#i especially love the way he delivers ''it has been KILLING him... all this sneaking around''

[cerealbishh]

"This was never gonna last forever." // "But if there's even a chance at bringing her back, then it's worth it, right?"

🎥: @bikinibottomdayz

[davenweenie]

Lab Rats Headcanon’s

I don’t know if anyone has realised but I’m horrendously British so you’ll have to excuse some of my language if you’re American and don’t understand it. Also I am a massive Chase stan so most of these will be about him.

-I could go on about the Chase is Trans hc until the day I die. He just gives off major trans vibes and it’s canon in my head. lol.

-Spike is so odd to me. The fact that they can’t find a way to remove him form Chase’s chip is odd. On another note please give me DID Chase fic recs.

-Chase is really durable. Adam can literally carry tons of weight and punches Chase all the time, also throws him, and Chase is just, like fine?

-Adam feels really guilty when he gets older about how much he hurt Chase when they were kids/teenagers. The fact that his baby brother’s arms were covered in bruises so much that he could never wear short sleeves in fear of someone thinking he was being abused makes him feel terrible.

-however, Bionic Brother Tosses still happen. Adam just makes sure Chase has somewhere a bit softer to land when they see each other.

-Bree can pick Chase up like he weighs nothing. Just throws him over her shoulder. She could since they were kids and made sure they could all carry each other if they needed to (getting out of dangerous situations, especially if someone is unconscious)

-Adam and Bree still have nightmares about seeing Chase’s ‘dead’ body in Giselle’s lab.

-their necks are incredibly sensitive from where their chips are. Kaz thinks it’s funny to touch Chase’s all the time and surprises him all the time when he sneaks up from the back.

-this is way in the future but I think Perry cried at Kaz and Chase’s wedding. Also Skylar and Bree’s. She told everyone she had hayfever though.

-Perry was inconsolable when one of her cats died from liver failure and came knocking on the EF penthouse door in tears. Bree and Chase were terrified to see that woman cry. Of course they comforted her though.

-I don’t think bionic people can get pregnant. I feel like it would be super dangerous idk. Adding to this, Bree and Skylar wanted kids but it would have been too dangerous for them both to have children so they ended up fostering and adopting twins of a superhero that was killed by the shapeshifters (idk this one’s a work in progress)

-Kaz and Oliver go back to being doctors when Mighty Med is rebuilt. Kaz was so excited after delivering his first baby (idk, do they do that at that hospital, I still haven’t finished MM) and kept rambling about it to Chase over the phone. Oliver was passed out because he’s terrified of babies.

-Adam and Leo both smoke weed for sure. They’re stoner brothers. If Chase had been around when they started he would for sure also get high a lot (probably not by smoking it because he cares too much about his health. He’d probably eat it)

-Chase doesn’t get dizzy. Instead: he sees in pixels until it goes away. This only happens if he gets really dizzy though, like has spun around 100 times sort of dizzy. Otherwise he’s like a normal person.

-Adam loved My Little Pony when they were kids, he still watched it from time to time when he’s feeling sad. He also really liked watching Monster High with Bree.

-Adam is literally Mabel Pines from Gravity Falls reincarnated. Chase is absolutely like Dipper Pines which is the main reason he loved Gravity Falls when he was younger.

-people used to think Bree and Chase were twins only because they were so similar in height and build, as they’ve gotten older they’ve become easier to separate from each other.

-Tasha drives and Davenport is the passenger princess. I know Davenport can drive but he chooses not to if he doesn’t have to.

-Adam loves going on drives with his siblings, it’s perfect bonding time. They sing pop songs (usually Taylor Swift, Ariana Grande, Selena Gomez, Brittany Spears etc) at the top of their lungs while driving to get food.

-When Kaz and Chase move in together, the first thing Kaz does is get a red pickup truck. He told Chase that he got it so they could drive out of the city and go stargazing where the sky wasn’t polluted by light. (It’s giving Dante and Aristotle, I know)

-Chase’s first car was a Ford Fiesta which he got with his own money. He knew he could have asked Davenport for a car and he would have gotten a high tech, brand new car the next day but he wanted something that he had worked hard to get. He wanted visual proof that he could accomplish things on his own and saving up for a car had been one of them.

-There were many road trips in that small car. They drove to Hollywood a lot and often times climbed up to the Hollywood sign even though they knew it was trespassing. When Chase eventually had to get a new car because the Fiesta kept breaking down, he had cried. He felt stupid crying over a car but Kaz had assured him it was okay.

-they had made so many memories in that car and after being split up as a team, Chase clung onto it as if it would make him and his siblings a team again. It took a lot of willpower to sell it for parts. He kept the steering wheel, he wanted to keep one part to remember the amazing times in that little car.

-although Bree used to constantly talk about how she wished she didn’t have to be around her brothers, now that she only had Chase around she realised how much she missed them. As annoying and obnoxious her brothers could be, she missed them more than anything.

-the reunion after being split up was a tearjerker, Douglas had sobbed into Otis (the dog, who Adam had kept after Chase moved out of the island) and then denied it ever happened.

Anywho, that’s all, luvs. I’m posting a lot because it’s my day off and I don’t feel completely exhausted anymore. Hopefully I’ll get back to posting more regularly now that my brain can function agains.

[lya-dustin]

Someone will remember us

Epilogue

Friends, Romans, countrymen, it has been a ride and we are finally at the last chapter of this 133,316 word behemoth that i began on October 2022.

I love you all, especially those who have done more than simply give it a like.

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @darylandbethfanforever9 @arrthurpendragon @stargaryenx @fyeahhotdocs @ocappreciationtag

Gif by @pistil-whipped

On the first day of the year one hundred thirty and one after the conquest, Aemma Velaryon takes the Iron Throne as Queen Aemma Targaryen in accordance with the late Viserys Targaryen’s wishes.

On the Seventh Day of the Seventh Month, Aemma Targaryen and her husband are crowned King and Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Lord and Lady of the Six Kingdoms and Protectors of the Realm.

And from that day on, absolute primogeniture would be followed by House Targaryen and those who wished to follow it’s example.

No lord or lady would be forced to change their wills, but if anyone had any qualms with people naming their firstborn daughters their heirs, they were told to take it up with the Bronze Fury and the Silver Queen.

Aemon had been only a nameday old when that had happened.

He had been six when the first snowdrops had bloomed signifying the end of winter and now that the first signs of summer have begun to appear, another five years had passed.

Now he was ten, with his own dragon, the Nightsky, the Black Dread reborn.

His younger sister, Aenya, was nine and had Vēzos, or Sunny, a golden dragon like Syrax and Sunfyre.

Aenor had Greysmoke, but he could not ride him yet because the dragon only hatched when he was three and he was only six namedays old.

Three year old Aelaena and Aelyx both had to share an egg in their cradle because Silverwing has not had a clutch of eggs since the war ended but kepa said they were more ways to claim a dragon.

Sheepstealer had delivered a clutch on Dragonstone recently, but those Lady Nettles said were not worth losing a limb over because her brown dragon had not had a mate since Caraxes died.

Like chicken eggs that don’t have chicks in them because there was no rooster involved, or so kepa had explained.

They could claim a wild one, like the Cannibal, or one of the dragons that hatched from Strax’s last clutch that refused to become castle dragons.

But all the dragons had to be kept in the new Dragonpit because Uncle Aeg hates dragons for what Sunfyre did to Grandmother Rhaenyra and her ladies.

His friend Gaemon Palehair had given up his own egg to his half-sister, Cousin Jaehaera, for safe keeping and it is said no dragon egg has hatched in Dragonstone because it knows he will live there with Lady Daenaera.

Aegon is six and ten and Daenaera, daughter of mother’s cousin Daeron Velaryon, is five and ten.

They are to wed here and live over there because High Tide is filled to the brim with Aunt Baela and Aunt Rhaena’s families and their dragons.

Aunt Rhaena had two daughters and a baby son, Aunt Baela had a daughter and two sons and between the eight of them there were three dragons.

They would be coming to the wedding and wait for Nuncle Alyn here.

Nuncle Alyn had gone to Essos in search for adventure after taking the Stepstones for the Iron Throne.

He had a surprise, his last raven had said. He had been in Lys then.

“Even if he is my brother, those damn Rogares ask for too much.” Mother says as she paced, big with child again, to her stepsisters and sister by marriage.

He wasn’t supposed to be sneaking around, but Aemon has been dying to know what this surprise was.

What did she mean by brother?

All her brothers were dead save for Aeg.

Jacaerys had died bravely fighting the Triarchy during the Battle of the Gullet, Lucerys had died over Storm’s End when Vhagar went mad and attacked him, and Joffrey had been killed during the Riot by Syrax on accident.

Viserys had been killed by pirates after he was taken and his body dumped into the ocean.

Was there another secret brother like Alyn and Addam the Loyal?

Would he look like her and Alyn or look like Aegon and Aemon’s father, Aemond?

So many questions that they won’t answer if he dared to ask.

“Aemon, what have we told you about eavesdropping?” his father sighed tiredly from behind him.

“Not to get caught.” The boy says with a cheeky grin hoping his kepa is in a good mood.

“If you go to your rooms and stay there I won’t tell your mother you were here, little king.” His father flicks him on the forehead as they walked away from the door.

“Is Nuncle Alyn really bringing mama one of her brothers?” he asked his father who had not even put in his false eye to take him back ti his room.

“I don’t know, if he is, then let us hope it will be a good wedding gift for Aeg. Gods know your uncle would be happiest to see him.” His father answered and ruffled his thick white curls affectionately before telling his guards to keep an eye on him.

Viserys.

Could it really be Viserys Targaryen?

A/N: now that you've finished the fic, have you considered telling me your thoughts about it?

[sidecharactersdomatter]

This gets rambly but I swear it's relevant to your Disenchanted rewrite. Disenchanted was not a good follow-up to the first film. It just lacked the magic the original film had and did their characters a disservice. This is why I'm always wary when I hear a sequel is being made because I have to ask "Are they expanding on any plots or arcs that were present in the first film in any meaningful way" and if not then it's probably gonna be some unnecessary additions and a poorly executed story. Which is upsetting because it can and has been done well in the hands of writers who know and care about their characters. So I guess what I'm trying to ask is what are some story elements from Enchanted you are hoping to elaborate or improve on in your rewrite?

No I don’t think you ask is rambly at all. The reason I’m writing The fairytale of my life is because I was so pissed off by how Out of character Giselle, Robert, and Morgan were portrayed in the sequel I felt like metaphorically vomiting and got rid of my Disney plus app. Since Disenchanted was released on Plus and the sneak peek clips on YouTube ended up killing the hype, this move never stood a chance with the Rotten Tomatoes critics, by offending the audience who grew up watching the first movie and accomplishing absolutely nothing. Nobody on the writing team understood the assignment, and when it was announced that Kevin Lima wasn’t going to work on the sequel, that’s when you know something’s gonna go wrong. You’ll definitely see me type ‘Nothing happens’ when I answer more questions on why Disenchanted and as my break down my to do list.

A few elements that I will improve on in my rewrite are:

Adding a sense of realism, to make the story and characters feel grounded and relatable. Disenchanted completely tossed out their realism and it ended up getting overweighted by the Fantasy aspect like an unbalanced measuring scale. That’s why Tftoml is fully operating on Studio Ghibli logic since it’s films are masters at weaving in realism.

Keeping the main cast consistent, especially Morgan, Robert, and Giselle. That’s why I changed Morgan’s character entirely to make her the main protagonist of my fic to make her more likable since her portrayal in Disenchanted offended and disappointed a lot of teen viewers. It’s a good thing I gave 6 year old Sofie a purpose in my fic as well and her personality is supposed to be a blend of her parents. Robert also ends up acting like a better parent in Tftoml since I gave him a more better character arc, related to his place in his family, since the whole ‘middle aged dad gets a mid life crisis’ is a cliche trope that has been done to death in animation. Spoilers for Tftoml, he doesn’t commute to work but he got transferred to work in his new hometown. Giselle’s character also gets drastically changed since she’s the deuteragonist of Tftoml because Oh my God she suffered from main character syndrome and flanderization from completely forgetting her development in the first film. Spoilers for tftoml She doesn’t want to have the whole dumb ‘fairy tale life’ but her goal is actually related to her new family, trying to be a good mother, a theme the sequel failed to deliver is that “family isn’t defined through blood, but through love” and that’s a message I’m using for my fic.

Finally having the main theme of Emotional maturity. Giselle especially learned this in Enchanted when went from being a Disney Princess archetype to a multi dimensional humanized character. This is a theme that I’m going to have Morgan learn, since unlike the sequel, The fairytale of my life is going to be a Coming of age. A few main lessons I’m going to try and show are, Not every family is going to be perfect, (you all don’t know that the Philips are functional in my fic right now) Not every parent is going to be perfect, not every mother is going to be perfect (Giselle is going to be a good example of this in Tftoml) and the then of accepting change. Some serious topics that will be shown are Childhood trauma, Low self worth/esteem (Both will definitely be shown through Morgan) Toxic femininity and positivity (Which Giselle will embody in my fic), dysfunctional family relationships, and accepting your loved ones for who they are. I’m trying so hard to not be too ambitious.

That’s all I got for an answer and I’m going to stop answering any asks for my fic right now since I’m going to be busy at the start of this month working on chapters 2-3 and I promise I’ll update next post.

[floralembarrassment]

Pretty Boy Potter (1/1) (jegulus)

"Just admit you want to go!" Barty and Evan nearly yelled in unison.

"I really think I'd rather drown." Regulus' deadpanned. It lasted only a second before the matching glint in Barty and Evan's eyes made all three of them burst into laughter.

"Yeah and my dad is the best guy I've ever met," Barty breathed out through the howls of laughter.

"Reggie baby, everyone can see that you are desperately head over heels in love with him. You fucking swoon when that boy does nothing but breath." Evan heckled. It was the truth, and Regulus would never admit it but he appreciated that soft mocking tone Evan used to deliver it. He was also the only one who could get away with calling him "Reggie" and "baby" in the same breath without being hexed.

"Ugghhh!" Regulus flopped backwards onto the bed. "I'm fucked." He whispered to a god he didn't believe in.

"Big time." Barty smirked and knocked their knees together.

"Listen it's like I said. There's no way that was a prank. His posse was nowhere near him and he looked like he was going to vomit. He has been chasing you around all year. Just go with him to Hogsmead like one of the many girls floundering over that assh-" Barty was cackling even as Regulus cut him off.

"He's not an asshole. But do you think he actually likes me." Despite his best efforts, the last bit came out quiet and nearly desperate.

"Regulus you are so fucking dim sometimes! He literally asked you in a date!" Evan was hitting him now. "That" smack, "means" smack, "he" smack, "wants you!" Smack smack.

"Okay okay enough!" Regulus said.

Barty's face softened, "Look, we know you don't want to be hurt, alright. But I can't listen to you mop about Potter anymore especially since you have the chance to be happy. And besides if he tried anything, and I mean ANYTHING, we'd use an unforgivable so fast." Regulus raised eyebrows, but he knew Barty was serious.

"Bartemius... just don't kill him." Was Regulus' only attempt at warning. The trio burst into laughter again. "So when you sneak out tonight you'll tell him yes?" Evan asked hopefully. "Oh sweetie you don't think you're that sly do you?" Evan responded to Regulus' semi-shocked expression at their knowledge of his nightly walks. He thought they were always dead asleep when he left.

"Okay okay. Yes I'll tell him yes tonight. He always seems to know where I am so he'll find me I'm sure." Regulus muttered his response but he couldn't keep the smile from sneaking onto his lips.

"Pretty boy Potter and Porcelain Black. The new Hogwarts celebrity couple." This time it was Regulus' turn to swat Evan.

[zazu75]

Gilderguste is my favorite CotC ship

Gilderoy is my chosen. Auguste is an immediate fave. No, canon doesn’t exist. I write my own. And I will fix it. This is self indulgent. Mildly spicy. and after this? y’all will likely suffer more. :3

So Gilderoy works with nobility, this means that he has some knowledge of the arts, whether that’s actual art, poetry, novels, plays… the Arts (™). 

It helps him connect with clients and keep their interest for longer. Which means more business! It’s a win win. So it’s not so much of a hobby as something he does for work. Still, he enjoys it. 

He hears a lot about this one playwright. Everyone loves his works. Especially the people in the flatlands. So when he’s in Theateropolis, he hears about a play happening and decides to try and see it. 

So Gilderoy gets to the theater, there’s no one guarding the doors so he kinda. Sneak in.

Gilderoy catches the end of the play, and when Auguste comes out to take a bow, the ring flashes, so he heads out to wait and see if he can grab a client or two, especially one of the actors/actresses. Maybe even some nobility. Either way, looking for business. 

The audience start to leave, and a group of ladies gather round the door to try and catch a glimpse of the actors and actresses leaving, fawning all the while

And just their luck, Auguste comes out too! And they are fangirling so hard and he’s being so nice. 

Anyways he spots Gilderoy off the side and immediately starts flirting with him and Gilderoy flirts back. 

And Auguste leans in and they keep flirting (keep in mind everyone around them is watching) and the two of them agree to meet later at a room Auguste gives Gilderoy directions to.

And they absolutely go at it. And talk. And go at it again and talk. They're there for several hours. And Gilderoy actually makes a sale two Auguste. Two necklaces, one of which is a locket. 

And Gilderoy leaves with a bruised and maybe bloody bite mark at the junction where his neck meets his shoulder. 

And it spreads like wildfire in the rumor mill. 

A noble lady comes at Gilderoy the next day, insisting he deliver the letter to Auguste (it’s a fan letter). 

And honestly at this point Gilderoy is like “sure. I’ll deliver it. Maybe see him again ;)” because he had fun. He likes Auguste more than just a client. He’s fun to be around. 

He gets to the theater, and it’s a slow day, no plays are happening, so he makes his way to the backstage area and again, there’s no one to stop him. 

But then a man stops him and tells him it’s a bad idea to try and see Auguste.

This man’s name is Schwartz, and he is after revenge!

He tells Gilderoy that Auguste is a killer, and that he’s killed many of his fans and understudies and workers, and says that Auguste killed his wife, and that he has been seeking revenge for a very long time. 

Gilderoy insists on going to see Auguste anyway, and Schwartz accompanies him because danger!! 

Now, on screen, almost immediately, the player is shown Auguste killing an actress in front of other actors, who don’t react. 

Gilderoy, however, doesn’t walk in until the lady is being carried out, eyes closed, between two actors who, again, aren’t acting like anyone’s dead. 

And Schwartz is quick to point out it was murder, and that Auguste can get away with it because his workers worship him as a god. Because he’s so damnably famous.

But Gilderoy kind of. He didn’t see a body being carried out. He saw a lady who was out cold and saw no wounds on her.

By the time that conversation is done, Auguste has left the stage to his study.

So they chase him. 

We get there first. And Schwartz starts rummaging thru the desk and papers

Auguste arrives soon after, covered in blood. Recognizes Schwartz and they talk and it turns out, Auguste kills for inspiration. It helps him get ideas and be able to write it down.

Auguste sics some guards on Schwartz and leaves, giving absolutely no glances towards Gilderoy. 

But Gilderoy helps out in the fight because he was in the way and has no choice. 

After, they can’t find Auguste anywhere, and they part ways, Schwartz still swearing revenge. 

A few weeks/months pass, and Gilderoy has gone off to do other things and look for the other rings. He still can’t get Auguste out of his head tho. Because…. well. He has a ring. And murder is bad. And also… he’s handsome. 

He stumbles upon Schwartz in a tavern in Valore getting food and drinks and talks to him. 

Schwartz has found out where Auguste lives. It’s a big villa right outside the city, And asks if Gilderoy will join him.

Gilderoy realizes he still has the letter from the noble lady who harassed him ages ago, and he decides that yeah, he wants to come. He wants to try and talk with Auguste. He still remembers the last meeting in the study and how Auguste ignored him, after they’d clicked so well the day before. And he’s not stupid, something’s up. 

And during his travels he learned that the rings also influence their holders. So maybe… maybe the ring had some sort of influence over Auguste. He wants to know more. To either put his mind at rest or…. Try something probably stupid. He wants to find out what’s what. 

Especially since he has met with the lead actress before (Fransesca), while looking for the study, and she mentioned that Auguste isn’t interested in the fame his plays bring, yet he keeps working on them. 

So he wants to try and talk. And the letter is as good an excuse as any. 

They go to the villa and find Francesca outside with a kid.

Kid’s name is Mikhail! He’s a ray of sunshine—and he’s Francesca’s and Auguste’s kid!

Awkward moment ensues for Gilderoy in “I didn’t know he was married” but she replies with “he’s not” “oh.”

(The game is very unclear about whether they’re married or even together, tho art doodled by Mikhail shows at least a happy-ish family. So I’m going with together but it’s rocky af)

Fransesca locks them outside of the mansion, telling them to leave, and they don’t, because Schwartz is set on finding a key, and sees an abandoned house/shed near the villa and decides to search there. 

Inside, they find the keys with a diary detailing a few killings Auguste has done.

Gilderoy finds this kind of sus, because while the building does belong to the villa, it’s 1) abandoned 2) there’s no blood anywhere 3) the rest of the journal is pretty empty and there’s just it and the keys there. 

But they get the keys and go inside and they find Fransesca desperately searching for her son, who’s been told to avoid the “purple man”

Which Gilderoy finds contradictory while they’re looking for him. Because Auguste wears purple, a lot of it, and there’s drawings Mikhail did of him and Fransesca and Auguste as a family. And even some that are just him and Auguste, all in purple. 

He doesn’t get to ask however. The three find the kid soon after, and he’s been poisoned by Auguste. And Auguste takes the rest of the poison. Turns out, Fransesca has a dose of the antidote on her, inside the locket necklace she was given a day prior… the one Gilderoy recognizes he sold Auguste. 

… And she can only choose to save one of them. 

Schwartz is stricken. Horrified. He begs her to save her son, but it just makes her indecision worse, and Gilderoy is trying to calm this lady down and make Schwartz shut up to no avail. 

In the end, Francesca chooses Auguste, who, surprise! Has a second dose of the antidote. Which he takes. And then says he’s been inspired to finish his current work and leaves.

Schwartz tries to get Fransesca to give Mikhail the antidote after, as he’s still alive, but she snaps

And tries to outright kill her kid and the two men

And Gilderoy is forced to kill her to save her child. They do manage to save him, but Fransesca is dead and the kid was aware during all of what went down. 

They take the kid to a healer, and once they’re sure he’s okay, Schwartz says he’ll use his contacts to find him a new home. 

Gilderoy goes to the tavern, mostly to get drunk and maybe eat and process wtf has happened.

Because it was jarring, but so much of it didn’t make sense.

As Gilderoy sits there, drinking, Schwartz shows up and joins him. 

They talk a bit about what happened, and it segues into Schwartz asking Gilderoy about why he was there at the theater to start with, and Gilderoy explains about the letter, then how he got the letter, and Schwartz is in such disbelief because you slept with that man?? and Gilderoy is just look he's hot and he flirted with me first okay

And it goes on a bit more and Schwartz is basically teasing him at this point and Gilderoy picks up on it and is embarrassed and kinda grumbles that Schwartz isn't as focused on his grief as he makes himself out to be.

Schwartz makes it very clear that he is still grieving but he is not blind and Gilderoy is good looking and tucks a strand of hair behind Gilderoy’s ear. 

Gilderoy is speechless for all of ten seconds before he decides, yeah, okay, why not. Schwartz teases him about it, and they flirt a bit then go back to the inn to get a room. 

And it's during their time being intimate in there that Gilderoy realizes that.... Schwartz and Auguste are... very similar, physically. Under the clothes, their body types, their skin color, their... everything, is very similar.

He decides he is not sober enough to process this and to enjoy it instead.

After, he and Schwartz talk. First it’s a little bit of flirting, then it gets serious. Schwartz wants to go back and make sure Fransesca’s body is buried. And see if there’s anyone else dead and bury them. Gilderoy agrees to help. 

So the next day, they go back to the villa. And Fransesca’s body is as it is. They also find the maid who died of poisoning, still where she is. So they work on burying both. It’s a silent, sad affair. They work quietly, though Schwartz looks like he’s about to cry more than once. Gilderoy sits with him and they hold hands a few times and it seems to help Schwartz. And when he gives Gilderoy a grateful smile… well. Gilderoy gives him one back while actively trying not to blush. 

They go back to Valore, after, get drinks, kiss, and wind up in bed together again. 

Gilderoy again notes the similarities and decided not to pay any attention to them and stay in the moment instead. 

Next day, Schwartz tells Gilderoy he's heading back to the theater to try and find a way to get to Auguste. He'd be very hard to get close to, right now, buried in work. But the premiere of the new play has a date set already, a date he gives to Gilderoy and says to meet him there.

Gilderoy in the meantime starts to really think things through, because a lot of what he saw contradicted so much?

and he... finds himself in the worst situation ever. 

For starters, he finds himself pining.

Which freaks him tf out at first because he does not fall in love?? hello?? 

And it sucks. He doesn’t like the longing. And he’s longing for a murderer. Except he’s still not sure. Because the murder he saw doesn’t match with the murders he read about. And the lady’s reaction and fear over her child being lost in his own home makes no sense. 

There’s too much that doesn’t make sense, and he’s not sure how to put it together. 

And then there’s Schwartz. The man after revenge. The man he’s also longing for. And their similarities! 

It’s driving him crazy. 

So he does something crazy. 

He goes back to Auguste’s villa. 

It’s weeks later, now, and the villa has been abandoned for almost that entire time. Monsters are starting to take over, but there’s human activity too. 

Gilderoy walks around aimlessly. It’s a sunny afternoon and he’s wandering and not sure what he’s looking for. He just wants answers. And finds himself in Fransesca’s and Mikhail’s room, looking at the drawings. 

He takes one down, a hand drawn family portrait, carefully folds it and pockets it. 

Maybe… maybe he can give it to Auguste later. Or Schwartz. Or maybe even Mikhail himself. 

The sun sinks low on the horizon when he decides he’s not going to find answers and goes to leave. But he decides to stop by Auguste’s office, because maybe he’ll find something. He remembers a lot of papers there. So he heads there and—

—There's someone there. The silhouette is familiar. And his heart goes to his throat. It’s Auguste. 

And he’s both really happy and really terrified. Because did he find the man he charmed or the monster Schwartz showed him?

And something about that thought makes him blink. That’s right, all the bad things he’s seen were when Schwartz was around…

But he decides to ignore that for now and instead approaches the man. 

There’s a somber mood about him. A haunted look in his eyes. He’s soft spoken and charming and Gilderoy is not afraid. 

He moves closer. They talk. Or well, he tries to. Auguste isn’t very willing to discuss anything. So he’s not surprised when the playwright kisses him. 

He goes along with it. Because he wants it so badly. Because pining sucks and his heart hurts and this is so much easier. 

He goes along with Auguste pushing him into a bed and goes along with everything after, until they’re both spent and it’s dark out and it’s dark inside and it’s silent, just them breathing in the darkness. 

Gilderoy pulls Auguste close and Auguste presses his face over his heart and it’s everything Gilderoy has wanted for the last few weeks. 

They’re falling asleep when Gilderoy decides to ask, in a whisper, what happened with Mikhail. Auguste answers. It’s an answer that Schwartz would know, not Auguste. And Auguste seems to catch himself and tenses. But Gilderoy whispers that they’re already asleep and it’s okay and he knows Auguste doesn’t believe him but the walls come down for a while and they talk naturally. But they’re both sleepy and fall asleep. 

The next morning, Gilderoy wakes up alone. And he’s back to pining. 

It sucks. 

And he still doesn’t understand everything, or how to connect it together. 

So he goes back to working on getting the rings and gathering information and trying to do his job as a jewelry merchant, until the date of the premiere comes, and he goes to meet up with Schwartz and realizes he's still crushing on Schwartz and since when did he crush on people? ever?

but they sneak in through the theater's back door, and the play is starting, and they need to stop the man before he kills again. Schwartz seems especially desperate, probably because he's so close to his goal of revenge.

But Gilderoy grabs his hand and tells him that he won't help unless he promises him something. Schwartz asks what, and Gilderoy says he wants the opportunity to talk to Auguste. Even if they wind up having to kill him, he wants to be able to talk to him first.

Schwartz reluctantly agrees, and off they go.

They can hear the play going on as they make their way through the back to the theater to the study. They find him there, in his chair. Gilderoy tries to talk to him, but he's ignored. So Schwartz attempts to taunt the man before he attacks him 

Only for the body to hit the floor. It's not the real Auguste, but the theater manager dressed up as him. 

And it all falls in place for Gilderoy.

He figures it out.

But before he can say a word to Schwartz, the man has already rushed out. They can hear "Auguste"' voice from the stage, and they decide to make their way there.

They arrive at the finale, right as the lead actor "Auguste" is asking if a hateful blade would kill him. 

Schwartz gives Gilderoy no chance to talk and attacks the man. A fight ensues on stage, until the actor is stabbed fatally. He stays a few more lines then collapses, dead... and the audience claps, thinking it's all part of the play, and the curtains fall.

Gilderoy takes a deep breath, then, to calm himself. Turns to Schwartz and asks him if he's content now, that his play has ended. 

Schwartz's eyes widen, a pleased look comes onto his face, and he asks when he figured it out.

Gilderoy explains all the indiscrepancies he found, and how it all came together just a bit ago, and follows it with asking if they can talk now.

They talk, and Gilderoy is right, he can see beyond just what the ring is, and the person inside isn't what he's seeing, but the only way to free that person is to take the ring away, which isn't going to happen in a peaceful way.

So he talks to the entity instead, the thing that's acting in the human's place, and hears its woes and its need for blood for inspiration, and Gilderoy knows that inspiration comes in many forms, and one such form can easily be travel.

He points out that Auguste has rarely left the region, and never far, that there's so much beyond that, and he's willing to stake his life on finding a new source of inspiration for the playwright.

Enticed by the option of murdering Gilderoy, they talk more of it and make a deal, if Auguste doesn't find three new stories within a year on the road, he can kill Gilderoy and return to write that play.

So it's arranged. He takes a haitus and goes undercover to travel with the merchant, dressing down in more sensible colors for leather, and losing all of the makeup. And within weeks, he's already found a new story. He writes lots, goes through lots of paper, and gets along well with Gilderoy.

And Gilderoy keeps looking past the entity and to the human, to where the human learns to accept the demon that's inside of him. It's an extreme of his emotions, things that he had shamed himself for, and he comes to terms with it, which is something he's never done had before. 

To the point that, when Gilderoy gets the other two rings, and Sazantos comes to Gilderoy asking for the three rings to seal them, the entity possessing the human willingly gives the ring up.

This essentially kills the entity, or at least lays it dormant, and for the first time in a very, very long time, the human is free.

But the possession did leave its mark on him. He's not as unhinged as the entity was, and he doesn't have the same amount of bloodlust, but he is definitely more stabby than your average person. 

He’s a stepford smiler who Gilderoy learns to read, definitely thinks of murder as the first solution to most problems, and he's still an excellent playwright and actor.

He's also very clingy and overly affectionate to Gilderoy, who finds that he really, really likes it.

Gilderoy finds that he likes having his affections returned and likes the excess hugging and hand holding and even kissing in public, which--scandalous!

But he loves Auguste, even though he skirts around it and deflects the topic if/when asked directly. 

And Auguste… he’s not sure if Auguste feels the same way. But he has his affections, so he’s happy. 

And after that I've essentially gone with "this feral, semi-violent, stepford smiler version of Auguste joins the party in trying to get the rings back!"

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hi! It's an au twilight question.

What if Edward and Bella did the nasty in early New moon. Then the party happens and the Cullens leave. Bella discovers she's pregnant with Renesmee. What do you think what would happen?

A very interesting question, anon. One that will go very interesting places, I'm sure.

That said, as usual, because I'm a completionist, we have to go through the "why no canon?" routine. Bear with me, I simply must.

Why Didn't Edward and Bella Do the Nasty Pre-Breaking Dawn?

For all that Edward is, for all his... questionable morals and sexual fixations, he does have a moral code he strictly holds himself to.

Edward is adamantly against having sex with Bella in terror of the very real possibility that he will murder her in the act. He's very clear about this, he didn't think he could do it, at all, and only his sheer desperation that Bella never be turned, his desire to marry Bella, as well as Alice's thumbs up convinced him to do it.

If Bella was a reasonable person then she would have agreed as well. Sex with Edward, while she's human, is a bad idea. However, Bella never really seems to clue in on what vampires even are so I think the Man of Steel on Woman of Kleenex aspect is lost on her.

Had Alice not given the green light, I imagine Edward would have gone back to the drawing board and ended up either here or here. Bella turning is the worst possible outcome and Edward will risk almost anything, even Bella's death, to see it avoided.

But that doesn't mean it's an action he takes lightly.

He suggests pimping Bella out to Jake before he suggests sleeping with her himself. For Edward, this is a last resort.

More, Edward is a man of his time.

Edward was from an upper class family and, more to the point, still holds himself to the standards of the society he knew when human (much to Bella's amusement).

Edward wistfully talks about courting Bella, how he would have courted her had he been a true man in the time period he was familiar with, and why marriage to him is so very important.

That Edward doesn't seek out the approval of Charlie, Bella's father, is a hilarious aside to me. Edward's all about chivalry until all those old society standards get in his way.

What do you mean a gentleman doesn't sneak into a lady's apartments in the middle of the night to watch her slumber unawares?!

Regardless, marriage is extremely important to Edward, especially in the context of sex.

Edward will absolutely not have sex with a woman who is not first his wife. He also will not marry a girl that society defines as underage, he will wait until Bella's legal and probably until she finishes her primary schooling.

This means Edward was never likely to have sex with her before graduation and certainly not before her eighteenth birthday.

Which, at the earliest, puts her past the New Moon birthday bash.

Edward and Bella Do the Do Anyway

But let's pretend they do it anyway.

I'd say the most likely scenario is after the birthday disaster. This is it, Edward knows he is leaving Bella forever, if he is truly noble then he will never see her again.

Certainly, he will never interact with her nor hold her in his arms. To Edward, this is essentially his last true night on Earth.

So rather than pull a partial D.E.N.N.I.S. system, Edward pulls the full D.E.N.N.I.S. system, he initiates the "I" he was previously missing, "Inspire Hope". Or, in this case, get laid for the first and only time in his life.

He sneaks in through her window. They make beautiful, passionate, tepid love so Edward does not crush her in the act, and as she sleeps blissfully in the aftermath he sneaks back out the window to never be seen again.

(It takes Bella a week to admit that Edward just hit and run. The Cullens aren't coming back.)

However, because Edward didn't actually point blank tell her what was happening, rather than hit her New Moon stage of depression, Bella's instead in denial.

The Cullens are coming back. What, Carlisle has a new job? No, that can't be right, they're coming back. Alice would never leave her without a word. Edward would never leave her without a word.

Jessica pats Bella on the back consolingly and is secretly glad that it's not her. She might have been dumped by Edward Cullen, but at least he didn't humiliate her the way he did Bella Swan.

Leaving without a single word, yikes.

Two weeks go by then Bella gets the flu.

In a single day, she's unable to keep down anything. Huh, that's weird. Very quickly, Bella has her tampon epiphany. Bella is not a virgin, she had sex with Edward, she's late, and she appears to have a baby bump.

Bella is carrying Edward's child.

There is no question of aborting the child. This is Edward's child, the only piece she has left of him, even without Renesmee's gift it's ride or die. Bella is delivering this child even if it kills her.

However, she has some immediate issues.

First, she's visibly pregnant, it's been only two weeks. That's not supposed to happen. More, Charlie is bound to notice sooner rather than later, Bella would like to avoid that, the stigma of teen pregnancy, as well as the inhuman complications that are sure to come along.

Second, there's inhuman complications. Bella can't just go to an OBGYN, not even a town over. She's carrying something half human, a doctor will poke around and find that out, and then Bella's blowing the secret.

Bella knows vaguely of the Volturi at this point, but not the severity of the law, it's more that she promised Edward she would never tell a soul.

Plus, a human doctor wouldn't be able to help anyway.

That leaves vampires.

Bella tries to call/email the Cullens. However, thanks to Edward, all their numbers are disconnected and all their emails no longer exist. Her "Alice, help, I'm pregannant" messages are sent to a void.

(Alice, meanwhile, thinks she's finally successful in blocking visions of Bella. At least Edward will be off her back. Without the cliff diving and Jake, Alice does not assume Bella has died/committed suicide.)

A brief internet survey also yields Bella no results, but it does get her a lot of vampire porn. Thanks internet.

Bella... starts to get worried.

She's getting more and more pregnant in a matter of days, Charlie is starting to notice that she can't keep anything down, and the Cullens aren't taking her phone calls.

Then, Bella has it, she remembers that weird baroque painting Carlisle had of him and those Italian vampire dudes: the Volturi. Conveniently named after the city they live in, Volterra, Italy.

Bella debates her options.

Edward told her that these are the guys who make sure that humans who know the secret disappear. Well, Bella is a human who knows the secret, that's bad. Also bad is that they eat people, Bella is a person.

On the other hand, Edward implied these guys are civilized and friends of Carlisle. That's... good? Bella isn't sure she's on good terms with the Cullens, given the whole abrupt leaving thing, but maybe they don't have to know that.

Bella debates with herself, tries to look up the Denali, and only finds the National Park. She has no idea where these guys even live, or what they even look like besides "blonde hot vampire", and she's short on time. Plus, they are close with the Cullens, so the Cullens probably did tell them "Ew, Bella, No Gross, Do Not Want".

Because the Cullens all hate her now.

Bella has some money saved up, and this is probably a one way trip, and if she doesn't go then... well, it's not looking good. Bella musters up her courage, tells Charlie some outrageous fib to explain why she's disappearing off the face of the planet, and books a flight to Rome, then Pisa, then a bus ride to Volterra.

Bella subsists completely on blue gateorade, this doesn't go well, and she vomits blue in the parking lot.

Regardless, she makes it, huzzah she is in Volterra. It's sunny out and there are no vampires. Bella wanders around the city and looks for the most vampire building she can find.

Luckily, she happens to be right, and it's the very central castle. Well done, Bella.

Bella walks in and spots a vampire. She also spots a receptionist, Bella is very confused. Never the less, Bella says the magic words, "I'm a... friend of Carlisle Cullen?"

Even though Bella doesn't have Aro's name (or any of the other Volturi for that matter), Carlisle's name does the trick. Anyone who works for Aro knows that name.

Color Aro intrigued, he will meet this pregnant woman! (Caius, meanwhile, votes that they eat her immediately out of spite.)

Well, Aro touches her hand and lo and behold she's scarily gifted. And she knows Carlisle, what a great day to be Aro.

Aro explains that everything's totally fine with her knowing the secret, it just means they have to turn her eventually, after she gives birth of course.

Bella stares at him numbly and wonders why Edward made this such a big deal if it was that easy.

Aro insists Bella start from the beginning, as in the very beginning of her life. This is weird, but Bella complies.

An hour later they get to the interesting part: Bella meets Carlisle (and Edward Cullen, Aro guesses). Aro gets to hear the whole, sordid, ridiculous tale of Bella and Edward's romance including the part where he fucked her and ran off into the night.

Aro is stunned.

He first apologizes for the Cullens behavior, they should absolutely not have abandoned her, and not turning her was completely irresponsible (what the hell was Carlisle thinking?)

He then gives the bad news, he... has never heard of anything like this.

You see, normal vampires don't have sex with humans. It isn't done.

Also, there's this thing called Immortal Children (Edward tell you about that, no? Well, he probably thought it wasn't relevant). That thing your carrying might not be a child capable of growth but an insatiable monster.

Or it could be the alien from Aliens.

There's no way to tell, really.

BUT NO NEED TO WORRY, BELLA, THEY WILL FIGURE THIS OUT.

Aro promises Bella his protection and a period of observation for the child. Bella's not sure she likes that observation part, but this seems like a pretty sweet deal otherwise.

As for what to do, well, Aro has to call in the foremost vampire medical expert. Sorry, Bella, but there's only one man for the job.

Aro sends out Demetri to find Carlisle.

Demetri shows up on Carlisle's doorstep, "Carlisle, old friend, Aro has need of you. Your son knocked up a human girl."

Carlisle blinks, blinks again, then does a thousand yard stare. My God.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Edward is already on Victoria's tail. Carlisle tries to call him, to no avail, Edward isn't taking his phone calls.

Alice and Jasper are already on their trip to hunt down Alice's past. Plus, given the Volturi, they'd be unlikely to come anyway. Carlisle sends them a message.

Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett travel to Volterra to clean up Edward's mess.

And sure enough, there's Bella, very pregnant with a child that is very much not human. Carlisle dies inside, Rosalie's on a warpath that Edward would abandon his pregnant girlfriend to the point where the only place she could turn was human drinking vampires.

Rosalie takes it upon herself to leave Edward the world's angriest voice messages until he returns her phone calls.

Aro's delighted to see Carlisle again. Even if he does have a wife now. Also, Aro claims finders keepers for Bella, Carlisle's not happy about this and less happy that Aro points out that if Edward cared so much he wouldn't be absent right now, would he?

They figure out the blood drinking thing, Carlisle desperately raids a hospital to prevent Bella from being fed the leftovers of the Volturi victims. This likely doesn't work out for him.

At the last possible moment, Edward finally picks up his phone. He learns that all he's tried to accomplish failed spectacularly. Bella is pregnant with his demon child, is literally drinking blood, and is in Vampire HQ with the leader insisting she will be turned immediately after the C-section.

Edward races to Volterra and strides into the room demanding Bella be aborted and remain human.

Aro stares.

Carlisle awkwardly explains that Bella's too far along, it's too late now even if they wanted to, more she adamantly doesn't want to abort and never did.

As for Bella being human... Bella pipes in that she's cool on becoming the vampire part. Aro's a great guy. She then races to embrace Edward, he's come back, after all this time. And he's going to be a father, isn't that wonderful?

Edward loses his mind.

And because this is Edward, I have no idea what he'll do, only it'll be utter madness. This is my best guess.

To be a little more serious, he probably tries to abort the child anyway, he mercy kills Bella and the child, or Renesmee manages to get through to him.

Given canon, it's likely the latter. Bella is convinced that her and Edward's relationship is perfect.

Aro has no idea what to think of any of this.

[paellaplease]

Hi, I see you're taking requests! If it hasn't been done yet, could you do aspectabund with Revali please? I love your writing <3

2. aspectabund - letting emotion show easily through the face or eyes

pairing: revali x reader

summary:  he knows you’ve been avoiding him and he can’t seem to figure out why.

  Shaking the snow from his feathers, Revali surveyed the layered red rock of Mount Agaat with a scrutinizing gleam in his eyes. The reconnaissance flyby over the ice covered peaks had proven successful, with him safely scouting out several bokoblin camps under the cover of cloud. 

Mindful of the tripwire, he entered the makeshift campsite to find you and the Gerudo Chief conversing quietly by the fire. You appeared in deep contemplation, and out of respect (and perhaps partial curiosity) he made no move to announce his arrival. 

Urbosa crossed her arms, turning to you with a sly smile adorning her lip. “You can’t keep dancing around each other forever.” 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, fiddling with one of your winter gloves. “It’s highly likely he won’t understand anyway.” 

“I’m sure his feelings on the matter are not as dissimilar as you think. Besides...” She leaned forward, whispering something into your ear. 

Warmth creeping up to your cheeks, your face was in your hands in an instant, body leaning forward as Urbosa let out a short laugh at your exaggerated reaction. Cute.

The mortified groan you gave in response made him chuckle, finally alerting you both to his presence. 

The Gerudo Chief angled her head and gave a brief nod in his direction, most likely having sensed his presence ages ago. In stark contrast, you quickly spun in your seat, mouth agape. 

Nearly falling from the log, Urbosa reached out to snag the hood of your coat, saving your face from smashing into the dirt ground. Revali tsked, you should really be more aware of your surroundings. 

"Revali!” Immediately, you bit down on your lip, schooling your face into something more subdued. “Welcome back." 

Tilting his head, he found it odd how difficult it was for you to maintain eye contact. Your cheeks were darker at this point, the tip of your nose slightly red. His wings itched to readjust the scarf wrapped loosely around your neck. Perhaps you were cold. That won’t do. 

"Did I miss anything?" He asked, looking pointedly at Urbosa. 

He would never admit it but the Chief maintained a steadfast poker face. “I have nothing to share.” Standing up, she moved to add more kindling to the fire. “No monster has dared approach us yet.”

Judging by the impressive blades hanging from both your hips, he wasn’t surprised. Rubbing at his shoulders, he swiped a wing over the rocky expanse before them. “Good. And thanks to me, we now have a greater chance of avoiding them on the way up.”

He didn’t miss the way your body froze when Urbosa offered for him to take her seat. Not seeing any issue and assuming it to be a response to the cold of the mountain, he acquiesced. 

The mission was completed without a hitch, the swing of your blade delivering the killing blow to the fierce lynel that guarded the peak of the mountains. Revali tried not to stare as you cleaned your blade on the snow, ignoring the errant beat of his heart as you turned to smile at him, skin still flushed from the heat of battle. 

“It comes to no surprise that you are the Gerudo Chief’s apprentice.” He nodded, unable to hide the hint of admiration in his voice.

Tugging at the sleeves of your flowing blue jacket, your eyes were wide and shining, mouth close to admitting something profound and important. Revali kept his beak shut, waiting for you to say what you needed, disappointed when all it came to be was a simple “Thanks.” 

You then proceeded not to speak to him for the rest of the week. 

It was a shame really, you were one of the few allies he could stand for more than five minutes. The Rito thought you were diligent; a fighter that could tame a tempest, and most of all a worthy opponent when it came to the odd verbal sparring match. 

Never had you shied away from a challenge, especially one posed by him. He was invested in your progress, secretly standing guard on the nights you would sneak out to train, ensuring that no person nor creature would disturb you. What's worse, a part of him honestly thought that you had begun to consider him as something close to a friend. 

And now...

“I’ll scout the area!” 

Revali sighed as he watched your retreating form once again, the remaining Champions looking at each other with equal confusion at your sudden disappearance into the forest. He didn’t know what your problem was, and honestly one more day of these mixed messages was going to drive him insane. 

Slipping past him like water, you evaded him at all costs. Taking your meals alone or with different people, changing the location of your training sessions, waking up unbearably early or extremely late. 

Then, on day eight of this madness, he found you sparring with a particular golden-haired knight that he couldn’t stand. That was the last straw. 

“Fight me,” he said to you, uncaring of the other knights on the training field that stopped to stare at him approaching. The sword in his wing, though blunted, felt foreign and heavy. Long has it been since he last held a blade like this. 

Taking off your helmet, you rubbed at your eyes to see if it was truly him. “Revali?” Funny, that was the first thing you’d said to him in days. “Where’s your bow? Ah, it seems you’ve forgotten.” You were already in the process of collecting your things. “Perhaps next time. It wouldn’t be fair if you had to fight me with a sword, after all…”

He scoffed, watching as you turned to leave. “Oh, so you plan on running away again like a scared fledgling?” 

The training sword sailed past his head, missing his cheek by only a fraction. You didn't give him a second to flinch. 

Revali side-stepped away, making a move to swing his sword at your back. Feet sliding, you blocked it with ease, sword already there to intercept his own even before it completed its arc through the air. 

Experimentally, he pushed back on the blade. Dead still, it refused to budge. He tilted his head to capture your eyes, thrilled to see the burning embers behind them, all passivity long abandoned. There you are. “Nice to see you,” he grinned wryly. 

Both of you separated quickly. Circling each other, his eyes took in the determined clench of your jaw and the steady rise and fall of your chest, waiting for when you’d launch yourself forward again. 

"Not bad," you smirked. “Another one from that bag of tricks Chief Kamori taught you?” Your confidence in the moment was rather enthralling. Once again he found himself memorizing the planes of your face, reveling in the way your emotions would flit past—clear as day. 

“Just you wait til I’m in the air with a bow in my hand." 

"That's surprising!" You grinned, teeth sharp. "Didn't think the Great Revali was so reliant on keeping to the skies.” A cloud of dirt was kicked up as you propelled yourself forward. Taking the hilt with both hands, you raised your sword to strike heavily down on his head. “But isn’t it pretty when he finally comes down to your level.” 

With a grunt, Revali barely had time to strengthen his stance, bringing his blade up to block your attack. The clashing of swords sent his talons skidding back on the dirt, the muscles in his arms straining against the weight of the blow. 

“You’re insane!” He laughed breathily. “That could have cleaved my skull in two.”

“I knew you’d block it.” 

The fight soon became the only other sound in the training field, many of the knights having left to complete their drills somewhere else. Even that quiet Hylian was no longer there, taking his leave once confident you could hold your own. 

Of course they can defend themselves. He wanted to call out in mocking arrogance. And if they ever were in trouble they wouldn’t need you anyway. Because I’m here. 

Taking a deep breath, you launched yourself at him again, delivering several attacks in a series of sweeping motions. Revali found himself having to focus intently on each one, blocking one after the other, eyes following the movement of your arm in an attempt to anticipate where the blade would next appear. 

As such, he doesn’t notice the sweeping motion of your leg, the action sending him falling backwards into the ground. 

Unlucky for you, the Rito had known the feeling of falling all his life. And before you had the chance to step away, he discarded his blade, reaching out to drag you down with him. 

The air was knocked out of him as you landed painfully on his chest. Your sword slipped from your hand, clattering to the side. Revali pushed it further away when you tried to reach for it, trapping you against him with his other wing. 

Stilling, he could feel the rush of your heartbeat against his own. From on top, you glared at him. “Let me go, fights not over.” 

“Call it an intermission, darling.” You went red at that, smushing your head into his chest so as to hide the wild blush on your cheeks. “This fight is on hold until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me this whole week.” 

“Because you’re…”

“What was that?” He said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. 

“Because you’re you!” You finally let out. An angry scream left your throat, except because your face was still pressed to his front it came out as muffled and rather adorable. 

Revali rested his head on the ground as he exhaled, finding peace in the never ending sea of blue stretched out above you both. “Well,” he said, interrupting the little breakdown you were having. “Of course I’m me, there’s no one else really.  Unless you’ve met another Rito of the same name with razor sharp wit and devilishly good looks.” 

You huffed a laugh, finally lifting your head to look at him. This close and he could see the fan of your eyelashes and the kiss of the sun on your cheeks. It took everything in him not to reach out and trace the line of your mouth, wondering if your lips were as soft as they appeared. 

“I’ve been avoiding you because I like you, silly bird.” Blinking, you gazed at him with utter softness and sincerity. “And I apologise for running. I intended to tell you earlier— on the mountain. But self-doubt got the best of me and I didn’t want you to stop being my friend if you didn’t feel the same.”

Revali’s wings fell to his sides as you shifted, propping yourself up with both your arms. “Guess there’s nothing to worry about now that it’s out in the open.” A watery laugh escaped from your lips when he said nothing. “Come on, Revali. Say something. Or at least stand up so I can kick your ass.” 

His arms were around you once again in an instant, crushing you to him in a tight embrace. “Rito, if this is some kind of trick to knock me off my guard I swear…” He could feel your smile as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. 

“I like you too.” He shook his head, poking you in the side and smiling when you yelped in response. “You are amazing and skillful. I enjoy every moment I spend with you. Though you overthink too much. Alas, but the curse of one so perceptive.” 

“Still don’t know if that’s an insult or a compliment.” You mouthed into his neck. His feathers raised at the feeling of your warm breath against him. “Though I’m extremely relieved that Urbosa was right.” 

Revali thought back to the mission at Mount Agaat, wondering what exactly the Gerudo Chief told you back then. “Right about what?”

“That you can’t take your eyes off me, even if you tried.” 

[thefanficmonster]

I may or may not have just sent the 3 word challenge in my real account instead of anon... I'm sorry. Please don't answer there. :)

When you post, post answering here please.

Again, much love,

📚🌻

Don't worry dear! Your identity shall remain a secret 🥰 Here's yet another fic with my Resident Evil OC: Gwen Winters (she’s an adult guys, don’t worry. However this is still an Older Man/Younger Woman relationship)

The words dear  📚🌻 Anon gave me in their previous ask were: Unruly, endurable and system. Please enjoy!

What happens in the gym....

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC

Warnings: Swearing, Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Angsty Romance

“Sure, throw me in the fire like you always do, Leon!“ Chris snaps, clenching his fists tightly as he glares at his best friend while the two stand in the dimly lit gym.

“Chris, you’re a BSAA captain, for the love of God! You should know better than to complain about something as little as this!“ Leon, while significantly calmer tone and demeanor-wise, is glaring daggers of his own.

“Why me, damn it?! And why her?!“ Chris is not done with his attempts to get out of the situation Leon’s trying to land him in and his partner’s honestly done with it.

“And why not?! You see the same potential I see, why would it be so hard to train her? She’s a quick learner, she’s disciplined when she wants to be and she’s already skilled to a certain degree. You’ve made soldiers out of total wimps before, why is she such a hassle to you?!“

“Because she’s disciplined when she wants to be and I guarantee she won’t want to when she’s around me. She’s unruly, selfish, arrogant and a Chris-phobe. I’m telling you, she hates me!“

It’s about time Leon’s had enough of this conversation. To be honest, he was done with it as soon as it started but he stayed, thinking he’d be able to change Chris’ mind but seeing as how this is a hopeless case, he’s just been wasting his time. “Does she? Or are you projecting your hate for her onto her?” Slinging his duffel bag containing his training gear over his shoulder, Leon finally makes that realization that these are ten minutes of his life he’ll never get back and storms out of the gym without another word.

Chris doesn’t attempt to stop him, in fact, he’s relieved he left. He sighs, silently hating himself for all the shit he said and how he meant none of it. It was all hard bullshit and he doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed that Leon didn’t realize. Either way, he’s been cleared of possible suspicion, even if training the newest BSAA rookie still remains as his task.

Gwen Winters, she’s such a fucking handful. One cannot tell if it’s because she’s angry with the world, angry with herself or just straight up picked up on the habits of the family that took her in when she was rescued from Raccoon City where she was held as an experiment hamster. A chemistry project basically. Ethan and Mia were recovering from the events back in Louisiana at the time, still probably are, that is not some shit you get over, so they thought having another person in the house would help them. And help Gwen did. See, Gwen isn’t a handful with everyone. In fact, she’s a real sweetheart and Chris knows it too, despite his bogus claims. He knows she’s got a heart and soul of gold and is built with the will of a BSAA soldier already. All she needs is a bit better fighting skills and she’s good to go. 

He sees how she acts with everyone around him. She’s been quick to make friends with Jill and his sister Claire and she’s even got Leon’s liking and trust which is hella hard to get, especially after all the shit with Ada. She’s overall a super sweet and lovely girl, even with him from time to time. He’s seen her welcoming, friendly smiles whenever he stops by the Winters’ home. He’s heard her laugh at the jokes he rarely cracks.

Then why does she act like she hates him so often? And why does he claim he hates her?

Chris is snapped back to reality by the sound of rough impact. It’s a very distinct noise, one he places immediately: the sound of fists hitting a punching bag. It’s the middle of the night, almost midnight actually, and knowing how lazy the soldiers on his team are, he can only assume it’s either his sister or Jill, given that Leon just left. However, they’ve had people sneak in to train for free before, so it’d be for the best if he went to check who was releasing some pent up energy on the poor punching bag. Judging by the intensity of the punches being thrown, sounds like the person might be angry as well.

And they have every right to be. Because they are Gwen.

Chris’ face goes a bit red at the sight of the infuriated rookie giving the punching bag her all, punishing it the way she’d want to do to her superior she just heard call her all the names she hates being referred by.

“Winters I-“

“Unruly?“ Punch “Selfish?” Punch “Arrogant?” Punch

She stills herself, sighing and wiping the droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, “You say all that and expect me not to be a Chris-phobe?” She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her shoulders before continuing her wrath over the piece of equipment she’s threatening to destroy. She hasn’t spared him a single look yet, something he’s rather grateful for because the last thing he wants to see is whatever her gaze is hiding right now. “I’ll talk to Leon.” She says, her voice leveled and breathy, far from the pissed off tone she was just using. This calmness is a lot scarier though. “I’ll tell him I don’t want you to be my trainer. To be perfectly clear, I never wanted you to train me in the first place. I’m just not the type to complain, you know. I’m not picky. Beggers can’t be choosers. I take what I can get. And you were all I was offered, but...” she trails off, delivering a particularly hard punch, “It’s not gonna work. I may not be picky, but I know when to draw the line. I know when I deserve better.”

“Kid, you really have no idea what the case really is here.“ He attempts desperately, taunted by the thought of acting on his instincts and approaching her even if that means being the recipient of one of those hard punches.

“You know, I’m strong. I’m skilled. I can hold my own in a fight quite nicely. I’m endurable. I’m not afraid to work my ass off and sweat and pant like a dog after workouts. There’s not a line I wouldn’t cross, but you still choose to make me feel lesser than any soldier you’ve ever come across, that’s really lovely of you, Captain Redfield.“

“Winters, please...“

“It’s ok, I won’t tell Ethan and Mia. I’m sure they’ll send you to hell over it. I’m not petty like that.“

He’s had enough. He’s had enough of hearing that hurt tone in her voice. He’s done hearing these words she’s so certain are true but aren’t. He’s done lying to her and to himself. Before he can even think twice about it, he grabs her by the arms gently but firmly, turning her to face him despite her hostile attempts to free herself from his hold like a wild animal caught in a trap. He’s surprised when she relaxes, probably seeing that as a quicker way out of the situation rather than struggling though if she tried to free herself any longer he would’ve probably let her go.

“Fucking hell, Gwen, listen to me.“ He looks her dead in the eyes, catching onto the spark of shock created by his use of her first name. But he also sees something else, something that looks dangerously a lot like tears. He knows she won’t cry, especially not in front of him, but knowing that he’s the cause behind the welling of those crystal droplets in her always shiny, always smiling eyes breaks him. When she doesn’t look away nor protest, he continues, “I can’t be your captain. I can’t be your trainer. I can’t be any of that. I’m a strictly professional man, and it’d be highly unprofessional of me to take you in as my soldier.”

“But why?“ She’s fully aware she sounds like a whiny kid - exactly how she thinks he envisions her sometimes - but she couldn’t care less. She wants and needs answers. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep or keep coming back to the training center if she doesn’t get them.

It’s blatantly clear this is far from easy for Chris. His first instinct is to look away, let go of her, run away like he always does - not that she’d let him do such a thing but still. He’s finds the words impossible to spit out yet he oh so desperately feels the need to get them out of his system. And so, he gathers all the strength within him and finally forces himself to say it.

“Because a captain isn’t supposed to look at a soldier the way I look at you.“

Sure, it sounds cryptic as heck but he has no doubt she’ll catch on. Gwen is a smart and sharp girl, among many other things. She confirms this when barely three seconds after he’s said it, he notices her eyes widening

“Sir, I-“

“Don’t.“ He says simply, a small, regretful smile playing across his lips as his hand slides down her arm to take hold of hers, “I just admitted my dirtiest secret to you and you are still gonna remind me how unprofessional I am by using my title, Kid?“

She purses her lips, the shock momentarily replaced by her signature mild glare, “Well, you just admitted your biggest secret to me and yet you still choose to call me ‘Kid’, huh?”

He chuckles, letting his other hand repeat the movements of the first, “Sorry, force of habit.” His thumbs brush against her knuckles briefly as his head falls, his gaze fixating on where their bodies are connected, “You know, I didn’t tell you this to get myself any pity or anything. I just wanted you to understand and....wanted to get it off my chest. Ethan will kill me if he finds out, won’t he?” He suddenly asks, regaining the courage to look up at her once again.

She giggles, “Who says he’s gonna find out?”

Chris bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “You’re right, there’s nothing really to find out abo-”

Gwen has never been a chatter nor can she tolerate when people beat around the bush so she’s quick to cut them off sometimes, no matter how rude that may seem or sound. However, just to clarify, her chosen method of cutting a person off isn’t always kissing them. Just saying - this is a special situation requiring special methods.

Taken aback by the sudden feeling of her lips on his, Chris’ eyes close automatically but not even a second later he responds to the kiss properly: wrapping his arms around Gwen’s waist as her hands travel up to cup his face. The kiss is short - too short if either of them is to be asked - but it’s worth all the words they didn’t say despite wanting to.

When they pull away, Gwen gives him a mischievous smile, “Now he could find out about that and then shit would go south. That’d suck, wouldn’t it Chris?“

He’s only ever heard her say his name twice, once in passing conversation with Claire and once earlier when she paraphrased his term ‘Chris-phobe’, both time spoken with some dose of dislike he now realizes was a cover-up all along. Turns out the two are a lot more alike than they initially thought. Regardless, hearing her say his name with fondness instead of bitterness makes his heart flutter, his body yearn to have her closer, his lips wanting to be in contact with hers again. But he’s a patient and self-controlled man, he’s nothing if not willpower sculpted in a human body, so he keeps his distance, waiting for her to pick the moves, waiting for her to make the decisions just like she’s his captain.

“Big time.“ He manages to say, voice coarse all of a sudden, barely able to leave his throat. “So it stays here, right?”

She giggles again, bringing her lips within an inch or two away from his, taunting him, threatening to break his self-control, “What happens in the gym stays in the gym, Redfield.”

Golden rules of discretion, ones he mustn’t break ever. Especially not when his captain - Captain Gwen Winters - holds so much power over him.

[we-love-imagines]

How about one where Jotaro has a crush on the reader but he thinks the reader likes Kakyoin, so he tries to get them be together. Reader notices this, gets frustrated by it, and confesses to Jotaro out of said frustration

I really liked this ask!!! Thank you so much anon! I’m sorry this took so long, my ask box was being mean, but I hope you enjoy! I’m going to start writing more frequently again- I took a little break after Christmas Countdown!

warning: some naughty words and a sprinkle-dinkle of angst!

Ripping off the Band-Aid

Jotaro couldn’t take it anymore.

How you looked at him, how you laughed at all his jokes, how happy you two seemed together- it hurt more than words could express. Jotaro, over the course of your journey to Cairo, had somehow learned to love you; but he saw how you didn’t return his feelings, that much was obvious. There was little question in his mind that you and Kakyoin had a thing for each other. Yet, that isn’t what hurt the most.

It was the lack of closure that really stung; the feeling that he still had a chance with you clawing in the back of his mind every time he saw you and Kakyoin. Frankly, he wished you two would just get together already so he could pack away his feelings and be done with them. If he knew you were taken, forever out of his reach, he could let you go. But this weird limbo you were in, where you were simultaneously attainable and out of his grasp, was torture.  

While Kakyoin certainly wasn’t outgoing, he was far more approachable than Jotaro was. Of course you would prefer him; Kakyoin was nicer, smarter, and overall the better option compared to him. Jotaro really wanted to beat himself over the head sometimes, wondering if he’d be in Kakyoin’s position if he had just been a little nicer. Getting sick of all the ‘what if’s’ and heartache, Jotaro made the decision to get you and Kakyoin together as soon as possible. That was the only hope he had to pack away his jealousy, and put this stupid feeling behind him.

It started small, of course. Jotaro would distance himself from you and Kakyoin, giving you two a lot more time alone together than you were accustomed to. This technique quickly grew more obvious, like when Jotaro would whisper to the Old Man to let you two room together or insisting you both sit in the back during long car rides. While you enjoyed your time with Kakyoin, of course, both of you started to notice Jotaro’s desire that you two stay together at all times. When it was just the two of you, it felt like there was a piece missing- the third member of your little trio.

Jotaro got tired of you two still dancing around each other’s feelings, so he upped the ante. Pushing aside how much it hurt, he’d throw the old man’s money away on flowers and jewelry for you, writing “From: Kakyoin” on the little tags and leaving them in your hotel room. While he was never into this lovey-dovey type shit, part of him wished he could address this sweet, romantic gifts from himself. 

He didn’t know where he was going with this idea- you weren’t stupid. If Kakyoin admitted to you that he didn’t give you these gifts, you’d probably think it was some sick prank. For once, he hoped Kakyoin would lie to you, claim it was his doing and confess, so this could all be over with. Even if you did think it was some mean joke Jotaro was trying to pull, who cares? Maybe you and Kakyoin could bond over your shared hatred of him.

After a few of these incidents, your patience was beginning to wear thin. At this point, Jotaro refused to speak to you and Kakyoin outside of conflict, always ducking away the moment you three were alone together. Not to mention the weird, frequent gifts; it was clear Kakyoin wasn’t getting them for you, seeing as he freaked out and assumed the strange objects in your room were part of an enemy Stand. Quickly discovering it wasn’t part of a ploy to kill you, you figured that it must be from another member of the group- you had a sneaking suspicion of who it could be.

The next time you checked into a hotel, you hatched a plan with Kakyoin to catch your mysterious benefactor red-handed. While you two were “hanging by the pool,” Hierophant Green remained in the hotel room, watching and waiting for them to deliver the goods. 

Wouldn’t you know it, Jotaro shuffled into the room, looking around to make sure the coast was clear. When he saw you weren’t there, he pulled back his large, black coat to reveal a little bouquet of daisies, scribbling “From: Kakyoin” on the tag, leaving as quickly as he came.

Something in you was deeply hurt by this, rage pooling in your gut as you stood up from your poolside chair.

“I knew it!” you exclaimed to Kakyoin, your eyebrows knitting tightly as you spoke, “That bastard’s been messing with us! I’m gonna go give him a piece of my mind!”

As you began to stomp away, Kakyoin called for you to wait just a second, to try and calm down before you went to confront him. However, his words fell on deaf ears, your face going red out of pure frustration. Jotaro has the gall to ditch you and Kakyoin out of nowhere, try and push you two together at all times, and now he’s trying to fool you? Nuh-uh. Not on your watch. You were determined to figure out his little game so you could figure out why he wanted you out of his life so badly. 

Behind all your anger was genuine hurt- someone you cared about very, very deeply looked like he wanted nothing to do to you. You deserved an explanation at least.

Angrily marching up to his hotel room door, you knock with resounding force before waiting for him to answer. After a moment, the door opened up, Jotaro’s eyes widening when he saw the furious look on your face. Before he could shut the door on you, you placed your foot in the doorframe, forcing yourself in with an angry glare.

“You’re not getting out of this one, Jojo,” you practically snarled, crossing your arms as you stood before him, “You owe me an explanation.”

Without skipping a beat, Jotaro dryly remarked, “Kakyoin asked me to do it.” In his mind, Jotaro felt like shit for what he was doing; the fact that you were this upset surprised him, but he didn’t let that show on his face. His bold-faced lie only seemed to heat you up further, the hurt in your heart threatening to boil over.

“Don’t spout Bullshit at me, Jotaro. Since you’ve been making me and Kakyoin spend every waking moment together, he’d never have the time to buy anything.”

Jotaro, in his usual emotionally-unavailable fashion, remained stone-faced as he turned away from you. He was trying to suppress his feelings, trying to put the pain of hurting you aside so all of this could be over and done with. While he felt you staring daggers into his back, he tried his best to pretend you weren’t there, searching for the TV remote in the hopes you’d just go away- go away and find Kakyoin, that is.

You were both used to fighting in the literal sense, beating the snot out of enemy Stand users on the regular. However, fights like these, arguments about emotions and friendship and junk, were somehow a million times scarier for Jotaro. He couldn’t just hit the problem until it stopped moving, he had to sit down and sort out his feelings- the very feelings he was trying to keep hidden.

While Jotaro wanted to ignore you, you were done being ignored by him. Your bubble of anger burst as Jotaro grabbed the remote, sending your Stand to slap it out of his hands and forcefully turn him around to face you.

“You know how much it hurts when you try to push me and Kakyoin away? How much we miss hanging out with you?” you spit at him, words spewing out of you as everything boiled over, “I dunno what you’re trying to do with the flowers and boxes of chocolate, but it isn’t funny. If you’re trying to get me and Kakyoin together or something, it won’t work- I don’t like him like that. I like you like that!”

Clutching a hand over your mouth, you couldn’t believe what you said. By the uncharacteristic blush on his face, Jotaro couldn’t believe it either. Ever since he saved your ass from Yellow Temperance, you’ve definitely had a thing for Jotaro. That thing grew and grew, especially in his absence; in all honesty, that’s probably why his trickery hurt you so badly. Both of you stood motionless, silence hanging in the air as you both waited for the other to speak.

After a few long, deafening moments, Jotaro finally croaked out, “So... you’re not into Kakyoin?”

“Only as a friend,” you squeaked out in response, your cheeks reddened and blazing hot, “Did you think me and Kakyoin were...?”

“-Yes.”

Again, both of you just stared at each other, trying to gauge what the other was thinking. You had just confessed your feelings to Jotaro, and other than his pink cheeks, his stoic face remained the same. Little did you know, his stomach was doing backflips, his mind racing at a mile a minute trying to comprehend what you had said. 

You liked him? You really, really liked him? Like that?

He practically short-circuited, anything about DIO or the outside world gone from his mind; to him, it felt like the entire universe was just this room, and you two were it’s sole inhabitants.

“Jotaro?” you mumbled his name weakly, breaking him out of his reverie. He didn’t realize how long you’d both been standing there, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the prolonged silence left you wondering if your feelings were returned.

“I- I, um-” he stuttered, quickly trying to regain his composure, “I thought you and Kakyoin had feelings for each other, so I tried to help you two out.”

“Oh, I see,” was all you managed to mumble out, your mind swirling with thoughts of rejection. Was this a subtle way to tell you to get lost? If he wanted you and Kakyoin to get together, he probably didn’t feel the same. You turned to leave, trying to hold back tears as you reached for the door’s handle.

“(Y/n),” he stopped you, grasping you by the wrist. You turn to face him, his grip sliding towards your hand as you found yourself closer to him than ever before.

“I tried to get you and Kakyoin together because I thought I didn’t have a chance with you. I thought it would make me feel better,” he admitted, his face now fully red as he averted his gaze from yours, “You know I’m bad with the mushy stuff, but I like you, (Y/n). A lot.”

Both you didn’t realize how good hearing that out loud would make you feel. Wordlessly, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. His body was still for a moment, almost as if he didn’t believe this was really happening, but eventually his tenseness melted away as he returned your physical affection. Jotaro felt a little dizzy, but in a good way- he was so surprised you felt the same way, it made him delirious.

“I’m sorry I got so angry,” you whispered into his chest, arms slowly pulling off of him, “Me and Kakyoin really missed you.”

“I’ll try not to overdo it next time,” he chuckled, looking down to meet your eyes again. You jokingly punched him in the arm, trying to muster up an angry expression despite how good you felt.

“There won’t be a next time doofus!”

As you both laughed together, you tried your best to memorize the rare joyful look on Jotaro’s face. You had a feeling you’d be seeing it more often.

[thedistantdusk]

Arcadia, Chapter 1

My submission for the 2021 Hinny birthday challenge for the HG discord! Thanks to Liza for organizing, to @accio-broom for the Brit-pick, to @secretkeeper13 for the beta, and to anyone else who helped (I'm probably forgetting a few folks, apologies).

The challenge theme this year was content based on TV! This is an (extremely loose) X-Files AU, but you absolutely don’t need to be familiar with X-Files to understand this :D

TW (spoilers): swearing, references to (severe) mental health concerns, (eventual) consensual relations

___________________________________________________________

D A Y  + O N E

The woman probably finds herself charming as she stands in their driveway, her hands clasped in frozen excitement.

But Ginny just finds her creepy.

Really fucking creepy.

Harry drops hired car into first gear as they pull in. This woman— the head of the village council, Ginny reckons, the one she spoke to on the phone— wears perfectly-pleated Chino pants with a lavender jumper draped across her shoulders.

Her attire is standard for a posh village… especially a new-build village, one with a covenant and loads of stupid rules. It’s the woman’s eerie, opened-mouthed grin that shoots a chill up Ginny’s spine.

Her stark white teeth glint in the sun, but her smile doesn’t move an inch… and the longer Ginny stares, the more unsettled she grows. The only thing larger than her grin is the mane of yellow hair that surrounds her face like an ersatz halo.

Harry clears his throat as he turns off the car; Ginny realizes this is the first sound either of them has made since leaving London.

Awkward.

She reaches for her door handle, but the random woman gets to it first.

“You must be Jenny and Henry!” she shrieks, yanking on Ginny’s shoulders before she’s even unbuckled. “Oh, sorry! Love, do let me get the strap!”

Ginny’s on her feet and pressed to the stranger’s perfumed bosom before she has a chance to tell her she can manage just fine herself, thanks.

“Lovely to meet you in person!” the woman cries, nearly shaking with enthusiasm. It’s not until Ginny’s returned a weak squeeze that the vice-like grip around her middle weakens.

Rubbing her aching shoulder, she sneaks a glimpse at Harry; while she fought for air, he apparently climbed out of the car, only to stare at the two of them like a deer in the headlights. Now his elbow’s at an awkward angle, his hand behind his back, which could only mean one thing: he’s reaching for the wand in his back pocket.

Shit.

Ginny shakes her head and hopes her eyes convey what her lips can’t: She’s just a standard Muggle weirdo. Relax.

“I’m Jane. Jane Connors. In the flesh!” The woman (whose voice Ginny now finds painfully familiar) throws her hands in the air and twirls on the spot. “I take it you’re Jenny and Henry Petri!”

Harry interrupts with a booming chuckle before Ginny says a word; in three quick steps, he’s wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “That’s Pee-tri, actually. Like the dish,” Harry— Henry— adds with a wink. “And speaking of dish…” His eyes travel over Ginny, his voice going all deep and silky.

She bites back a shudder, hating the way her stomach drops as his fingers graze her arm. All that keeps her grounded is knowing the truth: Harry’s good at his job, nothing more. The only reason he’s suddenly become a skilled actor is that his career demands it.

Hers does too, she reminds herself firmly. And if she has any intention of successfully completing her first solo mission, she needs to get her shit together. Now.

Ginny blinks up at Harry, appropriately sobered; his eyes glimmer with mirth. As suspected, he’s only doing his job. Touch is just part of the assignment description. He has no way of knowing what it does to her— because really, truly, it shouldn’t.

And maybe if she keeps telling herself that, it’ll eventually come true.

Harry winks at Jane, tugging Ginny against his side. “My new wife and I had a long journey from the city! We were hoping to get some alone-time before tucking in, I’m sure you understand.”

Jane looks puzzled. “You— but it’s 5:43!” An uncomfortable giggle burbles from her lips. “You must be moved in by 6. Surely you’ve read the covenant rules?”

“Erm… may have missed that one,” Ginny lies. “There’s quite a few, see. We’re used to—”

But Jane shoves her fingers into her mouth, cutting her off with an ear-piercing whistle. Just as quickly, another chill races up Ginny’s spine. People up and down the street emerge from their semi-detached homes and race towards them, their faces in downcast unison.

They’ve all been watching. Waiting for the signal. Ready.

Ginny’s not sure how long ago the Department of Mysteries delivered the moving van and left it on the street, but the horde of random people aren’t fussed with the details, either. Within five seconds of Jane’s whistle, the strangers throw open the back door and begin an unloading process that reeks of military precision.

“Here’s the house key!” trills Jane, pulling it from her pocket. “Oh, and Petris!” She turns to Harry and Ginny, wagging her finger. “I’ll also need a copy of your car key, ASAP. We’re firm believers in the buddy system here in Arcadia.” She returns her attention to the stone-faced neighbors, who are now scurrying to the door. “This way, friends— right this way!”

“I— that’s really unnecessary,” Ginny says, bewildered, as people rush inside their new house, boxes in arms. “We’re perfectly able to—”

“Nonsense!” cries a man with grey sideburns as he takes a box from the back. “We’re neighborly here. You’d better get used to it.”

“Yes!” chimes another voice. A chubby man wearing a Polo and a golden necklace emerges from behind the lorry, hurrying up the walk. “We’re like a family here. We all— oh no!” He lets out a startled cry as a box labeled FINE CHINA topples from his arms and lands on the pavement with a thump.

He rushes towards it, face falling, but Ginny’s main concern is the box’s silent descent; she runs over, making a mental note to have a word with the designer of these props. Would something noisy and fragile have killed them? For fuck’s sake...

“Sorry,” the man says with a pained wince. “I’m just so clumsy. I-I promise, I’ll—”

“It’s fine,” Ginny soothes, dropping to her knees. “Don’t worry, really. We aren’t too big on dishes.”

Maybe if she keeps him talking, he won’t realize it’s bloody empty. Seriously, this is amateur shit. Luckily, he’s too distracted to notice.

The man offers a sheepish smile. “I’m Mike. Mike Snodgrass. You may have seen Mike and Jess in the resident guide, but erm…” He trails off, sadness in his voice.

Ginny cocks her head to feign confusion, but of course she’s familiar with Jess Snodgrass, 25, reported missing last November. Her photo’s been on Ginny’s desk for almost as long. Even now, Jess appears in Ginny’s mind with such startling clarity that she can almost see her beside Mike... all 5 feet of her, with curly red hair, bright blue eyes, and a lopsided grin.

Jess Snodgrass… Arcadia’s third missing person. The first to disrupt the couples-only disappearance pattern.

Mike shrugs. “But erm… it’s just me now,” he repeats. “I’m a primary teacher at Saint Julian’s, just up the road.” He nods to his left. “So if you’ve got any homework or school questions, give me a ring!” He pastes on a smile that doesn’t match his eyes; it’s an expression with which Ginny’s well-acquainted.

“I’ll have to remember that, Mike Snodgrass,” Ginny says, shaking his hand.

She immediately regrets it.

Seeing Mike Snodgrass on paper is one thing, but touch makes him human. His hand feels big and warm, his smile earnest and sweet; he reminds her so strongly of Neville that her stomach aches. Ginny breathes through her nose and focuses on the way his necklace — a medallion of Saint Julian, appropriately enough — sparkles in the sun.

“Like I said, I’m all alone,” Mike repeats, offering his hand to help her up. “If you ever need anything, Jenny, don’t hesitate to ask!”

Ginny taps her chin. “Actually, I do have a question! I reckon it’s just a rumor, though. You don’t have to confirm or deny.” She winks at him and leans in as a woman in a fleece jumper rushes past.

Mike’s smile widens, his face brightening… and ah fuck, that one hurts, because she’s about to break his heart.

“Mike…” Ginny murmurs, studying his expression. The more she says his name, the less he reminds her of Neville; she wants to keep it that way. “With everyone being so bloody hospitable here, how come there are so many disappearances?”

Mike stops bobbing. His smile vanishes as quickly as the former occupants of Jenny and Henry’s new home. When Ginny looks back into his eyes, her gut plummets with a sensation of wretched familiarity.

Because she expected sadness on his face… the same type she saw when he mentioned Jess’ name. Sadness she can deal with; sadness is painful, but she sees it all the time.

She sees something worse, though.

Fear.

And not day-to-day fear. This isn’t like hating needles or avoiding clown movies. Mike’s face is filled with the sort of wide-eyed, gripping, primal terror that seizes your insides in a vice. This is how you’d feel if your entire family were held captive in a dungeon, and a single word to the wrong person would spell their deaths.

Or how you’d feel if your ex-boyfriend were the corrupt government’s most desired fugitive… and you still fancied him very much, indeed.

“I… n-no idea,” Mike finally stutters, blinking. Then he sucks in a deep breath through his nose, his expression brightening again.

“So what do you and Henry do for work?” he asks in a booming voice, his grin now unnaturally wide. “We’ve got a carpool to the city if you’re interested. Reducing our carbon footprint is of utmost importance here in Arcadia!” He finishes by spreading his hands in each direction before placing them on his hips, that shit-eating grin still plastered across his face.

In another life, Ginny might’ve laughed. There certainly would have been a lot to cackle over, if she had the luxury of easy laughter. After all, she may as well be living in an am-dram nativity performance, complete with an overeager Joseph beckoning her to the stables after her harrowing desert journey.

Now, though, his reply only fills her with sad, professional detachment. Because fucking hell, how much did this poor man rehearse to get that line right?

She takes pity on him and snaps the bait. “My husband and I work from home,” she says, matching his volume. Someone’s clearly listening; it’s the least she can do. “You won’t see us out much.” Ginny brings the box to her hip. “And seriously, don’t worry about replacing the dishes, either. We mostly do takeaway.”

“No, let me bring you new ones,” Mike insists, his eyes pleading. “Tomorrow? Would that be—”

“What is this?” a voice demands from the back of the truck. Ginny peers around Mike’s shoulder. The man with the gray sideburns stares inside the lorry with a look of disgust.

“A trampoline!” Harry says, stepping aside as another neighbor races past. “We’re thrilled to put it in the garden, aren’t we, Jenny Cakes?”

Jenny Cakes. Is he fucking serious? Two can play at this game, prat.

“Indeed we are, Hen,” she croons, leaning into his side. “Jen and Hen.” She heaves a dreamy sigh and stares into his eyes. “We even rhyme!”

“Rhyming or not, this isn’t allowed,” the man barks, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’d have to apply for a special exemption with Mr Gogolak, but in the meantime…” He checks his watch. “5:53. Seven minutes. It’ll have to go in the garage tonight. I’m Oliver, by the way— Oliver Skinner.”

Harry gives him a theatrical scowl. “I’d say nice to meet you, but those who are enemies of trampolines are generally enemies of mine.”

Ginny bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, but Oliver remains unamused. He raises his pointer finger as if to say something, but Harry gets there first.

“Onnnnly kidding!” Harry winks and claps his shoulder. “Hope we can be fast friends, Oliver.”

Oliver just glares back. “Count on it.”

_______________________________________________________

Ginny’s taking this whole thing very seriously. Not that Harry blames her.

Her voice echoes against the walls of the empty home as she paces around the sitting room, her camera flipped outward to record.

Despite his five-year Auror career, Harry has no real concept of what Unspeakables do. Which, he supposes, is by design. He knows they… know things. Secret things. Things you’d be happier not knowing. He also knows that Kingsley isn’t fond of them. Or perhaps it’s Attica Monkstanley, Ginny’s boss, who King dislikes in particular. Attica’s famous for her refusal to disclose anything — ever. This ranges from potential terrorist plots to her favorite type of sandwich. Thus, Attica isn’t particularly popular. After a career built on helping absolutely no one outside her department, the request for Auror backup on an undisclosed, top-secret endeavor went over about as well as a hippogriff stampede in a posh tea room.

Harry sighs at the blank walls of their would-be living room. King’s in charge now. Big in charge. He or Robards were the obvious choices to accompany Ginny — sorry, Unspeakable GW — on this mission, but when you’re Big In Charge, you call the shots. The shot King called was to pass the assignment to Robards, who in turn passed it to Harry; Robards decided he didn’t need to (direct quote) “take off a week from pre-existing assignments for some fake marriage, new-build village bullshit in the arse-end of Muggle nowhere.”

Admittedly, Harry’s in a bit of a lull at the moment. He’d been assigned to track and recover Yaxley, but that trail went cold on the border of Romania. Harry’s certain he’s just beyond their reach, maybe hiding in a cave, but seeing as how Harry’s not Big In Charge, his opinion doesn’t exactly matter.

Which is precisely how he’s found himself in this bland house in the village of Arcadia, pretending to be married to his ex-girlfriend… who, incidentally, he’s still hopelessly infatuated with, even five years after he ended things.

Because Harry Potter is nothing if not pathetic.

There’d been no realistic way to decline the assignment, though. Not that he’d tried. Seriously, imagine explaining that to your boss: “Mm yeah, sorry King, I can’t do my job because I still wank to the memory of Unspeakable GW riding my—”

Ginny’s narration jerks him from his thoughts. “It’s 6:15 PM on our first day of the assignment,” she dictates into her phone. “Auror Potter and I are secured in the home, posing as Muggle couple Jenny and Henry Petri.”

“Pee-tri!” Harry corrects, throwing his voice across the room.

He hopes he’s loud enough for the camera to detect, but he isn’t exactly brave enough to find out. Harry picks up their empty curry boxes and scampers into the kitchen without so much as a backward glimpse. He may have been forced into this assignment, but he’ll be damned if he can't have a bit of fun.

Her narration stops as he dips out of sight; if Harry were the gambling sort, he’d bet all the gold in Gringotts that she shot him a two-fingered salute away from the camera.

For some fucked up reason, the thought stirs something warm and exciting that lies dormant in his stomach. What’s worse is this feeling almost makes him smile.

No.

Harry draws a breath as he enters the kitchen.

As Kingsley’s told him several times, this arrangement is strictly business— regardless of his past with her. And in retrospect, yeah, the whole setup is an easy way for King to A) refuse responsibility himself, and B) put Monkstanley in a tough spot if it goes pear-shaped.

Harry pops open the rubbish bin. This is just the sort of liability King’s always looking to avoid, really, but— wait. He blinks down into the bin to make sure he’s not just seeing things, but nope… for some reason, the interior is divided into three sections, each in a different color.

Huh! Harry mulls this over before picking the blue bin at random and tossing the containers in. Maybe he’d know what each color meant if he bothered to read the covenant rules. Fortunately, he had much more exciting plans that particular evening involving Ron, loads of butterbeer, and a Canons/Falcons match from hell.

Whatever. Surely Arcadia would make an effort to clearly explain their recycling system if they really cared about the planet.

He returns to the living room just as Ginny’s providing a more in-depth introduction. “Right. I’m Unspeakable GW, badge number”— her voice becomes garbled gibberish, an extra level of concealment, before slipping back to normal speech— “and we’re here to investigate the series of unexplained Muggle disappearances in the village of Arcadia. As this may involve a potential escapee from the Thought Chamber, the Department thought it best for me to investigate. The Thought Chamber’s been my area of expertise for four years…”

Harry sinks into the sofa as she continues; he’s unsure if he should be sad or impressed that this is teaching him more about her job than she ever shared. Not that she did this for long while they were actually together, mind. Nonetheless, his chest flutters again with that stupid bittersweet pride as Ginny scans the room with the phone camera. All of this pageantry is necessary for her job, he knows. Careful documentation. Detailed recordings.

But for fuck’s sake, look at how much she’s done! She’s the youngest Junior Unspeakable in history, soon to become Senior, if this mission works out. She’s composed, she’s eloquent, she’s graceful. Another smile threatens to break through before Harry suppresses it; he just hopes that there’s someone in her life to remind her of how special she is.

She’s really dressed for the part, too. Harry’s certain that none of this is actually in her wardrobe. Seeing her out of jeans and a jumper is off-putting, but she’s done it so damn well. She once told him that most of her clothing choices were based on how easily she could wear them flying.

He swallows the sadness creeping up his throat. He doesn’t even know if she still flies, but she doesn’t in this outfit, that’s for damn sure. Her trainers are impeccably white, with a floral button-up blouse done up to her neck. She’s a bit like a young, beautiful Aunt Petunia; Harry reckons this is more or less the goal, but when she turns around to describe the stairwell, his eyes drop to her arse.

Shit.

He glances away as quickly, but he got a good look. Her casual trousers are rolled at the ankles, but they’ve done nothing to make her look… plain. Harry shuffles on the sofa, desperate for anything else to think about. Somehow, Aunt Petunia’s face still puckers in his mind’s eye, but now he can’t escape the mental image of her bent over the oven of 4 Privet Drive, only this time sporting a round, perfect—

“Potter’s here for backup,” Ginny says, returning to the sitting room. “I’m on primary investigation.”

Thank God; he sighs at the welcome distraction before remembering that bantering with her has always been an effective palate cleanser. So he does that, instead.

“Well, you know what they say,” Harry calls, leaning back against the cushions. “There’s nothing less interesting than the suburbs. Which is why I could never do your job, Jen.” He ends with a wink, resting his hands behind his head.

Ginny arches a brow, holding the camera in front of her. “And please take note, Attica, that the next time this happens, I’ll be the one to choose the names.”

She means it casually… he knows she means it casually. But something in her words pricks him. Irritates him. Wedges beneath his skin.

“Quite an assumption I’ll ever spend this much time with you again,” Harry mutters under his breath.

Shit.

He freezes. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, at least not so… bitterly. Once upon a time, he possessed the social graces to think before replying like that— but days of interpersonal nuance are long gone. They belonged to a carefree teenager with few thoughts aside from the next time he’d run his fingers through the thick, red hair that currently swayed in a long ponytail.

By the time he looks back up at her, Ginny’s face is filled with disappointment. And she’s closed her phone.

“I’ll have to redo that last bit of filming,” she says with a sniff. “But for what it’s worth?” She raises her chin. “You didn’t mind spending time with me in the distant, distant past, Auror Potter.”

Ha!

That was a tremendous understatement.

He’d been in love with her. Stupidly. Disgustingly. The first six months after the war were a blur of sex and mourning. They’d been so punch drunk and delirious that they probably used each other’s bodies more than either of them knew. He really thought they’d have a future, though… that they’d end up getting married and buying a house. Except theirs would have been different than this one. Filled with far more character and history and warmth. Their home would have smelled like baking bread and sounded like kids giggling and felt like a soft blanket on a cold night.

But none of that had anything to do with the way he snapped. So why bring it up, really?

“Sorry,” Harry whispers, tucking his hands beneath his bum. “That… I didn’t mean. I’m sorry. I just meant that we don’t see each other much, and…” He lets out a slow breath. Best to stop talking before he digs himself deeper.

“I forgive you,” Ginny says quietly. A full second passes before she offers him a smirk. “As long as I can still call you Pookie Pie in front of the neighbors.”

Harry blinks at the carpet with a sad smile. “Deal.”

[anxiouspotatorants]

heyy first off im obsessed w your account and the underdog quartet but also i feel like, with your new jess/paris playlist post, we need to acknowledge paris and jess’s first interaction when paris went into luke’s diner in “Richard goes to stars hollow” they had a very subtle interaction but he was clearly memorable enough to her to remember him and his name. I wonder if whenever paris when to stars hollow in the future she would look for jess what do you think

Thank you so much for this ask and the kind words!!! I’m obviously obsessed with UQ too, so finding more people who love that dynamic is just amazing!

Also yes we only had about two direct interactions between Paris and Jess but holy shit was the platonic chemistry there!! Paris bothering to remember him is something I would love to take as a sign that she was a Jess gal (especially since if you combine that with Keiko Agena saying she and Lane are team Jess, that means all my faves support my ship!)

Now for Jess and Paris specifically, I could honestly give you three different types of answers for this. First is that ASP and company didn’t feel like exploring that dynamic, so Paris probably doesn’t think about Jess or seek him out in the future, especially not after Rory’s break up. But that take is boring so let’s go for wild headcanons!

The second approach is on the more realistic side. I bet that Paris would avoid bringing up Jess every time he popped into her mind in front of Rory, but she would be too desperate to finally have that decent conversationalist to not bug Rory about him. She probably wouldn’t head over to Stars Hollow of her own accord considering how disappointed she was with the research results for that article, but she would ask about when Jess could come over to Hartford so she could rip his literary takes to shreds at a nearby cafe or at the elder Gilmores. Once Jess and Rory were a couple, Paris would double down on her requests but probably only have them met once or twice (Jess has work, Rory still has a tendency to compartmentalize parts of her life etc.). Post-breakup Paris would take Rory’s side, but secretly be sad to see a potential friend go. She probably felt like this guys really could be something, not just for Rory who seemed to finally get decent taste in boys, but for Paris who was finally starting to get more true friends. She carries a secret team Jess torch for the rest of the series but hides it in general criticism of any and all guys Rory is involved with.

On to approach three, aka balls to the walls whatever I want!! Hold on to your hat because this will be a long and windy ride:

After the diner-meet, Paris is intrigued by the guy who played along with her interrogation and eye-flirted with Rory. She doesn’t think she’ll see him again, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t want to.

After the dinner at Rory’s, Paris is honestly elated to finally have a great literary conversation with a guy her age. The only one to have come close is Rory, and that doesn’t say much for the «opposite sex» in Paris’ eyes. But she’s also furiously disagreeing with Jess’ «Austen loves Bukowski»-take, so she writes a whole several page argumentative essay and forces Rory to deliver it to Jess the next school day.

Jess responds not with a letter, but by having Rory hand Paris an annotated («blasphemy!») copy of a Bukowski work. There are no arguments from Jess notes, just underlines of quotes he thinks Austen would approve of, and excerpts from different Austen works put in the margins for comparison. Paris despises him for how much she is seeing his point.

At some point Rory get’s sick of being a carrier pigeon and drags Paris with her to ST after school so the two can fight in person. All three stay until Lorelai pops over for dinner, and Paris realizes she needs to haul herself over to the bus. She’s hungry and worried about the time she should have spent on homework, but ultimately really happy about the day.

She’s bummed to see Jess go after the car accident, but doesn’t have much time to think about it between school and… well, school. She does end up being one of the few Rory can talk to about Jess without getting the whole «bad bad boy»-speech she gets over in ST and at her grandparents’.

Rory doesn’t tell Paris Jess is back until the very end of their Washington trip when Paris finds the unfinished letter and Paris is boiling. She does cool quickly, but only to constantly bug Rory about when the three of them are going to meet up again for coffee and verbal war. Rory gets so stressed about it that at some point she gives Paris the number to Luke’s and tells her to go on her own for all Rory cares.

Paris does. Jess is surprised, but they get in the groove quick. What doesn’t go as smoothly is Paris asking what the hell is going on between him and Rory. His non-answers pretty much spell everything out, and in a rare moment of comradery, Paris decides to turn the conversation in to hating on Dean. Jess appreciates it. It doesn’t happen again, but Paris firmly puts herself in the team Jess camp from then on.

Paris is releived once Jess and Rory finally are together and it is great! More cafe talks! Study sessions! Movie nights! They even sneak both Paris and Lane out into concerts! Paris feels like for the first time in a very long time, she has real friends her own age. The kind who actually like you for you and want to spend time with you for you, not just to get better grades or a better reputation.

Paris sucks at being strong for Rory when Jess leaves. Like, she takes it really personal. This was supposed to be the one good guy, and he decided to be just like everyone else. But with time she learns to coach Rory into speaking her mind about the whole thing, and to support her in her own Paris-y way.

What she doesn’t tell Rory is that at some point after summer break (either because she gets hold of Jess for some scolding or because Lane does and spills to Paris or even if Jess gets in touch himself) Jess starts sending Paris beat up books he collects on the road around the country. None of them feature letters (at first), but annotations at the beginning declaring his safety and momentary location, as well as his general style annotations of the book inside the text. Paris starts responding with letters, and with time they start talking on phones and through email.

Paris helps Jess with his GED. They make it an equal study-buddy thing because Paris needs help taking certain writers seriously in her essays. Most of their sessions are over the phone, and a lot of it is just them daring each other to actually try. Paris gets actual stars on her improved essays, and Jess passes with flying colours.

Paris doesn’t know about Truncheon until Jess stands in front of her place ages later, dressed like a Kids Bop version of himself and holding a messengerbag with his debut novel. Paris tears through it in two hours (forcing Jess to sit on the couch next to her the whole time) and then spends another half hour furiously trying to tear it to shreds but actually praising it. She gives him their first hug ever, and hopes this afternoon is a sign they’ll slowly get back to being close friends in person.

Paris sucks at hiding how team Jess she is. So. Much. She does have genuine critiques of Logan and other guys, but her gut-defenses of Jess at random times in the day and weird reminiscing back to the «good old days» of diner talk after school gives her away immediately. Rory is uncomfortable, but Paris doesn’t even change her mind after Rory still picks Logan.

What she does do is invite Jess over for grown up evenings with Doyle. Whenever Rory is scheduled to be out and Jess needs to visit Luke anyway, Paris extends her invitation. They test wines based on price and taste, watch cult classics, eat takeout (in honour of Paris’ very first Mac and Cheese night) and talk for hours. One day wires cross and Jess gets in while Rory is there/Rory gets back while Jess is there and things get awkward.

Paris invites Jess to the graduation. Yes she has a limited amount of tickets and yes it’s weird to invite your friend who has barely been around ever but damn it she wants him there. He came to her when he was celebrating his accomplishments, she wants him to be there for hers.

They actually grow even closer as adults; emailing, texting and calling regularly. About 70% of it is general banter and picking on everything and everyone around them, but it’s a far more loving kind now — not that anyone who isn’t them would know, from the outside it looks like they want to kill each other. Regardless of outcome, Paris remains forever team Jess, and the two end up having each other’s backs for life.

So this went long and away from the point (and I only went through Paris’ pov!) but it was fun to write! I hope you like rant answers!

[luvlyrv]

Another Dance (Duel Pt. 2) | Seulgi x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, knight!au

Summary: Seulgi has taught you how to dance, but now she needs to teach you what this new feeling brewing in your chest means.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Sorry this took a while to get out. Thank you again to my editor I always love your suggestions. I hope everything in this follow up makes sense.

Date: 5/9/21

Click here to read part one

Perhaps these last few months of your life have been the best. Despite the fact that training has been more brutal due to your nearing graduation into knighthood, every moment has felt brighter than the past several years of your life. Maybe all? You can’t remember ever waking up to a feeling like this all the time.

Yes, this feeling right here in your chest. The feeling you get when you wake up startled and in a frenzy from a dream of spending a day with Seulgi. A life with Seulgi. It’s the feeling that you get when she asks for your hand so that the two of you can make a fool of yourselves dancing. The strange way your chest seems to contract and hurt when Seulgi sneaks a smile while the commandment screams orders at you.

Since when did you feel like this? You’re not sure. Maybe it was that one night the two of you spent together weeks ago, where you finally felt confident enough to lead the dance for once. You had pulled her close with a bold move you didn’t even plan to make, making Seulgi give you a shocked look before glancing away, barely catching her soft smile. Maybe she was proud of you in that moment, you don’t know. You don’t know anything anymore besides Seulgi, besides the fact that you were hyper aware of her breath that night. Of the way her garments clung so close to skin, the rise and fall of her chest, the length of her eyelashes, the slope of her nose.

Every day you’re greeted by the sunrise, only to be anticipating its set.

Before you can spend your cherished time with Seulgi though, you had to go through the motions of your day. Time seemed to pass slowly as you sparred and trained. Nowadays though there was a lightness in your body that wasn’t there before, and your eyes had become better at reading the flowing movements of your opponents. You were ecstatic to see your improvement, likewise were the commanding officers and fellow apprentices, it seemed. Some officers urged you to continue to carry out whatever it was that you were doing to improve and to finally displace Seulgi. Meanwhile the knights-in-training were muttering among themselves about your progress and how it was done.

To say that you were happy that morning training ended would be an understatement. The second highlight of your day would be the precious half hour you spent with Seulgi during your afternoon meal. As you impatiently wait in line to be served whatever was deemed nutritious for prospecting knights, you think about how you were just a couple months ago. After spending some time with Seulgi you wanted to somehow be even closer to her, to spend time beyond the midnight dances you two shared.

When you had first decided to sit next to Seulgi instead of by your lonesome, you were uncharacteristically nervous. You were sure that if people looked carefully enough they could have noticed how your steady sword-arm shook as you held onto your tray of food. People didn’t hide their raised eyebrows at your approach, some people left the area, terrified at the thought of you possibly coming over to terrorize them.

It was a surprise when you had quietly asked if it was okay for you to seat yourself next to Seulgi. She didn’t hesitate to say yes, flashing you her crescent eyes you had unknowingly grown accustomed to. The surrounding witnesses to the sight were confused. When would you have willingly associated with anyone? Especially Seulgi, and in such a shy manner?

When you finally get your meal you walk towards the familiar table and remember your present day situation. Now that time has passed people are less wary around you and how you seemingly lack the intention to verbally abuse and berate people. In fact, when you began to take Seulgi’s advice of smiling more people seemed to… like you? It helped that you lost most of your competitive streak, instead favoring to focus on yourself and what you can do. Mostly your dancing, though, as you yearned to impress Seulgi more each and every night.

The clank of your tray against the wooden aging table alerts Seulgi of your presence. Quickly turning her head away from the person she was talking to, she opens her mouth to greet you. That was until Markus, a man who came from a noble family with notable enough skills, called out for you. You move to face the source of his voice, only to notice him uncomfortably close to your side. It was odd for him to suddenly appear when you swore you didn’t notice him on your way over.

“Hey, I was just wondering if you’d like to duel me in the afternoon? You know, since we haven’t gotten an opportunity to do so for the past couple weeks. Maybe go on a walk afterwards?” He throws you a shy, maybe even a cheeky smile. If there was one thing you knew about him it was that you’ve had much more encounters with him than you’d like recently, and that smile of his was one he’d thrown at other female trainees in the past. If anything, he was merely a passing thought.

“Sure, I don’t care.” You say in your signature neutral tone. Hoping that he’d leave you alone now, you began to turn back to Seulgi. Your movement is stopped when Markus puts his hand on your shoulder and swipes a finger across your cheek.

“You had some dirt there from practice. Just wanted to get it off.” He grins tortuously wide before excusing himself from the table. You sigh, and when you finally get to look at Seulgi she has a raised brow, her mouth forming a tight line. Not sure what to do at her sudden change of mood, you pick at your food a bit. You feel like you can’t eat anything under her intense stare.

You’re starting to feel nervous until Seulgi decides to tap on your shoulder. Glancing up from your plate you see her with a handkerchief in hand.

“I think," she pauses, "Markus made it worse, actually.” She adds before gently rubbing the dirt that became spread across your face. You scrunch your nose and eyes but a small smirk forms in affection.

“Does it really matter, though? I don’t care about how I look.”

“I think you look cuter without it. And more hygienic.”

**

After your meal came your academic and strategical studies. Your brain dulls into mush after countless hours of toiling over geography and the endless ways a person can kill someone. Although you still do well in a more scholar-like learning environment, your body greatly preferred the battlefield. You let out a sigh of happiness when you were allowed to stretch and start another round of sparring.

Keeping to your promise, you await as you lean into your training sword until Markus shows up in your vision again. He walks towards you with such unnerving confidence and a grin you think is permanently scribbled on his face.

“Are you ready, my lady?”

“Don’t patronize me.” You mumble. The two of you back away from each other to an appropriate distance before getting into your stances. Some people gather around the scene, which wasn’t uncommon for your battles. They want to make a spectacle of your fight.

When you rush forward towards Markus you get a good stab straight in his stomach. His reflexes seemed almost slow, or at least much slower than yours or Seulgi’s. He lets out a grunt, but the training armor and his natural durability keeps him on his feet. In an attempt to make you fall, he swings his sword arm directly downwards towards your back. You easily sidestep and continue a relentless sequence of parries and hard smacks against his arms and legs.

This continues on for minutes on minutes, much longer than the vast majority of your fights. Markus has proven himself to be a bad fighter, and the only reason you haven’t won yet is the fact that your sword wasn’t made to kill and the fact that Markus has stupidly good endurance. It’s hard for you to keep fighting. Not because you were lacking stamina but on account of the monotony of his moves started to bore you greatly.

Your mind wanders as you automatically parry Markus’ pathetic slashes without much thought. You recall how you have to go on a walk with Markus when he slips a slight grin, but after that you can go about your day and eventually spend the night with Seulgi. You think about how her smile looks in the moonlight, how her hair bounces as you move to a make-believe rhythm. You unconsciously put on a broad grin as you hope she teaches you something new tonight.

You’ve let your attention slip for too long though. When you get a grip on reality again, you realize that you’re now on the ground and Markus’ blade is descending on your body. Your reaction allows you to bring up your sword to his, a loud clang traveling through the air. With all your might you push back, trying to angle your sword so his would slide off and break free from contact. It seems like you may be able to fend off his weapon for a second, but he yells as he delivers all of his strength into pushing down on you.

The force is more than enough to make your sword lose contact with his. With the blade right on your throat he throws on a victorious expression and screams in happiness. The crowd around you softly murmur as they look at each other. Markus drinks in his win and he looks at everyone and then at you.

“You’ve gone soft on me, haven’t you?”

“What? What do you mean?” You try to brush the dirt off your back as you get up.

“I mean, why would you all of a sudden smile and let me win like that otherwise?” He chuckles with his words as he approaches you and places a hand on your back.

“I was just distracted.” You try to get away from him, but he gets closer and whispers in your ear.

“By me, right?” You hear a certain kind of joy and conceitedness in his voice that makes you want to vomit while simultaneously punching him.

“No. Now let's just get this walk done with so I can go shower or shoot my bow, or something.” At your words he shuffles away and uncomfortably leaves some space between the two of you as you go for a quick walk in the woods. Everybody watches as you two leave the area, and as you pass by you hear their whispers.

“…like him?”

“ …usually ruthless…why’d she let him win?”

“…was right…gone soft.”

You aren’t sure what to do about their theorizing or their mindless gossip, nor what to do with the man who was now clinging onto your side. What was usually a peaceful and quiet trail for you became loud and annoying as Markus kept trying to flirt despite your silence and lack of response to his remarks. It was hard to appreciate the beauty in the trees and forest life over the talkativeness of the man next to you. If you could, you wouldn’t have gone on a walk with him, but you felt like it was dishonorable of you to break an appointment or promise.

You think that next time you should bring Seulgi with you instead, it would be a pleasant experience then.

After what felt like a century of walking, you had finally looped around the trail and made it back to the beginning of the forest. You continue to trek forward and almost leave Markus behind, but he grips onto your waist and looks at you for a moment. The tinge of expectancy that gleamed in his eyes, and that's when you knew. You watch in a panic as he flutters his eyes and brings his lips to yours.

There’s a ringing in your ears from how hard you slap him.

“Don’t.” You say while walking away from him.

You decide that you should go to the shower to wash off his filth, then go to the archery range to practice shooting his face in your head.

**

It would be a lie to say you weren’t sore from the amount of work you forced upon your body today. As you hunker towards the barracks though, a sudden burst of energy renews the feelings in your limbs when you find Seulgi patiently awaiting you like always. The area clears out of people until it’s just you and Seulgi. She comes by your side to walk with you towards the field.

Your dance begins and you drink in the comfortable silence until Seulgi decided to speak.

“So, Markus, how do you feel about him?” There’s a sense of inquisitiveness that you haven’t heard from her before.

“Hm? He’s just a person.” She makes a face at your answer, scrunching her eyebrows as she pushes further,

“Really? You know, when I finished my practice match and walked around everybody was talking about the two of you… you know. How you’re a thing or something.”

“Just a misunderstanding.” You assert, but Seulgi seems to want to hear more.

“Do you not like him? What about anybody else? I feel like everybody is dying for your attention these days.” With the last sentence there’s a subtle shift to a sadder, even disgruntled tone in her voice. You watch as she bites her lip waiting for an answer, entranced enough to almost forget to reply. The insecurity was hard to ignore.

“I don’t really talk to anyone besides you, Seulgi, and I don’t know why people bother. Maybe they just respect my abilities and think now that I’m friendlier I’d be interested in a conversation. Also, you aren’t one to talk. You’ve had people following you around and worshipping you since day one.” Thinking about it, you can‘t ever remember a time where Seulgi didn’t have someone by her side.

Another wave of silence envelopes you as Seulgi finally nods, maybe settling with this answer. Or at least is mulling over your words. As she takes the time to think, you remember the events that happened earlier in the day and the question that had been bothering you.

“By the way, are you making me soft?”

You interrupt the dance you shared by taking a step back. You cock your head in examination. Recently it’s been hard to tell if Seulgi’s influence over you had been helpful or harmful. Especially since there were instances where you almost completely lost your focus like you did today.

“Where is this coming from?” She asks while putting on a confused smile, as if to say ‘excuse me?’.

“Well, obviously I’m more approachable now because of your advice, but now you’re getting in the way of my fighting.”

“Huh?” Seulgi is taken aback by your words and how you state them so matter-of-factly.

“Sometimes I lose focus in the middle of fights now. They accused me of becoming soft.”

“How can I possibly be at fault for that?”

“Well, it’s you that I think about. All the time.” You reach out for her hand, gently tugging it towards you and then onto your chest. “And you make my heart beat real fast. Faster than any running commandment has made us done. It kind of hurts my chest, really. Have you casted a spell on me too?”

You feel Seulgi’s hand tremble in a quake.

“Y/N, are you joking right now?”

“No, I just want to know, why do I feel like this all the time around you?” Looking at Seulgi’s face you spot how the tips of her ears turned a bright red, despite the darkness of the night. Your other hand pulls back her hair so you can examine it further. With a worried look you ask, “Oh, are you cold? Should we go back inside?” You panic a little as you see the pink had spread onto the rest of her face.

“You…” Seulgi’s breath has quickened, and she rescinds her hand from yours. You’re worried you’ve done something wrong as Seulgi refused to even look at you, instead she's staring at her feet. “You like me, stupid.” The dramatic atmosphere turns lighthearted as she laughs boisterously.

“Huh? Is that what this means?”

“Are you being serious with me?” Seulgi keeps laughing at you, much to your frustration.

“Yes! I am! I don’t understand! I’ve never felt this way before, that’s why I have to ask.” Your face lapses to a pout and that seems to encourage her to keep laughing at you.

“Hey, stop pouting!” Her laughing reduced to giggles as she walked closer to you. She brings her hands forward as they cup your face. Your knees feel weak, buckling at the warmth in her hands and the care they seemed to radiate. She finally calms down when she asks you, “Now, if you really like me then tell me," she sucks in a quick breath," would you like to kiss me right now?”

For a second you’re frozen, but soon enough you bashfully nod your head a little too hard.

Her lips reach yours and you instantly smile. The lips that you’ve stared at for hours, the ones that say the words that have moved you the most, the ones that curve adorably and ignites the dormant happiness within you. You stay that way for a moment that both felt like forever and like no time at all. Seulgi breaks away before kissing each of your cheeks.

“Oh,” she sighs while staring at you, “you’ve made me the happiest person in the world.”

[acciofanfics]

Say Please (George Weasley x Reader) SMUT

Request: Any chance you could do one o f the weasley twins and a slytherin reader. From enemies to lovers with a nsfw

Pairing: George Weasley x FemReader

Warnings: Bad language words and smut

Word Count: 2567

A/N: So I hope this fits in with the request, the timeline is a little rushed. Also, I normally prefer Fred myself, but my partner in crime loves George so I figured I’d try writing for him 😂 -S

—————————————————————

Honestly, (Y/N) rarely caused much trouble. It might’ve come to a surprise to some of the close minded Gryffindors, but not all Slytherins lived to torment their class mates. In this particular moment she wondered how her house ended up with the poor reputation, because she would not be in detention if it hadn’t been for those annoying Weasley twins. She shot a glare over at... she thought it was George. “3 days. 3 days detention because of you and your brother! Could you have not at least waited until after class? I’m not sure what it is that warranted the abuse to begin with but no that wasn’t enough detention to?!”

Fred and George never thought too much about detention. They mostly didn’t get caught, but there were always a few hiccups and they’d learned the best way to deal was grin and bear it... it did suck that McGonagall was aware the punishment did little to deter them. It was her policy that they had to be separated during detention, she thought they had too much fun otherwise. Poor Fred... he was stuck in Snape’s classroom alone. Not that George much cared for the girl scolding him, “If it’s any consolation we weren’t even aiming for you. It’s hardly our fault you decided to sit next to that git Clark.”

As far as apologies went. That was a rotten one, but she supposed it did provide some comfort. If she were being frank, she didn’t really care for her desk mate either. He often snuck looks at her parchment and tried to correct her or offer his help to even the slightest mistake. It was so condescending, and he rarely knew what he talking about. She tried to imagine what it would like if he had been the one to open the exploding note. “Well, I guess that does clear some things up. Maybe you should work on your aim.”

“Well you can blame Fred on that, he’s the one with the bad aim.” George chuckled although he had to admit it wasn’t nearly as fun to pick on his slightly older brother when he wasn’t there to disagree with him.

“Well who’s the brains of the operation because it wasn’t the brightest plan to start with?”

Yeah, George definitely didn’t enjoy the company that much. She might’ve been pretty, but that seemed to be the only thing she had going for her. A sense of humor? Definitely not. An eye for genius? Clearly lacking. Sure the exploding note had been delivered to the wrong target and landed them all detention, but it got a great response. Lots of laughs. “Agree to disagree.”

“Well you don’t have to agree with me, I’m still right. You got a few kids to laugh, you missed your target, there’s no lasting effect really and had it been Clark who opened it you would’ve been spending detention with him for 3 days. Since you called him a git I’m guessing you three aren’t that close.” Her voice was so matter-of-fact, and so annoying. It also didn’t sit right with George that she might’ve gotten a few details right.

“Well what would be your brilliant plan?”

“Oh I don’t have one.” (Y/N) stopped her cleaning (no magic, because it was a punishment) and looked at George. He thought she was smiling for a split second, but upon further inspection it was definitely a smirk. “Of course I haven’t put any thought what so ever into it. I guarantee that I could come up with a better one though.”

The next day George cursed the fact he had detention again... it didn’t seem fair that it was only him that had to share it with (Y/N). When he asked Fred to go in his place, Fred told him the fact that he asked him to trade was proof enough he didn’t want to trade. Thankfully Professor McGonagall had a task for them that required a little more concentration and therefor less time he actually had to speak to the girl.

“I’ve done some thinking and I think I figured it out.”

George snickered at her thought. McGonagall had them grading first-years parchments. They should’ve definitely known the information already, but she left them an answer key just in case. “Well, I’d hope so. You’ve been looking at the answers for the past 30 minutes.”

She rolled her eyes, and didn’t bother looking up from the parchment. “Ha ha. I meant I figured out what I think would be a numerous prank for Clark.”

“Oh do tell...” George sighed, not at all interested, but willing to humor her all the same.

“I’ve spent an unfortunate amount of time with him, and I’d say he fancies himself more than anyone else. I’ve been paying a bit more attention, since our last conversation and I’ve noticed anytime he passes a mirror he checks his hair. I think you should do some sort of charm to mess with his hair. Even if it’s fixed relatively quickly he’ll be furious.”

Hmmm.... maybe? “What if it wasn’t a charm?”

“A potion might have a longer lasting effect... but how would you give it to him without him knowing something is up?”

“Maybe slip it in his drink?”

“He’d see it and none of us he likes enough to not suspect something and immediately know who it was.”

“Do you think it’d be possible to hide it in some sweets? Sign it from a secret admirer? He’s too arrogant to turn it down.”

George hadn’t meant to honestly give what she said too much thought and there he was:planning out a whole prank with the girl. Fred would feel so betrayed, until it worked at least. Maybe she wasn’t as bad as he originally thought, but he still didn’t know if he liked her that much. Plus she was probably all talk.

Finally it was day 3, the end of their torturous sentence. It couldn’t come fast enough, especially since they had to clean again. George had shared the information he’d gathered from (Y/N) with Fred and he was all in. As much as he hated that they didn’t think of it, a good joke was a good joke.

“So it might interest you to know that I’ve acquired most of the ingredients to brew a hair raising potion. I just need one more thing I can nab tomorrow.”

Wow. Honestly he hadn’t expected her to really go through with it, much less steal the ingredients. “We haven’t even gotten out of detention yet and you’re already trying to get back in. You’re gonna miss me, huh?”

“Oh come off it. If you and your brother want to help, I’m going to set up in the girls bathroom on the second floor tomorrow night after dinner.”

There would’ve been no problem with that plan whatsoever. Sneaking out hadn’t ever been a problem since Fred and George snagged the Marauder’s Map in their first year, and even though they’d given it to Harry they still had most of the secret passages memorized. No, the problem that Fred had landed himself an extra day of detention. It wasn’t a secret that Snape didn’t like them, but it seemed unlikely that Fred really had done NOTHING to provoke him. He honestly couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit annoyed at his twin for leaving him to walk into that bathroom alone...

“Where’s Fred? I thought you two did everything together?” (Y/N) teased as she pulled a cauldron out of one of the stalls and gathered all of her supplies around the surrounding area. George was just a bit surprised that she actually recognized it was him. They’d tricked their own mother more than once, and she’d caught on in 3 days time?

“You know Snape, he’s got it out for us. Fred took the brunt of it today,” George shrugged and drew closer to her, ready to offer his assistance. “Look on the bright side, now you have me all to yourself.”

“Yay...” Her voice was less than enthusiastic, but a small smile played on her lips none the less. “Well don’t just stand there, hand me those rat tails.”

George had to admit that it wasn’t nearly as bad as he imagined. While, he was starting to come to the conclusion he might’ve misjudged her, he was now sure that was the case. He’d even gotten her to laugh! Surprisingly it was a good laugh too, one of the ones that were highly contagious. Brewing the potion didn’t take nearly as much time as he thought, and it wasn’t long at all before (Y/N) was giving it a final stir. “Now it just has to set for about an hour. I suppose after that we just need to put it in some candy and give it to him?”

“Seems simple enough, once we figure out the best place to leave it that will make sure he gets it.”

“I’ll leave it outside his room.” (Y/N) stated simply. It only made sense that she would, she was in the same house and the magical enchantments that the school was founded had a pretty backwards, but beneficial rule on the dorms. Girls could get into the boys dormitory quite easily, so I’d wouldn’t be a problem.

George couldn’t place it, but he didn’t know how thrilled he was with that part of the plan. There were other ways: like leaving it on a table in the great hall... or visiting the owlery? “What if you get caught?”

“I suppose I’m no stranger to detention now, am I? Don’t worry I don’t plan on letting you guys take credit for my brilliance, I won’t snitch.”

“It wasn’t that!” He didn’t know why it was so important she didn’t think he was worried about that, but it seemed like it was relevant in that moment.

(Y/N)’s smirk came back when she saw his cheeks turning just the slightest tint of red. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but there was the possibility she didn’t hate the twins as much as she did when she first opened that blasted note. Well, George at least (she hadn’t been forced to spend time with Fred). And it wasn’t like she was blind, he was attractive. Plus she hadn’t even planned any payback for him ruining her reputation in McGonagall’s class... it wouldn’t hurt to tease him just a bit. Really, he kind of deserved it. “We have an hour to kill... I wonder what we should do?”

George tensed ever so slightly when she leaned closer to him and batted her eye lashes. She was definitely on to him. Damn, well he wasn’t usually one to back down from a challenge. Usually he had his brother for backup, but that wouldn’t do him any good here and honestly he no longer desired to have Fred’s company... at least at the moment. “Well, I have a few ideas... we are alone.”

(Y/N)’s confidence didn’t waver, she expected a bit of stubbornness from him. Instead she climbed into his lap, her knees resting not so comfortably on the cool tile. Her forwardness seemed to catch him off guard slightly, but he quickly regained composure and smirked at her. It took a good bit of effort not to roll her eyes, but she managed. “Well don’t just sit there.”

George knew he was falling into a trap, but to be honest at that moment he didn’t quite care. He didn’t need to be told twice and he captured her lips in a lip bruising kiss. It was almost instantaneous that they both seemed to forget they they didn’t fancy either other. Her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands found her thighs, where he began to pull her against him.

It took no time for a sweet kiss to start burning into something more. No, it was more like someone throwing a match into gasoline: an immediate explosion. Her hips moved willingly against him, both enjoying the friction and she didn’t even think twice about George snapping open the buttons on her blouse. It gave her the idea to start on his shirt.

(Y/N) shivered when George helped her out of her bra. The cool air making her arch herself into him even further, but the cold didn’t last long because George began placing feverish kisses all over the newly exposed skin. Her moans definitely did something for him, even if it was just a confidence boost he nipped a bit harder or his grip on her skin got tighter. Normally, George might worry about leaving a hand shaped bruise on her arse, but he was far too focused and seeing how loud he could make her.

(Y/N) awkwardly reached between them and started to undo his trousers. George was willing to pull his hands away from her briefly to help her accomplish her goal. She leaned up, just enough for him to be able to wiggle his trousers and underwear down enough to free his erection. It wasn’t the most graceful thing they’d done, but she hiked up her skirt and pulled her panties to the side so she could sink down onto him.

The two let out a moan in unison and George grabbed hold of her hips, “Bloody hell...”

(Y/N) wasn’t sure what exactly came over her, other than a mixture of satisfaction and lust. “Say you’re sorry for getting me detention.”

Was she kidding? “Seriously?” When she started to lift herself up, he quickly changed his tune. “I’m sorry!”

She quickly dropped herself back down, earning another moan from the redhead underneath her. Of course having his cock buried deep inside her felt amazing, but having a bit of control made it feel even better. “Say please.”

George didn’t even think twice about obliging her order. The word spilled from his lips before he could even comprehend what he was saying, but he didn’t care. The plea made her move against him finally and he would say anything to keep her bouncing on his cock. Clearly she knew it too and that was enough to keep her satisfied because she kept it up.

It was somewhere between an eternity and a few minutes, before she felt herself getting close. It was harder to keep it up her rhythm, and George must’ve noticed because he started to use the grip on her hips to his advantage by lifting her and pulling her back down. She stopped abruptly, “If you want something from me, you need to ask.”

“Please?”

“Please what?” (Y/N) purred into his ears, rolling her hips.

“Please let me fuck you...” George’s voice was needy and he was so scared that she would tell him no. It was an instant relief when she muttered an okay against his skin.

Before (Y/N) could even register what was happening her back hit the frigid tile and George’s hips were snapping against hers hard and fast and she was seeing stars. So close... so close... she was coming undone. “George!”

It was no time, before he finished. Her orgasm fast-tracking his. He had to let his breathing steady before he could speak, “I think that should be a regular occurrence. We are way too good for it to be a one time thing.”

He laughed when she winked at him, “Well you know what to say.”

[ilkkawhat]

"How long have you had this planned?" "Since the moment I fell in love with you."

(For MacDalton)

[two things: one, this is like the first time I've written them in over three months so I apologize if I'm a bit rusty and two: I just straight up invented a new music venue for the sake of plot. I hope you enjoy Nade!!!]

If there’s one thing Jack’s learned in all of his years of knowing Angus Macgyver, it’s that for certain anniversaries; be it birthdays, deathdays, randomly constituted holidays mostly created on Jack’s behalf such as Bruce Willis’ birthday or the day Die Hard premiered in theaters, it’s that Mac is very...picky when it comes to his sentiments.

He loves a good party, sure, but doesn’t necessarily enjoy birthdays—at least his own, because he still always puts forth effort for others’ to ensure they have a good time.

He believes in Santa Claus, with what he thinks is irrefutable scientific proof, but doesn't believe in the other innocent childish entities such as the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny, agreeing with Jack that the Tooth Fairy is nothing more than a unwanted home invader in the form of a lying parent and the Easter Bunny is just downright made to terrify children with mall photos.

Hell, he at times even downplays the importance of Cairo Day, willing to work instead of lazing around the deck with a six pack and bags of takeout delivered by Jack himself—and while there really was an emergency this time around that left both of them bruised and battered and shaken with the sight of a gutshot Bozer, it ended up being the perfectly bided time for something he’s had planned for, well...for a long while, now.

That, and he’ll be able to kill two birds with one stone, embarking on a road trip to find a long lost father that he already knew Jack would join him on before he even said a single word, and in turn take Jack on a trip he never quite expected to have. One without any hiccups, not even an improvisation. Perfectly planned and tailored to the man he both owes his life to, and wants to devote his life to.

He asks Jack to take a pit stop on their cross-country road trip—immediately dispelling Jack’s insistence of hitting up the casinos in Vegas with teasing argument that he’d lose all of their money for food and gas no matter how many times Jack explains that he knows the “system,” but once their banter fades back into the comfortable silence, he directs Jack past the state of Nevada and into the southerner’s own home state—the Lonestar state.

“Texas? You really think Daddy Mac might be hiding in a hole in Texas?”

Mac shrugs coyly and Jack grins.

“Don’t matter anyhow, been wantin’ to take you back down here anyway. Mama’s missed having a scrawny kid to cook for,” Jack teases with a wink.

“Well good, cause we gotta swing by your casa and pick somethin’ up real quick,” Mac puts on a faithful imitation of the Texan’s accent, and Jack beams.

“Going native, huh, hoss? What do we gotta pick up?”

“Your guitar.”

“My guitar?” Jack’s eyes narrow behind the large yellow lens of his aviators and gives up trying to ask why because Mac keeps his lips sealed.

They just keep driving instead, down a long country road with the appropriate tunes to accompany this feeling; Mac’s hair flowing in the wind, Jack casually driving with one hand on the wheel and the other on Mac’s knee, a wide grin on both of their faces as they watch the sun set and the beautiful unseen stars in the sky rise out to greet them.

And a robot in the backseat, but he’s smart enough to know when to stay quiet and just enjoy the moment.

They make it to Jack’s home, an intended short visit turns into almost an entire day and while Mac is never the one to make excuses to leave, he tries to come up with as many as he can to make it to their destination on time.

Fortunately, he also got Mama Dalton and Jack’s sister in on it too, which does make it just a little easier and Mac promises that they’ll come back on the way home after nearly having to drag Jack out of the beloved ranch home.

He won’t be so grumpy once he sees what I got planned, Mac has to remind himself, because his light layer of deception does hurt him as much as it hurts Jack.

Another reason he wasn’t a fan of the “surprise” element of having a birthday. There’s an almost malicious level of teasing to making sure the birthday boy or girl doesn’t suspect a thing.

But he knows Jack, and knows he has to be suspecting something, evident by his sudden bitterness in their usually laid back banter.

“You’re just getting tired of driving is all,” Mac tries to reason with him.

“Me? I ain’t tired. You’re the one who’s tired, want me to tuck you in the back?” Jack sneers.

“How am I supposed to give you directions then?”

“I got Spanky back there—”

“Sparky.”

“Whatever. And where is it that we’re going anyway, Mac?”

“Up there,” Mac smiles when he sees the building in the distance, the GPS on his phone indicating they’re only mere minutes away.

“Wuh—No. No!” Jack gapes and Mac burst out in glee. “What are we doing at the Armadillo II?”

The Armadillo II, being a freshly renovated bar and music hall was built as an homage to the Amradillo World Headquarters, which Jack often talked about having gone to as a young kid, wishing it had lasted longer before being turned into an office building—something he often compared to the transition of childhood to adulthood itself.

“Beer and music, what else would you do?”

“Yeah, but I mean, how does this relate to…”

“It doesn’t. It’s just for you. For us,” Mac grips Jack’s hand and gently kisses him on the cheek. “Making up for Cairo Day.”

“Aw, gee, Mac,” Jack’s eyes are glistening, his teeth shining under the bright moonlight in the brightest smile. “You shouldn’t have!”

They’re greeted by a bouncer who holds up a hand to Jack’s chest as he was ready to strut his way in.

“Tickets,” the bouncer grunts.

“Ah, damn, don’t have ‘em on me, but I know the owner—” Jack starts to ramble, ready to sneak their way in but surprisingly, Mac has two ticket stubs.

“Where’d you get those?”

“From my pocket,” Mac says simply and pushes Jack into the building.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the concert will begin in fifteen minutes, please fill you drinks and take your seats!”

“Concert, what concert?” Jack shouts as he takes in the room, taking the chair closest to the door at the table that Mac directs them to.

“See that banner?” Mac nods up to the stage.

Willie Nelson.

Jack knew of course, that Willie Nelson would occasionally come out for a concert or two, usually to fundraise for his acts of activism—and even if he couldn’t attend he’d always try to send some money for the cause, but never, and he really means never in his right mind did he ever think this would happen.

“I love you, Mac,” Jack breathes, and the concert begins.

A few songs in, Willie slows down to a gentle strum on his guitar, and the lights dim to match an intimate, romantic atmosphere.

“Now, this next song is called ‘A Song for You,’ although, it is my honor to make a slight alteration to the title for one of our country’s greatest unsung heroes. A guy with a name that sounds like it’d be on the menu at Carl’s Junior came up to me on the street the other day—”

The crowd laughs at the name joke, and so does Mac but Jack’s jaw is hung open, no sound coming out which makes Mac laugh even harder because he knows it’s all coming together.

“He told me his story, their story and well, now it’s my turn to tell y’all that story too. This here is a song for you, Jack Dalton.”

“No. Fucking. Way!” Jack breathlessly gasps, his fingers shaking, his eyes watery and red. Mac puts his hand on Jack’s knee, and Jack sandwiches it with his own. It’s not until the song is over that he’s able to speak again, wiping the tears from his eyes as the crowd applauds.

“When the hell didja manage to talk to Willie Nelson?”

“On my way back from Siberia. Made a pit stop.”

“And now, it’s my greatest pleasure to welcome onto the stage, the man himself—”

“Mac…” Jack starts slapping, clawing at Mac is if to bring him back to life because this sure as hell feels like he’s died and gone to heaven—though he knows, and Mac knows, that will never happen.

Jack Dalton will never die.

And even if he did, he’d never go into that light without Mac by his side, and because of that, because they’re alive, they both feel unstoppable, almost youthfully immortal in that sense—if they were going to die, they would have kicked the bucket by now, surely.

“Come on up here, Jack!” Willie calls and Jack just cannot believe it, especially not when that same bouncer comes up behind him holding his own guitar that he had stashed away in the back of his GTO.

“How long have you been planning this?” Jack asks wildly as he rises from his seat.

“Since the moment I fell in love with you,” Mac replies, and rises with him, sending him to the stage after a good luck kiss. “Which was basically when you played Willie Nelson every day in the Sandbox.”

[dystopiandilfs]

My opinion on the different Dream manipulating someone storylines.

Disclaimer: This isn't meant to shit on anyone as a creator or anyone's acting. This might be kind of negative but isn't meant to be offensive to any DreamSMP creator especially since the main ones I'm talking about are minors. This is just my thoughts and you can obviously disagree. I don't think that Dream as a person is a manipulative person so whenever I mention Dream I mean the SMP character unless I state otherwise.

This is mainly based off of my own experiences as someone who was manipulated and gaslighted for a lot of time by several people and as someone who is doing a human psychology degree.

First thing I want to say is I love Dream as a villain and will be a bit annoyed if they try to redeem him like in every cliché film or TV show. The only redemption arc I will accept is Dream being possessed by a Dreamon from way back since that storyline was set up before Dream was considered the main villain. However if the Dreamon storyline is used as a Dream redemption arc it has to be flawlessly written otherwise it will come off cringe.

~~Here's the short version: From best to worst storyline based on my opinion is Ranboo, Tubbo, Wilbur, Tommy, Ghostbur and Techno~~

So the first manipulated storyline I want to talk about is Wilbur. I love the fact that Dream used Wilbur's already messy mental health to play him and turn him against everyone and made him the villain. I think it was the original starting point of Dream's biggest villain trait being a manipulative person. I think it was mainly used to be a lead up to Dream manipulating Tommy and Tubbo. I would call this the Clingyduo test run. If Dream can turn Wilbur against Tommy then he can turn everyone including Tubbo against Tommy. It also helped to explain how Wilbur managed to get all the tnt and how he always managed to sneak into the L'Manberg to set it up as well as clearing up mainly plot holes. The acting was fairly decent especially since it's not scripted and wasn't an intentional plot point. I like the fact it was more behind the scenes manipulation since nobody knew how much Dream was actually controlling Wilbur and most people just assumed Wilbur was just going insane. It made it so nobody was weary of Dream as a manipulator which made the Tommy exile arc more impactful since nobody knew this side of Dream.

Next up is the Tubbo being manipulated by Dream storyline. I like this one mainly because it was from a different angle compared to Wilbur and Tommy's. Dream pretended to be Tubbo's friend to get the disc whilst simultaneously manipulating Tommy to suicide in exile. Dream would talk about how Tommy's been (obviously lying) and saying how much better Tommy and Tubbo are doing apart. Tubbo was getting gaslighted more than straight up manipulated. Dream was saying how much calmer and safer L'Manberg was now that Tommy's gone. Dream's aim with Tubbo was to make him see how much better things were without Tommy and how when Tommy's around Tubbo gets pushed about and Tommy being all of L'Manberg's problems like the wall being built because Tommy burned down George's lesbian mushroom cottage. At the same time as feeding all these ideas and thoughts to Tubbo he playing nice by helping build things, playing games and respecting L'Manberg rules. It's a very sly manipulation because Tubbo obviously told Quackity, Fundy and Ranboo about all his conversations with Dream and it made them slightly less weary of Dream as well as making them think worse of Tommy. It was a good way of showing different kinds of manipulation and how it isn't all painfully obvious. Also Tubbo having a storyline that doesn't revolve around Tommy is an instant win in my book

3rd storyline is Techno and Ghostbur. I'm grouping these together because they were smaller storylines and were similar in tactics. Dream told Techno about The Butcher Army as well as where to get a totem to hold a future favour above his head. Dream knew Tommy was at Techno's but chose to let it play out knowing that Tommy and Techno had very different morals and end goals. Even if they didn't end up butting heads Dream could use his favour to separate Techno and Tommy either by getting Techno to do something to upset Tommy (killing Tubbo) or getting Techno to appear like he's using Tommy to destroy L'Manberg. Making Tommy see Techno as another powerful manipulator. Dream used Ghostburs lack of memory to his advantage. Ghostbur didn't remember that Dream and Wilbur were teamed up or that Dream was using Wilbur which meant that Dream could once again manipulate Wilbur but as less insane, kinder Ghostbur. He used Ghostbur by pretending to be his friend and offering him thing such as food, friendship and shelter to get Ghostbur to trust him so when he tells Ghostbur that he'll (Dream) deliver Tommy's beach party invites Ghostbur sees nothing weird or wrong because to him Dream is helpful. Then he tells Ghostbur to go for a walk so he can make Tommy think that Ghostbur has abandoned him making it so Tommy only has Dream left.

Next is Tommy. Dream used the discs to manipulate Tommy for a long time. When the opportunity of exiling Tommy making him truly alone appeared Dream took it. Then the whole exile arc was Dream manipulating Tommy to the point of him being so isolated and alone he relied solely on Dream until Dream stopped playing games and was ridiculously blunt with Tommy making him want to commit suicide because his last friend wasn't even his friend and he'd lost everything and everyone. I think in my personal opinion this was one of the less believable manipulation arcs nothing against Tommy but it came off as a very textbook/TV show manipulator story where the victim gets close to death only for the manipulator to switch up and start exposing themselves. Manipulators are smart and people around them don't know someone's being manipulated. Yes I enjoyed the storyline but I think it dragged on for too long with no changes and the immediately shifted tones. I would have appreciated it if instead of Dream snapping at the community house and revealing everything in front of everyone, if Dream would start to slip up and Tommy started to notice then Dream slips up Infront of Techno and Phil, then Infront of Tubbo and other L'Manberg members. So it was a domino effect of people realising what was happening instead of everyone finding out at one and having no time to process. Everyone finding out at once because Dream told them sort of ruined it a bit for me. I still think it was an excellent storyline and they both acted their hearts out it just went from a cool individual storyline to a cliché villain speech where they reveal everything in time for people to stop all plans. (However bonus points for doing the non canon chill streams with Drista and Mexican Dream in-between)

Finally is Ranboo's. I absolutely love the irl Ranboo and irl Dream dynamic. They are both incredibly good at portraying their characters down to the little details of Dream changing his voice to Ranboo stuttering and shaking. I think it might be my second favourite storyline out of all of them (first being Egg because it's the only storyline to be mainly og members like Sam, BBH, Ant and Punz). I appreciate the amount of work and details that have gone into the story so far, including doing the prison but of a different server so they could use special effects and coding. The story has a very structured and strong foundation compared to every other storyline which is helped obviously by Ranboo being new. Going to be honest the streams sometimes trigger me because of how realistic they are from Dream being the manipulative voice in Ranboo's head to Ranboo having to question what's real and what's fake. Ranboo's convincing himself he blew up the community house purely because of the Dream voice in his head. The fact that both Dream and Ranboo gave had to do content warnings and trigger warnings should be enough to explain how good the acting is. Honestly where are their awards. (Yes this is me praising Ranboo and Dream but I genuinely love this storyline so much eventhough it's another Dream manipulating a minor storyline. It's done so well and you can tell how passionate both Dream and Ranboo are about Ranboo's lore and storyline. Favourite child much)