#and yes they themselves had also previously snapped at least once

[four-comma-five-verse]

i hope this isn't an unwelcome addition :

He doesn't really remember what led to this point. A world meeting? Some press conference gone wrong? Tolys can’t recall.

Whatever might have been the start - the end is evident. There is blood on his hands. He feels it on his knuckles - an uncomfortable cover that fits like a glove.

And then there's that hateful face below Tolys - him - Ivan. He doesn't even look angry about the whole thing. Instead he chuckles, and shakes his head like one would to a misbehaving child.

"Oh, Tolushka," Ivan sighs, as blood drips down from his broken nose in a very satisfying arc, that ends dirtying Ivan's precious scarf. "Why do you always have to ruin a good thing? Why do you not want to be friends?"

Tolys screams.

It's not a guttural scream of rage – despite the fact that almost everyone around will then describe it to the journalists and their bosses and anyone else who asks as such. The scream is instead frustration personified.

There is a hot, smouldering coal where Tolys's heart should be - and it burns as Ivan becomes more and more unrecognisable, but there is also a cold, hard, sharpened certainty - there is no winning combination in this 'battle of wits' that Tolys is getting baited into, there is nothing he can say or has said that will make Ivan stop looking at him like that - because to Ivan he is nothing more than a pretty trophy to display to his more important friends.

Ivan doesn't want to be friends with Nations like him - he wants toys - pretty and obedient. There is a tiny speck of Tolys that allows himself the idea that maybe to Ivan friends and toys got mixed up somewhere along the way - that maybe there is something to pity here.

But that pity is a grace Tolys can't find himself allowing to the man below him.

There are not a lot of languages they both understand, and Tolys refuses to speak to him in the one Ivan prefers, so violence it has to be.

How could he possibly explain to anyone else that Ivan never calls him by his proper name? Only uses his human one - usually with a Russian diminutive. How could he possibly explain what that means to anybody else?

Then - he feels a pressure somewhere on his back. Then his elbows. He feels himself getting torn off Ivan more than he sees it. There is something below him - and then suddenly - there isn't.

"Oh dear Christ," He hears someone say. "Will you calm down? This is really no way to go about doing things!"

Half the people in the room are looking at him like a wild animal.

Some look at him with pity.

Some? Some have their sights on the way red drips on the floor below Ivan and their eyes shine with a primal envy. A hunger.

It's not a sight that is foreign to Tolys - not after they all had to spend their lives together under a flag just as red as Ivan's blood. Living vicariously through other people’s rebellions was a staple in their 'happy family'.

"Are you okay?" Someone asks Ivan and the smile he gives them in return is so pathetic Tolys wants to vomit.

"I'm sturdier than I look! Luckily I didn't get a concussion!" Ivan laughs.

'Look at how reasonable I'm acting' - Ivan seems to project. 'One can’t fault me in my actions if this is how I'm treated!'

Then - Ivan's head is bashed in with a beer bottle.

“Oops,” says Raivis, actually managing to look slightly sorry about the whole thing (the man has a gift really – no wonder so many people still see him as a soft, innocent young lad) “Sorry! Looks like you’ll still get that concussion yet!”

Huh, Tolys thinks, usually he goes last.

Then another beer bottle got bashed against Ivan’s head and Tolys thought: ah, he just didn’t want to waste the good liquor, got it. Eduard seemed to instead have opted to waste Raivis’s brought ‘best alcohol – drunkenness against price way’ that even he himself admitted was not drinkable sober.

“You are all going to get in trouble for this, you know that right?” Someone – probably Ludwig, from the frantic, stuck-up way he sounds – says.

Tolys didn't find it in himself to care that much.

I need more content of Tolys beating the shit out of Ivan.

[early20sfailingplenty]

eee requests!!

i LOVE the way you write bo- could i request something with bo meeting/with a paranoid reader- i think itd be fun to see how he'd react to someone assuming he is up to no good from the get go just because its how they are

also! tips on writing bo? i cant seem to master it

- slasher--stuff

Thank youuuuu ~ 💖💖💖💖 other people here, who KNOW who they are, taught me everything I know abt the Sinclairs!! I hope you enjoy this too ~ 💖💖💖 I think I previously answered your ask abt help with Bo!!! I'm happy to talk abt things with you more though if you want to!!!🌸💗 @slasher--stuff

AS ALWAYS, GENDER!NEUTRAL READER, NO CODED LANGUAGE, "YOU" AND Y/N USED.

A big thank you to @ultra-literal-fandom-trash for listening to me throw ideas into the void and helping me to work out how Bo would respond to this scenario! I got a bit stuck with several parts of this piece and you wrote me out of all the corners I'd blocked myself into.😂 Thank you thank you thank you for helping me!!!🙏🙏🙏 I appreciate you so much ~ 💗

Bo meeting a paranoid reader; they suspect him immediately because that's how they are.

TW; CANON TYPICAL DARKNESS, Bo's his own warning (said with love), experiences of paranoia. PLEASE NOTE - I did some research on paranoia while writing this piece. I've done my best to be respectful and accurate in my portrayal but as I don't experience this myself, there MAY be some inaccuracies. I apologise for any you may find. DRUGGING (canon typical; Vincent gets you), STALKING, cornering, fear and anxiety, NO ROMANCE BETWEEN BO AND READER.

I won't be continuing this piece because I have nowhere else for it to go; I wrote myself into a corner just like the Sinclairs end up doing to you. BUT PLEASE PLEASE BE AWARE THIS DOES NOT HAVE A HAPPY ENDING. THIS IS THE DARKEST ONE I'VE WRITTEN YET.

Word count: 2, 624.

Most people who come into Ambrose are really rather stupid. They dismiss every red flag which came their way once they ended up on Ambrose’s borders. The way Lester conveniently pulls up right when their car breaks down, the way he offers up gas or a free ride (though this is more his genuine want to help others and less so a part of his 'delivery' to Ambrose), the way the toilet at the gas station is always out of order but Bo's got one up at the house they're all right to use... the rigged town and it's many lures, traps and other such things are all far too convenient, and most people dismiss that feeling in their gut. The one which is telling them to run, far far away, and not look back.

Yes, most visitors who find themselves in Ambrose are either too desperate for help to see the red flags practically being flashed in their face, or they just don't notice them and assume the very best of Lester, Bo and Vincent... though they're usually dead before they can learn of the Sinclairs' names.

Except you.

You experience paranoia and that can make it really difficult for you to form a close relationship with anyone. Often do you feel as if people are out to get you, as if they might want to hurt you. Offers of help are met with suspicion, and generally speaking do you question everything and everyone around you. As such, when Lester pulled up in his pickup truck beside you and your broken down, abandoned car (you hadn't known that fan-belts were capable of snapping...), you had been immediately suspicious and most definitely on edge. Something didn't feel right, something wasn't right, you should get in your car, lock the door and refuse to come out until the strange man who just so happened to offer you a free ride had given up and left, right?

Wrong.

The one time you should have listened to yourself, the one time your paranoia was more in tune with the world than you knew, was the one time that you didn't. You got in the pickup truck against every fibre of your being screaming at you, and you would, at least in part, spend the rest of your life both hating and loving yourself for it. You had no idea what you were in for, and that was just how the Sinclairs wanted it, how they loved it.

Everything went off without a hitch for the brothers once Lester delivered you to the washed out corner which hid Ambrose from the view of anyone who didn't know where to go. Bo and Vincent had inherited the family business well over a decade ago, and their individual roles were well worth and well loved.

Bo was in place at the church and Vincent was in the lower floor of the house of wax, lingering behind the piano. Visitors had been sparse recently and the brothers had been positively itching for someone to track, for new work to do. Vincent had already chosen a place for you... he hadn't seen you yet, but there were some gaps in the theatre which needed filling. Some of the rows in the actual cinema were asymmetrical and it was pissing Bo off. He had taken one too many passive aggressive comments from his older twin and so Vincent had resigned himself to not getting to choose his work's locations until Bo was satisfied. Such was life, though even with his irritation would Vincent do anything for Bo. Anything.

Red flags were cropping up left, right and centre. Literally. Every store front made you squint in concentration, every abandoned car made you feel a certain kind of way, the layout of the town itself was just odd... and was it you or could you smell something which was bitter, sweet but altogether wrong? You were suspicious as you saw how everything was open but closed, and your paranoia was in full swing. You knew not if it was your paranoia which was making the situation seem as it did or if you were seeing the reality, and the lack of distinction and knowing only made you more paranoid.

You could hear a procession going on in the church but you didn't want to go in. It was unbelievably rude to interrupt any kind of private service; your logic told you that not every citizen of Ambrose was going to be attending the same service and your paranoia leapt on that like a fly to shit - why would a town be so deserted in the first place? You sat on the steps, your skin increasingly crawling with nerves and your every fibre screaming at you to run. Just. Run. But you didn't. Where could you run? What could you do? You needed help, and that was why you were there.

In time, you would come to appreciate that the last thing you could ever hope to find in Ambrose would be help. You had genuinely had that with Lester, but once you had left his truck, that was over. He didn't mess with his brothers' work, their momma's legacy. People who came to Ambrose did so to die, though they were dead before their minds could catch up to such. Most died without knowing what had hit them, who had done it or why.

Some, like you, presented a challenge to the twins, and they took their time with ones like you. It made breaking you so much more fun. The hunt was already fun when the prey didn't know they were being hunted, but, oh, the chase once the realisation set in made all the more delicious to the sadistic pair.

Bo realised that you were going to be the most fun he had had in a while when you didn't come in the church after an entire ten minutes had passed. On his knees was he with his back to the door and over the sounds of the recorded audio could he not hear you. He sensed your presence, so continuously aware of his surroundings was he. He flipped a switch on the bottom of the casket which would 'lower' it into the ground and stood up, feigning grief. He did feel grief over the passing of his parents and he tapped into it as much as he was able to when he was playing the role. But beating a dead horse was only so much fun for a while before it began to get stale, and today he just couldn't tap into his real grief for his false Southern Gentleman Act™.

Usually, he waited until he could hear the sound of shoes on gravel leaving the premises of the church before he finished the 'funeral' but today, the act had some variety in it. Not many were polite like you apparently were, and Bo could admit to himself that he was curious. He never knew who had come to Ambrose until he opened the church doors. Lester never bothered to tell him anything beyond a quick text letting him know that the visitors were on the way up to the town because that was the only important thing to the brothers. Filling the town and completing their momma's legacy.

When his eyes fell on you, Bo could see that you would be the challenge he had been itching for. He was good at reading body language; he had to be in order to be successful with what he chose to do every day, and he could see that you were paranoid and on edge. He was out to get you and he hadn't even met you yet, was your mindset in this moment, and Bo had to bite back his smirk. Oh, this was going to be fun. "Hey," His voice was soft but deep - the act was in full swing now, though he was trying just a little bit harder. If you were already suspicious, then he was going to try a bit more than he usually did, if only to potentially offset you some more. If your paranoia was at total odds with his actions, then he had a greater chance of getting you in either brothers' chair. Bo still couldn't decide if his chair or Vincent's was kinder, but both had the same result: new works for the town. So he didn't care all that much. "Can I help you?"

"Uh...." Oh, help you, but you wanted to refuse. You needed to get out of this town, you needed to leave, but you were here because you needed help. You had had no choice since you had agreed to let Lester drive you here. "That depends. Are you Bo, the mechanic?" On the inside, however, your only thought was 'please say no, please say no, say no...'

"Yeah," Bo nodded, "Ya' found me. Listen, I, uh - I gotta finish up inside. Why don't'cha go back down to the station," He nodded towards the direction which you would need to go in, "and I'll meet you back there in about a half?"

More red flags raised up within you, but you had accepted his help already. It was clear that you were not in control of this situation, that this man was only asking you to meet him as a way of feigning politeness. The hard ice of his blues told you that he was demanding this of you... or were you just overthinking it? You couldn't tell anymore. That, in itself, was a bit of a red flag, but you were in too deep now. "Sure, I... thank you. I'm sorry for your loss, Bo."

Your humanisation of him took Bo by surprise. So many people spoke at him and not to him, but you had gone out of your way to use his name. It made him and the overall situation less scary for you, and it was also a way of gaining back some control for yourself. You doubted it would work, it never had before, but it was all about the small things. If he was going to fix up your car, then the very least you could do was use his name. "Yeah." Bo chuckled awkwardly, opened his mouth as if to say something, but then shook his head and left without a word.

It continued like this for some time; with Bo laying his act on just a bit thicker than he usually did (it would make the moment of realisation upon you that much sweeter for him) and with you wanting to refuse his help but not being able to because it was something you needed. By the time the sun had dipped below the horizon, kissing the sky goodnight with a burst of oranges and reds which faded out into purples and blues, the Sinclairs had well and truly ensnared you. You were a fighter, they had to give that to you, and you weren’t making it easy on them.

All good things must come to an end, however, and the moment of realisation dawned upon you when Vincent had lured you into the house of wax with the distant sounds of the music he loved to listen to. The notes of the opera he favoured sifted up through the floor, the door left ajar. It was the most obvious trap he could have set, and indeed it wasn’t something so obvious which he would usually bestow upon the visitors. But you were already on edge, already fearing the worst, already at your emotional limit with all that your mind had put you through this day. In some sick way was Vincent taking pity on you. Showing you that you had a reason to be scared, that your paranoia in this particular instance was very much the reality.

You had wandered into the foyer just as Vincent had orchestrated, glancing around at all the wax statues, but you had gotten too physically close to one of them and the bitter bouquet of death had sunk into your nostrils and awakened you to the reality.

Vincent was stood in one of the many alcoves, shrouded in shadow, with his camera turned on and pointed at you. He wanted to perfectly capture everything - your paranoia, your fear, your realisation - so that he could show Lester later on. Bo was in another alcove, a sinister grin on his face. Collectively had the twins decided not to kill you just yet. They wanted to push you to your absolute limits just to see what you would do. This was the most fun they had had in a long time.

"Oh, my - " You suppressed a gag, bile rising up your oesophagus. Your mind screamed 'no' at you, over and over, in denial were you, but your paranoia for once, for once, was right. "Oh, please tell me I'm not seeing what I think I - " You moved across the room, to where there was a couple on the sofa together, one looming over the other, and you took a long, hard look at both of them. One long finger came out and tentatively poked at the cheek of the one sat down, and everything crashed down on you at that moment. You turned and ran, but the Sinclairs were quicker than you. They had been expecting this, wanting this.

A flash of a scarred wrist and the door was shoved closed and then deftly locked when you were so close to being able to leave, and the chuckle you heard from behind you made your skin crawl, a chill dancing down your spine. "Oh, no," Bo chuckled, "You ain't goin' nowhere. S'quite a show ya' put on for us."

Your stomach dropped and Vincent crept closer and closer as he stopped recording, shut the camera quietly and slipped it into his pocket.

"Ain't had no one figure it out that fast before, m'impressed," Bo forced his body between yours and the doorway, and you took a step back. For every step back you took, Bo took one forward and so did Vincent, until you were practically sandwiched between the twins. Each held a blade in hand, which glinted in the low light of the room. With the haunting music drifting up from the floor, there was a haunting beautiful element to the events, though you were too scared to really take any of it in. Had this been a horror film, you would have appreciated the cinematography and maybe even favoured this scene over others. But this was real life (a horror all on its own), and no such thing as a back button existed. There was no walking away, no getting out.

You were right where the brothers had been wanting you ever since you had accepted Lester's help out on the road fifteen miles away from Ambrose. You'd been fucked from the start and you'd never even known it.

"Now," Bo smirked, "We can either do this the easy way, or we c'n do it my way." His blue eyes looked behind you and just over your shoulder. A message you were never going to hear translated.

Before you could fully register his words, a sharp pinprick entered the side of your neck, and the world went black. You dropped like a sack of potatoes and the brothers let you. They weren't going to kill you, but they also weren't going to let you leave. For the worst were you Ambrose's newest resident, and there was nothing you could do about it. You were trapped, alone, paranoid... and you had every right to be and then some.

[kafka-ish]

the drunken words you spoke last night (1) | b.d.

one thing leads to another and before she knows it, y/n's longtime crush becomes a casual fuck.

word count: 2,893

warnings/included: nsfw (explicit smut -- male x female, pretty vanilla), fem!reader, angst(?), also a lot of this is written in italics cuz of flashbacks

a/n: sorry it's been so long since i've written anything!!

-

It was never supposed to end up like this. Just one quick fuck was all it was supposed to be; which lead to another one, then another one, then another one…

y/n watches as Bill scurries around the room, searching for his shirt. She’s noiseless and he doesn’t know she’s awake yet. He does a good job at being quiet, making sure not to disturb what he thinks is a sleeping y/n. The grey baseball tee he wore to her place last night turned out to be underneath her bed—how it got there was a different story. The silence is broken when Bill opens the door and is met with a large creaking sound.

Don’t look back, don’t look back, don’t look—

He regrets it immediately when he sees y/n, her back against her bedframe. She’s wide-eyed from watching him with such intent.

“Hu-hey.” Bill swallows the saliva gathering in the back of his throat. “I, uh, I didn’t nuh-know—”

���It’s fine.” y/n says her words with such ease and for a moment Bill’s jealous. He wants to know a life without speech therapy, a life without the nickname Stuttering Bill. And most of all, he wants to know a life without loving someone who won’t love you back.

“So, you’re not staying?” y/n does her best to conceal the insecurity in her voice but it’s hard. She doesn’t want to come off as needy or clingy, but she wants a response she already knows the answer to.

“I duh-didn’t want t-to wake you.” Bill shrugs as he says this. Half of it was true—he really didn’t want to wake y/n but seeing as she was already up his excuse fell flat.

“Right.” It takes everything for y/n to not roll her eyes as she replies through gritted teeth.

“So…” Bill’s left foot is digging into the carpet and his fingers find themselves intertwined together.

“So.” y/n herself is picking at loose strings from her worn-out comforter. Her eyes avert from their previous lock on his figure and she doesn’t know what to do with the lump in the back of her throat. She’s annoyed—no—furious.

It was never supposed to end up like this.

“Hey,” Bill answered the door in low-rise sweats and shirtless. “What’s u—”

He’s cut off and taken aback with a messy kiss. It’s bold, breathtaking, and smelled like vodka—nothing he’d ever expect from y/n. Once the shock had passed, he felt his eyes flutter shut and he became lax under her touch.

“I need you,” y/n mumbled helplessly in between kisses. Her fingers which had previously been confidently intertwined around his neck were now reaching for the ends of her shirt.

“W-Wait—what?” Bill’s still hazy from the blunt he smoked earlier and everything’s going so fast.

“You heard me.” Uh, not really. She pressed another kiss to his already swollen lips and the feeling of his skin on hers feels a hundred times better than what she imagined it to be. “Fuck.” Her hips press up to his, but Bill can’t revel in the delicious spark their jeans create every time her hips meet his.

The Denbrough’s front door is still open.

“y/n,” Bill spoke. He tried to say it firmly, but it came out as more of a breath than an assertion.

“Hmm?” The noises coming from her are downright pornographic, which only made Bill wonder what the rest of the night will be like.

“I have to shut the door,” he whispered. His breath tickled her neck and y/n felt her face grow hotter—if that was even possible. Reluctantly, y/n relieved Bill of her possessive grip so he could shut the door. But, immediately, he noticed he’s cold—freezing, even. But how can Bill be cold in the middle of July—Maine’s hottest month?

y/n’s quick to reassume her previous position—arms swung around his tanned neck, hips bucked up desperately to meet his.

“Wuh-we should take this somewhere more comfortable. Sh-shouldn’t we?” Bill only stuttered when he’s nervous now. It’s cute.

She pressed a quick kiss onto his jawline. If there weren’t remnants of her lipstick on his skin, he’d assume he was dreaming. “Okay,” she hummed into the spot her lips had just previously grazed over. Bill shivers.

He led the two of them up the stairs and into his room. The trip is slow. Bill’s careful to make sure y/n didn’t trip or snag her top on the railing. What a gentleman.

“Bill,” she whined.

That night, Bill decided his favorite sound was her voice calling his name. He’s always loved the sound of y/n’s voice and the way his name rolled off her tongue (“Bill, watch!” “Bill are you coming?”). But this was different. Tonight was different.

“Bill, I need you.” He turned to y/n who wore a pout as she followed Bill closely into his room. It’s pitch black but Bill doesn’t need to turn on a light to know his way around.

The back of y/n’s calves hit his bed with a light thump followed by another whimper.

“Shh,” Bill cooed into her hair…

y/n awoke that morning with her too-tight tank top and faded denim shorts replaced with one of Bill’s graphic tees that drape over her figure like a dress. She finds half of her eyeliner and lipstick-stained on Bill’s grey pillowcase and there’s an empty space next to her where Bill once lay.

“Fuck,” y/n whispered to herself. She can’t remember the events that happened last night, and the pounding in her head doesn’t make it any better. But the way the sheets around her creased and wrinkled, and the way her collarbone peaked out of Bill’s Led Zeppelin tee made her skin crawl and her stomach turn.

“Hey.”

Bill’s scratchy morning voice startled y/n. His perfect tall and slender figure slanted against the doorframe and y/n had to compose herself under his sheets the way she’s done all her life.

“Hi,” she swallowed thickly. Her breathing started to pick up along with her pulse and when did it get so hot in here?

“Do you want breakfast?” Bill made a motion towards the kitchen downstairs. “My parents aren’t home still. I guh-guess they’re still out.” Bill’s parents were always “out”.

y/n only nodded.

“Look, about last night—”

“Whatever happened last night, I can—”

“Did you mean it?” Bill cut her off, not even listening to the word vomit spilling from y/n’s splotchy lips.

“Mean what?” y/n’s ungroomed eyebrows furrowed together inquisitively because what the fuck? What on earth happened last night that could have left Bill Denbrough wondering for answers in the morning?

“Wuh-when you said that stuff about needing me.” From the flushed cheeks and timid words, y/n could tell Bill felt awkward saying to her what he’d just said.

Mortification took the form of y/n y/l/n that morning. The tiny hairs on her neck started to rise and goosebumps shot a trail down her forearms.

Bill crept forward after he didn’t receive a response. His face was only a few inches away from y/n’s. The swoosh of his I-just-woke-up hair framed his hairline like an auburn halo. To make matters worse, the morning sun shone directly on his skin, giving him a god-like glow.

“Did you?” His minty breath hit her face. Colgate.

Instead of watching his swimmingly blue eyes—swimming for answers, an indication, anything—she watched his lips. She admired how rosy they were even in the morning. She admired the curl of his cupid’s bow. She admired how soft they looked and felt as she bit the bullet and shoved herself forward to kiss him.

This kiss is different from last night. It’s daring, yet nervous; sweet, but awkward. It’s not the same as her desperate kisses from when she was wasted. This kiss is slow, thoughtful—

Bill pulled away. His breaths grew heavy, and his eyesight got hazy. The only thing he could think to do was go in for another kiss. So, he did. He’s quick to capture her bottom lip with his and cup her jawline in the palm of his hand.

Bill’s impatient now. His parents were gone, and he had a beautiful girl in his bed. What else was a teenage boy to do? In a flash of flesh, Bill’s shirt was gone.

“Do-do you want this?” He asked before he made the effort to remove any other articles of clothing and possibly embarrass himself further. Of course, Bill would be perfectly fine with getting off in the other room with just his bruised ego and bare chest to keep him company.

But y/n was fast to reply “yes” and press yet another kiss on Bill’s swollen lips. Their flesh pinned against each other’s elicited a feeling inside the two that both y/n and Bill had never felt before.

“You smell good,” Bill murmured against her shoulder. The words slipped out of his mouth like a hockey puck on ice. “I bet you taste even better.”

y/n grew flustered at the sudden statement. It wasn’t like Bill to confess something like that—at least not to her. Before another moan, like the ones from last night, could claw its way out of her throat, y/n caught Bill sliding the elastic of his grey sweats down his long legs.

He’s in his boxers. y/n could only catch glimpses of streaks of greens and yellows but didn’t get a chance to look at them for long as her attention was redirected to taking off her—Bill’s—shirt.

Although he knew it wasn’t gentlemanly, Bill could only stare at y/n’s bra-clad chest. It’s just black, simple, classic. But it hugged y/n’s figure effortlessly and contorted her shape perfectly.

“Bill?” y/n wondered aloud. His silence worried her, but she has nothing to worry about—she’s got Bill hooked like a fish.

Her meek words snapped Bill out of his trance, which allowed him to press another kiss onto her lips before he trailed down to her neck. Each graze of his lips turned her into a moaning mess. Bill wished he could say he was surprised, but he wasn’t, not from when he remembered the events from last night so vividly.

His lips lingered a little longer on a certain spot just above her collarbone that made y/n’s lips part so erotic-like, Bill thought he might cum at the sight.

But he wouldn’t allow himself to release just mere seconds in of making out with his dream girl—even if it pained him.

He released his lips from her skin, leaving a bruise. Bill chuckled to himself. At least, if he can’t have her, he can pretend he does for these few moments until she leaves for home and covers his mark with her trusty concealer.

Their lips clashed again. It was hard and rough—y/n’s more dominant than she let on and before either of them realized, she was on top: legs straddled Bill’s torso, nimble fingers gripped at his skin where a shirt used to be, and her lips viscously stained his red with what was left of her lipstick from last night.

Bill’s the one to moan this time. The sound was throaty and gruff, which sent shocks straight to y/n’s core. She bucked up, causing Bill to moan again and the cycle repeats.

“Fuck, y/n, I need you.” y/n liked this side of Bill: the bolder, dominant side; the speak-your-mind side. But most of all, y/n liked Bill.

She giggled at his words. She loved the way his voice cracked with desperation and the way his fingers began to clutch her skin tighter—like she was his.

The delicate sound of y/n’s voice only made Bill want her more. The tent in his boxers grew impossibly harder—a contradicting feeling of pain and desire at the same time.

“Please.” It wasn’t long until Bill’s groans turned into pleads. The rough palms of his hands coast across her bare skin, causing goosebumps to form and hair to raise. “Please.” The fast movements of y/n’s clothed clit on his plaid-covered dick matched the fast beats of y/n’s pounding heart.

Ba-dumb. Ba-dumb. Ba-dumb.

“Plu-“

“Tell me what you want,” Bill’s voice easily sliced through y/n’s pathetic whines, “using your words,” he instructed clearly.

“I wah—” Another whine. “I want you.”

At that, the rough pad of Bill’s thumb started to massage the sharp edge of y/n’s jaw. “I need you to be more specific, baby.”

Baby? Bill’s never called her that before. Actually, Bill’s never had a girl as beautiful as y/n on top of his lap before but here he was, the tent in his boxers being barely relieved by the girl by his dreams.

“I—” The sensation of the fabric against skin felt too much to bear but she wanted more. “I want your—your cock in me. Please.” She said this through lazy lips and heavy lids.

“F-f-fuck.” Bill groaned at the vulgarity of her words. Never in his life would he expect y/n to utter something as filthy as that. But never in his life would Bill Denbrough ever expect to be offered the chance to fuck her. “Okay, baby, hold on.” His calloused palm slowly slipped its way down from the slope of her jaw to her neck where fingerprints were left and then down to the clasp of her bra.

The damn thing. As hard as his hand grasped and as hard as his fingers twisted, the clip wouldn’t budge.

“Need some help?” y/n giggled, as she noticed Bill’s pained expression. Effortlessly, she unhooked the cursed contraption. It was as effortless as how the piece of fabric once made her look so perfect. But perfection didn’t change once the garment left her skin. Bill then realized that it wasn’t the strawberry-stained lips or the dramatic smokey eye or the tempting clothing that made y/n perfect. y/n was already perfect on her own; everything else was just a prop.

Bill’s once furrowed brows softened when y/n began to take the lead. His bare back pressed further into the mattress in the same motion y/n’s chest leaned into his.

Her crotch just barely brushed his and Bill couldn’t take the ‘almost there’ feeling anymore. “I hate these,” he bit. His hand swooped down to peel off the lacy string of fabric in one harsh motion.

“This is a little unfair, isn’t it?” y/n posed. Her eyebrow raised a little the way it always did when she asked a question. Her hands were cold when they made a trail down his chest and to his boxers. “Now we’re even,” she giggled when she finally released him from his confinements.

In an instant, Bill’s erection had slapped his stomach and y/n found herself near salivating at the sight. Her thumb just barely brushed the tip, letting out a hiss from Bill.

“Baby—”

“Shh…” Before Bill could get another word out through choked moans and deep breaths, y/n led his cock to her heat. Immediately, she let out a whine at the stretch of Bill which he chuckled at. “Bill..”

“Yes?” Bill couldn’t help but smirk at the fact that he was making her feel this way. He was the one whose name she was moaning. He was the one she was fucking.

“Bill…harder…” Her moans were like a record Bill would never get tired of hearing. His right hand moved to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear before his fingers gripped her scalp while his left hand moved just below her butt, allowing him to thrust deeper.

Moans turned into whines and whines turned into screams as Bill set the pace faster and harder. Each thrust hit deeper each time, hitting a spot no boy had ever found before. “Bill, I’m—” But y/n’s words were cut off when Bill’s lips captured hers in a kiss. His hand still found itself tangled in her morning hair. His other hand still tightly gripped on her ass which would surely leave a bruise. His hips bucked up once more, leaving y/n in a moaning mess, unable to hold herself above him anymore. With shaky arms, y/n allowed herself to collapse on Bill’s chest. Their breaths mixed and their pants synced.

Tenaciously, Bill pressed a kiss upon y/n’s sweat-slicked forehead. The feeling of his lips was gentle and tickled as they dragged down to her cheekbone.

It was never supposed to end up like this, y/n could only think to herself now as she watched Bill walk out of her room and presumably out the front door. Of course, he’d be back the next night. Ever since their first drunken encounter with each other, casual sex had become second nature to y/n and Bill—like learning how to tie your shoes or riding your bike. But it was at this moment when y/n realized how she wanted more.

Hickies and torn shirts would never be enough to satisfy the aching need for something deeper; the feeling that made her stomach drop every time she caught Bill looking at her; the feeling that made her throat dry up every time she tried to speak to him outside of moans and cries; the feeling that made her heart skip a beat at the thought of him; the feeling of want—and only want—for Bill Denbrough.

[cyberrat]

64th Batch Of Fics: 2nd Fill

OC / OCs – Milky AU – Part 74 – medical kink; pseudo science – No time like the present to get some e-du-ca-tion!

---

Danny is nodding along but Professor Williams isn’t sure whether he’s just moving for movements sake or has actually listened along, so he pauses, folding his hands in front of his lap. After a moment, he nods to himself.

“Ah, this might be a good teaching moment as well. I know – or at least I strongly hope so – that the issue of consent has been discussed exhaustively throughout your life and your movement through our educational system, but I will gladly reiterate it here: if there is a cause to doubt whether the other person has actively understood what is or will be happening to them, simply wait for an opportunity to make properly sure. Nothing easier than that, yes?”

The students murmur amongst themselves. The Professor decides to believe that they are discussing his words just now with gusto instead of talking about the catty cry of Mister Reyes just now as he arched his back and started to pump out a rather impressive load.

Professor Williams takes heed not to accidentally step on the splattered cum as he moves around the table. Once Mister Reyes has calmed himself down he clears his throat and asks: “Would you mind getting on all fours? I think it’s time…”

“F-For the show part. Yeah… yeah, I heard you alright,” Danny rasps. He is flushed and out of breath but very eager to move along. Williams has to offer him some assistance so he can twist around carefully, his huge belly hindering his freedom of movement. While his attention is on the calf and to make sure he is comfortable, the students’ murmuring becomes somewhat louder as they feel less scrutinized now. The air in the auditorium has become thicker even though they’ve previously opened as many windows as possible to keep the air circulation going.

It smells of arousal. Also nothing out of the ordinary – at least for the professor. The students will learn some restraint with time; there are things that they have to get exposed to again and again in order to learn. While they have all grown up in a society with cows and calfs, most of them have never really engaged with them in this way. Certainly not with one that is crashing hard and fast into a Fuck Hunger as far as Williams can tell.

Danny is already starting to drool, his puffy nipples pearling with milk. As soon as he is on all fours, he curls his tail to the side in invitation; waiting to get mounted.

“Excuse me,” he mutters, hectic with excitement as he hurries to grab the camera hanging on a highly flexible arm from the ceiling. He fumbles around for a moment as he both tries to turn on the large projection screen as well as position the camera properly which results in everything taking longer if he had just stopped and done one at a time but every once in a while he can’t help his own excitement, right?

It’s not every day one got the opportunity to show off such a beautiful prime specimen to the curious, eager minds of tomorrow’s health care providers. Finally, though, Mister Reyes’ behind is front and center on the large screen. The camera had been upgraded some time ago, showing everything down to the small hairs dusting his cheeks and the freckles visible on his skin.

Perfect. Funds used well for once.

“In just a minute I will ask you to form an orderly line, put on a pair of the latex gloves you find over there, and have a feel for yourself, but for now I would like you to simply witness this.”

He has put on a pair of gloves himself, the snapping of the latex loud against his wrist. It’s gone so very quiet again, he’s half sure he can hear a thick swallow or two.

The Professor has an eye on the large projection screen, having tho awkwardly shift to the side so he wouldn’t block the view with his body as he grabs the calf’s cheeks and carefully spreads them open with the air of someone holding a fruit right on the cusp between perfectly ripe and spoiled.

“Would you look at that.” His hushed voice of reverence is completely drowned by the low, drawn-out groan of the calf once the comparatively cool air of the auditorium hits his swollen, glistening hole. “This is the hole of a perfectly healthy calf most of the time. You will find that he is still secreting more than enough slick despite obviously not being able to conceive at the moment but that is nothing unusual at all. Many calfs and even some very adaptable cows have to manage life with a constant low level of arousal.”

He lightly touches two fingers to it, dragging them all around the rim, then showing his glistening fingertips to the camera and how a thick string of slick stretches between them once he rubs them together a little and spreads them apart.

“Well then. I will show you now what I would like you to try in a moment: Once you have put on the gloves, carefully insert two fingers of your dominant hand like so… you may hold on to the calf’s tail if they buck a bit too much but remember not to exert too much force to avoid inflicting pain. Do not… do not be alarmed by a big show of emotion like that, it seems… ah, it seems Mister Reyes is particularly sensitive today- Are you alright, Mister Reyes?”

He has trouble standing properly to the side to not block the camera while also keeping his fingers inside the hot, silky clutch of the calf’s body. Danny is groaning long and low; more a moo than anything else, really, as he thrusts his ass back, obviously trying to fuck himself.

“W-Whu? Yeah, yeah… yeah, f-fu- I mean… d-dang. Come on- more please-”

The professor nods, clearing his throat. “Very well uh… yes. You should insert your fingers like so. You may move them around a little, get a feeling for how a calf feels. You will find them very… uh… very slippery and with a notably high temperature. Once you have your bearings, feel around a bit harder against the wall of their intestines, you should eventually be able to find the- ah. There it is.”

Danny has thrown his head back, a wordless, slack-faced sound of pleasure bursting from him when Williams touches his prostate, rounding it in two firm swirls before pulling his fingers back out. “They will usually let you know once you found it. Okay, then…” he trails off a little once he turns back toward the students. He shouldn’t be surprised at their flushed faces and glassy-eyed stares but it always takes him by surprise how quickly the atmosphere in the room can change during this particular lesson. “Form a line. Take a pair of gloves. No rushing or pushing, please! Everybody will get a short turn. We do not want to make Mister Reyes wait longer then necessary, yes? He is carrying heavily, after all. Slowly! Slowly, no running!”

[sparkbeast20]

You’re my Treasure (Mammon X MC) Pt11

The Blue Lotus petals (series)

As a fan of Beauty X Beast pairing, Showing your “true self” to Lover or (Monster Love) Tropes. I figure to make a (More Demonic Forms AU/head canon) story for each brothers. Heads up each brother’s Story is long as fuck. So, I’ll be posting them as parts and finishing one brother before moving on to the rest of them.

(spoiler for lesson 1-60)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6 Pt7 Pt8 Pt9 Pt10

Warning: Swearing, Demonic nature, Mention of blood, Past events, Unwanted hate towards a family member, and Attempted murder.

Note: I am really bad at warning.

Previously

The sound of coins being step on quietly filled the cavern, as someone pick up the old book on the ground and return back to sleep.

“So, you don’t want to control my body?” Mammon asks the beast reflected in the lake.

No....I have seen how your brothers treated you, and frankly I think you should fight back!

Mammon pouts at him, not likely the way his saying this.

“Hey! They might be a pain in the ass, but that all family are. Sure, we are at each other’s throats, but we have each others back when we need the most.” The beast huffs at that.

Name one time, you all agree to do something!

“The reaper’s cave”

Hm?

“We might not say it out loud, but we truly wanted to help Beel in anyway possible. Hell, it was a miracle that y/n was there. If was for them giving some of their candle to Beel, we would have made it a regular thing to go back to that cave for Beel.” He starts playing around with his ring, to distract himself from missing his brothers.

It seems that the human choice you out of your brothers why is that?

“y/n is not just a human! And why would you care if y/n choose me?”

I don’t know Mammon, why least you been repeating it in your head over and over causing me to wake up!

Suddenly Mammon felt a lump in his throat, he wants to respond but hesitant for a moment, then he spat it out.

“I haven’t done any of that”

Really? Let me refresh your memories

The last part the beast voice changes into his voice as he starts talking into it.

“I failed as protector and a guardian!” “They deserve better than me!” “Why they have to choose me to love” “Why settle with a weak and pathetic demon like me” “I SHOULDN’T BE SECOND OF THE AVATARS!?!”

Half way of the beast speech Mammon covered his ears, shut his eyes, and grinned his teeth with a snarl coming out of him. But he just keeps repeating his thoughts over his mind. Until Mammon scream.

“OKAY I GET IT!” he drops down it all fours as pant like he was exhausted. “I-I can’t be the demon they all want me to be”

Because you keep letting them to fill your mind with those thoughts, but what you should be doing is SHOW THEM!

Mammon looks back to the lake and asks “What do you mean?”

Kill The demon who attack our mate

“I can’t do that; the bastard knows and what I can do. Even if want to kill him, he’ll just move one location to the other”

Not unless you change into me…...

“I can’t…...” Mammon clenches his hands, digging his talons into his palms drawing blood as his body to tremble in the thought of changing back to that form the memories flood back in his mind, all the fights, the wounds which heals but the mental scars remain, and watching Levi and Asmo change right Infront of him. Their scream of agony rings in his ear as tears and blood drip down in to the ground as he starts to sob.

Are you scare after killing Basto, you’ll go and killing your brother while they’re in those forms?

Mammon quickly nods while his looking down at his bleeding hands.

You don’t have to worry about that

The beast spoke with a softer tone causing Mammon to look back at the lake.

“Wh?”

Look you and I are the same being, when I tell you that all you have to do is stay away from them for a week or two, to have better control over yourself and your instinct you might be the first one out of the seven of you to able to turn into your demonic form without the resist of killing your brothers.

Mammon is done founded about the beast just said.

“How are you sure that I can do that?”

Simple you and Asmo are the only ones that didn’t attack y/n when you get angry and threaten them. And you are the only one who never use violence against them by changing into your demon form. You might be a hothead but you never or will raise a hand to your brothers or to our mate.

Mammon is left speechless, the thing that he been scare of knows him well to the point of trusting him for being himself. He was right as much he hates being the first one to be targeting with name calling because of his sin, is not like his the only one, Asmo calling him a horn dog, Levi with his weird obsession with things and getting emotional, Beel with eating all the time, Belphie with out of nowhere naps and sleeps, Satan with his anger issues, and Lucifer being too proud for his own good.

Their demons now, is something they should be use to. But him have the most control out of the seven of them, makes him fill warm inside. That he should be proud of, and why he should let his brothers tell him that he has no self-control when anger.

But his sin oh yeah! He can’t argue with that, I mean he was willing to help Solomon to forge a pact with Lucifer for the Midas crest, and immediately takes all back when Asmo points out that once he gets the crest, he won’t able to touch you due to the crest make everything he touch turns into gold. It had to take Asmo to point it out, who just said it to openly admit that it will be less competition for him. To realize that he could have made one of his biggest mistakes of his life, for what gold!

Looking back at his hands and/or talons then his wings, looks back at his newly grown tail. It too late, he’s far along of the transformation as he his. If he agrees with the beast’s plan, its going to take some time, means that you need to go back.

“Hey, before I agree to yer plan, let me take y/n back to my brothers”

Mammon…. their better with us then back with your brothers

“Yer crazy!?! What if I kill them!”

MAMMON The last thing we want is our MATE DYING. AGAIN! I’m still a little mad at Sloth for what he did! He’s luckily that y/n forgave him, because if they didn’t rest assure, I would’ve wakened up that day!

Mammon flinch and snarl at just remember that day. Holding your past self in his arms as you choke on your blood causing Belphie. If he’s being honest with himself, sometimes he gets piss off whenever Belphie took a nap at your lap and asks pat his head like, he didn’t try to kill you long ago.

That reflex he just did, get angry when you get hurt or someone trying to hurt you. Maybe his beast does have a point.

“Okay, I’ll do it……I’ll-I’ll change, IF!! You make sure that y/n safety is my-our one goal! Go it!”

Even with a beak the beast smirk at Mammon

You have my word…… also you might feel A LOT of pain!

“Huh?...... Wh?”

Before Mammon can say anything else, he felt a pain in his abdomen, he wants to scream but he bites his lips muffling the scream. As he dug his talons into the ground dragging his hands closer to him. Then the pain slowly got worst by each heart beat and panting.

Soon the he couldn’t take it anymore and let out an agnosies scream.

Then a faith voice calls out to him.

“……Mammon…...”

“Mammon!”

Mammon wakes up from the dream by someone grooming his tail, he slowly opens his eyes and lifted up his head and let out a wake-up yawn. And turn his head to whoever is touching his tail.

His eyes narrows and he groans at the sight who it was.

“Morning Mammon, have a good night sleep” Asmo flash he cheerful smile as he fixes the feathers of his tail. “When is the last time you check your tail feathers, look at them some of them are uneven and others stuck together see….” He points at feathers with the vane split apart with dry blood.

“Oi! I didn’t have a chance to clean myself and beside y/n usually brushes and cleans my feathers so, back off” Mammon squawks at Asmo who just giggle at him.

Right, no one can hear him, well no one expect Lucifer who is close to what he is now. He just has to have you use gestures and his eyes to convey what he’s thinking.

“What a pain in the ass, ya all don’t listen to me when I was normal. Now I have to deal with this crap!?! Tch whatever, the herd must be at the lake at this time. Might as well get some food……. Oh shit! Beel’s here…. Great……”

“I know that you’re not a morning demon, so I know that your cranky. But maybe not try to be loud so you won’t wake up y/n” that snap Mammon out of his train of thought.

Surprise to what Asmo said, Mammon looked down in his arms to see your sleeping form curled up next to his chest as you nuzzle your cheek into in with a smile on your face.

He faces softens as gently rub your face with his, as a soothing cooing and purring comes off from him, causing you to let out a satisfying hum as you fall more asleep.

Then Mammon reaches out with beak for a thick fabric from the nest. Then he slowly and gently lay you on the nest and place the fabric under your head serving as a pillow as you continue to sleep.

Then he stood up leave the nest as Asmo let go of his tail and gazing at his brother’s action. Once out of the nest Mammon stretches bending down then stand back straight shake body ruffle his feathers and once finish the feathers fixes themselves as Mammon being his daily routine beginning with leaving the cave. And Asmo got up and follow his big brother.

“I-I don’t believe it. There’s no SIGNAL HERE!!!” Levi is basically reaching for the havens on top of the tree trying to get a signal for his D.D.D, but to no avail.

“Levi! Get down from there” Lucifer yells at Levi causing to flinch almost letting of the branch he was holding to keep himself balance.

From afar Satan and Belphie watches the two older brothers, with Beel who is cook breakfast inside the cave.

“Its just me or is Lucifer losing~”

“His cool? Yes, I’m all for it” Satan is gleefully smile at the sight of Lucifer completely abandoning all of his calmed and serious demeanor, for an anger, short tempered and animalistic one.

Then suddenly they heard talons being drag through rock behind them, they turn around to see Mammon walking out from the cavern and heading outside with Asmo not far behind him.

“Mammon, your awake you got to see this Lucifer is blowing a casket at Levi~” Mammon just keep on walking out ignoring Satan.

“Wait where you going? Breakfast is about to start” Beel got up from he sits next to the campfire and chase after Mammon.

Once outside, flap his wings and start flying, grabbing the attention of Lucifer and Levi.

“MAMMON!?!” Lucifer calls out to him, as he flew after him grabbing Levi’s arm towing along.

As Levi scream for help fade, Satan look at Asmo with a questionable look on his face.

“What did you do”

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that. I was just cleaning the feathers in his tail; I mean you saw him covered in blood of that bastard. You would have done the same thing” Asmo huffs and walk back inside.

“Oh, before you go, Lucifer was looking for the book that he used. Have you seen it?” but Asmo shook his head, not even looking at Satan as he went in to Help Beel with breakfast.

“Clearly one of us is lying about the book” Belphie said it looking at Satan.

“Obviously, but the question is who is lying”

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 110

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 110: Open This

Though the Hako Onna's position could change, the position of the items inside the chests could not. In other words, if somebody had already opened a chest and seen what was in it, then the next person did not have to waste a chance on the previously opened chest.

Opening the chests was dangerous, but there was potential profit in the danger. If they could find an item that could kill the Hako Onna or give her rest, or if it was the strongbox passcode or something like that, then the humans would gain the advantage.

After his speech, Sun Yuanzhou swept his gaze through the crowd, voice terrifyingly cold: "I know what you're all thinking. You want to pick up other people's leftovers, right? Zhu Meng, you've played the game before. Tell them, can Hako Onna enter chests that have already been opened?"

"Of course she can," Ruan Nanzhu answered evenly. "The chests close after opening, so Hako Onna can definitely move inside. For those who want to avoid danger, I recommend you don't try to play for leftovers. It’s better to starve."

"Hear that?" Sun Yuanzhou said. "Intel. That's what's most important right now—intel. Open boxes in groups of at least two. This way, if anything happens, there's someone to take the record."

Frankly put, this was so that should anyone open up a Hakobito or the Hako Onna, they wouldn't disappear without anyone knowing.

"That's right, didn't Xiao Ji open up a power called False Answers yesterday?" Ruan Nanzhu told everybody what they'd discovered earlier in order to prevent anybody else from getting tricked. "In the tabletop, this power meant that the player acting as Hako Onna could lie. But here, the power's changed accordingly—Hako Onna can hide in chests and sound like people you know. So if you hear any sounds, don't think that someone you know has been caught."

Sun Yuanzhou nodded his own understanding, and looked at the group.

"Any other questions?"

The people seated around the table began to whisper among themselves, discussing the information Ruan Nanzhu gave them and Sun Yuanzhou's suggestions.

"We're also not going to make you open any chests. If you think you can bear the hunger, then go on, starve." Sun Yuanzhou added one last option: "You can also wait until you're so hungry that you can't take it any longer, and open a chest then."

"I have a question." A young woman from the group stood up. Lin Qiushi remembered her name was Xuan Zihui. She pointed a finger at Ruan Nanzhu. "She's the one who's been telling us all this information. If she's lying to us, we have no way of knowing."

When he heard this, Sun Yuanzhou started to say something. But Ruan Nanzhu laughed, raising his chin and speaking with derision: "If you'd like, you don't have to believe me at all. I don't mind."

Sun Yuanzhou, "exactly." He was clearly taking Ruan Nanzhu's side against Xuan Zihui's suspicions. "If you can provide any other intel, nobody would mind."

Xuan Zihui wanted to add something else, but was stopped by a tug from someone beside her, indicating she should stop.

"If we were in another door, I might have something to gain from lying to you. But in this door, there's no profit to speak of from lying." Ruan Nanzhu wasn't even looking at Xuan Zihui, evidently disdainful of her doubts. "Increase the number of Hakobito, and you think I'll have an easier time beating this game?"

"The nature of this door is a bit special. We can set all of that aside for now. I think it's best we focus on the matter of opening the chests," someone spoke up as peacemaker.

Sun Yuanzhou fished out sticky notes from his bag and distributed them among those gathered. He warned everybody that if anyone managed to open up an item or one of Hako Onna's powers, then they had to talk. There could be no hiding.

People took the sticky notes with a rich range of expressions. Everybody clearly was taking their own measure of the situation.

After that everybody made a pact to exchange information every day at noon. They would trade discoveries from the day before and also check on the number of survivors.

When the meeting concluded, the group scattered.

"Do you think they'll open up any chests?" Lin Qiushi began discussing with Ruan Nanzhu. They had him to listen to chests. Compared to everybody else, they had a much wider margin of safety.

"No," Ruan Nanzhu said. "They're all sly old foxes keen on surviving. Nobody will open a chest today at least."

"Then we have to wait until morning?" Lin Qiushi understood Ruan Nanzhu's meaning. "Breakfast, right?"

Ruan Nanzhu smiled.

"Yeah. Though that's only one meal a day, you don't have to starve if you've got the one meal."

"Honestly, upon careful thought, this is not a bad method," Liang Miye sighed. She was talking about the door's restriction. After all, if it didn't force them to open up the chests, then these people could definitely hole up in this mansion for months.

She mumbled, "who doesn't want to get out as soon as possible though…"

That night, many people lost sleep. Perhaps it was due to hunger. Perhaps it was terror.

Lin Qiushi didn't manage to sleep well either. For most of the night, he stayed halfway in and out of dreams. Amidst the drowsiness, he suddenly felt Ruan Nanzhu climb into his bed.

"Nanzhu…" Lin Qiushi mumbled. "What is it?"

Ruan Nanzhu got up close to Lin Qiushi's ear and whispered, "Linlin, are you hungry at all?"

Lin Qiushi, "a bit…"

Who wouldn't be hungry after not eating all day? He was only hungry, however, not so starved that he couldn't stand it.

But he didn't expect that after he said this, Ruan Nanzhu would fish something out of his own pajama pocket. Lin Qiushi looked down and saw that it was a piece of chocolate.

"Half for you and half for me." Pinching the chocolate between his fingers, Ruan Nanzhu lightly snapped it apart. "It'll be our secret."

The corners of his eyes curved up, and Lin Qiushi thought his smile was very lovely.

"How much did you bring?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"Not much…" Ruan Nanzhu answered. He tore the wrapper off and brought the chocolate to Lin Qiushi's lips. "Go ahead, eat."

Before Lin Qiushi could say anything, he felt the chocolate push into his mouth. On reflex he gave Ruan Nanzhu's fingers a lick, and saw Ruan Nanzhu's pupils darken.

Ruan Nanzhu, "is it sweet?"

Lin Qiushi nodded.

Ruan Nanzhu got closer and lapped at his lips.

"It is sweet."

He didn't eat the other piece, but wrapped it back up and stuffed it into his pocket.

"How come you're not eating?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"I'm not hungry," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Sleep. We have to wake up early tomorrow."

Lin Qiushi watched Ruan Nanzhu's eyes. However impressive he was, Ruan Nanzhu was still just a regular human; he also got hungry if he didn't eat.

Lin Qiushi still wanted to talk, but Ruan Nanzhu was already squirming into his arms, kissing him once on the chin and whispering, "shh, stop talking, you'll wake Miye. Go to sleep already."

Seeing Ruan Nanzhu's adamant attitude, Lin Qiushi could only give in. He reached out and wrapped his arms tightly around Ruan Nanzhu.

The Ruan Nanzhu inside this door wasn't small or frail—he was just a few degrees livelier compared to outside. At least, Lin Qiushi thought, if they were outside, he wouldn't dare to fantasize about wrapping Ruan Nanzhu up in his arms to tenderly cherish...

The first thing next morning, Liang Miye stared at the hugging clump of people on the bed, eyes bugging out.

"Good morning," Ruan Nanzhu greeted her easily upon waking.

Liang Miye said, "you two…"

Just as she wanted to ask why they were sharing a bed, she saw Ruan Nanzhu press a kiss to Lin Qiushi's cheek, calling, "Linlin, time to wake up."

Lin Qiushi mumbled drowsily, "good morning."

Liang Miye, "…" Oh fuck, she seemed to have learned something she shouldn't have known. The leader of Obsidian was dating one of his own members?! Wasn't that a bit too similar to her own boss?!

Neither Lin Qiushi nor Ruan Nanzhu reacted to Liang Miye's shock, washing up in tranquil peace and heading to the dining room.

Once in the dining room, they saw the atmosphere among the crowd and knew their guess last night was correct. Of course the door wasn't going to be merciful and grant them a loophole—if they didn't open any chests, they couldn't have breakfast either.

Only Xiao Ji, who'd opened up a chest yesterday, was happily stuffing his mouth with hotcakes. People watched from around him, eyes red with jealousy.

"Heheh. No use looking at me like that. If you want to eat just open up some chests."

Lin Qiushi's group found chairs to sit in and waited for others to show. After a while, Sun Yuanzhou's group arrived late. They sat down, gave everyone a smile, and began picking up and eating the food on the table—these people had also opened some chests.

"You guys opened the chests?" Xuan Zihui, who'd voiced suspicions about Ruan Nanzhu yesterday, hurried to ask. "What did you find?"

"You could say we were lucky, but you could also say we weren't." Sun Yuanzhou only spoke after swallowing a mouthful of porridge. "Two empty boxes, one power for Hako Onna."

"We opened up another power!" The crowd was slightly despairing. "What did you open??"

Sun Yuanzhou put the power card on the table. Lin Qiushi was closest, and read the text in a moment: Open This.

"What does that mean??" Everybody looked toward the only one who knew the rules—Ruan Nanzhu.

"It's a troublesome power," Ruan Nanzhu sighed. "The Hako Onna can force a player to open a designated chest…"

The group sank immediately into silence.

"Meaning what? Meaning she can choose somebody to die?" The one speaking was a newbie who looked on the verge of breakdown. "Is that what that means?"

"Yes." Ruan Nanzhu's answer was light.

"But this is also our chance." Seeing looks of despair surface on everybody's faces, Ruan Nanzhu continued in a warmer tone. "The Hako Onna and Hakobito can actually be killed. It just takes one of the special items. And, the way to kill them is to use the item on the chest before opening it. These items are hidden inside the chests, so if you can open one up, you can render this power null."

Nobody replied, because everybody knew in their hearts that things wouldn't be so easy.

With two hundred chests, who know where those items were hidden?

A hopeless aura enveloped the crowd. Around the dining table, the sound of crying once again started.

Sun Yuanzhou clearly had no good feelings to spare the sobbing, breathless newbies. As soon as he finished eating he got up and left with his companions.

Ruan Nanzhu and Lin Qiushi didn't dally around the dining table either—it wasn't like they could eat at any rate.

"Let's go see about the chests in the study first," Ruan Nanzhu suggested after leaving the dining room.

"Okay," Lin Qiushi nodded.

They got to the study, and Lin Qiushi selected two random chests. After bending down and listening closely to confirm no sounds were coming from inside, he took a deep breath and decided to be the first to open one.

"Let me try first," Lin Qiushi said. He actually wasn't all that confident. With another deep breath, he clasped the top of the chest and lifted with force—empty. There was nothing in the chest at all. As he exhaled in relief, Lin Qiushi also felt a sense of disappointment.

He hadn't been able to open up a useful item.

"You take the next chest," Ruan Nanzhu said, looking toward Liang Miye who stood off at the side, not saying much.

"Me?" Lin Qiushi was a bit shocked. She was already mentally prepared to go hungry for two days—it was Lin Qiushi's power, after all. Two days wasn't much anyways, it wouldn't kill her. But she hadn't thought that Ruan Nanzhu would give her this opportunity.

"Mh," Ruan Nanzhu nodded.

Liang Miye had wanted to refuse, but then saw determined Ruan Nanzhu was.

"It's only two days," he said. "It's not a big deal."

Liang Miye, "alright… But you don't have to starve either. I brought in some food of my own. Though it's not much, it'll do to curb the hunger."

Ruan Nanzhu shot her a smile.

"Okay then."

Liang Miye chose a chest. Lin Qiushi gave it a listen, then nodded, indicating she could open it. Like Lin Qiushi, she held her breath when she got ready and opened the chest with careful motions. There was something inside her chest—a card with a number 3 on it.

"It's the passcode to the safe!" Lin Qiushi exclaimed.

"Not so bad," Liang Miye grinned, slipping the card into her pocket.

Ruan Nanzhu, however, didn't smile. In fact, he sighed.

"What's the sigh for?" Lin Qiushi asked him.

"Opening the safe is the most troublesome way of getting out of here," Ruan Nanzhu told him.

"Why do you say that?" Liang Miye asked.

"Because the passcode might not be in a single person's possession. So when it comes time to leave, who does the hint go to?" Ruan Nanzhu said. "But it's too early to think about that now. We'll talk later."

As the three kept discussing matters, they heard, coming from the dining room downstairs, a young girl's wailing cry. This cry was piercing and anguished—it belonged to the Hako Onna.

When they heard this sound, all three of their expressions changed for the worse.

In the tabletop, Hako Onna couldn't use a power immediately after a player opens one up. She must first cry to make the power truly belong to her. Though Hako Onna's cry exposed her location, it told all the players at the same time that she had gained one more power.

"I've got such a bad feeling about this," Liang Miye said.

Neither Lin Qiushi nor Ruan Nanzhu spoke.

The entire mansion was sunk in an air of despondency. Lin Qiushi came down from the second floor and saw pale-faced newbies sitting in the living room. They seemed to have given up on any hope of surviving, sitting there utterly still like wooden figures.

These were all people that Wei Xiude had brought inside, but Wei Xiude was currently nowhere to be seen. Clearly, after these people became a hindrance, he'd given up on them.

Lin Qiushi thought that this guy really ought to change his name, from Wei "Meritorious" Xiude to Meritless. It would be more fitting.

When it came lunchtime, only half of the group of twenty could move their chopsticks. The rest either didn't come to the dining room at all or they sat there staring.

Sun Yuanzhou was a bit shocked that Ruan Nanzhu also wasn't eating. He asked, "you didn't open one either?"

"I was scared," Ruan Nanzhu pouted, all soft and weak as he leaned against Lin Qiushi's shoulder. His long lashes trembled, and his expression was pitiful. "What if I open it and something weird comes out?"

Sun Yuanzhou said, "but you can't keep not eating."

It seemed that he liked Ruan Nanzhu enough to care about him this much.

Ruan Nanzhu didn't reply.

There really was a good amount of people not eating, even a few veterans. Thanks to Xiao Ji, Wei Xiude managed to eat his fill. His look of contentment did not put others in a good mood.

After eating, the group traded some information. No one had yet opened up any particularly useful items. Only one person found a can of gasoline.

Ruan Nanzhu explained the gasoline's use. It can restrict the Hako Onna's movement once or kill a Hakobito, but the condition to use it was that you had to be certain that the Hakobito or Hako Onna were in that particular chest, and use it while the chest was closed.

The person who found the gasoline let out a breath and said he was safe for tomorrow then. As long as he used the gasoline before opening the chest, he could be a hundred percent certain that the chest he opened was safe.

Liang Miye also told everyone about them finding a piece of the strongbox passcode, but she didn't tell them what the digit was. She only said that if anyone else found any, they could work together. Whoever had more digits could get the key, and if everybody found only one, then they would play rock-paper-scissors for the key.

This was the fairest method. Plus, others hadn't found any other digits yet, so everybody quickly agreed.

After exchanging intel, the group dispersed.

Ruan Nanzhu seemed a bit sleepy. He kept yawning after getting up from the table.

Lin Qiushi asked, "what's wrong? Are you not feeling well?"

"Mh, I want to sleep," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Let's go back to the room first."

He rubbed his eyes, looking really quite tired.

“Alright. Did you not sleep well last night?"

They walked up to the second floor and returned to their room. Ruan Nanzhu sat down on the side of the bed, but didn't get in. His gaze fell on a chest by the wall.

Sitting behind him, Lin Qiushi paused.

"Zhu Meng?"

Ruan Nanzhu didn't answer.

"Zhu Meng?" Lin Qiushi came up to him and patted him on the shoulder, asking, "what's going on with you?"

Ruan Nanzhu's head whipped around, and he said, "…nothing."

A touch of hesitation surfaced between his brows, but in the end he still said, "nothing."

Liang Miye, "Zhu Meng, you didn't eat right? I'll go make some instant noodles for you."

She'd actually brought in instant noodles.

Liang Miye went to the kitchen to boil water. Lin Qiushi stayed seated beside Ruan Nanzhu, thinking Ruan Nanzhu wasn't feeling well. He put a hand to Ruan Nanzhu's forehead and confirmed Ruan Nanzhu wasn't running a temperature.

"Does it hurt anywhere?"

Ruan Nanzhu shook his head. He seemed a bit disconcerted by his own condition as well.

"I'm fine."

Lin Qiushi didn't reply. He followed Ruan Nanzhu's line of sight and saw the black wooden chest by the wall. It was still a normal chest, but judging by Ruan Nanzhu's gaze, one would think there was something of tremendous importance inside that chest.

An absurd thought appeared in Lin Qiushi's mind, and his expression went frozen. His voice, when he spoke, had become raspy: "Zhu Meng."

He took Ruan Nanzhu's face in his hands and pulled it by force to face him.

"Stop looking at that chest."

Ruan Nanzhu didn't answer. His expression didn't look right at all.

Lin Qiushi, "Zhu Meng?"

Ruan Nanzhu reached up and pressed his hand to Lin Qiushi's arm. Then, he pried Lin Qiushi's hand off him and turned back, gaze once again landing on that chest in the corner.

"I think there's an important item in that chest."

As soon as those words were out, Lin Qiushi knew he'd guessed correctly—the Hako Onna had used a power.

Open This. There must be something important in there. Maybe it's something that couldn kill the Hako Onna. As long as it's opened, they could leave here and return to reality. Ruan Nanzhu's eyes grew more and more determined. He slowly stood up from the bed.

"Nanzhu—" Lin Qiushi couldn't care for much else at this point, calling out Ruan Nanzhu's name directly. He grabbed Ruan Nanzhu around the waist. "Nanzhu, wake up!!"

Ruan Nanzhu didn't speak. He was very strong, easily pulling off the arm Lin Qiushi held him with and continuing toward the chest.

"Nanzhu—" A layer of cold sweat dotted Lin Qiushi's forehead. He used all his strength, but only managed to slightly slow Ruan Nanzhu's walking speed. "Nanzhu you gotta wake up, you can't open that chest!!"

He was roaring, trying to snap Ruan Nanzhu out of the illusion, but it was of no use. Ruan Nanzhu couldn't hear his voice at all, only continued forward step by step. He was already moments away from reaching the chest.

Because of Lin Qiushi's calls, Liang Miye had also come out of the kitchen. Seeing such a scene she yelled in fright, "Linlin, what's wrong!"

"Hako Onna's power!" Head soaked in sweat, Lin Qiushi was panting heavily. "Quick, come help me!"

Liang Miye also dashed over to help grab onto Ruan Nanzhu with Lin Qiushi.

But in the face of Ruan Nanzhu's immense strength, their attempts to stop him were like mayflies dashing themselves upon a tree. It was in this critical moment that an idea flashed in Lin Qiushi's mind. He yelled, "Liang Miye! Quick! Grab my backpack!"

Though she didn't know what for, Liang Miye still made a run for the backpack, dashing back to Lin Qiushi with it.

"Now what?!"

Lin Qiushi said, "hold onto Ruan Nanzhu!"

He took the backpack and swiftly began to dig through it—he didn't know if it would actually work or not, but this was the last hope of Ruan Nanzhu's survival!

[Ch. 109] | [Ch. 111]

[whydoyouwantmyname]

Imagine being Sirus’s daughter

-You were born in the year 1978, your mother was a muggle who Sirius met at a punk rock concert, and they had dated for a few months before deciding they were better off parting way as soon as he revealed he was a wizard.

-When she gave birth to you, Sirius hadn’t even known she was pregnant, and she didn’t tell him until you were 6 months old, when she went to his flat and frantically knocked on the door.

“Olivia, it’s six o’clock in the fucking morning, why are you...” and then he noticed the baby carrier

“She is one of you Sirius, she made...” her voice loud with frustration as she hushed it, “she made all of her toy fly at me when I told her it was nap time, she once cried and all the lights blew. Sirius I can not have this thing live in my house.”

“Clearly not if you are calling her a thing.” He snapped before snatching the carrier out of her hand, “I suggest you sell all her baby things, I don’t want her having a single reminder of you in her life.”

-He slammed the door in her face, and quickly placed you on the sofa, and just stared at you, for an hour. Internationally he was freaking out, he was 18, Fresh out of Hogwarts, and had zero idea how to parent a child. So he did the only thing that made rational sense, and picked up the phone.

“Hey mom, I have to tell ya something....yes I know it is early, but I just couldn’t wait to tell you....No, no I am not in jail again, however you might wanna sit down for this one..... you’re a grandma.”

-The phone was silent, and next thing he knew his fireplace lit up green, and out stepped Euphemia Potter, who was still dressed in her night gown, her eyes wide as she looked at her son’s best friend, and then noticed the small child asleep in her carrier. “She’s beautiful.”

“Mom I have zero idea how to even...”

“Trust me Padfoot,” the name slipped so comfortably out of her mouth as he looked at her with panic, “None of us do. We just do it, and pray that we don’t accidentally hex them.”

-That morning Euphemia spent teaching Sirius all about how to care for a baby, but quickly learned his new delima, “Do you have anything for her?”

“No, her mother just dropped her off this morning, I didn’t even know...”

“Did she tell you her name at least?”

“No.”

“Well, how about [Y/N]? That’s what I would have named James if he was a girl.”

“[Y/N] Euphemia Black, I like it.” He smiled, looking over at a surprised Euphemia, “What? I always hear that it was a muggle tradition to give your daughter’s your mother’s middle name.”

-After that she took you and Sirius out to a muggle baby store, and the grocery store, and bought you everything you could ever need. The whole time you were with the two, you never cried, you just stared at them with your [Y/C/E]’s and played with the small rattle Euphemia bought you. Once you returned to the flat, she flicked her wand and you watched in wonder in her arms as all the furniture started to assemble itself, while your father put all the baby food and bottles away. Soon he was putting the clothes she had bought you on the hangers, while Euphemia rocked you to sleep, your eyelids heavy as she looked down at your smooth face. Her trance was broken though by Sirius’s soft voice, “How do I know I wouldn’t turn out like her?”

“Because you would never allow yourself to. I know your mother was a vile woman, who had no regard for her children, but you Sirius Black, are the greatest thing she ever created. Besides you are an amazing friend to James, and I can only imagine you will treat this little girl as well as you do my son.” She stated before slowly raising and removing the maroon and gold sweater from his fingers, and hung it up for him. “Now, I am sure Lily is already at the house frantically worrying about this wedding that’s in a few days, so I will give this precious angel to her daddy, and call you tomorrow?”

“Of course, give them all my love.” Sirius smiled as she gently placed you into his arms, before looking to him, “You will do amazing things [Y/N], I just know it.”

-For the next week Sirius didn’t allow anyone into his flat, he just wanted to spend that time admiring your features, and learning how to be the fun dad. However after 7 days there was a pounding on his door, and behind it stood a tall, lean man, with shaggy brown hair, and glasses. In his arms were neatly wrapped boxes, and a stag plushie sat on the top.

“Really, you couldn’t have bought her a dog one after her father?” Sirius joked as James smiled, his voice filled with joy as he replied, “Never.”

-The moment you saw James, you immediately smiled, and crawled over to his feet as quickly as you could, your hands grasping at his pants as he sat the boxes down on the kitchen counter. “So you must be [Y/N]?” All he got as a reply was a giggle, and soon you were up in his arms.

-That afternoon you spent attached to James, and while him and Sirius talked, he would slowly dance around the flat with you, or throw you in the air, which also caused you to release a loud giggle. Sirius’s stress would rise quickly when he did, but once you were safely back in his hand, James would look at his friend and smile, “Don’t worry Pads, I won’t hurt our little princess.”

-Soon there was more knocking at the door, and behind it was Remus, and Peter. The man of the house quickly enveloped his friends into a hug, and opened the door wider to reveal James holding you upside down, as giggles filled the air. Quickly he lifted back to the vertical position and spun you around quickly, until you leaned into his shoulder. When he stopped Remus looked to Sirius, “Clearly we know who her favorite uncle is going to be.”

“Bullshit Mooney, she is going to love you all the same.” Sirius reassured as James stroked your back, “[Y/N], ready to meet your other uncles?”

-You immediately leaned out of James arms and right into Remus’s chest, your hands going to his face as you patted it quickly. However soon your fingers were tracing the light scars on the man’s face, your touches were delicate as you lightly brushed his warm skin. Remus tensed slightly under your touch, almost scared that you would cry within seconds, however you quickly placed your head onto his shoulder, and cuddled into him, causing Sirius to smile, “Told ya.”

-Peter was terrified to touch you, he preferred to just watch you interact with the others, and when you tried to climb up onto his lap, he stiffened. You immediately started to tear up, causing James to quickly scoop you up.

-That afternoon you napped on Remus’s shoulder.

-James and Remus both volunteered to change you, Peter was too timid to even try.

-Later that evening there was one last knock, James jumped up immediately and reached out to Sirius for you, a smile on his face as he said to you, “Alright [Y/N], now you are going to meet one of the most important woman in my life, but don’t worry, it doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

-When Lily saw you, her hands went to her face, as she silently freaked out, “Merlin, she is beautiful Padfoot.”

“Not as beautiful as her Auntie Lily.” James replied as you leaned forward and allowed Lily to hold you. She quickly cuddled you into her chest and smiled.

-As soon as Lily arrived you refused to leave her, not even James, who you were previously attached to could take you away from her, if they tried your eyes immediately watered.

-James pouted a bit about that, but Lily just chuckled and stated, “Don’t worry Love, I am sure she still loves you.”

-That night you fell asleep in Lily’s arms, and soon she was softly walking towards your nursery to put you to sleep. She smiled though at the sight of the stag plushie, and made a mental note to pick up one to represent the other boys.

-When she returned to the parlor, she smiled at the sight of the four young men, who were currently gushing over the small infant who was sleeping.

-That night when it was just James, Lily, and Sirius, he asked them if they would be your godparents. They agreed.

-The next day Lily arrived to the flat and handed Sirius a wolf, a rat, and a black dog plushie for you, and then she sat on his couch with a cup of tea, as they discussed life, your small body seated upon Sirius’s lap as you chug to your black dog plush.

-Whenever Lily saw a cute child’s outfit she would pick it up for you.

-Remus was famous for buying you books

-Peter often bought you random trinkets

-James always bought you toys.

-On full moons, Lily would babysit you, which you enjoyed, especially once you were older. She normally would play disney movies, and read to you 100 stories. She was always ready to play dress up, or paint with you.

-On nights where the order would met Euphemia and Fleamont would watch you, at their own estate. You enjoyed going to the Potter’s, and would crawl or toddle to each different room on the bottom floor. You also had a habit of falling asleep in the parlor with the pair, Fleamont normally was reading to you out of one of his many book, while Euphemia held you, her fingers tracing through your hair.

-Once they were done either meeting or fighting, Sirius, James, and Lily would drag themselves into the manor, and head to the parlor, where they would smile almost immediately at the sight of the small girl asleep on the couch.

-Sometimes when you would cry, Sirius would transform into the dog form, to which you would stop crying immediately and cuddle into the raven color, soft, fur.

-Your first word was Dadda, quickly followed by “Pong” which you would yell often at James.

-You knew all of your uncles by their Nick names, and sometimes they would find themselves calling each other the names you had assigned. James was Pong, Remus was Ooney, and Peter was Ermtail. You called Lily, Elily

-You were the flower girl in James and Lily’s wedding, they had you sit in a wagon, which was bewitched to move down the aisle, and once it stopped at the end, Sirius went to scoop you up, and held you beside James and Remus.

-When James turned to Sirius to get Lily’s wedding band, you were the one holding it out to him, with a smile he plucked the small golden band from your little hand and whispered, “Thank you darling.”

-At the reception each of the marauders danced with you, even Peter, however he only danced half the song with you, before passing you off to Lily. Remus walked up beside the timid man and clapped his shoulder, “Don’t worry Wormtail, you won’t break her.”

-Albus and Minerva were obsessed with you, each one taking time to hold you and shower you in attention. Minerva looked at Sirius at one point and whispered, “I can already tell this girl is going to be a handful, just like her father.”

“I hope so Professor.” He joked as she carefully handed you back.

-Lily and James both danced with you together, and some of your favorite pictures were taken that night, as James and Lily spun you around, or swayed together with you on your uncle’s hip.

-Your father and you were the last ones on the dance floor, his breath smelled slightly of fire whiskey, and your eyes were heavy, but that didn’t stop your father from holding you close to his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, as he softly swayed you.

-That night when you arrived back to the flat, he carefully placed you down onto the changing table and quietly changed you out of the dress you had surprisingly worn the whole day, and into a pair of Jammies that Euphemia had gotten you. As he placed you into the crib, he couldn’t help but notice how much you had changed in such a short time. He spent the rest of the night sitting in your room, watching you sleep as he pondered the thoughts of his current life.

-For your first birthday, they had a small gathering at Jame’s and Lily’s flat, Lily had spent the whole day before decorating and cooking, while James attempted to help. However as your Uncle Remus would later tell you once you were older, all your Uncle James did was eat the cupcakes Lily had been making, which resulted in her sending James to Sirius’s flat, where he sat with the Marauders, joking and drinking while you were left in Lily’s care. (Who had picked you up when she dropped of James)

-When you arrived your attention was stolen by all the decorations, which were all natural colored, but had a bit of sparkle to them. Your father however was taken by the food spread that Lily had made, “Goodness Lily, are you feeding an army?”

“Have you seen the way you four eat Pads? You basically are an army.” She sassed as she extended her arms towards you, “Besides, I will spare no expense for this little bundle of joy.”

-When Remus arrived you were on the floor with your father and James. However at the sight of Remus, you pushed yourself up from the floor, and wandered towards your uncle, however after three steps your balance caused you to fall, and look up towards Remus with tears in your eyes at the fact that you had failed. Sirius staring at you in wonder as Remus scooped you up.

-Those were your first steps.

-Lily had made you your own little, jam filled, smash cake, it was completely covered in green frosting and on the top of it sat a tree, which she had purchased completely made of chocolate. In different tones blue frosting she had made a small pond, and within the smears of blue she wrote upon it Happy Birthday Darling in red frosting. Meanwhile all the adults got to eat the cupcakes, which she had filled with raspberry jam. Sirius couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked towards James, “Your future children are going to be so spoiled.”

-Later that night when it was just James, Sirius and Lily, they told him Lily was pregnant, and that they were going to tell his parents the next day. They also revealed that they wanted to name Sirius The Godfather. “We figured we would return the favor.” James joked as he looked down towards your small frame, the brand new teddy bear tucked your your face as you sucked your thumb in your sleep.

-That night you and Sirius had a sleepover with the Potters, and when you awoke that morning James and Lily were already gone. This left Sirius to gather all of your presents and hurry home with them, after feeding you some eggs, and apple juice.

-That night while you sat on your father’s lap, there was a knock upon the door. Cautiously Sirius put you down in your crib and advanced towards the door, wand drawn. When he looked into the peephole he saw the back of his best friend, upon opening the door, he saw the red rimming of his eyes, clear evidence of his sorrow. Without saying a word to Sirius he just walked past him, and straight into the nursery, where you giggled with excitement to see your Uncle. His lips forced themselves into a smile as he leaned in and picked you up, his feet dragging as he flopped into the rocking chair and held you. Normally you would have been squirming, wanting nothing more than to play with him, but you knew he just needed your stillness.

-It took Lily an hour to call Sirius’s, “Is he there?”

“Yes, he has just been sitting with [Y/N], not saying a word...”

“He hasn’t told you?” Lily cut him off

“Told me what? Did something happen to the...”

“No, no baby Potter is fine. But Sirius... I am so sorry. Euphemia and Fleamont caught Dragon Pox’s. When we went to the house they weren’t there, the neighbors had said they saw an ambulance, so we rushed to Saint Mungo’s. By the time we arrived....” her voice slightly broke but that was all Sirius needed, “Mum’s dead, isn’t she?”

“Sirius, I am so sorry. Dad’s not doing well either, they estimate he has maybe a week.”

-With that the phone dropped, and his feet took him to his friend, fresh tears covered both their faces as he gently wrapped James in a hug. None of you moved for what felt like forever.

“Can I stay here tonight?” James finally whispered, his voice hoarse, as Sirius muttered, “Of course, as long as you like.”

-Fleamont passed away two days later.

-When James and Lily introduced you to Harry, you were obsessed. You wanted nothing more than to always be near the small bundle.

-The Marauders loved having two babies to spoil now. However Peter was still extremely timid around you both.

- There was only once where you were jealous of Harry, but that was just because James was holding him, and not paying attention to you lightly tapping his leg. You just sat down at his feet, and silently started tearing up, which Lily immediately noticed. This caused her to quickly advance towards James and removed Harry from his arms, James had a look of confusion, until he heard your small sniffle. Quickly he scooped you up, and apologized.

-You loved trying to help Lily with Harry. However sometimes you were too helpful, but Lily never scolded you, just corrected the behavior.

-There was one night where she was left to watch you and Harry while the order handled some affairs. You hadnt spent a night there since they had moved to Godric Hollow. She awoke to hear muffled whimpers from her son’s room, and quickly rose to collect her house coat and check on him. Upon passing your room she hadn’t noticed that your door was open, so when she opened Harry’s she was surprised to see that you had climbed into Harry’s crib, and were softly singing a nursery rhyme Euphemia had taught you to him. His eyes growing heavy as you looked towards Lily, “He was sad, now he’s better.”

“I’m sorry Love, did his crying wake you?” She whispered as she carefully lifted you out of the crib with the sleeping boy, as you gently nodded your head, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh there is nothing to be sorry about, I just wish I had the camera out to record that precious moment. How about next time though, you come get me?”

“Deal.” You smiled as she placed you back into the bed, and tucked you in.

-The next morning she told the others what you had done, and joked with Sirius, “You know she’s going to make a fine older sister someday.”

“My darling Lily, that would require me setting down, and that is not happening any time soon.” He teased back as you lifted your arms with pride, a clear plate infront of you as you giggled, “Done!”

“Splendid, now thank Auntie Lily for the pancakes, and say goodbye to everyone.” Sirius smiled as you did as instructed, and gave everyone, except Peter, a syrupy kiss on the cheek.

- the day after Sirius did missions for the order he normally wanted nothing more then to spend the day with you, in the flat. Normally you would both do arts and crafts, or he would watch what muggles called VHS tapes. You guys also spent the day eating snack foods, your favorite being Orange Maids, your father’s was chocolate.

-When Harry turned 1, you were excitingly running around the house, Harry crawling after you as the three adults sat on the couch, whispering amongst themselves. You had no idea how the conversation they were having would change your life forever.

-You once asked why Uncle Ooney never came to the flat anymore, to which your dad just told you Moony was sick. You had no idea that they ever suspected him of being a spy.

-The first time you saw Peter in the house at Godric Hollow you felt like something was off, and avoided him more than normal.

-It was two months later, you hadn’t known yet that this would be the last day you saw Auntie Lily, and Uncle Prong. Your father was extremely cautious to make sure you weren’t followed, and carefully snuck into the house. When you were placed onto the ground you took off running through the house, wanting so badly to show off your costume. The whole house was decorated, candles were lit everywhere, and streamers dangled from the living room ceiling. When you entered the kitchen however the counter was lined with food, and Harry sat in a high chair at the table, a tired James sitting beside him, as Lily stood at the stove.

“Uncle Prong, look at my costume!” You instructed, as he looked away from the Cheerios that littered the tray, and smiled at your outfit.

“Wow, we’re identical.” He gasped as you raced over and gave him a hug, Sirius stood in the doorway as Lily looked at the two of you, turning her head slightly she whispered, “Was this her idea, or yours?”

“She told me she wanted to go as Uncle Prong, figured it won’t be too hard to pull off.”

-That night you all stayed in, Lily was playing a muggle show on the tele, while you all sat on the couch eating candy. As your eyes grew heavy, Sirius looked down toward you, and whispered to his friends, “We best be on our way.”

“Oh come now, you only just arrived 5 hours ago, why don’t you two spend the night and in the morning...”

“I would love too, but I unfortunately have to get this little one home, would hate to have her dressed like your ugly mug two days in a row.” Sirius joked as James pretended to be offended.

-You sleepily gave both James and Lily a hug, unfortunately Harry was already asleep in his room so you were unable to say goodbye to the small baby that had been dressed up as a Lion that year.

“I love you.” You softly whispered to them during both of their hugs, they tightened their grip in response and replied back.

James: I love you to the moon and back my dear.

Lily: I love you too my little Prong.

-As soon as you got home, you fell asleep in your costume, Sirius didn’t have the heart to wake you up to change so he just closed your door and let you be

-when you awoke, it was to your father’s screams, and the slamming of the door. When you crawled out of bed, you saw the man your father called Albus, standing in your living room. He lowered his head, and sank to the floor, his eyes watery with tears as his soft weeps overtook him. They only paused however when he felt your soft touch. It was then Dumbledore looked to you, and whispered, “Do you want to go see your Uncle Remus?”

-When Dumbledore arrived to the cottage in the woods Remus had, he softly knocked. Your small frame in his arms, as Remus opened the door. “Remus.” His voice was soft, “The worst has happened.”

-When Dumbledore left, Remus was sitting on the couch, his eyes glassy as he looked towards you, the child of a man he had been convinced to be a traitor. But he knew Sirius, he knew Sirius would never betray his friends, yet.... here you were, no one had any idea where your father was, or how Voldemort died. But he did know one thing, he needed to take care of you while Sirius was away.

-Two days later you saw your father again.... on the front of the Daily Prophet, you would learn later in life he had went away for murdering Peter Pettigrew, the man who really betrayed his friends. But no one would ever know.

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

[yourwildsimp]

can i get 33 and 42 sorry if your request isn’t open anymore^ - ^

33. "What's wrong?" 42. "Would you just hold still?"

includes: levi, y/n

warnings: levi insults you (but he doesn't honestly mean it), probably inaccurate injury treatment (I am not a doctor-)

length: 3,110 words

summary: No one else seemed to notice; not his squad, not Hange, not even the Commander. But you did. You saw the way he avoided putting pressure on his ankle, the way his habits were quick to change. You weren't going to let the man torture himself any longer, come loose-spoken slanders or half-hearted struggles. And who knows? You might discover very interesting details about your elusive Captian.

A/N: I had a few ideas on where to take this, so I hope you like the one I chose. And yes! My requests are very much open! You can make your own request here for angst and here for fluff.

It had started with small hints, ones you hardly picked up on.

Levi had begun to clean the horse stables rather than train with his ODM gear. Even though you were concerned, you figured Humanity's Strongest Soldier wasn't exactly lacking in vertical maneuvering skill. Besides, everyone knew of the fondness Levi had for his horse.

But then he started leaving the mess hall last, too. He made sure every person was gone before slipping into a side hallway. It didn't matter if he was done eating before everyone else, or if he was even eating at all. You forced yourself to believe it was to reprimand whoever left the largest mess.

Yet the brightest red flag was when he stopped his nightly surveillance walks around the perimeter. Or so, that's what he called them.

On any other given night, Levi could be found circling the grounds. His head would be tilted up to view the starry sky, accentuating his sharp jawline. He'd tense and still at every nightly sound, mentally determining if there was a threat of any kind. (Not that you were watching him often enough to know every fine detail, of course.) You even once saw him startle when a bird suddenly flew from a nearby bush. It never happened again, but you had found it adorable.

So knowing that Levi was locked away in the library when he should be marveling at the full moon? It bothered you. A lot. Which is the exact reason you mustered up every bit of your courage to walk into the same room as him.

Cold eyes snapped up to the now opened door, and something foreign clouded his features. He looked back towards his book before you could decipher what the expression on his face was.

The air surrounding him felt stressed. Anxious, even.

You, stubborn as ever, pressed on into the small room, stalking right over to where he sat. Levi simply scoffed, closing his book and placing it face down.

"What do you want, Cadet?" he tsked, cutting features nearly intimidating you enough to leave.

"Captain, with all due respect, I want to know what's wrong."

His eyes narrowed, and you saw something from under the table move. You just now realized that his leg was previously resting on the flat part of another chair.

"Excuse me?" Levi held a dangerous tone. He wanted to scare you away, frighten you enough to stop questioning him. He was almost successful.

You took a deep breath, eyes drifting towards the book he was reading. Levi was quick to shield the description with his hand and forearm.

"You haven't been yourself recently," you started. Your gaze slowly navigated back to Levi's face, only to find a scowl tainting his lips.

"You don't know enough about me to understand-"

"You've stopped your hand-to-hand combat training, your gear training, and you've even stopped sitting in the treetops." He didn't like how you'd cut him off, but you weren't finished. "You don't leave the mess hall quickly anymore. You're now almost always the first one there, which is strange because you usually bring your food all the way to your office. You've even stopped your nightly walks, and you love those."

Your little rant left him closing his mouth from a forgotten attempt to speak. After a moment of collecting his thoughts, he simply said, "I don't go on walks. I make sure there are no outside threats because everyone else is too busy fiddling with the sticks up their asses to do it themselves."

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from giggling at his wording or mentioning the bird. You wanted to keep that incident to yourself.

"And I don't appreciate you stalking me," Levi added, his hand clenching and unclenching. You chose to ignore the false accusation to return your focus on the book. And you watched as Levi forced his hand to relax.

"What are you reading?"

"None of your damn business." The answer came as soon as the question left your lips.

The defiance in your eyes made him tilt his head to the side as you tenaciously pulled out a chair to sit down.

"I don't remember asking you to join me," Levi sneered, though oddly, it lacked his usual bite.

"I don't remember you giving my questions a proper answer," you said matter-of-factly.

The flicker of shock in his eyes was well worth the mini-heart attack you suffered right after the words left your lips. You also chose to believe you imagined the ghost of a smirk on his mouth.

You pressed on before he could talk you into leaving, "I want to know what you're reading, at the very least."

Levi leaned back in his chair, the book's description still covered. "I'm not required to tell you anything. This isn't an interrogation, Cadet."

"Would you answer my questions even if it was?" you scoffed, settling your hands down in your lap.

Levi gave a puff of air through his nose that could almost pass for a chuckle. "No, I wouldn't. You're as intimidating as a fly."

You grit your teeth together, balling your hands up. "Well, maybe I'm not trying to be intimidating! Maybe, just maybe, I'm simply concerned for you. Maybe you're scaring me because you love the moon and have stopped seeing it!" You weren't yelling, but you weren't exactly whispering either. "Maybe I just want to help someone I care about."

Levi held his breath and glanced away towards the open window before swallowing thickly. "That's a lot of 'maybes'," he murmured.

Nothing else was said. You worried about what he'd do because you backtalked him, but you were foolish enough not to care. Though, Levi now seemed absorbed in whatever was outside, fingertips tracing over the back of the book.

After another stressful heartbeat, he pushed the book in front of you, not saying a word. You blinked widened eyes at him and glanced at the book before looking back at him. Sure, you came here to help, but you really didn't expect him to let you.

"Thank you, Captain," you breathed, picking up the book and flipping it over.

Fixing Your Foot & Ankle Pain.

Levi could've laughed at the look on your face, and he watched you read over the title once more. "Great, can I have my book back now, officer?" he asked, dangerously close to sounding smug.

"Not yet." You ignored the sigh he gave. "Why didn't you just let me see it before? Is something wrong with your foot?"

He chewed the inside of his lip before offering a simple answer, "no."

"Then let me see."

"What?"

"I said let me see your foot, Captain. If you are hurt, then I can't have you pushing yourself. You'll make it worse," you said pointedly, pushing the book across the table from you.

"'I can't?'" he quoted. "Don't you mean the 'Corps can't'?"

You didn't answer him in favor of standing up and moving to the foot that was once resting on another chair.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he warned, stiffly moving his leg away from you.

"I'm just checking. It shouldn't be an issue because you're fine, right?"

Levi clenched his jaw, cracking a couple of his knuckles. He didn't pull away from you, nor did he hit you, which is a huge plus.

That is until you tried to get his boot off.

"Oi, don't take it off-"

"Then how am I supposed to look at it? I don't have X-Ray vision," you snapped, waiting for him to settle before you started taking it off again.

"This is stupid," he grumbled, looking up at the ceiling with his arms crossed.

"Yeah, it is stupid that I had to track you down to help you," you bitterly argued, neatly placing his boot aside. You then carefully rolled up his pants leg and took off his sock. Your eyes widened as you stared at how swollen Levi's ankle was. "Levi- are you serious? This is terrible!"

His withering scowl burned down at you, eyes narrowed and deadly at the use of his first name. You didn't seem to notice what you had called him, too worried over his ankle.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth when I had asked?" You didn't even know where to begin with this man.

"I did. My foot is fine."

"Fine? Your ankle is more inflated than the capital mens' egos, sir."

Your joke defanged the bite in his eyes but, despite how funny Levi found it, his only reaction was a huff. "Yeah, my ankle is puffed up. Not my foot, genius."

You glared at him coldly before you stood up, placing your hands on your hips. "Alright," you started, "stay here while I go get the splint and some ice."

"I don't need it."

"You have a second-degree sprain, Captain. You should've iced it as soon as you could. But you didn't. So, now I'm going to take care of you since you can't be bothered to care for yourself," you scolded.

Well then. Excuse me, Levi sarcastically thought, watching you leave after another demand for him not to go anywhere.

While you were gone, he decided to ignore your orders and put the book away. He swallowed a grunt when he sat down again, glancing at the door in case you were there.

As the minutes ticked by, he huffed like an impatient child, his nails scratching and toying with the wood of the table. When you had finally came back, he halfheartedly greeted you with a groan.

"You took too long. Did you take a shit?" Levi grumbled bluntly, leaning his head back as he looked at you.

He nearly grinned as the items you took your precious time to grab poured out of your arms just before you answered. You picked up a few rogue bandages, and Levi glanced away when you looked up.

"If clumsiness was a currency, you'd be as rich as the king," Levi scoffed.

"And if being secretive little gnome was a job, you'd be the CEO of the company," you fired back as you placed the medical things on the table. He tsked, muttering something you didn't quite understand before sitting up in his seat.

"I thought all you needed was some ice and a splint. Why the hell did you grab an entire hospital's supply?"

"Well, Captain, who knows what else you didn't tell anyone about. For all I know, you have fractured ribs, too. Maybe a few fresh gashes that you hardly cleaned up." You gave him such a persistent look that he couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he huffed, carefully tracking you as you rounded the table to tend his ankle.

"That's another thing I've noticed! You don't sleep, and when you do, it's not even in your-" you cut yourself off. The look that crossed your face reminded Levi of the expression Erwin has whenever a cadet asks something stupid. "Where's the book?'

"Why? Can't help me without it?" he challenged.

"It's not that, it's just..." You trailed off, not saying anything for a second or two. "Did you put it up? I specifically told you not to move."

"And I specifically ignored you," he shot back, watching your nose flare when you huffed.

"You know what? Fine. Just be quiet and give me your ankle." Levi was caught off guard by the growl in your voice.

He scowled but didn't speak a word as you started treating his ankle.

It was quiet. Despite the untouched hostility in the air, it was almost peaceful. Until Levi ruined it. Again.

"How do you know I don't sleep in my bed? Are you smelling my blankets while I'm out of them?"

Your shoulders sagged with how heavy your sigh was.

"No, I don't sneak into the guys' sleeping quarters to roll in your sheets, Captain." The thought would be nice to indulge on later, though. "I just know that you often fall asleep at your desk. That's bad for your bones structure, sir. You'll cramp more often, disfigure your stature, develop an asymmetric-"

"And you, Cadet? How's your sleep cycle, huh?" he cut you off, seeing the newfound tightness in your jaw. "Scolding me while you're struggling to stay conscious at the eating tables. Seems real hypocritical, doesn't it?"

You didn't respond. You couldn't; he was right. The bastard typically was.

"I'm done treating your ankle," you began softly, each of your fingers messaging your palms. "You have to stay off of it, sir. If you keep pushing yourself, you'll end up not being able to walk."

There was a pause in the air, your breath hanging like abandoned ODM gear. Levi picked up on the temporarily unspoken words, so he tapped his middle finger on the table and waited.

"As strange as this sounds..."

That's not a good way to start a sentence, Levi thought.

"I need you to take off your shirt. Sir."

Levi dismissed what you have just boldly said to his face with a light scoff. After your silence lingered for a beat too long, Levi shifted his jaw. "You're serious?"

"I just need to check your upper body for damage," you added gently.

Levi tsked, "I don't fucking see why."

Before you could argue any further, he was already tugging off the long-sleeved grey shirt. You cleared your throat and glanced at the surrounding bookshelves, suddenly absorbed with the task of finding the book Levi had put away.

With a thick swallow, you looked back at him, avoiding his eyes like a plague. He watched your brows furrow as you looked closer.

"What's this from?" you asked, letting your thumb trace underneath a fresh slice in between his ribs. He jerked away from you with a snarl, and you glared at him.

"A branch from the last mission caught me," he grumbled, eyeing your hand that was now hovering over his skin.

"Let me guess, you didn't say anything to anyone?"

"Look at you using that empty head of yours."

You rubbed the bridge of your nose with your offhand before grabbing everything you needed; cleansing alcohol, tweezers, a cotton ball, and smaller bandages. For whatever reason, Levi was more defensive about you tending to his ribs than his ankle.

"Oi, I'm fine. You've done plenty, now get lost," he sneered, fingers twitching as you held the cotton ball with the tweezers and soaked it in alcohol.

"Captin, let me just do this and you can move on to stargazing, okay?" you asked halfheartedly. You didn't get a response other than vulgarities.

You started cleaning his previously hidden injury. Well, trying to, at the very least.

"Would you just hold still?" you snapped. He kept jerking and twisting away for your healing hands. "This is taking longer than it should because of you."

You pressed under the wound and in between his ribs to test how tender it was. Levi made a noise so out of place that both of you had paused.

Did he just..?

You looked up at him, holding your breath. He wouldn't look at you, eyes burning holes into the library door.

"Sir, are you-"

"No."

You were probably out of line for doing so, but you pressed around his ribs again in hopes of proving your suspicions. And it turns out you were right.

Levi strangled out a laugh that was clearly meant to be held in. It sounded like heaven on earth. Deep and smooth as butter as you continued to torture his ribs. A smile slowly blossomed on your face.

It didn't last long, Levi swatting your hands away so he could catch his breath, now defending the spot with his life.

"You damned brat," he panted, eyeing you from the corner of his eye.

"I didn't think you could be ticklish," you grinned wickedly as you grabbed the bandages. "That is... Incredible," you snickered to yourself, unwrapping the length that you needed. You tapped his wrist that was blocking his ribs with your middle and index finger, looking at him expectantly.

"If you even try to do that again, I will wrap those bandages around your throat," he threatened. It didn't really sound like he'd carry it out, but you weren't about to test your luck.

You watched as his entire torso tensed, and you as gently as possible wrapped up his cut. Levi relaxed only when you sat back on your heels and began to put everything away.

It was quiet once again, and you felt Levi watch you as you cleaned up your mess. Only once everything was scooped into your arms, you stepped away from him.

Hesitation hung in the air as you both thought of what you should say. You cleared your throat with a grin before walking towards the bookshelves. "Want any reading material while we wait, Captain?" you asked, looking for your own book.

"Wait for what?" he asked skeptically.

"Until the time comes for me to change your bandages," you hummed. You were too busy reading the back of the book you'd picked up for yourself to see how Levi shook his head.

"Fucking hell," he sighed, getting comfortable as he looked out the window. "I don't need a book, Cadet. Sit down already."

You stopped, blinking to yourself as you replayed what he just said in your head. He just invited you to join him. You smiled at the thought, grabbing a book that caught your attention. You practically floated to the seat across from Levi and made yourself at home.

You two stayed like this for a while- Levi being enthralled with the moon, and you caught up in your book. You were too busy reading to notice how he'd look at you now and then.

The time to change his bandages came and went without either of you moving. It was almost, dare you to say, domestic. It wasn't until Levi heard small snores that he carefully stood up.

He looked down at your sleeping face, something uncomfortably sweet bubbling in his chest before he fixed your hair. He stared at you for a minute, just watching the way your chest rose and fell as you breathed.

"Damned brat," he mumbled quietly. Nimble fingers gently peeled the book from you, and he limped as he put it where you got it from. Levi sighed softly, glancing longingly at the window sill. He internally debated on a few things before returning to the table.

Though this time, he sat next to your sleeping frame.

[traincat]

I feel like I've read a ton, but I'm honestly still pretty new to comics rn. That being said... What is one more day? Ik we don't like it and it happened a while ago, but that's about it [,=

Time for Spider-Man History With Traincat: Highly Controversial Storylines! And that feeling is totally normal with comics with huge canons -- you can read a ton and still have some fairly big blindspots in your understanding of the total picture. That being said, this is kind of a big one, both in terms of Spider-Man history/canon and in terms of how Spider-Man fandom functions. I would say probably no other storyline has had quite as much impact on how the fandom views and interacts with the source material as One More Day/Brand New Day. It's been the Wild West out here ever since it happened. (Which was in 2007, so like, yes, fairly long ago, especially when you look at how Spider-Man canon has evolved since, but in the grand scheme of things, also kind of recent. One More Day is not old enough to rent a car.)

So when people talk about Spider-Man's One More Day, they're usually actually talking about two related arcs: One More Day and Brand New Day. For the sake of simplicity, I'm going to be covering both. For the sake of transparency, I am going to admit that I think One More Day, as a self-contained story, is good, actually. This is controversial! I admit that! But I stand by my stupid opinions on this blog, for some reason. I think One More Day when you examine it on its own, by which I mean you ignore the decade and a half worth of canon that came after it, as a Spider-Man story and as a PeterMJ-centric story holds up under scrutiny and that people who don't like it don't like complicated love stories and might actually throw their own mothers under buses. No offense to the OMD haters. Little bit of offense to the OMD haters. Brand New Day, which is the continuation of One More Day, on the other hand -- largely bad. Very largely bad.

But let's backtrack. One More Day is a four issue crossover storyline that takes place directly after Civil War, during which Iron Man and Captain America got divorced and divvied up the superhero community and Spider-Man made some startlingly bad decisions and made a fugitive out of himself and his family in a manner that got Aunt May shot, and Spider-Man: Back in Black (Amazing Spider-Man #539–543) which examines Peter's actions immediately after Aunt May is shot and ends with him humiliating the Kingpin in front of an entire prison. One More Day consists of Amazing Spider-Man #544 -> Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #24 -> Sensational Spider-Man v2 #41 -> Amazing Spider-Man #545. In One More Day, Aunt May is dying, all of Peter's efforts to save her have thus far failed, and, consumed by guilt, he is rapidly running out of time. Approached by Mephisto, a literal demon from hell, Peter is offered a deal: Aunt May will live -- and Peter's identity, which was previously revealed to the world at large during Civil War, will once again be hidden from the memories of all but a select few -- if Peter trades him his marriage to Mary Jane. Peter and Mary Jane struggle with this, but eventually both agree to the deal. The clock strikes twelve, the deal is done, and Peter and Mary Jane's marriage fades into history.

(ASM #545) A reasonably simple premise for a story that caused so many problems -- most, I would argue, not actually the original story's fault. So obviously, this was an unpopular move -- Peter and Mary Jane had for a long time been a fan favorite Marvel couple, and in a fictional universe where most relationships are doomed as soon as they begin, the enduring Spider-Marriage was sacred ground. And then, with a snap of its fingers, it was gone: Peter wakes up in Aunt May's house, no longer married, with Mary Jane out of the picture. (She would not return to the book on any sort of consistent basis for over 50 issues.) In the wake of One More Day began Brand New Day, which is basically what it sounds like: a promised "brand new day" of "exciting" Spider-Man content and a publishing schedule where Amazing Spider-Man came out three times a month. (Which sounds good on paper but I think in practice caused more problems than it created good storylines.) Peter, newly single again, had new love interests! And also Harry Osborn was alive again for some reason! I generally like Harry's post-BND stories so that part's fine with me.

But overall? Brand New Day is a mess. It knows it wants to tread new and exciting ground with Peter -- tell new stories! ensnare new readers! make them fork out for a book three times a month. -- but it doesn't know what those stories should be. Readers who were invested in Peter and Mary Jane's relationship -- a major facet of Spider-Man comics for decades at that point -- felt rightfully betrayed that the marriage could be so easily traded in and that Mary Jane herself, perhaps the second most important figure in Spider-Man comics after Peter, could be tossed aside. From a personal point of view, I think Brand New Day fails in large part because it abandons what has always made Spider-Man such a compelling series, and that's the mix of Peter's personal life with his vigilante life. BND sees Peter with new friends, new jobs, new love interests, etc -- it is very much a brand new day! But it isn't a better day compared to the stories that came before it. I do like some post-BND stories, especially American Son (ASM #595-599) and Grim Hunt (ASM #634-637), but compared to pre-BND where I think the majority of canon is good, it's a very lacking body of work that is hurt by the way it divorced itself from the PeterMJ marriage as Spider-Man's central relationship.

"But Traincat, I thought you said you liked One More Day?" Yeaaaaah. I do. This is why I keep saying I like One More Day on its own merits, and not on the merits of the stories it opened the doors for. I like a good romantic tragedy in fiction, and the way Peter and Mary Jane's final scene in One More Day plays out is beautiful. I like the idea of Peter caught in this impossible situation, being asked to choose between two women he loves more than his own life. A really common criticism I see leveled against One More Day is that Peter should have chosen his relationship with Mary Jane over May's life, which is -- okay, I think it's weird that people keep insisting on this, not in the least because by asking Peter to sacrifice his aunt's life they're essentially demanding he commit a callous, out of character act in order to further his own interests. It's also weird because the thing is, Peter already chose Mary Jane over May -- that's what gets them into this situation. It's literally in the scene where May is shot:

(ASM #538) When the gun goes off, Peter's spider-sense kicks in, and he covers Mary Jane, leaving May in the path of the bullet. He does choose Mary Jane over May, regardless of whether he realized what he was doing. And that's why he can't make that choice a second time. His actions in One More Day do make sense for him as a character, whether or not any individual reader likes them, and Mary Jane's actions make sense, too -- after all, she's the one who ultimately tells Mephisto that they agree to the deal when Peter can't bring himself to voice it.

A lot of people also like to nitpick One More Day by going, well, why could (x) or (y) with life saving powers save Aunt May which is like -- yeah, I guess, but if we're going to ask that about this specific comic book near death setup, you kind of have to do it with every single one, and I'm not going to stake every single moment of comic book drama on whether or not that gold kid from the X-Men was busy at the time. Comics are soap operas in flimsy paper form: serialized longform storytelling that relies heavily on melodrama. Sometimes you have to go with things. Sometimes you sell your marriage to the devil. Stuff happens. That in and of itself doesn't make One More Day a bad story -- and while some people blame the Spider-Marriage's dissolution entirely on One More Day, I think that's a little shortsighted when you look at the history of Spider-Man since the turn of the century. It's clear -- and Marvel themselves have been perhaps a little too open about this -- that Marvel in the past few decades has had trouble with the direction they want to take Spider-Man. They WANTED Spider-Man to appeal to a distinctly youthful audience that they didn't think they were actually reaching -- understandable, considering that Marvel nearly went bankrupt around 2000 and was saved by Ultimate Spider-Man, an out of main continuity series which retold Spider-Man from the beginning and focused heavily on Peter as a teen -- but the problem was Spider-Man in the main continuity was at that point in canon a happily married man who was pushing the dreaded 30 whether or not they wanted to admit that. This is also why Marvel has continually pivoted away from Spider-Man having kids, because they feared that making him a dad would age him too much and make him unrelatable to their coveted audience of Teens. (This is also why almost every new Spider-Man property, especially the live action movies, perpetually stick him back into high school, despite that occupying a very small slice of 616 canon.) So around the year 2000, they started trying things in relation to the Spider-Marriage, which was viewed as a major problem -- after all, what's more adult than being married and liking your wife. First, they had Mary Jane presumed dead. Then, they had Mary Jane and Peter separate. Then, when Mary Jane and Peter had only recently gotten back together, One More Day struck. If One More Day specifically hadn't gone the way it had, it's pretty clear that the Spider-Marriage was going to go one way or another -- it's a little bit of a shame it happened when it did, because OMD is the end of J Michael Straczynski's run, and JMS wrote a really beautiful Peter and MJ relationship. But Marvel as a company and especially editor in chief at the time Joe Quesada viewed Peter and Mary Jane's relationship as a major problem in how they wanted to portray Spider-Man and thought that striking the relationship from the books would allow them more freedom in their portrayal of him as younger and more relatable to their Desired Audience of people who I guess really wanted to see Peter sleep with characters who weren't Mary Jane.

(ASM #546. Younger! Fresher! Less attached! Kissing random women in the club!)

The problem with One More Day has always been in the follow through -- from the content of Brand New Day to the pacing of events to the fact that Marvel withheld key information for such a long time that it allowed misinformation to thrive. After all, what does it MEAN to trade Peter and Mary Jane's marriage to the devil? It altered the events of canon in Peter and the majority of other characters' memories so that the marriage didn't exist, but it left people wondering -- did the relationship as they remembered it existed? How much of Spider-Man canon was altered? And the answers didn't come for over 100 issues of Amazing Spider-Man. One Moment In Time or OMIT (Amazing Spider-Man #638-641), which revealed that while Peter and Mary Jane never got married in the altered canon they did continue their long committed relationship up until just after Civil War, was published in 2010, so essentially readers were hung out to dry without answers for three years. That's a long time to string people along, but not as long as it took Marvel to confirm that the popular fan theory that Mary Jane retained her memories of the original timeline as part of her own deal with Mephisto was also true, which happened this year. I would say, at least from my perspective, a lot of the frustration doesn't come from the individual One More Day storyline so much as how Marvel has continually dragged out the aftermath, using the promise of a Spider-Marriage return to keep fans on the hook. Which is why One More Day continually comes up in discussion of current Spider-Man, because Spencer's run has relied very heavily on imagery from that period with a serious question of whether or not there actually was going to be payoff, something which is still up in the air.

This has been Spider-Man History With Traincat, brought to you by anonymice like you.

[iaintyourbro]

The Unknown Journey Continues

Part 1

I know it's been a while... but I've been going down a rabbit hole with @starlight-samurai regarding time loops, Jenova, Minerva, and more fun. So I figured I'd try to put it into one post to get the insanity out of my head. Everything in here is based on things we've found by either going through more obscure Ultimanias, learning more about Dirge of Cerberus and trying to decipher what the hell Jenova is by putting together various sources - including other Square Enix games - and how they handled freakishly similar scenarios.

Did you know there is a companion mobile game for it that was out on the good old flip phones? Did you know there was an online mode in Dirge of Cerberus only available in Japan, but had story elements that were not in the main game?

The sad part is, there's still so much to go through...

(I've also had various discussions with @ourfinalheaven, Manu, who doesn't have Tumblr, so here is her Twitter. and Somebody's Nightmare (here is her Twitter). So I wanted to tag them here, as it's much more fun to discuss these ideas as a group, since it'll only help you build on and strengthen your own ideas.)

Please be aware, there will be Spoilers for FFVII - Almost all Compilation titles, Xenogears, and NieR Automata throughout this.

So let's go on a journey where we explore what actually already exists in the compilation - including the idea of the whispers and timeloops - how Minerva may play into everything, and what exactly Jenova is capable of doing.

I asked Sesi if he'd ever played any of the NieR games, because he'd said something that made me wonder if they were going to take a similar approach. As a very, very quick high level summary: NieR Automata deals with a time loop type of idea. The androids will be rebooted and repeat the same things over and over again. This is broken when 2B is killed by A2 because she becomes infected with a virus. That being said, you have the option after Ending E to either erase all of your data and end the cycle OR you can try again. The Pods have a discussion, and one asks, "But won't they just do the same thing again?" and the other replies with "Maybe. But it could also be different this time."

Here's Sesi's message back to me when I asked him about this (cleaned up a bit since we were having a casual conversation over Discord):

Maybe I could just guess based comparatively on the Dirge storyline, because that was sort of SE's first flirtation with “robots and androids” since they’re all programmed and locked behind like task managers and shit that can shut them down. The story of the online mode for DoC that came out in Japan, we never got to see it, you’re basically an Android OC and you have to get to “the end of the level” and then essentially die, and a new one takes its place. This keeps happening until Weiss is essentially freed from being able to be task managed by the guys who are suppose to be able to control them and I know from tons of years with Square games that they’re verrrrry bad at differentiating their narratives they tend to just keep “ripping themselves off” so is it anything close to that?

Cuz if so I think I kinda know what you’re saying and yeah, I agree, I think with CC bringing in its poetic symbolism and LOVELESS, and DoC bringing back the cyclic nature of the lore, whispers, premonitions and future visions, proto-Materia and the perversion of this next cycle since the planet can no longer cleanse and protect itself and its will is weakening lesser and lesser to the point where it’s fate is “in a true sense of jeopardy This time essentially it’s all tied in together and sort of played as though it's a fated track; a cycle of events and something has hitched it, thus the whispers manifesting and Sephiroth's higher implied control over his destiny. Of course, even all that is just their new red herring game, but it’s definitely a part of the lore they want to play with, in order to go back and reMAKE the OG with the comp inserted from inception. Also gut punch a lot.

Time Loops

I was somewhat surprised to find out that this concept is NOT new to FFVII's universe. It's discussed in Dirge of Cerberus... probably one of the least played and least understood of the compilation. (Trying to sell a third person shooter with terrible controls to a market of mostly people used to turn-based combat wasn't going to go well.)

On top of it, we didn't even get all of it, since online mode was never released outside of Japan, and the Dirge of Cerberus Lost Episode was on Amp'd Mobile and Verizon flip phones back in 2006. Were you around for the cell phones in 2006? I had the ones on the list, and how somebody could play a game on those blows my mind.

Square has a tendency to reuse themes from their other titles. Probably one of the most blatant is the similarities between Xenogears and Final Fantasy VII. They were both being developed at the same time and a lot of ideas that didn't make it into FFVII ended up in Xenogears.

NieR

So how does this work? In NieR (both Replicant and Automata), you play the same path multiple times. Each time, it's slightly different depending on what side quests you did your first and second playthrough, but there's also other subtle differences throughout the story. In Automata, you get to play as 2B your first playthrough and 9S for your second. They follow the same path, but you get it from his perspective the second time and it reveals a bit more of what is going on. However, even with some slight differences, the main plot points stay the same and the ending result it also the same.

Then on your third playthrough, you wake up in the Bunker, and you're getting ready to go on a new mission. This time, though, 2B is killed and shit hits the fan. Things get crazy, you play as a new character: A2. In the end, pretty much everyone "dies", but you can choose to "reboot" and try again. You also can say you are done and let them all rest and delete your save data (the game gives you the option for both Automata and Replicant, and with Replicant, it actually leads to a new ending).

The striking thing for me is... There are certain events that will always happen, no matter what.

Fixed Points in Time

It's been years since I've watched Doctor Who, but there was something that stuck with me, and that was the fixed points in time. You can read about all of them here, but here's the basics:

Now, of course Doctor Who goes into this with much more detail and it's a recurring theme. However, as you read through that page, you'll probably find many aspects that have been used in various JRPGs that you've played. And Doctor Who most likely pulled some of the idea from classic Science Fiction novels. Each story puts its own spin on it.

How does this relate to FFVII Remake? Well, when they say that the major plot points will stay the same, it reminds me of this. No matter what, Cloud must fall into the Sector 5 Church, the Sector 7 Plate must be dropped, Aerith and Zack both must die, and Meteor has to be summoned, to name a few. So, with a time loop, those things would still have to take place in order to prevent a complete collapse of reality (at least in how Doctor Who uses it).

Therefore, the Whispers are ensuring that the Will of the Planet is followed.

One of the major themes in FFVII is that of loss. People die and they do not come back. Yes, other FF games do allow this to happen (FFX, FFXIII, FFXV), but VII is not those games. It was written with that idea in mind, that once a person dies, they, just like in real life, are dead and cannot be brought back.

I've previously written that I think they'll make us believe we are able to change fate, but we will eventually be slammed with the reality that we can't. That is because the planet has determined that certain events are fixed points.

Xenogears

Xenogears takes a bit of a different approach to the loop idea. Instead of repeating the same time period over and over, it has the characters reincarnated, and the same outcome happens each time: Elly dies. However, each time it's different. After all, they're in various time periods, in some cases thousands of years apart.

In all of the lives of Fei (who will have a different name in each time period) and Elly (who is always Elly/Elhaym), Elly will end up dying trying to protect Fei and the others. In one life, she is a religious figure at a totally not Catholic church, in another she's the wife of a scientist who was working to create children from nanomachines due to mass infertility issues. But she is ALWAYS with Fei, even if his name changes.

In her Mother Elhaym time, this is when Lacan (Fei) finally snaps. Though he's not fully aware of his past lives, he becomes aware, the anger consumes him, and he becomes Grahf. Fei is then reborn into the time period you play the game in.

There's a lot to unpack with this, so I won't go into it. Grahf wants to destroy God (Deus) because he thinks if he does, then it'll stop the suffering (his suffering).

If you do want to read more about Grahf, you can do so here, but it probably won't make much sense unless you've played Xenogears up to that point... Since it's much later in the game that this is all explained.

Lacan's desire was to stop the cycle of Elly always sacrificing herself for his sake. Though Grahf is not a perfect existence - he's not fully "The Contact", he sacrifices himself in order to let Fei move forward, and hopefully stop the cycle, by destroying the Deus system. (Elly also tries to sacrifice herself here, but Fei goes after her and stops her.)

Now, some people may think I'm saying that Cloud or somebody is going to do this in order to save Aerith or Zack (or his village or mom), but in FFVII if they do the loop method, I don't think Cloud, Tifa, Barret, and the others are aware of it. Most likely, it's only 'Sephiroth' and Aerith who are aware of it.

How this Could Be used for Final Fantasy VII

I'm stressing could because there's so many different possibilities on how they use this (if they are using this), so please, don't take this as fact. This is based on speculation based on what we know.

A time loop is a great way to explain away the differences in the story that we've seen: Biggs being alive, Wedge living for longer than he should have, etc. Since these are not major plot changes, they can simply say that this time it'll be slightly different... but your fixed points (major plot points) will remain the same.

It's a way to pull in some of the more obscure themes from Dirge of Cerberus and also play with the LOVELESS lore.

It could all simply be a big red herring and it's really just a remake of OG, but with the compilation tied together nicely... since it works much better when it's combined and not in 50 different games, books, movies, etc.

I don't think it's a "sequel" per say, not in the way I generally perceive a sequel. It's more of a loop of the same thing. The question is, when is the loop started and what will cause it to end? When will the planet (if it even is the planet) determine that it's good enough to begin moving forward?

JENOVA, Sephiroth, Genesis, and Minerva - Oh My!

Let's be real... Genesis isn't exactly the most popular character in the FFVII Compilation... but what if they make him one of the most important to the story? //Ducks as various fruits and vegetable are thrown in my direction//

I think what Genesis is probably most known for is his love of LOVELESS. He has the entire thing memorized and randomly says lines from it throughout Crisis Core. LOVELESS lore is still something I'm trying to grasp, so I am not going to comment much on it. Once I understand it more, I'll update this.

...And then this happens. The secret ending for Dirge of Cerberus, where Genesis picks up Weiss. Weiss, who has now been introduced along with Nero in FFVII INTERmission and is an optional ridiculously hard boss in the Shinra battle simulator in chapter 17 of the main story. There is some lore associated with the battle sim - so if you don't plan on beating it or you just can't, you can look up the pre-battle and post-battle cut scenes on YouTube. They're very short, but interesting. (I beat this asshole last night - it's a hell of a fight.)

....To Be Continued because apparently Tumblr won't allow more than 10 images per post now.... Next will be more on JENOVA and Sephiroth along with Minerva.

[whereflowersbloom]

Morning after

The smell of freshly baked croissants and coffee woke her up. Raven hardly ever felt so rested, even after spending an hour meditating before going to sleep, opening her eyes and getting accustomed to the morning light of the sun that illuminated her room through the windows. She turned on her back and nestled in this new, previously unknown feeling. She was strangely calm as if everything was in the right place, and every possible problem remained in the past.

Maybe that’s what genuine serenity feels like, she thought to herself.

But how did she end up in this situation? They became friends. Best friends, even. They talked about everything including their most intimate thoughts. She told herself it was enough or deceived herself into believing so. There was no line for them to cross but a secret and deep part of her soul definitely understood and sought the need to feel wanted and loved and fulfilled. Not like she hadn’t thought of Damian that way before. There was such a terrible tension between them sometimes when they were both sitting on her the sofa watching old classic films or reading books they both enjoyed. She craved the heat of Damian’s embrace. She remembered how it felt to have him curled around her, how gently his thumb stroked her cheek, how his muscles flexed against her, and she wishes he would hold her again.

Damian was like a compass for Raven if she felt like she might lose her way, and that kind of thing never happened to her. Not often at least.

As usual Damian went jogging as it had become his habit thanks to Jon, who craved the sunlight as soon as he opened his eyes, persistently asking him to be his partner. A surprising string elbow in the ribs by Jon gave him the second push to voice his feelings for Raven. Later, he visited a local bakery that made exquisite chocolate croissants, as he memorized Raven’s favorites. Then he returned home with a sudden thought it was the high time to turn his quiet feelings for Raven into something serious. He wanted to fool himself at first, but as it turned out, he was too fucking smart to believe a single word of the downright falsehood he made up in his mind in order to excuse himself from the imminent truth. He was in love with her.

She was about to get out of bed to stretch her muscles when Damian walked into the room carrying a tray with breakfast: hot coffee, steaming Earl Grey, croissants and juicy autumnal fruit. She wanted to approach him, wrap her arms around him and kiss him on the neck, the sensitive spot she discovered last night, but they were not yet at that stage of the relationship. As the matter of fact, she did not know exactly who they were to each other now. Maybe nothing had changed. After all, it had been just a few kisses last night, letting go, a carpet diem kind of moment. Maybe Damian didn’t want things to change between them.

"Good morning.” Damian muttered, sending her one of his radiant, sincere smiles that made her legs weak. "Did you sleep well?"

“Yes. Better than most days. I didn’t know if you would come back...” She kept her own voice soft, matching his tone, afraid to burst the strange bubble they found themselves in. Controlling her anxiety was easier said than done.

“I simply needed time to clear my mind.” His expression was solemn. “We must discuss last night’s event.” He mumbled under his breath, voice deadly calm, a convincing facade, fighting to distract the both of them from his own wild whirlwind of emotions as he left the tray at the bedside table. No woman in his life had ever truly enchanted him in the way she did. He would not give her up.

Her lower lip trembled slightly. She repeated her mantra over ten times until she calmed her nerves. Damian was her closest friend, and she cared about not ruining the special bond between them. They said it was easier to move on as long as you were merely lovers, but what when you are so much more. She felt like a teenager who was falling in love for the first time. Not that she was that much older at the age of 19. She had experience in meaningless romances, short-lived, Wally, Garfield, but she knew nothing about true love. Their bond was beyond comprehensible lines of poetry. More than it being undefinable, it was the freeness to be defined, the way as open interpretations take you.

“We don’t have to to this now. In fact, nothing has to change.” She spoke tentatively, unsure whether she’s more concerned how this would shape their friendship or embarrassed she let herself cross a line. Slowly passing around the room folding her arms across her chest.

The distress was heavy in her chest, stirred with a fog of uncertainty.

At this, Damian’s eyes sparkled with determination and objection regarding her statement. Before she registered what he was doing, he grabbed her hand. “I do not want to leave things exactly as they used to be. Not before last night.” He held her gaze and rubbed his thumb over the backside of her hand, reveling in the softness of her skin.

There’s a fluttering in her stomach, and she’s taken aback at the intensity of it. Butterflied filled with hope and wish. There was hope of light after all darks, hope of happiness after grief, hope of a new colorful sunrise, a chapter to be rewritten.

“It was just a kiss..” In a trice, breaking off the contact. She lied and immediately regretted it. Damian stood next to her with a disbelieving expression on his face. There was a hint of indignation but it vanished quickly.

“You and I both know it meant more than a kiss. I do not need the gift of empathy to see it.” Damian stated sharply, his features hardened at his resolution. He was tired of constantly feeling this weight on his shoulders. What was the point of deceiving themselves any longer? If he didn’t know better, he would say she was avoiding him like a plague.

Letting out a breath she had been holding in since Damian entered her bedroom, Raven felt a weight being lifted off her chest. “Damian...I” She started, but never managed to finish interrupted by an unexpected question.

"Do you have any plans for today?" He left the question hanging in the air.

With brows furrowed in confusion she found herself unable to command her mouth to utter anything. Her heart thudded out of her chest. The normally unflappable last daughter of Azarath knocked for a loop by the close proximity of her stunning teammate.

Raven parted her lips and closed them again.

“It seems we are free to do as we please today. Clear schedule. No training or missions. He shrugged casually, willing his breath to remain steady, years of boiling emotions teetering over the edge of his elegant, suave composure

Raven blinked. Amethysts widening.

“I thought we could go somewhere. You and I” Damian licked his lips, swallowing the nerves in his chest as her eyes widen a fraction at his proposal. "There's a new Parisian café in the city I think you might like.”

Her lips curved up into a sweet smile, growing wider and more radiant as she thought of sitting in Parisian cafe with Damian, enjoying a minute of bliss to be in the other’s company.

“Are you asking me on a date, Damian Wayne?” She blurted with a momentary astonished look, even as she realized the implication of his words. Was this truly happening? She asked herself mentally.

“I’m courting you properly, Raven. So yes, I’m asking you out.” His shoulders ease from their tensed position, subconsciously hunched in nerves to what she’d respond.

It was surreal, talking about what a few minutes ago had been unbearable chains, restrained by her own fears and inner demons. Ethereal strands of thread that could be snapped by a mere jerk of fingers. He wanted more. He wanted her.

“I don’t know, Damian.” She bit her lip still indecisive, gaze away from his face. Once again mind invaded by intrusive negative thoughts. What if it didn’t work? What if she lost control? The numerous what if’s haunted her like never ending nightmares.

Taking a step closer, something in his emerald sparked with an idea and firmness of not quitting. “Any chance I can persuade you to change your mind then?” He crooned in her ear, nipping at it just slightly, taking her breath away. She wondered how long she could resist his gravitational pull for so long.

Raven hesitated for a good few seconds before finally resigning herself to the fact that whatever she did. She couldn’t fight this anymore. She loved him. “I can think of a few ways.” She was surprised at her own boldness, snaking slender arms around his torso. He pressed his built body against hers closer, placing tender, teasing kisses along her neck. Whilst she was glad that he was enjoying himself, she was going to completely lose it if she remained flush against him for much longer. Her entire core heated with want for him. He smirked at the effect he had on her with his natural charm. This confident, cocky air. This was so him and content and not bothering to mask it. No filters.

“Is that a yes?” He whispered and there was no missing the boyish grin spread over his tanned cheeks. Hooking a finger under her chin and brought her face level with his own.

“I suppose you earned a date, Mr. Wayne.” She laughed feverishly. Gently, stroking his palm with her thumb. Enjoying the calloused yet silky skin of an accomplished swordsman and fighter.

An audible sigh left Damian’s mouth as his muscles relaxed with her nestled in his arms. She could sense his relief. Yes, perhaps a change could be good, opening herself to feel again. A new chapter of light and joy.

Notes: I know I have disappeared and haven’t updated in forever but I’m still sick and weak. Also working on the fanzine project. I should be done in a week though. But meanwhile have this short damirae. Not my best but I hope you enjoy it 💖💖💜💜

@deepbreadlover @tweepunkgrl @alerialblu @chromium7sky @kallura-juniblade @cayeeast

I miss you all and youre all welcome to message me. I feel a bit disconnected from the world.

Also I’d like to use to wish @shewhowillnotbenamed1 a happy birthday!! Thank you for blessing us with your beautiful wiring and your friendship 😊😊🥰💜💖

[and-there-were-words]

A Spider Life: Slow days (Chapter 05)

I first wanted to write something out of the Spider Queen’s POV, but struggled to keep it within the narrative I am going for at the moment. I will write something for her after what’s show-canon though. A slow one with some more HCs, but I hope you still enjoy this chapter!

Also “Ask questions” had been enabled, I did not notice they weren’t before /o/

---

Taking place some time before “Minor scale”.

After the last two, rather smooth successes of gathering the artifacts, things had turned… slow. With everyone doing their best to busy themselves, Syntax makes some (for him at least) interesting observations. (Wordcount: around 2150)

---

With the mirror in their possession, the little lady had grown silent while working on the furnace. Aside from that whisper business of course, that had been a constant the last few days. And while nobody wanted to admit it out loud, it put everyone on the edge. Even the Queen.

However, nothing would stop Syntax from working on his spiderbots, even trying to improve the additional arms on his back. Not the easiest thing to do when you don’t have eyes on the back of your head, but making sure they just won’t snap in the heat of a moment felt rather crucial. The additional weight to this upgrade wasn’t exactly a worry to him at all, in the end he wasn’t one of the brawler types.

Something in the air changed, making him halt for a second.

“Yes Huntsman, how can I help you?”, he spoke without needing to look up. The other spider made a frustrated noise at being detected, he had been just mere inches away to give the scientist a poke. With an annoyed huff he turned around to stomp back to Goliath. Syntax would be lying to say if the other's frustration didn't plug on a string of satisfaction. This sort of interactions had been going on for a while now.

Leaning back, just to give his spine a proper stretch, the scientist couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud of himself. Just the progress he had made the last few days was satisfying, and not only the ones on his machines – but himself too. Huntsman had taken a sadistic joy in startling him whenever he could, and he was infuriatingly good at it. Though, Syntax started to pick up on the faint noises the hunter made when stepping on stone, the shuffling of clothes. Eventually he could catch him prior to a scare.

Which only goaded Huntsman to try even harder, becoming more and more silent and careful in his steps. Syntax had taken recordings to measure the changes of skill level (and for his own sanity) – by now, the hunting spider was so silent that even his gadgets could barely pick up the sounds anymore. Certainly a skill Huntsman had all along, but finally seemed to shake off the initial rust after his involuntary slumber. With the knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to catch him on that anymore, the scientist tried to focus on other giveaways.

What had started as an obvious attempt on grilling his nerves, developed into a near playful banter. Just the wordless back and forth to get the other to try harder. In an odd way, it almost felt like Huntsman was training him, but he was careful to keep that thought to himself. Syntax knew better than to read too much into the hunter's actions, as chaotic as they were.

Nonetheless, the scientist found himself trying to imitate the hunter now and then. Since the guy was going on about smelling all kind of stuff, he gave it a try himself. At first not picking up much more than the damp air in the cave, the metal of the machines. It took him a while to find stronger differences, trying to casually walk past Goliath and the Queen. He found it rather surprising that they didn't seem to do much to hide their presence, but maybe it was simply the comfort of the cave that allowed them to do so.

Picking up on Huntsman was an entirely different beast. The man always seemingly on guard, always ready to appear and disappear. However with time, the scientist managed to actually pick up on Huntsman’s scent, as faint as it was. Kind of earthy, a little bit mildewed, and Syntax could swear there was the ever lingering hint of fresh blood. Did this guy ever wash that pelt of his?

Of course, he would never claim that his own sense of scent was as powerful as the hunter’s, but it was enough to know who was currently around the cave. The little lady didn't seem to have any telltales like these, which usually would've raised red flags in his mind but… he didn't question it, nobody else did either. Anything else he came in contact with, the scents of the surface… became a mixed blend of too much too quickly. Maybe a task for another time.

Aside from that, scent and hearing weren’t the only senses he had noticed an improvement in! Their lair seemed to have become much less dark, he wasn’t as dependable on his goggles as he used to be anymore. What before had looked like chunky and random bits of webbing, now unveiled themselves as carefully crafted pieces with intriguing patterns, with uses he was still starting to understand. Goliath did his best to explain them in more 'common' terms, and it was always a pleasant surprise to see how excited the large spider became to share his knowledge. The more time Syntax spent within the Silk Web Cave, the more beautiful this place became to him. A pride welling up that he lived here.

However their hideout wasn’t the only thing that was much more layered than he previously thought. Turning around in his seat, he watched the other two henchmen going about their day. Currently sticking their heads together over something he couldn't see from his position. Still, he watched them a little, while he was sorting further observations in his mind.

...to no one’s surprise, when he wasn’t within the lair, Huntsman was hunting. Or at least, somewhere outside doing who knows what for days on end. Yet always coming back with some good pieces of meat, roots and berries (but mainly meat). The first time Syntax saw the hunter preparing food for dinner, he nearly refused to partake in it. Mostly because he couldn’t imagine his meals to taste anything but bland, or worse, be poisoned. Color him surprised, that stew was better than most dishes the Queen would concoct on a daily basis. Another thought Syntax would take to his grave before speaking it out loud.

When Huntsman wasn’t around for dinner, and everyone else felt too lazy to scavenge for some proper food options, Goliath and he would order takeout. The strong spider clearly intrigued by this concept, always wanting to try something new. Syntax often questioned the sanity of the cityfolk, considering that the delivery people didn’t had much care to come down near a spider den. The food from the surface world had something comforting to the scientist, as cheap and artifical as it sometimes was. Though he was really craving noodle soup as of late and he wasn’t entirely sure why. Syntax let out a little sigh while standing up.

This whole food thing had also shown an interesting side on Goliath. While the Queen and Huntsman didn’t seem to particularly care about human food (the latter even openly showing his distaste for it), the strong spider had taken a deep fascination. Especially sweets and candies seemed to have struck his attention the most. More than once did Syntax catch him just trying some new trendy food or colorful jawbreaker that he got from… who knows where. Goliath didn’t make any of this a secret, however he clearly wasn’t one with a rotten sweet-tooth as he barely finished anything. “For science.”, he once said with a wink and didn’t elaborate any further. Okay then.

“What are you two doing?”, Syntax casually asked as he wandered closer to the two. The strong spider looked up in confusion for a second before giving the younger man a smirk, “Secrets”. The scientist blinked owlishly, circling around them to look over the smaller spider’s shoulder. There were parchments of leather, deer if Syntax would have to guess, with Huntsman trying to draw squares and circles. Large black smudges here and there told the story of many previous attempts, letting the edges of the material look almost black by now.

"Get away from me.", the kneeling spider hissed, Syntax complying with an annoyed eye roll. Looking back at the larger man in an unspoken question. "We want to make a new robe for the Queen.", the giant almost beamed with excitement. Only for the big smile to water down in mild disappointment, "Buddy ain't good at designing though."

"If you wouldn't be just so damn picky!", Huntsman shot back, smudging away his latest attempt. "Just let me do what I do best, I know what I am d-"

"No!", Syntax flinched a little in surprise. It wasn't exactly an usual thing for Goliath to argue, or to even interrupt someone. "I want this to be special and you just can't get the patterns right! For the Queen's sake, just follow a plan for once!"

The scientist had to raise a brow. This was the first time he ever saw the two of them actually butting heads and… he had to admit, it was a little bit refreshing. Letting his eyes wander to some other pieces of leather, recognizing the sketches as copies from the patterns all over the cave. This one was a sigil of warding, as he had learned the other day, and a few were the Queen's own emblem. In case some other spider demon decided to come here, they would immediately know who's domain they dared to enter. The rest of those, he had not gotten an explanation yet.

"If I may.", mechanical arms shoved Huntsman unceremoniously to the side. Crouching down to pick up one of the charcoal, he started to draw. He was no expert on how to draw people by any means, but it certainly resembled the queen more than any of Huntsman's attempts. With careful strokes, he designed a fairly simple cut, working in the patterns on how he would think would look good on the Queen. It didn't pass him that the other two were watching with bated breath.

Once done, the scientist sat back on his heels, giving his creation a proper look. Not too shabby, if he may say so himself.

"Oh this is really good, Syntax!", Goliath cheered, looking like he wanted to touch the sketch but didn't dare to. On the other end of the emotional spectrum, Huntsman almost looked like he was about to explode.

"The fuck is your problem.", the elder hissed in dreadful silence, whole body tense and twitching. "What do you think you are!", he now became louder but Syntax did his best to just give him a neutral expression and not to budge. Which may not have been the best idea, as it only agitated the other further. The hunter was now standing, looming over him. "You really think you can just come in here and do whatever?! Think you can just be part of this??"

Large and sharp spider legs lashed out, in reflex Syntax let out a startled cry and raised his arms in an attempt of protection. But the pain didn't come. They hadn't aimed at him, instead… having shred the parchment with the sketches to bits. "I REFUSE TO WEAVE THIS."

Like an angry lion, the hunter had bared his fangs in a snarl. For a moment, Syntax was still prepared to be hit by the other, but the hunter suddenly turned around and just. Left. Goliath looked torn between the two men, mouthing a silent "Sorry" before hurrying after his friend.

A breath he didn't know he was holding, escaped his lungs. Syntax crumbled a bit to the floor, bitter thoughts flooding in. Just when he thought things were doing okay. Of course he had to step right into a sensitive nerve for the older spider. Heavy clicking pulled him out of his thoughts, but he couldn't care at the moment to look presentable before the Queen.

Spider Queen looked between the tired scientist and shredded pieces of leather, no apparent expression showing. But of course there was a glint of recognition in her eyes. "Why y'all causing such a ruckus?" Syntax sighed silently, giving a brief summary of the recent events.

The silence that followed was uncomfortable, the scientist not entirely sure how his Queen would react. To his surprise, she let out a little tired sigh. "Weaving is something quite personal to us. Especially if we do it for someone else.", she explained without really looking back at him. Instead giving the destroyed sketches another glance. "Just pretend this never happened. He'll get over it." With that, she simply left.

Syntax pulled his lips into a frown. Just ignore this all? If Huntsman got over it or not, it did not matter. His fists clenched a little, looking at the floor, choking and holding back bitter tears he could feel burning in hte back of his eyes. Syntax was more upset that he apparently wasn't allowed to be an actual part of this clan, no matter how hard he tried.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 13

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Chloe sat on the bridge overlooking the river, her feet swinging absently as she watched bubbles streaming to the surface.

She’d love to help.

No, really. On top of just being bored out of her mind, she could also rub it in the other miraculous holders’ faces. That would be fun.

But, alas, things never worked out for her. Master Fu hadn’t whipped up a new batch of powerups quite yet, and even if he had she doubted that he would have given it to her of all people.

(Well, in all technicality they could go underwater and not die. The suits gave them some protection. But have you ever tried punching someone underwater? It’s quite the disadvantage.)

So, she settled for eating some ice cream and watching.

It was kind of fun, if she was being honest. She watched with bated breath, waiting for the occasional moments where Carapace would be thrown out of the water and hit a wall so hard it collapsed on him. He noticed her the third time this happened and now made a point to throw chunks of building at her every time.

Someone was in a bad mood. Who knows why. Couldn’t have anything to do with her, surely.

After about twenty minutes of fighting the buildings started mending themselves and she smiled as her ice cream reappeared in her hand.

Carapace jumped out of the water, a young woman in his arms. Once they were safely on land he detached her from the oxygen tank hidden in the shell on his back. If some of the water on her face wasn’t from the river, neither of them were going to say anything about it.

He walked over. Chloe thought he was just giving her some space to cry (the person looked foreign, if their confused frown was anything to go by), but then she saw the annoyance in the slight set of his jaw and she groaned mentally. Great. She was going to get chewed out again.

“Thanks so much for your help, Chloe --”

“Queenie or Queen Bee when we’re on the job, remember?”

He raised his eyebrows before shrugging and continuing on like he hadn’t heard her: “-- were you here to just watch and laugh?”

She scoffed. “No, that was just a fun little bonus.” She handed him the newly reformed ice cream. “I came here to take the akuma home. Didn’t know she was foreign, though.”

That made him pause, his previously annoyed expression quickly changing to a more confused one. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanted to help me? You?”

“... yeah?” Said Chloe, crossing her arms over her chest. He was clearly looking for some sort of ulterior motive in her eyes, and she figured she’d give him one because she didn’t know how long she could stand to have him look stunned about her doing something mildly nice. “I feel like I owe everyone one for getting us all into this mess.”

He didn’t seem fully convinced (was he really that surprised that she was a decent person? She was a hero! It was her job!), but he let the subject go.

“Thanks, Queenie.”

She smiled a little. “Your ice cream is melting.”

“Damn it --!”

She snickered and walked over to the foreigner, who was just now coming out of their shock.

“Hey!”

The foreigner stared at her for a few minutes before whispering a: “What happened?”

“Um...”

What was the official spiel? Dang. She wracked her brain, trying to remember anything from the many hour long session where Master Fu had drilled it into all of them. Maybe she shouldn’t have slept through it.

“You got turned into a monster by an evil butterfly because we have a magical super terrorist.”

The lady stared at her for a few seconds before laughing and shaking her head. “Okay, what actually happened?”

Chloe gave her a shrug. “I don’t know. You fell in the water and my friend got you out.”

She jerked her head towards Carapace, who was casually eating the ice cream on a nearby bench and not going to class like she’d expected but whatever.

The foreigner nodded. “Yeah, I am a bit clumsy. Why’re you dressed like that?”

Chloe looked down at herself and hesitated. Usually her dad wanted them to say that they were filming a movie so they would still get tourists, but Nadja Chamack wasn’t there to make it sound realistic (no one wants to watch still water on the news for 10+ minutes), so…

“My friend and I cosplay.”

“Oh! Cool!” Said the foreigner. “Thanks for helping me! Hope your outfit didn’t get too damaged!”

After Carapace assured her that it was fine, she relaxed. They gave her directions to her hotel and watched her leave.

He cracked a grin once he was sure the foreigner was gone. “Maybe there’s something in the Paris air that makes people stupid. I still can’t believe anyone actually falls for that.”

“The alternative is believing there's a guy who’s going around with evil butterflies. I’d believe anything over that.”

“America has superheroes and stuff, too, y’know.”

“Yeah, but the heroes are adults and the villains actually show up.”

He sighed. “Lucky them.”

Chloe couldn’t help but agree.

He polished off his ice cream. When asked, she turned away so he could detransform and put his mask on. She didn’t know why he bothered detransforming when he was still wearing a green hoodie as a civilian. What was the point? Did he really want the sleeves back that badly?

Whatever. She detransformed as well.

“Ready to head home?”

“For someone who was so annoyed about leaving class, you don’t seem all that eager to go back to it,” said Chloe, crossing her arms over her chest as they started on their way.

He raised an eyebrow at her, unimpressed. “The excuse I used isn’t one that would let me go back. Or, at least, if I did everyone in class would think I was a terrible friend.”

She nodded her understanding.

“Thanks for trying, though.”

She chanced a look back and scoffed a little at the soft smile on his face. “Don’t expect anything like that again. I just owed you.”

The look melted into a cheeky grin. “Well, actually, you didn’t actually do anything to help, so don’t you still owe me?”

“... no? I gave you ice cream. Debt gone. That's how it works.”

“Okay, but it was previously eaten ice cream.”

“Like you can tell the difference.”

He rested a hand over his heart. “I happen to have a very refined palette, thank you very much.”

“I’ve seen you eat pickles with peanut butter.”

“You’ve dipped a burger in honey!”

“I have an excuse,” she reminded him. “What’s yours?”

He was silent for a moment. There was no excuse for pickles and peanut butter.

“... you still owe me.”

“No, I don’t!”

Would you believe me if I said that they continued debating this the entire twenty minute walk home?

And maybe even a little bit afterwards?

~

Chloe glanced out the window. It was nearing October, and…

“Hey, guys, we need to use these vegetables before they go out of season.”

Chat looked up from where he was watching a cartoon. Rena stopped doing pushups.

(Ladybug was on patrol and Carapace was doing homework in his room. Unfortunate, because now both of the people assigned the role of ‘group impulse control’ were absent.)

“What even uses a lot of vegetables?” Rena said.

“Salad,” said Chat with a knowing nod.

“Ew,” said Chloe, shaking her head. She stared at everything they had, a tiny frown playing on her lips, then snapped her fingers. “Salsa uses vegetables, right? Let’s just make a bunch of that.”

There were a lot of vegetables, but hey! More for them.

Rena went back to doing pushups. “Sure. Just make sure it isn’t white people stuff. Try asking for the recipe in Spanish.”

“Smart. Chat, can you look it up? I have dirt on my hands.”

Chat groaned as if she were asking him to do some great task and then stretched for his phone on the coffee table. He refused to leave the couch, so he ended up with his feet hooked over the arm of the couch for support as he stretched himself to the phone. He broke into a wide grin when he finally managed to grab it and then pulled himself back onto the couch.

It was probably more effort than just getting up a bit to grab it then sitting back down, but whatever.

He started typing, then he paused. “You guys know the Spanish word for salsa?”

Silence stretched between them as the two women looked at each other, trying to gauge whether or not he’d actually just asked that. Chat was steadily sinking into the couch as if hoping it would swallow him whole.

“The… the spanish word for salsa?” Repeated Rena.

“It -- I -- shut up!” He said. “Do you want salsa or not?”

Chloe snickered. “Sure. Can I see the recipe?”

He showed it to her and she squinted for a minute at all the words. Were some of them similar to French words? Yes. Was she completely sure about anything? Not at all.

She briefly considered asking Chat to translate everything for her, but she couldn’t. Not after she’d laughed at him for temporarily forgetting that salsa is salsa. He’d at least known the word for ‘recipe’ in Spanish, he had that over her.

Whatever. She’d guess. She’d had salsa before, surely that was enough to figure it out.

She started picking vegetables and after making sure to wash them off properly, they were set to start cooking.

Rena raised her eyebrows at the sink full of vegetables, opened her mouth to say something, snapped it shut. Her lips curved into a fox-like grin.

“What is it? I don’t like that smile,” said Chloe. She could feel that Rena was getting mischievous, she just couldn’t figure out why.

“Ah, don’t worry,” said Rena, waving her off as she pulled on an apron.

This worried Chloe more, but whatever.

“We don’t have a food processor or a blender, what do we do?” Said Chat, his eyes scanning the recipe.

“Just cut them real thin. It’ll be fine,” said Chloe with a vague wave of her hand.

She had a lot of confidence for someone who had never been in a kitchen in her life.

… It went great. Obviously.

The resident rich kids actually had been trying to be helpful, which kind of makes their failures worse in a way.

Chloe had been cutting tomatoes with the dull end of the knife for ten minutes before Rena had thought to look over and turn it around.

Chat had thought that it would be a good idea to chop jalapenos before onions and had rubbed jalapeno juice in his eye while trying to stop crying, which had not helped.

While Chat was attempting to get that out of his eyes without actually touching them, Chloe had taken up cutting onions. It was harder than she’d thought it’d be. The onion kept falling apart no matter how hard she tried to hold it together.

Chat had come back, eyes irritated and red, and started trying to cut tomatoes. This would have been fine if he could actually see the seeds enough to get them out.

… it was at this point that Rena had made them go sit down so she could just cook without a disaster happening every few seconds. She may have liked mayhem, but she actually wanted to eat some of the food they were working so hard for, so it was in her best interest to get them to just sit down at the kitchen table and watch.

A good while later Rena walked over. “I finished. Want to see?” She asked, her voice a little wobbly, as if she was on the verge of laughter.

Chloe squinted suspiciously at her before looking at the counter.

Ah. So that was what Rena’s mischievous smile had meant earlier.

They might have made about seven mixing bowls full of salsa (actually, it was more pico de gallo if you consider consistency, but that’s neither here nor there).

Chat groaned quietly. “Well, I hope Ladybug and Carapace really like salsa.”

“We don’t.”

The three problem children looked up to see Ladybug and Carapace leaning in the doorframe. Ladybug looked like she was fighting back her amusement, Carapace just looked tired.

Ladybug managed to pull herself back to her normal formalness as she crossed her arms over her chest. “According to the internet, salsa goes bad in about a week. I do expect that you won’t waste any.”

“Please help,” said a slightly distressed Rena. Their diets were SCREWED.

“Nope. This was your mistake,” said Carapace.

Oh, so NOW he has a backbone?

Ladybug gave Rena a cold look. “You should have told them.”

“... it was my miraculous’s fault.”

“Unfortunate,” said Carapace, unamused. He looked at the bowls on the counter and shook his head with a sigh. “Guess I need to go buy some tortilla chips for everyone.”

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @mialuvscats @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Midnight Ball

Pairing: Todoroki x reader

Warnings: None

Author’s Note:

Day two of Sugar’s Spooky Days/Fall Special

Hehehe I have managed to finish something! Can’t say as much for the Kirishima one, so that might have to be late :(. I should have that one done sometime over the weekend though, so fingers crossed!

I also may or may not have been thinking about Heartless by Marissa Meyer while I wrote that first bit 👀👀 (read it, it’s good, especially if you want to sob your eyeballs out like I did)

I hope you like this one! It was fun for me to write!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.

You had insisted on not coming to this party.

You, of course, had said this as if you had a choice. Really, as someone with your status, you should have the power to make decisions for yourself. But nooo, as the only daughter of the Marquess and Marchioness, it was your duty to attend the king’s bi-annual masquerade ball. Bother.

So, here you were, all dressed up with little intention to dance or even have fun. You clung to the sides of the spacious dancefloor, hoping to keep to yourself enough that no one would try to talk to you. It was truly dreadful what some of your fellow nobility could come up with for small talk. Exchanging formalities and remarking on politics, only then to run off into a tangent on whatever subject may have recently captured their trivial attention.

You longed to be elsewhere—in a library perhaps, or in your garden, working on sketches in your notebook. Gracious, come to think of it, maybe sleeping would even be the better option. It was dreadfully late.

The king always insisted on throwing such parties as these so late at night, stretching all the way to early hours of the morning. You’d gotten plenty of rest prior in preparation for this autumn Midnight Ball, but between the lack of meaningful interaction and your desire to be elsewhere, you found yourself capturing yawns in your gloved hand.

Your childhood best friend didn’t seem to have this problem. You could see her now, indigo skirts swishing around her ankles as she danced with some green haired man. You couldn’t quite tell if you had ever seen him before, but he was probably from some foreign kingdom. You’d certainly hear all about him tomorrow.

You began to grow antsy at your position on the west wall. Your heels were beginning to make your ankles ache, and your mask was growing progressively warmer with each breath. A glance towards the banquet table told you that the coast was clear for you to browse the selection of food laid out, but your corset made you think twice. Your handmaiden had done it so dreadfully tight.

Curses. Not to her, she had done nothing wrong. Maybe at your mother, who insisted on lacing it up in this way.

You chewed at your tongue. Maybe a walk in the courtyard would clear your head. It would definitely be cooler and not so bright. If you were lucky, you may even be alone.

Gathering your (F/C) skirts in your fists, you strode to the door to the outside, ducking through small gatherings of people and curtseying to the guards positioned at the exit. You knew you had made the right decision as soon as the night air hit your face, a cool October breeze seeping behind your mask and ruffling the feathers that adorned it. A full moon lit your path as you walked further into the manicured gardens. You’d been around here before, yet you still allowed yourself time to admire the hedges and trees closing off spaces of land. Flowerbeds were artfully placed wherever they could fit, although you could tell that most of their plentiful blooming yield had already gone back within themselves for the frosty winter. What you were truly interested in was a small pond located in the back, hidden behind a few bushes at its side.

The clear pool laid stagnant before you as you knelt down to look into it. The light of the moon bounced off your bejeweled costume mask, causing the water to sparkle even brighter beneath you. A large koi fish took notice of your signal, lazily sliding its stout, tri-colored body towards the surface in hopes that you may have brought it some food.

“I’m sorry, little friend,” you whispered to its expectant gaping mouth, “I don’t have anything for you.”

You watched him for another moment, little splashes made by the fish’s fins breaking the stillness of both the silent night air and the pool’s surface.

“You’ve upset him.”

The sound of an unfamiliar voice made you start. You straightened, brushing off the front of your skirt. Turning, you saw the figure of a man standing a few paces away from you. His build was lean and strong, and a mask of his own glittered in the all-encompassing moonlight. It was difficult to make out any identifying features, but a part of you just knew that he was intangibly handsome.

“Sorry?” you said, trying to compose yourself.

Perfect. This was just what you had been trying to avoid: interaction. Maybe he’d go easy on you and let you leave soon, or maybe he could have something genuinely worthwhile to say.

“That fish,” he clarified. “He’s hungry.”

You pursed your lips together in thought as you stole a glance back at the pond. Your koi friend had retreated back to the depths of his home as soon as you had turned your back. The air hummed with silence once more.

“Is he, though?” you asked. “He probably gets fed just as well as any other creature living on the grounds.”

The mysterious man shrugged. “True, but perhaps that’s the most joy he gets out of life.”

“Oh.” You stood there awkwardly for a second in silence, trying to think of a response. “That’s a little . . . grim.”

“Sorry.” He shifted. “I’ve always felt bad for fish.”

“How so?”

He took a step closer to the pond, bending a bit at the waist in order for him to see into it better. “They have less freedom. Little to do, nowhere to go . . . sometimes they remind me of myself a bit.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not terribly fond of my father.”

You blinked, wondering if he was going anywhere with this.

His eyes finally snapped up to yours. The moon caught their shades perfectly, drawing out hints of color that would normally be lost to their own depths. It struck you suddenly that you had seen these eyes before; one a steely silver while the other was a lovely cerulean that nearly seemed to glow. Where had you previously seen these eyes?

“Sorry,” he apologized again. “I didn’t mean to overstep.” He straightened up to properly face you, his posture rigid and practiced, just as you had seen all the other noblemen do your whole life. “My name is Shouto Todoroki, son of Duke Enji Todoroki,” he said, piercing eyes growing a little glassy at the voicing of his own name. He bowed to you, and around the top of his mask, you took notice of his perfectly split bi-colored hair. “My lady,” he said.

“Shouto?” Yes, that was right. You’d met him a few times as children, playing together while your families held council meetings. It had to have been nearly ten years since you’d seen him last, and to be honest, he’d grown into quite the man.

“Yes?” he answered, uncertain.

“It’s me,” you said, lifting your mask a bit to better show off your eyes and features in the dim light. “(F/N) (L/N).”

You watched as he did a double take; eyes scanning you from top to bottom as he put a name to your person. “(Y/N) . . . wow, it’s been a long time.”

You chuckled, fiddling with the material of your skirt between your fingers. “You’re not saying I’m old, now, are you?”

He snorted, his posture relaxing. “Of course not, my lady.”

You began to chat, settling in beside him as you wandered around the gardens together. It was only now that you realized how much you had missed your old friend, finding it shockingly easy to talk with him. He spoke of his father and how he intended for Shouto to take his place in power when his time came. You noted the bitterness he carried in his voice, vaguely remembering the emergence of the issue from the last time you’d conversed. He listened to your own life updates, interested in your hobbies and what you had to say about life and time. In fact, it nearly felt as if no time had passed at all, and you’d remained close throughout the years.

The light of the castle began to creep upon the path ahead of you, and you noticed that you’d circled the entire perimeter of the gardens. Music from the ballroom floated to your ears, and you recognized the tune. Influenced by your improved mood, you began to hum along to a few of the notes, nodding your head to the light, peppy rhythm.

Shouto took notice of this, eyeing you with a small smile gracing his usually stoic face. He sped up just enough to come up in front of you, causing you to halt in your tracks. He bowed before you again, one hand behind his back with the other outstretched for your own. “If I may, could I have this dance? This is your king’s ball, and I believe that my lady deserves at least one before the night’s end.”

An unexpected heat climbed to your cheeks. Why were you suddenly feeling this way? Your childhood friend had certainly grown into quite the handsome young man, but you couldn’t ever remember thinking of him in this manner. He’d only ever shown kindness and respect towards you, and it was only now beginning to weigh on you how much you liked him. But this weight wasn’t in any way unpleasant, in fact, it made you feel giddier, almost light and intrepid. What could one dance together hurt?

You rested your hand in his, the fabrics of your gloves sliding together as your fingers met. His head turned up so he could once again make eye contact, drawing your offered appendage to his lips. They brushed over your knuckles, feather light, and you found yourself wishing that the silken material could have been removed. How soft were his lips truly?

Shouto walked you a few paces away onto an open area in the grass, the fragrance of greenery and crisp evening air wafting through the space. Every surface was bathed in a fine layer of moonlight, giving the world a dark, silvery glow. Shouto’s skin gleamed pale and resembled porcelain, eyes shining behind the contrasting shadows of his mask.

With your palm in his, he guided you closer to him, his other hand alighting on the small of your back.

“The moon highlights your beauty remarkably so. I’ve never felt this . . . enamored by someone.”

You shivered at his words, the gentle intensity of his gaze boring into you. You began to fall into step with the music wavering in the background. The cheerful rhythm made your heart soar as you glided over the grass with your partner. He led you through some practiced steps, others entirely new. Your skirts swirled around your ankles, adding an extra flare to each of your movements. The sound of the hidden orchestra was distant and thin, and yet there was such a feeling that instilled through you, almost as if the music had seeped all the way to your marrow.

You watched as Shouto’s face began to relax into a little smile, twirling you this way, dipping you over his strong arm, pulling you back into his chest. The whole ordeal took your breath away, and even in the cool night air, your cheeks began to ignite in a palpable warmth of their own. Time slowed, and it was as though you’d been his dance partner for centuries, finding a rhythm and flowing together as one.

That is, until a shooting pain fired through your ankle, causing you to gasp and stumble. Shouto caught and steadied you in his arms before you could fall very far, worry clouding over his face.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You grimaced, shifting your weight on your feet. “It’s my heels,” you explained. “Sorry. They’re not the most . . . practical.”

“Here,” Shouto said, offering you his arm. “Take them off. You don’t need them out here.”

Your face heated once again as you leaned on his outstretched appendage, fishing around in your skirts until you found your foot. Within moments, you were free, feet bare in their thin tights, discarded shoes unbuckled and placed neatly aside on the grass. The both of you found a stone bench nearby, and you sat side by side to help ease the strain on your feet. While you took this bit of a breather, you remarked to yourself how much taller Shouto was compared to you. The sight of how much he’d grown over the years, mixed with this newfound urge to rest your head against his broad chest . . . .

“Are you feeling better now, my lady?”

(Y/N). Your name was (Y/N). He could have just as easily called you as such, and yet, the formality set your heart aflutter.

“Yes, I believe I am. Actually, I’m feeling much better. This party was so dull until you happened upon me.”

Shouto’s smile returned, the slightest shine appearing on his upturned lips. “I haven’t enjoyed myself this much in a long time either. Thank you for accepting my offer to dance.”

You hummed and flashed him a genuine grin of your own.

He averted his eyes suddenly, a new tension gripping his shoulders. “I know we haven’t talked in years,” he began, “but if you didn’t mind, I would like to get to know you again, (Y/N). Our kingdoms aren’t too distant, and I would like to write to you sometime when I return home.”

Your smile widened. “That sounds lovely. I’d love to keep in touch with you.” You let your hand wander over to his, taking it up in your fingers.

Shouto smiled again at your touch, raising your joined palms to press another kiss to your knuckles. “I look forward to your response,” he said, lips brushing against your gloved fingers as he spoke, eyes locked on yours.

You could still hear the band playing in the ballroom. To the king, the night was still young, and the party would continue for some time longer. Within moments, you were on your feet again with him, twirling your body to the tempo of the strings and winds. With stars serving as your only audience, you danced with your newfound partner until the early hours of the morning under the light of a full hanging moon.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.

Taglist: @aahilovetheatre​ @heartpaw12​ @todoroki-waifu​ @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sokkasangel​ @xoxopam4​

[tcstu]

January’s Honorable Mentions

This month’s piece generated some incredible stories. I chose this work of art believing there were numerous tales buried within it, and I was not disappointed. Each entry took a completely different perspective on what is happening in this scene. If you enjoy one of the Honorable Mentions below, please let the writer know. I’m sure they would love to hear from you.

As a reminder, I celebrated the new year by featuring one of my favorite artists, @hydraart​​. If you’ve been following this contest, you may remember that this artist was also featured in January of 2019 and 2020. This seems to now be a New Year’s tradition, and I am happy to be able to continue it this year. If you would like to see the pieces previously featured by this artist, you can view them here:

January 2020

May 2019

January 2019

The piece for this month was titled, “Hide and Seek.” Here it is along with the Honorable Mentions for this month:

(These entries are listed in the order they were received and do not reflect a system of ranking.)

Untitled

Written by: @emilyelizabethfowl​

Ten

She couldn’t tell whether the breeze she felt came from nature or from Its wings.

Nine

At least she didn’t have to worry about the smell betraying her hiding spot.

Eight

Sound, however, was a different matter entirely.

Seven

But her legs were starting to feel numb…

Six

It certainly wouldn’t hurt to move them, just a little, would it?

Five

Just a teeny tiny little bit…

Four

Slowly, carefully, she stretched her left leg.

Three

Then, bringing it back, she stretched out her right one.

Two

But she did it too fast, too carelessly.

One

Losing balance, she fell down. Her elbow knocked into the giant sheet of metal she was hiding under, the sound carrying far.  

Zero

Barely seconds later, giant talons dented the metal, ripping it away easily.

Found you!

Aw, shucks.

She stood up, turning to face the creature.

“Best three out of five?” she offered.

It’s already past your bedtime. A deal is a deal.

Ah well. It was worth a try. She climbed the creature’s back, clinging tightly to the feathers longer than she was tall.

She’d win their next game for sure!

“Eleanor And The Great Bird”

Written by: @evanthenerd83​

“Do not move,” Eleanor whispers to herself, thin frame curled inward.

The flapping of wings drowns out her panicked breathing. Dust swirls around. Bits and pieces rain down, and they sound like bullet casings striking metal.

Eleanor could recognize the sound anywhere. It is as familiar as her grandfather’s wartime movies. Black and white visions of the dead.

“Do not move,” Eleanor reminds herself, eyes scanning the words scratched into the steel.

The great bird passes overhead, and the entire shard shakes with its might. She bites her lip. A moment of terrible silence.

It is circling around. Coming back.

“Do… not… move,” Eleanor repeats, unaware that it doesn’t matter.

The shelter is just a jagged piece of roof. It isn’t big enough to hide her, not all of her. Not her shadow.

And unfortunately, the sun is burning in her direction.

The great bird has locked on.

The great bird makes one last turn…

Sit Com

Created by @daalseth​ ( Doug Aalseth )

"Ma!!" came the anguished cry.

"What is it?" replied his mother, her voice drenched in fatigue.

"Billy smashed up my 172 scale model Medieval Human Village."

"Now Tommy..."

"It wasn't me," shouted Billy. "I wouldn't do nothing with your stupid model."

"Yes it was," shouted Tommy waving his wing at the table. "That's your feather laying right there."

"Nuh-huh."

"Uh-huh."

"Nuh-huh."

Their mother rubbed a talon against her throbbing forehead. It was going to be a long day. Maybe it was time to just kick the little bastards out of the nest? She looked at the two chicks arguing. "No," she said softly, "I'll give it one more day."

“Whatever It Takes”

Written by: @winterrose42​

I dug my fingers deep into the ground as I curled tighter into myself, squeezing my eyes shut in a vain effort to concentrate. This had to work- in the end it’s all I could do, whatever God that’s left forgive me. I could feel the beast looming impossibly large behind me, breath wuffing over the ruined plains like winds before a storm. A low growl thundered from its throat and I dug harder even as my fingernails protested and bent from the dirt being shoved underneath them. I couldn’t fail. I had to find them, and to do that I needed to make it out alive. To do that…

I felt it suddenly, claws slicing easily into the dirt deep enough that I’m sure someone could make a bomb shelter of it later. The tips of its heavy wings brushed the uneven ground, dragging stone and steel along as they swayed in rest. Feeling the pull of its head was the worst; it had seen me that much I knew, darting from toppled building to ruined tower to hastily put up shelter as  fast as my legs could carry me had not been fast enough. It’s great shriek had nearly deafened me as it shook the earth landing just a few yards away from where I had crouched. The few warriors who had gathered to head off the beast- they all knew in their hearts they hadn’t a chance of making it.

That’s what I kept telling myself as the beast’s arm raised and came crashing down to sweep away fallen debris and lean to steel sheets and scattered weapons, armor and men alike, leaving them to try and bury themselves yet again. Collect their wits and reorganize perhaps. I couldn’t afford to give them that chance. Setting everything in motion the wings swept back, the arms came up, the eyes focused forward, sharp beak opening wide with vocal chords straining to make its signature call- and so it was done.

All at once I severed the connection, feeling impossibly small and weak and useless once again as the ground shook like an earthquake with the speed at which the beast fell, screaming its indignation at being puppeted for as long as it had, intelligent eyes snapping forward to those running for better cover, myself sitting still and forgotten for the moment in light of more easily accessed prey. I covered my ears and closed my eyes, whispering out a prayer of forgiveness to carry on the artificial wind for those who cared to hear it.

Eventually the shaking ceased, noise quieted, beast placated if only for a moment making it possible to crawl out and stand up though I dared not turn around. Sticking to the irrational belief that my imagined carnage was worse and therefore I was absolved of blame I squared my shoulders and turned west.

I had survived and would continue to do so through whatever means necessary. I would survive. And I would find them.

Maran-do

Written by: @spoldhamindieauthor​ (S.P. Oldham)

Maran huddled beneath the toppled roof of a ruined dwelling, sitting now upon the ground, broken and battered. All of the buildings in this tiny hamlet told a similar story; one of destruction and wrath.

Maran heaved a silent sigh. He had sent out Maran-do, his mind partner, when the day was still bright, her task to bring down anyone he had not dispatched. Very few would be daring enough to try to evade her. It would take a remarkable being indeed to slip past Maran-do unnoticed, avoiding her wicked talons. He had never known it happen yet.

Maran-do hung in the air now like a dark, oppressive shadow. She had been the foretelling of death for so many souls, Maran had long since stopped counting.

He had never imagined she would foretell his own death, too. Maran frowned, trying to recall such a thing happening before. What could possibly cause a mind-partner to turn upon its host? It was unheard of.

He knew the tiniest movement would be enough to alert her to his whereabouts. Resisting the urge to break cover and run, Maran struggled with ordering his thoughts. That was the biggest problem. Maran-do was inside his head as well as outside it. She knew his own mind better than he knew it himself.

How could he possibly escape? Wherever he went, Maran-do would go with him. Why had she turned on him? In a rare moment of self-pity, Maran gave a sniff.

It was enough. He could feel the air outside shifting, darkness looming over his hiding place like an unstoppable, oncoming storm. For the briefest instant, Maran felt the terror and utter helplessness so many had known before.

A large talon tapped impatiently before him. Inside his head, the words ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are’ blossomed into life like clouds of puffed smoke, Maran-do taunting him with his own phrase.

“Why?” Maran breathed, “Why do you turn upon me?”

More words of smoke, ‘I am to be mind-partner to a greater one than you, little Maran,’ using the childhood endearment, ‘Your mind is weak. You take much pleasure from death and killing. I belong to a greater mind than yours,’ she repeated.

She raised her foot. Maran flinched as, above him, the beams and planks of the rough wooden roof began to splinter. Instinctively he crouched, making himself smaller, as if he could avoid being crushed.

He had just enough time to wonder how she could survive without his mind to host her. Then he was gone; snuffed out like a bare candle in a blizzard.

Maran-do stretched her wings, letting out a silent shriek as her head turned to the west. A new host awaited her, a new name forming in her mind even as she rose from the earth. A path of flight was shown to her fathomless mind, stretching like an umbilical cord across the skies.

Maran was dead.

So was Maran-do.

Tethered

Written by: @wildler

I heard the spirits before I saw them—their strangled moans carrying through the smoke-stained air. Carys whinnied beneath me, her ears twitching in all directions.

“Easy girl,” I murmured, stroking her neck. “Only a little further. Should be the next clearing.”

The sound continued, growing stronger as we pushed closer to where the village was rumoured to be. I tugged the hood of my cloak from my head, sweat sticking my hair to my neck. It seemed my limited healing skills had arrived too late to be of use—but my other skills—well, perhaps I would return to the king with something more substantial than rumours at last.

We entered the clearing, the devastation hitting me like a sword to the gut. Homes had been scalped, gutted and burned. Their charred remains left crumbling into the earth. Spirits inhabited the ruins. Flickers of human outlines that cried out as they relived their violent, final moments of existence. Their fear keeping them tethered to this plane.

I dismounted Carys and pressed my hands to the ground, shuddering as the sweat on my neck turned cold. A haze of panic blanketed the site like thick smoke, making it impossible to get a sense of the events leading to its ruin. I sank my fingers into the soil and focused my will, trying again.

Sounds and smells came rushing at me, distorted screams on a hot jet of air. My eyes sprang open to find the spirits staring in eerie silence, their gaze passing right through me to something on the horizon.

I heard the presence before I saw it—a monstrous shriek carried on a blast of flame.  It was an end too terrifying and binding to escape.

And so, I relive it again.

[fred-george-fic]

In the Middle Pt. 19

George Weasley x Reader & Cedric Diggory x Reader (Previously)

~Masterlist~

A/N: I’ve decided to start using my header as my picture for this fic, I also went more of a book route with this chapter instead of the movie route (where the Burrow gets burnt down).

Summary: George, Fred and Y/N go to the Burrow for Christmas.

Word Count: 2420

Warnings: Mentions of death, slight violence

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Christmas at the Burrow

The next few months passed by without anything eventful occurring at the shop. You managed to study and help out at the shop. George informed you in December that the store was to be closed on Christmas eve and Christmas day so that you all could spend quality time at the Burrow with the rest of the family. The twins and yourself ensured to go shopping before heading towards the Burrow, finding a blue witches hat for Molly as well as gifts for the others.

The three of you apparate to the Burrow and you ensure to say ‘Hello’ to the gnomes in the garden, which you always did when you visited. You knew they were pests, however they were fun to observe when you got the chance. George and Fred laugh as you lean over the fencing, the tips of your toes barely reaching the dirt below. You thought for a second, wondering if Charlie would be here, remembering the few times the two of you would sit out and watch the gnomes together.

The three of you walk into the house, taking account of all the people around, at least taking over the living room. A tall red-headed boy approached you with a wide smile, “Y/N!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s great to see you too, Bill,” You laugh, “I heard something exciting happened over the summer?” You and Bill always got along, as you did with all the Weasley’s. You saw him more around the Burrow when you were younger, but soon his career path took up most of his time.

“Ah, yes!” He said, motioning for Fleur to come forward, “I believe you remember, Fleur,”

“Eez good to see you again, Y/N” Fleur says, in her thick accent. “I am sorry about ze tournament,”

You give her a small smile, “Don’t worry about it,” Bill and Fleur go back to sitting by the fire as Molly comes into the room, pulling each of you into a hug.

“I am so glad you’re all here!” Molly exclaims, as she returns to frantically walking around the house. Ginny does the same, offering you all a quick ‘Hello’ before running off with her mother. The three of you walk into the kitchen to see Harry and Ron.

“-Fred’s left buttock –“

“I beg your pardon?” Fred says, as the three of you walk into the room, “Look at this, they’re using knives and everything!”

“Just you wait, I’ll be seventeen in two months and will be able to be magic for everything!” Ron yells as George and Fred both sit at the table and put their feet up.

“So, Ronald,” George begins, “What is this we hear from Ginny about you and a young lady called Lavender Brown?”

“Mind your own business,” Ron says, cheeks turning pink.

“Is that why Hermione isn’t here?” You ask, mostly looking at Harry who gives you a look seeming like yes.

“What a snappy retort,” Fred says, “How did it happen?”

“What d’you mean?” Ron asks, looking at his brother with confusing,

“We just want to know; did she have an accident?” George asks.

“What?” Ron says, the expression only worsening.

“How did she sustain such extensive brain damage?” Fred laughs before his eyes go wide for a moment, “Careful now!”

Molly walks into the kitchen at the exact moment that Ron throws the knife he was using to cut sprouts at Fred, who flicks his wand and turns it into a paper airplane.

“Ronald Weasley!” Molly yells, “I better not see you throw a knife again!”

Ron just gave her a sour expression and mumbles something under his breath before returning to the sprouts.

“Fred, George, Remus is arriving tonight, so Bill is going to need to squeeze in with you two,” Molly then looks over at Harry and Ron, “You two boys are in the attic since Charlie isn’t coming home,” and finally at you, “Fleur will be sharing with you and Ginny,”

“That’ll make their Christmas,” Fred muttered under his breath. You shoot him a look at first and then roll your eyes.

“Ready to go George? Y/N?” Fred asks, standing up from the table.

“Where are you three going?” Ron asks, “Can’t you help us with these? You three can use your wands!”

“No, can’t do that,” Fred says, heading towards the door.

“Besides, I would recommend not throwing knifes at people who you want to help you,” George says, throwing the paper airplane at him.

After the two boys walk out of the kitchen, you flick your wand towards the sprouts, peeling them within a few seconds. “How about we surprise your brothers with a snowball fight?”

“Thanks Y/N!” Ron says, running out of the kitchen.

“Coming Harry?” You ask, looking at the boy who is still staring at the sprouts.

“I’ll be there soon,” Harry says. You give him a small nod and walk out to grabbing Ginny, Bill and Fleur on the way out. Once you step outside, you see Fred and George already teaming up to throw snowballs at Ron.

“Ron, you could’ve at least waited for us before provoking your brothers!” You laugh as Fred throws a snowball at Ron, almost hitting him.

“So, this was your idea!” George yells, throwing a snowball at you but missing and hitting Fleur.

“Ah, if a snowball fight ezz what you want, zen I must retaliate!” Fleur yells, creating a snowball and throwing it at the twins. Harry eventually comes out and hides with Ron, while you and Ginny take shelter elsewhere.

The snowballs continue to be thrown around by each of the teams. You and Ginny seem to be doing the best with the least amount of direct snowball hits on yourselves and a good amount on the others. You watch Ginny create a snowball to throw at Harry while you create one to throw at George.

“One, two, three... THROW!” You yell, each of you aiming at the boys and throwing. Yours lands directly on George’s head, snow covering his once bright red hair.

“I’ll get you for the Y/L/N!” He yells, leaving his cover and charging towards yours.

“Come and get me Weasley!” You yell, running from the cover away from George. You can feel the snowballs being thrown at the two of you by the others and you try your best to outrun him, but suddenly you feel his arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you down into the snow. The two of you land in a soft patch where the snow puffs up around you as the two of you laugh.

You can tell the others are no longer throwing snowballs at you, but now at each other as you and George lay in the snow away from them. George looks at you for a moment and takes in your appearance, with your pink nose and cheeks, snow caught in your hair, and wide smile. He kisses you then, deeply as you feel the coldness of his face melts in with yours.

You hear the crack of someone apparating nearby and the two of you look up, only to find Remus making his way towards the house. The others follow him in, chatting happily.

“Guess that’s our que to go in?” You ask, looking at George.

“Let’s just make ourselves a home out here and live out the rest of our days,” George says, slowly getting up from the snow.

“If we could do so, without freezing to death, I would take you up on that offer,” You laugh, taking George’s hand as he helps you up and the two of you walk back to the house, hand in hand.

Everyone was sitting in the living room listening to Molly’s favorite singer Celestina Warbeck, while playing Exploding Snap with Ginny, Fred and George. You kept hearing the music get louder, assuming it was an attempt to drown out Fleur’s excessively loud talking. You could see Harry talking to Arthur, while Remus was staring deeply into the fire.

Fleur looks over at you, as you sit with your back against the wall, legs thrown over George’s lap and cards in hand. You notice her looking at you and meet her eye with a small smile, only for her to blurt out a question you were not expecting, “Y/N, ‘ave you two considered getting married?”

Your eyes widen suddenly and the question gains the attention from most people in the room. You were unsure if Fleur was just curious or if it was an attempt to draw the attention away from Celestina Warbeck’s music. George also was speechless about the situation, staring at Fleur.

“I uh-“ You try to collect your words, not wanting to offend George, but also you hadn’t really thought about it.

“We haven’t had that discussion yet,” George says, looking over to you and offering your hand a squeeze. You smile at him with a thankful look. That seems to satisfy Fleur because she turns back to Bill quickly. You knew Molly was looking at you, trying to see if that was a possibility.

The music continues to play in the silence until Celestina ends on a high note and Molly sings along.

“Eez it over?” Fleur says loudly, “Thank goodness, zat was ‘orrible –“

“Nightcaps, anyone?” Arthur yells out, getting up, “Eggnog?”

Once he leaves the room, the four of you take some seats on the couch. Arthur comes by handing you and each of the twins an eggnog. You all were chatting excitedly until you suddenly heard Fleur begin singing one of Celestina’s songs, only to see the glare on Molly’s face. Everyone began to excuse themselves, leaving George, Fred, Ginny and yourself in the living room.

You yawn loudly, leaning your back against George, holding your cup in your hand. The question Fleur asked you earlier has been raddling in your head since they came out of her mouth. Mostly wondering if that was something you would consider or were even ready for.  You look over at Ginny, who you assume was still down here to wait for Fleur to go to bed so she did not have to suffer through some idle conversation with her. George wraps his arm around you while he talks to Fred about something involving the shop and you make small conversation with Ginny as your eyes slowly drift shut.

You’re woken up a little later by George, who whispers softly as he tries to wake you. “Why don’t you head upstairs, love?”

“Too tired, I’ll take the couch,” You whisper back at him, curling into a ball in the spot George was once sitting. You see him smile at you before kissing you on the forehead.

“Alright, goodnight Y/N. I’ll see you in the morning,” He kisses you softly and you hear him go up the stairs and whisper a quick, “I love you” before climbing up.

-------

You woke up early Christmas morning and check the time reading 5 AM on the clock. There was something you wanted to do this morning and Fleur’s question the day before had only fueled the need.

You put on some shoes and a warm jacket and made your way out of the Burrow and head into a direction that you have only walked once before. You trudged through the snow, making your way up a beautiful hill before reaching a headstone, sticking out of the snow. You crouch down and brush the snow off revealing the name, Cedric Diggory.

You stand up, letting the light wind play at your feet and in your hair. You consider for a moment what would have happened if Cedric was still here. Would you two still be together? What would that have meant for you and George? Or even with Fred?

You look up at the sky and notice a few snowflakes coming down. You try and shake the thoughts and let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry Ced, I wish you were still here. But, I also need to move on and accept life for what it has given me,” You blink away the burning feeling that is occurring in your eyes. “Thank you for everything,”

You turn around and make your way back towards the Burrow, slowly stepping through the front door. You don’t see anyone right away, but you can hear voices coming from the living area.

“What do you mean she’s not in your room?” You can hear George’s voice, echoing through the wall. Slowly, you peak around the corner and notice him talking to Ginny, who’s standing there arms crossed.

“She never came in last night and all the bathrooms are occupied by other guests,” Ginny says rolling her eyes, probably meaning Fleur. “I’m sure Y/N is fine, George” Molly says, patting him on the shoulder, “Why don’t you help me with breakfast, so you’re closer to the front door?”

You smile for a moment, knowing George must be wondering where you were, especially since you never told anyone where you were going. Plus, Molly’s attempts to get George to help always makes you laugh. You take the final step around the corner and cross your own arms.

“I leave the house for a few hours and you’re already interrogating all of your family members?” You laugh, gaining their attention.

“Y/N!” George yells out, quickly closing the distance and wrapping you in a warm hug. You quickly bury your head in his chest, taking in his warmth. He takes a step back and holds your face in his hands, “You’re freezing, love,”

“It started snowing again,” You say with a small laugh, “It was beginning to get pretty cold.”

George opens his mouth, about to ask you a question, possibly about where you’ve been this whole time when Harry, Ron, Fred and Remus come down the stairs.

“Y/N, could you help with breakfast?” Molly asks, walking past the two of you and into the kitchen.

“Of course, Molly,” You look to George and give him a quick kiss, “I’ll talk to you later?”

He smiles at you softly, the worry seeming to leave his face a bit and nods his head, letting you follow Molly into the kitchen. You begin helping her with breakfast for a while and enjoy the rest of Christmas with the family. George doesn’t pry about where you went again as the two of you enjoy Christmas together and the three of you head back to the shop the next day.

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