#CRYSTAL CASTLES group

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

A NEARLY TWENTY-YEAR-OLD GIG THIS MONTH -- DOING THE ROUNDS IN THE UK.

PIC INFO: Spotlight on live shots of singer Alice Glass of electronic music duo CRYSTAL CASTLES, their second show, c. January 2006 in Glasgow, Scotland. 📸: Lies Records.

Source: www.flickr.com/photos/liesrecords/2169885570.

[sl-ut]

princess of the north

in case i dont end up posting again over the holidays, i just wanna say i hope everyone has a great holiday season and a very very happy new year!!!!

pairing: cregan stark x fem!targtower!pregnant!reader

description: cregan has grown older and happier throughout his years as warden of the north with his beautiful new wife at his side. however, when he married into the royal family, he had not considered how frequently he would need to interact with his in-laws. 

warnings: NO DANCE AU!!! (rhaenyra ascends the throne peacefully), weird blend of book and show timeline, slight description of character (silver hair, purple eyes, that’s it!!!), smut, reader gets pregnant like halfway through, pregnancy sex, oral, piv, SEX IN FRONT OF A FIREPLACE ON A BEARSKIN RUGGGG oml

words: 9.7K

date posted: 10/12/24

part two

The winter had been very forgiving, thank the gods. It had been remarkably short, just under eight years in total, meaning that it had come to a close with plenty of food still in storage and northerners who were more than willing and able to transition into the oncoming summer with ease. 

Winterfell was left in a generally stable state, aside from the fact that there was a greater need for livestock now that they not only had an additional mouth to feed, but also a fully grown dragon who resided in a make-shift dragonpit only a few minutes ride beyond the walls of the castle–a wedding gift that the Lord of Winterfell had prepared in anticipation of his new wife’s arrival. Otherwise, the North seemed to be in greater shape upon the dawn of this new summer than it had in all of Cregan’s years. 

The greatest of Cregan’s accomplishments, of course, was his new wife. At the beginning of the winter, he had not expected that he would be married by the end of it, but with the arrival of Prince Jaeaerys on his official tour of the realm also came his proposal of marriage between Lord Cregan and his own aunt, the youngest daughter of the late King Viserys I and his second wife, Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower. He had been hesitant to consider this offer–he’d never met the woman, which was not uncommon for marriages of such high status, but he’d been fortunate enough to have been able to form some sort of friendship with his late wife prior to their union. Jace had brought along with him the terms offered by his mother, in her own hand, of course, as well as a portrait of the woman in question. 

Cregan was not above admitting how taken he’d been with the sight of the princess, even if it were only a recreation of her beauty on canvas. He’d heard of her beauty before, it was rumoured around the realm, but seeing it was entirely different, a sort of beauty he could not have imagined on his own.

“Tell me, my prince,” Cregan asked him, hardly drawing his crystal blue gaze away from the portrait, “you are her blood and have grown up with the princess, is this painting to her likeness?”

Jacaerys smirked, “Of course, Lord Stark. My aunt is known to be one of the most beautiful women ever to live.”

Cregan pursed his lips. He was aware of the strange customs of the Targaryens, having married brother to sister and uncle to niece for generations. Jacaerys could be speaking the truth, for he himself could hold some sort of affection for his aunt, but Cregan did not suspect as such. Intead, his greater question was whether Jacaerys could be lying to him out of political gain; as his mother’s envoy, it would do him no good to suggest that the artist had not accurately painted her. Her looks were of no concern to him, but he valued honour and truth over all else. If they were attempting to attract him to the deal by portraying the princess as such a beauty over anything else, he would be personally insulted to discover that he’d been lied to, a snub from the royal family would not be taken kindly by House Stark. 

“What say you?” Cregan turned to the group of men standing just to the left of the prince, all who seemed alarmed at Lord Stark’s attention being turned to them, “How do each of you vouch for the princess?”

The men, one at a time, attested to the princess’s beauty until he stood before the smallest and visibly youngest of the men.

“And you, lad?” 

“I’m afraid the portrait fails to depict the princess, milord,” The boy grew rosy in the cheeks as he imagined the princess in his mind, eyes drawing towards the portrait, “That is her, yes, but only as close as the Master Holbein could have made it, for I do not think it possible to recreate such beauty. She is gifted by the gods, surely, milord, both in beauty and manner. She is kind, brings food and toys to orphans in Flea Bottom and ev’rything, milord.”

Cregan, taken aback by the answer from the youngest boy, turned back to Prince Jacaerys, who seemed equally as surprised as he did pleased with the answers of his men.

“This is true, milord,” Jace said, “the princess is known among the people for her generosity, among her other talents and traits. It cannot be denied that her mother, the Queen Dowager, was not fond of my family, nor us of her, but the princess was raised better than any of us, I would say. Take the night to think on it, I would hope to send word to the queen before I leave Winterfell at noon.”

Cregan did as instructed, thinking on it long and hard. Her beauty had been their main selling point, something that could not be denied from the portrait sent of her. Lord Stark had half a mind to hang it upon the mantle in his bedchambers whether he takes her to wife or not, but it was not her beauty that had truly swayed his decision. Instead, he thought over the young lad’s words; a southern lady scarcely thrives in the North, a nation nearly as large on its own as all of the remaining six kingdoms put together. The weather was harsh, and the people were harsher, something he could not imagine a Targaryen princess handling well. However, he’d heard of Alicent Hightower’s assertiveness and ability to lead while her husband was incapable and Rhaenyra was in Dragonstone. If what Jacaerys had told him was true, the princess would be dutiful and loyal, and according to the prince’s men, kind beyond words. Beauty may have factored into his decision on a personal level, but he also met the prince the next morning with his acceptance mostly on the basis that he believed that the princess would be wholly capable of helping him rule the North.

He wrote to her a week after Jacaerys departed from Winterfell, certain that the news would have already arrived in the capitol and she would already be aware of their arrangement. He would have little time between her arrival in the north and their wedding to meet with her in private, so this was his best hope. He was pleased to receive a raven in return only three days later, neat handwriting befitting a princess scrawled across the parchment. It was not much, but Cregan was able to learn some things about her through the letters, making it seem like he was less-so marrying a stranger and more as if she were a distant friend. 

The month following, the princess would depart from King’s Landing in a procession he was told seemed a mile long. He waited with anticipation, Winterfell in a flurry of servants and guards to prepare the castle to house the royal family and their household, as well as for the wedding itself, and only one more month would pass before his bride had arrived within the walls of Winterfell.

Cregan had bowed respectfully to the Queen Dowager as she stepped out of her wheelhouse, then to the two silver-haired princes who arrived on their steeds. His eyes scanned the growing crowd for any sight of his betrothed, finally catching sight of her as she took the hand of a Dornish white cloak to balance herself as she exited the wheelhouse, a pretty white fur-lined cloak wrapped around her shoulders, almost blending into the pale blonde of her hair. She was, indeed, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had traditional Valyrian looks, but also held an aura of softness. 

She was nervous as she curtsied before her, but seemed happy enough with his appearance and manners as he greeted her with a kiss to her leather-gloved knuckle. The moment was broken apart by her mother’s level tone, requesting to be brought to her chambers for some rest before supper. That evening Cregan found the portrait of the princess that he’d received months earlier and personally hung it above the mantle in his bedchambers. He thought it was safe to say he was smitten.

The princess appeared bashful in his presence, though he was partially certain that her discomfort was brought on by her ever-present family, each looming nearby as if waiting to intercept his attempts of conversation with his betrothed. He could not decide who he had grown to loathe the most; Aegon had already drank a generous portion of Winterfell’s wine cellars even before the wedding, and often joined the conversation with the goal to tease his sister and see her shrink in embarrassment; Aemond was constantly looking to best anyone in his path, and seemed almost possessive over his sister’s attention; her mother had hardly allowed them a moment alone, constantly insisting on supervising any time that he would invite her for any sort of activity, or set one of her brothers after them instead. Alicent had a habit of speaking for her daughter, meaning that Cregan had no opportunity to truly know her while her mother was present, while her brothers made it impossible to even speak to one another at all. 

He was finally glad on their wedding night, when he’d arranged the head table to be broken into three, leaving the happy couple to sit above the rest and finally receive some alone time. She had been radiant in her gown of white furs and fleeces, meeting him beneath the weirwood tree with her eldest brother at her side to give her away. He’d been glad to tear away the cloak of red and black, intricately interwoven into a field of green and gold at the bottom–it would be unlike Alicent Hightower to allow her children to wear the Rhaenyra’s colours without her own as well. It would be hard to tell whether she looked prettier in the harsh colours of her maiden cloak or in the dull ones of his own, but he couldn’t help but note how greys and blues suited her better than he could have imagined. 

He could tell her family was less than pleased with this arrangement, making an effort to step in for every miniscule matter that caught their attention. Cregan watched her from the corner of her eye as she shakily took a long drink from her cup. He finally found time to chat with his wife, slowly watching in awe as her walls slowly began to come down as she found herself giggling along with him and whispering into his ear. 

“What of the leftovers?” She’d asked, breaking their previous conversation topic.

“Leftovers?” Cregan repeated.

She nodded, staring at him with wide eyes expectantly, “The food. There will be plenty of leftovers–they should be brought to the nearest towns.”

“Is that a command, princess?” 

She appeared bashful at his response, walls slowly building back up around her, “I-I- My apologies, Lord Stark, I–”

He grinned at her playfully, his large palm cupping her cheek affectionately, “If you wish it, you shall have it. I intend to make you very happy, my love.”

She smiled, her beauty shining through even stronger as she became more and more comfortable around him, “Thank you, husband.”

Cregan pushed himself to stand, the sound of his chair pushing back cutting through the chatter and music and laughter filling his hall, all eyes turning to him expectantly. 

“My lady wife has made her first official command as Lady of Winterfell,” his voice carried through the hall with stern ease, and the attention of the crows quickly turned to her, “Lady Stark has decided that all leftovers from our wedding feast will be donated to the people of Winterstown.”

The crowd had been quick to applaud, deafening cheers throughout the great hall, northerners seemingly pleased with her decision or, at the very least, just excited to have another reason to be celebrating. He caught the glance she sent to her mother, and the happy grin that covered her face as the Dowager Queen sent her a sign of approval. His lady wife was kind, and sweet, and he was certain that, once she gained her footing in the North, would serve as a strong and dutiful Lady of Winterfell, all of which he muttered into her ear as he had her for the very first time that night. 

Three years would pass, he’d been right to assume such things of his wife. He’d quickly discovered that she was able to thrive without the looming shadow of her mother and brothers. She had been slow to find her footing in the beginning, some of his bannermen even questioning his choice in wife, but she was determined to prove them wrong, and in doing so, warmed Cregan’s heart even more. 

They’d discussed children in the past, and both had decided that they were happy enough with Cregan’s son from his previous marriage for the time being. They were not trying, but they were also not not trying, which is how she found herself swelling with her first child just as winter came to an end. Her husband had been insatiable in their first year of marriage, but once he knew that she carried his child in her belly, there was scarcely anything that could stop him from having her each and every night. 

Summer brought a homier feeling to Winterfell. People were not quite so afraid or negative as the desolate conditions faded away. Summer in the North was nothing compared to the many summers she had spent in King’s Landing, where she had once enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her skin, exposed beneath her more revealing gowns than those she was able to wear in the North; the lords of the North had criticised her choice in dresses early on in her marriage, and she had no doubt that their wives spoke harshly about her in her absence. She was by far the youngest of them, and was also the only one who could afford to wear such fine silks layered over her thick fleece and fur underdresses. Cregan knew better than to try and argue against his wife’s will–Lady Stark or not, she was a Targaryen princess through and through, and now that he had helped her build up her confidence, there was no way he was about to take that away from her (especially when she looked so so beautiful). She was thankful that she was able to cut down on the layers she needed now that the weather had transitioned from inhospitable to frigid, though she knew it was coming time to transition her wardrobe as well now that her breasts and belly were beginning to swell. 

The change in season also brought a wave of new duties. Winter was undoubtedly the most difficult and busy season for the lord and lady of Winterfell, but the transition to summer also brought the beginning of the agricultural season. Farmers and fishermen alike flocked to Winterfell to speak their needs and wants to their liege lord and lady, and Cregan found himself busy with attending to the replenishment of all of the North’s resources for Winterfell, all of his bannermen, the Wall, and all of the towns in the North. He’d made his wife agree to take a lesser load of duties now that she was expecting, dealing with issues within their own household so he could instead focus on bearing the burdens of the North all on his own, though this meant there was less and less time that they were able to spend together. 

Each morning, Lady Stark was awake and on the move early enough to meet with the maester and stewards and advisors, sharing no more than a few sweet words and touches with her husband as he watched her dress before she was out the door. They would see each other in passing throughout the day, sharing loving glances across the courtyard as they attended their duties and occasionally catching each other in the corridors, and she was normally in a deep slumber by the time he came to her chambers every night. Both of them were growing restless in their time apart, especially with her ladyship’s heightened emotions and hormones. 

She had just finished speaking with the mistress of the orphanage in Winterstown when the maester came to her, a neatly folded piece of parchment in hand that bore her mother’s seal. She smiled to herself as she brushed her thumb over the thick spot of green wax, glad to have a response for her most recent letter to her mother to deliver the news of her pregnancy, along with a request for some new silks to be sent in order to accommodate her changing body. Breaking the seal, she scanned over the letter with her eyes, a small gasp leaving her mouth as she read over her mother’s words.

“My lady?” Maester Elryn asked, concern evident on his wrinkled features, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” she smiled tightly at him, “My apologies for my reaction. Could you ask Lord Stark to come to me when he is free?”

“Of course, my lady. Anything else?”

“That is all, thank you, Maester Elryn.”

Cregan came to her two hours later, finding her seated at the small desk in the corner of her chambers. He paused to drink in the way she looked, having scarcely seen his wife for more than a moment all day. Her body was changing in the most glorious ways possible, and the bodices of her gowns were growing even tighter than before, her breasts threatening to spill over the neckline with every breath, and her belly growing firmer and rounder to accommodate his child. His smile widened as she turned to glance over her shoulder, her eyes softening as she finally took note of her husband’s figure in the doorway.

“You called, wife?”

“My love,” she greeted, pushing herself to stand with a gentle hand cradling her barely-there bump, “It seems it has been forever.”

His heart thumped against his ribcage at her action, chest growing warm at the sight of her maternal instincts already kicking in before she had even passed through her first few months 

He closed the door behind him, crossing the room to meet her before she was able to move too far. His palm cupped her cheek, the other finding its place over her own against her belly, “Longer than forever to me.”

She grinned, leaning up to press a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips, giggling to herself as he chased after her and grunted as she pulled away. He pressed small kisses to her cheeks, across the curve of her jaw, and down the column of her neck, leaving small nips in his wake. His wife pushed at his chest helplessly as she continued to laugh, the soft growth of hair along his own jaw tickling her with every brush of his lips on her skin. 

“I called you up here because I needed to speak with you,” she whispered to him, body slowly relaxing against him as she sank into his embrace.

“Speak, then,” he ordered, thick fingers tugging at the laces of her dress.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes at his antics, “I wrote to my mother a few nights ago, I need silk for new dresses. I’m sure you’ve noticed that my own are growing rather…tight.”

His mouth dropped to nip at the bulging flesh of her breast peeking over the neckline of her gown, “I certainly have.”

Her head tilted back, letting both a laugh and a breathy moan at her husband’s attack on her chest as he quickly laid her back on the bed, “She has written back to me. She says I shall have as much silk in as many colours as I wish.”

Cregan hummed in response, quickly peeling the layers of her gown away until she was left in only her thin white shift, her words going ignored as he tugged and pulled at her clothing until she was bare before him. He stared down at her, running his hand over his jaw as his eyes trailed over her breasts, heaving and swelling with milk, then down over her small bump, and finally to the place where her thighs clenched together. 

She pushed herself up to sit before him, her own hands reaching out to tug at his clothing. He was quick to help her, shucking off his layers and boots until he stood before her in only his heavy leather breeches. His wife grinned up at him, pressing a gentle kiss against his own belly, a layer of soft flesh over his firm, almost inconspicuous muscle. 

He pushed at her shoulder, chuckling as the mattress bounced beneath her as she was laid back again. He crawled over her, returning to mouthing over her neck, over her shoulders, and finally coming across her breasts.

“She says she will deliver them personally,” she uttered, whining in protest as he paused, pulling back to focus directly at her face. 

“Personally,” He repeated, more for his own sake than a question of clarification, “your mother intends to come to Winterfell.”

She pouted at him, fingers carding through his long hair as she attempted to soften him to the news, “She wishes to be here for the birth. I know she can be…difficult, but it would bring me comfort to have her with me as I bring our firstborn into the world.”

He sighed, his head falling into her shoulder, “If this is what you wish, then this is what you shall have. 

She smiled, remembering when he spoke the same words to her on their wedding night. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, winding her legs around his hips and hugging her tightly to her chest. 

“Thank you,” she smiled at him as he finally pushed himself up to gaze down at her once again, “my mother can be difficult, as I said, but I wish for her to know her grandchildren, as she does my niece and nephews. I promise you, she will be on her best behaviour.”

“I believe you,” He pressed a kiss to her lips, mumbling against her, “but I must ask that we do not speak any more of your mother at the present. I do not think she would appreciate what I plan to do to you.”

Cregan did not allow her another moment of peace before his kisses grew in intensity, tongue intertwining with her own while his meaty palms pulled her legs further apart and began to rock his hips into hers. He smirked at the whine that escaped her throat, pressing himself further into her.

“Cregan–” 

“I have missed you, my love,” he moaned against her lips, “you cannot possibly believe how much I have been longing for you.”

She chuckled, “I think I can. The maester told me pregnancy can bring on many side effects; discomfort, fatigue, desire…”

Cregan pulled back for a moment, “Should I be concerned about these conversations you have been having with Maester Elryn?”

She scoffed, “You are far too jealous for your own good, my love.”

“You might be too, if you were married to the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms–nay, the world.”

“Flatterer.”

“Can it be called flattery if it is the truth?” Cregan pushed himself to kneel between her legs, palms continuing to push her thighs upward to bare her completely to him. He let out a desperate groan as his eyes settled on her core, barely hidden beneath a neat patch of silver hair, “gods, have you ever been this wet?”

She snorted, raising her leg to press her foot flat to his chest, “It is the pregnancy, as I said.”

His long fingers wrapped around her foot, tugging it up to press his lips against the slope of her ankle, “Then perhaps I should keep you like this, eh? Would you like for your lord husband to fill you with his child, again and again?”

“I am already with child, my love,” she smiled at him, drawing a deep breath from his throat, “I’m afraid you will have to wait a few moons longer.”

“And I will spend every second I have with you perfecting the craft then.”

She sighed in relief as he finally reached between her thighs, fingers catching against her slick hole.

“Cregan, please,” she whimpered, “do something, anything.”

“Anything?” He asked, breathlessly, his own chest heaving in anticipation as she nodded excitedly. 

A loud gasp tore from her lips as he finally sunk his fingers into her, her wetness audible to them both as he began moving with slow but purposeful thrusts. His thumb settled on her sensitive bud, making slow, tight circles over the swollen bud, his free hand gliding up from her thigh to tug at her breasts. Her hips rocked in sync with his every movement of his thick fingers, stilling as another one easily slipped inside.

“My love,” she panted, “e-enough, I need you.”

He quirked one of his thick brows at her words, “Should I not prepare you, my heart?”

“I am pregnant with your child, and as we can both tell, I am more than prepared.”

Cregan snorted out a laugh, withdrawing his fingers with a small whine from his wife, “How should you have me then, wife?”

Lady Stark smirked to herself, legs wrapping around his back and forcing him to fold over her, “Take me as you did on our wedding night, only you do not need to be so gentle with me.”

He slipped inside of her easily, a strained hiss sliding between his teeth while her own teeth sunk into his shoulder. Cregan did indeed take her like he had on their wedding night, but against her wishes, was almost as gentle as he had been, out of respect for his child’s personal space, as he had muttered to her. In truth, he simply wanted to take his time with her as he pulled her apart bit by bit, not wanting to rush their first time lying together in the few weeks since summer had come. 

When they were finished, he remained inside of her for as long as he could, but the warmth of her and the air around them was far too much. His wife, despite the progress she’d made in the years of their marriage, was a southern woman and despised how frigid the castle could be, earning herself the warmest room in Winterfell and a required constant upkeep of her hearth. Cregan did not mind coming to his wife’s chamber when she needed him throughout the day or early evening, but there was a reason that they’d made a habit of sleeping in his personal chambers each night, where the air was cooler but he was able to keep her warm at night. He carefully pulled away, meeting her for a final kiss before he peeled himself off of the bed, slowly strutting across the room to haul the window open and feel the cool summer air against his burning flesh. 

She watched him through hooded eyes, gaze raking down his muscular back, over his plump ass, and down his thick legs. She pursed her lips, pulling one of the heavy furs around her shoulders as she padded across the stone floor to wrap herself around him from behind, fingers hooking together around his belly as her bare chest pressed to his back. After a moment, one of his hands came over to cover her own as she pressed her lips to his shoulder blade. 

“My mother wrote that she expects to be here in two moons,” she murmured against his warm skin, “I should begin preparations for them on the morrow.”

Cregan hummed, eyes scanning over the horizon for a moment before he comprehended her words, “Them. How many attendants does she plan to bring with her?”

He felt his wife tense behind him, “About that…”

Two moons later Cregan found himself standing tall in his own courtyard, jaw set as a procession of horses and wheelhouses began to file through the front gate of his ancestral home. He’d been a touch angry with his wife when she had finally revealed to him that it was not only her mother coming, but rather the entire royal family; the queen, her king consort, and all of their children; the dowager queen, the remaining four of her children, as well as Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena’s three children. Winterfell was about to be overrun with heads of silver hair, something Cregan had hoped would only happen as a result of his wife’s genes overcoming his own among their children. 

At his side, his wife nervously chewed her bottom lip–a nasty habit he’d grown to detest after she’d drawn blood one night. He knew exactly how her family could be from their short stay during their wedding festivities, and the way that her mother and two older brothers alone were able to affect her, let alone the entire living Targaryen dynasty. 

On her other side stood young Rickon, gripping her hand tightly as he struggled to compose himself. The boy was only six years old, but he already seemed to understand the importance of his role as the heir to Winterfell. He’d taken to his stepmother rather quickly, having been an infant when the fever took his own mother. He’d been in need of a maternal figure in his life, and her presence in Winterfell had done nothing but draw father and son closer together with every family supper and breakfast she had insisted on over the years. Seeing her welcome his son into her heart so openly only further pressed Cregan’s instincts to bring their own children into the world, wishing for nothing more than to give his boy dozens of siblings for him to play with. 

The procession finally came to a halt just as two large, intricately carved wheelhouses entered the gates, flanked by the king consort and all of the elder princes on their horses. Lady Stark’s nerves only heightened at the sight of the silver-haired men, particularly her elder brothers who almost immediately turned their gaze her way. The queen soon climbed out of her wheelhouse, followed by her own litter of children, Aegon, Viserys, and Visenya. The second wheelhouse opened, producing Dowager Queen Alicent and Princess Helaena and her own children Jahaera, Jahaerys, and Maegor. 

The queen came before them, regal as ever in her red cloak lined with black fur. She watched stoically as the three bowed before her. 

“The North is yours, Your Grace,” Cregan spoke loud and true, “my family and I are honoured to host you and your family in Winterfell.”

“Many thanks, Lord Stark. I commend you on leading the North through yet another winter,” a smirk tugged at her lips as her eyes turned to his wife, who lowered into another curtsy under her stare, “I hear that Lady Stark has taken to her role quite well. I believe motherhood suits you, sister.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Lady Stark nodded in thanks. 

The next line of Targaryens filtered through the short lineup of Starks, first Daemon, who scarcely offered any of them a second glance (aside from his niece, who he stared at for a moment too long in Cregan’s opinion). Prince Jacaerys greeted Cregan like an old friend, clapping him on the shoulder heartily while he offered his aunt a polite hug, his younger brothers following, though with less familiarity. 

Then came her mother, who hardly offered Lord Stark a moment of her time before she began fawning over her daughter, hugging her tightly before pulling away and pawing at her swollen belly through her layers of fur. A tear escaped the red-haired woman’s eye as she pressed a sweet kiss to Lady Stark’s cheek, then offered a greeting to sweet Rickon, who had shuffled closer to his stepmother in his nervousness. Aegon skipped over Lord Stark altogether, though he certainly was not complaining as he could smell the stench of wine radiating from the eldest prince even before noon, throwing himself onto his sister. She’d stumbled in her attempt to catch him, sending her husband a warning glance as he moved to rip him away from her. Aemond, at least, was more courteous, offering Cregan a polite greeting and kissing his sister gently on the forehead. Helaena was soon to follow, her greeting to Cregan leaving him with a puzzled look as she moved on to place her palm to her sister’s cheek.

“I am so happy to see you, sister,” Lady Stark’s eyes welled with tears. Cregan had been aware of how disappointed his wife had been when her sister had not been able to travel with her for their wedding, but she had not blamed her for choosing to stay behind while she was in her sixth moon of pregnancy, not to mention the poor state of her mind.

Daeron was the most reserved of his good-siblings, showing both Lord and Lady Stark his respect, though he had no personal relation with either. He’d spent most of his childhood in Oldtown under the care of his grandsire’s brother, the Lord of Oldtown, and his own uncle Gwayne. He’d been rather hesitant to even return to King’s Landing after being away for so long; his own mother was a mere stranger, and his siblings had gone on to marry and produce their own children without even a second thought of their youngest brother. 

Winterfell’s hall was overflowing with Targaryens and those who served them. Cregan could hardly recognize any of the faces at the tables nearest to his own, his men being pushed farther back into the hall to accommodate the royal family. He, himself, had even been pushed one seat to the right to offer the queen the highest seat in the hall. He was not pleased to be doing this, far too used to southerners coming to the North with such entitlement, but he would take the treatment silently for the sake of his dear wife, who had been so excited for the arrival of her family and had been overtaken by anxiety of ensuring the visit went well. 

She sat next to him, dressed in a fine silk gown (new, a design brought by her mother), a deep emerald with golden stitching across the bodice and around the cuffs. Cregan hissed through his teeth when his wife entered the hall, a happy grin on her lips as she cradled her round belly over the dress of her mother’s house rather than her own, though he was eager to greet her and accept her gleeful kiss on the cheek, and he was glad enough to see that her hair had been braided among the stems of various flowers, all of which being indigenous only to the North. Her mother could try with all of her might to try and hold tight to her daughter’s familial tether to the South, but Cregan knew his wife had transformed into a woman of the North–she was no longer simply a Targaryen princess, a dragonrider, she was also his wife, Lady of Winterfell, and mother of his children. 

It never escaped Cregan’s watchful stare everytime the Dowager Queen gripped her daughter’s arm when her attention was not focused solely on her, or how she forced a smile each time he joined their conversation at all. If the woman had not been his wife’s mother, he would have gladly warded her away from his wife’s personal space. He understood well enough that his wife was bound to miss her family, especially her mother and sister, but he was afraid to see her begin to slip back into her shell, which had taken him a considerable amount of effort and care to bring her out from in the first place. 

He was quickly tiring from the responsibility of hosting an entire flock of Targaryen princes, all of whom considered themselves above the northerners and their laws, customs, and expectations. They most often gathered in the training yards, each more eager to prove themselves over the northerners and each other than the last, except for Aegon, of course, who would rather spend the mornings in his chambers before he would disappear into Wintertown, most likely gone to spend the rest of the afternoon in the only brothel within twenty miles of Winterfell. 

Throughout the two weeks to follow, they had barely found a moment to themselves that was not in the early hours of the morn or when the castle is alight with only the light emitted from torches and the moon itself, where Lady Stark was usually so worn out that she had barely enough energy to cuddle into her husband’s side and share a handful of words before her snoring would reach his ears. He made an effort to seek her out when he was granted a brief moment away from his duties, but there was hardly a moment when she could be found without at least one member of her kin at her side; in the nursery with her mother and sister, discussing her duties with the queen, reading with Aemond in the library, or comforting Aegon amidst another bout of alcohol-induced sickness. 

The one moment he did find her alone in her personal study, not wasting a single moment before he was hoisting her into his arms and kissing her breathless. He’d been pleased to find that she had no fight in her, easily melting into his embrace and winding her arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss as small mewls of pleasure vibrated against his mouth. He’d almost forgotten that the door to the study had been left ajar, making his good-mother’s entrance even more silent, though he likely wouldn’t have noticed even if she had knocked, fully taken with his wife’s affection. 

“Ehem.”

“Mother,” Lady Stark pushed away from her husband, face still with shock and, quite evidently, embarrassment, “I, we did not hear you come in.”

“Yes, as I could see.”

“My apologies, Your Grace,” Cregan nodded to the woman, though his tone was laced with his annoyance, “I’m afraid you’ve been subjected to a moment of weakness.”

“Nonsense,” Alicent’s lips tightened into a strained smile, a touch of tenderness on her face, “it comforts me to know that my daughter is cherished and loved, even so far away. We are not all so lucky to find love in these circumstances.”

His wife rounded the desk, meeting her mother with a tight embrace. For a moment, he felt a pang of sympathy for the red haired woman–it was true, most marriages of such caliber did not afford the couple any form of affection, and he was more than aware of the fortune that had fallen into his lap that day that Prince Jacaerys landed at his gate. The moment came to a crashing end all-too-soon as his good-mother once again dragged his wife away from him, not to be seen again until she was deep asleep in their shared bed.

He’d arranged for a hunt during the visit of the royal family, where he was forced to play the peacekeeper between the queen’s sons and their uncles, all while keeping his eyes peeled for the prize he’d been hoping for; his wife had mentioned more than once that she wanted to find the perfect blanket to gift to their first child, one that can be used again and again with each babe they brought into the world, so it seemed only fitting to him that he be the one to bring her the pelt. 

It would be weeks before the warmth in his chest subsided after witnessing her grin and laughter as he presented it to her, two rabbits of a similar white and brown pattern, drawing her away from the large elk that had been brought in for their supper that night. It was a brief moment of privacy amongst the crowd, where she curled her fingers beneath the neckline of his leather doublet and dragged him down to her height, pushing a soft kiss to his wind-bitten cheek, though he was thankful for every moment of it. Her mother stepped in a moment later, grasping her daughter’s hand and willing her to join her in the nursery, where she could continue to preach her wisdom and advice for the soon-to-be mother, though Cregan hoped his wife was smart enough to take it with a grain of salt. 

He’d spent the rest of the day both tending to his duties, which have seemingly doubled since the arrival of his wife’s kin, and also offering a hand in preparing the elk when he had a chance; his cooks could do wonders with elk meat, but the kitchen maids often made a fuss when such large animals were brought to whole or at least without being skinned first. He had barely even spared a moment to clean himself and change clothes before supper.

When he arrived in the dining hall, a smaller yet more formal area where he hoped he, his wife, and their many children would all dine together whenever they could. He was, however, miffed to discover the dining hall filled with princes and princesses and queens alike, only two seats left empty–his own, and his wife’s. 

His immediate thought was that perhaps she was still readying herself, perhaps she had gotten carried away in the nursery with her mother, and she would be there soon enough. Then, his eyes fell upon the red-haired woman a few seats from his own. 

He cleared his throat, drawing silence across his hall, “My apologies, I expect Lady Stark in only a moment.”

Alicent furrowed her brow, directing her words to the rest of the royal family rather than to Lord Stark, “I’m afraid she will not be joining us tonight.”

Cregan raised his own brow, “Why not?”

Alicent’s gaze flickered to his own, “She was unwell this evening–a pain many women know while carrying their children, all she needs is rest.”

“And why was I not made aware of this at once?” Lord Stark felt his blood beginning to boil.

She looked somewhat taken aback, “These pains are normal, they are expected for how far along she is. My daughter–”

Cregan’s heavy palm landed flat on the wooden tabletop, “My wife is my main concern. Any news concerning her or my children should and will be brought to me at once.” 

Alicent pursed her lips, appearing to have a few words of choice for her daughter’s husband, though he turned his attention to the queen opposite him on the other end of the long table and looked equally as surprised and amused at the altercation as she sipped her wine.

“Excuse me, Your Grace,” he pushed himself up to his full height, “forgive my absence this evening, but if my wife is unwell I would prefer to be at her side.”

Rhaenyra smirked at him, nodding her head at him, “But of course, Lord Stark. I am honoured that you take such care of my sister. After all, family is everything, is it not?”

He ignored the way that her words seemed to have been aimed at the red-haired woman, who had slouched back into her own seat as a soft pink tinged at the apples of her cheeks, instead nodding at the queen and fleeing the room at once, his hurried and heavy footfalls carrying him through the castle and up to his wife’s personal chambers. He was disgruntled to find that they were empty, save for a servant girl who had been tending to the hearth and directed him to his own chambers.

The hinges creaked as he pushed his way inside, finding two handmaidens hovering worriedly over his wife as she hunched over on her hands and knees atop the plush bear-skin rug, back arched upwards like he’d only seen done by a cat. The two servants froze at the sight of the broad figure crossing the threshold.

“Lord Stark,” one of them rushed to him, “Lady Stark, she is alright, but–”

“Alright?” He scoffed, “She is on the floor in pain, she does not look alright.”

“Cregan,” Lady Stark glared up at him, voice strained with discomfort, “do not speak to my ladies like that.”

He let out a deep sigh, offering the servant a quiet but genuine apology, “Now please, just tell me what is wrong with her, and what I can do to help. Should I call a maester?”

The servant fought a soft smile, touched at the lord’s concern for his wife and child, “Lady Stark is experiencing little more than body aches. Normal for women carrying a child, especially their first. I’m afraid all the maester could do is offer milk of the poppy for discomfort, which could potentially do more harm to the child than good to the mother,” Cregan swallowed at the thought, “We’ve allowed the princess to soak in warm water, and the stretching helps while we prepare a hot pack over the fire.”

His gaze flickered to the small grate across the embers of the fireplace, holding three large black stones over them. He nodded, turning back to his wife, who had turned her face back into the rug while the other servant girl carefully massaged gentle circles into her lower back.

“What can I do?”

“The hot pack should help with the aches, but I’m afraid the best thing may be to keep Lady Stark as comfortable as possible, anything to keep her mind away from the pains.”

He nodded, “Leave us, I should care for my wife on my own.”

The door closed behind the two women as they hesitantly left their mistress’s side, loyal to the very end. Cregan wasted little time in removing his leather doublet and abandoning it on the plush bed, leaving him in only his breeches and thin linen shirt. He crossed the room, kneeling beside his wife and carefully laying his palm flat to her lower back, a small smirk appearing on his lips as she sighed from the relief brought by his large, warm hand. 

“If you were not so obviously in pain, I would guess that you were enjoying this, my love,” he chuckled as his hand copied the same circular pattern that the servant girl had applied.

“Shut up,” she turned her head to the side so she could glance up at him, “this is your fault.”

“My fault?” He scoffed, “As I recall, your current condition is the result of your uncontrollable desires.”

She pushed herself up onto her hands, “My what? It was you who was gone to the Wall for more than a moon!”

“And it was you who kept me from my duties until midday on the day after I returned.”

She pursed her lips, “Alright, next time I will allow you to go about your duties without a word. Then we will see which one of us is so insatiable.”

“Be that the case, I’m afraid you may be with child for the next decade or more, my love.”

“Just get the hot pack,” Lady Stark rolled her eyes, lowering her head back down to the plush rug, muttering to herself with a small grin, “a decade or more…”

He obliged, wrapping the stones in a thick woolen cloth before pressing them against the small of her back, a dusting of pink coating his cheeks at the sound she released, back curving inwards as relief overtook her body. 

They remained there for a long while, one of his hands holding the hot pack while the other smoothed over her silver hair, braided and still damp from her bath. The stones began to cool against his palm until they were no warmer than her own body heat, finally being tossed to the side.

“How do you feel?” He asked her, hands cradling her head and hip as he helped her roll onto her side.

“Better. Still plagued with discomfort, but better nonetheless,” She smiled softly at him, “I only wish someone may have warned me of the unpleasantness of pregnancy before I agreed to it.”

He barked out a laugh, remembering the many times she had pointed out the many ways pregnancy could ruin any romance in their marriage before it even began, hence their decision to wait before finally trying to conceive. 

“If only, eh?” He smoothed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

A twinkle appeared in her eye, “Well Maryssa did say that you should be doing anything to keep me comfortable…”

Lord Stark raised his brow at her words, “And what was it you only just said about me being insatiable? How have you gone from crippling pain to reaching for my breeches in such a hurry?”

She gasped, faux offense in her eyes, “I am not reaching for you breeches! What do you take me for?”

He quickly manoeuvred her onto her back, leaning down to press a slow yet meaningful kiss to her lips, “My very pregnant, very beautiful, and very impatient wife.”

She whined against his mouth, “I think impatience is quite appropriate given the circumstances. Your child has brought me the greatest joy and greatest pain of my life, and yet I constantly yearn for you, my love.”

“Constant?” He laughed.

“The maester warned me of it,” she kissed him again, “all a part of my hysteria, he called it.”

He hummed, “Which brings me to wonder why I was not made aware of this. I could have…relieved you of this suffering.”

She snorted a laugh, a sound he knew he could never grow tired of, “Cregan, if you do not take my clothes off now I would like to go to bed.”

“And what was it I said about your impatience?”

She pushed at his shoulder playfully, gasping as he grasped her wrist in his large hand and pulled her to sit up, moving to lift her and carry her to the bed when she pushed at his shoulder, shaking her head with a sly grin. 

“Here,” she insisted, “it is so warm, and this fur is so soft.”

He shook his head at her, rolling his eyes. Only his wife would be demanding enough as to where he had his way with her and choose anywhere except their marital bed. Only he would be so foolishly in love as to oblige her every whim and allow her to make such demands. 

Growing impatient, she began tugging at her own shift, struggling to lift her hips just enough to slide it over her hips and off completely, leaving her bare before her husband while the firelight flickered off of her soft, freshly oiled skin. His eyes fell from her own to her breasts, which had seemingly doubled in size through her pregnancy, then to her rounded belly; only a few moons would pass before she brought their first child into the world, and he could not be any more in love with her. He knew how excited she’d been over the last few weeks as her body developed with their growing child, spending much of her time with little Rickon, who was just as excited to become an older brother as she was to become a mother. 

“I am not simply here for decoration,” she growled, reaching up to begin tearing the linen shirt from her husband’s body, ignoring his laughter as she struggling to pull the fabric over his wide shoulders and causing his head to get stuck for a moment, “As I said, fuck me or let me sleep.”

His booming laugh echoed through the chamber, scarcely hearing his wife, a Targaryen princess and Lady of Winterfell, use such coarse language. It was the northerner growing within her, he decided as he obliged, kissing her with every ounce of desire he’d been forced to swallow throughout the duration of her family’s stay, pressing her back to lay flat against the dark brown fur. 

Cregan made quick work of kissing down her body, taking a few moments to kiss and suckle and squeeze at her swollen breasts, encouraged by her response to his touch on her sensitive skin as he continued further down. He pressed several playful kisses over her belly, whispering to their child to go to sleep so he could take care of his wife guilt-free. She giggled at this, causing a flood of heat to spread across his chest as he finally crested over the underside of her belly, coming face-to-face with the silver curls safeguarding her womanhood. 

Her legs fell apart easily, and he found no resistance as he eagerly began to feast upon her most intimate place. Her fingers curled into the fur beneath her as her whines and whimpers filled the room, unable to reach for his long dark hair with her belly in the way. He was pleasantly surprised to discover how much of her arousal had pooled between her thighs, two of his thick fingers easily slipping into her heat with practiced precision while his tongue massaged her sensitive pearl. 

Her body seemed more responsive than ever, thighs quivering against his shoulders as her peak crashed over her once, and then moments later, once more. 

He pulled away, noting how her hips had begun to pull away from him, her womanhood more sensitive than ever. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, watching through lustful eyes as his wife grabbed hold of his other wrist, taking the fingers that had brought her to bliss twice only moments before between her lips and sucking them clean. She stared up at him through her lashes, leaning up on her elbow to reach down and paw at the tent that had formed in his breeches, tugging at the laces until they fell open and allowed her to reach inside.

He let out a low growl at the sensation of her hand taking hold of his member, head falling back in relief. Cregan was quick to pull her hand away, shedding his trousers and boots as efficiently as possible so he could lay her flat on her back once more and finally press himself inside of her. 

They both let out long, breathy sounds at the stretch; no matter how many times they would lay together, she never quit got used to the intrusion of his thick cock inside of her, He remained still for a moment, regaining his wits as he willed himself not to finish far too early, though he could not guarantee that he would be able to fight his peak for very long after weeks without his wife’s intimate touch. 

“Cregan, please,” she whimpered, nails scratching down his arm as she planted his fist next to her head, bracing himself as he began to work slow, deep thrusts into her warmth, his own grunts and gasps of pleasure falling from his lips while her lips fell open to allow wails of her enjoyment fall from them with every punch of his tip against her most sensitive place deep within her. 

“My love,” he panted, “For-forgive me…I do not think–”

“Give yourself to me, my love,” she whined, “I need to feel you.”

He nodded, eyes tightening shut as he quickened his pace, chasing his release with grunts and growls and groans until his hips began to stutter, his release pumping deep inside of her until he was shaking. His release triggered her own, pleasure crashing over her for the third time that evening, soaking his length in both of their releases as she clung to his broad frame for dear life. 

She whined when he pulled out of her, sensitive from her three climaxes. He took a moment to stare down at her, stormy gaze trailing from her cunt, where their mix juices had begun seeping from her warmth, to her belly, where their child grew. His eyes then moved to her breasts, which heaved with every deep breath the escaped her parted lips, and finally to her face, which shone with a layer of perspiration as she pulled him down to lay next to her on the fur, turning to press her back against his chest and settling into his embrace as he trailed sweet kisses over her cheek, jaw, and neck. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, sleep threatening to overtake her at any moment. 

“Thank you,” Cregan responded. “I love you.”

“I love you too, husband.”

Silence overtook the room for a moment, only the sound of their slowing breaths and the crackling fire in the hearth could be heard before he finally shared his final thoughts of the night.

“I cannot bear to not have you all to myself for even a moment ever again,” he mumbled into her flesh, “we are never hosting your family again.”

A small chuckle vibrated through her chest.

“I could not agree more.”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Fantasy Villain

Imagine you’ve been transported to a DnD-Fantasy-like world. Quests, adventurers, and mystical beasts are everything you could dream of. You’ve already established your little troupe; becoming an important cornerstone of the group. Whatever your class, you’re excelling at they really rely on which is why things go badly when you meet him—-the recurring villain of this world.

“Oh my–oh my Zoth.”

“What? Do I horrify the little hero!?”

“No, you’re–”

“Worse than you imagined?”

“No, you’re–”

“(Y/n) stop freezing up!”

“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever met!”

The group is horrified as they plan a tactical retreat, finding it easier to thwart the Fantasy Villain’s attacks which are suddenly less frequent.  The group just assumes you’ve been enchanted because since you’ve locked eyes with him you’ve been unable to stand on your feet. Wide-eyed and breathing heavy you just can’t stop the heat climbing over your face and ears as you replay the moment you met over and over. 

“You realize he’s a part of the ugliest most horrible race known to all of Azarothan.”

“If that’s ugly then I’m dead!”

“M-maybe he did enchant them?”

Meanwhile, the Villain’s returned to home base, shedding his armor and dismissing his entourage. Sat on his throne he replays the words you’ve said to him…over and over….and over again. His ears are turning a deep blue and he can’t help the involuntary reaction of the volcano attached to his castle bubbling with excitement.

“They-they think I’m beautiful?!”

He’s reeling with an overflow of energy and unknown vigor when he recalls your awestruck face as you fell to your knees clutching your enchanted tool. He can’t stop the thought of you in that same position but in a different setting. Cursing his lacking imagination he concocts his usual magic to spy on the troupe with his crystal ball but this time he’s focused solely on you. 

“Surely they’ll brag about the enchantment they left on me…..and maybe talk about their own infatuation again.”

It strokes a different kind of pride when he hears you deny being cursed. The feelings are mutual. He’s over the moon all four of them. You have to understand the Fantasy Villain has never been told something so flattering. 

“From another world….figures. This world could never make such…a perfect soul.”

Since their upbringing, they’ve been met with nothing but scorn and hatred. Vowing to rule and change the world that did that to him. If others did express interest it was because he had power or was literally about to kill them. Your reaction, your unadulterated feelings for him, the tug at his soul is the only sign he needs before his objective changes. 

“I wanted to rule the world so I could change the world for me. But now I’m going to change the world so I can rule with them.”

He means it. The troops are given new orders, the deadly nightmarish beasts are given new tasks, and he’s already concocting a million different plans to attain you. He watches the crystal ball relentlessly trying to hear and see as much as he can to learn more about you. He realizes very quickly that he really hates those adventurers of yours.

“C’mon (Y/n)! Just because you’re attracted to the enemy doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to destroy the world!”

“Yeah (Y/n), you’ve got to get your head in the game. We need you!”

“I–your right…sorry guys…I just don’t think I’ve ever seen someone who fits my preferences so perfectly.”

“You don’t even know him!”

“But one look in his galaxy-like eyes and it felt like I did.”

He really hates them. Listening to them talk you out of your feelings for him. Before you arrived they were minor pests. Simply a small roadblock that he would eventually crush to shatter the hopes of the people when they needed them most. Now they were just obstacles in the way of his goal–you.

“Sire those adventurers you told us to keep an eye on are on the move. Should I give the order to attack?”

“No…summon the siren I’d like to take a different approach.”

He gets incredibly crafty, despite only meeting you once he can tell you aren’t heartless like he. He’s certain should you find him to be responsible for the death of anyone you’ve met you’d reject his love. So he’ll make it his plan to slowly break your little troupe, such spunky and erratic individuals may be just the only tool he needs.

“My orders, My Ruler?”

“Join their group. Do what you like with whoever you wish. 

“?”

“Bring discord how you see fit.”

“Yes, My Ruler!”

His plan is perfect and the group isn’t nearly suspicious enough to reject his double agent. Who’s presence triggers the cracks that this group had always had. When the group splits apart needing to cool off you’re left alone, a perfect chance for a moment with you. 

“Hello, little hero.”

“Whoa, what are you doing here? My troupe’s not too far! A-a-a-nd I–I’m willing to fight this time!”

“That’s a shame because I came to speak to you.”

“Really! Ahem, I mean about what?”

“About those words, you said to me….I wonder did you know what they’ve ignited.”

Taking advantage of your easily lowered guard, he speaks the truth. Coming in close enough to feel the heat escaping from your armor, he’ll share the tale of his past. Which as he predicted makes you so sympathetic and just as willing to sing his praises as the moment you met. 

“But you’re not ugly or horrid like they all say.”

“No?”

“I think you’re beyond handsome. One of the most ethereal beings I’ve ever met.”

“Do you truly think so?”

“I know so… I’m just sorry no one else has told you that.”

“I’m happy it was you.”

When you let him dive in for a kiss, naturally you accept it. Returning his vigor in kind if not with sympathy or just your attraction, you miss how he places a magical mark on your neck. Or how he casually enchants your armor to protect you better. Or how he influences the flora and fauna of the forest to curve in the direction you came from essentially blocking the path back to your camp. When he reluctantly releases you he further promises he’s never letting you leave his grasp. Promising to one day have you on the throne beside him.

“I must return and so must you. Your friends will worry.”

“Oh…you’re right.”

“Don’t sound so sad, we’ll meet again.”

“Not just in my dreams.”

“Not just in your dreams.”

He leaves not only giddy with love but with a new plan in mind. He prepared to be faced with a struggle, to have to fight for your affection as the enemy you’d be fighting. But he wasn’t prepared for your heart to be swayed so easily. Licking your remnants on his lips, he knows that you can be deceived, and conveniently so can the rest of the world.

Fantasy Villain devises that if the history of his race’s banishment and exile were portrayed in a certain light. You could defect to his side without guilt and if some of the more stubborn adventurers were to also agree that’d make things so much easier. Pretending to be persuaded to sign some peace treaty after being gifted enough land to rule over with you beside him didn’t sound too bad.

Even if that didn’t work the Fantasy Villain has decided you will rule beside him whether he has to trick, drug, or force you to be his. Though he adores the honest love in your eyes when he looks at you and he’s going to do whatever he needs to have it. 

[wiptw]

Pokémon Stadium Series

Nintendo 64 - Nintendo - 2000 to 2001

You as a Pokémon fan are absolutely fucking spoiled these days. Aside from the mainline games you have spinoffs and fangames offering different experiences, you have entire websites dedicated to documenting everything down to the internal maths of the series, there's no end to the free content you can access with an internet connection between emulators and battle sites like 'Showdown!', and it's now socially acceptable in most circles to be older than 13 and have something with Pikachu's face plastered on it (especially if you're female presenting, especially if your friend group is also infected with the Pokémon hype). Back in my day™ you had almost none of this. You had the anime on Saturday mornings, you had the early run Pokémon licensed merch which WOULD get you called a baby if you continued buying past 10-12, and you had the games. Those sweet, sweet games that indoctrinated a generation of young people into being gamers and awoke a horde of JRPG addicts.

Literally Me

So remember this when I tell you that Pokémon Stadium, both one and two, aren't great games because they do something back then that you can't get today; they're great for what they did back then. So Pokemon Stadium 1&2 were a duology of games from 2000 and 2001 respectively that allowed players to battle Pokemon in 3D, with the addition of some side content such as minigames included to prevent the game from being 100% Pokemon battles. Because otherwise, the game is in fact navigating a series of menus and completing Pokémon battles with 3D models.

Whether it's taking on the gym gauntlets, the marathon of battles in the Pokémon cups, or just free battles with friends and loved ones, 98% of the experience is either selecting Pokémon from a roster of pre-built 'rentals' or transferring them from a saved game using the Transfer Pak, then fighting them in a series of 3D environments. An experience which you can definitely do today using web apps but as I said earlier, we didn't have that.

The peak of Pokémon battles in 2000

So if you're buying Pokémon Stadium (either version really) you're already probably a Pokémon fan right? So that means you have Red/Blue/Yellow/Gold/Silver/Crystal, so why not just play that game and get the full experience? The fun of exploring, talking to NPCs, discovering new and exotic locations? Simple, because in those games battles looked like this

While in Stadium, battles looked like this

If you grew up watching the anime while playing the Gameboy games, there was this special kind of dissonance where you might find yourself saying "Yeah, (for the time) these graphics are RADICAL but I wish I had something closer to these cool Pokémon Battles they had in the anime." As you hide under the covers with your Gameboy Color worm light, nestled in your Ash Ketchum pajamas while you attempt for the 100th time to capture a ditto. Pokémon Stadium was the answer to this dissonance, providing you with vibrant 3D graphics unlike anything you'd ever seen before; bringing Pokémon to life in a way that would be unmatched until Colosseum came out during the Gamecube era.

So, to actual mechanics, you play both games pretty similarly; by building a team of Pokémon (either on your handheld or by using the rental mons the game provides) and take part in a series of battles to become the ultimate battle master. To use your own Pokémon, you'd need to use the aforementioned 'Transfer Pak' to plug in a copy of Red/Blue/Yellow (for 1) or Gold/Silver/Crystal (for 2) with a game saved to the cartridge; otherwise the rental Pokémon covered all released Pokémon (except for some hidden ones) allowing you to build your dream team, sans a few caveats here and there.

Evolved Pokémon have better stats but worse moves, while weaker Pokémon tend to have better moves to compensate

In terms of WHERE you can battle, there's two choices: Either in the Gym Leader Castle, or the Tournaments held in the center of the map on either game. Either way, the game will then have you battle through a series of 3v3 matches versus a set number of trainers who will also select 3 random mons from their full team of six.

A bit bare bones, but there's some spice to how things are run. For one, the rental system was a huge thing for us younger players back in the day. Even if you had the games some Pokémon were hard to catch, had evolution requirements some players couldn't complete (like the trade-mons), or were locked to a version you didn't have. The rental mons give you a list of every Pokémon (some exceptions, but not many) and then lets you build your dream team. Sure, you can't set their moves, EVs, IVs, and it's the era before abilities and natures but I CAN HAVE A MEOWTH/PERSIAN ON MY TEAM. Do you know what I had to do as a child to have this Pokémon outside of Stadium? I had to find someone in the American South who also enjoyed Pokémon, hoped they had Blue instead of Red, hoped they had a link cable, then get them to agree to a trade despite both of us being children (and therefore, objectively terrible) which likely meant giving away a rare Pokémon in exchange for what amounted to common garbage in their game because it was Version fucking Exclusivity™ and everyone seemed to know that meant you'd do anything to get that one fucking Pokémon you wanted.

In the handheld games, if you wanted to build your dream team then likely you'd have to put in some more effort than other games of the time would've required of you. With Stadium, your dreams come true, and if you already have that dream team you can just import them to fight in glorious 3D. Circumventing the fact that rental Pokémon are kinda terrible overall.

Don't feel like building? The challenge cup mode that gives you randomized team comps that has it's own charm (for masochists)

Not to say all of them were bad but construct a normal distribution of 'Good' to 'Bad' picks then that graph is gonna skew left so hard you'd be forgiven for thinking it was just a straight line. To keep every choice 'viable' Pokémon rentals were balanced around stats and moves. More powerful evolved Pokémon and Pokémon with high Base Stat Totals (BST) were given weaker moves and first form and low BST Pokémon were given generally better moves. Charizard might have better stats than Charmeleon and Charmander but his only fire type move is going to be something like Fire Spin. Conversely, Charmander might have Fire Blast but his stats are gonna make him an easy target for the computer's pokemon, which are not bound to the same builds as the rental mons you're using.

Once your team is assembled, then you're off to battle trainer after trainer after trainer with beautifully scored (for the Nintendo 64) soundtracks giving you an unearned sense of importance every step of the way. Battles themselves are conducted with a weird, but functional control layout where A and B access sub menus you then check with the R button before finalizing with the c-buttons, which on original hardware or a USB N64 controller is fine but on emulation with a more modern controller like Logitech, can be a little nerve wracking as you worry about whether your 'up' input on the control stick was up enough for the game or if you accidentally drifted right or left using an unintended move.

fun fact: the name of imported Pokémon affects their coloration in Stadium

Battles are also largely regulated by (at the time) tournament standard rules. Little and Pokecup have level restrictions, and all three non-random cups include clauses for sleep, held items, and repeat Pokémon. Additionally, in any cup if you win the round with all 3 Pokémon still in tact, you're granted a continue; meaning you can retry the battle if you lose. Additionally, there is no 'draw' outcome in these games. Use a move like Explosion or Selfdestruct and the game will register it as your loss on your final Pokémon, regardless of whether you took down the opposing fighter with you or not.

You'll be doing a LOT of back-to-back fights here against trainers with varied team comps, but even with over 246 Pokémon in the available potential lineup you'll get tired fast of fighting. This is, however, slightly mitigated by the 3v3 nature of the matches but even so be ready to here the same Pokémon noises, watch the same effects play out, and wait for the same health bars to tick down over and over as you claw your way to the spot of Pokémon Master.

The art style of non-battle scenes like the main map and minigame plaza have that nice, 90's charm to them as well.

If you do get tired of battling it out, then Stadium 1 and 2 both offer minigames for players to partake in. Either in a tournament format or by using the free-play browser, players are able to take part in a multitude of different Mario Party-esque (without the hand burning) minigames featuring the Pokémon as stars. Minigames consist of stick twirling, button mashing, and point collecting all while controlling fan favorite Pokémon such as Togepi, Eevee, Scyther, and Pichu with no real rhyme or reason behind why these game exist aside from a amusement park theming the minigame zones have for their icons and menus.

You won't get a real explanation as to why you're racing Donphans, cutting logs as Scythers and Pinsirs, or playing Simon Says with a bunch of Clefairy, but you don't really need that either. The games are fun, the models are charming, and watching Clefairy get smacked in the head for each wrong input brings me a level of joy I should probably talk about with my therapist. You won't likely spend hours in this mode, but it's a nice breather from the onslaught of battles otherwise.

fun fact: I still won't talk to some people because of the outcomes to Rampage Rollout over two decades ago. You know who you are.

Additionally there's a quiz minigame separate from the main selection of minigames with easy/normal/hard difficulty selections. Players compete to see who can be the first to get a number of questions correct before anyone else based on facts about the Pokémon (typing, size, silhouette, etc) or facts about the game (where you can find things in the game, names of routes and towns, names of figures in the game).

It's not the most challenging on easy or normal, but playing on hard the game will try to screw you with trick questions so playing with others becomes a balance of "do I let the question play out, or attempt to steal it before someone else can answer correctly?"

Sometimes even playing the game won't prepare you for how out of pocket the questions can get

The real advantage of 2 over 1 is that, in addition to minigames, the game has the trainer academy; a kind of in-depth battle tutorial to teach players not only the basics of Pokémon fighting, but also some secrets as well

You can learn about held items, a feature new to the second generation, as well as participate in mock battles to demonstrate the materials you've been reading and quizzed on. Some of this information for the time too was obscure or hidden knowledge, like the fact that using Defense Curl before using Rollout would boost the damage significantly or that using Stomp on an opponent who used minimize would double the damage.

Some type matchups just make sense, like Ground v Electric.

Overall though what really makes this game is the presentation. The soundtrack does a great job selling the feeling Nintendo wants you to experience, climbing the ladder in a tournament or the Gym Leaders Castle makes you feel powerful, and the little details on top of it all just tie it together in a nice package.

The fights, for example, are also narrated by "The Announcer". A bombastic voice shouting over every detail of a fight. When you score a crit, when you apply a status effect, even using certain moves will get the announcer loudly narrating each detail like a Pokémon prize fight. Seeing the ground rip apart when you use Earthquake is only half the charm, the other half comes from that man yelling in your ears "A DEVESTATING EARTHQUAKE ATTACK!". Clearing gyms or clearing opponents in one of the cups grants you gym badges, a dream for any child growing up on the handheld classics or watching the anime who wished they too could earn shiny bits of metal that gave them an inflated sense of importance.

I would literally kill everyone I came across if it'd get me a real life Zephyr Badge.

Stadium 1 and 2 aren't evergreen classics. They're stuck in Gens 1 and 2 respectively, the roster of Pokémon while impressive is largely useless and makes collecting trophies way harder than it has to be, and the games were made before things like abilities and double battles were introduced, leading to the Pokémon battling game missing out on the generation of Pokémon that made battling more fun (Revolution doesn't count, Revolution is dead to me and disappoints me more than I disappoint myself.)

But for the time especially, it gave fans an opportunity to experience a form of Pokémon more advanced than what the handhelds could output. It was a window into a world of potential that wouldn't be truly fulfilled until arguably the 3DS era of Pokémon released, and gave fans a fun little romp handcrafted for them at every twist and turn. Whether you were a gamer or you enjoyed the anime, there was something here for you.

Overall: 7/10 Sound: 8/10 (for the time) Graphics: 9/10 (for the time) Memorable Moments: Stadium 1: Hearing about Mewtwo, thinking he was an urban legend, then finding out he wasn't Stadium 2: Finally beating the elite 4 using only rental mons.

[vivwritescrappythings]

golden linings

knight!könig x plus-size!fem!reader

part 1 - part 2 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6

the evening ball presents you with an unconventional dance partner

tw: fem reader, plus size reader, mentions of body image, yearning!, not proofread

wc: 2.5k

masterlist

--

You thanked Lord Asterly for his lackluster conversation, excusing yourself with a polite smile and a lousy attempt at a curtsy. It was obvious that your father had asked him to come speak to you, the eager expression on his face clear to you even across the room. You resisted the urge to glare at him as you retreated to the safety of the refreshment table.

König lingered nearby, his armor freshly polished and a clean hood over his head. He looked larger than life in comparison to the other knights and guards scattered around the room, towering over them despite his efforts to blend in with the column he stood next to.

His gaze was on you expectantly as you approached, a crystal glass of punch in one of your hands. A question lingered in the way his eyes narrowed slightly. “He only wished to talk about how big his family’s estate was, and the rumor of my considerable dowry,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes. 

The black hood covering König’s face rippled, a sign of his soft laughter. You heard it a few times, a rough bark of a noise—he reserved it for private times between the two of you.

“My father believes that I will meet a suitable husband at one of these,” you muttered, glaring over the rim of your glass at the dancing couples. “He is convinced that I can find a love match like my sister, but he seems to forget that she was blessed with a beauty I do not possess.”

König simply shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. He avoided speaking in the presence of others, only occasionally whispering in your ear if necessary. Apparently it was not necessary that evening.

You ran a hand along the embroidered fabric pulling in your waist; the dress you were wearing was far too extravagant for a woman of your station. It squeezed you around the middle—it had taken the effort of two maids to pull the bodice laces so tight that you could hardly breathe. As though members of the court would not see the softness of your jaw and your arms and know better.

The punch was tart on your tongue. You hardly could conceal your scowl as you watched the dance floor, men twirling their wispy dance partners over the polished stone floor. Jealousy threatened to strangle your heart as you set your empty glass down, pivoting away from the dance floor to take a turn about the room.

König remained where he stood, you could feel his gaze track the back of your head as you offered tight-lipped smiles to lords and ladies as you sidled your way past. You had become used to the weight of his eyes on you. It would be odd if he looked elsewhere, the comfort peeled away from your shoulders to leave you bare.

You wormed your way into a group of ladies your age, their chatter filling your ears. They made space for you readily, welcoming you into their circle with saccharine smiles and soft greetings.

“Tell us, have you thought about what your wedding will be like?” one of the girls asked. You recognized her from around the castle—a recent arrival for the ball. She had always been kind enough, smiling at you in the halls and asking polite questions about your embroidery.

You felt your cheeks heat up as though you had been caught doing something wrong. “Admittedly, probably not as much as I should,” you said with a sheepish smile. 

It seemed that a wedding should be the only thing on a young lady’s mind. 

The women giggled, some offering up remarks of solidarity. “Not even what color dress you will wear?” another asked, pressing closer into the circle as she observed you with wide eyes.

Another resounding no. “Well, most likely blue, I suppose.” You stumbled through the words, begging for some detail to come forth into your mind. “I would want the color of my dress to match my husband’s attire. Perhaps even the same fabric could be used for the gown as his tunic.”

“Oh I think that would be lovely!” Mary exclaimed, grabbing onto your wrist for a moment as she grinned excitedly at you. She was your closest friend at the castle aside from König. Her father was on the king’s small council just as yours was, proximity forcing you into an easy friendship. You squeezed her arm as a thank you.

“I think my father will be willing to pay for a gold gown for me.” Your eyes rolled of their own volition, your irritation obvious. Mary shared your sentiment, leaning into you as her bony arm pressed along your soft bicep—a silent agreement.

It was as though all anyone thought about was getting married: whose dowry was bigger or whose father was willing to spend more coin on their wedding. 

It was exhausting.

The whole event was exhausting. You never realized that balls lasted until the early hours of the morning. The musicians played until the blue fingers of dawn started to cross the sky, the sun threatening to rise over the ocean. 

You yawned into your palm, bidding Mary goodnight as you ambled your way back to König. He was still just as alert as you left him, posture straight and hands clasped behind us back.

“Goodnight, papa,” you murmured to your father as you passed him. He paused his conversation to wrap an arm around your shoulders and squeeze you to his side for a brief moment, murmuring a “goodnight” into your temple before releasing you. 

König perked up slightly when you came to a stop in front of him, his broad shoulders relaxing a fraction as he tilted his head down toward you. 

“I think I have had more than my fair share of the festivities this evening,” you said, already turning toward the double doors leading toward the east wing of the castle. He nodded, dutifully falling into step at your side.

The castle was eerily quiet at that time of morning.

Many servants had either retired late or woken up as the sun rose and the party guests had not started to leave yet, the halls were empty. The light streaming in through the windows was tinged the periwinkle of early morning, the sconces lining the walls nearly burning out. 

“I can only imagine you had a rather exciting evening,” you murmured to König, a bit of a smirk on your face.

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head once. “I have had worse nights than that, my lady,” he said, voice low and raspy from disuse. It still surprised you to hear him, it felt like a special privilege to know his voice.

You hummed your acknowledgement. He told you of his times fighting along the eastern border. There was a vague memory floating in the back of your mind of your father discussing the skirmishes with neighboring kingdoms about farmland, but it had not affected your home much aside from a sudden drop in potato dishes. You could not fathom what it had been like on the front lines.

It was a relatively peaceful era for the majority of the kingdom; König was one of the few people you knew that had actually seen battle. He refused to tell you the details of it.

“Well that is true,” you concurred, inclining your head toward him, “but this certainly had to be boring. Knights on duty were not even allowed to dance.”

You turned the corner toward your quarters, the windows lining the one side of the hallway showed the sun starting to crest over the horizon. The sky was splashed with pinks and oranges, the whispers of the clouds above catching the colors and lined in bright white. 

“You did not dance, either,” König remarked.

Your cheeks warmed, embarrassment clenching around your throat. “No one asked me to dance.” You studied the way the hem of your gown fluttered across the floor as you walked. 

“Would you have liked to dance?” 

You shrugged noncommittally, chewing your lower lip for a moment. “I suppose I would have,” you finally mumbled. A sidelong glance at König confirmed that he had turned his head to look at you, eyes the color of aquamarines shining through the eye holes of his hood. “But it is not proper for a lady to ask, she must be asked by a man.”

König hummed thoughtfully for a moment before stopping in place. You were just a few paces from your door.

“Would you like to dance with me, my lady?” he asked, turning to face you dead on. He offered a gloved hand palm-up for you to take, his other hand tucked behind his back as though he was a proper lord asking a lady to dance.

You let out a soft chuckle, the warmth on your cheeks spreading to the entirety of your face. At first you assumed he meant it in jest, but a twinkle in his eye made you reconsider. “But there is no music.”

“Humor me,” he responded in the same beat.

It was enough to convince you. You smiled nervously, your nose scrunching a bit as you slipped your hand into his. 

“Which dance will we do?” you asked, having to crane your neck back to properly look up at König. You placed your hand on his shoulder, the metal pauldron smooth beneath your fingertips.

His broad hand found the curve of your waist, pulling you a fraction of an inch closer. You were surprised by the stretch of his fingers, feeling the press of his hand around the entirety of your side. You never thought you would feel small in a man’s embrace.

“The one that had you glaring at the dance floor.” König’s voice had a hint of a smile in it, mirth clear in his gaze. You scoffed, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. He squeezed your hand as he snickered.

Then he moved into the first steps, shockingly graceful as he led you into the dance. You stumbled at first, both of you laughing as his hold on your waist tightened. He pressed you in the right direction with his palm.

“You are rather good at this,” you commented, finally synchronizing with him.

“It was a long evening,” König explained, spinning you elegantly before capturing your waist once more. “Dancing is not so far from fighting when it comes to the core movements. The steps are not hard to grasp and are similar to one another, I did spend the past few hours watching them.”

“So you did use your time wisely,” you teased. 

His hand shifted from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer. You were nearly pressed against the metal of his chestplate, the burnished steel reflecting the light of the sunrise as König whirled you over the stone like it was a dance floor. 

You hardly even noticed there was no music playing, your mind filling in the silence surrounding the soft sound of your footsteps and the occasional metallic click from his plate armor. Your gown swished against his legs, just a whisper of noise.

The edge of König’s hood fluttered against your fingertips as your hand rested on his shoulder. The black fabric was coarser than you expected, the edges fraying. It was different from the hood he wore most days: there was no discoloration around the eyes. You ached to remove it.

The sun rose slowly, blood orange light flooding the hallway. Everything seemed to stand still aside from the syrupy movements of the two of you dancing in silence. König led you through the steps slower than the music would normally go, seemingly savoring the moments of closeness as his head bowed toward yours.

You were lost in the moment, the heavy scent of oakmoss incense interlaced with marjoram and sage that clung to him almost made you feel like you were in a dream. Perhaps you had dreamt this? It would not have been the first time you dreamt of the knight sweeping you off your feet.

“You are lost in your thoughts, my lady,” König said, pulling you from the reverie. You blinked a few times, looking up at him through your lashes with a guilty smile.

“You have surprised me, I did not think you to be a dancer,” you managed to lie, attempting to hide your daydreaming.

König let out a huff, spinning you once more. It would have been the crescendo of the music had there been any, he continued twirling you until the imaginary note ended. Then he yanked you close, pressing your belly to his pelvis as his forearm settled across the small of your back.

“König!” you yelped, giggling as you steadied yourself with your hands on his breastplate. The lack of sleep and proximity were going to your head, your face so warm you could practically start a fire. 

Gloved fingers brushed a loose piece of hair from your forehead, tucking it back into the braided style you wore. “Those men are fools for not asking you to dance, all of them,” he said softly, a knuckle brushing against the outside of your jaw to direct your gaze up at him. 

You floundered for words, mouth opening and closing like a fish. The sun had nearly risen, light flooding in and illuminating a golden outline around König. You could feel the scales of his armor through the too-tight bodice of your gown, the pieces of metal shifting with your breaths.

You inhaled, lips parting to respond.

Peals of laughter bounced down the hallway, making you lurch apart. You pressed your back against the carved wood of your door, teeth digging into your lower lip as he settled into the same stance he had been in all night: shoulders squared and arms clasped behind his back.

It took time to gather yourself after the shock—you and König had done nothing wrong. But you would have. “Thank you for the dance, König,” you finally blurted out, voice higher pitched than normal. 

He inclined his head toward you, silent now that others were wandering down the hall back to their chambers. They were in their cups, staggering in each other’s arms as the morning sun shined on them. You stared for a beat, chewing the inside of your cheek.

König grabbed the handle of your door, pulling it open for you in a smooth motion. “Goodnight,” you said, reflex driving you. It had become routine–bidding him goodnight at the end of each day. 

“Goodnight, my lady,” he whispered, so low you could barely hear it. You looked up at him over your shoulder as you turned, meeting his bright eyes before slipping inside your room.

The door closed behind you, your hand clapping over your mouth to muffle your giddy laugh. You leaned against the door, imagining what König was doing on the other side. He would have to be relieved of his post soon, he needed to sleep just as much as you did. 

But for the moment, you thought of his heavy hand on your waist and his knuckle on your cheek.

[desultory-novice]

...Did everyone Read The Announcement Post Very Carefully?

That's right. Kirby of the Stars: The Magic Crystal and The Mysterious Maze was my "A.P.R.I.L. F.O.O.L.S" joke! Sorry! XD

It started at the end of January when I remembered that I'd made a joke grouping of the four Dream Friends that get consistently left out of the novels: Marx, Adeleine, Ribbon, and Dark Meta Knight. I wanted to do something special for them and, partly inspired by Jojo's roleswap cover emulating the FL novels, I thought to make a fake novel cover just for MY forgotten favorites! Gryll and the Fairy Queen are a bonus, because if I was doing this, I would go all out!

I took a huge amount of reference photos, both from the novels and from Tau and Poto's "Find Kirby" books (the only place they've ever drawn Gryll! The Fairy Queen I referenced from Wave 2's ending picture in Star Allies - that's why her crown looks slightly different. Speaking of, Ripple Star Castle (?) is WEIRD looking, y'all!)

At ~40 hours~ of sketching, drawing, painting, refining, trying to get those distinctive Kirby novel touches right (don't get me started on emulating the cover's texture. I was a dumb bunny and remade it by HAND out of a clean scrap about the size of Kirby's body!) this was an immense challenge and the most time I’ve ever put into any illustration, but it was also a huge labor of love for Kirby and its cast!

For what it's worth, I actually did come up with a full on "plot" for this fake novel of mine! (And yes, it was a big stretch to combine Kirby 64 with Amazing Mirror, Milky Way Wishes, and Star Stacker!!)

Here is the "chapter list" (in English and Japanese!)

1 / "Marx the Magician Comes to Town!" 魔法使いマルクがやってきたのサ！

2 / "Into The Mysterious Mirror Maze" いざ！不思議なミラー迷宮へ

3/ "Ribbon The Fairy and The Missing Crystal" 妖精リボンちゃんと失わ���たクリスタル

4 / "Moving Reflections?! The Maze's Secret!" 動く反映？！迷宮の秘密！

5 / "Adeleine and The Path Leading Out" アドレーヌと出口への道

6 / "Oh No! The Jumbled Dimensions!" 大変！バラバラの次元回路！

7 / "Marx's Mocking Laughter?!" マルクの嘲笑？！

8 / "Catch That Clown!" あの道化師を捕まえろ！

9 / "A Day Packed Full of Delights" 楽しい満喫な一日

-

In the "backstory" Marx attempted to steal/use the large Crystal from Ripple Star ("It's just a prank, bro!") but something happened (maybe the Queen did something) and the Crystal split into shards.

So Marx makes up a fake show and comes to Popstar to dupe all the simpletons there (his words, not mine) to do the bothersome task of gathering all the shards for him to fix the crystal while he sits back and waits, disguising this arduous task as a "fun game."

Kirby and the rest fall for it and start to do Marx's dirty work, going into the mirror maze (related to the Mirror World?) But there, Kirby meets the hardworking fairy, Ribbon, who is working all on her own to try and get the crystals back before Marx can. (Or, if Marx duped the folks of Ripple Star that he'd fix his own mess, he then trapped Ribbon in the maze once they were out of sight!) But so far, she has failed to convince any of his "guests" that she is anything other than a clever attraction. Kirby believes her though and offers his help!

I hadn't fully figured out how the mirror worlders were connected, but I thought it might have been possible they were working with Ripple Star/the good guys (but seemed to be "bad" because they were "scaring" the carnival attendees) or maybe, DMK and Shadow Kirby (who I was originally going to put in the cover as well but it got too crowded for him) were there as guardians to warn everyone to stop messing around with powers they don't understand.

Bandee spends most of his time in the novel outside the maze (to skirt any questions of a mirror Bandanna Waddle Dee) waiting for everyone alongside Marx, where he will eventually figure the jester's game and goes into the maze to warn Kirby and friends. Just as the group seems lost, they will encounter Adeleine, who will be all big sister like and help guide the kids to the exit (using the never fail maze escape strategy of "keep your hand on the right-hand wall")

However, just as things seem to be going well, Marx has used what pieces of the crystal the Popstarians have collected for him to pull his prank, and the gang find themselves lost not in the maze, but in a cartoonish jumble of dimensions!! (Picture each door you go through, whether it's to the kitchen or the castle, leading you to an entirely different planet!) It's amidst this wacky dimensional comedy, trying to grab Marx to get him to Cut! It! Out! that they meet Gryll, who knows Marx well and gives the gang a tip to lure him out (probably involving them all NOT panicking and instead sitting down amidst the chaos and enjoying a simple Adeleine-sponsored picnic, pretending like they're having a great time without him.)

They defeat Marx once he shows up to confront them, complaining they aren't "playing along right" and Gryll takes the battered, bruised jester back for "remedial magic training" or something equally embarrassing for Marx. Back home at last, they find it's sunset now and Marx's One Day Carnival (now being run by the Waddle Dees, who just can't help from helping out) is coming to an end!

However, Kirby, Bandee, Meta Knight, and King Dedede invite Ribbon (and Adeleine and the Mirror Worlders) to enjoy the last hours of the carnival with them before bidding everyone goodbye.

They promise to remain friends, however!

-

Speaking of friends...

I'm taking a long break from fandom to tackle some new things and take on a new direction in my life. As such, I have taken down all my old work from this blog to get some much needed emotional distance from certain things. That said, I don't require anyone who reblogged any of it in the past to delete those reblogs, nor do you have to cease sharing/distributing things of mine. Just know that if you ask questions, I probably won't be here to answer them.

My love for Kirby and its cast will continue, despite this change. And I do hope the fandom will continue to bloom in my absence.

To everyone who left me such beautiful messages on my previous post, thank you so, so much. I won't forget you all. I hope if our paths cross again, it will be as friends once more. And if not...rest assured that you will forever be a part of my precious memories.

[velting]

Winner of the Poll ⇒

This is the top 5 winners that I let you guys voted for, for which guys you would like to see in Ghibli males! And to no surprise Rin won....

Now as a matter of time here are the top 5 winners that I would make a story for them the male MC’s in the movie! And ofc the reader is portrayed as the female MC in the movie, you could be a goldfish,an cursed old lady, a witch or a wolf princess! But alas y'all picked the scared little girl as you (I judge you all for picking Rin. Especially you Mari, you know what you did)

Enough of that, here are the top winners!

RIN ITOSHI ⇒

#1st place winner with 26% votes

The story is about the adventures of a young ten-year-old girl named [Name] as she wanders into the world of the gods and spirits. She is forced to work at a bathhouse following her parents being turned into pigs by the evil witch. Luckily, the boy named Rin helps. After getting her to safety, he gives her detailed instructions on how to get a job in the spirit world, which he says is the only way to survive. He says his name is Rin and that he has known her since she was very small.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒕, 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆. 𝑰’𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆."

-ℝ𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕤 ℍ𝕒𝕜𝕦

"𝑹𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒍. 𝑯𝒆’𝒔 𝒂 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏!"

-[ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖] 𝕒𝕤 ℂ𝕙𝕚𝕙𝕠𝕪𝕠

MICHAEL KAISER ⇒

#2nd place winner with 25.2% votes

[Name], a young milliner, is cursed by a vengeful witch, transforming her into an elderly woman; to break the curse, she seeks out the enigmatic wizard Kaiser, who lives in a moving castle powered by a fire demon named isagi, and together they embark on a journey that involves war, self-discovery, and the true meaning of love, as [Name] learns to embrace her inner strength and challenges Kaiser to confront his own fears and insecurities, ultimately breaking the curse by accepting herself as she is.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍"

-𝕄𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕖𝕝 𝕒𝕤 ℍ𝕠𝕨𝕝

"𝑨 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒚 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏"

-[ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖] 𝕒𝕤 𝕊𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕖

YOICHI ISAGI ⇒

#3rd place winner with 16.8% votes

Two orphans [Name] and Yoichi are pursued by government agent, the army, and a group of pirates. They seek [Name's] crystal necklace, the key to accessing Laputa, a legendary flying castle hosting advanced technology.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒌𝒚... 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈."

-𝕐𝕠𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕚 𝕒𝕤 ℙ𝕒𝕫𝕦

"𝑰'𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒕 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒊𝒙𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔."

-[ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖] 𝕒𝕤 𝕊𝕙𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕒

MEGURU BACHIRA ⇒

#4th place winner with 10.7% votes

The son of a sailor, 5-year old Meguru lives a quiet life on an oceanside cliff with his mother Yuu. One fateful day, he finds a beautiful goldfish trapped in a bottle on the beach and upon rescuing her, names her [Name]. But she is no ordinary goldfish. The daughter of a masterful wizard and a sea goddess, [Name] uses her father’s magic to transform herself into a young girl and quickly falls in love with Meguru, but the use of such powerful sorcery causes a dangerous imbalance in the world.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"𝑳𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑰𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚?"

-𝕄𝕖𝕘𝕦𝕣𝕦 𝕒𝕤 𝕊𝕠𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕖

"[𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆] 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝑴𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖!"

-[ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖] 𝕒𝕤 ℙ𝕠𝕟𝕪𝕠

HYOUMA CHIGIRI ⇒

#5th place winner with 9.3% votes

Hyouma, a young Emishi prince, is cursed by a demonic boar god while defending his village, forcing him to journey west to find a cure; there, he becomes entangled in a war between the forest spirits, led by a human girl raised by wolves named [Name], and the inhabitants of Irontown, a human settlement led by the ambitious Lord Chris, who is aggressively exploiting the forest for resources; Hyouma must navigate this conflict, trying to find a balance between the needs of humans and nature to break the curse on his arm and prevent further destruction.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆... 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍..."

-ℍ𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕞𝕒 𝕒𝕤 𝔸𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕒

"𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖! 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒎!"

-[ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖] 𝕒𝕤 ℙ𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕠𝕜𝕖

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

#6th place is Kenyu Yukkimiya with 6.1%

#7th place is Reo Mikage with 3.8%

#8th place is both tied are Nijiro Nanase and Eita Otoya with 1.2%

The story will be posted at my Tumblr page where it would be public for everyone to see and read! I hope my attention span doesn't die on me and hopw to make all five of them at the end! Till then!

P.S: Please tell me or comment on any questions you guys might have for me and I'll gladly answer them for you

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

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© 2024 Ｖｅｌｖｅｔｅｅｎ 平和な目覚め— do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform without my permission!

[lulublack90]

Prompt 9 - Loose

@jegulus-microfic April 9, Word count 740

Previous part First part

One by one, they all arrived at the predesignated spot. James and Regulus got there first and waited for the others. Barty, Evan and Dorcas under disillusionment charms, but Pandora skipped across the damp grass, changing direction every now and again, dancing in and out of the shadows. 

“Hello,” she said sweetly, craning her neck all the way back to look up at James. He felt a sudden rush of protectiveness course through him, much like the one he felt for Regulus and his friends. 

“Hello, Pandora,” he returned her smile. “Right,” he said, tearing his eyes away from the tiny girl in front of him and addressing the others. “Are we ready? Has everybody brought a crystal phial?” A sudden intake of breath let him know someone hadn’t. 

“Shit!” Barty groaned. “I had it right next to me, but I was worried that my hair might be an issue and I walked off without it. I’ll have to walk back up to the castle,” Pandora fussed with the small drawstring bag she carried over her shoulder, pulling the neck loose and taking out two crystal phials from inside it. She handed one to Barty. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you, Pandora?” Barty gushed as he held the vial to his chest. She blew him a kiss and began to wander into the gloomy forest. James looked at her in shock. It was only after seeing her step over a large root that he realised she was completely barefoot. 

She led them right to the clearing where James had chosen. He had no idea how she knew that was the place. Perhaps it was just a fluke?

“We tend to just go with it,” Evan said beside him. James jumped. He hadn’t realised he was that close. He had been silent, his feet barely making a sound on the forest floor. 

“Yup,” James answered, moving so that he could see all of them. He looked up, and the full moon shone down over their little clearing, bathing them in its ethereal light. “Take out your phials and hold them so they get moonlight on them,” as one, the group did as they were told, holding the phials high into the air. “Now take out the mandrake leaves from under your tongues and put them in the phials,” again they did as he commanded.

“Eugh, finally,” Barty grimaced as he pushed the soggy leaf into the neck of the phial. 

“Now one of your own hairs,” each member of the little group reached up and plucked a single hair from their heads. Dorcas kindly helped Barty find one that had regrown with his natural colouring, or so he thought. James winced as Dorcas yanked a few out at the same time, making Barty yelp. They replaced the stopper and that was that, for now. “First thing in the morning you need to put a teaspoon of dew into the phial. You’ll need to do this for seven days,” he held out the vial he and Regulus had collected well over a month ago. “Use this,” he warned, holding out a silver teaspoon. “Do not use anything else, or you’ll ruin the ritual, and you’ll have to start over with the mandrake leaf again,” Pandora took both and put them safely in her bag. 

James held out his final offering. Five Deaths-head Hawk Moth chrysalises. He gave them to Pandora as well. “Put one of these in your potion at the end of the seven days and then put the phials in a quiet dark place and leave them alone. If you disturb them, see my previous warning.” A few chuckles echoed around the quiet clearing. “This is the last bit of information I’ll give you, I swear,” James told them. He wasn’t sure when he’d be able to get them all together again and this was important. Sure, he could get Regulus to relay the instruction, but he’d feel better if he did it himself. “Once you’ve hidden your phials, you’ll need to start reciting this incantation every sunrise and sunset. Amato Animo Animato Animagus,”

“When do we stop doing that?” Dorcas asked.

“When the next electrical storm hits,” James grinned. “Then the real fun begins because that’s when you’ll change for the first time,” The excited energy that filled the group was almost palpable. Regulus’s hand slipped into his and then left the others to it. 

Next part

[persephone-writes]

A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Hourglass

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter Twenty-Two - Chapter Twenty-Four ☆ Series Masterlist

Description: You try your best to help Sirius with his brother, even if it means trusting your abilities in Divination more than ever before.

Word Count: 7.9k

You were unable to find Sirius, at least while you were in Hogsmeade. After a few hours meandering around the village with only a vague interest in the shops, James, Peter, and Remus went back to the Three Broomsticks to see if Sirius was drowning his sorrows in butterbeer…or a half dozen shots of firewhiskey. You and Lily split up to check the shrieking shack, however unlikely it may be that he would go there of all places, and Marlene and Dorcas walked the streets as a last ditch effort. None of you were able to locate him. 

With a dark cloud hanging over your heads, you all left Hogsmeade in the early evening before dinner, your steps slow and dragging down the path towards the castle. As she had done while you searched the shack, Lily tried to look on the bright side of things. 

“It’s probably a good sign we haven’t found him. It means he’s probably still with his brother.”

James, whose hands were shoved into his pockets and his head hung, lifted his face for a second, his eyes finding hers. “Or it went badly and he's gone to hide.”

“Do you really think Regulus would attack him?” Marlene asked in a whisper. 

“Not that kind of hiding,” James muttered, his gaze finding the ground once again. 

Remus kicked a pebble with the tip of his shoe, sending it skidding along the path before it fell into the grass, hidden within the green. “He’ll be back tonight,” was all he said, his voice betraying his hopeful words. 

The short conversation hit another lull, leaving you to stew in your own thoughts, however melancholy they may be. You wished you had a prediction, an inkling, anything to tell you what would happen with Regulus, though you were just as blind as everyone else. You could try, you supposed, stealing another few eggs from the kitchens or borrowing Steve Zielinski’s crystal ball. Even so, you had serious doubts that your elementary skills would result in anything substantial in the way of Regulus’s future. 

You all went straight to the Great Hall with the measly hope you’d find Sirius already sitting at the table, though he was nowhere to be found. It was lively tonight, fueled by Hogsmeade and the promise of no classes the following morning, though your group added nothing to the exuberance. You ate in relative silence, save for the sound of Remus repeatedly stabbing slices of pork chops with the thick metal prongs to add onto his plate. You lingered there until the very last scattering of students began to get up to leave, your group eventually following.

“I wonder where he is,” Marlene mumbled, her voice barely discernible despite the fact that you were standing right beside her. 

You trudged up the staircase towards the tower, trying to think of a suitable thing to say. You had no clue where he could be, if he was still with his brother or not, or if James was right and he was tucked away somewhere wallowing in the agony of his brother's future. You didn’t dare bring up the latter point again, not when you could see the hurt behind Marlene’s eyes. You hadn’t pressed her on the topic of Sirius lately, though you had a good enough idea that it was bothering her more than she was letting on. 

“Remus is right,” you began, speaking close to her ear. “He’ll be back tonight.”

☆  ─────── ₒ*ₒ☾   ☽ₒ*ₒ ───────  ☆

It was another early morning on Sunday, though a dream had not been what awoke you. Dorcas was snoring again, having forgotten to cast a silencing charm. Marlene and Lily appeared unaffected, neither stirring behind the curtains of their four-posters. It was a wasted effort to fall back asleep, so you gave in to the early morning sunlight. You dressed for the day, lugging your books into the common room like you had done a thousand times before, hoping that you could make some use of your extra time. 

Sirius had not come back the previous night, at least not to the common room before you went to bed. You assumed he must have staggered up to his room at some point, the need to sleep likely overpowering his desire to self isolate. 

Unsurprisingly, there was no sign of him as you set your books on to one of the common room tables, flattening out a roll of parchment as you flipped one open. You’d have to actually practice Transfiguration later, though notes would do for now. It was as good a way as any to rid your mind of what your friends had said to you the day before, Lily’s words breaking through most of all. “Even if you don’t have the sight, you’re gifted, more than you give yourself credit for.” Trusting one’s gut was always a good thing, though their confidence in your abilities was reaching James-level trust. You couldn’t even figure out your own future, much less anyone else’s. Lily always was too kind to you. 

Your quill tapped against your parchment as your eyes glazed across the same sentence over and over, your mind refusing to accept the words into recognition. Like a fist banging on a door, your problems would not allow you to focus on anything else. You couldn’t shake what you had thought the evening before, the ideas that had popped into your head on the way back to the castle…

You didn’t bother removing your things from the common room, rather gathering them into a neat pile and shoving it to the far side of the table. Without much of a plan other than going to the kitchens, you left the tower, making the long trek down to the basement. The castle was completely silent, though the kitchens were anything but.

As soon as you pushed open the painting you were met with various clatters coming from the far rooms, the house elves moving swiftly to and from the pantry, weaving around one another as if they could predict the others movements. Silver trays floated in the air behind them, bags of flour sent flurries of powder as they were plopped onto the floor, whisks spun rapidly in massive bowls of batter. It was controlled chaos, and you only hoped that your presence wouldn’t push it over the edge into complete disarray. 

“Excuse me,” you muttered as you tried to walk between them, though you were less talented at knowing just where they were about to step than they were. A few looked up at you with furrowed, irritated brows, others ignoring you completely. 

It was only when you made it to the pantry that you heard the sound of your name. You spun around, finding Isby staring at you from across the room, her large ears pulled back. 

“Isby,” you said, trying to soften her hardened eyes. Her hands were on her hips, her little feet stomping towards you as you smiled. “Good morning.”

“Miss L/N never said she would not be returning,” she grumbled, glaring up at you. “Isby had to call on the Headmaster, I was so worried.”

The regret over forgetting about Isby hit you instantly like a cannonball to your chest. In all honesty, you thought she’d be happy not to have so many students piling into the kitchens so often. 

“I’m sorry, Isby,” you said, trying your best to show your sincerity. “I didn’t know you’d worry.”

“Professor Dumbledore put Isby in charge of your care in the kitchens. Isby takes her job very seriously,” she said, crossing her arms. 

“Everythings all right now,” you said, though you weren’t sure how truthful that really was. “Professor Dumbledore had it taken care of.”

“Taken care of,” she said under her breath, her large eyes darting across the floor. She glanced up again, her ears shifting back to their normal position. “Isby has forgiven you.”

You smiled warmly, crouching down to meet her at eye level. “Thank you, Isby, for everything.”

“Miss L/N must stay out of trouble,” she began, briefly looking around at the other house elves, still bustling around the room. “Isby must go.”

You stood back up, watching as she disappeared in the pandemonium, which now appeared more like a hive of busy bees than house elves. 

You gathered a few eggs, a bowl, and a pastry for later, wrapping it up in a napkin before making yourself a small space at one of the house elf sized tables, smiling at the memory of sitting there with James. You didn’t let yourself think of it long, focusing instead on the task at hand. 

Setting the bowl in front of you, you thought of Regulus as you cracked the first egg above it, imagining Sirius running towards him through the Hogsmeade bustle. You peered down, watching as it splattered against the sides. You hummed to yourself, searching for any discernable shape or pattern that you recognized from your textbooks, though at first glance, you noticed nothing. Maybe ovomancy wasn’t for you. 

After a few more minutes of trying to make out some sign, you gave up, waving your wand and getting rid of the first egg. The kitchen was still loud, filled with the hissing sound of sausages and eggs frying followed shortly by their smell, the oven doors opening and slamming shut over and over, the pitter-patter of a hundred little feet flying across the stone floors. You rested your elbows on your knees, your head falling into your hands as you tried to shut it all out. With your eyes closed, you tried to think of Regulus again, this time imagining something you hadn’t seen. 

Regulus, his black hair slicked neatly back, his grey eyes like storm clouds, a color you could see even from passing him in busy corridors, his pale arm, held out as a wand touched his skin, an inky mark creeping its way onto the surface, the same one you had seen in the Prophet, suspended in the sky above the scene of a wicked crime.

Quickly, you opened your eyes, grabbing the second egg and cracking it a ways above the bowl. It splattered in the same manner, hitting the bottom before moving up the sides like waves in a tempest, nearly spilling over the lip. Your keen eyes stared as it settled, shifting back and forth before slowing, the clear white marbling in the broken yolk. Just when you thought it was finished, the deep yellow began to swirl once more, refusing to remain stagnant as its predecessor had. You held your breath without meaning to, your jaw clenching as it took a new shape, forming with other wayward blobs to create new masses, separating from others in the opposite manner. In a few seconds, you could see the picture it was forming, distinct against the white of the egg. An hourglass. 

With a quivering hand you flicked your wand again, the egg disappearing and leaving the bowl clean. You could feel your breath shuddering too, your eyes staring blankly at the kitchen in front of you. Without much thought, you grabbed your pastry, forgetting the bowl as you walked from the kitchen out into the basement corridor, your mind mostly blank. You felt half asleep as you made your way back to the common room, your feet feeling as if you had heavy, metal boots on, like the ones on the knights in the Entrance Hall. You weren’t sure you had gotten anything clearer in your entire life, and for whatever reason, it frightened you beyond belief. 

When you made it back to the common room there were only a few students mulling about, their curious eyes following you as you went over to the table where your things were piled, taking them into your arms before you flew up the stairs to the girl’s dormitories. Ever since the public display of near-violence between James, Sirius, and Zephyr, it was difficult to shake your housemates' newfound interest in you. Still, you were thankful no one seemed to be brave enough to press you on it, ironically enough. You likely had James to thank for that. 

Your roommates were awake when you slammed the door behind you, the pastry still clucked between a napkin in your hand. They all stared at you, each with the same perplexed expression. 

“Where’ve you been?” Lily asked, folding up a jumper to put back into her trunk. 

“Studying,” you said, motioning with your books. You looked down into your other hand, noticing the pastry had been all but decimated. “Went to the kitchens, too. Do you want this, Dorcas?”

She smiled, waltzing over to take the pastry from you, not phased by the fact that it had been flattened. “This’ll hold me over,” she chuckled, taking a bite out of it. 

You dropped your books off at your desk before getting ready for breakfast, even though you had already done everything you needed to this morning. Your friends waited patiently as you idled in the lavatory, saying nothing as you paced the small room. You ran the faucet, just so it would sound like you were doing something rather than wasting their time. You hadn’t the mind to feel guilty about it, staring at your reflection in the mirror as if your eyes, backwards from the way the world saw you, held the answer of what you should do. With your thoughts a little less scrambled, you were able to reason that Sirius had not gotten a straight answer out of Regulus. It was likely his brother was still debating over what he should do, though just as it had been a week prior, Regulus’s time to decide was running out. 

You shut off the water, rubbing at the crease between your brows before facing your friends once again, your mind marginally clearer. 

“You didn’t see Sirius at all, did you?” Lily asked as you walked down to breakfast. 

“No,” you said, your mouth pulling to the side. “I hope he’s doing all right, or as good as he can be.”

“James won’t let him hide for too long,” said Lily, her voice suddenly brighter than yours, less weighed down. You didn’t know where she got her serenity from, but you wanted some of your own. 

Sirius was at breakfast, though he looked like he’d been run over by a pack of hippogriffs and then dunked head first into the Black Lake. There were deep purple bags under his eyes, bold against the sickly pallor of his skin. He was worse than you’d ever seen him before, almost as if he were deathly ill, and distinctly depressed. His countenance was no better than his looks, his shoulders rounded forward, his neck angled downward towards his plate, nearly empty save for the sausage and toast Remus had given him. He touched nothing, not even his tea. 

You, and surely your dormmates, were all itching to ask him the same question: how did it go? Though, no one dared to say a word about it. A few meaningless, hollow comments about classes and quidditch were thrown out just to break the tension a bit, but little else was said. It was probably just a victory they had gotten him down here, you realized, making it unlikely any would try and push their luck. 

“You should come to the library with us,” Lily said to the others as you all stood to leave the Great Hall. You had forgotten you had made plans with her to do so. “First thing after breakfast, Y/N. We need to start seriously preparing!”

“Who?” James asked.

Lily shrugged. “All of you.”

You knew what she was trying to do, though it didn’t seem like she was attempting to hide it too thoroughly. James looked to Sirius, though his eyes were far off, staring straight ahead as you left the hall. 

“You wanna go, Padfoot?” James asked.

Briefly, Sirius’s eyes drifted towards James, his mouth barely moving as he mumbled, “Sure.”

With Sirius’s blessing, that meant Remus and Peter would follow, or so you hoped. You all went back to the common room to get your things before going back down the library, your assumption being correct. Remus lugged more books in his bag than any of you, even Lily, who seemed to bring almost her entire eight-class course load. Peter seemed to obey only for Sirius’s sake, looking almost as upset as him as you found your places at one of the only free tables large enough for all of you to fit. The library was fairly full, just as it was every weekend, though the fact that you were nearing the end of term only made it more congested. The only reason you were likely able to get a table with eight chairs was due to Lily’s instance of getting there so early. 

Unconsciously, you found yourself sitting beside James, taking out your things from your bag without so much of a thought about your choice. As soon as you flipped open your advanced Astronomy textbook, the realization of his closeness sent a flurry of nerves through your stomach like a jolt of energy before it faded away. It was getting more difficult to force yourself away from him during casual moments, moments when you weren’t thinking about how you ought to act or where you should look. The longer you two were together, really together, the more you had to fight against it, even more so than you had before. It was if you floated to his side, pulled in by a gravitational force of blinding, warm light that seemed to radiate off of him at all times. As you attempted to continue jotting down your notes, hoping you were acting inconspicuous, you realized that he probably did the same, though you just hadn’t noticed, too caught up in the sight of him to recognize if you had walked closer or if he had beat you to it.  

At one head of the table, Sirius sat in a grumpy stupor, his eyes still agonized by heavy, drooping lids. He sat back in his chair, not bothering to look down at any of his school work, which you were sure had been piling up for him over the past week. You peeked at him out of the corner of your eye, your leg bouncing as you thought of a way to get James alone so you could pester him for details. 

Your quill hovered above your parchment as you decided what to do, giving in to your first instinct after only a brief moment of deliberation. You scribbled something down in the margins, slanted to the right so that James could read it more easily. You glanced up, looking around at the rest of your friends. They all were fairly engrossed in their own work, other than Sirius and Peter, though neither were looking your way. Lily, the most important person to consider, was staring down into a giant, leather-bound book, her brows scrunched as she muttered the words so softly you couldn’t hear. 

Your eyes darted back towards James as you tapped the tip of his shoe with yours, trying not to lose yourself in the picture of his face, downturned towards his own work, his lips barely parted. His head perked up, turning towards you as his glasses slipped down his nose. Instantly, your eyes shot back down to your own paper, inching it closer to him. He took your meaning immediately, reading your parchment as you went back to pretending to study. 

Follow me in five minutes.

After a few seconds you folded up the parchment, sticking it into your textbook before closing it. You stood, taking your copy of Advanced Astronomy into your arms before heading towards the stacks. You only got a few steps away before Marlene turned around, watching you leave. 

“Where’re you going?” she asked, whispering. 

Remus and Dorcas’s head popped up as well, though Lily stayed entirely occupied, lost in her reading. 

“I have to cross reference something on pulsars, you know, the type of neuron star that—”

“Forgive me for asking,” she mumbled, turning back around. 

You spun on your heels before anyone could see your triumphant smirk, all too pleased with yourself as you escaped into the long rows of tall shelves, twisting and turning like a labyrinth in the wide space. You didn’t go far, ducking away beside one of the large, pointed windows, the morning light washing the dark wood with golden light. You leaned against the shelf, your fingers tapping against your book as you watched a few students pass, all quiet as a mouse. 

It was definitely less than five minutes when James found you, or rather you found him, stepping out into the aisle as you watched him whizz by. Any other time you would have chastised him for it, though you knew it was the last thing he needed. 

“James,” you whispered, catching his wrist. 

As your hand slipped away he grabbed it, holding you as he swiveled his head around to see if anyone was watching. 

“We need to talk,” you said, “but not here.”

He nodded, letting go of your hand as you walked as quickly as you could without it reasonably counting as a jog to the furthest, most undisturbed corner of the library. It was the same place you had gone after Zephyr reappeared in Gryffindor Tower, when James had guarded you so fiercely you couldn’t believe you didn’t realize he was in love with you. 

“What happened with Regulus?” you asked, your voice still hushed. 

James’s face fell, his expression so grim it made your chest ache. “He talked to him, but he doesn’t think it made any difference.”

Your heartbeat quickened, dread mixing with the awful concoction already churning in your stomach. “What did he say? What did Regulus say?”

“I think the main gist of what Regulus said was ‘butt out’ and ‘fuck off’,” James answered, his expression pained as he imagined it. 

“He didn’t seem unsure, or like he might not go through with it?” you asked, some of your hope drifting away. You longed to grasp it, force it back towards you where you could hold to it as long as possible. 

“Padfoot didn’t say much,” he sighed, running a hand through his curls, dark in the low light. “But I’m not entirely sure I trust him, either. He’s never had a clear head when it comes to his brother.”

You thought for a moment, your textbook held tightly against your chest. “Did he offer a place for him to stay— with him, in London?”

“They already live in London.”

“You know what I mean,” you said, staring at him expectantly. 

“I don’t know,” he muttered, shaking his head. His hands came down to his hips, his head slumped forward for a beat. “We’re just lucky he’s out with the living right now. I didn’t exactly push him for answers,” there was a clip to his tone, though you knew it wasn’t because of you. 

Sirius was your friend, but he was James’s best friend. You knew he had a way of taking things on, carrying burdens even if it wouldn’t lighten the others load. It was one of his best traits, something that made you love him even more, though his innate dramatism did not help him in hiding it. 

You set your book down on the table, stepping back in front of him so he had to look you in the eyes. He did without question, his irises shaded by his lashes, heavy in your quiet corner. You stroked his cheek, warm to the touch, frowning all the while. You hated every bit of all of it; the immeasurable amount of pain Sirius was feeling, the uncertain fate of Regulus, and James’s breaking heart. While not your top priority, you tried to soothe him the best you could, running your fingers along his hairline. 

“We can help him,” you said, just loud enough for him to hear. You tried to think of something else to say to ease some of his worries, though all you could settle on was an ill-fated statement that you knew he would argue against. You said it anyway. “It’s no different than the way it was before, when he thought Regulus was lost.”

“I’m not sure he ever thought he was lost,” he said with a sadness trembling in his voice, his eyes fluttering shut. He brought his hand up to rest over yours, keeping it in place. When he opened his eyes again, he let out a short, worn breath, laced with the unmistakable sting of sorrow. “I think he always thought there was a chance…that maybe one day Regulus would, I don’t know, change his mind.”

Your face crumbled, though you caught yourself, forcing a brave front, even if you knew James would be able to see through it all too easily. It was always worth a try, if it were for him. 

“There's still a chance. Like you said, you don’t know what really happened. Who knows how Sirius is interpreting it,” you paused, your eyes drifting from his. “This morning I went down to the kitchens before anyone else woke up— I couldn’t sleep. I tried ovomancy, y’know, the egg thing?” 

You looked back up, James nodding. 

“I thought of Regulus, just to see if I really could predict his future, or at least get a reading,” you continued, taking a breath that shuddered in your lungs. “I saw an hourglass, which seems pretty self explanatory.”

A flash of horror crossed James’s face, though you pressed your palm tighter to his face, cupping his jaw. 

“No, no, James, this is good. It means he hasn’t decided. If he was certain, or fairly certain, why would time be running out? It would already be out.”

Horror was replaced by realization, realization by a faint glimmer of hope. He pressed his lips to yours quickly, pulling away before you could even register what he had done. He broke out into an astonished smile as he looked back at you, laughing quietly to himself. 

“You’re amazing,” he breathed. “Bloody amazing.”

You shook your head at him, using the freedom of your newly released hand to brush a curl behind his ear. “It’s nothing, really—”

“It’s everything,” he said, grabbing your hand to cradle it against his chest, fully enveloped between his. “When are you going to realize how gifted you are, how special this is? I’ll prop you up forever if I have to— actually, I’ll do it even if you do realize— but you should start giving yourself some credit,” his voice dripped with honeyed warmth, his words rushing out in a low voice fighting against exultation. 

You didn’t know what to say, forgetting how to speak, though you didn’t need to. James was off again, still caught up in the excitement of your discovery. 

“You have to tell Sirius. You don’t mind, right? You don’t have to, but I think we should—”

“Of course, I will,” you interrupted. “I didn’t know when it would be the right time. He’s very…fragile right now.” It felt odd to say, wrong to call Sirius such a term. He was strong, almost impossibly so, though there was no other word you could think of that would adequately capture what you saw today. You couldn’t blame him, either. If it were you, you would’ve been a heap on the floor years ago, absolutely useless. 

James’s thumb rubbed across the back of your hand, gnawing at his lip as he considered what you said. “You’re right. I’ll find a good time to do it, maybe tonight. For now, could you keep it between us? I think he’d be pretty peeved if everyone else knew before him.”

“Of course,” you said with a single nod.

After a beat James reached up to cradle your face, kissing your forehead before letting out a single, small laugh into your skin. “My girl’s hot and she can predict the future.”

You scowled at him, hitting his arm softly. “It's not a prediction, it’s a reading,” you corrected, your ears burning up. You hoped he couldn’t feel the heat in your face, though you were fairly certain that he could, and that he was probably reveling in it. 

“And brilliant,” he said, still beaming. He pressed the back of his hand onto the side of your neck with a smirk, sending a shiver down your spin. “You are hot, though. Was it something I said?”

“I think I have dragon pox. It’s highly contagious. You better get away from me or you’ll catch it,” you said, your voice flat. 

He laughed, a bit too loud for the library, though you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. His eyes shined, some of his earlier worries gone, at least for the moment. You were happy to have done it, even if you knew it wouldn’t last. 

“You’re worth a trip to Poppy’s.”

He leaned in, kissing you a bit longer this time, dragging it out just to the edge of something more, something fuller. When he stepped away he still looked impish, motioning for you to follow as he slipped back into the winding shelves towards the main aisle. You grabbed your textbook to follow him, shaking your head. 

☆  ─────── ₒ*ₒ☾   ☽ₒ*ₒ ───────  ☆

You guessed James must have found a time to tell him, because all throughout breakfast on Monday, Sirius kept stealing glances your way. You weren’t sure if he was trying to hide it or not, though every once in a while you’d catch him peeking up from his food, his eyes darting over to your face before returning back to something else in a quick, flashing movement. After the first couple of times you turned away from him, allowing him to stare at you without the embarrassment of being caught, though you weren’t sure it was even possible for you to embarrass Sirius. Like James, it took true humiliation to knock away his front of pure confidence. 

After breakfast, Remus and Peter went off to do who-knows-what, leaving you and Dorcas to go back up to the tower while the rest went to a double period of Arithmancy, a subject you were quite happy to never have taken. The two of you sat on the overstuffed red sofa by the fireplace, surrounded by other sixth and seventh years with free periods doing the same thing as yourself. It was warm enough that a fire was unnecessary, its melody of crackles and pops strangely absent from the usual noises of the common room. Now, it was simply hushed voices or a stray laugh, the scratching of quills and the turning of pages. 

As you did your homework, the sounds began to wear on you, mixing with one another in a low cacophony of jagged, disjointed parts to an awful song. You fiddled with your quill, your jaw tight as your eyes bore holes into the page. You could feel your heart beginning to bang, harder and harder, against your chest. Soon, the air was suffocating, leaving you no other choice but to pop up from the sofa in a sudden jerk. 

Dorcas looked up at you, pushing her thick, curling hair from her face as she watched you gather your books. “What's wrong?’

“Nothing,” you muttered, glancing around you at the other students. A few were watching you, some of whom you knew quite well, though none brave enough to meet your eyes once you caught there's. The beating of your heart had not slowed, leaving you unconcerned with the curiosity of your classmates. Briefly, you wondered if you were going mad from stress. 

Your daze was only broken by Dorcas, who said your name as you began to walk away. She stood up, though you only shook your head, ducking out of the common room like a rabbit being chased by a fox. 

You didn’t need a crystal ball to predict what would happen in your future. “What's up with you? Why are you acting so weird? Is anything wrong?” The gentler questions would come from Lily, though the meanings would all be the same. It wouldn’t matter, though, because this time you could tell them. With Sirius in the know, the only silver lining was that for once, you didn’t have to keep secrets. 

Even so, you knew Sirius would be furious with you for meddling in his family life, in his life, using a form of magic he placed no weight into. While he was kind enough to keep his comments to mere jokes, you knew how he truly felt. He thought you were foolish for believing that you, who wasn’t even a Seer, could somehow gain any insight into the future. You also had a sneaking suspicion that fate (or at least the very probable chance that something would happen), terrified him to no end. He had already been dealt a bad hand, and you couldn’t blame him for raging against the idea that it all was set in the stars, that he had little control of what happened to him next. 

You agreed with him, at least in part, for one always had the power to change their decisions, to decide on a different course. But how often do people change their minds once they’ve started on a certain path? You didn’t know, and the uncertainty of the answer haunted you as you rushed through the corridors, your feet seeming to know where you were going better than you did. The walls faded into a blur of limestone pillars and carvings, the puffs of orange flames turning into streaks of vibrant color against the grey. 

You found yourself on the fourth floor, turning into the empty classroom you had frequented a dozen times before. You weren’t sure if you were planning on taking the mirror passage into Hogsmeade, hide away in its cavern, or stare into the mirror itself, though all of these choices were made moot when you saw Sirius standing in the room. His back was to you, staring into the mirror. As soon as you opened the door he turned around, his eyes widening. He fixed himself quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets as she sauntered closer to you, completely at ease. 

“Hey, L/N,” he drawled, though his mouth was missing the teasing smirk that so often went with that tone. 

“Hey,” you said, just barely getting the words out. He still looked sickly, only slightly better than yesterday. His hair was pulled back into a low, loose bun, strands sticking out in a state of dishevelment. Normally, it would have seemed suave on him, perfectly imperfect, though now it looked just as it would on anyone else: frowzy. “Bunking off?”

He shrugged, his shoulders falling in a heavy, dead movement. “Double period. It gets pretty boring after an hour and a half,” he said, sounding wearier the more he spoke. He looked down at his uniform dress shoes, polished and shining. “Didn’t know that breakfast food knew the future.”

You chuckled softly, meandering further into the room. “It’s not really the eggs that know, it’s just how they fall. I do all the heavy lifting.”

You were overjoyed to hear him laugh, even if it was strained. 

“Even though I don’t believe in any of that shite,” he began, a forced smile creeping on his lips, “thanks for not telling anyone else. You know how fucking fussy they can be.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m still too angry with you to pamper,” you joked. 

He raised his brows. “Then why’d you read my brother's future?”

“That was a favor to Regulus,” you said with a wave of your hand. “He owes me, but he doesn’t know it yet. One day I’ll make him buy me something nice and expensive, y’know, to call it even.”

You knew he was far too clever to miss what you were implying, though it’d take a lot to miss it. Regulus will come back to you. You weren’t even sure if you were that confident, though Sirius didn’t need to know. 

He rocked a bit on his toes, his head turning sharply away. His mouth fell, twisting into a doleful grimace. “I’ll pass on the message,” he mumbled, the words gritting between his clenched teeth. 

Your heart panged, your fingers tightening around the spine of your book. You knew you shouldn’t be joking about it, taking things so lightly. Your apologies rushed out, much like Marlene’s had, escaping you before you could stop them, “I’m— Merlin…I’m sorry, Sirius. I know that I shouldn’t have meddled in your life. I feel awful about it, really.”

He sighed, looking back at you once you were finished. “You’re unbelievable.” He shook his head, chuckling bitterly. “You’re a real fucking guilt machine, aren’t you?”

His anger all seemed to flow inward, absorbed into his own chest before any of it could reach you. You watched his face distort again, his brows angled and pinched. 

“What?” you asked, taking a hesitant step towards him, just to test the waters. 

He was still chuckling, though it was sour, ugly in the air. “Meddle all you want, Y/N, I don’t care about any of it. I fucked with you for how long?” He motioned to you, letting his hand drop against his leg. “I was a dick, and you keep forgiving me. I’m a dick to everyone and somehow none of you will leave me alone,” his volume rose, exasperated as he continued on. 

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, coming to stand only a foot away from him. “Stop it, Sirius. This is— you’re not thinking clearly. We’re your friends, we understand. You don’t have to be happy-go-lucky all the time.”

“Why aren’t you upset with me about Marlene? What about that?” he asked, trying to egg you on. 

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. “She’s over it, so there’s no reason for me to hold a grudge on her behalf. I know I wouldn’t want her to, if it were me.”

“We both know she’s not over it,” he muttered, entirely different from how he was a moment ago. He was smaller now, whatever had been building within him settling to a low, ruminating simmer.

“It’s fine, Sirius. It's a teenage romance. By the summer she’ll be good as new, and probably dating someone else,” you said, hoping your words were true. 

He didn’t speak for a long moment, sucking on his teeth while his eyes ran along the floor. You waited patiently, studying his tortured expression. 

“James really loves you, you know. It’s disgusting,” he whispered with no humor despite his clear attempt at jest. 

You filled your lungs with air, slowly letting it out. “I know.”

“And I thought Lily was bad,” he said, chuckling a bit this time. His eyes, brilliantly grey, met yours. “When we’re alone I never hear the end of it.”

A smile twitched in one corner of your mouth, though your face was still dominated by a growing sadness. “Must be awful for you.”

He began to walk away, his steps slow and uncalculated, moving at his first instinct in no clear direction.

“With Lily it was all lovey-dovey, gushy stuff,” he mocked, sending a sharp pang through your nerves, though he couldn’t see, turned away from you. “I didn’t think it could get worse than that, but Merlin, was I wrong.” 

A strange feeling of relief washed over you, easing a flash of worry that somehow James’s obsession with Lily was greater than his for you. You felt guilty for it, though you couldn’t allow yourself the time to dissect the meaning.

Sirius laughed under his breath, his head bent towards the floor. It was another long pause before he continued, the ache in his voice poorly disguised through his whisper, “It’s the same way his parents are. I mean, they don’t go on and on about how in love they are with each other in front of me,” he let out a breathy laugh again. “But you can tell, when you look at them.”

Your feet might as well have been glued to the floor. If you wanted to move, you couldn’t, frozen in place as you listened to him. His voice was crushing, full of a pain so foreign to you that your mind could not wrap around it. 

“I don’t think he knows how lucky he is to have parents like that. He knows, in a way— it’s not hard when you have me as a comparison,” he faltered, clearing his throat. “I’m not sure my parents ever really loved each other. I can’t really imagine either of them loving anyone.” He stopped walking, his hand resting on one of the small, wooden desks. “I guess it’s not hard to understand why he’s good at it and I’m not. It’s so bloody easy for him. If he were anyone else I’d fucking hate him.”

Your mind reeled, wondering why he was choosing to tell you this. Perhaps it was self-retribution, you thought, for all the secrets of yours he somehow found out about. Still, even though he had acted poorly, even though he had been a bad friend, you didn’t know if you deserved to hear any of this. 

“You could go back there, you know,” you said, somehow finding your voice. It was small, but enough. “The Potter’s would have you back in a second, if you asked.”

He nodded, peeking over his shoulder. Your eyes met briefly before he looked away again. “Yeah, I know.”

“If you bought Marlene a butterbeer, she’d go out with you again,” you said, trying to force some lightness into your words. It seemed to have worked, for his shoulders shook in what you assumed to be a silent laugh. 

When he didn’t say anything, you continued, “I know I said she’ll get over it, and I wasn’t lying, but she doesn’t have to.” That seemed to catch his attention, his head picking up. “She still likes you, Sirius, but she’s also still a little livid. If you treat her like a normal boyfriend she’ll be head over heels in no time. You might have to…repair some damage, but it’ll work out, if you want it to.”

“If I want it to,” he repeated, an edge to his tone. 

You ignored it, nodding even though he couldn’t see. “Yeah, if you don’t drop her like you do with everyone else,” you said softly, trying to ease some of the harshness of your words. Still, you cringed as you said it. “I think it would be good for you, good for her, too. I really think that one day you might love her as much as James loves me. But even if you don’t, even if it doesn’t work out, at least you can say that you tried, that you gave it your best shot.”

You wondered if you were talking about Marlene or Regulus, though you weren’t sure it mattered. The point stood for both, whether Sirius liked it or not. 

“Can’t you just hex me again?” he said, finally turning around. His brows were raised, his face otherwise blank. 

“Maybe some other time,” you said, matching his expression. You studied him as he walked closer, passing you as if he was heading to leave. You spun around, wanting desperately to stop him, to keep him here just a little while longer, where he was forced to listen to you. “Did James tell you what I thought it meant, the hourglass?”

Sirius stopped, spinning back around. His face was dragged down, his eyes tired. “Yeah.”

“Then you know,” you began, your lingering sliver of hope for Regulus building back up again. “It means he isn’t settled, he’s undecided. Snape was right.”

His name made Sirius recoil a bit, as if his body was ridding itself of a mild poison. His jaw set, the rest of his body tensing. “If I promise to try, will you leave me alone?”

You couldn’t help your smile, not wide enough to show your teeth, but enough to show him that you were pleased. “I cross my heart.”

“You’ve got a deal, sister,” he said, whipping open the door and striding out, not looking back as it shut behind him. 

The bell tower rang, marking the end of second period. You had to go to History of Magic, though you were surely going to be late, given that your bag was all the way up in Gryffindor Tower. However, you still couldn’t help but turn around towards the mirror, drawn in by the image you knew you’d see. It wasn’t as if Professor Binns would notice your tardiness, anyway. 

Slowly, you walked towards it, tall and proud where it was sitting in the corner. The nearer you got, the clearer the image became, materializing like a ghost beside you. James was standing next to you, nearly pressing against your shoulder. He held the same bright smile that you loved the most, easy and entirely unforced. His hair was a mess of wild curls, barely tamed, wearing the jeans that always sent your cheeks ablaze. Every few seconds he would glance at you in the reflection, the happiest he could be, his own face blushing when he met your eyes. It was the same thing that you’ve seen for over a year, though now you knew it was real, more than just a fantasy. The only difference was your hands, each wearing a ring. 

☆  ─────── ₒ*ₒ☾   ☽ₒ*ₒ ───────  ☆

After classes on Tuesday, you and James retreated to the east side of the lake, too far for anyone to see anything other than two blurry dots, sometimes shifting amongst the grass. The transistor radio rested beside you, playing an acoustic song that you knew but James didn’t. You hummed along to the tune, your back against his chest as you gazed out across the water, the sunlight warm against your face. James kissed the side of your head, resting his cheek against you. 

You already told him about your conversation with Sirius, leaving out everything but his promise to try and get through to his brother. James was happy to have heard that, though you could still feel it in the way he carried himself, in the way he was playing with your fingers, that it had lifted very little weight from his worries. 

“I like this song,” you said when it changed to another, just as slow. “This DJ has good taste.”

The water lapped at the shallow shore, mixing with the fingerpicking, the soft accent of the man singing about love. 

“This one, I know,” James said, his voice rumbling against your back. 

You chuckled, twisting your head to look at him. “How cultured of you.”

He pouted at your teasing, his brows pinched as he reached up to touch the side of your face, feather light along your jaw. “Good thing I have thick skin, around you,” he grumbled, moving down to the side of your neck. His thumb brushed just under your chin, moving languidly over your throat. 

You buzzed, your head thrown back to rest against his shoulder. All your clever, biting jabs were forgotten, washed away by his mouth as he kissed the corner of your lips, then your cheek, then just beside your ear. 

By some miracle, you found your wit again, making a dissatisfied noise as your eyes shut. “Don’t be a tease.”

The back of your eyelids, orange from the light of the sun, were set in shadow as James chuckled, leaning down again. He kissed you, and the swell of love resounded like a thousand violins, all playing a single, sublimely beautiful note.

Chapter Twenty-Four

☆  ─────── ₒ*ₒ☾   ☽ₒ*ₒ ───────  ☆

Tag List: @floverisland @ilovejamespottersomuch @googie-jeon @tvnile @eli-com @lovelyteenagebeard

[felassan]

Neve's outfit just has such a great design!! the silhouette it has - iconic, delightfully Tevene. Neve's piece really reminds me of the feel and vibe of her DA: The Missing cover. In the background are the towers and streets of Minrathous, the city that is her home - including the iconic floating castle. with its white/pale blue light, shimmer and the impression of ice crystals the magic she is casting has, it looks like she's using one of her ice mage abilities. It's cool, even the chair she is sitting on has that diamond, rhombus (not sure if I'm describing this right, but hopefully you know what I mean ^^) kinda design Tevinter things tend to have. you can see it in like their doorways and windows and stuff. I love the unique design of her staff/wand, and in this painting it reminds me of a cane. as in like, you know, didn't Sherlock Holmes sometimes carry a stick or cane? like Hercule Poirot? that kind of vibe. fitting for a detective and private investigator. :) in one of the past trailers they talked about "hard-boiled detective stories", which on reflection now I feel can surely only be in reference to Neve! a lil touch of film noir.

In the background, spotlighted (as if by one of the spotlights from the floating castle) against the wall and looming over her, is the ominous shadow of another person, or entity. the staff they carry implies they are a mage. A random Venatori? A Venatori leader? she has had dealings with them in the past, they don't like her and in the gameplay reveal we can see that they basically want to kill her and her allies; as someone affiliated with the Shadow Dragons, she's opposed to them. this could represent that opposition (Venatori/Neve) and the threat that they pose.

there's something off-looking about the shadow though - Tevinter magisters and Venatori etc wearing robes and getups that give them startling outlines is nothing new, but still. their arms are too long (unsettling), and the one without the staff, though it could just be the fancy trailing sleeves and embellishments on the person's robe itself, is drawn in such a way as to resemble a claw or talon. something demonic-y. their arms are all spiky, the waist over-narrow and waspish. A corrupt[ed] magister? An ancient magister? A demon? some combination thereof? ^^ There is something about it which reminds me of the designs of figures like the Architect and Cory, and they were not the only members of their group. the demonic vibe and recent Venatori plot stuff in general also makes me think of the trapped demon sealed in the Catacombs beneath the city of Minrathous, as detailed in The Streets of Minrathous in Tevinter Nights, in which Neve appears. in that short, she prevents the Venatori from releasing the demon, but it's not dead or defeated. Also, the way in which it was described in that short was 😀 extremely worrying. whatever it is, it feels like Neve's art piece is giving a glimpse at what her storyline in the game might involve.

[source]

[osleeplessflowero]

Time for some conveniently timed romance with Dust! Oneshot Masterpost

*Notes - Gender Neutral Reader - A part of the Bad Sanses series - A little steamy this time. Nothing NSFW, but there is some making out..

tags/warnings: Forced Proximity, Biting

🔒Cornered🔒

"Alright, listen up." Nightmare said as he walked back and forth before your little lineup, each of you standing next to each other and waiting for him to speak further.

"I am only agreeing to start this little game because of Killer's insane amount of persistence. In order to make this little game of his fair, I will be casting a spell over the castle in order to temporarily disable your magical abilities such as teleportation and Checking for souls. This way you will naturally be able to hide and seek each other out. When the game is done I will remove my spell. Are we clear?" He comes to a stop before you all, looking over you and Killer who seem to be bouncing in place with excitement. The others look fairly neutral about this where they stand.

"crystal, boss! let's get this party started!" Killer cheers, already debating where his hiding spot should be, unless he is chosen as the seeker..

"Why you would want to play a children's game is beyond me. But, I couldn't care less, so do as you wish." He holds up his hand, magic forming around it before encasing the outside of the castle with a green glow. "It is done. I will be in my study, do not hide in there or my room. I will snitch."

You internally swear, because you'd decided on that earlier..oh well. You'll just find another space to hide.

"okay, who wants to seek?-" Killer is cut off by a series of "not it"s, frowning immediately. "no fair! you guys didn't give a warning or anything. whatevs, i'll do it. better get to hiding.." A menacing grin stretches across his face as he turns around to count, leaving the three of you to split up and find a good hiding place.

Hearing Killer's loud counting at the end of the hall, you take in your surroundings and try to pick a good hiding place with excitement. You open the door to one of the storage closets, only to be met with a pair of red and blue eyelights..

"Shit, sorry Dust- damn, I need to find somewhere quick.." You look around quickly as Killer reaches the lower single digit numbers.

"it's okay, just get out of here before-" He's cut off by Killer announcing the last number, and you quickly shove him back to enter the room with him and lightly close the door behind you hoping it didn't make too much noise. You look up as the skeleton hiding with you recovers from bumping into the shelf behind you both, apologizing quickly to him and backing up.

"it's fine, don't worry about it." He reassures you, the two of you listening intently as you hear commotion outside.

"You have to be really careful finding spots to hide in here..he's memorized almost all of them by now." You furrow your brows as you whisper, hearing a chuckle leave the skeleton behind you.

"i know. dude's a hide and seek fanatic. eh, at least it's fun for us. sometimes it's good to play games like this, even if we're considered way too old for 'em."

"I don't think you're ever too old for hide and seek." You turn back to him with a smile. He nods in agreement, pausing for a second when he hears a door open and close abruptly in the distance.

"if you run, you might be able to find another spot." He glances briefly back at the objects sitting in boxes behind you both.

"Nah, it's too late for that now. He'd catch me immediately if I left." You lean your back on the door, listening carefully for Killer outside. Dust opens his mouth to reply but hears the sound of something beginning to tip over and fall. He reaches out his hand to stop it, only to remember his powers have been disabled, and you quickly pull him towards you so the group of boxes doesn't hit him. You pause as you listen to the noises outside, Killer seeming to walk past with a few chuckles here and there as he looks into different rooms. Thank god he didn't hear..

"i'll find you sooner or later!" He disappears down the hall, and you let out a sigh of relief, turning towards the skeleton who is..rather close to you right now. His hands are resting on each side of your head where he'd steadied himself after you pulled him, his eyelights staring at you in slight shock as he realizes. You feel heat rush to your face.

"Shit, Dust, I'm sorry- I-I just didn't want you to get hurt so I pulled you out of the way and now we're um..we're in a bit of a predicament, huh?" You smile awkwardly, hoping that the darkness around you both isn't making your flushed face too visible. But considering his eyelights are natural flashlights..you have a feeling he already knows..

"it's okay." He speaks softly, sending shivers down your spine. "i'm not gonna be mad at you for helping me out. ..do you want me to move?"

"I.." You pause, your face growing much warmer. In truth, you don't mind this scenario all that much..being close to him and all. However his eyes being solely on you has you a bit flushed..butterflies appearing in your stomach.

Dust's face flushes within the shadows of his hood, him seeming to already know the answer.

"we haven't had a lot of time together, huh?.. guess this is some pretty damn convenient timing. albeit a little awkward." He chuckles, and you turn to face him more directly.

"Yeah..I'm sorry about that. But at least we can now..right?" You smile sheepishly, removing your hand from one of his arms after realizing it's still holding it.

"..yeah. it'll uh..probably be a while before he finds us.." He trails off, unable to break his stare from you. Slowly, his more awkward demeanor shifts, and a smirk makes its way onto his face catching you off guard. "you wanna..find a way to pass the time?"

Oh man. Oh shit this is indeed happening right now- Your face burns as you rest your arms at your sides, looking up at him. So unfair that he's towering over you right now..

"I-I mean if you want to, I wouldn't mind- I mean it's not like I would mind to begin with because you're really cool and is it hot in here or is it just y-" He cuts your rambling off by pressing a kiss against your lips, silencing you. You don't seem to mind this, raising your arm and placing them around his neck, pulling him a little closer to you.

His kisses start soft..but then the lack of attention begins to get to him..and they grow more desperate, at least on his end. He bites your bottom lip gently, sliding his glowing tongue into your mouth when you permit it. He takes a short break after a while so you can catch your breath, leaning down to your neck and ensuring it's exposed enough for him as he speaks. You feel a chill as his breath hits you.

"do you have any idea what you do to me?.." You hold your hand up to your mouth to ensure you stay quiet as he presses kisses against your neck, stopping at one space in particular before looking up at your expression. He grins to himself when he sees your flushed state, lightly biting down near your shoulder and leaving a mark.

"Dust, he could find us-" You whisper shakily as he returns to meet your gaze, wiping some bright purple equivalent of saliva away from his chin.

"don't worry about it." He leans forwards, kissing you again to keep you quiet as Killer passes by once more. "it's my turn to spend some time with you for a bit..please..let me have this. even just for a little while."

You furrow your brows, pressing a kiss to his cheek and hugging him tightly. "Okay. I don't mind having some time alone with you..though just know you can hang out with me anytime, okay? Come see me later..we could have a sleepover, just you and me." You smile, the skeleton sharing it before leaning back in.

"damn it, why can't i find those two? i found you easily, horror!" Killer crosses his arms, trying to think of where you both could've possibly hid.

"that's because i wasn't trying." Horror says nonchalantly, leaning against one of the walls with a grimace as he watches the shorter skeleton pace back and forth. In truth, he already knew where both of you were. He wasn't about to snitch, though. For your sake, and because he wasn't about to help Killer with anything.

"i mean, fair i guess. but they've gotta be around here somewhere. just gotta think..i checked the bedrooms..we can't go in nightmare's spaces..we already decided we wouldn't go outside..hmm. i'll check the entrance hallway again-"

You both break yet another kiss, breathing heavily as you smile at one another.

"Wow, you are..really bold when you aren't shy." You let out a little laugh, the skeleton sharing the action.

"you bring out different sides of me, 's all." He presses a kiss to your forehead, giving you some space as the door knob begins to shake. He quickly moves you behind him into the darkness, motioning for you to hide.

"aHA! found you, dust!" Killer grins proudly, tagging the other skeleton's shoulder. "now it just leaves Them.."

"better get looking then, yeah?" He watches Killer walk out of the closet, before turning back to you with a grin. You raise a brow at him, confused, before he holds up one of his fingers to his teeth and closes the door. You lean back in your spot on the floor, feeling your face burn hotter than a thousand suns.

You take a few minutes to reflect. You really need to spend some more time with Dust..you'll ensure that he never feels left out ever again. A determined look crosses your face before you lift your hand up to your neck, your face flushing when you realize his bite mark is still there. Damn it, Dust! You do your best to cover it.

"ugh, i can't find them anywhere. i give up.. HEEEY- YOU WIN THE GAME, COME OUT!" Killer shouts, causing the older skeleton to wince. "sorry, horror."

You exit the closet with a smug smile, Killer staring at you exasperatedly. "what?! you were in the same spot? no fair!" He puts his hands on his hips.

"There's nothing in the rules against hiding with someone else." You stick your tongue out, hearing Dust snicker in the background.

"well, whatever. i'll go tell nightmare to remove his spell." Killer waves you off, walking off in search of Nightmare's office. You and Dust share a glance before you walk over to Horror, giving him a side hug since you hadn't earlier in the day.

"Hey, where'd you hide?" You smile up at him, Dust taking a sip of a drink he got from who knows where.

"i just hid in my room under the bed. was a wonder i could even fit under there." He chuckles, before looking over you both. "you two have fun?"

Dust chokes on his drink somehow, spitting it out and coughing. You laugh awkwardly, playfully nudging his shoulder. "I don't know what you mean!"

"mhm. thought so. i'm gonna go take a nap, this shit wore me out. you two uh..do whatever." He messes up your hair, walking off. Well, now the two of you are left flushed in the hallway..

The spell over the castle is lifted, and before you can get a word out, Dust pulls his hood completely shut and shortcuts to his room. You simply smile at where he stood, deciding you'd go check on him later.

[summerlovingbaby]

shopping spree

The stroll around Hogsmeade was pleasant, if not a bit cold for Y/N’s liking. Remus told her to wear a sweater, but she didn’t want to ruin her outfit. She wasn’t gonna ask one of the boys because then not only would they be cold, but she would have proved Remus right. That she did need a sweater, and Y/N was nothing if not stubborn.

The mug of butterbeer defrosted her fingertips, and warmed her throat and stomach when she swallowed it, and she knew that they would be leaving soon anyway, James sluggish tread and Sirus’s frequent eyerolling was enough to tell her that. That, and they were walking back to Hogwarts, stopping mostly at stores to peer through the windows or to humor eachother. James buying Remus and obsinly large chocolate bar that was mostly supposed to be a gag gift, but with as much as Remus ate chocolate it would be helpful.

Y/N walked ahead of the group. The butterbeer she drank made quick work to energize her, not to mention the handful of gummy candy she bought at the store that she chewed on as she walked. Not to mention she was excited that she had the evening off with all her boys, no quidditch, no studying, no interruptions. Just her and the boys she deighned to spend her time with.

She almost started skipping until she saw a flash of yellow in a store window, she stopped suddenly in her tracks and turned on her heels, speedwalking to the store as fast as she could without slipping in the mud, and pressed her face as close to the window that she could get without touching it, her breath fogging up the glass. 

James couldn’t help but smile at the sight, Y/N nearly skipping along the path until she came to a skidding halt to stare at something at a store window, hunched over like a kid at the candy counter. He knew she was probably blushing, it didn’t take alot to make her blush, a simple kiss on the cheek, or holding hands, or calling her pretty was enough to make her glow. Sirius who held James hand was poised to follow when James drug him to stand behind Y/N at the store window, Remus trailing behind them, not wanting to be touched, his skin still raw from the recent full moon.

Sirius smiled at her outfit, though simple, it was pretty, though he was sure that she could make a paper  bag look couture. She was wearing a denim midi skirt that stopped mid calf, combat boots with ribbons for laces and a cropped yellow tank top. Her lips were shiny with black lip gloss and her hair was done up in pigtails tied together with a pink ribbon she stole from Remus.

“ Look at that dress it’s gorgeous!” she exclaimed, pressing her head against the glass, her forehead making imprints.

James peaked over her shoulder, standing on his tiptoes to see. Sirius squatting down to meet her eye line to see. The only thing they could see was a ghastly looking bright pink dress that nearly took up the whole window display. Remus was sure that it was heavy enough that the mannequin would collapse under it’s weight if magic wasn’t holding it up. It was covered in large chunky mismatched crystals and layers and layers of tulle.

Remus knew that wasn’t the dress that caught her eye. It was a dress in the center of the store, he had to slightly raise his head to see it, peaking out behind the pink monstrosity someone called a dress. It was a simple yellow dress, that draped off a hanger, the fabric was interlaced with gold glitter, making the dress seem like the sun, even in the fluorescent lights.

Remus angled their heads so they could see the dress too, and they were immediately smitten.

“ Go try it on,” Remus encouraged.

“ No, we’ve been out too long, and you’re tired, let’s go back to the castle,” she said tugging on his sleeve.

“ Go try it on, it’ll only take a minute,” James said pushing her through the door.

It didn’t take much convincing as she scurried through the store, snatchin the yellow fabric from the hanger as a attendant ushered her to a dressing room. The boys finding a seat near a wall of floor to ceiling windows.

Moments later, she emerged from the window, looking like the sun shining through a raincloud. As stunning as the dress looked on the hanger, it looked even better on her. The dress hanging off her shoulders and hugged her figure, especially her lower belly, which despite her insecurity with, it was James' favorite part of her. It glinted like pure gold in the light, and everytime she moved it sparkled.

“ You look beautiful,” Sirius said dreamly.

“ Thankyou,” she blushed.

“ So pretty,” Remus asked, “ You have to buy it,” he says.

Y/N shook her head sweetly, staring at herself in the mirror, adjusting the way the dress sat on her shoulders. “ No, its nearly 50 galleons,” she said, “ too expensive,” she chided.

Money was no issue for her boys, granted Remus didn’t have nearly as much as his counterparts, but had started a lucrative and illegal business a good bit of pocket change. James and Remus nearly had unlimited money, especially Sirus who could spend 400 galleons and not even notice.

“ Too expensive should not be in your vocabulary,” James clucked.

“ I’m not asking you to buy me this dress.”

“ Good thing you’re not asking,” James said still staring, particularly at her chest that was only covered with a thin layer of sheer fabric and satin.

A attendant clicked over, her heels chirping against the tile as she walked over with a shoebox, presenting it to Y/N.

“ These shoes go with the dress,” she said in a thick french accent.

Y/N opened the box, in the box was a short pair of pale yellow chunky heels, covered with the same fabric as the dress. Draped over the shoe, forming pleats, lined with strips of jewels that formed a large bow on the toe.

“ Ohh, try those on,” James says.

“ No, I’m not getting this dress,” she said, “ It’s very pretty, but I cannot justify spending this much on a dress.”

“ It’s imported from France,” Sirus spoke, explaining the price.

“ You’re imported from France,” she clicks back.

Remus, who seemed to busy to be glancing around  the store to engaged in the conversation, he pinged very suddenly behind Y/N, at a pale pink dress with a large bow on the front of it. “ You like that one,” he said, pointing to it.

“ Yes, it’s very nice, but it’s too expensive.”

“ I asked you if you liked it, not how much it cost,” Remus quipped.

“ I could unwrap you like a present,” James muttered, turning to the attendant. “ Can we have one of those dresses with the big bow at the front in size ___?” he smiled.

The attendant pursed her lips and gave him a tight nod, leaving to return moments later with the dress in that size and the accompanying heels and a handful of chunky jeweled earrings. James studdied the earrings in her open palm, talking in quiet voice with Remus about witch pair they liked, deciding on the the large ones, just because they could.

Sirius wandered off, somewhere Y/N couldn’t see, only to return moments later, while Y/N was begging James to put the dress back on the rack, and return the jewelry and the shoes. Sirius stood next to Remus and James, a lacy black thong dangling off his pointer finger, a cheeky smile accompanying it.

Y/N looked at him with wide eyes and motioned quickly for him to put it back, only for him to reveal the matching bra draped over his other hand. The attendant noticed her obvious discomfort and motioned to the lingerie in his hands, “ If blue isn’t your preference it also comes in green, red and black,” she spoke.

“ Red,” all three boys said at the same time.

Y/N violently shook her head, “ No, you’re not buying anything. Lets just leave,”

“ If you let us buy you stuff we can leave.”

“ No we’re leaving now,” she said stomping to the changing room.

“ 7 things,” Sirius suggested.

“ No things,” she yelled from the changing room.

“ 8 things?” James said.

“ Zero!” she said, flinging open the curtain to search for the hanger for the dress/

“ 10?” Remus shrugged.

“ No, no, no!” she exclaimed, she saw sirius eyeing a dress with an inlay of diamonds and finally came to a resolution. “ Fine, I will get the yellow dress and the one with the bow and the shoes, but no jewelry,” she said, snatching the bow dress from his hands.

“ One necklace,” James added.

“ And one necklace that I don’t need, and the..” she leaned close to them to whisper something quietly, “and the painties,” her face going pale when each odf the boys had a new pair of lingerie dangling on their fingers. Remus, a pretty silk yellow slipdress, and James a bright red teddy.

“ Fine,” she exclaimed out of nothing but embarrassment, snatching the stuff from them and stomping over to the counter.

[cherryfennec]

Quickly wrote a long overdue summary of the Bad End AU Prologue that I can send to people if they ever ask me about the plot. Ahem!

THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR PAPER MARIO 64, PAPER MARIO TTYD AND SUPER PAPER MARIO.

The Prologue:

The story begins following the first Paper Mario game in the series where Bowser originally obtains the Star Rod. During the final battle between Mario and Bowser, Peach watches as her hero in red starts to loose to the Koopa King, due to not being able to match the Star Rods accumulated power. She gets a chance to make a wish to the stars, however instead of wishing for the Star Rods magic to be nullified (like in the original game), she instead wishes for her and Mario, who is at the brink of Game Overing, to be taken to safety immiediately. The heroes proceed to stay low during his recovery, planning how to stop Bowser who continues his evil deeds unbothered for now.

After this we skip to the events of the second game in the series, The Thousand Year Door. Just like in the canon, Peach invites Mario to search for the hidden treasure of Rogue Port. Due to the rumors, she believes that whatever they find behind the legendary sealed Door can help them defeat the now Star Powered Bowser. Mario of course accepts.

The plot continues similarly to the original game plot, up until Chapter 4 that is. Mario proceeds to get his name and body stolen by Doo_liss, however in this timeline he and Vivian happen to be out of luck since the crows who originally had the information about the tricksters name are nowhere to be seen. Mario becomes trapped in Twilight Town, with his memory starting to fade as a side effect of turning into a shadow. Meanwhile Doo_liss leaves the town, with now 4 Crystal Stars in his pocket, and proceeds to exploit his new identity. Shortly after he disbands the party, simply because he has no care for the original quest.

He is later found by the two remaining Shadows, Beldam and Marilyn, who convince him to give up the Stars after peaking his curiosity about what's behind The Thousand Year Door.

With no more Mario around, the remaining stars are discovered with the map that was left in Doo_lisses pocket and Peach is ultimately used as a vessel for the Shadow Queen who has world domination plans of her own. Doo_liss also swears his loyalty to her, alongside the remaining Shadow Sisters, since he doesn't want to get on the bad side of someone who could end him right then and there when he can just follow some orders when summoned once in a while and use the rest of his time for having fun.

The Queen returns to the Mushroom Kingdom and proceeds to make a treaty with Bowser, who returns the castle and the rule over Toads to her under a few conditions.

After this we do yet another skip, this time referring to the plot of the third game, Super Paper Mario. Count Bleck arrived as the castles doorstep, making a proposition to the Queen of The Mushroom Kingdom. He promises an artifact of great power that could destroy whole worlds, known as the Chaos Heart by the Ancients. As an old demon herself she recognises the potential of gaining it and agrees help summon it.

With little trouble to convince Bowser to marry her, the ceremony is held and The Chaos Heart appears as planned. There starts to be sudden big ruckus among the guests caused by unexpected explosions around the altar of unknown origin. Before anyone could however react, someone steals the ancient artifact and dissapears without a trace.

The thief is seen again after some time, now looking different than before as well as acting rather off with talking to seemingly air and going from being able to fulfill certain tasks to being unable to do them mere seconds later. He is recognised by Bowser as Marios brother, much to Doo_lisses annoyance.

One day the thief he just started hanging around The Mushroom Castle before being ultimately accepted as a part of the main group of evil, as uncooperative as he can be, with the Queen hoping she can one day turn him into a loyal servant or take what's rightfully hers.

The General Description of The Current Plot:

The current events of the AU revolve around the group of villains, that the main four has now become, trying to take over the rest of the land and other Kingdoms, inconveniencing and eliminating their enemies, finding artifacts of power as well adapting to the current reality. Unfortunately their plans tend to get inconvenienced, or even foiled, by their own faults such as overestimating their own abilities, being stubborn and unable to cooperate effectively often and just not getting well alongside eachother in general. In other words: hijinks ensue!

Main Events of The Story: TBA

[empressgeekt]

Transformers ONE/Frozen Crossover - Au summery - The Energon King Au

Okay, so this is a total impulse post. based of this post i found while browsing. Thank you so much @karioke13 for this idea. Now let's get on with the summery!

We start with a young Orion and Dion (D16), or as he preferred to be called, Dee, they were the Princes of Iacon, a small kingdom in the north of cybertron. Dee the eldest was born with the surprising ability to generate energon crystals on his own. A royal gift that hadn't been seen in so long it was thought to be myth. Energon crystals themselves form in the winter when the natural pools and rivers freeze over, but to make it out of nothing was something so powerful and rare, that even the king and queen, Megatronus and Solus were out of their league when it comes to understanding. Of course they didn't worry about it at first, Dee seemingly had good control over his abilities.

Until one night, where the brothers snuck out of their berths to play in the throne room. It was a simple night of fun, making Energon ball fights, building energon snow forts, and of course building an energonmech by the name of Bee. That innocent night however ended when Dee slipped and accidentally struck Orion with his abilities, causing part of the younger prince's helm to turn teal. In a panic to save their son, Megatronus and Solus rush both boys to the mountains, to meet with tribe of minicons, lead by Micronus, who cures Orion, but at the cost of the young mech's memories of magic. The elderly minicon warns Dee about how his abilities will only grow and that fear will be come his enemy if he doesn't learn to control them. Megatronus and Solus close the gates to the Iacon palace, and keep Orion away from his brother, until Dee learns to control it. Of course separating the brothers, does nothing for them in the long run.

Meanwhile, Little Elita and Jazz, two orphans of the energon harvesters in the mountains get separated from the rest of there group and lost in the woods. They see Dee's energon trail and follow it to the minicon tribe, where they are promptly adopted by a cat minicon named Ravage.

Back with the royal family. Orion's rendition of "Do You Want to Build an Energon Man?" happens, the boys grow up separate, Orion becoming book dependent and Dee becoming a glove addict, and the king and queen die under mysterious circumstances. Everything remains at a standstill, until Dee comes of age and his coronation rolls around. He's dreading a day out in public, while Orion is relishing it. Of course the young prince wakes up late, with drool all over his pillow, but he's out of the castle first chance he gets, and bumps into a princess from Eukaris, Airachnid. The two seem to hit it off, however, what Orion doesn't know is that Airachnid has a deal with Sentinel, the duke of rustytown ("It's RustleTin!"), for her to swoon one of Iacon's princes, in order to get better trading deals for both their kingdoms. Their plan actually seemed to be going perfectly, Airachnid getting Orion to agree to a proposal that very night.

Orion is so happy with how much of a fairytale the day had turned out to be, finding the love of his life and finally being allow outside of the palace walls. It's the first time in forever that he's actually had time with his brother and people, and when Dee doesn't share his excitement over his engagement it's crushing. He's had enough of his brother shutting him out and corners Dee, making the elder brother accidentally reveal his powers, and sentinel slips on the energon crystals, while the newly crowned king makes a run for it. Dee doesn't realize it, but he crystalizes the entire ford and it drastically alters Iacon's climate, the temperature dropping dramatically. Orion feels guilty and goes after his brother, leaving Airachnid in charge of Iacon.

Dee runs off to the northern mountains, which are always frozen, and in this isolation he finally finds some semblance of peace. He misses his brother, but experimenting with his powers really taking it to the next level is so much fun that he forgets his pain. However the first thing he makes is a energon man resembling the one he and orion made as sparklings. He creates a large energon palace for himself, rips of his coronation cape and crown, creating new ones from his powers. He doesn't see the energonmech walk off by itself.

Orion struggles through out his journey, the sudden winter makes crazy weather happen, and after falling into a river his own coronation cape freezes. By some miracle he stumbles on to the a trading post, "Maccadam's Wandering Trading Post and Sauna". Inside he buys better insulators for himself, and Meets Elita. Now grown up, she and Jazz work as independent Energon crystal harvesters, a business that is not all that successful. Orion asks her about the northern mountains, and she grumply explains to him about how they "seemed like magic" while arguing over the price of some rust-sticks for jazz and climbing equiment, not being a people person she gets thrown out, much to her foster brother's disappointment.

Jazz: Should've let me handle it, Eli

Elita: Oh shut up, you can go with out you're treats for a few days, besides I just found us a free place to sleep tonight.

Orion buys their supplies, and after listening to Jazz singing, makes a deal with Elita to take him to the northern mountains. They leave that night in Jazz and Elita's old hover sled. Jazz is driving, while Elita and Orion get into an argument about his recent engagement in the back.

Elita: I'm sorry you just met her?! You can't marry someone you just met!

Orion: You can if it's true love!

Elita: It doesn't sound like true love.

Orion: How would know? You some kind of love expert?

Jazz: Eli? Nah, our mother? oh yeah.

Elita: And she would agree with me.

The sled gets attack by rabid turbofoxs, and ends up in the bottom of a gorge...Orion offers to pay for it, and Jazz convinces Elita to follow him to make sure he doesn't die so they can get that new sled. The mountain is oddly beautiful in its frozen state, and while walking through a very pretty grove, they come across a very young voice, a little mech made of frozen energon crystals.

Bee: yea it really is really beautiful isn't it? but its so blue, maybe a little color? Like red, or pink? How about purple? Oh wait no...Purple Energon, blrg!

Orion kicks Bee's head off and he and Elita play hot potato with it for a moment, with Jazz screaming in the background. Eventually however, after introducing himself as Bee, Orion recongizes the energonmech as the one he and Dee made as sparklings. Orion introduces himself and accidentally tells Bee that Elita and Jazz are both named Jazz. To their horror Bee goes one to tell them how he dreams of heat and summer. Elita thinks they have to tell him since this is like a witnessing a deathwish, but Orion and Jazz stop her.

Tensions mean while rise in Iacon, since Airachnid has to give away goods to make sure she plays her role, but it gets on Sentinel's nerves, after all they are both here for a profit and you won't make that when you give everything away. However before things could escalate, a patrol comes back with a ripped piece of Orion's coronation cape, and a search party is sent out.

Orion, Elita, Jazz and Bee finally make it to Dee's energon palace. Elita and Jazz upset about not being able to go inside at first because, "energon is our lives!" Dee is surprised to see Orion, happy, but still wants to keep his distance especially after learning he brought Bee to life. Orion doesn't stop pushing when Dee tries to shove him away to protect him, and it gets worse after the elder brother learns about what he did to Iacon. Dee has an outburst and hits Orion in the spark. Elita and Jazz run in at that point and Dee summons a giant seeker made of energon crystals to shove them out, to which Orion flips off, triggering a chase that leads to Elita, Orion and Jazz falling off a cliff. (yess I made Darkwing Marshmallow and I have no regrets).

After the fall Orion begins to panic about how he has no plan since Dee threw him out. Elita calms him down, and Jazz sees some sparks between the two, only for any teasing to get snuffed out when Orion's platting started to shift in color, going from red and blue to a teal like color in patches. Elita and Jazz decide to take the prince to Micronus since they think he can help. Orion and Bee think the siblings are crazy for a minute since the minicons were all hiding when they arrived so it looked like they were talking to nothing. All of the Minicons get really excited when they see Orion, thinking he's with Elita (Jazz has a boy friend who lives down south). Que a "Fixer Upper", and while Jazz does think the wedding is a bit much, he's glad that his family sees the potential couple like he does. Thankfully, Orion faints mid wedding ceremony, to which Micronus finally makes and appearance, and explains that Dee froze his spark, and he needs an act of true love to save him. With the suggestion of a true love's kiss placed in their minds, Jazz and Elita rush the ill prince back to Iacon to get a kiss from his fiancé.

Dee's energon palace is attacked and to his surprise his curse protected him, however he is still captured and wakes up in a cell with is servos encased in shackles. Airachnid begs him to stop the winter, but Dee says he can't. And in his panic he freezes his cell and makes a storm began to blow outside.

Elita and Jazz get Orion back to the Iacon palace, and neither of them feel right about leaving him there. Orion tries to get Airachnid to kiss him, his platting nearly completely teal and frosting over, but she betrays him claiming that she was only going to marry him for the throne, and was always planning to take out Dee. Airachnid douses the fire and leave Orion to die, both her and sentinel manipulating the other leaders to kill Dee. Bee finds him and relight the fire, helping Orion figure out his love for Elita. At the same time Jazz talks some sense into Elita and both siblings start running back to Iacon upon seeing the blizzard brewing. Both lovers start running towards each other through the storm in a desperate attempt to save orion's life.

Dee however is running blindly in a panic, he's never wanted this. he's never wanted to doom his people. Airachnid comes out of the wind, and tells him his worst fear come true. His brother is dead, slain by his servo. Grief is different then panic and fear, so the young king collapses to the ground and the storm comes to a stand still. With the air now clear, Orion is faced with a choice save him and run to Elita or save his brother. He runs to Dee, stopping Airachnids stabbing limb as his body fully crystalized. Airachnid is thrown back by the impact and Dee looks up to see his brother in Energon crystal. He clings to the statue sobbing. Bee calls for Orion, and Jazz supports his sister as they stare on in grief. By some miracle Orion reverts to metal, his sacrifice for his brother out of love being enough to save him. It's through this that Dee learns how to thaw the rest of Iacon, also how to keep poor Bee from melting.

Peace is restored to Iacon, Airachnid and Sentinel's ploy was found out and they were both sent away with Iacon respectfully cutting contact with their kingdoms. Elita and Orion get together, and Dee's powers are now an open secret and the gates forever remain open.

---

Once more, questions are welcome on this au, and if anyone wants to write it out you are welcome as long as credit is given. thanks again to @karioke13 and everyone involved in that post's thread.

[torveiglyart]

Due to my inability to post a comic page today, I have some more fleshing out of the Avicorians… and a Lance AU.

Due to the unique materials that many Avicorian’s body parts are made of, this race has been poached to extinction. The feathers, bones, teeth, claws, and eyes of an avicorian are held in high regard on the black market. Although they are universally known as extinct, there was a rather large group of Avicorians that escaped the mass poaching epidemic by fleeing to a small outer-rim planet known as Earth, and hiding there.

As generations came and went, the degree of chameleonisation rose, making it impossible to tell an Avicorian from a human, 2,000 years after the genocide. The only indicator that a person could be Avicorian or of that descent is heterochromia, yet even that genetic factor happens in regular humans, so there is no sure way to identify them.

Like Alteans, Avicorians have a unique connection to quintessence. The light markings on their wings indicate a person’s connection, or “power”, to the quintessence they feel strongest. for Avicorians, the composition of quintessence differs based on the colour: Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Teal, Blue, Violet, and White. Coincidentally, this colour action works similarly to Earthling’s “Auras” in that personalities can be identified by the quintessence colour. Unlike Alteans, Avicorians cannot “wield” quintessence or manipulate it in the way alchemists can. They can react to and with it, like recharging a Balmera, but cannot utilise it, like Oriande shows. Avicorians require quintessence usage to shape-shift (to morph, not sustain), while Alteans do not.

Quintessence and meaning

Red: Passion, agression, impulsion, heart

Orange: Energetic, creative, impatient, skittish

Yellow: Stubborn, support, compassion, caution

Green: Inquisitive, petty, productive, amicable

Blue: Fluid, thoughtful, trust, fawning

Violet: Decisive, level-head, weary, calm

White: “Purity” White quintessence does not normally appear naturally as it is a refined version. There are no traits, as there are none with a connection to white.

Teal: “Raw Quintessence” Balmeran crystals are the easiest example of quintessence in a raw form. Curiosity, kindness, flexibility, empathy

And now the Lance AU:

Unknown to Lance McClain, he is half Avicorian. His parents, who were actually a full-blood Avicorian and his “aunt” Rosa, were killed in a car accident when he was only 2, and so he was taken in by his aunt Sophia, who he knows as his mom. He was never told of his true parentage, as no one felt it was important for him to know. He was a McClain anyways.

Lance always had heterochromatic eyes, brown on bottom, blue on top, but preferred to wear coloured contacts to hide the unusual colouration, especially after a bad spout of bullying when he first moved to America.

Years later, when Voltron went to aid an Empire outpost with broken shields, Lance sacrificed himself to save Allura from a beam of electricity and was revived by her newfound knowledge of Altean alchemy. Upon revival, he began to have strange pains in his back and nails, yet continuously brushed them off as battle scars or “the whole dying thing”. Months later, when they fight Lotor in the quintessence field, Lance passes out after their victory and wakes up in Red, his armor broken on the ground in front of him and eyes burning. He doesn’t actually take note of the changes until Red is packed with his things and the castle is gone. No one ran into him during the packing trips, but now that things have settled, Pidge is the first to point out Lance’s silence. It is then that Lance freaks out about the wings, blue sclera, and claws.

[greycappedjester]

New chapter will be up tomorrow. I'm sorry it'll be a day late; trust me, I really, really tried to finish it tonight. But, being entirely honest, I drove around 14 hours in two days and I'm exhausted. Tried to push through anyway but I can already tell I'm not doing my best writing/editing like this and I don't want to post a chapter I feel isn't good enough. I have about 1 and a half scenes left to write plus editing.

As an apology and thanks for waiting, here's the first scene. (like I said my editing skills are wildly missing tonight so it's the unedited version)

----

The rain from the weekend slowly built up over the coming days, finally boiling into a heavy storm. 

The wind howled through the forest and shook the window panes. Clouds covered the sky so dark that even the moon couldn’t break through. The Hogwarts students stayed safe and tucked in their beds, thankful for the strong protection charms woven into the castle’s very core.

Truly, only fools would be outside on a night like this.

“YOU’RE BOTH INSANE!” Oikawa shouted over the thunder, lightning striking around them at the top of the Astronomy Tower. 

Matsu cackled. “What? Can’t hear you?”

“I said that you’re--” The loud boom of thunder interrupted him again and Oikawa settled for a deep, deep glare.

“So,” Makki clapped his hands together, “everyone having fun?”

All ten of the others--not counting Makki and Matsu, for obvious reasons--absolutely did not look like they were having fun. They looked like they were severely regretting every moment that led to this.

Then again, that wasn’t exactly a new feeling when it came to animagus training.

Makki grinned. “Great! You all brought your leaves, right?”

“Do we really have to be out in this,” Tsukishima demanded.

“Of course, we told you about the process, right,” Matsu said, ticking off his fingers while looking infuriatingly calm for someone in serious danger of electrocution. 

“You didn’t tell us we were getting struck by lightning,” Tsukishima snapped back.

“Well, truthfully we kinda had to improvise a bit,” Makki scratched at his nose sheepishly. “Didn’t expect the storm to last this long.”

Yachi frowned. “How does that affect the animagus potion?”

“Technically, the mandrake leaf has to be kept under your tongue for full moon to full moon,” Makki said. “Then, you stick it in a crystal phial under a full moon. Problem is if it’s cloudy, you gotta start the process all over again.”

Bokuto whimpered. “You mean we gotta start over again? But the leaf was so itchy the first time! And it tastes terrible!”

“Yeah and it’s pretty expensive to get since the second years already finished their assignment,” Matsu put in.

“So, we’re adapting,” Makki announced.

Lightning boomed ominously.

“Is that…safe,” Yamaguchi asked.

“Sure, the book even mentions it as an alternative method. Don’t worry about it at all,” Makki assured. Strangely, this had the opposite effect. “Just a bit more tricky since we have to use lightning to substitute for moonlight so we’ve gotta give it more time to settle. Should be ready by the time we’re back from break!”

Hinata poked at Kageyama. “Does that make sense?”

Kageyama shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much. Storms can serve as a substitute for moonlight since they’re technically both atmospheric based. Moon is further from Earth’s core, though, means lightning-based potions are more volatile. Need longer brewing time to settle.”

Suga smiled, nodding at Kageyama.

“There, see, we even got the potion nerds’ approval,” Makki said. “Everything will work fine!”

“And we had to do this on top of a tower,” Iwaizumi asked skeptically.

Matsu snorted. “Nope, that’s just for fun.”

The group looked like they were contemplating murdering both of them. 

Then again, that also wasn’t exactly a new feeling when it came to animagus training.

“Relax,” Makki said, “just keep an eye on each other and we won’t get struck by lightning. Keep in mind: when your hair stands on ends, that’s probably a bad sign.”

Kuroo and Bokuto simultaneously looked at each other, then up at the other’s hair, before blanching.

Luckily, Matsu quickly avoided any further complaints by pulling out the rest of the ingredients, including a potion’s case fo ten small vials each filled with clear liquid.

“You so owe us for this, by the way, do you know how hard it was to find a ten drops of dew untouched by humans or sunlight for at least a week,” Makki asked, passing them around.

“Um, not very hard?” Suga asked. “We live by a dark forest where students are literally forbidden from entering…and it’s been storming all week.”

Makki tilted his head. “Okay, point, but it’s the principal of the matter.”

“Yeah, yeah, you told us before. We each owe you at least two unnamed favors when it comes to pranks,” Oikawa said. 

“We should have made it three,” Matsu bemoaned. “All of you agreed way too easy.”

“Definitely,” Makki turned to address the group. “Okay, everyone add their leaf to the vial along with one strand of their hair. Just one now. You do not want to be one of those poor suckers that make a too hairy animagus potion. Pictures will give you nightmares.”

And, with that reminder of the risks, everyone got serious as they went about following Matsu and Makki’s instructions to the letter. 

After the hair, came the chrysalis of a Death’s-head hawk moth. Seven trunks with a silver spoon and Matsu instructed them all to stand their vials up on a metal vial ray brought specifically for the occasion.

“What’s next,” Yamaguchi asked.

“Great question,” Makki said. “Who here is really great at making some big protection shields?”

Hinata raised his hand excitedly. “Ooh! I am!”

“Cool!” Matsu said. “Might want to throw some up right about….now!”

He slapped down a rune covered parchment, which quickly engraved itself onto the tray. 

Kuroo and Oikawa recognized the symbols a second later. “WAIT--”

Bolts of lightning struck in the center of the tray, drawn there like a magnet. Shocks trailed off bouncing heavily off the bright blue of Hinata’s shield as the witnessed watched wide-eyed from inside.

A moment later and it was over, the tray left smoking while sparks run through the now bubbling liquid.

As one, the group all turned to Matsu and Makki.

“Okay,” Makki cackled. “We lied. There was one other reason we wanted to use the tower! Most effective lightning rod around!”