#✨drama mama

[pinkmoonastro]

Pluto Aspects

Sun/Pluto: Dark sense of humor, attracts jealousy through the ability to learn quickly and be talented at many things, seductive, private life/double life, prefers to be in relationships, controlling, self critical, importance on achieving success and public recognition, denial about how social you actually are, obsessive, bouncing back from hardship unscathed, masking true feelings, lover of luxury, worrier, carrying the burdens of many, leaders, strategic, good at balancing multiple careers/streams of income, can work long hours, wiling to sacrifice for future gratification, beliefs being questioned/questionable, operating best with routine, helping the exiled, quiet power, domineering, leading others to the promise land, rags to riches, sharing nature, being taken advantage of, learning self worth, noticing the subtleties, standing in your power, alchemizing, appreciation of scents, restoring the balance and bringing justice, protecter, connection to night creatures, reverence.

Moon/Pluto: emotional rollercoasting, rough tides, tsunamis, delusions, misunderstood, living in the past, victim mentality, feeling intruded upon, enticing, protective, human lie detector, causing shock value with your thoughts, okay with not being everyone’s cup of tea, attracting stalkers/stalking others, a lot of haters and obsessive ppl, determined, my way or the highway, always on the go, quick witted, forgiving, misguided anger, easily triggered or triggering to others, a safe space for authenticity, youthful looking but quickly matured, problem solvers, appreciates luxury, high expectations, stressing yourself out, very strong ppl, the rock of their family, liking drama, needing to be more careful with the words spoken, lucky breaks, nurturing, creating a home that feels beautiful and comfortable, beautiful smile, soft spoken mesmerizing with your cadence, taking care of the things you own, making the old look new, hard choices, a few more restarts than most, word is bond, direct communication, seductive aura ✨

Venus/Pluto: Insecurities being obvious to others but hidden from yourself, ppl pleasing, nurturing vibe, great reader of social cues, bully/bullied, learning to understand and love your body, freedom through movement, talk of the town, being projected on a lot, resilience, cup half full mentality, big mama energy, ungratefulness, ppl trying to manipulate you through financial means, getting things taken away from you as punishment or literally being stolen from, independence, personality that grows on you, attracting jealously based on being the opposite sex’s ideal, player/overly devoted, values the connection to family, the type to plan the family get togethers, prefers to be coupled, generous and great at gift giving, hair that attracts idolization, fierce eye contact, ppl wanting to experience you without worthiness, personal space being important, careful with the people you shake hands with, being exactly what you want to be, near death experiences, night owl, protecter of children and the poor, solo traveler, taking no shit, knowing that it’s okay some bridges need to be burnt 🤷🏽‍♀️, child like innocence, friendships that stand the test of time, health conscious, healing others through food/herbs, high society, rockstar lifestyle might not make it.

Mars/Pluto: Okay with being cut throat, intimidating, power hungry, holier than thou, superiority complex, triggering insecurity in others while just existing, putting in work that will stand the test of time, legacy is of importance, it ain’t nothing to cut bitch off, knowing how to wow ppl, the defuser of situations, protecters of the weak, chameleon, popularity, rememberable first impressions, quick thinkers, great lovers, career focused, pressure to succeed, feeling you have to always be on your p’s & q’s, controlling lovers, the person others vent to, attracting ppl that feel entitled to your body/possessions, love/hate relationships, social butterfly, observant, bound by nothing, living in the moment, making the best with what you have, animal lover, would benefit from slower living, ingenuity, fashionable, hard headed, ppl trying to silence you, sprinkle sprinkle no bread crumbing is tolerated, lucky items/totem poles, optimistic, teaches lessons on how to be discerning, secret exposer, substance abuse, attempts to hold you back through evil eye, tunnel vision, seeing what needs to be said and saying it, willpower matched with child like vigor, friends and lovers that are protective over you, respected in your community/field, interested in the benefits of all, easily multiplying what you already have, water to wine type of vibe, relaxing when the work is done, knowing when to take breaks, shining bright in dark places.

Mercury/Pluto: realism view point, harsh truth, so relatable, knows better but learns the hard way, passionate speaker, musically inclined, before their time, emotional highs and lows, forgetful/selective memory, dark humor, appreciates the shock value, curse words are like icing, different just to be, thinking outside the box, creating lingo other ppl use, over explaining, paranoia, defending the vulnerable, saying what everyone is thinking, whistle blower, lovers of knowledge, constantly reinventing yourself, conspiracy theories, quick witted, solitude, dating outside of your race, cult leaders, judgmental, biting your tongue, pathological liars, self righteous, polarizing, sweet talkers, accent, making complex subjects sound easy, self critical, creating a lot of opportunity for yourself, taking journeys without a destination in mind, getting to the root of the matter, hard to reach, wise beyond your years, very knowledgeable about niche things, big dick energy, viewing something from multiple perspectives, feeling short on time/waisting time, organized, thoughtful, pouring into others, lending a helping hand/attracting those that want to help you, having to be extremely patient, smoking cigars for enlightenment, stuck on ppls mind, noticing the underlining factors, honesty off the charts, sending warning shots attacking, feelings of overwhelm by choices, defending your stance, being victorious against all odds, just so rememberable.

Jupiter/Pluto: importance on self image, Beyoncé- upgrade you, relating to others though music, greed, great investors, a need to be in first place, critical of themselves and others, perfectionism, requiring patience, materialistic, condescending, over indulgent, substance abuse, bad mouthing others, attracting leeching personality types, look but don’t touch, a lot of ppl have witnessed your transformations, co dependent, persistent, preferring not to be around the bush, learning when to walk away, big personality, topic of conversation, having to rebuild yourself repeatedly, opposites attract, quick manifestations, repeating yourself a lot, sustainable living, being able to balance many things at once, bringing offerings, community leaders, hard earned respect, learning discernment in friendships, solo travels, mentorship, feeling isolated, knowing how to use what you have, tongue like a sword, guiding the youth, transforming the mundane, unique style, taking the road least traveled, freeing yourself from sorrow, seeing the good in anyone, comforted by your bed, the same thoughts on repeat, warrior spirit, connection to horses.

Asc/Pluto: having your items end up in the lost and found, escapist tendencies, prioritizing relaxation, messy room, starting a new project before finishing the last, ppl misjudging your power, manners, sob stories/lack of accountability, fashionable, stand out in crowds, unique style, noticing the little details, valuing peace keeping, don’t mind switching things up and experimenting, self employed, viewed as lucky, ppl keeps tabs on you, being at the crossroads, rumors about your body/hygiene, protecters of their family, collecting antiques, building from scratch, learning to stay the course, loves celebrations.

Chiron/Pluto: learning only when the pain has gotten so bad, feeling like your always falling short even when you have what you perceived to want, intense feelings and relationships, what’s done in the dark coming to light, dismissive, ppl indulging in your hardships, helping others through your struggle, leading by example, survivors, learning boundaries, developing antonymy, life starting one way and ending up much differently.

[harmshake]

Featuring: Roman Reigns x Black Fem Reader Warnings: None other than a lil family drama angst and language. Just some lovey dovey fluff I felt led to write because I adore this man and love to write him all soft and sweet. 🥹💕 Word Count: 2.2k

Happy reading! Read my other Roman stories here, if you'd like. ✨

Fall was an interesting time of year. The seasonal change, the leaves turning colors and the air becoming cooler; the seasonal emotions that sometimes changed with the weather, leaving you in a moody mood; and the holidays, Thanksgiving in particular stressing you out when you were coerced to go home and see your folks.

You were grown and no one was truly forcing you to pack your bags and take a flight back to Florida to see your mama, daddy, little sisters, and plethora of aunties, uncles, and cousins. You could’ve stayed home if you really wanted to and saved the money because those plane tickets, rental car, and hotel fees seemed to add up larger every year. But it’d been almost eight months since you’d been around your family and that meant it’d been just as long for your husband, too. His people were also from Florida, Pensacola in the panhandle, whereas you were born and raised in South Beach on the exact opposite end. 

Yet where you didn’t mind staying put in California with Roman and pretending that the life you’d built together here was the only one that mattered, he was just a bit more family-oriented than you and gave you that look with his thick eyebrows knitted together, his soft brown eyes winced, and his cute, full lips pursed when you suggested you spend the holidays alone together in Malibu. You should have known it wouldn’t fly when the man had made a name for himself as the “Head of the Table,” aka the patriarch of his Bloodline both on television and in real life. 

When he wasn’t at work with them, he was always on the phone or FaceTime with his cousins, as well as his mom and sisters back home. You knew he missed that home and you wouldn’t deny him the chance to go and spend time with them, heck, you wanted to see his family, too, as they were sweet, hilarious, and embraced you from the day you met them twelve years ago—but your own family? You could do without the pinched-in smiles, the judgment, and the gossip. The “why y’all ain’t had no kids yet?” or “must be that husband of yours…where his people from again?” and “don’t know how you manage with all them lustful women after him…I wouldn’t trust it.”

Yeah, your mama and them could miss you with all that. Your moody mood was reaching a certain point as you thought about that conversation with her a few days ago before you almost tumbled downstairs with your heavy ass luggage to park them with Roman’s in the foyer. You weren’t an excessive packer by any means but you and your husband’s trip would be exactly two and a half weeks, and you hated to run out of clothes. Even though Roman would always buy you more, you hated when he spent money that he didn’t need to on you. Yet if you were honest, money wasn’t the issue as for all your complaining about the trip expenses, he easily paid for all of that, too. The issue was the trip destination, plain and simple.

“Taxi’s gonna be here in an hour,” Roman’s deep voice suddenly said behind you. You thought he was still in the kitchen making coffee for you both to bring on this early ass drive to the airport, but he was right up on you when you turned around, startling you. Your hand flew to your chest all dramatic-like and he couldn’t hide his little grin if he tried. Normally that would make you grin, too, but your nerves were already worn and that certain point in your moody mood was abruptly met because what was funny about him scaring you at four a.m. when you essentially just woke up, haven’t had coffee yet, and had to go see your judgy folks?

“Okay but don’t sneak up on me like that. Jesus,” you said flatly. There would have been more oomph to it if your voice wasn’t still somewhat raspy from being snatched from a good sleep by your shrill alarm clock less than twenty minutes ago. Roman’s little grin deflated for a moment but then it pulled into a smirk with one dimple that was almost buried in his beard as the grayish hair was getting bushy. He’d let it grow out on purpose because he wanted an edge up from his favorite barber back home. You sucked your teeth at his annoying, cute self before you uttered with your arms across your chest now, “What?!”

“You’re so grumpy,” he replied with a shake of his head. Then his arms slipped around yours to trap you in a bear hug as he slowly pulled you to his chest. You both wore matching black hoodies and his was plush on your cheek as he held you to him and sighed, his breath sweeping through your box braids and along your scalp. Roman rubbed a large hand up and down your back like you were his big baby, like he meant to coddle you, and that would have annoyed you more in your moody mood if the gesture didn’t feel so lovely. His voice grumbled in his chest when he spoke, the bass of it reverberating through you feeling lovely, too, and making you lower your shoulders as you leaned into him. “Aw. There we go. You done bein’ grumpy?”

You usually weren’t one to snap at your husband, any and all spats between you being scarce and simple to solve, and today was no different. It’s why he didn’t take your moody mood to heart and why you hid your hands in his hoodie pocket with your face smushed to his chest in tiny shame as you murmured, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Roman gathered your face in his hands to look at you, anyway, those soft brown eyes working to see beyond your own deep brown gaze and right at the root cause of that shame. But of course he already knew, he just wanted to see it plainly so he could do what he always does, what he just did: Make it better.

One thing for certain and two things for sure, your husband was a problem solver. Came naturally from being the patriarch of his family, but also from being your best friend. It would make you giggle when you thought back to your late twenties and the way you learned the phrase “work smarter, not harder” the hard way because you were stubborn—working long nights in the production studio, thinking you had to be the first to arrive and the last to leave, proving yourself as WWE’s road production lead assistant, and damn near killing yourself in the process. Those Supershows were especially brutal, the video packages needing to be pieced together flawlessly and quickly so they could hit the highest buzz on Twitter and YouTube. Roman was the star of each and every one of them, the face you saw most as you stared at the screen to edit and finish before deadline, but you hardly ran into his handsome face as your schedules weren’t aligned like that.

Yet whenever you did cross paths, either backstage in catering or ringside during setup, your friendship with him blossomed pretty fast. You made him laugh and his face always glowed with his little grin at you. And he always had a kind word for you. Told you he respected your work, thanked you for how you made him look badass in those videos, warned you to take better care of yourself, and teased you that if you didn’t figure out a better schedule, he wouldn’t be able to see you as much as he wanted. You let him know you were just doing what you needed to do to put food on your table, even if that meant missing some meals because you got into your hotel so late that sleep was more appetizing than anything else. However, as the Head of the Table, and your good friend, he worked his magic behind your back and got your boss to sit with you and work out a schedule that gave you time to actually live a life off the clock.

That converted Roman from your friend to your bestie and you couldn’t thank him enough. You tried, though, tried paying for the tickets when you both went to the movies or picking up the tab after you just ate dinner together, but he wasn’t having any of that. Even back then, he was always one to treat you, and you fell in love with him before you knew it. Not because he spoiled you but because the man was full of the kind of love that never ran thin, dried up, or tired out. 

Now he was pulling you down to sit on his lap after he plopped onto the loveseat to hold you and you wrapped your arms around his neck to soak in that love. It was all warm and cozy and spoke sweet in your ear as a gentle thrill shimmied through you. “You know I’mma be there, right? You aren’t dealin’ with your family by yourself. I’ll be next to you the whole time, baby.”

“I know,” you hummed as you rested your chin on his shoulder, nose nudged to where his beard connected just below his jaw. You left a small kiss there and then you left a couple more when you heard him breathe with a hum, too, and start to curl his fingers into the leggings covering your thigh where he was rubbing. “Just ready to be back home already. I just want this.”

This being your husband cradling you in the pleasant hush of your home, the neighborhood beyond the living room windows still and peaceful with the quiet, autumn morning fog and breeze; as well as the warmth from the central heat and from Roman as he surrounded you. It was the only place you wanted to be.

Roman let out a slight chuckle at your words and squeezed you in his arms with the reminder, “We ain’t gotta stay long. But we gotta show our faces. Or else they’ll drive you even crazier blowin’ your phone up, askin’ why you were home and didn’t come through.”

“Ugh. Stop bein’ right about everything,” you said and he chuckled harder. 

“Are you gonna turn into Oscar the Grouch again if I don’t?” he laughed and you gave him a teasing pinch on his bicep that was so damn hard with his muscles he probably didn’t feel it. He didn’t even flinch, actually, he just grabbed the offending hand into his like he sought to discipline it before he brushed his thumb along your knuckles. His eyes found yours again, giving you his other look with his soft brown eyes somehow twinkling in the lowlights of the room as his lips parted for his tongue to swiftly flit over the bottom one before he bit it. This look could mean one of two things: Roman was about to kiss you or he was about to say something that would make you want to kiss him. “Love you. Promise we’ll still have this on the trip.” He held up your hands clasped together, his wide thumb still skimming in between the grooves of your little knuckles.

This being each other. This being that no matter where you went and no matter for how long, if you were together, things would be fine. More than fine. No chilly air trying to rattle your bones as he’d keep you warm. No moody moods trying to keep you down as he’d soothe them away. And no Thanksgiving stress trying to rob you of the holiday spirit as he’d lift your spirits, him and his folks who made you laugh so hard it hurt, fed you until you were full, and helped you remember what family was supposed to be like.

You nodded once with a small smile tugging at your lips before you pressed them to his. A tender kiss that you meant to pull away from after a second or two, but Roman’s fingers that had been holding your hand cupped your chin after he placed your hand on his chest. You rubbed at it softly as he kissed on your lips firmly, a faint but audible smack sounding out when you both finally separated. Your noses stayed nestled close, though, warm breath grazing the other’s cheeks as Roman’s fingertips caressed from your chin to the apple of your right one, a thumb stroking along your skin. Your eyes stayed closed, just enjoying this, cherishing one another and that pleasant hush once more before the taxi rolled into your driveway to shuttle you both to the airport you prayed wouldn’t be hectic.

But if it was, you would be okay with it. You were okay. More than okay. You were thankful, something you were told since you were a little girl that the holidays were all about. Gratitude and whatnot. And you did have a lot to be grateful for, even when some circumstances tried to trick you into believing otherwise. 

You laced your fingers through the loose locks of dark hair that the biggest thing you were grateful for had yet to tie into his signature bun, planting another kiss on those lush lips. “Thank you, baby. I love you, too.”

. . .

With Gratitude

Thanks for reading! Join my tag list here (it's been a lil while since I last checked it so I'm sorry if I didn't tag you below), if you wanna! ❤️

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[beausling]

pov: you’re jensen ackles’ controversially young gf (alt!musician!reader) part ii

read other parts here

youruser

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youruser guess what’s in my pockets🤭

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gibson_g1rl better not be what i Think it is🤨

youruser nah, it’s actually just used joint filters and train flattened pennies from chicago

archiveofvirtue @/youruser TRAIN FLATTENED PENNIES???😭

youruser @/archiveofvirtue cus they’re cool😸😸🎀

vamps4y/n ONLY INHALE THE BEST

youruser EXHALE THE STRESS !!!!!!!!!!!!

suicideleopard is that the hearse we saw in carrollton?

youruser indeed !!!

suicideleopard @/youruser dude send me all the pictures you got

youruser @/suicideleopard omw bd😜

pearlzier @/youruser BABY DADDY?!!?!!????!!????

youruser @/pearlzier well Yes!!

vamps4y/n @/youruser jensen will be hearing about this📞

jensenackles liked a reply to your comment

jensenackles

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jensenackles Ahhh New York….. 😎🤎

Till next time.

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youruser another day, another slay✨

jensenackles liked your comment

gibson_g1rl the brown heart emoji??? ohhh, y/n cooked here🤭

hrtsy/n was just omw to say this🤭🤭🤭

vamps4y/n i’m gonna ask the question everyone is thinking… @/youruser did y’all link up or not??🤨

youruser only got to see each other in passing yesterday, i’m in florida rn for rockville🙁

pearlzier @/youruser ohhh thats fucked up, #universe let my parents see each other

archiveofvirtue @/pearlzier mama y papa liked😸🤞

jackleswife let me sit on it

gibson_g1rl OH so you’re Gross huh!?

vamps4y/n ermm Aktually🤓☝️ it’s y/n to sit on

y/ngirlies @/vamps4y/n CRYINGG SOO REAL GIRL

youruser

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youruser nobody needs to know . . .

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y/ngirlies okay but when is the album coming out?

youruser eventually…

jasvtsc @/youruser PRAISE THE LORD🙏

yourbffsuser what a time we’ve had✨

youruser it was definitely a time !!!!!

gibson_g1rl need to know where that shirt in pic 8 is from tho

youruser olivia sade fuck baby tee🤞

archiveofvirtue HEY GUY WHY ARENT WE TALKIN AB PIC 4!!!!??

pearlzier are we thinking the same thing🤭🤭

gibson_g1rl okay so we’re all on the same wavelength rn??🤭

deanluvr like thats GOTTA be jensen’s hand ru kidding

hrtsy/n explain yourself love @/youruser

youruser @/hrtsy/n CAPTION !!!!!🙌

jensenackles

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jensenackles Just another night in Paris. Watching body parts explode on a giant screen. No biggie.

Are you guys ready for this?!?!

@/theboystv this Friday!!!

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youruser le brouillard approche…

jensenackles Stop saying ominous things in French…

youruser @/jensenackles quoi que tu dis, joli garçon😸

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vamps4y/n @/youruser there you go again flinging that name around……..

deangirlsride why is #She around every corner🫣

gibson_g1rl girl stfu😭

j2texas fr it’s like a horror movie😟

hrtsy/n @/deangirlsride @/j2texas kay why ess❤️

youruser

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youruser got to live my da vinci code dreams (nuit blanche was so funky fresh!!!)

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hrtsy/n so we’re just not gonna talk abt pic 8??!!!

youruser the food was SO scrumdilly😸

pearlzier @/youruser that is NOT what we mean😭😭

gibson_g1rl Y/N AND JENSEN IN PARIS AT THE SAME TIME LIKE ITS NOT A COINCIDENCE…….

jackleswife if it’s real i might have to kms

archiveofvirtue girl BYE you’re weird😭

jasvtsc @/archiveofvirtue @/jackleswife NO FR like IF IT IS TRUE.. why can’t you just be Happy for him????

vamps4y/n @/jasvtsc mama y papa liking iktr🤭

jacklesfan isn’t she like super young too?

y/ngirlies she’s literally pushing 30 so gtfo with all that😭😭

pearlzier @/y/ngirlies PUSHING 30 IS INSANE😭😭😭😭

y/ngirlies @/pearlzier ITS TRUE THOUGH SHE TURNS 30 IN A FEW YEARS !!!!!!!!

꩜ thank you so much !!! i hope you guys enjoyed reading this😸 all feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💟

꩜ this one is a bit more silly, a bit more drama.. things are starting to pick up a bit more🤭 (sorry, but i just love a good slow burn)

꩜ tags : @gibson-g1rl @pearlzier @jasvtsc @archiveofvirtue 🎀 lmk if you wanna be tagged and/or featured in the next part !!!!!

[speaknow-sw]

THE POET AND THE ROSE

Content : kissing, deaths, injuries, stitching, descriptions of battle, stabbing, fluff.

A/N : 7.1k words damn I can’t get enough of these two and it’s only chapter 5 💀. Anyway y’all are thirsty asf for this fic so here’s chapter 5 that I sprinkled with some ✨DRAMA✨ to sent y’all into orbit. MAMA IS FEEDING YOU TODAY !!!

꧁ Chapter 5 : The Enemy Hides in Lies ꧂

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

The dawn breaks soft on battered lands,

A fleeting peace in trembling hands.

Yet love, like spring, begins to grow,

A fragile bloom through frost and woe.

The great hall was a theater of shadows, the flickering torchlight casting distorted shapes along the walls as nobles gathered around the grand oak table. The air was heavy with the scent of wax and wine, but beneath the surface, an invisible current of tension rippled through the room. Anakin stood at the head of the table, his posture commanding, his eyes sharp. Every face he looked upon was a puzzle to be solved—a potential piece in a game of betrayal he was only beginning to decipher.

Count Aulbry was the first to speak, as Anakin expected. The man always seized the moment, his voice a blend of false concern and barely veiled condescension. "My lord, your victories on the northern front are, of course, commendable. Few could have led our armies with such skill against Wallace and his men."

There was a pause, artfully calculated.

"But it does leave me wondering… Has our focus on the Scots left the kingdom vulnerable to other threats? A prolonged absence of leadership often invites… instability."

Anakin’s expression remained stony, though his grip tightened ever so slightly on the armrest of his chair. "Instability arises when men forget where their loyalties lie, Count," he said, his voice low but cutting. "Is there something specific you fear, or are these merely idle musings?"

Aulbry smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "Idle musings, perhaps. One cannot help but notice certain… tensions in the southern provinces. Grain shipments have been delayed, and a few towns have reported unrest. A minor matter, I’m sure, but in times of peace, even minor matters deserve attention."

The mention of the grain shipments was not new to Anakin—he had already received reports from his stewards—but hearing it from Aulbry made the matter feel calculated, as if the Count was laying a trap with his words. Anakin’s gaze swept the room, noting the subtle shifts in posture among the other nobles. Whispers had begun to circulate in court—whispers that spoke of dissatisfaction, of plots brewing in the shadows.

"Minor matters, indeed," Anakin replied, his voice measured. "Rest assured, I have already taken steps to address them. The people will not starve under my watch."

"And yet," Aulbry pressed, "it is curious that such disruptions would occur now, so soon after your triumphant return. It almost seems as if—"

"Almost seems as if what, Count?" Anakin interrupted, his tone cold and final.

Aulbry hesitated, his smile faltering for the briefest moment. "Only that perhaps certain… elements may be testing the limits of this fragile peace. We must all remain vigilant, my lord. Especially you."

The words hung in the air like smoke. Anakin held Aulbry’s gaze, his silence more oppressive than any retort. When he finally spoke, his words were deliberate. "Vigilance is a duty I take seriously, Count. Perhaps you should do the same."

Aulbry bowed his head slightly, but Anakin saw the flicker of frustration in his eyes. The Count was testing boundaries, pushing at the edges of loyalty and decorum. And he was not alone.

The meeting concluded with the scrape of chairs and murmured pleasantries as the nobles filtered out. Anakin remained seated, his eyes following each man and woman as they departed. Only Aulbry lingered, his steps slow and deliberate as he approached the head of the table.

"My lord," the Count said, his tone dripping with false sincerity. "I hope you do not take my concerns as criticism. I only wish to see the kingdom prosper under your leadership."

"Prosperity does not grow from doubt, Count," Anakin replied, standing to his full height. "If you truly wish to see the kingdom flourish, you might begin by trusting the men who fight to protect it."

Aulbry’s lips twitched into a tight smile. "Wise words, my lord. I shall take them to heart."

Anakin watched as the Count left, the tension in the room finally breaking with his departure. But the unease in Anakin’s chest did not fade.

Later that night, Anakin stood on the battlements, the cold wind tugging at his cloak. Below, the village was a patchwork of flickering lights, its quiet hum a stark contrast to the silent storm raging in his mind. He could feel it—an undercurrent of unrest threading its way through the kingdom, subtle but insistent. The signs were everywhere: delays in supplies, vague reports of unrest, the growing boldness of men like Aulbry.

War had taught him to trust his instincts, and they were screaming now. He did not yet have proof, but he knew—knew—that something was amiss.

The crown weighed heavier on him with each passing day. He had fought for peace, had bled for it, but peace was proving to be a battlefield of its own. The enemy was not an army but a shadow, shifting and elusive. And shadows, he knew, could only be banished by light.

He rested a hand on the hilt of his sword, its familiar weight grounding him. He would find the truth, and when he did, there would be no room for mercy. For now, he would play their game, but he would play to win.

The castle felt colder tonight, the stone walls seeming to echo every hesitant footstep you took. A fire crackled in the hearth of your chambers, but its warmth did little to ease the chill that had settled deep within you. You sat at your desk, a blank sheet of parchment before you, the quill in your hand trembling as you contemplated what you were about to do.

How much could you tell him? How much should you tell him?

The betrayal weighed heavily on your chest, a burden you could no longer ignore. Your father’s plans had become clearer with each passing day, his letters to Count Aulbry a chilling reminder that you were nothing more than a pawn in a game of power. And yet, to expose him would mean condemning your family—your blood.

But Anakin...

Anakin, with his unyielding strength and sharp mind, had become more than just a reluctant husband. He was your partner, your protector, your anchor in a world that seemed to shift beneath your feet. The thought of betraying him, even through silence, filled you with a guilt so fierce it was almost unbearable.

You dipped the quill into the ink and began to write, the words flowing out in a code you hoped he would understand.

"Beware the hand that offers peace but hides a dagger. Trust not the smile that does not reach the eyes. The enemy within wears the guise of a friend."

You hesitated, then folded the parchment carefully, sealing it with wax. The message was cryptic enough to avoid suspicion should it fall into the wrong hands, but you prayed Anakin’s sharp mind would unravel its meaning. 

The castle’s long corridors seemed quieter than ever that morning, the weight of your secrets pressing down on every step you took. You carried a tray of tea in your hands, the porcelain rattling faintly against the silver as your fingers trembled.

Anakin had returned just days ago, his presence both a comfort and a torment. He was closer now than ever before, yet the chasm between your love and the truths you withheld felt insurmountable. Every glance, every touch, every whispered word only deepened the ache inside you.

You paused outside his study, steadying yourself before entering. The door creaked softly as you pushed it open, revealing him hunched over the table, his broad shoulders tense as he studied the maps and reports before him. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting golden highlights in his dark hair.

When he looked up, the weariness in his expression softened instantly, replaced by something warmer. Something reserved for you.

“You shouldn’t carry such things yourself,” he said, standing quickly to meet you. His voice was firm, but the faint curve of a smile betrayed his gratitude.

“And yet I wished to,” you replied with a small smile of your own.

You crossed the room to set the tray on the table, your movements deliberate, though your heart raced with the anticipation of what you were about to do. As you placed the tea before him, your fingers brushed his—just a fleeting touch, but one that sent warmth spiraling through you.

“You spoil me,” he said, his tone quiet but tinged with humor.

“You deserve spoiling,” you replied, your words light but sincere.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, and you could feel the weight of his attention. Your breath hitched as you stepped back, sliding the folded note beneath one of the maps. Your hand hovered for a moment, but then you turned, ready to leave before your courage faltered.

But Anakin’s hand caught yours, his grip firm yet tender, halting you in your tracks.

“Stay,” he said, his voice low, but with a quiet insistence that left no room for refusal.

You hesitated only a moment before nodding, allowing him to guide you to a seat beside him. The distance between you closed, and suddenly the room felt smaller, the world beyond the study’s walls forgotten.

For a time, there was only silence between you, save for the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. You could feel his presence beside you, solid and grounding, yet there was an unspoken tension in the air—a weight neither of you could name.

Finally, he broke the quiet.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as though confessing a forbidden truth. “More than I realized I could.”

The words struck something deep within you, and you turned to face him fully, searching his face for any trace of doubt. There was none—only sincerity, tinged with a vulnerability you had rarely seen in him.

“I missed you too,” you admitted, your voice trembling. It was the truth, but it felt inadequate to capture the depth of your longing.

Anakin reached out then, his hand brushing against your cheek, his touch achingly gentle. The callouses on his fingers spoke of battles and hardships, yet his touch was softer than anything you had ever known. You leaned into his hand, your eyes fluttering closed as you allowed yourself a moment of reprieve.

When his lips met yours, it was slow, almost hesitant, as though testing the fragile bond that had formed between you. The kiss deepened, carrying with it an unspoken promise—a vow neither of you could yet put into words.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“There’s so much I don’t say,” he murmured, his voice raw with emotion. “But you have to know—”

“I do,” you interrupted, placing a hand on his chest. Beneath your palm, you felt the steady beat of his heart—a reminder of his strength, his humanity. “I know.”

For a long moment, the two of you simply sat there, the world outside the study forgotten. You wanted to tell him everything, to unburden yourself of the secrets that threatened to consume you. But fear held you back—fear of what your revelations might do to the fragile trust you had built.

Later, as he returned to his work, his attention fell on the maps and reports scattered across the table. His sharp eyes caught the folded parchment tucked beneath the edges of the papers, and his brow furrowed as he reached for it.

From the doorway, you watched as he unfolded the note, his gaze scanning the words you had written. His expression darkened slightly, his fingers tightening around the parchment.

He looked up then, his eyes meeting yours across the room. There was no accusation in his gaze, only a quiet question—a plea for understanding.

You offered him a faint smile before slipping away, your heart heavy with the weight of what you had done. You prayed he would understand the warning you had left for him.

And you prayed, too, that the love you had begun to share would be strong enough to weather the storms that lay ahead.

The midday sun cast golden light through the stained-glass windows of your chamber as you sat by the desk, attempting to focus on a new canvas. But the brush in your hand felt heavier than usual, and the colors blurred together, your thoughts elsewhere.

Anakin had left at dawn for a hunt, his absence stretching like a shadow over the castle. You found yourself restless, unsettled by a creeping sense of unease that had lingered since his departure.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. One of the castle’s attendants entered, carrying a folded piece of parchment sealed with no crest. The lack of identification immediately caught your attention.

“This arrived for you, my lady,” the attendant said, bowing as they set the letter on your desk.

“Who delivered it?” you asked, but the attendant only shook their head.

“It was left with the guards at the gate, my lady. No messenger lingered.”

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the parchment, the faint scent of ash and wax clinging to it. Unfolding the letter, you read the hurried scrawl within:

“Beware the serpent that coils close to the lion. Tonight, blades will be drawn in shadows, and blood will stain the throne. Protect him, or all will be lost.”

Your breath caught. The words were cryptic yet chillingly clear—a warning of betrayal, danger aimed at Anakin, and treachery from someone within the castle walls.

The sound of boots echoed in the corridor outside, and you quickly folded the letter, tucking it beneath the edge of your desk. A moment later, Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped into the room.

He had returned to the castle only days before, bringing with him reports of the Scots' retreat. His presence had initially been a comfort, his calm demeanor reassuring amid the chaos of court politics. But as Anakin’s trusted right-hand man, his arrival had also coincided with a strange tension.

“My lady,” Obi-Wan said, inclining his head. “I trust the day finds you well?”

“Well enough,” you replied, though your voice betrayed the unease tightening your chest.

He stepped closer, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze steady but unreadable. “Anakin will return soon, I presume?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “He should be back before nightfall.”

“And yet, you seem troubled,” Obi-Wan observed, his tone casual but sharp. “Is there something amiss?”

You hesitated, your mind racing. Could Obi-Wan be the serpent the letter warned of? Or was this paranoia taking root, fed by the growing web of deceit surrounding you?

“I have much on my mind,” you said carefully. “The court’s whispers, the growing unrest. Surely you’ve noticed it too.”

Obi-Wan’s expression softened, and he took a step closer, his voice lowering. “The court is always restless. But if there is something specific troubling you, you need only say the word. Anakin would want me to protect you in his absence.”

The sincerity in his voice sent a pang of guilt through you, but the memory of the letter’s warning gnawed at your resolve.

“I’ll manage,” you said, your tone firmer. “Thank you, Sir Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment, as though weighing your words, before nodding and stepping back. “As you wish, my lady. But do not hesitate to summon me if you need anything.”

With that, he left the room, the door closing softly behind him.

You had just resolved to wait for Anakin’s return when a knock at the door startled you. It was one of the chambermaids, her face pale and her hands wringing nervously.

“My lady,” she said, “I thought you should know... Sir Kenobi and Count Aulbry were seen riding out together just now. They seemed... urgent.”

The words sent a chill through you. “Did they say where they were going?”

The maid shook her head. “No, my lady. But they rode toward the northern woods.”

Toward the royal hunting grounds.

Panic gripped you. Anakin had ridden there with the king this morning, and now his supposed ally and his most vocal opponent had followed, shrouded in secrecy.

You clenched your hands into fists, your mind racing. The letter’s warning, Obi-Wan’s strange behavior, Aulbry’s open hostility—it all aligned too perfectly. If they meant to harm Anakin, you couldn’t sit idly by.

The stable smelled of hay and cold earth as you approached, your breath visible in the crisp air. The stable master startled at the sight of you, his eyes wide with alarm as you strode toward the nearest horse.

“My lady, what are you—”

“Prepare her,” you interrupted, your voice steady despite the chaos inside you. “The mare, now.”

He hesitated, hands trembling as he fumbled with the tack. “It isn’t safe, my lady. You can’t ride alone.”

“Safe?” The word cracked from your lips, harsh and bitter. “Safe is a word I can no longer afford. Saddle her, or I’ll do it myself.”

His protests faltered as he moved quickly, his fear of disobedience outweighing his confusion. The mare was readied within minutes, her dark eyes reflecting your own urgency.

Your skirts snagged as you mounted, but you paid it no mind, gripping the reins and spurring the horse forward before the stable master could voice another word.

The wind sliced through you as the mare thundered over the frost-covered earth. Each hoofbeat echoed like the drum of war, steady and relentless, driving you closer to the woods. The trees loomed ahead, their bare branches clawing at the sky, and with them came the weight of your growing dread.

Anakin. His name was a heartbeat in your mind, a mantra that propelled you forward. You could see him in your mind’s eye—strong, resolute, his brow furrowed in thought as he stood apart from the world, carrying its burdens alone.

Would he believe you?

The question clawed at you as you rode, your fingers trembling against the reins. Would he see your desperation as weakness? Would he blame you for suspecting Obi-Wan, the man who had fought beside him in countless battles?

Or worse—what if you were wrong?

The thought was unbearable, but the image of the letter was sharper still. Its words were a call to action, and inaction felt like betrayal.

You pushed the mare harder, her breaths coming in sharp bursts as you entered the woods. The hunting party’s distant voices reached your ears, their tones hushed but unmistakable.

“Almost there,” you whispered, your words carried away by the wind.

The mare slowed as you approached the clearing, and you dismounted swiftly, your boots crunching against the frosted ground. The shadows of men and horses flickered through the trees, their forms half-obscured by the fading light.

You hesitated, your pulse quickening as you moved closer, the forest around you suddenly heavy with silence.

The words from the letter echoed in your mind, louder than ever. “Blades will be drawn in shadows...”

You glanced over your shoulder at the mare, now tethered to a low-hanging branch, and took a deep breath. The weight of what you had to do pressed against your chest like armor.

Somewhere in this forest, Anakin was unaware of the knife poised at his back. And you would move heaven and earth to ensure it never reached him.

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

The foe you see is not the hand,

That strikes unseen, or makes its stand.

Deceit is woven through their guise,

The truest battle hides in lies.

The early morning fog clung to the trees like a damp veil, shrouding the forest in an eerie stillness. Anakin’s boots sank into the earth with each step of his horse, the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves resonating beneath the thick canopy. His mind wasn’t on the hunt, not really. He had ridden out on the king’s orders, ostensibly to track game through the thick woods, but every instinct in his body told him something was wrong. A nagging feeling of unease gnawed at the edge of his thoughts.

The cold air cut through his cloak, yet the discomfort of the chill was nothing compared to the unease stirring deep within him. He had tried to ignore it—after all, he had faced far worse than a simple hunting expedition. But it was there, a persistent presence, an itch under the skin that he couldn’t shake.

"Stay alert, Anakin," he muttered to himself, his breath misting in the cold morning air. His instincts had never been wrong before.

Suddenly, there was a rustling in the underbrush. Anakin’s hand immediately went to the hilt of his sword, his gaze scanning the surroundings. The forest was quiet again, unnervingly so. He heard the faintest snap of a twig, too far to his left to be a deer. His eyes narrowed, and his breath held as he dismounted silently, glancing at the trees above for any sign of movement.

The shadows were his enemies now. He couldn’t risk being ambushed.

He was barely aware of the first movement—a swift motion to his right, a shadow crossing his line of vision—before he heard the unmistakable sound of steel scraping against leather. A flash of cold metal, a blur of movement, and then—nothing.

It all happened so fast. He had learned long ago that the most dangerous threats were often the ones you couldn’t see until it was too late.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the blur of a figure darting toward him, and without hesitation, Anakin spun around, drawing his sword in one fluid motion. A man lunged at him from the trees, the assassin’s blade aimed at his side, but Anakin deflected it with a practiced swing, their swords clashing with a ringing sound that reverberated through the dense woods.

But then, as if from every direction, more figures emerged—six, no, eight men surrounding him. They were silent, fast, moving with the precision of a well-coordinated attack. His heart pounded in his chest, the adrenaline surging as the battle instincts kicked in. Anakin’s eyes scanned the men, calculating, assessing, his hand moving as if it had a life of its own. His sword met the blade of another attacker, their weapons locked in a deadly struggle.

The noise of the fight was deafening—the clash of steel, the grunts of exertion, the sharp cries of men falling as they tried to overcome him. But there was something different about this attack. The men didn’t move like mercenaries; they moved with the fluidity of soldiers trained in the art of war, and they seemed to have been waiting for him. The very ground beneath him seemed to tremble with their numbers.

His breath came ragged, his eyes darting between enemies, trying to predict the next move. He didn’t have much time. The trees provided little cover, and every swing of his sword was an invitation for another blow. He gritted his teeth and blocked another strike, parrying to the side before slashing his blade through the chest of one man. His breath was heavy now, the sweat dripping down his brow despite the cold.

But then the realization hit him, cold as ice.

They weren’t after the hunt.

They were after him.

The words echoed in his mind, but he didn’t have time to process them. A sword sliced across his chest, just missing his vital organs. He staggered back, breath stolen for a moment, his blood staining his tunic. The rush of pain barely registered as his instincts kicked in, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword as he batted another attack aside.

One man dropped to the ground with a grunt, but that didn’t matter. There were still too many, and they were closing in, pushing him toward the dense underbrush. A few were already injured, but not enough to halt their assault.

The moon hung high in the sky, barely visible through the dense canopy of trees as the darkness swallowed Anakin whole. He had been fighting for hours now—bloodied, exhausted, but resolute. The twelve men who had attacked him had already taken down several of his own, and the forest felt like a battleground in hell. The night air was thick with the smell of blood and smoke. The forest echoed with the sound of sword clashing, of desperate men shouting orders.

But it was still quiet. Too quiet.

Anakin felt the familiar presence of danger creeping closer, but it wasn’t just the attackers that gnawed at him. His heart was pounding in his chest as he thought of you. His thoughts were filled with the images of your face, your soft voice calling his name, and he feared for you. He had never been afraid in a fight, not in all the battles he had seen—but this was different. He feared for your safety.

Where are you?

He couldn’t shake the thought. He tried to push it away, tried to concentrate on the men surrounding him, but it wasn’t easy. His body was aching, blood flowing freely from the multiple cuts across his torso. He had barely managed to keep the attackers at bay, and now, with each passing second, they grew closer. They had surrounded him.

With a burst of adrenaline, Anakin swung his sword again, cutting through another man, but his vision was starting to blur. His grip on his sword was weakening, but he could feel his determination growing stronger. I must survive, for her.

That’s when he heard it.

The sound of hooves, distant at first, but growing louder, faster. The unmistakable sound of a rider galloping in the woods.

No, not you. His heart raced even faster. He could feel your presence getting closer, but he had no way of stopping you.

He couldn’t keep fighting and get to you in time. But you were so close now, he couldn’t wait.

Meanwhile, you had galloped through the woods, panic clawing at your chest with every thundering beat of the horse’s hooves beneath you. You could hear the faint echoes of battle in the distance—the clash of swords, the guttural cries of men. Your blood ran cold. You urged the horse onward, desperate to reach him, to stop whatever this madness was before it consumed him.

The woods were a maze of shadow and mist. You couldn’t see through the trees, couldn’t hear over the thundering of the horse’s hooves beneath you. It felt like you were racing against time, but what was worse was the gnawing, suffocating fear in your chest.

Please, Anakin, please be safe.

As the sounds of the battle grew louder, you felt your heartbeat in your throat. You could hear the shouts of soldiers. Then, without warning, a shadow leapt out from the trees.

Before you could react, a man grabbed your reins, yanking your horse’s head sharply to the side. He lunged at you, sword raised high.

Your heart froze. You reached up instinctively, fingers fumbling for the tiny dagger you had tucked in your hair for moments like this. The cold metal of the dagger was a comfort in your hand, but it was nothing compared to the weight of the situation. The man’s face was twisted in anger as he raised the sword, preparing to strike.

Fear clawed at you, but you refused to let it control you. You slashed the dagger across the man’s arm, but he hardly flinched. The blow wasn’t enough to stop him, and the sword came down at you again, too fast for you to dodge.

But before the blade could reach you, a roar split the air.

“DON’T TOUCH MY WIFE!” Anakin’s voice thundered through the trees, furious and primal.

You barely had time to register his words before his form appeared in front of you, bloodied and furious. His sword cut through the air in a flash, knocking the would-be attacker aside with a force that left no room for mercy.

You didn’t have time to breathe, didn’t have time to think. Anakin’s eyes were locked on you, fierce and protective, but his face was pale, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His chest was covered in blood, and yet his gaze never left you.

He turned back to face the remaining attackers, his anger and pain mingling in a way that made your heart ache. You reached out, desperate to touch him, but as your hand brushed against his, he pushed you back.

“I said stay back!” His voice was hoarse, but filled with a raw, desperate need to protect you. “It’s not over.”

You watched helplessly as Anakin stepped forward, meeting the four men who had remained hidden in the shadows. Each strike was met with a new burst of agony, a struggle against the men who relentlessly attacked him. His movements were slower now, each swing of his sword weaker than the last. But even as his body betrayed him, his will never faltered.

The battle felt like it went on for an eternity, each second stretched thin by the raw tension and fear that swelled inside of you. You couldn’t watch any longer. It felt like you were suffocating under the weight of the moment. But even then, you saw him—he was still fighting.

And then, the final blow came.

One of the men drew his bow and released an arrow with deadly accuracy. You saw it happen in slow motion. The arrow soared through the air, and for a brief, horrified second, you knew what was about to happen.

It struck Anakin in the chest.

The sound that escaped his mouth was one of pure agony as the arrow buried deep into his lung. He staggered back, his sword faltering in his hand as he fought for balance.

“No!” you cried, rushing toward him despite the danger. But as you approached, you saw him fall to his knees, blood pouring from the wound. His face was pale, his lips already tinged with the blue of a wound too deep to ignore.

But even then, he didn’t give in.

“Anakin…” you whispered, dropping to your knees beside him. Your hands shook as you pressed against his chest, trying desperately to stop the bleeding.

He looked up at you, eyes filled with pain but a fierce determination still burning behind them.

“I’m not dying,” he whispered between labored breaths, the words strained and weak. “I won’t leave you.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you tore at the hem of your dress, ripping it to pieces to use as a makeshift bandage. Your hands were trembling, but you pressed the fabric to his chest, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

“I won’t let you die,” you said through clenched teeth, your voice trembling.

He took your hand then, squeezing it gently despite the agony that wracked his body.

“You’re all that matters,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’ll live… because of you.”

His words, though weak, fueled your resolve. You kept applying pressure to his chest, watching as his color slowly returned, watching as he breathed deeply again, fighting the weariness in his limbs.

It was then that he finally stirred, groaning as he attempted to rise. He pushed himself to his feet with your help, his body shaking with the effort. Despite the pain, despite everything, he managed to stand tall.

“We need to get back to the king,” he said, his voice hoarse but filled with purpose. His gaze locked onto you, and for a moment, you could see nothing but the depth of his devotion in his eyes.

The two of you walked—no, staggered—back toward the camp, where the king’s men were gathered in stunned silence. As Anakin limped toward the center of the camp, still holding your hand, he confronted Count Aulbry. The nobleman, who had been so sly and quiet up until now, stood with a calm demeanor, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt.

Anakin’s voice rang out, cutting through the air like steel.

“Did you think you could hide your treachery?” he demanded. “Did you think this would break me? You were wrong.”

Count Aulbry’s face remained impassive, but his jaw tightened as he denied any involvement. Yet the doubt lingered in his eyes, a dangerous sign that made Anakin even more resolute.

“I will uncover the truth,” Anakin declared, blood still soaking his chest as he glared at Aulbry with unyielding determination.

The confrontation had only just begun, and Anakin was more resolved than ever to expose the traitor for what he truly was.

The dim glow of the campfire flickered through the canvas of the tent, casting soft shadows that danced against the fabric walls. You sat next to Anakin, the firelight tracing the contours of his tired face, his features drawn with pain yet softened by the intimate stillness that surrounded you both. His chest heaved with each breath, though you could see the slow but steady recovery beginning as you gently unwound the bandage around his chest.

His wound, though grave, had been patched up. The bleeding had stopped, but the pain in his eyes lingered. You had tried to banish the worst of it by offering whatever comfort you could, but you knew that a part of him—one that he would never fully reveal—was still at war within.

"You’re relentless," you whispered softly, carefully peeling back the fabric of his shirt. “These arrows... They always manage to find your most vital points.”

Anakin looked down at the wound, his gaze thoughtful but distant. He gave a half-hearted chuckle, though it was edged with a touch of bitterness. "It's almost as if they know where to strike, isn't it?" His voice was rough, with a quiet humor trying to mask the ache that still lingered in him. His hand gripped the edge of the cot, and you could see the tension in his posture, a mixture of exhaustion and frustration.

“Or maybe it’s that you’re too quick to put yourself in harm’s way," you said with a teasing smile, the movement of your hands steady and sure as you replaced his bloodied bandage with fresh linen.

He chuckled softly, but his expression grew more serious as he leaned back against the pillows, his gaze never leaving yours. There was a weight to the silence that hung between you now, a heaviness that pulled at the edges of his soul. And you could feel it too—the depth of everything unspoken, the fragile trust between you now intertwined with something far deeper.

“You know, I’ve always thought I could protect myself,” Anakin began, his voice quiet, the words coming with a painful honesty that you hadn’t heard from him before. “But now… Now, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve been so focused on fighting everyone else that I’ve missed something closer to home.”

Your hands stilled as you finished tying off the bandage. You looked up at him, meeting his gaze. He looked vulnerable, even though he would never fully allow anyone to see it. The man who had always been a soldier, a leader, was now confiding in you—not just as a lover but as someone he trusted more than anyone else.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice soft, inviting him to share the heavy burden he was carrying.

His lips pressed together for a moment, and when he spoke again, it was with the weight of his suspicions, the quiet recognition that something was wrong—something much bigger than the battle they had fought.

“I think Count Aulbry... I think he’s behind all of this. I can feel it. Something about him doesn’t sit right with me.” His voice was low, almost hesitant, as though sharing this part of himself made him more vulnerable than any of the cuts that marred his skin.

Your heart ached for him. You could see the conflict in his eyes—the sharp intelligence that had always served him so well in battle was now clouded with doubt. It wasn’t just the wound that pained him. It was the fear that he was no longer in control, no longer able to protect those he loved, especially you.

“Anakin,” you whispered, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You don’t always have to carry the weight alone.”

He looked at you, his dark eyes searching yours as if looking for something—something that he needed but wasn’t sure how to ask for. His lips parted, but before he could speak, the silence between you was filled with the quiet rustle of the forest, the distant cry of a bird in the dark, the pounding of his own pulse in his ears.

“I’ve seen too many men lose themselves,” Anakin began, his voice distant. “Too many battles where it wasn’t the enemy I was fighting—it was what I had to give up to win.” He hesitated, as if weighing the significance of his words, before adding, “I’m beginning to wonder if the price of victory is too high.”

His words hung in the air between you like an unspoken truth, an ache that neither of you could escape. You knew what he meant. You understood the weight of his soul, the endless struggle of a man who had given everything—too much—and still couldn’t find peace.

“The price... is never too high,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. You leaned closer, your fingers brushing against his as you steadied his hand. “As long as we face it together.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving yours. It was as though, in that moment, he finally allowed himself to breathe, to let the walls around him fall just a little. His eyes softened, a rawness there that hadn’t been present before, and it struck you like a physical blow. The tenderness in him, buried beneath so many layers of strength and duty, was finally being revealed.

Without a word, his hand slid to your cheek, the touch tender and intimate. The contact was slow, deliberate, as if he were memorizing the feel of your skin against his. He leaned in, and for a moment, you were suspended in the space between you, where the world seemed to hold its breath.

And in that moment, with the weight of the world hanging over them, the kiss came—gentle at first, as if testing the waters, as if seeking permission to finally release all that had been held in for so long. His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative, the tenderness of it shocking in its simplicity. But that kiss was enough to set your heart on fire.

You responded without hesitation, pulling him closer, letting your lips meet his with a desperate kind of sweetness, as if you were both trying to breathe life back into one another. His hand slid to the back of your neck, gently urging you closer, the firelight dancing across his face as you kissed him deeply.

The world around you fell away as his warmth enveloped you. His lips were insistent, demanding now, as if every kiss was a promise, every touch a vow that he would never let go of you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as if to reassure yourself that this moment, this love, was real.

You broke away for a moment, both of you breathless, gazing at each other with an intensity that made your heart ache. His forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours as the world outside ceased to matter.

“I never wanted to pull you into this,” Anakin murmured, his voice hoarse, a quiet confession. “This war... it’s not something I can protect you from. Although, I would fight in a dozen wars to shield you, my rose. In a dozen liftetimes… if I ever fail to protect you…I… I could not live with it. If you fall I fall, I swear it on my honor, on my blood and on the gods.”

You smiled softly, running your hand through his hair, feeling the dampness of sweat and blood still clinging to his skin. “You don’t have to protect me, Anakin,” you whispered, your voice thick with a tenderness that threatened to break you. “We protect each other. That’s what this is.”

His eyes searched yours, his lips parting as if to speak, but he hesitated. Instead, he pulled you closer, holding you tight against him, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. It was as though the world had stopped moving, leaving only the two of you in this space—this fragile, intimate moment where everything else faded into the background.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

You closed your eyes, resting your head against his chest. “You deserve everything, Anakin. Everything I can give.”

And in that moment, something shifted between you both. It wasn’t just love—it was trust. A promise that no matter how dark the days ahead might get, you would face them together. There was no fear, no hesitation now. Just the two of you, bound in this shared understanding.

You kissed him again, this time with the weight of everything you both held. The world outside could burn, and it wouldn’t matter. All that mattered was this—this connection, this bond that neither of you could name, but both of you knew would endure.

As you pulled away, Anakin’s eyes softened, a small but meaningful smile pulling at his lips. “I’ll face whatever comes, for you.” he whispered, his voice steady, yet filled with a quiet certainty.

And with that promise, you knew that no matter what storm might come, you would stand together, unwavering, your love a flame that could never be extinguished.

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

In the silence, my heart stopped to bleed,

For her breath was the air that I’d need.

If she fell, the world would cease its song,

For in her death, my life would be gone.

[simp-ly-writes]

The Silent Duke (pt. 1.5)

─────── · · A Smosh Bridgerton/Historical AU

Pairing: Duke!Spencer Agnew x F!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: The newest writings from Lady Whistledown has been published detailing this seasons most eligible of bachelors and bachelorettes.

─ · · TAGS: bridgerton alternative universe, historical au, old-fashioned society, talks of marriage, hopeless-romantic reader, angst, fluff, and drama

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 471 | PART TWO

─ · · A/N: are we excited? 👀 (because I am! ✨)

─────── · ·

Dearest Gentle Reader,

It has occurred to me that it has been quite some time since my last update but fear not- your writer is back to report on the tons gossip.

A new season is upon us, will romance bloom within the Queens gardens once more? As last season we welcomed a most charming of couples, Penelope and Colin Bridgeton following his eldest brother the Viscount Anthony's and Viscountess Kates romance the year before. Will we be seeing Mister Benedict finally find love? Or will another family take to the spotlight?

Well, this author can already report to you that that is the case for a certain Duke has decided that this season he is to return back to the ton. After much time away studying amongst scholars and artists alike, the Duke Agnew has taken residence back in our fair city of Mayfair and has already caused quite the stir for hopeful mama's. Yet not anyone has gained the chance to make the Duke's acquaintance even when hosting their first event to start the season that it makes this author question how our Queen has faired with this information.

But even the most introverted and closed-door personalities do not stray from my pen as I've learned a great deal about the Duke Agnew. He has interests in literature, a patron of the arts. He houses a vast number of animals and collection of trinkets brought from his travels abroad and is said to have been spotted playing pall-mall and polo with his closet friend Mister Tran; a globe-trotter and seasoned sailor turned trades businessman who has also taken to the floor this season in the looks for a wife.

Yet that look seems to have already narrowed towards a certain Miss (name) as the potential couple has been seen dancing at balls and promoting around high park together. Could these most eligible of singles have already made up their hearts and minds? Or could there be another to split these two apart?

Well the ton most definitely thinks so as Miss (name) has been declared this seasons Diamond of the First Water and various mama's and papa's are ready to fight tooth and nail for their sons to have a chance with the charming and most beautiful (name).

But this author has been informed that apparently the ever intelligent and elegant (name) has shown little interest in finding a husband this season- so what is to think of their relationship with Mister Tran?

A most scandalous situation we find ourselves observing as Miss (name)'s block is filled down and around the corner with suitors and gifts these past afternoons. Whatever will come from this?

Well fear not, dear reader for this author will let you know even before the first mouth of gossip can open.

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown

─────── · ·

[madameinfinitehearts]

Suppose the Crocomom theory became canon...

I want ONE thing to happen after the news of Luffy being Croc's kid gets out.

Imagine this:

Crocodile is just hanging out somewhere, preferably where several other people are also gathered. One of the other characters (let's use Doflamingo as an example) walks into the room and says OUT LOUD for Crocodile and everyone else to hear...

✨WHAT'S THE DRAMA, CROCO-MAMA~?✨

[mysticinsightstarot]

💛Karina Aespa Ideal Type💛

👉🏻PLEASE CHECK MY WEBSITE M IN URGENT NEED OF FUNDS👈🏻

👑 Hey, hey, my little tarot babes! Let’s spill the tea (or swords, in this case) on Karina’s chef’s kiss ideal type. I shuffled and drew up a storm, and whew — her ideal partner is not for the faint of heart. Let’s get into this juicy spread, complete with all the quirks, twists, and dreamy details. Buckle up! ✨🎢

1. Core Personality (9 of Swords, 8 of Swords, 7 of Swords)

🖤 This queen is drawn to a deep thinker—someone with layers, hunny. Karina loves a partner who’s been through their battles (hello, survivor energy!) and knows how to pick themselves back up. They might wrestle with self-doubt or overthinking (relatable), but they’ve learned how to navigate life’s tricky paths. Basically, a smart cookie who thrives under pressure! 🍪💼

2. Emotional Connection (King of Swords)

👑 Oh, darling, she’s not here for messy emotions. Karina needs someone who’s logical, emotionally intelligent, and doesn’t play games (leave the drama at the door 🚪). This King of Swords is a communicator extraordinaire—clear, sharp, and wise. They know how to support her with maturity but aren’t afraid to call her out lovingly when needed.

3. Physical Attributes (10 of Swords, King of Pentacles)

💪 Her dream partner has a quiet strength, almost like they’ve risen from the ashes (cue Phoenix energy 🔥). They’re grounded, well-dressed (think CEO vibes), and exude confidence. Karina’s ideal partner doesn’t need flashy looks—they’re all about that understated elegance and reliability. Bonus points if they’re tall, with earthy vibes! 🌳👞

4. Intellectual Compatibility (10 of Cups, 9 of Cups)

✨ Karina’s ideal boo has big dreamer energy. She wants someone who matches her intellectual curiosity and knows how to create emotional harmony. Conversations flow effortlessly, and they’re someone who can dream about building a happy, fulfilling future with her (a power couple vision, yes pls 👑✨).

5. Shared Values (6 of Swords, 5 of Swords)

🌊 She values someone who understands life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows but can move through challenges with grace. Her dream partner isn’t afraid to face conflict head-on and walk away from what no longer serves them. Growth mentality? Check. Emotional resilience? Double check. ✔️✔️

6. Romantic Style (Queen of Swords)

💎 Karina’s all about queen energy. Her dream partner knows how to be straightforward with their affection while respecting her independence. She’s not here for clinginess—she needs someone who loves her fiercely but also gives her space to thrive. A partner who knows her worth and matches it? Yes, ma’am. 👏👸

7. Challenges or Turn-Offs (King, Queen, and Knight of Wands)

🔥 So, funny story—Karina has a complicated relationship with too much fire energy. While she loves passion and drive, she can’t stand people who are all talk and no action. Overconfidence? 🚩 Being pushy or reckless? 🚩🚩 Basically, don’t bring your player energy around here unless you’re serious about keeping up with her spark.

8. Future Vision (Page, Ace, 2 of Wands)

🌟 Karina’s partner is all about big, bold futures! She’s drawn to someone who’s ambitious but practical, always dreaming about what’s next. They’re willing to take risks for the relationship while building a solid foundation. Bonus points if they love traveling or exploring new ideas with her—this duo is unstoppable. 🚀✨

Bottom of the Deck (Queen of Pentacles)

💚 Mama vibes alert! Her ultimate match is nurturing, reliable, and successful in their own right. Karina wants someone who makes her feel like home—a true partner who supports her dreams while building their own empire. Luxury, love, and stability are non-negotiable. 💎💼👩‍❤️‍👨

Final Verdict? Karina’s dream boo is: ✨ Emotionally mature and grounded. ✨ A deep thinker with Phoenix energy. ✨ Independent but nurturing. ✨ Ambitious with big dreams. ✨ Effortlessly elegant and classy.

Okay, Karina—where do we find this person? Asking for a friend (👀). 💅💃

[galaxiasgreen]

🦡✨Troublesome and Unladylike

F!Reader shenanigans with Ominis/Reader [T-Rated, 6.2k words]

You turned back around, prepared to pay attention again, but Binns was coming your way. Literally, about to zone through the desk. Oh no, no, no! He'd see Ominis snoozing! Quickly your hand shot out, punching his arm in warning – but you were too forceful, batting it hard enough that his head slipped out of his grip and banged against the desk.

In which, your life changes twice in quick succession: the first, when you discover you have magic, and the second, when you meet an enigmatic blind Slytherin.

Tropes: romance/ humour/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, hijinks and shenanigans, Muggle culture, Magic from a Muggle POV, canon rewrite.

[read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

A/N: This is an 8-chapter companion to ACVAS that I recently completed! No prior reading is required; it's mostly Gibby shenanigans that run parallel to the story of ACVAS. Enjoy <3

The stranger came in the hush of evening.

"Ssshhh!" Connor had your arm gripped, keeping you still on the stairs landing. "Stop being so noisy!"

"You're the one being noisy!" you snapped.

"Both of you, shut up," said Ellian. "I want to hear what they're saying."

You and your older brothers poked your heads between the stair bannister, desperate to snatch a little conversation from the living room downstairs. Your mother and father had shooed you all to their bedroom, where your baby brother Tam was currently fast asleep on the cot. You were supposed to be keeping an eye on him as they talked to the stranger downstairs, but of course, the curiosity was too much to bear. It seemed to be a trait that ran in the family.

"Can't hear squat," muttered Connor. At near nineteen, he was an adult himself, yet still treated as a child when home. He wanted to move out, but had not yet made enough money in lumbering. "One of us needs to go down. Find out if she's married. You know. Purely for educational purposes."

Your brow furrowed. "I thought you were committed to Matilda Asher."

"A man can have options, little sister."

"You were down there when she came in," asked Ellian. "Didn't you get a good look at her then? Was she wearing a ring?"

"Didn't see. Mama threw me out too quickly."

"Wouldn't want your ugly mug anyway, I expect."

"Coming from someone with a face like a slapped arse?"

You huffed at them. "If Mama catches us down there, she'll skin us alive."

"Yeah, only if she catches us." Connor grinned, then nudged you. "You're the smallest. You go."

"What? I can't—"

"You don't make the stairs creak. It has to be you." He nudged you again, harder this time, towards the top step. "Go on."

So you did. Step by step, clutching your glasses to stop them rattling, you tiptoed down until you were almost on the level below. The door peeled into view – open, giving you a great view of the stranger. And no wonder Connor was smitten, as the woman had the most luscious red hair you'd ever seen, cascading down her back in two thick plaits. With her turned away it was impossible to decipher her expression, but her skin was moonlight pale, her corset cinched tightly around a slim waist, the dress like an ocean of seafoam.

"— have been living in hiding for thousands of years, but I can assure you, we are a thriving community here and worldwide!" Her voice was warm, musical. "She will be well taken care of."

"But— witchcraft?" your father was saying. You did get a view of him, scrambled right up the back of the sofa, clenching the armrest. "My daughter— a heathen?"

My daughter. Me?

"Not at all, sir! And neither am I."

"The Bible ain't say nothing about witches doing good."

"I promise I understand where you're coming from. When I discovered the truth, I was shocked as well! But it is no bad thing, to be a witch." Exasperation crossed the lady's voice when your parents made no move to acquiesce. "I can see this is distressing you both. Perhaps you'd like a demonstration of what we can do?"

She pulled out a stick – a magic wand, you recognised from Punch & Judy skits – and gave it a swish. The teapot on the table levitated in air, pouring itself a cup. Your parents made a distressed noise.

So did you.

Both their eyes jumped to you. The woman turned then, surprised.

You ran back up the stairs.

"Well?" asked Connor. "What—"

"She— made the teapot float!" you cried. "The stranger— she made it pour tea without touching it! Like... like magic!"

But Ellian scoffed. "How much toffee nougat did you eat?"

"It's true, swear it!"

"Come off it," said Connor. "Did you even see if she was married?"

You pouted. "Do you really think I was concentrating on her hand when she made a teapot—"

"I thought I told you three to watch Tam?"

You spun around. Your mother, at the foot of the stairs, glaring at you. Oh no. But instead of divvying out chores as punishment, she crooked a finger. "Come downstairs, sweetling. Connor, Ellian, so help me, you better watch Tam or—"

"Going! Going," called Connor, and he sounded exceedingly disappointed to have only been fed the crumbs of a lie.

The crumbs of the truth.

You clung to your mother's shadow as you stepped into the living room. Your father was on his feet, as was the stranger, who offered a bright smile to you, even held out her hand.

"It's so nice to meet you, young lady," she said, beaming. "My name is Mirabel Garlick."

Garlick? What a funny name. Still, you knew what was polite, and shook her hand back, even though you were used to curtseying.

"Come sit, sweetling." Your mother shut the living room door and ushered you to the sofa, squished between her and your father like a protective bubble. Your father still clenched the armrest. "Ms Garlick wants to talk to you."

"Am I in trouble?" you asked. Tears fluttered to your eyes. "Am I a— heathen?"

Your father rumbled. "No, not at all, sweetling. I just..." He trailed off, clearly perturbed.

"You saw what I did with the teapot, yes?" asked Ms Garlick.

You nodded, mute.

You had no idea, then, that your life was about to change.

"I'm what we call a witch. There is a whole community of people out there who have the same abilities as we do, to wield magic."

Witch. Magic. We? "But none of that exists, ma'am," you mumbled. "And witches are— bad."

"That trick with the teapot. Was that bad?"

Hesitantly you shook your head. Actually, it was rather cool.

"I used to be like you. Very ordinary – perhaps to a fault! I grew up in Shoreditch, you see, with no idea that magical folk existed. I had also been fed many unflattering stories, fairy tales where witches steal away naughty children. These stories tend to exaggerate what we truly are: people who happen to have an affinity for magic. Have you ever done anything you can't explain?"

"No..."

"Are you certain? Think hard on it, now."

Your parents looked at you expectantly. "Remember last month, sweetling?" your mother prompted. "When Ellian—"

"When he stole my teddy bear." You gasped. "The washing basket exploded!" You cottoned onto their meaning, staring at Garlick. "I did that?"

Garlick intertwined her hands – no ring. "Yes! Magical ability often awakens at your age, about ten." She placed a hand on her heart. "I've come to visit you today because I represent Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a secondary boarding school in Scotland, that teaches magic to hundreds of young witches and wizards such as yourself and enables you to bloom into your potential. You have been invited to join the new school year this September."

A school? Scotland? Why did that sound like a punishment? More tears filled your eyes. "But— I'm supposed to work at the confectionary with Papa, and Mama is meant to teach me more embroidery..."

Garlick leant forwards, eyes only for you. "I promise you, it is a wonderful experience. You'll learn many marvellous things that will prepare you for life as a young lady. Look at me, I'm a professor!"

A woman professor? And so young! That was almost unheard of.

"What do you teach?"

"A subject called Herbology, like gardening. But there are many subjects you will learn."

Still, you shifted, nervous. Garlick stood, which prompted your father to his feet as well, and pulled out a letter from her pocket, handing it to you.

"There is your acceptance letter, with a little more information. And!" She gave you a coin, one you'd never seen before, a dragon imprinted on the faces. "That there is a magical coin. Should you have any questions or concerns, you just rub the inscription, and I'll come as fast as I can. Currently I'm living at the school, but I'm happy to travel down to help you adjust." She looked at your parents. "I'll be in touch further about acquiring the necessary equipment and books before the start of term on the first of September."

"I-Is it really real?" you asked. "Magic?"

Garlick gave you a dazzling smile, and it made you feel a little less scared.

"It is! Hmm. Would you like one last trick, before I go?"

"Yes! Yes please."

She turned and pointed her magic wand at the door. "Accio."

The door swung towards her, with no prompt... and Connor and Ellian tumbled into the room.

"Ow, Jesus!"

"Connor, you ingrate—"

"Were you two there the whole time?" your mother thundered.

Garlick caught your eye, and you laughed, laughed so hard your stomach hurt.

When you first stepped into Diagon Alley, it was like someone reached inside you and stole your breath.

The crooked buildings lanced into the sky above, the air teeming with magic, and the street bustled with witches and wizards adorned in brightly-coloured cloaks and pointed hats. When you had read about witches, it was as Professor Garlick had suspected – they were terrifying, ugly creatures, boils on their faces, ragged clothes, dirt-clod fingernails and sinister motives. But Diagon Alley burst with vibrant life. There were owls and cats wrangling against cages, spells that popped like fireworks, stalls that served hot drumsticks, kebabs and battered fish. The smell alone drew you in, but Professor Garlick stopped you with a squeak.

"Now, hold on, hold on! Let's take a moment to process, shall we?"

A moment? You might need the whole day. Yet still your grin was unshakable as you watched two wizards exchange potted plants with flowers that were growing teeth, and a child eating a sweet that made her steam from the ears. Sometimes you passed witches that wore trousers, which when the initial shock wore off made you giddy with wild glee. Did that mean you could wear trousers too? Behind you, your parents were completely overwhelmed, you mother and father clutching each other's arms.

"Stay close, sweetling," your father said gruffly, but not even he could disguise his awe. "God, I need a cigar."

"We'll be meeting another family today," Garlick said cheerfully. "With another student raised in the non-magical world, like you."

"There are more like us?"

"Of course! Very odd, this year it seems there's only a handful starting, but not to worry. Most people are extremely friendly. They will help you whenever you need." She gestured them forwards, into the throng of shoppers. "Come, come!"

It didn't take you long to realise that, actually, aside from magic, these people weren't so different from your own. Witches hollered at one another, trying to outdo their displays of cauldron towers, another family laughed from the outdoor tables of a restaurant, their cutlery dancing. You were giddy when Garlick took you to Rosie Lee Teabag, the wizard version of a teashop, to meet an awaiting wizard and another family of three, including one trembling Indian boy, with brown hair and brown skin, hands fidgeting on the table.

"Pleasure to meet you all! I'm Carsten Bristlecone, Wizengamot undersecretary in the Ministry of Magic – ahem, the magical Cabinet, if you will." The wizard gestured to his charge. "This is Mahendra Pehlwaan. Remember what I said, Mahendra? This young lady is like you, raised in the non-magical world."

"N-Nice to meet you," stammered the boy.

"Hello!" you said brightly, giving a shallow curtsy. Well. Seemed like you were handling this whole magic thing a lot better than he was. "I'm excited to be friends!"

Both sets of parents exchanged pleasantries before your father insisted on grabbing a (very stiff) drink to see him through the day. You were rather impatient watching him nurse the glass rim, but Mr Bristlecone was eager to chat – mostly about himself, using terms that went right over your head.

"It was all out war, Professor! Imagine, a Niffler pack bold enough to steal Galleons from a leprechaun. Merlin's beard, I had to use Arresting charms to stop them mauling each other by the end!"

When your father had downed his whiskey, Garlick took you all to the bank to exchange shillings for wizard currency ("Oh my gosh, Mahendra, look how cool they are! They're goblins!"), then to the clothing shop for robes, the wand shop for wands, and the book shop for textbooks and quills. You could see your parents' expressions fall with each purchase – they never talked to you about money, of course, but it was always a pressing issue when their income was so modest. It was, apparently, one of the first questions your father asked when he found out you were accepted at the school, how much, precisely, it would cost. You didn't find out the answer, but you suspected that if it cost anything at all, you wouldn't be going.

You had just about bought everything now, the day waning into afternoon. Your parents were ahead, speaking to one another with Garlick and Bristlecone.

"This is sort of mad, isn't it?" you said to Mahendra. "That we're, you know, magical?"

"I still think this is an elaborate prank," he said, clutching tightly to the list of things they had to buy. "How do I know you're not a paid actress?"

"News to me if I was."

"I'm not ruling it out."

"So you think everyone here is paid?"

"Could be," he said stubbornly.

You rolled your eyes. "You're off your rocker." Then your gaze hooked on a shop to the distance, and your gasp made him flinch. "Mahendra, look! A sweet shop!"

"Sweets? That's not on the list."

You grabbed his jacket by the sleeve and dragged him to your parents. "Can we go to the sweet shop? Please? Pretty please? With hundreds and thousands?"

Of course, no one could really say no. If Heaven existed, this is what you imagined it would look like. So many varieties of sweets you'd never tried before, ones that changed your hair colour or turned your nose into a duck's bill, gum that blew balloons the size of a person and taffy that made you giggle like mad.

"We're just going to wait outside, sweetling," said your mother to you, as you were trying every flavour of sugar quill available. She leant close. "I think your father is beside himself with jealousy. Keeps grumbling about how our confectionary is better."

"He's right," you whispered cheekily. "Promise I won't buy much."

"Two things, that's all, all right?"

Mahendra stuck to your side through it all, perturbed by your enthusiasm. You had a terrible sweet tooth – which he commented on several times – but your parents didn't have enough money left, so in the end you only left with a sugar quill and a cauldron cake, and the secret promise you'd buy more when you were at Hogwarts proper.

"Can you see them?" you said outside, peering around through the crowds and clutching your paper bag close. "You're a bit taller than me."

Mahendra frowned. "No, but they can't be far."

"Let's look around!"

"What? No— hey, wait!"

You walked away anyway. Around the back of the building was a set of stone steps that descended into a crooked rope of an alley, lined with another litany of shop fronts. These, however, were painted with a stroke of night, all dark colours and gloom, and the people within equally dressed.

"Wow, cool! Shall we have a look? We haven't gone down here yet."

"What?" Mahendra shook his head. "No! The list doesn't say—"

"Oh, forget the list for a second, would you? We won't be long. Exploring is fun!"

You dragged him down the steps. A sign, you read, said Knockturn Alley, and for some reason it raised the hairs on your arms. A group of witches with hat brims that extended well below their eyes turned sharply to face you as you headed in deeper.

"I don't like this," said Mahendra.

You blew a raspberry. "You don't like anything."

"Don't you have any sense of self-preservation?" he said, exasperated. "We've lost our parents, and the two people who know this place better than all of us combined! We're in way over our heads here. I-I don't even want to be a wizard!"

Which was totally barmy. How could anyone discover all this and not feel intense wonder and awe? How could anyone learn that magic existed, and wish to return to a time when you didn't? You stopped in front of a bulging shop front, boasting some sort of strange artefacts. Necklaces, crockery, crusty tomes, old lanterns... Borgin and Burkes, read the sign. The door jingled, and out exited a man of pale, gaunt countenance. His gaze flickered to you.

"Hello!" you said cheerfully.

His expression soured.

"Mudblood spawn..."

You had no idea what that meant, and the man didn't elaborate when he strode briskly in the opposite direction. It didn't seem... particularly friendly. Strange, since Garlick insisted that most magical folk were really nice. You turned to the shop.

"What an oddball. Should we go in?"

"Absolutely not!" Mahendra squeaked. "We shouldn't— not without Ms Garlick, at least. Let's go back. Please. This place doesn't feel safe."

You pouted. "Fine. Bore."

Only, when you turned back around to go the other way, it seemed like the alleyway had changed, the cobblestone below your feet shifting leftwards rather than straight. Were alleyways meant to do that? Someone behind you sniggered, which finally tugged your smile into a frown. Now you had no idea how to get out, and by the dawning panic on his face, Mahendra knew it too.

"Now we're lost. We're going to die here! Die surrounded by—"

"Would you stop? Everything is hunky-dory. We just need to find an exit. We can ask someone!"

"Ask someone? They look like they'd sooner eat us for breakfast!"

"No they wouldn't." You laughed. "It's far too late for breakfast. Lunch, maybe."

Mahendra whinnied.

"You two!"

Luckily, Bristlecone came rushing towards them, hoisting his ruby cloak, and you had to admit, you did feel a sense of relief.

"What were you thinking, running off to this place? It's not safe here for your— it's not safe. Come now, make haste!"

Your parents scolded you when you returned. Too curious for your own good, they said, waggling their fingers. Bristlecone agreed, mumbling about safety against the ruffians and scoundrels that frequented Knockturn Alley – as it turned out, not a nice place for the normal person. Mahendra's parents reprimanded him, too, which did make you feel bad. So bad that you offered him your cauldron cake.

"Peace offering?" you said, sheepish. "For getting you into trouble?"

"I don't like sweets."

"I don't believe that."

Mahendra hesitated, then took it, trying not to smile. "Fine. Just don't get me in trouble again."

But you grinned.

"No promises."

You sobbed on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

You were excited, of course. Wildly, incomparably excited, bursting from you like lit gunpowder. You had your books and clothes and things all packed haphazardly in a trunk and wheeled to platforms nine and ten. You were awed again when, with Bristlecone and your parents, you ran straight for the brick wall separating the two platforms, and ended up in another place entirely.

Your father was gruff. "Might've hit my 'ead on the way through. How's there another pla'form between the pla'forms?"

Your mother hushed him, though you could tell she secretly agreed. They'd never get used to magic. You doubted you would either.

Bristlecone helped put your things in the carriage as you looked around. Parents were everywhere, hugging goodbye to their children. Trunks and cages were being manhandled inside, students trading hellos and homework like coin. You spotted a few who had to be your age, in your year, but you'd never met someone raised in the magical world. What if you were too different to fit in?

Mahendra was already there, having gone through the wall before you. His parents and he were checking and re-checking a list, because of course they were. When the train tooted, signalling its looming departure, you turned and threw yourself into your parents' arms, the tears coming hot and fast.

"You be good, sweetling, aw'right?" said your father. "You write us every day now."

"I will," you mumbled into his jacket.

"And you make sure you— do your homework and behave," your mother blubbered. "I don't know how magic works, but you be careful too. It's a blessing to go to school, so make the most of it."

You nodded, because nothing but distressed grunts would come out if you tried to speak again.

You were still sniffling when you boarded the train with Mahendra, hands trembling as you held your glasses and wiped your blouse sleeves across your face. Soon the station was far behind, and the sights were blurring past as the long journey to Scotland began.

"Still think you're being pranked?" you asked him, if only to distract yourself.

Mahendra shrugged. "Won't believe it until I see it."

You already believed. You had to now. You'd left your old life behind.

Nonetheless, sympathy softened his edges. "Shall we find a seat?" he asked gently.

You nodded, following his lead down the corridor. Most of the older students had taken residence in the compartments, chatting, yelling, eating sweets – something you looked forward to – and scribbling last-minute essays. But the older kids were intimidating and often gave you strange looks as you passed, and Mahendra, not one to rock the boat, didn't bother dipping in to ask.

The first compartment that he paused at was one only occupied by three people, two girls and a boy. Diminutive in height, they had to be about eleven or twelve, first years like you. Their light-hearted expressions dimmed when Mahendra knocked and slid open the door.

"Hello," he greeted. "Are— are you first years, too?"

The first girl, dark hair, clearly some East Asian ancestry, slid her gaze to the other two, before smiling. "Yeah, we are. Don't recognise either of you though."

Did they all know each other? You put on a brave face, peering over Mahendra's shoulder. "Well, it's nice to meet you. We're new!"

"Obviously," said the boy, and something glinted in his eye. "Muggle-borns, are you?"

Born to non-magical parents, Garlick had told you. "Yeah!"

The other girl's brow lowered. "Bet this is all so overwhelming to you."

Mahendra froze, but you were determined. "A little! So it'll be nice to talk to with people who already know all the hoo-ha about magic."

The first girl strode over to them and grasped the door.

"It would be." Her smile turned wicked. "Too bad we don't sit with Mudbloods."

She slammed it shut in your face.

The partition didn't dampen how hard the other two laughed.

Your temper rose at once. How rude! You weren't always perfectly mannered, but you knew never to do that. That would earn you a striking at church, and you were prepared to let her know just how impolite that was before Mahendra yanked your sleeve down the train's corridor.

"Let me go! That was so mean of them! We should set them straight—"

"No!" He grasped your arm tightly. "No, leave it, please. I don't want to make enemies before we've even got to the school."

"But they laughed at us! What did we even do?"

What is a Mudblood?

But he shrugged. "I don't know, but please, I am begging you, don't cause trouble. There must be a better place to sit further down."

There was, as it turned out, another compartment three down, with two redheaded boys. You thought they were related at first, but one's face was round and freckled, boyishly young, whereas the other was stocky and tall. After being mocked so callously before, both your and Mahendra's courage had whittled thin, but when you knocked and timidly asked whether you could share the apartment, the two boys were more than happy to accommodate.

Still, as they introduced themselves as Garreth and Leander, prodded you with questions about the non-magical, Muggle, world, and your unease settled, you thought back to what that girl had said. Mudblood. What was that, and why did everyone keep hissing it like a rude word?

Why did it make you feel so small?

When the Sorting Hat called your name into the silent, anticipatory hall, you squealed.

It was rather embarrassing, really, but the noise had emerged from your throat before you could help yourself, and travelled through the hall like a ripple in a pond. The boy behind you had clapped his hands over his ears, and Mahendra had glared at you, so you muttered a quick apology before scurrying up the dais onto the stool.

Deputy Headmistress Weasley placed the Sorting Hat upon your head, and you squeezed your eyes shut, expecting there to be some kind of pain with an article of clothing rummaging in your thoughts. Some people had been instantly Sorted, the Hat barely grazing their hair before it rang out with a house.

For you, however, it pondered.

"You're quite a spitfire, aren't you?" it mused. "You like to explore, you like to learn, combined with a healthy dose of bravery, yes... that would make you suited to Gryffindor."

Garreth and Leander had been singing Gryffindor praises on the way up. The amazing and brave house, they called it.

"But..."

"But, Mr Hat?"

"You're unfailingly loyal and hardworking, too, and such traits are valued in Hufflepuff."

The nice, boring house. "Oh, well, Leander didn't seem particularly impressed with it," you said timidly, "but your description doesn't make it sound so bad... which one is better?"

"No house is better than the other."

As long as it's not Slytherin, you thought, remembering what Leander had said about them, too. That's the evil house.

You'd forgotten, however, that your thoughts at that moment weren't private.

"Slytherin values ambition and cunning," the Sorting Hat remarked, not unkindly. "It values its own sort of loyalty – to the self and to its own. It values using cleverness to create advantageous situations. There is nothing inherently evil about it. It is all in the application."

"Are you... going to put me in Slytherin, sir?"

It let out a wry laugh. "Slytherin is in your future, that's for certain... but it is not the house for you."

You tilted your head. "What do you mean, Slytherin is in my future?"

"Sit upright, if you please. I don't want to slip off your head."

You corrected your position and glanced at Professor Weasley; her smile was slowly faltering. The Hat was taking longer than most to deliberate – and it was eating at you with worry. Your face, flushing with heat as whispers began to break out.

"Indeed, it is your bravery and loyalty that will see you through your years," the Hat remarked. "Which trait is more important to you?"

"Gosh, that's a really big question, Mr Hat," you mumbled, "Both are good. I can't decide."

"Think on it, if you had to choose."

Fleetingly the thought came – well, bravery was all well and good, as was a love to explore, but what use was that if you didn't stick to your friends and family when the time came? What good was it if you didn't show compassion to others along the way?

"Ah," said the Hat. "I understand now."

Panic struck you. "Oh, but what if I don't fit in?"

"Fitting in is overrated." But before you could retort, it called out, "HUFFLEPUFF!" and you were being ushered down to the yellow house. Briefly your eyes caught Garreth – giving you a thumbs-up – and Leander, shrugging with a sort of sad oh well.

Then you saw Mahendra, and noticed he was nodding his head. He approved of something you did? There sure was a first time for everything.

When the Sorting concluded, Garreth and Leander both went to Gryffindor, and Mahendra Ravenclaw, the swot house – no surprises there, because he was too neurotic for his own good – and the Welcoming Feast appeared on the tables with the wave of Headmaster Black's hand. You certainly felt welcome. You'd never seen so much food in your life, and you lived in a sweet shop! Quickly you filled your plate with everything available – all the meat especially, which you only ever ate on rare days.

"Slow down!" the girl next to you said, laughing. "You'll give yourself a tummy ache!"

She was probably right. Perhaps seven chicken drumsticks was a little too much. Sheepishly you put a few back on the platter.

"I'm Adelaide Oakes," she said. "We're going to be sharing a dorm together."

"Nice to meet you!" you said cheerfully. "I'm—"

"I know who you are." Adelaide giggled. "Can't forget the noise you made when your name was called out!"

"Sorry," you said awkwardly.

"It's all right. My uncle told me during his Sorting one of the boys fainted on the stool, so you're doing better than him."

You spoke to her for the rest of the meal, gleaning little more tidbits about the magical world, and how vast and overwhelming it really was. Maybe the Hat was right, that fitting in was overrated, but you did want to fit in a little. Sometimes she said words you simply didn't understand – words that were utter gibberish – and too timid to ask what she meant, you stuffed more food into your mouth to obscure your ham-fisted responses.

You were surprised someone didn't have to roll you out of the Great Hall when the prefects led everyone to their houses.

The students bottlenecked in the foyer, and though you tried to keep a look out for Adelaide, you lost her amongst the sea of black robes. The seventh years were so tall! How was anyone supposed to see anything? Jostled off your feet, you nearly stumbled into the wall before you swerved into what looked like another queue of first years – the pair of first-year twins were in front of you, whispering to themselves.

When the lines thinned, you rocked on your feet, waiting to go to your dorm.

"You're in the wrong place."

You swung around, almost hitting the boy in the face with your hair. He looked vaguely familiar – a name called out amongst yours during the Sorting, and though you didn't remember what his name was, he was definitely a first year, even though he was at least an inch taller. His wheat-gold hair was loosely combed back, posture straight and chin high, all a match with his high-born accent.

Goodness, you'd never met someone so posh before. Was he the descendent of some totty gentry? Were you supposed to curtsy? Call him milord?

But you merely tilted your head as he stared at the ground beyond you, his eyes like strange, chalky pearls. "Aren't we going to the form rooms?" you squeaked.

His frown tightened. "You're meant to be going to the Hufflepuff common room." He roughly jerked his wand to the clump of students bobbing around on the other side of the foyer, hoods lined in gold. "Your house is over that way."

You took notice of his robes then – green, with the insignia of the snake. Slytherin, the evil house. Or... maybe not so evil? You followed his wand point and spotted a blonde head with the Hufflepuffs. Adelaide.

"Oh!" You let out a sheepish giggle. "Thanks!"

He didn't respond as you walked away, and though it was a simple act to correct your hapless ability to follow directions, you thought perhaps that the Hat had been right, and Leander wrong. He'd been effortlessly aloof, but not mean. If that was indication of Slytherin values, then they seemed perfectly nice. That boy... seemed nice.

You thought your life had already changed, so you didn't know then, of course, that meeting him would change it all again.

As fate would have it, you met him properly the next day, and learnt his name when you were partnered in Charms – Ominis Gaunt, a strange name for a strange boy. Blind, yet able to detect his surroundings as easily as you could. Enigmatic, for despite his bluntness his expressions never gave much away. Pure-blood, though gracious to you and your very obvious working-class, and worse, Muggle, upbringing.

You had a very clear idea of who he was by Herbology, the next class. You'd unfortunately made him late – a poor combination of his lack of sight and your lack of, well, understanding of the magical world. He'd made his disdain known, so you were quite certain this boy would follow rules, finish all his homework on time, never stray too far from the teachers' leash. You were quite certain he was going to be uptight forever.

Your mind changed by the afternoon's History of Magic class.

This was a subject that excited you. The class, for one, would fill in the gaps Muggle history could not explain. Now that you knew magic existed, you had so many questions. Was Jack the Ripper a wizard? Was the Great Fire of London started by a wayward Fire charm? Did the queen know all about this too? The subject was also taught by a ghost, which was the coolest thing ever. A ghost! Yet despite your intrigue in the founders of Hogwarts, Professor Binns could, frankly, put a brick wall to sleep.

He put Ominis to sleep in ten minutes.

You saw him wobble in your periphery, and you slid your gaze over. Eyes shut. Head leant in slender hand. Quill abandoned in the ink well. For someone whose expression seemed permanently stuck somewhere between disregard and a full-on scowl, it was strange to see him at peace, comfortable enough that he could, in fact, doze.

On the first day! The first History of Magic class!

Perhaps you'd tired him out. That was a possibility, given he didn't respond very much to your rapid-fire chatter. Still, you didn't want him to risk getting caught, so when Binns wandered through the desks – literally, through them – towards the stained glass window depicting the founders, you leant over to him.

"Pssst. Ominis."

No response.

"Ominis?"

"Mmm. What?"

"You should pay attention, don't you think?"

"Already know it all."

"About the Hogwarts founders?" You frowned. "How?"

He didn't answer. Maybe it was a magical child thing, to already know about the school. It seemed most of the others in your year had long-since known Hogwarts was part of their destiny, after all. You turned back around, prepared to pay attention again, but Binns was coming your way.

Literally, about to zone through the desk.

Oh no, no, no! He'd see Ominis snoozing! Quickly your hand shot out, punching his arm in warning – but you were too forceful, batting it hard enough that his head slipped out of his grip and banged against the desk.

The room went silent. He drew up slowly, eyes open and furious, as you withheld a strangled gasp.

"Something the matter?" Binns floated to your left. "What was that noise?"

"S-Sorry Professor!" you squealed at once, a lie unspooling. "I, erm... just got so excited, I had to... slap my hand... against the desk!"

"Slap... your hand... against the desk..."

"Don't you do that? You know, Oh, Aston Villa won the Challenge Cup? Hurrah!" You slapped your hand on the desk – and Lord, the pain. When Binns looked at you like you were quite mad, and Ominis grimaced, you quickly added, "It's just, erm, I'm really excited to learn about Saladin—"

"Salazar."

"— Salazar Slytherin, you know?"

There were a snort from behind. Sebastian, who probably saw the whole ordeal.

Binns' expression didn't change. "I'd caution against doing that a third time. A desk is for writing, not for Bludger bat practice."

Whatever the heck that meant. "Yes, sir."

He went back to his lecture, and you dared glance at Ominis. His bottom lip jutted out, and now that Binns was gone he was massaging his forehead.

"You know," he muttered, "a simple he's coming this way would've sufficed."

"I know. I didn't think."

"Obviously."

"Sorry."

"It was only my entire forehead, of which I'm certain won't painfully bruise." You winced, but then he said, with surprising lightness, "Your excuse was dreadful, by the way."

"It worked, so that's all that matters."

"Mind you don't use it again. I doubt it'll work a second time."

You nodded, then cursed yourself – he couldn't see it. "Thank you for giving me the name."

"Don't mention it. Ever." His lips rolled. "And though your method was crude... thank you for helping me escape detention."

You almost wanted to brag to Mahendra, seated somewhere at the back of the classroom. See? I'm not trouble all the time.

You glanced at Ominis, rubbing his forehead.

Only most of it.

Thank you for reading! Please like/ reblog if you enjoyed <3

[read Chapter 2 on AO3, read Chapter 2 on Wattpad] [Divider credit]

[tanukitsuneko-suki]

build episode 44 thoughts:

- no more memes i’m expressing myself solely through text

- kazumin and gentokun i’m sorry i know you guys are trying your best but this is so funny to me. can you imagine the guilt they’d feel after senryuu saves their asses

- THEY JUST GAVE UP ROFL

- ah. Oh. Okay. One last bottle if they succeed with kazumin and gentoku. huhhhh i wonder who would that be 🤔

- maybe there are parallel universes involved. because i do wonder. i know k** has that even if only in the spin-off movie

- i think the dad is Good actually but i kinda hate his ass atm so ✌︎('ω')✌︎

- my son looks like a moron in these contraptions

- half-naked banjo and he’s unmoved ohhhh i could never

- BLIZZARD KNUCKLE FUCK I KNEW IT!!!! I FUCKING KNEW HE’D LOOK GOOD IN ICE/AS AN ICE DRAGON FUCK FUCK FUCKKKKKK!!!!!!!! THANK YOU SENTO SAIKOU DESHOU TENSAI DESHOU 😭🙏🙏💙💙💙💙💙❄️❄️❄️

- KONO MAMA ARUKI TSUDZUKETERUUUUU

- oh my god they ARE getting turned into lost smashes 😭😬

- wait. the episode title??? THE END OF EVOLT??? HUH?

- they’re so fucking suicidal too damn okayyyy

- “at first it was for my home.” so now is it for sento or what :-|

- they’re so funny acting in the tubes btw

- hell NAHHHHH THEY JUST DROPPED BY THE FACILITY FOR A FREE UPGRADE 😂

- AND THEY JUST FUCKING RAN AWAY GENKAZU STOP YALL ARE TOO FUNNY😭😭😭😭

- do you guys think they also stayed up playing monhun too

- married couple saving their bachelor friends lmfao

- i think it’s funny. like. mid-season i was still unconvinced it’s that shippable but. they’re literally giving married couple vibes atm. which is a feat coming from two men who feel TOTALLY single when you don’t see them with each other

- it’s the unwavering trust they have for each other

- he’s giving sento lore exposition/enemy intel while saying his villain speech that’s why i’m not really convinced he is evil

- oh yeah see exactly (he just proved me right 2 seconds later)

- have i mentioned that the kazusen neck caress got to me last episode

- “and besides, we don’t want to be a burden to you guys anymore” NOOOOOO BABYYYY NOT LIKE THIS 😭😭 I WANTED YOU TO LEVEL UP BUT NOT LIKE THIS

- banjo continues to be insane as always❤️ go king

- KAZUMIN😭😭😭😭😭 FUCK

- to be fair i’ll throw hands for a banjo ryuga body pillow too

- banjo being interested in sawa in a bikini is throwing me tf off 😂

- hehe…hehe lol…. can’t take grease and rogue to fights…but it’s okay if it’s him and banjo…hehe…hehe best match 🥰❤️💙 red blue magma ice hehehe…

- i think if either of them dies rn it would be really bad

- aaaah evolt is getting suspicious

- i actually like that sento pushes banjo so hard because that means he relies on banjo a lot. it’s a connection as if the other is their own person. there’s nobody else sento trusts more in the world right now other than banjo

- UWAAAAH AND BANJO RESPONDING IN KIND 😭😭😭 BEST MATCHHH ❤️💙❤️💙

- y’all think their cell service providers are eavesdropping on their calls lol

- banjo eating gentoku’s shitty food with no reaction 😭 my man’s tastebuds have been BURNED

- fuckass evacuation center sleeping quarters 😭

- BANJO WAKE UP

- sento is very wife-shaped

- YAYYYYYYY HELLO YOU GUYS

- heated drama between men..

- GENTOKU LMFAOOOOOO😭😭😭😭😭😭

- HOW DO YOU GO FROM EARLY SEASON BIG BAD TO COMIC RELIEF HE’S KILLING ME. REWATCHING BUILD IS GONNA BE SO UNSERIOUS 😭😭😭 GENTOKU

- so cute babyyyy ❤️🐇

- hmm…evolt vs. chronicle..i wonder…

- it’s saying all this shit but it can’t even do anything without them fixing its driver lol

- well we have five episodes left so..?

- no you didn’t win 😭 my sweet summer children

- aaaah. it was staged ✨ very yabai ne

- the triple baka standing at the back lmfao 😭😭 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

- well nevermind maybe he really is evil 😭 you really can’t trust estranged fathers man…

[14muffinz]

You know those aus? Where the characters are combined or 'fused?'

I've been thinking about that under the circumstances of a tmnt crossover fic. Where this combination is unwilling.

So the way I can see this going means it absolutely has to involve rise, which I also like because it allows for funky designs. Some mission in the hidden city, possibly involving big mama because ✨drama✨, and each boy is fused with their counterpart.

This can be very different depending on the iteration, so I'm just gonna write down vaguely I imagine each one being:

Leo: Slightly obsessive with training. He's passionate, but maybe a bit too much. He's a great strategist, but is unfortunately bad at explaining his plans to his brothers. The more anxious he is, the more talkative he becomes, usually spouting quips to distract himself. Has knowledge with a bunch of different weapons, but prefers the classic katanas.

Raph: Anxiety. This boy is stressed at all times, and the only way he knows how to mask it is by grouching, or hitting things. The people around him are infuriating, especially because they keep asking all these questions. Like, he's just one guy, why can't they get that? Raph carries both his sai and tonfa, but will more often fight with his tonfa.

Donnie: Very smart. Their brain processes information very fast. They like when things make sense. They're also the only fusion aware that they're a fusion, which, like Raph, they are not a big fan of. Their fusion is the least stable, defaulting to we/us and preferring they/them over he/him, though both are acceptable. They don't remember what each button on the tech bo does, but they do have a staff with a taser on each end as a comprimise.

Mikey: Wholsomest boy. The only reason he doesn't know about the fusion stuff is that the Aprils and Caseys don't want to burst his bubble, but they're all pretty sure he could take it. Big fan of art, he loves to cook as well but due to conflicting knowledge they don't do it as much as they would separately. He loves the extra long chain he gets from rise Mikey's kusari-fundo, so he uses that, though similar to the Raph's sometimes they'll carry around nunchaku as well.

~~~

So yeah, the supporting cast were not on this mission and thus were not turned. They received an emergency alert from rise donnie's systems while everybody was being fused, which is the only warning that they got.

It's mostly on Draxum to make a fix, but it's unfortunately not that simple because they're from different dimensions. Casey JR (is it alr if I call him June because I'm gonna fair warning it's instinct) tries to help where he can, but his knowledge is limited. There's a big argument between the Aprils over whether or not informing the Mikeys of the situation and letting them help would speed things up or not.

The issue with telling them, is Raph's very much denying the information. They know about it, but they refuse to listen. The Donnie's took a lot of convincing as well, and the topic clearly causes them a lot of distress, though they refuse to explain exactly why.

That's all I've got for right now. But if anyone wants to help me make this a solid au, please shoot me an ask. Please. I'm begging. I really want to have more to say about this but I need someone to pick my brain.

Tag is forced fusions au!

[harmshake]

All To Me: Chapter Seven (Final)

Golden finally chooses which promise is more vital: The one she made to Roman or the one she made to herself...

Roman Reigns x Golden (Chubby!Black!OC) | 18+ ONLY, NSFW, drama | 4,466 words

Happy reading! Read all the chapters or my other Roman stories here, if you'd like. ✨

"There's my baby girl!" 

Joe knelt on one knee and opened his arms to catch his daughter in a hug as she galloped to him. She almost tripped in her little, pink boots as she rushed to him down the porch steps of her mom's home, just as excited to see him as he was to see her.

"Whoa, be careful," he said in a concerned tone as he held her but Ka'Mayah giggled with her arms around his neck. It made the grin already on his face grow bigger. "How are you? Feelin' better I see."

"I am. I still cough but Mama said I can go back to school on Monday," Ka'Mayah replied in her tiny voice with a sudden, small cough as if to prove her point, but she covered her mouth with her pink jacket sleeve as Joe hoisted her into his arms. He carried her back inside Jalah's house as she ran out without her bags when he pulled up in his truck and noticed her peeking through the blinds of the front window.

"Did you miss goin' to school this past week?" Joe asked, closing the door behind them and spotting Jalah to their right in the den as she held their daughter's bags in her hand and a slight scowl on her face.

"Nope. But I missed you," Ka'Mayah said and he smiled, even as her mom kept her glare on him. 

Instead of shooting her one back, he kissed his daughter atop her dark, pink-beaded flat twists that fell to her shoulders before he said with a chuckle, "I missed you more."

He decided not to let the woman ruin his good mood. Not when he finally got to be with his daughter after Jalah kept her from him when she had the flu last week—and not when he had a great weekend trip for her to make her feel even better. Yet he needed to speak with Jalah for that exact reason, and while he was certain it would ruin her mood, he didn't care. 

Golden would be on that trip with them and whether his baby's mother liked it or not, she was the future stepmother of their daughter. And Joe needed her to accept that and stop trying to make shit complicated. The way she kept her glare on him as she extended her hand for him to grab Ka'Mayah's bags before she nearly dropped them to the carpet, her other hand planted on her hip, he knew Jalah wasn't done being complicated just yet.

He packed up his daughter and her things in his truck, buckling her into her car seat and securing her pink, wireless headphones over her ears as she turned her attention to her tablet before Joe turned his to her mother behind him on her curb. 

"I'mma keep this short. Don't fix your fingers to hit up my girl on some bullshit ever again. You hear me?" he said to her in a low, cold snarl. He watched her eyes finally widen from her glare before they flitted to Ka'Mayah and back to him.

"That's how you gon' talk to me in front of our daughter?" Jalah retorted with surprise still on her face. Then she smirked and breathed a curt laugh as she added, "Hmph. How I see it, someone had to tell yo' 'girl' that y'all full of shit."

"Naw, that's you. 'Cause your only concern should be how I take care of our child—which I do—and you still wanna act like there's a problem," Joe shot back. "You know I ain't never brought another woman around our daughter, so that should tell you somethin'. You gon' respect Golden 'cause she's a part of Ka'Mayah's life now, too. And that's the way it's gon' be."

Joe felt his nostrils flare with his stern tone, yet his eyes were steady as they bore into Jalah's brown ones that looked unphased by his words before they shifted back into that damn glare. He didn't understand what kept getting under her skin. He was a good dad who would go out of his way for his baby girl. He was honest about his feelings for Golden from the beginning. He was aware that somewhere deep down in her heart, Jalah likely still wanted him but she'd stopped making it obvious...which was for the best as Joe started making his love for Golden crystal clear.

"Yeah, okay, right. We'll see for how long. 'Cause unlike you, I see shit for what it is and what it ain't." Jalah brushed past him to lean into his backseat and give Ka'Mayah hugs and kisses. When she leaned back out, she shook her head at him before stuffing her hands into her hoodie's pocket and scurrying back up her driveway to escape the abrupt, chilly breeze.

Joe climbed into his truck and cranked up the heat to shake that same chill, although it upset him to realize it came from more than just the weather...

Thankfully the weather at Magic Kingdom later that afternoon was sunny, the chill shaken loose by the slightly warm rays that Joe could feel through his collared sweater. He felt that warmth in his heart, as well, as he held Golden's hand in his left and Ka'Mayah's in his right as they strolled out of Peter Pan's Flight. That warmth shined bright from his daughter's energy as she bounced and skipped at his side, tugging him to walk faster when she spotted Tinker Bell posing for a picture with a family a few feet away from them.

That warmth also kissed him on the cheek as Golden nuzzled her nose to it, too, and squeezed his hand as they stood in line to take a photo with the fairy. Joe gazed at that photo on his phone—as well as the many others they took that day, like his daughter with Tiana, her favorite Princess—after they returned to their suite in the Walt Disney World Resort. He couldn't get enough of seeing his two favorite girls together. Granted, it was better to see them right in front of him as they sat on the sofa in the living room as Ka'Mayah snuggled up at her side with her tablet to make her watch The Princess and the Frog with her, a movie his daughter watched at least twice a day.

Joe wanted to be surprised by how easily and quickly they warmed up to each other, Ka'Mayah's little face beaming with smiles and a million questions for Golden that his girlfriend patiently answered as she smiled back, but he always knew this would happen. He knew he'd hear his daughter's voice singing Golden's praises, and he knew he'd see love blossoming in Golden's eyes for her from their instant bond.

What he didn't know for certain was the full of extent of Golden's emotions behind those deep brown eyes. She had a habit of sometimes concealing her fears to put on a content facade for him, and he hoped she was as happy as she appeared to be with Ka'Mayah rewinding scenes of the movie she wanted her to see again.

He stood in the kitchenette organizing the takeout steaks, veggies, chicken tenders, and fries he'd ordered for their dinner onto plates, a smile of his own stuck on his lips until he heard Ka'Mayah ask, "Are you and my Dad gonna get married and be together forever like Princess Tiana and Prince Naveen?"

His eyes darted up to see Golden already staring at him with a flustered look. "Uh, sweetie, come get your plate. You want honey mustard or ranch?" Joe spoke up with enough bass in his gentle tone that his daughter whipped her head to him before leaping off the couch to join him in the kitchen.

When Golden got up, too, Joe saw that her content facade was starting to crack when she shot him a weary smile as she grabbed her plate. He knew better than to ask her right then what was on her mind that avoided him as they all ate dinner and watched Tangled in the living room—but after he tucked Ka'Mayah in for bed and found Golden in the dark master bedroom down the hallway, his voice was soft as he said, "Baby, you alright?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?" She still didn't meet his gaze as hers lingered out and through the curtain at the cloudy midnight sky lit up by lights from suites beneath and around them in the giant resort. Joe flicked on the lamp on the nightstand, sat down next to her on the bed, and carefully wrapped his arm around her waist. At least she nestled closer to his side instead of shirking away from his touch, he considered.

"Just wonderin' you felt about today. I feel like you don't always tell me everything goin' on in that pretty head of yours," Joe said teasingly, hoping it would make her smile. When she sighed with her face hidden in his chest, he cupped her by the chin to make her look at him. "You gon' tell me what's on your mind, sweetheart? 'Cause I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong."

"I just don't want to ruin our trip talking about the same shit," Golden mumbled.

"The only thing you're ruinin' is your mood by not talkin' to me, baby. I don't care what it's about. I care 'bout how you're feelin'," Joe reminded her with a short and sweet kiss on her thick lips. She reached up then to caress her fingers along his that still held her chin as she studied his face which he hoped conveyed the sincerity of his words.

That's when she took a little breath and spilled the words he knew she'd been holding in. "I spoke with my homegirl earlier today about...all of this. I felt good about it until you told me what Jalah said when you saw her. I let that go but then hearing what your baby said kinda made it all rush back. It made me realize, well, realize again, that I'm a stranger to her. And that it's my fault."

"Before you try to tell me I'm wrong, let me finish. My homegirl told me something that reminded me of something that you actually said last week. 'If it's right, it will feel right.'" Golden put a finger to his lips to keep him from interrupting her before she gently slipped away from Joe to walk over to the curtains that she peered through again. It was like she was looking into the night to find the nerve to say the right words, and it made his heart pound. "She said the right decision is usually the one that lingers on the mind most. And I keep thinking the same thing over and over, Joe."

"What's that?" He hoped his tone didn't waver as his heart was racing now. She kept her back to him and her eyes on the night as he kept his eyes on her, feeling that wave of dread wash over him before she said what he had been fearing she would.

"I can't do this...it just...doesn't feel right." Golden finally turned to him and he saw the tears sliding down her full cheeks. He lept up immediately to embrace her, but she shook her head at him. "I want this to feel right...I really, really want it to, but today reminded me that no matter what, I will always be an outsider to your family."

Joe stood before her feeling helpless as she wouldn't let him even wipe away her tears. "What're you sayin', baby? Ka'Mayah adores you. We were havin' a good time today as a family...what changed?"

"Nothing and that's the problem." She smudged the back of her hand to her face to catch her tears as her soft voice grew even softer like she was afraid to admit the truth to him as she said, "I thought my feelings would change. But they didn't. I don't want to be a mom and I don't want to be a stepmom. And I don't want to hurt her or you any longer by pretending it's something I'll ever want to be."

The weather outside was serene yet Joe felt their old storm thunder in his chest, that crack of lightning striking his heart as he watched her try to snatch up her luggage. It struck his heart hard as that truth poured down on him even harder when Golden jerked away from him when he tried to stop her. 

"So you just gon' walk out right now? You wanna get away from me that bad, Golden? What did I do so wrong that you can't even sleep on it or wait 'til the trip is over to talk it through, huh?" Joe tried not to raise his voice as he didn't want to wake up his daughter or further upset Golden, especially when it wasn't the fury of the storm that made his deep voice boom, but the agonizing shock of lightning that panged his heart.

It made his eyes well with stinging tears that he blinked back as hers still stained her beautiful, brown skin. "I've slept on it for seven years, plus two more weeks. Each time I woke up, I had to convince myself that it felt right," Golden sniffled as she tightly clutched her luggage in her right hand. "But I can't do it anymore. I love you but I can't." 

She switched around to hurry out the bedroom door, and while Joe's mind knew he should let her leave if that's what she wanted, his heart thudded with devastating thunder, moving his body to react instinctively and run after her. His shaky fingers closed around her wrist that held her luggage, feeling her drop it when he brought her hand to his lips to plant trembling kisses on her knuckles. She gazed up at him as he desperately gazed down at her, unable to hold in his tears that he felt wet his face and beard.

"I love you, Golden. Please...don't give up on us." He had never cried over a woman but Golden wasn't just a woman. She was the only woman to him. The only woman he'd ever fallen in love with. The only woman he'd ever envisioned a future with. The thought of her abandoning ship when it hadn't even been a month since they made it official threatened to wreck him.

"I'm not giving up...we tried and it's not working," Golden whispered, her eyes gloomily following his kisses that trailed up her arm and to her shoulder. He prayed she wouldn't yank back as he put his arms around her to kiss her lips, but she did grab his face into her hands to make his teary gaze focus on hers.

"Listen to me. I can't help how I feel, Joe. I feel wrong. Wrong trying to play house with a family I don't belong in...and wrong trying to be someone I'm not."

"Then why does everything 'bout you feel right?" He carefully rested his forehead on hers, the pitter-patter of their breaths on one another's lips. It reminded him of every breath they'd taken when they lightly snored and cuddled in bed on lazy mornings...when they laughed and grinned together...when they kissed softly and inhaled each other's essence as they made love...

When Joe met Golden, he wasn't prepared for the love she would flood his world with. She was just his real estate agent patiently helping him find a place to call home in Florida. Yet the more time they spent together, the more her aura soaked him in a succulent warmth that he couldn't flee, that he could feel even when she wasn't around. He knew then, and for every minute of every year since, that Golden was the love of his life...that she was his true home.

He knew he was the reason there was trouble at home before. Yet he was tireless in rebuilding what he'd broken, long ago deserting other women and his pride to keep their love afloat. He needed to show her the same patience she showed him because Joe wouldn't desert his home. He tentatively kissed her damp cheek as he murmured, "I'll tell you why...'cause you're my everything."

"How can I be your everything when your daughter is, too? Your family is your priority, not me." Golden's voice cracked as his kisses on her face made her cry. He was trying to kiss those tears away and trying to make her understand that his heart had more than enough room for her and his daughter. When she dropped her grasp from his face, he caught them in his hands and kissed her knuckles again, scrambling to find the words that he hoped his eyes would say.

"'Cause I still need you," Joe uttered with another kiss that he pressed to her lips. "What do you need? Whatever it is, I'll do it, baby, 'cause I can't be without you."

He tried to pull her into his arms once more and hold her close, keep her put, but he already felt her pulling away, out of his arms and out of his life as she swiped up her luggage from the floor and stared at him with that desolate and distant gaze that sent a cold chill down his spine.

"You've done everything right, baby. But this ain't right for me. I'm sorry." Golden's final words to him sounded like they tried to choke her as a sob escaped her throat at the same time before she fled the bedroom. Joe's instincts urged him to chase her, do fucking anything to keep her here, but his feet felt weighed to the floor like an anchor was tied to them. 

And as that violent sea of emotions, at last, drowned him, Joe realized with tears as heavy as the storm in his heart that his love would not save them.

As Golden glanced in the mirror above her foyer end table, she saw a woman with a coily afro that framed her round face glancing back at her in her gold wire frame glasses, a pair she'd kept on her for years when she needed an extra set of eyes for reading or driving. She liked to give herself a final look and smile before she left her home to get behind the wheel and start her work day, a habit she picked up a while ago to boost her mood.

While it didn't always do the trick, Golden had promised herself to be more intentional with her actions and maintain the routine as she was learning consistency was essential. And as Julez scampered and slid across her tile floor to crash into her ankles as he tried to climb them, her puppy Rottweiler was also consistent in saying goodbye to her—which would do the trick.

She scooped him up into her arms, careful not to let him lick off her makeup from her cheeks as he tried to give them frantic kisses that made them hurt from how big she grinned. "I love you, too, sheesh," Golden giggled, kissing him on his furry forehead and putting him down before she heard a knock on her door she was about to open.

"Good morning, Goldie," her dog sitter, Lucretia, said with a sweet smile. Golden adored the way the older woman wore colorful, cotton sweaters that she knitted herself, claiming they fought off the chilly, spring air better than anything from the stores. Golden had to agree as the cable knit, lavender cardigan she made for her was the coziest article of clothing in her closet.

She didn't wear it today as the weather was due to warm up in the afternoon, yet she couldn't resist going to the coffee shop downtown from her job for a hot chocolate she'd bring to the office with her. "Help yourself to coffee and anything in the fridge, Miss Lucretia. Oh! And will you try the apple pie? I baked it last night and did my best with that recipe you gave me," Golden said to her and the woman chuckled as she carefully bent over to pet an excited Julez at her feet. "I'll be home around four today, if that's okay."

"Sounds good. A bit late for you, though, ain't it? You gotchu a lil lunch date?" Lucretia peered over at her with a sly grin.

"Um, not exactly," Golden replied with a blush of embarrassment that her dear dog sitter of all people could tell something was up with her schedule. "I'll see you later."

The small cafe smelled like chai lattes and, like always, was crowded with two separate lines of people—half silent with seven a.m. grogginess and half vibrant with chatter that sounded loud for the hour—waiting on a cup of the best coffee in town. Golden was somewhere in the middle as she stood behind a tall man after placing her order, scrolling through her emails to see what clients and assignments awaited her at the office.

Her eyes landed on the reminder alert from her therapist that she received yesterday, one she had already opened as she wanted the full scope of what to expect from her first session with her this afternoon. She had hesitated to tell Lucretia this was her "date" as Golden wasn't quite ready to share that with her. However, it wasn't a secret to her best friend who had actually recommended Chenelle and promised her she would love her.

She was inclined to believe her friend as Golden had often sought her sound advice, but she knew it was time to be a big girl and invest in her mental wellness. She was grateful that lately it hadn't been as bad as it used to be, but it was still in a place where she wanted to learn to healthily deal with her troubles and heal from them.

Especially as her eyes flickered to the table in the left corner of the room by the window that faced the street. It sat two men with muffins and paper cups of coffee at the moment, but Golden remembered when she and Joe would occupy that space for the better part of an afternoon every afternoon for weeks. She would have her laptop open yet her eyes on him as he gazed at her, too, and spoke about the complexities of his dream home before he'd switch to the complexities of her brown eyes that shone almost hazel in the sunlight that touched her face.

"Did you know your eyes change color? They're beautiful," Joe said as a cute joke and took a long sip of his cappuccino. His tongue quickly caught the bit of foamed milk that touched his top lip, but Golden knew he was making a show of it, flirting with her as usual when they were supposed to be working.

And as usual, she pretended not to notice as he was her client—even if he was dangerously beautiful, as well. "They don't but thank you, Joe. You're just full of compliments today, huh?" Golden remarked with a little giggle as she pried her eyes away from him and back to her laptop screen to tap it and show him a few listings that fit his criteria.

"Why not? You deserve every single one of them and more," Joe hummed, his gracious gaze still on her that she saw from the corner of her eye as she blushed.

The memory could have been more troubling, but it troubled her a bit to deal with the fact that it still lived in her head all these years later. She noticed that even then Joe had been persistent in wanting to be in her life in one way or another, making a home for himself in her heart. For a while, it was just as a fleeting lover and for even longer it was as the love of her life. 

And now it was as nothing at all. It'd been like this for nearly a year and each day it got easier to be by herself as that was something. Golden knew for a long time that being alone and belonging all to herself and no one else was the best way to heal...and she was damn proud of herself.

Golden shoved her phone back into her purse as she moved with the line, following suit when the tall man in front of her stepped out of the way of another giant man holding a cup carrier with his matching giant, to-go cappuccino and a tiny carton of apple juice in one hand and a little girl's hand in his other.

It took her less than a second to recognize that long, black hair slicked back in a bun off his handsome face, his coffee-brown eyes darting to her in that same second. He looked shocked to see Golden and the feeling was mutual as she didn't expect him to be in town on a Friday morning when he was usually on the road. But it was clear from the pink backpack strapped to Ka'Mayah and the tablet glued to her hand that he was off work and on Daddy duty—and in a hurry as he barely stopped long enough for either of them to blink in surprise.

Nonetheless, Joe found another long second to give her a tender smile, one where Golden could see a million emotions as they flitted across his full lips like they wanted to tell her a million things. Yet when he said nothing, Golden softly smiled back.

It was like he could see all over her the only emotion she wanted to feel after finally weathering the storm of their relationship: Peace.

While she may have not achieved perfect peace yet, Golden chose to be patient and diligent with herself as she cleared the clouds from her life to make room for more peaceful, sunny skies. And when Joe gently squeezed his daughter's hand to come along with him, she saw in his small, sentimental smile at her that he chose not to disturb her peace.

She glimpsed behind her to see them weave through the crowd and out of the coffee shop before she looked forward with her delicate smile still on her lips, too, which she hid with the hot chocolate the barista handed to her. She couldn't help but smile to herself as she realized she survived her first post-breakup encounter with him without tripping and falling into the deep pool of his eyes that she had been certain she'd drown in again.

Instead, Golden felt as light as the air that whisked through her hair as she stepped outside and went to work, carrying on with the rest of her tranquil day that she knew would lead to another and another.

.

.

.

Thanks for reading! 💜

a/n: We've finally made it to the end. How we feeling? 🥺

I'll tell you how I'm feeling...relieved! This series was not planned as y'all know I got fifty leven WiPs I could have posted. Lol.

But this story came to me at the start of this new year when I realized I wanted to purge my demons about my past relationships, and finally unpack my trauma the best way I know how: Through my words.

What you read was essentially my story, my grief, and my path to healing from bad relationships. All of Joe's (and Jalah's) actions, right down to some of the dialogue, was something an ex-boyfriend of mine has done and said to me that left me in a new dark place over the years.

And this year, I decided I'm ready to move tf on with my life and feel good about myself and my future.

I hope you enjoyed this series and I hope 2024 treats you well and shows you the kindness you deserve. Just remember: Show yourself kindness first! 🖤

🫶🏾 Tagging: @wrestlingprincess80 @visionarymode @miyuhpapayuh @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @vebner37 @dreamsinfocus @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @jeyusos-girl @nayys-world @msbigredmachine @purplehairgawdess @mohawkmama @po3ticb3auty @alyyaanna @murrylove @papireigns-05 @vintage-pvssy @bebesobrielo @urasunflower @seeingstarks @555sage @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @theninthwonder @tabletheofhead @weirdosandhopelessromantics @venusesworld @ariieeesworld @sassginaswanmills @theglamclosetsl @baeusos @2-muchsauce @empressdede @woahdude9481 @browngalmal @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @twocentuar @claymorexpunisher @alichesmi @eclectic-tee @brwnsugababe @joannasteez @whatdoeseverybodywant @puppetmastermya

[bouncycloud]

hi! so I remember seeing in the comments section in one of the previous chapters that you said that we'll be finding out the reason why barty sr hates his parents so much in the summer before fourth year??? litr burning with curiosity like were they abusive or smth, were they like walburga and tortured him with dark magic thats why he hates dark magic sm? dying to know. thank you so much for this fic, ive always had an obsession with the crouch family and your fic is like the answer to my prayers.

Lol me and my loose mouth

Yes, it will be revealed in chapter 39 why barty senior hates charis crouch :))

As you can probably tell, i was also intrigued by the chrouch family😄

Barty, who had 12 owls and joined DE as the son of the head of DMLE at the time of war. According to Sirius in Goblet of Fire, he can't be more than 19 when he was captured. He was captured after voldy was gone, guys. After October 1981! Which means he was barely out of Hogwarts then! And he was already with Rabastan, Rodolphus, and Bellatrix! If Regulus and Evan weren't already dead by then, i'm sure they'd join them too TT Barty also managed to fool dumbledore and confused an ancient artifact under dumble's nose. I bet it was Barty who prepared the potion for Voldy's return ritual. And get this? He hates his negelctful father. The drama!!✨

Meanwhile Barty senior was an ambitious man, 'powerfully magical' or so Sirius Black said, Head of the DMLE during the first war and fought voldy ruthlessly (said sirius again), aims to be the prime minister, speak hundreds of languages, imperiused his own son and locked him up for more than a decade -

Yup. He's a special character, alright.

Oh, let's not forget mama crouch : got sick after her son was captured. Begged her husband to save him. Exchange herself for her son and then dies while still wearing her son's skin under the polyjuice potion -

This family is unhinged, I tell you. Unhinged. Just one step under the blacks, really.

I love them TT

[catindabag]

TBOSAS on Crack short take (51)

*The Power of “Love”* Read [this] first.

Felix: Andie, stop the pizza truck right now before we crash!

Androcles: I don’t know how!😭

Felix: We’ve already passed the city’s maximum speed limits!

Androcles: What’s a speed limit?!

Hilarius: Who even taught you how to drive, Anderson?!

Androcles: Nobody!

Hilarius: Then why did you show us your freaking driver’s license?!

Androcles: That was fake! Dennis gave it to me!

Dennis: That’s a lie! You stole it from me!

Androcles: Potato, potato!

Felix: Andie, eyes on the road before you hit the zoo’s entrance gates-

Lysistrata: And the gates flew off.

Felix: The gates f*ckin’ flew, Anderson!! The gates f*ckin’ flew to the moon!

Androcles: I’m Sorry!😫

Vipsania: My auntie is so gonna strangle us for this!

Gaius: Heck! My mama will kill and disown me at the same time!

Coryo: Felix, please tell me that we’re not paying for those gates!

Felix: I hope not!

Coryo: I have no money! Sejanus, my love, help me!😫

Sejanus: I’ll pay any bill for you, my love~!😍

Coryo: Andie, watch out! There’s a rabid raccoon crossing the road!

Androcles: Should I hit it too?!

Coryo: No-

Juno: Kill it, Andie! kill it!😈

Persephone: Andie, turn left! The Tributes’ enclosure is right there!

Androcles: My left or your left?!

Persephone: We have the same view, Andie!!

Livia: I knew we should’ve just taken my ✨hot pink limousine✨!

Dennis: Liv, why are you even here?

Livia: For the ✨drama✨.💅

Florus: Guys, I think I’m going to puke!🤢

Juno: No! Not in front of my exclusive pajama onesie!😫

Felix: Andie, slow down! We’re almost there!

Coryo: Seriously, Anderson, park this f*ckin’ pizza truck before we hit something else!

Florus: Or someone!

Clemensia: Just hit the brakes already!

Androcles: Which one?!

Clemensia: I don’t know!

Felix: All of them?!

Coryo: Sejanus! Sej, Babe, do something!😭

Sejanus: Of course, Babe! Anything for my Coryo~!😍 *squeezes Andie to the side and hits the brakes*

Felix: Finally!

Gaius: Are we still alive?!

Coryo: I love you, Babe!😭

Sejanus: I love you too!!

Festus: I can’t believe the power of ✨Snowjanus✨ saved us all!

Sejanus: It’s the power of love!!

Coryo: Sure, Babe. Whatever you say-

Sejanus: My Coryo, my love, my Snow Bae, kiss me. Kiss me now~!!

Coryo: Fine. Come here.

Sejanus: Yey!😍 *starts making out with Coryo*

Livia: Can someone open these ugly ✨peasant doors✨ for me?

Felix: Liv, this is a pizza truck-

Livia: I need to get out ASAP before idiot Plinth takes their “love” making to the next level-

Felix: They’re already making out in front of us.😑

Livia: That’s the point.

Lysistrata: Get my expensive Snowjanus cameras, Creed!

Festus: Just a minute, Lizzie. My Percy Bae needs my help.

Persephone: The pizzas, Festus Bae! The bacon pizzas are ruined!😩

Festus: They’re still edible-

Florus: But where’s the milk?

Dennis: At the back with Vipsania and Palmyra-

Florus: You left the milk with Palmyra?!

Dennis: It’s fine! Palmyra can’t drink them all-

Palmyra: Hey, guys, funny story-

Felix: Monty, did you perhaps “accidentally” emptied 10 gallons of milk when we were driving?

Palmyra: Vipsania dared me to-

Vipsania: I did not! I was too busy holding on for my dear life!

Androcles: My driving was perfect, Sickle! Nobody died!

Felix: Fine.😞 Let’s just get out, meet our Tributes, and tell them about ✨Operation Felix✨-

Clemensia: For the last time, Class Pres, we are not calling your brilliant plan to stop the Hunger Games “Operation Felix.”🙄💅

Felix: But-

Vipsania: I agree. “Operation Felix” sounds lame. Instead, let’s call it ✨Operation Hunger No More✨-

Everyone: No.

Vipsania: Ugh! Fine. Let’s call it Operation Freedom-

Felix: No. My granduncle is allergic to that “F” word.

Vipsania: He’s allergic to freedom?!

Felix: He’s also allergic to rebels and mole people.

Vipsania: What the heck are mole people?!

Felix: People who secretly hide inside underground bunkers without telling the government about their existence or location.

Sejanus: Like those mole people living in District 13!

Vipsania: Don’t say that word!

Sejanus: District 13.😀

Felix: District 13? What’s that? Is that a new animal? Is it edible? Can we cook District 13?

Vipsania: Yup. Felix is in his “trauma” zone again.😔

Sejanus: But District 13 still exist!

Clemensia: We know! Everyone in our little circle knows! That’s why we are pretending that it doesn’t exist!

Sejanus: But why though?

Coryo: To protect House Ravinstill and their sacred Bichon Frisé puppies.

Sejanus: That’s all?!

Coryo: Pretty much. I mean, look at poor Felix. He’s crying again.

Felix: Is District 13 a ham?!😭

Sejanus: Fine! District 13 doesn’t exist. Now give me another kiss, my love!😍

Coryo: Sure. Come here-

Clemensia: We’re still not calling it Operation Felix though.

Coryo: Can we just change the name later? Sejanus and I are in a hurry to-

Lysistrata: Make out and f*ck?

Coryo: No, not yet. We’re doing that later.

Sejanus: We can also do it here, my love!😘

Clemensia: Ew. No. Not in front of my eyes, you fool!

Coryo: Later, Babe. At your place.

Sejanus: At my place?! Oh, my love, I’m so excited!😍

Coryo: Yeah. But for now, let’s go talk to Marcus Spartacus and Lucy Goosey.

Androcles: Yo, Sej-

Sejanus: What?

Androcles: Get off. You’re squeezing me to death.

Sejanus: Sh*t. I totally forgot about you, Andie. Sorry.😞

Festus: Lol. The power of love almost killed Anderson.

Androcles: Creed, shut up.

[katherinewinchester13]

Here's a toast to my real friends

They don't care about the he-said, she-said

And here's to my baby

He ain't reading what they call me lately

And here's to my mama

Had to listen to all this drama

And here's to you

'Cause forgiveness is a nice thing to do

Haha, I can't even say it with a straight face

This is why we can't have nice things, darling (Darling)

Because you break them

I had to take them away

This is why we can't have nice (Uh-uh) things (Oh no), honey (Baby, oh)

Did you think I wouldn't hear all the things you said about me?

This is why we can't have nice things, darling

(And here's to my real friends)

Because you break them

I had to take them

(And here's to my baby)

Nice things, honey

(They didn't care about that he-said, she-said)

Did you think I wouldn't hear all the things you said about me?

This is why we can't have nice things

★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰ ★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰★∻∹⋰⋰

🔒archiveofourown.org/works/50875930

★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰ ★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰★∻∹⋰⋰

★★★★✩

° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ °° ∆ -------- ••• ------

Complete 💯

Words: 4,062

╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲╱╲

✨SHIPS✨🖤

Eventual

Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz

RelationshipSeparated

Shannon Diaz/Eddie Diaz

╲╱❀╲╱╲╱❀╲╱╲╱❀╲╱╲╱❀╲╱╲╱❀╲╱╲╱

DESCRIPTION

There's gotta be more to life

BY: a_clockwork_of_scars (ScarsLikeVelvet)

Shannon accuses Eddie of cheating in the divorce proceedings. Things don't go the way she expected though.

▅▄▃▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▂▃▄▅

[i23kazu]

07 : EXTRAS I

MADE TO BE MINE – A SCARA X READER SMAU 🎥

synopsis !

with all the drama that happened ( that he caused ) and all the things you lost ( that he lost ), you promised yourself that you'd leave everything in the past... so why is the famous youtuber with two million subscribers, music major and ex lover kuni, suddenly back in your life? why is he now back, intruding into your long-anticipated campaign with RAIDENTERTAINMENT? and why is yae telling you that he’ll be doing it with you?

notes & facts !

timestamps don't matter here

get it... yoimama... yo mama.... haha... ha..

childe is despo at this point :""

to be read after finishing act 1!

taglist !

@zuyoo @niiheng @soleillunne @xiaosonlybeloved @achlysis @gekkow @lxkeeeee @ilyuu @miko1ly @mondaymelon @snobwaffles @juulica @raingoesboomboom @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @coquettemaiden @sakiimeo @kyouzki @supernova25 @ynverse @thenightsflower @darthvada @danhenglovebot @nnasv @sammybeefangirls @reikofruitloops @yukiipc @vxcmx @be0m9yu

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[ineffablyrandom]

March Highlights:

• Unang week ng March nalasing. HAHAHAHA. Di na daw ako mabuhat ng pinsan ko tsaka ng kapatid ko kaya binaba muna nila ako tapos humiga daw ako sa kalsada. Wala na kong natandaan 🤣 balak ko lang sana maki karaoke. Tapos nalasing hahahahahaha.

• Watched Captain America: Brave New World with my siblings 🫶.

• Had our team lunch at Manam's.

• Na-broken hearted yung kambal ko. Nakipag break yung girlfriend niya sa kaniya. And reason - "Baka para sa lalaki talaga ako." Anyway, dahil don nag aya bigla magpa-tattoo yung kapatid ko - twin tattoo, sa kaniya yung "No Matter What" sa dibdib niya nilagay. Sakin yung "No Matter Where" sa tagiliran ko nilagay. My second tattoo.

• After namin magpa-tattoo nag aya bigla yung kambal ko sa Antipolo. Kaya sponty nakapag Antipolo kame hahahahaha. Sinundo namin best friend ko (Kaye) then dumeretso kami sa Kaulayaw coffee shop. 10/10 ⭐️ Good ambiance. Instagramable. Good service. Masarap food. Masarap din coffee. Masarap yung Coconut Latte nila. Tapos syempre inarte (photog) kame don hahahahaha.

• 59th birthday ni mama! ❤️❤️❤️

•Pina groom si Qielli 🫶

• Nag punta kami sa Evia para lang bumili ng Seafood boil dahil last last month pa ako nag crave don (kahit allergic ako). Bumili ako ng gamot. Uminom ng gamot. Tapos nag mukbang HAHAHAHA iniisip ko pa kung ipo-post ko yung mukbang 🤣

• Nadapa na naman ako. Hahahahahaha. Natapilok kase ako tapos bumagsak ako sa putikan. Sabi ko nga every month ata may entry ako sa category na LAMPA. Nadapa din ako sa Zambales last month 🤣. Tapos sabi nung pinsan ko saken "pinanganak ka ba para maging lampa?" Pero anyway, ang panget na ng tuhod ko dahil sa peklat.

• Had to do Laboratory tests ( X-Ray, ECG, Echo, and Blood Chem etc.) kase lately napapansin ko na palaging nangangalay braso/kamay ko tapos parang namamanhid tapos minsan sinasabayan na parang may pressure sa heart ko or parang may nag squeeze. Hindi naman constant. Pero nakaka alarm pa din so I did necessary tests para lang ma-make sure na normal lahat.

• Last is Mavis' birthday!! 🫶❤️

• When Life Gives You Tangerines - I finished it. And it finished me. HAHAHAHAHA. Pero seryoso dagdag na siya sa mga all time fave ko na korean drama (Reply 1988, Hotel Luna, Goblin, and Scarlet Heart). Grabe yung iyak ko dito. Mula volume 1 hanggang volume 4. Maga lagi mata ko every Friday, pero worth it. Somewhat relatable. Lalo sa mga eldest daughter. Wala na ko iba masabi. All in all 100/10 ⭐️. Panoorin niyo din HAHAHAHA.

Dami pala ganap nang March. Sana maka survive nang April ✨