#I’m a little shocked he had to change his opinion in the first place given the rest of his politics

[stylishanachronism]

Thinking about the dude who came in to see me last week (I had to learn how to open a whole new account type without like…. Admitting that which is always wild), who brought up the $20/hr fast food minimum wage that went into effect recently like ‘how does that make you feel?’ (Me being a banker and all) and being so flabbergasted by my response he actually changed his mind on the topic.

[dream-with-a-fever]

Asks/prompts about hinny:

I’m forever a sucker for the Weasleys finding out about them dating and what their reactions might be - when do you think each family member found out and how did it go?

Have a lovely day xx

oh i loooooove this question!!!

okay so i think ron 100% tells the twins straight away, just like ginny had with him and lavender, and they’re ofc thrilled. they definitely would’ve given harry shit and teased ginny about her life long crush returning her affections lmao - but given that they were broken up by the time they saw the twins again, i think fred and george were more sensitive about it. they hated how down ginny was after the breakup, and treaded lightly with their teasing during that time. i think george would’ve resumed the teasing a few years after the war, when he was in a slightly better place mentally. but he loved harry like a brother, and knew how happy he made ginny and vice versa. and he knew fred felt the exact same way :’)

i feel like percy wouldn’t have known anything about harry and ginny dating, but he would’ve been very business like in his approval of their coupling. saying ‘so pleased to have you as part of the family, harry’ in his pompous but still warm manner. he definitely felt mostly guilty about the way he had treated harry (and his family, but in terms of politics, he really did throw harry to the dogs) and is overly polite in his company, to try and make up for his past behaviour. he thinks they’re well matched if a little chaotic.

i LOVE the headcanon that bill literally assumed harry and ginny were already together during the christmas break in harry’s sixth year. he noticed the way harry’s eyes lit up whenever she spoke, caught him staring at her several times, ginny’s playful (but totally platonic…) teasing and touching of harry. she bullied the boy into helping her make all the paper chains, like bill definitely thought this boy is WHIPPED. and when he asks ron and ron’s all WHAT no they are NOT dating are you CRAZY bill’s like wtf ok. so he’s not at all surprised when he finds out that they did in fact get together. obviously bill approves, knowing how deeply and unabashedly they love each other, he thinks it will last.

charlie found out around the same time bill did, and he was happy for them. but didn’t really have an opinion either way, because he was often still in romania or other parts of europe working. he thinks harry‘a a good lad tho, and knows he’s basically part of the family anyway so it works out pretty nicely

now with ron, we see a lot of his reaction in the books anyway, but i 100% think ron was supportive of the relationship, i mean he literally tells ginny she should choose someone better next time and nods at harry??? like he may have been protective but he ultimately knew harry was a good guy, and that if he could trust anyone to take care of his sister and be a good partner for her, it would be him. i also think contrary to other peoples’ opinions, he isn’t like jealous nor does he feel like he’s been replaced by ginny in harry’s life. they’re BESTFRIENDS. nothing is ever going to change that - he knows this. and you can bet he was not at all unhappy about the newfound alone time he was getting with hermione :)) he was their biggest supporter (maybe second biggest - behind hermione ofc). and despite the initial shock of the common room kiss, i think he’s very much, yeah i called it years ago, it was bound to happen. and now i have another brother!!! it’s so so wholesome. and you just know ginny, ron and harry get on as a trio anyway. two of his favourite ppl together, ofc he’s happy.

now arthur and molly!!!!!! i wish we got to see more of their reactions tbh. i think arthur, like bill, probably thought they were already together during that christmas break, but never mentioned it to anyone except molly. who dismissed it at first, saying ginny got over her little crush ages ago, but she keeps a close eye on them after that, and definitely starts to see what arthur’s seeing. when ginny writes home telling them that her and harry are in fact seeing each other, molly weeps tears of pure delight. he’s basically a son to her anyway, and she couldn’t be more pleased that they’ve found happiness together. but she definitely is a bit nervous about how close now TWO of her children are to harry bc he’s a target, and bc he always lands himself in sticky situations (she doesn’t blame him ofc) but she worries non stop because he is so brave, selfless and stubborn and so are her children, and she’s well aware that they all seem to encourage each other’s somewhat reckless impulses (see, ron and harry flying a car to hogwarts, all three rushing to the ministry as a bunch of teens to fight death eaters etc). after the war, she is just happy for them tho. and despite being initially strict about hermione and ginny staying in their room, and ron and harry staying in theirs, she definitely starts to look the other way, when she spots harry creeping down the hallway in the early hours of the morning to sneak into her daughter’s room. he freezes when he sees her, clamming up, incredibly embarrassed, but she merely smiles and nods in the direction of the ginny’s room as if to say, well, go on then, because she too knows what it is to struggle through many a sleepless night worrying about loved ones, suffering trauma and loss, and needing to be close to the one you love the most. and arthur feels the same way. and he’s thrilled that now he’ll have even more opportunities to badger harry about how washing machines work, and why muggles dress up as witches and monsters on halloween.

what can i say, harry and ginny are a very, very loved couple. by the weasley family, and a lot of others too. they’re just too precious.

i hope you have a wonderful day too, and thank you for this ask! 🤍

[sickeninglyshoujo]

Idk if you do requests or suggestions n stuff like that, so feel free to ignore this, but how do you think Simon would feel about a significant other who got caught in an explosion or something that badly scared/disfigured half her face?

She’s not insecure enough to hide her face because of it, but she gets irritable when people stare, and will will sometimes make self deprecating jokes about being an, “eyesore” and how she, “ain’t exactly a beauty anymore”

a/n: this is actually the first time anyones requested anything from me and it made me so happy omg

masterlist here

buy me a ko-fi

warnings: mentions of injury, blood, scars, a dash of smut

word count: 1.4k

The scarring that covered a little under half of your face rarely bothered you. The occasional tightness or twinges of pain with the weather changes was the worst of it and nothing that couldn’t be remedied with a thin coating of bio oil and a gentle massage.

The appearance of the scarring didn’t bother you either, compared to the angry red skin that had first grown back after the explosion.

One misplaced charge by a newbie to blow open a door had sent you sprawled on your ass, your pride hurting. You’d hardly noticed the pain until you’d seen Johnny white as a sheet when he kneels down over you, “Don’ worry lass, ‘ve gotcha.”

“Johnny?” You ask, a little out of sorts from the shockwave of the charge.

“Lass, ‘ve gotcha!” He affirmed, stripping your helmet and his tac gear, before his thin cotton vest was pressed over your face.

“Ah know, lass, best ah can do now.”

“Can’t see, Johnny…”

“Hush, lass, gotta keep you covered. Yer in a state… Bleedin’ through already.”

Johnny kept heavy pressure on your face, barking out orders at the others on how to complete the mission, all the while holding his vest pressed tightly, so tightly onto your face.

“S-soap, i’ hurts,” you moaned.

“Hush, lass, we’ll get out soon,” His hands disappeared from your face and you were being hauled up into his arms, “Gotta finish the mission then we’ll get you to a medic, promise.”

Ghost is in the medical wing before your wounds have even been cleaned, “Where’s the fucking shithead who placed the charge!”

You blink, swiping at some of the blood covering your face.

“The rookie’s still in debrief, Ghost, she only came here because she needed medical,” Soap says.

“Get that little asshole in here, he’ll need medical by the time I’m done with him.”

The healing had been slow and painful as your nerves knit themselves back together.

“You don’ have to worry about getting revenge on the rookie, lass,” Johnny said one day as he visited you in the medical wing, “Ghost has been at the poor dog’s heels, not giving him a moment’s rest. Think he’s about to keel over and die from the amount of suicides hes been given.”

Ghost sleeps in the armchair next to your bed.

Ghost helps to remove the stitches after you insisted on not returning to the hospital.

Ghost is the one who helps to massage the medicated creams on while you grit your teeth at the bone deep pain that radiates.

Ghost is the one ready to bite off heads when people so much as let their eyes linger on the raised and angry skin.

“Don’t worry about it, Simon, I really don’t mind the looks much. People are just wondering what happened,” The mission had been need-to-know and even the details of your injury weren’t allowed to leave confidential briefings.

Your opinion changes as your scars settle into a raised and mottled mauve, pockmarks and dents covering half of your face, the stares on base continue.

“What, you’ve never seen an eyesore before? I think you’d be used to looking at one in the mirror every morning with a face like that,” You snapped at a new recruit who had completely stopped in his tracks, mouth opened in shock at your appearance, “Meet me in the gym tomorrow at oh-six-hundred. You’re going to learn to respect your superiors' battle wounds the hard way,” You snarled out at him.

Off base, the stares are worse so you begin to limit your time on leave.

You grit your teeth and set your face in a hard line in public, schooling your expression so that people don’t notice the way that their wide-eyed glances hit you like punches.

You don’t notice how fewer stare when Ghost is around, he’ll glare them down over your head and make them scurry away before their eyes even reach you.

You don’t notice the way Ghost’s eyes darken in the rec room when you make a joke to the lads about being “damaged goods” and “Frankenstein” even if your eyes are filled with tears of laughter as you cackle at your own jokes.

“Don’ like hearing you talk like that,” Simon corners you after you leave the rec room to refill your drink.

“Jesus Christ! Simon! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” You clutch your chest where your racing heart resided, “Give a girl some warning before I attach a bell to you.”

He didn’t speak for a beat, “I don’t want to hear you calling yourself ‘damaged goods’ anymore, love.”

“Just speaking the truth, Si,” You gestured at your face, the still painful and shiny skin, “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought it too? I know I wasn’t winning beauty contests before, but now I would probably be better as a scare actor.”

“Tha’s not true.”

“You don’t have to be nice to me just because I’m your girlfriend!”

“If I was bein’ nice I’d tell you tha’ you were the scariest,” Simon begins, still kissing down the line of scarred flesh, now reaching your chest, free of scars.

“You’re so pretty,” Simon murmurs against the line where healthy flesh met mottled scarring, “Want you to say it back to me, love. Need to hear you say it.”

The healthy skin of your face began to flush, nearly matching your scars in color, “Si-”

“I need you to know how pretty you are to me, before and now,” His kisses continue tracing your healed wounds, “Never seen a prettier bird.”

His hands trace your hip bones, settling at their crest, “Before I could only think how soft you were, that I had to protect you on missions. Nearly got my head blown off more than once. Now all I can see is how strong you are,” His hands begin to trail lower, petting over your stomach and then lower still.

“There she is,” He coos when you jump as his fingers make contact, “Now tell me how pretty you are for me doll, wanna hear you say it before I make you cry it f’ me.”

He makes you cry that night.

He switches from nipple to nipple, “Say it, lovie,” He tells you as he pauses to thumb at your nipple, giving his mouth a break.

“‘M pretty,” You whimper out.

“Again,” he says, kissing down your stomach, “Give yourself another compliment, sweet girl.”

“Si!”

“I’ll help you pretty girl,” He coos at you, in between mouthing at your hip bones, “You’re strong, now say it.

“I-I’m strong,” Now his mouth travels lower still, you wriggle trying to rush him into going faster. He can tell your game and deliberately pulls his mouth off, “You’re impatient too, lovie, but I’ll forgive it and give you what you need if you give me another compliment.”

“‘M not an eyesore!”

“That’s right, you’re beautiful, lovie,” He finally lowers himself to give tiny licks at your clit sending you jerking up into his mouth.

“Everytime you say those things about yourself it drives me mad that you don’t see what I do. Even with your scars you’re still beautiful and sexy and knowing you’re all mine makes me hard as a fucking rock.”

You whimper under him, trying to grind down onto is tongue to get more, more, more.

“So pretty for me, pretty face, pretty body, pretty cunt,” Simon murmurs into you, pulling his mouth away just long enough to watch his fingers tease along your hole before slipping one inside, “Givin’ me the prettiest little moans when I touch…here,” He crooked his fingers inside of you and made you jerk under him, crying out.

“The scars just make you prettier, dove,” Simon says, “Shows me you’re real and can take anything the world can give you. That you can’t be taken from me.”

His words fizzle into your brain as you grind down onto his finger everytime it thrusts into you, “Si, more,” You pant out, “Need more.”

“Gimme another one, pretty girl.”

“‘M brave,” You can barely get the words out, torn between trying to whimper out praise to yourself to try and get Simon to do more or to beg him for it instead.

“Good girl, you’re listening so well,” He slid another finger inside of you, “You’re so brave sweet girl,” He kissed your thigh.

[vee-vee-writes]

Bilbo's Little Sapling (Company x Bilbo's daughter!reader)

Request by @that-teen2003: "Reader (adult) is bilbos daughter (yes biological) readers mother and bilbo had a one night stand and reader was given to bilbo. When the company arrived to bilbos they all take notice of some things not really meant for a hobbit hole, but they don’t question bilbo. Once everyone is there they bring up how bilbo will help them, but he says no because he has his baby girl to look after. The company along with Gandalf and shocked, bilbo goes on and says his little sapling cant be alone. They all here this and slightly back off, but still persistent, but image there shock when his daughter walks through the door, taller then Gandalf and bloody from the deer she hunted. She ends up joining her father one the quest, but not without a few of the dwarfs flirting with her along the way, as well as them finding out how scary a father hobbit can be when it comes to his daughter."

Notes: I really hope you like it! I intend to write a part two to fit the last bit of your request about protective dad Bilbo :)

Read Bilbo's daughter POV

The rolling hills and greens of the Shire were nothing like this company of dwarves were used to. Here the folk seemed gentle, as if hardship and horror had never tainted a single day of their lives, and only somewhat weary to strangers. Each home built gently into the green hills and rich earth of the Shire, small well-kept gardens framing their doorways. However, one hobbit hole stood out as a stark contrast to the rest.

Bag End had all the notable features of a luxurious hobbit hole. Framed with plush greens and scatterings of blooming flowers, a large front lawn, and a twine woven fence, it was a peaceful sight that any respectable hobbit would be jealous of. However, each dwarf who trekked up the small dirt stairs noted some oddities. The most notable was the large axe propped up in the entrance way. It was far to big for the average hobbit and was most certainly not of dwarven craft. No, it had to belong to a human but what it was doing there was a mystery. By all accounts the race of man did not live in the Shire, with Bree being the closest settlement.

Yet each shrugged it off, as long as Gandalf or the hobbit hadn’t invited any unwanted guests then there was no reason to think to deeply upon it. Still, one could not help but spot similar oddities throughout the home as they made themselves comfortable. The abnormally big armchair, fine china sets that could feed two hobbits at a time, and the pair of boots that Bofur had stumbled over when he’d entered. What hobbit wore shoes?

Nevertheless, they kept their opinions to themselves after finding Bilbo to be the only occupant. Feasting, drinking, belching, and merriment ensued as the dwarven band dined in a luxury they were seldom afforded. While the arrival of Thorin certainly had muted the celebrations considerably, excitement still ran high at the prospect of beginning the journey for the reclamation of their home.

The refusal of the hobbit to join their adventure had not been unexpected either. Gandalf had warned them that Bilbo may be hesitant to join them at first but would ultimately change his mind. What no one had expected was the revelation that Bilbo had a daughter, a seemingly young one at that.

“What why on earth would I join as a burglar, I’ve never stolen a thing in my life! Besides, I have my own young sapling to look after, she can hardly be left here to fend for herself, and I certainly won’t risk her on some journey to the ends of Middle Earth to fight a dragon. I’m sorry but no, I won’t do it” Bilbo had dramatically exclaimed. Murmurs of disappointed agreement had met his declaration., the road was no place for a youngling.

Bilbo had long since retired to his private room, the excitement of his uninvited visitors having worn him ragged. The company had made themselves comfortable in one of Bilbo’s sitting rooms, repurposing couches and armchairs for makeshift beds. It was as they began to bunk down for the night that the fright of their life had come.

As the hour of the gods struck a thundering sound breached the tranquility of Bag End, shaking the walls around them. Immediately each of the dwarves had sat up in alarm. It was unlikely an orc raiding party had strayed this far, even if they had somehow caught the scent of dwarf, but one could never be too sure. Through the doorway a faint light could be seen growing closer, a single set of heavy footsteps accompanying it. There was no doubt that each dwarf was cursing having stripped of sword, mace and bow at the door.

A lone looming figure suddenly appeared in the door, the soft light of the single candle it carried doing little to light up its features. Yet even though the shadows obscured the persons finer details, one thing was for certain. This figure was no hobbit, height alone gave it away. Gandalf was tall by human standards, but this figure may have given even him a run for his money. Daring to move, Dori had struck a match and begun lighting the nearest oil lamp with shaking hands.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my home” the stranger shrieked, “where is my father? What have you done to him? You’d better answer me now!” By now the oil lamp had chased away some of the shadows and the intruders face could be seen. Despite the tall stature of the woman before them, indicating human or elvish parentage, obvious hobbit-like features could be picked out. There was no doubt, you had to be Bilbo’s daughter, but you were certainly no sapling.

“I…we were invited here by a wizard, Gandalf the Grey, to meet with the hobbit Bilbo Baggins. Might I…that is to say...why are you covered in blood” Ori had stuttered out, the first of the stunned troop to find his voice. “I see, and where might my father be?” the woman answered ignoring Ori’s question. “Recovering from the shock of this evening’s news and festivities in his quarters no doubt” Bofur answered, having gathered his wits. Before the woman could answer him Thorin had interrupted. “You never answered the question, who’s blood is that and who are you” he demanded, rising to his feet.

The commotion had roused both Gandalf and Bilbo both of whom appeared in a flustered hurry behind the mystery woman. Seeming unsurprised by the scene both had relaxed somewhat upon seeing her, though Bilbo still glanced wearily at the dwarves. “For gods sakes you could at least try to clean up after coming back from hunting. Honestly, anyone would think that I hadn’t raised you to be a respectable hobbit, (Y/N)!” Bilbo exclaimed throwing his hands up in annoyance, “where’d you leave it this time. It better not be on my rug, you know how old it is. A family heirloom.”

“I left it on the doorstep once I saw all of their gear” (Y/N) jabbed a finger in the company’s direction, “I didn’t know you were expecting company, I was worried when I first saw it all. I thought some ragtag band of robbers had broken into Bag End.” Bilbo took in a deep exasperated breath, rolling his eyes at his daughters antics. “And what you thought you would come in and play the hero? Honestly what were you thinking? I know you like to hunt, even though I’d rather you not, but you’re not exactly a trained soldier are you” Bilbo snapped back. The company watched in amusement, all tension having melted away once it had become certain who the mystery woman was. If the hobbit and his daughter were to actually join them there was no doubt it would at least provide a bit of entertainment.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Another Lie || CL16 {5} - Charles' Ending

Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, if you don’t want a Charles happy ending look away now and wait for the Max alternative! WC: 2.8k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five (Charles) || Five (Max) || 5.1 blurb request

It was strange to be back after so long. It was strange to see that the Principality hadn’t changed at all. Upon reflection, the only difference was that you had. 

The gravel path crunched under your ballet flats as you followed the winding track to the lookout and found him sitting upon the wall looking out over his homeland. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

Charles nearly fell off his perch with how fast he turned and you placed a steadying hand on his shoulder as he righted himself. 

“What…?” he trailed off in confusion as he stared at you in disbelief. 

Thanks to Instagram you had seen how his face had sharpened with age, heard how his voice had deepened too. And, from what interviews you had watched, even his thoughts and opinions had matured in recent times.

But he hadn’t seen the difference three years had made to you. You were never one to publicise your life and your Instagram was mostly used to keep up with other peoples life rather than display your own. He knew because he still checked.

“Your mum called.” He was still staring as you climbed the wall and took a seat beside him. “I can’t believe it’s been ten years.”

When Pascale had invited you to the anniversary of Hervé’s death she had assured you that Charles was aware and fine with it but given how shocked he still was at your arrival that didn’t appear to be true.

“Where’s Jules?” you asked, trying to get him to say something other than stare as you picked at the loose stones on the wall.

A smile curled his lips at the mention of his son before it lost some of its brilliance. “It’s Sapphire’s week with him. Wait, my mum has your number?”

“We’ve kept in touch over the years,” you admitted with a shrug. She had never forgotten your birthday and always wished you a Merry Christmas. “When she said you weren’t answering your phone I figured you’d be up here.”

“I just needed to clear my head for a bit,” he murmured as he peeled his eyes away from you and returned to watching the sun reflect on the picturesque Côte d’Azur. “With the custody battle, the busy race schedule and dad’s anniversary, it all got a little loud in here.” He tapped a ringed finger to his head and sighed. “I’m thinking about retiring.”

The stone in your fingers slipped and tumbled down your leg and into your shoe, irritating your foot as you tried to kick it back out. With a chuckle, Charles dropped off the wall and pulled your shoe off, flicking the stone out before slipping it back on. 

“Thanks,” you muttered as you still tried to process the information he had dumped on you. “Why would you retire? You’ve been doing great!”

He didn’t return to his seat beside you, instead he tipped his head back and closed his eyes as the sun warmed his face. “There’s something more important to me than winning now. I only get to see Jules every second week, and there’s 28 race weekends this year. There’s just not enough time to race and be the father I want to be for him, the one he deserves.”

When he opened his eyes you could already see the decision had been made, whether he knew it or not. 

“At least you can retire knowing you kept your promise,” you said as you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. “You always swore you’d win a championship with Ferrari, even when no one else thought it was possible.”

His lips parted with a laugh as he kicked the rocks with his sneakers. “Wasn’t easy.”

“Nothing good is. But all that hard work and you never put the #1 on your livery…why?”

He shrugged and buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I chose my number for a reason.”

He could have chosen sixteen for a number of reasons but he always said it was because your anniversary was the 16th of January, you first met in 2016 and one plus six equals seven - his lucky number. He was always looking for patterns in everyday things, he couldn’t help it. 

Your phone vibrated again with a reminder you hadn’t opened the message and you saw Pascale’s name, asking if you had found him. You quickly replied that you had and shoved it back in your pocket before hopping off the wall. 

“Come on, your mum’s probably worrying we’ll be late as usual and you’re my ride off this mountain.” 

“We?” he asked as he cocked an eyebrow up. “I was always ready on time, you were the one who made us late for everything.”

“That’s not how I see it, because as the driver, it’s your responsibility to get us to the destination on time.” 

It was effortless how easy the lighthearted teasing came without any of the biting remarks or bitter sarcasm that had tainted those last months of your relationship. This was, dare you say it, nice. You only hoped it could last because you had missed his friendship most of all. 

“How did you get here?” Charles asked when he looked around the carpark, only spotting a few older model cars alongside the latest Ferrari Purosangue.

“Arthur dropped me off after he picked me up from the airport.” You slipped into the luxury SUV and pouted as the engine started far quieter than the Pista. “Where’s my baby?”

“Gathering dust most of the time.” He nodded his head to the backseat and you looked over your shoulder. “She doesn’t fit a carseat.” 

“Of course, that makes sense.” You shook your head with a small laugh. “I can’t believe how practical you are now.”

“Having Jules changed me. The first time I held him, it was like everything came into focus, you know? I realised if I carried on like I was then he was going to see that behaviour as being okay, and it wasn’t okay.” He glanced across the car making eye contact with you. “I’m trying to be a better man, one he can be proud to call dad.”

Hervé would have been proud to see his family, smiles on their faces as they sat around the tables that had been pushed together to accommodate everyone, celebrating the life he had. 

Lorenzo’s family had grown by two and the toddlers were full of energy as they chased each other around the table; Arthur’s wife, Carla, also had one bundle of joy on the way; and Pascale looked at all of her sons with radiating pride. You almost shed a tear as you sat down for the family dinner after visiting Hervé’s memorial, the love and warmth that filled the Leclerc’s family home felt like the missing piece you hadn’t been able to find on all your travels.

“You okay?” Charles asked as he filled your glass up with the sweet lemonade Pascale had made for her grandchildren.

“For god sake, Charles, offer the woman a proper drink,” Pascale said as she passed a bottle of red wine down the table. 

“It’s okay, I don’t drink anymore,” you said as you passed it on to Lorenzo before returning your attention to Charles. “Do you still do this every month?”

He faked annoyance as he nodded but you could see how happy he was surrounded by his family. “Normally it would be when I have Jules but with the race calendar this month it just didn’t work out.”

The sun was beginning to set as you finished washing the last dish and passed it over to Charles to dry. From the living room you could hear Pascale reading to the children while their parents cleaned up the mess they had made and out on the back porch you could see Arthur and Carla sharing a moment as they watched the red sunset together. 

“I miss this,” you whispered before realising it had been aloud and Charles had heard. 

“Me too,” he sighed and stacked the plate in the cupboard. “How long are you staying?”

“Three days.”

His brows furrowed into a deep frown. “Is that all?”

“I do have a life,” you teased as you stole the dish towel from his shoulder to dry your hands.

“Does that include a boyfriend?”

The laughter faded and you shook your head. “No, there’s no one else.”

His eyes traced your lips and when you saw his tongue roll across his own you stepped back and swatted his arm with the damp towel. “Cut it out, Charles.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he lied through his cheeky smile.

You narrowed your eyes at him and grabbed your handbag from the kitchen side. “I’m going to go now because this has been a really nice evening and I want to keep it that way.”

He swiped his car keys up just as quickly. “I’ll give you a ride.”

“My hotel is only a few blocks away.”

“Then let me walk you, please? These streets aren’t as safe as they used to be. I’ve been mugged twice.”

“Then why would I want a walking target next to me?”

“Shit,” he chewed his lip at his flawed argument and sighed. “Please? I’ll walk you to your door and that’s as far as I’ll go.”

He held his breath as you debated the offer before lifting your hand up, pinky raised. “To the door and no funny business.”

He linked your fingers and shook on it. “Pinky promise.”

It was almost midnight by the time you reached your door. The classic cinema along the way was playing a double feature of Humphrey Bogart and when Charles saw Casablanca was about to start he had hooked your arm into the crook of his elbow and led the way inside. His smile dared you to argue but you had come to enjoy the black and white film whenever he had watched it.  

Hervé had loved to torture his sons by making them sit and watch the film at least five times a year as a family. You had only been there to witness it twice but it was clear despite the feeble grumbles they all had come to love it too, especially when Charles whispered the lines to you under his breath. 

When the lights had gone down in the theatre you had felt the heat of Charles’ arm as it shared the rest with yours between the seats. The projector flickered to life and the speakers crackled as the film began and you were thrown back in time.

You were immersed in the story when your hand was taken, the touch taking a moment to be noticed, and you looked down at your fingers laced between his before following the line of his sleeve until you reached his face.

His eyes were focused on you, and a sad smile played on his lips as he mouthed Rick’s line, “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”

By the end of the second feature you were hardly seeing what was on the screen. You could have left after Casablanca finished but there was a silent agreement that neither of you wanted the night to end. So you had remained in the dark room as most of the other patrons left and To Have and Have Not started, your hands still entwined on the arm rest.

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” Charles asked as you stepped inside your hotel room and he stopped at the threshold, leaning against the frame with your hand still holding his.

You bit your lip to hide the smile that appeared. “If I do?”

“Cancel them.”

“Ohh, sorry, I can’t…I have a lunch date with the prettiest Leclerc.” His smirk grew and he nodded his head in agreement. “But you can join us, I’m sure your mum wouldn’t mind.”

His jaw dropped before his head tipped back with a laugh. “I’d hate to be a third wheel. Maybe I can steal you for breakfast in the morning instead?”

You looked at the time on your phone and saw midnight tick over. “It’s morning now.” You took a step deeper into the room but your hand tugged tight against Charles where he remained firmly planted at the door, shaking his head.

“I made a promise, bella,” he said softly before pulling you back and into his arms so he could press his lips to your forehead. “I made you lots of promises, and I’m going to show you that I will keep them all…if you give me a chance.”

You tucked your head into the curve of his neck and wrapped your arms around his waist. “Three days,” you whispered. “That’s how long you have to show me the kind of man you are now.”

“That’s easy,” he said as he rested his cheek on the top of your head. “I wasn’t a man before. I was just an asshole who let the fame go straight to my head and lost something precious because of it.”

His words caused your stomach to flip and you looked up at him in a new light as you saw the pained look of regret in his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”

“Ma bella,” he groaned, stepping out of your arms and towards the elevator. “Of course I want to come in, but I won’t. We have both changed. I want us to get to know one another again. Start afresh.”

You swallowed down the plea that was on your tongue because he was right. If you fell back into the same pattern like last time it would be stupid to think there would be a different outcome.

You wrapped your arms around yourself to keep from reaching for him as you conceded a nod. “Pick me up at 8am for breakfast?”

“It’s a date.” He started to walk backwards to the elevator like he was savouring every last second of seeing you in person and blew you a kiss as he hit the down arrow. It opened immediately and he looked a little disappointed as he stepped inside before a smile started to curl at the corners of his lips. “And just so you know, I am the prettiest Leclerc…until it is you.”

Three Years Later.

A gentle euphony echoed along the halls of the otherwise silent house and you wiped the sleep from your eyes as you padded barefoot down the staircase. It was far too early to be awake and even the birds had yet to rise with their songs as you passed the large glass doors that overlooked the dark waters of the Côté d’Azur.

With quiet footsteps you crept around the corner to the living room to find the reason why all the beds were empty.

Charles looked exhausted as he sat at the piano bench, his fingers moving slowly over the keys, drawing out each note a beat longer than they should. The retired racer’s jaw trembled with a suppressed yawn but his tired eyes were blinking less and less as he started to slump.

“How long have you been playing, love?” you asked as you sat beside him and brushed his hair back from his face. “The kids are fast asleep.”

“Really?” Charles turned with a groan to see Jules snoring on the sofa with his little sister tucked into his arms. “Melody’s crying woke him up.” He rose to his feet and cracked his back that had gone stiff from playing for hours. “I can’t wait for those teeth to just come through already.”

“You should have woken me.”

He bent in half, groaning at the protest in his back but he pushed through the pain so he could kiss you. “I need this, bella. I can’t feed her when she wakes in the night but I can play her lullaby. And you must have been tired if you didn’t hear her on the monitor.”

You followed your husband to the couch and gently scooped Melody into your arms, praying she was in a deep sleep, before carrying her back up to the nursery. Charles followed with Jules asleep in his arms and took his carbon copy to his bedroom beside Melody’s.

You both breathed a sigh of relief when you met in the hallway, the doors shutting on well-oiled hinges. There wasn't a single sound to disturb the kids as you crept back to your bedroom and Charles curled himself around your body.

“Goodnight, my sweet,” he murmured as he kissed your shoulder. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“You don’t have to thank me everyday,” you said with a smile at the regular bedtime routine.

You felt his smile against your skin. “I do, I’m thankful for you everyday and I always will be. Forever, just like I promised.”

Click here for the alternative ending (Max’s).

[pesky--dust]

I love Chiyoh, but I feel like in a lot of fanfics she is portrayed as horribly cold, emotionless and she doesn't like Will and would do everything to protect Hannibal from him. We don't know much about her, practically as much as nothing, but I'll allow myself an amateur analysis of her person. 

(I spent too much time to read scripts of episodes with her). In inverted commas I placed dialogues and italicized the descriptions from the script. I also added screenshots of scripts, if I felt the need to. In bold letters I wrote the titles of the episodes I discussed and the summary of the whole post, because it turned out to be much longer than I expected. 

Secondo:

We meet Chiyoh in Secondo when Will went to Lithuania to better understand Hannibal. She is an excellent shooter and has a very good intuition — being watched by Will while hunting, she realizes that something has changed on the property (Something is off in this place she knows so well.). 

When she finally meets Will, who tells her he's Hannibal's friend, Chiyoh dips [shotgun’s barrel] slightly, either in hesitation or relief., but when he tells, he is looking for him, she raises the barrel again. She is apparently surprised that Will knows about Mischa, which shows the fragment of the script:

Chiyoh also asks Will how he knows Hannibal and when she hears his answer, she comes to the right conclusion:

Then Chiyoh asks Will to tell his story. We don't know exactly what Will told her, but he must have said something that made her react that way:

Finally she comments his story with: “Hannibal took someone from you, are you here to take someone from him?”, so I guess it's safe to assume Will told her about Abigail, but probably without details about complicated relationship between him, Abigail and Hannibal.

She tells she can understand Hannibal, because he is doing what has been done to Mischa. So she rather knows about killing and cannibalism, however I guess she has no idea about the fact that Hannibal ate his own sister, but about that a little bit later. In my opinion she sees Hannibal's actions as a coping mechanism to deal with what has happened to Mischa (and it wouldn't be wrong, people deal with trauma in different ways).

As I mentioned before, Chiyoh has perfect intuition and realizes that Will is similar to Hannibal (“You're nakama. Aren't you alike?”) and that he thought about killing and eating her (“You've given that some thought.”). Here is a script of that moment:

Will tells her also infamous: “I've never known myself as well as I know myself when I'm with him.” and Chiyoh’s reaction is: She considers that, recognizing the feeling.

Choyoh tells Will her story — she didn’t let Hannibal take the life of Misha's killer, so he left the prisoner's life in her hands. There is a dialog:

Not only Hannibal is curious if Chiyoh would kill the prisoner — Will is also curious, so he frees the prisoner. Prisoner, overwhelmed by the freedom he regained after twenty-five years (Outside for the first time in twenty-five years, the man shivers with terror.), returns to his cell and attacks Chiyoh, when he gains an opportunity to do so. Feeling life slipping away, Chiyoh drives a pheasant bone into the man's neck, eventually killing him, which results with: She does what she has always resisted and deliberately kills the caged man. He slumps and falls off her. She lies still for a moment, then lets out a SCREAM.

She knows Will is responsible for that and tells him that, but the shock of what she did caused also dialogue, in which she begins to wonder if Hannibal lied to her about what happened to his sister:

She decides to help Will to find Hannibal, because she had no reason to stay in Lithuania after killing that man.

Contorno:

On the train, Chiyoh tells Will how she came to meet Hannibal, how they played together as children and Hannibal was, “charming the way a cub is charming, a small cub that grows up to be like one of the big cats.”, with Will commenting, “One you can't play with later.”.

Will talks to her about the prisoner she killed. He asks if she sees herself killing that man, to which Chiyoh responds she does not see herself, but him:

When they are getting ready to bed, they are also talking and the dialogue I'm pasting in the next paragraph, makes me think that Chiyoh, despite living twenty-five years in solitude, can read people like Hannibal like an open book. Will says that violence can be used to control behavior, and Chiyoh notices that Hannibal is affecting Will and wonders if Will is also affecting Hannibal. She also realizes that Will wants to kill Hannibal because he fears otherwise he will become like Hannibal, so she comments with the words, “There are means of influence other than violence.”.

Later she repeats words, “There are means of influence other than violence.”, followed by:

(I really wanted to use that fragment of the script)

Dolce:

In this episode, Chiyoh introduces herself to Bedelia as Hannibal's family. She also tells Bedelia that they are like birds and that Hannibal puts them in cages, wondering what they will do.

When Bedelia asks her what she wants, Chiyoh answers, “I want to cage him.”. Bedelia tells her that she thought that the biggest Hannibal's mistake was Will Graham but maybe it's Chiyoh.

The next time we see Chiyoh, she shoots Will. While treating Will's gunshot wound, Hannibal tells Will that Chiyoh has always been protective of him and is delighted that she, not Will, killed the prisoner.

Later Chiyoh gets into the elevator where Jack is. Realizing that Jack is going to the same floor as she and that the man is watching her suspiciously, Chiyoh tells him, she has mistook the floor and leaves.

Digestivo:

This is the last episode where Chiyoh appears. It is also the episode in which Chiyoh meets Jack Crawford. After Hannibal and Will got kidnapped and Jack is about to be killed, Chiyoh rescues him by killing corrupted police officers, because she thinks she should have done it (“I ought to. I should. Therefore, I must.”). 

At the same time, she apparently realizes that Jack must know both Hannibal and Will. She understands that when she's talking about Hannibal, she apparently must also talk about Will (“You're sitting at Hannibal's table. You know him. You know Will.”).

Jack sees that Chiyoh can be violent, when the situation demands it and being asked, to where Hannibal and Will were taken, he tells her, he will tell her that information if she take his IV away, so she does so. He tells her where to find them and assures her he won't interfere.

To save Hannibal, Chiyoh travels to the United States, to Maryland. There, on the Muskrat Farm, when Hannibal carries Will half-conscious in his arms and is followed by Mason Verger's employees, Chiyoh kills them to keep Hannibal safe.

Next time when we see Chiyoh, she is on the porch of Will's house, where she finally meets Hannibal again. Hannibal asks, if she will go home, if she can go home, to which Chiyoh replies, “No more than you can.”, which is followed by the dialogue:

Much of this dialogue did not end in the episode, but despite everything, Chiyoh has changed her mind and does not want to see Hannibal in the cage anymore. The words “I see the best of you and the worst with steady hands and a slow heart.” I understand as the fact that Chiyoh knows Hannibal, she knows his good and bad traits; she's not afraid of him, but she knows she should be careful and not put her gun down.

I come back also to the topic of her knowledge about Hannibal's actions. As I wrote, she rather didn't know about the fact that Hannibal ate Mischa and it's pretty clear in that moment. She asks him about it and is actually relieved he only ate and didn't kill his sister.

Hannibal’s words “The most stable elements, Chiyoh, appear in the middle of the periodic table, roughly between iron and silver. Between iron and silver. I think that is appropriate for you.” mean to me that even though she killed a man, she's still the same Chiyoh he knew, since she is violent only when situation demands is and she's still going to protect him. Despite what she did, she didn't betray herself, as he did after Misha's death — she's better than him.

The last time we see her is when Hannibal surrenders. She's pointing a rifle at the officers and Hannibal, ready to fire if the FBI wants to kill Hannibal on the spot. Eventually she goes into the woods. It's the last moment we see her, the last moment we hear about her.

Summary (tl;dr)

All in all, Chiyoh is an excellent shooter. She also has great intuition, because — even though she barely met Will Graham — she practically immediately realizes how similar he is to Hannibal. She knows Will and Hannibal must be close if Will knows about Mischa. She also knows Hannibal took away someone close to Will. However, she says she accepts Hannibal because he does what has been done to Mischa, his sister, whom he loved above all else. She sees herself as Hannibal's family, but cries, realizing that maybe Will knows more about Hannibal than she does, because she asks him if Hannibal lied to her about what happened to Mischa.

She had a strict rule not to take a human life, but she's forced to do so in order not to die herself. She wants to protect Hannibal, because he's probably the only family she has.

Her words that there are other means of influence other than violence and her kissing Will, I understand that seeing how identical he and Hannibal are and that Hannibal influences Will's behavior and Will influences Hannibal's behavior, Chiyoh wants to convince Will that he doesn't have to kill Hannibal because violence is not the only means of influencing people's behavior — it can be also love. In my opinion, that's why Chiyoh doesn't kill Will when he pulls out a knife to hurt Hannibal. She shoots him to simply disable him, to give him a chance to reconsider his decision to take Hannibal's life.

She also realizes that apparently when talking about Hannibal, she must also be talking about Will, because in a conversation with Jack, she points out that Jack knows both Hannibal and Will.

At first, she wanted to put Hannibal in a cage, but: 1) after hearing from Bedelia that she thought Hannibal's biggest mistake was Will Graham, and yet maybe his biggest mistake was rather Chiyoh; 2) and after the massacre at the Verger farm; Chiyoh changed her mind.

I think it might have something to do with Jack's words, “I know them. They are identically different, Hannibal and Will.”, and with Bedelia's statement that she thought Will was Hannibal's the biggest mistake, and with the massacre at the Verger farm itself, as everyone Chiyoh has met tells her about closeness between Hannibal and Will; she also saw Hannibal rescuing and carrying Will, taking care of him at his home. 

She realizes that all of this can't be the result of violence. I think she sees that both Hannibal and Will are beasts, but they can control each other to a certain extent. She promises Hannibal that she will continue to protect him, but not in a cage, as some beasts are better not be caged. However, seeing that Hannibal decides to let himself be locked in a cage, she allows it, because it’s his decision.

I believe that after these events, Chiyoh remained in the United States to keep her hand on the pulse in case Hannibal needed her. Given that Chiyoh herself said she can’t go back home for the same reason Hannibal can’t (bad memories) and that, according to Bryan Fuller, she was the one who took care of the house on the cliff, I think that theory makes sense.

[goodgirlgonebard]

(Sort of) WIP Wednesday 🧡✨

Unprompted, here is a bit of Goodnight, My Love chapter 57 — it’s all done along with its other half, chapter 58, just on the back burner for another day or so before I knuckle down for the editing so I can look at it with fresh eyes.

I am thinking I will get these two chapters out to you all before my (25th) birthday in the first week of February — along with a couple more chapters of Dealbreaker, hopefully, so I don’t leave anyone hanging — before taking a little break to just write. I used to have such a good buffer between chapters I was posting vs. actively working on before winter hit and now it’s gone! 😵‍💫 because I have. the seasonal depression. and as I’m typing this we have -20° windchill so everything is awful.

Anyway, here’s GML!

Shadowheart seems to pay no mind to the crunching of bones as she lands blow after blow, as if seeking revenge for being stuck below the beast while the rest of us continued on fighting. “Don’t worry about it,” she says breathlessly, as the creature hits the floor with a heavy thud. Her green eyes find mine a second later, somehow earnest in the maelstrom of blood that is this temple. “I needed your help, and—“ she stops only to take a breath, the violent swinging of her morningstar catching up with her, “—and I wanted to make sure you were alright?”

I can barely even muster up shock for her as my eyes drift back to Astarion, who is has now seemingly landed several deep gashes into his old master; blood pools in different places across the breast and the leg of Cazador’s finely tailored clothes, but he still stands with his staff in hand, ready to fight.

“I’m not sure what you mean—“

“I’m proud of you,” she says, taking up her weapon once more to ready herself for a ghoul running in our direction. “I don’t think I would have cared about these vampire spawn before I met you, but—“ Shadowheart stops to swing, knocking the foul-smelling monster to the ground, and I follow her blow with a wisp of fire from my hands to make sure we will not be interrupted by that one again. “But I see things differently now,” she says, shaking her head as her weapon falls back to her side, as if she can’t quite make sense of it. “They might have families waiting for them,” she mutters, quiet enough that I wonder if it wasn’t even meant for me to hear.

Out in the corridor, I was aware of the fact that our companions could likely hear myself and Astarion bickering, but the idea of them having their own thoughts about our argument did not cross my mind while it was so full of other things. Even when Jaheira stepped in, she made no comment on her opinion on the matter.

“Why didn’t you say something?” I whisper, turning my attention back to the fight between Astarion and Cazador. There are very few of the vampire lord’s retinue of monsters left, leaving the main event for Astarion to take care of. He deserves to be the one to kill Cazador if given the chance, but I am not above protecting him with my wards if I see the need for it arise. “Why didn’t any of you say anything?”

Shadowheart scoffs, as if the answer is obvious. She lays her hand across a gash through the arm of my robes where I was bit, searching for a wound, and though she offers no healing magic over my unbroken skin it still sends a shiver of comfort through my body. “He isn’t going to listen to anyone but you,” she says, a slight hint of a chuckle in her tone. “Least of all me.”

I could almost allow a laugh of my own to escape along with Shadowheart’s as I think back to the multiple arguments Shadowheart and myself have had about Astarion, and the bickering the two of them have only just begun to get a handle on as my relationship with him has changed. Almost; but we are still within this ritualistic temple, still fighting for Astarion’s fate that hangs in the balance, and still unsure how this day will end.

Her words add a new ton of bricks to the weight on my shoulders in regards to this ritual; I already saw all of these vampire spawn, all of these miserable creatures hanging over us in cages as people, but I had yet to consider how many of them may have families waiting for their return. Many of them may not, if they have been here long enough, but those that have been turned more recently — like the Gur children — or those that have long lives like my own kin very well could have parents, siblings or children looking for them. Hoping that they will return home in due time.

Could these vampire spawn return home? Of that I am not sure. Could they control their bloodlust enough to not rip out the throats of their loved ones after years, decades or centuries of starvation? There is really only one way of knowing the answer to that. But don’t they deserve to try? If it was my mother in a cage, if she had gone missing rather than withering away before my eyes, wouldn’t I want to try?

The hand on my arm speaks to how Shadowheart herself relates to their predicament, as well. She is not a vampire spawn trapped in a cage, but a Sharran warrior who has been kept away from her family for longer than she can remember. She gave up hope of seeing her parents long ago when she was fed the lie that they were dead, but ever since being told otherwise by Selûne’s daughter she cannot get the hopeful thought out of her head. How many of these vampire spawn may have family just as hopeful for them? Blood lust and all?

Before we can become too comfortable — or uncomfortable, in my case — Gale calls for Shadowheart much like she called for me a few minutes ago, begging her to cure a wound underneath his robes that caused a pool of blood so large across his back that I cannot bear to witness her reveal it to the daylight around us. My restless feet instead travel towards Astarion and Cazador, who are focused on each other still as Jaheira keeps all of the bats and monsters away from their duel.

Maybe if we can just end this, my heart can stop ripping itself open at the thought of how it will end. Maybe as long as Astarion lives everything will be alright for us, even if the pain of all of the souls that hover in the sigils and in the cages in this temple will haunt me for the rest of my life. An eternal life.

[crushedchair]

hand over the tpot 15 thoughts...naowwwww!!!!

I’ll give what i can compose of my thoughts! tpot 15 spoilers ofc

I hate to start it like this but I’ve had my eye on the whole yoylite thing for as long as I’ve been here (also keep in mind that i literally joined the osc last february i am NOT a reliable source) and if you want me to be COMPELETELY honest: I don’t like how it ended but keep in mind my opinion has HUGE bias, because I like how tennis ball centric it has been for the whole thing. So it kind of caught me off guard that it would be used up like this. Kind of hoped we would learn about tb in BFDIA through it instead of it being a whole another thing among other characters who (with this given context) have very little knowledge of the yoylite in the first place. So if tb isn’t finding another space rock in the future i might as well dump all my earlier theories in the trash. LOL yeah I’m a little upset but it’s ok

If we ignore the first block of text i just wrote, this episode was REALLY cool, I really liked the artstyle changing and the time traveling stuff. I think they write One really well as a villain, and i will acknowledge that even after making my blood boil during the episode. About the elimination, this is the first time since BFB that a contestant who has been in ABNTT got eliminated. In fact, 2 people. damn?? Also, I see why people are acting surprised about jnj suddenly putting death pact at stake but be real with me. Every single original death pacter is still ingame. That’s A TON considering how little people remain from some other teams. To be honest; I wouldn’t be surprised if they keep aiming at their team. I’m mostly neutral about the current dp team but i think i like marker and fanny the best out of them. About team 2; I’m afraid that ice cube might be toast but I’m just gonna cross my fingers and hope for the best. But knowing how popular the rest are; there isn’t many ways to save her unless people have changed their minds.

also I really liked income tax return document this episode. Don’t ask me why i just like him even though he’s a quite rude character. he’s just funny to me for some reason and i love his stupid design. But the whole thing where he actually manages to add himself as a contestant was just silly. Something’s telling me he likes to be the center of attention /silly

I really liked two’s and gaty’s friendship and they made the ending feel super devastating. ”A few changes, huh?” NO!!!!!!! DONT GIVE INTO IT TWO!!!!! and i really like the roles blackhole and tv took this episode :33 Liy was so freaking cool this episode i love herr and gosh Pencil’s reasonable crashout was everything. Even gb was shocked?? It was voice acted so well too gosh I WISH THEY WROTE MORE CRASHOUTS!!!! those are so interesting and help build character,, i worry for pencil though :’j can’t believe a bfdia challenge would cause the fabric of reality to rip and break the universe in the future LOL

In general I like to keep an eye on my favorites on the episodes but unfortunately the majority of my favorites are already eliminated so what can i do also I WROTE THIS ON A WHIM,,, i might change my mind about some stuff later and i could be wrong so shrugs my shoulders

I don’t have any photos of the episode on me rn but have fries bfdia

[jbreenr]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale × Reader

Summary: You wanted to meet Ransom's family, he wanted to make sure you'd never want it again.

Word count: 3k.

Warning: Poorly written smut (+18 only, please), public sex (prompt 11), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that, kids. be responsible), a bit of dirty talk, the Thrombeys being the Thrombeys. And I think that's it.

A/N: So, after finding out one of my stories was stolen an translated in Wattpad, I did not know if I should post this just yet but, what the hell? Let's do it. Anyway, this is for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817 's Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge so, happy belated birthday! Yaaay. 🥳 Hope you like this at least a little and that it's not as bad as my paranoid brain thinks it is. Also, I just love how the prompts fit perfectly together, don't you? As always, lack of vocabulary and grammatical mistakes abound. *apologizes in español*

Wheel results (just attaching evidence):

ᴹʸ ᵍⁱᶠ

Draining, tedious, exasperating. Those were some of the adjectives Ransom associated with Thrombey family reunions. He'd arrive late, have some sort of conversation with his grandfather and leave early to do whatever that took him away from that big house.

Today though, he had a reason to stay for more than half an hour.

If it was up to him, you two would have stayed at home, happy, relaxed, and most importantly, naked in his bed, having a more pleasant time than the one you were most likely about to have. 

He tried to persuade you. Of course he did! But your insistence and puppy eyes made it impossible for him to say no to your request. 

So, here you were, getting out of his car, cake in sweaty hands and an excited smile on your lips, an expression so different from Ransom's, who seemed to be ready to get back behind the wheel and drive straight to Canada.

He didn't knock; he simply opened the door and held it for you to enter. If the three floor house was imposing from the outside, you felt impressed by the inside. Extravagant sculptures, apparently expensive paintings and other kinds of pieces of art were scattered everywhere, telling you just how wealthy and eccentric Ransom's family were. 

“That's Harlan Thrombey! ” You exclaimed as you stood in front of the portrait of your forever favorite author holding a knife and a book.

“So?” Ransom asked, unconcerned.

You turned to him open-mouthed, the cake almost slipping off your palms as you went to playfully slap him in the arm.

“How come you are related to Harlan Thrombey and you didn't tell me?” Your question was more of a shock than an accusation.

The carefree gesture he did with his shoulders only accentuated his next words. “I did not think you would be interested in knowing.”

“I wouldn’t be interested?” Incredulity, flowing out of your lips. “He’s the best thriller author of all time! He’s like today’s Edgar Allan Poe!”

To say that you didn't believe him was an understatement. He knew for a fact that you liked Harlan Thrombey's books, just taking a look at the bookshelf in your apartment was proof enough of that.

“We call him grandpa here.” Said a femenine voice. A brunette walked in your direction, her pretty features hardening as she looked at your boyfriend. “Don't we, Hugh?”

He seemed to be ready to say something but decided not to. Instead he inhaled and placed his hand on your back.

“This is Y/N, the only reason I’m not telling you what you need to hear right now.”

Her eyes rolled in irritation and then turned to you. “I’m Meg. Let's introduce you to the rest of the family, shall we?.” And she dragged you to the room where more people were gathered together, discussing something, not before sending a deadly glare at Ransom.

Given the distance between you and him, you didn't listen to the heavy sigh he let out before waking behind.

“Everyone!” Meg called, making everyone leave whatever they were doing to look at her –and you, in consequence. “Meet Y/N, Hugh's new friend.” She then proceeded to introduce every single member of the family, including the housekeeper and the nurse, except for the grandfather, who apparently had a moment of inspiration and left them momentarily to put his ideas on paper.

None of them left their seat to go and shake your hand except for Meg's energetic mom, who hugged you and expressed how much she loved your coat even though it was soooo last season.

Sitting on a couch next to Ransom, you half expected someone to ask you about how you two met or how long had you been dating or what was it that you did for a living. Nothing. As fast as their attention was on you, it fell from you to their previous discussion.

You now understood why Ransom jokingly suggested deep cleaning the house instead of attending that reunion.

What you weren't aware of, Ransom thought, was that all of them were behaving wonderfully compared to previous times.

You didn't know if you felt more disappointed or uncomfortable. Ransom had left your side to go to the studio for a second and you had barely had any interaction with his family. All of them, dipped in their own matters to even notice your presence. 

Fran, the housekeeper, was kind enough to take the cake to the kitchen and offer you a glass of water, but after giving it to you, she disappeared along with Meg and the nurse. 

“So,” All at once, the room went quiet as Ransom's uncle spoke. “Have you read any of dad's books, Y/N?” Only until you heard your name was that your head snapped up.

“Oh, uhm… yeah. I'm a big fan.” Taken by surprise, you simply answered.

“Really? Which one have you read?”

And to that question, you felt suddenly included in the conversation since you had knowledge of the topic.

“I'm like fifty pages from finishing 'The Needle Game' and intrigue is eating me alive.” As you heard the excitement in your voice, you tried to compose yourself and said “Though 'Nick Of Time' is my favorite.” You smiled at him, hoping that your answer was a good one.

The woman that was introduced to you as Ransom's mother nodded as she licked her lips. The light of the fireplace, reflecting on her glasses as she moved her head up and down.

“Have you read 'Ultimatum' or 'Drop In The Pocket', dear?” Her tone was curious, but the look on her face said differently.

You responded anyway. “They're not bad. I feel like the ending of 'Drop In The Pocket' was a little vague and out of line but it can always be interpreted as an open ending so…” The change in their expressions told you that you had to add something else to that answer. Maybe it was not time for literature humor yet. “But I enjoyed both.”

She hummed and took her drink, detaching from the talk that continued with courtesy questions until it morphed into a heated discussion between Ransom's father and uncle, who would repeatedly ask for your opinion to back up his own.

The discomfort you felt, dispelled to be replaced by the disturbance of being bombarded with dozens of questions at a time, each louder than the other until they changed to a completely different topic to which you were occasionally included as a neutral point of view.

“She knows what she's talking about!” Said Richard at some point when you confirmed one of his arguments. “Thank you, dear.”

Ransom came back from his obligatory argument with his grandfather to find you nowhere to be seen. 

“She's using the bathroom.” Informed Jacob, who did not take his eyes off of his cellphone. 

Thinking that you went there to hide, he started his way to your potential direction until an overheard observation from his mother stopped him halfway through. 

“… Did you hear how she talked about dad's work? Oh, I assure you she won't make it to next week with Ransom.”

Her and Richard's backs were to him, both of them unaware that their son was listening to their share of opinions.

“And did you see her hands?” Joni joined the criticism contest. “She could use some moisturizer, I tell you.”

As usual, they ignored her attempt to fit in and kept going.

“I know it's contradictory to say this,” Richard paused, as to make his point clear. “But he could do better.”

Despite their whispering, Ransom heard every single word and was glad that you were not there to see what was about to happen… 

Ransom's words stuck on his throat when he saw you making your way out of the bathroom, fixing the skirt of your dress, with such niceness and warmth directed to him as you smiled, oblivious to the fact that the people you were trying to get to like you weren't going to. 

His parents were right. He could do better. He could determine to not see them ever again and it would be the best thing to happen to him… Besides you, obviously.

“What's wrong?” Your concern was evident, just as his annoyance was undeniable.

Cold hands caressed his cheeks and Ransom thought of going back to Joni and tell her to fuck off. Your touch was soft, comforting, and gave him the greatest idea he'd ever had.

“I want to show you something.” Was his answer. It was better if you were the one who decided to never step on that house for the rest of your lives. It didn't matter if it was out of embarrassment.

Taking your hand in his, he guided you up the stairs to the first landing. The creaking sound of the old structure, probably alerting everyone in the other room that you were going to the next floor.

“Are you okay?” The sweet giggle that you let out when he abruptly stopped, almost making him feel bad about what he was seconds away from doing. 

“Better than ever.” And he stamped his lips to yours. 

Taken aback, it took you a second to respond. Hands on each side of his face as his own explored your body. When his fingers lifted your dress to caress your ass cheeks was when you ended the kiss. 

“What are you doing?” You asked in a breathless whisper. “Not that I'm complaining.”

You were cornered against the wall with Ransom towering in front of your smaller frame.

Trying to escape from whatever he had in mind was useless, you knew that much. Though, you were not sure if you really wanted to escape.

“What I've been wanting to do ever since you got a shower without me this morning.” His lips found your jaw and descended to your neck where he sucked to create a bruise. Your eyes closed to the sensation.

“Wait. No, wait.” His fingertip that had started rubbing your still clothed bud paused it's motions as his eyes focused back on your face. “We can't do it. Not here.”

Ransom's finger went back to work, bringing a soft moan that you tried to suppress. “Why not? No one's gonna come here.” His other hand moved up your thigh to lift it. “Even if they did, they wouldn't notice.”

With an expert swing of his wrist, he moved your panties aside, letting the cold air that wandered inside the house hit you before his skilled middle finger entered you while still managing to rub your clit in circles with his thumb.

Adrenaline ran through your veins, fuel activating every nerve in your body and shaking away fear from your brain, replacing it with lust and boldness.

“I'm blaming you if we get caught.” Your hips jolted forward wanting to feel more of his hand, the contradiction between your words and actions, making him smirk.

He added a second finger. Knuckles deep and his cold ring slowly warming against the inside of your thigh, he said, “I'll take responsibility, sweetheart.” Pumping his fingers in and out, he felt your slick running down the back of his hand to his wrist, wetting his overly expensive watch and the cuff of his cozy sweater .“But I can't assure you we won't get caught.”

His words, instead of working as a bucket of cold water as one would expect, increased your need to be touched by him, the yearning for him to take you right there and then. 

“Damn it, Ransom.” One of your hands flew to his shoulder to hold onto him for dear life. “I'm close.”

“You're not cumming unless I'm inside you, pretty thing.” At what point did he unfasten his belt and unzipped his trousers, you had no idea. The friction of his digits was gone in a second but the feeling of his already leaking tip rubbing against your most sensitive parts was enough to make you forget about those trifles.

Your lips opened, ready to tell him to keep his voice down when he suddenly thrusted home, stretching you out so deliciously that you had to cover your mouth to muffle the moan that threatened to inform everyone of your current activities.

Ransom's breathing hitched. Being inside you was a dream come true, feeling your walls enveloping his cock so fucking good… it was like you were made for each other, and he was going to prove it, even if his family didn't really get to know.

His hips started moving. Back and forth, back and forth. Delicately at first, letting you adjust to his size but the second he felt you throbbing around him, he increased the pace. Little by little his pounds gained power and energy.

Your whimpers –stuck in your throat, leaving only soft snuffles that crashed against Ransom's cheek, soon became more rapid, erratic and as his fingers dug in the flesh of your thigh to keep you still while he accommodated to go even deeper you heard a creaking noise.

Your boyfriend's blue eyes met yours, his movements never faltering despite the alert given by the dark wooden floor under your feet.

There was a conflict in your head, and Ransom could tell. The way you tightened and the pleading look on your face told different stories, yet Ransom knew they had the same ending.

Shaking your head, your eyes asked him not to do it, but you knew Ransom well enough to be sure that not even begging could stop him. 

“You love it, don't you?” His smile grew bigger as his change of position allowed him to hit your sweet spot on and on, ripping high pitched whines from you and obligating you to close your eyes. “The thought of getting caught. The image of someone seeing how good I make you feel.” The placement of his foot, making the landing creak repeatedly each time he pushed up accompanying every word. “Fuck, you're talking me so well. Such a dirty girl, uh.”

His big hand yanked the strap of your dress down, exposing your left boob. Your already hard nipple was soon attacked by Ransom's fingertips. He'd pinch and twist it slightly, just enough to make your back arch in search of his touch.

Pleasure was overflowing your senses, you could feel your heart thudding in your ears and your legs losing strength. Your hand left your mouth to grip at the back of Ransom's neck to keep you from falling.

The sight of your lower lip trapped between your teeth didn't please Ransom. In other circumstances, he would've let you stay that way, as quiet as possible so no one would walk on you. This time though, it was his intention to rip the most delicious sounds from your lips so you thought of the possibility of his family listening.

And so, he lent to kiss you, passion and desire transmitted through his breath. His tongue asked for a permission that was not really required, but as you let it in, Ransom took the opportunity to bite down your lip.

With your lips forcefully parted and Ransom's restless hand traveling back to your bundle, you had no other option than to moan with each quick circle his digits drew.

A series of laughs and undistinguished words were heard from a distance. Both Ransom and you turned to see what they were about, stopping in your tracks with him still buried deep inside your needy cunt.

“Guess dinner's ready.” Unbothered about the information he just gave, he hid his face in the crook of your neck and resumed his movements.

A shaky oh, fuck fell from your lips as you felt the familiar knot in your stomach forming. Your head flew back, hitting the wall with a soft thud. 

“Careful. We don't want to be obvious, do we?” You knew you were about to explode, and by the way your walls were clenching and your trembling body tried to separate from him, Ransom knew as well. “Let go, sweetheart.” A roar erupted from him as he felt you tightening around his length. “Cum for me.”

With a last, powerful thrust of his hips, you let out a silent scream. The coil snapped, making you see a kaleidoscope of colors behind your eyelids and listen to a loud ring in your ears. 

Ransom followed right after, cursing as he finished inside of you, coating you with every last drop and making sure everything would stay there.

He slid out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness as he zipped his trousers and took a step back to let you fix your appearance.

You managed to accommodate your dress just in time for Ransom's family to walk out of the room they were in to see you. Your agitated breathing and blushed cheeks, getting everyone's attention. 

“Are you okay, dear?” Ransom's dad asked.

“She's fine.” Your boyfriend answered for you. “She's feeling a little sick. I better take her home.” He took you by the hand and helped you down the stairs to the door, which you thanked. Had he not done it, you would have tripped taking the first step.

“But she hasn't met grandpa yet.” Meg noted, furrowing her brows.

“It'll be next time.” And with that, Ransom took you out of the house and in the passenger seat of his car without giving anyone the chance to say goodbye.

When you were at a considerable distance, you sighed, letting out the air you didn't know you were holding.

“Just so you know, there won't be a next time.” You informed him, against your want to meet his grandfather.

“Why not?” He asked with a chuckle, already knowing the answer. 

“Cause embarrassment won't let me come back in the near future.”

Behind an eye roll and a tap on your thigh, Ransom hid the triumphant grimace his perfectly carried out plan gave him.

[infinitefandomimagines]

Scarred - Zuko x Reader

WARNINGS: ARGUING, BURN SCARS, ANGST

-

REQUEST: zuko x reader where the reader is the last one to forgive zuko at the western air temple bc he accidentally hurt her in the crystal catacombs and than zuko goes to her tent, begging for forgiveness and she shows him the scar he gave her and it’s super fluffy:33

-

"Y/N. . . what do you say?" All eyes landed on you, waiting for your response to Aang's question. However, there was only one pair of eyes in particular you glared back at; and if looks could kill, the recently renounced Fire Nation prince in front of you would've surely met his demise right then. But Zuko knew how to hold himself in front of those who wanted to intimidate him. If there was anything his father taught him, it was that much.

Despite your fiery stare and previous threats from the first time he pleaded for forgiveness that you'd "knock him on his ass" if he ever came near you again, he kept his composure. There was no doubt in his mind you'd stay true to that warning, which is why he made sure to keep enough distance between the two of you.

There was a hopeful gleam in his eyes, so far Aang, Sokka, Katara, and Toph had agreed to let him join the team, albeit some more hesitantly than others. If everyone else found it in their hearts to forgive and forget, surely you could as well. Wrong.

"No."

You saw the last bit of hope fizzle from his eyes as defeat weighed down on him, causing his shoulders to sink and his head to drop. "I know you don't trust me, I don't blame you. I've done horrible things, hurt you and your friends-"

"You can't even begin to imagine the amount of pain you've caused me!" Your words held a venomous sting, yet your tone was strained, calm almost.

"Y/N," Katara stepped up behind you, her voice was soft. You could barely feel the hand she'd placed on your left shoulder, thick and itchy bandages blocking her attempt at comfort. "I don't like it either, but Aang needs to learn fire bending."

"I really believe he's changed, give him a chance to-"

You cut Aang off, finally breaking your gaze from Zuko to face the young monk. "He's already had too many chances!"

No one could admit that you were wrong, not even Zuko. Because every time he'd faught against your little group of rag-tag heroes, you'd given him a chance. Even while the rest of team avatar faught the exiled prince, you never threw a single blow that wasn't defensive or to save your friends. Instead, you'd offer him a chance to join the right side. Of course, he never accepted, but you saw the benefits of your kindness when he'd began to show a sense of mercy against you. There was something in your head telling you he was more than just a villain.

But that mindset changed when you and the gang faught against him and his sister in the crystal catacombs. When Aang almost died. When he chose the Fire Nation's side. When he'd made sure to leave you a permanent reminder of that day.

After a few moments of tense silence, you let out an impatience scoff. "Leave, Zuko. I gave you my answer, the least you can do is respect it."

Reluctantly, he nodded, mumbling out an apology before turning on his heels. He only got in a few steps before Aang interjected.

"Zuko, stop."

He did, glancing over his shoulder, ready to hear what Aang had to say.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but Zuko is staying. I need need to learn fire bending and he's my only option. I really believe he's changed for the better."

"You don't have to forgive him, but Aang's right, we need him," Sokka added in, to which Toph agreed.

You took in their words, it was obvious they weren't up for debate. You hated that they were right, you all did need Zuko, no matter your current opinion on him.

"Fine," you sighed, looking at Zuko, who was now standing awkwardly with his hands behind his back. "But stay away from me."

Over the next few days, Zuko had somehow managed to gain the complete and utter trust of everyone, even Katara. Everyone except you. Then again, you hadn't had your "life changing field trip with Zuko" that made everyone seemingly forget about everything he'd ever done to them. Field trip or not, earning your trust wasn't going to be that easy. You didn't care how many times he made everybody tea and told cringey jokes.

"Where did you learn to make so many different types of tea?" Aang inquired, causing everyone to look at Zuko, wanting to hear his answer.

Zuko returned to his seat around the fire between Toph and Aang, finally finished handing out small cups of tea. "My uncle, it's his favorite thing to make, he even owned a tea shop at one point."

"You mean the one you betrayed," you deadpanned coldly. You flicked your eyes up from the warm cup of tea in your hands to Zuko, wanting to see his reaction.

His smile faultered, and katara shot a disapproving look at you. For a second you felt guilty, maybe that was too far. He looked genuinely hurt by your comment, but soon another emotion took over his features. You could see it in the way he clenched his jaw and sat up straighter.

"Yeah. That one." His tone was one of poorly restrained bitterness, you'd definitely struck a nerve.

You hummed in response, refusing to break eye contact with him, like you were challenging him to say something equally as cold, but he didn't take the bait. Instead, he took a deep breath, just like his uncle taught him.

"I don't get it," He asked, frustrated and fed up with your snarky comments and side eyes. "Everyone else trusts me, why can't you?"

"You really have to ask?"

Katara could feel the tension and awkwardness of the impending argument hanging over everyone. This wasn't the time nor place to be having this conversation.

"I think now would be a good time for another healing session," she interjected, giving you a look that informed you she wasn't exactly asking. With a frustrated huff, you stood up and made your way to your tent, not even waiting for Katara to follow.

You plopped down onto your sleeping bag, sitting with your left side towards the opening.

Katara was there in a few minutes, holding a medium sized bowl of water in her hands. She gently set it down on the ground, taking a seat on your sleeping bag as well, facing your left side.

You tugged your left sleeve down so you could free it. With your shoulder now exposed, she carefully removed the bandages that covered your shoulder and the side of your neck, revealing the red and scarred skin hidden underneath.

"How does it look?" You asked, attempting to ignore the itchy feeling of the fresh air hitting your wound.

"It's healing, slowly" she answered as she conjured the water from the bowl and molded it with her hands. She purified the liquid, causing it it glow. Slowly, she lowered it until the cool water molded over your injured skin. You clenched your teeth and whimpered at the sudden sting the contact made, but then Katara started making circular motions with her hands, beginning the healing process. The stinging pain soon morphed into a comforting cold and relieving sensation.

Katara had done this for you and Aang multiple times since the gang escaped from that wretched crystal catacomb. As much progress as your skin had made in healing, you couldn't seem to wipe the painful memories of how you'd recieved such a wound from your mind. You could remember the events so vividly it was as if they'd happened yesterday.

You were stalling, Zuko and Azula knew that, yet they didn't seem to mind. If anything, Azula enjoyed watching you struggle to give your friends more time. You needed to stall them long enough for Aang to fully enter the avatar state, that's all.

"Come on, Zuko, you know what needs to be done!" Azula coaxed.

"No! You still have a chance Zuko, you can still make this right!" You could see the conflict rising in him as you and Azula tugged at his morals.

There was a moment, a single second where his emotions betrayed him, where you could see how badly he wanted to go with you and the gang. But it was gone just as fast as it came.

"I will kill the avatar and restore my honor, as well as my rightful place beside my father!" He launched into action, sending overpowering blows your way.

He kept you distracted and unable to help your friends long enough for Azula to strike down Aang. Your head snapped towards Katara's screams and you saw him laying there, completely unconscious.

You were distracted, and Zuko impulsively took advantage, sending a blast of orange and red flames towards you.

In all honesty, he expected you to dodge it, you always did without fail. But this time you were too distracted, too concerned with Aang, and he caught you completely off guard. You didn't even realize you were being attacked until the flames painfully scorched your skin.

You let out a horrifying scream as you crumbled to your knees, your shaky hand hovering over your left shoulder as you tried to control your instinct to grab it, knowing it would only hurt worse. You clenched your teeth together, biting back tears as you whipped your head around go see Zuko.

He looked shocked, remorseful even, but that didn't stop anger from edging its way into your glare.

You shuddered at the memory and tried to shake it from your head completely.

"You're all done," Katara said, maneuvering the water back into the bowl. A dull ache returned to your wound, but it felt significantly better than before.

"Thanks, Katara," you mumbled.

"Do you need help rewrapping the bandages?"

You shook your head, preferring to be alone and do the difficult task by yourself. Katara seemed to understand, because she didn't push the issue like she usually would. Instead, she left you with a few words.

"What you said was too far tonight, you should really apologize to Zuko, he is trying you know?"

She didn't wait for a response, not that you planned on giving much of one anyway, but soon you were alone, relishing in the peaceful silence.

But your silence didn't last long, just a few minutes after Katara left there was a whispering voice just outside your tent. It was unmistakable who'd come to visit you, and with great reluctance did you let him in.

"What do you want?" you asked, annoyance filling your voice. You refused to make eye contact with the boy, opting to stare at the mess of tangled bandages in your hands.

Your question was met with silence, that only seemed to worsen your mood. Really? He invades your tent just to ignore your one question? This guy was just unbelievable!

You could feel yourself loosing your temperature once again. "I said, what do you-" Your head snapped up at Zuko, ready to tell him off. But you froze when you saw his gaze, and how it held your figure. His jaw was slack, and his eyes swam as tears pooled at his lash-line. But his eyes never met yours. No, his focus was completely on the uncovered scar that graced your left side.

Your shoulder had taken most of the impact, just shy of being completely colored with a dull red scar. But the wound didn't stop there, covering a decent portion of your shoulder blade. The red marking also stretched up in a jagged stripe, narrowing to a point on the side of your neck, just barely marking your cheek.

You hated how you shuddered under his gaze, and had to look away. Your fingers moving faster as your tried to unravel the tangled bandage. You wanted to cover the burned area as soon as possible.

"I- I did that." It wasn't a question. He spoke purely in matter-of-fact statements, he knew exactly where you'd received your mark from.

"Yeah." You said sharply, picking up the bandage and moving to re-wrap the large wound.

"I . . . I am so sorry-"

"You've said."

Re-wrapping the affected area was proving to be more difficult than you'd thought, especially in your heightened state or frustration. Usually Katara did this part, and you were starting to regret sending her away.

"Please, let me help you," Zuko pleaded, reaching a shaky hand out to grasp at the bandage in your grip. You immediately flinched away from him, the sudden movement sending a sharp pain through your left side.

"Stay away from me!" You bit at him.

Zuko immediately pulled his hand back from you, as if he'd burned you unintentionally for a second time. "I'm sorry," he impulsively spilled out.

"Would you stop saying that? Stop apologizing, nothing is going to make me- ow!" Your own pain cut your sentence short, the sharp pain returning, sending another shock wave up your side at your frustrated movements.

"I'm so- just, please, let me help you and then I'll leave you alone, I promise."

You took a moment to think about the offer, and as much as you didn't want his help, the promise for him to leave is what enticed you to agree. So reluctantly, you handed him the bandages and positioned yourself closer to him, allowing Zuko to access your wound and wrap it with ease.

With slow movements, Zuko began wrapping the burned area. His touch was suprisingly gentle, even more so than Katara's, something you hadn't thought possible. But even with his feather-like touch, your skin still twitched as his fingers and the bandages made contact with the more sensitive areas. Zuko muttered out small apologies each time you flinched, despite your earlier message to stop that. Though the skin had begun the early stages of scarring, it was still sensitive.

"Uh, d-did I ever tell you how I got my scar?" Zuko asked suddenly, not even bothering to look up from his task. You knew what he was doing, he'd been doing things like that since he got here, trying to make small talk with you to cover up the awkward tension. You usually never entertained it, but for some reason tonight you felt intrigued by his question.

"No." You answered shortly, trying your best not to show your growing interest. You'd always been curious about the scar.

"My father gave it to me," he stated, oddly calmly. It was almost mindless the way he told the story as he continued to carefully wrap up your injury. Like the memory had become second nature to tell.

"Oh," you whispered out softly, your mind buzzing with a million different ways to respond to him, yet none of them felt right.

"I spoke out of turn during a meeting, over a general. They wanted to sacrifice an entire division of fire nation soldiers to gain the advantage. But I-," He swallowed thickly. ". . . I thought that was wrong so I spoke up."

You nodded ever so slightly, letting out a soft hum, showing that you were still listening and waiting for him to continue. At this point Zuko had finished wrapping the bandages around your burn, allowing you to turn your body to face him fully.

"My father was furious with my disrepect towards the general. He said that the dispute would need to be resolved with an agni kai, and I accepted. And when the day came I thought I'd be fighting the general I interrupted, but then my father walked out, my agni kai was to be against him."

With each word you felt your heart grow heavier and ache for the boy you swore you hated. You were beginning to question whether you genuinely hated him or if what you truly felt was left over betrayal and anger.

"How old were you?" You finally asked the question that had been bouncing around your head since he began the story.

"Thirteen, not long before I was banished."

You felt yourself boil with anger, but for once it wasn't directed towards the boy in front of you. No, you were furious with the Fire Lord. Who could do that to someone? To a child. Zuko must not have noticed the way your jaw clenched and your fists tightened into balls, because he continued the story as if he hadn't just made your heart drop into your stomach with his answer.

"I didn't want to fight my father, I couldn't. But he took my refusal as another sign of disrespect. I begged for his forgiveness, but he wouldn't hear it. He claimed that I would learn my lesson through suffering. He raised his hand just in front of my face and then he-"

His voice caught in his throat with a crack as he visibly grimaced from the sheer memory of the event. Instinctively, you reached out for his hand, placing yours over top of his much larger one. Now it was his turn to flinch at the sudden contact.

"Zuko, it's okay, you don't have to tell me this, I understand-"

"No! I do! I need you to understand that I never meant to hurt you! I need you to know that the last thing I wanted was for you to feel the same pain I did. After what my father did, I never wanted to inflict that on anyone. I knew that pain and yet I still hurt you . . . the one person who actually believed I could change!"

His hands flew into the air as his frustrated yells of regret were lost to the silent night. He then exasperatedly brought his arms back down and dropped his head into the palms of his hands. His body shook as he took in deep breaths, trying his best not to shed any tears. He was just so frustrated with himself.

"I thought you would dodge it," His muffled whimpers poured out. "You always dodged it."

It was then that you realized how cold you'd been to the boy. You were so caught up in your own hurt and anger, only concerned with making him feel as horrible as you had with your hurtful words. Not once had you considered that he was already kicking himself ten times harder for the pain he'd caused you. He really hadn't meant to hurt you.

And that's when you did something unexpected. In an impulsive attempt to comfort him, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him in to a hug. His breath hitched, obviously shocked by the gesture, his body going stiff.

"I understand now, I forgive you, Zuko."

At those seven words he melted into your embrace, returning it as he wrapped his arms around your figure. His chin now rested on top of your good shoulder, as he was being extra cautious as to not press on your burns.

"And I'm sorry, for what I said about you and your uncle. He'd be proud of you."

His grip on you tighten, mumbling out a 'thank you,' in the process, finally feeling as though he could fully begin healing from all the wrong he'd done.

-

TAGLIST: @theepartygetsmewetter  

[unoriginalmess]

A Second Mask: Chapter 4

Did that just happen?

Hello guys! It's me. I'm finally writing again. Sorry about the delay. I'm going to explain more at the end of the chapter, but I'm just going to keep the beginning short. So here is chapter 4:

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

To say Adrien was concerned would be a huge understatement. He was downright disturbed. Its been weeks and still Marinette hadn't changed back to the happy, peppy, nice girl that he knew. AND SHE WOULDN'T EVEN TALK TO HIM ABOUT IT!

He tried to talk to her for a whole week after her original trasformation, but after the repeated firm rejections, he stopped altogether. He figured that maybe with some space, she might be able to work through whatever she was going through, but at this point, he's losing hope.

When he is feeling this distressed about something, he usually turns to his lady, but she has been acting weird too. Ever since she suggested they start sparring, she's started to show that she is going through kinda a rough time as well. She is the same ladybug when everyone is watching, but when it's just the two of them, she looks sad and tired. She has also started saying some concerning things while they are sparring. She has started talking about how she has started taking being Ladybug and the Guardian more seriously, and how she has less distractions now, which would be a good thing if she didn't say them so sadly.

The good thing is, the sparring has given him a chance to get out his aggression because of the whole Marinette-situation and his anger at his father in a safe environment. He didn't like the idea of hitting Ladybug at first (especially in the face) but with her not holding back on her hits, he felt more comfortable doing the same. It has helped them fight better too. He hopes that whatever Ladybug is going through in her civillian life will work itself out soon, but until then he will be there for her. He just needs to figure out how to be there for Marinette.

•••

Felix was making good progress with Marinette. After they first asked marinette about (insert fashion question of your choice here, I legit know nothing and I didn't have time to research anything for this chapter), she had started answering their questions on a daily basis. After a couple of days of that, she had started to rant to them about different things in the fashion world that were bothering her, exciting her, or confusing her that particular day. In response to that, they had started to respond to her rants with their own opinions on the subjects and even start their own rants.

It had gotten to the point where Felix would now consider them to be friends, though they know that Marinette would never call them as such, it was fine with them. They know she has trust issues, and they can understand why, so they are fine with being friends in everything but a name.

Felix was looking forward to their daily banter as they waited in their seat for Marinette to arrive. When she did, she was followed by a very pissed-looking Alya. Felix turned to look at her and noticed that she had what looked to be tears forming in her eyes. What they didn't notice was the little black butterfly that had entered through the window in the back of the room, and was making a beeline towards her.

•••

Marinette walked to school in yet another one of her newest fashion creations: a pair of oversized grey ripped jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt. She was actually really liking her new look, and the comfort that it offered was just an added plus.

She was actually feeling excited to talk to Felix about Gabriel Agreste's newest fashion flop. They were the only person that she had met that actually cared about fashion as much as her. It made her happy to talk to them. It kind of scared her how excited she was. Shouldn't she be distancing herself from everyone? she thought to herself. No. Felix isn't my friend, they aren't close to me, they are just someone I talk fashion with. Like a coworker, yeah. Totally. Felix is just a coworker. ("Liar" says the inner voice in her head)

She was shocked out of her thoughts when she was pulled to the side by someone as she entered the courtyard. Her mind immediately thought of an akuma, when the person spoke.

"Marinette! Girl," Oh it's just Alya. Wait Alya? "How long are you gonna keep up this cry for attention? Are you really THAT jealous of Lila? I know that Adrien likes her, but that doesn't give you the right to act like this! And you are hanging out with Felix, who accused her of sexually harrassing Adrien on their first day here-?" She looked absolutely furious at her, but Marinette had heard enough. She cut Alya off in the middle of her presumably long rant.

"ALYA!" Said girl jumped at both the inturruption and the tone of voice used, "First of all, this isn't a cry for attention, if anything its a cry for leaving me the fuck alone. Second of all, I'm not jealous of Lila. I'm not in love with Adrien anymore, and haven't been for a while. You knew that I was dating Luka right? Why would I care who Adrien likes? Lastly, I am allowed to hang out with whoever I choose, whether you like them or not. It's none of your fucking business Alya, and if you think that I'm just some jealous, attention-seeker why do you even care?" With that last question she stormed off to the classroom, leaving a speechless Alya behind her.

When marinette sat down in her seat, she just kept thinking about how Alya was just talking to her. How could she think that about her? They used to be best friends, and Alya wasn't even concerned about her not talking to her anymore, she was just concerned about her being "jealous of Lila". It made her so furious that she could feel tears trickling down her face. She sees the black butterfly out of the corner of her eye and without hesitation grabs it out of the air.

(Next part is taken from this post by @bigfatbreak)

"Go ahead and akumatize me- See what happens, Hawkmoth!" She screamed the words with a slight madness that the energy of the akuma was giving her, "Every leash has two ends! I just have to pull until I find where you're holding it!"

At this point, the entire class was frozen in place watching her and listening to her crazed-sounding voice threaten an actual terrorist. Marinette felt Hawkmoth's confusion and terror through the bond. What in the- She's sensing me through the Akuma?! The akuma then started to fly away, and when it couldn't it zapped her hand like it was made of lightning and fluttered through the same window it came from. Marinette felt like she had failed yet again and collapsed down on her desk, muttering, "Uuuuggghh. It escaped anyway... What a waste. I didn't realize that Hawkmoth was such a coward. He usually likes grandstand..."

She was startled when her hand was picked up by Felix's, "You likely scared him off by managing to locate him like that... A risky move, I should mention. I would ask that you not attempt that a second time. No one knows what his akuma is truly capable of. You'll want to keep off of this hand for a while, too."

"Oh, are those the doctor's orders? Why, Felix, it almost sounds like you care about meeee." Marinette was all too amused by Felix's concern for her. She also liked to tease them... AS COWORKERS DO.

"I have an investment in your presence. Now don't be cheeky and let's get you to the nurse's office," They said while holding her wrist and gently pulling her in that direction.

Marinette scoffed, "'An investment in my presence'??"

Felix chuckled while still semi-dragging her by the wrist towards the front of the room, being careful not to hurt her injury even worse, "What did I just say about being cheeky?"

On their way out of the door they passed a VERY distressed-looking Adrien. He seemed to be sharing the sentiment with the entire class of: Did that just happen?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

And thats chapter 4. It is VERY LATE! I know. I've been swamped with work, and when I went to write it, I had zero ideas on how to write this chapter. I never ended up getting those ideas. I just went where my writing took me, so if it doesn't really match the characters that's why. I will try to be better at updating regularly, but it probably won't happen. Sorry to everyone with a normal sleep schedule, but this is the time that I write things. Also I didn't have my outline with me while writing this chapter, so it might not have everything I planned to write in it.

I would like to thank you all for all of the support I've been getting on this fic. Despite all of the chapter delays, you guys have stuck with me through all of it, so thank each and every one of you. I love seeing so many people loving this au as much as I do. Without you guys this story wouldn't exist, and I would've stopped writing it after the first chapter.

As always, constructive criticism is always accepted. I love being able to improve my writing whenever possible.

Thank you for reading. Have a nice day/night/whenever you are reading this. See ya next time guys, gals, and non-binary pals.

Taglist

@queer-illusion @apasponsor @heckinggremlin @1-ahiro-1 @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @sassakitty @lennauts @rianoel @dorkus-minimus @khneltea @welp-that-was-unexpected @mlnchlymrshmllw @lovelyautumnsunflower @chariphrasis @lovesbooks @komatsuna-yuki @polyvirnl @innocentlyguiltyfrenchfry @qhobias @ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole @hammalammadamdam @cloudydaysomewhere @alcoholic-barney @basenikon @xxbehindthemaskxx @corporeal-terrestrial @shadowymemoirs @moonlight-densetsuu

[dathen]

Okay I have some complicated thoughts following Melanie’s arc that all build on top of each other and hinge HEAVILY on unreliable narrator interpretations so bear with me

In my relisten I’m at the beginning of s3, and it always shocks me a bit at how quickly she interprets Martin’s interaction with her as hostile.  I’m going to skip over the “it’s understandable, Melanie’s had a hard time in her career” disclaimers since there’s plenty of meta on that already, and instead follow the effects of this tendency: not on others, this time, but on her

(This got absurdly long and covers so many episodes so I’m going to split it into separate pre- and post-bullet surgery posts)

Rewinding a bit, the last time she was at the Institute, she was starting to get along with Jon before he seemed confused about her comment on “the other Sasha.”  It takes her a split second to interpret that confusion as him suddenly deciding to gaslight and mock her, gets angry and tells him there is something seriously wrong with him, and leaves before he can ask what she means.  Given how tenuous their truce was and the fact she and Jon had mocked each other in the past, it’s an outburst that at least has some personal history behind it.

But only a couple episodes later, we learn that it’s not just Jon she responds to in this way.  In TMA 84, she meets our Martin Blackwood!  Customer service voice opposite-of-Jon politeness extraordinaire!  And as soon as he gets confused about the two Sasha comment, she.......immediately assumes that HE is also trying to gaslight her.  She insists that “I’m not doing this again” without giving him a chance to ask or explain, so they miss the opportunity to piece together the deal with the Not!Sasha.  Her doing this with someone she just met shows a much broader pattern than her interactions with Jon.

That very episode, Elias offers Melanie a job, and she accepts despite Martin’s protests.  Later, she accuses them all of them being an “old boy’s club” because she interpreted Martin’s warnings as sexism rather than trying to protect her.  As the audience, we see the unreliable narrator of her perspective at work: we know that Jon and Martin were genuinely confused, and we know that Martin was trying to save her, and that all of these instances were her seeing it as people being out to get her.

Hop forward to the notorious gossip scene in TMA 106.  Here, Melanie complains about Martin being hostile to her.  My first assumption was that this was all offscreen, but after this parade of misinterpretation and comparing to her and Martin’s actual interactions, I have to wonder:

TMA 84, after Martin tells Melanie about the murder, and right before Elias interrupts:

Martin:  Are you sure you’re alright?

Melanie:  Yes!  I just got… God, I’m kind of at the end, you know?

Martin:  The end of what?

Melanie:   Everything.  Friends, clues, savings. Everything.  Options.  There’s nowhere left for me to go . I don’t know why, but…  I just, I just felt that perhaps coming here might help.  And talking things out with Jon.  I mean, I mean he’s awful, but at least he listens, you know?

Martin:   (soft) Yeah.  ...I’m sorry.  Um, is there anything that I could, like, maybe...do for you?

They get interrupted immediately after this, so this was the first impression Melanie was given.  Then, when Elias offers the job, she...assumes Martin’s “I don’t think that’s a good idea” is from sexism, when he’d just been talking about murders and disappearances that caused that very job opening.

TMA 88 

Melanie:   Are you alright?

Martin:  Yeah… Sorry, just a lot of change recently, y’know.  You and John and Sasha and… everything’s gone a bit wrong.  It’s the not knowing, you know?  I mean, Jon’s still alive.  Not sure why, but I’m sure of that.  But Sasha, I…

Melanie:   Yes, it’s… it’s probably, um…

Martin:   Sorry, sorry, I’m...  What do you need?

Next interaction!  Oh this one HURTS.  Martin takes her question literally, and starts telling her why she’s not alright, a reverse of their earlier exchange.  But Melanie came by for a question and wasn’t prepared for an honest answer, so Martin quickly reels it in and asks what he can do for her once again.

Skipping forward a bit in that same scene:

Martin:   Oh, you weren’t here when we took the place over from Gertrude!  It’s been over a year just to get it like this.  I mean, I think the database was on Jon’s list, but--

Melanie:  So how do you track someone down?

Martin:   Oh, oh well, y’know, we’ve a few contacts in various record offices around the place.  Aside from that it’s just… just a bit of detective work, really.  Tim used to do a great line in impersonating people to utility companies!  Heh, the number of times he got them to give him ‘his own’ address--

Melanie:  Right, right… Um, this one, the name is 'Jude Perry.’ Doesn’t mean anything to you, does it?

I LOVE THIS EXCHANGE.  I TREASURE IT.  Having bottled up his emotions, Martin is going in full Friendly Helpful Coworker mode.  There are so many little details here signaling that he’s embracing her as part of the team, sharing anecdotes about Tim’s shenanigans and Jon’s old plans, looping her in as One of Them as he helps her get what she needs.  This is the kind of approach you go to management trainings to get, to help new hires feel welcome and part of things.  But alas, Melanie is in a hurry and wants to cut to the chase, so all this is lost on her.

TMA 98 - I won’t copy it all in here because it’s long, but this is an overwhelmingly positive interaction.  She asks if he’s okay, but he bottles it up and says he’s fine.  This time, she presses, and he admits it’s because of the statements.  Martin ends up asking for help!! and Melanie agrees!  She’s on the way to murder Elias, but she still gets credit for “I’ll ask him to cut you some slack.”  Then she invites him to drinks!

And then.... TMA 106

Melanie:   Anyway, Martin’s always been lovely to you.

Basira:  Hmm. I don’t know, I mean, you should have seen him when I turned up last year. I think he thought I was trying to steal his precious Archivist.

Melanie:   Ahhh. I got the exact same when Jon was hiding out, and came to me with his “source on the inside” stuff.  Martin was not impressed.

WAIT WHAT

We just looked over all their interactions!  They were all soft and lovely and welcoming!!  But then we hear Melanie with “well unlike how he is to me, Martin is nice to you.”  This was taken at face value for years, but when you line up all of the above, I feel there is a strong basis to say this is another case of Melanie’s first impressions + over-defensiveness gone wrong.  Just like we saw her initial bickerings with Jon solidify into series-long hostility, her interpreting Martin’s confusion as gaslighting and warnings about the job as sexism seems to have doomed her opinion of him long-term.  We hear Martin being kind and concerned and welcoming, then hear Melanie contrast it as bad treatment.

Recently, a mutual considered this even further to how she talked about losing all of her friends with the Ghost Hunt UK circles:

Melanie:  Even back then, I could feel all my old friends starting to distance themselves from me. ...  I stopped asking the others for help, and I kept my research to myself. I talked to them less and less. By the time I was arrested, I think a lot of them had already given up on me.

I have to wonder...did this sort of dynamic play out here, too?  Did she assume that her friends’ concern was judgment or hostility?  Were they giving up on her, or did she lash out and push them away?  Either way, it’s easy to see parallels to s2 Jon in her description, here, with her withdrawing and diving alone into increasingly risky research without asking for help.  And s2 Jon definitely shared Melanie’s tendency to see offers for help and support as hostile.  (Aside:  I interpret her and Georgie as not very close at this point, like a networking contact rather than a friend; Melanie comes to Jon for someone to talk to about her struggles above her, and Georgie seems to be unaware of all of Melanie’s encounters pre-s3)

And on that downer note I am ending part 1...but PART 2 IS GOING TO BE WAY HAPPIER THAN THIS.  Here, we see Melanie with a lot of people who would have supported her if she let them:  Martin, Jon, possibly the friends she said abandoned her.  But in her effort to protect herself and not let history repeat for how she’d been hurt in the past, she ends up alone and spiraling.

[mitsukui]

late night experiences | g.w.

Pairing: George Weasley x female reader.

Summary:  learning new things is always better when it is done with someone else.

Word Count: 2,7k.

Warnings: smut! Masturbation, mentions of innocence kink.

Disclaimer: none of the pictures used in the edit below belong to me; I simply put them together.

A/N: please, leave me some feedback if you feel like it! My askbox is open for your opinions, thoughts and requests. Thank you so much for your time and attention ❤

Masterlist!

Your last year at Hogwarts rushed into your life without warning — and so did your sexual hormones. You swore to Merlin you could feel them tingling all over your body whenever you solely looked at George Weasley, your majestic boyfriend. And apparently, he felt the same way towards you. Wondering the reason behind it all, you were quick to blame the fact that the two of you had just turned 18.

You had been together for a little while now: around nine months or so. But nothing had ever happened, and you were not quite sure why. You two had, supposedly, everything needed: steamy make-out sessions, wandering hands, lustful thoughts, privacy, and all that jazz. Yet, there you were: ground zero.

However, things were about to change even though you still were unconscious about it.

“Psst!” Your favorite quill stopped scribbling your Herbology notes. “Oi!” Your eyes gazed at the direction from which came the voice only to realize it was one of your classmates, Angelina Johnson. “I’ve discovered something last night which I thought you might be interested in.” A mischievous smirk painted her lips as you leaned in closer, already feeling eager to listen to whatever she had to say. She was one of those people who made anyone pay attention to them whenever they said something.

Her hushed whispers filled the existing silence between you two in the Study Area once more. “The boys were talking in our common room last night, and rumor has it George can’t keep his hands off of his cock whenever he thinks of you.”

Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet giggled like little girls when she finally finished her speech. You could feel your cheeks getting embraced by a deep and violent warmness. Uh-oh.

Your mind suddenly produced images by itself: George’s chest going up and down quickly as he moaned under his breath. He had his long and slender fingers wrapped around his dick and, sweet Merlin, he was big. Big and thick and veiny. His eyelashes fluttered as his hand pumped up and down a few times, precum leaking from his tip.

Heaven probably looked like that. What a lovely sight. You would give anything to actually see the great George Weasley in such a position. But, again: ground zero.

Still, the possibility of him pleasuring himself at the thought of you seemed to awake something new inside your chest and offer you a novel tingling sensation. You felt a burning flame in your loins, and it was almost as if your entire body were on fire.

You wanted him to jerk off thinking of you. You wanted his hands to get dirty from his own seed because of you.

You gulped. Snapping fingers brought you back to reality. “Girl, it’s high time you gave that poor lad some love, you know.”

The next few days felt slow and eternal. George Weasley and George Weasley’s thick dick were the only things occupying your mind. Of course, you had fantasized about him before; but it had never been that vivid. Things are always better when they are real, after all.

And you wanted to do something about it. Your soul ached for him to share his hidden and erotic reality with you. Your flesh longed to be painfully close to his. Your body and your hands desired to tease him and give him something to be unbearably hard over. You obviously would not feel in peace until you got what you wanted.

That is why the suggestion of a late night meeting in the Prefect’s Bathroom came to life. It was discussed during another of your studying session with Angelina, Alicia and Katie, being first brought on by Angelina, of course. That girl had many wild cards up her sleeve.

“I happen to know the password. Got it from a Slytherin guy, after giving him a few galleons.”

“And a blowjob, too.” Alicia responded with her eyebrows raised and a mischievous grin hanging on her lips.

As the three other girls laughed carelessly, seeming to be extremely relaxed and confident to talk about such a topic, you chewed on your bottom lip. Jittery feelings bubbled up within your veins while concern clouded your mind. You had a severe lack of inexperience when it came down to anything sexual.

Your temporary anxiety was sharply noticed by Katie, who positioned her hand over yours in a comforting act. Her fingers soothed your skin, her next words slipping out of her lips as motherly advice.

“Don’t feel pressured to do anything, honestly. George is one of the most understanding people I have ever met. But I think a little bit of intimacy would work wonders on you, both of you.” Her grip on your hand became a bit tighter, and her warmth was incredibly pacifying. “You know, just suggest going to the Prefect’s Bathroom tomorrow night. He will surely accept, once he is heads over heels for you. Get in the warm, bubbly water. Kiss him, if you feel comfortable enough for that. And just see where it goes.”

Your other two friends nodded, assuring you everything was alright and that you could always count on them for support and advice. The conversation went on for a little longer, they sharing intimacy tips and encouraging you.

Luckily enough, the next morning was one that you had classes with George. You brought on the subject in the end of the lesson, while he gathered his material quietly.

His lips opened up in a bright smile in the moment you appeared in front of him, but his expression was soon destroyed by your visible tensed posture.

“Hey, gorgeous. Are you alright?”

You sighed shortly, trying to relieve some of your internalized insecurities. The suggestion came out of your lips in a mere murmur, but he was smart enough to grasp onto all of your words. His eyes noticed your dodging gaze and your fidgeting fingers, playing with the hem of your tie. You looked absolutely adorable to him.

“See you later tonight, then. Prefect’s Bathroom, 12AM sharp. I won’t be late.”

The rest of the day felt like an eternity. Perhaps, it was the uncertainty of it all, given that there was no way to predict how the scenario would take place later on. But the time for your meeting agonizingly came, and you were forced to leave your dormitory.

The weather was unpleasantly hot, and it was hard for you to tell whether it was due to the time of the year you were going through, or to the fact you were walking towards your own doom.

You had been curious and tempted to get to know his darker and more lustful façade but, at the same time, you were ashamed of how much you craved him despite being your first time feeling anything like that. Those same novel tingles from before returned to your loins as your made your way to the fifth floor.

Underneath your favorite carmine red pleated skirt and a muggle band T-shirt, you wore a set of lingerie that had not received much attention when previously picked out, which was a simple white bra paired with white panties, covered in tiny pink strawberries. When you were about to reach your destination, you came down to the realization of how childish your underwear looked. You inhaled sharply, concluding you had ruined everything.

Eventually, you and George met, and entered the bathroom hand in hand.

Although you had heard of its wonderful interiors, seeing everything with your own eyes for the first time made you gasp. Your gaze traveled through the place, and you wished to engrave every detail in your heart. The white marble grandness awoke a sense of greatness and admiration inside you, and you almost fell to your knees right then and there.

A tad of small talk was exchanged between you and your boyfriend, until he approached you at last. His big hands cupped your delicate face, and he leaned down to kiss you.

His lips were so terribly gentle that they sent butterflies to your stomach. He showed no shyness in the second his hands roamed down your body and found your back, giving your ass a light squeeze. Unable to control yourself, you moaned and pressed your body against his.

A steamy make out moment was held between the two of you until the moment for the truth hovered over your heads. He rested his forehead against yours, and looked at you with loving eyes as his thumb ran over your lips.

“Tell me why we are here, darling.”

“It’s just that…There had been this rumor, you know?” A shy chuckle escaped your lips, and you closed your eyes, trying to block out all the filthy images suddenly appearing in your mind. “People have been saying that you jerk off thinking about me. But I’m not sure if it’s true or not, because we have –“

“It is true.” The coolness in his voice caught you off guard, and you blinked at him in a mixture of shock and self-induced accomplishment: your boyfriend touched himself at the thought of you.

Your eyelashes fluttered until your eyes were shut, and a sigh escaped your lips. Your mind knew no restrains at that moment, and the images you had been blocking out came to life all at once, violently crashing against your insides, almost like agitated waves at a beach.

Silence embraced the two of you again, but neither of you felt bothered by it. You took your time to let the sinful images sink in, and he took his time to study your face. You had been clearly affected by the truth he had just spilled out, and he secretly enjoyed such thing. He could read you like the palm of his hand, and he knew you were thinking about him with his dick out.

As he breathed heavily, fearing air would forever leave his lungs after what he was about to do, he prepared himself for what was about to come. His thumb ran over your slightly swollen lips but, this time, he parted them with a gentle tug on your lower lip. George timidly shoved his thumb into your mouth, and you, with your eyes still closed, took all of it.

Your tongue swirl against his finger, the feeling of your saliva dancing against his skin sending electrical waves down his spine. You continued on sucking him until your cheeks finally hollowed, and he pulled his finger out with a low ‘pop’ noise.

You opened your eyes in a deep frustration, but he could no longer take it. His cock was hard inside his trousers and it battled for its freedom. He breathed unsteadily and with a bit of difficulty, his mind starting to wonder how your lips would feel wrapped around his tip.

The realization that you two had never done anything before hit him hard, and he felt himself twitching while precum started wetting the fabric of his underwear.

Would it be selfish of him to think he would probably be the first one ever to taste your cunt? The first one to penetrate you, the first one to end your innocence for eternity, the first one to feel your walls clenching around him, the first one to make you cum.

George was forced to step back and groan in bitterness. He really wanted to fuck you, but he would never disrespect you or your limits. Plus, on top of that, he really did not know how he could express his urges.

“S-Sorry, darling. I-I-I don’t know what’d gotten into me, I guess I just lo-“

“Can you show me how you touch yourself?”

The question hung on air for one or two moments. You could not believe what you had just said. You were drunk on a new dizzying and exciting sensation, one that left your panties secretly wet and your clit throbbing, and one which made you ask your boyfriend to masturbate right in front of you.

So he did it. Apparently, Katie was right: George Weasley would gladly accept anything you asked him.

After the enormous bathtub had been filled with water and bubbles, he undressed and you lost all of your senses for a bit.

His fair skin carried grand amounts of both freckles and small scars. His entire silhouette was outlined by groups of yet developing muscles, but each one of them caused more wetness to pool in your strawberries ridiculously covered panties. George was so tall, his shoulders were so broad, and his dick was indeed so big.

When all of his being finally became bare in front of you, you rubbed your thighs together, the need for friction creeping inside your body for the first time ever.

You stood still exactly where you were, but he made his way to the tub, sitting on the edge of the white porcelain. He lowered his dark eyes to his throbbing member and his touch caused a relieved sigh to leave his lips. His hand moved up and down a few times until he looked at you again.

There was something different on his face. His eyelids seemed to be a tad heavier, and the sounds slipping out of his slightly parted lips were the most delicious thing you had ever heard.

George Weasley was jerking off right in front of you. He was moaning only for you. And you hoped he would cum just for you, too.

As the minutes slowly went by the two of you, you watched him quietly. However, it was impossible for him to keep quiet. By now, his moans were loud and shameless. He whispered your name every now and then, the thought of you bouncing up and down his dick providing all the fuel he needed to orgasm only for you.

That was entirely new for you. You felt so dirty, so sinful, so misbehaved, but you were living for it. You wanted more of him, and you also wanted to give George more of you. And that was exactly the reason why you said your next sentence out loud.

“Can I touch myself?”

His ears convinced himself that he had heard it incorrectly, but the way your fingers tugged on your T-shirt, and your thighs rubbed together, he knew he was not mistaken. A new rush of pleasure ran through his veins and he pumped his hand faster. Unable to form coherent sentences, he mumbled something along the lines of ‘please’ and nodded vehemently.

In the blink of an eye, both of your bodies were unclothed and both of you played with your intimacies. George’s right hand applied all the pressure that could possibly resemble your tight cunt wrapped around his cock, and your fingers helped the squelching sounds coming from your wetness to echo in the bathroom. You had never thought that so many lustful sensations could occupy your body all at once and, yet, there you were: masturbating at the sight of your boyfriend doing the exact same.

By now, you also had problems breathing and the tight knot inside your body screamed for a break. You pulled your hand away from your dripping cunt, but you remained connect to your womanhood by a very thin and almost invisible string of your juices.

George obviously noticed that tiny detail and it was too much for him. He announced he was close and, soon enough, his skin was stained by the pleasure you had given him. His eyes were closed as he felt his heartbeat increasing and the images of you still haunting his mind.

The way he accepted and let his orgasm work on his body made you move your hand against your clit faster and you followed him in a matter of seconds. Your body trembled and you could not stop whining.

You had never experienced something so astonishingly sensational.

Your pants filled the bathroom for a little while before his body finally slipped into the still warm water. The comfort offered by the setting relaxed his existence and he weakly called and asked you to join him, which you happily agreed with.

He touched your hips and pulled you closer, placing your body against his chest. With his lips pressed against your temple, he whispered a series of ‘thank you’ and ‘you are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen’.

However, his final words changed the mood completely and you hated him for it.

“That’s a nice pair of panties, by the way.”

Tag list! ❤️  @efyra​ @writingsomewrongs​ @kellsslut​ @pineapplesandpinas​ @fiction-is-the-new-reality​ @hufflepuff5972​ @amourtentiaa​ @emmaev​ @asthmax​ @anchoeritic​ @eunoia-kth​

[ibijau]

Oh, here's a prompt! Nie Huaisang travels back in time to ensure that Jin Guangyao stays away from the Jin sect. When he gets back, he's disturbed to find that not only is Meng Yao now his stepbrother (or has at least become a very respected disciple of the Nie sect), but is also now engaged to Lan Xichen. Cue screaming and/or fainting. But at least Minjue is still alive, right?

It was surprisingly easy to make it all happen, much to Nie Huaisang's surprise. In stories time travel was always so complicated to orchestrate, with so much to plan for... but Nie Huaisang had just done it, and it seemed to be working well.

His first stop had been to Meng Shi, shortly after the birth of her son. He could have gone back further and prevented her from ever having that son, but... but at the end of the day, he'd been impossibly fond of Meng Yao even if he'd grown to hate Jin Guangyao. The solution, then, had been to visit his mother and make sure she didn't fill her son's head with impossible dreams.

It had taken some money to get Meng Shi out of the brothel for a few days, and she'd been quite suspicious of him at first. But Nie Huaisang had been a gentleman, and she'd warmed up to him a little. She'd even given up on trying to seduce him once he'd explained that while not opposed to feminine charms on occasion, he mostly cut his sleeve. She'd acted quite sorry for him when he'd explained that actually, he'd just gotten out of a long relationship that had ended badly due to some trust issues and a the betrayal of a man they'd believed to be their friend. Meng Shi had shared a few stories as well, some her own, most her colleagues'.

By the time they'd arrived in Lanling, Nie Huaisang had become quite attached to Meng Shi, and decided he might change his plans a little, depending on what would happen in the next few days.

Meng Shi was not happy to meet other women who'd had the dubious pleasure of sharing Jin Guansghan's bed. She was even less happy to talk to them and learn that none of them, not a single one, had ever received money or attention again after he'd left them, not even those who'd had a child. One of them, the servant of a powerful family of merchants, had gone begging at the door of the Jin sect when her three years old daughter had fallen sick with something nobody understood. She'd been sent home under threats of a beating if she ever showed up again, and her daughter had died.

That had been nearly four years earlier. Jin Guangshan hadn't been sect leader yet, but he'd been his father's favourite and most spoiled son, so he would have had the power to do anything he pleased, including sending a doctor to his daughter, or having her brought into Jinlin Tai to make sure no dark spirit was attacking her. He wasn't even engaged to his wife at the time, so it was impossible to use her to excuse his lack of care. And he'd known about the child's sickness, because he'd happened to be passing by when the mother came begging for help. It was he who had ordered she be sent away, annoyed by her crying.

Meng Shi had gone paler and paler as that poor woman told her tale of sorrow, clutching her son tighter against her chest. When Nie Huaisang and her had returned to their inn, she had asked him why he'd wanted her to meet those other women.

“I just don't like what he's doing,” Nie Huaisang replied, a little embarrassed that he hadn't thought she might get curious. It was stupid of him. Meng Yao surely couldn't have gotten his brains from his father after all.

Meng Shi, sitting on her bed, rocked her infant son in her arms in silence for a moment.

“They were all weak,” she said after a while.

“Who?”

“Those other women. They were all weak.”

Nie Huaisang tensed, fearing that she might announce she was cut of another cloth, that she would persevere where they had given up, but Meng Shi only sighed and kissed her son's forehead.

“He picked them so they were young and would have no one to turn to. Servants and prostitutes and unwanted daughters... he picked us so we'd have no one to turn to when he'd abandon us, no one to defend our honour and force him to pay for the children he made us have. Women like us, it's our own fault for getting pregnant in the first place, isn't it?”

Nie Huaisang stared at her, and realised she was right. He'd been so busy collecting names, he hadn't paused to wonder if there had been a pattern to Jin Guangshan's actions.

“Are there any more you want me to meet?” Meng Shi asked.

“No, she was the last one.”

“Then I suppose we'll started heading back to Yunping City tomorrow. I'll have to make new plans for...”

“No, we're not going back,” Nie Huaisang announced, startling her. “It's too unfair if you go back, you deserve better. Both of you deserve better!”

She blinked a few times, and gave him an amused smile, still rocking her baby. She didn't believe him, of course. Nie Huaisang could hardly blame her for that. After her last experience with a cultivator...

But Meng Shi really did deserve better. Nevermind that in a future he hoped to have now prevented, he'd desecrated her body to get back at her son, this was a different thing. Meng Shi was not a bad person. He'd once thought her guilty of ambition at least, but after a couple weeks in her company, he realised she'd just been desperate for a chance to escape her lot in life. He couldn't really hate her for that, even if it had led to such tragedies after her death.

Nie Huaisang liked her now that he'd met her, and he couldn't condemn her and her son to a worse fate than what they'd have known without him.

He needed a plan.

He needed a smart plan.

He had a plan.

“So, I might have lied a little, you're going back to the brothel,” Nie Huaisang said, earning an unimpressed smirk. “But not for long! I'm going to try something but... would you be willing to lie about who sired your son?”

“Why not? At this point, the truth won't get me much.”

“Perfect. Then I'm going to warn my sect that I have fathered a child, and that I'm unable to care for it at the moment. I'll have to write to them but... but I know Nie zongzhu will immediately send for you. He'll probably ask after me, he hasn't seen me in nearly a decade, but I know he won't have forgotten his cousin Nie Xingyu, and he'll do what's right for my son and his mother.”

And there was no risk of the real Nie Xingyu ever returning to ruin that story, Nie Huaisang knew. His father's beloved cousin, who'd become a rogue cultivator after an argument with their grandfather, had actually died a year or two before Nie Mingjue was even born. A Night Hunt accident, one which Nie Huaisang had discovered by chance while investigating some of Jin Guangyao's crimes. But he remembered his father always hoped to see Nie Xingyu return, always speaking so highly of that cousin who had been almost a brother to him.

Nie Huaisang's father would be delighted to meet his cousin's son, and if “Nie Xingyu” asked for it he would buy Meng Shi's contract in a heartbeat. It would only be a matter of convincing sect leader Nie then, and Nie Huaisang wasn't worried about that. His father had kept all the letters his cousin used to send and read them to his sons, so Nie Huaisang was confident he could imitate his prose and handwriting, not to mention he too carried the Nie seal to mark that letter.

At worst, if it didn't work, Nie Huaisang could always find the money somewhere to buy that contract in person and try to find somewhere to leave Meng Shi, but he'd rather know that she and Meng Yao were safe and sound in the Unclean Realm.

Meng Shi, of course, looked unimpressed by his plan. She still thought he was lying, or trying to sell wonders like other men before him so they could share her bed for a reduced fee, or demand more of her than they'd paid for. Nie Huaisang didn't mind. If people's opinions of him mattered, he would have chosen a different way to avenge his brother, wouldn't he?

-

It took nearly a month after Nie Huaisang had brought Meng Shi back to her brother, but one morning, from the room he'd rented across the street, he saw a small group of Nie cultivators go in. His father was among them, and when they excited the building, he was carrying little Meng Yao in his arms and chatting cheerfully with Meng Shi who seemed shocked at this turn of events.

Unseen by her Nie Huaisang smiled, and went to activate the talisman that would take him back to his own time. Hopefully this would have been enough to save Nie Mingjue. And if it hadn't... well, he knew how to travel to the past now.

-

Nie Huaisang opened his eyes. He was in his room, and yet not. This was what used to be his room when he was young, before he became sect leader. A little smaller, a little more private, with a view on a small private garden where he kept his favourite birds. Hisroom, the one he'd always preferred, and had only abandoned in a desperate attempt to be the leader he'd thought his people would need. If he still lived in this room, then it meant Nie Huaisang wasn't sect leader.

Delighted by this apparent victory, Nie Huaisang sprung to his feet and rushed out of the room, only to run head first into someone.

He'd ran into that person enough times that he knew them instantly, even before seeing their face.

“Well someone is in a hurry,” Nie Mingjue said with a laugh.

A laugh.

Nie Mingjue was laughing. Nie Huaisang couldn't even remember the last time he'd heard his brother laugh like this. Not since the Sunshot Campaign, he thought.

“Your cousins haven't arrived yet,” said someone standing just a step behind Nie Mingjue, her voice also full of laughter. “You didn't oversleep, don't worry.”

It took all of Nie Huaisang's willpower to look away from his brother (Nie Mingjue, happy, laughing, healthy) but he managed it, because that other voice was a little too familiar.

It was odd to find Meng Shi in her fifties when just a few hours ago, Nie Huaisang had seen her in her early twenties. Her hair had turned grey, there were wrinkles on her face, and she had exchanged the bold colours she used to wear at the brothel for the muted tones the Nie sect favoured. It suited her. Growing old suited her, if only because she would never have had the chance, had Nie Huaisang not changed her fate.

“I think he's not quite awake yet,” Nie Mingjue teased when Nie Huaisang stared too long, poking his little brother in the shoulder. “But at least I don't have to drag him out of bed. Can I leave the rest to you, auntie?”

Meng Shi smiled, and assured him she'd make sure Nie Huaisang was ready for his cousins' arrival. Nie Mingjue thanked her and left. Nie Huaisang almost ran after him, suddenly needing to touch him, to hug him, to make sure this was real, that he had truly...

“Now it's finally you,” Meng Shi noted, earning a curious glance. “I've realised a few years ago that you looked oddly similar to the man who helped me. Too similar to simply count it as family resemblance. But until today, you didn't look quite right either.”

When Nie Huaisang could only blink at her, she laughed.

“I thought so. I've been wondering for years, but... you did something to change what was meant to happen, didn't you?”

“I did. I wanted... I needed to save certain people.”

“Your brother,” Meng Shi guessed.

Nie Huaisang nodded.

“And my son?”

He nodded again. “Where is he? Is he well? He learned cultivation, right?”

Meng Shi smiled proudly. “He's one of the best in his generation, people keep telling me. He's married now, and living with his husband, but they come visit often. They wanted me to come live with them in the Cloud Recesses, but it's too cold for me over there, and I like the friends I've made here in Qinghe, so I... is something wrong?”

Nie Huaisang nodded, then shook his head. “His husband?”

“A-Yao is married to Lan zongzhu,” she explained. “I would have preferred if he'd married a woman, but Lan zongzhu is a very good husband to him, and they always seem so very happy when they're together. It's all a mother can truly wish for, isn't it? To see her child settled and happy.”

Nie Huaisang said nothing.

He did not run back into his room, didn't hurriedly prepare some ink so he could draw another time travelling talisman and set things right. It was tempting, so tempting. But Nie Huaisang resisted that temptation, and forced himself to smile.

“I'm so happy for them,” he mumbled after a while, and hoped he would learn to mean it.

[ratofthemedievalsewers]

Heart of Steel - Part I

DBH Connor x Male Reader

Word Count: 2.5K+

Content warning: Minor injury detail, PTSD, language

Original game dialogue I got from this video:

https://youtu.be/32Np9LKI1Vg

We were attacked in the night.

After returning from a mission back to an outpost several miles from the red zone, we removed our gear save for a few pouches on our belts we could bother with later. Our team leader set up a fire while the SQ800s, CyberLife commissioned combat androids, began loading up the trucks with extra artillery and resources. A job that could have waited until morning, but Alpha always gave the androids something to do. He said that they creeped him out when they would just stand there in a dormant state, waiting for their next mission to be given to them.

"You know what I'm going to do when I get home?"

"Here we go again."

"I'm going to get me a WR400," Foxtrot; not everyone's favourite but he certainly kept us entertained when there was nothing to do.

"Uh-huh and with what money are you going to be using to pay for this WR400? A military salary definitely ain't gonna cut it." Echo always called out Foxtrot's bullshit, he was the only one that had the patience to deal with him.

"Fine, my birthday is comin' up, if you put towards two-thirds of what it costs we can share. How does that sound?"

"I am not sharing anything with you, I don't know what diseases you carry." Their constant back forth sent chuckles through the group.

"Alright, that's enough you two. It's getting late and past everyone's bedtime, I want you all awake by O-five-hundred at the latest," Alpha would often stop them before Foxtrot would take it too far, but he could never hide the twitching smile on his face.

"Yes sir," Foxtrot mock saluted as he stood from his seat around the campfire. "Hey Echo, that offer is still-"

One moment Foxtrot had a wide grin on his face, the next there was a hole in his head between his eyes, the sound of gunshot ringing in everyone's ears.

"SHOTS FIRED! GET TO COVER NOW!"

"FOXTROT IS DOWN! I REPEAT, FOXTROT IS DOWN!"

It was dark, we couldn't see where they were firing from. The android was the only one still standing, firing off in random directions as they were gunned down. The next was Delta, shot in the left shoulder, then the throat. My gun was back in my tent and there was no chance of me getting it. Stupid.

"MEDIC! GET TO DELTA! NOW!"

"GRENADE!"

I heard the thump by my feet before I saw it. You would think it would be terrifying, to know you're staring death in the face, but for a second it was peaceful. My body was cold and I already felt like a corpse, the Rigour Mortis freezing me in place, just softly gazing at what would kill me.

Something grabbed me before the grenade exploded, saving my life but destroying the android.

The bedsheets were crumpled and soaked in sweat again when my eyes shot open. It was hard to breathe, the panic was still running through me and closing up my throat at the memory.

In; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four. Out; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four.

It took a few minutes for me to remember where I was. That I was home and that I was safe. Out of nervous habit, I gripped my dog tags, they were wet from the sweat that had soaked through my shirt in the night.

"Shit." It was four in the morning, there was no chance of getting any more sleep and the station wouldn't be open for another two more hours at the least. Saying that; Fowler wanted to speak to me first thing, which never meant anything good for anyone.

It was aching again at the joint. The biomechanical component always felt itchy where it joined at the elbow. Anytime I would have that dream I would scratch at it in my sleep, it was like my subconscious knew it didn't belong. It knew my rotting left arm was still in the desert somewhere being picked apart by vultures.

It's almost ironic; to be saved by an android and then to have part of one attached to me. I hated it.

*****

"Morning Cyborg, you look like shit." Gavin was forever pleasant to talk to.

"Fuck off, Reed." He constantly hovered around the coffee machine, hogging it like it was his newborn baby. "Is Fowler in yet?"

"Not yet, you in trouble?" He took his time making his coffee, exceeding in being the department's resident asshat. "Did he catch you looking at porn on your work terminal again?"

"I'm pretty sure that's only ever happened to you." Not wanting to be reminded of his previous escapades I got no response. Gavin let out a small huff before moving to the side with his fresh cup of coffee, freeing up the machine.

"Officer (L/N)." Oh for fuck's sake.

"Sir?" Captain Fowler stood outside his office, his coat half soaked from the rain.

"My office, I need to speak to you." He didn't give a second glance to me before turning and letting the glass door shut behind him.

"Ha, good luck cyborg." Shooting Gavin the middle finger, I followed Captian Fowler into his office.

"What was it you wished to talk about, sir?" Feet shoulder-width apart, back straight and hands behind my back; habits from the army were destined to die hard. Often I would find myself moving my hand up to salute before leaving the presence of a superior, something else for Gavin to make fun of.

"You're aware of the deviant cases I've assigned to Lieutenant Anderson, correct?" Fowler sat at his desk, wet coat now hung on its rack, but there was slight dampness to his suit blazer where his coat had been left open.

"Yes sir. I believe he's being accompanied by a prototype RK800 from Cyberlife."

"That's correct. I'm sure you're aware that these deviancy cases are on the more..."

"Dangerous?"

"...Unpredictable side. Now, I can't exactly issue a gun to a prototype android if it's going to be in the field and, while I value Hank as a police officer, his record is on the rougher side."

"Captain Fowler, with all due respect, I don't believe-"

"Office (L/N), with all due respect, you don't have an opinion in this matter. I want you to accompany Lieutenant Anderson in these assignments just in case a deviant becomes too much for him or this android to handle. You've certainly got the skillset for it and you're not unfamiliar with working alongside androids, unlike quite a few officers in this department."

"I understand that, but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say I don't want to hear it." Captain Fowler didn't give me a chance to argue as he stood and walked to his office door, the annoyed look on his face worsening. "Hank, in my office!"

I let out a sigh before Captain Fowler turned back to his desk. Through the office wall made of glass Hank reluctantly made his way towards us grumbling something under his breath at the request, the RK800 model obediently following behind him like a little, lost puppy. Hank sat in the chair opposite Fowler while the android stood next to me, giving a small smile as a greeting.

Captain Fowler was the first to talk, "I've got ten new cases involving androids on my desk every day. We've always had isolated incidents, old ladies losing their android maids and that kind of crap... But now, we're getting reports of assaults and even homicides, like that guy last night. This isn't just cyberlife's problem anymore, it's now a criminal investigation and we've gotta deal with it before the shit hits the fan. I want you to investigate these cases, alongside officer (L/N) and see if there's any link."

"Why me? And why do I need a god damned partner? A stupid android is already too much. Why do I gotta be the one to deal with this shit?" Props to Hank for trying, but arguing with Fowler was like talking to a brick wall. "I am the least qualified cop in the country to handle this case! I know jack shit about androids, Jeffery. I can barely change the settings on my own phone."

"Everybody's overloaded. I think you're perfectly qualified for this type of investigation," They were already starting to blow up at each other.

"Bullshit! The truth is nobody wants to investigate these fuckin' androids and you left me holdin' the bag!"

"CyberLife sent over this android to help with this investigation and I've given you (L/N) as well. You've got a state of the art prototype and a leading police officer to act as your partners."

"No fuckin' way! I don't need partners, and certainly not this plastic prick and some action hero fucker."

"Nice working with you too, Lieutenant Anderson," I said under my breath, not intending for the others to hear. Connor turned his head slightly in my direction, I could see his LED blink yellow for a moment before going back to its bright blue.

"Hank, you are seriously starting to piss me off! You are a police lieutenant, you are supposed to do what I say and shut your goddamn mouth!"

"You know what my goddamn mouth has to say to you, huh?"

"I'll pretend like I didn't hear that, so I don't have to add any more pages to your disciplinary folder 'cause it already looks like a fuckin' novel! This conversation is over."

"Jeffrey, Jesus Christ! Why are you doin' this to me? You know how much I hate these fuckin' things. Why are you doin' this to me?" Most of the department knew why he had such a distaste towards androids, no one could necessarily blame him. Ever since losing his son Hank had become completely different as both a person and an officer. Admittedly, Fowler was harsh on him, but if he wasn't then Hank would drift.

"I've had just enough of your bitching. Either you do your job or you hand in your badge. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." Hank left in a strop, letting out his frustration on Fowler's office door.

"Well then..." Connor was quick to break the tense silence. His voice caught me off guard, it was smoother, more human than any android's I had heard before. The SQ800's voices had always been more robotic than other models so it had been a shock when the androids back home had sounded so normal, it felt like that all over again. It was jarring. "I won't keep you any longer. Have a nice day captain."

Connor left and I followed behind, giving a small nod of dismissal to Fowler despite him still looking at his terminal screen.

The android went straight to Hank either oblivious or ignoring the lieutenant's current bad mood, granted there was never a time the bastard was in a good mood. Heaven itself could rain down on Detroit and he'd huff at it like a hair in his food.

"I got the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant. I'd like you to know I'm very sorry about that. In any case, I'd like you to know I'm very to be working with you." Ever the enthusiast.

"I'd give in now. You're talking to a toddler in a fifty-year old's body and the toddler is having a hissy fit." I half sat and half leant against Hank's desk, using my arms to support my weight.

"Apologies, I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Connor, I am the android sent by CyberLife." He turned to me, a gentle and manufactured smile on his face. "It's a pleasure to be working with you too, officer (L/N). I'm sure we'll make a great team."

"Er... (Y/N) is just fine."

"Is there a desk anywhere I could use?"

"No one's using that one." Hank points to the desk opposite him, while still sulking like a child.

"Gasp, it speaks," I said in a sarcastic tone while turning to Hank.

"Fuck off. I've already got an android on my ass, I don't need you on it too."

I grabbed a terminal pad before perching myself back at the edge of Hank's desk while Connor got comfortable at the empty one. The light at the side of his head flashing yellow for a moment like he was hesitant to speak."You have a dog, right?"

"How do you know that?"

"The dog hairs on your chair. I like dogs. What's your dog's name?"

"What's it to you?" Hank shifted in his seat, "...Sumo... I call him Sumo."

"Under all those shitty shirts and questionable stains there's a warm, beating heart," I say more to myself than the other two, skimming over the recent case files sent in by Fowler.

"Officer (L/N)... (Y/N), knowing that we'd be working together I read your academy and field records. You have quite an interesting background."

"Oh yeah, then you understand that I may be a little driven to get these cases over with. I can't say I'm a fan of you terminators."

"I understand you have a... warped view of androids due to what you've experienced, but I hope you understand that I am your partner and not your enemy."

"Connor, you're not my partner, you're cyberlife's latest gizmo for us kick around." I sigh, turning to sit at my desk adjacent to hanks, taking the terminal pad with me. "Just look through the deviant case files. Terminals on your desk, knock yourself out."

They're nothing but machines. They are not your friends.

"Two-hundred and forty-three files, the first date back nine months. It all started in Detroit... And quickly spread across the country." Connor had only connected the terminal moments before.

"Don't work your CPU too hard," I mutter under my breath, catching a quick huff of amusement from Hank.

"An AX400 is reported to have murdered a man last night. That could be a good starting point for our investigation." Hank was doing his best to pretend Connor didn't exist, but the android was persistent. Connor stood from his chair and made his way into Hank's personal space.

"Uh, Jesus..." Hank turned his chair away.

"I understand you're facing personal issues, Lieutenant, but you need to move past them and-" For an android, Connor has some balls on him.

"Hey! Don't talk to me like you know me. I'm not your friend and I don't need your advice, okay?" Hank's mood had soured like milk, it wouldn't be long until Fowler was adding another page to Hank's disciplinary folder.

"I've been assigned this mission Lieutenant, I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working."

"Connor, you're just gonna-" I had wasted my breath, Hank had already stood and was grabbing onto Connor by the collar of his Cyberlife jacket and slamming against the screen next to his desk. "Hank!"

"Listen asshole. If it were up to me, I'd rather throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it. So, stop pissing me off... or things are gonna get nasty."

"Hank," I placed a hand on his shoulder to try and lightly pull him away from Connor but only earned a nasty side-eye. "Leave off him, you don't get paid enough to replace him."

"Lieutenant... Officer (L/N), uh... sorry to disturb you," Looks like the tin can was saved before Hank could knock the light out of him, "I have some information on the AX400 that killed that guy last night. It's been sighted in the Ravendale district."

"I'm on it." Hank didn't glance back when he dropped Connor's collar. The puppy dog look on his face almost made me feel bad for him... almost.

"Come on, WALL-E. Don't want to keep the old man waiting."

[umbrellalery]

Katara Does Agni-Kai

Katara Does Agni-Kai 

There should be a fic where Katara finds out that Zuko has been getting constantly Agni Kai challenges.

And she is... pissed.

Like, she is Southern-Raiders-pissed.

Because it means that these people are forcing Zuko to relive one of the most traumatic events of his life. 

And so she exploits a loophole.

Agni Kais can be fought by someone else on your behalf as long as that person publicly acknowledges that you are the superior bender. 

Which she does because Katara has little room for pride in the face of overwhelming rage and the need to bloodbend these assholes into pretzels.

There's an uproar about how she cannot participate because she's not a firebender.

Until she points out that the rules were never clear that it had to be a FIREbender. It just says bender. 

So they let her fight on Zuko's behalf. The Grand Arbiter is not pleased with the sullying of the Agni Kai court with the presence of this waterbender but he has no legal grounds to actually prevent her.

Zuko puts up a token attempt to try to get Katara to back down and let him fight and he gets a vicious scolding for not telling Team Avatar that he has been fielding thinly-veiled assassination attempts all on his own. 

Katara was not going to let her brother's crush get murdered in the guise of ritual combat over something as dumb as honor. 

Yes, she knows all about Sokka's crush. 

And judging by the way Zuko hangs on to her every word when she gives updates about Sokka, it is not doomed to eternal pining on her dumb brother's side. 

The Arbiter explicitly tell her that she will not be allowed any water in as Agni Kais are fought with only what Agni gives. 

She says no big deal. 

And Zuko is one hundred percent sure she is going to win. 

Because Katara has faced the best of the Fire Nation army for years and, time and time again, she won. 

She took on a Sozin Comet Azula and won. 

Something as insignificant as having no water isn’t going to stop her. 

The Agni Kai court for the duel is packed with nobles. They're tittering over their wineglasses about this water tribe bumpkin. But also they are curious because it's the first Agni Kai fought by a waterbender. 

The challenger, General Yuon who is loyal to Ozai, sneers at Katara. 

The Agni Kai starts and Yuon takes his time to gloat and crack his neck. 

Which is his mistake because Katara is vicious and RUTHLESS. She immediately waterbends all the wine out of the nobles' glass and hits him in the face and freezes his head to the wall. 

It takes a few seconds before people realize that the Agni Kai is actually over. General Yuon is out cold, hanging from the wall as his head is frozen to it and bleeding from a none-too-shallow cut on his face. 

The whispers of disbelief start and everyone is shocked. 

Except, of course, Zuko who always knew Katara was going to make a mess of the general. 

He had fought her before so many times. She had stood as a wall between him and Aang for so long. He had repeatedly underestimated her and he now knew that she was one of the biggest reasons why he failed to capture Aang. 

Time and time again, Katara foiled him with whatever liquid she had at hand: water, tea, fruit juice, spit, sweat and, one humiliating time, actual piss from the village latrine. 

His challenger saw a little waterbender girl. 

Zuko saw an extremely formidable waterbending master. 

There is a dispute, of course. 

The wine was not given by Agni. 

And Katara narrowed her eyes and said: "Are you saying Agni did not give these nobles wine?" 

Which, of course, shut the arbiter up. 

The victory is hers. 

It takes a couple of days but the next challenger is a councilor. 

He disagreed with Zuko's policy on school curriculum changes. 

Zuko wanted the truth about the Fire Nation to be taught so they wouldn't repeat their mistakes. The councilor wanted to continue propaganda. 

Agni Kai. 

Before he could even say anything, Katara had already accepted on his behalf and Zuko couldn't do anything but watch. 

This time, the arbiter is careful to ensure that no one was bringing any drinks inside. 

The Agni Kai starts and the councilor immediately fires great gushes of flames. 

And Katara immediately douses them with large tentacles of water she seemingly conjured from nowhere before once again blasting the extremely surprised councilor to the wall. 

She pins him again by freezing his head to the wall and immobilizes his wrists as well. 

The Agni Kai is over in seconds. 

The arbiter's mouth is left hanging open in disbelief as Councilor Gi is escorted from the arena holding his furiously bleeding cheek. 

There are puddles underneath the spectators' seats and Zuko remembers that these were the emergency barrels of water that non-bender spectators could use to douse fires if the the flames of the Agni Kai ever got too wild. 

He smiles and shakes his head at Katara who shrugs and links her arm around his as they walk out. 

"Next time is going to be the last time, Zuko." 

And it could have well been the last time. 

General Yuon and Councilor Gi both recovered with a small but noticeable scar on their face. 

Zuko realized that Katara was placing those deliberately. 

He asked Katara about it actually: "Katara, these are my subjects, you know. You don't have to be so hard on them." 

And she looked at him with that same steely-eyed glare she had when she forced that firebender down on his knees with bloodbending when they were looking for her mother's killer. 

"Zuko, if these people are going to force you to relive your trauma by challenging you to an Agni Kai, I'm going to make sure they regret it." 

People were, indeed, whispering about Yuon and Gi's scars. 

The next challenge takes longer but it still comes. 

Captain Kai challenges Zuko to an Agni Kai over water territory that Zuko was returning to the Water Tribes.  

Katara, of course, accepts again on his behalf. This time the arbiter makes sure there are no sources of water nearby. No drinks. No barrels. 

The Agni Kai starts and, this time, Kai is careful. 

He tests Katara by shooting flames at her, ready for any counterattack. 

Katara summons no water but skillfully dodges the flames. She has fought firebenders before and has found herself with no water. She has had to learn to evade them. 

Every now and then, she tries to rush him to get an actual physical strike in but is warded off by great columns of flame. 

The room gets hotter and hotter as Kai shapes his flames larger and more aggressive. 

He has finally realized that Katara actually has no water and has gotten bold. 

Finally, she catches a glancing fire blow on her shoulder and she cries out in pain, sinking to one knee.

Kai immediately rushes in to deliver a finishing blow only for Katara to assume a sleek waterbending stance and gather all of the sweat from the spectators sitting in the blisteringly hot court. 

She shapes it into a tightly controlled whip and slices his cheek twice in quick succession, one on each side before resting it as a water blade under his throat. 

"Yield," she says with a voice that promised no mercy. 

And Kai, shocked into standing still, could feel the cold blade under his throat. 

He could feel blood rapidly trickling out of his two wounds and realized, with horror, that they were joining the blade under his throat. 

He yields, knowing defeat. Katara recalls the water to herself and uses it to immediately heal her shoulder burn. 

Zuko comes down from his seat and stands in front of her. 

"Katara... wow. Just... wow." 

She looks at him. "He'll be the last, Zuko." 

And, indeed, he was. Everyone now knew that challenging Zuko would result in a humiliating defeat to a non-firebender no less. 

Katara didnt leave the Fire Nation for a couple more months to make sure that there were no more challenges. 

She spent the time buying a lot of gifts for Zuko that she thought would make him smile. 

She also tried a lot of Fire Nation food. 

Often, she would sit in council meetings and voice out informed opinion much to the dismay of the other councilors. 

Most of all, she made sure to give him updates about Sokka because she was a softie that way. When Sokka comes to replace her as ambassador to the water tribe nation, she gladly goes.