#i bow to you and kiss your forehead OP

[suguru-getos]

| Itachi Uchiha x Reader | Grief |

Summary: Itachi’s s/o has finally awoken her Sharingan. As much as it’s an opening for visual prowess, it is also a room for grief.

Warnings: Mentions of massacre, blood, it’s the Ninja world come on :3; Itachi being… insane, mentions of comfort, unhinged Uchiha brr! Also, I wrote this one on this blog let me live 🥹 not beta’d.

Despite being from the esteemed, established Uchiha clan, the unmatched Kekkei Genkai weilders, you were deemed ‘safe’ from the cursed anomalies of this world. Sometimes you felt like a disgrace, when you saw younglings flash their Sharingan and Kunais, train with all their might and wits to be a remarkable Shinobi. Then, there was you, physically strong, knew Taijutsu, but nothing much apart from that. What truly was the salt in your open gash wounds were you being the sister of Shisui Uchiha. The teleporter, the powerful, renounced Ninja.

That also meant that you knew Itachi and Sasuke ever since you were a child. Itachi was three years older than you. Sasuke being two years younger. Being the middleman, you always spent time with Sasuke rather than Itachi. The latter being too engraved in his training, Hell he was the chief of Anbu Black Ops when he was 12.

You remember 9 years old you, walking upto Itachi, noticing his Sharingan, gleaming with pride. “Congratulations Itachi! You are so powerful,” you grinned, flicking his forehead softly. “So proud of you, keep protecting us yeah?” You brought him Dangos, watching him take them and bowing down to you as a token of thanks. “Thank you, y/n san.”

Itachi— always the respectful and distant one. You wouldn’t be lying if you confessed that there had been days when you bitched about his stoic behavior with his younger brother. Sometimes Itachi was just too much to handle. Too much to take in.

You had no idea how things twisted and turned, how your visits collided with his, how you two started talking more. Enough to deem everyone else’s presence as unfit. Things seemed sudden and yet, took enough time to root deep within, creating a stellar foundation between you & the Uchiha. There was no resistance from Mikoto or Fugaku. Kagami had always been the liberal one. Who else was left really? Shisui? He couldn’t really mind you getting close to his best friend.

Itachi was shy yet brave enough to take the first move, ask you out several times to go get Dango together, sitting by the lake and enjoying it. Not his problem that you couldn’t take it as a date! He was trying his best!

Hell, how you and Itachi really, really got together? That story needs a meticulous elaboration in itself. As a summary, let’s just say the Uchiha are a jealous, territorial, intense-emotion honers.

Having faced several instances in your now adulthood with the Uchiha, where you had been crying on his chest about not having a Sharingan. About not worthy of carrying the Uchiha name, you were slowly getting comfortable with the whole thing.

“Sssh~ stop shedding tears, my love. You have no idea, how gleeful it makes me,” Itachi cupped your face, kissing your tears away. “That you aren’t tainted, traumatized by the filth of this Shinobi world,”

Itachi meant every word he said. There was a carnal desire to protect you from all things bad instilled in him. Instilled in the very marrow of his bones. Often he has caught himself pondering about how he would lose a part of his sanity if something were to happen to you. If something as meagre as a wound makes him so worried; he can’t bring himself to imagine the wrath he would unleash if something were to…

It was nothing more than an escorting mission, something that you could carry out easily given you are to traverse through the Hidden Sand village. Nothing stressful was going to happen. Nothing that you could expect.

No one would’ve expected an assassination of your team mates, full scale on spot death taken by. No one would’ve expected ‘you’ to come out unscathed because of the cursed boon that ringed into the pupil of your eyes, shining red, thirsty for blood.

It happened before you could register anything, the mission was successful having you saving the host, passing out the very next moment.

When you woke up, you felt different, you felt disgusted, you felt like burning yourself alive. The gory, grotesque scenary of your comrades being stabbed, broken into pieces, dead. Kept replaying over and over and over.

Being still within the fourwalls of The Hidden Sand’s medical room, you gasped out, screaming loud enough for the room to vibrate.

It was then, that you saw a familiar face, rushing towards you. Worry & regret written all over him, his arms carefully snugging you close, making you listen to his heartbeat; which was also haywired.

“Sssh~ there there, it’s all okay. Breathe for me. I’m here, everything is fine and I’m here. I’m here for you Angel, please calm down,” your sobs only heard his soft cooes, his hands rubbing your back soothingly.

Then your tear prickled eyes, stained with grief met his. One tomoe Sharingan glazing against Itachi’s black eyed features. Itachi suspected it, how else were you able to finish the mission? What he didn’t expect was him feeling your grief as well.

“I’m sorry-” He managed to utter with a lost, defeated sigh. Eyes glossed up, gritted teeth at his abstinent belief to think you were fine. Careless, foolish— belief.

“It’s okay,” you managed to mumble, holding his now cold, hands in your warmth. “It’s okay Itachi, how long could you have stopped it anyway,” you leaned against his chest, hugging him tightly, wanting to be broken apart by nothing but his embrace alone.

Itachi hugged you through the whole night, not saying anything else. Kissing the crown of your head, kissing your fingers, your inner wrist, cherishing every single square inch of your body.

The soothing comfort oozing out of your lover lulled you into your sleep, eyelids drooping down into nothingness. Or maybe, just maybe it was his Genjutsu. He swears by it not to use it on you, because it induces headaches. But this time… it maybe was different.

Itachi’s pupils were finally shot open, his Mangekyo blazing in revenge. Let’s just say, the Bandit clan that caused this mishap on your way to the Hidden Sand had a thousand members, women, children. All unspared, all despicable, all worthless & useless.

Itachi had only one trail of logic, they were all future criminals if not present, the women are ill born and gave birth to those future criminals, the men have their hands stained by blood already. War is the masterpiece of havoc seen by Itachi; to protect his own, to save another war happening, he is just eliminating another threat.

That was the only trail in his mind when he massacred each and every single one of them. Eradicating their blood line from the land, blood stained all over his face. He knew the real reason isn’t war, isn’t the logic that he built up. The real reason was your Sharingan.

Your newly awoken Sharingan needed a sacrifice, it only deemed fit after you lost your innocence, after you were drilled with grief.

Maybe you will wake up and hate Itachi, to be a Shinobi is to be hated after all. Maybe he will hide it from you. Maybe he will confess. All of that can be handled later.

[tom-whore-dleston]

Shoutout to my twin flame @yummymatcha for sharing Simu’s recent IG story with me bc I thought of Honey Baby AND Teach Me Tonight concepts revolving around the story post hehe

go easy on me bc I haven't written in for-fuckin-ever and I'm trying to get my mojo back

Honey Baby:

Simu was invited to yet another award show and he wanted to spice up his look with a bow tie to match your floral dress. It had been 15 minutes since you had finished getting ready and Simu had yet to walk out of the room. You walked back into the room to find Simu with the bow tie loosely hanging from his neck.

“I’m 33 and still can’t tie a bow tie,” he sighed, drooping his head in defeat.

You walked over to him and caressed his cheeks, pecking his forehead tenderly. Then, you began tying the bowtie with ease as your boyfriend watched in awe. You inspected the perfect bow that was displayed around his neck, smiling in satisfaction.

"My dad taught me when I was younger. You know, just in case I meet a guy that would need help." With that, Simu kissed your painted lips, careful not to smear the red all over his face.

By the time you both arrived at the red carpet, Simu held your hand, guiding you across the sea of photographers and interviewers. As you both stopped for a photo op, the photographer complimented his bowtie.

Simu chuckled, "You should be giving the props to my beautiful girl for the bowtie. If she hadn't helped me, we both would have been awfully late." You grinned at him and kissed his cheek.

Teach Me Tonight:

You invited Shangqi to your graduation party, which required semi-formal attire. Since you were also planning to introduce him to your family as your boyfriend, Shangqi wanted to make a good impression. His way of making a good impression was wearing a bowtie.

When he arrived, you received a text that he was outside. You walked out to greet and kiss him. After that, he handed you his bowtie.

"What's this?"

"Can you help me put this on?"

Before you could question Shangqi, he went on, "I wanted to make a good impression on your family and I figured I would dress nicer and wear a bowtie. Thing is, I don't know how to put one on."

"Shangqi, you don't need to wear a bowtie to impress my folks. They'll love you just as much as I love you." You kissed his cheek reassuringly and Shangqi melted under your touch.

"I know, but I really want to wear this. Can you please help me put it on?" You giggled, taking the bowtie from him and tying it around his neck in seconds. Your hands smoothed over the fabric and you smirked.

"You know what? The bowtie is a nice touch."

Shangqi smiled sweetly.

"Can't wait to take it off you when the night is over."

[bringbackthebastard]

Bring Back the Bastard Daily Prompts

Hello, folks! I'm posting these two weeks before we begin our fest, on September 1st, to give folks some inspiration on what to write each day as we celebrate Severus Snape's pettiest, most dastardly moments. I specifically picked out moments Snaters always harp on, that Snapedom personally enjoys--from any moment with Trevor to bitching at Lupin at Sirius, to the moments that Lily turns away and Dumbledore's face flashes with disgust--sure, he's a bastard, but he's our bastard, and that's what we like about him. You don't want him? Good. We'll keep him. Here are 30 scene prompts for 30 days--it's a long list, pulled chronologically from all seven books, but I found that it reminded me of everything I love about this character. The moments where he's called deranged, the moments where he slips into all-caps, the ugliest moments of the soul. Hope yall enjoy. Excited to kick off the fest starting September 1st, and absolutely excited to see what Snapedom will do. Let's Bring Back the Bastard! The prompts are below the readmore.

Day 1: The Scar Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacheer with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes--and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead. "Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head. "What is it?" asked Percy. "N-nothing." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look--a felling that he didn't like Harry at all. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to--everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Day 2: Bad Impressions Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name. "Ah, yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new--celebrity."

Day 3: Potions Class "Potter!" said Snape suddenly "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand shot into the air. "I don't know, sir," said Harry. Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut--fame clearly isn't everything."

Day 4: A Horrible Sight Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages. "Blasted thing," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?" Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but-- "POTTER!" Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Harry gulped. "I just wondered if I could have my book back." "GET OUT! OUT!"

Day 5: Maybe He's Ill "Hang on..." Harry muttered to Ron. "There's an empty chair at the staff table...Where's Snape?" Professor Severus Snape was Harry's least favorite teacher. Harry also happened to be Snape's least favorite student. Cruel, sarcastic, and disliked by everybody except the students from his own House (Slytherin), Snape taught Potions. "Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully. "Maybe he's left," said Harry, "because he missed out on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job again!" "Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates him--" "Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."

Day 6: Slytherin Takes the Field "But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "But I booked it!" "Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

Day 7: No Quidditch For You! "I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest." "Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong." Dumbledore was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed. "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said firmly. Snape looked furious.

Day 8: Expelliarmus! "Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry--you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!" "Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Harry's ear. Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at *him* like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them. "As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our fist spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course." "I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth. "One--two--three--" Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Day 9: Only Bite Him A Little Bit, Please "Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it..."

Day 10: Poisoning Trevor The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron. "Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned." The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat. There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small op, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm. The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown. "Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

Day 11: Insufferable Know-It-All Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air. "Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between--" "We told you," said Parvati suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on--" "Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..." "Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf--" "That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Fire more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Day 12: Your Saintly Father "I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter," he said, a terrible grin twisting his face. "Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you--your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't gotten cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts." Snape's uneven, yellowish teeth were bared.

Day 13: Don't Talk About What You Don't Understand "KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end o his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent. "Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you..." "The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle" --he jerked his head at Ron-- "I'll come quietly...." "Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black...pleased enough to give you a little Kiss, I daresay...."

Day 14: A Great Disappointment "He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have let somebody in the room with him. When this gets out--" "HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Snape roared, now very close at hand. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE *OR* DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS--HAS--SOMETHING--TO--DO--WITH--POTTER!" "Severus--be reasonable--Harry has been locked up--" BAM. The door of the hospital wing burst open. Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself. "OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" "Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself!" "See here, Snape, be reasonable," said Fudge. "This door's been locked, we just saw--" "THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth. "Calm down, man!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense!" "YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" shrieked Snape. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT--" "That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the war ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?" "Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. "I would have heard them!" "Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further." Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behavior, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward. "Fellow seems quite unbalanced," said Fudge, staring after him. "I'd watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore." "Oh, he's not unbalanced," said Dumbledore quietly. "He's just suffered a severe disappointment."

Day 15: Haven't You Heard? "Blimey, haven' yeh heard?" said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. "Er--Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'....Thought everyone'd know by now...Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose on the grounds las' night...He's packin' now, o' course."

Day 16: I See No Difference "And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice. Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain." "Potter attacked me, sir--" "We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted. "--and he hit Goyle--look--" Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi. "Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly. "Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!" He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth--she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back. Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Day 17: The Dark Mark Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He struck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled. "There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eater to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Day 18: If You Are Ready...If You Are Prepared... "Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready...if you are prepared..." "I am," said Snape. He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely. "Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.

Day 19: Obviously "Now...how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard. "Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable. His eyes on Snape, Harry added a few drops to his potion; it hissed menacingly and turned from turquoise to orange. "You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape. "Yes," said Snape quietly. "But you were unsuccessful?" Snape's lip curled. "Obviously." Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard. "And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?" "Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry. "Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge. "I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily. "Oh I shall," said Professor Umbridge with a sweet smile. "I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed. "Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge. "Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers'--er--backgrounds...." She turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson, and began questioning her about the lessons. Snape looked around at Harry and their eyes met for a second. Harry hastily dropped his gaze to his potion, which was now congealing foully and giving off a strong smell of burned rubber. "No marks again, then, Potter," said Snape maliciously, emptying Harry's cauldron with a wave of his wand. "You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?"

Day 20: Very Like His Father "How touching," Snape sneered. "But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?" Yes, I have," said Sirius proudly. "Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him," Snape said sleekly. Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table toward Snape, pulling out his wand as he went; Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from Sirius' wand-tip to his face. "Sirius!" said Harry loudly, but Sirius appeared not to hear him. "I've warned you, Snivellus," said Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better." "Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months very seriously?" "Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?" "Speaking of dogs," said Snape softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform...gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in future, didn't it?" Sirius raised his wand. "NO!" Harry yelled, vaulting over the table and trying to get in between them, "Sirius, don't--" "Are you calling me a coward?" roared Sirius, trying to push Harry out of the way, but Harry would not budge. "Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape.

Day 21: Wormtail's Whine "We...we are alone, aren't we?" Narcissa asked quietly. "Yes, of course. Well, Wormtail's here, but we're not counting vermin, are we?" He pointed his wand at the wall of books behind him and with a bang, a hidden door flew open, revealing a narrow staircase upon which a small man stood frozen. "As you have clearly realized, Wormtail, we have guests," said Snape lazily. The man crept, hunchbacked, down the last few steps and moved into the room. He had small, watery eyes, a pointed nose, and wore an unpleasant simper. His left hand was caressing his right, which looked as though it was encased in a bright silver glove. "Narcissa!" he said, in a squeaky voice. "And Bellatrix! How charming--" "Wormtail will get us drinks, if you'd like them," said Snape. "And then he will return to his bedroom." Wormtail winced as though Snape had thrown something at him. "I am not your servant!" he squeaked, avoiding Snape's eyes. "Really? I was under the impression that the Dark Lord placed you here to assist me." "To assist, yes--but not to make you drinks and--clean your house!" "I had no idea, Wormtail, that you were craving more dangerous assignments," said Snape silkily. "This can be easily arranged: I shall speak to the Dark Lord--" "I can speak to him if I want to!" "Of course you can," said Snape, sneering. "But in the meantime, bring us drinks. Some of the elf-made wine will do."

Day 22: A Loving Caress Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view. "The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible." Harry stared at Snape. It was surely one thing to respect the Dark Arts as a dangerous enemy, another to speak of them, as Snape was doing, with a loving caress in his voice? "Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures" --he indicated a few of them as he swept past-- "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" --he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony-- "feel the Dementor's Kiss" --a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall-- "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" --a bloody mass upon the ground.

Day 23: Better People "What does it matter?" said Malfoy. "Defense Against the Dark Arts--it's all just a joke, isn't it, an act? Like an of us need protecting against the Dark Arts--" "It is an act that is crucial to success, Draco!" said Snape. "Where do you think I would have been all these years, if I had not known how to act? Now listen to me! You are being incautious, wandering around at night, getting yourself caught, and if you are placing your reliance in assistants like Crabbe and Goyle--" "They're not the only ones, I've got other people on my side, better people!" "Then why not confide in me, and I can--" "I know what you're up to! You want to steal my glory!" There was another pause, then Snape said coldly, "You are speaking like a child. I quite understand that your father's capture and imprisonment has upset you, but--"

Day 24: Revulsion and Hatred Etched on His Face "Severus..." The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading. Snape said nothing, but walked forward and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. The three Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed. Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face. "Severus...please..." Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. "Avada Kedavra!"

Day 25: Don't Call Me Coward Mustering all his powers of concentration, Harry thought, Levi-- "No, Potter!" screamed Snape. There was a loud BANG and Harry was soaring backward, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand. He could hear Hagrid yelling and Fang howling as Snape closed in and looked down on him where he lay, wandless and defenseless as Dumbledore had been. Snape's pale face, illuminated by the flaming cabin, was suffused with hatred just as it had been before he had cursed Dumbledore. "You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them--I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, woudl you? I don't think so...no!" Harry had dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight. "Kill me then," panted Harry, who felt no fear at all, but only rage and contempt. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward--" "DON'T--" screamed Snape, and his face was suddenly deranged, inhuman, as though he was in as much pain as the yelping, howling dog stuck in the burning house behind them-- "CALL ME COWARD!"

Day 26: The Guest Voldemort raised Lucius Malfoy's wand, pointed it directly at the slowing revolving figure suspended over the table, and gave it a tiny flick. The figure came to life with a groan and began to struggle against invisible bonds. "Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked Voldemort. Snape raised his eyes to the upside-down face. All of the Death Eaters were looking up at the captive now, as thought they had been given permission to show curiosity. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, "Severus! Help me!" "Ah, yes," said Snape as the prisoner turned slowly away again.

Day 27: I Regret It "All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "wondering, wondering why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner...and I think I have the answer." Snape did not speak. "Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen." "My Lord--" "The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine." "My Lord!" Snape protested, raising his wand. "It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last." And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: But then Voldemort's intention became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue. "Kill." There was a terrible scream. Harry saw Snape's face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake's fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor. "I regret it," said Voldemort coldly.

Day 28: You Hurt Her! "Tuney!" said Lily, surprise and welcome in her voice, but Snape had jumped to his feet. "Who's spying now?" he shouted. "What d'you want?" Petunia was breathless, alarmed at being caught. Harry could see her struggling for something hurtful to say. "What is that you're wearing, anyway?" she said, pointing at Snape's chest. "Your mum's blouse?" There was a *crack*. A branch over Petunia's head had fallen. Lily screamed: The branch caught Petunia on the shoulder, and she staggered backward and burst into tears. "Tuney!" But Petunia was running away. Lily rounded on Snape. "Did you make it happen?" "No." He looked both defiant and scared. "You did!" She was backing away from him. "You *did*! You hurt her!" "No--no I didn't!" But the lie did not convince Lily: After one last burning look, she ran from the little thicket, off after her sister, and Snape looked miserable and confused....

Day 29: Save Your Breath "I'm sorry." "I'm not interested." "I'm sorry!" "Save your breath." It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. "I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here." "I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just--" "Slipped out?" There was no pity in Lily's voice. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends--you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?" He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. "I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine." "No--listen, I didn't mean--" "--to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I any different?" He struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look she turned and climbed back through the portrait hole....

Day 30: Anything "If she means so much to you," said Dumbledore, "surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for the mother, in exchange for the son?" "I have--I have asked him--" "You disgust me," said Dumbledore, and Harry had never heard so much contempt in his voice. Snape seemed to drink a little. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?" Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore. "Hide them all, then," he croaked. "Keep her--them--safe. Please." "And what will you give me in return, Severus?" "In--in return?" Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, "Anything."

[mxchimyg]

Guilt

Demon Slayer x Reader

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I've been having this prompt in my mind, I'm not sure if anyone has written about it, though. I hope you guys enjoy it <3333. Please check out my book similar to this on wattpad, http_softmyg. I'm releasing a new chapter every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: *SPOILERS* death, near-death, sad, might make you cry a waterfall, guilt, angst

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: none, just a Y/N excerpt. Maybe a little Giyu X Reader but platonic.

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ: (this is a writing off of my book, lmk if I should post it on here). The reader is an op (over-powered) hashira. She fills in the empty spot of the maestro pillar, meaning she can do almost all the breathing styles like her father. She defeats Muzan alone.

Lights had flooded your vision and there were people towering over your body on a flower field.

"(Y/N), it's okay, you can come to us now." Your father's voice called out to you, and you looked at him in the eyes, "your time has come to an end, and you saved so many lives." Uncle Kaito assured you, and you glanced at him quickly, "your business is done." Your mother came up front, and you began to tear up.

You nodded your head and closed your eyes, "I'll be back for you guys, I just want to stay over here a little more." You whispered, and your dad placed a kiss on your forehead.

"Whatever you wish for."

You woke up to a man snoring beside you, "what happened?" You sat up, and the man had woken up quickly to the moving, "(Y/N)?" Giyu sat up and launched himself forward to hug you. Your eyes had widened at his actions, but hugged back quickly.

The door to the room opened up and Tanjiro revealed himself. He realized you were now awake and dismissed himself to find Aoi.

"What's going on, Giyu?" You pulled away, and he had tears streaming down his cheeks. You've never seen Giyu in this state, and it looks like he hasn't been taking care of himself, "why so down in the dumps? We defeated Muzan, no more demons!" You happily exclaimed, and you felt all his emotions he was going through at the moment, "did-".

The door flew open, and two boys ran in crying to you, "(Y/N)!" Zenitsu and Inosuke cried onto your lap. Giyu was going to yell until Aoi screamed to catch everyone's attention.

"Would you all leave, I need to talk to her." Aoi walked into the room and Tanjiro, Nezuko, and the hashira's followed after her. You shook your head, "it's okay, they can stay." You assured her and Aoi felt hesitant, "are you feeling okay?" She questioned, and you nodded her head, "do you remember what happened before you went out?" Aoi placed her hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah, we defeated Muzan." You looked up at her, "no, you defeated him." Mitsuri spoke up, and you looked at her in confusion, "you guys were there too, we all did it together." Gyomei put his palms together, "no, we died from our injuries, you tried your best to save us after killing Muzan." He bowed his head.

"It's okay, you can let us go now." They all said in unison, disappearing into the air.

Giyu and the others were confused to who you were talking to, and Aoi realized what was happening. "You saw them didn't you," she interrupted the silence and everyone else began to get more confused.

You broke down in tears, Aoi hugged you, "Lady Shinobu saw her sister after she had passed away, it's okay to go through this." She rubbed your back and Aoi pulled away.

Giyu and the others realized what Aoi meant and felt pity for you. "If you need anything, you'll always have us by your side. You'll never be alone." Tanjiro promised, and everyone went in for a group hug.

You had no idea how to feel at the moment, it all came at you at once. You just couldn't take in the fact that almost all of your best friends had died.

It just didn't feel right. It was wrong.

As nights progressed and mornings arrived, the only thing you ever felt was guilt the more years had passed by.

Word Count: 579

[kyleoreillysknee]

The 3rd Option Part 5

Gif Credit: billy-crudup

Pairing: Rick Flag X Original Female Character (Chiyo)

AU: He Lives (maybe)

Word Count: 482

Rating: G - this is just fluff filler

Tagging: @vonschweetz @cormac-kenway​ @princesssterek​

Series: Part 1 & Part 2 & Part 3 & Part 4

Tucked in the back of the bus, Rick has refused to let go of Chiyo’s hand, dragging her into the seat beside him and onto the next step of their plan. Dubois' voice attempted to draw in her attention, but she remained blissfully lost cataloguing every detail she could as her fingertips traced over any parts of Rick she could touch. 

She felt him shiver as she danced over the inside of his forearm, following his veins. It was only when he leaned over and used his free hand to wipe at her cheeks that she realized she was using her power. Confused, she began examining him with more urgency. With a chuckle, he dragged a finger down her jaw before it dropped to point at the now healing crisscross of scratches on his arm.

“You didn’t have to do that,” He muttered, keeping his head bowed towards hers, consuming her vision.

“I didn’t realize I was,” She replied in an equally hushed tone, gaze dropping as there was only so much of his fond puppy eyes that she could handle. It took some willpower to stop her from reaching out to follow the pattern of his tattoo with her fingers, not wanting to overindulge in fondling him.

She felt a shift in him as he closed the pitiful distance between them and rested his forehead against the side of her head.

“Waller told me something I can’t get out of my head,” He began, rubbing his thumb against her knuckles as she tensed, “You earned your freedom 3 missions ago.”

It was an admission, not a question, and she knew what he really wanted to say. Taking a sharp breath, Chiyo gave a small nod.

“There’s nothing for me out there,” She wanted to curl up on the seat and fought that urge down, a part of her finally relieved to have that in the open, “I’d just end up back in Belle Reve anyway. Lose control, kill people.”

A low hum came from Rick’s throat as he mulled over her answer. He shifted, leaning back so that they could fully look at each other. He held her in place with an understanding yet curious gaze, “Ever thought about helping people instead?”

Before she could answer, he reached up and smoothed over the furrow in her brow, “Just an idea. Let me know and I can look into strings to pull.”

A light kiss to her forehead made a flush of heat bloom in her chest as his offer settled in and she knew he meant it. Chiyo lifted his hand to kiss his knuckles, using the motion to force that torrent of thoughts to the back of her mind. Having any semblance of a future was terrifying to face for the first time and it could wait until they weren’t on a black ops mission in a foreign country.

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

reid’s anatomy pt. 2

summary: after seeing spencer in the OR, you have no other choice but to wait and see if he makes it or not

word count: 1,827                                                                                               reading time: 7 mins

masterlist

Pt. 1

My spine had succumbed to the soreness that had spread throughout my lower body as me and Morgan sat almost lifelessly together on cold hospital floors.

If Spencer was present at the moment, he would ramble about the billion strains of bacteria and viruses incomprehensible by the naked eye, at which our skin would be exposed to. But he wasn’t here, he’s laying placid under OR lights that were just as bright as Time Square’s streets at night and a scalpel just as sharp as the sushi chef in the japanese cuisine he took me out for our 2 year anniversary.

Morgan still continued to stroke my head, our tear ducts running dry as the minutes passed us. I sat up from his shoulder, facing him for the first time since he came to check up on me.

“What happened out there?” I asked disdainfully. It was evident in my tone that I held some sort of animosity, possibly blame towards the team for not protecting Spencer. But deep down I knew that no matter how many cautionary provisions they’ve taken, you can never dodge the inevitable.

He flinched at the presence on my voice, not anticipating that I would be so prominent in speaking. He shifted to face the ceiling, sighing as he dragged his hand over the bridge of his nose.

“I-i can’t even to begin to explain Y/N. I-i’m so sorry” He repented, his eyes beginning to water again. I prolonged my examination of him, egging him to continue his narrative.

He now bowed his head, laying them on his hands that were supported by his knees. “We were with the unsub right” He painted out the scenario, I nodded while following along with his recollection of the events. “We were in the middle of a standoff. We had about 3 additional agents with us and the police force, but me and Reid were hanging back behind the unsub, in case he had tried to escape...” He paused in the midst of his sentence, taking in a breath as he began to choke on a few words.

“It was supposed to be me” He confessed, earning a look of perplexity from me. “The unsub had a kid in hostage, and the kid got in the middle of me and the unsub. So naturally I went to take the kid away, but I made the stupid mistake of dropping my gun. Obviously, the unsub heard and turned around to shoot me and the kid since we were both defenseless. But...Reid, he-. He shoved both me and the kid, taking the shot himself”.

The words that came from Morgan’s lips were incoherent by the time he finished. He looked over to me, his eyes exhibiting a great deal of grief before searching my own for a response or clemency.

In contrast to the circumstances that were placed before us, a forced chuckle lunged out from my throat, acquiring Morgan’s attention. A morbid smile planted on my lips as I thought about Spencer.

“He would’ve been such a good father. Don’t you think?” I asked using the same tone from earlier. Morgan agreed apprehensively, sorrow still evident by the way his body responded to mine.

“He deserves children. Doesn’t he, Derek?”

“Y/N- I don’t understa-”

“Then he should be able to have them” I snapped, slamming my fist against the wall behind me. Morgan reached a comforting hand out, but I swatted his hand away. I gave him a crazed look, running my hand through my hair. “H-he should have a family, he deserves a future...Morgan, he should be...alive. That’s how it’s supposed to be” I choked out, word vomit spilling from my mouth as my thoughts swirled around my head at a thousand miles an hour, any sense of rationality I had depleting. 

“Y/N- I-” 

Soft sobs racked my entire body and defeated whimpers had crawled up my esophagus. I rocked myself back and forth, burying my head into my arms until all I saw was the artificial darkness I placed myself in. It was almost a cocoon that composed of me and my thoughts, regardless if Morgan was next to me. 

My own heartbeat was ringing in my ears, drowning out any other noise around me, including Morgan. That wasn’t until I heard scurried footsteps, metal hitting metal, and the attending inside the OR yelling brutal commands at the staff. 

It suddenly came clear to me when Morgans hand gripped mine and all that could be heard from the OR was, “his BP is down, he’s going into V-fib, we’re losing him”. At that moment, my heart stopped and my vision dwindled, I was too tired to react. Pain resurfaced as my mind grew dizzy, next followed the sensation in my arms, legs, and back. Finally, my consciousness inevitably followed in its footsteps as it withered away to the sound of the doctors frantically shifting around to save Spencer’s life.

-

Light began to be apparent again, my vision gradually retaining it’s efficiency as I noticed I was placed on a hospital chair. I rubbed my eyes, sitting up in the seat that I was slumped down on, scratching my head while my eyes examined the environment. 

The first thing that had caught my attention was that I wasn’t in the hallway anymore, but in a post-op room. My eyes felt heavy from all the crying I’ve done previously and my forehead grew hot from the stress I’ve undergone. 

The sound of voices pricked my ears, and in curiosity, I stood up to investigate. Getting closer to the noise, I noticed my legs were tender and that I had a great difficulty at maneuvering around. 

How long was I out?

I finally got to my destination and was met with a privacy curtain that ran from the ceiling to the floor. I heard a multitude of voices that rang from the other side of the curtain. 

Uneasiness set in my bones, not wanting to get my hopes up. I slowly pushed the fabric aside, letting my presence be known, and let me tell you, it was the best decision I’ve made. 

To my fortune, there stood the attending that was operating on Spencer with the rest of the crew that surrounded a single bed. On that hospital bed laid the love of my live. 

Spencer was the first one I locked eyes with, he was in the middle of speaking with his colleagues when we did, which halted his speech. In recognition of Spencer’s pause, all eyes were then relocated to me. Although I didn’t reciprocate anyone else’s glances, except Spencer. 

“C-can we have a moment of privacy please?” Spencer requested, looking at his doctor for approval. 

The attending nodded in agreement, shifting his focus to me and gave me a hopeful smile. The same smile I would give to my patients after a successful surgery. Everyone filed out after the doctor one by one, leaving Morgan to be the last one out. 

As he exited the room, I stopped him by the shoulder and silently thanked him. He returned the gesture with a large smile, nudging me towards Spence. When the room was finally empty, I inched towards spencer with the brightest smile I can wear. His eyes shone nothing but love as he continued to gawk at me venturing towards him. 

When I finally got to his side, he greeted me with an amiable ‘hello’ like it was the first time we met. He reached out for my hand, placing it on his chest for comfort and giving it an affectionate kiss. 

I, then, proceeded to lovingly whack him upside the head in return, earning a playful wince from him. 

“I swear to god Spencer Reid, if you ever, and I mean EVER, put me through anything like that again, I will personally go into the OR and cut your LVAD wire and kill you myself, bec-” 

“Y/N, honey, I’m here no-” 

“DON’T. Don’t you dare tell me to calm down Spence because I will have to be restrained and placed in a mental hospital when I lose my license for kicking the IQ out of you” I finished, heaving as I gathered my composure. 

Spencer looked at me amused, gripping my hand in his and hauling me closer to the side of his bed. “Y/N Y/L/N, I’m sorry for putting you through everything you went through” He looked up at me with sincere eyes, melting all the disdain that swelled in my heart. 

I sighed, leaning down to lay my head on his chest, in which he gave me permission to hop into his bed. I pulled him in closer, terrified that he might vanish from my grasp into thin air. “Spencer, I love you so much” I sniffled, muffling my words into his chest. “You have no idea Spence, I-i felt so lost and hopeless. I-i couldn’t do anything to save you, they-they wouldn’t let me” I sobbed, my throat tightening up as the words spilled actively from my lips. 

Spencer quieted me down, stroking my hair as I spoke. “I don’t know where I’d be without you Spence”. I looked up at the man who held me, my heart beating in delight, in contrast to the emotion my face was probably expressing. 

He leaned in pressing a long lasting kiss on my lips, then he proceeded to reciprocate the same gesture on my forehead. “You’re my absolute everything Y/N’ He sighed. “Before I- before everything became a blur, all I could think of was you. All I could think of was that I took out one less person that can harm you. I love you so much Y/N”. 

A comforting silence followed after, creating an environment of serendipity. I toyed with the hospital gown that covered his body, thinking of all the events that had occured before, thanking the heavens for the outcome that was given to me and praying for the future. 

“I want a baby” I professed without warning, feeling Spencer tense up in surprise. 

“W-what did you say Y/N?” 

“I want a baby, I want to start a family with you” I continued, adjusting my position to get a good look at his reaction. “I want to have a baby now” I declared, determination dripping from my confession. 

Spencer chuckled, gesturing to the IV and the tubes that were wired into him. “I would be glad to Y/N, but I’m kind of a human experiment as this moment” He joked. 

We both chuckled in glee, holding each other tight as we basked in the pleasant scene. “But I would love to have little Y/N’s and Spencers running around, especially with the one I’d want nothing more than to spend my lifetime with” He pulled me into another kiss, peering deeply into my eyes before shutting his own to get some rest. 

“I love you so much, Y/N Y/L/N” He whispered through his breath.

“I love you more than you know, Spencer Reid” 

-

A/N:

That’s a wrap, you know I was going to end this short story with Spencer dying, but I thought about how evil that was. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it and don’t be afraid to put in any requests :)

taglist: @l0ve-0f-my-life  @spideyreid​ @evelyn-4034

[law-of-excluded-middle]

we have to stop meeting like this - part four (of four)

I wrote (part of) a fic for the Witcher Bog (@thewitcherbog) Discord server's July fic train event! I'm really grateful to the Bog for this opportunity to ease gently into writing fanfic, since this is really new for me :')

I was the caboose of the fic train, so if you've been following along, I hope you enjoy how it ends! And thanks for reading!

–

Ship: Lambden

Rating: T

Summary: Lambert, an angry apartment-dweller, deals with an uninvited guest. Repeatedly.

Written for @thewitcherbog train event with @all-hail-the-witcher, @king-finnigan and @jaskierswolf

Words: 5k (part four: 1.5k)

Part one, two, three, four (this one!) - AO3

Aiden, apparently, did a little bit of everything.

“Mostly gig stuff. Food delivery, grocery shopping, odd jobs... I build people’s flatpack furniture for them,” he rattled off. “Cat-sitting,” he added when Bastard, who had just come back inside through the open window, slinked over to him and bumped her head against his shoulder.

Aiden looked at the cat with such tender adoration in his eyes that it made Lambert feel almost uncomfortably warm, and he had to look away as Aiden continued. “I do some regular work for the community garden downtown, and I’m part of a pottery co-op.”

“Pottery? What, d’ya, like, sell shit on Etsy?” Lambert said between slurps of noodles.

A wry smile played on Aiden’s lips. “No,” he answered. “But I usually put in some hours at the winter craft market, peddling mugs and decorative plates, that sort of thing.” He paused. “As far as seasonal work goes, I imagine it’s a better deal than selling Christmas trees in the Home Depot parking lot,” he said, his smile growing into a teasing grin.

“Whoa,” Lambert said, starting. He felt his pulse race. “How do – how do you know where I work? Have you seriously been stalking me?” For the first time, he felt genuinely apprehensive in the presence of his mysterious guest.

But Aiden just laughed. “You’re joking, right?” Lambert scowled, which made Aiden laugh some more. “Your apron is hanging on the rack by the door. Your bright orange apron.”

Lambert whipped his head toward the door, then jerked it back around, and Aiden let out another peal of laughter. Lambert’s face was so hot he felt sweat beading on his forehead. He clenched his teeth, puffing up to defend himself, or at least to say something cutting and uncharitable, draw the focus away from his own cartoonish overreaction.

But one look at Aiden, leaning back on his hands where they were planted on the floor behind him, his head tossed back, shoulders shaking, and Lambert’s chagrin vanished like smoke before he had a chance to get properly worked up. “Oh, blame me for being suspicious of the guy who keeps breaking into my place,” he grumbled.

Still grinning, Aiden cocked his head. “Haven’t we already been over this? I don’t break in, I have a copy of your key.” His eyes sparkled deviously. “You’ll never guess where I had it made.” He glanced pointedly toward the coat rack once again before meeting Lambert’s gaze, his mouth quirked playfully.

“What, at my Home Depot?” Lambert demanded incredulously. Aiden answered with a toothy smile. “Unbelievable,” Lambert huffed. “How did you – when did you even get your hands on my key to copy it? – No, never mind, I don’t even care. What I’m more interested to know is how the hell this all started.”

Aiden’s eyes widened innocently. “How what all started?” But then he broke into a grin – that mischievous grin that Lambert was too quickly getting used to, and growing fond of – and sighed, apparently settling in for a story. “Let’s see, the first time I was here, that was a few weeks ago, right?”

“Weeks? Weeks?” This was news to Lambert. He had only become aware of Aiden’s drop-ins in the last ten days or so.

“Ah, right, right – you know, I think it was actually three weeks ago to the day! Imagine that,” Aiden continued, smiling beatifically, as if Lambert hadn’t even spoken. “Well... this story does not paint me in the most flattering light, actually…”

“Imagine that,” Lambert echoed dryly. “The story of the first time you broke into my apartment – and that was a break-in, I don’t even want to hear you try to deny it – and you’re telling me you don’t come out looking like the hero?”

“I’m not sure I see what you’re getting at,” Aiden said primly, not looking at Lambert. “Well, the short of it is, I’d gotten into a bit of a disagreement with some gentlemen that evening, and that turned into more of a scrap, which quickly gave way to a brawl. And I decided that the most civilized thing for me to do was to bow out gracefully.”

“So, you ran away,” Lambert said, for clarification.

“Like a bat out of hell,” Aiden confirmed with a smirk that was somehow both arrogant and self-deprecating. Lambert felt warm again. “Look, it wasn’t my finest hour. These guys were big, and I’m pretty agile, but I know when I’m outmatched.”

Aiden paused to hum thoughtfully. “Now, you on the other hand…” he continued. “If it had been you in my place, I imagine you could have taken them.” He smiled a tiny, devious little smile and curled forward, reaching out to wrap a hand around Lambert’s biceps. It flexed in his grip and his smile grew wide. “Yes, I’m quite sure,” he purred.

Lambert felt very warm. “Yeah, I’m. Uh. I, I guess I’m pretty good in a scrap. I, you know, I.” He flexed his arm again. “Move a lotta wood.”

“I bet you do,” Aiden murmured, leaning even further into Lambert’s space and looking up at him through his dense, dark eyelashes.

“Lumber,” Lambert hastened to clarify. “At. Fucking – At Home Depot. You know. Dimensional lumber, and pressure-treated pine, and like six kinds of plywood. OSB. MDF. You name it.” He grimaced.

Aiden was openly delighted at how flustered Lambert was getting, but he seemed to take pity on him. With a parting squeeze, he let go of Lambert’s arm and resumed eating his noodles, the picture of innocence.

“Let’s see – right, so I made my strategic exit and found myself hiding up your fire escape. Saw this little one get in through a half-open window” – he scratched behind the cat’s ears and she rubbed her face against his hand shamelessly – “and I figured I could use a place to lie low for an hour or two, so.” Aiden shrugged. He set his takeout container aside on the coffee table and scooped Bastard into his lap.

“Okay, that doesn’t explain why you kept coming back,” Lambert pointed out.

And there was that condescending smirk again. “Well, this part of the story isn’t so flattering for you,” he said.

Lambert scowled, which probably wasn’t very flattering for him, either.

Aiden sighed, still smiling. “I got such a strong impression of loneliness, just from being in your apartment for a few hours. And I thought you could use a friend. Who doesn’t want to make a new friend?” He looked so sweet and earnest for a moment that Lambert lost his train of thought.

But it came back. “Are you telling me you made a copy of my key so you could keep hanging around my apartment, because you pitied me?” he asked, baffled.

Aiden pouted just a little. “I wouldn’t say pitied, no. But come on, the tower of identical takeout containers” – he gestured pointedly to the one out of which Lambert was still eating – “seemed a bit sad. You needed some novelty in your life!”

Lambert stared at him. Objectively, this was batshit behavior.

And yet, he couldn’t find himself feeling anything but want. It had been so long since Lambert could remember wanting, or wanting anything new, anyway. He didn’t want to fight it.

“You’re definitely novel, I’ll give you that,” Lambert said at last. “So, what now? Because I gotta be honest with you,” he paused, “we really have to stop meeting like this.”

Aiden broke into a toothy grin. “Now? I think I ought to head home,” he said, rolling his shoulders back and stretching languidly. “And tomorrow, I think you should take me out for breakfast.”

“I have work in the morning,” Lambert protested.

“No you don’t,” Aiden replied without missing a beat.

“Damn, it really is a little creepy how well you know my schedule.”

Aiden laughed wickedly as he stood up, and Lambert followed. “I don’t have a car, will you drive? I can meet you here at ten, how’s that?”

“You don’t have a –? Never mind. Yeah, ten’s fine.” He had to wonder how the guy managed to work all these delivery gigs without a car, but they didn’t need to get into it right now; he had a feeling that it would take him some time to figure out how the hell Aiden operated, and he thought, with a fluttery sort of hope, that he would have that time.

Lambert walked Aiden to the door, and Aiden looked up at him coyly.

“I’ll have you know, Lambert, that I’m not one to kiss on the first date,” he said with affected sternness.

Lambert choked a little, startled, his face heating up rapidly. “Uh-huh, well, that’s fine, I won’t be uhh, expecting anything just for buying you breakfast,” he stammered.

Aiden just narrowed his eyes and smirked. “That’s what tonight was for: now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I might be expecting something after you buy me breakfast.” He raised his eyebrows slyly and then slipped out the door, leaving Lambert feeling entirely too warm.

If this all worked out, he thought, they were going to have to come up with a better story about how they met.

[the-singlest-pringle]

A Sweet Song

Prompt 5 of Surprise from this list: "You got this for me?"

It was not common knowledge that Billy played the violin.

Read it here on AO3.

It was not common knowledge that Billy played the violin. “Not common knowledge” meaning there were only four people that knew: Max, Neil, Old Lady Garcia, and his music teacher from California, Ms. Petrov. Neil was never meant to find out, but after word of Billy’s first (and last) performance got out, Neil smashed his violin, along with his left hand. It wasn’t long after that when Neil caught Billy with a boy. Neil lost his shit, nearly beating Billy to death, then he packed up the whole family in less than a week and moved them to the boondocks.

It was now April, meaning it was nearly his birthday and also that it would be six months since he last touched a violin. The first few months without his violin were the hardest. Billy swore that he was going through withdrawal. His hands yearned for the violin, fingers itching to play. He longed to wrap his fingers around the neck, to slide his bow across the strings, and carefully finger out some Paganini. Billy would drive to the quarry and listen to his stash of classical music. One time he actually broke down because of it. His heart ached for his violin as he cried out in mourning.

Now that it’s been six months, he’s had time to adjust. He still gets that itch when his emotions are high, but Harrington helps quell his hunger. In fact, dating Harrington had been the best thing to happen to Billy in a long time. He was kind, caring, and provided the support that Billy desperately needed yet woefully lacked. He took care of Billy when he was hospitalized because of Neil (again) and was there for him when Neil lost custody and Hopper took him in. Billy was convinced that he loved Harrington, which is why he decided to add Harrington to the list of people that knew his secret.

It was a normal night, the Party gathering at the Wheeler’s for another Dungeons and Dragons campaign, when Billy said (out of nowhere), “You know, I used to play the violin.”

He and Steve had gone upstairs to grab more snacks, so they were alone in the kitchen. Steve was already attempting to balance two boxes of cookies and three bags of chips in his arms when he heard Billy. He started to clumsily juggle and drop the snacks while stuttering out a surprised “What? Are you serious?”

Billy chuckled at Steve’s shock. “Yeah, I am. I even performed at Royce Hall back in Cali once.”

“Bee, that’s amazing!” Steve exclaims as he crouches down to collect the snacks. “How come I’m just finding out about this now?”

“Well, only five people know about it, including you. And I felt that since we’ve been together long enough, you deserve to know everything about me, which means knowing that I play the violin,” Billy explains before quickly correcting himself with a, “Well, used to play.”

“You don’t anymore?” Steve asked.

“Nah. My old man made me stop when he found out.” Billy flexes the fingers of his left hand as he says this. “I played for nearly ten years in secret. I would tell my dad I had clubs after school, but instead, I would go to the music room and play.” He clenches his hand as he continues. “When Neil found out, he took a hammer to my violin, then to my hand to make sure I would stop.”

Steve sighed at the mention of Neil, making his way across the kitchen to take Billy’s hands in his. “Your dad is a dick and I hate everything he put you through.” He pushes a lock of hair out of Billy’s face and tilts up his chin so that they’re making eye contact. “I am so glad that you’re out of that situation and that you don’t ever have to deal with Neil again. I love you so much, okay?” Steve plants a kiss on Billy’s forehead for emphasis before Billy pulls Steve closer and practically smashes their lips together.

Billy smiles into the kiss, whispering out, “I love you, too,” before they’re interrupted by a familiar shrill voice that causes them to pull apart.

“Ugh! You guys are so gross !” Max says from the kitchen entryway. She was the only member of The Party that knew about Steve and Billy. Max made it a thing to point out how gross their PDA was, which she named DAFM (Displays of Affection in Front of Max).

“Yeah, shitbird? Well, you stink,” Billy quips.

“I do not, booger face!” Max retaliates.

“Carrot top!”

“Stupidhead!”

“Half-pint!”

“Shortstop!”

Billy gasps dramatically and feigns offense. “I am not short!”

Max rolls her eyes at that. “Tell that to every guy we know!”

“I’m literally taller than Jonathan,” Billy defends.

“That doesn’t count!”

Steve just sits back and laughs at the two siblings quarreling before intervening when the volume reaches near screaming level. “Alright, alright. Break it up, you two. You’re both shorter than me and that’s all that matters. Now can we head back downstairs?”

“Ugh. Fine, ” Billy and Max say in unison. Max makes her way downstairs as Billy and Steve gather the snacks.

Billy steals a kiss from Steve before they head down the stairs, Billy announcing his presence with a “‘Sup, fuckers? What’d we miss?”, earning him a smack to the arm from Steve. They settle into the couch, a comfortable distance apart, as the rest of The Party continues playing DND.

-

The next time Billy playing the violin is mentioned is during Billy’s birthday party. It’s a pretty lively event considering Billy had next to no one just months ago. But now he has a family and friends, all of which have gathered to celebrate him. Just thinking about it makes him smile.

Billy is about halfway through opening gifts when he comes across a rather large box. It’s covered in sheet music wrapping paper with a bow on top. Curiously, he shakes the box, causing Harrington to say “Careful! It’s fragile,” revealing that it’s from him.

Knowing the size of the box, the wrapping paper, and the person who gave the gift, it doesn’t take long for Billy to piece together what it is.

“No… no way,” Billy says while frantically tearing the wrapping paper off the box. That earns him a chorus of people asking what it is and a smile from Harrington. “I swear to god, Harrington, if this is a joke…”

Billy slides the case out of the box, unzipping it then opening it slowly. He stares for a few seconds, not fully comprehending what he’s seeing. Staring back at him is a brand new violin. The rest of The Party is eager to see the contents of the case, but all Billy can focus on is the instrument in front of him.

“You got this for me?” Billy asks, still not believing what he’s seeing. Steve nods in assent.

Before Steve can register what’s happening, he’s pulled into a bone-crushing hug from Billy to everyone’s surprise. The Party’s confusion only multiplies when they see that a violin is what caused Billy to hug Harrington. When Billy pulls away, he looks like he’s so happy that he might cry. Steve is sure that he almost does.

“Thank you so much, Steve. I- I don’t even know what to say.” Billy is stumbling over his words, so overcome with emotions. Back in October, he was so sure that he would never touch a violin again, but now that he’s free from Neil, he can do whatever he wants. And what he wants right now more than anything is to play.

Billy slowly takes the violin out of the case. He puts the shoulder rest on the instrument and rosins the bow a bit. Billy looks up nervously at Steve, silently asking for assurance. Steve smiles at him and gestures to the center of the rug as if to say “go ahead”. Billy can feel all eyes on him when he stands up. He doesn’t even know if his fingers healed properly, but he doesn’t really care. He just wants to play. So he gets up into position, takes a breath, closes his eyes, and starts playing.

The whole Party is in awe as they watch. It’s clear that Billy puts every emotion into how he plays. His fingers dance gracefully across the neck of the violin while his right arm moves the bow fluidly across the strings. His tone is practically perfect. An untrained ear wouldn’t be able to tell that he hadn’t played in over six months.

When Billy finishes, the whole room is silent before Joyce starts clapping. Then everyone joins in, Max leading a standing ovation. Billy blushes, embarrassed by the attention, but smiles at the praise, happy people enjoy him playing just as much as he does. When everyone finishes clapping, Billy is bombarded with questions and praises.

“Oh my god, that was amazing!”

“Since when did you start playing the violin?”

“What song was that?”

“How come you never told anyone?”

“I can’t believe that Billy Hargrove just played violin in my living room!”

Billy laughs out several “thank you”s as he puts the violin away in its case. “I started playing when I was seven,” Billy starts to explain. “The piece I just played is called ‘Violin Concerto No. 3 in B minor, Op. 61’ by Camille Saint-Saëns, and I never told anyone because of Neil.” The Party didn’t know the details of his situation with Neil, but gossip spreads quickly in a small town, so they knew Neil lost custody for some reason.

“Sweetheart, you played beautifully,” Joyce praised.

“You really did,” Lucas agrees, which surprises Billy.

“Could you play something else?” Dustin asks, exciting a chorus of agreements.

Billy doesn’t know if anyone besides Ms. Petrov has asked him to play. He’s still getting over the shock of it all. But he agrees. So he takes out his violin again. His violin. And he plays for The Party. He plays all night long, playing Bach to Beethoven, and even some rock songs. He plays until his out-of-practice fingers cramp. He plays because he’s happy. Billy feels fulfilled as ever with his friends and family around him, with Steve by his side, and with a violin in his hand.

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Move In?

Oh, let's just summarize this one with a quote:

Sir Pentious:

"I know we said we would slow things down, and I agree we should, but you spend almost every night here, and you have no other place to call home....So, I was thinking, why not call _here_ home? Here, with me." He glanced quickly at Alastor from the corner of his eye before staring even more adamantly off to the side.

Alastor:

Alastor’s eyes widened in shock. His heart stopped. And a little voice in the back of his head whispered, *run.*

Alastor

Guess who repaired an organ and was incredibly smug about it.

A professional could probably have done it faster—and with less duct tape—and Alastor was lucky the damage hadn't been worse. He'd needed Telly to show him the basics—and go to him for repairs whenever he found a pipe too damaged—and he'd spent half his free time for the past few weeks either sneaking into other organs to see how they were put together or burying his nose in organ repair manuals—but he'd gotten it done.

A few last details needed fixing, sure—but more importantly, they'd reached the moment Alastor had been anticipating for weeks: it was ready for Telly to take it for a test run.

He *hadn't* anticipated what watching Telly play would do to his heart.

Sir Pentious

And oh did Telly play. His fingers flew over the manuals, pulling stops, pressing keys, his tail taking care of the the pedals-- luckily, there were only three, he'd gotten it down to that few.

He lost himself to the music, the sheer joy of being able to play again overcame him, and he didn't stop, not for a good while. But when the final note rang and held, his smile was wide enough to split his face. He stood, spinning to give a deep bow to his audience of one-- though he _could_ hear the Eggs clamoring outside the locked bridge doors in joy.

"What a wonderful job you did, my hart! It's sounding flawless, perfect! Oh, I am so very, very happy!!" He slithered over and took Alastor's hands, kissing the back of each.

Alastor

So often the past few months, he’d found himself thinking, *god, the last time I did this was fifty-four years ago.* But it had never pierced quite as deeply as this time, like an arrow lodged in his lungs. Standing just behind Sir Pentious as he played, bent over his shoulder, watching his fingers glide gracefully over the keyboard, listening to the pipe organ thunder around them... He’d been here before. It had been beautiful then. It was beautiful now. It made him ache.

When Telly bowed, Alastor’s invisible audience applauded him, a thousand hands clapping, and he smiled so wide it hurt. “What a show! Absolutely stupendous! Goodness me, I think I felt half of Hell trembling under that barrage. You’d drown out all the trumpets of Heaven, my darling—and sound twice as divine doing it!”

Sir Pentious

If his smile could widen any further, it would at the praise Alastor lavished on him. He leaned down to kiss him, briefly, before pulling back and bringing him closer to the organ.

"Now I can show you a favorite feature of mine!" He said, smile turning oh so devious. "WATCH AND BEHOLD, BECAUSE, MY HART, THIS ORGAN....CAN PLAY ITSELF!"

With a cackle, he flipped a switch on the side and the keys began to press on their own, playing a familiar melody-- the Phantom of the Opera.

"I added that in the early 1990s when the musical was getting very big!" He set his hands on his hips and grinned-- look at him, so smug.

Alastor

Alastor laughed in amazement. “Phantom doesn’t even sound this good in the theater!” He leaned against Telly. “Truth to tell, I figured out during repairs that this thing knew how to play itself—had to check out what some of the thingamabobs and thingamajigs were doing—but it really is something to see in action!” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the music, and it still felt like an intimate whisper.

Sir Pentious

"Still impressive, yes!!" He laughed, turning to place his hand on Alastor's waist, his other taking Alastor's hand, in a classic dancing stance.

"Shall we, darling?" He prompted, smirking.

Alastor

His heart skipped a beat painfully. Listening to Sir Pentious play the organ on his ship, and then sweeping him into a dance? *God, the last time I did this was...*

“Of course!” He squeezed Telly’s hand and slid in close, shadows sliding in with him; the lighting went dark and strange as Alastor shifted the world, just a little bit, to let Telly dance.

And as they started dancing, he sang along to the organ, at the top of his lungs, in no way Broadway-worthy: “*In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came! That voice which calls to me and speaks my name—!*”

Sir Pentious

Telly laughed as they started to dance, twirling around the bridge, his tail sliding effortlessly across the ground. Once the song got to the Phantom's part, Telly began to sing again-- not the best, but certainly far from the worse, he could at least hit most of the notes.

"_Sing once again with me! Our strange duet! My power over you, grows stronger yet!_"

Alastor

Wasn’t that the truth? *Sing once again with me...*

He made it into the duet as far as “*Your spirit and my voice, in one—*” before he abruptly stopped singing, half laughing as he blurted out, “Oh no! I took the part with the high notes! I have to sing the ending, what have I done!”

Sir Pentious

"_My spirit and your voice, in one--_" Telly stopped short too, laughing with Alastor. "Yes, you've done it to yourself! How tragic!"

He snickered, before trying to pick up again. "_And in this labyrinth, where night is blind!_"

Alastor

“*The Phaaantom of the Op*—pfff, please Phantom, have mercy! I’m no Angel of Music, they wouldn’t let me in the pearly gates!”

Sir Pentious

Telly laughed, keeping their dance going at least. "Oh, come now, maybe not an Angel of Music, but certainly a Demon of Music! So sing for me, my Demon of Music! Sing!!"

Alastor

“*He’s theee-he-here—*” he was almost laughing too hard to sing, “*—the Phaaantom of the O-operaaa...*” DEEP breath!

Sir Pentious

"Sing for me!" Telly commanded spinning out to be able to twirl Alastor-- not making the singing any easier, not at ALL.

Alastor

He stumbled in the twirl, steadied himself, and then did his best to hit Christine’s high note.

It came out as an unholy screech of pure distorted static. He only lasted a couple of notes before his “voice” broke and he collapsed against Sir Pentious’s shoulder in helpless cackles that sounded as much like feedback as like laughter. He made a second attempt so brief it sounded more like a lone beep before laughing even harder.

Sir Pentious

And that broke Telly as well. He tried his best to hold Alastor up, but his own laughing soon brought them both down. He wheezed for breath, holding Alastor close.

Alastor

He clung to Sir Pentious, fingers digging into his jacket, laughing so hard his stomach hurt and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

And suddenly he felt something in his chest crack, and his throat abruptly closed. He kept clinging, his shoulders trembling, face hidden.

Sir Pentious

Telly was wheezing so hard he didn't even notice the change. He slowly began to wind down, one of his hands idly rubbing Alastor's back.

"That was hilarious, dear, I've never heard a screech quite like that!" Another few chuckles.

Alastor

“Well—sound like that—blast most microphones, you know.” His voice was tense and tight. Sound normal, please sound normal.

Sir Pentious

That was not a normal post-laughing-fit voice. And that got Telly concerned.

"Alastor? Are you all right?" He asked, his hand now more purposefully rubbing Alastor's back, trying to sooth him. "Is something wrong?"

Alastor

“Fine! Fine, I’m fine.” He nodded against Telly’s shoulder. “Just, must have—hard on my throat. That’s all.”

Sir Pentious

"Oh, darling." He wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. "Do you want me to make you some tea to soothe it? Or I could send the Eggs to get some lozenges?"

Alastor

“No no, it’s okay. I’ll be okay in a minute.”

Sir Pentious

"Oh, alright." He frowned as he rubbed Alastor's back, pressing his cheek against the side of his head.

After about a minute, he asked, "Are you sure?"

Alastor

He held on a little tighter. It took several seconds for him to reply. “I missed doing this with you.”

He knew he was talking to the wrong Sir Pentious. But he had to say it anyway.

Sir Pentious

Oh. _Oh._ Telly understood then, what was happening. His tail pulled up, coiling around Alastor's legs, and his arms just held him tighter, pressing his cheek harder to the side of his head. He didn't know what to say to that, but he could at least hold Alastor through it.

Alastor

“Sorry.” His voice was almost a whisper. Just give him a moment, he’d be fine.

Sir Pentious

"It's fine. Take your time, I'm here." He whispered back, nuzzling against him.

Alastor

It was another minute or two; but then, finally, he took a deep breath and said in something close to his normal voice, “Oh, how embarrassing! Excuse me.” He pulled back, faking a normal smile. “So sorry! It’s just... Something in the atmosphere, I suppose.”

Sir Pentious

Telly cupped his face, stroking his thumb along his cheek. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"_Alastor._ It's all right, truly, it is. You don't need to apologize." And another kiss, this time to the other cheek.

Alastor

That made it frustratingly hard to keep faking a normal smile! He could feel it wavering at the corners. He just nodded in agreement, sure, if Telly says so.

Sir Pentious

Telly started stroking his cheek with his thumb. Hm, what to do to cheer up your Radio Demon when he was feeling down? Oh, mayhaps a song. Telly pressed their foreheads together and smiled, as he began to sing, softly.

“_Grey skies are gonna clear up, put on a happy face._”

Alastor

A lump formed in his throat. Oh no. His heart was full of love and his eyes were full of tears. Time to hide his face again, there he goes.

Sir Pentious

It took some careful maneuvering, but Telly got himself _and_ Alastor back up and standing, all so he could sway gently with him. He continued to sing, his tailtip tapping against Alastor's leg.

"_Brush off the clouds and cheer up, put on a happy face. Take off the gloomy mask of tragedy, it’s not your style, you’ll look so good that you’ll be glad, you decided to smile!_”

Alastor

That’s it, Telly’s figured out all his weaknesses. Alastor hummed and sway along. More static than usual still laced his humming.

Sir Pentious

"_Pick out a pleasant outlook, stick out that noble chin!_” He pulled back, revealing Alastor's face, and tapped a finger under his chin. “_Wipe off that ‘full of doubt’ look, slap on a happy grin! And spread sunshine all over the place, just put on a happy face!_”

He took Alastor's hands, doing a little side to side shimmy, before attempting to twirl him.

Alastor

He almost tried to hide again—but then the chin tap, and he choked out a laugh instead. He was sure his eyes were still a little watery as Telly twirled him, but when he came back in he pressed his forehead to Telly’s, once more properly grinning.

“This is what it was like when—he and I first kissed. He’d just played his organ for me for the first time, and then somehow we ended up dancing and making fools of ourselves and laughing, and...” He sighed. He doubted Telly wanted to hear about Alastor’s ex—his oh-so-successful ex who’d conquered half the States—but Alastor owed Telly at least that much information. Especially if he was going to be pathetic and burst into tears over it.

Sir Pentious

Telly held him close, forehead pressed against his. “Yes, I assumed something along those lines. I….have to admit that it feels _strange_, slithering in the same tracks without knowing it. I….hrm. I’m not sure how I feel about it, to be frank. I don’t…..want to be just a replacement, you know.”

His own happy face was falling. “I’m sorry, you’re trying to tell me important things and here I am making it about me, I shouldn’t–- please, continue.”

Alastor

“It’s fine. You’ve got a right to have those worries. I don’t want you to be just a replacement, either. And I never want you to *feel* like a replacement. Never.” He held Telly’s cheeks. “It’d be a bald-faced lie if I said I *didn’t* end up here because—because I want the things in you that I know are the same as the things I wanted in him. Is that *replacement,* or is it knowing that I’ve got an extremely specific type? I’m still working out the nuances myself. I—“ huff, “—I wasn’t exactly planning on this.”

Sir Pentious

Whatever else, it did feel good and reassuring to hear that, out loud. His arms wrapped around Alastor and squeezed him briefly.

“I feel like it’s more the second. It’s not like you sought me out _specifically_ to date me to replace him. No one plans these sort of things, certainly. I mean, _I_ never thought I’d be with a Radio Demon in this way, or even _friends_, honestly. Not after what happened between me and Leclerq.”

Alastor

“And I did tell you—if a more successful snake slithered up and asked me to join his enterprise, I’d want to stay here. That’s still true.” He smiled crookedly. “I’ve always wondered about that bit, though—how am *I* the only Radio Demon with any taste at all? It seems impossible.”

Sir Pentious

"You did, and you cannot know how much that relieved me to hear." He smiled and cupped his cheek again, leaning in to give him a kiss. "As for the other bit, well, I don’t know. Perhaps you’re the outlier!”

Alastor

Kiss! “Aren’t I the lucky one, then!”

Sir Pentious

"You are! Just to think, so many snakes and radios are missing out on this." He laughed and returned the kiss. Now that cheering up was done, he coiled and sat, pulling Alastor into his 'lap'.

"You know, I've been thinking about something for a bit now...."

Alastor

“How tragic for them,” Alastor said, sighing lightly; but he couldn’t help but think about just how much his alternates would disagree. Well, lucky them, being unattached. At least he could make the most of his attachment.

He settled onto Telly’s coils, giving him his full attention. “What’s that?”

Sir Pentious

"I've been thinking about, well-- you've got your toiletries here, you've got a robe, you've been stealing my shirts to use as underwear, don't think I haven't noticed, and--" He paused and looked away, giving a little shrug.

"I know we said we would slow things down, and I agree we should, but you spend almost every night here, and you have no other place to call home....So, I was thinking, why not call _here_ home? Here, with me." He glanced quickly at Alastor from the corner of his eye before staring even more adamantly off to the side.

Alastor

Alastor’s eyes widened in shock. His heart stopped. And a little voice in the back of his head whispered, *run.*

He’d been thinking about this for a while, too. Hell, he’d been thinking about a lot of things—what he wanted their wedding to be like (obnoxiously ostentatious and broadcast on every station in Hell), what he’d do if Telly offered to hire him as a full-time henchman (give the hotel his two weeks’ notice and duel Vaggie for full custody of the blog). But his thoughts had been *fantasies.* Had he expected them to happen? This soon?

This was so fast. They’d known each other less than four months, been together less than two. And God, yes, Alastor felt like he’d do anything for Telly, but how much of that was real? (How much was Telly really a replacement after all?)

He’d known Telly for days before feeling like this. He’d known his own Sir Pentious for fifteen years.

It felt wrong. It was so fast.

*Run.*

No, not yet. He swallowed hard. “I... really?”

Sir Pentious

Well, he didn't immediately leap off of Telly's coils and disappear into a portal, so that was at least a good-ish sign. His tongue flicked and stayed out a moment too long before retracting, a sure sign of a stressed snake.

"Yes, really. I just....I want you here, with me, but I also just want you to have a place to call yours. Somewhere for you to go to at the end of the day, that you're happy to go to." Another long flick.

"I understand if you need time to think about it-- I've had time to think, too, and you deserve that-- and even if you don't want to accept, you're always welcome here. And if you want to accept sometime in the future, the invitation is there...." He was still not looking at him, and his tongue now stayed out. Stressed snake is stressed.

Alastor

Telly looked so nervous. Alastor had to look away.

It made perfectly good sense. He couldn’t argue with that. He didn’t have any official place—beds in places no one would find or places he was charitably permitted to shack up from time to time, his possessions stored in hidden rooms or concealed in a separate plane of existence entirely. He slept here, showered here, cooked here, ate here, made love here. He was practically living here already.

He mentally recoiled at the realization.

*Run.*

“That’s...” He laughed wheezily. “I... haven’t lived with anyone since I died. Few years with Rosie, I suppose, but... I was just a guest, not...” He was so tired of being a guest. He was so tired of being the visitor, the one who had to say *hello* and stand and wait in the lobby while everyone else walked around like they owned the place because they *did.* He was so tired of being in places where everything he saw was *someone else’s things.* Even in the spaces he’d claimed for himself, he could see his own trinkets sitting discordantly atop tables and cabinets that didn’t belong to him.

But he was less tired of being a guest than he was afraid of being a prisoner.

*Run.* “I have to think about it.”

Sir Pentious

"Of course, of course, yes. Think about it, that would be good-- t-that's what I said, after all! Hah....." He fidgeted there, the arms still wrapped around Alastor feeling odd now-- not unwelcome but just _odd_. He resisted the urge to pull them back completely, he didn't want to make it seem like it was a _bad_ thing, what Alastor had said.

But he had to ask. "Did you want me to....leave you alone? To think? Or....did you want to go somewhere to think? It's okay if you do, you know. I....hn, you don't have to stay if you need some space. I'd rather you take space when you need it."

Alastor

Telly knew him *too* well. “Space would be nice,” he said, with a voice a little too reminiscent of somebody carsick on a long drive declaring that pulling over at the next exit would be just a swell idea. He got to his feet, pulling out of Telly’s arms.

And immediately missed Telly’s touch. Oh, Alastor had it bad, didn’t he? (As if he didn’t already know that.) He reached down to grab Telly’s hands again.“I’m—not sure what to say.” Another nervous laugh. “I mean I’m *really* not sure—but—thank you. Whether or not I... Thank you.” But he couldn’t stand this much longer.

Sir Pentious

Telly squeezed Alastor's hands when they took his own, and finally looked at him-- and oh, he _look_ so nervous. And Telly's heart clenched. He wanted to pull him back down, kiss him silly, and then tell him to just forget everything. But he couldn't. This was important.

Instead, he simply pulled Alastor's hands closer, kissed the back of one, and then let go. He had to trust that he would come back-- he _did_ trust that, even if the small voice in the back of his head that sounded like George told him otherwise.

"I'll be here, when you're finished." He gave him a smile, though it wasn't a happy one. "You always know where to find me, my hart."

Alastor

Alastor was already smiling, of course. His wasn’t happy either. “And you always know how to call me, *mon roi.*”

He left without destroying everything, without burning all his bridges, without lying about what he felt. He left still shakily smiling. He was proud of himself for that.

(A small cruel scared part of him wished he’d destroyed everything. Then, at least, he wouldn’t still have to make a decision.)

[paulfwesley]

A Split Second (Part Five) [Bryce Lahela x f!MC

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f!MC (Dr. Claire King).

Chapter Rating: T

Word Count: 2.1K.

Description: He’s awake. Is this happily ever after? TW: guns, violence, blood. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. 

Disclaimer: Characters, storyline, and parts of the dialogue are taken from 

Pixelberry’s Choices’ Open Heart. They fully own the characters, dialogue, backgrounds, etc. MC Claire King’s background is my own creation, based off of MC in-game’s personality.

Author’s Note: Holy shit I’m so sorry!!! School started and caught up with me but good news!! This is the FINAL part! Holy shit, I’m never writing a series ever again. Expect one-shots from here on out lmfao. Thank you for your patience and I hope you like it! 

Tagging: @commander-rahrah @jaydito-tjjd @anotherbeingsworld @shakespeareanwannabe @bitchloveskcbaseball @wisegirl9 @rookie-ramsey @mrsdrakewalkerblog @omgjasminesimone @frenchieswiftie @jamespotterthefirst @elladines @thanialis @lucy-268 @sherrylove @bloominsgsivan @lahellacute @araihc-ce @ItimeisanillusionI @gracehailey @mvalentine 

Enjoy!

He’s like this because of you.

Those words circled around and around in Claire’s brain as she stood in the doorway of Bryce’s hospital room. Her feet hovered in the space between his room and the rest of the hospital, but she couldn’t bring herself to step in. She didn’t deserve to be in there, not when she was the reason he had been shot in the first place.

Keiki had already been in to see him and was now getting herself something to eat at Claire’s urging. She had gotten there as soon as the police had cleared the hospital and didn’t leave the waiting room until Harper had confirmed that everything had gone well. That was when Claire told her to finally take care of herself, and Keiki relented.

Claire’s foot moved a bit forward, and when she didn’t gawk at the guilt, she stepped more and more into she was fully in the room. She still hadn’t reached his bedside, but after a bit of prompting from the little voice inside her head that was shrieking at her, she came to a stop next to his bed.

He looked so pale. His lips, always curled up into a smile, were stick thin, almost turning downwards into a grimace in unconscious pain. A nasal tube was stuck in his nose, and despite the terrible circumstances Claire couldn’t help but think that only Bryce could make one of those look cute.

She raised a tentative hand, her fingers brushing his forehead. His skin was cold to the touch, feeling like ice against her burning hand. Claire ran her hand through his hair, the strands tickling the space in between her fingers. She couldn’t count the amount of times she had ruffled Bryce’s hair in the past, but this time felt so close, so intimate, that her lower lip wobbled at the thought and a tear threatened at the corner of her eye.

Biting her lip, Claire touched her forehead to his. He stayed still under her, but she relished in the feeling of his eyelashes kissing hers. The longer she remained like that, the more his skin started to warm up just from the feeling of hers. After a few seconds, she pressed a soft kiss to the spot between his brows. Her lips travelled down the slope of his nose, to the spot above his cupid’s bow, to his chin. She turned her cheek when she got to his neck, the apple of her face running along the hollow of his throat until it rested against his chest, right above his beautiful heart.

Claire had laid her head against Bryce’s chest many times. She loved the sound of his heartbeat, always firm and strong and real under her ear. But now the beats were weak, though she knew they would get stronger with each passing second. Fear clenched her insides at the thought that this wonderful heart of his could have stopped today. It could have ceased entirely, and she would have lost him forever.

Her tears burned her cheeks, falling onto Bryce’s clean hospital gown. Claire squeezed her eyes shut as she hiccupped, her throat burning with despair. Her fingers tangled in the neckline of his gown, holding on for dear life. She knew it was probably unethical, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. This touch was enough to keep her calm, to remind her that Bryce was alive, he had made it out of surgery, he’d live. That he’d taken a bullet for her and still didn’t know how much she loved him. 

Bryce’s chest stuttered under her cheek, and Claire raised her head in alarm, her eyes wide. Her gaze immediately went to the monitor next to him, but it was normal. With a furrowed brow, she turned her attention back to Bryce, and was greeted with the sight of his brown ones meeting her blue ones.

Instead of the usual groggy filter covering the eyes of post-op patients, Bryce’s were wild with concern. He struggled to raise his hand off of his bed, reaching out for Claire. “Ar—are you—” he choked out, his throat bobbing uncomfortably from long disuse and the strain of breathing after having surgery on his lungs.

Claire rushed to his side, taking his hand in hers. Her heart leaped when he folded his over hers protectively. “Don’t try to talk,” she instructed.

Bryce licked his cracked lips, but instead of taking her advice he pawed the front of her scrubs. “B—blood—”

“What?” she wondered, then it clicked in her mind. Claire looked down to see that she was still in the blood-stained scrubs she had been in after Wally had shot Bryce and she had done everything she could to help him. She really should have changed before she came to see him, but the thrill of having heard that he had made it through the surgery overwhelmed every rational thought in her brain. Her only thought was that she had to get to his side. Nothing else mattered except Bryce. “Oh,” she said. She sniffled, fingering the material between her thumb and the pads of her forefinger. “I’m fine, I promise. It’s actually your blood.”

“Mine?” he questioned. Claire could see the fingers of his other hand move under the blanket to graze his side. “Right. I was shot.”

“Do… do you remember what happened?” Claire wondered. She tentatively sat down next to him on the bed, careful not to jostle him.

“Some guy…” he recounted, a faraway look in his dazed eyes. Despite the fact that Bryce didn’t seem to be all there yet, his hand maintained a tight grip on hers. “Gun… pointing at you. I didn’t see much else after that.”

Claire choked out a sob. “Why?” she wondered. That finally made Bryce’s eyes focus on her. “Why did you do push me away? That bullet was meant for me.”

“Which is why…” he groaned from the effort of speaking, but he kept going. “I did it.”

“Bryce…” Claire said, her voice impossibly soft. “You could have died.”

“It was you or me,” Bryce said matter-of-factly. “And I knew it had to be you.”

“Bryce, don’t talk like that,” she scolded, her grip tightening on him. “If you had died, I would have died.”

“You would’ve… been fine,” he insisted, his breathing laboured. “You would’ve… been alive. That was all that mattered.”

“Your life matters,” Claire said sternly. “More than mine. If something had happened to you because of me…” A lump lodged in her throat, and more tears slipped down Claire’s cheeks. “I thought I was going to lose you. I thought you were going to die.” With a shaking hand, she cupped his cheek, stroking her thumb along his cheekbone. “And I thought you were going to die without you knowing how much I love you.”

Bryce stilled under her fingertips. “What?” he whispered. “But… Ramsey—”

Claire rolled her eyes despite the fact that they were still shining with tears. “For a smart guy you’re incredibly stupid,” she said. “Bryce, you are the one that I love. I think a part of me always knew it… but just didn’t want to deal with it because I thought we were better as friends. And yeah, Doctor Ramsey had something to do with it, but at the end of the day, it was you who showed up for me, every time it really mattered.” Claire gave him a watery smile. “It’s your arms that comfort me. Your jokes that make me laugh, especially when I shouldn’t. Your stupidly adorable face that makes me want to get up in the morning every day. The thought of you is enough to make me happy.” Her lower lip wobbled. “So when I thought you were going to die, I don’t know how I would have gone on.” She leaned forward so their noses brushed. “You’re everything to me, Bryce Lahela. And I love you.”

“But…” He swallowed thickly. He couldn’t believe that these words were coming out of Claire’s mouth, and directed at him. It was so painful, he couldn’t bear to even feel a bit of it if it didn’t turn out to be wholly true. “What about… your happily ever after?”

With a vulnerable look that bared her soul to him, she said, “My only happily ever after is you.”

Softly, tentatively, Claire touched her lips to his. And it was like coming home.

She never thought she’d get to kiss him again, so she savoured the way his lips fit perfectly to hers, the taste of his mouth, the sweetness of his breath. Everything she loved about him, rolled into a perfect package.

She didn’t want to push things too hard, considering she didn’t know how much pain Bryce was in. It seemed, however, that pain wasn’t enough to stop Bryce. He raised his free hand to her chin, grasping it and tilting it to give him better access to her lips. Every kiss was like finally taking a sip of water after a hot day, every kiss was like a breath of air into his body, every kiss was life-saving.

And if Bryce played his cards right, he’d get these kisses every day for the rest of his life.

When they finally broke away, he brushed his nose against hers. “If it wasn’t clear, I love you too, Claire,” he said, the words touching her cheeks. “You’re the face that I want to come home to every day.”

She grinned, that beautiful smile that he loved. “I would hope so. You took a bullet for me.”

He laughed, though the sound was strained. “I can’t wait to use that every time we get into an argument.”

She cocked a brow. “What?”

“I mean, every time we fight, I can just say ‘I got shot for you’ so you have no choice but to agree,” he said cheekily.

Claire rolled her eyes. “You are such an opportunist.”

“And yet you still love me.”

She smiled softly, like the first glow of the sun peeking through blinds. “Yeah. I do.”

With that, Claire settled her head against Bryce’s chest, where she already heard his heartbeat starting to pick up. A beautiful song, one that she couldn’t wait to memorize. He smelled sterile, but she could already begin to pick up the scent that was so sweet, so delicious, so distinctly Bryce that it brought a smile to her face. Her hand laid on his chest, brushing the spot where he had been shot. She knew there would probably be a scar, but once she let him know that scars were sexy, he’d definitely be less insecure. And then she’d kiss it, over and over. It would be a wordless affirmation: I trust you. I want you. I love you. She’d be happy to say those words over and over, until their wedding day, the birth of their children, the day they died. But for today, she’d hold him and be thankful that he was alive, that he’d get to reach those milestones with her. She would be grateful that she owned Bryce Lahela’s heart, and that he owned hers.

Bryce wrapped his strong arms around her as she nestled into his embrace. Her breath tickled his collarbone, but instead of being bothered by it, it reminded him of the nights they shared. The calm, the crazy, the crying, but they always ended the same: with Claire resting against his heart, looking relaxed and happy and safe. It brought him a sense of comfort, a feeling that was purely home. And he knew; he knew that he could go to sleep every night, just like this. With the woman of his dreams cuddled against him, with his grip on her like he would be a fool to let her go. And he wasn’t going to. He would never let her go. He’d hold her hand for the rest of this life, and then the next, and then the next. For however long they had together. And Bryce hoped that they’d have a long, long time together. But for today, he’d hold her and be grateful that this beautiful woman had seen past what everybody sees: a playboy, a pretty boy, the boy everyone chooses second. And he’d be grateful that she was the one that chose him first.

A split second. Sometimes that was all it took to take a life. To contemplate your life. To make you realize what really matters. To wake up. To realize. To love.

So say it. With your whole chest, with every ounce of power you can put behind it, at the top of your lungs. Say it.

And you’ll end up right where you belong.

[marvelsdc22]

Speaking Through Dance

Intro: Hello, lovelies!! I hope you guys are having a good day/night!! This was requested by an anon and let me tell you, I have been so fucking excited to get to this request, so I hope you enjoy!! :) (Title subject to change)

Note: Y/N is deaf, but can understand lip reading, pure fluff, with some slight teasing from readers end.

Word Count: 1155

I had this idea stewing for a little: Jade West taking interest in Deaf!Dancer!R in her classical dance class, and when they are assigned as dance couples, she tries her best to communicate (speaking, lip reading) but after a while it’s the motion of their bodies they understand? :D

When Jade first walked into her classical dance class, she thought she was just going to have to suffer through it since it was one of her requirements; looking around, she spotted Cat in the class so she made her way over to her, rolling her eyes when Cat immediately started rambling to her and glancing at the door when it opened, watching as you entered the room in a rush “You were almost late, Y/L/N” the professor said, seeming to wait until you were looking at her and you nodding before giving an apologetic look “Sorry, ma’am” you apologized, sounding quieter than Jade would’ve imagined, her staring being interrupted when the professor clapped her hand “Alright, class…”

As time went on, Jade found herself focusing on you more and more, you were an incredible dancer but you didn’t seem to talk to many people, currently you were doing your stretches in the corner of the room until you caught a glimpse of Jade staring at you, you giving her a small smile and a tiny wave before the professor approached you “Jade, you’re staring” Cat pointed out, playing with her hair as she looked at Jade who jumped since Cat was not there two seconds ago “I am not” Jade snapped, glancing at you one last time before going back to her stretches.

“Hold on everyone, I have to assign you to your partners and I suggest you talk to them before you leave because there will be no time during class to work on your dance routines for the final” The professor said once it hit time for class to be over, going through the list of names “Cat and James… Jade and Y/N…” Jade tuning her out as she looked over at you, you staring back at her with a small smile before you went over to her “I’m Y/N” you introduced, having noticed her staring at you plenty of times but neither of you introducing each other “Jade” she responded, looking at you and taking your hand “So, I was thinking that we could meet up about 5ish” she continued, her having turned to her bag about halfway through the sentence so you only caught the first part, her raising a brow at your silence before she turned to see you with a confused look “I didn’t catch that” you said, idly gesturing to your ears and watching Jades eyes widen in recognition “Oh… I’m sorry, I didn’t-“ You cutting her off with a raised hand “Don’t… I’ll see you tonight around 5” you said, making a quick escape.

Jade felt terrible after that whole event, but came into the room at 5, seeing that you were already stretching and catching a glimpse of her in the mirror before you turned to look at her “Hey… Sorry about earlier, I’m not really upset” you assured, knowing you overreacted a small bit and watching her shake her head “No, I should’ve stopped at the ‘I’m sorry’” Jade said, making you raise an eyebrow “Hmm” you hummed, looking at her and going to grab something from your bag as she raised an eyebrow at you “What?” She asked when you looked at her once more “I just find it a little funny that the Jade West is admitting to fault” you chuckled, knowing her reputation and swearing you saw red across her cheeks now.

Clearing her throat, Jade set her bag down before going over to you “So, since you seem to know your stuff more than I do, what are we doing?” She asked, looking at you and feeling her face heat up more at how intently you were looking at her lips they’re just reading your lips, dumbass she scolded herself, watching as you scrolled through your ipod “Well, I was thinking we could do a dance to Chopin’s Nocturne Op. 9 if you’ve ever heard of that?” You said, looking back at her and watching her just stare at you “Right, more of a rock person” you laughed, shaking your head and going to hook your ipod up to the speakers “Just do what I do” you said, pressing play and going slow for her.

About halfway through the dance, you felt Jade knock into you and looked over at her, seeing the frustration on her face so you stopped, going and stopping the music before going over to her “You’ll get it” you assured her, reaching out and touching her arm, watching as she met your eyes “Will I though? Classical is not my thing” Jade said, knowing she sounded way out of her usual character but she was frustrated “It takes time, here” you said, having her stand up straight before you placed your hands on hers “Hold your arms here and…” continuing to mutter as you put her into the correct position “That’s the opening move” you said, walking around her so you could see her better and watching as she struggled to hold it “Lets call it a night” you suggested, watching as she gave you a relieved look before you both started to pack up.

As the weeks went on, you and Jade started to slowly get more into tune with one another, while Jade wasn’t with you practicing or just hanging out, she couldn’t help the fact that you were constantly on her mind, no matter what she was doing, you were there in the back of her mind “Jade” Beck said, causing her to jump and look at him “You’ve been staring at the statue for five minutes now” he pointed out, looking at her and watching as she shook her head “What’s on your mind?” He asked, unfazed by the glare she gave him until she sighed “It’s my partner for my dance course… When we first met, I thought I screwed up, but now I feel like we know each other, we’re in tune with everything we do, and…” Jade said, seeming to lose her train of thought “You like them” Beck suggested, looking at her and watching as Jade seemed to fight it before she nodded and looked at him “I do” she said, watching as he smiled “I’m sure they like you too, shoot your shot” he said, nudging her gently before they went back to what they were doing.

Finally, the week of the final came and at this point, you and Jade seemed to be able to read each other like the back of your hands, all you guys had to do was a simple dance move together and you guys could have a full conversation in those small movements, when the song started, you both moved in graceful movements, knowing exactly when the other was going to break off or come in close, by the end of it, both of you were panting and smiling, resting your forehead on Jades as you waited for some indication of applause, Jade pulling back and taking your hand in hers so you could face the class and take your bows.

After your dance, the professor told you guys to go and change out, so you guys escaped to the locker rooms “That was amazing!” You exclaimed, grinning at Jade when the door shut behind the two of you and raising an eyebrow when she just stared at you “Jade?” You asked, gasping when she rushed forward and pressed her lips to yours in a heated kiss, melting into the kiss and wrapping your arms around her neck “Go out with me?” You breathed, smiling at her and feeling her nod before she pulled you into another kiss.

Permanent Taglist: @rianncreates​​ / @5aftermidnight​​ / @youngandwildx7​​ / @stewie-castle​​

Jade Taglist: @supergirl-imaginess​​

End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed!! If you want to be added to a Taglist, shoot me an Ask or a DM!! Have a good day/night!! :)

Requests Open

[imagine-loki]

Atlas: Space, Moon

TITLE: Atlas: Space

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: 5/12

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine narrating episodes of Loki’s life with the Avengers based on the songs from Sleeping At Last’s “Atlas: Space” album. 

RATING: T-M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Welcome to my Sleeping At Last’s Atlas: Space challenge, aka Another writing project I do not have time for, but my brain insisted on doing.

This series will be less like a multichapter fic and more of a one-shot compendium, but that they all interconnect in one way or another. It will revolve around Loki and Becca’s relationship (Taking Turns, Glow, Helmet Heists–don’t worry, more Loki-Charlie stuff will be along) and I will use those one-shots as reference to the timeline. Each chapter will be one song, used as inspiration for the story.

Chapter 5: Moon

Summary: Hell hath no wrath like an out-of-the-loop Tony. Are you ready for this to get kinda soft? Because it gets kinda soft. (Happens previous to Taking Turns.)

Warnings include: Language. Loki wishing heat-stroke had taken him, soft and vulnerable frost giant fluff, and two idiots who just need to fucking kiss already.

=

[Instrumental track-really good reading music, btw]

Loki groaned pitifully as he awoke. His whole body felt like it had been dipped in lead and tossed to the bottom of the deepest ocean where he fell into an ever-deepening trench. Except he wasn’t dipped in anything. He wasn’t in the ocean. He was in the Med Bay, after, most likely, being pulled out of the mission, and, after the humiliation of passing out, he just wished he was drowning.

He tried moving his fingers first, opening and closing his fists tentatively to gauge the ache. He found the dull throb a reminder that he was, indeed, an idiot. His skin looked pale–well, paler than usual–and several lines seemed to have been placed directly into his veins with fluids. He wondered how Banner had even managed to get the needles to pierce his skin, but that was neither here nor there.

A noise of pages turning beside him, rustled. Loki bargained with the universe to end his miserable existence now, rather than have to face the person he knew was occupying the chair beside his bed. The universe denied his plea, as it always did. He wondered why he even bothered asking, anymore.

Becca looked about as tired as he felt. Though her hair was tied up in a sleek braid that was draped over her shoulder, and her clothes looked fresh and kempt, her eyes had dark bags beneath them. They were also rimmed in red. She had been crying. Surely it had not been over him, had it? With a groan, he sat up.

“Welcome back.” Her voice was soft, though hoarse and her face was littered in small, half-healed cuts. He must not have been asleep for too long. He was almost hesitant to break the calm quietness of the moment, though that was quickly solved. 

The sound of Bruce repeating Tony’s name in a plea echoed in the empty medical facility. A second later Tony, red in the face, was in front of Loki’s cot, pointer finger gesturing the Prince.

“Do you have any idea how fucked we could have been because of your little stunt?” Loki had the good sense to look down in shame, hair forming a dark curtain around his face to hide the flush creeping up his neck. “If Becca hadn’t been in position to get to you, we’d be retrieving your corpse right around now. Do you understand that, Loki? Dead! You would survived every other fucking thing the Universe had thrown at you and you would’ve bowed out because of fucking heat stroke!”

He growled, seemingly no longer capable of speech and knocked over a tray, making both Becca and Loki start.

“I had to pull Thor from his assignment because I had no idea if he was going to pass out, too. We had to scramble the whole roster to finish the mission because you weren’t bothered to tap out when you reached your limit! We nearly fucked this whole op because of you. You are in such deep shit, Mischief. I swear to God!”

With that sentiment hanging in the air, Tony turned tail and stomped his way out of the hospital room.

Loki turned to Becca, his eyes looked pained as he took her in. “I’m so–” She raised a finger, wordlessly telling him to hold his thought before she pointed back at the Med Bay entrance where Tony was rushing back in. She seemed almost amused by the man’s predictability. In reality, she was just used to seeing this song and dance routine being done with Peter.

“A frost giant in 110 plus degree heat? Really? You should have told us, Loki!” He roared and Loki stilled as his blood ran as cold as his species name. “You should have told us the second you started working here. Let me be clear. I don’t give a shit what the hell you are. You can be an ice giant, a fae princess or a goddamn opossum–you don’t keep that from us!” He raked his hair frustratedly, trying to swallow the rest of his yelling and barely succeeding. “I would have given you a different beat on mission. I would have given you both a different beat.” Loki opened his mouth to protest, but was promptly cut off. “Do you think I don’t know you went on that mission because of Becks? What kind of a moron do you take me for?”

“Not a damn word, Loki,” Becca warned, smirking. “This is not the moment to be clever.” Loki pressed his mouth to a thin line, glaring shortly at the woman for denying him his only defense mechanism at present. 

Tony rolled right through the joke, too keyed up to be amused. “You are grounded, do you hear me? Grounded! No more missions until I decide that you’ve learned your damn lesson. No more leaving the compound for pizza in the city. No special passes to Asgard. Completely grounded. Am I understood?”

Loki surprised himself by nodding effusively to the demands, back pressed against the headboard as though he intended to meld into the wall behind him. Tony stomped back out, muttering out loud about idiots who were going to give him a heart attack. Loki glanced back at Becca, who was sitting crisscross, book abandoned on the portion of her thighs left bare by her shorts. In the scratchy paper gown Loki felt entirely out-of-place in her presence. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to want to leave.

Despite her neutral expression, he could see something akin to hurt lurking behind her eyes. “I didn’t tell–”

“It’s fine,” Becca cut in, waving him off. “It was none of my business. I get it.” She sniffed delicately, her eyes dropping to the checkered floor of the hospital as if it help some great secret.

“Rebecca…”

She glanced up and unwound her legs, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. “I’m glad you’re OK.”

When she made to leave, Loki wrapped his fingers around her wrist and held her still. “It wasn’t because of you or because I didn’t trust you.”

The woman looked like she debated not arguing but thought better of it at the last moment, letting the frustration pour out of her every pore. “That doesn’t change the fact that I was the one who watched you almost die without knowing the reason.”

“I didn’t want it to change how you saw me,” he explained for reasons he could not comprehend.

Becca scoffed, leaning down to get eye level with him. He could feel her breath on his face and at any other point in time, he would have celebrated being in this position. Something in the back of his head told him he shouldn’t cheer this time around.  “Literally no one gave a shit what you looked like as we dragged your giant-ass, blue body onto the jet. We only prayed you wouldn’t die before we hit ally airspace, you fucking moron,” she explained slowly, voice trembling and eyes watering. “We work with a bioengineered, sentient gem–you’re not that fucking special.”

Loki swallowed thickly, suddenly terrified of the burning rage reflected in her warm eyes. It was bright, beaming, smoldering fear that fueled it. Fear that she would lose him before they managed to land somewhere that might have been safe to intervene on him. Fear that she would lose a colleague, a friend. Fear that she would never make him pay for keeping her in the dark for so long. Loki felt every last bit of that fear, magnified tenfold to become his own.

He leaned his forehead onto her clasped hand. “I didn’t want you to know who I really was and chance scaring you off.”

“Are you dumb or what?” She snapped, gritting her teeth in an effort to contain her tears. “Why would I judge you over something you have no control over? After all we’ve done? All we’ve lived? I thought I showed you who I was a little better than that.”

“It wasn’t about you–”

“Evidently it was or you wouldn’t care if I saw!” She snapped before sighing, brushing his tangled hair back with her free hand. “You worried me a hell of a lot.” There was so much held back in her voice, he could tell, but he was not about to try his luck and pressure her into revealing her secrets. 

“I’m sorry, Rebecca.” Loki had never apologized for a damn thing in his life, but he couldn’t help but let the words slip now, as she watched him with worry in her eyes and hurt in her soul.

“Scoot over, Evil Smurf,” she teased softly, and the words landed as painfully as if she had called him my love. He wanted this. He wanted this playful pain, but he couldn’t reason to himself why. 

Swallowing a groan, he shifted over in the hospital cot. Becca clambered in easily and draped her arm around his shoulders, feeling him tense momentarily. After a second, the warmth of her digits seeped into his skin, and he melted into her side. When he let out a small sad whine, she pressed a kiss to his temple and allowed him to hide his face into the crook of her neck. Whether their silent agreement to shelve their discussion was due to shock of their mutual vulnerability or pure exhaustion, it was unsure. They merely accepted the conditions and sat tangled up, with only the sound of their breathing.

That’s how Bruce found them, asleep, an hour later when he went in to change Loki’s IV bag.

[half-bakedboy]

I loved your domestic fluff so much that I was hoping you’d consider writing something like that again using the line: “I’m not going to stop until you give me attention” The POV doesn’t matter, so I’ll leave that part up to you!

Inappropriate Use of MagicRead on AO3

The Institute had been on lockdown going on an entire week. He had spent a majority of his nights in the ops center, awaiting another attack that had taken most of his passable shadowhunters out of the front lines. The one semblance of luck they had was the fact that Magnus and Catarina were locked in with them, magically conjuring any food and medical supplies they needed. 

But everyone was getting antsy. Jace wanted to be out hunting, Izzy wanted to be away from Jace. Clary just wanted to be locked in her room, but Simon was incessantly annoying her to no one's surprise. All in all, Alec was about ready to take a seraph blade to his own heart to stop the madness. He figured gluing his eyes to the Institute’s security system made more sense, so that’s what he had been doing for over 48 hours.

He felt the small bit of magic on the back of his neck and opted to ignore it in favor of doing his job. Magnus had been the worst of all of them. Alec thought that an immortal being would have figured out how to entertain himself throughout his long, long life. He was realizing slowly that he was asking too much of Magnus.

Another blast of magic ran down his spine, tracing cool patterns into his back. Alec recognized them as runes quickly and spent a few minutes guessing each drawing at it finished. He was glad to have something to distract him from the monotonous task of sorting through the cameras. The magic stopped abruptly and Alec let his head drop back to the screens in front of him with a huff. He felt it again, wrapping around his bicep and tugging. Alec pulled his arm forward, his eyes still trained on the camera, his vision rune hot on his forearm. 

The tugging stopped and it took Alec a lot of his strength to not turn around. The next few minutes, small bursts of magic flooded through him, the feeling of it running through his hair, grazing the back of his neck, sliding down his spine, sparking at his ass. He rolled his eyes and rested his hands on the table, white knuckling the edge to hold back his annoyance. Magnus seemed to sense his annoyance as the magic stopped once again. He focused his eyes on the cameras, ignoring everything around him. 

Alec felt it sliding around his ankle a few minutes later, wrapping around gently and then pulling his leg out from under him. He stumbled forward, but caught himself on the table in front of him. He turned quickly, a glare on his face as he started toward Magnus. 

“Are you kidding me? Do you not realize that if I don’t keep an eye out on these cameras to figure out whatever is injuring us the minute we leave the doors, we won’t ever be able to leave?” Alec shouted, toe to toe with his magic wielding husband. Magnus brought his nails to his face and blew off the remaining bit of magic that simmered there. 

“I’m not going to stop until you give me attention,” Magnus explained. Alec rolled his eyes, but couldn’t keep the fondness out of them. He wrapped his arms around Magnus’ waist and pressed their foreheads together as he closed his eyes for the first time in entirely too many hours. 

“You’re like a cat, you know that?” Alec said as he shook his head, his nose brushing against Magnus’ with the movement. When he opened his eyes, Magnus was grinning up at him, his eyes crinkling with the wideness of it. 

“It’s been hours since I was able to kiss you, Alexander. You can’t ignore me like that and expect me not to play around a little. You know me better than that,” Magnus chided. Alec smiled back and pressed a kiss to Magnus’ nose and then his lips, letting them linger a moment too long. The Institute alarms sounded and Alec pushed off of Magnus to run back to the cameras. He saw the shadow of the demon and with a smirk on his face, he turned back toward Magnus. 

“Kill this thing and you’ll get all of my attention,” Alec challenged. Magnus snapped his fingers and red magic lit up around them immediately. Alec laughed as he grabbed his bow and followed Magnus to the doors, smacking the end of the bow on Magnus’ ass before muttering, “payback.” 

[animation-recaps-by-sean]

She Ra and the Princesses of Power Season Five Recap

In the finale season, Catra is forced to reevaluate her life, without the sword Adora discovers new things about She Ra, and Horde Prime makes his move. We’re in the endgame folks. Spoilers below.

I loved this season. I love it to pieces. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen a season finale that was as great as this. This was a packed season, but they did a great job of having everything flow together.

The season begins with Adora throwing herself into battle. She doesn’t really know what to do without She-Ra. The rebellion is left in shatter, with Horde Prime forces running amok. I do wonder what happened with Hordak’s horde. Lonnie, Kyle, and the Lizard guy get a cameo in the last episode but the other ground troops just aren't mentioned. Not important but curious to what became of them.  

Entrapta was big this season. Maybe the writers were making up for her being absent most of last season. It starts with the other princesses pissed at the tech girl as they think she only works for the science. I mean they're not wrong. But Entraptra does care for people she just doesn’t know how to show it. She’s also bad at reading people, as she didn’t realize all the princesses were mad at her until knee deep in a mission.

Meanwhile Adora realizes that thinking about her friends she contacts the power of She Ra without the sword. This could have used just a bit more information on how it works, but I’ve seen a lot of anime, I’m used to this sort of thing. Bow, Adora, and Entraptra blast off into space to find Glimmer.

Speaking of Glimmer, she and Catra find themselves trapped on Horde Prime’s ship. I was worried that Horde Prime would be underdeveloped compared to Hordak or Catra, but he is fantastic. He is absolutely in control of every scene he’s in. I’m in awe with how charming and fighting they make him. That dinner scene was amazing. I am amazed with how quickly they set him up. He’s almost like White Diamond, genocidal lunatic with a light motif, like to hijack bodies, but with actual time to develop. Can you believe I didn’t like Keston John when I first heard him back in season one? He’s so great! He plays each Horde clone with the same voice but his acting makes them distinct from each other. It’s like listening to H. Jon Benjamin in Bob’s Burgers than Archer.

Catra realizes that her game of thronesing doesn’t work in an army made up of drones and clones with a hive mind. Realizing she has nothing left, Catra is focused to be introspective and spend time with Glimmer. Thinking she’s about to die Catra teleports Glimmer back to Adora.

When Adora realizes Ctara did something for someone else, she instantly goes into hero mode. She flies into Horde Prime’s base. They split up; Adora confronts Horde Prime, Bow and Entraptra try to hack his system for info, while Glimmer looks for Catra in the holding cells.

Entraptra sees a clone in a pod who she thinks is Hordak, so she gets him out but the clones freaks out being separated from the hive mind. Hoder Prime shows Adora a mind controlled Catra with shaved hair. He has Adora fight Catra, the chip on the back of her neck gets damaged, giving Catra just enough control to jump off the edge. Adora leaps off to get her but it’s only a few feet to the bottom so the both survive; drama queens. Seeing Catra hit sends Adora all Ultra Instinct.

Adora and everyone escapes, even Wrong Hordak (the name they give the freed clone). Catra acts like, while Catra, and tries pushes everyone away. But she realizes that Horde prime can trace her through the chip. While Entraptra works on the chip, Catra apologizes and the two have a moment. I was worried they would drag Catra’s redemption arc and the series would end on a fight between her and Adora like Saskue and Naruto. I am so glad that is not the case. I love Bow and Glimmer teasing Catra about her sneezes. Or Catra bonding with Glimmer and Bow over bonding teasing Adora. And they changed the opening, when Catra and Adora cross weapons, they’re smiling at each and Catra is in the hero group shot and it’s wonderful. Also Catra rocks that pixie cut.

With Wrong Hordak’s help, they find a planet that Horde Prime gave up trying to conquer. This sends Wrong Hordak into an extensional crisis. I love Catra realizing what idiots the best friend squad actually are. Like, she lost to these guys? They realize that Horde Prime is afraid of magic as he can’t understand or control it. Catra then meets a shapeshifting cat creature called Melog, who is a combination of a one shot shapeshifting mud monster, Catra’s own shapeshifting powers from the original series and her pet lion Clawdeen who looked exactly like Lion from Steven Universe.

Meanwhile back on Etheria, Mermista leads a James Bond heist with Sea Hawk, Perfumia, and Scorpia. They’re looking for a clairvoyant in a nightclub, but it ends up as just Double Trouble. This is properly one of the strongest episodes in the show. Horde Prime has started assimilating everyone; including Mermista, Spinnerella, and Scorpia are all chipped.

It is strange that at the eleventh hour Spinnerella and Netossa are given so much attention, but it works. They actually became characters after four seasons of them being joke characters. The show really sells the heartbreak Netossa feels at Spinnerella’s mind control. Netossa has spent the last four seasons cataloging every princesses weakness, a surprising amount is fire. Catra’s is of course a spray bottle.

This is the environment that The best friend squad find themselves in when they arrive back on Etheria. They get around with the help of Wrong Hordak, it’s hilarious. Perfurma is ecstatic that she doesn’t have to be in charge anymore.

While searching the Fright Zone, Adora and the gang run into the controlled princesses. And now that she is connected to the garnet crystal, so now she has op electric powers. Catra all like why could she do this when we were on the same side. And of course Catra also has to fight the water princess.

Horde prime realizes that he can access the heart of etheria without She Ra, and sets out to do just that. Entraptra runs into the real Hordak this time and tries to awaken him, he doesn’t capture her but he doesn’t go with her either.

Bow’s dads discover that there is a fail safe attached to the heart and destroy it. Shadow Weaver pops up and reveals that she knows where the fail safe is, Mystacor. So the rebellion goes on, and Shadow Weaver gonna Shadow Weaver and starts to be little Catra and needling Adora about getting stronger. She even flat says that Catra is holding Adora back. But when they reach the failsafe, Catra realizes that Shadow Weaver was tricking them. She's been here before and went back for them.

Shadow Weaver realized that the failsafe sucks all the magic out of the heart and sends it to the person, incinerating the user in magic. Only She ra has a chance of surviving. Adora being Adora, jumps at a chance to literally kill herself to save the world.

Catra can’t watch Adora do this so she leaves the group. You can see the heartbreak when she says that Adora will never like her the way that she likes Adora. Shadow Weaver goes to congratulate Adora on Finally getting rid of Catra, but Adora is having none of it. She tells the sorceress off and departs on her own. She even leaves Glimmer and Bow trapped in a hologram so they won’t try to save her.

While sulking, Catra sees Horde prime loudly announcing his plans to hijack Etheria. Fortunately for sour heroes, his control is visible as green light. Catra rushes to warn Adora but runs into a properly drunk Shadow Weaver. They rush off to save Adora. They bump into Glimmer and Bow and warn them of what’s happening on the surface. Glimmer and Bow go off to help the princesses, not both Glimmer and Catra have a really nice moment.

Meanwhile Adora sees Mara. Adora is so weirdly excited to sacrifice herself so everyone will be happy. But Mara sadly points that it didn’t work for her. Adora is attacked by a monster the first ones left to protect the heart. Catra and Shadow Weaver catch up and Catra gets Adora out of there. Shadow Weaver does one decent thing in her life and sacrifices herself to save the children she hurt so much. I’m not thrilled about her face heel turn but at least she died. I think there is something about the inherent narcissism of self sacrifice and how Adora shouldn’t do that but it is a small thing.

Entraptra sneaks into Horde Prime’s headquarters so she can unassimilate everyone. She is joined by Bow while Glimmer helps her remaining friends fight her father. Bow fights Scorpia when Entrapia is captured by Horde Prime himself. Hordak is with them. Entrapia encourages him to remember how he is. Hordak gets control of himself again and throws Horde prime over the edge; declaring himself his own man. But Horde prime just mind hopes right into Hordak’s body.

Back at the heart, Adora has a vision; her, Catra, Glimmer, and Bow old, safe, and having fun on the way to Scorpia’s ball. The real Catra appears; holding her hand out while the real Catra cradles Adora’s unconscious body. She confesses that she loves Adora. Adora awakes and says that she loves Catra too. And they kiss and the moment is perfect and earned and I’m so glad they got this to work. I wasn’t sure if the exces would let them do this and I’m so glad they got this moment. Your shipping getting canon is not always necceriassy but it is a fantastic feeling.

Bow and Glimmer had a moment too where Glimmer said she loved Bow and he kissed her forehead. It’s much more ambiguous than Catradora, but in an interview, Noelle realized that yes it was romantic but it was a last minute call, made literally in the recording booth.

Powered by lesbian love, Adora truns into She-Ra activates the failsafe and survives. But Horde primes figures if he can’t use the heart, he’ll kill everyone including himself, purged in the white light of fire. She Ra confronts him and banishes him from Hordak’s mind; leaving him to die without a body. Hordak remembers finding dear Adora as a baby.

Glimmer meets her dad and Catra reconciles with Scorpia. Razz nods in approval as the magic restores the planet. Adora declares that she’ll travel space spreading magic with her friends and her girlfriend.  

The ending is too abrupt. I don’t need a five year later epilogue but just spending a bit of more time with these characters to say goodbye. Catra and Scorpia and Glimmer and her dad get no time which is a big shame. Razz, a huge character last season, being reduced to a one line cameo is sad.

It was also weird that no one made a move to save Angella, when the show said she was trapped between dimensions not dead, so I thought they were sitting up a save her plot line. Maybe it was a censorship thing and trapped between dimensions meant she was dead.

I don’t know about anyone else, but I would love to see this version of She-Ra meet up with He-Man. I love crossovers and the two characters are literally siblings. Seeing this creative team tackling such ironic characters would be great. However, I don’t know if they could do this with the rights issues or if they would even want to do this. I know the popularity of this show has caused Netflix to greenlight two new He-Man shows; He-Man Revelation, a sequel to the original show helmed by Kevin Smith and a complete reboot. I’m sure both will be fine, but it won’t be the same.

This season and series is a triumph. The series started good but it wasn’t great, I remember thinking Bow and Glimmer in particular were very twee. Bow was basically diet Sokka in season one. But the characters grew and took on a life of their own. I’m glad I watched this show; I’m glad it was in my life.

4/4

[prince-ampora]

Kisses (betas)

INFO

-literally any and all ships in this, no i dont care if you ship them or not this is soft and cute

-just giving the bastards the love they deserve

-not a set time or place really

-idk why i used text quirks for dialogue but whatever just roll with it

-meant to get this up on vriska day (8/8) but i procrastinated oof

TRIGGER WARNINGS

-

***

It was all Rose's idea. Her observations provided insight into just how many of the others deserved more attention than they got. She gathered everyone but the three and devised a plan. It took some convincing but eventually, everyone agreed. Rose told the three included parts of the plan as well, just not their bigger involvement. They decided to put their plan into place today.

*

Vriska is watching a movie when the first of them get to her. It's Kanaya. "Vriska I Have Been Looking For You. I Would Like To Give You Something."  Vriska looks at her, puzzled, "Really? Wow, this is unexpected. I thought you h8ed me." Kanaya smiles, "I Don't. Here's The Something." Kanaya leans down to reach Vriska since she's sitting down and places a kiss on her forehead. Vriska's face heats up and a blue flush spreads across her cheeks. "Wh-" "Oh, Vwiskers!" Vriska looks toward the voice to see Nepeta. "I have somefang fur you too!" She plants a kiss on Vriska's cheek and runs off giggling while Vriska's blush grows. Kanaya smiles at the confusion. Eridan walks up, "Vvris, I wwon't bother ya for a wweek after this." He very quickly kisses her temple and absconds, afraid of what would happen if he sticks around. But she's too confused and flustered to do anything.

"What is going ON-" "hell0 vriska." "Aradia?" The robot places a cold metal kiss on Vriska's other cheek and floats the other way. That one is the most confusing for Vriska. The next one to walk up to her is Terezi, who, instead of licking her like she thought, simply pecked her on the tip of her nose, flashing a grin before leaving. Vriska's whole face is blue, especially as John walks up to her. "Hey, Vriska, bet you'll never guess what I'm gonna do." "Kiss me on the cheek?" John shakes his head and grabs her extremely warm face and kisses her full on the lips. Kanaya's grin is even wider as Vriska stammers, unable to comprehend what the fuck just happened.

*

The next victim of Rose's plan is Eridan. He's sulking in his room, so they all wait outside his door for their turn. The first to enter is Sollux. "Sol? Wwhat the fuck are you doin in my room?" The people outside of Eridan's door try hard not to laugh and give away their position, "2hut up ed. thii2 wa2nt my iidea, and ii dont want a quadrant wiith you but... here." Sollux reluctantly kisses Eridan on the cheek and absconds. Eridan softly touches his face in confusion and happiness as the next person enters his room. "Kan you wwouldnt believve wwhat just-" He's cut short when he feels a peck on his forehead. "There." Eridan's eyes slightly gloss over and his face starts to flush purple as Kanaya retreats. Next up is Vriska. She walks in with a grin and pulls him up from where he was sitting against the wall. "This is pay8ack for earlier." She dips him and kisses him right above his neck gills. Once he's back upright, his glasses are slightly askew. "H-hey! Vvris!" Vriska laughs as she leaves, high fiving Sollux outside of the door.

Equius, suprisingly, is the one to go next. He enters the room, already sweating profusely. "H-highb100d, I ap010gize if this is inappropriate but..." He very carefully kisses the top of Eridan's head, then leaves quickly. Eridan's cheeks and nose are very violet as he stammers. Rose enters and smiles at Eridan, fixing his glasses. "You look stupid right now." She kisses him on the cheek and leaves, sending in Karkat, who grumbles. "HEY FISHDICK, DON'T MAKE THIS WEIRD." Due to the height difference now that Eridan is standing- curse you Vriska- Karkat has to settle for grabbing Eridan's hand and kissing it. "YOU'RE NOT AS BIG OF A FUCKASS AS YOU'D THINK." And with that, Karkat leaves, tagging in Dave. Dave walks up without a word- which is very intimidating- and slides a hand around Eridan's waist and one at the back of his neck, pulling him down slightly. He kisses him on the nose and smiles before leaving, Eridan's brain fried. 

Feferi is the last one to enter, and everyone can practically hear Eridan tear up. She smiles at him softly, "I know we weren't the best moirails, but I )(ope we can still be good friends! I know you can be a good person!" She embraces him, only reaching his stomach. He takes the initiative and gently kisses the top of her head. "Sorry for bein a prick Fef. I'll try to be better an stop fightin or beggin so much." Feferi looks up to see him crying. She takes his bowed head and wipes his tears. "I beleive in you." As she leaves, the others outside the door all start crying, Karkat burying his face in Dave's chest.

*

The last victim of LOVE and VALIDATION is Karkat. He's watching a trashy movie while sitting on the floor as per usual, and Kanaya insists on going first. "Karkat. Let Me See Your Hand." Karkat looks at her a bit confused and raises his hand, which had gotten cut earlier by a busted can in cantown. "As Your Mother, That's How Rose Describes Our Relationship, This Is My Duty." She kisses the bandage and pats him on the cheek. "WH- KANAYA- WHAT WAS THAT?" She smiles, "Attention Karkat. You Deserve It." She leaves and is soon replaced by Eridan. "Kar, I wwanna thank you for actin as my moirail." "ERIDAN YOU DON'T HAVE TO-" Eridan's lips meet Karkat's cheek which effectively makes him stop talking. Eridan leaves and is replaced by Karkat's actual moirail, who runs up. "KaRbRo!" "AH, FUCK, GAMZEE-" Gamzee had landed on Karkat, knocking him over. Gamzee pretty much had him pinned to the ground. This has happened before, but it never fails to make Karkat's face flush.

"ThAnKs KaRbRo." Gamzee places some form of a kiss on Karkat's forehead and then runs off. John comes by next, using his windy thing to stand Karkat up. He smiles and kisses Karkat's cheek, "Still not a homosexual." Karkat turns to yell at him but he's already flying off so he just grumbles to himself. He turns back around only to see Sollux in his face. "Hey KK." Sollux kisses Karkat's other cheek and watches happily as Karkat's face goes even redder than it has been. Sollux is pushed out of the way though and replaced by Vriska. "Heyyyyyyyy Karkat. I just wanted to show my appreciation for our leader." "VRISKA YOU TOO? HOW MANY PEOPLE DID ROSE ROPE INTO THIS-" Vriska rolls her eyes and kisses his nose, "Nep! Your turn!" As she's called, Nepeta pounces into the room, a big smile on her face. "Karkitty!" He's too stunned to move so Nepeta uses her chance to back hug him and kiss his neck. It makes Karkat's hair stand up and his face turns redder. She leaves quickly with a giggle but is replaced by two more giggling girls, Jade and Feferi.

Karkat just gives up and watches as they each go to his side. "Thanks Karkat!" They say at somehow the same time and kiss his cheeks. "THAT WAS FUCKING CREEPY BUT... THANKS." Dave walks in as the girls leave and Karkat is already melting. Dave grabs his wrist and pulls him closer, wrapping his arm around Karkat's waist. "Hey kitkat." "SHUT UP AND KISS ME ALREADY," Dave smirks and does so, placing a kiss on Karkat's lips. They both pull away and smile at each other, happy.

This was definitely Rose's best idea.

[reeree1500]

The Return- Part 10

Disclaimer: YALL IM SO SO SO SORRY.😭😭 I have been horrible and not updated this story for at least a month.😬 I can explain though... University has been kicking my ass and between that and my co-op placement at a law firm.😅 Ive had absolutely no time to do anything😩 BTW IVE MISSED YALL SO MUCH❤️And Ive read all your messages and asks. And yes my mental health is now better and y'all are so understanding and supportive 💕 honestly could not have asked for a better group of individuals☺️❤️

Part 1 part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 part 8 part 9 Part 11 

Anyways onto the storyyyyy.....

Warnings: ANGSTY AF (kinda figured out that im probably a smut and angst writer at this point🤷🏽‍♀️), sucky ass grammar and spelling like always, my cliche imagination and the fact that Im probably a horrible human being😬😩 Also made it extra long cuz I felt baddd 

PLEASE DONT KILL ME FOR THIS ONE😬

Taglist: @yanii-the-hippie @oceans-daughter-3 @peaceisadirtyword @laketaj24 @camatsuru @youbloodymadgenius @calum-hoodwinked-me @cutegyrl927 @wuxiesalt @readsalot73 @cindy-exo @affection-rabbit @amy8220 @mel0nch0ly @queenofallthyfandoms @limbo-limbo-limbo @ragnarssonsbitch @supernaturalvikingwhore @ifihadwings128 @paintballkid711 @jenny-the-lover @funmadnessandbadassvikings @blonddnamedhandz @hallowed-heathen @pinkrockstar19 @ivarthethiccness

Sorry if I missed any of you💕 Lemme know if you want to be tagged. Also requests are open, and I’ve got a ton of them to do and finish. Hopefully Ill be able to post them soon enough

Arthur’s POV

“Arthur please! Open the door my love, I know what it may seem like to you, but I assure you that its not.” (Y/n) pleaded from the other side. I sat down on the mattress in our chamber contemplating whether or not it was true. Should I believe what my wife so desperately is trying to reassure me off. Or should I stick with my gut feeling and tell her how I have felt for the last 4 years. Her constant pounding on the door finally gets to me and I make my way to open it. “I wish to be left alone at the moment (y/n).” Her arms circle around my waist and I can feel her face wetting by back with tears. “Arthur please, talk to me. Why have you run off. You know that I love you. I do not want him, all he does is bring me pain and you take that away. So please, talk to me!” (y/n) murmurs into my back. As much as it pains me to do so I pry her hands off of me and sit us down on the bed. All I do is long for her touch, but this is not okay. I cannot keep feeling this way and go on pretending that I could have ever stood a chance against him. “(y/n), look at me. I love you and I always will. But its evident that you love him. and I honestly can say that I know I will never stand a chance against him, because the thought of you possibly running back to him has always been on my mind since the day we got married.” 

Her eyes showed so much pain that confessing this felt as if I was driving a knife through her heart. “Arthur, I love you. What can I do to show you that. Yes I confess that I was in love with him, but that was long ago and I have left it in the past in order to build a future with you. Whom I love and who I share and will continue to share beautiful children with. So please don't shut me out, Arthur.” She says leaning our foreheads together and holding my face in her gentle hands. “Ok, however I want to be able to process things by myself. So I have decided to have the guest room across the hall prepared only until I figure things out.” With out giving her a chance to fight back, I place my lips on hers and savour the kiss as if it were our last. Meeting her eyes was something I wanted to avoid as I knew that just looking at her broken expression would make me change my mind. I hastily make my way out of the room, but sneak a quick glance over my shoulder to find my wife staring off into the direction where I once sat. With tears streaming down her eyes...

Your POV

What had I done? Why was I such fool to not see what my husband was clearly going through? Millions of questions rushed into my mind about how to go about this situation. I loved Arthur, I was clear on that. But he spoke the truth, there was something in me that could not let Ivar go and it took hurting my husband and Ivar to figure that out. As I sulked I forgot about the doctor whom I had asked to see me earlier. I was having really bad stomach pains and my breasts were more tender then they had ever been. So I wanted to make sure that I was not sick, as that would have been the last thing I needed on my plate at the moment. “My Queen, are you alright? Do you wish to push back this appointment, I dont mind coming by later when you're better.” The doctor spoke from behind me. “Yes, it seems so. Ill let the servant girl know if I need you doctor. Im sorry for the inconvenience.” “Nonsense your majesty, it is my pleasure to serve you.” With a bow the doctor retreats from the room and Im left to my own thoughts once again...

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

“(y/n), wake up... its seems that you fell asleep on the floor. Come on I’ll help you up.” Upon hearing Hvitty’s comforting voice my eyes flutter open and I cant help the tears that song come down my face like a cascade. “(y/n)! are you alright are you hurt anywhere? Why are you crying?” Hvitserk’s eyes scan my face and my body looking for the source of my pain, which is held in my heart, but he’ll never know that. “Arthur... He...” I try to find the words to say. “What! What did he do! Did he hurt you? I swear ill kill him!” With that Hvitserk tries to let me go and run out the door, but somehow I manage to stop him. “Hvitserk, No! He didn't hurt me. I hurt him... He believes that Im in love with Ivar, and I fear that their maybe some truth to it...” I say just above a whisper, with my head held low. “(Y/N), Ive known that since before you were married. It was obvious, but I would never say anything to you because I found that it was best if I kept such observations to myself, before I found out about your father.” Lifting my head and staring directly at him, I move my head to the side with a puzzling look. “What do you mean about my father, Hvitserk?” Hvitserk now mirrors the same lost look that I have on my face. “I thought thats why you and Ivar had gotten together, because Ragnar’s not your father...”

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Ivar’s POV

“Aghhhh!”Is the sound that comes out of my gritted teeth when the medicinal herbs are placed on my face. “That hurts like a bitch, get out! Ill do this myself if I have to. GO!” I yell at the servant girl who tried to cleanse and tend to the cuts on my face. “Ivar,  please let the servants tend to you. I still cannot believe that Arthur punched you in the face. Hehehe, you deserved it though, how could you question the paternity of his children and not expect him to want to kill you?” Bjorn laughs as he chugs the rest of his drink down. “Well, if you actually cared about your children and the heir to your throne, you’d also be quite upset to find a Christian King claiming to be their father. Those children are mine! And its pretty evident, just look at Marjorie. She's my spitting image.” I snarl at him as the anger begins to rise in me again. “Ivar, thats your mistake and why you’ll never get (y/n) back. You believe that everything should be yours. And that people are things you can govern over, but they're not. Because those are children. And yes they may be yours, but you cannot take away what they have known because you want to be selfish.” He says with a stern look on his face, whilst getting up from his chair and making his way to the door. “Now get ready and fix yourself we have a intimate dinner to attend to with MY sister and the love of your life.” Unbeknownst to us, there was Freydis on the balcony listening to our whole conversation. And little did I know that it would come to be the thing I regretted the most.

At the dinner I notice (y/n) sit on the opposite side of the table from Arthur. This wouldn't have affected me if it wasn't for the look on both of their faces. They seemed distraught and broken. Arthur masked it well, but (y/n) was an open book for all of us to know exactly how she felt at that moment. Not much talking happened, besides Marjorie and Erik shouting at each other on who was better at riding. They reminded me a lot of myself and all I wanted was to tell them the truth, that they were my children and that they would go back to Kattegat with me to learn about the true gods and not the fable that had been told to them about their so called ‘God’.” “(Y/n) are you alright, you do not seem quite like yourself tonight.” Bjorn states with a concerned look that we all share. Even Arthur looks a bit concerned, but his body language makes it seem as if he is alright and nothing is wrong. “Sarah, could you please put Marjorie and Erik to bed? Its getting late for them and they have their lessons early in the morning.” She says with a stern and cold look in her (e/c) eyes. “Su...sure your majesty. “ At that Bjorn stands up as if to accompany Sarah, but is quickly stopped by (y/n)’s icy glare and venomous words. “Sit your ass down.” At that we all look astonished, but Hvitserk only stares at her with sadness and what seems to be sympathy. He must know why she is like this then. 

Bjorn slowly sits back down on the table. A shocked look graces his face, as he cannot comprehend why she is acting this way towards her beloved older brother. “How long.” Is all she grits out through her teeth. “What do you mean, (y/n)?” My eyes meet Hvitserk’s own and the realization dawns upon me. She knows...

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Your POV

“Stop with the bullshit! I cannot take anyone else lying to me!” I scream as I bang my hands against the table, stunning everyone in sight. “How long did you know that Ragnar was not my father! How long have you kept the truth from me! How long have you known that Athelstan was my father!” I could careless about everyone staring at me as if I was a mad woman. I had been lied to my whole life. All I had known had been a lie, and the people who I trusted the most in this world had been the ones keeping it a secret from me. “(Y/N)... I..I’ve know since the moment you were born. But father had sworn me into secrecy and I could not break a promise. This doesn't change anything though. You are still my sister and you will always be.” Bjorn says in a haste as tries to come closer to me, but I step back and move as far back as I can. “Did you know? Tell me! Ivar did you know that we were not siblings!” Ivar didn't even have to answer. I knew from the look in his eyes that he too had been lying to me. 

“I knew.” Arthur says staring right at me. “I knew that you weren't his daughter and I knew that Ivar wasn't your brother. But I kept that information from you because all I wanted to do was have you by my side. I’m sorry, for the pain I have caused you (y/n). Im sorry for being selfish and not telling you the truth, but I now see that I was wrong and as of tomorrow you are free to go back to your country. I promise that your title and lands will not be taken from you or from the children. May they be mine or his. But I cannot go on with this facade anymore.” Arthur says in the most calm demeanour as he stands up and comes to me. “You hypocrite! How dare you make me feel like shit for harbouring feelings for Ivar when you knew all along and knew that my whole life was a lie.” I scream as I run at him and slap him across the face. But before I can get another punch in I feel a strong grip holding me from behind. From the shocks and the utter feeling in my stomach I knew it could have only been Ivar. As I try desperately to release from his vice grip, my whole world comes crashing down when Sarah enters the room. With blood all over her.

“Your highnesses...Erik.... he.. he..” She tries to say through her shock. “What! What is wrong with my son!” Ivar, Arthur and I scream at the same time. “He.. he’s dying!”

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We all simultaneously run after Sarah towards the doctors quarters. Ivar with his brace on, manages to run faster than all of us and busts the doors wide open. if I wasn't so worried about my son or upset about the fact they all knew Ragnar wasn't my father, I would've been impressed. “What are you doing! Get away from my son!” At that Ivar rushes towards the doctor who is bleeding Erik out. Grabbing him by the collar he slams the doctor on the wall and his sclera go into bluish hue, showing that he is in danger of breaking a bone. “Ivar stop it! Let the man go, he is just trying to help.” “Help my ass! I will not let you harm my son, do you understand me! I will not let you harm him!” At that Ivar lets the doctor go, but not without staring him down. And the doctor looking like he is about to shit himself. Rushing to Erik’s side I notice something strange. The colour of his skin is now fading and his eyes have bags under them. But what hits me the most is the memory of Uncle Rollo teaching me about poison. “He doesn't need to be bled, he needs medicine. He’s been poisoned...” 

“Mama! What is wrong with Erik! He will be okay right? He has to be okay!” Marjorie begins to say as she shakes with fear. Before Arthur or I could say something to console her, Ivar bends down and takes her hands in his. “Marjorie, listen to me. Your brother is a fighter and so are you. After all were related aren't we?” Ivar says as he lifts her chin. “Yes..I suppose that we are. Is it true what they say though? Are you our father?” At that Ivar turns to me looking towards me for permission. At this point I think to myself how hard it was to learn my whole life had been a lie and that I would not want that for my children, so I nod. “Yes, Marjorie I am your father. And no your mother is not my sister. It was something that we had to say because she needed to be kept safe.” He says ever so calmly. “Safe from who?”She questions “From my mother. Your grandmother.”

Cough*Cough* Spurts of blood cover me in seconds. My attention becomes focused in on my son again. “Where is the damn antidote! Please someone hurry!” At that Hvitserk runs into the room with a small green vial. “Here take this it should help him. Lagertha gave it to me before her and father left. Something about it would come in handy some day. Here.” Shoving the vial in my hands I open it quickly and lift Erik’s head. “Drink this Erik. It should help you, my darling. Please be strong, I know you're scared, but you’ll be alright ok. Everything will be ok.” I say through tears. Today had been the worst day by far. “Mira... please help my son. I know you're always with me, but please help me now. Pray for my son and ask God to save him.”

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A few hours had gone by and nobody had moved from the room. Arthur sat on the chair next to the bed with his elbows on his knees, looking straight and focused in on Erik. Bjorn and Hvitserk sat by the fireplace and were wetting some towels so that we could place them atop Eriks head. I sat on the bed next to my son and caressed his beautiful face hoping for a miracle. I had dismissed Sarah and told her to take Marjorie with her, but she would not budge. Sarah left, but Marjorie stayed and sat in Ivars lap asking him if Erik would pull through. Ivar was sweet to answer as best as he could, and I could tell that he truly cared for his children even if his demeanour wasn't the greatest. I knew that deep in my heart I would have to let him get to know them, but it still hurt especially knowing that he now was married. “Wait, where is Freydis? I haven't seen her since yesterday.” I say looking towards Ivar. “I dont know earthier to be honest, she's probably looking at some damn flowers anyway. Its best if she's far away anyway.” “Why would you say that about your wi-” “she's not my wife, at least not yet. Were not actually married, (y/n). I just said that to piss you off.” Taking a deep breath I go to stand up from the bed in order to fetch a bucket of water and some new cloths. Instead I end up on the floor cradling my belly, with a burning sensation in my chest and blood pouring out from my mouth. “(Y/n)! Mama!” I can hear the shouts around me. “Fetch the doctor! Now hurry!” The voices around me begin to fade and not before long I can feel myself drifting away.

“My baby... Save my baby...” And with that everything turns pitch black...