#and that their names were both rocks/gems

[thsc-scattered-stars]

(ooc)

Are they related to Opal?

Nope! None of my thsc oc's so far are related to each other.

[angelsluva]

promise - Hamzahthefantastic

💌: fem reader + sfw!

Your name lived in Hamzah's head 24/7. You were always on his mind, It was crazy. He'd do anything for you. You had been revealed to the fans after the long documentary they dropped. Since then, he's always mentioned you.

You brushed makeup onto the apples of your cheeks as you were getting ready to go spend the day with Hamzah. He had texted you prior for you to get ready. You heard the front door open as you slid into your coat.

"Babee" he sang as he noticed you all dolled up. "Wow you look so good honey" he placed his backpack down as he kissed your forehead then your lips. "You ready to go?" he questioned as you nodded.

You both arrived to the Toronto Centre as you walked through out the many shops. You couldn't help but notice a very cute, vintage looking bag through the glass window of 'Coach'. "Like it baby?" he shook your held hand in excitement as you bit your bottom lip, "It's gonna ruin my bank account" you scoffed as he suddenly pulled you into the store, "Hamzah!" you tugged his hand as he grabbed the purse from the shelf "Never say your gonna buy something yourself when I'm here" he huffed as you got immediate butterflies. He went to ask for a newer bag as he swiped his card and made it all yours.

It was always something shopping with Hamzah. He’d always buy you something no matter what. He just loves seeing you happy.

"Babe I can't believe this! I love you!" You shrieked as you held the bag in your hands as his lips curled. He loved seeing you so happy. One of his favorite things to do was giving you things that reminded him of you.

“Of course y/n” he said as he kissed your rosy lips as his whole goal today was to spoil you.

", where else do you want to go?" he hummed as he wrapped his arm around you. You both walked into many stores and came out of them with more and more bags on your hands. You felt a small guilt whenever he did this. Especially when it came to expensive places. “I’m sorry baby, this is all so expensive” you said worryingly. “No baby, don’t worry about the prices. Whatever you want you get, remember that.” He said softly as you blushed in response.

You both ended off the day going to a small park to eat lunch. Your eyes glowed under the sunset as the sun kissed your face so well. His face brightened up seeing you. He knew you were the one from the start. The way you matched his energy with everything, your similar personalities, and the way you were drop dead gorgeous. He never said or thought anything like this since his little elementary school girlfriends but he wanted to be with you forever.

"I'm so glad were able to spend more time together because of the break” he smiled, "me too babe" you leaned your head on his shoulder as his eyes were stuck onto you like glue. He felt so comfortable and confident with you he couldn’t believe he introduced you to his fans.

"I also have a little gift for you" he licked his lips as you stood up from his shoulder, "what? Hamzah you bought so much stuff for us already?" you frowned “here you go worrying again!” He sighed as he placed a hand on your knee. You inhaled and exhaled as he digged in his pocked to take out a small heart shaped box. Your heart dropped to the floor as he opened the small box and pulled out a (gold/silver) promise ring with the most shiniest heart shaped red gem in the middle.

"I wanted to give you this ring as a promise I'll stick with you forever y/n" he smiled as he slipped the ring onto your finger as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Hamzah! I can’t believe you!” You shrieked as you kissed all over his face as he giggled from your soft lips brushing his face. His face was covered in kiss marks as you looked down at the gorgeous rock on your finger.

“Do you like it?” He questioned as he rubbed your back, “I LOVE it baby, thank you so much!” Your eyes sparkled - “I promise to be with you forever too Hamzah.” You added as you sat down on his lap hugging him tightly.

-

I’ll def be posting tomorrow as well but I hope y’all enjoy this small little story <3!

[devilish-cherry]

choso relationship headcanons pt 2 ♡

ᨳ♡₊➳ choso x reader

ᨳ♡₊➳ crack, fluff

ᨳ♡₊➳ part one

ᨳ♡₊➳ me, not posting content for months: 🛌💤

also me the second choso crosses my mind: 🧍‍♀️💻🔥

i abandoned you all for two months but crawled out from under my rock at the call of my choso thirst alone. brand consistency is on point. nature is healing. please accept these headcanons as a humble offering before i crawl back into my hole. 😌🖤

₊⊹. choso's idea of waking you up gently is hovering over your sleeping form silently, staring until your soul feels his presence, and you wake up in sheer terror. "good morning," he deadpans, genuinely puzzled by your startled gasp. "were you dreaming badly?"

₊⊹. choso insists on watching those overly dramatic soap operas with you because his memories vaguely recall his vessel's grandma watching them. now he's deeply invested in the plot. you find him dramatically yelling at the tv, "do not give him the rose, mari! he betrayed your trust!" if you miss an episode, he's like, "i have updates. you will not believe who betrayed who."

₊⊹. he's surprisingly good at video games once he learns them, but is personally betrayed whenever your animal crossing villagers move out. you find him softly murmuring to your switch, "was my hospitality inadequate?"

₊⊹. choso discovered cooking tutorials on youtube exactly once and now he's committed to mastering japanese cuisine. unfortunately, it usually ends up with rice burnt to the bottom of your favorite pan. he always looks so earnestly distressed, blinking at the scorched remains, "this isn’t how chef kenichi said it would turn out…"

₊⊹. once he found out houseplants increase serotonin, your apartment basically turned into a botanical garden. he gets emotionally attached to each plant. you swear you've caught him softly reassuring a succulent, "you are doing well. keep photosynthesizing."

₊⊹. he knows how to use chopsticks, shake hands, and make a dentist appointment, all thanks to his vessel, but he has never emotionally processed any of those things. he does them like he’s cosplaying a civilian. that’s why he answers the door for the delivery driver by simply saying, “greetings.” and then doesn’t move to take the bag. just stares. the driver glances at the food, at choso, back at the food, like maybe this is a very elaborate mugging. you quickly jump in and handle the transaction while choso whispers to you, “they were unusually tense. suspicious?”

₊⊹. choso genuinely thinks the "don't talk to me until i've had my coffee" mugs you bought ironically mean you require silence in the morning. so every dawn, he sits in complete silence next to you, handing you coffee with reverence like you’re some ancient deity who must not be angered.

₊⊹. he knows how laundry works, in theory. but the first time you ask him to handle it, he somehow ends up washing your whites with a vibrant red hoodie. now everything you own is pink. he looks at you, tilting his head slightly. "pink suits you. i improved your wardrobe."

₊⊹. he doesn’t fully get sarcasm, so when you joke, "wow, love that for us," after you both spectacularly burn dinner, he nods sincerely, "i also appreciate our unified failure." he eventually adopts your sarcastic sense of humor but misses the delivery entirely, resulting in gems like, "oh great, another sunny day. precisely what we needed." completely serious, staring at a cloudless sky.

₊⊹. he tries to cheer you up by sending animal videos he discovers online but sends you bizarrely intense wildlife survival clips instead. "look, love. it's a meerkat narrowly escaping death. inspiring, isn't it?"

₊⊹. your first time visiting a pet cafe was his personal awakening. now, whenever he's stressed, you inevitably end up at the local cat café watching him silently commune with the cats. "they understand," he assures you while cradling a grumpy-looking cat named 'pancake'. "we should consider joint custody of this cat."

₊⊹. he knows what a “joke” is. he even knows the formula. set up → punchline → laughter. but when he tries to tell one, it’s like watching someone who read about humor but has never experienced it. he also always forgets the punchline halfway through and solemnly finishes, "i'm sorry. this was supposed to be humorous."

₊⊹. choso likes to hold hands, but doesn't quite understand when it’s socially acceptable. you once ended up awkwardly holding his hand while explaining to your landlord why the sink was broken, choso calmly beside you, fingers entwined, giving zero context.

₊⊹. choso tries texting you once, but doesn't understand emojis. you receive an ominous message: "Come home. 🔪🍅" and spend the entire day convinced something horrifying awaits you. turns out, he just wanted help cutting tomatoes.

₊⊹. choso believes firmly in quality cuddle sessions. he doesn't ask; he merely strategically drapes himself nearby until you notice and concede. you finally ask why he doesn't just say he wants cuddles, and he blinks slowly. "that seems aggressive."

₊⊹. choso finds diy tutorials online and tries them secretly to surprise you. spoiler alert: he’s hilariously bad at them. you've come home to questionable-looking clay mugs, half-painted canvases, and one very strange knitted... something. he presents each with absolute sincerity, "it is handmade. by me."

₊⊹. he randomly gives you head pats but doesn’t understand the social nuance, sometimes patting your head gently during serious conversations. "this is comfort." he declares, clearly satisfied with himself.

₊⊹. you once sarcastically called him “my strong little man” after he carried a heavy grocery bag. this man did not talk for an hour. he was processing. he sat down with a glass of water and said, “i am not little. but i am... yours.” you almost choked.

₊⊹. choso is basically your shadow in public places because he learned from his vessel's memories that partners stay close. sometimes so close he accidentally steps on your heel repeatedly. if you ever ask him for more space, he just blinks, totally deadpan. "i am ensuring your safety."

₊⊹. one day, you jokingly said, "ugh, i’d marry whoever does the dishes tonight," and you've never seen choso move so fast in his life. the plates nearly shattered from his enthusiasm alone.

₊⊹. if you ask him to pass you a towel while showering, he reaches into the bathroom with his eyes dramatically shut tight. his determination to respect your privacy while also being helpful is ridiculously endearing.

₊⊹. despite his perpetual resting bored face, choso genuinely believes everything you do is incredibly cool. you open a tricky jar? "incredible strength." you manage to fix the wifi router? "unmatched technological prowess." he looks at you like you're simultaneously beyoncé and albert einstein incarnate. it’s honestly adorable.

₊⊹. sometimes, he stares at your shared life, photos, plants, mugs, and mutters to himself, “i never thought i’d have this.”

[dekkiidan]

y'all were so encouraging on my tentative post about hearthian courting, egg development, relationships etc. post that I've compiled my headcanons into a little list for your perusal below!

please be aware that due to the nature of the topic being discussed, there is mention of sexual relationships, a brief mention of sexual anatomy and the Hearthian version of pregnancy ("clutch-carrying") discussed below so please avoid if that's not your thing - just scroll on past!

without further ado!

Courtship

A Note on Hearthian Relationships

Prefacing this with the fact that I believe hearthian relationships, sexuality and familial roles are all very fluid in comparison to the "nuclear" familial ties of humans. Basically, hearthians as a species and as a community really don't care who's doing what with whom, nor do they hold one flavour of relationship in higher regard than another. No strings attached? No problem. Friends with benefits? Whatever floats your boat, buddy! Really wanted to egg-carry and raise your own hatchling but aren't fussed about a strict exclusive relationship with someone else? You do you. Want to raise a hatchling but don't want to carry? No worries, go pick an egg from the hatchery. etc. etc. Each individual has their own preferences and that's just how it is.

Actually, @2isted-chocol8-art's views on hearthian relationships are pretty in line with mine, and they're also much more eloquent than I am, so feel free to have a read here!

Like humans, Hearthian courting varies from individual to individual; and also depends on context. There are different "rules" depending on your end goal. For example, if you just want to have a fling with someone, it's quite easy to make your intentions clear over a drink or two. However, if you're after a more long-term commitment, then the general consensus is that you should be a bit more thoughtful and courteous in your approach - and this involves gift giving!

There is no hard and fast rule on what counts as an appropriate gift and it varies from individual to individual, but, due to the geological origins of Hearthian names (and my own interest in geology), I like the idea of "stone-sharing" - the gifting of a pretty rock to signal interest. I think a lot of folks share this HC, I know for a fact that @insert-image-here and Cosmo have somewhat similar headcanons regarding stones and gems!

Stone-sharing rocks don't have to be "precious", in fact most of them are just tumbled country rock, but they should be of a reasonable size. An ideal size should be no smaller than a golf ball.

Offering one of these tumbled rocks to your prospective partner(s) is the same as "officially" asking someone to be in a more serious/long-term relationship with you.

If accepted, the stone-share is kept safe by the other party.

Marriage, in the human sense, isn't really a thing for Hearthians, but should a couple/group wish to commit long-term to their partners, they will split the stone to make jewelry/accessories from it! So, for example, Mohs and Dusty's necklace and bolo tie are from the same stone respectively.

Should a relationship not work out, the stone-share (intact or split) is returned to the original gifter. Oftentimes they are discarded back into Timber Hearth's rivers or, if it was a less than favourable break-up, thrown into the geysers.

Seasons 

Please please please please don’t be weird about this I’m begging y’all. I just think biology is cool and love that a lot of amphibians go through seasonal changes to signal they’re ready for babies, and I love the idea that Hearthians exhibit something similar.

Prefacing this with the commonly accepted headcanon that Hearthians are simultaneous hermaphrodites. They have functioning sets of what we would consider “both” reproductive organs. As such, any Hearthian, provided everything is working correctly, can both carry or fertilise eggs. 

Hearthians undergo fertile windows that occur when eggs are mature and ready to be fertilised.

The hormonal changes that prompt the egg to mature also cause physiological changes! These can include darkening of marking patterns; complete pattern changes; development/elongation of whiskers (thank you @queruloustea for letting me utilise this, I love your whiskered beasties!); ear fanning to help dissipate heat (thank you Nepsie for your inspo on this!) - body temperature generally increases during this time; and release of certain pheromones to attract others.

I want to stress that Hearthians don’t find any of this “taboo” at all. It’s a perfectly natural and normal part of their life, and folks who are in “season” don’t feel ashamed or awkward to just continue with their day to day lives as normal. Some might wear slightly lighter clothes to help with heat dissipation but that’s about it.

Due to the relatively small population, I think that Hearthians are actually pretty bad at making babies. As such, I think their fertile windows, or seasons, are quite tight - maybe 10-15 days every 6 months, and apparently everyone sucks at getting busy during this time anyway because, well, look at the population size.

Eggs & Clutch Carrying

Clutches normally begin at 3 or 4 eggs strong, but it is rare for all eggs in a clutch to be fertilised or reach maturity. Normally, non-fertilised eggs are absorbed by the strongest and used as food during gestation. However, in rare cases there can be twins, triplets or even quadruplets!

Once fertilised, eggs are internally incubated for roughly 4-5 months, before being laid into a specially prepared body of water (see, nicely incubated bucket in the hatchery) where they develop for a further month before hatching into tadpoles!

Hearthian eggs are soft shelled and slightly transparent - similar to frogspawn! Once laid, their transparent casing allows folks to do important welfare checks on the tadpoles in the hatchery!

Depending on build, some Hearthians develop a clutch bump around one month into “eggnancy.” Bumps don’t tend to get very big, but this varies from individual to individual. As a rule of thumb, bumps don’t exceed the size of an average mango.

Whilst clutch-carrying, the parent will exhibit a variety of changes to help with both gestation and tadpole raising. These include: further darkening of markings and whisker development - I headcanon that tadpoles have pretty poor vision when freshly hatched and as such rely on contrast and touch as opposed to detail and colour to make sense of the world around them! Many Hearthians put on a bit of weight also, fat reserves are important due to the extra energy being exerted to promote healthy tadpole development.

Once eggs are laid, parents don't necessarily look after their own. It's very much a communal activity. However, some couples/groups/partners may want to take a more active role in their own egg care, which is also accepted and encouraged in the community.

Also, “delivering” an egg is nowhere near as messy a business as it is with humans. Thanks to the eggs being soft shelled, they’re relatively easy to . . . expel.

Post laying, some Hearthians return to "normal" pretty quickly, while others who are more predisposed to take on a more parental role will keep their high contrast colours and extra squish. They'll take on the primary caretaker role for hatchlings as they develop into toddlers. Clutch markings and extra squish will dissipate once hatchlings are able to stand upright. (I have a whole other HC about a positive feedback loop re hatchling pheromones and hormones that basically tell the caretaker/parent Hearthian's body to settle back to normal when the hatchlings are ready, but that’s a whole other essay.)

Tadpoles hatch as wriggly little beasties, please go and check out @queruloustea lovely tadpoles for a visual. Thank you Sorrel for letting me geek out about them with you!

If you are still here, thank you for reading! I love thinking about relationships, communities and reproduction in alien species, and it has been so much fun to do a deep dive with the Hearthians. I’ll likely add and update this as I think of more stuff, but if you have any questions feel free to ping me an ask or drop me a DM!

Huge thanks to everyone who has listened to me ramble about this via Discord and DM - Merry, Nepsie, Sorrel, Cosmo, and Image -  it’s been such a pleasure to discuss these silly little ideas with you all and I’m so thankful to you all for bouncing ideas around with me!

[bl4nk-card]

Norton Campbell

✧ [ SFW general headcanons ] ✧

SURVIVOR & HUNTER NORTON (separated) & gn! [lover] reader

a/n: i tried a new editing style, hope you like !! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

✧༺♥༻

(SURV) NORTON CAMPBELL

norton who, despite his cautious and 'unapproachable' demeanor at first, is actually not a complete grump. he is willing to help those who are close to him. and most especially when it comes to you, his beloved.

norton is capable of being gentle, and he is when around you. just being in a relationship already declares that you are very, veryyyy, vverrryy dear to this hesitant man, and so when you're that close, he'd be loving towards you.

norton gets jealous easily and he is willing to show it. be it a glare, a tight hold on you, menacingly standing behind you, or a word of disgust and hidden spite, he makes it clear that others should not get too close to you. listen, he's lost a lot, he wasn't losing more than he already had. and losing you meant losing everything.

norton shares his meals with you ... when he sees that you don't have enough. he can still be selfish with his food.

norton sneaks a hug on you, and he so happens to do them everytime you're focused on something. whenever he hugs you, he'd whisper loving and grateful words to you. how someone like you chose him, hell -- how you even breathed the same air as him --- he thanks you in murmurs.

if he can, if it's safe, norton also steals just a tiny peck from you during matches. say you're both decoding together. just a very short and light kiss.

norton easily gets heated / angry after failed matches. he would either immediately head to his room to isolate himself or to yours, where the anger would go away much quicker. your hugs never fail to calm him down. and bit by bit, he will start to talk again, ranting on and on about the annoying bits in a match.

during cuddle sessions, norton is the big spoon --- rarely will you find him wanting to be the little spoon; nuh uh, that's your role. norton is very cautious and wants you in his arms instead of it being the other way around so he can really make sure you're safe. if he's the little spoon, then he can't easily directly look at you. plus, he doesn't like being vulnerable.

norton cherishes the metals and gems that he keeps in his own room and he shows them to you very excitedly. he knows a lot about them and is willing to keep you in his room for an hour showing you his collection --- it's a small collection, but there are things.

years after you both got together, norton rarely calls you by your name anymore. he uses your nickname(s) and many other endearments. it may not seem like him, he would definitely deny doing it, and it would take years before he starts doing it, but he would. he loves and trusts you dearly and he shows it through these names.

FOOL'S GOLD + SURV! reader

listen, i feel like fool's gold would try playing pranks on you if he wasn't in a match with you. he sucks at it --- you can't even call them big pranks, but he's trying. reading? he'd 'jump' out of a corner with that hideously expectant smile on his face (you probably already heard him breathing and his rocks moving while he was hiding). reaching for something? it amuses him to see you think you could reach it --- he grabs it before you can. waiting for a friend? suddenly you can hear deep breathing behind you, directly above you.

fool's gold likes his axe very much and is proud of it. much like survivor norton, he would show his precious possessions to you --- except fool's gold wouldn't really talk about it so much. however, he might be aggressive and may accidentally (or purposely) scare you while showing the axe. again, he is amused by you.

fool's gold tries to spare you everytime you're in a match with him. 'silly you, believing you were sneaky crouching behind a pallet like that' --- he sees you most of the time, but he chooses to ignore you and goes after another. when he has to go for you, he tries to not hurt you. too much, at least.

fool's gold laughs and plays with you a bit while you're on the chair. once more, the sight of you just cheers him up so much and he is curious about you. a few times, he gently combs up a strand of your hair (it's hard though. it slips so easily from his fingers) and curiously lets it fall between the gaps of his rock-hand. he also hesitantly touches on your hand or your shoulder. just a very light nudge.

if permitted, fool's gold follows you everywhere. terrifying, but you knew he wouldn't hurt you --- he just lingers behind you. looking here and there, watching you do your thing. just seeing you do your little survivor things like eating, carrying something, or just walking, already ignites a sense of joy he long thought gone.

fool's gold carries you from time to time. ask, and he will lower himself to offer you a ride. and it's quite fun, too, and he is so gentle (or tries to be). you just have to get used to the possibly rocky surfaces which may hurt.

fool's gold keeps you safe from other hunters that may seem .. a bit more than untrustworthy. he himself does not trust a single hunter besides maybe just a few. as mentioned, he's always with you --- he sees what's going on and will quickly interfere if another hunter is being too threatening towards you.

✧༺♥༻

[alexturntable]

hello ! this is very random haha but i was wondering if you had favourite moments of charles and carlos when they are speaking italian together ? from interviews, ferrari videos, casually, etc ? i remember when they used to do more of the ferrari challenge videos in italian and i miss those times haha. i always liked seeing how they communicated in a language other than english especially because charles seems more comfortable in italian. so i was just wondering if you had any favourites :))

I love when they switch to Italian (although I don’t understand anything) and then they talk in a mix of English and Italian.

Charles definitely feels more comfortable in Italian and I think maybe Carlos does too. Like when they had a game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who would speak Italian in a video and the winner would speak Italian so clearly both of them wanted to speak Italian.

Charles' "Non è vero" when he heard Carlos' full name for the first time lives rent free in my head, I think it's hilarious that he had to express his disbelief in Italian.

My favorite moment is probably from Monza last year when the interviewer asked Charles (on live TV) to make a public declaration about missing Carlos and Carlos cheekily added "of love" ❤️

The early challenges had a lot of moments where they spoke Italian like the Jenga challenge (+ the outtakes) from 2021 where they started in English and slowly switched to Italian and then kept going back and forth, they also kept making fun of each other's English pronunciations of some words, it's really funny! Also, I love that when Charles is speaking Italian he pronounces the R in Carlos unlike when he's speaking English.

In the Pétanque challenge they started in English, switched to Italian and then kinda forgot to switch back lol

A really cute one is this video where they were trying a helmet filter and they were just casually switching between the 2 languages.

And this technogym challenge just for the pure chaos!

While I was looking for videos for this ask I stumbled upon this gem where Carlos was reading a question "Let’s imagine a year has gone by. We’re here again, you and me" and he adds "da soli" (alone), like you and me alone and Charles says he would offer him a coffee (he clearly knows the way to Carlos' heart) and now this is definitely one of my favorite moments of them speaking Italian!

I'm sure Italian speakers would be able to find a lot more but these are some of my favs.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Light in the darkness; George Weasley x reader

*Author's note*

And here we are again before I go to Megacon down in Orlando for the week, thought I'd post this gem up and see what you all think. Now this is part of the Sirius Black daughter x G.W mini-series so head over to the Masterlist and catch up on those for any new readers out there. To everyone else enjoy my lovelies :)

Warnings: Parental death (Sirius Black's death is shown so get the tissues ready folks), angst, some fluff, good ol Weasley shenanigans, some blood (nothing too graphic just like nosebleed level stuff, but not like that you pervs I KNOW who you are iykyk).

Taglist:

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@waddles03

@queen-paladin

@plethora-of-things

@psychosupernatural

@remussl0vers

__________________________________________________________

The fireplace was roaring with life, I was on the floor playing with my favorite stuffed teddy while humming a song to myself.  Mum was in her rocking chair knitting something for Harry when she suddenly stopped and turned towards the door.

“(Y/n), come my love.” She dropped the blanket and knelt down beside me and picked me up.  She ran up toward the stairs but let out a scream and tripped as our front door was blasted away.  She regained her footing and continued up the stairs.  She took me to their bedroom and opened their wardrobe up.

She turned back towards the door as footsteps could slowly be heard coming up the stairs.  She picked me up and wrapped me in papa James’ invisibility cloak.

“(Y/n), no matter what you see or hear, promise me you won’t come out from this cloak. Promise me.” Mum pleaded.  Her voice trembled with fear and desperation, her eyes glistening with tears.

“I pwomise mummy.” She choked out a sob and kissed my forehead and held me tight.

“I’ll always be watching over you, my little starlight. Never forget you are mine and mine to me.” She then covered my entire body with papa James’ cloak before shutting the wardrobe door.  But before she could shut it fully, I heard uncle Peter’s voice.

“Hello (M/n).” mummy growled as I saw her stand up.

“What are you doing here Pettigrew?”

“Can’t I see an old friend?”

“You are no friend of mine. Not anymore, I saw what would become of James and Lily. The stars never lie.”

“You always were a bright witch. Both literally and figuratively. Ohh no wonder Sirius fell for you.” Uncle Peter sighed lovingly.

“How could you do this to them?”

“It was nothing personal. Truly (M/n), you must understand that nothing would’ve stopped the Dark Lord. He would’ve found them either way.”

“That’s not true. You sold James and Lily to him just to save your own arse! And once the Order finds out about this….”

“To bad you’ll be too dead to even speak. Avada Kedavra!” a flash of green came out and I watched in horror as my mother screams echoed through the house.  My mother’s body glowed a pure white before she finally collapsed and the bright light was quickly snuffed out and mummy was left lying on the floor very still.

I covered my mouth trying to not to make a sound just like mummy told me but tears slid down my face.

“(Y/n)?” uncle Peter soon called out to me.  “Come out now poppet, no need to hide anymore.” The wardrobe door suddenly opened up and I saw uncle Peter standing over me as he looked around for me but thanks to the cloak, I couldn’t be found.  He soon left the room and kept calling out my name for what felt like a long time before all went quiet again.

I continued to stare at mummy’s body before finally taking the cloak off of me and I fearfully crawled up to her.

“Mummy? Mummy wake up.” I poked her cheek but she felt cold to the touch.  Her eyes were opened but the warmth they once had was gone.  I reached out and tugged at her hair as hard as I could and whimpered, “Mummy! Wake up pwease! This not funny!” but she still remained motionless.

“(M/n)?! (Y/n)!?” daddy’s voice soon called out.

“DADDY!!” I cried out.  I heard footsteps racing up the stairs and daddy soon came to the door and I ran to him crying.  “Mummy won’t wake up! Why don’t she wake up?” I saw daddy’s broken face as he stared at mummy with tears running down his face.  He collapsed to his knees and crawled up to mummy and held her in his arms.

“(M/n)? (M/n)? No please, please don’t leave me. C’mon please don’t do this to me. Stay with me my love…..please come back to us.” Tears fell down daddy’s face as he cried into mummy’s neck.  I placed my head into mummy’s tummy and wept.

Daddy soon set mummy down on the ground, his sad face now stoic but his fists clenched so tightly they turned white.  His dark eyes now gave a menacing look as he immediately raced out of the house.

“Daddy! Daddy wait!” I ran after him but as I left the bedroom, the setting had now changed.  I was now my current age and I found myself once again down in the Dept. of Mysteries.

The battle between the Order of the Phoenix and the Death eaters was in fully swing.  Tonks was helping Luna and Ginny out of firing range, Hermione and Ron followed shortly behind with uncle Remus guarding them, Moody slamming his staff at any surrounding death eaters and Kingsley going after Bellatrix whose maniacal laughter echoed throughout the entire room as the two of them were playing cat and mouse with each other.

“Now listen to me, I need you and (Y/n) to take the others and get out of here.” Dad told Harry and I.

“What? No, I’m staying with you.” Harry said to dad.

“You have done beautifully. Both you and your god-sister. Now let me take it from here.”

“Dad, I’m part of the Order, let me stay and fight with you!” I pleaded.  Something that I should’ve said.

“No darling, you’re the strongest witch to protect them while we fight. Please my darling kit,” he cupped the side of my face.  “I already lost your mother, don’t make me lose you too.” Tears spilled down my face but our moment was broken when I took notice of Lucius and another Death eater about to fire a spell at us.

I took out my wand and summoned a shield around the three of us just as the attack came at us.  Harry and dad got their wands at the ready and they fired their attacks while I was their defense putting up my shield for any attack Lucius and the other Death eater had coming for us but would drop the shield when it was their turn to attack.

Dad managed to send the spare Death eater flying while I used out the Petrificus Totalus spell to make sure he stayed there until more aurors arrived.  Harry then disarmed Lucious Malfoy with the Expelliarmus spell.

“Nice one James!” dad proclaimed.  I watched in awe as my dad with grace and precision fully disarm Lucius before he turned and gave me a look and I nodded to him and together the two of us sent Lucious Malfoy flying across the room.

But that was when I heard those two dreaded words once again.

“AVADA KADAVRA!!” the familiar green light struck my dad and his proud smile he gave to me slowly faded as he gave me and Harry one last look.  His body slowly being consumed by the veil, the light in his dark eyes growing duller just like mum’s had so long ago before he fully disappeared into the veil.

I shot up gasping and I frantically looked around and saw that I was in the flat just above Fred and George’s new shop, Weasley Wizard Wheezes.  Sweat coated my brow as I tried to regain my breathing before realizing the horrid truth.

I lost both my parents.  Mum and dad were both gone, taken from me by the same damned curse! And I couldn’t do anything to save either of them.  Granted for my mother’s case I was only three but my dad I—why couldn’t I do more?

I now stood on the roof of the shop looking up at the stars and the half moon that shined over the empty streets of Diagon Alley.  The silence was eerie but it was something that I desperately needed.  The screams of my mother, the last breath of my father continued to ring in my head and I just couldn’t shake it off no matter how hard I tried.

“The nightmares again?” Fred’s voice softly spoke from behind me.  I didn’t answer him.  I heard his footsteps walk toward me and I felt him drape a blanket over me.  He curled in close to me his hand resting on my shoulder as he continued, “(Y/n), George and I have tried to give you as much space as you’ve needed, but we’re worried. You’re not sleeping properly, you’re barely eating. We don’t want to push you but it’s been almost a month since you started acting like this.” I could feel him tuck my hair behind my ear trying to uncover my face, “Can’t you swallow your pride just this once and talk to at least one of us?”

“George.” I softly spoke after a long while of silence, “I want to talk to George.”

“I’ll go get him for you.” He then gently pulled me into his arms and hugged me, my head rest just over his heart.  “I love you so much sis.” Tears stung through my eyes and as I closed my eyes, a single tear fell down my face.  Fred gently kissed my temple before leaving to go get George, I wrapped the blanket further around me and the scent alone made me realize that he had given me Georgie’s blanket.

“Any room in there for me?” George’s voice spoke up behind me.  I turned to face him and held out my arm still gripping the blanket.  George came over and cuddled close to me before taking the end of his blanket and wrapped it around the two of us.

I leaned my head against his shoulder and wrapped my arms around his.  George took my hand gently into his, his thumb gingerly stroking the back of my hand.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered.

“For what?”

“I thought I was past this stage but I just…..”

“Oi now,” George softly gave me a nudge.  “I don’t know how Fred might’ve worded it sometimes he can be an impatient git. We don’t expect you to slap a smile on your face and move on so quickly. You’re allowed to feel what you need to feel. Even if it means taking a couple steps backward. I—we care about you (Y/n).”

“Thanks Georgie.” I looked up at him and gave him a small smile.  He looked down at me and gave me the same small smile back, his eyes filled with empathy.  “There is actually a reason to why I’ve been acting this way.” The soft empathy soon morphed into concern as I wandlessly summoned the letter that started me on this spiraling path of darkness.

“It still amazes me that you can now do wandless magic.”

“Work harder and you might just catch up Weasley.”

“Now there’s the cheekiness of my girl. Good to know it’s still there deep down.” He gave me another playful nudge with his body before taking the letter.

“Read it out loud.” He looked at me perplexed.

“Are you sure?”

“Just…..read it George.” He looked at the address and saw that it had came from the Ministry of Magic.  He opened it up and read the letter out loud.

“‘Dear Ms. Black, we send our deepest condolences in regards to the loss of your father. Sirius Black was and has always been a proud wizard. We have re-reviewed his case and in the light of new evidence coming into the place we the Ministry of Magic have officially declared him a free man. Regretfully we wish he could have lived to hear of his freedom but as his next of kin, you deserve the knowledge that the crimes that he was falsefully accused of has now been extinguished. Signed, Rufus Scrimgeour Minister of Magic’.”

“They declare my father a free man months after his death.” I scoffed before standing up and pacing along the roof.  My hands wringing through my hair as my breathing sharpened.  “He should’ve been declared free the moment he was falsefully accused, instead they just threw him into Azkaban without a trial. 14 years they call him a wizard killer, a traitor! They took him from me just like Pettigrew took my mother from me! And they think this will forgive them for what they did!?” I screamed the last part in anguish. 

I felt George place his hands on my shoulders to stop me from pacing and he brought me into his arms.  One hand stroking my hair back down trying to tame it while the other rubbed soothing circles on my back.

“My parents are gone! I watched them both die right before my eyes from the same bloody curse! All their hopes, their dreams they had for me are gone!” I wept. “Have I not suffered enough? How many more people must die because of this pointless war!?”

“Shhhh, shhh.” George rested his chin on top of my head as he rocked me back and forth.  “I know, there are days when I feel like just running away from all this. This is a pointless war. All because of the divide between purebloods and mixed bloodlines, it’s rubbish. A completely rubbish reason to start a war.”

“What stops you?”

“My family. Never did I think that anything could tear us apart until after the TriWizard tournament when that git Percy sided with the Ministry over his own family. Breaking our mum’s heart by sending back his Christmas jumper, never have I seen mum be that sad over anything else before. And just from this past year at our final year at Hogwarts, I remembered what Fred had said to me. Everyone needs a little bit of laughter every day, with all that’s going on we should at least take the time to see that there is a reason to laugh even with things aren’t going to good.”

“A light at the end of the tunnel.” I muttered.

“Come again?”

“That’s one of the last things dad ever said to me that Christmas after your dad’s attack at the Ministry. Even in the darkest of tunnels, you must always try to look for the light and hang onto it.”

“Seems great minds think alike.”

“But it’s just so hard now. I’m tired George. I’m so tired.” He gently massaged the back of my neck and I felt him place a soft kiss to the crown of my head.

“Come with me.” I was suddenly picked up and held in George’s arms bridal style and he took me back into the shop.  We came back into the flat and he set me down along the couch.  Using his wand he made the fireplace come to life and a plate of nougat appeared before me. 

“These aren’t the nosebleed nougats are they?” I asked.

“No not this time. I solemnly swear.” He crossed his heart while looking at me dead in the eye.  I hesitantly reached out and grabbed a nougat and gave it a brief sniff before taking a small bite.  Once my nose wasn’t dripping out blood, I knew I was safe.  “This is my first nougat since I had accidentally ate some of your nosebleed nougats.”

“Yeah you had vowed to never have a nougat for as long as you lived after that.”

“And I stuck by that. Had to explain it to Remus and everything. He always made the best nougats especially around Christmas time.”

*Flashback 4th year*

I met with the twins in the Great Hall for Lunch as it was now our free period,  I saw them and Lee sitting together at the Gryffindor table with some nougats on a plate.

“What are you three boys gossiping about now?” I asked as I made myself known.

“Oh just the next upcoming prank on Snape.” Grinned Freddie.

“Again? This is the fifth prank this week alone, he’s gonna catch on.” I said sitting down beside George.

“But this one is brilliant. We cooked it up just this morning.”

“Okay I’ll bite, what is it?”

“Well you know how Snape is on about his potions right?” Fred started off.

“Right.” I said slowly.

“Well we slip this into his cauldron demonstration before class and slip the evidence into Flint’s seat. He’s the perfect scapegoat!” George softly exclaimed.

“I would like to see that buck-tooth git get what’s coming to him. Especially after our last Quidditch match. Danny still has a mild concussion from taking that bludger to the head.”

“Still?” Lee asked incredulously.  I nodded.  I looked at my pocket watch and muttered.

“Bloody hell I’m gonna be late for Transfiguration. See you guys in potions.” I secretly nabbed one of the nougats and took off running out of the Great hall stuffing my face with the nougat sweet.

In class as I was taking notes down I started to feel a bit light-headed.  I brushed it off as probably lack of sleep since I didn’t really sleep well last night.  But as I was writing down some notes, I noticed a drop of blood had fallen onto my assignment.  Followed by another and then another.

I reached up and touched under my nose and felt the tips of my fingers grow wet and when I held them out, my finger tips were covered in blood.  My heart raced as I held my nose and went up to Professor McGonagall’s desk but when I went to stand up, I suddenly felt lightheaded and soon collapsed.

I could hear the faint panicked mutters of the other students followed by Professor McGonagall’s voice telling everyone to back up and her trying to talk to me.  But my world went fuzzy and soon my world went black.

When I awoke I found myself in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey standing over me.

“Look whose awake.”

“Wh-what happened to me?”

“Professor McGonagall had brought you to me with your nose just gushing out blood faster than pouring out water from the tap. You’re lucky you didn’t hit your head when you collapsed otherwise you would’ve bled from two places and from just seeing how much blood you were losing from your nose already, it could’ve worse for you my dear.”

“But I’m okay now, right?”

“Oh you’ll be fine. I managed to stop the bleeding and the spell that was affecting you.”

“I was put under a spell?”

“Well to be honest Miss Black, that’s where it gets a bit tricky.”

“I believe I have the answer to that.” Professor McGonagall’s voice soon rang out as she came in with Fred and George who were giving me their guilty look.  “Boys, tell her what you told me.”

“(Y/n) those nougats that you snuck away as you left us, it wasn’t a normal nougat sweet.” Started Fred as he rubbed his arm shamefully.

“It’s what we call a Nosebleed nougat. But the batch we had planned for Marcus Flint had an extra kick to it. Had we known you had taken it we would’ve warned you to not eat it.” George said as he could barely look me in the eye.

“We’re sorry (Y/n).” they spoke together in the same regretful, sad tone.

“It wasn’t your fault guys. I shouldn’t have snuck the treat to begin with.”

“I spoke with Professor Flitwick and he’s allowed you to recover for the day and be excused from the rest of your classes today. As for you boys, even though I commend you for coming forward and telling me once you found out about Miss Black’s condition, I’m giving you both a day’s detention with me. Tomorrow at 6pm, don’t be late. Now come along boys and we’ll leave Miss Black to rest.” Professor McGonagall soon left the healing wing.

Fred and George looked up at me with tears glistening in their eyes as they shined with regret before they too left without saying another word.

“Well that surely explains a lot. Those boys put more students in my healing wing that all the Quidditch games combined.”

“They’re not so bad. At least not all the time. And it’s nice to know that there is a conscience buried somewhere in those thick heads of theirs. But guess that means I can no longer eat another nougat for as long as I live. It didn’t even taste that far off from how my uncle makes his.”

“Well dear, forgiven or not it’s best to keep an eye out for those two. You never know when those two will strike out at you.”

“I’ve been victim to their pranks before and never have they been this bad. Trust me Madam Pomfrey.”

“Whatever you say dear, now rest up and be sure to drink plenty of fluids tonight.” She set down a cup of water before walking away to do her next task.  I took a drink of water when I noticed something hidden just underneath my bed.

I bent over and pulled out a small bag and saw my favorite books inside as well as my drawing journal.  When I opened it up the first thing that fell out was a small piece of parchment and I saw in the familiar writing of Georgie.

Forgive us? Forgive me? We really didn’t mean to do it, those nosebleed nougats weren’t ever, ever meant for you. Hope you can forgive us, forgive me?

G. W.

“Oh Georgie, of course I forgive you, but you both have forever turned me off from eating nougats ever again.”

*End of Flashback*

“But hey be thankful we hadn’t come up with the puking pastilles yet.”

“Oh that surely would’ve never made me forgive you guys. Our friendship would’ve been finite.” I said doing the throat slicing motion with my hand as I finished one nougat and reached out for another.

“Aww you don’t really mean that. You love us too much.”

“Not at first, don’t you remember when we first met?” George let out a dramatic gasp.

“Are you telling me that (Y/n) Celeste Black hated us? Us? Your two dearest and most treasured friends?”

“Hate is such a strong word. At first you and Fred were like an itch I couldn’t scratch. Annoying and always lingering.”

“We weren’t that bad.”

“Yes you were you liar!”

“Details. Do you remember when we first found the Marauder’s map?”

“Wow, hadn’t thought about that in a long time.”

“I know, yet I remember it like it was yesterday. We were outside Filch’s office waiting for him to leave in order to—”

*Flashback 1st year*

Fred, George and I peeked over the pillars that led to Filch’s office and we waited for him to leave.

“You guys sure about this?” I asked worriedly.

“Stop your worrying (Y/n), besides we need those dung bombs back otherwise how else are we gonna get back at those Slytherin pigs?” Said Fred.

“After what they did to you in potions class they deserve to be punished.” Continued George.

“Brutally punished. Severely.” Fred finished.

“You guys scare me when you get protective like that.” I said.

“Which is why you should be grateful to be on our good side. Where the only pranks we give you are on child’s play level like a good jump scare.” George said.

“Or chattering teeth in your robe pockets.” Echoed Fred.

“And of course my favorite,” George then gave my sides a ticklish squeeze nearly making me yelp loudly but I covered my mouth and shoved him roughly.

“I hate it when you do that Georgie.”

“But I love it, you’ve got a pretty laugh.” I rolled my eyes and we completely ducked behind as Filch and his cat Mrs. Morris soon left his office.

“Alright, if you guys really want to do this. We’ve got to move quickly and quietly.” Once Filch and Mrs. Morris turned the corner of the corridor, we raced towards his office and the boys went on inside while I was the lookout.  “Just find your dung bombs and grab nothing else.”

“Got it.” They both chorused together as they began looking around Filch’s office.  A few minutes went by and the boys still didn’t have any luck.

“Bloody hell he really doesn’t play fair in hide and seek does he?” asked Fred.

“Not at all Fred.”

“Guys, you find them yet?” I asked as I looked out into the corridor.

“Negative raven’s eye.” Said George.  “Brutal this man is.”

“Agreed.” Fred said as I heard paper’s shuffling around.

“Wait, wait, I’ve got it. But we need a key.”

“Bloody hell, wait I think I saw one just a moment ago. Let’s see uhh….” I soon spotted Mrs. Morris coming back around the corridor.

“Weasleys, time to go. Morris is heading back this way. And I’d rather not get snitched on by a cat.” I whispered hastily at them.

“We’ve almost got it. Bloody hell this key just doesn’t want to turn!” I heard the boys grunting before they softly cheered.

“Guys I think Morris just spotted me!”

“Okay we’ve got it let’s go! This way!” I was grabbed by the twins as we quickly raced out of the office.  We ran until we came to the staircase that led to their common room.  We collapsed onto the stairs panting heavily.

“Please tell me you guys got them and we didn’t run that fast for nothing.” I panted.

“Did you ever doubt us?” asked Fred as he pulled out some of his homemade dungbombs.

“Also, I managed to swipe this.” George said as he held out what looked like an old parchment.

“What is that?” asked Fred.

“I don’t know but it was lying just right underneath our dungbombs.”

“Why grab that Georgie?” I asked.

“Because the filing cabinet it was in said ‘Confiscated and Highly Dangerous.’ But you got to ask yourself, why would an old piece of blank parchment be considered such a thing?” he did have a point.

“Let’s get into our dorm and see.” Said Fred as he took the parchment into his hand.

“Guess that leaves me out then, huh?” I asked.

“Sorry (Y/n). If we would we could, but our stairs turn into a slide if any other gender tries to enter the opposite’s dormitories. Kinda odd if you ask me.” George said.

“Fine. But if you need a more clever brain to work it out, you know where to find me Weasleys. And I swear if either of you snitches on me about what we did today, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Agreed. Bloody hell you’re pretty scary yourself when you want to be.” Fred said before they spoke the password to the Fat Lady while I headed back to my dorm.

A few days had passed and I was currently in the library doing some homework in peace when I felt something bounce off my head and onto the table.  I saw that it was a rolled up piece of paper so I turned in the direction to where it came from and I saw the twins peeking over.

“I never see you guys in here.” They came over and sat on either side of me.

“We think we’ve got it figured out.” Fred said.

“You mean that old parchment from Filch’s office?”

“What else? But the thing is, I think it knows something we don’t. Just watch.” George said as he took out his wand.  “Reveal to us your secrets.” He gave the parchment a tap with his wand and soon a message slowly started to appear.  My eyes widened as I softly gaped out a ‘whoa’.

“‘Messers Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs would like to clarify if the third of your party is present’.” Read Fred.

“Wait what?” I asked.

“That’s what the parchment has been nagging us on everytime we ask it something. It’s like it knows it needed the three of us present.” Said George.

“But why wait for me?”

“We don’t know. Give it a tap and ask it something.” Fred said.  I took out my wand and said.

“I am (Y/n) Celeste Black-Lupin. The third member of this trio, what secrets do you have hidden away?” I tapped my wand to the parchment and another message soon appeared. “‘Messer’s Padfoot and Moony welcome Miss (Y/n) Celeste Black-Lupin to the trio. Messer’s Padfoot especially sends his greetings to such a clever kitten.’”

“Oi watch it Padfoot!” exclaimed George.

“‘Messer’s Moony would like to ensure to Mr. George Weasley that while Miss (Y/n) is clever, there’s no need to be jealous.’” I read out loud.

“Alright, alright now that we’ve got our third right hand. Can we now see what secrets you four have inside?” asked Fred.  A new message read out as Fred read “‘Messer’s Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs would like to congratulate Mr. Weasley, Miss Black-Lupin and Mr. Weasley for successfully retrieving this piece of parchment from Filch. But before our secrets can be revealed, we must first ask that you three discover our secrets in a special location where the heavens meet the Earth.’”

“What does that mean? Heavens meet the Earth?”

“Oh come on guys that one’s easy. Heavens meaning the stars and the Earth mean the tower. The library is too convenient for anyone to hear us talking about it. We gotta head for the Astronomy tower.” I said to them. I looked down as a new message appeared “‘Messer’s Padfoot praises Miss (Y/n) on her cleverness.’”

“Alright let’s go then.” I packed up my stuff and the boys and I headed straight for the Astronomy tower.  Once it was clear that no one was there, we all huddled around with me in the middle holding the parchment all three of us holding our wands.

“Okay, we’re at the Astronomy tower. Who exactly are you four and what lies beneath this parchment?” I asked first.  A new message appeared as Fred read out loud.

“‘Messer’s Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs appreciate Mr. Weasley’s, Mr. Weasley’s and Miss Black-Lupin for their patience and curiosity and are willing to give you three one hint into discovering our secrets.’” Then George read the next message that began to appear.

“‘Messer’s Moony would like (Y/n), Fred and George to ask themselves why an old parchment such as this would be taken in the first place?’”

“We’ve been pondering this for days hadn’t we George?” asked Fred.

“Indeed. And we’ve come to the conclusion that an empty piece of parchment that is considered ‘highly dangerous’ doesn’t necessarily mean an evil manner. But for mischief. After all we found this parchment with our dungbombs and a few other tricks we’ve seen at Zonko’s like fireworks and trick-sweets.”

“Messer’s Moony, Padfoot and Prongs would like to say Mr. George Weasley is getting warmer to the truth. Messer’s Padfoot extends this question to Miss (Y/n). Messer’s Padfoot would like to know if she and her friends were to find the truth of this parchment, what would they do with it?” I read out loud.  “Well, if we were to discover what you are, all we’d use it for would be to cause mischief but nothing malicious. And I’d be there to ensure that these two jugheads don’t go too far.”

“Oi!” the twins exclaimed.

“‘Messer’s Moony extends his gratitude and praise that Miss (Y/n) is at least level headed while also being quite cheeky when she needs to be.’” I blushed.  “‘Messer’s Padfoot and Prongs believe that Miss (Y/n) and Moony need to lighten up and not be so uptight.’ Hey!”

“Agreed.” The twins teased as they both poked my ribs forcing me to yelp out and shove them hard.  A new message soon appeared.

“‘Messer’s Prongs would like to ask if by using this parchment, would that mean Fred, George and (Y/n) are up to no good?’” read George.

“Aren’t we always up to no good?” Fred asked sarcastically.

“‘Messer’s Padfoot and Prongs would like to know if they solemnly swear?’” I read out loud.  “Together boys?”

“Together.” They said as they held up their wands.  We held up our wands and said together, “We solemnly swear that we are up to no good.” We gave the parchment a tap and soon the messages disappeared and a map of Hogwarts appeared in red ink as a welcome message read out.  “‘Messer’s Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, are proud to present the Marauder’s Map’.”

I unfolded the parchment and soon full sized map of the entire school began to reveal itself as footsteps were moving in various places throughout the entire school.  And right beside each footprint was a name of every person in Hogwarts.

“Wicked.” The three of us chorused out.

“It’s the entire school.” I said breathlessly as I unfolded the rest of the parchment now down on the floor.  Each page revealing a new part of Hogwarts with new footsteps and names being pointed out.

“Look at that, there’s Dumbledore in his study!” Fred pointed out.

“And there’s Professor Flitwick talking with Professor Sprout.” I pointed out.

“This map is brilliant! It shows everyone, where they are.” George said.

“What they’re doing.” I continued George’s thoughts before Fred interrupted me.

“Of Every minute.”

“Of every day.” George finished.

“Wait guys look here at the top.” A new message soon began to appear above the map of Hogwarts.  “‘Messer’s Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs congratulate Fred, George and (Y/n) for being so clever and hope that they enjoy causing fun mischief and chaos just as we did. Messer’s Moony would like to point out though that when one or all three of you are done, simply call out ‘Mischief Managed’ otherwise the sacred secrets of the Marauder’s will be visible to prying eyes.’”

“What does that mean?” asked George.

“Let me try it.” I held up my wand and gave it a tap as I said, “Mischief Managed.” The map soon began to fold itself up and the map of Hogwarts as well as all the messages that had been written disappeared, leaving us with a black parchment once again.

“This is brilliant! Imagine it guys, the mischief we could get away with. No one would be able to find us because we could find all the secret passage ways in and out of the castle.” Fred said as he grabbed the map and held it up high.

“I say we meet at least once a week to look at this map in greater depth that way we can plan out our pranks and tricks.” George said.

“I can get behind that. And like I said, someone’s gotta keep an eye on you two.”

“Oh c’mon (N/n), why do you have to act like our mum?”

“Because if I let you boys run as wild or join into the fray, we’d be expelled faster than you can say Babbling, bumbling band of baboons five times fast.” That’s when the two of them tried to say it but I shook my head and rolled my eyes playfully at them.

*End of flashback*

“I still can’t believe that both your dad and godfather were the creators of the Marauder’s Map. Did they ever know you had it?”

“When Harry got it confiscated he did spill my name to uncle Remus. Thankfully he wasn’t too upset and said that if anyone should’ve found it, he was glad the first one to was an heir to the Map’s secrets.”

“Uhh technically it was me who found it.”

“Yeah but who was the one to figure out its secret message?” I shook my head softly laughing as I reached for the last nougat on the plate.

“Do you remember the Quidditch World cup?” I turned to him perplexed.

“I don’t think anyone could ever forget what happened that night.”

“I know but that’s not exactly what I was referring to. I’m talking about before all that mess with the Death Eaters. Traveling through port key, getting ready for the tournament match, the after-party victory celebration over Ireland’s victory.” George said as he inched himself closer and closer to me until his arm was wrapped behind me as it rested on the couch.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” That whole day was in fact a memorable one, probably the most fun I’ve had in a long while since the constant threat of Voldemort returning to Hogwarts since Harry’s arrival.

“That day was honestly the best day of my life. And it wasn’t just because of Ireland’s victory.”

“And what was the reason for it being the best day of your life Georgie?” I felt him stroke his thumb along my shoulder and a shiver went down my spine.

“Because it made me realize what you truly meant to me.”

“George…..”

“I know I’m rubbish for saying this now! You’re hurting and I’m just confusing you but I can’t hold this in any longer. I love you (Y/n) Celeste Black. Ever since the World Cup, my feelings for you changed into something greater. I began thinking back on all the little things we went through. Our friendship together and I don’t want to lose that with you so if I just did, you don’t have to say anything, I’ll—”

I ceased his rambling with a kiss.  I felt his body tense up but I separated from him and whispered to him.

“You talk too much.” We then wrapped our arms around each other and kissed each other deeper this time.  Our love and passion coming into this one kiss. 

My hands brushing through his short ginger locks while he pulled me into his lap to the point where I was straddling him and his hands remained at my waist before the need for air became necessary for both of us.

“I love you too George Fabian Weasley. It was at the time of the Yule Ball when my feelings for you began to change. At first I thought I was going mad but I came to accept it, but I was too afraid of losing you. And then losing my….my dad it—”

“I know, I know.” He reached up and placed a hand to my cheek and I nuzzled into his palm and placed my hand on top of his.

“But you became my light in the darkness. Even my dad saw it, I don’t know if he knew it was you specifically but he knew. He told me that I should at least deserve a happy ending in some part of my story after all the pain and loss I’ve been through.”

“And you do. Why else do you think after all these years I try to make you laugh every day? I think that’s the first thing I began to love about you.” I smiled and pressed my forehead against his.

“Is that why you and Fred agreed to allow me to take co-ownership of the shop?”

“Part of it is for that reason. Half of these products come from that brilliant Ravenclaw brain of yours, it’s only fair we give you the credit you deserve.” I smiled softly and brushed my nose against his and he did the same for me.

“I love you, George Fabian Weasley.”

“I love you more (Y/n) Celeste Black, and I solemnly swear to dedicate my life to making you smile and laugh every day for as long as I live.”

“And I solemnly swear the same to you, George Fabian Weasley.” We both kissed each other until a voice interrupted our moment.

“Not that I don’t enjoy you two lovebirds finally admitting your feelings for one another, I could do without seeing you two snogging first thing in the morning.” George and I separated and it turned out that Fred was right, the two of us had stayed up all night talking and reliving old and fond memories.

“Sorry Fred.” I said to him as I got off of George’s lap.

“Don’t got to apologize to me.” He set his tea down before walking over to us, he sat on his usual spot to my left and brought me into a hug.  He rubbed my arm soothingly as he whispered, “Welcome to the family, sis.” He said to me softly before kissing the top of my head and whispered in my ear, “Though honestly and no judgement against you but I think you chose the wrong twin.”

“Oi!” exclaimed George which made me softly laugh.

“Nice try.” I playfully mocked.

“Sure I can’t convince you otherwise?”

“Fraid not, my heart’s made its choice.” I said looking up at him.  Fred looked down at me with those soft brown eyes of his.

“Can’t argue with that logic.” Fred shrugged.  “You’ve got a good one Georgie, don’t screw it up.” Fred kissed the top of my head again before leaving his couch.  “It’s opening day today you lot, time to look our best and open this shop for business.”

“Will you be alright? We did just stay up all night after all.” I asked George.

“I’ll be fine, past few weeks have been all-nighters anyway. Besides, Fred and I promised to show you the surprise we had in store for you together.”

“And you really can’t even give me a hint as to what it could be?”

“Well…..” he sang out in a stretch before simply saying, “Nope. You’ll just have to wait love.” I let out a groan as I splayed myself across his lap.

“You know I hate surprises.”

“But unlike most surprises we spring on you, this is one I know you’ll love.” He said stroking through my hair.  “Now come on love,” he bent down and softly kissed my lips.  “We’ve got a big day ahead of us and I could do with some of your famous blueberry pancakes.” I sat up and together George and I walked toward the kitchen to get our day started.

As the day went on and the opening became such a huge success, I thought back to dad’s conversation that last Christmas we spent together.  Being with the boys and helping them with their shop, George and I now finally able to be together as a couple, the darkness that once surrounded my world was starting to grow brighter as the weight of his death was slowly being lifted.

I held my locket tightly in my palm as I closed my eyes and sighed deeply thanking both him and mum.  I was gonna try to hold onto the light that I now had in the darkness, and never let it go.

[reds-writings]

souls further entwined

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: finally an update for these two! sorry to keep you waiting! I've got a lot of life changes in the works so updates might come a little slower over the next few months depending but i hope this tides y'all over for a bit! this takes place sometime after if only tonight we could sleep

word count: roughly 2.5k

warnings: (PLEASE LOOK BEFORE CONTINUING) discussions of abortion, child loss, forced/unsafe medical procedures, bad family situations, angst angst, cursing, semi-not-so-smut at the end, minors avert your gaze or else!!

The hidden gem of a restaurant that Rust had brought you to somewhere in the French Quarter was rather nice with its live jazz band playing in the corner and lavish decor. The tinkering of silverware layered on top of the low rumblings of fellow diners did what it could to fill the void of silence that had long settled between you and the man sitting adjacent. He had spontaneously asked you– well more like told you to go out with him tonight. Something about wanting to do things right once and for all after all this tiptoeing around.  The whole notion had taken you off guard, admittedly.

You’d been buzzing so bright leading up to tonight that you could've probably put a lightning bug to shame. He’d asked you on a real date. A step forward from the semi-clandestine meetings you’d both been settling on for far too long now. It was unlike him to outwardly admit to much but you doubted it was a wide occurrence that he’d take a girl on a date just because he was bored. This had meaning.

With that thought swirling in mind, you’d found your best dress and took what constituted as way too long of a pampering shower to best prepare for a promising night out with the man you'd become so deeply enamored with. It wasn’t often you got to get all prettied up for some fun given that work always managed to swallow you whole. 

God you’d been so excited. 

From the time you’d gotten into Rust’s Ford up until you’d sat down to eat he had yet to utter a single word to you. Hell, he’d hardly even managed to look at you either and it was starting to cause a distasteful rock that went by the name of dread to sink lower and lower in your gut. 

Dexterous fingers stayed picking at the table cloth as a form of lengthy distraction and you fought the bubbling urge to snatch his hand and demand what gives. It wasn’t hard to miss the anxiety bleeding from his form with those tense shoulders and that telltale faraway look in his eyes. You didn’t want to continue the cycle of jumping to conclusions when it came to the routine lack of forthcoming involving his more vulnerable thoughts out of insecurity so you bit the bullet,

“Y’know…usually on a date there’s a bit more talkin;. Maybe startin’ with questions like ‘what’s your favorite color’-- it’s blue by the way, or ‘where’d you get that lovely dress’. Could also do with lookin’ a little less green in the gills.”

That got him to stop fidgeting but a response was not yet prompted. You sighed and looked down at the vibrant cloth napkin in your lap,

“If you’re startin’ to regret this we can just forget about it and head back-”

“I don’t know if I can be what you need.” He all but blurted and it had your head shooting back up in suprise.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t…I don’t find myself being suited for marriage like before. I can’t give you kids because I don’t think it’s right-”

“Wait a minute just-...slow your roll for a second.” Your mind was going a mile a minute at his frank outburst and you were having trouble pinpointing just where it all came from. 

“First of all, I don’t necessarily need the promise of marriage to feel fulfilled. I’m about to hit 30 soon enough and I’ve supplied plenty for myself that I'm not sure some flimsy marriage papers can add on to. I’m not just sayin’ all this to make you feel better either so don’t go down that route.” You were tenderly stern in your delivery to make sure what you were saying was actually sticking without sounding offended.

All he could give was a slight nod as the tip of his thumb came to his mouth: a nervous tic.

“Secondly…” You cleared your throat slightly and gave yourself a moment of pause. The latter concern wasn’t that of an easy subject. For either of you. Besides your family and probably Marty, not many knew of your reality when it came to the idea of starting a family. 

“I can’t have children. So that wouldn’t even be on the table to begin with I suppose.” 

That seemed to stun Rust. His expression working out how, what, and when this came to be. You cleared your throat again. Talking about it was never easy no matter how much time passed.

“The gist of it is…well I got knocked up when I was sixteen. Total accident, shocker. And um…my pa didn't approve. Not one bit, bein’ the respectable county figure he was as a seasoned lawyer n' all.” 

Your sinuses began to sting but you willed away any threat of tears as you tried to explain. Rust didn't say a word, his expression hardening minutely with a knowing sense of where this was headed.

“I didn’t wanna listen. I was scared of course but the boy I was foolin’ around with at the time was nice and had a family who wanted to be involved so that was enough for me. My uppity family could shove it for all I cared,” You scoffed wryly but continued, “But pa was adamant. He couldn’t have some little whore of daughter muckin’ things up but we were a church family so abortion was obviously out of the question. At least one would think that was the case,” 

“Long story short he dragged me to some back alley clinic where things would be kept under wraps. They fuckin’ botched it of course and made me sterile. Didn’t really know how bad it was until another loss and a visit with the doctor after trying with a serious boyfriend some time ago…” You shrugged as you fiddled with your unused silverware. You hadn’t spoken with your family since then. Letting you be mutilated for the sake of preserving a frivolous public image was a hard thing to let go of.

You remember how sick you were afterward. Infection from the procedure and a decent amount of blood loss, go figure. You only recall the house's maids nursing you back.

Your pa had never been able to look you in the eye again. Your mama just pretended nothing had ever happened the way it did.

Sometimes your mind had the habit of taking a dark turn every now and then, wondering if they would’ve felt any remorse if their forced course of action ended up actually killing you. With a selfishness like they had you couldn't help but doubt it. 

They had always taken more pride in your sister anyway. 

“So yeah…you don’t have to worry about the possibility of kids when it comes to me. It’s not like with our line of work it’d be much of a good idea anyway. Marty’s a prime example I'd reckon.” Your laugh was brittle in a weak attempt to lift the heavy weight you felt like you’d set over the mood. 

Rust’s large hand reached over to encase your shaking one to garner your attention. Looking up you weren’t met with pity or disgust, but with recognition. One shared in the experience of grief. Of having something meant to be so precious ripped from you in the cruelest of ways. He didn’t feel sorry for you. He understood you. More than anyone else had or could. 

“You’re enough for me, Rust. I don’t know if you’ve noticed by now but there’s not much you can do to send me runnin’ for the hills. I like you as you are and I don’t need more. I wouldn’t expect you to change your mind over somethin’ like that anyway. It just wouldn’t be fair to ask.” His eyes glazed over at your words and he had to let go of the troubled breath he’d been holding. He brought your hand to his lips and kept them there as an unspoken thank you. 

After a moment or two he set your hand back on the tabletop, still grasped in his. 

“How about we find some shitty dive and let loose over there. This place is startin’ to feel a lil’ too stuffy for me.” Your light-hearted jab made the corner of his lips quirk up before he nodded,

“Yes, ma'am.” 

—

After a relaxing drive accompanied by the tunes of Willie Nelson in search of a dive bar that was sufficient enough, the ice from all the worries of earlier had melted as fast as they had formed. The establishment you ended up coming across was a more than welcome change of pace compared to that of the restaurant (as lovely as it was). It wasn’t big by any means but there was room to dance and plenty of open spots to sit around and drink. 

You looped your arm through his and leaned into his side as you made your way to settle down. There wasn’t enough time or clarity earlier to truly appreciate just how good he looked for the occasion but now you had all the time in the world to shamelessly ogle.

He’d donned a black dress shirt, forgoing a tie and leaving a few buttons undone in a way that had you feeling dizzy, as well as a nice fitting pair of jeans that had plenty of passersby’s eyes glued to his shapely form.

“The ladies of Louisiana might just beat me up for a chance with you. If your face ain’t motivation enough your ass surely will be.” You nudged him and he shook his head mirthfully. 

“One would say jealousy is unbecoming.”

“Who said anythin’ about jealousy? I’ve earned my stake in claimin’ you as eye candy fair and square. They can try all they want but they were just too slow to the draw.”

“With your pension for being scrappy, I’d say they wouldn’t have much of a chance to begin with.” 

“Gee, is that the only reason they don’t stand a chance?” You quirked a brow. You knew the answer but pestering him to fess up hardly ever got you far. 

“What d’ya wanna drink, Miss Envy.” He drawled, not one to fall into your traps so easily and you flicked him with narrowed eyes.

“Last time I checked my name don’t even come close to rhymin’ with envy so you can quit with that.” 

The shithead just smirked.

“I’ll take a jack and coke. Now run along.” You waved him away and he just shook his head. In his short absence you’d found a high top and decided to claim as your territory for the night. The music was clearer over this way and your heart jumped at the beginning notes of Fleetwood Mac’s Beautiful Child.

Upon his return, Rust had hardly been able to set the drinks down before you were grabbing at him to park yourselves out on the dancefloor. A few other couples were swaying in place so you figured it wouldn’t be all that awkward to steal a moment for yourselves.

It was strange, being able to be so open in your affections without the curious eyes of Marty or anyone else from the precinct to make judgments. You could just be yourselves. It was a breath of fresh air after all this time.

As the song gained momentum, you wrapped your arms around his neck, toying with the hairs at his nape while his strong ones made home around your waist to pull you in closer. A small spark of pride lit up your chest at him being able to be this comfortable with you.

As you rested your head along the expanse of his chest you felt the feather-light stamp of his kiss at your crown. The tenderness of the simple act almost had you turning into one hell of a mush puddle. You settled on burrowing deeper if that were any more possible as Stevie sang on. Fighting the effect he had on you was always going to be a losing battle. 

You wouldn’t trade this moment for a damned thing. 

—

It was nearing almost three in the morning by the time you arrived back home. Your mind had been pleasantly warmed by the drinks and all the dancing. Rust even seemed to have a newfound glow to him and it was triggering something innately carnal in you. 

Taking an opportunity from the pocket of silence, you scooted along the Ford’s bench seat to make a place for yourself along his lap. 

The relaxed daze displayed across his features was something you’d never had the pleasure of seeing before. It was nothing like the faraway trance he’d trap himself in with all the pills and whatnot in fruitless efforts of chasing undisturbed sleep. No, this was true content. 

“I had a good time.” You didn’t mean to sound so coy but it couldn’t be helped as your hands crept up to frame his fine face.

“That’s good. I’m glad.” He hummed as he took in every feature your beautiful face had to offer. It was like striking gold. Especially in this expansive wasteland of a state.

“When we get a chance we should do it again. S’nice to go out…feel normal…” Hair lying in his line of light distracted you as you moved it out of the way with a gentle sweep. The truck’s cab could probably burst with the steadily increasing tension so you did what any normal woman would do with such a man in front of them and kissed him with all you had. 

It started out syrupy and languid as if you had all the time in the world to be out macking in the car like a pair of careless teenagers. Your skin hummed like a live wire at his sudden grasp on the plush fat of your hips which served as the green light to go further. 

Your delicate fingers carded through his soft waves as the muscle of his tongue took dominance over the kiss. A meek whimper cracked within your throat as you tried to keep up with what little oxygen you had remaining. When Rust kissed, it was all-consuming. It was no act he took passively when it came to you which had been made crystal clear to you by now. With each pass of his wet-hot caress, you could feel everything he wanted to say to you without complication of expression through words. 

His mouth traveled across the apple of your cheek down the expanse of your neck, nipping and sucking with such lax reverence it had you arching as if you could fuse your ribs with his. Souls to be permanently intertwined.

With a starting grind of your hips that your body had no willpower to control you could feel him hardening with each intensifying roll. His choked moan had you remembering where you were and you’d be damned if your first actual night with him was in this old, damned truck right outside your house. 

“D’ya wanna take this inside?” You offered in a breathless huff, trying to catch your breath in vain. You’re sure that even in the dark of the truck’s cabin the heat of your face could set the whole space aglow. He nipped at your bottom lip and soothed it with another peck,

“I would.”

The sudden tangle of limbs clambering to make haste towards the beacon of your front door would’ve been downright hysterical had you any hubris. 

a/n: sorry to blue ball you lmao. I HOPE THIS WASN'T CRINGE AHHHHH. i'll probably come back and edit this later. feedback is always appreciated!

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Big Plans - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

cw: sex, angst

Let's proceed to the next stage.

The Day of Ash. Its conclusion's already foregone, and he has little patience for repetition. But this part is key.

For context's sake, it bears revisiting.

The scene's already been painted. If a courtroom were a stage, the gallery would be breathless for the denouement. Which will arrive, and in due course. As the High Priestess says: Patience is the companion of wisdom.

For now, picture this:

The banquet at the Last Drop, and Fissurefolk with crumbs clinging to their smiles. The songs, the stories, the slow-reeling hours.  The bundt cake had been served up in generous helpings, each portion with a dollop of sugar. Sweetness: too rich to taste of scarcity.

Too real to taste the bitter arsenic of disaster.

In the backroom, Sevika treated Silco to a different song. They'd swapped a stogie of potent brightleaf, each drag burning a sultry line from throat to belly. Silco had draped a stolen sheepskin pelt on the floorboards, and spread Sevika down upon it.  Her nails were in his back, and her tongue filled his mouth, and her sighs filled the air.

"Fuck me," she said. "Fuck me now."

He went into her, exquisitely slick depths parting for him, inch by inch. His vision blotted out to static, his ears ringing bells. Outside, the thunderstorm of boots and bodies gathered its charge.

That is how he recalls that final night.

Everything hung in perfect equilibrium. One side tilting toward delirium; the other, disaster.

They kissed and gasped and kissed again. His teeth closed around her bottom lip, piercing its fullness. He swallowed her sounds as they rocked together, slow and steady. Every second of pleasure counted. Every gasped cry and shivered moan were an offering. 

To gods unnamed; or to Zaun.

When you fuck and live, you fuck for them both.

His climax was a gut-shot—bang, bang, bang, nailed to completion. He collapsed against her, sobbing behind gritted teeth. Sevika's own climax was unending. Every small movement set off an aftershock that fluttered from her womb all the way to her eyelashes. By the end, they were gummed wetly together with tears.

From rawness of hurt and hope and whatever lay beneath.

After, they lay in a languid, sweat-sticky tangle. Their heavy breaths sawed through the dusty air. The stillness felt holy. As if they'd found some secret within themselves, and were listening to it resonate. Sevika nuzzled into the damp hairs curling over at his temple. Silco dropped a wet kiss to the hollow of her throat, followed by a hard, deliberate rasp of stubbled cheekbone between her breasts. The burn glowed in his wake.

Even then, he'd liked to leave marks. Reminders of where she belonged. With him, and the future they'd seize. No takebacks; no middle ground. 

Glory or dust.

Sevika jittered out a sigh. "Sil?"

"Mmm?"

"When all this is over..." Her fingertips traced his hairline. "What d'you want to do?" 

"What?" he murmured, barely cogent. "Why think of that now?" 

"Just... something I'm tellin' myself. For motivation's sake."

"We're motivated."

"We are." She kissed him again: soft, sweet, uncertain. "Still. I wanna hear. You fought for this shit your entire life. Thought you might have plans for after."

"Visualizing, are we?"

"Well, yeah. Like, I see myself walking on the Bridge, without getting frisked. Without those degrading searchlights and the names they call us. You know what I mean, right?" 

"I do." Silco's jaw hardened. "Personally, I'd tear the Bridge down. Reroute everything so we aren't dependent on one mode of transit across the Pilt.  Our harbor still opens out to sea. Our trade could be redirected. We could do business with foreign merchants. I've no doubt there's a market for our wares across Runeterra. Places less sanctimonious and more eager to profit."

"What wares?"

"The gold and gems. But there's more to our domestic industry than the treasures below. You've seen the construction boom in Topside's residential sectors. All from our marble, our slate, our granite. Once Zaun's ours, we'd tap into that sector. No need for a bridge. Or the thieves squatting on the other end."

"See? You do have big plans!"

"Schematics. That's all."

"Helluva lot more than most of us got." Cupping his head in both hands, she sought his eyes. "What else?"

He rested his interlaced palms on her sternum, and his chin atop them.  "Reforms. Top to bottom. Law, infrastructure, security. Chaos without an axis devolves a society to madmen. But we won't survive as a monoculture, either. A diversified economy's the best path forward. We could open our borders to trade with merchants from across Valoran. Build the docks into proper berths, so we're dealing with international vessels on our terms, without them trying to get a foothold in our territory." His eyes slitted, drowsy yet speculative. "What we need is a haven for entrepreneurs and free thinkers alike."

"People who'll treat us as equals instead of animals?"

He grinned: a tiny bite of incisors into her skin. "Exactly. A whole world of profit's out there. We'll tap into it. Show the world that we're more than just gutter-trash."

"And here, I'd be satisfied with a plumbing system that doesn't freeze my tits off come winter."

"Copper piping—" he was warming to the subject— "is where the solution lies. We'll invest in citywide upgrades. A sewage network that leads to treatment plants outside of town. Lessens the runoff so the river fish are fit to eat year-round. We'd also start a sanitation corps. Their sole objective would be to rid the streets of refuse."

"Big plans. Real big." Her touch didn't falter, but he felt a shift in her voice. A sidestep more than a withdrawal. "What about... y'know. The kids?"

 A chill crept through Silco. Gently, he disentangled, easing himself upright. His bare arms roped around his knees. He let out a slow breath, measuring how much to reveal.

Then—

"More reforms. Loads of 'em. No more debts inherited from parent to child. Anyone in arrears would be offered financial advice, and legal recourse. Then there's the quality of education. Most sumpsnipes can barely scrawl their names. How's a nation meant to advance if its children can't count coin? Universal schooling is the least Zaun can provide. Medical centers that offer basic services. Soup kitchens with free meals. All of it must happen, if our folk are to succeed."

"Mighty generous. What's the catch?"

"No catch. Only stipulations." He met her eyes, aglow in the gloom. "These children have spent a lifetime dodging Topside boots. They should be given safe spaces, where they can explore their talents. Without the constant threat of those spaces being torn down, the way our orphanages were."

"Some of those little boot-dodgers could do with a kick, though."

"Maybe. But there's a difference between coddling and support."  His palm rolled open. An invisible blade balanced on either side: compromise and conviction. "The right to learn in safety is as necessary as the freedom to grow from mistakes. The kids would get their licks. But they'd also get a choice." His voice softened. "The rest would follow."

Sevika softened in turn. "Knew it."

"Knew what?"

"You're a big sap when it comes to kids."

"Quit taking the piss."

She shook her head. "Always knew you cared. Deep down. Otherwise, why go through with this at all?" Her palm squeezed his forearm; a caress bordering on worship. "It's gonna change, Sil. You'll change it. The kids'll have better than we ever did."

Her eyes met his. The compassion seared. Because of course she could see straight through him, to the gnashing fears hidden below. Same way he could see through her, to the long-dead hopes buried in her bones.

Like fossils: fragile but irrefutable.

They'd been told since birth they were inferior, and inferior beings must perish. Yet they'd survived. Doggedly, brutally, defiantly. And having done so, deserved a shot at more.

Tonight, they'd seize it. They'd turn the tables forever.

No fairness; only equity.

"After..." Sevika swallowed. "Y'think we'll have something more stable?"

"Stable?"

"Y'know. More than night-rallies, and smuggling and stabbing bootlickers in back alleys."

"Why? Got the itch to settle down?"

A flush stole across her cheeks. Her eyes cut away. "Nah. Just wondering."

"Wondering what?"

"Don't make me spell it out."

A few beats. Then realization sank home. The ice thawed; a smile crept across Silco's lips.

"Are you implying...?"

"What?" Sevika challenged, knowing exactly what was implied. The blush deepened, a charming mottle of deep rose. In a fistfight, she was seldom caught off-kilter. But intimacy always did it for her; abraded the roughness down to the girl she'd been: bruises on her knees and big dreams tucked close to her heart.

Like his stolen bergamots stuffed in her pockets.

"Say it, love," he goaded gently.

"Naw."

"Say it."

"Fuck off!"

"Say it, or I'll guess." He slid back down into the lovely warm circle of her arms. His head settled into the lovelier, warmer declivity between her breasts. He nuzzled, playfully. "Are you, by chance, expressing an interest in—don't be shy—sharing your bolthole?"

"Never... never said that." But she was shivering; a different thrill entirely. "Just wondering if I should start clearing out some drawers."

"Making room, hmm?"

"Place could do with a fixer-upper."

"My skillset does extend to home repairs."

She scoffed. "Being handy with a hammer's not a skillset." But her arms found their home around him, as he found his in the shelter of her. "We could split chores."

"Equitable distribution of labor?"

"Someone cooks, someone scrubs the dishes. Someone sets the table, someone brews the tea..."

"Better be me. Not sure I'd survive another mug of leaves-and-grit."

Her ribcage jerked; a peal of laughter that threatened to break into tears. Silco's own chest felt vaguely smothered. By emotion; by hope.

They'd seen enough of sorrow for a lifetime. Why not dream a little?

 "Let's see," he went on, kissing his way from one breast to the next. "The labor's divvied. But what about the living space? It'd need renovations. New plaster for the ceiling, so the cockroaches don't rain down from the cracks. New floorboards, too. Solid wood so the place stays dry. Nothing like this—" He rapped his knuckle against the nearest plank, eliciting a resounding echo of termite damage, "—so during our more, ah, exuberant endeavors, we don't drop down two stories and land right in old Josiah's stewpot."

This time, her laughter bubbled up without reserve. "Soundproof the walls, too. So the neighbors don't cuss us out every night."

"And morning."

"And evening."

"And afternoon."

"And—" Her laughter sank, husky; the kissing had become an openmouthed sampling, "—whenever we feel like it."

"There's the spirit."  He lapped the roseate bloom of one aureole, savoring her whimper. "What else? Oh. A balcony facing south, with geranium pots. Or a row of night-blooming jasmine. You could dry the petals, press them, crush them for sachets. Or better yet, grow your hair long and wind the flowers through it."

"Fucking sap. My hair's not fit for braids. Gets greasy five seconds after washing." The laughter ebbed. Her mood receded into something both sweeter and more pained. "Nothing like Nandi's."

"Nothing like Nandi," he agreed.

He felt it immediately: the full-bodied flinch, struggling and failing to disguise itself. But he understood. It wasn't envy; only memory. Loss was loss. There was no cure but time.

The question was how much to steal.

Taking her chin, he kissed her again. Kissed the burn to bed; the flame to smoke. He made love to her lips until they parted. Until that sweet pain ebbed, into the background, where it belonged. Her thighs shifted, enfolding his hips; her breath stirred on hungry hums. Each kiss tasting like a gift she couldn't give herself.

A gift he couldn't deny her.

She'd never be Nandi. Nor would she ever stop feeling her sister's absence. But he wasn't here, on the last night before the final charge, for a specter.  

He wanted what they had now, real and alive between them.

A second chance.

"Listen, love," he breathed, thumbing the wetness beneath her eyes. "No one will ever replace your sister. No one. But you are your own. And you're mine. And I swear to you—if tonight doesn't fuck us into the ground—we'll do everything we've planned. We'll fix up that bolthole. Fix up this whole damned city. And then we'll live our fucking lives."

"Sap," she said again.

"Not if it's true."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He held her gaze. "Do you want it?"

"Want what?"

"All of it. The balcony with geraniums. The jasmine in your hair. The new roof, and new walls. The new life." His stare deepened. "With me."

She bit her lip; the flush faded into resolve. "Yeah."

"So let's have it."

"With what coin, Sil?"

"I've got a cache of loose rubies in my mattress. You're welcome to pocket a few, as a down-payment. Hell, if it means selling all my loot in the lockbox, we'll do it. If we've got to wait fifteen years before we can afford even one seed of jasmine, we'll still do it." A sudden honesty creased the conversation, cutting through their banter. "Anything. Everything. As long as you're game."

For a moment, she looked at him, as if seeing beyond his words. Her pragmatism never failed, even when her temper veered off course. But it was as if his confession had opened a different door, and longing beckoned.

There were many avenues they'd never gone down. Places they'd both learned were dangerous: Tomorrow and Always; Safe and Sound; Nothing's lost and Anything's Possible.

Paths that weren't lies but far-off lights in the distance. Too far to cross on foot.

But now...

"Would everything," she whispered, "include the usual?"

"The usual?"

"I mean… d’you see yourself wanting a family?"

Silco fell still.

"An anklebiter, or two? The chance to do better for someone than anyone's ever done for us?"

The stillness deepened. Their stares locked. The silence looped into an eternal second. In that space, Bloody Sunday’s screams echoed and re-echoed.

"I...I don't know," Silco said at last. "Maybe not now. But... someday."

"Someday?"

"When Zaun is real. When this city stands on its own. When the future's set in stone, not a whisper in the wind." He smoothed the furrow between her brows, trying for levity. "Why? Don't tell me you've slipped your dose?"

"'Course not!" she snapped. "I take that crap everytime we go to bed!"

"But you've thought about the alternatives."

She chewed the corner of her lip, rolling the answer around. The dream was no longer dead in her eyes. It had transformed. "I think..."

"What?"

"Someday."

"Someday?"

"Zaun's gotta be real, first." She cupped his left cheekbone. The future pulled them down, into each other's grip. The scent of jasmine blooming from somewhere unseen. "And Zaun needs you, Sil. So after everything goes down... after things settle..."

"...there's more to look forward to." His face split on a smile. Contentment finding a home in their shadows. "Forward being the operative word."

"Damn straight."

He shut his eyes, drinking in the heat at the crook of her neck. The rest of him sank against her body. Down between her thighs, to that familiar dip that was wet and waiting for him. To a place that kept him warm, but one he couldn't lay claim to as a home. Not yet.

But someday. 

Yes.

And just like that, the revolution burned bright. On a peltstrewn-strewn pallet on the backroom floor, they began making their plans all over again.

"Marble stairs," he breathed, as he slid inside her. "Lapis-laid floors."

"Fucking bougie," she gasped, palms starfishing his hips. "I'd never set foot on 'em."

"I'd haul your arse inside by the ankles. Every day. With fresh jasmine twined in your hair..."

"Greasy fucking hair..."

"Beautiful hair." His head hung down, forehead touching hers. Her lashes fanned velvet over his cheek; her breaths grew short against his throat. "Shining and strong, and I swear—"

"Swear...?"

He rolled his hips, dragging himself over her sweet-spot, just the way she liked. Her belly quaked; her head tossed back on a cry.

"I swear it'll only be the start."

"Yeah?"

"Hmm." He thrust deeper, dizzy on her rising sobs. "Zaun's owed so much more. And we'll take it all. Everything."

"Everything," she groaned, arching up to take him fully. "Everything, fuck..."

"Like that?"

"Gods, Sil, don't fucking stop—"

Silco's spine tautened. His body had gone rigid, poised at breakage. Still he held himself steady, prolonging the moment as he did the promise.

Each syllable sinking deeper than a knife to the gut. The cuts would last a lifetime, but the scars would be worth it.

They'd last the distance when all else bled away.

Sevika shuddered; a tear slid over her temples, vanishing into the darkly clinging hair along her scalp. It was greasy, from hard hours of work, and the slew of harder nights leading to this. But it was beautiful, too, for how alive it was: how resilient she was.

How real she felt, falling apart beneath him. Keeping him tethered in all the places he was unraveling, too.

When she came down, she was laughing again. Laughing, and crying, both.

"Not the worst thing," she gasped, "a girl could hear before dying."

"Fuck that," he gritted, locking in for the home stretch. His nerves sang high; a keening pitch he chased the limit. "You'll die old. On—on feather pillows and cotton sheets. After a full life of scrapping, and the best bloody sleep you've. Ever. Had."

"And y-you...?"

"Me?"

"You'll be there?"

He caught her hand, kissing her rough knuckles. "No."

She gasped as he pinned her arms above her head. Sank his full weight down, till the burn between their bodies, blissful bright electricity, stole every doubt beyond the room.

Wiped everything beyond the moment.

"I'm not dying," he grunted, seconds from bursting, "until Zaun's come to life."

She shuddered. He surged. The finish struck like lightning.  Bright static spooling through his skull to ignite a fire in the blackness.

Revolution was like that: just another word for apocalypse, stripped of the terrors.  Not that they'd be spared the latter. Freedom always had a price. Always broke bones and bruised souls.

But the vows, in their shared gutter-tongue, were binding. Full of crude designs and raw hopes, but as real as that night.

Real as the scars.

[maidflowery]

Fortified Wager ♠♠♠ 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 12

♦︎♦︎ Aventurine x Reader ♦︎♦︎ 𝕀𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕

🄱🄰🄲🄺 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ １１】

𝕋𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥

Goodbye, My Favorite Gambler

╔══ ≪ ♣♥♣ ≫ ══╗

“Aventurine—! Watch out—!”

You pulled him, not knowing where the strength came from. In the next moment, the position was reversed, with Aventurine beneath you. Even he was surprised, his eyes widening. You shielded him, desperate to protect every inch of him.

“BOTH YOU AND THAT WORTHLESS SLAVE CAN DIE TOGETHER—!!”

Please, just not Aventurine...!

Such was your heartfelt prayer as you clenched your teeth, bracing for the impact.

Instead of bone-wrecking pain, you felt an arm wrap around your back, pulling you into a tight, protective embrace.

Then, you heard him speak, right beside your ear.

“Fortified Wager.”

“WHAT?!”

You heard Big Baddie screaming for some reason, but before you could figure out why, there was a piercing bang, followed by the loud crash of something splintering apart.

And yet, there was no pain, only a relentless, blinding light that pierced even through closed eyelids. There were gasps and murmurs, mostly out of admiration.

“L-let go of me—!!”

Amid the commotion, you heard Big Baddie screaming in protest.

What is going on...?

You tried to get up, but the arm around your back refused to budge, pressing you firmly against his chest.

...Right.

Now that everything had settled down(?), you became increasingly aware of your predicament—namely, that you were trapped between his rock-solid embrace and a hard place.

Okay, maybe not so hard. The refreshing and familiar scent of pine and ripe fruits filled your nostrils. Your face was enveloped in firm, supple tenderness all around. Amid the gentle rise and fall of his chest, you could hear the rhythmic beat of his heart. Despite the growing noise around you, his heartbeat was the only sound you could register.

...Along with your increasing suffocation.

“Haa! ...Uh! Haa...! I—!”

It was only when you were gasping for breath, lightly but rapidly tapping his chest, that he finally let you go.

“Pwah! What on earth just?!”

You instantly sat up, turning around.

“...Wow—!”

Nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to witness.

The darkness of the night stretched endlessly beyond the window, yet all around you was bright, as if it was in the middle of the day. Even more brilliant than the moon shining in the sky was the second sun in front of you—a radiant golden shield. Light pulsed from its translucent surface, which shimmered like the facets of a gem.

At that moment, you realized what it was—magic. Or at least, that was the term used here on your humble planet, Aerth, where the majority of the population were non-magic users.

Beyond the shield lay the scattered remnants of the poker table, with bottles and glass shards strewn everywhere. Big Baddie sat not too far away, with his arm twisted behind his back by a tall man with stone-gray hair—the Dealer.

“Let go—!! I said, let fucking go—!!”

Big Baddie struggled with all his might, but to no avail. In contrast, the Dealer simply maintained his friendly smile while restraining Big Baddie’s arm with one hand. Seeing a huge guy being held back by a man half his size was such a comical sight.

He’s POWERFUL, alright!  

Amid all the thrashing, you couldn’t help but notice that Big Baddie’s nose was as red as a reindeer's. A few shallow cuts criss crossed his face. According to the law of physics, when an immovable object meets an unstoppable force, the strongest one prevails! (Source: Trust me, bro.)

A simpler explanation was that he probably got hit by a chunk of the table and flying glass shards. The whole place was a mess, anyway. Wood chunks and glass shards, ranging from tiny to large, littered the nearby floor. And yet, none of it even scratched you, all thanks to someone.

You gleefully turned around, your heart brimming with gratitude.

“Aventurine, thank yo—hya!”

But the moment you laid your gaze on him, your eyes went wide as saucers, and your jaw almost fell to the floor.

Violet-cyan eyes narrowed tenderly, shimmering with festive, colorful flash of lights

“Shouldn’t that be my line?” he spoke in a mellifluous voice. “Were you trying to protect me?”

A delightful grin tugging at his slightly parted lips. It was neither the smug smile of a lucky gambler on a winning streak, nor the playful grin of a flirt who teased you endlessly, nor the cold, calculating smile you never knew he had.

Be it his gaze, smile, or voice—they were all dripping with sweetness, like honey.

Under normal circumstances, you’d have exploded instantly.

B-but, this is just...!

Wildly tousled blond hair, gleaming gold in the light. A long, golden scarf lies carelessly across the carpet, abandoned in the heat of the moment.

After falling to the floor, calling his attire disheveled was an understatement—his shirt was wide open!! Rather than “protecting” him, it just looked like you had pushed down your idol and pounced on him!!

Moreover, not only did you get a full view of his broad, firm chest, but also the lipstick mark planted right in the middle!

Goddamn it! Whose brilliant idea was it to put so much lip tint?!

That was right: yours. Wanting to go above and beyond as Aschenputtel, the bad girl waitress, you applied more lip tint than usual to achieve a flaming shade of red.

Not wanting to be known as ‘that one rabid fan who defiled Aventurine’, you instinctively reached toward the mark—i.e., his chest, but your common senses prevailed at the last second.

Hold on, Sister! What are you trying to do there?!

The only thing that made this an accident was the lack of intent behind it. Had you succumbed to your impulse, it’d have become a full-blown assault case.

What am I supposed to do?!

You were panicking and screaming internally. If only someone—anyone—would tell you what to do next! Heck, you’d even consult an online forum at this point!

Help! A Fangirl Seeking Advice

Hey everyone,

So, a totally embarrassing situation happened, and I need some advice! 😳

Circumstances (totally not my fault, I swear) led me to push down my idol—I know, right?! 😱 Anyway, when I finally sat up, I realized I’d accidentally smeared my lipstick all over his chest! What am I supposed to do now??

Should I:

A. Casually reach out and wipe it off? (Maybe pretend it’s no big deal?) B. Feign obliviousness and just play it cool?

Help a girl out—what’s my next move? 😅

“Leave it be.”

Your idol’s husky voice, rich with smooth allure, pulled you from your reverie.

“H-huh?”

What does he mean by that? Leave WHAT be? It couldn’t be, right...?

When you sneaked a peek at Aventurine, he was grinning ear to ear, glancing at the same spot as you.

Busted. Your idol caught you staring respectfully at his chest.

You turned red from head to toe, like a lobster simmering in a pot.

“N-n-no!! I didn’t mean to!!”

“You can leave it be. I’m honored, actually,” he spoke like a true gentleman, utterly sincere.

“I'm honored,” he said, despite the shame you had brought him. And of all moments to flash that angelic smile, he chose now! He looked just like a sheltered rich heir, bewitched by a rowdy woman on his first-ever night out at a club!

As you were tormented by guilt, you realized something.

Actually, yeah—besides shame, what else did you bring him?

That’s right!! Nothing!!

You had brought him nothing but shame!!!

You crashed his poker game, sat semi-willingly on his lap, made a grand public confession, and, above all, punched his opponent while he was still there, dragging him into the mess. Then he saved you—twice—once after the fight and again during your attempt to save him, reducing him to this hot mess—sorry, mess. Just mess.

Everyone must be ogling him right now! I can’t let this happen! It’s the only right thing to do!

Your urge to wipe off the lipstick was quickly replaced by the urge to cover him up—namely his chest, his chest, and his chest.

—No, that’s not it! I should be thanking him first!

“Above all, I must say, I’m glad the shy and demure Aschen is back. Had she been here the whole time, I might have actually made it through the night without a dozen near heart attacks.” Aventurine smirked, this time openly teasing you.

‘Aschen’...

Your heart fluttered ever so slightly. Gosh, it wasn’t even your real name! What was wrong with you?

Aventurine went on.

“I have plenty to say to you. Now, don’t look so anxious. Naturally, I’d want to fully express my gratitude to my benefactor.” He offered a reassuring smile before tilting his head slightly in invitation. “Shall we find a seat first? Or do you prefer this arrangement? Either works for me,” he said with perfect courtesy, like a gentleman reserving a dinner for his date.

...Wait. ‘This’ arrangement?

—OH, FUCK!!

You'd heard of selective perception before, where someone blocked out shocking details, leading to an incomplete or altered perception of the scene

In your case, it was the fact that you were straddling him—both legs on either side of his waist.

How the fuck did I not—oh, fuck!

A new dark chapter of your life had been released!!

“S-sorry!”

“Haha!”

As you scurried off him, you could hear him chuckle.

...You had to admire the way he casually lay on the floor as if everything were just as it should be. Then it occurred to you—you should have helped him up. Heck, you should have done so from the very start!

You instinctively reached your right hand forward.

...Ah, right.

Only then did you realize your hand was still wrapped around the gems he had given you. Clutching them tightly had become second nature by now.

You opened your palm, presenting it toward him. “Aventurine, I’d like to return these—"

Then, for the second time that night, you saw his ever-present smile vanished without a trace, his violet-cyan eyes widening slightly.

Wondering why, you glanced at your hand.

“Eek!”

Even you couldn’t help but shriek. 

Perhaps because you had been gripping them as if your life depended on it, the facets of the gems—especially the emerald—cut into your palm. They were shallow but still bled, staining the gems with blood.

Gross!

How could you return your idol’s belongings in such a sorry state?! No wonder he was so shocked!

You hurriedly wiped them on your skirt, even polishing them to make them shine again. Then, you examined them under the light.

Okay, as good as new!

“Here!” you smiled as you presented them to Aventurine.

“Keep them, I insist.”

Perhaps thinking you were rejecting out of politeness, Aventurine gave you a coaxing smile, persuading you into accepting his gifts.

Honestly? Every fiber of your being urged you to keep the gems. Who wouldn’t want to be rich? You’d be set for life! You could wash your hands of this traumatic incident, college, tiring part-time jobs—and just go on a trip somewhere! You even pictured yourself buying a mansion with a swimming pool. Let’s not forget a car or two, so you could finally kiss your old work scooter goodbye!

Like, seriously, who could say no to that? Anyone would understand! And he insisted so strongly, rejecting him would’ve felt like an insult!

“I can’t accept these.”

Hearing you said this firmly, Aventurine furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Why? As far as I could tell, you didn’t seem to dislike them.”

“...But they mean the most to you, don’t they?”

You still remembered his words: "This is the most precious item on my person right now."

Hence why you held onto them so tightly.

“...!”

Aventurine seemed to recall that as well. This time, his eyes widened completely in shock, leaving him speechless.

While Aventurine was still stunned, you took his hand, placing the emerald and the sapphire collar pin on top of it.

“That’s why—I can’t accept these.”

Since they were his most valued possessions, they deserved to go to someone he cherished just as much—not someone who relied on liquid courage to offer a few words of support or hid behind a mask to confess.

Naturally, this was just your personal sentiment.

A pair of violet-cyan eyes studied your expression, silently asking, "Why?" before shifting to your scratched-up right palm, as if asking the same question again.

He looked just as lost as when he first asked why you refused them. His hand, where you had placed the gems, remained open.

“—Why? Because a slave gave them to you?”

“Ms. Aschenputtel, I may be worth only a few measly coins, but I can assure you that my gifts are not.”

Back then, despite knowing he had given you these gifts with the utmost sincerity, despite knowing his background, you couldn’t say anything due to sheer panic.

But now, after confessing to him through hell and back, you finally felt you could say it. No, you had to say it while you could.

“Aventurine...”

You locked eyes with him, and he gazed back just as intently. At that moment, it felt as if you two were the only ones in the world.

You gently took his hand in both of yours. “Everything about you is precious to me.”

For a brief moment—ever so slightly—you saw your dear idol’s multicolored eyes falter as myriads of emotions flashed across them.

You were closer than ever, yet impossibly distant.

You, Aschenputtel, a girl who didn’t even exist.

How would he react when he realized that wasn’t even your real name? That you were merely posing as a waiter? That you had been lying right under his nose this whole time?

Surely, once he found out, even the words you were about to say would be dismissed as just another lie.

Aah, truly...

Yours was a meeting not meant to be.

You and he came from two different worlds.

Try as you might, there was a boundary you couldn’t breach—a line you couldn’t cross.

Smile. You had to smile—because tonight would be the last.

“I’ve always been your fan, and I often watched you from afar.”

Amidst the dazzling, shimmering sea of gold he racked overnight, you were akin to a speck of gold dust; drifting, vanishing before you even made your presence known.

Yet, you thought, a glimpse of that pair of cyan layering on violet eyes would suffice.

A fleeting glance on a passing night—for an everlasting dream.

He was an unattainable hope, and you dared not wish for more.

You could no longer see his expression through your blurred vision.

“—Just being able to see you and cheer for you already made me so happy!”

Goodbye, my favorite gambler.

A faint, warm sensation traced a slow path down your cheek. It landed on the emerald in his palm, making the gemstone glisten.

In the next moment, the jewels disappeared from view as he reached toward your face. Your vision cleared at that moment, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his expression.

Was it unwillingness?

“—IT’S THAT BITCH OVER THERE! MAKE SURE YOU CAPTURE HER FIRST!”

Surprised by Big Baddie’s roar, you let go of Aventurine’s hand and turned around.

“Eek!”

“Hey! Watch out!”

In the distance, the crowd murmured in protest as a group of rowdy-looking men in leather jackets forced their way past them. You could tell at a glance that they were Big Baddie’s lackeys.

╚══════╝

🄾🄽🅆🄰🅁🄳 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ １3】

[muffins-saga-archives]

Rosie Quartz ('Granny Pie')

Artist: Reitanna seishin

Date of Upload original: Jun 6, 2015

Original Desc:

this is my version of pinkie pie's grandmother, granny pie. I named her rosie quartz because she is cloudy quartz's mother. I figured that since the MLP universe seems to be female dominated, the family name is passed down through the females instead of the males as it is in our world. cloudy's father is named mudstone, but I'm not going to draw him.

rosie quartz was actually named "rose quartz," but she insisted on going by "rosie." she had inherited the pink gene from her own grandmother, and the gene itself also seems to contribute to a fun loving personality. growing up in a religious household, rosie got her cutie mark after she discovered she enjoyed making jewelry out of gems and rocks she found on the rock farm she grew up on. she was very happy, carefree, and excited about the small things, which was not proper behavior in their community. because of this, she was often accused of being a harlot. her parents set up an arranged marriage with a stallion that was part of another well known religious family, and his name was mudstone. they hoped that he could help ground rosie a bit and calm her down, but it didn't really work. rosie's nickname for mudstone was "muddy," which he hated. she always tried to get him to have a little fun, saying he was so grumpy and never smiled, and mudstone tried his best to make her behave. they ended up having three kids, two daughters, cloudy quartz and amethyst, and a son named garnet. rosie would call amethyst ammy and garnet garnie, which they both hated.

eventually, mudstone became fed up with rosie's wild behavior and filed for divorce through the church. because her nature was so frowned upon in their society, the church granted majority custody of their children to mudstone, allowing rosie to see her kids on the weekends only. so the three foals grew up on their father's rock farm, learning to behave what was considered proper in their community. they did not entirely enjoy visits with their mother because she was all about having fun, and her kids had learned to be more reserved. cloudy looked up to her father the most, so she disliked her mother's antics more than her siblings.

mudstone died a few years after his kids got married and moved to their own rock farms. he had had a stress induced aneurism, and rosie knows it was because he never loosened up. rosie would visit her children and their families every so often, and she ended up seeing cloudy when she was pregnant with minkie pie. the next time she saw cloudy, it was many years later, and inkie pie was the only baby. when inquiring about the first pregnancy, cloudy lied and said she miscarried and didn't want to ever talk about it again, and to never bring it up, especially to her new child once she got older.

rosie's next visit came after blinkie and pinkie were born, pinkie being an infant. rosie was ecstatic to see the filly was born pink, and knew that great things would come from her. after pinkie was born, rosie quartz would visit more often and taught her three granddaughters many things to help reduce stress, anger, fear, and overall boredom. inkie and blinkie were a little unsure if they were allowed to feel the happiness rosie was teaching, but pinkie was intrigued. however, the behavior was always discouraged by their parents, so pinkie remained decently unhappy on the farm, that is, until she got her cutie mark and threw her first party. then the rest of her family loosened up a little, not nearly as much as pinkie herself, but smiling was now not so rare.

pinkie pie left for ponyville before rosie could visit again, and her next visit wouldn't be until inkie got her cutie mark some time later. I've decided that I will write inkie and blinkie's cutie mark stories instead of holding a contest. I have the ideas in my head. rosie quartz will make an appearance in blinkie's story.

her cutie mark was heavily inspired by the simplicity of rarity's cutie mark. this granny pie is canon to muffins, so if the real granny pie ever shows up in the show, that'll just be another universe difference. ALSO, this is where minkie pie got her green eyes. they were inherited from rosie.

~:::UPDATE:::~

okay uh.... apparently there's a very... odd coincidence happening here. I just want to let people know I have NEVER seen the show steven universe. I've never even seen screenshots from it. I have NO idea what it's about, what the artwork looks like, or even what channel it's on. I don't know the characters, what their names are, what they look like, I know absolutely NOTHING about the show. this character is NOT a reference to the show. how could she be? I have never seen it! any similarities is 100% coincidental, and I don't want to hear anything more about it. I'm sorry if I gave people the wrong impression, but I can't be a fan of something I've never EVER seen. thank you.

[myloveobbsessed]

Hello! Same Anon :) I was thinking maybe the reader is a gem miner, and meets chrysalis in the forgotten crystal caves beneath canterlot?

But whatever you write will be amazing either way :)

𝐆𝐞𝐦

•••

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Characters: Chrysalis x fem!pony reader

Notes: - I decided to keep you both ponies for this.

- sry if she's ooc. Haven't watched mlp in a while

•••

You wander the crystal caves beneath Canterlot, chipping away at the stone walls in search of any gems you can find. They always held a certain magic to you glimmering with mesmerizing light even in the dim cavern.

Your pickaxe strikes solid rock again, the familiar clang echoing through the tunnels. A faint glimmer catches your eye another gem embedded deep within. You carefully dig it out and add it to the growing pile in your cart before continuing down the tunnel.

But then…you hear something.

A voice. Distant, echoing faintly off the stone walls.

You pause, brows furrowing. You were certain you were the only one down here.

Curiosity guides your hooves as you follow the sound. The deeper you go, the more you can tell whoever it is, they’re angry. Frustrated. Pacing, muttering, the tone sharp with bitterness.

Rounding a bend, you finally see her.

Another pony or something like one ranting under her breath as she stalks back and forth. Her coat is a deep black, wings thin and insect-like. Her mane flows in long, tangled turquoise strands. Her legs… riddled with holes.

You freeze, unsure whether to stay hidden or speak up.

She hasn’t noticed you. Yet.

“Those ponies! I will get my revenge on Canterlot and Rain Supreme, I will not be defeated”

After another moment of watching her for another moment you show yourself. “Um are you alright?”

The creature whirls around at the sound of your voice.

Her green eyes narrow instantly, slitted pupils locking onto you. Her sharp fangs peek through parted lips as her gaze rakes over you.

She steps forward slowly, wings giving a small buzz, her voice dripping with venom and disbelief. “What are you doing down here, pony?”

You glance at the cart behind you. “I was mining. For gems. I didn’t mean to..um.interrupt your… monologue.”

Her expression darkens. “Monologue? That was not a monologue, it was a vow.” Her voice rises in pitch, bitter and sharp. “One day, Chrysalis will rule over Canterlot and all of Equestria!”

Your ears twitch at the name. Queen Chrysalis. “Who?” you question never hearing the name before.

She goes quiet for a moment “Chrysalis queen of the changelings!” she repeats as if trying to make her title click in your head. Though you both just silently stare at each other you just giving her a small shrug.

Chrysalis rolls her eyes scoffing and turning away. “Insolent!. I will gather my changeling army again and everyone will know me!”

You stare down her turned figure before grabbing one of the gems from your cart, stepping closer you hold it out to her. She glances at you from the corner of her eye. Turning towards you slightly raising a brow.

“What.”

You take another step forward turning her to take it. “For you”

Her eyes narrow “why would I want something as useless as that?”

You smile gently despite her scathing tone. “Because it’s not useless. It’s beautiful. And I think you could use something to cheer you up! You seem very upset”

Chrysalis stomps her hoof glancing at the gem in your hoof then back at you. “a rock will not ‘cheer me up’ what I want is power!”

“Well I dont have any of that to spare” you set the gem down moving it closer to her.

Chrysalis glares at the gem like it personally offended her, her lip curling slightly. “I don’t need charity, especially not from some clueless pony with dirt on her hooves.”

You don’t flinch. “It’s not charity. It’s a gesture.”

“A gesture?” she echoes, sneering.

You nod. “Yeah. Of kindness I don’t know what happened to you or what made you so angry, but… maybe you don’t have to be alone down here.”

Chrysalis doesn’t respond immediately, her eyes locked on the gem. The buzzing of her wings stills for a moment, the cave falling quiet. “You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to drain you dry right now,” she mutters, before adding under her breath.

A pause.

Then, almost grudgingly, she nudges the gem with a hoof and drags it closer to herself.

“…I suppose it is mildly pleasing to look at,” she grumbles. “For a rock.”

Smiling you sit down beside her earning a side-eye. Then there's another beat of silence before she speaks. “Tell me your name and maybe I will spear you from my changeling’s wrath when I rule”

Her words erupt a humorous laugh from you. “You could just ask you know, my name is (y/n)”

Chrysalis huffs, clearly unamused by your laughter, though the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth suggests she doesn’t entirely hate the sound.

“Ask? I command.”

You grin, leaning back against the cold stone wall. “Well, I’m not one of your subjects. So maybe a little politeness wouldn’t hurt.”

“(Y/N),” she repeats slowly, as if tasting the name on her tongue. “Hmph. It’s plain. But… not entirely offensive.”

You smirk. “Wow, I’m flattered.”

Chrysalis gives a sharp huff through her nose, her wings giving a small flick behind her. “You should be. I don’t hand out compliments lightly.”

You chuckle. “And yet here I am, with a not-entirely-offensive name and one gems less in my cart. I must be doing something right.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she mutters, though her gaze lingers on the heart-shaped gem still tucked beside her. Her expression shifts for the briefest second a quick soft look.

Then it vanishes behind a glare.

“This doesn’t mean we’re friends, pony,” she snaps suddenly. “I don’t do friends.”

You tilt your head, still smiling. “That’s fine. We can just be… two creatures sitting in a cave, talking. No labels.”

Chrysalis narrows her eyes suspiciously, like she’s searching for a trick or hidden motive behind your calmness. But when she finds none, she exhales through her teeth, clearly annoyed that she doesn’t hate the idea.

“Fine,” she mutters. “But don’t get used to it. The next time we meet, I might be your ruler.”

You nod solemnly. “Duly noted. Just promise you won’t vaporize me on sight.”

“I make no promises.”

•••

[delicatebarness]

i cant read your mind | chapter eight

Summary: Flashback to Wakanda.

Warnings: MCU Spoilers. Major The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Spoilers. Smut. Fluffy Smut. A hint of Angst at the end. Sergeant kink.

Word Count: 927

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A/N: Onto episode 4 now, most likely gonna be 3 parts for this one. I've had the idea of this chapter in my head forever and was so excited to finally write it. But, I am also excited to go back to annoyed Bucky next chapter when John's back in the picture.

Tags: @blackhawkfanatic | @cjand10 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @missvelvetsstuff | @buckys-metal-arm | @matchat3a | @shadowzena43 | @torntaltos | @honeydew3064 | @scott-loki-barnes

Wakanda. Six Years Ago.

The Wakandan sun had set hours ago, around the same time Bucky left to meet with Ayo for another session. You stood by the window of his hut, staring out into the evening waiting for his return. Ayo had contacted you when they had finished for the night, explaining to you that he was free. Finally free from the brainwashing that had haunted him for so long. You immediately left the room that the Wakandans had prepared for you and made your way to Bucky’s hut. 

As Bucky approached the hut, he saw you waiting for him. He entered without a word, closing the space between you in a few quick strides. He cupped your face, kissing you deeply, passionately. It was filled with a mix of relief, gratitude, a raw desire. 

You responded immediately, your arms wrapping around his neck, trying to pull him closer. Your bodies pressed together as Bucky's hand dropped from your face, roaming your back. 

Bucky broke the kiss for less than a second, his lips finding your body again as he trailed down your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, as your fingers tangled in his hair. A soft moan escaped your lips as he placed a soft kiss against a sensitive spot below your ear. His hand found its way to the gem of your shift, lifting it effortlessly over your head and tossing it aside before finding your lips with his again. 

Undressing each other in haste, your clothes were discarded carelessly onto the hut floor. His eyes filled with hunger as his gaze met yours for a moment, taking in the image of you standing bare before him. 

His voice was husky as he murmured, “You’re amazing, Baby Girl,” 

You smiled, sliding your hand up and down his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles and the scars on his shoulder. “And, you’re finally free, Sergeant,” you replied, your voice breathless with anticipation. 

Without another word, he lifted you and carried you to the makeshift bed. Laying you down, his eyes danced over your body, taking in every inch of you. His lips captured yours in a hungry kiss and he positioned himself above you. You arched into his touch as his hand explored your body, your nails digging into him. 

Your kisses grew more desperate as his fingers found their way to your inner thigh, teasing his way up to your entrance with gentle strokes. The stokes continued as he reached it. You moaned into his mouth, hips moving in rhythm with his touch. 

Unable to wait any longer, he positioned himself where his fingers previously were, his gaze stayed locked with yours. And, with a single thrust, he buried himself deep inside you. You gasped at the sensation. 

Once he began to move, his hips rocked against yours in a slow steady rhythm. Your back arched off the bed as the pleasure consumed you. His name fell from your lips, driving him to push harder. 

Each movement was deliberate, every touch ignited the desire and longing for one another that neither of your minds let you admit. His thrusts were measured, driving deeper into your core. A chorus of moans and sighs from both your lips filled the hut. 

The sensation of him filling you caused you to wrap your legs around his waist as a wave of pleasure coursed through you. 

The tension within you grew, the pleasure building, it was almost unbearable. You were teetering on the edge, Bucky’s movement grew more urgent as your mumbled begs strained from your voice. “Please, Sergeant, please.” 

“Please what, baby?” his voice whispered against your ear, his lips finding your neck again. 

“Please can I finish, Sergeant?” you pleaded, your voice thick with need and desperation. 

You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your skin, and he continued with his steady, hard thrusts. Each one pushed you closer and closer. He knew exactly what you needed, he could feel the tension within you reaching its breaking point. 

“Let go for me,” he murmured as his grip on your hips tightened. “Let me feel you come apart, baby.” 

His permission pushed you over the edge, and with a ragged cry, you shattered beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure rushed through you as he continued his rhythm. 

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth bored into your skin as his high followed closely behind yours. His body began to tremble with the aftershock of his climax. 

~

Bucky collapsed beside you, and then for a long while, neither of you spoke. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex and the only sound was your ragged breaths. 

A realization washed over you like a wave crashing. For the first time, he had been gentle and tender. It was filled with emotion and connection. Something that was a stark contrast to the aggressive, rough encounters that would normally leave your body looking like you just came back from an intense mission. 

The weight became too much to bear, you began to gather your clothes from the floor. The simple act of dressing provided you with a sense of normalcy. 

You felt his intense gaze watching you silently.

“I… I think I should go,” you murmured, unable to turn to face him. 

Without a word from him, you slipped out of the hut, leaving behind the warmth and intimacy. Instead, enveloping yourself with cool night air as tears stung at the corners of your eyes. 

---

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[depraved-love]

I'm only pretty for myself and you.

Scylla. That name was enough to make sirens, nymphs, even some gods swoon. She was a truly beautiful maiden, after all, yet she kept men at arm’s length. Her hair was black as obsidian, and so long that even braided, it reached her waist. Her eyes were dark to match, always shining with an almost above-human gleam. Her skin bore at least the slightest sunburn from the sheer amount of time she spent by the beaches, and yet it seemed so soft from afar. No man knew just how it felt; the best they could hope for was spotting her from a distance, lost in another poem. To most sensible mortals, that would be enough of a “no.” But Poseidon was neither mortal nor sensible - and he sure as hell didn’t take no for an answer.

The young woman walked along the white-sand beach, the setting sun’s carriage lending her even more beauty than usual. She carried a new scroll, another of the few bolder nymphs had gifted her. That one wasn’t forceful with her affection; she might even entertain her platonically, if she kept it up. A smile spread across that beautiful, markless face. Nearby, an older woman awaited her, ready to accompany her home. The two began to chat, soft melodic voices, gentle laughter, until a screech suddenly pierced the air. Both women turned toward the sound, startled, to see a creature struggling in the sand. A dolphin - terrified and dying. Scylla moved at once, instinctively rushing forward to help, but the older woman placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “Careful… these creatures have no place in our waters. Who knows what kind of magic this may be?” But by then, the kind-hearted maiden had already given her a soft smile and darted across the sand. The creature’s thrashing slowed as she knelt beside it, pouring water gently over its cracked, wheezing skin. She reached out to soothe it, to spread the cool liquid over its body... and time seemed to shatter. An iron grip closed around her wrist. The ocean surged, sudden and monstrous. She heard her companion scream for their protector. She felt the roar of waves, the thunder of a thousand hooves galloping beneath the sea. Her lungs burned. And then darkness.

She awoke enveloped by water, and to her own astonishment, it didn’t burn her lungs. The nymph found herself in a cave decorated with glowing algae and shimmering rocks. Immediately, she knew what had happened—and internally cursed herself. How many times had she read about Poseidon pulling this stunt? Five? Ten? Twenty? Even more? More thinking could be done once she was out. She swam forward, cutting through the water until she reached exactly where she expected—a grand throne room, carved from coral and stone, bathed in a ghostly blue light. “Morning, pretty lady…” She didn’t even look up. Instead, she felt the temperature shift in the water around her. It tasted different now, strange and sharp, as the god encircled her in his invisible web. “I knew Circe hid the prettiest,” he murmured, “but you… you really are the gem of her island.” A webbed, scaled, slimy hand reached out and took hers, bringing it closer to his lips - only to get a taste of her nails. A faint shimmer of gold tinted the water around them. “Ah, and a little spicy, I see… now, now, no need for outbursts.” The god tried to reach her again. “I don’t ask you to stay here forever… but I’m sure we both can find this enjoyable-” Before he could finish, another hit landed on him, a stone falling from above. Floating in the water near him was a damn familiar goddess. She gave the now very grumpy nymph a pointed look. “Let me guess, sweetheart… not the first time?” When Scylla shook her head, Amphitrite just rolled her eyes. “Your protector is above. I’m going to deal with this.” After a respectful nod, Scylla began swimming upward, only catching bits of yelling, something about “keeping other women out of their home.” Upon reaching the surface, she found a small boat carrying a few very scared nymphs, and one very angry enchantress.

As quick as this little “adventure” had been, Scylla was well and truly done with everything. It wasn’t the first time someone had made an attempt on her, not even close - but for a god to take part? That was absurd. She didn’t even think she looked that pretty. Other nymphs had that effortless flower-beauty to them, all soft petals and light. And her? She looked mortal. The moment they docked, she didn’t wait a second. She stormed after Circe, following her all the way to her “workshop.” “Something’s going to have to be done,” Circe muttered as she set down her potions. “I can’t have nymphs being kidnapped - even for a few hours. Maybe you should start staying ins-” “Change me.” Circe blinked. “Huh?” “Change me. Conjure up a monster.” “Scylla…” The enchantress turned, slow and wary. “You shouldn’t have to change to be safe-” “Who cares about safety!? I want to return the favor!” “You don’t need to change your body for that.” “But I want to.” Her voice was steady now. Cold, certain. “I want to be what terrifies men.” Circe looked her over then. Really looked. Searching for a lie, a crack, some twisted grief pretending to be strength. But there was none. “So be it.” And so, Scylla walked the beach for the last time while Circe prepared a glowing bath full of ancient, roaring magic. Other nymphs accompanied her. They watched as she stripped off her clothing and stepped slowly into the potion, the sea wind catching strands of her dark hair one last time. They stood in silent awe as scales began to ripple across her skin—painless, gleaming. As new limbs twisted into being, as heads sprouted where none had been before. They stood together and gave her their sad, proud smiles. And then, unrecognizable to them, their sister slipped beneath the waves.

Something stayed. Her obsidian hair grew even longer, flowing freely, never braided again. Her eyes multiplied, five pairs now gleaming from each of the sea serpent heads sprouting from her back. The faint sunburn was replaced by gleaming teal scales that shimmered with every movement. A mischievous smile, filled with razor-sharp teeth, played across her lips. And for the first time in her life, she had never felt prettier.

Her cave was isolating, yes, but still perfect. No men dared approach, not anymore. Nobody ever came, save for her sisters and the occasional foolish sailor she got to feed on. It was freeing, safe, hers. So imagine her surprise when the current brought something new—something breathing, something struggling. She moved toward it with the same confidence she once had when she approached that dying dolphin so long ago. The creature clung to a jagged rock near the mouth of her cave, fighting the pull of the sea, barely holding on. Almost human. But the scales, the gills fluttering along the throat, the dark, ancient eyes, and the strands of sea-grass hair drifting in the water—it told her everything she needed to know. "A siren?" The creature looks up. Her eyes sparkle the second they land on the serpent heads, and even more when they find the humanoid one. “What are you doing here, little fish...?” Scylla’s monstrous voice grumbles low and rough, like rocks grinding beneath the tide. “…A hunt went wrong…” The siren motions to her half-cut tail. “Honestly thought I’d bleed out.” Scylla examines the wound. It’s deep and jagged, but the saltwater has done its work, sanitized it, at least. “That’s truly an ugly cut, pretty thing… But healable. Is anyone going to come looking for you?” The siren looks away. “I don’t think so… I fear there’s nobody left to look.” “Oh, I see…” Scylla pauses. “Well, if you don’t mind an old witch’s company, then you can certainly heal up here. You can call me-” “Scylla,” the siren finishes softly. “Oh?” Scylla tilts her head, amused. “Your name has become quite… infamous.” All six of her heads smile. “And what should I call you, little siren?” “[Reader].”

Scylla had almost forgotten her love for women’s company by now. The beauty of a voice, not carried by poems she’d read and reread, but alive and breathing, reminded her of the soft curves she once admired from afar, back when she was the one admired. And suddenly, in her cave, sat an absolute embodiment of those memories. [Reader] even knew the poems she used to love, reciting them softly a perfect, almost miraculous coincidence.

One evening, the two women sat together, [Reader]’s voice filling the cave as she recited a poem she hadn’t yet shared. “Of course I love you - but if you love me, marry a young woman! I couldn’t stand it to live with a young man, I being older-” “Would you truly marry?” Scylla cut off [Reader]’s recitation, her voice low, curious. “Would you marry a woman, [Reader]...?” The siren stared up at the serpentine beauty above her- Even half-lying down, she was so much bigger. Was this woman actually asking such a question? [Reader] would 100% marry a woman. If that woman had six heads, and scales shimmering over all her curves, hiding the spots she most wanted to see. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I think I could marry a woman…” The rest of the yearning sentence stayed buried deep within [Reader]’s chest.

[Reader] caught herself yearning for the so-called monster more and more. She had stayed in that cave for months now, watching her beloved hunt the unfortunate sailors who strayed through her waters. The more she watched, the more of her own poems blossomed within her-imagining how that lithe body, gliding so smoothly through the water, might wrap around hers. And oh, those so beautifully sharp teeth- She had to catch herself before the hunger overwhelmed her and retreat to scratching more verses into the now nearly covered walls. “Like a sweet apple reddening on a high branch, on the tip of the topmost branch and forgotten by the apple pickers No, beyond their reach.Like a hyacinth in the mountains that shepherd men trample down with their feet, and on the earth the purple flower-” But in the end, the siren couldn’t bring herself to finish. The biting, burning need for her idol in her core wouldn’t let her rest. A quick glance around told her she was alone. So she laid back against the rocks, letting her mind wander wherever Eros took it, her hands following their own desires... Unaware of the silent audience just beneath the water’s surface.

By now, they both knew. They both yearned, but neither dared speak first. Until one evening, after a bloody hunt, as Scylla settled into her cave, [Reader] - almost absentmindedly - began brushing crimson from her skin. One of the serpent heads moved slowly, gently holding [Reader]’s hands in place. “Six heads, wild - can I hold love...?” “Your roar is song; I’m yours to prove.” “Monsters don’t marry.” “Then love makes us legendary.” “By sea and storm, forever one.” It was hard to tell who kissed first, or which head pressed kisses to which part of [Reader]’s body - but the deep, searching stares said it all. The serpentine nymph wrapped her terrifying, magnificent body around the siren, so small beside her, devouring her in a way only Eros or Aphrodite should witness.

[koszmarnybudyn]

This is painfully self indulgent but SU malevolent au. Will get to coloring these later. Also the lineups go: pre earth John, pre earth Arthur, current Arthur, current John (or earth/human disguise Arthur and John), then Kayne, Jarthur/dies ires once they become a stable fusion and Jarthur/dies ires when they first fused.

Now onto au stuff: (this is barely holding onto su canon, again incredibly self indulgent)

Arthur's an Amber (considered pearl cause musicial but decided against it cause i dont really see Arthur as a pearl), i choose amber because of the sea connection and for me they are kinda fire-y, and they are hardened by hardship tree sap which idk seems very fitting for our Arthur who is someone hardened by circumstances. And they aften have rock or animal fragments and i think the being inperfect really fits. He was suppose to be a Kiy (whose a yellow diamond here) court musician but because of the imperfection of his gem he's slithly corrupted and breaks away from homeworld (probablly also sees the error of gem ways), and somehow lands on earth where he meets Bella a human and they connect, they form a close bond that isnt romantic love but both being quite young and amazed with the other think it is. They try to have a kid, it nearly works but last second Arthur pulls away (he doesn't want to die this isn't right etc) which unfortunetly means Bella died and Faroe not reciving a gem dies in childbirth, Arthur didn't realize that would happen he blames himself heavily. He spends a lot more time on Earth meets Parker, when Earth is suddently began to be colonized, with John (not yet with his name) being the one tasked with it. Unfortunetly or fortunetly John ends up crashing badly, which nearly caused him to pop, he crash lands near to where Arthur now resides, he kills Parker, in turn Arthur nearly shatters him, then John force fuses with him. His nearly shattered state, or maybe something ekse leads to some kind of reaction where the fusion is semi permanent now they have to figure out how to unfuse and to solve a mystery, of it all.

The kiy is as mentioned before a yellow diamond. John is kiy fragment thus also a yellow diamond but with some gold bits in it, so not completly pure (he is kinda like Pink dismond here) with being the one to get Earth as a colony, he is how he is in canon personality wise, very clueless to earth while Arthur is very used to it.

Kayne is idk what, im kinda thinking some lab grown gem abomination or maybe not a gem at all but he defintly has shards of other gems/kaynes permanentky fused to him, his main gem is specificlly heart shaped, with all the other gems kinda being blood splaters, he usually has his shurt buttened until the reveal of his state.

Jarthur/dies ires is also im not sure what, gold maybe? But at first the fusion is way less stable thus the 3 eyes, 3 hands and 3 feet (also a not to Johns posssesion in canon, with him also controling all the eyes 2 feet and a hand (one of the three arms being semi numb)) and is suppose to wear a combination of their outfits that is also suppose to look like a travelers garb, with still some performer intertwined. The more permanent version is what they become after, i think they were unfused for a while (Arthur was nearly shattered/shattered then resurected by kayne, and John was dragged back to homeworld/dreamlands), and is wayyy more stable, with each of them having about 50/50 control of it, and the brain being way more alighned tho they still become less fused sometimes when they fight and become unstable. The stable outfit having of course fire and piano motifs with its outfit being way more showman esque.

I have other thoughts and ideas but that's it for now, hope someone enjoys it because well i love su and the au potential of it and i live malevolent and making aus for it and this has been stuck in my brain recently.

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords _ Part 14 = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 1.5 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9  — Part 10 — Part 11 — Part 12 — Part 13 — Part 14 (here) — Part 15 — Part 16 — Epilogue

QUICK NOTE: From this point on, the parts will be in story format rather than headcanon format, due to the heavy dialogue (plus major information has been told beforehand). With that said, enjoy!

Magically, the room turned into that of a makeshift courtroom layout. You were at the center and highest point. Your Overlords were on either side of you and in a station of their own. From your right were your Overlords of long standing; starting from the closest was Zestial, Carmilla, Rosie, and Zeezi. From your left were the more recent Overlords and those that would stand trial, starting with your favoured one, Alastor, then Husk, Velvette, Vox, and last was Valentino.

A platform was at the center where it would be used later on. However, the most unique part has to be the seven mirrors hovering at the perfect distance between your Overlord sides and facing in your direction, each with a distinctive colour. Well, you wouldn’t explain, but that was the seven Sins of Hell watching behind their respective mirror. While it was to let them be aware of your invested souls and not to meddle, it was more importantly a reminder of who’s the True Ruler of Hell to them.

The likes of Zestial and Carmilla long figured out the presence of the Sins by the mirrors, and Rosie who once belonged to the Greed Ring also knew from the aura and colours. You can’t tell if the others knew. Not that it mattered, whether they know or not, they can’t sway a Sin to side with them or let them allow entry to their Ring, because you oversee all Sinners and their souls.

“Let us begin.” You announced. “Starting with the familiar face that everyone has been wondering about.”

Alastor raised from his seat and Husk did the same. With the wave of your hand, both of them where instantly teleported to the platform where they immediately bowed and kneeled with one knee. Alastor raised his head while Husk’s was still bowing down, “My Liege, as all soul belongs to your accursed being, it was only right that you take back Husk’s contract when he is of value to you. I have done my part by refining this rock into a gem worthy of your collection.”

Husk raised his head, his eyes staring at you with sincerity and obedience. “My Master, I have learned my lesson and reflected. I’m ashamed of my past actions and I know I can’t take it back, not in a million years. I’ve changed, but if… If you’ll take me back, I swear to whatever unholy and cruel, I won’t make you regret it.”

“Bold claim.” A smirk formed on your face, “What proof do you have? You see, my Overlords here own a number of souls under them and control those souls.” You opened your palm and your fingers curled in and out, orbs of light appeared and swirled around your hand. “Even though you’re one of those chained-down souls, there are still a number of options you can work with.” Your hand clenched and the orbs all disappeared, “Don’t tell me you did nothing.”

“Thought you’d never ask.” Husk grinned back, his rose up and his wings spread open. Hundreds of hundred written glowing contract appeared all around Husk. At the right corner were all different signatures of victims that agreed to the terms of the soul contract, on all of the sheet of paper was the signature of the dominant party; Husk. “If you need anymore, Alastor used me to take back the territories he marked.”

Zestial’s hand raised, “If ‘t be true t wast true yond Alastor hast hath used husk to reclaim’d the t’rrit’ries in our liege’s nameth, p’rhaps husk hast potential to returneth ‘mongst our ranks. (If it was true that Alastor has used Husk to reclaimed the territories in Our Liege’s name, perhaps Husk has potential to return among our ranks.)”

Rosie caught the gist of things and praised, “Well, collecting all those souls at the given time is challenging, but all these contracts proved something.”

Carmilla gave Husk a glance over before turning to your direction, “At least, he has class now and knows his place, unlike before.”

“If I may also add.” Alastor stood up and played his cane a bit, “Husk, here, has been very good at reading others. Quit gambling and has been a dutiful bartender at the Hazbin Hotel! Quite recently, he has also lend a hand in defending Hell from the exterminators.”

Whispers came and went between the booths, your Overlords talking among themselves. It’s true that you’ll have Husk join your collection either way, but it was better if your favoured souls has positive views of Husk as well. Since his stay in your collection also depended on your other Overlords. That was why you paired Carmilla and Rosie with Velvette’s development and Zestial with Vox’s soul-searching.

“This makes things simple and easy to conclude.” You hummed, you waved your hands over the contracts for them to vanish from sight and acknowledged Husk’s works by having them returned to Husk’s possession. “Alastor?”

“At your command, My Liege.” Alastor bowed and a contract appeared between he and Husk. Around Husk was a thick collar connected with a chain that extended to Alastor’s hand. Alastor gave Husk one more glance before turning his attention to the contract, he took it in his hands and narrowed his eyes at the sheet of glowing paper. “I hereby relinquish claim over Husk’s soul, at the witness of all present here and My Liege.”

In a swift movement, the paper was torn in two and disintegrated into nothing. Cracks appeared in the chain and collar around Husk before it too crumbled and disappeared like there was nothing. Husk’s breath laboured as his clawed hand reached up to his neck, feeling nothing but his fur and his own warmth. It was a foreign feeling, one he welcomed and only dreamed off. 

“Ha…” Husk knew it wasn’t over, because all this freedom, he owe it to you. At your patience for his enjoyment of his freedom, he knows he’s about to give it up again. Yet, it wasn’t the same as being caged by Alastor. There was freedom and support from you, evident from Alastor’s actions and behaviours even while he was chained down and his soul wasn’t his to own. 

The same was said of the other Overlords that served you for this long and continued to do so. This was a group of Sinner that raised their worth to your level and would fight tooth and nail to remain where they are or higher. He too will do so. Never again will he disappoint you.

“Great Ruler of Hell,” Husk took a step forward and kneeled before you with his head bowed, “I offer you my everything. My body, mind, spirit, and soul is yours to use as you see fit. Everything will be as you see.”

“And I accept.” You raised your hand to him. An orb appeared from Husk’s chest and floated into your hand, you clapped your hands to cover the orb. When it was revealed again, there was nothing. Instead, there was a necklace with an eye design charm in its place. “From now on, you are back among the Overlord ranks.” The necklace flew to Husk. “Alastor holds no authority over you and you answer to no one but me.”

Husk accepted the necklace and bowed once more, “Yes, My Sovereign.”

With another wave of your hand, both Alastor and Husk was returned to their booth. So far, things were going as you have expected. You’ve been keeping an eye on Valentino, but he has been silent. You wondered if it was because he couldn’t care less or if he was even paying attention to what was happening. No matter, because what’s next will call for his attention. 

“Next. The disbandment of the singular Overlord the Vees.” 

Valentino immediately got up and glared to his side where Velvette and Vox stood up accordingly with neutral expressions and indifference. You sent the three down to the platform with the flick of your hand and they appeared on the platform under the spotlight.

“You two, what the f*** are you thinking!?” Valentino wasted no time in shouting in both Velvette and Vox’s faces. “Aren’t we supposed to do this sh*t together?!”

“Be more posed about your words, Valentino.” Velvette warned with a glare, “You’re in the presence of our Sovereign.”

“Our Sovereign?” Valentino raised a brow, “What happened to ‘Master’ huh? What the sh*t’s gotten into you?”

Velvette growled but took a deep breath in and out when she saw Carmilla and Rosie mentioning for her to calm down and take it easy. She composed herself, reminding herself she was no longer in that tower where she has to share what was meant to be all hers. Here and now, she has the ticket to cut ties. She was generously given a chance by you and aided by two of your favourite Overlords, she has a chance and all it takes was for her to prove herself like Husk and she would be set.

Averting her attention away from Valentino, Velvette turned to you with her hand over where her heart would be, “My Sovereign, I don’t want to share my title with Vox and Valentino or anyone for that matter. I want to have my own title. I know I can do as much alone, I don’t want others holding me back.” 

You remained neutral to it all, “Action speak louder than words, so does results. Dear Velvette. Take a page out of Husk’s book for example. He’s been collecting forces under him, can hold his own and regain territories, and work in defending the hotel from exterminators. What of you?”

“I may not be as impressive since I realized my worth late, but…” Velvette opened her arms and showcased a number of contracts that ranged to the hundreds. “I have been working on my forces. I don’t need as many for manpower since I’ll be working in the fashion and some entertainment fields, but I prioritize quality and talents of my souls for my purposes.”

“I see, a wise choice.” You leaned your chin in your palm, “You’ve mimicked my collection wonderfully. I’m impressed.” Just when Velvette was about to thank your praise, you interrupted, “However, that only applies to my Collection of Elites. Apart from you all, I have more than you could ever imagine.” You pointed at them, “If I had to, I could strip you of your free will and more. Just so you would be obedient.”

While Valentino backed up and fell on his butt, Velvette and Vox bowed their heads and kneeled down, “And I wish to give you my services willingly.”

You smirked, “Smart answer.” Since you have taken Velvette’s soul before already, you gave her the same necklace you’ve given to Husk and the others. “You are officially free from your connection with the Vees. Now, you are your own Overlord. Serve me well.”

Carmilla and Rosie both clapped with proud motherly smiles over their faces. 

“Yes, My Sovereign.” And Velvette was sent back to her booth.

You eyed Vox who remained kneeling, “But I have yet to approve of your status, Vox. Didn’t you suggest this whole three demons sharing the one Overlord title? I seem to recall you claim that you’ll perform far better than my other Overlords.”

Vox gulped, “I was wrong… Master… I see the error of my ways and I see why Velvette left first.” He looked up to you, “It was my fault, I shouldn’t have challenged your vision in the first place. I… disagreed and disappointed your expectations to me.”

“You didn’t as I had none for you.” You flat out dejected his honest statement, “If you’re disappointing anyone, it’s Alastor.” 

Vox’s head snapped to Alastor’s direction who seemed unaffected. “What…”

Alastor set down his cup, “My Liege, I should offer my sincerest apologies for wasting your valuable time and energy on such a disappointment.”

You waved it off with a smile, “No no, it was amusing.” Your smile dropped as did your tone, “But all good things will come to an end eventually.”

“I have my contracts too, enough workers for two factories and a tower.” Vox summoned his contracts to show you his proof. “I have control over the media and the Sinners of Hell watch my shows all the time, this media control will be yours.”

“Can’t Alastor do the same?”

Your question made Vox freeze in his state. It was true. Both he and Alastor were demons of media, Valentino and Velvette were demons of media, however, they were more focused on a certain domain. Whereas he and Alastor both varied. The only difference was their medium, one’s of TV and the other’s of radio. 

From the start, Vox had his (childish) rivalry with Alastor because of their domain and history. Now that he knew the reason you approached him was because of Alastor’s recommendation, he basically dragged it across the mud and repeated the shot until there was nothing left. Things were different when he knew that Alastor didn’t see him as inferior and abandoned him. It was different.

He has his answer.

“Yes, Alastor can.” Vox spoke without hesitation. “But why not cover both? It will guarntee more listener and more demons will be covered. There doesn’t have to be a limit when both are in your hands.” He continued when your interest seemed piqued. “By cutting my ties with the Vees and holding my own title, I will have no limit but your words, I can focus on myself and guard my own benefit all in your name. My Master.”

“Excellent.” A twisted grin broke out of your face, “It took you long enough to realize your potential!” You gave him his necklace and took the one he was holding onto back into your hand. “Vox, you will be given a task at a later date to prove yourself. For now, be proud of your realization.”

Zestial clapped his hands slowly with an approval nod.

“Yes, My Sovereign.”

Note: Husk is back to being an Overlord and the Vees have broken up! Finally something interesting! I know there's not much Alastor moments, but I tried to add some behind. Stick around, because every Thursday will be a new part until the Epilogue. Then the series officially ends.

Circe Y. 

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