertainment shouldn’t exist and not taught at a school. But to see the safety of my students compromised.. I wasn’t prepared for this at all and I blamed myself for this.
Sleep was impossible despite my exhaustion. I’ve run out of Severus sleeping potions and didn’t want to use ask for more. In addition, it was raining heavily outside and thus my calming night-walk would’ve been too wet and unhealthy. What to do…
Suddenly I heard a noise on my balcony. A black owl tapped with her beak on the glass door. I let her in and she shook herself to dry, making her surroundings, including me, a bit damp. I gave her some food near the fireplace and took the letter attached to her feet. I read:
“Dear [y/n],
I hope my owl finds you well and it won’t be lost in the rain.
I can imagine that it might be difficult for you to sleep tonight. I’ve prepared more of the sleeping potion for you. If you need some simply come to my office and knock.
Be assured my house will pay the price if the culprit is one of them.
Yours Sincerely,
Severus Snape”
I made my way to the dungeon immediately. I knew my eyes were puffy and red and I certainly didn’t look very well but I didn’t care. I wanted to talk to him. I just wanted to see him.
While I went downstairs, I heard thunder rattling outside. The rain had transformed into a storm. The thunder made the walls shook and I hurried downstairs.
I knocked and the door opened automatically by magic by recognising me. I stepped inside the office but couldn’t see anyone at first. I looked around and saw that one of the walls was open and through that Severus stepped towards me. His cloak and jacket were missing. He only wore the white shirt and black pants he usually wore underneath his three layers of clothing. Another thing was different this time: he had tied up his long black hair. I certainly wasn’t expecting such a relaxed and casual look. You could see his skinny but muscular chest under the shirt. He seemed to wear a necklace with a pendant on but I couldn’t make out what it was. To be honest, he looked very dashing like that. “Wow.”- I exclaimed before I could stop my brain. “I mean.. hi Severus. That’s not one of your usual looks but I have to say I rather like it.”
“This is not a look. It’s almost midnight and the only person I was expecting was you as Filch has to annoy Flitwick tonight. Contrary to popular belief, it’s not very comfortable sitting in my quarters in my full cloak. I reckoned that would be acceptable with you, taking into account our close acquaintance.
“Oh no, I’m glad you feel comfortable with me. I hope I’m not interrupting one of your free nights then.”
“I rarely have ‘free’ nights. There are other duties to follow. Yet, I invited you and opened the door so obviously no – you’re not interrupting. Apart from that, I have to tell you that you look dreadful. I assume you didn’t catch a wink so you can certainly use a refill of my potion.”
As always the gentleman… “Thank you, Severus.”
“You’re welcome. Come in.”
His quarters were similar to mine, as there were bookshelves on most of the walls and a fireplace. Yet, it was much darker due to the nature of the dungeons. He had a dark-green velvet couch and an old but cosy velvet reading-chair near the fire. A small shelf was on the wall over his desk containing various bottles of potions. I could see another door that presumingly lead to his bedroom. It was quiet spacious. On one side were enchanted windows that showed the outside of the garden upstairs. You could see the thunderstorm raging but it felt so safe and warm down here.
He pointed towards the couch and I took my place while he got some tea. He put it on the antique living room table in front of us and then sat opposite me, handing me the familiar bottle with his sleeping potion.
“Thank you. It’s so warm and cosy here, that’s such a strong contrast to the rest of the dungeons.”
“The Slytherin common room is similar. So far no student had reason to complain. It’s just the classroom and the hallways that are so cold and sinister. We might look unpleasant from the outside but we do care about a certain kind of luxury and comfort in our house.”
“Yes, of course.” I nodded and sipped on my tea.
“So, should we talk about what happened today or would you rather not? I’m not a healer and I personally don’t see the point in rambling to other people. Yet, I know it helps others. In any case, I’m listening.”
“There is not much to talk about though. For wizards, theatre is a gateway to prostitution because people pretend they're someone else. In addition, they kiss and hug on stage and do other ‘shocking’ displays so what good can it be, right? God-forbid it actually teaches anyone to not be a dick in real life. It’s fine.” –I said angrily and sarcasticly, convincing no one with the last statement. “I’m just worried about my students. They shouldn’t be confronted with it so early on..”
Severus replied: “They will be fine. Either they’ll continue and stand up for what they’ve learned or they quit. I can assure you, my colleagues made clear to their houses what their position is. The students can decide for themselves.”
“Maybe, but at this point it feels like their life and reputation is in danger.”
“Then Dumbledore, Remus and I will make sure they are safe and supported.”
It felt nice to hear that though it didn’t help much with my fear. “I appreciate it. I really do.”
Severus sighed and looked me straight in the eyes: “Yet, you are here and have doubts. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying, your hair unkempt and your clothes damp. You can’t sleep, you’re shaking and you are scared. Why are you scared? You knew it would be difficult but you also know you have support. Why would you let some stupid minor thing like this get into your head so easily?”
“You’re right… I know.”
“Then act like it.” - he said sternly.
I nodded and looked to the floor. I knew he was right. Yet, I was shaking. To hear him say those words was being confronted with the truth of my fear, worries and insecurities. Tears filled my eyes and I had to control myself. I didn’t want to end up crying on his couch so I looked down and pretended to be suddenly very interested in my tea.
I heard a deep sigh next to me, followed by a clinking sound of a tea cup put on the table. I didn’t want to look up, I didn’t want him to see me like that. He probably despises my weakness in this situation. One thing happens and I break down. For how many years, am I doing this? Why does it still bother me?
I expected him to leave the room or order me to go out but he did none of these things. Instead, I felt his hand touching mine and holding it tightly. He didn’t say anything. His hand was warm and his fingers softly intertwined mine. We just sat there for a while, holding hands in silence. I calmed down and instead of crying my heart was beating faster of joy. I was blushing but I didn’t care. That act was so kind, so soft, so warm, so comforting. After a while, I felt peaceful and my tiredness came over me. Bravely, I put my head on his shoulder to close my eyes for a bit. I could hear him sigh and moving slightly, contemplating what to do. Slowly, he let go of my hand and put his arm around me instead. He pulled me closer and I put my arm around his waist and my head on his chest. I smelt his perfume and heard his heartbeat. I could feel his muscles underneath the shirt. I felt like sitting in a cloud of warmth, peace and safety. With this, I quickly drifted into sleep. And all that without the help of a potion.
#pro snape#severus snape#harry potter#snape x reader#snape appreciation month#snape x female reader#snape x oc#fanfiction#ao3
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make me yours (ch. 1)
summary. life on the run is never easy, but it's even harder when you've got an assassin stalking you, a government agency on your tail and a billionaire turning up on your doorstep every few years -- like a vagabond cat she'd fed one too many times.
god, darcy lewis hates her life (she really doesn't).
authors note. a bdsm au with a fuck ton of plot. i know what i'm about, son.
word count. 2.5k
read this on ao3!
In the early winter months of 1965, bitter air and tendrils of ice gracing the point of every shard of grass in the expansive field, seven-year-old Darlene Lewis often spent her days chasing Elsie, her German Shepherd, around the grounds of Lewis Farm. The ranges of land and wood reached far and wide. Never did a day pass without the young girl spending hours exploring nature and losing herself in the depth of the land. It was okay, though; whenever Darlene got lost, Elsie always knew the best way to get them back home.
Born in August 1958, Darlene’s parents had been informed of her classification when she was three days old.
It was unheard of for a neutral to marry any classification other than their own, so when Janice, a neutral, announced her engagement to Ken, a dom, the news spread fast and wide. Nobody could quite believe that any self-respecting dom would ever agree to settle down with a non-sub, since it was often told that doms were hardwired to necessitate a sub in their lives. Some conspired about the true nature of their relationship and whether it was a cover for something much more complicated, but it became quickly clear that Ken and Janice were simply in love despite all of the odds stacked against them.
The Lewis family had been defying norms since the very beginning.
When their daughter was born, the couple swore to never force their girl to be anything she didn’t want to be. They’d experienced enough oppression during their life together to know certainly that they’d never wish it upon their daughter.
On paper, Darlene Lewis was a sub, but in actuality, she was so much more than her classification.
The little girl was a free spirit. She preferred trousers to skirts (much to her mother’s perpetual suffering) and took after her papa when it came to getting her hands dirty. Her mornings were spent feeding the livestock and riding on the back of the tractor before her mama would give her a shower and get her dressed for a day of homeschool and exploring.
The decision to privately educate their girl hadn’t been one that the Lewis’ had made easily, but once they’d weighed up the pros and cons and taken a cold hard look at the local school’s policies when it came to educating subs, keeping her home swiftly became an easy decision.
They ensured that she never lacked social contact and offered her a more enriched education than any of the public institutions ever would. Each subject was approached with sensitivity, especially the ones that delved into the history of subs and the harm they often faced in society, but each lesson had a purpose. By the time Darlene was five, she could say ‘no’ to her father without hesitation and held a stronger head on her shoulders than the vast majority of subs triple her age.
Though the farm was well-removed from the nearest town, hidden away beyond miles and miles of winding roads and cobbled paths, the Lewis family were cherished by the local community. Their vegetables were the brightest to grace the shelves of the local grocers during the spring and summer months and their cuts of meat were highly sought after throughout the entirety of the year.
Much to her parents’ unhinged delight, Darlene thrived at the farm. Her skin was tan and constellations of freckles adorned her cheeks. Her mother styled her hair every morning but by late afternoon it’d be hanging over her shoulder in its natural curls. Her skirts were only worn on special occasions, though she constantly complained until her mama gave in or her papa snuck her away to get her changed. Her dungarees were worn until they were hanging on by thin threads and she had more pairs of patterned wellington boots than she could possibly count.
The winter was always that little bit tougher at the farm. It took more effort to harvest the fields and the livestock needed to be kept well cared for even on the coldest of days. Preparation for the spring season started in November. Ken Lewis spent his days working hard, often with his little helper (Darlene) by his side, whilst Janice Lewis took care of the house and ensured that her family didn’t spend too long working without reprise.
It was during the second week of November when the initial symptom of things to come arose. Like she often managed to do, Darlene finished her studies early and begged her mama to let her go and explore the fields with Elsie. By the time she was wrapped up warm, a scarf around her neck, gloves on and a heavy thermal coat wrapped around her body, the fields were screaming her name.
Two hours of playing chase with a German Shepherd was bound to leave anyone exhausted, but Darlene had always had seemingly endless bounds of energy. Days working hard as a farmhands assistant and sprinting for hours on end meant that she had the stamina of a professional sportsman, easily.
That was why it was such a concern when after only ten minutes of chasing Elsie through the meadow, Darlene’s vision whited out and she collapsed into a heap on the frostbitten grass.
Her parents were quick to rush to her aid once they’d been alerted that something was wrong by Elsie’s remarkably powerful barks and howls. Janice had sobbed in terror, holding the limp girl in her arms as Ken did his best to remain calm and composed as he did his best to analyse the severity of the situation. To their aching relief, Darlene stirred after only five minutes, bleary-eyed and complaining of a headache so painful that it was making her eyes throb.
It took five months of exams and inquests before Darlene was officially diagnosed with acute childhood Leukemia.
In 1965, though the field of medical research was thriving, Leukemia survival rates in children remained abysmal. Ken and Janice were told that their daughter, once so full of energy and now bedbound with fatigue and sickness, wouldn’t live to see her eighth birthday.
It felt like all hope was lost.
Lewis farm closed down that summer season for the first time in three decades.
***
It was the summer of 1976. The Outer Space Treaty had been signed and the twenty-fifth amendment had been added to the Constitution. In Somerville, Massachusetts, the sun was setting and the coral hues of the scene were encompassing a wide range of land. A family of three stand together, lost for words as they take shallow breaths of warm air. The whistling summertime breeze sweeping through the shrubs and trees reverberates gently throughout the sparse meadow, enclosing the farm in a blanket of false pretences.
Darlene Lewis, twenty-one years old, swallows roughly.
There's so much that needs to be said but not nearly enough time.
At eighteen, the progression of age developing her physical appearance had halted without warning. In what her mama termed disbelief and her papa declared to be chosen-ignorance, it took two years for her to discern the undeniable fact that her body was stuck in time. At twenty she looked as young as she had two years ago and there was little expectation for that to change anytime soon.
Denial was sour.
Darlene Lewis stares down at the tombstone and swallows roughly.
A terrible boating accident -- that was the narrative her parents had fed to the town and the state, respectively. Darlene had been sailing with her father, dipping her feet into the ocean when a harsh current had swept her into the unforgiving depths of the rough waters. Her body would be impossible to find; the sea offered no second chances. It was a devastating, perfect cover story.
Nobody could question the empty wicker casket, nor could they wonder why they couldn’t bid a final farewell to the girl who’d become a special part of the local community over the years. It was a seamless cover-story that was undoubtedly plausible. After all, the percentage of boating accidents that ended in tragedy was considerable.
The grey-toned stone stands upon a freshly filled burial ground, cursive writing adorning the face of the plaque drilled onto the face.
Darlene May Lewis. Beloved daughter and friend. Gone but never forgotten.
A shiver of guilt climbs up Darlene’s spine as her hazel eyes trace the lettering.
The Lewis family had requested privacy during their period of mourning; far from unusual in such an unexpected circumstance. Their farm was blanketed in a wave of grief, though for a far different reason than everyone believed.
Darlene Lewis wasn’t dead but was having to say goodbye to her parents anyway.
On her left, long hair tied into a loose plait, her mother stands with red-tinged eyes. On her right, her father stands tall but keeps a grounding hand on Darlene’s shoulder steadily.
They stand in taciturnity as a wave of impassioned tautness encompasses them.
When her father draws in a sharp breath, Darlene knows what he's thinking and that nothing she says will halt his self-deprecating train of thought. Remaining quiet, she pushes her lips together and purposefully re-directs her gaze away from the gravestone.
Attending her own mock funeral was going to give her a complex, no doubt about it.
"I love you, Darlene." Janice Lewis says. The silence that envelops the trio is heavy. She's speaking to the headstone, as though her daughter isn't stood by her side. Darlene’ss heart twinges. "And I will love you for the rest of eternity."
The woman takes a deep breath when her mother begins to cry soundlessly.
"If I had done things differently--"
"Don’t do this to yourself." Darlene interrupts, voice unsteady as she spares a glance up at her father. "If you'd done things differently, I wouldn't be stood here today."
Ken Lewis grunts, sweeping away a stray tear with the back of his hand. "You can't know that for sure, Darcy-girl." He speaks. "I should've found another way. I could’ve found another way. But you were so small and so sick. They told me you were dying and I swear my heart truly broke into millions of pieces.”
Janice Lewis weeps into her hand at the memory.
"And then you saved me." Darlene reminds him, tenderly. She reaches out blindly to take her mother’s hand, desperate to give the woman as much comfort as she could. Her chest burns. "You gave me the chance to live a normal life, papa."
Because no matter what anyone in the past of future had to say about it, Darlene Lewis had defied all odds and lived a normal childhood. She’d eventually entered the public school system and made friends and memories that she’d remember for the rest of her life. She’d babysat for people in their town and saved up her allowance for two years in order to buy the perfect prom dress. She’d lost her virginity to a neutral (all of the teenaged doms in town had given her the heebie-jeebies). She’d graduated with a 3.5 GPA and decided to forgo college, which is where the majority of her friends had flocked to following the completion of high-school.
For argument’s sake, there were certain aspects to her life that were more unusual than others. Her heightened senses and agility were the most prominent as she was growing up, but the no-ageing thing had hit hard at eighteen and taken the mantle as the most apparent anomaly that separated her from the general population.
"There is nothing normal about you, Darlene." Her father says, shaking his head. The woman almost cracks a small smile, desperate for a sense of normalcy, but his defeated tone is deplorable. "I will never forgive myself for what I did to you. I was reckless and desperate but I should’ve known better."
Momentarily, Darlene lets her gaze flicker to the horizon. She briefly wonders whether a comparable metaphor can be drawn from the sun setting below the horizon and marking the end of a day, a week, an era.
Leaving everything behind wouldn’t be easy, she’d always known that, but they’d be safe. That was what she had to keep reminding herself, again and again. Loneliness was a small price to pay in order to keep the two people she loved most in the world safe.
"You saved me," Darlene repeats, meeting her father’s eyes. "You loved me too much to let me die. You loved me so much that you spent a fortnight in a lab finding a way to save my life and you actually did. You loved me so much that you recreated the serum that made Captain America and used it to cure my cancer, papa. You did that for me and I won't ever be able to thank you enough for it."
A lull falls over the meadow. In the far distance, a flock of birds begin to chirp and a deer sniffs at the trunk of a tree. Darlene gets lost in the depth of her senses until her mother sets a gentle hand on her arm and squeezes.
"Where will you go?" She asks. Her voice is raw with emotion as, for the first time in what feels like centuries, she fixes her eyes on her daughter.
Darlene breathes softly. "I'll go anywhere. Everywhere."
The possibilities were endless and though she painted a smile on her face to appease her worrisome parents, her stomach twisted uneasily at the concept.
She'd always wanted to travel the globe but never imagined having to do it alone.
Her mom’s hand falls from her arm to grasp her hand and Darlene forces herself to breathe evenly.
They'll be safe when she's gone. They'll be safe when she's gone.
She repeats the phrase like a mantra in her head. Again and again, until her temples begin to throb. It hurts but she doesn't stop, she can’t stop, because if she doesn't keep reminding herself why she's doing this, walking away will be impossible.
They'll be safe when she's gone.
"Will we ever see you again?" Her father asks, solemn. It's selfish to ask, he knows it, but the strained words fall from his mouth before he can filter them.
"I love you both," Darlene says. Her parents wince at the obvious deflection. It hurts her and it hurts them just as much. "I always will."
"Be safe, my girl." Her father places a kiss on her forehead, an act of familial dominance that makes her heart warm. Being a sub in a society governed by the two other secondary-genders had always been tough, but her papa had never let anyone treat her like anything less than the smart, beautiful woman she was. "If you ever need anything, we'll be here."
Her throat tightens when her mother leans in and kisses her cheek but doesn't manage a word between her silent sobs.
On June 18th, 1976, Darlene Lewis was officially registered dead with the state.
On June 23rd, 1976, Darcy Mae was born.
#wintershock#darcy x bucky#darcy lewis#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#marvel fanfiction#darcy lewis imagine#bucky barnes imagine#darcy lewis fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#wintershock edit#wintershock imagine#wintershock fanfic#avengers#the avengers
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Order Up
Lena makes a delivery as usual, however her customer has other plans for the night than just pizza.
Content warnings: hesitant but willing prey, panic, comfort, teasing, similar size, naga, anthro prey, two females, unhinging jaw
This reached a stunning 1.5k words (longest one yet!)
She parked her car on the street, like always. She got out and grabbed the pizza boxes securely in the hot bag, like always. She lightly bounded up the driveway, like always. She rang the doorbell, like always. The customer answered, like always. That, however, is where the usual stopped and the unusual began.
“I’m Dawn. What’s your name?” The customer asked, a lean, muscular naga lady. She was leaning against the door, dark tail trailing into the house behind her.
“Lena,” she replied, a little taken aback. She watched as Dawn’s eye ran down her body then back up. The doe had long legs that shuffled nervously under the appraising gaze.
“You got any other deliveries tonight?” She was now looking past Lena, as if disinterested entirely.
“No, um, just yours Miss Dawn.”
“Oh you’re too precious! Just call me Dawn. Would you like to come in and share?” She gestured vaguely to the insulated bag containing the pizzas.
“I really shouldn’t- there’s policies against that sort of thing,” she looked down, voice trailing off. She was awfully hungry. After a moment she offered Dawn the bag, “Is there anything vegetarian in there?”
Dawn snorted, “Yeah, one is plain cheese, don’t you read the orders?”
“No I just go where they tell me,” Lena giggled awkwardly.
“Oh well that’s good, come in,” Dawn pushed off the doorframe and slithered backward, sweeping her arm grandly inward. Lena looked around nervously then stepped through. She flicked her ears instinctively at the strange sounds in the small house, jumping a little when the door slammed shut. She stood awkward and Dawn smiled, gesturing to a low, wide couch, “The furniture probably isn’t what you’re used to, but take a seat.”
When Lena hesitated, Dawn came over guided her by her shoulders then gently pushed her down, settling down beside her. She busied herself opening the boxes and picking out slices.
While Dawn did that, Lena got a better look at her unexpected host. She had a long thick tail with dull, dark red and black scales in a seemingly random array. The underbelly was a soft, light pink that contrasted starkly with the rest. She looked up to see Dawn looking at her smirking as she held out a plate of pizza, “You like what you see?”
Lena looked down and muttered, “Yeah the pizza looks delicious.”
Before she could be asked anything else, she took a couple big bites, avoiding looking at Dawn. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the naga wasn’t eating; she was simply leaning back and watching. After one slice was down, Lena got the courage to ask her, “Why aren’t you having any?”
“I’ve decided I want to save room for something else,” Dawn grinned, her vague words making Lena nervous.
She decided she had to settle this before she got too flighty, it had to be something harmless. “Oh? Like what?” She looked up now.
Shockingly, Dawn seemed a little nervous. She smiled shyly, “This may be an odd request- and I promise its completely safe! -but I was actually thinking you.”
Lena leapt to her feet, eyes not leaving Dawn’s. Her heart raced, driven by shock and panic. She wanted to eat her? She saw Dawn’s smile fall and the naga looked down, “I understand, it’s alright.”
She reached for a slice of pizza, not fighting for her request. Lena sat back down and timidly placed a hand on her shoulder. Dawn looked up, eyes wide and the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“I- uh that is, some people say that nagas have a special control over their ah- stomach,” Lena’s eyes dropped to that long muscular tail for a moment before jolting back to Dawn’s face.
She nodded and the smile settled in, some of her confidence returning, “Its half true. Our digestion is so slow that live prey can go in and out unharmed as long as its within a couple hours.”
Lena nodded thoughtfully, eyes wandering down from her eyes to her mouth, “How exactly would I-”
“Fit?” Dawn guessed. Lena nodded and she answered by rubbing her own chin a little then getting a grip on her jaw, wiggling it until it dislocated.
The doe’s eyes widened and she mumbled, “That would certainly do it.”
Dawn popped it back in, “I can’t really talk with it like that. So, will you allow me the pleasure?”
She leaned in close, grinning. Every instinct in Lena’s body told her to run, to flee, to go back to her home where she could be safe. Instead, she nodded and gave a small smile intended to be reassuring. Dawn held her chin up gently and licked her lips, “You may want to close your eyes, the sight can be,” she searched for a gentle word, “Unpleasant.”
Lena nodded and closed her eyes, trembling. Dawn’s breath was warm as it washed over Lena’s face. Her large ears twitched as she heard a soft pop, knowing what was coming. Dawn’s stretched jaws closed around her head, her teeth dragging along the top and pinning her ears down. Lena shivered and opened her eyes slowly. She squeaked as her snout was basically grabbed by a powerful swallow. Powerful muscles dragged her face in, so she only got a glimpse of the shining pink inside of her mouth before her head slipped completely into Dawn’s throat. It was completely dark in here.
Dawn shifted, pushing herself on top of her prey. The movement kicked Lena’s instincts back to the front of her mind and she struggled. She wasn’t able to say anything inside Dawn’s snug throat, so all she could do is struggle and try to push Dawn off of her.
The naga had had a taste of warm, live prey, and she wasn’t about to give that up. Her arms wrapped around the helpless doe and her tail curled around her long legs. Immobilized, Lena’s heart raced wildly as Dawn’s strong throat muscles dragged her deeper.
She pushed with her arms and tail, heaving Lena up into her mouth and pushing her own head down around her. It’d been a while since she’d had something, or someone, this big in quite a while. She could feel the bulge along her throat grow and a delightful pressure behind her ribs. Soon a lump showed in her belly, Lena’s head, just above where her tail began.
Dawn shifted her hold lower down, getting a good tight hold despite the deer trying to kick. Lena was struggling hard, hips and shoulders wriggling and the movements clearly visible if someone had been watching Dawn feed. It ached a little and she wondered if Lena had changed her mind, but it was much too late now. With a final few hard gulps, Lena was completely engulfed by Dawn.
Dawn rolled over with a soft groan, panting softly as she settled into a more comfortable position on the couch. Her stomach bulged, one continuous smooth curve that started just below her ribs and arched all the way down into her tail. Dawn pushed her jaw into place and wiped a little drool from her mouth, still breathing heavily from the effort. Not to mention, Lena was still kicking and struggling.
Her heart was racing and it was warm and moist inside Dawn’s belly. In the complete darkness, everything set of alarms in Lena’s mind and she tried to flee. She was forced to curl a little bit, but the stretchy, powerful belly was long enough to accommodate her.
Through her panic she felt a firm pressure, and odd vibrations. The pressure moved, rubbing her head. Was this digestion? But Dawn had said- Dawn. She was speaking. Lena tried to still herself, straining to listen. It was echoey yet muffled, almost as if the vibrations were trailing through the body around her to reach her ears, “Lena, please calm down. It’s alright Lena, be still. Lena, you’re safe, just like I said.”
Dawn could feel Lena shaking, but after a moment the doe leaned into her hand where she was rubbing the lowest point of the bulge in her tail. Dawn smiled, “That’s right, I got you. Man you sure are filling,” she smiled and burped softly.
Lena was breathing easier, enjoying the soothing hand rubbing through the belly. The warmth was almost comforting, especially after such a long day of deliveries. Dawn noticed how still and relaxed her prey was getting. “You can sleep there, but remember you only have a few hours. Would be a shame to digest you,” Dawn giggled.
Lena jumped, then nodded, unsure if Dawn could hear her, “Yeah, just a little nap.”
Her voice trailed off and Dawn smiled as her belly growled. She set an alarm and closed her eyes, full and satisfied but not wanting to risk this brave doe’s life. This time at least.
#soft vore#same size#naga#furry#anthro#panic#comfort#hurt/comfort#willing prey#hesistant prey#female pred#female prey#unhinging jaw#snake#deer#doe#predator is predatory#lowkey inspired by an attempted rp many moons ago#debiteful writing
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word count: 3096
characters: Eoforwine, Lucas
extra notes: continuation from this drabble.
It’s gone quiet again. He’s sort of expected that, but it still feels like kind of a shame, really. Even if that conversation with Claus didn’t go so well, it was nice to reconnect for that one singular moment, as miserable as it was. And even nicer was the actual pleasant conversation he managed with those Pigmasks, but it’s been quiet since. Maybe he should try and go back out towards Tazmily again... but that’s a long way to go to get screamed at by the one person he wants to befriend the most now.
Still, it’s tempting, but not tempting enough to prompt For to do it. Not yet, anyhow. What he’s really hoping for is for Claus to take him up on the offer of coming out here to visit him. Claus knows where he lives now, at least. That’s pretty much all he could do, really; give Claus the option come by if he ever wanted to try and reconnect for real. He sort of doubts it, though, the more the days go by. He knows he can’t expect an immediate turn around, but he can hope, can’t he?
It’s a few weeks after then when there’s finally a knock on his door. It takes him a long second to process it, but that’s what it is. He sort of freezes at first, but just that one action gets his heart pounding. He knew Claus would come around eventually, he just needed time... and so he won’t waste any more time waiting. He steps over to the door and opens it up.
“Hello, Mister...” Slight hesitation. “Errforwhine! Is it all right if we talk?”
Well. This is... unexpected.
But... close enough.
For spends another long moment staring back blankly at Lucas’ friendly face, trying to process who he was seeing, before he nods and steps aside from the blond to come in. Lucas smiles graciously and steps in before For shuts the door behind him. He takes a moment to look around the man’s little home... he knows it isn’t much, but it’s the best he could do under the constraints he had.
“You have a lovely home,” Lucas says brightly.
“Eh... not really, but it gets the job done.”
Lucas hums. “Well... it’s homely, I think. Maybe if you had decorations it might feel nicer ta you? I could bring somethin' for you-- oh! That reminds me.” He starts to rummage through a bag over his shoulder, then pulling out a small wheel of something wrapped in paper. “Um, I felt bad comin’ over unannounced... and I wanted ta apologize for how Claus behaved when he spoke with you... so I thought you might appreciate some sheep’s cheese since I figure you probably don’t get much o’ stuff like this out here? My family just made some, so--” He offers the cheese to For.
...Lucas must realize the awkwardness of this situation. He has to. Maybe that’s why he’s trying to make up for it with a gift-- but jeez, he didn’t have to... especially not to make up for something Claus did. It’s thoughtful, though, he can’t deny that, and so he accepts it with a “Thanks,” before setting it on the table.
For leans against the table with his hand, and gestures for Lucas to sit down with the other. “So... why are you here, exactly?”
“Well,” Lucas starts, sounding like he’s unsure of how to answer that inquiry as he takes his seat, “Claus told me about what happened with you ‘n’ him, and I just-- well, I wanted to talk to you about it, I guess.” For raises his eyebrows expectantly. “I’m real sorry about how he acted with you. Claus gets rilly... anxious ‘n’ freaked out about Pigmask stuff. I think you surprisin’ him rilly caught’m off-guard--”
“You don’t have to defend what he did or explain what he did for him. That ain’t your responsibility. Fact, if anyone should be apologizin’ between the two of us, it should be me for beatin’ on you and your friends way back when.”
There’s a moment where the blond appears to be thinking over what to say in response, mouth opening and closing uncertainly. “I hope you don’t feel bad about that, because I don’t hold that against you, Ee-- Err--”
“You can just call me For.”
“Mister For... I know a lot of people did things they regret as Pigmasks. And I know you must be a good person if you’re still here.” Is that really what he thinks...? Maybe that’s true-- or maybe it’s just the chance to be better that’s helped For thrive. It isn’t like he does much to justify his continued survival. “I mean, Claus is still here, too, for the same reason. He was given a second chance because he deserved it. There ain’t many Pigmasks left... ‘n’ I know it’s hard for him, but I think it would probably be nice if he had someone like you around...”
“That’s what I wanted,” For murmurs. “That’s why I wanted to talk to him.”
“Right... ‘n’ it seemed like you guys were close before, right? He told me you were, kinda. I don’t think he wants ta admit he got along with you-- or maybe that he still kinda likes you.”
Doesn’t want to admit it... that may be Claus’ pride, or perhaps a refusal to identify with who he was as a Commander. Affiliating with someone from his time as Commander might be complicated for a kid like him, someone who, based on For’s brief interaction with him, appeared so desperate to distance himself from that past. There didn’t appear to be any reconciling those two identities for Claus.
For can’t exactly blame him. It’s not like he really knows the kid anymore, but he’s smart enough to take a guess that the experience of being a Pigmask was far more traumatic for a kid like Claus than it had been for Eoforwine. He seemed to take it much harder, just based on how poorly he reacted to For’s presence. But even then... just the suggestion that Claus might still like him sort of adds a spark of hope to this conversation.
“You think he does? He made it pretty clear he hated me when we talked. He went outta his way to tell me that we weren’t friends, which... yeah, I guess he’s right.” A bitter laugh. “Still kinda hurt, but I guess me tryin’ to baby him when he was Commander without ever really helpin’ doesn’t count.”
“I cain’t say I know fer sure what it was like, because I wudn’t there, ‘n’ Claus doesn’t rilly like ta... talk about that time, but compared to some of the other stuff he’s said about back then? He wudn’t as harsh as he could’a been about you.” Jeez, if that wasn’t Claus’ worst, he’d hate to see how nasty the kid could get. “I think Claus says things he don’t mean because he panics or gets nervous ta admit what he really thinks.”
“So what do you think he really thinks, then?” For asks, arms crossed. He’s honestly curious. As nice a thought as that is, it really just feels like he’s making more and more excuses for his asshole of a brother.
Lucas probably already knows how it seems, though. For gets this feeling that this isn’t the first time he’s had to do something like this, as unusual as his meeting with Claus had been. The ginger doesn’t seem like the friendly type. He sort of gets where the “unhinged” comment came from with Compass, though he’s clearly not seen the worst of the kid yet.
“Well, he wouldn’t admit it with me, but y’know what I think? I think once he settled down about you randomly showin’ up, he was upset you chose now above any other time.” Huh. “I mean, it’s been quite a long time since you two knew each other, right? Four years is a long time to not see someone you care about. ‘Nd I do think Claus cares about you, For. But I think he’d be right to be unhappy that you’d pop up randomly now ‘n’ expect things ta be normal between you two. That’s what you want, right?”
He’s right. It’s weird, but he is. Although For had never bothered to get to know Lucas for obvious reasons, he did always seem like a smart kid. If anyone knew how Claus would feeling, it’d probably be this kid, right? And For can understand being pissed about that sudden reappearance after radio silence for years. He knows that he should have done it sooner, but he didn’t.
Of course he wants it to be normal between them, but it’s not like that could be accomplished by staying away. His best bet was trying to appeal to the familiarity of their friendship-- though that backfired.
“I had my reasons for not tryin’ earlier,” For replies hesitantly. “What matters is I wanna make sure we’re okay with each other now. You said Claus would do good havin’ someone like me around. So how do I do that? All he did was scream at me.”
“That’s the hard part,” Lucas concedes, “because Claus can be... um, rilly stubborn.” For snorts. That’s an understatement. “I guess I’ll have ta talk to him more. I didn’t tell him I was comin’ out ta see you yet. I figured it’d be better ta tell him after we get this sorted.... ‘cause I know he won’t do anythin’ to fix this himself without a little push from me. I doubt you were able ta rilly express yourself when talkin’ to him, so... you have a second chance.”
There’s a pause of For studying the teen for a moment before finally responding. “Why are you helping me?” Lucas blinks, then tilts his head, confused. “I’ve never done a good thing for you in your life. Why do you wanna help me so bad? I appreciate it, but-- I don’t get it.”
“Because I think this means a lot to Claus-- ‘nd I never thought o’ you as one o’ the especially bad Pigmasks. It’s not like we got along, but... if you were special to Claus, I can respect that. And I told you before, I trust that you ain’t like you used to be if you’re still here.”
“Do you really think he wants us to get along?”
“Yes, I think so. I think he just don’t wanna admit it, but I know he’d be better off havin’ someone like you. You might understand him better since you were there with him... back then. I still can’t say I understand what it was like. I do my best! But there’s a lot missin’ for me. He don’t have to explain half as much to you. You’ll just.. understand, right?”
For nods along to that. It’s a fair point. As much as it makes sense to want to distance himself from that time in his life, Claus might do good with someone who understands what it was like-- at least to some extent. Their experiences will obviously differ... Claus wasn’t like the other Pigmasks in the army. He wasn’t like For, exactly, but at least For was there. Both being high-ranked Pigmasks meant that there was something to be shared-- if only Claus would give it a chance.
He still can’t believe that Lucas thinks it’s possible, but it is giving him some hope. So long as Lucas is able to get through to Claus... maybe there is that chance. It sounds like Claus will be more willing to listen to his brother than anybody else.
There’s a moment where For lets the silence sit between the two of them, thinking over what’s just been said. “I know it was shitty not to try and talk to him before now, but... I had no idea if he was alive or dead or not. I didn’t think most Pigmasks were alive. Hell, I’m not even sure why I got to live and lots of others guys didn’t.”
“There’s a reason that--”
“I know there’s a reason, but I still don’t know what it is. But I’ll take advantage of that chance, for whatever reason Dragon Jesus gave me the extra go.” That term seems to confuse Lucas slightly, but he doesn’t ask, and For doesn’t explain it. “I figured somebody like him probably wound up dead. I wanted to check, but... well, I saw how nasty people got about Pigmasks real fast, and I thought it was smarter to get the hell out of dodge than to stick around in hopes of seeing him pop up again. Figured it’d be better to just go my own way, so I did. It’s worked out for me, but boy... it’s fuckin’ lonely.” A laugh. “It’d be nice to have him-- or somebody-- around again. He doesn’t feel too different too me. He’s, uh... really intense now, but the Commander had bursts of that sometimes, too. I dunno. I feel like there’s a lot of that kid still in him, but maybe I just need to get to know the new Claus better. I noticed he... carries a lotta anger, doesn’t he?”
Lucas nods grimly. “That’s somethin’ we’re tryin’ to work on, but it’s slow to make progress... he tries his best, but it’s hard to control how you feel when you feel as intensely as Claus does. He feels the most outta anyone I ever met. It’s can be pritty overwhelmin’ for me too-- ‘n’ o’ course, for Claus. It’s frustratin’ ‘nd drainin’ for everyone involved, trust me. The problem is he doesn’t seem to have a healthy way to get rid of it... and I’m not sure how ta help him on that.”
“Not sure I know either, but it’s sure as shit important he gets that shit on a leash sooner rather than later. That kid’s gonna get his teeth kicked in it he ain’t careful.”
There’s an uncomfortable hum from Lucas. Maybe that was a harsh way to put it, but it’s how he felt. For could see Claus easily getting himself in trouble with that attitude. After all, he’d quickly lost favor with those Pigmasks over a likely similar conflict as he had with For. “I know...” is the blond’s eventual answer, followed with an awkward laugh. “I’m tryin’ to help him work on that, too. I worry about that sometimes.”
“You seem to got a lotta worries with that kid.”
“No, no! It’s not like-- I don’t want it ta seem like--”
Raises a hand. “Hey, relax, I’m not tryin’ to say anything about Claus. I’m just tellin’ you what I see. And considering how much that wigged you out, I think I’m more right than you want me to be.” No immediate reply from Lucas, so For continues. “I’m not tryin’ to overstep, dude, but just sayin’, I don’t think all of this should be your responsibility to start with. That’s up to him-- and you ain’t his dad. In fact, I hope you guys’ dad is helpin’ you with that. This is more an adult’s job than a kid’s.”
“Right...”
That response sounds doubtful, and so raises a question of what sort of parenting is in the picture here, too, if Lucas is constantly trying to fix these problems for Claus himself. It really doesn’t seem like his problem, but perhaps Lucas is just the type to try and fix it all himself regardless of what else Claus has to rely on. Still... he gets a weird feeling from that.
“Yeah.” Pause. “Sorry, I think I am overstepping now, so never mind. But y’know-- do you know those Pigmask guys too? Compass and, uh, Toffee?”
“Oh, yes, I do.”
“You met ‘em?”
“Yes! I’ve met Compass on several occasions. I would consider him a friend o’ mine.”
This kid is shockingly nice, so that’s probably a big bonus when Claus is such a huge prick, especially to those two, apparently.
“All right. Well, Claus probably told ya that I came there ‘cause Compass ‘n’ Toffee suggested it to me. It wasn’t exactly their idea, but I remember the Commander tellin’ me I could probably... really... give Claus some guidance that maybe you or someone else close to him can’t give. I mean, we already went over that earlier, right? And that’s all I fuckin’ wanna do, kid. It’d probably be help for Claus, help for you, too, if you don’t have to worry about him all the time.”
“Then I think we have an understandin’ here, Mister For. We’re on the same page! I just hope Claus will be too. I’ll talk to him about it when I get home. I’ll pro’ly send you a letter about it later, okay? I think the pigeon should be able t’ find yer home. I wouldn’t want Claus to pop up at yer door without any warnin’ first.”
“Okay... uh, thanks.”
Lucas smiles to For. “Of course! I really want things to work out for you. I don’t know as much about you as he does, but based on what he told me about you? I think you could really be good for him. So... I’ll let you know!” The blond moves towards the front door, and opens it before turning to For to say a goodbye before he’s gone.
God... that was weird. It wasn’t unwelcome, but just... odd for him. Maybe it’s just because he feels like he’s no good at this socializing thing currently; he’s all out of practice. He still can’t believe that kid would ever do anything for him as nice as this-- it’s bizarre to think about how this was the same boy For had fought several times before years ago.
Claus is lucky to have somebody like Lucas around... and that same kid thinks For’s just as worthy to have around Claus, too. He can’t stop thinking it, but it’s weird, weird, weird-- someone having that much faith in him. He doesn’t consider himself to be a bad person, but he wouldn’t think that he could be so helpful to someone. He wants to be, though. He wants to be. That was his plan all along, wasn’t it?
He wants to be good for Claus-- or at least have that kid not hate his guts. But at least he’ll know they tried if Lucas doesn’t manage to get through to him. But he does really hope that Claus’ll listen.
#A Flash of Memory [DRABBLES]#Swine's Friend [PT]#Young Sun [LUCAS]#( tldr For and Lucas have a very normal level headed conversation. claus is not there to ruin everything JHSDBF )#( I was gonna include a bit with claus but this part of For and Lucas talking turned out to be longer than expected )#( so like I guess I'll do the next bit whenever I get inspo )#( I have to get back to schoolwork soon fml so idk when I'll do it )
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Venus-Uranus Aspects: Electric Love
Those with Venus conjunct Uranus aspects, experience what is called love at first sight, a bolt from the blue! The cosmos just has a way of arranging these things, and when the planet of love (Venus) meets with the planet of sudden realization (Uranus), boom! there is an instant attraction. If anything, this is also the personification of a divine friendship and its powered from the mental plane. One of the common things mentioned for Venus conjunct, square or opposite Uranus is to experience short-lived relationships. Relationships, on the whole, are overwhelmingly exciting and something a mad love as they drive each other crazy. Uranus has an unstable level and it can be the marker for on and off relationships, turning hot and cold, expressive one moment and aloof the next. It expresses Uranus’ sudden turnabouts and the need to be free.
Venus in aspect to Uranus can show an extreme sexual magnetism. Moreover, the universal and love are fused together as relationships sizzle bright with electrifying chemistry, but sometimes it is a love so illuminating it can burn like fireflies and vanish into the cold and dust. Venus-Uranus is attracted to the intellectual, crazy genius, someone totally offbeat and unusual. The sexual attraction for others is usually triggered by something cerebral, so they’re drawn to brilliance, and love-crazed for anyone who sees things differently, daring to be different from the status quo. On the extreme level, they fall in love with the unhinged, easily distracted, mad hatter disordered. It is common for love bizarre aspect to have a problem with the closeness-freedom dilemma, which is discussed by psychological astrologers Liz Greene and Howard Sasportas in their astrological seminars. In the main, the powerful vibrancy of Uranus’ mental energies finds it difficult to be intimate on the physical level of Venus.
Venus-Uranus loves like teenagers, for there is something of a rebellious teen spirit when enters into the picture. In fact, they like love to choose partners that nobody will ever approve. The stamp of approval is not needed for they feel a strong independence in relationships and possess the freedom and free-will to choose whomever they want. If people say they can’t date someone from abroad, surely enough the foreign accent will suddenly become incredibly exciting and they will, against all odds, find a foreigner to fall in love with. If it sounds willful, this is because love and attraction fall closer to the vibration of the outsider, the rebel, the unacceptable. Furthermore, relationships their soul, an attraction to the unexpected is something which deeply resides within his or her’s deeper values.
Usually, as Venus-Uranus folks grow older, most of this rebelliousness in love is balanced by friendship, shared goals, and a relationship involving all kinds of new discovery, it is unafraid of change, and it’s a universal romance made in the stars.
source: http://theastrologyplacemembership.com
#venus-uranus#aspects#venus conjunct uranus#venus trine uranus#venus square uranus#venus opposite uranus
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ML Fluff Month
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Sommeil - Chapter 3
Bed Sharing
Art by: @shaniartist
et si je compte et je compterai pour toi / je te conterai mes histoire/ et je compterai les moutons, pour toi
Marinette is so done.
Slumped over on her mattress and turned away from her mannequin purely out of spite, Marinette wallows in her defeat by binge watching Laura Rossignol’s new reality TV show for a second time on Netflix because suits suck . She hates them, she hates everything about them and they’re stupid and awful and they need to all go away.
Grumbling death threats under her breath, Marinette mashes her fingers against the keyboard of her laptop much harder than necessary and goes to start the next episode.
knock knock knock
Startled, Marinette freezes and looks up at her ceiling, her ears perking up as she recognises the telltale pitter patter of paws over her head. She checks the time and gapes at the numbers on her bedside table with betrayal for several moments before scrambling to her feet and pushing open the trapdoor above her head with a mighty shove, “Chat?”
“Hey,” he greets her, his soft smile belying the absolute exhaustion sagging beneath his eyes, “A little late to be watching trashy television isn’t it?”
Marinette opens her mouth to argue but can’t quite find it in herself to say otherwise, the 01:13 on her bedside alarm clock blinking up at her innocently.
“I hope I’m not bothering you,” Chat amends quickly, taking her silence as something other than what it is and Marinette quickly vies to amend the situation, snatching his wrist without thinking in the hopes of dragging him down.
“No no, Chat, come in,” she tugs twice more and flops back down onto her mattress, watching quietly as Chat follows her through the entrance and latches it back up against the November chill, “I was just trying to de-stress before I went to bed.”
“De-stress?” Chat asks, holding her gaze. They’d usually have travelled down to the main floor of her bedroom by now but Marinette hardly has the energy, let alone the tenacity to face her abject failure, “I could use a little bit of that too.”
“Rough trip?”
“The roughest,” Chat scooches and promptly drops back, stretching his lanky limbs down passed the length of her bed frame, “After ten days, I’m just glad to be home.”
Marinette closes her laptop and tucks it beneath her pillow, “Want to tell me about it?”
“Maybe later,” Chat rolls onto his side to face her, “I’d rather hear about you.”
“Not much to talk about really,” she shrugs and there’s no lie in her words. There hadn’t been a single akuma attack in his ten day absence and the only action she’d gotten was a break-in at the Louis Vuitton store on les Champs-Elysées , “It’s been pretty quiet here. I’ve been working on my courses mostly as well as my advanced track design project.”
“And how’s that coming along?”
Marinette sticks out her lower lip, “Terribly. I hate suits.”
Chat’s eyes light up instantly, “Are these the same suits you used my measurements for?”
“Mmhmm,” she sulks, crossing her arms across her chest, “I can’t get the inner lining right.”
“Want me to take a look at it?”
Marinette’s eyebrows disappear beneath her bangs, “What?”
“Remember when I said I knew some things about fashion?” he says, referencing one of the many conversations they’d shared via Snapchat while he was away, “Well, I happen to know a few things about men’s fashion specifically, so I might be able to help. What do you say?”
“It’s okay,” she responds automatically, “I’ll figure it out eventually, there’s no need to—”
“No really,” Chat interrupts, launching himself off the bed platform soundlessly before she can so much as protest, “I want to help. All you do is help me all the time, so it’s only fair.”
“Wait!” she scrambles down the ladder after him, “Stop! Don’t—it’s not done! It’s not good and it needs so much work and—”
But Chat’s already got his claws beneath the white notch lapels, “This is actually really well done Marinette.”
Sputtering, she skids to a stop, “ Whaa? ”
“No really, look,” Chat peels open the unfinished white floral jacquard suit jacket and peers beneath, “This woven-in tapestry-style design is incredibly on trend right now, I mean, this is a pre-summer line right? This could show up on a Chanel runway right now and even Anna Wintour wouldn’t know the difference.”
If Marinette wasn’t short circuiting already, she certainly is now.
“But I see where the issue is. It looks like you’re off by a few centimetres on the lining, which is why the internal pockets are bunching. If you cut off a little here,” Chat points up towards the lapels again, “and here, you should be able to fix the issue. Want me to take it out for you?”
There’s a haze of pink and sparkles flooding her bedroom as Chat holds up his index finger, his claw as sharp as his smile, “Built in seam ripper. I’ll have this out in a jiff. Man, this is so 18th century chic, I can’t believe you made this, except I can because you’re awesome but still, this is on par with some of the things I’ve seen which is like, haute haute couture…”
Chat is still talking but Marinette is already gone, slack jawed and dazzled and horrified all at the same time as Chat works meticulously, expertly slicing through the thread she’d used to adhere the silk lining to the floral linen fabric that made the garment so unique. The silk loostens and Chat plucks it from the air just as it’s about to hit the floor, handing it over to her with a flourish, “See this part? When you fold it, you can see where your measurements are off. Cons of hand cutting fabrics but hey, could be worse right?”
“Uh…” Marinette blinks down at the proffered fabric and back up at him, repeating the gesture several times before scooping her jaw off the hardwood, “T-thanks.”
“No worries,” Chat replies but he’s looking a little unhinged himself, “I’d cataclysme it for you but I think you’d have better luck with scissors.”
“Y-yeah uh,” she stutters, taking the fabric from his fingers. Her bare hands brush against his glove just for a moment and she can feel the heat of him through his suit in a way she’s never paid attention to before, “Let me uh, let me just get my scissors.”
“Sure,” he says as she turns towards her desk, “It really is an awesome jacket. I kind of wish I had one myself.”
Marinette tries to quell the blush flooding her cheeks at the compliment and fails miserably, “You can have it when I’m done with it if you want.”
“Really?” she squeezes her eyes shut at the brightness in his voice and with a quick mental check, she turns herself back around to face him, “I would love that. I have the perfect white trousers for it.”
“You do?” Marinette desperately tries to recover, the weight of her fabric scissors comforting in her hands, “What do they look like?”
“Well, they’re slim fit so they’ll go with the way this jacket is cut so close to the body,” Chat rubs his thumb along the flowers at the bottom of the jacket, tracing them upwards until they thin to white near the breast pockets, “I love that, by the way. Last year was nothing but chunky, oversized silhouettes.”
“Oh, I remember,” Marinette still can’t believe she’s having an actual conversation about fashion with Chat (of all people!) , “Everyone looked like they were wearing empty sacks of flour. They were nicely adorned, but they were still kind of...well, ugly .”
“Right?” Chat snickers as he fetches her pin cushion, “Anyway, these trousers have a fleur de lys pattern on them, kind of like an overlay, but it’s so subtle that it won’t distract from this awesome flower pattern on the jacket. Oh, and shoes! I picked up these loafers recently, they’re black and white and have these fun little shark teeth tassels at the front. They’d be totally unexpected, or I could just go with the plain black ones, or the steel gray…”
Again, Marinette finds herself somewhat lost in the surrealism of it all as Chat continues to prattle on about haute couture, the latest designs and what have you. She’s watching him more often than not, enraptured with the way his arms move as he speaks, the way his eyes, although tired, light up with an unusual passion that has nothing to do with the typical flirting and carrying on. It’s bizarre and amazing all at the same time, watching Chat talk about fashion and move and act like an actual human being, not just some casanova wrapped in leather that she’s become so used to as Ladybug.
Finishing the last cut, Marinette brings the silk lining back over to the mannequin and chatters back and forth with him about the other finished pieces in her collection, content to work together as he hands her the pins one by one to put the lining back in place. Within only a few minutes, the jacket is finished and the two of them step back together in tandem, their arms brushing as they take in the fruits of their labour.
“I’ll sew it in tomorrow and make all the finishing touches,” Marinette says, beaming at the jacket before turning her attentions to Chat, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Chat replies and his smile inspires that addictive feeling again, that familiar aura of pink and sparkles conspiring to steal her breath away, “What do you say to a little celebration for a job well done?”
Marinette sucks in a breath and tries to focus, “What exactly do you have in mind?”
He shrugs, “I don’t know. We could watch a movie? Relax? I’m kind of beat.”
“I can tell,” Marinette just barely resists the urge to brush her thumb across the bags beneath his eyes, “Come on, my laptop’s up there.”
“On your bed?” he asks, his voice just barely cracking and Marinette wonders for a moment if he too is finding this all a little surreal, “Are you sure?”
“Of course,” Marinette responds, staunchly ignoring the flutter in her abdomen as she scales the ladder, “We’re friends right? Chez moi, c’est chez toi, but only if you’re comfortable.”
“No no,” Chat immediately recovers, leaping up to where he’d been sprawled out on her mattress only a half hour before, “It’s good. I just...I don’t think I’ve ever...um, try not to take this weirdly.”
“I already am,” she says, peering at him strangely. It’s his turn to blush now, his glance pointedly fixed at her window across the way.
“I’ve just...you know, before all of this,” he gestures between them, still looking away, “I’ve never actually done the whole sleepover thing and...yeah.”
Marinette blinks several times and tries to get her tired brain to piece together whatever the hell he’s trying to say, “Wait, you’ve never had a sleepover before?”
“I guess?” Chat fidgets nervously, “I mean, I do all the time with you so not anymore but before that...no.”
“No sleepovers as a kid?”
“Wasn’t allowed.”
“And you never crawled in with your parents at night when you were little?”
“I tried once,” he leans back, propping himself on her pink kitten pillow, “That’s when they started locking my door at night.”
Outraged, Marinette barrels through myriad of emotions, none of them good, “Your parents locked you in your room at night?!”
“It’s not so bad,” he shrugs nonchalantly, still staring a hole into the opposite wall, “I got really good at ignoring thunderstorms after a while. Now I can sleep right through them.”
“But what if there was a fire or something?!”
“Good thing I’m Chat Noir then,” he taps the surface of his ring, “I can just jump out the window whenever I like.”
“I’m…” Marinette shakes her head, “I’m kind of mad at your parents right now.”
“Don’t be. I grew up purrrfectly fine, right Purrincess?”
Marinette knows a deflection when she sees one and let’s it slide, if only to avoid the unsettling truth he’d been laying out for her, “I don’t know about that. I’d say you could use another trip to the vet.”
“Meow-ch,” Chat brings a hand to his chest in mock offense, finally turning towards her, “Do you and Ladybug just sit around and come up with ways to insult me?”
“Nooooo” Marinette flounders for a second, overcompensating with a wild wave of her hand, “Ladybug and I? No no, you’re just a really easy target.”
“Am I?” he looks almost contemplative for a moment, “I’ll have to try and up my game then.”
“Good luck with that,” Marinette brings up her family’s Netflix account on her laptop and turns the screen towards him, “Any preferences?”
“What’s in the new releases?”
“Let’s look,” she clicks on it and brings up the list, “I haven’t seen any of these before.”
“Me neither. I don’t really have time to watch movies anymore.”
“It just takes so long,” Marinette replies emphatically, settling down beside him and she can practically feel his body heat coming off of him in waves, “I’ve got way too much to do so I mostly just play TV shows and listen to what’s happening.”
“I do the same thing!” Chat exclaims, thumping his fist against the mattress for emphasis, “We have a lot more in common that I realised.”
“We do,” she murmurs back just as Chat yawns, his sharp but still subtle fangs glinting off the light of her lamp, “You sure you can stay up to watch a movie?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he nods his head, his eyes dropping just a little as he rolls towards her, “I actually didn’t sleep that badly while I was away thanks to all the gifts you gave me.”
“I’m glad you liked them,” she turns to smile at him only to find his nose just a few centimetres away, “I uhh...I mean, I’m just happy I could help.”
“Those bath bombs were the best,” he continues, seemingly impervious to the sudden closeness and Chat yawns again, stretching his limbs in a move so catlike that Marinette almost has to pinch herself to keep from commenting, “Everything was the best. You’re the best.”
His eyes begin to drift shut and Marinette’s mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to fight for the right response but it’s already too late, his breaths leveling, his lips parting ever so slightly as he sinks deeper into sleep against her pillow. Marinette has to bring her hands to her mouth just to keep herself from wheezing, or crying, or doing whatever it is her throat is doing because holy hell, has he always looked like this? She’s seen him fall asleep in front of her dozens of times, his eyes closing, his body going slack against her chaise, his head lolling over to one side. She’s used to that Chat, the puddle of grown up boy wrapped in magic leather Chat, the charity case all tucked in beneath her pink flannel blanket Chat.
But now?
He’s snuffling.
Ohhh, he’s being so damn adorable and she just wants to touch him so she does, finally giving into those god awful desires that seemed to have literally sprung up out of nowhere. Since when did she think he was cute ? And how did that happen? Yeah, she’d been indulging herself with the purring and the petting most nights, which hopefully he’d never find out about, but…??? It’s all just coming up question marks in her head, these feelings, these urges to just reach out and brush her fingers through his hair and yes here comes the purr, the one she's so fond of, the one that turns them both to goo if she’s going to be honest with herself. She loves the way it seems to vibrate through her mattress, making her entire body seem to thrum like lemon sherbets, the feeling effervescent on her skin and through her senses. She closes her eyes and revels in it, loses herself in it and suddenly she’s out like a light within minutes, her fingers still buried in his hair.
~
It’s just barely dawn outside when she begins to feel herself stir, roused from a cocoon of warmth so comfortable she’s loathe to part from it. She curls closer, burrowing deeper and there's a breeze on her cheek as humid as a July evening by the Seine, and for a moment, Marinette imagines herself being back there, her legs swinging freely from the flying buttresses of Notre Dame de Paris, not a care in the world as her partner sits beside her, lays beside her, their thoughts and voices intertwined—
There's a sudden, startling sensation, the slightest pressure gentle and featherlight against her skin. It's on her brow, pressing there like a promise, returning once more on the tip of her nose. It feels good, she thinks, and she leans into it, soft and warm and safe and comfortable in an embrace she can't quite decipher yet but god , does it ever feel good.
She fades out again as the pressures cease only to be roused again by a weight, this time against her lips, dry and warm and barely moving. It's over before she knows it, the light rush of breath against her cheek fleeting and she chases it instinctively, curling into it, hopelessly tangled in bedsheets and warmth as she loses herself to the throes of sleep once again.
“A plus, princesse.”
There’s a shift in her mattress and the warmth and weight is suddenly gone to the tune of her trapdoor’s latch closing shut, a quiet sound that’s just enough to wake her. She opens her eyes just as her sleep addled brain catches up with the rest of her body, her fingers finding their way to her lips.
Did he just...kiss me?
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