#and I just want to gush at how stunningly beautiful she is

[teafiend]

The emotionally hard-hitting Episode 5. Another favourite episode to feed this Kang Gil Young fangirl. So gorgeous in her light denim jacket assemble too ❤️‍🔥💙🩵🖤🩶

(GIFs from @Nungchae, Twitter/X)

[smutoperator]

Love In An Elevator

Jo Hyewon (Zoa) x Male Reader

Tags: big tits, DSLs, elevator sex, facefucking, facial, fast-paced blowjob, first date, girlfriend, high-intensity sex, jerking off, long legs, pussy eating, restaurant, (lots of) riding, (lots of) spitting, teen, titfucking, visual

Word count: 4924

Zoa is a hidden gem. Her visuals are stunning. Beautiful deer-esque face, long legs, big and ripe boobs—she's got everything. You couldn't believe it when she accepted your proposal to date her. There might be idols who are more famous than her, but to you, she was the prettiest, without question.

You took Zoa to your favorite top-rated restaurant on your first date, wanting to impress her. Zoa gushed at your proposal, feeling really lucky she got to have a boyfriend who would take her to the best places and enjoy experiences she thought she never would.

When Zoa was eating, you couldn't stop staring at her; she was just so stunningly beautiful that she demanded all of your attention at all times. But one part of her body caught your attention the most: her big and ripe boobs under her white shirt, which made it very easy for you to see. Zoa may be just an 18-year-old teenager, but her mature personality also shows off in her sexy body, with her already having the features of a fully grown adult woman. And to you, none were more noticeable than her tits.

"Let's share this moment," Zoa said, running towards the restaurant's elevator to take a picture of herself. After she was done, she sent you the selfie. You were disappointed you couldn't see her striking face, covered by her phone, but the other parts of her body looked better than ever, as you drooled over how her navel was popping out just above her jeans and how long her legs were as she took a full-body shot at the elevator. You still couldn't believe this girl was your girlfriend; she just looks so pretty. You, for sure, would go to all lengths for her. Zoa is really that girl.

After you paid both their restaurant bills, you two entered the elevator, where she had just shared her picture, and left the restaurant. "What did you think of today's date, Zoa?" you asked her. "It was really great; I feel so overwhelmed by the way you were so kind to me and treated me like a princess," she replied. "Well, you are indeed a princess and the most beautiful woman in the whole world," you complimented her.

The elevator door closed as the machine started to go up, and you two continued to chat. The way Zoa laughed caught your attention the most; she truly had the cutest laugh you had ever heard. However, the happy mood between both of you was about to change in a hurry, as the elevator lights started to falter and suddenly the machine came to a halt.

"I'm scared," Zoa told you, as the elevator was now stuck and only the emergency lights were working. "Don't be; we'll be out of here soon," you said, trying to calm her. "I hope so; I don't like being trapped with nowhere to go," Zoa said. "I'll make sure this will go by quickly," you told her.

Easier said than done; you guys had been trapped for a while in the elevator after you said those words. The once calm and collected Zoa was starting to lose her cool, and you were running out of ways to keep your girlfriend calm. The hugs and kisses you gave her just didn't work anymore, and you could see the first tears forming in her eyes. You needed something better.

"It's getting really hot inside here; I'm starting to have a panic attack," Zoa told you. These words set your alarm bell off. You had to act quickly. At the same time, Zoa looked hotter than ever in that white shirt and jeans. But if she was feeling so much heat, you had found a solution to cool her down.

You took Zoa's jeans off, leading her at first to instantly react and cover her beautiful legs. "What are you doing, baby?" she asked. "You said it was getting too hot, so I'm helping you," you told her as you also started taking your shirt off. Zoa provided a helpful hand, and soon you were naked from the torso up while she was from her legs down.

You kept advancing on Zoa's tall, sexy body, aiming next at the spot that had taken most of your attention at the restaurant: her big and still-growing tits, sucking the area around them with her clothes still on. Meanwhile, you reached into her lower backside, running your hands all over her ass and taking her panties off. Your bulging erection under your pants was already touching the entrance of her pussy, making her moan for the first time.

More kisses ensued before you lifted Zoa's shirt slightly up, unveling her sexy belly button as you started fingering your hands all over her young pussy. With just a couple fingers inside, you were impressed by how warm and tight her hole was. You two kept kissing each other as you kept running your left hand in her legs and pussy, while she placed her right hand straight at your already throbbing boner.

Zoa increased her soft and angelic moans as you inserted a third finger in her vagina, getting louder as you started going up and down her tight pussy with them. Her legs closed around them, and she started sweating a little before you took them off her hole.

Next, you took Zoa's white shirt off, with her already unhooking her bra for you to get easier access to her big, young tits. Zoa may be the one called the giant baby, but you were the one acting like a baby, sucking her milkers in a way you had never done to your mother's. You had never seen such firm and ripe boobs like hers; truly, there isn't a single part of Zoa's body that isn't visually striking.

You kept bombarding Zoa's right boob with suckings and kisses while running your hands all over her left tit before pinning her against the elevator wall and groping both of them, leading to her giving you the biggest smile since you two had started dating. Zoa was now completely naked and submissive to you; her natural body was beautiful from head to toe, with no flaws whatsoever.

As Zoa's nipples got erect from your stimulation, you moved down her hot body, exploiting other areas. At first, you sucked the bottom of her boobs before giving a long lick between them, starting all the way down her navel and going all the way up her chest. You repeated this move multiple times, each time getting longer until you licked her from her pussy up to her mouth. Zoa being roughly the same height as you helped a lot, as once you were finished, you just needed to go down a little bit to suck her perky tits once more.

You go on your knees as Zoa spreads her left leg and her toe on the opposite wall of the elevator, while her hands hold the support with all her might as you start eating her out. After your fingers, it's your tongue that gets to know how warm Zoa's pussy is, with her enjoying every second of it as her moans get more and more frequent. 

You run your tongue all over Zoa's pink teen pussy, exploiting her folds to the fullest. You start wondering which lips are better, the ones in her mouth or the ones between her legs, as you worship her pussy and move your tongue faster and faster over it. Zoa gets overwhelmed by the speed at which you eat her folds out, turning herself into a moaning machine as you keep going on.

You start making different moves all over Zoa's pussy, kissing it and spitting on it as well. But as she gets wetter inside, your urge to fuck her pussy grows. But first, you go back to do so with your fingers, making her squirt her teen juices all over them. "Oh Shit," Zoa curses and finally says something. As you simultaneously tongue her clit while penetrating her, her moans get louder, and she almost loses her balance. Sensing she is getting wetter and warmer, you increase the pace of your finger-fucking, pushing your beautiful girlfriend to the limit.

"Fuck. AHHHHH!" Zoa screams as you go full-speed with both your hands and mouth. Her pink pussy had never been stimulated like this before, as she has to use all her strength in that confined space she finds herself in not to fall down. But you don't stop, twisting your fingers inside Zoa's pussy and keeping an eye out for different angles to attack her warm hole before pulling out and going all-in with your mouth as you grab her legs and pin her down even further against the elevator wall.

You reach for Zoa's left boob as you keep eating her out. Her soft milkers are perfect for getting groped and honked hard, and her nipples are harder than ever. "Please, please," Zoa begs as you show no signs of slowing down, worshipping her hot body and especially her warm pussy. 

"Yes, oh fuck," Zoa says as you move your fingers back inside her pussy, which is now a dripping wet mess. "Yes, keep going," she continues as she closes her eyes, her athletic figure trembling as you put her close to cum with just your hands and mouth. "Oh my God, shit" she continues as you finger-fuck her faster than ever, panting and moaning and grabbing her boobs, just trying to survive your early attacks.

You kiss and worship Zoa's perfect pussy, now also fondling her tits at the same time, paying extra attention to her nipples as you touch them nonstop. You then attack her clit with your tongue, challenging Zoa to stay with her leg up as you see her body shaking harder than ever. Zoa tries not to lose her breath, her body aching with pleasure at each tonguing you give her. But she can't last for long, as you go back with all your four fingers inside her, twisting them all over her pussy and finally making her cum for good.

As Zoa releases her juices out of her pussy, you worship it with tons of kisses, then move up her body to lick her fit belly, giving special attention to her navel. As you fully get up to kiss her and grope her big tits, Zoa starts unhooking your belt and taking more initiative, quickly unleashing your big cock out of your pants.

Zoa gets on her knees and furiously sucks your dick. You can tell she's not that experienced, going very aggressive on your shaft and popping it in and out of her mouth. But that's not important to you, as her mouth is even warmer than her pussy and watching that doe-eyed deer with those amazing dick sucking lips work on that prick is extremely hot. Zoa keeps licking your shaft and sucking your tip hard, her lips fully wrapped around your pole as her head starts bobbing. "Keep sucking it, keep sucking it," you tell her as she looks up and gives you a naughty stare and jerks your shaft, driving you insane with her speed. She puts just the tip inside her mouth, but that's enough to send shivers down your spine.

Zoa gets sloppier and bobs her head deeper against your cock. "Oh yes." You approve of her blowjob skills just as she gags and opens her big eyes, spitting on that dick shortly after. Her fast-paced work on your cock continues as she jerks it off frenetically before using her mouth to warm your shaft up, bobbing hard as one of her hands grabs your thighs and the other grabs your balls.

As Zoa gags on your cock, a string of saliva connects her DSLs to your throbbing tip. Your relief is short as she goes back to attack, doing to your cock what you did to her pussy: licking, sucking, throating, spitting, and using every move she knows. It's even better when she does all that with her big eyes wide open, staring at you, as you can watch her sexy empressions while sucking you off.

You can't resist for long, grabbing Zoa's head to start fucking her face as your cock rips through her DSLs, tying her hair up with your own hands to see more of her beautiful face gagging on that dick and her doe eyes rolling out of pleasure. As soon as Zoa coughs on your cock, you rattle it inside her mouth, hitting her warm walls left and right before she finally pulls out of it and gives a massive spit on your shaft, going back right after as you grab her hair and dunk her face against your balls multiple times, teaching her not to be such an aggressive cock-sucking whore as you spit in her mouth right after.

Zoa makes a mess out of your cock as the facefucking continues, her chin full of saliva that drips out of her mouth as she gets sloppier and sloppier and turns your dick into a wet mess of spit. Now it's your turn to get aggressive, as you grab her head hard and thrust inside her mouth as if you were pounding her pussy full speed, moving your hips at a fast pace as you place your right foot right at the elevator wall, and splitting her dick sucking lips open with no room for any air to enter her mouth.

After rattling your cock inside her mouth once more, you kiss Zoa passionately, tasting her sloppy and cock-flavored mouth to the fullest. Zoa kept jerking you off as you were doing it, and as soon as you pulled out of her mouth, she got back into her aggressive cock-sucking, trying to prove to you she could be your cute-looking, slutty girlfriend. "Holy shit," you said as Zoa engulfed your balls and took your cock full length in her mouth for a few seconds before her lack of experience did her in and made her gag and get out of breath. And every time she pulled out of your cock, she spat on it, quickly turning it into her signature move.

Zoa kept bobbing hard on your cock and filling it full of saliva. You couldn't complain, as you weren't going to need any lube to enter her tight, warm pussy soon after, just letting her do it as she pleased and getting your cock wet and sloppy. "Bad girl," you said as you got back to fuck her face, and once she gagged, you gave it a lot of slapping with your dick, showing her who was the real boss. "You really like to spit on that cock, don't you, you tall young whore?" you asked her, noticing how often she did it.

As Zoa got up, still jerking your cock off, you spat in her mouth. "You are getting too slutty for my liking," you poke at her, even though you really enjoyed it. "Now turn around," you say as you pin her against the elevator wall. Zoa knows what's coming, lifting her long left leg once again and placing her left foot and right hand on the elevator's handrail. In just a couple seconds, your wet cock easily slides inside her tight teen pussy. "Oh fuck, oh shit" Zoa says as she feels your shaft penetrating her.

Knowing she had already shown how much of a whore she is, you give Zoa no room to breathe, attacking her tight pussy hard from the start and kissing her as you pump her warm hole. "Ah, ah, ah, ah," Zoa softly moans as you turn her into your cocksleeve, fingering herself to get that extra pleasure, now holding both hands against the handrail to take the pounding you are giving her. "FUCK!" she screams as her cheeks start to clap and you grab her tiny waist for a better grip, manhandling her pussy full speed. "SHIT," she keeps screaming as you get addicted to her pussy and can't stop fucking her hard. Even though her insides are perfect, Zoa is truly a flawless woman, the daughter of Venus, the goddess of love.

Zoa has a hard time staying up in just one foot; you fuck her so hard she has to cling onto every support of the elevator, which itself starts to swing a little with the force of your rough poundings on her. "Yes, oh yes, oh yes," she says as you spank her ass and show no signs of slowing down. You had never fucked a girl on your first date, and the thought of fucking her in such an unconventional space turned you on a lot.

"Shit, you're fucking me so hard; don't stop," Zoa told you. And no, you were not going to stop. If it depended on you, that elevator would never go back to work again, and you'd just fuck Zoa to eternity. As you start groping her tits and add extra stimulation, Zoa spreads her cheeks to ease the pressure on her already tightening walls that you kept shaping to the format of your cock.

Zoa's left leg finally gives in as she places it back on the ground, giving you a better angle to grab her butt and hold it as you keep fucking her, now in a standing doggy position that made her look so submissive and slutty, as her vocabulary got reduced to just three words: fuck, shit, and yes.

You kept spreading Zoa's ass cheeks and pumping her warm pussy hard while also grabbing her hair and making those cheeks clap at each thrust, discovering how quickly a teen pussy can turn into an addiction that can make even the calmest men turn into raging animals who furiously pound them. Zoa gets firmly grabbed by the waist as you destroy her fuckhole nonstop, testing how hard this young whore could take your big cock fucking the shit out of her. Meanwhile, Zoa's big, ripe melons are now swinging hard, giving you the perfect opportunity to grope them and feel how hard they try to escape from your grasp every time you pound her.

Zoa regains her strength and lifts her leg up again, allowing your cock to penetrate her even easier. She gets very needy and clingy, turning her cute face in your direction and hugging you as you are still fucking her hard, looking for you to kiss her as much as you can. As much as Zoa may love your cock, she loves your touch and kisses even more, and she just wants to be a good girlfriend. And you give her what she wants: kisses up top, dick at the bottom, making the elevator make a lot of noise as you two hit its walls with your intense fucking.

As you're finally done pounding Zoa, she turns around and gives you a torrid kiss. "Am I a good girlfriend?" she ponders in her head. But you don't give her many seconds to think, instantly lifting her body up and pinning her back against the elevator's wall, forcing her to hold both hands hard into the handrail as you fuck her in a face-to-face position with both her feet up in the air.

"Oh yeah," Zoa says as she fingers her pussy and her feet reach the wall on the other side, landing close to the elevator's buttons. You truly couldn't do this position with a girl shorter than her, feeling blessed for Zoa being so tall and perfect for it.

"You don't get to have it so easy," you tell her, placing her right leg over your shoulder instead and pressing her even further against the wall, giving her a rough but very passionate missionary fucking that sends her over the moon, with Zoa giving you a kiss every time she's not moaning like a submissive slut. "AHHHHH!" Zoa's loud screams come along with the loud noises of her body banging against the elevator's wall as she gets ragdolled and enjoys it to the fullest.

It turns out such a position ends up being too demanding, not only for her but for you as well, as you get Zoa back on her feet and compensate her with another passionate kiss. This time, you let her fully spread her legs and hook them to opposite sides of the elevator, giving you the perfect view of her body, but especially her face, tits, pussy and thighs as you resume fucking her, now with one hand grabbing her head to kiss her and another groping her tits.

Zoa gets increasingly clingy, hugging you and pushing your body even closer to hers. She wants your touch, your cock, to be your cute girlfriend but also your slutty fucktoy. As the hard pounding finally starts to get you tired, you decide to try something different: lying on the elevator's floor as you look up at her goddess-esque tall body, sliding just under her long legs.

You don't even need to give a command; Zoa already knows what to do. She moves a couple steps and squats down your cock, letting herself get fully impaled. At first, you think of telling her to turn around to see her face as she rides you, but as soon as Zoa starts clapping those cheeks against your hips, you feel very appreciative of the back view she gives you, enjoying her beautiful long hair, her toned ass, and her sexy back to the fullest.

Zoa shows no mercy for your cock, riding it hard from the start. "OH MY GOD," she suddenly finds herself screaming, but doesn't slow down. She wants to prove to herself that she can tame any cock. Her moans get louder and screamier as you grind your teeth, trying to hold as hard as you can not to shoot inside her warm hole. Her tits get very bouncy, but you can't see them, and she uses the handrail to her advantage, holding onto it as she keeps bouncing on your cock.

"Wow, I never knew you could ride a dick like that," you tell her. Truth be told, not even Zoa did. Her moves are very spontaneous, the ones of a girl still discovering the pleasures and intrincacies of sex. At times, your cock feels like it's too much for her still-young and unexperienced self, but she's a strong girl ready to blossom and won't stop. The more she feels challenged, the more she wants to ride you, and the harder she goes.

Zoa stays on course; she knows that the elevator won't be turned off for long and wants to bounce as many times on your cock as she can. She starts fingering her pussy, getting wetter, and allowing your prick to slide up and down her easier. "Ah, God," she moans, riding it as fast as she can. The more you hit her sensitive cervix, the better.

You can't be just a bystander to Zoa's pleasure and decide to teach her a lesson, lifting both her legs up and regaining control of the pounding. "Oh yeah," Zoa says as you start pumping her hard back again and destroying her pussy, which has become an addiction to you. The warmth of her hole makes you go feral once more, pounding Zoa balls deep and making your cock fully disappear inside her vagina. It turns out she really likes it rough, as her cunt gets much juicer the moment you go back to manhandle her.

Zoa's pussy burns and clenches all over your cock, forcing you to pull out quickly after just a couple minutes of pounding not to cum inside her. Maybe you need to take it slow. As she turns around, she goes back to sitting on that cock, allowing you to have a full frontal view of her perfect body. "Just ride it as hard as you can," you ask her as you spank her ass. Zoa obliges, this time tilting her body as she clings onto yours and bumps her bouncy chest against it.

"GOD!" Zoa screams as you keep hitting her ass and turning it red, but that only makes her increase her intensity and go full speed against your throbbing pole, bouncing on it as if she wants to snap it in half. "Whoa," you say as Zoa now pushes you to the limit—that perfect, tight pussy biting your cock and sliding up and down—is really just too much for you.

You push your cock up Zoa's pink pussy and put a pair of fingers up her asshole, attempting to slow her down, but she won't cave this time. Zoa wants that cock deep in her pussy at all costs and keeps bouncing. Her hair covers her face, she grabs the handrail hard, and one of her hands is now in her ass to provide her with some extra impulse. "Holy shit," you say as Zoa keeps smashing your cock like nothing. You just decide to grab her by the waist and aid her, pushing her body down your shaft with even more speed, even if it makes you give in and cum inside her.

Zoa's tits are like a pair of pinballs bouncing hard as she places her hands on your chest and stares at you. Her doe eyes are fully bright; she hasn't felt this excited in a long time. Even as you push her closer to you and tilt her body sideways, she never stops. "Fuck, fuck, yes, I want that cock deep in my pussy," she tells you as her cheeks make a loud noise, clapping on your balls.

"Bad girl," you say once again as you slap her ass. Zoa agrees; she's a bad girl, a cock-craving slut, and a teen whore. As she pulls out of your cock a little bit, you think her bombardment is over, but after just two seconds, she has already regained strength to sit back on that cock. It's the only thing she wants now: cock, cock, and more cock. "OH. GOD. FUCK. AH. SHIT." These are the only words that come from Zoa's mouth, as she keeps using your chest as an impulse for her crazy bouncing.

More than 10 minutes have passed, and Zoa just doesn't seem to stop. You push up once again and try to challenge her, as one of her hands is still on the handrail while the other holds your body, but Zoa has won the battle. The truth is, you can never challenge a K-pop idol when it comes to stamina. It's futile.

As Zoa finally climbs out of your cock, she still has her hands on it, always jerking it off at every chance she gets. You stand up to kiss her, still recovering from her crazy ride, but she never gets her tiny hands out of that dick, getting on her knees shortly after to taste her pussy from it, her doe eyes looking more focused than ever. With the way she gags on it, takes it deep in her throat, and jerks it off, it's like your ride never ended. But you can't lie, you love how aggressive she is, taking every second of this elevator fuck session as if it were the last. "Oh yes, fuck," you say as Zoa engulfs that pole all the way deep in her throat in a way many seasoned veterans would be unable to.

"Fuck my face again," she says. Suddenly, that little inexperienced teen is long gone, and she is now giving you orders. She should really respect your seniority, shouldn't she? But you said to hell with it and just gave Zoa what she wanted. You just couldn't say no to the most beautiful woman on the planet, grabbing her head and shoving your big cock down those DSLs until she coughs.

You move back to the elevator's floor, and Zoa follows you as you now penetrate her in a spooning position. Romantic kisses up top and hard pumpings at the bottom ensue. One of your hands grabs her boobs, the other her neck. Zoa can only say "yes" at each pumping and moan like a whore, especially after you move your hands down her body all the way into her wet pussy. You have to grab her long legs to go faster, putting her on the edge. Her pussy tightens as you choke her and muffle her moans with your thumb in her mouth.

You keep pumping Zoa nonstop. "Right there, right there," she says before screaming hard as she cums. She then ties her hair up and gets on her knees, placing her big tits right between your dick and moving them up and down your shaft as you passively watch, searching for that cum. "You want my cum, you little whore?" you ask her. "Yes, baby, all over my pretty face," she says, keeping her aggressive titfucking session going. As you were already on the edge, she promptly gets her wish as seven gravity-defying shots cover her beautiful face full of sperm.

Zoa doesn't even get to enjoy the massive cumshot you gave her, as the elevator starts working again shortly after, leading both of you to get dressed in a hurry and act like nothing happened, with her cleaning her face of your cum just in time to emerge out of it.

It's going to be hard to top your first date.

[rainyday254]

In the midst of chaos due to this week's chapter, Lancelot Headcanons (Featuring Tristan and Guinevere!)

•Lancelot has trained his body to sleep lightly during missions and deeply when he's safe at the palace

•Lancelot hasn't realized he dreamt about Guinevere because she looked much older in the wedding dress and they sound different

•He's horrible at romance. He once had a crush on this girl in Liones and he was stuttering so bad that Tristan had to cover him several times!

•He will always support Jericho because they're siblings (NAKABA GIVE ME BACK THEIR SIBLING RELATIONSHIP!!!)

•Ban would tuck him in every night. No matter what age, four, thirteen, who cares? He's Ban's baby, so he's getting tucked in.

•Elaine loves to kiss his forehead. That and run her fingers through his hair.

•Lancelot refuses to read Guinevere's mind because she knows so much about him and it scares him.

•Guinevere is a full grown adult when they get together (The fact I need to specify this is ridiculous. NAKABA WHYYY??!!!)

•He blushes around people he has crushes on. Just like Elaine, he'll go blood red and he fiddles with his hands to calm down.

•Guinevere is definitely the more mushy one in their relationship though. She loves to be near him at all times.

•Guinevere watches over Lancelot everytime he naps around her. She just can't get over how stunningly beautiful he is.

•Lancelot becomes attracted to her whilst saving her from Arthur. The four knights crash his wedding with her to catch him off guard.

•Guinevere loves him for everything, she always has because to her, he's always been there. She's always known she'd be forced away because of Arthur, so Lancelot brought a sense of belonging and home.

•King and Lancelot are extremely close because they're the mature ones of their respective friend groups.

•King and Diane has a son, Galehaut. He's taller than Lance but not a giant. He's got purple eyes and orange hair. He and Lancelot loved to run around the forest as children.

•He tries not to show it, but whenever he gets compliments, he just melts.

•Meliodas also tucks him in when they're at the palace. He thinks of Lance as a beloved nephew. (Sorry, I just love Trilance friendship, not romance)

•Ban gushes over his son a lot, and by a lot I mean a lot! Like everyone he has a conversation with knows he has a son by the end of it.

•Elaine’s the same way^^

•He loves reading, it's so soothing for him

•His crew are his siblings and he mothers them quite often. He just wants them to be safe and happy.

•Lancelot loves spicy food. Sweet and spicy is his all time favorite combo

•Naisens and Lancelot are drinking buddies due to their ability to hold their liquor.

•Meliodas doesn't let Lance drink, it makes him uncomfortable.

•Finally, Lancelot is a huge Sci-Fi fan. He reads books of that genre like crazy. Every time he's in town, he's in the library getting new books.

[cantfightmoonlight]

“Whoa, hey, who says I'm not going to be stunningly beautiful when I'm old, hm?" If she'd even make it that long. As morbid as it may sound, Jas had never really had a whole lot of hope in having a long life expectancy. It probably had something to do with the fact that most people tended to drop dead around her, but if she did somehow manage to make it that long, she figured she'd be pretty lucky. "And you bet. In fact, I may just get you a tombstone that says it on it now- 'Here lies the plantslaughterer, but not really because the lucky bastard managed to cheat death'. What do you think? Have a nice ring to it or what?" She teased, shooting him a playful look as she did. "Yeah, I'd say air fresheners for now, but finding a new place might not be such a bad idea? You know in the distant future. Though, uh, I don't really know how to describe it? Being able to hear other people's thoughts?" She admitted, knowing he didn't ask it out loud, but given that the question was brought up, she felt odd not answering it for him. "I wouldn't describe it like Twilight, that's for sure. But, um, its kinda is the same as hearing people speak out loud? Except their voice sounds a bit more like how your voice in your own head does. Does that make any sense? If I'm not paying attention or focusing on keeping the voices out and if my back was turned to you, for example, I could easily mistake something you thought for you speaking out loud. It's only when I'm in crowds, when it come sometimes get a little unbearable? But, on the bright side, I'm pretty good at controlling it at this point. Blocking all the noise out? It's just not the most relaxing thing to do which is why I typically don't bother when its just like you and I or Nico or Poppy, you know? People who I know won't mind too much? And a little bit, though technically I settled here first, so not too weird when you consider the fact that you followed me here," She teased some more. "You probably should've headed my warning back first came to town, huh? But, then again, if you had, I wouldn't have you here now so, maybe it all works out for the best?"

“Okay, and when's the last time you spoke to her, hm? Are you avoiding the Mayor, Jules?" She cocked an amused brow up at him. "Hm. All I'm saying is to be careful, because if being well taken care of means what I think it means, then I don't know if you're the most law abiding of citizens anymore. And I'm pretty sure the Mayor isn't going to kidnap you, but you do you, Julie. I just don't want you to make a mistake is all, but what do I know?" She shrugged, only to tense up at the mention of the paper. "Nothing," She reiterated. "And if you're so curious, you can go pick one up on your way home. Though, I'm sorry, what?" Her eyes widened as she choked back on the beer she had just taken a sip of nearly doing a spit take at the mention of babies. "You do realize we don't even live together right? And I can still read your mind."

"And huh. Okay, that makes more sense. I don't think I'd really classify that as 'dating since the summer' if you both thought you were just friends, but apology accepted. Even though, I see Ralph was told before me, huh? And whoa, okay, no. Chandler, I'm going to say this once and only once okay? If you want to date Briar, go for it. You two are adults and I'm sure you can figure your own shit out. I only have two rules that I'm going to ask you to abide by. Number one, I don't want to hear what goes down between the two of you physically, like ever. As far as I'm concerned, you two could get married and have never kissed in my head. Okay? And number two, I really hope it works out. I do, but just in case, it doesn't end up with you two walking hand and hand down the aisle, whatever happens, just don't let it blow up, okay? I love you both and I don't want to really have to chose a side, so definitely weird. Please don't ever gush about dating my sister to me, but other than that, we're cool. Now, can we go back to the whole dying being exciting thing, because what?"

“Ah yes, I can see it now — you, old and gray and on your deathbed, me, still stunningly youthful and gorgeous, and your very last words to me are ‘plantslaughterer’.” He shrugged, “I think it’s a permanent fixture to the apartment. I guess I’ll have to find a big boy job and move onto greener, fresher pastures. Or just deal with it. Air fresheners may help, though.” Julian watched her carefully a moment. He didn’t exactly envy her telepathic abilities, but he wondered what it would be like to listen to someone’s thoughts, to know what went on behind their eyes when they spoke. But that was also a little too Twilight for him, so he shook the idea away and smiled. “Weird, huh? Two kids from the big city and we’re both settling in a place like this.” He had thought of Lunar Cove like his grave, a permanence he didn’t personally love. Lately it had more appeal — between the handful of people around he began to care for. But a small part of him ached for something beyond this town.

He accepted the drink with a wide grin, but it faltered just a bit at mention of the clan. He occupied himself with a long drink before letting out a sigh. “That’s a negative, Ghost Rider,” he fought back a roll of his eyes, “Last I heard, Madam Mayor has to invite you to the clan. I doubt I’d get on her bad side either — I’m a good, law abiding citizen. It’s what makes me so boring. And I’m fine. I’m well taken care of.” He spared a fond smile as he briefly thought of Ralph. He chose his sire for a reason. That was the hand that fed him… Well, and the squirrels in the park, but he didn’t talk about that kind of unsavory meal in most company. “I guess I should start checking my mail in case she sent over an invitation. Though, I imagine initiating into it is more like a weird and gothic fraternity or something — kidnapped in the middle of the night and finding yourself in a crypt somewhere surrounded by people in cloaks and forced to drink a cup with the blood of the clan members or something.” His mouth watered ever so slightly and he took a substantial gulp of his drink. “If it’s not like that I’m certainly not joining.” His eyes narrowed at her a moment, before traveling around in some hopes there was a copy of the paper nearby. No dice. “Jas, what did it say in the papers?” He asked, this time a little more forward. He had the sense it wasn’t just nonsensical town gossip. His brows rose at the name, but didn’t comment. Honestly, he liked it. “I guess it could get confusing for a puppy, but I think as long as you’re both around it’ll be okay. Big step though — puppies aren’t too far off from, like, a baby, right?” He bit his tongue to keep from making a comment about werewolf babies being puppies; he liked Nico, he would swallow a perfectly good joke for the sake of a pal.

Julian blinked, realizing Jasmine had a number of sisters around. “Uhhh,” was all that came out of him in response, but he soon after named the object of his affections. He held up a hand in a defensive stance. A part of him thought it could go either well or bad, telling his best friend he was pursuing her younger sister, but he didn’t realize how his words could come across. Especially when Poppy came into the mix. “Now hold on, a couple quick things. For starters, I did not tell Poppy first — she ran into the two of us while we were hanging out and deduced we liked each other. Actually, she figured it out before we did, which is both hilarious and kinda sad at the same time. Like, up until just before Halloween we hadn’t even realized there were mutual feelings, we both just assumed everything going on between us was platonic. In hindsight that seems ridiculous, but we started hanging out shortly after… You know, what happened in July,” he had no reason to be so vague about the tragedy on the Fourth of July, but he was anyway, “I thought, given what went down with her mom, she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, and she thought I was just being nice to her because of that. We hadn’t realized we felt the same, so I didn’t think I had to ask you at all. I mean, I didn’t want to ask you if it’s okay before knowing if she just saw me as a friend or returned my schoolyard crush on her.”

He frowned, looking genuinely sad and apologetic, at the words that followed. His beer long forgotten on the closest available flat surface, he began wringing his hands uncomfortably in his lap. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “But, really, I didn’t tell the rest of your family anything. Actually, you and Ralph are the only people who I’ve told directly that I have feelings for Briar and that we’re seeing where this goes. So technically speaking, you are among the very first to really know what’s going on. Or to hear it more directly from me. And for what it’s worth, we haven’t really crossed any big steps so far. I mean, I haven’t even kissed her yet, or taken her on a proper, romantic, actual first date.” The former was something which probably would have seemed ridiculous to an outsider, but he figured Jasmine knew him well enough to know he never made definitive moves until he felt completely sure things were progressing in a certain direction. Namely, Julian did not kiss until he was very sure of his feelings and them being returned. Typically not until after a few dates. Call him a prude, he liked to take his time with things that mattered to him. He looked at his hands a second, trying to still them. “If you aren’t comfortable with it… Well, I don’t know if I can stop it, but I would understand. But I want you to know about this, and not just because this involves your sister. I just… I really like her, Jas. Silly as it possibly sounds, this is one of the most exciting things that’s happened to me since moving here. Since dying. I guess I just wanna know if it’s gonna be weird gushing to my best friend about it.”

[imaginedreamwrite]

Sugar & Spice: Part 5

The overhanging draped cloth that had framed the door in delicate swoops of illuminated cotton had set the tone for the entire aesthetic of the event that you and the rest of the records interns and employees had to attend. It was beautiful, from the moment you had stepped through the doors of the ballroom venue with Isla in tow, her gold and embroidered dress had been clinging to her curves and transforming her into a complete femme fatale.

Isla had appeared as if she had been directly pulled from the priceless framed paintings of Aphrodite, the immaculate conception of her entire look had struck a minuscule stream of envy right through you. Isla was beautiful, stunningly so and matched with her extroverted and fiery personality, she had represented part of what you wished you could be.

She had secured her curly hair out of her face with a gold leaflet hairpin, the feathery metallic design matching the overall aesthetic that she was trying to create.

You, in exchange, had gone for a much softer take on the theme and the colours you were required to embrace. The dress that Ari had sent you was smooth and soft satin, emerald green that had matched the main colour of your mask, and the soft gold details of the mask’s boning had been tied into the bangles on your wrists and the locket around your neck.

It was hard to avoid being envious of Isla when she had been so closely tied to who she wanted to be in her everyday life, and you had felt as if you had to hide the real you. It was difficult to balance the life you had online, the life you had wanted for yourself and the life you had to live currently. It was getting harder than you anticipated to be a social media influencer who had enjoyed the simple, softer and cutesy things in life while you were stuck in a dead-end job, in a cramped apartment while attempting to finish a degree.

“This is going to be fun.” Isla had side-eyed Colbie as he followed the two of you, fidgeting and struggling with the cufflinks of his rented suit. “At least we get to pretend we’re not stuck in a thankless job.”

“You okay, Colbie?” You had questioned him as the three of you stepped off to the side, your invitations in hand.

“I feel like a clown.” He grumbled and held out his wrist toward Isla, waiting patiently for her to fix the links that he had been struggling with. “Can this night be over yet? My mask is itchy.”

“Maybe if you didn’t get it at the dollar store.” Isla scolded him and had dropped his wrist to adjust the mask on his face.

“You look really good. Both of you are pretty.” He had handed out the compliment easily to the two of you girls, the natural co-worker friendship extending beyond the office and the hours you had spent together.

“Aww! You sweetheart!” Isla had gushed and leaned forward toward him, pressing the front of her gold-embroidered dress to his dark grey rented suit, the two of them getting exceptionally close as he slipped an arm around her waist to hold her in place, almost as if he was worried that she would misstep because of her heels.

“Isla,” Colbie had blushed, ever dimly, and you had to avert your eyes to prevent yourself from grinning like a madman, “are you done picking at me?”

“Relax, Colbie-boy.” Isla had cooed in return, pulling away just enough to kiss his cheek before she had righted herself and adjusted the front of her dress. “Let’s get this over with so we don’t have to hear Char complain.”

“You didn’t show up on time. You embarrassed me. How dare you come late? Did you get your dress from target?” You had laughed under your breath as you followed Isla toward the front entrance as she raised her voice to a higher pitch and took a few hits at the boss all three of you had disliked.

“I like Target.” You had defended the store while fiddling with your clutch to ease your nerves, knowing full well that somewhere inside was Ari. The man you had not seen in person, yet he had known you, was waiting to greet you in the flesh.

“This place is beautiful.” Isla’s voice had caught you off guard as you stepped into the venue after having your invitation checked, and once you had lifted your head and gazed at the immaculately decorated space, you had joined her as she gawked.

The double-doored entrance had immediately opened to a path that led between tables to a wide dance floor with the logo of one of the sponsors displayed in soft glow that had been illuminated by overhanging lights. The walls were draped in the same soft cotton or satin as the entrance, with the same delicate yet colourful glow that transformed the room into an otherworldly spectacle.

There was nothing that had been decorated in some manner, that hadn’t aided in the sophistication of a plain room that had usually been the location of conferences and everyday business events.

But now, the room was breathtaking with sleek vases dripping in crystals and small delicate tea lights, ivory table cloths and placeholders with each guest’s name etched into cardstock and placed on the settings. There were designated tables for each department, and despite how measly the city records employees had seemed, and how far away from the sponsors you were, there was no difference between the table decorations and centrepieces.

“This is us,” Isla had tapped your arm and directed you toward a table that was placed near the entry-level interns for the utility departments, “might as well be at the kid’s table.”

“I thought we were?” You had placed your hand against the back of the cloth-covered chair and pulled it out from under the table, and had begun the process of sitting down when Isla had placed her hand on yours.

“That dress by the way,” she beamed at you, “looks amazing on you. Seriously, you’re a knockout. Colbie?”

Your fellow employee had glanced between you and Isla, his eyes widening and his mouth opening and closing in a stutter. He had been unsure of what to say, unsure of what he could convey while Isla was sitting there, and you could hardly blame him.

“I already said you were both pretty. Is..do I need to say anything else? I like the colour..?”

“It’s okay, Colbie.” You flashed him a smile in exchange for the compliment that he had offered you, albeit nervously.

“I’m going to get a drink, do you want anything?” You had questioned Isla and Colbie, briefly glancing at the few drink tickets they had left for you on your plates under your names.

“We are at the kid’s table. Two drinks. Seriously?” Isla scoffed and grabbed Colbie’s ticket when he held it out, along with one of hers.

“I think that’s Char’s doing.” You exemplified your point by tilting your head in the direction of your right shoulder toward the image of your boss double fisting two wine glasses.

“She’s allowed to get drunk but we aren’t?” Isla complained when she leaned forward and rest her head in her chin, her brown eyes narrowing the longer she had stared. “She doesn’t need to worry about us embarrassing her, she can do that well enough on her own.”

“All hail Queen Char.” You giggled under your breath after your ‘hail’ was joined and matched by Colbie and Isla.

“Wine and beer.” Colbie had chimed you with their drink requests before you could even open your mouth and ask, his attention slyly moving toward Isla. “Sweet red.”

“Heineken for you.” You nodded your head and held the drink tickets in your right hand and your clutch in your left, and had begun making your way toward the bar, keeping your head down and your ears out for any mention of the name Ari.

When you were halfway toward the bar, you had nearly jumped out of your skin when the name you were listening for was boasted loudly by a man with a clean-shaven head, his warm honey brown eyes boring into the body of a massive man with slicked-back brown hair.

“Ari Levinson, it’s been a long time.”

“Ethan Levin-“ the sound of Ari’s voice, although a little distorted by the crowd, was pleasant and it was too easy to be lost in the deep tones and husky trill. Nevertheless, you had turned away and scurried to the bar, waiting near the end in a place where you had hoped you would be inconspicuous. You had felt anxious the entire time, you had felt your stomach fluttering and turning sour simultaneously since you had come to find that Ari wasn’t just a rich heir.

Ari Levinson was a CEO. Ari Levinson wasn’t just well off, he was a smart and capable businessman who had national and international organizations under his belt.

From the impression you had gotten from Jake, Ari wasn’t a rich asshole either. Jake had made it seem as if Ari was a good man and a good boss, and somehow that felt delightfully better and tragically worse.

You had leaned forward to look down the bar, watching the men and women waiting for their drinks in colour-coded masks that had all been situated well enough to obscure their looks, or at the very least parts of their faces. When you had felt your phone vibrate in your clutch, you had turned away from the bar and opened the clasp then reached inside for your device. As you had pulled it out, you looked at the text that had arrived and raised your head, the message itself making you bite down on your bottom lip as you scoured the crowds for the man you had thought was Ari.

‘Did you find him yet?’ – Jake

You dropped your head and texted back quickly, the message more than a simple ‘no’, but rather an explanation of how many people were here and how hard it would be to find him.

It was an excuse and you both knew it, but you didn’t feel like talking about it at the moment when you were trying to get drinks and make it through the night.

You had second thoughts about this plan, about meeting Ari at this event. You had thought that this whole situation was a little like the prince and the pauper, only this was reality and once he got a look at you, he would realize you were not what he expected.

“Drinks for you?” The bartender had arrived, and you placed your tickets on the top and slid them toward him, mumbling the request for wine, Heineken and a Long Island iced tea.

As the bartender had turned away to begin making your drinks, you had pressed your palms against the top and leaned in, your elbows resting against the curve of the counter, and you had stolen a look over your shoulder.

The men you had seen speaking together had almost completely broken off into smaller groups, and the bald man you heard being called ‘Ethan’ was conversing with a small group. His warm honey brown eyes had moved past the man he was talking to and fell to you, the action making you avert your gaze immediately. You had feigned interest in the conversation taking place to your left, the prattles about a certain basketball team that was going to win or lose, had done nothing to distract you.

“Wine, Heineken, Long Island iced tea.” The bartender had returned and placed all three drinks down for you, giving you a stiff smile before moving on.

You had first grabbed the Heineken and tucked it into your arm, shivering at the cold, before you grasped the wine and your drink, balancing them in your hands with your clutch trapped between your wrist and your bust, acting almost as a stabilizer.

“I can do this.” You had turned and taken a single step when a body had jerked into you, and the resulting tumble you had taken into another body, had resulted in everything in your arms falling from your grasp and shattering.

“Shit!” You cursed and stepped back, bumping again, into the person behind you.

“You okay, princess?” His husky voice had reverberated in your ears, his wake hands stabilizing you as one of the waiters had come from the back with a broom to clean up the glass.

While it was being cleaned, you were fixated on the large hands steadying your waist and the invigorating cologne that was slightly spicy and clean invading your senses. You had known, without turning around, without even having to look at the man behind you, that it was Ari. You had known it was him just you the way he said that pet name.

“I’m sorry.” You turned and began to immediately and profusely apologize, staring at the lapel of his suit instead of looking at his face. You couldn’t look at him because you knew that if you had, you would see one of the most beautiful men you could ever lay your eyes on.

“You don’t need to be sorry, sweetheart. Are you okay? You’re not hurt?” He had gently touched your chin, ever so slightly, and you had raised your head and inhaled sharply.

He was beautiful, and just as you had thought, Ari Levinson was massive in size.

“I don’t…” you stuttered and stumbled over your words, captivated by his bright blue eyes and the well-trimmed but full beard that has graced his face.

“Y/N, it’s finally nice to meet you, princess,” he had smiled kindly, and extended his hand for you to follow him back to the bar, though you were only a few steps away, “I owe you and your friends more drinks.”

“I didn’t…I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing, Y/N. it wasn’t your fault.” Ari had stepped close to you and had mumbled a request against your ear, asking if you would simply let him place his hand on you.

“You’re asking? Most men don’t ask?” You were puzzled and then hit with immense warmth as he laughed softly and placed his hand on the small of your back.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, princess.” His hand was large and warm on the small of your back, and you were almost delightfully pleased with how natural it had felt.

“Mr. Levinson-“

“Oh no, honey.” He had cut you off gently. “You don’t need to call me Mr. Levinson. You can call me Ari.”

“I’m sorry, this just…I didn’t expect…this.” You exhaled softly, and waited while he had ordered more drinks, no tickets required, and then leaned against the bar, eyes cast on you.

“Jake told you everything?” Ari seemed amused and relaxed, unbothered by the manner of how Jake had spoiled the surprise.

“Yeah. And I mean…he analyzed everything about you.” You could feel eyes burning holes into your back, and you had quickly looked over your shoulder, spying Isla staring you down with surprise and eagerness.

“I’m not anyone you need to worry about. And if it helps you relax, I’m the same man you had talked to on your socials.” Ari had slipped his hand further up your back and pressed closer to you when someone had pressed into the bar behind him.

“Except that you’re a CEO, you’re rich and…” you chewed the inside of your cheek, butterflies fluttering in your belly.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart. I hope you know that. The dress is nice, but you are gorgeous.” Ari had spoken so blatantly, so boldly and left no room for arguments.

“Thank you for it,” you had reached for the mask as if you had forgotten you were even wearing it, “and the mask. I didn’t…expect it.”

“Did you also get the coat? I hope you like it. Boston winters are tough.” Ari had thanked the bartender when the replacement drinks had arrived and then helped you gather them.

“The coat… it’s beautiful, Mr-“ you cut yourself off and then cleared your throat. “Ari…thank you.”

“You don’t need to be uncomfortable, princess. I’m the same man you talked to online.” It was the second time he had mentioned it, and the second time in a short while that he had reassured you.

“I finished reading the book you recommended me,” your voice had shaken slightly as you spoke, still nervous, “it was amazing.”

“I thought you would like it.” Ari had walked with you, only briefly acknowledging the people who had spoken their ‘hellos’, while keeping most of his attention on you until you had reached your table and descended upon Isla and Colbie who were in the process of getting up.

“You’re leaving already? We just got here.” You commented in surprise, briefly looking at Ari from the corner of your eyes.

“We can-“ Colbie was cut off with a gentle nudge from Isla and a suspiciously mischievous smirk.

“Char’s already blasted, clearly from some pre-party shots, and no one else from records showed up. Mandatory my ass. So Colbie and I are going to find some cheap food, even cheaper beer and complain about the she-devil.” Isla’s gaze flitted from Ari to yourself, and then back again.

“The gorgeous stranger from the coffee shop,” her smirk widened as she started to pull you away, “can keep you company.”

“Isla,” you grumbled under your breath.

“Coffee shop?”

“I’ll tell you later, Colbie. It’ll give us something to talk about at the pub.” Isla was taking no denials, and she had swiped her clutch from the table and gently whacked Colbie with it, to get him to move.

“I’m gonna kill her.” You gaped at the empty table, your frustration and ire growing. “She just left me…I mean…now what?”

“You wanna sit with me, princess?” Ari had offered, gently removing the wine from your hands to set it down on the table. “I would hate to leave you alone.”

“No offence to you but,” you looked across the room to the table of women and men who were dressed even more impeccably than yourself, “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“This event or this entire meeting?” Ari questioned, and then lift the Long Island iced tea toward you to take.

You opened your mouth to speak and then had closed it just as quickly.

“I have to go to Brussels next weekend, come with me. Give me a weekend to convince you.” Ari had placed his hand on the small of your back again, brushing his thumb back and forth across your dress softly.

“Brussels? Ari…I can’t…go to Belgium.” Despite your protests and denial, your heart has started fluttering at the thought, at the idea of skipping town.

“Why not, sweetheart? You hate your job and you’ve talked about quitting and finding something else. You’ve talked about travelling, about seeing the world and becoming the kind of person you are through your social media accounts. You can come with me.”

There was a chance, an opportunity for you to turn it down and walk away. Instead, you had exhaled slowly.

“Okay. I’ll go with you.”

[satorhime]

LOLLYYYY !!!!! im so sorry i took me the entire day to read sugarstream but … BUT ! i hope you know i’m you’re biggest fan — i have been ITCHING for this piece and now that i’ve finally read it, i feel so complete?? like wow. my life goal has been accomplished now. feeling #Blessed.

++ i wanted to tell you how beautifully written it was…. i was taking notes mentally.. like “wow she wrote it this way instead of that” and “oh my god that was so clever,,, how did she think of that” and the obvious thoughts of “oh that is so hot….. lolly is having so much fun right now (i hope)…” LOL

and i think it’s because i associate gojo with you, i find myself thinking, “oh yeah… YEAH… gojo is totally like this…” because anything you say, goes.

i just really believe you understand his character well… and every time you write him, i get so lost into the smaller details you’d pick up like an easter egg — i was like omg honored one?? one and only?? SLAYYYY !!!! i feel so damn happy being able to gush about him internally while reading the same way you gush about him secretly in your writing heheheh

ugh and i just wanted to tell you that you’re such a big, big inspo for me too!! you have my entire heart (i have such a big crush on you) <3

p.s. i love the plot. i love the details. i love the writing. i love everything but i think my favorite thing out of it all has to be seeing how fearful gojo’s character is. i think this summarizes him as a whole… without spoiling anything at all! i find that so interesting too.. being able to communicate how someone is without giving anything away.. ugh, it was stunningly written. im still on the floor.

i love you. (tiny font because i felt SOOOO guilty writing you an LONG essay but i am also worrying im straining your eyes right now IM SO SORRY !!!!)

dilly 🥹 i’ve read this ask an embarrassing amount of times since you sent it in and i’m still speechless okay. i had SOOOO much fun writing sugarstream and i’ve been excited about it for a long time but i didn’t think anyone would feel this way about my writing or to think such things while reading my dumb little fics. a girl’s dream is to hear she understands and writes her favorite character well, OKAY. i’m sitting over here giggling because you said that ❣️i can’t come up with enough things to say but i teared up a little and i love you so much. for a writer who writes as beautiful as you do, this is one of the best compliments i’ve ever received!!!! I LOVE YOU. i’m rambling now but thank you so much for saying these kind words. i hope you know i’m going to read this ask a thousand times because you’re the sweetest ever!!!!! (˘̩̩ε˘̩ƪ)

[incorrectkumokoquotes]

I noticed you tagged Schlain/Katia/Wrath as “ot3” and it got me wondering: any other ships you like? I’m still new to this fandom, but I enjoy shipping and was wondering what to look forward to as I continue reading. Also, if I come up with any suggestions for this blog (nothing yet, sadly), it might help to know what pairs you’d be willing to do if any of my ideas are shippy.

Oh mate, haven’t thought about this in super depth, but I guess I might as well 😅

Firstly, welcome to the fandom!!

Secondly, I don’t really have any NOTPs. So whatever submission you find cute, you’re welcome to send them in. I don’t particularly have a specific hard ‘no’ in terms of ship quotes.

Maybe Potimas? I mostly just enjoy dunking on him instead of shipping him.

For my ships, I’ll put below to save everyone’s dashes.

Platonic Ships

Shiro & Hyuvan

The drama queens. The fleet stormers. This dude fought one (1) battle with her and decided they were buddies for life. I love every interaction they have.

Shiro & Ariel & Mera

Specifically including Mera. I love how much these three go from being three strangers to three very tired parents. Quality character development.

Schlain & Feirune

I love Fei so much. An absolute queen. Schlain’s best wing dragon, and has solemnly sworn that she’s not gonna let this idiot die.

Dustin & Sajin

100 Agility/0 Intellect teenager paired with 0 Agility/100 Intellect mentor. S-Tier character design.

Romantic Ships

Ariel/Shiro

Obviously my main one. I think of it as more exclusively romantic than sexual, because I don't think Shiro cares about sex. Simply put, I just see two ladies who want to spend the rest of their lives together and my poor heart is weak to that sort of thing.

Felmina/Sophia

I ship this because I am a tumblr user, and I love a ship where two people mean more to each other than anyone else, but it’s uniquely because they hate each other.

Asaka/Kunihiko

Soulmates. Big BokuAka energy. Dude reincarnated with his childhood best friend and was like ‘not taking any chances, I want to marry you before we die a second time’

Mera/A good night’s sleep.

mate, buddy, please, you’re doing great just take a fucking nap

Katia/Schlain/Wrath

Oooo, and here we go. I could gush about how good these characters are made to foil each other for years. Fundamentally tho, I ship them because they are all just absolutely feral.

Wrath:

Katia:

Schlain:

Also receipts from Schlain’s POV:

Like mate. If you’re calling them stunningly beautiful and ogling muscles mid-battle, maybe, just maybe, you’re attracted to them.

I’ve definitely got more, which could probably be told from the quotes themselves, but those are definitely my dearly beloved. I hope this was an enjoyable read 😊

[ffakc]

Golden Globes - a Jeffrey Dean Morgan fanfiction

Written for my girl @negans-attagirl also tagging: @iluvneganandjamie and @jdmbbycakes

Jeff laced my fingers with his as we strolled onto the red carpet. This was the first time we were going to be seen together as a couple. We had met on the set of his film Solace and the rest was history.

“Jeffrey!”

“Jeff! Over here!”

“Who’s the pretty girl?”

“You look beautiful! Who are you wearing?”

The paparazzi are yelling as we glance in all directions, trying to give them the perfect shot. I shrug and giggle as Jeff wraps his arm around my waist. I didn’t have a clue who designed my dress for the evening. I place my hand on his chest and pose.

“Is that your girlfriend, Jeffrey?”

“Yeah!” he calls out.

“What’s her name?”

Jeff rolls his eyes, “I don’t owe you shit!” He was never too fond of photographers getting up in his grill. He flashes a fake smile as we move on down the line.

“And here we have Jeffrey Dean Morgan AKA Negan on The Walking Dead! How are you doing tonight? Looking sharp, my friend!” the reporter says.

“Hey, thanks! I’m alright! It’s date night with my gal here!” Jeff replies with a chuckle.

“Nothing says hot date like an awards show!” the reporter teases. “Ah, you’re Ylana (last name)! You two starred in a movie recently together, correct?” I nod and link my arm with Jeff’s. “I guess that intense sex scene really hit things off!”

“There’s nothing sexy about sex scenes, to be honest. Cameras are quite literally up your ass,” I say and Jeff smiles.

“Isn’t she just gorgeous?” my boyfriend gushes.

“Ravishing, darling! Can you tell us anything about the new season? It sounds like Negan is finally turning a corner!”

“I guess you’ll have to tune in and find out!”

“I had a feeling you might say that! It’s been good talking to you, man. Have a great night!”

“Thanks, you too!” Jeff leads me down the walkway. Bright white lights shine down like we just walked through the Pearly Gates. Cameras were on all sides, filming our outfits.

“Let’s give them a show, baby girl,” Jeff growls in my ear. Before I can respond, he places a veiny hand on my throat and kisses me deeply. Cameras flash wildly as I close my eyes and lean into the kiss, tuning out our audience of photographers and fans in the bleachers. I feel my older man’s dick harden in his incredibly fitted pants. Jeff pulls away and waves at the crowd as we head inside the lavish hotel.

“I’d be lying if I was saying that didn’t make me a little excited,” Jeff teases. I kiss his cheek with a smile.

“Kind of exhilarating with everyone watching!” I giggle.

***

Jeff sips his champagne and traces his fingers over my thigh. He had already done his award presentation with the incredibly gorgeous Priyanka Chopra and finally was able to relax. He places his glasses in the breast pocket of his suit. He looked so stunningly handsome in his sleek all black number. I rest my head on his shoulder as his hand tugs at my dress. He kisses my forehead sweetly.

“Now, I don’t know if it’s the bubbly talking,” Jeff’s gravelly voice is barely audible as he whispers in my ear, “But god damn, I want you so bad right now.” He licks his lips as he glares at my cleavage poking out of my sweetheart neckline.

“Jeffrey,” I murmur as his slender fingers attempt to penetrate the fabric of my dress. I feel warmth begin to gather between my thighs as he maintains a straight face, smiling at fellow actors. What a tease.

“I’m trying to think of a place we can sneak off to,” he mutters between gritted teeth, “I’ve never been here before”. I muster up what little courage I have.

“Excuse me,” I pipe up to the server refilling everyone’s glasses. He glances at me, “Where can I get some fresh air? I’m feeling a little dizzy.”

“Oh, absolutely! If you go out those back doors, there’s a little outdoor seating area. Anything else I can help you with?” he says with a warm smile.

“I think I’m okay,” I reply.

“I hope you feel better, dear!” I stand up and begin speed walking and shoot a glance at Jeff as he looks around the table.

“I better make sure she’s okay,” he follows after me. Jeff makes his way to the patio where I’m waiting not so patiently.

“Oh, Daddy,” I whimper, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him deeply, “Take me right here, right now.”

“I would want nothing more,” Jeff breathes into my neck, “I’m so damn hard, baby girl.” He checks out our surroundings to ensure there aren’t any straggler photographers lurking about. “You look so beautiful in your dress tonight, sweet thing.” I tangle my hands in Jeff’s soft, graying locks as his tongue explores my mouth. Jeff’s large hands cup my breasts. He pulls down the neckline on my gown. It’s surprisingly quiet out on the patio, all I hear are Jeff’s soft lips suckling gently on my hardened nipples. He unbuttons his pants and slides them down carefully, unveiling his pulsing cock. I slide up my dress and lean against the wall as Jeff grabs my thigh and presses against me. I scratch his gray beard as he looks deep into my eyes. He smiles lovingly and kisses me. His cock rubs my entrance, begging to be let in.

“I love you so much, Jeffrey. Fuck me, please fuck me. I can’t take it anymore,” I whimper. He sinks into me with a sinful hiss. His short nails dig into my thigh as he thrusts rhythmically.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Oh god, you feel too damn good, I ain’t gonna last long,” Jeff gasps. His hips jerk as he adjusts me to reach maximum depth. The fullness makes me shudder with delight.

“This is so crazy, baby,” I moan. “We’re going to get caught.”

“And? Let them see. Let them take pictures,” Jeff groans against my neck. “‘Jeffrey Dean Morgan caught having sex in bushes at awards show!’” he breathlessly chuckles.

“To be fair, we’re on a patio, not in the bush- Oh Jeffrey!” I gasp.

“I’m so close already, baby girl,” Jeff grunts. I grasp his slivering hair and slip my tongue between his perfect pink lips. Oh fuck, baby, I’m going to absolutely drain my balls into you.”

“Please, Daddy, fill me up.”

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs. “Daddy’s going to make this little pussy so full. I’m going to cum, doll. I’m going to breed you so good. Mmm, fuck!” My muscles squeeze around him as his cock throbs and his load drips down my leg. We both attempt to catch our breath as Jeff gently pulls out and holds onto me. He sets my quivering legs back on flat ground.

“That... Jeffrey... oh my god,” words are failing me. He takes the pocket square out of his suit pocket and cleans himself off.

“Don’t laugh. It’s no towel, but it’ll do the job,” Jeff giggles to himself. He looks around like a mischievous little kid and tosses the silk cloth in the bushes. “We’ll leave the Beverly Hilton a little souvenir.”

“I think we should have public sex more often,” I run my fingers through his hair.

“I absolutely agree, my gal,” Jeff kisses me.

[drunkenoctopus]

So uh, @norcumii said princess switch and my mind went here. I have no time or skill to do anything more so feel free if anyone wants to add/run with it. Just tag me so I can read and gush over Obi-Wan/Rex.

Baker Rex. Just wants to spend a quiet Christmas with his friends. But his best friend Anakin is going on a diplomatic trip with his fiancé Padme. Ashoka is heading over to her new girlfriend's hometown and its fine, he'll just stay home and work on some new Christmas recipes for the shop.

However before he leaves Anakin drops the bomb: he signed Rex up for the most prestigious baking competition Stewjon's Sweet Spectacular. Anakin knows Rex's confidence hasn't been what it was ever since he left the military, especially after his awful experiences at Krell's Kakes (that bastard stole Rex recipes and worse) so he's hoping this would help his best friend realise that he really is the best.

Rex is hesitant at first but this competition is a huge deal and when he hears Krell is in the competition he has to go! This could be the chance to finally prove he really is better than that kriffing bastard.

Meanwhile Cody is preparing himself for the marriage to Stewjon's youngest Prince. Its not that Cody minds really, he knows that Mandalore needs this alliance, and the Prince is pretty nice and kind. Its just that this isn't the picture Cody had in his head for his future. (He'd be happy being ori'ramikad his while life probably) But his dad Jango is counting on him. Boba is next in line to be Mandalor so it has to be Cody. (There was some talk about one of the Duchesses possibly but his father thought this alliance was too important) And Cody, well he'll do anything for Mandalore's future.

Excpet when he gets to Stewjon, it's so different from home and they have so many traditions and he feels like he's getting them all wrong and he keeps putting his foot in his mouth and the prince is kind but he needs some breathing room and needs to get away from this impending future for a minute.

So when he sees this random guy who somehow *looks exactly like him* (with blonde hair and no scar) he can't help it. Cody and his personal aide Wooley hastily make a plan (involving some boxes of hair dye and scar makeup and lots and lots of hats). But Cody will finally get some time to come to terms with his upcoming wedding and Rex will get to play with the handsome prince.

Obi-Wan knows his future spouse is trying. And he's trying in return, to be kind. He knows this is nothing but a political alliance. To cement the relationship between Mandalore and the Stewjoni jedi once and for all (especially after the disaster that almost happened with his uncle Count Dooku a few years ago). Mandalore needs their aide and they need to avoid the fallout of that almost disaster.

But he wishes there was someone else, his future spouse can only look at him for so long before panicking. His older brother, Mace and his daughter the crown princess Depa have the country in hand, and it's Obi-Wan's duty to make sure the alliance sticks. (He's always had a fascination with Mandalore and actually secretly dated one of their Duchesses once, but he supposes she didn't care much for him if she's not up for consideration).

He's really trying to be patient and teach his spouse all he needs to know about Stewjon (after all they will be splitting their time between the 2 nations as ambassadors) but he thinks Cody's getting overwhelmed.

So he's glad that when he suggests a break from formalities it seems to work! There's a new light in Cody's eyes and his smile is doing something different as he talks about himself(and oh is that a flutter in Obi-Wan's chest?) and he's passionate and sarcastic and actually has some great views on politics and maybe this might not be so bad! Now Obi-Wan is actually looking forward to the end of the holiday when they officially announce their engagement at the Spectacular. (Obi-Wan is also low key wondering if he can get away with hand feeding Cody little pastries on national television.)

Rex switched places with a prince. Well Ven'Alor. But same thing really. And now he has another (beautiful) prince smiling at him like he hung the stars. What the kriff is his life?! (How does this even happen? He knew his dad Sid adopted him on Naboo but he never asked about his birth family before Sid died. Is it somehow possible he's related to the Mandalor?!)

But Obi-Wan's smile is really something else. And he's so sweet, and kind and he listened when Rex went off on his tirade about military reform and laughs at Rex's terrible jokes, and he doesn't know why Cody would run away from this. Cody... Rex keeps forgetting that this is just for a little while, that he has to give up Obi-Wan soon, and maybe he's not ready to do that. So he pushes it out of his mind and focuses on that stunningly sly smile Obi-Wan keep flashing at him (he's also wondering when is it appropriate to kiss that smile off the prince).

[the-blind-assassin-12]

This Time Around

Word Count: 2,942  Warnings: anxiety/panic, implied drug use and addiction, death/illness  A/N: The title for this one comes from the song Io by Helen Stellar. I strongly suggest listening to it as an accompanying piece to this. This piece is connected to the Core Drive AU and directly correlates to another one shot for that series. It takes place a little bit ahead of the current storyline, and will come into play in a bigger way soon enough ;) (so sorry for the angsty vibes on SUCH  a stunning piece of art! but it will all make sense i promise) 

(ARTIST APPRECIATION SUBMISSION)  

Oh hi there. It’s 1am EST and I figured now is as good a time as any to gush over @valkblue​ ‘s extraordinary talent. I was lucky enough to commission Angie during her Trick-or-Treat fanart event, and I knew that giving her free-reign to decide what to draw was the right call because literally everything this artist creates is absolute magic. From the color choices to the movement, the little details like the bracelets and Juliet’s Superman shirt and the way that you can hear the laughter coming from this picture... I’m seriously speechless. Real talk? I teared up when I saw it for the first time, not going to lie. 

So Angie, I hope you enjoy this (and I hope you can forgive me for putting a little bit of an angsty twist on this beautiful memory). Thank you so SO much for creating it for me and for sharing your incredible work with all of us. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again- You are a stunningly talented gem and you are appreciated!!  

Look how sweet and innocent and gleeful they were are!! 

What did I just read? 

She let out an uneven breath as she lifted one shaking hand up to fix a curl that had fallen loose over her eyes. Two pearl bracelets knocked together on her wrist, clicking softly as she dropped her arm back to her side. Her fingertips swept over the sweaty center of her palms . 

What did I just read? It sounded like… 

Clamping her eyes shut tightly, she swallowed and released another burst of air. 

If this is true it means… It means he was… 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Delos.” 

She gasped and looked up from the marble floor, blinking rapidly to realign her features into a more neutral expression. Managing a tight-lipped smile, she nodded at the member of the estate staff who had greeted her, and the woman went back to work situating a vase filled with peonies in full bloom. The groundskeeper always supplied fresh cuttings to be displayed throughout the house, and the recent change in the weather meant that the garden was bursting with color. 

Juliet’s eyes lingered on the fluffy blossoms as the woman twisted the vase and stepped away from the credenza. “Is there anything I can get for you, ma’am?” She clasped her hands in front of her, waiting for a reply. 

“N-” she cleared her throat with a small cough. “No, thank you, I’m fine.” 

That’s a lie. 

But whether it was because she was paid not to ask questions, or because she believed what Juliet said, the woman didn’t hesitate before nodding with a smile. “Well then, have a lovely day, Ms. Delos.” 

With that the young woman hurried off to complete the next task on her agenda, and Juliet released the tension she was holding in her shoulders, chest rising and falling as she tried again to take steady breaths. But the buzzing in her ears came rushing back as soon as she was alone again, and one hand flew out to help her catch her balance as she turned the corner into the back hall. Her footsteps slowed and faltered slightly as she made her way down to the last room, as though the air was so thick and full of memories that it was like trying to run under water. 

The simple, white wooden door was closed, like it always was these days. She hadn’t been able to set foot inside the room in close to a decade, and since Logan had moved out only the housekeepers entered it. Preferring not to feel the things she was feeling now, she’d put her mother’s sitting room out of her mind by putting it out of her sight. But now I… she swallowed, hard. 

“Don’t let him ruin you, Juliet…” 

The last words her mother spoke to her echoed in her mind, as clearly as they had the day that the woman held her daughter’s face between her palms, begging her to remain true to herself. Her heart stalled then, and a chill filled her chest, spreading out into her limbs, into her mind. She sucked in a breath as the rest of her mother’s words came back to her. 

“He’ll do anything for power... Don’t trust him, Jules.”  

..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..

It had been the last day of an unexpected visit home before leaving for a semester abroad, and Juliet had been sitting with her mother while the woman recounted what was clearly one of her strongest memories. Although she hadn’t worn her hair in braids since she was eight years old, she relaxed against her mother’s bent knees, closing her eyes as the woman raked her fingernails through her wavy, dark brown locks. Separating it into pieces, she began weaving the strands over and under, hands remembering the motions so her mind wouldn’t have to. 

“Do you remember when you and your brother crash landed in the lilac bush?” Her tone was tinged with an air of mischief, the question finishing with a laugh that had made Juliet smile. 

Of course I do. Her eyes had opened then, flicking across the sitting room to the table by the window seat, where a silver frame held a photo of the very moment that her mother was reminiscing about. In it, a tiny version of herself held the ropes of a swing tightly between clenched fists, her legs extended out in front of herself, shoes just seconds away from becoming projectiles and launching from her feet. Logan stood on the swing’s seat, one brightly colored sneaker planted on either side of her, his own small hands wrapped tightly around the ropes as he swayed his weight to send them swinging higher. 

“You wanted to fly to the moon.” Another little chuckle tumbled from her mother’s lips as she secured an elastic around the bottom of one pigtail. I remember. Juliet wasn’t sure if that was a fact she recalled from the memory itself, or from the many times it had been retold, but it didn’t matter. She remembers. She remembers this. Maybe she… Maybe Logan’s wrong. Maybe she’s getting better. She smiled as her mother started working on the other side of her parted hair. It was a wishful thought and she knew it, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be true. “You always wanted to go higher. My fearless little girl.” 

Juliet closed her eyes again to let the story play out in her head and she could hear her own delighted squeals as she begged her brother to swing them higher and faster, his response nearly drowned out by his gleeful laughter. “Okay, Jules, hold on tight!”  

No one would know it now if they hadn’t grown up with her, but Juliet Delos had been an adventurous, rough and tumble child, always covered head to toe in scrapes and bruises she’d gotten from trying to jump and  climb and do everything that Logan did. He was older, bigger, stronger and quicker, but that never stopped him from including his sister, nor did it hold her back one bit. They were almost inseparable, Juliet idolizing him and Logan seemingly loving every moment of it. Though they’d grown up and grown apart somewhat as teenaged siblings sometimes do, Juliet still looked up to Logan. I’m just not wearing his hand-me-downs anymore. She blinked over at the photo once more, smirking at the grass-stained Superman shirt she was wearing, recalling her absolute disinterest when her parents had told her that she could have a pink Supergirl one instead if she wanted. “Logan’s is Superman,” she’d stubbornly pointed out. “I want to be like Logan.” 

Juliet grinned, looking out the window and into the yard then, where the ropes of the swing still hung from the enormous tree. “We almost got to the moon, mom,” she said, handing her mother a second elastic when she’d tapped her on the shoulder. “Our calculations just didn’t account for your lilacs.” 

The sound of her mother’s laughter then felt like a balm to her heart, smoothing over all the little cracks put there from the times when the woman couldn’t remember things, or worse, when she remembered them incorrectly. She’s still there, she told herself, allowing that thought to put her at ease about leaving the country in the morning. She’ll still be here when I get home.The assurance was all she needed to let herself get lost in the rest of the memory. 

“Okay Jules, ready?” Logan asked confidently as he angled himself to gain more velocity on the swing.

Juliet tilted her head back to look up at him as her pigtails trailed behind in the breeze, small forehead furrowed and chapped bottom lip between her teeth. “Y-yeah…” 

She gave herself away with her nervous laughter though, and Logan didn’t miss it. “C’mon, jump with me, I won’t let you fall.”

The laughter came back but this time it was from excitement. “Okay!” More laughter as their mother snapped a picture from where she and their father were sitting on the veranda. “Okay, Logan!”  

He started counting down from three then, his voice downright giddy with the prospect of flying from the swing. When he got to one he yelled out the word “Jump!”, and on command Juliet flung herself from the seat of the swing, Logan springing off of it right behind her as it hit the height of its trajectory. It took no time at all for the pair of them to realize that they were headed straight into and not over their mother’s precious lilac bush and though Logan tried to wrap his scrawny arms around his sister in midair, hoping to somehow protect her from the impact, they both ended up tangled in the twiggy, broken branches of the massive purple shrub. 

“How’d we walk out of that one scot free? No broken bones?” Juliet mused, laughing as she recalled pulling petals from her hair late into the evening that night. 

“No broken bones.” Her mother confirmed, smoothing back any stray strands that she missed in the braids. Juliet sighed at the feeling of her nails combing over her scalp, relishing the moment. She hasn’t done that in…  “But do you remember how mad your father got?” Her hands dropped down then, landing on Juliet’s back and causing her to turn around to face her mother. 

Furrowing her brow, she cocked her head to one side. “Dad didn’t get mad… he…” she pursed her lips and thought hard, searching her memory for her father’s wrath and coming up short. “Did he?” 

“He did.” Her mother nodded, a solemn look overtaking her face as she picked up one of Juliet’s braids to examine her handiwork. “He screamed at your brother, told him he should have known better; that it was his job to protect you and not to put you in danger.” She sighed and let the braid fall, the tail end of it landing on Juliet’s shoulder. 

He did? Logan never told me that… She was about to ask her mother if she was sure when the woman’s expression changed, the furrows smoothing out and a smile returning to her cheeks. But not her eyes… Juliet frowned, a sudden sense of dread setting in. Maybe she’s not getting better after all…  “Juliet, do you remember the stories I used to tell you and your brother? When we’d sit in the garden? Oh,” she giggled, the sound seeming much smaller and less lifelike than the genuine laughter the two of them had shared only moments before. “The myths! You always wanted to hear the myths.” Her unfocused eyes stuck to the woven strands of her daughter’s hair. “Io and Hermes, Pan, Syrinx and Argos...those were your favorites, do you remember?” 

Juliet took a shuddering breath then, feeling her eyes prick with tears at the way her mother seemed to have slipped into another moment without warning. “Y-yeah, mom… I remember.” She sniffed, swiping her tears with her pointer finger before her mother could notice them. “Pan chased Syrinx into the forest, where she turned into a flower? Or...a bush-” 

“A lilac bush, my Jul,” her mother corrected her. 

“A lilac..? Really? Mom?” Juliet couldn’t remember that part of the story, and she couldn’t tell if it was just something that her mother was adding now. I’ll have to ask Logan if he-

“And Hermes? Do you remember?” Her mother prompted her, reaching down and squeezing her hands. 

“H-Hermes?” Juliet sniffed as her mother nodded. “Yeah...he...rescued Io, right? Tricked Argos into shutting his eyes and...and stole her away?” 

“That’s right,” she gave her daughter a proud smile. “You remembered.” 

Of course I did, those… you loved those stories as much as we did. “Mom, I-” 

But another sudden switch occurred then, and Juliet was silenced as her mother’s thin arms wound tightly around her. “Don’t let him ruin you, Juliet. Stay you, my sweet girl.” 

“Who, mom? Who are you…” She hugged her mother back, turning her head to rest it on the woman’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of her hair. “Who are you afraid of?” 

..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  

She hadn’t gotten an answer from her then, but now, placing a shaking hand on the intricate doorknob, Juliet thought she knew who her mother was referring to.

If what I read was… she meant… Oh, mom… 

Opening the door, she stepped inside and turned slowly as her eyes raked over the contents of the room- the full bookshelf, the empty easel, the chaise lounge with the paisley patterned pillows. But it was the small, silver frame on the side table near the window seat and the photo in it that made the tears that she’d been holding back came spilling out. A few steps brought her close enough to reach out, fingertips brushing the bunch of tiny purple flowers before making contact with the cool metal of the picture frame. A sob broke free of her lungs as she picked up the picture, tracing the edge of the frame with the pointer finger of her free hand. 

He was always trying to protect me. 

She took the frame and crossed the room to sink into the chaise, leaning back into the pillows with the picture in her hands. “I’m sorry, Logan...I’m so…” a sob cut her quiet apology short and she forced her eyes shut, tears slipping from under the closed lids. The stories she told us… When she blinked her eyes open again, she turned her head to look out at where the lilac bush had grown back just as strong and full after the two of them had nearly demolished it with their small bodies and flailing limbs. They were about her and… and Dad and...and me and Logan. She was… another sob wracked her chest. She was trying to warn me. 

“Just like Logan was,” she whispered to the empty room that she’d avoided for so long. 

Setting the frame aside, she glanced over at the door to make sure that it was still closed and that no one had followed her before pulling her phone from her pocket and opening her email. Scrolling through, she found the one that she’d happened upon by accident in her father’s study; one she was certain that he nor her husband wanted her to see, so she had forwarded it to herself to give herself more time to process what it said. What it meant. 

We’ll make it look like a preventative move- come out strong and say that the new QA procedures are being put in place to assure guests that the kinds of things Logan was accusing me of couldn’t happen in our parks. Face it, Jim, neither of us thought he’d pull through from that last bender, but he did and we need to get on the right side of it while the iron is hot. 

She read through the excerpt that had shattered her world, each word that she read making her cringe more than the last. Why are you so hell bent on how you look if you haven’t done anything wrong, William? And… The second question only made her head swim even more. And if Dad...if he knows… then he knows that Logan wasn’t… I need to find out more information. I need to… I- 

She took a deep breath then, and thought of the letter she’d received a few weeks back from her brother, of the way that the elongated letters of his handwriting pleaded with her to reach out to him when she was ready to talk again. He apologized in more words than she could ever recall him using to express how sorry he was for how things fell apart. He asked her to please consider that what he’d told her was the truth. He promised that he’d never stop trying to protect her, even if she couldn’t understand what he meant. He told her that he’d earn her trust again, and that he’d work hard to keep it this time. 

Swallowing the rest of the tears she felt building, Juliet licked at her bottom lip, tasting salt. She looked down at the picture that her mother had cherished for all those years, and picked it up again, deciding then that it shouldn’t stay down here, locked away and out of sight. She decided to make her own promise to Logan- that she’d find a way to prove that her father and William were covering something up- something big, possibly bigger than what had happened to her brother in the park.

 I know I messed up, Logan. 

She wiped at her eyes and turned the frame over to undo the fastenings and pop the picture out. The photo paper was slightly yellowed at the edges, a sign of how much time had passed since things were carefree- for me. They were carefree for me, but he… Dad was always hard on him, wasn’t he? Tucking the photo into her pocket with her phone, Juliet stood and crossed the room to set the empty frame back on the table, next to the fresh cut lilacs that the staff had always brought into their mother’s room. 

That was him too, wasn’t it? Juliet couldn’t be sure, but she knew that she hadn’t said anything to the staff about their mother’s affinity for the soft purple blossoms, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it hadn’t been her father. He always… He always put us first, Mom and I. I...I see that now, and I’ll… I promise, Logan, I’ll find a way to fix this. 

“This time around, Logan, I’ll find a way to help you.”

.

.

.

Thank you a million times to all you fabulous artists! If you are an artist in the Ben Barnes fandom, or if you want to surprise an artist with a quick drabble, send me a message or link me to the piece of artwork that you would like me to write about. Let’s show these talented folks how much we appreciate them and the things that they create!

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[my-fan-side]

No.41 Having Little One wear their first formal wear. #Nessian

From this Prompt List: https://50-item-writing-prompts.tumblr.com/

Having Parties and Balls are not uncommon in the Night Court, especially in Velaris. Almost every Solstice and Equinox are celebrated with one, of course, among other Traditional festivities that the court was observing. Tonight, they will be celebrating the Winter Solstice and the High Lady of the Night’s Birthday. Nesta was setting up her little girl’s dress in the bed, as Cassian comes out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around their little warrior squirming in his arms. Their little three-year-old Illyrian daughter, Adella, with the dark wavy hair she got from her father and the grey-blue stormy eyes from her mother, was so full of energy despite being woken up from her afternoon nap. It was a fun filled morning for all the kids, building a snowman, making angel wings, and having a snow ball fight with her cousins. She’s so excited because she knows she’ll be wearing a beautiful gown for the party, just like the ones the princesses wears on the stories her mother read to her.

“Alright love, settle down. Mama will dress you up on the princess gown now.”  Cassian settled her daughter down by chair in front of the vanity table so Nesta can take over dressing her up. He kissed his child on her temple, while trying to wipe the towel over her body to dry her.

“Give her to me. Go and get ready yourself.” Nesta approached the father and daughter and took the towel from Cassian and set it aside, then took her daughter by the bed. Cassian can’t seem to take the smile off of his face from being amused to her daughter’s giggling and excitement. He then takes a good look at her mate, running her eyes across her body from head to toe. She’s still wearing a white bathrobe, but her hair is already fixed in her usual braided crown, and she already have a makeup on, not much, just that of what she usually wears.

“Well, not that I’m complaining, but you seem to be a little underdressed sweetheart.” Cassian smirks at his mate, wrapped her arms around her from behind as he nozzles on the side of her neck.

Nesta rolled her eyes and push her mate teasingly. “I’ll put my dress on, once I’m done with this one.” She took a hold of her daughter’s face, squeeze it gently and give her an eskimo kiss, which made the little girl snicker more. “It’s not going to take much time getting it on, we’ll both be ready when you’re done.”

“Okay, okay. I won’t take long.” Cassian said as he backed away slowly towards the bathroom.

“Right….! With your hair care ritual, we’ll probably be late to the party.” Nesta snorted.

“Ugh, you wound we sweetheart!” Cassian yelled humorously behind their bathroom door.

---

Adella is now dressed in her crimson red sleeveless ball gown, it has a bow at the waist level in the back. It is a V-cut backless, to give way to her growing wings. The dress is simple in style but the embroidered lace with sparkling glitters on the fabric made it look magical. Thus, with the matching red crown that now adorned her hair, that is braided just like her mothers’, the little girl twirls around her parent’s room feeling like a princess.

Meanwhile, Nesta watched her daughter adoringly and full of love through the vanity mirror as she put on her earrings.

“Papa! Papa! Look at me! Ella ish a Pwincess!” Adella run towards her father who is entering the room hiding something behind his back. Cassian looks so prim in proper with his black suit paired with a silk button down shirt in red, it seamlessly matches the color of Nesta and Adella’s attire.

“Maybe. But I think there’s one more thing that you need to become a real princess? Hmmm?” Adella look at her father confusedly. Not sure if she should be mad because he doesn’t agree that she is a princess. Or curious, on what does she still need to be one?

“And whash that, Papa?” In the end it was a mix of both, she put her small hands in her waist and glares at her father who is already kneeling down in front of her so they’ll be at eye level.

That look his little girl is giving him reminds him so much of Nesta, Cassian couldn’t help but burst out laughing.  “Well, my love, a princess has to have a shoe to dance with, right?”

Adella’s eyes widen at this, then she raised her skirt and looked at her bare foot. She looks back up at her father again with a tilt of a head, and then suddenly run to her mother side.

“Mama! My Shoe pwease!” Raising both arms with palms up towards her mother, so sure of herself that her mother will give her what she needs.

Nesta chuckles, pick up her daughter and settle her on her hip. “And what makes you so sure I’ve got your shoes?” She teased her daughter as she rubs her nose to the other. Adella laughs at her mother’s act, then framed Nesta’s face with both of her tiny hands.

“Then where’s my shoe?” the little girl asked with a frown. She’s so serious looking it’s so adorable.

Cassian then made a coughing sound that made his two favorite girls look at him. “Well, who else my love but yours truly!” He then kneels on one knee, and bow his head as he raises the shoe box towards them.

Nesta and Adella chuckles at Cassian’s antics. Nesta then puts her little girl on the bedside as Cassian approached them. He then presents the box to his little girl who can’t seem to make herself sit still. Slowly, he took off the cover of the box revealing a glittery doll shoes that matched the color of her dress perfectly. Adella’s eyes widen in awe as she saw the shoes and shrieked in anticipation. Her hands are clapping and her wings are fluttering energetically. Nesta sits down then beside her daughter, smile still plastered on her face.

After putting her shoes, Cassian stood up and kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Perfect! Now, you’re definitely a princess!” Adella looked at her feet wiggle it once, twice. Then jumps of the bed and twirls around the room, giggling and laughing, her parents laughed with her.

“Okay, okay. Everyone’s ready? Let’s go now! We don’t want to be late to the party.” Nesta then stood up and straightened up her dress before taking her daughters hand and lead the way out of their bedroom. She’s wearing a crimson mermaid cut dress, with embroidered lace and sparkling accents design, it is exactly the same fabric used on her daughter’s dress. The cut of the dress highlights her hourglass shaped figure. It has a square cut neckline that displays her perfect collarbones and ample chest. The sleeves are sheer, glistening and long as it reaches her wrist.

But before she got of their bedroom, Cassian reaches out to her elbow, pull her to his chest, and kissed her on the lips gently. “Have I told you already how stunningly beautiful you look tonight?” He whispered to her ear, his voice deep, like he was growling. It sent shivers down Nesta’s skin that made her gasped softly. She chuckles and step back a little and look at his mate’s eyes. There was love in there, in sincerity, and a little bit of lust if she’s not mistaken.

“You did. Two or three times, I believe. Now, pull yourself together, and kindly pick up the gifts for every one please. We still got a party to attend to.”  She’s still chuckling as she walks out of his reach, still holding on to their daughter’s hands as they continue to walk out of their house.

---

It was Adella’s first formal event to attend to. On the year she was born, she was just a few weeks old on winter solstice, she was carried by Nesta and is present at the party for a little while, but of course she can’t really dress up at that time, & she wouldn’t even be aware of it. Other festivities after that was celebrated but not as a Ball, not like this one. So, this year, Adella was very eager to attend the party, and her parents made sure that it will be a memorable night for her. The moment the little girl found out that on her auntie’s birthday, they would have to wear big and beautiful gowns, she keeps asking her mother about what she would wear. There was never a day since then that she fails to ask if that day is the day of the ball.

When they arrived at the Ball, almost every one was already in there. Mor was immediately on Adella’s side, gushing on how beautiful the little girl looks. Mor wouldn’t admit it, but among the three Illyrian kids in their family, Adella is her favorite. It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy playing with Rhysand and Azriel’s little boys, they’re very much energetic and literally took the breath out of her when they all play Hide and Seek. But with the little girl, she can play dress and make up, and that’s more her kind of game.

“Look at you! Aww you’re so cute and pretty!” She twirls the little girl admiring her outfit, squeezed her face and give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Auntie Mor! I’ve got pwincess dwess! Ella is a pwincess!” Adella’s shows off her dress to Mor with that charming grin just like his father. Mor can’t help but smile wider.

“Oh of course you are!” She gave the little girl a kiss on the forehead and look up to Nesta and Cassian, who have that same grin on her daughter. “She is sooo cute!” The little girl’s parents just laughed at their friend amusingly.

The rest of the Inner Circle pretty much did the same thing to the little girl. Well except Amren, who just says “Thank the Mother for Nesta’s genes, or she won’t be that adorable.” Cassian frowns and pouts at this while Nesta whispered to his ear “She’s got your strong wingspan and your raven hair. I love your wingspan and hair.” As she caressed his man-bun and then his talon making sure he understands what she meant. And oh he did, because that pout was wiped off of his face and was immediately replaced by a smug grin.

The night was filled with so much laughter and giggling. They all sang “Happy Birthday” for the High Lady of the Night. There were wines and vodkas for the adults, and sweet juices for the kids. Gifts were received and given. There were lots of teasing, and even reminiscing. But of course, the night wouldn’t be complete without some dancing.

---

“May I have your first dance, my princess?” Cassian made a curt bow in front of his daughter, offering his hands to her. Adella’s eyes grew wide and her mouth formed an “O” in awe.

“Yesh! Yesh! Yesh!” then she happily grabbed his father’s hand and practically dragged him on the dance floor.

Nesta adoringly look at her mate and daughter dance. They are beautiful and they are hers. And she thanks the Mother every day for bringing these two people in her life.

After a while, she caught Cassian’s eye. He stopped twirling his daughter and spread his arms towards his mate, an invite to join them at the dance floor. Nesta didn’t even hesitate. She went straight to Cassian’s arms, then he pulls up their daughter to his other arm and place her on his hips. He tugs both of them closer to him, and dance with the two female he loved most.

[hothian-snow]

Sparagmos: First Draft

To celebrate me reaching 32K with my WIP, here’s a bunch of drabbles which inspired the initial first draft. I might reuse one or two scenes, but not the stuff with Darth Zhorrid. Both Yen and her master has changed a lot through my second revision of the fic too, and so has my writing style. Enjoy!

Darth Kharopos knew damn well that he was intimidating. He must be, lest all the other Darths devour him whole. He was also acutely aware of the effect he had on Yennevyr. It was almost amusing, the sudden change in her posture, her back snapping straight the moment he stepped into the room. Her deference towards him, the soft words and lowered eyes. Was she eager to please, or eager to survive?

From her quick feet and mind, he thought it was the latter. Self-preservation was a necessary trait among the cutthroat Sith, but for his apprentices - his legacy - he wanted more. He thought with her keen eyes and her outsider’s perspective, she’d be able to see the Empire for what it was. To see beyond the rabble, beyond the rat’s race and see what truly mattered. Instead, her eyes were puffy and pink, the next morning they met during saber practice.

Pathetic.

And it wasn’t a one off occasion too. Every time she’d come back from a particularly grueling mission, her mind was elsewhere, her blows lacking the conviction he’d expect from an acolyte worthy of being called his apprentice.

Drawing his attention back to the current practice, he swung a saber at her, the saber deflected mid-swing by a well-placed parry. He stepped aside, and noted how her feet were firmly planted into the ground, readying the body to absorb the weight of a heavy thrust or jab. A defensive stance- again. Must he truly hurt her for her to finally switch to the offense?

The tip of her saber was shaking, her stamina running low.

With the ease of swatting a fly, Darth Kharopos knocked the saber out of her hands. Scowling, he walked away, not pausing to glance back..

*******

Something was different. Clearly, something had changed.

Yet, it was less of a change or a growth and more of a pot bubbling over, the pressure and the heat exploding, the fragile cage of a badly crafted glass teapot cracking, its jagged shards flying into the wall before smashing into sharp little pieces.

Something flared in her eyes and her single red blade came to life, slashing in his direction.

He stepped right and striked left. She jumped back, moving like a spooked jungle-cat, before bouncing back forward with an unexpected speed and thrusted her saber towards his form. He blocked her, catching her blade with the end of his own. Her stance buckled under his strength, and so she slid her saber away but not before suddenly twisting her grips - shifting form, right in the heat of combat, inches away from her enemy - and plunging the blade into where he stood. Darth Kharopos spun his double-bladed saber, creating a quick shield that deflected away Yennevyr’s weapon.

The weapon flew out of her hand.

He felt her clearly. Frustration. Loathing. Wrath.

Their force bond was never this strong, but now he could feel her closer than ever. The way her heart raced, the blood thumping in her ears, her ragged breath and barely held back sobs- it was a dam broken loose, her force presence like a whirlpool throwing the cold serenity of his mind into chaos. Decades of careful restraint and calculating control kept him from drowning in the waves of her emotions.

Yennevyr, with her lithe form and dancer physique, sent a butterfly kick towards his head. Darth Kharopos reeled back. He could’ve blocked her again, that he was more than capable of- but his senses were screaming, alarm bells ringing.

With that distraction - that uncharacteristic distraction, that daring, was so different from the cautious acrobat who used to dance in and out of his range - she summoned her saber back, the hilt smacking into her palm with a loud slap. Fluid like water, she leaped and swung the saber like a guillotine axe above his head. Eyes wide, Darth Kharopos raised his saber up to form a cover, digging his feet into the sand below as the impact hit him. Yennevyr was not relenting.

Her eyes were scarlet. Those amber orbs now glowed red, the color looking like freshly spilt blood against her snow-pale skin. It reminded him of the first time he saw a total lunar eclipse: the moon bled red, as if someone had stabbed its white soil and the wound began gushing glistening ruby.

He let her hit him.

*******

Despair was an emotion Darth Kharopos never experienced, not truly and certainly not personally. Whether that was an indication of mental strength or privilege, he didn’t know.

Lord Atala’s death hit them all hard; the empty space where his mother once stood still felt like a void. Darth Kratais second marriage with Darth Labrys could never fill that gnawing, missing hole, but the woman’s hands were tender and her gaze was warm and when she whispered words of comfort to him, it felt like he had a mother again. Her presence had gentled his father’s severe disposition, and when she brought about his half-sister - Tatyan - into the world, the younger Sith Pureblood felt like a tiny bird fluttering in his palms. She truly was worth protecting.

When his father passed, it felt like a bad dream had come again.

Except this time, mother was grieving and Tatyan was bawling and they all cried together.

“Never show weakness in front of outsiders”, Darth Labrys said. “But here, we’re family.”

Because of family, he’d never known despair.

He was used to inflicting it upon others, though.

Hearing prisoners beg for death, attempting to gouge their eyes out as if the act could wipe away the vision of seeing their loved ones writhing as lightning tore through them, was something he’d grown accustomed to. He saw it coming like a holofilm in slow-motion: the moment where a war veteran’s mind was about to break, their will and determination ready to be shattered into dust at just a single jab. He always made sure their descent into madness was quick- no need to prolong the suffering. Genuine torture was only reserved for the worst of his enemies. It was satisfying, forcing some arrogant Republic general to their knees and making them scream, or exposing some tough Jedi for the weakling they were, like ripping open a bandage to reveal the ugly pus beneath.

How then, had he become so numb to the agony of others, that he missed seeing the same signs in his apprentice?

She was in despair, so upset she wished she’d died.

The circular burns on her arms looked like the ones he was used to inflicting upon Republic foes. It was an easy interrogation technique: stamping a recently deactivated lightsaber onto bare skin, the still-hot metal like a sizzling brand. And when he gazed into her eyes (oh sweet Yennevyr, when was the last time he truly looked at her?), they were dead. Empty glass orbs that had given up on life, if only her heart would just stop beating and give up on her too.

“Do I disappoint you, my lord?”

There was no mockery, no snippy retort in her voice, only pain.

*******

“I’ve always wondered how the law would work out in the long run,” Darth Labrys said, her voice lilting through the holocall. She was referring to the law to bolster Imperial ranks with worthy slaves and aliens, the law which also applied to the Sith. “You can’t expect a slave or a foreigner with no background, no exposure to Sith culture or history to integrate smoothly into Sith society without intervention, much less demand top performances from them.”

Not to mention the consequence of overwhelming power suddenly awakening within someone never taught to wield it, Darth Kharopos thought. The dark side was intoxicating, and one could lose themselves to everything from bloodlust to misery.

“I’m not advising you to go easy on her… but do be understanding, Tyrkos.”

His mother warned that even with the best medicine or therapy available, it would take time, and heavens knew that the Sith journey was already difficult enough, requiring one to fall apart and be reborn from the ashes, to kill who you were for what you could become.

Trust between Sith, especially master and apprentices, was rare. Now, he doubted she’d ever place her faith in him beyond hoping to one day take his place.

*******

Is this how I die? Darth Kharopos thought.

Every breath felt like hot knives stabbing his lungs. The rebreather was dying on him, for he could taste soot in his mouth. Collapsed against the cool floor of his hideout, back leaning against a bloodied wall, his apprentice loomed over him. How embarrassing, for his apprentice to see him so helpless.

“What’s the meaning of this?” she cried out. “Master!”

He thought he’d take that secret to the grave, to ensure that the fallout was minimal. Sith Pureblood, heir to the Rosokor family, involved in a light-side conspiracy. Should he be exposed, the Dark Council would have his mother’s and sister’s heads.

He pleaded for her to understand.

And if she didn’t, he wouldn’t blame her.

Her left hand clutched his holocommunicator where the damning evidence of his treachery laid, and in her right hand was the scarlet lightsaber, poised for execution. In the months under his tutelage, she’d grown into a stunningly beautiful Sith assassin indeed.

He closed his eyes.

“Tell me how to help.”

In shock, his eyes snapped open.

Her eyebrows were scrunched up but whether in anxiety or concern, he could not tell. There was a flush in her cheeks, and wildness in her eyes. Against his every expectation, Yennevyr chose mercy. She chose a chance at the Light. She chose him.

Master, did you not choose me, on Korriban? You saw something in me. I see something in you, too.

*******

Yennevyr hated mopping up blood. She had watched her late father’s maids do it all the time, his underlings scrubbing a crime scene clean. She later played the role of the domestic servant, doing the same back when she was enslaved under the Hutts, whether it be with spilled drinks or bloodstains from a brawl. She wasn’t afraid of blood- the coppery stench just smelled revolting.

Her master bled liters, the liquid forming sticky pools beneath his broken body. Sealing the wound wasn’t too difficult once she found the medkit, although her clumsy handiwork would definitely leave a scar. What was even more concerning was her master’s breathing, the fact that it sounded agonizingly labored and worryingly irregular.

With effort, they managed to haul their way to the hideout’s medical wing before he slipped into unconsciousness.

When his armor was stripped away and it was only his form in plain robes on the simple bed, her master looked more exhausted than she’d ever seen him. Heavy fatigue was written all over his sleeping face. It reminded her of those times she woke up especially early to see the Kaasian sunrise, the soft orange peaking through grey, stormy clouds. Some days, she deduced how master had been running some secret errands the night before, and she’d spot him limping home, his feet dragging, with an uncharacteristic slouch burdening his usually proud posture. Logically, she knew her master was no more or less a person than her, but to glimpse him tired and worn out had shocked her.

She spent the night by his side, the implications of her actions becoming clearer with each passing moment.

To reform the Sith society from inside out, she thought. A lofty dream. When did I become such a cynic?

With curious eyes, she glanced at her master’s resting form, the sound of his still ragged breathing filling the room. She wouldn’t even need a lightsaber; all she had to do was wrap her hands around his neck, and squeeze. She wondered if suffocation felt like sleep.

Oh, will I ever see you this vulnerable again?

Instead, she gingerly placed a palm on top of his limp hand, entangling her fingers with his. His hand was warm.

*******

After the suspicious death of Darth Jadus, Darth Zhorrid - in her sick ways - sought to consolidate her position as a Dark Lord of the Sith.

As if the Council would stand her, Yen scoffed. After they’ve sucked her dry of whatever knowledge Jadus may have passed down to his daughter, she’s dead.

It was no secret that her master disagreed with many of the actions taken by Darth Jadus, but he’d always respected the chain of command, bowing whenever the Dark Councillor requested his presence, amicable before his superiors. This time, however, Darth Zhorrid asked for her master and would not expect anything less than absolute submission.

“Wait outside, Yennevyr. Do not interfere no matter what happens.”

Many may claim force cloaking to be an act of defense, like the Jedi Shadows who’d rather sneak past their foes than needlessly spill blood. Perhaps she truly was like that, in the past. Eager to run, to dart in and out unseen. Conflict-avoidant.

But a cloak was also a tool, like a viper’s green scales that blended into the grass, obscuring fangs and venom. To take it a step further: force cloaking was manipulation. It was to force upon someone a false visage, to bend the mind of onlookers to the point of them rejecting the evidence of their own eyes, denying the existence of a sword pointed at their head. On Korriban, Yen had figured out how to twist her force cloak, inverting it so that her opponents’ visions were plunged into darkness and the world became invisible to them.

It only took hearing her master scream for the first time for her cloak to become a dress.

The scent of ozone reeked through the semi-closed office door. By god, no matter how many times in the past she’d angrily fumed - fantasizing of sweet it would be to give her master a taste of his own medicine - actually hearing her master who had just barely recovered from his previous ordeal now screaming under the powers of some bratty Darth who probably did not even deserve that title...

Yen’s hands curled into a fist, and she was surprised by the anxious lump that formed in her throat. She took in a sharp inhale and when she breathed out, the Force coiled around her like serpentine tendrils, slick and cool. Shadows rested around her shoulder blades like a fashionista’s scarf.

Or for her enemies, a noose.

When her master stumbled out of Darth Zhorrid’s office, a hand clutching at his side, she took the opportunity to peer into the slit of the half-opened office door and caught the Dark Councillor’s sadistic gaze. Yen gave a smile.

*******

Yen had always been good at force cloaking. But this time, instead of projecting the lie of invisibility, she’d chosen an illusion- a glamour, a mirage. To project something false into the world required unwavering will and mastery over that image.

Her mask was fueled by hatred.

Never had she thought she’d one day hate anyone more that she hated the Hutts or herself, until she met Darth Zhorrid. That pathetic mix of insecurity and sadism was infuriating. She had read up on Darth Jadus’ treatment of his daughter. It took everything for her not to barge into that office and wring that sick woman by the neck and ask her if she thought she was the only one who had ever faced abuse. Everyone faced pain at some point in their life. Suffering was the story of all beings, especially so if you were Sith. Yet, when she hated herself, Yen only hurt herself. Unlike Zhorrid, she’d never tortured others as a way to lessen her own pain, to hide her weakness.

And for that, Yen wished Zhorrid was dead.

But not before providing use for her and her master, of course.

Wearing the Force - the fabric of the universe - as if it was a garment, was an act of complete domination. With a smile, she had sparked a flame of interest within Zhorrid. With a light touch of her fingers, she’d quicken or calm the Dark Lord’s pulse, the woman’s heartbeat hers to command at her pleasure. In a blink of an eye, Zhorrid would forgive her master for any misdeeds he’d supposedly done, and most importantly, Zhorrid would leave him alone.

Why pay attention to some grumpy old Sith when the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen was standing there in front of her eyes?

A drugged cupcake ready to be eaten.

Darth Kharopos felt his stomach sinking when he received the holocall requesting that Yennevyr go meet Darth Zhorrid in her chambers. His muscles tightened, as if readying for battle. He wasn’t scared of that snooty brat; anything she threw his way he could take. But Yen, his student, his ward, his protege, his apprentice-

She was smiling.

The Force swirled around her, draped all over her form like a dress blowing in the wind. It was as if she wore a robe of woven flesh, of slithering serpents and tendrils that wrap and cling and coil. There was a gleam in Yen’s eyes, her russet eyes mirthful, radiating confidence. The last time he remembered seeing his apprentice so self-assured was when he was bleeding on the cool tiled floors, her red lightsaber hanging over his head like a bloody guillotine.

“My lord, I am every bit your apprentice. Trust that you’ve taught me well.”

When Darth Kharopos was later summoned to Darth Zhorrid’s office, Yennevyr sat on Zhorrid’s lap like an overpriced poodle. What Zhorrid did not see was the undulating threads latching onto her, their ends sinking into Zhorrid’s skin like a snake’s fangs, or parasites whose teeth pierced her bloodstream, draining her dry.

“Ah, you’re here, Darth Kharopos,” Zhorrid said with a grin. “Very good, you look very nice indeed, perfect for the job.”

Darth Kharopos only nodded, his eyes glued to Zhorrid’s pale hand which stroked Yen’s hair as if she was some exotic pet.

“I need you to look into two places: Belsavis, and the Arcanum.”

Belsavis was a tightly guarded secret he was privy to knowing, but his heart skipped a beat when he heard the name ‘Arcanum’. The Emperor’s property. Jedis have died to get a glimpse of the space station, and there were words of a rogue Dread Master recently robbing the place. Was it even under Intelligence’s jurisdiction?

A squeal snapped him from his thoughts.

“So you do know about the Arcanum!”

Her voice went from a slimy purr to an abrupt shriek. He felt a hard shove and invisible cold fists pinning him to the wall. His legs hung in the air, and he glared at that wretched woman.

“My lord,” Yennevyr murmured, her doe-like eyes widening at Darth Zhorrid. “My master’s a Darth of Imperial Intelligence. Is it not his role to know all that is going on?”

The pressure released and soon he was free. Zhorrid made a noise of agreement, muttering ‘Yes, yes… you’re right, of course.”

Zhorrid began ranting, a semi-coherent monologue punctuated with giggles and sudden screeches on the unfairness of her fate and the need to prove her worth to the Dark Council. Before her anger boiled over, a force tendril planted soft kisses on Zhorrid’s lips, quieting the woman’s anxiety in one swift move.

When the Dark Councillor appeared distracted, Darth Kharopos broke eye contact and glanced at his apprentice. He suppressed a shudder, seeing the predatory glint in Yennevyr’s eyes. Everyday, they grew more scarlet.

You will drink my words, or I will pour them down your throat.

*******

Belsavis he took care of alone, but as per Darth Zhorrid’s orders, he allowed Yennevyr to accompany him on the mission to the Arcanum. It was perfect: with every eye glued to the young rising-star commander, a Sith not-yet-a-lord with the bewitching presence of a black hole, nobody noticed him slipping away, leaking whatever information he could find on the Emperor to Republic SIS. His heart thundered the whole way, but every time he looked at Yennevyr - black hair tied up in a bun, a saber and light armor ready for combat - he felt like he could breathe easy again.

The mission was a success. They tracked the thief, Lord Tagriss, down to Ilum. His dualsaber stabbed a hole in the Sith Lord’s chest, and he felt his apprentice’s pride flared through their bond the moment Lord Tagriss’ dead husk fell into the snow.

When they returned home, she was ready to be a Lord.

“From this day onwards, you are known as Lord Soteira,” he declared, his apprentice kneeling before him. “It means savior.”

His apprentice stood up. When she looked at him, something swirled in his chest.

You honed my blade and sharpened my edges until they are lethal. You scrubbed away the rust, and revealed the blood-soaked truth. Master, don’t feel guilty thinking you turned me into something I already wasn’t. I’ll try to reach for the Light as you want me to, my lord, but don’t pity me if I fail.

[alex-writes-things]

ginnyxhermione part 3- after quidditch

I wish I could say that in the night, she woke up crying and I joined her in the bed, and we drifted off to sleep, tangled together. But this morning I wake up very much alone, my head splitting with pain, to the school bell. As much as I want to bury my head back into the cushions- which have split beneath me, leaving a gap for my back so that my shoulders ache as if I’ve spent the night playing Quidditch- I drag myself up. Luckily, last night I wore my robes beneath my coat. They aren’t stained or ruffled more than I can manage.

“Good morning,” Hermione murmurs sleepily. I sharply turn to face her, almost tripping on one of the cushions. She looks up at me, all bleary-eyed and still stunningly beautiful, and watches lazily as I tie my hair into a ponytail. “We got very drunk last night, didn’t we?”

“Yeah.”

She laughs breathily. “I wish I had some Nurofen right now, I must say.”

“Nurofen?”

“Muggle medicine.”

I pull on my coat and scarf and tuck my hat and gloves into the pocket. “Come on, ‘Mione. Get up. Let’s go down to the hall and catch the boys before they leave without us.”

And I can’t stand it when you smile at me like that.

I gather up my stuff and am halfway to the door before I realise she isn’t following me. I turn back to see her sat on the edge of the bed, frozen with her hand over her mouth, staring right at me, her eyes wide.

“We- I- Oh, oh. Oh, Merlin’s beard. Oh, Ginny, I’m so sorry.”

She’s apologising. For kissing me. Because that isn’t supposed to happen; we’re not supposed to like each other. And yes, I think she does like me. It was in the way she kissed me- gently, like an angel- and in the way she looked so broken as she sobbed in my arms yesterday. Yes, she likes me. But it’s not supposed to be like that. I just say simply, “It’s forgotten.”

I won’t forget.

“Forgotten,” she repeats.

We won’t forget.

And then we walk down to the Great Hall for breakfast. The corridors are mostly empty, so I have time to run my fingers through my ponytail and kick some of the dried mud from my shoes. Hermione spends the whole time in stunned silence.

“You okay?” I ask before we step inside the hall.

She brushes her hair from her face. “Yes. Go on.”

Almost everyone looks up when we enter, some smirking knowingly. Have Harry and Ron told them all about last night? Surely not. And then I realise how bad it must look: neither of us returned to our dormitories last night, and now we rock up in dishevelled clothing to breakfast. At least the crowds haven’t arrived yet. Only the professors and various students from each house are still here.

“About time,” Ron mutters between a mouthful of toast as we sit down. “Hermione, what’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Harry snorts. “Remember when Nearly Headless Nick- he came right up through the table on our first day. Goodness, that was so long ago now.”

“Six years,” Hermione says wearily. Five years ago, I joined them at this table. I follow her lead and start buttering a slice of toast.

“What are we doing today, Ginny?” Harry asks, smiling across the table.

I blink. “Um, I don’t- how are you two so un-hungover?”

“I don’t think that’s a word,” Ron says.

“Oh, shut up. Mum loves me better, remember.”

“We aren’t as hungover as you because you’re a lightweight,” Harry says loudly, the sound shuddering through my head with a bolt of pain.

“All right, Chosen One.”

Harry sips his pumpkin juice defiantly. “Fine. We’ll have a game of Quidditch without you, then.”

“What makes you think I can’t play with a headache? You’re only the boy that caught the snitch in his very throat out of sheer determination!”

They all grunt in agreement- Harry more begrudgingly than the others- and after the quick meal (I couldn’t stomach more than half a piece of toast) we head out to the pitch for a game. I take Hermione on a quick detour to my dormitory for my new broom. I saved up for a year and finally had enough for the old Nimbus 2001 model. It’s my most prized possession and always will be.

“Ooh, I love this photo of you, Gin,” she says. “Actually- is that from the day we went swimming in the lake last summer?”

“Yeah,” I admit ruefully. “I just like the way the sun shines on my face.”

I only keep it here because you took it of me.

“You look beautiful.”

I swear under my breath. This isn’t going to be any easier with her not-so-subtly flirting with me left right and centre. “Thanks,” I say flatly.

-

Wind crashes against me like the churning waters of the lake, whipping my hair back. I keep my eyes on the quaffle in Harry’s grasp, lean forwards in a dive as he tosses it to Ron and in a moment of blind luck I manage to intercept it before my brother catches it.

“Bloody hell, Ginny, how do you always manage to catch those ones?” he shouts as I soar victorious over him and toss the quaffle into the middle hoop. Harry dives down and catches it before it lands.

“I’m a chaser. You’re not. It makes sense,” I say modestly. Harry laughs, doubtful. I hear Hermione screaming encouragement from the stands and spin my broom to face her with a smile. My hands almost slip from the handle as I see McGonagall standing beside her, grinning a rare grin.

“Oi, Harry, look,” I say, gesturing to our head of house. He nods, but his eyes are elsewhere, scanning the stands, the disappointment in his face growing by the second. “What are you looking for?”

“Oh- nothing. Just checking.” Checking for what? Who’s he got his sights on this time? Last time that I knew of him crushing on anyone was Cho Chang in fifth year. Something seems off. Not that he would tell me whom he liked without my asking. I make a mental note to squeeze some details out of him later.

As I soar above the pitch, I let my mind wander. The rest of the student body will be arriving later on today, at about six o’clock in the evening, but before that we’ll head back inside for lunch and spend the evening tidying and preparing our dorms. The only problem with being the only one in the room for two weeks is that somehow all of my stuff ends up strewn across the floor and over the others’ beds.

I’m looking forward to Luna’s return. We’ll probably still hang around with Harry, Ron and Hermione most of the time, and Neville will be here too, though he seems to spend more time out in the greenhouse or with his new Hufflepuff friend Abbott.

I’m not looking forward to spending less time with Hermione. Over the Christmas break we’ve grown closer than ever and even though I know it’s probably for the best that we don’t talk much- to stop the feelings from taking over- I still crave her companionship. Sometimes I have doubts about her reciprocation, but then I catch her staring right at me with a dreamy smile, and I just know.

I can’t believe how many people just aren’t gay.

Hermione approaches me in the changing room. Thankfully, I’m fully clothed, but I still haven’t changed out of my robes. I fiddle with my shoes as she stands in the doorway. “You played well.”

“Wasn’t a match,” I say, and look up at her with a smirk.

“I know, but still.” She twirls her hair around her finger awkwardly. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you want to go up to the astronomy tower tonight? There’s supposed to be a really clear sky for stargazing and I know we stayed up late last night but I’d love if you could- If you wanted to come with me,” she gushes.

“Of course! That sounds great.”

Her face lights up with a grin. After a moment of awkward silence, I clear my throat and she blushes fiercely, finally taking it as a hint to leave. I shower and dress quickly, stow my broom in the broom shed and walk up to the castle. Before I cross the threshold, I take a quick glance over the empty grounds, Hagrid’s currently vacant hut (he’s away in Romania visiting Charlie and his dragons) and the shimmering lake.

[bananashemmo]

Will You Marry Me?

Pairing: Y/N/Calum

Rating: All

Request: No

Words: 2.000+

Summary: Inspired of a viral video, Calum proposes to Y/N at his friend’s wedding right after she catches the bridal bouquet 

“How did you convince me to do this?” You laughed into Calum’s shoulder, chin resting on top of it even though you almost weren’t tall enough.

“I have my skills.” He whispered into your ear, his warm hand embracing your small one.

“You always promise me to save me a dance for the night.”

You looked into his brown warm eyes, seeing your smile in his reflection. He was having a grin on his face and you shook your head slowly, only smiling wider.

Your eyes glanced towards the seats by your table, wishing to be back with a glass of white wine. You weren’t quite the dancer, you never really had been.

Calum wasn’t either but he just loved the feeling of getting to dance close and swing you around. He always said that a song kept magic and it was expressed through dancing close.

The tables were covered with lilies, glasses of wine and napkins with engraved names on the top of it printed with gold. Everything was either in white, light yellow or gold. It was a beautiful combination.

The jazz band playing in the background tuned up the music to the song they were playing. You could feel Calum’s hips rock back and forth, he almost wanted to snap his fingers to the beat.

Sometimes he just couldn’t contain it when there was a great bass line. Safe to say jazz was one of his favorite secret music genres. Especially because the bass really came to its peak.

You smiled carefully at him and looked towards the bride and groom dancing with each other. A close friend of yours and his now wife. They looked like they were smiling all over their face like they never wanted to forgive this moment.

You wouldn’t either.

Calum was gazing towards them as well, smiling and winking with his eyebrows when his friend looked towards them. An old one from high school whom he still kept in touch with.

“Have I told you how stunningly beautiful you look tonight?” He gazed back to you, smiling.

“A couple of times, yeah.” You grinned, closing your eyes when his lips found your forehead and gave you a small peck.

“That’s because I can’t tell you enough how beautiful you are.”

You smiled and leaned your head on his chest, feeling how your cheeks rose into a deep shade of red. Even to this day, years of relationship he still managed to make you blush like a teen.

He never grew tired of the compliments. He even was true to his words. You were becoming more and more beautiful for each day you were together.

You weren’t the only couple on the dance floor.

It was seconds after the bride and groom had their first dance that Calum grabbed your hand and said it was time to dance.

At first you had tried to protest. You preferred just sitting by the table and talk, you had never been the one to stand up when the music came up and give it all you got.

You’d rather see others do it.

That wasn’t a possibility when you were with Calum. Every shot he got to take you to the dance floor he did. He just loved the music, he loved enjoying it and with his favorite person in the whole world, he felt complete.

Just like he was doing right now.

The smile on his face was worth everything. Even if it meant you had to test your limits, but you’d do it every single day just to see him happy.

“You’ve learned some new moves, haven’t you?” You grinned and he was quick to nod.

It wasn’t something you had wanted to learn, but Calum had even agreed without your permission to take some dance lessons. For what you didn’t know, at first he was going on his own but you felt it was sad that you weren’t with him.

He always knew the way to make you convinced. He just needed to use a little bit of guilt and you were wrapped around his little finger.

It was an easy way to do it. Using the card that he would be standing there all alone and making a fool of himself. The way his puppy eyes were looking at you was just enough to tip you over the edge.

You couldn’t help but fume when he was being like this but then again you could just gain some self-control.

You had never asked him why he wanted to learn how to dance. It was just the way Calum lived, he did things spontaneously. You still remembered the summer where he spent days working at the local coffee shop down the street. Not because he loved coffee but because he just wanted to blend in between people and appearance something new.

Safe to say, the coffee shop earned a hell of a lot of money that summer. You doubted it was because of Calum’s coffee skills.

“It’s for moments like these I appreciate we take those dance classes.” He whispered in your ear, his hand soft against yours.

You looked at the tattooed fingers, seeing how they disappeared between yours. You noticed the small letter that was on his thumb. A new one, something you had said was a little bit stupid but Calum didn’t care.

He wanted the front letter of your name. And when he wanted something, it was hard trying to tell him about it.

“Why,” You giggled, “Because you’re afraid someone will judge you for your dancing?”

“No, no.” He laughed as well and shook his head.

He looked down at you lovingly and bit down on his bottom lip.

You looked at him waiting for an answer but he decided not to say anything. Instead, he just winked with his right eye and let go of you to clap at the band when the song was over.

You furrowed your eyebrows for a short second but still with a smile on your face. Deciding to let it go you clapped as well, the attention now towards the jazz band who had stopped playing.

“Now that was another song written by the band,” The man in the tuxedo explained, he was wearing black hair that was pulled back and looked a little bit young compared to the rest of his band.

He probably looked around your age. You leaned your back against Calum’s chest and he wrapped his arms around you to continue clapping.

“Now, I think it’s time for all the ladies to gather around.” The lead singer announced and for a second you looked confused.

Calum instantly took a step back and disappeared between the many ladies that were starting to gather up. That was when you realized what was going to happen as the bride grabbed the bouquet she had been using at the church.

“Cal-, where did you?” You looked just a little bit confused but replaced it with an awkward laugh.

The many women from the wedding party gathered around you, standing with excited faces. You looked over at the bride who was smiling over at her husband and she gave him a glimpse before she turned around to face her back.

“Oh, shit.” You mumbled when you could feel people start to push, some seemed rather desperate to be married. Why, you didn’t really understand, this always seemed like some sort of superstitious tradition.

“Are you ready?” The bride just glimpsed over her shoulder and everyone yelled yes in agreement.

You nodded your head also and prepared your hands. You were standing in the middle so if she made a perfect throw, you would be able to catch it.

God, you could already picture Calum’s face.

“One, Two, Three.” Your eyes widened trying to focus when the bouquet was thrown and you prepared that everyone would literally run into each other wanting to get the chance.

But that was when you felt the wind almost gush as they all stepped back and your face almost looked more confused than before when the bouquet landed in your hands.

“Oh my god,” You mumbled under your breath, looking between everyone who was clapping in their hands excited.

The bride turned around and clapped her hands, eyes just as excited as everyone else.

That was when you heard the sound of someone knocking on a microphone.

“How did that feel? That adrenaline of catching something that seems like a fairy tale.”

You furrowed your eyebrows confused, quickly recognizing Calum’s voice. But you couldn’t see where he was standing or where in the hell he had managed to get a microphone.

“You probably look confused right now. That just means you didn’t expect it. You usually always call me out on surprises. But this time, you’re the one left in wonder.”

You looked over your shoulder trying to find the source of his voice. It was impossible but everyone was looking at you with a smile. Like they all had known from the beginning.

“I know it takes a lot to steal the spot from the bride and the groom at the wedding. Luckily enough they are the ones I call my best friend. Just like you are and always have been. The best.”

Your cheeks flushed in a deep shade of red. You almost wanted to respond but you kept it in and waited for him to continue.

“The day we met I still remember. It’s just as special as it is today because it’s the same date. May, 23nd. Just four years ago we met and from that final moment, I always knew that you would be the one.”

He cleared his voice and suddenly everyone was looking towards the stairs that lead to the first floor. That was where he had been hiding and the spotlight that had been on you was suddenly on him instead.

“I’ve always told you that no matter what would happen, it would always be us. No matter how many tours we’ve been through, concerts, holidays, school, college and what else. We’ve kept each other hand in hand, showing that nothing should beat us out. I know it’s been four years since you said yes to me the first time, wanting to be my girlfriend. But here I am asking loud enough another time. Just to see if the answer is the same.”

That was when you realized what was suddenly happening. Everything made sense and when he walked down the stairs and headed towards you, your heart skipped a beat.

He fished something out from inside his blazer and you couldn’t help but feel your knees weaken.

“Oh my god,” You mouthed, not wanting to say it out loud.

He smiled widely by your reaction and stopped when he was right in front of you.

“Don’t be scared,” He whispered with a wink. He knew your reaction was fully in surprise, not in shock. He knew you were bobbling inside with all the excitement you possibly could have.

“So I’m asking you, Y/N Y/L/N.” He kneeled down in front of you and opened the red velvet box to reveal a ring. One, you had looked at almost a year ago but Calum had mentioned you needed to wait.

This was your moment.

“Will you marry me?”

It made the whole room holler even though you hadn’t answered yet. They had all been standing and waiting for Calum to ask, it was the reason why so many had been smiling at you tonight.

“Of course I will,” Your hand came up in front of your mouth almost to not suppress a hiccup, smiling so widely your cheeks were hurting.

This time people were almost shouting in excitement when Calum grabbed the ring and placed it on your finger.

You fell down to your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for such a compassionate kiss he had to hold you around the waist to make sure that you wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“I love you so much I can’t believe this,” You mumbled into his ear, feeling your heart beat so loudly it was vibrating through your body.

“I love you too,” He whispered back, his hand coming up to touch your cheek and caress it.

“You and me, forever.”

[wiirttwood]

✏️ wirt x marie

SEND ME “✏️ + a ship“ or “headcanon + a ship” for three ( or more ) random headcanons I have for that ship! @mariechatxo

Wirt was 1000 times more nervous than he let on when Marie came into his classroom that time. He has many people who comes and goes, but it isn’t every day in where someone as stunningly beautiful as Marie walks through his doors and already knowing who he was at that. And the fact that she did know who Wirt was? Yep, he was already done for and he hadn’t even gotten the chance to ask for her name in return yet.

To this day, he still can’t figure out which is more embarrassing. The fact that his students were boasting about him to another teacher or said other teacher had taken the time out of her day to seek him out because of it. Like, Wirt is very touched that his students think highly of him, but it is also kinda mortifying that they would gush about him to another one of their teachers. But then, he finds it flattering that Marie was interested enough to the point in where she wanted to know him herself? Him. The man whose name literally sounds like wart!!!

They went out for a few drinks not long after. To get to know one another a little better and all that junk, but there wasn’t supposed to be anything more after that. But they ended up having a wonderful time, and then one outing became another and then another, and before they knew it, going out for drinks turned into actual dates.

And let's face it, Marie would be the one putting on all the moves when it comes to this relationship and Wirt would let her do so willingly. He likes that she knows what she wants and can he help it if he finds himself smitten at the fact that she wants him? Certainly there were better potential partners than him, but alas, Marie never lets him think otherwise.

Marie seems like the physical and touchy type, so I would not be surprised if their relationship is filled with that. Multiple kisses between them at any and every point, them holding hands, his arms always being around her, and just Wirt blushing furiously at it all. Especially at first, because he isn’t one for pda and he would be the type who would mumble about how they shouldn’t be like this around the students, but would not bother to stop Marie at all when she gives him that goodbye for now kiss before she leaves for work herself.

A lot of romantic and cheesy dates, with majority consisting of them having candle light dinners, and the pair playing and singing to one another. Wirt in particularly enjoys playing his violin and clarinet to Marie’s singing, as her pitch goes quite perfectly to his playing. Also, piano duets.

Their mutual students gushing and cooing at them while also patting themselves on the back for bringing the two together. Wirt doesn’t want to assume that all their gushing about him was a ploy to set him up with Marie, but if it somehow was? Can he really be mad about that. 

Love notes, filled with either poetry Wirt had written or lyrics to an upcoming song he is planning to write about her. And sometimes, if he has yet to see Marie that day and he knows that one of his students will, he would ask them to pass the note to her that way she could always remember that he’s thinking about her. Their students likes to tease him for it, but it’s a price Wirt is willing to pay.

Romanic pet names. Like referring to her as the the star of his eye or the harmony to his heart or something ridiculously cheesy like that.

They would overall be like a power musical couple who are like super romantic with one another because that’s what Marie deserves, all the romance!

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Mood Swings

Thanks to @shasta627 who first gave me the idea from talking about KP and EoA character similarities, and where one of the quotes from KP’s Emotion Sickness pops up here. Also thanks to @lostbutterflyutau for inadvertently helping me with her post about who Carla inherited her physical traits from. So first time writing from Victor Delgado’s perspective, exciting. Also this is all pre-EoA Delgado relationship where I imagine that Ash had dark hair and eyes before becoming a malvago and obviously, their relationship is not that rocky as it is now. Also bits of foreshadowing, see if you can spot it. Enjoy what was originally a comedic, but now surprisingly fluffy story. 

Victor was a tiny bit scared to leave his house.

This was not an unusual occurrence, being a thief on the run led him to be wary of leaving his hiding space for various reasons. The outside world held the guards that were no doubt hunting him down, some enemies that he may have backstabbed in order to save his own hide, as well as the potential to bump into vicious wildlife in the chance he took refuge in the dense forests.

But his fear of leaving, even though he very much wanted to leave, was from a different source.

A source that had been scaring him for the past 8 months with her unpredictable mood swings.

His pregnant wife, Ash.

“Overreacting! Overreacting! How can you tell me that I’m overreacting!” Ash cried, flinging the splintered wooden pieces of what was formerly a priceless Maruvian god statuette to the ground to collapse on the closest chair available. Her brown eyes already watering with brimming tears.

Victor tried to amend the damage done so far. “It’s just, you never seemed to care about that statuette much before. Remember when we stole it in Paraíso. We were about to be caught by the police and you said we can throw away some minor things like that statuette.”

“I’ve grown attached to it, okay.” Ash sniffed, clearly trying to hold back the tears, “I’ve been staring at from the couch during siestas and it helps me fall asleep when the stupid baby is kicking too hard. This is so like you. You never think about how I feel. First you break the statuette like a clumsy oaf and now, you’re leaving me to go join your idiotic buddies to play poker because you can’t stand to be with me. Even though I’m the one doing all the work and carrying your child.”

Victor sighed and went to sit in front of Ash, gently grasping her hands he reminded her, “I’m not playing poker with my buddies. The Capoto gang are not my buddies. We teamed up with them while we’re staying here, and part of that includes me going away to go steal stuff. I’m stealing stuff. Like gold and even those old texts you like, the ones with all the evil spells remember. We like evil, right?”

Ash yanked her hands away from him and buried her face in her arms on the table, “You’re leaving me in my time of need. I’ll never forgive you for this. Ever!”

As tempted as Victor was to leave and go do the heist like he needed to do, he just couldn’t leave her crying like this. Especially if he didn’t know this was going to put her in an even worse mood when he returned. If there was something that he had learned about pregnant Ash in the past 7 months, it was that it was best to agree with whatever she said even if it was wrong and ridiculous and plain confusing.

“Ash, I’m sorry that I broke the statuette, and I’m sorry that you have been feeling that I’m neglecting you. I’ve been doing double the work so I feel entitled to be tired and forgetful but you’re pregnant so you’re even more tired than me… I guess what I’m saying is that I’ll try to think a little more about what you’re going through.” 

Ash lifted her head to look at him, frustratedly wiping away her tears, “It’s not that big of a deal, really. You’re right that I’m overreacting, it’s just that I hate this!”

Victor didn’t have to ask what “this” was. The pregnancy that was consuming every aspect of their lives.

Admittedly, Victor always wanted a family. Yes, his first love was money. With all the money in the world he could do whatever he wanted and people wouldn’t be so quick to put him down and disrespect him as they had when he was a kid. 

“Pay attention, Victor, it’s not like your trickery will get you anywhere in life. You need to be smart.”

“That’s a cute idea, Victor but I think we need someone who has more expertise. Not just a kid’s imagininings.”

“You don’t have a clue what you’re saying, Victor. But you’re just a teen, you don’t know about life.”

He still felt a surge of bitterness when he thought of the glory and fortune that would have come with being number 2 in Avalor if that witch Shuriki and Esteban had kept their part of the deal and hadn’t banished him.

But after that money he wanted a wife and children behind him. That was the ultimate status of happiness to him. Money and a family. It showed how he had it all.

So when it turned out Ash’s mysterious month long food poisoning was actually the signs of morning sickness, Victor was secretly thrilled. He may not have as much money as a king but he certainly could steal it from the king, and now he had a beautiful wife and a child on the way. It was like he made it.

Was Ash as happy as he about the news? No. Though Ash wasn’t entirely against children, she wouldn’t be too disappointed by never having one either. Her main priority in life was to get rich, powerful and to improve her fledgling magic power so she could achieve her goals. And until she became the malvaga she wanted to be, she didn’t plan on getting pregnant.

Until she did.

Everything changed. They had to find a more permanent dwelling since running as fugitives would have caused too much stress for the child. They had to start spending their small hoard on buying a proper crib and other necessities rather than just forging out in the wilderness, away from the long arm of the law. Everything they stole, a profit had to set aside for the future child. One good thing that came out of thinking of all things baby was that they got married. Victor knew it was a bit old-fashioned, but he still remembered his parent’s disparaging remarks about children out of wed-lock and thought it might be easier to blend in if they presented themselves as a legally married family rather than a trio of runaways.

Also, as Ash got bigger, Victor had to step up and deal with double the workload. Not that he minded, if that was what needed to be done for the sake of their child, he would get it done. It was Ash the one who had a problem with it. She wanted to keep her usual independence and join the heists, do her share, and plan strategy even though she was in no shape to do so and most recently, the mere smell of cigar smoke caused her to hurl on the spot. Ash hated to be out of control, and waiting for others to do work that she thought she could do better at. In fact that was one of the things Victor most admired in his wife, how she would do anything it takes to get what she wanted and no one could stand in her way. Now, half of Victor’s morning was devoted to arguing with her over what she was or was not capable of doing and it was draining for both.

“I used to be intimidating and powerful and now look at me. I’m tired of all this crying. I never cried when I was a child, and now that I’m having a child, it’s like I can’t stop. I don’t like it.” Ash ranted, a bit of her old fiery anger returning as she talked and ran her hands through her dark hair, 

“I don’t like it either.” Victor agreed, “I hate seeing you cry.” Ash’s anger faded instantaneously, and she pulled him into an awkward one-armed hug when the baby bump prevented them from hugging normally, “You hate seeing me cry? That’s so sweet. How did I ever get so lucky to have you?”

Victor couldn’t help but blush from the praise. Compliments were very rare coming from Ash, she was always so no nonsense and focused when it came to stealing, and sabotage and staying one step ahead of their many pursuers.. It was rarer still with all these mood swings that left her angry and weepy which could change on a dime. But still, even after all their fights and disagreements, he knew that they were solid enough to stay together. She was the only one who was as cunning enough as he to survive and thrive in this fugitive life and strong enough to do it beside him. He couldn’t imagine life without her.

Taking advantage of the moment, Victor massaged her shoulders, “If you want, I can make you some pan dulce when I get back.” Victor had heard that women’s taste buds tend to change when they get pregnant, and the things they liked tasted disgusting and they craved strange delicacies. Luckily for him, Ash’s pregnancy only seemed to make her crave for Victor’s food and he could always smooth over her bad moods with the promise of stew or dessert.

Unexpectedly, Ash’s mood soured again, “No. Stop giving me pan dulce. It will only make me more fat.”

Victor felt a coil of fear at that statement. It was never a good sign when Ash said that. He always made the mistake of hesitating or saying the wrong thing which usually led to a harsh interrogation about his “wandering eyes” and that he was lying when he said she wasn’t fat.

“You’re not fat, mi querida, you’re pregnant, and even so you’re still one of the most beautiful, stunningly sexy women I know. Sexier than anyone else in Paraiso.” Victor gushed. 

“Sexier than the queen?” Ash asked unbelievingly.

“You are always sexier than the queen, and any other women we come across. Always. I mean, remember that one night in Cordoba when we found those hot springs?”

Ash’s pout faded and her mouth curved into a sultry smirk, “Mmm go on.”

“Remember how we had been trying so hard to deny the attraction between us and kept taking separate baths. But that night, you called me to you. I swear the moonlight was made to highlight your gorgeous face. Ah, the water barely covered your chest. It was painful knowing that your marvelous body was underneath the water and yet I still couldn’t see it, or touch it.”

“But you did..” Ash sing-songed.

“Well I couldn’t stand there and just stare at you. I needed to get bathed too.” Victor retorted with mock indignance before smoothly segwaying to a new idea, “You were so hot that night. Perhaps...maybe after I make you the pan dulce, we can have fun with those rose-blossom potions that you’ve been magicking up, the ones for extra sensitivity? We can have bubbles in the tub and I’ll message you, my amazing malvaga queen? Wait till I have my lips on your skin and kiss your neck and go down lower and lower..”

“Oh, darling, don’t stop!” Ash purred before pulling him into an intoxicating kiss. For a brief moment, it was like he was back in the Córdoba springs. It was just heat, passion, her and him and no one else in the entire world that could stop them until he pressed up against her stomach.

The bump was a stark reminder of reality and what he was supposed to be doing. Stealing the Ramirez fortune with the Capote gang so he can get enough profit to buy whatever baby supplies they needed.

Victor pulled away breathlessly, trying to gather his thoughts into a coherent sentence that wouldn’t offend Ash into another statuette throwing mood.

“Ah ah ah. After the heist, and after the pan dulce. I’ll give you a night you won’t forget.” He winked taking special pleasure in Ash’s surprised face before turning to the door.

“Victor I need you.” Ash cried out just as Victor placed his hand on the doorknob.

Victor inhaled deeply to hide his exasperation in the delay. The Capotes really did not like to be held up waiting.

Victor turned and forced what he hoped to be an understanding smile, “And I’ll be here whenever you need me just not for the next five hours, okay? After this heist I’ll stay with you as long as you-” “No, you don’t understand you idiot. I need you because my water just broke.”

Victor felt the world go dim and into tunnel-vision. Victor wanted to argue the fact but he could see it was undeniable. A tell-tale wet stain spread from Ash’s grey dress to the floor and her eyes were wide with panic.

“I--but--I I- we. No no no. Not-how-now?” And the world went dark for a silent 40 seconds.

THUNK 

“Ow!” Victor clutched his head from the unexpected thunk of pain. He blurred looked around and saw what had hit him. A wooden eye from the former statuette.

“Did you just throw this at me?” Victor demanded. 

“I can’t bend over and shake you awake. I had to.” Ash snarled back, immediately reminding Victor of the situation at hand.

“How is this pos...but you aren’t due for another month!”

Despite the overwhelming fear Victor was feeling at the moment, he also felt a jolt of excitement. This was it. They were finally going to have their baby! 

“Yeah, well-” 

“We’re going to be parents!” Victor exclaimed, still feeling a bit lightheaded, he steadied himself by gripping Ash’s hands.

“Yes, we’ve established that we’re going to be parents for the past seven months. You need to take me to the midwife.”  Ash snapped.

“I-I I do? I mean I know I do. I- well. How? I thought you were going to give birth next month, I haven’t stolen a horse for us yet.” Victor stammered, panic beginning to fully settle in.

“The Capotes must have one. Take me to them.” Ash commanded, straining to push herself out of the chair.

Victor helped her out the door, moving as fast as they could in an agonizingly slow shovel-huffle combination punctuated by stops when Ash’s contractions overtook her.

It was a mile to get to the agreed hideout of the Capotes but for Victor, it felt like the location was 50 miles away and they were running out of time.

Victor saw the cave entrance and what a lucky break, several horses grazing contentedly in front of it. They wouldn’t even have to contend with the Capotoes, they could just steal it.

Victor let Ash lean against a nearby tree, and roughly dragged the horse to her, urging it to keep its frantic neighing down.

Just as Ash grabbed the reins, she sank to her knees, Arrgghh.” “Ay dios mio. Is something wrong? Is it happening now?” Victor helped her up as she clung to him like a drowning victim.

“No, no not now. But the contractions are getting closer,”  Ash panted, and shrieked again.

“What the hell is that screaming about?” A gruff voice barked from the cave rolling away its stone entrance to reveal a wizened old man and two young bodyguards.

“Delgado, what is the meaning of this? Why do you have your lady here?” Even though it was a fruitless tactic to get sympathy from these men, Victor frantically told the truth, “She’s in labor. We need to go to the midwife now.” “Listen to me. That horse is my property and I don’t intend to give it to any pregnant girlfriend of a disposable partner. Hand it over or I will slit your throat.”

“NO! You listen to me. Give us that horse or I will have Victor hold you down so I can give birth on you!” Ash glared, stunning the elder Capote into silence with that strange and graphic threat. 

Victor wasted no time, pulling out a saber that he always kept hidden in the interior of his jacket and nearly slashed the neck of a younger bodyguard, giving Ash to struggle onto the horse’s back.

The lead Capoto was backing away from the fight with a sly smirk as both of his men brought out their double-edged swords when Victor heard Ash yell out, “Leviosa!”

The two bodyguards levitated and hit the cave wall.

Victor gratefully smiled at her weary, sweat-stained face and ran to join her on the horse. He sat in the back, keeping her safely on the saddle as he handled the reins, urging their horse to go the needed 4 miles to town.

From then on, everything went by Victor in a rush. Bursting through the small shack where the midwives congregated with other couples and pregnant women, settling into a shabby room near the back of the house with a straw mattress and a basin of hot water, Ash gripping and cracking two fingers in his hands as the screaming, cursing, and crying enveloped all his senses.

“PUSH! PUSH! THAT’S NOT A PUSH, THAT’S AN EXHALE! COME ON, ONE MORE TIME! PUSH! YOU CAN DO IT!”

Then the world slowed and clicked into place as he saw his baby girl for the first time.

The midwife held her tiny body up long enough for them to see the downy mess of dark brown hair, and her small fists scrunched up, pumping the air as she made her first breath and her first cries.

Victor’s heart swelled and he went speechless. Nothing could describe the magnitude of what he was feeling.

He looked to Ash who always seemed to know what to do or say but she looked at him with the same stunned face that he felt.

“We made that. That’s our daughter.” Victor whispered, gulping back the tears that were welling up but he surrendered to their falling after Ash wordlessly smashed her face against his chest and sobbed.

They held onto each other, trying to pull themselves through the jumble of emotions and adrenaline that was rushing through them. Everything was different now.

The midwife returned with their daughter bundled up in a light purple blanket, “Here she is, all cleaned up. May I just say, you have a-”

“Give her to me. She’s mine.” Ash interrupted, impatiently holding her arms out.

Victor didn’t blame her, he wanted the midwife to leave so he could be alone with his wife and adorable little girl.

It was strange yet so right to think that. His little girl. Hours ago that was just a hypothetical. His little girl. He had tested out the thought a couple of times but it never fit. But this was real. It was so real and so very precious.

“She looks like you.” Victor cooed, cautiously touching the soft hair on their snoozing daughter that was the exact same shade as the woman cradling her. Victor felt an irrepressible smile crossed his mouth and thought he wouldn’t be able to contain, and honestly, he didn’t want to. He was a dad.  

“She has your...you’re right, she mainly looks like me.” Ash agreed, studying their daughter fondly.

They held their breath as the baby stirred, daringly opening her eyes into a squint. Victor swore he could see the color of violet of her irises which only made him more in awe of this tiny creature. Regal violet eyes.

“What do you want to name her?” Ash asked, not taking her eyes away from the small bundle.

Victor settled himself into a more comfortable sitting position, craning his neck over the crook of Ash’s shoulder so he could look, “What about Carla? It’s a regal name and-“

“Oh, oh,” Ash gasped when Carla suddenly waved her small hand before touching Ash’s nose and mouth. The effect completely melted her, and for the first time in Victor’s life, he heard Ash squeal, “She touched me!”

“Me next.” Victor held out a pinkie for the little girl to grab onto which she did handily, making a gurgling noise that sounded like a small crow of victory. Of his hand and his heart that was being claimed a little bit more by her every second.

“Aw, Carla.” Ash whispered under her breath, “Carla. That’s perfect for her. I love her so much.”

“Me too, I don’t know how that’s possible. I-“ Victor trailed off. He couldn’t describe it. He had a new goal now, he would upend the world and drain entire treasuries to keep Carla safe and happy. Everything he’d do, he would keep her in mind every second, every day. His heart felt full to bursting with a new, unending sort of love and warmth and he thanked the gods above for his new baby daughter.

“I have so much to teach you.” Ash pressed a kiss to Carla’s forehead as the baby began to drift off to sleep.

Victor watched Carla, studying her cute face as she dreamt and yawned before pressing his own kiss on the top of her forehead, “I hope I can keep you happy.”

Everything changed.