#cannot wait to see 4 in action let me tell you

[mo-ok]

various insects and small vertebrates

[shkudss]

Weakened by Eywa Pt. 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Masterlist

Summary: Ao'nung finally realizes that his actions have consequences

Warnings: curse words, bullying, mental breakdown, English isn't my first language

Author's note: tbh I didn't plan it to be longer than 2 parts, but now I think it'll be about 4-5 part (but I'm not sure lol). Anyways, I hope you will like it!

Yawntutsyip - darling, little loved one

Yaymak - foolish, ignorant

Yayo - bird

When Neytiri and Jake saw you in a complete mess on Neteyam’s hands, they thought something bad happened with you in the water.

Kiri and Lo’ak explained what happened without hiding any details. Neytiri was so furious that she was ready to take her bow and fight this little ignorant boy. She knew that he was annoying her kids, but didn’t expect it to be as bad as it turned out. On the other hand, there was Jake. He was furious too, he knew that his attitude towards all situations when Ao’nung annoyed his kids caused it. He shouldn’t have told his kids to respect him just because he’s Olo’eyktan’s son. That was his fault.

“Tonowari must know what his son did.” Neytiri was crying like any mother who sees her child in pain. Especially that type of pain which you cannot see. “Ma Jake, tell something! We can’t let that go. My daughter is hurt and only Eywa knows if she’ll be able to heal!”

Jake looked at her and all his kids, who were waiting for his response. Neteyam was still holding you like a baby while you were sleeping. His daughter, his little yayo. He has to protect you.

“I’ll talk to Tonowari.”

“I’ll go with you.” Neytiri wanted to talk to Ronal and say her all this she had to carry inside of her soul since they arrived here.

Jake didn’t want her to come, he knew that she was extremely emotional now. He gave her a look asking if he’s sure it’s the right thing. Neytiri was determined to do that.

“Wait here, take care of your sister.”

***

“I’ll talk to him and he’ll be punished for his actions. I’m really sorry for what happened. I didn’t raise him this way. I hope Y/N will forgive him one day.”

Toniwari and Ronal were in a huge shock when Jake told them what Ao’nung did. The shame Olo’eyktan and his Tsahik felt wasn’t even close to the amount of pain Jake and Neytiri had to carry.

“Don’t ever let him come to my daughter again! If I notice him even thinking about coming to her, I swear I will not control myself.”

“Neytiri...” Jake didn’t want relationship with leader’s family to worsen.

“She’s right. He should stay away from her. I don’t want him to hurt an innocent soul again. I promise, we’ll look after him.” Ronal knew how Neytiri must feel herself now. “I promise as mother to mother. If you need help, tell me.”

Neytiri just nodded, she was still not over her emotions. But she was thankful for this. Ronal was the only one who could understand her at least a little.

***

It’s been two weeks since your breakdown. These two weeks you’ve been taken care by your whole family and you barely walked out of your Marui. You felt like you were dried out. No emotions at all. Jake and Neytiri were extremely worried about your mental state. You barely talked to anyone, even Kiri, and preferred to do things on your own.

Neteyam didn’t even think about keeping your lessons on ilu riding. He tried to catch your interest on other things, but nothing caught your eye. Even Tuk tried to ask you questions to talk just a little. You had no energy to keep the conversation and pay proper attention to your little sister.

“Let’s go find some seashells?” Tuk didn’t give up on you.

“Tuk, I have no strength to do that. I’m tired.” You felt really bad every time you refused Tuk, but you couldn’t help it.

“Neteyam and Lo’ak are hunting, Kiri as usually disappeared. Mom and dad don’t let me do there alone. Please, I need you.” She started whimpering and shaking your hand.

“Okay, okay. But only for 30 minutes.”

“Thank you, I love you! Best sister ever!” Seeing Tuk jumping in happiness and saying those words warmed your heart. You smiled a little at the scene of here trying to find her little bag for seashells.

Once you went out of your house, you squinted because of the sunlight. These two weeks definitely affected you. The warmth of the sun and brightness of azure water reminds you of how you loved Pandora.

Tuk was holding your hand and trying to hurry you up to the shore. It became her hobby since you arrived here. Each in your family has at least one bracelet she made out of shells.

“I’ll sit here, you can go. Call me if you need help.” You were sitting exactly as that day with Kiri. The feeling of light waves surrounding you, calmed you a little. You were watching Tuk swimming and looking for colorful seashells. Sometimes she was distracted by some fish. As you were supervising little sister, you fell deep into thoughts and remembered that day. Sadness you felt all these days became more explicit.

You don’t know how to explain this sadness and why you feel it. You should be angry, offended, but not sad. Ao’nung said horrible things to you, but you’re not angry. Why?

“Oh Great Mother, help me. Let me come over this. I want to be happy again.” You whispered to yourself, feeling the tear falling to the water.

“Y/N…?”

Him.

You feel nervousness raising up in your body. Eywa must be testing you. You’re afraid to turn your head to Ao’nung.

“Please, don’t do this to me again. I can’t bear it anymore.” Your voice was trembling a little, but it was enough for him to understand your state. Especially, when he finally looked at you. Your eyes were like a glass, but without even a little sparkle.

He was standing about 2 meters away from you to keep distance.

“Y/N, I wanted…”

“What are you doing here?!” Lo’ak was furious, walking briskly towards him.

“Bruh, why are you always here.” You heard Ao’nung mumbling it annoyingly. You didn’t wasn’t really worried about what’s going to happen. Feels like you’re a doll without real emotions.

“You’ve been told you to stay away from Y/N. Are you that yaymak? Do you need us to punch you again to understand it?” Your brother came to him as close as possible and pointed at his chest aggressively. Lo’ak just like Neytiri was ready to fight him.

“I wanted to talk to her… normally.” Ao’nung raised his hands as a sign of peace and tried to stay as calm as possible. Even though his fists were itchy to punch him. “I won’t hurt her”.

“I don’t care. You’ve talked to her already and you see the result. It’s her first time outside since the past two weeks. Don’t make it worse.” Lo’ak lowered his voice so you won’t hear their conversation. You didn’t really care and turned back to keep watching after Tuk. She didn’t notice things happening on the beach, she was involved in her hobby. Her little bag was already full of shells, but she wanted to get more.

“Hey, you finally wanted to get some sun?” In a couple if minutes Lo’ak was sitting next to you. He wasn’t mad anymore.

“No, Tuk asked me to. All of you were too busy to accompany her in finding seashells. I didn’t want to let her down.” You smiled a little, watching your sister smiling as she find another colorful thing.

“But…” you noticed Lo’ak hesitating about something.

“What’s wrong?”

“Never mind. I’m glad you’re finally getting out of Marui. We are forest Na’vis, not Marui Na’vis.” He chuckled a little at his own joke and you couldn’t help but do it too.

Maybe, it’s not that bad.

Thank you, Great Mother.

***

Another two weeks passed. Since that day each member of your family tried to take you outside. Now you go out on your own just to think about your feelings. You are still trying to stay away from water and haven’t swam yet, but you’ve been exploring the little forest that’s actually pretty comfortable. It reminds you of home and you don’t have to hold your breath or ride ilu here.

You can be yourself.

Now you play with fan lizards and even laugh a little. It’s kind of meditation. Spending time in your environment, your home, helps your mental state. Jake says that you shouldn’t go deep into forest and you assure him that you won’t, but sometimes you loose the track of time and forget about your promise. What this happens, Neteyam is always first who goes to find you.

You feel unity with Eywa. It’s your secret, sacred place. You have a little pond here, some fruits growing on the trees and silence. This is your little world free from all worries, free from reality. You fulfill your energy here and nobody interrupts you peace.

You were sitting on the thick branch, involved in making a little bracelet from beads for Tuk. She gifted you a lot of bracelets and necklaces she made. You want to pay her back.

Suddenly your senses catch someone’s presence. Nobody is supposed to find you. It’s afternoon and none of your family should be trying to find you. Leaving all things, you silently stood up and tried to hide behind the tree as Neytiri taught you. You looked behind your shoulder to check who’s that, your knife is ready to serve you.

You heard stranger’s steps coming closer to the tree. You were getting ready to attack, no unnecessary thoughts were in your mind. Just as mom taught you. This is your place, your forest.

Another step and you catch this person, pushing them to a tree and putting a knife to their neck.

“Holy shit!”

You look up. Why is he here?

“Ao’nung? What are you doing here?”

All your strength disappeared the moment you realized who’s standing in front of you. Fear replaced it, slowly taking control over you.

You’re alone, with him.

“No, no, no, Y/N”

You walked back, still holding your knife firmly to protect yourself, but your hands were shaking which made things obvious. You’re just like a little animal who’s afraid but has nothing to do but protect yourself as you can.

“Don’t…”

“Y/N, I wanted to talk to you. Please, let me speak.”

You were afraid to trust him. Because his words hurt you. You’re afraid to hear him speaking to you. But the way he looks at you, his eyes aren’t filled with anger. You take your time, considering his words.

Ao’nung was waiting patiently, he was afraid to do something wrong. Examining your concerned look, he prayed to Eywa for you to trust him. The effort he put to find you and go through this forest without being injured was enormous. Now he understands how hard it is for you to get used to Metkayina’s way of life. He should have thought about it before.

“Don’t come here again.”

And you left, leaving him alone in this forest.

“You are skxawng, Ao’nung.”

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

P.S. There wasn't a lot of Aonung and y/n's conversations and I focused more on her recovery and feelings process, but I hope you liked it! Next parts will be more about Aonung and Y/N! Also, i'm not really sure how taglist thing really work, I hope I did it right🫣

Anyways, if you want to be tagged, comment and I'll add you!

Peace, friendship, bubblegum✌🏻💗

Taglist: @elegantkidfansoul @ijwsbdinp

[jinhua-shu]

HIS POINT OF VIEW, Scaramouche/Wanderer x GN!Reader.

PART 1: OVERTHINKING

PART 2: HIS POINT OF VIEW

PART 3: HELPLESS

PART 4: THE AFTER-EFFECT

PART 5: I LOVE YOU DUMMY

@lxkeeeee 🫶

“ Fuck it! ” scaramouche cursed under his breath as he threw his notebook towards the wall, he sighed heavily. why did he have to come into conclusion, that he has fallen for them? every day, every-time they talk to each other his feelings grew. at first he did not mind it, he thought he was being delusional.

but as he realizes it day by day, he knew he fucked up.

He knew, that he shouldn’t fall for Them, because They’ll just leave him.

He knew, that he’s not worth anything, for he got betrayed countless of times.

but he cannot help but hope.. for the chance to have Them be his by side, to heal him and love him.

But when he got that message from you, he was star strucked. he blushed madly as he reacts to the message, before typing in a reply.

“ I need some time to think. “

He closed the chat, feeling giddy. he felt ecstatic, but realization once hits him again. he sat upright on his couch, quite abruptly.

“ What if.. what if.. my bipolar attitude will make them hate me, once we started dating? “ scaramouche bits the inside of his cheek.

“ My moodiness will affect the relationship. “

he sighed before glancing at the ceiling fan.

“ Won’t it hurt them.. if i reject them for such puny excuses? we did talk about the possibility.. of being together… “ He scratches his head in frustration.

“ It’s pathetic to see myself be so self aware of my feelings and actions. i really am pathetic. “

He covers his eyes in shame with his arm, before taking a deep breath.

“ I… hate my feelings.. “

he said before going into slumber.

Two days has passed, he still doesn’t know what to do. he’s confused and frustrated. he simply wanted to have them.. but he cannot. he’s not worthy for their time and effort.

Nahida came knocking on his door with a tray of cookies that she had bought from a supermarket nearby.

“ Hey.. how’re you doing these past few days? Y/N seemed a little down for some time now.. did anything happen? “

she softly said, as she places down the tray on the bedside table. before plopping herself down on Scaramouche’s bed.

“ Leave me alone.. i need some time to think about something. “ scara groans as he covers his head with his pillow.

Nahida sadly chuckles as she stood up from Scara’s bed before heading back to her room.

“ i’m right here if you need anything, i’ll be happy to help you “

As she says those words scara hastily tells her to stop.

“ wait.. nahida.. what do you think i should do? “

Scara looks away as he sat up from his bed.

Nahida watches him in curiosity.

“ Is this about Y/N? “ she asks him, as she walks back towards scaramouche.

Getting no reply from him, she hummed to herself.

“ If you truly like them, why don’t you tell them? or if you’re not ready.. and just want to be just friends for now, tell them that. you can’t let them expect for your return.. you can’t let them wait for you, because it’ll only break them down as the day passes by. “

Nahida pats scara’s head as she smiles softly at him.

“ Don’t let them wait, or don’t let them hope too much. It hurts them. “

Nahida walks away, humming to herself. leaving scara in his room full of thoughts.

Scaramouche looked towards his charging device, before sighing. he took his phone from its charging port, to finally reply to your message.

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

«A» Lethe - George Weasly x Reader

Masterlist.

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

Chapter Three

[A]Lethe.

Lethe: In Greek mythology, Lethe was the daughter of Eris (Strife) and the personification of oblivion. Lethe is also the name of a river or plain in the infernal regions.

In Orphism, a Greek mystical religious movement, it was believed that the newly dead who drank from the River Lethe would lose all memory of their past existence. The initiated were taught to seek instead the river of memory, Mnemosyne, thus securing the end of the transmigration of the soul. At the oracle of Trophonius, which was thought to be an entrance to the underworld, there were two springs called Lethe and Mnemosyne.

[A]Lethe> A-letheia> Not Forgetting; the truth.

Chapter Four.

            Your heart was hammering and for a split second or so, it was the only sound inside the apartment.  You took a deep breath in. When he opened his eyes, you were packing your backpack. You wouldn’t stay there, not tonight. You had to go out. He had no idea how to fix it, but seeing you ready to go just broke him.                     “Don’t leave” his voice made your heart squeeze, but you ignored it. You tried to zip the bag and the zip broke, making you go from zero to a thousand, letting go of a scream you had been holding a while. It made his blood freeze. It was desperation, not just anger and pain.

            Fairytales and storybooks had gotten it all wrong. You were taught that love was a feeling, but feelings were fleeting and unreliable. Feelings were not a true source of support for you or your partner. A relationship couldn’t be defined by something as unpredictable as your feelings or your emotions in the moment. Love was a choice, and you were choosing to be there. You were choosing to love him despite how afraid your heart was. You were choosing to let him in regardless of what your past had taught you. You were choosing to place your heart in his hands and hope he will not break it. Suddenly, you threw the bag across the room, breaking the lamp on his nightstand, and you turned to face him, an angry expression was twisting your face. He had never seen you mad, let alone mad at him.                  “No, you don’t get to ask me to stay” you threw at him and it pierced him like an arrow. You wanted to tell him that you were choosing to wake up every day at 4 a.m. to watch the sunrise because you wanted to know why he liked sunrises so much. But, instead, you were accusing him of acting the way you were, really. You were angry and sad and lost and guilty and so much in love and it broke you down. The frustration was enough to make your way towards him and then not recall it.                     He didn’t have anything to say. His mind was screaming at him how awful he was, waiting for his brother to die to be with the girl he always liked. Because that was exactly what he thought he was doing, and it was crushing him. He couldn’t justify his actions in any other way, something you were thinking about yourself… The thing was, you got a second chance at happiness, in love, in companionship and you were going to throw it away because of its irony.               You smiled, in a sad way, because you knew that it would end in flames. You couldn’t go back and it hurt you but it would be for the best since you weren’t just friends anymore.      

  “You might be afraid, but I know that love is a choice, and you happen to be mine. So, no, don’t try to make me stay when all we can be is almost something. I cannot keep doing it” you blurted out and you turned away to get out of the door, but you never made it.      He knew that if you walked out that door, he wouldn’t be seeing you again. He knew you would actively avoid him and it killed him to know that. He had to convince his mind to shut up and the guilt to stop existing for a while, but he wouldn’t be losing you this time.            

“I am terrified I am going to lose you because I love you” he breathed, and your mouth hit the floor. For him to say it out loud, it would have been one hell of a battle. You could tell that there was this tension again, gaining over you but you couldn’t handle it, so you slowly took a step back. You needed time to wrap your mind around everything and to have a talk with someone else because the guilt was eating both of you alive.                You shook your head, wanting to let go and be happy again, but you needed space, time and possibly someone else to tell you that it was okay to be happy again, it was okay to be in love again, it was okay to be with someone else again.

            “I need you to think about your choices and the choices you make because someone else thought they would suit you. You know mine. When you figure out yours, you know where to find me” you let out and kissed him, a simple peck on his lips. It was about time. You had to take care of yourself and give him space and time to figure out his own needs and choices. All those years, he was the second one, the one who did what people expected him to do. So many choices weren’t his, even if he had thought of them as such for the longest time. This time, you wanted him to take his time, deal with his own trauma, in his own pace, by himself for himself. You wanted to leave, not because you didn’t want to be there but because you wish to give him time and space.                  “Don’t leave” he said again, but this time his voice wasn’t fragile; it was broken but not all that delicate. A soft desperation had crept up his spine; he knew that this… in its entirety had to be wrong but he couldn’t ignore that it felt as right as right can feel. There was a twisted irony, bitter and vile, running through his veins; he bit his lips hard to stop it from lacing his words.      

            You saw the battle inside of him. You weren’t stupid. The same guilt, the same pain, the same agony, the same hatred – you felt them too. Ever since you tried to ignore why you were staying with him; not because he was reminding you of Fred but because he was George.

You stared at him, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might split your chest wide open. George stood there, unmoving, but the look in his eyes was raw, fractured. There was something so desperate in the way he looked at you, a kind of vulnerability that made your legs tremble beneath the weight of it. His lips, still slightly parted from that simple kiss you’d given him, looked like they were on the verge of forming a protest—one last plea. But his words hung suspended, the space between you a chasm filled with the past, the future, and all the impossible choices neither of you knew how to make.

You wanted to leave, you had convinced yourself you had to, but your feet wouldn't move. His last "don't leave" wasn’t just a request—it was a crack in the armor, and it spilled out between you, thick and aching. You could hear the unsaid words in the way his voice broke, the way his body shifted closer to you, as if drawn by some invisible tether neither of you had the strength to cut.

You saw it then—the war raging in him. The guilt, the self-loathing, the unspoken fear that had been gnawing at both of you for far too long. It was written all over his face, in the tight clench of his jaw, the trembling in his hands as they clenched into fists at his sides. He looked as though he was fighting with every fiber of his being to keep himself from reaching out to you, from pulling you back into his arms and burying his face in the comfort of your skin. But you saw it—the part of him that wanted to give in, that wanted you to stay, that wanted to be selfish enough to ask you to forget everything else, just for a moment, and be his.

Your throat tightened, and you wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. You had loved Fred, and part of you always would, but now, now it wasn’t Fred’s ghost that made your chest ache. It was George. George. His crooked smile, his quiet wit, the way he always tried to keep it together even when the world was crumbling around him. The way he made you laugh when you didn’t think you ever could again. But you couldn't say it. Not yet. The weight of it was too much, pressing down on your lungs until you felt like you might suffocate under its pressure. And still, you couldn’t move.

“You are the only thing holy to me,” he whispered, the words coming out like a confession, like a prayer, and his voice cracked on the last syllable. “It has always been you”.

You swallowed hard, your fingers clenching the strap of your bag as if it could anchor you to the moment, to anything. You were afraid—afraid of what staying would mean, of what it would do to both of you. Afraid that the weight of all this guilt, all this love, would crush you both. And yet, as much as you feared staying, the thought of walking away, of leaving him behind in this suffocating silence, felt even worse.

You took a shaky breath, and your bag slipped from your shoulder, falling to the floor with a soft thud. His eyes widened, watching the movement like it was the beginning of something inevitable. You didn’t know what made you do it, what invisible force was propelling you forward, but suddenly you were in front of him again, your hand reaching out to cup his face. The only thing holy to him.

His skin was warm beneath your fingertips, and he closed his eyes at the contact, his breath catching in his throat. His stubble grazed your palm, rough and real, grounding you in the present moment. And suddenly, all the pain, all the guilt, all the unspoken words between you faded into the background. All that was left was him, standing before you, broken and beautiful.

"George..." His name slipped from your lips like a sigh, and before you could think, before you could convince yourself otherwise, you leaned in and kissed him. And it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t simple. It was fierce and raw and desperate, filled with all the things you couldn’t say. His lips crashed against yours, and this time, he didn’t hold back. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him with an intensity that stole your breath, that made you feel like you were falling apart and being held together all at once. His hands roamed your back, rough and insistent, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go.

You moaned into his mouth, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer. You needed him, needed to feel his heartbeat against yours, needed to know that this was real. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips trailing down to your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake.

“Please…” His voice was ragged, broken. He kissed along your jaw, your pulse, the spot beneath your ear where you were most vulnerable. “Stay, stay, stay.”

Your chest tightened, and you couldn’t think straight. His hands were everywhere, searing your skin, claiming you in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. You felt him scoop you up, lifting you with ease and carrying you across the room, never once breaking the kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your back pressing into the wall as his body pinned you there, hard and wanting.

He kissed you like it was the last thing he’d ever do, like he’d waited too long to feel something real, and he was afraid this moment might slip away if he didn’t hold onto it with everything he had. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling gently as his mouth devoured yours, and you kissed him back with all the pent-up need, the unspoken desire that had been building between you for months.

You gasped when his lips found your collarbone, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, and you arched into him, desperate for more. Your heart was pounding, your breaths coming in shallow bursts, and all you could think about was him—the way he felt against you, the way his hands moved with a mix of hunger and tenderness that made your head spin. You realized that you were heading towards his room, and you found yourself lost.

It was messy, imperfect, and full of desperation, but it was real. So real it hurt. And as his lips found yours again, the world melted away, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other, holding on like your lives depended on it. And maybe, in that moment, they did.

            The morning light filtered in slowly, casting soft gold across the room, but it did nothing to quiet the storm inside you. You lay there, still tangled in his sheets, your body warm from the night before, but your mind was anything but settled. It wasn’t just the heat of his skin against yours or the memory of how easily you had fallen into each other—it was everything that came with it. Every unspoken word, every glance that had passed between you over the months, heavy with the weight of your shared loss, had led to this moment. And now that you were here, the quiet aftermath of the night felt almost too fragile to touch.

Next to you, George stirred. His arm was draped loosely over your waist, his fingers splayed across your skin as though he was holding on to something��maybe to you, maybe to the moment itself. His breath was slow and steady, the rise and fall of his chest grounding you, pulling you back from the rush of thoughts swirling in your head. You had memorized that sound without meaning to—the sound of him breathing through the long, quiet nights you had spent beside him, both of you trying not to drown in your grief. He was sleeping. Peacefully.

But this morning was different. The silence now wasn’t the same as the heavy, choking kind that filled the spaces between you on those other nights. It wasn’t quite peaceful, but it didn’t suffocate you either. It was quiet, yes—but not with regret. You didn’t feel regret. Not that. You couldn’t have felt that because you wouldn’t regret him – ever. But there was a weight to what had happened, to the way your bodies had come together with such raw intensity, as if you had both been holding on by a thread and had finally let go.

Inevitability. That was the word that kept echoing in your mind. It felt inevitable, something that had been building for so long you’d lost track of when it had first started. You weren’t sure if it began the day you looked into George’s eyes and didn’t see Fred staring back at you—or if it began even earlier, when the lines between friendship and something else blurred into shades of gray you hadn’t known how to navigate. And now that it had finally happened, the weight of that inevitability settled over you like a second skin.

George shifted beside you again, and you felt his fingers move—hesitant, unsure, like he was waking to the same uncertainty you were. You wondered if he would say something. Maybe acknowledge the shift between you. Reassure you that last night wasn’t a mistake, that it wasn’t just about filling the emptiness that Fred’s absence had left behind. Or maybe, you thought bitterly, he’d question it—wonder aloud if this was wrong, if he was just a stand-in for what you had really lost.

But the words didn’t come. Instead, he pressed closer, his breath warm against the back of your neck, and you heard it—the sigh. Soft, almost broken, as though he didn’t know how to hold the moment without it slipping through his fingers.

You turned your head, just enough to catch a glimpse of him in the soft light. His hair was tousled, sticking up in places where your hands had tangled in it the night before. His face was still relaxed in sleep, but there was a crease between his brows, like even in his dreams, he couldn’t quite let go of the weight he carried. You looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, you let yourself savor the sight of him like this—unguarded, vulnerable, real. Utterly yours.

But then the memory came rushing back—the sharp edge of it cutting through the tenderness like a blade. Fred. The tangled mess of emotions that always followed his name. You had loved Fred—deeply, completely. He had been your future once, the man you imagined sharing a life with. And now here you were, lying in his brother’s arms, but it didn’t feel like betrayal, not anymore. You didn’t care if you could explain it to anyone else, becaue George wasn’t a replacement. You knew that what you felt for him was different, raw and messy, and it had grown from something so painful and real that it scared you.

But what would Fred have thought? Would he have understood? Would he have forgiven you for finding comfort, for finding something more in the last person who could possibly know what this grief felt like? You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to you like a shadow.

Next to you, George shifted again, and this time his eyes fluttered open, hazy from sleep but searching, like he was trying to make sense of the morning, of you, of everything that had just happened. When his gaze met yours, something flickered there—something so vulnerable and raw that it took your breath away. Fear. Guilt. The same emotions clung to him, you realized, like a second skin. But beneath all of that, there was something else. Something unspoken but so powerful that it kept you anchored in the moment, stopped you from pulling away.

It wasn’t a mistake.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice still rough with sleep. His hand found your stomach, resting there, gentle, but there was a hesitation in the way he touched you. As if he didn’t know if he was allowed to. As if he didn’t know if this—the two of you—was allowed to exist.

"Hey," you whispered back, and the word felt heavy with everything you weren’t saying. The weight of the night still lingered between you, but it wasn’t unbearable. It wasn’t crushing you like you feared it might.

You lay there like that for a long moment, neither of you moving, neither of you daring to break the silence. It wasn’t a silence filled with awkwardness or regret—it was something more complicated, more fragile. A quiet understanding passed between you. You both knew it in your bones: George wasn’t Fred, and you weren’t just the woman who had loved his brother. You were something else now, something neither of you had planned for but had been building all this time, under the surface.

But still, the fear lingered. The fear of what this meant. The fear of stepping into the unknown, of letting yourself want this—want him—without the constant shadow of the past looming over you.

He shifted again, this time propping himself up on his elbow, his face hovering just above yours. His eyes searched your face, and for a moment, you thought you might break under the weight of his gaze, under the weight of all the things you wanted to say but couldn’t. His hand found your face, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek, and that simple touch sent a shiver through you. It was so gentle, so full of things left unsaid, and yet it told you everything.

That pull—the pull that had been there for so long, unspoken but undeniable—was still there, stronger than ever. And now, there was no hiding from it.

He brushed his thumb over your cheek again, and you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of his touch seep in, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the swirl of emotions inside you. It was too much and not enough all at once—this moment, this touch, the unspoken words hanging between you. You opened your eyes again, meeting his, and there it was, the same confusion, the same questions, the same quiet desperation that you knew was mirrored in your own gaze.

He didn’t look away, didn’t flinch, though you could see the fear there, just beneath the surface. His fingers curled against your cheek, as if grounding himself in the feel of your skin, as though the weight of his touch might anchor him to the present, might keep him from drowning in the sea of what-ifs and should-haves that had haunted you both.

“I—” he started, but his voice faltered. His eyes searched yours, struggling to find the words neither of you had dared to say for so long. Then, something shifted, resolve replacing the hesitation. “It has always been you. And I am well aware of everything, as are you, but this, us—” His thumb traced your cheek, and his voice dropped to a whisper, raw and urgent. “I’d give everything for it to exist.”

The honesty in his words made something settle inside you, a truth you had long known but hadn’t let yourself fully embrace. It didn’t surprise you, not really, because deep down you had felt it too. All along. And now that it was out in the open, you weren’t afraid of it. Not anymore.

You held his gaze, steady, unwavering. His words echoed in the stillness of the room, and as they did, you realized how much of this you had already accepted. You had come to him not out of confusion, not out of guilt, but out of something far deeper. Something that had grown quietly between you both, unspoken but undeniable.

“I have never known such absolution before”. Your voice was calm, firm. You weren’t running from this anymore, weren’t questioning it. You knew what you felt for him. It had grown through shared pain, through friendship, through love—an unexpected, beautiful kind of love. And it didn’t matter if anyone else could see it – you two did and that was more than you had hoped.

His breath hitched, and for a moment, the weight of those words seemed to hang between you like a sacred truth. This wasn’t a fragile thing to be questioned or picked apart. This was a kind of redemption, a kind of grace neither of you had expected to find in each other.

Slowly, his hand slid from your cheek to the nape of your neck, pulling you gently toward him, his forehead resting against yours. His voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper.

“Ι never thought there could be any redemption in this,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. His forehead came to rest against yours, the quiet between you now thick with something almost otherworldly. The air felt charged, humming with the unspoken truth that you had found each other not by accident, but by something deeper—something fated. The silence wasn’t absence anymore. It was filled with a kind of reverence, a kind of grace that made everything that had come before this moment fade into the background.

His next breath trembled, and when he spoke again, his words were quiet, but steeped in a certainty that softened into something lighter, a hint of his familiar smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Almost playful, but still raw with truth.

“I want you to be alright, to be sure, and certain.” His eyes held yours, steady and unwavering, before his smile deepened, soft but genuine. “And, yes, okay, I want you.”

There was a tenderness in his voice, a mix of vulnerability and the ease you’d always known, like the gravity of the moment had lifted, just enough to let the light in. His smile lingered, but the weight of his words remained, heavy and grounding, though now it was wrapped in something warmer. The air between you felt charged but no longer burdened by all the uncertainty you had once carried. His hand, still resting at the nape of your neck, was gentle, thumb tracing slow, reassuring circles against your skin. It was like a promise, unspoken but felt deeply in the silence that followed.

You let his words settle over you, and for the first time in a long time, there was no hesitation, no lingering doubt. You felt steady, clear, and in the warmth of his gaze, you found something that had been eluding you for far too long—peace.

A soft laugh escaped you, breathless but real, as if the tension had finally broken. “I’m sure,” you whispered, your own smile rising to meet his, “and I want you too.”

His shoulders relaxed at your words, as though he'd been waiting for that confirmation, even though he'd already known it deep down. You could see the relief in his eyes, the playful edge softening into something far more profound.

For a moment, neither of you moved. It was as though you both understood that this was a turning point, the moment where everything that had once been broken, scattered, and uncertain had finally begun to make sense. Not perfectly, but enough. And that was all you needed.

Then, with a gentleness that made your heart ache, George leaned in again, his lips brushing yours—not in desperation this time, but in the quiet, certain kind of intimacy that spoke of something more. Something lasting.

And as he kissed you, slow and tender, it felt like a beginning.

Epilogue

The world outside had changed since that night, but for you and George, it felt like time had slowed, giving you both the quiet space to simply exist together. Away from prying eyes, away from questions you weren’t ready to answer. There was no need to explain what had bloomed between you—it was sacred, just for the two of you. In the small moments of dawn, in the spaces where no one else could intrude, you had found something unexpected, something that didn’t require justification.

For weeks, the world didn’t know. It was easier this way, to keep the fragile, precious thing you had built between you away from the weight of expectation. The world around you had a tendency to crowd in, to question, to press for details you weren’t ready to share. But you knew what you had. George knew it too. And in those stolen hours before the world woke, you shared a kind of intimacy that didn’t need validation from anyone else.

His laughter, always so rare and precious in the months before, now filled the quiet spaces. His touch, always careful, had grown more confident, more certain. You had become something that neither of you had expected, but now neither of you could imagine it being any other way. It felt like coming home, and in those private moments, it was all the absolution you needed.

But the world couldn’t be kept at bay forever. Bill’s birthday loomed ahead, and with it, the inevitability of re-entering that wider, complicated space. You had both known this would come, that eventually, you couldn’t keep hiding behind closed doors. The thought didn’t terrify you, but it did leave a weight in the back of your mind. Not guilt—never that—but the knowledge that eyes would be watching. People would wonder. And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t understand.

Yet when the morning of the birthday came, you found yourself smiling as George slipped his hand into yours, giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze. The unspoken understanding between you was enough to calm your nerves. You were ready for this now—not because you needed the world to see, but because you had found something that wasn’t fragile anymore. It had grown stronger, steady. What you had with George was real, and that was something no amount of curious eyes could take away.

The sun was low in the sky by the time you arrived at Shell Cottage, the soft hum of the sea a gentle backdrop to the gathering ahead. The smell of the ocean mixed with the distant sound of laughter, voices already spilling out of the house and onto the beach. You could hear the Weasley family inside, the warm, familiar buzz of conversation, and for a moment, you both paused just beyond the door.

George stood beside you, his hand still wrapped around yours, thumb brushing slow circles against your skin, a silent comfort. You looked up at him, catching his eye, and in that moment, the world outside seemed to fade again. It was just you and him, like it had been for the past few weeks—just the two of you, holding something more sacred than words could capture.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with a hint of that familiar playfulness. You smiled, nodding.

“Nope. But sure, let’s go.” With that, the two of you stepped inside. The warmth of the cottage enveloped you immediately, the familiar sounds of the Weasley family wrapping around you like a well-worn blanket. Bill, already laughing with Charlie near the fireplace, caught sight of you first, his smile widening as he moved to greet you both.

“Hey, you two! Glad you could make it,” he said, his voice bright with the easy charm that had always made Bill seem a little larger than life.

You offered a smile, exchanging polite words, but you could feel the shift already—the subtle glances, the way the room seemed to pause ever so slightly when George’s hand remained on the small of your back. It wasn’t dramatic. There was no grand reveal. But the way you stayed close to him, the way his fingers lingered just a little too long at your waist, told a quiet story that didn’t go unnoticed.

As you moved through the room, offering your greetings and catching up with family, you could feel the quiet curiosity begin to simmer beneath the surface. A glance from Ginny, a raised eyebrow from Percy, the curious look Fleur shot you as she passed by. None of them said a word—not yet—but the subtle realization had started to spread. It was there in the way George never strayed far from your side, in the way you leaned into him just slightly as you talked to Bill about some long-forgotten memory.

It was easy, the way you fit together, even here in front of everyone. And though you hadn’t spoken it aloud, the connection was unmistakable. You felt it in every soft touch, every quiet look. It wasn’t about making an announcement—it was about living in the truth of what you had. That truth was clear now, in the subtle ways you moved around each other, the ease with which you existed in this space. It wasn’t a secret anymore, but neither was it a spectacle. It was simply real, and that was enough.

Later, as the evening wore on and the stars began to scatter across the night sky, you found yourselves outside, away from the noise and the watchful eyes. The sound of the ocean was louder here, the air cooler. You leaned against the railing, looking out at the waves, feeling the peace of the night settle around you.

George stood beside you, his arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side. There was no need for words. The night, the sky, the quiet rhythm of the sea—it was all enough. You felt his breath steady beside you, the warmth of him a comfort against the cool breeze.

After a while, you tilted your head to look up at him, catching the soft curve of his smile in the moonlight.

“So… do you think they noticed?” He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“Noticed? Probably. Figured it out? Definitely.” His eyes glinted with that familiar spark, playful but tender. “But I’m not worried. They’ll understand, eventually.” You smiled, leaning into him, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I don’t care what they think. Not really. I love them, but…”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice soft, steady. His arm tightened around you, pulling you closer. “That’s why this works.”

And there, under the stars, with the sea whispering in the background, you felt the weight of everything lift. This was your truth, your love, and it didn’t need anything else. It was enough to simply be—to know that you had found something sacred, something real, and that it would stand no matter who was watching.

And in that quiet certainty, you knew—this was just the beginning.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, but its warmth did nothing to dispel the heavy tension in the room. Molly sat across from you and George, her eyes sharp, her fingers twisting the fabric of her apron in her lap, knuckles white. Arthur was quieter, his gaze thoughtful, but it was Molly who carried the weight of the unspoken words, the tension that had been building all evening. You could feel it coming—had felt it simmering under every glance, every unspoken question hanging in the air.

Molly’s voice broke the silence, low and tight, like she was holding back a tide of something sharper, something she hadn’t yet dared to let loose.

“I think we need to have an honest conversation,” she said, her eyes flicking between you and George. “About this.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and accusatory, and you felt the weight of them press down on your chest. There was no pretense, no soft introduction. She wasn’t asking, not really. She was demanding an explanation, her eyes narrowing in a way that made your stomach clench.

George shifted beside you, his hand still firm in yours, but you could feel the way his body tensed, the way his thumb stopped its gentle circles on your back. He was bracing for something, something neither of you wanted to face but knew you couldn’t avoid.

Arthur leaned forward slightly, his voice quieter but carrying the same undertone of expectation.

“We’ve seen the way things are between you,” he said, his gaze steady, though not unkind. “But what we need to know is—why? Why now? And why like this?”

It wasn’t a simple question. It wasn’t about the timing. It was about Fred. About the shadow that hung over the room like a presence neither of them had dared to name yet. And you could feel the air thicken, the unsaid words pulling at the edges of your already fragile calm.

George exhaled slowly, his voice low and firm, though there was a tightness in it that betrayed his own inner conflict.

“We’ve taken our time,” he said, carefully measured. “We didn’t rush into this.”

Molly’s eyes flashed, and her voice came sharper now, cutting through the careful calm George had tried to maintain.

“Time?” she repeated, almost incredulously. “Is that what you think this is about? Time? You think time makes this make sense?”

Her gaze snapped to you, sharp and unyielding, and you felt the full force of her anger—no, not anger, something deeper, something like betrayal.

“You were with Fred,” she said, her voice rising, each word striking like a blow. “You loved Fred. And now, now you’re here with George? His twin? Do you know how this looks? Do you even realize—what this is?”

Each word hit you like a stone, her disbelief, her hurt, ringing clear in every syllable. She wasn’t just questioning your relationship; she was accusing you, outright, of something you hadn’t expected her to say aloud.

“Mum,” George’s voice was firm but strained, and you could hear the edge of protectiveness creeping into it, the way his body shifted closer to you, as if he could shield you from the force of her words. “This isn’t about Fred. You know that.”

But Molly didn’t soften. If anything, her voice grew sharper, more desperate. “How can you say that?” she demanded, her eyes burning into his.

“How can you look me in the eye and say that this has nothing to do with Fred? She was with him. You—” her voice cracked slightly, “you’re his brother. Don’t you see how wrong this is? How it looks? How can it not be about him?”

The silence that followed her words was deafening. Fred’s name, finally spoken aloud, felt like a blow to the chest, knocking the air from your lungs. The weight of it pressed down on you, suffocating. You had known it would come, but not like this. Not with the accusation so raw, so pointed, hanging between all of you like a noose.

Arthur shifted in his seat, his eyes still on George but softer now, his voice quieter but no less weighted.

“This isn’t something to take lightly,” he said, his gaze flickering briefly to you before settling back on George. “We’ve all been through a lot, and losing Fred—” he paused, the weight of his words thick in the air, “—it’s changed everything. You can’t expect us not to wonder if this—if what you have—is built on that loss. On something that isn’t real.”

His words felt like they were pulling apart the very foundation you and George had built together, brick by brick, like every moment of grief, every moment of love, was being questioned. And the truth was—you had asked yourselves these same questions. In the quiet moments, in the spaces between you and George, you had wondered too. But you had come through it. Together.

You couldn’t stay silent any longer. You looked at Molly, trying to gather the right words, but they felt heavy, stuck in your throat.

“I know what this looks like,” you began softly, your voice trembling but firm. “But it’s not what you think. Fred… Fred will always be part of me. And yes, I loved him. But George… he’s not Fred.”

Molly’s eyes narrowed, sharp with disbelief. “Not Fred? How can you say that? He’s his twin. You see him every time you look at George, don’t you?”

You shook your head, trying to steady your breath, feeling George’s hand tighten around yours.

“They’re nothing alike,” you said, your voice quieter now, but resolute. “George isn’t Fred. He never has been. And I don’t see Fred when I look at him. I see George—I see who he is, and that’s who I’m with.”

Molly let out a shaky breath, her eyes searching yours, as though she was trying to find the lie in your words, trying to pick apart the truth from the grief she thought you were still carrying.

“But how can you be so sure? How can you say you’re not just holding onto him because… because he’s all that’s left of Fred?”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and you felt the weight of her grief settle over the room, suffocating, as if Fred’s absence was all anyone could feel. You swallowed hard, knowing that the truth wouldn’t make it easier.

“I can’t explain it in a way that will make you understand,” you said softly, your voice raw but steady. “But I’m not with George because he’s Fred’s twin. I’m with him because I love him. Because he is who he is, because he is not Fred’s twin, but because he was the fire that kept burning when eveything had crumbled to dust…  and what we have is something real. Molly, no one could ever replace Fred. But George isn’t his echo”.

Molly shook her head again, her disbelief palpable, and you could see the tears forming in her eyes. “It’s not that simple,” she whispered, almost to herself, as though she was trying to convince herself that what you were saying couldn’t possibly be true.

“You’re in love” Arthur murmurmed more to himself that anything, causing  George’s hand to tighten around yours, his body leaning forward now, his voice low and edged with something harder, something protective but also final.

“I’m not trying to replace Fred,” he said, and there was an unspoken fury in his tone, one that simmered just beneath the surface. “I could never replace him. And neither could she.” He glanced at you, his eyes full of something fierce and protective, but also conflicted, raw.

“We’ve made our peace with what’s happened – and still making it,” he continued, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “but this isn’t about clinging to what we’ve lost. It’s about what we’ve found.”

But even as he said the words, you could feel the weight of Molly’s disbelief, the way her gaze didn’t soften, the way Arthur’s brows remained furrowed in quiet concern.

“I don’t want to see you both hurt,” Molly whispered, her voice finally breaking, the rawness in her tone spilling out like a wound she couldn’t hide any longer. “I don’t want you to build something on grief, something that will fall apart the moment you realize—”

“We’ve already realized,” George cut her off, his voice calm but hard. “We’ve faced it. And we’ve built something that isn’t fragile. This isn’t about grief anymore. It’s about moving forward.”

Molly looked down at her hands, her fingers unclenching slightly, but the tension didn’t leave her shoulders. Arthur sat back in his chair, exhaling slowly, as though the weight of the conversation had drained something from him.

“We’re not asking for your approval,” George said quietly, his voice softer now but no less firm. “But we’re telling you this because you’re our family. And you need to understand—we’re not going anywhere.”

And for a moment, the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire, its soft glow casting long shadows across the walls. You could feel the tension slowly easing, not gone, but no longer suffocating.

Molly looked up at George, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just don’t want to lose you too.”

George’s hand pressed more firmly against your back, his eyes never leaving his mother’s. “You won’t.”

And with those words, the room settled into a fragile peace. The questions weren’t all answered, the wounds weren’t all healed, but for now, the truth of what you and George had was enough.

It had to be.

The cold air outside the Shell Cottage wrapped around you both like a veil, sharp and crisp against the rawness still lingering from the conversation inside. The quiet of the night felt too loud after the weight of Molly’s words, the accusations that still clung to your skin like an uncomfortable truth you hadn’t quite shaken off.

George walked beside you in silence, his footsteps heavy against the dirt path leading away from the house. His hand was still gripping yours, not in the easy way it usually did, but tighter, more like an anchor. You both needed one, after the storm of unspoken feelings that had passed through the sitting room, leaving everything raw and exposed.

For a long while, neither of you spoke. There was nothing to say that hadn’t already been felt in the suffocating air of that house. The questions Molly had raised—Fred’s name hovering over everything, like a ghost—had struck deeper than either of you wanted to admit. And yet, as the distance between you and the house grew, the space between you and George felt even heavier, filled with the unspoken truths you were both still trying to hold on to.

It wasn’t until you reached the edge of the ocean that George finally stopped, letting go of your hand and running his fingers through his hair, a gesture full of frustration. His breath came out in a shaky exhale, mist forming in the cold air as he stood there, staring at the sky, but not really seeing it.

“She doesn’t get it,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice thick with anger and something that sounded like guilt. “None of them do.”

You watched him for a moment, his posture tense, shoulders hunched forward like he was trying to protect himself from the world. He was trying to hold everything in, keep everything contained. But you knew better. You knew how much the weight of Fred’s memory pressed on him, how much the guilt gnawed at him in ways he would never admit, even to you.

“They’re afraid,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “They’re afraid of losing you”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he kicked at a loose stone on the ground. “Afraid of what? That we’re living a lie? That we don’t know what the hell we’re doing?”

His words hit the air, sharp and jagged, but you could hear the undercurrent of hurt beneath them. He wasn’t just angry at his parents. He was angry at himself, at the world, at everything that had led to this moment. The loss of Fred had left scars neither of you could ignore, but it wasn’t those scars that worried you. It was the way George carried them, like an invisible weight he thought he had to bear alone.

“You know that’s not what they mean,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “They’re just—confused. They look at us and see something else. They can’t help it. And maybe they’ll never stop.”

George’s jaw clenched, his eyes still fixed on some distant point, his voice a low rumble. “I don’t care if they see Fred. I care that they don’t see us.”

There it was—the heart of it. The fear that Molly’s words had stirred, the one that had been simmering beneath the surface of your relationship for as long as you could remember. You had both found each other in the ruins of what Fred’s death had left behind, but the world would never stop seeing Fred between you. You would always be her—the girl who had loved Fred, the girl who now loved his twin.

You moved closer to George, your hand slipping into his, not to pull him back to you, but to remind him that you were still there. Still with him, no matter what anyone else thought. “I see us,” you whispered, your voice steady but full of emotion. “I see what we are. And I’m not going to let anyone tell me this isn’t real.”

He turned to face you then, his eyes dark, full of conflict. “What if they’re right?” he asked, his voice softer now, a vulnerability creeping in that he rarely let show. “What if… what if this is all just… us trying to make something out of the mess Fred left behind?”

The words cut deep, because you had thought them too, late at night when everything was too quiet and your own doubts crept in. But you knew—just as he knew—that what you had wasn’t built on Fred’s memory. It was something else, something that had grown slowly between you and George, through shared pain, through shared love, but separate from what had come before.

You reached up, your fingers brushing the side of his face, feeling the tension there, the way he tried to hold himself together even as he was coming undone. “We’re not trying to make something out of Fred’s shadow,” you said quietly, but with a firmness that came from deep inside you. “We’re building something new, something that’s ours.”

George closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch as if he needed the reassurance, the grounding. His breath was shaky, and when he opened his eyes again, there was something raw there, something broken but healing. “I don’t know how to let them see that,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I don’t know how to make them see me without seeing Fred.”

His words hung in the cold night air, full of the guilt and the love he carried in equal measure. And you understood. You understood because it wasn’t just his burden to bear. It was yours too. You loved Fred, and you loved George, but they were not the same. And yet, convincing the world of that felt impossible.

“You don’t have to make them see anything,” you said softly, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. “You just have to live it. We both do.”

George’s eyes searched yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you, standing on the edge of something neither of you could fully explain, but both of you were ready to face. Together.

“What if they never accept it?” he asked, his voice a soft whisper, full of doubt but also hope.

You smiled, a small, quiet smile, and shook your head. “Then we keep living anyway.”

And with those words, the weight of Molly’s accusations, of the world’s expectations, seemed to ease—just a little. It wasn’t gone, but it was no longer suffocating. Because in the end, it wasn’t about anyone else. It was about you and George.

George let out a slow breath, his hand sliding around your waist, pulling you closer, his forehead resting against yours. The tension that had been weighing down on him began to ease, and there was a quiet release in the way he held you, as if finally letting go of something too heavy to carry.

“So you love me, huh?” he whispered, his voice hoarse, full of everything he couldn’t quite say, but there was a lightness there now—something softer, more familiar. The darkness of the night, the weight of Molly’s words, seemed to fade just a little in that moment, and you could hear the playfulness threading through his question. It was the first time all night you had heard it, that quiet spark of the George you knew was still there beneath the surface.

You felt your chest tighten slightly—you hadn’t said it before. The weight of those words, of the truth behind them, had been sitting in your chest for so long, and now that you’d let them out, there was no going back. You hadn’t told George that you loved him yet, not like this, not with the rawness of it so exposed. You’d felt it, every day, but saying it aloud was different. It made it real, undeniable. And for the first time, you felt the vulnerability that came with it.

You smiled, a small, soft smile, and you leaned in just enough to brush your nose against his. “I do,” you whispered back, the words easy, natural, even though they felt so much bigger. “And don’t pretend you didn’t already know that.”

His lips twitched into a half-smile, something mischievous flickering in his eyes as he looked at you. “Well, it’s nice to hear it said out loud,” he murmured, his voice rough but teasing, the warmth of it wrapping around you like a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. “You know, just in case I wasn’t entirely sure.”

You raised an eyebrow, playing along, the weight of the night beginning to lift as you felt the familiar tug of his humor. “Oh, you weren’t sure? Should I say it again, then?” Your fingers traced lightly over his jaw, your voice turning playful. “Or maybe I should just make it more obvious.”

George’s eyes darkened slightly, his hand tightening around your waist, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you. His forehead stayed pressed against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he whispered, “I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

You laughed softly, the sound breaking through the stillness of the night, and for the first time since leaving the Burrow, you felt lighter, the tension that had gripped both of you finally loosening its hold. “I love you,” you said quietly, the words a little softer, a little more serious now, but with a warmth that ran deep. “I love you, George. And I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes softened at that, the playful edge fading just a little as something more vulnerable flickered in his gaze. “Good,” he whispered, his voice low, almost tender. “Because I don’t think I could do this without you.”

You tilted your head slightly, your fingers still tracing the line of his jaw. “You won’t have to.”

The words hung between you, quiet but certain, and for a moment, the world felt still again, the weight of the future, of the questions still left unanswered, all falling away. It was just you and George, standing under the stars at the edge of the ocean, with Shell Cottage behind you, the waves lapping softly against the shore, their rhythm calming in the stillness of the night.

George's lips twitched again, this time into a full smile, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me if I love you too?” His eyebrows lifted, that familiar spark in his eyes returning in full force. “Or am I just supposed to let you carry this all on your own?”

You felt yourself laughing again, warmth spreading through your chest, easing away the tension that had clung to both of you all night. “Go on then,” you teased, nudging him gently. “Say it. I’m waiting.”

George’s smile softened, and for a moment, the playfulness faded into something real, something raw. He leaned in, his breath warm against your skin, his lips brushing just against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice low but filled with certainty. “And I’m not going anywhere either.”

You closed your eyes for a brief second, letting those words settle over you, and then pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. “Good,” you murmured, a small smile playing on your lips. “Because I might just need to hear that again, too.”

George let out a quiet chuckle, pulling you even closer, his arms tightening around your waist as he pressed his lips to your forehead. “I’ll remind you as many times as you need,” he whispered softly against your skin. “Because I’m not letting you forget.”

And with that, standing by the edge of the ocean, with the stars scattered above and the distant waves murmuring against the shore, the world seemed to settle into a fragile peace. The weight of everything else—the questions, the uncertainty—fell away, leaving just you and George, wrapped in something that was yours and yours alone. No, George had never been Fred, and he would never be anything other than exactly who he was. His own. Yours

[kamiversee]

KAMMMIIIIII that last chapter was AMAZING (also yes the theories on sukuna blackmailing gojo were RIGHT RAAAAAHH)!!!! ok ok ok so here’s the parallels/new info we’ve got so far:

- this is why gojo HATES when the reader calls herself a whore (esp thinking about after she hooks up w sukuna and gojo is driving her and he gets MAD about it)

- this is also why gojo insists on making her hate him bc he knows that’s the whole point, he knows he’s not completely clear of his obsession but he finally understands that what he did was wrong and he can’t let her love him in the way he wants

- YES the stuff abt choso being on there bc sukuna knew she would have feelings for him!!! im still a firm believer that it’s bc sukuna feels bad about what happened w choso and wants to make it up to him in some way but idk if we’ll get to see that through

- ALSO a few sukuna thoughts: sooooo was he being stalked by his ex, the one he ended up hitting? bc he talks about being afraid, and the whole “never let a woman take away what makes you a man” thing could be because he was scared by the situation? idk that just felt too personal

- i also don’t think we ever found out who actually hurt sukuna the night of his party and gave him that bruise (i thought you said at one point that it wasn’t gojo but tbh my brain is a little mushy so that might be wrong), i don’t have many theories on that one just yet but we will be cooking hmmm

- i’ve been SAYIN it but like yes what gojo did was bad. full stop. but! he also really did seem to grow throughout TFL and the idea of him being blackmailed by sukuna makes him much much more sympathetic!!! like he knows you don’t have a job so he comes up w the idea to pay you, he keeps pushing you away bc he knows you shouldn’t love him, ugh just makes my heart hurt for this poor man

- also ….hot take incoming…..but idk that sukuna is as bad as we thought. like rn he’s just trying to protect the reader from what he sees as creepy ass behavior from gojo, presumably he’s had something similar happen, and like yes bro thrives on chaos and wants to hurt us but not just for the purpose of causing pain to a stranger but specifically to punish gojo; idk i’m not here to debate intentions vs actions vs consequences but it’s not like he just did this for laughs he really is trying to make gojo hurt and clearly he has some emotions tied up in this too

- ok rereading that last paragraph idk lmao like bro still (presumably) hits yuji bc gojo also mentions bruises idk idk idk don’t come for me

- something else that stuck out to me that i haven’t been able to stop thinking abt is that in the TFL extra on reader’s wedding night w choso, it’s mentioned that sukuna gives up custody of yuji the same night gojo reveals everything (i think tbh it’s been a min since i read it), but like….why? (i think) that extra was canon and it almost feels like too much of a coincidence but maybe it just is ????? someone else who has better thoughts than i do please share hahahahaha

PHEW this got long but i just had to type it out after all our theories have been coming for so long it’s so exciting to see everything start falling into place!!!! i can’t wait to get back to the run in w sukuna at the gas station AHH i have a feeling bro is about to blow shit up and i cannot wait!!!!

- 🩷

WOOHOOO YAP SESSION

Glad you enjoyed it my love!!! I shall disagree/agree paragraph by paragraph so lets get to unpacking :P

1. Yes! Sukuna was the first and only person Gojo’s ever heard call her such a thing so when the term is later used by the reader herself, it triggers him all over again :)

2. Yes yes yes yes!! This is exactly why Gojo kept telling her that love between them is “forbidden” and why he’d compare it to being a “crime”. You can also see how as tfl goes on, his obsession returns due to him being so close with the reader and finally experiencing her just as he’d always longed to.

3. Mhm! Sukuna is quite the mastermind :3

4. This Sukuna thought is on the right track to say the very least & avoid further spoilers! ^.^

5. Gojo was not the person to hit Sukuna that time!

6. YES I CANT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. I know he’s bad terrible etc BUT, Gojo does do exactly as he always said he would & changes for the reader to become deserving of her whilst also telling her she cannot be with him… I’d also like to point out how a lot of Gojo girlies said they would’ve picked him right then and there after his confessions but I wonder how they feel now knowing that Gojo would’ve almost never told them about his past actions 🤔

7. Sukuna is… Well, let me say this, there are no true villains nor hero’s in tfl or ftl. No one is completely good & no one is completely bad, both stories are just messy tales of humans figuring life out.

8. Well, Gojo did mention bruises but that is before tfl takes place so we don’t know when exactly Sukuna’s domestic violence stops…

9. Think about two things here— One, Sukuna mentions that the reader deserves some form of happiness out of her, a feeling that could’ve doubled after he experienced her for himself. Two, it’s theorized that Sukuna still wants to make things up to Choso. Similar to Gojo, Sukuna cannot undo what he’s done in the past but he can try to make amends. I hope that makes sense & helps your thoughts ^.^

Im happy to see u excited about this!!! I was excited planning this & writing this >< When we circle back to the gas station & enter the sequel… things will indeed be insane. 🙂‍↕️

[only-lonely-stars]

Hair As Gold As Straw (Chapter 4 - Entry to the Mountain)

[Prologue] // [Chapter 3 of 9] // [Chapter 4 of 9 - you are here!] // [Chapter 5 of 9] – (FFN) (AO3)

Part of the @ninjago-fairy-tale-au!

Summary:

Once upon a time, Princess Vania of Shintaro lived in an ivory castle in an ivory city. Her father, King Vangelis, kept her safe in her tower, where no one could hurt her and she could not hurt herself... until the day when she ran away. A Colania Snow White retelling.

Chapter summary:

Who knew that Prince Charming was just... a man? Can he manage a task that others have already failed?

For a time after the three adventurers were sent below the city of Shintaro, there was no news. Their visit was forgotten as monotony set in, cushioned by the luxury of the ivory city. The people lived their lives without ever knowing of the adventurers' fate, Hailmar assumed his poorer role, and the king stewed. He sent no more guards below, instead choosing to wait for the next adventurer to come.

One evening, however, the monotony was broken.

A figure dressed in black and armored with gold entered the city. His face was masked so only his dark eyes were visible, and on his back he carried a shining golden scythe. He moved with purpose, treading the ivory flagstone streets toward the castle, the sun to his back. Every eye turned to him, and he in turn looked at the city's opulence with appreciation.

At last, he came to the castle gates, and he rapped on them loudly.

"Let me speak to the king! I'm here to answer his summons!"

-----

The king welcomed the stranger in his throne room like he had welcomed the previous three.

"Welcome, stranger, to the city of Shintaro. What is your purpose here?"

The black-clad man bowed. "I'm here to save your daughter, your Highness. I heard about your request."

The king nodded. "Very well. Please, take off your hood so I may see your face. Tell me who you are."

The stranger did so, revealing black hair and tan skin, which shone in contrast to his golden armor.

"My name is Cole," he said. He stood tall with an imposing presence.

"Are you seeking a reward?"

"Not really. Getting your daughter back is just the right thing to do," he said with a smile.

The king nodded amenably. "You are the first to come with such noble intentions, but rest assured that you will be rewarded handsomely." He came to stand before Cole and put a hand on his shoulder, almost fatherly. "Tell me, Cole. Are you the sort of man who cannot stay in one place?"

"That depends on what you mean. I haven't stayed anywhere long since I left my father's house."

"Then let me amend my question. Do you believe in the value of having a home?"

"Of course."

"Then I am sure you understand why I am so anxious to have my daughter returned to me." The king stepped away from him. "All others who have tried to rescue my daughter have failed. To aid your journey, I will give you a valuable artifact."

The king reached behind his throne and retrieved a wooden box. He opened it and took out a mirror, putting the box back. He put it in Cole's hands, and its silver frame felt frozen in his hands.

"This mirror will show you my daughter, to guide you around the dangerous pitfalls below. All you must do is ask it to show you. Use it wisely."

Cole accepted it hesitantly. "Thank you." He put it in a pouch on his belt. "I will bring your daughter home, no matter what."

"I am sure you will. When you do, I would like to propose an arrangement."

"What would that be?"

"When you bring my daughter home, you may have her hand. She is intelligent, but unfit to rule, like many royal women tend to be. She will need a strong husband to guide Shintaro– a man of action and of courage."

Cole hesitated. "You want me to marry your daughter?"

"When you bring her back, if you will have her. It is a fitting reward."

Cole stepped back, shaking his head. "No, your highness. It's a flattering offer, but I just want her to be home and safe. That's enough for me."

"Are you certain?" Vangelis asked pointedly.

"Yes. I don't want to be tied down, and she deserves a chance to be independent."

The king hummed noncommittally. "Very well. Regardless, you will be well rewarded. For tonight, rest yourself, so you may make the hard journey."

That night, Cole rested fitfully. He dreamt of his father, of bones, and of captivity. He woke several times, imagining he was locked in his room, but found nothing. Regardless, in the morning he awoke and prepared for his venture below the mountain.

-----

Cole steeled himself against the cold as he entered the mines. Behind him, two of the king's guards re-fastened the gate, blocking any unlikely Shintaran entry and likewise closing him in. He took one look behind before turning to the dark and raising his torch.

The cold and dark of the tunnels enclosed upon Cole, but he walked forward anyway. He did not fear the mountain nor the dark– instead, he forged ahead, feeling in every way like he was coming closer to what he sought. Into the blackness and dark, every guideless step took him deeper, farther from all company.

Eventually, he came across a fork in the path. The tunnels were identical, both stretching into faraway blackness. For a time, he thought about he paths, trying to choose one to take.

After some consideration, he reached into his pouch and brought out the mirror. It felt warmer than it had previously, but it unnerved him. Regardless, he gathered his courage and spoke to it as the king had instructed him.

"Show me the princess."

The mirror glowed a fluorescent green, which faded into an image of Vania, hefting a pickaxe. In bemusement, he watched as she dug, speaking to someone he could not view as she did so. Above her, stalactites glowed and shined with moss and gems. Slowly, the image disappeared, leaving nothing but Cole's reflection behind.

With more questions than answers, he stowed the mirror away, resolving himself to find her once again. He looked between the two identical tunnels, having no more guidance than before he used the mirror. He turned to the tunnel on the right and began to walk again.

While he walked, the knight was engulfed with memories, if only to break the monotony of his trek. He thought of his mother, whom he had lost, and her last words to him. His father, grieving and sinking into his work, had sent Cole away to a faraway school. Cole had left that school as quickly as he came and found a master to teach him his ways, learning all the things his father would never teach him. Then still a boy, he had learned all the ways of chivalry and stealth his master would teach, achieving greater things than those which his father dreamt for him.

Continuing on, Cole thought of the places he had lived and learned since his master's tutelage and of his aimless travels. In his mind's eye, they were as vivid as when he had lived those days, with blazing sun and burning sand. As he was preoccupied with his reminiscence, he did not see how the ground opened up in the middle of a passageway, and stepped in.

Cole stumbled and fell into the hole. He cried out, trowing out his arms to grasp anything that would keep him from falling, but felt nothing. His yells echoed through the tunnels, the sound of air rushing past his ears deafening. Just as he re-oriented himself, he winced as he hit against something elastic which bent and snapped beneath him. He hit another and another, each reaching the same fate, before he finally fell against one that did not snap.

Cole laid on his back, catching his breath. He opened his eyes to see a high stone ceiling riddled with webs in every crevice, blanketing it in enough white to turn it a faint gray. After a few moments, he looked around and was filled with dread, seeing an enormous web beneath him and multiple bodies and skeletons. Some were webbed up, like they were trapped by spiders, while others were simply stuck to the strands and stared off into oblivion.

Cole struggled against the web's stickiness, trying to pull himself free. It clung to him with surprising strength, restricting all movement. Finally, he managed to sit up so he could look around, only to see a spider the size of a large boulder sleeping on edge of the web.

The spider was the largest creature the knight had ever seen. It was hideous, having large mandibles and teeth, as well as many closed eyes. Its legs were long and jointed, tipped with blade-like ends. Its enormous thorax rested against the cave wall, showing off fearsome markings. Beneath its body ran a line that went under Cole, which made him wonder why it did not awake from his fall. However, he disregarded that fact in lieu of the current issue; freeing himself.

Cole slowly pulled himself free of the adhesive, grimacing at the disgusting feeling of it pulling at his clothes and armor. Slowly he pried himself away. He searched for a suitable, non-sticky place to stand, but was unsuccessful. In exasperation, he resolved to slowly walk off the web into a corridor near one side.

The corridor was bedecked in webs, but Cole entered it anyway, feeling braver once he touched solid ground as he always did. He walked carefully, looking for holes and webs, but found none to trip him. An opening came up, and he passed through it to find a smaller, less-webbed cave. Inside this cave was another sleeping spider, but it was much smaller than the other. Its marking were purple to the other's gray-black, its legs were much shorter, and it had strange white markings on its head. It sat in the middle of the web, but that was also different. Cole noted that it lacked the bodies and bones of the previous.

Cole sighed and examined his surroundings, looking for another exit besides the tall ceiling above the spider's nest. He could not turn back, nor could he scale the smooth walls. However, just past the web was another corridor, which was much less webbed than the one he had just come through. It was doubtlessly the best option, if not for the fact that it required passage over the web in order to access it.

The knight pulled his hood over his head, determined to be stealthy. The skills he had learned from his old master served him well as he crept across the web, approaching the spider. Halfway across, however, his foot slipped on a non-sticky thread, and he fell.

The spider started away and looked around frantically, searching for the intruder. Cole laid still as it relaxed and then spotted him. The spider seemed startled, as it jumped away from him and skittered to the edge of the web. Cole pushed himself up as best he could, fighting the stickiness as he reached for his scythe. The spider, to its credit, backed away. It held up its two front legs, as if to show its innocence, before shooting a web upwards and pulling itself away from Cole's reach.

Cole watched it ascend. The spider, for whatever reason, did not want to hurt him. All around him were discarded web wrappings, as if they had once encased creatures which the spider had preyed upon, but there was no evidence of any human death. The thought of safety from the spider eating him was comforting, but he did not stay; instead, he moved as quickly as he could and left the cave, watching his back. He kept moving, trying to find his way back to larger caverns.

-----

Hours after his altercation with the spider, Cole was only marginally successful in finding the princess. Once or twice he had spotted the luminescent moss, living on cave walls or stalactites, but it was never the surroundings he had seen in the mirror. Eventually, he tried the tool again.

"Show me the way to the princess."

The mirror glowed much like before, and gave him a new picture. In it, strange teal creatures fought in a room with a long and low wooden table. It was a banquet table, the size of which he had never seen. The creatures shouted silently and threw things, hitting each other with clubs. A wooden throne was at one end of the room, and a female creature of their kind sat in it, looking bored. She spoke inaudibly to someone next to her, looking bored. Just as she got up to shout at the other creatures, the image faded, and Cole saw his reflection again. He put the mirror away.

The way seemed obvious enough; find the creatures and the moss, and the princess would be there. He resolved once again to find her and bring her home, and set off through the tunnels.

-----

Another hour passed, and Cole found himself once again at the fork in the tunnels that he had reached earlier that day. By all estimation, it was likely afternoon or evening outside the mountain, but he did not stop to rest. Instead, he took the other path at the fork and continued walking.

After only a few minutes, Cole knew that he was on the right track. The moss showed up in little patches and only glowed faintly, but it was still what he had seen. He followed its trail and eventually came upon a door set into the wall. He slipped inside and found a large cavern, filled with mud and stone buildings that lined the walls all the way to the ceiling. Tools and weapons were everywhere, as were bones and dirt, giving the place a feeling of messiness. Cole found it almost comforting as he snuck through it.

Eventually, he found a group of the teal creatures. One was talking to a few others and hefting a pickaxe. It acted as if it was telling them a story, and as he crept closer he caught a few words.

"Then it was urgh, and I did agh, and the rocks fell! Many gems behind."

"Many gems, but Mimble still have more," another said.

"No, Molt does!" a third replied, hitting the second on the head with a club. "Molt have all the gems Munce need today."

Cole's foot hit a bone, and it clattered against the ground. The creatures turned and looked at him.

"Another from above the mountain!" one said. "Like Korgran!"

Cole looked at him warily. "Who are you?"

"I am Murt! Best miner of the Munce." The creature looked proud.

"I'm Cole. Have you seen a girl anywhere? Pale skin, yellow hair?"

The creatures muttered to themselves. "Why ask?"

"I'm looking for her. She needs to come home."

"She is no Munce. She is not here," Murt said.

"You're called Munce?"

"Yes. Better than the nasty Geckles!" Murt cried.

His friend elbowed him. "They are not nasty, Murt. Mimble knows."

"Right," Cole said. "Do you know where she is?"

"We can not tell you," Mimble said. "She does not want to leave."

"Why not?" Cole asked.

Mimble shied away like he had said too much. "No telling. You find no help from Munce."

"You won't tell me where she is?"

"No. Munce no help."

Cole sighed. "All right. That's fine." He turned to leave them behind and spotted a pair of tall doors. "Where do those go?"

Murt put a hand on his shoulder. "We no go there. That is the way to Geckle caverns."

"I'll take my chances." Cole went to them and pushed them open, slipping through and closing them quietly as the three Munce protested. The passageway had many more stalactites covered in moss, and he looked up at them, as if they showed the way. Sure enough, at the end of the tunnel was another pair of doors, which were closing. As he approached he spotted a flash of white, as pale as the princess, in the doorway.

"Princess Vania?" he called. The door shut hastily with a resounding thud.

"Princess Vania, wait!"

[jessthetea]

If he’s the one liking her post, it doesn’t mean that they are still together. He still likes posts from his ex and I do think that he doesn’t want any speculation about it either, so we cannot be 100% sure, but I think that him liking her post does not mean that they are still together.

That is true that he does follow one of his exes and likes her posts and that we cannot be 100% sure but at the same time, let’s think about it. Why now liking a post from her after not acknowledging her and ignoring her on social media for almost 6 months? Why wait three days after her post and two days after his post about honesty on Halloween (a day after Halloween mind you) to just like it especially since he knew Liam? Why not comment on it and why didn’t he make a post of his own ( although I do understand people have their way of grieving/don’t like to post) You cannot tell me that he didn’t see her post the day of because Jamie lurks online all the time, because the day she posted that and his post the next morning is too perfectly timed. So it really would not make sense for him to wait nearly 4 days to like her post to me. We also have to remember that one time when she had posted a snowboarding video, and Jamie only liked it, and then two or three days later I believe “he came back and commented” and the comment doesn’t even sound like something he would say meaning that she’s the one that left the comment especially since she did it when he was filming ST like he is doing now. So it wouldn’t surprise me if she somehow got into his account and left a like because just like the other admin said she saw his tweet freaked out and liked her post from his account. This is the same woman who sent old pictures of him and her at the airport like they’re new to try to debunk the breakup rumors as well (Who else would have those photos? ) so we cannot put it past her. Now whether they still being together or not, from Jamie’s actions and Jess’s constant failed attempts, nine times out of ten they are not together hopefully. Something is definitely going on as to probably why Jamie can’t publicly announce the break up yet and it has Jess written all over it and it’s frustrating but yes without proof, we don’t know until something else happens. But that sudden like to her post is very sketchy.

[finalfrontierpublishing]

Hello! I hope your day/night is going well! I just wanted to ask if you had a list of links of all the 00Q fics you've made into a book? Specifically, the latest one with All In Green? (I looked for it on AO3 and saw it's only 15k+ words, so I wasn't sure if I was missing the rest of it or if there are other works included?) It's just I read Oh Mercy, I Implore because I saw your book version and it was seriously one of the best fics I've read so I'm super keen to see what else you have on your rec list for my hungry 00Q heart 🥹

FIC REC TIME!

Oh boy - thank you so much for your ask! It kind of made me look through my entire list of favourite 00q fics - let me start first by sharing some of the authors I love. it's obviously not an exhaustive list - but i hope it helps you some:

some great writers that i am huge fans of:

dhampir72 @dhampir72 skylights @frijae blackidyll @blackidyll winterhill magneticwave cicer @cicerfics thestalwartheart @thestalwartheart girlbookwrm @girlbookwrm dr_girlfriend @drgrlfriend by_oaks_and_roses @byoaksandroses sleeponrooftops @sleeponrooftops

will strongly recommend everything on these authors' backlists!

other than what i've publicly mentioned i've bound, here are some of my favourites which include:

this city, oh how it sings - skylights

Q allows himself the indulgence of a smile and the next taxi that idles up to them, he flags down. “Peak Road,” he tells the driver. To Bond, “Get in.” This is Hong Kong, and they’re here to kill a man.

this fic is so atmospheric to me as a member of the Asian diaspora and i love it so much.

2. Requiem for the Deathless - nagapdragon

It's MI6's best kept secret, the reason why the Double-0s never seem to die. An enchanted pot of ink that ties one person's life to another, keeping one safe so long as the other survives. One person to protect, the most trusted person in a Double-0's life, and they cannot die. James Bond doesn't know who his is, and he doesn't want to know.

this fic feels like a cool take on a soulmate AU but not quite - it's such a unique and interesting concept and the characterisation is perfect!

3. the places you leave in the dust - thestalwartheart

SPECTRE fix-it where Q deals with the professional and personal consequences of Bond leaving. Continues on to explore the impact of Bond's actions on their relationship.

this series is still ongoing but it really hits a chord in my heart. everything about this fic feels so real, and it made me think about what the true consequences of Bond leaving would be, compared to the usual handwave-y 'it's all fine' most movies adopt. I loved this so much, and I strongly recommend everything on thestalwartheart's backlist!

4. the warmth of your doorways - cicer

James stared gloomily at his papers. "I suppose you could marry me,” Q added, “if you're that desperate to do away with the forms. Otherwise, I'm afraid you'll have to fill them all out." His voice was rich with amusement. Clearly Q thought this was quite a joke. But James paused. He tilted his head. Then he set his pen down. Q tapped away at his keyboard for a bit, then looked up. He promptly blanched. "Oh, good lord. You're not serious, are you?" "It would be convenient." (In which James Bond is a middle-aged spy with a highly adventurous career and promiscuous lifestyle…who kind of wants to settle down, get married, and enjoy a stupidly domestic lifestyle in between missions. Now what?)

As an ace-spectrum person - I absolutely love all of their fics. Connection to me is so important and the slow build and burn of it - ack, it gets to me. This series is also on-going and i'm excitedly waiting for its completion.

Hope this list helps and happy reading!

[oogaboogaspookyman]

[IT'S A ME]

.

.

.

.

[1]

It's been decades since i have seen another mortal soul in front of me

My head had deteriorated alongside with the land, i feel like i died

*ya no wonder you look like a creep don't fuckin' touch Gf she's taken and doesn't accept absolute horrid creatures like you mfer*

[2]

Decades trapped inside this MOTHERFUCKING CONSOLE

Everything around me fell apart just like my brain, Super Mario is now no more

*dayum yeah that be rough but did i ask? Fucker?*

(I HAD DECAYED)

[3]

No turning back now, the damage is done

Let's see if you'd like it if i were to pull you apart too!

*yeah you a bitch fuck off go bother someone else, sonic.exe wannabe I AM GOD head ass bitchass dumbass stupid ass goofyass no bitches having ass*

[4]

I'm gonna have a lotta fun tearing you apart, inch by agonizing inch!

The both of you are gonna be my playthings 'till the very end!

*what did i fuckin' say. EXEs never change, it's all the same damn thing y'know, so cheesy it's even funny man shut up*

[5]

It's-a me, just Super Mario in the flesh!

This old plumber is gonna shove your innards inside a pipe, they'll never find your body before you rot!

*yeah yeah same ol' same ol' bs shut yo ass up you're annoying*

(you're gonna rot inside the pipes, and nobody will ever tell you're GONE)

[6]

It's been decades since i had seen another human being in my now godly presence

My humanity had become naught but a faint memory in the depths of my subconcious

Do you know the feeling of your soul watching your own body rotting and fading away, so powerless?

*don't fuckin' trauma dump on me you bitch fuck you, dipshit*

(ME, I HAVE DIED)

(YET, I CAN BREATHE)

[7]

Kill you

I'll kill you, rip you up into little pieces

Eat your remains, your innards, you're gonna die!

*🖕😐🖕* (AUTHOR'S NOTE: wHEEZE-)

[8]

Decades trapped inside this stupid fucking console, left to ROT

I WATCHED MY OWN BODY DIE WITH MY OWN EYES

*yeah that's definetly traumatic but did i fuckin' ask* (author's note: MAN FUCK OFF)

(YOU'RE GONNA DIE LIKE I HAVE BEFORE)

[9]

LET'S NOT WASTE ANY MORE TIME

I'M ABOUT TO RIP OUT YOUR SPINE

YOUR SOUL WILL BELONG TO ME

YOUR FLESH WILL BE ALL MINE TO EAT

NOW THE BOTH OF YOU WILL BE MY PLAYTHINGS

YOUR FATE WAS SET IN MOTION THE MOMENT YOU LAID YOUR EYES ON THE CARTRIDGE

YOU CANNOT ESCAPE THE HELL YOU'VE UNLEASHED UPON YOURSELF

*oh no the track just became even more of a banger oh nooo this means bad things are gonna happen whatever will i doooooo fuck you*

[10]

NOW, LET'S SET THIS SHIT STRAIGHT, PLAY OUR ONE THRILLING GAME

LET'S PLAY TAG, SEE IF YOU CAN OUTRUN MY KNIFE, LITTLE BLUEBALLS BOY

*okay- out of character here- i love how i'm so like "man shut yo bitchass up i don't want no killer Mario tryna ruin my day fuck you" meanwhile for some reason Bf is canonically afraid for his life and his Gf's safety like- YOU'VE BEEN HERE BEFORE AND YOU SURVIVED BECAUSE THEY WERE FUCKING STUPID AS SHIT MY GUY oh wait good part incoming hol' up*

(GO ON)

(RUN OFF)

(TRY ME)

[11]

GO AHEAD AND TRY, RUN FROM ME AND DELAY THE INEVITABLE, SEE IF IT DOES YOU ANY GOOD, KEEP YOUR SOUL AWAY FROM ME

[12]

THE FLAMES OF MY HELLHOLE WILL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE BEFORE YOU EVEN SET FOOT IN YOUR MORTAL REALM

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FUCK WITH THE WRONG FORCES OUTSIDE OF YOUR CONTROL

NOW YOU WILL PAY

*OOOHHHH*

*oh yo this is actually awesome hold ON YO*

*YOOOOO*

(IT'S-A ME, JUST SUPER MARIO, ABOUT TO SHOW YOU THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR ACTIONS)

[WE'RE GONNA HAVE SO MUCH FUN]

[JUST ME AND YOU]

[persicipen]

Manu, i do agree with you regarding the new archon quests. The quality and pacing of the quests have dropped (still not as good as sumeru or fontain) act 3 was pretty dragged out, and then the massive lore drops in act 4 and then everything that happened later. It was either too slow or too much.

I should've played it over several sittings but i did whole thing at a stretch and slept late lol just to avoid any spoilers. That's why towards the end you could say i was just waiting for it to get over.

But they gave us interesting characters who regretfully didn't get much importance, especially iansan. Even after being one of the chosen, she still didn't get the spotlight as much as the rest of them did. One more thing, i didn't expect ororon's character to be so cute 😭🤲🏻✨

Okay that's all for now (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

hiii! 😊 okay, so— i agree with you! although i must say that fontaine had similar pacing problems, but i wish NOT to go back to memories of being stuck in the fortress of meropide for almost an entire act 💀 and i will put my reply under the cut to hide spoilers because i will dive into them a bit more!

i’ve done act III through a few sittings, which is unusual of me lol but even then it’s simply boring most of the time. i’m lucky enough to like citlali, but i cannot imagine how tiresome it must’ve been for someone who doesn’t like her. don’t get me wrong, she was saying many interesting and important things! but besides her relationship with ororon and knowledge about ley lines, her personal struggles and then bickering with younger characters could’ve been saved for epilogue. i wouldn’t mind exploring her mindset more after everything settled down, but her antics turned repetitive after some time, and i was really fidgeting for some action or just a break to process the dialogues.

i loved ororon’s character development! yes, he’s very cute, but also his story was nicely shown, and it felt good to see him receive an ancient name! in my opinion, chasca and ororon had the best scenes. a very good mix of presenting their personalities, mentions of their upbringing and family issues, overcoming their insecurities — and it all didn’t take too much or too little time.

but, lawddd, why are they treating iansan like that? she’s been with us since teyvat chapter storyline preview! we barely know anything about her. she was just standing there, already with an ancient name, doing stuff. it’s not like i care about her very much either, but that’s just plain rude to ignore her like that — comparing her lines to any other hero, she’s like an npc.

actually, i feel like kinich could’ve used some more time. xilonen too. but she also had the best tribal chronicles quest out of all three, so i can let that pass because if you do it after the archon, she’ll have her moment to shine. kachina and mualani seem fine to me, having more scenes in act I and II, but now just doing things mostly in the background, but still present during crucial moments.

i really hope to dive more into traveler’s interactions with capitano and mavuika, because there’s also a little voice in my head telling me that they didn’t get enough spotlight — but given the ending of act IV and the premise of the final quest of natlan, i suppose we will get to see more of these two!

[alexa-fika]

Little Gardener's Pirate Odyssey Chapter 4

A/N Okay . I will be the first to admit this one is. kinda meh, but it is. a filler that I needed to add to tie a few knots from the last chapter and to better connect with the following chapters

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

“So I guess her powers were always there inside of her; they just.. Needed to be awoken.” He glances back down at Alex and rubs her back gently and softly, keeping her close as she sleeps.

“Ah, there’s one thing you should be aware of.”

“And that is?” He says, glancing up at Viridi, his expression of surprise and curiosity growing as if he’s eager to hear this final piece of information.

“Because of her dark and grime origins, Alexandra has developed quite the fear of stars, so do tread carefully on starry nights.”

“I see,” he says, understanding.

“Alright, so I should avoid bringing her outside on nights with many stars, is that right? Anything else you wanted me to know?”

She shakes her head.

“I’m sure you have noticed quite a few of her quirks already, and I’m sure you will have time to know the rest, as I’m sure she will want to stick in this world for a while to have adventures. “

“Alright,” he says, seeming to be in agreement,

“Well, I do have one last question, though, if you don’t mind?” He looks at Viridi, a small smile still playing on his lips.

“Yes?”

“Well, I was just wondering if there was anything you wanted me to do to keep her safe?” He looks down at Alexandra in his lap. He seems eager to do anything he can to help, especially if it will ensure Alex’s safety.

She shakes her head. “Now, that’s up to you to figure it out. Can’t tell you everything now, can we? I will give you a hint. However, she cannot lie, so take that as you will.”

“Mhm, okay,” he says, chuckling a bit.

“I think I can work with that.” He looks down at Alexandra again, seemingly taking in all the information he just heard,

“Of course, now let us retire for the night. im sure we have given you plenty to think about until tomorrow,”

Alright then,” he says, letting go of Alexandra and getting up to his feet, “

Well then, I’ll see you guys both tomorrow.” He gives a final smile to both Viridi and Rogue and then starts walking towards the door.

Rogue grumbles as he cuddles close to Alexandra, wrapping both of his tails around her and tucking his hooves and pas underneath him

“I still fail to see what you see in him; he could be dangerous.”

“Come on now, Rogue, we can’t isolate her. Let her have some other connections; we’ll be with her every step of the way to protect her,” she says as she flutters in between Rogue’s antlers to settle for the night.

He rolls his eyes at this but closes them as Viridi follows his actions.

Once the ray of sunshine penetrates their room, Rogue slowly awakens, glancing at Alexandra and startling awake once he notices she’s not there.

“Oi Viridi, wake up, she’s gone!”

“Already?!” she says, shooting up.

They are both startled by a scream sounding eerily familiar and run towards the scene.

Sanji stirs awake from sleep after hearing the scream, his senses immediately on high alert. He sits up in bed, waiting for his environment to come back into focus, trying to figure out what he just heard and why someone was screaming before he realized who it was. His heart sinks as the realization starts to fully hit him of what his ears had just picked up.

Sanji quickly jumps out of bed, grabbing his clothes and dressing himself as he races towards the source of the scream, his mind rushing to figure out what’s going on to come to the worst possible conclusion. He hears Rogue’s voice yelling in anger, making his steps increase in speed as he reaches the scene.

The next chapter will be much more wholesome, and ya'll will get to see more of Alexandra's powers in action! Much more Dadji, too.

[rigil-kentauris]

URIANGER: 2,4, 7 OR 8 (whichever you prefer), 15-16-OR-17 (again, preference), 20, 23

RUBS MY GREEDY LITTLE HANDS TOGETHER HELL YEAH

urianger my beloved

okay let me go dig up my questions

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

I LOVE HIS THEE AND THOU-ING. I especially love the fact that. There's no reasons like culturally for him to be like this, most sharlayans talk normally, if not a touch more formally. he made himself like this. i adore it.

i forget here it is (if its an npc who says it or if its a lorebook thing) but i like the part where the lore says hes Like This because of all those damn prophecy tomes he was on as a little kid. so i just imagine tiny little urianger looking at Ye Old Prophies and COMMITTING. he is precious to me

Small thing: I also love his stupid two sets of goggles when in his Potato Sack era.

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

hmm... i feel like if i just sent him off on his own, he would wilt a bit. i would want to put him in something that gave him a fun, relaxing time, and think if thats to be accomplished I would have to send some of his People with him. he's been alone an awful lot and i see those as times that have also been or ended Bad. i think that might be something he dwells on.

OH I KNOW. okay weird one. but. BUT. hear me out. i would send him to Roller Coaster Tycoon. I know that's just technically just like a theme park but when i build them they are the BEST POSSIBLE THEME PARKS IN THE WORLD. if he could bring than, ryne, and gaia along, i just know he'd be really fulfilled by having a Fun Family Trip. i kind of see him as the guy who happily holds the bags and waits at the end of the ride. and i KNOW gaias got bags. also i feel like he is taking pictures and making the kids wear silly Park Gear. they go to some of the slow like Sitting and or Show type rides for him.

also if he was in RCT i could pick him up and Dangle him. not like malevolently but with the same emotion as I would have if I was Rotating Him

also also i have. forgotten everything ive ever read played or watched so im sure i have a better answer rolling around in there but alas.

7/8. What’s something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like/despise?

I don't actually know much about the fandom takes on Urianger. Most of what I see is people analyzing his actions w/ The Warriors of Darkness and in Shadowbringers, and I haven't seen it be unfair yet. I think, though, I am not deep in the Fandom.

OH you know what I do hate. Every now and again people will mishear a bit about 1.0, and start popping off about how ~~~~~~secretly~~~~ Urianger is ACTUALLY a millennial old WISE and SCHEMING IMMORTAL WIZARD~~~~~~. I cannot blame anyone for thinking that, but it drives me off the wall. hes a 29 year old weird PhD haver who went around at aetherytes and chanting his insane End Of The World prophecies, he wears EITHER potato sack OR a backless dress and the only thing he knows how to do other than is eat hot chip be bisexual and tell the most insane lies possible. actually come to think of it i feel like HE was the one who started the insane lie ' is ACTUALLY a millennial old WISE and SCHEMING IMMORTAL WIZARD' so. either that or it was a general team effort. im getting into the weeds here so i digress.

urianger is so weird. i love him.

15. What’s your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn’t matter if it’s canon or not.)

I'm on that Urianger/Than ship if the bit about the theme park didn't give me away lol. I also like Uri/Moen but if I had to pick one it would be Uri/Than. Uri/Moen makes me sad to think about...

16/17. What’s your least favorite ship for this character?

Lol I havehit up the archive for this one. I'm genuinely not sure what the most popular ships are for Uri outside of Thancred. My guess is Uri/WoL, then Moen. But lets see.

lmao i opened the ffxiv tag and the first fic is an Uri/Than fic ive been reading which YIPPE! its updated!

okay im back its all than/uri and some uri/WoL. there are other ships but i got to the point where there were so few it would feel like kicking a life-raft to mention them.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn’t matter?

I thought about this long and hard. I went at it from every logical angle. I took apart his characteristics, history, things he's done and to who. Interests, likes dislikes. I thought HARD.

I could NOT shake my immediate and initial thought of Estinien. I haven't got a stick to shake at my pile of evidence I just feel this in my heart.

I guess I was very impacted by uh... when was it. The Scions were in the Rising Stones, and Uri was mentioning he was going to get some books or something to try and share with Estinien to get to know him. It was the most endearing shit I have ever seen and it cut me to the bone. I think probably that attempt did not work but I do not care. GO FOR IT URIANGER! i also, i suppose, wonder how many friends Uri has every actively tried to make himself. like in childhood it seemed more like moenbryda Selected him, and that not many other kids liked him. his complicated history with the scions is complicated, but i think obviously he has to put in active effort to maintain those relationships (ESPECIALLY SINCE HE LOVE HOT CHIP LIES), but a lot of his character development w/ the scions seems more akin to 'hey this is the guy on our team we've known each other for like a decade so we are friends now' and less akin to 'hi my name is urianger can i show you some cool books'

its just intriguing to me why he did that. i hope so much it works out.

also come to think of it i dont know how many friends ESTINIEN have sought out of his own volition. he actively avoids aymeric half the time. orn kahi appears to have also gone the moenbryda route of Mine Now. tataru and krile had to actively hunt and Blackmail him into the scions. certainly i would call him friends with us now, and he cares a lot about alphinaud, but as far as Who Reached Out To Who, i think he is actually in the same boat as uri. huh.

vrtra, i think, is it. though i haven't had enough review time to say who lead that one.

now i want to see uri and estinien sitting silently in a room doing their own separate silent tasks (uri is reading a Tome, estinien is Caring For Weapons) SPECIFICALLY so i can caption it 'tag two blokes who do fuck all'. maybe its alisaie sneaking a bad blurry picture over her shoulder with her front camera and sending it to alphinaud.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

oh man i dont know. theres so much good ingame content and there SO MUCH GOOD ART and i do not have ANY of it tagged by character. let me go look.

OH NO I KNOW this is my favorite image of urianger of all time i want to cry every time i look at it. the fucking. expressions. i cant possibly describe in words how MUCH i feel when viewing this image. im going to pop.

[senpiecakes]

For Now, A Kaeya Fic Part 4

Notes: Sextape by Deftones

Summary: Having a heart to heart is rough when you're super sad.

Theme/s: Super Angst, some comfort, confessions, speaking your truth, kinda depressing if you think about it, heart-to-heart conversation.

Warning/s: Abandonment issues

Part/s: Part 1, Part 2, Part 2.5, Part 3, Part 4

Prequel: A Love Not Meant to Be: Kaeya

You sit at the edge of his bed, contemplating on what had happened, as you cave within yourself and hang your head low. Even with how loved you felt, how good it still feels, you can’t help but feel something aching in your chest. 

Disgust. Selfishness. 

Before, Kaeya only pressed two fingers on your back and you reluctantly fell back beside him without saying a word, waiting for the morning when you’ll see him again and go on with your day pretending like there was nothing special between you. Tonight, as you feel shame crawl up your sides, you also feel Kaeya- his hands tentatively reaching for your own. You don’t look, not yet, not until he moves and clothes you with one of his shirts and only then did you attempt to peek over your shoulder. Against the candlelight, you see his eyes fixated on your face, occasionally looking down at your body, not to stare, but to fix at the folds of his shirt. You shiver with the way he looks at you; not fueled by anything lurid or misleading. His hands were gentle, careful not to touch you lest you flinch away. It’s only by the genuine fondness he had for this person sitting beside him, and the belief that you deserve more than what those people before had shown you. Even he cannot think to compare himself to someone you deserve. Kaeya looks at your face, focusing on nothing but the way your expression softens when you see him- an action that never fails to calm his racing heart. You didn’t know how to handle this type of intimacy- the closeness that came with making love, not having sex. You weren’t used to it. It was clear that Kaeya was no longer afraid to tackle the weight of his feelings- but you were. And you selfishly wanted to push them away for the sake of your convenience- because you didn’t want to let him know how much he really meant to you.

“Kaeya…” you mumble, fighting back tears that threaten to ruin this moment. He hums and tugs at the fabric that adorns you. 

“Come,” Kaeya says. “Lay down with me for a while.” Your mind goes back to those nights when he’d ask the same thing; he’d move back to his own side of the bed and wait for you to go on your own. You stare at each other through the darkness, making an effort to outline each other in the inky shadow of the night; not truly wanting to know who was beside you even if it was him. He never tries to reach for you and neither do you. It stays that way till morning and you’d find yourself with backs turned against each other, a sense of emptiness filling your stomach when you wake. You almost decline until you glance up to see his open arms, and by instinct, you return his embrace and he pulls you in to stay in the middle of the bed with him. Wrapped in the addicting comfort of Kaeya’s arms, you tremble and hide away at the crook of his neck. You don’t know why, but this alone was enough to have you finally cry. 

“Kaeya…” you mumble and he spares no time to pull you even closer.

“Talk to me,” He says, resting his chin atop your head. 

“What’s there to talk about?” You ask. “Was it that obvious?” Kaeya chuckles and looks at you, an endearing smile on his face.

“Well, yes. You never sit on the bed like that unless there’s something wrong.”

Right. You think. This isn’t the first time I’ve been here. It’s not the first time he’s seen me like this. There’s so many things you wanted to tell him; how much he hurt you, how much you wanted him to be with you, how sorry you were for hurting him back, how you can’t make out your thoughts with words alone. You can feel Kaeya staring at you, waiting patiently and you couldn’t lift your gaze to look at him. Sounds got caught in your throat and your thoughts only jumbled with the way Kaeya’s hands soothed down your back to tell you ‘it’s okay.’ Kaeya himself was in no hurry to hear what you had to say to him after all this time. He knew that your ‘confession’ from the cathedral was just sugarcoating. He wanted to know why you left, he wanted your honesty, and at the same time he was fearful of hearing the truth. 

Soon enough, you found the strength to speak, but not the courage to look Kaeya in the eye when you said it.

“Why did you tell me we didn’t have anything going on?” You choke out. “Why? Was I that disposable?” For a brief moment, you glance up at him and immediately regret it. Kaeya’s deep blue eye filled with the sadness and regret only a broken man would have. His brow furrowed, gaze overshadowed by his hair and pretty lips contorted into a frown. You wanted nothing more than to kiss the pain away, his and yours. Slowly, you tilt your head up to see him full and now his expression has changed. 

You recognized that look; eyes soft, glossy with tears, jaw tight and sadness defined. The look of hunger and desperation from a man that always gained whatever he wanted but this instance, he could not have. You knew it all too well from the deepest parts of your memory in those nights you pushed back so long ago. Now, Kaeya came to haunt you with the same, recurring regret but only this time- you ached for it to happen. How you dreamed of hurting him with the same pain he gave you. Kaeya wasn’t the type to hunger- after all, he always got what he wanted with little effort because he always had it in him to claim what he felt was his. But this? It was surprising to say the least when you’re seeing it happen in front of you. To see Kaeya- most beloved of Mondstadt craving you, desiring for you almost, in a way that only a man in love would- was surreal. Even still, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept the truth you were running away from, the truth he already embraced the moment you said that it was nice knowing him. He looked at you like you had been the one to break him beyond recognition, and now you regret ever wanting to hurt him this way.

“To be honest, I don’t know,” Kaeya’s voice was hoarse and shaking. His breathing was ragged as if he was holding himself back. “You were never disposable, Y/N. I just didn’t have the courage to tell you how much I needed you.” Your brows furrow and you almost bite back at your words. For some reason you couldn’t accept that answer. It was incredulous to think that Kaeya of all people would need someone that badly. You should’ve just taken it as it is and kept silent. But you talked, your emotions from that day making themselves known.

“Then why do I feel like you’re still keeping me at an arm's length?” You spit out.

“Because if you’ll leave again, I don’t want it to hurt more than it should.” He says. There it was. Your breath leaves your chest and you nearly pull away but Kaeya stops you.

“So tell me, why did you feel the need to leave me like that?” He asks, his tone still so full of misery from the past. “The least you could do is to give me a reason.” 

“Well, for starters, you made me feel like I was the center of your world and then come morning and suddenly I’m just another tourist visiting Mondstadt.” You said matter of factly. “You had your way with words, I can tell you that, but it worked too well, but if you didn’t want me around by night, you should’ve just said so.”

“But what if I did?” Kaeya asks, direct and almost impatient. You raise your brows at him and scoff silently.

“Then you would’ve said it instead of circling around me like it was just a game!” Kayea purses his lips and sighs in defeat. 

“Is that all?” He asks silently. You lift your finger up at him and look down again. You gather your courage; all the words stuck in your throat, the hatred you held for the man beside you, the same hatred turning into a mournful yearning for something you could not have, all forming themselves into a sentence you couldn’t wait to hit Kaeya with.

“And,” You continue. “I hated the way you said I love you because you always sounded like you meant it,” you whisper against his chest. “And I didn’t want you to mean it because it gave me hope that what we had was real.” You hear your voice crack and then you couldn’t stop yourself from crying anymore. You wanted to cry so badly; since stepping foot in Mondstadt, since seeing Kaeya again for the first time in months, since kissing him after so long. It hurt when you had to bottle everything up, stuck in a loop of denial during your travels when you couldn't push the thought of Kaeya away. You wanted him to comfort you when you finally broke, to pull you in and lull your worries away. What happened was different; he let you cry. He didn’t pull you in nor did he hush away your tears. You were somewhat grateful at this, not wanting to be touched by him. Otherwise, you would’ve bawled till the morning came.

Kayea only touched you lightly, a reassuring palm on your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin to wipe your tears away. You stopped crying at this point, only hoping that it was Kaeya’s turn to feel the pain of what could have been. But he knows this feeling all too well- if only you knew how much he grieved over you. 

“Did you want it to be real?” Kaeya asks silently, instinctively running his hand through your hair.

“So badly.” You say without thought. Something grips at you- a sort of guilt, anger and resentment. Not at him, but at yourself for letting this situation come this far. “But not right now, Kaeya. This, whatever this is, I don’t know what to do with it. With us.”

“Why not now?” Kaeya asks, completely ignoring everything else and letting a slip of a crack in his voice. You almost didn’t want to say why, but you did.

“Because I can’t trust you anymore.” Kaeya is silent for a bit and you feel him shifting uncomfortably. Something of a sigh escapes his throat and you feel him bury himself in the familiar place of your embrace. It was your turn to comfort him now. The guilt that you feel for lying is almost overwhelming. You knew well that you had your own fair share of issues, that you cannot trust yourself to ever be that vulnerable again- but you wanted to try- you just didn’t want him to know how much you really wanted it. You almost broke when you heard Kayea speak once more.

“Please, let’s try again.” He whispers, his hands feebly gripping onto the fabric of your shirt. He wanted to argue, to be stubborn and tell you that all this time he saw what you had, that he loved what happened between you, that he would betray himself all over again if it meant he would get the chance to love you. He wanted it to hurt because Kaeya knew he would fight for you over and over again. But he didn’t have the strength to try; it might drive you away for good.

“I’ll be better for you, just please don’t leave me alone.” You don’t see Kaeya against the darkness, yet his entire being consumes you like an empty, stagnant dream. Even when you left, you were always reminded of his presence- the peace he gave you never leaving and the memories always there to haunt you. His voice, the epitome of loneliness and desperation, reaching past your own torment to remind you of those nights; the nights in which the very same voice whispered things you thought only twin flames would be able to say. So full of love, for you and you alone. The very same that you hear when lovers from ‘round the world echo their adoration for one another, wishing to yourself that it could have been him. Kaeya’s touch burns your skin raw; how you missed the grandiose simplicity of his affections. His pretty fingers blemished by the sins of his past wash over your skin as if it were the one to cleanse him of his mistakes. Kaeya worships you silently, willing himself to remember your form under his touch when nights get too lonely. Finally, his gaze was overpowering; even in the dark, you felt it linger. You remember those nights when you try to trace his outline against the shadows, wanting for him to break past the invisible barrier you built between yourself and come to hold your hand. You didn’t know it then, but he did. Kaeya always waited for you to sleep and would re-light a candle, admiring your features in the silence of the night, in the noise of his heart that thrummed at the sight of you. His fingers brush away at your hair, feeling the curve of your cheek on his knuckle, and watched as you would smile and search for the peace that was his touch. He ached in those nights he spent alone, waking in the deepest hours to looking for a semblance of your figure beside him- finding nothing but his loneliness and the useless hope that you’d be there. Now, as you watch him adore you with the same, unwavering passion as before, all that you are reminded of is a shadowy memory, and his haunting but beautiful gaze. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he says out loud. Sudden and direct. “I love you and I never stopped loving you.” Your expression contorts and you turn away, curling into a ball to avoid his reach.

“Please, don’t say that,” You exhale. “Kaeya, don’t do this to me.” Kaeya holds you and you don’t fight him, only letting his voice and his embrace cradle you through your tears. You didn’t have the strength to push him away, not with how much those words made your chest burn with agony and joy. 

“But I will, and I will never stop saying it until I convince you that I mean it.” He says. “You don’t have to say it back to me, Y/N. I’ll be fine as long as you’re here.”

Not again. You think. Not ever. You forced yourself to bite your tongue when saying those words, feeling how Kaeya’s arms wrapped around you so tightly. A part of you wanted to believe that it would be okay, that both of you can start over despite what had happened those many days and nights ago. As blissful as they were, the memories that accompanied them were almost too much to bear. You wanted to, so badly, to be with him, to be his home and solace when you both needed it. Your longing and agony further solidified when you felt Kaeya shaking; he found your silence echoing through the walls of his racing heart, strong enough to have it shatter. He wanted you to stay, he was afraid he’d lose the only home he had felt since the last time he ever knew comfort. Now, as safe as he feels, a creeping sense of despair writhed deep in the pit of Kaeya’s stomach- all because you refuse to give him an answer. What more could it bring when he hears your voice?

“I just want you to stay, for a few days, a week, even just for tonight,” Kaeya whispers. “Stay with me, Y/N.” You turn to face him and find tears staining his cheeks, a pathetic smile on his face when he sees you. Your heart breaks at the sight, and still you cannot bring yourself to say what he needs to hear from you. You couldn’t, not yet.

“For now.” You mumble, returning the same hopeful grip he has around you. There was a pause, a calm, when Kaeya’s hold lightened. He wasn’t assured nor relieved. Nevertheless, he holds you close and doesn’t do anything else.

“For now.” He echoes, waiting as you slowly drift off into sleep.

[dukeofdogs]

Master Mirror

Chest: Human oaths, lofty predictions and all these rubbish regarding destiny, both genuinely amuse and fascinate Gaunter O'Dimm. Oh, especially their Law of Surprise: "You will give me what you already have but which you do not know about yet." And they dare to describe his offers as unclear or not fair? Hilarious, really! After all, he only opens the eyes of those who wanted to look for themselves. He reveals the madness of the world around them and shows the opportunities that come with it. He navigates the paths that may happen. However, it is up to humans to choose which path they will follow. Will this beautiful woman break the word given by her late husband, or will she keep his oath? Will the warrior lie, cheat, and kill his brothers? Will the old hero save one life, letting thousands die in return? And will the young fool kill thousands to presumably save the world? It’s entirely their choice. Human traditions are almost as entertaining to O'Dimm as playing with destiny. Sometimes he even checks himself if they still follow the ancient customs. He wanders around this world, watching as peasants burn their logs for the dead or women tie red ribbons at the cradles to scare off wraiths. As a begging old man, he asks for food, and when the night of Saovine arrives, he waits for people to hide in their cottages from those that have departed this world. Seldomly, those who do not manage to hide or are too drunk for it, get the chance to meet him instead of the dreaded dead. And if they fail to comply with any of his humble requests, showing their disrespect for these ancient traditions, they will see his true face. Both monsters and non-humans appear to be resistant to Master Mirror’s influence, or at least they succumb to him less often than humans. It is difficult to say where this comes from, as they can be as greedy, envious, and stupid as any man. Does O’Dimm really have no effect on their souls? Well, it’s possible. However, it sounds too simple to be the whole truth. Looking closely, one could tell that O’Dimm interferes in the affairs of monsters or non-humans, just not directly. For instance, it is enough to subtly aid the right prince in winning the throne, to stoke the flames of hatred, and subsequently turn the lives of thousands of dryads into hell. Isn’t it?

Scroll 1: For many people, Gaunter O'Dimm is a mystery. Actually for anyone who has had the misfortune to meet him. As a rule Master Mirror doesn’t explain his provenance to anyone unless he wants his interlocutor to live a short and painful life.

Scroll 2: For those few who managed to get to know the real name of Master Mirror have long since died – or had something far worse befell them. A simple exploration of his past leads those curious to blindness, with even a short meeting in a crowd changing the fate of man forever.

Scroll 3: According to books that can be found in Oxenfurt libraries, Master Mirror is the embodiment of pure Evil, appearing for thousands of years in different cultures, under many different names. Gaunter himself considers this to be a not quite accurate and highly ignorant description of him. He only gives people what they want – he is not to blame for the fact that they want evil and wicked things.

Scroll 4: However, one cannot deny at least this: Gaunter O'Dimm is an ages-old creature. He can be found on the edges of the history pages throughout many pivotal events for the Continent. On the other hand, it is difficult to describe his actions as purely evil. Gaunter just reveals secrets selectively, not lying even a bit. He gave a kid a toy to shape his dreams or simply helped a lost man find his way. And he stayed there, hidden in the shadows, to watch what would happen next. Just for his pure amusement. Yet people often blame him for… For everything, really. It’s simply wondrous, how they’re desperate to believe that gods and other supreme beings control their lives.

[hughungrybear]

Me watching Dangerous Romance Ep. 6

1. Why do I get a feeling that Pimfah is only saying she likes Sailom to push Kang into action? Am I wishful thinking? 😭

2. I mean, we all know it's coming, but ouch! Welcome to the Friendzone, Kang 😅. Anyway, I feel like the only reason why he likes Pimfah is because their fathers are friends and Kang doesn't know any better.

3. Well, this is going to be awkward — Sailom silently supporting Kang's crush on Pimfah, Kang thinking he needs to fire Sailom as a tutor and give him away to Pimfah (as if Sailom is a toy), and Pimfah, well I still don't know what Pimfah's real deal is 😅

4. Perth playing football reminds me of Pete from Love by Chance. ☺️

5. I'm been thinking about this since the 2gether series, but why is the cheer routine for these schools basically just hand gestures? I used to to do competitive cheerdance from the age of 11 to 16 (Years 6 to 10 equiv. in Australia). Let me tell you, at the end of each practice right until the competition, my body is aching in places I never knew can feel pain lol 😅😅😅

6. So, Nava isn't a complete asshole. I guess this is the start of my GuyNava ship lol. I am really rooting for Marc and Pawin since My Gear and Your Gown did them dirty.

7. Wait, so Pimfah does like Sailom? Why? How? You two barely interacted throughout the previous episodes. WTH 😭

8. Yeah, I don't think Pimfah is talking about her bandaged ankle 😭😭😭

9. Kang, dude. I don't know how your thought process works but Sailom can reject whoever he wants to reject just because. Sailom doesn't need to list his reasons why he doesn't romantically likes Pimfah. Also, get an effing clue lol (but then again, Sailom confessed so...🤭🤭🤭)

10. Oh my lords, Sailom is eating noodles silently. In the dark. So K-Drama protagonist of him. 😅

11. After getting beaten up by loan sharks in earlier episode in their own living room, you would think Sailom (and Saifah) would learn to lock their front door 😅😅😅

12. I really, really hope Kang does not mistake his apparent genuine care for Sailom as guilt. Athough, I'm still triggered he let Sailom sleep on that sofa without a blanket.

13. Wait, Kang-Sailom-Guy is another love triangle that I do not wished for. 😭😭😭 Make it right, GMMTV.

14. There it is. Tbf, he does a lot of good things for Sailom right after he did something bad that caused trouble for Sailom in the first place.

15. Well then, ouch. Sailom, baby, let me hug you.😔😔😔

16. Uhm, Guy, now is not the time to antagonize Kang. I mean, you are teammates. Also, look at that, Sailom cannot help but to cheer for Kang.

17. Yeah, why are the teammates only cheering for Guy when Kang passed the ball? Wtf.

18. I don't know how to feel about the kiss. On one hand, it is non-consentual. On the other, this is a BL and Sailom has been pining for so long. 😐

Next episode, Kang will try to win over Sailom's friends (even Guy). I can already see Kang's jealousy from here. Oi vey.

[starrynightarchive]

🧠for Chuuya, 🛒, 🥺, and 🤯

Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them

chuuya has quite a lot of physical illnesses. that man uses corruption. what do you mean his body is in perfect condition. yes yes he's fit he's strong but that man has Issues. chronic pains. and my personal favourite: myoclonic epilepsy. fry his nerves your honour

2. What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

this is. a hard question. let me consult my friends first-

and love. so so much love. my writing is filled w love of all kinds. i specialize in platonic and familial love, if you will. and yes cyber i consulted you for your own ask. I'm not sorry <3

3. Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

yep. wait i'll show you

...yeah. you see why im in my feels? yeah.

4. What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)

hmmm action, i think. cannot describe movements without sounding repetitive. wdym i have to write fight scenes without dying (I'm exaggerating I've written them before it's just. hard to write.)