#he just had to leave and forge his own path to figure it out

[anoras]

i think the writers did a shockingly good job at portraying davrin as the kind of person would have chafed against the bounds of the culture he was brought up in no matter what the culture was. it's not "being dalish" that he had issue with, it's the thought of staying still, of not being able to forge his own path that he couldn't stand, and i think that's a drive that would have existed regardless of his upbringing. like there's a reason "he has to find his own way" is echoed so often when it comes to assan - and it's because davrin and assan echo each other. davrin is a shepherd turned monster hunter turned shepherd again, and that's the whole darn point !

[thepaperpanda]

The hot springs || Douma x fem!reader x Akaza

Summary: You suggested a hot spring visit to ease the tension between Akaza and Douma 😈

Warnings: none, but the reader is one of the Upper Moons

Word count: 4,5k

Authors: Cass & Rouge

As one of the Upper Moons, you were esteemed among your fellow demons and counted Douma and Akaza as close acquaintances. Over the centuries, you had forged a relationship with both of them that was both complex and, at times, tiring.

Douma, with his impeccable taste and artistic flair, had always been a fascinating figure to you. He was cunning and manipulative, but also prone to bouts of whimsy and erratic behavior. Despite his charm and wit, you could not help but feel a sense of irritation at times, especially when he became overly self-indulgent or cruel to those around him.

Akaza, on the other hand, was a force of nature. His raw power and determination were awe-inspiring, and you had often marveled at his ferocity in battle. However, his uncompromising attitude and stubborn nature could also be grating, and you found yourself growing increasingly weary of his constant need for challenge and conflict.

You loathed witnessing the incessant conflicts that would ensue between Akaza and Douma, often without any clear objective or motive. The clashes were nothing more than an exercise in brutality and bloodshed, fueled by an insatiable appetite for violence that seemed to consume both demons. The ferocity of their battles was matched only by the callousness of their words, as they hurled insults and taunts at each other with the same merciless vigor as their physical assaults. Each encounter was a brutal display of power and dominance, leaving you with a sense of unease and discomfort that lingered long after the dust had settled. It seemed that their mutual animosity had no end, and no purpose beyond the perpetuation of their own pride and arrogance.

As you pondered over the problem at hand, you began to develop an idea on how to reconcile the two opposing sides. With your advanced critical thinking skills and innovative approach to problem-solving, you meticulously crafted a plan that would bridge the gap between Douma and Akaza.

The idea was a risky one, as it would involve keeping each demon unaware of the other's presence, but you felt that the potential benefits outweighed the potential drawbacks.

You spent weeks meticulously planning the excursion, choosing the perfect location and ensuring that everything was in order. You sent separate invitations to each demon, making sure to provide detailed instructions on how to reach the hot springs without crossing paths with the other.

Finally, the night of the event arrived.

Akaza was the first one to arrive at the hot springs. He held a great liking towards you, a young demon who had proven to be loyal and disciplined, traits which he deeply admired.

Although the hot springs were unconventional, Akaza was not about to decline the offer. In fact, he was surprised that you had found such a secluded location, away from humans and in the heart of nature.

As he approached you, Akaza offered a warm greeting and willingly followed your lead. However, he couldn't help but express his suspicions about the sudden invitation. "I must say, you inviting me here so abruptly... it does raise some suspicion," he remarked.

"Well, I guess I just thought it would be nice to catch up."

As you walked towards the hot springs, you couldn't help but feel a little proud of yourself. It wasn't every day that you managed to outsmart a demon like Akaza.

The warm, mineral-rich waters were known for their healing properties, and the opportunity to soak in their embrace was a rare treat. The sound of the rushing water and the lush greenery surrounding the place filled you with a sense of calm and tranquility.

"You could have just said so, and I would have come to see you earlier," he summed up. Akaza let out a contented sigh as he settled into the hot spring after taking his buggy pants off. It was the perfect place to unwind and relax. As he leaned back, he couldn't help but think that you had chosen an excellent spot. He felt grateful to have such a loyal and devoted companion like you.

You pulled off your shirt, feeling the fabric slide off your skin, revealing your naked chest. Then, you unbuttoned your pants, and let them drop to the ground. 

Despite your initial hesitation, you couldn't resist the call of the water, and soon you found yourself joining Akaza. The sensation of the water surrounding you was almost overwhelming, the weightlessness and the gentle currents carrying you along on their own journey. "Akaza?" You swam to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His arm gently wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer to him. He hummed softly and opened his eyes to gaze at you intently. "What is it?”

"We won't be alone, handsome. I invited one more person."

Akaza's expression immediately soured. "Who else did you invite?"

"Akaza-dono! Y/N!" Douma's exuberant voice echoed across the hot springs, causing Akaza to stiffen. Of all the beings Akaza could have gone without seeing, Douma was at the top of his list. All he wanted was to spend some peaceful time with you, without any interruptions.

"Aww... did I arrive too late? I hope I didn't miss out on anything exciting," Douma grinned as he undressed and joined the two of you in the water. "Only Y/N could have come up with such a delightful plan!"

"Good evening, Douma-sama!" You greeted him, letting go of Akaza and swimming to the other demon to place a kiss to his jaw. "I was afraid you won't come."

"How could I refuse you, my dear?" Douma chuckled, nuzzling your cheek before planting a soft kiss on it. "Besides, it has been ages since I last soaked in a hot spring!"

"Guys, I brought the two of you here for a reason," you said, your eyes locking onto theirs. "I'm tired of your constant fighting and bickering. It's time to put an end to this feud. That's all I ask. I don't expect you to become best friends overnight, but I do expect you to try to get along."

Akaza let out an audible scoff, clearly not amused by the suggestion. He had no intention of following through with such a foolish idea.

"Feud?" Douma questioned, his head tilted to the side. "Don't be silly, Y/N. There's no feud between us. Where on earth did you get that idea from?"

You leaned forward, your voice gentle but firm. "I understand that, but you can't let those disagreements fester. You need to sit down and have an honest conversation about what's been bothering you. And most importantly, you need to listen to each other."

"I don't care about his reasons for being bothered. I came here to spend time with you and relax. Alone," Akaza grumbled.

Douma rested his chin on your shoulder and let out a sigh of his own. "I truly don't see what the issue is, my dear. I have no ill feelings towards Akaza-dono. We simply enjoy teasing each other, nothing more."

You slipped your sharp nails into Douma's hair, scratching his scalp lazily while giving a glance to Akaza. "Come here, handsome," you asked him, making the best doe-eyes.

Douma's smile widened as he leaned into your hand, closing his rainbow-coloured eyes, enjoying the affection.  Akaza couldn't deny the comfort of having you close, even if it meant being near Douma. He let out a deep sigh and moved closer to you after cutting the distance, his arm wrapping around your waist from behind.

"Can you at least consider my words, Akaza?" You asked, leaning into his strong hand on your waist.

"Please don't expect me to perform miracles," Akaza shook his head, trying to focus on your scent instead looking at Douma who was way too close to you, as for Akaza’s liking.

Douma let out a contented sound, his smile still intact. "See? We don't fight all the time, as you put it, darling."

"Excuse me, Douma," you began, your voice carefully measured. "I can't help but be reminded of Akaza when I saw the way he carried you with the strong blow aimed at your jaw during the last meeting we all attended.”

Douma maintained his grin, directing it towards you. "Oh, dear Y/N, don't be so dramatic. It's merely a harmless horseplay. Do I appear to be bothered by it?"

"Excuse me, but I have to say something. I understand that you two may not consider your behavior harmful, but I do. And I think it's time you changed the way you speak and act towards each other. And I won't let you go until you both apologize to each other and shake your hands," you folded your arms over your chest, tilting your head to the side. "And I have plenty of time."

"You're being dramatic, Y/N," Akaza said with an eye roll. "I won't even touch him."

Douma let out a soft whine in response. "Ah, what a shame, Akaza-dono! I was looking forward to some fun," he shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I suppose we have more time to relax now."

"Boys!" You whined sadly. "Please? For me?"

Douma pouted and wrapped his arms tightly around you. "But I'm a good boy, I didn't do anything wrong," he protested.

Akaza shook his head and swam away, clearly annoyed by Douma's antics.

Meanwhile, the rainbow-eyed demon sighed and made himself comfortable, pulling you onto his lap. "Don't worry about him. He's just being moody," he said reassuringly.

"Akaza-dono!" You moaned after the other demon and rolled your eyes, rubbing your temples. "Honey, wait here a little, I need to speak with him," you kissed Douma's jaw and swam to Akaza.

Ignoring you until you sat on his lap, Akaza eventually relented and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer against his toned chest.

"You're mad at me, aren't you?"

Akaza didn't bother to look at you as he muttered, "Yes, you brought him here. I don't understand why you would want to be involved with him in any way, but I allow it nevertheless. Just you need to know that I have absolutely no plans to get near this bastard any more than necessary."

You studied Akaza's face carefully, taking in the tension in his features as he spoke of his concerns. His words were measured, but the worry in his voice was palpable. "Are you worried about leaving me by Douma's side?" You asked gently, your eyes never leaving his face. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you knew would be a difficult conversation. "I appreciate your concern, Akaza. But I need you to understand that all I want is for the two of you to get on good terms. I'm tired of the constant fighting and tension between you. And truly, it affects not only me but other Upper Moons as well."

Akaza expressed his disapproval with a sigh. "I have no intention of being on good terms with that annoying, woman-eating creature," he said. "Douma is a poor excuse for a demon, and don't try to manipulate my emotions. It only affects you, not anyone else. I'm perfectly fine with keeping my distance from him."

"For me? Pretty please?" You rested your forehead against the crook of his neck..

With a deep sigh, Akaza rolled his eyes and asked, "What do I get out of it, little one?"

You blinked; you didn't expect him to have any conditions or stuff like that. "What would you like to get?" You asked, playfully tugging on his hair.

"Well, I’m asking you about that. Since you try to force me into interacting with him," Akaza pointed at Douma who just smiled and waved at the two of you. "I am getting lonely here, Y/N-chan!” He sang, showing his perfect fangs in a wide grin.

Before you managed, you laughed involuntarily and waved back at Douma. "Well. Isn't my love enough?" You kissed Akaza’s cheek, slowly moving your hands down his nape, scratching where you knew he liked the most.

Akaza shrugged and kissed your cheek, "Sorry, but your love alone isn't enough to make me want to get closer to him."

You cupped his face in your palms and kissed him as deeply as you could, slipping your tongue past his lips. "Come on, Akaza, be a good boy. I know you are. And it would make me happy."

Akaza acquiesced with a low growl and nodded, releasing a deep sigh. "Very well. Let it be as you wish."

You let a happy squeak, tugging on his hair. "You're the best, you know?"

He pushed your hand away from his hair in annoyance. "If you stop pulling on my hair, I'll consider your pleas. So what exactly do you want me to do with him?"

"I like when you're growing angry," you told him, grasping his hand. "Since you agreed, you two will interact like the good boys you are. And you'll apologize to him, and he'll apologize to you. Come, handsome."

Akaza followed you while squeezing your hand.

Douma, who was sitting in the water looking visibly bored, immediately perked up and started beaming with happiness upon seeing the two of you approaching. "Oh Y/N, Akaza-dono! Finally! I was afraid you both forgot about me!"

"And tell me, how could I have forgotten about my charming lord?" You asked, tapping his shoulder, and giving a significant glance to Akaza.

Instead of giving in to his urge to punch Douma, Akaza took control of his emotions and forced a smile. He apologized for his previous behavior and said, "I'm sorry for being so mean to you, and for punching you, so many times."

"Please don't feel the need to apologize, Akaza-dono," Douma smirked, stretching his arms. "However, since you have, I accept your apology!"

Akaza found it difficult to control his anger and resist the urge to punch Douma's face, with that ugly smirk glued to the other demon's lips.

After their heated confrontation, it was a relief to see that Akaza was willing to swallow his pride and apologize. You knew that it wouldn't be an easy thing for him to do, but you also knew that it was the right thing.

Akaza's deliberate words caught your attention as you observed Douma's facial expressions closely. You noticed a sense of astonishment followed by a guarded sense of acceptance.

"Douma," you said softly, fixing him with a pointed look. "It's time for you, darling."

Douma blinked in surprise as he looked at you. Apologize? He, the nice one, had to say sorry? Nevertheless, he moved closer to the pink-haired demon and wrapped his arms around Akaza tightly, his voice filled with happiness as he said, glaring up at Upper Moon Three, "I'm sorry for ever annoying you! I never meant to do so. You’re my best friend in the end."

Akaza froze in place as Douma wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. His muscles tensed up as he fought the urge to lash out and attack the cult leader.

You smiled, seeing them interacting. You settled into the hot spring, the warm water enveloping your body and easing the tension in your muscles. You closed your eyes, letting out a contented sigh. "I'm proud of both of you, and I want us to enjoy this moment together. Now come on, join me in the water. It's so relaxing, you won't regret it."

Finally, Akaza managed to extricate himself from Douma's embrace and made his way to your side, putting some distance between himself and the other demon.

Douma simply shrugged and casually took a seat on your other side.

You let out a contented sigh as you sank into the warm water of the hot springs, feeling the tension in your muscles start to melt away. But what made this moment truly special was the company of two of your closest friends, who had taken their places on either side of you. "It's like we're in our own little world up here."

You let your head fall back and close your eyes, letting the warm water wash over you. It was moments like these that made all the stresses and worries of daily life fade away.

Douma let out a deep sigh and silently concurred with you. He then linked his arm with yours and rested his head on your shoulder.

Meanwhile, Akaza reached for your hand underwater and grasped it tightly.

You started stroking Douma's head, and could feel the softness of his hair and the coolness of his skin beneath your fingertips. 

You also felt Akaza's fingers interlock with yours as you continued to stroke Douma's head. 

The three of you sat there in silence for a while, the only sound coming from the soft rustle of Douma's hair as you continued to stroke it.

"Yeah, yeah, that was lovely, but how about some one-on-one cuddles now?" Akaza suggested, gently lifting you onto his lap and away from Douma's embrace.

Douma looked at him incredulously. "Hey, that's not fair!"

You were caught off guard as Akaza suddenly pulled you onto his lap. Your body stiffened as you felt the weight of his muscular arms around you. "Baby," you whimpered, your voice betraying your shock as you offered him a glance. 

As he held you, you couldn't help but notice the feel of his powerful arms around you, and the warmth of his breath fanning your neck. You rested your forehead against his in the end.

Douma's arms were folded over his chest, his eyes narrowed as he glared at Akaza. "That's not fair. I want a turn too," he protested.

"Douma, darling..." You whispered, trying to smile at the silver-haired demon.

"What? We were supposed to share," Douma argued loudly, attempting to take you all to himself, pulling on your waist he grasped tightly on.

"Douma!" You whimpered after being pulled on the silver-haired demon's lap. "Akaza! Can you stop arguing, guys?!"

"Who are you to say that? You would probably just take her to your cult and imprison her," Akaza growled, forcefully pulling you back onto his lap.

"You're just jealous," Douma retorted, scowling at Akaza. "I wouldn't do that to her. She's free to make her own choices. And I know you're jealous of weaklings worshiping me."

Akaza tightened his grip around you protectively. "I don't trust you. You have a history of manipulating others for your own gain."

Douma rolled his eyes. "Oh please, don't act like you're any better. We're all demons here, remember?"

You shifted uncomfortably between them, feeling like a piece of property being fought over. "Guys, can't we just enjoy the moment and not argue?" You suggested weakly.

Douma let out a dark chuckle, his eyes glinting with malice as he gazed at Akaza. "I would love nothing more than to see you with your hands all over her though," he taunted, a twisted smirk spreading across his lips.

Akaza's grip on you tightened as he glared at Douma. "You're disgusting. Keep your twisted fantasies to yourself."

You blinked again and cleared your throat, trying to get their attention. "Boys! Stop it, like right now! I'm still here, if you didn't notice?!"

Douma's arms wrapped tightly around you, ensuring that Akaza wouldn't try to take you away again as he pulled you onto his lap. "We both know that, love, it's hard to ignore," he said with a sweet smile, causing Akaza to cringe in annoyance.

"So quit it! Right now!" You tried to wiggle yourself out of Douma's embrace.

He released you with reluctance, his hand giving your head a gentle pat before dropping back to his side.

You slowly rose from Douma's lap, not bothering to cover your nudity with your hands. You could feel both of their eyes on you, tracing every curve and contour of your body with an intensity that made your skin flush with heat.

Furthermore, you felt a surge of anger rise in your chest, and you clenched your fists at your sides. "How dare you," you seethed, your voice low and menacing. "I am not some plaything for you to ogle at! Show some respect!" 

The memories of their objectifying behavior haunted you, and before long, the brush slowed to a stop as tears began to trickle down your cheeks. As the tears continued to flow, you decided to get out of the water. 

When you were fully dressed, you simply left further in the woods.

They both observed you, taken aback by your sudden outburst. It was a rare occurrence for you to display such emotion.

As you stormed off, Akaza became concerned, but Douma simply let out a sigh and sank deeper into the water. "Women can be so dramatic, don't you think?"

Suddenly, Douma felt a sharp tug on his silver hair, pulling him underwater before being released a moment later. As he coughed out the water, Douma grinned and urged Akaza to do it harder next time.”Akaza-dono! I know you can go rougher next time!”

Akaza rolled his eyes and declared, "We're going to find her." He let go of Douma, got out of water, and began to dress himself.

Douma sighed but followed suit, carefully arranging his hair before getting dressed. "Alright, let's go find the drama queen before the sun rises," Douma said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You sat under the shade of a large tree. The air was cool and crisp, the kind that carries the scent of autumn leaves and earth. You had found your favorite spot in the forest, a place of refuge from the demands of the world.

Sitting on your lap was a small Japanese macaque, its soft fur warm and comforting against your skin. The monkey seemed to sense your sadness and curled up closer, as if offering a soothing embrace. You stroked its fur absentmindedly, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The two male demons walked back in silence, the tension still thick in the air.

As they approached you, you turned around and gave them a cold stare. "What do you want?" You asked, your voice laced with bitterness.

Akaza took a step forward, concern etched on his face. "We want to talk to you. Please, come back with us."

Douma stepped up beside Akaza. "We're sorry for what we said earlier. We didn't mean to upset you."

"Just go away," you snapped at them, not even bothering yourself with looking at them.

The demon with rainbow eyes rolled his fan and used it to shoo away the animal from your lap. "Don't be childish, Y/N. Your sudden departure made us worry," he said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Your eyes fixated on the retreating figure of the monkey as it darted through the forest. 

Normally, Akaza and Douma's presence would have caught your attention, but this time you chose to ignore them, pretending as if they weren't even there.

"Oh, don't push us away like that. It's hurtful," Douma remarked, taking a seat next to you. Akaza soon followed, sitting comfortably by your other side.

"You both had already given me a headache," you hissed, not looking at any of them. You shook your head, feeling the weight of their rivalry bearing down on you. "I don't like this, guys. It's not fair to me, and it's putting a strain on our relationships. I don't want to be the cause of this tension between you anymore. That's why I decided I won't talk to any of you ever again. I'm done with your bullshit."

"What if we promise to stop fighting?" Akaza asked, gently taking your hand. "For real this time."

"I appreciate your words, Akaza," you said, your tone neutral. "But forgive me if I don't fully believe in your promise to stay out of trouble with Douma."

"After giving it some more thought, he's right, my dear," Douma added, mimicking Akaza's action by taking your hand. "The last thing I want to do is distress the one I love."

"You both already did," your tone was nothing but a whisper carried by a cold, night wind.

"That's why we came after you, Y/N. We didn't follow you for no reason," Douma  explained.

"We're sorry for arguing and making you uncomfortable," Akaza added, his hand still holding yours.

"Do you forgive us?" Douma asked, looking at you with a hopeful expression.

You sat sandwiched between Douma and Akaza, your mind racing as you tried to process everything that had happened between the three of you. There had been a time when you trusted them implicitly, when you would have followed them anywhere. But that trust had been shattered when they had betrayed it by arguing all the time, leaving you to fend for yourself.

After a long moment of silence, you spoke, "I'm willing to trust you both again."

Both demons exchanged smiles before turning their attention back to you. 

Douma leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your cheek before trailing down to your neck. "My dear Y/N, we're so glad to hear that. We promise to make it up to you," he whispered.

Akaza hummed in agreement, nuzzling his face into your shoulder and placing a few more gentle kisses. "We'll do our best to be better, for you."

"And you really won't be fighting with each other?"

Douma chuckled. "Well, I'll behave, or at least I’ll try to."

Akaza smiled softly, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand. "As will I. And we will work on our differences for your sake."

"I am the happiest demon when you both behave. I have certain feelings for both of you, and I can't imagine losing any of you,” you explained.

They both started to place sloppy kisses on your neck.

"Now that we're all on the same page…" Douma purred. "How about we go back to your cozy little lair and..."

"... continue our little celebration," Akaza finished for him, his hand caressing the curve of your waist.

As your partners leaned in to place soft, feather-light kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, you couldn't help but blink in surprise. It was a small, unexpected gesture, but it sent shivers down your spine nonetheless. You purred quietly, relishing in the sensations that their touch evoked. It was a rare moment of pure intimacy, and you were grateful for every second of it. But as they continued to kiss your neck, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Not for their touch, of course, but for the easy way they seemed to communicate with each other. "You two are so in sync," you murmured, your voice soft and wistful. "It's lovely how you can finish each other's sentences. I already love it. Maybe let's not waste time anymore. I'm in heat.”

[fandomnerd9602]

Rusty Compass

Jack Reacher x Sibling!Reader

The neon sign of the Rusty Compass bar cast a jaundiced glow across Jack Reacher's face. He nursed a beer – his third, probably, judging by the empty bottles lining the counter. Rain splattered against the window, washing away the neon in blurry streaks. Not a bad night for a ghost town, Reacher thought, swirling the last drops of his beer.

Then, the bell above the door jangled. A gust of wind swept in, carrying with it the scent of wet asphalt and teenage angst. A skinny figure stood silhouetted in the doorway, blinking against the sudden brightness. Reacher squinted, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"You lost, kid?" he rumbled, his voice as gruff as his military background.

The figure stepped into the light, revealing a mop of rain-soaked hair and wide, eyes that seemed to hold the weight of the world. It was a young kid , barely sixteen, face pale and drawn. Yet there was a stubborn echo of Reacher's own face in there too.

"Are you Jack Reacher?" the person asked, with a voice barely a whisper.

Reacher raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question. He wasn't exactly in the habit of advertising himself. "Depends who's asking," he drawled, playing along.

The young adult took a shaky breath. "My name is Y/N. Y/N Reacher. I'm your sibling."

The words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. Reacher had no siblings besides Joe, or so he thought. His past was a tangled mess, buried deep within him like a scar. This kid, with their haunted yet familiar eyes, was dredging up memories he'd spent years suppressing.

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken questions. Rain hammered against the roof, a drumming accompaniment to the internal war raging within Reacher. Curiosity battled distrust, a tug-of-war played out in the depths of his gaze.

Finally, he sighed, the sound like a weary sigh of an old mountain. "Get yourself a lemonade, kid," he muttered, gesturing to the bartender. "Let's talk."

The next few hours were a blur of stolen glances and hesitant words. Y/N, it turned out, was the result of an indiscretion, a secret Reacher never knew existed. Y/N spoke of a childhood spent in shadows, a mother's love a fragile shield against a harsh world. They spoke of searching, of yearning for a connection that felt undeserved.

Reacher listened, the calluses on his soul softening with each story. He saw himself in Y/N’s eyes, the same hunger for belonging, the same wariness of trust. It was a mirror he couldn't ignore, a reflection of the man he could have been, should have been.

By the time the bar closed, a silent pact had been forged. Reacher wouldn't turn this scrawny kid away, wouldn't let them wander the same lonely road he once had. He wouldn't be the father the kid never had, but maybe, just maybe, he could be the sibling he never knew was needed.

They stepped out into the rain, the moon a pale smudge behind the thick clouds. The road ahead was still shrouded in mist, but it didn't look like an endless escape anymore. It looked like a shared journey, two Reachers, bound by blood and circumstance, carving their own path through the storm. And for the first time in years, Jack Reacher didn't feel alone.

The Rusty Compass faded into the darkness, leaving behind the echo of unspoken promises and the flicker of a fragile hope. The rain kept falling like a baptism, washing away the past and paving the way for the new. Jack Reacher, the lone wolf, had found his pack. And sometimes, that’s all the shelter you needed from the storm.

[bumblesimagines]

Imagine:

Being visited by Bucky Barnes

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: Gender Neutral! Reader, They/Them/Theirs

~~~

You listened to a mixture of the radio's music station, the news on the television, and the lively city outside your apartment where the honking of cars and overlapping sound of chatter created a song of its own. You spared the TV a glance before returning your attention to the clothes scattered around the bed, sorting through them and folding each article. It still felt odd, in some way, to return to a normal life after years of being kept busy with S.H.I.E.L.D. So many missions, so many close calls, so many enemies. You could hardly recall the distant, fuzzy memories of your life before becoming an agent. It'd all been so different back then. 

Your fingers curled around a small shirt and you raised it up, fondly gazing over the Captain America t-shirt your son had begged you to buy a few weeks prior. Your little reason for leaving the agent's life behind, to ensure he'd never become collateral damage or just another civilian casualty. Still, the news of his existence had been the only reason you left. If it'd been up to you, you would've continued working alongside Nick Fury and the Avengers team. But life forged another path for you. 

With a soft sigh, you folded up his shirt and set it atop his pile of clothes. You scooped them up into your arms and headed toward his bedroom, delicately setting the small tower of clothes on the bed. The sound of the dryer stopped and you hummed quietly to yourself, stepping out of his room and making your way through the apartment to the small laundry room, picking up the basket along the way. You set the basket down and popped open the dryer, crouching down and tugging the warm, dried clothes into the basket until the dryer was empty. You slipped your fingers around the handles and rose, only to flinch at the sight of the figure watching you. The basket slipped from your hands, landing on the ground with a soft thump as you instinctively backed up. Your mind flickered through the various spots where you'd hidden different guns and knives before finally recognizing the man.

"You need a better security system," Bucky murmured, his arms folded over his chest as his gaze trailed over the hallway he stood in. You inhaled deeply, pressing a hand to your chest and feeling your heart thumping wildly, the beginning of a headache creeping in from the scare. 

"Christ, Barnes," You exhaled, rubbing your fingertips over your forehead. "I have a front door."

"Didn't want to start rumors that could get back to your boy." He responded with a light shrug, his vibrant blue eyes returning to your figure. "Cute kid, by the way. It's a good thing he takes after you." 

You pursed your lips and rolled your eyes, noting the way the corner of his lips quirked up into a faint amused smile. "Yeah, whatever, Barnes. Why are you here, anyway? You couldn't have given me a call?" You asked him, picking the basket back up from the floor and stepping out into the hallway. 

"I don't have your number," Bucky said, following you to the living room and arching a brow when you dumped the clothes over the couch. He tore his attention away from the mess to focus on you again and cleared his throat. "I am no longer the Winter Soldier. I am James 'Bucky' Barnes, and you're part of my efforts to make amends. As per my pardon... and therapy sessions, I am to make amends with those I've hurt and fix the things I did as the Winter Soldier."

"You broke into my apartment-"

"The window by the fire escape was unlocked. I'd hardly call it breaking in. Like I said, you need a better security system." You squinted at him. Bucky sighed heavily. "Yes, I broke into your apartment."

"Uh-huh, so, you did that to... apologize? For what, exactly? Shooting at me? Dislocating my shoulder? Nearly breaking my leg? Trying to kill my boss and coworkers?" 

"All- All of that. I... I was in the neighborhood and you were on my list. I thought I'd stop by and apologize for the damage I caused or could've caused." Bucky explained, reaching into the pocket of his coat and pulling out a small notebook. He slipped the pen out from the spiral and flipped through the pages until he stopped on one and crossed something out. With that done, he tucked it back into his coat. "I was actually hoping I could make it up to you."

"Yeah?" You raised your brows at him and began sorting through your laundry, shaking your head lightly at the whole ordeal. "And how exactly are you planning to do that, Barnes?"

"This isn't exactly how I'd do this typically but... I thought I could take you out to dinner."

[mandoalorian]

but daddy i love him!

Based on the song by Taylor Swift.

Javier Peña x F Reader

WC: 1500

Warnings: abusive parents, mentions of slut shaming

Masterlist

Please reblog if you love Javi and/or Taylor!

In the heart of Colombia's tumultuous landscape, Javier Peña found himself entwined in a love affair that defied all logic and reason. He was the seasoned DEA agent, battle-worn and weary, while you were the enigmatic beauty who danced through life with a reckless abandon that both fascinated and terrified him. Your love was a whirlwind, sweeping you up in its tempestuous embrace, defying the boundaries of convention and societal norms. As whispers of disapproval echoed through the streets, you clung to each other, determined to forge your own path.

From the moment you met, sparks flew like wildfire, igniting a passion that neither could extinguish. Javier was drawn to your fiery spirit, your fearlessness in the face of danger, while you found solace in his strength, his unwavering dedication to his cause.

Before you decided to tell your family about your relationship, you and Javier embarked on a journey to your childhood home. The drive was long, the miles stretching out before you like an endless ribbon of asphalt. But with Javier by your side, the miles seemed to melt away, replaced by the warmth of his presence and the promise of a new beginning.

As you pulled up to the familiar house that held so many memories, you felt a sense of trepidation wash over you. Javier reached over and squeezed your hand reassuringly, his touch grounding you in the present moment.

“They— they’ve never supported me, my family,” you admitted, flushing with heat as you stepped up to your porch. It wasn’t so much shame that filled you, than it was regret. You wished you’d told Javier this sooner.

“You are doing the right thing cariño, telling them the truth. Telling them about us. If they don’t like it then that’s on them, but they’ll never come between our love.” Javier brushed his thumb over your jaw and planted a chaste kiss atop your lips.

You hummed and smiled against his mouth, letting yourself linger before pulling away. Javier was right. God, your family drove you crazy. They drove you manic. And you figured, fuck it, if they don’t like you and Javier then that would be it. Fuck them. You were happy and you deserved this.

Together, you walked up the path to the front door, your heart pounding in your chest with each step. The door swung open, revealing the familiar faces of your family members, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity.

And then, as you sat in your childhood home, surrounded by familiar faces, you took a deep breath and prepared to reveal your secret...

But first, you sat down at the dinner table with Javier and your parents. Your father was a newly retired DEA agent and had for sure heard about Javier’s reputation. In fact, he was the one who warned you about Javier in the first place. And now, with his greatest fears realised, Javier was sat at the forefront of the table facing your dad, twirling the pasta around his silverware, idly.

"Mom, Dad, there's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice trembling slightly.

“Let me guess, you’re sleeping with Peña?” Your dad grumbled crudely. “Well, he’s just had about every girl in Bogota, I suppose it was about time he got around to you.”

Javier made a fist but stayed silent. He didn’t have to speak, because you would defend his honour.

“I’m in love with him, daddy.” You said quietly. You weren’t going to fight it. You’d spend your whole life fighting for your parents love and celebration, but now that you had Javi, you didn’t have to anymore.

“You can’t be in love with him. He’s a killer.” Your mother spat.

“Acting like you didn’t marry a killer too, mama,” you quickly countered, narrowing your eyebrows. “I love him.”

With a sleuth of slurs leaving your father’s mouth, about how you were a slut and a disgrace to the family, you decided it was time for you to go.

But not without a bang.

“And there’s something else you should know… I’m having his baby.”

Javier’s eyes snapped to meet yours. Your mother’s complexion greyed and you thought your father might burst a blood vessel. And then, you couldn’t help but smile. You couldn’t hold the joke for too long. You saw your father near cardiac arrest.

“No I’m not! But you should see your faces.” You laughed and Javier felt a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Your sudden burst of laughter was tinged with mania as you stood up, chair scraping against the oak floor, and grabbed your purse.

Your family stared at you in disbelief, their expressions shifting from shock to confusion. But you could see the relief in their eyes, a fleeting glimpse of understanding that you knew would never last.

As you left your childhood home behind, the weight of your deception heavy on your shoulders, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. For you had tested their loyalty and found it lacking, confirming what you had always known deep down.

And as you walked away, hand in hand with Javier, you knew that you were bound together by something far stronger than blood or obligation. You were bound by love, a love that would endure against all odds.

Years passed, and your love only grew stronger with each passing day. Despite the challenges you faced, you stood by each other's side, weathering every storm that came your way.

And then, on a warm summer day, you stood together on a secluded beach, the sun setting in a blaze of orange and gold. With the sound of the waves crashing against the shore as your witness, you exchanged vows of love and commitment, promising to stand by each other for all eternity.

It was just the two of you, alone in your love, with no one else to bear witness to your union. For you had learned that true love didn't need the approval of others, that it was enough to have each other.

And as you danced beneath the stars, lost in each other's embrace, you knew that you had found your happily ever after, against all odds.

[techhiz]

Chained Partners

! this is a series ! i./ii./... __________________________________

Husk's usual haunt in the Hazbin Hotel was the bar. It was a place of solace and familiarity, where he could drown his sorrows in alcohol and avoid whatever madness was unfolding in the rest of the hotel. But today, as he poured himself another drink, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

The familiar crackle of the radio cut through the air, and Husk's ears perked up. He followed the sound, weaving his way through the crowded hotel corridors until he found himself outside a room he'd never been to before. Curiosity piqued, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

What he saw made his blood run cold.

There, standing in the center of the room, was Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon. And beside him stood Y/n, their expression a mix of fear and determination. Alastor's trademark grin never faltered as he held out his hand, making some sort of deal with Y/n.

Husk's heart clenched in his chest as he watched the exchange, a bitter taste rising in his throat. He knew all too well the consequences of making deals with demons, especially one as powerful and unpredictable as Alastor.

"What's going on here?" Husk demanded, his voice sharp with anger.

Y/n's gaze snapped to him, their eyes wide with guilt and fear. "H-Husk, I... I'm sorry, I had no choice."

Husk felt his chest tighten with betrayal. He thought he knew Y/n, trusted them even, but now it seemed they were just like everyone else in Hell—willing to do whatever it took to survive, even if it meant selling their soul to a demon.

But as he looked into their tear-filled eyes, Husk felt a pang of sympathy. They were scared, just like he had been when he first arrived in Hell. Maybe they hadn't fully understood the consequences of their actions.

"Come on, Y/n," Alastor said, his voice dripping with faux sweetness. "Time to seal the deal."

Husk clenched his fists, his jaw tightening in anger. He wanted to lash out, to tear Alastor limb from limb for what he was doing to Y/n. But he knew he couldn't. Alastor was too powerful, and going up against him would only end in disaster.

Instead, Husk watched helplessly as Y/n hesitantly reached out and placed their hand in Alastor's. The deal was done, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

As Alastor disappeared in a cloud of smoke, leaving Y/n trembling in his wake, Husk felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him. Despite everything, he couldn't bear to see them like this—scared and alone.

"Come here," he murmured, wrapping his arms around Y/n and pulling them into a comforting embrace. "It's gonna be okay, I promise."

Y/n buried their face in his chest, their tears soaking his fur. "I'm sorry, Husk," they whispered, their voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to... I didn't know..."

Husk sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of their head. "I know, sweetheart. But now that it's done, we'll figure it out together. I won't let anything happen to you, I swear."

They stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other as they processed what had just happened. Despite the fear and uncertainty that loomed over them, Husk couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. As long as they had each other, they could face whatever Hell threw their way.

And maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to break free from the demons' grasp and forge their own path to redemption.

But little did they know, their private moment of despair and resolve hadn't gone unnoticed. Angel Dust, ever the gossip, had stumbled upon the scene, his eyes widening in shock as he witnessed the exchange between Y/n and Alastor. His first instinct was to rush off and tell Charlie and Vaggie, but as he turned to leave, he caught sight of Husk's haunted expression.

For a moment, Angel hesitated, torn between his loyalty to his friends and his newfound sympathy for the gruff cat demon. He knew Husk would want to know what had happened, but he also knew that seeing Y/n in such a vulnerable state would only cause him more pain.

In the end, Angel made a difficult decision. He would keep Husk's secret, at least for now. But he couldn't shake the feeling that the truth would come out eventually, and when it did, it would shatter the fragile peace of the Hazbin Hotel once and for all.

[milf-harrington]

inspired by @flashyysins

Two days after Hawkins was almost split open, Robin saw a woman pacing in the hospital waiting room.

There were plenty of other people as well, sitting or standing or walking the length of the room in a similar pattern, but there was something about the woman that Robin noticed. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, which she was- it's that there was something familiar about her.

She was in blue jeans and an old-school Hawkins High Letterman jacket, light brown hair twisted up in a claw clip. Robin had never met her before, she'd remember that at the very least, but still.

Something about the angle of her nose or the gentle waves of her hair felt like something Robin had seen before, something she'd be able to find in a crowded room or across a street.

But Robin had somewhere to be, so she shook off the odd feeling, and followed the familiar path to Steve's room.

---

"Hey Stevie."

Steve's smile was tired, but he was looking more lively than when he'd passed out in the waiting room the other day, so she'd take it.

"Robbie, you left me hanging yesterday."

She snorted and dropped into one of the chairs by his bed, swinging her legs over the arm rest and cradling the bag she'd brought with her in her lap. "You're the one who fell asleep during visiting hours."

He rolled his eyes, and she happily noted the colour returning to his skin. "You should be exempt from visiting hours, you're like...essential to my recovery or something."

She laughed to hide the way those words curled soft and warm around her heart, eyes stinging until she blinked it away. The dumbass had almost over-worked himself to the point of no recovery. "'Exempt?' Someone's been reading a dictionary- did one of your children leave theirs behind?"

"Oh fuck you-"

They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Robin was startled to see the woman from the waiting room hovering behind a nurse.

"You have a new visitor Mr Harrington."

Even knee-deep in confused intrigue, Robin couldn't help but dramatically mouth Mr Harrington over her own shoulder, pleased at the face he pulled in retaliation.

And then the door shut, and Steve looked up to find the woman-from-the-waiting room standing at the end of the bed.

Robin saw his brain grind to a halt at the sight of her.

It was silent (well, as much as it could be in a hospital room, what with all the beeping and whirring) as they took each other in, and Robin slowly brought her knees in closer to her chest like it would shield her from the vague awkwardness chewing at her.

And then-

"Fucking hell, Eve." The woman breathed out, white knuckling the bar at the end of his bed.

At the same time, Steve's face scrunched up as he demanded: "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean 'what am I doing here'? You're in hospital!"

"I thought you were in New York!"

"Yeah and then I got a call from Hawkins General that my little brother was dying in a hospital bed! Thank you for keeping me as your emergency contact, by the way."

"Well-" Steve spluttered and then crossed his arms over his chest, wincing at the pressure on his injuries. "Obviously."

Several things clicked into place like undone locks. Steve had almost been too comfortable about "feminine" topics for as long as she'd been an active member of his life- and even slightly before.

(He'd once run out of Scoops to buy her pads when she'd started her period in the middle of a shift. At the time she'd figured he was just trying really hard to beat the still a douche-bag allegations.)

Then there were the sweaters that he wouldn't confess to the origin of, the jokes he'd make about Robin "not being the only woman in his life" that she'd thought were about Nancy Wheeler, the vehement denial that the rom-com collection in the theatre room were his.

And, while Robin hated to enforce gender stereotypes, he'd always had the kind of mean girl cattiness that was usually only forged in teenaged girls and merely rubbed off on others.

Of course Steve Harrington had a sister.

Now Robin understood why she'd seemed so familiar in the waiting room.

"What happened to you?"

Simultaneously, Robin and Steve shifted uncomfortably, meeting each others eyes and coming up blank on both ends.

Steve's sister swallowed, jaw clenched and lip quivering as she look back and forth between them. She seemed suddenly fragile, like Steve after a nightmare, or right before he'd collapsed in the waiting room after carrying Eddie inside.

Steve cracked first. "Lou-"

"Don't fucking lie to me, Stephen. This is the third time you've ended up in hospital since your senior year."

Steve blinked, startled. "How did you-"

"I'm your sister." She seethed, and Robin could see flickers of Steve with an axe in his hand in the arch of her shoulders. "You might have told the hospital not to call but I still have friends in this town. If that Hargrove asshole wasn't already dead-"

"Lou-"

"Don't-"

"It was a serial killer." Robin blurted, drawing Steve's sisters' attention to her. "I don't now if you heard about it, but someone was going around killing teenagers. It started with Chrissy Cunningham- she was a cheerleader? kind of cute in a preppy sort of way, but, um- she was killed in our friends living room and then he sort of got blamed for it because, I mean, it was pretty sketchy but he didn't do it! I promise, Eddie didn't- anyway, there was this whole witch hunt, and two more people died which just sort of made it worse for Eddie and a group of us were trying to, like, clear his name, you know? Because we knew he didn't do it and we didn't want him to get killed next, but then one of our other friends - this girl, Max, she's a riot - she was being targeted by the real killer so we came up with this...really stupid plan to catch the killer but everything went sort of tits up and Eddie and Steve both got, well-" She waved her hands at the bandage around Steve's throat and the bruising around his wrists from the vines. "And Max, she broke her elbow and her knee when she fell, and I think Dustin twisted his ankle? So now Max and Eddie and Steve are all in hospital and Dustin has these crutches that he doesn't want to use but, I mean, Steve always makes him because it's Steve, and we don't really know if Eddie's okay yet but no one's come to tell us he's not so we're still hopeful-"

"Robin."

Robin shut her mouth, and took a deep breath through her nose. Steve's sister was staring at her in the startled sort of awe that Robin was used to seeing when she got going. She had the lungs of a trumpet player, it wasn't hard for her to talk until she forgot where she'd started.

"You fought a serial killer?" Steve's sister - Lou? - asked, and Robin hysterically felt like she should offer up her seat.

Steve, bless him, only nodded. Lou stared, lips pressed into a thin line and nostrils flared slightly.

And then, quite abruptly, she was straightening her back and stepping around the bed to hold out a hand to Robin. "Louisa Harrington."

Robin blinked, and shook her hand. "Robin Buckley."

Louisa nodded, like that made sense, and smiled the same cupids-bow smile as her brother. "The best friend- it's good to meet the other half of my brothers brain. Clearly the better half, considering you aren't the one in the hospital bed."

Steve made an offended noise, and Robin grinned.

[zapreportsblog]

I love the way you write Garrett so much!! 😭 Hope you don't mind another request!

I'd love to see him just loving on his mate🥺😍 showing her off to people, hugging her from behind,laying his head in her lap, forhead kisses aah! I just love it!! 😍🥹🥹🥹

Please and thank you!

Thank you, I tried my best with that character. Ooh I hope you enjoy this one

↱ i need love and affection ↰

➘ summary : as a norman vampire many other vampires think Garrett likes being alone and not being around others, you know - lone wolf type vibes. But that isn’t the case, not the case at all

➘ a/n: breaking this up into parts sorta like how I write my headcanons so one half will tell how they met, him showing her off, hugging her etc

➘ Garrett x reader , twilight x reader

The road stretched out before Garrett, a seemingly endless path winding through unfamiliar territory. He was used to the nomadic lifestyle, traversing different corners of the world in search of adventure and excitement. As a vampire, time was on his side, and he embraced the thrill of exploration.

On this particular day, the sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the landscape. The air was crisp, and the scent of pine trees mingled with the earthy fragrance of the forest floor. Garrett's senses were attuned to his surroundings, a hunter's awareness that kept him alert to every rustle of leaves and distant sound.

As he continued his journey, a flicker of movement caught his eye. In the distance, a figure was approaching—a young woman, (e/c) eyes bright with curiosity as she took in the world around her. Garrett's footsteps slowed as he observed her, an intrigued smile tugging at his lips.

As their paths drew closer, Garrett's senses were inundated with an intoxicating scent—a fragrance that was uniquely her own. His instincts stirred, his heart quickening as he realized what this meant: he had stumbled upon his mate.

The woman seemed to sense his presence, her gaze lifting to meet his. A hint of surprise danced in her eyes, as if she, too, had recognized the significance of this encounter. Garrett couldn't help but feel a connection that went beyond words—an unspoken bond that linked them in ways he couldn't fully comprehend.

"Hello," he greeted, his voice a rich timbre that carried a hint of intrigue.

Her lips curved into a friendly smile, her (h/c) hair catching the sunlight as she responded, "Hello. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

Garrett nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "Indeed it is. I'm Garrett."

"(Y/N)," she replied, her voice warm and welcoming. "Nice to meet you, Garrett."

The moments between them seemed to stretch, the world around them fading as their connection deepened. Garrett found himself drawn to (Y/N)'s vibrant spirit, her energy resonating with his own sense of adventure and freedom.

As they stood there, the forest enveloping them in its natural beauty, Garrett couldn't help but feel that fate had played a hand in this meeting. The chance encounter had brought them together, two souls from different walks of life, connected by an invisible thread that defied logic.

"I don't usually travel alone," (Y/N) confessed, a playful glint in her eyes. "But there's something liberating about being out here on my own."

Garrett's smile widened, his interest piqued. "And what brings you to this part of the world?"

Her gaze shifted to the landscape, her expression thoughtful. "I suppose you could call it a quest for self-discovery. I'm looking for something that resonates with my spirit, a place where I can truly feel at home."

Garrett's eyes held a knowing gleam, his voice soft. "Sometimes, the most remarkable discoveries come when you least expect them."

As their conversation flowed, Garrett and (Y/N) shared stories of their journeys, their experiences, and their dreams. Time seemed to slip away, the world around them fading as they forged a connection that defied the constraints of time and space.

The months had flown by, marked by countless adventures and shared experiences. Garrett and (Y/N) had become inseparable companions, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. Yet, there was one truth that Garrett had kept hidden—a secret that he knew would eventually have to be revealed.

As night descended, casting a tapestry of stars across the sky, Garrett met (Y/N) by the edge of a tranquil river. The gentle sound of flowing water created a soothing backdrop to their conversation. He had chosen this moment to finally unveil his true nature.

"(Y/N)," Garrett began, his voice tinged with a mixture of uncertainty and determination. "There's something I need to tell you."

She looked at him, her (e/c) eyes curious and attentive. "Go ahead, Garrett. You can tell me anything."

Taking a deep breath, Garrett spoke the words that had remained hidden for so long. "I'm a vampire."

(Y/N)'s gaze held a mixture of surprise and intrigue, her expression thoughtful. "A vampire? You mean, like the ones from myths and legends?"

He nodded, his lips curving into a wry smile. "Yes, exactly like those. We're immortal, we have heightened senses, and we need to drink blood to survive."

Her response was surprisingly calm, her eyes holding a spark of understanding. "I've heard tales about vampires before. They're often portrayed as mysterious and alluring."

Garrett chuckled softly. "Well, I can't speak for all vampires, but I do enjoy the allure of the night."

As the conversation unfolded, (Y/N) listened attentively, her open-mindedness a testament to her accepting nature. When Garrett had finished explaining the intricacies of his existence, there was a moment of silence—a pause that seemed to stretch as (Y/N) processed the information.

Finally, she spoke, her voice gentle and earnest. "Thank you for trusting me enough to share this with me, Garrett. I appreciate your honesty."

He smiled, a genuine expression of gratitude. "You're welcome, (Y/N). I felt that it was time you knew the truth."

She looked at him, her gaze softening. "You know, despite this revelation, I still feel the same about you. You're still the same person I've come to care about and enjoy spending time with."

The weight of her words settled within Garrett's chest, a warmth spreading through him that went beyond the physical sensations vampires were capable of experiencing. He reached out, his fingers gently brushing against hers. "Thank you, (Y/N). Your understanding means more to me than you can imagine."

As they stood there, the stars above casting a gentle glow, (Y/N) seemed to hesitate before speaking again. "Garrett, there's something I'd like to share with you as well."

He tilted his head, curiosity in his gaze. "I'm listening."

Her voice held a hint of vulnerability as she met his eyes. "I've felt a connection between us, one that goes beyond friendship. It's as if our souls are intertwined, bound by a deeper bond."

Garrett's heart quickened, his instincts attuned to her words. "What do you mean?"

(Y/N) took a deep breath, her gaze unwavering. "I believe that we're mates, Garrett. There's a sense of destiny that I can't ignore."

The revelation hung in the air, a declaration that resonated with the unspoken emotions that had grown between them. Garrett's smile was a mixture of awe and affection as he reached out, his fingers intertwining with hers.

"(Y/N), you're right," he admitted, his voice holding a note of certainty. "We are mates, connected by a bond that transcends time and space."

As their fingers linked, (Y/N)'s smile mirrored his own, a testament to the depth of their connection. In that moment, they embraced the shared truths that had been unveiled—the reality of their supernatural natures and the undeniable bond that had drawn them together. As the night embraced them, they stood united in a love that was fated to span eternity.

The sun's rays filtered through the dense canopy of trees, dappling the forest floor with patches of light. Garrett had taken to wandering, allowing his thoughts to drift as he relished the solitude of the wilderness. Little did he know that his solitude was about to be interrupted.

The rustle of leaves drew his attention, and he turned to find Carlisle Cullen approaching. The vampire's composed demeanor and kind eyes hinted at the wisdom and experience he had amassed over the centuries.

"Garrett," Carlisle greeted with a nod, his voice carrying a note of warmth. "May I have a moment of your time?"

"Of course," Garrett replied, curiosity piqued as he gestured for Carlisle to join him.

The two vampires found a spot to sit beneath a sprawling tree, the leaves forming a natural canopy overhead.

"I come with a proposition," Carlisle began, his gaze steady. "My granddaughter, Renesmee, is a unique being—a hybrid of vampire and human. She is set to face the Volturi, and we are gathering witnesses to stand on her behalf. I believe your perspective could hold significant weight."

Garrett's brows furrowed as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. "Facing the Volturi is no small matter. What would my presence as a witness entail?"

Carlisle's gaze remained steady, his voice even. "Your experience, your insights into the balance between our worlds, could help tip the scales in Renesmee's favor. I understand that this is a lot to consider, but I believe that your presence could make a difference."

Garrett's thoughts raced as he processed the enormity of the request. The Volturi were a powerful and ancient coven, and to stand against them was to challenge a force that had held sway for centuries. Yet, he also felt a sense of duty—a desire to ensure that justice prevailed, especially for a unique individual like Renesmee.

"I appreciate your offer, Carlisle," Garrett said, his voice sincere. "I'll need some time to think it over."

Carlisle nodded, his understanding evident. "Of course, take the time you need. Just know that your presence could make a significant impact."

As Carlisle departed, Garrett was left with a swirl of thoughts and emotions. The weight of the decision ahead was palpable, and he knew that whatever choice he made would carry profound implications.

Later that day, as the sun began its descent, (Y/N) returned from the marketplace. Garrett watched her approach, his heart lifting at the sight of her radiant smile.

"(Y/N)," he greeted, his voice warm as he stepped forward to meet her.

"Hey," she replied, her (e/c) eyes shining with happiness. "Did you have a good day?"

He nodded, though his thoughts were elsewhere. "I did, but something unexpected happened."

Curiosity flickered in (Y/N)'s gaze. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, Garrett recounted his encounter with Carlisle and the offer he had received to stand as a witness against the Volturi on behalf of Renesmee.

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice earnest, "it's a heavy decision to make. The Volturi are not to be taken lightly, and this could have far-reaching consequences."

(Y/N) listened attentively, her expression thoughtful. When he had finished, she reached out, her fingers lacing with his. "Garrett, I understand the weight of the decision. But remember, you've always been one to stand up for what's right, even when it's not easy. If you believe that your presence could make a difference, then I think you should go."

He regarded her, his heart swelling with admiration for her wisdom and insight. "You truly believe that?"

"Yes," (Y/N) affirmed, her gaze unwavering. "Your perspective is valuable, Garrett. If you can help ensure justice and protect someone like Renesmee, then I think it's a path worth considering."

As they stood there, their fingers intertwined, Garrett felt a sense of clarity settling within him. The decision was daunting, but (Y/N)'s unwavering support and the knowledge that their values aligned gave him the strength to face the challenges that lay ahead.

With a grateful smile, he met her gaze. "Thank you, (Y/N). Your perspective means the world to me."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the world around them, Garrett and (Y/N) embraced the choices that lay ahead—a future where their actions would shape the course of events and the balance between justice and power.

The journey to the Cullens' house was a mix of anticipation and curiosity for both Garrett and (Y/N). As they approached their destination, the atmosphere seemed to shift—a subtle awareness that they were entering a world that was both unfamiliar and filled with intriguing possibilities.

The grandeur of the Cullens' home was matched only by the breathtaking beauty of the surrounding forest. As they stepped onto the grounds, their footsteps muffled by the lush grass, Garrett couldn't help but admire the tranquil splendor that enveloped them.

However, their arrival did not go unnoticed. The Cullens, a family of vampires with unique talents and backgrounds, had sensed their approach. As the doors of the house swung open, the family members emerged one by one, their curious gazes focused on the newcomers.

Garrett's protective instincts flared, his stance subtly shifting as he stood behind (Y/N). He was acutely aware of the scrutiny directed at her—a human among vampires. But he was determined to show that he was her staunch protector, that her presence by his side was inviolable.

(Y/N), on the other hand, seemed unfazed by the attention. Her (e/c) eyes sparkled with a mixture of confidence and warmth as she took in her surroundings. The other vampires' curious glances didn't faze her; instead, she radiated an air of serenity, thriving in the affection and protection that Garrett offered.

Seeing her composure, Garrett allowed himself to relax slightly. He moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he stood protectively behind her. His subtle gesture was both a declaration of his commitment and a silent assurance that no harm would befall her.

The family members observed the scene, their expressions shifting from curiosity to a mixture of approval and respect. They were a clan that understood the complexities of relationships and the bonds that transcended the boundaries of species.

"Welcome, Garrett, and (Y/N)," Carlisle's voice carried a warmth that put everyone at ease. "My adoptive daughter Alice told me your name,” he says addressing (y/n). “We're glad you could join us."

(Y/N) turned her head slightly to smile at Garrett, her fingers instinctively threading through his as she spoke. "Thank you for having us."

As the Cullens led them inside, Garrett's gaze remained steadfast, his protective stance unwavering. He knew that he was in the company of powerful beings, but he also understood that his bond with (Y/N) was a force to be reckoned with—a connection that defied convention and upheld the sanctity of love.

Throughout their visit, the Cullens' gazes would occasionally drift to (Y/N), their curiosity evident. But each time, Garrett's presence behind her served as a silent reminder—a symbol of their unity and the strength they drew from each other.

As the evening unfolded, (Y/N) and Garrett found themselves immersed in conversations, sharing stories and laughter with the Cullens. The initial curiosity had given way to genuine camaraderie, a testament to the capacity for understanding that existed within this extraordinary family.

As the night drew to a close, (Y/N) turned to Garrett, her smile radiant. "This has been quite the experience, hasn't it?"

He nodded, his fingers gently brushing against hers. "Indeed, it has. And through it all, you've remained a beacon of grace and strength."

Her gaze met his, a mixture of affection and gratitude in her eyes. "Just like you, Garrett."

As they exchanged a tender look, surrounded by a family that had embraced them both, (Y/N) and Garrett knew that their bond was unbreakable. The world they navigated together, one that bridged the realms of human and vampire, was a testament to the power of love, understanding, and the unwavering unity that bound them together.

In the midst of the Cullens' grand living room, where the camaraderie of vampires and their unique companions filled the air, (Y/N) found herself engaged in a conversation with some of the Cullen family members. Laughter and stories flowed around her, creating an atmosphere of warmth and connection.

However, her pleasant interaction was interrupted when a new presence approached. The vampire was one of the Roman coven members—confident and charismatic, though his eyes carried a hint of mischief. His gaze landed on (Y/N), a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. "A human, in a room full of vampires. Quite the bold move, my dear."

(Y/N) met his gaze with a mixture of curiosity and composure. She had faced curiosity and comments before, but she was prepared to stand her ground.

Before she could respond, Garrett materialized at her side, his presence a tangible shield of protection. His arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her closer to his side, as he fixed the Roman vampire with a firm glare.

"And what's your point?" Garrett's voice was steady, his tone laced with a subtle warning.

The Roman vampire's smirk widened, seemingly unperturbed by Garrett's demeanor. "Oh, no point at all, my friend. Just making an observation."

(Y/N)'s fingers tightened slightly around Garrett's, her resolve unwavering. She appreciated his protectiveness but also wanted to handle the situation with grace.

Garrett leaned down, his lips brushing against (Y/N)'s forehead in a tender gesture. It was a clear display of his affection and a silent promise of his presence as her protector. As he straightened, his eyes remained locked with the Roman vampire's, his gaze intense.

"Let me make something clear," Garrett's voice was a low, controlled rumble. "This woman by my side is my mate. I would do anything to protect her. If anyone here even thinks about harming her, they'll find out that the Volturi are nothing compared to what I'm capable of."

The Roman vampire's amusement wavered, replaced by a hint of caution in his eyes. He had clearly picked up on the sincerity and intensity behind Garrett's words.

Without another word, the Roman vampire turned and walked away, his jesting tone subdued. The tension in the air dissipated, replaced by a sense of unity and understanding.

(Y/N) looked up at Garrett, her (e/c) eyes filled with appreciation and a soft smile. "Thank you, Garrett. I know I can handle myself, but your protectiveness means a lot to me."

His fingers brushed against her cheek, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I'll always be here to stand by your side, (Y/N). Nothing and no one will come between us."

As they resumed their place among the Cullen family, (Y/N) felt a renewed sense of connection—with Garrett and the understanding family that had embraced them both. In the face of challenges and teasing, their love remained unshakable—a beacon that illuminated the path they walked together, no matter how unconventional or extraordinary it might be.

[quichein-me-softly]

a-maze-ing time w/ sans

(Plot: You and Sans explore a corn maze. The trip is filled with poor jokes and dead ends.)

(author's note: figured i should do something for fall.)

The fall air was crisp, tinged with the earthy scent of dried corn and leaves. You adjusted your jacket and glanced at Sans, whose grin seemed wider than usual as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, giving the entrance sign a dubious once-over.

“so… lemme get this straight,” Sans said, raising a brow bone, clearly amused. “we’re voluntarily goin’ in there, gettin’ lost, and tryin’ to find our way out?”

You laughed, nudging him. "Yes, exactly. It’s part of the fall experience! Besides, it’ll be fun with two boneheads."

You thought for a moment, then added, “Plus, isn’t that the whole point? It is a maze, after all.”

“welp, lead the way, fearless navigator. worst-case scenario, we end up in the middle of nowhere," he chuckled, eyes glinting with that familiar hint of mischief.

With that, you both stepped into the maze. The golden stalks towered above, creating a labyrinthine path that seemed to twist in every direction. Every few minutes, you found yourself at a dead end or doubling back to a path you swore you’d already taken. Sans, however, seemed to find the situation endlessly amusing.

"alright, left or right, partner?" he asked, pausing at a fork in the path.

You squinted down each direction, trying to sense which might be the right way. "Right. I’ve got a feeling about it."

“right it is,” he shrugged, taking the turn with you. Moments later, you both hit a dead end.

Sans let out a mock sigh, “guess your feeling got corralled.”

You burst into a fit of giggles, shaking your head. “Wow, you really don’t stop, do you?”

“it’s all part of the maze-ter plan.” He winked, clearly pleased with himself.

First, he compared you to a lost sheep; then he claimed you two were pioneers, forging your own path where no one had gone before… even though every path had clearly been traveled plenty of times. Between the maze’s twists and turns and Sans' never-ending puns, the thought of finding the exit now felt like another joke.

“hey, we’re makin’ great progress,” he joked as you hit your third dead end in a row. “really corn-ered ourselves there, huh?” He shot you a wink, the pun landing perfectly as you groaned, half-laughing.

By now, the sky had darkened, casting an eerie shadow over the maze. Every so often, a sudden rustle in the corn stalks made you jump, only to realize it was just the wind—or at least, you hoped. Sans, on the other hand, seemed entirely unfazed, his grin a little too wide as he visibly enjoyed your horror.

After another wrong turn, he laughed. “don’t worry, it’s just corn. i’m sure it doesn’t bite. unless…” He leaned in closer, his voice lowering in mock horror, “it’s got a-maize-ing taste for human flesh.”

You rolled your eyes, but the jump scares didn’t let up.

At one point, a particularly creepy scarecrow loomed around the next corner, making you jump back with a startled yelp. You shot Sans a look, only to find him chuckling softly, his hand steadying you as an amused glint sparkled in his eye.

“you okay there? i can take the lead if you’re feelin’ stalked.” He chuckled at his own joke, his chuckle almost as much a comfort as his presence.

“Very funny,” you muttered, but you didn’t let go of his arm, and he didn’t move away either. Instead, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, keeping it there as you both pushed on.

“don’t worry, if any scarecrow tries to mess with you, i’ll make sure they’re out standing in their field as pun-ishment.” He gave you a playful nudge, and you managed a shaky laugh, feeling oddly reassured by his calmness.

Sans tightened his grip around your hand, sensing your unease. “heh. that was a little corny, even for me.” This time, he earned a genuine giggle from you.

With each twist and turn, laughter bubbled up between the two of you. Sans would point out stray corn lying on the ground and make terrible puns.

“what can i say? this maze really leaves an ear-ie vibe!” His voice was soft but warm. You couldn’t help but laugh, maybe a bit too loudly, the sound breaking through the rustling leaves.

The night continued with more wrong turns, a few unplanned scares, and plenty of laughter. Every time you got turned around, Sans would offer his “helpful” directions with a deadpan look, only to lead you to yet another dead end. Still, you couldn’t help but smile—his easygoing presence made getting hopelessly lost feel like an adventure.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the maze twisted again, leading to yet another dead end. Sans placed his hands on his hips, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

"welp, seems like we’re corn-fined. guess we’re just gonna have to make camp here, huh?"

You shot him a look, shaking your head but smiling despite yourself. “I don’t think I’ve ever been lost somewhere this long... with this many puns."

“oh, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience,” he snickered. “'sides, i’m a-maze-in' company, right?”

“You already used that one!”

“whoops.”

You couldn’t argue with that; for all his puns and teasing, you’d been having more fun than you’d expected. With each turn, he found a new way to lighten the mood, and at some point, you realized how much easier it felt to rely on him to keep going.

You groaned, giving him a playful shove. “How much longer do you think this will take?”

Sans simply grinned, and you heard the familiar hum of his magic. “well, if you’re tired of the scenic route, i could, uh, show you a shortcut.”

Before you could ask, he secured his hand around yours. In a blink, the maze was gone, and you found yourself just outside its entrance, surrounded by the distant sounds of festival chatter and lights. The evening chill reminded you just how long you’d wandered in circles.

You shot him a sideways glance, giving him a mock glare as you let go of his hand. “You mean to tell me you could’ve gotten us out of there the whole time?”

“figured you wanted the 'full corn maze experience.'" He shrugged, chuckling. "plus, where’s the fun in takin’ the easy way out?”

“Sans!” you groaned in feigned exasperation, still grinning.

He chuckled, patting you on the shoulder. “aw, come on, you know you loved it.”

“plus, it wouldn’t have been nearly as fun without you around to keep me on the wrong path,” he teased, giving you a mischievous grin as you both exchanged a playful look.

You swatted at his arm in mock offense. “Hey! You’re the one with all the 'helpful' directions!”

“heh, gotta keep things interesting.”

You rolled your eyes, but your grin betrayed you. “Oh yeah, interesting is definitely the word for it.”

He shrugged, hands in his hoodie pockets as you walked side by side. “hey, if you’re lookin’ for predictability, you’re with the wrong skeleton.”

“Guess I’ll take my chances,” you replied, your tone light but sincere.

Sans shot you a quick sidelong glance, a softer smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “lucky me.”

As you both walked away from the maze, the last remnants of your laughter drifted into the night air, the warm glow of the festival lights casting a gentle light over you both. The chill of the evening was no match for the comfortable warmth between you as you strolled, side by side.

[imaginary-polysemy]

Katya’s Death!

CW: Major character death (Katya), angst, death.. ALTAIR THAT BITCH—

Written by Dango 🍡!

Tagging… @happy--prince

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the quiet streets as Katya Lyubov wheeled herself away from Oscar’s house. The familiar weight of her past pressed down on her, but today felt different. She needed this—an escape, a chance to breathe even just for a few minutes. Leaving her phone behind, she thought it safer to keep her movements hidden from prying eyes like the World Serpent, or Anti-Entropy..

As she navigated the winding paths of the park, the rustling leaves accompanied her thoughts, offering a fleeting sense of peace. But as she ventured deeper into the shadows, a familiar sensation began to creep in—an unsettling prickle at the back of her neck. It was a feeling she had learned to trust, an instinct honed through years of danger.

And then she saw them.

Emerging from the trees like wraiths, figures cloaked in darkness surrounded her. Assassins from Anti-Entropy, their eyes glinting with predatory intent. Katya’s heart raced as panic surged through her, but she fought to maintain control. Drawing upon her connection with her puppets, she summoned her main protector, Mashenka, feeling the familiar rush of power surge through her as the puppet came to life.

“Машенка, защити меня!” she commanded, her voice steady, though fear gnawed at her insides.

(“Mashenka, protect me!”)

The battle began, and Katya directed Mashenka with fierce determination. But the numbers were overwhelming, and as the assassins struck, she felt the pain of each blow as if it were her own. It was a connection deeper than mere magic; it was a bond forged through countless struggles and their shared soul.

As she fought, a figure lingered at the edge of the chaos. They watched from a distance, cloaked in shadows, their expression inscrutable. Where was Kotoko when she needed he— Oh. Right.. Kotoko was dead. Katya needed help. She didn’t want to die yet, not before she cleared her name.. or apologizing to Alexsei for how she treated him.. or—

With each strike against Mashenka, Katya felt a visceral pain blossom within her, a heart-wrenching sensation that tore at her very essence. "Нет!" she cried out as her puppet fell, the sound of tearing fabric echoing through her mind like a death knell. The connection was severed, and in that moment of loss, the world around her blurred.

(“No!”)

“Машенка!” The anguish in her voice shattered the stillness of the park. The weight of despair crashed down on her, and she fought back against the assassins, desperation lending her strength. But Altair remained hidden, a silent observer, his gaze unyielding, betraying nothing as chaos unfolded.

(“Mashenka!”)

With one final, brutal strike, Katya’s last connection to her power was shattered. Mashenka lay destroyed at her feet, and the pain that surged through Katya was indescribable—a deep, penetrating agony that made her heart falter. She felt as if a piece of her soul had been ripped away.

In that agonizing moment, she caught a glimpse of a shadow from the corner of her eye. Their face was hidden by a hood, and it chilled her to the core. Who was that? Why weren’t they helping her? A girl in a wheelchair being attacked.?

“Help me!” she cried, but her plea fell on deaf ears. The person did nothing, merely stood as a shadow against the setting sun, a haunting figure in her final moments.

With her strength waning, Katya fought on, swinging her remaining puppets against the relentless assassins. But it was futile. As the darkness closed in, she felt the icy grip of despair tighten around her heart. Altair’s presence haunted her thoughts, a betrayal woven into the fabric of her final breaths.

“Нет! Я не позволю этому закончиться!” she shouted, lashing out one last time, but the assassin’s blade found its mark. Pain sliced through her, sharper than any she had ever known. The world blurred, and she crumpled to the ground, the darkness pulling her under like a tide.

(“No! I can’t let this end!”)

Hours later, the assassins disposed of her lifeless body at the edge of a cliff, dragging her like a discarded puppet, empty and forgotten. They hurled her over the edge, and she plunged into the depths below, the cold water swallowing her whole.

But as her body sank, a flicker of something stirred within her—a whisper of hope and resilience. In the silent depths, she sensed a connection, a bond with certain people that would never be severed, a promise of rebirth. And lingering feelings of betrayal, loneliness and despair…

And far above, Altair remained, a silent guardian cloaked in shadows. He had watched it all unfold, the betrayal of trust mingling with his own secrets. In the aftermath of her loss, his heart twisted with regret, but he made no move to intervene.

As the darkness closed in around Katya, a spark ignited within her, waiting for the chance to rise again, leaving behind the pain of betrayal and the promise of a new beginning.

DANGO’S NOTES: SCREAMING. Now Isa-chan, finish the wholesome. Right now.

[sakurasnowfall]

Imagine Ace lives. Imagine Sabo gets married. The Whitebeard Pirates and the Strawhat Pirates (honestly, probably the Heart Pirates SOMEHOW end up there as well) are all invited. This moment is just with Ace and Sabo feel like these two deserve it. Maybe I will do a version with all three, soon. But for this, there are two ways this could go. Here is first.

Sabo is ls standing in front of the mirror, looking at his reflection. He is wearing a blue and black suit. He is fidgeting with his tie, before looking at his reflection again. This boy is NERVOUS. He hears a knock on the door frame, and sees Ace leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed, wearing his orange hat, black slacks, a white shirt (with the top few buttons undone because...come on, it's Ace) and his red necklace. He grins, walking into the room, probably commenting something like ‟Ya know you're getting married. Not executed, right?‟ Sabo probably rolls his eyes, laughing bit. But that is when Ace sobers, and walks over to stand in front of him. He puts both his hands on Sabo's shoulders, and looks him in the eyes. Then he tells Sabo how proud of him he is. That he is so, so, so grateful both to and for him and Luffy, and that he thinks his little brother and best friend has grown into a wonderful man. Ace hugs his brother tight.......

Sabo probably makes a comment thanking Ace for actually putting on a shirt for once, breaking up the serious moment as the two pull away from the hug with teary laughs. They hear a crash in the distance, and figure the Strawhats have arrived and Luffy is trying to get into the food. They laugh, and Ace leaves to check on Luffy, smiling at his brother before leaving the room.

Here is the second.

Sabo is ls standing in front of the mirror, looking at his reflection. He is wearing a blue and black suit. He is fidgeting with his tie, before looking at his reflection again. This boy is NERVOUS. He hears a knock on the doorframe, and sees Ace leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed, wearing his oranga hat, black slacks, a white shirt (with the top few buttons undone becuase...come on, it's Ace) and his red necklace. He grins, walking into the room, probably commenting something like ‟Ya know you're getting married. Not executed, right?‟ Sabo probably rolls his eyes, laughing bit. Ace walks over closer to him. That is when the firefist is suprised when his brother suddenly throws himself into him. Sabo hugs his brother tight, and thanks him. Ace is SHOCKED for a good moment before he hugs his brother back. ‟What are you thanking ME for?‟ And Sabo thanks him for everything. For being his friend. For being his brother. For him and Luffy helping him forge his own path apart from the nobles. For helping him realize it was possible for him to be free. For helping him fight for that. For encouraging him to follow his dreams both when they were kids, and now. For welcoming him back into their lives so openly when he lost his memory and regained it. Ace's  mind, even now is still getting used to the fact that he deserves to live, and that he has people who love him....so his mind takes a moment to process and accept what his little brother just told him. Was Sabo talking about HIM? His little brother, the right hand of the Revolutionary Army? The chip-toothed, raspy-voiced boy who had grown into a strong, compassonate, intelligent man...thanking HIM. And a few tears fall as he hugs his brother tight ‟Damn sap...you're gonna make me cry ‟ while Sabo lets out a teary laugh against the firefist's shoulder. They break apart, and both take a deep breath, before they hear a crash in the distance. They figure that it's Luffy, trying to get into the food early, and they laugh again before Ace comments that he should go check on their little brother, leaving Sabo with a last pat on the back of brotherly encouragment and a huge, genuine, smile.

[ficsbyuzi]

All the ways lead to you - part 3

Read Part 2

Characters - Aemond Targaryen and Inara Maegyr (OFC) in a modern AU.

Warnings - Slow burn. Mentions of alcohol and smoking. 

Summary - Inara tries to figure out how she feels about everything that happened on her first day at work.

Note - Flashback and internal monologues are in Italics.

Word count - 1593

"He is a man of few words. You'll get used to his personality once you start working with him," Margaery's voice cut through the hustle and bustle of the coffee house.

"He seems hard to impress," Inara shrugged, adding sweetener to her coffee.

"Well, he is a celebrity, a superstar here in Westeros. He meets and works with so many people every day. In his situation, anyone would act stoically while dealing with their staff."

Of course. He looks every bit of a superstar.

"His family descends from the ancient Targaryen royal line and still kind of owns this city."

Oh. Wow. Targaryens of Old Valyria.

Margaery chuckled, noticing Inara's eyebrows shoot up in astonishment and awe.

“Red Keep Production house and studios are half owned by them, so this show is his home production. Have you seen any of his work before?"

So he is The Boss.

“I should have done some homework before coming here." Smiling sheepishly, Inara made a mental note to watch some of Aemond's acting projects over the weekend.

They finished their coffee and she took her leave to attend her second orientation meeting with the on-set medical team. However, she had a hard time focusing on the presentations, her thoughts constantly drifting back to him. 

To the enigmatic Aemond Targaryen. 

Back home, she tried to immerse herself in her chores and her books, but thoughts of him clung to her like a shadow she couldn't shake off.

Although she was left feeling a bit intimidated by his presence, she couldn't help but replay her brief encounter with him in her mind.

His voice still thrummed through each fiber of her being, drowning her in a tantalizing warmth.

He was not around her anymore, yet she could still feel his gaze lingering on her, like an invisible caress.

There was something about him - both unnerving and exhilarating. Intimidating yet inviting. 

An inexplicable pull was drawing her to him. 

Maybe he has the same effect on everyone around him.

Maybe I am merely in awe of a celebrity. 

Yeah that's all it is. 

But since when have I started fangirling over movie or TV stars?

She rolled her eyes at her chattering mind and tried to clear her head by writing in her journal.

I had a good day today. The world of glamor and showbiz is a realm far beyond anything I've ever known. But I need to learn more about how to maintain a professional decorum. It is unlikely that I will ever have the chance to know someone like Aemond Targaryen on a deeper level.

Smiling, she stared at his name on the paper for a moment. Of all the words she had ever written, those were two she never thought she would find in her personal journal. Ignoring the flock of butterflies taking flight in her chest, she continued - 

I'm just an employee. A small cog in the grand machinery of his professional life. Why would he pay any attention to me?

She frowned at her own musings, closing her journal with a sigh. Glancing at her phone one last time, she noticed the emails from both teams in her inbox. Emails that were a reminder of her role as a professional. She was there to work and forge a path to a career she aspired for.

The sky thundered outside, the sound interrupting the chain of her thoughts and bringing her back to her reality once again. 

My first rain in King's Landing. 

As the clouds began to pour, sleep gently flickered her eyes closed. Her mind, hanging between wakefulness and the subliminal, recalled a cherished memory from the past - her father telling her favorite bedtime story about a valiant Valyrian prince and his dragon, the largest in the world.

-

Two months ago.

"You need a drink," Criston Cole, Aemond’s best friend and his personal assistant, remarked pointing a finger at him as he entered his office. He dropped a file onto his cluttered desk, taking the chair across the table.

"It's ten in the morning," Aemond replied, sifting through the pile of documents scattered around, his frustration palpable.

"Your face says it's ten at night."

Aemond sighed deeply, rolling his eyes. Criston chuckled, pulling out a cigarette and offering it to him, who accepted reluctantly. Criston placed one between his teeth too, lighting the cigarettes for both. Taking a long drag, both men leaned back in their chairs.

"This project is vital. It has to work. We have it to get renewed for two more seasons," Aemond said, exhaling a thick plume of smoke through his nose.

"Everything will be alright."

"As long as my uncle sits on the board, nothing will be alright," Aemond muttered, his gaze drifting back to the mess on his desk.

"Why do you worry so much? Your mother and I are doing the best we can."

"That's not enough!” Aemond's voice rose as he slapped the table, causing a few papers to flutter. "Where's Aegon? Why isn't he in the office? I have rehearsals; I shouldn't be doing his work." He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and stood up abruptly. "Call him right now!"

"Aemond, calm down," Criston said, his concern evident in his voice. 

"And this..this pile of papers - why is it on my desk?" Aemond swiped the files off his desk in a fit of rage. "Where are my scripts? Where is the report on the CGI budget?"

One of the folders slid to the edge of the table, its contents spilling out. A document with a photograph of a young woman caught Aemond's eye. Instinctively, he picked it up.

"Do I have to do the hiring too now?” His tone softened a notch as he examined the document - a resume, “Be an HR consultant too?" 

The name on the document read - Inara Maegyr. Bachelor of Medicine. Diploma in Makeup and Prosthetic arts.

"I brought that file. It's a list of shortlisted medicos," Criston explained, stretching out a hand to take it from Aemond, who was still engrossed in the document. "And it wasn't for you to check, anyway."

"Hire her." Aemond handed over the resume he was holding and tossed the rest of the folder aside.

"What? Hire who?" Criston asked, his face contorted in confusion as he took the document from Aemond, who was already lighting another cigarette. "There are interviews and proper processes to follow before the project goes on the floor. I can't just hire anyone..” He paused to check the name on the resume.

 “Inara Maegyr, what's with her?"

Aemond only exhaled curls of smoke in response.

"She seems... interesting," Criston said, raising an eyebrow at the document.

“Hire her, she looks..” Aemond fumbled, but quickly corrected the course, “I mean, she seems suitable for the job.” He flicked his cigarette into the ashtray, watching the embers fade.

“We don't want to lose a talented candidate, do we?” 

“Who's acting like an HR consultant now?” Criston teased him. 

-

Aemond was reclining on a couch in his opulent bedroom, an unbuttoned shirt draping over his frame, a cigarette poised between his fingers. Wisps of smoke swirled around him, as he gazed up the ceiling, lost in his thoughts. 

Thoughts of her.

Her innocent smile. 

A smile that felt like a refreshing mist in the putridness of his life. A simple, unassuming gesture from her, yet it pierced through the shadows that often clouded his days. 

The way her stunning, fire-colored eyes lit up when she approached him with her sweet demeanor, stayed with him. 

Taking a deep drag from his cigarette, he ran a hand through his hair, as he recalled their brief interaction. A smile played on his lips, resurfacing the dimple on his cheek. 

Ever since he had read her resume, he had been curious about the woman behind those impressive credentials. He had been eagerly anticipating meeting her in person.

But upon finding her so close, his words scrambled out of nervousness, and he couldn't even make eye contact with her - an unusual experience for him. Typically, people went speechless in front of him, not the other way around. He couldn't afford to shatter his composed exterior. He couldn't allow her to expose a vulnerability that he rarely acknowledged. 

But now, he was certain that he had driven away the unstained, unadulterated warmth she emanated. Unintentionally, he had intimidated her. 

He wasn't accustomed to being caught off guard by such intense emotions for someone he had just met.

It had been years since anyone had stirred any feelings within him. 

Despite being surrounded by a bevy of attractive business women, actresses, and models at work, he had never felt this way about anyone else, the way he felt about - 

“Inara,” surprised by the unfamiliar sensation of her name on his lips, he realised he had never voiced her name before.

Curiously, he picked up his phone to google the meaning of her name.

A ray of light.

An image of a ray of light piercing through the window of a darkened room closed for too long, surfaced in his mind. 

Sky roared outside, pulling him back into his dimly lit room. The sound of heavy raindrops splattering and clattering against the sophisticated French windows lulled him to sleep.

As he closed his eyes, a soothing petrichor filled his retiring senses, wrapping him in a blanket of tranquility.

The sweet, mellow scent brought back the memory of the moment when their eyes first met.

-x-

Taglist - @zenka69

Part 4

[user777h]

❝𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤❞

In "Fleeing the Pack," two lost souls find hope and refuge in each other, discovering that even in the darkest of places, kindness and compassion can forge a path to a new beginning.

Themes: Fantasy,Paranormal,Adventure,Drama, Romance

Word count: 1037

The moon hung low in the sky, casting eerie shadows through the dense forest. Y/N, her heart pounding, darted between the trees, her breaths ragged and shallow. The night was dark and filled with unfamiliar sounds—rustling leaves, distant howls, and the sinister whisper of the wind. She could still hear the distant snarls of her former pack, hunting her down with relentless determination.

She stumbled over roots and fallen branches, her paws aching from the rough terrain. Fear clawed at her insides, the knowledge that she was far from her pack's territory a constant reminder of the danger she was in. Her legs burned with exhaustion, but she pushed on, desperate to escape the clutches of the pack she had once called home.

"Come on, Y/N, keep going," she muttered to herself, her voice barely a whisper. "You can't let them catch you."

The forest grew denser, the canopy overhead blocking out the moonlight and plunging her into near darkness. She strained her ears, trying to detect any sign of pursuit, but all she could hear was the rapid thudding of her own heart.

Suddenly, a low growl rumbled through the air, freezing her in her tracks. Before she could react, a massive figure tackled her to the ground, knocking the wind out of her. She struggled, kicking and snarling, but her strength was waning. Her attacker pinned her down effortlessly, his growls reverberating through her bones.

"Please," Y/N gasped, her voice trembling with fear. "Please, don't hurt me!"

The weight on her chest lessened slightly, and she dared to open her eyes. Looming over her was a towering werewolf, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. His fur was dark and matted, and his expression was one of cold, calculated menace.

"What are you doing in my territory?" he growled, his voice a deep, rumbling snarl.

"I... I was running," Y/N stammered, her voice barely audible. "I was running from my pack. They... they want to kill me."

The werewolf's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across his features. "Why would your own pack want to kill you?"

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. "I don't know," she whispered. "But I swear, I'm not a threat. Please, just let me go."

For a moment, the werewolf stared at her, his gaze piercing and unyielding. Then, with a huff, he released his grip and stepped back, allowing her to scramble to her feet. She transformed back into her human form, her energy completely spent. She was weak, vulnerable, and utterly terrified.

The werewolf watched her with a mixture of curiosity and pity. "You're not going to survive out here on your own," he said gruffly. "What's your name?"

"Y/N," she replied, wrapping her arms around herself in a futile attempt to ward off the chill.

"I'm Seonghwa," he said, his tone softening slightly. "And you're lucky I found you before something else did."

Y/N shivered, both from the cold and the lingering fear. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I didn't know where else to go."

Seonghwa studied her for a moment longer, then let out a resigned sigh. "Come on," he said, jerking his head towards a narrow path that wound deeper into the forest. "I'll take you somewhere safe for the night."

Y/N hesitated, unsure whether to trust this stranger, but she had no other choice. She followed him, her steps unsteady and her heart heavy with uncertainty.

As they walked, the forest grew quieter, the oppressive darkness giving way to a faint, silvery light. Seonghwa led her to a small clearing where a makeshift shelter stood—a simple structure made of branches and leaves, but it looked safe and welcoming.

"Here," Seonghwa said, gesturing to the shelter. "You can rest here for now. We'll figure out what to do in the morning."

Y/N sank to the ground, her body trembling with exhaustion. "Thank you," she said again, her voice thick with gratitude.

Seonghwa nodded, his expression unreadable. "Get some sleep," he said gruffly. "We'll talk more in the morning."

As Y/N lay down on the soft bed of leaves, she felt a sense of relief wash over her. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt safe. And as she drifted off to sleep, she couldn't help but wonder about the mysterious werewolf who had shown her kindness when she needed it most.

***

The next morning, Y/N woke to the sound of birds chirping and the smell of fresh pine in the air. She sat up, her body aching but her spirit a little lighter. Seonghwa was already up, tending to a small fire and cooking something that smelled surprisingly good.

"Morning," he said without looking up, his tone neutral.

"Morning," Y/N replied softly. She watched him for a moment, unsure how to bridge the gap between them. "Thank you for letting me stay."

Seonghwa shrugged, still not meeting her eyes. "You needed help. Doesn't mean I trust you yet."

"I understand," Y/N said, her voice sincere. "I don't expect you to trust me. I just... I didn't have anywhere else to go."

Seonghwa finally looked at her, his gaze steady and thoughtful. "Tell me more about your pack. Why are they after you?"

Y/N took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "My pack is... ruthless," she began. "They're led by my father, a man who believes in absolute power and control. I never agreed with their ways, and when I tried to stand up against him, he marked me as a traitor. I had to run, or they would have killed me."

Seonghwa listened in silence, his expression unreadable. When she finished, he nodded slowly. "Sounds like you've had a rough time."

"That's putting it lightly," Y/N said with a bitter laugh. "But I can't go back. I won't survive if I do."

Seonghwa nodded again, a spark of understanding in his eyes. "Well, you won't survive out here alone either. Stay with me for now. We'll figure something out."

Y/N felt a surge of gratitude. "Thank you, Seonghwa," she said, her voice filled with emotion. "I don't know how to repay you."

"Don't worry about it," Seonghwa said gruffly. "Just focus on staying alive."

As the days passed, Y/N and Seonghwa grew closer, their bond forged in the fires of shared hardship and mutual respect. Seonghwa taught her how to survive in the wild, and Y/N, in turn, shared stories of her life before the pack turned against her.

Despite his gruff exterior, Seonghwa showed Y/N a kindness she had never known. And as the shadows of the past began to fade, Y/N found herself feeling something she hadn't felt in a long time—hope.

[baldurspeen69420]

Hot Take Time: Lae'zel Addition

So I've been seeing an interesting take float around about Lae'zel's story arc. Not one I necessarily think is wrong, by the way, just one I personally disagree with somewhat.

Basically it goes along the lines of "When Lae'zel learns of the Gith prince, she just trades one blind devotion for another. She needs to be able to forge her own path and stay in Faerun."

Which I think can be a valid reading of her character and the story! It's just an interpretation I feel isn't taking into account all the context around this shift.

Lae'zel is so fucking proud of being a Githyanki. Her people are so important to her, not to mention her culture and the astral plane itself. It's a brutal world but one she's very much into. When she realizes Vlaakith's lies and tyranny over her race and discovers Orpheus, she says a line (paraphrasing heavily) about him being a leader to free the Gith and respect their skills and bodies. Autonomy, freedom for not just herself, but everything she loves.

And there's a time where Lae'zel believes she'll have to abandon her dream of holding a silver sword and riding a red dragon, that she'll never see her home plane again. It's something she's ready to leave behind but not without a lot of sadness. Something she feels Vlaakith took from her. But Orpheus gives her a chance to have this back, Voss grants her the sword she dreamed of wielding since she was a child, but for a greater cause than living and dying as Vlaakith's blade/sacrifice. She gets her chance back and I think there's something kind of beautiful about that.

In my file, Orpheus decided to become a Mindflayer and take on the ultimate sacrifice. At the end, he convinced my character of his misery in this new form and I helped him end his life. It was something he earnestly begged for, he didn't want to be condemned to a life in the shadows as the thing he hated most. I respected his wishes, and in turn, Orpheus gave Lae'zel his dragons and asked her to lead the revolution in his stead.

With this sacrifice in mind, with everything at stake, it just didn't feel right to persuade Lae'zel to stay on Faerun. I just don't see her character being content to leave that dream behind, to be able to live as a truly free person while her people suffer under Vlaakith AND hunted by Vlaakith's forces. How could Lae'zel ever be free when her people aren't?

So I guess ultimately the ending I got was kind of a best of both worlds situation. Lae'zel did get to forge her own path without just switching out figures of worship, in a way. She got to lead this incredible battle for the fate of her kind, and I just can't see her wanting it any other way. She got to rise up as a warrior and leader and I thought that was a really fitting end for her arc personally. Better than just being Orpheus' right hand or whatever would have happened had I become the Mindflayer in his place.

I just like to think she's having a blast in space right now, I dunno. She grew to love our lil patch of dirt, but it wasn't her true home. Maybe it can be someday when the fight is done, but the timing wasn't right.

[capsarcastica]

Dexter Final Season Rewrite

I know I'm a little late to the party. I finally finished watching all of Dexter. I really enjoyed the show, but I can understand why the final season disappointed fans. It's not the worst finale I've ever seen (How I Met Your Mother) but neither does it stick the landing leaving fans satisfied (Friends).

Shows about anti-heroes like The Shield, The Sopranos, and Breaking Bad know that the best finale is the walls closing in on them. Unfortunately, Dexter wasted that story in the second season. Other characters had their suspicions about Dex, but they were dealt with. The finale tries to have a personal story that ties things together, that doesn't quite work. There's a good story idea. So I thought I'd rewrite the final season.

So, if I was in the writer's room this is what I would have rewritten the final season to be.

Since the death of LaGuerta, Debra has embraced being Dexter's partner in crime. She uses him to help clear the filth out of Miami that the law can't get, manipulating the department to help cover for him. Dex worries she might be too eager to help him. She rationalizes that it's dealing with the criminals one way or the other. The other cops notice, but figure she's just forging her own path as lieutenant. Batista secretly notifies Internal Affairs his concerns.

Dex and Deb have started a romantic relationship. They don't tell anyone besides Harrison and Jamie, but it's an open secret at the office. Quinn is bothered by it but Batista and Masuka rationalize that they aren't really related so it's fine. They're a good couple, with Dex being more human and Deb getting control of her life. However, Harrison seems to miss Hannah more than he likes Aunt Deb as his new mother.

The Brain Surgeon begins his rampage in Miami, but all the people he kills are bad. Dex wonders why these people never showed up on his radar. He closes in on the Brain Surgeon only to find him dead by another serial killer. That killer is soon found dead by another killer. It becomes apparent that serial killers are going after each other in the city. Dex becomes worried and grows paranoid that others are following and watching him.

Dr. Evelyn Vogel, the Psychopath Whisperer, is brought in. She throws out hints that she knows about Dex's double life and when confronted says she doesn't fit Harry's Code. She tells Dex that Harry came to her for help with him as a child and she gave Harry the code, essentially becoming Dex's spiritual mother. Dex opens up to her and they bond over talks about Harry.

Deb begins seeing Hannah around town watching her but can't find proof. She thinks she's just seeing things as she's stressed by the job and Hannah still being out there. Eventually, she drugs and kidnaps Deb. Hannah says she's a better match for Dex and mother to Harrison. She's about to kill Deb Bay Harbor Butcher style when the police arrive but Hannah gets away. The police renew interest in the Butcher and whether Hannah is the real Butcher or just copying. The police have officers follow Deb and Dex for their protection.

Dex tries to investigate these psycho killings but struggles with police watching him. Vogel reveals to Dex that all these killers have been her patients. He goes through her files and finds all the killers only kill bad people like him. He finds out that Vogel gave the Code to all these people, essentially creating an army of Killer Killers who all share Dex's MO. He finds Vogel is dying and she's cleaning house by getting her patients to kill each other to cover her own involvement. She never tried to cure anyone, she was molding killers.

Dex soon finds himself fending off other serial killers just as smart as him while trying to find Hannah, who is now following Harrison around. IA investigates Deb finding that she's manipulating investigations about those who would fit Bay Harbor Butcher's MO, who are then disappearing. Hannah is ruled out as the Butcher but earlier suspicions from Doakes, Quinn, and LaGuerta put the spotlight back on Dex. They rerun much of Dex's lab work and find he too has been manipulating the police.

Dex decides Vogel needs his table. However, Hannah drugs Dex and she tells him she wants a family. She says she'll take Harrison to Argentina and expects him to join them. Once Dex recovers, he races to Harrison only to find Jamie drugged and his son gone. At that moment, the Feds bust in and arrest Dex. The police try to argue for Dex, but the line of logic makes too much sense to ignore.

The Feds struggle with hard proof about Dex, as he's covered his tracks well and hidden everything. They confront him about eight seasons of crimes but he plays it cool. He's released but warned he's a person of interest and not go to anywhere. By now, Hannah has taken Harrison far away. Deb tries to use her pull but is suspended pending IA's investigation. More killers turn up dead but now Dex and Deb lack the resources to investigate on their own.

Dex and Deb decide to risk taking his boat to Cuba to find a way to Argentina, using the approaching hurricane as cover. Before he goes, Dex confronts Vogel who reveals she only has two patients left: him and Hannah. They were supposed to take each other out but instead fell in love. He kills Vogel, his newfound mother figure, but a Fed bug captures the whole thing including an admission to being the Bay Harbor Butcher and that Deb is in on it.

Dex and Deb race to the boat and are confronted by Feds. They fire and fatally hit Deb. A distraught Quinn intervenes and Dex uses the moment to get Deb to his boat and take off. They are soon lost in the storm. Deb says a tearful goodbye before dying. Dex realizes true love means sacrifice. Harry sacrificed for him and he must sacrifice for his son. He knows he can't stay with Harrison and that he has one last killer who fits the Code: himself. He puts the boat on cruise control straight into the storm.

After the storm, Dex's boat is found in pieces with no survivors. Everything about the real Bay Harbor Butcher and Psychopath Whisperer are made public. Now lieutenant, Batista has to deal with the fallout of Dex's reveal including reopening all cases Dex worked on and public backlash. In Argentina, Hannah cries seeing the news of Dex's death while Harrison seems happy with his new mommy.

The last scene would mirror the opening titles. Dexter wakes up, makes breakfast, and gets ready. Unlike the happy, sunny version of the titles this scene is dark and gloomy. Dexter looks like a man defeated and the music is more depressing. After the titles recreation, he puts on what looks like his Bay Harbor Butcher outfit and plunges a knife into something. It's revealed to be a deer and he is now a game butcher in the snowy mountains of Alaska.

[boyneptunee]

we made universes out of bitten lips and broken hands on AO3

50,412 words, 8/13 ongoing, time travel, seer!Harry, tomarry.

Harry was rather tired of letting Fate decide own his Destiny. He would forge his own Future with dried tears and bloodied hands even if it killed him.

The consequences of his Time Travel seemed inconsequential at first, until. Until they stared right back at him with vicious eyes.

Exempt from Chapter 8:

"Disillusion us." Tom didn't question him, and as they made their way between the trees the spell fell over them like a blanket.

They walked down the steps of the bridge, and he could feel the physical change in the air.

The cold grew more bitter, more biting as they walked. The trees appeared normal at first glance, but more and more he noticed the crooked branches leaning towards the path, the lack of leaves and the twisted nature to their trunks. The roots seemed to grow almost violently out of the frozen ground and blocked their path in some places, seemly at random and with a mind of their own.

The Forest seemed to breathe in as one, branches moving with no wind in unison, the ambient magic thick and dark.

He could no longer spot the moon between the trees. It was almost too dark to see even a meter in front of them.

Harry confidently waved between the trees, not hindered by the darkness of the night.

The only sound that reached his ears was the snow giving beneath their boots and Harry's cane occasionally hitting the roots of some trees.

Then, up ahead, the sound of hooves raced through. Hushed voices could be heard through the space between trees. Centaurs.

He tightened his hold on Harry, wishing for a second he had turned them around at the bridge.

Centaurs were unfriendly on a good day and particularly murderous on a bad one. And they were deep in their territory. They would not take kindly to the presence of two Wizards, no matter their age.

Harry kept walking seemly without care, almost dragging Tom along.

"They won't see us, Tom. Just keep walking."

"It isn't them seeing us that worries me, darling." He retorted, blue eyes locked on the line of trees towards their left.

"They are searching for another intruder. They have little time for us. We are but small flies in the big scheme of things right now. Come on." This time Harry grabbed onto his elbow and linked their arms, huddling them close together.

Minutes went by like this.

Finally, Harry stopped and changed paths, down the gentle slope of a hill where branches at either side of the path met in the middle and opened up a natural tunnel leading down.

The tunnel opened to a another part of the forest.

The spot was filled with small fireflies flying about. The snow gave away to green grass and moss, and in a few patches flowers of different colours grew proudly in the humid soil.

The magic in the forest suddenly felt gentle. Caring. More pure than it had before. A small oasis in the middle of the dark.

The forest floor seemed to be illuminated from within, green and yellow colours shone bright like a blanket over the space between trees.

It looked like winter hadn't had the chance to touch this part of the forest. Not ever, perhaps.

The more they ventured in, waking through trees and moss and bushes, the more some things started to become apparent.

This seemed to be a frecuently visited place in the Forest. Be it for humans or creatures, Tom couldn't say for sure.

Lanterns had been placed by the foot of the path, lit by an ever lasting flame that cast a bright orange light on their way.

Stone steps led in and out of what seemed to be a small clearing. Small, yes, but big enough for the moonlight to shine right through the canopy of trees above.

Between the old pine trees a different figure appeared. It too seemed to be glowing from within, filled to the brim with magic giving off a bright orange light that illuminated the whole clearing and above, with twisted crooked branches that reached towards the moon. The oak tree stood mostly alone, hanging onto a small cliff edge where it's roots had taken home. Lanterns of all shapes and sizes hanged from it's branches, accompanied by small paper charms that had clearly seen better days. Fireflies danced around, bouncing up and down and around.

Tom Riddle was entranced.

He was breathing in the purest, most beautiful magic he had ever had the chance to feel. It was terribly intoxicating, like drinking an entire bottle of firewhiskey in one gulp and hoping for the best outcome. It was dizzying.

Harry brought them closer to the tree, seemly unaware his companion had been lost and magic drunk to the feeling of sheer power congregated in the clearing.

The green eyed boy let go of his arm, still invisible to each other, before bringing his hands to his shoulders and up his neck. Tom could feel him standing close to him, even if he couldn't see him, he could feel the solid press of his body, the warm breath that brushed his face.

Finally, Harry brought both hands to his neck and urged him down.

Kissing Harry while not being able to see him sounded like a rather difficult feat to accomplish. It was not.

They found each other in the middle, in a tangle of magic and light and the overwhelming feeling of calmness.

They kissed slowly, without rush. They didn't have anywhere they needed to be, anyone they needed to heed to. They just had each other, at that moment.

Tom took a gamble and bit the other boy's lip, and swallowed the gasp that followed.

His concentration on the spell keeping them invisible wavered, before it fell at their feet in a cascade lights.

Their magic mingled together around them in a tune only known to them, soaking in the sorrounding ambient magic and light like a vortex.

The fireflies seemed to agree with the dance, and soon enough the little insects had surrounded them in a show of lights and colours, bouncing in circles.

Looking at Harry's green, green eyes, a tan face framed by white curls illuminated by the magic surrounding them, he couldn't imagine any other place he would rather be.

Their noses brushed together for a moment before their foreheads touched. Tom reached his arms around Harry's waist, bringing him closer still.

He was cold to the touch, as was usual of him. His eyes looked bright, more awake and present than he had been in the past few days. Freakles shone bright in the moonlight, little constellations of their own maping their way across a gentle face. Even his eyelashes had lost their battle against color and turned white.

Tom sighed, content.

He leaned in to kiss him again. And again.

(And again.)

He was the prettiest creature made of Magic in the whole forest. In the whole world, he was sure.