#because what do you mean your son got a letter and you demanded to read it

[edettethegreat]

invading your kid’s privacy by going through their things? You mean the thing that got Gloucester killed?

[yaymiyas]

THE TALK

warning: yandere!isekai!crown prince, he is very mean in this, female reader

a/n: this is TECHNICALLY not a part two to the introduction but it sort of is….. it jumps from the conversation to the breakfast……..enjoy! ALSO ALSO ALSOOOOOOOO technically its female reader bc you got reincarnated blah blah

looking at the fragments of bacon he didnt want to eat, he let his fingers drum against the edge of the white plate. the fact that you, the daughter of a whore, lover to none, and nuisance to all, was right beside him made his food hard to swallow. the two of you sat in the dining room, and while he sat at the very end of the table with his back facing the door to the kitchen, your usual spot would be that of the opposite side. right across from him, back facing the entering door, but it seems after the poison didn’t hit quite deep enough in your veins, it did affect your brain because, for some reason, you thought it was brilliant to sit directly next to him. you weren’t as talkative as he would have thought of you, ever since you have learned of the activities he had decided to partake in, you started to demand his attention. at first, it didnt bother him much, since he himself started to believe that he was focusing solely on gracie that your suspicions were bound to grow, and grow they did.

for weeks, months, up until the poisoning you were all up on him. he was certain that you were attempting to skin him alive and wear him as a coat it was all mildly unpleasant but more irritating. saer never had a taste for you; rather, he actually hated you. to no one’s fault but his own fathers, he was forced to marry you out of pregnant promises. your father, sir tudor, wasn’t the poorest dope saer’s father has ever seen, but he was the loyalist. he worked on the gwynn estate, doing a multitude of things for the family, automatically gaining the trust of the duke and then the king himself. at the time, king gwynn was more fascinated with how a man with such little knowledge could become his most loyalist man, but that he did. following the pregnancy of both the queen and your mother, he decided that the best course of action was to marry his second unborn son off to the unborn daughter of a freeloader.

an icy shiver runs down saer’s back, forcing him to shake his shoulders and head. looking up from your half eaten plate, raising your head to the sudden movement. he was quiet the whole time, poking at the small slivers of bacon like they were the nastiest things on earth. you werent surprised that he wasnt talking; no, you were actually relieved. it wasn’t because he wasnt attractive or anything, he certainly does look like the main lead; its just the talk you had prior to the breakfast that was replaying in your head. cynthia and amanda didn’t give you much information, since, from the looks of it, they didn’t want to say too much. either their heads were on the line or yours were. you never thought about asking tily, even though she was the one that brought you down here. it just felt too weird knowing she was the one who weirdly had something against you. from your fading memories of ‘obsession falls’, you remember reading online forums and tweets about the whole thing. it seemed like the only real crime edina committed throughout the whole book was wanting her husband to love her. she did everything he had asked of her, from the way she talked to her style of clothing, even to what letters she can reply to. in olden standards, she seemed like the perfect obedient wife. this might have been your first mistake, but you didn’t read too much on saer or his backstory, so you never really understood the reasoning for his hatred of his wife, but you knew it was deep and it was boiling.

clearing your throat, you believed it was a better time than ever to clear the air and get to your point. you never understood why edina allowed things to get as deep as they were, but she was made just to be killed. it sucks that no matter what you do or say, saer will always hate you because you are edina.

“saer,”

“ae.”

that stupid nickname. shutting your eyes tightly and fighting back against any light to seep through, you sighed heavily. the whole time, saer had been watching you carefully. even though it was from the corner of his eyes, he was indeed trying to calculate your next moves. it was kind of silly that your sudden change in physical response is making him antsy, but how can anyone fault him? the last time the air-headed cunt decided to change the way she was reacting, gracie was suddenly engaged to alastair and smiling in his face about it. it was enraging. other than the fact that you were in his life to begin with, knowing that the reason he couldn’t slit the throat of his ex best friend was all because you decided to breathe. those two minutes were the longest two minutes of his life. he watched as your head dropped down on the table, making a very sudden and loud noise with it. saer had sternly told any and all servants to leave the two of you be if any loud, disruptive noises were heard. he even double checked that he sent your nosey maids, cynthia and amanda, home around that time. he knew that if they were present in the building, you weren’t going to eat that poison.

it was infuriating to watch them care about someone as lowly as you. not just them, anyone. reading gracie’s letters, asking how you’ve been and to see you before she even utters a word about him, was beyond hurtful. it felt as if his whole world was falling apart, all because you decided to have superpowers and not die. this was the only way to get back at you. he has tried strangling you. he has tried slaying you. each attempt was caught by either maid, cynthia, or amanda. it made him sick to see you get dotted on. seeing the frilly outfits they were making you wear, as if you were a porcelain doll not worth anybody’s touch. you were disgusting. a disgusting being that deserved to die. so why. why were you here? why were you looking at him like he had done something wrong. 

“enough with the causalities, i would like a divorce saer.”

[seeking-elsewhither]

Currently woozy but guess who watched the Umbara Arc in one sitting

I'm in my Rex feels right now, because Anakin remarks that Rex used to be very uptight like Dogma which implies that it took Rex some time to ease up. And he's the only blonde in the GAR, a cosmetic "defect" sure but he's also a gen 1 clone. He must've struggled so hard to ensure he wouldn't get decommissioned, must have stuck to the rules and followed orders to the letter just so he'd survive.

And here comes Krell demanding about his insubordination. Threatening against it. Don't tell me Rex wasn't thinking of his cadet-hood when Krell called him by his CT number. My man was going through it.

Tangent!

Okay, see, the thing is, when I watch the clones, I can literally see the times their past life on Kamino and their cadet-hood bleed into their present behavior.

Take Hunter, for example, when he's quietly doing as Shand tells him to in s3. I wonder how many times he's had to comply as a cadet for the sake of his brothers' safety.

Take Crosshair on Tantiss, resisting torture at every step of the way. Maybe he was trained for it. Maybe he trained himself for it.

Take Omega on Tantiss, keeping herself busy, never once giving up hope. I wonder if that's how she lived in Nala Se's private lab, always hoping to reunite with her brothers and eagerly waiting for a chance.

Basically, I've always felt like tcw and tbb give us the past of the clones implicitly in their behavior. Or maybe that's just me reading too much into it.

Okay, back to Umbara

@margindoodles2407 from whatever I've seen of Fives so far, your analysis is spot-on.

Even Jesse's far more chill than him.

And HARDCASE MY BELOVED <333

Please, he's such an optimistic feller. He would've loved Hevy, Cutup, and Wrecker.

I was cheering every time Fives got to say a bad word on Krell.

Love how the episode moves from Rex bending under the weight of Krell's nature until he decided he could take it no longer and snapped upright. "It's Captain, sir."

Rex and Fives are such father-son, I swear. Such first and second-in-command, what with all the times Rex pulls Fives away to talk with him.

Okay, so Tup is officially the baby of the 501st, right? And by baby I don't mean he acts like one, I mean he's the vod'ika that every clone will coddle because he's new, even if he does murder in cold-blood.

Rex giving off huge eldest son vibes with his "I have a duty to protect these men."

Hate that Rex had to stoop that low and use the "They're not just clones. They're men!" rhetoric. As someone who firmly believes where you come from should have no effect on your worth as a person, this irked me as much as it must've irked Rex and the other clones.

Petition for Fives to deck Krell.

I mean, yeah Dogma gets him good at the end, but Fives should have got the chance. He knew just what Krell was going to be like from the first moment he saw him. Retribution would've been sweet (neither the Christian nor the Jedi way, but c'mon! we all hate this guy)

What sort of hologram is that? With cubes and stuff? It looks so cool, but why is it like that?

Is tcw just going to constantly test Rex's beliefs the entire time? First Cut, then Fives.

Hardcase and Fives laughing and giggling as they flew in those Umbaran ships and blasted the enemy had me crying because they're so happyyy :')

Sorry but Krell calling Rex by his CT number those first two times is hilarious, how do you keep a straight face and say it like that?

Rex, on the other hand, seemed like he was traumatized on so many levels.

Fives is just. So brave, so bold, so fearless. He stands for what he believes in, he will not bow down or cower in the face of adversities. He's got that touch of recklessness, but there's an air of sternness and cleverness about him. He knows what he's doing. He's the madness to his method.

And he's a poet. No take backsies. Some of the best speeches have been given by him. He literally used the word "ire".

He's like a knight of yore. He's got the chivalry, the nobility, the honor, the courage. He's unflinching, he will look death in the face and slay it with his bare hands.

Even at his end, the speech he gave was not with his life in mind but the lives of his brothers.

You've heard of great men, you've heard of good men. And then there are men of high valor like Fives.

Rex's uncertainty is obviously meant to stem from his awkward stance as the bridge between Jedi and clones, but I can't help but see him thinking of his time when he was another defective clone cadet trying his best to survive.

Hardcase why'd you have to gooooo

That reveal, that tear running down Waxer's face, the little Numa painted on his helmet, I'm gonna cry.

Dang, wouldn't want to cross Tup.

"You sound just like Krell." I'd rather be shot with a blaster than be accused of mirroring that demagolka.

When Krell refuses to call for Kenobi, I just knew Rex felt the sinking feeling that he was going to be on his own.

Krell's freaky because throughout the entire thing he never once shows the signs of being a Seppie. Sure, his hatred for the clones is as clear as day, but otherwise, you never realize it's him.

That's all I have for now. Margin, feel free to add on, because the last time you did, you managed to cover stuff I'd been thinking of but had forgotten.

[fromkenari]

A mass of fools and knaves

The full email exchange between Alex Claremont Diaz and Prince Henry Fox Mountchristen Windsor from Chapter Nine of Red, White and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston. Put here for my best friend to read.

A mass of fools and knaves A agcd@eclare45.com                8/10/20 1:04 AM to Henry H, Have you ever read any of Alexander Hamilton’s letters to John Laurens? What am I saying? Of course you haven’t. You’d probably be disinherited for revolutionary sympathies. Well, since I got the boot from the campaign, there is literally nothing for me to do but watch cable news (diligently chipping away at my brain cells by the day) and sort through all my old shit from college. Just looking at papers, thinking: Excellent, yes, I’m so glad I stayed up all night writing this for a 98 in the class, only to get summarily fired from the first job I ever had and exiled to my bedroom! Great job, Alex! Is this how you feel in the palace all the time? It fucking sucks, man. So anyway, I’m going through my college stuff, and I find this analysis I did of Hamilton’s wartime correspondence, and hear me out: I think Hamilton could have been bi. His letters to Laurens are almost as romantic as his letters to his wife. Half of them are signed “Yours” or “Affectionately yrs,” and the last one before Laurens died is signed “Yrs for ever.” I can’t figure out why nobody talks about the possibility of a Founding Father being not straight (outside of Chernow’s biography, which is great btw, see attached bibliography). I mean, I know why, but. Anyway, I found this part of a letter he wrote to Laurens, and it made me think of you. And me, I guess: The truth is I am an unlucky honest man, that speak my sentiments to all and with emphasis. I say this to you because you know it and will not charge me with vanity. I hate Congress—I hate the army—I hate the world—I hate myself. The whole is a mass of fools and knaves; I could almost except you … Thinking about history makes me wonder how I’ll fit into it one day, I guess. And you too. I kinda wish people still wrote like that. History, huh? Bet we could make some. Affectionately yrs, slowly going insane, Alex, First Son of Founding Father Sacrilege

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 239-241). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Re: A mass of fools and knaves Henry hwales@kensingtonemail.com                8/10/20 4:18 AM to A Alex, First Son of Masturbatory Historical Readings: The phrase “see attached bibliography” is the single sexiest thing you have ever written to me. Every time you mention your slow decay inside the White House, I can’t help but feel it’s my fault, and I feel absolutely shit about it. I’m sorry. I should have known better than to turn up at a thing like that. I got carried away; I didn’t think. I know how much that job meant to you. I just want to … you know. Extend the option. If you wanted less of me, and more of that—the work, the uncomplicated things—I would understand. Truly. In any event … Believe it or not, I have actually done a bit of reading on Hamilton, for a number of reasons. First, he was a brilliant writer. Second, I knew you were named after him (the pair of you share an alarming number of traits, by the by: passionate determination, never knowing when to shut up, &c &c). And third, some saucy tart once tried to impugn my virtue against an oil painting of him, and in the halls of memory, some things demand context. Are you angling for a revolutionary soldier role-play scenario? I must inform you, any trace of King George III blood I have would curdle in my very veins and render me useless to you. Or are you suggesting you’d rather exchange passionate letters by candlelight? Should I tell you that when we’re apart, your body comes back to me in dreams? That when I sleep, I see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when I wake up in the morning, it feels like I’ve just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined? That I can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache? That, for a few moments, I can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all? I think perhaps Hamilton said it better in a letter to Eliza: You engross my thoughts too intirely to allow me to think of any thing else—you not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream—and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness. If you did decide to take the option mentioned at the start of this email, I do hope you haven’t read the rest of this rubbish. Regards, Haplessly Romantic Heretic Prince Henry the Utterly Daft

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 241-243). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Re: A mass of fools and knaves A agcd@eclare45.com                8/10/20 5:36 AM to Henry H, Please don’t be stupid. No part of any of this will ever be uncomplicated. Anyway, you should be a writer. You are a writer. Even after all this, I still always feel like I want to know more of you. Does that sound crazy? I just sit here and wonder, who is this person who knows stuff about Hamilton and writes like this? Where does someone like that even come from? How was I so wrong? It’s weird because I always know things about people, gut feelings that usually lead me in more or less the right direction. I do think I got a gut feeling with you, I just didn’t have what I needed in my head to understand it. But I kind of kept chasing it anyway, like I was just going blindly in a certain direction and hoping for the best. I guess that makes you the North Star? I wanna see you again and soon. I keep reading that one paragraph over and over again. You know which one. I want you back here with me. I want your body and I want the rest of you too. And I want to get the fuck out of this house. Watching June and Nora on TV doing appearances without me is torture. We have this annual thing at my dad’s lake house in Texas. Whole long weekend off the grid. There’s a lake with a pier, and my dad always cooks something fucking amazing. You wanna come? I kind of can’t stop thinking about you all sunburned and pretty sitting out there in the country. It’s the weekend after next. If Shaan can talk to Zahra or somebody about flying you into Austin, we can pick you up from there. Say yes? Yrs, Alex P.S. Allen Ginsberg to Peter Orlovsky—1958: Tho I long for the actual sunlight contact between us I miss you like a home. Shine back honey & think of me.

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 243-245). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Re: A mass of fools and knaves Henry hwales@kensingtonemail.com                8/10/20 8:22 PM to A Alex, If I’m north, I shudder to think where in God’s name we’re going. I’m ruminating on identity and your question about where a person like me comes from, and as best as I can explain it, here’s a story: Once, there was a young prince who was born in a castle. His mother was a princess scholar, and his father was the most handsome, feared knight in all the land. As a boy, people would bring him everything he could ever dream of wanting. The most beautiful silk clothes, ripe fruit from the orangery. At times, he was so happy, he felt he would never grow tired of being a prince. He came from a long, long line of princes, but never before had there been a prince quite like him: born with his heart on the outside of his body. When he was small, his family would smile and laugh and say he would grow out of it one day. But as he grew, it stayed where it was, red and visible and alive. He didn’t mind it very much, but every day, the family’s fear grew that the people of the kingdom would soon notice and turn their backs on the prince. His grandmother, the queen, lived in a high tower, where she spoke only of the other princes, past and present, who were born whole. Then, the prince’s father, the knight, was struck down in battle. The lance tore open his armor and his body and left him bleeding in the dust. And so, when the queen sent new clothes, armor for the prince to parcel his heart away safe, the prince’s mother did not stop her. For she was afraid, now: afraid of her son’s heart torn open too. So the prince wore it, and for many years, he believed it was right. Until he met the most devastatingly gorgeous peasant boy from a nearby village who said absolutely ghastly things to him that made him feel alive for the first time in years and who turned out to be the most mad sort of sorcerer, one who could conjure up things like gold and vodka shots and apricot tarts out of absolutely nothing, and the prince’s whole life went up in a puff of dazzling purple smoke, and the kingdom said, “I can’t believe we’re all so surprised.” I’m in for the lake house. I must admit, I’m glad you’re getting out of the house. I worry you may burn the thing down. Does this mean I’ll be meeting your father? I miss you. x Henry P.S. This is mortifying and maudlin and, honestly, I hope you forget it as soon as you’ve read it. P.P.S. From Henry James to Hendrik C. Andersen, 1899: May the terrific U.S.A. be meanwhile not a brute to you. I feel in you a confidence, dear Boy–which to show is a joy to me. My hopes and desires and sympathies right heartily and most firmly, go with you. So keep up your heart, and tell me, as it shapes itself, your (inevitably, I imagine, more or less weird) American story. May, at any rate, tutta quella gente be good to you.

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 245-247). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

[deepspacedukat]

*smokebomb*

*stealthily enters and drops this letter in your inbox… 👀* just dropping in😂 (also hi fren! ily!💙💙💙💙💙), okay one they totally shouldn’t have dropped the Jarok and Beverly thing and had him be Wesley’s dad. It would be awesome if it added another layer to Wesley like “…so this is why I never felt like I’ve truest belongs and are always kinda searching” like he’s always felt more at home on the starship from a standpoint that Beverly left out the fact that Wesley was half romulan, like didn’t tell him that fact. Also this is my opinion however your write is up to you, but what if jarok still goes through with it and tries to commit suicide from the standpoint of his “only” family sees him as a trader because romulans mostly have that klingon/cardassain mentality of we are the best people and life outside our people doesn’t matter or his romulan life/family doesn’t matter.

But maybe Jarok survives because Beverly gets to him intime to save the romulan and at this point Wesley has figured it out and demanded to know that yes Jarok is his father. So while everyone is standing outside the medical room discussing and Beverly is part of the debrief. It’s Wesley at Jaroks beside going through the emotions of bitter happiness/relief (if I understand myself better now and found some of what I’ve been searching for, a mission piece of me, even if I didn’t know what it was) anger (how could you abandon us? Abandon me?) and sadness (of I most likely could loose you and never got to talk to you) type thing. So Wesley is just there bedside and deep in thought not realizing that Jorak is coming to and the romulan looks over at the young boy, who he sees a lot of Beverly in but his looks of concentrated contemplation is one he recognizes and after a moment almost jolts in shock. He’s seen that look in his own reflection…eventually Wesley notices he’s being observed and his throat tightens, sudden his mouth goes dry, he’s always wondered what it would be like getting to meet his father and what he would say all the years of feeling abandoned and anger yet a part of him still wants his father to accept him (even though Picard has more or less taken him under his wing). But all Wesley manages to force out at Jarok is a simple “why?” (our romulan mans has some serious soul searching, earth shattering thinking to do now 😂)

OMG HIIIIII!!!! ILY FRENNNN 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

I completely agree, they really shouldn't have dropped the Jarok x Beverly pairing. They SO had amazing chemistry. (Also, I might already be, uh...2000+ words in to my Bev x Jarok fic... 👀 )

This Jarok is Wesley's father idea is SO BEAUTIFUL. I would so read a novel length version of it!!! I mean, omfg, the ANGST, the EMOTIONS!!

I would so love the idea of Jarok seeing Wes and immediately being like 👀 "Oh. He's MY boy. I...have a SON." My heart! OMG

[the-firebird69]

Last Words Of Captured Teenage Cartel Hitman #cartel #crime #shorts

The max I'm going to set this guy free on to the population and they wanted our son to see it my son says what are your demands and the guy didn't say anything they said we cannot bow to want on terrorism and the guy started flipping out and he's going what kind of things do you about to this is a cheap Chrysler Cordova so he said I have to get out of this and he's trying to back pedal and they were going to have the guy we're not into the general population and they've been doing this because he was armed with anthrax canisters and he stopped doing here the guy here is ordered it and threatening me and one of their Max warlock trumpster head guy Trump goes by with it every so often and he said this I sort of get that so he took the guy apart his vest and everything put him into a cell scanned him and said what exactly do you want to do about this and he said I don't know what do you want to do and he didn't know who he was and we do so after a while the kids people found in me and it was today and it was a trick by John remillard and it's a stupid one... He has robots in his stashes and caches and he says people are going to trigger their use and what we say is we know what your program is and Max and others like us country counter it and they're shielding doesn't work and we know what you're using

Thor Freya

Olympus

I got to tell you Trump you are a f****** idiot I told you a million times I had 10 times what you have if you're not more and it shut it down pretty quick thank you it was nothing I've had enough of you these things don't do well you don't have their programs you don't know the place is even down there for years screwing around with your fat ass up in the air having everyone to look at your butt I mean Jesus Christ you are an animal he doesn't care for that s*** at all from any of us and the woman especially says you take your dirty s*** elsewhere I mean this is really rude what you're doing is very crued and stupid is gross. He says you're going to see celestials up front in person and get sick you going to be possessed and think it's you you're going to find out it's not and I guess they have to go through each of the 100 points down the list and do it completely backwards to make you understand it and I know what he means it's your profile that has to be reversed but then you'll think you're in reverse I mean Jesus Christ you're such a weird loser Billy Hicks and he says get him out and use him as a punching bag so he can stop talking all this gobbily evil s*** and waste of time and it's harassing yourself and a lot of people do it or harassing ourselves and this guy is not worth it use them as a punching bag get him up there to read the letter get him to Tennessee have him go to the Moon I don't care what people do with them just do something.. and I agree we have to do something

Tommy f

I need Mrs ladish AKA Trump to go elsewhere

Zues Hera

It's been half a day he's waiting for court and his huge pain in the ass and stuck to him like glue is a f**** we need him out it's disgusting I want him out

Thor Freya

Olympus

[hellofeanor]

Fëanorian Quenya

Hey friends! Do you like elves? Do you like the Silmarillion? Do you like Fëanor and co? And most of all, do you like spending hours thinking about minor details pertaining to made-up languages??? If so, boy do I have a treat for you! Let’s delve into the weird world of Fëanorian Quenya and explore some history and mechanics of why they talk Like That.

I’ve seen a lot of posts joking about the Fëanorian lisp, which is about as funny as a joke about a speech impediment can be. 👍 It’s important to understand, though, that this IS a joke. No, they didn’t really speak with a lisp. Yes, they did pronounce some S sounds as TH. That’s the critical disclaimer here: SOME. It’s not a blanket pronunciation. There’s a lot of background research that goes into determining which words would be pronounced with S and which would be TH, and that’s what we’re going to look at.

So if this is something you’ve come across in fandom and you’re not totally sure on the details, or if you ARE sure and just want some more in-depth info, read on.

The stuff probably everybody knows already

For anyone who’s been hanging around the Fëanorian corner of the Silm fandom for more than three minutes, there’s about a 100% chance you’ve heard of Fëanor’s penchant for retaining an archaic TH pronunciation after the majority of the Noldor went ahead and started pronouncing this sound as S instead. You may also know that this sound is represented by the letter thorn (Þ) in HoME, but since thorn doesn’t exist in modern English orthography and it’s a pain to keep typing the ALT code, I’m sticking to TH here. Anyway, all this was due to the fact that Fëanor was a huge mama’s boy, and his mom Míriel Therindë (later called Serindë, which made Fëanor want to punch walls and possibly also fellow elves) was an outlier who retained the TH after it fell out of use. Her son Fëanor, in turn, kept this up to honor her. Now, whether or not he would have bothered if this sound hadn’t literally been a critical part of her name is debatable, but that debate is outside the scope of this essay.

Fëanor continued to use the TH pronunciation until his death, and required his sons to use it as well. Finwë, however, switched over to S after the death of Míriel and before his marriage to Indis. Fëanor, reasonable and level-headed as he was, took this as a personal insult and decided that anybody who rejected TH likewise rejected him. So presumably, his loyal followers would have obeyed his totally reasonable demands not to give in to the seductive S-shift.

Why tho

Why did the Noldor decide to alter their pronunciation from TH to S? Great question. Nobody really knows. For the hell of it? IDK. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But the important thing to understand is that elves, and especially Noldor, were really committed to making sure their language sounds cool. This is why it changed so much and so comparatively quickly for an immortal population: they were actively invested in changing it. They liked inventing new words and exploring new sounds and messing around with grammar.

So at some point some influential Noldo might have been like, hey y’all, let’s stop saying TH and say S instead! And everyone (except Míriel I guess, who was known for her elegant manner of speech and didn’t want to muck that up by changing pronunciation of a whole letter) was like, whoa, capital idea my good egg. And they went with it. Previous ideas along these lines included ‘hey y’all, let’s stop saying KH and say H instead’ and ‘hey y’all, let’s stop saying Z and say R instead’, and those went over swimmingly. Nobody could have foreseen the problem this TH to S business would cause.

Now here’s a fun fact. There was another change to Noldorin pronunciation that happened AFTER Fëanor’s birth, that he himself was involved in. This one was all about bilabial to labiodental F. And those sure are some words, so if you don’t know what I’m talking about (I don’t blame you), BILABIAL is a more whispery sound that happens when you say F using only air passing through your pursed lips, and LABIODENTAL is when you say F with your top teeth touching your bottom lip. Going forward I’m going to use PH to represent the bilabial sound, and F for the labiodental.

So F got on the radar of the Noldor via the Teleri, who used this sound in their language. And ol’ Fëanor figured it would be awesome to incorporate it into Quenya because he thought the PH sounded too close to HW, and the two were getting confused by lazy speakers. Why did he care? Because of his dad’s name and his own, of course. If people started to get lazy in their pronunciation, we’d end up with Hwinwë and Hwëanáro, which would be terrible and stupid and unacceptable. He accused the Vanyar of leaning down that road, and he wanted to stop that kind of shift before it happened to the Noldor. How to do that? Why, by instigating a different shift from traditional Noldorin PH to Telerin F!

“Hey y’all, let’s stop saying PH and say F instead!”

“Whoa, capital idea my good egg.”

Moral of the story: Fëanor is only concerned with Quenya pronunciation insofar as it affects his own name and the names of family members he likes. He does not care whether it’s staying the same or moving to a new sound so long as it personally makes him feel good and his name sound cool. Therefore the true way to piss him off would be to call him Curuhwinwë Hwëanáro, son of Serindë.

Okay so here’s how it works

Now that history is out of the way, let’s get back to how TH was used by the Fëanorians. As I mentioned earlier, TH wasn’t a blanket pronunciation. It all depended on the original form of the word, and whether the root had a TH or an S. And some very similar-sounding words come from different roots, so this can get tricky. A great resource that’ll give you this information is Eldamo: Quenya words where the S was originally TH are marked out with the Þ (thorn) symbol in the wordlist.

Some examples:

Súlë (spirit, breath) comes from the root THŪ, which means it would be pronounced with a TH. Silma (white crystal) comes from the root SIL, so it and related words like Silmaril would be pronounced with an S. No Fëanorian would say Thilmaril. Isil (moon), however, is a similar-sounding word that comes from a different root: THIL. Olos (mass of flowers) comes from the word LOTH, but: Olos (dream) comes from the root LOS. Fëanorian pronunciation would immediately differentiate between these two words.

While Fëanorians may have retained the distinct pronunciation of TH vs S, other Noldor can still differentiate between original S and S-that-used-to-be-TH in their writing. There are specific tengwar to use depending on the word’s original form. Silmë (the one that looks like a 6) is used for original S, while súlë (or thúlë, the one that looks like an h) is used for original TH.

Which other elves used this sound in their speech?

Fandom has really latched on to this TH as a Fëanorian thing, but it wasn’t that exclusively. The TH sound was actually ubiquitous in other elven languages, and in Valinor, only the Noldor dropped it. It was still used in Telerin and in Vanyarin Quendya. The Vanyar retained the TH not because of anything to do with Míriel, but just because they were a little more conservative and their language didn’t pick up on all the changes that the Noldor made. They also noped out of the Z to R shift the Noldor initiated, opting to keep the Z around.

When Indis married Finwë, she stopped using the normal Vanyarin TH and switched over to S as a gesture of loyalty to him and his people. Finarfin, however, out of love for the Vanyar and Teleri, switched BACK to TH. I like to think about how much it would have annoyed Fëanor that his snot-nosed kid brother was speaking correctly, but for the wrong reason. Go down one more generation, and Galadriel very specifically did not use TH. But this time it was absolutely a choice made as a glaring middle finger to Fëanor.

What this means for your fanfic or whatever

The big takeaway here: you can’t just have Fëanorians replace every S with TH and call it a day.

If you’re inventing names for your Fëanorian OCs or coming up with phrases for them to say, it’s important to look into the history of all Quenya S-words you end up using to determine if they should be S or TH. If Fëanor got mad about somebody saying Serindë instead of Therindë, he’d get equally mad about somebody saying Thilmaril instead of Silmaril and assume they were mocking him. Remember: this is a dude with no chill. (On the other hand, if you WANT somebody to be mocking Fëanor, Galadriel would 100% do this because she has an equally negligible amount of chill.)

It’s also important to note that the TH isn’t a true shibboleth, since pretty much all elves EXCEPT the non-Fëanorian Noldor use it. And even the S-preferring Noldor would still be able to pronounce the TH. Those who went into exile would go on to use it commonly in Sindarin, and those who remained in Valinor would still encounter it among the Vanyar and Teleri. So if you’re writing a scene where somebody has to pronounce a TH word to prove their loyalty… yeah, everyone can pass this test. And in the opposite direction, you can’t use TH to prove somebody’s an evil Fëanorian, either. They might just be Vanyarin or something. Or, like. Really Old.

Would the sons (and followers) of Fëanor keep using TH after his death? Oh hell yeah. This is an entire family unfamiliar with the concept of not dying on hills. They will keep using it unto the ending of the world. Actually, with Sindarin becoming the common language of Middle-earth from the First Age, probably not a lot of change happened in exilic Quenya. It became a lore language: a piece of living history. It would have been preserved as it was when the original speakers left Valinor.

(And then, thousands of years later, Galadriel finally returns home to Tirion like, Long have mine eyes awaited this most blissful of sights, and ne’er hath my sprit soared with such grace, for I am returned! And all the Amanyar Noldor stare at her like, whatchu bangin on bout, eh? Because they had nothing better to do in the peace of Valinor than push Quenya to brave and frankly questionable new horizons.)

Anyway, there you go: a somewhat brief history of Fëanorian Quenya. I hope you found this informative and useful, or at the very least not boring. Obvs this is super condensed and, uh, not particularly scholarly, but I promise I know what I’m talking about. I have a university degree! (Not in anything even remotely related to what’s written above, but I hardly see how that’s relevant. It’s still a DEGREE.)

Questions? Need clarification or want more info? My asks are always open!

[starlitangels]

Baby Names

So... I’m not gonna lie, this one was actually a bit difficult for me to write. At least the introduction. Because I really wanted to keep Angel gender-neutral... so I had a hard time figuring out how to keep it general that Angel and Davey were... acquiring(??? for desperate want of a better term) a child (pregnant? Surrogacy? Adoption? I don’t know. That’s up to the reader’s preference, I suppose. That made this difficult). That said, this is prompt number 2 from @welcometohelllosers’ ask, and it was also fun. Regarding Angel and Davey finding out they were gonna have a boy and coming up with naming him Gabriel. I expanded just a little because Natalie in the back of my mind was demanding to be included 1.4k words (short but sweet)

—

“So, I got the results back today,” I said as Davey sat down with me at the dining table.

He perked up, the exhaustion from the day vanishing. “And?” He scrunched his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to make me throw a gender reveal party, are you?”

I snorted. “Nah. We’ll do what we’ve always done with news. Update the pack Facebook group for the older members, and the Discord for the younger ones.”

Davey chewed the inside of his cheek. “So?”

I smiled and held up the envelope. “Thought we could open it together.”

He picked up his dinner knife, that he hadn’t touched yet, and held a hand out. I passed it to him, letting him slice open the top fold quickly. We were both holding our breath. “Ready?” he asked.

I nodded.

We pulled out the letter, unfolding it together.

“‘Dear Shaws,’” Davey read aloud. “‘We are pleased to inform you that your child is going to be—a boy.’” My hand raised to my open mouth. Davey and I met each other’s gazes. Our eyes were misty. We both smiled through our gasps at the same time.

“We’re having a boy,” I whispered. “A little boy!”

Davey nodded. “Well... I guess... now that we know... we can start actually brainstorming names. I know we were planning on waiting until we got the results.”

I nodded again. “We’ll think about it,” I agreed. “Now let’s eat before the food gets cold. I’m starving.”

“Same.”

We were both so excited I was fairly certain we’d lost a fair portion of our appetites. But that was okay. It was worth it to find out we were going to be having a baby boy.

—

Ping!

Facebook: David Shaw made a new post in Shaw Pack Private Group “Good evening, everyone. My mate and I are happy to share the news with you all. We got the results today. We’re going to have a boy. Thank you for your time and all of your well wishes. We appreciate all of you.”

Ba-ding!

Discord: DavidShaw01 in Pack Server “Hey everyond. If you didn’t already see the Facebook group post, my mate and I found out we’re having a boy. We wanted to let you know. We love and appreciate all of you. Thank you for all your support.”

—

“Elliott?” I suggested, looking over the top of my Switch screen at Davey.

He made a face. “No... what about James?”

“I’ve known too many people named James,” I said.

“Hmph,” Davey grunted. “Logan?”

“He does not need to be bullied about Wolverine for the rest of his life as a wolf shifter,” I returned. “Bryan?”

“No. Doesn’t fit. Aaron?”

“No. That was my old boss’ name at my first job,” I said emphatically. “I mean, he was a good guy and all but no.”

“Understood,” Davey said.

“You never realize how many people you can’t stand until you have to name a child,” I muttered.

“That’s turning out to be more and more true.”

We fell back into silence for a while. I kept building a tavern in Minecraft for the village I’d claimed as my base. Davey went back to his paperwork that he’d been looking over.

I knew exactly what I wanted to name our son. I just didn’t know how to broach the subject to my mate.

“Davey?” I asked tentatively. “I know what I want to name our son. I just don’t know if you’ll agree.”

He scrunched his eyebrows and looked over at me. “What do you mean, angel?”

“I want to name him Gabriel,” I said.

His pen went slack in his hand. He stared at me. When my expression didn’t change, his softened. “You’re serious.” It wasn’t framed as a question. It wasn’t one. I nodded.

“Why?” Davey looked gobsmacked as he asked.

I shrugged. “Well... I thought we could honor your dad, and make sure his memory lives on in our family. Plus it’s a cute name and we know that there’s nobody we dislike with that name—quite the opposite in fact—and I figured it would be a good fit for him. And then we could give him your name as a middle name, ‘cause that’s usually a thing ri—mmph!”

My Switch was suddenly on the coffee table and Davey was kissing me. Hard. Hands holding either side of my face. Warm. Callused. Gentle. Solid. Safe. His hands were almost big enough to palm my head like a basketball. Not quite, but almost.

“I think that’s the best name for him,” he breathed. Tears fell from his eyes, sliding into the paths created by our faces being pressed together. “I love you, angel. And I can’t wait to meet our little Gabriel.”

“Me too,” I replied. “And I love you too, Davey.”

—

“I don’t care what Marie says about him looking like me. He’s forty-five-hours-old. He looks like a squished potato,” I said to Davey as we settled Gabriel into his crib. “But he does have the beginnings of your nose.”

“So you’re saying Colm was right?” Davey asked. “He looks more like me?”

Milo’s parents had apparently been in a competition with Asher and his mate (and their five-month-old daughter, Evelyn) on who would leave our house last. When we were getting home and the front of the house was surrounded by cars, we knew the whole pack was waiting inside. And David bemoaned telling Asher where we hid the spare key. “That was supposed to be in case of emergencies,” he’d grumbled. To which I had to remind him that Asher absolutely would declare us bringing our son home an emergency.

And, to be fair, the pack hadn’t stayed long. Just enough that everyone who wanted to got to coo at and hold Gabriel and congratulate us. While Milo and his mate were trying to keep their one-year-old daughter in her half-napping state. 

“No. Colm wasn’t right. He doesn’t look more like you. He’s forty-five-hours-old. He looks like a potato, Davey.”

David chuckled, holding me around the waist, looking down at our son in the crib. “Glad your assessment of our son is so positive,” he said softly.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t think he’s our beautiful boy, it’s just that all newborns look like potatoes. I mean, they were all squished up in the womb for nine months, of course they’re gonna be a little pinched.”

That earned me an amused smile. “I guess... that’s... fair,” he said. He held me closer to his side, looking down at our baby boy. “I’m... glad... we named him Gabriel. I think it suits him.”

I smiled. “Me too.”

—

One Year Later...

“Angel!” Davey called as he came into the house from the garage. I looked up from where I was bouncing Gabriel.

“Hey, Davey,” I greeted. “What’s up?”

He held up something white in his hand. “Got the mail.” He smiled. “Results are back. I thought you could read it this time.”

I gasped lightly and went over to him, still holding Gabriel on my hip. Davey held out his hands for our son. We swapped who was holding what. I tore the envelope open and unfolded it.

“‘Dear Shaw Family,’” I read aloud, holding the paper a little closer to my face so Davey couldn’t read ahead of me. “‘We’ve received the results of the blood test and are happy to inform you that your child will be... a girl!’” I beamed up at Davey. “A baby girl, Davey! We’re having a little girl!”

David let a tear slip out of his eye. “What are we gonna call her?”

“Well, Gabriel was my idea. What do you think we should call our baby girl?”

Davey pressed a kiss to my forehead, and then to Gabriel’s hair. He’d been born with dark hair, and the older he got, it got lighter. It was almost as blond as Davey’s had been in the childhood pictures he’d shown me. If Gabriel was anything like his dad, his hair would get darker as he grew up, like Davey’s did. Gabriel already had David’s green eyes.

“I was thinking we could call her Natalie. Sweet name for a sweet girl.”

“Natalie Shaw. I like it,” I said with a smile.

[missdawnandherdusk]

Hufflepuff!Muggleborn Extensive Dating A Malfoy Headcanons:

Okay so this got very long very fast but I apologize for nothing.

So you’re pretty much terrified of getting your Hogwarts letter because you have no idea what magic is but now you’re a wizard???

You go anyway and see a blond little boy at Diagon Alley with his parents and his mother has the same list as your dad does

So maybe you follow the little boy around and pick out the things he does because he seems to know what he’s doing

Then you heard his father hiss “disgusting mud blood” your way and your face kinda falls because you thought maybe you found someone who could help and we’ll never mind

Your dad takes your hand and snaps at Lucius “what kind of example is that for your son? No, I’m not one of your lot but you shouldn’t take it out on my daughter!”

Draco peeks out from behind his fathers robes and looks at the tears in your eyes and maybe he does feel a little bad

You absolutely adore your wand

At the station a few older years can tell you’re new and very Muggle in your tshirt jeans and converse that they sort of adopt you one of them being Cedric

You’re not so scared anymore because it seems like maybe these people aren’t so bad

Some kid named Fred buys you a Chocolate Frog and his twin warns you about their sentience

You meet a few other first years and Hermione Granger whos also a muggle and you sort of lament about all of it. She’s super excited because there’s so much to learn and you start to adopt her perspective

You see the boy from Diagon Alley sneering and bullying other kids and you go up to him with the same fire in your eyes that you dad had and tell the boy off a-al-Muggle

He just laughs and scoffs but you don’t back down which scares him because everyone always backs down

Big brother Cedric comes over and tells Malfoy off for calling you a mudblood again and ushered you back to a compartment of other Hufflepuffs and someone explains to you the house system

“Well that’s kinda stupid,” you decide “why should we be separated based on what a magical hat thinks we might be?”

Cedric grins at you because you remind him of himself and stands clapping when you’re sorted into Hufflepuff

Momma Sprout helps you so much because she knows that her muggle born kiddos need the extra comfort and encouragement

You have Herbology with the Slytherins and that meant Draco Malfoy his name was rattling around your head since the Sorting Ceremony

You end up partners with him. You’re shy and quiet and he’s dismissive and snappy.

“Draco you shouldn’t—“ “Don’t tell me what to do! Filthy little mudblood.” You sit back and watch the Doxy bite him “well get help!” He demands “I thought you didn’t want a mudbloodas help,” you snap. He gives you a hopeless look and you administer the antidote and produce a Bandaid “stupid muggle bandage”

While he’s sulking you handle the Doxy properly and show him how it’s done without being snotty about it. Maybe you smirk at him when you catch him leaning in and watching closely

It’s not friendship but he doesn’t call you mudblood anymore so... there’s that

Cedric nearly has a heart attack when he asks about your first day and you tell him about Draco

You find your footing at Hogwarts and though you’re not the best in class you can still do magic and it’s SO FRICKIN COOL MOM I MADE A FEATHER FLOAT TODAY

You chat with Draco thoughout the year in class well you talk to him he doesn’t say much. “And my mom was so proud when I told her about the Goblin wars and my dad wants to see me leviosa a feather but I told him I can’t do magic outside of school...”

Then there’s a quiet “your parents are proud of you? And interested in all this stuff?”

You look at him, mystified and “...yes? They’re proud of whatever I do,” Draco looks down and continues to sketch the bowtruckle which is almost life like on how accurate it is

You write to your parents immediately asking them to send a letter to Draco and tell them all about his really good drawings in Herbology

It takes a few days but one morning Draco comes up to you in the Great Hall with a parcel

“I think this is yours, your stupid owl gave it to me” he sulks. “It has your name on it,” you point out. “But why would your parents...?” You shrug and go back to talking to your friends and reading your own letter from your mother. Draco huffs and mutters something under his breath and walks away

In Herbology he has a new set of very Muggle graphite pencils and a proper sketchbook and he’s just sketching the Mandrakes on the desk when you come in. He doesn’t say anything and neither do you. He’s less irritable now

It’s second year and you hug your parents and go say hi to your friends before finding a compartment for the long journey. You swap muggle candy for magic candy with your friends

Draco passes your compartment and you wave. He gives a half smile and keeps walking.

“You like him!” Your friends exclaim. “What? No! I don’t!” You turn very red. “He’s just a friend!!” No one is convinced

This year you have potions with Draco and you’re freaking out inside because you don’t know what you’re doing and Snape seems to have it out for you and you’re just a mess.

Draco volunteers to be your partner “to show this mudblood a little decorum and how things are properly done.” He scoffs

You look down, embarrassed but as soon as Draco is next to you, you hear a quiet apology.

You understand the charade he has to put on but you wished he didn’t and you really wish he’d stop calling you mudblood it was rather annoying

He helps you through potions like you helped him through Herbology. This year you have Herbology with the Ravenclaws and he has it with the Gryffindors. He totally whines to you all the time about Harry

Once he’s complaining and accidentally puts in the wrong ingredient and the entire thing threatens to explode. Before you know it, you’re on the ground under Draco who pulled you and the remnants of the potion is shielded from you because Dracos robes are draped over you

Snape scolds you for being stupid and you start to protest but Draco confesses that it was him mistake, not yours. Snape just eyes the pair of you and walks off.

“Thank you,” you stammer out. He rolls his eyes but there’s a soft smile on his face.

Boy does Draco flip out when he hears about the Chamber of Secrets because you’re in potential danger and he would willingly sacrifice Granger to keep you safe

He mentions that to you in Potions one day and you gap at him. “Draco killing anyone for any reason isn’t right.” You scold. There’s a cold look in his eyes and a fire in yours. “But... thank you... for worrying about me,”

Your friends still pester you because they can obviously see you like Draco and maybe you do... but you know he doesn’t like you so you’ll just ignore your feelings

Third year comes and your heart skips a beat when you see Draco because he grew a lot over the summer and his hair is no longer ridiculously slicked back and oh Merlin you’re in trouble

Unbeknownst to you Dracos heart flutters when he sees you and has to fight the urge to wave or say hi to you in front of his father.

This year you have History of Magic together

He sits down next to you without a second thought. You smile and say hi and ask about his summer and then he returns the question. Your muggle summer and his magic summer are both a bit lost on the other

“Didn’t you wear glasses?” He asks one day. “Oh, my mom let me get contacts,” “contacts?” “Um... like plasticy little doodads that go in my eyes and help me see?” He just stares and you laugh. “Too Muggle?” You ask. “Too Muggle,” he replies.

Now it’s a sort of game. Youll come in with something Muggle—Pens, notebooks, lined paper, Muggle books, a watch—and Draco decides whether it’s “too Muggle” or not for him. He quite likes pens and lined paper but you can keep your Muggle books

You tell your parents again and Draco gets a package filled with green notebooks and black pens and a pencil pouch with a snake on it.

You hear about the Buckbeak incident and you rush off to find Draco. He’s in the infirmary snapping at Pomfrey but softens when he sees you

“She’s just trying to help,” you scold softly. “Are you alright?” “Doesn’t hurts much anymore but it’s numb so...”

Pomfrey wants to keep him a few hours to make sure that his body is reacting to the medicine correctly and you stay with him.

“You know I’ve been thinking,” you start. “That’s scary,” he mutters. You hit him playfully and notice that he flinches so hard you note it and continue “I’ve been thinking that it really doesn’t make sense for you to call me a mudblood,” “and why not?” He snaps. “Well, I mean... I’m technically all muggle. If anyone was really a mudblood wouldn’t it be halfbloods? With a muggle and wizard parent?”

He doesn’t have an answer to that. So he sulks quietly. “Why doesn’t it bother you that I call you that?” He asks quietly. You shrug. “Sometimes I wonder if I really belong here. Your adamant hatred for me is comforting. Like I’m doing something right enough to make you upset about it.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that either. He didn’t know that you were insecure about being a wizard. Of course, you belonged here you were wonderful with magic and your hexes were remarkable.

“I don’t hate you,” he mumbled. “Sure you’re annoying with your cheery disposition and your... Converse trainers... but I don’t hate you.” You laugh and he thinks it’s a wonderful sound

“Well, I don’t hate you either,” you smile back. You don’t think it’s something but it’s definitely not nothing

You hear about what happens between he and Hermione and you’re furious because he’s better than that and you can’t believe he would still call her a mudblood

You refuse to talk to him for a few days. Which is hard because he tries to make small talk with you.

One day in class he slips you a folded piece of parchment and you open it. Begrudgingly. “Im sorry, I was an arse. I shouldn’t have called her that.” You take your pen and scribble quickly “you’re apologizing to the wrong person.” And slide it back to him

Draco did apologize to Hermione before he apologized to you and he’s frustrated because he thinks you’ll think he’s lying if he said he already did

Then Hermione finds you in the hall that day and asks if you put Draco up to apologizing to her and you admit yes you did. And she tells you that he apologized a few days ago. Your heart soars and you hug a confused Hermione before running off to find Draco

He’s in the corner of the library, not reading, but drawing. You accidentally sneak up behind him and see that you’re the sketch on his paper.

“I don’t think my hair is quite that long,” you whisper softly and the boy about jumps out of his skin. You apologize quickly and he quickly covers his sketch book, red faced.

“I um. That wasn’t you.” He stammers turning a darker shade of red. You laugh. “Yes it was!” You reach for his sketchbook but he hugs it to his chest. “Oh come on Draco? What am I gonna do? Laugh?” “You’re laughing right now.” He points out. “And it’s not that good anyway...”

You roll your eyes and sit next to him. You offer to pose for him so that he could take his time to draw you. “Well I’m not busy now,” you grin and he sulks a moment before nodding.

You watch his hands work and sift through the pencils as he props the paper up on his knees and instructs you to look somewhere and not to move.

It’s odd, being drawn. You close your eyes and hum softly knowing he was studying you the way he might a bowtruckle or mandrake and it feels weird. A good weird.

He refuses to let you see the drawing even though you persist. You pout and drop the matter, just glad to have a friend in him.

You begin meeting in the library on a weekly basis, partly so he can draw you partly because you’re both struggling in History of Magic and need more study time

Cedric is not happy about any of this and goes very “protective big brother” on you. You tell him off and huff.

You start going to his quidditch matches and maybe he almost runs into a goal post because you smiled and waved at him and he forgot to pay attention

The summer comes and you wave goodbye knowing as soon as he’s around your father you’re going to lose your fried.

But he surprises you and hands you his sketchbook on the train home then quickly runs away to his father and you just stare at it and him and he’s gone, all you see is two heads of silver blond hair receding in the distance

Your parents usher you into the car and it’s maybe two hours before you get to look at the sketchbook

When you do open it you see a sketch of a bowtruckle and “Steve” written one his careful script underneath. You had forgotten that you named the bowtruckle Steve that day in class

The next few sketches are from Herbology. And little notes about class that day, a lot of them are about you. Then there’s a break in Herbology drawings and there’s a drawing of his mother almost perfectly. Then of a family portrait of the three of them. A few vases of flowers. Then you see your face. And again. And again. It’s you. Smiling, laughing, concentrating on a book, raising an eyebrow at him, gnawing in your lip, asleep in class, then the library drawings that are much more detailed.

Then you’re crying and you want to call him and thank him but you CANT BECAUSE HE DOESNT HAVE A PHONE STUPID WIZARD FAMILY

But you do have an owl. You have no idea what to write. So you go with “thank you” and then send it.

You get a letter a few months later and it’s from Draco. He’s asking if you want to go to the Quidditch World Cup with him. “I know you’re Muggle and don’t like Quidditch much but...”

So you’re going with Draco and it’s weird because he’s on your doorstep with his mother and it is just a clash of worlds. You stammer goodbyes to your parents and you’re quickly ushered into the limo of a car next to Draco. You notice he’s changed his hair again and he looks quite dashing in his blazer. You get a little self conscious about your jeans and sweater.

Narcissa is a doll. She asks you about your summer and time as Hogwarts and keeps polite conversation and you thaw a little.

Though you have no idea what’s going on Draco is very excited about the game and is cheering and you can’t help but smile and maybe you take pictures with a Polaroid camera and he just rolls his eyes and you get a picture of him rolling his eyes

Fourth year comes and he is ushered away from you by his friends before he can say hi.

The kids from the other schools show up and you’re convinced that he like Fleur and he thinks you like Cedric and it’s just a mess

He’s back to being irritable and you’re slipping into depression not just because of him but everything is really weighing on you

You’re alone in the Astronomy Tower, your feet dangling off the edge. You had no intention to jump, but it was sort of thrilling. 

Draco flips the fluff out and nearly drags you from the edge. 

“What the hell are you thinking!?” He exclaims. You gape at him because it’s probably the first thing he said to you in a week. He’s just so scared that he was actually going to lose you that he pulls you close and doesn’t let you go. You start crying and everything just comes out in a word dump. Your brother is getting worse and stronger and it’s not good for you and he keeps putting you down and calling you a freak and that “no one is going to love me because I’m a freak and mom and dad think I’m fine because my grades are still fine but Draco I can’t... I’m slipping and... and I feel like I lost you and you were the only one who really believed in me and...” You’re just sobbing.

And he listens. He holds you and listens. 

“You haven’t lost me,” He whispers softly. “But you like Fleur... and I can’t ever be her... she’s just so perfect and powerful and...” You sniffle, hugging your knees looking at your beat up Converse. 

“She’s my cousin,” He almost laughs but doesn’t because of the look on your face. “And what about you and Cedric?” He raises an eyebrow and you blanch. “He’s like a big brother to me, gross,” You shove his arm and you’re both laughing. 

“There’s only one Hufflepuff out there for me,” He takes your hand and hello butterflies and blushing. “And there’s only one Slytherin for me,” You lay your head on his shoulder and watch the stars. 

You two start dating and Merlin his friends are livid because how dare he date a muggle hufflepuff? But then they watch him with you and it’s hard to deny that Draco is truly happy for once and they don’t want to take that from him

Your friends exchange bet money. 

Weekends filled with more games of “Too Muggle” and trips to Hogsmeade and Draco explaining wizard culture and you try to explain muggle culture but he just does not understand washing machines. You introduce him to muggle music and is thrilled that he loves ABBA. 

He makes everything hurt less. And it’s nice to feel wanted. 

Then Voldemort returns and everything changes and you weren’t ready for it. Draco gets cold and distant again and you try and try to get through to him but he doesn’t let you in. 

You end up screaming at him one night and walk out. He finds you curled up outside the Slytherin portrait, weeping not minutes later and carries you back inside to his dorm and apologizes and hold you and admits that he’s scared and he doesn’t want to lose you or see you get hurt

You both make an effort to find the sunshine in the proverbial dark times that linger through the next year. It means you become a but more calloused and jaded and he becomes a bit more optimistic and grateful. 

Pansy Parkinson doesn’t exist. It’s just you with Polyjuice potion to keep you safe from Draco’s aunt and Voldemort. It’s an easy charade to keep up. There are still quite nights when you’re yourself with Draco and he reminds you how much he adores the real you with his words and touch

If there’s one thing you don’t do, is break a Hufflepuff and that’s what Harry did after his sectumsempra and holy hell do you lose your cool.

Draco’s mother has to step in before you’re expelled for what you did to Harry

You nurse Draco back to health afterwards and never let Harry forget what he did, nor do you let anyone else forget it when they call him the chosen one

And Merlin does Draco love you for it

Draco can’t kill Dumbledore because your words are still in his head from second year “It’s not right to kill someone for any reason” and he just can’t disappoint you like that

You’re still kind. You’re kind to Luna when she’s locked up at the Malfoy Manor. You’re kind to the house-elves that attend to you. You’re kind, and value fairness and hardwork, but you will not put up with bullshit any longer. 

You and Draco stand with Hogwarts when the battle boils down to it. You give Draco your wand when he loses his to Harry.

When you go back eighth year, you advocate for the removal of the House System and write a very convincing argument against it. It takes about ten years, but the system is disbanded after one too many close calls and ruined lives

You also start a Support Group at Hogwarts for those suffering from mental illnesses and for those who have suffered abuse at home. 

You and Draco get married at the Manor. You wear your Converse. 

.

Want to read a more in depth Hufflepuff!Reader x Draco? Find it Here!!!

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Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87@artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522  @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie @xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @darcypottah @atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread @atomicwonderlandmentality @okaydraco @the–queen-of-hell @langdonzvoid @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing​ @tulippings​ @thestressedprincess​ @sunflowerxsadnessw​ @caps-wilsonn​ @fattycooter​ @angelotakunerd08​ @thisisahugemistake​ @fanficsigottaread​ @gweaslvy​ @okaydraco​ @strawberriesonsummer​ @ughjjloveme​ @honeymarvel​  @gaysludge​ @cleopatera​ @ray-of-sunrise​ @artist-bby​ @shadowsingeraxolotl​ @peters-legos​ @quillsareforwriting​ @ghostlytoadalmondhairdo​ @wollymalfoy​ @lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats​ @floweryjh​ @sdicapriox​

[helloblobbyblobfish]

A plant boy in space

Synopsis: Later down the line, when Jason is a recognized vigilante of Gotham, he gets a membership in the JLA. The meeting with new heroes doesn’t necessarily go well.

We really don’t use enough the fact Superman’s first choice of a hero for his son to turn to if he is missing is Nightwing. or how much everyone in the Titans, which means many powerful and well-recognized heroes, is ready to follow his orders. And I heard there is a story where he just has to ask for every hero to go inside another dimension, without explanation???!? Like, Dick can basically get anything he wants, at this point? He is THE leader of the super community! Why isn't this more often seen in fanfic? (Or maybe I just didn't read the good stuff. Recommendations welcomed)

This idea for this chapter came to me when writing chapter 1, about a meta Jason's encounters with the rest of the superhero community. There are plenty of stories not yet written that happened between "an apprentice flower boy" and this. But don't worry, nothing is really needed to know.

-

It was Dick who proposed that Jason join the JLA.

“It's this week that the annual selection for new members is happening. I have quite a lot of say-so in the hero community. Don’t worry, Jayman. They probably won’t even ask for precisions about you if I ask if you can join.”

Jason, reading The American Gardener, laughed and answered: “Right, Dickie-Bird. Your opinion is definitively over the bick scary bat’s in terms of importance in the eyes of Superman, The Flash or Martian Manhunter. Can you get me the autograph of Wonder Woman too?” You know. As a jest.

Too busy reading about petunias, he didn’t notice Tim and Damian's worried looks, nor did he care much about Bruce’s growl. “Jason.”

“What? Let your golden child have his fun!”

Because Bruce followed Dick who suddenly had a call to pass, Jason focused again on his reading. 

Bad idea.

The following day, Jason was gifted with an actual, mother-of-all-that’s-holy autograph from Diana Prince “For Jason. Heard you’re one of my longest-running fans. I asked Etta. You wrote quite a few letters to the Holiday Girls. WW”

The teasing Dick was giving him and the outrage of Damian for him playing favorites with another hero than their father was totally worth it.

What was harder to swallow was the hologram of Superman.

“Hello, Red Hood. We received quite a generous amount of praise and demands for you to join the Justice League. We are thrilled to announce to you that, of the eight people with voting power, seven accepted you. We would like for you to join the JLA as soon as possible to get an identification code. Thank you very much.”

Jason turns towards the awkward dark knight in a corner, who seems to be looking at anything but the main event. “Do NOT tell me if you voted for or against me. I don’t know which one I would prefer or dislike the most.” Despite the cowl, it’s easy to tell the protector of Gotham is sweating.

Tim is looking at him with a look of pure terror. Jason’s brain is having too much info thrown at him at the same time, so it takes a distraction.

“Is that my tea in your mug?” 

Tim knows when to pick up his fight and runs. Dick grabs Jason by the shoulder. “As the one who asked for you to join, I think you can go with me, Jace. So, grab your suit. Try to keep your guns hidden, though. To be nice.”

Jason is so baffled by the idea Dick of all people can just push a minor, murderous vigilante on the JLA with no problem to disagree. Were he in full mental capacity, he would be picking the most obvious weapons he has.

But he is baffled at the idea of joining the biggest team of heroes on the planet, so he puts on a good suit. "You look silly, hood." Well, he decided to keep the full mask. He definitely would look better if it was the glasses/lower half mask combo he had when he tried to take over the penguin's empire. But… He got nothing.

He should have tried to find that outfit again, even if it would be a bit scary. He also decided to bring one of his leather jackets. But the odd contrast between the blue tie and the brown leather, plus the fact it's actually fairly warm on this space station, means it's now resting on his left shoulder.

Jason was part for a short time of the titans way back before Ethiopia, and followed the batman on JL-related missions as Robin, but. Ehhhhhh.

He is really at a loss for words with dickie-bird's latest stunt. And there are so many people here. Cybords, metahumans, "normal" vigilante folks, aliens, a true who's who of the important heroes. Plastic Man is talking to Black Lightning while Elongated Man is busy showing off to Vixen and Killer Frost. Wait. Isn't he dead?

Dick is too used to meeting many heroes from everywhere and walks somewhere else while leaving Jason alone, stunned.

Too scared of going somewhere he isn't supposed to, Jason stays dumbly in a corner, trying to look for someone who might have heard of him.

Suddenly, a lantern notices him and fly in his direction. She has papers in her hands, so he hopes she can help him.

"Hey, I'm Jessica! I'm one of the lanterns of sector 2814. You mustn't be around a lot for me to never have seen you. That's great, actually! I did a paper to fill in for more unknown heroes, here! You aren't forced to write anything if you want." She hands over the convoluted list. Everything besides "hero name" and "powers" are optional to fill, but you have everything from city to relationship status to pronouns to planet of origin and even a paragraph to talk about your nemesis.

"Do you… have a pen?"

"OH! Sure! Here!"

As Jason is contemplating the [questionnaire] like it's the most terrifying thing ever, his batfamily brain looking over each word and doing [dissertations] over what to answer and how truthful being, shouts when the bat's voice rings in his ears.

"Hood, what are you doing? Where is Nightwing? Do you need me to show you where the meeting will be?"

Given how worried Bruce's voice sounds, Jason reaches for his com-link, but turning his head makes him realize the bat is there, looking like he is trying to calm a feral beast or reassure a crying child. He's the one most likely to cry.

Behind Damian the gremlin, of course.

The lantern doesn't seem surprised Bats knows what his name is. Paranoïa aside, He does have one of the more impressive files on every hero around, and would know everyone allowed to go on the watchtower satellite.

"Oh, so Hood is one of the new members you guys are picking? For him to actually be brought onboard days before the end of the selection, he must really be impressive. Well, I'm leaving you two. Don't worry, Hood. You can keep the paper and the pen. Fill what you want later but don't forget to give me back the final form!"

"The… The full name is Red Hood." Jason mumbles weekly.

Bruce quickly looks over Jason's suit, smooths an invisible wrinkle, and then moves fast, checking regularly if his son is still following.

Jason hears him whisper.

"Never should have trusted Nightwing to not get distracted… Hope the others won't be annoyed if we're late…."

He turns towards him and speaks louder. "You've got it, Hood. Don't worry." Well, see bat-mom is the more worried one. Seeing the poorly-disguised affection does help Jason feel better.

When they arrive in a more solitary corridor, Nightwing is clasping his hands.

"Sorry, little wing! I didn't notice you weren't there anymore!" Batman starts running past him. "No time. Meeting begins in 10 minutes!"

"Half the others aren't there yet, B!" Jason doesn't care and sprints too. Bruce slams a door open.

"Sorry we're late!"

Red Hood takes a look. Around a half-circle, Wonder Woman, Superman and Captain Marvel look shocked.

Sups is the first one to speak up. "You… aren't. Late. I mean. You okay, Bat? You usually hide your feelings better."

Since Jason forced Bruce to confront his affection cravings, he does show them more, The Red Hood thinks. Maybe he still hides what he has in mind from his colleagues?

Barry Allen shows up, bringing Cyborg and Aquaman with him. "Great, we're just waiting for John, then!" The speedster happily claps.

The Martian Manhunter's name is JOHN?!? What?

The manhunters enter the room by phasing through the wall. He shows very little surprise. "We can start. Really, it is just formalities."

Jason can't hide the surprise in his voice. "Really, I'm just getting a membership? I was thinking about how to give a good impression. I find it hard to believe the biggest heroes would want me." He was trying to think about arguing his approval, but he wasn't sure if it was to prove himself or contest. 

"And that lantern chick said the trials didn't end." Jason looks at his hands, glad his mask allows him to pretend he is looking straight. "I-I'm s-s-sure there are more deserving heroes. I'm not sure how y-you ever heard of me."

The martian speaks. "Don't worry, red. I read some of your thoughts as I entered. You seem like the type of heroic figure the JLA represents." Jason would beg to differ, but he is too overwhelmed by the kind words.

"Anyway!" Captain Marvel said, "How about we explain to our new colleagues what's expected from him?"

Right. He is a child in a man's body, according to Bruce's notes. Not the best type to hold a meeting between superpowered beings. Get bored easily.

Batman flops on his seat with a movement of the cape to not sit on it. Given the round stools they have here, he looks out of place and ridiculous.

Wonder Woman is the next to speak, holding a card with a picture of his hero self on it. Where did they get that? Does she know Red Hood is that Jason Todd fan?

It's hard not sweating when you have the world's mightiest heroes -and Batman- in front of you, all their eyes on them.

She, uncaring or oblivious to Jason's freak-out, states: "Red Hood, you are bestowed one of the mightiest awards a crime-fighter can receive. Starting today, you are a famed member of the League of Justice. You are now protecting Gaia and all her citizens. We expect you to always be ready to help if we ask for your assistance." She gives a reassuring smile.

"Anyhow, here is what you gain access to, as a new member." 

Jason's brain suddenly catches something. Did Dick tell them he wanted to join?!!? The PRICK!!!

-

Once the "ceremony" is done, Jason is eating with other heroes. Of course, every member of the family that has watchtower access is here. Kyle Rayner decided to make him a party hat. The glowing green thing is silly. Thankfully, this is exactly what Jason needed to not crumble under the weight of his impostor complex.

He looks like the clown he is feeling he is. Bruce is making soft circles on his back to calm him.

Superman, sitting in front of them, has a smile that spells doom.

"So," he innocently asks "Hood. I was wondering when Nightwing proposed a guy from, I quote, 'around Gotham' as a new member. So I took a quick peek under that hood. And of course, there is how Bat is acting towards you. Are you a former Robin?"

Jason, who is drinking his meal thanks to the new open hole in his helmet, almost spit it.

Bruce seems ready to lie, but Red Hood blurts "y-yeah" too fast.

The flash laughs. "Man, usually they are resisting a lot more!" He hit his knees. "Did your brothers force you? I have a hard time seeing a Robin wanting to join the JLa."

Wonder Woman is offended. "How could you be the only one to vote against his inclusion?!? He is your son!" She then looks horrified. "Oh no! Hood, you didn't have to join if you felt forced! The JLA is a great honor, but we won't force anyone to join!"

Jason tries to calm his idol. "NO! Don't worry! I wasn't forced or anything. I didn't expect to get on your radar and I'm afraid it's only because Nightwing and maybe others asked for me that I am present, but I'm glad to be on the team!"

The demi-goddesses show relief on her face. Jason makes a side-glance at Bruce. So he is indeed the one who didn't want him on the team. Was it because he knew Jason wasn't asking to join or didn't look ready to play with the big boys and girls? Issues regarding his willingness to kill? Shame? Fear of looking biased towards one of his boys?

Unaware of his internal struggle and the still at times shaky family dynamic, the heroes are having fun. Dick's flash, how do they refer to one another without using names, Jason wants to know, asks:

"Oh come on! He has so many teen sidekicks! Come on, 'wing, tell me who's the favorite child!"

Damian answers immediately. "Me".

Dick has a much different answer. "Red Robin."

Tim gags. "Hell no! It's either you or Hood!"

Jason gives his opinion. "I say the OG robin." He can distinctly hear several "And who's that supposed to be!?" In the background. Poh. Amateurs.

Barbara plays it coy. "It might just be me…"

Bruce slams his hands on the table. When did he get on the other side of the table? He looks at all of them. "The second batgirl."

Barbara and Dick are too shocked to speak, their mouths big enough you could fit two grenades in each. Damian is horrified he isn't the favorite. Jason is more confused by the title.

"Black Bat?" Dick comes to his senses. "I think it's Orphan.", Dickbird retorts. Tim shakes his head. The guy didn't even look shocked at all. "No, she went back to batgirl, I think. Maybe the Spoiler should take another mantle? Batwoman is taken, there are two other active Batgirls, spitfire is around, guys, do you have any ideas? It's getting kind of lame she didn't change her title in a permanent way."

Dami's unimpressed. "Say the guy who kept Robin in his title." I nod. "Still better than Drake." Everyone who knows shivers.

The two superboys look at each of the bats. "Who's she?" They ask in unisson. Damian is annoyed. "You don't meet her or you're going to find her more cool than le and betray me like father." I pat his hair. "Learn to share, little bird."

The punk says: "The hot mute chinese chick? Cas-" Bruce looks murderous and Sup's little brother shut up. Red Robin and Oracle whisper at the same time. "They dated for a very brief moment!"

Dick murmurs: "Didn't Tim and him also-"

Impostor shouts. "What? No! Well, there was that one-"

Punktonian shushes him. "Superhumans, remember? We hear you guys' words like you're shouting them. And we swore to never speak of it again, Rob!"

"I don't want to know about my siblings' love life!" Who shouted? Was it Jason himself?

Given the stares he was receiving, maybe.

To distract himself, he starts to fill the form Jessica gave him.

Babs signs under the table. “S-T-E-P-H back bat-girl. Talk together.” Ouch. Tim looks mortified.

Suddenly, Tim's speedster, and why was Jason the only Robin without a speedster friend, shows up. "HyeTimnicetomeettyou!Howareyou?I'mfine!" Then he sees Jason. "Whyishehere!!!!Hetriedtokillyou!"

Gasps all around the table. Timothy's reaction is to point to Damian and says: "He attempted murder too!" Classy, Tim. That actually makes it worse. Jason groans mentally.

The not-so-tiny-Superboy is alarmed. “Da-Robin!”

“I was young and wanted to prove myself!”

“By murdering another hero???” It’s as blatant as with Captain Marvel that this “man” is a child in an adult’s body. Why do they live such a life? Why does everyone try to recruit kids into danger?

Jason simply states. “I died once. Made me grumpy when I came back to life. My apologies. Now, I only kill some villains.” That silences everyone.

Swamp Thing comes around. Jason blinks to make sure of what he is seeing. “Alec? What are you doing here?”

The representative of The Green smiles. “Well, I am a member of Justice League Dark. Like you, I presume?” Bruce scoffs. “He doesn’t have magic.”

Hammond laughs. “Really? Now, I would need to know where your son learned enough about the All-Caste and the All-Blades to mimic the blades perfectly and how he mimicked summoning them from his blood.”

Jason jumps on him as Bruce, Dick and all the rest are asking questions of concern.

-

What other heroes think Batman is like: A figure of stoicness, followed by a series of almost cultist-like in their obedience, hyper-competent and almost inhumans beings of perfection.

What Bruce actually is: A tired emo dad crying on the inside as his childrens bite him to escape his protective arms and go fight crime.

And now I have the image of a poor bat in a corner, surrounded by cats in tiny costumes meowing, swearing violence against the people who made their dad sad.

[redrosesartcabin]

Kenji x first perspective female reader:

Things happened

—————————————————

(Hey, how is it going peeps! This was requested by @xxno-0xx . I hope you all, and especially the requester, like it. Only one warning: It involves some swearing, so if you don’t like that don’t read. If the requester doesn’t like it, please tell me and I’ll edit the story! Also: The story plays somewhere either between season 2 and 3, or somewhere around season 3. Though not in a canonical episode)

It’s crazy how things sometimes happen.

A very vague description, I know, but it’s the only way I can convey how I feel.

Things happened that made me have the opportunity to go to Jurassic Worlds Camp Cretaceous.

We had won the league as the best female Baseball team, with the price being -besides the typical golden trophy and some media glory- a trip to Camp Cretaceous for one of us. And as the team leader, I was chosen as the one who can go.

“Oh no it’s fine!”, I had said. I already had a funny feeling about the trip. But they all had insisted, “it’s fine”, they had said, “it’ll be cool” they said.

Oh and weren’t they just so right. I am super peachy.

Practically prancing through the jungle and killing Dinos with my little finger-

Ok that’s enough, I think y’all got the gist: The shit had hit the fan.

Things happened, that made everyone be gone, and suddenly it was up to us to survive on this pretend Prehistoric nightmare.

At least my beloved baseball bat had survived the fall of the Camp Cretaceous building. After that discovery I didn’t let go of it anymore. I took it everywhere with me, hitting every living being that even dared to breath in my new found friends direction.

Friends… I had never thought, before the evacuation of Jurassic World and all that crazy stuff happened, that I’d ever call any of them that. I hadn’t really found any of them to be friendship material. I love baseball and building things out of wood in my free time and had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. The only person in the group who had come close to that was Yaz, but she had been so closed off, that I couldn’t really tell before we became a group that fought for their survival. Darius also had been ok, but I was older than him and we didn’t have anything in common, so that checked itself out. Everyone else sort of annoyed me in one way or another. Especially Kenji’s pompous ass. He had appeared very full of himself and just generally narcissistic, or at least painfully self centered and pretentious.

Now imagine how surprised one might be, when one figured I was crushing on the guy.

Let’s just say, that things happened that made me see Kenji in a completely different light.

Turns out he has a good enough sense of humor to catch my drift when I speak “in sarcastic” as he likes to call it. Turns out, he was a loyal and fun friend. Turns out he was just a lonely soul, neglected by a father whose work is more important to him than his own son.

Everything turned out different than it appears about him. He still sometimes annoyed me with his pranks and especially when he wouldn’t shut up about his wealth. The latter however became very apparent as the means to show that he was someone, although he didn’t need to prove that anymore. But of course he would think that’s how people would like him, his father had taught him no better.

The first thing I mentioned somehow makes me love him even more. It annoys me, gets such a rise out of me, that it’s somehow funny again. It gives me a spark and Kenji seemingly seems to enjoy seeing that spark. And him enjoying that spark makes me somehow happy as well. It would start with a cat fight and ended in rigorous laughter.

“Why so serious?”, he would sometimes ask when I’d respond with a glare towards him when he’d steal my bat for what felt like the fifty millionth time.

“You’re getting so creative. I barely saw it coming”, I answered dryly and one could practically see the words alternating between being written in small and big letters.

“Well then you should have no problem finding your sweet baby bat then”, he cooed. Looking deep into his dark brown eyes and almost devilish handsome grin made me both want to punch and kiss him, which may have made me irritable and even madder.

“Finding? Why should I find anything if I have a living and breathing treasure map. Come here!”, I demanded with a creepily sweet grin as I’d walk towards him. Then he’d run, I’d run, we wrestled for a second on the ground only to break into a laughing fit, rolling on the floor, crying tears, resolving this nonsense prank and then getting back to either relaxing or fighting off Dinosaurs… again.

I didn’t think, however, that anything could happen between Kenji and me.

For many a reason, though only two are essential: For one, we were busy surviving, one barely had time to get downtime with the group, yet alone for themselves. Secondly, I didn’t really know, or couldn’t really tell, if he felt the same. Maybe it was my own insecurities coming to light or something, but I just couldn’t really believe it.

Seemed unlikely.

But then things happened.

Kenji and I were on the run from an especially nasty, big Dinosaur. We had been collecting some water in big canisters and wanted to head back to camp when it sneak attacked, unexpectedly.

It snared at us, opening its huge mouth, showing a row of thin, long, sharp teeth.

“Fuck off, you tooth pick mouthed asshole!”, I hissed back at it, flailing my bat at it in panic.

The reason for my irrational action was mainly, that we were stuck between two huge rocks, backed up against another rock with no way out.

Maybe hills or mini-mountain were a better description, but it’s also not important.

All that I could think of was that we were stuck and that little fucker wanted to eat us.

“Calm down, y/n, this isn’t making anything better!”, Kenji tried to reason with me. I was close to shouting some obscenities at him or a dry ‘got a better idea, genius!?’, but this time his dark brown eyes, that often had a mischievous twinkle, calmed me, instead of creating the usual spark. I crawled closer to him as we were pressed to the stone wall.

The Dino however wouldn’t give up. Vehemently, it pressed its ugly snout between the walls, stretching its uncomfortably wet tongue towards us and exhaling a nauseating breath.

I was paralyzed, as I looked at that thing, not knowing what would happen next.

Suddenly, I felt my bat being taken out of my hand. I watched as Kenji took on a fighter stance, the bat positioned over his head, ready for the hit.

“What are you doing! Didn’t you just tell me that we should calm it?”, I asked. He turned around, a frown adorned his face, “I said you should calm down”, is all he answered before he darted towards the animal.

“NO!”, I heard myself scream. I had never heard such a sound come from my throat. It was shrill, loud and all in all I couldn’t recognize myself. I was terrified, even more than when I first caught sight of this beast that had brought us into this situation.

Everything seemed to pass by in slow motion as I saw Kenji swing the bat towards its snout. At first I thought it was over for him as the Dinos mouth opened, the teeth seeming to scrape Kenji’s head, that’s how close it was to him… but then I saw Kenji swinging the bat again, directly hitting its head so that it flew against the stone wall. The beast wailed in pain, seemingly backing up, and just like that, it was gone.

“I… I made it”, Kenji first whispered, before he laughed, repeating, “I made it!”, even louder, jumping into the air and forming a victory fistbump in the air.

“That was awesome! Did you see how- Y/N?”, Kenji’s joy subsided as he looked into my angered expression. With a swift motion I took my bat back, glaring at him as I pressed out, between gritted teeth “let’s just go, hero”

Kenji seemed to have caught the sarcastic undertone of me calling him a hero, because I could physically feel his mood shift closer to mine, “hey what’s with that attitude? I just saved our lives!”

“By doing what I also wanted to do. Great!”

“You were panicking! I don’t know if you would’ve gotten a good hit by panicking. Besides, I couldn’t risk you getting hurt!”, he explained.

For a second I could feel my heart flutter, but that didn’t help my opinion on what just happened.

“But you were ready to risk yourself?”, I asked, my tone bitter.

“Why are you so mad?”, he asked, “we are safe, what more could you want?”,

“I-“, I stopped in my tracks, thinking. Yeah: What was I so mad about? He was right, I had panicked. Panic never helps with concentration and right decision making. I found it impressive, that he had the courage and the focus to fight the Dino off. But I just couldn’t fight off the thought of it going wrong. What if he would’ve been eaten?

“What-“, I wanted to repeat what I had been thinking, but could feel a hiccup, breaking the tear flood inside me. No- I was not going to cry. I took a deep breath, looking directly into his confused visage, “- what if it would’ve gone wrong, I’m just… I- I wouldn’t have known what to do without you. I can’t imagine being without you anymore”.

I saw and heard him gasp, his glance unfreezing from his confused state.

“I didn’t realize I was that important to you”, he answered.

I chuckled, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes, “everyone is important to me from the group, I wouldn’t have liked any of them to risk their lives for me but- but especially not you. I- I can’t believe I’m going to say this - I had vowed to take this to my grave ya know-“

“- Get to the point”, Kenji urged me.( I wasn’t looking at him, but he later told me he had smiled whilst saying it, I however thought he was getting annoyed and was almost too scared to continue. Stupid how that sometimes works)

“- I, eh- I’m in love with you I think. Or at least I definitely feel very strongly for you”, I confessed, “there! Now you have something to use against me. Finally got something you can laugh at again on this miserable Isla-mpf”, my self deprecating monologue was interrupted by soft lips catching mine. It almost took my breath away, but then I leaned in, still not believing this was happening, though it definitely was.

“I’m not going to laugh, I love you too. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk everything if I didn’t”

“That’s cheesy, but I appreciate the honesty”, I said, wearing my usual shit eating grin as I regained confidence back.

“Oh look who's talking now”

“Oh shut it!”, I laughed and just like that, I found myself kissing him again.

“And here I thought I had to worry, but you two just ran away to make out”, I suddenly heard Darius in the background, half serious, half amused by the moment he found us in.

I quickly broke away from Kenji, grinning sheepishly, “You know how it is Darius: You get chased by a Dino, and then you need a kiss to make the boo boo go away… just so happens I got a bit of a chap on my lips, and Kenji wanted to make it real good again”, I explained, earning a silent chuckle from Kenji.

Darius rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back a smile either, “let’s get you love birds home”

————————

And so things happened. Did we have much time to enjoy us being a couple? Not really.

Did more things happen, making everything crazier and tougher?

Did the rift between Darius and Kenji make me anxious as I was sitting by Kenji’s side, as he, with an expression that was too serious for my liking, drove the yacht?

Absolutely.

But I know, that at least he’s by my side still, as am I, and we will make things happen so that we can finally be free from this place.

Hopefully, we’ll make it.

Depends on what the Dino on the yacht has to say about it...

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

It was all a Lie

Possessive Father Shawn Mendes x Male Reader x Boyfriend Tom Holland.

(couldn’t come up with a good title. also why does Tom look sick in the photo I picked?) 

Shawn is 32. You and Tom are 19. 

Warnings: Not that many. slight yandere behavior. 

Summary: your name is M/n Mendes and you are the son of Shawn Mendes. You thought he was like any other dad, but that changed when you turn 13. He began to tell you not to play with your friends and how they didn’t care about you. He began to isolate you so you could depend on him. Now you are 18, and your father’s obsession grew. But what he doesn’t know is that you have a boyfriend and his name is Tom Holland. 

M/n: Male Name

Word Count: 1110

Not a Poly-relationship by the way!

Hope you enjoy it!

this was rushed because tomorrow I have school. 

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DISCLAIMER: I MEAN NO OFFENSE, DISRESPECT, OR HARM TO ANY OF THESE CELEBRITIES! THIS IS JUST FICTION.

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MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES

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I was walking with my boyfriend, Tommy, (Tom Holland). We were just messing around, he would sometimes flirt with me and I would flirt back. “Hey, why doesn’t your father know about us?” he said in his deep sexy British accent. 

“Well….” you paused before telling him. “Let me tell you from the beginning…. Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Yes, I wanna know.” 

“Well… I grew up without a mother, and… my father was always there for me... but that changed when I turned 13. He began to isolate me from other kids, he would always tell me that, “You don’t need friends. They’re just going to leave you in the future and that you should depend on me.” Tom was politely listening to your story. 

“I, of course, didn’t take it seriously but when I turned 18, he began to ground me for hanging out with my friends. And now that you’re my boyfriend, he’s going to flip out, and probably going to tell us to break up,” you said while looking down not wanting to look in his eyes. 

You felt Tom grab your hand and pull you in for a hug. “Don't worry M/n, I won’t allow him to tear us apart! I love you M/n,” he said pulling you in for kissing. Little did you know, someone was looking through the window with anger.

You both parted ways. and you walked up to the front door. You waved goodbye and Tom blew a kiss. You giggled at him. 

When you walked in, you saw your father looking at you. He had an expression you couldn’t explain. But the main thing you noticed was that he was fuming. You could see smoke coming out of his ears. 

“Who was that boy?!” he asked, well… more like yelled and demanding. You didn’t feel like dealing with him so you just ignored him and walked upstairs to your room. You could hear him yelling at you to come back down. 

You locked your door and push hopped onto your bed. Exhaling after a long day. You could hear the car engine starting through the thin walls. You look out the window and see Shawn pulling out and driving away. 

This always happens, whenever you two get in an argument, he just goes somewhere. You, of course, don’t know where he goes because you’re not allowed to leave the house once you returned from school.

Time Skip (Only 10 minutes)

M/n POV

‘Ugh! I’m so bored! There’s nothing to do. Why is life so boring?!’ you thought to yourself. You just stared at the ceiling pretending to make a figure. (Have you ever just looked at the ceiling or anywhere and stared long enough to make a picture? Or is it just me? Comment I wanna know this.)

Just then, I got a text from Tom that reads: “Hey wanna go out? You don’t have to after you told me about your father.” I smiled at his text. 

I began to type, but my fat fingers keep pressing the wrong letters. After about 3 minutes, I got my text ready and sent it. “Sure! My dad just left. So we can hang out! He is usually out for like 4 to 5 hours” 

💕😍Tommy 💖😘 is typing….. “Great I’ll pick you! I’ll be there in an hour.” 

I got up and began to get ready. After 10 minutes, I was ready now I just gotta wait. It was really quiet, I could hear the crickets chirping, the wind howling, and the police sirens off in the distance. “Something must be going down.”

“You know what? I’m gotta get up!” I got up and unlocked my door. I was walking down the hallway when I saw a room. 

Shawn’s office. He always told me not to never go in there and that it was forbidden to go in. ‘I wonder what he’s hiding in there?’ one part of me told me not to go in there, but a much louder voice is telling, “GO IN THERE!” 

I began to think… “you know what, I’m going to do the opposite of what he said!” 

I opened the door nothing really was in there. Just a table in the center with a laptop and other paperwork with bookcases on the side. I walked behind the desks to see drawers.

Me being a snoop decided to see what secrets Shawn was hiding. Nothing really interesting until I came upon a box. 

I opened it up to see pictures of me when I was a kid, I looked around ten at the time. I really didn’t it into account because it was innocent. But then I found this one picture…

It was me with a woman by me. ‘Is that my mother? I finally get to see what she looks like!’ my happiness quickly died when I saw another picture. 

It was me with my mom and another man?! ‘Who is that man? Was mom cheating on Shawn?’ the more that I looked at the picture, the more I see that I have more similar features. I now noticed that I look nothing like Shawn! 

Then I saw another photo, this time with two giant x’s on their pictures. It was like a murder putting x’s on their targets meaning that they killed them. My eyes widen at this discovery. 

‘It was all a lie?! I’m not Shawn’s son? He killed my real parents! But why?’ as I was thinking, I heard the door close. I grasp as I looked over to see Shawn leaning against the door. 

“Looks like you finally found out…” before I could react, he put a cloth over my mouth and I inhaled the toxins on the rag. 

Darkness was the only thing I saw, and Shawn standing over me with a sadistic smile. 

“I’ll take you far away from here my darling… you only need me and no one else”

To be continued...

[littlegnoblin]

Happy Valentine’s Day to my best friend and other half @donestiel

read on ao3

Dean comes home from work to find Cas and Jack sitting at the table, red heart-shaped lollipops strewn in front of them. 

He gives Cas a quick kiss. “You trying to give the kid a sugar rush or what?” 

“Daddy! It’s for Valemtime’s Day!” Jack yells excitedly, hopping off his chair to hug Dean’s legs.  

“It’s pronounced valentine, Jack.”

“I don’t know, valemtime kinda has a nice ring to it,” Dean says. Jack beams up at him and he can’t help but ruffle his hair. 

“Yes, well, the holiday has become so bastardized that I suppose renaming it wouldn’t hurt.” Cas squints at the box the candy came in. “Does no one find it odd that their children are passing around cards demanding others belong to them?”

Dean sits down and pulls Jack into his lap, flipping through the little pink cards. “I don’t know that you’re supposed to think about it that hard, dude.” He comes across a card that reads ‘kiss me’ and holds it up. “This, on the other hand-- they’re five, what the hell do they need to be kissin’ for?”

“I want kisses!” Jack protests. 

“You’re a little kiss monster.” Cas leans in and presses a big, exaggerated smooch to Jack’s cheek. “How was that? Did it satisfy the beast?”

Jack giggles and nods enthusiastically. 

“Hey, I’m gonna need to sample one of those kisses myself. Make sure they’re regulation-- standard procedure.”

“Is that right?”

“‘Fraid so,” Dean says with a shit eating grin. 

He’s expecting a goofy kiss like the one he gave Jack but Cas uses his thumb to tilt Dean’s chin just so and kisses him deeply. 

They break apart when two tiny hands push at their faces and Jack tells them to knock it off. 

“This is what Valentine’s Day is all about, champ. Besides, I thought you liked kisses.”

“You guys do it gross.” 

Dean smiles and bounces his eyebrows at Cas, who rolls his eyes but can’t hide the small curl of his mouth. 

“Perhaps your father will help you write your classmates’ names on the cards while I get dinner ready.”

“I can cook,” Dean says quickly. The thought of Cas’ last attempt at cooking has his stomach churning and he’s pretty sure feeding that toxic waste to Jack would be considered child abuse. 

Cas holds up a cardboard box. “It’s frozen pizza.”

“Alright, I’ll do babysitting duty. Just make sure you take the plastic off this time.”

“It’s not babysitting when it’s your own child and that was one time.”

“One time too many,” Dean mutters.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing, dear.”

Cas glares at him. “I expect you to eat a healthy portion of salad along with your pizza tonight.”

“You making it yourself or is it bagged?”

The glare intensifies. 

Jack tugs on his sleeve. “Daddy, did you like doing valentine’s stuff in school?”

“Nah, it, uh-- it wasn’t really a thing when I was your age.” 

That’s a blatant lie but Dean’s not going to tell him the truth and bum him out. What five year old wants to hear that their dad didn’t do Valentine’s Day exchanges because there was barely enough money for food, let alone candy, and he never really stuck around any school long enough to get included in the holiday stuff. Shit’s depressing. 

“So you never got no cards or nothin’?”

“Nope.” Dean never got cards but he did get invited under the bleachers a few times in high school to unwrap a different kind of present. He’s not telling him that either, though. 

“That sucks. Can I have a lollipop?”

“Nice try, kid.” Dean taps on the card in front of them. “Get to writing.” 

He oversees the careful labelling of the cards, reminding Jack to double check the list of names anytime he spells something wrong and corrects a few backwards letters. They debate who gets what card and Jack complains that he has to give one to Tom who keeps cutting him in line. 

Cas rejoins them in the middle of Jack’s impassioned rant, hiding his smile behind his hand. 

“While I agree that Tom is a-- what was it you called him?”

“A butthead.”

“Yes, right, a butthead. While I agree he is a butthead, unfortunately I think you need to be the bigger person. Maybe this will even convince him to stop cutting in line and you two can be friends.”

“No way. I don’t wanna be friends with Tom.”

“You never know,” Dean says. “I didn’t like your dad when we first met, but I think he’s a pretty okay guy now.”

Jack looks at him wide eyed. “You didn’t like Daddy?”

“No way, he was a butthead.”

“It was more of a misunderstanding,” Cas explains. 

“Oh is that what we’re calling it?”

Cas lifts an eyebrow and stares him down. “What would you call it, Dean?” 

Shit, that should not be so hot. 

“Not the point; the point is that I didn’t think I would ever like your dad and now we’re married. Things change.”

Jack furrows his brows, considering. “I don’t want to marry Tom.”

Dean snorts. “You don’t have to. In fact, please don’t. His mom is a nightmare.” Cas kicks him under the table. “What! She is!”

“You don’t have to marry him and you don’t have to be friends with him,” Cas says, ignoring Dean completely, “but you do have to give him a card and some candy.” 

Jack grumbles but does as he’s told. Dean’s legs are starting to fall asleep but he’s become increasingly aware of how fast Jack is growing up and soon-- way too fucking soon, if you ask him-- he won’t be sitting in his lap at all so he silently resigns to not feeling his legs for the next ten minutes. 

“All done!” Jack yells and throws his hands in the air. 

“Sweet, now let's stick some candy in these bad boys and call it a night.”

“Wait, there’s a extra, what should I do with it?”

“Is there anyone who’s not in your class that you’d like to give a valentine to?”

Jack gasps and slaps a hand over Dean’s eyes, nearly poking one out in the process. “Close your eyes, Daddy!”

Dean dutifully closes his eyes until Jack tells him he’s finished. He slowly opens one eye and sees the pink card held about an inch from his face.

“For me?” he gasps dramatically.

“Yes!”

The front of the card reads ‘You’re the best!’ and when he opens it, he finds ‘Daddy’ written in some of the neatest handwriting from Jack he’s ever seen. Beneath it he’s signed his name, the K backwards like it always is on his first try. 

“I gave it to you because you never had one before and also you’re the best daddy ever, who makes me yummy chocolate chip pancakes and cheeseburgers and does funny voices for bedtime stories,” Jack explains. 

Dean wraps his arms around his son and rests his cheek on top of his head, his heart feeling fit to burst. “Thank you, Jack. I’m gonna keep this forever.” And he means it. 

“Welcome. Can I have a lollipop now?”

Cas points at Dean. “He gets that from you.”

 After the valentines are carefully put away and they’ve had dinner (plastic free and edible, which Cas seems proud of), Jack gets a bath and is tucked in bed. Dean and Cas spend the rest of the night sprawled out on the couch watching reruns of Doctor Sexy and drinking beer. Party city. 

When the Doctor Sexy reruns switch to Jeopardy, Dean knows it’s officially midnight. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess.” 

They tip their bottles together. 

“I hope I didn’t disappoint you by not planning anything,” Cas says, picking at the label on his beer. 

“What? No, of course not. We never do anything. I thought we were on the same page about avoiding that shit after our first Valentine’s together.”

They both shudder thinking about the sweaty cupid ‘handshake’. 

“We are, but we never actually discussed it and I…” Cas pauses and tilts his head. “I think having Jack around and seeing the world through his eyes, experiencing things in a new way, it makes me wonder if we’re not missing out on some of the little things.”

“Hey, we appreciate lots of the little things-- like you not cooking frozen pizza with the plastic still on.”

“Dean.”

“Okay, okay. So you sayin’ you wanna celebrate now?”

“Sam and Eileen do.”

“Sam and Eileen are saps. And they don’t have a five year old running around.” 

Cas makes a sound of agreement and softly strokes the back of Dean’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. “You make a fair point. In all honesty, I don’t want to do anything extravagant but I would like to take the opportunity to remind you how much I love you. Am I allowed to be sappy for a moment?”

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, I guess you deserve one day to get it all out.” He puts their bottles down and faces his husband. “Lay it on me, big guy.”

Instead of looking annoyed, Cas just looks fond. “You know, it’s ironic that a man as full of love as you are is so quick to dismiss any sentimentality. You are a fascinating creature.” A thumb sweeps under his eye where he’s got permanent dark circles and settles at the corner where his lines get deeper every day. It makes Dean want to squirm but he holds still under the reverent touch. “Perhaps that’s why I never stood a chance.”

“C’mon, man,” Dean says, dropping his eyes to the couch. 

“Hush, I’m allowed, I’ll have you know. My husband gave me explicit permission.”

“Well, your husband is thinking about rescinding the offer.”

“I love you.” 

Cas says it with such conviction that Dean can’t help but look back at him, at his bright eyes and soft smile; at the evidence of his love written all over his face. 

“I love you, endlessly, Dean Winchester. For everything that you are; the good and the bad. From the moment I saw your soul in hell, so bright it was almost blinding, I knew I would never be the same. You breathed life into me, gave me meaning and purpose, taught me the value of love, and you did it all, selflessly, simply by being the man that you are.” Cas draws him close, presses their foreheads together. “I can never give back all that you’ve given me but I promise you will have my love until we are nothing but a forgotten memory, and longer still.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and they breath together in the small space between them. 

“You can’t-- you can’t just say shit like that,” he whispers. 

“And why not?”

“Because it’s not true, first of all.” Cas opens his mouth to argue but Dean covers it with his hand and hurries on. “You’ve already given all of that back and more. God, Cas, if it weren’t for you I’d have been dead years ago. I needed to stick around-- to take care of Sammy, to stop whatever or whoever was trying to end the world next-- but you… you made me want to live. Really live, not just survive, you know? I fuckin’ love you, man.”

Cas pushes Dean’s hand away and presses his lips against Dean’s fervently. 

When they finally break apart for desperately needed air, they both pretend they aren’t sniffling like little girls. 

“You happy now? Can we go back to not doing this?”

Cas laughs. “I hadn’t planned on making it quite so emotional, I apologize. You always bring out the most in me.”

“Ugh, enough,” Dean groans, shoving Cas’ smiling face away. “You aren’t allowed to say anything even approaching romantic for the next twenty four hours, capiche?”

“I can agree to that, as long as I’m allowed to give you a gift later.”

“I thought you said you didn’t plan anything?”

“It’s nothing big.” Cas’ fingers sneak under Dean’s shirt and trail along his stomach, dipping to his waistband. “I just happened to walk by Victoria’s Secret and see a pair of pink satin panties in the window.”

Dean’s heart beats a little faster. “Oh yeah?” he says breathlessly. “Not gonna lie, that seems more like a present for you.”

Cas hums and leans over Dean, forcing him to lie back on the couch. “Well then I suppose I’ll just have to do whatever you want while you wear them.”

When he kisses him he tastes like cherry candy and Dean thinks could learn to like this holiday. 

[fromkenari]

Waterloo Letters #3: A mass of fools and knaves

A mass of fools and knaves A agcd@eclare45.com                8/10/20 1:04 AM to Henry H, Have you ever read any of Alexander Hamilton’s letters to John Laurens? What am I saying? Of course you haven’t. You’d probably be disinherited for revolutionary sympathies. Well, since I got the boot from the campaign, there is literally nothing for me to do but watch cable news (diligently chipping away at my brain cells by the day) and sort through all my old shit from college. Just looking at papers, thinking: Excellent, yes, I’m so glad I stayed up all night writing this for a 98 in the class, only to get summarily fired from the first job I ever had and exiled to my bedroom! Great job, Alex! Is this how you feel in the palace all the time? It fucking sucks, man. So anyway, I’m going through my college stuff, and I find this analysis I did of Hamilton’s wartime correspondence, and hear me out: I think Hamilton could have been bi. His letters to Laurens are almost as romantic as his letters to his wife. Half of them are signed “Yours” or “Affectionately yrs,” and the last one before Laurens died is signed “Yrs for ever.” I can’t figure out why nobody talks about the possibility of a Founding Father being not straight (outside of Chernow’s biography, which is great btw, see attached bibliography). I mean, I know why, but. Anyway, I found this part of a letter he wrote to Laurens, and it made me think of you. And me, I guess: The truth is I am an unlucky honest man, that speak my sentiments to all and with emphasis. I say this to you because you know it and will not charge me with vanity. I hate Congress—I hate the army—I hate the world—I hate myself. The whole is a mass of fools and knaves; I could almost except you … Thinking about history makes me wonder how I’ll fit into it one day, I guess. And you too. I kinda wish people still wrote like that. History, huh? Bet we could make some. Affectionately yrs, slowly going insane, Alex, First Son of Founding Father Sacrilege

Re: A mass of fools and knaves Henry hwales@kensingtonemail.com                8/10/20 4:18 AM to A Alex, First Son of Masturbatory Historical Readings: The phrase “see attached bibliography” is the single sexiest thing you have ever written to me. Every time you mention your slow decay inside the White House, I can’t help but feel it’s my fault, and I feel absolutely shit about it. I’m sorry. I should have known better than to turn up at a thing like that. I got carried away; I didn’t think. I know how much that job meant to you. I just want to … you know. Extend the option. If you wanted less of me, and more of that—the work, the uncomplicated things—I would understand. Truly. In any event … Believe it or not, I have actually done a bit of reading on Hamilton, for a number of reasons. First, he was a brilliant writer. Second, I knew you were named after him (the pair of you share an alarming number of traits, by the by: passionate determination, never knowing when to shut up, &c &c). And third, some saucy tart once tried to impugn my virtue against an oil painting of him, and in the halls of memory, some things demand context. Are you angling for a revolutionary soldier role-play scenario? I must inform you, any trace of King George III blood I have would curdle in my very veins and render me useless to you. Or are you suggesting you’d rather exchange passionate letters by candlelight? Should I tell you that when we’re apart, your body comes back to me in dreams? That when I sleep, I see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when I wake up in the morning, it feels like I’ve just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined? That I can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache? That, for a few moments, I can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all? I think perhaps Hamilton said it better in a letter to Eliza: You engross my thoughts too intirely to allow me to think of any thing else—you not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream—and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness. If you did decide to take the option mentioned at the start of this email, I do hope you haven’t read the rest of this rubbish. Regards, Haplessly Romantic Heretic Prince Henry the Utterly Daft

Re: A mass of fools and knaves A agcd@eclare45.com                8/10/20 5:36 AM to Henry H, Please don’t be stupid. No part of any of this will ever be uncomplicated. Anyway, you should be a writer. You are a writer. Even after all this, I still always feel like I want to know more of you. Does that sound crazy? I just sit here and wonder, who is this person who knows stuff about Hamilton and writes like this? Where does someone like that even come from? How was I so wrong? It’s weird because I always know things about people, gut feelings that usually lead me in more or less the right direction. I do think I got a gut feeling with you, I just didn’t have what I needed in my head to understand it. But I kind of kept chasing it anyway, like I was just going blindly in a certain direction and hoping for the best. I guess that makes you the North Star? I wanna see you again and soon. I keep reading that one paragraph over and over again. You know which one. I want you back here with me. I want your body and I want the rest of you too. And I want to get the fuck out of this house. Watching June and Nora on TV doing appearances without me is torture. We have this annual thing at my dad’s lake house in Texas. Whole long weekend off the grid. There’s a lake with a pier, and my dad always cooks something fucking amazing. You wanna come? I kind of can’t stop thinking about you all sunburned and pretty sitting out there in the country. It’s the weekend after next. If Shaan can talk to Zahra or somebody about flying you into Austin, we can pick you up from there. Say yes? Yrs, Alex P.S. Allen Ginsberg to Peter Orlovsky—1958: Tho I long for the actual sunlight contact between us I miss you like a home. Shine back honey & think of me.

Re: A mass of fools and knaves Henry hwales@kensingtonemail.com                8/10/20 8:22 PM to A Alex, If I’m north, I shudder to think where in God’s name we’re going. I’m ruminating on identity and your question about where a person like me comes from, and as best as I can explain it, here’s a story: Once, there was a young prince who was born in a castle. His mother was a princess scholar, and his father was the most handsome, feared knight in all the land. As a boy, people would bring him everything he could ever dream of wanting. The most beautiful silk clothes, ripe fruit from the orangery. At times, he was so happy, he felt he would never grow tired of being a prince. He came from a long, long line of princes, but never before had there been a prince quite like him: born with his heart on the outside of his body. When he was small, his family would smile and laugh and say he would grow out of it one day. But as he grew, it stayed where it was, red and visible and alive. He didn’t mind it very much, but every day, the family’s fear grew that the people of the kingdom would soon notice and turn their backs on the prince. His grandmother, the queen, lived in a high tower, where she spoke only of the other princes, past and present, who were born whole. Then, the prince’s father, the knight, was struck down in battle. The lance tore open his armor and his body and left him bleeding in the dust. And so, when the queen sent new clothes, armor for the prince to parcel his heart away safe, the prince’s mother did not stop her. For she was afraid, now: afraid of her son’s heart torn open too. So the prince wore it, and for many years, he believed it was right. Until he met the most devastatingly gorgeous peasant boy from a nearby village who said absolutely ghastly things to him that made him feel alive for the first time in years and who turned out to be the most mad sort of sorcerer, one who could conjure up things like gold and vodka shots and apricot tarts out of absolutely nothing, and the prince’s whole life went up in a puff of dazzling purple smoke, and the kingdom said, “I can’t believe we’re all so surprised.” I’m in for the lake house. I must admit, I’m glad you’re getting out of the house. I worry you may burn the thing down. Does this mean I’ll be meeting your father? I miss you. x Henry P.S. This is mortifying and maudlin and, honestly, I hope you forget it as soon as you’ve read it. P.P.S. From Henry James to Hendrik C. Andersen, 1899: May the terrific U.S.A. be meanwhile not a brute to you. I feel in you a confidence, dear Boy–which to show is a joy to me. My hopes and desires and sympathies right heartily and most firmly, go with you. So keep up your heart, and tell me, as it shapes itself, your (inevitably, I imagine, more or less weird) American story. May, at any rate, tutta quella gente be good to you.

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 239-247). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

[omgrachwrites]

The Princess and The Duke - Chapter Twenty

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: As the Princess of Spain, you were always supposed to marry King James of England to make an alliance between Spain and England. When he marries a woman at his court for love, you are married off to his best friend, Sirius Black the Duke of Bedford to keep the alliance. However, the court is riddled with secrets and a rebel in the North starts to rise against the Throne. Royal AU.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, character death, tiny bit of fluff.

Words: 2671

Disclaimer: This gif doesn’t belong to me, and I’m sorry for the gif I used!

A/N: So here we are at the end! Thank you so much for supporting me with this fic and I'm sorry for this chapter, I kept James and Lily alive to make this part even more sad! This was actually going to end in such an angst filled way but I didn’t want to do that to you guys, though I might write the alternate ending at some point! Hope you guys all enjoy and please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx

Chapter Twenty - Wherever You Are

Dread coiled in your stomach that fateful morning as you got yourself dressed and pinned your hair. Reggie was sleeping soundly, letting out little snuffles but still, you picked him up and nuzzled your nose into his fine dark hair as you felt the tears build up behind your eyes. You weren’t aware that you could possibly cry as much as you had done, there were little red rashes beneath your eyes where the salt from your tears had irritated your skin. Your heart seemed to be in a constant state of pain as your husband awaited his trial.

This trial should not be even happening, you were appalled at how James had arrested Sirius for treason, “we’ll be alright, little one,” you whispered to your baby boy, “papa isn’t a traitor, he’s a good man,” you pressed a kiss to Reggie’s little forehead.

James was originally going to hold Sirius’ trial the day after Halloween, but Lily had convinced him otherwise, Lily knew that you wanted nothing more than to be at Sirius’ side. So, the King relented and allowed a few days for you to recover after giving birth to Reggie. Unfortunately, it meant that Sirius would have to spend more time locked in the tower but you knew that Sirius understood.

“Y/N?” a soft warm voice came from the doorway and you looked over with blurred vision to see Andromeda who was smiling at you kindly, “I think the King and Queen are ready to start, I’ll look after the children, because they shouldn’t have to be subjected to such an event.”

You nodded with a sniffle as you placed Reggie into her open, waiting arms, “thank you so much. Are you not coming to the trial?” you muttered, feeling like a shell of yourself.

Andromeda shook her head with a sad smile, “I can’t watch that happen to him, I can’t. He’s not just my cousin, he’s my best friend. I’m so sorry that I can’t be there for you both; I know that he’s not the traitor, he would never betray us. Never. I don’t know what James is thinking having him arrested.”

“You are so amazing, Andromeda, we are so blessed to have you in our lives and we appreciate you so much,” you tried to smile but you feared that it came out as more of a grimace.

Andromeda leaned forward to kiss your cheek with a sweet sad smile, “whatever happens today, it’s been an honour to serve two people who are completely made for each other, two people who are soulmates. Good luck.”

You felt tears sliding down your cheeks, stinging at your sensitive skin, you adored Andromeda, you couldn’t have got by without her, “let’s just hope that the King sees sense and does the right thing. He must know that his best friend could never do this to him, he just wants someone to blame, he sees enemies where there are friends, and it’ll be his undoing,” you mumbled with a tight smile as you departed from your chambers.

You would never admit it out loud but you had a strange sense of foreboding, a horrible feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t help but feel that something was going to go dreadfully wrong.

As you made your way to the Throne Room where the trial was being held, you just couldn’t understand why on Earth James would believe that Sirius was a traitor. What had happened to make him believe that? Snape was already in the dungeons for committing treason. Under coercion, he had admitted that he had been working for Voldemort but apparently he had told him nothing of the prophecy. You supposed that he had to be lying, he just had to be. According to Lily, the evidence they had against Sirius was damning but it was a lie or a set up, it just had to be.

The atmosphere was heavy and full of dread as you walked into the Throne Room and Lily gave you a brave smile from where she stood at James’ side. James had a grim tight look on his face; the King that you had first met a few springs ago was kind and benevolent. That King was no more, it seemed like his heart had hardened.

Your heart broke when the guards roughly dragged Sirius into the room, showing him no mercy. The past few days that he’d spent in the Tower had seemed to age him considerably, his eyes were starting to take on a haunted look but they softened when he looked at you. You tried to offer him a small smile.

As Sirius was pushed to his knees before the King, James glared at him as he produced a letter, “you’ll remember writing this, I bet,” he snarled and began to read the letter out loud “’Lord Voldemort, in regards to my last letter, you will now know how to break Dumbledore’s enchantments. There are underground caverns and a secret entrance on the West side of the castle. They will lead you into the royal chambers and you can complete your work. Your faithful servant, Sirius Black, Duke of Bedford.”

James tossed the chilling letter at Sirius’ feet, “if it hadn’t been for Peter telling us of the conversation he overhead you having then we would be dead. We managed to prepare and we managed to defeat Voldemort when he came after us. We were supposed to be your friends, your sovereigns. How could you do this to us? How could you plot to kill our son?”

“But, I didn’t!” Sirius shouted, “I didn’t have a conversation of this nature with anybody! I didn’t write that letter, I wouldn’t!”

“Then how do you explain the fact that your seal is on the letter?!” James demanded.

You saw Sirius’ face falter for just a moment and you almost winced, hoping that James didn’t catch it, “my seal was stolen.”

“A likely story,” Remus spoke up, his voice breaking and he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“Where is Peter? He’s lying to you! I saw him sneaking around the castle with a hooded figure!”

“Of course,” James mockingly slapped a hand to his forehead, “blaming the victim is the right thing to do, you’re just trying to save your own skin. Peter was found dead in the hallways, shortly after he came to warn us of your plan.”

You barely managed to conceal a gasp, Peter was dead? “I didn’t kill him,” Sirius whispered, “I was with my wife who was giving birth to our third child!” he glanced at you and you gave him an encouraging nod.

James looked at you before looking back at Sirius, narrowing his eyes, “the midwife says that you left a couple of hours after the birth, around the time that Peter was murdered, he was killed with your ruby encrusted dagger.”

Sirius swallowed nervously, “I lost that dagger shortly after coming back from our last battle with Voldemort,” that was the truth, you remembered Sirius lamenting after its loss. It was clear that someone was setting him up. Why didn’t James see that? “And the reason for my leaving? It was because I went to see if my twins were awake so they could meet their baby brother!”

“And on the way back, you saw an opportunity to kill Peter!” it was clear that James was hitting Sirius hard with the accusations in the hope that Sirius would confess.

“No!” Sirius took a deep breath, “you’re my best friend, you always have been and I would never do anything to hurt you or your family because you’re my family too, please, you have to believe me,” the tone of Sirius’ voice was pleading but James looked unmoved, which annoyed you.

“The evidence is damning, Sirius. It was your seal, your letter and your dagger, you had the means to kill Peter and betray us. What did you think would happen? Did you think Voldemort would put you on the Throne when he killed us?” James hissed but Sirius said nothing but you could see that he was crying you just wanted to hold him. James glanced over to you, “we found no evidence that Y/N was involved,” cold dread shot through your body and your vision blurred.

“She had nothing to do with any of this,” Sirius glanced at you with tear soaked cheeks and the small smile that he gave you broke your heart.

James nodded, offering you a sympathetic look, “then I’m sorry that you’re married to a traitor,” anger boiled in your veins at James’ words and it was an effort to keep your face straight. He glanced back at Sirius, “Sirius Black, I absolve you of your lands and titles; you are no longer the Duke of Bedford. I charge you with treason and I sentence you to hang by the neck until dead,” Lily gasped in surprise as she looked at her husband.

You felt like you were going to be sick and you rushed forwards to kneel at James’ feet, taking Sirius’ hand in yours, “please, Your Majesty, I beg you, don’t kill him! Think of the children, please,” tears streamed down your cheeks and Lily shot James a meaningful look.

James sighed and bowed his head, glaring at Sirius, “very well, you have an amazing wife who begs for your life even though you’re a traitor,” Sirius just looked at the floor and in that moment you hated James for hurting him. You couldn’t imagine how hard it was to endure this from his best friend, “you’re going to spend the rest of your life in a cell. Take him away,” he nodded to the guards.

You cried out in anguish as the guards began to drag your beautiful husband away. How were you going to live without him? “I love you, Sirius.”

Sirius choked on his tears, “I love you too, and please remember me!”

“Of course!” you sobbed.

You didn’t even get to kiss him one last time; you would never forgive James for breaking up your family. Sirius was innocent; you would bet your life on it.

-----------------

Over the next couple of years that Sirius spent in the Tower, he was full of despair and anger, he couldn’t quite believe that James had locked him away; he couldn’t understand why James hadn’t believed him. How could James think that Sirius could ever hurt his friends? What hurt the most was the fact that he couldn’t see the love of his life or his children, the pain was almost unbearable. He couldn’t even see the grounds from the tiny window in his cell so he couldn’t even catch the slightest glance of Y/N.

In that dank, dark cell Sirius was all alone, he was practically withering away. He wanted his wife and he wanted his children. Reggie had only been a couple of days old when Sirius had been thrown into the Tower, Reggie wouldn’t even remember him.

The guards were particularly cruel; they told Sirius everything that was happening at court. They had told him that the King was forcing Y/N to remarry so she wouldn’t bring shame upon England because she was the wife of a traitor. Sirius had been close to throwing up at this news and he died inside, the knowledge that someone else was going to love his wife killed him inside. A few weeks later, the guards grumbled as they told Sirius that the man that Y/N was supposed to marry had died in a hunting accident. It sounded awful but at the sound of that news, Sirius could breathe again.

10 Years Later

Sirius was rudely awakened by the guards pounding on the bars of his cell, their voices filled with glee, “oi! Wake up, you have some visitors,” Sirius groaned and walked over to the bars to see the guards leering faces, “best make it a good goodbye, you’ll never see your family again after today. Your pretty little wife is going to marry the Austrian Prince.”

The pain that shot through Sirius’ chest almost made his knees buckle and tears stung at his eyes, he backed away from the bars so his family could enter. The breath was stolen from his lungs when his family walked into the cell and the door was closed behind them. Y/N was so beautiful and his children were growing up, and he’d missed it all.

“Sirius!” Y/N cried out as she ran to him and Sirius gathered her up in his arms, after 12 years, she was in his arms again. Once more, she was breathing life back into him, “I’ve missed you so much I love you,” she sobbed into his chest before she cupped his face and drew him into a passionate kiss, her tears running over his lips.

“I missed you too, I missed all of you, I love you,” he pressed his forehead against hers, grinning for the first time in 12 years, it was a wonder that he still remembered how to, he looked at his beautiful children with a smile as Elena and Johnathan ran into his arms, their faces bright with recognition. Reggie smiled at him with a blank look on his face but there was love in his eyes, “look at you three, all grown up.”

“We wish you could have been there, father,” Reggie smiled before hesitantly walking towards him and pulling him into a hug. Sirius smiled as he hugged his son tightly, “it’s good to meet you,” Reggie whispered.

Sirius’ smile dropped a second later when he remembered why they were there, “you’re marrying a Prince? Congratulations.”

Y/N rolled her eyes with a giggle and she lowered her voice so the guards wouldn’t hear, “I am never going to marry another, Lily and James just thinks that I am. The Prince doesn’t want to marry me either, he prefers the company of men,” she blushed, “but he believes you’re innocent, he’s a good man.”

“He believes I’m innocent?” Sirius asked, feeling gobsmacked, he was also elated that Y/N wasn’t going to remarry.

“Yes, and he wants to help, we’re getting you out of here tonight, we’ve got a ship leaving the docks at midnight, the Prince will give us sanctuary in Austria.”

Sirius was excited to get out of here, to feel the sun on his skin again, breaking him out of his cell would be dangerous but he glad that Y/N had an ally, but there was something that bothered him, “you’re coming with me? I don’t want to ruin your lives.”

Johnathan sighed as he rolled his eyes, “come on father, we’re going wherever you do. We’re not letting you go alone.”

“But you’ll always be having to hide, that’s no life for you, any of you,” Sirius bit his lip; he wanted to believe that it was possible but it just wasn’t.

Elena took his hand, “papa,” she whispered, “we love you and we’re a family. We’ve been apart for 12 years; you’re insane if you think we’re not going with you. We want to know you and for you to know us.”

Sirius teared up and sniffled as he looked over at his wife who grinned and cupped his cheeks, “we’ll be here an hour before midnight, the guards won’t be a problem. Leave them to us, I love you.”

“I love you too,” he grinned and kissed Y/N deeply before hugging all of his children in turn, excited to be in the world again. The plan was set and at midnight, he was successfully on a ship with his family by his side and a strong ally at his back. This wasn’t how he thought his life was going to be, he never thought he would be running from James’ court but here he was. They were going to be okay. Sirius was free, they were all free, and most importantly, they were together.

-Fin-

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@smiithys ​ @elayneblack ​ @amelie-black @siriuslyjanhvi @pregnant-piggy ​ @lindatreb ​ @mabelle-cherie ​ @hxrgreeves ​ @britishspidey @mads-bri @classicrocketqueen @sxtansqueen @hufflepuffzutara @potters-heart @bruxa0007 ​ @ourstarsailor ​ @fific7 ​ @galwithbluethoughts ​ @2410slb @sunles @krismeunicornbaobei @theincredibledeadlyviper @deathkat657 @lonegryffindor2005 @writing-your-heart-out​

[visander]

A Wedded Union | Ao3.

In which Alec and Magnus got married when Alec marched down the aisle and kissed Magnus, unbeknown to them both.

This is my ‘Accidental Marriage’ square for @shadowhunterbingo.

When Magnus stormed into Alec’s wedding, he had nothing on his mind except getting there. Truthfully, he didn't know what he expected would happen after he arrived. Perhaps, Alec would yell at him to leave. Perhaps, he’d end up awkwardly watching as Alec married a woman he could never love. Perhaps… something else would happen but even contained within that last unlikely perhaps, Magnus hadn’t ever expected Alec to do what he did.

He didn’t expect Alec to call off his wedding on the spot. He didn’t expect Alec to walk down the aisle, dismiss his mother and pull Magnus into a breathtaking kiss but that’s exactly what happened. It seemed that Alexander was always taking him by surprise, even when Magnus expected him to do the opposite of what he ended up doing.

That day at his wedding was no different and Magnus was never more taken back and pleased by the outcome. It was selfish, Magnus knew but if he was being honest, it felt nice for someone to choose him. It felt nice for his efforts to pay off and for him to have helped Alec not make what would have been in Magnus’ opinion, a horrendous life lasting mistake. It felt good that whatever he’d done had helped Alec be true to himself.

It was the perfect start for something wonderful, if Magnus was not immediately scared that Alec would come to regret it. Magnus knew that he was a lot to deal with. Magnus knew that Alec’s family and his peers were going to be less than accepting of the public display that Alec had just made. If Alec didn’t come to resent him for what he’d chosen to do, this could be something wonderful but Magnus was fearful that this wonderful would turn worrisome fast.

That’s what Magnus had been thinking about following Alec's wedding and their kiss. He had not been thinking about shadowhunter custom of kissing at weddings or anything more serious than the fact that Alec had just kissed the breath right out of him. He’d been thinking about that and the fact that Maryse Lightwood had looked angry enough to bite Alec’s head off, though she showed an immense amount of strength in not doing so.

When Alec was inevitably called away for his shadowhunter duties, Magnus went home with a bit of enthusiasm in his step. He walked home smiling and trying not to check his phone every few minutes like a school girl waiting for a message from a crush. He’d walked home wondering when Alec would call him again and when they’d see each other next.

He had not been thinking about the fact that he and Alec had just gotten married, in the eyes of the shadowhunters at least, because he had not known that to be the case and Alec hadn’t either but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t true.

.

They found out nearly three days later. Magnus and Alec had been walking through the Institute together, intent on finally having their first date when Maryse Lightwood had barreled around the corner, clutching a paper tight in her grasp and looking furious enough that Magnus worried she might catch fire any moment.

Maryse looked to Magnus once and then promptly looked to her son and refused to acknowledge Magnus’ presence again. He might as well be a fly on the wall. Magnus was pretty sure Maryse would much prefer he be that way.

“Call and tell them to fix it,” Maryse demanded as she thrust the now crumbled piece of paper at Alec’s chest.

Alec’s eyes widened. He took a half step back before he reached for the paper his mother held out. Confusion was written across his face and it was obvious to Magnus that Alec was just as in the dark as he was.

“What are you talking about?” Alec asked as his eyes started to skim the paper quickly.

“Fix it,” Maryse ground out furiously, offering no immediate explanation. Her eyes snapped to Magnus before looking back to her son. “I will not have the Clave thinking you intended to marry a warlock with your embarrassing little stunt.”

Alec’s face twisted at her words, as did Magnus’. The thought was almost laughable. Even if he and Alec had wanted to get married, and it was far too soon for that, the Clave would never have let them. Warlocks did not marry Shadowhunters. Shadowhunters married Shadowhunters and that’s all the Clave allowed.

Magnus leaned forward to peer over Alec’s shoulder, skimming the letter that was addressed to Alec himself from Jia Penhallow, the current Consul. Most of it was the word fluff that Magnus was used to having to read through in every formal interaction he had with the shadowhunters. They could never cut to the chase and say what they wanted but right at the bottom, Magnus found a paragraph that explained pretty well what Magnus needed to know.

‘In lieu of recent events, the Clave has decided to honor your dedication to one Magnus Bane and certify your marriage as official. It is the Clave’s hope that you and your husband will help strengthen our ties to the downworld and that the officiation of your union will show as a good faith attempt to bridge the gaps between our people. I look forward to speaking with you in more depth about this shortly.’

Alec shifted and Magnus could see suddenly that there was another crumpled paper under the letter. It held the official seal of the Consul, along with the elegant decorative letterhead that announced the paper as an official declaration of marriage between one Magnus Bane and Alexander Lightwood.

Alec seemed just as shocked as Magnus was and when neither of them said a word, Maryse snapped again. “Fix it, Alec,” she hissed, before she was turning to storm away, leaving Alec holding the evidence of their marriage in his loose, blindsided hands.

Alec finally turned to Magnus. “I didn’t mean to marry you,” he rushed out.

In normal circumstances, Magnus might have pretended to be offended at that but he sensed that it wasn’t quite an appropriate time. They hadn't even had a first date. They hadn’t even kissed, besides their very public kiss at Alec’s, their, wedding. Despite all of that, they were married.

Magnus was a lot to deal with even without considering the fact that they’d accidentally declared themselves for each other. “I didn’t either,” Magnus said finally. He wanted to be clear that he hadn’t walked into Alec’s wedding and intended to trick him into marrying him but Alec didn’t seem to need the assurance.

“I can’t believe they’d let that happen.” Alec met Magnus’ eyes, as if Magnus might possibly have some kind of explanation but Magnus was just as shocked as Alec was. For the Clave to certify a wedding not only between a warlock and a shadowhunter but between a male shadowhunter and a male warlock - well, Magnus would have thought he’d die before he’d see the day and that was saying something, considering his very large lifespan.

“I find it hard to believe too. I’ve heard Jia is… progressive but I didn’t expect her to be that progressive.” Magnus laughed nervously but Alec seemed too frazzled to realize how carefully Magnus was watching Alec, waiting for a reaction that would tell him if Alec was terribly upset at everyone thinking he’d married not only a warlock but Magnus.

“She’s not,” Alec said quickly. “They think the downworld is going to revolt. They’re doing anything they can to try and keep the peace, surprisingly enough. I suppose I can see how a marriage between a shadowhunter and a downworlder, especially the High Warlock, would make them look good.”

Slowly, Magnus nodded. Alec was right. There wasn’t a single downworlder who wouldn’t be entirely caught off guard by the news but it did signify a change in the Clave, one that just might be enough to make people complacent. Magnus opened his mouth to respond but Alec looked up suddenly and his expression was intense enough that Magnus fell silent, waiting for him to speak.

“We can’t tell them we didn’t want to get married,” Alec said, assured enough that it took Magnus a moment to even respond.

Slowly, Magnus raised an eyebrow, “You want them to think we’re married?” Magnus asked. “We don’t know each other that well and… Well, marriage is a big deal and I don’t think either of us thinks we’re ready for that.”

“But you don’t care what the Clave thinks,” Alec insisted. “It doesn’t matter to you if they think we’re married.”

At that, Magnus paused. He wasn’t wrong. Magnus didn’t particularly care what the Clave thought of he and Alec’s relationship. “You care,” Magnus said softly. “You want them to think you married me?” Magnus asked in disbelief. He expected Alec to realize all at once that he did not want that at all but that didn’t appear to be what happened.

Instead, Alec looked confused. “Why would I care? If I was worried about any backlash, I wouldn’t have kissed you. If anything, them deciding we're married is a relief.” Alec laughed softly but Magnus wasn’t quite following what was so funny. “I thought they might derune me. Deciding to accept our partnership is a far cry from that, even if it isn’t really what we intended.”

Alec’s brows furrowed as something seemed to occur to him. “I just don’t think we can correct them. They’re doing it for their own gain but Jia is right. It is good for the downworld and for the Clave. If we corrected them, they might decide that it was a mistake all together and never allow it to happen again.”

Alec’s eyes flickered up to Magnus hesitantly. “Unless, you don’t want them to think we’re married,” he said anxiously. “Then, I can let them know to absolve it.”

Magnus blinked and said nothing for far too long. The Clave had caught Magnus off guard but Alec had too. What shadowhunter would want his people to think he’d married a warlock? What shadowhunter would be thinking of future relationships between their people at a time like this? What shadowhunter would be worried that Magnus might not want to be publicly married to a shadowhunter and not the reverse?

Alexander, apparently. His sweet endlessly surprising shadowhunter.

“I don’t mind if your government thinks we’re married,” Magnus said carefully. “I just thought you might,” he insisted. Magnus had been worried Alec might regret kissing him. This was so much bigger than that and he needed to know that Alec was sure.

Alec’s face crumpled in confusion again. “Why would I care?” He asked earnestly.

A soft disbelieving laugh came to Magnus’ lips. “Because you married a dastardly warlock by the name of Magnus Bane?” Magnus posed. “And your mother didn’t seem too pleased and this is far more than you signed up for when you kissed me and-”

Magnus fell silent suddenly because Alec reached out and clasped Magnus’ hand with his own. “Magnus,” Alec said, a soft amused smile coming across his face. “I’d have been honored to marry you someday. I don’t mind if everyone thinks we already are.”

Magnus felt his tongue still in his mouth. No words came out even though Magnus felt like he should find something to say. Finally, Magnus simply nodded and Alec grinned a little wider.

Alec let go of his arm and suddenly looked a touch nervous, which Magnus didn’t understand until Alec opened his mouth again. “Could I uh, kiss you?” Alec asked softly.

This time, it was Magnus who couldn’t help but grin. Alexander, his pseudo husband, was nervous to ask if they could kiss. It was adorable and that’s all that Magnus could think. Magnus nodded and when Alec leaned in to press their lips together, Magnus realized that it was their second kiss ever and that they’d done it, in the eyes of the Clave at least, as husbands.

At least Magnus knew that his relationship with Alec was never going to be boring, if the first three days of it were anything to go by.