#it's so funny to be doing an ao3 reveal after over a year of having it

[no-brain-just-akutagawa]

A quick announcement!

I now have a writing side-blog for all updates concerning my fics (including the one I'm going to post tomorrow). Don't worry about me making a spam there, because I plan on keeping it focused just on writing (updates and maybe writing asks if I get any) and posting quite rarely, so even if you follow it, it won't be like this blog 2.0 haha

But be mindful that it's 18+ and if I catch anyone younger than 18 following it, I'll block the account right away.

That's it for now!

[ppomumgranatum]

truth or dare.

also available on Ao3

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

type: one shot, you POV, house-neutral reader

word count: 6.5k

Rating: M

Warnings: use of profanities, mild sexual content, Intense make out sesh 😳, characters are in their 7th year.

Summary: Truths emerged and friendships were tested as you found yourself confronting two years' worth of suppressed feelings towards Sebastian. Drunk.

It was girls night for you, Imelda, Natty, and Poppy at the Three Broomsticks. The warmth of the crackling fire danced across the cosy interior of the Three Broomsticks as the four of you settled around the table just by it. The mood is relaxed, the air thick with the aroma of butterbeer and laughter. Shirts and ties, usually stiff and proper, now hang loosely as you let yourselves unwind, embracing the comfort of casual company.

Behind the bar, Sirona moved with practised efficiency, her long apron swaying as she poured drinks and served food with a smile. The clinking of glasses and the clatter of plates blend with the lively chatter of the patrons, creating a vibrant symphony of sound that fills the room.

She made her way over to your table not long after Imelda signalled for another round of butterbeer. If anyone was keeping count, it might have been your third glass, and the beverage had everyone feeling increasingly lighter.

The Slytherin quidditch captain suggested that they should play a game of truth or dare, knowing the game would make the night more exciting and perhaps deepen their friendship.

The rules were simple: each of you would take turns spinning a bottle to determine who would be asked the truth or dare. The chosen person would then have to decide between revealing a truth or completing a dare, no matter how daring or embarrassing it might be. If anyone refuses to do so, they must chug their entire glass of butterbeer.

Imelda, always the adventurous one, volunteered to go first. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she spun the bottle and watched eagerly as it came to a stop, pointing straight at Poppy. Without hesitation, she immediately challenged her Hufflepuff friend, “I dare you to dance in the middle of the Tavern.”

Poppy, ever the good sport, rose to the challenge with a laugh, “Natty, I know you’re the Gryffindor, but let me show you bravery.”

With a confident smile, Poppy gracefully made her way to the centre of the bustling tavern. The eyes of the other patrons followed her every move, curious and amused by the unexpected spectacle unfolding before them. She began to dance, her movements fluid and graceful, drawing cheers and applause from the crowd. With each twirl and leap, she seemed to radiate a contagious energy, filling the room with a sense of joy and excitement.

They cheered her friend on from the table, her dare proving to be a testament to Poppy's drunken adventurous spirit and unwavering bravery.

“I can’t believe she’s actually doing it.” you laughed, feeling disbelieved that drunk Poppy is very funny.

“Go Poppy!” Imelda clapped and cheered at her tiny friend who’s twirling in the middle of strangers.

As Poppy completed her final twirl, she accidentally collided with a taller guy, and his arms instinctively encircled her petite waist to steady her, preventing any stumble.

“Oh! Sorry!” As Poppy apologised, she quickly realised the man she had bumped into was none other than Ominis.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Ominis just chuckled good-naturedly, “Nice moves.”

“T-thanks.” She knew that Ominis was simply being courteous because obviously, he couldn’t have seen her doing all those moves.

“Oi! Poppy, no!” Imelda shouted from across the room, prompting the two people to turn their heads to the loud girl calling out for her “It’s girls night. Come back!”

Poppy chuckled, shaking her head at Imelda's exuberant interruption. "Looks like I'm being summoned," she remarked, casting a playful glance at Ominis before walking away from his embrace. Ominis smiled understandingly as Poppy made her way back to our table, her steps light with amusement.

Your gaze followed Ominis as he made his way back to his own table, and you found yourself locking eyes with Sebastian, who obviously came with his best friend. You were having so much fun with your girls you didn’t notice they were here. You didn’t even know that Sebastian was planning to visit the Three Broomsticks as well.

His piercing gaze held yours for a moment, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and you returned his smile. It felt as if your gut was twisted and turned, in the most enchanting way possible because, Merlin, that man is beautiful as hell.

Natty nudged you to get your attention back and smiled kind of teasingly but you didn’t really bother.

The night went on and the game kept on going. The dares became increasingly daring, you found yourselves caught up in the exhilarating energy of the game, revelling in the thrill of pushing each other outside of our comfort zones.

Natty spun the bottle with a flick of her wrist, the anticipation building as it whirled around before coming to a stop and finally it was finally your turn to take up on the challenge.

A playful smirk danced across Natty's lips as she posed the inevitable question, "Truth or dare?"

“Truth.” You said.

Imelda scoffed and raised her eyebrows in mock surprise at your choice, “I thought the girl who fought goblins and dark wizards to save Hogwarts would be more daring.”

Imelda's playful taunt elicited a round of chuckles from the rest of the group, but you remained unfazed, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. You knew that sometimes the most revealing truths could be just as daring as any physical challenge.

“Don’t worry, I have a good question for this one.” Natty assured, "What's the deal with you and Sebastian?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected question, but you couldn't help but smile at Natty's boldness. The other girls quickly leaned in eagerly, clearly intrigued by the topic.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling a rush of emotions swirling within you. Sebastian had been a constant presence in your life ever since you started your Hogwarts day, his friendship was a source of comfort and strength through both joyous and challenging times. But there’s all to it– friends.

It was not the first time someone threw that question at you. You understood that the close bond you shared with Sebastian might inadvertently lead others to misconstrue your relationship. It wasn't uncommon for people to mistake deep friendships for something more romantic, especially when the connection was as strong as yours and Sebastian's. While you cherished his companionship more than words could express, what you two have was purely platonic.

At least that’s what you like to convince yourself.

Although you’d be lying if you never wondered what it feels like to run your fingers through his brown hair, or how comfortable it would be to rest your head on his chest, or.. how soft his lips might feel against yours. You couldn't deny the allure of such fantasies, the temptation to explore the unknown and experience the intimacy that might lie beyond the boundaries of friendship. But as quickly as the thought had surfaced, you pushed it aside, unwilling to entertain notions that could potentially complicate your relationship with Sebastian.

So in conclusion, do you like Sebastian? Yes.

Will you admit it, even to yourself? No.

But still, you were determined to cherish the friendship you shared with him for all that it was– a source of comfort, support, and hearty companionship. This wasn’t something you’d be willing to risk losing.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you guys, but there’s nothing going on between us.” you lifted your mug to have a sip of your butterbeer as you replied.

“And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you– you’re clearly lying.”

You chuckled at Natty's persistent teasing, her playful banter a familiar soundtrack to your conversations about Sebastian. Despite your repeated assurances, your friends seemed determined to challenge the authenticity of your claims.

With a good-natured shrug, you replied, "Believe what you want, guys, but I assure you, there's nothing romantic."

“Really?” Imelda chimed in, “You’re saying, all of those late night ‘studies’ you often share, those ‘adventures’– for two years, neither of you ever had any momentary lapse?” She pressed on as she made some air quote gestures with her fingers.

Sure, there were stolen glances, and perhaps touches. Not anything raunchy, but like when Sebastian wordlessly reached out and took your hand in his during your walk home from Hogsmeade on a chilly night to keep you comfortable.

Or other moments when Sebastian would act sweet and protective towards you, but you figure it’s all a natural thing. Like how he would come between you and the oncoming attack, shielding you from harm with his own body during your battles with dark wizards. It was merely a fleeting instance of a friend's deep-seated desire to ensure the safety of their companion, just like how you took the Cruciatus curse for him in the scriptorium.

But then again, nothing ever goes beyond any of that. No confessions nor pursuits of something romantic were ever explicitly made. Those moments always dissolved into other lingering echoes of unspoken words.

“Hey, Natty asked the question and I answered.” you stayed persistent with your statement “There is truly nothing.”

“Don’t you wish there was something, though?” Poppy innocently remarked.

Well, isn’t Poppy Sweeting just fucking delightful when she’s drunk, asking all the right fucking questions.

You hesitated, eyes shifted around your friends who were staring at you, anticipating the answer. You couldn't shake the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. They knew you well enough to sense what you were possibly feeling, but as friends who are supposed to be annoying to each other, they just want to hear it coming out of your mouth. The confession– the admittance of your long profound feeling towards the Slytherin boy whose longest relationship was with detention.

Taking a deep breath, you met their gaze with a forced smile, “No, Poppy. Sebastian and I have always been close, but–” You replied as you were trying to choose your next words carefully. "I know you guys want this to be something so bad but I value our friendship too much to risk anything.”

It was a half-truth, a carefully crafted response designed to conceal the true depth of your feelings. The other three shot you a look of disappointment because yet again another lie came out of your mouth.

"Anyway, why is it always about me and Sebastian?" Your frustration bubbled to the surface as you interjected, unable to bear the spotlight focused solely on your relationship with Sebastian. "What about Poppy and Ominis? Aren't they just as obvious as whatever you think is going on with me?”

With a determined edge to your voice, you redirected the conversation, shining a light on the dynamics between Poppy and Ominis. After all, they too shared a close bond that was evident to anyone paying attention. Poppy's cheeks flushed slightly as the attention turned to her.

“Hey, don’t try to change the subject, alright?” she was refusing to have their own relationship coming under the same scrutiny.

There was a momentary silence as Imelda and Natty exchanged glances, like a sudden moment of realisation dawning upon them that they also don’t know much about what’s going on with Poppy.

“So..” Natty carefully started, “Have you guys kissed yet?”

“Stop it.” Poppy insisted.

Imelda chimed in, her tone light but her question holding a curious edge. "You know what I always ponder about?" she mused, her eyes flicking between her friends. "If he's blind, do you reckon he'd still know where.. everything is?" Her hand swept in a casual arc, encompassing Poppy's figure in a playful gesture.

“Imelda Reyes!” Poppy’s eyes widened in disbelief at her friend's vulgar question. You and Natty could only let out a satisfied laugh at the remark. Imelda shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous grin playing on her lips as she revelled in the reaction she had elicited. It was moments like these that reminded you all of the genuine bond you shared, forged through laughter, support, and the occasional inappropriate joke.

The banter continued unabated, with Imelda persistently needling the annoyed Poppy, her playful jabs met with a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement. Meanwhile, Natty, ever the peacemaker, interjected with lighthearted comments and gentle nudges to steer the conversation away from the edge of tension.

As you watched the amusing interactions among your friends, you realised that your glass was running empty. So you took a final chug at the remaining butterbeer and excused yourself from the lively conversation. You made your way to the bar, eager to replenish your beverage.

At the bar, you signalled Sirona for another round, patiently waiting as she bustled about, attending to the needs of other patrons. Leaning casually against the polished wood, you watched as she deftly mixed drinks and served customers.

In the midst of your wait, a man sidled up beside you. You took a glance at him and realised it was a Ravenclaw student, Andrew Larson. A charming grin played on his lips and you returned his smile. He raised his hand to catch Sirona's attention, signalling his order with a casual wave. With a quick nod and a warm smile, she acknowledged him before returning to her tasks. As Andrew turned back to you, his gaze lingering a moment longer.

“Hi." he greeted, "Haven't had the pleasure of seeing you around here lately.”

You returned his greeting with a warm smile. “Well, it’s our final year, with the N.E.W.T coming up–” She sighed, “You’re a Ravenclaw, you know the rest.” As a resident of the house that embraces learning, she figured he would be able to relate the most.

Andrew's charming grin widened at your response, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Well, I'm glad you’re here now." he said, his voice smooth and easygoing. "This place is always more enjoyable with good company."

Did he just.. flirt with you?

The hottie of Ravenclaw– the tall, broad shoulder, blonde, Andrew Larson was flirting with you? It was flattering, surely, but your heart wasn’t exactly there.

“Can I get you–” As he was about to offer you a drink, Sirona came with your fully filled mug of butterbeer. Andrew halted his sentence, a bit embarrassed, but made quite the quick comeback “something else from the bar? Snack, maybe? Or more drinks?”

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as you noticed Andrew's flustered reaction to the unexpected arrival of your butterbeer. It was clear that he had been planning to offer to buy you a drink, only to be thwarted by Sirona's timely arrival.

"Actually, I think I'm all set for now," you replied with a grateful smile, gesturing to the mug of butterbeer in front of you. "But thank you for the offer."

“Are you sure?” He persisted.

“Yes, Andrew.” You gave him your warmest and sincere smile.

Andrew nodded understandingly, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks as he recovered quickly from the momentary embarrassment. "Well, if you change your mind–”

“I don’t think she will, mate.” Before Andrew could finish his sentence, Sebastian's voice cut through the air, his presence suddenly dominating the scene. He leaned casually against the bar, his arm resting just behind your back. It almost felt like he was about to embrace you, his proximity drawing you in.

With Sebastian's taller frame towering over you, it felt like your face was almost nestled somewhere around the crook of his neck. Amidst the chatter of the tavern and the scent of butterbeer, you couldn't help but catch a whiff of his cologne—a captivating blend of fresh, woody, and spicy notes that seemed to envelop you in its seductive aura.

“Excuse me?” The sweet and soft look on Andrew’s face was replaced by a subtle hint of defensiveness.

“She doesn’t want anything from you, so.. run along, Larson.”

Caught between the two men, you felt a surge of unease wash over you, unsure of how to diffuse the tension that hung thick in the air. Andrew didn’t even bother to argue with Sebastian, he just excused himself and the two of you were left alone.

Your hand instinctively reached out to smack Sebastian's chest, the action fueled by a mixture of frustration and confusion. "What the fuck was that?" you demanded, your voice low but laced with an undercurrent of anger.

Sebastian flinched slightly at the unexpected gesture, his expression shifting from defensiveness to contrition. "I was just trying to protect you from that undoubtedly sleazy guy who's trying to worm his way into your clothes. You're welcome."

"What?" you exclaimed, caught off guard by Sebastian's blunt statement.

"It's Andrew Larson," Sebastian clarified.

Your face twisted into a puzzled expression as Sebastian stated the obvious, and you replied sarcastically, "Oh, pardon me, I thought it was Ominis."

Sebastian rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You know how he is."

Sure, whispers were circulating about Andrew, portraying him as a womaniser whose primary goal was to seduce as many girls as he could. But you weren't some naive ingénue who could easily be swayed by sweet words and charm. Despite feeling flattered by Andrew's attention earlier, you were offended by the implication from Sebastian, of all people, that you were incapable of protecting yourself. After all the battles you've faced and triumphed over, you knew you were more than capable of handling any advances or situations that came your way.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes in response, a mixture of annoyance and amusement bubbling within you. It was typical of Sebastian to jump to conclusions and assume the worst about others, especially when it came to your interactions with guys.

"Yeah, I know," you replied, your tone tinged with sarcasm. "Because Andrew is clearly the biggest threat to my virtue in this entire tavern."

“Merlin, did your butterbeer contain five percent alcohol and ninety-five percent sarcasm?” Sebastian let out an exasperated sigh as his frustration was evident in the way he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm just looking out for you, okay?" he muttered, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

You softened slightly at his words, "I’m sorry," you said while offering him a small smile of reassurance. "But, maybe I wanted to be swayed and flirted with by some cute guy tonight.” Those last statements came out a bit soft but Sebastian could still hear it.

Sebastian chuckled softly at your admission, his eyes softening with amusement as he took in your slightly flushed cheeks and the playful glint in your eyes. "Wow, you're really drunk, aren't you?" he teased gently, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You grinned sheepishly in response, nodding slightly. "A little bit, yeah," you admitted, feeling a surge of warmth spreading through you at his lighthearted response.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you caught Sebastian's intense gaze locked onto yours. There was something magnetic about the way his eyes bore into yours, drawing you in with an almost hypnotic allure.

His appearance only added to the intensity of the moment. His hair was tousled in a way that made him look effortlessly handsome, his shirt untucked and his tie slightly loosened, giving him a casual yet undeniably appealing air. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing the veins in his arms, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of attraction deep in your chest.

Merlin's sake, he looked so hot.

For a moment, you found yourself momentarily lost in the depths of his gaze, captivated by the raw energy that seemed to radiate from him. It was as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered.

"So, you girls having fun?" Sebastian asked with a casual tonel as he attempted to steer the conversation back to lighter topics.

You nodded, grateful for the change in subject. "Uh, yeah, we're just playing truth or dare," you replied, gesturing towards the table where your friends were gathered.

Sebastian's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Oh, is that why Poppy randomly started dancing then?" he asked, a hint of amusement colouring his voice.

“Yeah, something like that," You chuckled. “Anyway I think I should go back before Imelda starts screaming at me.”

Sebastian nodded in understanding, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, probably a good idea," he agreed. "I'll see you around?"

You returned his smile with a nod, feeling a sense of warmth and gratitude wash over you. "Definitely." you replied with genuine affection.

It sounded like an assurance– like a promise that you will always be around.

As you rejoined the lively group at the table, the warmth of Sebastian's presence lingered in the back of your mind. Immediately, you were greeted by a chorus of playful cheers and teasing remarks from your friends. Imelda, in particular, couldn't resist the opportunity to poke fun at your brief absence, teasing and winking suggestively in Sebastian’s direction.

You knew this would just add more fuel to the fire of assumptions your friends are already burning. Your cheeks flushed at the teasing, but you couldn't help but laugh along with them. Throughout the night, amidst the laughter and banter, you couldn't help but steal glances at Sebastian, who was seated across the room. His presence seemed to draw you in like a magnet, and no matter how hard you tried to focus on the conversation at hand, your gaze would inevitably wander back to him.

It’s getting late, and your group is getting aggressively more drunk. Everyone was so out of place, Imelda, with her usual flair for the dramatic, had climbed onto a nearby chair, belting out a tune that she had seemingly composed on the spot. Her voice echoed through the tavern, a mix of off-key notes and drunken enthusiasm that drew both cheers and laughter from the patrons.

Natty, meanwhile, had succumbed to the effects of the alcohol, her head resting on the table as she dozed off into a peaceful slumber. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of your friend, her normally lively demeanour replaced by the serene expression of someone lost in dreams.

And Poppy– oh dear, sweet, Poppy, was sitting on Ominis’ lap with her tongue down his throat. you caught Sebastian's eye, and you couldn't help but give him a sympathetic look. But to your surprise, he simply shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. It seemed that even he couldn't resist feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the sight of his best friend finding some unexpected romance amidst the chaos of the night.

With a chuckle, you shook your head in amusement, realising that despite the drunken antics and the questionable decisions, nights like these were what memories were made of.

Despite your best efforts to keep up, you found yourself feeling increasingly out of sync with the chaotic energy of the group. The alcohol seemed to weigh heavily on your senses, dulling your reactions and leaving you feeling disconnected from the revelry around you.

You noticed Sirona, the bartender, casting concerned glances in your direction. Her furrowed brow and subtle gestures of worry did not go unnoticed amidst the chaos of the tavern.

Finally, she approached your table, her expression a mix of concern and gentle determination. "I hate to interrupt the fun, but perhaps it's time for you all to call it a night." she said softly, her voice carrying a note of genuine care.

With a sigh of resignation, you understood that it was up to you to take charge and ensure your friends made it home safely. Despite Poppy's protests, you gently coaxed her away from Ominis' embrace, linking arms with her as you led the group out of the tavern.

As you walked, Poppy violently let go of your arm and ran to stroll by Ominis’ side, their laughter and whispered conversations filling the night air. Imelda and Natty stumbled along behind them, their steps unsteady but their spirits high as they chatted and laughed amongst themselves.

Bringing up the rear, you found yourself walking alongside Sebastian, the two of you trailing behind the rest of the group. You were stumbling a little bit so you reached out instinctively to steady yourself, grasping onto Sebastian's arm for support. Your fingers wrapped around his muscled and strong biceps, finding purchase in the solidity of his frame.

"Whoa, easy there," he chuckled, his voice warm and amused as he shifted slightly to support your weight. "Looks like someone's had a bit too much to drink."

You couldn't help but laugh at his teasing, the sound echoing through the quiet streets of Hogsmeade. "Guilty as charged." you admitted, leaning into his solid presence as you regained your balance.

You couldn't help but blush at the unexpected closeness, the warmth of his touch sending more heat to your face. You still have your arms tightly secured around him as you navigate the streets of Hogsmeade together. As you and Sebastian walked, your pace noticeably slower than the others, you watched as your friends gradually disappeared ahead of you. Imelda's infectious laughter echoed down the street, followed by the soft murmur of some other conversations.

“Hey, let’s play truth or dare.” you proposed, a mischievous twinkle in your eye as you glanced at Sebastian.

Sebastian chuckled, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I don't know if I'm ready to share all of my secrets." he teased.

You chuckled at his remark, the alcohol still coursing through your veins lending a sense of boldness to your suggestion. "Come on, it'll be fun."

Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "Alright, you go first. Truth or dare?”

You paused for a moment, considering your options before finally replying, "Dare."

A mischievous grin spread across Sebastian’s face as he formulated a challenge. "I dare you to.. serenade the next person we pass on this street.”

You scoffed at the challenge, deeming it far too easy to pass up. As an older gentleman, dressed impeccably in a top hat and proper suit, approached, you seized the opportunity. Stepping boldly in front of him, you launched into a spontaneous serenade, belting out a random song from the depths of your imagination.

The man's reaction was one of sheer bewilderment, his eyes widening in disbelief as he continued walking, shooting you a perplexed glance over his shoulder. But you were undeterred by his reaction, pouring your heart and soul into the impromptu performance.

Sebastian couldn't contain his laughter, doubling over with amusement as he watched the scene unfold. With a grin, he pulled you away from the bemused gentleman before things got too out of hand and you got reported for harassment. "Alright, you lunatic," he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "That was not too shabby."

You grinned triumphantly as you kept on walking, feeling a rush of exhilaration at having completed the dare. "Hey, I aim to please." you replied, your voice filled with satisfaction.

As the two of you continued down the street, still chuckling at the absurdity of the situation.

"Okay, your turn." you said to Sebastian.

"Truth." Sebastian replied, his expression curious yet composed.

You hummed thoughtfully, considering your question carefully before finally deciding on one that would test the waters. "Do you think I'm pretty?" you asked, your voice tinged with playfulness.

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected question. He paused for a moment, his gaze searching yours before a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Of course," he replied sincerely, his voice soft yet earnest. "I think you’re beautiful."

You hummed in amusement and couldn't suppress a giggle. "I think you're beautiful, too, Sebastian Sallow." you admitted, feeling a rush of warmth at the confession. As you rested your head on his arm, a comfortable silence settled between you.

He chuckled at the sight of your sly face leaning on his arm and eyes could barely manage to stay open “You’re so drunk.”

“I told you I wanted to be swayed by a cute guy tonight.” you mumbled, your words slurred slightly from the effects of the alcohol.

"I think you've had enough swaying for one night," he teased, his voice warm and affectionate.

You let out a soft giggle in response, the alcohol making everything feel hazy and surreal. "Maybe," you conceded with a playful grin. "But it's your turn. Quick.”

“Fine. Dare me.”

“Alright,” you replied. This time, you took your time considering what dare to give him. You want to make sure that you’re optimising this opportunity. You didn’t know what had gotten into your head aside from the obvious alcohol, but spurred on by a sudden surge of courage, you somehow managed to say, “I dare you to kiss me.”

Sebastian laughed at your request, and thought you were kidding, but it quickly died down and stopped at his feet when he saw your face looking serious “Wait, you’re serious?”

You held his gaze steadily, “Yes.” Despite the sudden rush of nerves coursing through your veins, you stood your ground, determined to see this dare through. “Kiss me.”

His expression shifted from amusement to something more contemplative, like his eyes were searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But your gaze was unwavering as if urging him to finally close the distance you’ve been dreaming to perish.

Sebastian took a step closer and lifted your chin with his finger to get a better view of your lips. As he leaned in closer, you closed your eyes in anticipation of your first kiss with Sebastian, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. When his lips finally met yours, there was a surge of energy coursing through your entire body, sending shivers down your spine.

It was a soft and tender kiss, nothing deep, but it filled with emotion that had been kept away for two years. It was truly a moment that took your breath away. Surrounded by the quiet beauty of the night, you felt a connection between you and Sebastian that transcended words. It was as if the universe had aligned just for this moment, bringing the two of you together in perfect harmony.

He pulled away, and your gazes locked. You could tell his breathing was shallow from the nerves. The look on his eyes was something you’ve never seen before like a mixture of desire, longing, and a hint of vulnerability. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to devour you– to be lost in you with passion.

In that moment, you felt a surge of boldness coursing through you, fueled by the electric connection between you and Sebastian. Without hesitation, you reached out, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled him closer, your lips crashing together in a fierce and hungry kiss. It was like a wildfire consuming you both, igniting a passion that burned hotter with each passing moment.

Sebastian wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer until your bodies were pressed tightly together. A soft moan escaped your lips as you felt the heat of his touch. It was as if every nerve in your body was alight with lust, and you couldn't help but respond to the intensity of the moment.

As if spurred on by the sound of your moan, Sebastian deepened the kiss, his lips moving with a hunger that matched your own. You felt his crave coursing through him, a raw and primal energy that left you breathless and wanting more.

Without hesitation, you parted your lips, inviting him to explore the depths of your mouth with his tongue. Sebastian tilted his head so he could gain better access. It was a dance of passion that's been kept away for two years and each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

It was truly magical, and sensual even. You didn’t care about the fact that the two of you were standing in the middle of the road or if someone passed by and stared, because in that moment, it truly felt like you finally owned each other. It made you think of all the sinful things you wanted him to do to you and It was as if a silent understanding passed between you, a shared desire that fueled the intensity of the kiss. Without a word, Sebastian guided you backwards until your back met the sturdy trunk of a tree by the roadside.

As his lips trailed along your jaw, ear, and down to your neck, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the sensation of his touch. Every brush of his lips against your skin sent heat to your loin. When his hand found its way to your breast, cupping and squeezing it with a firm yet gentle touch, you couldn't contain the moan that escaped your lips. Your body truly felt as if it was on fire, craving his touch with an intensity that left you breathless.

Instinctively, you lifted your leg to his side, drawing him closer and inviting him to explore further. The consuming lusts between you was fucking evident.

As Sebastian's hand explored your chest, eliciting waves of pleasure with each touch, you couldn't help but release another soft moan of pleasure “Oh.. Sebastian..”

At the call of his name, it was as if a sudden wake-up call had jolted Sebastian out of the passionate haze. He pulled away abruptly, his gaze locking with yours, his eyes filled with a mix of realisation and apprehension. In that moment, it was as if the weight of what had just transpired between you both crashed down on him like a ton of bricks.

All you could think about was the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, the realisation dawning on you that your friendship with Sebastian was officially ruined. The two of you were breathless and exhilarated. Your lips swollen and tingling with the remnants of his touch.

He took a couple of steps back away from you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you screamed in your head. He remained silent, his eyes locked on yours, leaving you to wonder what the fuck was going on? Was he regretting it? The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you as you tried to decipher the expression on his face. It was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping in.

“Sebastian..” you whispered.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said as he looked away, “I didn’t mean to..”

“It’s okay..” You replied.

Your words echoed in the silence that followed, and you felt a pang of disappointment wash over you. It was as if reality had come crashing down, shattering the illusion of the moment you had shared together. But then, unable to resist the urge to seek reassurance, you blurted out the question that had been lingering in your mind. "Do you like me?"

Sebastian's expression softened as he looked back at you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that sent a flutter through your chest. “Of course, I do.” He replied rather softly.

“Like a friend?”

A lump formed in Sebastian’s throat, making it hard for him to swallow as nervousness crept over him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation they were about to have. “Well, friends don’t do the things that we just did, do they?”

“Not really.” You replied. The weight of his words sobering you up almost instantly. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the stark reality of the situation between you.

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions, each of you grappling with the implications of what had just transpired. You took a deep breath and with a shaky hand, you reached up to straighten your messy shirt and ran your fingers through your dishevelled hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Do you want it to be more than just a friend?" he finally managed to say.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his question, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. You looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability reflected in them, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “Do you want it to be?”

“I asked you first.” He quickly and assertively interjected, “Do you want it to be something more?”

"Yes," you replied softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of your pounding heart. "Yes, I do."

"Then, how come you never said anything?" he asked, his tone tinged with a mixture of frustration and longing.

“How come you never said anything?”

He felt a pang of guilt at his words, realising that he had been holding back his true feelings for far too long. "How was I supposed to know?" he shot back, your voice tinged with defensiveness.

"Oh, because we've only been hanging out together every day for two years, we shared countless life and death moments, was that not enough?" you added sarcastically, the weight of your unspoken emotions finally surfacing. “Am I.. not enough?”

Sebastian's expression softened at your words, a look of understanding crossing his features. He took a step closer. "You are more than enough," he said softly and his voice was filled with sincerity. "You are everything to me."

“Everyone wonders why we aren’t together,” you echoed softly. “Well, little did they know I also wondered the same thing.” You looked up at Sebastian, meeting his gaze with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. And as you stood there, lost in each other's eyes, you could find everything you’ve ever wanted.

He took another step forward, “I want you.” and another, until he could reach out to caress your cheek, “I’ve always wanted you ever since you kicked my ass in Hecat’s class.”

You couldn't help but laugh at his response, a mixture of relief and joy bubbling up inside you. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and suddenly, everything felt right in the world. His fingers tracing the curve of your jaw with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. In that moment, all the doubts and fears that had plagued you seemed to fade away.

“I want to love you.. to feel you..” He continued, “Way more than what we just did.” He smiled, but you could tell he was a little bit nervous.

"Well, you made me wait two years," you teased gently, a playful glint in your eye. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”

Sebastian's smile widened at your response, a sense of relief washing over him as he realised that you felt the same way. In that moment, you knew that you were both ready to take the next step in your relationship, to explore the depths of your love together with open hearts and open minds.

And as you leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the journey that lay ahead. With Sebastianfinally by your side, you know everything is going to be great.

[zinfindoll]

Gehenna | fem!reader x twst | 00.

[ ao3 | quotev ]

[ index | next chapter (coming soon!) ]

Rating: T CW: Injuries, gore, mentioned death

AN: i wanted to write smth spooky for halloween so i have a reader from the evil dead world being sent over to twisted wonderland. this takes place directly at the end of evil dead 2, when ash gets sent to 1300 A.D.! you do not need to watch or consume evil dead media to hopefully enjoy this piece <3 I do not update often on here but feel free to follow my AO3 or Quotev for more constant updates! <3 there are currently more chapters uploaded to AO3 and Q right now.

It was funny how everything could change in the span of two days.  In just two days, you had watched your sister and her friends die.  In just two days you had gone from the happy-go-lucky 16 year old to a war-hardened vet.  You had seen everybody around you get brutally murdered, had seen your older brother get possessed and try to kill you, had fought against forces best left unseen.

And now, you were dying.

Everything hurt.  Your body felt like it was on fire, and you felt cold.  As you lied on the ground next to the lifeless body of Annie, you struggled to prop yourself up on your one good arm.  Each movement brought fresh waves of pain that had you whimpering.

You had come so far.  So fucking far.  And for what?  To bleed out just when the demon had been defeated?  What a joke.

Your brother crawled over to where you and Annie laid, and you could see tears drip from his eyes as he helped you to sit up.  "We did it," he gasped.  Blood dripped from his head from one of the many wounds he had gotten in his own fight against the Kandarian demon.  "No, no, c'mon kid, stay with me!"

Ash was rapidly smacking your cheek, the sensation stinging.  You didn't realize your eyes had been closing, and you groggily opened them back up, staring up at his panic-stricken face.

"M...  Really tired."  Your words were slurred, and he began to shake you.  In any other instance you would have scolded him for being so rough.  If somebody was bleeding out, you didn't try to give them shaken baby syndrome!

"God damn it, stay awake!"

"Why... are you always so loud?" you rasped.  Before he could respond, though, the cabin door flung open, revealing what could only be described as a worm hole of sorts.  It sucked everything in indiscriminately, and you watched with faint amusement as you could see Ash's car be pulled in from outside.  That was rough.

"Agh!"

Ash cried out, holding you close with his one good arm.  You appreciated him not bringing his chainsaw hand near you, although perhaps that would be the final step to put you out of your misery.

"How do you stop this?!"  Ash exclaimed as the two of you began to be pulled across the floor.  You grimaced at the feel of being pulled by such a strong force.

"Don't worry 'bout me," you muttered.  "Just go."

Ash held onto you tighter.  "No!  First Cheryl...  I'm not losing you, either!"

It was easier said than done, though.  Neither you nor Ashley were strong enough to resist the pull of the vortex, and with no solid grip, you were the first to be pulled in.  You offered no resistance, weakly clutching onto the Kandarian dagger that you had managed to pry from Annie's back.

He cried out your name as you felt yourself lift up off the ground; and the last thing you saw was his distraught face before the world around you turned black.

You were dead.  This, you were certain.  After all, not only were you standing in complete darkness, but you were completely uninjured.  You didn't feel any pain, and both of your arms were in perfect working condition.  You even flexed your left fingers experimentally, relieved to see everything was in order.

Everything that had happened was fresh in your mind, which was why you knew, without a doubt...  

You were dead.

So where were you?  Was this limbo?  Was this truly the afterlife?  Desolate and bleak?  You had at least been hoping to see Cheryl again, but even she was gone.

You were completely alone.

Your knees buckled underneath you, the weight of everything that had happened weighing on you.  You sank to the cold ground, and you let out a shuddering breath.

"You're not dead yet."

Your head snapped up, but you made no move to stand.  In front of you stood...  Well, something.  You weren't sure if it was exactly a person.  Their form seemed to shift and phase.  It was humanoid in shape, but you couldn't really process any features, as if your mind was incapable of handling such a feat.  At this point, you weren't surprised.  The past few days had been literal hell for you.

"What does that mean?"

Slowly, you forced yourself to stand back up.  Your legs trembled, but you stayed standing.  The figure was only a little bit taller than you, and their voice was layered.  When they spoke, it was as if many voices were speaking at once, an amalgamation of tones that created a dissonance in your mind.

"You fought well against the Kandarian demon and the Deadites, child."

"The....  huh?"

The entity sighed, although it seemed to be more in amusement than anything else.  Its tone remained calm and patient, addressing your obvious confusion.

"The ones you once loved, possessed by demons from another plane...  Those beings are, of course, the Deadites I refer to.  It is rather unfortunate that you had to encounter them...  But it is, whether you like it or not, the best."

"The best?  Those things killed my sister, my friends — me."  Your voice was choked up, cracking.  But the being said you weren't dead yet.  Was there hope for you?

"Indeed," the entity did not seem phased by your outburst.  "You and your brother, Ashley Joanna Williams, were prophesized to be the ones to fight against the Kandarian demon, far before your ancestry could be traced back.  Whether you like it or not, it is your duty to protect the Necronomicon from those who wish to wield it.

"You and Ashley Joanna Williams...  Are set to save the world, one day."

You shook your head.  Your throat felt dry.  "No.  No.  We're just...  a couple of idiots from Michigan.  We've never done anything remarkable throughout our lives.  You...  Have to be mistaken.  This was all a mistake.  A simple case of the wrong place and wrong time."  You shook your head again.  There was no way...  No way your fate was to do something so scary.  It was a mistake.  You refused to believe otherwise.

The entity was not perturbed by your adamancy, nor did it budge.  "Whether you want to believe it or not, it is true.  When you are much older, you will face off against Kandar the Destroyer."  The entity paused in its wording, before continuing.  "However...  I do not believe it is time yet to thrust you into such a role.  As Ashley Joanna Williams has been sent to find his own way and truth, so will you."

"Where is my brother?"

You took a hesitant step forward.  If this meant Ash was still alive...  You could at least rest a little bit easier.

"1300 A.D."

You nearly choked on your spit, slapping your hand over your mouth.  "He's where?!"  Your voice came out in a squeak.

"Fret not, child.  I will not be sending you so far back in the past.  His job is to save that era from darkness.  You, too, will be sent somewhere where your presence is needed."

"I want to go back home—"

The entity waved its hand.

"And in time, you shall return to Elks Grove.  But for now, you have your own part to play.  Rest easy, child.  Your story...  Is just beginning."

 The darkness began to lighten up, and you watched as the entity began to fade.

"Who are you?"

The entity spoke next, but it was pure static in your ears.  Brightness engulfed you.

When you woke up, your body was in pain.  You were surrounded by darkness once more, but you could tell this time it was because you were in an enclosed space.

Is this...  a coffin?!

You felt like you were going to throw up.  Sharp pains radiated throughout your torso, and you held your hand up to your abdomen only to find it sticky.  You were still bleeding.  Even worse, only your right hand had any movement, your left arm dangling uselessly at your side.  It was for the best you couldn't see it right now; when possessed, Ash had driven his chainsaw through your forearm.  It was a miracle it was still attached.

"Well, at least somebody had the decency to stay in their coffin before I could grab them!"  The muffled voice was flamboyant in nature, and you winced as light began to crack through the lids.  "Once I grab this last student, we can be on our way to the entrance ceremony to get you all sorted— hm?!"

As the lid was removed, you couldn't help but fall forward.  You landed on the ground with a rough thud, and you were grateful you didn't break your nose in the process.  The room was tinted blue, and you could have sworn you saw books floating around you in the peripheral of your vision.

"Sevens — what has happened to you?!  There's so much blood....!"

The voice was panicked, and you were rolled over onto your back.  You saw glimpses of two faces; one covered in a strange, black mask, and the other of a person with long black hair and worried silver eyes.

"Never in all of my tenure...  No matter!  We must get her to the infirmary posthaste!"

"What the..."

Before the words could finish leaving your lips, everything, once more, went black.

[talkfantasytome]

As You Wish - Part 1

Nesta has a small procedure and is stuck with Cassian being the one to drive her to and from. Little does she know he's planning on sticking around all day to take care of her.

Warnings: Fluff | Word Count: 2,418 | Read on AO3

Nessian Masterlist

a/n: Written for Day 4 of @sjmromanceweek - Little Things

Beep…beep…beep…

The incessant sound was music to Cassian's ears as he sat by Nesta's bed, the only sign that she was still alive, still breathing.

Her body was entirely motionless. Any movements spreading from the rising and falling of her chest were barely visible from where he was, her back to him. Apparently, the procedure called for her being laid on her side, and they didn't let visitors sit on that side of the bed. The nurses needed access there.

It had Cassian tapping his foot and rubbing his hands against his legs as he waited. She'd been out of the procedure room for over ten minutes now. How much longer was he expected to wait patiently? At what point was he allowed to worry?

He pulled out his phone and texted Az. She's still not awake.

Didn't she just go in? Az asked back, likely over the frequent updates Cassian's been giving. He wasn't allowed in the prep area initially. They'd made him stay in the waiting room until Nesta had gone into the procedure room. Only once she was back out after the procedure did they let him go back there. Likely checking to make sure Nesta felt safe with him.

It was good how the doctors would separate their patients from others and ask about their safety at home. How they'd find a way to ensure the patient had all the control over who was allowed to be with them when and where. He liked that they did that.

He liked even more that he'd been granted access to the prep room once she was back. That she'd allowed him in. Considering how hard Nesta had tried to find someone else to be her ride, he figured she would keep him as far away as possible for as long as possible.

She's been out for at least ten minutes, he typed into his phone. It was his best chance at distraction.

I'm not dignifying that with a response.

Dick.

Cassian rolled his eyes and shoved his phone back into his pocket. Fine, he would wait without any support from his brother. He'd just watch Nesta.

It was one of his favorite pastimes.

Her golden brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun, strands of hair poking out from her hairband. Cassian had nearly lost it when he showed up that morning, seeing Nesta in a hairstyle other than her pristine braided coronet. Her hair was always so immaculate. Even at the end of the day, the wisps of hair that had fallen out of her standard updo always looked purposeful. But this, this was disheveled and honest. It said, 'This procedure is far too early for me to do anything but brush my teeth and put on leggings,' and Cassian loved it. Almost as much as he imagined he'd love her hair down.

Maybe he'd get the chance to see that today, too.

A nurse came to stand at the computer in front of Nesta's bed, checking that and her monitor. "Should be any minute now," she said to Cassian, her eyes relaying the kind smile she was offering him behind her mask. "Remind me who you are? Her boyfriend?"

Cassian's heart fluttered at the comment, the possibility. And nearly broke as he answered honestly, "No, just a friend."

That's all he'd ever been. For years. Sure, he wanted more. He'd be an idiot not to. Nesta was everything he'd ever wanted. Sharp, funny, challenging, devastatingly beautiful. It wasn't for lack of trying, though. He'd been flirting his little heart out since the day he met her three years before. Sometimes she reciprocated, other times she may as well have kneed him in the balls with how she responded. And then there were the times when he showed her all he was, when he took off his funny-guy mask and let her see his true self. And every time she'd offer the same, revealing a soft filling within a shell of iron. It was gorgeous, and gave Cassian the hope everyone told him he was a fool for holding on to.

"I'm sure she's glad you're here," the nurse said in her soft voice. Cassian wasn't so positive. "When she wakes up, she'll likely be a bit disoriented, but she should come to relatively quickly. It wasn't general anesthesia, so her mind won't be too cloudy."

He nodded just as the monitor's beeping quickened slightly. And then her body stirred. It was barely a twitch, but it was some form of movement. A sign of life, of growing consciousness.

Cassian still couldn't see her face, but her head moved a bit, and then the nurse was speaking. "Hey there," she said gently.

Nesta must've opened her eyes to prompt that from the nurse. Right? Those storm cloud eyes that haunted every one of Cassian's dreams. Mother above, he wished she would turn and face him. That he would get to look into those eyes, that perfect face, make sure she was truly okay.

"How are you feeling?" the nurse asked after a long silence.

"Fine," Nesta replied in a sleepy, scratchy voice. "My throat…"

"Yes, it will likely be sore for a day or two," the nurse explained. "If it's still sore by Monday, please let us know. Would you like to try and sit up?"

Cassian watched Nesta's head move up and down. The nurse walked over to the other side of the bed and helped her, adjusting the bed so that the head would be propped up a bit. Nesta grunted softly, as if the movement took more effort than normal. But soon enough she was settled against the pillows and sitting up enough to be able to turn and see him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice remaining groggy.

He gave her a crooked grin as he said, "You let me in, sweetheart."

Nesta rolled those grey-blue eyes, shaking her head at him. A very Nesta reaction, which likely meant the sedative was wearing off quickly. It warmed Cassian's heart, even as she replied, "Next time, I'm taking the bus."

"Good luck with that," he chuckled. She didn't respond, switching her focus back on to the nurse who was now asking her if she'd like something to eat.

The nurse grabbed her the Cheez-Its Nesta requested after being given a list of the options, and then began chatting with her as she undid the wires and all that was attached to Nesta. "So remember, you'll need to take it easy today. No driving or operating machinery, and you shouldn't work. You should have mild side effects, maybe a bit of bloating. I'd suggest eating smaller meals today. You might feel some slight nausea, but if you can't keep anything down please let your doctor know immediately. But you should be okay, it's one of the reasons we give people some food after the procedure."

Nesta was nodding along, listening fairly intently, but her eyes kept darting to Cassian, who was watching her shamelessly. He didn't care what anyone thought, she was the one who just had the procedure. He could hear the nurse and keep his eyes on Nesta at the same time.

"Once you're ready to get up let me know, we'll leave the space so you can change," the nurse continued. "And then you can go into the office and wait for the doctor."

"I'm ready!" Nesta said, sitting up straighter. The nurse panicked slightly as Nesta started fidgeting with the railing on the bed, attempting to get it to go down.

"Hold on," the nurse sighed, rushing over. "Let me help you." She folded the railing down and then held out a hand for Nesta. At first, Nesta didn't accept the offer of help. But the second her feet were on the floor and she was putting weight on them, she was reaching out for that hand, for a steadying weight. "Sir, if you can wait on the other side of the curtain?"

Cassian let out a small chuckle, gaining Nesta's attention. "Sure you don't want my help, sweetheart?"

"Why don't you go warm up the car," Nesta spewed out, sounding more like a grumpy child than the ice queen she typically perfected.

"As you wish." He bowed his head slightly and then smirked over at her as her eyes narrowed at him. No doubt she was attempting to understand his meaning, to decide if the quote from one of her favorite movies was purposeful.

He was always purposeful with Nesta.

"What are you doing?" Nesta demanded as she saw Cassian turn off the car, remove his seatbelt, and open his door.

"Getting out of the car?" he said in more of a question than a statement. He shut his door again, cars flying past them faster than they should be going in her neighborhood. Philly drivers.

"Why?"

He cocked an eyebrow up at her. "To help you out and get you into your apartment."

"I'm fine Cassian. I don't need your help. I only needed the ride because it was required." And that was the truth. Nesta felt perfectly fine. Maybe a bit hazy. Enough that she could admit to herself she did need someone else driving her home, but she sure as hell wouldn't say that out loud. To Cassian.

She took off her own seatbelt as he shook his head and sighed, "Too bad, sweetheart."

Gods, he moved fast. Before Nesta could step out of the car he was already at her door, holding it open and offering a hand to her. One she certainly did not take. But damn it, she couldn't stop him from grabbing her bag out of his car before she could. He'd likely hold it hostage, force his way into her apartment just so he could annoy her all day.

"Are your keys in here?"

"Don't go through my bag!"

"I never would, Nes," he said as he closed the car door. He let out a mockingly offended scoff. "Without your permission. Though that reaction does make me more curious."

Nesta could've growled at him. Well, sadly, she couldn't, because that wasn't exactly a skill most humans had. But if she could… Perhaps her cat would. Instead, she just snatched the bag out of Cassian's hand, losing her balance for a second. But Cassian was there, a gentle hand at her arm, helping her stay upright. It had Nesta's face heating.

To keep him from seeing that, she fished her keys out of her bag and started toward the door, beginning the dance with her door. Did she get the right key for the right lock? She almost never got it right on the first try, with three identical keys used for the four locks she had to get through. Her landlord sure hadn't made it easy to access her second floor apartment in the converted townhouse.

He stopped her from closing the front door on him, making Nesta roll her eyes. "You really don't have to come in."

"I do," he disagreed. "Someone needs to make sure you get settled and are doing okay today. Make sure you drink enough water. All that."

"Cassian."

"Nesta," he countered. He held her gaze, matching her ice with the fire that was always sparkling in his eyes. Gold flakes danced in the sea of hazel, drawing her in, holding her stare captive.

She took a deep breath, steadying her mind before it danced off into the fantasies she tried to ignore. Then Nesta sighed a small, "Whatever," and turned to open the second door. She ignored the massive grin he put on at her response, already feeling the weight of the sleepiness beginning to build.

It took barely three minutes for Nesta to hang up her coat, remove her shoes, and find herself on her small sectional couch, nestling in to the chaise part. Her cat was even quicker to hop up and snuggle next to her.

Cassian was slower to make his way into the living room. After another few minutes he finally showed up, pillows from her bed in hand. "I thought you might like to have these," he explained, placing them next to Ataraxia, who started at the sudden wind rustling her silver fur.

Nesta nodded her agreement. They'd be useful if she actually decided to lie down.

Cassian walked in front of the couch and grabbed at the handle beneath the mid-section, pulling to bring out the pop-up part that turned the couch into a queen-sized bed. She lifted an eyebrow at him, making him chuckle as he said, "So you can spread out as needed. Are you comfortable? Warm enough?"

"I'm fine, Cassian," she breathed, even as she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Sure you are." He lifted her legs to get the electric blanket from under her feet and then spread it across her. "What setting do you like, again? Four?" Nesta nodded softly, the throes of sleep already setting in. She could feel her eyelids beginning to fall as Cassian clicked the blanket on and fiddled with the settings. "I'm going to do a quick grocery run for you. Anything special you want?"

"I have food," Nesta mumbled.

Cassian let out a chuckle that sent a chill up Nesta's spine. "You have snacks and an absurd amount of chocolate."

It took nearly all her remaining strength to roll her eyes, but it was worth it to display just what she thought of his comments. She was fine on food. So what if she ate take out every night? That just meant she was eating good food every night. But whatever, she was too tired to bother trying to stop Cassian. Though, if he's really here to serve her, she started to realize, she might as well milk it. "Can you get my Comfy before you go?"

The grin on Cassian's face when he handed her the plush, light purple wearable blanket was almost too much for her. The way his eyes crinkled as his lips curled upward, how they seemed to sparkle even brighter. It was the last thing Nesta needed to see. It was the first thing she wanted to see every morning. Traitorous mind.

Nesta snatched the Comfy out of his hands, but his only reply was a soft and kind, "Get some rest. I'll be back before you wake." He really needed to stop doing that.

She'd barely gotten the blanket on before sleep completely took over.

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @moodymelanist @sv0430 @nesquik-arccheron @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @imsointobooks @sayosdreams @simpingfornestaarcheron @perseusannabeth @shinya-hiiragi @a-court-of-milkandhoney @pintas3107 @embersofwildfire @superspiritfestival @thewayshedreamed @lunabean @xstarlightsupremex @mis-lil-red @wannawriteyouabook @dealfea @bridgertononmymind @daydreamer-anst @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @hiimheresworld @c-e-d-dreamer @kale-theteaqueen @charming-butt-insane @charliespringsleftconverse

a/n: Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list!

There will be a part 2 to this. This was meant to be just a one shot, but someone is bad at time management and she wanted to get something posted on the right day. XD

[leonslutkennedeeznuts]

The Wedding Date | Leon x Fem!Reader

"From the first meeting to rehearsal dinner everyone had fallen in love with him. Including you." | One-shot inspired by The Wedding Date (2005): Leon's an escort. You hire him and fall in love. (AO3)

It was an expensive, totally stupid impulsive thing to do- book a male escort as your wedding date to stick it to your ex (and nagging mother) that you weren’t a lonely, miserable spinster. You weren’t ugly or anything, just lazy with a specific plan- to rub it in your ex fiance’s face that you were 100% over him and moving on by “dating” someone way more attractive and totally smitten with you.

His name was Scott, or so he said as per his website details. He was 6 '0, clearly worked out, had dirty blonde hair in a boyband haircut and per his many reviews was a skilled lover- but that part was totally irrelevant to you. It had taken a few days to finally bite the bullet. Your career was stable, you had the money- it just made sense to go this route versus swiping on Tinder. You’d never done this before but were admittedly desperate. You needed a professional, someone that nobody in your friend group knew who could lie his way in and out of any conversations and questions they’d be sure to ask him.

He just had to look good, pretend to be in love with you, get paid and then fuck off never to be seen again when the wedding was over.

—

You’d met up with him at a bougie brunch spot on a Sunday afternoon, having chugged one mimosa with a shot of vodka before he even showed up to ease your nerves.

“This is the weirdest outcall I’ve ever been to,” he’d joked after introducing himself to you, his hands so soft and his cologne making you wet. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Scott was funny, naturally charismatic and beautiful to look at. He clearly took care of himself and didn’t seem phased by your plan at all once revealed to him.

“Alright, we need to go over the questions they’ll ask you, about us, your life, yadda yadda,” you’d instructed him. You tried your best to be assertive and not give into the butterflies flying wildly inside your stomach. “This has to be very convincing.”

You had tried to rehearse his answers with him but Scott refused while gazing at you intently. You’d definitely need new panties after this but he didn’t need to know that.

Scott had said he’d prefer to see how everything worked out before accepting payment. This plot of yours amused him greatly, he had said as much several times. Nobody had ever hired him to be arm candy until you. He planned to enjoy every second of this.

“They’ll know I’m lying, sweetheart. It’s better to just wing it. Trust me, Y/N, I won’t let you down.”

And Scott didn’t let you down. He’d passed the “test” with flying colors. From the first meeting to rehearsal dinner everyone had fallen in love with him. Including you.

—

It was late one night after having to help with decorating the church and you just wanted to relax. One bottle of wine later and you were getting a little bold and very nosy about Scott’s personal life as he gave you an exquisite foot rub.

“I didn’t make it into the police academy. I was 21 years old in a new city with nowhere to go so I started stripping. Then stripping became this.”

You gave him a reassuring smile, your hand patting his shoulder while the other held a glass of sweet burgundy wine. Scott had chosen whiskey for himself. Wine gave him bad hangovers, he’d admitted. 

“I thought about being a stripper once,” you revealed. “I almost auditioned actually but my dancing is terrible without heels so with them on I’m sure I’d break my ankles.”

Scott laughed, as if he’d imagined you in a pair of clear heels attempting to dance around a pole and failing miserably. Making him laugh made you feel warm all over.

Conversations with him came naturally, he felt like an old friend. It was none of your business, truly but he’d answered you unashamedly. A part of you wished you’d met him under different circumstances for a chance at something real.

“Why aren’t you married yet, Y/N?” 

You definitely weren’t expecting him to ask that. Your previous relationship was still a sore subject- he’d been your highschool sweetheart and first love. With a job promotion and more money, your ex had wanted to date around and see what else was out there a few months after proposing.

“One day he just decided that he didn’t want me anymore,” came your solemn answer.

You took a big gulp of wine to keep from crying. This was the guy that you thought you’d be planning your wedding with at this age. Instead you hired a male escort that you developed feelings for. C’est la vie!

“What a fucking idiot, seriously. You’re beautiful, Y/N, inside and out. A total catch,” Scott asserted. “Dude is a loser for letting you go.”

That remark made you smile, bringing a feeling of peace that washed over you from within at his words. You really enjoyed being around Scott. He was damn good at what he did: making women feel desired. Even though this was his job, it just felt natural to lean in and kiss him so you did. To your surprise Scott kissed you back quite fiercely, the taste of whiskey on his tongue almost like a poison bringing you deeper under his spell.

“Let me take care of you tonight,” he’d offered.

Scott was indeed a skilled lover. 

He lifted you up effortlessly, laying you on the bed before teasing with kisses up and down your body. You were so wet it hurt and ached. Your clothes quickly became a crumpled up heap on the floor while he stayed fully clothed sans a shirt.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby.”

He never stopped touching or tasting you that night, making sure that you came hard on his face and with his fingers, refusing to let you return the favor. You rode his tongue to completion, let him flip you onto your back and bucked into his mouth almost crying at how good he made you feel.

“You taste so good, Y/N.”

Your ex had been selfish in bed, all about receiving and barely giving. You thought you’d had an orgasm before but now you knew better. Scott made you cum almost violently, begging, writhing and almost screaming every time he sucked your clit or filled you up with two or three fingers.

“Can eat you out all fucking night.”

You had to push his head away before he finally stopped, looking so pleased with his work as you watched him through heavily lidded eyes. He kissed you one last time, the taste of yourself on his tongue giving a sense of pride. This gorgeous man had dined on you like he’d never get enough, licking and eating your cum like it was a delicacy. You wanted to taste him too, to look into his eyes as he slid into you and fucked you so deep and hard that your headboard banged against the wall.

But instead, he cuddled you until sleep finally took over. 

—

Scott wasn’t there when you awoke the next morning.

You awoke in a panic, your head pounding as the events of last night started to replay in your head. Wine. Scott. Orgasms. Your thighs were sore.

“Shit,” you exclaimed. The wedding. Your wedding date. Scott. Was he going to show up now? Would it be too awkward? Was it all just a wine induced episode of lucid dreaming?

You hurriedly got out of bed and took a shower. The envelope with his payment was still in your dresser. Did he even know it was there? You tried to focus on everything but Scott on your drive to the venue, going through the motions of getting dressed and sitting still for makeup.

When it was time to walk down the aisle with your ex-fiance as part of the wedding processional, your eyes glanced around nervously looking for any signs of a GQ model with dirty blond hair sitting in the pews as you tried not to fumble with your bouquet too much.

This was the church you had always wanted to be married in. You had thought that your ex fiance was the one but now you knew otherwise. Walking down the aisle with him, even in this context, made you feel uneasy like you were cheating. You almost didn't see Scott giving you a thumbs up and blowing you a kiss when you finally stood with the other bridesmaids. It was embarrassing how your mood instantly lifted.

Everything was going to be okay. You'd convinced everyone that this was so real, you'd even convinced yourself. Once the wedding was over Scott would go back to his life and so would you. It was a painful thought.

It wasn’t until the wedding reception that you spotted him again. He was standing off to himself while most of the single ladies and a few men crowded the dance floor for the bouquet toss. His tuxedo fit perfectly and now that you knew how he looked shirtless, a part of you wanted to rip it right off.

You caught the bouquet purely by accident, not even paying attention until a blur of pink roses came into your peripheral. Scott’s eyes never left yours as he walked towards you, cool as a cucumber like on the day you met.

He leaned in to kiss you so intensely that your knees buckled. You heard your mom cheering the loudest. Your ex stormed off in a huff, clearly regretting his choice to let you go- convinced that this man kissing you was your new forever and not a paid actor. Scott had done his job perfectly, too perfectly. You tried not to look so crestfallen when the kiss ended.

—

The walk back to your car seemed to take forever, so much you wanted to say, so much was going unsaid but didn’t want to come across as that one creepy client who took things too far.

“Definitely a 5 star experience,” you stated honestly yet awkwardly avoiding his gaze, wanting to make light of it all. “I really can’t thank you enough Sco-”

“Leon,” he cut you off. “My real name is Leon.”

The tension in the air was thick. Was his name really Leon or was this another part of the act? Your mother was now convinced that Scott, well, Leon would propose someday. How were you going to explain that everything was all a lie?

Should you address the kiss, the amazing oral sex and show vulnerability? Or hand over the cash and move on? You just wanted a nice clean break, no more emotions to overly complicate things. He did his job, nothing more nothing less. It would hurt more to be rejected than to wonder what if.

“I can’t thank you enough, Leon.” You looked a little too long at his lips, wanting and wishing you had the courage to just lean in and close the gap between you two again and again.

Instead, you handed him the bouquet of flowers so you could reach into your clutch for his payment.

“You can count it now if you’d like. It’s all there, I promise.”

Leon tensed. His face which usually sported a knowing smirk or stoic expression now looked confused, almost disgusted. He didn’t reach out to take the envelope.

“Leon, you did exactly what I asked you for. Of course I’m paying you plus tip,” you said trying to sound calm yet internally freaking out. “Thank you for this.”

Thank you for eating me out so well that no other man will ever compare, you thought.

You were ready to drive home and cry into your pillows about what a mess you’d made- falling in love with your hired boyfriend who probably always had clients obsessed with him and unable to distinguish reality from fantasy.

“I don’t want your money, Y/N. I want you.” Leon took your envelope with his free hand and placed it back into your clutch. “God, that was cornier than it sounded in my head.”

Your mouth opened but nothing came out.

Confusion painted your face. Realization hit you afterwards but before you could think of what to say in response, his lips were on yours. The bouquet was forgotten on the ground as you let Leon take you into his arms, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

“Y/N, this has been real for me no matter how hard I tried to fight it. I love you.”

You felt like you were floating, the world beyond Leon in this moment failing to exist. 

"I love you, too. So much," you proclaimed proudly.

Leon slowly pulled away from you, his eyes taking you in. “I don’t do this, I don’t date or get too close but you, you’ve awakened something inside of me that I can’t live without.”

His hands gripped your ass and you felt the promise of more, thick hard and straining against his slacks. “And you have the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted,” he quipped.

With a laugh you gave his bulge a light squeeze, ready to finally consummate your relationship with the gorgeous man standing before you.

---

With each deep, slow, tortutous thrust you were crying out his name, his real name, over and over. Pathetically begging and pleading for Leon to fuck you harder. You'd never felt like this before, your body on fire with lust and greedy for more, more, more.

"Look at you, taking me so well like this," he whispered into your ear as you tightened and throbbed around his length. "Love you so much, so fucking much."

You were sucking him in to the hilt, nails digging into his back and biceps as you took every inch coating it in your slick.

"Fuck, Leon, love you too," you grunted out almost painfully. "Gonna cum, oh!"

Leon loosened the grip on your throat, kissing you lazily as you cried out his name cumming hard around him while he never stopped pounding into your tight, hungry cunt.

"There you go, baby, cum all over me." He ground his pelvis into you wanting to feel all your cum gushing out against him. "Wanna cum inside you, fuck!"

It was almost a whisper but you'd heard it and God, you wanted him to. Wanted him to fill you up so deeply that you'd feel it slipping out throughout the day.

"Yes, please cum inside, need it, Leon."

He looked into your glazed over eyes smirking at your blissful face knowing only he could make you feel this good, only he had taken the time to learn your body and make you cum with your whole body shaking and jerking against his.

With a few more hard, short thrusts Leon's hot cum started to fill you up. You instinctly wrapped your legs around his waist pushing him in even deeper, his balls throbbing against you as he emptied himself into your eager pussy.

"Mmm, are you ready for round three," he inquired against your sweated out hair.

He took you from behind, from the side, with you on top and even picked you up and fucked you hard and fast in his arms as you cried out your release.

The man's stamina was unmatched. You were a sweaty tangled mess of limbs not knowing where his body began and your body ended when he was finally done with you.

---

You quickly settled into domestic life quite easily. Leon moved in with you while mulling over his career options now that being a boyfriend for hire was over.

Leon had made you dinner to celebrate your recent promotion, your favorite meal of filet mignon and lobster tail. He'd mentioned in passing that he was letting the website domain expire soon to pursue his other dream: being a scuba diving instructor.

"Scott's Scuba School sounds good, right?"

You nodded, considering how often he went down on you without needing to come up for air. Yeah, he'd be an amazing scuba diver. Although using his previous alias gave you some pause. What if one of his past lovers recognized him and wanted more? Silly little insecure thoughts like that were becoming less usual as time went on.

If you'd thought Leon was an amazing hired boyfriend, he was even better without the promise of money. He refused to let you pay for anything or want for nothing. From having roses delivered to your office to cooking you dinner, planning out romantic date nights to making love to you until you begged him to stop. He was perfect and he was all yours.

"Best wedding date ever," Leon read aloud to himself, seeing the new notification popping up on his previous work phone. "So good you'll think he's really in love with you."

He shot you a knowing glance before giving you a slow lingering kiss. With the simple tap, his website and review page were deleted and his new, real life with you could truly begin.

[vithir]

Jegulus backstageroom

In which Regulus is at James, Sirius, Mary, Marlene and Peters concert to support Dorlen's relationship, but it becomes clear he's also drawn by a deeper reason: watching James Potter perform.

James and Regulus "first real meeting" in Bright Water chapter 8 on AO3 by AstronomyAddict

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

Regulus was still feeling the aftermath of the concert when Dorcas began to pull him toward the small backstage area along with Barty, Evan, and Pandora. She had made it very clear that he didn't need to come along. He had told her that he would do it for her and Marlene. That hadn't been the whole truth. For it wasn't just about supporting a friend for Regulus; it was also about watching James stand on a stage and sing with all his soul. No matter how much he tried to deny it, James hadn't disappointed him. Shortly after Dorcas had told them all about Marlene, Evan realized that they had gone to school with her. It irritated Regulus that he hadn't noticed it when he saw the name Marlene McKinnon. She had been a year ahead of them and had been one of Sirius’s friends. So, of the four of them (Barty, Pandora, Evan, and Regulus), it should have been Regulus who noticed it. After all, he was the one who knew the most about Sirius’s friend group. The noise from the concert still hung in the air, and the light from the stage, seeping in through the heavy curtains, cast faint flashes of color across the room.

Marlene was leaning against the wall, still with her guitar slung loosely over her shoulder. Her blonde hair was a bit tousled after the concert, and the pink tips caught the light in a way that almost made them glow. When her eyes met Dorcas’s, they were filled with a warmth that could ignite a fire. She approached them with an enthusiasm bubbling with happiness. She smiled and wrapped an arm around Dorcas’s waist, pulling her close.

“All right, everyone,” Dorcas announced a bit nervously. Regulus didn’t like that they were making her nervous. She deserved to be happy, and she shouldn’t doubt their support. “This is Marlene! Marlene, this is Evan, Barty, Pandora, and Regulus.”

Regulus gave her an approving nod as the others issued a small chorus of “hi” and “hello.” Pandora tried to start a conversation, but it quickly fizzled out. They all stood in awkward silence. It wasn’t like Barty to be quiet like that. He usually chatted away about everything under the sun, but now he was silent. Marlene, desperate to break the silence, turned to Regulus. She stared at him with a raised chin and a challenging glint in her eye, and Regulus wasn’t quite sure how to react. But he was Regulus Black, and he had no intention of letting a simple girl take control. So he held her gaze, with a haughty expression on his face.

“You’re Dorcas’s best friend,” Marlene said. How clever she was.

“Good, now you know who will break all your bones if you break Dorcas’s heart.”

Dorcas gasped. “Reg! Don’t threaten her.”

Regulus shrugged, still fixated on Marlene. “It’s not a threat,” he replied calmly. “It’s a promise.” His voice was flat, but there was a seriousness behind the words that made Marlene’s smile falter for a moment.

However, Marlene wasn’t easily scared. Her smile quickly returned, crooked and confident. “I don’t intend to hurt her,” she said with a confidence that revealed she wasn’t a stranger to such confrontations. “But it’s good to know where we stand.”

Marlene cast a quick glance at Dorcas, seeing her relief that she wasn’t too upset by Regulus’s remark. “He seems to have your back. I like him. It’s funny to see how people react when you challenge them a bit.”

Dorcas chuckled softly and shook her head.

Marlene turned her gaze back to Regulus.

“Well, now I know you’re not easily intimidated,” she said with a smile that was both crooked and welcoming. “That’s a good start. I’m glad you’re willing to get to know me, even though I might not fit into your comfort zone.”

Regulus couldn’t help but smile a little. “So, it seems we both like a challenge. I must admit, you’re quite brave for someone who’s only just been introduced to me.”

Marlene laughed. “And you seem like someone who’s pretty good at keeping people on their toes. That must be a useful skill to have. What else do you do when you’re not standing around threatening people with broken bones?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow and thought for a moment before replying. “Well, I usually avoid having boring conversations, so I have a rule that I only engage in conversations where you can get a free trial course in stand-up comedy. It’s a good way to keep things interesting.”

Marlene laughed, and Regulus found her reaction to be a funny and refreshing contrast to his own expectations.

“I like your approach,” Marlene said with a smile. “Maybe you should consider taking your rule to the next level and start your own comedy club. I would definitely stop by.”

Regulus laughed and nodded. “Maybe I should. Or maybe I should just figure out how to avoid boring conversations with you. That could be a fun challenge.”

Marlene laughed again, and the atmosphere became lighter. It was clear that she had a knack for making people feel comfortable and relaxed, and Regulus found himself in a better mood.

Barty, who was known for his wild personality, chimed in with a crooked smile.

“So, Marlene, how was it playing in front of such a large audience? I have to admit, I’m a bit curious about what it feels like to be on stage with so much energy.”

Marlene laughed and sat down next to Barty. “It’s a very special feeling. You can almost feel the energy of the audience, and it gives you such an adrenaline rush. But it also requires a lot of preparation and focus. What about you? What do you do in your free time?”

Pandora, who had become a bit nervous over the earlier awkward silence, spoke up. “I’m a designer myself, so I spend a lot of time experimenting. Otherwise, we usually hang out together and come up with crazy things. What about you, Marlene? What do you do when you’re not on stage?”

Marlene smiled. “I love making music, but I also have a passion for painting. It’s my way of relaxing. I find it very calming to paint with Sirius, our bassist.”

Regulus froze at the sound of his brother’s name, but no one noticed, and the conversation continued.

Barty, who always had a comment ready, looked at Marlene with a gleam in his eye. 

“Painting? I like it. I imagine your paintings must be as colorful as your hair.”

Marlene laughed. “You’re right. I like to use a lot of colors and create something that really grabs people’s attention. What about you, Barty? What’s your hidden talent?”

Barty laughed. “Hidden talent? I’m actually a master at baking cookies. It’s not something you’d necessarily expect, but I make the best cookies.”

Evan, who had been listening with interest, added, “I think it would be fun to organize a baking competition one day. Barty, I think you could face some competition.”

Marlene turned to Regulus, who was still standing a little apart. There was something in her gaze that revealed… something. She met his eyes directly, without wavering, and Regulus couldn’t help but notice the warmth and humor she radiated. In his thoughts, he acknowledged her ability to stand up for herself and the energy she brought to the conversation.

“What about you, Regulus? What do you do when you’re not hanging out with your friends? I’ve heard you’re a bit of a loner.”

Regulus raised his eyebrows but let a small smile break through. “I have my own interests. It’s not always easy to find time for social gatherings.”

Marlene smiled warmly. “It sounds like you have a lot on your plate. I can understand why you might not always have time to be social. But it’s good to see you here tonight. It means something.”

Regulus’ gaze softened a bit. He appreciated that Marlene wasn’t intimidated by his reserved nature. There was something refreshing about her genuine demeanor that he found hard to resist. He could sense that her energy was something he could respect, even if he was inclined to keep his distance.

“I must admit, it’s not every day I meet someone who’s so open. It’s… refreshing.”

Marlene nodded and looked at the others. “So, now that we’ve all learned a bit about each other, what do you say we meet up with the rest of the band? It would be fun to get the whole group together and maybe grab a drink or two.”

Pandora and Evan nodded eagerly. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Pandora said. “It would be fun to get to know the band better.”

Barty clapped his hands. “Let’s do it! I’m up for a good evening.”

Regulus didn’t want to. Meeting the band meant seeing Sirius, and that was not something he was ready for. Facing Sirius face-to-face required preparation. He exchanged a knowing look with Dorcas and then said, “I’ll stay here.” He didn’t need to say more, as the others understood him. The reunion of the Black brothers was not to happen tonight, and they respected his choice. Marlene nodded understandingly. “Okay, Regulus. That’s perfectly fine. If you change your mind, you know where to find us.”

With that, Marlene and the others began to leave, while Regulus stayed behind. He watched their disappearing figures. Although he disagreed with her choice of friends—friend—he had to admit that she had a rare kind of courage and charm. Regulus took a deep breath and decided to use the time alone to reflect on how he would handle the rest of the evening. He knew that Marlene would come back to him afterward (Dorcas hadn’t asked yet, but she would as soon as they returned). Regulus settled into one of the sofas and closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. Watching James play and sing had definitely affected him. The way he sang with his soul made Regulus’s stomach churn. If only—

“Regulus!” a cheerful voice called.

His eyes flew open again.

James Fleamont Potter.

He stood in the doorway the others had disappeared through, with tousled hair and red cheeks. A big grin was plastered on his face. A ridiculously handsome face. Why did he always smile like that?

“Ah, I’ve been looking for you since the concert ended! Marlene said you were out here. I’m glad to see you.” James’s voice was filled with genuine joy, and his smile seemed like a beam of light trying to break through Regulus’s coldness.

Marlene. Maybe Regulus should reconsider if he actually liked her.

Regulus rolled his eyes and tried to appear indifferent. “I’m here to support the two,” he said coldly, making it clear that he wasn’t there to see James. “Not because I necessarily wanted to be here.”

James laughed and walked over to him with a beaming smile. “So you’re saying you’re here out of duty? You know, you could have done it in a more fun way. What if I promise to entertain you instead?” He sat down next to Regulus on the sofa and leaned in a bit closer, so Regulus couldn’t help but feel the warmth of his presence.

Regulus looked at James with a skeptical gaze. “And how do you plan to do that? Tell jokes or something like that?”

James shook his head. “Oh, I don’t necessarily have a plan, but I’ve always had a knack for coming up with something that makes people smile. Or laugh. Or both.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow and leaned back on the sofa. “So, is that your way of being charming? I must admit, I’m a bit disappointed. I was expecting something more than just words.”

James’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned forward. “Call it a challenge, then. If I can’t make you smile, I’ll buy you a drink next time we meet.”

Regulus looked at James with a mix of suspicion and irritation. He wanted 100% James far, far away. “And what if I’m not interested in being entertained?”

James laughed and looked at Regulus with a flirtatious gaze. “Then maybe it’s time you figure out why you’re even here. Is it really just for Dorcas and Marlene, or is there something more?”

A wave of panic hit Regulus. Dorcas hadn’t figured him out, so why did James? Why was James even talking to him? Regulus hadn’t been in contact with his brother for a year, and the same went for James. He had watched a few of their concerts, but he hadn’t spoken to James in three years. Regulus tried to remain cold and sarcastic. “Maybe you should stop psychoanalyzing me. I’m here because I chose to be. I don’t need your speculation.”

James seemed to find Regulus’s reaction entertaining. “You can be as ice-cold as you want, but I have a feeling you actually enjoy the company.” He laughed smoothly and looked Regulus in the eyes. His chocolate-brown eyes stared directly into Regulus’s soul. Beyond the coldness, beyond the facade, beyond the hatred. He saw right through it all.

Regulus felt his face grow warm, and he could feel a heat spreading to his cheeks and down his neck. The red color was obvious against his pale skin. Regulus tried to hide his reaction, but James’s smile only grew wider.

“What are you smiling about?” Regulus said sharply, trying to compose himself.

James’s smile became even more flirtatious. “You actually look pretty cute when you’re embarrassed. I think I’ve hit a nerve.”

Regulus seriously needed to pull himself together! He couldn’t continue like this. James was just a silly boy trying to tease him. He had probably arranged this with Sirius.

Yay, should we tease my little brother now that he’s here?

Yeah, Pads, that sounds like a brilliant idea!

Regulus could clearly see the scenario in his mind, and just the thought made him angry. Who did James think he was? He might be attractive (and Regulus had had a few breakdowns over his godliness), but that didn’t mean he could get away with whatever this was about.

“Fuck off, Potter!” Regulus snarled in a tone most wouldn’t dare to defy.

James hummed a cheerful, bright tone. “I think I’ll stay here. I’m enjoying the company, at least.”

Regulus needed to get out of here. Immediately. He quickly stood up from the sofa and felt the strong absence of James’s warmth. He had the same body temperature as a radiator.

“I don’t think I have anything else to say right now.” He began to walk toward the door as James’s laughter filled the room, and Regulus couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed by his reaction. James’s charming nature had struck something he wasn’t quite ready to confront.

As Regulus left the room, he could hear James shout after him, “I’ll see you later, Regulus! And watch out, I’ll be looking for your next reaction!”

[schrijverr]

Slipped Their Minds

After a few years working alongside the Justice League, Batman decides that it will be safe to let his kids tie themselves back to him. The only thing is, that since Nightwing is already part of the League, they forget to mention that he is also part of the Bat associates. They only remember when they are surrounded by other members, who loose their shit at the fact that Batman is Nigthwing’s dad.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

When the Justice League forms, most heroes have been around for a few years already. Superman has been flying over the skies of Metropolis for four years, the Flash has been zooming around Central for three and the Green Lantern got his assignment a year and a half ago. While Wonder Woman, J’onn J’onzz and Cyborg are more recent additions.

The only exception to this rule is Batman, who has already been doing this for around fifteen years already, though no one knows for sure when he started. And he has never been very forthcoming with the information either.

Now it’s two years later and the Justice League is looking to expand. The hero community has grown since their start and they want to pad their numbers and increase their reach, so that they can make more of a difference.

One of the new members they recruit, is Nightwing.

Nightwing does not seem like the most interesting new recruit, since he is a human surrounded by people that can absorb nukes or kings of the seas. However, Nightwing piqued their interest, because rumors of him go way back.

Upon meeting the man, they realize this kid has been in the business for a long time, first popping onto the scene about eight years ago. Bar Batman, he’s been doing this the longest.

“Man, how come I never heard of you until recently?” Flash exclaims. He and Nightwing have hit it off right away. “You’ve been doing this for so long, rumors must have started to seep out at some point.”

“Nah, I wasn’t really considered a hero until like a year or so ago,” Nightwing shrugs easily, leaning back in the other monitor chair. “For the first two years, I was a rumor made up by criminals, then I was a good for nothing, punk vigilante that was on the wanted list for the next three years. By then you guys got onto the scene and heroes truly became a topic in a positive way, so they became a little more open to my meddling. Though they still don’t trust me entirely. Now we’re here.”

“Wait, they still don’t trust you?” Flash asks.

“No, course not, it’s Blüd,” Nightwing laughs as if that’s funny. “You can’t trust anyone there. It’s a shithole of a shithole. I’m not a hero, Flash, I’m a vigilante. Huge difference.”

“Ugh, you sound like Batman,” Flash complains. “Wait, aren’t Blüdhaven and Gotham like super close to each other?”

“Yeah, why do you think it’s such a shithole?” Nightwing jokes, though everyone has already learned the hard way that he’s the only one, who can joke about his city like that. They’re pretty sure Aquaman still feels the bruise. For a human, he sure can pack a punch.

“Did you two work together? Before the League? Or, like, even before heroes?” Flash asks, rapid speed as his excitement grows.

“Our cases overlapped sometimes,” Dick says, deciding it’s not technically a lie, because Nightwing didn’t want Batman nosing around in his city until recently and Robin doesn’t really count. “We knew of each other, shared information sometimes.”

“Wow, I can’t imagine what baby Batman must have been like,” Flash says, a little awed.

“Probably a lot stupider than we think,” Dick snorts, still remembering when Bruce took him in only two years after he himself had started running around in kevlar.

Right now, he’s kind of sad that he made Bruce promise to let him be in the League on his own, because otherwise he could share some embarrassing stories with Flash – or Wally, the man’s secret identity wasn’t too hard to figure out – but he can’t do that without revealing Robin and that can’t happen.

Robin is still an unconfirmed rumor. There are a lot of reports about him, but the switches in Robins that have been going on made them all so widely different that no one trusts them. And no pictures have been leaked. Babs is very good at what she does.

Out of the Gotham’s vigilante population, Robin is the only known one in the streets and under the rogues in Arkham. All the other birds and bats – save Signal, the stubborn day shift – are pretty unknown and Batman likes to keep it that way.

He and Cass, Jason too technically, are the only ones, who are proper adults now and the world has changed drastically from when they were kids.

Dick might frown on B’s paranoia most of the time, but it’s no longer just the creeps in Arkham they have to worry about. It’s the anti-hero mentality that is popping up alongside the support, the people with grudges on a larger scale that are trying to find weak spots to get back at heroes that stopped them or couldn’t save them, magic that could control their allies and turn them against them, along with all the ones they love.

The world isn’t safe and anonymity makes his baby siblings a little better protected.

Of course, he’s not going to sit there and say the world was safe when he ran around in short shorts and bright colors. The fact that he was out there in the first place spoke to that. However, it seems like the world was at least smaller then, the harms more manageable. Vigilantes less known, with smaller targets on their backs.

So, he just laughs at the young Batman hypotheticals Wally comes up with as they continue to shoot the shit and watch over earth from high above. Almost like a rooftop, but on a much larger scale. B definitely came up with that one.

And so the Justice League evolves with the new heroes in it, while Nightwing and Batman masquerade as strangers to protect their family.

However, before Dick was Nightwing, he was Robin and it is hard to hide years of working alongside each other with only the other one as backup. Even Barbara came later. At the start, it was just them and that’s hard to forget.

Bruce tries to hide it, putting Dick on different teams, knowing he is capable of leading them, and scheduling different training days for them, as well as trying to stay out of his way as Dick establishes himself among their allies.

But avoiding each other entirely is suspicious too. Besides, it’s unavoidable sometimes. They have skill sets that compliment each other well, it’s natural that they get assigned together, especially when it’s a stealth mission.

Still, they maintain a professional distance. They’re coworkers, whose styles mesh well, but who aren’t particularly close.

And so time passes and the world changes more.

Cass is making a name for herself in Hong Kong, Jason is running around with his Outlaws, while Tim has joined the Teen Titans (under the guise that his name is merely an homage to the Robin rumors from his hometown, where he doesn’t operate) and Steph is striking out with the Birds of Prey.

Only Damian and Duke, the babies of the family, are safe in Gotham – for as far Gotham is safe. And even then, it’s really only Damian, whose existence is still rumor. Signal runs around in broad daylight, the first confirmed connection to the Bat.

A connection, they observed, that has protected him thus far. Not harmed.

Sure, they all know the risks of being a vigilante, but there is no more anonymity keeping them safe. Robin is starting to be believed in more and more, vague images floating around with increased cameras on the streets and all the others have been spotted outside of the context of Gotham. Maybe it is time.

Maybe, telling the world that these people fall under the protection of Gotham’s Legend. Of the first hero – though he doesn’t use the term himself – that ever graced the world. Of the man that is still here, no matter what life throws at him.

Maybe that will be safer than having them be lone vigilantes out in the wind, ready to be taken out by any wannabe villain trying to make their mark.

Red Hood has always worn a bat on his chest, but most considered it a mockery (as it was intended at the time). However, when more and more start to appear, people take it more seriously.

Like, Orphan, who patrols the street in her Black Bat get up that she usually dawns in Gotham, Red Robin, who introduces Robin to the Teen Titans – thus also the world – confirming his existence and tying them both to the Bat, while Steph finally takes on the mask of Batgirl full time.

It’s a perfect plan that goes off without a hitch.

Sure, there is a small explosion online as people learn how many vigilantes patrol Gotham and Gothamites start to share old tweets that were conspiracy theories at the time or their own experiences with the newly revealed vigilantes.

Within the hero community people are surprised to see just how many vigilantes Batman trained, though only Dick hears about that, since Bruce avoids the Watchtower like the plague afterwards.

Naturally, Dick reports gleefully about all the wild shit he’s heard in the halls of the Watchtower to his siblings with grandeur.

Like that first time back on the Watchtower after the reveal. Wally zooms up to him in the middle of the cafeteria area, saying: “Did you see about all the Batman children popping up everywhere?”

“Of course,” Dick snorts, because why the hell would he not have?

“Did Batman, like birth them all? What do you think?” Wally asks breathlessly, obviously it’s been eating at his mind.

Before Dick can reply, Diana interrupts: “I did not know Batman was a sculptor, gifted by the Gods.”

“What?” both Dick and Wally reply, confused.

“His children,” Diana says, her tone giving away that she thinks they should understand that. When it becomes clear they don’t, she expands: “My mother brought a lump of clay before the Gods. She shaped me and breathed life into me. I assumed Batman had done the same, is that not so?”

It’s quiet for a moment as they process what the Amazonian princess just said. Then it takes every ounce of Dick’s training to say straight faced as he explains that humans don’t reproduce that way, while Wally just fails and breaks down in laughter.

By the time Diana understands, Hal has joined them, having wandered over to find out what they hell was happening over there.

He asks: “Spooky really had a bunch of kids? Somehow I can’t imagine him with a baby, like did he have batdiapers made?”

Amused Dick thinks about the last time he saw B hold a baby. Definitely better with kids older than four. So, he shakes his head and says: “Nah, he adopted.”

“That makes sense,” Wally agrees.

“So, he just found a bunch of highly competent kids?” Hal says, not buying it. “I mean, where would he even get them?”

Dick starts laughing immediately, because this has always been his favorite joke to make. However, his laughter prevents him from speaking, so for a second he looks insane, then he gleefully chokes out: “T- the- the circus!”

Wally punches his shoulder and says: “Don’t be a dick,” with an amused voice.

Naturally that only sends Dick into a further spiral and he can’t explain, both because he’s still laughing and because he doesn’t actually want to give their secret identities away. They’ve luckily changed topics by the time he’s gotten himself under control.

All in all, it is a win for once. No organization breaks out of the shadows to target them all and the hero community doesn’t suddenly turn against them. The only thing they forget, is that they never mentioned that Nightwing is also a Bat associate.

Dick has always tried to make Nigthwing outside of his association with the Batman, moving to a city and picking a theme and name far from Batman’s influence.

Bruce has learned over the course of many fights to respect that. And he values his relationship with his son enough that he does, especially when being protective – a thing all of them have at some point referred to as being overbearing.

So, when they’re talking about tying everyone to the Batman, they don’t think to make a plan for Nightwing too. Dick is a Bruce’s son and he’ll always help when Gotham needs it, but Nightwing is Blüdhaven’s vigilante, helping the Bat, but standing on his own.

Besides, he is a part of the Justice League like Batman is, they already know him. He doesn’t need to be revealed to them, he is them.

It’s a silly mistake. More an oversight than a mistake, really. And the good news, is that it doesn’t matter that much. The bad news, is that they don’t realize they’ve made the oversight until they’re in the Watchtower and it’s too late.

Bruce has finally decided everything died down enough that he can show his face again without being overrun. However, as an extra buffer, he has assigned himself monitor duty with Dick.

Sadly, Dick is a more social person than Bruce and he regularly shows up a little early so he can chat with whoever is there, before settling down at the monitors. So, if he wants to use Dick as a human shield – Bruce prefers social interaction lighting rod – then he’ll have to act now, use Dick as a distraction so he can sneak to the observation deck.

So, he travels with Dick to the Watchtower, the two of them appearing together as they discuss the latest drug smuggling case Dick has been working on. It’s been keeping him busy, so he hasn’t been on the Watchtower in a bit.

When they get to the cafeteria area where most heroes gather, Bruce stays half a step behind Dick, hoping one of his friends will spot him and he can make his escape. However, instead it seems like a few have stayed behind when they saw Batman was on duty just to talk to him.

“Batman,” Diana greets with a smile, coming his way as more people spot him. Curse you, Diana, for being earnest and nice enough that Bruce would feel bad disappearing on her.

“Wonder Woman,” he replies. Then he adds: “Flash,” because the man has come their way as well.

“Heya, Bats, Nightwing,” Wally greets. “Surprised to see you up here, finally decided that you couldn’t hide out in your cave forever? Or did the kids push you?”

Dick snorts at that and Bruce sends him a glare, not reacting. Clark is making his way over as well and he is not looking forward to that. No use in already embarrassing himself.

Clark reaches them, right as Diana smiles: “Yes, your children, Batman. I wanted to congratulate you on the fine warriors you’ve raised. Green Lantern showed me videos of their valor in battle, you must be very proud.”

“Hn,” Bruce grunts. Obviously he is proud of his kids, but he barely knows how to tell them that, he doesn’t know how to even begin this conversation.

“Come on, Batman,” Clark joins the conversation. “You can’t be quiet about them forever. We want to know about them, about you. They all popped up at the same time, it had to be coordinated, knowing you.”

“Yeah, man, brag a little,” Wally both teases and encourages.

Bruce only feels cornered now. He loves his kids and as Brucie he has no trouble bragging about them, knowing what to say and meaning every words of it.

He wants to tell them about Damian’s last art exhibit, how well Tim has been dealing with his vigilante life and the company, how well Steph has been doing in her classes and how much good Jason and Cass have been doing out on their own. He wants to tell them about how well Duke has been settling in at the Manor and in the family, how much Barbara has been helping the community from the library and how Dick has been making such a difference in Blüdhaven.

However, immediately, he shuts all those thoughts down. He made their connections known to protect them and every detail he gives away to these people, can only put them in danger again.

Of course he is also proud of their vigilantism, but talking about that, might show weaknesses, things they had to grow in. And that is also dangerous. Having them be mysteries is how he has always protected them, he doesn’t know how to be proud without the possibility of hurting them hanging over his head.

Fortunately, Dick doesn’t leave him hanging and serves as the social interaction lighting rod, Bruce hoped he’d be.

After a beat, Dick smiles widely and slings and arm around Bruce. He pulls him closer as he easily says: “Don’t worry about his grumpy exterior. That was his proud grunt. You learn to understand him. Right, B?” then he tugs on the cowl ear, something he has always done.

Bruce lets a small smile slip at that, because unlike what some people think, he does try to be a person sometimes. Like, Dick. Dick knows, which is why he squeezes his shoulder for a moment, a quiet support.

The moment is broken by the three around them, loudly wondering different things: “B?” “Since when are you so buddy-buddy?” “I did not know you were so close.”

Both startle back at the sudden explosion of noise, then look confused at the three heroes, aware of the eyes of everyone suddenly on them, before looking back at each other.

“What do you mean, B is my-” Dick starts, before suddenly realizing something. He turns to Bruce with wide eyes as he says: “Oh my god, we totally forgot to mention that you’re my dad too.”

“Hn,” Bruce says again, hating when it is shown that he���s not infallible, but human. Very human compared to the supers they surround them with.

Around them, it seems like everyone has fallen silent for a second. Busy comprehending. Then there is a repeat of before, with everyone falling over themselves to ask questions. They do so loudly and overlapping with each other, years of press conferences has taught both to stay quiet until they’ve sorted themselves out.

As expected, everyone quiet down after a bit when there are no immediate answers forthcoming. A reporter at heart, Clark pounces in the silence: “We never found any ties between Nightwing and Batman, not even going years back. How did you hide that?”

Dick laughs a little sheepishly: “I was going through my rebellious phase when I first started out, I didn’t want any of B’s interference when setting out on my own.”

“Wait, but if you didn’t start out together, then how did you get good? Did you get a vigilante starter kit or something?” Hal asks, coming over and dropping any pretenses that he hadn’t been eavesdropping.

“No, course not,” Dick snorts. “I was the first Robin. Got all my training before I even started with Nigthwing. B here had already taught me everything he knew.”

“Hn,” Bruce interjects.

“Well, practically everything,” Dick amends. “But I also learned stuff from some other people that he doesn’t know. So, same difference in the end.”

“Haven’t you been Nightwing for the past eight years, dude?” Wally asks, confused.

“Yeah? So?” Dick replies, because he has. He doesn’t know what that has to do with the conversation.

“How freaking old are you then?” Wally exclaims.

“I’m twenty-six,” Dick says.

Clark looks between them, then asks Bruce: “May I know how old you are then? Should you still be doing this?”

Bruce glares at him and says: “I’m thirty-eight, Superman. Not ancient.”

“Wait, thirty-eight? That’s only twelve years apart,” Wally quickly calculates.

“That is way too young to have a kid, Bats,” Hal whistles, a bit disturbed.

“I didn’t become his father when I was twelve, Lantern,” Bruce grouches, already dreading the next two hours that he’s going to be stuck here.

“Oh, yeah, adoption,” Hal says apologetically, cringing slightly at himself.

“Is that too young?” Diana asks, innocently.

“Yes, way too young,” Bruce grits, before anyone else can answer her.

“Uh-huh,” Dick nods. Then he suddenly says: “Twelve years. I never thought of it like that. Are we really that little apart? You seem so old in my memories, but that’s even less than me and Little D.”

“Well, I imagine perception warps things,” Bruce says. “A twenty-one year old must seem like quite the adult when you’re nine.”

“I suppose.”

“Okay, so you were adopted when you were nine?” Wally says. “When did you start being Robin. I know the current one is like twelve or some shit, but nine is way too young to be running around fighting crime.”

Neither Dick nor Bruce respond to that, both giving each other a glance. Their lack of response tells everyone there enough.

“What the Hell, Batman – pardon my French,” Clark exclaims. “A lot of us have sidekicks, but to start training someone that young. And without precedence?”

“To send a child onto the battlefield is frowned upon,” Diana agrees, more echoing her disapproving look.

Again, Bruce feels cornered. He has never been comfortable with his kids putting themselves in danger. G-d, knows he isn’t, especially after Jason.

However, if he hadn’t equipped them and trained them, they would have been out there anyway and that would have been way more dangerous. But to explain that, feels like giving excuses, when he knows it isn’t a great thing to be doing.

Dick steps in again, diffusing by saying: “Hey, hey, lay off him for a bit. It’s not like he had much of a say in it. If I hadn’t become Robin, I would’ve committed murder at nine and spend the rest of my days in juvie.”

Record scratch. Pause.

Another silence.

Another explosion.

The loudest among them is Wally, who is arguably Nightwing’s best friend and thought he knew the guy pretty well before this, exclaiming: “What the hell, man.”

This time, it is Bruce, who steps in for Dick. He says: “We have all been in dark places and bad stuff has happened to all of us. Let’s not judge a kid, who just suffered a loss. It was a temporary anger, you’ve all seen the kind of hero he is, the type of man he has become.”

A beat of silence passes, before Dick jokes: “See, told you that was his proud grunt,” though Bruce can hear the layer of emotion he attempts to hide with it.

Luckily the others drop it too, letting the moment pass. Wally just says: “Damn, just when I think I’m getting to know you, you’re just another mystery.”

“I’m like an onion,” Dick smiles. “Layers.”

Wally groans as Hal says: “Really? Shrek?” which launches them into a discussion about the movie and its merits.

Meanwhile, Bruce is getting pinned by Diana and Clark, they gazes preventing him from walking away.

“You didn’t say anything about being related to Nightwing when he was voted in,” Clark comments.

“I voted for him,” Bruce replies.

“You know that is not the same, Batman,” Diana says kindly.

“Nightwing is his own vigilante,” Bruce says. “He has worked hard to come out from my shadow. I trust him to make it on his own. My vote was based on his work, just like it always will be. It’s not like I didn’t vote for anyone else.”

“Hm, maybe,” Clark agrees. “But you’re keeping secrets.”

“I always have,” Bruce shoots right back.

“About your identity, we can respect that, but Clark is right,” Diana says. “This isn’t just your private life, this also impacts us. Your other kids aren’t in the League, but Nightwing works with us. We would have liked to know. Can you imagine if we learned about it, because something happened to you out there? Or vise versa?”

Bruce doesn’t like to think about anything happening to Dick, but he can imagine the reverse wouldn’t have been very pretty. “Hn.”

Clark says: “You’re allowed to keep secrets, Batman, we won’t force you. But haven’t we proven ourselves to be your friends? You can let us in. Keep us in the loop.”

Precisely because they are his friends, they can become a danger. People close to him are the ones that will be used to target him, he can’t just risk his kids like that. However, he doesn’t think having that conversation will help, so he says nothing once more.

Diana sighs at that, a bit defeated, making a little bit of guilt churn in his gut (though not enough to risk giving anything away).

Clark asks: “At least tell us if you’re hiding another kid somewhere.”

“I will,” he says, because it is the least he can do. Though he mentally adds the caveat; if it is relevant for the job. He tries to ignore the stab in his heart when Clark and Diana give him a big grin in response.

Before he can give it further thought, the conversation is interrupted by Dick, who calls out: “Get a move on, B. We still have monitor duty.”

He is smiling, surrounded by his friends. Friends he made on his own. He looks happy. Confident. A good young man. One that stands on his own, yet knows he’s not by himself. Bruce can’t find it in him to feel guilty about giving Dick the space to become that person. Not when they both had to grow as people to get there.

They were the first two costumed vigilantes the world knew, even if they haunted the shadows for most of their time as a duo. The two of them are older than heroes. Older than the League. They have enough experience to asses the risks themselves.

Besides, Bruce can privately admit that everyone’s reactions have been kind of funny. He’s sure Dick and his other kids agree. If he knows them well enough, they’re probably watching on a feed Barbara pulled up, laughing at them and gathering more blackmail. Maybe he’ll do it all again, if he ever adopts another kid.

Though, he doesn’t let any of that show, just keeping his face neutral as he goes to join Dick for their monitor duty.

He hears Hal whisper: “Teach me how you got away with saying that,” and knows it’s going to be a long two hours.

~~

A/N:

I know the timeline doesn’t make sense, especially with Nightwing as a name, but my fic my rules. This is more to be funny than to actually have a conversation with canon xp

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 8/34 - fish and chips

[Read on AO3]

“So, can I buy my wife some dinner?” Mulder asks. His hands are shoved deep in his coat pockets now as they descend the steps of the courthouse, fighting back against the chill in the air. The tie comes untied practically as soon as they walk out the door, hanging listlessly around his neck.

Scully looks over at him, the word ‘wife’ somehow sounding different coming out of his mouth now that they’re outside in the real world. It does something funny to her heart.

“What do you have in mind?” she asks, maintaining her calm composure.

They’ve eaten together countless times before, in cities and towns all across the United States. On occasion, Mulder would even pick up the check, when he was feeling particularly chivalric. But this feels different. Not overtly so, but just enough to be noticeable.

They eventually settle on walking down by the harbor, where a few vendors are selling food to tourists visiting for the holidays. With a greasy basket of fish and chips each in hand, they continue walking until they hit the end of the pier, claiming for themselves a wooden bench overlooking the water.

“Some day, huh?” Mulder remarks, slathering a fry in ketchup before putting it in his mouth.

He’s a master of understatement, her partner. He would describe almost dying as a “minor injury” if she wasn’t there to give him the unwavering doctor stare. But his wry humor is one of the things she loves most about him. Among other things.

“No turning back now,” she comments, nudging his side with her shoulder. “You regret tying yourself down yet?”

He looks at her at that, his expression one of disbelief. “Never,” he answers. “You?”

“No, Mulder. I– I’m more grateful for this than you can imagine.”

His lips pull back in that easy smile she doesn’t get to see often enough, and he relaxes back against the bench. The wind coming in from the harbor is brisk, occasionally bringing a spray of mist with it. It makes his hair stick up in adorable little spikes, and she just wants to run her hands through it and smooth it down.

They’re the only ones crazy enough to be all the way out here for longer than the time it takes a tourist to snap a quick picture. The temperature is dropping quickly as nightfall approaches, and it wasn’t all that temperate to begin with, it being so close to January. Somehow, Scully still feels perfectly warm.

“So, why did you really want to get married on Christmas?” Mulder asks, after a few minutes more spent contemplating the darkening horizon.

He’s looking at her now, one arm draped casually over the back of the bench, now that he’s finished eating.

“I guess I just liked the idea of having something to remember this holiday for other than bad memories,” Scully answers, thoughts of her father and Emily filling her head. “And…”

“What?”

She pauses, wondering if she should share this somewhat embarrassing, personal detail with him. One look in his eyes and she feels her tongue loosening, and suddenly she wants to share everything with this man.

“Well, I always used to imagine a December wedding when I was a little girl,” she admits, preparing herself for the teasing she’s come to expect from her partner. 

She and Missy had loved cutting pictures out of magazines and putting them in binders, concocting the perfect futures for themselves. Over the years, the specific details of her imaginings changed as her taste did, but one thing remained the same. A winter wedding, maybe with snow. Evergreen branches and little white and red berries adorning the bouquet. Lace sleeves on an elaborate wedding dress, its long train dragging behind her in a beautiful cathedral.

Missy was the complete opposite, filling her book instead with pictures of hot summer weather and wedding dresses that were just a little too revealing. 

It’s been a long time since she’s thought of those binders, maybe still collecting dust somewhere in Maggie Scully’s house.

Mulder’s knee tilts toward hers, knocking against it affectionately. “Sorry it wasn’t quite the majestic fantasy wedding of little Dana Katherine Scully's dreams,” he says, giving that shy, apologetic half-smile she knows so well.

“I don't know…” she shrugs. “It wasn't too far off.”

He shakes his head, breathing a humorless laugh through his nose. “You don't have to lie to make me feel better,” he says.

“No, really,” she starts, turning toward him. “It– Maybe it wasn't in a big cathedral with lots of flowers and people there, but…” She looks into his eyes and then quickly glances away, hiding a blush. “Well, in a way, I married my knight in shining armor, didn’t I?”

She chances another look at him, and he’s smiling a big cheesy smile. Great, she inflated his ego.

“Oh yeah? And what armor would that be?” he asks, laughter in his voice.

She rolls her eyes. “A parka not quite warm enough for Antarctica and two layers of pants,” she answers dryly.

He tosses his head back, looking heavenward for a second and smiles. “Ah, don't forget my valiant steed: the Sno-Cat Model 2000.”

“Valiant,” she agrees, “but not the most dependable.”

As time passes, the sky fades into an inky dark blue. The harbor sparkles with the lights of countless boats, some far out on the horizon. 

It’s funny. Sometimes when she looks out there, she can almost believe her father is on one of those boats, just waiting to come back to shore. She’d always thought Ahab would be there with her on her wedding day, smiling and proud of her and walking her down the aisle. 

Now, she sort of feels like he was.

She looks over at the man next to her, contemplative as he usually is when he has nothing to say. Her father would have liked him, she thinks. Well, eventually. She has to think he would respect Mulder’s drive, and the way he cares for her. Maybe it’s foolish and idealistic, but the alternative, she doesn’t even want to consider. She’s said before that they are alike—devoted entirely to their cause. The important thing is that she’s happy, and their unconventional partnership works for them.

Nobody else’s opinion matters, only theirs. That’s the biggest lesson she’s learned in her time with Mulder.

On the way back to their car, he hands a couple dollars over to a vendor and procures two steaming cups of hot chocolate, citing that the unpleasant memory of the bone-deep chill they experienced in Antarctica was making him cold. When Scully brings the warm liquid to her lips, she catches sight again of the sparkling ring on her finger, and she stops to admire it.

“If you don’t like that one, we can trade it in,” Mulder says, taking a sip of his cocoa and watching her expectantly over the lid of his cup.

“It’s perfect, Mulder,” she says, hopefully putting any worries he might have to rest. “You didn’t have to… Just a simple wedding band would have been fine.”

He shrugs noncommittally, bouncing restlessly in place to keep warm, or maybe out of discomfort with this particular conversation. It’s a nervous tic she’s come to love, unless she’s extremely overtired, in which case it gets on her nerves quick.

“I figured it would be good to have them for interviews and stuff,” he adds, glancing around. “I mean, obviously we can’t wear them all the time, but—”

“Oh,” Scully says. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

She can only imagine what the rumor mill at the Hoover building would say, if they waltzed in one day wearing matching rings. Only this time, there’d be some undeniable truth to the claims.

“Not that…I don’t want to wear it, Scully,” Mulder assures her, absentmindedly twisting his own ring with his thumb. “It’s just—”

“Yeah.”

It’s a shame, in all honesty. She likes the weight of it on her finger. It feels right, somehow. And she likes the sight of him with his on, too. It’s a tangible thing, something to remind her that he’s made a commitment to her. 

She can’t help but think that if, God forbid, another Diana ever arose, that ring would provide an assurance that would get her through it without the emotional distress she experienced the first time around. A token that validates the possessiveness she feels, warranted or not.

Mulder shifts his cup of hot chocolate from one hand to the other and digs in his pocket again. “I did pick these up, too,” he says, pulling out two long, silver chains and depositing one in her hand, “if you want to keep it somewhere safe when you’re not wearing it.”

For some reason, the fact that he’d thought of this ahead of time makes her throat clog up and her eyes sting with tears. He’s always been a bit of an odd gift-giver, bestowing her with bizarre little trinkets that either mean nothing or everything, and it's never easy to tell which. But this… It’s hard to picture him standing in a jewelry store, contemplating her taste in jewelry and the practicality of wearing it in their situation. 

How much money had he spent on it? Did he worry he was being presumptive? Had it taken five minutes or five hours to make his decision? These are questions she never thought she’d be asking herself, and it’s just proof of how crazy her life has turned out.

She wonders if he’ll take his ring off now and slide it onto his necklace, but instead he places the chain back in his pocket, a choice that seems heavy with perceived meaning. She follows his lead, tucking hers away for the time being as they continue their walk. 

Later. For now, she can enjoy the way it sparkles when the Christmas lights all around them catch it just right.

“Hey, Scully?” he says, glancing down at her beside him while they wait for the crosswalk to tell them to cross.

She looks up at him, his earnest expression setting off the butterflies in her stomach.

“I’m glad you said yes,” he finishes.

She smiles wistfully, looping her arm into his and leaning against his shoulder.

“Me too,” she agrees.

-.-.-

Bill is waiting up for them when they get back to Maggie Scully’s house well after it has gotten dark. The original plan had been to go their separate ways after their “errand” at the courthouse, but time had gotten away from them. She wasn’t about to send him home at this hour, only for him to have to drive back in the morning, no matter how much he protested that he would be fine.

After a brief confrontation in which Scully has to defend why her partner is still with her (“Mom invited him to Christmas, Bill”), he begrudgingly fetches a spare pillow and quilt and sets them on the couch in the living room, warning him that he’ll need to be up bright and early for present opening. Mulder salutes him sarcastically, earning a look of scorn that fizzles at Scully’s challenging stare.

“How’d the case go? You smell like seawater,” he says gruffly, hanging around far longer than needed or wanted.

“Nothing much we could do to help,” Mulder answers with their pre-prepared response. “They let us off the hook early.”

After a few more questions, which they expertly dodge, Bill disappears up the stairs to the room his family is staying in, and Mulder breathes a sigh of relief.

“Well, you did it, Scully. You successfully snuck back in without your mom finding out,” he says, cracking a smile.

“Didn’t even have to climb through a window or anything,” she adds with a straight face. “I’m kind of disappointed.”

The room falls silent, save for the sound of the heater running to keep the house warm. Somewhere in the kitchen, the ice maker rattles. 

“Will you be okay down here?” Scully asks, looking over his shoulder at the couch and worrying her lip.

He glances behind himself, then turns back to her with a tender smile. “I think he probably found the quilt that smells the most like mothballs, but yeah, I’ll be fine,” he says jokingly.

She frowns. “I can get you a different blanket. There has to be more in the closet upstairs, I’ll just—”

“Scully, Scully, I was kidding,” he says, stopping her retreat by placing a hand on her upper arm. She immediately freezes, her eyes landing on the spot where his hand touches her, seemingly realizing for the first time how close they are standing.

For an instant, he reflexively pulls away as if burned, and she feels the loss like a phantom limb. But then he’s back, this time softer. Hesitant, but purposeful. 

She shifts her gaze up to meet his.

“I’ll be fine,” he reiterates, his voice dropping to a murmur. It’s all she can do to nod, lost in the dim light of the room reflected in his eyes. His eyes scan her face, lingering for a moment on her lips, and then he whispers, “Goodnight, Scully.”

Before she knows what’s happening, he’s lowering his head, and she feels his lips press against her cheek. Although it’s not an altogether unfamiliar gesture, tonight it feels… significant. He pulls back with a soft smile and releases her, not that she could move if she wanted to. It’s like her feet are glued to the floor, and her cheeks burn at the thought of getting stuck in a daze like this from such a simple action.

Fortunately, her brother saves her from further embarrassment. “Dana, you coming?” he calls from upstairs, shaking her from her stupor.

“Yeah, be right up,” she answers distractedly, eyes unable to stray from Mulder’s. She blinks a few times and frees herself from his spell, taking a step back toward the hallway. “Um. There’s towels in the bathroom,” she states, taking another step. “I’ll be in the first room on the left upstairs, if you need anything.”

He nods quietly, smiling at her in that way that makes her stomach flip.

“Goodnight,” she says.

“Night, Mrs. Mulder.”

-.-.-

Sleep proves difficult, which probably shouldn’t surprise her. It’s a combination of things, really. The ceremony, the brief touch of his lips to hers in the courtroom, the kiss on her cheek before bed. ‘Mrs. Mulder,’ which is frankly, ridiculous, but endearing nonetheless. And a whole host of other moments from the day that she wants to commit to memory.

It hits her, as she’s lying in bed after her shower, that this is her wedding night. It’s not at all like she grew up expecting it to be, but given the circumstances, it would be weird if it was. Things are strange enough as it is, and that—well, that would complicate it even further. 

She watches the clock on the nightstand turn to midnight, the blinking display of red numbers ushering in Christmas Day while the other side of her bed lays empty. His presence is felt, though, in the cool press of her ring to her chest, now looped around a chain and hidden beneath her clothes.

She tells herself she’s wearing it still because she doesn’t want anyone else to stumble upon it in the morning, but then she’s always been good at lying to herself. Her hand travels to it unconsciously, clutching it in a fist, reminding herself that it’s real.

She sighs, rolling over. Maybe Mulder’s insomnia is rubbing off on her. With another frustrated exhale, she sits up, lowering her feet to the floor. She gathers the knitted blanket from the foot of the bed and drags it with her, creeping to the door and prying it open slowly.

Maybe he’s still awake. They can stay up and just talk, or sneak some Christmas cookies from her mother’s tupperware. Either one would be preferable to laying awake up here all alone.

When she gets to the foot of the stairs, however, she hears the sound of steady, gentle breathing coming from the direction of the couch.

Figures, this is the one time he actually manages a good night’s rest. 

She rounds the corner into the living room and glances down at the figure on the sofa. Sure enough, his arms are tucked up against his chest, his face relaxed and tranquil. He looks so young, like this. Younger even than the day she met him. 

Oh, she loves him. Of course she does. How could she not?

The way his cheek is pressed up against the pillow makes her want to curl up next to him, but she settles for the worn La-Z-Boy recliner across the room. After draping her blanket over her lap, she tugs it over her shoulders and curls up, the overstuffed chair rocking back and forth with every movement. She watches him, in the dim light from the Christmas tree in the corner. His knees hang over the edge of the too-small couch, and yet he’s as peaceful as ever, his chest rising and falling in measured increments.

Beneath his thin, pale gray t-shirt, she sees a small, circular outline. His ring, resting right over his heart.

She closes her eyes, sending a wish to whoever might be listening that one day, that heart might belong to her, and hers to him.

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear @whovianderson

[mimisempai]

I love the angel you chose to be

Summary

Crowley overhears a conversation between Aziraphale and Muriel, and realizes that words spoken millennia ago can linger in the mind for a long time, even if the person who spoke them has forgotten them. It's time for him to help his angel forget them.

Notes

We all love Aziraphale Curly and messy blond hair…

Day 2 : Playing with hair

On Ao3

Rating G -  1452 words

Crowley entered the bookstore, coffee and hot chocolate in hand holding a couple of Eccles cakes wrapped by Nina under his arm, but he saw no one. 

He was about to call out when he heard voices that sounded like they were coming from the back of the bookshop. 

He was on his way there when he heard Muriel's voice as they asked, "Aziraphale, I heard Maggie and Nina talking about something, and I was wondering, is it deliberate that the front of the bookshop is the same shade as Crowley's hair?"

Crowley paused, now curious to hear the angel's answer.

Aziraphale coughed and Crowley would have given anything to see his expression at that moment, but he couldn't without revealing his presence and he was eager to hear the angel's answer.

"Well, at first it was just a coincidence, I thought the old-fashioned red and gold gave the place a distinguished look, and then it's true that over time I also liked the idea that looking at it reminded me of his hair."

Muriel said in a slightly teasing voice, "I've seen you with your hand in Crowley's hair often enough to know that you like his hair, you know."

Crowley stifled a small gasp, thinking that Aziraphale probably had the same blush on his cheeks as he did. That nosy little bee!

"Well... you see this hair, it's kind of special, you know. It's not really red, it's an infinite shade of red. In the evening, his red hair takes on the softest sheen, and in the starlight, the red becomes intense, like the reddest of Burgundy wines, but my favorite shade is in the morning, when the rising sun reflects off it and gives it an incandescent glow."

Okay, no doubt Crowley's cheeks were now as scarlet as his hair.

"I see, I see," Muriel replied, "but how would you describe your own hair?"

Aziraphale immediately replied, "Light blonde. There's nothing special about it."

Muriel asked in a genuinely curious tone, "Do you think Crowley has the same fascination with your hair as you do with his?"

Crowley didn't like the angel's dismissive chuckle at all before replying, "Not at all. You know, I think Crowley even finds my curls funny."

"Oh, how do you know?"

Aziraphale replied, "I have known for thousands of years. Right after we saved Job's children."

Aziraphale turned to the demon and said, "I'm ready to go. 

Crawley looked at him in surprise and asked, "Go where?"

"To Hell."

The demon immediately replied, "I'm not taking you to Hell, Angel."

"Why not?"

"Well, I don't think you'd like it." 

Aziraphale protested, "But you have to. I'm like you now. A demon." 

Crawley began to smile and said in a distinctly mocking tone, "Sorry. You think you're a demon? With your curly little... and your neat white..."

The angel finished his story, "You see, Muriel, I don't think he sees anything fascinating in my curly little... I don't know what he would have called it, but given his sneering expression, it wouldn't have been very flattering."

He heard the angel clap his hands as he continued, "Come on Muriel, let's finish putting away these new books and then we've earned a little break. I think Crowley even went to get us some snacks."

Despite the angel's attempt to sound enthusiastic, Crowley knew him well enough to detect the small nuance of despondency beneath the cheerful tone.

He hadn't meant any harm at the time, of course, but knowing Aziraphale as he did now, knowing the damage Heaven had done to his self-esteem, those words had naturally left a mark on Aziraphale.

His dear angel, always so insecure when it came to himself.

The demon tiptoed back, careful not to be noticed, and silently left the shop before reentering, this time with a bang.

"Aziraphale! Muriel! I'm home! It's break time for those who pretend to work."

The two angels appeared from behind the shelves, and Crowley chuckled as they both snapped at him, offended by his earlier statement.

As he handed out drinks and cakes, Aziraphale stepped up to the window, just under a ray of sunlight that illuminated him, forming a halo around his head.

Crowley smiled softly.

His hair funny?

Nonsense. 

Crowley was going to show him.

********

A little later in the evening, they were both sitting on the sofa, one against the other. Aziraphale was reading aloud and Crowley commented from time to time.

Suddenly, Aziraphale stopped reading and asked him softly, "Crowley, my dear, won't you lie down and put your head in my lap?"

Crowley smiled softly, secretly glad to have the opportunity he had been looking for, then shook his head, "No, Angel, tonight I'd like to change."

Aziaphale turned his head to him and asked, confused, "Change what?" 

Crowley took the book from his hands and placed it beside him, then patted his own lap and said softly, "Tonight, you're the one who's going to lie down and put your head on my lap."

He put his arm around the shoulders of Aziraphale, who still looked a little confused, and pulled him close to lie down.

The angel relented, but Crowley could tell by the look on his face that he didn't quite understand. He could understand, after all, it was the first time they'd reversed positions like this.

When he was sure the Angel was settled, he bent down and planted a light kiss on his temple before whispering in his ear, "Angel, I overheard your conversation with Muriel about my hair and especially yours. I can't let you continue to think that I find your hair ridiculous or funny or whatever silly idea my clumsy words might have put into your head."

The demon straightened, placed his hands on the angel's hair, and stroked it gently.

"When I spoke of your hair that day, it was because it had nothing in common with the hair of someone you'd think belonged in hell. Granted, you wouldn't fit in. But there's nothing ridiculous about those blond curls, Angel."

He buried his fingers a little deeper in the light curls and continued, "If you only knew how many times I've imagined running my hands through this hair. Long before I had the right, like now. I was dying to know if it was as soft as it looked."

The demon buried his fingers a little deeper into the angel's hair, smiling with satisfaction as he felt the angel lean his head into his fingers.

He continued, "You know, your hair is so you. Comfortable, soft, a little messy, but still well cared for. I love it, Angel. And never once have I found it ridiculous. Never once have I found anything about you ridiculous."

He grabbed his chin and turned his head up to look him in the eye before continuing, "It's like your waistcoat, your bow tie, your bookshop, how shall I put it...they have that mix of neat and messy. Your waistcoat is hanging by a thread, but you cherish it more than anything, and it fits you perfectly. Your bow tie, always well done, but often a little crooked.

Your place, let's not talk about the mess it is, but I wouldn't have it any other way because it is you. This is how you have chosen to be. Since the day you gave up your sword out of compassion. That's the angel I love. Not the perfect angel, immaculate, well-groomed, not a wrinkle out of place. Because all this proves to me that you're no longer attached to heaven, but to this world. Because you've chosen it. All this is Aziraphale. Right down to the messy light curls, and I wouldn't have it any other way." 

He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips first to the angel's forehead, then to his lips in a tender and lingering kiss.

Then, as he straightened up, he whispered in his ear, "But still, your waistcoat..."

Aziraphale exclaimed, "Hey, don't you dare, I've had it since..."

He stopped because Crowley had just begun to laugh.

Assuming an air of dignity, he tugged at the flaps of his vest and smoothed them over his waist, saying, "It's a fine vest. I don't see anything wrong with it."

Crowley gently ran a hand through his hair and replied, "Yeah, there's absolutely nothing wrong with this vest. It's perfect in my eyes. As is the Angel who wears it."

He pressed his lips to the angel's again and gave him another kiss that went on and on.

In the eyes of heaven and hell, neither of them was perfect, but that didn't matter because they were perfect for each other.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[iwaoiness]

thank u sm @mania-sama for taggin me on this!! <3 im excited to see how this will turn out omg

𒌋 fanfic write review

— How many works do you have on AO3? —

actually 48 fics in english and spanish, i think its a huge number but then i remember there's people with more than 70 works and then i feel better

— Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes —

¹ orbit return↦ "When they're eight years old and learn in class what the orbit and the planets and the stars and the universe are, Iwaizumi decides that on Oikawa's birthday he will no longer say "happy birthday", but "happy orbit return". And it becomes a tradition. Or: Oikawa is the main protagonist of Iwaizumi's Instagram, especially, every 20th of July."

its one of the cutest i've ever written, i wanted to do something cute and soft for oikawa's b-day and show iwaoi over the years through the pictures but as i have no fucking idea how to draw, i said: ‘fuck it i'll write it’, and so it was born!! i liked it sm i couldnt hold out until july so i published it in octuber lol

² tooru's love life↦ "In wich Oikawa never revealed anything about his private life, let alone his love life. Until he posts a TikTok with Iwaizumi Hajime and everything explodes."

it was a silly thing that crossed my mind after seeing a video on twitter and idk how its in this top2 BUT im soooo grateful that yall liked it so much <3

³ chronicles of a jealous athlete↦ "What Oikawa definitely can't get over and what left him gaping with eyes wide open was the latest viral video featuring Iwaizumi (which Makki sent him just two minutes after it was posted, along with a "loool bro u should’ve come to japan"). And it's not another fancam (he wished it was another fancam, why on earth wasn't it a fancam), but a video of him, back to the camera, giving Ushijima Fucking Wakatoshi a massage. A fucking pectoral massage."

THIS IS MY PRECIOUS SON!! i saw the video on my tl and said: i MUST iwaoing this right now and worte it in one day. i had a great time writing it, i felt like i was 15 again, surrounded by books and being able to read saga after saga every week, totally engrossed in the world of manga and anime, having evolved in my writing style and feeling that i finally could show my full potential and reveal without further walls everything that my mind holds. im very fond of it i swear

⁴ oikawa's problematic phone case↦ "In which Oikawa shows a video to a famous talk show host and (unintentionally) ends up showing half the world the photo he keeps in his phone case. And it would all remain an anecdote if it weren't for the fact that it is a ID photo of Iwaizumi Hajime (27) athletic trainer."

can u believe i just wanted to do a drabble about iwaizumi being the kind of person who doesnt try hard at all and looks SO HOT in the id photo and then this came out lol i just now its something canon

⁵ when the rain falls in summer↦ "It's summer, it's raining, Oikawa is lying on the couch like an invertebrate animal, humming a song because he doesn't know silence, and Iwaizumi can't ask for anything more."

i couldnt be iwaoi's fan without writing iwaoi enjoying the two of them in their flat on a rainy day, all sweet, loving and in love, and with a balcony full of plants ugh i love them with my whole heart

— Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? —

yees!! its my fav part of publish a work, even though sometimes i forget and get months behind, i LOVE responding to comments, it's like feeling more connected to people and an incredible dopamine rush

— What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? —

all i know is my life is gone, well tecnically its all angst not only the ending, but thanks to this i found the joy of writing angst, now i understand people who write an 120k fic of pure angst, somehow its reaaaally funny

i have another one in spanish la paz de akaashi its a bokuaka fic y si eres hispana hermana no sabes lo que me dolió emocionalmente destrozar a bokuto y akaashi pensé que sería soportable pero nO

— What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? —

AAAAAAA I CANT CHOOSE apart from the previous two plus another one that has a bittersweet ending (between alphas if u r curious), the rest of the 43 fics have happy ending, but so as not to leave this blank I will say: little piece of home

— Do you write crossovers? —

nopee, and i dont think im ever going to write it cuz im not really into it

— Have you ever received hate on a fic? —

only once lol when i started in the fanfic world in fanfiction.net with vocaloid stories (dark past don't ask) and i was 12 or 13 y/o ig when one of my shameful fics ended up in a review blog with the top spanish fanfic writers, and they dedicated a WHOLE post to me with a destructive (and a little bit constructive) criticism. actually it wasnt that bad cuz that was my turning point and now i write well thanks to it, and since then i havent received any hate on any of my fics!! (for now lol)

— Do you write smut? If so, what kind? —

another yes thank youuu. i love to write it not too explicit, like leave u wanting to know a lot more and also to be able to imagine it a little bit as u like, if that makes sense

— Have you ever had a fic stolen? —

not that i know of, and hope to keep it that way pleaseee

— Have you ever had a fic translated? —

nope

— Have you ever co-written a fic before? —

nope again

— What’s your all-time favorite ship? —

IWAOIIWAOIIWAOIIWAOIIWAOIIWAOI im OBSESSED with their dynamic. its just so freaking good (and don’t even get me started on the fact that childhood friends is my weakness). with these two, there’s literally endless possibilities and AUs u can explore without pushing them into major ooc territory, which, tbh, is a struggle with some ships. like, u want enemies to lovers? fits like a glove. strangers to friends to lovers? perfect. full-blown angst with a happy ending? chef’s kiss. angst with hurt/no comfort? yup, that too. whatever the vibe is, if it’s iwaoi, it just WORKS

and individually they’re a solid 10/10. like, sure, iwaizumi didn’t get as much screen time as oikawa, but his personality is so well-crafted that it feels like he’s been a core part for all 402 freaking chapters of haikyuu (well he's a core part if it wasnt for him, tooru would’ve been absolutely eaten up by guilt for hitting kageyama and might’ve even quit volleyball and that iconic line ‘the team with the better six is stronger’ it’s HIS, and it hit kageyama like a truck) and don’t even get me started on timeskip iwaizumi hajime (27), athletic trainer, he's my roman empire

and oikawa, oh my oikawa, i’d legit have to write a whole doctoral thesis cuz he’s THE character. his development's straight-up apotheosis. he’s one of the best-written characters out there, and if u disagree, go argue with the wall. the man crossed the damn pond for volleyball, became a STARTER on the argentinian national team, rediscovered the joy in the sport, and kept his pride intact through it all. uuugh and at 30 years old, he’s still a total dork but irresistibly handsome piece of man

— What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? —

okay listen to me carefully (or rather, read me carefully) i have a lots of WIPs but for the last FOUR years in my iwaoi doc there has been THE wip that has been going around in my mind but that will probably never come to light and that im going to let a summary of here cuz if i suffer for not being able to write it, as it deserve, yall suffer with me for not being able to read it:

inspired by the music video of halsey's song colors, omegaverse iwaoi, where oikawa (18) is a dominant omega (a real one, who can bend an alpha with his pheromones) and iwaizumi (29) is an alpha. i know it sounds repetitive BUT KEEP READING!!

the oikawas are a pretty well-off family: daisuke (a lawyer with his own successful law firm) is the alpha dad, aoi (a social worker at an omega shelter) is the omega papa, tomiko is the eldest alpha daughter, and tooru is the youngest omega son. tomiko’s married but always stays in close contact with the family, and daisuke and aoi’s relationship is super healthy, making them a tight-knit family where oikawa grew up never lacking love.

but then adolescence hits hard and oikawa becomes ridiculously beautiful, flamboyant, smart, strong, attention-loving, totally into top and bottom dynamics, and most importantly, he LOVES teasing his dad, though daisuke always dishes it right back cuz they’re both stubborn as hell (but his dad really cares about him and only looks out for the best, just like his papa). actually oikawa gets along quite well with the rest of the omegas, but his closest friends are makki (an omega marked by beta mattsun) and suga (the epitome of perfection with a playful streak he rarely shows, and ofc engaged to daichi).

oikawa and hanamaki usually go to the sports club to play tennis because volleyball is not an omegas thing, and with suga he attends the music conservatory where he plays the violin. at the omegas institution, the three of them are in the sewing club (led by akaashi btw) although tooru has no fucking idea how to sew.

so, the story kicks off with makki and oikawa watching a volleyball match at the said prestigious miyagi sports club, where daisuke and a handful of alphas (and mattsun) play. among them is yutaro iwaizumi who happens to be a little bit in love with tooru (and even has a semi-blessing from the oikawas to court him). but, ofc, tooru has zero interest in that iwaizumi. his eyes are on the other alpha iwaizumi who plays volleyball too with his dad, the one who looks at him with those intense green eyes, the one with a dimple on his right cheek when he smiles, the one with a deep, gravelly voice that makes oikawa’s stomach flip, the one with an overwhelming presence, the one who smells like sandalwood and mint, the one with a broken mark on the nape of his neck.

hajime iwaizumi, the big bro of yutaro

AAAAAA DUDE, NOW I WANNA PICK IT UP AGAIN, IT’D BE SO GOOD I WANNA CRY. i wrote three chapters and half of the fourth, and honestly, it was so fun cuz i add humor and build a fun dynamic between the OCs (aka tooru’s parents) and tooru himself. ugh and don’t even get me started on the epic scenes i included, like oikawa getting into big trouble sneaking into an alpha institution just to smash a nut tart into the face of an alpha who’s allergic to nuts for revenge

— What are your writing strengths? —

wow i’ve never really stopped to think seriously about this, but i think im decent at conveying emotions (someone pls tell me this is a legit writing strength before i embarrass myself here), like, i try to make them feel real and almost palpable instead of leaving them just abstract. and maybe creativity too? im always looking for ways to avoid repetition and make everything feel smoother and more fluid

— What are your writing weaknesses? —

definitely describing places, i HATE that kind of description. i try my best, but if it’s already a struggle in spanish for me, just imagine doing it in english, i caaant every time it makes me want to bang my head against my laptop. oh and i feel like cant write long fics to save my life cuz i always feel like i wont be good enough to pull it off or that i’ll mess up squeezing the plot and fucking it up, and it drives me absolutely crazy but but i swear im trying to improve that aspect and one day get a long fic or a 10k+ one shot uploaded without dying in the attempt!!

— What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? —

i think its super funny (u cant comprehend the joy that comes over me when i read fics in english with argentinian oikawa saying dialogues in spanish), although its true that sometimes it hinders the reading a bit if one isnt fluent in the other language, its a good tool that makes the reading more interesting as long as its used well, i see it as another resource to make the reader more involved in the story imo

— What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to? —

right now off the top of my head i’d looove to write kuroken, more bokuaka, some oihina, kenhina, definitely atsuhina, kagehina, and tanakiyo from haikyuu. and once i finish arcane, i’m literally DYING to dive into jayvik. also, i love love love kingdom (GO READ IT, ITS LEGENDARY), and i’d be so hyped to write something shin x qiang too

— What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? —

i really hate to choose i swear but the first one that cross my mind its hajime's premature death i had such a blast working on the plot, like driving iwaizumi insane with oikawa rocking a skirt has been soooo enriching. honestly, i think this might just be the most fun fic i’ve ever written

time for tagginggg @vvalllerie @winnterboobear @kingofech0park if yall want to do it, no pressure!! ღ

[dilfdarthvader]

The official 'OP has read 500 Merlin fics in a month' rec list

I am truly deep in Merthur hell and have recently hit around ~500 fics read for this fandom so far. As such, I wanted to compile my favorite Merthur fics so far.

(if y'all like rec lists, i might do an obikin rec list too!)

Secretary by Candymacaron

rating: E

Summary: Job-hunting has familiarized Merlin with rejection. Most of the listings in the paper require qualifications he lacks, or prior job experience no eighteen year old would have. One listing sticks out at Merlin—a simple advert, with the word ‘Secretary’ written in bold typeface. (A Secretary Movie/BBC Merlin AU in which a fragile Merlin learns to love his job, himself, getting spanked, and his boss. All in that order.)

one of the first fics i read in this fandom and!!!! it's such a good secretary au (which is always a classic for any kink readers)

The Wedding Night by s0mmerspr0ssen

rating: E

ship: Gwen/Merlin/Arthur

Summary: The consummation of a royal marriage must be witnessed by a third party. Naturally, for Arthur and Gwen, that witness is Merlin.

My bookmark note read: "did i start watching merlin for the show or for the smut fic? this fic makes me think it's the latter". This ship is just SO GOOD too.

Next to You (It's the Rule) by LunaMyLove

rating: T

summary: Arthur and Merlin have a special relationship. They always have, even when they were prince and servant. While many question it when first noticing, eventually it becomes an understanding in Camelot—and even among some other countries—that where there is Arthur, there is Merlin. And, where there is Merlin, there is Arthur. Or Arthur and Merlin's relationship as witnessed and explained by others. Also, or Five times someone realizes that Merlin is the Queen, one time Merlin realizes it himself, and one time he owns it.

such a fluffy read that had me giggling and kicking my feet in the air and twirling my hair. instant reread

all the scars at the start (I could’ve showed you) by AgapantoBlu

rating: T

ship: Gwen/Merlin/Arthur

Summary: [In which Gwaine accidentally brings Merlin's dead girlfriend back to life as a ghost. Leave it to Arthur and Gwen to overreact over every small thing, but being very chill about the very big thing.]

you'll need to be logged into AO3 to read this, but boy is it worth it. i was sobbing. full on sobbing. 10/10

Glow Gold by BelleCrow

rating: E

Summary: Merlin takes the final battle into his own hands after Mordred's blade finds Arthur's heart. Wielding power over life and death there on the battlefield, Merlin's magic is revealed. But the only surviving witness is Arthur, and he has carefully spun the tale to keep Merlin's magic a secret. The King is determined to keep it so until he can drag the truth from Merlin's lips and press his own revelations back into his sorcerer.

this fic gave me a magic kink. i had to keep pausing reading bc holy shit.

Fit for a King by Clea2011

rating: E

Summary: Merlin is a prize fit for a king. But the king he was intended for hasn't taken that prize. When the king of the faeries loses his big-eared, argumentative and troublesome bedmate, he orders his people to find a replacement. Nobody disobeys Oberon. Ever. But Merlin is Arthur's.

FAE! FICS! i love love love this fic and it was so fun and full of some fun familiar characters

so close and I'm halfway to it by ariadne_odair

rating: M

Summary: Merlin swears he doesn’t go looking for trouble, but it seems to follow him around regardless. After being ambushed by a group of bandits, it’s up to Arthur and Merlin to rescue the rest of the knights. Of course this involves journeying through a forest full of magical creatures- because nothing in Merlin’s life is ever easy. That would be more than enough for Merlin to deal with, but nights alone in the wilderness and escaping death every five minutes, have a funny way of bringing two people together. Merlin doesn’t want to reveal his true feelings to Arthur, but then he never wanted to reveal his magic to anyone, either. And look how that turned out. It's a lot easier to manage Merlin's secrets between them when they're surrounded by nothing but trees. But Arthur and Merlin will have to return to Camelot eventually. Merlin's destiny might just be closer than he thinks.

and finally, the first fic in a decade that kept me up until 2am to read. this fic made me fall in love with fics again.

[cannibal-nightmares]

Funny Thing About Opinions

Stein is at a banquet he wishes he weren’t at.

Something a bit free-form. don’t take it too seriously. Social burnout in the overwhelming face of well-intent.

Soul Eater - Stein & Spirit // hurt/no comfort, hurt/comfort, loose AU, low social battery, asocial Stein, non-chronological, cliffhanger, social burnout, anxiety, implied SpiritStein, whether it's OOC by the end is up to your imagination Word count - 1,667 -- [AO3 link] - [x]

It was like his teen years, at a party surrounded by people he didn’t want to talk to, having conversations he didn’t want to have. Of course he actualized the feeling of honor he was supposed to be experiencing, but his preoccupied thoughts had him distracted from the present, an itching under his skin that had his soul reaching to rattle the bars of its cage.

“Franken, is it?”

The teen refocused his attention from his right where some peers mingled by the front door. He’d observed the girl now in front of him before: If it weren’t for the fanned ember within her soul, she might have otherwise been reduced to being plain and blonde.

“You’re Spirit’s partner.”

“Stein.” He corrected her. “Sure.”

“Word has it you’re the top-performing meister of the academy. I didn’t take you for the party type.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’m trying to get to know you, aren’t I? Spirit said you might be aloof.”

“So you know him, after all.” It was a statement, not a question. “Although, Spirit wouldn’t call me by my first name to someone whom we weren’t mutually acquainted.”

“Sheesh, would you relax? This isn’t an interrogation, you know.”

He huffed with a forced half-grin, taking a learned sip from his solo cup, a drink he didn’t realize until then he had actually wanted. “Yeah. Excuse me, Kamiko.” Stein shouldered himself through the crowd to meet the stairs without a second glance, wandering until he found a bathroom or quiet bedroom or broom closet.

It was a child-like overwhelm.

The teacher nudged his shoulder, but he couldn’t hear what she had suggested to him. He turned over his fist and watched closely to its center as his fingers peeled away to reveal a grasshopper in his palm, its legs readjusting in anticipation. On cue, as it jumped out of the boy’s grasp, he scooped at the air to catch it once again in two cupped hands, amused by the timely prediction.

“Don’t you want to play with your friends?”

Hesitant--not of anxiety but of thought--he raised his gaze to hers before calculating the outcomes of possible answers; he glanced blankly to the kids his age chasing each other around a swing set, already assuming the insect to hop out his hands. The short answer was, no, he didn’t want to play today. Why did they insist he couldn’t continue on reading from individual time? He didn’t like that recess followed and interrupted such honed focus, it often made his skin crawl; sometimes he could force the feeling away, sometimes it welled in his chest and flooded into his head, especially when people would ask him questions-made-rhetorical with such readable answers. To speak would spout a stream he would not be able to stop.

In his thoughts, Stein felt his own soul twinge with frustration, followed by a short anger, then a sinking defeat. He shook the grasshopper in his hand to help himself think, but the effort was fast-discovered futile. They had taken his books away before, and his retaliation was met with a confused discipline. He’d considered repeating his anarchy over and over again: He could play the long game, but the chance that it wouldn’t have amounted to anything by the end, he decided, wasn’t worth wasted time consistently committing to time out.

Still, the jagged juxtaposition was gutting him through his sternum.

“Oh, honey, you’re going to make the bug dizzy doing that.”

Stein couldn’t unclench his fist as he brought both hands to the sides of his head, squeezing pressure into his skull. It was relaxing. It tuned out the shrieking kids and muddied her voice into a more bearable volume. The touch, then, to his shoulder startled him and had him retreat inward, a soothing humming in his throat. Why couldn’t she see what he wanted? What was it that he needed? Why was it all a trick? How was the truth of the matter so wrong?

It was a declared selfishness.

“Stein!” An echoed calling shouted from a distance.

The grad student snapped out of his writing in a haze, meeting the wall to finally note how dark the room had become. Someone was making a racket from the street below and a sharp buzzing rang from downstairs.

“Stein, you can’t tell me you’re home right now!”

His hesitation was less that of startled anxiety, but more that of recollecting where he was and why. Stein’s chest eased as the picture reformed in front of him, a peace in remembering he was safe in his own sanctity.

“I mean, I guess you can, atleastthen I’d know you’re not off dead somewhere or something…” As the voice trailed off, Stein couldn’t ignore the slur on its tongue, sparking his attention to fast conclusions. He stretched out his arms over his head before hoisting himself out of his chair to meet the window, sheer curtains obstructing the pedestrian’s view of him if they had tried to look.

On the street was a wobbling redhead in a mussed suit jacket and nice shoes. The man’s soul was glowing warm, but was going dim in disappointment. Stein’s hand twitched to open the window in reply or to meet the front door, though the blanket of solitude weighed comfortingly over him.

“What was it all for, Stein?” Spirit begged. “Can we not celebrate you?”

The amusement from the graduate’s face faltered. He had been told before not to acknowledge the creeping resentment that started to bloom in his throat, but something spurred like a quiet gnawing behind his ears. There it was again. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. He was grateful, sure, but his wants didn’t match expectations.

“Professor Stein!”

A girl in a blazer bounded towards him from the crowd of familiar faces. He politely moved his champagne to his side.

“Your speech this evening was just the encouragement the kids needed to hear to keep their spirits up. And a congratulations are in order to your anniversary.”

He had given a speech? Oh, he must have, it would explain the distracting cross-frequency that buzzed over his attention. Although his half-smile stemmed from somewhere genuine, he had to force his focus in response.

“I’m flattered, Maka, though my work would not be much without the perseverance of my students.” A beat, and he let his colors bleed in front of the young woman. “Too, I think this event needs to shed more emphasis on its alumni than some of those like me…”

He fiddled with his glass in the slight unprofessionalism. Now that his students were long-graduated, he felt more comfortable than some of his peers to regard them as comrades rather than pupils, especially as some of them were teachers, themselves. In the past, he would have put up a front for her, hidden away his discomfort to lead by example and to spark her own confidence, but these days he trusted he could be met in the middle, giving a sort of cue he wanted to reserve his niceties if they needed to be more applicable elsewhere. She caught it.

“For everything that you are.” Maka tipped her head and toasted her glass.

He had to blink away his surprise.

“And to yours.”

He hadn’t intended on slamming the door when he got home, but the window panes across the living room rattled as he stumbled into the breezeway. Stein’s heart was pounding—he hadn’t noticed it had gotten that bad—his hand tracing the wall for balance while the other fumbled to unbutton his collar. His foot lagged at the crossroads of the hallway where he could pace to his room, his sight stuck on the couch that was just two steps away. A deep sigh that unhitched the tightness in his chest, Franken allowed his chest to meet the cushions, his face half-smushed into a throw pillow.

No more. Not again. He couldn’t even acknowledge when someone had entered the room to place a blanket over him.

“Stein.”

Standing near the double doors of the banquet hall’s balcony, Stein hadn’t realized he had got caught in a loop of cranking at his screw, his eyes closed and face turned downward, his brow exhibiting a faux focus to the room. Everything had gotten so loud, he couldn’t tell even when the volume was turned down by the dissipating crowd.

“It’s a little much, huh?”

Cutting through the static was the cool air from outside that seeped through the aging architecture. He wanted to think. He needed to think. He threw on the cruise control and restarted on safe mode; all he had to do was ride out the rest of the evening, ignorantly pretending he would be able to confidently acknowledge when the road ended. Without opening his eyes, he nodded upward just once to the presence that approached him, fire to fingers that continued the ratcheting.

“Let me take your glass.”

It was out of his hands.

“Come, follow me outside.”

The flute was replaced by a squeeze to his palm, to which Stein returned. A step, a cr-clacking, a rush from a breeze, a few more steps followed by another cr-clack, then almost-silence. He brought his grip away from his bolt to meet his face, soothing himself with loose knuckles to rub at his temple. The other hand followed suit.

“Sit with me.”

He did, guided by the elbow. The concrete was cool.

“I don’t normally negotiate.” Stein muttered with a humored rise in his voice, but his face remained unmatched and flat.

“Shut up.” Spirit huffed playfully.

He did.

It was dark, Stein didn’t have to open his eyes to know that, and the fragrance of night was refreshing to their lungs; the light music from beyond the wall caught his attention in waves, he but was beginning to make his escape out from the rip current. One last hand to his back, and, finally, a deep and granted exhale of mutual salvation.

[jurassic-girlie]

Benji Week 2024

tw for eating issues (Search 'Luckyisshe' on Ao3 for more notes)

"Smaller Than This"

Day 2 Prompt: Growth Spurt

“It’s funny,” Ben started as he set his plate down, “a few years ago I would have refused everything on this plate. Wouldn’t have touched a single thing… but now, barely even a second thought goes into it!” he continued, taking a forkful into his mouth.

“Yeah?” Kenji looked up at him, “That's really good, Ben, great actually. I’m really proud of you,”. 

The boys exchanged smiles and continued eating.

“Absolutely unrelated, but did you want to watch a movie once we’re done? No rush, of course, but that ‘Fall’ movie just came out and I wanted to watch it with you. I don’t know, maybe I could get scared and hug you to make it better?”. Kenji looked towards Ben with a hopeful expression. 

“Sorry, can’t. I’ve got to work out after this, you’re welcome to join me though,”.

“Ben…”

“What?”

“That’s every day this week so far, it’s okay to take a break,”.

“Hey, you’re the one who’s always talking about keeping the gains! Gotta stay active in case any dinos attack, y’know?” Ben attempted to keep a playful demeanor, but Kenji remained serious.

“Listen, Ben, I know you aren’t on your treatment plan anymore, but I remember it like the back of my hand. It specifically mentioned to keep you from exercising after meals… along with the bathroom and the shower, so you can’t, you know…” Kenji trailed off.

“Exactly. I don’t have to follow the plan anymore, therefore I can do what I want Kenj. I promise I’m being careful, you don’t have to worry that pretty little head of yours so much,”.

“But Ben I am worried. I’ve been reading some articles to try and understand this better. Sometimes while in recovery people can swap one eating disorder for another, and I’m worried that’s happening to you. Be honest with me, please. Are you relapsing?”.

“Of course not! You remember how bad things got when I was actually relapsing, back in like, 2018. I’m nowhere near there, I’m just enjoying some light exercise,”.

Kenji thought about it for a moment, after all Ben’s relapse was infamous and terrifying within the CampFam. That summer, Ben had gone to work with Mae on Mantah Corp Island. Mae, to no fault of her own, was under the perception that Ben had fully recovered. In her mind he was treated after being rescued from the island and that was that. She, like everyone else, had assumed that he was fine, and he was free to do what he pleased. When Ben stopped showing up for meals she didn’t question it, she just figured that he was finding time to eat on his own. After all, they were busy managing a dinosaur island by themselves, there wasn’t time to check in every hour. 

Ben started dropping weight, slowly at first, but it progressed as time went on. Mae kicked herself for not realizing what was happening sooner, but by the time she had noticed, it was too late. By early autumn Ben was hospitalized for his eating disorder for the second time in his life. It was this event that led to the Nublar Six researching much more about eating disorders than the average person.

Remembering this, Kenji shook his head. “No. No, I love you but I know what you’re doing. You don’t have to be underweight to be relapsing, Ben, you know that. You don’t have to skip every meal to be relapsing. You don't have to skip any meals to be relapsing. Over-exercising, however, is a form of purging. Purging means a relapse. So tell me Ben, what’s going on?” Kenji tried to make eye contact, though he didn’t want Ben to see the tears welling in his eyes.

Ben sighed. “I don’t know. I just– I feel enormous. I know that’s a good thing, gaining weight and getting taller and everything, but it just feels wrong. I’ve been skinny all of my life up until now. I just feel like it’s not as bad if I can at least gain muscle instead of fat. Then it feels more like I deserve to eat…” he revealed before he thought about what he was admitting.

“Ben…” Kenji sat in heartbroken disbelief. 

“Just forget I said anythi–”

“No,” Kenji cut him off, “help me understand,”.

“Well… obviously recovery has led to a lot of growth spurts, and I love that everyone is trying to be nice, and they’re only talking about how tall I am, but the others keep making comments about how big I’ve gotten, or how much harder I am to hug. I just can’t help myself from thinking they’re talking about my weight. Every time they call me huge, I imagine them judging me for being fat, it makes me feel disgusting,”.

Kenji took a moment to collect his thoughts. He pulled Ben into a hug before speaking. “I am so, so sorry. I’ll let everyone know immediately, okay? It’s unfair to you that we didn’t even consider that. Just, please, promise me you’ll tell me if you feel this way again? If anything is even borderline triggering to you, promise me you’d let me know?” His voice wavered and tears rolled down his cheeks, but Ben didn’t mention it.

“I promise, Kenj. I promise. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner,”.

“Shush, don’t apologize,”. Kenji pulled him tighter into the hug. “I’ll let them know right now, okay?”

“Okay,”. Ben pulled out of the hug. “Hey, um… I’m gonna get seconds, do you, uh, want any?”

“Yeah, for sure,”. Kenji smiled.

As Ben refilled their plates, Kenji pulled out his phone and started typing out a message. Ben noticed he didn’t receive the notification once Kenji put his phone down, though he didn’t say anything.

—-

Benjamin Pincus’ Secret Support Group 

Hey guys, Ben just shared some pretty vital info with me. Basically he said when we make comments about him being “big” or “huge” it triggers him really bad. I think it’s best that from now on we avoid making any comments about his appearance (height, weight, muscle etc. ). And just keep an eye out, he might be on the verge of a relapse /:

[jasscheeks]

the alcohol talks; gojo satoru

pairings: hs!gojo x reader

warnings: underage drinking, they go mwah mwah mwah, and one itsy bitsy curse word

i imagine gojo to fully kiss you and then be like “that’s crazy, my hearts acting funny. you think i’m having a heart attack or what?” and then proceed to treat you like you’re dating him.

just you and gojo “platonically” making out.

this is just a little drabble that i wassss going to make into a one shot but it’s perfect like this 🤍

thank you for reading!! please reblog!!

m.list | ao3

there was a running thing between the second years, a bet between them waging how long it would take you and gojo to finally get together. so far they've been going a few months with this bet, everyone's bets changing to later dates the more you two stalled. but they could see it, they could see the way the two of you danced around each other completely avoiding the question that hung between you two.

because yes, the two of you have held hands, yes, you've cuddled each other to sleep before, yes, he unashamedly would ditch the rest of your friends to hang out with you, and yes you might've platonically kissed a few times. but there's no harm in a few kisses here and there, right? besides, he'd been wondering what it would be like to feel those seemingly soft lips of yours. and yeah, he might’ve been staring at them a little more than he’d like to admit, but when the opportunity presented itself he ceased the shit out of it.

your first kiss with gojo was in the middle of a game of spin the bottle. there was finally a free weekend, so you decided to throw a party at your house. with your parents out of town, it was the perfect timing for a little fun. so like the teenagers you all are, someone suggests you all play spin the bottle. no harm in a few sly kisses.

a few rounds go by and suddenly the top of the bottle lands on gojo, and when he spins it, you unconsciously hold your breath and pray. but unfortunately, it doesn’t land on you, it lands on suguru. and of course, gojo’s ready to tease him. making gushy, high-pitched noises at suguru as his friend is actively trying to get away from him. you’re giggling and so is everyone else in that small circle of yours, but for some odd reason, you can’t help but feel disappointed.

soon gojo settles for a quick peck on the cheek when he finally gets a hold of suguru, who’s whining about how he shouldn’t have played in the first place. after the fact a few more rounds go by, you’re letting shoko peck your lips and somehow mei mei kissing your forehead, saying something about how the lips aren’t for sale or something along the lines of that. you can’t tell by how buzzed you are off the alcohol, but you were getting giggly. although, the giggles stop after your first time spinning the bottle and the head of it lands on the boy who’s been awfully close to you the whole night. suddenly, you’ve sobered up and you’re looking at gojo as if you’d just seen a ghost.

everyone’s oohing and focusing their eyes on the two of you, but suddenly you feel subconscious of the gaze gojo has set on you. he’s looking down at you, his sunglasses falling down the bridge of his nose revealing those mesmerizing oceanic eyes. before you know it he slides a hand on your jaw, his lean fingers grazing your ear. with his other hand, he’s sliding his glasses off before he’s leaning in.

you expected his lips to be soft, and smooth with that strawberry chapstick he used so religiously. you expected to smell his sweet cologne considering you could smell it any other day. but it was so much more, so much better than anything you could’ve ever expected. you can taste the alcohol on his lips, and you’re sure he can taste it on yours as well. but it didn’t matter anymore, because when it’s over and he’s moving away, you can’t seem to open your eyes. but when you do you’re met with his pristine face, his eyes also sealed shut.

you all decide to end the game there, leaving you and a dumbstruck gojo to clean. you’re back to your giggly state suddenly realizing what just happened. it feels like a dream, there’s no way gojo and you would kiss, you’d been friends since sorcerers were still out for his skin. and gojo’s indulging in you, laughing along as you’re joking about the kiss.

“like imagine that, hehe… you and me?” your cheeks are hurting from how hard you’re smiling. you giggle as you whisper “crazy…” before you’re throwing a can of beer into the trash.

he’s giggling too as he flops on the couch behind him, the area around you two somehow spotless, a complete 180 of how it looked when everyone left. “nothing wrong with platonically kissing some of my friends, besides,” you flop down next to him, making him pause to look at you. he hasn’t put his glasses back on instead they’re on top of his head crookedly. you don’t why but you think it’s cute, but that must be the alcohol talking. “i could totally platonically kiss you again.”

hearing him say that makes you smile, and suddenly the girl who was about to drop dead during the game is gone. you’re up for the challenge now, if he wants to play, “oh yeah? bet i could platonically kiss you and still feel nothing,” you’ll play harder.

he’s chuckling, the sound is sending goosebumps down your arms and butterflies in your stomach. but there’s no way, that has to be the alcohol in your system. “you wanna bet? right now?” he asked, getting awfully close to your lips, but you don’t move.

“you owe me an ice cream if i win, satoru,” his first name slips off your tongue so easily, it makes him excited, giddy even. hearing you say it somehow makes him love the name even more now.

not even when his arm is resting on the head of the couch just inches from you, you don’t bat a single lash. “feel anything now?”

“can’t feel a thing,” you’re both slurring your words, but you keep your eyes on his, the liquid confidence still exuding off of you. you can smell his cologne even stronger now, even the smell of the alcohol but that doesn’t bring you to your senses in the slightest.

so he moves closer, a hand on your waist now. he’s close, as in you can feel his breath on your lips close. “still nothing?” he smiles, and you feel his lips brush yours. you’re unconsciously fighting back a shiver.

masking it, you tilt your head, eyes darting down to his lips as a giggle slips from yours. you pause there for a second, eyes on his now, but he’s already looking at you. your heart clutches. “not a single thing—,” he wastes no time pressing his lips on yours. the hand that held your waist is wrapping around you, pulling you in closer. he’s gentle, he’s enjoying it, of course, taking in every second he spends wrapped up in you. your perfume is intoxicating, not to mention the plush feeling of your lips, he’s lost in it. and maybe, he feels a tinge of warmth in his core when you’re pulling him in closer. and maybe it grows stronger when you place your hand on his face. that shy kisser from earlier is gone, completely gone when he comes back to stare into your eyes.

you’re beautiful, breathtaking staring at him like this. you’re both out of breath, breathing in each others faces. he wants more, he needs more, but he snaps out of it hearing you utter something, your lips grazing against his, “absolutely nothing,” you’re smiling while you’re patting his cheek, slipping away from his touch.

he watches as you walk your perfect self away from him, hips swaying to an imaginary beat, and suddenly he sees you, sees nothing but you. everything else doesn’t matter anymore. he doesn’t understand it but for whatever reason, he’s popping up and following you wherever you’re going. “you owe me some chocolate vanilla swirl, mister gojo,” you slur as you inch towards the front door, ready to walk to the nearest ice cream joint.

with that intoxicating, drunk smile of yours, he’s pretty sure he’d be okay with following you to the ends of the earth. drunk or not.

and maybe this time it’s not the alcohol talking.

thank you sm for reading!! and thank you for the support on my pretty setters thing, i didn’t think i would get so much attention from it!!

i’m still getting notifs on it till this day 🏃🏽‍♀️

[grayhyacinth]

The Wishmaker Star

Go watch season three of The Owl House! I hope you guys enjoy another work I wrote. Unfortuantly, school is about to start again, so I'm not sure when I'll create another work. But, I won't forget about you.

Links: ao3, tumblr, masterlist

Hunter’s POV:

“…do you think she’s going to like it?”

“Dude, you know she’s been wanting a palisman for like... over five years!” Augustus sighed in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose before sliding his fingers down the length of it.

“Yeah! I know, but—”

“Plus, you’ve been carving palistrom wood to make her the perfect palisman.” Gus added air quotes, emphasizing the last two words with a teasing smirk. “She’s going to love it.”

“…really? You think so?” The former Golden Guard turned the small, carefully wrapped gift box in his hand a few times, as if the motion could help him decide whether its contents were truly enough.

“Really.” Gus nodded with confidence, locking eyes with Hunter. “Now, come on! We’re gonna be late to the party!” He stopped mid-stride, suddenly grabbing Hunter’s hand and tugging him into a sprint.

“Haha, hey! Okay!” Despite the laughter in his voice, Hunter couldn’t shake the undercurrent of anxiety brewing inside him. What if you hated it? What if the last thing you wanted was a gift from someone who used to serve Belos?

His fingers tightened around the gift as they dashed through the forest, the sight of The Owl House growing closer. Deep down, he desperately hoped you’d appreciate it. More than that—he hoped you’d understand what the gift really meant to him. What you meant to him.

He blinked in shock. Did he really just think that? His ears burned bright red, and he forced the thoughts away, but they lingered, hanging in the back of his mind as they neared the clearing.

The trees thinned, revealing the tip of the familiar crooked roof, smoke billowing from a lit, bubbling cauldron. The scent of delicious food greeted them, and the sound of laughter echoed through the clearing, filling the space with warmth.

His eyes were instantly drawn to you.

“Haha, seriously, Luz?”

“Oh, come on! Don’t tell me you didn’t find that funny!” Luz was grinning, clearly proud of herself, but you were shaking your head, still chuckling.

“Your attempt at a dazzling light show ended up with random colorful sparks chasing each other around! You almost set King on fire!”

Your laugh rang out again, your head tilted back, eyes crinkled in a way that made you absolutely radiant in Hunter’s eyes. It had been three long months since your last visit to the Boiling Isles. And he missed you.

(Y/n) POV:

Returning to the Boiling Isle was like a breath of fresh air after drowning in the Human world. While Luz occasionally visited the Isle, you had thrown yourself into preparing for your exams, working day and night to secure your place at your dream university.

And now, you had done it. The letter was sitting back in your room, in the Owl House, confirming your acceptance. Tonight’s "Night Under the Stars" party wasn’t just a reunion with friends—it was the perfect chance to announce your plans for the future. But that didn’t stop the nerves boiling beneath your excitement.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Gus and Hunter making their way through the crowd. The moment your gaze met Hunter’s, a wide smile spread across your face, and you waved energetically.

“Gus! Hunter! You made it!”

Gus approached first, grinning as he handed you a blue gift bag decorated with silver stars. “The party looks awesome, (Y/N)!”

“Thanks, Gus!” You took the bag, your excitement bubbling over. “You didn’t have to get me anything, though!”

He shrugged dramatically. “It’s either a gift or a firework show, and let’s just say... my track record with fireworks isn’t the best.”

You laughed. “You mean the time you nearly set Luz’s eyebrows on fire?”

Gus pointed at you. “Exactly! See, I’m learning from my mistakes. No more ‘explosive’ gifts. I went safe this time.” He gestured to the bag.

Peeking into the shimmering tissue paper, you raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried about this gift now?”

Gus waved his hands quickly, eyes wide. “No, no! I swear, it’s not dangerous. This time it’s actually cool! Just, uh, make sure you open it carefully… outside.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Gus!”

He laughed, nudging you. “Just kidding.”

Hunter stood a little behind Gus, awkwardly shifting the small, carefully wrapped box in his hands. He took a deep breath, holding the gift out to you, his gaze darting nervously to the ground.

“I… uh, made this. For you.” His voice was quiet, and his ears were still red. “I hope you like it.”

You took a step away from Gus, eyeing the gift box with curiosity. It was wrapped in a beautiful shade of magenta, one that almost perfectly resembled Hunter’s eyes. A neatly tied yellow ribbon sat on top, forming a large, slightly uneven bow that added a cute, personal touch. You couldn’t help but smile—Hunter was really getting good at arts and crafts.

“This is…?” you asked, your voice soft as you carefully reached out, your fingers brushing against his as he held the box. His hand felt warm and rough, calloused from endless hours of training and carving. You couldn’t help but notice the small bandages wrapped around each finger, a testament to how much care and effort he must have put into this.

Your eyes flicked up to his face. Hunter’s blush deepened, his freckled cheeks glowing a light pink as his eyes darted anywhere but yours. He seemed frozen, caught between the hope that you'd like it and the fear that you wouldn’t. It was endearing, seeing the normally composed Hunter so nervous.

His voice barely came out in a whisper. “It’s, uh... just something I made. I wasn’t sure if it was good enough…”

You smiled, squeezing his hand gently to reassure him. “Hunter, you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted quickly, almost panicking at the thought that you might dismiss it. His eyes finally met yours for a second before he looked away again, clearly embarrassed by his own outburst. “I mean, I just… I thought you might like it. If you don’t, that’s fine too! I just—”

You cut him off with a soft laugh, feeling your own cheeks warm. “I haven’t even opened it yet, but I already know I’m going to love it.”

Hunter blinked, surprised by your words, but his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. His lips twitched upward in the smallest of smiles as he mumbled, “I’m glad…”

You carefully took the box from his hands, your heart fluttering at how much thought he must have put into this. Whatever was inside, it already felt special. You looked up at him again, giving him another warm smile. "Thank you, Hunter. Really."

He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah, uh... you're welcome." He stole a quick glance at you, his blush deepening again.

You glanced over at Luz, who was giving you and Hunter a smirking look, clearly enjoying the awkward tension. “I think there’s a couple more things left to do before the party can start, right, Luz?” You raised an eyebrow at her, trying to shift the attention away from you and Hunter.

Luz’s smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, totally! But, you know, I think we could give you two a little more time to… finish your moment.” She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a laugh. “Luz.”

She snickered. “Okay, okay! I’ll behave. But yeah, there’s a couple last-minute things to get done. I’ll go grab the snacks from the kitchen, and King’s in charge of making sure everything goes well. You know how much he loves bossing everyone around.”

Hunter let out a small, awkward laugh, scratching the back of his head. “Sounds like King…”

“Yup! Little guy’s already giving me a lecture about optimal stargazing positions,” Luz added with a grin. “But we’ve got it all under control. You two just… keep doing whatever you’re doing.”

“Luz!” you called, a mix of embarrassment and amusement coloring your tone as she dashed off with a mischievous wave.

Hunter stood beside you, looking slightly flustered but smiling softly. You turned back to him, giving him an apologetic shrug. “She’s… well, Luz.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, eyes softening as he looked at you. “She is.”

While Amity worked her culinary magic in the kitchen, preparing delicious treats and savory bites, Willow was outside weaving a tapestry of glowing enchanted flowers. Gus was busy setting up a stereo system and curating a playlist.

Lilith, ever the organizer, took charge of a trivia game focused on the magical history of stars and constellations. Eda zipped around with King to assist wherever needed—whether it was adjusting decorations, fetching supplies, or simply keeping an eye on things to make sure everything was running smoothly.

Hooty, with his characteristic enthusiasm, took on the role of party greeter and entertainer. He offered his over-the-top hospitality, engaging in animated conversations.

As for you and Hunter, you were hard at work preparing the stargazing area. Together, you laid out an array of soft blankets and pillows, arranging them in inviting clusters around the open space. You made sure there were ample cozy spots for guests to lounge and gaze up at the stars. Hunter adjusted the placement of a few blankets to ensure that everyone had an unobstructed view of the night sky.

Taking a step back, you admired the sight before you. The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting a final burst of orange and pink across the sky. As the daylight faded, the first stars began to twinkle, their light growing clearer against the deepening blue of the evening. It was a breathtaking backdrop for the night’s festivities.

With a deep breath, you called out, “Everyone! It’s time!” Your voice carried across the gathering, amplified by the excitement in the air.

Gradually, the guests made their way to their chosen spots, finding cozy places among the clusters of blankets and pillows you and Hunter had arranged. Plates of snacks and small bites were passed around, with some guests holding their treats in hand as they settled in. The soft murmur of conversation began to mingle with the occasional burst of laughter, while the louder chatter from Hooty and the background music set a lively, cheerful tone.

As everyone settled in, the trivia game organized by Lilith started to draw interest, with guests eagerly gathering around to test their knowledge of magical history.

"What rare type of star is known for emitting a gentle, calming glow that can soothe even the most agitated magical beings?”

“Oh! I know!” Willow immediately raised her hand. She was literally clutching a finger, hence the name for finger food, and waved it around excitedly. “The Tranquil Star?”

“Very good, Willow!” Lilith responded with a proud smile. She marked a point on her chalkboard, which rested on her lap. “Next question: Which star is known to be the source of the most potent moonlight magic used in spells and enchantments?”

“Hmmm…” You furrowed your brow, trying to recall your Astrology Class lessons at Hexite. But before you could come up with the answer, Eda chimed in, leaning back with a confident grin.

“Obviously, the Silver Beacon,” Eda declared, casually biting into a piece of spicy manticore jerky. “These questions are too easy. Either you’re getting rusty with your history, Lilly, or I’m just a natural.”

Lilith’s smile widened, clearly enjoying the challenge. She noted a point for Eda on the chalkboard. “Alright then,” she said, rubbing her hands together in preparation for a tougher question. “What is the name of the mystical star that is said to appear only once every hundred years and grants a single wish to those who find it?”

A hush fell over the group. Everyone furrowed their brows, deep in thought, but no one could come up with the answer.

Lilith’s eyes twinkled with a mix of anticipation and mischief. “Come on, folks,” she teased. “Anyone want to take a guess, or should I reveal the answer?”

Amity speaks first, tapping her chin thoughtfully with a finger. Her other arm is wrapped securely around Luz, drawing her close. “How about giving us a hint?” she suggests, her tone light but eager.

Everyone nods in agreement. Lilith, clearly enjoying the playful challenge, grins and leans forward. “Alright, I’ll give you a hint,” she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “The name of this star is said in stories we read to children.”

You spent a lot of time in the library, a habit sparked partly by Amity and Luz’s influence, but also because you genuinely enjoyed delving into the rich history and lore of the Boiling Isles. As you pondered Lilith's hint, a classic children's story came to mind. You murmured the title under your breath, “The Wishmaker Star.”

Hearing your whispered answer, Lilith’s eyes lit up with approval. “That’s right!” she exclaimed. “Nicely done, (Y/n)!”

The group erupted in applause, impressed by your knowledge. Lilith marked another point on her chalkboard, and the trivia game continued with a renewed sense of enthusiasm.

Once the trivia game ended, with Gus emerging as the clear winner, the friendly competition had everyone in high spirits, and now it was time for the much-anticipated moment: opening the wrapped gifts.

You gathered the colorful packages, each one tied with cheerful ribbons and adorned with heartfelt tags.

The first gift you unwrapped was from Amity. It came in a shimmering purple bag, and as you carefully lifted the tissue paper, you found a beautifully crafted crystal pendant. The pendant was shaped like a star, with intricate details that caught the light in a mesmerizing way.

Amity watched with a hopeful smile as you admired the pendant. “I thought it might be a nice reminder of the stars we’ve spent so many nights talking about,” she explained.

You were touched by the thoughtful gift and hugged Amity gratefully. “It’s perfect, Amity. Thank you so much!” you said, your voice filled with warmth.

The next gift was from Luz. In her yellow gift bag, you discovered a small, leather-bound journal. The journal’s pages were blank, inviting you to fill them with your thoughts, dreams, and magical discoveries. Luz had added a personal touch by writing a heartfelt note on the first page, expressing her pride in your achievements and her hopes for your future. You rushed over to hug her tightly.

Luz’s said enthusiastically. “I’m glad you like it. I thought it would be perfect for your new adventures,” she said, her tone filled with sincerity.

After that, you made sure to open each gift and to express gratitude with heartfelt joy.

Eda had gifted you a charming, hand-carved wooden charm that depicted a playful owl. The charm was both whimsical and meaningful, capturing Eda’s unique sense of magic and mischief. “I figured you could use a bit of my own brand of luck,” Eda said with a wink. “Besides, owls are good for keeping watch!”

Lilith’s gift was a beautifully crafted set of magical candles, each one infused with different enchantments. There was a candle for relaxation, one for focus, and another for inspiration. “These are to help you with your studies and your adventures,” Lilith explained with a warm smile. “Light them when you need a little extra magic.”

Gus’s gift was a set of magical quills and enchanted ink. Gus had been excited to see you use them, and his enthusiasm was evident. “I just knew you’d appreciate these for your notes and sketches,” he had said. “Be careful with that though. Only write with the bright green ink when you want something to come to life!”

Willow’s present was a collection of enchanted botanical seeds. Each seed had its own magical properties, such as glowing flowers or plants that could change colors with the seasons. “I thought you’d enjoy growing these,” Willow said with a shy but proud smile. “They’re a little bit of nature’s magic for your home.”

Next, was Hooty’s gift. The eccentric owl had been practically bursting with excitement, his eyes gleaming as he hopped around. With a dramatic flourish, he coughed up a large, oddly-shaped package that landed with a soft thud in front of you.

As you carefully peeled away the wrapping dripping with salvia, you discovered a bizarre but intriguing gift: a large, enchanted plushie that looked like a cross between a fuzzy critter and a whimsical creature. The plushie had multiple eyes and an array of mismatched limbs that wiggled amusingly.

Hooty, still brimming with enthusiasm, explained, “Surprise! I thought you could use a little friend to keep you company. This is Hooty’s special buddy, Fluffernox!”

“Haha…” You held the disturbing stuffed animal at arms length. “Thanks… Hooty…”

Lastly, you turned your attention to Hunter’s gift. His hands trembled slightly as you carefully untied the ribbon and unfolded the wrapping paper. Inside was a small, intricately carved wooden box. You noticed that the lid of the box had your initials. As you lifted the lid, you discovered a delicate, handcrafted palisman. The palisman was adorned with symbols and a subtle glow, reflecting the effort and care Hunter had put into its creation.

You were momentarily speechless, your eyes wide with amazement. “Hunter… This is incredible!” you finally managed to say, your voice filled with awe. “I’m truly surprised. It’s beautiful.” You held up the small creature, admiring it’s weight in your hand and the aesthetic.

Hunter leaned in, his hair brushing lightly against your forehead as he gently cupped your hands, holding the palisman between you. “All it needs to come to life is to know your deepest desire,” he whispered, his voice soft and intent. The warmth of his hands and the fresh scent of his shampoo made your pulse quicken. Heat rose to your cheeks, but Hunter was so focused on the palisman, he didn’t notice the way your gaze lingered on him.

“I—” you hesitated, the words catching in your throat. What was your deepest desire? What did you truly want? The weight of that question felt almost unbearable, and you swallowed hard, feeling the pressure of the moment closing in. Now was the time to tell them—about your future, your plans, everything.

You gently pulled your hands back, allowing the palisman to fall into Hunter’s palms. His expression shifted to one of confusion, but before he could ask, you stepped away, the silence from everyone around you suddenly heavy. Their eyes were on you—waiting, watching. You felt as though the weight of their expectations was pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe.

Your hand trembled as you clenched it into a tight fist, trying to steady yourself. You took a deep breath, scanning the faces of the people you cherished. They all looked at you with concern, curiosity, and affection.

“I… I have something to tell you guys,” you finally managed, your voice cracking just a little under the pressure. The words hung in the air, each one harder to say than the last. “I’m staying in the Human Realm.”

They blinked Everyone stared at you, stunned. You could feel the weight of their surprise, their confusion, and the sharp, heavy moment that seemed to stretch between all of you.

The silence that followed your announcement felt endless, thick with shock. You could see the confusion in their eyes, the sudden tension between excitement and uncertainty. Even Hooty, usually brimming with chatter, was silent, his long body frozen in place.

Luz instantly stood up, her wide eyes reflecting disbelief before she finally broke the silence. “Wait… you’re staying?” Her voice was a mix of confusion and hurt.

You nodded, your throat tightening. “Yeah. I got accepted into my dream university in the human world. It’s… it’s a huge opportunity for me.”

Amity’s eyes widened in understanding, but there was a flicker of sadness. She squeezed Luz’s hand. “You didn’t tell us. All this time, you’ve been planning to leave?”

“I didn’t know how to say it,” you admitted, feeling your heart pound harder in your chest. “I didn’t want to make anyone upset.”

Eda let out a low whistle, crossing her arms. Her usual smirk was replaced with something else, something more thoughtful. “Well, kid, that’s one heck of an announcement. I get it, though. You’ve got big dreams.”

Gus, stepped forward with his usual enthusiasm dimmed by concern. “Does this mean you won’t be coming back? Like, ever?”

Hunter, still holding the palisman in his hands, was the quietest. His magenta eyes darted between you and the small creature. His mouth opened slightly, but he hesitated to speak, clearly grappling with what this meant.

The pressure from their reactions hit you hard, and you tried to steady yourself. “I didn’t tell you guys sooner because…” you paused, taking a shaky breath, “because I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t an easy decision, but after everything that’s happened, I think it’s what I need.”

Luz’s lips trembled, her hand gripping Amity’s tighter. “But we’re your family too,” she said softly, her voice breaking slightly. “Are we… not enough?”

Her words cut deep, and you felt your heart ache as you tried to explain. “It’s not about that,” you said quickly, “it’s not about any of you not being enough. I love you all so much. But… I have a life back in the Human Realm. I’ve worked so hard to get into this university. I need to follow through with that, with my own future.”

Eda let out a small sigh and rubbed the back of her neck. “You’ve got to do what feels right for you, kid,” she said, her voice softer now. “It’s a tough call, but… I get it.”

Hunter, finally finding his voice, spoke quietly. “And the palisman…?” His eyes searched yours, his fingers brushing over the wooden surface. “It won’t come to life if you don’t… if you’re not here.”

You looked down at the palisman, the weight of his words sinking in. This creature, a symbol of magic, connection, and belonging in the Boiling Isles, would never awaken in the Human Realm. You felt a pang of guilt, but you stood by your choice.

Hunter didn’t said anything else, but his eyes met yours for a brief moment. There was something deeper in his gaze—something that made your stomach flutter with uncertainty. Finally, he broke the silence. “I’m happy for you,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with something unspoken. “This palisman… it’s for you, wherever you go.”

He reached out his arm, beckoning for you to take the palisman. You looked up at him and then back towards the creature. “Thank you, Hunter.” You said, your voice heavy. “I’ll—”

“Will you be gone forever?” Willow’s voice trembled, her lips quivering. She adjusted her glasses to hide the sight of tears brimming the edges of her eyes.

You shook your head quickly. “No, I mean—I’ll visit, of course. I’m not disappearing forever. I just… I need to do this. For myself.”

Lilith reached out and squeezed your arm gently. “We’re happy for you, you know? It’s just… we’re going to miss you.” She was the first to squish you into a hug. Everyone else followed suit, attaching themselves to you as if they could somehow keep you from leaving by holding you close. It was overwhelming, the way everyone piled on with their arms wrapped around you—each hug a reminder of the bond you shared.

“We’ll be like one of those inter-dimensional friend groups!” Gus continued, his voice muffled by the group hug. “We’ll visit you in the Human Realm, and you can visit us here. It’ll be epic!”

Luz, still clinging tightly to you, added, “Yeah! We’ve got portals! Nothing’s stopping us from seeing you.” "You better not forget about me, your majesty!" King puff out his chest. "After all, who else is going to teach you about ruling the world? I can’t have my future co-ruler running off to the Human Realm without a plan!"

Hunter stood a little apart, watching quietly. His arms folded across his chest, but you could tell he was trying to process it all in his own way. He still held the palisman carefully, his fingers tracing the edges absentmindedly.

As for Hooty, he'd suddenly stretch his long, bendy body over to you, making his presence known with his usual unsettling enthusiasm. "OH, (Y/N), MY BEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE WORLD! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!" He’d dramatically sob, then in a disturbing twist, he’d blurt out, "Do you need a Hooty-sized suitcase? I can pack myself inside and come with you!"

You looked at the weird creature. Hooty was… unexplainable. You were gonna miss him.

Eda, ever the practical one, ruffled your hair gently. “Kid, you’ve gotta do what makes you happy. We’ll survive without you... somehow,” she teased, but there was a glimmer of emotion in her eyes too.

As the hugs loosened and everyone stepped back, the weight of the moment settled in. You weren’t disappearing from their lives, but things would be different. There was a bittersweetness in the air, knowing that this was a goodbye of sorts—not forever, but for now.

As the group slowly dispersed, leaving you a moment to catch your breath, you faced the blond boy. He stood there quietly, his hands shoved into his pockets, his gaze shifting between you and the sky above.

"Hey," you said softly, trying to catch his eye.

He looked at you, his usual guarded expression softer than you’d seen it before. “(Y/n)…” he replied, though his voice was quieter than usual. It was like he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the words. For a moment, there was silence—neither of you quite knowing what to say.

“I... I guess this is it, huh?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze finally lifted, and you could see the mixture of emotions swirling in his magenta eyes—uncertainty, sadness, and something else that made your heart skip a beat.

You offered him a small smile, stepping closer until you were only a breath away. “It’s not goodbye, Hunter,” you said softly. “It’s more like... see you later.”

He nodded, though his shoulders still seemed tense. “Yeah, but... it won’t be the same. I won’t be able to just... you know, see you whenever.” His hand clenched around the palisman for a moment before he loosened his grip, offering it to you again. “Here. Take it. You should have it.”

You reached out and gently closed your hand over his, pushing the it back toward him. “No, Hunter,” you said, your voice steady. “I want you to keep it safe for me. That way... I’ll have a reason to come back. To see you.”

Hunter’s breath hitched slightly, and his eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, it was as if the world had quieted around the two of you. Then, with a soft exhale, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that lit up his face in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“I... I’ll keep it safe,” he promised, his voice more certain now. “And... I’ll be here. Waiting.”

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him in a tight, warm hug. He stiffened for a second, clearly taken by surprise, but then he slowly relaxed into the embrace, his arms wrapping around you in return. It was a quiet, tender moment—no words needed, just the unspoken understanding between you.

“I’ll miss you,” you whispered, your cheek resting against his shoulder.

Hunter’s grip tightened slightly, his breath warm against your hair. “I’ll miss you too,” he whispered back, his voice soft but full of sincerity.

As everyone murmured in agreement to start star gazing, Hunter tugged you along to a soft picnic blanket. As the night grew deeper and the stars twinkled above, a particularly bright one caught your eye. It shimmered in the sky, a little brighter than the rest, almost like it was watching over you. You recognized it immediately, your breath catching in your throat.

“The Wishmaker Star,” you whispered, pointing it out to Hunter.

Hunter’s eyes followed your gesture, widening when he saw it. “What would you wish for?” Hunter’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant, as he looked over at you. His hand was still wrapped in yours, grounding you in the present.

You looked up at the star, thinking about everything—your journey, the friendships you’d built, and the uncertain path that lay ahead in the human world. But then your gaze shifted to Hunter, sitting beside you, his face illuminated by the soft starlight. After a long pause, you answered.

“I don’t think I need to make a wish,” you said softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I already have everything I need. Friends who care about me... and people I’ll always come back to.”

Hunter’s expression softened, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “I think I’d wish for the same thing,” he murmured, glancing back at the Wishmaker Star. “To keep what I’ve found.”

A moment of comfortable silence passed between you, the star continuing to shine brightly above, as if blessing the quiet bond you shared. You leaned your head against Hunter’s shoulder, your heart full, and together, you both watched as the star slowly began to fade into the night.

And as it vanished into the sea of stars, leaving only its soft glow behind, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Wishes weren’t always about longing for something new—they could be about holding onto the moments and people you already had. And under that starlit sky, you knew that no matter where life took you, this connection, this feeling, would stay with you—just like the legend of the Wishmaker Star.

Hunter whispered, almost to himself, “Maybe we didn’t need the star to grant our wish. Maybe it’s already come true.”

And under the vast, starry sky, with the warmth of his hand in yours, you couldn’t help but think he was right.

[dragonologist-writings]

Title: Shake the Dust Fandom: Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous Rating: G Status: One-Shot Main Characters: Knight-Commander Piper Chanterelle, Woljif Jefto Additional Notes: Friendship, Companion Quests, Woljif Gets A Hug Word Count: 1.1k Summary: Woljif has some mysteries to unravel and decisions to make. Piper's not about to let him go through any of that alone.

read below or here on ao3

“I’m coming with you.”

Piper doesn’t use her ‘Commander Voice’- she knows with Woljif, that’s likely to do more harm than good- but her tone still invites no argument. And there is no argument to be made, not even from Woljif, that could convince Piper to let him tackle whatever’s waiting for him in the city all on his own. To his dubious credit, Woljif still tries.

“You really don’t have to do that, chief!” His tail flicks back and forth, betraying the anxiety he’s so obviously trying to mask. “This is my business, and I can take care of myself. No need for you to waste your time getting all mixed up in it!”

Piper crosses her arms, unrelenting. Maybe he’s right: it’s his business, his family, his shadow whispering sinister directions in his ear. If he really wants to handle this on his own, she could easily let him. But Piper knows Woljif, and she knows that if he really didn’t want her involved, he could have easily left in the middle of the night with her being none the wiser. He could have come up with some excuse, however flimsy, that didn’t reveal his shadow’s growing power.

But he didn’t. He came to Piper with truth, and if that’s not a plea for help from somebody like Woljif, nothing is.

Besides, the thought of him wandering off on his own through this demonic city is too much to bear, and Piper knows she’d never forgive herself if something happened to him.

“Well, you didn’t have to drag yourself into the literal Abyss just to keep helping me. But you did.” Piper tilts her head, giving him both a smile and a sharp don’t-argue-with-me-on-this look. “So now it’s time to let me help you. Fair’s fair.”

“You sure?” Woljif’s expression flickers between relief and worry, and he’s obviously trying to hide both behind a veneer of nonchalance even as he bounces on his feet in nervous energy. “It’s not like you owe me anything.”

“I know. But what else are friends for?”

“Friends?” With a laugh, Woljif looks away, waving a hand at Piper’s words. “Aw, come on, chief. You know I don’t believe in stuff like that. But I guess if you really wanna come, I ain’t gonna fight you on it. Always a good idea to have a bodyguard, right?”

And Piper might be offended, if she didn’t catch the embarrassed smile on his face.

Much later- it feels like years, although in reality it can’t have been more than a few hours- Piper and Woljif are standing in the middle of an abandoned mansion with a dead demon and a broken amulet at their feet.

Piper lets out a long, low breath. “Well, that was…a lot.”

“Was it?” Woljif’s voice comes out slightly high-pitched. “Lemme think…” He drops to the ground gracelessly and begins ticking off points on his fingers.

“I found out I really am some sort of prince- guess I owe a lotta people their gold back, huh? I met my grandpa. I killed my grandpa. I coulda gotten myself some grand powers outta the deal, and instead I got this!” He holds up the amulet- or setting, rather, as the jewel Woljif once treasured is now gone.

“A shame we couldn’t save it,” Piper says lightly, kneeling down besides Woljif and tracing a finger over the chain. “But it’s still pretty.”

Woljif chuckles. “Yeah, it’s not so bad. I bet I’ll find an even nicer jewel to fill it once this whole crusade is done with.” He pauses, wrapping and unwrapping the amulet’s cord around his fingers. The repetitive motion seems to calm him, and after a moment he hesitantly adds, “And the funny thing is, I don’t regret getting rid of it. I don’t regret saying no to my grandpa. I think…I think I made the right call, for once.”

The statement is made with quiet confidence- not the loud, brazen picture Woljif usually presents to the world, but something far more sincere.

Piper smiles, and lightly bumps Woljif’s shoulder with her own. “That’s good.” And it is- Piper knows how it feels, to be offered power beyond your greatest dreams. Perhaps it was hypocritical of her to advise him against it; perhaps the fact that he turned it down means he’s stronger than she ever could be. “Woljif?”

“Yeah, chief?”

“I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, chief. For everything.” Woljif blinks a few times, and if Piper didn’t know any better she might say those are actually tears in his eyes. He continues on, stammering in a shaky voice as if trying to get the words out before he loses his nerve. “I really dunno why you’ve treated me so…I mean, I’m nothin’, and you’re…but yeah, you were right. We’re friends. Actually friends. And you’ve been there for me, more than my own family ever was. So, yeah, thanks, and- I mean, even if I’m not all good with words like you are…”

“Are you kidding? You’re perfect!” Piper exclaims. “Look, everyone else…they mean well, and I love them for it. But with all the politics and angels and royal assholes, you’re one of the few people who’s been keeping me sane.”

“You mean it?” Woljif asks sheepishly, and Piper’s heart nearly breaks. She knows this is all something new for him. And the truth is, it’s new for her, too. Everything in her life has been transient and temporary, and even now she can’t help but wonder how fair-weather her friends are. And Woljif, for all his flaws, understands that- understands Piper- better than anyone else.

“Of course I do. Demonspawn stick together, yeah?” She holds her fist up, and Woljif gives a watery chuckle as he bumps his knuckles against hers.

“We sure do.” Woljif wipes at his eyes and shakes his head. “Look at us. Sittin’ here sniffling like a couple of saps. Must be all the dust floatin' around here. Least we should be doing is robbing this place, right? I know it’s abandoned, but it’s still a mansion, and we’re not leaving a speck of gold behind!”

Piper laughs, and on impulse leans over and wraps Woljif in a hug. She pulls back quickly, slightly embarrassed as she says, “Sorry, I know you don’t really do that-”

But her apology is interrupted when Woljif pulls her back in, clutching her tightly with shaky arms.

“I’ll make an exception for you, chief,” he mutters, his voice thick. “But don’t you go telling nobody.”

Piper grins and hugs him back, trying not to make it obvious that she herself is now starting to tear up. “Wouldn’t dream of it. We came, we killed your grandfather, and we robbed this place blind. No crying at all. Typical thiefling business.”

“You know me well, chief. Guess that’s why we’re friends, huh?”