#i will make a list one day of the similarities between the two

[forestfiresandfics]

Foils and Mirrors

Another oft misconstrued literary technique is that of the foil. It may just be me misconstruing it though, considering I have to periodically look up the definition because I’ve gotten it confused again. Character foils are two characters who interact and by their interaction, their differences are highlighted. TV tropes describes it as ‘the foil behind a jewel to make it shine brighter’ but another way to look at it would be the way yellow shows up better on a black background compared to white. Foils are defined by their differences. Mirror characters are defined by their similarities. 

While I don’t think it’s wrong to call 3rd life Grian and Martyn foils per say, I think a more interesting reading is them as mirrors. And really, the two aren’t mutually exclusive. I’m getting ahead of myself. 

Third life features a lot of parallels, both in plot and character arc, and the Desert Duo and Renchanting are often pointed to when it comes to discussions of this. I think it’s worth also including Flower Husbands in that list as well. And every day I consider adding Cleo and Bdubs to that list as well, but I haven’t quite decided how well they work, so for now I’ll focus on just the three groups. I will often in my writing and musing and comments and stuff refer to these three pairs as the ‘red-green’ pairs, because they spend a protracted amount of time where one of them is on their green life and the other is on their red. Scar and Grian are the most extreme example of this, spending 5 and a half episodes like that. But the timing of it aside, what’s maybe more important is that each of these teams entered into the battle of the red desert as one red and one green each. A pivotal moment in the story where we also see everyone mirroring each other. 

I think it’s fair to view Desert Duo and Renchanting as mirrors, with the flower husbands acting as foils to the others. Each share enough in common that it’s worth discussing all three groups, but while the desert faction and the kingdom share basically the exact same plot lines and traits, the hobbits serve as something of an alternative option—what they ‘could have been.’ Also fun, is that the Flower Husbands spend nearly, but not quite, equal time with both other groups: doing their job well as foils in the context of contrast-via-interaction. They discuss their statuses and their plans, and as far as the reading of ‘desert duo: protagonists’ and ‘renchanting: antagonists’ go, the flower husbands are ideologically neutral for most of the series. They make friends where they can, call out bullshit where they see it, and it wasn’t until they were thrown into the war that they actually participated in taking sides. 

So what are the similarities between each, and what are the differences? The similarities come first. All three groups are red-green pairs. All three pairs have some kind of strong partnership, all three pairs have a scene where the red of the relationship offers fealty with a trinket (flowers for the husbands, flowers for the desert, and depending how you see it either the rabbit’s foot or the axe for the kingdom). As I suggested before, Desert Duo and Renchanting have even more in common. Both partnerships began because of a debt, both leaders are businessmen, both leaders are red and indentures green, both of the indentures are the “brains of the operation,” both indentures grumble their way through the partnership at first before becoming devoted, and both sit on either side of the server wide war—not just as participants but as the ringleaders. There is also literally even a scene where Martyn tells Ren to put his clothes back on (“me lord? Fancy putting your armour on?”). Frankly this is just scratching the surface, it’s insane how perfect mirrors they are. 

This similarity between the two main groups on the server really highlight the tragedy (lowercase t) of the death game, how these two groups ended up mortal enemies simply because of the world they live in, despite having more in common than differences. And the flower husbands as foils in my opinion ALSO make it sadder. While renchanting and desert duo are messing around with complicated hierarchical relationships and testing loyalty and ordering their partners around, the husbands are working together out of trust and respect. Scott starts out with his fellow greens in rejecting the partnership at first, but he demonstrates what mutualistic relationship should look like, not to mention a relationship that doesn’t make itself the whole server’s problem.

This is already getting long so I won’t get into this next bit too far, but while the red-green pairs foil and mirror each other, each pair also serves as a foil for themselves. Scar is confident while Grian is timid, Ren is trying to do a lot all at once while Martyn is organized and keeps him in line. Jimmy is friendly while Scott is matter of fact. All the reds end up acting as cloudcuckoolanders with the greens to bring them back down to earth and on track. They are all somewhat odd couples, they are very different from one another, and the juxtaposition of these differences highlights each other’s traits as well as their strengths and weaknesses. These partnerships are all advantageous, and they can each fill in for the other’s weaknesses. All three partnerships wouldn’t have made it as far as they did without each other. Not that this makes them idillic partners, they each have their flaws as well, but that’s not really the point. They each help the other shine, like the backing of a jewel. 

Masterlist

[aeroplaneblues]

Wine and Dine🍷✨

Aventurine surprised me, i really thought he looked ugly when was leaked, then we got to know him and one ojou-chan after im like “HE IS CHILDE” so ofc i think he looks ugly but love him dearly, im adopting him.

This is my second try at low key painter-y style, i like it better but its really hard on my arm🥲

[ozzgin]

More of the yandere monster???? Like their married life, him being such a cutie cutie and the reader is a willing person to his yandere tendencies. Like him physically fighting someone for flirting with her for .01 second and her just being 😍🥰

Alright anon, seeing as this has once again resurfaced, I'll cover a little bit of marital life as per your suggestion. (I'm hoping you're referring to the older sibling monster)

Yandere! Monster Husband x Reader

A little change of plans and the wedding you've been kidnapped for continued without a hitch, except you married the monstrous sibling instead. Made for an awkward celebratory dinner, but no one dared to oppose the Beast.

Content: female reader, monster romance, mildly NSFW, saga of the monster hoe reader continues

[First part]

The next family dinner was quiet. You couldn't help but wonder if your horniness had gone too far, slowly chewing your food and occasionally peeking at the ex-groom with remorseful eyes. Poor guy, you thought. "Well, it's quite convenient, isn't it?" he finally said, breaking the silence. The cutlery sounds paused, and you lifted your gaze again. The man flashed you a radiant smile, which emphasized his handsome features even more. "I mean, we weren't sure we'd ever find a wife for my brother. He has a bit of an attitude, and even monsters are afraid of him. The only marriage attempt-" his speech was interrupted by a grunt, and you turned towards your monstrous boyfriend. The older sibling was frowning, visibly embarrassed. "Oh, I remember!" the mother of the siblings, a halfling herself, suddenly chuckled into her glass, taking a generous sip before continuing: "We'd arranged for a fellow monster to meet him, and the poor soul got so frightened she blended in with the background! Took us two days to find her! She came from a chameleon family, I recall."

Everyone at the table began to laugh and you joined, although with a mild annoyance tinged into your voice. So what, there was no reason for you to be plagued by guilt? You even refused a night escapade with your boyfriend until things "settled", as a way to be respectful towards the cucked party. All for naught. At least now you could be ravaged without further consequences. When the mother in law had pulled you aside hours earlier to make sure you weren't coerced into this arrangement, you had to hold back from crassly confessing you'd slurp her son empty of fluids at any hour of the day. Some things are better left untold.

Unfortunately, one detail couldn't be changed in time: the guest list. As this had been an event meant to strengthen the ties between humans, no one outside of the immediate family graced the venue with their monstrous presence. Many guests were intrigued by the outcome of the affair, terribly curious to see the famed wife-to-be of the gruesome, feared Head of the royal army. Even more so once they discovered it was a regular human by all means. "Fascinating!", the old ladies would occasionally cry out, clutching the plump, expensive pearls adorning their necks. You had to frequently excuse yourself in order to dodge the rather indecent questions regarding your relationship. Except when you did manage to sneak away, one of the younger men of names and titles you never registered would approach you for a dance. "Truly a pitiful matter", they'd whisper much too close to your ear. "You would've made a lovely bride for a fellow human."

"You're unexpectedly calm about this", the prince mentioned to his older brother at some point during the wedding night. "Are you not bothered by all the acquaintances flocking to your bride?" The monster shook his head with a sigh. He hadn't known you for that long yet, but one thing he was certain of: it's not humans he needed to fear.

Indeed, having a wife with a monster kink is particularly challenging when most of the husband's work involves similar creatures. The first months after the marriage were stalked by the insidious doubt that his luck was just that: mere coincidence. Would you have displayed the same interest had he not been the only beast at the table? Would you still pick him in a room full of monsters? Such questions followed him each day, feeding into an ever-growing jealousy.

"What are you doing here!", he exclaimed in despair once he noticed your arrival at his training camp. "You forgot your lunch", you explained, eyebrows raised in confusion. Oh, for fuck's sake. He quickly pulled you away, glaring at the subordinates startled by the commotion. They must've been eyeing (Y/N) like rabid dogs, he thought. Next thing you know, you'll be scooped away by some horned scoundrel. He can't have that.

Initially, the rage-filled, obsession-driven fuck you'd receive almost daily was welcomed with shameless begging. The way your monster husband would pin you down under his claws and thrust into you so hard, you could see its movement in waves across your stomach. The way he'd forcefully spread your legs, hungrily sinking his nails into the soft flesh of your thighs and gnawing your shoulders in delirious need. The tears that sheepishly formed in the corners of your hooded eyes would only incite him more. "Bite onto my hand if you can't take it anymore", he'd coo without stopping. As much as you liked to be left a limp, drooling mess, the soreness grew unbearable. Enough was enough when you found yourself carrying a cushion to sit down on any surface.

"Listen, we need to have a talk." You greeted him solemnly once he returned from his military duties. Oh, no. Absolutely not. The monstrous husband bit his lips in panic, immediately going through a mental list of all his subordinates. Or was it someone in the family that slithered their way into your heart? Is that what it was about, that you'd found a different creature? No matter, you weren't going anywhere. "I don't want to hear about it", he declared dramatically. "I have a bruised cervix!" you shouted in disbelief. "Huh?" He stared at you. "It hurts even when I lay down, man. You have to tone it down. At least for a little while."

Ah. Awkward. You noticed his flinch, and patted the empty seat next to you. "What did you think I was going to say?" The bench groaned under the weight of his gargantuan body. Hands folded in his lap like a punished schoolboy, your husband began to narrate the tale of his seething envy and frenzied passion for you. You must understand, he's never cared for anyone as much. To hell with duty and honor, he would kill his own father if his touch on you lingered one second longer than permitted. "Alright, but you must control yourself a little", you reminded him gently. "Never, my urge to obliterate any threat in my path is insatiable", he concluded with vehemence. "Yes, yes, that I understand. The sex, I mean", you gesticulated. "Of course. My apologies, I got sidetracked."

Somehow, he didn't expect to leave this conversation with a cathartic approval of his possessiveness. "Surely you must be upset by my fanatical behavior", he suggested meekly. "Oh no, it's part of your charm", you reassured him with a smile. "It's just not that sustainable in bed without the occasional break." You pat your stomach to express your misfortune.

Sadly, your monster fucking dreams must adhere to the laws of biology.

[ms-demeanor]

making my own post because nobody needs my bullshit on their post:

OP:

Reblog 1:

Reblog 2:

My response:

The IRA blogs were here and they were active and they were quite popular; their posting patterns did not match normal tumblr users (i was followed by lagonegirl and followed back only to be put off by the account reblogging the same five or ten posts every hour for a day before selecting another five or ten posts to reblog hourly the next day - it was clear engagement bait).

Tumblr has never been as transparent about these accounts as both Twitter and Facebook were, but several of the accounts had shared names across platforms and you can find a significant amount of data that was released by both facebook (ex: ads purchased by the IRA accounts) and twitter (over three million tweets from IRA accounts). Academic researchers have published papers on the data released from facebook and twitter. Several papers. So many papers. Soooooo many papers. We have a LOT of direct evidence that you can explore for yourself that there were hundreds (possibly thousands) of IRA accounts that were created on Facebook and Twitter. Of those accounts, some shared usernames across platforms, and of those accounts, a few had tumblr accounts that posted the same content on twitter and tumblr.

To quote a buzzfeed news article from the time:

The Russian-run Tumblr accounts used the same, or very similar, usernames as the account names contained on a list of confirmed IRA accounts Twitter submitted to congressional investigators. In some cases, the Tumblr and Twitter account has the same profile image or linked to each other in their bios. Some IRA Tumblrs and Twitter accounts also cross-promoted content between platforms, further linking them together.

Current tumblr user @ alwaysbewoke (who I don't want to tag because I'm sure he's got better things to do) is interviewed in that article and talks about following one of the blogs identified by tumblr as an IRA blog that had a matching account on twitter identified as an IRA account but unfollowing when the left-leaning blog supposedly run by a black creator started rooting for trump in the election.

Dr. Jonathan Albright is heavily quoted in the article; the data review he collaborated on is one of the only reviews of this subject that includes data from Tumblr and Reddit.

One of the claims that I've seen is that tumblr just deleted funny black people, but these were blogs with thousands of followers on tumblr who never recreated, never popped up on another social media site, never started a reddit account after getting banned; nobody ever showed up saying "hey this is 4mysquad, I got banned on tumblr and twitter, follow me to pillowfort". These very popular blogs got deleted and, as far as I know, nobody ever popped up claiming to be a person who was deleted - and it's not like tumblr users haven't figured out how to evade bans.

What you are doing when you make posts saying that the IRA accounts on tumblr never existed is *absolving tumblr of guilt for their utter lack of transparency.*

Tumblr is not the only tech company that has tried to fly under the radar as its larger counterparts face regular scrutiny in Congress and in the press. Earlier this month, Reddit revealed it too had deleted hundreds of accounts with ties to the Internet Research Agency. A WIRED investigation found more than a thousand links to Russian propaganda websites are still live on Reddit, and unearthed two suspicious accounts that Reddit immediately shut down.

So should you believe what Tumblr says? No, because Tumblr has been functionally fucking silent on this issue and the information about this subject aside from the list of blogs has come from the hard work of data scientists, journalists, and researchers.

(For the record; some of those bot accounts that were recorded by Dr. Albright also had Google+ accounts in 2017 - there is every possibility that they had myspace accounts).

Now, the reason that I'm popping onto this post as an annoyed anarchist is that I was tracking a similar group of blogs for a while and was discussing them and I stopped precisely because of the galaxy-brained liberals who are now trying to dunk on communists for criticizing electoralism. One of the people who was following my project was one of the ones who started calling out the "joe biden kills dogs" posts as disinfo and I realized they were using some of the guidelines I'd written up to "identify" misinformation and that is very a rock fucking stupid approach to what was clearly a leftist making jokes and was horrified and realized there was no way that I could continue documenting what I was documenting without someone attempting to call actual leftists russian bots.

I've seen the post that OP is referencing [it's one where someone makes a very obvious joke about the democrat presidential ticket and people jump on to call them a bot and then someone tries to do the "AI tell me a story" thing and OP is just like "I don't want to :(", proving that they are in fact a person and not an AI] and have deeply enjoyed the humor of watching liberals a) not understand a very, VERY obvious joke and b) become the unwitting butt of a joke they were trying to make, but also I am so exhausted by watching normie dems call leftists AI bots after years of watching normie dems call real live actual leftists who hold actual political views that real people actually have, like prison abolition, russian bots.

But I am also so fucking tired of left conspiracism and how stupid it sounds when leftists dismiss a preponderance of evidence that is easily accessible and publicly available for analysis as "lol so you just trust everything tumblr tells you?"

No, dipshit, learn to click a fucking link or twelve.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Hi!!! I just read your Wonka fics and they're all so sweet and I love them so much. I was wondering if I could request a certain fic? Here me out,,,,

So basically since there were only 6 bedrooms at the laundry place, the reader had their own room before Willy came but once he came the reader got switched to share rooms with Noodle since that's who they're closest too. The reader doesn't have their own bed for a few days until after they slowly(?) get closer to Willy, and build up the courage to walk to Willy's room in the middle of the night and ask to sleep with him. Nothing but sweet fluff.

Bonus points if Noodle catches them cuddling the next morning while they're asleep. :)))

Midnight Encounters [W. W]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

note: first, I have to say that I LOVED this as soon as I read it. I'm honestly afraid I haven't done this wonderful idea justice, so whoever asked for this, I'm very grateful. This is my favorite so far!

taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]

Scrubitt's wonderful building only had six rooms, and when a seventh guest (a forced worker, actually) arrived, you had to figure out a way to make it work. You and Noodle had no problem sharing a place due to your familiarity and that, of course, you were the youngest, to give the new laundry employee a bed of his own.

Mr. Wonka was a most peculiar man, who had gained your attention immediately and, as the days passed, also your affection. It was something like love at first sight, if there was such a thing, and you didn't know if it was due to his charismatic personality, his beauty, or his completely dreamy aura that had captivated you. Whatever it was, it was clear that every time he approached you let out a nervous sigh and he seemed to react the same way to your presence; somehow you knew he felt the same way, you didn't even know why, you just felt it. 

A good amount of time passed, enough for the two of you to share stories in the long hours you had to spend working, and trust was added to the list of things between you. You thought that the bond that was born between you could also be because you two were similar in age compared to the rest, who were younger or older. You suddenly started to enjoy chatting with him, he became the first one you looked for in the crowd and you also allowed him to help you from time to time, even if it was small things, just to be with him a little more. 

That was why that night, after thinking about it for so many hours, you slipped out of your shared bed with Noodle, ready to go out through the hallway in search of a little warmth to shelter you while you slept. Because if anything was true, it was that the little girl's room had always been colder than yours and you weren’t a person particularly fond of this condition. On the contrary, you would say that as soon as a little wind blew through the window your entire body was already shaking in protest, to the point that it had become unbearable to live through it.

You advanced automatically and when you reached the door of your old room there was a second of hesitation, where all the possible results for what you were about to do passed through your mind; some were more favorable than others, however, you knew that you wouldn't find out what was really going to happen until you dared to cross into the room. Would Willy be upset? you asked yourself. You just hoped you didn't scare him.

You carefully turned the knob, which had once been gold but was now only copper, and you were thankful that it didn't have a lock. There was definitely no time to chicken out, you knew when you watched the boy curled up on the bed move slightly, as if the air that had sneaked in through the door had bothered him.

You noticed that he was wearing only his light white shirt and a pair of pants, without shoes or socks. There was a certain vulnerability in the scene, almost like an invitation for you to take a couple of steps and simply slip into his arms and sleep peacefully. How would he feel? Would his skin be soft? Cozy? Would that grip be enough to help you get your long-awaited rest?

You closed the door behind you and the soft click it made was enough to wake the man, as if that had warned him of the intruder who had sneaked into his room. He sat bolt upright on the bed and squinted to peer through the darkness.

"Who is it?"

“It's me, Willy” you responded and upon hearing your voice he visibly relaxed. However, when he asked himself the reason for your nocturnal visit, he returned to alert state.

"What happened? Everything is alright?"

You had no valid reason to be there. Or maybe you had it, but it wasn't something you could explain to the man without exposing yourself, or exposing your feelings. Even if that were the case, you thought that it would sound absurd to confess to him that you were there just because you wanted to discover what it felt like to have him close to you, to feel his breath close to your face, to be sheltered by his body...

“Y/N?” he spoke again, probably because he thought you hadn't heard him the first time. He was afraid it was an emergency so you were there, not imagining anything of what was going through your head.

You finally found your voice, deep inside your chest, and were able to offer him an answer:

"I'm cold"

You honestly didn't know what else to say and deep down you hoped that was enough, but even so, Willy got up still sleepy and stumbled to reach you. 

“Oh, do you need a blanket?” he asked, while he could put his hands at your sides, holding your arms. His curls were messy and there were traces of sleep on his face. “Or would you prefer that I change rooms with you and Noodle? I wouldn't mind, although you should have told me before. If I had known, I could…”

"May I stay here?" you interrupted him. Your voice was a whisper in the darkness and he was still holding you, looking down at you with slight concern “With you?”

For a second he thought he was hearing you wrong and if he had heard correctly, he thought that perhaps he had not understood what you were trying to tell him. You looked disheveled and wore lighter clothing than usual, but he couldn't help but notice the innocence that bathed your face. You looked so pure and pretty that he felt dizzy, which only increased at the possibility that you were suggesting sleeping there; in the same bed… together.

“Huh… Are you sure?” he asked and instantly felt stupid. He just hoped it wouldn't scare you away.

“I guess I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, right?” you replied, a smile escaping your lips. Suddenly the thought of him not wanting this came to your mind, realizing that it was completely valid “But if you don't want…”

“No,” he murmured, taking his turn to interrupt you. “It's okay if you want to stay here, I don't mind. I also feel a little cold”

If that was just to make you feel better, it didn't matter, after all you knew from the look on you that he wanted to do this just as much as you did. Well, it was that and the way his hand moved up your arm until it reached your face, where he brushed away a chunk of your hair and then kindly caressed your cheek. It was a gentle, loving, and sincere touch. 

Without waiting any longer, you walked between the buckets that stopped the leaks and the man followed you obediently, until the two of you were sitting on the mattress. It was small and worn, with barely enough room for a body to move freely, there was a thin blanket over it and a pillow that covered the entire length of the headboard.

“You look tired,” you pointed out, feeling a slight guilt for having snatched him from his sleep.

“I am a little,” he replied, while he yawned and rubbed one eye as if he wanted to corroborate what he was saying.

You wanted to have the courage to grab his face and kiss him right there, but you didn't dare; it had been too much, you had to control your impulses or you would end up scaring the poor boy to death.

“We have to sleep, then”

Willy motioned for you to take the inside of the bed and when you were lying down he imitated you, forced by the lack of space to position himself a few centimeters from your entire body. You felt small, not physically, but metaphorically, and his attentive gaze and playful expression didn't help much.

"Are you comfortable?"

“Mjm,” you hummed affirmatively.

You felt him stir next to you and then he spread the blanket over you, hoping that would ease whatever had ailed you in the first place. One of his hands began to move down and up your arm in an attempt to give you a little more warmth, which worked perfectly after a few seconds. You felt so spoiled by him.

You were silent for a moment, in which he didn’t dare to look at you for fear that you could read in his expression how nervous he had become. He didn’t expect your visit and feared he was dreaming, although his hand touching you kept him certain that this wasn’t the case.

“I assume I was your first choice for this, was I?”

“You were my only option” you relieved, in a low voice. You weren't going to lie to him, if you had already managed to sneak between his sheets you wanted him to know that you were only thinking about him “I thought your arms would be warm. And I think I wasn’t wrong”

Almost as if your words had been an incentive, he closed the distance even more, placing one of his arms under your head so you could use it as a pillow and using the other to surround your body. Your face felt red and you thought you would die of embarrassment, but instead you just buried your head in his chest. He smelled like chocolate and soap.

“Hey,” he whispered suddenly and you pulled your head out of its comfortable spot to respond.

"Yeah?"

Again he surprised you when you felt that you received a fluffy kiss on the forehead before an answer, managing to add even more color to the skin of your cheeks.

“I just wanted to see your face. Rest"

Would it be possible not to when you were sheltered by such a sweet man, who held you with the care of holding a piece of porcelain? You highly doubted it, to be honest.

Your response was only your arm stretching out from the blanket that covered you to surround his waist and thus become practically fused with him. It didn't take you long to feel the full weight of fatigue settling on you and thanks to the rhythmic beat of his heart, you fell completely asleep, now without a single problem to be able to rest.

In your dreams you thought you heard his voice, but you couldn't make out what he was telling you, and at some point during the night you tangled your legs with his, thus eliminating any remains of the distance you had with him.

Very early in the morning Noodle soon noticed that someone was missing in bed, and although at first she thought you had just decided to get up a little early, she got worried when she went out to look for you and couldn't find you anywhere. The girl wondered if something had happened to you, if you had escaped or even if the mistress had locked you in the closet, just like she did with her. She thought that she had to tell someone about your absence and then she believed that the best candidate would be Willy, because she knew that he would share her concern and help her look for you without any complaints.

She crossed the hallway with her bare feet until she reached the boy's room and once there, she knocked on the door twice.

“Willy?” she called out to him, but there was no answer. That's why she knocked two more times “Willy? Are you there?"

Noodle waited a few seconds for the door to open, but it didn't, and that worried the girl again. What if he had disappeared too? She didn't want to waste time and to find out she turned the doorknob, expecting to see an empty room. But her surprise was great when she looked at what was really behind the door.

It was obvious that the blows had woken the man, so when he looked directly at her he had already put a finger to his mouth to tell her to keep quiet. The girl noticed that there was a bundle curled up next to him, holding him firmly and with its head buried in the crook of his neck, but she opened her eyes widely when she recognized the pattern of the pants that was under the sheet.

At least the problem of your whereabouts had been solved.

"Is…?"

“Yes, but she's asleep,” Willy responded quickly, whispering, “Be good and let her rest, okay? There is still a little while before the laundry opens.”

She nodded, confused and surprised, and waved goodbye to him, closing the door carefully. Noodle smiled to herself as she returned to her room, while she thought that, with any luck, from now on it would be someone else who would have to share the bed with you.

[annwrites]

a call to arms. part one.

— pairing: jacaerys velaryon x dragonseed!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: desperate to provide aid to your starving family due to the blockade, you venture, along with a great many other lowborns, to dragonstone, in hopes of gaining something—anything—which you might bring back to them; something to fill your little sister's belly.

things turn out quite the opposite as planned, as what you now believe to be a mad queen, locks all of you in her dragonpit, and you're forced to run, hide, & fend for your lives against two hungry dragons.

in the end, only two individuals are left standing: hugh hammer, who has now claimed for himself vermithor...and you—chosen by silverwing.

just when you believe things can't possibly get any worse, you then meet prince jacaerys.

— word count: 1,674

— a/n: do i have a fuck-ton of other fics & stuff to work on? idk, bc we are not going to talk about it. ok? <3

— tagging list: @tvangelism @aemondwhoresworld @emilynissangtr

He grinds his teeth together, filled with utter contempt—disgust—that whatever you are—bastards, lowborns, flea-ridden rats—are now, above all else, dragonriders.

And he is meant to share common spaces with you now? Such as the Great Hall? Meant to pass you in the halls and tolerate the sight of you?

To ride alongside you?

To treat you with...what? Kindness? Generosity for having 'come to his mother's aid'? He will most certainly not be treating, nor addressing you as an equal. Either of you.

To be a dragonrider...it is a sacred bond. And now he is meant to believe that even the lowest scum Flea Bottom has to offer has the same right as he to sail the skies, unleashing fire and blood upon the enemy?

Never.

He will never.

The rest of them got what they deserved for thinking they had any right to claim that which is meant only for those like him.

Queens and kings, princes and princesses, lords and ladies alike.

He is better than both of you.

Even if he is similar in ways he does not want to admit...

Boots echo against stone floors, dark curls falling over dark eyes, a brooding temperament within.

Jacaerys emerges into the Great Hall, Hugh promptly rising from his seat, bowing his head. "My Prince."

Jacaerys studies him for but a moment, briefly judging the plain-colored clothes he dons, before turning his sights across the room to you, who is seated between two stained-glass windows, arms wrapped around your bent knees, while you cast your attentions outward, instead of on him.

Your Prince.

Your superior.

He clenches his jaw at the sight of your long, silver hair that moonlight casts in an ethereal glow, making it appear as if it is sparkling. Cascading down your back like molten silver in soft waves.

"You there—girl—do you know how incredibly rude it is for you not to stand and curtsy when in the presence of royalty?"

You jolt—torn from tormented memories of but a couple days past; of people running, screaming for mercy. Dying choking on their own blood as dragonfire burns them alive.

None of you had anticipated—had imagined—that the very queen you were coming to, under the guise of offering your aid to in the war, would lock you in a room to be eaten by terrifying beasts.

Aegon deserves the throne in comparison to such a monster.

You have made a great mistake, mayhaps. Then again, becoming a dragonrider has already filled your belly, provided you with clean sheets to sleep upon, a guard outside your door, hot baths.

But it is not you who needs these things. You want them for your family.

There is no turning back now, however. You knew as much with certainty when that silver dragon laid her head at your feet before leaning forward, brushing her warm snout against your abdomen while you struggled to contain your bladder and bowels. While you sobbed hysterically, begging for mercy from a being that you do not so much as share a common language with.

You know not a word of High Valyrian, though you will now be expected to learn, you suppose.

Among many other things. Such as how to ride the animal...

Your stomach twists nervously at the thought.

You turn away from the window, slide off the ledge, then grab your skirts in either of your hands before tucking a foot behind your other ankle, bowing. "My Prince."

He scoffs, coming closer. "That was the worst curtsy I've ever seen."

You fold your hands in front of you, keeping your eyes downcast. "Forgive me, My Prince, it is...the first time I've attempted one."

He rolls his eyes, settling his arms behind his back before glancing over his shoulder to Hugh, jerking his head toward the hall he's just come from, and he quickly makes himself scarce.

He looks back to you.

"And what is your name?" He demands.

"Y/N," you state quietly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. "You are to look at me while we're speaking. Do you understand?"

You nod, trailing your eyes upwards—over a red-and-black velvet tunic, the three-headed symbol of his house embroidered upon the breast—until they're looking into hues of chocolate-brown.

He clenches his hands into tight fists behind his back.

You've every trademark of a pure Targaryen: silver hair, lilac eyes—with flecks of violet—skin so fair it's near-translucent, delicate features.

He fucking loathes you for every asset which you possess and he does not.

He would never—will never—state it aloud, but you look far more Targaryen than he ever will.

He wishes one of the dragons had taken you down its gullet as well. That way, he would not be forced to suffer the nigh-daily sight of you now.

He looks you over, circling you like a dragon does its prey—desperate to find something he may use to mock you with; some imperfection—before standing tall before you again.

"You think wearing rags before your Queen's court appropriate?"

Your expression quickly settles into a scowl.

Good, he thinks. Give him an excuse to introduce you to the Queen's justice. He is silently begging you for as much within his malice-filled gaze.

Your small hands clench into fists at your slender sides. "My mother made this dress for me."

His jaw ticks. "From now on, you will wear more suitable clothing when outside your private chambers—which means conservative in nature; not whatever men found desirable upon the Street of Silk. You are a representative of our house now. A dragonrider. A soldier to our cause. You will look the part."

Tears sting your eyes as yours bore into his own hatefully.

"I am not a whore," you reply contemptuously.

There is a beat of silence, his brows furrowing slightly. Surely you are lying. You have the look—more than.

And then you continue.

"And with what coin, My Prince?" You sneer.

He takes a step closer, causing you to shuffle backward, catching yourself against the window-ledge, the stone digging into your palms as you grip it to steady yourself.

He leans in close—your faces mere inches apart. "I beg your pardon?"

You do not shrink away from him.

Gods, you already hate him with all that you are.

"I came here for coin. Desperate for—"

"So greed is what sent you? Not to aid us in winning back my mother's throne? Her rightful seat. You come to steal away a dragon, and then what?"

"My family is starving!" You finally shout, at the end of your rope from the last few sleepless nights that've been filled with nightmares instead of rest; your temper having reached its limit. "My mother and little sister both! How would you feel if it were you? If your loved-ones were suffering, while all you could do is sit back and watch them waste away before you? So, yes, I came. I claimed a dragon—even if my intentions had only been merely to host audience with a clement queen who would provide aid to her suffering subjects. Not burn them alive for coming to help her!"

He grits his teeth. "You will watch your tongue, you insolent little wench. My mother sent boat-fulls of food to King's Landing. She has provided—"

You begin to laugh, with a lack of humor behind it all, cutting him off. "Oh, yes, how very kind of her to give aid to the very subjects she is responsible for the suffering of in the first place. The blockade is all your all's fault! People were fighting like dogs in the streets—assaulting—killing each other for a small sack of grain! I risked mine own life for a peck of potatoes! That's it! Even then, I was forced to wrestle a full-grown man off myself to get it. I was fortunate to escape with my life—with any food to speak of for my struggles!"

You step forward, forcing his royal highness to take a step back, and he swallows thickly.

"You've never known hunger a day in your life, have you? Never known what is it to wear 'rags' while you don your silk and velvet, while you sleep on thousand-thread count sheets, while you flout your jewels, and your fancy titles, and your gilded castles while the rest of us bow and scrape before your feet for a mere morsel of respect! You are meant to take care of us!"

Once you've finished, your heart pounds in your ears, your shoulders rapidly rise and fall, and it's then that you notice Prince Jacaerys' hand is tightly gripping the pommel of his sword—his knuckles having now gone white from the force.

Your eyes flit back to his, tears filling your own. "And I am meant to one day call you king, given we are 'successful' in our endeavors to win your mother back her glorified chair," you say, spitting the final word at him.

The two of you stand tall before the other, refusing to be the first one to break—your chins held high, even if your stomach is now twisting painfully into knots while your bowels turn to water.

If he puts you to death for your unimaginable disobedience—your disrespect...who will help your family then?

Your little sister... Your little girl.

She became as much when your mother went away in herself after your father's passing. It did not matter that you were still a mere child yourself when it happened. She became your responsibility to look after and tend to from that day forward.

And now...you feel as if you have failed her.

"Go to your room," he orders lowly, his body shaking from anger, brief pauses between each word.

You curtsy one last time.

"My Prince," you mumble, brushing past him, wanting to break something.

He stalks off in the opposite direction, feeling much the same: wanting to burn something—or, rather, someone—alive.

[idocumentscammers]

PayPal Donations for Humalog Insulin: The Snake Oil of Tumblr Scammers

Have you recently received an ask like this?

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Do you recognize any of these profile pictures?

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You have probably encountered a scam!

(Edit: one of the profile pictures used to scam was stolen directly from Dr. Shahed, a verified fundraiser! If you see anyone else using this photo in accordance with any fundraiser that does not belong to Dr. Shahed, it is likely a scam.)

These scammers take random Palestine-related photos and photos of hijabi women to quickly curate their blogs into looking like real Palestinians. Their asks and pinned posts are nearly identical, with a few discrepancies between names used, exact amounts asked for, and the occasional false claim of being "vetted and verified." They nearly always have one original post (their pinned one with their PayPal link) while the rest of their blog are solely reblogs of other posts, mainly those popular within the Palestine-related tags.

Here's an example of a pinned post, from the currently-active futuristiclovernut:

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They claim to be someone named "Wangila," with a linked PayPal belonging to Nafula Wangila...yet they were going by a different name not too long ago...

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This post is from two days ago. I imagine they were asked why their PayPal name was different from the name they provided, so they just decided to start using the PayPal name instead.

As for that exact ask, here's several links from so many different accounts using a very similar ask.

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Here is a list of usernames that used some iteration of this ask: futuristiclovernut, jollyduckdetective, mellowwerewolfblaze, enchantingtravelermentality, chiefarcadedreammer, sodelusiontyphoon, atomiccollectorrladdysblog, greatmagazinepeace, thoughtfulfestivallove, luckyprincessblog, androgynousrunawaytree, enchantingladyearthquaker, tenaciousbearcowboy and more!

(Tip: go to Google and search " "long shot call" tumblr" (with quotations around the "long shot call") and you'll find so many iterations of this)

Using many different accounts and using duplicate asks is a practice that many legitimate, vetted fundraisers use. But they don't change their name and link to a new PayPal account each time. Legitimate fundraisers will usually have two links tops (such as a GoFundMe and a PayPal alternative). They typically use a GoFundMe, but will occasionally use Go Get Funding or trackable PayPal fundraisers. Some have used untrackable donation pools as an alternative to GoFundMe, but that should not be trusted unless they've been vetted by a qualified vetter.

With that in mind, the "vetted and verified" business happening in a lot of these scam blogs' pinned posts is misleading. They don't provide any links to vetting proof or usernames of those who vetted them, or will make up nonexistent accounts as their source of "vetting." Do not assume a fundraiser is vetted just because the post says so. Find the original vetting source and link it. If it's a spreadsheet, find the exact row number. Always check the fundraiser link that was in the vetter's post/spreadsheet. (Don't let the nessmamomen situation repeat; vetted funds have been impersonated before, while linking a separate "fundrasier.") Do not take anyone else's word for it, including other people in the reblogs; chances are, they didn't check for a source either.

Not every unvetted fundraiser is a scam. In fact, on my mainblog @cluelessbot, I reblog a lot of unvetted fundrasiers under the condition that they don't have stolen images or text (checked through copy-pasting search and reverse image search) are using a trackable fundraising option (there is a fundraising title and info on the fundraising page, with a progress bar leading to a specific monetary goal in the thousands) and are fundraising to a reasonable goal according to their stated needs. A Palestinian asking for only a few hundred dollars is not reasonable. Even if they aren't trying to evacuate, the cost of goods in Gaza is so inflated that a few hundred dollars will not cover their needs. If they cannot afford insulin, they are likely struggling with other necessities like shelter, food, water, and hygiene products. $360 would work as a short-term goal, which vetted Gazan fundraisers will ask for within a certain timeframe, but it is such a low total amount compared to legitimate Gaza fundraisers.

Let's talk profile pictures! The black woman with a red hijab is the most common photo you'll see, which has been associated with so many names such as Tasneem Doreen Rajaab, Marystella Majuma (Rajaab), Rajaab Edward, Jane Majuma, Rose Abdulhaq, Nafula Wangila, Zuhura Alfaat Kweyu. (Not a comprehensive list)

Some of these names get used with other profile pictures of totally different people as well.

Tasneem Doreen Rajaab gets changed to Tasneem Remmy Rajaab, and uses a photo of a totally different person.

Zuhura Alfaat Kweyu also was also used in conjunction with a photo of an entirely different person.

Onto PayPal names; the PayPal accounts linked with these scams frequently have names that originate from Sub-Saharan African cultures. This tells us that this scam is likely being run by the same individual, or a small group of individuals who are using names they are most familiar with. Here are just a few examples:

Majuma is most common in Kenya

Wangila is most common in Kenya

Kweyu is most common in Kenya

Khakasa is most common in Uganda

This means that this person or small group of people has likely made so much money off this scam. I have seen some of these posts with notes in the thousands, meaning that they have, at the very least, collected hundreds of dollars that could have went to actual Gazan fundraisers. These people do not care. If you call them out, they block you. If their account gets deactivated by tumblr staff, they just make a new one. This is why you need to be thorough about every donation ask you receive. With the state of Gaza and the inflated costs of everything, including evacuation; these fundraisers, and in turn, the scammers, will not be stopping anytime soon.

If you're feeling overwhelmed, check my main blog's pinned post for resources.

Stop sharing suspicious donation asks on the off-chance that it's real. If you don't want to take the time to inspect fundraisers, then stop sharing unvetted ones, or reach out to me for help. Let's do better to support those in Palestine, and stop soliciting the people taking donations away from them.

Since I have decided to support this family until they reach their goals: Nesma Ahmed and her sisters Dr. Shahad and Farah are both vetted [1] [2] and are in need of support to continue their education, evacuate, and afford necessities. Please share their fundraisers [1] [2] donate if you are able, and join their Telegram support group if you're interested.

This post/my blog is not a place to accuse all fundraisers of being scams, to discourage people from donating to fundraisers, or to be racist/xenophobic. Read my rules.

[mrsfancyferrari]

You Know Me Best

Summary: Charles has a bad day and you as his best friend always knows what he wants, but do you really?

Song: Friends by Chase Atlantic

Author’s note: This is similar to Just One Kiss but the ending is the different and spicy version. This is my first time writing an erotic scene so please just give constructive criticism. I just want to keep celebrating Charles' win T_T

Word count: 3.6k

Charles Leclerc experienced a challenging day on the track, and as his best friend, you noticed his need for comfort and reassurance. Charles has always been known for being incredibly intuitive, and you knew that he wanted to unwind and seek solace in his favorite activities.

Whenever Charles feels overwhelmed or stressed, he tends to crave comfort food. You know that he can always count on you to bring him his favorite treats, whether it's a bowl of warm homemade soup or a delicious sandwich.

You knew that providing him with one of his favorite foods would provide him with a sense of comfort and stability.

Throughout the day, you noticed a newfound attentiveness among the team members and fans alike. They knew that Charles was having a bad day, and they couldn't help but notice the changes in his behavior.

Whether it was his distracted demeanor or the way he constantly sought out your comfort, everyone realized that something was amiss.

However, what no one realized was that you were the one who understood Charles better than anyone else.

You knew exactly what he needed, and you were determined to bring him the comfort and reassurance he craved.

Throughout the years, you made sure that Charles had his favorite meals, whether it was sneaking him a few bites of dessert during team meetings or surprising him with a late-night snack.

You knew that these small gestures would make a difference, helping him regain his footing and regain his confidence.

"Are you sure you're not married or something?" Daniel joked to you as he watched you give Charles some snacks.

"No, just really good friends," you replied with a laugh. "But sometimes it feels like we're practically married with how well I know him."

Daniel chuckled and said, "Well, if you ever decide to tie the knot, I hope you'll remember to invite me to the wedding. I wouldn't want to miss out on witnessing such a perfect match!"

"Of course, Daniel! You'll be at the top of the guest list," you replied, grateful for the lighthearted moment amidst the tension.

What you didn't know was that Charles was listening to your conversation. As he overheard Daniel's comment about you two being a perfect match, a small smile formed on his face, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to your friendship than he had realized.

Your friendship with Charles runs deep, rooted in years of shared experiences and unwavering support. From late-night conversations to celebrating each other's successes, you have been there for each other through thick and thin.

Charles knows that your understanding of him goes beyond mere comfort food, and he cherishes the bond you share.

But as the smile lingered on his face, Charles couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance for something more than just friendship between the two of you.

The thought had crossed his mind before, but now, listening to your conversation with Daniel, it seemed like the universe was teasing him with the possibility of a deeper connection. . . .

The thought of a deeper connection with Charles had always lingered in your heart, but fear had held you back from taking any action. You were in love with him, and had been for as long as you could remember, but the risk of losing the friendship you cherished so much had always been too great.

As you watched Charles zoom around the Monaco track in his racing car, gripping onto your seat in the paddock, a surge of emotions washed over you. The adrenaline, the excitement, and the undeniable sense of pride in seeing him pursue his passion ignited a fire within you.

The roar of the engine filled the air as Charles sped past, his car a blur of color. A mix of excitement and anxiety washed over you, causing your heart to race in sync with the car.

As you held your breath, you couldn't help but notice the fierce competition from Max Verstappen and Lando Norris, who were hot on Charles' heels, ready to seize any opportunity to overtake him.

The race was far from over, and the tension only grew as the laps ticked by, making you wonder if Charles would be able to maintain his lead until the end.

The race intensified with each passing lap, as Charles skillfully navigated the twists and turns of the Monaco track. He expertly maneuvered his car, pushing it to its limits, while Max Verstappen and Lando Norris continued to apply relentless pressure. The crowd erupted with excitement, their cheers echoing through the air, as the three drivers engaged in a thrilling battle for the top spot.

Every move, every split-second decision, held the potential to determine the outcome of the race. The tension was palpable as the cars zoomed past, their engines roaring and tires screeching, creating a symphony of speed.

With each passing lap, the stakes grew higher, fueling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. As the race entered its final stages, every corner became a make-or-break moment, and you held your breath, praying for Charles to maintain his lead until the checkered flag.

As soon as he crossed the finish line, everyone jumped up from their seats, including you. The air was filled with a mix of cheers, applause, and jubilation as Charles secured the victory he had fought so hard for.

Emotions overwhelmed you, and you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride and joy for him.

You rushed to the podium, eager to congratulate Charles on his well-deserved win. Your heart swelled with pride as you embraced him, knowing that your unwavering support had played a small part in his momentous victory.

Charles stepped out of his racing car, his face beaming with a mixture of exhaustion and triumph. The crowd erupted into a thunderous applause, recognizing his incredible skill and determination in securing the hard-fought victory.

When he finally found you, Charles quickly hugged you tightly, his grip filled with gratitude and genuine appreciation.

The bond between you and Charles had grown stronger through countless races, and this victory was a testament to the unwavering support and belief you had in each other.

As his head was tucked into your neck, you gently stroked his hair in response, feeling the weight of his exhaustion and the elation of his triumph. In that moment, you knew that all the sacrifices, the late nights, and the unwavering support were worth it, as you celebrated this unforgettable victory together.

"You did it," you whispered, your voice filled with pride and admiration. "All your hard work and determination paid off. I couldn't be happier for you."

Charles smiled against your neck and whispered back, "Thank you for always believing in me. I couldn't have done it without you."

Charles then let go of you and looked into your eyes before saying, "Can you meet me in my driver's room after? I have something important to discuss with you."

"Sure," you nodded as he was taken away by a staff member. As you watched Charles disappear into the crowd, your mind raced with anticipation, wondering what he could possibly have to discuss with you.

As you watched Charles make his way to the podium, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for his remarkable achievement. The sight of him standing tall, his face glowing with a mixture of exhaustion and triumph, filled you with immense pride.

It was a moment that would forever be etched in your memory, a testament to the years of hard work and determination that had brought him to this point.

"He likes you, you know,"

Startled by Arthur Leclerc's sudden appearance, you turned to face him with a surprised expression. "What do you mean?" you asked, curious about his comment.

Arthur smirked mischievously and replied, "Oh, come on. It's obvious. Charles talks about you all the time. I think he's finally ready to take your relationship to the next level."

You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Oh, Arthur, you've got it all wrong. Charles and I are just friends."

Arthur's eyebrows raised at your comment. "Maman says otherwise, she's always talking about you," he said with a smirk.

You felt a mix of surprise and curiosity, wondering what Charles' mother could possibly be saying about you.

"Just know that the family will welcome you in with open arms if you two get together," Arthur added, his mischievous smirk widening. As he walked away, leaving you with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more between you and Charles than just friendship.

As Charles stood on the podium, he couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude and honor as the Prince of Monaco handed him the golden trophy. The gleaming trophy symbolized not only his extraordinary victory, but also the recognition and respect he had earned from the racing community and the world at large.

In that moment, as the national anthem played and Charles made a point to lock eyes with you, it felt like a silent affirmation of his feelings. The intensity of his gaze left you with no doubt that there was something more than friendship between you two, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation for what the future might hold.

In that moment, you couldn't deny the warmth that spread through your chest, matching the pride evident in his eyes. As the applause filled the air, you realized that your own feelings for Charles had grown deeper than you had allowed yourself to admit.

The future suddenly seemed full of possibilities, and you couldn't wait to explore them together. . . .

As the celebrations continued, you found yourself caught up in the whirlwind of joy and excitement surrounding Charles and Ferrari's victory. The atmosphere was electric, filled with cheers, laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses.

In that moment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness for Charles and a deep sense of pride for being a part of his journey.

A staff member approached you with a message, informing you that Charles was looking for you amidst the celebrations.

As your heart raced with anticipation, you couldn't help but wonder what he wanted to say and how this momentous victory would further solidify the bond between you.

"Charles wants to see you," they said, their voice filled with urgency. Intrigued and slightly nervous, you followed the staff member through the crowd and made your way to Charles' private suite.

As you knocked on the door, your heart raced with anticipation, wondering what Charles wanted to discuss with you in this intimate setting.

As you wait for Charles to open the door, a mix of excitement and nervousness floods your senses. Your heart pounds in your chest, and your mind races with possibilities of what he might say.

In this moment, every second feels like an eternity, and you can't help but wonder how this conversation will shape the future of your relationship.

You heard the sound of footsteps growing louder and closer to the door, causing your anticipation to heighten. Each step seemed to echo in your ears, building up the tension and making you even more eager to see Charles and hear what he had to say.

As you heard the footsteps come closer to the door, your anticipation grew. The sound of Charles' voice calling your name sent a thrill through your entire body, and you couldn't wait to see the expression on his face as he opened the door.

"Yes, it's me Charles," you responded, a smile spreading across your face.

The door swung open, revealing Charles with a mixture of excitement and nervousness mirrored in his eyes.

When you met Charles' gaze, there was something in his eyes that took your breath away: a blend of lust and desire that took you by surprise.

His eyes scanned your whole body slowly, taking in every detail with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. It was as if he was seeing you for the first time, his gaze filled with a newfound appreciation and longing.

As his eyes scanned your whole body slowly, you felt a shiver run down your spine. It was as if he was undressing you with his gaze, his desire palpable in the air. You couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation, wondering what he had in mind for the two of you.

It was as if he was taking in every detail, every curve, every nuance, and savoring the moment.

"Charles?"

For a brief moment, Charles blinked and locked eyes with you, seemingly forgetting the intimate setting you were in. The intensity of his gaze broke the tension, and you could sense a deep connection forming between you.

It was as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment.

"Come in," he said, widening the door for you, his voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability. As you stepped inside, the outside world seemed to disappear, leaving only the possibility of what this conversation could bring.

"What is it that you wanted to talk about, Charles?" you asked, your voice filled with curiosity and a hint of nervousness.

Charles took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, his voice steady yet filled with a hint of vulnerability. "I wanted to talk about us," he whispered, his words hanging in the air

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you, something I've been holding back for far too long.

You nodded, encouraging him to say it, your heart pounding with anticipation. The words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of his confession building.

Charles took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, his voice filled with sincerity. "I wanted to talk about us," he began, his words hanging in the air. "I've realized that I can't ignore my feelings for you any longer. I've fallen in love with you."

Your eyes widened at his statement, unable to believe what you were hearing. The room fell silent as you processed his words, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and uncertainty.

"Oh no, I knew it wasn't going to work," Charles muttered into his hands, taking your silence as an assumption that you rejected him. But little did he know, your silence was not a sign of rejection, but rather a moment of shock and disbelief.

You were quick to realize that Charles misunderstood your silence, so you walked over to him and gently took his hands off his face, meeting his eyes with a reassuring gaze.

As his scared eyes met your excited eyes, a moment of vulnerability passed between you. You could see the fear of rejection lingering in his gaze, while your eyes reflected a mixture of surprise and joy. In that instant, you knew that this confession meant as much to him as it did to you, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and affection for him.

"I love you too, Charles," you whispered as you cupped his cheeks gently. The weight of his confession lifted off both of you, replaced by an overwhelming sense of happiness and relief.

In that moment, Charles couldn't contain his joy and excitement. He quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, wrapping his hands around your waist, as if afraid that you might slip away.

The warmth of his embrace reassured you that his love was genuine, and you couldn't help but melt into his arms, feeling a sense of safety and belonging that you had longed for.

"Can I?" he muttered, pulling back from the hug enough to stare at your lips. The intense desire in his eyes matched the longing in his voice, as if he was seeking permission to seal his confession with a passionate kiss.

Without hesitation, you leaned in, closing the distance between your lips. The moment your mouths met, a surge of electricity coursed through your bodies, igniting a fire that had been simmering between you. The kiss was passionate and filled with all the pent-up emotions that had been building since the moment you met.

As your lips met, a wave of butterflies fluttered in your stomach, a tingling sensation spread through your chest, and your knees felt weak with anticipation.

The intensity of the kiss confirmed that the connection between you and Charles was not only emotional, but also physical, leaving you both breathless and craving for more. . . .

Their bodies moved as one, their hands exploring every inch of each other's skin. Their breaths intertwined in a symphony of desire as they surrendered to the heat of their passion.

Soft moans escaped their lips, mingling with whispered words of love and longing. In the midst of their ecstasy, their eyes locked, conveying a depth of connection that words could never capture.

"I've waited so long for this," Charles whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and adoration.

"Me too," you responded, your voice laced with pure bliss.

In that intimate moment, every touch felt like the caress of silk against skin. Your fingertips danced across each other's bare flesh, creating a symphony of pleasure that sent shivers down your spine.

Charles carried you onto the sofa, laying you down as he kneeled over you, his eyes filled with a hunger that matched your own.

You gasp as Charles's lips make contact with your neck, his touch sending electric currents through your body.

The sensation of his warm breath against your skin intensifies the desire pooling within you, as you arch your neck, granting him further access to explore the depths of your pleasure.

Charles' hands moved with purpose, skillfully undoing the buttons of your blouse one by one. As each article of clothing fell away, he whispered seductive words of praise and desire in your ear, igniting a deeper sense of arousal within you.

You surrendered to his words, intoxicated by the way he took control and unleashed a wave of passion that consumed you both.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire. "I want to explore every inch of you, to taste every part of your pleasure."

His words sent shivers down your spine, fueling your desire and leaving you yearning for more of his commanding touch.

You respond with a low, sultry moan, your body arching further into his touch, silently begging for more. The sound of your moans only adds to Charles's desire, fueling his determination to fulfill your every craving and ignite a passion that would consume you both. "I want you, Y/N," he said, his voice low and husky. "I want you so badly."

The intensity of your desire could be seen in your eyes when you looked up at him.

"I want you too, Charles," you said, biting your lower lip.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice filled with awe. "I can't believe you're mine."

You smiled up at him, your eyes filled with love.

"I'm all yours, Charles," you said, reaching up to pull him down on top of you.

Charles didn't waste any time. He kissed you deeply, your tongues dancing together in a passionate embrace. He ran his hands over your body, feeling every curve and contour.

"Fuck, Y/N, you feel amazing," he said, his breath hot against your ear.

You moaned, your body writhing beneath him.

"Charles, please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you inside me."

Charles didn't need any more encouragement. He positioned himself at your entrance, his dick throbbing with need.

"Are you ready for me, Y/N?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

You nodded, your eyes wide with desire.

"Yes, Charles, I'm ready," you said, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Charles pushed inside you, feeling your tight warmth surround him. He groaned with pleasure, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good," he said, his voice filled with wonder.

You moaned, your fingers digging into his back, as Charles continued to move inside you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Charles, don't stop," you begged, your hips meeting his with every thrust.

Charles couldn't stop if he wanted to. He was lost in the pleasure of being inside you, of feeling your body respond to his touch.

"Come for me, Y/N," he said, his voice husky with desire. "I want to feel you come apart in my arms." "I'm so close, Charles," you gasped, your voice filled with desperation. "Please, don't stop."

Charles's movements became faster and more intense, his breathing ragged. "I won't stop, Y/N," he growled, his voice filled with determination. "I want you to come for me, to lose yourself in pleasure."

The room filled with the sounds of your moans and the rhythmic slapping of your bodies coming together. As the intensity built, you felt yourself teetering on the edge, ready to fall into ecstasy.

And then, with one final thrust, you shattered, your body convulsing with pleasure as waves of orgasm washed over you.

Charles kissed your forehead gently. "I promise, Y/N. I'll never let you go. You're my everything."

And in that moment, as you melted into each other's arms, you knew that this was a love that would withstand any obstacle. . . .

[kquil]

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER THREE

03 : SHOPPING (2/2)

CHPT. SUM. : so many stores are left on the list, the boys finally eat delicious food outside, detours are a natural endeavour and you meet a collection of interesting shopkeepers. what a day~ 

LENGTH : 10k

TAGS : fluff ; fun day out ; sirius and regulus being precious ; they're just kids ; reader is mother of the year ; reverse comfort ; OC ; visions ; original walburga makes an appearance ; she doesn't stay long though ; money isn't a problem ;) ; domestic fluff ; sibling fluff between sirius and regulus ; marauders fix-it-fic

← PREV. | 02 : SHOPPING (1/2) | SERIES M.LIST

“Two what?” Sirius asks, your attention snapping towards him and breaking contact with the grey-haired man standing before you.  

“Do you need a new wand too, Mother?” Regulus speaks up from your other side, swiftly following after his older brother. It was clear from the differences in their elocution that they differed greatly. One was much louder, with a sharp tongue and an audacious attitude to boot; the other was of a more gentle demeanour, equipped with a clever mind and observant eyes.  

Mr Ollivander leans back with an amused smile waiting to see how you’d react and whose question you’d answer first. 

“The two of us need wands today, Sirius,” you hum, hoping your nerves don’t show through in your voice as you switch between the two. It was adorable how similar their curious looks appeared when staring up at you.  

“Why is that?” your eldest asks curiously, the question reflecting similarly in your youngest’s eyes. 

“My wand appears to be having some problems lately and, well,” you raise your gaze to meet eyes with the wand artisan behind the counter, “I was hoping Mr Ollivander could help the two of us today,” the light streaming in from the windows above reflects off Ollivander’s grey hair to create a glowing outline encircling him. His peculiar portrait reminds you of how idiosyncratic he is, like a living ghost who’s able to touch superior levels of magic and wonder. It's mysteriously intriguing but just as harrowing too. He was able to deduce so much after so short of an interaction, after all. You stare at him silently, a gentle prompt to help you and your eldest son with your homogenous need for a new wand. 

“I like to focus on one client at a time,” the look he gives you offers up the decision of who should go first to be made by your small family. 

Before you can say anything, Sirius speaks up with a light dusting of pink on his cheeks, “Ladies first, Mother,” he announces politely and your heart melts at his consideration. You coo and awe at his gesture while dropping down to his height where you press a loving kiss to his forehead. 

“Thank you, my darling. You’re such a gentleman,” Sirius beams at your praise as Regulus meets his eyes to the right of you and grins widely. The two easily share in the small joys they’ve been able to experience around you. They don’t want to seem rude so the two of them secretly cheer at the headache you suffered to be able to change this drastically, “However," you comb your fingers through his hair lovingly, "you’re the star of the show today. Why don’t you go first, my dear?”

Sirius doesn’t refute, too distracted and pink-cheeked by your affection to do anything but nod. He then turns to Ollivander, who smiles down at him kindly. The oddness surrounding the wand artisan, however, cannot be missed and Sirius is cautious to proceed forward. 

“Your name, young man?”

“Sirius Black,”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sirius. Please step behind the counter and we can get started on finding you the perfect wand, shall we?” Sirius glances one more time over his shoulder and observes the encouraging nod you give him; his heart calming from the reassuring pat you give atop his head. Another moment passes before he is led behind the counter by Ollivander. The elderly wizard proceeds to give him a short once-over before disappearing between two ceiling-tall shelves, stacked full of stored wands. 

“Do you want to watch your brother find his wand, Regulus?” you ask, kneeling to level with your youngest.

“Yes please, Mother,” he nods with a shy smile, “but I don’t know if I’m allowed past the counter,” 

“Don’t worry,” with a smile, you carry him up in your arms, “I can seat you on the counter instead,” for the brief moment you rise, he stays in your embrace. However, when you go to place him on the counter, you find that Regulus doesn’t want to be let go.

In a whisper, you ask if he’s alright, “Can you just hold me like this?...please?”  His answering whisper melts your heart and you can't find it in yourself to say no. Even if your arms begin to ache, you aren’t going to set him down until he wants to be set down – you’re determined! 

“You mean you don’t know which wand is for me?” Sirius’ words ring with curiosity more than judgment as he looks up at Ollivander. 

“I’m afraid not, my boy,”

“Aren’t you supposed to know?”

Smiling fondly, Ollivander begins to explain the process, happy to answer the questions of a curious child, “Ultimately, it is the wand that chooses the wizard, Mr Black,”

Sirius contemplates Ollivander’s words for a moment as Regulus gasps in astonishment beside your ear. The awe and interest are evident in the youngest’s silently twinkling grey eyes, matching that of his elder brother. Their wonderment is clear and both are equally skilful in concealing it.

“How will I know that a wand has chosen me?

“You’ll know,” Ollivander nods. There’s something in his pale eyes that makes Sirius keep from asking anything further. Something that says ‘trust me’.

Together, you and Regulus watch over the counter as Sirius tests out a variety of wands. 

At one point Sirius makes several misplaced papers catch fire, which makes you giggle quietly. Regulus stiffened in your arms momentarily at the sight of the sudden flames and only seemed to relax as soon as he heard your soft laughter. It isn't until he presses his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder that he finally draws your attention. It didn’t seem like an issue to press further about so you gave his��small back a few reassuring rubs and continued to watch over Sirius – perhaps Regulus was feeling a little exhausted already. Despite the disastrous flames, Ollivander had the situation handled and simply magicked away the fire before rummaging around for a different wand, muttering softly to himself as he did so. It wasn’t until Ollivander came back with a jet-black wand with familiar-looking markings carved along its body that you smiled to yourself. This was the one. 

“Try this...” Ollivander offers up the wand but after the previous incident, Sirius is much more hesitant to proceed. He was only able to resume the testing when Ollivander flashed him a kind, reassuring smile - though he remained hesitant and stiff. Sirius was too scared to turn and see your reaction to the commotion he had just caused. But it was an accident! Surely you’d understand– “Give it a wave, then, young man,” Ollivander's chuckle was able to ease some of the stiffness from his limbs as the markings beneath his fingers urged him for a sturdier grip before giving the black wand a small flick. 

Appearing from the tip of his wand, a small circulating breeze moves through the room, not caring for the mess it makes of any unfiled papers nor the rattling it causes amongst the stacked boxes of wands. The breeze eventually returns to circle Sirius, ruffling his hair and clothes before eventually dying down to leave him looking bedraggled.

The result was quite confusing to the ordinary eye, which worried you, but not for the elderly wand artisan. Ollivander slaps his knee and throws his head back with a laugh. “Now that’s a match if I’ve ever seen one!” His words make Sirius stare up at him with wide eyes of disbelief. 

“Really?”

Ollivander kneels beside him with a twinkle in his eye, “That’s quite a choosy wand, my boy. Wands made out of jet black Ebony are happiest when in the hands of those who are not afraid of being themselves, sticking to their beliefs no matter what external pressures there may be,” the elderly wizard’s words washed over Sirius and flooded him with a feeling of vindication. He felt light and there was a flutter in his chest. In his short life so far, it’s been so hard to adhere to his convictions, and he has never before felt so validated, “you, young man, have a very courageous heart,”  Ollivander’s words make you smile widely. 

You set Regulus down as Sirius makes his way back to you. The two brothers share a hug but Sirius is still unable to meet your eyes. It isn't until his younger brother pulls away from the embrace that Sirius finally wills himself to look up at you. Regulus can see the slight fear in his older brother’s eyes and he knows the exact cause; Regulus was scared too. Regardless, you haven’t done or said anything to further his fears so the younger brother tries his best to be optimistic and flashes his older brother a small smile as if to say ‘it’s going to be okay’. 

Biting his lip, Sirius finally turns to find that you’ve come down to his height. Rather than a scowl on your face for his earlier misbehaviour with the discordant wands, he finds you smiling brightly at him instead. Before he could comprehend what was happening, you pulled him into your arms. One hand presses against the back of his head and encourages him to bury his face into your shoulder as the other splays across his small back to give him supportive pats. 

Beside his ear, you whisper, “I’m so proud of you, Sirius,” pulling away your eyes find that his own have significantly watered, holding back tears. Tears of joy, you assess and deliver a small kiss on his forehead. 

“You’re not mad at me? For setting fire to the papers earlier?”

“Of course not!” you protest and pull him into your tight embrace once more, “I’d be surprised if I don’t set something on fire when trying to find a new wand too,” he giggles against your shoulder and it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard, “I’m so so proud of you Sirius, you have your wand now, and you’re going to be attending Hogwarts soon,” you sigh into his dark curls and mutter against his temple, “Far too soon…”

Relieved by your reaction, Sirius can finally digest your words and the sincere tone behind them. He’s never heard his mother praise him or voice how she’s proud of him but here you were, whispering rare words for him to hear only. He doesn’t know if he could ever feel happiness like this ever again. It’s hard for him to even describe - he’s just so so happy. 

It’s your turn to get a new wand now and the process is entirely the same. Ollivander goes through a selection of wands for you to test the feel of, giving each one a chance to see if they want to become your companion or not. After going through the first handful, you manage to light a stack of papers on fire yourself and when Ollivander swiftly distinguishes it, your group shares a laugh. 

“See? I told you it would happen to me too,” you smile over your shoulder at Sirius who giggles with his little brother. 

A few more inharmonious wands go by before Ollivander hands you one that's made of a light-coloured wood. The design of its body was very elegant and emulated a pattern that was reminiscent of vintage stone pillars. Widely spaced vertical ridges run along the main body and lead towards ornate, uniform designs that either look like curling leaves or crashing waves. It’s beautiful but what matters is whether or not the wand chooses you.

Flicking the wand, a spark of light escapes from the tip and you prepare yourself for another pile of papers to be set on fire. However, you’re pleasantly surprised when the light floats through the room as if it were swimming through water. It reaches Sirius and Regulus, where it proceeds to circle each of them before departing and leaving a warm touch that lingers on their cheek. The light eventually returns to you again, where it orbits your figure several times, enveloping your silhouette in an ethereal glow before disappearing. In its wake, it leaves a path of warmth that loiters in the air, suspended like the many particles of dust dancing in the light filtering in through the high windows.  

Smiling in success, you hold the wand to your chest and turn to your boys who had begun to cheer for you. You could have easily lost yourself in the moment if it weren’t for your keen ears picking up on Ollivander’s mutterings. His words were all in a whisper and not meant for anyone else’s ears.  

“How fascinating…” the elderly wizard smiles whimsically to himself again, “the singular wand whose properties are the precise opposite of the original became your destined companion,” you meet the pale, almost translucent eyes of the wand artisan, who smiles at you as soon as he finishes muttering to himself, “it’s truly an honour to be able to witness the pairing of an Applewood wand,”

“Why is that?” Regulus asks before you can even react. With a smile, Ollivander moves to the front of the counter and bows at the knees to his height. Their eyes lock like that of a patient but talented teacher and his diligent student. 

“There are many properties of a wand that can be attributed to the reasons why it chose its ultimate owner, one of which is its wood. Your brother,” Ollivander gestures to Sirius, “has himself a wand that is made of Ebony wood, while your mother has herself one that’s made of Applewood. Applewood wands are very powerful indeed, I can assure you of that,” you find yourself leaning closer, eager to learn more, just as much as your two sons were to learn of their mother and the nature of wands, “their owners are typically ones who harbour ambitious goals and even higher principles. As a result, there stands a positive correlation between possessors of Applewood wands and the life they tend to live,” your breath remains trapped in your throat, held there by anxiety as you tensely anticipate Ollivander’s successive words, “they live a life that is long and where they are well-loved,” the relief was great and one that you were desperate to maintain. You know what you're setting out to do is going to prove a difficult challenge but it is going to be worth it, as long as your two boys are happy and by your side.    

Together, both wands cost 14 galleons. And, despite the excitement you first held for meeting such a distinguished Harry Potter character, you were eager to leave, slightly scared of the amount of knowledge he potentially held. At the very least, you were able to depart on a good note

Naturally, the next order of business was to get all of Sirius’ robes and uniform at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions shop. That would be on the north side of Diagon Alley and, considering you were on the south side for Ollivander’s wand shop, you needed to direct your boys back up to the North. You admit, it was quite inefficient to go from Gringotts, which was North, to Ollivander’s (South), only to go back North when all the shops you had left to visit were up there. There were many shop names that you recognised on the way down, however, it was best to get the only singular South-side shop from your list out of the way so you could spend the rest of the afternoon easily hopping from shop to shop in the North-side. 

“What’s wrong, darling?” you ask, noticing that Sirius has been staring off in one direction for some time, completely motionless and glued into place. 

“Nothing… let’s go,” he grabs a fistful of your dress’ skirt but you already noticed what had captured his attention. 

“A joke shop…” a small grin tugs on the corners of your lips. You remember the child-like wonder that washed over you whenever you watched the scenes featuring Fred and George Weasley’s joke shop. This joke shop isn't theirs but you wonder if it’s just as remarkable. 

Sirius had no hope of ever convincing you to take a look, especially when most of today would be packed full of shopping at other shops for his supplies as a first year. In his insecurity, Sirius was only able to muster a quiet, “...yeah…” 

“What a good idea,” you smile brightly and take both their hands into yours, heading in the direction of the shop happily named, ‘Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop’, “Let’s have a little look shall we? A small detour like this can’t do much harm,” Sirius was smiling from ear to ear as soon as he overcame the shock your agreement brought, “Although, I'm afraid I won’t consider buying anything,” a treat like that is meant for another time...

“That’s okay!” Sirius cheers and hurries along, making it to the door before you could and holding it open for you. 

You’re beginning to realise a recurring discrepancy between the size of a shop’s exterior compared to its interior space; the joke shop is considerably larger on the inside compared to its outside appearance. It added to the joke factor of the store itself - how funny that it appeared so deviously small on the outside. 

The entrance was lined with shelves filled with an assortment of joke items, all were vibrant and eye-catching. It was hard to enforce any form of restraint when your eyes couldn’t stay in one place too long, nor could your feet. There were several other children with their parents roaming the galleries of jokester paraphernalia too. Only then were you finally able to focus your gaze on your two, fascinated boys, not wanting to lose them.

“How undignified!” your eyes roll at the scratchy, annoying voice that invades your head once more, “No child of mine should ever be seen in a Joke Shop!”

“Oh Shut up, let my kids be kids,” you retaliate, folding your arms loosely as you observe Sirius dragging around his younger brother by the hand. Regulus happily heeds, not needing to be dragged to be able to shadow his older brother. Nevertheless, their small hands remain connected. The scene made you smile warmly, they’re the cutest boys you’ve ever – you want to prolong their happiness and give them as many opportunities as possible to experience the same delights over and over again. 

“THEY’RE NOT YOUR KIDS!”

“YES. THEY. ARE!” shaking away Walburga’s shrill screams, you try to focus on the ground beneath you. It’s best to end this argument quickly, you don’t want to faint in the middle of a joke shop and ruin the day for your two boys; it's barely started. 

You didn’t prolong your stay but enough time was spent there for you to witness Sirius’ certain appeal towards a particular item: a purple box of stink pellets. Smiling to yourself, you make a mental note of the fact before leading your two boys out and back to the north side of Diagon Alley. 

It’s a relief that most shops offer delivery services, you don’t believe you would be able to carry all of your purchased items home. 

At Madam Malkin’s, you bought all the necessary uniforms and robes for Sirius to have. Being an established house and family, you were attended to right away despite your insistence on no special treatment. Sirius was then measured and the appropriate sizes for his robes and other items were brought back to be tried on. He looked somewhat embarrassed from the attention but you couldn’t help yourself. There are many joys of being a mother and one of them was the ability to brag about how beautiful and exemplary your child was. To anyone within earshot and to those who, both, cared and didn’t care to listen, you openly talked their ear off about Sirius. Said son grew redder and redder with each expression of praise that left your lips without an ounce of hesitation. 

Was he hearing right? You're just joking with him...but you sound so sincere. Surely those other people don't care, why are you such talk on them?!  

“He looks all grown up, I’m so so proud of him,” Sirius’ ear tinted a faint red. 

“I worry that he’ll attract too many girls’ attention and grow a bad reputation over breaking too many hearts. But, then again, look at his handsome face, of course, they would fall for my son,” Sirius looks to the side, trying to find interest in the cracks of the shop’s walls -- a weak attempt at distracting himself from the flames in his cheeks. 

“I can already tell! He’s going to achieve so many great things, I just know it!” Sirius looks over and narrows his eyes at his giggling younger brother. Wait until he has to go through the same thing when he starts his first year! 

“Yes yes, I know your son looks wonderful in his robes too but look at my son! His robes look like they were made for him!” try as he might, Sirius can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips. His heart swells up in his chest and threatens to burst from the amount of happiness your endless praise fosters in him. 

Just as the checklist states, you made sure to get three sets of plain work robes in black, a pointed hat, a protective pair of dragon hide gloves, a black winter coat with silver fastenings and, lastly, name tags to attach to all items. The total amounted to 28 galleons and 44 sickles. Madam Malkins offered a service that stitched on the name tags for you but you kindly refused. It’s a tedious task but you wanted to stitch the name tags on yourself; you had the time and you wanted to do your due diligence as a mother. This is your job and you aren’t going to hand it over to anyone else. You were told to expect the owl delivery within a week. 

“How about a break?” you suggest upon seeing a sudden fall in your boys’ energy. Their once slumped shoulders suddenly tense and the two peer up at you with cautious eyes. Despite the amount of progress you’ve made in cultivating a mutual rapport with them, it appears that some phrases put them on high alert regardless of the harmonic atmosphere. 

“It’s okay mother,” Regulus hurriedly assures, his smile now much smaller and wrinkled at the edges from superficially conjectural nerves. 

“Yeah, we’re not tired, we can continue shopping just fine,” Sirius continues, reaching out to hold hands with his brother as they stand before you with identical ambivalent expressions. It breaks your heart. Their words are simple but their actions are heavily veneered by a thin veil of coy nonchalance. 

“Aren’t you two hungry?” you ask, crouching down to meet at their level, where you’ve gotten into the habit of being able to converse deeply with them. Keeping their gaze, holding each other’s attention and listening closely has led to so much understanding and that’s all you want with them. 

They look at each other from your question. Sirius can see the obvious hesitation in his younger brother’s eyes and he gives his hand a small squeeze. Usually, Sirius was the more outspoken one, never letting his fears show while allowing his tongue to run and verbalise all the thoughts and opinions in his head. It was his small bit of freedom in a house that was so set on censoring him and his many opposing views, despite his young age. Oftentimes, his parents would guilt him into thinking that he was being a bad influence on Regulus, simply by voicing his views, which are usually opposite to those of his parents. Regulus had a much softer disposition, however. While Sirius carried about smug confidence and had a deficiency for self-preservation, Regulus reigned in studiousness and quiet wit. Sirius knows that his younger brother is gifted but his bright mind shouldn’t be cultivated under such oppressive practices and methods. If that happened, Sirus feared that his darling, little brother's gift would be reduced to nothing. There's no way that Sirius would let that happen to his baby brother, which is why he’s so vocal! But… what's changed? 

Now he was hesitating, his throat clogged up, his palms were sweaty…he was scared. Scared to have you look at him with disapproval or disappointment. Sirius doesn’t know what happened to you, his mother, but you’re different now, he wants to love you and be loved in return. You’ve shown him that you can give the tenderness he desires, you’ve proven that he’s loveable and that he’s worth your time and attention. 

He’s scared because if he makes a single misstep now… he’s going to lose that. It’s much harder losing something you’ve known, felt, and experienced than losing something that never existed in the first place…

“My dears?” you whisper with concern, leaning forward ever so slightly with furrowed brows of worry, “what’s wrong?”

“We’ll have to go home to eat…” Regulus confesses softly. He avoids your eyes as he fiddles with the hem of his long-sleeved shirt and completely misses the confused look on your face. 

“It is not proper to conclude important errands prematurely,” Sirius explains as if reciting from a rulebook,  “...and we don’t want to go home yet either…”

“We’re not stopping entirely,” you reassure, petting their soft hair affectionately and rewarding them with a kind smile as soon as they raise their hopeful faces to you, “we’re just having a lunch break, my loves,” 

“You mean…” Sirius begins. 

“We’re eating outside?” Regulus continues. Both look astonished at the notion. 

“Of course, it’s better than eating back at home,” it then occurs to you a simple explanation for their odd behaviour, “Do you two not want to eat outside?”

“No!” Sirius jumps over-excited before a flash of realisation flourishes in his grey eyes and he quickly drops back, “No, it’s not that, m-mother,” 

“W-we’ve just never eaten outside before,” Regulus explains shyly, “you have us on a strict dietary regime as a proper gentleman wizard of the Black family should be,”

“I’m putting a stop to that ridiculous ‘diet’ as soon as we get back,” they perk up at you but are quickly ushered forward to the nearby pub; unable to press you further on the matter.

Stepping into the Leaky Cauldron, you're greeted by the comforting aroma of hearty meals, mingling with the faint scent of crackling firewood and a faint fog of cigarette smoke. The space is a cosy retreat from the chaotic cobblestone streets outside. From the ceiling hangs several candle-lit chandeliers made of blackened iron, its flickering lights casting a warm glow upon the worn wooden tables and mismatched chairs positioned about the room. The walls are lined with shelves displaying an eclectic assortment of magical curiosities - from peculiar potion ingredients preserved in jars to enchanted artefacts that seem to hum with hidden power. An array of portraits decorate two parallel walls above brick archways. The portraits contain inky sketches that move about freely, some interacting with other portraits as a few characters walk between the varying displays. You guess they might be disappointed to realise that their selection of landscapes are largely the same - plain - but having the freedom seemed sufficient for them to stay jovial enough. At the heart of the room stands a grand fireplace, its flames dancing merrily within its brick frame. Its ochre light casts playful shadows across the room, socialising with the silhouettes of fellow bar guests.

Lighting within the pub relied heavily on candles so the atmosphere was quite dim but the tall candle illuminating the centre of your table gave the time spent there a very idyllic ambience. The two were unfamiliar with the menu items so, with their permission and trust, you ordered in their place.

Since Sirius didn’t mind what he got, you ordered for him Hunter’s Chicken. Regulus said he had a liking for fish so you got him a classic plate of Fish and Chips. For yourself, you got the cottage pie. For drinks, they got apple juice while you had a hot tea. Thinking back on the bland meals served at the Black family household, you’re certain that they were in for a treat today. 

It doesn’t take long for the meals to be given out after your beverages; thankfully all of your entrees were delivered together. In front of Sirius were two succulent chicken breasts wrapped in smoky bacon and smothered in a rich and tangy barbecue sauce, baked to golden-brown perfection. 

He takes his first bite and moans in amazement at the taste. The tender chicken yields effortlessly to reveal layers of savoury goodness - the sweet and smoky notes of the bacon harmonising with the bold tanginess of the barbecue sauce. Every mouthful he takes thereafter struggles between going slow or fast, the symphony of textures and tastes, leaves him craving more of the hearty dish. He doesn’t think he’s ever tasted something so appetising. Why couldn’t the food at home taste like this?

Regulus had before him a plate displaying a golden fillet of flaky fish. It’s encased in a light and crispy batter, served alongside a generous helping of thick-cut, crispy-on-the-outside-fluffy-on-the-inside chips, garden peas and a small ceramic of tartar sauce. Having not seen this appearance of a fish dish before, Regulus looks up at you with a curious look as if to say ‘What is this?’. You greet his curiosity with a sympathetic but patient gaze. 

Gently, you urge him to squeeze the lemon slice over the battered fish and nod when he timidly follows your instruction, “Now give it a try, my darling, I promise you’ll like it,” 

…and like it, he did!  

With each bite, Regulus is met with satisfying crunch after satisfying crush. The exterior is perfectly fried, giving way to the tender fish within. The delicate cod melts in his mouth, introducing the delicate flavour of the fish, complemented by a sprinkle of salt and the squeeze of fresh lemon. Together they create a harmonious balance of savoury and tangy notes that dance happily over his palate. 

“It’s delicious Mother!” Regulus grins with partially stuffed cheeks and crumbs of the batter decorating his lips. Sirius nods enthusiastically beside him, unable to speak from stuffing his mouth full of his chicken dish. 

“Big brother, you have to try some!” you watch with a heart swelling up from adoration and pride as Regulus offers a big chunk of his fish and places it onto his brother’s plate. 

“You too Reggie!” Sirius does the same with his chicken, generously offering up a portion from his plate. Once the two try a bite of each other’s meal, an explosion of ardour lights up their grey eyes, creating a galaxy of endless constellations in their wake. They are so precious. 

Giggling at their antics, you turn to your dish and begin to eat. In all honesty, seeing them enjoying their food for the first time had your stomach already halfway full. So you happily offered a portion of your cottage pie as well. They wanted to say no but you were much too convincing and when they offered a bite of their dishes, you explained that you were already getting full. 

They were named after stars but at this moment, their eyes held a galaxy of their own, just from tasting a delicious meal. You want to see them like this all the time…maybe you should begin cooking in the kitchen again? It was a hobby of yours that you enjoyed, baking too but found limited time to partake in it when your business had exponential growth.

Throughout the meal, you often forgot your unfinished plate to be able to tend to your boys. They’re not usually this messy but they were enjoying their food so well that they couldn’t help themselves. They haven’t tasted food this good before! 

“You two are so messy,” you joke, giggling to yourself as you reach over with a napkin to wipe at the edges of their mouths while they chew their food. A look of shame crosses their adorable, sweet faces and they slow their mastication, avoiding your gaze. 

“Sorry mother,” Regulus apologises meekly as Sirius mutters a similar apology beside him. 

“Whatever for?” you pout at them, “I love seeing you enjoying your meals so much,” their expressions relax slightly when they turn to gaze up to witness your kind smile, “maybe I should get a cookbook and begin cooking up some delicious meals at home for you two, hmm?” a wide grin overcomes them, their astonishment quickly washing away from their elation at the prospect.  

“Really mother?!” hopefulness makes Regulus’ voice raise an octave higher as Sirius bashfully stares up at you. 

“You’d do that?... For us?” Sirius’ voice comes out unusually shy. 

“Of course,” you shrug nonchalantly, trying to temper your exuberant grin, “I was getting tired of the dull, tasteless meals anyway,”

The main topic for the next visit was Eeylops Owl Emporium. 

In your head, you remember the dark feathered owl Sirius owned in the films who had a horrible habit of biting people. Surely it wouldn’t affect the timeline drastically if you bought a different owl for him. It’s been on your mind how you would like to write letters to Sirius regularly, especially during his first year. You might even convince Regulus to join you so you could send your letters together; you didn’t want your son getting bit every time you wrote a letter to him so you’ll be getting him a different bird for all prospective deliveries. 

Upon entering the shop, you encourage your boys to explore and keep a lookout for an owl that would be suitable for Sirius to have for school. In the meantime, you tried to pinpoint the owl with the terrible biting habit so that you may be able to steer Sirius away from ever encountering the bird. You don’t understand why Sirius would have ever decided to get a bird like that in the first place so if he manages to find it before you and decides he wants it, you don’t know how you’ll be able to convince him otherwise— 

“That insolent thing bit me!” as the original Walburga’s voice enters your head, an image of the familiar black-feathered owl flashes behind your eyelids. 

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

‘The amber-eyed owl, quick as lightning, launches its head forward with a vicious snapping of its beak. Successful in its attack, you reel your arm back – except it’s notyourarm – with a shriek of fright and pain. Upon looking down, you observe the torn fabric of your sleeve as well as the lacerated skin of your arm – still not your arm – which begins to bleed a crimson red. Anger and embarrassment flood your veins as you prepare to curse at the insolent thing but stop when your eyes lock onto the hidden smirk of your eldest son. 

“I want that one,” he says, a devious twinkle in his eyes. Before you could protest, his negligent and, often, preoccupied father, steps towards the shop clerk to request the owl for purchase. Orion hadn’t seen the vicious beast attacking you; too eager to return to his work and rushing through the list of school supplies needed for Sirius' first year. The man you call your husband only has himself to blame for waiting so late, only a week was left before Sirius had to depart for Hogwarts but, thankfully, most delivery services didn’t require that long to complete shipment.

“Let's hurry along then,” Orion clicks his tongue in displeasure over the sudden slowing of everyone’s pace, “we must be done by noon, I have better things to be doing!”

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Wh-what the–?” blinking rapidly, your vision of the present slowly returns as you reach out to grasp onto something just to steady yourself. Unlike all other squabbles, the original Walburga doesn’t return to elaborate in her screeching voice; she is unusually silent but you’re too dazed to point it out. 

You don’t realise what’s happened until you’re flinging your arm back with a sharp cry, cradling your arm to your chest. 

“Mother!” Regulus runs up to you with furrowed brows marked by distress, “Are you okay?” he reaches for your arm and you bashfully show him your injury, inflicted onto you by a black-feathered owl. The cheeky thing tilts its head at you as if it’s done nothing wrong and merely proceeds to preen its feathers, unbothered by the whole ordeal – so rude.

“Not that one,” Sirius glares at the malevolent bird, narrow eyes filled with malice before turning to you with a softened look of concern. 

“It’s alright my darlings,” you smile reassuringly at them both, “it’s just a scratch, let’s look for a different owl, alright?” 

It took a while to calm the boys enough to distract them from the mishap and finally return to the task at hand. You're injured but you, thankfully, didn’t have to do much to convince Sirius about choosing another owl. Only… The fact that your injury looks identical to the one that appeared on the arm of (what you assume) is the original Walburga’s vision, was disconcerting. 

You make mental notes of everything that happened in the short period, not wanting to ponder on the sinister details just yet, not when you were having such a fun day with your two boys. 

In the end, Sirius settles on a majestic barn owl with beautiful gold and white feathers. The shopkeeper informed you that the owl was a female as he prepared all the additional items you wanted to have with the owl; treats, a small care guide, its cage, water bowl, food bowl, and all of its necessities. You don’t want to acknowledge the shopkeeper’s suspicious gaze as it periodically falls on you. It was beginning to make you feel self-conscious and you’re eager to distract your racing mind. This was probably all original Walburga’s doing. You know how much of a bitch she is but her reputation is proving to be incredibly troublesome when it comes to interacting with other people. 

“What will you name her, Sirius?” you ask, hoping your voice doesn’t give away your discomfort. Thankfully, your question is a good distraction for everyone, including the shopkeeper. 

“I don’t know…” Sirius ponders to himself, “Maybe… hmmm… Owletta,” he grins cheekily, proud of himself for the creative name. You can already see the marauder in him and it makes you grin as well. 

“That sounds very fitting,” you wink at him as Regulus giggles to himself, enjoying the given name as well, “great choice,”

“What happened to the last owl you purchased?” the shopkeeper asks suddenly, finally finished with preparing all the items and eying you warily. You feel Sirius and Regulus’ eyes on you from his question as well and hurry to make an excuse. This situation has grown very uncomfortable.  

“Last owl?”

“Yes, the screech owl, from last week,”

“It was for a gift…to a friend,” you smile innocently despite your awkward wording, grateful that the shopkeeper doesn’t ask any further questions although he does appear reluctant to hand over Owletta. But with an impatient flap of her large wings, he hands her over inside her cage. She probably felt the taut tension of indecision in the air far worse than you.  

“10 galleons…” you gladly hand over payment and usher your boys out. 

This has the original Walburga's name written all over it. 

Continuing with the shopping, your next stop was Flourish and Blotts for Sirius’ books. The list of publications needing to be purchased was long, amounting to eight volumes of knowledge ranging from magical creatures to history and magic theory. You were tempted to read through the books yourself and learn a thing or two but didn’t want to appear lacking. As unfortunate as it is, you’re supposed to be the Walburga Black, a very proud, ‘high-class’ witch within the wizarding world, meaning that you had to be proficient in, at least, 1st year of wizarding knowledge.  

Fortunately, there was an owl delivery option for the books, which saves you from carrying the heavy load but you’re beginning to feel sad for the poor owls subjected to delivering such a package. Not only that but you worried for your poor Sirius’ little shoulders and arms having to carry around those heavy books at Hogwarts. You hope to god there’s a magic bag that could carry many things without transferring the weight onto you. From the books and the delivery fee, everything costs 14 galleons in total. 

It wasn’t listed on the official school supplies list but you had the foresight to go to Scribbulus Writing Instruments to buy an assortment of inks, quills and parchment. Sirius and Regulus were fascinated by the colour-changing inks available, some transitioning between two to three colours and some cycling through much more. At first, you found it odd that they hadn’t encountered such a simple and commonplace magical item before until you remembered their parents and all the unfortunate implications that came with that realisation. It made your fists clench in anger and had you impulsively buying a small pot of each colour-changing ink to the surprise and subsequent delight of your two boys. 

“Y-you didn’t have to do that Mother,” Regulus comments shyly with a soft pink glow dusting his cheeks as he cradles a small pot of colour-changing ink in his little hands. That particular one was his favourite, if you remember correctly, it transitioned through an array of blue hues. He looks so adorable; you don’t know how you were able to resist reaching down to pinch at his pudgy cheeks. 

“Of course, I had to,” you huff with a playful sternness before leaning down and bringing them in close to whisper for their ears only, it was as if you were telling a century-old secret. Intrigued by your actions, they lean in with rounded eyes of wonder, “But promise not to tell your father, he doesn’t deserve to know about our secret ink stash,” Sirius grins mischievously as Regulus' cheeks dimple. Nodding firmly at each other, your agreement was sealed and the three of you continued with your shopping spree. 

The next stop was Potage’s Cauldron Shop, where you purchased a small cauldron before getting potioneer equipment and a telescope from Wisearce’s Wizardry Equipment. Again, like all the shops before, it was incredibly touching to be able to see your son's eyes sparkle in fascination and wonderment. You can practically hear their thoughts. Even though Regulus has to wait another year before he can attend Hogwarts, they’re both glowing with enthusiasm and alacrity to learn and experience something new. It just makes your heart ache a little over how you’re going to be mostly absent from that venture, seeing as Hogwarts is a boarding school. In the meantime, you’ll savour having them with you now and spending the little time you have with Sirius worthwhile and carry that on with Regulus while his older brother is at school creating chaos with the rest of the marauders.   

Sirius’ assortment of school equipment was quickly piling up and so was his excitement. It was an excitement that proved to be very contagious as Regulus stood to his right, absorbing the delight that flowed from him in wave after beautiful wave. Seeing such precious smiles on their faces, it was hard to believe that the first day or so was filled with them fixing you with permanent scowls or passive expressions that were too mature and ill-suited to their youthful faces. These gorgeous smiles suited them a lot more… and you want to keep it that way. 

Stepping back out onto the cobblestone streets, you look around with your mental list of shops that still need visiting but find your gaze stopping on the sign of a quaint, unassuming shop dubbed ‘Belby’s Potions and Ingredients’. You don’t remember ever hearing of a shop like this being in Diagon Alley but that’s to be expected, the world building wasn’t very expansive in the Harry Potter movies or books when it came to Diagon Alley, and this is without considering that you were in a different era of the Harry Potter Universe. You’ve already come across some shops that you’ve never heard of before but sit comfortably, right at home, amongst the other recognisable shops in the district; this one in particular shouldn't strike you as so intriguing.

“Is that where we’re going next, mother?” Sirius speaks up, snapping you out of your dazed state. 

Smiling shyly, you make a small confession, “It’s not part of the list, I’m just hoping for a little detour to get you familiar with potion ingredients before school," you skillfully fib, "is that okay with you boys?” asking for their opinion and giving them a choice to agree or disagree always seemed to make them happy. It’s a freedom and a luxury, that they were rarely given when under the real Walburga’s ‘care’ so they were more than happy to oblige. 

“Of course that’s alright,” Regulus looks past the skirt of your black dress to meet eyes with his brother, “right, Sirius?”

“Yeah!” grinning happily, they hold your hands in their much smaller ones and start pulling you along to the shop, their enthusiasm making appear like normal, happy kids, “let’s go, mother!”

Looking up at the sign once more, you allow your curiosity to spring forward. Indeed, you can’t recognise this shop before your transfer into the Harry Potter, Marauders era universe but the name ‘Belby’ definitely piqued your interest. It’s on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t quite place where you recognise the name. 

Entering the shop, you were presently enticed by the entirely separate atmosphere it presented. Unlike most of the other shops that were, either, barely lit or bursting with colour, the atmosphere of this shop was remarkably serene. It was pleasant. A good change of pace. Switching from two extremes of decoration, it was relieving to finally find one that danced in the middle, leaning towards an aesthetic that was homey and unsophisticated. 

Your two boys were quick to begin surveying the shelves of products themselves - a library of carefully crafted potions and their ingredients. It was clear that they too, were welcomed and put at ease by the cottage-core aesthetic of the dwelling. There were dried bunches of flora hanging from the walls and ceiling, some with cute blossoms, frozen in their prime, whilst other herbage sported brittle stems and frail, veiny leaves. The colours of the ingredients and tightly packed potions meticulously measured into phials were somewhat muted but in a very pretty sense. It was like opening a beloved, ageing book and diving into its wondrous, antiquated tales, freckled with wise passages that transcend all time and languages. The shop was very small but also very charming and well-loved; you felt right at home.

As your two boys weave through the isles of merchandise, a genial voice calls out to you, “Welcome to Belby’s Potions and Ingredients, I’m Damocles Belby, how can I help you today?” at the front counter, you observe a man in his mid-thirties with a full beard and moustache framing a no-eye smile. Slowly easing himself out of his merry greeting, his eyelids unfurl to reveal a beautiful pair of honey-amber eyes. He looks kind; his affable demeanour is just as welcoming as his cosy shop. 

“Hello sir,” you hope your smile conveys, at least, half of the warmth of his own, “I’m just taking a look around, thank you,” he gives a soft ‘ahh’ of acknowledgement before nodding, “My two boys are also around here somewhere. My eldest son will be starting his first year at Hogwarts next month so I wanted him to get a little familiar with the potion ingredients he’ll be encountering at school,”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” Damocles grins in approval, chuckling to himself at your chest swelling with pride for your son, “what is your son’s name?”    

“Sirius Black,” you announce fondly, the friendly atmosphere coming to a screeching halt when realisation washes over Damocles’ features. The once cordial air has plunged to freezing temperatures within seconds, prickling your skin with goosebumps. 

“M-madam Black,” he greets formally with a bow of his head. It’s clear that Walburga’s reputation is notoriously menacing but you’re not her and you kindly ask that he refrain from such discretionary (in your eyes) behaviour. 

“I’m simply a mother to my sons and a wife to my husband,” a disgusting, pile of shit that’s a complete waste of oxygen, who doesn’t deserve the title of father or husband, “that is all,” your answer doesn’t soothe him as you’d hoped it would but your attentions are soon required elsewhere when you’re both drawn to an even cosier corner of the store. 

Led there by the whisperings of your two sons, both accompanied by a tired yet melodious voice, you are greeted with the most charming sight — your boys sitting at the foot of a rocking chair, where a frail but equally kind-looking woman slumps into, her pale blue eyes shining with fondness at them as she embroiders a shimmering pink thread into a plain square of cloth in her lap. She’s dressed modestly, with her top hiding her arms in long lantern sleeves as her collar stretches up her neck. The long skirt of her dress looks layered, puffing up at the sides of her seat and what little skin you would have seen at her ankles are covered in thick socks. You wonder if she’s cold at all. Or maybe she’s just a very unobtrusive person with a likeness for coquettish and demure fashions.      

“How do you know how to make the flowers if you don’t draw them first?” Regulus asks, peering over her lap in an attempt to catch sight of her work between her elegantly working hands. 

Sirius nods and adds to the conversation with his question, “Yeah, and why aren’t you using magic like everyone else?” 

“It comes with a lot of practice,” she answers your baby first before turning to your slightly older baby, “and I do it because I enjoy embroidering; besides…” she turns her work over to them, allowing you a glimpse of her masterpiece as well, “it always looks prettier when I embroider it myself,” your two boys ‘ooo~’ and ‘aaah~’ at her work. The interaction draws a soft giggle from you while the shopkeeper beside you sighs quietly – he sounds relieved. 

“Are you feeling better, my dear?” Damocles steps up to his wife, placing one hand on the head of the cane that’s kept beside her rocking chair. His other hand reaches up to curl his fingers into a shy ringlet of her blonde hair. They are a loving couple, a 'one true pair'. 

“Mr Belby, you need to stop being such a worrier,” his wife chides playfully at him, abandoning her embroidery to smile lovingly at her husband, “and besides, there’s nothing for you to fret about when I’m around such good company,” her comment makes you smile widely, proud that your two boys were growing a reputation of their own, ones separate from the infamous Black family. You can handle the stares and uncomfortable accommodations for your prominence but you wouldn't stand for them to experience it too. 

“Right, of course,” Damocles nods with a short but airy chuckle and nods at the boys thankfully when they shuffle their way back to you. Sirius and Regulus had never seen such an affectionate couple before; their parents weren’t like that. And, although they wish they could grow up under such a soft and healthy model of love, they know that it wouldn’t be possible; to them, mothers and fathers don’t normally show affection for each other and that was how it was going to stay between their parents. There was no use in hoping. 

“You must be these two young men’s mother,” Damocles’ wife meets your gaze and smiles, her beauty unable to be masked by her pronounced ailment, “My name is Ruth Belby, I see you’ve already met my worry-wart of a husband,” the two of you share a laugh before you’re able to introduce yourself as well. Unlike her spouse, Ruth's first reaction was not fear but rather surprise, an astonishment that quickly melted into a soft smile. 

“You two have a very lovely shop,” Sirius and Regulus nod eagerly by your sides, agreeing with your comment, “it’s so much cosier than all the other shops around here,”

Damocles’ expression softens, his eyes mirroring sweet honey before he presses a kiss to his wife’s temple, “It’s all because of my wife’s keen eye, I catered this place solely for her palates’ enjoyment,” 

“I’m very lucky in that sense,” Ruth’s twinkling laugh rings out as quickly as it gives way to a coughing fit. It sounds as though she’s trying to hack up a serrated knife, the sound of it making all witnesses' hearts shake with panic except for Damocles', who rushes about to quell her discomfort. He hides his worries well. His expression is completely neutral as he offers her a crisp glass of water, however, his other hand reveals his true sentiments – his true fretfulness. As soon as she's had her fill of the glass, Damocles offers up a phial of magenta liquid that you’re all too familiar with, “darling, there’s no need for that,” Ruth’s nose scrunches up at the appearance of the healing potion. 

“It’s for your own good, please Ruth. I only want for you to feel better, my dear,” she grumbles and whines but eventually gulps down the healing potion, taking a moment to get over the ghastly taste before changing the topic. Your eyes fall onto her with sympathy. That potion is truly disgusting. 

“That’s enough about me, I hear that this young man is going to be attending Hogwarts,” Ruth gestures to Sirius as you fondly bring up a hand to comb your fingers through his perfectly permed hair. 

“Yes, he’s growing up far too quickly…” you hum, melancholic despite only being with your newly acquired sons for a little over a week. Sirius’ ears tint a soft pink and he shyly peeks up at you with pouting lips. 

“Growing up is normal…” he utters like a grump. 

“I know,” you sigh in gentle acceptance, “but I quite like you as you are right now,” Sirius’ eyes widen in disbelief and his cheeks burn as pink as his ears. It’s an expression that makes you smile warmly, you like the appearance of it on him, he needs to express it more often, “I want you to stay like this with me just a little bit longer, is that too much to ask?” 

“...not really,” you didn’t expect him to answer but it was in a whisper so you had to lean down ever so slightly to hear him clearer, “I’ll try to stay like this a little longer for you…if you want,” his comment, heard by you and Ruth, have you both cooing at him as Regulus grins hard enough for his dimples to show again; his older brother’s rose-red face is so funny to look at! 

When it comes time for you, Regulus and Sirius to leave, you thought it would just be a regular goodbye but not for your two boys. They've made good friends with the couple, especially Ruth so a memorable adieu was in order. 

Regulus bows to Ruth like a true gentleman while Sirius places a small kiss on her knuckles, whereby he then turns to his younger brother and says verbatim: that’s how a true gentleman bids farewell to a beautiful lady. The gesture of your eldest made Damocles’ eyes bulge out as Ruth laughed aloud, her shoulders shaking as her eyes lit up in glee. It's a relief that she didn't have a coughing fit this time. You, yourself, don’t know why you were so surprised. It appears as though Sirius’ philanderer ways didn’t start in Hogwarts; he already had the potential even before attending the boarding school. 

With another wave of your hand and a glance over your shoulder, you leave the couple whilst leading your two boys to the door in front of you. 

It was then that you saw it… 

In Ruth, you saw your past self. It was like looking into a mirror, a mirror into the past where you couldn’t have children no matter how desperately you wanted to have ones of your own. Like you, she probably had a list of names picked out in her head already. Like you, she probably pictured their innocent, beautiful faces in the appearance of other children. Like you, she envied the mothers who were able to conceive and desperately wished for a miracle to happen only for that miracle to never materialise. It was a mix of hopeless yearning and doleful forbearance. From your peripheral, you discern a similar impression on Damocles as he stands beside his ill-stricken wife. 

Damocles Belby… why does that name sound so familiar to you?  

The boys did so well today. It was long and arduous and you could see the sun beginning to set, however, it’s never too late for–

“Ice cream?” Regulus asks with glittering grey eyes. 

“We can have two scoops each,” you announce, eager to reward yourself as well, “we deserve something delicious for our hard work today,” Regulus was bouncing on the soles of his feet, something both you and Sirius noticed.  

“You can go first Reggie,” Sirius smiles at his little brother, who turns to you with pleading eyes.

“Can I choose my flavours myself?” he asks to which you smile and nod. Eagerly, he looks through the collection of available ice cream and decides to go for, “one scoop of strawberry and peanut butter, and one scoop of apple crumble please,” he seems proud of his order and is soon savouring it with the happiest expression on his face. It’s unexpected but he, undoubtedly, has a sweet tooth. A studious, quiet boy with a secret love for sweet things - how charming and precious. 

“Can I have one scoop of the clotted cream, and one scoop of the sticky toffee pudding please,” just like Regulus, Sirius was soon delving into his ice cream too, both teetering on the edge of wanting to devour the rare, cold treat whilst also trying to make it last as long as possible. You giggle at their antics briefly before ordering your own two scoops from the same vendor who smiles at you kindly. In his gaze and wrinkled but dexterous fingers, familiar and elegant with their motions, express a love for his craft and a love for those who show their appreciation of it – the simple act of enjoying their ice cream was payment enough to him. 

“Thank you kindly, sir,”

“Not at all mam, enjoy yer ice creams,” the man offers a slight tip of his head upon accepting payment. 

On a nearby bench, Sirius, Regulus and you sit quietly together and finish your doubly topped cones, taking the time to observe passing wizards and witches while enjoying the little time you have left of your day out shopping. You don’t think the day could have gone any better, and Sirius and Regulus don’t think anything would be able to transcend the fun they’ve had. 

Meeting each other’s eyes, Sirius and Regulus silently agree that today has been the best day they’ve ever had, not knowing that you have plenty of great days lined up for them. 

NEXT. | 04 : BEGINNINGS → | SERIES M.LIST

A/N : it's finally here, my promised, final update before i go on my hiatus. i'm sorry it took me so long to get out to you darlings. after my indefinite hiatus announcement, i got really busy. however, i'm sure you darlings would be happy to know that my situation has gotten better. it's not to the point that i feel like i can comfortably write but i'm definitely getting there so i can confidently say that I can see myself returning from my hiatus later on this year. in the mean time, i hope you darlings enjoy this chapter and please take care! i love you all so much and i'll see you soon x 

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[bobohu4eva]

Hitched (M)

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: arranged marriage au, acquaintances(?) to lovers, smut

Summary: Can great sex make an unwanted marriage less shitty? Yes. Yes it can.

Warnings: explicit unprotected sex, semi public (outdoor) sex, edging, Baekhyun has a Big Dick, alcohol consumption

WC: 9.8k apparently I don't know how to keep things brief anymore!

A/N: The majority of this is extremely self-indulgent smut. Oops? You're welcome? It is (mostly) pretty soft though.

Masterlist

“Smile!” 

The cameras flashed, and you put on a show for your friends and family. Your new husband kissed you, and from the outside, everything seemed perfect. 

The perfect dress, makeup, hair, a rich and handsome groom, and everyone you cared about right there with you, celebrating you and the man who was supposed to be the love of your life. It was a lavish ceremony and even more opulent reception, but you couldn't enjoy it at all. 

There was nothing wrong with him, but you and Baekhyun had never even dated, and you definitely never pictured yourself marrying him. You didn't exactly have any reason to dislike him, you'd known him since you were a kid and he was undoubtedly an attractive guy, but marrying him had been your parents idea, not yours. 

As a kid your family had everything you could've imagined, foreign sports cars, numerous vacation homes, a yacht, nannies, tutors, and the list goes on. Your parents' companies had been doing well, and life was easy. 

But that didn't last forever. Now in your early 20’s, you watched as the fortune your family had built for generations was slipping away. 

You were still a teenager when it started and couldn’t fully comprehend what had happened, but it seemed like some combination of bad investments and unpaid debts. Slowly the vacation homes, yacht, and cars were sold off one by one just to pay the bills. As the years passed it seemed that the walls were starting to close in, but on the surface your family, especially your mother, made sure it didn't seem that way. 

The good family name was pretty much all that was left now, and your mother would do anything she could to keep it strong. 

Growing up with generational wealth, your family always associated with others of similar standing, and one of the families you'd grown up with had been particularly close; the Byuns. 

Their only son, Baekhyun, was someone you'd grown up around, but at seven years older than you, you hardly knew each other. He was the perfect rich kid, smart, handsome, and polite, but you still would've much preferred to marry someone you actually loved, or at least were close with. 

“Y/n, you're doing it again.” He whispered in your ear, and you realized that your smile had once again fallen as you zoned out, and his mother was right there in front of you, looking concerned. 

You perked back up, and saw her face flood with relief. You looked at Baekhyun, and he was still smiling for the pictures as well, but you noticed the slightly apologetic look he shot you. 

You really did try to play the part, for the sake of your families, but it was hard. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life, but instead you were putting on an act, hiding how miserable you felt under the facade of it all. 

The worst part was just how happy both his and your families were. Both moms cried, and even your dad teared up a little. You couldn't even blame them, either. It had been a beautiful ceremony, and you and him both looked the part so perfectly. It was everything a high society wedding should be, and on top of that, it was the only thing saving your family from bankruptcy. 

Once pictures were done with it was time for the first dance- in a gazebo decorated with fairy lights and at least a thousand fresh white roses. All you could think was how incredible this would have been, if it was a real wedding, between two people who actually loved each other. Every beautiful thing was a cruel reminder of how you would never get to experience that for yourself.

Baekhyun did a better job than you, and if you hadn't been so depressed, you might've even gotten flustered a few times. He looked incredibly handsome in his tux, smiling sweetly at you as he led you through the dance, a painfully romantic song filling the spring air. He was the picture perfect groom. 

You so badly wanted to hate him for agreeing to all of it, but knew it was more complicated than that. Despite not knowing him very well, you did know how close knit his family was. If his parents really wanted him to do this, he would have a tough time refusing. 

You were closer with his parents than you had ever been with him, and they adored you. Despite not being related, you almost thought of them like your own aunt and uncle. Baekhyun, on the other hand, was like your mysterious older cousin. He always seemed preoccupied with his studies, or later, his job. You'd been around each other at holidays and various parties throughout the years, but he never felt approachable. 

To act so romantically with him felt unbelievably strange. On top of your disappointment at the whole situation it was also just very awkward. The kissing and touching, the dancing, the “loving” looks you shared, they all made your chest feel tight. Baekhyun was obviously very handsome, but the nature behind all of it still got to you. 

Before the wedding Baekhyun had asked you if you would rather not kiss or touch at all, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you'd assured him that it was fine. Aside from the parents and those closest to you both, most of the guests had no idea this wedding had been arranged just a few months earlier. If this was going to be believable, you had to make it look real. 

Eventually the dancing ended and the reception began, relieved beyond belief to finally get to have a drink. The champagne made things much easier, and as distant friends and family asked you and your new husband about your love story, you lied with increasing confidence. Baekhyun, too, was leaning into the act more heavily after a few drinks. His arm around you and the way he looked at you made everyone oooh and ahhh, giving them the same story you'd told minutes earlier, about how the two of you realized one day that all of those years you'd been hiding your love for each other, and when you realized that the other felt the same, you couldn't marry quickly enough. 

It was all bullshit of course, but they ate it up, and that was the important thing. You didn't want to think about how embarrassing it would be if an acquaintance or extended family member found out your parents had orchestrated everything. 

Several times people gushed about how lucky the two of you were to have found each other. The bitterness you felt was so intense you hoped dearly that they couldn’t see right through your smile. 

The relief you felt when the guests finally started to clear out, leaving the lavish ballroom for their hotel rooms, was monumental. Eventually the last of them were gone, and since both families insisted, you and Baekhyun retreated to your shared suite. 

Both you and him knew that your families were hoping for a grand baby soon, but that wasn't something you could even consider at the moment. 

“I don't mind sleeping on the couch.” He told you once you were alone with him. 

As nice as the room was, it didn't make sense for him to sleep on the couch. The bed was huge, and the couches weren't long enough for him to fully lay down. You shook your head. 

“Are you sure?” 

You smiled a little at his sweetness, “There's plenty of space for both of us, don't worry about it.” 

And so you and Baekhyun shared the bed on your first night together as husband and wife. You stayed on your side, and he stayed on his, not once touching, even a little. 

It was expected that eventually you and him would buy a house together and live there, but in the meantime, you stayed at that suite together. His parents owned it, and they hoped that living together would help spark something real, not to mention sharing a bed. 

Life after marriage wasn't that different, aside from your living space. You didn't have a job yet, having only graduated college a few months earlier, so you spent much of your time out with friends. As nice as the suite was, it reminded you of your loveless marriage, so you took every chance you could to get away. Baekhyun mostly just worked, keeping to himself, although he always asked you about your day when you’d get home. To his disappointment you kept your responses short. He wanted to try and get to know you better, but you didn't seem interested. 

The truth was, every time you saw him and he tried to talk to you, it made you feel worse. He did absolutely nothing wrong, but he, like the suite, was a painful reminder of your unfortunate fate. The result was you essentially avoiding him, even in your shared space. Baekhyun, however, wasn’t willing to live that way. 

A few weeks passed with hardly any words exchanged between you and him, so he decided to try something different. That evening when you returned to the suite, you were met with a generous dinner spread, the entire room meticulously decorated, and your husband sitting at the center of it all, looking at you bashfully in the candle light.

You were surprised, to say the least. 

He noticed the way you froze up, getting up from the table and taking one hand, guiding you to the table. He pulled out your chair for you, leading you to sit. 

Soon Baekhyun was seated across from you, looking back at you with a slightly unnerving intensity. 

“Why are you doing this?” You asked. 

He took a deep breath, “I want to try to make this work.” 

You raised an eyebrow. 

“I can tell how much you hate being married to me, and I’m sorry. I think we should at least try to make the best of it, though.” 

“Make the best of it?” 

“Well, yes. I mean it could be worse, right? Am I really that bad?” 

You sighed, annoyance taking hold at his nonchalant attitude. “No, Baekhyun, that's not the point, this whole situation just… sucks. Maybe it's stupid but I always thought I'd marry someone I was actually in love with, and it would be one of the best moments of my life. Instead I’m married to someone I barely even know.” 

“I'm sorry, and I know how you feel, I really do. But don't you think we should at least try to get along?” 

After a week of keeping your discontent to yourself, it came bubbling up and you no longer bothered to hide how you felt from him. You let it out, finally letting out what had been plaguing your mind since the wedding.

“Every time I see your face or even this suite for that matter, it makes me feel like shit. I really didn’t want this, and I don’t understand how you seem so unbothered. I mean, are you really not that upset about all this? Why did you agree to it so quickly?” 

“I didn’t have much of a choice either, you know how my parents are. A couple years ago when I still wasn't in a serious relationship of any kind they started floating the idea of setting me up with someone. Your name got mentioned a lot, so I've had more time to come to terms with it, I suppose.”

You scoffed, “So you've known for years that this would happen?” 

“Well, no. It was always just a suggestion, until a few months ago when they told me that they discussed it with your parents and actually wanted to go through with it.” 

Not sure what else to say, you shifted your focus to the plate of food before you, and he did the same. An awkward silence filled the dining room, though you still preferred the silence to his rationalizing of your miserable arrangement. Much to your dismay, however, it wasn’t long until he was again doing just that. 

“A lot of our parents' friends started out like this too, you know. To be fair most of them at least got to date for a while before getting married, but they’re happy now, so why shouldn’t we be able to do the same?”

He wasn’t wrong, this kind of thing wasn’t exactly rare, though you still hadn’t planned to turn out that way yourself. Still, you just stared back at him with a look of annoyance. 

“What I really wanted to talk to you about, the reason I made this dinner for us, I thought maybe, if you would be interested, we could go on a honeymoon. I know that wasn't originally part of the plan, but I think it could be good for us. Anywhere you want to go, I'll make it happen.”

His offer was extremely generous, but still didn’t exactly sound appealing. Being alone with him for days on end wasn’t your idea of fun, you worried that it would even become quite depressing, not to mention awkward. 

“I don't know….” 

“It can be as long or short as you like, and if you decide you hate being around me that much you can come back here anytime. You're my wife now, and I want to be able to make you happy, to make this whole thing work out for us. If there's anything I can do to help us get there, I’ll do it, whatever it takes.” 

When he put it like that, it was hard to argue with him. 

“Anywhere I want? And you’ll really fly me back if I don’t like it?” 

He nodded, “I promise.” 

Though you still had your doubts, you reluctantly agreed. A couple days later you were packing your bags, flying first class to Switzerland, where you'd stay for two weeks at one of his family's vacation homes in the mountains near Lucerne. 

Baekhyun grinned when you told him you wanted to go somewhere with mountains, “excellent choice.” 

The flight had been surprisingly nice. You’d expected that Baekhyun’s family would fly first class, but you were still surprised by just how nice the Swiss airline he’d booked was. You and him essentially had an entire bedroom, and while it was spacious for a plane, that was the closest you’d ever been to him in bed before. Maybe it was just hormones and general touch depravity, but you were all too aware of the way he occasionally brushed up against you as he slept.

When you finally arrived at the house you'd call home for the next couple weeks, walking into the main living area, you understood his excitement at your choice to stay in the mountains. It was nothing short of breathtaking. 

The house itself was beautiful, modern, and impeccably decorated, but you'd seen plenty of nice houses. It was the view that made it so special. The sprawling green valley surrounded by snow capped mountains looked like something out of a fairy tale. 

“My wife has awesome taste.” He said, not missing the way you grimaced, cringing at the word ‘wife’. 

“It still feels super weird hearing you say that.” 

You kept your eyes fixated on the view, and after a moment he was taking your hand and leading you into the master bedroom. Inside on a small table stood a bottle of champagne as well as two glasses, and beyond the sliding glass doors you could see the patio, fit with a hot tub and infinity pool. The king sized bed stood at the center of the room, covered in rose petals. 

You let out a short exhale of a laugh, mostly in disbelief at the sight in front of you. 

“Not bad right?” 

“Oh God, you really are trying to make me fall in love with you. Rose petals and everything…” 

He laughed, shaking his head. “I don't think two weeks is long enough to fall in love, but if you did, that would be great. I guess the staff went a little crazy with the romance since my parents told them this is our honeymoon.” 

He opened the bottle of champagne, pouring each of you a glass and handing one to you. God knows you needed it.

“Cheers.” You clinked the glasses together, each taking a sip. “By the way, I can sleep in one of the other bedrooms, if you'd prefer that. I know the rose petals on the bed are a little much.” 

Maybe it was the alcohol, but it looked like he was blushing ever so slightly as he said it.

Your immediate reaction was relief, that you'd get your own room, but then again that wasn't why you'd traveled all this way together. You were used to sleeping in the same bed with him by now anyway, so you shook your head, hoping you wouldn’t end up regretting it. 

A long sigh passed your lips.“You didn't take me here for us to sit in different rooms all day, we can do that back at home.” 

There was a faint smile on his lips and he nodded, cheeks still a little pink. You both knew what your families were hoping would happen in that bed, and you couldn't help but blush a little as well. For a second you wondered if you and him would ever get that far. He was perfectly fuckable, in theory, but the nature of your arrangement sucked all the excitement out of it for you. 

It was still early in the day, and once the champagne glasses were empty Baekhyun called a car to take the two of you into town. 

“You already seem less bummed out than you've been the last few weeks.” He commented as you headed into the city. 

“Yeah, don’t get me wrong, I’m still sad about everything, but you're right. It's better to at least try to make this work out. I'm trying to be optimistic.” 

He was smiling again, and you couldn't deny how gorgeous the sight of it was. He reached for one of your hands, giving it a light squeeze, holding it for the rest of the car ride, and then again as you walked through the streets together, window shopping.

The city of Lucerne really was like a fairy tale. The old buildings, the crystal blue lake, and the mountains in the distance were the perfectly romantic setting for your time with him. In front of that amazing backdrop, he truly looked like a prince. 

As sad and angry as you'd been the past month, now that your hand was in his, on this beautiful honeymoon, just enjoying the scenery, you couldn’t find the energy to harbor any resentment towards him. Although you still had a lot to learn about each other, you realized you could enjoy his company more than you expected. Either that, or it was just hard to be mad when you were in such a lovely place. 

You'd been walking together in comfortable silence for a while, just appreciating the city, when he told you, “If you see something you like, tell me and we can go inside for you to try it on.”  

As nice as it was, you knew you weren't actually going to go inside any of those shops. They were all high end designer outlets, the kinds of places you hadn't been to since your family was actually doing well. 

Baekhyun saw the way you shook your head, turning your eyes to the pavement in front of you. You felt him abruptly stop, your hand still in his. 

“What?” 

“Now that we're married, you don't need to worry about all of that anymore. Your family wasn't so insistent on you marrying me just so that they could finally pay off their debts, you know. They want a better life for you, too.” 

“Yeah well they have a funny way of showing it.” You mumbled, not even trying to hide the bitterness in your voice. 

“Did you tell them you didn’t want to get married?” 

You scoffed, because of course you didn’t, and he should know that. You gave him a bit of a bitchy side eye and he seemed to get your point. 

“They know I would’ve much rather chosen my husband myself. But I wasn’t really given a choice, just like you.”

He mustered up a surprisingly sympathetic look, sitting you down with him on a nearby bench. 

“I’m not saying this to call you ungrateful, really, but I think we should remember how lucky we are. Because of our parents we got the best educations, grew up in nice homes, get to travel the world, and so on. Money isn't something we'll ever have to worry about. When they asked me to marry you, I didn’t fight them, because I know how much they’ve done for me.” 

You understood perfectly where he was coming from. However, despite it all, you still couldn't deny your disappointment. 

“I know it would've been selfish to refuse, and of course I am grateful to be this fortunate. That doesn't make it feel any less shitty, though. I always had such big dreams for how I would meet the love of my life and get married, and they know that. When they told me I should marry you, they knew it would be heartbreaking for me, they just didn't seem to care. They didn't even want to acknowledge it.” 

“I'm sorry. I can imagine how hard that would be, I want you to know that I don't blame you at all for being upset. I just want to do whatever I can now to hopefully make this better for you.” 

When you didn’t respond his hand was pulling you back up with him, “Come on, there’s a really great ice cream place nearby.” 

He was relieved to finally see you smile again, even though you rolled your eyes at him. “I’m not a little kid, you can’t manipulate me with ice cream.” 

“I’m not manipulating you! I just want to cheer you up.” 

At least the ice cream really was fantastic. 

Eventually you returned to the house, deciding to finish the champagne in the pool together, enjoying the view. You'd seen Baekhyun shirtless in the past, but it had been years, and you couldn't deny how great he looked as he joined you in the water, holding both of your glasses of bubbly. 

The mountain air was chilly on your upper half, and you sunk deeper into the warm water as he handed you your champagne. Steam rose from the water into the cold air creating a wispy fog, the sun barely peeking out from behind the mountains as it set. 

You said cheers, clinking the glasses together, giving Baekhyun a funny look at how intently he insisted on making eye contact before bringing his glass up to meet yours. 

“You know why Germans are so insistent on eye contact when cheersing right?” He asked before taking his first sip. 

“No..?” 

His eyes widened ever so slightly, surprised, to say the least. 

“Oh… uhh, never mind.” 

“No, tell me!” 

This time, he was definitely blushing, “Ok but don't get mad at me! I was joking… I didn't think I'd have to explain it..” 

“So..?” 

He sighed, ready for you to scoff at his lame attempt at flirting with you. “In Germany, it's said that if you don't make eye contact while cheersing with someone, you'll have seven years of bad sex.” 

To his surprise, you actually let out a small laugh, again meeting his eyes and holding his gaze intently as you clinked your glass to his one more time. 

It had to be the atmosphere, both of you barely clothed in your swimsuits, the alcohol, the sunset, and the view of the mountains. That had to be it, that had to be why you were going along with everything he said so easily. Because at the end of the day, you both knew well what he was implying. He was your husband, and you his wife. Unless you both planned on cheating, which to your understanding still wasn’t acceptable despite the nature of the marriage, he would be the only one you'd be having sex with anytime soon. 

You kept slowly sipping on your drink, enjoying the calmness and beauty of the landscape. This time, the silence between him and yourself actually felt comfortable. 

“Do you really think that it's possible for us to eventually be happy, like any other married couple? You know as if we'd actually chosen this for ourselves?” You eventually asked. 

“Yeah, I definitely think it's possible.” 

“You really mean that?” 

He shrugged, and nodded. “I don't want this to sound too forward, but that's part of why I wasn't too upset about the marriage. I would've liked to marry someone I chose myself, just like you, but in our situation I think we still have a good chance at making it work. Even though we've never been particularly close, I feel like I know you fairly well, because of our families. I know that we had similar upbringings, share the same basic values, things like that, and those things really matter in a partnership. You're beautiful too, which definitely helps.”

“Thank you… I've never really thought about it like that.”

‘You’re beautiful.’ Those words had a greater effect on you than you expected.

His eyes had been fixed on the sun setting over the mountains, but slowly he turned back towards you. “Do you find me attractive, at least physically?” 

His sudden question left you dumbfounded. The answer was so obvious but the way he asked you truly didn't sound cocky at all. You had to stop yourself from making a dumb joke considering his abs were currently glistening in the light of the setting sun and his face looked like something out of a magazine. 

“Baekhyun, you know you're a good looking guy.” 

“Well, some women are more into big muscles, or really tall guys, or a more rugged “manly” look. I could still not be your type.” 

You shook your head, feeling the way your cheeks burned, knowing they were probably bright red. You kept your eyes glued on the valley below, avoiding the way you knew he was looking at you. “You definitely are my type, at least when it comes to looks.” 

You expected him to say something cocky and smug but instead he just smiled at you when you finally met his gaze again, seeming genuinely happy and relieved by your answer. 

“I appreciate that.”

It occurred to you then that despite the champagne, his words and eyes on you made you quite shy. He was simply an extremely handsome guy, and you found yourself having to fight the urge to downright ogle him. 

His broad shoulders and strong chest looked so inviting, the water on his skin adding a gorgeous sheen to his entire form. You wanted to touch him, to feel his skin against your own, and know how his slender hands would feel on your body. 

The view of the mountains was nice, but as the minutes flew by, your eyes kept traveling back to him. It didn't go unnoticed, as he felt himself slipping into similar thoughts as well. 

Maybe you really were just that easy to read, but it surprised you nonetheless when he stepped closer, taking your hand in his, before placing it on his chest. 

“Wh-what are you doing?”

Your eyes were stuck to his torso, heart beating rapidly at the knowledge of his eyes gazing down at you, his heartbeat under your hand a comforting reminder of the shared tension. His gentle touch on your chin triggered a small gasp, and he finally guided your face up towards his own where he could look at you, and you at him.

Being so close now, you noticed the scattered moles painting little constellations across his face. Each one appeared to have been placed with purpose, further adding to the near perfect harmony of his stunning features. 

When his eyes shifted downwards ever so slightly, gaze falling to your lips, you stopped breathing. You could smell him, so sweet and inviting, every minute aspect of his presence pulling you in. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

His eyes bore into your own again, and you could feel the magnetism between you both. All you gave him was a small nod, but that was enough, his lips meeting yours. 

This was so different, so much better than when you'd kissed before at your wedding. His chest under your palm felt warm and firm, the taste and smell of him surrounding you, easily letting you melt into him. His lips were soft, and the lack of clothing, the feel of his wet skin against your own, made you shiver despite the hot pool. 

Growing increasingly overwhelmed, you pulled away, red faced and genuinely a little embarrassed to have given into him so quickly. You quickly grabbed your glass and downed the rest of your champagne.

Baekhyun, however, saw right through you. He gave you a knowing smirk, he knew you were still skeptical of him and the marriage, but that didn't mean you weren't attracted to each other. Being half naked in a pool with a view definitely helped set the mood, too. 

“What? There's no reason to get shy now.” 

Still, you turned away from him, bracing both hands on the edge of the pool as you fixed your eyes back onto the mountains and valley below. 

“Hm? What's wrong?” 

His breath on the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine, surprised by the proximity. Gently, he brushed your hair aside, giving himself access to whisper in your ear. 

“As odd as it might feel to be married, as husband and wife, there's no use in denying that we're attracted to each other.” 

He didn't miss the way you whimpered when his lips gently grazed the sensitive skin just below your ear, turning your head to grant him more access. 

He took that as his sign to continue, leaving a trail of kisses along the side of your neck, his lips growing bolder as the minutes passed. Soon he was sucking and biting at the spot on your neck that made your knees weak, and his hands slowly came to rest on your hips, leaving you every chance to stop him, but you did no such thing. 

Maybe it was just how pent up you were after not having sex for so long, and barely even having an opportunity to touch yourself, but you found yourself squeezing your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the ache that was starting to form between them. 

When one of his hands left your hip, instead coming to your jaw, turning your head to grant him access to kiss you again, you easily let him. The kiss was nothing sweet, desperate and hungry as you both fought for dominance, though Baekhyun quickly took the upper hand, not that you minded. 

“Can I touch you?” He asked the second your lips parted. 

“You are touching me.” 

“That's not what I mean.” 

His hand moved slowly down the front of your body, the soft touch making your head spin, until his delicate fingers began to play with the waistband of your bikini. 

He resumed the movement of his lips on your neck, soon coming to whisper in your ear, “May I?” 

You nodded, breath shaking, and let out a soft moan when his fingers finally pushed beneath the wet fabric. His first touch against your clit sent a jolt through you, and you didn't miss his soft chuckle before pressing his lips against you for the nth time. 

The way he nibbled and sucked at the skin of your neck combined with the soft circles his fingers made on your clit, were nothing short or euphoric. You leaned back into his chest, quiet moans and whimpers filling the air. Being touched like this from behind had always been a big turn on for you. He already made you feel so weak under his touch. 

Baekhyun was obsessed with all of the delicate sounds escaping your lips, sounds that proved how much you were enjoying what he did to you. The more he listened, the more he felt himself grow needy for more.

A breath got stuck in your throat when he pushed his hips forward, letting you feel his hardness against your ass. Even through his swim trunks, you could tell he was big. 

With his cock pressed to your ass and his fingers moving perfectly between your thighs, you were already losing any rationality you’d once possessed. When his other hand untied the knot of your top and began to tease your nipples, you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about how exposed you were, outside in the open. You knew you would be pushed over the edge sooner rather than later if he kept it up, and he did. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” He whispered in your ear, the smirk on his lips apparent in his voice. 

You nodded frantically, warmth bubbling up inside you, turning into a searing heat. 

“Good girl, let go, I got you.” 

His fingertips slipped across your clit just right, one hand pinching and twisting the sensitive nub on your chest. Your whimpers grew into delighted moans, the craving for even more growing almost unbearable. The promise of eventually having his length inside you was what pushed you over the edge, shaking and twitching in Baekhyun's arms as you fell. 

“Fuck.” He whispered into the crook of your neck. “You're really sexy, you know that? Can't wait to be inside you.” 

The combination of his words and breath against your heated skin prolonged your pleasure, nodding to show him just how badly you wanted him, too. 

As soon as his hand withdrew from between your legs you turned towards him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss. It was messy, desperate, communicating the urgent need you both felt for more. His tongue greedily licked into your mouth before biting your lip, coaxing another weak moan from you. His hand on your thigh quickly had you wrapping both around him, and the feel of his substantial length and girth against your center, even through your bathing suits, left you panting, desperate for more. 

He put some pressure on you, pushing you against the edge of the pool, letting you feel even more of him. 

“Do you wanna go inside?” He whispered into your ear between kisses, but you didn't have the patience for that. 

You shook your head, “just fuck me right here.” 

His cocky smirk somehow had even more moisture flowing out of you, “as you wish.” 

With that, he undid the string of your bikini, and pushed down his shorts. 

You reached for him, intimidated by the size, hoping you would even be able to handle him. He was hot and hard in your hand, and you felt the telltale throb of his own arousal. 

Anticipation hung thick in the air as he positioned himself, his tip nudging against your clit, and you swore you were about to lose your goddamn mind. 

“You ready?” He questioned with an unexpected softness, forehead resting against your own. 

“Yes.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes, Baekhyun, please.”

As soon as he pushed forward, however, you understood his desire to double check. His size presented quite the challenge, your eyes squeezing shut at the discomfort of being stretched so much. He could sense how you struggled to take him, hands digging into the skin of his back, legs squeezing involuntarily around his hips.

“Fuck you're so big.” 

“Just relax, I'll go slow. Tell me if it’s too much.” He said before pressing another kiss to your lips. 

You couldn't remember ever feeling so full, and he was still only halfway in. Slow, shallow thrusts carefully let you get used to him, going deeper with every roll of his hips. Soon tears pricked at your eyes, the new sensation of being fucked by such a huge cock leaving you awstruck. 

When he finally fit himself all the way inside of you, his hips meeting your own, you felt his head pressing firmly against your cervix. The slight pain of it heightened the already intense moment even further. 

“Oh my God.” 

He pulled almost all the way out, sinking himself all the way back inside, and you swore he had to have the best cock you’d ever fucked, by a mile. Any unpleasant thoughts surrounding your marriage to him were long gone as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust pulling gasps of pleasure from you. 

The water splashed wildly around you but you might as well have forgotten it was even there, too overcome with Baekhyun’s length as it pleased you in ways you never knew possible. The way he filled you so completely was unlike anything you’d experienced with another man, blissed out by his incredible size and precise thrusts. 

“You’re so perfect, take me so fucking well.” 

His lips crashed into yours, hot and greedy as you moaned into one another. You were certain you’d never felt anyone that deep inside you before, and it was addictive. 

“Think you can handle more?” He muttered, now that you’d gotten fully acclimated to his substantial length and girth. 

You nodded, greedy for anything and everything he could give, and Baekhyun wasn’t going to deny you. 

His lips swallowed more moans and cries of delight as he picked up the pace, thrusting harder, faster, feeling you clench down on him as you got closer to your release. 

Every time he sunk into you completely, he felt your body tremble in response to the intense sensations. As much as you wanted to keep your eyes open to look at him, you simply couldn't. The force with which he pounded you and how deep he reached left you an incoherent mess. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, desperate whimpers and whines leaving your parted lips. 

“Will my beautiful wife let me feel her cum on my cock? Hm?” 

Frantically, you nodded. With only a few more pumps into your dripping core he made you cum, so hard that you just about forgot your own name. 

Baekhyun let out a deep groan at how tightly you squeezed him when you came, the pulsating of your orgasming pussy bringing him to his peak soon after. His hips fell out of pace, eventually slowing to a stop as he emptied his cum deep inside.

It wasn't until you slowly started drifting back to reality that you realized you were still outside in the pool with him. 

You continued to cling to him, feeling him gradually soften and slip out of you. When his eyes found your own you both stared, panting, basking in the afterglow. 

You finally stood back on your own two feet, leaned back against the edge of the pool, and couldn’t fight the fit of laughter that came over you. 

Baekhyun stared at you, confused, unnerved, and slightly bewildered at your sudden outburst. 

“Jesus fucking Christ Byun! That might be the best sex I’ve ever had. No, it definitely was. I can’t believe you...” 

A relieved sigh escaped him, grinning at your admission. “Go on. I’d love to hear all your thoughts.” 

“Oh shut up you don’t need any more ego stroking with a dick like that.” 

He leaned in closer, bracing both hands on the edge of the pool at your sides. “Well you’ll be happy to know that this dick is all yours, till death do us part.” 

A genuine smile graced your lips, and this time as you looked at him, your new husband, you actually felt a little excited for what your future with him could hold. 

You leaned in, giving him a quick kiss. “It's only day one and you already succeeded at seducing me. I have to admit I feel a little pathetic.” 

“I didn’t seduce you.” 

“Oh yes you did! You got me half naked and drunk and started kissing my neck. That has to count.” 

“You only had one glass of champagne and we're in a pool, what else would we wear?!” 

You rolled your eyes. “Okay fine, but you still seduced me. Not that I mind, that was fucking incredible. I hope no one saw us, though.” 

Baekhyun just shrugged. “I doubt it, but if they did, we put on a pretty good show.” he smirked. 

“You’re unbelievable.” You laughed, enjoying the way he admired you. 

“I asked if you wanted to go inside, but someone was too impatient.” 

“You’re awful cocky, you know that?” 

Again, he shrugged, moving away from you to find his glass of champagne. He finished it, and since it was getting late, you both finally decided to get to bed. This time, the rose petals just made you giggle. Once you'd both settled in, you even found yourself inching closer to him, until one of his arms pulled you closer, wrapping around you. It was easy to fall asleep like that, in his embrace. 

~

The first night in a new bed was usually pretty rough, and the jet lag didn’t help. When you awoke in the early morning, you knew you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. 

Baekhyun had detached himself from you at some point during the night, the blanket bunching up around his waist. He seemed to still be resting peacefully, and you shamelessly enjoyed the view of his bare chest and sleeping face. Everything about him was just so gorgeous, it didn’t really make sense to you how you’d ended up with him like this. You’d been so pissed about the marriage for so long, but now a small smile crept to your lips as you watched him, his chest slowly rising and falling with every breath. 

You turned to fully face him, shifting around for a bit before settling into a comfortable position. From that point of view you could enjoy the profile of his face as he slept, taken with the seemingly perfect outlines of his jaw, nose, and lips. 

Minutes passed, dragging on painfully slow, and the sight in front of you definitely didn't help you get back to sleep. Images from your time in the pool with him kept resurfacing, along with the memory of how incredible he'd made you feel. You couldn’t understand how you hadn’t always wanted to touch him, even when he was more of a stranger to you. He was way too attractive to just ignore, you thought. Every cell in your body seemed to gravitate towards him, now that touching him was allowed, and even welcomed, holding yourself back was nearly torturous. 

You and him could nap during the day. Right now, you needed him to wake up. 

Carefully, you moved closer, molding your body to his, leaning in to press your lips to his neck. He stirred a bit, but didn’t wake up, so you went on to plant more kisses, moving down towards his chest. When you gently sucked on his collarbone, his eyes finally fluttered open. 

Much to your delight, he didn’t question your actions, or why you’d woken him up. He just took hold of your waist, pulling you on top of him, and into a kiss. You ended up straddling him, lips still locked as they moved together lazily. 

“Goodmorning,” He hummed, looking around at the dark bedroom. “Awake already? What time is it?” 

“Four? Five? I don't know.” 

“Why'd you wake me up?” He half groaned, half whined, voice rough due to the early hour. 

Instead of replying, you just kissed him again, kissing down to his jaw, then neck, moving your hips a little to make your intentions clear. 

“Ready for round two? Already?” 

“Shut up.” 

He chuckled, “Why don't you make me?”

You moved to bring your lips to his once more, but he stopped you, one finger pressing to your lips before they could make contact. You pouted.

“I have an even better idea.”

“Oh yeah?” 

A mischievous grin lifted his cheeks so prettily. 

“Sit on my face.” 

You froze, “Huh?” 

“You heard me. C’mere” 

He hoisted you up, eliciting a small shriek from you, but you didn’t let him take you all the way up the bed, instead settling atop in chest. 

“Are you serious?”

“Hmm I’m a hungry boy. Now come here.” 

His hands on your ass attempted to push you further up towards his face, but you stayed put. 

“I still have underwear on, dummy.” 

He looked down, narrowing his eyes when he spotted the lace that was, in fact, covering you. 

“Do you like this pair?” 

“Kinda? They’re a little old I guess, why do you-” 

Before you could finish his hands were taking hold of the flimsy fabric, easily ripping it and tossing it to the side. 

“Baekhyun! Are you out of your mind? Why-” 

He cut you off again, hoisting you up by your ass till your thighs were on either side of his head. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll buy you new ones.” 

With that his arms circled your thighs, pulling you down, until your center met his hot tongue. 

You inhaled sharply, bracing your hands against the wall as he licked and prodded at your clit. It was soft, teasing, wanting to warm you up before showing you what he was really capable of. When you would start to whine and plead for more, he would pull away entirely, instead leaving kisses on your inner thighs, letting the anticipation grow until it was nearly unbearable. 

Until then you'd still been hovering, not wanting to smother him, but when you once again began to whimper and ask for more, he told you, “I’ll give you what you want if you just sit.” 

“But-” 

Without giving you a chance to protest his strong arms, still wrapped around your thighs, yanked you down roughly. At last you got the kind of pressure you needed, putting some weight on him, no longer caring if he could breathe or not. His hums of pleasure made it clear that either way, he was enjoying this as much as you were. 

He lapped at your clit with greed, happily drinking you in. Every gasp, sigh, and groan he drew from you egged him on, eagerly awaiting your release, wanting nothing more than the taste of your delight flooding his tongue. When he transitioned from mere licking to sucking your bud past his lips, he felt your thighs shake, gripping them so tightly you almost wondered if it could bruise. In your ecstasy, however, there was no place for such thoughts. You were too preoccupied with your building orgasm. 

His fingers earlier in the pool had been fantastic, but his tongue and lips were on a whole new level entirely. The way the warm muscle flicked at your most sensitive spot was absolutely perfect, and when combined with the suction of his lips, you almost couldn’t handle it. He could tell you were getting close when you began to rock your hips against his tongue, silently begging for even more, and he was eager to deliver. 

He picked up the pace, suckling harder, licking faster, and he reveled in the increased volume of your moans as you got lost in it. When the moans were silenced, replaced instead with sharp gasps, he knew you were on the precipice. He didn’t falter, if anything, he gave you even more. 

Seconds later you fell apart, twitching and shaking while he still didn’t stop, the sensation flooding your body with relief and joy until it slowly became too much. Baekhyun still had a firm hold of your thighs, and he moaned with delight at the taste of your orgasm on his tongue. He kept lapping at your tired pussy, not wanting to let a single drop go to waste, until you basically begged him for a break. 

When his hold on your thighs finally weakened, you sat back, your ass landing on his chest eliciting a grunt from him. You looked down at your husband's face and he was beaming, lips and chin still wet with your arousal. You grinned right back, watching as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. 

Again, all you could do was laugh, and this time he happily joined you. 

“You know, I really hadn't expected all of this to happen on our first night here.” You told him. 

“Neither did I.”

He was still smiling up at you, now just watching, admiring you, and when he still didn't look away after several seconds had passed you started to feel shy. 

You rolled off of him, one arm covering your eyes as you basked in the unexpected comfort of the moment. Eventually you felt him move your arm away and his face was hovering above your own, slowly moving closer until he was kissing you. It was slow, relaxed, just enjoying the closeness as you gradually recovered from the heated moment. 

You felt him shift, realizing that he was adjusting himself beneath his silk pajama pants, and your hand followed. His eyes fluttered shut when you palmed him, and he took the hint, discarding the shirt you still wore before stripping himself. 

Wet lips met the sensitive skin of your neck as he positioned himself between your thighs, the heat and weight of him above you somehow making your heart race even more. His fingers entered you first, stretching you out to get you ready to take him. He started with two, soon adding a third as he leaned up slightly, watching your flushed form squirm and whimper beneath him. It was a sight that didn’t help his patience one bit, throbbing as he thought about getting to be inside you again so soon. 

It wasn’t long until Baekhyun assumed you were ready, that or he just didn’t want to wait any longer. Both of his hands found yours, lacing them together and pressing them to the bed above your head. His eyes were on yours, dark with lust as you felt him push inside, the stretch again making you wince, though you easily powered through, too enticed by what was to come to even consider stopping him. He rocked into you, getting deeper with each push, until he was burying himself into you entirely with each roll of his hips. 

This time, he was slower, savoring the way your tight walls hugged him, in contrast to the frenzied passion of the evening prior. You sighed gratefully each time he hit that spot inside you, appreciating the unhurried pace he set as he continued to thrust. Your previous orgasm left you especially sensitive, and you seemed to be floating on a cloud of pure bliss while he steadily fucked you, the euphoria of it reaching even greater hights than before. 

His size was one thing, but Baekhyun was also just good. He knew how to angle himself to make you feel just right, keeping a steady pace to allow the pleasure to build. 

“You feel amazing, so tight and wet for me.” He whispered into your ear, and your knuckles paled with how hard you gripped his hands. 

Normally faster, rougher sex was what you preferred, but now, with him, you couldn’t help but think that this slower, more relaxed approach was even better. Maybe it was because it was so early, and you were still a little tired, but this felt nothing short of perfect. Baekhyun was taking care of you so well, listening to your body, and giving exactly what you needed. 

Your orgasm was getting close again, warmth growing into a burning heat in the pit of your stomach, but as soon as you started to clench around him, about to let go, he pulled out. 

He chuckled softly at the way you whined in protest, but assured you, “Just trust me, this will be even better.” 

He stood on his knees and straddled one of your thighs, bringing the other leg over his shoulder before pushing back in. With the same leisurely pace from earlier he continued on, the new angle making you feel him even deeper. 

When you started to whimper and ask for him to go faster, he just shushed you, pushing his hips into you slower, but harder, leaving you with little room to protest. Either way, it was divine, and you knew he’d easily get you there in the end. After a while you decide that whatever he had in mind, you would happily accept it. He made you feel so damn good, you trusted him to take you however he saw fit. 

His thrusts were steady, letting you chase your orgasm, but when you started to get close he pulled out again, leaving you shaking and whining and clenching around nothing. 

One hand came to rest on your cheek and his forehead met your own, prompting you to open your eyes and meet his. He stared for a second before pressing a quick kiss to your lips and whispering, “Turn around for me baby.” 

You obliged, rolling onto your stomach, and you felt him straddle you, leaning down to leave a trail of kisses along your shoulder. Without any warning he filled you once again, and this time when he bottomed out, the increased pressure against your cervix made your stomach tighten, the pain almost too much for you. 

His moans and grunts made it clear that he, too, felt the added pressure, making sure not to press too hard, to be gentle as he continued working his way in and out, his eyes fixed to the view of your ass and his length plunging in and out of you. Every time he sank himself inside completely he felt the way his tip would reach the bottom, savoring the feeling while doing his best to not hurt you in any real way. 

Little did he know, you enjoyed the intensity of it, and your high was approaching even quicker than before. He’d been edging you for so long, all you cared about was getting your release. He could’ve fucked you as fast and hard as he wanted and the pain still wouldn’t have stopped you from cumming all over his length. 

But Baekhyun was cautious nonetheless, filling you in the same relaxed manner, wanting you to feel as good as possible, to prolong your pleasure, without bringing it to an end just yet. He, too, was enjoying himself far too much to rush this. 

However he soon felt the same tell-tale throb that your orgasm was quickly approaching, so he pulled out once again. 

Once he’d turned you over, settling back between your thighs, he took in your fucked out expression, eyes softening at just how desperate you looked. 

“Does my baby want to cum?” 

You nodded, frantic. “Please, Baekhyun.” 

He placed a tender kiss to your lips, then your forehead, before pushing forwards to fill you up. This time as he kept moving you could feel the difference, and you knew he was getting close to his own release. His thrusts were less consistent, and he became shaky, gasping and moaning more freely than before. 

For you it came as a relief, knowing that it wouldn’t be long until you finally got your long awaited high. You weren’t sure how much more you could take, more than ready for him to finally just fuck you through your orgasm, and let you feel his release, too. 

The push and stretch of his length inside you, the angle of it, and his entirety surrounding you, the heat and weight and smell of him, they all became too much. When he finally let you reach your peak it was strong, blinding you and making your skin tingle with the intensity. Every time he’d denied you he’d built the tension to such a degree that when it was finally released, it was otherworldly. Broken versions of his name passed your lips, though you weren’t conscious of it, the wave of pleasure leaving no room for coherent thought, only gratitude for the incredible feeling after having been deprived. 

He didn’t stop when he felt the obvious pulsating and twitching of your orgasm, he continued to chase his own high, which came soon after. He’d been holding himself back, so when it finally hit him, the burst of euphoria was explosive. As he shuddered apart his lips crashed into yours, hungry and rough as they sought greater contact, something to communicate how much it affected him. 

The kisses became more relaxed as you both slowly drifted back to reality, until he finally collapsed on top of you, burying himself in the crook of your neck. Gently kisses were peppered across your skin, each one paired with some sweet words, “So beautiful, so perfect, so good for me.” 

After some time his weight above you lost its charm, turning sweaty and uncomfortable prompting him to roll off you, though you still desired some contact. Your head rested atop his chest, and the feeling of his hand on your waist was a welcome comfort. 

Something about this just felt right to you. Your marriage to him, now, came as more of a relief than anything else. You knew that after having him, nobody else would ever be able to compare. As sure as you’d been that the jet lag would keep you up until daylight, his embrace ended up luring you into a peaceful sleep in mere minutes. 

As it turned out, your honeymoon ended up being a beautiful experience full of gorgeous scenery, plentiful laughter, and amazing sex. Most days were spent strolling through town, enjoying the spa and pool at the house, and in bed with your new husband. 

He was fun, maybe a little cocky, but you couldn't blame him for that, everything considered. At the end of the day, he was always sweet to you, and never acted truly arrogant in any way. Confident, that was how you would describe him, and that confidence came as a comfort for you. He was confident in himself, yes, but he also showed a lot of confidence and optimism towards his relationship with you. 

The initial awkwardness disappeared completely after your encounter in the pool. The sex had been great, but more importantly, it brought your guard down. You quickly became far more comfortable around him, and as the days passed, he started to feel like a genuine friend. A friend, who also gave you the best sex of your life. 

While it may have still been early in the relationship, by the time you were flying back home with him, you felt confident, too. 

You'd make it work with Baekhyun, your new husband. 

[aphroditesmoon]

Hiiii! Love your clarisse oneshots ^^. Could you possibly do one where Fem!reader is the daughter of Hades and has a hellhound as a pet that absolutely adores clarisse? Reader also has a similar personality to clarisse, loves to fight and has a big pride but only lets her guard down around Clarisse.(also possibly has her own electric weapon of your choice)Thank you!!

creatures of the night

clarisse la rue x fem!hades'cabin!reader

warnings: none

a/n: sorry this is so short, hope u like it<3

wc; 1.1k

You would never consider your relationship with your father as better than anyone else's relationship with their own parent in camp.

But when you had been claimed by Hades as well as being gifted a long black javelin with gold wrapped around the sharp edge on the same night you arrived at camp Half Blood, it seemed well established to everyone else and including yourself, that your father acknowledges your existence proudly.

Being one of the people in the small list of forbidden children, had created a fearsome reputation around your presence, and honestly speaking, you enjoy the privileges that come with it.

Although it was hard making friends considering your less friendly personality, some campers stuck by your side anyways. Those who bore you enormous respects and had been intrigued by your mysterious air instead of intimidated.

One of them being the infamous child of Ares, Clarisse La Rue.

Beautiful, strong and hot headed, Clarisse La Rue.

The two of you are often compared as the two sides of the same coin. Your personalities differ from eachother in many ways, but when it came to your goals and aims, you both are usually on the same team.

It's safe to say that you are less hostile than Clarisse. You prefer to keep to yourself whilst she prefered to assert dominance onto the other campers. And yet you are the more feared than her.

Clarisse is commonly brutal and unrelenting, but you usually saved up the worst of your tricks for when necessity calls for it. For now, intimidation worked well enough.

What's funny enough, is how Clarisse herself had a certain trepidation when she first befriended you. She learned soon that you were just another demigod girl just like she was, glory aside.

One of the instances where she felt that she had truly seen you as you are, all the facade dropped down, was when you first introduced her to your hound, Cerberus.

Your father had gifted him to you for your 15th birthday. It was one of yoir proudest moments in life. Demigods are almost never cared for that much by their parents, and so to have your coming of age be recognised by your father was a huge thing.

"Is that not the same name as Hades' own three headed hound?" She asked, staring at it for afar from the corner of your bed.

"I know, that's why I named him that." You explained to her as you're sat criss-crossed on the floor, scratching the beasts' chin.

Cerberus, once he deemed Clarisse as not a threat, rolled down on the ground on his stomach.

"Look at him, such a good boy." You were distracted by your new pet all day, ignoring your poor girlfriend who had come over to your cabin to spend time with you. "He's almost as tall as you." Clarisse spoke sarcastically, picking you on your height.

"That's not a fair observation. Most things are almost as tall as me." You responded, still not looking up.

"Are you just gonna keep standing there staring at me?" You asked her finally, realising just how weird the distance between you two were.

Clarisse was hesitant, frowning at your pet like he was some sort of threat. "I...think I'm good here." She muttered loud enough for your ears. "Oh, come on."

Clarisse shook her head as you complained about her irrationality. "Look at him, he's friendly." And he was, Cerberus had warmed up to you quickly and have not shown a single tendency for violence against your girlfriend.

"Come and say hello to him, Clarisse." You called out to her again.

You hear her sigh from the other side of the room. After a few more minutes pass, her footsteps grow louder as she moves nearer to you.

Clarisse squats down to meet Cerberus and flinched as he lifts his head up to sniff her. You reached for her hand, trying to get him to smell it. She pulls her hand back at first, but after a few more pulls, Clarisse relents and lets the hound give her knuckles a lick. "That tickles." She mumbled under her breath.

"He likes you, see." She gives a resigned look, like she's just going along with what you're saying. "No, I'm serious, look at how nice he's acting." You nudged your head towards Cerberus' head, encouraging her to give him a pet

Clarisse braves herself to give him a few strokes on his ears and found that he particularly likes that notion. "I guess he's not that bad." She admitted at last, pulling out a smile from you. "I told you."

"So what is he then? Some sort of guard dog?" She inquires. The gods would gift their children with tools that can be used, never something useless, like a domesticated pet. And from the looks of it, Cerberus is definitely not meant to be a some cute little friend.

"I don't know." You answered honestly.

"It's not like my dad does a lot of talking to me, but he gave me something from the underworld, something that's set as a reminder of him and his place above. I'd like to view it as some sort of stepping stone. Like I'm one step closer to him because of Cerberus."

It's not surprising that your end goal is to follow on your father's footsteps, no one really knows what the real secret to make their godly parent to care about them is.

It is often assumed that glory was the key, and yet, the best fighters in camp a

re usually the ones who resent their parents the most. You often prayed and hoped that you wouldn't ever have to cross that threshold.

"I'm sure he sees it that way too." Clarisse offered kindly. She knew all too well how much it meant to be noticed by their absent fathers, even if so slightly.

She slso knew deep down that even if your father refused to notice the lengths you would be willing to go for him, she did. And she would break the world in two for you if your father wouldn't. And you would do the same for her.

Clarisse leans her back against the lower frame of the bed, a small smile on her face as she watches you scratch the hound's chin whilst kissing the spot in between his eyes.

It is truly rare to catch sight of either daughters of Ares or Hades' being as gentle and playful as this, and Clarisse is grateful that these kind of intimacies are reserved for small private moments.

That same night, as she sleeps with her arms around your waist, Cerberus laying down by the foot of the bed, Clarisse realises that she would do anything for the bond between the two of you to prevail.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Can I ask for a similar scenarios for Unrequited (Alastor x reader). It could be a part 2 technically ♥️♥️

Reader defending Husk from Alastor when he threatens him in ep 5?? Breaking their already destroyed friendship even more. I NEED ANGST IN MY LIFE

A/N uh,, of course??? i love this idea??? I... I'm obsessed. I'm literally so excited to write this. I hope you like whatever I come up with. If you requested something I will get it out in the next couple days!! I'm trying to be quick.

Unrequited Pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Angst and an unhealthy as fuck relationship. Pining. Non-mutual pining.

Word Count: 2,681 (The way this is like twice as long as part one. I got excited. Sorry guys.)

Part One: Unrequited (Alastor x Reader)

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

"So, once we have the proof that redemption is possible," Charlie was explaining to her father as they walked through the halls of the hotel, Vaggie and Alastor trailing behind the pair, "this whole hotel will be full of demons wanting to check out into Heaven. We just need a little more time to prove it. The sharing circles haven't been working as fast as I hoped-"

"Hey, Boss. Can we have a word?" Husk cut in.

Alastor stopped in his tracks, an eyebrow raised. Placing an arm behind his back, he turned to face the cat demon in irritation.

"What is it?" Alastor asked, his narrowed eyes the only thing about his face which displayed his true emotions.

Alastor's gaze softened slightly as he realized Y/n was standing beside Husk. She grabbed her left arm with her right, rubbing it in obvious discomfort as she looked away from Alastor and Husk, examining the walls with determination.

"Listen, we all know Mimzy only shows up when she needs somethin'." Husk sighed after a moment, realizing he wasn't going to be getting anything but moral support from his anxious and angry companion, "That bitch is trouble, and who knows what kinda demon she fucked with to come running to you this time?"

Alastor took a step forward, watching the two demon's carefully. Irritation ticked at the back of his head like a countdown for a bomb. He had to be careful. There was already so much wrong between Y/n and himself, he had no desire to make any of it worse. Alastor, as much as he hated it, knew she was close with Husk, cared for him even. He tried his best to remain calm.

"It's nothing I can't handle. Don't worry, Husker." Alastor turned away, moving to head back down the hallway after the rest of the tour, "Who in their right mind would cross me?"

Y/n looked over at her companion, feeling a shift in the air beside her. He had is fists clenched, his brow furrowed. Gently, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

Husk turned, meeting Y/n's eyes. She gave him a pointed look, one that reminded him who he was talking to. One that asked him to be careful. Husk took a deep breath and unclenched his muscles. Y/n's hand fell back to her side.

"I mean..." Husk tried to chose his words carefully. He was honestly worried about the whole Mimzy situation and wasn't going to give it up, "you've been gone a while and it's not like anyone knows why."

Alastor stilled, turning his head slightly to the side. He watched Husk carefully over his shoulder as he replied.

"They don't need to know." Alastor turned to face Husk fully now, leaning towards him with a finger in the air, "And don't you worry your fuzzy head about it."

Husk growled, pushing Alastor's hand from his head as the Radio Demon tried to scratch his ears.

"You may own my soul, but I ain't your fucking pet!" he snapped, poking Alastor harshly in the chest.

"But you are!" Alastor laughed, straightening himself.

Husk was trembling with anger now, unable to hold himself back. Alastor turned again, once more making to rejoin the group he had left and Husk watched him through narrowed eyes.

Y/n nudged Husk's foot lightly with the tip of her boot in an effort to remind him to keep his cool, but Husk brushed it off entirely. He stepped forward, out of her reach.

"Big talk for someone who's also on a leash."

Y/n sighed. Alastor stopped walking. The lights flickered out in the hall for a moment.

"Aha, what did you say?"

Alastor barley turned to look at them as he spoke. It was enough that Y/n caught the dials in his eyes, a sign he was truly and genuinely angry.

"Oh fuck." she mumbled under her breath as Husk began to back away.

"Nothing." he insisted, "I, um-"

Husk excuses were cut short as the all too familiar green chain and collar formed in the air around him. Alastor, his back still to Husk, tugged the chain. The cat demon fell to the floor, his eyes wide and wild with fear.

"If you ever say that again," Alastor threatened, his back still to Husk as he began to wrap his end of the chain around his microphone, pulling it taught, "I will tear your soul apart and broadcast your screams..."

There was a resistance in the chain. Alastor stopped speaking and turned around, his rage growing by the second. He opened his mouth to yell, he felt his demon form aching to come out. Everything stopped when he realized what was actually happening.

Alastor had assumed Husk had found something to hold on to, that he was fighting back. Alastor had been wrong. Instead, in the space between the two demons stood Y/n. She had her hands wrapped tightly around the green chain and was using all her weight to pull it back towards Husk. Alastor's mouth fell slightly open, his brow furrowed. He hadn't known someone not involved in a deal could touch the chains.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Y/n yelled, yanking the chain harshly towards her.

The movement caught Alastor off guard. He stumbled forward a few steps before catching his balance.

"Nothing is wrong with me, dearest." he cordially replied, quickly regaining his composure, "I'm simply reminding our favorite Husker where his place is in the world."

As Alastor spoke, he switched his menacing gaze back to Husk who was trembling on the floor behind Y/n.

"You're a dick!" Y/n exclaimed, trying to pull Alastor towards her again with the chain.

This time, he was ready for it and stood his ground as Y/n continued to speak.

"He was genuinely worried about you, you know? I didn't want to ask about this Mimzy shit, I wanted to watch you fucking fail for once but Husk? He was worried. He cared about you, and what do you do?"

Y/n exhaled sharply, shaking her head. Alastor watched in awe. This was the biggest reaction he'd gotten out of the girl in years. He had no idea how to react. It was oddly heartbreaking, oddly exhilarating.

"I just... god, I can't believe I ever trusted you."

The chain disappeared in Alastor's shock. Y/n regarded him carefully for a moment before she decided not to waste time and turned to Husk. Crouching down before him, she slowly helped her friend to his feet. Allowing him to balance on her, Y/n began to lead the still trembling Husk down the hallway back to the lobby.

Husk couldn't help but notice, Y/n's hands were far from still either. He looked over at her: brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, a tight frown on her lips. Husk opened his mouth to speak, to thank her, to ask if she was okay but before he could say a word, Alastor spoke again.

"Y/n, I'd like a word with you."

She stilled and so did Husk. This time, it was her turn to keep her back towards Alastor, rather than him keeping his to them. If she had learned anything from Alastor over the years, it was how power worked. Right now, she had the slightest bit of an upper hand unless he decided to use the chain of her own deal. Y/n wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

"Why?" she asked harshly after a moment.

Husk raised his eyebrows, reiterating the unspoken warning he'd ignored from her just a few moments before.

"Please."

Now that was unexpected. Y/n sighed, turning to Husk.

"You okay to go down on your own?"

"Yeah." Husk nodded, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

Y/n took his arm from her shoulder. Had it been anyone else, Husk would have been embarrassed, would have never accepted the help in the first place. This was Y/n, this was different. If anyone understood, she did.

"You gonna be okay, kid?" Husk asked in a hushed voice as she squared her shoulders, turning to face Alastor.

"Yeah." she hummed softly in return, "Always am, aren't I?"

Y/n took a handful of long, confident strides that landed her in front of Alastor once again. She stood tall and confident before him as he smiled menacingly down at her. Husk stood, watching them for a moment before Alastor looked over at him.

"Run along now, Husker." he playfully called to the reluctant cat demon, "I won't keep your soldier long."

Husk made no reply or move to leave until Y/n turned her head to the side, sending him a careful look over her shoulder.

"It's all good. I promise."

Husk nodded hesitently before at last turning around and heading back to the lobby. Y/n and Alastor watched one another carefully, niether saying a word until Husk was fully out of ear shot.

"What did you want to see me about?" Y/n asked coldly, crossing her arms, ready to be punished and not the least bit regretful of what she had done.

"I simply wanted to apologize." Alastor hummed, everything suddenly feeling a lot closer to normal.

Y/n's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"For what?" she asked after a moment, when it became clear Alastor would explain nothing without her prompting.

"That you had to witness that."

"I-" Y/n cut herself off with a sigh, shaking her head slightly, "Jesus fuck, Al."

"Language." he warned and Y/n just glared at him. He changed his tactic. "What ever is the matter, my dear?"

"You are just... why are you apologizing to me?" Y/n demanded, frustration seeping into her voice like sweet sticky honey that caught on everything, "Go apologize to Husk. As I already said, I was hoping this... Mimzy thing... would let me see you fail. He just wanted to help you, and look where that got him."

Alastor's perpetual smile softened slightly around it's edges.

"Why are you so set on watching me fail?" he asked after a a few tense seconds.

Y/n let out a rueful laugh, letting her arms fall from around her chest and settling her hands on her hips.

"Because gosh, wouldn't it just be lovely?" she grinned back at him.

"What?"

"If you got a taste of your own medicine." she taunted, "Caring about someone, trusting them with everything you have, only to have that very thing be the weapon they hold against you in the end."

Of course, it all came back to that. Alastor couldn't blame her.

"Y/n, I don't know how many times I have to say it for you to believe me, but I really did not intend for things to turn out this way." Alastor sighed.

Seven years since he'd seen her and it only took them what, four/five months to come back to this conversation? A new record.

"It doesn't matter how you intended for them to be, it's how they are."

She spun on her heel, taking a few steps towards the lobby before coming to a stop once again.

"Sorry, I forgot." she spat, not turning to look at him, "May I go now, sir?"

"I..." Alastor cleared his throat, "Of course. I have business to attend to."

"Great."

Alastor stood in the hallway, watching Y/n as she disappeared around the corner, watching the air she had occupied. He sighed, there was nothing to be done. There had been some small hope that somehow, someway, the hotel would hope. Clearly, he had been wrong. Alastor shook his head softly in the quiet peace of the hallway.

He wanted to give up on Y/n, he knew he should but still... he just couldn't. It was like a puzzle he was missing a piece of, a game he hadn't quite figured out how to win. A challenge. Alastor never backed down from one of those. He never had before and he certainly wasn't going to start now.

The strange jittery feeling of determination began to feed into his chest cavity through his veins. Doubt, anger, hurt, heartbreak -- all of it was being flushed out and replaced with sheer stubbornness. Alastor couldn't help but feel if he had Y/n, then everything would be okay. That she was the answer to his problems, that if she could love him then he would finally have won. What? Not even Alastor himself could say but that wasn't going to stop him. Nothing was.

----

Y/n sat down at the bar with a sigh as Husk quickly poured her a drink.

"Thank you." he awkwardly said as she downed the glass in one gulp, tapping the edge to ask for a refil.

"For what?" Y/n casually replied as he refilled her cup.

She picked it back up again, this time taking only a single small sip. She savored the second drink and Husk leaned forward on the bar.

"You know what." he rolled his eyes pointedly.

Thankfully Angel and Sir Pentions were keeping Mimzy entertained in the sitting room. None of the trio seemed to notice Husk and Y/n's return. Y/n swiveled her barstool around, leaning her back on the bar top as she watched them enjoy one another's company.

"Shit, Husk." she sighed, "You know me."

"I do." Husk nodded, straightening up and turning to place the bottle of liquor back on the shelf, "What I don't know is how you had the balls to pull something like that."

"I'm not afraid of him." Y/n shrugged, taking another little sip of her drink.

"Bullshit." Husk scoffed and Y/n turned back to him.

"I swear it, I'm not."

"How." Husk asked, eyeing her suspiciously, waiting for her to drop the act, "I felt you shaking earlier."

Y/n shook her head.

"Nah, that wasn't fear. I was just fucking pissed."

"He's the Radio Demon, he literally owns our souls, Y/n. How are you not scared of him."

Y/n's eyes fell onto the contents of her glass as she shrugged again, swirling the liquid around in the bottom of her glass.

"I..." she sighed, "I mean, you know this. I didn't know that's what was going on until..." she trailed off, clearing her throat, "We were friends, for a while actually."

"I know. I remember."

"I cared about him."

The truth hit Husk in the face like a speeding truck.

"Holy shit." he laughed in disbelief, "You like, cared cared about him, didn't you?"

Y/n's cheeks flushed the slightest bit pink. She met Husk's eyes once again.

"I think I was starting to."

"That's why your not scared of him. You loved him."

"Yeah." Y/n sighed after a moment, a sharp pain cutting through her chest like someone was cracking open her ribcage in a morgue, "I guess. Did being the operative word there of course, as in: not anymore. Not that he could ever love someone anyways even if I still did. Oh! Also, if he apologizes to you, tell me?"

"Wh..." Husk's brow furrowed in confusion at the sudden change in topic, "Why would he apologize to me, Y/n?"

"I maybe yelled at him."

"I... you're gonna get yourself killed one day."

Y/n laughed a bright, genuine laugh and Husk smiled over at her in return.

"Maybe." she smirked, leaning over the counter at him, "At least I'll have you to plan my funeral."

"Oh like I'd do that." Husk teased.

"Sure you would."

"Yeah. I'd have it at a gas station."

"Hey, rude." Y/n scoffed, "If you died, I'd throw yours at a casino or something. I'd expect the same kinda treatment on your end for me."

Husk shook his head softly, smiling. At the end of the day, he couldn't help feeling a little lucky for Alastor's deal. How else was he supposed to have met his best friend?

"Yep. Definitely gonna be at a gas station."

---

A/N I'm sorry Husk and the reader are besties and that's what this ended up being about. Yeah. Uh. Yeah.

Unrequited Pt. 3

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

BBYG PART TWO OF GUILTY AS SIN PLEASE I LUV UR WORKSSSS

i hope you guys enjoy this!! i had a lot of fun with it. it’s technically part two but i gave it a different title sorry :)

~~~

Fresh Out The Slammer

James Potter x f!reader

warnings: smut, protected p in v, fingering, slight oral (f receiving), very slight underage alcohol but barely, morally idk how good this is, lmk if i missed any

summary: after you and Remus finally split, you and James finally come together…

word count: 2.8k

a/n: another taylor fanfic hahaha (i love this) lmk what you guys think of the end i thought it was really clever but maybe that’s just me being overconfident…

part one is here!!

~~~

I did my time

Now pretty baby I’m running back home to you

Fresh out the slammer

I know who my first call will be to...

~~~

When you look back on your days at Hogwarts, you always wonder why you and Remus stayed together so long.

It was a week after your monumental conversation with James on the grass that your overdue breakup occurred. You had tried your hardest to give your relationship one last try, you really did. But one night as you laid next to the tall lanky boy, all you could think about was a certain pair of hazel eyes. A pair that didn’t belong to the boy next to you.

That was the final straw.

“Rem,” you said, your voice cool. “I think it’s best we break up.”

You kept your eyes on the canopy above, but you could feel him shift beside you. “Really?”

“Yes. In fact, I think this is overdue. Don’t you think?”

“I suppose so...” he replied.

You turned to look at him. Unsurprisingly, he was sitting calmly as could be with a book in one of his hands. A sigh escaped your lips, but you didn’t say anything else. Instead, you simply stood and began to dress yourself. He was the one to speak again.

“Would it be all right if we remained friends?” He asked his eyes on you for what felt like the first time in a while.

“Of course. Let’s not make it odd for everyone else,” you answered.

He looked back down at his book. “Right. Good night then.”

On the walk back to your dorm you named every reason in your head why you broke up with Remus. He was distant. He didn’t know how to treat you like a true girlfriend. The spark had died between the two of you. The relationship had truly just run its course. But as you stepped into the common room your eyes found the most significant reason.

You refused to put him on your mental list.

~~~

You didn’t know if it was out of respect for Remus or if it was intentional at all, but James waited a few weeks before making any sort of move on you. You were glad. Adjusting to a single life was strange. You no longer spent time alone with Remus, you no longer cried or had fits because of his behavior. He was simply another one of your friends. You liked him better that way.

When James did give you a sign, it was far from subtle.

It came during Charms in the form of a small piece of paper. Of course, Charms happened to be the only class the two of you had together that Remus was not in as well. In fact, the only other member of your friend group who was in the class was Peter and he never paid much attention to anything. So, when you felt the piece of paper hit your lap, you didn’t hesitate to open it.

How’s the single life treating you so far? -J

You turned your head to look at James, a smile on your lips. He was already looking at you, a similar smile on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up as you scribbled your reply and threw it back to him.

It’s better than I expected, most things are the same.

He was quick to throw it back.

That’s true except now you’re free to do whatever you’d like..

You held in a breath.

More like whomever I’d like

You let out a shaky breath at his reply.

Yeah? Well, you know where my bed is

For a few seconds, you stared at the note, not sure if you should write anything more. You turned back to look at him and your eyes instantly met his. He looked at you with a gleam that you hadn’t seen in a boy's eyes in a long time, at least not one directed toward you. So, you picked up your quill and wrote back, not a single guilty thought crossing your mind.

I suppose I’m going to know what it feels like soon too

~~~

Another long week passed before anything happened between you and him. And each day that passed only filled you with more desire. You felt almost giddy at the thoughts. A secret hookup with James Potter. It was something you’d imagined for a long time, but for so many reasons you never imagined it would actually be brought to life.

But it was.

One night, there was a party in the Ravenclaw common room that everyone was attending. Everyone except you. Or so you thought.

“Are you sure y/n/n? It’ll be so much fun,” Lily questioned. You were all in the Gryffindor common room. Everyone else was getting ready to leave, but you sat on the couch in your bedclothes.

“Yeah, I’m not really in the party mood tonight. Plus, I have some work that still needs to be done,” you answered honestly.

“Boring!” Sirius exclaimed. “Don’t worry lovely I’ll make sure to save some alcohol for you.”

“Thanks, Sirius,” you said with a laugh.

“Let’s go, Wormtail, Moony, Prongs.”

“Actually, you lot can go without me. I’m not feeling the greatest.”

Your eyes shot to James. What was he doing? You noticed what he was wearing. A wifebeater and flannel pants. You swore you never wanted to shag him more than at that moment.

“Are you serious?” Sirius groaned. “Whatever mate you’re no fun. We’ll be back later.”

“All right, have fun,” James replied.

“Bye, y/n/n!” The girls sang as they left.

You waved them all goodbye before getting up and turning to the staircase. You could feel James’s eyes burning into you from behind.

“Seems it’s just the two of us for once,” he said, his voice quieter than before.

Your stomach filled with butterflies. “Yeah, it seems that way.”

“I was wondering if you could help me with some Charms work, I know you have the homework as well perhaps we can do it together...” From the tone of his voice, you knew it wasn’t true. But still, you turned and gave him a slight nod. “It’s all in my dorm, let’s just go up there to do it.”

Deep down, you knew you should’ve felt bad. James was your ex-boyfriend’s best friend. If any of them knew about your sinful thoughts, you’d surely be thrown out of the group and shunned. However, while that knowledge made you feel uneasy, it didn’t stop you from following him up to the dorm.

The second the door closed behind the two of you, James’s lips were on yours. Though it came as a surprise, you didn’t hesitate for even a second to kiss him back. His lips were warm and soft, just how you had always imagined. It was messy and quick and when he broke it you found yourself breathless. All you could do was stare at him, your cheeks pink.

“James I-”

“We can take our time if you’d like, I’m sorry I’ve just wanted to do that for so fucking long,” he replied as if he could read your mind.

“Me too, you don’t understand.” You inhaled deeply and took a few steps deeper into the dorm you were all too familiar with. Only this time, you sat on a different bed. “This doesn’t feel real.”

He sat down next to you on his bed, his glowing hazel eyes locked on yours. “Believe me, I understand everything.”

“I just... want you,” you mumbled. It felt so good to finally say it. You placed one of your hands on his thigh. “I want you a lot.”

He smiled in a way that practically sent shivers down your spine. “I want you too.”

“So, take me. You don’t... you don’t have to be gentle,” you whispered with a confidence you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Instead of answering you with words, James leaned closer and caught your lips in another kiss. This time though, it wasn’t messy and rushed. No. It was passionate, it was a kiss that would leave you giggling on your bed when you looked back on it. As your lips moved against his you followed his lead and laid back on the mattress with your legs parted for him to slip in between.

His hands were far bigger than yours. When he slid one of them up your thigh you almost couldn’t remember how to breathe. You kissed him harder and weaved your fingers through his soft curly hair. He toyed with your shorts for a moment before carefully slipping his hand beneath the fabric. It would be an understatement to say you were wet. You were soaked. And you could feel James’s smirk on your mouth when he discovered this.

“Are you always like this?” He mumbled.

You shook your head. “Only when it comes to you.”

“Good.”

He wasted no more time and moved his fingers under your knickers, finding your clit almost instantly. You gasped, one of your hands gripped his strong shoulder tightly, and your eyes squeezed shut.

“James,” you moaned.

He began to trail wet kisses down your neck as he continued to rub soft circles on your clit. Never mind thinking straight, you couldn’t think at all. Your stomach was warm, and waves of pleasure coursed throughout your entire body. You swore you’d never felt anything as good in your life. But when your hand brushed against his shirt you sighed.

“Take it off, take everything off. Please,” you whispered frantically.

You opened your eyes to see James’s bright smile. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Without another word, he leaned back and pulled his shirt off. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring. His muscles were toned, yet he was still skinny. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, but you settled on dragging your fingers up and down his chest for a few seconds.

“Your turn,” he said.

You silently sat up and lifted your tank top over your head and threw it down to the floor. Perhaps it was the amount of lust that consumed you, or perhaps it was the amount of comfort you felt with James. Either way, you didn’t cower or feel insecure as his eyes moved across your naked breasts. In fact, you felt confident. So, you laid back down on his bed and began to pull your shorts and knickers down, your eyes not leaving his.

Only when you were fully naked did you feel a slight feeling of insecurity. James must’ve noticed this though because he leaned over you and pressed a sincere kiss to your lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He brushed a hand over one of your breasts. “So perfect.”

“Fuck me, James, please I can’t bear it any longer,” you replied quickly. It was true, you’d already waited so many months in silence. How were you expected to wait even a second longer?

“I think you can afford to bear it for a few more minutes. I want to have my way with you first.”

You were going to protest, but before you could he slid his hand between your thighs. He swirled his fingers over you, collecting your wetness before eventually carefully moving one of his fingers inside of you. You threw your head back and gripped his sheets hard. It was an even better feeling than you’d imagined. He kissed you hungrily as he slowly started finger fucking you.

As if that wasn’t enough, he kissed down your body minutes later before ending with his face between your thighs. You couldn’t contain your whimpers and moans. If anyone was near the Gryffindor boy's dorm, they’d surely hear you. The fact neither of you thought enough to cast a silencing charm only made it more thrilling.

By the time you reached your first orgasm, you were quite sure you’d never felt anything nearly as good in your life. Remus never cared enough to spend his time pleasuring you, at least not after the first few months. But James cared a whole lot. He touched you with his tongue and his fingers till you were shaking and panting for a break.

When he did stop you watched through heavy lids as he wiped his mouth on your thigh and began to pull down his last remaining articles of clothing. His eyes were glowing, and his glasses were almost falling off his face. You decided then that he was by far the most attractive boy you’d ever seen. And when your eyes trailed down his naked body you found yourself an even bigger reason as to why that statement was true.

“Are you on the potion?” He asked as he began to move over you.

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice weak.

He smirked. “You’re a dirty girl hm?”

“For you yes.”

“How so?”

You smiled sweetly and reached up to remove James’s glasses. “Truthfully? Sometimes I touch myself when I think of you.”

“You’ll have to show me next time.” He shifted and you felt his tip brush against your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat. “Is this what you think about?”

“S-Sometimes yes,” you said with a shaky voice.

All you could do as he slowly began to thrust into you was gasp and wrap your arms around him, your nails digging into his skin. He was big and you were still sensitive from how hard you previously came. Those factors only amplified how good he felt. Once he was fully in, he leaned down to connect your lips in another heated kiss before truly starting the shag.

Though Remus would fuck you hard, he never fucked you the way James did. James went hard, he went fast, but he also showed he still cared. At one point, he removed one of your hands from his back and pressed it against the mattress, lacing his fingers through yours. And his lips were either on yours, on your neck, or whispering sweet praises. Even the way he said your name was enough to tell you how much he cared about you.

You didn’t know how long it went on, but it was long enough that he started to grow tired. At that point, you’d already reached your second orgasm, so you decided he deserved a break. With all your strength, you flipped your positions and took some control. You lowered yourself onto him and nearly came a third time from the sounds he made.

When everything was done and over, the two of you laid next to each other out of breath and shocked at what had transpired. You felt your heart pound in your chest and a sticky feeling between your thighs. You turned your head to look at the boy next to you. He, of course, was already looking at you, his glasses back on.

“That was...”

“Better than any of my fantasies,” you told him.

“Mine too,” he agreed with a smile.

You bit down on your lip. “So now what?”

“Perhaps another go?”

That was an offer you could never refuse.

~~~

Hours later, past midnight at least, the door to the boy's dorm opened and the other three Marauders stumbled in. Sirius was far too drunk; he could barely stand up straight. That left Remus and Peter to stand on either side of him with their arms wrapped around his back protectively. All their eyes found you and James after a few seconds. The two of you sat on his bed, a foot of papers between the two of you.

“Oh, hello y/n,” Peter greeted you.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” Remus questioned.

Sirius only gasped overdramatically. “They’re shagging! Prongsie and Lovely are shagging!”

You rolled your eyes and stood up. “Why don’t we get you to bed?”

“Can I have a go first? Before bed? Please! Is that all right Moony?” Sirius stumbled over his words as his friends dropped him into his bed.

“Nobody’s having a go unless it is Moony,” James said.

Remus turned toward you, a questioning expression on his face. “What are you doing up here?”

You pointed at the many papers on James’s bed. “Charms homework, I told you lot that’s why I wasn’t going to the party. James felt a bit better, so we just decided to work on it together.”

“Will I be allowed to use that work?” Peter asked innocently.

“Of course, Pete,” you replied. You turned back to James’s bed where he still sat, and you began to gather your work. “I should be going then.”

You held your papers close to your chest and tried your hardest not to look at James. You knew if you did, something on your face would clearly show what had really gone on. So, you kept your head down and moved as fast as you could to their door.

“Same time next week then?” James’s voice caught your attention as you were about to leave.

You looked over your shoulder and nodded, trying your hardest not to blush. “Or sooner, I’m very eager to get this work done.”

“All right, sooner, goodnight then,” James replied with a knowing look.

The last thing you heard before leaving was the innocent voice of Peter asking if he could join in and the loud laugh that James let out.

[azulaaaaaaah]

rating every zuko ship (cause that mf is shipped with everyone)

CLICKBAIT!!! this isn’t every zuko ship just the main ones i immediately lied lol. idk if any of these are hot takes or not but please don’t crucify me (might do a part 2 where it’s azula ships)

Jinko - Zuko/Jin

6/10

awwww it’s cute (for what it is)

and what it is was one singular date that was never really mentioned again

i really appreciate how jin is so unperturbed by zuko’s awkward angst and just genuinely likes him

howevvver she’s kinda one dimensional (as she’s only in like an episode) and i just don’t see this going anywhere longterm

less a ship, more a vehicle for zuko’s character development lol

Jetko- Zuko/Jet

3/10

jet being zuko’s first gay encounter is canon in my eyes

don’t ship them however cause i hate jet with the fire of a thousands suns

similar issues to jin as well where their interactions are extremely limited so personally have no clue how this could be a long term thing

Maiko- Zuko/Mai

5/10

i am so impartial on this ship it’s not even funny.

i get that it’s canon. i get that izumi looks suspiciously like mai so it’s endgame. i just don’t see HOW?? it feels as if the writers realised zutara was becoming popular and were like ‘OH SHIT WE GOTTA DEFUSE THIS SITUATION SOMEHOW’

their relationship is basically just mai being a cold asshole and zuko being an angry asshole and there’s no change or development between EITHER OF THEM

however when they’re cute they’re cute !!!!

‘i love zuko more than i fear you’ COLDEST LINE EVER

however again it’s like - you had a crush on him as a kid. he was BANISHED. you dated for like a month as teens. you argued the whole time. he left again- and shortly after you saved him from prison, but then you were imprisoned partly due to his actions. you get back together again, he becomes the ruler of a country, and then you’re surprised it’s isolating him/making him even more of an asshole???

on the other hand we as a society need to admit that zuko is weirdly possessive of her (ig that’s a positive if ur a booktok romance girlie but im not). like if i was mai i wouldn’t put up with that toxic shit either

at the end of the day, i honestly don’t care that they’re canon lol- but i think they’d probably best as a bitchy best friend duo

Zukaang - Zuko/Aang

1/10

not round here partner. not round here

my first issue is the age gap is objectively extremely weird if examined in canon. leaving it at that

i get that this is grumpy x sunshine in a way the other ships aren’t to me- but we’ve only ever seen these two characters interact with each other when there’s (again) A WEIRD AGE GAP

they are bros in the least homosexual way possible

the cherry on top of this situation is: isn’t aang the reincarnation of his great grandpa? isn’t that giving slight, uh, inc*st vibes??? imagine if people shipped korra and jinora isn’t that just WEIRD???

Zuki - Zuko/Suki

8/10

is this my most controversial take ???

i am a sucker for bodyguard x royal family dynamics guys

and the fact that this is girlboss x malewife is even BETTER

suki seems the most competent at handling his pissy ass in a way the other people on this list aren’t

like she’s real. she’s not sugarcoating his situation, BUT SHES COMPASSIONATE !!

i don’t like throuples typically but suzukki is even eliter than this, which removes the whole ‘going against the bro code’ element that arises from them being together

also i feel like if you haven’t read the comics this doesnt make sense At All so please do

-2 points for the lack of tangible reason to ship them lol

Zutara - Zuko/Katara

7.5/10

okay this one makes the most logistical sense to me within canon (solely examined as a zuko ship not overall)

it really seems as if they were gonna make this canon and swerved circa book 2

LIKE CMONNNN OG ENEMIES TO LOVERS WHERE THE GUY ACTUALLY HAS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND ISN’T JUST EVIL? FIRE X WATER? ITS INTRIGUING

something about this makes me uncomfortable though. (despite the age gap which again a little weird)

something about katara potentially becoming the fire lady is so… icky. she’s a waterbender. the fire nation tried to systematically erase her kind. her mother is killed by the fire nation because they think she’s a waterbender. and katara…. what, becomes part of the royal family? it just seems wrong, and like something she wouldn’t be into

also i feel like their arguments would be a little too NUCLEAR. there’s like, a 50% chance of divorce

she deserves a better ending than that is all i’m saying

to paraphrase the hunger games: katara has plenty of fire herself. SHE NEEDS THAT DANDELION IN THE SPRING MAN

(i’m a kataang truther)

Zukka - Zuko/Sokka

9/10

my zuko related otp!!!

bros to lovers guys, where zuko falls first but sokka falls HARDER !!!

ik this will never be canon and im happy with that. i know there’s not even a whisper of romance between them in the show, but i just think it’s c u t e .

sokka (like suki) is very likely to call zuko out on his shit, but less likely to lose his own shit (like katara)

this in my heart of hearts is 10/10 however is still problematic in a similar way to zutara

his mother is killed by the fire nation and he (presumably) becomes consort ?

however though, i would still say it’s not as ruhroh as zutara bc firstly, sokka isn’t a waterbender, and secondly, ‘consort’ is a lot more open to interpretation than i think fire lady is. in my opinion a consort ≠ a fire lady, just like irl a consort ≠ a queen. it kinda means he can still be ambassador to the southern water tribe/a leader of his own people, while just so happening to be married to the fire lord.

overall i can’t help but stan a friends to lover ship cmOn now

[pearlzier]

“why the fuck did this shit just squirt on me,” matt's gaze narrowed at the four year old in front of him, brows raising for a moment before he yelped as he felt your hand hit him upside the head. he glared at you, “what was that for?”

“you can't swear in front of my niece!” you gawk, ruffling his hair gently to apologise for whacking him.

“okay, but, what is this,” he lifted the LOL doll, staring the shit out of it as it makes him severely uncomfortable. the little girl, however, seems positively thrilled by it spewing water whenever you filled it up and squeezed it. she giggled and clapped her hands, and matt merely huffed, proceeding to fill the doll back up with water.

“it's uh,” you grab the piece of paper with names scribbled on them, trying to find where your niece had named her dolls, and soon landing on the name, “chrissy?” matt practically burst out laughing, causing your niece to also laugh too even if she didn't actually know what was happening.

“s'this chrissy, kid? yeah?” he waved the doll around, gently holding it for her and watching as it spewed water from its mouth and made her giggle again. “like uncle chrissy? yeah, that's my girl.”

your heart practically melts, as you watch your boyfriend and your niece play together. he lifts his gaze to yours and he smiles, humming under his breath, “you look a lot like her,” your niece looks a lot like your sister, sure, but matt thinks you two look similar. both incredibly pretty, and adorable. “you two smile exactly the same.”

he looks between the both of you and that only corroborates his claims, and he nods his head again, watching as the little girl handed him a stuffed toy from her toy box. he held it gently in his hands, and he giggles softly. “come sit with us, pretty sure me and the kid are scared of you bein’ up so high.”

you were only sat on the bed, but fair enough, the kid didn't have a great sense of scale from her tiny height. conceding almost instantly, you find yourself sat beside matt, arm to arm, as your niece hands you two various things to play with. “fluffy,” she mumbles at the toy that matt's holding, and he nods gently.

“fluffy toy? or are they called fluffy?” matt looks at you for answers, blue eyes wide and soft. he's so at ease right now, it makes you feel at ease. “wait, look at the uh..” he snaps his fingers, “the list.”

you grab the list once more and your niece stabs a chubby finger at a name on the list, one that says ‘bartholomew’. you and matt both stare at it for a moment, then look up at the baby, then at eachother, and matt says exactly what you're thinking in the first place—“can she even pronounce that..?”

no, she can't, clearly, since the slurry of siunds that slipped from her wet lips were not nearly anything close to the word, ‘bartholomew’. the two of you burst into little giggles and lean against eachother. it's adorable, it's wholesome. even the kid can see it. “uncle matt?”

“yeah, kid?” he speaks up, not looking at the girl but still putting his full attention into talking to her despite the fact he's trying to set up her barbie car.

“do you like auntie?” she bats her lashes idly, chewing idly on her bottom lip as her chubby fingers tug at matt's shirt. he lifts his gaze to hers, his head leant against your shoulder. the question makes both of your brows furrow, and he nods, answering after a second.

“‘course i like auntie, she's my girl,” he says naturally, which too makes your heart warm. matt looks over at you and he interlaces your fingers together, holding your hand for a moment before he looks back at the kid with a little tilt of his head. “why you askin’, hun?”

his gaze searches hers as he sits cross-legged, and he nods his head for her to continue, tone gentle. “uhm.. are you gonna marry auntie?” matt's eyes widen and he swiftly lets go of your hand out of pure instinct.

your gaze flits to his, and when he sees that, he soon clasps your hand into his again, squeezing it. “if she wants to, sure. one day,” god fucking god, he's perfect, you say to yourself. you knew it already however this solidifed it. his blue eyes meet his and he smiles, leaning into your shoulder. “one day, kid.”

your niece seems very happy to hear this, and she continues playing with her toys like literally nothing had happened. like she really hadn't just given you two something to talk about when your sister came and picked the kid up. “you really mean that?” you spoke up after a little moment, eyes searching his as you shifted yourself a little closer.

“mean it, baby,” matt admits, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder with an arm around you before your niece decides conveniently that she wants something to eat. not from you, but from matt. “uncle matt? wan’ sumthin’ to eat..”

“you hungry? aight, c'mon,” he releases you gently and holds out his hand for the little girl so the two of them can head over to kitchen, before matt holds his hand out for you too. he offers a gentle smile, “i'll make somethin’ for you too.”

hey, who can say no to that? you push up off of the floor and you grasp his hand, the three of you making your way down to the kitchen. your niece bounces happily, just happy to be accompanied by her auntie and her uncle.

you realise, a little surprised with yourself that it's taken so long, that matt would make a perfect father. and that maybe that conversation you have is gonna change your lives a little more than you thought.

tags ┆.ᐟ ᰍ ︵ @junnniiieee07 , @st7rnioioss ۫ .

a/n ┆i am so full of ideas to write oh my god ୭ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ ✶

[byoldervine]

How To Always Have Writing Ideas…

For A New Story:

1. Keep a list. Any time you have one of those sudden bursts of inspiration in the middle of writing a separate story, don’t quit your current WIP or pretend you’ll ‘just remember it’, put it into a separate list. You can always go back to this later on

2. Writing prompts. Look them up, use random word generators, pick a random object you can see, whatever helps you come up with any idea at all. Write a few paragraphs. Can it evolve from there?

3. People watch. Go to a public place and make up backstories for the strangers you come across. That man in the hat is using it to hide his elf ears. That woman with the bright pink hair didn’t dye it, she’s secretly the main character of an anime trying to dodge all the tropes and cliches. That toddler is actually a guardian angel reincarnated to watch over their new baby sibling. What brings them to this place? Where did they come from? Where are they going next?

To Continue An Existing Story:

1. Act it out. Say the words aloud, act out what your characters are doing, get props or people to act off of if you need to. See what feels like the most natural progression of the moment

2. Coffee shop AU, or other substitutional one-shot. Good for establishing dynamics between two or more characters, or even just working out a lone character’s day-to-day. Just write a few paragraphs about your characters entering a coffee shop or similar appropriate establishment/ordinary location. What do they do? What do they order to eat/drink? What do they say to each other? How do they treat the staff and other customers? If all else fails, write what they do after they leave, as if it were an ordinary day for them

3. Rubber duck it. This is something programmers use to work out where they went wrong in their code, but I’ve found it can work for figuring out story stuff as well. What you do is get a rubber duck, or any other object of focus, and start explaining your problem to it out loud. In this case you can read your chapter to the duck, or even give it the full run-down of the plot so far. Warning; side effects may include getting frustrated that the problem was right in front of you and subsequently throwing the duck

For Both:

1. Writing graveyards. I talked a bit about them in a previous post, but writing graveyards are basically just the folder you store your deleted scenes in instead of yeeting them into the void. Reread those, see if they have anything you can recontextualise or repurpose

2. Combine ideas. My WIP Byoldervine is a combination of two separate plots I had that I realised I’d be able to combine - twice. I first realised I could put together my ‘angel and demon heroes protecting humans from a war between heaven and hell’ story and my ‘quest through the fantasy realm to find the ingredients to a cure for a dying god’ story into the same universe as two sides of the same story as a duology. Then I realised I could just remove a few characters, tweak a few plot points and mash them completely together into one book. Combining them works wonders and minimises worldbuilding

3. Go out with friends or family. I guarantee that the one time you’ll be flooded with inspiration is when you don’t have an opportunity to write it down