#King just so happens to be... slightly above on the favorite list than the rest

[pan-of-justice]

Oh yeah

I drew all the other gods besides king as well

So here they are :]

Warning!! there are some minor spoilers in some doodle pages!!!

They all mean a lot to me

I could replay this game multiple times just to talk to them all again

[khoicesbyk]

The Royal Romance.

Love Everlasting.

A/N: I had a different name and plot for this fic over a year ago. But after being in the RP community for more than a year, I've decided to write the current Royal Life of my favorite OTP.

Rated: Mature (at times can and will be Explicit. I'll be sure to change the rating when and if that happens). | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual. Y'all should be used to this from me by now 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me and/or other authors [their characters have been mentioned and/or used in the story with their permission] ) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 50K words. (may be slightly more or may be slightly less. Look, I stop counting after editing and re-editing and driving myself insane. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

This series is rated Mature and/or Explicit. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations

TW: Mentions of Cancer. Reader Discretion is STRONGLY ADVISED!

Matrimony. Part 4.

That night, after an entire day of revelations and interviews, Shanelle had so many questions for Marquise as they stood on his balcony. 

“Okay first question, when did Connie develop cancer?” Shanelle asked.

Marquise took a sip of his whiskey.

“About a year and a half ago. He was getting treatments and chemo quietly but they weren't working, so his Oncologist suggested surgery to remove the tumors. He had his surgery 11 weeks ago. But it didn't take. Cancer has spread throughout his body but it metastasized itself to his liver where it's inoperable and that makes it terminal.” he replies.

“Jesus Christ. How do you feel about it?” she asked.

Marquise shrugged.

“Honestly, I don’t care. I know I should but I don't. His cancer is his karma for everything he's done to people.” he replied before taking another sip of his whiskey.

‘Marquise…”

“You sound like mom.”

“Does she know?” Shanelle asked.

“Yes. A very small circle of people know. And we are all forbidden from speaking about it.” he replies.

“I’m sure that's hard for you.”

“Not really. Far as I’m concerned the sooner he dies the better the world will be.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. 

“Positive,” he replied.

“Okay. I won't pry.” 

Marquise sighed deeply. 

“I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound like that.” 

She kissed his cheek.

“I know you don't mean it…mostly.”

He smiled softly at her as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

“Thank you for understanding my mood. I'm not trying to pile on you. I swear.”

“That's why I'm here. I want to relieve whatever stresses you.”

“You are my Superwoman.”

“I think you mean I’m your Kryptonite.”

“That too.”

They watched the stars above for several minutes before heading to bed. The rest of the week went by in a blur of interviews and internal eye rolls. By Friday afternoon the couple were in a train car making their way to Princess Naya’s duchy of Arnaud. Which is in the northeastern part of Cordonia. 

“Just so we're clear, I won't have to kill the Princess this weekend right?” Shanelle asked.

“Yes. She'll be too busy trying to appease her husband. I spoke to him shortly after she left my office and he was not happy. He read the article and saw the footage Donnie put out and couldn't apologize enough. He swore to keep her in check this weekend.” Marquise replies.

“Good. Because I'm not trying to embarrass her again

 even though I will.”

“Down Crusher! No embarrassing her! Because I won't be tempted to stop you.”

Shanelle snickered. 

“So tell me more about The Grand Hunt. Mr. Master Of The Hunt.”

Marquise threw her a cocky grin.

“Basically it's a skills competition. Archery, skeet shooting, axe throwing that sorta thing. It harkens back to the Cordonia of old. But the main event is groups of 4 will go along into the woods looking for a rabbit that has been tagged. First one to find it wins. And by the first one to find it wins, I mean me.” 

“So who's in our group?” Shanelle asks.

“It'll be you, me, Drake, and Maxwell,” he replies.

“So I'll finally meet your two friends?” she asks.

“Yes. And we might even do a little diverting from everyone else.” 

“By diverting you mean we'll be cheating?” she asked 

“It's only cheating if you get caught.”

“You are so bad!” 

Marquise shrugged.

“Just the way you like it.”

They arrived at Naya’s estate later that night. Once they were settled in their room, Marquise was called away which gave Shanelle time to check in with the girls.

“Wait! So you’re at that floozie’s house?” Aly asked.

“Yup. Have to be here for the Grand Hunt. Marquise and I have our own room.” Shanelle replied.

“Girl! Be careful! She might have booby-trapped the room or she'll try to have your food poisoned!” Rob said.

“A.) the guards have been doing a security sweep of this room at my request all week. and B.) the palace kitchen staff is doing the cooking. So I'm good.” Shanelle replied. 

“You sure?” Nina asked.

“Yes, babe. I'm sure. I'm safe.” Shanelle replied.

“So what are you actually doing this weekend?” Bron asked.

“I'm going rabbit hunting,” Shanelle replied.

The girls all stared at Shanelle.

“Deadass! I'm getting on a horse and I’m going rabbit hunting.”

“I'm calling it now, you will be on your ass,” Nina said.

Shanelle rolled her eyes.

“Whatever.” 

Nina snickered.

“I'm not you Miss Keane. I know how to ride a horse. And a man.”

The girls shared a laugh, just as there was a knock at Shanelle’s door.

“Now who could that be?” Dee asked.

“I don’t know. Give me a sec.” Shanelle before calling out to the door, “Come in!”

Naya walked in and when Shanelle got a look at her face, she died laughing.

“Bwhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!” 

The girls on the phone were confused. 

“What is it?” Rob asked.

“Yeah, what's so funny?” Nina asked.

“Take a look for yourselves,” Shanelle said as she turned her camera around to show Naya’s face. The girls fell out laughing. 

“Daaaaaaaaammmmmmmnnnnnnnnnn!!!!” Rob piped up. 

“We fucked her ass up!” Nina said with a cackle. 

“Yoooooooo!!!” Bron said. 

“We did all that?” Aly asked smugly.

“We! Did! ALL! That!” Dee and Chut said in unison.

“Indeed we did ladies. Now let me deal with this and I'll call y'all back.” 

“Byeeeeeee!” the girls said before they hung up. 

Naya crossed her arms.

“Are you finished?” Naya asked.

“Nope. Nowhere near,” Shanelle replied. 

“I came here to ask if you like your accommodations, Your Regency.” 

Shanelle smirked.

“You mean your husband sent you here to offer an olive branch? But to answer your question, no, actually I don't like these accommodations. You have zero taste in interior design and it shows. Even more than that bruise under your eye that your makeup is doing a terrible job of hiding.” 

Naya took a deep breath.

“Look, I'm just trying to get through this weekend.”

“You mean you're trying to salvage your damaged name and reputation. I bet your husband was on your ass when he came home.” 

Naya set her jaw.

“You had all that attitude and bravado last weekend when you challenged me and lost. And now you look like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. As a matter of fact, I have all weekend to be on your ass. And it's exactly what you deserve.”

“You're lucky that you–” Naya started to say before Shanelle cut her off. “Sweetie, let me stop you right there. Because you know you can't fight. You proved that last weekend. But anytime you want a round two. I got time for you.”

Naya just stood there fuming.

“So happy we could have this conversation, Princess. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Have a nice night.” Shanelle said as she dismissed Naya. 

Naya looked at Shanelle one last time before leaving the room. 45 minutes later Shanelle was coming out of the bathroom when she saw Marquise laying on the bed with his arms behind his head.

“You are a menace. You know that right?” he said to her. 

“Why Your Regency! I have no idea what you mean.” Shanelle said in mock innocence. 

“You don't like our accommodations, my love?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

Shanelle looked at him with a smirk.

“Did Naya tell you that? Did she bat her eyelashes as she shed her crocodile tears?” she replied.

“No. She ran to her husband and cried about you being mean to her when all she was trying to do is be a good hostess. So I had to tell him that you were only joking.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically.

“Oh, the poor Princess! Someone was mean to her.” Shanelle said with a cackle.

Marquise shook his head with a smirk.

“Again, you are a menace.”

Shanelle sat down and started applying her lotion.

“Yeah yeah. I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat.”

“Okay. I hope you like venison. This part of Cordonia is known for it.” 

Shanelle made a face.

“What?” Marquise asked.

“I've never had venison. Sounds kinda weird. And bougie.”

“It's deer. And it's also a local delicacy.”

“Whatever happened to good old pizza and wings?” Shanelle asked.

“My love, we're not in New York but, I can have that made for you. How about Pizza Bianca with Prosciutto, shaved Fontina, and aged Balsamic Vinegar, plus wings?” he asked.

“Garlic Parm. All drums,” she replied.

“I prefer flats.”

Shanelle made another face.

“God! You are so weird!”

Marquise snickered before putting in a call to have room service delivered.

“This Pizza Bianca is fucking incredible! I love everything about it,” she said as she took a bite of her slice. 

“Mmhmm. And these wings are amazing. Compliments to the chefs.” 

“You know you could've told me no right?” she asked. 

“I know. But my job is to make sure you are as comfortable as possible.” he replied.

“Yeah but that doesn't mean just hand me whatever I want.”

“Are you saying that I’m a doormat?” he asked.

“I'm saying that you don't have to always hand me the world on a silver platter Marquise,” she replies.

“First of all, I would never hand you the world on a silver platter. That is beneath me. What I would do instead is, I would hand you the world on a diamond-studded, gold-plated Sterling silver platter. Second, they'll more than likely serve venison tomorrow at the reception dinner. And lastly, this is how I show my love to and for you. By reminding you that you are deeply loved and greatly appreciated by me.”

“Even if it inconveniences you?” she asked.

“Especially then,” he replied as he tucked her hair behind her ear. “When it comes to you, nothing will ever inconvenience me.”

She smiled at him before kissing him softly.

“You have garlic breath,” he teased.

“So do you, Blacula.” 

“Blah! Blah!” 

The two laughed before they finished their food. 

The next day, they were walking to the stables after Marquise had won the archery and axe throwing and Shanelle won the skeet shooting competitions to see the horse they would be riding for the hunt. 

“Are you ready for today?” Marquise asked her. 

“As ready as I can be. We're not actually gonna kill a rabbit, are we?” she replies.

“No. They stopped killing rabbits 40 years ago. It'll be released back into the wild.” 

“Okay good. So let's go find me a horse.”

“Way ahead of you.”

When they got inside the stables Drake and Maxwell were standing with three horses. 

“Is that Marabelle’s Dream?” she asked.

“Yes. I had her brought here from your duchy,” Marquise replied. 

“And these two jackasses must be Drake and Liam,” Shanelle said, pointing to Drake and Maxwell.

They winced. 

“Lord Maxwell Percival Beaumont, master of all things dance, shimmy, shake, rattle and roll. Good times and all. At your service, Your Regency.” Maxwell said with a flourish.

“Is he?” Shanelle asked.

“Always.” Marquise and Drake replied.

“Okay then…”

“Does she know?” Drake asked Marquise.

“Everything,” Marquise replies.

Shanelle crossed her arms.

“Yeah, so start talking.”

The two looked at each other before they launched into an explanation of what happened and the parts they played in the blowing up of her relationship with Cassian. At the end of their explanation, Shanelle shook her head.

“You two are something else. However, I can forgive the two of you as long as you two swear to stay the hell from Cassian. Got it?” she said to them.

“Yup,” they replied.

“Good. Now I’m no mathematician but there are only three horses and four humans.”

“Ask him.” Drake and Maxwell said, pointing to Marquise.

“Where's your horse?” Shanelle asked Marquise.

“Marabelle’s Dream is my horse,” Marquise replied.

“No. She's MY horse. And her name isn't Marabelle’s Dream.”

“It's not?” Marquise asked.

“Nope. This noble steed with all her beauty will now be known as Midnight Wander.”

Marquise shook his head with a smirk.

“You and that damn book.”

Shanelle shrugged.

“So go find your own horse.”

“Nope. You and I are riding together.”

“I don't wanna ride with you!” Shanelle protested. 

“Too bad!”

Shanelle sucked her teeth.

“Like you'd pass up the opportunity to throw our relationship in Naya’s face.”

The idea did intrigue Shanelle.

“Well…when you put it that way…”

“Exactly. Now get up there.”

Shanelle climbed into the saddle with Marquise right behind her. When he wrapped an arm around her and grabbed the reins, she felt her heart race.

“You ready?” Marquise whispered to her.

Shanelle nodded her head.

Marquise pulled at the reins and led their group to where the hunt would be starting. Once everyone was gathered, Tariq gave his opening remarks.

“Good afternoon everyone and thank you all for joining my wife and I at this year's Grand Hunt. We are grateful to be able to host and have you all. To their former Majesties, it is always an honor to have the four of you attend. And to their Regencies, my wife and I look forward to you both attending. Especially when you become King and Queen.” 

Many in the crowd cheered and clapped politely. As Tariq continued on with his opening remarks, Shanelle noticed Naya sitting stiffly in her saddle next to Tariq.

“Your ex does not look happy,” Shanelle whispered to Marquise. 

“She'll get over it,” Marquise whispers back. “All I need now is for the signal to be given and we'll be off to the races.”

Just as Tariq closed his opening remarks a cage with a rabbit was brought out. Everyone watched as the rabbit was released.

“And so, let the hunt begin!” Tariq announced.

“Is this–” Shanelle started to say before Marquise grabbed the reins and urged their horse on. Soon they were galloping down the route. She was realizing why Midnight Wander was the Derby winner.

“So is there a plan here?” she asked Marquise.

“Yep. Hang on and let me do the driving.” he replied.

“Oh, God! I'm gonna die!” 

They rode deeper into the woods following the trail. And when they were far enough ahead, Marquise purposely veered off with Maxwell and Drake behind them. When they finally came to a stop and dismounted, Shanelle was still trying to catch her breath. 

“I almost died! You tried to kill me!” Shanelle said to Marquise. 

Marquise rolled his eyes.

“You did not almost die. I did not try to kill you.” he replies.

“I mean you were riding kinda fast.” Maxwell quipped.

“Yeah. We know this trail. She doesn't.” Drake added.

“See?! Even they know that you tried to kill me!”

“Quiet! Before I leave you to get lost out here!”

Shanelle stuck her tongue out at him again. Marquise smirked before he turned to Drake and Maxwell.

”You two got everything ready?” Marquise asked. 

“Yup,” Maxwell replied.

“And what about the distraction?” Marquise asked.

“As soon as you give the word, the rest of those lazy nobles will get the scare of their lives,” Drake replies.

“Distraction?” Shanelle asked.

“Just watch,” Marquise replied before nodding to Drake. “Go for it.” 

Drake smirked before pulling a small remote from his pocket and pressing the button on the front of the remote. Soon, shouts, shrieks, horse whinnying, and screams could be heard in the distance. Marquise and his two friends died laughing. 

“What in the world?” Shanelle asked. 

“A little distraction. I had Drake and Maxwell plant cherry bombs around the route. Not enough to hurt anyone but enough to spook their horses and throw everyone off course. And maybe have some of them thrown into the mud along the way.” Marquise replies.

Shanelle shook her head while laughing. 

“And you have the nerve to call me a menace,” Shanelle said to Marquise. 

“You are a menace. I just have fun at the nobles' expense. Now we have a rabbit to catch.” Marquise replied.

Everyone mounted their horses and took off. But Shanelle had one question.

“How do you know where the rabbit will be?” Shanelle asked.

“The one they released? I don't. That poor thing is probably long gone. But! I did get one that is identical to the one they released. Same tag and all. Oh, and it was microchipped. So I know how to track it.” Marquise replies.

Shanelle shook her head.

“I'd like to reiterate: you’re. Cheating!” 

“It's either I win or you deal with having to hear your uncle brag about his wife winning. Because her father was an avid hunter.”

Shanelle winced.

“Good point.”

“Glad you see things my way.” 

They rode until they got to a clearing where a trap was set up. Once everyone dismounted, the men went to work setting up for when everyone else arrived. 

“Alright! Flare gun?” Marquise asked.

“Got it!” Maxwell replied.

“Food to lure the rabbit out?” Marquise asked.

“Right here,” Drake replies.

“Perfect! Max, you stay here with Shanelle and ready the trap. Walker, let's go find Roger.” 

Shanelle watched Marquise and Drake disappear into the woods, before turning to see Maxwell struggling to set up the trap.

“Need a little help?” Shanelle asked.

“Me? Nah! I got it. I have everything under con–” Maxwell started to say before the trap fell apart. 

Shanelle stifled her laugh.

“Y’know maybe I could use an extra set of hands.” 

Shanelle walked over and started to help Maxwell set up the trap. She even took the time to find out a little bit more about her fiance.

“How long have you known Marquise?” Shanelle asked.

“Me? Maybe 15-20 years. Drake has known him longer. They met when Drake’s dad Jackson joined the King’s Guard and was assigned to the Royal Family. Jackson was Connie’s lead guard.” Maxwell replies.

“That's a very long time to know someone.”

“Yeah. He's a good guy. Loyal, firm, stern, fair, understanding of the people around him, caring, and he's protective of everyone and everything that he cares about. His mother Eleanor was the same way. He tries his hardest to be just like her.” Maxwell replies.

“So I've heard. So he's nothing like his dad?” she asked.

Maxwell took a deep breath.

“No. At least not in the way you may think. He and Connie are like night and day. Except for when and if you are stupid to piss him off. Marquise tries his damnedest to never be anything like Connie. But not even he can run away from who he is. No matter how hard he tries to.” Maxwell replies.

“Why don't they have a relationship?” she asked.

“Because Connie feels like Marquise is only here to haunt him. Marquise looks a lot like his mother and Connie can't stand it. He feels like Marquise is a constant reminder of the one true love he lost. So he's always taken whatever he’s feeling out on him. Especially when he's drunk.” Maxwell replies.

“Jesus Christ!”

Maxwell nodded solemnly.

“Marquise doesn't like to talk about it. And I really think I shouldn't have told you. But at the same time, you deserved to know.”

Shanelle nodded.

“Thank you, Maxwell.”

“You're welcome. And call me Max.”

Shanelle smiled at him.

“Oh! Look! We did it! We got the trap set up!” Max triumphantly exclaimed.

“Yeah, we did.” Shanelle agreed.

“Teamwork high-five!” Maxwell said to her.

“Teamwork!”

The two high-fived just as Marquise’s voice rang out.

“MAX! GET THE TRAP READY!”

Maxwell and Shanelle scrambled to their feet just as the rabbit came darting out of the woods, with Marquise and Drake hot on its heels.

“NOW!” Marquise and Drake yelled.

“Push the button, Max!” Shanelle said to Maxwell.

“Pushing the button!” 

Shanelle watched as the trap sprang and they caught the scared rabbit.

“Woohoo! We did it!” Max cheered.

“Nice going! You did it!” Drake said as he congratulated Marquise.

“HAH HAH! I win again! The title of Grand Master is MINE!” Marquise said triumphantly.

“Congratulations handsome. You won. Even though you cheated.”

Marquise gave her a cocky smile.

“Beats the alternative.”

“Fair enough. So what happens now?” Shanelle asked.

“Max send up the flare,” Marquise instructed. 

Max grabbed the flare gun and then handed it to Shanelle.

“Why don't we let her do it?” Maxwell asked.

Marquise shrugged. 

“Okay. Send up the flare love.” 

Shanelle sent the flare signal and within 15 minutes the rest of the nobles began making their way to the group. Including a very disgusted-looking Queen Genevieve. 

“It seems His Regency has won the competition. By winning 5 years in a row, he is now Grand Master Of The Hunt!”

Many of the nobles cheered and congratulated Marquise, who had a firm arm around Shanelle’s waist. Directly in the sight line of his jealously seething ex.

“Thank you, everyone. I appreciate you all and I couldn't have done without this one at my side. Oh and Max and Drake too.”

Many in the crowd laughed.

“And to her former Majesty who was looking to regain the title of Master Of The Hunt, better luck next year. Assuming I don't win again.” Marquise said to a fuming Genevieve before throwing her a cocky grin. 

“Now if His Regency will do the honors of releasing the animal into the woods,” Tariq said.

“Actually if you all don't mind, I’d like Her Regency to do the honors,” Marquise said.

“Very well,” Tariq said to Marquise before turning his attention to Shanelle, “Your Regency if you will.”

Shanelle had Maxwell set the trap down before she opened the door of the cage and pulled the rabbit out and set it down on the ground.

“There you go, little one. You’re free.” Shanelle whispered to the rabbit.

Everyone watched as the rabbit hopped off into the woods. 

“Now that the Grand Hunt has been completed, let us all head back to the main estate and get ready for the reception dinner,” Tariq announced. 

As people began to head back to the estate, Connie rode up to his son.

“Congratulations my son. You managed to keep your title. While gaining a new one.” 

Marquise rolled his eyes.

“I'd tell you to go to hell, but you'll be there soon enough.”

Connie���s face soured before looking at Shanelle.

“Does she know?” Connie asked Marquise. 

“Yes, she knows. Everything.” Marquise replies.

Constantine gave Shanelle a haughty expression.

“I take it you feel the same way as he does,” Connie said to her.

“Let's just say that whenever your time comes, I won't cry at your funeral.” Shanelle spat at him.

“Petulant child!” Connie sneered.

“That's Her Regency to you. Now if you'll excuse us.” Shanelle said to Connie before she and Marquise left.

After returning to the estate and taking a long hot shower, the couple was ready for the reception dinner.

“You look beautiful my love,” Marquise said to her as they walked to the dining room.

“And you look like a King. Very official yet dapper.”

Marquise brought the back of her left hand to his lips for a small kiss.

“Thank you, my love. Now let's make our debut.”

Soon the herald made the official announcement.

“All rise for Their Regencies, Marquise Rys and Shanelle Miller!”

As they walked in, all eyes were on them. 

“Wait until they announce us as Their Majesties,” he whispered to her.

“Ooh! Your ex will hate that,” she whispered back.

“Believe me when I say I don't give a fuck.”

They walked to the center of the room where Naya and Tariq were standing. 

“Thank you all. Please be seated as we present His Regency with his official trophy.” Tariq announced to those in attendance. 

Shanelle watched as the staff walked with a beautiful bronze statue.

“Nice! How many of these do you have?” Shanelle whispered to her fiancè.

“Including this one? 5 all together. The other four are at the main house of my Duchy,” he replied.

“Your Regency, I present you this statue as a token of your victory today,” Tariq said to Marquise.

“Thank you, Lord Tariq. I humbly accept your token.” Marquise replied to him as the two shook hands before posing in front of the statue. Marquise turned to Shanelle with a grin. 

“Join me?” he asked.

She stepped next to him as Tariq stepped away and the couple snapped a few pictures together. 

“Now that His Regency’s trophy has been presented, dinner can be served.” Tariq announced. 

Before they took their seats Tariq pulled Shanelle and Marquise to the side.

“Again I’d like to congratulate you on your win, Marquise,” Tariq said to him.

“Thank you, Tariq. It's an honor to win and it's a privilege to be able to stick it to Queen Genevieve for another year.” Marquise replies.

“Indeed.”

Tariq turned to Shanelle with a polite smile.

“And to you Your Regency, I would like to formally apologize for my wife’s heinous and atrocious actions toward you. She has had no right whatsoever to belittle or demean you. And she certainly had no right to attack you. And for that, I am horrified and do humbly apologize to you for any harm my wife has caused.” Tariq said to her. 

Shanelle nodded politely. 

“Thank you, Lord Tariq. I appreciate your kind words and I accept your apology.” Shanelle replied.

“You're quite welcome, Your Regency. Now, I believe my wife has something she’d like to say.”

Shanelle internally rolled her eyes and braced herself.

“Shanelle, I'd like to sincerely apologize to you for my behavior. I let my jealousy cloud my judgment and I took it all out on you. I am…appalled by my actions. Especially when I'm a married woman. I had no right to do that. And for that, I do apologize.” 

Shanelle looked at Naya with an eyebrow raised.

“I want to believe you but I know you don't mean any of what you just said. But, for the sake of the kingdom and peace within it, I will be a bigger person and accept your apology.”

Naya nodded.

“Thank you, Your Regency.”

“Now that apologies have been given. I believe it is time we took our seats.” Tariq said. 

They took their seats and dinner was served. Instead of serving her venison, Marquise had one of her favorite dishes prepared, Spaghetti Alla Vongole (Linguine and Clams).

“Mmm! So good!”

“I'm happy you like it, my love.” 

“I am curious though,” she said to Marquise.

“Hmm?”

“Not that I’m not grateful but why am I eating this and not venison like you?” she asked.

“I told you why. Venison is a bit adventurous for you so we can try it another time when it's just us. I want you to always be comfortable. But if you want to try it now, you can always steal a bite of mine,” he replies.

“You're impossible.”

He winked at her.

“Here. Try it,” he said as he offered her a small bite of his venison.

“Okay. It's not bad but I think I prefer my pasta with clams, olive oil, and Parmesan Cheese.” 

“Told you.”

After dinner, it was drinks, dessert, and dancing. Everyone in attendance watched as the couple gracefully twirled and glided around the dancefloor. 

“Well, whaddya know? You do know how to do a proper Cordonian Waltz. I guess that private lesson in your bedroom paid off after all.” he teased her.

“Shut up before I step on your foot!” 

He snickered as they continued to dance. By the end of the evening, Shanelle’s feet were barking and she was ready to crash but she soldiered on as she stood in the receiving line with her fiance. Many of the people the couple received were friendly and most pledged their support for the new Monarchy. Including Maxwell’s brother Bertrand.

“Hello, you two!” Maxwell said in greeting, “Shanelle, I’d like you to meet my older brother, Bertrand Archibald Beaumont. The Duke of Ramsford.” 

Bertrand bowed to Shanelle.

“Good evening, Your Regency. It is a pleasure and honor to meet you.” Bertrand said to her.

“The pleasure is mine, Duke Ramsford,” Shanelle replied.

“I am here to formally give you and His Regency, Duchy Ramsford’s full support to the new Monarchy.”

“Thank you, Bertrand. I always knew I could count on you.” Marquise replied.

“Of course Your Regency. Ramsford has always been about progress, growth, and change for Cordonia. And with you and Her Regency at the helm of that change, I know we are all in very good hands.” 

Marquise nodded politely.

“And besides, anyone better than King Constantine is a win in my book,” Maxwell added.

“I knew I liked you, Max.” Shanelle said to him.

“Quite. Now we shall take our leave but we do wish you both the best. Come along now Maxwell.” Bertrand said as they left.

When the couple got back to their room, Shanelle was thankful the night was finally over. 

“You did it, my love. You survived your very first state dinner. Without so much as an hors d’oeuvre needing to be thrown at someone.” 

Shanelle snorted.

“Shut up and rub my aching feet.”

“Gladly.”

Shanelle melted into the foot massage. She deserved it for all she had to endure that weekend. 

“How are you so good at this?” she asked him.

“You already know why, my love,” he replies.

“Y’know if this whole ruling a kingdom thing doesn't work out, you could make good money giving out foot massages.”

Marquise snickered. 

“Unless the money is coming from you for services rendered then I don't want it. You are the only woman I would do this for.”

“I can live with that.”

“So how would you rate this weekend, my love?” he asked.

“Not too bad. I know it won't always be like this but it wasn't too bad for my first experience. And I didn't have to kill your ex. So that's a win.” she replied.

“Yes. I'm proud of you for showing restraint. It's never easy with her. Even though I wouldn't have stopped you if you did decide to clock her.”

“You’d let me get away with murder if you could.”

Marquise cleared his throat.

“Your words not mine.”

“So what happens now?” she asked.

“Don't you have a wedding to plan?” he replies.

“Seriously?! I can start planning?” she asked.

“Yes. Your official Royal Business here is over. So you’re free to plan the wedding of your dreams.” he replied.

“Does that mean?” 

“If you want to head back to Boston or New York you’re free to do so.” 

Shanelle’s face lit up.

“I gotta call mama! I gotta call the girls! We have a wedding to plan!” Shanelle squealed. 

“Indeed you do.” Marquise agreed. 

“Is there anything you want before the girls and I go crazy?” she asked.

“What are the colors?” he replied.

“I know the official colors of Cordonia are Royal/Navy Blue and Gold but I was thinking of Purple, White, and Silver.” 

“I can live with that.”

“Anything else?” she asked.

“I want a VERY PRIVATE penthouse suite for after we get married,” he replies.

“You got plans for that suite?” she asked.

“I got plans to fuck you all over that suite, my Queen,” he replied with a wolfish grin.

Shanelle snickered. 

“Then I better get a move on.”

“Yes, you should.”

After traveling back to the palace the next day, Shanelle grabbed Ozzie and headed to the airport. She was on her way home.

“I'm gonna miss you,” she said to Marquise.

“No worries. Besides, the next time I see you will be in a church at the altar.” he replies.

“What are you gonna do while I'm gone?” she asked.

“You have a wedding to plan and I have coronations to plan,” he replies.

 “Oooh!”

“Exactly.” 

With a sweet kiss, it was time to say see you later.

“I'll see you soon, my Queen.”

“See you soon handsome.”

With that Shanelle boarded her flight home to Boston. When she finally touched down at Logan Airport that night, she was happy to be back on U.S. soil.

“It's good to be home, isn't Ozzie?” she said as they got into the car that was waiting. 

When she got to the brownstone and set her bags down, she noticed two giant vases sitting on the island counter. One was full of red roses and the other full of white carnations with a handwritten note from him in front of them.

Welcome home, my love. Soon, you'll be my Queen.

She couldn't help but smile and blush at the note. After taking one last look at the flowers, she headed up the backstairs and went to bed. The next afternoon Shanelle was on a FaceTime call with Nina and her mother. 

“Alright, you two! I trust the two of you to be the main voices of reason while I plan this wedding.”

“You mean while WE plan this wedding.” Shantel corrected her. 

“What she said!” Nina added.

“Yeah yeah. So here's the plan mom, you and I will handle the wedding. Nina, you and the girls get to go crazy on planning the Bachelorette Party and Bridal Shower.”

Nina rubbed her hands together. 

“Oh, yessssss!”

“Nina, don't you have my daughter and the girls doing something crazy.” Shantel warned. 

“Yes, mom,” Nina replied. 

“Now I will handle the catering, flowers, and decorations. Also, what are the colors?” Shantel asked.

“Purple, white, and silver,” Shanelle replies.

“And who's officiating?” Nina asked.

“My dad,” Shanelle replied.

“Awwww! Pop is gonna dust off his preacher suit!” 

Shanelle snorted and Shantel cackled. 

“And what about the venues?” Shantel asked.

“Well, they have to be big enough to host at least 300 people,” Shanelle replies.

“Hmmm…the only place I can think of that can accommodate that many people is St. Francis.” Shantel said. 

Shanelle and Nina groaned. 

“The Catholic Church off 87th?” Shanelle asked.

“Nobody wants to go into that mausoleum!” Nina quipped. 

“No. The Baptist Church off 129th. The presiding Elder’s granddaughter is in my class this year. I'll talk to him and his wife.” Shantel replied. 

The girls let out a sigh of relief.

“Now, what about the venue for the reception?” Shantel asked.

“I want either the Marriott Marquis in Times Square or the Waldorf Astoria Hotel,” Shanelle replies.

“Well, you can rule those two out. Their capacity limits are max 200 people each. The only other place big enough to hold that many people is the Consulate.” Shantel said. 

“Fineeeeeee! I guess I'll just pick the penthouse suite of Marriott Marquis.”

“What are you gonna do with the penthouse suite?” Nina asked.

“It's not what I’m gonna do. It's what I’m gonna do.” Shanelle replies.

Nina snickered and Shantel groaned. 

“Well, that takes care of the venues. As I said, I'll work on catering. Do you know what you want to eat?” Shantel asked.

“Yup! I had a sample menu in Cordonia. I'll text you the menu.” Shanelle replied.

“And what about the cake?” Shantel asked.

“Surprise me,” Shanelle replied.

“Very well. Well since I have all I need to do, I'll let you girls talk. Just remember, we're going dress shopping in LA this weekend.” Shantel said.

“We won't forget. I'll talk to you later.” Shanelle replied.

“Bye, mom!” Nina piped up.

“Bye, girls.” 

“And then there were two!” Nina said after Shantel hung up.

“Exactly. Now, what do you have planned in that head of yours as far as my Bachelorette Party and Bridal Shower are concerned?” Shanelle asked.

“I'm not telling you! It's a surprise!” Nina replies.

“For the record, I am not going to Vegas for my Bachelorette Party!”

“What's wrong with going to Vegas?” Nina asked.

“Besides the fact that Vegas is basic? Nina, I am marrying a man who is to be King. The last thing I want to do is spend my last days as a free woman staring at Fat Elvis impersonators,” Shanelle replies.

“You know you’re a brat right?” Nina asked. 

“Spoiled rotten. And it's all your fault.” Shanelle replied.

“Okay fine. Where would you like to go?” Nina asked. 

“Somewhere that screams, exotic, chaotic, and erotic,” Shanelle replied.

“Once again, you are a brat.” 

“And it's all your damn fault. What's your point?” Shanelle asked.

Nina tapped her fingers in thought. 

“Yeah…I got nothing.”

“You got all that intelligence and beauty and can't think of anywhere else?” Shanelle asked.

“First off, thank you and secondly, you shot down my Vegas idea so no,” Nina replies.

“I gotta do everything my damn self. I have three places in mind.” 

“Okay, what are they?” Nina asked.

“Monaco, Ibiza, and lastly Milan,” Shanelle replied.

“Okay. Maybe you were right. Vegas does sound basic.”

“Thank you.”

Shanelle took a piece of paper, tore it into three pieces, wrote down the names, and then threw them into an empty cup.

“Okay gimme a drum roll.”

Nina gave her a drum roll.

“That's a terrible drum roll.”

“Shut up and pick!”

Shanelle snickered before pulling out a name.

“Pack ya bags and grab ya passport baby! You, me, and the girls are going to Ibiza!” Shanelle announced.

“Looks like Bron will get her Spanish Prince after all.”

The two friends cackled.

“Alright. I'll send out the text and I'll see y'all this weekend.”

“Yup yup.” 

“Uh huh. Uh huh.”

Nina rolled her eyes.

“Bye Princess!”

“Bye bestie!”

If there were two people that Shanelle could always count on it was Nina and her mother. That Friday Shanelle, her mother, Nina, Chut, Robin, and Dee were all on a jet headed to LA. Aly was filming a movie there and Bron was finishing her clinical residency. They all went out to dinner at Spago when they touched down. 

The next day the girls were visiting a custom bridal shop on Rodeo drive. 

“Shantel!” the shop owner called to Shanelle’s mother.

“Hello, Ingrid! It's been far too long.” Shantel said in greeting. 

“Indeed it has my dear. I was so happy when you reached out about needing dresses for both of your daughters.”

The girls looked at each other.

“Daughters?” Shanelle asked.

Shantel smiled and took her and Bronwyn by the hand. 

“This is my oldest daughter Shanelle and my youngest daughter Bronwyn. Ingrid, I want you to spare no expense and make sure both look stunning at their weddings.” 

Ingrid nodded.

“Of course! Of course! I will make sure your daughters look like Princesses. After all, they will be wearing Ingrid Kozlov originals. Now let me gather a few things and we'll get started.” Ingrid replied before going into the back of her shop.

The girls all looked at Shantel completely stunned.

“Mom?” Shanelle asked.

“Yes?” Shantel replies.

“You're buying my dress?” Bron asked Shantel.

Shantel gave her a motherly smile.

“Yes. A mother always buys her daughter’s wedding dress. So when and if you have a daughter, you can buy her wedding dress. Besides, it's the least I can do for the beautiful smart young woman who is marrying one of the two boys that always ran through my house.” 

Bron looked at her with tears in her eyes.

“But…”

Shantel took Bronwyn’s hands in her own.

“I can not replace your mother. I would never even try. But that doesn't mean I can't treat you like you are my daughter.” 

“You don't have to do this, Mrs. Miller.”

“My students call me Mrs. Miller. You call me Mom. Got it?” she asked.

Bronwyn nodded tearily.

“Yes ma'am,” she replied. 

“Mom.” Shantel corrected her.

“Yes, mom,” Bronwyn said. 

“Good. Now you girls have dresses to get fitted for.” Shantel said as Ingrid returned. 

“Now to my brides and mom, step this way and I'll get your measurements. The rest of you ladies, please feel free to browse around. My shop is open to you.” Ingrid said to everyone. 

The girls spent the rest of the day browsing around the bridal shop. When they left Shanelle and Bronwyn had their custom-made wedding dresses as well as their bridesmaids' dresses ordered. Later that evening, while Shantel was at her spa appointment, the girls were lounging around the pool at the Cordonian Consulate in LA.

“I'm still trying to process this. Shanelle, your mom bought my wedding dress. Lo and I don't even have a date set.” Bronwyn said.

“Yup. She did. And think of this as one thing crossed off your list of things to do.”

“Did you know?” Bron asked.

“Nope. Otherwise, I would've warned you.” Shanelle replies.

“I love her. She didn't have to do it.”

“I've been trying to tell you for months that she loves you but you wouldn't listen.”

“I'm sorry I didn't listen. I should have.”

The girls laughed. 

“Shan, I can't believe your mom knows Ingrid Kozlov. She's one of the best in the fashion business.” Aly said.

“I mean to be fair this is the same woman who used to fuss at us whenever we went through her jewelry,” Dee added.  

“Well, that's only because we never put it back correctly.” Nina quipped. 

The girls laughed as a staff member came out with a box in his hands.

“Pardon the interruption, Your Regency, but this was just delivered for you,” he said as he set the box down.

The girls all looked at each other before looking at the box.

“So you gonna open it, Princess?” Nina asked.

“No. I don't know what's in there!” Shanelle replies.

“Maybe it's not that bad,” Robin says.

“Okay well, then you open it.”

“It's not addressed to any of us Nelle. So open it.” Chut quipped.

Shanelle looked uneasily at the box before gingerly lifting the lid with her eyes closed. 

“We're still alive right?” Shanelle asked.

“Yeah, we're still alive,” Nina replies.

“Good, that means this wasn't a bomb.” 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Now, hurry up and look inside so the rest of us can open our eyes.” 

Shanelle looked inside and when she did her jaw dropped.

“OH. MY. GOD!” Shanelle exclaimed. 

The girls quickly opened their eyes. 

“What is it?” Rob asked.

Rather than answer Shanelle reached into the box and pulled out a surprise.

“WHAT?!” Rob and Dee said in unison.

“No way!” Bron said in shock.

“Oh my!” Aly said.

“Wow!” the cousins said together. 

“It's a tiara,” Shanelle said in shock.

The girls stared at the tiara sitting on a pillow in Shanelle’s hands.

“Are those real diamonds?” Nina asked.

Shanelle numbly nodded her head yes. Robin looked in the box and pulled out a card.

“I think this is yours too, babe,” Robin said holding the card. 

Shanelle gingerly set the tiara down and took the card from Robin before reading it out loud. 

“This is the first of many. My Queen. I love you.” 

Shanelle covered her mouth with a hand. When she looked up at her girls there were tears in her eyes.

“Marquise for the win!” Dee said.

Shanelle slowly sat down and broke down into tears.

“Awww babe! Don't cry.” Nina said as she wrapped her arms around her.

She knew the girls were there and they were super supportive but all she could hear was her heartbeat. She couldn't believe he would send her a tiara. But he did and she was just overwhelmed. She took a deep breath and dried her eyes.

“Thank you, babies. I appreciate it. I just…I just got a bit overwhelmed.” she said to her girls. 

“We get it. You're getting married to a man who's about to be a King. And it's a lot. But I promise you we will send you off right and we'll always be there.” Robin said to her. 

Shanelle laid her head on Robin’s shoulder. This is why she was thankful to have her girls. They have her back and she has theirs.

“She's right, you know,” Shantel said as she stepped outside. “They'll always be there for you. And so will I butterfly.”

Shanelle smiled at her mother. 

“Thank you, Mommy.” 

Shanelle was thankful for her tribe.

“Now I don’t know about you girls but I do believe we have a Bridal shower to get ready for.” her mother announced.

“Yay!” Shanelle cheered.

“Quiet girl! You don't get a say. This is between me and the girls.” Shantel said to her.

Shanelle pouted and Shantel rolled her eyes.

“Oh, girl bye! That face stopped working on me when you turned 7.” 

Shanelle made a face as the girls cackled. 

“Poor Princess. Shut down by THE Queen.” Nina teased.

Shanelle sucked her teeth.

The next day Shanelle, her girls, and her mother were celebrating her Bridal Shower. Her mother had rented out the South Coast Botanical Gardens for the occasion. Shanelle felt nothing but love from her crew and her mother. There was food, presents, and giggles. Lots of giggles. Even a few groans.

“What is this?” Shantel asked as she dangled a flogger. “And what are you supposed to do with it?”

The girls just looked at Shantel.

“…mom?” Shanelle asked. 

“Yes, my dear?” Shantel replied.

“Stop dangling the flogger, please.” 

Shantel smirked before swinging the flogger.

“Why? Is there a reason why I should stop swinging this?” Shantel asked.

“Because it's creating a mental scar none of us need. Least of all me.” Shanelle replies.

“But I like swinging this thing. It's a whole lot of fun!” 

“MOM STOP SWINGING THE DAMN FLOGGER PLEASE! THANK YOU!” Nina said.

Shantel cackled.

“You girls are no fun.”

The girls looked squeamishly at Shantel who was still laughing. 

“I want it put on the record, your mama is mean!” Robin says.

“Duly noted.” 

Shantel rolled her eyes with a smirk.

“But I do hope you girls have had a great time.”

“We have!” the girls replied.

“Good. That was the plan. And Bronwyn.”

“Yes, mom?” Bron replied.

“I can't wait to hear about how beautiful you'll look in your dress.” 

Bron got up and hugged Shantel.

“Thanks again, mom.”

“Always honey. You girls are family to my daughter. Which means you’re family to me too.”

“Since we're family mom…can I get some brownies?” Dee asked.

“When you come back from Ibiza,” Shantel replies.

“Thank you!” Dee squealed.

“What about us?” Chut asked.

Shantel shook her head.

“Get your orders in.”

The girls clamored at once.

“One at a time!” Shantel told the girls.

“Logan would cry if I didn't ask for your jerk chicken,” Bron said to her.

“I would love a strawberry cheesecake,”  Chut said.

“Your lasagna rolls,” Aly said.

“Curry Chicken!” Robin said.

“Curry Fish with Green stew!” Nina said.

Shantel died laughing.

“Nina, you and your brother are the green stew eatingnest people I know.”

Nina shrugged.

“It's your fault that I love it so much.”

“Fair enough. Okay, girls. When you all get back from Ibiza, we'll have a big family meal before the wedding with all of your favorites.”

The girls cheered. 

“Thanks, mom!” they answered. 

Shantel smiled at the girls.

“My pleasure. Now let's finish up because we all have flights to catch tomorrow.”

The next week went by in a blur. Before Shanelle knew it, she and the girls were off to Ibiza for a weekend of Bachelorette debauchery. They couldn't wait to touch down in Spain that Thursday. Marquise had put them up at a high-rise condo that had a rooftop pool and bar. With a 360° view to die for. The girls were gonna live it up that weekend.

“Take it all in, ladies! Because this weekend we will conquer Ibiza!” Shanelle said as she toasted her bridal party.

“Hell yeah!” the girls replied.

“Operation: Babes, Bodies, Bachelorette Party is in full effect!” Nina announced.

“And who knows? Maybe we'll find Bron’s Spanish Prince while we're here.” Rob teased.

“Whatever! Can we drink now?” Bron asked.

Shanelle popped a cork. 

“Drink up girls! We have an island to conquer!”

The girls cheered before downing their wine and going out to a local club. They spent the night dancing, laughing, club hopping, and winning three wet t-shirt contests thanks to Nina. 

The next morning, Shanelle came stumbling out of her room into the common area, hungover with a giant migraine. She took a seat at the bar in the kitchen and was soon joined by her crew. Who were also hungover as hell.

“Dude! What did we do last night?” Dee asked massaging her temples.

“Ask me that question when I have the mental capacity. Because right now, I ain't got it,” Nina replies.

“Ugh!” the girls groaned collectively.

Shanelle laid her head down on the counter with a loud thud.

“The room is spinning,” she whined.

“Princess, what's in that pitcher in front of you?” Robin asked.

Shanelle looked up to see a pitcher and a note.

“Hair of the dog,” Shanelle said as she read the note. 

The girls groaned again.

“Anything but THAT!” Aly whined.

Shanelle poured herself a small glass.

“You're not actually gonna drink that are you?” Chut asked Shanelle.

“It's either drink it or we look like shit for the rest of the day,” Shanelle replies. 

Shanelle shook her head and squared her shoulders. 

“Down the hatch as they say,” Shanelle said before she pinched her nose and downed the drink in one gulp. The girls squirmed as they watched. When Shanelle set the glass down she started to seriously question her life choices.

“Well, how bad was it?” Bron asked.

“Terrible. But it's working. My head isn't splitting like it was when I hobbled my ass outta my room.” Shanelle replied.

The girls looked at the pitcher suspiciously.

“Maybe it won't be so bad?” Robin asked.

“Speak for yourself!” Nina replies.

“Maybe Rob has a point? I mean what else do we have to lose?” Dee asked.

“Our dignity maybe?” Nina replies.

“I thought we did that last night?” Shanelle asked.

The girls laughed.

“Okay fine. But I’m not trying it first!” Nina replies.

“I'll try it,” Bron said.

“My baby for the win!” Shanelle cheered.

“Don’t cheer for me! Because if this shit tears up my stomach I'm fucking you up! Princess or not.” Bron replies.

“Duly noted.”

Bron chugged her glass back and made a face when she was done.

“Who the hell thought this was a good idea?” Bron asked.

“Not I, said the spider to the fly,” Shanelle replies.

“Nope. I'm not drinking it!” Nina protested. 

“Shut up and chug Keane!” Shanelle said to Nina.

Nina rolled her eyes as she poured herself a glass. The rest of the girls followed suit.

“Bottoms up,” Shanelle told the girls. 

She watched as they drank and looked disgusted afterward.

“Instant regret!” Nina said. 

“Never. Again.” Robin said as she put her glass down.

“That shit is nasty!” Chut quipped.

“It tasted like death warmed over!” Aly said.

“That should be illegal!” Dee added.

“Should be but ain't. How y'all feeling?” Shanelle asked.

“Starting to feel better for the most part,” Nina replies.

The girls nodded their heads yes. 

“Good. Now I can ask the question, Nina, what happened to the guy you brought back with you?” Shanelle asked.

Before Nina could answer, each of the girl's bedroom doors opened, and out walked SEVERAL half-naked men. The girl's jaws dropped. 

“I'm gonna ask again, what the hell did we do last night?” Dee asked.

The girls burst out laughing. They spent the rest of that Friday hanging around the rooftop pool. The next day was a big day. It was Shanelle’s Bachelorette Party. The girls got dressed and went out to an amazing restaurant to celebrate Shanelle’s final days as a free unmarried woman.

“Here's to my beautiful, smart, amazing, incredible, bestest best friend ever. You, me, and Chut have been together since kindergarten. Then we met Dee in the 6th grade. And Aly in 8th. And of course the last two of our crew. But you and I have had each other’s backs for years. And we always will. You have fought for me. You have fought over me. You have protected me. You have defended me. And I am so happy for you. I am happy that you found your literal Prince. You found your happily ever after. I can't wait to see you in your wedding gown. I can't wait to celebrate your marriage. I can't wait to celebrate you becoming a Queen. Here's to you bestie.”  Nina said in her toast to Shanelle.

Nina was right. Nina and Shanelle have been through it all together and have remained at each other's side. 

“I love you, baby. So goddamn much. I would not be where I am in life without you by my side. Without all of you really. I rely on all of you so much. You are my rocks. My loves. My best friends. My sisters. My everything. I could never do what I do without any of you. I love you girls so much. Each of you deserves true love and unbridled happiness. That is my hope, my wish, and my prayer for each of you.” Shanellw said with tears in her eyes.

“We love you!” the girls said to her.

Shanelle dried her eyes as their food was delivered to the table. They had a full spread delivered to them.

“Now THIS is how you spend your last days! Damn good alcohol! Damn, good friends! And damn good food!”

The girls dug into their food and alcohol. As they ate, a small gift box was delivered to Shanelle with a note attached.

“What's in the box?” Dee asked.

Shanelle shrugged.

“Open it.” Aly piped up.

Shanelle unwrapped the box and looked inside before dying of laughter.

“What? What's so funny?” Rob asked.

Shanelle reached in and pulled out a box of condoms and a note. The girls died laughing.

“What the hell? Who would send you a box of condoms?” Robin asked while laughing. 

Shanelle just shook her head.

“What's the note say?” Bron asked.

“There's a surprise waiting for you at the penthouse.” Shanelle read out loud.

“Ooh!” the girls said in unison.

Shanelle rolled her eyes.

“So what are you gonna do, Princess? Are you going to see what this surprise is or are you going clubbing with us?” Nina asked.

Shanelle sat and thought for a few, looking between the box of condoms and her friends then made her decision.

“Y’all go ahead and go party. I'm gonna take these and see what this so-called surprise is,” she said to her crew.

“Okay,” Nina replied.

“And no more than two random guys per person. I won't be able to explain any number higher than that to people.” Shanelle said to the girls.

The girls laughed before finishing their food and going their separate ways. When Shanelle got back to the condo it was quiet. And after looking around and not seeing anything she headed up to the rooftop pool. 

That's when she saw the last person she'd ever expect to see sitting at the bar. Her ex.

“What in the hell are you doing here Cass?” she asked.

“Enjoying a drink and the view. How did you score a place like this anyway?” he replies.

Shanelle sat at the bar next to him. 

“How did you get in here?” she asked.

Cassian reached into his pocket and pulled out a keycard that was identical to hers. 

“This and directions to this place were mailed to me last week. Then I got assigned to a prisoner transport team here,” he replied before pouring himself another drink.

“A prisoner transport? The Marshals don't do prisoner transports.” 

“I know. But apparently, I came highly recommended so here I am.” he said as he finished his drink, “damn this bourbon is good. What's the name of this brand?”

“La Couronne Du Roi,” Shanelle replies.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“It's French. It means The King’s Crown,” she replies.

“How do you know?” he asked.

“Because I've had it before,” she replied.

Cass rolled his eyes.

“Of course, the Princess has had this before. The Princess has had everything before.”

“Shut up before I take that bottle and crack it over your head.” she sneered. 

“Threatening a Federal Agent is against the inst law Princess.”

“It would be if we were back in America. But we're not. You are however a Federal Agent in a foreign country where you have no jurisdiction, jackass.”

“I have never been able to figure out how you do that.”

“Do what?” she asks.

“Always get away with it,” he replies.

“I've always been the smart one between the two of us.”

Cass rolled his eyes.

“Whatever,” he said before pouring another drink.

“Poor Golden Boy. You never did like hearing the truth.” 

“What makes you think you’re smarter than me?” he asks.

“Well for starters, I've never been arrested for breaking into our principal’s home. Nor have I ever failed World Studies 3 years in a row,” she replied.

“First of all, I got arrested because of you! It was your idea!”

“It was a suggestion you idiot! But you and your hero complex took it too far. You’re lucky she never pressed charges.” 

“And secondly, it's not my fault that Mr. Griswald’s voice puts people to sleep!” 

“Funny how you were the only student that went to sleep in his class. The rest of us seemed just fine.”

Cass let out a frustrated sigh.

“Why are you so infuriating?” he asked.

“Is it the fact that I’m infuriating or is it the fact that I’m the only person in the world that has ever held you accountable for your own actions because everyone else lets you slide because of those green eyes?” she replied.

Cass went quiet as Shanelle propped her chin on her left hand with a smugly satisfying smirk.

“Well, Hotshot. You gonna answer the question or not?” she asked.

Cass mean mugged her.

“I don't like you.” he sneered.

 She leaned in closer.

“You're right. You don't like me, you love me,” she said as she snatched the bottle of bourbon away from him.

“Hey! I wasn't finished with that!”

“Yes, you are. You’re not about to drink up all my alcohol boy.” 

“Give it back!”

“No.”

“Shanelle, do not make me chase you over a bottle.” 

“You couldn't catch me even if you wanted to.”

“Is that a challenge Princess?” he asked.

A slow smirk bloomed across her face.

“I don’t know Hotshot, you tell me,” she replied.

Cass shook his head.

“Stubborn brat.”

Shanelle scoffed. 

“Pot. Kettle.”

And with that, the chase was on.

The two ran around the poolside area, with her evading him at every chance she got. It was just like old times when they were kids. He’d run after her on the blacktop until they were both out of breath and laughing. Like now. 

“You give up yet?” she asked him.

“Never,” he replied, trying to catch his breath.

“You alright over there? You look a little outta breath kiddo.” 

“I'm fine! Or at least I will be once I catch you.”

Off they went again. Running around the pool area again. They missed this. They missed the friendship between them. They ran around until they no longer could.

“Now do you give up?” she asked.

“You know what? Fine! Keep your stupid bottle.” he replied completely out of breath.

“Poor Golden Boy. He can catch America’s most dangerous but can't catch little ole me.”

Cass glared at her.

“How are you not out of breath?” he asked. 

“Well, for one thing, I ran track for 10 years. Secondly, because I ran track I know how to breathe while I run. And third, you can't run correctly because of your chicken legs.” she replied.

Cass groaned. 

“You just had to get that dig in.”

Shanelle shrugged innocently.

“You know me.”

“All too damn well.”

She shook her head before tossing him the bottle.

“Took you long enough,” he said to her. 

“Had to make you work for it.”

Cass took the top off the bottle and knocked it back.

“Tell your boyfriend to send me a bottle of this.”

“Get a pair of balls and ask him yourself.”

“I have balls!”

“And yet his are bigger than yours.”

“Careful Princess. I do have a pair of cuffs on me,” he warned her. 

“Look at you trying to be kinky. And failing miserably.”

“I know you're into all that weird shit.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes.

“If you’re scared, Golden Boy just say so.”

“I'm not scared. I'm Casssian Keane. I can do anything.”

“Except keep up with me.”

“I can keep with you.”

“You always were a terrible liar,” she said before turning to head back inside. He chased after her.

“Where you going Princess?” he asked.

She tossed him the box of condoms.

“Had to grab those,” she replied.

[wayward-mikaelson]

I Still Want You, I Still Need You- I. Civil War

Word Count: 2576

About: You are on Steve’s side of things and that upsets your brother,Tony. Showing that you and Tony are two different versions of your guys father, Howard. 

Characters: Reader, Bucky, Tony, Steve, Natasha, Sam, Clint, Wanda, Zemo, and T’Challa

Pairing: None

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, Blood, Injury, Mention of past death

A/N: This has been in my head forever. So while I write both this mini series and Winter’s Doll, please bare with me. 

*This contains content made for the 18 and up crowd. Read at your own discrestion

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The two sides were lined up like the soldiers in during war time way back in the day. You couldn’t see it, but you knew that your brothers face was upset and disappointed in you. He knew that the two of you were similar but, yet, so much more different than each other. There was nothing he could say or do to make you change your mind. He was wrong and you knew it. He was just too blind to see it.

“Really, Y/N, you too? You’re on the wrong side of the line, dear.” Your brother said shaking his head. “I thought you were smarter than this? Dad would be so disappointed in you.”

You couldn’t help but let out a fake laugh. “You’re right, Tony,” You gave him the look that you knew pierced through his mask. The look that many people have said to have been a look that Howard Stark gave, to make himself so intimidating. “I’m smart. I’m smart enough to make decisions for myself and darling, this one is the right one. And bringing Dad into this isn’t going to change anything. You Know that.”

“Is that what Cap told you?” Tony pressed. “That his way is right and mine wrong?”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Steve shift his feet around. “He didn’t have to,” your voice grew cold. The way it always did when you and Tony bickered. “I came to that conclusion myself.”

“Well, then, that’s make you a criminal like the rest of them,” Tony stepped back with both his hands up. “It’s not too late to change your mind, Y/N/N.”

You could hear it in his voice when Tony called you by the nickname he gave you when you were little. He was trying everything he could to get you to step out of this and join his side. He didn’t want to fight his little sister. You didn’t want to fight your brother. 

But yet, here the two of you are.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” you pulled out your retractable bow staff and opened it.

“I’m sorry too,” Tony said.

“What do we do?” Scott asked Steve.

“We fight,” Steve answered starting to lead the way. “Y/N, make sure you guard Bucky. Everyone knows that if they hurt you too bad, Tony will not hesitate to return the favor. Doesn’t matter what side you’re on.”

“Got it Cap,” you said. You knew that Steve was right. Didn’t matter what side you were on, if someone on Tony’s side hurt you to the point that you were hospitalized or near death, he would not hesitate and return the favor. He was still your big brother after all. You had your differences and disagreements. The two of you wouldn’t let the other get seriously injured.

You guessed the new kid didn’t get that memo.

While both teams were fighting, you and Bucky were weaving in and out of the fighting. The new kid, who shot out webs and talked way too much, threw something very large at you. But Bucky tackled you out of the way. The kid came at you again but when you swung your bow staff at him, he caught it and tossed you off it a good ten feet away. You were sure that you were going to wake up sore in the morning. You stood up and then saw red surrounding the new kid who as tossed into a giant pile of boxes. Your bow staff breaking in half.

You nodded your head towards Wanda who nodded back. She ran back towards the fighting.

“You okay?” Bucky asked.

“I’m fine, let’s keep moving.”

The two of you weaved in and out of the fighting again until Steve caught up with you. The three of you crunched out of the line of fire. You looked back to see your friends fighting. One side to be regulated by the government despite what happened to SHEILD a few years back and to bring Bucky in for something he didn’t even do. The other side, to help you and Steve get Bucky to safety, because you, too, believed he was innocent.

“We’re not going to be able to get everyone to that jet,” You told Steve. “It’s going to be impossible with everything thing going on.”

“Some of us are going to have to loose this for us to win it,” Clint’s voice is heard in your coms.

You knew he was right. You hated it too. The three of you ran towards the hanger. A few tiny missiles whizzed passed you guys from above and hit the hanger. That didn’t stop you guys from running, Wanda managed to stop the debris from the building long enough for the three of you to slide right under it.

“He’s innocent, Nat,” Steve said.

You turned around to see Natasha, your best friend, who was almost like a sister to you, standing there. A firm and disappointed look in her face. Natasha rose up her arm and you knew what was coming. You were prepared to tackle the female Russian assassin. “I’m going to regret this,” she said and slightly moved her arm to the side and shot out a taser. It whizzed passed your head.

You looked to see that Natasha’s taser hit T’Challa. “Go,” she yelled and shot another at the Wankadan king. Making him hit the ground once again.

You guys board the quinjet. You strapped into the pilot seat and started to press all the buttons you need. Even disabling the tracker. Steve and Bucky strapped in and soon, you had the aircraft in the air and flew through whatever you could. Looking down at the airport below, you saw law enforcement showing up. You still knew that you made the right choice in taking Steve’s side.

While you flew to Serbia, Steve and Bucky talked. You drowned them out and thought about your brother. A brother you knew all to well. You’d be on his radar until he found you. Until he had Bucky in his clutches. Until you and Steve were behind bars. Unless something there was something that gave him a reason to stop looking. You just hoped that you can get the information you needed before that ever happened.

Bucky needed his name cleared.

“We should be coming up on the base here soon,” Bucky’s voice brought you back to reality.

You looked a head and saw a snow covered mountain. At first you didn’t see anything but after the fog lifted you saw what looked like a bunker. As you landed the aircraft, from the corner of your eye you saw Bucky’s body stiffen up. You could only imagine what was going through the super soldiers head.

“You got this, Bucky,” You turned to him once the quinjet was landed and secured.

Bucky gave a small smile before he and Steve left the aircraft.

Then you were alone.

With your thoughts.

Time passed slowly as you literally twirled around in the pilot chair. You thought about your only memories of your father, Howard. You were really young when he took you in after your mothers death. Gave you the Stark name and all but that didn’t stop people from calling you his bastard child from one of his flings. Even after his and Maria’s death. But Tony had put a stop to that when he was asked what he thought about having a bastard sister. Let’s just say that night, Tony almost ended the night in handcuffs.

Some movement made you stop turning in your chair. You squinted your eyes to getting a better look through the snow being blown around the wind. The movement seemed to be black and upon a clearer look you saw that it was the King of Wakanda himself.

You gathered whatever weapons you could find in the quinjet and ran outside. The cool brisk air hit your face and tingled your nose. You didn’t let that stop you, you slowly followed T’challa to the door.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Your Highness,” you snapped open one of Clint’s bows.

The Wakandan king turned around slowly. “And why is that?” The thick accent came out slow and firm. You didn’t want to go up against this man at all but you would if you had to.

“Barnes isn’t who you want,” You noticed your voice started to shake. “All the answers we are looking for, it’s in that building.”

“I’m sorry, but I have to do what I must do,” T’challa started to open the door.

You reached behind you and pulled out a random arrow. You loaded it on the bow string and shot it. Luckily, for you, it had been one of those electric arrows. It shocked the Wakandan king and he fell to the ground. “I’m sorry too,” you ran passed him and into the building.

You wandered around looking for Steve and Bucky. Abandoned or not, the place gave you the creeps. You didn’t want to think about what this place did to Bucky. Then you turned a corner and saw a huge contraption that looked like the thing that Steve and Bucky talked about.

That thing that shocked the shit out of Bucky when he was under Hydra control. Suddenly your heart fell a million feet when you thought about the constant pain Bucky had been put through.

“Poor Bucky,” you whispered as your hand touched the torture device. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

You moved on and began to hear voices. You slowly followed the voices until you found them. The voice that spoke had an accent. He talked about the Battle of Sokovia, a battle which almost took your life. Then he spoke about the Vienna bombing and how that was all his doing.

“I told you it wasn’t him,” you spoke as you approached the group. “But you didn’t believe me or trust me.”

Tony turned to you. “I know and I’m sorry.”

“Oh good, the whole family is here,” the strange voice said. “Now the show can really begin.”

There was soft click and hum somewhere in the room. Everyone looked around and spotted an old television set. You guys approached it and when the screen popped up of an old road, you heard Tony suck in his breath.

“I know that street,” he said.

You watch the events unfold on the screen before. Your father dying at the hand of Bucky. You shot a look at Bucky whose entire face had fallen. Your eyes shifted to Tony who looked like he was about to either snap or pass out. You turned to the tv and stopped the video.

“Tony,” you turned back him.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” Tony snapped at you.

“Tony,” Steve cut in.

“Give him to me, Rogers,” Tony’s mask flew back on and turned toward Bucky. You knew he meant business.

You jumped in front of your brother. Bow loaded with an arrow.  “Tony, no,” you rose your voice. “It wasn’t really him. He was brainwashed.”

“Stand aside, Y/N,” Tony started to fire up his suit.

“It wasn’t him,” you yelled as you rose the bow up and aim it at him.

“I don’t fucking care,” Tony yelled back. “He killed our parents. No move or so help me.”

You let the arrow go and it hit Tony’s armor and stuck to it. Before he even had time to grab it and toss it, the arrow exploded, sending Tony back into the television set.

“Go,” you told Bucky and Steve. “I’ll be able to hold him off.” You loaded another arrow and pointed it at your brother who slowly got up.

“Are you sure about that?’ Steve asked.

“He won’t hurt me too much,” you stayed focused on Tony who stood and stared at you. You could only imagine that thoughts of anger and surprise he had. “Just go!”

“You don’t want to do this, Y/N/N,” Tony held up his hand again. “You’re giving me absolutely no fucking choice.”

“Then don’t fucking make one,” you kept your weapon in place. “Drop all of this and let us go. No one has to get hurt anymore.”

Without warning or any other word said, Tony hit you. With what, you weren’t sure since he upgrades his suits whenever he’s bored. You flew back into something hard and smacked your head hard enough to put you out.

***

When you came to, your sight was fuzzy and your side was killing you. You were still in the old Hydra base so that was good, Tony hadn’t thought about taking you back. You looked down and as you saw a piece of metal poking out of your side. Biting your lip as hard as you could until you tasted blood, you pulled the metal out of your side.

You placed your hand over the wound to clot the small blood flow. You stood up and swayed some. It felt like your brain was rolling around in your head. Tony must have used some force and it pissed you off.

In the distance you heard the clanging around and yelling. You knew that Tony cornered Steve and Bucky. You followed the the sound and when you found them you saw Bucky on the ground. His metal arm blown off. Blood flood from his head and nose.

“Bucky,” you ran and slide over to him. You checked his pulse and pressed an ear to his chest. “Thank God,” you breathed when the soft sound of his heart reached your ear. “We’ll get you fixed you up.” You swore you saw a small smile on his face when you said that.

Then you looked up.

Steve had Tony in the air and threw him into a wall. You gasped and stood up only to fall to your knees when the pain in your side ran sharp through your body. Steve straddled Tony and grabbed his shield and started to hit his mask with the edge of it. The shield managed to break the mask. You saw fear in Tony’s face as Steve rose the shield once again.

“Steve, no!” You screamed as Steve brought the shield down. But it didn’t hit Tony’s face. It his the arc reactor in the suit. Making the suit shut down.

Steve looked back at you and got up. Pulling the shield out of Tony’s suit. Steve walked over to where you and Bucky were. He pulled Bucky up and looked at you. “Are you okay?” He asked softly.

You nodded as you stared at Tony. Tony stared back at you. His eyes on your bloodied hand that covered your wound. His shifted to Steve who started to walk away. “He gave you that shield,” he yelled. “You don’t deserve it.”

You turned to Steve, who stopped and drop the shield where he stood. You slowly and painfully got up and began to follow Steve you.

“Y/N!” Tony yelled after you. You turned to him. “You leave with them, you won’t have a home to come back to. You’d be forced to be on the run. A criminal. Dad would be embarrassed by your actions.”

You stared Tony in the eyes. “No, Tony,” your voice firm and full of anger. “Dad would be embarrassed by you.”

You turned on your heel and walked away with tears threatening your eyes.

[and-there-were-words]

A Spider Life: Webbed Thoughts (Chapter 02)

Setting up some HCs for the future, as well as giving some insight to our favorite scientist spider.

---

Taking place during “Revenge of the Spider Queen”, pretty much at the end of it.

With the Arachnoid Base gone and the town mostly in shambles due to the massive explosion, the Spider Demons were scattered all around town. Syntax takes it upon himself to find the other two, while wandering foreign, yet familiar streets. (Wordcount: around 1800)

---

Having almost all of his Spiderbots deactivated, was a huge setback for certain. It’ll take days to reconfigure them, and who even knew if they had enough of the special venom to get back to the count they had previously. It was near impossible to draw any numbers if the extent of the destruction was still unknown to him.

At least, there were a few things that survived. For one, the Spiderbot on his back. The cool metal resting comfortable against his spine, while the robot was feeding him a constant flow of information from the remaining units. It was a soft background buzz, a reminder that he was indeed part of this clan. The other ‘survivor’ being the head of their Arachnoid Base, certainly the most complex part of the mech. Given some time and work, he was certain he could rebuild it.

Syntax’s mouth drew into a hard line, reminiscing the events of the last few hours. It looked like the Queen… no, his Queen, had everything under control. The so-called-heroes caught, powerless against her might. The scientist had redrawn himself to continue working. Just because the battle was already won, didn’t meant there were no projects to finish up and to maintain. There were victory celebrations to be had afterall, and nobody else took it up to plan those. Syntax only had noticed the earth rumble above him when everything went down, and a moment later he had to witness his Queen on the ground, defeated. He wisely decided not to become a potential target of her fury, and excused himself to immediately go back to work.

As much as he hated to admit it, he really had to find the other two. For the sole reason to move the Arachnoid Base head back underground into the lair, of course. The remaining Spiderbots were not enough to stem this feat and he did not even have a fraction of the required strength to do it by himself. He would not allow his Queen to do any of this work, even if she was more than capable of moving the apparatus. No, if he could do something against it, he will not let the lady steep any lower, she was supposed to rest.

Goliath and Huntsman.

The scientist inhaled in trough the nose and let out a mildly annoyed sigh. The very moment these two had awaken, he was able to feel their gazes constantly lingering on him. Moreso from the hunter than the strong spider. Actually, it was a little surprising that the big one was… rather gentle in a way. Goliath barely ever spoke, and seemed content to just be part of whatever was going on. Doing what he was told to do, he certainly was the more reasonable compared to the gnarly spider that was Huntsman.

The older spider had made it apparently his goal to infuriate Syntax in any way possible. Always trying to shove himself in the spotlight when the scientist wanted to inform his Queen, always throwing little nitpicks and snarky remarks here and there – and by far the most annoying thing; always wrinkling his nose when he came too close to Syntax. ‘Close’ of course being several feet away, there was no way he’d allow that pelt wearing asshole anywhere near himself. More an unconcious act while having this trail of thought, Syntax lifted his wrist to his own nose, trying to catch any scent. He couldn’t detect anything odd, just metal, cold earth and the faintly sweet fragrance of his lady’s venom. Huntsman certainly was only doing this to irritate him. And frustratingly enough, it was slowly getting to him.

The scientist scoffed, looking up to check his surroundings. He was in the middle of a street, in some part of the city that didn’t get completely leveled during the fight. Some signs and advertisement screens still flickered with life, hanging in there with all might. The occasional spark and the scuttling of a critter were all the noises he could hear otherwise. Remarkable how fast the local population was able to evacuate from their homes once the Spider Demons had attacked. Something in the back of his brain clawed to the surface, images of a giant bull stomping and blasting entire blocks away. Having to leave ‘someplace important’ to be safe. A taste of bitterness of potentially losing all ‘progress’.

Progress of what? Syntax halted in his steps for a moment, trying to make sense of this rabid influx of images and emotions that… were his? Weren’t his? He could, for the life of his, not consciously remember any of what his mind was spouting out. It didn’t take long for the buzzing of the Spiderbot and the soothing warmth of the venom to calm his nerves again. What was he thinking about again? The scientist unchlenched his teeth, uncurling his fists. There was no apparent reason to be tense. With a shake of his head, Syntax continued down the streets.

He didn’t even question it that he could navigate throughout the city without a second guess. Somewhere in the far back of his mind, there was a subtle note that any corner he passed, and any road sign he read was completely new information. Yet he could feel it in his fingertips that he had seen these places before.

...most certainly the marvel of the Spiderbots, always here to bring him up to date! At a crossroad, his gaze subconsciously wandered down to his right, the word ‘Work’ coming to his mind. But before he could delve anymore on this random fact, a red flash signaled the scientist that he was close to his target. Completely ignoring the jumbled webbing of his mind, that tried to lure him somewhere, he turned to his left and followed the call of the machines.

It didn’t take long to find the hulking figure of Goliath. The strong spider was not within the crater that was left when crashing into the concrete, but instead was sitting a little to the side. Remarkable, that the guy barely had a scratch, Syntax wasn’t sure if he could shake off such an impact as easily. Goliath was looking somewhat exhausted, and for the first time since he knew him, mildly annoyed. It was clear that the henchman was already aware what must have had happen after he got blasted into the sky, the destroyed mech could not be overlooked easily. Though when he noticed the scientist approaching, his features softened, brows slightly raised in a silent question. For someone who could easily be one of the most intimidating creatures Syntax knew about (he didn’t knew many, DBK was certainly on this list though), he surely often made an expression like a lost puppy. In a way, it was endearing, giving this giant an aura he could relax in, at least somewhat.

Syntax looked around, searching for a second crater. Without needing to raise the question, Goliath shook his head. “He ain’t here, think he fell somewhere further to the east.”, a silent groan escaped the big guy as he got up, stretching his arms a little and dusting off some dirt. “Shall we?”

The scientist just nodded, stuffing hands in pockets and following the other’s lead. Finding himself mulling over threads of thoughts again as he watched the large back of the spider demon. In a way, it was… fascinating, how different they all were. Goliath, clearly strong and powerful, didn’t seem to make much use out of venom and webs. He was capable of both, no question, but either his mastery in these skills weren’t the greatest, or he simply didn’t want to use either for whatever reason. Syntax put a pin into that, maybe a question for another day.

Now Huntsman was almost the opposite. Even if he didn’t like to admit it, Syntax had to give tribute where it was due. The older spider’s ability of web manipulation was astounding, and maybe there was more to the hunter than one would give him credit for. He obviously was a traditional kind of guy, annoyingly so, but he still had picked up on Syntax’s gadgets and tools surprisingly quick. It did not take him more than a hour to figure out the spider trackers and the communication earbuds, he even had taken an animated liking over the tech-heavy binoculars that fed him instant information about anything he looked at. Of course, he immediately claimed that he would not need any of these, that his natural skills were enough. To no one’s surprise, Syntax noticed that said gadgets had mysteriously disappeared an hour later. He was smart enough to not bring this topic up.

Now the Queen… Syntax hummed contently as the Spiderbot buzzed in approvement. She was the Queen of Spiders for obvious reasons. While Goliath and Huntsman seemed to have specialized in one thing, the lady was quite powerful in all aspects. Her webs were strong and could be enchanted with all kinds of abilities. They were able to trap the Demon Bull King, and even the supposedly all-mighty Monkey King! That alone was a feat in itself. Syntax had noted with great pleasure that his lady was quite well versed in technology too, and up-to-date with society, in opposite to the other two. The giant spider bot that was basically just an extension of her true might? Her own creation! And don’t even get him started on her powerful venom! It had endless potential as both a power source and as an ingredient for mixtures and magics yet to be discovered.

And he, Syntax himself? For a moment, the scientist stopped in his track. He had his smarts and knowledge for sure. Basically a library of all things technology within his noggin. And his Queen already made it clear that he was an important part in all of her plans. Venom, webbing, physical strength on the other hand… The claws on his back twitched slightly agitated, a sudden spike of an incoming migrain stopping all tracks of thoughts. When Syntax looked forwards again, he could see that Goliath was glancing at him with mild worry, patiently waiting to continue their way to find the gnarly spider. The scientist shook his head, reminding himself that he was part of this clan, there was no place in doubting his Queen.

In comfortable silence, the two walked down the empty streets, neither feeling any need of smalltalk. As ironic and bitter as it was, Syntax found himself in a moment of peace, just a moment he could relax his shoulders and sort the rest of his thoughts calmly. Things certainly were going to get tense again once they picked up Huntsman, that fact was clear. The Spider Demons had a lot of tasks ahead of them as well, going off by the words of the little Miss Mystery. Not something he was particularly looking forward for, but serving his Queen was his sole purpose. And nothing will distract him from that.

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- SNAPE’S WORST MEMORY

Vague note before you read; I don't like Snape. I never switched to honestly feeling anything other than vindictive 'I want to punch him in the face' syndrome for this guy. I never transgressed into the wondering realization he's a good person just because he loved someone. Yes he had a hard life, yes he sacrificed it to protect someone else, but I'm sorry, it does not make up for the countless things he does to children. Call it a cover, call it whatever you like, I don't condone it. 

Sorry if that disappoints you or you at all disagree, feel free to argue back as I do love differences of opinion and will never scorn anyone for thinking otherwise. At least know I will never put such things into the fic, verbatim anyways, because Harry clearly thinks differently, and this is his story. Like with all other characters who people have different opinions about, all sides will be shown, even Snape's.

HPHPHPHP

Remus glanced at the clock and saw it was getting close to lunchtime, but he decided to keep going now with even the slimmest of hopes Dumbledore would make some miraculous return. He just couldn't imagine it, Hogwarts without Dumbledore?! Even in Harry's second year the idea had trouble him, and the Ministry had caused that one as well, admittedly through Malfoy instead of Fudge, but how on Earth did this keep happening? He forced himself to remember it wasn't right now, Dumbledore was up at the school this moment helping them fight off Voldemort for now, so he had to remain focused on that to begin, and immediately regretted it.

BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

"Oh not another one!" James demanded, though at some point he really should have stopped being so surprised.

Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced Albus Dumbledore as Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-eight.

"That's not even, the Ministry can't-" James spluttered. The Ministry decreeing teachers at the school was mind blowing enough, but now apparently they could just assign headmasters to the school! What next, they were going to start put wizards behind the desk at Gringotts?

"I can not imagine this," Sirius groaned in disgust. "That, that kitten stalker behind Dumbledore's desk, and now with total control of the school! Is there anything she can't get away with doing now?"

Remus was so gray in color it was almost terrifying. The image wouldn't even form in his mind, the kind headmaster who had allowed him into the school replaced by that- that- he didn't even have any insults left!

Lily felt petrified for the students well being, she almost couldn't breathe for a moment at the thought of what all she could get away with now in regards to those detentions.

  Signed by the Minister of Magic. These notices had been put up in the school overnight, as well as the story spreading of Dumbledore's miraculous escape from said Minister, The High Inquisitor, two Aurors, and the Junior Assistant to the Minister.

"Percy wasn't there when that happened," James corrected. "He'd left before Dumbledore started the fight."

"I'm surprised the school wasn't adding in a whole Auror department to the list, so I didn't correct them," Harry shrugged.

Details of this had gone away with people, such as one girl insisting to another Fudge was now in St. Mungo's with a pumpkin for a head,

"I wish," Sirius grumbled.

but what was surprising was how accurate the rest of their information was.

"How did they know everything?" Harry asked bemusedly.

"The portraits," all four at once reminded him.

Such as the detail that only Harry and Marietta were witnesses, and as the later was still in the hospital wing trying to get her curse removed, Harry was now being bombarded with first-hand account requests.

"There's nothing new," Harry sighed.

When told to Ernie, on their way back from Herbology, he at once assured Dumbledore would be back, and even divulged his own herd information from the Fat Friar, that Umbridge had later been seen trying to get back into the office, but was now bard. Apparently she'd thrown a right tantrum when unable to get in.

"Ha!" Sirius' bark of triumphant laughter was heavily echoed by all of them. It wasn't nearly what the cat barf was owed, but for the smallest moment, they got to enjoy her misery instead of the other way around.

Hermione viciously said how much she'd have loved to seen that. Fancying herself up in the Head's office, lording over all the teachers while being a puffed-up, power-crazy old-

Cut in of did Granger really want to finish that sentence?

"Yes, yes she does," Sirius protested of whoever had interrupted something nice for a change.

Malfoy had come upon them.

"Why am I not surprised," James muttered as he buried his face in his hands, somehow knowing this was only about to get worse with that albino reject involved.

He at once declared he was going to have to take points from both houses.

"Prefects can't take points away from other houses," Remus scoffed.

"I'm sure he's just already been promised Head Boy and was practicing," James rolled his eyes.

Ernie corrected only teachers could dock points from houses that weren't theirs.

"I wonder how many times he's had to be reminded of that when trying to bully little first year Gryffindors," Sirius scowled.

Ron reminding they were Prefects too.

"Actually sometimes I forgot," Harry muttered. After the initial shock, Ron had never made much of a show of it except for a few occasions.

Malfoy agreed prefects couldn't dock their points, also referring to him as Weasel King,

"Clever," Remus sneered with exaggerated sarcasm.

but the Inquisitorial Squad-

"The what?" Remus was interrupted by all four of them, which he found unnecessary as he'd been wondering the exact same thing.

he was cut off by Hermione demanding what that was.

Malfoy pointed to the I silver badge he had on his robes above his own Prefect badge, stating it was a select group hand picked by Professor Umbridge.

"I'm going to cry," Sirius vowed. "I, this, how do they keep managing to make shit up as they go along!"

"I never would have believed the school could turn into something so," James trailed off, without words for how different this place had become from his memory.

The Inquisitorial Squad did have the power to dock points from anyone.

"That just, completely undermines the whole system," Lily rubbed furiously at her forehead, thinking Fudge should be done with it already and rename Hogwarts 'The pre-Ministry of Magic.'

Then he continued with his first though, taking five from Granger for insulting the Headmistress, five from Macmillan for correcting him, five from Potter because he didn't like him,

Harry's eyes had narrowed with every insult Malfoy had given, even after all these years he still managed to find ways to be the most insufferable person in that castle, his only saving grace was he wasn't as bad as Snape and Umbridge, yet.

then five from Weasley for his shirt being untucked,

"Just take a round hundred why don't you, it'll be faster!" Sirius felt like his eyes were going to pop out of his head if he rolled them any harder.

oh, and he'd almost forgotten, an extra ten from Granger for being a Mudblood.

"Nice to know he forgets sometimes," Remus said testily, "I certainly never fail to forget how much of an arse he is."

Ron furiously reached for his wand, while Hermione pushed his arm down and hissed at him not to.

"Is she off her rocker?" Lily snarled. "I'd have cursed him at the start of this already."

"Trust me, none of us would have stopped you," James growled.

Malfoy was uncovered, stating new Head, new times, they'd better be getting used to this. Then they left.

The four turned to the hour-glasses that showed all house points, worrying that this couldn't really be happening,

"I wish I'd thought that for even a second," James shook his head, but he'd long since stopped questioning the depths that woman would go.

but even as they watched, the points shot down. Whereas Gryffindor had been neck and neck with Ravenclaw this morning, now they were both significantly less, as was Hufflepuffs house showing immense drops, the only unchanged one being Slytherin.

Lily looked about ready to pull her hair out in frustration. She couldn't believe such blatant favoritism could continue, the system had been slightly off kilter before and now it was just rampant.

The twins arrived then, commiserating Montague had tried the same thing with them during break.

"What does he mean, tried?" Sirius eagerly demanded.

Ron asked what he meant by tried?

Sirius was so giddy to hear any bout of revenge, he didn't even bother to gloat he'd just mimicked Ron.

Fred said without concern he hadn't gotten all the words out, as they'd stuffed him into the Vanishing Cabinet on the first floor before he could.

All five of them burst out with laughter for this, Harry's feeling a little more forced than he understood why.

Hermione looked shocked, saying they'd get into trouble.

Fred disagreed, at least not until they found Montague, and that could take weeks. Then they declared they still didn't care.

"Did they ever?" Lily rolled her eyes.

"Never been expelled were they," James defended. "Clearly they had some restraint."

Lily wasn't sure how he was able to say that as if it were actually a good thing.

Hermione asked if they ever had?

George said of course, they'd never been expelled.

Without looking up, Remus reached over and put his hand against Sirius' mouth so he could keep going very loudly. Sirius waited impatiently until his hand got tired and he removed it before bursting out anyways, "Lily and James mimicked them!"

"Thank you Blackie, I hadn't noticed," James said blandly, while Sirius crinkled his face in disgust for that nickname.

"Shut up Comet," Sirius snapped back.*

Fred pointing out they'd always drawn the line, George correcting they might have crossed it occasionally, but Fred pointing out they'd never caused real mayhem.

"Honestly, I'm not quite sure why," Remus mock pouted.

"I know I wouldn't have the restraint with the year I've been hearing about," Sirius agreed.

Ron asked about now?

Fred and George simultaneously agreed mayhem was exactly what their new Head deserved.

"I love them!" James declared. "Lily, we need to have twins."

Lily smacked him upside the head even while she was repressing giggles.

Hermione said they couldn't, Umbridge would have them expelled.

"I recall a conversation where they don't care," Sirius said eagerly, wondering how on Earth this could be Hermione's first thought.

Fred shook his head at her naivety, saying they didn't care, they'd leave right now except they wanted to pay their dues to Dumbledore first.

James was still bouncing in his seat like an excited toddler, glee and eagerness to hear what he'd been expecting from the pair of them ever since Umbridge had kicked his son off the Quidditch team. He had no clue what they'd been doing in the meantime, but surmised that the change may well have been they'd finally gotten premises for wherever their shop was to be. Glory this was going to be worth the wait, of that he was confident.

Then George informed them they may want to toddle along to the Great Hall so the teachers could see them peacefully at lunch.

Hermione asked why, and George promised they'd see.

"I'd fear for my life if I were Umbridge," Remus' grin was stretching into one Harry had grown to associate with a Marauder story.

"She hasn't the sense, and I'm almost glad for it," Sirius corrected with the same look in place.

Fred and George disappeared, and Ernie quickly did the same muttering about homework.

"I forgot he was there," Lily snickered. "I wonder how well he knew the twins before this to have such a reaction?"

"Clearly quite well, as he knew to make a run for it," Harry said with a smirk.

Hermione said perhaps they should go get some lunch.

James clucked his tongue at Hermione, Dumbledore couldn't have dragged him away from watching this.

Ron instantly agreed, and the three tried to move in with the rest of the que,

All three boys groaned loudly in agitation, they would have paid anything to get front row seats for whatever the twins had planned, and their boy was walking away from it!

Harry hardly looked upset at their reaction, he was vividly remembering already that they wouldn't have long to wait for details.

but when Harry turned around, he came face to face with Filch. He quickly took a step back, the caretaker was best viewed from a distance.

"Filch is best viewed not at all," Sirius corrected while all of them frowned for what this news could be for. Filch did not single out students for good reasons.

He told Potter the Headmistress wanted to see him.

"Don't call Dumbledore a woman," James rolled his eyes.

Harry at once stupidly said he didn't do it, his mind still on Fred and George.

Lily busted out laughing loudly at the look of chagrin on Harry's face and the three boys affronted look their boy was such a terrible on the spot liar. It hurt their soul.

Filch gave a silent, wheezing laughter at his guilty conscience, then instructed him to follow.

"Don't do it Harry," Sirius said at once.

"And what, run the other way and get in more trouble?" Harry demanded.

Sirius declined answering no matter how tempted he was to say yes, run all the way to Grimmauld place. Who'd have thought he'd ever even think such a thing?

He exchanged a look with Ron and Hermione before doing so, and as they left the crowd, he saw Filch was in an extremely good mood.

"Great, now I'm starting to fear for your life," Remus groaned.

"At least I have the sense to agree," Harry sighed.

He hummed to himself all the way up the marble staircase before informing Potter things were going to be changing around here.

"We've noticed," James said harshly, it had been disturbing him for quite some time.

Harry coldly said he'd noticed.

"Oh good, I thought it had just been us," Sirius tried for a happy snicker, though it was clear how distracted he was he hadn't realized this had been said twice.

Filch continued he'd been telling Dumbledore for years he was too soft on the students.

"And your idea of correcting that was medieval torture," Remus pleasantly reminded. "I'm sure he can understand why normal teachers methods are better."

These filthy little beasts dropping Stink Pellets every which way, they wouldn't have been doing so if they'd known he had the power to whip them raw.

Lily blanched in horror while the boys smiled grimly. They just couldn't believe Filch would ever go through with it, considering how often he'd threatened this and he'd always been laughed off.

Nobody would have been throwing Fanged Frisbees down the corridors if he could've strung them up by the ankles in his office.

"Why doesn't he ever just go for the Heretic fork, that's a grand old torture," Sirius offered in what he was sure was a helpful tone of voice.

"I don't even want to know what that is," Lily shook her head.

When the new Educational Decree Number Twenty-nine came through though, oh he'd be able to do that and much more.

"If he ever goes through with that, I'll give the man his own award," Remus snickered with a bit of an edge, implying it wasn't a trophy kind.

The Minister had even signed an order for the expulsion of Peeves.

"They're going to blow up that castle trying," James said conversationally.

"Hopefully the twins stick around long enough at least see that," Remus said without concern.

Harry was not happy to hear the lengths Umbridge had gone to to get Filch on her side, but he knew they'd pay off considering his extensive knowledge of all the school's secret passages, rivaled only by the Weasley twins.

"While that's true," Sirius sighed, "I still can't find him anymore of a credible threat than his cat. Timing is key in avoidance of him."

He finally stopped outside Umbridge's office, so very familiar to Harry from his many detentions.

"I'd be very pleased if you stopped reminding me of that," Lily hissed, though it wouldn't actually help, as that was ingrained into her being as much as the back of his hand.

The usual pink décor was as eye watering as ever, the only new thing the block of wood on her desk declaring her as Headmistress.

Remus adopted quite a cruel smirk for that was all she could claim, a useless block of wood. The school would never follow her.

Also his Firebolt and the twins Cleansweeps were chained to the wall behind her desk with iron pegs.

Lily raised a brow and stated, "a bit overkill," while James and Sirius looked physically pained at the thought.

She thanked Argus for his fetching Potter, while Harry took a seat. Not knowing what fresh horror to expect,

"I stopped wondering that and now just dread it," Remus grumbled.

he was completely started when she asked him what he'd like to drink.

"Don't do it Harry," James said at once.

"It's probably poisoned," Sirius agreed grimly.

"I just wouldn't accept anything from her on principle," Remus crinkled his nose at the thought, all of them wondering at what she hoped to accomplish by the sudden nicety.

When he hesitated, she prompted tea, coffee, pumpkin juice?

"The most fast acting poison you have," Lily muttered.

He at first refused, but upon her persistence, he picked tea.

She turned her back and made quite a show of pouring it into the cup as well as some milk before turning back to him.

"I'm starting to think that wasn't a joke," Lily told Sirius.

"I never meant it as one," Sirius agreed.

She requested he drink up while they have a chat, but when Harry still only held the cup, she impatiently waved him to try it.

The look on Harry's face was clearly strained, and they could all understand why at having to play niceties at this. The real problem was they couldn't put their finger down on why she was doing this.

He finally raised the cup to his lips, but froze at the last second upon spotting a kitten with very blue eyes, the same shade as Mad-Eye Moody's special eye. He could easily imagine what the old Auror would say to him drinking something from a known enemy.

James's mouth popped open with outrage. "You mean you actually were going to take a sip before you saw that?"

"But I didn't," Harry protested, starting to rub in agitation at his forehead, somehow knowing he'd be quite grateful for this, though not a clue as to why, she hadn't really poisoned that had she?

"At least Mad-Eye left a good impression, even the fake one," Sirius grumbled.

Instead he falsely took a sip with his lips firmly pressed together, and once he had, she asked if he knew where Albus Dumbledore was.

Lily was getting a worse feeling by the second, and she hadn't thought it could be possible, considering his company. "Why does she think you'd know that?"

"No clue," Harry sighed, as always wishing he had a better answer for them.

Harry instantly said he had no clue, and Umbridge went right back to encouraging to drink up his tea.

James kept shifting his weight with heavy unease, wishing she'd stop with the farce of politeness in this drink already, though perhaps that's the only way to be nice she knew, the fake kind. All he really wanted to do was transform her into a teapot and shatter the pieces already.

When she repeated the question but got the same answer, she switched to asking for the whereabouts of Sirius Black.

Remus choked hard, he couldn't even get his full name out, but he didn't need to, it was clear they'd understood.

"No," James hissed, looking nearly faint.

"No, she can't have, there's no way she knew that was you!" Lily protested. "I, you, you've actually been really careful, and smart, and..." she trailed off, because her words gave her no comfort, and it was clear they were going straight past the others.

"Okay, okay," Harry practically yelled to keep their attention before they had an utter panic attack to rival the one screaming in his head. "She doesn't know where he is, that's why she's asking!"

"But why!" Remus snarled, his eyes glued to the words, ignoring how hard it was becoming to breathe from the mounting fear. "She shouldn't have any clue what you know about him, as far as they're concerned he's still after you!"

"Something's changed," Sirius said slowly, and honestly the scariest part to all of them was how hard Sirius was clearly trying to keep up his usual calm in regards to this. "The only thing I can think of was that Azkaban break. Despite their stupid story they published, they realized something wasn't right, and they're trying to find some alternative. The only one they've got is what Dumbledore offered, so if they believe I was out trying to help Harry..." he trailed off with a miserable shake to his head. He had no hope that this change would help him at all, they'd still do everything in their power to bury all this even while looking for someone to blame.

Remus was not comforted, none of them were. It terrified him to keep going, to know what else Umbridge had called Harry up there to ask, though what in her sugar frosted mind made her think he'd answer was beyond him. Most likely she was just looking for a tell, some way to show he was lying to throw him back in detention.

Harry's stomach turned violently, the teacup in his hand shook and he pretended to take another long drink to stall, spilling some over his chin before answering he had no clue to this as well.

James couldn't help his high pitched keening noise. Harry was a terrible liar, they'd well established this, so if Umbridge had any uncertainties before, she'd know now Harry did know something.

Harry recognized that look, and flinched with guilt. He could feel tears stinging his eyes in frustration that he couldn't do Sirius any help, that somehow he was in fact going to make this all worse for his Godfather.

Umbridge was not impressed, saying she knew there had been someone in the Gryffindor tower, all the Floo Networks were being watched, except her own of course.

Harry made much the same noise James just had in distress. Remus gave him a sympathetic look for all the wrong reasons, but all they could think of was how upset Harry was he'd be going the rest of the year without talking to Sirius, something none of them had ever had to do.

Her Inquisitorial Squad was going through all mail, Filch keeping an eye on every secret passageway. If she found one shred of evidence-

BOOM!

"Thank you," Sirius nodded solemnly. "I really wanted her to be cut off."

James had to think hard past his unending worries regarding his brother to recall where or why this noise would be made, and had never yet been more grateful for the twins.

The floor shook, Umbridge nearly slipped off her chair, as both looked in surprise to the door. Umbridge took off at once, and Harry only paused long enough to dump his still full cup into a plants vase before darting after her.

"I'm sure that saved your life," Lily shook her head, they still hadn't ruled out that drink being deadly.

He could hear people running and screaming several floors below.

"Well Harry certainly has an alibi now," Remus muttered.

The source was not difficult to find.

"I'd be disappointed if it was," Sirius rolled his eyes.

One floor down, pandemonium reigned. Somebody (and Harry had a very shrewd idea who)

"Flitwick?" James offered helpfully.

"No, no, Crookshanks must have set something off," Sirius said blandly.

"You're both ridiculous," Remus told them fondly, "obviously it was Ginny."

Harry found a smile somewhere in him for their antics. He couldn't help it, they never ceased to be able to do that no matter how heavy his mind got.

had set off what seemed to be an enormous crate of enchanted fireworks.

"Moony," Sirius pouted, "why do you always get the best parts."

Remus scowled at him, honestly thinking that heart failure over what Umbridge could know had hardly been worth discovering whatever the twins were up to, but merely smacked him upside the head in response.

Dragons comprised entirely of green and gold sparks were soaring up and down the corridors, emitting loud fiery blasts and bangs as they went; shocking-pink Catherine wheels five feet in diameter were whizzing lethally through the air like so many flying saucers; rockets with long tails of brilliant silver stars were ricocheting off the walls; sparklers were writing swear words in midair of their own accord; firecrackers were exploding like mines everywhere Harry looked, and instead of burning themselves out, fading from sight or fizzling to a halt, these pyrotechnical miracles seemed to be gaining in energy and momentum the longer he watched.

Filch and Umbridge were standing, apparently transfixed in horror, halfway down the stairs. As Harry watched, one of the larger Catherine wheels seemed to decide that what it needed was more room to manoeuvre; it whirled towards Umbridge and Filch with a sinister 'wheeeeeeeeee'. They both yelled with fright and ducked, and it soared straight out of the window behind them and off across the grounds. Meanwhile, several of the dragons and a large purple bat that was smoking ominously took advantage of the open door at the end of the corridor to escape towards the second floor.**

Umbridge screamed at Filch to stun them before they could get away while firing off the spell herself.

The others had been far too enraptured listening to such descriptions to dare interrupt, but now that it was clear their details had been shut off for now, they still couldn't quite force words of wonder from their mouths, they were actually stunned stupid by something so spectacular occurring in their old hallways.

"The, twins, managed..." Remus trailed off there, words weren't good enough to cover this fantastic feat.

"These are the best kids ever!" Sirius shouted, his vivid imagination nearly not enough to cover this.

"I don't care what we do, we have to make sure at least this is managed again," James stated in no uncertain terms.

Lily was too busy giggling in agreement to add in.

However, the moment the red spell connected with a rocket, it exploded and tore out a chunk of wall. Umbridge at once turned on Filch and told him not to do that as if he'd suggested it.

"I'm not surprised she blames her actions on others," Lily managed to get out less hatefully than normal considering she was still laughing.

Filch needlessly agreed, being a Squib he could do this no more than swallow them,

"No, but I'd like to see him try," Sirius said with enthusiasm.

but instead went for a broom and tried swatting at them, only managing to achieve setting that on fire.

"Probably his most brilliant idea ever," Remus cackled.

Harry ducked away still laughing like crazy, and found the twins in the nearest corridor listening to the chaos with suppressed mirth.

"They've far more restraint than I would have thought," Lily managed while her shoulders still shook. "I would have expected them to proudly be standing under them."

"No sense when everyone will know who did it, but then you can't prove it," James corrected.

Harry told them he was impressed, they'd put Filibuster out of business for sure.

"Well I should hope not," James couldn't stop smirking. "A little healthy competition is good for them."

George whispered he hoped she tried Vanishing them next, that made them multiply by ten.

Impossibly, fresh and renewed laughter began again in here, now they were all wondering the ways these things could get better the more magic you tried to use on them.

The show continued for the rest of the day, often disrupting classes, though the teachers hardly seemed to mind.

"Because we have the best staff ever," Harry managed in between roaring with laughter.

For instance, when a dragon came soaring through the room, McGonagall blandly asked Miss Brown to go fetch their headmistress without out so much as looking up from her desk.

"I miss McGonagall," Remus wheezed out.

The highlight of all this being Umbridge spent her first day as Headmistress running around the castle covered in soot in her attempt to be rid of the firework, whom the teachers seemed incapable of expelling without her around.

"But of course not," Sirius widened his eyes with mock concern despite a few tears still pouring out of them. "We have no idea what kind of magic is behind these, who knows whose subject they relate to," which only managed to fill the room with even more laughter.

Flitwick had even been seen thanking her for the help, after all, he wasn't sure he had the authority to do this himself, before slamming the door in her face.

Lily nearly fell off the couch in utter hysterics, her infant laughing loudly along the only restraint holding her together.

The twins were the heroes of the common room that night, taking orders from everyone in the school for their own set of Weasleys Wildfire Whiz-bangs. Hermione fought her way through just to congratulate them, and they offered to add her to the list for a discount.

She returned to Harry and Ron to find them watching their bags as if hoping the homework would spring out and do itself.

"Wait, wait," James insisted with a rewind motion, and continued with the most important question yet, "did she buy some?"

Harry just blinked innocently without response.

Hermione offered they could do that later as wheel went whizzing past the window.

"I knew it!" Sirius pumped his fist in triumph. "I knew that one had to have more fun in her life than we'd been led to believe."

Ron asked if she was feeling alright, and she happily informed them she was feeling a bit rebellious.

"I'm so proud," James didn't even have to fake rubbing tears from his face.

"Only took her group getting disbanded to admit it," Harry chuckled.

"Though how she went from an illegal study group to not doing homework as rebellious is beyond me," Sirius said only semi-intelligible from laughing so hard.

Even when he headed up to bed they were still going full strong, a sparkler pausing right at their dorm window to write out Poo.

Harry was starting to get worried none of them had stopped laughing for so long, surely they were all going to run out of air soon, and yet none of them could seem to care. This was far too brilliant and a perfect shot of relief after all the stress they'd been dealing with of late.

He got into bed grinning at what Fudge would think when he heard of Umbridge's first day at Dumbledore's job,

"Probably furious," Sirius said with chipper.

"I can only hope it gets worse," Remus insisted with a grin, though he was flabbergasted how after that display.

and how Fudge would react when he heard that the school had spent most of the day in a state of advanced disruption.

"Oh I'm sure he'll find some way to cover it up, that's what he's best at," James rolled his eyes.

The moment he closed his eyes though, he was back in the long dark corridor of the Department of Mysteries, racing to the black door that opened to his touch.

The smiles slipped right off all of their faces like Snape had just appeared into the room. It felt impossible it should happen so fast, but the reminder of this dream and how deep Harry kept going just couldn't feel any good for them as it only reminded them of Voldemort's unexplained connection, and obsession with this place.

He was inside the circular room lined with doors . . . he crossed it, placed his hand on an identical door and it swung inwards . . .

Remus released a sharp breath, he didn't want to keep going, to find out how far Voldemort had gone inside this place. Whatever Voldemort was after it wasn't a good thing, couldn't those fireworks just wake Harry up again already.

Then he was in a new, rectangular room full of odd ticking sounds with odd specks of light, but he didn't investigate and kept pushing on into the next room, which was the largest yet, as big as a cathedral and filled with enormous rows of small, dusty looking spheres...and he knew this was it, he wanted something in here more than anything...and his scar was hurting-

BANG!

Remus finally sighed in relief, shaking slightly from failed adrenalin in the face of coming within arms reach of this mysterious whatever it was. He glanced up at the others, to see if they had any idea of what to make of that new information, when he saw Harry in a right state.

His face was screwed up tight, once tears of mirth now clearly were burning out from something far more unbearable. It was heartbreaking, to watch him flip so drastically all because his mind was forced to live through so many things at one time, things he couldn't even put into words without fearing something far worse happening than just pain.

Lily was trying to surge forward even still cradling her infant, but James beat her to the punch, trying to make his sitting on the edge of the couch casual even as he hovered over Harry in pure agitation he couldn't be of more help than this.

They all wanted to do more, say something for him, but he seemed paralyzed with pain, and Remus would do anything to help him, and so he did the only thing he could think of.

Harry awoke back in his dorm, confused and angry to hear laughter all around him, Seamus shouting about how cool that was,

"No, no it isn't," James grumbled petulantly as he continued to rub at Harry's back.

Remus agreed, having to fight hard to keep his attention on the book.

all four of them crowded around a window where a wheel and a rocket seemed to have mated.

It took an extra moment for them to reel back and remember what they'd just been laughing so hard about, and Harry wished he could feel more regret for ruining their moment of fun instead of always being the source of a problem with his blasted mind.

Harry did not get up and join them, instead left stewing with disappointment, like he'd been denied a wonderful treat.

Harry forced out a laugh that sounded nothing but hollow to everyone, even his own ears. He almost longed for that feeling now, it would be better than the wash of other things he kept feeling as a constant mention of that place continued to make him sick with worry.

A glittering pink and silver winged piglets was now soaring past the windows of Gryffindor Tower outside, actually catching Harry's attention.

Lily opened and closed her mouth in fasciation, longing to just go back and marvel at the twins magic with these things, and yet never having been less interested in magic as her child fought to retain any sense of normality.

Yet he still could not and join the whoops of joy from those around him, as he now remembered he had an Occlumency lesson the following evening.

"Oh boy," Sirius grumbled distastefully, while Harry somehow managed to look all the more worried about that.

He spent the whole day worrying what Snape's reaction was going to be when he saw Harry had gotten even farther, and his guilt only rose when he realized how long it had been since he'd bothered practicing his Occlumency.

"Can't even blame you," James shook his head pitifully for everything Harry went through on a daily basis, how Dumbledore, Snape, or anyone expected Harry to empty his mind of all that was beyond him.

There had been too much going on since Dumbledore had left; he was sure he would not have been able to empty his mind even if he had tried.

"Honestly understandable," Remus sighed, his heavy eyes hadn't really gained much back with so many sleepless nights in a row from here, he could imagine it being just as bad in the months for Harry with longer to dread on these things than they gave themselves.

He doubted, however, whether Snape would accept that excuse.

Lily made a deep throated noise of agitation, entirely not looking forward to what Snape was going to say to him about this.

He tried to empty his mind during classes, which helped nothing as teachers kept shooting review questions around.

"Well I could have warned you of that," Sirius tried for a smile that still felt forced. They'd gone from roaring laughter to sickened with worry about Harry in the span of a second, and now nothing was being helped by the tense set up of another bout of Snape insults directed at Harry.

He trudged miserably down to the dungeons that night, and was very grateful for the distraction of spotting Cho. She'd been standing there watching the hour-glasses, Gryffindor's was nearly empty.

All five of them made a small little noise of agitation, even at something so small still so pestering as that blasted made up group of Malfoy's.

He asked how she was doing, if Umbridge had given her any grief for her membership of the DA.

Cho said no, but took the opportunity to say she'd never dreamed Marietta would tell on them.

Harry reflected back that Marietta was still in the hospital wing with her pimples and couldn't come up with a response for Cho for that.

All of them felt a vindictive laugh somewhere inside themselves for that, Hermione really was something special.

Cho kept going she was a lovely person, she'd just made a mistake.

James blinked in surprise, and just a little admiration for Cho still standing by her friend like that. He of course wanted to add a few more curses to Marietta for what she'd done to Harry, but Cho had just earned herself a few points.

Harry looked at her incredulously, demanding a mistake? She'd sold all of them out!

"I still wish I had some sort of motive for her doing that," Remus scowled.

"Not one good enough to excuse it," Sirius scoffed.

James and Lily frowned slightly, knowing they more than likely would have defended their friends if they'd done the same thing, but then again, they just couldn't imagine their friends doing this. Cho probably hadn't either, and it really was good of her still sticking with her through that.

Cho insisted everyone had gotten away.

"Thanks to Dumbledore," Remus shook his head slowly, he still wasn't quite sure how to wrap his mind around all of that.

Her mum works for the Ministry,

"I haven't forgotten," Sirius said in disgust with a slight shiver. Miss Edgecombe had nearly been the death of him, he wasn't likely to forget that.

Harry cut off to say so did his friends dad, and he didn't have sneak written across his face.

Cho snapped that was a terrible trick of Hermione's.

"Nah," James smirked, honestly considering this Hermione's best move yet, even trumping what she'd done to Skeeter.

She should have told she'd jinxed that paper.

"Well if she'd done that than hardly anyone would have signed it." Lily rolled her eyes.

"She could have told them all after the fact," Remus offered with a grin.

"Nah, this was much more fun, the person couldn't consider their consequences before they made the crappy decision," Sirius decided.

Cho scoffed that of course if Hermione had thought it a good idea, her eyes now bright.

Harry snapped at her not to start crying again.

"Harry, you do know that does not actually prevent anyone from crying?" Sirius asked him in concern.

Harry just huffed, he really hadn't been expecting this fight with Cho, but somehow was relieved for it to finally have happened all the same. However pretty she still was in his memories, her flat refusal to acknowledge the stupid thing her friend had done had finally driven out any feelings he had for her.

She shouted back she wasn't going to!

Harry said just as loudly good, he had enough to cope with.

She told him to go cope with it then before storming off.

"Well, I think that's done with," James gazed at the book with some pity for Harry's first crush having so many disasters back to back.

"The wrong sparks did fly," Remus agreed with a sad little smile.

Harry just clucked his tongue, still not as angry now as he was then, far more concerned with other things in his mind he couldn't reach, and that cemented it for the lot of them. Harry clearly didn't seem to care all that much for his relationship with Cho just evaporating.

Harry went off in an even worse temper, but now instead of dreading Snape, he was thinking of a few more things he'd have liked to have said to Cho.

"You're one of those who always comes up with the comebacks after the fact," James told Harry pleasantly.

"I premake up most of mine and wait for the situation," Sirius smirked.

"Suppose that leaves more room for you to follow the conversation," Lily snipped at him.

He arrived with Snape once again depositing memories into a Pensive.

"Just what does he keep in that?" Remus rolled his eyes.

Harry twitched hard in unease, he had a bad feeling he was about to find out, but it mostly went unnoticed as they all thought he was just preparing himself for another lash of Occlumency.

They began as usual, squaring off with wands out on either side of the desk, but before Snape could cast this time, the door banged open and Malfoy sped in.

"I'm surprised that hasn't happened before now," James rolled his eyes, "him barging in there to tattle on some first year Slytherin taking his favorite chair."

"What a sight to walk in on though," Remus raised a curious brow, he'd certainly pause at this with some concern.

He paused in shock upon the sight though, Snape lowering his wand first and asking what Draco needed.

Remus rolled his eyes, finding Snape referring to Malfoy by his first name really showed the depths to the two's relationship. The teachers should always refer to the student by last name out of sheer habit. He found this proof that Snape had a more familiar relationship with Malfoy, as if he'd needed it before now.

Potter was just here for remedial Potions.

"With their wands pointed at each other," Sirius emphasized. "If that wasn't a dumb enough excuse before, it gets worse every time."

Harry had not seen Malfoy look so gleeful since Umbridge had turned up to inspect Hagrid.

"And I know how much you long to see that expression," Lily scowled.

He would have given a great deal to be able to shout the truth at Malfoy,

"Why?" All four of them demanded of him.

"To make that stupid look disappear," Harry told them like he thought they were being very stupid on purpose.

or, even better, to hit him with a good curse.

"That's the response I was expecting," James nodded, feeling the world back on balance.

Malfoy put whatever he had to say about this on hold as he informed that Umbridge had requested his Professor,

"She's already tried to poison one student this week, I don't see how he could help with that," Sirius rolled his eyes.

Lily wanted to be more furious that Snape was in Umbridge's good graces like this, but then again, it was all the more sad she wasn't surprised considering how much the two seemed so alike.

They'd found Montague,

Sirius spluttered like he had a broken jaw.

"They did that how long ago?" Remus interpreted. "I think that's a new record."

"Ours only lasted a day, tops," James pouted.

"What even is that thing?" Harry demanded, quite sure his level of unease with this thing had nothing to do with the Slytherin Quidditch captains fait.

"You shove people in it, and they vanish," Sirius came back enough to helpfully explain.

Remus rolled his eyes at his inept friend and more properly said, "I'm sure you remember as vividly as we do that Nick broke one above Filch's office in your second year."

Harry nodded eagerly, he was still wondering what about that felt so significant. "Well there's matching pairs, always are. The one on the first floor the twins used is probably the still functioning one, but without the other to go through, it'll just leave you in limbo until it finds an opening to pop you out, but the magic is very vague about it all, and we have no clue what it's indications were when this would happen."

"It was pure need to understand such magic that we kept testing it," James offered with an impish smirk.

Remus' mouth was twitching in much the same way as he watched Harry curiously to see if he'd gotten it.

Harry wanted to smile back, but his mind felt torn in two. He still wanted to ask more about these things, but something about the Marauders and that look on their face...it was all fun now, but he had a feeling it bothered him for some reason soon.

He tried tentatively to understand all of this by asking slowly, "so, when you lot, err-"

"Put someone in cause they annoyed us," Sirius offered helpfully.

"Right," Harry paused to roll his eyes, "it just pushed the person out the other one?"

"We had to disable it for our needs to work," James's eyes widened innocently. "It was no fun if they just reappeared."

"We put it back together when we were done though," Remus still couldn't wipe a smirk away. "Couldn't have the teachers knowing we were messing with it."

"Never as badly as what Nick did though," Sirius was still laughing heavily, "so Merlin knows if they even are fixable now."

"Let me get this straight," Lily said dangerously. "You shoved people into a magical item, you had no clue what it would do to them, and then you continued to further break it apart to see what else would happen to them?"

"It happened to me first," Remus offered in defense of them. "Some Hufflepuff James had gotten last week shoved me into one for revenge, I made a reappearance a day later."

"It sort of just spiraled out from there," Sirius agreed.

Lily had spent the entire conversation frowning heavily at the lot of them, she'd never enjoyed hearing about their blatant ways of dealing with people that annoyed them. It was nice to see Harry wasn't exactly amused by this, but he was also clearly distracted by something so she wasn't sure how much he'd been paying attention past their actual words.

Absolutely none of Harry's thoughts had been helped by them, now not only was he positive something of these things should not be laughed at, but his lesson with Snape was feeling more foreboding than ever. He still nodded at Remus to indicate he was done for now.

he'd turned up jammed inside a toilet on the fourth floor.

James and Sirius roared with laughter, Remus trying hard to hide his own amusement behind the book and failing a bit.

Snape demanded how he'd wound up there, and Malfoy said he had no clue.

Snape dismissed Potter, saying he was to come back tomorrow to continue. Malfoy only paused long enough to mouth remedial potions at him before following.

"That's going to bite him in the arse later," Lily tisked loudly, though it hardly did anything to dampen the boys new found amusement. They'd gotten to hear the end results of yet another prank from the twins and had Snape's stupid lesson pushed off for a moment longer, they were now jovial, and hoped their mood would help Harry out of whatever funk his mind was clearly still stuck in.

Seething, Harry replaced his wand inside his robes and made to leave the room. At least he had twenty-four more hours in which to practice;

"There's the bright side," Lily persisted in pointing out, though clearly being ignored by all.

but all he really felt was the expense Malfoy was going to put into telling the school of his remedial Potions.

"I'm surprised Smith hadn't done that already," Sirius rolled his eyes.

He was at the door when he saw it, dappled lights dancing off the glass jars, that reminded him of his dream in the Department of Mysteries.

All five of them shivered heavily at the reminder, Harry looked ready to fall off the couch every time this was mentioned.

He turned around and saw it was only the Pensive still shining brightly, and wondered again what was in his memories?

"So quickly run from the room, otherwise you might see him again when you've so graciously been deprived of that," James said enthusiastically, he really hadn't a care for what could be in there.

Harry gazed at the Pensive, curiosity welling inside him, what was it that Snape was so keen to hide from Harry?

"Oh Harry," Lily sighed in exhaustion, wanting to press her face into her hands already as she felt where this was going. "Did you learn nothing from your lesson in Dumbledore's Pensive?"

Harry did not answer, though considering the feelings pumping through him, he was confident he hadn't thought that far ahead.

Harry took a step forward, his mind convincing him this must have something to do with the Department of Mysteries.

"I wouldn't honestly be that surprised," Remus agreed, "but you've no idea how to work that thing, so you'll just be plunged into the last thing he was thinking of when he put memories in there."

"Though that may honestly be it," Sirius said with a calmer tone creeping in Remus instantly regretted. "He wasn't hiding away private memories from his childhood, those were still in his head when Harry went in. Maybe it is Order business he's more worried about. If Harry wants to find out about them, this is the place I'd look."

"You're encouraging this," Lily yelped furiously. "Show some privacy!"

"He's not showing Harry any," James rolled his eyes, instantly tagging along to Sirius' side. Though he did raise his hands in surrender upon Lily's flashing eyes. "I wish he wouldn't, he has no way to get himself out of the memory, only Snape can do that, but I'm sick of him never being told anything and I know you are too."

Lily scowled heavily at the both of them as she didn't find that the point.

He tried to guess how long Snape would be gone, surely as the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, even after Montague was unstuck from the toilet, he'd be escorted to the hospital wing.

"The time frame is irrelevant," Remus scolded. "You weren't the one to put those memories in, so you can't pull yourself out until you've seen them all. Could be days worth of storage in there."

Harry wished he'd known that, but again, he now knew he hadn't thought that far ahead, and he had a bad feeling he'd soon regret it.

He stepped even farther forward, using his wand to tap the surface, and the image instantly turned so that Harry was now looking down into the Great Hall.

"Not at all what I was hoping for," Sirius sighed, he'd honestly been hoping for Dumbledore's office, or even Grimmauld places basement, something he'd been hoping for in relevance to whatever Snape was up to. An image of Voldemort, Snape talking to some member of the Order, anything other than what the man had for breakfast. There was no way something interesting to them happened in there, he'd probably just been admiring Umbridge's technique of making children cry.

He hesitated, but suddenly his anger seized him, of Snape, Cho, and Malfoy. He took a great breath, and plunged face first in.

"There you have it," Remus sighed without surprise. "Harry's a dead man."

"So he is some new kind of ghost," Sirius chuckled while prodding at Harry. "Fascinating, can I name him?"

"No," all four of them said at once.

The sensation of falling through black, spinning through nothing- and then he was standing in the great hall, except instead of the House tables, there were desks all over, quills scratching against parchment, it was clearly exam time.

"Huh?" James looked floored at this start, why would something of Snape's school years be so precious to hide away? He couldn't imagine doing the same.

"I know exams are close so they'd be on his mind, but this is ridiculous," Sirius rolled his eyes and yawned already out of sheer boredom.

Remus kept going blandly, and some disappointment. Harry was going to be in the worst amount of trouble yet, and apparently he wasn't even going to get to see anything good out of it.

He began looking around in the sunlight room for the man, this was his memory so he had to be here somewhere.

Though James did smirk a bit Harry may get a glimpse of him, he was sure his son would at least get a kick out of that.

When he did find him, it was a teenage version with a stringy, pallid look, like a plant in the dark.

Lily scoffed heavily and rolled her eyes, finding too much of his father's influence in that description. She'd always thought of him as a sickly pale, thin hair a silky black, admittedly too thin but still with a smile that drew her in to know what he was thinking. She supposed it was all in the eye of the beholder, as that was still how she'd describe him at fifteen. Picturing him now as the hateful man tormenting her son and his classmates, she may well have called him many of the same things Harry just had.

He read the parchment he was working on upside down, which said Defence Against the Dark Arts- Ordinary Wizarding Level.

"Uhoh," James hummed in concern, suddenly hurrying back to his Lily Flowers side, he hadn't expected it to be this exact OWL.

Lily felt a burning in the back of her eyes at once, this was her worst childhood memory. Far worse than anything Petunia had ever said to her as a child. Of all the things Snape would keep stored away, she could almost understand why he'd want to keep this one in particular away from Harry. Shame she would hope, for utterly humiliating her that day, though she was sure it was something far more related to his own status, just like always, considering the events having led up to that.

Harry watched his parents with wide eyed concern for this reaction, looking to the other two for some sort of explanation he could already feel he wasn't going to like, but they were avoiding his eye. This really had been just any other day to them, but for Lily, well this was still something she should have shared with Harry, what a way for the poor kid to find out.

Remus waited until Lily snapped at him to keep going before he could do this to her, though it hardly felt better with permission.

The call for five more minutes echoed around, and Harry saw Professor Flitwick up front, passing by a boy with untidy black hair, that stuck up in the back.

James sighed, not exactly thrilled he'd gotten his wish. He hadn't nearly paid Snape back in kind for what he'd called the love of his life that day, still, he hoped Harry at least enjoyed his attempts.

Harry moved so fast that had he been tangible, he would have sent desks flying as he moved to see his father at fifteen. It was like looking at himself with deliberate mistakes.

"That is a very good description for the pair," Remus muttered mostly to himself.

His eyes were hazel, his nose slightly longer and with no scar, but the thin face, and untidy black hair were all Harry's, they'd even be the same height.

"You weren't wearing your glasses," Harry noted, grinning wildly at finally having such a vivid memory of his dad at such a young age. He clung to that feeling as long as he could, there was definitely something off about this promising it wouldn't last.

"They're only reading glasses, I only use them for long periods, or something important," James shrugged. "The exams weren't long enough I bothered."

James yawned and looked right through Harry to grin at a boy a few seats back, and Harry felt another thrill upon spotting Sirius return the grin. He was leaning back in his seat, tilting it back on two legs and very aware of how good-looking he was.

Sirius snorted mirthlessly and gave James a very superior smirk, telling without a hint of remorse, "I knew I loved your kid. He only called you a thin, messy git. At least he acknowledges who the handsome one is."

James gave him a very heavy glare, even while fighting back a grin for his best friends endless teasing.

His dark hair was swept with an elegance James nor Harry could ever achieve, and he was completely ignoring a girl who was eyeing him as well.

Sirius' grin only widened, turning outright flippant, and Harry was quite sure he was going to be given an account of this girl and all sorts of details he never would have asked for, but Remus had not paused long enough to be of help, to Harry's relief.

Two seats away and another row back, Harry spotted Remus, looking peaky, and he wondered if a full moon was near.

"It was that Monday, actually," Remus mumbled.

Harry blinked in surprise. Not only did it wrench at him for Remus to know so explicitly when each was, meaning they must all stand out very clearly in his mind and that only emphasized how painful each must be, but even after a few days rest Remus was only just starting to look healthier. In the days leading up he'd grown quite pale and exhausted at all hours, he couldn't imagine having to study on top of all that.

Harry concluded that must also mean Wormtail was around here somewhere.

Remus flinched hard at the reminder, not even needing to glance up and see the others as well. Harry had never actually known him as more than the traitor, but it was still impossible for them to think back on nearly any memory from their time here without finding him as well. Now they were being force fed one! Snape's memory had just turned into the worst thing for all of them.

Sure enough Harry found the mousy-haired boy with a pointed nose biting at his nails as he scratched at his paper.

Sirius' features were twisted violently, he still felt that need pulsing through him at every small reminder of him to go and rip his head off. The forcible act of not being able to respond to this made him feel like he was on fire just sitting here instead. He'd learned his lesson, he'd just have to be patient...

He turned his attention back to James and saw he was doodling now, having already drawn a Snitch, and now working in detail on the letters L. E. He wondered what that stood for.

Lily fidgeted with a few strands of hair in unease while eyeing James, who wasn't even blushing at the reminder. The unease came from that very sharp hurt her son hadn't known her maiden name, or at least, hadn't put together what it would mean. Instead she sighed heavily and flippantly told him, "I suppose it's better than L. P."

James offered her a wide grin for the tone, wanting to hold her even closer than he was for her still taking shots at him rather than dwelling on this particular memory from her past.

Finally time was up, Flitwick summoned all of the exams to him, and James took to his feet and stuffed the paper and quill away into his bag,

"It literally just said Flitwick summoned all the papers to him," Harry scratched at his head in confusion.

"You mark your final answers on the exam," Sirius explained, "Prongs was still messing with his scratch paper."

"Couldn't students still know what to expect on the exam then?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Nope, the exam changes every year," Remus sighed.

which he slung over his back, and stood waiting for Sirius to join him.

"I always had to walk over to his arse," Sirius said with an exaggerated eye roll. "If I wasn't the one to meet him, he'd pop me on the head for making him walk."

"Hark, look who's getting memory problems of his own," James tisked. "If I walked up to you, you'd groan about me making you wait around, at least if I waited long enough you'd get bored and come to me."

"They are actually arguing about who walked over to whom the most," Remus informed the other two like they'd miss this.

"I'm aware," Lily shook her head in exasperation, "I'm waiting for you to cut them off already."

Remus hadn't just because he enjoyed watching them pick at each other so much, especially with memory of the one who was missing hovering right there in front of them, but he supposed he couldn't ignore it forever and instead kept going in hopes Harry would blot him from sight.

Harry spotted Snape leaving the Entrance Hall, oblivious to his surroundings and still studying his own paper, even his walk reminded him of a twitchy spider.

James snorted enthusiastically Harry so easily caught onto one of their favorite jokes of referring to him as a bug in every way.

A gang of chattering girls separated Snape from James, Sirius and Lupin, and by planting himself in their midst,

Remus twitched again in agitation, though it was slightly less so than moments before. He supposed that being referred to by his last name was still better than not having been mentioned at all like the other one, though he still had to remind himself it was his own fault Harry hadn't a reason to call him anything else.

and by planting himself in the middle he was able to keep in sight those he wanted to see and still be in Snape's company.

By ignoring those around him, he could still hear Sirius happily asking Moony if he'd enjoyed question ten.

Lupin agreed he'd loved it, name the ten signs that mark a werewolf. One, he's sitting in this chair, two, he's wearing clothes, three, check the name at the heading.

Lily felt a surprised giggle crack out of her before she could stop it.

"Ha!" Sirius barked in triumph. "See Prongs, told you you should have let Moony try some humor around her, she clearly doesn't partake to yours."

"And have the love of my life swoon over his brilliance," James insisted on looking mock affronted while he played along. "I'd rather kill them both."

"It's a wonder I didn't fall into your arms sooner," she told him drolly.

Wormtail was the only one who didn't laugh, instead groaning that he'd only gotten three, but he couldn't remember the last two.

James was aghast, considering he ran around with one once a month.

All five of them were turning an ugly gray color for having to see this, to relive it and be forced to once again come to terms with how close they all were, saying anything and everything to each other as they'd always done, when did that change for him?

Lupin implored him to keep his voice down as they headed outside to the lake, and Harry was worried that if Snape broke off, he'd have no choice but to follow.

"True," James tried in vain to keep the strain from his voice, failing miserably. "You'd be dragged along." His voice cracked at the end, he couldn't pretend to keep going, and was starting to more than pity Remus at having to be forced to read all this.

Clearly Harry was as well, whispering, "did you want me to-"

"No," he snapped without looking up. "May as well get on with it, not like he's actually doing anything." Except ruining more memories from his past, his biting innards were now constantly reminding, but they were all feeling the same way, it would help nothing for Harry to do this instead.

Sirius kept things going by stating that had been a piece of cake to him, he'd gotten at least an Outstanding.

"And did you?" Harry couldn't help but ask, infusing as much mirth into his voice as was possible.

Sirius watched Harry for a long moment with a set look in place that was all the answer he needed before he finally admitted, "no, got an E."

"We did though," James tipped his head towards Remus with a purposeful grin that didn't completely hide the hard set in his eyes. "Gave him hell for it."

"He probably missed one too many questions about harpies, getting them confused with himself and all," Remus told solemnly, at least this was one thing that rat could never take away, and they'd always find more ways to pick at each other.

"At least I got an O on my Transfiguration that someone got an A on." Sirius returned flatly, but there was finally a real grin coming back as well.

"You cheated," Remus insisted. "The lot," very heavy wince, "both of you," he quickly corrected. "Bloody extra practice and all, too many years ahead."

"You're just jealous you got O's in two classes to my three," Sirius insisted.

"Padfoot the only thing I'm jealous at you about is your never ending idiocy. How do you continue to make a fool of yourself?" Remus pleasantly returned.

James had only just opened his mouth to butt in as well when Lily cut in above them all with a relieved smile on her face. "Honestly, the lot of you, you're still arguing about this how many years later? You're all idiots, no matter what those grades said."

"There's my wife, keeping us all in perspective with her- how many OWLs did you get?" He suddenly broke off by asking her, she'd never answered him in school and it hadn't come up in recent times.

"I'm not telling," she insisted with a grin, "because it is pointless now." She honestly admired all of them, for still finding ways to make each other laugh with the rat being so vividly present now more than ever, but they couldn't ignore this forever. Remus paused and had to swallow hard before going back, when all he really wanted to do was snap this shut, he didn't want to reminisce about what came next any more than the couple.

James agreed himself as well as he pulled out a Snitch, almost casually letting it go before seizing it again with excellent reflexes.

James managed quite a pleased smile he'd impressed his son with his fun.

Wormtail watched him in awe.

Which vanished instantly, his face flushing red, though he was still so pale he looked more pink and still likely to start screaming if he had to keep remembering how much he'd enjoyed his friend indulging his every whim.

Much to Harry's relief, Snape folded himself into a nearby bush, while the group of four took up shade near a beach tree. By staying with the group of girls who were in the middle and now dipping bare feet into water, he could still be in between both.

Lily was brushing at her hair with vigor now, her nails catching on a few strands. This memory had replayed so many times so vividly in her head she didn't need Harry's descriptions, and vainly hoped that for once, this time would be different, that her son wouldn't even recognize her because nothing special had happened that day...

Lupin had pulled out a book and was reading.

"Don't even start Sirius," Remus told him without looking up. "It's my misfortune of the universe repeating these circumstances."

"But it's hilarious," Sirius insisted like Moony was missing on the joke of a lifetime.

"No, it's not," Remus rolled his eyes behind the pages and kept going loudly.

Sirius stared around at the students milling over the grass, looking rather haughty and bored, but very handsomely so.

Sirius flipped his hair over his shoulder and preened, Harry fighting the urge more every moment to tell his godfather to cool it. Normally his bravado was endearing, and hilarious, though that part was probably unintentional. He couldn't even really find anything wrong with this scene that should bother him, aside from Wormtail they seemed to be acting casually enough, why was the idea of being in here weighing so heavily on him he wanted to snap at all of them?

James was still playing with the Snitch, letting it zoom further and further away, almost escaping but always grabbed at the last second.

Harry remembered his mum and dad mentioning that earlier, and now realized why he would have seen this. He supposed he could see his mums point in him showing off a bit, but it's not as if he had an audience watching like the twins so often did, he was just entertaining himself.

Wormtail was watching with an open mouth, often cheering and applauding at the more wild catches. After nearly five minutes of this, Harry wondered why James didn't tell him to get a grip.

Underneath the visage from being so bluntly reminded of his many fond memories of this, some shock creeped through, as that had never even occurred to him. Why would it? He'd loved impressing everyone, especially his own friends. Tainted as it was now, he was left questioning all of this for the first time. Was Peter faking it? Was he actually envious? He still hadn't gotten his answer of why someone he cared so much for would do to him in their future.

James was clearly enjoying the attention though, occasionally ruffling his hair,

Harry had noticed his dad doing that quite a lot, and he almost smiled just a bit that no matter the torment his friend's reminder did to him, at least some parts of him had stayed the same.

and glancing to the girls at the water's edge as if hoping they were watching.

Finally though, Sirius seemed to grow bored of this and told James to put that up.

James did, and Harry had the distinct feeling Sirius was the only one he'd do this for.

"This is true," Remus tisked loudly over his own beating heart pounding through his head, despising the reminder of this hurting them all so much, and Harry may not even understand why yet. It was clear from his expression something of this day was bothering them all, but while he could wrap his head around it was the not so simple thing of vividly remembering Wormtail back in their lives so casually for the Marauders, he was yet sure what had his mother so near to tears.

He forced himself to keep going loudly with his first train of thought, even in the awkward silence. "Whenever I tried, he just told me to shut up, because he was doing it for me."

"Honestly, the only reason I told him to stop was because I was fixing to suggest we go take a swim in the lake, otherwise I would have joined him," Sirius shrugged, ignoring how forced the casual movement was.

Sirius instead said he was bored, wishing it was a full moon.

Lupin said from behind his book he would, but if he really wanted something to do, he could quiz him on some Transfiguration, even offering it out to him.

"Did you actually think that would work?" Lily arched a brow at him.

"I didn't want to go swimming, as I knew full well he was fixing to say," Remus shrugged. "I was delaying for a moment so I could claim to go back inside and work in peace."

Sirius simply snorted, saying he didn't need to look at that, he knew it all.

"That is also true," Remus muttered with an eye roll Harry must have missed at the time.

James got his attention by finding something else to liven up Padfoot, and Sirius turned like a dog that had scented a rabbit.

"Your descriptions are as accurate as ever," James told Harry with a straight face, but Sirius merely winced instead of the laugh he really felt. The two weren't exactly proud they'd started this fight between Evans and Snivellus. Sirius watched Lily tentatively, a need to defend himself this was common place, he hadn't known he'd resort to calling her that when this exact set up had happened countless times in their past already without such a thing happening, but the words died before they could start. An apology would probably just make her angrier, but now at him.

He softly said in excitement Snivellus, and Harry looked to where Snape was standing back up, James and Sirius now with him.

Lily groaned miserably as she kept eyes on her infant. James and Sirius exchanged a look, but as one decided to risk it and said, "sorry Lily."

"Don't bother," she snapped, clearly Sirius' prediction had been right. "You don't mean it."

"I am sorry," James insisted. "I never would have thought he'd-"

"You're sorry for what he did," Lily corrected harshly, "not for what you did, so save it."

James closed his mouth without bothering to agree, and Harry's bad feeling was growing worse than ever. This wasn't really...

Lupin and Wormtail remained where they were, Lupin keeping eyes on his book though his eyes were not following words. Wormtail was watching with a look of anticipation.

Remus' face folded as he easily recalled that look. He'd used to love seeing all the spells they learned in class in action on others. He hated how much it hurt to remember even the tiniest details about him. Thankfully Sirius and James were now plenty distracted by Lily they seemed more apt to ignoring this, but since Remus had kept himself out of this one, it was a bit harder for him to continue ignoring the rats every motion.

James repeated the nickname loudly after him, and Snape reacted so fast it was as if he'd been expecting the attack.

"He was, considering-" Sirius began with a sneer, now itching for a rematch just to let off some pent up frustration all of this was dragging up, which he sadly wasn't going to find in here. He only stopped as Lily glared at him with an old familiar look he hadn't seen in awhile, and that wasn't helping to clear his mind of this.

He dropped his bag and went for his wand, but before it had even cleared his pocket, James had shot Expelliarmus at him.

Snape's wand shot twelve feet away, Sirius letting out a bark of laughter before shouting Impedimenta, and Snape fell to the ground still feet away from his wand.

All three of them were so distracted, tense and waiting for a blow they never would have wished upon Lily, they all missed the look growing on Harry's face at recalling this scene.

The students around looked up curiously, some even eagerly as James and Sirius sauntered forward.

James began taunting how his exam had gone?

Sirius answered for him he'd seen his nose pressed to the parchment, it would be so grease marked no one could even read the answers.

Several people laughed, Snape was clearly unpopular.

"Least you've gathered the important details already," Sirius told Harry absently, glancing at him for a moment rather than watching Lily, and blinking in surprise Harry hadn't laughed along like he always had when they'd taken shots at Snape in here. Sirius wasn't actually sure what that face was, but he now frowned more heavily than ever for what Harry was thinking without sharing.

Wormtail sniggered shrilly.

Remus made a guttural noise of agitation, wishing Harry would quit noting such things already. They were all well aware if it wasn't Sirius and James starting the fight it was him egging them all on, but Harry reminding them of that only made this all far worse than they would have thought.

The boy on the ground snapped at them to just wait until he got his wand ba-, but Sirius didn't give him a chance, finishing for him to wait for what, him to wipe his nose?

Snape began saying curses and hexes intermittently, but still nothing happened from his wand still ten feet away.

James decided he didn't like his language and used Scourgify on him, causing bubbles to come out of Snape's mouth.

A new voice shouted to leave him alone!

"That actually took two curses longer than usual," James insisted on pushing for a casual tone of voice when addressing Lily. "Exactly how long had you been on the fence about him before this happened?"

Lily pursed her lips, not particularly wanting to answer him, and then she glanced at Harry and saw the look on his face. The expression surprised her, but she supposed he'd put together what this day was for her, but if he clearly had no care for the answer than she wouldn't indulge James' curiosity on this.

When her silence persisted, Remus kept going anyways. James had been well aware, as often as he'd mentioned it, that Lily had been seen out of company of Snape more often than not their last few months of fifth year, so he didn't know what his mate was trying to accomplish by asking such things, but he would try to save him from the answer anyways.

James and Sirius looked around at a girl with dark red hair and green eyes, Harry's mother.

James eagerly at once called out to Evans, making his voice go deeper, more mature.

Remus made some attempt at a laugh, speaking absently, "more idiotic than anything," but he didn't even pause for James to defend himself even if he would have.

Lily repeated for them to leave him alone, looking at James with great dislike.

Sirius was looking for it now, and watched another line cross Harry's face, his eyes growing as tight as his mothers for all of this coming back to him. Sirius wanted to reassure him that as bad as it was for Lily to be remembering all of this, that part was the common place, but he didn't want to interrupt right now in hopes Remus was almost done already, or even better, the actual Snape would show up and stop this. Quite an odd want, but it was killing him to watch this eat away at Lily, and he'd never have wanted Harry to see this in person, it was bad enough being told what the creep had once done to his mother.

She demanded what Snape had done to him?

"This time, you really should have emphasized that point," James told her, though she continued ignoring him in hopes he'd take the hint this wasn't helping. She pulled out of his arms and laid against the armrest instead, the baby still cradled tight in her arms her only comfort right now.

James looked hurt, he'd only been trying to help, but for now he crossed his arms and gave her her space.

James pretended to deliberate before deciding it was more the fact he existed.

James still found that to be true, that Snape had grown up knowing Lily and never seemed to value that enough but instead spent far more time in the company of pre Death Eaters, that his mere existence felt like a blocker to what James wanted more than anything, to be close to her, but there was always that sniveling used napkin in the way that Lily kept defending.

Harry made some kind of noise, but James was too distracted watching Lily to process it. He supposed Harry would have been plenty confused about all this in his time though.

Many of the surrounding students laughed, Sirius and Wormtail included, but Lupin, still apparently intent on his book, didn't, and nor did Lily.

Remus glanced up curiously, he'd felt Harry turn sharply to him and watched for a moment in confusion as Harry scrutinized him, but was he really looking at him like that because he hadn't laughed at the joke? Harry didn't offer anything though, and Remus went back to reading feeling as heavy as ever this couldn't just be done with. He almost would have preferred Harry to interrupt, it probably would have been a better distraction than forcing out this mess.

She coldly informed him he was a bullying toe rag, and to leave him alone.

James said he would if she'd go out with him.

"Bad timing there mate," Sirius helpfully inserted what he'd been thinking at the time.

"Thank you for not sharing that at the time," James rolled his eyes, "wish you'd carried that on."

Lily said she wouldn't even if it was just between him and the giant squid.

"Would you look it there, I beat out that sea creature after all," James seemed to almost pleasantly inform her, and he saw almost a twitching smile come back to her.

Sirius commiserated to Prongs this was bad luck before shouting in surprise, but too late.

Snape had been fighting off the curse this whole time, and had finally reached his wand, shooting a spell at James that cut across his cheek and splattered his robes with blood.

James whirled on the spot, there was a flash of light, and then Snape was hanging upside down showing off gray underpants.

Lily, whose furious expression twitched into a smile for just a moment,

"Really? I didn't see that," James blinked in surprise, he hadn't thought he'd gotten a real smile out of Lily for at least another year. How many other times had he made her smile without getting the pleasure of seeing? More importantly, how long had Snape been acting an arse to her before this happened for her to be doing it so openly now?

No one answered, especially not Harry, who was still processing all this so slowly he felt like his head had filled with molasses. All he was sure of, was that he didn't feel like laughing along right now like his dad was clearly hoping someone was.

but instead shouted at Potter to let him down.

James did so with a careless wave of his wand, but the moment he was back in the grass, Sirius shot Petrificus Totalus at him, and Snape fell back to the ground stiff as a bored.

"Payback complete, now where's a broomshed," Sirius muttered for himself.

Lily shrieked at them to leave him alone, drawing her own wand. The two looked at it warily.

"The first proper response of their day," Remus agreed absently.

James told Evans not to make him hex her.

"That would be a duel to see," Sirius hummed, though thankfully it had never gone that far, and at least now it never would. Lily mostly just shouted at them, and that was more than enough to stop Prongs, which in turn was just enough to stop the rest of them.

She snapped for the curse to be lifted then, and James did so with a deep sigh first before telling Snivellus he was lucky Evans was here-

Remus wanted to stop. He dreaded the next words to come pouring out of his mouth, because usually, the fight stopped there. Lily came forward and her and Snape walked off. This time though, he had to take a very deep breath before finishing.

Snape shouted back he didn't need help from a Mudblood!

Remus frowned hatefully, never in his life having wanted to say that word, and detesting he truly just had in regards to one of his friends.

Harry gasped, as it finally snapped together for him. She'd told him she'd stopped being friends with Snape because he'd called her that in public one day, screamed it at her in the middle of a courtyard, were her exact words...but he hadn't realized it had been this exact day! He looked desperately to her, but she wouldn't look at him, wouldn't look at any of them.

James was aching to put his arms back around her, to promise she wasn't alone, but she didn't want his comfort right now. She didn't blame him for this anymore, as she had for the rest of that year. Things had changed over the summer, she'd changed when she finally realized her relationship with him was irreparable like this day had proven.

Lily blinked once, before telling Snivellus to wash out his mouth.

James roared at Snape to apologize, but Lily shouted just as loudly she didn't want to make him apologize, he was just as bad!

James looked truly offended, saying he'd never call her such a thing.

Lily snarled that didn't excuse his strutting around corridors, always cursing people who annoyed him. She made him sick!

Then she stormed off.

James tried calling after her, but when she didn't respond, he demanded of Sirius still next to him what was with her, his tone trying to say the answer was of no real importance, and failing.

James didn't bother to deny this, even as Sirius politely told him, "you failed at that every time by the way."

Sirius offered that reading between the lines, he'd guess she found him conceited.

"Exactly how big were those lines?" Remus asked of him.

Sirius made his eyes go big with confusion, and so Remus just rolled his own.

James looked more furious than ever as he turned back to Snivelly, asking of the watchers who wanted to see him take off his pants?

Harry never found out if James had.

"Nah," James huffed, "Hagrid showed up then. Though I might have if he really hadn't apologized, I was still wanting one even without her around," he said in no uncertain terms.

Far from looking reassured, Harry's expression only darkened, much to all of the boys confusion, and Lily was still keeping eyes only for her infant and wasn't watching any of them.

A hand closed around his arm like a vice, and glancing up, Harry saw the adult Snape.

"Uroh," Sirius hummed. This must be why Harry was looking so off, no one would be happy being caught doing this.

Harry was dragged back, feeling as if he did a flip before finding himself in the dungeons again, Snape still holding fast to his arm. It was scary, his lips were shaking, his face was white, his teeth were bared.

Lily did look up sharply at that, anger now the most dominant thing rather than the hurt of her youth. Yes Harry was in the wrong, but if he hurt her boy, Snape was going to wish she'd killed him that day instead of simply dropping him from her life.

Snape hissed what an amusing man his father had been, shaking Harry so hard his glasses slipped from his nose, before he was released, and shoved so hard he hit the stone floor.

James and Sirius snarled in outrage, all eyes flashing furiously for Harry being treated like this. All of them were trying to reach for their wand now, growing more worried by the second Snape was fixing to turn on Harry with worse than the curse that had left a scar on James that day.

Harry though could hardly react, this moment of seeing Snape trying to remind him of something he just couldn't concentrate on right now, still far too wrapped in an all to living realization.

The shout of get out, and never to come back echoed behind him as Harry got to his feet and ran, a glass of cockroaches exploding above his head on the way out. He didn't stop running until he was three floors ahead, slumping down into an empty plinth as he rubbed at his bruised arm.

All four of them made a noise of outrage Snape had really hurt him. He'd deserved a detention certainly, they wouldn't have even argued if Snape had done a number of things like emptying house points or weeks of detentions, but actually harming him was far past crossing the line. The oddest part was, Harry wasn't even rubbing at his arm now, for all the world his face showed he couldn't care less, and it was depressing the lot of them to see him go so silent with no idea why.

Harry didn't know where to go. He didn't want to go back to the tower and tell his friends, and it wasn't because Snape had thrown a jar at him.

"I thought you or him exploded that by accident, he actually threw that at you!" Sirius barked in outrage.

Harry had no reaction, he wouldn't look at any of them.

It was that he knew how it felt to be humiliated in the middle of a circle of onlookers, knew exactly how Snape had felt as his father had taunted him,

Remus' brows shot up in surprise as they were finally getting an idea of why Harry hadn't spoken a word during that whole exchange, and that's the part he'd focused on? He finished curiously,

and that judging from what he had just seen, his father had been every bit as arrogant as Snape had always told him.

and hadn't been expecting that.

HPHPHPHP

  *Nicknames offered by Xovercrazy and MelodyGirl239 in that order

**I think I'm allowed some direct quotes from the books, and these are just too magnificent to pass up.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Return (OT4)

Prompt for the 28th was: Costume

He might be showing off a little bit, carrying all the suitcases in at once, but Duck likes the appreciative look Indrid gives him as he does. The Sylph is already settled on the shoved together king beds, sketchbook in hand, eyeing the ranger conspicuously when he bends to set Joe’s bag down first, just as the agent finishes checking something off his to-do list

“Oh, thank you, um, honey.” The last word still comes out quiet. Really, the only time Joe says it loudly is when Duck has him pinned to one surface or another. 

He smiles to show he heard him, but if he’s being honest his attention has been mainly on Indrid this whole day, watching for signs of discomfort or unhappiness. The Sylph has insisted over and over again that he wanted to come on this trip, that he would be alright, and that they could all stop fussing about this please and thank you. 

But that doesn’t change the fact they’re in Point Pleasant.

They’re here for the Mothman Festival, Duck making good on his promise to Joe to go with him. He’s excited, and he likes seeing the agent happy. Indrid seems happy too, and Duck is trying to walk the line between letting him be and making sure he’s as alright as he claims to be. In spite of his experiences in Kepler, Indrid still sometimes takes unhappiness as inevitable, even when it’s his own. 

“Okay” Barclay tucks his phone into his back pocket, “my vote is for that cafe a few blocks over; if we go early, we can beat the dinner rush. Plus, even though it wasn’t a huge trip, being on the road tires me out, so I wanna crash soon as I can.”

“That is your only reason for wanting to get into bed sooner?” Indrid sends a suggestive smirk his way, making the bearded man blush. 

“Maybe. Depends on what everyone else is up for.”

The answer turns out to be a decent dinner followed by collapsing into bed in rapid succession. It doesn’t escape Ducks’ notice that Indrid stays in his human form and opts to nestle down between the ranger and the agent, holding Barclay’s hand where it’s draped over Joe’s waist. 

He wakes up once during the night, the dim light of the alarm clock enough to sting his eyes. In his arms, Indrid takes several deep breaths, rolls to burrow his face into Duck’s chest. He waits to see if Indrid will say anything, but the next sound he hears is a gentle chirp-snore. So he kisses his forehead, and goes back to dreaming.

-----------------

“Having been to the TNT plant plenty of times, I do not feel the need to go on the hayride there.”

“Yeah, think we can skip that.” Duck sips his coffee as they wander through the first few blocks of the festival. Joe’s early rising has them beating much of the crowd, though runners from the 5K jog by now and then. 

“Why were you there, anyway? It doesn’t seem suitable for you.” Stern turns them towards the museum.

“The Winnebago’s previous incarnation wasn’t all that far away. Frightened humans are not known  for their powers of observation.”

“True.” Joe and Barclay say as one. 

They split up soon after, Joe and Duck into the museum while Barclay and Indrid scope out the food booths (“Being in a space with a great deal of inaccurate information about me is not my favorite). Wandering the exhibits, the agent’s fingers slip between his own, and Duck smiles when he sneaks a peek at him. He’s so relaxed, his dark hair out of it’s usual slicked-back state since he wanted to get out of the door quickly, looks utterly at home in his mothman patterned button up shirt, animatedly talking about the displays. Indrid is usually the one of them most likely to dump information out in one big flow, but Joe has his moments. 

The building is warm enough that Duck unbuttons his overshirt, revealing the t-shirt beneath. Joe turns to tell him something, and stops, eyebrows zipping up his forehead. 

“A little on the nose, isn’t it?”

Duck grins, looking down at the bright red letters reading “mothman is my boyfriend.”

“Juno bought it for me once she found out. Usually just wear it when I wanna make Indrid laugh. Plus, seen three people with similar ones, so it ain’t like anyone is gonna take it as confession.”

Joe nods, gracefully weaving through a small clump of visitors on their way to the gift shop. When Duck falls in next to him, the agent murmurs, “you’re worried about him too.”

“Kinda hard not to be.”

“I know. I’m trying to take him at his word but it’s, well, it’s difficult. It wouldn’t be the first time my interests turned people off. I’d hate for him to get overwhelmed by all this and try to hide it for my sake.”

“He ain’t bad at hidin things, but he’s also real fuckin blunt.” He puts his arm around Joe’s shoulder, “it’ll be okay, city mouse.”

After spending slightly more money than necessary (look, he promised lots of people souvenirs and also he needed to buy a few things for Joe for the holidays), they make their way back into the festival. On a bench near an outer edge, Barclay and Indrid are sitting thigh to thigh, Barclay feeding Indrid funnel cake. He says something and Indrid laughs.

“You know, even though it was fleeting, I’m glad they found each other all those years ago. One of the things I love most about Barclay is how he takes care of people, and I think Indrid needed that.”

“Not gonna lie, never expected the biggest softy in Kepler to also be Bigfoot.”

“You didn’t expect it? Think about how I feel.”

He laughs, “yeah, you got me there.”

They move through the festival as a quartet after that, Barclay delighted with his “Mothman Blend” coffee and Indrid with the sweater bearing his likeness and the words “live, laugh, lurk.” As noon approaches, more and more mothman appear, all in varying degrees of impressive or lackluster cosplays and costumes. Stern keeps muttering about scale, Indrid about wing placement, and Duck can’t help but think none of them get the color right. 

“I have an, ah, an idea.” Indrid says, turning a mug reading “I Heart Mothman” over in his hands, “So many people are excited to meet those who look like me. I want to see what happens if they see the real thing.”

“Uh, that seems real-”

“Risky yes, but I’ve checked the futures and there is not one where I am identified as what I actually am.”

Duck and Barclay trade a skeptical look, but Joe has an uncharacteristically scheming glint in his eye. 

“I know exactly how we can insure that. Duck, Barclay, wait here please. Indrid, come with me, we need to run back to the hotel.” He grabs the Sylphs hand. 

“What are you--oh, oh yes, that is rather clever” is the last Duck hears before losing them in the crowd. 

“....you wanna help me pick out a present for Jake?” Barclay still looks worried, so Duck nods and they set off towards a t-shirt booth.

Barclay is mid-anecdote about his run in with a cougar out in California when every visitor in sight starts whispering and taking pictures.

The cooks mutters “If this goes wrong, Mama’s going to lock all four of us in the safehouse for the rest of our lives.”

In his Sylph form, Indrid towers above the crowd. His arms are resolutely set by his sides and head held high, Duck gets a rare glimpse of how his boyfriend must have looked in the halls of Sylvain. All the same, his eyes are drawn to the  antenna twitching with nerves as the onlookers get closer.

“If you could just step back from the specimen a bit, thank you.” Joe steps directly in front of Indrid, and Barclay lets out a soft, appreciative growl to Duck’s right. The agent is in a full suit, complete with sunglasses, a picture of handsome, aloof calm. 

People in the crowd laugh,take more pictures as Indrid’s “handler” guides him over to Duck and Barclay.

“Do you just pack a suit no matter what, babe?”

“No. I, um, I know how much certain people like it when I wear one. I planned to bring it out this evening but this seemed like the better use.”

“It’s working splendidly. So far. Just keep people away from my wings; I only like it when you three touch them.”

“Roger that. Lunch?”

“Sounds good to me. Lead the way, mister man-in-black.” Duck steps aside so Joe can go first, clearing a path for them, Indrid staying close to the agent’s back. They opt for a waffle stand selling, among other things, waffle sandwiches and something called the “Mothman Delight” that consists of strawberry jam, chocolate sauce, and whipped cream. Indrid orders one, only to ask Barclay to feed it to him to keep up the ruse of this being a costume. The cook doesn’t object in the slightest, though at one point he whispers something in high sylph that makes Indrid poof up with a chirp. 

The longer they wander the festival, the more relaxed Indrid becomes, fielding questions about costume construction and wing mechanics with the ease of someone who spent a century constructing alibis for his very existence. Lots of people take pictures with him, Joe shepherding them into poses that won’t make the Sylph uncomfortable. Several inquire as to why he didn’t enter the cosplay contest. 

“It wouldn’t have been fair.” 

It’s when they’re debating when and how to get dinner that a family approaches. Sandwiched between her parents, a girl of about seven stares up at Indrid with wide eyes, clutching her stuffed mothman to her chest. 

“Can, um, can” she looks back to her parents for help.

“She wants to know if she can hug you.” The woman says, as a child wanting to hug a massive monster is utterly unremarkable. 

Joe glances at Indrid, who nods, “Yes, if she would like to.”

The girl hands her small mothman to her dad, takes four steps forward, and throws her arms around the much larger one. Indrid does his best to hug her back, settling for putting his hands on her shoulders. 

“She’s just obsessed with cryptids.”

“You’re my favorite” she smiles up at Indrid.

“Mine too.” Duck chimes in, resting his hand on the smell of Indrid’s back. 

“We’re out here because it’s all she wants for her birthday.”

Joe makes a high-pitched noise at the same time Barclay lets out an “awww.”

Indrid smiles, pats the child’s head, “In that case, would you like to take a picture with me?”

“Yes!”

“May I pick you up?”

She nods hard enough to send her alien-patterned headband down her forehead. Indrid picks her up, holding her while she beams at her mom’s camera. 

“Are you liking the festival?” He asks as they pose.

“Uh huh. ‘Cept for the parts where people say mothman does bad things. He doesn’t, he stops them, everyone knows that.” 

“She’s gotten in at least three arguments with classmates over that.” Her father adds, holding out his arms as Indrid passes the girl back to him. 

“I, ah, I am glad to know the mothman has such determined defenders. Happy birthday, my dear.”

As they turn, the little girl calls out, “bye mothman! I love you!”

Indrid looks back, red eyes a bit watery, and waves as Duck murmurs, “Me too.”

----------------------------------------

Stern doesn’t regret how much he ate at dinner. He;s just glad he packed those antacids. 

When he sits up, two bodies are missing from the bed, and it’s only the sight of a note on the nightstand that keeps him from bolting out of bed to look for them. 

Indrid and I are out for a late-night walk. Back soon.

-Duck.

“Everything okay?” Barclay rolls over, brown eyes reflective in the dark. 

“Yes” he pops the antacid into his mouth, “they just stepped out.”

“O-” the sylph yawns “kay.” Blinking sleepily, he smiles, “anyone ever tell you you’re the hottest thing on two legs?”

“You did, this morning.”

“Good, gotta meet my quota.” He opens his arms and Stern snuggles in net to him, “sleep tight, special agent.”

-------------------------

Duck didn’t see Indrid leave, but he’s got a hunch as to where he went. Still, he almost misses him, spots the silver hair in the moonlight right before a hedge obscures it. 

Indrid sits in the middle of the embankment, the Ohio reflecting the night sky in motion. To a passerby, he looks to be studying the opposite shore. Duck knows that his gaze is closer than that, sweeping over air that wasn’t always empty. 

“Huh, there was only one future where you followed me.”

“You want me to go back?”

“No.” 

Duck picks his way down to Indrid’s side, finding a flat stone to sit on. 

“It’s funny, the ways stories change. What they say about me grows further and further from what I say about myself.”

“‘Drid, you know this wasn’t your fault. No more than the Cottonwood or anythin else was.”

“That is the story I try to tell in my mind. That there are things that cannot be stopped or altered, that must only be endured. That was why I gave up for years. Then you and the others showed me that even the worst, seemingly inevitable futures can be changed. And that is good, so very good, but all the same it....it sometimes serves as proof of what I fear; that I could not stop these” he gestures to river, “disasters not because they were unstoppable, but because I was incapable.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Sometimes. Just as you sometimes worry you could have done much more good in the world had you neglected your powers. I wonder how much of my failure was out of my hands.”

“Drid” Duck cups his cheek, turning his head and gingerly tilting his glasses up his forehead, “You’re forgettin somethin; the cottonwood, the funicular, the end of the goddamn world, none of that was stopped by one person. It took a whole bunch of us, every damn time. You were alone. There’s only so much one fella can do on his own.”

Indrid closes his eyes, inhales and looks out over the river one last time. Then all his attention is on Duck. 

“You’re right. I may not always believe that, but I know it’s true.”

“You know what else?”

The smile suggests he does. Indrid leans the few inches in to kiss him, the action dreamlike in its softness. Duck catches a hint of two different scents; a pine tr sop and a cologne. The Sylph is sheltered from the chill by a sweatshirt that started off as Barclays, but is routinely claimed by his boyfriends. 

“You ain’t alone anymore.”

For the first time in decades, the mothman smiles while within sight of the rebuilt silver bridge. 

“You’re right, my love. I’m not.”

[kayrogers]

accidental cinderella ][ t. holland

royalty au

Paring(s): prince!tom holland x reader ; platonic!harrison osterfield x reader

Inspo: cinderella cause a bitch LOVES fairy tale aus

Word Count: 2900+

Warning(s): cursing, lil bit of a cheese-fest, and haz being an absolute bean

Part: prologue | part 1 | part ??

A/N: first of all.. wow. thank you so much to everyone that read first part and actually wanted more, y’all are some saints. Second, I hope y’all are coping well in quarantine, stay healthy loves! also gifs above DO NOT belong to me, I found them on google.

Harrison indeed did manage to get your number and sent you the details for the Gala the next day. To say that it was scary how fast he got a hold of you was an understatement. What had you gotten yourself into?!

‘You weren’t being serious about the Forever 21 dress... were you?’ He texted back and you felt your face grow red.

You were poor. There was no question about it, even if your so-called family upstairs lived lavishly. But maybe this could get you out of it! No fancy dress? No gala. Maybe he had finally come to his senses and realized how insane it was that he even spoke to you. Let alone invited you to such an event.

‘Uh yeah. Is that going to be a problem?’ You sent back, biting your lip in anticipation.

‘Not at all. Meet me at this address tonight at 9 PM. Wear something comfy. ;)’ What?!

Okay, you weren’t sure what that meant and it made your stomach flip at the prospect.

‘Is this another thing that’d be offensive to say no to?’ There was the sound of a crash coming from the floor above you and you could hear your step-mother’s familiar screech.

‘Yes. See you there!’ You rolled your eyes, turning your phone off and slipping out of bed.

“[Y/n]! Get upstairs!” She yelled down the stairs to your flat and you groaned, slipping on a pair of slippers and heading up.

The sight upstairs was nothing short of a disaster. Pink powder covered the tiled kitchen floor and the small white Pomeranian your step-mother named ‘Angel’. It didn’t take long to hang around that dog to realize the name was an oxymoron.

“Clean this up immediately! I can’t believe I’ve spilled my Marc Jacobs blush... and I have the gala this weekend. You must get more today.” Your step-mother, Sheryl, harped the second you entered the room.

“And give the dog a wash, I need my baby clean.” You nodded, more tripping up on this gala she mentioned.

Grabbing a vacuum from the closet, you were quick to get to work picking up what you could of the loose powder.

“Gala this weekend?” You carefully questioned as you hung up the vacuum and grabbed a swiffer mop.

“The Holland’s. With your father’s connections I was able to get invitation for myself and the girls. The king is looking for all of the eligible ladies in the kingdom for his son... obviously within a more respectable tax bracket as only certain families are being invited.” She snipped and you felt a familiar grieving anger fill your chest.

Your father’s connections. You always knew Sheryl had it out for his money from the second he met her, but he loved her and you wanted him to be happy after your mother’s passing. But now? The blatant materialism and audacity. To not even consider bringing you, but quick to use your father’s memory when it was of use. It disgusted you to no end.

After mopping what you could, you grabbed the dog who immediately started yipping at you. Making the decision to bite your tongue, you left the room before you could say something you’d regret.

“Make sure you scrub this grout when you’re done!” You inwardly groaned at her screech.

The rest of your day went frustratingly similar to that interaction. You went through an exceedingly long to do list that you were forced to do daily, somehow these women managed to mess up every little micromanaged task you were given. You wouldn’t doubt your step sisters doing it on purpose, torturing you being one of their favorite pastimes.

After chores was work, this environment not much of a change. As cute as the café was, that Pinterest-wholesome exterior was a facade when considering the attitudes of other customers and co-workers alike. You’d swear off any coffee besides black if you didn’t have such a sweet tooth.

You were cleaning after your shift around 8, when you got another text from Harrison.

Harrison: ‘We still on for tonight?’

[Y/n]: ‘Yeah. Just locking up the café. 9 right?’

Harrison: ‘Most certainly! Make me a coffee on your way out?’ [$50 attached to message]

[Y/n]: ‘50?! I would have done it for free!’

Harrison: ‘I know ;)’

That was the first good thing to happen to you all day. And you didn’t even want to accept it. Maybe having a royal butt-buddy wouldn’t be so bad if he kept this up.

Cleaning was much less of a chore after that and you felt yourself actually grin when you stepped out into the cold night air. You put the address Harrison sent you into Uber and found yourself equal parts anxious and excited. The drive was short, but as you turned onto the block dread filled your heart. Fairy Ave. It was a place that not even your step-mother could visit more than once a year. Every store glistened brightly and held price tags you could never imagine. You could guess a singular dress would cost your tuition. In front of one boutique stood a familiar face in a suit even more dashing. And you sat in the backseat of an Uber with your work clothes still on. 

“A suit?” You questioned when you got out.

“I’ve just left work as well. Not easy babysitting a prince.” He jokes and you hand him his coffee.

“You sure he’d like you saying that?” Harrison scoffed at your remark and held open the door to a place called ‘Bibbity Boutique’.

“I’m sure I don’t give a damn.” He was cheeky, but you were too busy gawking at the insane dresses to notice.  From floor to ceiling there were pristine cocktail dresses to sparkling ball gowns. You did not even want to guess how much any piece called for.

“You’re not seriou-“

“I am. Can I get some assistance for this lovely lady here? She’s a friend of the crown.” Harrison boldly held out a silver and red brandished credit card to the first store attendant he saw.

She eyed you suspiciously, but still pulled out a tape measure. However you were too busy stumbling over his phrasing, ‘friend of the crown’ was never something you’d imagine hearing in your life. You were led through the store while Harrison and the worker were actually picking out dresses. Part of you was scared to touch one for fear of somehow breaking it and putting yourself into indefinite debt. But then you saw it.

The deep pine green caught your eye as if drawn there by a magnet. The dress in all honesty was simple, smooth satin flowing down the mannequin like water. The back was mostly open except for spaghetti straps tying the bottom together. It was perfect.

“Stop.” Your voice was abrupt, Harrison and the attendant give you a strange look with equal amounts of insane dresses filling their arms.

“The green one. That’s it.”

“Are you sure? These are the gowns being purchased for the gala.” The attendant insisted on the dresses in her arms, each one extravagant and sparkling.

“Let’s see it on then.” Harrison concluded with a smirk, and the attendant rolled her eyes but moved to help you get that dress down.

You audibly gasped when seeing yourself in the dress. The deep forest color reflected amazingly off of the lights of the dressing room as you stood on a raised platform in front of its many mirrors. It was almost iridescent as the satin slightly changed with every swish and twirl of the fabric. It hung off your figure perfectly, tightening at every point it was meant to.

“Harrison!” You called excitedly, nearly falling in the tester heels you were given when putting the garment on.

He walked in and a smile took up his face when taking in your form.

“Don’t you clean up nice. We’ll take it.” He stated and you watched as the attendant quickly began writing down an order.

“I feel like I’m in Pretty Woman. Except I’m not having sex with anyone. Oh god, I don’t have to have sex with you for this right?” You whispered to him jokingly and his cheeks burned bright.

“Ouch. But no, like I said, you are a friend of the crown now. Or a friend of mine at the very least, you make me laugh [Y/n]. And since this whole gala was strapped together, Tom hasn’t been doing much of that.” Harrison looked down and began typing on his phone while saying that.

“So you and Tom are mates then?” He looked up from the device with a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t be Royal Advisor if I wasn’t.” He winked and went back to typing.

“Pretty sure you’re not looking for a laugh when taking advice on the kingdom, but if the shoe fits-“

“-Oh shoe! Wait one moment!” Harrison interrupted and dashed out of the dressing room.

He came back with his hands behind his back, a large grin occupying the bottom half of his face. “You shall be wearing these to the gala,” He pulled a box out from behind his eyes and you narrowed your eyes.

It was opened to reveal the most gorgeous pair of heels you had ever seen in your life. The seemed to be made of glass, crystalline and sparkling under the dressing rooms lights. You were nearly scared to blink, for fear that they’d disappear when you opened your eyes again.

“Come on then, let’s try em’ on.” He encouraged and you quickly stepped out of the tester heels.

Harrison kneeled in front of you, slipping the shoes on carefully while you watched in one of the many mirrors. They fit like a glove. And that’s when the world seemed to hit you like a tidal wave, eyes filling with tears too quickly for you to process.

“Harrison I can’t- the dress- the shoes- it’s all to much.” You choked out with a gasp, tears spilling down your face.

His head whipped up, the man rising to meet your blurred gaze.

Seeing yourself in that dress like that killed you in a way you never knew something could. It was just too nice. No one had done anything like this for you since your father was alive, a simple act of kindness. You were just overwhelmed by your emotions, feeling undeserving of any of this.

“Have I done something wrong?” His eyebrows were pulled together in concern.

“No. The opposite. I- I don't deserve this, Harrison.” You managed to get out through your sobs and he laughed, pulling you into his arms.

“Don’t think I’ve ever made a girl cry over a shopping trip. [Y/n] just accept this as a gift, please. Besides I was not letting you come near that gala in anything but the finest I could offer you. The royal family would have my head.” He comforted you, rubbing your back til your tears dried.

When he pulled away, your face was still red, cheeks and nose tinted cherry from your outburst. You felt embarrassed, sheepishly avoiding his gaze and looking at yourself in the mirror. And even though you looked like a wreck, you could never be more beautiful when wearing that get-up. You even ran your fingers through your hair, shaking it out and actually imagining yourself at this gala.

“Excuse me- we’ll be taking the dress and the slippers!” Harrison yells out from the dressing room. “Now get out of that thing so I can buy it and get you home.”

He exits the dressing room with a wink and you release a breath you didn’t realize was being held in. You managed to slip out of the garment easily, the material sliding down your skin like water. The fact that it now belonged to you was jarring, and you held onto it tightly. 

Putting your work clothes back on was sobering, and you managed to finally accept your reality by the time you stepped outside the shop with Harrison, two bags occupying your hands.

“Shall I arrange for a hair and makeup appointment before the gala?” He asks and you fervently shake your head.

“No! No more spending your money on me, please, I don't know if I can take it.” You plead and his eyes roll with a grin occupying his face.

“Alright… no more money.” Harrison chuckles and the rest of the drive goes smoothly, the two of you getting on as if you’d known each other for years.

The boy was truly a breath of fresh air to you, yourself used to men like him being arrogant pricks who would barely pass you anything more than a predatory glance. But he was kind and treated you with respect, which was really all you could ask for in a friend. Not like you had many of those anyways. Work and school taking up all of your time to a point where any free time you had was spent between you and Netflix.

When you were dropped off at the apartment, you quietly snuck inside and into your flat. There was a small anxiety which creeped through you when thinking of your step-mother or step-sisters finding the dress. If Sheryl saw it, she would ask questions and somehow use you to weasel her way into whatever plot a sociopathic widow could make out of your new connection to the Royal Advisor. 

You made sure your door was locked before moving to your bed and lifting up a panel in the floor to reveal a space filled with your most important items. Most of them were trinkets and random pieces of jewelry, besides that your father’s old journal and a shoebox of cash you had managed to hide from your step-mother and keep for yourself from work. You slipped the shoebox and dress box carefully into the spot before placing the panel back on top of the hole. 

-

Harrison had a giddy smile on his face as he approached Tom’s room, strolling in with a champagne bottle and two glasses. Though this jovial attitude is soon disrupted when seeing the Prince’s face. 

Tom was already nursing a glass of wine, solemnly staring out his window with his phone left open on his coffee table.

“She’s got a new phone.” He grimly states and that’s all Harrison has to hear.

“Annabelle?! Why won’t you report this? It’s harassment. Prince harassment. And that’s just treason, let’s arrest her.” He rapidly gets out, rolling his eyes at the dramatics of the situation.

Of course Annabelle Valentina Roselyn Kensington had to swing back into Tom’s life right when Harrison was helping him move on and get his shit together. And who was this girl? Prince Holland’s insanely jealous and conniving ex-girlfriend who Harrison knew would never let her claws unlatch from the Royal Family. 

“You know I can’t do that.” Tom said and finally looked away from the window.

The Prince could never report the girl, he knew of his status and how quickly most of the kingdom would attack her the second word got out. No matter how she tortured him during their two year long relationship, he still cared enough to not want her hurt. 

“What’s the bubbly for?” He asks and Harrison perks up.

“This is a celebration, my friend! Your genius advisor has concocted the perfect plot to get your father off your back and keep you from any unwanted advances at the gala… including Annabelle I presume.” Tom’s face twists in confusion.

“What are you on abo-”

“I’ve got you a girl-”

“Harrison.”

“Not another setup. Not even romantic. Her name is [Y/n]. She’s not phased by status or money, in fact she almost didn’t let me buy her a dress for the event. So here’s my plan, you find her at the gala - trust me, you’ll be able to pick her out - and you give her a proposition. Ask her to spend the night with you. You have a girl on your arm who you’re not required to further pursue, because once your father realizes she’s lowborn he’ll make sure that relationship never happens, and she’s quite funny actually so she won’t be a waste of your night.” Harrison gets out in one breath, face red and chest puffed as he unleashes his masterplan.

At least the part of it which Tom would have to know.

“So you’ve gotten me a fake date, that doesn’t even know she’s my fake date? And she’ll go along with it? Can I at least see a picture before you pawn me and this girl together? And that’s IF I let you. Big IF.” Harrison’s smile could be considered borderline psychotic, the man knowing that his best friend had already agreed and just didn’t want to let it on yet.

“Right, yeah. She’s actually quite pretty.” He pulled out his phone and brought up his camera roll to a picture he snuck of you in the dress.

You had a near invisible smile on your face, not noticing his phone in the reflection and just running a hand through your hair to get a different look in the mirror. Tom had to blink a few times, momentarily speechless. He tried not to let it show to Harrison, but there was clearly something about your image that struck him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“How’d you find this girl?” He scoffs, a twinge if heat touching his cheeks when Tom realizes that there’s a slight feeling of butterflies in his stomach.

The prince did not have that feeling for a long time, and he wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about that.

“Well- funny story actually. It all started when I knocked her over and spilled latte everywhere…”

----------------------------------------------------------

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[secretlynestaarcheron]

Chapter One + Two

The Selection  - ACOTAR 

Tagged: @justgiu12

words: 6,150

let me know if you want to be tagged :) Enjoy!

Chapter One: Nesta 

Nesta huffs as she pushes her shoulder into the door, faltering slightly as the door flies open, she stumbles as she steps into the door. Adding the door jamming to never ending lists of to dos. She dusts off the snow on her coat, grateful for the fire in the fireplace that was already warming her numb hands. 

She looks around the small shack of home, Elain was probably out in the back deciding where to plant her garden for the upcoming spring and Feyre out in the woods like normal. She could hear her father's snores through his closed door. Her sisters were too young to remember but they used to live in a two story house, when they were fours. Her father was a well known business man who fell in love with a five, they were the perfect family, until their mother died. 

She didn’t realize what was happening to her father until she came back from school and he was packing up their belongings. They sold the most of their furniture and clothes, only taking what they could fit in this small house. They were branded sevens and then that was that. 

Nesta started working as much as she could to provide for her sisters. Only to come home to help them with their school, she wanted better for her sisters. She wanted them to climb the caste system to have a better life than she did with her two waitressing jobs and seamstress job. 

“How was work?” Elain’s soft voice came from the kitchen, where she shook off her cloak and set a handful of herbs on the kitchen table. Nesta smiled at the thought, Elain could nurture a rose bush in a blizzard and it would thrive. “I warmed up some soup for you, it should be still hot.” 

Nesta glanced over to the stove, where a pot stood ready for her, but she turned back to Elain, setting her small clutch bag with her paycheck of the day on the kitchen table. “I am not hungry, I ate at the restaurant,” Nesta replies. 

Elain turns towards her older sister, narrowing her usual soft eyes, but Feyre bursts through the door a minute later. “Turn on the TV!” Feyre says, pulling off her boots, and rushing towards the television that sat on a table that has books under one leg to keep it even. 

“What's the rush? Is something happening?” Elain asks cautiously, following Feyre into the living room and sitting down on the floor next to her. Nesta follows leaning against the wall as the static changes into an image of the royal family. 

“A girl in town was talking about it, apparently her mom cleans a four house and learned about-,” Feyre stops as the king begins to speak. Nesta chuckles at her sister, Feyre was always getting herself into mischief. 

Nesta watched the King of Prythian and his son, Prince Rhysand, stand above a large group of threes and fours, maybe some well known fives. “I have come here to announce some happy news amongst all the talk of war and poverty,” the King announces, turning to wave his son forward, Nesta doesn’t miss how he glances towards a large man not much older than he. The prince didn’t like whatever the king was going to say next Nesta concluded. 

“My son will take part in something every generation before him has taken part of, The Selection,” The King booms loudly, as the crowd below cheers, he smiles proudly before gesturing to the crowd. “I met my own wife, a seamstress from seven, and it is my greatest pleasure to announce we will be accepting girls from every caste.” 

More screams came through the screen probably from every girl that was in the crowd that had longed to be the one Prince Rhysand fell for. Nesta can’t help but snort, causing Elain to turn towards her. She had a knowing look in her eye. 

“The only restriction we have is that you must be eighteen by June 1st,” The king adds. 

Feyre huffs, she wouldn’t be eighteen until that winter. Nesta knew she wasn’t that disappointed, the only real reason she would want to go to the castle is because of the food, horses, and forest surrounding it. “You must sign up! We can go tomorrow, make a day out of it!” Feyre says, turning to face her sisters. 

“I couldn’t be away that long,” Elain replies, but they both know she really means she couldn’t be away from her garden that long or from her father, she was the only one that would still take care of him. Feyre turns expectantly at Nesta, “What's your excuse?” 

Nesta smirks, “Someone has to work around here, and cook, and clean, oh and school you,” she retorts, pushing herself off the wall, “Speaking of school, we should get some sleep, it's late.” 

Nesta curled up on the sofa with a book as Elain and Feyre made their way into the room they all shared. This was their nightly routine, they would go to bed and Nesta would stay awake reading until her eyes grew heavy with sleep and she would fall asleep out here near the fire. 

~*~

Her worn shoes squeaked with every crunch of the snow, her wool socks still damp from the long walk to the tavern. This was her second least favorite job, her least was being a seamstress. She couldn’t count how many times she had prick her finger. 

“Did you hear the good news?” Nesta turned to see the baker's daughter dumping out the stale bread from the day before that didn’t sell. Nesta smiles in greeting, she was a year younger than Nesta and was a kind soul. Nesta had befriended her last spring and would stay and mindlessly chat with her before work but right now after being on her feet all day and dealing with old men who had far too much to drink she couldn’t deal with it. “The prince is getting married.” 

Nesta nods, shoving her hands into her pockets to save some warmth. “I’ll be rooting for you, Liz,” she replies, her cheeks burning from the wind. “If anyone in this town deserves a prince, it's you!” 

“You’re too kind, Nes,” she says, walking over to hand her a few loaves of bread. Nesta stared at them hesitant before finally reaching out to grab them. She dips her head in thanks, Nesta would have never taken it if it was for her but it was for her sisters. “Have a good night, say hello to Elain and Feyre for me!” 

Nesta nods, slipping the bread into her bag and turning on her heel to start the cold long walk back to her cabin. Someone grips her bicep pulling her back and slamming her against the cold stone of the tavern. She's about to yell out when she recognizes the familiar smirk of none other than Tomas Mandray. 

He was a grade above her when she was four, but didn’t take any notice of her until he met her in the tavern a few weeks ago. He had come every night for the next two weeks to talk to her, it made her feel special. “I heard you talking about the prince,” Tomas whispers in her ear. 

She chuckles when she smells the alcohol on his breath, he got jealous and rude when he was intoxicated but from what she knows of him he was harmless. “Getting jealous? You haven’t claimed me yet, Mandray,” she replies, knowing that he never would, even if she was level with his status. 

He chuckles, “Like you would be picked,” he retorts, “The king only said that to throw a bone to a limp dog. Everyone knows the problems he has with the queen, he would never wish that upon his son. Sevens are more as a lass result mistress.” 

Nesta swallows, turning her cheek away from him and shifting her weight away from him. He glanced down and then back up at her face, chuckling slightly, “You weren’t actually going to enter, Nessie,” he retorts, reaching a hand out to push back a strain of hair behind her ear. 

His cold fingers brushing against her ear making her feel sick. She turns quickly, catching off guard enough to slip away. “Why would I try to marry a prince when I have bar rats following me for my attention?” She calls back to him with a wave of her hand, glad that he wasn’t following her. 

She was furious the way home, the burning of her cheeks not just because of the cold winds. She was angry at Tomas for his insecurities, he was mad because no girl would look his way if they had a chance at being a queen. She was mad that he felt the need to take it out on her because she would never amount to anything. 

The house was quiet as she stepped in, she laid her cloak and socks by the fire to hopefully be dry by tomorrow. She sat back on the sofa gripping her book as she thought about what it would actually take to make it to The Selection. 

~*~

“Where did you go so early?” Elain asks, raising an eyebrow, as Nesta slams the door shut behind her. Nesta turns quickly, not noticing Elain in the rocking chair in the corner, she peers down at Elain, “It’s not nice to scare people, Elain.” 

Elain chuckles, “stop changing the subject, I know you don’t work Thursdays aside from some sewing work.” 

Elain had her there, Nesta did not have a reason to leave but she did, she woke up before the crack of dawn to have her picture taken and sent to the king to decide if she was pretty enough to be a Queen. She regretted going but it's not like anyone would know. 

“I went into town to see if they had any fruits to make a pie,” Nesta replies smoothly, taking off her cloak and hanging it by the fire. “Unfortunately, they were either too bruised or too overpriced.” 

Feyre walks through the door biting into an apple, “Last day to sign up, are you sure neither of you want to marry a prince?” she asks. 

“I think I’ll pass,” Nesta replies, walking into the kitchen, hoping to never bring up her trip downtown ever again. 

And she wouldn’t, well not until the next night. 

She sat in the corner of the sofa with a book in her hand as Feyre and Elain guessed how many girls from each caste would be accepted into The Selection. “I don’t think there will be any below six, only a few from five, and the rest from four, three, and two,” Feyre comments, as the music blared from the speaker, the crowd waiting for the king and prince to come out and announce the girls. 

“I think there will be one from each, they have to show equality through the castes,” Elain replies softly, there was more to her thought though. “There's talk of riots, they have to do this more than ever.” 

Nesta glances up from her book at her sister, Elain knew more than she let on, everyone shared their secrets with Elain. Wherever she went people would spill their life stories to her. She didn’t get to say anything, as the music stopped and the clapping began as the king and prince made their way to the center of the stage. 

Nesta begins to read again, only catching a few names here and there. They seemed fancy and posh, she would look up briefly seeing their smiling faces appear on screen. “Only three girls left,” Elain comments. 

Nesta closes her book, the next girl appears on screen; she is a five with copper hair and bright green eyes. The next girl is a light blonde girl with pale blue eyes, she looks frail, the number below her name concludes what everyone was thinking. She was from six, the malnourished of her concluding that she was not a well known six. There's a low murmur through the crowd, she must have been the lowest caste announced. There's a pause before the last picture appears, “Nesta Archeron, caste seven,” the king voices boom. Nesta was not sure if it was the crowd that had gone completely silent or if it was her own world stilling around her. 

The silence does not last long, the King begins his final speech while Elain and Feyre turn quickly to face Nesta. “Did I just-,” Elain stutters, “Did you really? Why didn’t you tell us? Nesta you got accepted. You are going to the palace!”

Feyre turns around quickly to stare at her, “You entered!” she cheers, quickly being shushed by Elain, it wouldn’t be good to wake father now. “Are you going? Please tell me you are going.” 

Nesta shakes her head, “No, probably not,” she replies softly, not wanting to allow herself even the thought of joining. “Who would take care of you guys?” 

“We would get a stipend,” Feyre replies quickly, “Nes, think about the food.” 

“Think about the garden,” Elain retorts. 

So that's what she thought about, she thought about the pretty dresses and the fresh air and the pastries. She thought about the library the palace must have and how many books she could read in the span of her being there. She wouldn’t be there for long, she knew that, but at least she could get away. She could escape the horrors of being a seven, working three jobs, all the drunk men from the tavern. 

So she found herself accepting the offer, packing a small trunk of her best dresses and her favorite books the night before she left, her sisters sitting on the bed watching her. “Take the red dress,” Elain says, nodding in approval, “It’ll look beautiful with your hair, especially if you braid-,” 

Nesta turns towards Elain, “You think I’ll be able to braid? We all know you’re the finest braider,” she replies, folding the dress and setting it on top before shutting the lid satisfactional, “You’ll write, if anything is to happen to you or father, you’ll tell me? Right?” 

“Right,” Feyre retorts, “And on your way home you’ll steal all the fincist pastries?” 

“Of course,” Nesta replies, reaching over to pull her sisters into a hug, “I don’t have to go, you know. It's not too late for me to tell them I changed my mind.” 

“Are you kidding? Of course you are going,” Feyre replies, ending the discussion before it even began. She slept in the bed with her sisters that night, squished and barely any covers, but she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else the night before she left.

The next few days blurred by into weeks, as she adjusted to being in the palace with maids to help her dress and a mattress that felt like a bed of feathers. She didn’t think that she would ever get used to the tight corsets and the integrated lace or the high heels. 

She didn’t even let her mind go to the manners or the people she would have to encounter when this “competition” actually began. It wasn’t meant to be a competition, or at least it wasn’t broadcasted as a competition, but the few times she had met the fellow girls already they treated this as a competition. 

There’s a sharp knock and then two ladies enter the room, “Good morning, Lady Nesta,” the one with pale skin and dark hair says, as she moves towards her wardrobe. “I am Beatrice and this is Hana. We will be your maids throughout your time here.” 

“We are very excited to have you, I come from the caste seven so the possibility of having someone from my own home town be princess would be incredible,” Hana says, as she moves to look through the dresses the castle provided for Nesta. “You’ll look incredible in this red one.” 

Nesta smiles as she slips out of the bed, “I brought that one, it was my mother,” she says, reaching forward to feel the fabric.

Hana and Beatrice look at each other, “Then this is for sure what you are wearing to meet the prince,” Hana says, smiling and reaching forward to squeeze Nesta’s shoulder. “Shall we talk about your hair next?” 

Hana pulls Nesta toward the vanity, sitting her in the chair and beginning to brush through her hair. “I am thinking of a braid? You have such lovely hair-,” Hana begins to discuss what she could do with her hair and all Nesta can think about is how she misses home. 

Hana finishes up the braid and Beatrice helps her dress in the red dress, all Nesta can think about is her sisters at home and how much they would love to be here right now. Or how much she would love to be home with them, it was rare but there were a few occasions that she was invited to a party as a seven, Elain would braid her hair and Feyre would critique her dresses until they found the perfect one. 

There's a soft knock and then a squeaky voice yelled excitedly, “Ladies, hurry hurry! You have five minutes until show time!” 

“Show time?” Nesta asks, looking over at Beatrice and Hana nervously, she didn’t realize it would all be televised. Beatrice smiles at her comfortingly while pushing her out the door, Nesta wants to fight back, wants to go back into her room and never leave again. 

She turns around quickly, unsure of what her next move should be, when she slams into another person. She falters back slightly, looking up at the tall man she ran into, she recognizes him from the night the competition was announced. He was the guard standing next to Prince Rhysand. She opens her mouth to apologize for running into him but his deep voice cuts her off before she can even get a noise out. 

“Down the hall and to the left, I would suggest you watch where you're going, wouldn’t want you running into the prince like that. You’ll lose your chance for the crown,” he says bluntly, stepping around her as if she was a piece of trash in the hallway, and continuing down the hallway. 

She watches him until he rounds the corner, her first thought when she saw him on the television was that he was handsome, but seeing him in person and how he treated her. She shook her shoulders out as she moved down the hallway, you’ll lose your chance for the crown, caught her attention the most. He didn’t say a chance for the prince. She found herself curious as to if he thought they were all in it for the glory of being queen or if he thought her being a seven she would only want the money. 

She turned the corner and was immediately swept in by the crowd of people, pulling her every which way, placing her in line with the other girls. The hustle and bustle making her forget all about the mean mystery guard all together. 

Chapter Two: Cassian 

Cassian wakes up with a holt, his forehead slick with sweat as he pulls the blankets off his body. His breathing catching in his throat as if he was drowning. The nightmares seemed to only be getting worse and worse with the coming anniversary. 

He leaned his elbows on his knees, putting her forehead in his hands, his stomach clenching as he saw the bodies from his dreams, from his memories. He jumps to his feet, moving to the bathroom, he couldn’t bear to be in his own skin. The orders he gave burning into his memory. 

The cold sink burning his skin as he gripped the sides, reaching forward to splash water onto his face. The memories burning the back of his eye lids, unable to be washed away no matter how much water he splashed onto his face. 

He glances up, looking at his reflection, the water dripping down his chin and the bloodshot eyes. He was sick at the sight of himself. Sick of the fact he was holed up in this castle with a prestigious position after everything he did. Everything the king made him do. 

He balls his hand in a fist, the overwhelming memories and the agonist he was feeling flooded through him. He reaches forward, shattering the glass with one punch, the pieces littering the sink. The blood trickled down his hand as there was a sharp knock on his door pulling him from his own thoughts, his own downfall. 

He steps back, looking at the mess around him, reaching forward to grab the towel. He wraps his hand, moving swiftly toward the door swinging it open. A tall blonde pushed herself off the wall across from his door, “You look like hell,” Mor retorts, pushing past him and walking into his room. “Your room is a disaster.” 

Cassian shakes his head, “I am not really in the mood for round two,” he replies drily, gesturing towards the door, “So if you don’t mind, I have things to do.” 

She chuckles, turning towards him, “It's been years, Cassian. You know you’re not what I fancy anymore.” Her eyes narrow as she glances down to the towel wrapped around his hand. “What did you do?” 

“Why do you always assume-,” he begins but she reaches over in one swift motion and whips off the towel. She reaches forward to examine the bloody knuckles. He winces as she dabs the end of the towel against his bloody bruises. “Listen, it's not a big deal, I can-,” 

“You can handle it? How long has this been going on?” Mor asks, just above a whisper, as she looks up at him. They have known each other since they were children, brought up together along with Rhysand, Mor is a close relative of the King. She was sent here to be taught by the same tutors as Rhysand when she was ten. Cassian knew there was something special about Mor from the moment she met her. He was the first person she told when she knew she no longer fit the social norm. He was supportive of her, even pretending to be courting her, allowing her to meet with three by the name of Amara. The rules of Prythian condoning the relationships she seeked. 

Her family found out, sent her away to France, on the premise of being sent to the best school in Europe but Cassian knew the truth of her quick departure. She had come back last summer, uneasy and different, as if she was being suffocated by the world around her. The norms of society drowning her, suppressing her. 

He confided in him how he felt with every mission he was sent on and every success he had in the eyes of the King. How he felt when he was finally brought back, given his title, and the dark room corner of the castle to call his own. It was a prison, a way for the King to keep a close eye on him to have Cassian at a constant beck and call. 

“You know you don’t have to be alone in this,” Mor replies, reaching a hand up to push a strain of hair away from his eyes. The touch was kind, they had been through so much together, always found each other with sad eyes and broken pieces needing to be put back together. 

He grabs her wrist, with a soft grip, dropping it to her side. The demons clouding his mind were something of his own creation and something he had to face alone. He wouldn’t let anyone else be a part of this destruction. “I know you’ll always be here, Mor.” 

She smiles, “Good,” she says with a new sense of chipper, “Because today, we get to pick the future wife of our dear friend Rhysand.” 

He rolls his eyes, as he begins to push Mor out of his room. “Unfortunately for you, you have to do that on your own. I am busy,” he retorts. 

She turns to glare at him, “You’re going to be busy for the next few weeks?” 

He shrugs, giving her a cocky smile, yelling a simple yup as he shuts the door. Trapping himself with his demons once again. 

~*~

Cassian’s breath hitched as he pushed himself up the hill, pumping his arms with every stride, the sun beating against his skin as the sweat dripped down his back. He wanted to keep going, push himself beyond the limits mind set for him. 

As he clears the hill, he sees Rhysand standing in the middle of the training field, holding a sword and a shirt. “Thought you could use this,” he replies, throwing the shirt towards him then he shrugs towards the sword in his hand, “And I could do this.” 

Cassian laughs, slipping the shirt on, before moving to grab his own sword. “I am starting to think you don’t want the new guests to see me and want me instead,” he retorts, rolling the sleeves before twisting the sword in his hand. “Should I go easy on you, as well? They can witness what an incredible swordsman you’d make in battle, or perhaps in a duel for their honor?” 

Rhysand shakes his head, letting out a bark of a laugh, as he stands across from Cassian. “I think they’ll be more impressed with the shiny jewels in my gold crown atop my head than anything below it,” he says, moving quickly to jab towards Cassian. 

Cassian swiftly dodges, despite the effort Rhysand put into swordplay he spent more time in diplomacy and meetings to be equal to Cassian’s level. He gives his friend a concern glance as he sends him an easy defense. “I know you didn’t want to do this, I am sorry,” Cassian says grimly, “Do you really think all of them are in it for the crown?” 

Rhysand blocks easily, scowling as he slashes towards Cassian's left arm. Cassian lifts his sword just in time for Rhysand’s sword to clash against his. “Don’t look where you're going before you move, it's your tell,” Cassian says, twisting and knocking behind his knee, he falls onto his back with a grunt. “Something you can use in the next few weeks to come.” 

Rhysand raises an eyebrow towards him, “Don’t you sound ominous,” he retorts, wiping his forehead as he reaches forward to grab the hand Cassian extended towards him. Cassian pulls him to his feet. “Again?” 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Cassian replies. 

“Would they really miss me?” Rhysand retorts, moving towards the rack to put the sword away. 

Cassian snorts, “Yeah I think the thirty or something girls here to all fight for your love to become Queen would notice,” he says, dropping his own sword by the rack. He had his own plans today and none of them involved getting anywhere near the new guests. 

“You think this is a bad idea?” Rhysand asks, turning to face his friend, and running a hand through his hair. 

Cassian sighs. “No,” he replies, “I think it's a horrible idea, one that you should have said no too.” Cassian turns to face Rhysand, “But I've known you for a long time, I know you can handle whatever your father throws at you. Even if it is an arranged marriage of sorts.” 

Rhysand chuckles, but Cassian knows it's forced, he was still trapped in his own thoughts. “There are thirty-five girls in there all here for you, any guy would be lucky to be in your position,” Cassian says, clapping his friend on the back. Rhysand gives him a bitter smile and the two part ways both leave unhappy with the way things are.

~*~

He exits the King's office with anger fueling through his bones, the King had sent a maid to find him after he finished dueling with Rhysand. Cassian couldn’t say no to the King, so he had spent the last few hours trapped in the King’s office as he discussed the upcoming assignments. 

He didn’t mind the mindless assignments that the King gave him, as long as he wasn’t commanding men to their death or basically becoming a hitman he was fine going to the different caste system to keep an eye on the rebels or to see what the rich folk were doing in two and three. 

However, this was all new low for the King, his new assignment was digging into the backgrounds of all the girls while also keeping an eye on them throughout their time in the castle. He figured he would add a few more men in the halls, especially where the prince’s room was located, but of course the King had other ideas. 

He knew that the rebels were a threat, that any of these girls could be a part of one of the many rebel groups littered through the caste systems. He also knew that he didn’t want anything to do with these girls that were blinded by the crown. He doubted any of them actually cared to learn anything about Rhysand. So purposefully being around them was not something that Cassian was looking forward to. 

He moved down the hallway, he wanted to at least accomplish one thing before the meet and greet tonight. He moved down the hallway, slamming into a small frame, he reached out to steady her elbow. He drops his hand quickly when he sees the done up hair and the fancy gown. She opens her mouth but he beats her to it, “Down the hall and to the left-,” he says, adding a comment that he probably shouldn’t have but after speaking with the King he didn’t want any of the ladies to feel welcomed. Especially ones that came from a caste system of four and up. 

She closes her mouth, nodding in thanks, as he steps around her and down the hall. He could see the hurt in her eyes but he summed that up to her never having anyone snap at her before. He moved down the hall, quickly turning on his heel when he saw Mor walking down the hall. “Cas, wait up,” She says, jogging down the hall to catch up with. “Heading to the meet and greet?” 

He rolls his eyes as she wraps her arm around his. “I guess I am now,” he retorts. 

She chuckles, squeezing his arm, as they turn the corner towards the large room the filming would take place. “Good,” Mor replies, “We can guess who we think is going to win based on their first impressions.” 

“I doubt we will be able to see the character based on one appearance,” Cassian says, as he looks around the room, it was crowded with people he had never seen. They were bustling around setting up the camera equipment. He moves towards the back of the room, he would be able to see everything clearly without appearing on the television. 

“We won’t be able to hear anything from back here,” Mor complains, getting on her tippy toes to be able to see over everyone's heads. He switches spots with her, allowing her a clear view of the stage, all he needed was to know what they look like and their names to be able to research them better. “Can’t we get closer?” 

“You can,” he retorts, “I don’t want to be anywhere near that stage.” 

Mor can’t say anything else because the girls start filtering in from a side door. The line up against the wall, all in their fanciest dresses and done up hair. Half the girls were staring up at the stage, waiting for the prince and King to make their entrance, while others were eyeing the cameras while running their hands through their hair. They were waiting for their big moment on camera. His eyes fell on the girl who he had run into earlier, she wasn’t looking at either, staring at the ground with her eyebrows furrowed. 

He wanted to look at her, examine every mannerism and detail of her face, there was a mix of emotions he couldn't read. She was nervous, that was obvious, but there was a lot more to her than he first decided. The door across from the stage opened and the King and Queen entered, followed closely by Rhysand, who looked sick with nerves. 

Rhysand was cool under pressure, but this was a new form of torture brought about by his dad. Rhysand knew first hand the differences his parents had, how his father got when he was angry, the stem of the differences brought about by how both grew up. The King as a one and the Queen as a seven, one above homelessness. The King would constantly bring up the fact that in seconds the Queen could be back in poverty. 

Rhysand and the Queen sit while the King stands up to greet the girls. “It’s a pleasure to see you all here today, it's nice to finally see your lovely faces in person rather than just pictures. The Queen and I are very lucky to be able to open our home to such incredible individuals,” he says, chuckling as he looks back to the cameras. He turns back towards his family, extending his arm out and beckoning Rhysand towards him. Rhysand reluctantly stands up and stands next to his father. “I’ll stop chattering on and allow my son to meet his potential wife!” 

Rhysand smiles tightly towards his father, as he claps Rhysand on the back, moving behind him to sit next to the Queen. “I think my father said it well enough, I am very excited to meet you all,” he says, turning towards the ladies and then motioning for the guard by the stairs so that they can begin. 

As the girls move forward, the guard announces their names and caste, he wasn’t sure why it was necessary but he guesses the King wanted to make sure that all of Prythian remembers how many lower caste girls he chose. 

“Clare Beddor, Caste Five,” The guard announces. A small girl with light skin and even lighter hair moves up to the stage, towards Rhysand, you can obviously tell that she is nervous both from the meeting the prince and from the cameras as she glances at them. Rhysand reaches forward for her hand, saying a few words to her, she smiles softly a red tint to her cheeks. 

A few more girls come up the stage that are less memorable, two girls from caste five and three from four, until Vanserra Beron is called. Everyone knew about Vanserra Beron, she was model from caste two, crawled her way up from her station as a six. Although she didn’t make that fact known publicly very often. She winks at the camera as she struts towards Rhysand. She reaches a hand out, confidence washing off her in a large wave, as Rhysand takes her hand she says that makes him bark out a laugh. 

“They would make beautiful babies,” Mor states. Cassian chuckles as he writes the name down on the list, not bothering to write any characteristics, he’d remember her name. “My vote is for her, she's the only one thats had him have a reaction.” 

Cassian doesn’t have time to respond when the next name is called. “Nesta Archeron, caste seven.” He writes down the name, glancing up when he sees the dirty blonde girl in the red dress, she moves across the stage with confidence. Not as much as Vanserra but when she moves her hand out to shake Rhysand hand rather than have him lean down and kiss it like all the girls before her, she catches Cassian eye. Rhysand seems shocked at first before breaking out into a smile and shaking her hand back. 

“I take it back, I am rooting for that one,” Mor says determinedly. Cassian can’t help but agree.

Unedited - feedback would be greatly appreciative

[have-aheart]

Unfeel your feelings

Pairing: Carter Jackson x MC (Gigi Hughes)

Book: Queen B, chapter 4

Summary: There is a sad boy that might need some support after his break up with the queen.

Author’s Note: so i really dislike Queen B’s MC so imma just make my own, likable MC.. But side note, guys i haven’t written fanfics in over seven (!) years! I mean i have so many wip’s you guys don’t wanna know, but i read today’s QB chapter and i just... inspiration!!! so please, bear with me i am so proud of myself for even finishing this! 

Word Count: 2218 (can you frikking believe??)

Even with all the drama her freud with poppy brought, Gigi never planned to break up her relationship with Carter. She even felt guilty. She has never been the person to break up people. Hell she was never someone to take up the challenge against te bullies. She usually was in the grey zone, not being bullied, not being a bully. But something had snapped that first day and something inside her decided that she would not be standing for this. That everyone was allowed to be who the wanted to be. Designer clothes or not. Since day one she felt like the protector of the bullied and she was not backing down. She didn’t give a shit about the T’s list but apparently she needed that stupid list if she wanted to teach Poppy a lesson. She was willing to get out of her comfort zone, to say her mind and to take the weirdest combination of people under her wings, maybe even befriend them. But she wasn’t some bitchy farm girl seeking to break up the IT-couple. She did not see that coming. She knew Poppy was gonna be pissed if she saw Carter joining in her dance routine, that was what she had been aiming for. But Poppy breaking up with him over that? She did not see that coming. In all honesty, Poppy was a real idiot for breaking up with him over a dance. And judging that she hadn’t seen Carter since he left the field at the end of the game, he hadn’t seen that one coming either.

 Gigi had no idea where she could find the jock. Was he still in the changing rooms? Did he maybe went back to his room already? Did they had post match traditions where the would be bar crawling with the lads? Gigi had no idea. But her feet lead her back to the bleachers by the field so maybe something in her head did know where to look. And when she arrived she did find him there. Sitting alone somewhere in the middle. Head facing his shoes. She signed softly as she took the little stairs up, taking the row behind him she dropped herself on the bench. He must be thinking deeply because he only reacted to her when she gently grabbed his shoulder. Carter jumped in his seat and turned around. His eyes soften as he looks at her. But there is no smile on his face. And Gigi really likes his smile. It’s carefree and it lights up the entire room and Gigi then decides that she never wants to see Carter again without his smile. The world is a shitty place and Carter’s smile makes it a little more worth to live in.

 “Are you okay?” she whispered, putting a little more pressure on his shoulder. He smiled thinly at her, the smile not reaching his eyes as he exhales deeply. ”I’ll be fine. Things have been rocky lately,” he signs. And Gigi can’t help but feel guilty. Does ‘lately’ mean ‘since you came here’. he eyes drop, looking at anything but him. He grabs the hand that’s on his shoulder and squeezed it, trying to get her to look at him.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. Living with Poppy is a lifestyle of its own,” he jokes but it still doesn’t ease her guilt.

“We’ve been through this before,” he smiles. “Three times to be exact. But this might be the worst she has ever reacted.” His smile changes. “Maybe it’s for the best.” Something deep inside her came to live. Was it relieve? Was it maybe hope? It’s not that she wanted them to break up, but maybe..

Nope, she lightly shook her head, trying to get these thoughts to leave. They’ve been together for so long, they survived two break ups already. They’ll get back together. Maybe by the time Gigi get into bet tonight, the two of them will be back together already. She forced a smile.

 “You guys will be okay. You can’t just cancel your feelings. Even Poppy can’t,” she smiled. “You’ll be back together in no time.” Maybe saying that out loud did hurt her more than she thought it would.

It was not like she really knew Carter all that well. Of course she saw him at parties and during classes and somethings she and Zoey would go watch some of their training while studying on the bleachers. She met this guy only a few weeks ago. She hardly knew him. She didn’t know anything about him. She didn’t know his favorite food, or color. She didn’t know what his best subjects were or anything about his family. She didn’t know about his hopes and dreams. But she did know that there was something about this boy that calmed all the storms in her head. Like she didn’t have to pretend. Like he’d just accept her as she is, boots and bandshirts and all. like she could just be Gigi, and that would be enough.

 She looked over at the field. Letting her eyes roam slowly over the grass, over the scoreboard. (still showing Belvoire’s winning results!)

“You know,” she said, slowly turning her head back towards him. “All drama aside, today was a good day.” And she didn’t meant anything about Poppy. She meant the game, and the people in the stands, and the friendships she made with the frat boys.

By the time she turned her head, his face was only inches from hers. And before she could even register what was happening, she felt his lips on hers. His hands ghosting her face. Not daring to touch and for a moment, she didn’t know what to do. This was a male, way our of her league, who just got out of an long term relationship, with a girl who was the exact opposite of her. Why were his lips on hers and was she really allowed to kiss him back. By the time she made up her mind, Carter pulled back slightly. She nervously bit her lips, looking back at him. Gently longing staring back at her. His lips pulled in a small smile as she rested her her forehead against his. Still debating if she was really worth it or if she was just a rebound after his sudden break up with Poppy. No way in hell was she a worthy opponent to fight for this boys heart. She did understand that Poppy had so much more to offer him. She got painfully aware of how close he was. How close he was willing to be. His nose barely touching hers. His breath softly caressing her lips. Gigi realized that this man was worth so much more than she could ever give him. Or Poppy for that matter.

 But in that moment he smiled at her. Teeth showing, his eyes gentle, his voice soft.

“Can’t just cancel our feelings, right,” he breathed. Nope, nope. This is were she gave in. Because she might not have accepted it herself but she knew then. She just knew that she wanted to kiss this boy. Even if she was just a rebound. Since the very beginning, this boy has felt like home. And God was she feeling homesick all of a sudden.

 She leaned in, even closer than they already were and slipped her hands around the back of neck. Right before she closed her eyes she saw some kind of relief in his eyes. His smile even bigger than before. And their lips met. Now that she allowed herself to enjoy his kind of affection all her senses came to life. She felt everything and nothing. Her hands moved to the back of his head, playing softly with his hair, trying to pull him even closer, if possible. She felt his hands move all over her body. He held her face like it was a lifeline, the only thing that kept him from drowning. They moved to her neck, causing a moan to escape from deep inside her throat. The palmed her sides, resting near her hips. She felt him smiling, shoulders relaxing as her hands travelled towards his chest. One resting slightly above his chest, one fisting his shirt, pulling him even closer. Even inhumanely close she still felt like he was too far away. She knew she was getting out of breath but she really didn’t want to leave his lips. She didn’t want to lose the comfort he brought. So when he pulled back a little to catch his breath she smiled as his lips were back on hers again almost immediately.

 She really didn’t want this to stop. It would mean going back to reality. The reality where she would still be fighting Poppy for some justice in this idiot school. The reality where she would be going back to recruiting other students just to stand a chance to kick Poppy of her high horse. The reality where Carter and Poppy would be back together in less than a week. She knew she’d want her king back, even if (in Gigi’s humble opinion) she didn’t deserve him. Neither of them deserved him. But here he was, sitting only a few inches from her, catching his breath. Her eyes still closed, she rested her forehead against his. Brushing her thumbs over his cheekbones.

 “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered. Not daring to open her eyes. She wanted to stay in this fantasy. She felt him

 “No please, let me enjoy it while it still lasts,” she breathed and their lips crashed together again. There was a whole new emotion in their kiss now. Like they both needed each other so much, live wouldn’t be bearable without the other. Like even though their bodies were pressed together there were still miles between them. Like they were each others breaths, their reason to keep breathing. She felt him pull at her hips. Placing her knees between his legs, she lowered herself in the bench beneath her. Pressing herself closer. Much closer. She needed to feel every part of his body before it was all over. Because this was a one time thing only. A moment of vulnerability. And Carter was everything but weak. His lips traveled towards her neck and something exploded inside her. Shaking her out of the bliss she had been feeling. Reality crashed into her as she realized what was happening and who it was happening with.

 She leaned back, resting on her knees. Taking her weight of his legs. She ran a hand trough her hair not looking him in the eyes as she started to get up.

“I’m sorry, we really shouldn’t be doing this.” She felt his hands fall from he body and the cold the felt behind almost made her lean in again. But she had to stop this before the went any farther and there would be no way of resetting her heart pre-Carter. She had to stop. She couldn’t do this to her own heart. She couldn’t just give him her entire heart and hope he doesn’t shove it aside the moment he went back to Poppy. Watching him go back would be hard enough without any extra feeling involved. They had to stop while they still could.

 She stood up and looked nervously at him. Her fingers going to her mouth, biting her nails. She could see the disappointment in his eyes. His hands still hovering midair wanting to pull her back in. She had to get out of here. Fast. Because she knew that the second Carter would reach out again she would just give in. She had to leave! Now!

She started walking backwards. Nerves taking over every sense.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have -” she kept mumbling, falling over her own feet.

“You and Poppy will be fine, you will be-” God she couldn’t get out there fast enough. If the ground could just split and swallow her whole please? She reached the stairs and started running down leaving Carter alone, looking confused. His heartbroken eyes watching her leave.

 She ran towards her room, rubbing the tears out of her eyes. She had to get her shit together. No more feelings. She told Carter that you can’t cancel your feelings but in this case, she had to. No more thinking about him, no more daydreams. She had to unfeel these feeling or they were going to take her down.

[darknessisafriend]

The king’s mercy

I can’t believe we’ve reached 300 followers thank you so much ! You’re insane and I love you for that !!

Pairing: Joker x Reader

Warning: NSFW

Prompt: Joker likes it when you call him “King”, and he’s going to show his gratitude, he’s going to take care of you until you squirt.

Tag list: @unlikelywizardfun @help-i-am-obssessed @the-ineffable-dreamer @skaravile

If you want to be added to the tag list PM me ! 

The king’s mercy

He liked it when you called him like that: King.

It had started after the second wave of riots when you had helped him escape Arkham. The support from the people of Gotham was even stronger than before, they were fighting to serve him, get a chance to approach him and tell him what he represented for them. He was building his army, his people. Some were calling him the clown prince of Gotham. But to you he was so much more, he was what Gotham deserved and he was yours, despite all the people coming to him, men or women he only had eyes for you. He was your king.

And you took pride in it, being the only one he could listen too, the only one who could touch the Joker and the only one he had desire for.

He had established himself in an abandoned manor in the suburbs of Gotham. He was sitting on his throne, he listened to them, you were installed on the armrest of the throne, meticulously sharpening one of your daggers.

It was a gang of a bunch of girls under his orders, they were talking about some people from the mob causing problems especially one Mafiosi guy who had a lot of people too.

You hated those girls, they radiated desire for him, dressing with little clothes as possible, talking to him with a suave voice and even making advances to him right under your nose, how dare they! You wanted to shoot them dead for disrespecting you, but you didn’t want to anger Joker, so you hold back. You passed an arm around his shoulders, caressing his hair, watching their reaction, their eyes shooting daggers at you, you smirked provocatively at them ‘it’s something you’ll never get to do bitch!’ your finger travelled to his neck, teasingly brushed against his skin, enjoying the looks of jealously they had. Joker was getting slightly distracted by your attention, sometimes looking at you, intrigued by your behavior but he liked it, you could hear him softly hum. At some point he passed one arm around you, his hand resting on your hip, his fingers distractingly caressing you, traveling to your thigh or your ass.

This little game was turning you on, you slowly slid you hand under his vest touching his collarbone through his shirt. He took a deep breath, you could tell he was growing annoyed by this little meeting.

“I can kill him for you Joker.” Proposed one of the girls, caressing her gun suggestively. And Joker chuckled, your jealously took over, so you leaned closer to him, brushing your lips against the shell of his ear.

“Or I could take care of it…my king…” you whispered lovingly, knowing the effect this name had on him. He laughed amused. He turned his head to look at you, his eyes were dark with desire.

“Come with me baby.” He ordered you, standing up and heading to an adjacent room of the manor. Leaving his followers clueless. You went after him, genuinely curious, was he angry at you? You wondered.  

In a flash of movement, you were suddenly pressed against the wall, his lips were on you almost instantly; you whimpered, your lips bruising with the rough passion of his kiss. You parted your lips, letting your tongue flick across his lips, begging entrance, and he rapidly took control, letting his tongue plunder your mouth, leaving you breathless.

After what seemed like hours of torturous contact between your lips, you felt him press his hips against your body, you could feel the hard bulge in his pants, that told you just how much he’d wanted you. His hands brought your wrists together over your head, and he pinned them there with one hand. You barely had time to wonder what he was going to do, that his hand was slipping under your shirt, grazing your belly. His hand continued its way upward until he found your breast, cupping it eagerly. His lips never left yours, except for the briefest of moments to breathe before he took control again. His fingers found your hard nipple, and he began to circle his thumb around it.  You gasped, your hips bucking against him, your whole body charged with energy and lust.

Then, your hips brushing against him made him grunt in reply, and he pulled his lips away from yours so he could press you against the wall even harder.

“Can you feel what you’re doing to me?” He growled, letting his lips drop to your jaw, his teeth grazing along your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“Your burning touch, calling me ‘your king’, I like that baby…” His hand moved from your breast and trailed down your stomach again until he slipped it beneath your pants.

“And I want to show you how grateful I am Y/N…” You panted as you felt his hand between your legs, before those fingers delved deeper, feeling just how moist you were already feeling, the touches, the unspoken tension. You mewled and arched your back as his fingers slipped between your wet lips and plunged deepe.

“So ready for me…” He growled in your ear, kissing your jaw.

You moaned again, struggling against his grip on your wrists. It didn’t matter how long you’d wanted him to touch you, the sensation was slow, an ecstatic torture. As his fingers began to thrust a slow rhythm into your wanting body, his thumb found the sensitive nub there and began to rub it. Slowly at first, but soon he’d adapted a strong, steady rhythm that elicited cries from you, you tried not to make too much noise, because people were behind that door, but it was hard. You could feel your body tightening around his fingers, getting closer and closer to the edge, and just when you thought it would happen… he stopped.

“Oh my god, no, no, no,” you moaned, begged, pleaded as his fingers stilled inside of her. “Please, please, J, don’t stop…” He grinned, it seemed to be exactly what he wanted to hear, he was simply teasing you.

“You want more? What don’t you call by my favorite name first hmm?”  

“Please my king I want more…” you begged; he growled and gave you a tender kiss on the lips.

“That’s my girl” He let go of your wrists, and guided you to the nearest table, laying you down on it. He sat on the edge of it, looking down at you, like you were the most beautiful person he could have. He took off his jacket, setting it on a chair and he rolled up his sleeves.

He slowly pulled your pants off, leaving you naked from the waist down. With a dark, smoldering look. He started to kiss you more wildly. His hand caressing your stomach while the other cupped your jaw.

“You don’t cum until I say. You get it?” he asked, serious.

“Yes…” He arched an eyebrow.

“Yes my king” you repeated eager to what was going to follow.

He climbed on the table, and goes down on you, his lips kissing your lower belly until he arrived between your legs. He took hold of your thighs, spreading your legs.

His tongue starts at the bottom of your vulva, making you gasp in anticipation, he slowly moved his head upward to reach your clit, slowly, making sure you could enjoy all of it, then he stopped pulling away from you, his tongue no longer in contact with your spot, you whimpered surprised but then he started again at the bottom of your vulva to go up again, repeating this action several times, and it was driving you crazy, this slow yet so pleasurable rhythm.

Then, he placed his lips over your clit, and gently started sucking it, you closed your eyes, pinching your lips together. Then, his tongue ran along your lips in a way that made you shiver and gasp once more. He kept his attention to your outer lips at first. But, one of his hands came up and parted your lips, allowing his tongue to reach your sensitive, swollen nub again. His tongue increased its pace, making you shudder and cry out in short, shocked bursts. As he flicked his tongue along you, you felt each wave of pleasure as it brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“My k… I’m going to…” you tried to warn, your mouth failing to form words in your moment of need. So he stopped, he straightened, coming back to sit next to your hip on the edge of the table.

“Now, now baby be patient… I saved you the best for last…” he added chuckling at how he made you feel.

And oh yes, you were so wet, he had already brought you to the edge twice, this was driving you crazier than you already were.  Still he slowly licks his fingers, and slowly inserts them inside you, your body arches at the contact.

“You’re going to like it baby, daddy’s going to take good care of you…” he purrs, kissing your nipples and then your lips, tasting yourself at the same time.

His fingers still inside of you, he rested his warm palm against your clit, the pressure making you move you hips for satisfaction. He clicked his tongue, slightly laughing.

“Now don’t be so impatient hmmm? Did your king said you could move?” You shook your head.

“Say it out loud Y/N”

“No…I can’t move…my king…” you managed to articulate, panting in anticipation. With his free hand, he blocked your arms above your head. He slowly started to move his hand, his fingers applying pressure to your inside, it was a new sensation for you, but it felt good, pleasurable. His fingers were precise alternating between circling and curling, applying more pressure sometimes making you moan in pleasure.  His arm followed the up and down movement pleasuring your clit at the same time, he increased the speed, you bit your lower lip hard, trying to dissimulate the first screams that wanted to come out.  

“You like it?” he asked, you whimpered in response, opening your legs wider. He quickly took his fingers out and quickly after inserted them once again, continuing the movements, faster and faster, bringing you closer to the edge. His movement were almost rough, but it felt so good.

“Good girl” he purred, kissing your jaw, you were going to come, he felt it.

“Now come for me baby” he groaned into your ear, taking his fingers out.

With a moan that seemed to vibrate through your whole body, you felt a huge pressure building up and then it was release like you never had before, your body convulsing, like you couldn’t control it anymore, you screamed and moaned loudly, feeling warm liquid come out,  god you never felt like this before, your body continued to convulse a bit more, but then you laughed,  a pure laugh of happiness, you never felt so good before, it felt like letting go of everything, to have nothing left but peace and happiness.

The people in the next room had definitely heard you, except now you didn’t care cause they all knew you were his girl and he was your king. He had a big grin, he took out a handkerchief, and with care, he cleaned off the wet you had put on your thighs.

“So how did you like my little gift?” he asked teasing, he already knew the answer but wanted to hear it out loud.

“Amazing…” was the only you managed to pronounce. He leaned over you to give you a loving kiss. You shakily sat back as he stood up, he went to take his jacket and put it around your shoulders. Then, he headed towards the door, you opened your mouth in protest, he interrupted

“Oh and keep my jacket on. I want to see you come out of this room with it, so they will learn to respect you.” He winked at you, so he understood what had happened, you chuckled to yourself tightening his clothes around your body.

‘Yeah bitches you’ll never get him’

[fablesrose]

Of Kings and Shadows VIII

Chapter VIII

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader (eventually)

Notes: On Wattpad --> Here

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today. Today was going to be a good day. Music lured me to wake, the bass guitar thrumming through my bones. I arched my back stretching, a satisfied groan escaping my lips. Very rarely did I feel well-rested when I awoke, my job not helping that much, but this morning was not normal. While I didn't like being side-lined on the field, it did give me some extra time to get rested. I rolled my head side to side, glad my neck wasn't sore anymore. It was strange to be able to swallow without wincing uncomfortably.

I got dressed, ate breakfast, and got packed up to be ready for work. I had to make multiple trips around my apartment, which wasn't much trouble with how small it was. With my type of job, I had to either have a roommate that also works for Shield or live on my own. With how fast the arrangements were sorted out I didn't have time to search for an appropriate roomie, and the more I stayed in my apartment, the more I got accustomed to living alone. I eventually got comfortable enough to call it home.

I had to do a double-take when my eyes scanned over my athletic clothing when I was reviewing if I had everything. I nearly forgot that yesterday they had cleared me to start training again. I smiled, remembering that I was one step closer to getting back in the game. My superiors told me to focus on getting back up to speed in my performance, so I didn't have to learn how to do Ike's job. I returned his manual withing five minutes, ready to get back to the job I loved.  

I had cleaned out my locker when I was on leave, the perfect opportunity to wash clothes. I hadn't replaced them since I wasn't going to be using them any time soon. I quickly grabbed an outfit to wear while training and headed out the door.

I stuck all my bags in the corner of my office space. I had a couple of assignments I had to finish up before I could go to the training room. I wrapped them up quickly, ready to work out.

Entering the training room was almost nostalgic. Even though it wasn't that long since I've been there, it felt like it had been forever. I adjusted my t-shirt collar, pulling it away from my neck a hair. I tucked my shirt into my running shorts and started some simple stretches, making sure my shirt didn't ride up while I was doing them. There weren't very many people there at the moment, and I wasn't sure if I liked it or not.

I decided to play it safe today and not work my self too hard. I approached the punching bag wrapping my hands. I focused on my hands hitting the bag. I got into a rhythm, the rest of the world zoning out of focus. I occasionally felt the twinge of eyes flowing over me, but I was in a safe place, so I just kept going. I only used my arms, for now, deciding to work up to using the rest of my body.

Sooner than I would have liked, sweat started to drip off of my forehead and my arms started to protest the repetition. I quickly shook out my limbs and reached for my bottle of water. I started to take two or three large swallows.

"I heard you were cleared to start training."

The unexpected comment startled me to cut off my water break and shove me into a coughing fit.

"Na-- I mean Agent Romanoff!" I fit in a few more wheezes, "I didn't see you there."

Natasha patted my back to help stop the coughing.

"I could tell, and I've told you not to call me that y/n"

"Sorry Natasha" I cleared my throat one more time and took a swig of water to wash everything down.

She smiled slightly, how she wasn't named Miss Universe every year even without entering was beyond me. I looked up to her and she seemed to represent what I wanted to become, but standing next to her... It seemed impossible. She was skilled in combat, infiltration, manipulation, she was beautiful, intelligent, and she runs with the 'big boys.' Instead of asking what she is, the shorter list is what Natasha isn't. One thing on that list is she isn't super, she doesn't have powers. And that is not encouraging.

"So, how are you holding up?"

I wiped the sweat from my forehead, "not as well as I had hoped." I laughed weakly, "I'm not gonna lie, this sucks."

She gave a quiet huff of laughter.

I tilted my head back and shouted exasperatedly, "why did I have to be stupid and get out of shape!?"

"Hey, it wasn't your fault, Loki was stupid and put you out of commission," she paused, "we could have used you on a couple of missions these past few weeks."

I side-eyed her, "it could be argued that I was a dumb there as well," I heaved a deep sigh, "but I appreciate that. Thank you, Natasha."

"No problem, but don't expect me to do that every day."

"Not planning on it."

"Go shower, get cleaned up. You have to work yourself back into it. It looks like you worked yourself well." She placed a hand on my shoulder, "if you're free you should stop by the compound every once in a while."

I smiled, "I'll see what I can do."

After a long stretch session and an even longer shower, I returned to my desk. I kept typing away and working on paperwork. My finger occasionally twirled my little fly-aways that delicately curled around my face after my shower. They were my favorite part about taking a shower, my hair just wet enough to curl naturally. It was the same effect that happened when I am out in the rain.  

I zoned out working on my computer, occasionally rolling my shoulders to loosen them up from my work out. Slowly the minutes passed, only noticeable by the silent turning of the numbers on my monitor clock. I missed the excitement of my day, the suspense of the job, the people I talked to.

A knock on my closed door dragged me from my train of thought, I turned in my chair to see who was about to walk in.

It was Agent Fletcher, file in hand, and with the look on his face, it was safe to assume he got back from a mission not too long ago. "Agent L/n," he respectfully waited for me to nod my head before stepping onto my office. "I have a file here with some information that needs to get to the Avengers, Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark in particular."

I reached my arms above my head to stretch before standing and taking the file, "Yes sir. I'll head over to the compound now."

"Be careful, I would like you back in the field as soon as possible."

"Thank you, sir, I will."

The commute to the compound was relatively short, my thoughts occupying me the whole way. I approached the front desk with security handing them my Shield ID for them to scan. They quickly sent me through not saying a word. I walked down the main hallway, not quite sure where the team was.

"Hey, Jarvis?"

"Yes, miss?"

I couldn't help looking up at the ceiling to where the voice was coming from, "Do you mind telling me where the team is?"

"Most are currently in the living area at the moment."

I swallowed, "Most?"

"Tony, Dr. Banner, Natasha, Steve, and Loki are there right now. Thor is in the kitchen, a room over, and Clint is making his way to the living area as we speak."

I let out a breath, "Thank you, Jarvis, do you mind telling me the easiest way to get there?"

"Not at all miss, take the elevator to your right to the third floor and then take another right. This will take you directly to the living area"

"Much appreciated"

I followed the directions the AI told me. Of course, I had been there before, but every time I came it was from a different direction or I was high on anesthetic drugs. I walked down the hallway approaching what I recognized as the living room; when I got there the whole team was there sitting on various surfaces. Tony was standing upfront in the which it seemed he had just made an announcement. I knocked on the doorframe, causing Tony to turn around to face me.

"Hey! Y/n gets to go first!"

I raised an eyebrow in question before scanning my eyes over the facial expressions of the team. They all looked a combination of concerned, confused, amused, and on a select few dread. That wasn't the most encouraging, so I decided to shut it down quickly.

"I don't know what you are talking about, but it's going to be a no. I just came to give you and Dr. Banner this file." I handed the file to Tony and made eye contact with Bruce to make sure he knew it was for him as well.

"Y/n, call me Bruce. It sounds distant coming from you"

I smiled and gave a nod, "Okay Bruce." I gave a silent wave to everyone and turned to escape from whatever I was voluntold to do, but Tony grabbed my arm.

"Nuh-uh uh, Y/n, you can't leave until you sing one song."

My eyes went wide staring at him.

"It's karaoke!"

I sighed, "really? Can't leave?"

"Yup, Jarvis? Lockdown this floor."

The hallway closed off at the end blocking any escape.

Tony let go of my arm, "pick a song, any song. There's a prop box you can pick from too in the room to the right." He walked back to the couch and sat down. Everybody looked at me expectedly.

"Okay, okay, um... I'll be back." I walked into the room where he said the prop box was. Why they had a prop box, I had no idea, but I figured I'd give them a show if I couldn't leave.

I closed the door behind me to tell Jarvis discreetly what song I wanted. I quickly dug through the box and found the perfect costume. I took a deep breath to prep myself, "Jarvis, are they ready?"

"Yes miss"

"M'kay, don't let me down"

"Wouldn't dream of it, ma'am"

I took that as my cue and burst through the door. There was one beat of stunned silence before the music started and I lifted a fake microphone to my lips.

I'm through with standin' in lines to clubs I'll never get in It's like the bottom of the ninth and I'm never gonna win This life hasn't turned out Quite the way I want it to be

I walked to the front of the room as I sang. There were a few snickers I could hear which made it hard to hold a straight face. I left the asides of the song to the track Jarvis was playing but still held out my microphone to Bruce like he was singing it.

(Tell me what you want)

I want a brand new house on an episode of Cribs And a bathroom I can play baseball in And a king-size tub Big enough for ten plus me

I mimed swinging a baseball bat with the microphone in hand, continuing to sing the song. This time when I put the mic to Tony's face he sang along with a little smirk on his face.

(Yeah, so what you need?)

I need a credit card that's got no limit And a big black jet with a bedroom in it Gonna join the mile high club At thirty-seven thousand feet

It was Clint's turn and he rocked the line.

(Been there, done that)

I want a new tour bus full of old guitars My own star on Hollywood Boulevard Somewhere between Cher And James Dean is fine for me

For the last aside I raised the mic for them all to sing along, well everyone who knew the song.

(So how you gonna do it?)

I held the microphone to my chest and sung quietly, almost sweetly.

I'm gonna trade this life For fortune and fame I'd even cut my hair And change my name

There was a slight pause, and then I pulled down cheap purple star-shaped sunglasses and wrapped a fluffy boa around my neck.

'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars And live in hilltop houses, drivin' fifteen cars

I swung my hair around to the beat of the line, quickly rocking out to the song.

The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat

And we'll hang out in the coolest bars In the VIP with the movie stars

I pointed at the group in front of me with a wink and proceeded to prance around the couch.

Every good gold digger's gonna wind up there Every Playboy bunny with her bleach blond hair

I placed my hands on Thor's head and placed my chin over top, tilting my head innocently, but with a wicked smirk that said otherwise.

And well, hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar Hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar

I wanna be great like Elvis without the tassels

I swung my boa around, taking a risk and flipping it in Loki's face causing everyone else to laugh and Loki to sneeze feathers.

Hire eight bodyguards that love to beat up assholes Sign a couple autographs So I can eat my meals for free

I mimed the words and chose Steve to be the deep voice, but he only stretched his mouth and shook his head.

(I'll have the quesadilla, ha, ha)

I'm gonna dress my ass with the latest fashion Get a front door key to the Playboy mansion Gonna date a centerfold that loves To blow my money for me

I shook my hips and offered the microphone to the whole group to ask the question.

(So how you gonna do it?)

I'm gonna trade this life For fortune and fame I'd even cut my hair And change my name

'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars And live in hilltop houses, drivin' fifteen cars The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat

And we'll hang out in the coolest bars In the VIP with the movie stars Every good gold digger's gonna wind up there Every Playboy bunny with her bleach blond hair

And we'll hide out in the private rooms With the latest dictionary of today's who's who They'll get you anything with that evil smile Everybody's got a drug dealer on speed dial

With each phrase, I pointed at someone who personified it best, Tony, Steve, and Loki, respectively.

Well, hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar

I'm gonna sing those songs that offend the censors Gonna pop my pills from a Pez dispenser Get washed-up singers writin' all my songs Lipsync 'em every night so I don't get 'em wrong

Through it all, I was jamming out, jumping, making up random dance moves, acting out the words of the song. As the final chorus came up, I tried to sing it sincerely, standing still at the front of the room, making eye contact with everyone in the room.

Well, we all just wanna be big rockstars And live in hilltop houses, drivin' fifteen cars The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat

After I sang the last line of the stanza I jumped up and landed feet spread apart, pointing at the group. I reached out for Natasha to join me, but she shook her head no. I playfully glared at her as I finished the song getting hyped up for the last couple of stanzas.

And we'll hang out in the coolest bars In the VIP with the movie stars Every good gold digger's gonna wind up there Every Playboy bunny with her bleach blond hair

And we'll hide out in the private rooms With the latest dictionary of today's who's who They'll get you anything with that evil smile Everybody's got a drug dealer on speed dial

I slowly took the sunglasses off of my nose and unwrapped the boa from my neck as I sang the last two lines.

Well, hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar Hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar

There was a moment of silence before everyone started to clap for me. I took what I tried to make a regal bow and was smiling like an idiot probably, but it was a lot of fun.

After the applause died down Tony spoke, "wow, I was not expecting that."

Laughing ensued as I took another bow.

"I guess I'm just full of surprises"

I looked around to see most of the team nodding in agreeance and a few were smiling with what could be described as fondness. I thought I saw Loki with a similar expression, but it was kind of hard to tell.

"Well, you got your file and you got your song, so," I looked at the time quickly, "it looks like it's time for me to clock out and go home." I turned towards the now open hallway before sticking my head back into the room. "Have fun with your karaoke, and make sure to tell me if someone shows me up." I tossed the props to Tony who was sitting on the couch and walked out without another word.

Tags: @nightrose64

[pol-emic]

A–Z NSFW Steve Harrington!

his is so shitty i’m sorry🥺 please ignore any and all spelling mistakes i started this at 5am, fell asleep, and continued it at 3pm today. but, here it is! fresh and nsfw as fuck :D. so do not read if you’ll be uncomfortable xoxo! enjoy, though.

A= Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

•steve loves holding his partner. loved the way their warm bodies collided together and how well you fit into him. he especially loved carrying you to the bath and making the water warm, hoping to ease whatever pain he could have caused you.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs)

•his thighs. he loved to watch you squirm around on them, the way your whimpered his name was absolutely beautiful to him.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

•he loved to cum inside you when you were on the pill or proper medicine to do so, loved the way he could fill you with himself even more than his cock would. it was purely satisfying, they was his streams would leak into you.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

•he loves holding your wrists above your head with his hands. not really a fan of cuffs because he wouldn’t want to hurt you, but his large hands were enough to keep your wrists in place as your body withered around his cock.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

•considering he was the ex-king of Hawkins high school and practically sawed through any girl who asked for it, you could say Steve was rather experienced. his tongue alone was enough to have you gripping at his blue checkered sheets while his parents watched tv downstairs.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

•he likes when you ride him, the way you look so helpless and it’s because of him. he also thought the faces you would pull were absolutely breathtaking, so he would often put you on top and thrust as well as he could, forcing his eyes open to take in your flushed cheeks and messy hair.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

•he’s a great mix of both. usually his parents were home when you guys stuff, so he’d place a long vinyl album on his turn-table and go to town. often times, though, he would pause between whatever he was doing to to, letting the lyrics fall from his lips; it was to both tease you and make you giggle, another sound he loved hearing. especially when he caused it.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

•steve’s hair is his pride and joy, so it’s not surprise that down there is just as well-kept. sure, he didn’t have a lot of pubic hair, but his happy trail was enough to drive you wild, so he would take extra care of it when he knew he’d see you.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

•he looks into your eyes, plants soft kisses all over your body, whatever you ask he does. he’s a very romantic man, and even though he can be a bit of an animal at times, he truly was a gentleman. he’d go as slow and as soft as you asked him to. he has nothing but respect for you. no matter the situation.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

•steve jacks off a lot, especially when you’re on vacation during summer and he’s off from work. he likely has some sexual polaroids if you that you mutually agreed on taking(consent first, always!!), and he uses them whenever he can’t have you on his cock or on his mouth.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

•is hair pulling a kink? if not, steve loves when you call him daddy. the way it’ll roll so beautifully off your lips absolutely sends him into the heat, a heat so strong he couldn’t escape if he wanted to. so yeah, steve has a massive daddy kink.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

•he likes his bed, the couch, the marble countertops at his parents place. but what really excites him is fucking you on one of the countertops after hours at scoops. the simple idea of being caught or watched was enough to have his cock twitching in his little blue shorts.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

•when you move your body, or when you kiss him a little harder than usual. just simple things, things other people may not notice like he does.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

•he wouldn’t share you if his life deepened on it. especially when you brought up a threesome between him, billy hargrove, and yourself. that alone was enough to have him pounding you to tears. steve was a very jealous man.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

•a healthy mix of both, once again. although he loved the way you’d shake and whimper, and he absolutely adored the way you tasted, steve was also a fan of early morning blowjobs in his car before you went to school or he went to work.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

•he’s very slow. he takes his time undressing you and caressing your curves and shapes. he does this because it not only makes you explode with warmth, but it’s also a gentle reminder that you are real and you do love him and would never leave him. it’s a simple reminder that he’s wanted by someone was lovely as you when he feels so alone most of the time.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

•he loves them. especially at the mall before, during, or after your guys shifts. he thought the way you help the cash register at the vinyl shop when everyone was gone was beautiful, and it especially excited him when he knew your manager was taking stock in the back.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

•of course. he’d try everything once, and the quit once you both got bored. he’ll do whatever you ask of him, not seeming to care how random or bizarre it was—whatever makes you happy.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

•he could do a few rounds after work, make 3-4 at best. but when he’s off work and waited for you to come over, then he could go for hours with you, it’s like your body was drug his cock was very much addicted to.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

•not really. considering it’s the early 80s, sex toys weren’t really offered to teens, so he made due with what he had; belts, blindfolds, wooden spoons for you to clamp down on, even his fucking ice cream scooper would come into play sometimes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

•steve loves teasing you. he loves the way he could get you a simple look and have you drooling in his lap, practically creating a pool of your wetness on his legs when you would usually rest your body, especially at parties. there you’d tease him, groping his covered shaft, humping his knees and thighs slightly, whispering things in his ears. teasing was a game you both loved and hated at the same time.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Steve was decently loud, but could be quiet if he had to. he does anything from throaty moans, to soft, cat-like mews when you’re jacking him off in the theater at the mall. so, steve harrington could sound anywhere between an the softest man ever, to the hardest bitch in the game.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

•He’s always liked the idea of fucking you while somebody else watches—though he would never act on that idea. so instead, he settles for fucking you in front of a mirror, holding you jaw so you have no choice but to watch the way his cock pounds inside you feverishly.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

•steve was around 8 inches hard, maybe a little more. he was definitely a grower, not necessarily a shower, but his cock alone drove you absolute mad, so he was quite proud of his size.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

•rather high, especially as s teen boy. so, really anything you did could be taken sexually by him. steve was an absolute dog, honestly. but he knew when to restrict himself and definitely knew when the time to act like a true gentleman when the time truly came down to it.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

•he doesn’t fall asleep until he knows you’re absolutely comfortable and satisfied with everything that had happened to you that night or day. steve definitely doesn’t sleep til he knows you’re dressed in your favorite sleep shirt of his, has had a shower, and your body isn’t aching. he always chooses you over him because he loves you and you’re the most important thing to him.

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@vclvetbreeze @imissbilly @lovcrleavxr @grccndale @uncle-keery @tooafrd

—send me an ask to be on my tag list, i dont bite! also send in requests!!! i’ll write anything.

[entwinedmoon]

John Torrington: A Portrait of the Stoker as a Young Man

(Previous posts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8)

Different forms of art have depicted Torrington in different ways. In my last post I discussed how in music Torrington seems to be depicted as either some sort of restless spirit or reanimated man-out-of-time, with a focus on his death and the eerie undead appearance of his mummified body. There’s not much of a focus on what he was like when he was alive, with the inspiration for these works coming from the image of his dead body. Sadly, we don’t have any pictures of what he looked like when he was alive, but that doesn’t mean people haven’t tried to imagine it. In fact, Torrington’s depiction in visual artworks often focus more on what he was like when he was alive, with various attempts at reconstructing what he may have looked like before he died and was buried on Beechey.

One of the first attempts at recreating what he may have looked like comes from the Nova documentary “Buried in Ice.” At the very end of the documentary, there are artistic reconstructions of Torrington, Hartnell, and Braine. I’m not entirely sure who the artist was, but the credits list an illustrator, Wayne Schneider, and he may have been the one to draw these. I can’t find the illustrations outside of the documentary, so please forgive the bad quality of the screenshot I had to use below.

Here we have a John Torrington who looks aged before his time. He was only twenty when he died, but judging by the state of his lungs, he probably had a hard life, so he may have looked much older than his years. This is a very serious-looking Torrington, as if he were standing for a portrait or daguerreotype for several minutes and had to stay completely still.

This drawing also gives him almost shoulder-length hair. Owen Beattie was a technical consultant on the documentary, so he probably had a say in what the recreations of the Beechey Boys may have looked like. This makes me think that the hair length shown here is most likely how long his hair actually was. Yes, I know, I’m going on about his hair again, but due to the confusion over what his hair looked like, it tends to vary across artistic depictions, as we shall see.

Another thing of note in this recreation is the noticeable lines around his mouth. In the pictures of Torrington’s mummified body, there are prominent lines around his mouth, but how much of that was due to postmortem distortions and how much would have shown on his face in life is hard to know. The artwork above is not an official forensic facial reconstruction, and even official reconstructions are highly subjective, so this is just one possible interpretation.

There’s another artistic interpretation of Torrington from around the same time. Remember the children’s book Buried in Ice? Well, what’s a kid’s book without some illustrations?

Now that’s the face of a man who got sick of backbreaking, lung-destroying labor in Manchester and said, “Screw it, I’m going to the Arctic.” The hair here is similar to that depicted in the documentary illustration, but the lines around his mouth are softened. The illustrations for this book were done by Janet Wilson, and she brought a liveliness to Torrington’s face that the somber drawing from the documentary greatly lacked. He still has a slightly careworn face, but he looks closer to his actual age. Janet Wilson also did wonderful detailing on the shirt that he was buried in, which he is wearing in her drawing. The kerchief tied around his head in death is here tied around his neck—and I love the inclusion of the blue border around the kerchief, which is not really noticeable in the photos from his exhumation but is noted in the reports on his burial clothes.

I’m fond of this picture because it gives Torrington some personality beyond that of a sad, tragic victim. It makes him seem like a real person who lived, with a bit of a sly and carefree attitude. He also gives off a kind of back alley salesman vibe, like he knows a guy who knows a guy who could sell you a kidney. But I especially like it because he’s smiling as he’s speaking, and after seeing picture after picture of Torrington’s frozen death grimace, I would love to know what he looked like when he smiled.

There’s another artistic reconstruction which I found on YouTube. It’s by artist M.A. Ludwig, who has a YouTube channel (under the name JudeMaris) dedicated to facial reconstructions of various historical figures, including all three of the Beechey Boys. Here’s Ludwig’s interpretation of what Torrington may have looked like:

He looks much younger here than in either of the two previous interpretations. This John Torrington looks like a young man ready for adventure, with hopes and dreams of a long future. He has slightly shorter hair in this interpretation, but also, he’s blond. I’ve noticed confusion online about the color as well as length of Torrington’s hair, with a lot of people these days thinking he’s blond. I think that may have something to do with the wood shavings he’s resting on in photos, which as I discussed in a previous post, some people have confused for his hair. I’ve also encountered a few versions of the usual photos of him where the lighting looks different, resulting in the few visible wisps of his hair looking much lighter than official reports have described them. Interestingly, the blond hair makes him look younger and gives him an innocent and almost naïve appearance, completely different from the sly, I’ve-got-a-bridge-to-sell-you Torrington from the children’s book.

Now I’m going to move on to an artist who is well known to Franklinites. Kristina Gehrmann (@iceboundterror​) is a German illustrator and graphic artist who specializes in works with a historical or fantasy setting. She has drawn many pictures inspired by the Franklin Expedition, and I have bought several of them from her shop on Etsy, including three different versions of the ships Terror and Erebus sailing in the Arctic or caught in the ice. Currently, those three pictures are on my wall next to a large painting I inherited from my grandparents of two non-Franklin-related ships that I pretend are Terror and Erebus anyway (I call this wall The Boat Place). Gehrmann also wrote and illustrated a graphic novel in German about the Franklin Expedition, Im Eisland, published in three parts and available through Amazon. But if, like me, you don’t speak German, Gerhmann has made an English translation, titled Icebound, available for free here.

Gehrmann has actually drawn two slightly different versions of Torrington, one of which is more like the artistic reconstructions shown above and the other is of a fictionalized Torrington in the graphic novel Im Eisland. I love both of her interpretations, but they are of two different styles. Let’s start with the graphic novel version.

Im Eisland uses a manga-like style, so this version of Torrington is based in that. It gives him a wide-eyed, youthful—and joyful—appearance (when he isn’t dying of consumption, of course). This is the happiest and liveliest Torrington I’ve seen. The manga art style results in some simplified features and a rather modern hairstyle, but there’s nothing wrong with using some artistic license to better convey the personality of a character.

Gerhmann’s other illustration of Torrington is possibly my favorite, even if it might not be the most accurate:

This is a lovely illustration, and it really plays up Torrington’s youth, making him look almost angelic. I’m going to be completely honest—he is very pretty. This version of Torrington is an incredibly handsome young lad, and if Torrington really looked like this, then I think he probably would have been very popular in life. I could go on, but I probably shouldn’t.

I also love the amazing detail on the shirt. You may have noticed some slight variations in these recreations when it comes to his shirt, and I think that’s due to the fact that his shirt looks downright complicated in the few pictures we have of it. There are horizontal stripes and vertical stripes. There’s a high collar and buttons and all these folds that it can be hard to see exactly what it looks like, and unfortunately there were no textile experts present during the exhumation, so there was no one to lay out the shirt and take a closer look at it before redressing and burying him. But every time someone gives their best attempt at figuring out the puzzle that is his shirt, I’m happy, and this one looks very close to how it may have actually looked. My one issue with this picture is that his hair is short and blond, which doesn’t fit the description provided in the autopsy report. But the facial features look true, so I tend to overlook that little nitpick.

This version of Torrington, by the way, is probably the most well-known interpretation. In fact, when you search for John Torrington on Google, this picture crops up:

I have even seen online articles about Torrington that use this picture as a reconstruction example. This is in no way an official reconstruction of him, but it is by far the most popular. (And yes, I bought a copy of this picture, too.)

While reconstructions of what Torrington may have looked like when alive are common among artists depicting him, there is some artwork that uses images of his mummified body as inspiration instead. Irish artist Vincent Sheridan has a gorgeous collection of work inspired by the Franklin Expedition. Several of these feature the mummy of John Torrington, including an etching aptly named “John Torrington.”

Torrington appears as a ghostly apparition in many of these prints, alongside the repeated imagery of a skull, two very physical signs of the human cost of the expedition. While most of the bodies of the men lost have yet to be found, their bones scattered or buried across King William Island, Torrington’s body is a stark reminder that this tragedy did happen, and that these men did die, not just vanish off the face of the earth. I’ve described Torrington as the poster boy for the expedition before, and here his death seems to represent the death of everyone who sailed with Franklin, his face a haunting piece of evidence for the fate that met them all.

Now, I’m not entirely sure how best to transition between that solemn reminder of death and this last piece of Torrington-inspired artwork that I would like to mention, so I’m just going to dive in. This next artwork also uses the image of Torrington’s mummy as inspiration, but in a completely different manner from Sheridan’s work. I refer, of course, to the John Torrington plushie.

This adorable little mummy plushie was created by craft artist Nancy Soares, aka sinnabunnycrafts on Etsy (@sinnaminie​). Whether you think a plushie of a mummified body is in good taste or not, you have to agree that this little guy is freakin’ cute. I might be slightly biased, though, because he was originally crafted for a custom request from my sister as a birthday present for me. But now anyone can buy him or his Beechey buddies. This little guy even made a special appearance during John Geiger’s presentation at the Mystic Seaport Museum’s symposium, Franklin Lost and Found.

I think the fact that there’s a plushie of John Torrington is amazing. People used to take pictures of the recently deceased and use their dead loved one’s hair in jewelry to remember them, so this isn’t that different. To me, at least, it’s a memento to honor him, reminding me that Torrington was more than just a boy who died but a boy who once lived as well.

It is also super adorable.

Next: Torrington as depicted in literature. Spoiler alert! He dies. A lot.

<<Back | Next >>

Torrington Series Masterlist

[enigmaticbughead]

Dry Spell - Bughead Smut

In which Betty finally gets Jughead to relieve her sexual frustration right in the middle of the Blue & Gold.

*******

Betty shifts in her desk at the Blue and Gold, suddenly keenly aware of Jughead’s jawline and the way his lips purse ever so slightly as he concentrates on whatever’s on his laptop screen. She swallows down against the lump in her throat, turning her focus back to her practice math problems. The ACTs are next week and she really should be studying but she can’t concentrate, not with him sitting just a few feet away. She was humming with arousal, and Jughead hadn’t even so much as looked at her in a suggestive way. 

keep reading below the cut or on Ao3

 They’d been going through a rather dry spell. Well, for them, at least.

 Comparatively to the whole of their relationship, Betty and Jughead had only been physically intimate for a short time, but they were young and in love. For the first month after they slept together, they couldn’t get enough. Their desire was ravenous. Whenever they were alone, even if only for a few moments, their hands and mouths would run with a mind of their own, clothes left on the floor of whichever bedroom, or sometimes on the cement floor of the bunker in the woods.

 But recently, between everything that had seemed to happen one right after the other, what with the investigating the Gargoyle King and the shady antics of The Farm in tandem, sex wasn’t exactly at the top of the priorities list.

 It had been a while.

 To be precise, two weeks and three days. Not that Betty was counting.

 Before Jughead, Betty had never considered herself a very sexual person. Sure, like any other teenager, there’d been times, often dictated by what time of the month it was, where she’d had bouts of good old fashioned hormonal arousal. But it was always easily resolved with about ten-to-fifteen minutes of some good music playing in her earbuds, wandering fingers and soft sighs muffled by her floral pillow. Quiet, easy, efficient.

 But since being with Jughead, she couldn’t…..well she couldn’t really come by herself anymore. Everytime she tried to masturbate, her thoughts would always wander to him, and suddenly her soft, slender fingers weren’t enough compared to his calloused strong ones, or his tongue, or him inside her, and it only left her feeling more frustrated than before.

 She groans, and his eyes flick up to meet hers. “Everything okay, Betty?”

 She nods, getting up and stretching before making her way over to where he’s sitting, looking over his shoulder at the screen. It’s more instances of strange disappearances in the area and Reddit pages about local G&G campaigns, looking for correlations.

 “Any luck?” she asks, a hand falling to rest casually on his upper back.

 “Nada,” he says, pushing back and rubbing his eyes. “I think I’ve been staring at this screen too long. Wanna go to Pop’s? Milkshake’s on m-      mph.    ”

 He doesn’t finish his sentence before her mouth lands on his, swallowing his words with a hungry kiss. Without breaking, he turns in the swivel chair he’s sitting on and she climbs into his lap, so she’s straddling his thighs. His hands fall to the small of her back, leaning forward, bowing her into the kiss as he deepens it, slipping his tongue through her parted lips. She pushes back, teeth nipping at his as she tugs at his inky locks before moving her hands to his shoulders, pressing him into the back of his chair as her fingers slip under the leather of his jacket. He slides his up the tops of her thighs where her pencil skirt has ridden up. When he gets up to where her lacy black panties are exposed, he ghosts his thumb over her slit through the material, and she shudders.

 “Jug,” she arches into his touch, and he begins to place kisses and nips along the column of her throat. “Jug, please…” she grinds into him. “Want you.”

 “Here?” he asks, an eyebrow arching as he looks at her, but he moves his thumb more intentionally now, rubbing slow circles around her clit over the lace.

 “God, yes,” she breathes. “I want you, right here, right now.”

 “Then I’m yours,” he says, and she smiles at him, a wicked gleam in her eye as she tugs on his hair again, harder, yanking his head back so that his neck is exposed. He chuckles at her enthusiasm and she leans in close, fist still closed around his locks, muttering “Quiet, Jones,” her throat thick with a familiar, almost violent kind of need that she channels only into him, before attacking his throat with her mouth. She spends some time placing kisses and bites, and once she’s satisfied with the hickey she’s left just above his collarbone, she brings her lips back to his, and he slips his hand into the lace, fingers finding their way right where she needs them.

 Normally she wouldn’t let him touch her just yet, she’d tease him until he was just as needy as she was, but it’s been too long, and she’s too frantic. Instead she mewls as she rocks her hips into his touch, his calloused fingers rubbing against her clit, having mastered just the exact pressure and speed she needs, and by the time his fingers find their way inside, curling inward, she’s panting, teeth sinking into the leather on his shoulder to keep from crying out too loud.

 She’s chanting his name and curses and Jughead knows he has her where he wants her. “Go ahead, Betts, come for me,” and she does, her walls clenching around his fingers as she rides out her orgasm against him.

 “Oh my god, Juggie,” she moans, her lips finding their way back to his again, this time moving lazily against his, tired from the orgasm she so desperately craved. She steps away, briefly, only to shimmy out of her panties. He watches her with dark eyes, admiring the way her ponytail is disheveled, her skirt bunched around her waist and her blouse undone to reveal her cleavage spilling over a pink polka dot bra he’s seen many times before. She shakes her hair free of it’s elastic before straddling him again, this time resting lower on his thighs, closer to where his knees are bent. “We should keep most of our clothes on, she says as she begins to palm him through jeans, “just in case someone walks in.”

 He nods in in agreement and as she unbuckles his belt, undoing the button and pulling his almost painfully hard erection. She runs her hand across her tongue, wetting it with her saliva before closing it around his cock, pumping a few times.

 “Nice and hard for me?” she asks, a seductive smirk threatening at her lips.

 “You’re always so nice and wet for me,” he quips, squeezing her thigh. “Least I can do is return the favor.”

 “Protection?” she asks, and he reaches into his pocket, producing a square packet. She chuckles darkly as the rolls the condom onto his erection. “Good boy.”

 He holds himself steady at her entrance and she sinks down onto him, slowly as her eager slickness will allow, and relishes in the way he breathes her name, low and raspy. The sounds he makes, she decides, is probably her favorite part of sex, perhaps even over the sensation of him inside her. The only competition is maybe his mouth, when it’s hot and open, buried between her thighs.

 “Jesus Christ,      Betty    ,” he moans headily and she slips her hands up his t-shirt (his Serpents jacket long discarded) and braces her herself against his the muscles of his chest as she moves her hips up and down, setting the moderately paced but hard rhythm she knows he likes best.

 “You feel so good, Jughead,” he sighs. “It’s been too long.”

     “Way too long,”     he echoes, dipping his head down to her chest where’s he’s pulled one of her peaked nipples out of her bra. His lips close around it and she mewls, back arching, pressing her chest into his mouth. He begins thrusting his hips up to meet hers, a little bit rougher than she was being with him, and she cries out almost a little too loudly. He grabs the ends of her hair and pulls harshly, earning a squeak from Betty. Something in the air shifts, and Betty knows exactly what’s coming, her eyes dark with lust as she grins at him.

 He pulls himself out of her, standing both of them up and yanking her blouse from her shoulders before whipping her around harshly, and bending her over the desk he was just working on. He pushes himself back inside her roughly, but she’s so wet that he slips right in. He pulls himself out about halfway before ramming himself back in, and she yelps. He leans forward, wrapping a hand around to cover her mouth, squeezing against her cheeks and she smiles into his hand.

 She feels his lips as he leaves soft kisses on the back of her neck and in her hair, murmuring “I love you’s” against her skin. It’s a stark contrast to his deep and rough thrusts into her, and it’s a perfect balance between      fucking    and      making love     that only Jughead seems to pull off. When he feels her start to clench around him, he flips her over again, so her back is resting against the oak wood, and drops a hand down to where they are joined, rubbing harshly over her oversensitized and swollen clit, and it only takes a minute or two until she’s coming, her walls clenching around him, varied curses falling from her lips.

 Jughead watches her intently as she rides out her orgasm, the way her face contorts in ways that would almost being ugly if they weren’t so fucking hot. He notices the reddish-pink flush that spreads from her cheeks down to the valley of her breasts, which bounce ever so slightly as he thrusts into her. It doesn’t take long for him to topple over the edge with her at the sight, and when he finishes, he places a long, sweet kiss against her lips, and sits her up, pulling her into his embrace.

 Betty can’t imagine how sex was ever satisfying before she discovered how much she liked the thrill of power exchange. They were so good together too; they both knew exactly when to submit, when to dominate, how much to give and when to take, both within and outside of the sexual aspects of their relationship. She thinks back to the first couple of times they’d had sex before that fateful night at the Lodges’ cabin when she “punished” him for kissing Veronica.

 There weren’t many, maybe four or five separate occasions that were more or less vanilla. There were awkward fumbles as they tried to figure out the most comfortable way to go about penetration for Betty, and it wasn’t until the third time that Jughead was able to actually get her off, but that was mostly the fault of her own nerves. They weren’t exactly mind-blowing sexual rendezvous, but they were special in their own right. And somehow, when Jughead looks at her with that adorably sleepy post-sex smile, she still gets a million butterflies in her stomach like it’s the first time.

 “I love you,” she tells him.

 “I love you, too,” he replies, fingers tracing light circles against her back.

 After a few moments of silence, he pulls away to dispose of the condom and on the way back hands her her blouse, which she gladly accepts, putting it on and doing up the buttons.

 “So…” she says, a playful grin ghosting her lips as she pulls her underwear back on. “You said something about a milkshake?”

[devnicolee]

The Beginning

A/N: Just some random fluff on how this couple finally got together. This started as a flashback in one of the chapters and became way too long haha

Word count: 3,197

Jabari summers were Zarah’s favorite part of the year. Though still relatively cold compared to the rest of Wakanda, the snow melted and gave way to lush green pastures, vibrant and colorful gardens, babbling streams and hiking trails ripe and ready for exploration. It was the perfect time for exploring all the hidden secrets of the mountains that everyone was forced to miss out on during the harsh winters.

And that’s what brought Zarah out to an old hiking trail in the mountains west of Gorilla City with her friend. He had shown up at her parent’s cottage earlier and demanded she accompany him on a ride because he found "the best view of Wakanda yet". He did a lot of demanding and usually got his way, a perk of being chief. 

She wondered if there was an ulterior motive to this excursion. After all, everyone knew that the best view in Jabariland was on Gorilla Mount, right next to the Great Lodge. But still, Zarah indulged him as it allowed her some quality time with him and gave her an excuse to escape her parents for a little while. There was a comfortable silence over the pair as they rode leisurely. They were just happy to be together, listening to the thuds of their horses hooves, the quiet jitters throughout the trees, and the occasional chirps from the birds flying above them.

"How is home little one?"

Her face fell into a scowl at the question and his pet name for her. One, she hated that nickname (and he knew it) and two, he knew how home was. Home was how it always had been. "The usual." She knew the answer didn’t satisfy her riding companion when she received a grunt and a hard glare in response, both demanding the full truth. She bristled at how M’Baku saw through her facades. "Well… you know N’Danna is away at training. So it has gotten worse without him there to play referee. Apparently someone at the council meeting asked why I hadn’t settled down yet, haven’t been courted by the other councilmembers’ sons or your brothers. ‘So many potential suitors,’ they said, and I am ‘wasting my time and youth’" she emphasized with air quotes."Mother and father have been on the warpath ever since, saying I am spoiling their efforts to find me a suitable husband." "Why didn’t you say anything? I could have made some excuse for you to come to the Lodge or we could have gone camping?" He knew how Zarah got after her parents attacked her, despondent and distant. She took their words to heart, desperately wanting them to be proud of her and as her friend, it was difficult to watch her struggle to meet their insane expectations. Their words would take root, branching out inside her mind until there was no longer room for her to feel anything else. It could take days for those branches to break and allow her usual energetic personality to seep back in.

Zarah sighed, shifting in her saddle slightly, running her fingers through her horse’s mocha-colored mane. She appreciated his willingness to step in when N'Danna wasn’t there to do so but he couldn’t stop them, no one could. She tried very hard not to let their words get to her, not allow them to affect her, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to believe they meant well but it didn’t stop them acting as a toxic force in her life. Zarah was emotionally drained after being criticized nonstop. Home felt like more of a battlefield than anything else, constantly trying to dodge a new arrow or the swing of a knobkerrie. By the end of the battle, Zarah dodge little and was left with nothing but new wounds to clean and heal by herself. If it didn’t advance their standing in the tribe, it was wrong. If it didn’t align with the carefully planned life they outlined for her, it wasn’t acceptable. If it didn’t meet their ever-changing expectations, she failed them. No matter how fast Zarah raced to get to the finish line and make them proud of her, she always fell short. Never making it because the line was unattainable or because they moved it just as she got within reach. All she desired… all she craved was love and validation, instead she got the harsh lesson that even the purest of love was conditional and will be ripped from your hands the moment you fail. "That is sweet of you, M’Baku. But putting it off does not halt the inevitable. If it wasn’t today, it would have been tomorrow. It wasn’t so bad I suppose. Just the usual stuff. ‘How can any suitor be interested in you? Not pretty enough, not invested enough in your appearance, too obsessed with useless work,’ she mimicked her mother’s voice bitterly. "Still upset that M’Cebo hasn’t tried to court me yet, as if I have any control over that." "I don’t know why they are so keen on you marrying my brother anyway. He is awful," M’Baku grumbled , unable to hide the frustration in his tone. Zarah laughed. It was no secret the two royal brothers did not get along. And it was no secret why, M’Cebo was a royal ass, he was arrogant and entitled, believing that everyone was beneath him simply because he bore Jabari Royal symbols on his armor. Many wanted M’Baku to exile him once he became Chief, to just be done with him. But M’Baku believed in the power of family and until he had an heir, M’Cebo was his successor, which meant he had to stay. But to Zarah’s parents, who didn’t much care about the character of the man their daughter married, successor was better than another elder’s son so he was the best choice for Zarah. "M’Cebo is my age… next in line for the throne, a warrior. He is no chief but he is next in line. So in their eyes, he is a step up the social ladder," she mused. "Well if a chief is all you require, I happen to know one,” he offered. Zarah laughed, thinking he was joking. But if her eyes hadn’t been trained on the dirt path in front of them, she would have seen the seriousness in his. This was far from a joke from him. "Yea right… The elders are already forming a list of suitable women for you to marry and I am surely not on it," she laughed. "You are Chief M’Baku, you can’t marry just anybody. You have the most beautiful and brightest women in the tribe after you. You can’t settle." Hurt flashed across his face at that. How could she think that being with her was settling? Truth be told, Zarah was among the most beautiful and brightest his tribe had to offer. She was the runt of the tribe, barely hit his torso. But she was gorgeous with a body hand-crafted by Hanuman.He always had to catch himself, afraid of being caught staring at her perfect hourglass shape. And she was a genius. Very few in the tribe had a knack for engineering and an understanding of Jabari wood like Zarah. Everyone thought so. Well, everyone except her and her parents. What was there not to love about her? He didn’t understand how a genius like her could be this clueless. But before he could press the issue further, they had arrived. M’Baku had come earlier and set out a small picnic right on a small secluded cliff, equipped with her favorite fruits and sweets from the Lodge bakery. "This is too much M’Baku. You said we were just going on a ride,” she accused as she dismounted her horse and tied her to the nearest tree. M’Baku’s hand encompassed hers as he led her over to the blanket. Zarah felt warmth spread through her body at the physical contact. "I just wanted to do something nice for you. You do so much for everyone else. And after the last few days, now I hope it will lift your spirits a bit," he said as they sat. Her heart fluttered at his compassion. He was right, she needed this. "Well, thank you. It’s all too much but it is appreciated. And you were right. This view is quite lovely," she remarked. The mountain provided a view of everything - the villages in the valleys, the Lodge on Gorilla Mount. And in the distance, Zarah could see the waterfalls that marked the end of greater Wakanda and flowed into Jabariland, and the Great Mound. A small smile of contentment graced her features, the first real smile she had in days. Wakanda never ceased to amaze her or failed to lift her spirits when needed. If only I could stay here, away from everyone forever, she thought. "You haven’t even seen it at its prime. Just wait until sunset in an hour or so. You will be stunned." Zarah leaned back and snuck a few glances at M’Baku’s profile and the look of pure contentment on his face broadened her smile. This was the most relaxed she had seen him in a while. These were the moments she loved, that sustained her through the tough days. But they were also bittersweet, reminding her of the desire bubbling beneath the surface every time she was with him. The love she held for him caused her physical pain sometimes. Zarah knew never to act on it- she wasn’t good enough for him. She always told herself that there was no way her feelings would be reciprocated. What would a man as amazing and strong as M’Baku want with a woman like me? But still, even knowing that they could never be did not stop Zarah’s heart from fluttering with every touch or kind word. It didn’t diminish the heat in her womanhood when she saw him sitting with the air of a king on his throne or training shirtless with the soldiers. It didn’t weaken her desire to spend time with him or dampen the pang of sadness when he had to leave. She didn’t mean to fall for him, she wasn’t even sure when it happened. But it did and it was the sweetest, cruelest form of torture Hanuman or any God could have conjured up for her.

"Zarah, could I ask you a question?" Her eyebrows furrowed slightly at his formalities. "Of course. What is it?" "Have you ever been in love?" She choked slightly on her glass of mead at the question, sending Zarah into a coughing fit. M’Baku patted her back forcefully to help her clear her air passage. What was this man? A mind reader? She thought to herself. After taking a few moments to recover, she looked off at the horizon as she contemplated what to say. Zarah knew she couldn’t tell him the truth buts he could omit. "Well, yes… I’ve been in love, or maybe still am? Not sure it goes away. He doesn’t share my feelings unfortunately. That’s the trouble with falling in love I think. You don’t know if the person feels the same until it’s too late sometimes. You are already head over heels. Why do you ask?" He continued to stare at the horizon. "I am in love with this girl and I am not sure how to make the first move. I am worried she will say no. How did you approach that guy?" Jealousy blooming in his stomach at her holding affections for another, just as it did every time she mentioned his brother or any other man. They didn’t deserve her. Zarah let out a real belly laugh at that ludicrous statement. "What woman in her right mind would reject you Baku? Just put yourself out there… women love that. And besides, she would be a fool to say no. But I know that is easier said than done. I didn’t actually ask him. I just know he could never see me… love me that way. No one could," The last statement was quiet, more to herself than the man sitting beside her. But he still heard it.   "Is that what you really think? That no one could love you?" Zarah could hear the disappointment in his voice, like her lack of self-esteem was a physical wound to his body. Zarah scoffed. "Who loves me Bak? Aside from N’Danna of course... Certainly no one romantically. I can’t even make my own parents proud of me. Hell, I am not even sure they love me. How could someone else? Why would someone else?" Zarah suddenly realized she said too much, feeling too exposed and vulnerable. She didn’t like putting those thoughts to words. Hearing them leave her lips made them too real. She quickly decided that this wasn’t a rabbit hole she felt like spiraling into while they were having such a good time. "I am sorry Bak. I shouldn’t have burdened you with my troubles. They are my crosses to bare. I am supposed to be helping you with your problem. Maybe we can think of a grand gesture to help you woo this mystery girl, I can’t believe you never mentioned her to me," Zarah ranted. She didn’t realize that M’Baku wasn’t really listening to her, noting her attempt to change the subject. He wished she had said more, secretly pleased at her vulnerability. Moments like that were rare with her so when he could get one, it felt like a win in his book. He understood why. He saw firsthand how cold and callous her parents were with her. His heart did ache at how little she thought of herself. If she only knew how in love he was with her, that his world rose and set with her in mind, and that the meaning of this little excursion was not to show her a view but a grand gesture to finally declare his affections for her (after years of subtle hints). No, Zarah didn’t know any of that, she just knew what a lifetime of self-deprecation had taught her - men like M’Baku don’t fall for women like her. "Entle. Look at me." Enough was enough, he thought to himself, figuratively throwing his original plan and prewritten speech over the side of this mountain. No more subtle hints, no more flirting or wasting time. He was going to make his feelings plain to the lovable but clueless love of his life right here and right now. Zarah’s eyes didn’t shift from the village as she absentmindedly watched Jabari the size of ants walking across the bridges that connected the mountains together. After a few moments, she felt his hand gently grasp her chin and force her eyes to meet his. "Sithandwa sam… I- m- I wish you saw yourself as I see you. The most beautiful and talented woman this tribe has been blessed with. Your mind as brilliant as your heart is pure. My soul aches that your world is filled with people who are motivated by the worst intentions. People who try to dim the bright light inside you with vicious words. You deserve better. You deserve someone who truly sees you for the light you are. And this is partially my fault because… I have been afraid for so many years. But the truth is, you are the one I am in love with and a-a-and I should have told you that years ago. I should have told you that I can’t live without you. But I was afraid of losing you as a friend but friendship isn’t enough for me anymore." Zarah was rendered speechless, her mind moving far faster than her lips could ever maintain. But M’Baku didn’t give her a chance to even voice a response before his hand slide from her chin to her neck and pulled her close. "M’Bak…" she whimpered right before their lips touched. The kiss held a gentleness that seemed out of character for a man of his status and stature. She was hesitant at first, still surprised by his admission. But after a few moments of feeling his lips on hers, she couldn’t deny that she needed this, desired it more than anything. It was intimate, filled with intense longing and passion. This kiss was over a decade in the making and each party seemed determined to make up for lost time. M’Baku’s hands slid down her back to pull her closer. Before she knew it, she was in his lap, legs straddled around him. Both of their hands began to roam and explore the other’s body as they kissed. His hands slid down from her waist, gripping her thighs, kneading them softly. She moaned into his lips, her mind in a frenzy of desire as he set off a fire in her. Her hands acted off that feeling, working far ahead of her logical brain and started to fumble with the clasps on his jacket. She was in a race to undress him before Zarah could mentally comprehend what winning that race would mean. She didn’t get far before his hands grabbed hers and stopped her movements. There was a moment as they both caught their breath. As her lungs filled themselves with air, her body filled with embarrassment that she let her desires run out of control. "I am s-s-sorry. I d-d-don’t know what came ov-"

"Stop talking," He barked causing her jaw to clamp shut. “Don’t apologize to me. That was amazing. Everything I wanted."

Zarah looked up at him with confused eyes. "Then why did youstop me? You want me yes? I thought that meant... physically." If she were a few shades lighter, M’Baku would have seen how much she blushed at the idea of being intimate with him. He chuckled, shaking his head at her. "Of course, I want you Za… Believe me, I desire you more than anything. But your first time… our first time…shouldn’t be outside and in public. I want to court you and when you are ready, have every part of you. But only when you are ready. Understand?"

Zarah let out a sigh of relief, "Yes… sorry. So are we really doing this? You, the chief, want to date me?"

His fingers pushed a few loose twists out of face before recapturing her lips for a softer, quick kiss. "Yes, yes I do. And soon, you will become the greatest Chieftess this tribe has ever seen."

****

@destinio1 @muse-of-mbaku @great-neckpectations @missmohnique @dawva @jellybean531

[quillsareswords]

Blackmark

Damian Wayne (fluff)

Requested (anonymous)

Soulmate AU of my choice. Soulmates have a tattoo of the other's favorite interest/hobby/activity, but until you meet, it's only a black outline. (Photographer Reader)

Happy Valentine's Day!! ❤️

Prompt List // Masterlist (linked in bio)

You stared down at the mark on your wrist curiously. Your eyes wandered over to the stranger sitting beside you, who's mark was just as visible as yours.

His too was a blank black shape, and not as obvious as yours. His could have been any number of objects, while the black mark on your wrist was quite obviously a domino mask, identical to that of nearly every hero in the city.

You pulled your jacket sleeve back down before anyone could catch it. Usually you would cover it with makeup or bracelets, but it was Saturday morning, and you were only going to your best friend's house.

When the bus chimed and the doors opened, you picked up your duffel from between your feet and started up the sidewalk. Alfred was to meet you by the bank, because he had an errand to run anyway.

You stuffed your free hand into your pocket as you rounded the corner, spotting the sleek black Lincoln parked across the street. Alfred climbed out to open your door as you dashed across the temporarily empty street.

"Good morning, Miss [Y/N]," he greeted as you slid inside, tossing your bag to the floor.

"Morning. Thanks for picking me up."

Your parents were out of town for a few days, so Damian had offered to let you stay at the Manor while they were away, knowing you didn't like being alone in the apartment for so long.

"It's always a pleasure," he assured, pulling away from the curb to join the traffic passing by.

On the way to the outskirts of Gotham, you couldn't help but wonder what Alfred's blackmark looked like. Was it colored? What was it? Who was it?

You knew better than to ask, so you remained quiet as the vehicle began it's climb up the tall hill.

Damian was waiting for you inside, sitting patiently on the fourth step on the curved staircase leading to the second story.

"[Y/N]," he greeted, standing. He didn't smile, but then again, he didn't usually.

You did, though. "Hey, Dame."

Your greetings were always short and to the point, without the often awkward pause between "welcome" and "let's do something". You followed him up the steps to the room you always stayed in when you came — the one right next to his, adjacent to his balcony.

He settled himself on your freshly made bed, behind the black bag you'd slung up there and the camera you'd set beside it. You'd be here for the remainder of the weekend and the coming week, so you unzipped the top of your bag and started setting things out on the bed.

Damian had been holding a book, but it had been forgotten in favor of you, tossed absently on the edge of the mattress. He rolled to lay on his back, watching you drop shirts and pants and socks and jewelery on the king-size mattress next to his legs. "What shall we do with the rest of the day?"

You cast a glance toward the clock above the door. Four hours until sundown. "I don't know. What's going on around here?"

"Drake has been working a project. He's likely still exactly wher I left him this morning," he answered, taking hold of the water bottle you had left on the bed. He started tossing it up in the air, catching it, and repeating.

You finished setting out your stuff, turning to walk to the dresser, a load of clothes in your arms. "Should we mess with him?" You pulled the top drawer open with your fingertips, dropping your shirts inside. "Or is he running on fumes and too sleep deprived to react?"

He paused, before tossing the water bottle again. "Father wouldn't be pleased. It's part of his schooling."

You nodded. "Do you wanna do the thing to Bruce's office again?" You walked back to the bed, scooping up your jeans and leggings.

Again he paused, but this time he rolled over. "I like that idea."

~

An hour later, you stood in the middle of Bruce Wayne's office, your face red from the physical activity produced heat, your hands set on your hips.

Damian stood opposite of desk, his stance similar to yours. "Ready?"

You nodded, crouching down to hook your fingers around the bottom of the reinforced desk. You lifted at the same time as him, pulling it back only a few inches. You let it go and stood back up, huffing.

You weren't as strong as Damian, but hours spent sparing with him when his brothers were busy had made you stronger than most civilian girls your age.

Damian looked over the rest of the room. Everything had been shifted just slightly to the right. Well, almost everything.

"Chair time," you mumbled, walking over to stand behind the chair. It was thankful on wheels, so you only had to push it along the rug.

Finally, you were done. Proudly, you crossed the room to stand by the door and admire your handiwork. You picked up your camera from the table you'd set it on, back up to stand in the doorway.

You'd done this three times before, shifting everything just a little farther every time. First it was an inch, then Bruce fixed it. Then it was an inch and a half, then Bruce fixed it. This time, it had been two and a half inches.

Unfortunately, you'd miscalculated where the rug was, and your foot caught, sending you and your camera tumbling backward with a surprised cry.

Damian acted quickly, jumping forward, barely catching you by your wrist, and your camera by the strap.

He helped you right yourself, still holding your camera in his other hand.

You thanked him with a quiet laugh, reaching for your camera. No sooner had your fingertips brushed the grip, than Damian practically jumped away. You looked at him confusedly, a half smile playing across your face. You assumed he had decided to play a game of Keep Away, but the pale, frightened look on his face told another story.

"What?"

He didn't say anything for a long minute, his wife eyes locked with yours. Finally, he pointed down at your arm. "Your wrist."

Your eyebrows furrowed together, eyes jumping down to the sleeve of your sweatshirt. You hiked the material up to the middle of your forearm, wondering if you'd cut yourself on something, and why Damian was reacting like some kind of Vampire.

This is where you stop. You stop, and your world starts spinning. You feel light headed and dizzy, like you could throw up or fly all at the same time, because the sharp, black domino mask stamped across your wrist was no longer black, but a dark green.

You clamped your opposite hand over your mouth, your knees suddenly falling victim to an earthquake the rest of you was unaware was happening.

Your eyes jumped from him to the mark and back again for a long, long minute. You mouth wouldn't work and your mind was racing. "What is- I don't-"

"That's my mask," he suddenly stated, sending you spiraling even further. He sounded distant, as if he was speaking to himself rather than you. "That's my mask."

"What?" You were still having trouble wrapping your head around the fact that you had found your soulmate, let alone the fact that your best friend was basically admitting that he is Robin.

Before you could get anything else out, he was rapidly working his sleeve up past his elbow.

Right below the bend if his elbow, a blank black square took up residents. "Touch it," he ordered.

Your hands were shaking. You stared blankly at him. He repeated himself, and it seemed to hit you this time. You took your hand from your mouth, pressing three of your fingers to the black square.

Beneath your fingertips, shades of blue, green, and white rolled and twisted, curling into sharp shapes, only halting at the edge of the sharp square.

When all was settled and the colors stilled, you were shocked. "That's my picture," you stated blankly. "I took it when we went camping two weeks ago."

He remembered. The photo boasted a gorgeous scene: beautifully still waters, gracefully mirroring the tall pines trees bordering the lake. The campsite you shared with he and the rest of his family stood behind you, out of frame.

What you had failed to capture was the sight of you excited racing back to he and Dick's tent, happily shouting his name all the way.

He vividly remembered telling you that it was his favorite picture of yours.

It was here that the full weight of today settled across your shoulders. You raised your wrist to sit level with his elbow. "This is Robin's mask." He bit his lip. "You just said that it's your mask."

(If you really want a continuation, don't be shy to let me know, and send an ask!)