#I know they’re far more common here than in the states but I still felt very blessed!

[heatherwitch]

Oh, to be a sleepy red fox in the sunshine ☀️

[tinyinvadr]

Psychonauts brainrot is in full force! I finished the first game recently and I’m probably gonna start the second one tonight! So, here’s a new fic, (with an OC this time, ooh) let’s see if I finish it lol

Psychoborrower

Prologue

Psychics. Seemingly ordinary people with extraordinary powers, hidden in plain sight. Masters of the mind. You’d think they’d be regarded with only the highest of respect.

But instead, they’re shunned. Cast away. Treated like freaks and monsters for their gifts. It’s the kind of treatment that fosters resentment. Rage. Hatred.

The only way to truly make it is to earn a place in the ranks among the Psychonauts. But even then, only a select few can achieve that. Those who fail are forced back into their everyday lives, where they will have to hide who they truly are, or risk facing an even worse fate.

Though, they’re still better off than me.

At least they have a world to go back to, even if it’s cold and unwelcoming. They still have options open to them, they can still attempt to find happiness in a mundane, ordinary life. Because at the end of the day, psychics are human.

Except for me.

My name is Flint, and as far as I know, I’m the only borrower with psychic powers. To be honest, I have no idea how rare that actually is, since borrowers typically don’t see each other on a regular basis. I can only assume it’s not common, considering how my parents reacted when they found out.

I was only five years old, and they were… horrified.

I had no idea I was different. I just assumed everyone could levitate. But when they walked in on me floating in my room… I’ll never forget the look in their eyes.

The fear and shame directed towards me by my own parents was enough to break my concentration, and I fell flat on my face.

For some time, I stopped using my powers. After all, it was a “bad, dangerous thing”, as Dad described it. But there were some things I just couldn’t help.

I could read minds. And not just my parents, our human hosts too. They had a kid around my age who was also psychic, although they were a lot more supportive of her. They actively helped her learn to control her powers, and didn’t even get mad when she accidentally broke stuff.

Every day, I would watch and listen as she progressed, wishing it was me. But as time went on, I became a rebellious little nine year-old. I started copying her from my place within the walls, always making sure to stay hidden. And I’ve gotta say, I got pretty good all things considered.

Then, one day, the time came for my training to pay off.

Mom and I were out in the garden, collecting fresh vegetables. She had her back turned, but I saw the rabbit just in time.

The beady-eyed demon charged at us. We were in its territory, and it did not intend to share. Thinking fast, I knocked it back with a psychic blast. Stunned and startled, the beast ran away.

In those few short seconds, I felt like a hero. But then, I turned to Mom, and saw that same look in her eyes that almost turned me off from my powers for good.

“Flint… what have you done?”

I got grounded that night, and I was enraged. I saved her, why was she mad at me?

It wasn’t until the next morning that I learned the reason.

Apparently, I hit the rabbit harder than I thought, and it took severe psychic damage. Not enough to kill it, but enough to leave it in an unconscious state. So when the humans went into the garden and found the rabbit, they immediately knew it was knocked out by a psychic blast. And since their daughter was at school the day before, they knew that there had to be another psychic in the area.

I alerted them of my existence. Of our existence. If they found us, it would’ve been my fault.

Mom and Dad started packing up to move right away. We couldn’t stick around long after that incident. But the entire time, I couldn’t help but think that this wouldn’t solve the problem. Even if we moved to a new house, that wouldn’t stop me from being psychic. My only options were to suppress my true nature, or to continue to put my family at risk.

As the last of our belongings were packed, and the school year came to an end, I overheard more from the humans. They were sending their daughter to a psychic summer camp. It was a place for kids to train, to connect with others, and eventually, have the potential to become Psychonauts.

So much of what I’d heard from their thoughts about the Psychonauts intrigued me. They were psychics who went on daring and dangerous missions to save the world from all sorts of threats. They could astral project themselves into the psyches of anyone, and fight their inner demons head-on. And in the mental world, the possibilities are endless. If I could just access it, I wouldn’t have to be a weak, scared little borrower kid anymore. I could be whoever I wanted to be.

And that… was my only chance at redemption.

I felt bad leaving my parents so abruptly, but I knew they would try to stop me if I told them where I was going. It would hurt, but I’d come back as a Psychonaut, proving that my powers truly are good for something, and that borrowers have a place in this world.

With that goal in mind, I stowed away in the girl’s luggage, and I was off to Whispering Rock Psychic Summer Camp.

It took a few tries to get my astral projection right, but soon enough, I was able to present myself in the mental world at human size. The counselors and the other campers had no clue I was any different.

Of course, the staff did question me. I appeared out of nowhere, seemed to have no family they could get in contact with, and refused to show myself in the physical world.

I told them I’m a master of invisibility, and I take that title very seriously. Coach Oleander and Agent Nein just shrugged it off as me being a weird kid, though Agent Vodello was still very concerned about my lack of parents.

By the end of the first summer, they all gave up on trying to figure me out and just accepted that I was living at the camp with the intention of training there full-time.

Despite all the risks and doubts that I had, going to camp really was my best possible option. I was no longer a danger to my family, and I was on my way to becoming a Psychonaut. It was sure to be a long road ahead. I was so young, and still had a lot to learn.

After a few years, it really felt like I was getting close. I had a reputation around camp as the top student. Serious. Driven. Someone you should aspire to be. I could sense that my chance was right within my reach. I was almost 13, surely they’d have to let me join the Psychonauts soon.

But that summer had other plans. I found myself involved with an insane scheme, and as much as I hate to admit it, I probably wouldn’t have gotten out of it without help from a human kid with goggles.

[crystalbeastsquidney]

Bi-Han and Sareena talk about their names (word count: ~2.2k)

[just something I wanted to write for my 3-year t anniversary :0)]

[Don’t tag as ship]

“So, why ‘Bi-Han?”

The question caught him off guard. It wasn’t completely out of the blue, but a little forward for what they’d been talking about.

“What’s wrong with it? It’s just my name,” he answered. They were sitting on the stairs leading into one of the temple courtyards, the one with the statue of a large seated figure holding two lit braziers, one set in each palm. It was nighttime, but strong flames and the light of the full moon reflecting off the snow gave them more than enough to see. They’d gone out to get away from the bustle and noise inside for a spell, and had spent the past few minutes casually talking about their lives—the events that they’d gone through, the choices they’d made, and how that shaped them into the people they were now. Talking just to talk, and well, that was what she had ended up asking him.

Sareena laughed and playfully jabbed him in the side, “I mean why did you pick it. ‘Cold Wall’ isn’t exactly a common name, y’know—not one I’ve ever heard before.”

“Well, you’ve spent most of your life in hell, not exactly prime ground for hearing ‘common’ names, no?” Bi-Han quipped.

“Fair enough, I was just wondering.”

He looked out towards the horizon, idly watching the stars, and the clouds rolling across them shimmering under the moonlight. He knew full well what she’d meant, they had always talked freely about such things. Even if they didn’t, her and Ashrah had spent weeks—months even—reconstructing and restoring his body from death and corruption. It was doubtful she wouldn’t have noticed the scars just beneath his chest during all that time.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she added at his silence.

“No, it’s just… sort of long-winded, is all.”

Shrugging, Sareena leaned back resting her elbows on the steps behind her, “I’ve got nowhere else to be,” she smiled.

Bi-Han thought a moment, then smirked, “Then why don’t you go first? Why did you pick ‘Sareena?”

“I didn’t,” she answered plainly, “It’s always been my name—at least as far as I can remember.”

That gave Bi-Han pause, and he looked at her to ask, “You’ve never thought about changing it?”

She shrugged again, the pointed studs on the shoulders of her jacket glittering with reflected light. “No, it’s never really bothered me. It’s like…” she took her turn in gazing up at the sky as she spoke. The cold Arctika wind blew gently over the mountains—over Earthrealm—sweeping her hair into her face. She pushed that lock of white back behind her ear, feeling the heat of her face despite the cold as her hand brushed against her cheek. She still bore the evidence of her past, the hellfire that coursed through her veins, the very heat keeping her comfortable in a simple jacket left open in the front while Bi-Han sat bundled up beside her. And yet here she was, away from the Netherrealm, free from Quan Chi… To think those dreams that had once seemed so far off and fleeting had come true so long ago already. It was…

“Serenity; the state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled,” she said, staring at the moon.

“In that case, it doesn’t sound like it fit you that well when we first met,” Bi-Han commented.

“No, no it didn’t.” She laughed and continued looking upward, admiring the lunar halo shining above, tranquil against the dark night sky. “But it does now.”

Bi-Han smiled for her and watched the moon as well, until he felt her eyes move to him half-expectantly.

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, “…This is probably going to sound unrelated at first, but bear with me.”

Sareena gave him an understanding nod, and waited, eyes alight listening intently.

Rubbing his hands together to chase away the late night chill, Bi-Han began. “You know well enough that being a cryomancer is a big deal in the Lin Kuei, and our titles are no different. They’re like our second names. I don’t really know if Kuai Liang’s kept it around or not, but we used to have this tradition where, in order to receive your title, you had to first prove your cryomancy—“

He paused when Sareena made a face. It was subtle, but apparent enough in how her brow scrunched.

“Prove?’ What, did they line everyone up to make sure they could actually shoot little snowflakes from their fingertips?” she joked, even waggling her own in his face.

Being a demon, her breath condensed thick and foggy between them given the extra heat. Bi-Han laughed, lightly smacking her hands away. “It wasn’t that simple, just having cryomancy wasn’t the point,” he clarified, “It was about having purpose and precision. It’s one thing to blindly shoot ice from your hands—knowing how to use it is another thing entirely.”

“Gosh, it must have been a lot then,” her demeanor quickly shifted, knowing what she knew of the Lin Kuei before Kuai Liang had taken the helm.

“Eh, not really—maybe back when the clan was only cryomancers it was more involved, but by mine and Kuai Liang’s time, it was a formality; a rite of passage for the cryomancers we did have. I got my title when I was about… six or seven I think.”

Sareena’s eyes were full and bright with curiosity at this point. Bi-Han couldn’t tell if it were the fire reflecting in them, or if her retinas produced a natural eyeshine. Either way, her pupils were lost in the sharp red of her irises. “Then what did you have to do?” she asked.

He brought the memory to his mind’s forefront and carefully recounted it so as to not miss any of the details. “How it went was… you’d sit across from a fellow cryomancer, typically your oldest male relative—since, traditionally, he was who picked your name. For Kuai Liang and myself, it was our Grandfather. We both would create a ball of ice in our hands and—” he paused as he mimed the motion, one hand above the other, fingers slightly hooked pointing to the opposite wrist, as if caressing the empty space between. He had hardly realized he was doing it, but the resulting melancholy came with the reminder of what he’d lost. No ice formed as he continued the motion, no matter how hard he focused, or visualized.

A soft noise stirred him, and he looked up to see Saibot had emerged from wherever they’d been hidden away in the shadows. They sat in the snow a short distance in front of him and Sareena, listening with similar intrigue. His cryomancy was gone, likely never to return, but it had been replaced by something he could never imagine giving up.

He continued, “At the Grandmaster’s prompting, we would cause the ice to dissipate and reform in tandem. We did this six times, and if he thought you had displayed proper control over your cryomancy, you were allowed to receive your title.”

“Why six times?” Sareena asked, ever the inquirer.

Bi-Han shrugged, “probably because it’s a lucky number, or maybe it was something to do with how snowflakes always have six points.”

“Wow, okay, so your Grandfather named you Sub-Zero?” she looked to him with soft wonder.

He bit back a laugh, “You’re getting ahead of me. Sub-Zero was his title, I only inherited it… later.”

“Oh… I’m sorry,” Sareena deflated, a little embarrassed at herself.

“It’s alright.” He looked out at the skyline again, thinking about that same memory still, and the nights when his dear Yéye took him and Kuai Liang out on nights just like this to tell them the stories written in the stars. He remembered the cold hands that had pinned his medallion bearing the Lin Kuei’s insignia to his robes—how it hung with a notable weight from his small frame—and the hug that had followed. His arms might have been chilly, but his heart was not.

“He named me… Glacier; Bīngchuān.”

Sareena sat quietly for a moment, taking it all in, and then said, “And he named your brother ‘Tundra’, right?”

“Mmhm, he actually had a reason for that. Apparently, when glaciers move they tend to erode everything in their path into a flat, open plain. I guess his idea was that as a glacier travels, it paves the way for a tundra to form.”

“Oh, that’s beautiful,” Sareena beamed. “Your grandfather sounds like an intelligent man.”

Bi-Han chuckled, “I’m sure he’d be happy to know you think that kindly of him.”

They both went quiet for a few seconds, just existing in the moment, until Sareena finally asked, “So how did you get ‘Bi-Han’ from ‘Bīngchuān?”

He shuffled where he was seated, the frigid stone starting to numb his legs, “Well, I guess we’re alike in that regard—I didn’t.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly when Sareena whipped her head around to stare at him, “it’s honestly kind of embarrassing thinking about how it’s the reason I have my name and all…”

“Okay, now you have to tell me,” her face erupted into a devilish grin. Saibot likewise prodded him, wanting to know as well.

“Alright, alright,” he sighed, shooing them both away. He knew full well they would force the issue if he resisted, and figured it didn’t really matter anyway. His name was his name, and nothing would ever change that. “See the thing is, ‘Bīngchuān’ does mean ‘glacier’, but when you look at the hanzi it’s literally ‘ice river,” he began to explain, “which isn’t wrong, but it’s not really how most people think about them either, I would say.”

Saibot and Sareena just kept looking at him, waiting for the rest.

“The thing is, I was pretty young when I got my title, and Kuai Liang’s almost three years younger than me… so he understood that my title was ‘Bīngchuān’, but he didn’t know that it meant glacier, or even what one was…”

They kept staring, only now Sareena was struggling to hide a wide grin plastered across her face.

He continued, averting his eyes, “Anyway, one day I took him out to part of the inner wall of the temple ramparts and tried to explain it by covering a section in ice. I was hoping he’d realize glaciers are like walls of ice, but…” and then he sighed again, “instead, he said it was like a—”

“Bi-Han? Oh, there you three are,” Kuai Liang’s voice came from the temple doors behind them. Soft light poured out from inside, silhouetting him in its glow. He stopped after a second, standing in the open archway, “…Am I interrupting something?”

“Nope! Sounds like you’re right on queue,” Sareena quipped. She turned to Bi-Han and added, “You shouldn’t be embarrassed, that’s actually super cute. I wish my name could’ve had a basis like that.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re talking about,” Kuai Liang realized, coming down the steps to join them for a minute. He sat between them, wrapping an arm around his brother as he had noticeably begun to shiver beneath the many coats he was wearing. “You never wanted me to call you anything else.”

“I know,” Bi-Han said, soft and sentimental, hugging him back. He loved his name and the fact that Kuai Liang was who had given it to him. The details just felt a little overtly childish and silly, was all. He hadn’t even needed to choose it either, eventually he just preferred it over his birth name, and the rest followed suit.

Another voice came from the temple, cutting through the moment, “Did you find him yet?”

They all looked to see Johnny as he peered through the doorway, already shivering from the cold. “Oh, hey—get back in here man, we all wanna do cake already,” he said to Bi-Han.

“Why do you need me for that?”

Everyone gave him a look before Johnny said, “Dude, it’s literally your birthday.”

“I’m kidding,” Bi-Han grumbled after they continued to stare, “I thought out of everyone, you were supposed to be the expert of picking up on jokes.”

Sipping from whatever drink he had in hand, Johnny turned back into the temple’s warmth, back to the small party they were throwing, “I am. You’re just bad at telling ‘em,” he said nonchalantly, and laughed while walking away.

Kuai Liang laughed as well, and urged both his brother and Sareena to their feet. Bi-Han took a moment first to fashion a cane out of shadows to help in standing, and kept it firm in hand as he walked.

Sareena trailed behind beside him, trudging up the temple steps. “Y’know, I think it’s nice that you were able to have your family name you like that,” she smiled.

“Yeah? I guess it is.” He thought as they walked, about how she wished her own name’s meaning were a little deeper. “…Hey, um, would you want to be called ‘Serenity?” he asked simply.

“That’s okay, I’m happy with ‘Sareena’. But thanks.”

He smiled and nodded. Together they filed back into the temple after Kuai Liang, with Saibot returning to Bi-Han’s shade in the gentle light. Back to the warmth, kindness, friends and family that a life renewed had bestowed him with.

[hyunjinspark]

my phone ran out of battery in the middle of my ramble (sweaty reader who delayed her shower to finish the chapter) BUT IM HERE AGAIN TO TYPE IT OUT! (still… haven’t showered)

spoilers ahead WARNING! ❎ ❎

jade… how did you write this. how did you. are you a literature major? it seems like your writing gets better every time I come back to it. you have a otherworldly talent, is all I can say. you’re able to convey the emotions so clearly, so vividly, as if I’m living through this story myself.

firstly, can we talk about the parallels between hyun and y/n? “i love painting in the dark— the lights are too bright.” I had to put my phone down and contemplate my life decisions for a couple of minutes there. seriously. the parallels between them are INSANE i cant even

for me, this chapter highlighted the harsh truth behind both the art and the music industry (specifically: idol). it makes my heart ache knowing damn well that this might be a story where these situations are fiction, conjured up from your (fantastic, amazing, show-stopping) imagination, but this is someone else’s reality. idols barely having time to take a breather, the micromanagement, it just felt awfully real, scarily so. the fact that companies care more about capitalising off of hyun’s art—- it felt real. chan’s sacrifices, him barely sleeping? felt real. and so did mr kim jieong (would swear but… new year new me so this is as far as I will go) or should I say: MR SKUNK FACE PEDOPHILE DOUBLE DMMING UNLOYAL AUTHORITY ABUSER ok I’m done sorry. i know damn well that what happened to y/n is real. it happens, it definitely does. people in positions of power trying to use people’s desperation to their advantage and ABUSING it. it felt like i was the one living through that scene. i could feel his advances, i could see him in front of me, gripping my own jaw. amazing, amazing writing.

okay, secondly: THE SYMBOLISM THROUGH THE FLOWERS? god. the seasons and the flowers. hits every single time. the moment you mentioned flowers I knew where this was going. i knew where it was. i feel like the flowers represented both hyun & y/n. not necessarily their love for each other (no definitely not), but how the r/s between them became sour due to their… unfortunate circumstances. i think I’m wrong though! I’ll reread the chapter a couple more times and revisit by statement, but that is my first impression after reading ch18 for the first time!

THIRDLY, i love jeongin sm omg.

last but not least, here is my take on what will happen:

mr k- PEDOPHILE threatens hyun & y/n, hyun comes to warn y/n

i cant think of any rn I’m still in my shocked state (because this was so good)

personally, i think this is one of your best chapters by far. jade, words cannot explain HOW much i love your writing. thank you so, so much. happy early new year jade! much love from asia 🫶🏻

omg. im not a literature major but that’s SO sweet haha 😭 its good to hear that you think it gets better, i hope i improve each day.

yes ofc its not a hyunyn soulmate moment without the parallels. they’re so like each other 🤭 and yeah its sad that these things are so common and happen often in those industries, especially with people in positions of power. i obviously don’t know what goes on behind the scenes in the industry so most of it is my imagination, but i can believe some of the micromanagement might be too real :(

thank you for loving the flower symbolism ! i dedicated a lot of the chapter to it so im happy you liked and noticed it 🥺

thank you for thinking its my best chapter, wow ! i hope each one can be better than the previous.

[punkpoemprose]

Siege of Arendelle Chapter 17

Universe: Canon- Post F1 (Written before F2, not canon compliant with F2)

Rating: T (Teen & Up, it’s a little dark)

Length: 1426 Words

Master post [Here]

A/N: Kristanna Advent 2022, day 2! I’m hoping to get a few more chapters of this one done this month. It’s still a fave of mine and I can’t wait to get into the third act!

They’d made camp in the clearing, among the headstones and the charred remains that remained of the long since burnt-out church. Anna had set to boiling snow in a kettle to make herself some tea and Kristoff, who could read runes, was observing the headstones with some nervous curiosity. They hadn’t talked about the creatures in the wood.

The sickness hit her again without warning. She had to run on shaking legs to the edge of the clearing because Gods she didn’t want to vomit on sanctified ground because, despite what the fool’s errand she was on in these hinterlands said about her common sense, she was wise enough to know that it was probably sacrilege to empty the meager contents of her stomach onto a headstone.

It was hard not to cry, even when Kristoff’s hand rested strong and patient against her back. She was still shaking with the adrenaline from the chase that had brought them there, and what scared her even more was that she truly didn’t know what was wrong with her beyond the way that the creatures in the wood were weighing on her mind.

She appreciated his attempts at hiding it, but when Anna looked at him, his expression was rather grim. It was terrifying to see Kristoff, the sure and strong man she loved, look so distraught. Worse yet, it was gut wrenching to know that it was her fault and while she was fairly certain that the sickness she was feeling now wasn’t tied to her emotional state, she couldn’t rule it out.

Each time Kristoff gave her a look of anxiousness she felt her heart break a little more to have subjected him to this trip. She felt like dying was inevitable now, and while she’d gladly give herself for the chance to save her people, she couldn’t bear the thought of sacrificing him too.

She didn’t know the tears had started to fall until Kristoff was shushing her and settling her before the warmth of a small fire that he’d constructed for them again. It was a small comfort. He’d built it as close as to the trees as they dared as the pines around them both broke the wind and held the eerie promise of eyes upon them.

Nothing in this place was black and white. Nothing was simply a blessing or a curse. Everything about the hinterlands was tinged with both. The hallowed ground they rested upon now kept them safe, a blessing, but it also caged them and allowed them to be watched carefully in a place that they certainly could not stay for long, a curse.

His presence at her side, sitting next to her on the top of a wide crate he’d moved down from the cart to serve as a chair, brought her out of her thoughts. Again, he’d pushed food into her hands and bade her to eat. Despite the anxious voice in the back of her mind that told her that she’d just get sick again as soon as her stomach realized it had something inside it, she did as he asked of her.

Her reward was a kiss on her temple, his lips rough and chapped from the wind and cold.

“Were they…?”

She didn’t know how to finish her question, so she let it hang in the air between them. She half knew the answer regardless of what she could have said to finish the question itself. Were they Alves? Demons? Creatures of the wood trying to steal their very souls? Very probably. Putting a name to them would only go so far toward giving them a chance at safety, and Kristoff certainly knew more about that matter than she did.

“They were,” he said without offering a name aloud, “they were and as far as I know that means they don’t want us dead yet. They’ve had many chances to kill us, but we’re alive. Undoubtedly, they’re watching us now, but we’re alive.”

Anna slid closer to his side, feeling chilled despite the fire, and felt a small measure of peace when he wrapped his arm around her loosely. He likewise seemed to soften when she snuggled into his side. Things were unquestionably bad. They had been herded like cattle into what Anna knew was a trap, plain and simple. They were cold, and there was clearly something very wrong with her, but despite these facts Anna knew that she would survive. Despite the fears she felt, despite the terror in her gut, she knew that if she were with Kristoff she couldn’t possibly die.

Because we deserve a happy ending.

Whether or not the future would live up to her strong assertion, was another matter altogether.

***

Anna was wrapped around him, warm and soft but looking entirely too small and thin to him since they’d begun the undertaking that this trip into the hinterlands was turning out to be. She looked peaceful in her sleep, and he hoped that she was dreaming of a better place and a better time.

He’d been woken by a nightmare.

He wasn’t even certain how long they’d been travelling, which was a problem when he was trying to arrive to some still unknown location by the equinox. He assumed that Anna too had lost track of their travel days because she hadn’t mentioned it, but he supposed that they hadn’t been talking as much as they usually did and there was plenty he hadn’t been telling her as well.

He hadn’t wanted to scare her when he’d seen blood on the trail that he was sure she’d missed. He hadn’t mentioned that he’d been seeing the faint shapes of the creatures following them from the very moment that they’d entered the more unknown reaches of the wood. He hadn’t even spoken to her about the nightmares that were getting more and more vivid each night, because he didn’t want to scare her any more than she already was.

If she stopped believing that they’d make it out of this alive, so would he.

The sound alarmed him when he heard it, but when Anna made no move to awaken, he thought he may have imagined it. It sounded like crying.

When he heard it again it made him restless.

It sounded human, like a woman crying, and then it didn’t. There was a distortion to the sound, and he thought maybe it was some kind of animal in distress.

It wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t, but he extricated himself from Anna’s hold and slipped out of the tent flap anyway.

***

“Why are you here?”

The sound startled her awake. She hadn’t heard a voice other than Kristoff’s in what felt like months and whoever was speaking was certainly not him.

The voice was feminine, and its tone was biting, confident, as if the answer didn’t truly matter to it. Anna knew that it was not the voice of someone she knew, it was not the voice of someone who meant well and that had her scrambling up and toward the flap of the tent.

She only realized that Kristoff was gone when she stuck her head through the flap and she realized that he hadn’t been in the tent and he wasn’t in her line of sight.

Sven was near the entrance, snuffing out hot air that fogged in the night air. Everything around them, the unseasonably snow dusted ground, the graves, the bare trees, were illuminated by the moon and stars overhead which appeared unnaturally bright. Sven made a sound that Anna immediately associated with fear as his hooves shuffled in the snow nervously.

She was not relieved when she looked in the direction Sven was pointing his large body and saw Kristoff at the edge of the clearing furthest from her, standing before a half bare figure that all but glowed in the moonlight.

“Why are you here,” the voice commanded again.

Anna turned from Kristoff and toward the wagon. Her fight or flight instincts had kicked in now and she moved as quickly as she dared to reach for the bow and quiver that Kristoff had taken from her grip and stored after their earlier flight from the creatures in the wood.

As she wrapped her hands around the wood, she thought she’d feel comfort.

This was her moment; Kristoff had prepared her for this moment.

Instead, her blood ran cold as she felt the sharp cold sensation against her throat and saw the glowing white out of the corner of her eye.

[ultramagicalternate]

ULTRAMagic Chaos Chapter 11

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Master Post - Patreon

“Tusk, you may want to consider Calvin for the ULTRAMagic Guild” Cyneberht stated after eating some of his sandwich.

“Oh? Are you working towards ULTRAMagic, Calvin?” He asked.

Calvin gave a casual nod. “Well yeah, as I was pointing in that direction. I’ve been going back and forth with my projects, unsure what to do with them. I want to join a mage’s guild either way.”

“Calvin’s got quite the noggin on his shoulders,” Murdoch pointed out. “A bit odd, but the lad’s certainly creative.”

Mayhem was impressed by a little flying robot that zipped around the house. “I know you’re fairly low tech, Tusk, but the guild could always use an artificer.”

“I trust that the Descendants are back?” Murdoch interjected.

Tusk nodded. “Absolutely, and they’re here to stay this time. Englehart openly declared that the primordial hunts are over once and for all.”

“A good thing, I say,” Agatha replied. “If there’s still primordials around, then obviously they’re meant to be around…”

“With a few notable exceptions, mother,” Cyneberht added.

Razor leaned in a little to address Calvin. “Are you sure you want to go through with ULTRAMagic, Calvin? It’s not your average walk in the park.”

“I’m sure. If big brother can do it, so can I.”

Murdoch snapped his fingers. “Tenacity, it runs in our veins. It’s what got me working with Gaius. In hindsight, it also led me to being a little too strict with the boys when they were growing up, but hey, we all learn from our mistakes.”

Cyneberht subtly shook his head. “It is the way of Lord Driskoll, the progress and whatnot.”

“You know it is odd to hear you speak like that, Cyneberht,” Mayhem admitted. “Given our current situation.”

“Everyone has some reverence for their lord or leader, despite the circumstances,” Razor pointed out. “Dad taught me that it’s important to be pious and loyal.”

Murdoch set his mug down. “A good lesson to learn, My boy. And at the end of the day, we are all one, like the great swamp and its many roots. No matter what the domains and realms say to each other, we need to remember that we are all in this together.”

Tusk smiled in an amused way. “Something I wish those fools in the Cosmos proper would learn. I can’t even begin to articulate how annoyed I am at all the things Vlastimir told me about his universe…” He then stood up. “Thanks for the food, Agatha, Murdoch.” Razor and Mayhem also got up.

“You’re all welcome,” Agatha replied. “But going so soon?” They nodded.

“Lord Driskoll has always been a calm one, but best not keep his lordship waiting” Murdoch asserted.

Cyneberht stretched. “Go on ahead, Tusk. I’m going to rest my feet a little bit longer. Say hello to Lord Driskoll for me.”

Despite being down a man, the three felt incredibly confident. Greenwater was such a great place, a far cry from the plague filled bog Razor thought it would be. Tusk explained that that was a common misconception, as Driskoll studied death and disease rather than outright embodying them in their entirety. The three made their way back to the docks where Gaius was waiting with a bigger boat. Once everyone had boarded, he set off once again.

The great swamp became more dense as Gaius steadily pushed deeper in. The waters remained still and became cluttered with plants that grew stranger and stranger. Many of the trees had become more complex, their giant roots snaking in and out of the ground. Giant spider webs were also becoming more plentiful with equally sized spiders to occupy them. One cobweb had two people fully cocooned inside of it who were trying to free themselves. Recognizing that they were some of the help enlisted by Ealdhelm, Gaius had the spiders free them and take them to Greenwater.

A feeling of calmness intensified as the boat reached an immense, log fort at the center of the swamp. Like Greenwater, it also stood on stilts, but these were more like thick trees. The way the swamp surrounded the structure made it feel like it was being protected while also being the epicenter of the realm. Gaius brought the boat up to the lone dock and tied it down.

“What an incredible place…” Razor remarked as he marveled at the interior. It looked like it had been constructed and grown at the same time.

“Driskoll’s fort is meant to be more cozy” Tusk pointed out as they walked. Paintings and sconces lined the walls. “Although he certainly has his own collection of tomes and trinkets.”

“Cynberht helped collect a good portion of them,” Gaius added. They soon arrived at a lounge. “Wait here and I shall go fetch his lordship.”

Razor took a seat on one of the couches. “Wow, this place is incredibly clean.”

Tusk laughed. “Yeah, Driskoll is a bit of a neat freak.”

“Ironic, given some of his domains” Mayhem remarked, walking over to a kettle. He took it over to the fireplace, hung it over the fire, and filled it with water. “Truthfully I’ve always felt bad for Driskoll and the nonsense he has to deal with with Wulfric. And then I came along and started causing trouble…”

“Yeah, I’ve been noticing everyone mentioned that stuff,” said Razor. “What’s your story here, Mayhem?”

“Well to start off, Devils in my Inferno have affinities. If you can name it, there’s a devil for it. Fire, ice, electricity, steel, ink, mud… chaos. Chaos is an irregular affinity that rarely pops up, leading to prejudice amongst devils. You can already guess where this is heading.”

“Were you picked on as a youngling?” Razor looked concerned.

“Of course,” Mayhem continued. “This led to me feeling like I needed to prove myself to everyone. I had the brilliant idea to go to the Realm of Chaos and challenge Wulfric for his honors. Now I’m fairly powerful, but a Discordant God is on a whole other level.” Mayhem could feel his temper rising, but took a breath and went back to preparing some tea. “Naturally I rammed my head up against a wall for longer than I would like to admit to, no thanks to some of the more snooty primary devils back home. Not every primary devil is like that, I just got unlucky and ran into the worst of the worst.”

“So what changed your mind?” Tusk wondered.

“Eventually I realized I was getting nowhere fast, so I stopped to rethink my plans. I still didn’t get it, but then someone got my attention: Dragutin. He was also dealing with the Discordant Gods, but he had a more noble cause. I inevitably got in his way, so he sat me down and had a talk with me. In regards to my self-esteem, he told me that we choose who we want to be, not other people. As for my quest, he told me to quit while I was ahead and pick my battles wisely. Blunt, but effective.”

Tusk laughed again, albeit sympathetically. “Something Blood-Wraith needs to be careful of.”

“Was it really as simple as that, Mayhem?” Razor asked further.

“Yup. That made me realize that I was in over my head, so I went to Ealdhelm and asked how I could help. The rest is history and Dragutin has been one of my best friends ever since.”

Tusk sipped his tea. “You should never let the expectations of others weigh you down. Heed their word if they have something to say, but you’ll never get where you’re going if you let other people man the helm…”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself, Tusk,” a deep, older voice replied.

Standing in the entrance was a tall, old man. He had a long, gray beard and a focused gaze. His attire consisted of robes that were coarse and brown, looking like that of a mage and an alchemist. A thick belt with many pockets sat around his waist that he had to adjust with his gloved hands. And like Kelitos prior, he gave off a truly great presence, befitting of a god.

“Hey, Driskoll!” Tusk welcomed.

“Good to see you again, Tusk” he replied as he went over to a chair and sat down. “I see Cyneberht also came along with you?”

“Yeah, but he wanted to stay with his family for a bit. Also he says hi.”

“That’s what I expected given how long he has been away. Mayhem, how have you been doing?”

“Great, Lord Driskoll. The recruits haven’t been doing well, but obviously Tusk is changing that.” Mayhem then went over to the kettle and prepared another cup of tea.

Driskoll accepted the drink. “Thank you,” he said after a sip. “I noticed Kleitos was excited with his newest epiphany when he visited me the other day. I’ve been waiting for this change for some time now. Wulfric won’t be pleased, but I am prepared to rebuke his ire. I commend my younger brother for his bravery and fortitude, but he really needs to stop and look at the bigger picture.”

“I’ll raise a mug to that” Mayhem concurred, causing the two to chuckle.

Driskoll turned to Razor. “Razor Scully, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

Razor was amazed by Driskoll, so it took him a second to shake his stupor. “Sorry, it’s an honor to meet you too, Driskoll.”

“Given that you’re also from The Unending Forest, Tusk, how are things going now that The Lich is gone? I sensed The Forest finally settled down not too long ago.”

“Excellent. The Forest feels a lot safer with the Descendants around. The whole family’s back too, so everything’s all good.”

Driskoll paused. “Hum, it’d be perfect if that charlatan, Karnage, wasn’t around… As for the current situation, don’t worry, I quietly resigned from Wulfric’s campaign a while ago.” Tusk and Razor high fived again. “Not to repeat what’s already been said, but like Kleitos, I am not a fighter. I want to study death, not perpetuate it. Still, I have a lurking suspicion my hand may be forced in the future. Until then, I am going to continue my studies.”

Tusk groaned, remembering what Ultimatum had said about Blood-Wraith and Leif. “I don’t even want to know what else Milosh has up his sleeves. Having you guys back on our side does make me feel better though.”

Mayhem cleared his throat. “Lord Driskoll? I’d like to apologize once and for all for all of the trouble I’ve caused you and the others, back when I was challenging Wulfric.”

“All is forgiven, Mayhem. It takes courage to admit when you’re wrong, and fortitude to fix those mistakes. Now let’s hope Wulfric takes a page out of your book. I know you can hear me, brother!” Driskoll said as he stamped his foot. The others laughed.

“Seriously, why are the Discordant Gods considered so dangerous again?” Razor questioned.

“I’d say it’s our potential,” Driskoll answered. “We don’t play by the rules, leading to all sorts of hectic outcomes. We are dynamic, yet static. We change, yet we remain who we are. I feel this paradoxical nature allows us to truly grow and influence the Cosmos around us. Of course those lower on the dimensional hierarchy would see us as chaos for the sake of chaos, missing out on the nuances all of us are privy to. Of course if these naysayers could perceive the contradictory Gods of Order, they’d be singing a vastly different tune.”

Razor nodded in acceptance. “Yeah, that does make sense. People in the Cosmos proper are strange.”

“Agreed,” said Mayhem. “I can’t even begin to describe the amount of trouble making souls that pass through the prisons of Inferno that the wardens have to deal with.”

“Delphine has been eyeing one of the universes in the Cosmos proper” Driskoll pointed out. “Universe-23 I believe she calls it�� or was it Universe-15? Either way, she’s been seeking acolytes and those to rectify, which has me concerned. Of course, aren’t we all as of late?”

Tusk went up to get something. “Well at least we’re getting good recruits for the guild.”

“What are you up to, Tusk?”

He came back with a board shaped box. “Driskoll, can we play some chess? All of this feels too easy.”

Driskoll had a quick laugh. “Sure, my boy. I need to play against someone other than Kleitos. I love my brother, but he keeps using his vast intellect to cheat, thinking I don’t notice.”

This made Razor laugh too. “Reminds me of when I play games with my younger siblings.”

“To be fair, Kleitos is a younger god from what I’ve been told,” Tusk said as he set up the board and pieces. “Oh yeah, Driskoll, I assume you heard about what happened to my arm?”

Driskoll nodded, then thought for a second. “Tusk, would you be upset if I fixed that predicament of yours?”

Tusk was surprised. “You can?”

“Of course, but I’ll need to think about it while we play. I can’t just snap my fingers as these things require great care.”

“Fine with me. This arm hasn’t been the greatest, ha.”

Next: Chapter 12

ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)

[dragon-born15]

This!! I know this post is old by now, but I hope it‘s okay if I give my own opinions to the mix!

I read The Life And Times Of Scrooge McDuck obsessively when I was around 13 and the relationship between Scrooge and Goldie fascinated me every time. They had so many flaws, but also so many things in common. Both eager for success, cold on the outside, trying to seem unattainable and both too stubborn to admit their feelings.

The fact that, of all the people, Scrooge didn’t have the self-confidence to think Goldie actually loved him ads so much depth in his character. He’s not a cold hearted bastard. He is just- incapable of putting his feelings into words? (This hits home, whoops) I feel like his I-need-to-make-money-to-be-appreciated-mantra shows how little he cares for his own well-being. Like this man straight up said “I’m not hungry, I ate last week.” and waited for the fire to fucking freeze until building himself a house. I think Scrooge didn’t love himself at the time, his body seemed to be more of a tool to get to his goal. So, by his logic, the idea that Goldie might like him seemed absurd, because no one liked him. He didn’t even like himself.

(Also I recently read an interview with Don Rosa where he stated that the letter for Goldie in „The Last Sled To Dawson“ was a marriage proposal. I really, really wish there was a backstory to this, how Scrooge‘s feelings changed, how he thought about his life, his future and his happiness and decided to sit down and write this letter to Goldie. And how he felt after the sled and with it the letter was lost. Did he see it as an omen? That Goldie and him shouldn’t be? Arghh curse you Mr. Rosa for writing way too good stories.)

Anyway, Scrooge is not the cold hearted, untouchable man he at least wants to seem like being. So many people did him wrong in the past, so many betrayed him, so many wanted him dead. He built up these walls so he won’t seem vulnerable, so he would survive in this cruel world. He had to rely on this fake character for so long that I think he slowly grew into it. With the combination of his growing greed this resulted in “The Empire-Builder from Calisota” where he at least partly started to realise how far he went astray from his goal to make it square. However, he still kept the image of a greedy, cold hearted asshole so people wouldn’t think he’s gone soft. He admits this in “A Letter From Home” to Mathilda. He is ashamed for having sent away his family in the first place and, once again, was too stubborn to apologise, to realise how he had lost his true goals during his long journeys. As for his reputation, I think this snippet speaks for itself.

Scrooge’s character goes so much deeper than the “he loves money and is mean to Donald” trope he’s often portrayed in. Fair, I might have projected on him a bit but nevertheless, Bark’s and Rosa’s Scrooge is quite the complex character.

(I’m going on a tangence here, but my hyper focus has kicked in and also it’s almost 4am and I got out all my Rosa comics, bare with me)

I think this is the reason I’m not too big of a fan of DT17 Scrooge. That sounds a bit harsh, so let me explain. The lessons he teaches are mostly family comes first no matter what, no money can weight out the importance of family ect. Naturally DT17 is targeted at a younger audience than my 22yo ass and Scrooge is one of the main characters, meaning he has to appeal to them, so I get the choice they made with him. And honestly I enjoyed seeing his character being presented in a fresh and extremely positive light! He has his heartwarming scenes, I won’t tell you how much I cried during some of them lol

ANYWAY, now that some of you hopefully won’t come for me I can say this: that version of Scrooge is about as diluted as his tea bag he reuses for the tenth time. Sure, Scrooge cares for his family, after all they’re the whole reason he got out of retirement and back into adventuring in the first place. However, especially Rosa‘s Scrooge is a morally very grey character. This Scrooge might still put his family first, like DT17 Scrooge, but only at the last possible moment. His desire for fortune is still massive, almost costing the lives of his family and his own.

In „Quest For Kalevala“ he fills the boat they’re all sitting in during a storm with gold, so the ship is sinking. The only reason for their survival is a mere miracle. In „The Treasure Of The Ten Avatars“ he only lets go of the treasure he’s holding because he realises he won’t survive if he held on to it. In „Attack Of The Hideous Space Varmints“ he literally almost stayed in space forever, reliving his Yukon days and would’ve send his nephews back to earth without him, if the space police hadn’t appeared. This Scrooge puts his family one inch above money and still cuts every expense they might bring with them.

(Okay this is a sidenote, but DT17 Scrooge emptying his money bin to search for Della doesn’t make sense? Like he has money in banks and businesses all around the world, the bin contains the money he’ll never spend.

Also Scrooge being canonically a 150yo is so fucking funny to me— Anyway)

The dynamic between Scrooge and Goldie in DT17 also differs a lot from the original one. I really like how they made Goldie more of the adventurous type while still staying kind of close to her character. Interestingly she now kind of seems like a female version of Scrooge, if he hadn’t taken the making-my-money-square-route, wich, in Barks and Rosas version, would be the role of Flintheart Glomgold. Just like Scrooge, she appears to only care for money, is hiding her true feelings and stepping in her own way.

What I find fascinating is how Scrooge kinda takes the role of the credulous fool (although he still doesn’t fully trust her) and Goldie almost seems to be the sole reason for her relationship not working out. She’s portrayed as manipulative, always agitating people against eachother and being fully aware of the effect she has on other people, including Scrooge. She seems to know he’s is in love with her and takes advantage of this fact. I feel like this hits closer to Barks‘ Goldie, who was a bit more ruthless than Rosa‘s version. (Then again, she has her wholesome moments as well)

Of course this is only my impression and I kind of lack the vocabulary to fully express my thoughts (English isn’t my first language, so apologies for possible mistakes), but it seems to me like Scrooge is essentially portrayed as the good guy, who really wants to make it work, and Goldie as the bad girl, who constantly uses and betrays him.

Anyway it’s almost 5am now, so I‘ll close this post with one last snippet of my absolute favourite Don Rosa story „A Little Something Special“!

Scrooge is still too stubborn to admit his true feelings and Goldie has accepted that- but she knows. And she’ll wait for him💔

Anyways if you’re still here, thanks for reading through my 4am hyperfocus gushing, hopefully my translations were somewhat understandable :D

Why I Love Rosa’s Scrooge and Goldie Romance the Most

Veering completely out of my lane for this particular blog, but. I’ve always been a huge fan of Don Rosa’s portrayal of Scrooge McDuck and Goldie O’Gilt. I know some wanna deem them “problematic”, and they are indeed less than perfect - which is one of the reasons I am a sucker for their dynamic. They ruined their own chances at a healthy relationship by being too stubborn, too selfish, and too callous with one another. 

Now, with that said, as much as I understand Scrooge’s choice not to open the letter Goldie had sent him - conditioned to expect the worst, and thus willfully choosing to cast aside the note in favour of telling himself Goldie might have loved him. 

We, the audience, know that she does and thus it hurts all the more that he would believe he could never earn her fancy. We understand why he doesn’t read the message, despite the fact that he ought to and it might have made him happier than his eventual fortune ever could.

As much as that hurts; Goldie’s side of things is ever more bitter. 

Imagine pouring your heart out to the man you love, being dead certain he will return if he only gets to read the letter in which your confessions are penned - only for him never to return. Imagine waiting, pining, longing, anticipating. Imagine the days turning to months, to years, to decades. And he never comes. He read the letter, yet he never comes back for you.

So, while Scrooge’s inherent self doubt and low self esteem (his I’m nothing unless I make money and become someone worth admiring mantra) - I believe Goldie took it the hardest. She was the saloon girl, with all the implications behind the profession at the time, and she was turned down by the one man she believed could see past her flaws and what she must have believed had - as a sordid past of sorts - tainted her value as a reputable woman.

Scrooge, who couldn’t care less for Goldie’s social standing or past once he noted what a diligent and hardworking woman she was and what she had sacrificed to get where she was. 

Goldie, who couldn’t care less for Scrooge’s empty wallet and stubborn attitude once getting past his rough exterior to the softer core.

They could have made a great couple, their differences and pigheadedness set aside. Instead, they spent fifty years believing the other didn’t love them back; worn down by unrequited love. That’s why their story is so compelling to me, as it is presented in the comics by Don Rosa. 

Does that mean I don’t like any other Goldie and Scrooge portrayals? Absolutely not, but the tragedy makes the Rosa (and consequently Barks’) iteration my favourite. I like the tragedy, the chaos, the trauma, the deep seated sadness of it all. Is it dysfunctional? Perhaps, but it’s fiction. And I prefer deep, layer characters that are morally gray above strict whites and blacks. 

Also, the drama is on another level - and I find, the older I get, the more I enjoy Rosa’s works (although I did as a teen as well) because of their slightly more mature angle, and the more mature themes. The same reason I enjoy Tintin, I’d recon.

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝔻𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕖𝕤

___________________

ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Bucky gets hit with that god awful (but really hot) sex pollen. (this was requested)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: Dub-Con/Non-Con as per usual with sex pollens fics (although i try to write them as consensual as possible :T) Smut obvi (18+ minors dni), slight daddy kink, age gap?, public male masturbation; it's brief but still

TW: very brief mention of possible suicide

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hot

____________________

“Where are those daisies we collected from the last mission?” Tony asked you, eyes staying glued to the hologram in front of him.

“I left them on the quinjet. Fury said to wait for transportation until Shield confirms safety. It’s literally in a glass case, but whatever,” you rolled your eyes, making the older man laugh.

“Just protocol, kid,” he snickered.

Meanwhile Bucky sat with Steve eating lunch, chatting it up like old men do.

“So what did you bring back from the last mission? I saw a bunch of agents in hazmat suits,” Steve said sipping his coffee.

“Uh, well Thor said we should bring some plants back for research, but it seems like a bunch of normal lookin’ daisies,” Bucky shrugged.

“Y/n loves daisies,” Steve smirked.

“Ok?”

“And you love Y/n,” Steve teased.

“No I don’t-”

“Hey boys!” you skipped past the kitchen.

“Y/n,” Bucky said standing up with a big goofy smile on his face.

“Where ��ya going?” Steve asked with a chuckle.

“Quinjet. Fury gave us the go to start doing tests on that plant you brought the other day,” you smiled lightly jogging to the runway.

“Why don't you ask her on a date, Buck,” Steve nudged.

“Come on, she’s way too smart to go out with a dumbass like me,” Bucky joked.

“Seriously.”

“I don’t know. It’s been years since I’ve talked to another woman. It doesn’t come naturally anymore. Wha- what’s even the first I’d say to her?”

“I don’t know, man. I’m on the same boat with you. Just… Tell how nice she looks today when she comes back.”

“Really?” Bucky asked skeptically.

“Yeah, be nice to her.”

“I am nice to her.”

“I mean be extra nice. Flatter her,” Steve told him, “Go wait in the lab until she comes back and tell her she looks pretty today.”

“Isn’t Tony in the lab?” Bucky asked.

“Ha ha, yeah,” Steve teased, patting his back before leaving to his room.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony mumbled seeing Bucky waltzing in the room awkwardly.

“Nothing,” he mumbled back.

Tony dropped his hands and stared at Bucky with an unimpressed look on his face. Everyone but you knew about Barnes’ little boy crush on you but he’s never had the balls to say anything. You were close to Tony and seeing as though he doesn’t particularly like Bucky, he didn’t want you hanging around him. But you were an adult so of course you hung out with whoever you wanted.

He was sure you liked him back too which never ceased to make him roll his eyes.

You walked back from the quinjet with the glass container of daisies. You weren’t exactly a plant expert but it was apparent that these daisies were mutated seeing as though the pollen swirled around the flowers gracefully. It was beautiful but then again they might be extremely dangerous considering it was a Hydra experiment.

“Hey Y/n, off to the lab again?” Steve smiled.

“Yup, gotta check these babies out according to Thor; said they might be dangerous if they’re what he thinks they are,” you said, still walking.

“And what’s that?” you just shrugged at his question unsure of the answer yourself.

“Well, Bucky’s waiting for you in the lab,” he slipped in the conversation.

“Really? Why’s-” Crash!

“Oh no,” Tony mumbled, seeing the collision in action.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you stuttered.

“No, no. I should be sorry. Here let me help,” bucky knelt to the ground grabbed the fallen daisies with his bare hands.

“No! Don’t touch-” Tony shouted practically sprinting towards you two.

The golden pollen swirled in a misty manner engulfing Bucky completely. You stared with furrowed brows confused at the sight before you and what was going on. Bucky’s skin began to burn and his senses were being overloaded. All he could smell in that moment was you; the same scent that he got a whiff of this morning when he hugged you, the perfume and the shampoo that filled his senses when you walked passed him.

Tony pushed you out of the lab roughly throwing you in Steve’s arms who was just as confused.

“FRIDAY,” Tony called out.

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” the familiar voice answered.

“Lock all the doors to the lab and maybe turn on the a/c,” he commanded.

“Of course, Mr. Stark.”

All the glass walls and doors instantly shut and locked, locking Bucky inside. Bucky’s eyes found your and slammed his body against the glass desperately trying to reach you. You too ran up to the glass wall trying to understand what had happened to him. Everything was happening so suddenly.

Your forehead was pressed against the glass as was Bucky’s; both of you staring into each other’s eyes momentarily. In that moment, you could see his eyes turn golden for a quick second before his pupils dilated ridiculously before your eyes.

“Is he going to be ok?” you turned away.

“Y/n! Please!” Bucky’s muffled screams shocked you.

“Uh… where’s Thor?” Tony panicked.

“What the hell is happening?” Nat asked; Sam, Wanda, and Vision trailing behind closely.

“Nat,” you ran to her.

“What happened to Bucky?” Same asked.

“He- I ran- I ran into him by a-accident and the box dropped. There was mist everywhere and Bucky's eyes. His eyes,” you stammered breathlessly.

“Please! I need her!” Bucky hit the glass in an attempt to break it.

“Oh my goodness,” Wanda gasped at the sweaty Bucky hitting and practically going feral.

“Oh god, is he gonna be ok?” you teared up. This is your fault, dammit.

“I can asure he will experience no physical harm,” Thor’s voice made all of you turn around.

“Just physically? What the hell does that mean?” Sam argued.

“Well, uh… I’ve never actually seen it’s effects in person. Especially not on a Midguardian…” his voice trailed off and his eyes grew big.

Nat snapped her head, eyes widening as well. Bucky with absolutely no shame held his hard dick in his hands pumping it with his eyes trained on you. You went to turn around seeing nat’s expression but she covered you eyes before you could actually see the lewd behavior Bucky indulged in.

“What’s happening?” you asked holding onto Nat as she led across the room.

“Nothing, they’re gonna take care of Buck. Don’t worry about it,” she said quickly.

You sat in your room bouncing your leg as the movie on your TV played. Every now and then Bucky would moan and cry particularly loud making all of you wince and cringe. But your mind felt foggy simply thinking about Bucky and his safety; especially that moment when his eyes went from confusion to you don’t even know what. Hunger? Desire? Lust?

Whatever it was, it made your tummy flutter.

“Steve, any news on Bucky?” Steve stood at the doorway with a worrisome face that did nothing to ease your already panicked nerves.

“Well, as far as Thor knows the plant that was mutated with the daisies was pollen extracted from a breeding plant common among other galaxies; for species that can’t… reproduce like we do. The pollen enters the system and targets the nociceptors causing excruciating pain without physical harm. If untreated the victim can reach a traumatic state and truthfully, they will do anything to stop the pain; even kill themselves.”

“What the hell does any of that mean?” Sam grunted.

“It means the tin man is painfully horny,” Tony interrupted.

“Are you fucking serious?” Sam said in disbelief.

“What’s the cure?” Nat said.

“Oxytocin, of course,” Tony said.

“The cuddle hormone,” you whispered.

“Yup. Banner and I are already working on a serum containing artificial oxytocin in hopes to minimize the pain or even better cure him completely. We-”

“I’m afraid it’s going to be a bit more complicated than that,” Thor interrupted Tony.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, see the pollen, it’s a little tricky. The oxyputin-thingy you mentioned…”

“Oxytocin,” Tony clarified but Thor didn’t care too much.

“I don't think artificial love is going to cure the boy. If you want results, he needs to be the one he desires most. That’s where you’ll get your oxy-pudding.”

“Oxy- You know what, we can figure this out without anyone needing to have sex,” Tony groaned.

“Tony, maybe we shouldn’t-” you started.

“Nope, we can do this. We’re science bros,” Tony stormed away like a child.

“Isn’t your lab being ‘occupied’,” Nat called out.

“Shit!”

-

Hours went by and the oxytocin experiments were clearly a fail. The first dose did nothing. The second also nothing. The third relieved him for only ten seconds before he went back to his painful state. Since then, they haven’t been able to help or relieve Bucky’s circumstance any longer.

You thought about Thor’s words, about how the one he desires most could cure him. A ping of jealousy struck your heart but you knew you to find the woman Bucky loved and just pray that she'd help him. You made your way back to the lad area where Tony and Bruce had their new makeshift set up while the lab was locked down.

“Tony, this is ridiculous. It’s been going on for too long. You heard what Thor said about what happens when it gets too much,” you begged.

“And what do you suggest we do?” Tony said angrily.

“We need to find the woman that Bucky loves so she can help him,” you argued back.

“It's not just some woman, Y/n! He wants you.”

“What?”

“All the bastard’s been doing for the past eight hours has been masterbating while moaning your name. I’m not putting you in that situation,” Tony yelled.

You couldn’t speak. Was he telling you the truth? Did Bucky want you like that? The same way you secretly wanted him? It’s not like you haven't thought about what being with Bucky would be like before. He was perfect; so handsome and charming.

You ran back to your room where the rest of the guys still were practically out of breath; your heart hammering out of your chest and your stomach fluttering like it does whenever you think about Bucky.

“I need to get to Bucky,” you panted out.

“What?”

“Please you guys need to help me. Tony said that Bucky wants me; I mean can you believe. A guy like him wanting me? I’m just… nobody. He’s way too out of my league and-”

“Y/n, focus,” Nat said.

“Right. I- I want to help him. I know I can.”

“Y/n, we don’t know how dangerous this is. I mean, it came from Hydra, this could be weaponized and you could get hurt,” Steve argued.

“Bucky could never hurt me,” you whispered; Nat looked at you softly, understanding the situation better realizing you were probably Bucky’s only chance of a cure.

“You’re not actually considering letting her do this are you?” Steve scolded Nat.

"Are Tony and Bruce making any progress?" she sighed.

"They haven't been to even relieve his pain for longer than ten seconds," you whispered.

"Steve, this is Bucky we're talking about. Hasn't he endure enough torture in his life?" Nat said softly.

That seemed to convince him. Seeing Bucky in so much pain like he had been only years ago was unfair, especially when they technically already knew a cure. Waiting this out was pure evil at this point.

"How do you suppose we go about this?" he asked.

You devised a plan in order to let Bucky from the lab; he'd find his way to you on his own. Wanda stood from afar using her powers to tamper with the equipment. Tony frustratingly would have to run across the compound to the conference rooms to grab new devices in order to continue with his notes and tests.

On his way back, Steve and his convincing and charming ways would stall Tony's return asking him all sorts of questions about Bucky's state. Meanwhile, Thor made up some excuse to lure Banner away just for a minute so Nat and Sam could override the lockdown through Friday and free Bucky.

All the while you sat in your room waiting anxiously for Bucky to barge through the door and have his way with you.

A few minutes went by and no sign of a ruckus you'd assume would accompany the escape plan. You fiddled with the hem of your skirt biting your lip in anticipation. Still no sign after a couple more minutes. Wanting to make sure you still looked alright for Buck, although he'd probably not even acknowledge your appearance, you stood up to walk to your bathroom.

Just as you stood up, Bucky in all his muscle and broad glory slammed the door behind him staring at you with nothing but desperate hunger. Your stomach flipped when you saw him lock the door, pushing a small chair you had just next to it in front of the door under the handle.

He stalked towards practically panting and you took in his appearance. His hair was quite disheveled and sweat lined his forehead and slightly down his neck. Despite that, he still looked so handsome and sexy.

"маленький, all dressed up for me to ruin," he growled crawling up the bed as you crawled back.

"Buck, are you ok? I want to help you," you whispered.

"I'm more than ok now, beautiful," he whispered leaning into you, his nose brushing against yours, chuckling when you visibly trembled.

"Is my красивый маленький ангел gonna let me use her?" he whispered, huskily.

"Bucky, I don't understand what you're saying."

"так драгоценно," he whispered against your lips before pressing himself completely against you.

His hands, contrast between hot and cold, crept under your shirt brushing lightly over your delicate skin. You had somewhat expected Bucky to have no control and use you relentlessly, of which you wouldn't have minded, but this soft ginger foreplay was really making your panties wet.

Bucky slowly lifted the shirt from your body before tossing it to the side and removing his own. His hands cupped your breasts squeezing the soft flesh quite roughly making you sigh and moan at the feeling.

His lips attached themselves to your neck biting and sucking harshly littering your skin with dark purple marks. He nibbled on your ear as he grinding his pelvis against yours, his large erection poking your center making you even more aroused.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you. It smelled just like you," he whispered.

"T- The daisies?"

"I've been craving you, aching for you. Thinking about how good you're gonna feel wrapped around my cock," he panted speeding up his grinding thrusts.

"Buck," you breathed out.

Bucky shuddered over you before stilling for a moment. He couldn't help it, your scent, your warm skin pressed against his, he couldn't hold back anymore coming straight away in his pants.

You brushed his hair softly soothing him from his high. You thought it was over, that he felt better and was finally cured but almost instantly you felt Bucky harden under you, poking between your thighs and you gasped knowing very well it was going to be a long night.

Bucky stood on his knees and pulled your bottoms down your legs nearly ripping the material. He too rid his bottoms throwing them god knows where before climbing back on top of you. You stared adorably up at him and Bucky almost came again. He smiled softly at you before kissing you once more.

Suddenly, loud bangs on your door startled you but not Bucky.

"What the hell are you doing!" Tony screamed.

"Tony, you gotta stop! This is the only way! It's not fair to him to let him keep suffering. He's done enough of that, ok?" Nat shouted.

"She's gonna get hurt," Tony sighed.

"No she won't. This was her idea."

Tony looked back teary eyed. He really cared for you as his own and putting you in a situation like this wasn't fair to you either. He really tried to help but this was just too complicated and too advanced to solve in only a few hours. They were right, Bucky needed you as much as he didn't like that idea too much.

"Fine."

Bucky lined his cock with your entrance wrapping your legs around his waist. Slowly he pushed in pulling moans from you both. You've only had a couple lovers previous to Bucky but neither of them ever filled you so perfectly. Bucky stretched you out like none other and admittedly he wanted to use his fingers on you first but he'd been away for too long it was too painful to go another second without being inside you.

"So tight and warm, little one. Feel so fucking good wrapped around me."

"Buck," you moaned.

You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him impossibly closer to you as you kissed along his neck and jaw. Bucky moaned breathlessly in your ear and you couldn't help the clenching around him from arousal.

"Fuck, keep doing that, little one," he groaned.

Toy squeezed your thighs together and clenched around him again making him groan louder this time. His thrusts became sporadic and you moved against like a ragdoll unable to keep up with his relentless pace.

Your legs began to shake and your back arched into his chest reaching you first high of the night, gushing all over his cock. You realize he hasn't come and gently push him off you before flipping over to let him take you again from behind.

As expected, Bucky pushed into once again deeper this time and you shuddered under his hand that rested atop your arched back. Bucky smacked and kneaded your ass thrusting in and out. The lewd squelching sound of his thrust mixed with the sound of skin slapping against each other echoed in the room.

"Shit, little one. Taking my cock so fucking well," he reached forward and bunch up your hair pulling your head back harshly.

“Shit,” you mumbled.

Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the sheets as hard as you could. You were approaching your orgasm quickly and you weren't going to be able to hold back any longer. Your pussy clenched around Bucky's cock making him throw his head back in pleasure.

"Please, Bucky," you whimpered.

"You wanna come, darling. You wanna cream all over daddy's cock?"

"Yes! Fuck!" your arms shook before giving out completely; your head buried in the sheets as Bucky continued that same wild and rough pace.

"Please let me come, daddy!"

Your body felt on fire. No one has ever made you feel this good before, it was almost too much, too overwhelming. Tears brimmed your eyes from trying to desperately hold back. You wanted to come with Bucky but seeing as his pace had yet to slow down you were beginning to think he wasn't even close.

"Let go, doll."

Your body squirmed beneath him as you released all over his dick. You came with a near shout, your body violently trembling from the intensity of your high. Bucky slowed his pace for your comfort, gently riding your orgasm slowly down despite his still aching erection.

He languidly rolled you over to your back, his hands softly rubbing your sides up to your breasts. You breathed heavily, eyes feeling droopy, all you could feel in that moment was his cum dripping from you onto the sheets.

Bucky, still knelt on the bed and still chasing his release, lifted your legs over his thighs gripping your hip with one hand and his cock with the other. You squeezed your thighs together when you felt his tip poking at your entrance once again, soft whimpers emitting from you shakily.

"Such a good girl. Gonna let me take you again? Gonna let me keep using you?" he moaned.

"Use me, Buck. I'm all yours," you breathed out.

Bucky pushed himself past your folds once again, your cum easily letting him slide in. Both his hands made home on your hips gripping hardly surely to leave marks for you to remember this very moment. You looked at Bucky as his thrusts slowly began to pick up, bringing your own hands to your breasts to play with your nipples. You twisted the perked buds, moaning softly at the feeling as well as Bucky filling you perfectly once again.

"Filling me up so good, baby," you moaned, arching your back slightly allowing Bucky to hit a newer and deeper angle inside you.

"Pussy was fucking made for me," he growled.

His hand moved from its home on your hip right over your lower belly where he could feel his cock so deep poking his own hand through your tummy.

"Feel how fucking deep I am?"

You moved your hand and he pressed yours in the same spot under his and you moaned loudly, shuddering under him.

His pace quickened and for a moment he thought he was going to finally reach his high, that release he'd been thinking about for hours today, but when he felt you clench again, squeezing his cock tightly and he didn't cum, he knew it was gonna be chase that he didn't know you'd be up for. You gushed all over his dick, back arching and your legs pressing tight around his torso, coming with a loud scream of his name.

Bucky fell forward with tears in his eyes. His skin still felt hot and sticky. His sense felt dialed up to an eleven. It was all so overwhelming and all he wanted was to cum in you and hold you closer whispering how he really loved you. He pressed faint kisses to you equally sticky and warm skin and when you felt warm liquid dripping onto your skin to lift Bucky's head to find him crying.

"What's wrong, baby?"

“I can’t cum. I just wanna cum,” he whined.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok. I can go as many times as you need me to. I want to help you, let me do that.”

“Can- Can you uh… use your mouth please? I want to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock so bad,” he moaned.

“Of course, baby. I’d do anything for you,” you smirked before pushing him and crawling over him holding his dick in your hand.

-

Hours and literally hours had passed until Bucky was finally tired out only having cum three times compared to the fifteen-plus times you had. Your bed laid on the ground; the wooden stands snapped about two hours ago. Most of your sheets were torn to shreds and marks littered your body from your neck down to your hips and your knees from, well you know.

Your body shook as you laid in a fetal position. You burned between your thighs; the soreness overwhelming but pleasant at the same time. Sweat made what was left of the sheets stick to your body until Bucky pulled them from you to clean you. He used a warm towel all over your body with tears in his eyes whispering how sorry he was about everything.

“I swear I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m so sorry. I understand if you hate me now; if you never want to see me again. Just know that I’m so sorry about your bed, the blankets, if I hurt you, everything,” he sniffled, eyes and nose red and puffy.

“Bucky,” you whispered, your voice raspy and croaky from your moaning and screaming all night.

“Y/n,” he whispered back. You pulled him by the back of his neck into a soft yet passionate kiss.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed out when you pulled away. You cupped his face with shaky hands but a smile on your face.

“Do you mean it?”

“Of course. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I’ve dreamt about holding you far too many times, more than I’d like to admit. I should’ve told you sooner but like everyone else, I was scared you didn’t like me back; at least not this way,” he rubbed your legs indicating the intimate love he had for you.

“Buck, it’s virtually impossible for anyone not to fall in love with you. Unless they’re Tony,” you giggled as did he.

“Can you say it?” he asked softly.

“That I love you?” you smiled brushing your nose against his; Bucky practically purred as he nodded.

“I love you, James,” you whispered.

“Fuck, I love you too.”

He laid you down softly again on the broken bed pressing light kisses all over your collarbones and shoulders. You brushed his hair with your fingers as he clung onto you ready to sleep.

“Thank you again, doll. For helping me today,” he said after a couple minutes of silence.

“Of course, my love. Besides I’m the one who ran into you with those damn daisies.”

“Thank god for them then. And for your clumsiness,” Bucky chuckled.

“Meanie,” you snorted, making Bucky laugh even more.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Buck.”

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

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[rocorambles]

Patient 1: Addiction

Pairing: Toji x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Predator and Prey themes, Cum play, Knife play, Non-Con, Degradation

Link to: Prologue

Patient Name: Fushiguro Toji

Diagnosis: Adrenaline Addiction

Your brow furrows as you stare down at your first patient’s files. An addiction isn’t uncommon, but to adrenaline? You suppose it’s possible to become addicted to just about anything. Yet there are a million questions buzzing on the tip of your tongue as you turn to Uraume who just shrugs and says you’re better off hearing it straight from Toji’s own mouth.

Everything about this psychiatric facility is strange and you curiously stare at the elevator buttons as both of you descend, noting how each button has a name of a patient next to it with the final button having no label.

“Each patient has their own floor. They’ve been here for so long that we thought it would be more humane to give them ample room to live in instead of the standard patient rooms you typically see in other facilities. After all, we’re not here to treat them like caged animals, right?”

The humanitarian in you can’t defy that logic, but you can’t help but wonder if it’s safe for them to not be bound during your session, only to cringe at your own thoughts. They’re just ill patients, humans just like you, not prisoners. With that newfound determination you stride out of the elevator only to freeze when you hear the outer elevator cage slam close on your heels.

You turn, hoping to see Uraume right behind you, but your heart sinks when you see them safely on the other side of the metal fence, an eerie grin on their face as the actual elevator doors slide shut, leaving you with some parting words.

“I’ll see you when you’re done seeing all your patients today.”

Not even seconds pass before you’re scrambling to look for a button or anything to help pry open the elevator doors, fear overwhelming you as Uraume’s ominous farewell haunts you. But there’s no escape and you turn around to take in your surroundings, trembling and on the verge of tears.

Expansive is an understatement and you nervously walk around the dimly lit area, quickly losing track of all the rooms, corridors, and dead ends you bypass and amble through despite doing your best to keep track of everything. It almost feels like it’s meant to be a maze or obstacle course of sorts…

“Well, well, well. Look at the new little mouse I’ve found.”

Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest only to still in shock when you see a familiar face grinning at you, immediately connecting it to the manilla folder tightly clenched in your hands.

“Fushiguro Toji?”

“And you must be the new shrink. Follow me, doc. I’m sure you have a lot of questions. They always do.”

You don’t want to think about what’s happened to your predecessors, this “they” Toji’s referring to. You don’t want to follow this stranger. You don’t want to be trapped in this unknown environment with a highly dangerous patient and no means of escape. But what choice do you have? And with limbs weighted with despair, you trail after the dark haired man.

You’re surprised when Toji leads you into a room not far off from the police interrogation rooms you’ve seen in movies. A single table with a chair on either side are the only furniture in the room and you quietly take a seat across from where Toji has casually slumped himself down. But you note how his large stature easily overwhelms the small space, making the substantial table between you seem meaningless.

There’s silence as you fidget and fumble with Toji’s file, trying to find any professionalism and composure you have left as said patient continues leering at you, an amused smirk ever present on his face. It feels silly to treat this like any other examination, but it seems like the only thing you can do, what Toji himself is expecting of you.

“What is...what is adrenaline addiction, in your own words?”

You wonder if this is what opening Pandora’s box felt like, the question barely out of your mouth before regret instantly seizes you as Toji’s grin only grows wider and sharper, a crazed look in his eyes when he replies.

“It means I like being excited a little too much, doc.”

“And what excites you?”

You don’t want to know his response, but it’s the only way forward and dread fills you as he responds.

“Oh, lots of things. The burn of my throat and rush to my head after taking a shot. Gambling and the uncertainty of whether you’ll win or lose. The look of despair on my victim’s face when I shove a knife through their beating heart. The way it feels so fucking perfect to shove my dick in any tight hole it’ll fit in. But you know what makes me the most excited, doc?”

It’s theatrical how he tapers off, green eyes piercing you as he silently orders you to acknowledge him. And all you can do is shake your head side to side, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you play right into his hands.

“What makes me the most excited is the thrill of hunting pretty prey like you.”

Instincts have you jumping out of your chair and bolting from the room. You don’t dare turn to see if Toji is chasing you down, his amused cackle at your expense trailing behind you. You’re blindly running, no sense of direction as you randomly turn left and right, your only prerogative to keep moving, hopefully farther and farther from your patient. Every corridor, every passage, every room looks the same and you struggle to breathe as quietly as you can despite the way your lungs ache.

You strain to listen, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the drumming of your racing heart and you don’t hear the figure casually ambling towards you until you’re being roughly shoved face first into the wall you’re leaning on, a toned figure pressed against your back, caging you in.

“Now, now. You’re making this way too easy. Tired already?”

It’s a rhetorical question, one you can’t bring yourself to answer anyway, not with the way your teeth chatter and your body trembles in fear as Toji loudly inhales your scent while he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, tongue lazily licking a strike of your salty sweat.

You sob as he harshly bites down, not enough to break skin, but enough to leave you aching and hold you still as his hands wander underneath your clothes, groping and kneading your breasts and ass. You’re too scared to move, fearing the consequences of resisting, praying that maybe this is it, that you’ll be let off when he gets his fill of feeling you up. But you can’t help the way you yelp and instinctively struggle against his hold when he tires of your frozen state and decides to ruthlessly twist your nipples and shove a thick finger into your tight hole.

“There we go. Glad to know you’re still alive and kicking. I don’t enjoy fucking dead and broken toys like that pink haired bastard does.”

Pink haired bastard? Your mind briefly flashes to a hazy picture you’re sure you had seen in one of the patient files. What was his name-

You shriek as Toji shoves another finger alongside the digit already in you, sobbing as you feel him stretching your walls, relentlessly pounding his fingers in and out of you, his fingers painfully pulling at your nipples. All you hear is his grunts in your ears and you clench your eyes in disgust when you feel a long hard object grinding against you, knowing full well what it is without even looking.

He’s going to rape and kill you. This is how it all ends. And you wait for it, the searing pain of that massive shaft impaling you. But it never comes and before you know it you’re moaning as he twists and flexes until he finds that soft spongy spot inside of you, insistently rubbing and stroking it with curled fingers as he continues dry humping you from behind.

You’re so lost in the sensations that you don’t notice how your body is betraying you as it unconsciously grinds back against Toji’s hand, your ass shaking and pressing even harder against Toji’s cock. It’s funny how easily you’ve lost any common sense, but you’re not here to be a vapid bimbo toy. He’ll save that side of you for one his fellow inhabitants who’ll appreciate it more and he abruptly pulls his now soaked digits out of you, snorting at how you whine from the loss.

You look so confused, so stupid as he rapidly finishes himself off, hooking down your bottoms low enough for him to shoot his sticky seed all over the inner fabric of your panties. And he grins when you practically moan as he pulls your undergarments back into place, cruelly tugging a tad too hard and wedging his cum and the stained lace deep between your abused folds.

You’re panting, looking like a wreck as you try to ground yourself from the dizzying confusion of being pulled right from the brink of an orgasm, the emptiness of your edging making your head foggy. But then something sharp is being pressed against your vulnerable neck and it’s enough to have fear jolt you back to your senses.

“Don’t be such a boring slut. Time to run and hide again. It’s playtime, bitch. Or maybe you need me to cut you up a bit. Pain’s always a good motivator.”

He’s barely finished speaking before you’re shoving him and his knife away from you and he whistles in appreciation as he watches you race away again, taking his time to tuck himself back in his pants. You’ll need as much of a head start anyway to even try and remotely make some sense of this labyrinth he knows every corner of. Not that any advantage will actually help you much. Toji’s never had a prey he couldn’t catch.

How many times has he found you and released you after defiling you just a bit more every time? Neither of you can keep track and only when Toji has shoved his cock in all three of your holes, filling every orifice with his cum and fuckig you until you can barely walk does your session end. It’s almost comical how he has to quite literally drag you back to the elevator you had come from and he cruelly laughs at the white sticky trail you’re leaving behind you with your loose holes unable to keep in the copious fluids.

You barely register what’s happening, too exhausted, too fucked out of your mind to even be bothered by the rough friction of the ground against your body, only mildly stunned by the fact that the elevator you had frantically tried to re-enter is now innocently open. And it’s with muted despair that you realize what fate has in store for you as Toji presses the button of the next lower level.

Gojo Satoru

The neatly labeled name is all you register before the elevator doors slide open and you’re shoved out of it, blearily making out the sight of Toji tauntingly waving at you from inside the metal enclosure.

“See you at tomorrow’s session, doc.”

Your world goes dark as the elevator doors shut.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Closed Casket.

Commissioned by the very lovely @99shadowcat99.

Pairing: Yandere!Demon Brothers/Reader (Obey Me).

Word Count: 2.4k.

TW: Toxic Relationships, Dehumanization, Codependence, Threats of Violence, Mentions of Death, Implied Imprisonment.

It was a closed-casket funeral.

For such a small detail, it bothered you more than it had any right to. You hadn’t been the one to arrange it, the one to speak to the undertaker and evaluate the damage – that was a responsibility that fell to her fiancé rather than you, a distant cousin, only brought up in conversations about postponed friendships and quickly thinning family trees. You’d done what you could to help, what a last living relative should do to help - paying for flower arrangements, speaking to financial advisors, sorting through her belongs and trying to guess at what might’ve held some sentimental value to someone more present in her life, but you never saw the body. No one ever offered, and you hadn’t known how to ask. She was gone, now, dead and buried, and you'd never gotten to see her, even if everyone who had said that it was probably for the best.

And it probably was. They were probably right. You wouldn’t feel any better, if you had.

And yet, you found it difficult to believe you could feel any worse than you did now, either.

Belphegor was curled around your arm. He had been since you came back from the Human World, slotted against your side, draped over your shoulders, and currently, splayed out on top of you, his face buried in the flesh just above your shoulder blade, his body forcibly tangled with yours in a way that was too awkward to be comfortable for both of you, a sacrifice he seemed more than willing to make on your behalf. You’d tried to shrug him off earlier, when he first decided there was enough space on the smallest loveseat in the common room for his strange, daily ritual, and when that failed, you’d tried to talk him into letting go, into loosening his grip enough for you to slip away when he fell asleep, into relocating to somewhere else, somewhere softer, somewhere with a pillow that could easily replace you when he was too busy tossing and turning to care, but Belphegor had always been so frustratingly picky when it came to where, how, and when he chose to sleep.

He’d chosen you, and he’d chosen like this, and he’d chosen now. There was little you could do to change his mind, after he’d already made it up.

Still, you tried. He wasn’t asleep yet, caught somewhere between permanently half-conscious state and a sleep deep enough to warrant medical concern for most living creatures, supernaturally inclined or otherwise. “Belphie,” You called, gently, pushing the temptation to try more forceful methods into the back of your mind. “Think you pick another spot? Just for today?”

“Can’t.” It was a simple response, his voice heavy with sourceless exhaustion, just as short and just as blunt as it had been the last time you asked. You weren’t sure what you’d expected, honestly. “You were gone. I can’t.”

Your frown deepened. You’d left for a week – nine days, at most. And Belphegor couldn’t have been awake for more than half of that. “That’s not--”

“He was lonely, sweetheart.” It was Asmodeus, this time, as he perched himself on the loveseat’s arm. He wasn’t any better than Belphie, nimble fingertips soon tracing aimless patterns over the side of your neck, the dip of your shoulder, taking up the space he could occupy since the space he’d like to was already in-use. “He’ll get better, in a few days. Once it sinks in that you won't be leaving again.”

You were out of practice. A month ago, you would’ve known better than to respond, than to ask questions to someone who took as much delight in festering doubts as Asmodeus did. A month ago, you would’ve brushed him off and found your way to Purgatory Hall for the rest of the night. But, it wasn’t a month ago, and you were tired. You were still thinking about that casket, and you couldn’t seem to think of much else. “What do you mean?”

“Oh?” There was a pause, a laugh, light and melodic and fluttering. You’d always liked his laugh. You could bring yourself to enjoy it, though, not right now. “No one’s told you, yet?”

“Don’t tease ‘em.” You hadn’t noticed how full the common room had gotten, not until Mammon spoke and you reflexively turned to face the sofa opposite to yours. He was standing, leaning against the back, his hands clasped in a way that’d put his anxiety on display far more transparently than his voice ever could. Beelzebub, too, his arms crossed over his chest as his attention shifted idly between you, the console in Leviathan’s hands, and the book splayed out in Satan's lap, his scowl serving as evidence of his annoyance. It always bothered you, how easily he grew frustrated by situations he chose to put himself in. It bothered you a little more, today. “Might as well spit it out, if you’re going to bring it up,” Mammon went on, shifting his weight, letting his eyes fall to the floor, then rise to the ceiling, then drift back to you. “There’s no point putting it off.”

“Weren’t you supposed to tell them, Mammon?” Beelzebub chimed in, absent-mindedly. If it'd been Satan, if it'd been Lucifer, it would’ve been pointed, malicious, purposeful. Beelzebub just sounded like he was trying to remind his older brother of something he’d forgotten. “You said you should be the one to do it, since you met them first. Then, when Lucifer said you wouldn’t be able to do it, you said that if the human threw a tantrum, you could just--”

“I didn’t say shit.” Mammon cut him off, his tone hostile, but it was a half-hearted anger, more petty than vengeful. “I said I could, not that I would, and Lucifer shot me down. If he hadn’t, there’d already be a deadbolt on every fucking door in the house. We wouldn’t be sitting around, talkin’ about it.”

“Every door?” Beelzebub looked confused. Then, he looked concerned. “I thought we agreed to just seal the exits.”

“I still think we should just use their bedroom,” Leviathan chimed in, never looking up from his hand-held. Something tightened in the back of your throat. Experimentally, you tried to pull yourself out of Belphegor’s arms, but he only held you tighter, and Asmodeus’ nails dug into your shoulder, rooting you back into place without a single word. “It’d be cool, kinda like a permanent save-point. We wouldn’t have to worry about baby-proofing the entire house, either.”

“We could use a leash,” Asmodeus suggested, never breaking his stare. He didn’t look away. You wished he would. You wished they’d, if nothing else, have the courtesy to wait until you’d left the room to start talking about things you didn’t know and didn’t want to know. “So we can make sure they’re always close by! Or, we could have Lucifer enchant a collar – having to hold a tether might get in way when I have to--”

“He’d never do it.” It was the first time Satan had cut in, but it was clear he’d been listening. His book was still open, his expression still concentrated, but he was tapping his foot, the disruption soundless against the thick carpeting, and you couldn’t remember the last time he thought to pretend to turn a page. He was listening, but he didn’t want to be. He was a part of this, but you doubted he’d every say as much out loud. You doubted he’d ever let himself admit he’d stooped to that level. “And if he did, we’d never hear the end of it. In a week, there’d probably be a new kennel in the catacombs, right next to Ceberus’.” He stopped, for a moment, shaking his head. For your own sake, your chose to believe the envy lingering behind his voice was his attempt at a bad joke. “You would prefer a bedroom, wouldn’t you, (Y/n)?”

He asked you a question. He was talking to you, now, directly, which was more than you could say for any of his brothers. It should’ve been an improvement. An opportunity, if nothing else, a chance to ask why Asmodeus was looking at you like that, why you could feel Belphegor’s careless smile pressing into your skin, but you hesitated, something catching in your chest. It felt too solid, too heavy, too rough and too jagged. It felt like it’d hurt to swallow down, later on, once the unease passed and you got over whatever scheme they’d planned out, while you were gone.

“I… What?” You weren’t sure what you wanted to say, but it came out as a question regardless, your reluctance blending messily with your confusion. “This isn’t funny. If you’re going to act like this every time I visit the Human World, I might have to stop coming back.”

Finally, Satan glanced up from his book. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve said he was smiling. “Right. Because you still think you're allowed to leave.”

The rest of the room fell silent. Or, maybe it didn’t, maybe it was louder than it'd ever been. You didn’t know. You couldn't hear anything, not over the sudden ringing in your ears. “I’ll have to, eventually. It’s not up to me.”

Beelzebub shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “It’d be safer if you stayed in the Devildom. We can’t protect you in the Human World.”

Leviathan’s grip tightened around his console. In the background, you could hear the plastic shell start to crack. “We wouldn’t be able to see you. Not all the time. Not for more than a few weeks at a time.” He was quiet, for a moment. Then, he added, “It wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t… It wouldn’t feel like it does when you’re here.”

Mammon looked away, letting his head lull to the side. “You belong here, with us. You’re supposed to be here. We’re just doin’ you a favor. No one wants to watch you figure out how fucked you’d be on your own.”

And, finally, Belphegor groaned, exhaustion heavy in the gravely sound. He untangled himself from you, but the freedom was temporary, fleeting, his arms snaking around your waist, instead, his face soon gracelessly buried in your chest. His eyes flickered open, but barely, just enough to let him stare up at you through his eyelashes, a thoughtless grin pulling at the corners of his lips. He wasn’t divided, not like his brothers were. He didn’t try to pretend he was above holding you against your will. “You're not leaving again.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even a threat. It was just a fact, to him. It was something that wouldn’t happen, that couldn’t happen, if only because his older brothers were willing to work so hard to make sure it didn’t. “We’re not gonna share you, anymore. We’re not gonna have to.”

You didn’t want to hear anything else. You didn’t want to be here, anymore, not if this was what it meant, not if it was going to feel like standing in front of that closed casket all over again, the urge to run and sob and scream silencing every reasonable thought you’d ever had. You didn’t bother trying to talk to Asmodeus and Belphegor, you didn’t bother trying to coo and edge and skirt around their anger, their unspoken threats, not anymore, not when your body was already standing on its own, shoving at Belphegor’s body and swatting at Asmodeus’ hand as he reached out, aiming to cup your cheek and tell you so gently to sit down and shut up. Beelzebub leaned forward, Mammon flinched, and you could’ve sworn you caught a row of long, pointed fangs flash across Satan’s sneer, but you didn’t care. You wanted to hit something. You wanted to yell. You’d wanted to ever since you came back to this damned house and its overly affectionate occupants.

“You don’t get to share me.” You couldn’t be shared. You weren’t theirs to share, even if they already seemed geared against the idea. You weren’t theirs to trap, either. You never would be. “I don’t need your protection, and you don’t need to see me, and the only place I’m supposed to be is the Human World. I don’t know what got into your fucked-up heads while I was gone, but you can’t just--”

“Sit down, (Y/n).”

You stopped mid-sentence.

Right. You’d almost forgotten Lucifer hadn't gotten a chance say his piece, yet.

He didn’t give you time to cooperate. There was already a fist curled around the back of your collar, dragging you back into your seat, the action so much more aggressive than Belphegor’s oppressive dead-weight or Amsodeus’ sweet, sickly temptation. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel Lucifer looming over you, standing tall, towering above his younger brothers as he took control of the room. You wondered if he’d been here the entire time, if he’d heard everything, rather than just your sudden outburst. You wondered if you should hope that he had.

“We missed you, while you were gone.” He didn’t sound mad. He didn’t sound mad, but none of them did, none of them sounded like they were plotting to keep you away from your home, your friends, the life you had outside of demons and angels and magic. None of them sounded dangerous, either, save for Lucifer. He’d always been easier to trust when he wasn’t pretending to be kind. “We’ve all been alive for centuries, and yet, you went and made a week feel like a small eternity. Do you know how difficult it is for a human to inflict that kind of suffering onto a demon?”

You didn’t answer. Across the room, Mammon laughed and Satan bristled. Belphegor melted back into your side, more than happy just to have his resting place scared into immobility.

“You’ll stay.” It was an order, this time. Not a suggestion, not a passing concern, but a command, something you would be expected to obey. He had the nerve to use that low, calm cadence, measured and pre-meditated. He didn’t want to let you convince yourself he was as prone to bluffing as his brothers were. “You’ll stay because we want you to. We’re willing to use force, but there’s no need for that. Is there, love?”

You nodded, your body tense and your eyes glassy, and Lucifer rewarded you with a breathy chuckle, a row of knuckles delicately pressed to your cheek. A miserable reward for such an unwilling sacrifice, but Lucifer didn’t seem to mind. It certainly didn’t stop him from leaning in, his lips brushing against the top of your head, his voice falling just low enough to make something sharp and cold shot down your spine, as he went on.

“It’s not like you have anything to go back to, anymore.”

[presidentdisastraofgallifrey]

In my headcanon, Time Lords generally live in one regeneration between 500-2,000 years, averaging at about 900, except for their first one, which ages naturally at about half the rate of a human and rarely lasts much over 200 years. A common academy graduation gift is a full boxed set of 500-year diaries embossed 1-12, enough for a daily record for 6,000 years. I completely made up the age ranges (basing them off of nu who stating that Nine is around 900, I know there’s contradictions), but they’re all logical as far as I can tell

One was aging in his first regeneration when he left Gallifrey and regenerated at a respectable age.

Two can’t have had THAT long in that body because Jamie was with him for almost all of it. 30 years is pushing it but I like to imagine that some companions are around for longer than the show can depict them aging.

Three was mostly stuck with UNIT for his life, but I think he might have gotten a decade’s worth of running around in after meeting Sarah (largely not WITH her, though). I might need to shift a few years here because I just remembered that he’s supposed to have spent a whole decade dying of radiation in the tardis before appearing back at unit.

Four has a lot more flexibility between companions, and I insist on him and Romana, both Time Lords, hanging out for a full century together. But he’s still him and there’s no way he lasts more than 220 years before getting himself killed.

I haven’t seen Five-Eight yet and need more data to infer their ages.

Nine is very very short almost any way you look at it. You could argue he spent a bit wandering before the show but I like the idea that he was fresh out of the war when he met Rose. And then he spent his entire life with her, so 6 years is almost too much.

At this point I needed him to start aging faster, but also Ten has a lot of time between companions and also procrastinating his death. 400 years felt right.

Eleven stays on Trenzalore a LONG time. And also has time between companions to fuck off around the universe. He gets decades-long hyper fixations. More than 1,000 years makes sense.

Twelve gets over 2,000 because…well I needed to make up time but also he just feels like he would do that. Go stare grumpily at a rock for decades. Travel the universe alone between companions and refuse to enjoy it.

I would LOVE Thirteen to last longer but Yaz is with her literally the entire time. I stretched it to give them 20 years, another 10 where she abandons her fam and fucks off, and the other 60 are just her in prison.

Fourteen stays for Rose’s whole life, and then for her children’s whole lives, and then chooses to regenerate.

Which puts Fifteen at a nice 5,000, which feels like his age.

(Also they don’t count War in their age calculations both because it’s in character and I refuse to factor him in when trying to give classic Doctors more than a few decades each)

Fic idea I’ll probably never get around to number 8,346: excerpts from the Doctor’s 500-year diary

He keeps one in every regeneration except War and the first half of Nine (he starts again after the Doctor Dances). Mostly it’s extremely intermittent, with years between, but often enough that he happy rants about every single companion. Well, One and Twelve mostly grumble about life and humanity and you have to read between the lines for their adventures and friendships, but all the others talk excitedly about their buddies constantly. Three also complains a lot about his situation, but gets distracted going on long excited ramblings about Bessie, random experiments, and Liz/Jo/Sarah. Fourteen is the only one to keep it almost daily, and he talks about his daily life with Donna in the same thrilled tone that the others use to describe new planets

[atticuswritesstuff]

Chrollo with a smarty pants/genius darling who acts out or tries to escape just because they’re bored/understimulated?

Author's note: I actually really fucking love this prompt so I am SUPER excited for this one. I too get very bored/understimulated often. Sorry, I got to it late cuz I just got back from a Montana trip!

Yandere!Chrollo x Bored!Reader

Summary: Chrollo's darling becomes bored being locked up all the time, decides to take yet another unsupervised trip out of the mansion.

Warnings: Anal/Assplay, overstimulation, punishment, spanking, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, yandere themes, BDSM themes, degradation

Character Description: afab, she/her use that's it

Word count: 4.5k

Attempt number seven. Seven times you had slipped through his fingers since the beginning of the year alone, each time becoming more and more elaborate.

Chrollo scoffed, storming through the woods, scanner in hand. It was beeping softly, indicating you weren't far.

It wasn't like you made any attempt to escape discreetly, jamming a fork into the neck of one of Chrollo's guards, puncturing his jugular before you made your way through the garden to the edge of the forest. As Chrollo watched a recording of it from the cameras, he was shocked at how nonchalantly you stabbed him before calmly walking off. If you had intended to run far, you weren't moving very fast.

The tracker started beeping a little faster now. He was getting closer.

The early April air was nipping at his cheeks, he couldn't fathom how you were out here in your pajamas, barefoot at that. Chrollo was more worried about you than just finding you. While your previous attempts had been clever, methodical, and downright genius, this time was very different to him. As far as he knew, you'd never killed anyone, and now you had decided to not only kill someone but patiently wait for him to be unfocused before sneaking upon him. You planned this.

Chrollo walked a couple more meters, finding the tracker was leading him to the nearby lake. When he came to the forest's edge, he could see you sitting at the edge of the dock, staring up at the moon.

You heard him approaching as soon as he broke through the treeline, it took him a bit longer to retrieve you than expected, although you attributed that to him thinking you were going to try and run far. A couple miles from the house wasn't necessarily far for a commoner, but this was farther than you'd ever been allowed.

Chrollo's heavy footsteps walked the length of the dock, stopping right behind you. He knew you would come quietly, after the first few times, you'd stopped escaping to try and get away, instead, you found the chase to be much more thrilling.

"Time to go, darling," He hummed nonchalantly.

"Five more minutes," You replied, swishing your feet through the near-freezing water, "The moon is so pretty tonight, wouldn't you agree?"

Chrollo gazed down at you, you were surprisingly clean considering you'd just stabbed someone. Not a single drop of blood on you anywhere. The only thing shielding you from the cold being a thin cami and a shamefully short pair of shorts.

Chrollo always admired your body, but the pajamas were a nice touch. They were a recent purchase, baby blue fabric with white lace trim, god how he wanted to tear the set off you.

"I didn't think you'd have it in you to take a man's life, darling," Chrollo stated.

"I didn't either," You chuckled, "But it's done now."

"Why not just sneak away?" He replied, sitting on the dock next to you, "He was unfocused, you could've done it easily if this was where you intended to go all along."

"You're right, I didn't have to kill him," You sighed, bringing one of your feet onto the dock, "I just wanted to see if I could. You left an anatomy book on your desk, I found the major arteries of the body to be very interesting."

"Now that I think about it," You continued, "Maybe I should've run farther, seeing you so desperately trying to find me is rather amusing."

“You enjoy being chased like a rabbit?” Chrollo mused.

“Believe it or not the thrill is more exciting than anything you’ve ever gifted to me,” You scoffed, “At least running gave me something to do that required thought. Something you seem to forget to provide.”

Poking at Chrollo’s care tactics wasn’t smart, but you didn’t know how else to get through to him that your current environment was extremely understimulating, and that you needed more. You could tell he was growing upset, but he wouldn’t dare show it outside of the house.

You pulled your knee to your chest, resting your cheek against it, "Do I have to go back?"

"Of course you do, darling," Chrollo replied, a warm hand rubbing up and down your back, "Why wouldn't you?"

You scoffed, "Probably because being a prisoner of marble and glass is dreadfully boring."

Chrollo's hand stopped, "You think the life I've worked so hard to build is boring?"

"Yup," You replied flatly, "Honestly I thought you kidnapping me would be a lot more fun, but it's even more boring than my old life."

Chrollo was becoming angrier with each word that came out of your mouth.

"Don't get me wrong, I know how hard you try, but my god I don't know how you stand it. You're sweet and all, but you're gonna bore me to death sooner or later, escaping actually gives me something to do," You hummed, pulling your other foot out of the water, "Anyways, we can go back now, this chase was more boring than I expected."

You rose from your place, turning to walk back to your cage. It took Chrollo a minute to get up and follow you, partially from the shock of your completely arrogant and nonchalant demeanor. The person you had become over the past two years almost reminded him of a certain magician he once knew.

Chrollo eyed you as your hips swayed, every muscle in your leg flexing and relaxing as you walked. It was something he adored about you, before he took you, you were one of your tribe's best, strongest dancers. The way you swayed and glided while you did the most basic of tasks was alluring to him. Now, he just watched you sit around and observe everything.

The view from walking behind you wasn't necessarily bad, though. Your pajama shorts gave him a nice view of your ass as you walked.

Sauntering through the woods, you could no longer hide how cold you were, the incessant shivering and blue tint to your skin proved that fact. Your feet even more so from being in the water.

You knew Chrollo was upset with what you'd said, you could tell immediately, but keeping the truth from him wasn't an option anymore. You had started to care for him some time ago. You really appreciated him, but god if he didn't allow you to do something you were going to lose your mind.

When you could just barely make out the edges of the garden approaching, you stopped mid-path, "Chrollo?"

He caught up to you in an instant, "Yes, darling?"

"I don't want to go back if I have to live like this," You felt tears well up in your eyes, "Please."

His hands found your hips, "Live like what? Talk to me darling, how can I make it better?"

"I don't want to just sit around and wait for you to come back. I'm tired of you being at my beck and call. O-Or just fucking sitting around waiting for you to come back," You felt a solemn tear roll down your cheek, "It's so fucking boring. Please just take me with you or give me something I can do for you or-"

"Darling," He cut you off with a firm hand over your mouth, the other still settled on your hip. He shushed you softly, lessening the pressure on your mouth, "Don't panic, I'm listening. I promise I'm hearing you, just speak slowly alright?"

You nodded, he took his hand off your mouth slowly, "Keep going, what can I do to help you?"

You thought about it, more tears spilling down your cheeks, "Take me with you. Don't leave me by myself anymore. I just want to be useful."

Scooping you up bridal style as he headed towards the garden, "I understand. Even in your old life, you were always helping others, weren't you?"

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and tucking your head into him. Closing your eyes, you breathed in his scent, trying to commit it to memory.

Chrollo's feet hit the marble floors of the hallway that led into the house, you could feel his warmth returning as he carried you inside.

"While I understand your frustrations, you did try to escape my love," He started, bringing you into your shared bedroom, "And that requires a punishment."

You winced, shaking your head against him, "Please, not again! I'm really sorry Sir I can do better-"

"No," He shushed you, setting you on the foot of the bed, "I have the solution to your problem, but only if you take your punishment, alright?"

You nodded slightly, your tear-stained cheeks slightly puffy and red from the cold.

"Alright," He purred, his hands rubbing up and down your shoulders, "I'll try to make this at least somewhat pleasant for you, ok?"

You nodded once again, finding comfort in the fact that he was at least going to please you.

"Lay back for me," He stated, pushing you back by your shoulders, "I'll be right back."

You stared up at the ceiling in anticipation, the last punishment was hard enough, but you couldn't pass up the opportunity to finally get out of the house. Chrollo had returned from the closet, setting something on the bench at the foot of the bed. He took off his shirt before crawling over you.

"You know what your punishment is, right?" He asked, a face cupping your cheek.

You nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl," He whispered, leaning down to give you the softest of kisses, just barely ghosting over your lips as he pulled the knife out of his back pocket.

Pressing it to your throat, you froze, knowing it had already begun.

"Just focus on me, darling," Chrollo whispered against your lips, "I won't cut you."

He kissed you once more, harder this time as he slowly dragged the knife down your neck. It was a 50/50 chance he would intentionally cut you, even if he said he wouldn't. It was the only thing he'd ever lied to you about, knowing that made your heart race.

His tongue invaded your mouth as he slid the knife down your chest, coming back up to cut your bralette off in between your breasts. You didn't even register the pain from him grazing you with the knife until it started throbbing.

You looked down, seeing a thin line of blood-forming directly in between your breasts.

"Whoops," he chuckled, gazing down at the same mark you were. He sat up, straddling your hips and now pinning you to the bed by your throat. Your bare chest tempted him to carve his name into your breasts, then you'd really know who you belonged to. Chrollo briefly cut the straps of your bralette, allowing the flimsy fabric to fall away, revealing your breasts to him.

Setting the knife aside, Chrollo dragged his nails down your chest, briefly squeezing your waist before leaning down to press open-mouthed kisses all over your neck. He trailed downwards, backing off the bed as he kissed your waist, your breasts, swirling his tongue around each of your nipples lightly before backing off entirely.

"Turn over," Chrollo demanded.

"No." You said timidly, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"I'm sorry?" Chrollo replied smugly, "Wanna repeat that, darling?"

"I said n-no," You said, now even quieter than before.

"No? You don't want to be punished?" He asked, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs teasingly.

You shook your head to confirm that you indeed did not want to be punished in the way he was thinking.

"Even after killing my guard and escaping? You sure you don't want to be punished?" He asked again, his condescending tone making you whimper as you shook your head again.

Chrollo sighed, "Very well."

What? He's serious?

Untying the bandana from his forehead, he was quick to grab your hands and tie them together, placing them above your head, "I'll please you since I know that's what you really want."

Your heart jumped in your chest, somehow excited at the fact that you had gotten out of it.

Chrollo wasted no time cutting your shorts off, leaving you completely naked and exposed to him. He brought your legs up to the edge of the bed, bending them close to your chest, "Stay like this for a moment, ok?"

You gave him brief 'mhm' before he left, crossing the room to his chest of drawers. You heard him open it, the soft sound of things being moved around before he quickly came back. Craning your neck up to see what had been retrieved, you were quickly thwarted by Chrollo who pushed your head back down.

"Patience," He sighed, "Be a good girl now, hm?"

You grumbled, but let him hold you down. You knew this routine all too well, reminiscing about the fond memories of your legs pulling against the rope he was now starting to tie around your ankles. He took the time to tie up each leg, making sure they would not be able to come out of the bent position he'd placed them in.

"So pretty," Chrollo cooed, rubbing his hands up and down your waist, "Alright darling, eyes closed."

You shut your eyes as he brought a blindfold to your eyes, the soft silk being tied around the back of your head.

"There, now that you can't fight me," He started, using brute force to flip you over so you were bent over the edge of the bed, knees on the bench, "We can begin your punishment."

"That's not fair Si-"

A sharp smack was delivered to your ass, "Hush."

You went quiet, whimpering into the plush comforter.

"You"

Smack.

"Broke"

Smack.

"My"

Smack.

"Rules"

Each word was punctuated by a harsh spanking to one of your ass cheeks. You were only four in and it already stung.

"I'm sorry!" You cried, trying to wriggle away from Chrollo, "Please Sir!"

"Mm, please what darling? Please punish you?" He hummed, rubbing your bottom with smooth circles.

"Nuh!" You whined, your voice becoming whinier under the threat of fully submitting.

"I told you I would please you, but only if you took your punishment like a good girl," Chrollo hummed, leaving a kiss on each cheek, "Do you really expect me to please you when you're not going to comply darling?"

You whined, wiggling a bit more.

"What do good girls say, darling?" Chrollo asked, softly rubbing your arched back.

"P-please," You huffed.

"Please what, love?" He replied, quietly undoing the bottle of lube he had brought to the bed.

"Please punish me," You whispered, "Sir."

"That's my good girl," He hummed.

Chrollo squirted a bit of lube onto his first two fingers, letting it warm a bit before bringing them to your ass. Mewling as Chrollo started rubbing your puckered hole, he wasted no time plunging a digit into your ass.

"Fuck!" You cried out, feeling him slipping in and out up to his first knuckle. You shook against the rope.

"Aww, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were starting to enjoy this." He teased, pushing his finger up to his second knuckle, "You're taking me so well, I can only imagine how well you're going to do later."

You gave him a long, drawn-out moan in response. He wanted you to beg, either for more or for him to stop, either way, he wanted you to be a mess.

The discomfort started to fade as he pushed his two fingers fully into you. Now, you could feel your arousal dripping as he steadily finger-fucked your ass, trying to stretch you out best he could with just two fingers.

"Already taking my fingers so well," Chrollo cooed, picking up the pace, "I think you're ready to be punished, don't you?"

You shook your head, knowing what would come next.

"Oh come now, don't be like that darling." He replied, slowly pulling his fingers from your tight hole.

You whined at the loss of contact, while it wasn't quite the pleasure you wanted, it was starting to feel good. You waited patiently as Chrollo left the bed, finding the necessary tools needed in his bedside drawer before coming back to the bench.

In one hand, he held a set of purple anal beads that gradually got bigger, in the other, a vibrating wand he fully intended on using on you. While the vibrator wasn't ever used during a punishment, Chrollo saw it to be a mercy for your honesty, therefore, he would keep his word, making his punishment at least somewhat pleasurable for you.

"Tonight's going to be a bit different, love," Chrollo started, setting the vibrator on the bench, he began covering the anal beads in a generous amount of lube, "I need you to trust me, ok?"

You didn't know what he meant by different, you assumed more painful, but knew that there would be no pleasure without pain, "I trust you."

"Good," He hummed, rubbing the first ball against your lubed hole, "You ready?"

Your faint 'mhm' had Chrollo pushing the first ball in, earning a whimper from you. It wasn't much bigger than Chrollo's finger, but you could still feel it. Mere seconds later, he was pushing the second ball in, the equivalent to a little more than two of his fingers.

You were quietly whimpering and mewling into the comforter, hoping he wouldn't hear how much you were enjoying the slow stretch.

"I need your hands," Chrollo announced, pulling you firmly upward by your shoulders, "Put them here."

He shoved your arms down toward your pussy before pushing you back down on your chest. Before, your hands had been resting on the comforter above your head. Now, they were firmly squished between your thighs. You felt Chrollo press something round into your hands before tying your wrists up. Mid-tie, he readjusted the foreign object to rest against your clit.

The vibrator.

You began to squirm a little bit, knowing that this is what he meant by tonight being a little different. You waited patiently as he tied the ropes tight, making sure you wouldn't be able to move it away, then he turned it on.

"Ah...oh fuck," You moaned, the vibrator already working to make you come undone, "Sir.."

Your moans were becoming more sultry, needier, you began panting as your legs worked up to a steady shake, he knew he would break you tonight at this rate.

"See? I told you I would please you," Chrollo hummed, pushing the next ball in, you cried out even louder, "You have permission to cum whenever you'd like."

Knowing this was going to make it a lot harder, he wanted you to submit, to break, "D..Da-Ah!"

You were stuttering as the next ball was pushed in, your asshole stretching around it.

"What was that? I don't think I heard you, princess," Chrollo teased.

"Daddy!" You wailed, giving into the submission he so desperately wanted. Your pussy began fluttering around nothing as the vibrator sent deep shock waves through your pussy, "Please!"

"Please what, princess?" He smiled, palming your ass cheeks.

"Please punish me!" You moaned, needing more stimulation, "I'm sorry I tried to escape! I've been a bad girl!"

The sight of you writhing under him was pathetic, you were truly becoming a mess and he hadn't even really touched you. Seeing how hard you were trembling, Chrollo took pity on you. Watching your pretty pussy clench and release, needing some form of stimulation, he decided to at least grant you this mercy.

Plunging two fingers into your dripping hole, he crooked his fingers, quickly finding your g-spot, "Is this what my darling needs?"

"Yes! Oh, fu-fuck please daddy!" You moaned, fucking yourself on his fingers, "Gonna cum!"

"You have permission princess, it's ok," Chrollo reaffirmed, working his fingers inside you.

It only took seconds, the knot that had been building inside you finally burst, causing you to clench around his fingers. The vibrator held firm against your clit after, the pleasure becoming painful. You started to cry through the blindfold.

Chrollo licked the mess off his fingers before slowly starting to pull the anal beads out one by one. You whined and whimpered as he did so, the action only causing you to clench to avoid feeling empty. It did nothing, Chrollo continued to pull the remaining few beads out, your asshole gaping slightly

"Mm, you're doing so well baby," Chrollo sighed, pulling his own pants down. Pumping his cock a few times before rubbing the crown of it up and down your slick.

"Daddy! D-Don't do that!" You whined, trying to pull away from his ministrations.

"What? This?" Chrollo asked innocently, repeating the action.

You lost it, cumming on the spot as the tip ghosted over your pussy, your shame covered your face in a heavy blush. It barely took anything for you to cum with the stupid vibrator continuing to buzz against your clit at the highest setting.

"S-Sorry daddy.." you slurred, still trembling as you felt your mind go blank.

"Aww, is my baby that much of a cock drunk little slut?" Chrollo teased, pressing the tip of his painfully erect cock into your ass, "I know you are, my pretty little darling wanted to be punished this whole time, huh?"

You heard him, but could barely form enough of a sentence to answer.

Chrollo pushed into you slowly, relishing in the tightness of your ass, your gummy walls fluttering around him as you were overstimulated. The feeling of being full had your tongue lolling out of your mouth.

Once fully seated inside you, Chrollo slowly dragged his nails along your back before palming your ass. Pulling your ass cheeks apart with his thumbs, he gave a few long, slow thrusts, watching the way you clenched around his cock.

"Fuck," Chrollo moaned, "I almost don't even want to punish you with the way this tight little ass wraps around my cock."

You could only moan in response, trembling as he continued his tortuously slow pace.

"How many spankings do you think you'll receive from tonight's actions, princess?" Chrollo halted, only halfway inside as his hands trailed upwards along your outer thighs, "I think forty is a good number? What say you, love?"

"Nuh-uh!" You cried, wiggling against his touch as one of his hands left your skin, "Thirty!"

Chrollo chuckled at your offer, "I was originally going to settle for twenty-five, but thirty works for me, darling."

With a crushing force, Chrollo's hand came down.

Smack!

"Count, or I'll start over," Chrollo demanded.

"O-One," You whispered.

His other hand rose while the other soothed the spot he had just spanked.

Smack!

"Two!"

Smack!

"Three," Chrollo's hands were relentless, switching cheeks each time he smacked you in order to give your poor skin a break. He was merciful enough to rub the spot he had spanked before doing it again.

It took minutes to work your way up to the end, you came twice throughout the process as the vibrator held firm against your clit.

Smack!

"Twenty-eight!"

Smack!

"Twenty-nine!"

Smack!

"Th-Thirty!" You were sobbing, shaking uncontrollably under the weight of Chrollo's punishment.

"There we go, all done," Chrollo cooed, softly rubbing your cherry-red ass as he set another slow pace, "You did so well for me, darling."

A warmth grew in your chest, you really did enjoy being praised by Chrollo, even if it was after a punishment with his dick in your ass. He enjoyed it too, loving the way you clenched around his cock each time he spanked you, it took a lot of focus to not cum mid punishment.

You were writhing the pressure in your core already starting to build again, your trembling never stopped, even throughout your punishment. Chrollo kept up his word to please you, but god at what cost?

"I want you to cum for me again, angel," Chrollo hummed, his hands finding your waist as he began picking up the pace, "I want to absolutely ruin you."

"No no no! Daddy, I can't!" You sobbed, knowing you would be doing more than just cumming if this kept up.

"Oh? Is my princess trying to hide the pretty mess I know she can make?" Chrollo asked, knowing what you were implying.

Grabbing the knife, he cut the ropes from your legs. He rolled your limp form over onto your back, yanking the blindfold off so he could watch as you helped overstimulate yourself. With one arm by your head to support himself, he guided his cock back into your ass, resuming the brutal pace he set.

You held Chrollo's gaze as he went absolutely feral, drilling your ass while holding one of your legs up over his shoulder. You could barely conceal your tears at this point, broken moans showing him just how bad you needed a break, but he was intent on making you squirt before he stopped.

"I know you need this," Chrollo purred, pressing his forehead to yours, "Just give in to my love, your body wants this."

You started to shake harder, legs trembling even more aggressively, he was pushing you to the edge.

"Fuck! Da...Daddy," You groaned, knowing you were only seconds away, "Kiss me, p-please."

Pulling you into his lips as you came, your screams and cries muffled against Chrollo's lips as you drenched his cock and thighs with your cum. You barely registered the feeling of his cock throbbing as he filled your ass with cum. It took several seconds for your orgasm to stop before you were finally able to collapse back onto the bed.

Chrollo was quick to shut the vibrator off as he pulled out, knowing your body had enough. He admired the way his cum began slowly trickling out of your ass while he untied your hands.

"You did so well, darling," Chrollo praised, leaving soft kisses on the inside of your calf, "So so good."

His kisses trailed upwards, his lips softly tickling your thighs as he caressed them. He continued upward with his continued praise and love, making sure each part of you had received some form of physical attention before kissing you passionately.

You were still panting, your heart thrumming in your ears as he brushed your hair away from your face. At least he held true to his word.

With your hands now free, you pulled him in for another kiss, wanting to stay enveloped in his warmth forever.

"So, my little brat," He started, interlacing his fingers with yours, "Was this enough of a cure for your boredom?"

You giggled, giving him a weak smile, "It was, but as I recall, you mentioned what sounded like a more long-term solution to this problem."

"Ah, that," Chrollo sighed, rolling over next to you. You turned on your side the best you could as he gazed up at the ceiling, "I was thinking you could officially become a spider."

Your breath hitched in your throat, "You mean like part of the phantom-troupe?"

"Yes," He replied curtly, "You'd be with me all day every day, same rules apply, but it would give you a chance to use that intelligence of yours."

You grinned, thinking it over, "Sure, why not?"

[evacado3]

Hey 😃 can I request about Vasco with s/o who taller than him? Thanks 🏃🏻‍♀️

Ngl, was kinda surprised when I received this. Me myself is not very tall sooo it might be a little confusing, I’ll still try but don’t judge too hard 😅

hcs

To him it doesn’t matter, nope

Though Jace kinda sees you as a threat

You might have been mistaken for the leader instead

Will try the hair pulling thingy again with you after seeing little Daniel succeed

Will challenge you to touching the door frame

Wanna teach you how to fight, but respects your hobbies

Jace thanks you cause Vasco's not crying for girls no more, and you actually drilled some common sense in him

If your Tabasco's girlfriend, unfortunately you are officially burn knuckles' queen

So don't too surprised if a group of tattooed guys follow you every where, come on they're only checking if you're safe

Uses BURN KNUCKLES SECRET MOVE [INVINCIBLE CHARIOT] for you

Be aware of the ceiling though, will kneel with their head down if you ever get hurt

Burn knuckles will not need a order from Vasco if anyone tries to hurt you, all of them will go berserk

Shopping havoc

Word count: 1213 one-shot

It's been a month of dating the head of burn knuckles, and you're still convinced that he likes kangaroos more than you. No he really made plans to adopt a kangaroo when you agreed to date him.

The scene was basically you blushing after accepting his confession, but only to hear his dreams of having that large animal when he gets married, leaving you very flustered in public.

Though what embarrassed you more, ever since you were young, was the fact that you are taller than the young man before you. You could see he doesn't give it a single shit about that, but insecurities don't leave after a day.

For the last month, every time you made a comment about your height, he'd make a baffled face. "I think it's cool, what are you talking about your height is perfect." No he really doesn't understand why you have it hard on yourself.

Did you fall in love, obviously, yes. Though Vasco doesn't comprehend the reason behind you're insecurities, he assures that not only is it normal, it's beautiful, you're beautiful. Some height ain't gonna scare homeboy away!

So that's why today you wanted to take your relationship on to the next level, the 'normal' level.

I know, the 'normal' level is very correct. Come on does Tabasco really understand the concept of kissing?

Yes, he might have given his umbrella to you on a rainy day, he might have pinned you to the wall just to ask "You do want McDonald’s or KFC?"

Obviously you knew he doesn't have any experience, so fine, you waited. But after another two weeks it came to you that if you don't bring it up to him, he will never figure that out.

So what better to do than teach him on a date? You've planned out all the possibilities and the events that might occur, it took days to work up the nerve to ask him on a date, alone.

Ok, alone. Not with some big group of guys following you, you even begged Jace to make it clear. Alone. He said yes after seeing your desperation, using his detective skills straightforwardly.

"Good luck on that, you might have to even show him a video on how to kiss."

Fine don't ask what video you chose. Anything to open up his eyes to this current problem.

So you weren't sure why, along with your boyfriend who showed up in a nice loose tee and jeans, you felt seven more pairs of eyes following you.

Are you kidding me?

"Hey Vasco, how you doing today?" you asked faintly, despite your height, you're a softie at heart.

"Hey, I'm great, so we going to get some clothes? I could use some new pants."

Yes he does, have yall seen him running around in pajamas?

You tried hard to ignore those guys at the back, what happened to Jace's promise? They all gave out a suspicious aura, everyone was basically looking. And it's whatever if they walked far behind, they're literally stuck to their leader's ass, not even leaving one meter of space.

You could say the date proceeded well on Vasco's side, it was a regular date and you even picked out some nice pants for him. But on your side? Uh... not too great.

Every time you tried to make a move, there just has to be something that stopped you.

"So babe, umm I was wonder-"

"Mister, we are having a sale this month, would you like to pick out another pair to get 30% off?"

As if that wasn't enough, the boys would send you looks of encouragement at the back like it would soothe your embarrassment.

Sighing, you stepped into the final store you wanted to go in.

"I'm gonna pick out some clothes for you too ok? Wait here." he said with enthusiasm, already running off without hearing out your response. Obviously you couldn't trust his choices, but let the boy have fun.

So you minded your own business waiting for him to come back, but why did the receptionist look at you like that. Wait, she turned back to her friend while pointing your way. What's going on?

You could see them giggling after exchanging some words. They both spun your way, one of them making her way to you and the other one just laughed trying to woe her back.

"Hello, yes you over there. How tall are you?" she snickered.

It was almost as if she was the one over towering you when she stared at you curiously. "Uh... I-I'm not too sure." you replied softly, wishing she'd leave you alone.

"Hey no need to lie, damn your voice doesn't suit you at all. I thought you'd sound like a man! You must be at least 180 miss girl!" she exclaimed, though everyone who heard knew, that was spoken disrespectfully.

But you could only nod and fidget a little, not wanting to cause a scene. There was already a few people looking over to you, but shooting glares at the clerk. You were happy that they knew she was the one trying to disturb you.

"Your little boyfriend over there, isn't he bothered? If it was me I definitely would be disgusted. Are you sure he isn't just playing? Oh, do you play basketball?" her ranting agitated the customer, but still showed no signs of stopping.

Your blood ran cold as she kept speaking, what did she say? Isn't Vasco bothered with me?

What if the reason that he hasn't shown me affection was because he was disgusted?

On the verge of tears, you muttered out, "please stop."

"What?"

"Stop, I do not feel comfortable with you speaking to me like this." you expressed clearly.

She scoffed when she recovered from shock, "hey lady, I asked-"

"I'm not." Vasco stated, popping out by your side. You flinched in surprise, but immediately blushing after he gently wrapped his arm around you.

"I heard what you said, and I'm saying I'm not disgusted or bothered by her." He said with a hint of anger. "Please return and do your job, my girlfriend will not like to speak with a girl like you."

Honestly, no words can express how happy that made you, your man stood up for your insecurities while being respectful. How did I end up with such a good man like this?

The girl gasp with an offended look, but looked down after meeting Vasco's eyes. She stuttered out a weak 'sorry' then fast-walked back to the counter.

Ignoring the cheers of other customers, he walked you out of the store. You were still dazed, eyes focused on the man whose eyes where ahead. Maybe the date was good after all.

But before he kept walking, an unexpected sweet peck landed on your cheek. Your face now resembles a tomato.

"Huh?"

Wait, what was that

THAT WAS SO CUTE

You saw in the between those guys, Jace sent you a sneaky wink.

"Was that ok?" Vasco asked, he doesn't look shy at all. Does he even realize what that means?

"Wait Vasco, continue no more, the queen is heating up!"

"The queen is all red!"

"Vasco you killed someone!"

Guess who got assorted out the mall today.

=================================

Forgive me for putting this in two parts and releasing it so late, I was busy memorizing the periodic table 😀

[padfoot-and-prongsie]

Is That My Bra? || Fred Weasley

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 1.9k

Requested: No

Summary: Things get heated when Fred steals your favorite bra from your room

Warnings: Swearing

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever created it

A/N: This is my first piece of writing here, please let me know what you think! I hope y'all like it :)

PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR STEAL MY WORK. REBLOGS ARE JUST FINE :)

George walked back to the small circle of Lee and Fred, a triumphant look on his face. Proudly he lifted up his left pant leg, showing his now clean shaven leg.

“Done,” George declared, causing Lee and Fred to both fall back in laughter.

“Nice job Georgie,” Fred said, after composing himself. “You wait until Angelina sees that.”

George grinned. “They’re only going to make her fancy me more.”

Lee snorted at George’s comment, finding the shaven legs more horrifying than attractive. “Get on with it George, it’s your turn.”

George looked between the two of them, before he landed on Fred. “Freddie my boy, dare or dare?”

The three had originally been playing truth or dare, but after nobody picking truth for seven rounds, they had changed the name to dare or dare. For the last forty-five minutes, the three of them had been sent on a wide range of tasks, from streaking through the charms corridor (Lee got a weeks worth of detention for that) to making a dirty comment in the ear of an unsuspecting Hufflepuff.

Fred pretended to think. “Hmm, I think I’ll go with dare.”

George looked around the common room, trying to come with a suitable dare for his brother.

His eyes landed on you, who was just making your way down the stairs from the girls dormitories. Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, were with you, and the three of you were laughing at a joke Alicia had said.

You turned, feeling someone’s eyes on you and sent George a look. He waved back wildly, and you raised an eyebrow, waving back to him.

You followed the girls out of the common room, heading towards the kitchens for an evening snack.

George turned back to the two boys with a wide grin on his face. “I dare you Fred to steal Y/N’s bra.”

Lee busted out laughing once more as Fred turned to George. “Easy,” he replied confidently, getting up from the circle.

A smirk played on his lips as he made his way towards the stairs up to the girls dormitories. He was only six steps up when the stairs flattened out, producing a slide that sent Fred tumbling back down into the common room.

George bent over laughing at his brother, who was now splayed across the floor and had attracted the attention of the few people present in the room.

“Jackass,” Fred muttered, picking himself up. “You knew that was going to happen.”

“I didn’t, I swear,” George defended between laughs.

Fred continued to glower, not buying it. “Give me a new dare, I can’t do this one.”

George’s laughter faded, his expression turning to one of thought as he tried to find a way around the stairs.

“We could go get your broom,” Lee suggested.

Fred nodded. “That could-” He let out a small yelp as he felt his feet leave the ground.

Looking down, he saw that he was now hovering six inches in the air and his brother was pointing his wand at home in concentration.

Lee let out a whoop of excitement as George lifted him up the steps.

Fred now stood at the top of the stairs, rubbing his head from where George had “accidently” bumped him into the wall.

“Go get the bra!” George yelled, causing a third year to fix the three with a horrified expression.

Fred walked down the narrow hallway, trying to locate your dormitory. After finding the right one, he pushed open the door, pausing for a moment to take in the sheer amount of clothes that littered the floor. He found your bed easily by the large Holyhead Harpies blanket that was stretched across the top. He himself had given it to you for your birthday last year.

Fred’s eyes landed on your trunk and a large smirk filled his face. Resting on top was a set of clothes, and beneath the shirt he could see the straps of a lacie red bra.

Fred slid down the stairs not three minutes later, sitting back down in the circle and triumphantly showing the boys your bra.

George applauded loudly, but immediately stopped when he caught sight of you coming back though the portrait hole with Alicia and Angelina, all three of you balancing numerous sweet treats in your arms.

“Shit,” George hissed, “it’s Y/N.”

Fred’s eyes widened and he quickly shoved your bra into his book bag that laid beside him, filled with the homework he had yet to do.

You walk past without a second glance though, heading up to your dorm.

~

The following morning you stood in your dorm, running late for breakfast as you hastily flipped through the clothes in your trunk.

“Are you okay?” Alicia asked, already dressed for the day.

“Yeah,” you replied absently, again rechecking all your clothes. “I just can’t seem to find my bra. Did one of you two take it? It’s the red one.”

Angelina snorted. “You know red’s not my color,” she stated, leaning over your shoulder to look in your trunk. “Just wear something else.”

You pursed your lips. “I picked this one out because it goes with my top for the party tonight, I have to find it!”

“You mean the top you’re going to wear for Fred?” Angelina asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

You rolled your eyes. “No you daft doxie!” You exclaimed, giving your best friend a playful shove. “You and I both know that’s a load of horse crap.”

Angelina only winked back, causing you to shove her again.

Annoyed at your bad luck, you glared at your clothes once more. You knew you had set it out just last night so you could find it the next morning. Now where had it gone?

After three more searches through your trunk, which only seemed to make it messier and more difficult to look through, you settled for a black sports bra instead, not your favorite but it would have to do.

~

After morning classes you found yourself running late to lunch after going back up to your dorm to grab the transfiguration essay you had forgotten to put in your bag that morning. Hustling down the stairs, your stomach grumbled, reminding you that you had missed breakfast.

Your pace quickened, rounding the corner into the charms corridor where you immediately crashed into an unsuspecting student.

“Shit,” you said, as you rather ungracefully stumbled back. Losing your footing, you landed on the floor painfully.

“Damn I’m sorry Y/N,” someone said, and you looked up to see Fred sprawled across the floor across from you, his twin not too far away, trying to hide his snickers.

“Don’t-”

You had barely started speaking when your eyes landed on Fred’s bag, which had slid across the floor in the impact. Your attention was drawn to the red lacie strap which was peeking out from inside.

The twins followed your gaze, Fred’s face turning into one of surprise as he had completely forgotten that he hadn’t taken your bra out of his bag last night, whilst George doubled over in a silent laughter.

“Is that my bra?” you asked bluntly, turning to stare at Fred.

“I best be going,” George said, giving you two a little waive, “have fun with that brother.”

You turned to Fred again. “Is that my bra?” you repeated.

Fred’s look of shock twisted into a smirk. “Quite possibly love.”

“How- What-” you struggled to find the right words. Finally you resorted to just saying. “You took that from my room.”

Fred nodded. “Yup, sounds about right.”

You turned to look at your bra once more, and Fred, sensing what you were going to do, dove for it just as you did. He was far closer, reaching it first though you landed on top of him just seconds later, your hand trying to grip the undergarment.

“Give it to me,” you hissed, as he held it behind his head and out of your reach.

Fred looked up at you, from where he was positioned underneath, his smirk only widening. “You know I hadn’t pegged you as a top, Y/N,” he said cheekily. “We might have some control issues later.”

You glared down at him, but he only winked back.

“Shut the hell up and give me the damn bra,” you snapped, lunging forward.

Fred firmly placed his free hand on your waist, holding you back.

“You’ll need to do better than that L/N,” he taunted.

You were now royally pissed off and desperately wanted to hex that smirk right off his face. You look back to where your bag had fallen several yards back, judging how fast you could reach your wand.

“Don’t bother love,” Fred said, reading your thoughts. “I won’t let you get that far.” He squeezed your hips for good measure.

“Now do tell me,” he asked lazily, his hand that was on your waist beginning to slide up your shirt. “Why is this particular bra so important?”

You slapped his hand, but that only seemed to provoke him more as his thumb was now beginning to trace circles on your stomach. Quickly, you glanced down the hall to make sure it was empty, thank Merlin it was lunch. You and Fred were still in a rather compromising position, something he seemed to indicate wouldn’t change anytime soon. Normally you would have been rather content with this too, but currently you were far too focused on retrieving your stolen bra and the redhead beneath you wasn’t doing anything to lessen your annoyance.

“I need it for the party tonight,” you finally grumbled.

Fred pretended to think. “That is a rather convincing argument, you should have started with that earlier. I as much as the next guy would be quite curious of this outfit.”

You flushed red, picturing the rather see through top in your head.

Fred smirked at your discomfort, his hand rising up your back. With no warning, he pulled you down, causing you to let out a gasp when your face reached a mere few inches from his.

“I am very curious of this outfit,” he repeated, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

You felt your heart rate quicken. His warm breath hit your face and you struggled not to sigh. You’re still angry at him, you tried to remind yourself.

Fred’s hand that was slithering up your back had now reached your bra and he let out a huff of annoyance. “Damn, sports bra, you’re killing me L/N.”

This time you were the one who smirked. “I would have been wearing that bra if you hadn’t taken it.”

“Now where would we be if I had done that?” Fred asked quietly, before pressing his lips against yours.

Almost instantly you kissed him back, your mouths moving together in sync. You felt Fred smirk against your mouth before he flipped you, causing you to let out a small yelp as you found yourself now looking up at him.

“I’m always on top,” he whispered huskily, crashing his mouth against yours once more.

Your hands tangled themselves into his hair, pulling him closer to you. His landed on your body, dropping your now forgotten bra on the floor. They traced your skin, running up your stomach and, despite Fred’s complaints, still managing to get beneath your bra.

“Fred,” you muttered against his mouth. “Can I have my bra back?”

“Only if I get to be the one to take it off you tonight.”

[wondersofdreaming]

Sex on Fire

Co-written with @radaofrivia​

Characters: AU Captain Syverson - Gynaecologist, dr. Syverson x female reader

Word count: 4.522

Warnings: NSFW! Smut, so smutty. Gamahuche. Licking. Bodily liquids. Fingering. Sucking. Hair pulling. Begging. And I’m out of whatever else there is, but I’m sure there’s more - let me know and I’ll add them XD

Author’s note: This story was co-written with the always gorgeous and incredible @radaofrivia​! She is the Brain to my Pinky! The Barney Rubble to my Fred Flinstone! My goddess Saga and my muse Erato! My drinking buddy and who will stay up till 4am with me to finish this story.

Please go enjoy her stories here:

Rada’s Masterlist

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

*Edit: The title was decided before I realised that it is a song by Kings of Leon. These two have nothing in common except for the title.

MY MASTERLIST

Sex on Fire Masterlist

Feedback is appreciated.

(Credit to original gif owner - if this is yours please contact me so I can give you proper credit)

The grey concrete building stood tall in front of you. You leaned your head back to see the top, but it was nearly impossible. All you could see were windows leading into the sky. A doorman in a black uniform stood by the entrance, watching whoever went in and out. He nodded his head with a stoic look in a greeting.

The lobby looked more welcoming than the outside building. There was a fireplace with three sofas surrounding it and a coffee table stacked with magazines. A few women were already sitting there, gossiping about the new dapper doctor that had rented the entire top floor.

You rolled your eyes and went over to the reception. A man stood to greet you with a smile, but he was talking to someone in his headset, which only took a few seconds before he hung up.

“I am sorry about that, how may I help you, miss?” he asked.

“I’m here for an appointment with dr. Syverson,” you said a little nervously.

“Ah, yes. I have a form you need to fill out,” he handed you a piece of paper and a pen, “The elevators are just right over there. Take it all the way to the 52nd floor. Another receptionist will be there to guide you further.”

You accepted the paper and went for the elevators. A chill went down your spine as the cold air from the air condition hit you. You pressed the button for dr. Syverson’s floor. An orchestral song started playing over the speakers. It wasn’t until you listened closely to the lyrics that you noticed it was ‘Nothing Else Matters’ by Metallica.

You closed your eyes, swaying to the beat of the soft drums. Lars Ulrich had been your celebrity crush as a teen, and you still listened to their older songs when you had a bad day.

The elevator doors opened with a loud ‘ding!’, pulling you out of your trance. Another receptionist stood at the opposite side. She looked up from the computer and smiled.

“Welcome to dr. Syverson’s clinic. Do you need help filling out the paper?” she asked nicely. You quickly scanned what you needed to scribble down. It was mostly your personal information and history of health.

“No, I think I can manage, thank you,” you smiled back.

“You can take a seat in the sofas, and when you’re done just fold it and put it in the mailbox, dr. Syverson will call you in, shortly,” she motioned to a black mailbox by the elevators that you had missed when walking past it.

You nodded and went for the sofas. The room was warm and comfortable with green plants everywhere. The sand-coloured leather sofas were softer than you expected as you sank down. You filled out the form and put it in the box.

Instead of sitting back down, you decided to walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and take a look at the impressive view of the city. Your eyes widened at how far you could see, all the way to the ocean, and if you squinted your eyes, you might have been able to see your apartment building, even the bar you had often been frequenting lately.

Dr. Syverson walked out of his office. He stretched his arms above his head, feeling a bit sore from having sat down reading his patients’ charts all afternoon. Now he just needed to check on his last appointment, before he could go home and enjoy an ice-cold beer.

His receptionist was packing her stuff, sending him a kind smile. The perks of working with his sister were that she didn’t try to seduce him, or leave her underwear in his white coat pocket like some of his patients tended to do.

He smiled back and looked around the room. His gaze landing on you. His first thoughts were not ‘oh there’s my patient’, no, his mind went straight to ‘YOWZA!’.

“Last patient for today, Luc. I’ll be leaving now, see you tomorrow,” he heard his sister say to him. She smacked his arm to get his attention. He was pulled back to reality, saying goodbye to her before walking towards you, changing his mindset from dirty to professional.

You gasped when a flock of seagulls flew by, making you take a step back and hit a wall. Except the wall had arms that grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor.

“Whoah, careful there, miss,” a deep rough voice said. You looked up and saw a man with a trimmed beard, a soft smile on his lips, and a mischievous look in his cerulean eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out. You quickly remove yourself from his arms, first now noticing that he was wearing the white coat signalling he was dr. Syverson. And if that didn’t kick your brain in gear, then the name tag on his chest should do it. Dr. Lucas P. Syverson.

“It’s all good. This way, please,” he made sure you followed him to his office. The wall colour changed to a more soothing beige colour and was adorned with colourful paintings. You didn’t notice what they depicted before you stepped closer to one. It was of naked human bodies in various forms and shapes, very fitting for a gynaecologist’s office.

He had various books about his profession, but a few stood out to you. One had a peach on the cover and was written by dr. Syverson himself. You were impressed but wondered about the peach until you saw the title that made you blush deeply.

“How to eat a peach for dummies.”

He motioned for you to sit in the armchair, while he plopped down on the opposite one. He grabbed a chart from his desk and a pen.

“I’ve had a look at your medical history, and the…” Dr. Syverson looked down on the chart, “three gynaecologists that you have been referred to have written that you are in a state of good health. Well, we’ll see about that, I’m not too keen on some of these doctors you’ve had appointments with. They’re as old as Methuselah.”

You let out a peal of laughter. The joke having put you at ease with the doctor, who was smiling as you calmed down from your fit of giggles.

You were a little bit shocked by this doctor. Dr. Syverson was nothing like how you had imagined him. He couldn’t be over 40, with the extended educational schooling he would have had to go through. You remembered having read somewhere that it took at least 12 years to become a gynaecologist.

“Oh my gosh, they were. Another thing they had in common was that they would take a “quick” peek, not caring that I was screaming in pain, and then tell me that I’m healthy as a horse.”

Dr. Syverson sat back; his brow pushed together. You could practically hear the gears turning behind his forehead. He ran a hand through his beard, which made you notice that he wasn’t wearing a ring. If he wasn’t your doctor, you might have asked him on a date. Had you only met him at a bar instead of his office, and not being his patient. Damn it.

“There is definitely an issue we need to figure out here. I want you to know, miss that I plan on solving this mystery. Please, tell me in your own words what you think is wrong?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but all the sentences you thought of were too embarrassing to say out loud.

“Miss, you can say anything here. Nothing leaves these four walls, I promise you,” dr. Syverson tried to make you feel more comfortable with him with his gorgeous smile. His presence alone was putting you at ease. How did he do it?

“It burns when I’m penetrated,” you confessed.

“Penetrated how? During intercourse or masturbation?”

“I haven’t had sex since this happened. I can barely stuff two fingers in there,” you blurted, turning tomato red, confessing something so private to a total stranger, but it felt great to finally say it out loud, like a heavy stone being lifted from your shoulders.

“How about I take a look? Let me see with my own eyes that you’re ‘healthy as a horse’,” he quoted the old men, making you giggle. “You can leave your trousers and underwear on the bench, and have a seat on the table. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The dashing doctor left the room while you removed your clothing. Feeling a little self-conscious, as you walked over to the gynaecologist table with the stirrups and sat between them, trying to cover your private parts with your shirt.

Dr. Syverson came back soon with a variety of scented candles in his arms.

“The smell of something nice usually helps my patients to relax a little,” he explained. He held them up for you to choose.

“This one,” you smiled and handed him the one called Ocean Mist.

“Nice choice, that one is my favourite,” the doctor grinned. He set the lit candle on his desk. The scent of a sandy beach and salty ocean soon filled the room. The doctor pulled the ultrasound machine towards you. You leaned back on the table inhaling deeply, willing your abdominal muscles to relax. The sounds of a guitar reached your ears. You watched as he set a portable speaker on the small table next to you.

“I hope you don’t mind a little music,” he said, smiling, while he put on a pair of bright orange gloves.

“I love Metallica, so please keep it flowing.”

“Can you guess the song I’m playing? Put your legs up here for me,” he patted the stirrups.

You lifted your legs, intensely listening to the instrumental version of the song.

“Is it ‘The Unforgiven’?” you asked.

“Correct, you’re good. This is going to be a little bit cold,” he squirted a large amount of gel on the ultrasound wand. He slowly inserted the rod inside you, pushing ever so gently. “How long have you listened to Metallica?”

You winced at the invasion but tried to keep your muscles from tightening around the smooth object. You didn’t see the set jaw on the gorgeous looking doctor. Your sweet scent was tickling his nose and making his mouth salivate by the thought of tasting you.

“Since I was a teenager. I’ve been to at least one concert per tour they’ve done,” you groaned in pain.

“I’m sorry, your right ovary is a little difficult to find. You’re doing great. Your left ovary is the epitome of health. Are you on any kind of birth control?” he asked casually, trying his best to make you feel safe around him.

“N… no… I…” your voice broke, and tears started streaming down your cheeks. Doctor Lucas quickly removed the wand, cleaned it and sat down next to you.

“It’s okay. Let it all out,” he told you softly. Concern for your well being was painted on his chiselled face.

“It’s just that… I haven’t had sex for years, YEARS doc. No man wants a broken woman, especially not a woman that cannot be penetrated without her screaming in pain.”

You babbled so much you forgot that you were in a gynaecologist’s office and not at a psychologist.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to blurt all that out,” you started to blush a crimson red.

Lucas fought hard not to pull you into his arms. His protective instincts were on high alert; he wanted to make you feel safe, make you feel loved. He was cursing the bastards who had hurt you. To him, women were the stronger sex, had to endure more pain than men. Women are precious, made to birth life, made to give love and be loved.

“It’s quite alright. You’ve had a rough time,” he patted your arm, the safest place to touch you and went to get up. “I’m going to feel around to see if there’s something I’ve missed with the ultrasound. What other bands do you listen to?”

You watched as doctor Syverson slapped on another pair of gloves and squirted a smaller amount of gel on his finger, on his long thick finger. You were practically drooling by watching him prepare to examine you.

“Eh… I listen to a little bit of everything,” you said. You laid back down and draped an arm over your eyes. Watching the handsome doctor working was becoming too much for you. He was stirring feelings inside you that you hadn’t felt in a long time, and not in this form or quantity. You had taken a look at his well-proportioned ass when he walked out earlier, and his black trousers did very little to hide his hefty package.

“I’m sorry, but, again, this is going to be a little cold. What was the last song you listened to?” he warned.

It was an erotic scene, watching him standing between your legs, one hand on your belly, while the other was about to enter your most sacred place. You felt him enter. A soft moan escaped your lips.

Lucas’ ears perked. He hadn’t expected to hear that sound coming from your full lips. Had he heard correctly? The little vibration from you sent a jolt straight to the beast he was trying to keep dormant. This wasn’t the first time a woman had moaned while he examined them, but you were different. Another sweet sound reached his ears. You were so responsive to his touch, so open, so reactive. His mind was racing, but one word kept popping up, more.

You had forgotten how to speak, how to form sentences, how to communicate. You could only feel.

“Miss?”

“Hmm?”

“The last song? You listened to,” he didn’t mean to sound so tense, but he had to distract himself, his treacherous mind, he needed to keep the small-talk going, to break the silence. He wanted to kick himself in the balls for thinking about you, while he was fingers deep inside you. His compassionate instinct was winning over his lust.

Stop it, Lucas! You’re a professional. You cannot mess up! You CAN NOT fuck this up! She needs your help. Lord, give me strength.

“Oh...” you murmured, coming back from whatever universe he had sent you to with his finger technique, “Ehm, before the Metallica song in the elevator, I listened to ‘What’s Your Country Song’ by Thomas Rhett.”

“That’s a great song. I like country music.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed you as a country kinda g… GOD!!!” you gasped as he curled his finger, touching the spot.

You released a louder sinful sound, a sound that hadn’t left your lips in a very long time. Lucas watched as your chest was heaving, gasping for air. The room was suddenly suffocating him. He felt like he was burning up from the inside. His breath was hitched, and he couldn’t form a coherent sentence. Why did you have to sound like desire itself?

“Does it hurt when I do this?” he asked, his voice lowering an octave and reduced to a velvety whisper. He hooked his finger once more, listening intensely to the sounds escaping you.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Your eyes rolled back in your head. You lifted your hips, moving your pelvis closer, needing more friction, needing to feel him deeper inside you.

Fuck!

He was watching you, vehemently. A fire was burning deep in his groin, heck even his eyes were flaming. His shoulders moved fastly up and down as he was heaving in the air through his parted lips, he needed oxygen, he needed to control himself. He was scolding himself for feeling like a horny teenager.

“This is… wrong,” he said in a panic. He moved his hand away from you. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist in a fierce grip.

“Please…” you begged, “please don’t stop. I… I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Please, Lucas… I need you… I need you to finish this.”

He could hear the need in your voice. He could smell your arousal. You were clawing your nails into his skin. The look in your eyes was clear that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. The same eyes were shining with unshed tears, begging him for release, and the sound of his name from your lips was making him so close to breaking his resolve.

“I… can’t… you’re my patient,” he groaned, his forehead showing the concerned lines of wrinkles, which made him look even more desirable.

“Can’t you make an exception? Just this once? Please...”

Lucas ran a gloved hand through his short-cropped hair. He turned away from you, needing support for his shaky legs he leaned against the back of his office chair. He was thinking about it, really thinking about it.

“Please, doll. Don’t test me. I’m standing on the edge, and I’m this close to jumping in with both feet. I can lose my career, and I don’t want you to regret this tomorrow.”

You watched as his shoulders sank. You moved off the examination table, pulling the hem of your shirt down to try to cover your nakedness.

“I’m sorry, dr. Syverson. I… I didn’t mean to put you in such a precarious situation,” your voice was small. Your gaze firmly on the wooden floor beneath your feet, you felt so ashamed to have tried to seduce your gynaecologist, who was only trying to help you. Lucas turned around to the sound of your voice breaking, and a little saddened that you started calling him his title again. Your cheeks flushed, your arms wrapped around yourself. You gathered the courage to move towards your clothes.

“Damn it!” he cursed. He moved towards you with the speed of lightning before you could take a single step. His large muscular frame wrapped around you, your head was laying on his chest, listening to the racing of his heartbeat.

“Say ‘you’re fired’,” he ordered, his voice husky and commanding like some kind of army captain, but it was also desperate. Desperate for you not to leave him. Craving your touch. Desiring, longing, yearning, lusting for you. 

Your eyes widened in shock as you processed his words. He heard you gasp as you realised what he was saying.

“Dr. Syverson… you’re fired,” you whispered seductively, although a little shaky too. You watched as the sweet and calm doctor changed before your very eyes.

He clashed his lips with yours in a hungry kiss. He was starving; his only thought was to taste you that was his only goal. Your scent had been making him insane; famished was more correctly described.

While holding you in his arms, he made you move backwards until your bum found the end of the exam table.

His kisses were desperate, and so were you. Your heart felt as if it was about to beat out of your chest. Your breathing was shallow. It was going to happen; it was really going to happen.

He lifted you up and made you sit on the exam table. He parted your legs and went to stand between them. He cupped your face between his warm palms, leaning down to kiss you again. He kissed your jaw and all the way to the shell of your ear.

“Please, don’t regret this,” he whispered and went to touch his forehead against yours.

“I want it, even more than you do,” you answered breathlessly.

With your consent, there was no turning back now.

He devoured your mouth while his hands roamed all over your body. He unbuttoned your blouse while you shoved his white coat to the floor. You pulled at his button-up, buttons were flying everywhere. He shoved your shirt down your shoulders and off your arms before he threw it somewhere behind him. You ran your hands up and down his hairy chest, wanting to feel all of him, not the doctor, but the fine specimen of a man that he was.

He removed your bra with a flick of his fingers. Slowly revealing your breast to him. Your nipples two hard buds, waiting for his mouth to suck, lick, bite, whatever he wanted to do.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. His voice was desperate, so filled with lust, but also something oh so sweet.

Lucas moved his lips down your collar bone. Feasting on your breast, nibbling at your skin, before he finally went to town with your nipples. With the first touch of his tongue on your left breast, while he pinched the right, you let out a loud guttural sound. Just him playing with your bosom was about to send you over the edge. The coil in your belly was so close to snapping.

“More… Please, Lucas, more,” you whimpered, pushing his head to the place where you needed his mouth the most, right between your thighs.

You heard him chuckle. He gently pushed you down, making sure you were comfortable before he hooked your legs over his shoulders for better access to your glistening desire.

“Fuck…” you mewled. The sight of the mountain man between your legs, the growing bulge in his dark trousers was so erotic you were about to combust. Your sex was on fire.

“Your body is divine, bug. It was made to be worshipped. I want to make the pain go away,” he said softly.

You didn’t get to say a word as his tongue ran along the seam of your wetness, making you shutter from the first contact. His tongue was wide and long, his mouth blowing hot air as he sucked your lower lips gently.

That tongue of his was everywhere, inside you, lavishing you, adoring every centimetre of your flushed skin. You lifted your head to watch him working you into a frenzy, right as he sucked his index finger into his mouth, coating the digit with his saliva.

The pleasure that he was giving you was overwhelming. The moment he pushed his finger inside your womanhood, was like nothing you had felt before. His finger was warm, and it was a whole different feeling than when he was gloved. His tongue darted out to play with the glistening pearl hiding between your lips, sucking in his finger. Your wetness allowed his movements to be smooth and easy, in and out, and he found that spot that made you howl in ecstasy.

“Luc… I’m… I’m so close… FUCK!”

The coil broke, snatched, ripped apart. You weren’t pushed over the edge, you were shoved, hard, and the pleasuring waves kept coming and coming. It felt as if your orgasm was never-ending. You never wanted to come down from that high. It was addictive.

You released your hold of Sy’s head from your thighs, not having noticed you had trapped him. You were panting hard, trying to catch your breath after the tsunami of an orgasm the doctor had given you.

Lucas’ palm covered your cheek, wiping the tears that had fallen from your eyes.

“Did I hurt you, doll?” his face scrunched in concern.

You shook your head, no.

“No… that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced.”

The smile on Lucas’ face was breathtaking. He was beaming with pride. You watched as he leaned back, noticing he was still wearing his trousers. The apparent bulge in his abdominal area looked painful.

You moved to sit up, motioning for him to stand.

“I want to return the favour,” you told him, unzipping his trousers. You were gentle, as the tent grew more extensive, the more you released his manhood from its confinement. You helped him out of his black boxer briefs and came face to face with the finest cock you had ever laid eyes on. You were drooling, licking your lips, dying to taste him.

“You don’t have to, angel,” he groaned as your tongue darted out to taste the precum leaking from the tip, hearing him growl, a sound coming from deep inside him.

“Please let me, Sy,” you pleaded, taking his length in your hand. You looked up to see Lucas nodding slowly. He groaned in acceptance.

You ran your tongue over your palm to lubricate it. Lucas’ eyes widened to the size of teacups. His cock jolting in excitement, his heart skipping a beat at the erotic scene happening right before him.

One hand touched his hips, moving to the small of his back, to have a grip on his ass, pushing him closer to your face. He filled your hand beautifully with his hardness, yet he was still soft to the touch of your palm. You started moving your hand up, slowly, hearing his gasp was turning you on even more than you already were. You smeared the clear precum around the glans with your thumb. Delicately wrapping your mouth around him. Your lips were stretched to max capacity, a voice in the back of your mind was telling you that you had to be careful not to lock your jaws, but then again you had a doctor right in front of you if the situation should happen.

You languidly moved his member further into your warm mouth, coating him with your saliva. Your tongue gliding over the tip. Lucas released a low moan that sent vibrations through his body. He lifted his face towards the ceiling. Your hand left his ass, moving down his thighs, tickling the backside of his knee, before travelling up the inside of his thigh and gently cupping his balls.

“Fuuuuuuck…” he guttered. You sucked the part that could fit in your mouth in synchronicity with your hand’s movement. He felt the tightening deep within his testicles. The hitching in his breath notified you of his coming release. You led his hands to your scalp, letting his fingers fisting your hair, before giving him a sultry look with his cock in your mouth.

He was grunting hard as he set the pace, while you did your best to keep up with him. Moving his hips, chasing his release inside your mouth. You relaxed your throat, letting him take over. You wanted so much to please him. 

“Fuck, sunshine… I’m so close,” he growled.

“Come in my mouth,” you uttered. It was like something within him snapped the minute you voiced the words. He moved faster, harder, rougher. Until you felt the first spurts of his seed hitting your palate. You swallowed everything he spilt and then licked him clean.

Sy fumbled with his office chair as he sat down with a satisfied hum and pulled you to sit on his lap.

“That was amazing,” he smiled at you, kissing the tip of your nose, your cheek, the corner of your mouth and lastly a lingering kiss on your reddened lips.

“Glad you approve,” you grinned back, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“About those books,” you pointed towards the books you had peeked at earlier.

“Theses I had to write for med school.”

“Tell me about them while you rest for round two.”

[kohanayaki]

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 6

You continue the tale of how you, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter became known as The Marauders.

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2    CH 3   CH 4   CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

___________________________________________________________

Ch 6 .:The Making of the Marauders:.

~Previously~

“That was when they were first starting to put the map together,” you continued, “but that wasn't even the biggest secret they had. Of course, I wouldn't find out about that for another year. . .”

“So at this point I knew that they were hiding something else, but not what it was,” you told Harry, continuing on with your story, “But one night we had planned to meet up and use the invisibility cloak to map out the underground tunnels that ran through the storage cellars, and they never showed up. So I snuck into the Gryffindor common room through the secret passage and found their dorm completely empty. But what was there was our work in progress map. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1975  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This isn't going to work,” Peter said flatly, watching James and Sirius draw a large circle in chalk on the floor of the Shrieking Shack.

“Not with that attitude it's not,” James said, “if there's a way we can speed up this process I'm willing to give it a go. I don't know how long I can go on with this bloody leaf in my mouth.”

“Is this even real?” Peter sighed, “it looks like what muggles think magic is.”

“It's real all right,” Sirius said, “old, but real. I mean, Transfiguration was founded on the principles of magic circles! I'm not really sure what these runes on the side mean, but it's probably not important.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Peter retorted, “Remus, back me up here.”

He turned towards Lupin, but he had long since dozed off, arms crossed as he leaned against one of the nearly decaying walls in the corner. Peter sighed, taking a piece of paper from the ground and crumpling it into a ball before promptly throwing it in the sleeping boy's face. Lupin jolted awake, realizing what had happened and chucking the paper back at Peter in annoyance.

“Not a moment of peace,” he huffed under his breath.

“Sounds awfully boring,” James said over his shoulder.

“Blimey, what time is it?” Remus said, panicked as he noticed the light had completely gone from the sky, “It's long past sundown.”

“So?” Sirius shrugged.

“So, we told (Y/n) we'd meet them to work on the map at dusk,” Remus said, “They're probably looking for us right now!”

“Oh, they are,” you announced your presence, an unimpressed look on your face as they jumped, whipping around to look at you.

“(Y-Y/n)!” Sirius stuttered, “how did you—”

You held up the map, raising a brow at the four guilty looking boys.

“Right. . .”

“You snuck into our rooms?!” James said incredulously as he saw the map, which he was sure he had left on his bedside table, in your hands.

“You've snuck into my shower before, Potter,” you glared lightly at him.

“Point taken.”

“Okay, look, I'm sorry we didn't show tonight, and I know we've been acting weird,” Sirius sighed, “the truth is—”

“Lupin's a werewolf.” 

The color drained from Remus' face, slightly mortified that you already knew.

“Come on, guys,” you said, “the claw marks and you lot disappearing whenever there's a full moon kind of gave it away. You aren't exactly subtle about it.”

You could sense the intense nervousness in the room, especially from Remus. Ok, so maybe coming right out with it wasn't the best course of action.

“Look,” you said, “if you're worried about anyone else finding out, they won't. I mean, the only reason I even knew you were here is because I'm literally helping you make a magical map that details all the secret passages and shows where everyone is. I won't tell anyone, I swear.”

They still seemed a little unsure, and you bit the inside of your lip slightly.

“If it'll make us even, I'll let you know a secret of my own,” you said, “it can even be future blackmail me if you really don't trust me.”

“No, it's not that, (Y/n),” Remus said as he stepped forward, his throat feeling dry, “it's just, well, I've never really told anyone except the people in this room. Having someone else know. . . it's just a lot to process, but if had to be anyone I'm glad it's you.” He paused for a moment, feeling oddly self-conscious as he regarded you. “When I turn into a werewolf I can't recognize any human as someone I know. I have no control over myself in that state. In the worst case scenario, I could injure or even kill someone I didn't mean to. We originally started taking note of the secret passages and rooms to find a place where I could turn safely and not hurt anyone, and we settled on here. I don't remember much when I come out of it, but. . . I do feel this painful sense of separation each time. Werewolves are pack creatures by nature, so being isolated in that state is. . . agony, if I must be honest. They all figured, I can't recognize humans, but perhaps I could recognize other animals, so. . .”

“They're trying to become animagi,” you finished, “so you won't have to be alone. That's. . . that's actually really sweet,” you said, a breathy laugh escaping you.

Remus thanked Merlin the Shrieking Shack was as dimly lit as it was so his beet red face was at least somewhat less noticeable.

“I agree,” Remus said, turning to his friends and sharing a rare, genuine moment with them. “And, you don't have to tell us your secret,” he said, turning back to you, “it's okay.”

“Hey, I wanted to know,” Sirius said, Peter swiftly elbowing him in the ribs.

“I was actually planning on telling you anyways,” you said, “If you guys are trying to become animagi, I can help you.”

You took a few steps back, bracing yourself against the wall.

“Promise me you won't freak out.”

After receiving a few quick nods, you kicked off the wall. Your body seemed to morph in mid-air, shrinking and re-configuring so fast that by the time you landed on the floor you had been entirely replaced by a large, (e/c)-eyed wolf with fur reminiscent of your hair.

Peter yelped, instinctively putting Sirius in front of him who was gawking at the sight. Remus was in complete shock and you could have sworn you saw James' glasses slip down his face.

In your animal form your heightened senses could sense their fear, and you tried your best to assuage it. You padded around in a circle, sitting down and blinking up at them to try and show them you were in control of your actions. After you figured they'd seen enough, you crawled back into your robes, which had pooled on the floor when you'd transfigured, and willed your body to turn back.

James, Sirius, and Peter looked somewhere in the intersection of shocked and terrified, but Remus looked nothing less than impressed.

“That's amazing, (Y/n),” he said breathlessly, “your transformation was seamless, how long have you had this ability?”

“My aunt had me go through the process when I was nine,” you said, a bitter edge to your voice as you fastened your clothes back around you, “it's not fun, but obviously useful. And thank you, but trust me, it didn't come at all naturally to me. I spent a good part of my winter break stuck with a wolf's hind legs, which is just as inconvenient as it sounds.”

“But this proves that it's possible!” James said, a new rush of energy invigorating him, “we can actually pull this off.”

“If I can manage to keep this sodding leaf from choking me every ten minutes,” Peter grumbled.

“Here, this should help with that,” you said, drawing your wand and pointing it at Peter's mouth. With a simple sticking charm, he suddenly felt the odd sensation of the leaf in his mouth disappearing, only to find it had melded with the flesh on the underside of his tongue.

“It's a long process, but yes, it's possible,” you said to James. Your eyes drifted to the floor where the magic circle and pages of runes were still scattered about, “if you were thinking of taking shortcuts, you might have wanted to read the warning about this spell requiring a blood sacrifice.”

The quartet paled and you laughed at their dumbstruck expressions.

“Kidding,” you grinned, “but seriously, there's no shortcuts. Now look alive, boys. We have a lot of work to do.”

_________________________________________________________

From then on, you helped the four wizards along on their quest to become fully fledged shifters.

“In order to become an animagus, a wizard must keep a Mandrake leaf in their mouth for an entire month, even when eating and sleeping,” Peter read aloud from the book they'd snatched from the restricted section, “Next, under a full moon, the wizard must place the leaf in a vial full of dew that has neither been stepped on nor exposed to the sun. The resulting potion must be stored in a dark place, and the following incantation: Amato Animo Animato Animagus, must be recited every morning until an electrical storm arrives, at which point the potion can be taken.”

“Blimey, all that to turn into a bloody cat?” Sirius said, exasperated.

“Well we have the first part almost done,” James said, feeling the faintest outline of the leaf still under his tongue, “Next full moon we'll have to go dew-hunting, I suppose. Looks like you'll have to stick it out for a few more cycles, Moony,” he said to Remus.

“That's alright,” he said, “I've made it this far.”

“He won't be alone for those,” you said, “I'll spend the full moons with him until you guys are ready.”

“What?” James said, looking at you like you'd just told him you were off to join Voldemort, “not a chance, that's way too dangerous.”

“Aw, don't act like you're all concerned about me all of a sudden, Potter,” you smirked. When his expression didn't change it took you aback slightly. He was actually worried about you. “Look, I'm probably the best suited for it anyways,” you said, coughing a bit to coast through the awkward tension, “Remus and I are both wolves, or at least partly. If one of you end up turning into a sheep or something you might be dead meat, not to freak you out or anything.”

“That's reassuring,” Sirius said under his breath.

____________________________________________________________

“You really don't have to do this,” Lupin insisted as you sat on the floor together in the Shrieking Shack later that month.

“I want to,” you assured him, “take it as a thanks for helping me pass Arithmancy. Besides, it's a perfectly fine excuse for me to practice interacting with other animals in my animagus form.”

The boy beside you was quiet for a moment, shoulders tense and jaw set tight. It wasn't that he wasn't happy you were here, he was more grateful than you could know, but he was terrified that he was going to end up hurting you. On top of that was the fact that he didn't want you to see him as he transformed. It wasn't pretty, and it was visibly painful. He didn't want you to think any lower of him, though he knew that fear was irrational.

The calming jazz record that spun on the other side of the room was the only noise between you two for quite some time, but you understood that he needed time to gather his thoughts. This was something so deeply personal you were surprised and a bit honored he allowed you to be here at all. You noticed the photograph that he held in his hands; it was of Hogwarts, taken from the very edge of the forest. The sun was peeking over the horizon, spilling out between the complexly constructed towers that made up the castle's exterior, and casting a warm, golden hue over the landscape.

“It's beautiful,” you said, “the picture.”

“It is,” Remus smiled to himself and nodded, “James gave it to me, as a reminder. He said that matter what happens during the full moon, the sun will always rise on us again.”

“Huh,” you mused softly, “perhaps he isn't such an insufferable jerk after all.”

“Oh, no, he is,” Lupin chuckled, “but he is also a very good friend, and endlessly thoughtful even if he denies it.”

You let that sink in for a moment. You supposed he was.

“Well,” you said, laughing a bit as you shifted in your seat, “this isn't as deep and meaningful as the photo, but I brought something for you.” You reached into your bag, retrieving something that made Remus' eyes widen.

“Where did you get that?” he said, elated as you held out his favorite chocolate bar which had been out of stock at Hogsmeade for weeks now.

“You guys have a secret tunnel that goes right to the Honeydukes cellar and you've never taken advantage of their storage?” you grinned.

Lupin hesitated as he held the bar in his hands.

“So you stole it?”

“I left five dracma in the tip jar,” you rolled your eyes, “I'm not a death eater.”

His smiled returned at that, and he ripped open the familiar foil gratefully.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“It's the least I could do,” you said.

“It's really not,” he said, turning to face you fully. You were left a bit breathless as the unexpected intensity of his eyes. “None of this is the least you could do, because the least you could do is nothing,” he continued, rambling, “we were so horrible to someone you consider a dear friend, and you were willing to look past that. You're risking your life by even being with me right now, (Y/n).”

“You don't—”

“I do know that,” Remus said sharply, “I've never been in contact with anyone as a werewolf. The one time I was, I. . .” he trailed off, and it hurt you to see his pained expression, “I just don't know how I'll react.”

“You're saying that as if something bad's already happened,” you said gently, “it'll be okay.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked quietly, equally full of frustration and admiration.

“I'm willing to put my trust in you, Remus. I think it's time you put some trust in yourself.”

Lupin's heart pounded a little harder in his chest. Had you ever called him by his first name before? You looked at him so reassuringly, so confidently. He couldn't understand it, but your words reached him to his core.

“(Y/n). . .” he trailed off, blinking rapidly. A shaky breath escaped him, and your stomach dropped.

“Remus?”

Suddenly you saw something shift in him. His breathing became heavy and his pupils dilated, completely filling his irises in a matter of seconds. He braced himself against the wall as he stumbled to his feet, his skin slowly taking on a gray hue.

“It's happening,” he said, voice deeper and strained, his neck convulsing, “you have to transform, now!”

You didn't waste any time, taking the shape of your wolf form and padding away a cautionary distance. Your stomach churned as you watched Remus yell out, his expression full of pain as his body grew in size, his cries slowly becoming reminiscent of howls. His face contorted in agony as his head morphed into a more animalistic shape, ears growing from his scalp and fur appearing as if his werewolf was fully formed inside him, physically escaping through his skin. You've seen werewolves before, but seeing someone you know actually turn into one, it was completely different. Nothing could have prepared you for this. Seeing anyone in this much pain made your chest tighten harshly.

At last it seemed the transformation was complete. Remus Lupin was gone, and in front of you stood a creature of at least eight feet, perched on his hind legs and towering over you especially in your animal form. You could hear how ragged his breathing had become, his body convulsing with the motion; growing and retracting like a beating heart. You heard a whimper escape his throat, and you could tell he was still recovering from the pain.

You steeled yourself, making the decision to alert him to your presence subtly. You tilted your head upwards, releasing a similar sounding whimper to his. Immediately the werewolf across from you was on high alert, his head snapping towards you and his lips pulling back into a snarl as his ears lowered. You took an instinctive step back, lowering your head slowly. He seemed puzzled by your behavior, which made sense seeing as Lupin told you he never interacted with any other animals during the full moon. His head tilted inquisitively and he took a heavy step forward. You forced yourself to not back away, testing the waters. His eyes narrowed again as he saw you standing your ground, but you quickly sat down, your head tilting to expose your neck slightly. You made doubly sure not to show any signs of aggression; you knew you had no chance against a werewolf at full strength.

However, he seemed to take your queues well. His tail seemed to relax a bit, his eyes returning to their full, round shape as he looked at you with curiosity. You sniffed up at him and he hesitated, but eventually circled around you and did the same. You could almost see the turmoil in him, as a werewolf you doubted anyone he came across treated him with anything less than terror in their eyes, but you were completely relaxed.

He whimpered again, and you were shocked at the sign of submission. You rose to your feet, and he didn't back away. You let out a friendly yip, which he returned, and you felt the weight lift off your chest. You leaped to the side, and he followed you, running alongside you as you bounded across the room, practically leaping off the walls. You jumped at each other playfully, rolling across the floor in a mess of fur. You smiled inwardly as this continued throughout the night, no longer seeing fear or pain or aggression in his eyes when you looked into them. Even if he wouldn't remember most of this, you hoped he would at least feel better in the morning than all the times he had to go through it alone.

Exhausted from all the playing around, you padded softly back to your robes, crawling inside yours and and gesturing over to him with your head. He followed you, coming down to all fours before laying beside you. You weren't sure when sleep came over you, but it was like the world's most comfortable blanket had been thrown over your shoulders, and your eyes drifted closed of their own volition. . .

“Merlin's beard, just what were you two doing last night?!”

You and Remus both jolted awake at the sound of James Potter's aggravatingly loud voice but quickly came to your senses. Remus' arms were wrapped around you, your back facing him. You were just barely covered by your robes with nothing underneath as a result of your transformation. As you scrambled to get decent your face heated even more as you saw Remus was currently without a shirt, his pants ripped considerably. You scrambled away from each other, trying to make yourselves decent.

Peter was howling with laughter, James looking smug as ever. Sirius was oddly quiet, but you were too wrapped up in the embarrassment to notice his behavior.

“What was that about being 'endlessly thoughtful'?” you grumbled to Remus.

“Right, I completely take back what I said,” he scoffed, “ 'insufferable jerk' is much more accurate.”

“Close your eyes, you perverted git!” you yelled at James, who was blatantly staring at you, “toss me my clothes at least, would you?”

James bit back a smirk as he grabbed your bag that was sitting in the corner of the room— clothes you had brought with the intention of changing into after returning to your human form when Lupin fell asleep. He tossed it over to you and you began to change under your robes. As his back was turned to you his mind began to wander. You'd always been attractive, sure, but since you'd always been his rival he hadn't really given you a second thought, especially when he'd been trying to get Lily's attention for ages. But just now, thinking about how downright adorable you looked when you'd yelled at him, something in him shifted. He shook it off quickly, turning to Lupin with a grin he'd managed to put on concernedly fast.

“You cheeky bastard,” he said to Remus, who was furiously changing into a new shirt, “you just wanted her alone, didn't you? Do you really need us to become animagi after all?”

“You're the worst, Potter,” the werewolf glared at him.

“Don't listen to him, Remus,” you grumbled, straightening out your tie as you slipped it on over your shirt, “he's an even bigger idiot than he looks.”

“Are you implying I look stupid?”

“Implying may not be a strong enough word.”

__________________________________________________________

It had taken months of brewing the potion and getting all the necessary preparations in order, but they were finally ready. Remus sat with you in the grass, wand at the ready to undo any untoward transfiguration that happened on accident. Peter, Sirius, and James stood across from you, standing at the edge of a stone ledge about five feet off the ground. You'd said that a leap of faith is what would best trigger their first transformation. They looked nervous, but they were prepared as they'd ever be. Over the last year you had grown considerably closer to the four boys you had miraculously come to know as friends.

“Remember, focus on your emotions,” you said, “you need to pick a strong one, let it fill your body and flow through you. If you block the magic off from any part of your body, it's not going to be pretty.”

“Right, but how do I—”

“James, I swear, I'm really rooting for you to be a mute animal.”

“But how do you choose-”

“Just do it already!”

“Oh, sod it,” James squeezed his eyes shut, not giving himself time to second guess before jumping off the ledge. For a moment he was certain he was about to land face first in the dirt, but then it happened— a moment where time seemed to freeze and his body felt completely weightless. He felt this sensation where his arms and legs vibrated with an intense, foreign energy. Images flashed through his mind in that brief moment in the air; Sirius manically laughing as they ran away from Filch, Remus snapping off a piece of chocolate to offer him after he'd lost Gryffindor a Quidditch match, and, unexpectedly, you. A feeling of warmth spread through his chest, and he grasped onto it, letting it flow through his body like you said. In an instant he felt torso shift, his shoulders narrow, his neck elongate; and when he landed on the ground he still landed face-first as he predicted, but in a completely different form.

He could see you and Lupin in front of him, mouths agape. He was about to say something when he found his vocal chords only allowed him a gruff whine. Shocked, he lifted his head, which felt much heavier than he'd last recalled, and as he looked down at himself he was taken aback to be met with a pair of hooves right beneath him. He staggered to his feet on wobbly legs, of which he now had four. As he tilted his head he could see the shadow of a pair of antlers twisting into brilliant shadows on the grass.

“Potter, you did it!” you exclaimed, “you actually did it!”

“Well how about that,” Remus chuckled, “a stag.”

“It fits him, I think,” you grinned, looking over at Sirius and Peter who looked determined and terrified respectively. “Well go on, it's your turn now!”

Sirius braced himself for the jump, but somehow he found no fear in his system. After seeing James shift in the air right before his eyes, he knew he could do it. He looked over at Peter who was nearly shaking.

“Come on, Peter,” he said, “we'll go together.”

“I-I don't know about this, Sirius,” Peter said, “I'm not ready, I don't think I can do this.”

“It's just a little jump,” Sirius said encouragingly, “you can do this.”

After a few nerve wracking deep breaths Peter gave him the smallest nod one could manage.

“We'll go on three,” Sirius said, “Ready? One—”

“AaHH!”

Sirius shoved Peter off the ledge, knowing he wouldn't jump on his own, before taking the plunge himself. Peter's screams became higher and higher pitched as he shrank at an alarming speed, almost an undetectable size by the time he hit the grass. A small brown rat scurried across the field towards you and Lupin.

The stag in front of you made a sound, dragging his hooves across the grass in what you could imagine as James' unadulterated laughter at his friend.

Sirius began to morph almost as soon as he left the ground, something you were surprised by. He landed on his hind legs, landing gracefully as his front two followed, and a shaggy black dog looked back at you with mischief in its eyes.

You couldn't help but go over and pet him. You laughed as he nudged you with his nose, a resistance that was quickly halted as soon as you started scratching him behind the ears.

“I have to say, I didn't think you would actually manage that on your first try,” you said, secretly prouder than they could have known, “but if anyone could have done it, it's you three stubborn goons.”

James huffed as he saw you continue to pet Sirius, using his antlers to prod the dog out of the way. Sirius barked, lunging at him playfully. It was quite a scene to see the two interact.

“Honestly, this is a pretty solid group,” you said, “you've got James who blends perfectly with the surrounding wildlife so he wouldn't be suspicions, Sirius who could probably do a fair bit of damage as a dog if he needed, and Peter who can fit through small spaces and snoop around the castle virtually undetected.”

“Quite an odd pack,” Remus chuckled.

“Definitely,” you agreed, “but a pack nonetheless.”

And that very week, Remus Lupin was able to spend his first night as a werewolf with his four friends by his side.

__________________________________________________________

“So, how did we choose which animals we turn into?” James had asked you the next day at breakfast, “I specifically tried for a dragon.”

“You don't get to choose,” you rolled your eyes, “You're a stag, that's the end of it. It's pretty much up to chance.”

“I'm sorry, you're telling me I could have turned into a fish and died right there on the ground?!”

“If only,” you sighed dreamily, earning you a playful shove from James. “Alright, it's not completely random, but you're definitely in the unknown the first time you turn,” you went on to explain, “and once you turn for the first time, that's it. That's your animal. A wizard takes on the animagus form of whatever animal most closely resembles their personality. So, a horny bastard for James, a loyal little puppy for Sirius—”

“A bitch for you,” Sirius quipped.

“Never heard that one before,” you scoffed, purposefully messing up his hair.

“Hey, watch it!” he shoved you off him, twisting each of his curls back into form.

“Well, look who's a high maintenance pup,” you chuckled.

Around the same time that year, you finally completed the map. It came together beautifully, each different way of folding the paper revealing a different level of the castle for easy navigation. You'd included the surrounding forests as well as the parts of Hogsmeade that applied for the secret passageways, all of which were marked with symbols and the unique names you'd all come up with. Every student and staff member at Hogwarts had a tiny scroll with their name that appeared in their location. Remus had added the nice detail of including footprints at the last second, so you could see which way they were facing and walking as well. It was fireproof, rip proof, and prone to insulting anyone else who tried to read it. It was the pinnacle of your magical (and slightly illegal) achievement.

“We should write our names on it,” James said, looking down proudly at the finished map, “it belongs to us, after all. We don't want anyone else taking the credit.”

“Yeah, fantastic way to get caught,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “what if Filch comes across it? That's like leaving your signature at a murder scene.”

“You should use code names, then,” you suggested, “I know you guys call Remus 'Moony' as a joke, but I kind of like it.”

The scarred boy blushed lightly at the compliment, a brow raised to his other three friends.

“Alright then, I guess you should all say hi to Rudolph over here,” Sirius said, jutting his thumb in James' direction. The bespectacled boy narrowed his eyes before shooting back.

“Right! And this is my good friend, Snuffles.”

Sirius lunged at him and James swatted him away in laughter.

“Come on, you two,” Remus said, “or we won't put anything down for you at all.”

“I've got an idea for Peter,” you piped in, “When my mom used to garden she said she didn't mind having rats there because their tails resembled worms, which were an old a sign of healthy soil, I know it's odd, but I think Wormtail sounds pretty cool.”

Peter seemed to perk up at your acknowledgment and nodded. It suited him somehow.

“Should we pick animal features too, then?” James mused, “I guess Antlers doesn't really sound that cool. What's another word? Horns? Give me some analogies, guys. What else do they look like?”

“Yours honestly kind of look like a couple of bent forks,” you snickered.

“Prongs?” Sirius snorted, the laughter that followed nearly splitting his sides.

“Oh, go on, what have you got then?” James scoffed.

“I was thinking Padfoot,” Sirius said, “like a dog's paw prints.”

“You know, for someone who was just making fun of code names a second ago you sure have given a lot of thought to yours,” you teased.

“Shove it,” he smirked, “What about you? Can't very well have a second Moony.”

You stared at him in momentary disbelief.

“Me?”

“Well, yeah,” Sirius chuckled.

“We couldn't have done any of this without you,” Remus reminded you with a smile.

“I think you've more than earned an honorary title as one of us,” James said.

“That is, if you want to,” Peter said timidly.

You looked at the four of them, genuinely touched.

“I. . . I don't know what to say,” you smiled.

“You could say 'yes',” James piped up.

“Alright, you loons,” you laughed, “if you leave Severus alone for good, then yes.”

“Hey, I think we've been pretty good about that lately,” James pouted.

“Yes you have,” you admitted, “It's the only reason I bothered to give you the time of day, but this time it's a promise.”

James rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was undeniable. He'd never admit it out loud, but being friends with you was more fun than messing with Snape ever was.

“Alright, fine. (Y/n) (L/n), I solemnly swear that I will leave tormenting our dear old friend Snivelus behind us forever,” he said dramatically, putting a hand up at his pledge.

“Oh, bother,” you laughed, “the only thing you'll 'solemnly swear' to is that you're up to no good.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

“Then that's settled,” Remus smiled, “you'll need a code name too.”

“Let's see,” Sirius hummed in thought, “What other defining features do wolves have besides. . . well, their. . . fangs?”

“They're canines, you numbnut,” you huffed.

“Close enough, I'm writing Fangs.”

“Oi, I didn't agree to that!”

“Too bad, I'm already writing it~”

“Okay, well if that's the stupid name I'm getting saddled with them I'm going to write it myself,” you said stubbornly. You actually didn't mind the name at all.

“Well that's it, then,” James said, “Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Fangs. We could join the bloody circus.”

“All we need is a group name,” you said, half joking.

“We've already got one,” James said proudly.

“Oh? Let's hear it, then.”

“The Marauders.”

“. . .”

You kept your face straight for exactly three seconds before you burst out laughing. The four boys flushed with embarrassment.

“The Marauders?” you chortled, “what are you, pirates?”

“It's what McGonnagall called us the first time we got ourselves into proper trouble,” James defended himself, his cheeks reddening, “You rowdy mob of marauders, she'd said.”

“Huh,” you chuckled, coming down from your laughing fit, “Well, then I suppose that would make this The Marauders Map. I'll admit, it actually kinda has a ring to it.”

And despite your group's joking quips and bickering, they couldn't agree more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait,” Harry said, eyes wide at your story, “So, my dad was an animagus too?”

“Sure was,” you smiled warmly.

“This whole time I thought 'Prongs' was just because his patronus was a stag.”

“Your animagus form is usually the same animal as your patronus,” you explained, “In some very rare cases they can be different, but they work in the same emotionally driven vein of magical ability, so it would make sense that they'd be linked. Your father was extraordinary at both, because as much as he would deny it, he felt everything very deeply.”

Your eyes drifted to the wall opposite you in the living room, and a small but sad smile graced your features.

“Love is often the most powerful emotion a witch or wizard can draw from,” you said softly, “but you already know that.”

Harry followed your gaze over his shoulder. There, posted on the wall among a collage of photographs from the Order was a picture of his mother and father. It was one he'd seen a hundred times, and one he had his own copy of: them in each others' arms in a London park, autumn leaves swirling around them as they danced without any music. Even from this distance he could see the emotion in their eyes as they looked at one another— like they were the only two people in the world.

“Yeah,” Harry said, wiping a stray tear from his eyes, “I do.”

Read chapter 7 here!

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