#he walked so Poppy could run and look how fast she is running

[dontworryihaveyourblorbos]

Fuck it, King Peppy analysis.

I see a *lot* of Peppy hate, and I get it, but I also have to break my silence. I really do not think he’s as bad as people say he is. In fact, I kind of like him! “But he lied about the strings!” “But he didnt rescue the snack pack!” “But he lied about Viva!”. And to that I say ladies and gentlemen, let me cook.

1. He lied about the strings. OF COURSE he did. Peppy knew three things: one, like Branch said, the strings coming together leads to fighting. Two, if Poppy knew there were other trolls, she’d immediately apply the cupcakes and rainbows and hugs method until they were besties. Three, the strings and ensuing fight+whatever Poppy was cooking would be too much for the tiny tiny Pop troll population to handle. They can’t fight, so they do what pop trolls do best, hide. That’s exactly what Peppy was trying to do. Next.

2. He didn’t go to rescue the snack pack in the first movie. First of all, mans is ancient. Second, someone needed to stay behind and watch the villagers while they were in Branch’s bunker. He’s not built for long ass physically intensive adventures, but he can run a village and hold authority and keep everything from being trashed completely, which he did. We can safely assume that the bunker was fine after the first movie and not completely destroyed, likely thanks to Peppy. If he hadn’t stayed behind and kept everyone in check, the place would have been uninhabitable. But nah, Peppy kept everyone safe and stable. Hell yeah brother.

3. He lied about Viva. Can you imagine how devastated Poppy would be to learn that she has a sister, only for that joy to be crushed when he has to tell her that said sister is dead? Poppy wouldn’t be able to let it go, especially with her longing to have a sister. Why make her mourn someone she doesn’t know when she doesn’t have to? Why give her that trauma when she, in all reality, is fine not knowing? Because even if it was messed up because she found out, before she found out Viva was alive she was…completely fine. And he said it himself, he was heartbroken. Pop trolls don’t process their feelings, they repress and sing a happy song a little louder than usual. How was Peppy supposed to heal from his own loss and sadness, only to then turn and inflict it on his only remaining daughter, while still in survival mode? He couldn’t. So he didn’t.

Look, I’m not saying King Peppy is perfect or that he didn’t make mistakes. I’m just saying that he did his best, and he’s not a bad character, person, or dad. He raised Poppy to be the amazing Queen she is, he brought his people out of a horrific and dangerous situation and kept them safe, and when he couldn’t protect them anymore he knew his limits and passed the torch on to his daughter while still supporting her, and he went to therapy and began to change his mindsets and heal from everything. He’s definitely not as bad as some people say he is.

One last thing I noticed about him while rewatching TBT. When a Pop Troll is happy, consistently, their ears stay pointed upwards. When a Troll is sad, their ears droop down. And if they’re sad or gray for long enough, their ears droop down permanently. (Cough cough see my Floyd and Branch ear post cough cough.)

Peppy’s ears are the only ones that just…stick out flat. Forgive me, I couldn’t find any good screenshots from tbt.

Not sad, not happy. To me, this means repressed. He wasn’t just chilling in the background like teehee I’ve made no mistakes ever :3. No, he didn’t like that he had to do those things. He had major trauma and probably a ton of issues he was hiding or repressing, and is only just now beginning to work through them. Why only now? Because he’s not in survival mode anymore. Poppy is queen, strings are destroyed, bergens are chilling, okay, now he can begin the healing process.

Sorry for the novel, but I just really like Peppy and I think a lot of people don’t cut him enough slack or give him enough credit. He’s doin his best.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello hello!! I was not expecting requests to be open again so fast, but i am DEVOURING your writing, so i shan't complain!

What about Dogday getting saved by a teenager who’s desensitized to the horrors of the factory? Like of course, they’re perturbed, but aside from initially seeing Dogday(because holy shit), the biggest reaction they’ll give is a cringe and a “eugh” or some other mild exclamation of “that’s fucked up.” Essentially just Dogday interacting with a kid who’s weirdly chill with the circumstances and tries to be silly sometimes despite the persisting horrors.

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!!!

Awe thanks! Have a good day/night too!

.......

"You..you're Poppy's angel..come to save us-"

"Eugh..what the hell happened to you?"

While back in the day, Dogday would've scolded you for using profane language...he finds it understandable considering you discovered him in his....erm..current condition.

The initial shock of seeing him would have anybody from outside the factory deeply disturbed.

But he's surprised that you're not fully freaked out and didn't run away.

Instead you manage to get him out of the Playhouse (while curbstomping a few little critters who tried crawling into his body along the way) and found a safe spot to rest.

Despite his insistence that you should leave him, you point out that he mentioned you saving him earlier.

"When you said "us", I thought that included you, too."

"I-I meant the others. The ones who can still walk..and still have a fighting chance. Look at me, kid. All I'm gonna do is weigh you down."

"....I mean, you are kinda heavy. But I've lifted worse with this grabpack. I got you."

He's confused by how oddly calm you are about everything.

If you were able to get down this far in the facility, you would've had to cross paths with Huggy, Mommy, Catnap, and Miss Delight at some point.

By all accounts, you definitely should've been traumatized at least from seeing all the bloody toys laying around.

Yet you're cool as a cucumber as you try your best to fix him (with assistance from Kissy, Ollie, and Poppy, of course, who are stunned you came out of the Playhouse alive)

Dogday remembers how scared the children were during the Hour of Joy, comforting them as he helped them flee the terror...so to be comforted by a kid now felt strange.

Yet your calm demeanor helps ground him whenever he starts to have a panic attack over Catnap finding him or if he feels like a critter or two is already inside of him, trying to take hold and eat whatever organs he had remaining (but it's just a sensation he feels from time to time).

You snap him out of it by asking rather silly questions.

"What if I stuck a flare in your mouth? Would that deter them?"

"...what? Um...I-I suppose that could work, but hopefully it's not a theory we have to test anytime soon.."

Even if Poppy decided to show you the Hour of Joy tape (which he had to look away from and tried persuading you to do the same), your only reaction is a slight grimace and a simple "damn wtf....you guys think any of those workers were running late or didn't go in that day?"

Dogday is shocked you'd joke at a time like this...but she knows you better and tells him you're just like That(tm).

You do care about them. You do wanna destroy the Prototype and save whoever you can along the way--including him.

It just may take some time for him to get used to your personality.

[themightykatz]

"Missing"

Dogday stirred awake, blinking the sleep from his eyes feeling drowsy and tired.

But as he looked around the room, he suddenly realized that Angel/Hope was no longer in his lap or in bed next to him. A pang of disappointment and worry washed over him as he sat up, his gaze darting to the empty spot where she had been.

Dogday: "Angel...?"

He said to himself. Minutes later, Dogday immediately sat up straight as he stood up and ran out of the room. Dogday barged into the living room, slightly out of breath from running down the stairs so quickly. His heart was beating fast as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He must have looked worried and frantic, as Mommy longlegs, Poppy, and Kissy Missy all immediately turned to look at him, their expressions a mix of surprise and concern.

Poppy: "Whoa, Dogday, what's the hurry? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

Dogday tried to catch his breath, feeling a bit embarrassed at his rushed entrance but still too worried to notice or care.

Dogday: "I-uh... I can't find Angel. I woke up this morning and she was gone."

He spoke quickly, his voice betraying his concern for his wife's whereabouts. The words caused a ripple of surprise and worry among the others.

Poppy: "What do you mean she's gone? She's not in her room or the bed? Do you think she might gone out for a walk or something?.."

Dogday shook his head, feeling a pang of frustration mixed with worry. He started pacing back and forth as he spoke

Dogday: "No, she wasn't in her room. I checked everywhere! I don't think she would have gone for a walk this early without telling me. I'm worried something might have happened to her."

His eyes darted around the room, as if expecting Angel to suddenly appear.

Mommy longlegs: "Oh dear. She always goes missing, we have to find her again.."

Mommy longlegs placed a comforting hand on Dogday's shoulder, sensing his mounting anxiety.

Mommy longlegs: "Don't worry, Dogday. We'll help you look for her. She can't have gone far."

Poppy nodded in agreement, her expression determined. Kissy Missy joined in as well, a look of concern on her face.

Poppy: "We'll check in the entire forest if we have to. Just for Hope!"

————————————————————————————————

Hours passed as the search continued. They scoured every inch of the forest, calling Angel's/Hope's name until their voices were hoarse. They checked every hiding spot, nook, and cranny, but there was no sign of Angel/Hope anywhere. The once hopeful and determined expressions on their faces slowly morphed into worry and despair.

Dogday: "This is impossible... where could she be? We've searched everywhere!.."

Mommy longlegs looked pale and anxious, gripping her spider legs nervously. Poppy and Kissy Missy stood nearby, their expressions solemn.

Mommy longlegs: “We've searched everywhere... I just don’t understand. Where could she have gone?”

Poppy: “Is it possible that she’s been kidnapped or something? I just don't understand how she could have vanished into thin air..."

Kissy Missy looks slightly worried as well.

Dogday: “What are we going to do? We can't just give up... we have to find her!”

————————————————————————————————

The group rushed into Angel's/Hope's room (again) and into the bathroom, only to find Angel/Hope sitting in a bathtub full of bubbles, completely undisturbed and relaxed. The door had broken open, but luckily the bubbles and the water obscured her form from view. All of them stood there in shock, their eyes wide and jaws dropped as they all stared at her in complete disbelief.

But Dogday's reaction was different. He stood there, blushing furiously as he tried to avert his gaze from his wife's nude form hidden beneath the bubbles.

. . . . . . . .

Angel/Hope: ........You guys owe me a new door.

The others stood there, still speechless, their minds struggling to process the unexpected scene. Dogday was particularly flustered, his face still red as he tried to avert his gaze from Angel's form in the bathtub.

Dogday(flustered): “U-Uh... yeah... we'll... buy you a new.. uh.. door. Sorry about that..”

. . . . . . . .

Angel/Hope: ........What are you guys so worried about..

Poppy, Kissy Missy, and Mommy longlegs finally snapped out of their stupor at the sound of Angel's voice.

Poppy: “Angel! We've been looking for you EVERYWHERE! We were worried sick about you! Where were you?”

Mommy longlegs: “We thought something bad had happened to you!”

Angel/Hope ....Oh no. Please don't tell me you searched everywhere except my bathroom.

The others exchanged sheepish glances, realizing that in their panic and worry, they had overlooked one important place: Angel's/Hope's bathroom.

Mommy longlegs: "...Well... the thought crossed our minds.. but we assumed you wouldn't be in here for hours...”

Poppy: “Yeah.. we didn't think you'd be taking a bath for so long...”

Angel/Hope: ..Oh please, I always take baths for hours, sometimes for the whole day.

The others looked at each other, realizing the logic in Angel's/Hope's statement. They all felt a mixture of foolishness and relief.

Mommy longlegs: “Oh... well... that makes sense... why didn't we think to check here sooner?”

Poppy: “Yeah, I guess we were just so worried that we didn't think of the obvious place...”

Dogday was still trying to hide his embarrassment, his face still slightly pink from seeing her in the bathtub.

Angel/Hope: ....But, you guys owe me a new door.

The others all nodded guiltily, still feeling a bit sheepish about breaking down the door.

Poppy: “Yeah, yeah, we know. We'll get you a new door. No problem.”

Mommy longlegs chimed in with an apologetic smile.

Mommy longlegs: “Sorry about that, Hope. We were just so worried about you… We got carried away in our worry and accidentally broke down the door. We didn't mean to ruin your privacy, dear.”

Dogday finally managed to compose himself enough to speak up, still feeling a bit flustered.

Dogday: “Yeah... sorry about that. We'll replace the door as soon as we can. And... um... you know, we thought something bad might have happened. That's why we were looking for you.”

Angel/Hope shifted awkwardly. Why are they just standing there watching her..

Angel/Hope: ....Can you guys.. not watch me in a bathtub..

The others seemed to snap out of their stupor and quickly averted their gazes, realizing they had been staring at Angel/Hope in the bathtub for a little too long. They each mumbled apologies and excuses, embarrassed by their own behavior.

Poppy: “Sorry sorry, we didn't mean to stare.. we were just so relieved to see you're alright that we forgot ourselves for a moment...”

Mommy longlegs: “O-Of course, we'll give you some privacy now... sorry again, dear.”

Dogday was the last to look away, his face still flushed with embarrassment and a hint of lingering attraction. He reluctantly tore his gaze away from her and averted his eyes.

Dogday: “Yeah.. right.. sorry, Angel. We'll leave you to your bath now.”

As the others started to leave the bathroom, Dogday couldn't help but take one last, quick peek at Angel/Hope before he was suddenly pulled away by Mommy longlegs's spider arms.

Dogday(sheepishly): “Hey, let me go-“

He tried to wiggle out of Mommy longlegs's grip, but her spider arms were firmly holding him in place and physically preventing him from looking back.

Mommy longlegs: “No, bad Dogday, no looking at Angel or Hope while she's having her bath.”

Dogday pouted, feeling like a reprimanded child. He stopped resisting and let Mommy longlegs guide him away from the bathroom, feeling a bit frustrated that he couldn't get another glimpse of his beautiful wife.

Dogday: "Fine..."

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

Welp, that's it. Hope this doesn't flop, I've spend hours writing this hehe😅 Angel/Hope is my oc btw.

[whyareyoulookingatmelikethat]

bro the interactions between sprout and toon!reader must be insanee for reader after what happened in think fast. On that note since req are open may we get an aftermath of who picked up reader or a interaction witj normal sprout after the fic? The lore is actially making me go crazy. I need answers

If your still takings reqs of course. Have a good day!

This was interesting to think about! Reader definitely has some trauma, she won't be going on any other runs for a while.

If Twisted Sprout's on the floor though any times past "the incident", she'll have a panic attack and seek out the nearest twisted that isn't him so it can kill her, because she just can't face him, whether twisted or toon.

[19]: Bearing Burden

HELP THIS TURNED INTO MORE OF A POPPY X READER THAN A SPROUT X READER IM SORRY REQUESTER

…And then the galaxies faded away.

…

You awoke with a gasp, gripping at your chest and struggling for air.

…Right. Back here.

You breathed heavily, letting the cool sensation of air fill your lungs again. It was dark. Dark and eerie.

Of course, this was nothing new.

Only Qwel knows how many times you’d arrived here after what you thought could only be described as dying.

You felt a growing pit of despair in your stomach the more time you had to think about what just happened. Your ears rung as you shakily stood, and a massive headache suddenly struck you. You let out a groan.

…Guess all there really was was to just try again, either that or go insane. After all, you couldn’t talk with your companions forever. You’d run out of topics eventually.

Speaking of, where were they?

…Probably in the unfinished rooms section.

You sighed and walked to the left-most side of the room. You struggled with the door a little, but got it open eventually, and closed it behind you. The staircase was immediately encased in shadows. It was pitch-black.

It was kind of annoying in case there was anything you might accidentally step on and slip and fall and-

…Nevermind.

The railing was cold against your hand as you ascended the stairs, the occasional squeak of your hand sliding against the metal echoing through the shaft.

You pushed open the wooden door, nearly slipping, and it closed behind you with a loud thunk.

You squinted your eyes as you were immediately near blinded by the bright lights. Putting a hand in front of the direction of the light, you walked left again, turning around the “reception desk” littered with papers of all sorts. It would have had a hefty layer of dust on it if Tisha wasn’t so damn crazy about cleaning.

Your heart stopped.

“Hey Y/n! How’d it go?”

Your pupils shrunk.

“Y/n? You okay?”

Your breathing quickened.

“Hey, earth to Y/n!”

Your head pounded.

He tried to place a hand on your shoulder, but you jerked back. He stopped, confusion etched all over his face.

With shaky hands, you rushed away from the kitchen and knocked on the door to Poppy’s room.

Comeoncomeoncomeonopenrightnow!!

As soon as Poppy peeked open the door with a little “Hello? Who-” you squeezed yourself in and quickly shut the door behind you, shaking.

“Y/n?? Y/n what’s wrong?”

“Don’t let him in here. Please.”

Poppy’s eyes widened.

“Is there something wrong? Are you okay?”

You stayed silent. She let out a sigh, guiding you to sit on the bed and sitting beside you.

“What happened?”

Your face was pale and your expression cold and empty. You were the looking definition of hollow. It…honestly scared her a little.(Listening to Chaotic Bean Sim music “Day 5” while writing this LOLLL)

Poppy’s eyebrows furrowed, her expression one of nothing but concern.

“Twisteds…”

“Oh…” she sighed.

She raised her arms, holding them out to you.

“...Can I?”

You couldn’t speak, so you just nodded. And it was comforting. It was warm. It was everything you needed.

The tears began to drip, soaking into her pink dress, and after the first few, you couldn’t stop yourself from pouring out the rest.

Poppy had no idea what had happened, she had no idea what was currently tearing your mind and sanity apart. She had no idea who you were even talking about. But she stayed there. For you. Just for you.

[scamanderishredmayniac]

Snapetober 2024! Day 1: Warmth!!

For @superfallingstars Snapetober 2024 prompt for day 1, warmth. This is an AU where Snape has somehow miraculously survived Nagini’s bite.

Severus is aware of movement as he hears long strident footsteps approaching his hospital bed. He knows it’s not Potter, who often tries to muffle his steps in order nodt to disturb his sleep. The only other person visiting would be Minerva, who had been coming daily to check on him no doubt to his irritation. Severus opened his eyes and faced the tall looming figure of Minerva standing by his bed, just as she made to sit down.

“Evening Severus.” She bristled, sitting down on the hard chair by his bed, and pulling out the Daily Prophet newspaper to read. She’d be fool to think any conversation with Severus would be forthcoming. Severus gave no reply but watched her open the paper and flick the pages to where she wanted, and began to read without further comment. Severus watched her for a minute or two, it was always the same routine when she payed a visit. She would greet him, and then open the paper to read in silence.

“Why, did you save me?” He finally asked hesitantly, unsure weather he wanted to know the answer at all.

“Why?” Minerva frowned snapping the paper shut and folding it away, before finally facing him. “Well it was, it was Potter really, I mean Harry had wanted us to go attend to your body, wanted you to have a proper burial and be buried with the other Order members. He told me he would explain once I’d found someone to collect your body. He thought you were dead.” Minerva sighed and rubbed her face, no longer looking at him. She couldn’t face him he noticed whilemi giving her explanation. He knew she hadn’t finished, there was more, he would wait for her to continue when she was ready.

“When I heard you had been bitten, that you had died, I had to see for myself. I gathered a few people and went to the shack with Harry in tow. I didn’t believe him, I didn’t want to believe him. But then when we saw you lying there as Harry had said you would be, I thought, we all thought you were dead. What other explanation was there. But I still wanted to see you up close, before they took you away. Harry and I went closer, he stood by me as I bent down to, I don’t know Severus, to say goodbye. But then as got closer I saw it, just a tiny movement of the chest, rising and falling. So small and soft, one wouldn’t have been able to see it without looking closely. I checked your pulse, it was there, slow and weak, you didn’t have much time, I knew that much at least. I decided to levitate you myself and decided I would take you to the hospital wing, I needed to hurry, time was short. Without waiting for anyone else I began to levitate you and walk quickly away with everyone running after me, as I explained that you were indeed still alive.” Minerva looked to the window opposite his bed in thought, as the memories flooded her mind.

“I knew I had to save you, that I had to do something. I called Poppy and told her to work quickly and swiftly, as we didn’t have much time left. Poppy worked fast to remove the poison, and miraculously somehow was able to reverse any damage to your organs. I was so grateful that we had succeeded. I lost one dear friend Severus, I couldn’t save Dumbledore, but I had a chance to save you. I couldn’t bare losing another one of my dearest friends Severus, I couldn’t bare it if I were to lose you too.” Tears began to slide down her face as she finished her tail.

“What do you mean Minerva, how could you still call me a friend after what I did? I’m the reason you lost your very oldest and very best friend.” Severus choked out with a frown.

“Harry explained everything while Poppy worked to remove the poison, what you did, what Dumbledore asked of you Severus. I know all about that, how Dumbledore died and why it had to be your hand. You did a brave thing Severus. Dumbledore may have been my oldest friend, but best friend? I have many a friend and acquaintances Severus, but I had two very best friends who held a special place in my heart. Yes one of them was Albus Dumbledore, and the other was you. Who else would I ever compete with over the house cup.” She smiled at Severus with fond smiling eyes. “It’s as I said Severus I could not bare to lose you after losing Dumbledore. With the both of you gone, I would have nothing to live for, except the students and this school. But I would have no one else to compete with or banter with, or have scorn me for ruining their day. That is should you still want to stay here at Hogwarts of course, after all you are free to leave and pursue other options if you wished. Your duty to Dumbledore and the school has expired. It’s up to you.” Minerva hesitated watching Snape now for any indication of his thoughts.

“But here at Hogwarts you do know that, you will always have a place to call home, and friends who will be there for you. I will always be here Severus always.”

As McGonagall’s words washed over him, Severus felt a strange feeling take a hold of him. He felt a warmth like he hadn’t felt before, something good and wonderful filling his insides.

“I’m glad I have a friend in you Mini,” Severus whispered using the nickname he’d often used when they were alone, “and as am I to you and I will always be there for you too. I would love to return to Hogwarts, only to beat you for a few more years yet in the house cups of course.” Severus smiled, and for the first time in as long time, the two friends began to laugh like old time, as thought time had not passed between them.

When Minerva finally left the hospital wing, Severus found that warm feeling was still there, stirring and floating within his heart. For the first time in his life, he felt he truly belonged. That he had true and real friends who cared for him, something he’d longed since his childhood. To be loved and wanted, and be surrounded by people he could count on. Severus closed his eyes and savoured that warm feeling and stayed that way for a long time. For the first time in a long time. Severus Snape was happy.

_____________________________________________________________________

Oops! That wasn’t supposed to turn into a little ficlet, it was just suppose to be a short dialogue thing. But my thoughts and fingers carried me away. I hope you enjoyed that and like my picture. I think day 4 might be a little darker. I’ve got a horrible angsty idea for that one, possibly based on Natalie Embruglia’s song torn. But may change my mind. We’ll see. Not sure why I’m thinking ahead when I haven’t even thought of day 2 yet. Eek!! Also I’m doing inktober as well, so these may come a little slowly and may continue after the moth has finished. I’ll do my best.

Ps. It’s not edited so there may be a few mistakes here and there. Sorry about that.

[sallownights]

dress

word count: 2.1k

CW: fluff, making out?,

pairings: sebastian x reader, ominis x poppy

A/N: i like taylor swift. so, yeah, this is based on the song dress. from reputation. bc sebastian is so reputation. my girlfriend had to proofread this😐😐😐

it was getting warmer with the fast approach of summer. while o.w.l.s we’re coming up, the students still spent time outside the castle, enjoying the warm weather.

imelda, poppy, and y/n all decided to take a trip to hogsmeade after their classes on friday.

“professor howin had me stay after for a few minutes, wanted me to help feed some puffskeins." poppy runs to catch up with her friends outside of tomes and scrolls. y/n smiles and says,

"that's alright! i just figured you might’ve been with highwing.” imelda rolls her eyes,

“i swear, you love that bloody bird more than ominis,”

“i- i mean, no, highwing is great, but ominis and i are just friends-“

“sure you are, sweeting. aren’t you supposed to hang out with him tomorrow?”

“well, yes, but it’s not- i’m not-“ poppy stammers.

“okay! let’s go!” y/n grabs her friends hands and starts dragging them to gladrags.

“i don’t want to go dress shopping, y/n,” imelda groans.

“well, i do. my favorite one is starting to fray on the shoulder, so i figured it’s time to buy a new one.” y/n starts looking over the few dresses they were selling. she sees a pastel pink sundress with slightly puffy sleeves. she runs her hands over it, the linen fabric feeling smooth against her hands until it goes down to a built in under bust corset.

she calls over augustus hill, asking if she could try it on. she goes behind a changing screen. when she emerges, showing her friends, poppy gasps and imelda crosses her arms.

“you look beautiful! that color suits you so well!” poppy rushes over to you, taking your hands in hers.

“you look decent.”

“it’s surprisingly comfortable. do you-“ y/n sighs. “do you think sebastian would like it?”

“oh y/n, i don’t see how he couldn’t love it! you look stunning! i would be at a loss for words if i were him.”

“i thought you said you two were just ‘best friends’. if i remember correctly you’ve said that for the past six months.” imelda raises and eyebrow at y/n. y/n’s mouth parts and closes, clearly trying to think of what to say.

did she like sebastian? yeah, of course. more than she could fathom. y/n groans. was she ready to admit that? to her friends, sure. to him? never. y/n sighs.

“well, maybe i don’t want him as a best friend and maybe as something more.” poppy claps her hands together excitedly and hugs y/n. y/n sheepishly returns the hug, a slight blush breaking out on her face.

“are you going to tell him?” imelda says, clearly not wanting to praise the young witch for her confession.

“maybe,” y/n shrugs. ‘absolutely not’ she thinks. “him and i are supposed to hangout tomorrow since poppy is stealing ominis from us.” poppy hits y/n arm playfully.

“you should tell him then! weren’t you supposed to study by the lake? you can have a picnic or something. it would be so romantic.” poppy sighs dreamily.

“okay, enough of this, i’m going to pay and we can go to honeydukes to get whatever you guys want.” imelda raises her eyebrows in a ‘you’re not off the hook’ way. y/n gets changed back into her school uniform.

after a trip to honeydukes and a short walk back to the castle. the imelda and y/n say their goodbyes to poppy who makes her way to the hufflepuff common room and they make their way to the slytherin common room.

walking down the steps to where the room opens up, imelda quickly darts off to her room wanting to rest so she could go off flying tomorrow. sebastian is sitting on a couch in front of the fireplace, presumably studying.

y/n walks over to where sebastian is sitting and plops down on a chair next to him, dropping her bag onto the floor. she leans her head back and closes her eyes, too tired from walking and her explaining to poppy and imelda that she is most certainly not in love.

“well, hello to you too.” sebastian says in a low tone, not looking up from his book.

y/n cracks one of her eyes open and sits up properly.

“hello sebastian, how was your day?”

sebastian smiles and closes the book, placing it on the table in front of him.

“quite well, if i must say. beat leander in crossed wands, again. don’t know why he believes he can win against me.”

“has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly humble?” y/n sarcastically asks.

“yes, loads of times.” sebastian smirks.

“i do believe they may have been dishonest.” sebastian chuckles lowly at her comment.

they sit there in silence for a moment. y/n bringing her knees to her chest and resting her head on her knees, thinking about the boy in front of her. he’d been there for her since she came to hogwarts. while yes, he did expect some things from her, he never gave her the feeling of she has to be something or someone with him. she can just… exist. she almost hated him for it. how safe he made her feel. how carefree she was when he was around. how she blushes every time a flirty comment gets shot her way, followed by a wink. she found herself to be blushing, even now.

sebastian however, didn’t take his eyes off her. he watched as her eyes became blank for a moment. concern etched on his face as y/n stands up, picking up her bag.

“i should be off to bed, don’t want to be tired for tomorrow.” she starts to walk towards her dormitory before she feels a light grip on her wrist. she turns around to see sebastian slightly worried.

“are you alright?” he says, bringing his hand to hers, slowly moving his thumb across her knuckles.

“yes, i think i might just be… tired?" she lied. she was never good at lying to him. truthfully, she was exhausted. mentally, physically, emotionally.

sebastian gave her a soft smile before removing his hand from hers.

“well, sweet dreams then, darling.” he winks at her, causing her cheeks to become a lovely shade of pink.

“goodnight, sebastian.” y/n turns and walks to her room. closing the door, she’s met with imelda’s snoring.

“oh this is going to be a long night.” y/n whispers to herself.

———

the next morning was fairly uneventful, despite imelda waking everyone up in her dorm with her looking for her quidditch goggles.

around noon, y/n walks into the common room in her new sundress and sees ominis on his way out.

“ominis, wait!” y/n runs up to ominis.

“hello, y/n,” he smiles. “what can i help you with?” y/n hands him a book.

“please give this to pop, i forgot to give it back to her yesterday.” ominis takes the book from y/n and tucks it away into his bag.

“i’m sure she’ll be glad to have this back. she wanted to read some of it to me today, i believe.” y/n’s eyes widen slightly.

“you two have fun! i’m going to go study with sebastian.” y/n practically runs out of the common room. her bag full of textbooks. she makes her way past students in the viaduct courtyard and rushes towards the lake.

when y/n arrives she sees sebastian sitting on a blanket with pumpkin juice next to him. she smiles thinking about how his freckles paint his face so perfectly.

“hey,” she says quietly, almost to not disturb him. she sets her bag down and lowering herself down to the blanket.

“hi,” he takes a moment to look at her and while she’s pulling a textbook out of her bag, sebastian takes his hand and holds her arm to get a better look at what she’s wearing. “is that a new dress?” he looks back into her eyes after practically scanning her body.

“oh, uh, yes. i got it yesterday.” y/n can feel heat rising to her cheeks and looks down.

sebastian takes his hand and cups y/n’s chin, making her gaze turn to him.

“you look lovely.” he smiles and drops his hand to find hers. y/n blushes deeper and they stay there a moment, looking into each others eyes. y/n feels as if sebastian can hear her thoughts, or even hear her heart pounding.

“we should, uhm, study.” y/n breaks her gaze first and removes her hand from his. she lays down on her stomach to start going over some transfiguration notes.

“right.” sebastian says, attempting to not sound disappointed from the loss of contact.

after a few hours of studying and the conversation eventually becoming off topic, they lay next to each other talking about the way the clouds look.

“that one looks like a niffler.” y/n points to an abstract looking cloud.

“i swear, you and sweeting are the only witches who like nifflers.” sebastian chuckles. y/n puts her hand down and looks over at sebastian before facing the sky again.

“what do you think pop and ominis are doing right now?” y/n asks sebastian.

“probably snogging.” y/n lightly hits chest with the back of her hand and he grunts softly.

“i don’t think i’m wrong, they clearly really like each other.” y/n thinks for a moment. remembering the smile ominis had before she ran out of the common room.

“i suppose you’re right, but i think she’s just reading him a book.” y/n looks at sebastian again and turns her body to face him. sebastian follows suit, his hands tucked under his head.

“you look really beautiful.” he whispers.

“oh, stop.” y/n goes to turn onto her back when sebastian places a hand on her waist to keep her looking at him.

“i’m serious, you look really really beautiful.” his eyes searched hers as that familiar heat rises to her face.

“sallow, you are the biggest flirt i’ve ever met.”

“just with you.” he winks and tightens the grip on y/n’s waist slightly.

y/n could hear imelda’s voice in her head calling her a coward and just tell him how she feels. then she swears she hears poppy is telling her how much sebastian likes her and to just go for it.

y/n looks down at sebastian’s lips then back to his eyes. his eyes, hazel and stunning. y/n smiles to herself.

“what’re you thinking about?” sebastian’s voice breaks her thoughts. y/n let’s out a shaky breath.

“you.”

“what about me?” sebastian’s eyebrows furrow for a second.

“just, how unfairly handsome and charming you are.”

“yeah?”

“i regret saying anything.” y/n sits up quickly, causing sebastian to sit up too. he takes his hand and places it carefully on y/n’s cheek. his eyes search y/n’s eyes again. looking for some kind of agreement.

“oh, for merlin’s sake-“ y/n brings her hands up to sebastian collar and crashes her lips against his. he’s taken aback for a moment before he melts into the kiss moving his hand to her hair and other around y/n’s waist. he swipes his tongue against her bottom lip gaining access and exploring her mouth with his tongue.

they pull apart after what seems like hours, breathless and faces a little red.

“i, uhm,” y/n starts, “i like you, seb.”

“i can tell,” y/n rolls her eyes when sebastian continues, “i like you too. i think i started liking you ten minutes after i met you.”

y/n giggles and leans in to give sebastian another kiss. this one, less passionate but so tender.

“so, what now?” y/n says giggling. as sebastian wraps his other hand around her waist.

“how do you mean?” sebastian says kissing y/n’s jawline.

“like, what are we?” sebastian sits up again, moving a stray hair out of y/n’s face.

“oh, here, ominis made me practice with him,” sebastian takes y/n’s hands and clears his throat, “y/n, my love, my dearest, would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

“sebastian, my darling, my beloved, it would be my pleasure.” y/n giggles again and sebastian takes y/n’s face into his hands kisses y/n once more before looking out on the sunset. they sit in silence, holding hands, watching the sunset over the black lake. the golden light casting a glow over the new, happy couple.

“they’re for sure snogging.” y/n states.

“oh, absolutely” sebastian chuckles.

[aphrodisiac-siren]

Dynasty of Flames

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen-Royce Reader

Summary: Being born into the most respected and equally feared houses in the realm made people look up to you as if you were a god and the devil himself, in equal measure. People say that when a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin; and when news of the birth of Daemon's firstborn- a girl, spread, people could only wait in anticipation to see which side of the coin faced up during her birth.

Warnings: Incest (duh)

Masterlist

Part 15

It had been a few months since Aemond had run away with Y/N, stealing her away from her own wedding. Over the course of the days that followed, both sides of the family had agreed to a marriage between the two of them. With Y/N now as Aemond's betrothed, she resided at King's Landing in the Red Keep with him while her family stayed at Dragonstone.

Alicent was delighted to, at last, see her son so happy with Y/N and she thanked the mother each day for at last bringing the both of them together.

Aegon too was just as happy, perhaps even more than his mother. He had wanted his brother and Y/N to end up together since they were children. It had gotten so frustrating for him to see them both constantly deny their feelings for one another and he was relieved that the both of them had finally put aside their pride and just admitted they were in love; even if that took the involvement of a witch and lot of teamwork among the green and black children.

It had been years since the Red Keep had been graced with Aemond's laugh; a sound that was like music to Alicent and she had to thank Y/N for it. She used to watch them fondly as they walked through the Godswood, hand in hand, lost in a conversation of their own as if they were the only ones who mattered in the world.

She smiled to herself, eager to have a talk with them regarding the wedding. The both of them were obviously madly in love, there was no reason the wedding should have to wait any longer; perhaps she would discuss it with them on the morrow.

Before she went to her bed to retire for the day and catch some sleep, she went to her husband's chambers first to make sure he was alright especially since his illness was getting worse by the hour.

She poured him a cup of some milk of the poppy, to help ease the pain.

"How is our sweet Y/N doing" the king asked, his voice sounding strained, as if it hurt for him to talk "how are things between her and Aemond"

"They are both rather happy" Alicent informed him with a smile, slightly disappointed at the endearment he used for the princess and for never once addressing Aemond, his own son, the same way "I plan on discussing the details regarding their wedding after we break our fast on the morrow"

"Yes, yes" Viserys sleepily mumbled "a sp-splendid idea"

Once she had pulled the blankets over him, she turned to head out to her own quarters until she heard the king murmur something softly.

"Yes?" she politely asked as she walked closer to him, to better hear what it is he had to say.

"It is you" he said, almost as a whisper, suddenly thinking that it was Rhaenyra he was talking to. With his illness getting worse, he sometimes used to have hallucinations, thinking he was talking to certain people who weren’t even physically present "if I believe it to be true"

"Believe what to be true" she asked, confused "my king?"

"Don't you remember?" he spoke with his eyes still shut "Aegon's dream"

"Aegon? Our son?"

"The prince that was promised"

"I don't understand Viserys" she truthfully told him. Alicent was rather patient with him, never getting irritated or annoyed whenever he broke out into one of his senseless rants.

"To unite the realm against the cold and the dark" he gasped for breath as he spoke "It is you, you are the one"

Alicent took a deep breath. After all these years, he had finally named Aegon as his successor though she was a bit hesitant this time, not sure if she was happy for her son or concerned about how her dear Rhaenyra might take the news. They'd only just become friends once again.

But in the end, a king's word was law.

"I understand" she simply told him before she left.

She would have to have him sign a royal decree on the morrow, stating that he had changed who was to inherit the iron throne after him.

Though things did not go as planned.

She was awoken from her slumber at a rather late hour to be made aware of her husband's sudden demise.

The queen was deeply saddened by the news; she might not have loved him as a wife but she did love him as his queen. And now with him not being able to announce it himself about the line of succession being changed, she and her father took steps to ensure that no one in the castle was to be made aware of the king's death.

The servants who did know, were locked away in the cellars until they took further action.

Alicent had sent for Aemond and told him about the king but requested him to speak to no one of this, not even Y/N. She told him how Viserys had wished for Aegon to be crowned king upon his death bed.

"Mother, what of Rhaenyra?" he asked in a hushed voice, brows furrowed in confusion "what of Y/N?"

Alicent knew Aemond was more concerned with the latter than the former. By crowning Aegon, Y/N would no longer be in line to ascend the throne. It was never formally announced but Aemond had informed her a while ago, that Rhaenyra had chosen Y/N as her successor instead of Jace. Alicent loved the girl dearly and was fully supportive, until of course, this morning when everything changed.

"She will never bend the knee" he told her earnestly.

"She will have to" Alicent sadly told him, taking her son's hands in her own "it was never my wish to supplant Rhaenyra nor take away Y/N's right to the throne. But it is what the king wished for and his word is law"

She then informed him of Aegon's absence from the castle and Aemond immediately volunteered to help find him even though Alicent was hesitant to allow him to go into the city. If gods forbid, something had happened to Aegon, Aemond would be the one who would have to take his place.

"I am his brother" he tenderly spoke, trying his best to provide comfort to his mother "I know his whereabouts far better than anyone else. Besides, I am well versed with the sword; Cole and I will be fine"

Tentatively, Alicent agreed to let him assist Ser Criston in finding Aegon in the city streets.

"Oh but mother," Aemond turned around to face her as he reached the doorway "when Y/N is to be made aware of this, I wish for it to be me who tells her. I do not want her to hear the news from anyone but me"

It had been a few hours since Y/N had awoken from her sleep only to find herself locked in her chambers. She paced around the room, worrying about what was going on. Was the castle under attack? Had someone died? Was she going to die? Was Aemond alright?

Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the doors creaking open and to her delight, her betrothed walked in, looking more glum than usual.

"Aemond, what is happening?" she asked as she walked toward him. To her surprise, all Aemond did was pull her close in a gentle embrace, resting his head on her shoulder, sighing with relief upon feeling her arms around his torso.

"I'm sorry" he kissed her forehead, unaware that it was ordered that his sweet Y/N be locked like some prisoner "I did not expect for you to be locked away, came here as soon as I heard"

"Is everything alright?" she leaned away slightly to look at him. He seemed much more stoic and rigid than usual, his eye refusing to meet hers.

She could tell when she hugged him how tense he was, not easing into the embrace like how he normally would. Even the kiss to the head seemed chased, almost like there was something grave playing on his mind that kept him from relaxing.

Aemond took a deep breath, clenching his jaw tightly which made his cheekbones more prominent.

"The king is dead" he stiffly informed her, his voice sounding as emotionless as he looked.

"What.." Y/N took a step back in disbelief, she hoped that she heard him wrong.

"He died in his sleep last night" he sighed as he went to stand by the fire, leaving the princess standing in the middle of the room. He didn’t know how to tell her this, but he knew he had to and he wanted it to be him she heard it from "in his death bed, with his last breath he told my mother of his final wish. He..."

He heaved a long sigh. There would be no easy way to tell her this.

"Mother wants you to get dressed and join me by the carriages, we are to attend a coronation at the sept" he looked away from her, knowing he wouldn’t be able to face her "of Aegon"

Y/N's gaze snapped toward him at the mention of this.

"Your brother plans to usurp the throne?" the princess marched toward him "Aemond this is treason!"

"The king himself said-"

"Well were there any witnesses?"

"You think my mother would spin a lie?" He turned to look at her, brows furrowed "do you truly think Aegon would steal the throne when he has never had the desire to be king?"

"Then why go ahead with it anyway?" Y/N was more enraged than confused, if the boy wasn't going to take his duties seriously as king, why force him to rule? It made no sense, to take away the throne from the rightful heir and give it to someone who never wanted it to begin with.

"Because it's what the king wanted!"

"Aemond this is madness, Rhaenyra is the rightful heir and you know it" she snapped, her voice going up an octave "the realm swore obeisance to her, your mother and grandfather included"

"Well yes, she was the heir and we all supported her claim" Aemond raised his voice too, patience growing thin "but now the king has chosen a different successor and we much provide the same support"

"You expect me to betray my queen and go against her? To just accept the fact that you plan on putting Aegon on the throne?" The princess scoffed, still struck with disbelief that this was even happening "you do realise that by doing so, you not only dethrone Rhaenyra but me as well?"

"I am next in line to the throne now" Aemond spoke with a serious tone, shoulders pushed back as he informed her of his station with pride "I am to take you as my wife and then perhaps someday, you will be queen"

"Perhaps?" Y/N scoffed with a chuckle of frustration. She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with him "there was never a 'perhaps' for me, I was going to be crowned queen. And as for you, you aren’t next in line; Aegon's sons are"

Aemond heaved a sigh as his gaze lingered on her.

He knew it was hopeless. She would not swear her loyalty to Aegon, not while she still believed that the king never named him heir and especially not when it meant that her claim to the throne would be invalidated.

He clenched his jaw and nodded silently.

"Forgive me then" he muttered lowly before he turned and marched toward the door, flinging it open and quickly shutting it.

The princess tried to run toward him before he could close the door but she was late in getting there. She heard a clicking sound, letting her know that he had locked her inside.

"Aemond!" She yelled as she pounded at the door with her fist "you will open this door right this instant"

"Make sure the princess doesn't leave" he yelled at one of the guards as he walked away from the room "the door is to remain shut until I open it myself"

When Aemond reached the end of the hallway, he ran into his mother who was already dressed in her green gown for the ceremony. She looked at him with an expression that was both sad and concerned.

"Y/N?" she simply said and Aemond understood what she meant.

He simply shook his head with a low grunt and Alicent sighed in defeat.

"I need to speak with her" she said in a low voice, even though she knew that there was nothing she could say that would change the princess' mind.

"I'll wait outside" Aemond gruffly said as he retrieved the key from his pocket, handing it to his mother "I doubt she'll want to speak to me after I locked her in"

Alicent silently took the key from her son's hand, before she made her way to Y/N's chambers.

Aemond, as promised, stood outside patiently.

Alicent hadn’t managed to convince the princess to swear to Aegon, which was expected but she did manage to convince her to accompany them to the sept which took quite some time.

Aemond was surprised that his mother had managed to do it, but he didn’t ask any questions. Alicent just informed him that she would be ready in a few moments and that the both of them should leave for the sept as soon as the princess is dressed.

Aegon seemed to be more miserable about this entire thing in comparison to Y/N. He looked like he would much rather be cleaning dung off the horses' arse than to be in his best attire whilst being dragged away to be crowned king.

He had absolutely no hopes that she might've agreed to attend her future brother-in-law's coronation, but he was taken by surprise when his mother told him Y/N would be present at the sept when they were in the carriage.

By the time Y/N and Aemond reached the sept, the townsfolk were already gathered inside and the royal family stood at the very front, near the alter. When Alicent and Otto looked toward the princess Y/N, they both sighed nervously, exchanging uncertain glances.

She was clad in a red dress with black embellishments. She had adorned a beautifully crafted tiara made from valyrian steel, a symbol of her being the one who should rule and not Aegon. She was wearing the colours of Rhaenyra, making a bold display of where her loyalties lay.

She did not utter a single word when she was ushered to stand at her betrothed's side. She gave him a sharp look and that was all. Helaena, who was stood beside the princess, hesitantly took her hand but relaxed when Y/N gave her a slight squeeze.

"Aegon never wanted any of this" she tried to tell her "none of us did, but mother said-"

"I do not wish to hear anything your mother has told you" Y/N cut her off. She knew she sounded rude but she could care less about their mother when they all were disrespecting her family and herself in a far worse fashion.

Years of being the sweet, compassionate princess and this was what she got in return; a slap in the face.

The reality of everything began to sink in:

Now everyone she loved and cherished would turn on each other and all would burn.

The sound of the trumpets and the drums snapped her out of her thoughts and brought her back to the present.

Aegon, who was still very upset about this whole thing, begrudgingly walked in between a path the king's guard had paved for him, raising their swords above his head as he passed them with a grim expression.

As he approached his family he immediately caught sight of Y/N. His fleeting moment of joy to see the princess, someone he cared for like a sister of his own, standing with his family, vanished the moment he drew a bit closer. His heart shattered when he saw her staring down at him with so much hate in her eyes that he wanted to run up to her and tell her he did not wish to be king, that he would much rather sail away on a ship and live a commoner's life. A single tear rolled down his face when he realised that the one person in this broken family of his, who loved him all these years was now among the ones who hated him the most.

As soon and he climbed the stairs he immediately turned to his left. 

"Y/N I.. " he began but his grandfather was quick to seize him by the arm and drag him toward the septon.

Aegon was not fully present during the ceremony. All he could think about was how difficult life would get from this point onwards. He was no longer a boy, free to do as he pleased. He was now King and quiet possibly the reason behind a war that would rob him of everything he held dear.

Taglist: @ladybug0095 @sahvlren @bunny24sstuff @dellalyra @ellabellabus07 @champomiell @fan-goddess @lilostif16

[kittyball23]

Setting the Mood (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Branch and Poppy have a talk while the gang takes a short break from their road trip

__________________________________________

Branch didn’t need to be told twice.

As soon as a “Take five!” was called out by Tiny Diamond in order to run a check on the caterbus before they went any further, the blue Troll was off, scaling the nearest tree and settling himself on the highest branch. Up there, above everything, he could see far out. From behind him was all the land that they’d covered on their journey so far, and in front of him, all the land that they had yet to cover in order to complete their mission.

Branch was unable to suppress the groan that escaped him as he rubbed at his eyes. The trip itself was not anything too crazy. They didn’t have to be as weary as they had been when he Poppy and the Snack Pack had to hide from Troll-hungry Bergens atop Bridget’s hair. And they did not have any bounty hunters after them, at the ready to steal their music or turn them into Rock zombies. But somehow, the trip was far more exhausting than those combined. Everything just felt like it was happening too fast. He hadn’t seen his brothers in years and now, all of a sudden, they were coming back into his life in the blink of an eye, not even allowing his brain to catch up with it all. The best analogy he could describe it as would be being unwillingly thrown right into a cold pool versus being able to dip a toe and slowly get accustomed to the temperature of the water. Some Trolls could tolerate it, sure, but Branch? He was not one of them.

Definitely not one of them.

What Branch needed was hours upon hours, like he had in his grey days alone in the bunker, so that he could properly ponder this conundrum he found himself in. But this, unfortunately, was time that Branch did not have. All he had to work with was a measly five minutes before he was thrust back into his reality. Well, at least it was something. And so long as those five minutes were not interrupted…

CRACK!

Branch sighed. Too late for that, he supposed.

He turned begrudgingly at the sound of the twig snapping, wondering which hair color he was going to see and the brother attached to it. He was taken off his guard though when that color turned out to be the pink of his girlfriend. Poppy smiled, a little sheepishly he noted, and began to hesitate in approaching him, likely noting how tense he had been.

“Hey,” she said softly. “I’m sorry if I intruded or anything…”

Branch gave her a small smile and shook his head. “No, no, Poppy! You’re good.” To further ensure her, he waved his hand for her to come, patting the place next to him. This time, Poppy did not hesitate, and she quickly made her way over, sidling up next to her boyfriend. Her company instantly eased him some, and he let out a small breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in.

“You okay?” Poppy asked, looking at him.

Branch glanced at her, eyebrow raised. “Do you want a gray-Branch answer, or a blue-Branch answer?”

“Neither,” she said. “Just whatever is your honest answer.”

Branch shrugged. “Okay then. In that case… no.”

Poppy sighed. She expected this, given the eyerolls and scoffs he’d done so far each time he’d reunited with a brother again. Poppy allowed a little silence between them before she spoke again. “I know it’s been hard,” she started, tentatively, “but you know… they’re not all that bad.”

Branch laughed dryly. “Yeah, well, you didn’t live with them.”

Poppy considered this, and after a moment, grinned a little. “You’re right. I didn’t live with them.” She scooted a little closer and nudged him. “So why don’t you tell me something about them, hmm? What’s one thing that you remember?... A good thing?” She added the last part in when he gave her a look, that indicated the obvious they-walked-out-on-me-and-never-came-back grudge he held.

Branch scoffed and crossed his arms, the beginnings of a pout making his way onto his features. “Nothing,” he mumbled despondently.

“Come on, Branch," Poppy urged. "One memory has to be good. You don't have to tell me everything. Just one thing.” Poppy glanced pleadingly at him, her eyes big, her hands tucked under her chin.

Branch sighed. How could he resist? “There was this… one time…”

The Troll had to stifle a chuckle at how immediately his girlfriend’s face brightened, eager to listen to him. “Yeah? What happened?” she asked, barely looking as though she could keep still. She vouched to instead expend her energy in swinging her legs back and forth from their perch.

Branch went on with his story, a little monotonous. “Clay went into Floyd’s things and switched out his black eyeliner with neon green. Floyd got so mad, he started crying. His tears were all green, looked like someone drew with a highlighter on his face.” Branch shrugged. “I guess it was kinda funny.”

“Kind of?” Poppy exclaimed. “That sounds hilarious!” She giggled a little, the sound turning into full laughter when she pictured the scene playing out.

Branch raised an eyebrow at her, wondering how she was able to find the story amusing despite his lack of enthusiasm in telling it, but he couldn’t help giving his own small chuckle, recalling the incident and how it had happened. “Yeah… Floyd got back at him, though. With my help. We took the dye from the liner and put it into Clay’s shampoo. He had green hair for a week before he was able to finally have it wash out.”

Poppy laughed some more, prompting Branch to laugh along with her. “Clay rolled with it, but he did learn that ‘a prankster never reveals his tricks.’” The Troll shrugged. “Guess he doesn’t mind the green ��do now, though.” His gaze trailed down below them to where Clay, Spruce, and John Dory were all involved in conversation. They seemed to be hitting it off quite well, smiles and laughs on their faces. Branch’s expression changed the longer he watched, from a lighthearted smirk to a darkened grimace, almost wistful in its appearance. “Nothing changes what they did,” he muttered bitterly, more to himself than to Poppy.

Poppy felt her heart ache for her boyfriend, and she gently took his hand, weaving their fingers together. “It doesn’t have to,” she whispered, “but that doesn’t mean there can’t be better future for you guys.”

Branch snorted. “That’s easy for you to say. You didn’t actually go through what I went through.”

“I know,” Poppy said, peering down. There was a limit to how much she could understand the experiences he underwent. Her life had been nearly a polar opposite of his. But, when she looked back up at him, though, there was a hint of a sparkle in her eye. “But I’m here to help you through it all now.”

She shifted so that she could take his other free hand with hers, holding both and rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.

Branch felt warmth spread through him, amazed once again at his girlfriend and the sincerity that she exemplified. How did he get so lucky to get someone who cared so deeply about him? He sighed, more in relief this time. “Thanks, Poppy,” he whispered back, his voice quivering slightly with the emotion that overcame him. “I, uh – Thank you.” He wanted to say more, wanted to tell her how wonderful she was, but found that he couldn’t formulate the words.

Branch anticipated a simple, chirpy “you’re welcome!” or “not a problem!” from her, but was further pleased when she smiled sweetly at him and batted her lashes. “I love you, Branchifer,” she said softly, blushing as she did and using that silly little nickname she’d come up with once.

“I love you too, Poppifer,” he replied playfully, also feeling his cheeks grow hot. They started to fall into a comfortable silence, until…

“Ohhh, hmmm, mmm…

You're all I ever wanted,

You're all I ever needed, yeah,

So tell me what to do now,

'Cause I, I, I, I, I, I want you back…”

Branch blinked. “What the…?” He peered around, trying to find the source of the sudden romantic singing and was baffled to find that his brothers had made their way up the tree and were now sitting together on a branch not too far away from them. Clay smirked at him. Spruce gave him a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. John Dory flashed him a smile and gave a thumbs up.

“We gotcha covered, little bro!” he assured.

Branch frowned. He didn’t know whose idea this was, but it was NOT faring well with him. He didn’t need help in his relationship! “You’ve GOT to be KIDDING M – “

“Branch.”

The Troll turned back to Poppy when she called for him. The Pop Queen didn’t seem bothered. She in fact didn’t seem to mind the music at all. Her focus was not centered on it, but, on him. Her beautiful, fuchsia eyes glimmered with affection, flicking with implication from his eyes to his lips. He could feel himself leaning forward involuntarily towards her, trapped under the spell of the moment. Pretty soon, Branch himself started to not even care about the background music. If anything, should he admit it to himself, it was helping set the mood. And while he would’ve preferred not to kiss Poppy in front of his brothers – the Trolls not needing to be privy to such matters – he would not skip out on the opportunity. The serenading continued, and the space between them started closing ever so slowly.

“You're the one I want,

You're the one I need,

Girl, what can I do?

You're the one I want,

You're the one I need,

Tell me what can I do…

You're all I ever wanted,

You're all I ever needed,

So tell me what to do now,

When I want you b – “

BEEEEEEEEEP!!

A loud, long, rather unexpected and ill-timed honk blared from down below, having come from the caterbus. Tiny Diamond, who had remained unaware of the happenings in the tree above him, called out cheerily from the driver’s seat and spoke into the amplifier.

“Branch, Poppy, and the three random dudes, get yourself over back over here! We’ve gotta get our Hustle back on!”

As soon as the sound of the horn had resounded, the brothers’ song had cut off with a yelping cry from each. Poppy and Branch, who were merely less than a fraction away from allowing their lips to even just timidly brush against each other’s, jolted back in surprise, a gasp escaping the pair, soon followed by a mild embarrassment. Another kiss foiled once again, leaving room for awkwardness to creep into the atmosphere.

“W-we, umm…” Branch started, fumbling for words.

“… Should probably head back,” Poppy finished, avoiding looking at him completely and instead fixing her attention anywhere else. The two Trolls then proceeded to scramble back down the tree and beelined it right for the caterbus.

But while Poppy and Branch were feeling awkward, it was an entirely different combination of feelings from the brothers. John Dory, Spruce, and Clay made their way down the tree as well, hanging back for a second as they watched the pink and blue Trolls.

Clay frowned. “Hey, what’s the name that little guy that’s been driving us around?”

“Tiny Diamond,” John Dory answered.

“Tiny Diamond,” Clay repeated to himself, “Yeah, remind me to prank him later. He just ruined everything!”

“Well, we didn’t exactly tell him what we were up to,” JD reasoned, recalling how they had simply made their plan on the fly.

“A kiss woulda been an added bonus,” Spruce said, “but, honestly, I was waitin’ for Branch to pop the rock on her finger!”

Clay gasped. “It’s too soon for that though, isn’t it? What about baby steps?”

Spruce blew a raspberry. “Um, who’s the romance expert here, guys? Hmm?” He gestured to himself in an obvious manner. “ME. Branch took his ‘baby steps’ about two decades ago… when he was in diapers. Now isn’t the time to delay anything. It’s time for the real deal.”

JD nodded, considering this. “You’re right, bro. We all know Branch wants this, and so does his girl!”

Clay shrugged. “I guess it is what it is for now,” he said, knowing that there would at some point be another chance to give their brother the push he so needed. But first…

A sly smile grew on the lime green-haired Troll’s face as his gaze honed in on the small glittered Trolling at the driver’s seat of the caterbus. “Now, about that prank,” he said, rubbing his hands together in a mischievous way…

__________________________________________

A/N: I'm thinking there will be several Broppy almost-kisses scattered throughout the movie ;)

[blueraineshadows]

Brothers Part Three

Garreth Weasley 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️Oscar Weasley

A love rivalry between two Weasley brothers.

NSFW 🔞 Chapter Master List

Chapter Three - A Flurry of Weasley's

The peaceful quiet of the library was soothing, and MC had taken a quiet corner for herself, study books open but untouched as she poured over today's magical symbol puzzle in the Daily Prophet. It was a running competition between her and Sebastian over who could solve them the quickest. She hadn't seen him yet today and wanted to make sure she had solved it before he did. The first one had been easy, but she was stumped on the second one. She was sure she had seen it somewhere before, and annoyingly, she was sure she had been with Sebastian when she had. However, she was not about to give him the satisfaction of running to him and asking. She could do this.

As she racked her brains over the symbol, she got to her feet and moved to study the shelf of books in the alcove behind her, her fingers trailing along the spines as she hunted out the books she had in mind. Ancient Castles of England, Ireland, and Scotland might be useful, and she slipped the book free of the shelf. Her eyes returned to the volumes to seek out a book about Highland history, most notably the old Clan castles and ruins in this area. When she had been exploring last year, scoping out sites for her ancient magic, her and Sebastian had pored over books such as these trying to decipher the strange symbols they came across in the various tombs and caves they had found. She was sure the symbol was going to be in one of these books.

As she spotted a book she wanted high above her, MC went up on tiptoe, reaching up to try and tease the book free from the shelf. She had left her wand on the table with her study books and grit her teeth in annoyance. With a sigh, she turned to go and fetch it, pausing in her step as her eyes met with those of Oscar Weasley as he walked across the library, hands in his pockets. His lips tilted up into a smile when he saw her, and he diverted his path immediately to come and join her. Her heart began to pound, and she clutched the book she was holding to her chest, her eyes locked with his so that she had to tilt her head back as he moved ever closer.

"Hello, MC," he said softly. Gods, his eyes were so pretty. One look at them and her brain was melting, her thoughts sliding until there was only him. Everything else that was sensible was thrown out.

"Hi," she said.

As they stood there looking at each other, her traitorous brain immediately drifted to the saucy book that Poppy had thrust into her hands the other night. MC had not expected the book to be of any interest, but when she had begun to read, she had never flipped the pages of a novel so fast. Her eyes had devoured the words, her cheeks growing hotter and hotter as corsets were busted open and men reduced women to flustered, panting messes on silken sheets. It had been easy to picture Oscar as the hero of the story as she read after the tingles he had inspired on her skin whilst on that broom. Her physical reaction to Oscar was becoming more and more a thing as she read on, the actions of the characters in this raunchy story making her body burn and ache in ways that made her wriggle uncomfortably under her blankets . Standing here before Oscar now, her cheeks flooded with colour, and words had dried up in her throat. Her pathetic little 'Hi' made her want to cringe.

"Studying, or a little light reading?" He asked.

MC gaped at him, her mind still in the gutter, wondering how in Merlin's name he could possibly know that she was thinking about saucy books. Then he raised an eyebrow and pointed to the book in her arms. She glanced down.

"Oh! This?" She chuckled. "I erm...well, I'm trying to solve the magical symbol puzzle in the Daily Prophet, and I thought this might help."

"I see," he said. He reached out and plucked the book from her hands, turning it over to read the title. "Would you like some help?"

Not asking Sebastian for help had been a matter of pride, but Oscar? Would that be so bad? Her eyes drifted up to the book that she had been trying to reach just now, and she bit her lip. "How about fetching Highland Castles and Clans for me? Can you reach?"

He smirked and stepped even closer towards her, his cologne swirling around her as he reached up, his fingers teasing the book free easily from the shelf. He held it out towards her but didn't step back. MC put her hand on the book and tugged, but he didn't let go. Her eyes lifted to his in confusion, meeting with a gaze that was twinkling with mischief. "How about a trade?"

"What kind of trade?" She asked suspiciously. She held onto the book still, her tummy flipping madly at the way he was looking at her.

"What's it worth?" He whispered.

MC felt something like excitement flutter in her tummy. Her chest felt hot and tight at the suggestive undertone to that whisper. She had to force that little flutter down, well aware that this was a dangerous game. She narrowed her eyes a little. "Are you teasing me, Oscar Weasley?"

"And what if I am?"

She drew in a quick breath and tugged at the book again, but he still didn't let go, his gaze dropping to her mouth before travelling slowly back up to her eyes. Oh, he was definitely teasing her, and it was working. She could feel the ache building within her, and with his close proximity, it was almost too much. Her lungs didn't seem capable of drawing in enough air to sustain her, and she was getting a little dizzy.

It was too much, too real, and she felt a squeeze of panic. Her fingers let go of the book, and she stepped back from him, her eyes dancing away as she headed back towards her table, trying to catch her breath. She was letting him distract her, and that wouldn't do.

She picked up the newspaper and studied the symbol again, trying to focus on that instead of the keen awareness of Oscar behind her. He shifted, his footsteps moving closer, and then he leaned over her shoulder, his arm coming around to place the book on the table in front of her. Her lips twitched in amusement at his boldness but also at his apparent loss of interest in a trade.

"You wouldn't make a very good trader if you cave so easily," she taunted. Then she bit her lip. She shouldn't encourage him, but she just couldn't seem to help herself whenever he was close.

"I blame you and those bewitching eyes of yours," he whispered. He spoke near her ear, and the memory of his lips grazing there made her shiver.

"You're lucky I'm not hexing you for distracting me from my symbol solving."

He moved to lean his hips against the table beside her, folding his arms as he smiled. "So, I distract you, do I?"

She made the mistake of looking at him, that ridiculously handsome smirk not helping with her efforts to cool down. "Poor choice of word," she said. "Perhaps annoying would suit?"

She put down the newspaper and opened the book, flipping hastily through the yellowed pages, searching for images and symbols. Oscar chuckled beside her, grabbing up the newspaper to take a look at the symbols.

"Hmm, the first one is fairly obvious," he mused. "The second one reminds me of those old stone puzzles scattered around the Highlands."

Realisation struck, and MC turned, swiping the newspaper back from him to take another look. "Of course, the Merlin trials! How could I forget? I've done countless of those things."

"You're welcome," he said smugly. "Fetching books and solving your puzzles for you, not to mention the flying tips. The favours are stacking up, MC. I might have to start collecting my returns."

"Consider the fact I haven't hexed you yet a favour," she smirked. "Now, if you really want to be useful, you can start looking through this book for clues on the third symbol."

MC picked up the book on castles and held it out to him. Oscar took the book with a little bow, his lips still sinfully smirking. "As the lady commands."

That was how Sebastian found them, noses buried in books as they looked for the symbol, Oscar somehow managing to tease smothered laughter from her lips as he regaled her with some of his more amusing Quidditch mishaps.

"You look like you are having far too much fun to be studying," Sebastian drawled. He approached their table with a curious gaze towards Oscar. He peered over at the newspaper on the table before her and his eyebrow lifted. "Ah, yes, the magical symbol puzzle. Have you solved it yet?"

MC's shoulders slumped, and she gave Sebastian a knowing look. "Don't tell me. You have already cracked it."

His smug smile said it all. His gaze flicked towards Oscar. "I see you've had help, though," he said. "I didn't take you for a puzzle solver, Weasley."

Oscar smirked and shrugged. "MC asked for my help, and it would have been rude of me to refuse the lady's request."

Sebastian hummed deeply. "As equally rude to decline your assistance in flying her broom, no doubt."

Oscar's eyes narrowed, and Sebastian stared him down, an awkward atmosphere evolving between the two lads. MC shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. "Oscar has indeed been most helpful, Seb," she said. "I only have the last symbol to solve."

"Do you think you can solve it in ten minutes?" Sebastian asked. "We have Defence Against the Dark Arts class to attend."

MC gasped, her eyes flying towards the clock. Had she really been here that long? She felt her cheeks warm up as she shared a look with Oscar. A distraction indeed. "My goodness!" She said. "We have been here longer than I thought."

Oscar smiled and stood. "Then I shall I leave you to it," he said. He gave her a warm smile, his blue eyes twinkling. "It's been a pleasure, MC, as always."

Sebastian's eyes glittered with suspicion as they followed Oscar, walking away across the library. MC knew it came from a place of protectiveness. It was in Sebastian's nature to be that way, and as they had grown closer, he had only increased in that manner towards her. At times, it could become overwhelming, and he needed a nudge, a gentle reminder that she was more than capable of looking after herself. But, it was also lovely to have a friend who cared so much for her. It was something all together new and welcome after growing up as just one in her orphanage.

MC began to hastily gather up her study books, hurrying to tidy and get moving for class. "You wouldn't mind giving me a hand with putting these away, would you?" She asked as she got to her feet.

Sebastian moved closer towards her, leaning forwards to sniff curiously at her hair. MC's eyes widened, and she looked up at him. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

His eyes sparked with mischief, the suspicion now gone, and teasing Sebastian was in full swing. "I was merely checking to see if you had changed your shampoo or something," he said. "For whatever reason, you seem to have a flurry of Weasley's around you lately. Why might that be?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," she scoffed. She thrust books into his arms whilst trying to maintain a look of innocence. If Sebastian got even the tiniest inkling of the saucy book she had read or the fact that she was entertaining saucy thoughts about Oscar Weasley, then his teasing would have no mercy. "It's nothing like that at all."

"No?" He grinned. He followed her along to the book shelf as they began to put them away. "First, it's Garreth pining over you in potions and inviting you out on romantic Highland walks. Then, it's Oscar with his fairly obvious attempt at flirting with you on a broomstick, and now he is sniffing around you in the library. I'm telling you, whatever it is about you, it's attracting Weasley's like flies."

"And why should that bother you so much, my dear Seb?" She teased. It would be smart to turn this back around onto him and take the focus away from her and Oscar. "Are you not equally surrounded by admirers? Crossed Wands starts again next week, I am sure your little fan club are making their support banners as we speak."

Sebastian puffed up his chest and gave her a lofty look, far too full of himself for his own good. "As they should," he said. "And as for you, have you forgotten that I promised to be a most faithful guide? As my charge, I feel it is my responsibility to ensure that no scoundrel takes advantage of my Hufflepuff. Therefore, I shall be keeping a sharp eye on both Mr Weasley's from now on."

MC giggled and tucked away her notes into her bag. "Your Hufflepuff? You do make me chuckle, Seb," she said. She took his arm. "Come on, escort me to class then, my noble protector. Whatever would I do without you?"

....*....

Saturday dawned as an overcast day with a brisk breeze that had the first pinch of autumn chill in the air. Garreth wrapped his well-worn Gryffindor scarf about his neck and double-checked his bag before setting off to meet MC.

The corridors were relatively peaceful, with students relaxing on their day off, the classrooms quiet and empty as Garreth passed them on his way to the Bell Tower entrance hall.

It was just a foraging trip. He had been on countless of them, but this one was making his tummy flutter and churn, his breakfast sitting heavy. This time, he was going with MC, and he felt pressure weighing him down, knowing that Oscar had his eye on her. Not only had it been the broom ride, it was their exchange of smiles in the Great Hall, and it was the hesitant questions MC had asked about Oscar during their last potions lesson. She was curious about his older brother, and it made Garreth's heart sink.

As he walked towards the huge double doors that led out of the castle, he paused in his step as he caught sight of MC standing waiting for him. She was wearing a long coat, trousers, and high boots. The knitted scarf around her neck was a traditional Hogwarts scarf in all the house colours. Her long hair was pinned up, soft strands framing her face as she lit up with a lovely smile when she saw him.

"There you are," she said brightly, skipping forwards.

Garreth hurried towards her, meeting her in the middle of the entrance hall, the urge to hug her swept over him but he held his arms rigid, one hand gripping tightly to the strap of his bag. "All ready to go?" He asked.

She nodded and moved to walk beside him as they headed for the double doors, Garreth rushing forward to open it first and gesturing for her to walk through. "Ladies first," he grinned.

She giggled and stepped through the door, snagging hold of his arm as she passed and tugging him through with her. "Come on, Sir Garreth," she teased. "You can escort me into the big, bad forest. I hope you brought your sword to protect me from all the nasty monsters in there."

Garreth felt his cheeks flame as she held his arm, but there was no way he was going to stop her. The fresh breeze teased at Garreth's hair, and it carried the scent of the last of the summer blooms in the flower beds. The low, dull cloud was blocking the sunlight, but he didn't mind. His spirits were high, and her teasing was filling the day with promise. He tried to be calm and collected as they walked arm and arm across the grounds, but his smile was so wide his cheeks were likely to start aching before long.

"It's more likely that you will be the one doing the protecting," he said wryly. "You're the one who defeats trolls and brings down dark wizards after all. I am nought but a humble potion brewer."

"Ah, I see, so this is why you invited me along," she teased, her eyes sparkling. "You just wanted a bodyguard."

Garreth held his hand up, a look of mock shame on his face. "It appears you have rumbled me, MC. Feel free to abandon my useless behind to the monsters if you so wish."

"As if I would," she said. She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, Weasley. You're perfectly safe with me."

Garreth didn't doubt it. He had seen her in action in a classroom and could only imagine what she was like in a real battle, the thought intriguing and almost exciting.

The conversation flowed surprisingly easily as they walked the pathway out of the school grounds and along towards the entrance to the forest. The trees crowded around them, and soon, the dull light was reduced to gloom as they wandered along the track, collecting mushrooms and herbs as they went. The distant calls of beasts and the creaking of the trees limbs kept Garreth on alert, his eyes scanning through the gloom nervously. A quick glance to MC revealed her serenely gathering her ingredients, not a worry clouding her pretty eyes as she stepped carefully around tree roots.

"You seem at home here," he said.

She glanced over at him and huffed a laugh. "I wouldn't say that," she said. She gazed through the trees and sighed. "But, I have spent a fair amount of time in this forest. Perhaps I have grown used to it. I would be a fool to forget about its risks, though. It is all too easy to get lost or caught up in something dangerous."

Garreth pursed his lips in thought as he cut some Dittany leaves from a stem and placed them carefully in a muslin cloth.

"Were you ever frightened?" He asked. She paused and turned to look at him. "You know, when you had to fight against those dark wizards?"

Her eyes darkened for a moment, drifted somewhere far away, something almost sad flickering across her features. He almost regretted asking her the question, but his curiosity had been roused. She nodded.

"Of course," she said. "Just over a year ago, I was just a girl in an orphanage, and now I'm being heralded as some kind of hero for deeds that don't exactly feel heroic. It's strange. Sometimes, I feel like it's happening to somebody else. I've had to dig deep, and I've discovered things about myself that I would have never believed before coming here."

Garreth straightened, moving closer to where she stood beneath a huge, old twisted tree. "I don't know how you do it," he said, shaking his head. "You must be very brave defeating all those camps and dens of wizards."

"Or very stupid," she said with a wry smile. "I suppose in the moment I didn't really have time to think about it, and I wouldn't have been able to deal with half of it without Sebastian."

Garreth nodded slowly at the mention of their Slytherin classmate, his teeth worrying at his lower lip as he studied her. "You and him are close," he said. It wasn't a question. It was obvious to anyone who cared to look.

Her eyes became determined. "He's my best friend. I know everyone thinks there is more between us, but we are just friends. We have been through a lot together. He is the only one who truly understands, and I owe him a great deal."

Relief was a sweet and wonderful thing in Garreth's chest at her confirmation that she was not in love with Sebastian. However, there was clearly a very deep bond there, and only a fool would try to come between that. To hear the way she spoke about him, to see the shadows flicker in her eyes about events of last year, he could understand that bond. To think of her, small as she was, facing down the enemy and only recently coming into her magic, it made his heart twist painfully. The thought of her dealing with it all alone was horrifying.

It made him look at the arrogant Slytherin boy from a different angle. A boy he would mistrust before anything else, and yet Sebastian had taken MC under his wing and stood by her, and Garreth knew that Sebastian was not without his own troubles. It humbled Garreth, and he realised that envying Sebastian's closeness with MC was pointless. The Slytherin had clearly earned her friendship.

"Then I am glad you had Sebastian there by your side during those difficult times," he said. He bowed his head, his fingers fiddling nervously with the end of his scarf. "I hope I can be even half as good a friend to you as he is."

MC stared at him, a pink flush covering her face as she smiled. "I have no complaints so far," she said. Her smile twisted into something rather impish. "In fact, I'm very sure you will be wonderful. Sebastian may be my best friend, but he is also an insufferable pain in the backside at times, something you have yet to prove in yourself."

Garreth's grin was rueful. "Give me time, MC. I'll soon have you pulling your hair out, just like my siblings."

Her laugh seemed to chase the very shadows of the forest away, and Garreth realised he could get addicted to that sound.

....*....

When they emerged out from under the canopy of the dark forest, MC paused and looked up at the sky, blinking at the brightness as the clouds were slowly breaking up. Weak sunlight was trying to break through, and she smiled, lifting her hand to shield her eyes.

She turned as Garreth emerged, brushing stray leaves from his hair after getting caught up in a bush. She giggled and stepped forward, reaching up to tug a particularly stubborn leaf from his locks, the strands of which were soft under her fingertips. She realised that touching his hair was something rather intimate to do, and she was surprised at her own boldness. This close, she could almost count the array of freckles that covered his pale skin, and her eyes caught his, the shades of green seeming to shift with the changing daylight. The blush spreading up his face reached his hairline, and she shyly held up the leaf in explanation of the touch.

He made it easy to be in his company, and she appreciated the things he had said to her earlier regarding Sebastian. It was refreshing to have someone understand and respect her choices without looking for the ulterior motive.

Being this close to him, however, made her think of Oscar. It was only yesterday that Oscar had stood this close to her, looking at her with his teasing blue eyes and making her heart pound. There was no mistaking the family resemblance, and conflicting emotions rushed through her.

Feeling thoroughly confused, MC took a step back away from Garreth and let the leaf drop down to the ground. Shame made her cheeks colour up, and she turned to look around the area where they had come out of the forest in an attempt to straighten out her thoughts. They were quite a way from the castle now.

"What would you like to do?" She asked.

Garreth patted his stomach and licked his lips. "I'm hungry," he said.

She turned back to him, almost smiling at the simple statement that was such a stark comparison to the swirl of confusing thoughts rolling around in her brain. "Oh, did you want to head back to Hogwarts for lunch, then?"

His smile was one of almost smug pride as he patted the bag slung over his shoulder with a freckled hand. "We don't have to return to the castle for lunch," he said. "I may have taken the liberty of paying a visit to the house elves this morning before meeting you. They made us a pack up. We can have a picnic and then continue our explorations. What do you say?"

MC felt her mouth pop open in surprise. "Wow, you thought of everything didn't you?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "I always carry snacks," he said, as if that was obvious. "There's nothing worse than trying to do anything on an empty stomach, and unfortunately, mine seems to be always on the hunt for something to nibble on."

MC laughed and took his arm. "Well, thank Merlin for your bottomless stomach," she said. "I'm actually rather hungry myself! Let's find a spot, and you can show me what is in that bottomless bag of yours."

They found a spot near some standing stones that was sheltered from the breeze, and Garreth dropped his bag down onto the ground. MC gazed around, hand shielding her eyes, always watchful and aware after too many ambushes out in the wild.

"So, are we safe, my faithful bodyguard?" Garreth asked. MC smiled and turned, her eyes widening as she watched Garreth spread a blanket out on the grass. He knelt down and began to pull out parcels wrapped in muslin cloth, along with a bottle of pumpkin juice and a box that looked like it came from Honeydukes.

"My goodness," MC said. She moved closer and dropped down onto the blanket beside him. "This is... it looks amazing!"

He beamed at her and handed her two cups. "You pour the juice, and I will unwrap the sandwiches."

"You have gone to so much trouble," she said softly. She stared at everything on the blanket before them before lifting her gaze to look at Garreth. This was the Garreth that she had caught glimpses of in his letters during the summer, she thought fondly.

"When it comes to food, I don't mess about," he said. He handed her a sandwich filled with cheese and sliced tomatoes. "Come on, tuck in."

She did. As they ate and chatted, MC began to relax again, trying not to think too much about Oscar. When she had finished her food, she pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms about her legs, and she gazed out across the valley.

"I have definitely fallen in love with Scotland," she said. "It is utterly breathtaking. I found it hard to be back in London over the summer to tell the truth."

"Will you not go back to London when you graduate?"

MC gave him a surprised look. "We have some time yet before we have to decide that. Two years almost."

Garreth nodded. "It will come round soon enough, MC. I can't believe Oscar will be leaving this year. I will be the oldest Weasley child here then. Hector is here, and my sister, Millie, will be joining next September."

"What will Oscar be doing when he leaves?" MC picked at a loose thread on her trousers, trying to sound casual.

"You mean he hasn't told you?" Garreth asked. "That surprises me. He does like to brag, especially to girls."

MC felt her cheeks warm, disappointment making her brow crease. "No, he hasn't told me. Perhaps he doesn't think I need to know."

"Well, if you're interested, he has been offered a place on a Quidditch team," Garreth said. The sour look on his face suggested that he wasn't overly pleased about this news.

MC thought it was rather fantastic. She had never seen Oscar play, but she knew he was good on a broom, and the word around school seemed to suggest that he was very good as a Beater. MC was looking forward to this year's Quidditch games and seeing Oscar in action, but she didn't say that. Garreth didn't seem as enthusiastic about his brother's success.

"Mum and Dad were ecstatic when he got the letter. What with Nigellus working at the Ministry and Oscar on the cards for becoming a star Quidditch player, the pressure is on me now to be brilliant at something."

"What makes you think you won't be?" MC asked.

Garreth shrugged. "I can't imagine anything worse than being stuck at a desk all day, and as much as I love Quidditch, I'm not interested in playing professionally. I'm not sure what I will do."

MC didn't like the cloud of sadness that had drifted over his usually sunny features. She reached out to place her hand on his forearm briefly in an attempt to reassure him. "You still have time, Garreth," she said. She shrugged. "I'm not sure what I want to do yet either. Maybe I will figure it out by the time we graduate, maybe not. I have my shop in Hogsmeade to fall back on if need be."

"At least you have that," Garreth said. "The only thing that interests me is potions and the creativity behind it all. I'm not sure people take me seriously, though, especially when I have a tendency to blow things up."

His grin was sheepish, and MC chuckled. "Hey, at least you learn from those mistakes," she said. "You should have more confidence in yourself. That Fizzing Whizzbeer you made wasn't half bad, although the levitation part did get out of hand."

MC had found herself floating all the way up to the ceiling when she had tried his attempt at making the beer. After swiping the ingredients for him from Honeydukes, he honoured her with the first taste. It had been rather amusing as he had tried to get her back down on her feet. He had thought she was going to be mad, but they had laughed so hard her tummy had hurt. Even now, it brought a chuckle to her lips.

Garreth smothered his laugh with his hands, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. "I did manage to get you down in the end, though."

"You did," MC agreed, still laughing. Then she gave him a more serious look. "I meant what I said, though. It tasted good, a little tweak here and there, and I reckon you will have cracked it. You could design so many great drinks like that. Maybe that is your brilliance."

"You really think so?"

His look was so soft, so hopeful, it made her heart squeeze. She nodded. "I really do."

....*....

The sky was now mostly clear of clouds, the late afternoon sun pleasantly warm as it shone over the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. Oscar lay on his back on the grass, breathing hard and wiping the sweat from his brow after an energetic, friendly game. It felt so good to have Quidditch back, and with trials in a few days, he felt the old excitement in his stomach, the competitive streak in him raring to go.

Isaac Cooper appeared beside him, holding up a flask of juice. His black hair was equally sweaty, his face flushed from his exertions. "Drink, Weasley? I'd say you've earned one after that performance."

Oscar nodded and sat up, his shoulders aching from whacking Bludgers with his bat for the past couple of hours. He was going to feel it tomorrow. He took the offered flask and gulped down the cool juice greedily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked up at Isaac. "It's looking good for trials, isn't it?"

Isaac smirked and nodded. "We've got a good chance this year, I reckon," he said. "Slytherin is going to be the one to beat. Reyes is a determined minx, and she is out for blood now that we have got the go-ahead."

Oscar chuckled. "Keep working that Cooper charm on her, it worked getting her to team up on the petition for Black."

Isaac screwed his nose up. "Yeah, but there was something in it for her with that. When it comes to matches and the cup, this is war."

Oscar got to his feet and returned the flask to him. "Get her in the sack, then, that usually works a charm," Oscar winked.

Isaac laughed and shook his head. "I don't think she swings her bat in that direction, if you catch my drift. I tried, and she damn near ripped my head off."

Oscar laughed and clapped Oscar on the shoulder as they walked towards the changing room block. A group of 6th and 7th year girls who had come down to watch the friendly play this afternoon were loitering outside. Isaac perked up and gave Oscar a sly look. "Look lively, Weasley," he said. "Which pretty smile do you fancy? I quite like the look of the blonde Ravenclaw myself."

Oscar scanned the witches and didn't see MC amongst them. He did see Trixie McNair, however, and she was gazing his way, a little smirk on her pretty mouth. She was trouble that one, a stunner no doubt, but the most slippery of Slytherin snakes to ever get close to. Half the Quidditch boys had been there, himself included, and he swore never again, no matter how many time she gave him those fuck me eyes.

Oscar gave Isaac a half smile. "Knock yourself out, mate," he said. "I'm going for a shower."

Isaac stared at him. "Bloody hell, what's got into you? You're usually the first into the fray."

Oscar shrugged and broke away towards the changing block. Isaac shook his head in disbelief. "Tell me it's not the Hufflepuff hero?"

Oscar kept his thoughts to himself and paused to throw a grin at Isaac over his shoulder, not wanting to reveal anything about MC. She seemed like the kind of girl who wouldn't appreciate being the object of everyone's gossip. For once, Oscar actually cared what a girl thought about him, especially one who didn't hang around outside the changing rooms waiting for a boy to notice them. There was something about MC that had pulled him in, and he wasn't about to mess up his chances, especially with Garreth waiting in the wings.

He wondered how their little trip together had gone today and felt a tug in his guts that felt suspiciously like jealousy. He had never been jealous of Garreth before. It was new, and it was intriguing. He wondered how much fight Garreth actually had in him if it came down to it. He knew his brother had a hard fist on him if he was of a mind to throw it, but Oscar wasn't sure how possessive Garreth would get over a girl. Ladies had a way of getting under your skin and making you do dumb shit you wouldn't normally do.

"Wow, never thought I'd see the day Oscar Weasley lost his head over a girl," Isaac chuckled. "Hope she is worth it mate!"

"I will catch you later on," Oscar called back. His gaze drifted towards the group of girls and he lifted an eyebrow. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Isaac grinned and made his way over to the blonde Ravenclaw, who was already smiling up at the Gryffindor captain. Oscar headed into the changing block, a small part of him wishing that MC had broken her habits and had been waiting for him instead of Trixie McNair.

The hot water felt good against his neck and shoulders, flowing down his back and easing muscles that were going to be stiff in the morning. Oscar rinsed the last of the soap from his hair and wiped his face, reaching out to turn the water off but pausing when he heard a noise behind him. He turned as a familiar black haired figure stepped into the stall behind him, her pouty mouth lifted into a playful smirk. She was completely naked, her hair loose about her shoulders. Trixie McNair.

"What the fuck?" He hissed.

"Hello, Oscar," Trixie said, her smirk widening.

Her dark eyes were glittering with intent as she slid her palm up his chest, stepping eagerly under the spray of water to press herself up against him. Oscar stepped back, shocked, trying to avoid the slippery brush of her wet skin against his, but she had her hands around his neck, her breasts pressed close against him as he sucked in a deep breath.

"Fuck," he gasped. He grabbed her waist, desperately trying to ignore the way her skin slid erotically against his and he pushed her backwards away from him. "No, stop!"

Trixie giggled, moving forward again, her hands smoothing over his shoulders. "That's not what you said last time," she taunted. She hummed appreciatively as she squeezed her hands down his arms. "You certainly filled out a lot more over summer, Oscar. I like it."

"Get out," Oscar said, frowning. He grappled with her arms, trying not to notice the way the shower water was running in rivulets over her skin, plastering her long, black hair over the swell of her breasts. "You shouldn't even be in here."

Trixie pouted at him and grabbed his hand, splaying it against one round, slippery breast. Her gaze was dark, sultry, and full of promise. She licked her lips slowly, and Oscar winced. He knew what those lips could do.

"Are you sure you want to kick me out?" She purred.

Oscar squeezed his eyes shut tight at the feel of that soft roundness under his palm, gritting his teeth against the blood that was rushing right to his cock. She was the ultimate temptress and he dug deep for resistance, yanking his hand free of her grip.

He thought of MC, her pretty eyes and the way she had smiled at him in the library, the way she had shivered at the feel of his lips against her ear. Something deep inside of him pulled. He did not want to fuck that up.

"I told you to get out," he said through gritted teeth. He gave Trixie a hard shove, and she slipped on the tiled floor, grabbing the shower curtain for balance as she glared up at him.

"Since when does Oscar Weasley say no," she spat.

He glared back at her, anger swirling in his belly now. If he had done this to a girl in the shower, he would be expelled faster than he could blink. Her words were almost an echo of what Isaac had jokingly said to him outside, and Oscar pushed his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Just get the fuck out of here," he said. "Maybe you should start using the word no a bit more yourself before you run out of Quidditch players to fuck."

Fury twisted her beautiful face, and she narrowed her eyes. "It's true, isn't it?" She said coldly. "You're chasing after bookish virgins now, aren't you? That Hufflepuff who can do no wrong."

Oscar glared at her, something hot and vicious twisting inside him at hearing her speak about MC that way. He kept his mouth shut, though. Like before, he wasn't going to add fuel to the fire.

Trixie chuckled and shook her head. "You will regret chucking me out of here, honey, trust me," she said. "When Little Miss Perfect knocks you back, you'll come crawling back to someone who knows how to please a man."

She let her gaze travel slowly over him, and he refused to budge an inch, standing there naked under the water as her lips twisted up into her trademark sultry smirk. Then she was gone, her bare feet padding away softly on the tiled floor.

Oscar let out the breath he had been holding and leant back against the cold tiles of the wall, rubbing his face with his hand.

MC had really gotten under his skin. There was no denying it. Oscar wanted her, and now he was determined to have her.

To be continued....

[ursa-tan]

Metamorphosis

No ship, just fluff!

Requested: No

When Howdy closes the Bugdega unexpectedly, all of his neighbours are extremely worried. The reader is a puppet in this, ever so slightly shorter than Frank and Eddie, who are both ~4 feet tall.

I'm getting fics out so fast because I broke my phone and have nothing else to do until I can get it fixed - then I can go back to doom-scrolling TikTok

Word count: 3,455 Reading time: ~12 mins

TW: None

Somehow, Julie had managed to drag you into helping her out with a party she was planning. Really, she had dragged everyone into it. Drag was the wrong word actually, you (much like everyone else) had volunteered yourself and then got assigned a job. The job in question? You were to bake a cake - or cupcakes, or anything you wanted really, but you had decided to bake a cake. Normally it's something Poppy would've done, but Julie had asked her to help with something else, so you were stuck on baking duty.

You had made the decision to get Wally to help you. He was an artist after all, how hard could baking be? And at the very least, you could get him to decorate the cake and keep you company while you baked it.

"Wally!" You shout, standing outside of Home. He had promised to be out at 11:30 am sharp and it's currently 11:45. You could all see the clock tower from your respective homes, so he had no excuse to be late.

A loud creak and banging of a door sounds from inside Home, closely followed by the sound of Wally's voice. It's too muffled for you to make out anything, but you can hear that it sounds relatively impatient. The sounds are then quickly followed up by what sounds like Wally running and nearly falling down the stairs. It’s a sound that makes you wince slightly.

The door whips open, although it’s obvious Wally wasn’t the one to open it. He’s still standing a little way away, signature cardigan half on as he tries to do his shoes up.

“What happened to ‘11:30 sharp’ huh?” You ask, hands on your hips as you stare down at him.

“Sorry neighbour, something came up,” He mumbled, fully pulling his shoes on and finally exiting Home.

"Ok, well, I take that its all sorted now?" You ask, looking down at him as you begin the short walk towards Howdy's Place. You make sure to take smaller steps so he can stay by your side. Its not like you're that much taller than Wally, just enough so that you have to slow down ever so slightly.

"Yes, all sorted," He smiles, not looking up at you. He keeps pace with a little effort, having to walk slightly faster than usual.

The both of you chat pleasantly as you walk. It's the same thing that happens every time on the short walk. A pleasant little chat where you and Wally catch up on each others life. What is usual, however, is everyone crowded outside of the bugdega, chattering in hushed voices.

"Is everyone ok?" You ask, concerned as you come to a stop between Eddie and Barnaby. Wally slips in next to you.

"Howdy hasn't been seen since yesterday," Eddie mumbles, toying with Frank's fingers as he does, "He hasn't even called anyone, were all a bit worried."

Frank nods, humming in agreement with their husband. "Poppy tried calling him this morning, but he wouldn't pick up."

You look down at the ground for a moment, catching Wally's eyes as he tilts his head to look up at you. There's a look of curiosity in those deep black pits, one of concern too. It drives you forwards, taking the largest steps you can without seeing strange until you reach the door. 

Realistically you know its impolite and completely improper, but you have to try it - so you place your hand gently on the handle and give the door a small push. It doesn't budge at all. You push again, hoping the door is just stuck in its frame for whatever reason, but again it doesn't budge.

"It's locked," You mumble, not turning around. No one answers, you're not sure if its because they had already tried or if they're ashamed for not having tried it. There isn't time to wait for an answer - not in your mind at least. Howdy never shuts the bugdega, ever, especially not without saying something to someone.

You press your face against the window, cupping your hands round your eyes. It gives you a slightly better view into the darkened space behind them. You look for the faint white glow of the fridge, but you can't find it. The fridge has been turned off - or maybe not turned back on after it turned itself off? Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. Howdy is responsible, he wouldn't let his stock go bad, even if he was sick! Something in your gut is sitting horribly wrong.

"Did anyone notice the fridge isn't on?" You turn yourself back to the group, all of whom look up at you when you speak.

"It isn't?" Barnaby asks back, walking up to join you by the window, also pressing his face against it for a moment before pulling away. "You're right, it isn't..." He trails off, looking down at you in concern.

"Does anyone know what we should do?" It's Eddie's turn to speak up again, still messing with Frank's hand - this time smoothing his thumb over the wedding ring.

"Maybe we can take turns sitting outside and waiting for Howdy to come out?" Julie, who had been seemingly deep in thought up until this point, looks up at her best friend and their husband.

"We have to do something more than that," You say, once again turning back to look into the darkened Bugdega. Something is telling you that Howdy needs to be checked on.

"You can't get in, the door's locked, darling." This time, it's Sally's turn to speak up, as she approaches the door. She easily ushers you and Barnaby out of the way, head held high as she speaks in a quiet yet clear voice, shooing you both away.

No one speaks as she leans forwards, resting her cupped hands against the glass door to help her look inside. You're sure she quickly comes to the same conclusion as you, as she leans away and looks back towards the crowd. Surprisingly, she doesn't speak, only solemnly shaking her head and walking away to stand by Poppy.

Quiet chatter breaks out amongst the group once again, everyone seeming to break off into their own conversations as you collectively try and figure out how to get into the Bugdega.

You feel a soft tug on the back of your jumper just as you're about to say something to Barnaby. It's Wally, except he's not looking at you - another unusual thing to add to the list of the many things that have happened today. He's looking up at one of the windows on the second floor of the Bugdega, which is cracked open ever so slightly.

"Right," You mumble, patting Wally's shoulder. You know exactly what he's suggesting, even if he hasn't said it

Ideally, you'd want Howdy for this job. Even if he isn't the tallest neighbour, he does have very lanky arms and you know that you could easily reach the window if you stood on his hands. But he isn't here, so your next best bet is Barnaby.

"hey, Barn?" You ask, tilting your head away from the window and towards the massive blue dog beside you.

"Yeah, kid?" He breaks his eyes away from the Bugdega's door, looking at you. You can tell he's trying his best to hide his concern for the missing caterpillar.

"You think you could lift me up high enough to get into that window up there?" You once again look towards the window, pointing up at it.

"If you think you can squeeze in there," His words strike you, making you re-think your plan. The gap is pretty small, and even if you're one of the smallest neighbours, you doubt if you can squeeze in through a gap that small. "Maybe Wally could fit?"

The smaller puppets look up at the mention of his name, eyes moving slowly between you and the larger puppet. He doesn't seem to have heard Barnaby's proposition.

"You think you can fit through there Wally?" You ask, looking down at the little puppet.

He seems to hesitate for a second, looking up at the open window and thinking before looking back to you and Barnaby. He seems to be a little concerned.

"I'll follow you in," You say, smiling, placing a hand on his shoulder and keeping him close, "I just need you to get in there and open the window. Then we can look for Howdy together, promise."

"Ok neighbour, I'll do it." Wally nods, now waiting for Barnaby to pick him up.

"Right, up we go then." As Barnaby picks him up, the rest of your neighbours turn to face them. Wally is standing on Barnaby's hands, just about managing to reach the windowsill when Barnaby stands up on his tiptoes. You can see that it takes a lot of effort for them both to get Wally up there - the Bugdega is a massively tall building, and Wally has to hook his fingertips into the window to pull himself up.

"Ok kiddo, your turn," Barnaby mumbles, turning towards you and scooping you up next. It takes you a moment to get steady on his hands, but by the time you're as far up as he can get you, Wally has fully pushed the window open and is leaning out to grab your hands. 

As soon as he can, Wally is gripping your wrists and pulling you up. He might not be very strong, but with the combination of being anchored at the windowsill by the waist and Barnaby giving you a final push from underneath, you manage to tumble into the window.

"Are we sure that's a good idea?" You can faintly hear Eddie ask from down below, probably feeling like breaking into Howdy's place isn't a great idea.

"It'll be ok Eddie." You hear Frank's vice next, comforting his husband. It's nice to know they always stick together.

"Ok Wally... Time to find Howdy," You mumble, standing up from where you were on the floor. Wally just nods, standing up and taking your hand. He seems a bit uneasy, and if you're honest, so are you. 

All of the curtains inside are drawn, including the one in front of the window you just crawled through. Everything is also eerily quiet. You can't hear a single sound from anywhere inside the building, bar the soft tapping of the curtain as it flutters in the wind still coming from the open window.

You reach out and take Wally's hand, pulling him until his body is pressed into yours. The same something that told you Howdy needed to be checked on is also now telling you that you shouldn't check alone. 

"Maybe we should check his bedroom?" Wally asks, looking up at you. His voice is still monotone but has lost that sleepy quality it usually has to it.

"Yeah... Seems like the right choice..." You mumble in response, beginning the slow search of Howdy's flat.

Much to your surprise, you don't find anything at all. There are no traces of Howdy anywhere you look. His bed is made, the kitchen is clean, and his bathroom sink is dry. As far as you can tell, it looks like Howdy kinda just... stopped existing.

"I think we should check the actual Bugdega... There's gotta be some evidence of him down there..." It's the first time either of you has said anything since you agreed with Wally on checking the bedroom. It feels wrong to break the near silence of the flat.

"Ok... I'm following," Wally murmurs, obviously not wanting to go first.

You have to move carefully down the stairs as you only have one of your hands to help support you. Wally is gripping tightly onto your hand as you both descend straight into the stock room. The smaller puppet is partially hiding behind you when you both step onto the cold concrete floor. You can hear the sound of your feet meeting the hard surface echo out.

"Howdy's in here..." Wally's voice is muffled as he hides his face in your back.

You hate to admit it, but you know he's right. Howdy is somewhere in the stock room - even if you can't hear him breathing or moving about, you know he's somewhere in here.

"Howdy?..." You call out, hesitant to make any noise in the near-silent room.

Wally continues to hide behind you as both of you explore the Bugdega's storage room. He seems to be trying to keep his face pressed into your back as you both explore. You can't blame him - if you had someone braver than you here, you'd probably hide your face in them... Probably Frank. Frank would think about this logically.

"Hey, Wally... Maybe we should find the keys and open the door to let everyo- AHHHH!" You interrupt yourself with a scream, loud enough to pierce the absolute silence of the storeroom.

Wally peaks out from behind you and promptly gasps in horror, probably already prepared for the sight due to your scream. You can hear someone pounding on the door faintly and the sound of someone else shouting in panic. You think you can vaguely make out the sound of Frank telling Barnaby to pick him up and help him through the window that you left open. But none of that matters.

In front of you is a massive cocoon. It's bigger than any of your friends and looks horrifically sticky in whatever light is keeping the storeroom from being pitch black. You hate to think about it, but you're pretty sure something inside it is moving. You reach forwards to touch it, despite it looking to be covered in some sort of goo, only to be tugged back by Wally.

"That looks like a cocoon," He mumbles, continuing to tug you backwards and away from it, "We should talk to Frank, they know a lot about bugs..."

"Ok, let's get Frank..." You're relieved that Wally brought it up, you don't want to be along in here any longer.

You both rush to find the keys and open the front door. Everyone seems to fret over how panicked the both of you look, especially Poppy. But you don't have time for that, not as you rush Frank in and towards where you found the cocoon. Wally doesn't know what to say, but you're convinced that whatever is in there ate your friend and shopkeeper.

Frank gets as close to it as he can without touching it, circling around it and inspecting it. They seem to reach a conclusion after a few minutes. They stand up and walk back towards you, wally and the neighbours who are now crowded behind you and murmuring quietly. Apart from Eddie, who is waiting outside because he hates bugs.

"I think you're right (Y/n), Howdy is in the chrysalis," They speak with clarity, standing up straight and puffing his chest out slightly, "I think Howdy is pupating."

"And... What does that mean for the big guy?" It's Barnaby's turn to speak now. It doesn't seem like anyone else can find the words, to be fair.

"He's becoming a butterfly!" Frank practically shouts, excitement evident. "O-Or a moth, of course! He could always be a moth."

"How long will it take? This whole," Barnaby pauses a moment to gesture to the chrysalis, "thing."

"Well, it can vary. Some species only take a few days to pupate and emerge, some take weeks or even months! And some even take years! I- We know nothing about what kind of butterfly- or moth! - Howdy is rather large, he could-"

"Frank. How long."

"O-Oh, uh, hmm. My best guess would be around a month, but i could be entirely wrong."

"Let's work with that then," Barnaby huffs, putting one hand on his lower back and one on his head. He lets out a long sigh and closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again, "Someone needs to run the Bugdega while howdy is out of commission, we can't go a month without it."

"I can do that," You pipe up, smiling kind of nervously.

"Ok then kiddo. You sure you can manage that?" He's looking down at you like he doesn't think you can do it. You're determined to prove him wrong.

"Yes, I'm sure." You're not actually sure. Howdy is a lot bigger than you, has 4 arms, 4 legs and significantly more energy than you. But you have to try now, you said you'd do it.

And try you do. For the first week, it seems pretty easy. Very few things need restocking, and everything that does need to be restocked is light and easy to carry. You have to use a ladder to reach some of the shelves on account of them being built for someone who easily doubles your height and them some. But you manage. You run the bugdega.

However, as time goes on and the days roll by, the work gets progressively harder and harder. There's always something to do to keep the place in tip-top shape. You find that you barely have time to stop and eat, only ever managing quick snacks and things that you don't really need to cook. You also find that you're taking unwanted naps while tucked under the counter between customers due to staying up late to keep everything running smoothly.

On the upside, the apron makes you look cute. Even if Poppy had to make a custom one for you so you weren't tripping over the extra fabric.

"You look rough, kiddo," Barnaby chuckles to himself as he walks in, ringing the bell above the door and startling you from your half-snooze.

You jump up from where you were slouched on the counter, causing you to topple off the stool you had been sitting on and onto the floor. Barnaby pads towards you, leaning over the counter and chuckling when he looks down at the mess you've become.

"Have a nice trip? Don't forget to send me a postcard!"

"How does Howdy always have the energy to laugh at your jokes?... I'm utterly exhausted..." You pull an arm over your face, placing it so that the crook of your elbow rests over your nose.

"I'm just hilarious, that's all," The dog reaches over the counter and offers you a hand. You take it, albeit reluctantly, and allow him to pull you back to your feet, "funniest pooch around!"

"Normally I'd agree... But I'm not sure when the last time I got a full night's sleep was."

"Looks like never, if I'm honest," Barnaby doesn't stop when you're on your feet, keeping a hold of your hand and easily lifting you until you're sat on the counter, "If I'm being nice? Maybe about a week ago."

He chuckles as you lean forwards, your face buried in his chest fluff. His breathing nearly lulls you back to sleep immediately. It would've if it weren't for the familiar voice from behind you.

"Uniform looks good on you (Y/n), maybe I should hire you full-time."

It's Howdy, he's back and now significantly different. For one, he's not wearing a shirt, for another, he has a massive pair of butterfly wings coming from his back. Although those aren't the only things. He looks fluffier. Taller too. His limbs - from what you can see at least - fade into a darker, more forest green as they reach his hands. His antennae are also longer and curl around more, practically creating a small spiral. He also seems to be taller, on account of him ducking under the stockroom's door to get into the actual bugdega.

"You're back!" You call, scrambling off the counter with what energy you have and rush towards him. You stand on your tiptoes and hug him, burying your face into his fluffy belly.

"(Y/n)? You ok?"

"I tried running the bugdega while you were out. I couldn't do it." Your voice is muffled against Howdy's stomach as you hug him. You don't want to let go. Not only is your friend back, but now you get to go home and sleep properly for the first time in about a month and a half.

"I think you did a splendid job, the bugdega looks great." Howdy places a hand on your back, allowing you to rest against him for a moment.

Slowly, everything returns to normal. Sure, Frank won't leave Howdy alone unless Eddie physically drags them away. And yeah, Howdy has to have all of his clothes altered to fit his new stature. But over all, everything returns to normal, now with a slightly taller and prettier shopkeeper.

[final-girl96]

Firefly Chapter One

Next ---》

Wednesday 7:00 AM

September 24, 2003

"Yn!" I looked across the street to see Sarah Miller waving at me. I jogged over to her with a smile on my face. I've been watching her for the past two years. "Hey, kid!" I said, ruffling her hair. She scrunched up her nose and moved away from me. "Hi, Mr. Miller." Joel Miller may be eighteen years older than me but he was fucking gorgeous. "Yn. You know you can just call me Joel," he said. "Don't let Nonna hear you saying that. She'll kick both our asses," I laughed. He smiled and nodded his head. "How is Clara?" He asked.

I shrugged. I've been living with my Nonna since I was little. My parents had been involved in a hit and run when I was five. Nonna was the only one who had no problem taking me in. "She's good. A little nauseous this morning but other than that she's doing good," I told him. "Good. Hey, are you available to pick up Sarah today and stay with her until I get home?" He asked. I looked over at Sarah and squinted my eyes at her. "Hmm???" I tapped my chin with my finger. She rolled her eyes, "yn!" I laughed and nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"Okay, can you stop hitting on my dad so we can leave before we're later," Sarah said. My eyes widened and I could feel my cheeks starting to get hot. "Oh, my god, Sarah! I was going to take you to get a milkshake after school but now… forget about it you little brat!" She laughed and got in the truck. "You'll still take me!" She said and shut the door. I couldn't even look at Joel. "Firefly!" I looked behind me to see my Nonna at the front door. "Coming, Nonna! Just talking to Mr. Miller!" I called back.

But of course she didn't just go back inside. No, she had to come over as well. "Hello, Joel," she greeted. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, "hello, Clara. I was just asking yn if she wouldn't mind sitting with Sarah tonight. I hope you don't mind," he said. He was always gentle with her. Nonna smiled up at him, "of course not. I have a date with a friend anyway," she said. I looked over at her in confusion. "Date? What happened to being nauseous?" I asked. She smiled and winked before walking away. She may be seventy but she was still very full of life.

I stood there trying to think what friend she was talking about. "Date?" I whispered. "Date. She's still fisty. Maybe it's that man that's been coming over." I looked over at Joel, "what man?" I asked. He smiled with a little laugh before walking around to the driver's side. "Joel? What man?" I asked running around to his side. "You really don't know do you?" He asked. I shook my head waiting for him to tell me. "No. Oh God, does she have a guy over when I'm not home?" I asked. I turned around and started to jog back towards the house. "I'll see you later, Sarah!" I called over my shoulder. "Nonna!"

3:30 PM

I pulled up in front of the school and waited for Sarah. I had the top down on my 1965 mustang. The red poppy paint is shiny and freshly washed. I had music softly playing, and my elbow was propped up on the door. I saw Sarah running over and sat up straighter. "Hey, kid, how was school?" I asked. She put her bookbag in the back seat and put her seat belt on. "It was school. Can we go get milkshakes?" She asked. I laughed and put the car into gear and pulled out. "Sure."

On the way home we also picked up pizza for dinner. Joel wasn't one to really cook and even though he says he's going to be home by five or nine sometimes he's later depending on the job and how things go. Sometimes he and Tommy go out for drinks after work. And I don't mind sitting here with Sarah until he does come home. Nonna was usually out playing bingo or something or now I guess she's on a date. Maybe her bingo nights are actually date nights. After we ate and the dishes were done I put the leftover pizza in the fridge and we watched a movie.

Sarah had her head on my lap fast asleep. The second movie was still playing when the light from headlights filled the room for a few seconds before dying. The sound of a car door closing and then the sound of the door opening pulled my attention over to the entryway. Joel walked in, a tired look on his face. It was almost nine. "Hey, sorry, work ran late, we ran into a couple problems," he said. I gave him a small smile. "It's alright. I don't mind. It beats sitting home alone while Nonna is out on her date." He smiled and looked down at Sarah. "Long day?" He asked.

"Oh yeah, getting milkshakes and going to the mall gets a girl tired," I said. "I'll take her to bed. Thank you again," he said, leaning down and carefully picking up Sarah and taking her up to her room. I could have just left and went home but instead I headed into the kitchen and pre-heated the oven to warm up the pizza. Joel walked in just as I set a couple pieces on the rack. "Thought ya left," he said, getting a beer out of the fridge. "Thought you might be hungry."

"You didn't need to buy dinner," he said. I rolled my eyes and leaned against the counter. "It's no big deal, really. None of it is. I'm more than happy to watch Sarah when you need me to and I'm more than happy to feed her. I read somewhere you have to feed them to keep them alive," I said. He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. "Yeah, you ready right. How's school going for ya? Pick a major yet?" He asked. I turned around and pulled a plate out of the cupboard. "It's okay. Still don't know what I want to do though." I turned the oven off and plated the pizza.

I walked over to the table where he was sitting and sat the plate in front of him and he gave a small thanks. I sat down in the chair beside him, leaning back. "Does it get any easier? Being an adult I mean?" I asked. He huffed a laugh and shook his head. "No. It gets harder. Gotta pay bills and go to work everyday. It's horrible. Only good thing that came out of it is Sarah. She keeps me going," he said. I smiled.

"She is pretty great. I love hanging out with her. She has one sense of humor." Joel laughed and I felt my stomach flutter. 'Get it together, yn, he's like eighteen years older than you.' "Yeah, she does. I think she might get it from you. Think ya might be a bad influence," he said. I leaned over and lightly pushed his shoulder. "Hey! I am not! She gets it from you. She's just like her daddy," I said. He stood up, a fond smile on his face. "Yeah I suppose you're right." He washed his plate, dried it and put it back.

I stood up and stretched. "Well, now that I know you ate I will let you get to bed. I have class tomorrow anyway so I better get to bed myself." Joel walked me to the door. "Thanks again, yn. Really appreciate it." I turned and looked at him, "you really gotta stop doing that, Mr. Miller. I'll see you tomorrow." I walked to my car, got in, backed up, and went the couple feet to my driveway.

[daisyblinder]

Buttercup //Denver “Bull” Randleman x reader

🌼Warnings: soft nsfw, dry humping, cursing

🌼Summary: Two best friends from Arkansas finally come to a place where they cannot hide their love

Requested by : @krispybearbouquet

I hope you like it, love! Sorry for the delay 🧡

Riding her bicycle with a fast pace along the dirt road Y/n cannot wipe the wide smile off of her face. She was going to see her Denver.

Denver Randleman. The giant of a man who stole her heart, her best friend.  

They had agreed to go walk along the field now that the hay was made. Both of them finally having some freetime and the weather was the most wonderful.

They had spent a lot of time walking around those fields, talking, playing with her dog Poppy, working, so much they had shared.

”Slow down there, buttercup or you might hit your head”, his drawl comes as she reaches their yard. She sticks her tongue out, jumping off from the seat and walking over to him.

”Didn’t you say you’d always catch me?”, she teases smiling. Bull shakes his head smiling taking the bike off from her hands and putting it against the wall of the house.

"Ain't gonna promise that a slow bull like will make it in time to catch a speedster like that but I guarantee you, buttercup, won't be from the lack of trying" he teases before taking the smiling girl under his arm and starting off towards their field.

***

”You’ve been awfully quiet, Denver”, Y/n frowns picking out a drop seed and tampering  with it. 

She knew the things were not alright in the world, she knew and she had been angsty to do something about it. She also knew that her Denver had been too.

”I ’ave buttercup, I have”, he sighs stopping his walking and staring at the glaring sun. Y/n’s frown deepens as she takes a step closer to him.

Denver turns to her taking both of her hands into his. ”I’ve enlisted”, he rumbles. Y/n’s eyes widen lightly, her ears not processing the information.

”Enlisted?”

”To the paratroopers”, his words cause her eyes to well up as she moves to wrap her arms around his barrel like chest. Her eyes stay wide open, her arms squeasing him like a vice.

”Buttercup?”, Denver asks quietly arms wrapping around the shocked woman, one hand coming to stroke her hair. He can feel her shaking and soon he starts hearing sniffles and sobs. He can feel and hear her mumble something against his chest.

”Darling, what are you sayin’ there?”, he croons pushing her away lightly cupping her face. She tries to make her breathing stable to tell him but she can’t meet his eyes.

”I-I’ve never, I’ve never told you-”, she sobs her breathing turning erratic again. Denver’s eyes fill with concern, as he starts trying to gently soothe her.

”Shh shh shh, darling, breathe darling. What haven’t you told me?”, he tries to calm her.

Y/n takes a grip of Denver’s shirt and turns to look at him fully. ”I love you!”

Denver Randleman rarely felt like his feet could just turn to jelly and give up from under him but this, this was something new to him entirely.

 The woman, he from since he was a kid, dreamed of marrying was confessing her love to him. Just before he left for an uncertain future if any future at all.

Her frightened, embarrassed eyes cause him to shake his head. ”Oh darling”, he whispers cupping her face and pulling her lips against his own in the August sunset.

**

A dirty thumb runs over a worn photo of a smiling woman, cigar smoke soon washing over the black and white scene. 

Denver could not explain how much he missed his Buttercup. Their tearful goodbyes and the I love you’s that had been said without being able to have their time to cherish it.

”You miss your girl, Bull?”, Johnny asks from next to him. He knew what it felt like to miss the woman who owned your heart and he had seen how much it ate Bull sometimes to look at the photo of his darling.

”Every damn day”, Denver admits putting the photo back into his pocket.

**

Nurses were running around the tent where Bull sat. He just needed to get his shoulderblade checked nothing else, so he waited for the red cross girls to work on the other men first. If he were a lesser man he would curse Winters and Roe for putting him there.

But he could not, they were only looking out for him. Once he gets it done, the night is so dark he is put to one of the makeshift tents to sleep in. Surprisingly it was empty, apart from him, not that the size of it was that big either.

The tents full of the badly injured were too full, he just needed a little place to stay and that’s what they arranged. It was a luxury to have this.

”Is he here, did you really say Randleman?”, a familiar frantic voice comes from the other side of the tent as the flap of it opens.

If Bull ever believed in angels it was in that moment. Even in her messy hair, blood stained hands and sweaty state, she looked an angel to him.

”Oh darling”, she whispers before throwing her arms around him. Bull catches her with an equally tight grip, fighting the tears that threaten to escape his eyes.

 Her scent, even through the blood and death, there was her in there. Her softness, her warmth, all the things he thought as home.

”My buttercup”, he chuckles pushing her away and holding her at arms length. Gently twirling her around, Bull checks her for any injuries. ”You got stationed here?”, he wonders bringing her back to stand between his legs pressing his forehead against her own.

”Kiss me before the questions”, she pleads before taking a hold of his face and pulling his lips against her own, their kiss is sloppy and greedy. Full of desperation.

But when her hands reach his shoulders, she suddenly starts to pat at the bandage there. Eyes opening mid kiss, she looks at the bandage before pulling away. ”What happened to you? How big is it, let me see?”, she says trying to get away from his hold to take a look but Bull keeps a tight hold on her waist.

”A little hole, dressed and all better. Can lift me arms and no pain”, he says sternly, getting her to stop struggling. Y/n looks at him with sad eyes before returning her arms against his shoulders.

The moment she had heard his name, her friends had told her to go to him. They would let her have this moment, there were too little chances in the war. Too many risks were out there for her not to take the moment with the man she loves. 

For a while they just talk in hushed tones. Both telling where they have been and how they ended where they are, neither admitting the horrors they had seen, but both of them knew. Both of them knew that there was so much more pain and horror than they were able to express. 

What mattered to them now was the fact that they had a chance to see each other, feel each other, hell even just smell each other. 

”I’ve missed you so much”, she whispers ghosting her lips against his own. He rumbles a soft mmm from his chest, fully pressing her lips to his now fully.

Gently he helps her to climb onto his lap, legs astride him. ”Is this appropriate?”, she asks shyly looking around afraid someone would walk in.

”Ain’t nothing wrong with loving your man”, he smiles making her giggle and kiss him again. Soon their kisses turn more heated, his hands moving to guide her hips to move against his lap.

”Den-denver”, Y/n whimpers her covered slit rubbing along the seam of his pants. Denver moves his kisses along her neck enticing more little sounds from her, covered by the sound of jeeps and chattering outside.

”I won’t have you here, my buttercup. This ain’t the place for a girl like you to be laid down. When we make love, we’ll be making it in a bed. But damn I’ve missed ya”, he says rubbing his covered hard-on harder against her.

”I-I love you”, she whispers breathlessly holding onto his shoulders for dear life, as his bulge keeps rubbing her clit over and over again. Her own hips start to move faster as they both pant, their releases nearing faster with all the waiting they have done.

”Love you too, so much, darling”, Denver growls starting to snap his hips upwards against her, a surprised squeak leaving her, her eyes closing.

Denver can feel her whole body trembling in his arms, and soon she is whispering his name like a mantra, falling apart right on his lap.

After some time her whimpers turn pained from the sensitivity and he stops his movements, letting her sag against him. He would take care of himself later.

”The moment we go back to Arkansas I will be putting a ring on that pretty finger”, he whispers pulling her exhausted form tighter against him, nose against her hair.

Y/n humms happily cuddling into his neck.

”And I will finally be Mrs. Randleman”

"you'll still be Buttercup to me"

"Please"

[celebrimbor-apologist]

Rings of Power Liveblog 2x06

Spoilers you guys

I’m not ready you guys fucking hell

At least the promo picture is not Tyelpe losing it this time haha

Okay let’s go. Im scared. 

Hey at least we are still at rating 12 years hahahaha

Why do I always watch the recap I already know what happened but…

I just realised that Durin doesn’t even doubt Celebrimbor, just Annatar. And Tyelpe’s face. Oh my dearest silverfist I want to kidnap you from Eregion. PleASE. Gotta re-read that fanfic my friend wrote after this 

Hey Arondir is running that’s okay, for a second I was worried they made Elrond run EVEN MORE. I love Arondir in action. I love Arondir. I don’t care much about the southlands sadly but I do care Arondir. 

Oh. MAP. Wait. 

OH TOWER.

Monologue <3

Oh Tyelpe no. HOLY CRAP. WHAT. Ohohohoh 

OH FUCK FUCK NO. 

HE IS NEVER MEAN TO--

HE FORGOT HER NAME HE FORGOT MIRDANIA’S NAME IM NOT OKAY IM NOT OKAY IM NOT OKAY NONONONONONoo 

whatdoyoumean he can Shout stop it stop it

oh he remembers when HE comes in 

oh no i hate this i hate this please please stop. 

OH. NO. 

ANNATAR. NO. GO AWAY. 

“I am well” No you are not. The fucking ring theme coming in. 

Oh no. Oh NO. I just skipped back ten seconds and he- the shards and the mess is all gone. Annatar what have you done please please please

ANNATAR YOU FUCKING BASTARD DIE IN A HOLE TYELPE SAID NO SUCH THING 

And now Celebrimbor is alone in the forge and everyone else thinks it’s good. 

“and pray” BITCH. “pray that he finishes his work before it finishes him” I am unwell I am unwell I am unwell.

Oh Mirdania 

OH FUCK OFF SAURON LEAVE HER BE. 

Mirdania I love you. Run away. Take Tyelpe. 

Yes Annatar, gather your skirties and walk up the stairs 

Omg the smile. 

Ah, yes, Galadriel and Adae at dinner. Must be nice. 

Oh Adar you GET it. 

He promised you what. Adar. Uh. Yeah moving on-

OH THE CROWN

Morgoth’s Crown 

omg this dramatic bitch. He wears what could kill him, huh? 

omg Adar KNOWS it. Is he kneeling??? “the fate of that city now rests on your ability to put aside your pride” and he already has. He already put it aside. And kneels. Fuck 

Oh Sam Hazeldine you GENIUS 

NÚMENOR 

Pharazon die in a fckign ditch and take Sa-

ELENDIL ELENDIL NOOOO 

Fucking Kevin with his arm in a sling. 

“I do” 

“I do not” 

Oh Elendil i love you you insane- Oh I love him. 

Oh, Pharazon is pissed at his son huh 

Eärien listen girlie i didn’t much care for you and then I understood your grief and how alone you felt but you could really, really back out now. Please? 

Oh hi Stranger. 

TOM TO THE RESCUE

Oh hi Nori! Harfoots travel every month? 

Gundabale I love you. 

Oh Nori, still looking for that destiny 

Merimac and Poppy huh? That was a fast burn, but I am not mad about it. She’s been lonely enough. 

“I say we fight for it” Oh I love him 

TOM (yes, this will forever be my reaction) 

ASDFGHJKL Tom is like “Let him find his stick in that mess”

“you must choose” I am Unwell. 

Gandalf having to choose between his friend and his destiny? I…AnD TOM IS GONE HAHAHAHA

Khazad Dum Theme my lovely 

Wait, it sounds different, it sounds… less. 

Is that just what they do now? Make gold treasure? I see now why people say the Arkenstone was a silmaril. Mithril is the light of a silmaril, isn’t it? 

OH FUCK. 

ANNATAR FUCK OFF

Timber, huh? 

“precious” huh 

Annatar getting rejected and not liking it meanwhile Sideeye by Durin. I love it. This is a man who has never been told no. 

King Durin losing it to Greed. 

“You belong to it” Oh Durin you have such a good heart I can barely cope. HOLY SHIT 

Durin are you okay?? No I don’t think so. 

Disa the amount of love I have for you? 

Durin crying <3 Oh love. 

Oh sea trial here we go. Funky horns. 

Eärien hellooo girl you are teenage rebellion gone too far but I love you. I get both sides and they are both breaking my heart. she is getting manipulated left and right and- 

Míriel???? MÌRIEL??? 

MÌRIELLLLL I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I MISSED YOU MY LOVE I MISSED YOU 

Eärien you are forgiven now get another dad hug. 

“What of my heart” OW

“What if it isn’t”. DOUBLE OW

“the sea is always right” 

Oh my heart. My heart is breaking apart to shatters. Oh my loves

DISA HI MY QUEEN

Narvi just try moving her if you want to lose, uh- 

SHE IS JUST SCREAMING AT THEM. 

OMG DISAAAAAAAA  

I AM CELEBRATING IN MY SEATTTTTT

“I LOVE YOU”

“Love me later.” 

THEMMMMMM 

Númenor is so beautiful

Oh the theme in the background. The theme. 

Omg they devised a plan huh??? 

Namarie. Namarie. They said Namarie. Bury me now. 

Oh I’m so not fine. He is crying. Nononono. I am sobbing please Ulmo, please-

Míriellllll

I am rooting for her 

QUEEN OF THE SEA 

QUEEN OF THE SEA 

Pharazon has Palantir+ Huh

Galadriel scheming I love you 

ELROND MENTION (I miss him) 

My ring huh 

“What then for the Uruk” yeah he SEES it. 

HOOOO BOY 

HOOOOOOOOOOOOO BOYYYYYYYY 

Yeah, Adar is going to die. 

Galadriel tastes some of Elrond’s medicine now, huh? 

THE SIEGE BEGINS HUH 

And they all see it. 

Malendol is the commander’s name, huh? You are now officially adopted. There’s this elf named Vorohil who I’d like to introduce you to. 

And he just watches. Annatar just watches. 

Art therapy Celebrimbor <3

And he can’t leave the forge huh 

what 

YES GET HIS ASS TYELPE

when I tell you I screamed

AGAINST THE WALL 

The quote it is the quote the quote

nononono

Oh no. 

OH DEAR No

I can’t

So this is the scene

Ow ow ow ow ow 

Am I weeping? Well let me tell you I’m not revelling in this diner tonight

all is fine outside and this hurts 

I cannot forge more rings 

be at ease 

no do not be at ease. 

The ring song theme. 

I give up 

“precious” 

THE FUCKING HAMMER 

I KNEW IT WOULD BE THE SCENE BEST FEANOR NONONONONONONNNKKJNKJN GUDIjlwneköjbvühfbi

One last time. 

Oh I hate this I hate this I hate this please please please.

I knew it. And he is just walking around there. 

The siege begins. 

find me in the garden where I shall be buried because I am dead 

I screamed less than last episode I feel

Fuck I knew this was gonna happen but I love Eregion so much 

I miss Elrond. 

[bough-25]

I've messed up, ma

After the events of the meeting

After a long but short trip, he finally made it to the home of the Country Trolls. Bough was still shaking with anxiety and fear, he didn't notice that he forgot to wear his country clothes that his mother figure (Detla Dawn) and Frontier's Moms made for him and his friends. The others knew him and his friends for a long time but he never came out here without his friends (where are they and what happened to them).

He finally made it to Mrs. Dawn's home and knocked, he waited until she opened the door and greeted him (she didn't notice how shaking he was)

Dawn: Oh! Bough, I didn't expect you to come! (looking around for the others) where the other'?

Bough remains still and quiet, his hair was covering his face and blowing with the breeze

Dawn: Bough... Kiddo, what happened. (She says with worried and fearing the worst)

Dawn: come on in hon.

She noticed that her kid was hurting, not physically but both emotionally and mentally. So she helped him settle down and put together his favorite snack, biscuits and strawberry jam (she made the biscuits earlier that day for her and her lovely partners, who were currently out doing business) she also noticed that he still had both his 'horns' and gently asked 'what happened hon' , she wanted for him to answer and the only thing he could say was 'Barb is coming for strings and she ain't holding back.' than he look up, tears running down, and says 'I-I'm scared, ma, I don't know what to do.'

That broke Mrs. Dawn' heart and soul, she never heard him so small and scared, and quickly hugged him with one of her mama bear hugs and comforted him (the dam broke and he sobs and hugged her back). After a while, Bough finally calmed down and put himself together, him and his ma talked about a plan and other things along the lines.

Detla Dawn asked Bough if he wanted to sing with her and the townsfolk but he declined the offer, saying next time. So, she sings (Born to Died), while townsfolk and herself were singing and dancing. A group of Pop Trolls (Poppy, Biggie (and Mr. Twinkle), and Clay) finally made it to town, Poppy comments about how sad the song is and Clay responds that life can be sad and he kinda likes the song, of course Poppy thinks that the country trolls didn't know how to be happy and (just like in the movie) Poppy and the gang was locked up for that disgrace to all music. Poppy tried to explain what Barb was planning something big but got cut off by Detla saying that she knows about Barb's plan and added you and your pals stay in there and think about what y'all have done and walked away.

Bough never heard Pop before (and he hates how it is very loud and bright) he was about (and tried) to find the Funk Trolls until in the corner of his eyes, he saw Hickory (in his country troll cover) helping the Pop trolls to escape and of course Mrs. Dawn wasn't happy about that and so the chase was on, knowing her kids, Bough joined in the chase and actually caught up with them and Hickory. Poppy and the others were scared of Bough (they didn't know how fast he ran on all fours plus his 'horns' and glowing Red eyes) but Hickory knows Bough and how crazy fast he was:

Hickory: Hey kid! Ya better slow down a bit, we're about close to a cliff.

Bough continues to run along them, knowing how much he deeply hates to jump, but like a ol' saying 'fuck it'

All five of them stopped in mid air (I hope ya, Pop trolls know how to swim) and fell into the river below them.

[julietpricee]

Here’s a little preview of my Ominis x Sharp x MC fanfic!

Give it some love and read the full thing over on Wattpad 🥳❤️

Forbidden Desires

I sprung up in my bed covered in a thick sweat - I was gasping for air and gripping the bed sheets with white knuckles. I had been replaying the events of today on a loop in my head, it's as if it had cursed my thoughts, it's all I could think of when I was awake and all I could see when I shut my eyes.

If I'd have told them about the dragon... maybe...

I felt like I couldn't breathe.

I looked over to Poppy who hadn't stirred, she was fast asleep clutching onto her stuffed niffler. The room was dark and the common room was silent, it must have been the early hours of the morning.

Gasping for air I jumped out of bed, still dressed in my clothes from yesterday. I don't remember falling asleep and even worse I don't remember how to get out of the castle.

Quickly but quietly, I leave the common room navigating a long corridor and running up a set of stairs. I notice the four tall hourglasses at the end of the hall which I passed earlier with Fig. I run out the door, down the stairs and finally I'm met with fresh air.

I can breathe.

The bitter cold ate at my skin as I pushed open the door. In my rush, I had forgotten my coat and stood in the open feeling bare. It was the end of summer and the nights had gotten cold fast.

As I catch my breath I walk through the courtyard. Four tall stone walls surrounded me, looking like they had been created by the gods themselves. All of the castle did. Every inch of every surface stood with purpose.

I approach a large stone railing at the end of the courtyard and rest my hands on it admiring the view. Miles and miles of highlands surrounded the castle, every inch calling at me to be explored. I could see a small town in the distance and despite it being early hours of the morning it was still bursting full of life.

"Wow" I say to myself.

"That's Hogsmeade in the distance" a quiet voice states from behind me.

I jump and swiftly turn around. I am greeted by a tall, slim blond boy. He was leaning against the courtyard wall behind me smoking a cigarette. His top button was undone and his green tie lay loosely around his neck.

"I didn't mean to make you jump sorry, I'm Ominis Gaunt".

"Juliet Price" I say as I lean back against the railing. "I just needed some air, I didn't see you there".

Ominis steps closer and leans against the railing next to me. He pulls out another cigarette and offers it to me. I place it in my mouth.

"Do you have a light?"

He pulls out his wand and uses it to light my cigarette. "Thank you".

"So, I'm guessing you're the new fifth year?" I nod. "You certainly had a memorable arrival".

I take a drag of my cigarette. "I suppose that's one way to put it".

"The rumour is a dragon attack, is that even remotely close?" He asks.

"Unfortunately yes. We were with one of Professor Fig's friends from the ministry and he didn't..." I stop myself from continuing and take a deep breathe. I turn back around to admire the view again. Ominis follows suit. There's a strangely comfortable silence between us for a few moments.

"If you want to talk, I'm out here most nights... never been one for sleeping through the night" he smiles warmly at me. I smile back.

"I bet you never get bored of this view" I quickly change the subject.

"I've heard it's marvellous" he replies. I look at him strangely. "I'm blind dear"

"Oh, I had no idea sorry".

We stood there in each other company for what felt like an eternity. His presence was so comforting, no awkwardness, no pushing for details, we just existed together in silence. A cold wind blew making me shiver, I didn't want to return to my common room yet, I wasn't ready for another couple of hours of nightmares but the cold had different plans.

"Here" Ominis removed his cloak and placed it over my shoulders.

How did he know?

"I can't Ominis, you'll freeze" I protested. He gently shook his head and walked back over to the courtyard wall. He sat down with his back leaning against it somehow not bothered by the cold stone. I paused, standing in place, watching how gentle his presence was. After a moment I walked over to him and slid down the side of the wall joining him on the floor.

I may have imagined it but I swear he leaned closer to me making our arms rest against each others. I could feel his warmth despite having given me his cloak.

"Is it always that cold in the castle? I feel like we'd both be able to sleep through better if you guys knew how to keep buildings warm"

He smirked. "You guys? You're one of us now you know! Anyway, you'd be a lot warmer if you didn't walk around dressed for the heat of summer".

I laugh. "Or the school could provide us with a nice warm blanket that wasn't the thickness of a hair".

We sat together in silence for a while, watching the view and exchanging subtle glances. Before long Ominis stood up and reached his hand down towards me pulling me up off the floor. "I think we should try and get some sleep, it'll be morning before we know it and you can't be tired on your first day".

Reluctantly I agreed. I removed his cloak and handed it back to him instantly missing the warmth and the vague smell of vanilla and mint. He removed his wand from his pocket and held it out in front of him producing a dull red glow from the tip of it. We walked through the castle together before he left me at the top of the stairs leading down to the Hufflepuff common room.

"Sleep well Juliet" he whispered.

"You too Ominis, it was lovely to meet you".

With that I walked back to my dorm and crawled back into bed suddenly feeling a lot more comforted than before.

[just-some-random-blogger]

I'm devastated. I feel like my brain was plugged and unplugged and plugged and unpl

[...] you cannot forget water is wet, [...]

So I'm here to tell you there is a debate if water is wet and please just unplug my brain

Just last week, he had dyed your beloved white dog green, [...]

How the fuck?????

He can never decide if he hates you or loves you. [...] His bad mood escalates during the day, and when your father arrives for lunch and dares ruffle your hair, Daemon doesn't hesitate to call you a cocksucker whore.

“NO!” Daemon shrieks, face blotchy from the humiliation of his mouth being washed with soap.

DESERVE 🗣️AND🗣️ID🗣️MAKE🗣️HIM🗣️DO🗣️IT🗣️AGAIN🗣️

“She is the reason mother is dead. I hate her.”

Never in your life had you ever cried so. A nervous fit, the Maester will call it later, after you puke your lunch and stop making heaving noises like you are lacking air. One caused by extreme distress. Daemon will be standing guard at the foot of your bed when you come to be again. They had ended up having to give you three drops of Milk of the Poppy to calm you down.

OH NO IF IT ISNT THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS

There was no point in fixing your relationship, or trying to win you over like he did with the other maidens. You were a given thing. No matter your shared past, you would have to marry him.

I would like to put him on a spit and roast him

“Do I need to protect your honor?” [...] Daemon hates when other people touch what is his.

How daemon of him

“What do you mean?” Your statement has clarified nothing. He feels more confused than before. Perhaps, you have a secret lover who refuses to take your maidenhead? Or are you suffering from unrequited love? But when? With whom? You spend nearly all your time in the library, pouring over dusty books, or on dragonback. Not much time for entertaining suitors.

He's so pathetic but why do I love him so

“Knights would kiss you too if they could. But you are too superior to them. They wouldn’t dare.” Or they would meet Dark Sister. All your first should be his. “It’s excellent that you have not sullied yourself with just any knight who looks at you.”

“But I am getting old.”

💀💀✋ hello?????

Dragons shouldn’t concern themselves with the opinion of the sheep.

Ok tywin lannister

But before he has a chance, you give him a shove and run as fast as you can.

And he stands there, as if struck by lighting, pinned down by the unmeasurable realization that this is love.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH DESERVE AND ALSO I HAVE TO SAY THE WAY YOU WROTE THE SECOND PART IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND LOVELYE AND DESERVEEEEDDDD HAHAHAHAHHAH DIEEEEE

“… A dragon for half an hour.” It was a woman. Her hair was dark and hanging limp around her face. She swayed as she walked. “My prince, I will let you choke me.”

Ok 1- that's so sad .... But also 2- ..... Why do I wanna say I'd let him do it for free. LOBOTOMY

You had never questioned the role of whores. They were sullied women, but they served a purpose. Entertain the men so they didn’t hurt others. Tend to their baser needs. It didn’t feel so clear-cut as you avoided the woman, in fear she might attempt to service you.

It's almost as if men taint them 🤔 it's almost like it's their cocks that are the fucking problem

It was said that they met only once a day, thanks to the mercy of Gaelithox, who allowed the twins to embrace every sunset. It was the reason Meraxes hated him. He held on to her too strong, and prevented her from embracing the one who she truly loved. He invaded even her reflection, seeking to make himself a part of her, even invading her sacred reflection in the waters of her twin.

❗❗❗❗HELLO? IS THIS ACTUAL ASOIAF LORE COS HOLY SHIT IT LOOKS IT ITS INCREDIBLE WHAT REGARDLESS YOU WROTE IT SO BEAUTIFULLY

GIRL I COPIED THE WRONG PARAGRAPH THE PART WHERE HE GAVE HER HIS CLOAK [HEADSHOT]

“Lēkia.” You press a kiss to his cheek, unsure if you should greet him like you always do, or the betrothal has changed the protocol. Kissing his cheek as you always do seems safer, but you regret it when his eyes flutter closed at your touch.

TOUCH DEPRIVED SHE HAS HIM WRAPPED AROUND HER PINKIEEEEEEE IM GOBBLING THIS UP LIKE CHOCOLATE ECLAIRS

He is acting odder than usual. In an increasingly out-of-character charm offensive, he takes off his cloak and places it on the grass.

Ok but delulu contest but you're up against daemon I love him though hes just a confused rat who grew up in a deeply patriarchal society where aggression is rewarded. OK MAYBE HE WASNT DELULU AND I JUST THOUGHT THIS MEME WOULD BE FUNNYYYY JSNSSK

“Despite my struggles, I have come to admire you.” Daemon noses along the hair right above your ear. “Rationality has left me, and no matter how hard I try, you haunt me at every corner, every hallway, every street of this damned city.”

I love this for him. Cristi (can I call you that) you are an incredible writer this is amazing what if I die

“What am I supposed to say?” You complain, with a frown. You push him a little, to be able to meet his eyes.“I am well aware of your attempts at forgetting. Valyrian whores, Daemon? Really?”

DESERVED BEAT HIS ASS

“Let me take down your hair.” Daemon begs. The ardent tone in his voices surprises you. He sounds like a man possessed. As if he cannot survive if you deny him. “Hāedus...”

DONT U FUCKING TOUCH ME

“I want you to be mine. Put me out of my misery.” Daemon begs, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Marry me, and end my suffering.”

No cuz you got me CHEESING IT DIDNT HELP MY SISTER WAS PLAYING GUITAR AND IT WAS SWEET AND I WAS LIKE OH SNAP ITS DRAMA THE DRAMA IS DRAMAING AND IM ON DAEMONS SIDE FUXK FUCK FUKC

“Together. You wanted knights to ask you to.” Daemon pulls you close, into a hug, and the puzzle pieces finally fit. The day he had kissed you, you had been crying because no one had asked you to dance. That Daemon remembers the reason when you had nearly forgotten it yourself astonishes you. “Now a Prince asks you. Do not make me ask twice, please.”

DAEMON FUCKING TARGARYEN MR. I ONLY GOT KNIGHTED SO I COULD FULFILL MY SISTER'S DESIRE TO BE ASKED TO DANCE BY A KNIGHT WHAT IF THIS WAS MY LAST STRAW

The only thing I hate about this fic is that it ends 😔 And THATS NOT ME TRYING TO PRESSURE YOU INTO WRITING MORE IS JUST I FEEL MY BRAIN BEING PLUGGED AND UNPLUGGED AND PLUGGED AND UNPLUGGED AND PL

Two ships (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Two people who do not understand each other, but keep coming back together. Familiar much? It’s the tale you share with your brother, Daemon.

Warnings: Crybaby! Reader. Medieval punishment for children. Canon character death (Alyssa and Baelor) Sexual thoughts. Prostitution. Mature language. Incest. Fluff.

A/N: In which we explore the complicated dynamics of the sister wife. Requested. We also suscribe to @just-some-random-blogger doctrine about Daemon being a scary unhinged man but soft for the reader.

THE FIRST TIME your brother makes you cry is when you are eight years old. It is, of course, not the first time you tear up because of him. But there is a difference between tearing up because he tugged too hard on your braid, or because he cut your favorite doll’s hair and what he did to you that day.

You shall never forget the reason for your mother’s death, not for the rest of your life. It’s one of those core memories, a truth of the universe. You cannot forget fire burns, you cannot forget water is wet, and you cannot forget your mother is dead because of you. Even if you do not know when you learned those facts, they are still there. Tucked into your mind.

As a child, you used to be quiet. You barely cried, or demanded things of anyone. As the youngest and only girl of the household, you often felt like there was an unbreachable gap between you and your family. And so, you filled your days with your lessons, and behaved well, eager for praise and attention.

Your relationship with your brothers was complicated. Your father was often far away, busy with his important position, so Viserys felt more like a parent than a sibling. The age difference didn’t help things along. While you were still learning how to walk, his betrothal was already negotiated.

Daemon, while much closer in age, is much more distant too. He is mercurial, playing the cruelest tricks on you, but also defending you from other children. Just last week, he had dyed your beloved white dog green, but he had also punched a steward’s son for mocking your braids.

He can never decide if he hates you or loves you. And today, it’s one of the days he hates you. You can’t do anything right, it seems. As you break your fast, with Viserys cutting up your food for you, he calls you a baby. When the Septa comes to get you for your lessons, you are a suck-up. His bad mood escalates during the day, and when your father arrives for lunch and dares ruffle your hair, Daemon doesn't hesitate to call you a cocksucker whore.

For his offense, his mouth is washed with soap. It is not a punishment you have ever endured, because everyone knows ladies don’t get physical punishments, but it looks unpleasant. Whatever cocksucker whore means mustn't be very nice.

By the time his punishment is over, your father is long gone again. He has disappeared into his chambers, and Viserys has been left with the bitter task of reconciling you.

“You will apologize to our sister.” He orders Daemon. “Now.”

“NO!” Daemon shrieks, face blotchy from the humiliation of his mouth being washed with soap. He has not shed a single tear, which you find admirable despite yourself. The taste alone would make you gag, and that is without including the humiliation of a servant holding you while Viserys does the deed.

You feel awkward at the thought. Something doesn’t sit right with the thought of such a thing being a punishment, but you do not dare voice it. You simply sit in the chair Viserys has pulled for you and kick your feet. It soothes you slightly.

“Take it back, Daemon or so help me the Seven…”

“I will not take it back!” Daemon screams, pushing at Viserys. “She is a little whore! She has you all wrapped around her little finger, and now you will send me away…”

“Daemon.” Viserys grabs his wrists, in warning. With several years and a growth spurt on his side, he manages to subdue him easily. You worry that will not be the case for much longer. Daemon looks very different from your peaceful Viserys, shoulders broader, hands a bit bigger. In a few years, he will become a fearsome warrior, and Viserys will still be your bookish older brother.

“Why do I have to go squire for some stupid lord, anyway? We are the blood of the dragon! We do not need those fools.” At this new information, you frown. You clutch your doll more tightly. No one had informed you Daemon had to go squire away from Viserys and you.

“Fostering is important. It helps us form bonds with other houses.” Viserys explains, with the patience of someone who has had this argument already. You tug on your doll, feeling sadder by the minute. Everyone knew but you?

“Why don’t we send her away?” Daemon points at you, and a sudden wave of fear hits you. Viserys can’t agree with him. You cannot leave. Your panic almost makes you miss his next words. “She is the reason mother is dead. I hate her.”

And the world stops for a second. The argument goes on, Viserys screaming at Daemon, but you are still stuck there. Your ears begin to ring, so you press your hands tightly to them and shake your head.

By the Seven, Daemon is right, you realize with growing horror. Your father and Septa always told you your mother had died the way you were born, from the difficult birth. Tears begin to fall down your face, but you barely notice them. It feels like you are choking.

In your childish mind, the death of your mother in childbirth, and your birth had never been connected. You never thought it had been your fault. But Daemon was right. She was dead because she had birthed you. It was your birth that killed her.

Her death was your fault. You killed her.

No. No. It can’t be right.

“That is not true.” You turn to Viserys, uncaring they have long since moved on with the argument. He has always protected you and reassured you. Even takes care to get rid of the monsters beneath your bed every night. He will fix it. “Brother, he is lying again!”

Viserys makes a strange face. A cross between a grimace and a frown. He doesn’t refute it, nor tries to comfort you.

“It’s the truth.” Daemon smiles, with the smugness of someone who has delivered a killing blow. He advances, his eleven-year-old body seeming larger than life to you, and pokes a finger in your sternum. “You killed her.”

It feels like a rug has been pulled from under your feet. You stumble back. It’s all your fault. Your mother is dead, and your father is never home, haunted by the memory of his wife, because of you. Daemon and Viserys lost their mother, because of you.

You killed her. You killed her. You killed her. The world looks the same around you, despite the revelation, and you wonder if it is so because everyone knew but you. Is it why Daemon doesn’t love you? Why father is never around?

A sob makes its way out of your throat, and then another. And another. Soon, you are bawling like a dying animal, and feel like it too. You cry so much, your little heart feels like it will jump out of your chest and you will die. You cannot breathe, choking in your own snot and tears, and panic makes you nauseous.

Never in your life had you ever cried so. A nervous fit, the Maester will call it later, after you puke your lunch and stop making heaving noises like you are lacking air. One caused by extreme distress. Daemon will be standing guard at the foot of your bed when you come to be again. They had ended up having to give you three drops of Milk of the Poppy to calm you down.

It doesn’t happen again, and you barely remember it when you grow up. But Daemon never forgets it.

CRYING IS A weakness that cannot be tolerated. The three of you had been born dragons, but sometimes Daemon doubted Viserys and you had as much fire in your veins as he did.

Said doubt intensifies when he finds you crying in the gardens. Daemon has never been fond of crying women. He is not an empathetic man, and has a tendency to think he is surrounded by fools. Such a character trait doesn’t lend itself to soothing crying maidens. At least, not sincerely.

If he wants to bed the chit, Daemon can pretend like the best mummer. It’s not hard at all to fool highborn maidens into thinking he shares something special with them, convincing them that the pain won’t last, that it will start to feel good soon. When it comes to you, though, the problems start.

You are not a common whore, like most women at court. As a daughter of House Targaryen, you are closer to a goddess than a woman. Fooling a goddess is no easy task, much less when the goddess knows you so well.

His usual tricks do not work. When Daemon tries to apply faux pity, and forced pleasantries, you see right through him. It’s not because you are particularly cunning, but rather the fact that you have a long memory.

Long enough to remember all the pranks and fun he had had at your expense when the two of you were children. With how much Daemon tortured you, it’s no wonder you prefer Viserys.

Daemon never meant to be as nasty to you as he had been. He coveted the attention Viserys paid you, as the youngest in the family. He disliked how everyone fawned over you, how his mother had died, and his father had left, and all they had gotten in exchange was you.

Another part of Daemon simply enjoyed mischief. Causing chaos for chaos’s sake. Like any young boy, he had fun playing tricks on others. The disdain he felt for you had made you into the ideal target.

When the years began to pass, Daemon had noticed you were flourishing into a beautiful maiden. Targaryen custom dictated you were meant to be his, since you were too young to be Viserys’. There was no point in fixing your relationship, or trying to win you over like he did with the other maidens. You were a given thing. No matter your shared past, you would have to marry him.

It’s only the fact that you are embarrassing the family name that prompts him to approach you in the gardens. He has no intention of comforting you. It’s not like he cares that you are crying. Really. How ridiculous.

“What happened to you?” Daemon asks, sitting next to you. “Princess shouldn’t cry.”

It is quite recent, of course. Viserys' ascension to the throne has not actually yet occurred, but the succession issue has been settled in their favor. Daemon had gathered a small force of loyal men that hadn’t been necessary in the end, but Viserys said his first act as King would be rewarding him from his loyalty.

He knows what he will ask for already. Marriage. His grandmother had tried to marry him to a Vale woman, but the idea had ended up being discarded because Viserys’ own match ensured the allegiance of that kingdom. Daemon wanted to have his Valyrian bride before anyone, especially the Hightower cunt, got any ideas.

“Nothing.” You wipe your tears away, angrily. You scoot your cute little rear towards the edge of the tree you are sitting under. As far as you can go without losing the spot of shade.

Daemon sighs. He is used to you being difficult, but it would soon change. You would be informed of your duty and behave in a manner befitting your position in life soon enough.

“Do I need to protect your honor?” The very thought unsettles him. Three years his younger, you are still barely a maiden in his eyes. A pure, unspoiled being. The idea of someone else corrupting your innocence, something that is meant to be his, is infuriating. Daemon hates when other people touch what is his.

If anyone will corrupt you, it’s him.

You laugh, bitterly.

“If only!”

“What do you mean?” Your statement has clarified nothing. He feels more confused than before. Perhaps, you have a secret lover who refuses to take your maidenhead? Or are you suffering from unrequited love? But when? With whom? You spend nearly all your time in the library, pouring over dusty books, or on dragonback. Not much time for entertaining suitors.

You stay quiet. There is a strange expression on your face, a mix of embarrassment and sadness.

“Hāedus.” Daemon prompts, gently tugging on your braid.

“Some ladies Aemma brought were talking about knights, and kissing…” You get a fit of hiccups and nearly choke, so Daemon is forced to wipe the snot from your nose so you don’t suffocate to death. Let it not be said he is a bad brother. “They laughed at me!”

“They laughed at you?” How dare them. Only Daemon was allowed the honor of your tears. You were too important.

“No one asked to dance with me at the feast! And no knight has ever kissed me.” You pout, about to go into hysterics again. “Ever.”

“Doña hāedus…” Daemon wipes your tears, fighting his smile. He has an inkling you wouldn’t think it funny. “You shouldn’t listen to them. You are a Princess, the blood of the dragon. They are just sheep.”

You pout more. Daemon hurries to comfort you. Oddly, he dislikes seeing tears on your face. It must be because you are in public. As a Princess and his future wife, your actions reflect on House Targaryen.

“Ugly sheep. In fact, the actual sheep in the Vale are prettier.”

“But knights have kissed them! And they get asked to dance, and to walk in the gardens, and…”

Daemon raises his hand.

“Knights would kiss you too if they could. But you are too superior to them. They wouldn’t dare.” Or they would meet Dark Sister. All your first should be his. “It’s excellent that you have not sullied yourself with just any knight who looks at you.”

“But I am getting old.”

You are about to cry again. Your female vanity must be hurt, thinking yourself unwanted. Daemon will never understand caring about what others think of him. Dragons shouldn’t concern themselves with the opinion of the sheep.

But there is something about you, the soft little Princess who crumbles up completely when someone is mean to her, that tugs at his heartstrings.

It is why he leans in and captures your mouth with his. You taste like innocence and salt, melting on his tongue. It’s not Daemon’s first kiss, but it feels like it. There is a tug deep inside of him, a strange yearning on his chest, that has not been present when he has kissed other women. Not even maidens.

Cloyingly sweet, dripping on his tongue like the most enticing potion. His. Never has he experienced this before. Daemon wants to drown on it, drown in you. But before he has a chance, you give him a shove and run as fast as you can.

And he stands there, as if struck by lighting, pinned down by the unmeasurable realization that this is love. Love, in its purest form, for his soon-to-be sister wife. It leaves him dazed, confused, rooted to the spot. Utterly out of control.

“DID YOU HEAR?” The serving girl whispers loudly, her voice carrying through the corridor. Night has fallen already, and you pour over a heavy tome on constellations while sitting in one of the windowsills of the Red Keep. It is the best time to put your new knowledge into practice, but the constant chattering of the maids interrupts you.

You close your book, hesitating between scolding them and sending them away, or waiting for them to leave on their own. Scolding them feels unkind. It’s late enough for them to no longer be on duty, and there is no harm in what they are doing. This corridor is a heavily transited one.

Perhaps you should move to your rooms. But you do not have a balcony, and the view from your windowsill it’s quite limited. As you ponder on it, something they say catches your attention.

“And they say the Prince asked for a blonde girl. A maiden.” The Prince. Daemon! You have not seen hide nor hair of your older brother since he stole your first kiss. In fact, you have been avoiding him.

As children, he had played plenty of nasty tricks on you. Once, in a fit of temper, he had beheaded all your dolls and hanged their little heads from a window. But adulthood had mellowed him out. Or so you thought.

The worst thing wasn’t that Daemon stole your first kiss. It was that you enjoyed it.

“No!” The other girl sounds scandalized.

“Yes. And that is not all. He took her roughly, and was kicked out before even…”

Took a whore roughly? You knew he whored around, but hurting whores was a new low. You weren’t too approving of his behavior, but whoring was normal for young lords. Everyone knew they did it, even the most pious ones. Hurting them, though? It was no better than being a rapist.

The other girl lets out a gasp, but she sounds more delighted by the gossip than anything else.

“Imagine how rough it had to be for them to kick him out.”

“I would say plenty. Poor girl.”

“He is out again, is he not?”

“Every night, like clockwork. Something has roused his appetite, it seems. He used to whore, but not…”

Their scandalized voices drift down the corridor, and you think the rumor must be wrong. Daemon wouldn’t hurt anyone. Sure, he whored around, and took plenty of maidenheads, but your brother wasn’t cruel.

Was he?

He had stolen your first kiss. Beyond the softness and the sweetness of the kiss, Daemon had ruined a moment that was meant to be special. Now, it was forever tainted with the memory of being made a mockery of. Not only by those girls, but him too.

There was a difference between stealing a kiss and hurting whores, though. Much more, when it came to hurting them seriously enough to be kicked out of the pleasure house.

Was it your fault? Had he discovered with you he enjoyed taking from women by force? Was he taking out his anger with you on them? The maid had said the girl was blonde. Perhaps Valyrian blonde.

You needed to know. You ran to your rooms and got your black cloak, set on finding him.

Finding Daemon was no easy task. You made it to the city on foot, but once there, you had trouble locating the pleasure houses. There was no sign outwardly pointing to them, but you managed to get to Flea Bottom without getting mugged. Or at least, this looked like what you thought Flea Bottom looked like.

The streets were dirtier, the crowd rougher and drunker. There were people sleeping on the floor, no Sept in sight. This was a place far away from the Gods. The few Goldcloaks patrolling seemed uninterested in actually preventing crime.

You made sure to walk with purpose, afraid of being stopped if you looked like you were out of place. The streets were badly lit, and you could barely tell apart one alley from another.

A sudden tune caught your attention. A woman was singing in a tongue you didn’t recognize. You decided to follow her voice, but before you could do so, someone blocked your path.

“… A dragon for half an hour.” It was a woman. Her hair was dark and hanging limp around her face. She swayed as she walked. “My prince, I will let you choke me.”

You made a face, realizing a strand of your silver hair was peeking on the edge of your hood. She thought you were Daemon, you realized. Both your brother and you kept your hair long, and in the darkness of the alley, with your hood up, you may have looked alike. Was she a whore?

“I’ll let you. A dragon, please, I need to feed my children.”

Children. She had babes. You imagined them, tucked in their beds, wondering where their mother had gone. What if something happened to her? If the children had a present father, he would provide for them, and she wouldn’t be here. It was how the world worked. She must be alone with the babes.

You reached inside your cloak, and pulled out a gold dragon. There was an odd sort of pity building inside you. You imagined yourself, offering up your body to strangers to feed your children, and your heart shattered into little pieces.

You had never questioned the role of whores. They were sullied women, but they served a purpose. Entertain the men so they didn’t hurt others. Tend to their baser needs. It didn’t feel so clear-cut as you avoided the woman, in fear she might attempt to service you.

The voice sounded louder, so you ducked into the next alleyway. It was then you saw them.

The woman singing was sitting at the entrance of a small house. She was scantily clad, as were the surrounding women. But there was only one of them who caught your attention.

She was tall and willowy, with long limbs. There was a haunting elegance to her that looked out of place in the Street of Silk. Her blonde hair was long, and in the right light, could be mistaken for silver. It cascaded down her shoulders. Her face was eerily similar to your own. She was tragically beautiful, stricken by some unseen grief.

Sitting down and clapping along to the song, she looked as if she was praying. There was a dark stain on her neck, cleverly hidden by her hair. The closer you looked, the more it seemed like a bite mark. Not just any bite. A vicious one.

You gasped, hands coming to your mouth to muffle the sound. Whores had never been of concern to you, but now you were seeing their reality, and it was heartbreaking. The thought of women in brothels, in cages, as pleasure slaves, made you want to weep.

Women like you. That she wore your face was even more jarring.

WHEN CARAXES HAD been born, he had not done so alone. Out of the ether, his sister had come, hands linked with his. Meraxes, goddess of the sky, an eternity doomed to hold to her sibling. Caraxes only reflected his twin’s colors, gazing up at her as the flowers did the sun.

It was said that they met only once a day, thanks to the mercy of Gaelithox, who allowed the twins to embrace every sunset. It was the reason Meraxes hated him. He held on to her too strong, and prevented her from embracing the one who she truly loved. He invaded even her reflection, seeking to make himself a part of her, even invading her sacred reflection in the waters of her twin.

The story was always one of your favorites. You begged Viserys every night to tell it to you, sickening Daemon with your romantic tales. He isn’t sure why he is reminded of it today, of all days.

Foreboding, he will think later, when the storm has passed. But now, he chooses to focus on the coronation taking place in front of him, and bask in their triumph.

“Kings reward loyalty.” Viserys says, after the crown is placed on his head by a proud Aemma. “And my first act will be rewarding those that stood by my side.”

Daemon and you are kneeling, the first among the crowd. The first to take a knee to their King. There is a strange feeling in his throat, and he fights the urge to cry. Daemon has always considered tears a weakness, but the moment is so perfect, so magical, he feels the urge to do so.

Men don’t cry. Instead, they take big breaths, and savor their victory. Viserys on the Iron Throne, and Daemon about to be given your hand. All they have ever wanted, now ripe for the taking.

“Brother, please rise.” Viserys' voice is clear and loud. Daemon does so, pleased by the honor of being the first to rise in front of the masses. They had talked about it, of putting up a show for their political enemies, but Daemon had never expected Viserys to grant him honors before any other of his advisors. “Your diplomatic and martial skills were essential to securing my claim. As a reward, I give to you our sister’s hand, and name you my heir. May the two of you have a fruitful union and make House Targaryen proud.”

And when he turns to you, with a smile on his face, he realizes why he remembered the story of Caraxes and Meraxes.

Your beautiful, purple eyes, are wet with tears. You remain on bent knee, frozen.

Daemon pulls you up with the utmost tenderness, one reserved for family alone. The hand on your elbow seems to shake you out of your stupor.

“Thank you, my King.” Your voice trembles, but you speak the words dutifully. You know as well as him that this is Viserys’ day. Everything has to go perfectly. There can’t be any hint of division between the three of you, not when the rallying cry for Viserys had been that he was bringing back the three heads of the dragon.

Three siblings. Three dragonriders. Aegon, Visenya, Rhaenys.

“It is a great honor.” Daemon adds, tightening his grip on your arm. You look ready to bolt, and he is tasked with reminding you that you can’t.

A silent tear travels down your cheek. With your back to the crowd, no one but Viserys and Daemon can see it. Viserys gives him a long look, pleading him to do something. Neither of them had been expecting your reaction.

They had thought you would settle well into your duty. That marriage would give you a stable tether, a shield for your fragile soul. Viserys had chosen Daemon for the honor, had given you to him to care and protect.

But you seem even more scared that you were before. How wrong had they been.

“We are very excited.” Daemon hugs you to him, fighting to keep his composure. Your rejection stings, and he wants to rage, but he can’t. Because you are in public, and House Targaryen doesn’t air their dirty laundry in front of witnesses, but more importantly because your dam is breaking. You let out a little sob, and Daemon has to embrace you fully to prevent you from falling apart.

Fools that they are, the rest of the courtiers mistake it for a sound of joy. What else could you want? To marry the King’s heir, a Valyrian husband who can give you pure Valyrian babes.

“Good.” Viserys smiles, a bit strained. You take a shuddery breath, and straighten up under his arm. Daemon can practically feel the change, from scared girl, to experienced courtier. You know as well as he does the importance of presenting a united front.

You smile. It’s as fake as the silks whores wear, when pretending to be a Targaryen Princess. To the inexperienced masses, it tears all the same.

“How joyful days come ahead. Long live the King!”

You open your arms, the picture of the hopeful bride. The smile threatens to crack your face in two. The crowd cheers. A royal wedding is always something to admire, and there is no better way of celebrating a coronation than with one.

The hour is late when Daemon finally manages to catch Viserys alone. You have gone straight to your rooms after the feast, sulking. Aemma has been sat outside your door for hours by now, trying to coax you out like one would do to a skittish cat. Her talks of duty and royal wombs only got her a pillow to the face for her efforts.

Daemon and Viserys, much more used to your moods, hadn’t bothered. You were angry, but not hysterical. Both often manifested in tears in your case. Only one could prove lethal.

“I do not understand.” Viserys frowns. “What more can she want? The two of you will get Dragonstone, for a few years at least, and when I have an heir, you will not be kicked out. You are family.”

“I do not understand it either.” Underneath the simmering rage Daemon feels, there is only confusion. He is a knight, and has proven his skills sufficiently enough to be awarded Dark Sister. He is of an equal standing to you, a Prince to a Princess. He loves you so deeply it scares him.

The Seven know he has tried to get you out of his head through every means possible. He has deflowered more maidens that he can count this week alone, his cock is chafed raw, and yet, no matter how beautiful they are, your face still haunts him. It’s your name on his lips when he comes, and your body he pictures under him. The whores are never right. Their hair is the wrong shade, they are too thin or too fat, their tears taste of iron instead of your sweet salt.

You should not think it is a bad thing. Women love that sort of thing, leading men by their cocks, getting them so cuntstruck they cannot see straight. You should love it too because it is a weakness to him, but a power you can wield. And yet, you hate it. You had run.

“I cannot go back on my word now.” Viserys reaches for his cup of wine. He knows that his reign is still fragile, and if his lords see his sister defying him, they might get ideas. “She has to marry someone, and with her delicate constitution, I cannot in good conscience…”

“Handing her to a stranger is a bad idea.” Daemon agrees, not out of some selfish motivation, but because he knows it’s the truth. You have always been far more delicate than most ladies, with your books and silly ideas about the role women should play. Had you not been so closely tied to Viserys, you may have even supported Rhaenys.

If Viserys was Aegon, you were Rhaenys. The sensitive little sister, loved because of her innocence and kindness. You never tried to push your strange ideas, after all. You just looked like a kicked puppy when contradicted.

Any other man would crush you at the first hint of defiance. Daemon, used to you as he was, knew rage was futile. If you wouldn’t settle in your duties easily, he had to take action and ensure you did through other means.

Gentler means. Daemon still remembered the fits you used to have when little. Viserys did too. Neither wanted a repetition.

“I have thought about it, and you should forgo the bedding.”

“I agree. It might make her sick.” Sick is the euphemism they use for your fits when there are prying ears. Daemon gives a pointed glance at the guards. Viserys drops the topic after that.

Almost against his will, when the embers of the fire they sit in front of die, Daemon goes to your rooms. He isn’t really thinking, when he walks down the hallways that lead to your chambers instead of his. Nor is he thinking when he dismisses your guards, and opens your door.

You are laying on your side, a pillow held to your thighs. Your hands are made into fists over them, as if you had fallen asleep in your rage still. Despite it, your face is peaceful, with only dried tear tracks to disturb your childish expression.

Your body is curled into itself, tightly. You must be cold, Daemon thinks, and takes of his cloak to lay it over your form.

In dreams, you smile. And Daemon understands that he is no Gaelithox. There was a reason Caraxes and Meraxes were only allowed to embrace once a day, after all.

HORROR AND RAGE are not emotions that lend itself to permanence. At least, not in you. Not when it comes to him.

Not when he plays such strange game, and gets you strange prizes. Daemon has not asked for his cloak back. You have taken to sleeping wrapped up underneath it.

How can a man capable of such cruelty be capable of such tenderness? Confusion means ignorance, and ignorance breeds fear. You have known Daemon all your life, but you are still unable to understand him.

The only certainty you have is that when he is near, your rationality flies out of the window. It’s all instinctual. To fight, to fuck, to fucking fight.

The sleep of reason produces monsters. Monsters that take hold of your heart and squeeze it, until it is no more than liquid and pulp. Did he hurt that woman? Will he hurt you? Love you?

Daemon had stolen your first kiss. Daemon had gotten kicked out of a brothel. There was a girl in the Street of Silk with a bite mark on her neck. He had visited you the night of your betrothal and tucked you in.

It might mean nothing. It might mean everything. Whichever it is, you have no time to come to terms with it. Viserys wishes for the two of you to be married by the end of this moon. It makes you feel even more blindsided and betrayed.

None of them had thought to ask you before deciding. They had just done so.

The idea of marrying your brother wasn’t what came as a great shock. As a child, you had often daydreamed of honoring your ancestors and becoming your brother’s wife. It was the way things should be. But you had always thought you would marry Viserys.

When Viserys married Aemma, you thought you would marry someone outside your household. Daemon and you were clearly ill-suited, even before everything that had happened between the two of you.

Betrothing the two of you would be madness. You had never understood each other in the manner Viserys and him did. You were an outsider to their relationship, the other head of the dragon. Rhaenys to her conquerors.

But inexplicably, Viserys had done so. Being betrothed to him without even being asked about it stung. No one had thought to warn you, or ask for your opinion. They had simply announced it to court and hoped you would comply.

The feeling of betrayal had only mellowed out after asking Viserys his reasoning. He hadn’t been trying to blindside you, he had explained. He had thought you would be happy. Both Daemon and you yearned for Valyrian partners. It made sense to betroth the two of you, especially because Daemon had asked to marry soon.

Your brothers were just dumb. But their foolishness was a dangerous one, since they rode the two biggest dragons of your generation and sat on the Iron Throne. Common fools could undo the damage they caused.

But in your case, there was no way out but through. Viserys had begged you to give Daemon a chance, and so, you found yourself preparing for meeting him.

Viserys had chosen the place the two of you would meet. The Godswood was neutral territory, and far away from the castle that if you started shouting insults at each other, only the Kingsguard shadowing you would hear.

It only made you dread the encounter further. You had taken a liking to the Godswood, and were contemplating using it as a hideaway for when things at court got to be too much. If this went wrong, it would forever taint the place for you.

You decide to arrive early, to allow yourself some time to compose yourself. Daemon beats you to it, already waiting near a tree when you get there.

“Hāedus,” Daemon says, when he sees you. In a show of rebellion, you have decided to wear your more modest gown, with a neckline that nearly reaches your ears. Aemma had encouraged you to wear something more revealing, but you wanted to strangle the cow. “You look lovely.”

“Lēkia.” You press a kiss to his cheek, unsure if you should greet him like you always do, or the betrothal has changed the protocol. Kissing his cheek as you always do seems safer, but you regret it when his eyes flutter closed at your touch.

He is acting odder than usual. In an increasingly out-of-character charm offensive, he takes off his cloak and places it on the grass.

“So you may sit.” His tone is too formal. It makes you even more wary, but you sit. Daemon does the same, by your side. So close, you end up frowning more.

He leans in. His lips brush the shell of your ear.

“Despite my struggles, I have come to admire you.” Daemon noses along the hair right above your ear. “Rationality has left me, and no matter how hard I try, you haunt me at every corner, every hallway, every street of this damned city.”

“What am I supposed to say?” You complain, with a frown. You push him a little, to be able to meet his eyes.“I am well aware of your attempts at forgetting. Valyrian whores, Daemon? Really?”

“It was all in vain.” He pulls you back in, embracing you. His hands are warm around your stomach, his lips chafed against the skin of your neck. “Let me take down your hair.”

Your eyebrows raise. Out of all things he can ask for, this is the weirdest one. His petition is so simple and innocent, you almost think he is not Daemon.

“Let me take down your hair.” Daemon begs. The ardent tone in his voices surprises you. He sounds like a man possessed. As if he cannot survive if you deny him. “Hāedus...”

This devotion, this unexpected fit of love, surprises you. So much, you find yourself nodding.

You feel his chest contract with his sudden inhale. His hands are careful as they unmake your braid. His touch so tender, even the most delicate hairdresser would envy it. But when your hair falls down your back, in mussed tendrils, he shows himself to be Daemon.

His nose presses to your temple, breathing you in. His fingers run through your hair, and he presses feverish kisses to your scalp, your jaw, your ear. Licks the sweat behind it, samples your earlobe with his teeth.

Teeth. It makes you tense. You think of the girl in Flea Bottom, of the bite over her throat.

“I can’t stop thinking of you. You appear before me in the darkest corners, and in the brightest meadows.” Daemon inhales, hands grasping your waist tightly. “When I squired, away from home, I couldn’t get you out of my head. I didn’t know it was love then, but I have loved you since before I knew what the word meant. I fucked the tightest cunts of Westeros, sampled the prettiest maidens, and yet it is your face that I imagine when tugging at my cock.”

Something inside you snaps. Among the righteous indignation, a strange satisfaction takes place. You shove him off you.

“Don’t be crass!”

Daemon doesn’t attempt to embrace you again, but remains unbearably close. Your eyes drift to his lips. You would love him even if he were the one who mauled the whore. You would love him even if he did it to you. Because of it, perhaps.

“I want you to be mine. Put me out of my misery.” Daemon begs, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Marry me, and end my suffering.”

“You frighten me.” You whisper, without quite meaning to.

“Do you fear I will hurt you?” Daemon asks you, voice very gentle.

You avert your eyes. It’s not that what you fear. It’s how out of control you are when it comes to him.

“I would never.” He vows, leaning in. His lips brush against yours, before Daemon presses his forehead to yours. He looks into your eyes, and smiles. “Do you remember the last time we kissed?”

“Of course I do, you idiot.” You scowl at the memory. “You stole…”

“No. You were crying because no knight…” He gets up, and begins to tug you to your feet. You remain sitting. “Oh, get up, you stubborn thing.”

“Daemon!” You complain, but get up. He stands a few feet away from you. Curious about the point he intends to make, you cross your arms over your chest and glare.

He offers you his hand, as if to dance. You take it, eyes full of distrust.

“I have been a cunt. But you have to stop running.” Daemon circles you, pulling on your hand slightly. Is he…? Your confusion must show on your face because he gives you a mocking glance. “To dance from afar is not to dance.”

“What do you mean?”

“You might as well be in Essos.” Daemon keeps circling you. “Let us dance properly, for once.”

“Here? Dance?” There is no music. And your brother has never been one for bursting into spontaneous song and dance. At least, you don’t think so.

“Together. You wanted knights to ask you to.” Daemon pulls you close, into a hug, and the puzzle pieces finally fit. The day he had kissed you, you had been crying because no one had asked you to dance. That Daemon remembers the reason when you had nearly forgotten it yourself astonishes you. “Now a Prince asks you. Do not make me ask twice, please.”

“Let us try. To dance as if glued by fire. Let me prove I can be good to you. That I listen to you. ”

And it’s stupid. It’s silly, there is not even music. But you let him pull you in, this time, and realize Daemon has always been capable of tenderness. At least, when it comes to you.