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mayhemories · 2 years ago

Note

Neteyam x readers kids to lovers eventually, before WOTW bc I carnt handle his death

Eywa, A Sign

Ohhh it kills me, I love this boy. He died for what? Pandora Jesus better resurrects him next time, or I will have words with Mr Cameron. Not sure if I did your request justice, hope I did <3

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar)

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: None? Just straight fluff. Reader is an orphan trope/parental death. Mentions of death.

Words: 1.58k

Author’s Notes: Neteyam is roughly 18/19 here, Reader is 18, Lo’ak and Kiri are 17, and my girl Tuk is still the same. Set before Way of the Water.

Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!

Read below the cut

Many Na’vi died following Toruk Macto. Either due to the impact of the battlefield violence or, their wounds upon return to their clan. Your parents, two brave Omatikaya warriors, died at the hands of the Sky People during a routine raid on supply shipments.

Jake and Neytiri were quick to take you under their care, love and protection. Practically becoming one of their own. Being a few months younger than Neteyam and a year older than the twins, Kiri and Lo’ak, you slipped right in.

Jake was never afraid to reprimand you like you were his own, either. Like the time you were twelve, Lo’ak eleven:

“Now what did I tell you two?” Jake had you and Lo’ak lined up against the wall of the clan stronghold, sprung by the Olo’eyktan from the moment you came sneaking back in after curfew.

“Don’t be in the forest after eclipse-” You and Lo’ak mumbled under your breaths, knowing that Jake wouldn’t let up.

“Yes! That’s right, don’t be in the forest after eclipse!” he said, exasperated, holding his hands above his head, dragging them down across his face. “And where were you two knuckleheads?” His face was annoyed, though his eyes were soft. We were his kids, god forbid anything happened to us.

“Look dad (y/n) had nothing to do with it, it was all me-” Lo’ak started, but you finished,

“Sir, Lo’ak didn’t want to go, I wanted to go.” You and Lo’ak shared a small smile, he was your brother, through and through.

Jake shook his head, hands on hips.

“Go, go, both of you. Wash up.” He was stern, but as you two skxawngs ran past him you saw the gentle smile lay on his lips.

As you got older you noticed Jake becoming harder and harder on his boys. For whatever reason Lo’ak almost gave up on pleasing Jake, felt like he could never be enough for him, a spec of dust compared to Neteyam’s glittering gold. Maybe that was why, why he was so impulsive and reckless, consistently. Any attention being good attention for Lo’ak. Regardless of his intentions, you liked that about him. He encourages your sense of adventure like a brother should, was always there to catch you when you fall. Neteyam and Lo’ak were different sides of the same coin, both living to please Jake in one way or another. Jake saw himself in Lo’ak and that scared him, you knew that,

But Neteyam…shit, Neteyam.

You always saw Neteyam differently. As kids, he felt too cool for you to be around. This developed over time as you, yourself developed. As you felt awkward and out of place in your body, tail giving away every thought and feeling, Neteyam got taller, got broader, got sweeter. As an awkward teenager, your little soft spot evolved into a full-blown crush. You kept it under wraps sure, Lo’ak teasing you here and there but he never thought anything serious of it. Shit, you tried not to think anything of it. He was the future Olo’eyktan, he was the future of the clan.

Now, freshly eighteen you were considered a woman: A relatively fierce Ikran rider, bow made from wood of the tree to replace the Hometree that was lost to the Sky People, a hunter. You surpassed any ritual trail of clan-life easily, save for one. Save for probably the most important one.

Finding a mate.

So, here you were, kneeling on the beautiful deep green moss surrounding the base of the Tree of Voices. The tree was glowing purple, fading to a light pink and back again, streaks of white travelled up and down the tendril of the tree, where you’ve made the bond. The hum of the ancestors created a white noise in you mind, helping to create a true vision. Praying to Eywa always gave you a sense of calm, like all anxieties were being blown right through your body, energy settling itself back into the world.

“My dear All-Mother Eywa, I come to you now for guidance, for advice.” You started, clamping your eyes shut to encourage any kind of vision, so that you may see into the realm beyond that of physical sight.

Neteyam knew it was wrong, to listen to your private prayers with Eywa. But he did not make a move to leave his advantageous spot, hidden amongst trees and rocks, he could watch you freely. His whole life felt like it revolved around you, and your alluring presence, strong heart, strong mind.

Neteyam officially became a man the year prior, it was expected of him as the future clan leader to have already chosen a woman. And, in some ways he had. It had always been you, it was always you. Neteyam loved you, and it was never as a sister as Lo’ak has. When you were children you would play family. Neteyam was the dad, you the mum, Kiri and Lo’ak the kids. Neteyam knew from a young age that he didn’t want to play family with anyone else.

He assumed Neytiri always knew, too. She never pressured him in claiming a mate, or even talking about it. Jake, well he was less switched on when it came to Neteyam’s shy nature. He was always pestering Neteyam about it-

Jake had flown Neteyam and himself to a floating mountain so that him and his first born son could speak freely: “Look, I’m not even saying you have to mate straight away! But at least court someone Neteyam, you’re the future of this clan-” Jake started, but for the first and last time in his life, Neteyam cut his father off.

“I am waiting for (y/n)!” Neteyam yelled, holding the bridge of his nose, anticipating that Jake would come back with a raised voice as he most often did. It did not come. Instead Jake closed the distance between him and his son, wrapping his arms around his beautiful baby boy, who wasn’t a baby anymore. Neteyam loosened, wrapping his still lanky arms around his father. With his chin resting on Neteyam’s head, Jake chuckled:

“Well then, wait for her as long as you need.”

“I love her.” Neteyam admitted quietly.

“I know you do, kid.”

Neteyam shook the memory from his mind, and focused back on your kneeling, praying figure in front of him.

“My mother Eywa, what am I to do?” You felt exasperated, lost. “I… I am afraid that the one I love does not love me Eywa.”

Neteyam’s chest tightened, although he always knew it was a possibility that you may not want him, he tried his hardest swaying anyone else’s decision in the matter. The glares he had sent to all the young na’vi during their teen years, and at your own ceremony of womanhood, Neteyam made it clear with growls and possessive hovering that he was waiting for you. Although, maybe he could’ve made it clearer to you.

“Great Eywa please, please show me a sign that Neteyam and I will be named mates.” you whispered, scared to admit his name in the scenario, aloud.

Neteyam felt like he could vomit. He slowly approached you, kneeling beside you, as if he were beginning to pray, himself.

You could feel his heat, his being as he sat down, you didn’t need to open your eyes to confirm. Besides that, you could feel all the blood drain from your body and rush back up to your cheeks and ears. Clearing your throat, you decided that this was a good a sign as any.

“Neteyam” You opened your eyes, his beautiful warm honey ones already locked on your face, “how much of that did you hear?”

Neteyam hung his head in shame, shaking some of his braids from their resting places, blood rushing to his cheeks.

“I am so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have listened to your private words spoken with Eywa.” Neteyam spoke softly, like he always did with you. “But I could not help it, especially knowing you have not chosen a mate yet.” Neteyam spoke around a lump in his throat, “I needed to know why.”

Your mind was rushing a million miles per minute. But fake bravado was something that Lo’ak taught you, and something you could hide behind.

“You know, you haven’t chosen anyone either. My ceremony was last week, yours was last year.” You said, catching his eye again, with a slight smile on your lips. Neteyam laughed. Shit, you loved that sound. You could die happy now, hearing his laugh.

“I have chosen,” your stomach dropped at his words, though sensing your anxiety Neteyam wove one of his hands with yours, and pinned you to the spot with his warm eyes. “I just had to wait a year for her to choose me too.”

And all at once it felt like Eywa had breathed life into you, and Neteyam. Like your soul was made of milk and honey and you were going to flow on forever.

You kissed him, your hands cupped his beautiful face, his slender fingers settling on your waist, nestling between beads and cloth.

He came out of the kiss laughing, needing air. You let out a laugh too, keeping your foreheads together.

“I see you.” You whispered, still scared that if you speak too loud this dream will dissipate into the colours of Pandora’s jungle, floating away from you entirely.

“I have only ever seen you,” Neteyam said, smiling. His silver freckles set alight from the glow of the Tree of Voices.

Happiness was simple.

#avatar twow #avatar 2022 #avatar 2009 #avatar #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #jake sully #neteyam sully fluff #loak #loak x reader #loak x reader platonic #jake sully x reader #jake sully platonic #jake sully domestic #avatar domestic

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cryptidghostgirl · 9 months ago

Note

Hey hey! i have a third angsty silly idea teehee (yes same person who requested the one where wife reader gets teleported to the hotel and the one with the fake dating trope-)

Im at it again with my silly ideas i can’t quite get out of my head- so picture this RIGHT before the begging of the second fic (loved it btw if i could id kiss you on the mouth)

(this interaction is important) Reader is eyeing Alastor to subconsciously make him talk to her, he does of course it goes a bit like “Alastor dear, havent seen you before?” "Just moved in, thought of making some acquaintances” and they talk, reader tells him “a charmer too? should be careful around you not to break my heart” or smth smilar idk i suck at dialogue

And then the partnership happens and theyve been at it for a while (like at least 5 years id say)- until Readers twin brother dies in a planned house fire and she goes out for revenge, before that they have a fight like “youre going to be out numbered” “its suicide” blah blah blah- and eventually reader goes out alone

She does manage to to kill the criminals but because of the cold January weather and the exhaustion of it all- reader gets hypothermia and in the frenzy thats caused by it stumbles and falls into a fence spike of an abandoned farmhouse, gets impaled right below the ribs teehee, Alastor eventually finding her and goes out to bury her properly.

readers death happens in 1925 -8 years before alastor which gibes her enough time to take over half the pentagram with her blizzard/ice powers (cuz i think theyre. cool ;)) and is also important reader has a long tail with fluff (which can turn into a heart shaped fur or have happy/angry twitches) at the end because i think its cute and because her demon form has one so it matches (think the faceless room guardians by anyaboz on IG but fully white- with a void face from which emerges a dog skull at will). the normal form being overall relatively normal aside from the long ears and black limbs that symbolize the hypothermia part of the death (Yes this is an Oc but im making it a bit more generic for everyone :>)

When alastor does die in 1933 (when he got shot visiting readers grave) he hears of this blizzard overlord and goes a bit into her territory and into a bar where he sees a somewhat familiar person teehee and they have the same first conversation over again but in hell :D and then get reunited but possibly pull out their signature weapons on each other again for old times sake 😇

also i love you so much for taking the time to write my dreams it does mean quite a lot to me and if you want i can give more ideas because i have a lot more- 😇 (im tottaly not insane and or delusional i swear-)

A/N of course?? I’m obsessed with your requests. they’re always so fun. Also as a heads up, I decided not to do this as a part to for cover up because I got an earlier request asking to do a part two for that and I try to address requests in the order I receive them. I also made some other minor changes just to make it work a little smoother. Also, please keep sending in requests, yours are always so fun.

Frostbite (Alastor X Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Murder, death, gore, arson, a little bit of angst.

Word Count: 3,949

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor sat at the bar of Mimzy's club drinking like he did every friday night. Normally the whirling dancers and loud music merely served to give him a headache, normally he ignored them and all the fans who somehow recognized him from the radio. Tonight was far from normal, tonight there was someone new.

Spinning on the dance floor, the fringe of her blood red dress spinning out from her legs. The woman was all smiles, all laughter, and she seemed never to turn down a partner. He watched her, entranced.

The woman wasn't a talented dancer, far from it in fact, but what she lacked in skill she made up for in enthusiasm and enjoyment. He had no intentions of doing anything other than watching her enchanting display until he made eye contact with her across the club. She blushed, turning away and quickly engaging a friend in conversation.

It was all the encouragement Alastor needed. In the dim light of the speakeasy, Alastor smiled to himself. He downed the rest of his drink and got to his feet. The crowed of dancers parted to make way for him like the red sea, waves of whispers following his path. He could hear the chatter, knew the rumors that he was a man uninterested in women, uninterested in love or romantic involvements of any type He knew that that was what everyone was speaking of as he approached the first new face the tired old place had seen in ages.

Coming to a stop behind the woman, her friend saw him first. It made sense, her back was turned to him after all, a result of her embarrassment at having been caught staring. He friend tapped her shoulder, indicating for the woman to turn around, and she spun. Alastor could feel the hem of her dress as it brushed against his leg through the fabric of his pants. His smile grew.

"Haven't seen you around here before Darling," he hummed, "new in town?"

"Just moved in, actually." the woman bashfully replied, clasping her hands behind her back and crossing one foot in front of the other.

The position it threw her body into sent Alastor's mind reeling. He hadn't expected that. Sure, she was pretty and different, new, but Alastor didn't feel things like that. At least, not normally.

"Well, I'd love to give you a tour sometime. The name is Alastor, Alastor Hartifelt."

This was the test: his name. How would she react? Was she just another one of his simpering fans, begging for his favor, for his attention, or would she do something interesting?

He held out a hand which she daintily rested her own in, a smile spreading across her face.

"Y/n L/n. I'm free tomorrow morning?"

Alastor was lucky, Saturday mornings were one of the few he had free. Gently, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand. Y/n felt her heart flutter inside her chest.

"Ah, a charmer." she hummed as Alastor raised his head again and she took her hand from his, "I'll have to be careful around you."

Everything had snowballed from there. The tour around the city had spiraled into dinner which had further fallen into an attempt by Alastor to take her life. He had been curious, how it would feel when the life drained from her body at the force of his hands. Instead, she had met his advances by holding her own knife to his throat.

It became a game of sorts for the two, always trying to outwit one another, one up each other, land the other six feet under. The game ended when Alastor was chasing Y/n through the woods and she had stumbled, falling to the ground. He had grinned maniacally as he had advanced on her, as she had scrambled on the ground away from him. Knife raised, her back against a tree, she had breathlessly asked him out on a date. How could he say no? Especially when he looked up and saw that she had planned this all along. There was no other way their initials could be carved into the surface of the very thing that had stopped her escape. It was perfect, she was perfect.

Five years of bliss. Five years of feathery kisses and passion. Five years of waking up to her smiling face, of washing the blood off each other's hands, of nearly wedded bliss. Then there had been the fire.

Y/n had a twin brother, a brute of a thing who always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Despite his flaws, Y/n loved him. This time, on a January morning in 1925, he had pissed off the wrong person and gotten himself killed. Y/n was inconsolable, spent every waking moment tracking the killer. It didn't take her long to get a lead.

She was halfway out the door when Alastor found her, shoving knives into her pockets and grabbing a gun. There was a wild, unfocused look in her eyes. Alastor turned his gaze momentarily to the setting sun as it sent rays of liquid golden light bouncing off the snow.

"Darling, what are you doing?"

"Going out." she gruffly replied, adjusting the laces on one of her shoes.

Alastor sighed. Y/n had mentioned to him just the day before that she had an idea of who was behind the murder and it wasn't pretty. The most controversial and strongest gang in the city had, according to her research, wielded the flames. Alastor took a step forward, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder and she turned to him. Her eyes were hard and narrow, her face contorted by rage.

"Y/n, please." Alastor began, treading carefully, "Not tonight. It's awful out, and you just confirmed everything today."

"No." Y/n shook her head, "No, I can't wait to do this any longer, Al. It has already been nearly a month, I can't..."

She looked away, raising a fist to her heart, her shoulders hunching slightly.

"I can't."

"And I can't loose you." Alastor quickly replied, using his free hand to turn her face back to his.

"So come with me."

He hesitated. Y/n saw the look on his face, the doubt. She shook herself from his grip, turning back to the door.

"Alright. I'll go alone."

"Y/n," Alastor pleaded, taking another step towards her as she grabbed her coat off the hook on the wall, "it is too dangerous. I can't let you do this."

"Let me do this?" Y/n spun around, her coat in her hand and flames licking at the corners of her voice, "You can't let me do this?"

Alastor took a breath, trying desperately to keep his own anger at bay.

"There are too many of them." he tried to reason with her, "You can't do it on your own."

"So come with me!"

"I..."

Y/n scoffed, sliding her jacket onto her arms. Turning back to the door once again, she unlocked it. Her hand rested on the knob, she took a breath. Their eyes met over her shoulder.

"I'll be home later."

She swung the door open and stepped out into the night. Alastor trailed after her, the snow sinking into his socks. It was cold, a terrible night.

"Y/n, you'll die!"

"Do you truly have that little faith in me!?" she spun around, her rage radiating off of her, devouring everything in sight.

Alastor had never seen her like this before. He halted in his tracks.

"Please, I can't..." he took a deep breath, emotions had always been a struggle, "I can't loose you too."

"But I'm supposed to loose my brother and know who did it and do nothing?!" she screamed back at him.

"You will die!"

Y/n turned her back on him once again. She unlatched the gate to the garden and slipped through it, letting it fall shut behind her.

"So be it."

"Y/n!"

Alastor tried to run after her but, it was simply too cold. His limbs were numb, he stumbled.

"Y/n!" he yelled again but, she didn't turn around.

He could see her, in that red dress. She looked like she did the first time he had ever met her as she disappeared into the night. He knew it was his mind playing tricks on him, it felt like an omen.

Alastor stood in the cold for a few minutes longer before resigning himself to the truth of it all: Y/n was going to do what she was going to do. He just had to hope she would come back, that the damage he had done in refusing to back her up like that wouldn't be enough to have driven her away. That she was strong enough to make it out alive.

The fireplace crackled invitingly. No matter how warm and cheerful it made the room, Alastor couldn't stop the dread. He sat down on the couch before it, painfully aware of the empty spot beside him. He tried to read.

The hours ticked by, seconds dragging on for eternity. Still, Y/n was not yet home. Alastor couldn't focus on anything. He couldn't 't read, couldn't sleep, could barely sit still. He paced circles around the room as the sun rose, he called in sick to work, intent on being there should she return.

When it reached four pm, when it had been nearly twenty full hours since she had left, he decided to go out and look for her. Y/n had always been messy, always bad at putting things away. While normally it had irritated him to no end, he now found himself grateful. He swore to whatever gods were listening that if she was alright, he would never bother her about it again because right there on top of her desk were all her plans, including the exact location of the gang's hideout, the exact place she had disappeared to.

The sight that met Alastor when he reached the old warehouse on the outskirts of the city was one he would never forget. Blood stained the snow red and there were bodies everywhere, both outside and within. It was clearly, Y/n's handiwork and he couldn't help but feel a tad impressed, he had underestimated her yet again. His slight smile, a result of the realization, fell as he spotted the footprints leading out of the backdoor.

He had tracked Y/n enough times to know they were hers, they couldn't be anyone else's. A trail of blood accompanied them, one foot dragging more than the other. Alastor tried to keep his head clear, his mind cool. He gave chase.

The back yard to the warehouse was large, gave the impression of going right off into the woods. Alastor soon realized that was not the case as the rusted, wrought iron fence came in to view. Y/n wouldn't have been able to see it. Judging by the way the tracks were iced over, it had been a long time since she had walked this path. In the dead of night, surrounded by trees, the fence would have come as a surprise.

As he got closer, the lump that he had assumed was a fallen branch came into more detail. Alastor's heart stopped, he rushed to her.

If only he hadn't waited, if only the minute he had felt she'd been gone too long he had gone after her. He might have been able to save her, to stop her from this cruel fate.

What had happened was obvious. The fence was iced over, slippery to the touch. Y/n had evidently tried to climb over it and lost her grip, the force of her fall being enough to ram the sharpened edge of one of the fence's defensive points right through her temple. Wrong place, wrong time.

Alastor had never cried like that before, as he sat in the snow at her feet, her body stiff from the cold. Not even when his mother had died could he ever remember feeling such a grief. It ate away at him, pooling in the center of his chest and spreading out. She had been so integral to who he was, so much a part of his life and way of being. She had been his dream, his end goal. Alastor remembered the ring, sitting heavy in the drawer of his night table. His tears redoubled.

By the time he managed to calm himself, the early winter sun had long since sunk to its bed and been replaced by the moon. Moving completely on autopilot, not considering his actions, Alastor wrenched her body from the fence. Y/n deserved a proper burial, in a place that mattered. He made her final resting place at the base of the very same tree she had told him she loved him while sitting at. His fingers traced their carved initials, grown hard with the years. There was nothing to be done.

The guilt ate away at him, festered over the years. If only he had stopped her, had gone with her, had come to her rescue. If only he had told her that he loved her one last time.

When Y/n awoke in Hell, to say she was surprised would be an understatement. She had never been one to believe in the afterlife in any sort of way, let alone such a wonderful one with so many opportunities for mayhem.

The thing that had been the toughest to get used to was her new form. All the demons in Hell got them upon arrival and when she caught that first glimpse of herself in the glass of a shop window, she understood why everyone on the streets seemed to be eyeing her fearfully.

She looked like she was rotting, her fingertips and toes black from the cold she had lost herself in. It trailed up her limbs, mingling with her own natural skin color. Her hair, her eye lashes, her eyebrows even, looked perpetually frosted with snow, little particles of ice hanging delicately in them. Then there were the horns and the tail, those were by far the strangest. The horns were pure white and curving like a mountain goats, the tail was thin with a little heart shaped ball of fluff at the end. It wasn't until another demon attempted to attack her that she realized the full extent of the changes that had taken place.

Y/n had just tried to punch the man, that was all. He had made advances, she had said no. He had tried again and she had told him she was married. It wasn't entirely a lie, they had been planning on it after all. Still, the man refused to listen and so, she had resorted to brute strength. When she had pulled her fist away, it was to find the man encased in ice. That was when the anger had set in.

Y/n didn't blame Alastor, not really. She was mad at him but, in the end, he had been right. She had died. It was all so brutally unfair. The way they had left things, that final fight, weighed on her soul. She wondered if he even knew she was dead, if he just assumed she had up and left him. The guilt, the what if's of it all, were crushing.

The stronger Y/n's emotions, the more uncontrollable her power. She still attacked people for fun but, taking over half of Pentagram City with her storms had honestly been an accident. In retrospect, she would call it a happy one.

Y/n liked being respected, being feared. She liked the near worship with which the smaller, weaker demons began to treat her. She settled into her new life with surprising ease and soon, every demon and hellborn in the place knew her name: Frost.

Y/n would've liked something different, preferred something cooler but, when the people give someone a name, its hard to change it and so, she embraced the title. Stone cold, cruel, powerful and appearing at what others perceived as totally inopportune moments. She locked herself, her heart, away. She swore never to make the same mistakes again.

Alastor visited Y/n's grave at least once every year. Always on the anniversary of her death, sometimes more frequently. That was where he too had met his death. As he had stooped low to place the bouquet of flowers he had brought on the surface of the hard-packed earth, the hunter had shot him, thinking he was a deer.

His arrival in Hell had been uneventful and not all together shocking. Alastor had been raised in a Christian household and although he never truly had faith in the matter once he had been old enough to form his own opinions, he had still always assumed that if there was life after death he was going to end up in Hell. He also knew that if he had ended up down here, Y/n had too.

The search was all consuming and fruitless. Every demon he interrogated, every one he thought had the slightest spark of his love within them, never had a single clue what he was talking about. Half the city was a snow storm and before long, that half was the only part he hadn't searched. Allegedly it was the territory of some new overlord known only as Frost who had taken Hell by storm - literally - just a few years before. Alastor already had a distaste in his mouth for the overlords, a sort of hatred spawned from something close to envy. He figured that worst case scenario, he could just add this Frost character to the list over overlords he had already taken out in the year since his arrival.

The chill of the air as he stepped over the border was a cruel reminder of the truth of his life. Alastor welcomed the cold with open arms, wondered if Y/n had already been killed since arriving in Hell. He had heard of the exterminations, it wasn't too wild of an idea. The thought gnawed on his mind like a parasite, intent on seeing him dead. Alastor progressed.

The fact that in death he still felt such things as hunger had been a mystery to him. There was something poetic about it, something forlorn in the idea that hunger and touch were the only things that followed a person to their grave. He stepped into the restaurant, his stomach growling, and walked up to the bar.

"Do you have beignets?"

Alastor knew the answer before the barkeep even shook his head. He sighed, falling on to one of the stools.

"Sausage and grits."

"Coming right up."

Alastor tapped his fingers on the counter, watching the world around him. Hope was running thin, anxieties and hurt taking over. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up, how much more disappointment he could take.

"Haven't seen you around before, Darling," a voice purred from behind him, sending shockwaves of pain through his chest, "new in town?"

He summoned his microphone into his hand, ready to fight. It didn't matter that the demon most likely had no idea the effect of their words, the connections they had to his own past life. All that mattered was that he felt like he was being mocked, the world was parroting his life back to him because Y/n was out of his reach and probably would be forever more. He turned to face the person, a sickening grin spread tight across his face.

The demon had a clearing around her, the crowd avoiding her at all costs and whispering to one another behind the cover of their hands. Her tail flicked back and forth, ice emanating from the place her feet hit the floor.

There was something oddly familiar about her, the cocky smirk, the confidence. Alastor got to his feet. He leered over her and the woman didn't flinch one bit.

"Who's asking?"

A threat. The smile on the smaller demon's face grew, snow beginning to pile up on the floor in the corners of the room.

"You know, it's really far too cruel of you to go around with a voice like that." she hummed thoughtfully, a finger to her chin, "Gets a girl's hopes up just to shatter 'em on the floor."

Alastor could feel it now, the cold nipping at his extremities. Wind picked up in the indoor space and demons began rushing out through the door as quickly as they could. Alastor stood his ground.

"Ah, so you're the one responsible for this little snow town?"

"Why yes, I am."

"You're rather cruel yourself, you know." he mused, "Using my own words against me, how did you know? Do you overlords have some way to read a person's mind? Find the center of their desire and turn it to a weapon?"

Only now did the woman's expression change. Her calm facade morphed into confusion as the winds died down.

"What do you mean?"

"'Haven't seen you around here before, Darling, new in town?'" Alastor scoffed.

Y/n's eyes widened with a sudden recognition. It only fueled Alastor's anger as he took a step forward, shadows rising from the ground at his feet.

"I-"

"Just moved in, actually." the demon cut him off, holding a hand out for him to take, palm to the floor.

Alastor looked at her, disgust etched into his features.

"How could you..." he trailed off.

Eyes flicking over her form, Alastor examined the demoness carefully. Sure, she was different. She looked half dead, frost bitten to the extreme but, there was certainly something familar.

"Who are..."

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. Slowly, he took her hand in his. It was icy to the touch, sent shivers down his spine. With a practiced grace, he leaned down and planted a feathery kiss on the back of her hand.

"Ah, a charmer." Y/n smiled as he raised his head to hers again, "I'll have to be careful around you."

"Y/n."

It wasn't a question, he knew the answer. Alastor could feel it in his bones.

"Alastor."

She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Alastor watched her movements in astonishment. Disbelief laid thick on his body, too heavy to allow him to move.

"I'm so sorry." she whispered into his ear, her breath a cold breeze.

"I... why are you sorry?" he asked, pulling her away from him.

Alastor placed his hands on her shoulders, brushing off a bit of snow that had landed there with utmost care.

"I'm the one who's sorry. I should have come with you, I shouldn't have said the things I said, I sh-"

"I love you."

She couldn't hold the words in anymore. Icicles of tears tinkled like glass as they fell from her cheeks and landed on the floor.

"I... I love you, Alastor. I can't... I always regretted... I..."

"Me too."

He pulled her back into his arms, this time holding her body tightly to his. The cold burned but he didn't care. The whistling of the wind outside seemed to quiet.

"I love you so much, Y/n. I am so sorry."

"I'm so sorry."

Y/n pulled back, cupping Alastor's face in her hands.

"Never again."

"Never what, my love."

"Never again will I be parted from you."

"I thought I'd never see you again." Alastor admitted, "I was beginning to lose hope."

"Me too, me too."

"Never again."

----

Next Part -> Day Lilies (Alastor x Blizzard demon!Reader x Angel!OC)

A/N I am such a little slut for a good reunion scene.

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topgun-imagines · 1 year ago

Note

Happy anniversary!!! Really looking forward to your future writing! :)

🍓 + Jake

Thank you Lovely!! :)

Never Forgive You Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Your trust and love for Jake is not enough sometimes. warnings: cheating, angst, fighting, pregnancy, heartbreak. @topguncortez

The Final Sunset Jake Seresin x Wife!Reader | Jake takes you to feel the sun on your skin one last time. warnings: death, sadness, cancer, grief. @topguncortez

Squirt Jake Seresin x Female!Reader | Jake is determined to make you feel things like you've never felt before. warnings: unprotected sex, daddy kink. @topguncortez

In The Night Jake Seresin x Wife!Reader | Jake helps you live out one of your sexual fantasies. warnings: CNC, usage of sleeping pills (melatonin), talks of safe words, vaginal fingering, oral sex (F) receiving. @topguncortez

Floydsin As Dad's Jake Seresin x Bob Floyd | warnings: pregnancy, mentions of needles, mentions of vomiting, mentions of failed adoptions, labor. @topguncortez

Undiagnosed Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out. General Warnings: Angst, smut, asshole parents, trauma response, Jake is a jerk at first. @callsign-magnolia

You Might Want To Step Aside two times your boyfriend and twin brother had to stand up for you, and the one time you shocked them by doing it yourself. warnings: anxiety, shy reader, protective Hangman, protective Bob, insecure reader, self doubt. @awaywith-thefaeries

Roughing It Jake Seresin begged you, his best friend to go camping with him and Bradley Bradshaw—but not for the innocent reasons you might think. A simple camping trip turns into something much more unholy. Callsign— Giggles Warnings: Jake Seresin x F!Reader. Bradley Bradshaw x F!Reader. Unprotected sex. Male receiving oral. Choking. MxMxF Threesome. Creampie. Obvious power dynamics. @ohtobeleah

Always A Bridesmaid Bradley tells all the guys at his wedding that his little sister is off limits… But when has Jake ever listened to Rooster? Warnings: a teeny bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, drinking, smut, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected pinv, slight overstimulation, age gap (not really specified but reader is around 23-24 yrs old, jake is in his early 30s), jake being too damn charming for his own good, rooster being a very overprotective big brother, jake being a menace, and natasha being the best sister-in-law, for the sake of this story we’re gonna pretend that Goose died a few years later than what is canon to explain how Bradley has a sister that’s 10+ years younger than him lol @sugarcoated-lame

Middle Of A Memory Jake Seresin was an asshole, everyone knew it. He flew with confidence and held a cocky smirk. Behind every cocky smirk and snark remark was you, built into his memories, memories he always lived in. Warnings: 18+,mentions of alcohol, mentions of flying accidents, mentions of death, swearing, angst and of course fluff. @sunnysidevans

Who Did This To You? In your most vulnerable hour, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin is the one to find you, and the one to ask you the ultimate question. “Who did this to you?” Warnings: Mentions of Abuse and DV (NOT committed by Jake), nongraphic description of resulting injuries, a very one-sided bar fight, mention that a character is going to therapy, insults and confrontation by a past abuser. (This story is a who did this to you trope. While it is only dealing with the 'who did this to you’ aftermath of what was done, please keep that in mind.) @justfandomwritings

Join In!

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lululawrence · 3 months ago

Text

Sus' 40 to 40 Countdown: 7 Days

Today's theme kind of had me amused, because there are a lot of tropes out there in the world, and any number of them are pretty popular within our fandom, but the one given to me for today was the same one that had been given for a previous rec. Thankfully I just so happen to have a lot of fics that fit this trope and some of them haven't been included in recs yet, so I chose the ones that I personally feel fits it best. So, without further ado, today's theme is...

Fics That Include the Random Trope @justanothershadeofblue Named (hurt/comfort)

My Other Half Was You - Harry/Louis (grief/mourning, dreams, healing, starting over, strangers to friends to lovers)

By the age of 30, Louis' entire life trajectory had changed from what he'd thought it would be. He moved back to the town he grew up in and did his best to pull himself and his life back together again.

Four years, seven months, and sixteen days after the day that changed everything, Louis turns a corner and literally runs into the man who just might change it all again.

Always Keep You Next To Me - Greg James/Louis (song fic (based on Two of Us), grief/mourning, road trips, childhood friends to lovers, sharing a bed)

When Louis' twin dies, Louis decides to take the birthday road trip they were meant to take together with Will's best friend Greg instead. As they both mourn Will's death and celebrate his life, Louis and Greg become closer and maybe start to heal a little bit too.

(Something's Been) Hiding In My Heart - Harry/Louis (Sweet Home Alabama AU, exes to lovers, grief/mourning, mentions and discussion of miscarriage, implied mpreg, healing, angst with a happy ending)

A Sweet Home Alabama AU where Louis comes home to finally get his divorce from Harry finalized so he can move on with his life. Alderford holds its own set of challenges when he returns, but by facing his past maybe he can find the healing he so desperately needs.

Just Enough (to Feel my Body Come Alive) - Harry/Louis (song fic (based on Mirrors), sad Louis, cafes/coffee shops, bad puns, strangers to friends to lovers, healing)

As soon as the door closed behind him, Louis leaned against it and let out the breath that he’d been practically choking on just moments before. He’d been able to hide behind his metaphorical armour until Harry, the barista, had approached the table. That one moment somehow cracked Louis open enough that he’d felt a surge of joy for just a second, and that second was enough to scare the shit out of him.

He couldn’t let anyone in like that, not even for a laugh. Especially not another cute boy.

All 40 to 40 Countdown Posts

#40 to 40 #happy birthday countdown to me #fic rec #self rec

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tourettesdog · 1 year ago

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DPxDC fanfic recs part 2! (Part 1)

It's a Small World by halfagone

Sometimes you just need a goofy, fun one shot that throws the characters you like into a theme park and this is exactly that. I love it.

Security Guard? Nah, Blackmailed. by Olive_of_Vanders

Oli has a lot of fantastic oneshots, but I think this one might be one of my favorites. I just really love the premise lol; it's great crack.

A Little Overshadowing Never Hurt Anyone by Playedcrowdd5610

I absolutely adore the premise of this one. Overshadowing shenanigans are so much fun, and the specific way it's happening in this fic has all of my attention.

Knitting Connections by Aibhilin

This is such a soft, neat little oneshot. I love the POV for it and just the quiet scenes it paints.

30 Days of Kidnappings by Hyperintrovert

This one's just plain fun and funny, with some nice emotions and angst mixed in. There are so many kidnappings, as the name implies. Shenanigans abound.

Bat Ghost by Megaerakles

Twin fics have a special place in my heart and this is no exception. I love how focused in Amity Park this one is, and the background Superbat is a treat.

Queen Regent by Elizabehta_Beilschmidt

Gil writes a lot of great Jazz (and Hardcover ship) fics, and this one in particular is one of my faves. I might be biased based on the prompt, but I just love how this one is written and how much of a badass Jazz gets to be.

Wait a Second by Toriieffic

Mistaken identities mixed with sibling bonding-- such a great mix always. I love the setup for this fic and how it plays out, especially with Jazz and Damian's situation in particular.

Robin's Egg by Calix

Wonderfully written, adorable, precious-- with lots of emotions and angst along for the ride. I love fics with core shenanigans a lot.

Oh Northstar of Mine by Milaley

This one is so very sweet and tender. Dead tired ship has a special place in my heart and I love the relationship here with it.

Spelunking by SummersSixEcho

This is the first in a series and I think it might've been the first series I read from Summers (or at least the first DPxDC one). I love Danny's interactions with the batfam in this series, the shenanigans, the puns-- it's all so good.

Coffee Trip of Love by EyesOfCrows

This fic is just plain cute and fun. I love all of the pet names throughout it. I need to reread it pronto lol

Blooming Death, Please Love Me by Gremlin_bot

Hanahaki and blood blossoms? Yes please. I love blood blossom fics-- like a lot-- and mixing them with hanahaki trope... yes.

Another Duckin' Day by TheStarfishAlien

A lot of these on this recommend are dead tired ship, but like-- I love them, your honor. This one is just a ton of fun. Love some good pranks.

Wayne's Haunted Mansion by Tathartiel

This is such a sweet deaged/young Danny fic. I love the progression with Danny and the family with this, with the slow build of them earning his trust and figuring out more about him.

Danny Fenton's Guide to Scoring a Boyfriend by DisillusionedDanny

I just love the shenanigans and ship with this one. Enemies to lovers shenanigans abound. Dis has a Ton of great DPxDC fics, and while I haven't had the spoons to read most of their longer ones just yet, I love their stories and everything I have read.

#dpxdc #dpxdc fanfics #dpxdc fanfic #batpham #dogrecommends #dogposts #long post

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heartofmortis · 4 months ago

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✶ Evenstar

gif by @houseofamidala

PAIRING: Anakin Skywalker x OC

TROPES: tragic romance, princess x jedi, forbidden love, secret relationship, kate & anthony coded enemies to lovers, anakin’s pov, mandalorian anakin skywalker, fluff & angst, found family, artist gf x mechanic bf, canon divergence, original planet, big old tragedy

WARNINGS: major character death(s), depictions of war, pregnancies & miscarriage, grief, violence, eventual smut

TIMELINE: post-tpm – post-rots (31bby–16bby)

✶ . *. ⋆ READ ON AO3 ! // PLAYLIST !

chapters 1 – 14 completed (last updated july 12th 2024)

━━ ACT ONE (complete; 5/5)

━━ ACT TWO (currently writing; 13/15)

━━ ACT THREE – SIX (coming soon)

current word count: 40k+

EXTENDED SUMMARY

Elia Valarys is a graveyard. A display case for all the former, torn up iterations of herself. Her innocence, her girlhood, her youth. She has died so many times before it is like a memory. She is no longer flesh and bone, but tendrils of smoke, a mournful spectre. Not a girl anymore, only a ghost.

She was not always so tragic. She was her parents' miracle, born nine years after they were told they would not conceive again. She was their ray of sunshine. Her three older siblings showered her with love, despite being nine and thirteen years older than her.

For her first nine years, Alana Uttara was happy. Her mother's role as a handmaiden to the Queen of their homeworld, Aphelion, allowed her to spend time running circles around the vast palace with the princesses and her little niece. Alana's niece was born when she was five years old. Violet was the daughter of Alana's oldest brother, Aerrik and his girlfriend, and she became Alana's favourite person in the galaxy. Alana and Violet were always more like sisters than aunt and niece.

Her first death came when the sky was lit by brilliant fireworks.

As Aphelion celebrated its liberty with a fine party, Alana's world collapsed around her. As sparks showered behind her, she learned that two of her siblings and parents were dead. She wanted to scream until her throat was raw, until the stars trembled above, until the universe gave her family back. Until she had nothing left to give. (Fate is not kind to little girls with big dreams.)

Aerrik Uttara begged the Queen of Aphelion to allow him to adopt his sister — they were all each other had left. But the Queen took her instead.

Her second death arrived a year later.

Alana Uttara was buried in cotton dresses and sunlight smiles next to her parents and twin siblings. Her soft heart was not built for such anguish. (Her mother always said her heart was as vast as Aphelion's great oceans. Alana's heart and gentle nature were no curse, no weakness. It was her greatest strength.)

In her place, Elia Valarys was born. At last, she was official. A Princess of Aphelion, the Third Daughter. Not an heir; a false princess; a royal without a crown. Her people adored her, and Elia Valarys shone bright as the sun, hiding her grief behind tiaras and balls. She refused to break. But when she did, she built herself back up like a mirrorball. Elia and Alana became two different people, but their hearts were still the same.

Alana let her pain drown her, Elia grew despite it. When death stole from her, her heart flourished and made room for more love. If she could not be happy herself, she would make the galaxy better for others and make them happy. She had two new sisters and a new father who loved her like she was his own. Until little Violet turned nine years old, the last of the Uttara family would visit the Palace as often as possible — much to the Queen's disapproval.

But Alana Uttara still stalked Elia like a shadow. She was the bottle which Elia poured her heartache into. When the novelty of being part of the royal family wore off, Elia had two people living within her: the lost girl and the quiet princess.

She died a hundred times during the war.

Like a blossom in winter, her famous heart grew brittle. Her hands turned to frost as she cradled dying children. She tried so hard to protect them all, to keep them safe and take them far away from the war. Even though she saved hundreds of children displaced by the war, she was tormented by the ones she lost. After you watch a child fade away in your arms, you cannot be the same.

When she believed she could not suffer through anything worse, the betrayal arrived. It cut through her knife, twisting in her heart. Finally, she surrendered to her stone heart. Nothing can hurt you when you cannot feel anymore.

The final death caught her a lifetime later.

(The worst betrayal came as a blade through her stomach as she clung to her lover's arms. He could not protect her anymore. She could wonder forever if his last words were a lie: “I love you.”)

In any universe, Elia Valarys and Anakin Skywalker were not destined for a happy ending. (But they still fell for each other like Icarus fell for the sun every time.)

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x oc #anakin skywalker x original character #fic: evenstar #oc: elia valarys #star wars #star wars fanfiction #anakin x oc #attack of the clones #the clone wars #revenge of the sith #prequel trilogy #princess oc #jedi x princess #original planet #forbidden love #secret relationship #anakin smut #ao3

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romione-trope-fest · 8 months ago

Text

Speak Now

Title: Speak Now

Author: adenei

Selected Trope: Weasley Weddings

Summary: In the midst of trying to navigate what life looks like following the defeat of Voldemort, and the loss of so many, there’s one thing glaringly missing. The irony of it all is it takes someone else’s wedding to give Ron the kick in the pants he needs to go after what—or rather *who*—he wants.

Word Count: 1988

Rating: G

TW: mentions of character death (all canon)

“Ron, I need to ask you for a favor.” Ron’s hand stops on the doorknob, the floorboards creaking under his feet.

The thick piece of wood is the only thing separating him from a much needed afternoon nap. Sleep has been evading him. Nightmares torturing his mind as he tosses and turns on the lumpy old mattress that’s been his for as long as he can remember.

He shoots his brother a withering look, letting go of the handle as he turns to face him. “Right now?”

It’s been two weeks since the Battle of Hogwarts. Two weeks since Fred died. Two weeks since Harry defeated Voldemort. And two weeks since he and Hermione kissed.

Every waking moment has been filled with funerals or meetings, and helping around the Burrow to ease the load on his mum, who’s completely overwhelmed with grief. And if he’s not doing his part to ensure the household is running smoothly, he’s taking a shift with George, making sure he doesn’t do anything rash or stupid as he navigates a world without his twin.

Because of all that, he’s barely seen Hermione, let alone had a chance to sit down with her. Every time they cross paths at the Burrow, he feels like he’s not making enough of an effort to make her a priority, yet how can he when everything else is just as important right now? She always smiles and nods in understanding when he’s pulled here or there, but sometimes he wishes she’d speak up and be selfish, asking him to come with her for once instead.

“Yes, right now.”

Ron sighs, trying to prevent the eye roll that sneaks out anyway. “Can’t you ask—”

“No. Bill is with George, and this really needs to be addressed by the end of the day.”

“Fine,” he groans, opening the door wide enough to welcome Percy inside his room.

He’s so busy ushering Percy inside that he doesn’t notice that there’s someone else already occupying the space—more specifically, his bed.

“Oh! Hi, um, sorry. I was just waiting for—do you need me to go?” Hermione’s brows knit with worry.

Ron could curse Percy all over again for needing him now—especially if he’s missing another opportunity to talk to Hermione. His brother stares at the girl he longs to be his girlfriend, contemplating her presence until he finally decides.

“No, actually, I’d like you to stay. I think that would be best.”

“Percy, what is going—”

The uptight redhead straightens his tie and clears his throat. “I have an appointment at the courthouse in Devon in thirty minutes, and I need someone to come with me.”

Ron’s not sure why, but he suddenly realizes that Percy’s dressed up—in Muggle garb.

“What did you do?” Hermione’s eyes widen as the question slips out of her mouth.

“I—nothing. I’m—er—getting married.”

“What?” He and Hermione both exclaim in tandem.

“But you’re not even seeing someone! Right?”

“I—I know it seems rash and maybe rushed, but it’s not. I’ve been seeing a—a Muggle for about two years now. Her name is Audrey, and I truly love her. She knows about me and our world. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing, dating her amidst the war, but—now that things are, well, over, I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Ron balks at him. “You’re seriously going to get married without the rest of the family knowing?”

“Er, no. They don’t. And that’s the thing. I do want to tell everyone…eventually, but Audrey and I had talked about eloping before things got really bad. We’ve been living in a Fidelius protected home and I had to be so careful not to get caught. Otherwise, I would have tried to make amends sooner too. But—Merlin forbid something were to happen again, I don’t want to miss my chance.”

Percy rarely gets flustered, but when he does, he is very much like Hermione. His train of thought tends to bounce all over the place and he doesn’t always make sense. Ron shakes his head.

“That still didn’t answer the question.”

“I am going to tell them. When the time is right. And we can have a reception or whatever else Mum wants to plan when she’s ready, but right now, I just need it to be me and her. We don’t want the fanfare.”

“So, why are you asking me to come with you?”

“Because we need a witness. Her best friend was supposed to come, but when I got the paperwork this morning to file the marriage license with the Ministry, we realized the witness needs to be magical for our end of things. Lara is still planning on attending, but…please, Ron?”

Ron stares at his brother, who looks at him with pleading, hopeful eyes before his gaze flits to Hermione. She nods gently.

“Fine. But I don’t have—”

“Oh, Merlin, thank you! Here.” Percy pulls his wand out and Accios something from the other room. It’s another muggle suit. “Hermione, you can come too, but I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you to—”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“No, please, I’d like you there. It would make me feel a little better knowing that some of my family can be there.”

Ron’s heart constricts in his chest. Does Percy really consider Hermione family? Even though they aren’t even together?

“I—I’ll go look in Ginny’s room to see what I can find.” Her cheeks are rosy as she climbs off the bed and slips between them, exiting the room without so much as a backwards glance at either of them.

Percy looks back to Ron. “I’m sorry if I interrupted something.”

“It’s fine. You…didn’t.”

Not technically, anyway.

“Er, right. Well, I do appreciate this. Truly. Thank you. I promise it won’t be long.” Percy glances down at his watch. “We need to leave in ten minutes. I’ll meet you in the garden and we can Side-Along?”

Ron nods. “Sure.”

As Percy disappears into the hall, shutting the door behind him, Ron has trouble wrapping his head around everything.

Percy’s getting married. To a girl no other Weasley has ever met before—a muggle. And he and Hermione are the ones being asked to bear witness to it all.

* * *

The ceremony is just as Percy said it would be: brief, quiet, and intimate. For someone who always wanted all the pomp and circumstance of whatever position he held, this is uncharacteristically unassuming and private. And Ron can’t help but feel a little guilty upon seeing how the war—and the estrangement from his family—has changed Percy.

But when the justice of the peace asks them to say their vows, there’s a spark that comes to life in Percy’s eyes when he looks at Audrey, and even though Ron thinks his brother’s rushing things, it’s obvious they share something special. He doesn’t blame Percy for not wanting to wait anymore.

After all, hadn’t he said as much to Hermione in the Room of Requirement? ‘It’s now or never?’ Except it’s turned into ‘it was now, but then we had to wait a few weeks and he’s starting to think it might be never.’

Ron glances at his best friend, whose eyes are glassy with unshed tears as she watches Percy and Audrey share their promises with each other. He’s struck with an overwhelming feeling that he can’t quite place. Relief, maybe? Hope? Maybe it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t have the word to describe it. Until it’s obvious.

Love.

It’s against all odds—the fact that they’re here. They made it. Even when one, or perhaps both, probably shouldn’t have. Ron’s been so caught up mourning the loss of everyone who gave their lives to protect their world that he’s forgotten why they died in the first place. Fred, Tonks, Remus…they wouldn’t want everyone to grieve them so much they can’t get on with their lives. What good would all that fighting have been for?

Maybe Percy has the right idea, marrying Audrey. Perhaps this is part of his journey of healing and moving forward on his own, and eventually he’ll find a way to fuse his life with Audrey to the one he’s working to repair with his family. Ron wonders if he should follow in his brother’s footsteps, and find his way to happiness again.

As Percy and Audrey are pronounced man and wife, Ron knows exactly what he has to do. He offers a genuine smile as they share their first kiss, signs the documentation as their witness, and congratulates them.

“Thank you for being here,” Percy extends his gratitude again as they walk down the steps exiting the courthouse.

“No problem. Just, er, maybe don’t keep this from the rest of the family for too long. I think they could probably use something happy to latch onto.”

Percy’s mouth forms into a thin line as he nods curtly. “I’ll…try not to.” Then, he turns to his new bride. “We’re going to head back to our flat, unless you need help getting home?”

And there’s Pompous Percy, back to play.

Ron rolls his eyes. “I think we’ll manage.”

Percy and Audrey wander off down the road as Ron eyes the park nearby and nods to it. “Care for a walk?”

“Sure,” Hermione agrees.

They meander side by side, and all of the things Ron wants to say storm through to the front of his mind, but he can’t latch onto a single one long enough to start a conversation. After harboring his feelings for years, how is he supposed to finally tell Hermione how he feels?

Their fingers brush as they walk, and Ron brazenly slides his hand into hers the next time the sway of their arms sync up.

“That was unexpected,” Hermione offers.

“It was.”

“But also really sweet.”

“Yeah.”

Hermione slows her pace and turns toward him, forehead crinkled in concern. “Are you alright?”

“I—yeah—”

“I feel like we’ve barely seen each other, let alone spoken since—”

“I know.” The hand that isn’t still holding hers moves to slip around her waist. “I��m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but—I’ve wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

Us. The kiss. The locket. What happened at Malfoy’s. Shell Cottage. Everything that’s ever happened between us since the fucking Yule Ball and what it could possibly mean. All of it.

He supposes any of those could be a good starting point, but that’s not what slips out of his mouth. “I want what they have—Percy and Audrey.”

“Oh?” The singular syllable catches in her throat as she looks at him in surprise.

“With you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

He’s not sure how, but Hermione manages to move her body closer to his. “Me too,” she breathes. “I’ve been hoping—”

But Ron doesn’t give her a chance to finish. Dropping her hand, he brings it to her face, tilting her chin up as his lips graze hers. It’s much more gentle, tentative even, than their first kiss, and he relishes every second of the leap they’re taking.

“I never thought…” she starts to say when they finally break apart, but the words drift off and she bites her lip instead.

He knows exactly what she means though, even without saying it. “I know. But here we are.”

“Here we are,” she agrees.

“Reckon we probably shouldn’t jump to marriage right away though,” Ron jokes. It’s the first time he’s genuinely been able to since—well, before they broke into the Ministry.

The crack brings a smile to Hermione’s lips. Merlin, he’s missed making her smile. “No, probably not. But I don’t see a problem with dating.”

“Neither do I.”

“So, it’s settled then.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Then, a wide grin spreads across his face and happiness bubbles up from his heart. “I finally get to call you my girlfriend.”

She nuzzles her head into his chest. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” He kisses the top of her head.

For now.

#submission #Weasley weddings #romione #percy/audrey

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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 months ago

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hi! 😊

i wanna ask about the Death Master and Necromancer. there popular trope in fics where it's almost the same due to Harry' power. i personally don't like it bc of my interpretation of death in hp world... but what fo you think about it? are there differences and similarities between MoDs and Necromancers?

Hi!

Thanks for the ask as I love talking about my version of magical theory in the HP world!

So, I kinda mentioned it in my two other posts regarding the MOD, the Deathly Hallows, and the Peverells (here and here) but I don't think true necromancy exists in the world of Harry Potter.

Like, I think it's pretty telling that the most advanced form of "necromancy" we know of is creating Inferi. Inferi are just the dead bodies made to move as if alive, but they're not actually alive, they do not have a soul and I'd go on a limb and say most of them aren't properly embedded with human equivalent life, so even if you had their soul it wouldn't do shit.

But, from what we know from Nearly Headless Nick:

“He will not come back,” repeated Nick quietly. “He will have . . . gone on.” “What d’you mean, ‘gone on’?” said Harry quickly. “Gone on where? Listen — what happens when you die, anyway? Where do you go? Why doesn’t everyone come back? Why isn’t this place full of ghosts? Why — ?” “I cannot answer,” said Nick. “You’re dead, aren’t you?” said Harry exasperatedly. “Who can answer better than you?” “I was afraid of death,” said Nick. “I chose to remain behind. I sometimes wonder whether I oughtn’t to have . . . Well, that is neither here nor there. . . . In fact, I am neither here nor there. . . .” He gave a small sad chuckle. “I know nothing of the secrets of death, Harry, for I chose my feeble imitation of life instead. I believe learned wizards study the matter in the Department of Mysteries —”

(OotP, 861)

It just seemed to me that when someone's dead, they're truly dead. That's it. They're gone, and they can't come back. The dead who move on are gone and you can't speak to them, not really.

I think we get the wrong impression about death in their world since we see a lot of really unique magical flukes. But that's what they are — super rare flukes. In general, people can't come back.

I mentioned it before, but I think the forms of Harry's parents that came from Voldemrot's wand were echoes of their life or spirit trapped in his wand, taken by the killing curse and not their actual souls. These moved on beyond the veil and can't come back. And even these echos of their spirit could only come from the twin cores situation, and I'd go on a limb and say that if these were any other brother wands, owned by any other two wizards, it wouldn't have happened.

I also mentioned in the posts linked above I believe the Resurrection Stone doesn't really bring back the dead. It creates figments based on memories of the dead taken from the stone user's mind, it doesn't actually recall the souls of the dead:

“We are part of you,” said Sirius. “Invisible to anyone else.”

(DH, 590)

I also think the whole afterlife King's Cross station isn't actually happening and it actually is just in Harry's head:

“Tell me one last thing,” said Harry. “Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?” Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry’s ears even though the bright white mist was descending again, obscuring his figure. “Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?

(DH, 610)

And I mentioned I think both Voldemort and Harry died for a moment there in the forest, but they both came back because Harry is the MoD.

I also mentioned in the first post I linked what I think the Master of Death is actually capable of and why. I summarised it as the MoD won't die until they choose to, and a person chosen to be the MoD would always choose to die. As death is voluntary for the MoD, Harry should be able to walk into the veil and survive, something no one else could do (unless they have The Invisibility Cloak, maybe, but I won't bet on it if you aren't the actual master of the cloak).

No dark wizard seems to have true power over the dead and those who have already passed on. The most they could do is bring back inferi, since these are the parts of the dead that are still present where magic can access them.

The MoD might be able to walk into the veil and take a soul out, thus bringing someone fully to life by merging their body, spirit, and soul. That being said, this magic would be pretty complicated if a long time passed since the death since I assume the soul would be harder to find beyond the veil the more time passed since they died. Additionally, you'll need to heal the body from any decay it may have gone through and you'll need to find a spirit. You'll need life to tie the body and soul together, so, you either use the life of the dead person (if they died very recently, it should be accessible as I mentioned with Horcrux creation) or if their own spirit isn't present, you'll need to kill someone else with an equal life essence to use instead.

(I think this magic could be performed by any powerful enough wizard, it's just the getting a soul back from beyond the veil part I don't think anyone aside from the MoD has a chance to do, since anyone else would just die)

I think any rando dark wizard, won't be able to do much with ghosts. They are caught in a state between life and death, so wizards operating on the side of life (random so-called necromancers) won't be able to access them fully since they aren't fully alive (for the record inferi are magically alive because they have life in them, they are made of salt and mercury, so they are accessible to magic). The MoD would also not be able to do much with ghosts either, since the MoD works in either the domain of death or life, not in the in-between ghosts occupy.

(We know wizards can't really trap Poltergeists or kill dementors, their magic just seems very limited when it comes to spirit beings. Even Boggarts can't really be killed)

But the big difference is if you want to fully bring someone to life, soul, and all, you need the MoD as any necromancer just won't be able to do it. I don't think the MoD could summon spirits from the beyond or anything though, he'd have to go into the veil in the Department of Mysteries (or a similar doorway) and search for a soul the hard way and even that wouldn't succeed for sure, but it's my best guess for if you want to accomplish a true resurrection for someone who hasn't made Horcruxes.

(Another aside, I don't think ghosts can be brought back to life. As I mentioned, they are caught in between, so they aren't properly souls anymore and would reject being bonded to a body and life the way a pure soul would allow).

Hope this makes sense.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #asks #anonymous #hollowedtheory #wizarding world #hp magical theory #master of death

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saintsenara · 6 months ago

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Molly/Snape/Arthur? The Weasley kids+Harry figured the first Weasley family Christmas since Fred died would be a bit uncomfortable and emotionally fraught… and they were right, they just never could have imagined the exact reason

thank you very much for the ask, @silentgirlspeaksout!

i entirely back the idea of shipping snape with both molly and arthur individually, and so i think that - unusually for the throuples i deal with in this series - this is actually going to be a non-toxic triad...

one of the things which i think is really undervalued by the fandom is how the domestic role both molly and arthur [molly especially] play within the order is absolutely central to the order's ability to do its job. this is the case for molly's domestic labour - the resistance needs people who can cook and clean just as much as it needs people who can fight - but it's also the case for the emotional support both molly and arthur are shown in canon to provide for order members [especially tonks and lupin in half-blood prince].

snape existing outside of these experiences - refusing to engage with the order as a community by not eating or socialising with them - is a metaphor for the isolation his role as a spy brings [as well as a way of keeping the reader guessing about where his loyalties actually lie...].

but i think it's entirely plausible - especially given both molly and arthur's canonical willingness to take in waifs and strays - that both weasleys attempted a lot during order of the phoenix to get him to join them for meals and chat.

and i also think that one of the most profound examples of love - one which the series, which prioritises love-as-suffering and love-as-sacrifice [which snape's silent work in lily's memory encapsulates], hugely underappreciates - is love-as-comfort. i think you could do a lot with snape - a bitter, lonely, cold, hungry man - being cajoled by the twin forces of molly's nagging and arthur's affability into staying for a bit of rhubarb crumble, and this single act sparking something genuinely compelling between them...

[after all, as those of us in both snapemort and snumbledore nation know... he definitely has a weakness for being told what to do...]

because snape must respect molly and arthur - at least as much as he ever respects anyone. he doesn't insult them [at least in harry's hearing], arthur's mere presence in the room is enough to stop him and sirius fighting in order of the phoenix, and - of course - he puts himself in genuine danger [since voldemort doesn't strike me as the sort of person who'd think it was automatically fine for snape to have cut off one of his fellow death eaters' hands - even if it was "an accident"] to try and save george's life.

and so i also think you could do something really interesting with this triad post-war.

both molly and arthur - who, after all, stays in post at the ministry after voldemort's takeover until april 1998 - are well-placed to appreciate what snape had to go through as a spy. they are also - especially following fred's death - well-placed to appreciate how utterly grief changes your life, how you would do anything to soothe the pain of your grief, and how some of the things which help distract you are duty and fear - which means that, without the immediate need to keep going which war brings, your grief crashes down all the harder.

i'm always struck by sirius’ statement in order of the phoenix that arthur is a man who understands that “there are things worth dying for” in war. but i think that [very much unlike sirius...] arthur also demonstrates throughout canon that he understands the flip-side of this - that there are things worth living for, but that it's often harder to live for something than to die for it.

a snape who’s miraculously survived nagini’s bite [something else he and arthur have in common!], who finds himself unmoored in a world in which he’s just… free is a trope i adore. and i am very much invested in the idea that his extremely complicated journey towards being able to carry his grief without buckling under the weight would mesh very nice with molly and arthur's own, by providing an outlet for molly's canonical interest in caring for people and arthur's canonical interest in fixing things which allowed them to feel like they were doing something which made not just falling to pieces worth it.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #unhinged and deranged ships #or not as the case may be #severus snape #arthur weasley #molly weasley

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rhaegang · 5 months ago

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i know it's an overdone trope but... persephone felix and hades oliver, what are your thoughts?

My thoughts are YES. There’s just a massive stack of different myths to play with where these saltboys can easily be involved, but this one is such a core myth, you know?? And it’s pretty obvious that a lot of the appeal of cattonquick is the duality and the contrasts — light and dark, big and small, extrovert and introvert etc. That’s obviously true of this myth, too.

I think it would be extremely interesting to see someone approach it from the reverse, also. Hades certainly has more power in their dynamic, and draws Persephone into an entire realm that’s foreign to her, that would come with its own customs etc. I can definitely see Saltburn as the underworld and Oliver as a fairly innocent but sharp-tongued Persephone whose darkness is only awakened by proximity to the beautiful, congenial, yet callously cruel and selfish Felix / Hades…???

I love how it could work either way for them, and that makes my brain buzz with how they are! The same! Somehow! I don’t know how Emerald, Barry & Jacob did it but they fully managed to convince me that Oliver and Felix are the same person split into two bodies with two wildly different upbringings. Not even twins separated at birth kind of thing, but one soul cleaved in two. They seem!!! So different!!! But I don’t believe it. I believe they are Enmeshed. They are made of the same stuff, somehow.

(though wouldn’t it be fun to do like, a historic fantasy where Queen Elspeth birthed two boys and they disposed of the smaller quieter babe to avoid any disputes over who would be the heir…but instead of killing the boy, a guard or the wet nurse sold it to a modest merchant whose wife had given him four lovely daughters but who was still in need of a son…and one day that merchant’s son happens to save the prince from a runaway carriage or something and is summoned to the castle keep…)

Anyway. Back to Hades & Persephone.

Oliver doesn’t mind his work. It’s consistent, it’s predictable, it’s necessary. He has plenty of time to himself, and he has all the knowledge of the ages available to him — any scholar who has ever lived has also died or will one day, and their great minds are available for his perusal.

But it is cold, and sometimes much too quiet, and he’s so very tired of being merely tolerated by the other gods. He works hard, much harder than many of them, and he deserves recognition and respect. He deserves more than their disdain and rejection.

He knows saying this would matter little. If he wants something, he’ll have to make it happen for himself. After all — he works hard. Why shouldn’t he benefit from his own efforts now and then?

Felix is naive and trusting, and much too loose-tongued when he’s drunk. He says more than he ought to, considering that Oliver is a stranger to him, but he’s sun warm and charming and no one would ever, ever think to hurt him — he’s a child of Demeter and Zeus!

So he says more than he ought to, including that he is so very, very bored by making things grow. He doesn’t want to do Demeter’s work all the damn time. He’s tired of being forever gilded by the sun, of being enrobed in the cloying scent of fresh flowers, of the adoration of every living thing.

“…and what if you were adored by a dead thing?”

It’s such a strange question, and Felix is so drunk, cheeks and mouth flushed with wine, that he laughs.

He laughs, but when Oliver beside him does not laugh, Felix turns to look at him properly.

And he sees, very briefly, the shadow of a great scythe. He sees, for a mere moment, those sharp blue eyes embedded in a death mask, suspended in dark and empty sockets of bleached bone.

What falls from Felix’s mouth is not a laugh, then, but a gasp.

Terror grips him, and it makes him tremble, and everyone knows he’s easily scared. Everyone knows that, so later, everyone believes that he must have been too scared to run. He must have been too frightened to fight back.

Everyone understands that it isn’t Felix’s fault that he disappears, that in his absence the growing things stop growing, that the warm sun turns its face away, that winter comes for the very first time. It’s much easier to blame Oliver, the strange one, the Other, for all that. It’s easier to believe that Oliver must have taken Felix away than it is to believe he simply left of his own accord.

It’s easier for everyone to believe that, but only because they’ve never been to where Oliver comes from. They’ve never felt the calm, the cold, the peace of the place. And they’ve never felt how it feels to have Oliver’s complete, rapturous attention, to be preferred over all others by He who knows every soul that’s ever lived. They’ve never felt how it feels to be held in the arms that will one day reap the entire world.

They have never kissed him and tasted their own oblivion.

They know nothing, and that’s why they believe they must bring Felix back to where they think he belongs.

But Felix eats, willingly, fed from Oliver’s hand, and he will wait. He will lie naked in the summer fields and let himself grow sun warm again, let the scent of flowers cling to his skin, let the vibrating, screaming chaos of all this busy life sink in and swell inside himself. He’ll soak up the love of the living, and then some day soon, he’ll spill all of it into Oliver, empty himself out like an upturned bottle of wine, a ready vessel waiting to be filled up again with something new.

Something quiet, and cold. Something that terrifies him. Something he chose.

#gang asks #rhaegang originals certified fresh

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cryptidghostgirl · 9 months ago

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heyhey! You said you had a request but couldn’t see it and in case it was mine here i am once again humbling asking you to feed my delusions. I am the same person who asked for the one with the fake dating trope and the one where reader spawns into the lobby :))

But i am here now going for a more angsty route! >:) Granted, this is more of an OC x Alastor but im describing it more generic for the populace BUT HERE GOES

right before “Cover me” reader kept silently glancing over at Alastor which was on the dance floor, subconsciously making him approach her. He goes of course they have a (Important for later) conversation like “I havent seen you around here. Are you new around town?” “Just moved in actually~” “Well, Id love to give you a tour someday, the names Alastor” and he kisses her hand “Ah a charmer, ill have to be careful around you” (OR A MORE ELEGANT CONVERSATION THEN THAT I SUCK AT DIALOGUE) then theres the knife and gun scene and the team up

And then they get together after about a year or two and I dont wanna say theyre legally married but eventually use wife and husband terms because its more fancy and gives them more respect in eyes of others but they have been together for around 5 years at this point.

but then the events of 1925 happen where readers twin brother dies because some bastards set fire to his house and Reader has an argument with Alastor before eventually going alone to avenge her brother (theyre like “theres too many, youll die” “so be it!”)

Reader kills them all (duh) but because it was January and extremely cold she eventually gets hypothermia and during the delusions it gives she stumbles and gets impaled on an abandoned rusty fence spike and dies :3

Alastor find her and gives her a proper burial and 8 years later in 1933 while visiting readers grave he gets shot canonically

But these 8 years gave reader enoigh time in hell to establish her own dominance and due to the life she lived and the death of hypothermia- she gets turned into a sort of blizzard demon. Around 180 cm with black limbs, white fluffy hair and fluffy ears and a white tail as a sinner form and for the demon form im thinking of the faceless Room Guardians by Anyaboz on Instagram (incredible artist btw) with ice powers like summoning weapons and ice spikes and ice touches and moving freely (like Kindred’s wolf in League) in her blizzard. Taking over half the pentagram like this-

Until 1933 when Alastor pops up in hell, does his demon business and eventually wants to check out these frozen parts and goes into a bar very similar to the one they met and sees reader at the table and then THEY HAVE THE EXACT SAME CONVERSATION THEY HAD WHEN THEY FIRST MET (maybe with the knife and gun scene too hehe) and theyre both like “i forgive you” or smth idk maybe they just have a silent agreement- either way.

After they met the blizzard stops and no one knows why or who did it :>, readers identity as the blizzard demon remaining a secret

BTW I LOVE YOU FOR MAKING MY DREAMS COME TRUE- if you want more i have a ton of ideas because brain rot- (also lil side note i kind of imagine reader as albino because it would fit my ocs lore a bit more- but keeping it basic would fit everyones ideas of their own reader so! do what you please you already made my day better by reading my ideas come to life :3))

yes!! i did see yours and it is currently in third place for requests i need to fill so ill probably get it done by this weekend, early next week at the latest. it’s just taking me a bit because i’m in midterms rn and also i want to make sure i get in all the details :) i think it might’ve been a request for alastor’s mom reader x lucifer?? i recall getting one about that but can’t seem to find it anywhere. long story short,, your request is in progress and i will post it as soon as i have the time to finish it up :)

UPDATE: This piece has officially been posted as of Friday February 23rd, 2024.

Frostbite (Alastor x Reader)

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #fic writer #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #request things #request one shot #asks #answered asks

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themorriganwitch · 2 years ago

Text

Top Gun Maverick - How the Characters met their s/o and some HeadCanons for their relationship

Summary: How the Characters met their s/o and some HeadCanons for their relationship

Characters: Rooster, Hangman, Bob, young Mav and Fanboy

Warnings: 18+, MDNI

Words: 1,8k

Masterlist

_______________________________________________________________________

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin:

- contrary to many believes I am convinced that Jake married young.

- either his high school or his college sweetheart

- definitely enemies to lovers

- it took them a while to figure their feelings out bc Jake was a teasing / flirting jerk and his s/o was not having any of it.

- they are the kind of couple who are extremely into PDA that makes everyone around them feeling cringey.

- also, a very competitive couple but in a healthy way where both parties are thriving to help the other becoming the best version of themselves.

- always doing their work outs together

- they probably had their first child soon after graduating college, 6 months married when Jake had just joined the Navy.

- it was not always an easy road, but they always worked through it.

- I am convinced they have a bunch of kids, probably between 3 or 4 with one set of twins.

- Jake passed out after he found out he will be a dad of twins.

- during the TGM time frame his kids were between the ages 10 – 5.

- I see Jake being the chilled parent, while his s/o is the one who is a bit stricter in her parenting.

- as well as with his wife, Jake always makes sure to reassure his kids to follow their dreams.

- at least one of the twins (a boy and a girl) when not both joined the navy, giving their mom a heart attack.

- After Jake got a permanent Job without being on deployments that often, he totally bought a ranch with some cows, so he would have an apology to wear his cowboy hat the whole time.

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Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw :

- Bradley never really believed that he was capable of having a relationship.

- Everyone he ever loved either died or betrayed him, so he closed off from an early age.

- That’s why he only had one-night stands or casual friends with benefits scenarios for the first 30 years of his life.

- Bradley is made for the friends to lovers’ trope.

- Probably met his s/o via friends, maybe a friend of Phoenix who he met a few years after they graduated Top Gun

- She is probably quite a bit younger than him.

- They were friends for at least 1 ½ years, until Bradley trusted her with his whole heart.

- It was on his dad’s death anniversary, which he normally spends alone, when his s/o showed up on his door, knowing he would need someone today.

- She is the first person who has seen him cry since his mom died.

- That was also the day he knew that she is not just a friend, but he is in love.

- At first, he was totally overwhelmed, never kneeing the feeling of real love.

- He probably needed some space after this, processing everything.

- But then showed up on their doorstep, confessing his feelings.

- After that day the both of them were inseparable

- They are each other’s best friend, partner in crime and ride or die.

- He is also the person who would never judge his partner for having mental health issues, he would be incredibly supportive cause he knows what the darkness feels like

- They probably have 2 or three kids, 2 girls and one boy (who is obviously called Nick)

- Roosters wife is probably pregnant with baby number 2 during the TGM time frame.

- They own a huge beach house in San Diego

- They are hosting the best barbecues

- They also have 2 dogs, probably golden retrievers which Rooster named Iceman and Maverick (he still thinks about getting a chihuahua and calling him Hangman)

————————————————————————

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd :

- Robert knows his s/o since birth.

- Definitely childhood friends to lovers

- Their moms were best friend since middle school and as soon as they knew they will have each a boy and a girl, they had the dream of their kids ending up together.

- That’s exactly the reason it took the two of them years to actually come together.

- Both were quite good friends but their moms’ making comments about them coming together is just extremely cringe and strange for them (in their teen years)

- Their ways parted when they choose different colleges and only saw each other on holiday breaks when they came home.

- They would then spend every minute together by watching movies or driving through the city at night, talking about life.

- It was when Bob announced he will join the Navy that his s/o realized that she is in love with him.

- And it took Bob 8 months longer, until he had to eject out of a plane for the first time, terrified for his dear life that he realized the same.

- After Bob graduated Top Gun, he made his way back home and the both of them shared their feelings with each other that night.

- Everything about their relationship screams true love.

- Their moms both cried when the two announced they were engaged, 3 years after coming together.

- Due to some issues, it took Bob and his s/o a couple of years to get pregnant.

- But after a couple of years, they welcomed their only daughter in this world.

- Bob is definitely a girl dad.

- And he would throw the world best sleep overs for his daughter.

- With some homemade popcorn and different themes, he crafted some décor for

- Due to their fertility issues, they were probably still trying doing the TGM time frame, so this would probably a topic Bob and Phoenix would have talked often about in private.

- And she was just as happy as the grandmas to be, when she found out she was going to be an aunt.

- Bob and his s/o bought a huge house in their hometown shortly after their daughter was born

- This house is also the spot where every Dagger Celebration takes place

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Young Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell:

- His relationship to his s/o reminds me of the lyrics in Taylor Swifts song Mine

- ‘You made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter.’

- His tropes also totally scream summer romance and the one that got away.

- It’s also giving Baby and Johnny (Dirty Dancing)

- He probably met her the summer when he was graduating Top Gun

- He was in his late twenties and she probably in her early to mid/twenties.

- She was probably in law or med school, trying to make her daddy proud, but she is a free spirit who is giving artsy vibes.

- Probably painted Mav on his Bike or in a cockpit a couple of times

- Their relationship progressed fast and was pretty passionate.

- Mav loved the sneaking around and encouraged his s/o to step up to her dad and follow her dreams.

- They had the perfect summer romance, with those cinematic moments (like riding his bike in the rain and sharing passionate kisses after)

- Their whole world shattered after Goose died.

- It was the end of the summer and s/o had to leave for university a couple of days after

- They were both heartbroken but agreed that every summer romance must come to an end.

- They were both deeply in love, without telling the other.

- Their heartbreak was horrifying.

- But they never stopped thinking about each other.

- It took them 5 years to reunite, meeting up in San Diego again, where reader opened a little cafe for artist after quitting college.

- It was a beautiful reunion, which lasted about 8 days until Mav got deployed.

- They both agreed that a stable relationship with a house, dog and kids were not what was in the cards for them at that point, so they kept in casual.

- It was about 15 years later, when Mav was in his mid 40’s and his s/o in her late 30’s that they agreed on settling down, in their own kind of way.

- Mav opened his shop and they both agreed on buying a black Labrador which they called Goose.

- Being the dagger squads second set of parents and working with them through their life crises

- Their life is not what others, especially people in the navy, would call conventional.

- But neither Mav nor his s/o is conventional and that’s the exact reason they love each other so deeply.

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Mikey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia:

- He is the dream guy for every fangirl.

- He probably met his s/o on a convention.

- This or it was a blind date which was set up by Payback.

- The two of them went out for Burger and Fries in a typical American Diner for their first date, where they talked and talked about every fandom they had ever been in

- They always have something to talk about

- The two of them will go to Comic Con and Fan Events together, wearing the cutest couple costumes ever.

- Gamer Boyfriend and Book Lover Girlfriend

- He is the one to re-create book scenes with

- Like standing in a doorframe and so on

- He will beta read every fanfiction his s/o ever wrote, giving great critique and compliments.

- Each other’s safe place

- After always being judged for being a part of several fandoms from early ages on, it is very important for them to never judge their partner and making sure both of them are feeling safe.

- Huge discussions after which fictional characters their kids will be named after

- They probably have two boys, who are 4 years apart.

- The first one was a couple of weeks old during the TGM time frame.

- Its broke Mickeys heart to leave his girlfriend and his newborn son alone, but Payback made sure to bring his WSO back to his family.

- They married shortly after the Uranium Mission, Payback being Fanboys best man.

- This wedding definitely had some Pinterest inspiration from different fandoms.

- For the name of their second son, the dagger squad had to vote between different fantasy names.

- Mickey lost after trying to get the others vote for Anakin Legolas Garcia

- The two of them hosting gaming events for Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, and Hangman on the one side, while his wife, Bob, Phoenix, and Rooster had their book club meeting on the other side of the living room.

- They also make the greatest Christmas cards, every year a different fantasy theme.

______________________________________________________________________

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bookish-rival · 1 year ago

Text

Kiss under the gevran Mistletoe

Art by the amazing @gessueter and commissioned by the lovely @StardustSteph(Twitter) aka @leiaamidala

A short fanfic of Wren x Alarik from the books Twin Crowns, Cursed Crowns and Burning Crowns by Catherine Doyle & Katherine Webber

Pairing/Ship: Queen Wren Greenrock, King Alarik Felsing

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Rivals To Lovers, Fluff, Angst

Warning: Mention of characters death, cursing

Summary:

Queen Wren needed some fresh air during festivities held at Grinstad Palace, hosted by Royal Family of Gevra. While taking a stroll through the quiet hallways together, Wren and Alarik noticed a Mistletoe hanging above them. Wren is given a choice. To either kiss her mortal enemy (once again) or walk away, ignoring her growing feelings for him.

WARNING! This story takes place after the second book, so HUGE SPOILER ALERT FOR BOTH BOOKS!

———————————————————————————————————————

Hi!

This is my first EVER story I’ve written and posted here. The Twin Crowns series has captured my heart for some time now, and only after reading the second one did I start imagining my own stories for these characters.

The books are absolutely amazing! I cannot wait for the third and final book of this trilogy.

I therefore tried to come up with my own little scenario.

A few things in advance: This is my first fanfic I wrote and English is only my second language, so there might be a lot of mistake in there. I also used exact parts from the books to fill in the flashbacks, so if some parts sound familiar than that’s because it’s 100% copied from the books hahaha.

I also didn’t know how to set the scene and mood correctly, so it starts of with a fast summary of the books (so big spoilers) as it explains why Wren happened to be in Gevra once again. There’s a big jump into the story as the two were already walking together. I didn’t know how to start off, so if it feels a bit rushed I’m sorry.

Please show more support to the authors of this series and I hope that you will enjoy this little oneshot.

Have fun!

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The Christmas season is coming to a close and every year the royal family of Gevra holds a huge feast at Grinstad Palace to celebrate.

This year however, the Twin Queens of Eana, Rose Valhart and Wren Greenrock, as well as their best friend and strongest ally King Shen Lo of the Sunkissed Kingdom, have been invited as honorary guests by King Alarik Felsing of Gevra himself.

The cold hearted King of Beasts invited them after a long exchange of letters with the Queens.

Their last meeting included the second death of the King’s younger sibling, Prince Ansel.

After he died in Eana, Wren was forced to bring him back with forbidden blood magic which caused him to return as a living corpse more than a real resurrected human being.

After multiple attempts of warning King Alarik and his sister, Princess Anika Felsing, about the dangerous outcome, they later agreed on letting their brother rest in peace.

The Felsing siblings asked Wren to perform her healing magic to send Prince Ansel’s body in a peaceful slumber, but it didn’t work when she tried.

Later, her sister Queen Rose took on the task and gave the Prince the peace he wanted, and his family the peace they needed.

The exchange of letters with the Gevran King also involved a specific evil witch, that holds a dangerous threat to both their kingdoms. The festivities are a perfect chance to talk about forming an alliance to fight this threat together.

That’s why, even though the twin Queens feel a chill running down their spines just thinking about traveling to Gevra, they still accepted the invitation. Hoping to officially bury the hatchet with the icy realm and additionally, build an alliance between Gevra and Eana, as a gift to their people.

*End of Summary*

The King of Gevra, and the Queen of Eana left the noisy ballroom behind, as they walked through the hallways of Grinstad Palace.

Alarik suddenly stopped under a door arch, as he noticed something on the ceiling. He looked up amused.

“What’s so funny?” Wren said as she looked up suspiciously, trying to see what got the frost-hearted King’s attention.

At first she didn’t realize what she saw, but then she remembered the Gevran tradition, Princess Anika told her about. The so called ”Mistletoe”, saying two souls whom stand beneath one, will have to peck their lips or be cursed for life.

Wren mumbled swear words while nervously looking around if anyone can see them, hoping, even a tiny bit, that their privacy will be interrupted and her complicated flame of desire for the ice cold king wouldn’t develop and confuse her any further. Dammit. That’s exactly the reason, why she was avoiding private moments with him.

Suddenly, her head got clouded in the memory of the first and last kiss they shared.

The time they made out in the middle of her self made blizzard, outside of Grinstad Palace.

She remembers the moment Alarik smiled into the kiss, not being afraid of the witch in his arms or the blizzard at his back. Both trying to find release from their own grief, and finding it, in each others embrace.

She shock her head, trying to get rid of those memories before they overtake her actions.

Only after gazing back at the King’s face did she realize that she must’ve looked absolutely pathetic, looking around for people, turning all shades of red trying to distract from the mistletoe hovering above them.

“I am not kissing yo-“

“Too bad, it’s tradition.” King Alarik stepped foward, cutting her off. She immediately looked away trying to hide her red face.

Wren couldn’t take it, she was looking like a fool in this moment. Trying to get the upper hand in this, she took a stride towards him, facing him directly.

“Where’s your mother? I’d rather kiss her.”

A chuckle escaped his throat. “That’s very low. Even for-“

“A witch?” Wren crossed her arms.

“-you.” Alarik finished.

“Same thing.”

Another low chuckle. “You may be a witch, having your own kind of spells…”

Alarik glided even closer, making Wren tilt her head to look in his shining blue eyes.

“But……if you break a Gevran tradition, you’ll end up being cursed for life. Is that what you want?”

“….Are you blackmailing me right now?”

“Perhaps.”

“I feel honored, your Majesty.” Wren said while sarcastically curtsying to him.

“But with all my, none existing, respect for you… I will NOT be kissing you.”

A smirk came across her lips, thinking she finally turned the conservation around.

Alarik hummed in response.

”Oh don’t worry, your Highness…” His sarcasm mirrored her own.

”I never said anything about you having to kiss me.” He said while slowly decreasing the distance of their bodies, causing Wren to retreat backwards until her back hits the wall of the arch.

”W-What?” Wren hated how intimidated her voice sounded. Alarik was so close that she could feel his breath on her face.

”What made you think…” His right hand caressed her silvery strand of hair, until he reached her cheek. He wasn’t touching her cheek, his hand was just levitating beside her face. Wren could only feel a light touch, because her trembling would cause her face to slightly brush against his hand.

Her eyes darted to his left hand that had found itself gently placed on her waist, his thumb soothingly drawing circles over her skin, sending even more shivers up her spine.

”…that You will be the one initiating the kiss.” He whispers, almost afraid that someone will hear them, even though it was obvious that they were completely alone.

Wren’s eyes met his, immediately getting trapped in his gaze.

Once again the memory of their past kiss slipped itself into her mind.

She knew Alarik Felsing can kiss. His quiet ferocity to his passion, the way he held her tightly against him, how he angled her head to claim her mouth and the way she let him back then. The moment his lips seizing hers, the spark being ignited and them being consumed in its fire.

The Gevran King closed the distance further, pulling the Queen out of her thoughts. She slammed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the feeling of his soft lips against hers once again. Deep down feelings of uncertainty and guilt creeped up. But the touch of his lips never came.

She opened her eyes again, trying not to let any signs of disappointment from her gaze betray her feelings to him.

Alarik‘s eyes weren’t closed. They were mainly focused on hers, like he never closed them in the first place, making it seem like he never intended on kissing her at all.

Her confusion grew with every millisecond the King wasn’t moving.

The Gevran King, Alarik Felsing, was a powerful, selfish man. He could get everything he wanted, he could’ve captured her lips right then if he so desired and yet, here they were. Not kissing.

Just staring in each others eyes, as his hands continued to ghostly hold her waist and hair, not daring to capture her with more force. And additionally, Alarik didn’t show any interest of wanting to close the remaining distance. He did not move, and he was not going to move.

The Witch was held loosely in the embrace of the Icy King, free to step away from him and leave any building feelings for the King behind, or capture his lips herself, if she so desired.

Wren couldn’t believe it. Was he messing with her?

Was it all just a game? Finding the perfect time and spot to make her vulnerable and then mess with her? Slowly, but surely, the old feelings of anger and disappointment towards the cold-hearted King of beasts returned. Deep down Wren had a feeling that, sooner or later, Alarik would tease her about the heated kiss they shared in the past. It was obvious that he was gonna be the one who’d bring it up again. He enjoyed it, for some sick reason she doesn’t really wanna know.

But she didn’t enjoy it. She never wanted to kiss him. She hated him. They hated each other.

The blizzard of her confused feelings clouded her mind mind that day, she wasn’t thinking straight. The kiss was a mistake.

Her now furious eyes flickered at his gaze, trying to find some truth in his annoyingly shining blue pupils. Then, a sudden thought overtook her mind. The moment she threw herself at him in the heated moment, appeared before her.

It was snowing in the courtyard as they held each other, both screaming at each other, as Wren’s new magic created a snowstorm around them, pushing them closer, due to her emotions raging inside of her. Snowflakes landed all over their clothes, hair and a single one stopping on Alarik´s bottom lip.

“I hate you!“ Wren hissed. “I hate you more than anyone I’ve ever met!“

“And you think i care?“ Alarik sneered. “I hate you too.“

“Tyrant.“

“Brat.“ He shot back.

“Wretch.“

“Witch.“

“So what?!“ Wren’s gaze fell to that single snowflake on his lip.

Alarik held her face in his hands. Trying to hold her still and stop the blizzard going out of control around them.

“Wren.“ He said with a serious tone. “Stop. It.“

“Make. Me.“ And then, they were kissing.

Wren didn’t know why she licked the snowflake from his bottom lip. Or why he opened his mouth to seize the kiss. But it happened.

She initiated the kiss.

SHIT. She kissed him.

If not for that damn snowflake on his impeccable lips, it wouldn’t have happened. But it did. And now it was gonna happen again.

This time, however, she was thinking straight. She’s able to stop the kiss and the forming of any more complicated and uncertain feelings for the man infront of her. Guilt, grief, anger, frustration, disappointment. Those feelings were just a few snowflakes in the blizzard of suffering roaming inside her, at this time. Wren couldn’t stop the blizzard now, nor ever, she feared. But she is able to keep someone else from getting drawn into her storm.

She had to stop this. To protect herself, and him, from more complications between each other. To protect them both from another mistake.

“Too close…” Wren swallowed as she looked into his eyes.

She was sure that deep inside his gaze, was a spark of hurt and disappointment, before his eyes turned to an understanding look, as he slowly retreated his face from hers. Giving her space. When his hands left her body, she trembled from the lost feeling of his closeness.

This happened before.

She was broken. Too broken to see someone else’s feelings. Too broken to see her own feelings.

To see, to feel, what she really wanted, what she needed.

After failing to heal Prince Ansel a few months ago, she ran away, breaking down in her room. She couldn’t do to. She couldn’t heal the Prince’s soul and give him the peace he desired. Wren couldn’t. No matter how much she wanted to. And she did, want to. She wanted to fix her mistakes. By using forbidden magic, she poisoned her own soul.

She cursed herself. She was broken.

”You are not broken, Wren.”

Alarik’s voice reached her memory. She wasn’t alone with her grief, that day. There was someone else next to her.

It was Alarik. He ran after her that day. He saw her in her weakest moments. In her most pathetic moment. And yet, he had no intention of making fun of her.

“You are not broken.” Alarik said.

“Yes, I am! What the hell do you know?!”

“I know that if you can bring yourself to care about something beyond yourself, you are not broken.”

He raised his hand, curling a strand of her hair around his finger.

When he lifted it, Wren saw that it was bright silver.

“See how much you care, Wren.”

Alarik traced the single black strand in his summer wheat hair, which developed after his fathers death.

“My father once told me that to know grieve is to know love, and you cannot love something if you’re irretrievably broken.”

Back then she was staring at the King, trying to figure out where this version of him had come from, or if perhaps it had been there alll along, hiding beneath his icy facade.

“You once told me that love is a horrible business.” Countered Wren sobbing.

“It is.” said Alarik “But why does that have to change anything?”

Her shoulders sagged under the weight of the truth.

“I can’t fix Ansel, I can’t even fix myself.”

“You don’t need to be fixed. You just need time to heal.”

Wren closed her eyes, feeling his grief as her own.

He stepped back.

A small, wayward part of her wanted to reach for him, at that moment.

To curl herself in his embrace and distract herself from the crack in her heart.

“Go home. Find your healing witch.”

She’ll never forget his soft and fleeting smile. The way a moment of peace in a lifetime of war was given to her, by the man she called her enemy.

He stood back then, and the moment slipped away. He stood back now too.

”But…” Wren’s broken and timid voice reached Alarik in a second, as he once again searched for her eyes. She looked at him, her vision slowly decreasing as tears developed in her eyes.

Wren let the last moment to slip away. But she wasn’t gonna let this one slip away.

She grabbed his belt and pulling him closer, his nose inches away from crashing into her forehead. Her hands were trembling while holding onto the fabric of his shirt, almost turning white due to her fierce grip.

”But…” Her eyes slipped a little further down and land on his lips once again. “…not close enough.”

”Wren...” Alarik whispers, softly, before she pressed her lips against his. Immediately, he melted into her.

Different than their past lip debate, this was a different sensation. Sweet, not hasty or needy. Soft, tender, sincere. Things she never expected from the Gevran King.

This time, the kiss didn’t develop into a fierce battle of emotions, it stayed as a diligent touch, lingering long enough for both of them to adapt their breathing until their chests were heaving in synchronization. Alarik gently moved his right hand though her hair, while the one on her waist continued to massage her tender flesh. It made her lightheaded, forming an empty space in her mind with no room for doubt, grieve, or any other feeling other than….this.

Once again, it was the selfish and fierce King with an ice block as heart, that gave her even the tiniest bit of peace in the battle she was fighting, the one in her country and in herself. This second of vulnerability from both her, a witch queen, and the gevran king, made her feel at peace. Even if it didn’t hold long.

Her feelings were just as confusing and complicated as the man she was embracing. Alarik was a complicated man indeed. Last time she discovered new side of him, it that twisted her stomach. Wren didn’t like how it cast Alarik in a different light, not as a brutal king but as an ordinary young man. She didn’t want to think of him like that. Every time she spares a thought for him, good or bad, it gets intertwined with guilt. It would slowly start to eat her from the inside, until she couldn’t tell if it’s right or wrong. She didn’t want to feel too much, she didn’t want things to get mixed up and grow more complicated. After all, the only person who gets more insecure about their own indefinite feelings, is her.

Due to her thoughts, the young Queen unintentionally squirmed in his hold, which caught Alarik‘s attention. As if he could read her mind, and feel her building doubt, he slipped his tongue through her lips, surprising her so much, that a squeal and moan escaped her at the same time.

She broke away from his hold, trembling more with embarrassment than fury.

“You slipped a tongue in there, you fuckin-“

“Well, you were making weird noises so clearly you enjoyed that.” He joked, showing off his canines. She offendedly pushed him backwards, so her back wasn’t pressed against the cold stone wall anymore.

“This changes nothing. I still hate you.”

“Didn’t seem that way a second ago.”

“I-“

“You kissed me.“

“Shut up.”

“That was-“

“That never happened.“

“Wren, I don’t think this ego lift is ever going to fade.“

She attacked him with a punch. Like he saw it coming, Alarik caught her wrist and pulled her into his chest, holding her hand against his heart.

“Still hate me?”

“Definitely.”

“Just as much?”

“Hmm…maybe…” she reached her other hand infront of his face. Her fingers pressed strongly against each other, not leaving a gap between the tips. ”This…less.”

Alarik smirked, distancing himself once again as he lead her hand towards his face.

”I’ll take what I can get.” He pressed his lips to her hand. Wren silently gasped as the feeling of his lips left her skin.

”I need a drink.”

”What’s the magic word?” Alarik said, jokingly.

“Oh, yeah nevermind. I’ll get it myself.” She scooted past him, hearing a faint chuckle erupt from his mouth.

Together, they made their way back to the festivities, shoulders brushing softly with each step, as the sound of their footsteps, just like their feelings of distrust towards one another, slowly quiet down.

The End.

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