#before anyone asks - its from his bonus chapter <3

[deathsweetblossoms]

“I adore you,” I tell her. “Say more,” Macy says, rolling onto her side and taking my arm with her so I’m her big spoon. I speak into the sweat-damp skin of her neck. “Cherish, revere, treasure.” “Worship,” she mumbled into a pillow. “Forever,” I say.

Happy birthday to the love of my life, Elliot Petropoulos.

[hellodarling1357]

Tiny Toes: Part 3.5 - Cassian x Reader

Surprise! 🥳

Here’s a mini bonus chapter that happens soon after where part 3 ended. It’s leading into a particular storyline that has been requested quite a lot 👀

So this started out as a little fluff piece but got a little angsty towards the end...

Word Count: 1.5k

“PJs on?”

“Yep.”

“Teeth cleaned?”

“Yep.”

“Really?” Cassian quirked an eyebrow at his daughter, holding back a laugh as Ottie rolled her eyes and widely opened her mouth to prove him wrong.

“Good girl.”

“Daddy, can I sleep in your bed with you tonight?”

Usually, Cassian would have encouraged her to stay in her own room, not wanting to have her fall into the habit of not being able to settle in her own bed. But after today, the thought of holding his baby girl while she slept had him agreeing.

He watched with a soft smile as she excitedly ran into his room, her favourite, slightly-worn teddy bear in hand as she waited for him to lift her up onto the bed.

“Alrighty, all comfortable?” Cassian asked, tucking her in tightly then swooping down to smother her face in kisses, letting his hair fall forward to tickle her face. Her giggles resounded through him, heart throbbing as he looked down at his little girl in awe, wondering how something so strained had resulted in something so perfect. Despite how messy the situation with Nesta had turned out, he wouldn’t change it for the world; not when it led to what he now had.

Ottie reached her hands up, pulling his face down to hers and planting a sloppy kiss to his cheek that only a toddler could get away with.

“I love you, daddy.” She whispered as he pushed her dark hair away from her face.

“I love you too, sweet girl. Want me to read to you?” Her face lit up in excitement and she nodded enthusiastically while shuffling further into the mattress. “Alright, I’ll be back in a minute, yeah? You think about what story you want tonight.”

Focusing on getting himself ready for bed, Cassian let his mind wander to you and how incredible the day he had been so nervous for had turned out. After he had told Ottie about the two of you, you had all spent the rest of the afternoon in the sun, walking along the Sidra with Ottie bounding ahead, turning back every now and then to check that he was still holding your hand, and would then proceed to growl at him if he wasn’t. After an early dinner, Cassian and Ottie had dropped you off at your apartment, you and Cassian had decided earlier that you would give Ottie some time to process everything before pushing anything else on her.

Ottie, not having seen your place before, excitedly ran around, looking into every single room and cupboard. Cassian had called her back, telling her it was rude to be nosy, but you just shushed him and used the few minutes alone to pull him into a gentle kiss.

“Thank you for today,” he murmured against your lips.

“Thank you for trusting me with her, for wanting me to be in her life.” Cassian couldn’t find the words to express what he felt in that moment so instead pulled you in for another kiss that he hoped conveyed even just a fraction of what he felt for you.

Judging be the look you were giving him when you eventually pulled away, it had said enough; and if his heart wasn’t already yours, it would be after the way you smiled at him before pressing another soft kiss to his lips.

When Nesta left, Cassian had never even considered that he would find someone else. While they hadn’t been the perfect match, they had still been mates and if that hadn’t worked out, well, what hope did he have to be able to make it work with anyone else?

Besides, he had Ottie now. She had become his entire universe, and he was content enough in the fact that he had contributed in the making of this tiny, wonderful person that he wouldn’t need anything else again. And then he had met you, and he was forever thankful to Elain for introducing you into his life. You had shifted everything on its axis simply by being this bright light and ongoing presence for both Ottie and himself. He knew without a doubt that everything in his life, every bit of joy and fear, every mistake made, was all leading him to you, to this point in time.

*****

Three stories later, Ottie was finally beginning to doze off, tightly pressing herself even closer into his chest as her little hands clasped at his t-shirt. Cassian found himself nodding off as well, his fingers twirling through her hair, so similar to his own.

“Daddy? Are we going to be like Uncle Rhys, Auntie Feyre and Nyx now?” Her sudden question tore him away from his sleep-muddled thoughts.

“What do you mean, princess?” He asks, soothing a hand over her hair.

“Well, Uncle Rhys is Nyx’s daddy, like you’re mine. And Auntie Feyre is Nyx’s mummy,” she stayed silent for a moment, Cassian held his breath while she sorted through the thoughts flying around her head.

“So,” she continued, now looking up at Cassian with a sparkle in her eyes. “So, does that mean Y/N is my mummy?”

Cassian felt his heart pang at the clear excitement written across his daughter’s face; he was in no way prepared for this. Hell, the two of you hadn’t even broached the subject of how to navigate this situation, you had only been together for a couple of months.

“Uh,” he hesitated, unsure of the right thing to say. “Well, sweetheart, Y/N loves you very, very much but, no, she’s not your mummy, love.” Again, he felt his heart clench at the devastation of her face.

“Oh, okay,”

Resting her head on his chest again, silence enveloped them. Cassian was beginning to think she had fallen asleep when she whispered in a tearful voice, “Daddy, why don’t I have a mummy?” And Gods Cassian was fighting back his own tears at the hurt in her voice.

“Ottie, come here, sweetheart” then he was sitting up, pulling Ottie into his lap and cradling her against him as he wiped away her tears.

“We’ve never really talked about this, have we?” He asked, needing a little more time to gather his thoughts as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He knew this day would come eventually but it was still the hardest conversation he had ever had.

“Your mother, Nesta, and I were together for a few years before we had you. And when I found out she was pregnant, that you were in her belly, it was the happiest day of my life,” he pressed a kiss to her cheek as he gauged her reaction before continuing. “That is, of course, until you came into the world, and I finally got to meet you. You were the sweetest, tiniest thing I had ever seen, and I knew I loved you instantly,” Cassian smiled softly as Ottie shyly grinned and hid her face in his neck.

“But your mother realised that she wasn’t ready to be a mummy. And even though she loved you very much she had to leave so that she could deal with some things that had happened to her,” Ottie stayed silent against him, he could sense her processing his words. “Do you want to ask me any questions about her?”

Ottie stayed silent for a few more minutes, Cassian giving her time to wrap her head around everything as he soothingly rubbed a hand up and down her back whilst rocking her back and forth and pressing kisses to the top of her head.

“Will she come back?”

“I don’t know, princess,” A few more moments passed as Ottie sat in his arm.

“Do you love her?” Cassian couldn’t find it in himself to say a single bad word against Nesta. Despite her leaving him, leaving Ottie, without so much as a goodbye, he didn’t want to taint the image of her in his daughter’s mind.

“I love that she brought you to me.” That seemed to be enough of an answer as Ottie nodded her head in response and cuddled closer into him.

“You can ask me anything you want, okay? But how about we get some sleep?” Ottie stayed silent but nodded again, allowing him to shuffle back down the mattress, arms still wrapped around her as he soothed a hand over her hair.

Again, Cassian thought Ottie had fallen asleep when she asked in a voice barely above a whisper, “are you going to leave me too?”

The fear in her face had tears welling in his eyes as he adamantly said, “No, princess. Please don’t ever think that I’ll leave you. I’m not going anywhere. Even when you’re all grown up and don’t want me around anymore, you’re stuck with me. Okay, sweet girl?”

Ottie nodded with a small smile as the words sunk in, she reached up a hand and wiped away Cassian’s own tears with her chubby fingers as she sniffed back her own. “I love you, daddy.”

“I love you, Ottie. So, so much.”

Ottie finally drifted to sleep, one hand clenched around Cassian’s t-shirt, the other holding onto her teddy bear. Cassian, however, was so far from sleep now. Instead, he opted for watching his daughter sleep soundly against him, wondering, yet again, how he had gotten so lucky.

*****

Part 4

Tag List: @mis-lil-red @sarawritestories @beardburnsupersoldiers @eve175 @blushingfawnsposts @turtleshavesoulmates @slytherinindisguise @sleepylunarwolf

[lyrablack1883]

Illustration inspired from A pocket full of stones by @amywaterwings

You can watch the animatic here

This is the illustration for chapter 12, I’ve also done the illustration for chapter 3 here

It’s still summer, but the air is sharp with frost. Draco is standing next to the river Ouse, hands deep in his pockets. It’s strange to be back, after so long.

“Walk into a river with a pocket filled with stones, and declare your love,” Draco says, to no one but the wind and the gentle sound in his head—of a record spinning round and round. “If your love is true, the river will offer up the object of your affections, will give you back everything you desire. If your love be false, the river will take its price.”

Are you sure? the dark asks him, bleeding warm in his chest. It feels nice, against the icy grip of the river.

“It’s dark magic,” his father had said, that summer after sixth year as Draco stood in front of the boar, when Lucius had finally come for his son. “You have to mean it.”

Draco’s fingers are cold around the stones in his pockets as the water rises up, flowing across his arms, his chest, his throat.

He’s afraid, because the current’s fingers are ice at his throat, but he knows he means it. Knows how much he means it, this time.

“Please, give him back,” Draco says, and casts the spell. Magic dark as ink spills out of his wand and into the river. “I love him.”

The tides rise up, blooming and black. The current is hungry. Draco gasps once, twice, because the water is in his hair, his mouth, is all around him. He tries to breathe, finds that he can’t.

The river roars in his ears as the record spins round and round, still skipping

skipping

skipping.

Are you sure? the dark asks again, as the water rushes into his lungs.

And even as he’s dying, Draco knows that he is, that he means it, he means it, he means it.

Weightless and cold. Draco wonders, briefly, if this is how Virginia Woolf felt, in the moments before she died. And then he thinks of Potter.

If anyone could have saved me, Draco knows, it would have been you.

Bonus : (I can’t include the scene above the water cause the song is too short so this is just an additional illustration where they kissed underwater which didn’t happen. The scene in the fic is much more romantic please read it)

[bloodycyrano]

I want to lore dump about my BG3 storyline and OCs so bad, but at the same time I don't want to release any information before it would come out in the future chapters of my fanfic, so to stave off the dark urge, here's.... 🥁🥁🥁

Team Tadpole doing sweet things for each other part 2!

Sometimes, when Astarion has trouble resting at night, Gale will stay up with him and play chess- They started with card games, but Astarion cheats like a fox. He still cheats at chess, but not as often.

Karlach probably notices when her comrades are in pain after battle, and will hug a sack of rocks until they heat up to make a sort of makeshift heating pad for sore muscles.- Bonus points, She'll borrow some scented oils from Halsin to add an element of aromatherapy.

Gale has 100% done talis card readings for Team tadpole when they deal with heavy emotional stuff, if only to help them find their path forward. Maybe he isn't the best at verbal comfort, but magic is one thing he knows he can use for at least some benefit.

I feel like Gale also notices when people aren't dealing well with things, and will purposefully annoy Durge so they have someone to pick on and hopefully feel a little better afterwards. They're definitely the sort of friends that pretend to hate each other, but are there when you need them. Durge definitely brings out his petty side, but its all in good fun. Usually.

While maybe they have a bit of a rocky relationship, I also believe Durge would indulge Gales special interests and let him ramble about things, because they know what it's like to have to shut up to make other people happy. I also feel like Gale would return the favor and deliberately ask about weird, macabre things so that Durge actually has an excuse to bring up topics that interest them.

Wyll has a knitting hobby. You probably wouldn't expect it, but he definitely does. And he's really really good at it, too. He uses every holiday as an excuse to gift people things like socks, scarves, mittens, etc. And I mean EVERY holiday. Earth day, valentines day, national owlbear day (Which is totally not something he made up as an excuse to give people their presents early), etc. The thing is, he notices when people complain about their socks getting worn from traveling, and gets random ideas for gifts at 3 AM, and then spends the rest of the night knitting. He has also been known to make cute little knitted outfits for the group pets in the winter, because he thought Scratch was getting cold.

Adding onto this, Lae'zel is the only person Wyll is willing to go to for a blunt and honest opinion on the gifts he makes before he gives them. Lae'zel doesn't take this lightly, either. While maybe she doesn't show it, she takes this very seriously and is somewhat honored that Wyll came to her instead of anyone else.

Shadowheart tends to replenish Wylls yarn reserve without telling him as well. She asks Lae’zel what colours he's run out of, and then sneak some extra spools into his pack. Wyll still doesn't know who's been doing it, but he's thankful nonetheless. And it's one thing the cleric and the gith can actually be somewhat peaceful about.

Durge doesn't take all of their kills lightly. When it comes to someone they actually respected, there's a ritual they perform afterward that they read about in Withers old temple. They'll grind bone and ash into ink and take time to write out the names of those they respected, and bury it with the bodies. As well as little offerings as well. It isn't a short process either.. Durge will spend the entire night locked in their caravan burning incense, praying their name to Jergal in hopes that the spirit will find rest, and doing little things in honor of the dead.- It isn't hard for team tadpole to figure out when Durge has taken the life of someone they held a genuine respect for, and will be careful not to disturb them, or leave bones or herbs/flowers on the steps of their caravan. Karlach and Astarion will occasionally come to check on them. While maybe it doesn't happen often, it does happen. Withers was particularly surprise to begin receiving prayers after all this time, but it strengthened a sort of bond between the two.

[coffincestuous]

the progress report!! #3

happy march 1st!! kit9’s third progress report dropped today with a special bonus from nemlei!!

firat things first, we have The Entity in the thumbnail!! are they a little bigger to anyone else..? just me? anyways, the lights are a fun addition to the demon/dream world. i’m sure this has no importance whatsoever (lying)

next, we have… this. our dear protagonists caught in a compromising position, oh no!! seriously, though. what are they doing here? were they going to fuck in the car? good for them!! they don’t look very pleased to be disturbed by whoever this is, or disturbed at all. hopefully this isn’t anyone they used to know.

here, we have… the chapter two decay route vision area. you know, the one where andrew is chasing down ashley to murder her or get murdered.

yeah, that one.

it’s very interesting that we come back here. i wonder if this is still the decay route? also, why are we only seeing andrew’s little pixel sprite here? is she on one of the other sections? is this her vision or andrew’s? it seems to me that it’s ashley’s, considering we’ve been here before, but who knows!! there’s an axe and a signpost missing, and the tone of this preview reads a whole lot differently than the vision did at the end of chapter two.

i wonder what has prompted ashley to ask andrew what he wants? i wonder if he’ll be honest? i wonder if this is an important moment, or if it’s just them fucking around? god, i’m SO excited

little andy spotted!! and mrs graves. she is clearly unhappy about something, and i’m thinking it has to do with leyley. doesn’t it always, when it comes to mrs. graves? my guess is that she’s asking him to keep her out of trouble, but it’s just a guess. we’ve seen before that he only curls up in a ball like this when he’s really upset (and still does it as an adult). poor thing.

here, we see andrew with the entity in the thumbnail area, with the lights and everything. shout out to the little darkened souls in the far corners of the picture. our dear andrew is trying to negotiate with the demon.

i think that this is a huge moment in the game and the plot going forward!! assuming this is the burial route, ashley’s been asked to bring him along, AND he has that hex mark on his hand!! this demon is going to steal his soul!! ashley’s gonna be mad.

this could potentially happen in the decay route, too. if we assume the earlier dream/vision sequence is decay, this could be decay. maybe he’s going to meet the entity on his own regardless of what happens with ashley. again, who knows!!

[id: a screenshot of steam. the text reads “Next Episode. From the work completed so far, this episode will be the longest yet. Even in its unfinished state, it is roughly the length of both previous episodes combined. / Once finished, this episode will be released as a major content update, and work on the final episode will begin. / It is still too soon to give any release dates.” end id.]

before, nemlei had said episode three will be split into two separate chapters (one for each route), but maybe this has changed!! the length is… beyond my expectations, truthfully!! it’s longer than both episode one and two combined. holy shit??? that’s So Much Content. i think i will officially be losing my mind upon its release, and even more so when the game is finished. omg!!!!!!

finally, we have THIS!!!!

thank you nemlei. she knows what her fans want to see :33

(i think i need to set this as my phone background or something. it’s SO CUTE!!! i don’t even know where to start expressing my absolute JOY with this image!!!)

[emmitaaa4]

Minor HOFAS spoilers ig?

The Walmart bonus chapter just leaked and good lord some people need to be for real. I'm so tired of people picking and choosing evidence.

So you're telling me that *gasp* Azriel's shadows seem to dance when he hums?? they react to sound/music?? no way. people from all sides of the fandom have been saying that for years (and use it for different arguments), and looks like ppl are still tying anything they can to feed their ship--which is fine but at least make it somewhat accurate.

The above is the last page of the Az/Bryce/Nesta chapter, and just as a refresher, this is the oh-so controversial phrases from the Az bonus chapter:

"(...) one of his shadows went out to dance with it (gwyn's breath) before twirling back to him. like it heard some silent music." and "(...) he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. could have sworn his shadows sang in answer."

I'm confused, which is it? Was the shadow's reaction to her breath & the singing he heard all metaphorical, thereby hinting at a mating bond between gwyn & az (as in "music between souls")? Or was it rather azriel's shadows reacting to a literal sound coming from someone who has arguably been hinted at having some voice/song-related abilities? Because if it is the first, then this new HOFAS excerpt is completely unrelated. Well unless Azriel has a mating bond with himself? pleaseee make it make sense I beg. And if the second is true, it would mean that for someone to be able of making his shadows dance, they'd have to have similar powers as him... its just gonna fuel the lightsinger theories (which btw approx 5 ppl are saying means that gWyn is eViL) so this literally changes nothing. nada. absolument rien.

Oh also.

"He says no partner right now, aka NO FUCKING ELRIEL. ELRIEL IS DEAD." (no hate to whoever posted that btw)

He literally rushes out that answer. Idk about you guys but to me the poor man still seems internally dead over the whole mate existential crisis, which as far as we know was left with him wondering "what if the cauldron was wrong". Sidenote but if I understood correctly, this all happens 2-3 months post acosf and Bryce spends ±5 days in Prythian, so it is very likely that it is all set during Acotar 5, and that the events of HOFAS in general are happening while Az is separated from the other MC (ie. the acotar5 FMC).

Regardless of all I just said, I am going to ask people once again to be for real. cause this whole chapter Azriel keeps glaring at Nes when she is about to reveal too much info, so WHY would he be mentioning Elain (or literally anyone he cares about) to someone who he is said to be highly suspicious of? make it make sense x2

Almost forgot. Last thing.

"Azriel said that Nesta killed the King! He didn't credit Elain!"

... no? for context, this is what Az said:

See my second point above. He told Bryce exactly what Nes did, and nothing more: she beheaded Hybern. We could speculate about what his look at Truthteller made him think of... but tbh I'll leave it to someone else cause perso I dont really see the point.

I am getting tired guys... guess who finally understands what "fandom fatigue" is.

-----quick edit-----

I don't mean to sound hypocritical by tagging ships, cause tbh i dont even wanna put acotar ship tags to this, mais bon c'est la vie et j'en peux plus. this fandom is kind of a mess. Goodnight loves ♡

[neixins]

happy gijaeha gtuesday! what’s an underrated moment you love? 🎤

THANK U FOR INDULGING ME LIKE THIS <3 i couldn’t possibly pick one single moment so i’ll just keep going until i can’t add any more images

i’m gonna stick to truly underrated moments btw, so no hot springs bonus chapter, no “if you feel the way i do, that means i can trust you to have my back in battle”, no love potion shenanigans, no “he’s stronger than i am” and adjacent moments, no “it’s refreshing to hear you discuss important things”, no cool battle couple moments, no “if you keep being so reckless, you’ll get yourself killed”, no “you can still live” (and definitely not those last two in relation to each other…... that’s already its own post actually). on that note, i’m also not gonna be including anything i’ve already posted about even if it’d technically count otherwise. was this an excuse to mention all of those moments anyway? perhaps! but u asked for underrated and underrated i shall deliver. ready? let’s go! <3

[transcription note: all the upcoming images are panels from “yona of the dawn”. end note.]

the first moment that comes to mind is this one from ch 135. like gija doesn’t tend to think things through often (he’s far from stupid; he’s just not a Thinker), but this—finding a way to use mizari’s interest in their powers to their advantage, in this case specifically to help jaeha—is just so endlessly interesting to me

[ID: part of a page consisting of multiple panels. mizari is clapping excitedly, saying, “that was incredible! how wonderful! how do you enlarge it? if i trained hard, could i do it too?”; jaeha is breathing heavily, visibly exhausted, and gija watches him before saying, “could you…bring us some meat dishes?”; mizari looks confused as he asks, “meat dishes?”; gija says, “jaeha’s gotten awfully anemic.”; yun adds, “some liver from a cow or a bird would be best.”. end ID.]

i also love it when he’s not using any of those braincells that he clearly has though <3 like this moment in ch 155. it’s also really sweet how he just continues chilling beside jaeha throughout the rest of the scene despite doing an absolutely abysmal job of hiding his hand

[ID: a panel showing jaeha and gija in a hot spring; jaeha says, “another guest, hmm? we won’t be able to leave for a while.”; gija moves to stand in front of him, holding out his arms, and says, “you can hide behind me, then!”; jaeha responds, “you shouldn’t have your hand out where anyone can see it, either.”. end ID.]

married couple behavior from ch 129. leaving out the previous panel so that i can include more moments but this happens after jaeha calls them the beautiful monsters of kohka

[ID: a panel showing gija as he turns towards jaeha to correct him, saying, “the four dragon warriors.”; jaeha responds, “fine, fine. what he said.”. end ID.]

speaking of which, i love it so much when they have basically the same reaction to things (the examples below are from ch 172 but there’s more i’m not including). this becomes more prevalent later on which is just such a cute detail like yessss impact each other’s lives all the way down to picking up each other’s mannerisms <3

[ID: the first panel shows jaeha and gija leaning over the edge of a cart with similar expressions of surprise; jaeha asks, “algira? voldo?!” and gija asks, “why are you here?”; algira shushes them. in the second panel, zeno says, “the fellow sure is popular. when did that happen?”; gija and jaeha are standing beside him, both staring wide-eyed. end ID.]

this bit from ch 203 is soooo unbelievably funny to me. “i can’t take u guys” he says, holding onto gija……

[ID: a panel showing yona and the four dragons. she says, “but…i’ve only just been permitted to see you all here.”; jaeha says, “we’ll go through the window. even if we’re caught, i doubt they’ll try to harm us.”; gija says, “great! let’s go.” as he climbs onto jaeha’s back, wrapping his arms around his shoulders; sinha is clinging onto gija’s shoulder while zeno is doing the same to jaeha; jaeha says, “hey, i can’t take you guys.”; his hands are hooked beneath gija’s legs, holding him up. end ID.]

“woohoo! you’re so cool, gija!” from ch 159. they’re never EVER beating those allegations

[ID: a panel showing gija stepping forward, saying, “everyone, step aside. i’ll handle this.”; behind him, jaeha cheers, “woohoo! you’re so cool, gija!”; they’re both shirtless. end ID.]

love it when jaeha’s like “don’t ruin your pretty face” whenever gija’s acting feral. the example below is from ch 35 but there’s also a similar moment in ch 86.

[ID: a panel showing jaeha saying, “good grief. gija’s going to ruin his pretty face.”. end ID.]

who would i be if i didn’t include a panel where they’re badly injured and covered in blood? :) i’m just obsessed with the exasperated fondness here (also with gija’s chronic fatigue and other assorted issues codedness) (ch 143)

[ID: a panel showing gija slumped against jaeha, the psychomimes indicating that he’s woozy; jaeha smiles slightly as he says, “good grief. you’re nowhere near recovered.”. end ID.]

there are many candidates vying for the final spot but i gotta give it to this panel from ch 225. there are many implications one can glean from this if one is a yaoi scholar like myself but also just look at them. LOOK!!! THEM <3

[ID: a panel showing gija and jaeha asleep next to each other; gija is sleeping soundly and reaching towards jaeha with his dragon hand, poking the side of his face; jaeha is frowning. end ID.]

[bp4545]

Butterflies Dying (My Sunshine - Part 5 )

Word count: 1k its pre short:)

Warnings: heartbreak? there isn't really much warnings for this chapter, its more the rising action.

Summary: All feelings for Draco evaporate when the ugly truth is revealed...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6.

---

You don't go the kitchens for the next few nights.

You can't bear to see him again when you know that he has eyes for someone else. And that person wasn't just anyone, no slytherin, no pureblood, no bratty rich kid, it was Hermione Granger. 

Maybe that's why you were so upset. Because you knew that she was everything you that you were, except she could offer more. 

You can't lie, you miss your usual meetings with Draco, but you need to stay away from him, at all costs.

He notices. Draco can tell you're avoiding him. You dodge him during class, you don't save him a glance during breakfast, you don't come to the kitchens at night to talk to him anymore. He misses it. 

He doesn't know exactly what he did wrong. Or what might've happened on your end. He just knows he needs to talk to you. So that's exactly what he did.

---

"Y/n!"

You hear someone shout behind you after class that day. You keep walking, because that voice haunts the back of your head.

"Y/n, please." you feel Draco yank you backwards by your bag, taking you by surprise and making you stumble. You turn to him with anger written on your face, scaring him just a little bit.

"Watch it Malfoy!" 

Malfoy?

"Listen y/n please tell me what's wrong why are you avoiding me? Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine" you say with no expression.

"C'mon y/n, I can tell when you're clearly not fine." he rolls his eyes.

"I'm just on my period" you say, hoping he will buy it and leave you alone.

"Y/n you were on your period only 2 weeks ago?"

"It's irregular" you shrug.

"Y/n please don't be difficult with me" he says while rubbing his temples. "I just want things to go back to normal between us, please."

It was different hearing Draco Malfoy say please.

"You like Hermione right?" you blurt out. His eyes go wide and he stutters a bit before looking you dead in the eyes.

"How did you know?..." he says, taken aback. 

"Draco I see you staring at her in like practically every class." As much as it hurt.

He groans in response. "So what does that have to do with you not talking to me?"

"Because you're only talking to me because you know I'm friends with Hermione" you say "Right?"

"W-well yeah that was generally the plan." he sighs. "But I really do enjoy talking to you y/n, it's just a bonus that I can ask you questions about her and ask you for advice."

"No Draco, listen I really don't want to do this" you admit "I don't want to get between you and her, or give the wrong advice to you. I wish you the best with her."

"O-oh" he says slightly surprised. He wasn't very accustomed to hearing girls say no to him. "What does that mean for us? Are we still friends, will I still see you tonight?" 

No. That's what you should have said. "Maybe"

He flashes a smile. Usually it would make butterflies erupt in your stomach, now they were dying. You felt sick. You wanted to get away from his presence.

"Great see you tonight" he said. A hint of excitement evident in his voice.

He did not see you that night.

---

After talking to Draco that one time, you haven't spoken a word to him since. You decided that it wasn't worth it chasing a boy who is interested in someone else and would only break your heart.

You spent more time with your own friends, focused more on your studies, and slowly forgot about the whole situation. If you didn't matter to him then why should he matter to you?

Being around the ones who really cared for you healed you. It mended all those feelings of hurt, talking to Daphne, it made you smile, partying with Justin, Hannah and Zach, and it made you laugh, all those late night talks with Chris.

Nevertheless, you could never tear your eyes away from the blonde boy. It seemed as if everywhere you went he was looking at you with a pleading expression, maybe a slight bit of hurt; because you stood him up that night. Although you never actually said yes.

You shook away those thoughts as you focused back to the lecture. Transfigurations was never your strong point, but you could feel a certain pair of eyes boring into the back of your head longingly. 

Moments like those made you wonder if he ever felt the same way, but then you remembered the way he looked at her. The way his eyes lit up like she was his whole world, what you would give to be loved like that by someone.

The bell echoed across the room and you mindlessly started packing your stuff to finally see Daphne at the end of the day. Every Friday evening you two did the same thing. A girls catch up in your corner of the library, where you would just talk about all your drama, all the gossip, and all your worries for the next week.

"Daphne!" you shout across the hall, bustling with students at the end of the day. You wave your arms around catching her attention.

She walks up to you, and gives you a hug. You two have no classes together this year, which is a bummer because you rarely get to see her unless its your catch up day.

As the two of you laugh and make your way to the library, you see a couple heading out to presumably Hogsmeade, dressed in warm clothing and hand in hand. It's odd, because the couple looks unrecognisable, until you see a familiar platinum blonde figure laugh, and a girl with long brown frizzy hair kiss his nose...

There's no way.

You turn to Daphne and she's looking at you already.

"Is that Hermione and Draco?" You ask her, hoping that she wouldn't say what she was about to say.

"Yeah.." she started "I overheard Draco talking about it in the Slytherin common rooms this morning. They started dating just this Wednesday, apparently he's absolutely smitten for her."

Your heart breaks as Daphne confirms that they are most definitely dating.

That was all you needed to hear, the butterflies were dead.

---

a/n: This was a really hard chapter to write because I didn't know how to make it sound super heartfelt but heartbreaking:/

[thelastarchangelaskblog]

Seventh Year: A Finale Bonus Scene 4

So...I masterfully restrained myself from putting too much of certain things into the chapter. It would have been unnecessary and just padded it. That being said!! I did want to write it and that's what the bonus stuff is for. So here we are!

...I only did three scenes at first. And then @alleythegaycat mentioned something else so I had to do it. And I didn't only want four scenes so I asked for a fifth idea and @dunerowl offered a great suggestion so I went with it.

Tags...it's...definitely still PG-13? But also it's...very sensual? Look, I don't know how to describe it considering it's all from Michael's POV. It's very different than if it were from a human's POV.

The last scene is right before the graduation party the seventh years hold. And is the one where Michael is like "I am not thinking of this while Gabriel is here."

I was not expecting it to be 9,000 words but here we are. Here we are! Please...feedback feeds the muse.

Bonus Scene 1

Bonus Scene 2

Bonus Scene 3

**

“This is private?” Draco inspected the classroom with a critical eye.

“I’ve never seen anyone else in here.” Michael took the room in once more, this time trying to see it how Draco might. There was dust over the desks and tables. Old cauldrons lined the walls, precariously stacked and seeming one wrong breath away from toppling over.

“Clearly. I can see our footprints.” Draco looked down at where their footsteps had disturbed the ancient dust. “What was this used for?”

“Alchemy, as far as I can ascertain.”

Draco’s eyebrows went up. “Hogwarts hasn’t had an alchemical class in years. This place really hasn’t seen anyone aside from you since the last time they even had a class.”

Maybe the dust was an issue… The problem with finding an out-of-way place that no one knew about was that dust was to be expected.

Michael glanced down, then cleaned it.

Draco made a startled sound as the classroom suddenly found itself cleaner than it had been since its construction.

“Is that better? I didn’t think about the dust.” Michael would have to do the same for the other rooms.

Draco smiled at him, warm and affectionate. “When you said you had an idea for a place no one would find, I didn’t think you meant a classroom.”

“No one likes exploring the dungeons,” Michael pointed out. “There are other places here, too, including some on the upper floors if you’d like.”

“We’re here now.” Draco reached out to take his hand. “Both of us done with the night… I admit I wasn’t expecting a classroom.”

Again with the classroom…

“I can find a better place in the future,” Michael offered hesitantly.

“I didn’t say it was bad.” Draco was eyeing the desks. “There are a lot of places to sit here.”

Right, comfort had to be taken into account, too. Several of the chairs found themselves adorned with pillows, and there was definitely amusement coming from Draco now.

“Come on.” Draco tugged him back towards one of the newly cushioned chairs, which stretched out into a bench before they sat down. He huffed on noticing this but didn’t say anything, just tugging Michael down. “At any rate, this is better than a broom closet.”

“You said you didn’t want a broom closet.”

“Like I said,” Draco said, radiating fond amusement and love, “better than a broom closet.”

It was going to be better tonight than it had been the last time outside the Great Hall. Michael would be better. It made no sense for him to lose control like that when he was better than that and could control himself better than an angel fresh out of Creation. 

And he did know how to kiss. Theoretically speaking. It was just moving muscles and that was all a vessel was about. 

When he leaned in to kiss Draco, he felt the curve of a smile pressed against his own lips, though it faded quickly. He focused on the physical sensations, on Draco’s scent (that familiar cologne and shampoo, the dust they’d walked through to get here, the cold wet musty smell of dungeons), the sound of his breathing (quickly picking up), and the hand running up his own back towards his neck.

There was also taste, which was a little odd at first with the sense still Michael’s worst. But with how focused he was on feeling with his vessel, there was no sign of atoms but just Draco. It wasn’t a taste he had the words to encapsulate in English beyond a faint hint of what he’d had for dinner so many hours ago.

Draco made a low noise in the back of his throat, deeper than his usual voice, his grip on the back of Michael’s neck tightening, nails scratching over his skin. It was a different sensation than what Michael was used to, sparking other nerves that usually didn’t get stimulated.

There was a distracting warmth at the edge of his senses, at the edge of what he could pick up with solely human senses. It warmed him from the inside out, buzzing through his Grace where he kept himself tucked into his vessel. But even as contained as he could make himself, he wasn’t just his vessel, and as close as Draco was to him, his soul brushed up against Michael’s own true form.

Just…focus.

On his own breathing, which was a little unsteadier than normal, and on the scratch of nails over the back of his neck.

Draco made another noise, then pulled Michael in a bit more, and the warmth magnified.

There was love and affection and disbelief and happiness and joylovehappinesswarmthpleasure. And the love tingled through him and before Michael could fully register what he was doing he reached out, curling around Draco and soaking it in, leaning into that warmth and love that was so different from what he was familiar with.

He heard something else, another noise, but it was distant.

The love pressed against him magnified, sparking through him. There was…something…

He shuddered, and something cracked—

Alarm sparked from the warmth pressed against him, which jolted him back into awareness and the realization he had once again overreached.

Agh, fuck.

Michael pulled back so quickly it left him cold, and he found both Draco and himself sprawled over the floor, the bench they’d been sitting on split in two and the desk which had been by the bench in a similar state. He was sprawled over Draco, and it took a moment too long to connect with his limbs enough to shift off.

He still felt a little disconnected, like his vessel wasn’t quite him. His Grace buzzed with warmth, lingering remnants of the love he’d felt from Draco curling through him.

Draco’s grip on his shoulder tightened, and Michael stopped moving, now only half lying on Draco instead of fully.

“You stopped…” Draco swallowed, breathless. “Stopped glowing.”

Michael made to speak, only to realize he didn’t have the oxygen for even a word. He breathed in, then said, “Sorry.” He didn’t recognize his own voice.

Draco laughed, then pulled him down to kiss him again, and Michael didn’t have the time to steel himself before that love surged through him. He pressed back into that love unthinkingly, felt Draco shiver beneath him, then pulled back, this time pushing right past the resistance at his shoulder to sit up.

His heart was pounding, he distantly registered. His human heart was beating faster than normal. Even his breathing was a little ragged.

Draco was lying in the broken splinters of the bench and the desk, looking at Michael and seeming just a little hurt.

Just…  Damn it.

Michael leaned forward, grabbing hold of Draco’s hand and pulling him up off the splinters. “I – sorry.” He kept saying it like it would fix anything.

Draco blinked at him, flushed. “What are you apologizing for?”

Michael gave him a disbelieving look, then darted his eyes past Draco’s shoulder to the mess.

“That was a little surprising,” Draco admitted, “but we’re both fine, aren’t we?”

“You might not have been.” Michael sighed, brushing off some splinters on Draco’s robe.

“You’ve never hurt me,” Draco told him, straightening Michael’s collar. “Not once, even when you were really angry.”

Somehow. Even though Draco had been present during some of Michael’s worst moments in this world. “That could always change.”

“You didn’t hurt me now either,” Draco pointed out. “I didn’t even notice until we were on the floor.”

Michael grimaced, burning with embarrassment. “I didn’t even notice at all.” How could he not have? How did he get so distracted again?

He startled when Draco kissed him once more, his grip on Draco’s robes flexing.

“No one will find us here,” Draco reminded him in a low murmur. It wasn’t just love pouring off him but also fond amusement and gentle affection. “Wasn’t that the point?”

That had been the point. The other (more private) point had been that Michael was not going to lose it like a newly Created angel. He did manage to not lean into Draco’s soul this time, though he couldn’t stop the shudder through his true form.

“It’s not just for me,” Draco said when Michael said nothing. “I said you can also do what works for you.”

Michael swallowed, focusing on breathing, on that flow of oxygen. It helped a little. “I don’t need to.”

Draco scratched his nails over the back of Michael’s neck, pressing his forehead against Michael’s. “We don’t need to do this either.”

“…But you want to.”

“Then why don’t you do what you want?”

Michael brushed off one more splinter on Draco’s robes, breathing in and out. This wasn’t just for him. This was also for Draco. “Just this is fine,” he said after a long moment.

Draco seemed skeptical about this. “Michael.”

Since Michael could do this now, he kissed him. Draco made a surprised noise now, fingers flexing against Michael’s neck.

“You – this isn’t over,” Draco muttered, and the fond annoyance was easier to buffer than the love had been. A little bit more of a familiar ground for Michael to push to the back.

But it wasn’t too long before the annoyance was gone and the warmth and love curled against him. It was softer than previous times but that was almost… It was almost worse/better than when it was firmer. It was so much gentler yet harder to ignore for how it just beckoned.

There were a few more desks and chairs that were broken that night. 

-

It was a sitting room this time. The furniture was old yet still intact due to the innate magic of Hogwarts. Judging by the pictures and some of the paperwork in the desk drawers, this had belonged to a professor several centuries ago.

It was nonetheless better than a classroom. Or it should be. The atmosphere seemed better… Michael even remembered to make sure it was clean.

“There’s even a window.” Draco admired the view of the forest. If Michael wanted to, he could see the top of his own tree in the distance. “I’m surprised no one uses it anymore.”

“It misses the one who used to be here,” Michael said, brushing his fingers over a moving portrait of a red-haired witch and her dark-haired companion. “When she passed, it hid itself.”

Draco looked back at him in surprise. “Really? Then…is it okay that we’re here?”

Michael smiled at him. “It doesn’t mind our intentions. The professor…she had her own partner she would bring in here. It brings back fond memories.”

Draco turned red, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “Ah. I see. So…you…essentially told it – the room – what we would be doing?”

“In a way.” Michael considered Draco, then slowly turned the portrait around. “I can still find us a broom closet if you would prefer.”

Draco laughed into his hand, then closed the distance between them. The flood of affection and love from him was startling. Michael braced himself, flattening his hand against the wooden surface of the desk. “Shut up about the broom closet.” His voice was fond. “I can’t believe you asked a room if it was okay if we used this space for making out.”

“You just wondered if it was fine if we stayed in here,” Michael pointed out.

“I did.” Draco smiled at him a moment longer, still radiating so much love and affection that Michael had to struggle to not lean into it, to keep himself tucked into his vessel.

He should have expected the kiss.

Michael did respond to it – he did. He pressed back into it, but he had to remember to not lean into the warmth of Draco’s soul. He focused on the brush of Draco’s thumb behind his ear, the brush of his fingers over the back of his neck, then shuddered as a burst of love sparked over his Grace and he barely avoided responding.

Draco pulled back some time later, breathing ragged. “You’re…not breathing.”

Michael swallowed, registering that sometime in the interim his own hands had settled at Draco’s waist. He drew in a breath, trying to settle, only to be distracted by Draco kissing his cheek and how that affectionate love fizzled over his form. He swallowed again, looking at the wallpaper on the wall over Draco’s shoulder. It was something different than Draco. “Breathing,” he managed. “I don’t need it.”

“You can relax,” Draco murmured, kissing his cheek again. “You made sure no one would find us here.”

If he relaxed he was going to do something embarrassing again. Namely breaking something in this very kind sitting room.

“Michael.” Draco kissed him again, and all Michael could register was love and affection and soft happiness.

…No, focus, just concentrate. He could do this and not be…

He focused on his vessel, on the feel of Draco’s robes beneath his hands and how he could feel the movement of Draco’s ribs against both his own chest and his hands. He focused on the slide of lips against his own, the sound of Draco’s breathing (shaky and ragged and with small noises only particularly keen hearing could pick up), the heat of someone else’s skin pressed against his own.

He slid his own hands up a little, cautious, and there was something like a small sigh from Draco, and suddenly warmth blossomed against Michael and it was Draco’s soul.

He responded to that warmth instinctively, reaching out and touching it. It was like touching lightning, a buzz of energy, though it was warmer and softer and while it didn’t reach back out it also didn’t pull away, just remaining pressed against him and brightening as he leaned into it.

There was a distant noise.

The feeling of warmth strengthened, responding positively to Michael. It was happinessjoyloveaffectionsurpriselove.

There was a cracking sound, multiple things falling, and then there was flustered shock brushing along Michael. Shock was much colder than the rest, even with the warmth of the soul – Draco – still close enough to touch.

Soul – shit, he’d overreached again.

Michael pulled back, tucking into his vessel and blinking human eyes to find that they were on the floor between two halves of what once had been a desk. Papers fluttered around them and there were a couple of frames on the floor – the same frames that had been on the desk.

Draco stared up at him, red, breathless, and eyes dark. He seemed a little dazed but surprised; he was also thankfully unharmed.

Michael’s vessel was shaking slightly, fine trembles running through the muscles. He swallowed, forcing several breaths and focusing on that – the rhythm of it. His heart slowed where it was pounding in his chest.

“Sorry,” Michael managed, glad his voice sounded relatively normal.

“Don’t apologize.” Draco gave him a sharp look that wasn’t quite as effective considering how flushed he still looked. “That was…good.” He swallowed. “Felt you again.”

Michael made a noise of agreement, trying not to look at the desk he had apparently split into two. It looked like he’d put too much weight on it, judging from how the wood in two places was a little caved in. “We keep ending up on the floor.”

Draco shrugged, the shock fading to something more amused. “If we stay on the floor, we won’t have to worry about that.”

That did not seem at all comfortable. Michael shot him a look before he started moving to sit them both up.

Draco’s hands around his neck nudged him to stop and before Michael could ask he was being kissed again. That warm soul – Draco – hadn’t moved (why would it when Draco was still in the same place?) but the love was back and he leaned into it, only just aware of a faint noise that sounded like him.

Noise – Michael focused on that and suddenly was aware of how his own heart was ticking up again, his vessel responding, before his awareness turned back over to the warmth blooming in his Grace and how he couldn’t stop feeling Draco’s love and affection. Every time he tried, his focus spotty and catching only bits of the physical (his own heart, his breathing, the shifting of cloth under him), he was distracted by the constant hum of Draco’s soul – that love that was so different from what he’d felt before from his siblings or even his human parents.

He did pull back a few times, trying to refocus, get a little distance, but Draco kept pulling him back in. If he wanted to, he could put a stop to this, but he didn’t really want to. Not with that heady warmth seeping into him and how it buzzed along his Grace.

But he should – he should—

He felt Draco’s hand against his neck, his breath against his cheek, and a stray thought that brushed past his Grace. We’re alone—

He shivered, his true form shuddering and maybe his vessel as well – he wasn’t sure – and melted into it.

Nothing else broke that night, so maybe Draco had a point about staying on the floor.

-

“Do you want to be caught?” Michael managed, shivering as that warm soul brushed up against him and love sparked through his Grace. He swallowed, hands tightening in Draco’s robes as Draco kissed him again.

“No one likes the third floor,” Draco murmured. “Stories of Fluffy keep circulating.”

Michael couldn’t quite place who Fluffy was supposed to be and his concentration scattered when Draco kissed him again, that warm adoring love washing over him. He might have made a noise. He wasn’t sure.

“F-Fluffy?” Michael tried to ask, to keep himself focused on something other than Draco’s soul, on the importance of hiding them. He wasn’t sure how well he was succeeding. The barrier he’d hastily put up right on noticing Draco’s intent was the last thing he wanted to concentrate on but also the most important.

There was no immediate answer, just Draco kissing him a little longer, radiating love and happiness.

Michael leaned into it unthinkingly, relaxing into that love and into the kiss, his attention narrowing in on Draco, when there was a loud thumping sound and the sounds of someone shushing another. He jolted, snapping backwards and hitting a torch, which wobbled precariously before he flung a hand out and caught the edge of it before it could fall.

The barrier – it was still up. Only barely.

Michael pulled the torch back into place, attention split between Draco, who had frozen against him, and the students who had ventured into the dusty corridor.

There were a group of three second years from Ravenclaw hovering only five feet away and scrabbling to pick up a book bag that had fallen to the floor. The straps were broken, which explained the sound.

“We’re not supposed to be here,” one whispered frantically. “We’ll get eaten by the dog!”

“I have beef jerky. No way that’s going to happen.”

The one cleaning up his books looked up, eyebrows raised. “What – you have enough for a dog with three heads?”

“I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we?”

“Just shut up and hurry before we get caught by something other than the three-headed dog! Didn’t you see that torch almost fall over?”

Draco muffled his breathing into Michael’s shoulder, not moving as the three students continued to whisper fervently to each other as they scurried away. It wasn’t until they were gone that he looked up at Michael, giving him a slightly sheepish smile.

“Fluffy?” Michael asked again now that he actually could.

“Hagrid’s dog,” Draco said.

“I see.” Michael did not see.

“He had a giant three-headed dog, apparently,” Draco thankfully explained further. “It was guarding the philosopher’s stone here that Potter went after.”

Once again, Michael reflected on Dumbledore’s life choices. Really. Just what was up with that man?

He was promptly distracted from further thoughts of Dumbledore by Draco kissing him again.

Oh. No. He was not—

Michael had the barest presence of mind to whisk them both to the sitting room they had been in several nights ago. Draco made a startled noise into the kiss at the abrupt transportation, his emotions fracturing into something more surprised.

It was cooler than the love, and Michael was able to refocus. The desk was behind Draco, and he pushed him backwards towards it before leaning in to reinitiate the kiss since it was what Draco wanted.

There was a smile pressed against his lips before Draco cupped his neck and pressed back into him, humming. The surprise faded, morphing into soft delight that tickled at Michael.

Michael tilted his head into the kiss, bracing one hand against the surface of the desk as he leaned in. The wood was hard and smooth, some of the grains catching against his fingertips, though he was soon distracted from that by a soft noise from Draco and delightpleasurelovehappinessadorationtendernesslove.

Shuddering, Michael leaned into that affection, the love that soul so freely offered.

The desk had been fixed before they left the last time.

It was once again broken, and Draco really did have a point about just staying on the floor.

-

When they started packing up their books to return to the Common Rooms for the night, Michael was stopped by Draco’s hand on his wrist.

“Stay?” Draco murmured, leaning in to whisper it more easily into Michael’s ear. It was unnecessary since Michael would be able to hear him even across the Great Hall if he enhanced his hearing.

Michael tilted his head, then looked up at the others. Zabini and Greengrass simply gave him nods and swept out of the room with their bags. Ginny looked faintly amused and Neville elbowed her, using the motion to nudge her along.

“I’ll be along later,” Michael told the others.

“Right,” Ernie said, “don’t be too late?”

“You’re saying this to the being who’s always out late,” Susan pointed out, amused.

“I need to feel at least somewhat responsible.”

“You’re not even prefect,” Justin said, poking Ernie’s arm. “Come on. Let’s leave these two to it.”

“It’s my turn for rounds tonight anyway,” Hannah said. “I’ll see you in the morning!”

“Have fun,” Luna said cheerily.

“Luna,” Draco hissed, flushing.

Luna beamed at him, patting Draco’s shoulder and then taking Ginny’s hand to tug her outside the room before Ginny could start teasing Draco. Neville gave an awkward wave and left before he could think any further on the matter of why Draco wanted Michael to stay behind.

When the door clicked shut behind the last of Michael’s friends, he turned back to Draco. Draco looked a little nervous, shy, and flustered, not quite meeting Michael’s eyes.

Michael studied him a moment longer, then leaned in to kiss his temple. There was a startled sound, Draco jolting.

“Whatever it is,” Michael said gently, “I won’t judge you.”

Draco stared at him, swallowing. There was noticeable hesitation from him, something shy and wanting, before he slowly leaned in and dropped his head to Michael’s shoulder. The position was a little awkward given how they were sitting in chairs, but all Michael could feel from him was a need to be closer.

Michael slid an arm around him, mindful of the chairs, and dropped a kiss to the top of Draco’s head. Slowly, carefully, he also wrapped his Grace along Draco’s soul, pushing reassurance and love into him. There was a very slight shiver from Draco at this, and he pressed in closer.

“Do you want to do this here?” Michael asked quietly. “Or somewhere a little more comfortable?”

Draco considered it. “This is private.”

Michael glanced towards the side of the room. A couch obligingly popped into existence. It was a very comfy couch, reminiscent of the ones in the Hufflepuff Common Room. “We can stay here, but this doesn’t seem very comfortable for you.”

“…Did you just make a couch?”

“…No.” It had been the room.

Draco muffled a laugh into Michael’s shoulder, then picked his head up to kiss him. A rush of warm, affectionate love seeped into Michael where he was still wrapped around Draco. He made a small noise in the kiss, fingers flexing on Draco’s shoulder, his next breath far too shuddery.

When he pulled back, there was something far too keen in Draco’s eyes. He clearly hadn’t missed Michael’s reaction. “Well, since you asked the room so nicely.”

The chairs were quickly abandoned, Draco tugging Michael to his feet and pulling him over to the couch. He evaluated it critically before flopping down onto it by the armrest, his weight pulling Michael down as well. Michael let himself be drawn in, picking up that low level want for closeness.

What he didn’t expect was for Draco to immediately pull him in for a kiss, his hand at the back of Michael’s neck. He braced himself, one hand at the armrest behind Draco and the second at the backrest, resisting Draco fully pulling him in.

Draco leaned up into him for a moment longer. “Michael.” His tone was reproving. “You’re not that heavy.”

Michael still did not follow the tug closer. “Is this what you want?” he asked.

Draco kissed him again, lingering. Michael had pulled slightly back from earlier, but the wash of warm love and soft affection and adoration was impossible to ignore. Michael’s grip on the couch faltered, something crunching that shouldn’t have been crunched.

“I’m fine,” Draco said when Michael jolted back. “It’s just the couch. Come here.” He kissed Michael again before he could even respond, the pressure at the back of Michael’s neck urging him closer.

There was faint amusement in the love now, but the love was still the most prominent piece. Love and also the low level simmering want.

It wasn’t… It wasn’t a want that Michael was familiar with, not like the kind he’d seen from other humans over the years. It was something more innocent, just a desire to be closer and for comfort.

Michael pulled himself apart just enough to speak. “Is everything all right?”

Draco’s fingers flexed against Michael’s neck. He looked up at him, grey eyes dark. “Yes. Studying is just driving me mad, and you’re driving me mad by not relaxing.”

Michael ducked his head slightly, chastised. “Do you…want to relax?”

An unexpected kiss was pressed to his forehead. “Yes, Michael. With you. If you can manage that.” The last bit was wry, though colored with fond amusement.

“I can manage that.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Draco said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you relax in all the years I’ve known you.”

Michael frowned, only to blink when Draco kissed the spot between his eyebrows.

“It’s not a challenge,” Draco said. “Just…come here, won’t you?”

This time when Draco pulled him down, Michael let him. Draco was leaning back against the armrest, one leg over the side of the couch while the other was stretched out along the back of the couch, in the dip between the cushions and the backrest.

Michael braced himself slightly with the hand at the armrest, though he let go of the back of the couch, brushing off bits of fabric before sliding it along Draco’s neck. He rubbed his thumb over Draco’s jaw, focusing on the physical sensation of his skin and Draco’s shaky breaths.

Draco leaned up into him, his other arm around Michael and pulling him closer. That burning warmth of love and affection bumped up against Michael’s own Grace, and he slipped, dropping a little closer towards him.

Focus, focus.

There was – maybe he could distract Draco. There were some – some other things he could do beyond just…this. Draco wanted to relax.

Michael broke the kiss, scattering more over Draco’s cheeks and then towards his jaw. There was a surprised noise that vibrated against Michael’s thumb where it was pressed against his neck. “Relax,” he murmured against his jaw. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Draco made another surprised noise, this one a little more high-pitched, at Michael speaking against his jaw. “But – you…” He swallowed, breathing in raggedly. “You…”

“I’m here.” Michael kissed his jaw again. “My idea of relaxing isn’t quite the same as yours.”

There was burst of laughter that broke into another surprised gasp when Michael rubbed over his neck and kissed him again. The flood of disbelieving love hit him like a star, bright and overwhelming.

Michael was barely aware of his own surprised noise, the way he shuddered against Draco, and he leaned into it unthinkingly. There was an answering shiver below him, and Draco’s grip on him tightened.

No, focus—

There was the slightest taste of salt on Draco’s skin. Salt and the soap he used, though the latter was fainter now. There was the fast beat of Draco’s heart, thrumming against the thin skin of his neck and right under Michael’s lips. There was the way he shifted under Michael, the way his fingers dug into Michael’s neck and held him in place.

The love washed over him again. His Grace warmed, buzzing and tingling and it felt almost like he was physically flying. It pressed close, Draco’s soul warm and unmoving, just wanting, and Michael leaned into it.

There was a faint noise in the background, something human and something not.

The love magnified, responding to Michael’s own, though it was twined in with something like startled pleasure. It was different, it was new, and Michael pressed into it.

A surprised hum broke through, and Michael was just cognizant that he was only barely supporting his weight, that he was mouthing over Draco’s neck. He pulled back, attempting to breathe, attempting to refocus on something that wasn’t Draco because that clearly wasn’t working at all, when Draco made a displeased sound and pulled him back down.

There was nothing from his soul beyond the pleasure and the adoring love, though he couldn’t reach out the way Michael could. But it was unselfconscious and pressed up close to Michael, the emotions for him and it was like a prayer, someone shouting at him. It sank into his Grace, warming him, and he reached back out, wrapping around it.

The shudder this time was stronger, jostling Michael. No. He had control. He pulled away again, tightening his fingers in the fabric of the couch, the armrest creaking in warning. “Draco.” He barely recognized his voice, strained as it was. He curled away from that warmth, shivering as it brushed over him again.

Draco’s head was tilted back, his eyes closed. There was a flush to his cheeks, his breathing ragged. It took him moments too long to open his eyes, looking up at Michael. He seemed a little dazed. “M’fine,” he mumbled. “…you stop?”

Michael didn’t want to say it was too much. That if he didn’t stop now he wasn’t likely to stop anytime soon and for an archangel “soon” was a relative concept. There was abnormal and then there was…that. What Michael was dangerously tipping closer to.

“It’s getting late,” he said eventually, slowing his breathing. It was likely true. He didn’t know how long they had spent here.

Draco made a displeased sound, this one closer to a groan. He did let go of Michael’s neck, rubbing over his face and tipping his head back.

It revealed a mark on his neck that looked like it was going to bruise rather spectacularly by morning.

Similar marks on Loki’s body came to mind. …Humans liked that, didn’t they?

Michael said nothing, just thumbing over it for a moment before deciding to let it be. Draco shivered at the touch, flushing.

“Do you want to stop or not?” Draco sounded and felt flustered.

Michael kissed his cheek, then pulled away entirely, sitting on the opposite end of the couch. Draco’s hand hovered over his cheek, the skin still flushed, and he stared at Michael.

“Is something wrong?” Michael asked when Draco didn’t say anything.

Draco started, then shook his head. He straightened, reaching out to grab Michael’s hand and squeeze it. “No.” His eyes were soft, his smile equally so, and his soul sang with love that had Michael dazed.

He squeezed Draco’s hand, focusing on the feeling of his hand. It was late. They were done. He was not going to start anything else.

Only Draco pulled him into another kiss outside the Slytherin Common Room, radiating so much love and adoration and happiness that Michael couldn’t even steel himself against it. And by the time Michael managed to come back to himself, he’d somehow pushed Draco up against a wall and was largely supporting him from sinking to the floor.

“Don’t apologize,” Draco managed, grabbing hold of his shoulders. “That – that was good.”

Michael swallowed, holding him close until Draco had stopped shaking and was able to support his weight. He had to breathe through the burning warmth in his Grace, the way Draco’s love even now had him almost half-distracted.

Why was it like this? So different from everything else?

Thankfully Draco made it into his Common Room with no further issues and Michael went to hide somewhere to regain what remained of his composure.

By morning, he felt more assured, even if still… Well, he doubted the embarrassment was going to anywhere anytime soon. His solace was that at least there was no one else here who could see exactly how terribly he had been conducting himself.

When Draco joined them at breakfast, the first thing Michael noticed was the bruise at his neck. It had indeed darkened to something very striking against his pale skin. He was a little more surprised that Draco hadn’t done anything to cover it up, but he did seem a little drowsier than usual and also a little more… He seemed more relaxed, giving Michael a warm smile and squeezing his hand in greeting.

There was a small sputtering sound from Justin where he choked on his pumpkin juice. He then proceeded to stuff toast into his mouth, not looking at Draco.

“Had a good night?” Susan asked, voice very carefully neutral. She was radiating amusement.

Draco hummed in response. He didn’t otherwise say anything, seeming more intent on his breakfast.

“I see.” Susan’s lips were twitching.

Hannah kicked Susan’s leg under the table, giving her a sharp look that said she should be polite. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re happy!”

Draco did look up now, giving her a suspicious look.

“Very happy,” Susan agreed, then promptly winced at Hannah’s second kick.

“Yes,” Draco said slowly, shooting them both suspicious looks.

“I do love the fashion statement,” Ernie said casually.

Draco paused, his fork stilling in the middle of the beans. “Fashion statement?” he asked slowly.

“Yes. It really does send a statement.” Ernie gestured vaguely in the direction of his own neck.

Draco frowned. “What fashion statement are you speaking of, Macmillan?”

“You know…” Ernie tapped his neck meaningfully, raising his eyebrows.

Draco’s hand went up to mirror Ernie. When he touched the bruise, he froze, a dawning sense of horrified realization coming from him. A little of it flashed over his face before he composed his expression to something carefully neutral. “Excuse me.” He stood, leaning over towards Michael. “A word?”

Justin was still chewing through his toast, not looking at either of them. Ernie seemed not at all apologetic despite the glare Hannah was shooting him.

Michael had the sense that he’d messed something up, though he wasn’t entirely sure how or why. Ernie mouthed a silent “good luck” as they left, which didn’t reassure him at all.

He didn’t get the chance to ask since as soon as they were out of sight and earshot of anyone by the Great Hall, Draco turned towards him, radiating flustered and horrified embarrassment.

“You couldn’t have told me?” Draco hissed.

Michael blinked, looking down at the bruise on his neck and then back up to him. “I thought you knew.”

“How would I know?” Draco groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “No wonder Blaise kept smirking at me this morning. Nott wouldn’t even look me in the eyes.”

Michael hesitated, then slowly reached out to touch his shoulder. “I thought…humans like that sort of thing?”

Draco made a strangled noise into his hands. He didn’t say anything.

“…I can avoid doing so in the future.” If he did accidentally do it in the future, he would make sure to heal it. Of course he’d mess this up.

There was an immediate head shake, which confused Michael even more. “…Do you want me to do it again?”

Draco shrunk his shoulders in, the sense of embarrassment strengthening. He hadn’t removed his hands from his face.

“Draco…” Michael stepped in closer, unsure of what exactly he wanted here, but it didn’t seem like just leaving him alone was the right thing to do.

There was another long moment of silence. Then, muffled, so quiet Michael wouldn’t even have heard if he were actually human, Draco mumbled, “I liked it.”

“Oh.” Michael was relieved. “Okay. Is it… Would you prefer I let you know in the future?”

Draco nodded into his hands. His ears were red, as was the back of his neck.

“I can also heal it if you’d like,” Michael offered quietly. “Now and in the future.”

There was a moment’s hesitation before Draco shook his head.

“You’re embarrassed,” Michael said slowly, unsure of what exactly was wrong. Beyond how he had messed up and Draco had been embarrassed.

“I walked out in the middle of everyone with no idea what they were seeing. Of course I’m embarrassed!”

“So it’s…fine if you know?”

Draco dropped his hands, leaning in to hide his face in Michael’s shoulder. “It’s better.” His voice was muffled.

Humans… So illogical. Michael ran a hand over Draco’s back, pressing a slow kiss to his hair. This was something he felt more comfortable with. He was relieved Draco didn’t seem angry, just embarrassed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Draco sighed into Michael’s shoulder, remaining there for a long moment before he picked his head up and kissed him. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. “But next time tell me.”

Nothing wrong this time, Michael thought ruefully. But at least this had worked out. He would be better.

-

“Better” was relative. “Better” did not happen.

Michael losing his control kept happening and he didn’t understand why. He didn’t understand just why he was so fully incapable of restraining himself around Draco. He didn’t understand why despite his usually impeccable self-control, it just went flying out the window the moment he started picking up what Draco felt for him.

It wasn’t as if it was all the time. Sometimes, when it was just brief, Michael didn’t have an issue. But the longer it lasted, that affection, the higher the likelihood of him becoming distracted. So he did have one possible solution, only it left Draco feeling hurt if Michael stopped short and pulled away early.

The goal wasn’t to hurt Draco.

It just…led to a terrible loop with no solution in sight because Michael was incapable of controlling himself.

At least he didn’t hurt Draco. Fixing furniture was easier than if he had hurt Draco.

The other things were easier. Making sure to take care of Draco, remembering what he had seen other couples do… That was so much easier. Those were little things that made a difference.

Little things that Draco deserved because that was as normal as Michael could make it for him.

They had all been stressed over NEWTs, no matter how Draco tried to hide it or make it as discreet as possible for Michael. They hadn’t spent that much time together either beyond the usual studying and the occasional visit to Hogsmeade, and Draco had asked him if he wouldn’t mind spending some time together that night.

There was another out-of-the-way study that Michael hadn’t brought Draco to yet. It was missed primarily due to the fact that it was hidden behind a tapestry and also had a suit of armor standing before the door.

Draco was a little amused as Michael slid the armor to the side and then back in front of the tapestry. This was probably more due to the armor cursing out Michael than because of the sight of Michael physically shifting the armor back and forth with a hand.

Aside from the amusement, there was something else from Draco, though it was vague enough that Michael couldn’t entirely pick up what it was.

Once the door was closed, Michael turned, only to be pushed up against the door and kissed. He startled, freezing slightly at the abrupt onslaught.

Draco did pull back, brow furrowed. “Is that…too fast?”

Michael forced himself to relax, fitting his vessel against the curve of the door and not the other way round. “Just unexpected.”

Draco studied him a moment longer, then leaned in again, a little slower this time.

This was different. It was more intent, more focused than what Draco usually did. It made it easier for Michael to kiss back, to focus on the physicality of the action and not on other things.

The love was there but it wasn’t everything he was picking up. It was largely covered by the focus.

He didn’t push Draco along, following his lead.

Then Draco shifted to kissing his cheek and down his jaw. That was new.

Michael didn’t move beyond brushing his hand over his back and tilting his head back as Draco sucked at the skin. It felt different, almost interestingly so, and he could see why humans did like it.

Eventually Draco stopped, breathing against Michael’s neck. “This isn’t doing anything for you.” He sounded a little breathless and a little confused.

Michael raised his eyebrows, brushing his hand up to Draco’s neck to squeeze it. “…No. I told you before it doesn’t.”

“I thought…” Draco pulled back, frowning. “It seemed to. The more we…did it.” He was a little red. “So I…I thought I’d try something different so you don’t get all caught up in your head.”

Michael squeezed his neck again, glad Draco couldn’t see the embarrassment burning through him. He hadn’t thought Draco had noticed. “It’s not the kissing,” he said quietly. “I told you…it’s you.”

Draco kissed him again, evaluating. Michael smiled slightly into it for a moment before returning the kiss.

“So it’s…me,” Draco said a little bit later, breathless. “You said…feeling me?”

“…Yes.” Michael slowly leaned in to kiss his cheek, unsure of where Draco was going with this.

“Are you not feeling me right now?” Draco asked.

Draco was very hard to ignore, especially like this. “I am.”

Draco still seemed confused. “Then…is it different? You’re not – it’s not the same as before.”

Draco was more focused than he had been before. It lent a cover to his other emotions, the ones Michael usually had more trouble ignoring. Michael wasn’t sure if he wanted to explain that. “I’m still feeling you,” he told Draco. “I always can.” He leaned in to kiss him, though Draco broke it quicker than the last one.

“You’re not distracting me this time,” Draco said, cross. “You’re not.”

Michael ran his thumb over Draco’s jaw. “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

Draco flushed a little, throat bobbing as he swallowed. “Yes, but I also want you.”

“You have me.”

Draco went even redder. “I don’t want you holding yourself back. You – I said I want you.”

“I’m here.”

“But not really.” Draco huffed, some frustration seeping in. “I’m not going to break, Michael. Just…this isn’t just about me. This is also for you.”

Michael watched him, breathing past Draco’s frustration and…worry. But the frustration was strongest. He swallowed, dropping his eyes. Why did he always mess things up? “I don’t expect you to break,” he said quietly. “I know you’re stronger than that.”

“If I’m overwhelmed, it’s a good feeling,” Draco said. “You’re not overwhelming, Michael. And when you are, it’s not bad. But I don’t want this to be only for me.”

“It’s not,” Michael said immediately.

“But the kissing doesn’t do anything for you.”

“It does for you.”

“But we can both get something out of it.” Draco kissed his cheek, scattering a few more kisses down his jaw and to his neck. His frustration softened, giving way to worry and love. There was less of the intent focus now, more of the love that nestled against Michael’s Grace. “I want you to want this, too.”

He didn’t want to constantly feel like he had no control. It was – it felt nice. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was everything else.

He swallowed again, breathing shuddering slightly. “I.” He regulated his breathing, focusing only on that, though it also magnified the feel of Draco’s breath against his skin and the slightly different temperature of his exhalations compared to that of his body temperature.

“Hm?” Draco kissed his neck again, a little more deliberately. He seemed to have noticed something changed, something curious sneaking into his emotions, though the love was still there. It was colored by deep affection, soft and adoring.

Michael shivered, barely holding onto his control. He pressed his fingers to Draco’s robes, cataloging the fabric and how it felt (very soft, a high thread count). “Souls…” he managed, voice slightly strained.

Draco paused briefly, though then pressed another kiss to his jaw. He seemed like he wasn’t entirely sure what was doing it for Michael so was testing the waters. The kiss did nothing, but the affectionate love was almost too much.

Michael curled into his vessel but it was impossible to ignore Draco’s soul and the emotions for him. “Souls,” he repeated, forcing himself to focus. “I – I’m always aware. Of them.” He tilted his head back at another kiss, closing his eyes at the warm spark of love and something like excitement bubbling over his Grace. “And…emotions. It’s… Some are harder. To ignore.” Did that make sense? He didn’t think he made sense in his own head.

There was a moment of pensive stillness, though Draco didn’t move away from him. But the emotions Michael was picking up off him had dampened, and he pulled in a long breath. He relaxed slightly, running a hand over Draco’s back and squeezing the back of his neck.

The flood of love hit him like a brick.

Michael was barely aware of the noise he made, startled and surprised, and how he…did he stiffen? Or did his vessel shiver? He didn’t know, all he knew was that he didn’t know what he was doing beyond remaining frozen in place. His breathing had definitely picked up, and he was barely cognizant of Draco kissing up his neck to kiss him properly again.

“Don’t…” He barely recognized his voice, breathless and breaking at the end. He didn’t know what he had been about to say, distracted by the warm love still flooding over him.

“I want to,” Draco murmured between kisses. “This is working, isn’t it?” There was slight amusement here, but it wasn’t meant unkindly. It couldn’t be, not with the rest of what he was focusing on feeling. Humans couldn’t quite do that, and there was – there was no lie.

Michael might have made a noise of agreement, or maybe just a random noise. His focus shifted between the kisses and between struggling not to just reach back out to Draco’s soul and completely lose touch with the physical world.

He had to – he could multitask—

Only there wasn’t much multitasking involved in following Draco’s nudging when he kissed up over Michael’s neck to behind his ear. The only multitasking was registering the physical sensation of the kisses and how his vessel responded to it, skin prickling and nerves sparking.

The love came in waves, ebbing and flowing, likely due to Draco’s own focus sometimes breaking. But it wasn’t anywhere near as predictable as the actual ocean, and just as Michael thought he could manage it, another surge of warmth hit him and he leaned into it.

He reached out. He thought there was a hand involved. Maybe a kiss as well, Draco making a noise that was soon muffled, but all he really registered was the warmth of that soul and the love it continually radiated that was for him, even if it wasn’t pushed at him. But it was for him and he couldn’t ignore that – didn’t want to ignore it.

And he reached out, pushing into that warmth but keeping it gentle. He pushed along his own love, the warmth he was feeling, just letting it rest against that soul in acknowledgment.

There was another noise, this one louder and breaking through Michael’s attention. The love he was feeling faltered slightly, turning slightly overwhelmed.

He pulled back, guilty, and now he could feel Draco holding his head, pressing him up against the wall (door?), gasping into his mouth and definitely very overwhelmed.

Michael pulled physically back but had to stop because there was nowhere to go, not with how Draco had him pushed up against the wall. And when he did break the kiss, Draco was there again, kissing him again, more intently but still breathless.

He wanted to ask, if he was okay, if this was fine, but he had no air for the questions and certainly no way to speak when he was being kissed. He was only barely aware of the shivering of his vessel, fine trembles he couldn’t quite manage to get under control, and then Draco pulled back just enough to tug on his lip and his Occlumency shields were gone and Michael was hit by both his soul and a mind he had gotten used to no longer feeling and shuddered. The next noise was his own.

A good overwhelming feeling. This – he – you feel good – not bad.

That was only Draco. 

The feeling of being overwhelmed faded, only for the love to sweep back in, and Michael sank under it, buzzing with warmth and the feeling of Draco’s soul next to his own Grace. 

At some point, slowly, the love ebbed, not disappearing but no longer quite as overwhelming for him. It just hovered there, warm and soft and also feeling…pleased.

He stayed pressed there for a bit, not doing anything beyond keeping it company like he would have a sibling, sharing his own contentment.

But then there was a shift, and he realized that no, this was… This wasn’t—

When he next registered his own vessel, they were on the floor, though sitting. Somehow he’d slumped down still leaning back against the…door. It was definitely a door. Only he wasn’t leaning so much against the door but against Draco, who had slid himself a little more to the side to be able to hold him and also lean back against the wall.

Damn it.

Michael tucked himself into his vessel, focusing on his breathing. Only his vessel felt a little different than usual, his limbs shaky. It wasn’t quite like how he had felt after what had happened with Gabriel, but the trembling wouldn’t quite stop.

Of course, his own Grace was still buzzing with warmth and that wasn’t going to go away anytime soon either.

“Not so bad, was it?” Draco sounded a little breathless, a little tired, but definitely pleased with himself. He ran a hand over Michael’s shoulder.

Michael shifted, dislodging Draco’s arms and straightening, rubbing hands over his face. “Are you…okay?”

Draco squeezed Michael’s shoulder, leaning in. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Good.” Michael exhaled in relief, scrubbing over his eyes, focusing on that feeling and not on the buzzing warmth of his Grace or Draco next to him.

“We didn’t even break anything this time,” Draco said, pleased.

Michael groaned into his hands, embarrassment surging through him. Like a newly Created angel. He had no fucking control.

Draco reached out to him, taking one of his hands and gently pulling it down, squeezing it. “Was that really so bad?”

Michael rubbed over his eyes, pressing his thumb to the skin between his eyebrows, focusing on the pressure. “…No,” he eventually admitted. It had been the opposite of bad, except for how he’d lost all sense of everything except for Draco.

“It’s not just for me,” Draco said, and a kiss was pressed to Michael’s temple. “This…what we have…I told you I’m not going to be an obligation.”

Michael shook his head. “You’re not.”

“Then stop focusing so much on what you think I want, because all I want is you. Michael, not Wayne.”

Michael dropped his hand, staring up at the stone ceiling. It offered no answers. He didn’t understand why Draco had wanted this – him. He never had.

Something like sadness seeped into him from Draco. Michael’s eyes snapped to him. “Draco…”

“If you say you’re fine, I’m going to sit on you,” Draco said mildly, “and we’re not going to go anywhere until you accept this.”

Michael huffed, amused despite himself. He smiled. “That’s quite a threat.”

“Oh, it is, since if you decide to leave, I’m going to be upset.”

“I’m not going to leave.”

“Good.” Draco let go of his hand, reaching up to touch his cheek and turn it more towards him so he could kiss him gently. The love was softer than before, a gentle warmth against Michael, and his breathing shuddered.

Draco kissed him again, then pulled back. “You probably can already feel it, but I think you probably need to hear it, too. I love you.”

Michael didn’t look away from him, the embarrassment largely subsiding for something warmer and softer. He didn’t understand why, didn’t want to ask Draco why either, but…he did know that now. He could feel it and couldn’t ignore it.

He ran the fingers of his free hand over Draco’s fringe, brushing it over his forehead. He breathed in, then out, then smiled at him. This time, when he gently and carefully pushed that love into Draco, it was entirely controlled. “I love you, too.”

[polyshipper-anon]

for the character ask... Dr. Keh?

the ask game

First impression: "Oh this guy is an asshole. I am NOT gonna like him. I will be his #1 hater"

Current impression: ...i like him LOL i spun him around in my head and added a bunch of headcanons and now i think that he's just A Silly Guy who is also an asshole (he really called his new shop Kehlifornia,,, like wow,,, thats so funny LMFAO and he still acts like he's better than the ovenist)

Favorite moment: I really liked how he kinda dropped the asshole persona when he tasted the ovenist's pizza (without using his formula) after they win pizzacon and he has like, an epiphany i guess? i don't remember it quite well but he's like 'i need to go rethink making pizzas and its flavors'

Idea for a story: hmm tbh aside from how im gonna use him in my gpgp au i dont think ive got much of a story idea for him

Unpopular opinion: so like. everyone obviously knows he's mean and a jerk to everyone, like even if you ship him with anyone he's still characterized as mean and competitive now i dont know if this counts as an unpopular opinion BUT... before chapter 5, i thought that if he came back then he'd be nicer to the ovenist (at least if you didnt use the formula in chapter 3), and because of that when he falls in love with my ovenist, Dr. Keh becomes nice to him and only him LOLOL

Favorite relationship: Dr. Keh x ovenist bc enemies to lovers <33 but also i think imagining him and Angelica having an intense sibling rivalry type of relationship is so so funny (im saying this as an older sibling myself, like yeah i'd send fancy letters just to cuss my brother out, just for the laughs)

Favorite headcanon: he has a few select people that he's openly and unabashedly nice to but a VERY high criteria for it (wouldnt it be really funny if Alicante somehow passed this criteria and they were both just friends. like wouldnt that be hilarious)

as a bonus, have this character opinion bingo:

[tealmaskmybeloved]

Toxic Consequences AU: Chapter 6

The Heroes of Kitakami

(Notes will be under the cut. Enjoy!)

This was a new experience for Kieran.

He had believed the Loyal 3 were heroes for most of his life, at least until recently. But even with his new knowledge on their evil deeds.... he still couldn't hate them.

Right now, Kieran was being carried by Okidogi as they left the house, careful to avoid being spotted.

"So uh, where are we going exactly?" Kieran asked, confused.

"We're going to finish what we started all those years ago! Getting the masks!" Munkidori replied, almost excited to pull it off.

"Wait hold on here. We can't really, well, do that." Kieran blurted out. The Loyal 3 and their master turned to look at Kieran, disappointment and confusion on their faces.

Kieran had to think fast. "I-I mean, won't we get caught? The town is really protective of the masks... and there's no way they'd let us near them."

Please let this work. Kieran thought, his heart racing.

Eventually, their leader spoke up.

...Fine. We can delay the heist for later. Until then-

"OH MY GOSH, IS THAT THE LOYAL 3?!"

The group jumped in surprise. They turned to see some of the townsfolk running up to them.

"Um, uh, what do we do?" Kieran whispered.

"Quick, Okidogi, knock them out." Munkidori said.

"Do we seriously have to?" The dog replied, looking unsure.

The town's caretaker walked up to the group, his hands behind his back.

"Welcome, you all! It is an honor to be blessed with your presence! We of Kitakami thank you for fending off the Ogre all those years ago!"

The Loyal 3 gave each other looks. Fezandipiti almost snickered. Was he serious?

The man continued. "We owe great thanks to you heroes of Kitakami! We've been worshipping you since your passing, and we are more than happy to see you alive and well! Perhaps fate has shined upon us? Either way, we shall make sure your visit here is as pelasureable as it can be!"

It took all of the Loyal 3's willpower and their leader's control to not burst out laughing and lay waste to the town. The people thought that they were heroes of all things?! Did they not know of their heist?! Or the man they killed?! Or the countless other towns they've raided and attacked?!

Without hesitation, the caretaker pulled out the masks from behind his back and gave them to the crew.

"Here, take this. As a sign of our loyalty and thanks for your bravery." The caretaker said with a smile on his face.

The Loyal 3 gave each other smug looks and eagerly accepted the masks.

"Well that was easy!" Munkidori grinned.

"They know that we ain't heroes, right?" Fezandipiti asked, a look of mischief on the bird's face.

"Don't say it! They'll hear you!" Okidogi growled.

It doesn't matter. They can't understand us anyway.

But the people were not done. "As a little bonus, here's a treat for you all. Freshly made from our best bakers, here's some mochi!"

One of the townsfolk handed them a plate full of pale mochi.

"Well don't mind if we do!" Okidogi snatched the plate and offered the mochi to the others before taking a bite of one himself.

The Loyal 3's leader stared at the mochi with a look of disdain and hatred.

You realize we're the bad guys here, right?

"Oh come on now, boss. A little appreciation and a break never killed anyone!" Fezandipiti said. Clearly the Loyal 3 were enjoying this.

Kieran was as well. He was finally getting used to hanging out with the Loyal 3 and their leader. He let himself relax a little. Maybe things won't be so bad!

Ahem. I know you all are enjoying this, but we need to get going, now. Their leader spoke again, clearly annoyed.

The Loyal 3 grumbled in response.

"Come on, don't be a buzzkill! Let us have some fun!" Okidogi said gleefully.

"Yeah, there's no harm in this!" Fezandipiti agreed.

I said.. we need to get going, NOW!

The voice from their leader was more aggravated than unusual, startling Kieran. He could feel its presence in his mind again, but this time stronger.

Kieran wasn't the only one. The Loyal 3 had an unnatural pink glow to their eyes, almost like they were being controlled...

There, that's better. Now, let's leave before things get worse. Come along, Kieran.

Reluctantly, Kieran went after the group, now unsure whether or not if this was a good idea.

The group left Mossui Town, masks in hand...

Ogerpon's POV

Ogerpon was peacefully resting with her new friends when she sensed something troubling.

She knew.

He was back. Him and his Retainers.

They can't take my friend away this time. I won't let them. I'll make them pay for what happened all those years ago....

WOOOOOOT ITS OUT YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA

Dokutaro is an evil lil jerk and doesn't let the Loyal 3 have fun.

Also I loved writing the part where they're snickering about being seen as heroes. They were just like LMAO BOZOS YOU THOUGHT-

My first draft was for them to be like ABOUT THAT and just destroy the town, but I'll save that for later.

Anyways, lemme know what you think about it! Reblog, send an ask, anything works!

[satoshi-mochida]

Kimi ga Nozomu Eien: Enhanced Edition launches October 17 - Gematsu

Romance visual Kimi ga Nozomu Eien: Enhanced Edition will launch for PC via Steam on October 17 with English and Japanese language support, aNCHOR announced.

Kimi ga Nozomu Eien first launched for PC on August 3, 2001. Kimi ga Nozomu Eien: Latest Edition, on which Kimi ga Nozomu Eien: Enhanced Edition is based, launched on March 28, 2008. Kimi ga Nozomu Eien: Enhanced Edition will be the game’s first official English release.

Here is an overview of the game, via its Steam page:

About

Experience the visual novel that shook a generation. Kimi ga Nozomu Eien (The Eternity You Desire) comes to Steam in an enhanced edition, offering a poignant journey through love, loss, and the complexities of human relationships.

A Classic Reborn

First released in 2001, Kimi ga Nozomu Eien quickly became a cornerstone of the visual novel genre, influencing countless stories that followed. Now, everyone can experience this incredible story in English for the first time.

Key Features

Massive Narrative – Immerse yourself in a mature, dramatic storyline that explores the depths of human emotion and the consequences of life-altering decisions.

Unforgettable, Realistic Characters – Connect with a cast of deep, well-developed characters whose growth and relationships evolve throughout the story.

Expanded Content – This definitive edition includes the original game plus three afterstories and a full-length retelling of Chapter 1 with new endings for each heroine. It also includes the the bonus episode Kanashimi wa Kaze no You ni (Sorrow, Like the Wind) from the first edition printing of Kimi ga Nozomu Eien: Latest Edition!

Hours and Hours of Gameplay – Dive into a rich, branching narrative that offers tremendous replay value and multiple endings to discover.

Story

“Time is both the kindest and the cruelest thing… It heals the wounds in my heart, but steals away my love for you.” Choosing one person always means hurting someone else… A realistic love story about a boy who’s growing up. Narumi Takayuki is a young man in his last year at Hakuryo Hiiragi academy. There’s not much time left before he graduates, but he still has no idea what he’s going to do with the rest of his life. He spends his days not doing much of anything in particular, and feeling a vague sense that he’s running out of time. One day, his classmate and female friend Hayase Mitsuki invites him and his buddy, Taira Shinji, to a summer festival. There, she introduces him to a friend of hers, Suzumiya Haruka. Haruka is an extremely shy, introverted girl, and since Mitsuki’s trying hard to make her feel like part of the gang, Takayuki does his best to make her feel comfortable as well. But for some reason, instead of thanking him, she goes out of her way to avoid him. He leaves the festival frustrated and annoyed. Days later, though, Haruka calls him out to the hill behind the school and tells him that she’s in love with him. Knowing how much courage it must have taken a shy girl like her to ask him out, he says finds himself unable to say no. The two begin dating, even though he’s not really interested in her. Just like he predicted, his conversations with her are strained and awkward. But as time passes, the two of them grow closer, and Takayuki finds himself falling in love with her sweet, innocent nature. And then one day…

Additional Information

This work is an all-ages version of the original game based on Kimi ga Nozomu Eien: Latest Edition. As the player, you will take on the role of the protagonist (Takayuki Narumi) and deepen your relationships with the heroines. There are no right or wrong answers to the choices you face, and you’re free to follow the story however you desire. The voice recordings used are from Kimi ga Nozomu Eien Latest Edition and existing consumer versions. We have also updated the menu screens for a more modern experience. This version of the game can be enjoyed by anyone, regardless of whether they’ve played the game before.

[evilautismcrusades]

after seeing some of the votes and responses to my "what is mike going to be" poll, i thought maybe i should give my own response to the matter and reasoning for why i so strongly believe hes going to be the microwave, plus my own opinion on woody theory!

basically for those who dont know what woody theory is, its a theory that the deltarune chapter 3 bonus boss is going to be a toy woody-like darkner with a "friend inside them," aka a speaker who would manifest in the dark world as a separate entity of some kind controlling the toy host. this is apparently based on posts and even a fan song toby has made for toy story, and also something about "the cowboy show being cancelled" in the most recent undertale newsletter, which people took to be a reference to a similar scene in one of the toy story movies. (do please correct me if im wrong on any of this information, i havent seen any of the toy story movies in a looooong time.)

and, honestly? i could see him pulling something like that! its a cool and unique idea for a character, especially fitting for a bonus boss darkner. if he really does do this, i would be pleasantly surprised.

however, i dont think the woody boss or the friend inside them would be mike. in fact, i dont even think mike is going to be a microphone. if you think about it, there arent any microphones or anything that could contain them (without being bugged or something) inside the dreemurr house, and if there were to be a woody character they wouldnt contain a microphone unless they were one of those toys that repeat what you say to them. they would just contain a speaker.

something else i see in support of the thing inside the woody character being mike is the canon knowledge that spamton and jevil have of each others existence, and people wondering if this could point to a trend with all the secret bosses knowing or having met each other. given that spamton mentions mike quite a few times, and other chapter trends being implied at (such as rouxls having a cameo in every chapter), this is another thing i could see happening, but i still dont think itll be with mike.

if anything, i think it will be with tenna, the character mentioned on one of the spamton sweepstakes hidden pages. my reasons for this are how much disdain spamton seems to have for both tenna and jevil, which could definitely be another chapter trend. whereas spamton seems to care about and even miss mike, acting protective when he was asked about him in the spamton q&a, he is awfully hateful towards tenna. as quoted from this hidden sweepstakes page (notably the first and only place he mentions tenna by name, in the url):

"THAT DAMN [Boob tube]!!!

YOU'RE THE ONE THAT SHOULD BE HAVING A [Refr3shing n1ghts sleep] IN THE [Recycling Bin]!!!

EVERYTHING IS HIS

EVERYTHING IS HIS FAULT.

...PAY....

EVERYONE IS GOING TO

EVERYONE IS GOING TO PAY [5 easy payments of $9.99] UNTIL THEY'RE ALL IN THE [Disposal Area] BEGGING FOR MY [$#&*]!!!

EVERYONE... EVERYONE EXCEPT..."

here it really comes off that the "boob tube" he is talking about, and presumably also a darkner representing the tv or part of it, is tenna. another really interesting thing is whoever hes talking about at the end. given that he has shown a fondness for mike before, i believe he is the one spamton is sparing from his short person wrath, and tenna has wronged him and mike in some way. this clashes alot with the tv mike theory/depictions and is the biggest reason i dont believe he is the tv.

so, what does that leave in the house for mike to be?

well, he can still really be anything, but if we were to follow his name being a play on his corresponding light world object, this leaves the most likely candidate as being the microwave in the kitchen, and with that i rest my case.

if anyone has any other theories or details on this subject that i didnt touch on, please let me know!! id love to hear them

[cxttlefishcxller]

𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤

So I was lovingly tagged by @residentdormouse who is great and awesome and indulgent of my bullshit. So away the shit does bull, I suppose jfkdl;safd The rules are simple - find a sentence, or excerpt, that includes the words you're given and paste it in, and include a link to the finished story of you want. But honestly, guidelines at best - do what you want.

My words to find: White, Cold, Snow, Frost, Ice, Gloves, Hat, Cocoa (or Tea), Blanket, Snuggle/cuddle (or any variation of this) No pressure tags: @caktusjuice-draws, @jaiesondurantkross, @beyondthetemples-ooc, and a massive Open Tag to anyone who wants to! I love seeing things y'all write <3 Your words are (really I'm just going off of moodboard vibes with a couple wild cards thrown in): Paper, Sunset, Natural, Leather, Bookmark, Steel, Chill, Ember, Storm, Makeshift.

Bullshit below the cut!

Okay, so some of these will be from published works, but several will likely be from the as-of-yet chaotically-unwritten remake of Second Lead Serenade. So it's a lot of Stand Shenanigans (tm) but I'll try to drop some other shit in, too. Just to keep things interesting. XD

White: (godfuckingdammit I was making fun of you for having so many Flagg references and the first one I got is a fucking Flagg reference. This one's from a bonus chapter from Serenade that hasn't made its way into the narrative just yet.)

“I went down to Saint James Infirm’ry…saw my baby there,” The voice croons under its breath. The predators may be gone, but the fear remains, and Piper finds that she doesn’t dare raise her head to see who belongs to the boots that draw slowly near. Didn’t Mother Abigail say something about wolves? Dark eyes in the night that were too eager to snap up good souls lost on their way? She had thought about how wolves were sacred to Odin, that not all were hungry and savage beasts, but that truth seems farther away now. “She was stretched out on a long white table…” The voice goes on. “So cold, so sweet, so sweet, so fair.” The footsteps stop. The boots are only a foot or so away now, and the figure pauses before dropping to a squat. A warm glow lights the area around them as a hand comes into her field of vision, extended in invitation. “Hey there, Dani. Need a hand?” Dani. No one’s been alive to call her that in weeks…maybe even months. All of the family and friends that had known her by that name are long dead. Her hair spills into her face as she dares to look up at last. Attached to that hand is a lean man with coiffed, sandy hair and a smile as sharp as glass. His eyes are pale, creased by the kindness of his expression, but she can’t shake the feeling that maybe the wolf had been in front of her all along. Dazedly, she puts her hand in his, allowing him to help her slowly to her feet. His skin burns against hers, and she stumbles when he claps a free hand on her shoulder. 

Cold: (I wasn't gonna have Serenade be two for two, but honestly I couldn't resist the urge to shoehorn TedPipes into something. Teddy continues to be the Best Boi Ever, and poor Piper's just trying to drag herself out of her survivor's guilt jfkldsafd)

His worry comes off of him in waves. The last bits of her loathing have returned to their home in the hollow of her ribs, turning her stomach as it settles back into shame instead of rage. “I’m okay.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, energy all but spent. “I’m fine. It’s just…” She can’t find an explanation worth using. Trying to put this emotion to words feels like Sisyphus and his stone. Too much and not enough all at once. “...It’s just me.”  He studies her for a long moment, brow furrowing before he shifts to take his legs out from underneath him, sitting beside her on the ground instead. “...Wanna talk about it?” He asks. His radio hisses, someone’s voice reporting that a section is clear. He shifts, turning the device off with a telltale click.  “I…I don’t know.” She shakes her head, brushing a loose lock of hair out of her eyes. Her palm is scraped raw from her outburst, skin broken in a few places and stinging as dots of blood meet the cold air. “I don’t know where I’d even start.” “Take your time.” He moves again, settling in at her side and leaning back against the tree. “Whatever you need. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

Frost: (Ohhhh I had to DIG to find this one. I don't use this word enough, I guess. This is an ooooold WIP of an original D&D-adjacent fantasy piece I was writing about a witch and a rogue finding some royal baby in a rosebush and having to figure out who and where to take it home to. Shenanigans Ensue.)

With such a blue cast to their coal-colored skin, Dark-Elves flush a shade of purple. This purple tinges his cheeks as he coughs, sitting up again as he splutters, “That...that isn’t any of your concern. The important thing is that I was at her estate and she had a need for my services. And we’ll get a tidy sum of gold out of her, so what’s the harm?” “None at all...if you’re successful. If you’re not, you don’t live here. I’ll deny everything if her guard comes by to make you pay for ruining her land.” She decides with a hum, draining the last of her tea.  “How heartless, Ketta. After all I’ve done for you.” Despite his words, he laughs, reaching to fill her cup again. “After all I’ve done for you, you mean. I got along just fine before you got here. And when you leave again, I’ll be all the more peaceful for it.” The banter is easy, playful, though her words ring true. Irren is a wanderer, and Ketsiyah a loner. Their arrangement is comfortable, she knows, because it’s temporary. He came into Thornfall just as the last frost was thawing, with half a year spent in the attic space above her home. The arrangement was that he would be gone by the time the first freeze came through.  

Ice: (BirdBrains gets some representation! This is from Shine On You Crazy Diamond, the IT/The Stand crossover I've slowly been writing. Which.......I really ought to get back to. <.<;;;;)

“We all tried to find out what really happened--his friends and I, I mean. A bunch of kids looking for a fucking serial killer.” He chuckles wryly, only able to look at his and Crow’s joined hands. Their touch is the only thing anchoring him, he thinks. If he lets go, he might sink down into the pit again. Down in the dark, where It lived. “And I think we did find It eventually. But I can’t remember. I just remember how scared I was. And how badly we were hurt after. And I remember that we all made a promise that if we didn’t kill It like we thought…we’d have to come back. To finish the job.” Silence falls between them as he finishes, and now, with all of the confusing, tangled pieces he has out in the open, Harold feels that ice-cold surety that he has finally, finally managed to find the one thing to say that would be Too Much. The final straw on the back of a camel that’s been struggling for the four years of their relationship. The one thing that even Crow’s infinite adaptability and determination couldn’t overcome. He can’t look at them, picking at his lower lip with his teeth.  “...It.” They say at last, putting the same weight on the word that he had. Not just a pronoun--it’s almost a title. A name for something so evil and so terrible that his mind goes utterly blank every time he tries to remember. “So this…murderer. This serial killer. You talk about It like It’s not a person at all.”

Gloves: (I was wondering when Between Iron and Silver would come into this one, but apparently I don't use this word enough either jfdkls;afd To summarize, this is an Undertale fic that's the answer to "what if a human fell into the Ruins and stayed?" and then it just...ran away from me. It's also my first foray into second-person writing, which is way more fun than I thought it'd be.)

At the edge of consciousness, you feel more than hear something snap, that ozone scent filling your senses before the weight vanishes, leaving you coughing and rolling to your side to curl around your stomach. As oxygen helps your mind to clear, you turn a little to see your assailant hovering a few feet above you, flailing and growling as they are held in place by some glowing blue force. They turn to roar at your companions, demanding to be released. As you struggle to catch your breath, you turn a little more to see that Sans has an arm raised in their direction, hand and left eye swirling with that same blue glow. Papyrus has one glove pressed against his mouth, eyes wide, looking between the guard and his brother. “Undyne.” Sans speaks through gritted teeth, and you note that his non-glowing eye has gone pitch black. “Calm down. We’re not here about that--this is more important than Asgore’s manhunt. We’re here for help.” “What the hell could be more important than this?!” Undyne--as you know her to be--growls, struggling anew against the force that holds her still. “This is our freedom, the only ticket we have to survive; don’t you want to get out of here?!” “It’s about what happened to Alva.” His tone sharpens despite never raising his voice. “This human has seen it. We came here to get your help.” At the mention of “Alva”, Undyne freezes, fixing him with a hard stare that he unabashedly returns. After a moment that feels like a lifetime, she goes limp. “...Fine.” The conclusion sounds like a struggle. “Whatever. Just...put me down, Sans.”

Hat: (Ahhh the Fuckening. Serenade yet again, but a WIP chapter this time! I still haven't gotten around to the Fuckening itself, but I sure wanted to write down what happened after. If I ever write a fic chronologically, it'll be a cold day in hell.)

Teddy hasn’t moved since his first few hours in the clinic, laid in a bed in the main room under the rough hospital blankets and the unfinished crochet throw Piper had brought in for the chill of the night. The Free Zone’s newly-acquired electricity has been put to good use -- the steady rhythm of his heart monitor embedding itself into her thoughts as she tries to keep busy. Crow had been kind enough to bring some of their collective yarn stash and Piper’s bag of hooks, giving her a chance to try to work on the hats and scarves they were putting together for the town. Doing as much as she can to occupy her mind. Two days, she thinks. The longest two days of her fucking life. Those old habits she’d built when Tripps was at its height have come back in full-force now -- numbly doing the bare minimum requirements of survival, following a set track and routine with no deviation. Filing her mind with tasks and media to avoid any thoughts toward the future or the dark what-ifs outside of her blinders. Much like it had with Tripps, this method works…for the most part. When it doesn’t, it’s only in flashes -- the image of Teddy holding a bloodied hand to his stomach, the way he had clung to her as he collapsed, the shocked look on Nadine’s face as Piper had torn that gun out of her hands from twenty feet away-- No. No, no, no. Not that. Not now. Not ever. She shakes her head, pulling out a few stitches that her tension has made too tight. That didn’t happen. It can’t have happened. So she sweeps it aside, turns up the radio in her mind. Her next few stitches are much more even.

Cocoa/Tea: (Okay so it's more Serenade, but at least it's a Teddy chapter? Nostalgia and introspection abound during a chat with Mother A, while the plot continues to thicken.)

"It's a shitshow." Crow finishes matter-of-factly. "The whole world ended faster than any of us could blink, and no one's around to tell us how to pick up the pieces. And there are too many pieces around to pick up, anyway." Then, clearing their throat, they add a little more sheepishly, "...Sorry for swearing." The older woman only laughs, shaking her head. "Don't you worry about that--I'm old enough and wise enough to know when polite words simply don't suffice. You're absolutely correct. Now that we're done running around like chickens with our heads cut off, it's hard to tell what way is up." Teddy can’t remember the last time he’d had tea, he thinks, listening to the exchange. At least, not the kind that didn’t come in a big teal can that he could pick up for a dollar at 7-11. For an absurd moment as he picks up his cup for a sip, he’s reminded of afternoons spent with his sisters and their dollar-store tea set made from pink plastic and poorly-painted flowers. It’s an effort to keep from sticking his pinkie finger out, mind replaying their indignant cries of it being “the right way”. The nostalgia makes his chest ache. The drink itself is nothing to write home about, as far as his coffee-saturated palate is concerned. A little weak, a little earthy. Probably needing sugar. He reaches for the carafe.  “But you must have some thoughts about how things ended up the way they did. Mr. Bateman thinks it’s human folly. Ray says it’s divine providence. You know how I feel about the divine, but the Lord’s messages to me are more concerned about ‘how’ than ‘why’. What do you all think about it? Why here? Why us?”

Blanket: (ughhhh this one was tough! It isn't that I haven't used this word a lot, but it's never in places that are like. Interesting to share. Except for that post-fuckening excerpt I've already referenced. So back to Iron and Silver I go! Our nameless protag has a mission and they're gonna see it through, no matter how worried their adopted mother gets.)

Not wanting to wake your hosts, you pull the blanket from the next hook on the door, slipping out into the chill night. The lights still bathe the town in warm, inviting light, the snow muffling signs of life to near-silence as you draw the blanket around your shoulders. Steeling yourself for the scolding of the century, you flip the phone open, letting out a deep breath and watching it fog the air before you. “...Hello?” “Where are you?” Toriel’s voice is a comfort despite the frightened sharpness to her voice. “Are you all right? Has anyone found you? Describe where you are--I’ll find you as soon as I’m able.” The questions are fast, going past your attempts to interrupt until you find a breath’s space to break in. “Mom. Momma, I’m fine. I promise. I’m safe, don’t worry.” A beat of silence follows. “My dearest child, what do you think you are doing?” Her voice sounds so small, so vulnerable that you feel a lump forming in your throat. “This world is so cold. So unforgiving. If Asgore finds you, if one of his soldiers catches wind of a human, not even I can protect you. It’s still very early; you should be able to return before anything should happen.” “And what, wait for someone else to figure out what’s going on?” The sharpness you hear from your tone shocks you, shaking your head as you try to force your voice into something more gentle. “I mean...that last cave-in was right in front of our door. And that poor Migosp...Momma, it’s getting closer. It’s getting worse. I can’t let it keep going. And it’s happening out here, too--someone I met has seen it--” “You met someone?” She breaks in, that fear never leaving her voice. “Who? How far did you get?”

Cuddle/Snuggle: (I have only just now realized I have never used either of these words. Like. Ever. I guess I've been focusing WAY too much on the pining and not enough on the actual smoochies, so here, have a cute TedPipes-flavored thing from the unfinished next-chapter of Shine On. The Derry kids come home, and realize that they'd forgotten a little too much in their time away.)

She turns, fixed by the familiarity of the stranger standing behind her. He’s almost a head taller than her, with dark curly hair and a warm smile that crinkles the edges of pale blue eyes. “You make for a terrible door.” he goes on, gesturing to her with one hand as the other slips into the pocket of his jacket.  “Teddy?” The name brings a younger face to her mind, bright and freckled and just a little bucktoothed. In a flash she remembers laying in the floor of her bedroom listening to her sister’s old record player, sitting in a dark movie theater waiting for the previews of some new movie to end, and swinging off of a rope into the water at the quarry…never more than an arm’s length away from the one kid who insisted that no one should spend summer break alone. He’s older now, but still has that mischievous light in his eyes. “Hey, Piper. Been a while.” “Holy shit,” Her tension is forgotten completely as she meets him in a hug that smells of cigarette smoke and cologne. The pure warmth she feels is unmistakable, beaming as she pulls back just enough to look up at him. “God, look at you.” She breathes, realizing that time has done him incredibly well. Those freckles are still there, but time has given them some softness, as well as a softness around his eyes and mouth. He’s really grown into himself, features and posture much stronger than she remembers. Oh no, she thinks. Puberty hit Weizak like a Mack truck. “Look at you.” He returns with a self-conscious laugh, arms still looped around her back. Her heart is still racing, she finds, trying and failing to find words to say that encompass the strength of emotions running through her. 

[purpureumwrites]

Darth Vader x Reader | Twin Moons | Bonus Chapter

A/N: Anon asked for more Twin Moons, I read the message, and for some reason, after not writing for so long, I just couldn't stop myself. So here is the bonus chapter. If someone has a good idea for another Vader one-shot or fic, I'd be happy to hear it. I really enjoy writing him, and it really bothers me when he's written ooc, which is way too often tbh, so I try to capture him as best as I can and it's quite fun. Hope you like this c:

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1.5k.

A year ago, the two of you had reached an agreement. A fragile, very risky, agreement.

Keeping a curated public image, you continued your days behaving as the typical superior and subordinate would. No displays of affection, not a single trace of anything beyond a professional relationship. You mimicked the way everyone else reacted and conducted themselves around him: with caution, docility and a constant dose of fear. Not that you had to fake much of it. You may have gotten closer than most, but neither would pretend he wasn’t Darth Vader. It wasn’t just about being caught. He was a risk himself.

You endured the lectures, punishments and trials expected, some by his own hand, some by others. You trained and worked tenaciously, always dancing over the line of averageness. Enough to be useful and worth of working with him as your boss, but always short of presenting yourself as competition in the intricate game of power within the Empire.

Your training with the Force never finished. There were no official sessions anymore, but he hadn’t stopped teaching you and testing your abilities. You had managed to damp it down, restrain it. Even though it would probably be useless if you were to meet the Emperor himself, it could save you a lot of trouble and attention from everyone else. It was a constant effort that had gained you a finesse and control over it that you never thought you would have.

It felt unnatural at first. This energy had been something natural and flowing, not to be reined in and obfuscated, but to be felt and experienced just as the wind or the sun could be. You worried sometimes about bursting. But if there was something that could push those thoughts aside, it was fear and of that you had plenty.

After a few weeks of routine, you got used to the rhythm. What you couldn’t get used to, was him. Actually him. Intimate, personal him.

Sex had so many shades. It was needy and abrupt when you had spent too much time apart, each on your own missions. It was slow and steady if you had the time and privacy. It was harsh and overpowering after you misbehaved.

You couldn’t say he had become open and vulnerable to you. Most probably, that would never happen. But he was more tolerant and more aware of your cues, and he seeked your presence unlike any other. He may not love you, probably wouldn’t admit it even if he did, but at least he seemed to feel some warped version of it. You weren’t sure if you did anyway. The power balance was so off that lines blurred where they shouldn’t, and feelings were a convoluted mess. It would hurt if he discarded you and you missed him dearly when apart. That was all you needed to know.

As he kneeled before his master, Vader focused only on his current objective. There was nothing else, not until this business was done and he was out of there. Just as he had done countless times before.

Once you had established the nature of your relationship and its rules, he easily compartmentalized that new side of his life. It was crucial that he did. He would feel the consequences, he would be punished for it, but you… you would pay the price with your life. You were the only thing the Emperor had no control over in his life. He would kill you in a blink to regain absolute power over him.

It was a necessity that he saw you struggle with the first few weeks. He treated you the same as anyone else which, to be fair, meant as cruel and brutal as the rest of his subordinates endured. He could see glimpses of sadness in your eyes, that the rest would mistake for horror. And you would be more quiet and withdrawn the next time you were together. He never apologized, there was nothing to be sorry for. He did what he had to do. Though he couldn’t deny that he may be more gentle those nights.

But as quick as you seemed to learn everything else, you adapted to it. He hated the intensity of his emotions around you but… god, was he proud of you. Maybe you weren’t a natural at many aspects your position asked of you, maybe you still struggled from time to time, maybe you were scared deep down. But you were resilient, strong and tenacious.

And the same way you got used to some things, he had gotten used to others. The closeness, the weight of your body on his bed, the warmth when you locked your arms around him, the intoxicating, glorious sex. He longed for you when you were separated in a way he was sure he never would again.

And together, you were serving the Empire with unrelentent determination.

***

A sudden tug pulled you out of your sleep. You looked around the red lit room, finding no one. The sea of lava outside the fortress was all that could be seen through the windows, an unexpected scenery for such a calm place, at least from the other side of its black, impenetrable walls.

“Run”, a voice roared in your mind.

You jumped out from under the sheets. That was his voice. He wasn’t in Mustafar, there were no alarms going off in the building and the outside looked exactly the same as any other day, which could only mean that whatever this imminent danger was, it was coming only for you.

Putting your clothes on, you went over the steps of the emergency plan: pick up your bag, run to the closest, most discreet vessel you could find and fly off to a planet with weak imperial presence. Probably stop on the way there in some space station (one dodgy enough for anyone with common sense to avoid) for some fuel and quick alterations to the ship. Pick a new name. Tiptoe around for the rest of your life.

You had no time to assimilate the situation. You ran through the corridors as if in a trance, your feet moving by themselves, everything feeling like a dream you couldn’t wake up from. It didn’t really hit you until you had been sat in the ship for a couple of hours. Once the adrenaline started to wore off and you were semi-confident that there were no imperials following you, you held onto the arms of your chair as you started sobbing.

It didn’t matter how much you thought you were ready for this, how aware you were of the outcomes of your decision. Your life ended here. Maybe you would die or maybe you would disappear. Whatever your future entailed, it was certain the person you were until that very moment would soon expire. You would be no longer.

After you reached the worst space station you had ever stepped in and agreed to some questionable customization for your ship, you rented a small, bleak room to rest for a couple of hours before you made your final trip to your potential new, depressing home planet.

You weren’t even deeply asleep, you were still too agitated, when the door opened. You felt him before even opening your eyes. You sat up in the bed, staring at your legs embarrassed by your own weakness, a tear already rolling down your cheek. He sat next to you in complete silence.

A few seconds passed before he spoke. “They are going through your room in my fortress. You’re still hours ahead of them”

You didn’t answer. Neither of you moved until you felt his arm around your waist pulling you to him. As he pat the bed, you moved instinctively to straddle him. You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck and finally feeling some sense of release when he held you tight.

“You will survive this, girl”

“Will you?”

“I will not be crushed so easily”

After… seconds, maybe minutes, your sense of time had been warped since you woke up, he stood up with you still in his arms. As he loosened his grip, you put your feet on the ground.

“I have taught you better than this”

“I know”, you looked up to him. “I’m sorry. This is going surprisingly worse and better than I had imagined, at the same time, somehow”. You wiped the last tears off your face. "I will miss you"

“Go to your ship after I leave. Don’t look back. He will be searching for you”, he said walking towards the door, but stopped for a moment. “I will not forget you”

[sledgehamur]

tag game!

rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you want) <3

not super active on here but @just-prime is very determined to change that lol. so here's a bit of dialogue from the GoWxMCU crossover fic that's been consuming my life for the past year or so that I still haven't found the courage to post. maybe one day when I have more than four chapters finished to my liking :)

I don't have any mutuals to tag so I'm just gonna tag my fav author on here @arleniansdoodles!!! I've been obsessed with their fic 'Of Atreus and Calliope' and highly recommend it if you want some super cute sibling shenanigans!

This is a bit from right after Atreus gets zapped into MCU New York and he's trying to find his way around the city.

Atreus took a few more deep breaths to ground himself before fully taking in the alley. No ladder on the side of this building so no easy way to get to the roof without flying again.  “Damn,” he sighs aloud.  I wouldn’t do that if I was you. At least . . . not dressed like that. Atreus snaps to attention as he frantically looks around for the source of the voice.  Hey, relax kid. Don’t burst a blood vessel. Now that hes paying attention, Atreus realizes the voice is echoing in his mind. “What? Who's there?” he asks to the seemingly empty alley.  Over here. To your right.  Slowly turning his head, Atreus found the source of the voice. A bird, but no bird that he’d ever seen before, perched on a large metal box that stunk like the poisonous Grim of Svartalfheim.  “Oh sorry. I didn’t realize there was anyone else here,” Atreus said. Don’t worry about it. After a beat, the strange bird craned its head towards Atreus. You’re not from around here are ya’? “Is it that obvious?” We don’t get many shiny gold flacons flyin’ around New York. More pigeon country. “New York? Pigeons? Sorry, you lost me.” Damn, you really aren’t from around here. “Nope,” Atreus pops the p at the end of the word as he looks back up toward the roof. “Can I ask you something . . . ah” the question trails off. Ronny. Shoot. “Ronny, do you know if there's any way to get in there from the roof?” he gestures to the building next to them.  Course there is. Guys always keep one of the windows popped n’case they need a smoke. Here, I’ll show ya.  “Thanks!” Atreus replies as Ronny takes off from his perch. “Um, you mind if I copy your look?” Knock yourself out kid. Doubt you could do me justice though.  Atreus takes a breath and shifts into an auburn pigeon. He races to follow Ronny up the side of the building to the roof.

bonus pigeon Atreus if anyone cares