#‘i just figured out your not a traitor and i can find you hot and nownim losing you?? fuck that’

[theology101]

Get yourself a mans willing to commit genocide in order to protect you and your adopted daughter.

[restinslices]

MK1 X Targaryen Reader Intro

Mixing my two interests. Plot is somehow the reader ended up in the MK1 universe and like a Targaryen, they wanna conquer shit. Ik Targaryens are humans but uhhh, I mean… giving them powers to do with fire, increasing madness in someone and summoning whatever dragon they want ain’t gonna hurt yall. Also, just because they’re a Targaryen doesn’t mean they’re white. idgaf what GRRM says. This is MY blog.

✎ The Lin Kuei will be the ones to conquer the realms!

✎ Bend the knee to me, or I will bring fire and blood

✎ Bend the knee or by sunset your Lin Kuei clan shall end

✎ Your threats do not frighten me!

✎ You haven’t a chance against the Lin Kuei Grandmaster

✎ You couldn’t withstand your brothers fire. Do you really think you can withstand mine?

✎ If you play nice, I may allow you to be one of my whores

✎ I’ll have your tongue for that insult!

✎ Do you truly believe your flames are hotter than mine?

✎ There is only one way to find out

✎ The realms are not yours to conquer!

✎ I’d like to see you try and stop me oath breaker

✎ Swear your loyalty to me and I will allow your clan to live

✎ I’d rather die than make my people your slaves!

✎ To die before making a name for yourself… how pathetic

✎ A future you will soon face

✎ Oh no, please don’t attack me with air

✎ You won’t be mocking me when you’re choking on it

✎ In Westeros, smallfolk know who their rightful leader is

✎ This is not Westeros and you are not our leader

✎ How many people have been killed because of your family?

✎ Are you, an assassin, lecturing me about death?

✎ The Shirai Ryu will not allow you to-

✎ Your clan will have no choice but to obey

✎ You have traitors among you because they do not fear you

✎ Their treachery is not a show of my failings

✎ Allow me to show you the wrath of a Targaryen

✎ Allow me to show you the wrath of a god

✎ You have the markings of a dragon, but what else?

✎ Continue with your outrage and you will see

✎ I have erased whole timelines you tyrant

✎ Then getting you out the way first will benefit me

✎ To be tricked by your own self… I can’t even laugh. It’s too funny!

✎ Do not underestimate me because of that one moment

✎ I hear we would have to marry if we wanted to form an alliance

✎ Do you truly think I would marry a low born sorcerer?

✎ Ally yourself with me and we could take down Liu Kang

✎ Me? Need your help? *laughs*

✎ Bend the knee or I will have you begging for mercy

✎ I beg and kneel to no one

Welp, here ya’ll go. I haven’t done MK1 intros in a hot minute, which I don’t know why I haven’t since I like doing them and they’re easier to do than headcanons. Idk if I’ll make a part 2 and who I’d do. I’ll figure it out later. Hope ya’ll enjoyed.

[teecupangel]

Hello!! Hii!! It's me again :3c

Hope you're having a good day tee! Been re-reading your fics and ARGH they're so good, wish I could eat them, just needed you to know that ehe.

Anyways! I come with an idea!

Have you ever thought of a role reversal/swap au? Like, the modern gang are the ones in the past and the ones from the past are the in the modern time reliving the(ir) past.

I know that there are a lot of characters, from the past and present, and idk how swapping all of their places would work so I'm only focusing on my pookies for this ask :3c

The pookies in question are Desmond, Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton, of course.

So this time Desmond is the one in the past, AND WE COULD GO WILD FROM HERE!!

Was Desmond one of The Greatest Assassin's Of All Time™ or was he just like modern!Desmond who ran away from the creed and was roped back in to the entire thing only after a few years lol. Like I said, GO WILD!!

Rebecca, Shaun, Lucy and Clay are also in the past with Desmond, all the modern day characters are! (So also the antagonists!)

Also, I'm a biracial Desmond truther so that's definitely going to determine the setting he's going to be in.

My HC is that he's Half Syrian, half whatever William is (fuck you William) so maybe he could be born in Masyaf, during when? You decide!

I didn't want this to sound like a Desmond get reborn as Altaïr ask (I LOVE YOU DESMOND REBORN AS 'SOMEONE' ASKS) because I still want him to be in ancient/old Syria (or somewhere near that! Like I said GO WILDDDDD) that's why I'm keeping everything vague jssjaj

And tee the modern day plot is whatever you want it to be, and this time Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton (along with the characters from their games) would be our modern gang! Finally they can interact and banter with eachother.

The Animus and isus are still going to be involved of course.

can we get some ClayDes with this? Or AltDes?or both Please and thank you <3.

Also I'm so sorry if this idea seems so vague and plotless it literally just popped into my head a few minutes ago LOL (definitely not from re-reading Zero Eclipse again nope). And as per usual, forgive me for anything spelling/grammar mistakes! English is hard ajdhsjjaajsh.

You know what would be funny, nonny?

If this isn’t a case of Desmond being reborn as Altaïr BUT Desmond pretending to be Altaïr because Altaïr went missing.

Desmond, Rebecca, Shaun, Lucy and Clay all woke up in the temple underneath Jerusalem. The Apple was gone so their best guess was that this was after the big FUBAR that landed Altaïr in hot waters.

And to make this all the more interesting, the gang was sent to the past just as Desmond was about to stab Lucy in the coliseum.

Everyone but Clay doesn’t know Lucy is a Templar. Lucy and Clay make a truce of some kind where Clay keeps it a secret because they all need to focus on how to get back to their actual time.

(Clay only agrees to not explicitly telling everyone that Lucy is a Templar, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to tell the local bureau that there was a blonde foreigner crusader spy and he may or may not be hinting that someone is a traitor among them to Desmond the entire time, loop hole abuse is one of Clay’s favorite past time after all)

And here comes the mystery.

Desmond tries to check Jerusalem out because they need to figure out just ‘when’ they were kicked to and an informant saw him, called him Altaïr and dragged him to the bureau where…

Kadar was working as the temporary Rafiq.

What. The. Fuck.

.

Flashforward to the future where Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton wake up in a very familiar face. And hey, it’s Juno.

And he’s screaming at Altaïr who looked ready to throttle her, skin her alive and feed the goddamn skin down her throat.

They ran away from the screaming Juno and find the gang’s van.

Altaïr ‘surprisingly’ seemed to know how to open it and they both hide their before Altaïr tell them his side of the story.

So…

Altaïr decided that restraint was a word that should just be thrown out of the window after his wife and son died. He started messing up the Apple and unlocked admin access to it, which meant that he could get any information he wanted.

And the information he wanted was to change the past so the people he loved and cared for would live past their fated death.

He managed to return to the past and saved Kadar.

Unfortunately, Kadar’s survival caused a ripple in time and space and Altaïr was sucked into it where he… may or may not have met a Reader of time.

He made a deal with the Reader.

Apparently, Altaïr was not allowed to mess with his own time, no one was allowed to do that.

However, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t mess with other people’s time and someone else couldn’t mess with his time.

So they made a deal. The Reader would send someone who would want to give Altaïr a happy ending, in exchange Altaïr was to change the fate of the person the Reader was sending by taking out the Templars in the mean time.

Things started to get strange while they were switching timelines though.

Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton were yanked from their timeline because of their deep connection to Desmond and the gang was yanked with Desmond in the process because they were near Desmond (Clay getting yanked was because his digital avatar’s home, the Animus, was connected to Desmond’s phone via a shared network and the transfer counted him as an individual)

Altaïr is sorta kinda sure that they’d return to their original timeline once Altaïr had done his side of the bargain and Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton really have no other clue other than what the great Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad is telling them so they just go along with it.

First thing first… Altaïr needs to get into contact with William Miles to get information about this time that the Reader and his Apple was unable to give him.

.

On the other side of this wacky time travel ride, everyone assumes Altaïr is missing because they returned to the past.

Lucy is all in on the whole “we need to preserve history or else we risk the chance of disappearing!” and Shaun agrees with her (for now).

Clay thinks they should just fuck shit up and see what happens and Rebecca isn’t entirely on board with either ideas and more focused on finding out how they could return home.

For now…

Desmond will continue to pretend to be Altaïr who went missing because he was wounded in Jerusalem (after trying to save Kadar, sounds fishy, might be a clue) and the gang is now the kind people who healed him.

(Rebecca and Shaun are pretending to be married, Clay and Lucy are also pretending to be married, it’s very awkward, no one wants to acknowledge that elephant at all)

And…

Oh, yeah.

Malik was the one who got demoted and is now hunting down the Templars.

.

If this is ClayDes, it’s gonna be a slowburn kind of deal.

If you want this to be AltDes, Desmond and Altaïr actually manages to contact one another when they’re dreaming after Altaïr used the Animus to check his own past and got routed to Desmond’s POV.

If you want both, the same setup as AltDes but Clay gets suckered into the dream videocall because of unknown reasons.

[spacewinter]

Ik it's probably been done a million times, but (if you're still taking prompts) I'd love to see your thoughts on the flyboys and/or the daggers finding out that IceMav are together. Like, a lot of the times it's portrayed that all the flyboys knew before IceMav told them, but what if they didn't? What if they were actually FANTASTIC at hiding that they're in a full-on, committed relationship? Or on the opposite end, all the Daggers suspecting IceMav are together, and finally getting confirmation, but in some hilarious way, like walking in on the two mid-makeout session?

As much as Bradley likes to make fun of his Uncles, they're smart and competent men who achieved great things. Sure, Mav may be a reckless idiot sometimes, but he didn't get where he is by being actually stupid. Iceman is a whole new level of brilliant, perfectly controlled and only showing what he wants to show.

They managed to keep their relationship secret from the Navy for years and years, and Bradley is yet to get out of them exactly how much time it took the class of '89 to figure out they're together.

Point is, Iceman and Maverick are good at hiding their relationship, passing their affections as close friendship and long years of knowing each other. They're subtle but smitten, and Bradley's heart skips a beat whenever he sees their smiles. It's cute, as much as two decorated Naval aviators can be cute.

He's reveling in the fact that he's the only one to really know, to see them being silly and in love. Ever since he and Mav reconciled, Bradley has been a frequent guest at their house, and he got to see that their love never weakened. Still, they only for better at hiding (probably out of habit).

This is why Hangman’s teasing remark comes as such a surprise.

They're discussing their plans for the weekend after a whole week of being cooped up doing paperwork. Bradley is ready to tear his hair out, and his friends aren't doing much better. The only one who seems unaffected is Hangman, but Rooster is used to it by now - the blonde is almost annoyingly cool and level-headed at all times.

"What are your plans, old man? Risking your life on a bike instead of a plane?" Payback teases, getting an elbow in the side from Fanboy.

Maverick finishes his beer and stands up with a smile. "Nah, I'm staying inside. An old friend is coming to visit, so no strenuous activities for me this weekend."

It's only because Rooster is so (unfortunately) attituned to Hangman that he hears what the man mutters under his breath.

"Oh, so getting railed by your hunky blonde lover ain't strenuous? I see how it is."

Bradley chokes on his drink, and Mav shoots him a concerned look before finally walking away after Rooster shakes his head. As soon as he calms down, he turns fo glare at Hangman.

"What did you say?" he hisses.

Hangman raises a slow eyebrow. "That...getting railed can be a strenuous activity? If you never took a lover that's on you, Roo, but my partners were always left exhausted."

He forcibly removes all thoughts of Hangman taking a lover (taking him maybe, all golden skin and sharp grins, strong hands on Rooster’s hips-). That's not the point now.

"How- No, I mean, how did you- Hunky?" Rooster ends up squealing. Other Daggers, the traitors, just look on in amusement.

"I mean, I'm not into older blondes but I have eyes, and Kazansky's still got it," Hangman drawls with a smirk. "He was a serious hunk in his younger years, I don't blame Mav."

"No kidding," Fanboy chimes in. "Even the frosted tips were hot, it's unfair."

"He was pretty climable," Coyote agrees. "And they gave that whole opposites attract going on."

Rooster listens as his friends talk about how hot Uncle Ice, the actual Admiral Kazansky used to be, and just tries to understand how he ended up here. Years, decades even without anyone realizing, only for the Daggers to click it immediately.

"Roo, you good?" Hangman asks suddenly, a warm hand on his shoulder snapping Bradley out of it. "Don't tell me you haven't realized. You fucking lived with them, for fuck's sake!"

Rooster takes offense. "Of course I realized! But no one ever did, so how did you-"

"Honestly, Bradshaw," the blonde mutters. "I have a pair of eyes and a working gaydar, it's not like it's hard."

"They're not being super subtle," Payback agrees. "But it's sorta cute."

"They've been going for decades, I bet, and they're still this disgusting," Hangman chuckles. "Makes you hope, ey?"

Rooster locks his gaze with Hangman's, and them immediately looks away when he feels himself blush. There's heavy implication in the man's voice, and he's not sure what to do with it yet. For now, he's too busy wondering if his uncles and the Navy are just that blind and stupid, or are the Daggers that observant and smart.

Neither option is attractive to consider.

Curiously enough, the Daggers don't bring it up with Maverick, but now that he's looking, Rooster can see their smirks and eye rolls whenever Mav smiles at his phone or blushes. Slowly, he has to admit defeat - maybe Mav and Ice aren't being as sneaky as they used to be.

It all comes to a head a few weeks later, when Mav invites them over for barbecue. Iceman isn't due to be back until Wednesday, and Rooster knows that Mav is feeling a bit lonely, which is why they're invited. The older pilot even invites them to an actual house, instead of the hangar, and Rooster had to admit it's not very subtle.

"Damn, this is nice," Payback whistles looking at the huge house. "Must be nice, being a kept man."

Phoenix elbows him in the side, but doesn't deny. "Well, the Admiral sure makes good money."

Rooster rolls his eyes, leading them to the door. He knows it's going to be open because Mav always keeps it open when he invites him over, and so he confidently walks in, the Daggers following after him. He's just about to call out for the older pilot, when a loud moan sounds in the house.

They all freeze.

Then, Hangman smirks like a cat that got the cream and firmly turns around. "Trust me, folks, you don't wanna take a glance at the couch," he whispers. He was the one closest to the entrance of the living room, and the only one with a good view. "I dunno about you, but I don't need to see our Captain getting his back blown out."

That breaks the tension and they spill outside, sniffling their laughter and leaning against each other. Rooster has experience with this, having caught his guardians foing at it multiple times, but it's much funnier with friends.

"My gaydar is never wrong," Hangman announces when they calm down. "Good for them, honestly."

"What, you also wanna rail a mouthy brunette into a couch?" Coyote asks with a shit-eating smirk, throwing an arm around Jake's shoulders.

The blonde shrugs and his eyes meet Rooster’s again.

"If he's willing."

When Maverick finally opens the door with a sheepish smile, Rooster ducks inside immediately if only to hide his furious blush. Hangman's laughter follows him through, and he almost walks into Iceman.

"Hi, Admiral, please say you disinfected the couch," Hangman says immediately, respectful but cheeky. "Or do we have to avoid it?"

Iceman is silent for a long while, before he bursts out laughing. He turns to his blushing husband and smirks.

"Mav, you didn't tell me your Daggers were worse than you."

It's a nice evening. They did disinfect the couch.

[sneverussape]

many the miles, 1/2

evans!severus au

the one where 13yo severus sneaks off to cokeworth and unwittingly gets caught by his older sister, and they both end up on a train to the midlands OR a long meandering sibling-focused two-shot that i've been dying to write because these two wouldn't stop arguing in my head and it was driving me NUTS

wc: 6866 (more or less)

cw: mentions of epilepsy, growing up in the 90s/2000s, discmans, Fruit Polos (rip), being yelled at by older siblings in public places, 2000s eyebrows, swearing, whatever else

for @greens-your-color :)

--

“Severus!”

Severus froze mid-step at the sound of his name being called among the crowded orange halls of St. Pancras. It had been faint, as though coming from a distance or a fading dream, and his first thought was to consider whether his new potions regimen included late-onset hallucinations.

Fantastic, he thought grimly, but proceeded to steel himself to accept the possibility with reluctant grace. When his name was called out loud again, however, and this time with a hard edge, he frowned and quickly reconsidered the odds, deciding that hallucinations didn’t normally grow louder or fiercer as time went on. Besides…hallucinations didn’t tend to make Mercutio react, and as it was, he had already turned to face the opposite way, his massive tail thumping hard against Severus’ leg.

“Severus!”

There was something in the way his name was said that instinctively made him spin on his heel so fast that he nearly got whiplash. At first there wasn’t anything worth noting, but soon enough his eyes focussed beyond the crowd and he was met with the sight of a rather familiar blur of wild blonde hair and clenched teeth running towards him with all the speed and rage of a charging Erumpet…if said Erumpet was just over five feet and wore paint-stained overalls with their mother’s soiled red wellies (exactly the ones she usually wore when mucking about the garden and which he knew a fox had pissed on just days before).

His jaw seemed to unhinge, and he felt himself gaping in disbelief. Alarm flared hot and heavy in the pits of his stomach.

“Petunia…?!” Severus said with no small amount of trepidation. Between the possibility of being subjected to medication-induced hallucinations or his indignant older sister, he much preferred the former than the latter. Hell, death would be the preferred option to Petunia in a massive strop. His instincts screamed at him to run and find a dark corner to hide, but his trainers stayed firmly glued to the spot as he watched the figure approach.

Please don’t be her…please don’t be her, he found himself wishing, though he knew it was futile. The figure had already stopped in front of him, red-faced and breathless from the run, with the look of a creature possessed. Their chest heaved and their eyes flashed, and within the stuttering silence, there was a brief moment when Severus still held out the hope that this could all be a dream—

“You little…shit.”

A manicured nail poked him in the chest. Hard. Severus winced. Definitely (and unfortunately) not a hallucination then. Mercutio yipped again, happily. The traitor.

Severus held up his hands as though he was under arrest. Well, he technically was.

“Hang on—ow! Hang on, I can explain…” Raw fear made his words skitter and stumble past his teeth. His tongue had gone dry and suddenly wanted to make a home for itself on the roof of his mouth. “Listen, Toons, it’s not what you think—”

“No, no, no, you listen! Just what do you think you’re doing, Severus Tobias Evans?!”  As though on cue, Petunia exploded, and Severus was suddenly awash in a tirade that rang and echoed across the station’s stone walls in a manner that would rival any well-placed Sonorous. “Do you know how worried I was?! I took my eyes off you for one hour and I came back to find your room empty with nothing but a cryptic note on your desk and the last redialed number on the phone one to a cab company leading here! It cost me sixty quid to get here, mind! Sixty! I’ve not washed my hair and I’m supposed to be revising for my exam! I only agreed to watch you for Mum and Dad since they said you were ill and not having lessons today. You’ve no business to be here. WHY ARE YOU HERE?”

Severus grimaced as Petunia shouted the final question, his ears burning something fierce. He hadn’t seen or heard her that furious in ages. The last time he could remember that she had exploded the same way was when he and Lily had been experimenting with their magic a year or so before they got their Hogwarts letters: they had ended up lopping the tip of Lily’s finger clean off and had attempted, quite unsuccessfully, to fix it themselves. Petunia had reached a similar volume then (possibly due to the amount of blood on the kitchen floor), but that one at least hadn’t been a public bollocking – she had calmed down enough by the time they had run over to Andi and Ted to ask for help, and had subsequently handed the reins off to the Tonkses for a second dressing-down; the memory of a particularly potent stinging hex against his palm wasn’t something Severus would soon forget.

This time it was different. They were out in the open and Lily wasn’t available for him to tag team with. If Lily had been there, she’d have likely covered for him so this entire situation wouldn’t even be happening. But as it stood, he now had to deal with an irate Petunia all on his own where strangers could ogle at them, and wasn’t that a treat?

“It isn’t what you think it is.” Severus forced himself to speak, although his voice was higher than he’d like. “It really isn’t.”

“Oh it isn’t? Because what I think is that you’re in heaps of trouble and that’s not even the whole of it.” Petunia spoke in a tone that eerily sounded like their mother’s and it made Severus’ skin crawl.“This really has to be the most idiotic thing you’ve done, Severus. Congratulations, you’ve exceeded expectations entirely with this act. What on earth could possibly justify your being here—”

She stopped mid-rant and Severus saw as she focused on the rucksack he was carrying, her eyes wide as they traveled up to his face. “Hang on, what is that?”  She gasped, looking genuinely aghast. “Severus, are you running away?”

Severus groaned, resisting the urge to slap his forehead with his palm. Of course his sister would jump to that conclusion. “I just told you it isn’t what you think it is! I’m not running away.”

“Well, I don’t know what you want me to think given that we’re in a bloody train station and you’ve a bag with you! It’s not like I’ve caught you lollygagging at the corner store!”

“Toons, just—” He was getting equally frustrated and had to resist with his entire being from telling Petunia to just shut up for a bloody minute to make his ears stop ringing and from bringing them further embarrassment. God, he hoped none of the people around them knew who they were. “It really is going to be fine, just let me…” His words were starting to fail him again, and Severus clenched his fists at his sides. “Look. It’s only a daytrip, I promise. I’ll be back even before Mum and Dad get home, but you have to let me do this, Toons. Trust me.”

The shade of red Petunia’s face turned into wasn’t one he had ever seen on any living person before.

“Trust you—?! Severus, you’re thirteen! I can’t even trust you with a pocketbook of matches! And a daytrip? Are you mad?! Are you playing hookey just to go on holiday? Are you…” And this time, Petunia was mindful enough to look round and lower her voice before speaking the next sentence: “Are you going to Hogwarts, because I swear if you are—”

“What? No!” Severus frowned. “Why would I go to Hogwarts?” The first term for that year had barely started, and besides, he had already gotten approval to have several Advanced lessons that wouldn’t be taught to Lily and the rest of their class until later in the year. Apart from wanting to visit his sister, Hogwarts held very little appeal for him.

“How am I supposed to know what goes on in your head?” Petunia fumed. “Mum and Dad gave me specific instructions to keep an eye on you today because they said you were ill.” She peered closer at his face. “But you’re not, are you? You’re sneaking off to God knows where while they’re away!”

Severus felt himself flush. He hadn’t needed any of Lily’s Fever Fudge to fool his parents earlier that morning before they had left for their outing, but being called out on it now made him feel several levels of shame that he didn’t think he was capable of feeling. Petunia hadn’t even tried to see if he had a temperature; she had already cottoned on.

“Technically,” he muttered, “I am ill…with a chronic condition…”

“Oh, Severus!” Petunia exclaimed, and she really did sound like their Mum when she was at the end of her tether. It was freakishly uncanny. “How could you lie to them about this? Do you know how worried they constantly are about you? How I—” She stopped herself mid-sentence before consciously attempting to regain her composure. After a few uneven breaths, she leveled a glare at him.

“Right, you are going to explain now,” she ordered, her voice now deadly calm. “Or I’m phoning Mum and Dad, and you will be in so much trouble I doubt you’ll even be let out until you’re eighty.”

“You wouldn’t! That’s not fair!” Severus gasped. The worst possibility he’d considered in his plan was having his parents overly worry, causing them to stay behind. Careless as he was with many others’ feelings (his sisters sometimes included), his parents were the utmost exception and he took great care of theirs above all else, since he often despised how much they had to pause their own lives for his sake. The thought of his plan unraveling in such a way that it would make them cancel their holiday altogether made him sick to his stomach. Mum had even bought an entirely new wardrobe for it even though they were only going to be gone for the day. “They’ve been looking forward to this outing for months!”

“Well bully for you, I guess you should have stayed home like you were supposed to, then.” Petunia crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head. “Talk,” she commanded.

Oh, Petunia was a tough nut to crack. If it came down to it, he knew she’d force the answers out of him somehow. Sometimes, Severus was glad his older sister wasn’t magical at all; he was sure she’d end up an Unspeakable, and the thought itself was enough to make him shudder.

“I really am not running away...” Severus said, and it took all his willpower to not allow his voice to tremble. He wasn't afraid, how could he be? Petunia was the height of a Christmas elf. But his knees felt weak all the same. And did his voice just break? Merlin. “Everything was all planned out. I put out a note just in case, but I wasn’t really expecting you or anyone else to find it.” He felt very much like a child as Petunia raised a razor-thin eyebrow at him (it looked so awful, why was this a fad? But both his sisters would kill him if he ever so much as breathed his opinion about them), but somehow managed to ramble on. “Anyway, I was going to go and be back before anyone could find out.”

“How could you think I wouldn’t check on you at any point?” Petunia looked deeply unimpressed which, honestly, was her default expression, but this time it seemed more pointed. “I would have had to make sure you hadn’t died before Mum and Dad came home…” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Severus, did you ward your room?”

Bleeding buggering hell, his sister should have really just joined the police force. An economics degree or whatever it was she was in uni for would be far too dull for her. Having Petunia as a copper would lower the crime rate in Britain to single digits, he reckoned. Between him and Lily, she had already garnered enough practice.

As in that moment, when the stilted silence between them already gave her the confirmation she needed.

“Severus Tobias Evans!” Petunia thundered, anger flooding her features once more. “How could you do such a reckless thing! You know Mum and Dad specifically told you to not put any kind of ward or charm on your room…it’s not safe!”

This time it was Severus’ turn to glare. Although he knew his family’s rules and their protectiveness always meant well, he couldn’t help but feel suffocated when they insisted on his safety as though he was made of spun glass.

“It was just the one time and you broke through well enough!” He said hotly. “That shouldn’t have even been possible with the Notice-Me-Not up!”

He was equally annoyed and perplexed at having been caught, especially knowing that it was due to Petunia being unaffected by the charm enough to enter his room. His sister was notoriously averse to magic, and simple charms usually worked on her effortlessly. To his surprise, Petunia scoffed at his statement. She raised her wrist and showed the bright green bracelet clasped around it. The same bracelets their parents wore, all of which were in the same fluorescent color as Mercutio’s enchanted emergency collar. Severus groaned, recognizing it right away.

“You’re bloody joking! How do you have one?” Part of him wanted to throw a tantrum, as pointless as it was. The bracelet would make Petunia the third person to have the ability to know of his general well-being whether he wanted them to or not. The very thought made him want to snap it off and chuck it into the Thames. “St. Mungo’s said it was only for parents and guardians!”

“I asked, and they gave me one when I came of age,” Petunia said snootily. “Your little tricks don’t work when your safety is concerned. The bracelet started growing warm all of a sudden this morning and I knew you were up to something. Now here I am, and my toast has been abandoned and is growing cold in the kitchen as we speak.”

“You were supposed to be revising for exams. I checked your timetable and everything and Mum had left me sandwiches in my room so you wouldn’t need to bother.” Severus was fuming. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Don’t even think of giving me lip,” Petunia snapped at him with a warning tone that instantly made him internally recoil, although he continued to glare at her. “And of course you went through my things even though I’ve told you a million times not to! And…hang on…if you bunked off your tutors today then even Andi doesn’t know your little scheme, whatever it is. She wouldn’t have expected you at her house today for lessons.”

It was more a statement than a question and Severus flinched. He had been avoiding trying to think of what Andi would do to him once – if – she found out.

“It would have been fine…” he said as he unconsciously rubbed his palm where Andi’s stinging hex had last been cast.

“Oh fine, he says!” Petunia’s sudden outburst earned them a few startled glances. “This is not fine, Severus, if you still haven’t noticed. You’ve told no one? Are you daft? If anything happened to you whilst you were out…we wouldn’t even know where to start!”

“I was only going to be gone for a couple of hours.” Severus couldn’t understand what she was so worked up about. In his mind, his plan made perfect sense. “I’ve been gone for longer to the library.”

“You’re comparing this to a trip the library, really? Have you utterly lost all sense? Do you truly not understand the danger…?!” At Severus’ defiant expression, Petunia groaned. “Seriously, I am going to end up tearing my hair out…what if you had gotten kidnapped? Mugged? What if you had become seriously ill at any point?”

Her eyes flashed at the words, although he needed no cues, verbal or otherwise, to understand what it was she was referring to. He crossed his own arms, mirroring his sister’s defensive pose.

“I wouldn’t have,” he said with full confidence. “But even if I had a fit, it would be fine. I’ve been taking my po—medicines, and Mercutio’s here—”

“Mercutio wouldn’t have been able to protect the people with you, you absolute numpty!” This time, Petunia didn’t look angry but terrified. “Did you not consider that in your grand plan? Mercutio could get you to hospital but someone apart from you could get seriously hurt with your…abilities…and then where will we all be? I don’t fancy being in prison—in either world! Mum and Dad either, mind!”

Severus felt the blood drain from his face at her words. The image of a train suddenly exploding mid-track and people losing assorted limbs due to his accidental magic ran unbidden through his mind’s eye and made him wince. It was true that he had only considered what would happen to him if he had gotten a fit at any point during the trip; he had forgotten about its effects on other people entirely. His family and the Tonkses and his tutors always seemed to know what to do…but he hadn’t planned on them being with him, had he?

Suddenly, Petunia being so spitting angry no longer seemed as ridiculous given that perspective.

Merlin’s bloody bollocks, he was a knob.

“I…” he licked his lips. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean…Look. Toons.” He attempted to placate his sister by being entirely upfront. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“That much is obvious.” Petunia snapped, before releasing what sounded like a pent-up sigh. She took a long pause before she reached for his hand. Her fingers were cold as she squeezed his. 

“Listen, Severus, you honestly frightened me to death. Now…I won’t tell Mum and Dad, but let’s just go home, all right? Let this be the end of the adventure. We’ll forget about this and maybe I won’t use it as leverage against you in the future. All right? Let's just go.”

She tugged him in the direction of the exits, but he resolutely stayed put. Grateful as he was for his sister’s reprieve (a rare treat as far as he was concerned), he knew he couldn’t go. This had taken months of planning and he had already come so far.

“No,” he shook off Petunia’s hold. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t. I have to go today. It’s my only chance.”

“To do what?” Petunia, bless her, looked as though he’d hit her with an extremely powerful Confundus but was expending all her energy to fight it off. She pressed her palms against her eyes. “Go where? Severus, are you actually delirious? I don’t understand—”

“Cokeworth.”

“WHAT?” Petunia dropped her hands to gawk at him, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. Her lips moved almost involuntarily although no further sounds came out. When her vocal chords seemed to have caught up with her, it was for high-pitched hissing and sputtering, making her sound rather like an anaphylactic snake, or an irate tea kettle.

“I’m sorry, you were planning to go where? The Midlands? NOW?”

“Yes.” Severus fished around in his pocket and produced the tickets he’d already bought. He’d saved his pocket money for weeks for this trip, and he’d even had to do some odd jobs around the house and for some of the neighbours. “The train is leaving in half an hour. You can go home and wait for me there, or just wait for me to come back here. But either way…I’m going.” He licked his lips nervously. He’d never stood up to Petunia this determinedly before and he was terrified of the possible consequences (Petunia could be quite vengeful, even for the pettiest things) but he didn’t want to mull over it now. Thankfully she seemed too distracted by the current circumstances to even ponder on future punishments.

“Are you even allowed to go?! As a child?? With a dog?? The police are going to be notified!”

It was a valid concern, but one that Severus had already covered. “I’m thirteen, it’s allowed, I checked,” he said, by means of explanation. He pulled Mercutio closer to him, who happily nuzzled his face into his hip. “Mercutio too. We’re not going to make trouble so there won’t be any reason for the police to come.”

This time, Petunia really did look as though she was about to murder him, and Severus was glad they were surrounded by people on all sides. She threw him a pointed glare before shifting her attentions to the clock on the wall, then the signboard, then her (well, their mother’s) shoes in movements so rapid Severus was wondering how it didn’t hurt her neck. It was a long minute before she started muttering a string of curse words that he was sure would have earned her a mouthful of soap if Mum had heard her.

“Bloody hell, I’m not even wearing socks.” Petunia whined as she tugged at the ends of her hair. “And…what am I wearing…fuck fuck fuck. I look properly mad.”

“Just stay here then…do a bit of shopping,” Severus offered, hoping his sister would take the bait. Petunia was as vain as the day was long, and he was sure the prospect of her getting a new wardrobe in case she met any of her many exes on the street was more enticing than tagging along with him to their old hometown while wearing mismatched clothing. “I’ll keep mum about the bills to Mum and Dad. And there’s…ah…a makeup store down the street, I think. I won’t be gone long—"

He made to already turn and walk away but was held fast by a tight grip on his collar. He yelped and when he looked up and there was only familiar determination in Petunia’s eyes, one he would normally associate with tyrannical despots or Andromeda Tonks whenever she requested audience with Headmaster Dumbledore for his ever-changing homeschooling curriculum.

“Right, you little miscreant. Listen here and listen well.” Petunia held him in place with an iron grip to his shoulder, bending a little so she could hiss straight at his face. All previous traces of amicability had been wiped away from her features. “Since you obviously won’t be dissuaded from your insane plan, I have no other choice but to fall in line with it. But let it not be said that I agreed with this! No, not at all! Because the second, and I swear, the second anything goes wrong, Severus Evans, I am taking you back home, kicking, crying and/or screaming, and Mum and Dad are going to hear all of it, you understand?”

“Hang on, you mean you’re coming?” It was Severus’ turn to sputter in shock. He had not, in the thousands of possibilities considered in his plan, anticipated either of his sisters coming with him. Lily had of course been removed from the equation at the onset, but Petunia, of all people?! No amount of Divination could have predicted this sorry lot. Forget the exploding train, there was going to be blood on their seats before they could even leave Kings Cross.

“But…your exam!” He finished lamely, his brain unable to think of any other valid excuse that could keep his sister in London.

“Sod the exam. I’m not going to fail that class. But Mum and Dad will have my head if I let you go off alone and something happens to you.” Petunia had a dangerous gleam in her eye. “You will owe me for a thousand years for this, whether or not we get out of this unscathed. Now come on. Let’s get this over and done with. I need to buy a ticket.”

Dumbfounded, Severus followed his sister as she stalked towards the ticketing booth, wild hair, dirty wellies, and all.

Merlin’s pants, what had he gotten himself into? 

--

The train that would be taking them back to the Midlands (back home, a voice in his head said experimentally, but his stomach clenched painfully at the words) was nothing like the Hogwarts train. The Midland Mainline train was long and boxy, painted a dull green all throughout and covered liberally in a speckled coating of soot. Severus caught Petunia’s sneer when she first laid eyes on it, and she had automatically held out a hand as though to keep him back. Severus rolled his eyes before grasping her wrist and pulling her forward, ignoring the squeak that left his sister’s mouth as soon as they crossed from the platform to enter the compartment. He led them both to their seats, Mercutio at a leisurely pace beside them. It wasn’t a peak hour, thank Merlin, so locating their spot was simple enough, and he and Petunia both settled in rather quickly.

“How long was it again?” Petunia had chosen the seat adjacent from his, so he had full view of her sour expression.

“Two hours.”

A groan then a loud thump as she leaned hard against the window. “Bloody hell.”

“Shouldn’t you remember?” Severus barely remembered his life in Cokeworth but had counted that more as a boon than anything. He realized that although he had asked his parents more than once about their previous lives there, he had never thought to ask his sister. Trying to remember himself was a bit like wading through scenes being played on moth-eaten video tapes. “You were old enough when we moved, weren’t you?”

Petunia threw him a withering look. “We had a car, Severus, if you don’t remember being squished to within an inch of our lives at the back. We never took the—what the hell are you doing?”

Severus looked up from the small mountain of items that he had dumped from his rucksack onto the foldaway vinyl table that sat between them.

“Precautions,” he said, waving his sunglasses at her before putting them on. Even from behind the dark lenses, he saw as Petunia considerably paled at his response.

“You said you had taken your…your medicine.” Petunia’s wariness about magic extended to even their terms, and referring to his medication as potions was not something she could do even on a good day. At the moment, she looked as though she completely regretted being in an enclosed space with him; she looked fit to bolt. “Do you feel a fit coming on now? And don’t even think about lying!”

“Oh, will you relax,” Severus chided her as he untangled his headphones before putting them on his head. “I told you; I took my medicine already. This is just to…not tempt fate so to speak.” Pet Shop Boys on low was somehow effective at keeping fits at bay, and he had bought several CD sleeves with him in case.

“Severus…see here.” Petunia rapped at the tabletop, causing him to raise an eyebrow at her. “Swear to me.”

“What?”

“Swear to me that the second you start to feel something off, you’re telling me and we’re getting off this train. I don’t know how exactly, but we’re getting off.”

Severus rolled his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Toons, we’ve barely made it out of London…”

“I don’t care. Swear it, Severus!”

“Fine, yes, I promise to tell you,” Severus grumbled.

“Also I’m calling the shots. When I tell you we’re going, we’re going. There will be no ifs and buts, I am responsible for you during this trip and so help me, if you fight me, you are going to sorely regret it.”

Her directives made him clench his teeth, but there really was little he could do. Petunia’s presence already granted her default authority, and though Severus was loathe to do so, he knew agreeing to the path of least resistance was the most efficient way of getting through the trip with his sanity intact at the end. He could plot his revenge later.

“Fine,” he fought the urge to stick out his tongue, “but I don’t have to like it.”

“Good.” Petunia sat back in her seat, looking just a smidge bit relieved. “All we have to do is ride this out and hope your brain is calm enough the entire time.”

“I’ve told you though, the potions—” Severus stopped when Petunia hissed loudly, and begrudgingly corrected himself, “I mean, the medicine…it’s working this time around, believe it or not.”

“Working in what sense?” Petunia’s lips pursed. “It never does, or else Mum and Dad would have been crying in relief.”

“This batch works well enough. No fits so far while I’ve been on it, and it’s already been a fortnight.”

Petunia frowned skeptically. “But…? There’s always a ‘but’.”

Severus sighed. They had been battling his condition collectively for so long that none of them ever accepted any easy answers; doubt and anxiety always shadowed any sort of hope.

“There are some side effects. I didn’t really lie about being ill. The medicine makes me ill, but it’s just…fevers and headaches. Usually late in the afternoon then it lasts until early morning the next day.”

Petunia groaned. “You sod. And this is part of your plan too, I suppose? You’d taken into account that you’d be gallivanting off in the morning to the Midlands and coming back into London later in the day with a raging fever, is that it?”

“It’s hardly raging; it’s more annoying than anything.”He had debated not telling Petunia about the symptoms but had already learned from experience that it wasn’t wise. Besides, she already had the medi-bracelet from St. Mungo’s; she would know at any rate. “And a fever is child’s play. I’d take that over having a fit any day.”

“It’s hardly healthy to be getting those every day, Severus.”

Severus shrugged as he sucked on a Fruit Polo. The train was wobbling a bit even at the speed it was going, and it was already giving him a bit of a headache. “Well, if you’ve noticed, I’m not exactly the poster boy of health anyway.” He would have scrapped the entire plan if the new potions mix had had a worse effect, but since it hadn’t, the point was moot. He just had to do his utmost best to not be triggered into a fit which was, quite honestly, easier said than done, but Dad always quoted about boats being in harbors and their not being made for that, so Severus figured this was something along those lines. “I can take it. I know my limits.”

“Oh, please.” Petunia scoffed, but said nothing more on the matter. She glared stormily out the window as the train sped past Greater London, as if the view was a personal affront. “This is insanity,” he heard her mutter to herself.

Her eyes flitted across the aisle to the other seats of the train, and Severus knew she was imagining the worst-case scenario and figuring out an exit strategy (or several). Petunia had always been a bundle of nerves and paranoia, and it had only seemed to grow worse as they got older. He watched as her fingers knotted and unknotted themselves on the table before they were clasped against the sides of her head.

“Ugh, I can’t believe we’re doing this. Mum and Dad are going to kill me.” She groaned into the tabletop, and Severus wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I am going to kill you.”

Severus scoffed. “I’m sure if you wait long enough, the epilepsy will do it for you. That way, you don’t have to get your hands dirty—what?” He was startled as Petunia gasped, lifting her head so suddenly that it nearly sent her toppling backwards into her seat. “What?”

“That isn’t funny! Severus, you mustn’t say things like that!” She had paled so much her freckles stood out in contrast. “Take that back!”

“Oh, so you can threaten me but I can’t say the truth? It is funny. Dad calls it gallows humour.” He left out the bit where Dad didn’t like him making jokes about his illness either, but he didn’t often tell Severus off for it. “You just said it yourself: it’s hardly healthy to be ill this much. And at some point you’re going to have to accept—”

“Oh, just shut it,” Petunia snapped, and this time, there was real heat in her words. “Shut up right now. We’re not discussing this, not now, not ever.”

“What? You were the one who started—”

“Shut it, Severus!”

Severus bristled at being scolded and dismissed. It had been a while since he’d been alone with Petunia in such close quarters, and he’d forgotten how maddening it could be. While both his sisters had the habit of yo-yoing through emotional extremes, Petunia’s mood swings carried with her the weight of her authority as oldest and made it near impossible to defy her lest she follow through on any hidden or implied threats. Plus she could be downright nasty without trying.

“I didn’t ask you to come along,” Severus said. He felt so cross with his sister at that moment that felt compelled to goad her into an argument, consequences be damned. “You decided that all on your own, so don’t take it out on me. I didn’t want you here.”

“Well that makes two of us,” Petunia glared at him. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured my free day would be.”

“You can leave anytime, you know. The next station is in twenty minutes.”

“And that’s how we solve this, you reckon? I don’t have a choice, Severus!”

“Yes, you do because I don’t want you here! Look, I’ll pay you to go back.”

“Are you being serious right now? You realise I can put a stop to this merry jaunt of ours in a snap if you push me to it?”

“Do it then,” Severus was tired of her holding her authority over him. This trip shouldn’t have been that difficult but with Petunia there it was starting to feel like pulling teeth. “Do it already. You keep threatening to so just do it. I don’t care. I don’t.”

Somehow, he was close to tears although he couldn’t understand why. His head felt hot and heavy and his eyes stung. Petunia looked at him incredulously.

“The only reason I’m here,” she said slowly, “is I know…I can see how much this means to you. I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. But even without your condition, you’re still only thirteen. I don’t care how grown-up or invincible you think you are. You aren’t going across the country alone with only your service dog for company.”

Severus’ face burned. “You think I’m too weak.”

“I think you’re a child.” Petunia said exasperatedly. “A rather reckless and stupid one, I might add.”

“You realize you being here with me makes you rather reckless and stupid too? You’re in as much danger being here with me than if you’d just stayed behind.”

“Yes, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take! That’s my business, not yours. Besides, there’s no way I could have made any other decision.”

“Why? You clearly have more important things to do and I’m always bothering you and everyone else. I would’ve thought you’d have liked a day off to yourself without being shackled into taking care of someone else—”

“You’re not ‘someone else’, you’re my brother, you idiot, and I’m not leaving you alone!”

The statement halted their argument in its tracks. Severus had already been close to being properly angry but found that he couldn’t think of a rebuttal to Petunia’s claim. He shut his mouth with a snap of his teeth and glared at his sister instead. Their small corner was quickly plunged into a filled silence and for a moment, they stared at each other, unyielding, but then Petunia’s gaze softened, and she sighed.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you an idiot. But you are a child, literally, and that’s not something you can use as a defensive argument. You are also being an utter pain in the arse right now but that’s also because you’re my little brother and that’s part of your job description. Now, look…I really don’t want to argue on a train of all places. Let’s just agree that this entire situation is mad and be done with it. We’ve already paid for the bloody tickets so we should at least see it through.”

Severus glowered, not wanting her to get the last word in. “You’re being a right tit too and I hadn’t even wanted you here.”

Petunia nodded sagely. “Touche.”

She held out her hand for a Fruit Polo and Severus grudgingly gave her one. It was as good a peace offering as any. They sat and sucked on their sweets in silence for a long while, listening to the clacking and rumbling of the train on the tracks and each other’s slowing breathing. It was just calm enough to lull him into a stupor, which felt rather nice, given that his headache had persisted throughout their fight and had steadily grown to a dull throb.

“Why are you doing this anyway?” Petunia’s voice floated over to him in the haze. “Why go back to Cokeworth at all? Didn’t we already do well leaving all that behind?”

Severus opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them. He frowned at being caught off-guard. “I’m not playing Twenty Questions.”

“It’s a simple enough question seeing as we’ve already had a hundred arguments and I’ve already lost at least a hundred quid to this madness.” Petunia’s words were harsh, but her tone was mild. She wasn’t picking a fight; she was genuinely curious. “We’ve not even been back in Cokeworth since we left and now, all of a sudden, you skip your beloved lessons and lie to our parents in a fit of inspiration? The least you can do is tell me why.”

Severus bit his lip, unsure of his desire to share any more than he had to. His chest felt tight around the memory of the day he saw Tobias, larger than life but washed out and faded, standing on the street where they lived. It was his closest-guarded secret and one he hadn’t even breathed a mention of to anyone, not even to Lily. The conversation he’d had with him hadn’t even lasted five minutes, but Severus recounted it almost obsessively, picking through his father’s words and expressions, the small movements of his hands and the slump of his shoulders. He’d known then that he had to go back to Cokeworth, but the exact reasons were lost even to him.

“Ghosts,” he said simply, and Petunia frowned.

“Ghosts,” she repeated. She studied his face, worry pinching her features. “Severus…” and now her voice was gentle, “…did something happen?”

“No.” Severus said, the lie rolling easily from his tongue.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Severus breathed. “I just need to see it again, I think.”

Petunia’s face took on a strange expression. “Listen, I know we hardly talk about it but you have to know that it may not be what you expect or remember. I just want you to realise that. You were very young…and things…things were very very different.”

“I know,” Severus had already considered the possibility that what his glitchy memories could recall was far from reality, and the few photos they had at home didn’t really do it justice, “but it’s still worth seeing for myself.”

Petunia looked unconvinced, in fact she looked ready to put a stop to the trip once and for all, but she didn’t. She crossed her arms again unhappily but leaned further back in her seat as though in resignation.

“We’ll stay an hour and a half at the most. And we’re getting lunch first. You’ve gone all pale so I don’t care what you say, you’re drinking your second set of medicines where I can see you. Any arguments and I’m taking all of us back. I don’t care if we would have to get a cab all the way back to London. Clear?”

Severus gave her a grateful nod, glad to obey her orders for once. Bossy as she was, having Petunia there meant that he wasn’t required to think of the menial things, which was nice. He also realised that as badly as he had wanted to go back to Cokeworth, he also didn’t want to dwell too much on the matter. The memory of town itself felt like an old wound that still ached when touched or jostled, and he didn’t really want to figure out why that was until he had to, until he was there. If he had been alone, he wouldn’t have been able to help himself from picking at it his thoughts until they rattled about his head, unanswered. It would have eventually driven him mad. Arguing with Petunia and generally having her there had quieted them down somewhat, and for that he was relieved.

“Right, I’m just going to ignore you for the next hour then. I’m knackered and I don’t want another fight. Count sheep in the meadow and don’t bother me unless it’s an emergency.”

Not that he would have ever told her though.

“Crystal,” Severus said, before rolling over in his seat and shutting his eyes, soothed by the rhythmic clacking that surrounded them and warm in the knowledge that he wasn’t alone.

tbc

the story about tobias' unexpected visit to severus is here.

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 20: only one bed

kard 1.5k words female reader insert Reader x Matthew Kim (BM) NSFW

🖤 warnings: inappropriate coworker relationships, yes i turned one of the all-time best tropes into a prompt be mad about it🖤

🎂 happy matthew day~

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

This all sounded way less ridiculous on paper.

Or, like, in an email.

When they were planning the room arrangements for this company trip, you'd thought it was no big deal to volunteer be placed in a mixed-gender room. There just wasn't the budget to put everyone separately, and not enough pre-planned pairs to make it work without mixing different branches together. It seemed like a simple courtesy to say that you'd be okay with someone from a different branch, and a different gender, if it came to all that.

But once you saw the final lineup, you knew you'd be in for it.

Not that you got a bad roommate, or anything. You've actually met him a few times before, and he's a cool guy. Very gentle, polite.

He's just also extremely hot.

You've never really registered exactly how hot, before. Over the three or four other conferences like this one, you've always been glued to your work bestie. But she transferred departments, and now here you are.

Here, at the open bar that the company set up in the hotel lounge, watching him chat with a group of people.

His suit jacket is long gone, his shirt unbuttoned by a few more inches than it was when he arrived this afternoon, showing a deep v of tanned, firm chest. His bleaches hair is starting to come out of its neatly-gelled part, strands falling into his face elegantly.

One of the women from the newest branch is wearing a little sash...it's her birthday, you assume, squinting over the rim of your glass at her. And it looks like he's in the process of buying her a drink for it.

If it was anyone else, you'd figure that they were trying to make a move, but Matthew Kim is just that nice. A little bit of a player, if memory serves, with the smooth talking and earnest extroversion, but a very sweet guy overall.

You lose track of your very hot roommate after a while.

Your boss finds you, and makes you participate in a very long toast to the success of the conference, and after that, Matthew is long gone.

It's not that birthday girl, because she's still here with her coworkers, but you assume (based on nothing, admittedly, nothing but looks) that maybe he's hunting somewhere else. He seems like he's the party type, anyway. Maybe he's going somewhere else for a second round. Who knows.

Conferences are supposed to be "fun," but you all do still have meetings in the morning. You've had about all the fun you're going to have, tonight.

You bid your coworkers a good night, and you retreat to your room.

You just want to get through this trip without anything embarrassing happening.

So, of course, you run into your very hot roommate at the elevator.

He's standing there, waiting, button already pressed, when you walk up, and he looks nothing but happy to see you.

"Oh, hey," he grins. "Goin' up?"

"I'm done for the night," you agree.

"Feel that. I wanna take a shower and crash."

You'd neglected to process, until this moment, that the two of you are sharing a shower, too.

"Yeah, I'm exhausted," you find yourself saying, anyway.

The elevator arrives with a ding, and the two of you are quiet on the ride up. Both playing with your phones, and while your calm is completely forced, his seems natural.

You go to the room in companionable silence.

But once the door is unlocked, and the two of you go in, there is one glaring problem.

"That don't look like two doubles," Matthew says.

He's right. The room that you'd been promised, a double room with two beds, instead has one luxurious queen. Your privacy and his, assured by the HR people arranging this trip, are all but gone.

The only thing your traitorous brain can think, though, is that this situation isn't half bad.

"I'll call the front desk and see wassup," Matthew says, going for the room phone.

He puts the call on speaker.

"I'm so sorry, but we're fully booked. Unless you're able to switch with other members of your booking party, there's really nothing we can offer aside from compensation after the stay..."

The concierge sounds properly apologetic in corporate, and you can't blame them for this. It is what it is.

"That's gonna be more trouble, isn't it?" Matthew asks you.

"Yeah."

"Then we'll jus' figure it out," he decides.

Figure it out.

Okay.

Figuring it out turns out to mean Matthew taking a shower, and then you taking a shower, and then both of you standing on your respective sides of the bed. The energy is indescribable.

"You sure this is okay?" he asks.

You wonder what kind of face you're making, that makes him think he has to ask that.

"As long as you're okay, too," you say.

"Can I just..."

You nod, and he peels back the duvet and makes himself comfortable. There's something kind of intimate about joining him under the covers right away, so as casually as you can, you lay on top, instead.

He doesn't comment on it. Gracefully, he just rolls over to one side and gets back on his phone until you get comfortable.

And after you've wriggled yourself into a comfy spot, he asks you, "Did you have a good time?"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, it was nice," you say. "Did you do birthday shots with what's-her-name from Chula Vista branch?"

Matthew laughs. "Just like...one."

You're not jealous, you're really not, but there's a very particular feeling under your skin that you can't shake.

"Nice."

"You coulda joined it."

You shrug. "Don't know her. It'd be weird."

"Nah."

You venture out on a limb. "I'm assuming there's no partner in the mix who's gonna get mad about you, like, buying birthday shots? And sleeping here?"

"No girlfriend," he affirms.

"A hunk like you?"

He laughs again.

The two of you aren't looking at each other, which is good, because you're audaciously embarrassed that that horrible sentence came out of your mouth. Either sentence, honestly. What business of yours is it, if he has a partner?

"Not much time," he says.

"Could have tried to bag that birthday girl," you joke.

"I think she's married," he muses. "Wouldn't be cool."

"Yeah, true."

Matthew turns to peer over his shoulder at you. "How 'bout you?"

"I'm not married," you say.

"I figured. But like...nobody back home?"

You've still been staring at your phone, until now. You glance at him.

"No."

You guys have eaten meals together maybe three times. You've gotten drunk together at least that many times. Your total time in his company is definitely less than one calendar day.

You've shared a bed, now, for about four minutes.

So the path from that to tugging Matthew on top of you and kissing him senseless is a little foggy.

He lets you, though. He laughs, a little, and he rolls easily into you, pulling the covers with him. They form a frustrating little barrier between the two of you, but that doesn't matter yet. You've got your arms around his neck, his hand planted in the mattress beside your shoulder, holding himself up as he curls around you and meets you inch for inch.

"S'goin' on?" he asks, sly.

Honesty is the best policy, you decide. "Anyone ever tell you you're super hot?"

"Maybe once or twice."

His words are cocky, but his smile is small and pleased, the genuine and slightly bashful expression of a guy who isn't used to being complimented like that.

"You should hear it more often, holy shit," you say.

He laughs again, louder.

"Would it be out of pocket to say that I'm curious what's under those lil pajamas?" he asks you.

You'd packed some demure and cozy sleepwear for this trip, normal t-shirt and long pajama pants. It seemed practical at the time, but now all you can think about is the sheer number of square inches of skin that are being cut off from touching Matthew, in his muscle tee and basketball shorts.

"You can be curious," you say. "Just depends if you're gonna do something about it."

"Ooh. You're kinda fun."

"I try."

You go for the hem of your own shirt, before he can. But he catches your wrist gently.

"Can I?"

"Of course. But you gotta make it fair," you tell him.

He strips off his own shirt before going for yours, and you're so transfixed by the sudden sight of his shredded torso - abs, pecs, lats, other things that you don't know the name of, scattered tattoos in thick ink - that you barely blink as he gets the garment off and flings it away to the room at large.

Your bottoms, and his, are lost just as quickly.

"I bet," Matthew says suddenly, halfway down your torso to do a little exploring below the waist. "Yo, I bet that the hotel staff did this on purpose."

"Did what?"

He smacks the mattress with one hand. "The bed."

You snort. "We were set up. Damn."

"Worked out kinda good for us, though."

"I'd say so."

Matthew continues his descent, telling you very seriously, "I hope these walls are kinda soundproof."

Oh, jeez. He's implying- "Why?"

"Cuz I think my boss is in the next room, and I really don't wanna have to explain this tomorrow."

[cookies-and-music]

Ghost. - part 8: Atonement.

This chapter's musical suggestion is either What was I made for? or Ocean Eyes, both by Billie Eilish (couldn't decide).

Part 1 here - part 9 here.

PAIRING: TVA!LokixOC

RATING: ALL

SUMMARY: Loki meets sombody at the TVA he once knew. Unfortunately she doesn't seem to remember him.

"Mobius, you don't understand, we found him. The man at the end of time." Loki ran a frantic hand through his hair, pacing in circles in the hallway. "We fought, and-"

"Loki."

The voice didn't come from Mobius. Loki turned and saw Lydia at the end of the hallway, with a hand over her mouth and wide, moist eyes.

They stared at each other for a moment.

"Lydia?" Loki tilted his head to the side before being pulled in different directions, as if he had become some sort of mush.

"Loki!" She cried, crossing the hallway towards him before he disappeared... and reappeared shortly after.

"What was that?" Lydia looked bewilderedly from Mobius to Loki, who shook their heads without responding, implying that they didn't even know. "Are you okay?"

"It's not as bad as it looks," Loki moved his neck to loosen it.

"You need help" Mobius grabbed his arm, beginning to walk, and Lydia positioned herself on Loki's other side. Her proximity made Loki tense; he wanted to tell her that she was a damn traitor, but there would be time for that later. He wouldn't be able to speak if he kept disappearing without completing a sentence.

"Does it look that bad?" he asked them.

"Noo..."

"Absolutely not..."

---

"Hey," Lydia approached Loki, leaning on a railing to observe the landscape of the TVA citadel.

He turned towards her but didn't respond, looking back outside.

"I got you this" she handed him a takeaway cup with tea. "I'm not sure if you like it; I might have put too much sugar." As she prepared it, Lydia realized that it had always been him taking care of her, with small gestures like bringing her a hot drink when she was stressed.

Loki glanced from the cup to her before grabbing it with a nod and returning his gaze to the citadel.

Lydia mimicked him, taking a deep breath and a sip of coffee, hoping it would give her the courage she lacked at that moment.

"I'm glad you and Mobius managed to solve the problem of... you know... the disappearing act."

"Yeah."

"Yeah," Lydia looked down at her shoes and took another deep breath.

"I wanted to apologize" she turned to him.

Loki finally looked at her, furrowing his brows.

"You... you were right about me. I was wrong, I turned my back on you in the name of what I thought was my duty and my ambition." Lydia took a deep breath, evidently, just looking at him was enough to take her breath away.

"I'm a soldier, Loki. I'm given a mission, and I execute it, and for me, that's all there is. But in doing so, I lost a piece of my humanity, with every manipulation and every lie. It's true, I hurt you while you've always been a friend to me." She mustered the courage to look him in the eyes, but it failed her. "And for that, I apologize. I don't know if you can forgive me or trust me again-"

"Lydia."

She fell silent.

"It's been a long time."

“Has it?" Lydia tilted her head.

"For me, yes. A lot of things happened..."

It wasn't clear to her what he meant, as for her, it had been a couple days, or at least she thought, but she figured his words to do with his time jumps, or with the multitude of events he had experienced.

They looked at each other for a few seconds, and Loki saw that her face had a guilty expression, similar to the one he had seen on his own for several days, when he had believed her dead, before meeting her at the TVA. The expression of someone confessing their sins to a ghost.

"You sold me and Sylvie out to Renslayer to satisfy your ambition and quench your anger," Loki spoke calmly, as if he were just stating facts, and Lydia couldn't find anything to say in response, lowering her eyes under the weight of the truth.

Loki observed this too, before continuing. He was hurt by her, of course, but deep down, he felt he understood the feelings that had driven her and the weight of the consequences it carried.

"But I suppose I'm the last one who can condemn such things" he sighed to himself.

"I don't know if I can trust you again, but if it's forgiveness you seek" Loki captured her gaze with his "then consider it granted."

Lydia let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, captivated by his blue gems, and smiled at him, miming a "thank you" with her mouth. He nodded.

Lydia leaned on the railing next to Loki, and both took a sip of their respective hot drinks, savoring the silence for a few minutes.

"Would you mind telling me what happened down there, with... Sylvie?"

Loki moistened his lips before beginning. "We found him. The man at the end of time. We fought, and she pushed me through a time door."

"Why?" Lydia felt like she was missing a step.

"She betrayed."

A second passed.

"Well, clearly, you have a type."

That was not funny, but Loki laughed anyway.

Our boy is back, as promised. Gotta go fix my hair now, tomorrow it's monday and I have a real job, as a functional adult. Have a nice week everyone!

As usual, don't forget to like, comment and everything else.

[delphi-dreamin]

In the Hearts of Two

Secret kisses and not-so-secret kisses

Fandom: Palia

Relationship: Hodari x Delphi (OC)

Word Count: 4.5k

Rating: Suggestive, but not explicit.

Notes: A 5+1 in the year of our lord 2024? It's more likely than you think. Thank you, thank you, thank you to @yourboyhack for keeping me writing on this one! (And for reading my handwriting, lol!)

One

“Here ya go, ladies,” Ashura says. “A flagon of mead for Sifuu, a pint of ale for Delphi, and an ormuu milk lassi for Delaila. Enjoy.”

“Thanks, Ashura!” Delphi chirps, giving him a bright, glassy smile as he turns to go back to the counter. He gives her a gentle smile and pats her shoulder before he goes, his low chuckle almost drowned out by Delaila’s laughter.

She waits until Ashura reaches the check-in counter before leaning over the table and teasing, “Sifuu, when are ye goin’ to ask him out? Ye’ve been givin’ Ashura eyes for years now!”

Delphi nearly spits out her beer at Delaila’s words, but catches herself and coughs, “I’d like to know the answer, too, please!”

Sifuu’s normally lavender cheeks flush a dusty violet and her eyes go wide. It’s a reaction Delphi’s never seen before, though she does recall through her alcohol-induced haze the retired monster hunter mentioning more than once that she’d been thinking about asking the innkeeper out. She hadn’t realized how much feeling was actually behind her musings.

Before she has to reply, Sifuu’s gaze focuses behind Delphi and she breaks out in a wide smile.

“Well, would you look at what the palcat dragged in!” Her voice is booming as usual, and she nearly overturns her drink waving in the direction of the inn’s entrance. Delphi doesn’t have time to look back before Sifuu is calling, “Hey Hodari! Haven’t seen you out this late in years!”

Delphi feels her own face heating when she hears Sifuu call Hodari’s name. She downs the entirety of her pint, nearly choking when a hand lands softly on her shoulder.

“Hey, Sifuu,” Hodari chuckles, squeezing Delphi’s shoulder lightly. “I was actually out lookin’ for Delphi, here.”

Delaila and Sifuu exchange glances and Delphi’s face goes white hot.

“Went out to your plot, but you weren’t home,” he drawls, seemingly unaware of the gears turning in both of the older women’s minds. “Figured I’d check the local waterin’ hole. Got a minute?”

Delphi coughs, wishing for all the world that she had more beer in her glass. She finally turns to look at Hodari, clearing her throat before replying, “Yeah, I can, uh, step out for a minute.”

She pointedly doesn’t look back at Sifuu and Delaila as she follows him out into the cool night. She expects him to stop at the square, probably to ask for her advice or assistance with Najuma, but he surprises her. He leads her from the inn toward Jel’s shop, then around to the back of the building.

“Hodari, what—”

She's cut off by his gloved hands cupping her cheeks. Her heart races at the contact, the drunken haze clouding her mind dissipating immediately. Her awareness narrows down to the soft smile on his lips, the apologetic tilt to his brows, the gentle circles he trace with his thumbs, and the heat beginning to pool in her belly.

“Sorry to pull you away like this, darlin’,” he murmurs, brushing her bottom lip with one thumb. “I was hopin’ I’d find you at home.”

“It’s okay,” Delphi breathes, willing her traitorous eyes to remain open, despite the overwhelming urge to close them and melt into him. “Is something wrong?”

“Nah,” he chuckles, his blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “I’ve just been wantin’ to do this all day.”

He pulls her in closer as he dips his head down, his lips finding her in a tender kiss. It barely lasts a moment, but she feels it like a bolt of lightning. It could be the beer or the cool breeze that rustles her hair and clothes, but she can feel a tingling sensation spread to her fingers and toes. It lingers within her, even as he backs away and bids her good night.

Two

He’s exhausted, knees and back aching, by the time he surfaces from the mines. Cursing under his breath, he realizes he’s lost track of time again. Luna and Ignis are high in the sky, the stars twinkling to the tune of the crickets chirping, but Hodari barely notices any of it as he trudges home. Najuma needs dinner and he still needs to finish up some things in the workshop before he can even think about going to bed or taking a warm bath to soothe his aching joints.

He’s crossing the bridge to the house when he notices the smell of cooking meat and the almost musical sounds of laughter coming from the covered table in the yard. As he approaches, the tension melts from his shoulders and he finds himself smiling.

Najuma sits at the table, chatting animatedly about a new invention while a large pot bubbles on the stove. A familiar figure sits across from her, with pink curls and sparkling violet eyes, listening with rapt attention as Najuma regales her with tales of explosions and collapsed chaapa burrows.

“Well shoot, if I’d known I was comin’ home to dinner, I’d’ve been home sooner,” Hodari jokes, propping his pick against the table.

“Dad,” Najuma groans, rolling her eyes while he chuckles.

“I’m just playin’, Najuma,” he laughs. The warm smile on Delphi’s face as she rises to stir whatever she’s cooking sets his stomach fluttering.

He thought he’d never feel like this again after Leta died, the butterflies in his stomach, the warmth spreading from his chest whenever she gives him that smile.

“Since you asked,” Delphi teases, turning off the stove. “I made sernuk noodle stew. Najuma told me you were working late and I was out hunting, so...”

“It smells great,” Hodari says, realizing for the first time how hungry he actually is. He watches her ladle stew into bowls, filling them nearly to the brim before placing two down in front of him and Najuma.

“Shit,” she hisses, shaking her head. “I forgot utensils. I’ll be right back.”

He watches her jog to the house, curls bouncing and hips swaying.

“Ugh! Gross, Dad,” Najuma scoffs, scrunching her nose in disgust. “I’m right here!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hodari sighs, huffing out a laugh. He playfully ruffles her hair as he gets up from the table, narrowly dodging her flailing arms when her goggles fall over her face.

He makes his way inside, not quite sure what he’s planning to do, but following his feet as they lead him into the kitchen. Delphi is reaching for something in an upper cabinet, standing on her toes. Her top is riding up, giving him a perfect view of her lower back and midriff. The pinkish skin looks so soft and warm that he finds himself taking his gloves off as he walks over to her so that he can feel it.

He squeezes her waist gently as first, then fully wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her silky, lavender-scented curls. Feeling her warm and soft in his harms, he can’t help the contented hum that escapes his chest.

“How’d you do it, darlin’?” he murmurs in her ear, smiling at the shiver it sends down her spine and filing it away for later. “Najuma loves you, and I haven’t felt like this in years.”

“Like what?” she breathes, her voice almost trembling.

“Take your pick,” he chuckles. He turns her around, resting his hands somewhere between the small of her back and the swell of her ass. With her violet eyes with and sparkling up at him, he finds his words. “Warm? Happy? Completely gobsmacked that you’d pick me?”

Her smile is as bright as the sun as she drapes her arms over his shoulders, and he thinks that smile could bathe even the darkest parts of him in its light.

“Of course I picked you, silly,” Delphi replies. Hodari watches with awe as she tilts her head toward him and draws in close, her lashes fluttering as her gaze drops to his lips. “You’re you.”

His heart soars as she presses her lips to his. They’re just as soft as the rest of her, maybe even more so. And she’s so responsive, opening up for him when he runs his tongue along the seams of her lips, moaning and wrapping her legs around him when he grabs her by the hips and lifts her onto the counter. He’s halfway to lifting her shirt off when they hear a yell from outside.

“Are you two done yet?” Najuma calls. “The stew’s getting cold and I’m starving!”

They look at each other, Delphi’s eyes wide and her lips swollen even as she sucks her lower lip between her teeth. She grins, chuckling, “Guess we’d better get back out there and feed Najuma before she plants a smoke bomb under my bed.”

Hodari helps her down from the counter, handing her the glass she was reaching for a smiling.

“Go on, then,” he tells her. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

After all the blood in his body redistributes properly.

Three

The rain came out of nowhere, the sky clear one minute and dark gray the next. It’s so unexpected that even the sernuk she was hunting didn’t have time to retreat into the forest to take cover. Delphi quickly unstrings and stows her bow before running for the nearest cover she can find. It’s a long run, but she finally ducks into the mine, mud up to her knees and her clothes completely soaked. She leans over, hands on her thighs, in an attempt to catch her breath.

She finally manages, the burning in her chest subsiding and the stitch in her side easing. She finds a rock near the entrance to sit on and begins stripping off her soaked hunting gear. The heavy cotton and leather slap against the hard-packed dirt floor as she drops the gear into an unceremonious heap, already not looking forward to dragging it all back home after the rain clears.

She’s attempting to wring the rapidly cooling water from her hair when a familiar voice calls out to her, surprised delight creeping into the drawl she loves so much, “Well hey, darlin’!”

“Hey,” she laughs, looking up at Hodari with a tired smile. “I didn’t think you’d be here this late.”

He shrugs. “I’ve been fixin’ some of the supports. Almost had a cave-in last week ‘cause some idiot went too deep into one of the walls down below.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, scratching at the back of his neck. “I threw ‘em out. Told ‘em to come back when they learn how to swing a pick right.”

He sits down beside her, eyeing her piles of soaked gear. He nudges her playfully on the arm and teases, “You fall in a lake or somethin’?”

“Ha-ha,” she replies, unable to hide her grin as she rolls her eyes and nudges him back. “I don’t know if you noticed, doing your best impersonation of a mole down here, but it’s absolutely pouring out there above ground.”

“I’m just messin’ with ya, darlin’,” Hodari chuckles, patting her knee.

“Oh, you’re so warm,” Delphi sighs. She can feel herself beginning to shiver in the cool air of the mine.

He laughs heartily, but wraps an arm around her and pulls her into his side. Hodari gently rubs her bare arms in an attempt to warm her up, smiling as her shivers begin to subside.

“Feelin’ better?” he asks, and feels her nod into his shoulder. “Good. Anything else I can do, darlin’?”

His heart nearly stops when she looks up with wide eyes, cheeks pink, and breathes, “Kiss me.”

And who is he to say no?

Hodari’s smile turns soft as he lifts her chin carefully and lowers his lips to hers. She meets him almost shyly, her breath shuddering as she turns toward him. This lasts a few seconds, but finally he feels her shift. She takes in a deep breath, her lips remaining on his as she rises and climbs into his lap. His hands slide up her thighs, coming to rest on her ass as she groans into him. Her hands come to fist in his hair and he groans as well, encouraging her with a light squeeze. She responds enthusiastically, grinding down against him with a whimper.

This goes on for what feels like hours, her breath turning ragged while the movement of her hips only grows faster and harder. Her hands are snaking down his chest, coming dangerously close to where his shirt is tucked into his gray work pants when a deafening clap of thunder shakes the ground and they both jump.

Their eyes meet for a moment before they both break out into breathless laughter. Delphi pushes her hair behind her ears and sighs, gently extricating herself from Hodari’s hold.

“I should probably get home before the path floods,” she murmurs, bending down to pick up her sopping wet gear.

Hodari clears his throat, adjusting himself, and suggests, “You could come over for dinner? Let your clothes dry out, maybe wait out the storm?”

Delphi’s grin is bright as she nods and says, “Yeah, alright.”

Four

Hodari isn’t sure exactly what the purpose of this gathering at the mayor’s mansion is. The food is usually cold, he’s forced to make small talk with half the village, and there’s never a place he can go wo just sit with his own thoughts, so he usually hates them. But tonight as Badruu is talking his ear off about field crickets getting into his cabbage crop, he finds himself glad he came to this one.

Across the garden, Delphi is laughing at something Reth said, her eyes sparkling brighter than the forest green dress draped elegantly around her. It hugs her curves just right, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. She’s wiping a tear from her eye when she catches him staring at her. She smiles softly, giving him a little wave before she returns to her conversation with the chef.

He endures the rest of Badruu’s rambling before politely excusing himself. He turns to the pavilion where he’d seen Delphi, only to find her gone, Hassian and Tau now in her place. He looks around the garden in an attempt to locate her, but she’s disappeared completely. He meanders into the mansion, seeing Sifuu and Ashura chatting animatedly in the dining room, with Tish and Jel in the library, their heads bent together over a glossy magazine page.

Continuing further into the house, he sees several other villagers before he finally locates her in the front drawing room, chatting with Kenyatta and Najuma. He approaches quietly, placing a gentle hand on her elbow. The smile she gives him when she turns to see who’s trying to get her attention could light up the whole of the village.

“Hey!” she exclaims, turning to him fully. “Najuma was just telling us about a new invention! You should join us!”

“I was actually wonderin’ if I could borrow you for a minute,” he replies, nodding toward the door.

“Yeah, of course!” she responds brightly. She turns to the others and waves, saying, “I’ll see you guys later!”

Hodari gestures for her to lead the way, and before he turns to follow, he catches Najuma rolling her eyes.

They step out into the front courtyard, and Hodari watches her walk down the steps, unable to take his eyes off her hips as she does. She leads him out of the courtyard, just to the far side of the brick wall. Immediately, his hands are on her hips and he’s crowding her against the wall.

“I take it you like the dress?” she giggles, half-heartedly trying to push him away as he begins to press hot kisses into the soft skin just below her jaw.

“Darlin’, I think you’re gorgeous all the time,” he growls into her skin. “But tonight?” A rake of his teeth against her collarbone. “In that dress?” A squeeze to her hips. “You could outshine Embra herself.”

Her hands are in his hair, holding him close as his lips, teeth, and tongue caress and claim every inch of visible skin. He can feel her heart racing, hear her breath becoming more and more ragged. They’re changes he can feel mirrored in himself, nearly unable to think for the rushing of blood in his ears and the fire in his veins.

“Let me take you home,” he murmurs into the shell of her ear. “Maybe get you outta that dress?”

“Not tonight,” she breathes, and it almost comes out as a moan. She turns her head, pressing sweet kisses into his cheek and jaw. Chuckling at his disappointed groan, she adds, “The entire village is inside. Someone will notice if we both leave.”

Hodari drops his head onto her shoulder and sighs. He knows she’s right.

“I’ve already finished my virtues test,” she says, softly running her fingers through his hair. “And Sifuu’s agreed to be my Shepp. My Acceptance Ceremony will be soon, and then we can do this as much and as publicly as you want.”

She gently lifts his head and smiles at him before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I’m gonna head back in,” Delphi whispers. She pats his chest with another smile, then turns and heads back into the courtyard.

Five

“Shh!” Delphi giggles. “Someone will hear us!”

“Who’s gonna hear?” Hodari growls. “We’re in the middle of the woods!”

Their lunch lies abandoned at the corner of the blanket near their feet, a veritable feast for the insects that live in the underbrush. In the soft dappled lights from the canopy over head they lie, a tangled mess of limbs. Their tools and equipment are in a heap under a nearby tree, the light of the afternoon sun reflecting off the glimmering palium blades in rainbows that dance with the breeze rustling the leaves above.

It’s warm and cozy, and she breaks into another fit of giggles when he rubs his stubbly cheek against hers again.

“Auni camps out here all the time,” she gasps when his lips find her neck.

He huffs out at laugh, “Auni’s deliverin’ the mail. And he’s already been through the Bay.”

“And Hassian hunts out here!” she protests weakly, giggling and attempting to curl her legs up between them.

“Hassian went to the capital to sell pelts today. What is goin’ on, darlin’?” Hodari raises himself up onto his elbows, brows furrowed and lips turned down in a frown. “D’ya have somewhere else to be or somethin’?”

Delphi sighs, sitting up to face him. “It’s not that. It’s just...my Acceptance Ceremony is in three days. And you know I wanna do this right. I want to become a full member of Palian society so that there’s no doubt when we finally let everyone know.”

He takes her hand, staring down at it for a few moments before asking, “Doubt about what, darlin’?”

Delphi looks down at their hands, attempting to calm the swirling storm of her thoughts. The sour feeling in her stomach has been eating at her for days, ever since Eshe set the date for her ceremony. She wasn’t sure what it was at first. By all rights, she should be giddy with excitement. But there’s a lingering, insidious thought at the back of her mind. A tiny little shred of an intrusive idea that keeps telling her that maybe, just maybe, she doesn’t truly belong.

She takes a deep breath, exhaling fully before she begins, “I materialized out of thin air less than a year ago. I was told that I’m a member of a previously extinct race and that there’s no way of knowing exactly who I am or where I came from. My earliest memory is Jina’s shocked face while I sat on the ground at the base of the Phoenix Shrine.”

Hodari squeezes her hand lightly, nodding for her to continue. She smiles softly and nods back.

“I’ve worked until my fingers bled to build a life here. I’ve learned all the ins and outs of Majiri society and customs. I’ve made friends and a home, and I’ve found a wonderful, beautiful man with a lovely, brilliant daughter who I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

She raises their entwined hands to press a kiss to his knuckles.

“But at the end of the day, I’m still human. And you’re all Majiri. And as silly as it may sound, I’m still afraid that...someone, or everyone, is going to realize that I don’t belong here. And I just don’t want there to be any doubt that I truly want to be here and that I want to be a member of this community. For myself, just as much as for you and Najuma.”

Hodari looks at her with wide eyes and a slack jaw. He lets out a breath before pulling her into his arms. He holds her for a few moments before he seems to find his words.

“Darlin’, every time I go into the village, someone is singin’ your praises. They all love you.” He gives her a lopsided grin. “Almost as much as I do.”

She smiles softly, winding her arms around him.

“I love you,” she sighs, leaning in when he lifts her chin and lowers his lips to hers in a sweet, lingering kiss.

Plus One

“Oh, Delphi!” Tish gushes, her eyes alight. “It’s absolutely perfect! You look amazing!”

Delphi can feel heat rising in her cheeks as Tish showers her with compliments. She hadn’t even asked Jel to make the dress for her, it had been a surprise gift from him and Tish for her Acceptance Ceremony. But the soft, silky garment is the color of the sunset and drapes so beautifully that she couldn’t not accept it.

“It’s absolutely exquisite,” Jel agrees, turning her around to check the fit. “And I’m so glad we decided to go with the open back. Drawing that bow of yours has truly made you a sight to behold.”

“Thank you,” Delphi laughs. “Both of you. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for this.”

“You don’t have to repay us, silly!” Tish giggles. “It’s a gift! And besides, you’ve helped us both so much already, it’s the least we could do!”

“Consider it payment for everything you’ve done for us,” Jel adds.

“Now that we’ve covered all of that,” Tish says, clapping her hands. “Are you ready to go?”

She’d done well to tamp down the nerves until now. Tish’s and Jel’s attention had kept her distracted from the anxiety that’s been growing within her for days. Since her last conversation with Hodari, she’s been trying to remind herself that she’s made plenty of friends here and that the village is welcoming her with open arms, but reason means nothing in the face of irrational fear.

She takes a steadying breath and nods, letting Tish drag her out the front door with Jel following close behind.

It’s a short walk from Tish’s house to the mayor’s estate. The lights in the garden twinkle merrily as they enter, a cheer going up from the pavilion where Sifuu and Delaila are chatting. Delphi can’t help but laugh, waving at them. Everyone from the village is there, Kenyatta, Nai’o, and Najuma chatting in the corner, Tish and Jel leaving her with smiles and waves to go talk with Reth by the food table. She thinks she can hear Badruu laughing from somewhere inside the house, probably talking with Ashura if she had to guess. Jina, Hekla, and Einar are huddled in a corner, Jina taking notes as Einar and Hekla talk. Hassian and Tau are lurking in a corner, Tau’s tail wagging as he chases moths around the outskirts of the garden. She can hear Zeki attempting to sell Caleri something while Elouisa shakes her head. There’s only one familiar face she’s missing.

She pokes her head into the library, the dining room, and the front drawing room, but she doesn’t see him anywhere. She tries to tell herself that he’s just late or that he’s just in an area of the house she hasn’t checked, but when Eshe comes to find her in one of the wingback chairs in the drawing room she’s a shaking, nervous wreck.

“We're ready for you,” the magistrate tells her, frowning. “But you look like you’re about to faint.”

Delphi sighs, scratching at her arm nervously. “I’m sorry, Eshe. I’ve been freaking out about this all week. But I’m ready.”

“What were you looking for?” Eshe asks, raising a brow at her. “I saw you combing every room of the estate.”

She can feel her face warming at Eshe’s pointed glance and admits quietly, “Hodari said he was going to be here. I’ve seen everybody else, but I haven’t seen him…”

Eshe tuts, taking Delphi’s hand and helping her to stand. “The miner and his daughter arrived just before you did. They were setting up the fireworks for this evening.”

Delphi lets out a breath and nods, smoothing her dress. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Every eye is on her as Eshe leads her into the garden. Sifuu waits on the raised platform in the center of the garden, her smile wide and bright when she catches sight of Delphi approaching.  The rest of the village lines the walkway, their smiles just as bright as Sifuu's. Just before Eshe stops her, she finally catches sight of the face she’d been looking for. He’s half-hidden behind Hekla and Jina, but his smile when he catches her eye is warm and reassuring.

Eshe's speech is short and to the point, and when she asks if Delphi will accept Kilima Village as her home, there are tears in Delphi's eyes as she says yes. The assembled villagers' cheers are drowned out by the loud booming of Najuma’s fireworks overhead, their jubilant faces illuminated by the colorful explosions.

Najuma sits near the base of the platform, giving Delphi a thumbs-up and a grin. Delphi’s confusion is cleared up as a pair of hands grabs her by the waist and spins her around. Hodari grins at her, his cheeks rosy and his eyes sparking. He dips his head toward hers and says loudly enough for her to hear over the fireworks, “I’m gonna kiss you now. In front of the whole town.”

“Please do,” Delphi laughs. She throws her arms around his neck, giggling as he catches her by the waist and spins her around.

The kiss is a mess, teeth crashing together and lips bruising as they both laugh, but the way her heart soars and her stomach flips at finally being able to kiss him openly makes it worth it. There’s whooping and applause from all around them, Sifuu’s loudest of all.

Listen, I didn't want to fall in love with this man. I was happy with my shy hunter and my flirty chef. And I DEFINITELY didn't want to imagine being a step-mom. But then I got to know him and his daughter and fucking hell. I'm absolutely feral over him. And I'm absolitely smitten with her. I've got some other things in the works for Hodari AND Najuma, so probably look for those sometime...

Taglist: @biteable-pink-pixie @sassykattery @sparkbeast20 @kyungjoon-do @attic-club-sandwich @consolationblog @flemmingbamse @syren201 @denpa-dere

 (And if any of you just like...don't care about my Palia fics, please let me know and I'll add a note on my spreadsheet!)

[enzenwriting]

the feeling when

06 this is mcdonald drive thru ( 1.1k words!)

"Jungwon, you traitor." Jake whisper-yell at the younger boy next to him. Unbothered by the older boy's words, Jungwon continue to pull Jake in your direction. "I thought you were going to give me y/n's number instead? What happened to that? Where did this plan come from?"

"Oh please, you know Plan Z is always the better option."

"What happened to Plan A, B, C, D, and E first?" Jake holds Jungwon down, halting their steps

"Like you're actually going to message y/n if I gave you her number alone." Jungwon smiles, a teasing smirk tugging the corner of his lips. "I know you'll say something stupid and block her number."

"How would you know that? How would you know I won't say anything stupid now!" The panic evidence on Jake's face was enough to tease him for a lifetime. Oh, the boys were going to love this storytime.

"Because you have no game. You'll probably stay quiet like a kicked puppy today." Jungwon laughed, pulling Jake with him again, continuing the step to your figure. "And I won't let you run this time so, you have nowhere to escape."

By the time Jake is ready to respond, he hears Jungwon's voice call your name. And just like in the movie, Jake feels like everything is suddenly in slow motion. You turn around, eyes wandering around to find the owner of the voice. Oh, the way your eyes instantly curve and a smile appears when you see them; adorable.

Jake can't seem to focus on anything other than the skip in his heartbeat and the twist on his stomach when you're walking towards them.

"Hi, Jungwon sunbaenim." You wave, pausing midway at the figure next to him "Oh? and Jake sunbaenim."

"How about we start without the honorific?" Jungwon laughs, cringing a little at the formality. Hesitantly, you agree at Jungwon's suggestion. "and let's sit inside the saunas? I don't see many people around there."

That's how you find yourself sitting on the floor next to the two tall males amongst a bunch of old people inside the steaming sauna. Chaewon has always told you they were a boisterous bunch, especially the noisy leader next to you who was mindlessly talking about the secret game room in the building. Jake, however, stays quiet the whole time. Studying Jake, you see him giggle at Jungwon's anecdotes. He doesn't meet your eyes nor react to your words, and you think he doesn't like you. A slight sadness hits your chest at the thought, but you don't let it bother you, or at least try not to show it anyway.

"Hey y/n, are you okay?" Jungwon's voice brings you back

You hum in response, unaware of their attention on you (and your weak tolerance of the sauna's heat); especially Jake. Jake was, truthfully, nervous throughout the entire time, he dared to even say he enjoyed listening to Jungwon just because he was self-conscious and distracted of your existence. But that doesn't stop him from stealing glances whenever you weren't looking at him. So when he notices your blank eyes, cherry cheeks and drops of sweats on your forehead, he instantly waves his hand to stop Jungwon from talking and shifts the boy’s attention towards your way.

"Uh, yeah. I think it's getting too hot for me here" Embarrassed, you want to leave quickly, but your legs had another plan otherwise. Feeling your legs weak from the heat, you lose balance and prepare for the fall;

But you don't.

Instead, you feel an arm around your shoulder just enough to support you and a hand lightly wrapped around your wrist to keep you steady. You think Jungwon's reflex was impressive, but when you see Jungwon in front of you with a concerned look, you're sure the heat wasn't the reason you'd pass out.

"Are you okay? I got you, don't worry" Jake's voice was so gentle and soft you couldn't find a sounds to answer back, so you give a quick nod, following both of them outside.

"You two sit here for a second. I'll get you something to drink" Jungwon rushes away.

"You can tell me when you can't handle the heat next time." You think this is the first time Jake has spoken directly to you, at this length too. And you think you want to hear more of his voice and talk to him too.

"Thanks." you ponder a little, quickly thinking of anything to say back to avoid the awkwardness. "I don't understand how people stay in there for so long"

"I grew up in Australia, I'm used to the heat." Jake mutters mindlessly "Only psychopath stays inside for so long even if they're not used to heat"

"Did you just call me a psychopath" you fake gasp, hand dramatically falling on your chest

"wait- no"

"So I got us these yoghurt drinks-" Jungwon appearance interrupts, reaching out two packs of drink to you and Jake "Uh, did I interrupt something?"

"No." you giggle, looking at Jake.

"Okay? I'm just gonna ignore- wait. I forgot to get one for me!" Jungwon rushes out again, leaving you and Jake alone in silence for the second time.

It stays silent again, that is until Jake hears the light scrunching of plastic next to him, and his head snaps in your direction. The sight of you individually snapping the yoghurt bottle out of the plastic wrapper and stabbing your straw into it has his eyes wide, mouth stretched. His studious-borderline- judging- expression was so obvious to anyone passing by, but he couldn't help but question; how could you drink the yoghurt that way?!

"I knew it! Psychopath!" his words have you gasping at the accusation.

"I am not!" you defend, and a fake gasp leaves your lips.

"No one drinks yoghurts that way anymore! If you just keep them in the package and stab them with the straw, it's more convenient and so much easier to recycle."

"I drink them this way." You stick your tongue out, childishly answering him in a singing tune. It takes Jake a lot to keep his lips straight and his smile from appearing. "And, no it doesn't! You have to remove these labels on the bottles and they need to be cleaned inside to be recycled."

"Fair. You got me there" His eyes narrow at you. After a second of silence, his following words take you by surprise. "How do you eat Kit-Kats?"

"I break them and eat them," you answer at the random question.

“cereal first or milk first”

“Cereal”

"Left sock or right sock first?"

"Left sock"

"You put sock-sock or sock-shoe?"

"Sock-sock." you glare at the boy, a giggle bubbling in your chest. "Why are you asking these questions?"

"Just double checking you aren’t." And it takes a smile from Jake to have you both on laughing fit.

06 this is mcdonald drive thru

Summary: Joining an already debuted group, you find yourself at the centre of attention, controversy and a series of unfortunate chaotic events every time a certain pup boy is on the sight. But Jake Sim can’t seem to stop following you?!

prev / mlist / next

an: we’re all Sunoo. (p.s also never proofread)

Taglist! (Open! Please send ask to be join!🫶) @ineedaherosavemeenow @bubblytaetae @woneulz @kyuupidwrites @hoonvrs @nvmbheart @seungcheolswife @mika-t3t @theskzvibe @j-wyoung @haechansbbg @chaerybae @nujins @mimikittysblog @phenomenalgirl9 @zuzu-the-simp (unable to tag in bold! Please check your blog settings!💖)

[veralynna-blog]

My contribution to Durgetash

I figured since I think I can only post any fanfic I'm working on from any fandom only when its completed I might as well post a drabble so I don't go insane and maybe get some feedback. I'm not really sure where this lies in my timeline but definitely pre-amnesia. My canon Durge is Bellece and Enver is so down bad for this girl.

Tagged as mature because it is sex but not really graphic.

She imagined he would look similar when she finally had him on her Father’s altar. Sprawled out onto his back, head draped over the edge as she leaned over top him, dipping her fingers in his blood. A violent shudder ran through her as his fingers curled upward, touching some part of her that shouldn’t exist. This was too intimate. She pressed her heel into his shoulder, pushing him away. He was nearly breathless and begged to continue, asked why she had stopped him. She didn’t say it aloud, but she knew she didn’t deserve it. She may as well have been rotting from the inside, and yet he said she tasted sweet. Liar. More kind lies from the little tyrant’s mouth that he spewed to every noble, any patriar he needed to manipulate with his honeyed words alone. She was not like them. He could whore himself out as much as he liked but she would not be victim to it, and she found herself offended that he seemed to think her naive enough to fall for his same tricks. 

“Is there a point to any of this?”

“What do you mean?” His eyes were still hazy with lust, completely unguarded. It almost made her sick. 

“What do you possibly gain from embarrassing us both with this display?” She raised herself onto her arms, finally meeting his eyes. 

He was silent for a moment, his eyes searching hers for perhaps a sign that she was saying this in jest. “Do you find me inadequate?” A playful smile exposed his canine. “I’ve only just started… I assure you, if you allowed me to—”

She dug her heel deeper in his shoulder until he winced. “What do you gain from touching me?”

He slowly rose from the floor, repositioning her knee over his shoulder as he leaned over her, his wide body blocking the moonlight streaming in from the balcony window. “Nothing nefarious.” His breath ghosted over her lips. “I was surprised when you first appeared before me. The God of Murder should have a daughter that fits the rest of his bloody following, it’s what anyone would expect. Your skin does not match your blood, Bellece.”

She glared into the shadows obscuring his face. “My Father does not make mistakes, little tyrant.” 

“Of course not. Your Father laid the perfect trap when he made you so beautiful. It is a shame you can’t see it. That you can’t see what I see.”

Her traitorous tongue moved on its own. “What do you see?”

“My ruin.” He laid a kiss against her collarbone and she let him. 

“Is that all?” She scoffed. 

“I see you fix your hair behind your pointed ear and imagine you repeating the same motion before taking my cock between your lips.”

Her face grew unbearably hot. “Enver!” She scolded, alarmed as heat shot back down to her core.

A smile spread across his lips and he leaned into her neck, biting her flesh. “My name. Say it again.”

“No.” She tried not to mewl as he dipped his fingers back inside her, the softness of his touch mixing beautifully with the sharpness of his bite. She wasn’t meant to feel this, her Father created her to destroy, she shouldn’t— Bellece couldn’t control the volume of her voice as Enver moved his fingers faster and faster, the feeling inside her climbing higher and higher until it burned too hot. A desperate plea to her Father tumbled past her lips as she came, and it wasn’t until she opened her eyes that she realized that she’d fallen onto her back and her fingers were desperately clinging onto Enver’s coat. She wanted to recoil, to push Bane’s Chosen off of her, but froze when a dark chuckle rumbled against her throat. 

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptember 2023, Day 15

“I thought you were dead”

Faked death | Under the radar | Trail of blood

The Bee’s Whumptember Masterlist

~ 1280 words

CW: blood, choking, knife, stab wound, tied to a chair

(realized how similar this was to Spies Are Forever about halfway through, then just leaned even harder into that lol. enjoy)

the inspiration for the scene/easy listening/musical masterpiece: The Torture Tango from Spies Are Forever

------------

“You’ll never get away with this,” Agent hissed arrogantly as his wrists were bound to the rolly chair behind him. Villain turned and started making her way toward the door, clutching the briefcase she’d snatched from his hands moments ago. “My team will stop you from ending the world. We’ve done it before. We can do it again.”

Villain paused as she reached the door, sighing as if she were genuinely embarrassed by Agent’s shortsightedness. “You really are always two steps behind us, aren’t you?”

The door in front of Villain creaked open, revealing a figure bathed in shadows. “We’re saving the world, Agent.” A high, gruff, and impeccably accented voice came from behind. 

“From ever needing people like you again.”

Agent’s breath hitched, and his entire body going taut. The world halted around him. He probably would have collapsed right there if he wasn’t tied to a chair.

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t. 

“Spy…”

“Long time, no see, old friend.” 

A short, thin man stepped into the light. Unassuming in all the best ways. He was carrying a large bag, leather handles gripped tightly in long, slender fingers, which he placed on the nearby metal table as the rest of the room cleared out. Soon it was just the two of them.

Agent stuttered. “I– I– Spy… I thought you were dead… I saw you die, I was– I was– there… I mourned you!... I couldn’t function–”

“Mm, yes, one would think that when they leave someone for dead, wouldn’t they?” Spy interrupted coldly as he set his tools out on the table, one by one in a neat row. All the blood drained from Agent’s face, a new dread settling in his stomach like a gut punch.

“Fortunately, it takes a bit more than the freezing waters of the Arctic Ocean to kill someone like me.”

The wind howled around them, shivering against the sub-zero temperatures and moist salty air as sea spray crashed up around them. “Come along, Agent.” Spy flirted as Agent slid across the slippery metal grating. “No time to play now, the guard rotation’s about to switch.”

“Oh, calm down ya high-strung Brit. We’ve got what we came for.” Agent teased back, gesturing to what looked like a mini CD clutched in Spy’s hand.

“So– so– so you’re working for the bad guys now?”

Spy held up a pair of pliers to the light, smiling as Agent’s wide eyes tracked them unblinkingly. He set them back down neatly in their row. Right where they belong.

“I am the bad guys now, Agent.” He circled around Agent’s chair. “If that's how you want to put it, at least. If you were on my side of things, you might find it much harder to distinguish between the two.”

“Wait, wait, something’s wrong… Where are the guards?” Spy peaked around the corner tensely.

Realization dawned on Agent, and his eyes went wide. “The silent alarm…” he muttered. Spy whipped around to face his partner head-on. “The what-did-you-say?!”

“Well, I’m not on ‘your side’,” Agent spat, thrashing uselessly against his bonds as Spy grabbed the back of his chair and pushed him slowly closer to the torture table. Tears rimmed his eyes. “Because I’m not a traitor to my country.”

Spy stiffened suddenly. He sucked in a sharp breath. Then let out a very startling laugh. 

“Trait– Traitor to my country?” Spy was almost giggling. ��Traitor to my country’, you say? ‘Traitor to my country’ says the naive little agent who left me to the dogs.” 

Spy smacked Agent upside the head, before grasping a fistful of hair hair and pulling Agent painfully face-to-face.

“Says the man who is a traitor to his one and only partner.” Spy hissed. Agent felt his breath hot on his face, his brows furrowed in anger so close that Agent had to cross his eyes to see them.

“I– I–... I may have set off an alarm back there and didn’t want to tell you… on accident.” Agent spat out as fast as possible, clenching his eyes shut. Spy stared at him in disbelief. Boots could be heard thumping on the metal grate behind them.

“Run!” Spy grasped Agent by the shirt and pulled him along toward to rendezvous point as fast as he could. Their shoes squeaked against the slippery metal floor.

Spy tsked. “‘Traitor to my country’... I’m saving my country, Agent. I’m bringing it into the modern world. And I’m doing it without your ‘help’.” He air-quoted with his fingers, narrowing his eyes and grasping his knife as he stared off into the middle distance.

“Well, what about us, then?!” Agent begged. “What we had? What we were? Didn’t that mean anything to you?”

Spy slipped, crashing to the edge of the platform and barely managing to grasp onto the frigid metal bar of the railing as he skidded under it. His body hung hundreds of feet above midnight black subzero waters. The disk came to a stop right beside him, teetering on the edge. 

“Agent, HELP!”

Agent stared at his friend, dangling over the abyss, struggling to keep a grip on the freezing, water-slick metal. Then to the disk. His one and only goal. The mission objective. 

The stomping behind him grew louder, people shouting out for him to freeze. 

Spy. Disk. Spy. Disk. Spy. Disk. 

“Agent?... “ Spy squeaked. “Please.”

Spy cried out and pulled back the knife, slamming it all the way to the handle into Agent’s shoulder, burying his grief and anger and lost love in the man who had caused it. The man whom he grieved for.

Agent rasped in pain, a sharp and nearly silent gasp inward as the foreign blade suddenly penetrated his body. His eyes bulged and his breath stuttered as he struggled not to scream, muscles spasming around the metal, clutching at the knots that held him bound to the chair.

“That ‘us’ died when you left me for dead.” Spy hissed into Agent’s ear, holding Agent’s body oh so close to his own.

Agent lunged forward and palmed the disk. He scrambled up. He didn’t look back. He ran.

“WAIT AGENT, WAIT!!”

"I liked you better when you were dead," Agent panted through gritted teeth, tears dripping down into his lap.

Spy twisted the knife in Agent’s shoulder, earning him another gasp that nearly turned into a cry of pain. He straightened up, his face a mask of displeased indifference once more. “It’s all the same, Agent. I’m creating a new world now. A better world.”

He pulled the knife out with one last roll of the wrist, and dark, thick blood started gushing down, down, down, staining Agent’s white shirt, the chair, and the cold concrete floor under him. Agent gritted his teeth and whimpered into his lap, desperately trying to control his erratic breathing as the spy turned back to his deadly spread.

“One where you, and the rest of your little team, are completely obsolete. One that you won’t ever get to experience. Because I’ll rip that chance away from you like you tried to do to me. I'm gonna kill you for what you did to me.” 

Spy picked up a short length of rope, running it through his fingers, feeling the fibers scratch against his skin as Agent’s breath hitched behind him, the stench of blood filling his nostrils. How nice it would look around Agent’s neck, slowly choking the life out of his backstabbing lungs. Or maybe Spy could just literally stab him in the back. Or literally rip some things away, so to speak.

So many options. He clutched the rope again. Best to start slow, he wanted to enjoy this.

“But first, Agent,” Spy positioned himself behind his captive, looping the rope around his neck and pulling it tight, cutting off another strangled cry. 

"I’m gonna torture the living shite out of you.”

@whumptember

[aldbooks]

35 for Gwynriel or 23 for Elucien? 😍

Prompt list

First of all, I plan to answer both of these, because they're excellent choices, but the Elucien idea came to me easier so you can have that one first...

"Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to fall in love?"

---

Elain stared at the door in disbelief as she heard the click of the lock slide in place, trapping her inside. Betrayal sparked through her, hot and sharp, only fanned higher as she heard an exasperated sigh behind her and whipped around to face the bane of her immortal existence. Her mate.

Lucien had squeezed his eyes shut as he rubbed the space between his brows, before they snapped open again and that strange mechanical orb that served as his left eye scanned the door and then the room. "They've warded us in here as well," he stated dryly. "It's a good bit of spellwork, not that I couldn't break it if given enough time, but frankly I'm exhausted and haven't the energy. And Feyre knows that. This was a setup."

She scoffed quietly. A set up indeed. Elain had been enjoying her afternoon in the garden with her newly blooming roses when Feyre had called her in. She'd made it seem urgent so Elain had dropped everything and rushed inside to the room Feyre had indicated, only to find the small parlor occupied by only one figure. That last person she wanted to see. She'd skidded to a stop, stammering a half hearted apology and turned on her heel but before she could reach the door, it had slammed shut on a phantom, dark wind and been locked magically. From the outside.

The only thing that made her feel better was that Lucien seemed no more inclined to be locked in a room with her than she was with him. Thinking her energy might be better spent directing her anger at the person- or more likely persons- (her brother-in-law was a horribly nosy busybody these days) who had orchestrated this entire scenario. she balled her hands into fists, and shouted her sisters name in her mind, watching as Lucien flinched.

"Don't bother," he sighed, dropping down into a chair. His entire posture as he slouched against the back, his long legs sprawling out across the carpet was pure indolence, and despite herself, she found it oddly charming. "The wards include mental communication. From our side at least. I have no doubt they're monitoring this room from somewhere and have no intention of letting either of us out until they're satisfied with whatever goal they'd hoped to achieve. You might as well make yourself comfortable."

He waved a hand at the only other seat in the room which happened to be across from him. It was only then she noticed the lack of the usual sofas and chairs that littered the room to accommodate their friends who liked to stop by unexpectedly. Well played, sister. She could've sworn she felt a trickle of amusement filter back to her at the thought. 

With a deep breath for fortification, Elain carefully took the seat across from him, keeping her gaze on him the whole time. She wasn't sure what exactly she expected him to do, he'd just told her they were stuck in this room for the foreseeable future. It wasn't as though he could just grab her and whisk her away somewhere, force her to accept the bond and do mother only knew what to her. Did she really expect that her sister and Rhysand would just sit by while he- what? Ravaged her in this room against her will?

Would it really be against your will? some traitorous part of her whispered darkly. She shook the thought off, fighting the rising well of desire the thought brought. For some reason she couldn't fathom, she was attracted to this male. Though he seemed to be the exact opposite of the sort she normally was attracted to. What? Mysterious, handsome males with dark hair and wings? Or perhaps pretentious lords with lots of money and even more prejudice?

A growl slipped out of her before she could stop it. Lucien, who had leaned his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes, slid one open. Russet peered at her curiously as she smoothed her skirts and generally pretended she hadn't just made such an inhuman noise. With a soft sniff, he closed the eye again and resumed his relaxed position. 

She took the opportunity to look him over, noticing the signs of exhaustion he had hinted at before. His clothes looked as though they'd been worn for a long time, the collar of his shirt gaped open more than usual, his waistcoat half unbuttoned, his long hair had been pulled back in a sort of half bun that looked hastily done and there were dark shadows in the golden skin under his eyes. The steady cadence of his breath told her he was on the verge of falling asleep already. He looked so dishevled, almost vulnerable, she felt herself softening towards him, the bond between them urging her to see to his comfort. Which, of course, only served to piss her off. 

"Why are you so tired?" she blurted out, a bit harsher than she intended. He jerked slightly, his eyes blinking open as though he truly had fallen asleep. 

"I just returned from a trip to the continent to discuss trade agreements," he explained, his voice rough. "I was headed back to Spring to rest before seeing to my obligations there when Rhysand reached out, insisting I report immediately instead of later this week as originally planned. The extra winnowing was an excessive drain on my power."

Well, that certainly explained his appearance and unusually unguarded manner. A niggling of concern for him began to swell up, but she quickly squashed it. He was nearly three hundred year old, he could handle himself. 

When she said nothing in response, he gave a little sigh and closed his eyes again. Politeness dictated she let him sleep, he certainly seemed to need it. But she was so agitated and uncomfortable at the situation they'd found themselves in, she couldn't seem to keep her mouth shut. 

"What do you want?"

This time he lifted his head to look at her fully. "I beg your pardon?"

She blushed at his scrutiny. His gaze had always felt too much. Too intense, too longing, too sad, too hungry, too disappointed. Now, it was too curious. He watched her like he was trying to see straight through to the heart of her. She disliked feeling so exposed. She wished she could keep her mouth shut and ignore him, but she'd never been good at silence. Especially the last few years since... She stopped that train of thought before it could gain steam. 

One of her favorite things about living with Feyre and Rhysand, was that their house was never quiet, even when they weren't there. The servants were friendly and kind, and the other members of their group had a tendency to trope in and out of the house without invitation as though it were their own homes. And with a toddler in the house now, there was always something going on.

Lately though, she'd found herself wanting- not more exactly, but something... different. It had taken her a while to realize that this longing she felt was because she wished for a family of her own. She had expected to already have one with Graysen by now, but that path had been taken from her several years ago now. It was time to move on. Still, she could not help but still want those things, and the more she thought about wanting them, the more she felt that little golden string in her chest tugging her in one clear direction. A direction she stubbornly resisted. She would not allow some mystical cauldron, the same one that had turned her fae and taken away that future with Graysen, to dictate where her life would lead her now. She refused to accept this fate that had been decided for her. Perhaps that was silly. As a seer herself, she understood the inevitability of fate and the longer she avoided it, the sillier it seemed, but she would not give in... at least, not yet.

Deciding this was as good a time as any to address some things that had been left unsaid between them for long enough, Elain drew herself up, squared her shoulders and addressed him with the same frankness he watched her with. "What is it you want from me?"

He sat with that preternatural stillness that fae had that still unnerved her, though she knew she sometimes did it herself when deep in thought. Finally, he replied. Just one word that threw her entirely off balance. "Nothing."

She blinked in surprise. "I'm sorry? Nothing? What do you mean?"

"Just that," he said simply. "I have no expectation of you. I never have. I know this is all foreign to you, just as it was for your sisters. I have no intention of rushing you into something you're not ready for- or do not want."

She stared at him, realizing her mouth had fallen open, but could not seem to close it as she gaped at him. "I- you-" came her very intelligent reply. "You... do not wish to formalise the bond?"

He seemed amused by that for a second before shrugging and leaning back in seat once more. "I know most fae might think it strange, but I know that mating bonds are not the end all be all. They do not always guarantee a harmonious union." He said nothing else for a long moment before continuing, his words careful. "I do hope to have a family- some day. Currently, I'm not in a position to readily support one, however. I travel constantly, have no steady home..."

She could hear the sadness in his voice. The longing. Sympathy for him washed over her in a sudden flash of understanding. He wanted a home. Something so simple, something she took for granted. To her, home was not a place. It was not a structure; bricks and mortar. It was the people in it. The companionship and belonging. She'd been displaced from the houses she'd lived in several times already, but she was young, and now immortal. There would be plenty of time to settle. When she was ready.

But for someone as old as Lucien, who had spent most of their life moving from place to place, on the whims of others, what might home mean to them?

If he saw or sensed her thoughts, he did not say. "I do not know you well, but from what I do know, I think we might suit. I had hoped to eventually have the time to determine that for ourselves but... there's no rush. And, as I said, I do not wish to push you into something you do not want."

Her heart gave a slight flutter. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you think we'd suit?"

He gave her his full attention once more, his expression cautious. "Well, I believe we have similar temperments. Similar values. You are loyal, caring, resilient-" that fluttering in her heart increased. She wasn't sure anyone had ever referred to her as resilient. People had a tendency to treat her like a doll. fragile and breakable...

He shrugged and she realized he'd continued speaking but she hadn't heard what he'd said. "I think, if given time to know one another, we could be good partners. If that is something you want."

"That's all you want? A partner?"

His face was unreadble as he shrugged once more.

That soft, romantic part of her that still wanted things she'd thought lost to her, rose up. "Truly? You want nothing more? What about connection? Desire? Love? Have you never wondered what it would be like to fall in love?"

A painfully familiar emotion flickered over his features. "I don't need to wonder," he said quietly. For a moment, she felt a stirring of panic before she realized he was no longer looking at her. Or rather, he was, but he did not seem to see her. His gaze was distant, unfocused. He wasn't speaking about her. Of course he wasn't. He'd just told her he did not know her well. Why would he be speaking of her?

"Oh," she said, another flash of understanding hitting her in the chest. 

He laughed softly, the sound achingly sad, almost bitter. "I've lived for almost three centuries, Elain. Did you truly think I'd never been in love in all that time?"

Her face heated. She had thought that. Though why she'd even thought such a ridiculous thing she wasn't sure. "I- I'm sorry."

He nodded his acceptance, reclining once more, his eyes closing, a clear indication he did not wish to speak on it anymore. Of course, after such a revelation, she definitely could not contain herself. "Who was she?" she asked.

He froze, and for a moment, she did not think he would answer. Then he sighed, the sound filled with a sort of grief she could not quite fathom despite her own losses. "Her name was Jesminda," he breathed.

And then, he told her the saddest story she'd ever heard.

[colorsunimaginable]

the spare // chapter fifty-four // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary: 

While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this chapter: 3.4k warnings for this chapter: violence, attempted rape

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Fifty-Four:

Thomus lured me into his bed that night. Though that honestly might be a bit of an exaggeration. He lead me by the leash and I happily followed him. After what just happened, I want nothing more than to curl into his side and hold him close.

In the morning, I wake up alone. This doesn’t surprise me, but I am disappointed my time in bed with him was limited.

I don’t find him in the house as I start another boring day. As I start cooking breakfast, I realize he didn’t leave a suppression potion.

I don’t have time to wonder because the back door swings open. The moment I hear the sound, I hold the handle of the frying pan with a death grip, ready to whip it, frying eggs and all, at whoever steps in.

“Oh, it’s you,” I say with relief when Thomus glides in.

He grunts an acknowledgement, his chest huffing. He fills a glass of water and chugs it down. My saliva production triples as I take in what he’s wearing.

He’s wearing a long-sleeve grey shirt with a green stripe going around his biceps and chest. The fabric is soaked with sweat down his back, clinging to the muscles there. His black shorts aren’t leaving much to the imagination, either, and my eyes almost leap away out of pure guilt for ogling the man.

Finished with his water, he turns, pushing the cuffs of his sleeves back up his forearms, and I nearly give in the bubbling female hysteria within. He pushes his damp, curly hair off his forehead as he brings his eyes to me.

I immediately drop my eyes, turning back to my eggs. I have to start scraping partially stuck bits off the bottom since I was too busy eyeing his bottom.

“Didn’t know you run,” I say, forcing a casual tone. I’d thought he’d just up and left like the countless times before.

“I run almost every morning,” he shrugs.

“Really?” I say, genuinely surprised. “I’ve never seen you.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the counter. “I usually do it on the Manor’s estate, simply because of the size.”

“Why change that?” I ask. “Just for the fun of it?”

He tilts his head, hesitant. “No, not exactly.” His eyes follow me as I move my eggs to my plate. “I… felt it was safer, if I remained here this morning.”

“Because of last night?”

He nods.

“I suppose that makes sense,” I give him a teasing grin. “You scared the shit out of me, though. You almost got a face full of hot egg.”

He chuckles. “Lucky you rely on your muggle instincts and not magical.”

“It would get the job done, though, wouldn’t it?” I say defensively, feeling a blush crawl up my neck. “Um, hungry? I can… I can make you eggs.”

His lips press together and his eyes crinkle with laughter. “I think I’m going to have a shower, then figure all that out.”

“Okie,” I mutter as he scooches past me, but speak up when he’s almost at the door. “Would you want to watch a movie tonight?” He stops and looks back at me. His gaze burns into me and my insecurities rise to the surface.  “Uh, if you want.”

“What movie?”

“I’ll let you pick. The backs of the cases have little synopsis’ on the back.”

“Well, I’ll have to check my schedule,” he sighs. The corner of his mouth turns up, so I know he’s only teasing.

~*~

Later, when he’s digging through the VHS bin, that teasing smile is gone.

“I had no idea this would be such a difficult decision.” He’s kneeling at the foot of my bed, bent over the bin. I’m busy walking around the bed, tucking the fitted sheet under the corners.

“What looks good?” I ask.

“Something for adults preferably. Most of these seem to be for children.”

I sigh. “You might like Star Trek or Monty Python.”

“The Holy Grail?”

“Yup. It’s a comedy.”

Thomus sighs, too. “Very well.” He pushes the bin back under the bed before standing.

“Don’t act too excited,” I tease, stuffing my pillows into their cases. Then I settle them on the bed and spread out the comforter.

Thomus us reading the back of the case as he drifts to the door. “You’re still staying in my room tonight, yeah?”

I look up at him to see him eyeing my bed. “Of course,” I say with a shy smile. “Your bed’s way comfier than this one.”

He chuckles. “Right, I’ll see you downstairs.”

~*~

Thomus seems to enjoy the movie, even if he admits to not understanding things sometimes. He’s sitting up on the couch, and I’m laying down with my head in his lap. At first I lied on my side, facing the TV, then I turned onto my back.

I can tell when he loses a little interest in the plot when his hand slips under the blanket covering me. He starts drifting his fingers along my jaw and neck. I peek up at him out the corner of my eye, but see he’s still looking straight ahead.

His hand moves lower, cupping and kneading my breasts. They shift under my t-shirt from his grip and the fabric rubs my nipples and they quickly stiffen. I inhale sharply through my nose and bite my lip when he pinches and rolls them between his fingers. He does this long enough for my hips to start shifting and my thighs fall open.

He cups my jaw in his big hand, turning my face to look at him. His thumb brushes over my lips. “If I put my fingers on your pussy, am I going to find you wet for me?”

I swallow hard and nod. “Yes.”

Thomus chuckles low. “A little eager?”

“Only if you want to,” I whisper.

“Think of it this way,” he murmurs. “Your pleasure is my hard day’s work; satisfying, rewarding…” His hand inches down my stomach, dipping under the band of my shorts. “It’s like ���“

A buzzing goes off, making Thomus pull his hand away from me. He pulls out his wand to stop the timer. He looks down at me with a guilt expression.

“What?” I ask, sitting up. “You have somewhere to be, I guess?”

“No, um,” he stands, summoning the bag of Floo powder and starting up the fire. “You can keep watching. I won’t be long.”

“Okay,” I say slowly. Mostly I’m bummed because whatever it is, cheated me out of an orgasm.

He calls out for the Manor and steps into the green flames.

~*~

To his word, he isn’t gone long. Enough time for me to pee and grab a glass of water without looking like I’ve moved at all. I stop the tape, too. Just because it seems rude not to.

When he comes back, he has potion vials in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I had to let it simmer for three hours.”

“Let what simmer?” I ask, point-blank. I can’t help the apprehensive look on my face.

“The suppression potion,” he replies calmly. “I, er, had to make it stronger.”

My voice is soft, almost pleading. “Are you really going to make me take it? You know I’m not going to hurt you. Or, try to hurt you.”

Slowly, he moves forward to sit on the edge of the couch, angled towards me. His expression is guarded.

“Strangely, I believe you,” he admits. “I shouldn’t, but I do.”

Right… Owner, property. “But you still –“

He nods. “I still have to suppress your magic.”

“Why?” I ask. “Draco hasn’t been suppressing Hermione’s magic.”

“Granger isn’t abnormally skilled with wandless magic, is she?” he bites out with an irritated tilt to his head. “What my… nephew and his parents decide to do with their charge is their own risk.”

“What risk?” I snap. “I’m not –“

“Please,” he says, leaning forward on his elbows. He reaches out and covers one of my hands. “It’s safer this way.”

“Safer?” I ask, anger rising in my voice. “What’s safe about me not being able to protect myself?” I try to pull my hand out from under his, but his grip tightens.

“If anyone found out I knowingly let you possess your magic –“

“Let me guess, they’d kill us both?”

“They’d make me kill you,” he states, his eyes on me intense. His words ring in the silent room. He puts the new batch into my hand. “So, please. Don’t fight me on this.”

I grip the vial tightly in my palm. “What happens when this becomes ineffective, too? There has to be a limit.”

“That is a problem I will deal with when the time comes. For now…” He raises his eyebrows expectantly.

I sigh, resigned and pull out the stopper, tipping the vial into my mouth. I give him my middle finger as I do.

~*~

Thomus doesn’t leave again until the next day. He gets summoned by the dark forces behind his tattoo just as we sit down for supper. He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek goodbye and then he’s gone.

He didn’t say how long he’s going to be gone so I finish my meal and get up to start clearing it away. I’m contemplating what to do with his still full plate when there’s a knock on the front door.

Immediately, I put his plate back on the table and crouch. The curtains on the living room window are wide open. After making sure there’s no eyes on me, I crawl on my hands and knees to the front door. I put my eye to the peep hole and I stagger back a step out of pure shock.  

It’s Rodolphus.

He knocks again, stepping back to peer into the living room window. “Hello? Mudblood!” he calls. “I know you’re in there.”

He must think I’m a fucking idiot if he believes I’ll just open the fucking door for him. My hand hovers over the deadbolt, turning it until it locks. I do the same with the door handle lock.

He sighs and pulls out his wand, pointing it at the door. He mutters Alohomora and the deadbolt unlocks. He tries the doorknob, but after seeing that’s locked too, he redoes the spell. While he’s casting it, I relock the deadbolt. Then when he tries for the door again, it’s locked. While he unlocks the deadbolt, I relock the doorknob. This goes on for a few minutes and I’m almost laugh at how many times he lets it go on.

The blasting spell catches me by surprise though. I’m not sure what happened because it was so quick, but I know I was airborne based on where I wake up, sprawled out in the doorway to the kitchen. The front door is off its hinges, broken into pieces. Rodolphus stands in the doorway, wand fisted in his hand.

“There you are,” he smiles. He takes a step inside and I try to flee. My left shoulder is in so much pain and I can’t move my arm. I manage to sit up, gripping the doorway to get me on my feet. My eyes never leave him.

He takes another step towards me, studying the room. “Not much, is it? With how heavily enchanted and protected this place is, I’d expect Thomus was stockpiling gold.” He looks curiously at me. “But no, it’s just you, isn’t it?”

“Thomus will be back any minute,” I lie, slowly taking steps back.

Rodolphus laughs, an off-kilter, disturbing sort of laugh that sends fear racing down my spine.

“No, he won’t,” he says. He turns toward me, body language screaming that he’s ready to pounce on me at any sudden move. “You’re all mine now.”

I spin on my heel, dashing towards the knives drying on the rack from dinner. I grab one and aim it, knowing full well that it won’t slice through any sort of skin. But he doesn’t know that.

When I turn to him, he’s in the kitchen now, his hip pressing into the island. He’s barely an arm’s length away. If he gets any closer I’m gonna slice him right open. Or try to.

“I don’t belong to anybody – especially you,” I seethe through my teeth.

He laughs again, breathy and casual. “Fine,” he concedes, holding up his hands. He takes a heavy booted step towards me and I mirror him, taking a step back. Rodolphus’ voice deepens. “But your cunt belongs to him, doesn’t it? Do you think it’ll cry and weep for him as I fuck you?”

“Stay the fuck away from me.” I’ve backed up so much I’m by the door now.

With as much force as I can muster, I whip the knife at him and yank the door open, bolting out into the autumn evening barefoot. I just need to make it until Thomus comes back. I need to hide.

The panic is starting to take over as I speed off towards the creek. The cold water will clear my head and there’s rocks. I can use rocks.

And of course, I’m a fucking idiot because how could I ever think I could defeat a wizard with fucking rocks?  I’m surviving on pure luck and whim since he hasn’t casted another spell on me.

“Oh, mudblood!” Rodolphus calls from up the path. I’m at the creek now, I barely splash my toes into the water before I bend to pick up a rock. One light enough to throw and heavy enough to bash his brains in. “Mudblood, I know you’re here. You won’t get very far. This property is embarrassingly tiny.”

Of all the times for my magic to randomly kick in, this would definitely be the time. I see movement through the dying brush and briefly try to cast a disillusionment spell on myself. I know it doesn’t work because he spots me immediately.

I hold the rock up as I half-concentrate on walking over the stones that make up the bank of the creek. He just watches me back up, his wand isn’t even raised.

He smiles wide. “Go on, run. I like it when they run.”

Needing no more encouragement, I book it down the path. He might be baiting me, but at least it’s an opportunity.

I follow the path along the creek until I can see the front of the cottage. I get right to the tree line when a massive weight blows right into me, putting me flat on my face. I scream and struggle against Rodolphus’ weight on top of me. His hand’s twisting my hair into his fist and he pulls, my back bowing. I push my working fist against the ground, trying with all my might to get my knees under me.

Rodolphus’ breath is at my ear. “Hope. That’s what they get when I allow them to run. They get this brief rush of hope that they’ll survive, that they’ll get away. It’s exhilarating to watch it drain from their eyes as I fuck it right out of them.” He grinds his hips into my backside, his boots digging into my calves.

He pushes my face back to the ground and a painful moan escapes as his weight forces the air from my lungs. My elbow gives, my arm shoving outwards across the dirt. The pain in my shoulder is almost blinding.

“But enough about me,” he taunts. “Let’s talk about you. You’ve managed to get so deep under Thomus’ skin that pureblood cunt just isn’t enough for him anymore. He’d rather dirty mudblood cunt now, and that’s a problem, you see.”

He pushes up, his load bearing hand the one that’s twisted in my hair, driving my head into the ground. My glasses bend and the nose piece presses far too close to my eye. His other hand pushes up my shirt, grappling for my breast where it smushes out under my arm. Each touch feels like a sharp pinch.

“Thomus thinks he can just walk away,” Rodolphus pants from above. “As if he hasn’t been fucking my wife for the last fifteen years.” He turns my head out with enough pressure that I feel my neck popping. His hair tickles my face when he leans down. “He thinks he can just walk away.”

I scream when his teeth sink into where my neck and shoulder meet. I use whatever core strength I have in attempt to shake him off, but this only tightens his hold on me.

He tears his lips from my skin, boldly licking up to my ear. “It’s only fair, right, love? That I get to fuck what’s his? Fuck the only whore he’s ever laid claim to?”

Then his weight is off me and I can breathe again. He’s rolling me, my dislocated shoulder getting the brunt of my weight. My fist clenches at the dirt and I whip it at him, unable to control my cry of pain.

The dirt lands right in his eyes and as he’s stumbling back, I kick him right in the face. It’s just enough for me to stagger to my feet, shakily hauling ass through the front yard, without time to look back. I don’t really have much of a thought besides hide.

The front door is open, obviously, and I skid to a stop in front of the laundry room. The door is already open and it makes sense to me at the time to leave it as I climb onto the dryer. I push the attic panel aside, pure desperation and tunnel vision the strength that pulls me up. I shove the dirty collar of my shirt between my teeth to stifle my pain when I roll onto the attic floor.

I manage to put the panel back into place just as Rodolphus’ boots come stalking their way through the living room. I’m on my stomach, watching through the tiniest crack between the panel and the ledge.

“Where did you go, mudblood?” Rodolphus calls, a gentle lure to his voice. I see the tops of his boots through the doorway to where his stands in the living room. “I’m not finished with you yet, you daft thing.”

I’m holding my hand over my mouth, not even daring to breathe heavily. My heart is pounding so hard in my ears that I almost miss the second pair of footsteps as they approach.

“Thomus!” Rodolphus excitedly greets. “I was just looking for your mudblood. The naughty little minx has escaped. You’re lucky I was here.”

I wait for Thomus to respond, but he doesn’t, and I panic for a brief moment, wondering if this is a trap.

But Rodolphus’ boots disappear and I assume he’s stepping closer to whoever came in.

“This can’t last forever, you know,” he continues. “I will have my way with her.” He chuckles. “Might even make you watch.”

The second person still doesn’t say anything. If it really is Thomus, I can only imagine he’s giving Rodolphus his thousand yard stare.

“I will ruin her,” I hear Rodolphus whisper in the quiet.

Then more footsteps, heavy like they’re Rodolphus’. My eyes are locked onto the floor, hoping and praying that the one who remained is Thomus.

The moment his familiar dragon leather boots come into view, I shove the panel aside. I go down legs first, keeping my weight on my good arm to lower myself to the dryer. My feet are on the floor and I feel dizzy with relief when I see Thomus standing there.

I don’t run to him. He doesn’t come rushing to me. There’s only silence as we stare at each other. What is there to say that our eyes couldn’t?

“Can I…” I whisper, my breaths still shallow, “have a hug?”

His face twists with an emotion unfamiliar to it, and I just can’t hold it in anymore. Can’t hold back the tears that fill my eyes and blur my vision. I can’t hold back how afraid I am and I can’t stop myself from running to him like he’s a port in a storm. He doesn’t push me away when I slide my arm under his, pulling him close. My chest shudders with my sobs as I bury my face in his shoulder. His arms instantly swallow my shoulders, holding me just as tight. His cheek presses against the top of my head and his breaths are deep and measured, like he’s breathing me in.

“You never have to ask,” he whispers.

[apeirophobiafox]

Miraculous x Heathers

brought to you by boredom and brainrot

Marinette banged on the closet door, on the verge of tears. “Please, Adrien!” she shouted. “Open the door!” 

After a moment of struggle, she managed to kick open the door, running inside and turning on the light. The figure before her was not that of her love, however, but instead was her old partner. The traitor. 

“Where is he?” She barked out to Cat Noir, looking around in hopes of finding Adrien hiding behind a stack of boxes or some clothes. 

“He’s gone, Marinette. He asked me to take him out of Paris, so I did.” He watched her with a cold stare, but she could see the pleading in his emerald eyes, the foolish hope that he could ‘fix’ her. Her blood boiled at the thought of it. Did he think she was broken? Shouldn’t he of all people understand what it was like to be so uncontrollably possessed by love?

 “Please, Marinette, it’s not too late. You can still fix this. We can fix this.” 

There it was. The pleading, the hope, the pain in his voice. Marinette wiped away the hot tears flowing down her cheeks. Adrien was gone. He had left her. But that didn’t change anything. She would still go on with her plan, even if Adrien wasn’t by her side to witness it all. He’d see how much she loved him, even if it was on the news. Even if he couldn't be there to witness it with his own eyes.

“It is too late for me, kitty.” She murmured softly. “Chloe’s already dead, and soon, all of the students of Francoise Dupont will be dead too. Lila and Sabrina will join their dear leader, and the school will burn to the ground. After that... well, if Adrien can’t see how much I love him after that, then I’ll just have to burn down all of Paris.” 

Cat Noir tensed, ready to pounce. “You can’t do that, Marinette. I won’t let you.” 

“Oh, but I can. Aren’t you tired of this? Always saving the city, always doing everything for everyone else, but getting nothing in return? Having your heart broken over and over again, no matter how hard you try?” In a moment of reckless inspiration, she gathered the courage to add, “Join me, kitty. Just think of how poetic it would be. Ladybug and Cat Noir. The so-called protectors of Paris, burning a high school-- no, the entire city down.”

She could see a million emotions flashing through his eyes all at once. Suprise, fear, horror, confusion. He stared at her wordlessly, clearly shaken by the revelation. In the back of her mind, she wondered how Adrien would react if he found out that she was Ladybug, too.

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

"did you hear that?" With Peter and lucian?? I'm loving them right now

Here's something for the for the vampire prince au I have with Peter, during their early days with Peter's show and Lucian getting closer to the end of his experiments (so, before 2003).

Warning: vampire hunting, blood, injury

On with the fic!

--

"You know, there's an impracticability to fighting in leather." Peter muttered as he looked over the gun in his hand, making sure it was loaded and ready to go.

"What do you mean, love?" Lucian asked, gently pushing it down, silently asking him to keep it hidden, just in case anyone saw. They were above ground, in an Austrian city, looking for a group of vampires that he had found out about. They were causing trouble and trying to find a local pack of lycans who were doing their best to stay far away from the war.

Lucian had been asked to investigate and Peter tagged along, because of course he did. He liked the element of surprise of a death dealer who worked for the lycan enemy. That, and he was visiting from Vegas while his stage show was on hiatus for some temporary show the hotel was doing.

"Like, I mean, it's a sexy look, not gonna lie, hence why I'm runnin' around on a stage in leather pants and a coat, but in the heat of battle? Your movements can be restricted, and also, it's hot. Like, literally hot, these clothes don't breathe!" Peter waved his now-free hands about.

"And yet, you insist on wearing a leather jacket?" Lucian smiled, giving the jacket a small tug.

"You can't deny that you love seeing me in it." Peter smirked at his husband. "But I decided jeans were a better choice for tonight-" He has a finger pressed to his lips and frowned, giving Lucian a look.

Lucian frowned and glanced this way and that. "Did you hear that?"

His hand was brushed away and Peter cupped his hands to his ears, before his eyes widened and he shoved Lucian out of the way, just as something impacted with the ground right where the lycan leader has been.

"Fuck!" Peter hissed, his eyes having gone from brown to icy blue, looking everywhere before staring up. "There!" He pointed out as a figure up on a rooftop. The few people out at this house had gone into a panic over someone shooting, this could be trouble.

Lucian nodded at Peter before they split up, running in two different directions. He watched as the figure tried to fire at him again, the bullet just missing the top of his head, instead hitting a car window, setting off the alarm. Getting himself down an alley, Lucian latched onto the wall and climbed, digging his claws into the brickwork, snarling as he pulled himself up quickly. He got to the top of the roof and found the vampire being grappled with by Peter, who didn't have his gun out, but had a dagger.

"You're sided with a dog!" He heard the vampire shout.

"Correction," Peter snipped, struggling to stab at the vampire in the chest, "married."

This seemed to shock the vampire, before they glared deeply, eyes nearly white with rage. "Traitor!"

Peter yelped when he was thrown off and nearly flew off the roof. "Peter!" Lucian cried, seeing him grab at the ledge at the last second.

His shout caught the vampire's attention and the fight was now between them. Lucian wasn't going to transform, he didn't have a change of clothes, but he could still fight. He charged, baring his teeth, and struck the vampire in the face with his fist. He got clawed in return and the took multiple swings at one another, punches and scratches.

Then the vampire screamed when something loud banged and Lucian shut his eyes, tight, at the bright light that happened for just seconds before the vampire was fatty dust before him, like a cremated body.

He looked up, seeing Peter standing there, holding out his gun. "Fuck! That's what these new UV bullets can do!?" He tossed the gun, looking rather terrified, and rightfully so.

Lucian didn't care about the mess before him, he rushed over and held Peter close. "You nearly went over the ledge!"

"I wasn't gonna let a fall break me, babe." Peter replied. "'sides, I'm okay, but fuck! You're bleedin'!"

Lucian touched at his cheek, where he had gotten clawed, one of several spots. "It'll heal."

"Yeah, but you know I hate seeing you hurt." Peter pouted and removed a kerchief from his pocket, patting at Lucian's bleeding cheek, despite the wound already starting to heal.

The lycan looked at his worried husband and smiled a little. "Thank you."

"Nnk, no problem." Peter muttered. "We should, uh, probably go take care of the other vampires, before somethin' else happens, yeah?"

"Right." He nodded, then gave his husband a quick kiss.

--

Personally, I like Peter using melee weapons better than guns (considering he's a dreadful shot in canon), but something about him using the prototype of the UV bullets appealed to me.

He's never firing one again, too scary for a vampire, even one who has sided with the lycans.

[jasmine-tea-latte]

I posted 916 times in 2022

51 posts created (6%)

865 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@juldooz-atla

@risemaclay

@cynical-mystic

@barelyaware

@perfectlypanda

I tagged 908 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#zutara - 499 posts

#zuko x katara - 447 posts

#zuko - 212 posts

#katara - 195 posts

#not atla - 130 posts

#ooh this is pretty - 60 posts

#atla - 55 posts

#avatar the last airbender - 51 posts

#avatar: the last airbender - 49 posts

#zutara week - 46 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#this is why i love fire lady katara. not only bc she would bring new ideology to the fn but bc she and zuko are great rulers together

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

delicate - chapter 18

In which Katara unleashes a display of power to save the Fire Prince while keeping her promise. But in doing so, lines are crossed that can't be uncrossed...

FYI, I updated the tags, and while I tried not to make anything too graphic, some parts at the beginning may make you squeamish. Nothing like Stranger Things' Season 4 levels of graphic, but still reminiscent in a way.

Lastly, you're not going to like me for this cliffhanger (but just wait until you see chapter 19's - y'all are going to be MAD.)

Anyways, without further ado... enjoy!

36 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

#4

delicate - chapter 14

In which Katara and Zuko join her family for a dinner at the Beifong’s, where their pretend courtship will be put to the test against the living lie detector known as Toph Beifong…

AKA, the chapter in which Toph and Suki channel their inner Rachel and Phoebe to figure out what these two pining idiots in denial are hiding, like in the episode of Friends when they find out about Chandler and Monica.

“They think they can mess with us? The mess-ers become the mess-ees!”

(technically Chandler’s line but who’s keeping score?)

and of course:

While poor Sokka (who’s both Joey AND Ross in this scenario) just wants food and for this to all be over with, because this is his best friend and his sister 😩

See the full post

43 notes - Posted June 18, 2022

#3

let’s go back to the start

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36708718

Aang could only stare, rendered speechless as he watched his most loyal companion who he’d given up mastery of the Avatar State for - his forever girl - choosing to side with the Fire Prince instead.

It was all too clear now exactly where Katara’s true loyalties lied, and they weren’t with him.

~*~*~

Or, Aang finally awakens onboard a strange ship a month after the fall of Ba Sing Se to a new world, one where both the Avatar and a traitorous Fire Prince have been declared dead by the Fire Nation.

Now, the pair have no choice but to put aside their differences to form an uneasy alliance. The Avatar must learn to finally let go of his attachment to Katara, while the Fire Prince finds himself surrounded by former enemies who’d just as soon see him dead...

Sequel to Taste of a Poison Paradise.

50 notes - Posted January 28, 2022

#2

When the ZK antis are trying to spread their toxicity yet again but you're too busy living your best life shipping ZUTARA and having ✨FUN✨ unlike those lame haters:

So the next time you hear "iT's NoT cAnOn" just tell them to SMILE and thank them for letting us live in their minds rent free for 15+ years 💜

(and yes, I redid the gif from the OG post because that's been bugging me all this time ahahahaha)

53 notes - Posted September 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I am now the proud owner of Zutara mugs 🔥🌊

Behold!

(Hot Leaf Juice not included.)

111 notes - Posted July 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →