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hhh-hemogoblin · 2 months ago

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Quick and Dirty

Summary: You and Astarion were out on a date night once again. But this night was special and little did you know you'd be seeing stars in more ways than one. Who knew that Baldur's Gate's alleyways could be so inviting after dark…

Pairing: Astarion x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 4.5k

Tags: NSFW, Smut, They're having fun in a dark alley, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Quickie, Banter, Established Relationship, Domestic Bliss, Second Person POV, Exhibitionism, Usual vampire behaviour

A/n: Another self-indulgent little one-shot, because I like the idea that those freaks cannot wait a single minute before going to town. I hope you'll like it! Any constructive feedback is welcome :)

It was a warm night in the Gate. The full moon shone brightly, illuminating the ripples in the bay and the belltowers alike: a glittery scenery. A soft breeze was blowing, just enough for the air not to be stuffy. It was almost midnight and this part of town was as quiet as it gets. Parents and children were already fast asleep, drunkards were still busy inside taverns, thug-business was still a couple of hours away and the sunrise would only be the grand finale for a night that was only starting.

What were you doing on this peaceful evening? Well, you’d just been out with your lover, in a fine inn, enjoying a delightful dinner. Every once in a while, seemingly at random, Astarion chose to take you out for a candle-lit dinner. “How cliché!”, you always told him, despite actually loving those quiet evenings the two of you spent together.

Those nights were little escapes, stripping you from the harsh reality of having to spend most of the day away from your dearest vampire. Without a solution for walking in broad daylight, he was sentenced to staying at home, “waiting for you to come back”, as he always put it, in the most dramatic voice he could summon. And so, every morning, you ventured forth, solving the citizens’ problems here and there, whether they needed an exterminator, someone to fish out a gold ring from the sewers or another mage to help out at Sorcerous Sundries, on particularly busy days. And every morning, without a fail, you kissed Astarion goodbye, while he mumbled something along the lines of “Why are you abandoning me again??” from under the sheets. With an almost heavy heart, you left the bed to get ready for the day, knowing that he would soon wake up as well. After all, his days weren’t exactly uneventful either, as he spent them reading, writing letters to faraway mages and healers or working on some elaborate embroidery to sell to the highest bidder (someone had to bring some gold to the household and unfortunately for you, luxury garments were a better trade than ridding a cellar of a horde of rats).

Those nights out were the ones you cherished: time you shared together, without distractions. Pure banter, bliss and love, nothing on your mind except the entrancing garnet eyes of your lover. After dinner, you usually wandered around the streets, your stomach filled with a hearty meal. You explored the dim alleys of Baldur’s Gate, in search for some nooks and crannies that you had never seen before, which proved a difficult task, considering the time you’d spent sneaking around and hiding between those very walls when you were on a quest to overthrow the Absolute. And then, you generally looked for a nice lookout, perhaps a belltower or an unoccupied balcony, from where you could see the moon in all her ethereal glory. Astarion knew that he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the scorching rays of sunrise anytime soon, so he relished in basking in the radiant moonlight. Even without any heat warming his skin, the light it offered was some sort of comfort. A fierce stance of resistance, a bold reminder that he would not spend eternity in darkness.

Opening up had never been one of Astarion’s strengths but you’d learned that, with time, he’d share both beautiful and haunting thoughts with you. And so you knew that all he wanted was to find a way to live in brightness again. You’d sworn to yourself that you’d make it our life’s work to make sure that this time, he got what he wanted, what he deserved.

Most times, you followed this unspoken routine, enjoying the night and making sure to come back home before the morning’s early hours, where you could still catch some sleep before the day started again. Tonight was not one of those nights. Tonight was one of the nights in which you didn’t even know you’d see the stars in more ways than one. Because some nights, dessert was served way after the main course, in the secluded privacy of your own home. A sweet and spicy moment of your own device.

Given his grim past, Astarion was only getting used to consensual intimacy again, which is why your love life was… spontaneous, to say the least. A sudden burst of flames inside both of your hearts, an immediate desire left to be satisfied. They could happen in the morning, before either of you had even left the sheets, or before lunch, when a ravenous hunger took over… And the meal was left to go cold on the counter while your bodies started heating up. You usually let him initiate it, so he could learn to regain control, but once the dance started, there was no telling of who’d be in charge that time.

You were just leaving the inn after a wonderfully entertaining supper, arms in arms with Astarion, when he gradually pulled you towards the right. “Why are you in such a rush?” you asked him, surprised by his behaviour. The high of the night hadn’t even been reached yet so there was no need to run home…

Instead of an answer, he stopped dead in his tracks and greeted you with a devilish smile. “Darling… Getting lost in your eyes was not enough tonight. I need to get lost in you. Now.”

The desperation in his hushed voice made the hair on your neck rise. You looked up to him with a lusty gaze and whispered “Let’s go home, then”, while tugging on his sleeve.

“Home’s too far. I can’t wait any longer. I want you here and now“, he said while towering over you and slowly walking in your direction, steering you into a dark and twisted alleyway. The assertiveness in his voice made you shiver deliciously and you complied, marching backwards in swift little steps, barely avoiding to stumble over your own feet.

Astarion’s magnetic gaze was fixed on your eyes, unflinching, while he kept driving you until you made it halfway into the narrow street. And he stopped.

“A dark, filthy, alley? Really? Couldn’t you have picked a nicer sp-“, you barely had any time for teasing. Shoving you into a wall and his tongue into your mouth was definitely a way to shut you up. In an instant, the whole world went black, as you felt your back crash against the brick wall.

Your lover was kissing you lavishly, and you were equally as generous, moaning into him, between pants, the excitement clearly rising within both your souls. His cool lips left your mouth, slowly moving to your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, hungrily sucking on the skin, nibbing at it, tugging at it with a sharp smile. You knew this ruthless show of passion would leave its traces, but in that very moment, you couldn’t care less. You indulged. He moved back to kiss you and in a wet battle of tongues, you got a hold of his bottom lip, playfully tugging at it with your teeth. He broke the kiss and grinned “Oh, no… I don’t think so… Tonight I’ll be the one playing with my food, sweetheart…”. This pledge made your insides churn, a light tingling, moving down your spine and straight to your core. This was going to be fun.

Astarion grabbed the collar of your dress and yanked you towards him, so that the two of you were pressed together tightly. Never letting go of your clothes, he planted a soft kiss on your lips and you knew that would be the last moment of respite for a while. His blazing eyes told you everything you needed to know. “Show me what you got…” was all you managed to utter, and that was all he needed to hear before entering a frenzied state of passion.

He gripped your collar tightly and lifted you off the ground before setting you down on a stack of empty crates against a house. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and whispered “Gods, you’re beautiful when you’re so eager for me”. His voice alone would have sufficed to make you come undone but you tried to pull yourself together, bracing for what was to come. Your partner ripped your dress open, exposing your breasts to the cool air. He grabbed your jaw with slight force, peered deep into your eyes before crashing with your lips again. All the while, his silky hands were wandering around your body, grabbing every bit of exposed skin they could reach. A rogue true to his craft, his movements were so swift that it felt like dozens of hands caressing your skin all at once. Goosebumps started to rise wherever his hands had been, your nipples perking up due to the contrast of your hot skin and his frosty fingers. You moaned into his mouth, leaning into him even more, one hand on the back of his neck, pressing him towards you, your other hand softly palming his strong broad chest.

He pulled away from your lips and stared deep into your eyes. Passion fuelled the burning embers behind his eyes as his lustful gaze took in every detail of your face. The only source of light was a street lantern that was barely emitting any light. His features were as angelic as ever in the dim light, yet tonight, he planned to be wicked. It felt as if the two of you were secluded in a cupboard of void, with nothing interrupting your evening programme. Although…

All of a sudden you broke the kiss, eyes wide open, visibly startled. Adrenaline coursed through your body quicker than ever. You peeked behind your lover’s head but couldn’t see anything except the poorly lit crates and cobble stones of the alley. “I… I thought I’d heard something”, you admitted. A playful laugh escaped his lips and he jived: “Darling, if there were someone skulking around, I’d have heard them before they’d even turned the corner”. He paused, looked to the side grinning and continued: “But, if you must know, there’s definitely a pair enjoying the same type of… late-night trysts, a couple houses down. Quite loudly in fact, they’re pushing things off the table, in the kitchen perhaps?” Still amused, he furrowed his brows, assessing the situation “Such energy, he’s… Oh… Oh my!” A devilish smile was plastered across his face just a little longer, as he pondered the end of the street. He looked like a perverted voyeur enjoying the show. He then reverted to you, peering deep into your eyes and then glancing at your already swollen lips. “Well, it seems we’re not the only ones indulging in the pleasures of the flesh… Don’t you get distracted!” you said with a wink. This earned you an honest confession, whispered like a secret in between shared breaths: “What could ever distract me when my whole world is in front of me?”

You smiled, resuming your kiss, ravished by the fondness Astarion had just expressed. You flung your hands to the back of his head, slowly working your way into his tousled mop of hair, tugging at his curls and delicately scratching his scalp with your nails. Your legs were tangled around him and all you could do was pull him impossibly closer to you.

His full undivided attention now back to you, he cupped your face, kissing you surprisingly sweetly, before slowly letting both his hands glide down your chest, past your bare breasts, along your ribs and your waist. The slightest push of his hand made sure you were well sat upon the wooden crates. He slowly kneeled in front of you, his eyes still set on yours, unblinking, and a mischievous smile gracing his face. “I know we just had dinner, but I’m thinking that I’ve got some room left for dessert…” he hushed, as he playfully fondled your thighs. His hands reached the hem of your skirts, which he ever so carefully lifted all the way up, thus gaining access to your crotch. He caressed your thighs some more before pulling your underpants down in one swift motion and pocketing them hastily. There you were, half-naked in a darkened street, your core already slick and eager. He brought his face to your inner thighs, grazing the delicate skin with his fangs before kissing it softly, making his way to your cunt. “Your soft skin and your compelling scent are exactly what I need tonight, love…”, he spoke. Your pulse quickened, your skin was smouldering with every single touch and you could feel your loins grow impatient. You carefully bucked your hips forwards to grant him better access when he grabbed both your legs and placed them over his shoulders.

You gasped, at the first contact, the tip of his tongue expertly reaching for the main feature. It wasn’t long before his mouth had completely engulfed you, every movement of his skilled tongue making you shiver and pant. You could barely contain your little yelps, as he alternated between swift flicks around your rosebud and slower flat movements that pushed you further and further towards the pool of ecstasy. As if that wasn’t enough, he let go of your leg and added his dexterous fingers to the mix. An unexpected finger dug into you and your eyes opened in surprise. “Astarion!” you blurted out, which made him abruptly stop his ministrations. “Darling, I thought the idea of getting caught in the act here didn’t appeal to you…” He started, clearly teasing you. “If you keep making so much noise at this late hour, I’m afraid we’re going to have to take preventive measures!” He winked. You giggled at his words, trying to keep it down as he worked his way back to your core.

He inserted a second finger shortly after, which had your eyes rolling back inside your head. “Astarion, please, give me more…” you begged. His legendary accuracy did not fail him, even when his mind was clouded by lust. You were trying your best to make as little noise as possible but the lewd noises he made going down on you were about as discrete as an elephant walking through a porcelain shop. Your whole body was tensing up, pleasure building inside you. The sounds, the sensations, the scents… It was all so much: you needed to steady yourself. Even though Astarion’s hands were holding you firmly, you felt moments away from losing control and toppling over.

On instinct, you reached for the vampire’s head, fondling it, delicately sliding your fingers through his locks before grasping them firmly. You pulled his head into your mount, making sure that he knew just how much you were enjoying yourself. You started grinding your hips into his face a bit more and, right on cue, he tightened his grip on your body, almost digging his nails into your tender flesh. You two were impossibly close, almost merging into one, and the satisfied moans and vibrations emanating from him only added to the delicious stimulation he was already providing. Every flick of the tongue, every tug of his fingers, pulled at your every nerve. Your eyes were rolling back, your breath hitched, as you tried to contain all the praises and curses you’d be spilling in a more private context. “Hhh… Astarion, keep going just like that… You’re gifted…”, you whispered. To no surprise, you could feel him laugh in response. It didn’t take much more to send you over the edge, your body shaking, frantic whimpers escaping your mouth as you delicately reached for his jaw. Your sensitive cunt was still throbbing as you were riding out your orgasm, and he continued nonetheless, even if his tongue was working much slower now, tenderly tending to you.

Your body was just adjusting to feel again and you returned your hands to his crown of curls, knowing he particularly enjoyed that. At this point, you were practically massaging his scalp and you slowly made your way to his ears. His delicate elven ears twitched under your touch. He unlatched from your core within moments and peered into your eyes with a half-lidded gaze “Gods… Darling… I wasn’t quite finished yet, but something tells me we need to turn to other matters…”. Even in the dim light of the street lantern, you saw that he looked down at his crotch, which you could only assume was already bulging hard. You smiled in anticipation.

“Mmmh, come here”, he mumbled as he stood up again. He offered you his open hand: “M’Lady…”, he said in a ridiculously posh tone. You giggled and hopped off of the crates. You took his hand and answered him in an equally haughty tone: “My Lord…”. Raising his brow, his proceeded to spin you around twice, as if this were a courtly dance. He pulled you towards him, your back to his chest, and whispered wickedly in your ear: “… And now I’ll take what’s mine.”

With a push between your shoulder blades, he shoved you into the wall, where you barely caught yourself with your hands, gasping at the sudden changing dynamic. Despite not being able to detect his pulse, you could feel the urgency raise within him. One moment he was holding your waist tightly and the next, he grabbed your ankle from the ground, setting your foot on the crate. He pushed himself onto you some more so that you had to hold on to the wall and the crate in order to maintain balance. He pulled your skirt over your backside, exposing your thighs and buttocks to the fresh summer breeze once again. Towering over you, he planted soft kisses along the supple skin of your shoulders and neck while his hand wandered to your ass. His cool touch made you shiver as much as it heated you up, and you yearned for more of him. You could feel him, all of him, pressed along your body: his light breath on your neck, his broad chest on your back, his hard length on your ass.

“So tender…” He grasped your ass firmly, before stroking it for a moment and spanking your cheek without a warning. A little “Oh!” is all you managed to blurt out, as the sting of his slap subsided and a pleasant tingling sensation spread across the reddened area.

As he was looming over you, he traced your neck with the tip of his nose, breathing you in, audibly satisfied. Without needing to turn your head around, you could feel his plush lips smiling against your sensitive skin. You collected your hair with one hand put it all on one side of your head, exposing your neck even more. Of course he’d notice the invitation but you thought some reassurance might be in order. “I know you’re dying to bite down, sweet tooth… Go ahead.”, you uttered in a sultry voice. With time, you’d almost come to appreciate the sting and odd numbness of a vampire’s bite. “Well, darling, you don’t have to tell me twice”, he managed to spit, before getting dangerously close to your carotid artery. Without further warning, he plunged his fangs into your neck.

There it was again, that familiar sharp, icy pain, which pushed all the air out of your lungs. You still found it uncanny that his teeth were somehow even colder than the rest his body, but maybe it was only the mere shock factor brought upon by the sudden piercing of your skin.

The pain started to subside, as you carefully breathed in again, slowly giving way to a blunt numbness, engulfing your neck and going as far as your collarbones. As he meticulously drank from you, his grip tightened on your hips. His newly gained vigour filled his arteries one by one, starting in his chest and slowly travelling to all his limbs. His feverish bloodlust was almost satiated it seemed, as you felt his body grow warmer and warmer each passing moment. The grip on your body eased as well, before he started lapping at your fresh puncture wounds. Whether it was a somatic feeling or a real physiological response, it seemed that the ravaged skin slowly mended itself the more he licked it. Perhaps someone ought to investigate the regenerative properties of vampire spit…

Your scientific considerations were immediately cast aside, as you felt Astarion’s growing erection press harder and harder on your ass. “A bottle of the finest Thayan Red is nothing compared to a drop of your exquisite blood. Elixir of life, elixir of love… I don’t think I could live without it anymore…” He planted a soft kiss on your newly marked neck and you felt his hand leave your hip and adroitly unbutton his breeches. You grew more impatient by the second, you wanted him, you needed him. You felt his erection spring free, followed by a sigh of relief. “I hope you are ready, my love, because the anticipation is killing me”, he warned. With these words, he positioned himself at your entrance and you felt his tip slowly sink into your dripping cunt.

This time, it was effortless: your body gave way almost instantly. Thanks to Astarion’s wonderous attentions, your arousal had reached an all-time high. One sole thrust and he was completely buried inside you, which earned a sharp hiss from him. A low moan escaped your lips as you relished in how your lover’s cock was deliciously stretching you out. “Mmmm… Every single time I’m inside of you feels better than the last, how could it be?”, he uttered. “Must be magic?” you retorted, barely managing to form a coherent sentence. He chuckled at your nonsensical answer and kissed the nape of your neck.

One of his hands left your hips and wandered across your body, to your breast. He gently grabbed it, pulling you closer to him, making your back arch some more. He started slowly sliding out of you, taking his time so you’d feel every vein on his hard cock, before pushing his length back inside again. Though every thrust was agonizingly slow, a myriad of sensations sprouted in your mind. You couldn’t keep it to yourself and the obscene whines just escaped your mouth with growing intensity.

“Tsk, darling, what did we say about being quiet? As much as I love hearing you react to my touch, we can’t have you impersonate Sharess’ Caress’ number one performer in the middle of the street! Let’s make this right”. Without wasting a moment, he reached into his pocket, pulled something out and immediately went for your mouth. By stuffing your mouth with your own undergarments, he made sure all of your sounds were muffled, at the very least. You were pleasantly surprised by his initiative and placed your hand on Astarion’s, which was still on your hip, to showcase your support.

Seemingly content, he shifted his focus back to what he was doing, slowly picking up the pace whilst exploring your most intimate depths. The angle was perfect, the head of his cock hit your sweet spot with every thrust, making you quiver in ecstasy. You could feel the tension build up inside of your loins again, a pressing feeling that only intensified as your lover worked you up. Your grip on his hand became firmer, a subtle signal that you were approaching your high. Astarion sucked and nibbled at the supple skin of your neck, occasionally biting down on your shoulder, careful enough not to draw blood. His hand wandered down from your breasts to your nether regions, caressing your thighs and reaching your clit once more. That first touch sent a jolt of pleasure through your entire body. “Mmmmmhh…”, you voiced through your makeshift gag.

As his cock was rapidly slipping in and out of your slick cunt, his fingers started circling around your pink pearl, sending you into a spiral of engulfing sensations. You slowly started hearing less, seeing less, breathing less, feeling as if you were flying. You were huffing and grunting through the fabric, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, while you were rushing towards that sweet release once more.

Astarion was very much aware of your imminent climax and he had as little words left in him as you did. No more witty retorts, only devotion and surrender. He was groaning in your neck, almost whimpering at times, his body evidently reacting to yours: every time his thrusts made you clench, his length twitched in return inside of you. You couldn’t refrain yourself much longer, you had to let go.

Three… Two… One… One last thrust and you came crashing down, your soul leaving your body momentarily. The warmth flooded your body and mind once again, a numbing nothing and everything all at once. Your spasming muscles would’ve failed you, if not for Astarion’s firm hands holding you into place. Seeing you come undone had pushed him over the edge shortly after: as you were still riding out your high, you could feel him twitch as he came inside of you, thick, warm ropes of cum coating your walls. He panted into your ear, whispering your name, trying to speak “Hells… Fuck… This is…”. His pace slowed down, before he stopped completely, staying buried deep inside of you for a moment. Your heartbeat was stabilising again and he placed a reverent kiss on your jaw.

After you had both cooled down a bit, Astarion removed himself and helped you back up. You were still a bit shaky but you knew you’d be able to count on him for support. You turned around and stared into his ruby eyes. He seemed, content, relaxed, just as he should be. You matched his soft smile and ran a hand through his hair, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. He took your hand as you were ready to head home. “Needless to say, this was amazing, darling. Thank you for indulging in a little treat.” You answered earnestly: “It truly was wonderful. Anytime, my love.”

“Should we get going? I fear it’s getting fresh already and we both know you need to get ready for your beauty sleep…”, you added, taunting him a bit. “Indeed, I would not say no to a bath before sunrise…”

Upon leaving the alley, you crossed ways with a Flaming Fist who had just turned at the corner. You looked at Astarion and whispered: “Whew… Close one!”. Astarion made a grimace and rushed you towards the main street.

The way back was quiet, as you both enjoyed the early morning in the city, before any merchants had opened up their shop, only meeting a few drunkards along the way.

You were lucky it was only a short walk home, because with every step, you felt Astarion’s warm spend dripping out of you and down your thighs. Seeing how he smirked, he probably knew it too. Oh well, laundry day was due tomorrow anyway…

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #fanfic #nsft #smut

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di-daynamic · 2 years ago

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Falling (for you) Through The Snow

My fic for @jilychallenge2023 Winter in June Challenge. Partner: @wearingaberetinparis Prompt: You’re a snow artist and I think you just made a snowman(woman) that looks exactly like me… do you have anything to confess?

Lily Evans loathed the winter season.

She hated having to wear unwieldy scarves and large sweaters. She hated shivering and sneezing all the time. She hated the biting chill of the air. She hated the crunching of snow under her feet and having to shovel it out of the way. She hated even the merry carolers and especially the mistletoe she was allergic to.

It was honestly kind of ironic, because the man she was in love with was a snow artist and ice sculptor, which meant he basically personified All The Cold Things. Even imagining watching him make his intricate ice sculptures and snow craft made her smile.

She was that far gone.

Except that scenario was not at all plausible, firstly because she did not know the name of the man she was in love with, and secondly, he did not return her feelings. He was fixated on the The Unattainable Angel, or as Lily liked to call her, The One Who Had No Idea How Lucky She Was.

The name needed some work, but it conveyed her sentiment well enough.

She disliked disliking or competing with a fellow female but. . . Well, emotion did tend to disregard rational judgement and decision-making.

The love of her life thought ‘Effermont’ was a good pen-name, and she’d still fallen for him, so, well, love very clearly was one of those emotions.

It was her turn to write him, wasn’t it? It’d been nearly two days since she’d picked his letter up from Albus Dumbledore’s lovely little café Godric’s Hollow. If she left it much longer, he might think she’d abandoned him.

Or, more likely, that she’d died, seeing as he was rather full of himself on the exterior and would never believe anyone would deny themselves the opportunity to ‘bask in his reflected glory’ (his own words).

She’d grumble about the season to him. That always got him very cutely riled up.

Dear Eff,

Or should I say toff? I can’t believe you have a ski lodge! Are you going to it these hols? And what about your best friend/very annoying brother? Will he be going with you or is his wicked family going to trap him into one of their horror movie family reunions?

I can’t believe it’s winter again. I hate this season so much!

I can just see your face (I mean, I would I if I knew what it looked like) looking so annoyed. I know you like the winter, Eff. It’s the only flaw in your oh-so-perfect self.

I mean, winter is just plain annoying. With literally none of the good things other seasons bring! What comes in the winter? Slipping on the ice? Strawberries?

In other news, my sister and her husband came to visit home and my mum ordered me back, so I spent this weekend in my house in dodgy old Cokeworth. You haven’t heard of it. It’d be a no-name except I just wrote its name, so.

My nephew is a sweet baby, the cutest and chubbiest one on the planet. My sister on the other hand. . . Well, I’ll leave it at ‘we could get along better’. But you already know that. You probably know more of my sister and my relationship than anyone except my old best friend, but talking about him really brings down my mood so I’m not going to do that.

Not that much needs to happen for that. Winter is coming, after all. Winter is already here and that is such a pity.

She bought me this really ugly pink sweater. I’m sure it’s not lost on her that I’m a redhead and therefore ANY pink looks absolutely terrible on me, much less this garish monstrosity that makes me want to poke my eyes out when I look in the mirror while wearing it.

Redheads look terrible in pink. And basically any colour on the red spectrum. It’s a fact of life, and one she knows VERY well.

And she had the nerve to say it suited my personality? I’m sorry, what?

Honestly, sometimes I just want to kill her. And not in the good way – like how you say it about your very annoying best friend/brother.

How goes the life-ending heart rending love for The Unattainable Angel? You didn’t talk about that in your last letter, which is odd. Your letters are usually full of romantic woes. No judgement, mine were too, back when I actually had a romantic life to speak of.

How are your friends? Got into any ridiculous shenangians lately? Have you talked to your mother since your last letter? It sounds like you argued pretty badly and I know she’s very important to you, Mama’s boy.

In all seriousness, don’t let the bitterness fester. It does so too easily, and honestly, I’m a prime example. Don’t let one argument ruin such a wonderful relationship, Eff.

Onto lighter topics. I tried the flavour you recommended at Godric’s. It was good. Just the right amount of bitterness to offset the sweetness. Finally, we can say we both like a coffee flavour! It looked impossible for a while there.

And no, Katniss and Gale would definitely not make a good couple! The sheer amount of sweets you like to have is rotting your brain, Eff. Everlark all the way, thank you very much.

How are your studies going? Mine are going pretty well. At least you don’t need to take a Sociology class which requires you to send letters out to complete strangers in the hopes they’ll reply. I can’t regret picking this social experiment, though, because it got me you, and that made it pretty much worth it.

Pretty much. Weighing it out.

No letter hassle v. No Eff. Hmmm. Hard to say.

Kidding.

Continuing the getting to know you game: I hate, hate, HATE answering this but the embarrassing story about me my mum and dad just adore telling people is the time I went around the house narrating everything that was happening just in case we had cameras recording us for a reality show. Or the time I was flower-girl at my aunt’s wedding and I threw all the flowers on her new husband’s really annoying father’s head. Or the time I tried to cut my hair with safety scissors and had to get a bob cut to rectify the mess. Or the leash story. God, the leash story. You don’t want to know it. It’s even more mortifying as an adult.

If I could holiday anywhere, it’d be Italy. Venice and Rome especially! The thought of going along on a little gondola is just really fun, and Rome has all the history I love. History’s been my favourite subject since I was a kid. Not that I could ever tell dad. Maths has obviously been my sister’s and my favourite since we were kids and still is.

He still isn’t over me studying law.

So, for you! If you could have any name other than your given one (obviously, I don’t know what it is, so please don’t trick me by just using that!) what would it be? If you could have any pet, which animal and why?

And write something for me. You’re a psychology student, psychoanalyze me and write me something I’d like. I know, I know, your artistic talents tend towards visual – being a snow artist and all – rather than literature, I’m the literature swot between us, but I recorded that song on the piano and sent it to you, didn’t I?

I hope the walls of your house didn’t collapse from how bad that was.

Lots of love,

Flower.

Her pining didn’t show through that, Lily thought, pleased. Nor did her bitterness at asking about The Unattainable Angel. Lily despised the thought of seeing the other girl as a competitor – and she didn’t – but she didn’t need to drive a stake through her heart by repeatedly hearing about her.

But she had long decided the only way to get over a hopeless crush was to power through it while making her heart bleed over and over. Hence the asking.

She folded the letter and slid it into the envelope.

“Lily!” Mary called from the hall. “Are you done getting ready?”

Lily froze guiltily. She’d completely forgotten about the party in favour of venting her frustrations at Eff. He was very good at taking that. He was quite possibly the best pen pal in the universe, except she had no objective way of measuring that.

Subjectively, he absolutely was.

But back to the moment.

“Er, not yet,” she yelled back to her roommate. “Give me a minute!”

She quickly put on the dress Eliza had gotten out for her earlier – much to her protestations then and now relief that she didn’t have to select one herself – and did her makeup. It wasn’t anywhere near what she would have typically done for a party.

“Your minute means an hour,” Mary was exaggeratedly complaining as she slipped out of her room. She frowned at her. “Why do you look like you threw that together in thirty seconds?”

Probably because she had.

“Never mind that,” Eliza said like the godsend she was. “Mare, do her hair while I get the mascara.”

“I don’t get why you guys treat me like a baby,” Lily grumbled, even as grateful as she was.

Eliza pinched her cheek. “Oh poor jelly-baby,” she cooed her very demeaning nickname for Lily.

“Quit acting like one then,” Mary suggested rudely, parting her hair.

“We’re stopping by Godric’s on the way.” Lily announced as she started driving on the icy roads, finally entirely ready. She looked in the rearview mirror for a moment. She looked amazing. Mary and Eliza were miracle workers.

Mary groaned. “Oh, come on. Do you do anything other than write to your beloved Effermont?”

Mary was very disapproving of the whole letter-writing thing: both the concept of writing to a stranger and the reopening of her very tender wounds of heartbreak every time.

“Plenty,” she replied drily. “Listen to your opinions regarding it, for one.”

“I’m just worried about you, Lils!” She called after her as she left the car. They’d reached Godric’s Hollow café.

Fair enough.

Albus Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as brightly as ever as he took her letter outside his café. “Your Effermont is in there right now,” he said amusedly. She flushed at the ‘your’ before actually registering the sentence.

“Oh my God,” she said, feeling a thrill run up her. This was the first time they’d ever been this close to each other – that Lily knew of, anyway. “I should go then. Don’t want him discovering my identity.”

“Of course. Is this the actual letter or simply the directions? For I fear he’s in somewhat of a hurry,” Albus said.

Lily grinned. Eff had made her drink his coffee recommendation – good and not ridiculously sweet for once – before she could get his last letter. She’d once made him climb a tree. He’d once given her a series of riddles to solve before Albus gave her his letter. It was fun, but also not something you could do quickly, and Lily’s grumble fest had been pretty quick. Their letters typically reached seven or eight pages.

“The letter itself,” she assured him, shaking his hand before striding back to the car. Mary frowned disapprovingly, and Eliza gave her a thumbs up.

Mary lectured her about the letters all through the drive, making her very relieved to come up the driveway of the house where Benjy Fenwick was hosting the party.

“That is one big ass house,” she said under her breath as she leaned against her car after parking. Mary and Eliza were already inside.

“Isn’t it just?” Remus Lupin smiled at her, looking as tired as always. “Fenwick has a really huge inheritance.”

She bit back the instinctive ‘how are you’ – she was sure a chronically sick person like him was sick of that (pun unintended) – and instead asked, “Where are your mates?”

He waved vaguely at the house. “Sirius and Peter are in there, causing trouble no doubt, but James got. . . Delayed.” There was a wry twist to the last word that suggested disapproval or amusement. Lily couldn’t tell. “I’m waiting for him now, in fact.”

Alarm reared in her head. The last thing she wanted was to run into James Potter. She didn’t loathe him anymore the way she had in high school, but that didn’t mean she wanted to see him.

Too bad for her.

“Hey, Moony! I’ve got a new—” James Potter stopped short at the sight of her, blinking. He was casually handsome in a polo shirt and jacket and trousers, hair tousled, his spectacles lopsided on his angular face. “Evans.”

“Potter,” she said briskly. “I’ll see you in class, Remus.” She moved towards the house, when Potter grabbed her arm. It was gentle, not restricting or pulling, but it felt like a jolt of electricity ran up her arm. “Don’t touch me!”

She turned to glare at him. He backed up in alarm, holding his hands up. “Sorry, Evans. Just had a question.”

She breathed through her irritation. “What is it?”

“Can I use you as a model?”

“A model for what?” She stared at him.

Potter faltered, “I – uh, I’m an artist of sorts. And I was just wondering, for this commission—”

“You can,” she said brusquely, moving again. She modelled for art classes for extra money. She was used to being a muse for people. She didn’t know why Potter had asked in the first place but. . . It was considerate of him.

Maybe he wasn’t that bad.

On second thought, nah. She remembered the utter fiasco he’d created last week in the mess hall.

Potter was, for some reason, the person she disliked most among the self-proclaimed Marauders. Perhaps it was his brief obsession with asking her out back in high school, or the fact that he’d been the main perpetrator in Sev being bullied. But she immensely disliked talking to or being around him either way, so it didn’t really matter.

She rejoined Eliza – Mary was off somewhere with her toy of the night, this time Hestia Jones – and thankfully managed to avoid all the Marauders for the rest of the party.

She even managed to enjoy herself, drinking a fair bit, dancing, playing a couple games and giving her number to a cute guy who might actually help her get over Eff.

All in all not a half bad night. She’d gone to worse parties.

She found herself back in Godric’s Hollow the two evenings later, listening to Marshmello on her headphones, sipping a Frappuccino (bitter, obviously) and finishing editing her assignment in Trade Relations.

“Lily,” Albus called. She looked up enquiringly, slipping her headphones down her neck. “A note from your Effermont.”

The whole world lit up from its previously dull colours. She eagerly took the folded paper from the barista, reading the scrawled message. Eff had a weird handwriting: it was like he’d been taught calligraphy, but didn’t have the time or the bother to either use it properly or disregard it completely.

It was charming. She loved it.

You will find your letter at the following place: 1. Dog Walkers for Hire 2. Home Repair 3. Symphony Orchestra

Lily closed her laptop and packed her things hurriedly, eagerness swimming through her. She’d figured out the place easily, and rushed to the intersection, grabbing the letter (with a laugh at the fact that a Congrats! Sticker was stamped on the envelope) and walked back to the flat, pulling her shawl tighter around herself.

God, she hated the cold.

Eff was as irascibly cheerful as ever.

To the Prettiest Flower in Existence, started the letter, making Lily blush delightedly.

It is I, your beloved Eff! I hope you haven’t missed me too much. It took a while to set up the hunt and write down everything I wanted to do. My mum goes crazy for Christmas. She’s hired all these decorators for the manor, and I can just hear you say ‘toff’! (If I knew what your voice sounded like, of course). So my very annoying best friend/brother and I had to clear off for a bit, and then my other friend had this episode with his illness and. . .

Well, anyway, I was busy. And things are all fine now. Mum isn’t going any less crazy, sadly, but the rest of it’s sorted.

To answer your questions: Honestly, I’m not sure what name I’d like. My dad and mum have these really ridiculous names, you’d laugh if you ever heard them. Seriously. And my best friends too. So I think I’d either want some stupidly fancy thing to match them (not likely) – like Theodore, or Romulus, or Perseus, or Octavius or Septimus. More likely some nice, common name like mine. So. . . Tom maybe. Tom sounds nice. Or Alastair. That’s a cool name too. Daniel. Sam. Alex. Noah. Henry, like my granddad. And I would love to be a Finnick, obviously. After my favourite character, even if it would invite jokes about being too finicky.

Honestly, it’s impossible to choose! Just like you to give these weird philosophical questions, Flower. I had to ask my parents why they chose the name James and all that, so points for giving me a chance to learn some family history plus some terrible details of their sex life I never wanted to know.

As for the second one, an owl. Hands down. I don’t need a dog, because my best friend/brother is practically one, minus the obedience part. An owl just sounds really amazing. Nocturnal animal, for one. It could keep me company on my night study sessions. Did you know they can rotate their necks upto 270 degrees?? And that they have asymmetrical ears? Plus they could be like carrier pigeons! Delivery owls! I’d train them. In fact, I want to be an owl trainer when I grow up. Forget my Psychology and Philosophy degree.

You’ve probably gathered from some of the other comments that I made up with mum. You were right. Naturally. You’re probably always right, and just incredible like that. I was a bit hesitant about making the first apology (my pride yada yada, psychoanalyzing and all) but your letter convinced me, so. . . Thanks for that, Flower. You’re the best.

I have heard of Cokeworth, actually. It’s where The Unattainable Angel is from, which is such a coincidence! Do you think you might know one another? You’re both about the same age – mine – and I gather it’s a fairly small town so you must, yeah?

I am extremely offended at your disparaging winter, Flower. My favourite season! I’m sorry, we’re over. I can’t write to someone who hates something so meaningful to me. I’m a snow artist! It’s a bit weird, isn’t it, that we’re writing to one another? Months after your first generic letter for your project? You dislike sweet stuff, I love it. You hate winter, and the winter is literally my livelihood. You ship Everlark, I ship Everthorne. BTW, you’re wrong about that. Like, so wrong. Attached is a list of reasons Everthorne would work. I love Katniss and Gale together!

Attached is also a story I wrote for you. Feel honoured, Flower. I don’t do this for just anybody. Also, don’t come at me when you find that it’s absolutely awful. I know. Like you said, I’m not a writer. I’m an artist. A SNOW artist, so deal with it. Winter’s the best. Winter is already here, and that is AMAZING.

Speaking as an artist, I can assure you, pink does not look terrible on all redheads. The Unattainable Angel is a redhead, and she would look pretty in a garbage bag, so I refute your assertion. I bet you look good in pink too.

In order to prove that, I, the stunning snow artist that I am, will be making a sculpture of The Unattainable Angel in pink! It’s a commission I got last week, for this business party in a garden in the suburbs. It’s some fundraiser, sort of, plus networking – don’t ask me. My dad does this kind of stuff for his business, and it all goes way over my head. Who holds something like this in a garden though? And wants an ice sculpture for it? Especially one of a girl? I contemplated not doing it, especially because I don’t want her stared at by perverts, but she agreed, and she’s a model, so she’s probably used to it. . .

She’s so great. And so incredibly gorgeous. I can’t wait to get sculpting! It’ll turn out beautiful, I’m sure. Anything would, with her as model.

Ouch about your sister, though. I can’t believe she said that. I’m sorry your relationship has soured so much. My best friend/adopted brother is the worst and most annoying person on the planet, but I can’t imagine my life or myself without him. I’m sorry you’ve lost that closeness. I’m sure it must be hard.

The Unattainable Angel is as, well, unattainable as ever. She really, really hates me. So nothing new on that front, except I actually managed words to ask her if she can be my model for the sculpture, to prove something to you and for the commission – the first more than the second ;)

Trust me, you don’t want to know about my friends. Really. Like I said, my chronically ill friend had an episode, but he’s fine now. But really. My brother and our other friend did this so stupid thing yesterday. . . It involved flag poles. And jumping off buildings. They may have been a tad drunk.

They must have been – either that, or clinically insane. And my mum still didn’t scold him! She’s definitely playing favourites. And I am not pouting about it. Also, I am so not a Mama’s boy, Flower! You take that back!

My studies are going well. I got an A on that test I wrote to you about being nervous about, so that’s a relief. It’s so weird to think we’re already well into our second year. It feels like I’m still at high school sometimes. The general stupidity of the population doesn’t change no matter where you are, I’m sure you would say. But still.

Yeeees, soon we’ll bring you onto the dark side Flower! Soon you’ll be consuming the sugariest and sweetest stuff known to mankind and loving it! In all seriousness, glad you liked the rec! I’m going to suggest white chocolate peppermint tea now. It’s a Godric’s special. It’s pretty sweet, but I think you’ll like it. Or maybe not. Try it and tell me!

I absolutely want to know the leash story! Tell me, tell me, tell me! Pretty please with a cherry on top? I’m sending you puppy eyes right now. I wish you could see. My mum tells me my puppy dog begging eyes are absolutely lethal. I bet you’d cave in an instant. I wish we could meet in person. I know you don’t want to – just an idle wish.

Also, wow. Those stories are hilarious. Not as stupidly embarrassing as ones my mum insists on telling though. She brings out the baby album every. time. somebody visits. It’s so stupid! And my brother is no help, he just keeps laughing, especially because there aren’t any baby photos of him.

I bet you looked cute with your bob cut, though. How old were you then? The thought that people might be watching us in some reality show is pretty scary. Thanks for the nightmares, Flower.

Continuing the game: Tell me your favourite traditions for a holiday. Any holiday. And if you could have any three books survive the apocalypse with you, which would they be?

I want you to write down five things you even slightly like about the winter. As a snow artist, I demand that my pen pal/closest female friend like at least something about it. If you could send me that piano recording (which wasn’t that bad by the way) you can do this. For me? With puppy dog eyes again.

Lots of love,

Effermont.

Lily was smiling instinctively as she read through the letter, already composing a reply inside her head. She couldn’t help it. Eff was so effortlessly cheerfully charming. God, she was so hopelessly in love with him. Even as he pined after The Unattainable Angel. Who sounded like a bitch who had no idea what she had.

Lily sighed and tried to let go of that misplaced anger. She just wished she could have Eff like her. He did seem like he was flirting sometimes. It got her hopes up when they oughtn’t.

Maybe Mary was right. Maybe this was bad for her.

But at the same time – she couldn’t stomach the thought of this stopping. Of never receiving a letter from him again. Of never laughing at his random thoughts and smiley faces. Of never feeling that despairing love again.

There was no good choice.

She let her chin drop onto her palm as she scanned the letter again idly, stopping at the places where he complimented her, blushing and feeling nerves stir in her stomach. Stopping where he described his latest commission, she frowned.

That sounded familiar. Lily thought about it, putting the letter and the attached papers away for later reading and replying. A networking event. Garden. In the suburbs. Ice. . . Then it clicked.

Marlene’s mum’s company was having a gala in the garden just outside her house. A semi-informal one. Marley had talked to her about the ice statue of a girl they’d ordered for it. Someone in the family had been commissioned.

Lily’s heart skipped a beat. Someone in Marley’s family could be Eff. The thought was almost dangerous. She’d met her friend’s immediate family a couple times. Her mind was immediately racing: she had two brothers. And multiple male cousins. One of them. . .

But would knowing be a good thing? Did she want to know who Eff really was?

Yes, her traitorous heart replied. Of course she wanted to know whom she was in love with.

But the more sensible part of her protested. She already liked him enough. Knowing his true identity, seeing him around the Hogwarts campus – that might literally shatter her. She didn’t know if she could handle it.

But Lily was impulsive, reckless. It was somethine Tuney and Sev had derided her for multiple times. It was part of who she was. She took out her phone and shot a message to Marlene, asking if she could come to her mum’s party, on account of being a law student and networking.

It wasn’t a lie. Meeting influential people would be useful.

But she knew her main reason for asking. And it was purely personal.

The party was nice – a much classier affair than the high school and college parties she’d been to, thankfully. She chatted with several people, made nice and got business cards, all the while looking for an ice sculpture of a girl, heart thumping.

“Lily!” Marlene called. “Hey, crazy coincidence you’re here.”

“Why is that?” She asked, putting her glass of wine down and making her way to her friend.

Marley pointed vaguely in the direction behind her. “This ice statue— it’s of a girl, and—”

Lily didn’t bother listening further, turning and making her way in that direction. Then she saw the statue, and came to a standstill.

It was her. It was her, in pink clothes, just as Eff had promised. It was her right down to the curves of her hair and the green in her eyes and the smile on her face.

Eff had used her as the model for his commission.

She was The Unattainable Angel.

Her mind went blank. Her whole body felt numb, and not from the cold. Her hands were trembling.

Eff was in love with her. He was every bit in love with her as she was with him, judging by his letters.

She had to—she had to find him. She had to tell him. She had to move. She had to do something.

But what?

Dear Eff,

I saw the statue you made for the McKinnon Offices’ Business Party. I know her. I want to meet. I think I can help you finally attain The Unattainable Angel.

Love,

Flower

To the Flower of Utter Amazingness,

You want to meet??! Like, seriously?? Tell me this isn’t a joke, Flower. I’ve wanted this for ages.

I can’t believe you saw the statue.

So you do know Evans, huh. Small world.

Godric’s Hollow? The table where you left your first letter? 5 pm on Monday?

Lots and lots of love,

Effermont

Dear Eff,

Smaller than you might think, actually.

I’ll see you there.

Lots of love,

Flower

Lily was dying of anticipation.

She wasn’t one to tend to hyperbole like that – but this was an extraordinary situation. She was about to meet the man she was head-over-heels in love with. She felt that deserved some exaggeration.

It was four fifty-five on Monday. Lily had her book bag swung over her shoulder, too wrecked with nerves to go back to her apartment post classes.

She was going to meet Eff!

She. Was. Going. To. Meet. Her. Pen-Pal.

It still wouldn’t quite sink in.

She sat on a bench across the road from the café, with the table they were supposed to meet at well within view. She wasn’t willing to be seen as – well, desperate, and reach first, and she wanted to have a chance to assess after she was blindsided by information.

Lily liked to be in control of things.

It was why she found herself so extremely annoyed when James Potter of all people sat in at the table, moments after she’d taken her own seat. Why did he have to pick now to come to Godric’s? And that particular seat?

Eff would come soon and ask him to move away, she thought hopefully. She kept a keen eye out for anyone approaching that particular table, but no one did.

Bitterness welled deep in her twenty minutes into the wait. She couldn’t believe Eff had stood her up like this. It was ridiculous. He’d seemed so excited in his letter. Even Albus had chuckled to her about it. Had something gone wrong on his side? Was he perhaps waiting, not wanting to eject someone from their seat?

Nah. He was too arrogant for that.

Impulsively, she stood and made her way to that table. Maybe there was a note? Another letter?

“Evans!” Potter – squeaked, flailing about undignifiedly. He was always so odd around her. She despised him, but he seemed to waver between awkward and sleazy around her. Which was a pity. He wasn’t bad looking and Mary kept insisting he’d grown up since high school.

Lily didn’t really see how bullies grew up.

“Potter.” she said shortly.

“Did you, uh, want the table?” Potter stood up quickly, hands in his pockets. She could understand that. Lily hated sitting when someone was looming over her. She opened her mouth to tell him to keep the table when: “I was just waiting for someone—”

Dread encapsulated her. Dots which she really didn’t need at that moment connected. “Who?” She asked urgently.

He blinked at her. “Who?” She asked again, impatient and nervous and scared and excited and disgusted and anxious and apprehensive all at once.

“Just a, er, friend— we’ve never met before so this was the meeting place we decided – but she’s late—”

“A pen-pal?” She asked quietly. “Eff?”

Wonder took over his face. He smiled blindingly, hand lifting as though to touch her face before he put it down. “Flower?” He said quietly.

They stared at one another for a moment.

“I can’t believe it’s you—” He laughed lightly.

James Potter. James Potter. The one who’d tugged on her pigtails and dumped paint all over her and teased her about her drawing and told her she was beautiful and amazing and relentlessly persecuted Sev and partnered with her for a Science Project and won the lacrosse championship for their school.

James Potter.

Was Eff. Effermont. Who was always cheerful, had ready jokes, was arrogantly charming, a shoulder for her to cry on, and was the one person she trusted and relied on most.

Whom she was in love with.

Feeling suffocated and trapped all of a sudden, she turned. “I can’t either,” she snapped curtly, walking briskly outside.

“Hey, Evans? What – where are you – Flower!”

Ignoring the urge to stop at the final call, she jogged back home, burying the need to cry deep inside.

“I. . . Don’t get it, Lils.” Mary said, frowning. “So the pen-pal you were head-over-heels for turns out to be a guy with a great bod and an even better brain? What’s to whine about?”

Lily stared at her best friend disbelievingly. “You don’t get it? Mare! It’s James Potter! I’m in love with James Potter!”

“Yeah. So?”

“It’s. . .” Lily couldn’t help it; she got up and began to pace. “It’s so. . . Confusing, I guess. I mean. I didn’t like Potter. I still don’t like him, frankly.”

“Oh, not this again,” Mary groaned. “Come on, Lily. Haven’t you been dragging this high school feud long enough?”

“He was an asshole!” Lily raged. “He bullied Sev!”

“Who gave back every bit he got,” she pointed out. “Look, I’m not saying Potter was right to do it, ganging up on Snape and doing all those awful things to him. It was terrible. It was wrong. But. . . It was years ago. You got to know Potter in a completely new, objective way. And you fell in love with him. Doesn’t that say something?”

Lily scowled, turning away from her friend. It did. It said several things.

It wasn’t as though she’d only hated Potter, even back then in high school. He’d asked her out repetitively during that one phase. He’d managed to cheer her up with his dumb jokes more than one time. He’d been an excellent partner for that one project they’d been paired up for. He’d been the only one who could keep up with her in the Debate Team – they’d used to argue until they were breathless, chests heaving.

Knowing Potter had been exhilarating even then. He was a constantly tempestuous ride, and she’d never known which side she was about to get – awkward Potter who couldn’t string together a sentence around her, the coolly confident one who teased and argued with her, the passionate jock she’d cheer on in the field, the bullying toerag who got off on the misery of others.

He was a dichotomy. Always.

But she’d never once gotten that vibe from Eff. Could he be arrogant, condescending, disregarding of others’ feelings occasionally and accidentally? Sure. But he was a good man at heart. Lily wouldn’t have set up a meeting if she didn’t believe that.

But Eff being James Potter. . .

And she was The Unattainable Angel. She, Lily Evans! She couldn’t believe it. And she couldn’t deny that thought made her heart flutter in a way it hadn’t in years.

Her mind made the decision quickly. “Okay. Yes. You’re right.” Her heart was pounding.

“I cannot believe you said that!” Mary cheered. “The Best To-Be Lawyer and Judge in the world said I’m right! Woohoo! Where’s my phone, I need to record this.”

“Shut up.” Lily rolled her eyes, ducking her head at the compliments. “But. . . I don’t have his number. What do I do? What if he hates me? What if—”

“Lil. Chill. That guy isn’t capable of hating you,” Mary said reassuringly. “And you have his best mate’s number. Call Lupin. Ask him to . . . I don’t know, connect you with Potter.”

“Okay,” Lily breathed, rubbing at her chest. “Okay. Thanks, Mare. You’re the best.”

“I know.” Her friend smiled smugly. “Go get him, girl!”

Hey, she texted Remus.

Hey, came a text back, only five minutes later. What’s up?

Can you send me Potter’s number? She asked without preamble.

There were the three dots, indicating he was typing. Then they disappeared. And reappeared.

You really hurt him, Lily, was the final message.

She stared at it. Tapped on the screen while she figured out her reply.

I know. I want to make up for it.

There. She thought that conveyed the sentiment, even though the phrasing was awkward and not her best. She just. . . Really couldn’t think about anything. Love had that effect.

There was no reply in words – just a number. Heart pounding, she sent him a thank you before saving Potter’s number in her mobile and starting to message him.

She went through several drafts in her head before she decided he would appreciate casualness the best.

Hi, Eff, she sent. I’m so sorry about today. Do over?

As Her Floweriness commands, was the reply, setting her at ease the way only he could do. The main fountain on the school campus okay with you, Evans? Tomorrow evening, 7:00?

Absolutely. See you then, Potter.

No running away this time?

Definitely not.

And it was done. Lily rolled over in her bed, grabbing her pen and journal, an idea striking her.

There was no better way.

She sat on the fountain, watching the water spring from the funnel, tired and excited and scared. Snow fell around her, landing softly. It was only fair, Lily supposed, that she be the one to wait this time. Still. It wasn’t easy.

“Evans,” someone breathed, and Lily spun around hastily, nearly tripping into the water. He caught her, one hand around her waist and the other grabbing hers. “Easy there.”

She froze, tingling sensations spreading from the place his hands touched. She wanted to stay there forever. She wanted to rip herself away. She turned to him slowly. “Potter.”

He let go of her, stuffing his hands in his pockets, the corners of his eyes crinkling. She felt oddly bereft.

“I, um—”

“Maybe we should—”

They paused, having started speaking at the same time. Lily cleared her throat. “I. Wrote this for you.” She thrust her letter at him.

He blinked at it. “Wow.” Why didn’t he take it? Did he hate her? Did he not want it? Did he have some other idea of how this was going to go? Was he— “That’s weird. I wrote a letter for you too.” He took something out of his pocket: an envelope.

They stared at one another. She couldn’t believe they’d had the same idea. It was ridiculous. Connecting. Soulmating, if she believed in those crap romance novels Eliza liked to read. Hand trembling, she reached out to take his. They exchanged envelopes.

Lily tore her eyes from his face to the letter in her hands.

Lily-Flower,

Thanks for running away, Evans. I really needed that. Real nice of you—

Sorry about that. Just. . . Got a bit angry.

Hey, Flower. I can’t believe you’re Lily Evans. The girl I’ve been pining over like an idiot since high school. Yes, you can gasp in shock and recoil in disgust. Doesn’t change the fact that I’ve got a massive crush on you.

No. That doesn’t sum it up.

I am absolutely, utterly, horrendously in love with you.

I don’t have the way with words you do. So. . . I’m not sure how. . . I guess I was halfway there even with my friend and pen-pal Flower. Padfoot, Moony and Wormtail always used to get these looks on their faces whenever I told them about the letters. But I was too hung up on you, Evans. You were. Well. You were The Unattainable Angel after all.

First and foremost, you’re my friend. And you don’t have to be. If you never want to see me again, call quits on the letters, that’s fine. I just hope you read this. One last letter from Effermont to Flower, eh?

I guess I can tell you why I picked that name now. My mum’s name is Euphemia. And you know my dad’s name is Fleamont. It was a kind of combination of their names. Plus, it sounds a bit like effeminate – which, I know is sometimes used as a slur, but you thought I was a girl when we first began writing. It was a joke.

A mean one. I know. I thought a lot about why you ran away like that. I was angry. Hurt. Still am, honestly. But I guess I can understand. I know you, Flower. I know you pretty well. So I can understand you running away to deal with your emotions.

I just hope you don’t mind this contact.

I haven’t. . . Always been the best person. I know that. And I don’t think I would have liked the person I would have turned out to be if I had continued like that. It’s. Hard. I was always arrogant, entitled, and jealous and bullying. . . And. It’s hard to describe.

And I know you hated me back then in high school, especially when I asked you out – which was all serious, by the way. I know you thought that me making a production of it was because it was a joke. It wasn’t.

Your hating me’s your prerogative, obviously.

I suppose I understand reconciling your friend with someone you loathe is hard.

Anyway. I’m just writing this to say. . . It’s okay. Whatever you want to do.

And I am still as in love with you as ever, Lily Evans. I didn’t need you to sing in the assembly like Peeta did (I hope you appreciate me making an Everlark reference). I just am. Have been for ages. Seems, at this point, like I always will be.

Yours,

Eff James Potter

Lily swallowed. She lowered the letter, looking at Potter. His face was intent, hopeful, wary. He was obviously done with her letter, folding it over and over in his hands.

“Since high school?” She whispered. “All those times. . . You were serious?”

He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, Lily. I really, really was.”

He was calling her Lily now, she noticed vaguely. “You said whatever I want to do, you’re okay with it,” she said.

A flash of uncertainty. “Yeah. ‘Course. I meant that. Still do.” he assured her.

“And you don’t understand from my letter what that would be?” She asked, tone slightly teasing.

“Weeeeeell. . .” He dragged out the word, smirking a lopsided grin that made him very attractive. “You could stand to be a bit clearer.”

“Okay,” she said softly, walking closer to him. She could see the way snow fell on his head, the way the droplets clung to his lashes. The way his eyes, the golden flecks in the hazel, softened when they landed on her. “I am ardently, steadfastly, horrendously in love with you, Eff. James Potter.”

And she leaned up and kissed him.

He gasped, still for a moment, before kissing back. The pressure was electric. It was comforting. It was warmth, in the snowy winter around them. His arm came up against her back, lightly pressing, supporting. Her hands trailed up to his shoulders.

They parted, saying nothing for a long moment, staring at one another softly. James cleared his throat. “You’ve – got some snow here,” he patted it off her shoulder gently, letting his hand linger, his thumb brushing her collarbone.

She shivered, not entirely due to the cold. “Ugh. I hate snow.” She complained, still lightheaded from the kissing. “I loathe the winter.”

He smiled, a small quirk of his lips. “Yeah, I know.” He took her hand bringing it up to his lips. “Not only bad things happen in winter, though.”

She felt her own face light up in response, curling her hand with his, interlocking their fingers. “I suppose not.” Lily replied. “You still can’t say anything good about the snow though.”

“She says to the snow artist. . .”

And they bickered, walking hand-in-hand through the snow.

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socratesvisitsarcadia · 4 months ago

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Returning to Trollmarket

Both sisters walked through the threshold to Trollmarket, breathing in the ancient scents that had been gaining character for the past centuries. The crystal stairs shone upon the first step, lighting the way down. Yet another wave of nostalgia coursed through them.

“It's so nice to see that again!” Suniva chuckled, summoning her wings to her back, the light from the crystals reflecting the golden scales.

“It really is! So much and yet so little has changed!” Avaluna agreed, bringing forth her wings as well, taking a moment to caress and fix her black feathers. “Shall we?”

Before an answer, Suniva jumped, gliding down the steps with her older sister behind her. It was soon until an old troll came into view, with twisted horns and a white beard iconic to his figure. As they settled on the ground once more, smiles overtook their faces as they met with Vendel.

“Avaluna, Suniva! Welcome back to Hearthstone Trollmarket!” He announced, gently bowing down towards them.

The duo gave a courteous bow in return, before swiftly moving to give the old goat a hug. “It is great to be back, Vendell.”

“Yes!! We’re so excited!” Suniva clapped and hopped in place with some giggles coming through her smile. “Now! Is the trollhunter here?”

“Not yet. Apparently he has ‘more important things’ during the day.” Vendel scoffed, turning around and beginning his path through the underground.

“Well, according to your letter, he IS young. And according to Blinkous’ letters, he is at the age where humans start taking a lot of responsibilities.” Avaluna defended, following side by his side.

15 years old, dragged into a magical world. She and her sister had the luck of being raised next to magic, but to be dragged out of nowhere into a world you believed never existed was something harder than many believed. Suniva was also quick to fight to the boy’s defense, frowning upon the distain of who was once their kind.

“And also Vendel, don’t sound so defeated! This is a brand new experience! Just like with all trollhunters, he shall be trained in the art of fighting and soon, he might be the strongest defender of trollkind yet! He just needs some extra guidance!” She puffed her chest, standing at Vendel’s other side. “Everything will be right at the end!”

“You have spent a bit with humans, have you now, Suniva?”

“Well, unlike my sister, I do enjoy spending time in the sun!”

“Now, you must understand sister, I have not much need for the sun as you might have guessed!” Avaluna retorts, pointing to her own pale complexion. “But I AM glad you enjoy the sun!”

Suniva giggled, rushing ahead and gazing out into Trollmarket in all its glory. She grinned, finding new faces and old in the crowd. Basking in the warmth of the Hearthstone, she smiled.

“It's lively as ever!”

Vendell nodded, guiding both sisters through the crowd of trolls and younglings, some of which turned their heads upon sight of them. Whispers quickly grew in the crowd, some louder than others. Although Avaluna stuck closer to the headmaster, she had her ears just as much on Vendel as on all else. She waved at them, they waved back, the warmth and welcome feeling she had missed for 300 years.

As the lunar sister walked, one spot, in particular, caught her eyes, a smile bright as a full moon crossed her face as she excused herself. Heading to a shop she knew all too well.

“Would perhaps this store be open?” She queried, browsing through the new products.

The sound of crashing and the voice of the owner brought a chuckle from the oldest sister. “OH!! Oh!! I know that voice!!”

Bagdwella came rushing out of the shop, the moment her eyes fell upon the black-haired, a squeal (or squawk, depending on who you ask) escaped her throat as she brought the wizard into a tight hug. All of Avaluna’s spine segments popped, bringing relief, whilst the spinning made her a bit dizzy.

“OH JOY!! OH, JOY!! THE SISTERS HAVE RETURNED!! OUR WIZARDS ARE HOME!!!”

“It is good to see you too Baggy!... Please stop spinning however, I am getting dizzy-”

At the same moment, the troll shopkeeper put her down. “My apologies, Luny! I just could not contain my happiness is all!”

Vendell and Suniva reached the shop and the owner was quick to give Suniva the same treatment, the warm, and very tight, troll welcome they were used to. Soon, they were surrounded by the inhabitants of trollmarker, all biding their greetings properly to the sisters.

As per their teachings, they greeted all with respect and kindness. It wasn’t long before that was interrupted though, by none other than the son of Kanjigar.

Drall charged, pushing aside bystanders and reaching the sisters. More specifically, reaching his favorite sun wizard. “SU!! NI!! VA!!!”

“DRALL!!!”

He tackled her and rolled on the ground, striking other trolls in front of them like bowling balls. The woman was unharmed, laughing as she pulled on his horns for the recklessness. The older sister and the elder shared a glance, Vendell sighed, Avaluna was a tad confused at the reaction but left it to simply enjoy the reunion.

“PEBBLE BRAINS! Look at you, training a lot I see!” Suniva smiles, climbing to the crystal back’s shoulder.

“And you?! Not a ‘couch potato’ anymore huh!” He spat back, playfully poking her.

Suniva instantly grabs his finger, pulls it on, and brings his arm behind his back. Swiftly, with a quiet movement of her feet, she threw him over her body and slammed the 8-foot-tall troll onto his back. Miraculously, he did not break any of his crystals as he hit the ground.

“And you’re not as sharp on your reactions as you once were!” Drall tried getting back at her, but she hopped out of the way of his swipe. “I’m ahead now!”

“Oh, I will get you back for it!” He assured, chuckling.

Vendell finally intervened, approaching the two and putting his staff between them. “I supposed, you two have much to recount upon. And knowing one of you specifically,” He turns to Suniva, who rolls her eyes playfully, “It would be best to clear your mind. So go, you have a while until the trollhunter arrives.”

Suniva smiled, flicking Drall in the nose ring and running off, him chasing after her through the crowd. Avaluna watched the exchange, smiling and happy, it was nice to see her sister be playful like that.

“Blinkous is in the library, as always. I am sure you have a lot to talk to him about as well.”

Vendell didn’t turn to her, already walking off.

The wizard took the opportunity, flying towards the direction the headmaster had pointed, smiling as he headed off. He was an old goat, she didn’t expect him to be too cheerful, as he never had truly been.

Flying through Trollmarket was still the same, although now she had to be more careful of the walls covered in wires and plumbing, it wasn’t a bad thing. It showed progress.

#trollhunters #trollhunters oc avaluna #trollhunters oc suniva #trollhunters blinky #vendell #draal the deadly #bagdwella #merlins apprentices

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girljeremystrong · 11 months ago

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hi cat!! i have a favor to ask - would you be able to tell me some of your favorite places/cities/anything in italy? my cousins & i are planning a trip & are a bit overwhelmed with choices haha

YES but first i have to warn you that i have barely scratched the surface of the beauty that's in this country and most importantly i have barely been in the south and on the islands except for i went to naples a decade ago so i can't really recommend anything there which is a shame because the south of italy is INCREDIBLE. for instance my dream is to take a road trip through sicily and wander around for like a month. again i can't really speak on it because i've never been but i think it must be one of the most splendid places in the world and it's full of ancient greek architecture and the sea is wonderful and the cities are full of beautiful art and i can't wait to go and see it all with my own eyes.

of course i live in tuscany and specifically near florence and i think florence is the best of the best in the whole world and i think you should definitely go and see it. but also it's a small-ish city and while exploring it fully would take a lifetime i think if your goal is to visit a few places and cities in the same holiday you can probably get away with spending like four days in florence and then go somewhere else! places that i think you should definitely visit while in florence are: the uffizi galleries of course, orsanmichele (i got chocked up the first time i visited because it's so beautiful and the views of the city are stunning), the cathedral of santa maria del fiore where you can decide if you want to climb up the bell tower or the dome (or both if you're very fit!) and i particularly love the medici chapels and the museum galleria palatina in palazzo pitti. and everything is in the city center so it's easy to walk everywhere and walking everywhere you'll be able to see the piazza della signoria with our most beautiful palazzo vecchio and the ponte vecchio!

while you're in florence you might want to go to a few nearby places like you could take an hour train to pisa where you honestly just need a couple hours to bask in the glory of the piazza dei miracoli (which houses the famous crooked tower but also a gorgeous cathedral and baptistery). very near florence (like a short bus ride away) is fiesole which is a cutie little mini town where you can get one beautiful view over florence and also see etruscan/roman excavations and ruins including a beautiful roman theater! also near florence but slightly harder to reach is certaldo where one of the fathers of italian literature was born and which is famous nowadays for being gorgeous and old and having a beautiful beautiful palazzo pretorio. siena is almost a must see in my opinion and it's a train ride away from florence and it is just a beauty. so incredible. further south we have two absolutely stunning little gems called san gimignano and volterra which you might know from twilight SHDJDKJF but no seriously they are so beautiful and you eat so well there and both are so worth seeing.

liguria is just north of tuscany and i know it a little. i think of course that cinque terre are incredible and so italian and great but i will add that a little seaside town called portovenere should absolutely be added to the itinerary if you're gonna be close because it's beautiful and it houses one of the best things i have ever seen in my life which is byron grotto (yes like the poet! apparently he would swim out of there to go reach shelley?) which is soooo gorgeous.

so like. i don't know because i am biased and i was born and raised here but i think tuscany (and that corner of liguria) is the most beautiful gorgeous and perfect little triangle of land in the whole world and if you're coming to italy from everywhere else i think that's the first place you should visit.

of course milan and rome and turin and naples and venice are all incredible and worth of a (long) visit and i have found such beauty and met incredible people and been left speechless by what i've seen in each of those cities but maybe that's for another post and also i definitely do not know them nearly as well as i know florence but i think you would love to visit them.

IN CONCLUSION. i don't know that this will have clared your head in any way at all. it's a bit all over the place. i love florence and i love tuscany but italy is beautiful in every corner in every way!

#honestly i don't think that this is helpful at all LMAO #sorry but please do send another ask if you want to know anything about anything i would love to help you!#ask #anonymous

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marysunburn · 2 years ago

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A cup of hope for Azir

After a few weeks at camp, recovering and re-learning to live as a... well, as a person (bird) at this point, Azir calls his retinue to him and sits them in a circle. He's wearing what has become his typical outfit, a soft dressing gown embroidered in Taliyah's people's style, and he's going to miss it a lot once he puts on his new armor, half-elm – he can't take a full helm, not after... we know what – and cape for his imperial tour.

-From the next day forward, we're going to depart to the confines of Shurima, so I may reclaim my throne and put an end to the conflicts that have befallen it after my... my dreadful Ascension.-

There he goes again, Taliyah thinks. Me, me, my empire, my glory, I'm so cool, great Azir marvelous he and so forth.

-I've been blessed with a second chance to start anew, and as such feel as if it's in my and everyone's best interests to do things... differently this time around. This is why I have you here: to compensate for any blind spot and widen my point of view, so I may always do better. Six eyes, six minds... one heart.-

Even Sivir has stopped looking at her nails, which she'd often do when Azir calls his retainers around him, and it takes one elbow jab from Akshan for her to close his mouth. Did Azir hit his head?

And everyone's surprise rises when Azir shifts to the side the train of his dressing gown and reveals a flask and a bejeweled cup. He pours the flask into the cup, filling it with rich red wine, and shows it around with the ceremonial gestures he knows so well.

-From the moment we drink from this cup... this will make us one. We'll share our troubles and trials, bask in the same light... and I swear on my ancestral home, no voice will be left unheard.-

He takes a hefty sip of wine, then passes the cup to Nasus, who passes it on to Taliyah, and Samira, and Akshan, and when Sivir gives it back to him, it's empty. She touches his hands for a moment, stroking them with the tip of her fingers, and even though he's dizzy for the wine – he hasn't drunk for more than a year – he can see a glimpse of a smile in her eyes.

Taliyah, who doesn't like wine and just took a small lick, also can't stop staring at Azir. Whatever he's endured in the clutches of Xerath, it's rubbed away all his pride. And as it pains her to think it – she doesn't condone torture, even if it's against imperialistic tyrants, and Xerath's torture was less about making Azir pay for his tyranny and more a personal revenge for someone he hates – but she likes the new Azir much, much better.

Oh, well... she cannot turn back time to make so it didn't happen. But she can help him, and heal him, and maybe show him that not being an ABSOLUTE GOD-EMPEROR WITH ABSOLUTE POWER is cool actually.

As for Azir himself... well, he's never felt stronger.

#lol #league of legends #emperor azir #azir #omah azir #nasus #sivir #akshan #samira #taliyah #Azir's retinue (including himself) is six people #the seventh could either be K'Sante or Renekton #either way there MUST be a seventh #seven is the perfect number #azir's new groove

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gcldencrownofsorrow · 2 years ago

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notenoughmuses:

He’s unaware of his wifes feelings as he feels her arms wrapping around tightly and he embraces her back as well. “I want you to think of names as well. I mean after all women get a say, though I always got the impression father was more strict on the naming than some men. Mother seemed happy in her last moments naming Dany herself though.” Viserys mumbles the last bit and his tone is sad as he reminiscences.

He presses himself close to his wife and feels where the baby would be and gives a soft smile. “I never thought I would want to be a father, but I never wanted to be King either….i’m figuring it out slowly though. I promise i’ll try to be a good father”

He thinks back to how Rhaegar was as a father, the little time Viserys got to see that, and he shudders at the memory of Rhaegar’s stories of their father and the few times Viserys would lament about not being able to go to Tourneys or have name day gifts, how controlling and mean father could be at times. Rhaegar always told him one day it would get better, but he didn’t know what he meant by that until now. The day it got better was the day he was free from his father and became one himself. Though he wondered if he himself would become Aerys. Would he turn cruel and abusive? Would he torment Cersei and their children? Surely he wouldn’t.

“I love you Cersei. I’m excited and nervous. Whatever you want or need, you can have. I’ll import the finest things from Essos even.” He rose on his tiptoes, hoping to give Cersei a soft peck on her cheek if she would allow it. “I want the best maesters and midwives.” He adds, his tone stern and demanding, not taking no on that for he doesn’t wish his wife to suffer the fate either of their mother did. “We should get going, the people will be wondering if we’ve skipped out on the festivities”

He speaks of Rhaella dying in the birthing bed, and Cersei is only half paying attention. THAT too was a risk that she would have to face. that she might end up like both their mothers, dead and gone before her time. in the effort of bringing another human into the world. She wonders, briefly, if Jaime might follow her into the grave if she were to die before him. and concludes that likely he would. leaving their child entirely at the mercy of Viserys’ court. I will not have that. Rhaella was weak. and mother birthed a monster. The Lioness thinks. I will not have them treat my child as we treat Viserys. i will not die and leave him to be a pawn.

She leans forward, so her height is at a level with his, allowing him to kiss her, she’d need that devotion if she wanted to keep him in her grasp if she wanted to remain in power now where her father was back in King’s landing.

“Of course, you’re right my love.” she says brushing her elegant fingers down along his pale cheek. he’s grown, if only a little. while he was gone. She realizes, studying his sharp targaryen features. His eyes are not as deep as Rhaegar’s, where his brother had been deep and full of sorrow. Viserys’ eyes were bright. and with a hint of Determination. he’s being sincere, when he says he wants to be a father to this child. “You must not let the court wait. they’re longing to celebrate your victory.”

She takes him by the hand and walks him to the great hall to bask in the glory of his defeat of the ironborn. She can feel her brother’s eyes on her. and knows he expects her to come to him. She’s not ready to face his accusatory eyes. or to listen to him ask her to LEAVE with him. A romantic Fool, that’s what Jamie was. Had always been. and every time it’s HARDER to say no to him.to break his heart. Surely the baby will prompt him to ask again. and she cannot do it. not tonight. when she just had him back. So she stays close to her little husband. cooing at him, giving him advice. even dancing with him although she towers over him. all in an effort to avoid being alone with her twin.

#notenoughmuses #notenoughmuses; Viserys

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shiyorin · 2 years ago

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Some sneak peek from req fics for my friends recently. I won't post full all the fics in here.

All of my friends are primarch/space marine fucker :v

(Their oc's name has been changed)

You stretched languidly against Fulgrim's chest, purring softly as slender fingers traced idly over pale skin. Such pleasures as these were fleeting, but for now the Phoenician was content to simply bask, as was their way.

"You continue to surprise, little plaything," Fulgrim mused, voice a rumble of dark velvet. His gaze traced the lines of your form with possessive pride. They had created such sublime works of art together, and would again.

"And you know I live only to surprise, my lord." You purred in reply, twisting to pepper soft kisses along Fulgrim's jaw. "To push each limit, as only I am able. Our amusements have only just begun."

Fulgrim huffed a slight laugh, curling up a lock of your hair around winding fingers. "Ever the coquette, as befitting one who moves as shadow. But know this, my dark muse, none shall claim your hand but I." His grip tightened warningly, as if to remind this amoral creature who held dominion over their perverse revels.

You merely nuzzled into the hold, grinning with feline cheer. Fulgrim's possessiveness was pleasing in its own way. And so their decadent idyll continued, careless of stellar fate or the Turning of the Great Wheel. In these stolen moments, they knew only sensual delight and sinister mirth. The games were never ending.

_________________

You curled against Perturabo's side, tracing scars on the traitor's chest. His skin bore the scars of infinite wars and conspiracies, a map of cynicism calcified into bitter flesh.

Perturabo's hand came to rest on your hip, clutching with a grim familiarity. Holding on as if to something that had once brought solace but now only reminded of all that had been lost to cruelty or indifference.

They were well-matched in their anguish. Two souls who had long since abandoned hope or purpose beyond proving, again and again, how much joy and meaning had fled this world. What once brought crusades and glory now only fetid carnage and rot.

You nuzzled against Perturabo, finding a hollow cheer in the scratch of old scars against new marks left by nails and teeth. A memento to hold when no longer sate, and all that remained was plunging into bleaker depths.

Perturabo said nothing, as was his habit. Words were the tools of fools, full of lies and false hope. Only in the rapture of flesh could meaning be glimpsed, however fleeting. And in its passing, anguish reclaimed what was always its own.

As were your way, you knows that Perturabo would remain, as he always had.

_________________

Mephiston grit his teeth, unable to look away from your sinuous movements. Each slender limb sliding free of silk and lace seemed to unveil further corruption latticed into flesh.

You sighed, dusky skin and shadows alike rippling as he slowly turned. His throat arched, Adam's apple bobbing, and Mephiston swallowed hard against a surge of yearning. Memories threatening to overtake him, of lips tracing that vulnerable curve and teeth sinking in, marking possession.

He shook himself, knuckles cracking, and gripped the arm of his throne until the pain centered his wandering thoughts. This was a torture, not seduction. There would be no pleasure to be found in your decadence, only a sin at the anguish of noble souls.

You stop. Your gaze was a languid caress, tracing the lines of Mephiston's form as a connoisseur might appraise some rare beauty. Lips twitching in a smile devoid of joy or warmth.

Mephiston trembled, rage and longing curdling within. This corruption had no right to such pulchritudinous grace. No right to make sin seem so sinfully Sweet.

You shrugged, delicate shoulders rising and falling in a sigh. "Your resolve seems weakened. Shall I continue?"

Mephiston hissed, gripping the arms of his throne until the carved stone groaned under his fingers. "Stop now!"

Your smile widened. "My dear Mephiston? Whatever for?"

You slid into a sinuous bow, gloved hands tracing the contours of his thighs in a macabre parody of modesty. "My anguished friend…."

_______________

The sight of you moving with that peculiar grace through the halls of the Fortress-Monastery stirred thoughts in Dorn that had no place dwelling within. As Primarch of the Imperial Fists, duty and discipline were his oaths to uphold, but whenever you were near, other hungers seemed to awaken.

Your presence was a balm, yet also torment. your calm, shadowed beauty a reminder of all he could never have. His devotion was to the Imperium, and to his legion, yet in private moments his thoughts drifted to more lustfull.

Dorn found himself contemplating how that grace and power might manifest in other place. How your composure might shatter under the right touches and tongues. What other sounds might escape those lips, so oft silent, if permitted utterance.

There were nights he woke sweating, arousal pulsing, remembering the feel of your gaze tracing his skin. Nights he thought he heard, in memory, the gasps and sighs of your pleasure mixing with his own.

Guilt would invariably follow such fantasies, yet still he seemed unable to forswear them. His devotion to duty wars with this new, corrupt hunger that knew no restraint.

He found himself wanting to claim you, not for honor or purpose, but for the sake of claiming. To make this shadow, this weapon, his, if only for a night. To know you as something more than a grim tool or a balm for loneliness. Flesh, not fate, binding them.

There were whispers here of corruption, yet still Dorn walks his path. A Primarch beset by dual hungers, in endless conflict. Honor and sin, duty and decadence, at war within his soul. All for the sake of a assassin who'd never know his heart, were it laid bare.

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chezzywezzy · 3 years ago

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Yandere Billy & Stu pt. 2 (1/4)

Word count ; 4.0k

*Edited.

I twisted the faucet off, taking one final glance around the shop. No more cars would be rolling in during lunch since it was lunch break. It was always a pleasant time around the shop; not because I was lazy, but because my boss, Ralph, and I got along well. We were good friends. We always had lunch together and bantered and watched television. It was a nice, normal part of my day.

I went over to the small side office and invited myself right in. Ralph was already there, bald head and dad bod basking in its glory. He was already munching on a home-packed lunch his husband always made in the morning. He gave me a hearty, mouth-full grunt as I entered.

I sat myself in the seat across from him. A small smile stretched across my face as I reached for the bag my mom always packed for me. The television had yet to be turned on. Ralph was always polite and waited for me to join him. Ralph was nice.

“‘Afternoon, Ralph,” I greeted.

Ralph sent me a grin - I failed to point out the food stuck in his teeth - and replied, ”’Sup. You know, my kiddo’s picked up this new slang term. Sup or what’s up. She said there’s a difference and tried explaining it to me and everything, but it flew right over my head, you know?”

“Well, she didn’t explain it right,” I chuckled. “What’s up is a question. ‘Sup is a greeting.”

He pursed his lips. “Darn. This old brain of mine’s gonna forget that by three.”

He reached for the remote and turned it on. We both fell silent, waiting for the other to show interest. A crab documentary; the weather station; a live concert; a basketball match. I was about to pipe up and mention that the basketball match might be interesting, but Ralph automatically paused on the a news station with a ‘Breaking News’ transition rolling across the screen.

I noisily unwrapped my sandwich, eyes glued to the television. A man and a woman came on screen. Both tensely clutched a pile of papers in their hands. The woman started, ”Early this morning at five-thirty-three, there was a mass prison riot and breakout in one of California’s largest detention centers.”

The man continued, ”The police have yet to discover who was the man strategist, however, it was clear that almost half the prison was in on it.” Some images flashed on screen of the said prison. “Many dangerous criminals managed to escape.”

“Some of them included,” the woman listed, ”Scott Watson, Malcolm Rewa, Mark Lundy, and Peter Tyson. The police have inferred that many of them have either taken refuge in national parks or stole nearby cars.”

“If you have any information on these criminals–“ A long, scrolling list of names appeared on screen–”please tell your local police department immediately. The recapture of these criminals and the safety of the public is dire.”

My brain finally started connecting the dots. A California prison filled with dangerous criminals. Could Bi - they have been a part of the escapees?

Just the thought made my entire body grow numb. The sandwich fell out of my fingers and onto the table. I hardly noticed Ralph changing the channel.

“ -/n. You alright, kiddo?”

I jumped in my seat, breaking out of my trance. Unsurely, I replied, ”Uh, yeah.”

He flashed me another grin. “Hey, don’t worry about that, kiddo. W’re all the way up here in Nevada. It’s not like there’s a reason you’d be targeted, eh?”

“…Right. No, yeah, right.” I picked up my sandwich again.

“Not much on right now. Basketball‘ll have to do,” he conceded, switching the channel back.

A comfortable silence fell over us. I managed to finish the sandwich and was about to reach for my apple when the phone suddenly rang. Ralph reached over and picked it up.

“‘Ello?”

A few seconds later, he handed the phone to me. “It’s yer mom,” he said.

Worriedly, I took the phone. She never called me during work. With furrowed brows, I greeted, ”Hey, mom, what’s up?”

“Well, I. - I was just watching the news!” she cried, the distress in her voice obvious. “A California prison break! Those bastards were in some California prison. For all we knew, they could be out there now, aching to —“

“Mom! Mom, it’s okay,” I interrupted, trying to keep my voice steady. Although I had the exact same concerns, I had to keep level-headed. Mom hadn’t been doing well since the accident; she had to quit her job because of injuries and her mental health plummeted. She became even more paranoid and was a total shut-in now. That was fine and I understood, but it served as a permanent reminder of what happened back in Woodsboro. I wanted nothing more than to sweep the memories of that hell under a rug and pretend it never happened. “Listen, if it’ll calm your nerves, I’ll stop by the police after lunch and ask which prison they were detained in. Even if… they somehow escaped… there’s no way they could find us. Alright?”

By this point, Ralph looked incredibly concerned. He’d halted his eating and was listening to the conversation intently.

“Please, be safe, Y/n. I couldn’t live without you. Promise me - if they escaped, we have to move.”

“That’s a bit drastic —“

“Promise. Me.”

I bit my lip, sending Ralph an unsure glance. “Listen, we can talk about it when I get home. We might be totally overreacting, alright? You should relax, mom. Watch some Golden Girls reruns to let out some steam, okay?”

“…Fine. I love you, honey. Be safe.”

“I love you too, mom.”

I reached across the table and returned the phone to the receiver. All of my worries had been doubled. I know my mom wasn’t the most mentally stable, but she was also just as intelligent and ingenious.

I didn’t have time to think as Ralph spoke up, ”Is everything ‘right? I know your mom’s not doing too well right now, but… is there someone who escaped from that prison?”

I bit my lip and cast my gaze away. “Well… possibly. They’re the reason we moved in the first place and the reason why mom can’t work and all that shazam…”

Ralph frowned. “Listen, it’s a Wednesday afternoon. Nobody with a work life comes in for a repair on a Wednesday afternoon. How about you take it off and go check on your mom and everything? Don’t worry, it’ll be a paid absence. The shop’s doing well.”

My heart absolutely melted. “Are you sure? I’m more than happy to stay the rest of my shift, though.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Nah. Your mom and your health ‘s important. Think nothing of it, kiddo.”

I smiled. “Thank you so much, Ralph. This means the world to me. I promise this’ll be taken care of by tomorrow.” I packed up my lunch remains and trash and grabbed my other bag that was slung across the back of the seat. My actions were rushed, betraying my anxiety.

Ralph and I bid our good-byes and I rushed out of the car mechanics shop.

~~~

“Well, Miss L/n, you’re in luck,” the officer answered. “Our system takes a while to update, but it says here that they’re located in another California prison. The only way they could have been a part of the escape riot was if they were transferred in the last week. The system updates every week. If there’s any noticeable changes in their profile in a few days, I’ll give you a call.”

I let out a sigh of relief as my entire body filtered out the tenseness. I set the phone back on the receiver. Mom finally gave me some distance, as she had been hovering behind me the entire phone call. Her distress had shrank by multitudes, but I could sense that she was still worried.

“They - they must’ve been transferred in the last week, honey. We have to go —“

I grabbed her before she could rush away to another part of the tiny home. “Mom. I know the possibilities are scary. But they haven’t escaped,” I croaked. I was on the verge of tears not because of fear, but because I couldn’t help but mourn for the woman my mother used to be - strong, moving, and my protector. “Things are okay now. We have to let go and move on. Everything’s good now. You’re allowed to breathe.”

She jerked her hand away, scowling. Her hands gripped at her thin hair and she buckled over completely. She let out a mangled scream, shaking. “That’s not true. Please, Y/n, listen to me. The system hasn’t updated —“

“Mom,” I pleaded, grabbing her from behind and pulling her into a hug. “We’re okay. We’re fine.”

She turned and began sobbing into my shoulder. My heart ached, but I pulled her over to the small couch, sitting us both down. Her sobs were muffled in my sweatshirt. I let her drown in her sorrows, her nails digging into my back desperately. Oh, how my heart ached for the woman she once was. The woman who could climb Mount Everest without fear. The woman who could be attacked at work but survive the trauma.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” she cried. “I should have spent more time with you. I should have protected you from those devils. I wish I could now. I’m nothing but a burden to you.”

“That’s not true, mom,” I sighed. “I love you. I know how you feel and why you feel this way. It’s scary. When you were in the hospital, and I was scared shitless —“

“Language.”

I let out a sudden laugh. “S - sorry, sorry… I just don’t want to lose you. And I won’t. We’re safe now. We’re not victims. They’re in prison and we’re free. We shouldn’t waste time worrying, or they’d just be smug about it.”

“I know you’re right. I just have a bad feeling about it all. I can’t shake it off…”

“It’s stress. It’s PTSD. But it’s not them. They’re locked away in a prison cell seething. Let them rot. But don’t let yourself rot.”

“But - your poor, poor friends. Sidney, that other girl, that boy… All of your classmates, dead,” she heaved. “It could’ve been you next.”

“But it wasn’t. And it won’t be. Mom, we’re alright now. I love you so, so much.”

“I - I love you too, honey.”

She pulled away, wiping her tears with trembling hands. “I… I should get started on dinner. You must be tired. How about you put on Jeopardy?”

“Yeah, no problem.” I squeezed her hand reassuringly one more time, letting her disappear into the small kitchen. I turned on the television and began flipping through the channels. Jeopardy was on.

~~~

I slung my purse over my shoulder just as knocking sounded from my front door. Mom was in the bathroom and I already told her I was going out with Sally and Purdue. I know that she never approved of them, saying they were shallow and uncouth, but… well, I agreed. We met at the local bar, which said enough about our friendship as it was. To say the least, it was the only place we hung out.

I pulled on my shoes and swung the door open. As expected, Sally was driving her expensive sports car that I’d actually worked on a few times. She was very irresponsible and very rich. Purdue had taken the passenger seat, the window rolled down. She was waving at me with her neatly pedicured hands.

I checked my purse for everything one more time before joining them. I slid into the back seat, slinging my arms around the front where Purdue was. She clasped my hands.

“I can’t believe that crazy mom of yours lets you go anywhere,” Sally complained. “My parents are even worse. No idea why. What is it with this generation’s parents being total clingy psychos?”

“Maybe it’s because you’re the reason this car has a permanent dent on its hood,” Purdue sneered.

“It was only a few times! Not my fault I was a little drunk.”

“It’s directly your fault your fault that you were a lot drunk,” I added. “I fear for my life every time I get in the car with you.”

“Ditto.”

Sally pouted and began driving. The local bar wasn’t too far away; it was only a few blocks’ drive, which is why after a night of drinking, I preferred to walk home, especially with Sally at the wheel. Purdue was at least a smidge more responsible than her.

When we entered the bar, we wasted no time warming up with shots. We spared no small talk; it hurt, but we all knew that we didn’t care enough to drawl to one another about our personal lives. ‘How was work?’ or ‘Have you gone on any dates recently?’ were questions that had not once passed any of our lips. It was alright, though; our mutual friendship served one purpose and one purpose only. We were drinking buddies.

“You know, that guy over there keeps looking at you.”

Sally and I peered over our shoulders. A few seats down the bar was a young man with straight black hair and tan skin. The way he held his glass displayed class and soberness, but his clothes were casual and made him blend in with the crowd of rednecks.

He was making eye contact with us - more so, with Sally. I looked back to my glass of bourbon, paying the man no heed. Sally, though, was seemingly entranced with the handsome stranger.

“Don’t tell me you thought he was looking at you for a second, did you, Y/n?” Purdue giggled, swatting my hand playfully from a seat away. Sally was sitting between us, but Purdue’s long arms and two inch nails scratched my skin.

Sally bit her lip, downing the rest of her beer. “God, and here I was, thinking that you two ugly bitches made me look so bad guys stopped being interested,” she giggled.

I rolled my eyes at her drunken arrogance. “Well, from one ugly bitch to another, why don’t you go talk to him?” I recommended, waving at her dismissively.

Purdue nudged her shoulder. “Yeah, bitch. Go get yourself a man, why don’t you? The plastic surgery’s clearly done you some good.”

Sally gasped, feigning offense, but hopped out of her seat. Purdue and I watched eagerly as she strolled toward the mystery man. I ordered another round of drinks while we waited for the pair to stop flirting and join us again - if they would, that is. I noticed that every time I glanced over at them, though, the man’s glance shifted to me, a glint of amusement in his eyes. I could only hope Sally wasn’t making a fool of herself over there.

“Hey,” Purdue spoke up. “You’re quieter than usual.”

I shrugged. “Just home stress. Even alcohol can’t stop me from worrying about my mom.”

She tilted her head, scooting to sit next to me. “I mean… if you ever need to talk about it, I’m here. If you don’t mind me asking… What exactly is she so mental about? It’s like she’s completely looney. Doesn’t even work.”

I had to withhold myself from rolling my eyes. “She’s not looney. Just traumatized. Being stabbed in the abdomen and her only remaining family, aka me, almost dying to gore-obsessed psychos has left her scarred. We keep going in circles. Every week it’s like she’s brand new and recovered, and then all it takes is one thing - a glance at a knife, an open window, the ringing of our phone - to send her spiraling back into despair.”

I was surprised by Purdue’s affection as she squeezed my hand. “It’s going to be alright.”

I strained a smile. “Yeah. I know it is. It’s just hard to make her know it, too.”

The conversation dimmed once more. Our stares returned to the man and Sally. She confidently had her arm around his shoulders. I could tell by her mannerisms that she was attempting to pull him over to us. How thrilling, another stranger to join our midst.

The man rose to his feet while Sally eagerly clutched his arm and pulled him our direction. His gaze was glued to me as they approached. I sent him a glare, going back to my drink instead.

“Girls-s-s, this is Daniel,” Sally cheered. Purdue scooted closer to me as the pair sat down beside us. I yawned in reply while Purdue sent a cunning, seductive smile, placing her hand on Sally’s shoulder.

“Lovely to meet you, Daniel. A shame I didn’t beat her too it —“

“Shut the fuck up, girl. You’re the one who told me to get his ass over here,” Sally slurred. She was always the first one to get drunk. It baffled me how she could get all that after a couple of drinks.

Daniel grinned at us. “Hello. Daniel Johnson. You ladies having a fun night?”

“Woo-o-o, damn right we are, hottie —“

“Sorry about her,” Purdue interrupted, knocking Sally upside the head. “She’s a light drinker. I’m Purdue.”

“No, but I might need a ride home after this.”

Purdue and Daniel shook hands. I could feel Daniel's stare burning into the side of my head. I couldn’t help but down my drink.

“And who’s this pretty lady?”

Purdue smacked my arm, shaking me out of my thoughts. “Y/n, I know you’re a moody bitch but be nice. Sally’s one-night-stand’s trying to make small talk.”

I quirked a brow. “Well, you already know my name thanks to Purdue. Nice to meet you, Daniel. Well, not really, since your business isn’t with me.”

Purdue’s glare was burning my flesh, but I remained cool and composed. Sally, as though sensing the tenseness through her drunken state, suddenly slapped Daniel’s back. “Hey, be my one-night-stand. Let’s ditch these lo-o-osers.”

Daniel laughed, clutching her hand. “I barely know you, Sally. Besides, your friends seem nice. Y/n… Haven’t I heard that name from somewhere before?”

“Doesn’t matter. You can take my name and shove it up your ass —“

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Sally shouted, gaining the attention of some surrounding visitors. I cringed. Whenever we played truth or dare, it always went to hell. But two drunk girls are more stubborn than one half-sober one - and now, a creepy stranger -, so there’d be no reason to argue with them.

Purdue clasped her hands together. “Oh really? Fine then you hoe, you’re goin’ first. Truth or dare?”

“Only if you go next, girl. Dare, obviously,” Sally answered. “Give me, like, a hot one. I want to make out with this sexy guy.”

“You flatter me.”

There was something off about him. Maybe it was his composure, or maybe it was my mood. But he was at a bar, and he wasn’t flirty, light-hearted, or dead drunk. Who the hell came to a bar just to just be hot and mysterious anyways?

Purdue snickered. “Fine, fine. I’ll make your wish come true. Sorry, Danny, but this ugly toad’s going to make out with you now.”

Sally wasted no time, swinging her arms around Daniel’s neck and pulling him into a passionate, slobbery make-out session. He was exuding discomfort, and for a moment, I thought ‘same.’ Even Purdue and I exchanged knowing glances. Her conniving, toxic smiles weren’t directed at me anymore.

Daniel finally push Sally away. He had lipstick smears all over his face and he was quick to snatch a napkin and wipe his face. Sally had an irreplaceable grin. “Purdue, you’re doing a dare. I don’t even care. How about - how about…” She paused for a moment. “I don’t know. Y/n, bestie, help me out here!”

I hummed, placing my head in the palm of my hand. “Well, that dare was boring as fuck, and I know Purdue ain’t no pussy, so… Hey, how about you call that previous fling you had? Jordan, wasn’t it? Sound all depressed and sad and tell him that you miss him. The guy absolutely worshipped the ground you walked on.”

Purdue grinned. “You were supposed to give me a dare. Nothing would pleasure me more.”

She searched through her purse, eventually pulling out her clunky cell phone. She scanned her contacts before clicking on ‘creepy stalker sexy guy.’ She turns it speaker so that we could hear it ringing, even over the yelling drunkards surrounding us at the bar.

The thing was… I kind of wanted to wipe the memory out of my head. By the end of the phone call that went on way too long, I just ended up feeling bad for the guy. Purdue broke the man’s heart by leading up with fake flattering compliments and ‘I miss you’s just to laugh in his face and tell him he was only worth his dick.

Man, I was friends with assholes.

Purdue hung up, a sadistic and satisfied smile on her face. She turned to me again. “How fun. I always love it when I make a man cry.”

Daniel didn’t emote in the slightest while Sally was roaring with laughter clinging onto the man for dear life. I thought it was strange that even though us girls kept ordering drinks, he didn’t even touch one of ours, keeping completely sober.

Good on him… But that’s pretty shady.

“W - wait, it’s Y/n’s turn to go now! After that, there’s no way you wouldn’t do a dare, right girl? As long as you don’t make out with my man,” Sally encouraged, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Daniel’s nose scrunched. “I wouldn’t mind a kiss from a pretty girl.”

Both mine and Purdue’s jaws dropped while Sally was losing it in the way that drunk girls do. Limply beating his chest, she cursed at him before finally pushing away. She stumbled into Purdue’s arms instead, sobbing incoherently about how ‘u-ly bi-thes aw-ays tee her man.’ Now that was rather amusing.

“Well, Y/n, truth or dare?” Purdue sighed, Sally having passed out on her shoulder, even though she was still standing.

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, Daniel, you made her faint. I’m fucking tired, so… I’ll just go with a tru - truth.”

I regretted it instantly when Purdue, the sick bitch she was, developed a smirk. She suddenly pushed Sally over her and forced Daniel to catch her before she tumbled to the ground completely. Daniel was becoming obviously annoyed with every passing second, but we both knew he couldn’t abandon his night duty of keeping a drunk flirt from breaking a leg.

“Well, you know, I’ve always wondered… I’ve seen those two guys’ faces on the news. They’re both pretty cute.”

My stomach began to churn. She couldn’t mean… She wouldn’t go that far, would she?

“A simple question, really. Out of what’s-their-faces, Billy and Stu… who’s more fuckable? Like, I know they were murderers and everything, but they were your friends. No way in hell you didn’t have a wet dream about one of them before the whole almost-killing-you thing.”

I clenched my fist. My mind went blank. Daniel was staring at me, too, as though he’d finally recognized me. This was karma for setting that poor guy, Jordan, up, wasn’t it? But this humiliation was far, far worse. You’d think the woman, as cunning and clever as she was, would know when she was going too far.

“…Are you seriously asking me that?”

She waved her hand dismissively before pushing an entire bottle of beer toward me. “Answer or drink. You know the rules. Or are you too much of a pussy to be honest with your best friend?”

I chuckled dryly. “I guess I am. Bottle’s up.” I snatched the bottle, toasting. I went to drink, and Purdue looked oh-so disappointed.

Before the lid could meet my mouth, with one swish of the arm, I began pouring the bottle all over her. She let out a scream of fury, but I relished watching the alcohol stream down her caked face and staining her white cry top.

Calm and collected, not paying anyone else any heed and ignoring Purdue’s screaming in my ear, I grabbed my purse and walked away.

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emeraldties · 2 years ago

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A puppet and it’s master: Barnaby and Maverick

Look at me, I’m here again psychoanalyzing Tiger and Bunny and their subsequent Daddy Issues and Hero worshipping problems. Sorry. Not really. But sorry. Strap in cause this is a long one.

There is something really interesting about their relationship and the way Maverick just... throws Barnaby away in the last episodes of season 1, and the way Barnaby (in season 2) still keeps a photo of himself and Maverick.

In season 1, Barnaby, to Maverick, is a well-conditioned pet.

When you have the power to change the very essence of a human being, pick out the parts that are unnecessary and add things that are, they all become dolls after a while. That's why he was able to let go of Barnaby so quickly. He never saw him as human, just another puppet.

Maverick relies on subtlety. Barnaby already had a vague framework of a loving household, so to go against that outwardly would put his conditioning in jeopardy. He uses his powers as a last resort. And he's conditioned Barnaby well enough for him to move out, go to the Hero Academy, and talk to other people. To live a semi-regular adult life (other than the fact that his penthouse is a gift from Maverick and his paycheck is also Maverick’s to give). Because he still has that emotional collar fastened around Barnaby's neck. He doesn't need to choke him with it, all he needs to do is tug on the leash, and Barnaby comes running.

He's given Barnaby just enough autonomy to believe that he, himself is somehow defective and broken, not Maverick's methods. It keeps him compliant and distracted, and leaves Barnaby trusting the reality Maverick had inflicted upon him at a young age.

Regarding Barnaby's relationship with Maverick. It definitely falls more under the lines of emotional abuse. In regards to season 1, I think there is a part of Barnaby that wants to move on, to live normally, but his need for revenge overweighs every other want or need.

He's been taught that love, at least with Maverick, is conditional. It's about what he can do for him, how he can repay him, how to make him proud, and how he can make Maverick's show look good. Then, and only then, will he receive a modicum of affection back. This is exemplified in the way that after Jake is dead, and Barnaby thinks that he’s gotten his revenge does he pivot to another goal; making Maverick proud.

I know some people have theorized that this was another bout of brain-washing, but I don’t think it is. I think Maverick’s choices and Barnaby’s have blurred to the point where there is no need for obtrusive brain-washing when Barnaby is already conditioned enough to act out Maverick’s desired response with nothing but a couple of kind words. That makes their relationship even more insidious because now, us, as the viewer, call into question Barnaby’s free will. How much of this was his own decision? What is a puppet without its strings? What happens next?

He's grown up with that mindset since he was 3, and his relationships with other people reinforce that preconceived notion of love. That as long as he's charming, well-spoken and good-looking people will love him. As long as he exemplifies perfection there is nothing he can’t do except the things he wants to do the most; kill his parents’ murderers. He was the Hero Academy’s star, the King of Heroes, and overall a squeaky clean and charming image, and it has gotten him far in life. I wouldn't say that he consciously understands that that is what he's doing, and he doesn't necessarily obsess over public opinion (although he does bask in the glory lol). It's just something that has been a constant in his life other than revenge.

Also... how Barnaby keeps a picture of him and Maverick of the say he debuted as a hero on his table. I hope we get to see more of Barnaby’s internal struggle in the second part of season 2. I won’t speak on that yet because there’s not a lot of evidence to make a full post out of it, but the implications are WILD.

#tiger & bunny #Barnaby Brooks Jr #tiger and bunny #tiger and bunny meta #Mr. Maverick slander is encouraged #Much less rambling and more psychoanalyzing a fictional pretty boy #meta #tnb #i just think he's neat #meta is just another word for daddy issues

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zukuist · 4 years ago

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first selfie [hcs]

“you send them a full faced selfie for the first time in your relationship, after skating around the idea”

fandom/s: 僕のヘロアカデミア // boku no hero academia [bnha]

PART ONE (CURRENT) • PART TWO

includes: e. kirishima, k. bakugō, s. todoroki

your name is shortened to y/n, gender neutral

side note: yeah <3 my drafts are building up sooo.. i should probably upload all of those finished drafts (soon, anyway)

kirishima eijirō

let’s be real, he’s always wanted a pretty little selfie of you even if it’s just one.. or a dozen of them.

he’d be grateful of anything you sent him

it first started off simple with a mirror selfie, one of you leaning on your desk, with your phone covering your face

much to eijirō’s dismay

and from that point on, you’ve been sending him pictures of yourself consistently

though for the first few times, you’ve been showing him only a peek of your face, not allowing him to bask in your glory

fully, anyway

until one day, he was well.. attempting to study. he normally can’t be productive in studying, if he’s by himself

but you were out of town for a few days, due to a family meeting. he remembers you saying it was ‘super important and i can’t skip it out’

and the angry blond was out training angrily, and though he’d normally be fearless, he knows well not to bother him too much anyway

really, he was this 🤏 close to falling asleep. notebook on his lap, and the cozy atmosphere failing on giving his body some motivation to stay awake

until he hears a few ‘ping!’s coming from his phone, and eijirō jolts awake, immediately checking who it was

it was you, of course it was you, but the contents of your text message did catch him by surprise and the good kind of surprise

the picture you sent was a beautiful, beautiful selfie of your face in full view. the lighting may not be perfect but.. you sure are.

he’s ecstatic. eijirō rubs the lingering sleepiness away from his eyes, wondering if he’s just hallucinating that you’ve just sent him a full faced selfie

plot twist, he’s not

he jumps up from the position he’s in, switches on a proper light, and starts walking vigorously in circles

he jumps, absolutely elated, his heart’s racing at such speed ‘today’s my lucky day, wow!’ he repeats the last word frequently, like a mantra.

“the fuck are you doing?”

it doesn’t seem like it’s been a while. and a voice interrupts the gleeful moment, without much hesitation. it was just that easy

he stops in his tracks, and he sees his best friend at the door, staring at.. whatever he was doing

“how long have you been there?”

“i don’ know, five minutes?” the angry blond squints his eyes in similar bakugō fashion “you begged for me to help you study your ass off, remember?”

“oh, i did.”

“now snap out of it, you simp. the picture ain’t going anywhere.” bakugō stares at his phone

and the faux red head’s cheeks flush red

bakugō katsuki

he’s pretty.. indifferent about them. it’s not something he needs to have for survival.

i mean, if it was anyone else sending him unsolicited selfies of themselves, he’d block them without hesitation 😃

but i suppose.. one picture from you wouldn’t hurt. though he’d never actually admit that out loud

besides, if he’s going to have a picture of you, let it be a selfie that you’ve sent to him

because if someone were to catch him staring at a picture that was from your instagram..

he’d never live that down, because he says that he’s not following you anywhere. oh, and that person’s gonna get blown away

the first time he received a picture of you, it had him thinking. do you know what calm bakugō looks like?

that was his reaction

the first time was again, quite similarly to kirishima, a mirror selfie, with your phone covering your face

the first thing he thought when he saw the picture was why is your phone blocking out your face?

and second, are you teasing him or something? sending him a picture, only for the most important part to be blocked out.

he finally replies after 15 minutes, “stop sending me this shit” yet, he doesn’t block you, nor does he seem to mean what he said.

he forces himself to sleep, in furious katsuki fashion.

and you’d only continue to send him weekly updates from then on, despite his harsh words stating that you should ‘quit sending pictures of your shitty face’

your boyfriend still makes an effort to check them out everyday. he’s just.. letting you be, even though his eyes narrow into slits when he sees that the picture doesn’t include your face.

it’s around 6pm on a thursday, when he receives a text message during his training, the loud buzz interrupting him.

the blond grumbles, wondering out loud on “who the hell could be texting me right now?”

initially, he was going to ignore it, until he sees that it’s you. if there was anyone that knew about his training the most, it would be you.

a picture is attached to your text message, and he rolls his eyes. “don’t tell me, it’s another picture of themselves..”

but he’s taken by surprise, his expression faltering when he sees your face in full view.

“what the hell..”

those absolutely beautiful eyes of yours stare into the camera, and you’re dressed in your cozy pajamas.

‘i know you’re training right now, but i wanted to send this, so you could have something to look at when you’re done!!’

he’s left staring in silence, his eyes run over the picture a few more times, wanting to memorize every single thing about the selfie.

katsuki saves the picture, importing it to the secret camera app that has 2 passcodes, and he quickly gathers his things, wanting to get to your room as fast as he could.

‘i’m coming over, now.’

todoroki shōto

the importance of having a significant other’s picture didn’t really.. cross his mind?

i mean, the two of you have pictures together but that’s all it is. most of them being class photos, and pictures of the two of you with your friends

but those don’t really count, do they?

as the relationship hit the one month mark, he found himself subconsciously searching for pictures of you, whenever he was missing your presence.

only to find that he didn’t have much to work with. lacking what he really needed to see, which was your face

yeah sure, he could just.. ask? but how is he supposed to word ‘hey, i want you to send pictures of yourself’ into well.. more fitting words?

and purely by chance, his phone snapped him out of his contemplation.

you’ve sent him a picture of yourself, the plushie he bought for you covering everything but your eyes, with the context of

‘just felt like updating you :)) i hope today goes well for you <3’

did they know that he wanted a picture of you?

he replies back in an instant, with a simple ‘thank you. <3’ as it sounds cryptic, it’s really not.

from that point, shōto assumed that the regular updates from you, would be enough for him. he’d take anything, as long as you’re in them

but he’s wrong, super wrong. shōto must’ve underestimated his neediness.

the fire and ice quirk user initially thought that you were just skating around the idea of sending a full faced selfie

however, you’ve went from sending faceless selfies, to just sending pictures with just half of your face in them.

so.. maybe not?

shōto eventually drew to the conclusion that he just.. needed to ask, out loud.

“love, can i ask you something?” he asks, right before you were about to doze off in his hold

“sure, go ahead,” you partially slur, trying your best to stay awake

“can’t you just.. send me a picture of yourself?—.”

“oh but.. don’t i already do that?” your eyes twinkle at him, when you reply

“no like.. i want a picture, of your entire face.”

you sigh in relief, and you hum triumphantly, hearing exactly what you’ve wanted. “if that’s what you want, i’ll definitely consider it”

a week passes, and shōto’s sitting in his room by himself. when you’ll send him another update, he doesn’t know.

and then, a ding cuts through the silence of his room, and he quickly moves to check who it’s from.

“oh?”

your heterochromatic boyfriend stares at his phone’s screen, eyes softly fluttering, as he looks at the picture you’ve sent him.

it’s.. a selfie. now, he can clearly see almost everything he ever wanted to see. from each mark on your face, to the intricate details of your eyes.

‘do you like it? :))’ ‘i definitely should’ve done this a while back, pretty boy <3’

he texts back, ‘i love it.’

it is what he wanted. in fact, as soon as he saves the picture into his camera roll, shōto moves to make copies of it.

and the next time you visit his room, he’ll have a framed picture of that selfie, sitting on his desk delicately.

“shōto, you printed out my simple selfie?”

“but.. it’s your selfie. of course i’m going to print it out :]”

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queen-yalo · 3 years ago

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Naruto | The Legend of Blue Moon [#1: The Old Man's Story] | Madara Uchiha x fem!reader

A/N: This has been sitting in the back of my head for ages. Time to get it out. Hope you enjoy! ♥

Pairing: Madara Uchiha x fem!reader (Reader has a a given name, but no physical description!)

Genre: No-Jutsu AU (is that a thing?)

Warnings: -

Words: 0.9k

Chapters: #1 |

Tags: @katzekage

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“Can you tell me a story, grandfather?”

Madara opened his eyes slowly, squinting from the sudden brightness. He had retreated into his quarters earlier, sitting in his armchair right by the window, basking in the warmth of the morning sunlight. He needed to think in silence and solitude. Of course, his grandson would have none of it. Obito was far too curious and active to cherish quiet times. Madara had heard the pitter patter of the child’s small feet long before the boy actually opened the door.

“I have already told you three stories today.” He answered quietly, shifting to sit up a little straighter in his seat. “The sun is shining, and the cherry blossoms are in full bloom. Go outside and play with your siblings, Obito.”

The young boy pouted up at his grandfather. “But I want to hear another story…” He mumbled, tugging on Madara’s sleeve gently. “Please…”

Madara sighed deeply. “Alright.” He answered, letting Obito climb into his lap. “You’re annoying, you know that?” He grumbled, leaning back in his chair again. “That’s why I’m your favorite, grandpa!” Obito answered proudly, a huge grin plastered on his small, chubby face.

The old man smiled. “Well, you’re not wrong…” He whispered, ruffling the boy’s hair gently. Obito’s cheeks turned pink as he beamed up at his grandfather. He was the youngest of Madara’s grandchildren, and indeed the one he held the dearest.

“What kind of story would you like?” He asked, waiting for Obito to settle into a comfortable position. As usual, the boy let himself fall against Madara’s chest, expecting his grandfather full well to cover them both with the woolen blanket that had been Madara’s for decades already. Of course, Madara complied.

“Tell me a story of old times.” The boy mumbled, looking up at his grandfather.

Old times. It still felt unreal.

Madara was incredibly fit for his age. He was not the typical 89-year-old man. He was still in possession of a healthy body and mind; he was still sparring and sword-fighting occasionally – just for fun. Still, the boy was right. His glory days were old times. His youth was long gone.

“I have told you all the stories I know, Obito.” Madara said quietly, closing his eyes again. “That’s not true, grandpa…” The young one answered, sitting up slowly. “You have never told me the story of your katana. You know, the one you never use…”

Madara tensed up and snapped his eyes open. Obito was staring at the wall behind them, and the old man too, turned around to look up at the katana. Between two shelves and over the picture of Madara’s father, was the object in question. A beautifully crafted katana. Black blade, white handle, and a red tassel dangling from the sheath that was decorated with golden ornaments. “Truly a unique weapon…” Madara whispered, settling back into the chair.

“Tell me, grandfather!” Obito urged, his fingers digging into Madara’s kimono.

Madara had never talked about it. Too severe was the pain, too deep the wound that resulted in him gaining possession over the sword. It was a story from his glory days, the age of war and conflict. The age of samurai and assassins.

“They called her… Aoitsuki. The Blue Moon.”

The words were heavy on Madara’s lips. It had been almost six decades since he last said her name. But the memories of her were still vivid, haunting him every single day.

“She was beautiful.”

Obito giggled and let himself fall against Madara’s chest again. “Were you in looooove, grandpa?”

Madara hummed, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’ll tell you the story, Obito.” He whispered, pulling the blanket over Obito’s shoulders again.

“It all started on a winter night. I was still a young man back then, not even 30 years old. The war was over and Konoha was blooming, marking the beginning of an era of peace. My father and brother decided to indulge in yet another round of shogi…”

Madara had never liked that game much. He could be persuaded to participate in a game of go. But shogi? He sighed and closed the book he was reading, putting it back into the shelf where it belonged. It had started snowing again, and it would likely continue to do so all night. It was late already, but the moon was nowhere to be seen. Thick, heavy clouds covered the pitch-black night sky; the glass from the windows unable to keep out the cold. Madara had rarely seen such a cruel and persistent winter.

“Don’t you want to join us, oniisan?” Izuna grinned, knowing full well about Madara’s dislike for the game they were playing. “No.” Madara answered nonchalantly. “I’m going for a walk.”

The cold air was biting your skin as you made your way through the snow. One with the forest, you made your way to the village where your next target lived. It was quiet, not a single soul, man or animal, around at this time of the day. The snow crunched underneath your feet, the pendants and tassels hanging from your straw hat rattled and chimed rhythmically – it was strangely peaceful.

Your hand found the scroll attached to your obi. Your contract, with the name and description of your target. S-Rank-Mission. That is why the client chose you specifically. You were the best in what you did.

It was dawn when you reached the village in the Land of Fire. Konohagakure. It seemed peaceful, hidden between the forests and mountains. “What a shame…” You mumbled as you made your way to the gates. You would have loved to stay there longer, but you had a job to do, a contract to fulfill.

Tajima Uchiha must die.

#madara uchiha #madara uchiha x reader #madara x reader #madara uchiha story #naruto story #x reader #naruto shippuuden #naruto #uchiha x reader #uchiha story #uchiha

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bakubabes-tatakae · 4 years ago

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Request by @clovertitan: Congratulations Harlie 💖 May I request for the 2K event prompt no. 4 from Choice 1 and Prompt no. 32 from Choice 3 for Enji Todoroki please? 😊

I’m sorry this took me so long to get out to you lovey. 🥺 But I hope you like it. It’s my first ever Endeavor piece so I’m hoping that I got his character down for you. 😬🙃

The Flames Of Passion || {NSFW} Endeavor x fem!Reader

AO3 Link

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, 18+ content, dirty talk, language, choking, hotel sex, spicy endeavor

Word Count: 1.7k

You watched as the flames of the man that you had fallen in love with burned bright into the night around him. You had never seen him show more expression than when he stood on that stage and was announced as the new number one hero.

You smiled and raised your champagne glass as it was announced and watched the smug grin spread. It might not have looked like much to the people around him, but you knew that he was beaming with pride.

Enji hadn’t liked the way he had won the spot of number one hero, but he was determined to make All Might proud of him, he was determined to make his sacrifice worth it.

Your eyes locked for a quick moment and you shared in the glory together.

As the ceremony came to and end you saw the large, bulky figure of the hero approaching your table. It was time to bask in the glory as the two of you left together. You knew how Enji felt about showing you off to the world, despite how nervous it made you at times. Enji wanted everyone to know that you belonged to none other than the Pro Hero Endeavor. No one would mess with you that way.

You slowly stood as Enji reached his hand out toward you, grasping it gently in your own as you stared into the eyes of the man that had become the most important thing in your life. But when you met his eyes you noticed something coming from them that you hadn’t seen in a while.

That fire.

The fire the burned in him when the two of you had very first met. The fire that had given you one of the best weekends of you life when you had agreed to take that trip with him. The fire that had subsided as you both settled into a civilian life together.

So when you started to walk out together and felt his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close to his side your heart started to beat out of your chest. He walked slower as he turned his face and spoke ever so softly into your ear, careful not to let anyone else hear him. “I can’t wait to get to our room and show you just what the number one hero is capable of, darling.” A chuckle left him as he continued, loving the fact that you were turning to a puddle. “I’ll make you feel better than I’ve ever made you feel before.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm as you looked over at him, trying to keep yourself calm. You swallowed hard and put on the best grin that you could manage.

Enji loosened his grip on you and you walked a little faster, heading for the exit of the arena, wanting nothing more than to get back to your hotel room. He noticed the change in your demeanor and smirked at you. “You’re blushing.”

Your face grew even warmer as he pointed out that small fact, but the door of the limousine in front of you opened and Enji moved you toward it. You slowly climbed in and watched as camera flashes triggered around you. Enji turned to the crowd and waved with a smile before climbing in to join you.

As he settled in and the door closed behind him his hands wandered your body, not even waiting for the limousine to start moving. His hand reached over for the small button that closed the window between the driver and the back seat, leaving the man with only three words. “Driver, hotel please.”

* * * * * *

The empty hallways of your hotel surprised you, you had half expected for the halls to be filled with people leaving the arena to get some rest for the night. But with the way that Enji’s hands still wandered your body as he reached the hallway you knew that he had to have planned it this way.

And like he was reading your thoughts, he spoke. “Don’t worry, my love.” His lips lightly touched the side of your neck as your walk slowed, you knees growing weaker by the moment. “Nobody else from the arena is staying here, at least not anybody that really matters. Our hotel is too out of the way for most heroes.”

And that’s when it hit you. The ride to it had been much longer than you had expected it to be. Enji Todoroki... always thinking about these things when you hadn’t even thought about them yourself.

You saw your room number appearing in your vision and noticed Enji grabbing the card key, wasting no time. As you reached the door his strong arms wrapped around you from behind, slowly pushing himself up against you as he flashed the card in front of the door handle. The green light told the two of you that the room was ready for use. You were so close.

Enji lifted you from the floor and walked through the entryway, using his foot to close the door behind you. But he didn’t set you back down there. You felt your dress pull up, exposing the lace panties that you dawned underneath. As you felt yourself being lowered you realized that you were heading straight for the dresser.

Enji placed you down and his hand wandered between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. “Forget this chit chat. I’ve been waiting for this all night.”

Large fingers found their way to your panting, slowly sliding over the fabric, soaked with your arousal already. A small whine escaped your lips and your head dropped behind you. “F-fuck.”

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re already a writhing mess.” The confidence behind his smile as you opened your eyes slightly drove you crazy. “Just the way I like you.”

His fingers pushed your panties to the side and slowly slid into you, giving you a second to adjust to his size. Pleasure began to course through you as his fingers moved swiftly in and out of you. Your walls slowly began to close around his fingers, causing his movements to slow some as he brought you to your high.

And as you cunt clenched around them and your slick coated him, a grin spread across his face. Enji’s eyes met your own as he lifted his hand so that you could see your slick coating his fingers. “Do you want my fingers in your mouth?” He chuckled as he watched you open for him, knowing that’s exactly what he wanted you to do. “I think my needy little girl wants just that.”

As he pulled his fingers from your mouth his eyes looked even more devious. You reached forward for him, wanting to grab him and pin him to the bed, but you felt yourself being lifted from the dresser.

Enji sauntered toward the windows that completely made up the side of your hotel room that faced the city. As he placed you down your hands touched the glass and you felt your dress being pulled up again. The sound of a belt buckle behind you told you that he was ready for you.

His body pressed against you, pushing you against the glass as a small kiss was placed on the back of your neck. “I want the entire city of Musutafu to see what Endeavor is capable of. Let them see just how much it pays off to be mine.”

Enji’s knee pushed between your legs and pushed them apart, the feeling of his cock rubbing against your folds as he searched for your entrance making you even weaker at the knees.

Enji held you up as he thrust himself into you, all your senses loosing control as you tried to keep your cool. The lights of the city before you left a glow in the dark room behind you. Every roll of his hips leaving you speechless, the need to call out his name growing with every passing second.

His grunts mixed with your moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small hotel room. A large part of you hoped that nobody on the ground below could see you, but there was a small part of you that hoped that they did.

You could feel your second orgasm of the night approaching you faster than you wanted it to. And you knew that he wasn’t far behind you by the pace he pounded into you. His hips slowed and his hand reached around you, grasping at your throat, pulling you as close to him as he could.

The world shattered around you as your orgasm took over all your senses, your vision turning white. You had tried to hard to hold it back, but every movement hit just the right spots as his girth filled you. Just the feeling of your slick coating his cock made him lose himself as well. A strangled sound came from the back of his throat as he emptied himself inside your cunt.

Enji slowly pulled himself away, his hand running down your back as he knelt down behind you, watching the mixture of your arousal and his cum drip down your inner thigh. His thumb slowly slid up your leg, wiping it away before standing back up. His grasp met your arm as he spun you around to face him. “You’re dripping, stuffed so full of me. But I don’t think that’s enough, do you?”

You were unsure what to say. Enji was usually a one and done kind of guy, but something was different about him tonight.

His grasp on your arm spun you toward the bed, pushing you back against it, balling your dress up into his hands and lifting it over you head. “We’re not done until I’m satisfied that you can’t hold anymore of me.”

Taglist: @monic00l @strangeinternetwasteland @rowley-with-ackerman @kyu-pine @ellechanwrites @bonnisimpparker @impinthecloset @nikiniki743 @taliyahvermillion @maat-the-prescriptive

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