Can u explain this Anish Kapoor thing I keep seeing it on Tumblr and I have no idea what started this or what it's about
So basically this is the pettiest argument in art that I have ever seen and I love it.
So, Anish Kapoor is a famous artist who got the rights to use Vantablack. The blackest black in the whole world. And he’s the only one who can use it. He refuses to share the rights and flaunts it off.
So, artist Stuart Semple from the UK forbade Kapoor from using the world’s pinkest pink (just named Pink) which he created, in retaliation to Kapoor getting sole rights to the Vantablack. It got to the point where Semple’s website made you actually confirm that you are not Anish Kapoor when buying the pigment for the pink paint.
Eventually, Kapoor posts a picture on his Instagram of his middle finger covered in the bright pink pigment with the little pot of Pink next to his hand. Semple got pissed the hell off. Now, Kapoor is banned from using the world’s glitteriest glitter as well by Semple,
Sometime later, Stuart Semple posted a video of his fingers in a peace sign covered in Vantablack. He somehow got his hands on it. Also, due to recent perfection by Semple out of spite for Kapoor, he perfected the pigments for the world’s yellowest yellow and the world’s greenest green, both of which are- you guessed it- forbidden to be bought and used by Anish Kapoor.
This artist feud has no end in sight and is so petty. I live for it.
So. I don’t usually involve myself in petty fandom feuds but HOLY. SHIT. This is pissing me off. We’ve gone through 100+ chapters and people STILL don’t understand Lizzy’s character? They manage to rationalize Kuroshitsuji enough that they give Sebastian feelings even though he’s a hungry demon who made a pact with a 10 year old boy because he sensed his soul was broken, desperate, and malleable to more further corruption. They manage to do all this for a DEMON but can’t find it in their hearts to apply that analytical mindset to a darling 14 year old girl whose human emotions drive her every decision?
“She’s selfish! She only wants to make Ciel smile so things can go back to the way they were!”
“She doesn’t understand him! She’s always trying to change him, that bitch!”
“She’s so ANNOYING. Like, her voice!”
“Oh my god, did you see her standing there in the third panel? Like who does that! RUDE.”
So in an attempt to bring some basic level of cognition into these…“arguments” I’m going to go through them one by one and you can disagree if you like. But please refrain from using derogatory terms, unsubstantiated arguments, and referrals to “proofs” that are nothing more than blog posts made from those who wish to paint Kuroshitsuji in terms more favorable to them and whatever else they ship.
1. “She’s selfish! She only wants to make Ciel smile so things can go back to the way they were!”
Elizabeth Midford is, by far, the LEAST selfish person in the whole damn manga. This girl spent most of her childhood loathing the physical strength she possessed because the person she loved didn’t like it. She chose to shoulder her anguish by HERSELF because she didn’t want to burden Ciel (or her brother or her mother or her father) with her personal worries.
Lizzy is also incredibly aware that things can NEVER go back to the way they were. She expresses this concern to Sebastian when she admits that she wishes Ciel would talk to her more and that the only reason she overdoes her cuteness is because she wants to see Ciel smile. Why are comedians so outlandish and over-the-top? Because they want to see their audience laugh. Lizzy took that mindset and applied it to her goal of cheering Ciel up. Furthermore, the Easter egg chapter proved ONCE AND FOR ALL that Lizzy is perfectly aware of the change that’s occurred within Ciel—that he’s no longer the happy, smiling boy of years past.
Lizzy KNEW Ciel didn’t remember why the egg was nostalgic and if she was really selfish, she would’ve thrown a fit—had a full on temper tantrum then and there but instead, what does she do? She outwits the game master himself. Lizzy sets up an Easter egg hunt that she made up completely off the cuff, wears a happy smile throughout the entire event, and when Ciel hands her the egg what does Lizzy do? She laughs and wishes that the egg would bring CIEL lots of happiness. HOW IS SHE SELFISH? HOW. Selfish would be throwing a tantrum because Ciel didn’t remember the way things used to be. Selfish would be bringing up the past EVERY FRIGGIN SECOND. Selfish would be forcing Ciel to comply to the shared etiquette of their past.
Instead, Lizzy is SELFLESS. Instead of throwing a tantrum, Lizzy wishes Ciel happiness. Instead of bringing up the past, Lizzy tries to ignore it because she knows it makes Ciel uncomfortable—that’s why she’s never asked him about “that month” even though she desperately wants to know what’s happened to the boy she loves. And instead of forcing Ciel to behave the way he used to (sweet, sympathetic, loving), Lizzy is learning to accept him for who he is now—how many times has Ciel ignored her? How many times has Ciel left the country without telling her? How many times has Ciel purposely hidden things from Lizzy and then disregarded her concern with a wave of his hand? Lizzy is learning to accept this new Ciel—this closed off, distant Ciel because she KNOWS something terrible must have happened to him. Because instead of crying and whining like she did at the beginning of Black Butler when Ciel refused to take off his ring, Lizzy has learned to ACCEPT. And that, my dears, is called character development—something Ciel hasn’t undergone since the beginning of this manga.
2. “She doesn’t understand him! She’s always trying to change him, that bitch!”
There is NOTHING about Ciel that Lizzy is trying to change. If anything, it’s Sebastian who’s always prodding and provoking Ciel to become darker—more cruel, less empathetic, and more focused on getting his revenge. She threw a party for Ciel at the beginning of the manga because she thought that might make him smile—fun colors, fine music, seeing Bard and Finny crossdressing…heck, even Ciel took a page from Lizzy’s book when he dressed the F5! It probably took Lizzy HOURS to choose Ciel’s outfit, decorate the mansion, coordinate the whole event and it probably hurt like hell to see Ciel dismiss all her hard work so casually.
As a reader, it’s easy for us to say “HELLO. Doesn’t she know? He was abused and tortured by the cultists! He made a deal with the devil to escape that wretched place, how could this dumb broad think a simple party would cheer him up?!”
And the answer is…Lizzy has NO IDEA what happened to Ciel. (Hindsight is a gift, ain’t it?) She has no idea that he became so desperate to escape the cult that he sold his soul to a starving demon. Lizzy is does not know what Ciel went through and this boy is doing his damnedest to make sure Lizzy never knows. Because he wants to keep her pure, ignorant, and encased in light.
People always point to the party chapter as Lizzy trying to “change” Ciel but all she wanted was to put a smile on his face. She even admits that she overdoes it at times but everything she’s done comes from a good place. Everyone wants to see their loved ones happy and Ciel is the boy Lizzy loves best of all—of course she’s going to try everything under the sun to try and put a little smile on his face.
And Lizzy DOES understand Ciel, to the best of her ability. She’s never once asked Ciel (or Sebastian) about his time in the cult. She uses games to figure out Ciel’s secrets. (Ex: Easter egg hunt—this is where Lizzy knew Ciel was only pretending to remember their Easter tradition and where Lizzy’s suspicions were confirmed—something life changing and drastic DID happen to Ciel during “that month.”) She doesn’t force Ciel to take her to public events because, let’s face it—as the only daughter to a high ranking marquess that serves directly under the queen, Lizzy’s bound to be invited to dozens of soirees a week. And as a gentlewoman of the aristocracy, Lizzy’s going to need an escort. In Victorian times, it was typical that the fiancé escort his bride-to-be but here is Lizzy—sweet, traditional Lizzy—ignoring precedent because she KNOWS Ciel dislikes social events. (Keep in mind, this is information being pieced together by a 14 year old girl who’s been taught to be an “unknowing angel.”)
Elizabeth understands the change that’s come over Ciel, knows that he won’t be interested in the same things he was interested in before. But in spite of Ciel shutting her out, in spite of Sebastian’s constant presence, Lizzy is still working her hardest to try and bring some happiness to Ciel’s life because she loves him. She loves him so much that Bravat was able to take Lizzy’s desperation and devotion and use it against her.
Let’s not forget—the reason Lizzy continued seeing Bravat was because she thought he could help her make Ciel happy.
3. “She’s so ANNOYING. Like, her voice!”
I think this is the most common excuse people use to not like Lizzy. They critique her high levels of energy (even though Finny and Soma are equally vivacious), her love for beautiful things (even though Ciel is probably the vainest little boy in the whole of London, England), and the fact that she “doesn’t understand” Ciel (counterargument already presented above).
You know, in a lot of ways I see Lizzy as a Scarlett O’Hara figure—strong, determined, unflinching in the face of danger. But also very, very misunderstood. Lizzy only behaves with an exorbitant amount of energy because she wants to make Ciel happy —to bring some sunlight into his gloomy, pessimistic world. The end results are not always successful but the intention behind Lizzy’s every action is pure—as pure as Soma’s decision to help Ciel simply because he saw him as a friend. Lizzy puts on a vaudeville for Ciel in a misguided attempt to help him heal and move on from whatever is tormenting him.
4. “Oh my god, did you see her standing there in the third panel? Like who doesn’t that! RUDE.”
Black Butler is told from the perspectives of Ciel and Sebastian. We only get brief glimpses into Lizzy’s psyche so it’s impossible for us to codify her completely. What I do know is that some people out there will always hate on Lizzy—whether it’s because they dislike her voice (well that’s her VA’s fault, not Lizzy’s) or because Lizzy “gets in the way” of someone’s ship. I’m not here to reason with those who refuse to be reasoned with. This is me expressing my adoration for a flawed, misguided, but pure of heart character whose unconditional love for a changed, callous boy makes me admire her all the more.
Oddly enough, people seem to relate “understanding” a person to “knowing exactly what happened to them to make them this way.” And to me, this is really giving Lizzy an unfair shake. By this definition, Lizzy could never understand Ciel because she doesn’t know what happened to him in that one month that’s made him the way he is (reason: he flat out didn’t tell her and uses every opportunity to prevent her from finding out. Ciel is so concerned about protecting Elizabeth’s goodness/light/purity that on the Campania, when Sebastian was slaughtering all those Bizarre Dolls, Ciel shielded Lizzy from seeing the carnage because he wants her to remain innocent and unaware). To quote Albert Einstein, “Any fool can know. The point is to understand.”
I think Lizzy understands Ciel—she can sense the pain, the resignation, the drive towards something greater that Ciel is working towards. This is best exemplified in an early chapter (after Ciel’s fallen asleep and Sebastian is serving her tea) where Lizzy expresses sorrow that Ciel won’t tell her anything. Sebastian comforts Lizzy by telling her that while “It’s a difficult question for me as a butler…[I can tell you] one thing…He [Ciel] was able to spend a nice, free day with everyone.” To which Lizzy retorts that she wishes she could believe that. Elizabeth may not know what happened to Ciel during that month, but she understands.
This then brings me to my next and final point—people wanting Lizzy to “accept” the situation by stepping aside and leaving the manga. Well, to quote Michael J. Fox: “Acceptance doesn’t mean resignation; it means understanding that something is what it is and that there’s got to be a way through it.” — And this is exactly what Lizzy’s doing. She’s fighting for a way to help Ciel, to help him move on, to do anything that might benefit it. Lizzy’s accepted the situation but she’s certainly not resigned for it—Lizzy’s a fighter, and she’ll continue fighting for the boy she loves until the very end.
Further discussion is encouraged. But, please remember: refrain from using derogatory terms, unsubstantiated arguments, and referrals to “proofs” that are nothing more than blog posts made from those who wish to paint Kuroshitsuji in terms more favorable to them and whatever else they ship. I am not disparaging other characters or ships—I merely ask that you don’t refer to those “did you know” blog posts that’s caused so much strife in the Black Butler fandom. Thank you.
I’m sure all of
these things have been said, and by people far more eloquent and
capable than I, but I felt the need to say them again. Thoughts below are, as usual, heavily Jedi-critical in general but particularly so of Kenobi and Yoda.
Obi-Wan Kenobi tried
his damned best to manipulate Luke into believing the things he
believed, and into doing the things he wanted him to do. He and Yoda
lied to Luke repeatedly, in an attempt to distance him from his
connection to Vader and in hopes that he would ultimately reject that
connection before he even knew it was there, and kill Vader for them.
Kenobi’s first attempt at distancing Luke from Vader was creating a
persona for him in some form of “other”. “Darth Vader, who
was a pupil of mine before he turned to evil, helped the Empire hunt
down and destroy the Jedi Knights. He betrayed and murdered your
father.” He’s attempting to plant seeds of hate in Luke, a
bias against Vader that Kenobi is hoping will grow so that he can use
it to his advantage later on.
And later on it
does. Kenobi knows he will
become a Force ghost. And he deliberately ensures that Luke is
watching when he raises his lightsaber and allows Vader the finishing
blow. You can’t tell me that was not a very deliberate and
calculated attempt to make the seeds of hatred he already planted in
Luke to grow. He succeeds quite well, but things backfire on him when
he and Yoda both fail to take into account that Luke’s protective
feelings towards his friends will win out over his tenuous new
devotion to learning the Jedi ways.
When Luke left
Dagobah for Bespin to save Han and Leia, he was disobeying and
rejecting the high-minded distant “feelings are bad, m’kay”,
that the Jedi of old espoused. Both Yoda and Kenobi ideally would
have wanted Luke to adopt that mindset, but also be fueled by
some sort of motivation to kill Vader. They tried to have their
proverbial cake and eat it too, by presenting Vader as a being worth
both hatred and murderous intentions, but also by stating “Anger,
fear, aggression. The Dark Side are they.” As if they wanted some
sort of insurance policy that if they couldn’t get Luke to do their
bidding one way, then maybe
some other way would work.
then Yoda has the balls
to tell Luke “Unexpected this is, and unfortunate” when Luke
confronts Yoda after Vader has told Luke that he is his father. And
even further balls to pretend like his explanation of “that you
rushed to face him, that not ready for the burden were you” is even
half of a sufficient
excuse. Yeah, not ready for the burden. As in, wasn’t sufficiently
Jedi-brain-washed enough to be totally a-okay with the thought of
murdering his own father that he’s been wanting and looking for his
entire life. Yoda would have been perfectly happy having Luke stay to
brain-washed further and let Han and Leia die, because I mean, after
all, they’re simply nothing more than superfluous attachments and
would only get in the way of Luke’s potential Jedi-ness. He’d
have been perfectly happy to have extra time to enforce the proper
warrior-monk mindset into Luke so that the idea of murdering someone
that he shares a deep connection with suddenly turns
into something tragically
noble rather than shocking and
repugnant. Because letting his friends die through purposeful
inaction and deliberately killing his father is
supposed to purge him of unapproved attachments and fulfill the “last
hope” for the Jedi.
it’s not the fate
of the galaxy’s people in general that concerns Yoda and Kenobi.
It’s not even the fate of the Force. It’s the survival of the
Jedi Order. They equate the
Jedi with all that is Good and Right and Pure, and all else be damned
if they can’t survive. Luke was their “last hope” because of
his heritage and his power in the Force, and if he failed then they
intended to conscript his Force-sensitive sister as a
contingency plan. Only
Force-sensitive people can be Jedi, after all, and in their mind if
the Jedi die out, then nothing good could possibly
come out of the rest
of the galaxy.
pinning their plans on Luke
backfired. Yoda was right
in that Luke was too old to begin the training – he had already
learned that his decision to care for and love people in his life and
want to protect them meant more than any vague and distant dogma,
meant more than some will of
or balance to a
mysterious and impersonal Force. No amount of Yoda spouting “you
must unlearn what you have learned” could recondition Luke.
confronted by Emperor Palpatine on the second Death Star, Luke throws
away his lightsaber – the symbol of the Jedi, the symbol of their
authority and power. The same symbol that Obi-Wan Kenobi had
chastised Anakin Skywalker about when he told him “this lightsaber
is your life”. And immediately after he throws away his lightsaber,
he claims, proudly, that he is
“a Jedi, like my father before me”.
I read an awful lot
into that line. I see Luke defining the Jedi as something very
different from what they were. He doesn’t define it the way the
Jedi Council defined it, he doesn’t see being a Jedi as something
embroiled in politics or wallowing in dogma and ritual. Luke is
reaching for a higher meaning than the Jedi Order we saw of old. He
knows very little of the Dark Side, and nothing of the Sith. He’s
rejecting the petty generations-long feud between two Force-adhering
sects and embracing the only thing he knows and feels right in front
of him – that he loves his father, whoever he is and whatever his
name, and is willing to die defending him. He doesn’t see “Sith”,
he doesn’t see “Dark Side”, he doesn’t see “Destiny” or
“Fate” or “Jedi must win at all costs” or even “Maintain
some sort of hazily-defined ‘balance’ between two fabricated and
inadequately described sides of one supposed whole”. He just sees
someone he has come to care about that he wants to protect.
That’s it. That’s
what it boils down to. The higher meaning that the Jedi could never
seem to grasp was ridiculously simple, and it took a farmboy with
next to no knowledge of the Force and an innate tendency to question
authority to bring it out.
The Jedi Order
didn’t win the day at the end of RotJ. Luke did. Vader
did. And while Kenobi and Yoda seem to enjoy basking in some sort of
credit, it was Luke going against everything they ever taught him
that actually managed to do anything effective in the end.
I can only hope
that the new sequel trilogy won’t stomp all over that. I can only
hope that the new generation of Jedi that Luke was training had
nothing in common with the Jedi of old, that Luke was sparking
something new and simply calling it by an old name. I know my hopes
are probably going to be dragged through the proverbial mud if the
way Rebels and The Force Awakens are going is any indication, but
what else can I do. I’m the most optimistic pessimist I know.
trapped in an elevator for hours with your enemy x daddy jay
genre: smut. a tiny bit of fluff
It was hot, the elevator was practically steaming in the humid heat of the mid-summer night and it felt like you were trapped in a giant oven. You thought that the situation couldn’t get any worse but you were trapped with none other than your sworn enemy neighbor, Hoseok.
You had tried to get along with Hoseok, you had given him cookies when he first moved in 6 months ago, been stricken with how handsome he was and how lucky you, a shut-in with no other life but studying and working could be blessed with such a good-looking neighbor, but that was before his partying. He would party non-stop during weeknights, ruining your precious sleep schedule that you relied on to keep up a healthy work-school-social life balance and here he comes, determined to fuck it up. You decided that you hated him after the night that you had finally grown the courage to knock on his door and tell him to shut the fuck up and he just looked at you with a cocky smirk and a ‘how 'bout you join the party sweetheart?’ So you found the only way to get revenge was to be the loudest you could in the early morning hours, while he was trying to nurse a hangover after going to sleep at 4am you would wake up at 8am and clang around your house, getting ready for the day, making yourself breakfast in the loudest ways possible (making sure to drop at least one pan on the floor), and singing loudly and off-key in the shower. He would show up at your door, looking like utter shit, and look blearily at you wrapped in a towel and ask you to quiet the fuck down to witch you replied with your own cocky smirk and a 'how 'bout you join me for an early morning workout sweetheart?'
Small, petty, feuds is what fueled your relationship with Hoseok but you couldn’t deny that he was probably the sexiest person you had ever seen. You’re guilty pleasure was when you would be walking down the stairs and see him coming home from a workout, drenched in sweat, forehead showing, basketball shorts showing off his muscular shins.The looks didn’t outweigh the irritation though, you had to buy multiple sets of earplugs just so that you could get a decent amount of sleep and it was causing you massive amounts of stress.
So there you were, trapped in the elevator the night that you were going to go clubbing, looking sexy as hell with the one man you had mentally sworn yourself against. You were wearing a tight, short, black dress and had spent an hour on your hair and makeup to make yourself look just right in hopes of finding someone to take out your sexual frustration on like you had done the past weekends that you were free but all those plans got thrown in the trash. Hoseok was looking good, as per norm, dressed up in a suit for some reason and it was causing you some real moral issues. It made you curious as to why he was so dressed up, you both were college students and never really had a reason to get dressed up. You thought that he had looked good when he was done working out but this look was giving you heart palpitations.
"So, since it looks like it’s gonna be a while we may as well indulge in small talk so we aren’t dying of awkwardness so I’ll start, why are you so dressed up?“ you said, sitting down on the floor of the elevator after pressing the emergency button on the elevator and calling your apartment landlord, ending the call with her promising to get the maintenance men in there to help you get out.
"Oh, well I was supposed to go to a dinner with my father but I guess those plans are shit,” he said, sighing and sitting down across from you long legs brushing your bare ones. “Why are you so dressed up, I’m used to seeing you look like a pajama goblin and I’m just saying that I think you should try this look more often,"
"Well first of all, you usually see me when I’m yelling at you at midnight to be quiet so that’s why I look like shit, and second of all, I was supposed to be going to the club and meeting some friends but my plans have also been ruined,” you said, after that you got a phone call from your landlord, her telling you that it would be at least a couple of hours before the elevator would get fixed, apologizing profusely. “Welp Hoseok, looks like we’re stuck in here for another couple hours."
"Shit,” he said, looking down at his phone in frustration.
"Shit,“ you said laying down on the floor of the elevator, the heat of the small room making you start to sweat a bit and trying to find cool in the hard tile floors.
You stayed like that for a bit, feeling sweat gather in your scalp, looking at your phone for a bit but stopping once your battery got to 50%. Hoseok had removed his suit jacket and tie, and rolled up the sleeves to his white button-up making him look absolutely sinful. You were trying your best to talk yourself out of removing the tight-fitting dress that was now sticking to your body and making you uncomfortable but you didn’t want to give yourself or him any ideas.
You thought about all the things that you wanted to do to him to make him pay for the ways that he’d irritated you. You wanted to grind all over him, get him hot and bothered and then leave him hanging and watch him be desperate. You wanted him to give it to you hard, spank you until you couldn’t sit down to punish you for your teasing, just to shove his dick roughly into your greedy hole, slick from how turned on his hard smacks made you. You wanted to hear him lose himself in you, grunting and growling at how good and tight your hole was for him, feeling that sense of pride when he called you a 'good girl, such a good little slut, taking it so well.’
These thoughts caused a new wave of heat to crawl into your body, making your cheeks flush red and your body feel feverish.
"Hey are you okay? You’re looking like you’re going to die of a fever,” Hoseok said, looking up from his phone in worry, brows scrunched together in genuine concern.
"Yeah, it’s just this room is small and I’m in a tight dress,“ you said gesturing to your outfit and sighing in frustration, not being able to tell him the real reason you had flushed so red.
"If you want to take it off I definitely won’t mind sweetheart, I wouldn’t want you dying of heatstroke, then who would I have to tease?” He said winking at you and causing a wave of arousal to rush directly to your core. Taking off your dress sounded like a really debatable idea at that moment, you were going to be trapped in there for another few hours and you really didn’t want to be wearing that constricting thing anymore but you were wearing your sexiest black lingerie underneath and you were nervous about letting Hoseok see that much of you. You paused a few seconds and finally decided to rid yourself of the dress so you didn’t die.
"Okay, I’m going to take this off, but please don’t say anything,“ you said feeling a rush of nerves and excitement at the thought of Hoseok seeing your body. You reached back and pulled down the zipper for the tight dress, feeling like you could breath again, and slowly pulled it off while looking at anything other than Hoseok. You had it off and the tension in the air was a so thick you could cut it, the only sounds were Hoseok’s slightly heavier breathing and the soft elevator music.
"Oh my god sweetheart, you look so good, can I touch you?” You looked up at him and saw him pushing his bangs back, pupils blown out. He stuck his tongue out to moisten his lips and it drew your gaze to his beautifully plump lips and you thought about how much you wanted to push yours onto his and kiss him rough.
"Yes,“ you said breathlessly, then crashing into him,straddling your damp, panty-clad center over his crotch then bringing yourself into a kiss that was hard, teeth colliding in the most delicious of ways, you attached your teeth to his bottom lip and scraped it lightly, earning a groan. His hands were everywhere but where you needed them most, the curve of your breasts, your waist, your thighs, settling at your hips and griping harshly, adding more pressure to your weight on him. Your lips travelled down to his neck and collarbone, groaning into him while you left hot, wet kisses on him, marking him as yours. The feeling of grinding down on him was like nothing you had ever experienced, it was so hot in the room and you knew that his hands would leave marks but that made it better.
"God baby, you don’t know how many times I heard you getting fucked through the walls and wanted to come over and fuck you right, cause I know you’d be so good and wet for me, wouldn’t you baby? You act like such a good little girl but we both know that you love fucking and you love going hard don’t you? and I just want to give that to you, do you want that my sweetheart?” He growled into your ear, making you shiver at his dirty words, you’re mind was foggy and filled with bliss.
"Y-yes oh god yes please Hoseok,“ you said, feeling him give you a hard slap on your ass after you moaned your consent. Fuck, you were both so fucked out already and you hadn’t even really touched each other yet. He flipped you over onto your stomach over and pulled down your panties then stroked your pussy a couple times with his sinful fingers.
"You’re so wet already I can’t believe it,” he said bringing his fingers to his mouth and tasting you’re juices. “Now I’m going to spank you to get even every morning that you’ve made my life hell by opening the door in only a fucking towel and not letting me fuck your tight pussy so I have to go jack myself off by myseld in the early morning, is that alright babe?” He asked, rubbing your ass in small soothing circles, watching your pussy clench from behind around nothing at his erotic words.
"Yes, p-punish me Ho-“ you said, choking on your spit as he struck you the first time, smacking each cheek five times roughly, sometimes dipping his fingers into your increasingly wetter core and wiping your slick on your reddening cheeks.
"My girl is dirty isn’t she? getting so wet just from me spanking her, I wonder what would happen if I gave her naughty little pussy some attention?” He said roughly, flipping you back over and spreading open your thighs, looking like a man trapped in the desert dying from thirst and you are the oasis that he needs as he dives into you’re core. He was ravenous, licking up all of your juices before attacking your clit, smirking against you when he hears your whimpers of pleasure. He sucked on your clit until just as you were about to let go into your orgasm then he pulled back and began pressing soft kisses into your inner thighs, listening to your whines at being denied. “I can’t believe I waited this long to taste you,” he said in between kisses “I can’t believe I just sat in my apartment when other people were able to taste you, touch you, give you everything I want to” a wave of possessiveness came over him as he bit down a little too rough on you thigh then sucked on the same spot to leave hickies in his wake.
You then felt his hard bulge still trapped inside his suit pants, brush against your lower leg and was struck with the need to see it and give Hoseok the same kind of attention he was giving you. You pulled yourself up and pushed him back, undoing his belt buckle and pushing his pants and boxers down in one go, watching in awe as his dick smacked his lower stomach. His cock was long and hard and so, so beautiful, it was darker than the rest of his body, the head burning a bright red at the need for attention, it made your mouth water. You leaned forward and gave the tip and few hard kitten licks before letting yourself drool all over him so that you could touch him without any discomfort. You pushed him into your mouth, gripping what you couldn’t fit in your mouth with one hand and fondling his balls with the other. You started moving back and forth at a steady pace, feeling pride when you heard his soft moans, feeling him caress your hair, then pulling your hair tighter and harder guiding you to go at a faster pace. You slacked your jaw, keeping it open so that he could fuck himself wildly into your willing throat.
"You’re mouth feels so good baby, you’re such a good cocksucker for me, it’s like you were born for this,“ he groaned, head leaned back, eyed screwed shut in pleasure. His praise encouraged you to take his deeper, gagging a little but making him cry out at the sudden tightness, you felt like a child that had it’s pacifier taken away when he pulled you off of him. "I need you to stop or I won’t be able to last when I fuck you,” he says at your surprised look at him.
Just then you heard something that made your heart jump out of your chest. The sound of the elevator running, you both looked at each other in a slight panic, anxious to get back to either of your apartments quickly so he could fuck you good. You threw on your dress as he pulled up his pants in a haste, he tucked your panties into his pocket as he brushed his hands through his hair and picked up his suit coat as the elevator continued to ascend back up the your floor. The elevator dinged and you both rushed to the door to your apartment, your hands shakily trying to get the key in the lock unsuccessfully, Hoseok growing impatient and taking the keys from you, opening the door in one try. You practically broke down the door getting it open so fast and leading Hoseok into your bedroom, once you entered the room he practically ripped off your dress and pulled off his clothes hastily, grinning when he caught a glimpse of your reddened ass cheeks, proud of his handy work. You pushed him onto your bed after grabbing a condom from your side table and ripping it open. You slid it over his throbbing cock and positioned yourself over it, enjoying the slight stretch of his head at the entrance of your wet, needy, pussy. He grabbed your hands in a surprisingly intimate way, intertwining your fingers with his and pulled you slowly down onto his hardness.
"Hoseok you fill me up so good,“ you moaned, you felt so full, fuller than you had ever felt and it took you a moment to adjust to his size as you slowly started to move on top of him. He reached up and freed your breasts from your bra, gripping onto them as you started bucking wildly down onto his cock. You were going at a searing pace, addicted to the feeling of him brushing your g-spot, making you clench around him, wanting more, more of him. You leaned down and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breathing in his musky scent holding yourself up as he continued to fuck up into at full pace, you could feel your end approaching, he could sense it to, your walls were sporadically squeezing around his cock and it was so much.
"Y-you’re so hot and tight around my cock baby, taking it so good, you’re so good around my cock, mine,” Hoseok said, reaching in between your bodies to rub your clit frantically, causing you to hurtle faster toward your peak, he was getting close to, his thrusts became more sporadic and you could tell that he was losing himself in you. He pushed in a couple more times and hit your g-spot just right, you then toppled over your peak and were filled with ecstasy and satisfaction, the heat in your stomach spreading to your whole body. He came just after you, continuing to thrust into you while you both rode out your orgasms. Once you were both spent he pulled out, discarded to condom and laid down next to you, catching his breath. You were overcome with sleepiness as you reached out for him, he got up quickly and went to your bathroom that he caught a glimpse of earlier to get some of your makeup wipes, he returned to bed and softly stroked your face, making your eyes slip closed while he removed your now very messy makeup. He finished, threw the wipes away in the trash can next to your bed as he felt your arms wrap around him sleepily. He smiled softly at your antics and allowed himself to be pulled back into bed with you, his smile growing wider when you tucked your head into his neck and wrapped your arms around his waist and drifted off to sleep. He was starting to feel that same exhaustion, deciding to put off the questions of 'what are we now?’ until tomorrow and just enjoying the moment.
A/n: I wrote all this at 3am last night so I’m sorry if it’s a mess Jung Hoseok jus makes me feel some typa way this was inspired by this look, check out my masterlist!
Summary: Reader and Lin have the same routine every day. Go to school, bicker all throughout 1st period, ignore each other for the rest of the day until seventh period where they bicker again, repeat. This keeps happening until one day they have to work together to save the arts program at their school. Their routine is very different after that.
Warnings: high school bullies, teen!lin being a jerk, reader being a jerk, just everyone being a jerk
You walk into your first period class on a Monday morning during your senior year with a coffee in hand, which is the only thing keeping you from keeling over from exhaustion. You say hello to your English teacher, and sit in the back row like you do everyday.
You grab your books out of your backpack and lay your head down on the desk, like you did every morning.
And just like every morning. Lin came in singing Les Mis at the top of his lungs which makes the girls in your class swoon. Once upon a time, hearing him sing would have made you do the same thing, but now all it makes you want to do is barf.
For those who don’t know it yet, Anish Kapoor is suing Stuart Semple
And yes it’s totally ridiculous
This was supposed to be a funny thing and Semple even defended Anish but hey he chose to make a really shitty move and turn this serious
“Every choice you ever made; every path you’ve
ever taken – the man you are today … is your memory of Eurus.”
Sorry, but no, Mycroft. This is not true. Sherlock may have been influenced by a lot of things but he cannot have become the man he is today just because of a non-existent memory. If he did not remember Eurus for decades, it is not possible that she has completely shaped his life.
However, there are indeed things that may have shaped him:
a manipulative brother who told him that caring was not advantage, that all hearts are broken. Who used “trigger words” to “monitor” his mental state.
the absence of the parents in Sherlock’s life.
Today I would like to concentrate on the second aspect although it cannot be wholly separated from the first.
Until TEH we had no idea the Holmes parents were still alive. Mrs Holmes had been mentioned exactly once in ASiP:
M: We have more in common than you like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply
childish. People will suffer … and you know how it always upset Mummy. SHERLOCK: I upset her? Me? SHERLOCK: It wasn’t me that upset her, Mycroft.
Past tense, both times. So she could have been dead. The father was not mentioned at all. In ASIB, however, we got this:
MYCROFT: I’ll be mother.
SHERLOCK: And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell.
This is not about serving tea. This is about a dominant older brother who for some reason assumed the role of a parent. But why?, we asked ourselves. Did they lose their parents when they were young? (There are virtually hundreds of fanfics where at least one parent is dead).
And then, in TEH, we learned that they were alive and happy, doing sightseeing, line dancing, and attending musicals. We also learned that - other than their sons - the parents were completely ordinary. Nice, but not brilliant.
In HLV we learned that Mycroft used to call Sherlock stupid when they were children, an opinion the parents obviously shared:
MYCROFT: Such a disappointment.
YOUNG SHERLOCK: I’m not stupid.
MYCROFT: You’re a very stupid little boy. MYCROFT: Mummy and Daddy are very cross …
Later in the episode, however, we get a family idyll, a lovely bumbling father and mother who threatens to take revenge on whoever shot her boy. Moreover, the mother suddenly has become a brilliant ex-scientist.
And do not get me started on TFP. Here we get a family ruled by a mysterious uncle who had so far been characterised by cross-dressing and by Mycroft who was thirteen when disaster struck. They took away Eurus, they created the fake death scenario, they locked her up in a cold grey high-tech fortress, they convinced the parents never to mention their daughter again …
What the hell is it with those parents? They obviously accepted that their daughter was locked up as a five-year-old, they did not insist on finding a missing little boy, they accepted that their younger son invented a new past for himself, they let their other son control and supervise him for decades …
And finally some questions:
Why did Mycroft assume the role of a parent for Sherlock?
Why did the parents not insist on a police investigation of Victor’s disappearance (if they had done so, he surely would have been found)
Why did Sherlock take drugs?
Was Eurus medically treated in any reasonable and compassionate way? If not, why? She had parents. Their permission would have been needed, not the orders of an uncle and a teenage brother.
Why did Mrs Holmes, a mathematician, write a book with a title taken from physics and a content from medicine?
Why do we not get any information about Mr Holmes except that he is nice, slightly forgetful, and still keen on his wife?
You gasp as your boyfriend gently sucks at your neck. “Philip,” you moan.
“Shh,” he scolds. “We don’t want your father to hear us, do we?”
You shake your head. “No, sir.”
He smirks. “That’s my girl.” He lowers his head to your neck and continues nipping at it. You roll your head back, exposing more of your neck to him. He gently pushes you back to your bed. Your knees are the first to hit, causing you to fall back. He leans over you and pulls his shirt off. You gently bit your lip at the sight of his toned chest. “Like what you see?”
You bat your eyelashes. “Yes, very much, sir.”
He softly bites your earlobe, before pulling your shirt over your head. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispers. He quickly unhooks your bra and- your dad walks in.
“Dad!” you screech, pulling the bed sheets over your chest.
“(Y/N),” he scolds. “Philip!”
Philip slides off you as you glance down.
“(Y/N), do you care to explain?” your dad asks.
You shake your head. “No, not really.”
He turns to Philip. “How about you, Mr. Hamilton? Do you want to explain? Or do I have to bring your father down here?”
“I-well-we just-I was-it’s not-” Philip stammers.
“Both of you get dressed and meet me in my office,” your dad commands.
“Yes, sir,” you answer in unison.
As soon as your dad shuts the door, you turn to Philip. “I am so so sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“It’s okay. None of this is your fault. They were going to find out eventually.” He gently pecks your lips. “It’s okay.”
You and Philip head out of your room, down to your father’s office. The door is open, letting you watch him talk to Philip’s dad on the phone.
“I don’t care what you’re doing; you need to come over.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Trust me, I don’t want you here. I wouldn’t call you unless it were an emergency.” He slams his fist against the desk. “Goddamnit, Hamilton! Your son was on my daughter!” There is a brief pause before he hangs up the phone. “You two. Here. Now.”
You both silently obey and sit in front of his desk.
“I can’t believe you two! How long has this been going on?”
“Almost a year,” you mutter. Your dad is about to continue his rant, but someone rings the doorbell. “Stay here,” your dad commands.
“This better be good, Jefferson!” Secretary Hamilton yells as he walks in. His face falls when he sees you and his son. He cautiously brings a chair behind the desk and sits next to your father, making this feel like you had to go to the principal in school.
“Pa,” Philip starts.
“Don’t start with me,” Secretary Hamilton objects.
You and Philip both cast your eyes down. You grab his hand for comfort.
“I walk into my daughter’s room to find your son crawling over her, like some animal,” your dad explains.
Secretary Hamilton stands up. “Are you saying that this is my son’s fault? Because if your daughter is anything like you, then she would be the one to trick him.”
Your dad scoffs. “Please, my daughter wouldn’t be caught dead with your son.”
Philip finally gets enough. “Pa, I don’t care if you don’t like Jefferson. I love (Y/N) more than life itself. If the two of you can’t look passed your petty feud, then-then-”
You pick up where he left off. “Then I hope you’re happy. I hope you’re happy that you ruined your children’s lives because you were acting like children.”
You start crying and run up to your room, leaving the three men calling after you.
“Then I hope you’re happy. I hope you’re happy that you ruined your children’s lives because you were acting like children,” (Y/N) says before bursting into tears and running to her room.
“(Y/N), wait!” The three of us call in unison.
Vice President Jefferson glares at my father. “Look what you did! ”
Pa starts yelling. “What I did?! How could I have caused this?! You’re the one who-”
“Stop it! Both of you!” I scream. “Did you listen to a word either of us said?!”
I don’t wait for them to respond. I run up to her room and open the door, knowing she wouldn’t have locked it. I see her sitting on the floor, resting her head on the bed, crying.
“Shh, baby girl,” I coo. “Shh, it’ll be okay. It’s going to be okay.” I engulf her in a hug and let her cry into my chest. I hate that I’m not able to comfort her. All because our fathers had different political beliefs. She pulls away from me. “You-” she hiccups- “you should go.”
“(Y/N/N)? Are you sure?”
She sniffles and stands up. “Y-yeah. You sh-should go. I d-on’t want to c-cause any more tr-trouble.”
“You haven’t caused any trouble.”
“But- wh-what happened-”
I grab her shoulders and look into her eyes. “I don’t care what they say. Okay? I love you. That’s all that matters.”
I wrap my arms around her and rub a hand down her back. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Her tears won’t stop, no matter what I say. I lay with her on her bed until she falls asleep. I kiss her forehead and head back down to her father’s office. I stop just outside and hear a hushed conversation between our fathers.
“If your son-” Jefferson starts.
“If my son didn’t go up to her, who knows how she would be now.”
“We still don’t know how she is,” her dad points out.
“You didn’t bother to go check on her.”
“I-” for once, the vice president is speechless.
Second Person POV
It’s hard for you to open your eyes, but you do. You see your dad slowly running his fingers over your hair. You sniffle. “You sent him away, didn’t you?”
He pursues his lips. “(Y/N/N), listen, I know you have feelings for him, but he isn’t good for you.”
Instead of following your instincts and yelling at him, you reply, “How would you know if he’s good for me?”
“I’m your father,” he explains, “and all I want to do is protect you. I can’t stand the thought of some boy hurting you.”
You sit up. “With that logic, you’ll never let me date anyone.”
He chuckles. “That may be true but esp-”
“Especially not a Hamilton.” You sigh. “I know. I get it, but Philip’s just so-so Philip.”
It wasn’t unusual for you to talk to your dad about boys. You had always been closer to your dad, even before your mom died. When you were little, he would read bedtime stories to you and play games with you. You know he only wants what’s best for you, with you being his youngest, living daughter, but it feels like he only wants what’s best for him. You sit in silence for a few minutes before he turns to you. “You really love him?”
You nod. “More than anything.”
Your dad gives you a bittersweet smile. “I guess, I’m going to have to let you go sooner or later. At least, this way, I work with his father.”
You smile for the first time since your dad found you with Philip. “Are you saying-”
“He has my blessing.”
You jump up and hug his neck. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” You kiss his cheek.
He looks down at you. “Why are you staring at me? You should be talking to him.”
You kiss his cheek one more time before running to grab your phone and text Philip.
“What in the hell was that?!” my father yells. “What in the hell were you doing with her?”
“Pa, it was just me and (Y/N/N). It wasn’t like we were hurting you,” I mumble.
“You were fucking Jefferson’s daughter!”
“It wasn’t like that! I swear!”
“Bullshit.” He throws the door open. “Eliza, sweetheart, would you mind coming down to my office for a moment. Philip and I have something we would like to discuss with you.” His tone gets progressively angrier.
Ma runs down the stairs. “Is something wrong?” She immediately grabs my arms to check for any type of injury. Pa rolls his eyes and slams his office door.
“Our son was having sex with (Y/N) Jefferson. Thomas Jefferson’s daughter,” he explains.
“He’s nineteen, Alexander.”
“I don’t care how old he is! He was still with (Y/N). She’s no good for him.” He sits behind his desk.
“She’s perfect!” I yell. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me!”
“She’s no good for you!” Pa objects.
“You never met her! If you did you would realize how amazing she is!” I’m on the verge of tears. Watching the love of my life cry and having my pa insult her is really taking its toll on me.
A wave of guilt rushes over his face. “Do you really believe that?”
“I really do. I really, really do.”
Ma comes over to me and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Then go to her.”
I don’t ask any questions. I just start running to her house. Once I get about halfway, I feel my phone vibrate.
💘(Y/N/N)💘: Meet me by our tree
Me: Anything you say
When I get to the park, I follow the trail until it reaches the woods. I keep walking until I reach a clearing with a large cork tree and abandoned cottage in the middle. I see her sitting under the cork tree.
Second Person POV
The second you see Philip, you run over to him. You jump up and hug him. He wraps his arms under your legs and kisses you with much more passion and love than he ever has. When you pull away, you rest your forehead on his. “Good news, I presume,” you say. He presses his lips to yours. “The best.”
He gently sets you down and follows to you the cottage. You giggle and shut the door behind him.
You found this spot ages ago. When you were little, your sister would take you through the woods in the park. You would wonder off every once in a while. Ever since you and Philip started dating, this would be your hideout.
He smiles as you lead him up the creaky staircase. You lead him into one of the back rooms. The window had broken before you found the place, letting the sunlight shine through the trees onto the bed. He sits down on the bed and pulls you onto his lap. “I love you so so much.” He nuzzles his face into your neck.
“Not nearly as much as I love you,” you giggle.
“Doubtful,” he retorts, pulling you down with him so that you’re laying on his chest.
He smirks. “Prove it. Prove you love me more than I love you.”
FLUFFY SMUT ALERT!!!
You press your lips against his. His lips move in sync yours as his arm wraps around your waist. You roll over and straddle him. When you pull away, Philip smirks up at you. You pull your shirt over your head and throw it. Not caring where it lands. Philip’s shirt soon follows. He unhooks your bra and tosses it aside. He gently fondles your breasts, while you remove a condom from his back pocket.
“You planned for this?” You chuckle.
“I’m always ready-” he brings his lips so they brush your ear “-for you.”
Even more eager than before, you remove your pants, then Philip’s. You smile at the silhouette of his erection through his underwear. “All this? For me?”
He runs his fingers under your panties and over your clit. “All this? For me?” He mocks.
You pull off his underwear before taking your own off. You teasingly roll the condom onto him. “Ready?”
He grabs your hips. “Only if you are.”
You kiss him as you position yourself over him. You slowly slide down. Although you and Philip have been dating for a while, it’s been quite a while since you have been this intimate. You had almost forgotten how big he is.
The only sounds that fill the room are labored breathing, curses, and names. You come at the same time, screaming each other’s names. Not concerned with how close you are to a public park or that anyone can walk in at any moment.
You slide off him and lay next to him, chastely kissing him. He smiles and pulls off the condom. Neither of you moves. You just lay there for a few minutes.
He gently kisses your head and stands up. “Let’s get going, baby girl.”
You tug on his arm. “I don’t wanna.”
He chuckles and pulls you up. “You don’t want anyone finding us here. It would be quite the scandal.”
“Philip, everything we do is part of a scandal.”
He laughs and throws your bra and shirt at you. “That may be true, but although I love you with all my heart, I would really hate to have our naked pictures all over the news.”
You playfully roll your eyes. “Fine.”
He finishes dressing and looks at your still half-naked body. “What are you waiting for?”
You blush. “Have you found my panties?” you mumble.
He lets out a loud laugh before helping you look. He stands at the broken window and calls you over to him. “Found ‘em.”
You blush even more than you thought you were capable of. He rubs your back. “I’ll get them. But I get to keep them.”
You smirk. “You act like that’s a punishment.”
“Would you like one?”
“Depends, what did you have in mind?”
He kisses you roughly, pushing you back on the bed. His hand gently brushes across your heat, before he pulls away. “There’s your punishment.”
You’re left dumb-founded as he walks down the stairs of the old cottage and leaves you alone. You mutter a “fuck you” before pulling your jeans on and following him. You catch up with him at the edge of the park. He already deposed of the condom.
END OF FLUFFY SMUT
You lace your fingers with his, as he leads you back to your father’s house, gently kissing you on your doorstep with no fear of your father knowing about him. When you get on the other side of the door, you smile. It’s nice not to have to worry about your forbidden love.
After I saw the post pointing out that Stuart Semple isnt just making his products because of a petty feud, and that people should take him more seriously, I actually felt pretty guilty for reblogging the Anish Kapoor VS Stuart Semple memes
But then I took a look at Semple’s Twitter and
Guys I might be wrong but I think the number one fan of the memes has been Stuart Semple all along
Consider: Klance demigod AU. The Fire God and the Ocean God despise each other and are constantly fighting. Their petty feuds spread to their children, Keith and Lance, who argue because of their conflicting heritage. Over time though, the two rivals become lovers. The Flame and Ocean Gods see this turnaround and are shocked, but decide that they need to put aside their differences. BONUS: Lance is also descended from the God of the Hearth, and subconciously makes himself and others feel at home
Ok but think about this. I’ve seen several fics and art about Credence being turned into a child to save his life, but what about if Percival was the one who was turned into a child? @funkzpiel thoughts?
After Grindelwald broke into his mind to steal his identity, Percival’s mind started to shut down in order to preserve his sanity. Grindelwald wasn’t gentle in his prodding, and he took his time and great pleasure in searching out every corner of Percival’s mind, leaving imprints of himself all over. A lesser man couldn’t have possibly survived that, and while Percival did survive, he wasn’t whole.
He’s just a blank slate when the Aurors find him; he doesn’t see them, doesn’t speak to them, probably doesn’t know what his name is and is incapable of casting any magic. They don’t know if it’s because he has forgotten how or because he’s just so broken that there is no magic anymore.
They take him to the best wizarding hospital in New York and get the best team on hand to see to Percival. His people are worried and scared but won’t admit it, but what if, what if they can’t fix whatever is wrong with him? What if he remains a broken man for the rest of his life? One of the younger Aurors lets out a choked sob, and they unconsciously move closer together, trying to draw comfort from one another. The Aurors aren’t necessarily the easiest people to work with; they’re all good people, granted, but they have their own strong personalities and someone is always fighting with someone else and they may not be the best of friends, but their concern for their boss’s well-being is far more important than petty feuds or overblown egos. Madame Picquery finds them huddled in a corner of the hospital corridor with their heads bowed down in a silent prayer.
When the healers finally emerge from the room, they speak in hushed tones with Madame Picquery, whose tanned face turns a significant shade of white. She gives them a brisk nod and the next time everyone sees the healers, they’re beckoning them into Percival’s room where a young boy of no more than 5 is sleeping somewhat peacefully on the bed. The Aurors are flabbergasted, and when they’re told that Percival has to be turned into a child to allow his complete recovery without any of his adult memory, everyone cries. They cry because the man who has always done his best to protect them, to bring them home safely and who’s always slipped them small gifts on special occasions like birthdays or anniversaries, is so helpless and they weren’t able to save him when he needed them the most. They swear that they’ll help Percival recover, but please please can he stay at MACUSA because they need to make sure he’s safe and alive and there with them.
They come up with a plan that is modified along the way to suit little Percy’s needs. They decide to call him Percy, because the poor boy with big dark eyes looked up at them with a hint of tears when they first called him Percival; turns out Percival wasn’t fond of his given name in his childhood, although he grew into it when he got older.
Tina and Queenie Goldstein
It’s decided that Percy will stay with the Goldstein sisters.
Tina’s the calm older sister who knows exactly what to do when Percival won’t come out of his room. She’s the one who makes sure he’s well taken care of, that he wears clothes that have been ironed to crisp perfection, and that his hair is neatly combed, just like when he was an adult. She makes sure he always has his bottle of water with him wherever they go, and that it’s always filled because Percy is always saying he’s thirsty. She thinks it’s partially because the adult Percival has always forgotten to eat and drink properly whenever he’s too busy. Well not on her watch, not now.
Queenie makes sure he eats well, makes sure he gets all the nutrients he needs but also makes the fluffiest pancakes for him on the weekends, complete with blueberries and chocolate syrup, just how he likes it. She’s the one he goes to when he’s feeling sad but doesn’t know why, and Queenie doesn’t say anything as she hugs him tight, but the gentle blonde weeps at the hurt hidden away in the recesses of the mind of the man the child used to be.
They both take turns making delicious cocoa for him before he goes to bed because it helps him sleep better after a warm drink. They read him stories together; sometimes they read fairy tales to him, and sometimes they regale him with stories about a brave man who loved deeply, and was dearly loved in return. Percy’s eyes are always brighter after these stories. They each kiss him on the forehead just as he’s about to drift off to sleep, and they make sure he falls asleep each day with a smile on his face. It’s the least they can do.
Their doors are always open, because sometimes Percy slips into bed with either of them whenever he has nightmares that seem all too real; they’re always about a white man with the strange eyes and cruel laugh who’s hurting him so bad. They learn he sleeps better when it’s raining or there’s a storm, because the rumbling of the thunder calms him.
When Newt comes back to New York, this time as a welcomed guest by MACUSA, he doesn’t bat an eye at being introduced to a shy young Percy, who’s hiding behind Madame Picquery’s wide skirts and peeping bashfully at the ginger-haired stranger. In his awkward, honest manner, Newt enthusiastically shakes an uncertain Percy’s hand and asks him, in a conspiratorial whisper, if he likes magical creatures. There’s a wide smile on their faces as they later descend into Newt’s magical world, and Percy is introduced to all of Newt’s babies. Douglas is particularly fond of Percy, and spent the whole time he was in the suitcase holding onto the boy’s hand. One of the Occamies also seems rather fond of Percy, and both the young boy and the magizoologist are delighted when the scaly creature winds itself around Percy’s neck, crooning and chirping contentedly.
Whenever the department is too busy to properly look after Percy, or when there’s a particularly tense situation going on and no one wants him there because they don’t want to upset him, Newt offers to watch him in the suitcase. He teaches Percy about magical creatures and how to care for them, allowing him to help in feeding the creatures and tending to them when they’re ill. Newt doesn’t let him near the Nundu though, that would be a very bad idea. He also spends time re-teaching Percy magic. He’s an incredibly intelligent boy, and while he’s not yet the age to be formally taught magic, Newt teaches him anyway because really, Percy is still Percival and it would be stupid to have to wait till he’s older. He’s a good teacher who’s as patient with Percy as he is with his creatures, and Percy is a good student who practices hard and tries to get everything right the first few times. Needless to say, he succeeds.
Sometimes, Percy takes naps when he’s tired. Most of the time, he curls up with Dougal who watches over him with bright yellow eyes. Newt manages to sketch out the scene and show it to Percival’s department, who coo and aww over the adorable sight. But they quickly turn somber when they remember the damage and hurt Percival went through to end up in this form, and they double down on work even more. Productivity levels are at the height during this period, and Madame Picquery is quietly proud of the love and loyalty Percival inspires in his people.
Queenie sneaks Percy to Jacob’s bakery sometimes, and she giggles with delight when Percy runs around the bakery, fascinated by Jacob’s creations. The No-Maj doesn’t remember Percival, and Percy doesn’t even know who Jacob is, but the ever cheerful Jacob is always kind and unpatronising towards the de-aged man. He even sneaks extra treats in for Percy and Queenie, for which the boy thanks him by shyly hugging his leg. Tina is always exasperated when she sees they’ve just come from Jacob’s bakery and Percy is happily munching on his baked goods, but both he and her sister look so happy that she can’t find it in her heart to lecture them on the dangers of exposing themselves to the No-Maj community. Between Percy and Queenie, they’ve got the perfect puppy dog eyes down pat.
Department of Magical Security
Percival’s department turns his office into a playroom for Percy, complete with books, toys and a comfortable bed for when he wants to take a nap. Initially, the precious boy clutches at Tina’s slacks, far too shy to speak with utter strangers (their hearts break all over again because he doesn’t remember them, and all they want to do is just hug him and keep him safe), he eventually warms up to them, offering them adorable smiles that show the gap in his front teeth.
They take turns interacting with him, and the atmosphere in the entire department has taken on a more relaxed, even homey vibe. It’s no longer a strange sight to see these grown men and women sitting on the floor with Percy while nibbling on a sandwich, or giving him piggyback rides around the office area. Their love for both Percy and Percival grow all the more, and they all vow to always protect their director, even when he returns to his adult form. In Percy, they see the innocence that Percival always had but never showed to anyone, as well as the gentle kindness they are often shown by him, albeit in more subtle ways.
Percy gives out hugs and hand-made cards whenever it’s someone’s birthday, and even the hardiest Aurors are a little choked up when the boy happily hugs them without hesitation, and gives them their card with pride in his handiwork. They go home and pin their cards proudly for all to see on fridges or desks, and treat them as masterpieces by famous artists. It’s the sweetest thing ever to see Percy steal their hearts.
Whenever anyone goes out for a mission, Percy always waits for them by the door. As the adult Percival once gave them warm clasps on their shoulders and a quiet prayer for their safe return, so does Percy offer them a hug and make them promise him that they’ll return. It’s this promise that reminds them to be extra vigilant and alert and effective in the field, and while casualties cannot be avoided unfortunately, the mortality rate is at a lower peak, because no one wants to see Percy heartbroken and sad when someone doesn’t make it home.
When Percy is finally deemed well enough to return to his adult form many months later, the entire department gather outside the ward where the age reversal is taking place. When Percival Graves the man walks out of the ward, he is immediately smothered by tight hugs and happy tears. There are tears in his dark eyes as well, which seem softer than before and they can see Percy in him, and he thanks each person individually for their role in his recovery. He doesn’t regret being turned back into a child, and neither do his people. There’s a reason why Grindelwald’s impersonation of him goes unnoticed by the people he sees everyday, and he’s learned to acquaint his colleagues and subordinates with the real Percival, as they have relearned to place their complete trust and faith in their leader. Some things are just meant to happen, for better or worse.
You were left to your worries and pain for a week. Over the days, members
of the Company streamed in to check on the woman who had fallen from the skies
and it helped distract you from the pull of your stitches and your bedridden
state. Bofur came with his brothers and re-enacted his heroic feats of battle,
Bombur offering you some walnut biscuits he had baked in the reinstated ovens
of Erebor, and Bifur leaving a mechanical bird on your bedside table.
Like most things at Hogwarts, the fact that Harry Potter had the supposedly mythical Deathly Hallows was an open secret. There had been plenty of students hiding in the woods, trying to avoid either side of the battle, or just attempting to bury their dead during the hour grace the Dark Lord had provided.
You knew this, because you were one of the dead. You’d stayed neutral, not from a lack of principles, but from an inability to attack the loved ones you had on either side. You’d learned too late that there was no neutrality in war.
Until your last year, it had been easy to think of the upcoming war as something in the abstract. No more serious than the petty feud between Draco and Potter, even if it was growing just as dark.
Then Deatheaters had come to Hogwarts, Dumbledore was dead, and nothing would ever be the same again.
Headmaster Snape was probably the best part of your last year. The Professors Carrow? Not so much. You missed several of your friends, muggleborns and half bloods raised in the muggle world missing from the school. The students weren’t the only ones missing though, some professors were as well.
Potter returning to Hogwarts and catalyzing the final battle was a relief in some ways. It would finally be over, one way or the other. The Chosen One and the Dark Lord.
You just hadn’t expected to die in that battle.
And you definitely hadn’t expected Draco to find the Resurrection Stone to try and bring you back. You’d had a crush on him for years, been friendly for a while as well, but he’d always been more interested in Pansy you’d thought. All you had really hoped for was for him to consider you a friend.
It wasn’t a friend’s face that had called you back from beyond the grave. It was the face of a young man who had lost too much, too quickly.
“Draco,” you breathed after he choked out your name.
“I have to bring you back, Y/N. Why isn’t this working. It’s suppose to bring you back? You weren’t suppose to die. You shouldn’t… “
The Stone tumbled from his hands as Draco’s head and shoulders bowed from grief. Slipping back to Death, you thought it was ironic. The things you have to lose your life to learn.