Eventually - Blog Posts

new femme-only 7-11 opened on my street

i think something i want most in the world is for someone to hate me.

Like absolutely despise me completely.

It would validate a lot of my feelings about myself while also maybe showing me how invalid they are.

I mean what i actually want most in the world is to be loved but

heh that’s a lot to ask for (it’s not i just can’t quite convince myself it’s not).

The gang meets Stop me! Starscream (MY BOYYY)

They have no idea what the hell is up with his spark. but the fact that it's very similar to the Allspark and Dark Energon (aka its related to Primus and Unicron) scares the absolute shit out of them.

Stop me belongs to @megadoomingir

"STOP ME" can be read here!

Prologue: Texts With Katsuki but You're An Exchange Student.

NEXT

Tags: Exchange student!Reader x Katsuki, Uncle Might, Bestie Izuku, Traumatic childhood, University AU, characters are 20/21, war never happened for the sake of our happiness, reader is mentioned to be from America but you can ignore that, this is an intro for context (?) i guess, will be an smau.

Life hadn't ever been kind to you, per se. The past decade had been peaceful, and with the childhood that you endured peace was the best it would get. So you appreciated and reveled in it. Living in whichever state your heart pleased and going to University with government funds, all thanks to the hero whom changed the trajectory of your life.

You should've known better than to get comfortable with this feeling, though. It was and always would be short lived. Registering for classes was the only thing on your mind at the moment. You were scrolling through different Practicum of Battle Tactics professors when your phone lit up with a call notification. A bright smile and blonde hair took up the entirety of the screen, courtesy of All Might. You picked up the phone and answered the call, brows furrowed all the while.

"Hey Uncle Toshi, long time no talk, everything alright?"

"Actually Young (y/n), we need to have a conversation, are you sitting down?"

Ah, there goes the aforementioned peace, right out the window. Cue heart attack starting now. If All Might tells you to sit down, chances are things aren't great.

"Yeah, what's up? You have me worried."

"I would tell you to calm yourself, but you reserve every right to worry in this situation. I regret to inform you that your parents are being released from jail in a month."

"I'm sorry, what?"

Fuck a heart attack, your heart stopped.

"I know, this is a lot to take in. I was told that this is the most notice they could get me as far as a release date went. I attempted to get it pushed back, or even reopen the case to see if they could get more time based on evidence found since their arrest." You heard him sigh a heavy, defeated breath through the speaker. "However there was nothing to be done on that front. I do have another option to present if you're interested." He paused, as if waiting for permission to continue before explaining.

"I'm listening." You breathed softly, anxiously.

Over the phone you heard him clearing his throat, followed by the sound of papers rustling. A sound of satisfaction was made as though All Might found whatever he was looking for. Having known the man like family since you were a child you understood first hand how messy his paperwork could get. You could only imagine the state of his desk at the moment, where you knew he was sitting due to the time difference. Part of you felt bad for interrupting his teaching schedule even though he had called you.

"Okay so," He paused as though he was reading something, "We can have you in Japan in three days. I can have the visa and your enrollment at UA University expedited."

You held your breath for a moment. You debated if you really wanted to go overseas for a year, or longer, depending on how your case played out. But the alternative was your family finding you and dragging you back to that godforsaken cult.

They had somehow survived albeit not as strong as they once were. The loss of their leaders, your parents, put a large dent in their "community" but didn't cause them to disperse. You couldn't imagine going back there.

"Alright, I'll start packing." Was the decision you made after a minute of silence. "One thing though,"

"And that is?"

"No one but faculty knows about this. I understand the importance of them knowing, should something happen. But I'm a charity case here. Everyone has read the news story about my family and then sees my quirk and eventually puts two and two together. I want a fresh start." You rambled, ending with an exasperated sigh.

"I can assure you, a fresh start is the least I can do for you. You deserve it." All Might replied sincerely and curtly, still audibly filling out and filing paperwork. You presumed it was for your transfer. "Though it will affect your quirk training, you understand this right? You can't use your quirk at it's highest output and expect people not to figure out who you are. The story was national news Young (y/n)." He sighed heavily.

"Well, yes, but couldn't you and your protégé help me train? He kept your secret for years, don't see why he can't keep mine."

"You raise a fair point. Speaking of Young Midoriya, I have a conference to attend on the day you fly in. He'll be picking you up from the airport. I've sent your flight information over already."

"Thank you Uncle Toshi, I appreciate you more than words can say."

"Don't mention it, kid. Like I said, it's the least I can do. I'll see you soon, have a safe flight!"

"Thank you! Oh-! How do I know who to look for? I have no idea what Midoriya looks like."

"Green. Look for lots of green." He said without any added context before ending the call. The line dropped and you shook your head confused, but got to packing.

~

A few days later when you landed, you understood, and you wondered to yourself how a person could be so green. Little did you know, this little green gremlin was about to be your new sidekick.

an: i'm so excited to actually churn out the texts for this SMAU but readers background/reason for being at UA is a big part of the story. i felt like it deserved its own little background. this isn't crucial to the story but will def help provide context later down the line.

Wowza ain't this a big one eh?

SCENE KID NJ IS BEST NJ PROVE ME WRONG!!!!

*ahem* Soooo...I did this on my Ipad if it isn't obvious, I actually really like this lol.

There honestly isn't too much to say about this, like Jersey was a slight scene kid in the early 2000s and basically DIY'ed everything he is wearing, did I make it obvious enough that he is a Devils fan?

The red and green is a heavy call back to the original jerseys the Devils used, which I lovingly call the Christmas Jerseys, and clearly I went VERY heavy with that lol

The other side of the hat has a Rutgers patch instead of the Devils one you can see, this would have been when the Rutgers football team was doing pretty good I think soooo ya know, I felt it was important to mention.

ANOTHER POLAROID, this time by Rhode Island, and no you aren't reading that date wrong and I feel as though I don't need to elaborate ;)

erm- im just gonna leave this here-

You know that concept I was talking about? Well, since I've got a lot of work to do today, decided to write at least part one of it. This ended up being 1.8k....heh heh, so it's under the cut. Ehem.

When Atsushi arrived 20 minutes late to work, he expected to be scolded by Kunikida for his tardiness.

He did not expect the entire Agency to have their attention on him the moment he opened the door.

"Uhm. Hey?" he said, getting increasingly uncomfortable with the way everyone had their eyes on him. They couldn't all be mad at him for being late, right? He had asked Kyouka to tell them he'd be there in a few (it was still so strange that she was a full-fledged member of the Agency now), and it wasn't like this was a common occurrence. So why was everyone staring at him like they wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words?

"Heyyyyy Atsushi," Dazai started with a light, slightly mischievous grin. He approached the confused detective and wrapped a long arm around him. "How was your weekend?"

"It was good?" Atsushi only became more confused as he attempted to slip out of Dazai's iron grasp. It didn't work.

"Good, good," said Kunikida with an odd expression. "That's...that's good."

"Mhm." Atsushi now turned to Kyouka, who had left half an hour before him. Although her expression too was stoic, there was a small furrow to her brow. He looked at her, pleading both for an explanation and an escape from his mentor who still wouldn't let go of him. She averted her gaze.

"Ok, that's it." Atsushi wrestled out of Dazai's grip and turned to stare back at the Agency. "What's going on? Why are you all looking at me like that? I was only twenty minutes late—"

"This has nothing to do with being punctual," Kunikida interrupted. "Although, we will have that discussion later. You see, the thing is—"

"The news wants to do an interview with the people who are responsible for saving the city from the Moby Dick," Ranpo finished, clearly tired of everyone beating around the bush. The other detectives vaguely glared at him for going right out and saying it, but the brunet merely shrugged and went back to eating his donut. Atsushi's eyes widened and he grinned.

"Wait, that's amazing!" he said, glancing between the detectives, unsure why they all seemed so apprehensive. "It will be good for the Agency if we get our name out there, won't it?"

Kunikida nodded slowly.

"So then what's the problem? Are you not sure who should do the interview? I mean, Kunikida, wouldn't you probably—"

"Atsushi." The Weretiger turned to Dazai who had a serious expression on his face for once.

"Yeah...?"

"The news wants to do a live interview with the people responsible for stopping the Moby Dick. The exact people responsible for doing it."

Atsushi's eyes widened in horror. "You mean..."

"Yep!" Dazai grinned. "You were requested by name. As was Akutagawa."

"Aww no!" Atsushi buried his face in his hands. Suddenly, everyone's behavior made a lot more sense. "Well, that's nice. Tell them we refuse."

No one responded.

"Guys?" Atsushi looked up, making eye contact with each detective individually (except for Ranpo, whose eyes were shut like always). All of their faces were dead-serious. "We're saying no, right?"

"Actually, we already agreed," Tanizaki admitted quietly.

"What?!"

"Look." Dazai placed another arm around Atsushi's shoulders, but this time, the young detective was too distraught to even fight it. "We know that you probably don't want to do this—"

"What gave you that impression?" Atsushi bit back bitterly.

"But as you said, it will be good PR for the Agency if you do this interview. More recognition means more cases, and more cases means more money. And more money..." Dazai leaned in close to Atsushi's ear. "Means more raises. And you know who will be the first to get one if you do this, right?"

Atsushi bit his lip. He was well aware that Dazai was manipulating him, but he was also aware that Dazai was right. And the fact that everyone was letting Dazai do this meant they all felt the same.

Still...

"But with Akutagawa?" Since he didn't trust Dazai to be reasonable, Atsushi turned to plead with his eyes to the rest of the agents. His gaze first landed on Kunikida. "There's no way he'd want to do this interview. He'll try to murder me! Again!"

"The Port Mafia already agreed to work with us," Dazai informed Atsushi, his grin widening. Still, there was something about it that didn't meet his eyes.

Atsushi groaned. "But whyyyyyy..."

"Because it would be beneficial to them as well. Don't worry—I'm sure Akutagawa isn't thrilled with the idea of being in an interview with you either, but it's not like he's going to refuse a direct order. He won't like it, but he'll do it without killing you—probably."

"Well that's reassuring," muttered Atsushi. "And why do I feel like I'm in the exact same boat?"

Kunikida sighed. "No one's going to force you to do anything. If you really don't want to do the interview, we'll call the news station back and decline. But it would add to our PR, and it could drastically improve our clientele."

Atsushi frowned.

"Aaaaaaand you'll be the first to get a nice bonus," Dazai whispered into his ear.

"I guess, but—"

"You'd do it for the Agency, wouldn't you?"

Ugh. His mentor had him there, and they both knew it.

"Fine," Atsushi grumbled, feeling a headache coming on when everyone started celebrating. They all just wanted the money that might come from this interview, assuming he didn't botch things up. Could he do it? No, probably not. And Akutagawa would most likely murder him on camera when he least expected it. Yeah there'd be witnesses, but he was already a wanted criminal; it wouldn't change much.

"Perfect! Kunikida and I will be helping you prepare for the interview," Dazai told him, patting his shoulders.

Atsushi grimaced, his headache getting stronger. "Great..."

"There's also going to be joint practices with Akutagawa before the interview, so get ready for those. Also—"

"Joint practices??" Atsushi turned to stare at him in horror. "You never said anything about those."

"I just did! You really didn't think we'd have you two go on camera without having formally practiced how to sound like you actually don't hate each other, right?"

Atsushi didn't reply. Instead, he chose to sit down in his chair so that he could bang his head against his desk.

"That's the spirit! You two are going to be spending lots of time together! Isn't that fun?"

"Kill me now..." Atsushi groaned.

Dazai laughed. "Don't worry, it'll be fineeee."

"Ok, but none of you can blame me if this interview goes badly," said the Weretiger as he slowly picked his face up from the desk. "When is it, again?"

"Next Tuesday," Kunikida replied, notebook in hand. "So we have exactly eight days to get you prepared to be a representative of this Agency on live tv. As such, we are going to spend every moment we have preparing you—remember, if you mess up, we won't only not get more business, but we could also lose business as well."

"That's not ressauring!"

"It isn't supposed to be." Kunikida adjusted his glasses. "You need to be aware just how much is riding on this interview alone. So as much as you and that Mafia dog don't get along, you're going to act cordially and respectful like a true Agency member, got it?"

"Uh huh." Atsushi scowled. "Assuming he doesn't start anything."

"Good! Well, time waits for no one. Let's start." Dazai dragged over a chair while Atsushi lowered his head in his hands.

"This is going to be a complete disaster, isn't it." Still, there was nothing to do but to face the train wreck head on.

***

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Chuuya asked Mori again as the boss stared out the windows in his office.

"Of course. Akutagawa is a distinguished member of the Mafia, and I have no doubts that this interview will raise the Mafia's image in the eyes of the government."

"Maybe but..." Chuuya frowned. "Akutagawa is a great agent, but when it comes to social things, well..."

"You don't think he will be able to handle himself well in the interview, is that it?" Mori's eyes seemed to stare right through Chuuya's soul.

"I mean, no offense to him, boss, but he isn't exactly the most...personable member of the Mafia. Coupled with the fact that he's doing it with the Weretiger, a boy he hated so much as to defy orders to sneak onto the Moby Dick simply for the sake of murdering him, I don't know quite how well the whole thing will go if they're forced to be on live tv. Y'know?"

"I do." Mori smiled. "And that is why you're going to be prepping him for this interview."

"Hah????" Chuuya started. "But why—"

"Because he trusts you as an executive, and frankly, I don't think there's anyone else in the Mafia more suited to guiding Akutagawa in this manner." Mori's tone was light, but one thing was evident—this wasn't a request, it was an order.

Chuuya scowled. "And does Akutagawa know about this interview yet?"

Mori's grin broaded slightly. "I figured you could let him know. Until the interview, this takes precedence over any other mission or assignment. Just tell him it's an order from me. I'm sure he won't be happy about it, but he obviously can't refuse. I trust you'll be able to make him camera ready by next Tuesday?"

Chuuya grumbled something under his breath that likely wasn't polite to say in the boss' company. "We're going to have to start today then. It's going to take a few hours just to warm him up to the idea."

"Well, it's a good thing neither of you have any missions right now, so you can get plenty of practice. Courtesy of your boss, of course." Mori laughed. "Oh, and one more thing," he added when Chuuya had begun stalking towards the door. "You two will also have join practices with the Agency."

"What?!" Chuuya wheeled on Mori. "Joint practices?"

"Well, of course. Akutagawa and the Weretiger need to be able to sit in the same room on live television without one trying to kill the other, right? It would also help to get the story straight so that neither of them say anything that might be a little...incriminating."

"Fine, we'll do it." Chuuya's voice displayed utter defeat. "But just promise me one thing. Please promise me that the Mackerel won't be there. Please."

Mori glanced away. "I don't know who the Agency will ask to assist the Weretiger in preparing but..."

Chuuya sighed and rubbed his temples. "I already feel a headache coming on. Well, I'm off to go inform Akutagawa that he's gotta learn how to smile by next week." He turned his heel and stomped away, dreading the next eight days of his life. He wasn't in the mood for a long conversation, so Akutagawa was going to be ok with this, whether he wanted to or not. Once he entered the elevator, he sent the broody agent a quick text to meet him in one of the southern towers. After receiving a quick response, Chuuya had to laugh.

"Oh, this is going to be a train wreck," he mused, watching the skyline slowly sink. "A beautiful, terrible, train wreck."

Yeah so that's the concept - it's a little rushed, but if anyone actually wants a part two, perhaps I'll write it.

Guide to Courting your crush (as instructed via a @saisai-chan request) Step 1: Buy flowers Step 2: 

D̴ ̧E̷̶͞͞͠ ҉̷̡̀͜S͏҉̷ ͞͡T҉̕͡ ̴̛R̨̛̕͝ ̵̡̨O̴̧̨͢͜ ̸̛̀Ỳ̡̨̨͘ ͢͜͏

Reblog this to ease the back pain of the person you reblogged it from

this website’s easy watch. *dangles a bunch of greek gods like keys*

My Name is Derek Hale page 02 - in which the song lyric text is too tiny but hopefully somewhat readable, and stiles is having A Morning.

Next page is once again queued up for next weekend! this and page 3 have too many panels crammed into them, it gets better i promise lol

[<<prev | P02] Original story on Ao3 by @isthatbloodonhisshirt

In the flash season one, how does Dr. Wells make his eyes red?? Can Barry do that?? What, is he vibrating his eyeballs hard enough that they turn red with rage lmao?

This was my request fill for the One Piece Fanwork Exchange back in April that I posted on AO3. The zosan prompt was "two pining idiots"

I've been debating for months whether to post it on tumblr since long vertical comics often don't look good in the thumbnails, still not sure I'm too happy with that bit.

Bruce calls Constantine for a second opinion

Constantine chokes on his cigarette and goes on “vacation” in an alternate dimension

He discusses the matter with Wonder Woman and Superman (his friends, for support) and Diana is overjoyed to hear that the “legendary guardian” survives

She then congratulates Bruce for becoming royalty

And then, after seeing his confusion, refuses to elaborate (the Great One will tell you in his own time)

Bruce would very much like to learn more about this,, baby eldritch abomination? Self proclaimed “ghost”? Somehow Royal??,, Being he has adopted.

He suspects that this might be more difficult than anticipated

This is a follow-up/one-shot based on the fic I wrote here, which was based on the prompt by @ghostreblogging

I'm really having fun with Big Brother Danny AU~ big thanks to everyone taking the time to read it!

Not So Normal

Daniel Fenton-Wayne had been with the family for a while now. To say that he was odd would be an injustice because he wasn't really. At least, not compared to the rest of the costume wearing vigilante family. Danny was a civilian, albeit a strange one. Danny and Damian were close in age, and everyone could tell that Danny wanted to be a good big brother; he'd never had the chance to before. The strangeness came in when Damian brandished his many weapons toward Danny, and he... caught him mid launch. Just snatched the little bird out of the air for a hug. Damian had thought he was putting up a fight, but it was clear that Danny wasn't struggling. He seemed so casually unbothered by Damian's behavior, but he was normal, ya know?

Damian sneers and waves his fork menacingly at Danny during dinner?

"He's fine! He's like, what, 10 years old?"

Damian growled that he was clearly 12 and threw himself over the table at him.

Damian threatens him with his swords?

"Damian! No!"

"Nooooo! Don't discourage him! He might lose interest!" And even as the rest of the family assured him that that would be a good thing, he handed Damian the blade and asked if lessons were on the table so Damian could have a "competent sparring partner." He still tried to stab Danny after that.

As concerning as it always was when Damian tried to stab someone, they were all relieved that Daniel seemed to be able to handle the demon brat better than most. Eventually the baby bird would warm up to him and stop stabbing him so often, but until then, Danny could handle himself.

~~~~○•○•○~~~~

Let it be known that Damian did not have a favorite brother! They were all imbeciles with poor taste in humor and mediocre fighting skills. That being said, Danny did have a leg up over the others for inquiring about sword lessons to improve his fighting prowess, even if he was already surprisingly adequate for a civilian. Well, that and other things that Danny had admitted only to him in the months he'd been with the family. It was strange being the one he confided in, but he felt a sort of pride that, even though he'd tried to stab Daniel, he was still the one he went to when he needed to talk about stuff he hadn't told the others. So perhaps it wasn't that surprising that when he'd gotten in trouble, Danny was the one Damian called for.

Patrol that night had been boring and quiet. Too quiet. Way too quiet for Gotham, which meant that something bad was brewing. Batman had handed Robin off to Nightwing for the night while he poured over all the reports and data from the last few weeks to figure out what the rogues of Gotham could have planned. Nightwing was ashamed to say that the Joker had gotten the jump on them. He'd tied the two up, leaving their comms on so the rest of the bats could hear all of the terrible things Joker had planned for them. He included terrible reminders of how he'd murdered Jason and how he couldn't wait to pluck the wings from Batman's other birdies. Damian wanted to rip his throat out for that, but he was in no shape to fight. His family was in danger, so he called out to the only other person he trusted.

"DANIEL!" Damian screamed long and loud for his brother, the plea surging forth from deep in his chest. Dick looked horror stricken that his baby brother had called out for the one member of the family that wasn't a vigilante, painting a huge target on his back. But even as he could hear the commotion coming through the comms and see the panicked look on Dick's face, he called for Danny again. His brother would help. He would come!

The room's temperature dropped in an instant, their panting, panicked breaths fogging the air while the lights flickered. The Joker paused in his maniacal laughter to observe the Lazarus green pool forming on the ground between him and the birds. Frost and ice cracked through the concrete of the warehouse as a head of white hair with a crown of crystalline ice rose through the small pit and the Joker's veins flooded with dread at the too wide, too sharp smile on the thing's face.

"Don't worry, I'm here. You're safe," he cooed comfortingly back to Damian, his voice an otherworldly echo in the large space. "But you?" He gestured to the Joker with claw-like fingers. "Well, let's just say, I've been d̵͔̦̩̒̒̊ẙ̴̧͓͕̺ḯ̸͖̪͔n̶͉͛g̵̻̾͒͜ to get my hands on you."

It happened so fast that no one really knew if the Joker screamed or not. In one moment, the boy's body had morphed into a cloud of inky black scattered with what looked like honest to God stars that smothered the Joker, and in the next, he was gone. The being who, upon closer inspection, definitely looked like Danny if he had white hair and green eyes and was a literal Eldritch creature, was untying them with care.

"Danny?" Dick questioned. He acknowledged him with a quick nod before turning back to Damian, the one who had called.

"You came," the youngest mumbled.

"You called," Danny answered with a soft smile. "Did you think that I wouldn't?"

"No. I knew that you would. You're not incompetent like the others."

"You guys heard that, right? That was definitely a compliment!"

Damian huffed but sagged in relief once he and Dick were both untied.

"You- you're-" Dick stumbled over his words in astonishment. "Danny, you're a meta?"

"Technically, it's a medical condition, but details," he responded, waving off the rest of the question with a cheeky smile.

In Nightwing's ear Bruce asked to speak with Danny. He removed the earpiece and tapped Danny's arm with it, gesturing to his ear. The "meta" slid it on just in time to hear his adoptive father shout.

"We will be talking about this as soon as everyone gets home safe, am I understood!"

"Loud and clear, boss man!"

"Let it be known that I knew something was weird about Danny!" He heard Jason exclaim. "No offense man."

"None taken, my Revenant sibling mine."

"Where did the Joker even go?" Someone over the comms asked. Danny thought it was Steph.

"I sent him to clown jail. I hate clowns. I've literally never met one that hasn't tried to kill me or my family."

Upon learning that the Joker wasn't the first homicidal clown that their, before now, seemingly normal brother had met, the comms erupted into chaos. Danny tossed the earpiece back to Nightwing before whisking them away back to the cave under the manor. He had a lot of explaining to do.

I’m hoping for an outcome like this :)

they tell you about school and they tell you about work and they tell you about taxes and responsibilities and ideals you have to reach. they don’t tell you about baking chocolate cookies from scratch at the ungodly hours of 11 at night and sitting on your kitchen floor while watching a home decor competition show while you get to munch on a cookie that tastes like the hot chocolate you used to make when you needed a reason to live as a teenager. they don’t tell you about getting to eat another cookie while you think about capturing this moment in a mason jar and shipping it through time to your younger self who gets scared so easily by school and work and taxes and responsibilities and ideals. your younger self who wonders if there’s still comfort, still good things, and if you get to claim them for yourself at some point or if comfort is always a question of dependence. they don’t tell you about that, when for years we do nothing but dream about moments like these

still thinking about this scene… savier my beloved <3

Simon: What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Xavier: Wow, you could start with a 'good morning'.

Simon: Good morning. What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Not me and my friend collabing on some TGS art lol

i joined some osomatsu san fan discord servers to interact more w peeps who like the show, but im like?? so goddam? fucking spooked and socially anxious over it??? i dunno what the fuck is wrong with me but i guess i just unlocked a new form of social anxiety for myself (doesn't help that i just kinda joined via a link and wasn't like invited, it felt like i'd just walked into someones house, i feel so outta place man o((⊙﹏⊙))o.)

here some extremely shitty doodles of my sona i did to vent some of this weird anxiety

i dunno... anyway.... can anyone relate?

today was busy but still got Grian done! he has mechanical dragonfly wings for his elytra, so he can hover (to more effectively bother people).

• more concepts, including some characters of my cool friend i’d be writing with •

2 mimir? 3 mimir!

WANDERSONG DOODLES while i PROCRASTINATE!!!

i love them so so very much i think they are so fl*pping neat

gonna work on a drawing of Mask with more effort soon!!! definitely!!! i will not get distracted!!! /probably a lie

He's gorgeous in every form✨💛 I wanted to draw him for the longest time.

Wish me look pulling for both legendary costumes.

BARTYLUS

Unrequited Bartylus is just so precious to me for some reason.

Barty thinks Regulus loves him the same way he loves Regulus. But Regulus doesn't realise Barty likes him in that way, he thinks it's a friends with benefits situation without any feelings involved... So one day when he goes to his dorm to tell Barty, his best friend, about James Potter and how he thinks he's falling for Jamie, he doesn't quiet understand why Barty looks like he's going to breakdown.

Barty thought it was more than just a quick fuck between two friends. So hearing about James Potter broke him. He knew it showed on his face so he covered it up quickly and teased Regulus, before making some two-bit exuse and running Dorcas' dorm- she always helps...

[And Evan was there watching as his bestfriend broke the heart of the boy Evan loved, getting his own heart broken]

Snip-it of a oneshot I’ve been working on.

Currently ~ 1600 words.

Impasse (WIP)

Summary: Draco goes back to the Manor, even though he knows he shouldn't.

It was a cool Thursday morning.

If you could call it morning yet, maybe a more apt description was cool Wednesday night, though as gravel crunched beneath Draco's boots, with the early spring wind nipping at his exposed skin, and only the moonlight, a weak Lumos, and foggy half remembered directions to guide him, the particulars seemed unimportant. Either way it had still been cold enough for Draco to be thankful of his spilt second decision to grab one of his nicer winter cloaks — A distinction which had been granted to it solely for the fact that it's only needed mending charms once or twice, compared to the three or four times that seemed to be growing more and more common amongst articles in his wardrobe these days — before he had headed out the door of his cramped little flat hidden away in his own personal slice of hell in Knockturn Alley.

This was undoubtedly a terrible idea, impulsive, and stupid. Though its not as if any of that has ever stopped him before.

It won't stop him now, either. Even as every instinct in his body screams at him to turn heel, do what he's best at and run. Run far, far away, from Wiltshire, from his gaudy little flat with the temperamental pipes and obnoxiously loud neighbours, from London, farther and farther until nobody can put a face to his name, or a name to his face. Until he's just an unrecognizable body in a sea of people who would forget he was ever there by sunrise. Maybe he'd never stop running, he could chase the moon as it chases the sun.

Pausing only momentarily in places like this, where its quiet and cool, frozen in a perpetual state of in between. Places where he could force certainty out of the simple fact that there is none.

The thoughts are nothing more but an idle indulgence, brushed away as quickly as they form by the breeze. A distraction that crumples under the weight of reality as the Manor comes into sight, hulking like its nothing more than man made stain on the otherwise picturesque horizon. It doesn't seem real, not anymore, as if it were something out of the shattered remnants of a nightmare, or a warped memory best left forgotten.

It seems so long ago now that the Manor was bright, filled to the brim with wonder and luxury. People dancing and twirling in lavish, ornate clothes through its chambers and halls, laughing, drinking, socializing, and gracing a young Draco with hundreds of stories and tales all teeming with whimsy, delight, riches, and power. His parents, murmuring promises of his future into his ear in between bouts of bigoted tripe.

As Draco approached the Manor now though — his head hung like a man heading for the gallows, a poor attempt to obscure it from his view — it was only an obelisk of misery. Each chunk of stone, every brick, and bit of wood, nothing more than a testament to every little mistake he, or his family, had ever made. A physical reminder of every decision, every choice, destined to rot, to transform and warp into a far more accurate depiction of the Malfoy line then the gold and the silk and the bright laughter ever was.

He shouldn't have come back. He doesn't have the right to come back, not anymore. But he had to, because beneath the omnipresent urge to run, beneath the guilt that barred down on his shoulders during the day, and whispered him into states of unrest at night, was the desperate, prowling, angry, need for closure.

So Draco keeps walking.

The air gets thicker the closer he gets, so heavy with spent magic that it's almost smothering. Around him the bright forest he remembered from his childhood gradually shifts into something half dead, wild, and gnarled. Magical plants seem to have mostly reclaimed the grounds, winding up the bars of the rusting ornate fence that guards the curving drive leading up to the Manor, as if Draco's presence alone had frozen them in the middle of a mad scrabble over it, pushing uneasily against the reinforced wards surrounding the grounds like they were desperate to find a way out. The vines of a plant he once would've been able to recognize at a passing glance had grown so thick he could hardly see through it to the other side.

Keeping his hand as steady as he's able, which isn't as much as he would've liked, he draws his wand higher, preparing to have to brute force his way through the plants, when they slither away from his Lumos, as if sensing their impending fate. "Wonderful. Just— Lovely." Draco murmurs with disgust, watching with a suppressed grimace as the plants slither into the shadows and underbrush. In a bid to steel his nerves he inhales sharply as he turns his attention back to the gate. In the Manor's prime, it would easily open at the presence of any Malfoy, requiring nothing more than a glance and the want for it to do so, but with the wards the Ministry slammed on the place after— Well, everything. He wasn't entirely sure if any of his family's wards were stilled up, let-alone keyed to him.

Even so, still has to try.

Curling his fingers tighter around his wand, he reaches out with his magic, tentatively pressing against the wards. It was an odd sensation, like sticking his hand into a bowl of treacle only to be met with the texture of oil. The feeling of resistance crawled its way up his arm, but never fully stopped him. Time slowed to a drip, and all of a sudden it seemed as if the only accurate measure of it was the speed of which his heart thudded anxiously between the pit of his stomach, and the top of his throat. This really was a stupid idea, he should have never entertained it. Who did he think he was? Trying to bypass Ministry sanctioned wards with the grace of a child knocking over a vase. If he was lucky nothing would happen, and he could just return to his shitty, drafty, far too small flat, and fruitlessly try to forget this ever happened. Though what was far, far more likely to happen would be that the nearest Auror would Apparate over, see that Draco Malfoy was surely up to no good, and haphazardly toss him into the most over crowded cell in Azkaban. If they were feeling merciful. Slowing his breathing in an attempt to keep it steady, he pushed onwards, searching for the faintest hint of old magic.

All at once the forest seemed to snap back into place around him in time with the sharp yank to his core. A familiar cold, sinking sensation washes over him — like the Manor itself is scrutinizing his entire being like a bug trapped beneath a glass — and the gate slowly opens with a piercing creak that disrupts the stillness of the night. What little plants were still clinging to the gate's intricate ironwork snapped and tore as their stalks were forced in the wrong direction. The protests of the gate tapper off as it stops, open just enough for Draco to squeeze through, though just barely, as it snags on some of his fastens, and almost causes him to loose a button in the process.

For a undeterminable time afterwards, Draco just stands there. The reality of what he had just done joining the chaotic fray of his choices that weighed down his body and wore groves into the bones, with very much the same air as a smug Kneazel basking in the sun. Preemptively taunting him for his stupidity. Every muscle in his body was primed to flee— At first, he told himself, it was simply in case an Auror did show up. But as time dawdled onwards and that seemed less and less likely, he was once again forced to confront his own cowardice. 

Returning to the other side of the fence beckoned to him like a Siren's call. It would be so easy to just leave, sum this up to the lapse in his own judgement that it surely was. Go home, his mind coaxed, there's no need of this, it lied, you don't have to say goodbye yet, there's always tomorrow. 

Or the day after, or next week, or month, or year.

Or never.

No. 

No.

Draco inhaled sharply, the action making the top of his throat sting from the chill, and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, which he had closed at some unpinpointable time. It was a rather childish action, one that surely would've gotten him snapped at when he was younger, though presently he couldn't find it in himself to care, he just pressed harder until he could see stars fizzle in and out of existence, and the darkness behind his eyelids was flooded with static. This isn't what he would have wanted — Foolish, stubborn, man that he was, with his incorrigible bleeding heart that Draco had treasured so dearly. The very same that lead him to always be the hero, even until the end — for Draco to cling so tightly to his memory, replay every stolen moment, every word, every kiss, every soft lazy morning, as few and far in between as they were, to Harry.

What little of him Draco got to have, to the promise of more, had either of them been granted the chance.

That's what forces Draco to move, one unsteady step after the other. 

He owes it to Harry as much, if not more, than he owes it to himself, to finally get to say goodbye. 

So I was listening to a song called Lagtrain by Inabakumori yesterday (It's a wonderful song, you can listen to it here) And I hyper focused on one of the frames and went "Huh...Y'know I could see Siffrin here." And then, well, I tried to draw it! Here's the frame specifically:

And here's the piece I made from it (Spoiler warning, just in case!):

Featuring (from right to left) Siffrin, Loop, Mal Du Pays, and what is supposed to be Ghost Siffrin! I figured I could spin the original frame into the different versions of Siffrin, since there's only really four I could recall from the game! (I know the arms are a little funky, but I tried,,)

Helpless

"V-villain, I'm feeling c-cold."

Villain held civilian's hand tight, as they laid on the ground, world burning around them, a metal rod sticking out of their stomach. Villain almost barfed when they first saw the sight, rushing in to save them, only then realising that it was too late.

They wouldn't even need to be here if Hero had done their job properly.

Anger boiled from the bottom of their gut. But they decided to quell it for now, for civilian's sake.

"Shhhh, it's okay. I'm feeling cold too, it's just... cold outside."

Civilain attempts to laugh but it comes out as a painful groan, "You're... saying that when buildings are burning around us? I'm not... *cough* deaf you know..."

Villain sighs, looking at civilian fondly. Their eyes are closed, so they won't see them but villain would look anyway. Flashes of them having a friendly debate about some random topic in their tiny apartment flashed through villain's head, making their whole body hurt and scream.

Why did it have to be you? You're so brilliant, and you definitely had a bright future ahead but now... that future's disappearing and I can't do anything about it. No matter how much I may want to.

Villain kept turning around, scanning the scene, looking for an ambulance or any health personnel but no people were in sight. Except for the dead ones. They were itching to go and drag a health worker here if they had to, but they couldn't just leave civilian in this condition. What were the heroes doing?!

Villain felt helpless and they hated it.

"V-villain, are y-you here?"

Villain immediately focuses all of their attention back on civilian. "Of course I'm here, where else would I go?" They held civilian's hand tighter for emphasis but they didn't get any response. Their heart sank.

"Oh, okay. I just can't... feel a-nything anymore."

Villain tried their best not to cry. Not now.

"Look up at the sky, it looks so beautiful today." Villain tried to sound calm and happy, but they think it came out as something strained and croaky.

Civilian strains to open their eyes. Villain's heart falls further into whatever abyss that was now swallowing them whole.

"I- can't... I can't see."

Tears run down Civilian's face and that was the final straw. Villain's hands gently wipe away those tears, while fresh tears steadily glided down their own cheek.

"I'll describe it to you then- it looks just like your eyes when you wake up. You know that your eyes change colour when they're exposed to sunlight right? That's beautiful too of course-

Civilian puts the last of their strength squeezing Villain's hand. Tight. Villain looks down at them now, their eyes barely open, but still open.

"You're beautiful too *wheeze* Villain."

Their hand goes limp in villain's hand.

No no no no no-

"Civilian, hey... hey! Wake up, come on. I'll go look for an ambulance right now, I'll drag the hero here if I have to-

Civilian didn't open their eyes again.

Villain finally let themselves sob. It sounded pained. Dreadful. Hopeless. They didn't think they could even make such a sound.

It seems like their sounds of agony had attracted someone else to the scene.

"Villain, what are you-

Hero shuts up immediately after seeing Civilian's lifeless body behind Villain.

Oh God no-

Villain was standing in front of them in a flash, Civilian's body held in their arms. Villain didn't have to say anything. Hero understood- their eyes were screaming at them.

Where the hell were you? Why weren't you here?

Hero could answer, but they didn't think any reason could justify them not being there. For civilian. For failing to protect them. For failing to complete their duty. And for breaking villain's trust. So they just stood there.

Villain seethed, and the next words that came out of their mouth made them feel like everything else that they had ever said before was a lie-

"I'm going to kill you."

Hey everyone! I'm sorry it's been a while since I posted. I just keep second guessing myself so I never end up posting, does that make sense? And yeah, this was meant to be a prompt but well, as always, I ended up making this long again haha. Hope you all like this <3

(Thanks so much for the support even when I'm not posting actively, you all are amazing💕 )