#ive had this written for so long but was so hesitant to post it

[ariseur]

hey!!! ive been reading your sephiroth fanfics recently and it has been such an intricate work of art i genuinely feel the emotion and love put into it, your writing is just perfect in terms of how you write his character! i was wondering if i could request a seph x reader maybe during or post advent children and is really angsty with some fluff regarding his return??? it's vague (sorry😭) but i know if you did take up on it youd do fantastic!! 💖🫶🏻

liberabo volucres 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

sephiroth (ffvii) x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

omg you are literally so sweet!!!! thank you so much for this request, although i don’t think i did it justice 😭 i wasnt quite sure how to go about this considering after advent children, the remnants of seph faded into the lifestream (i think?) so it’s more angsty with lots of mentions of kadaj, but i hope you like it either way!! i’m glad you enjoy my sephiroth fics and don’t hesitate to send more asks!! love this one 💕

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

mentions of kadaj and remnants of seph, written in a yearning type of way where you still have a hole in your heart left from sephiroth, don’t ask where you came from at the beginning!! just enjoy it 😭, intended lowercase, mentions of kissing kadaj’s forehead, lmk if i missed anything!!

┊ ˚➶ word count ｡˚ 🎼

1327 words, 7173 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“cloud,” your voice only a faint whisper as you called out to the blond, “what did you do?” he lifted his head, his skin glossier with the droplets of rain falling on his face. his eyes widened at the sight of you, chest still rising and lowering rapidly as he recovered from his battle with sephiroth. how foreign that name felt on your tongue, now.

you got up from your hiding spot beyond the debris, knees aching from how long you were crouched as your feet slammed against the flat surface of the floor. you watched as your kadaj’s catlike slits for pupils— pupils that constantly reminded you that he was still apart of sephiroth, despite his role as being only a remnant of your lover— flickered towards you with whatever energy he had left. the corner of kadaj’s lips quirked upwards ever the slightest as you rushed over him, cloud moving out of your way as he stood up.

cloud’s words, albeit firm, lay dormant in your brain, “he was going to kill me—kill us all.” and even with his sharp tone, you didn’t pay him any mind. the only thing you could focus on was kadaj’s eyes trained on yours, scoffing as he rasped out, “such— a drama.. queen.” you softly shushed him, watching as his eyes became emptier by the minute. your throat stung as a choked sob threatened to escape its enclosure behind your uvula. kadaj lifted his hand only for you to grasp it, moist leather clutched in your palm as you placed it back to his chest. he intertwined your fingers, a wince leaving his lips as you held his head up.

it took everything not to look away from him. his hair, his eyes, even the way he smelled, reminded you of sephiroth. sometimes, you wish it had been different. you wish you would’ve been there when it had happened, and even now, your memory’s fuzzy of the events. all you remember was the day sephiroth left you, and you haven’t stop thinking about him since. you wished he had come to you, and apart of you was angry. maybe you were angry that he left you with no word, or maybe angry that instead of opening up to you, he decides to burn a village down in his spiral, or maybe you weren’t angry at all.

you paused, taking another look at kadaj’s furrowed eyebrows and his lidded eyes. you wonder if this is how sephiroth felt upon his notice of who he really was— what he really was. he was only in his twenties when it happened, you couldn’t have imagined how he felt. you remembered; his friends, gone and turned against shinra, and with all the pressure on him about the cover-up, you thought that maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault. you realized now, that you can’t get what you want from this world without taking it yourself. saying please didn’t scratch the itch in the back of your throat the way that anger did, and you assumed sephiroth felt the same.

clasping kadaj’s hand, he let out a weak sigh. you let your hand, although shaky and so weak that you can’t make a fist, card a piece of his hair out his face; your heart ached at your hands in his silver hair, mind racing back to when you’d brush sephiroth’s hair for him. a true honor, you’d always call it.

the way kadaj’s eyes widened and his ears perked up made you pause, like he was listening for something. even with cloud’s tense presence behind you, you refused to let go of the part of sephiroth, your part of sephiroth. the only part you had of him left. you couldn’t be angry at cloud. he was only doing what he thought was best— and in the end, maybe it was for the best, you thought. you couldn’t even be angry at yourself, your mind only clouded with grief as your sniffles and teary sighs filled the air.

the sound of kadaj’s arm moving, leather rubbing against itself, interrupted your soft cries as he lifted his hand up to the sky. a soft whisper of, “mother—?” left his lips.

your hand snaked up and you rubbed your thumb against his cheek, watching as he turned his head towards you slowly. a teary sound left your lips, you weren’t even sure if it was a sob or a laugh. but you leaned down, pressing one last kiss to his forehead as his eyelashes fluttered, just the way sephiroth’s did when you’d lay with him in the morning where golden rays would seep through the curtains and shine onto your beloved.

all good things must come to an end, you realized, as you watched the only physical evidence that sephiroth had coexisted with you fade into the lifestream, his arm fading into reduced crystallized mako. you closed your eyes, shoulders heaving as you tried stifling your thick cries; after all, cloud was still behind you. you held onto kadaj’s hand until it was no more, his body being lifted up and vanishing although you couldn’t bear to watch it. and you didn’t open your eyes, not for a long while, in hopes that maybe you’d be back in the comfort of your home as you heard heavy footsteps trail behind you to the kitchen, sephiroth’s content face across from yours at the dinner table. and you didn’t open your eyes until you heard a low hum, beyond the loud sounds of the rain hitting the concrete, beyond your own shaking breaths. this couldn’t have been cloud, you thought. your head lifted up and squinted so as to not get any rain in your eyes.

and there he was— or more so a faded version of him. even in the rain, you couldn’t help but gawk at him in awe, his hair flowing so gracefully even in the humidity of the rain. even if you were dreaming, you’d wish you would never wake in hopes of spending one last minute with the one you held dearest to your heart. one last moment with sephiroth and you’d feel like you’d finally be complete.

his eyes, still sleek and catlike how you always remembered, almost look amused. he held a smile at you, his head cocking at the sight. you didn’t want to think of the possibility that this was just a hallucination of your grief. this was more than that. sephiroth was more than that.

he gave you a nod, a nod of which you didn’t understand. ever so esoteric, you thought. the way he always was after nibelheim. you sat back on your haunches, your knees still against the wet, cold floor— taking one last look at sephiroth before he turned around. his head tipped back, fingers twitching as he let himself face the sky, until he finally let himself go and faded away as well.

your lip trembled, a teary laugh releasing itself from your throat until cloud put a soft, awkward hand on your shoulder. head turning to face him, your eyes met his. you realized now that cloud did what was best, and you couldn’t possibly blame him for that.

he cleared his throat, almost cautiously as if you’d snap at him for interrupting the silence, “we have to go. i’m sure tifa’s waiting for us.”

you sniffled, wiping your eyes from both the rain and the tears that littered your cheeks. looking back down at your lap, once where kadaj laid, you were met with emptiness. closing your eyes once more, you inhaled and let the air fill your lungs. the first deep breath of air that you’ve taken in what feels like years, one that felt fresher— almost bittersweet. and when you turned back to cloud, you gave him a firm nod.

the urge to be changed is not metamorphosis, you realized. you can’t be changed without making a change of your own.

[himasgod]

King Deshret x Reader IV part I

Where Deshret finds out that you are marrying Morax, and goes to great lengths to get to the location and beg for your forgiveness.

(PART IV DONE. I've decided to split this request in two, since I wanted to make it quite long and doing it in one post would be quite long. This part is about Deshret finding out that you're going to marry Morax and the next one, which I'll post in a few hours, will deal directly with the wedding and Deshret interrupting it. Thanks to sailorstar as always and, of course, enjoy <3)

XVII.

The nights in the desert had always been his refuge, a kingdom of endless stars above a sea of ​​golden dunes that only he could rule. The silence, once so comforting, now weighed on his shoulders like a blanket of ice. King Deshret returned to the palace after half a year away, the promise of returning to you still fresh in his mind. He had set out in the hope of bringing you an era of splendor, with Nabu Malikata at his side. But in his obsession with dreams of greatness, he had let himself be carried away by the intoxicating sweetness of the Goddess of Flowers.

When his sandals echoed in the halls, there was no welcome. He did not find you waiting for him with a frown or words of reproach for his prolonged absence. Instead, he was greeted by a desolate palace, as cold as a tomb. The servants avoided his gaze, bowing their heads in silence. Was there something they were not telling him? An inexplicable uneasiness began to stir in his chest.

“Where is the queen?” he asked in a grave voice to one of his oldest servants, whose face was marked by uncertainty.

“Your Majesty… the queen has departed.” The man hesitated, swallowing before adding, “You will find a letter in her chambers.”

The words fell like stones into a bottomless pit. Deshret felt his heart race as he walked through the halls with increasingly hurried steps, almost tripping in his haste to reach the room they once shared. The door, normally ajar to allow the light of the rising sun, was now shut tight. He pushed it hard, almost ripping it off its hinges.

There, in the vastness of the bed he had shared with you, lay a single scroll. Deshret approached slowly, as if the simple act of touching it could trigger a catastrophe. His hands, which had not trembled even in the face of the most fearsome armies, now trembled as he unrolled the letter.

“To King Deshret, who was once my husband: I hereby dissolve our marriage. I am no longer the queen who swore to remain at your side in the eternal dunes. I am leaving, for the fidelity I promised cannot be sustained in the emptiness of a love that has withered.”

The words were sharp, written with the precision of a knife. Each sentence was a reminder of what he had lost in seeking the company of another, of what he had let crumble in his pursuit of power and fleeting pleasures. This was not just a piece of paper; it was the end of an oath he had taken for eternal.

But it was the last line that broke what little remained of his temper:

“I return to my home in Liyue, where the vows I gave you will be extinguished like the embers of a fire that no longer burns. This time, there will be no turning back.”

XVIII.

The weight of your words echoed in his mind as he stood there in the dimness of your empty chambers. You had been so much more than a wife to him: you were the legendary Phoenix Princess, Liyue’s most precious jewel, the daughter of the Phoenix Queen. You had given up your golden destiny alongside Rex Lapis, you had abandoned the fertile valleys of your homeland to accompany the king of a kingdom of sand. And he, blinded by the promise of power alongside Nabu Malikata, had let the glow of that sacrifice fade.

When he was finally able to move, Deshret summoned his advisors, demanding answers. But all he received were evasive glances and empty answers. You had left with a small entourage, taking only what was yours, rejecting all the luxuries he had arranged for your comfort. Your decision had been final, unwavering.

Deshret felt an unparalleled emptiness devour him from within. The great king who had defied the gods was now nothing more than a broken man, a prisoner in his own palace. For the first time in centuries, King Deshret understood what it meant to truly lose. Not by war, not by the betrayal of allies, but by the foolishness of his own heart.

XIX.

A week later, Rukkhadevata arrived at the palace with news he did not wish to hear. She stood before him, compassion veiling her emerald eyes.

“Deshret,” she said softly, “I come with news from Liyue.”

“Speak, Rukkhadevata.” His voice was barely a whisper, as if the mere act of speaking words exhausted him.

Dendro Archon took a deep breath. “Rex Lapis has sent invitations to all the Archons. He is announcing his marriage with the the Phoenix Princess.”

His blood froze in his veins. He felt the world crumble around him, as if the palace walls were about to collapse on him.

“Marriage…?” he repeated in a murmur, unable to process what he heard.

Rukkhadevata nodded regretfully. “She has returned home, Deshret. She has found in Morax the love and stability that you denied her.”

XX.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of anguish. While Nabu Malikata spoke excitedly of the lavish ceremony Liyue was preparing, he could barely hear her. Her words were like a distant echo, lost in the storm of his mind.

He couldn’t bear it. The image of you beside another man, smiling as you once did just for him, consumed him. Morax… his rival, his opposite in so many ways, was taking away what he had cast aside.

“I must see her once more,” he decided, his pride crushed under the weight of his despair. He turned to Rukkhadevata with a plea he never thought he would make.

“Take me to Liyue, I beg you. Let me see her, even one last time. Let me beg her to reconsider, to forgive me… before it’s too late.”

Rukkhadevata watched him, pain in her eyes. She knew it wouldn’t be easy. He knew you had closed your heart forever. But after a long, tense silence, he nodded.

“I will take you, Deshret. But you must prepare for what you will find. It may already be too late. Sometimes, even for the gods, second chances do not exist."

XXI.

And so, the once invincible King Deshret, who defied the gods and dreamed of conquering the heavens, found himself in the position of a broken man, a king who had lost everything because of his own blindness. Now, he was not heading into a battle to win a kingdom, but into a fight for a heart that no longer belonged to him.

As the desert dunes fell behind him and the green valleys of Liyue rose before him, he knew he was facing his final battle. But this time, the price of failure would not be a crown, but the love he himself let slip away.

He was willing to stop that wedding. He was willing to get you back. Even if it cost him his life.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[starry-bi-sky]

ive been hesitating to ask this bc youve been on a roll with the clone^2au (which i am frothing over) but could i poke you for some childhood friend au? bc GOD i wanna see how danny reacts to reuniting w jason or how the rest of the batfam react to learning jason never told danny of his resurrection or wondering if dannys gonna put jokers dead body on a display/offering to jasons grave. i havent been normal about this since i first read it and was wondering. thank you for your writing.

RAAAAHHHH DON'T BE HESITANT I AM JUST AS FERAL OVER MY CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AU AS I AM WITH CLONE^2 I AM DELIGHTED BY THIS. Like.,,,, i literally love them,,, so much. I can't listen to The Crane Wives without thinking of them.

(which is my fault - the ao3 fic of them has literally only crane wives lyrics for each chapter title and summary (posted AND the ones not written) so of course im gonna associate with them.)

(if you wanna listen to some of their songs while thinking of cfau here are my recommendations: "Once & for All", "Here I Am", "Hollow Moon" is a Danny AND Jason song to me, this would be my go-to song for an animatic of CFAU if i had the skills for it. "Tongues and Teeth", "Curses" and "take me to war" is a heavy cfau danny song to me, and of course, "the moon will sing")

Like they're BEST friends dude, they're two sides of the same coin and when they were kids they would do this thing where their 'fingers crossed'/'double-crossed' was them hooking their index fingers in the fingers crossed gesture.

and i'm actually currently rewriting my original post into a more fic-like format, and when I'm done I'll post it on here under the cfau tag - with the original post still in tact. But its,,, gonna be so long dude,,,, the original behemoth was just over 9000 words,,, and I've written 3k words already of the new one and we haven't even reached Jason and Danny reuniting at the gala yet,,, i need to get back to that,,,

and then to answer your questions!! god im almost hesitant to answer because i dont wanna spoil the little fic i had planned for it but also like,, its not like im gonna spoil everything, right? and answering the questions isnt the same as writing the scene down so!!

i love danny and jason's reuniting, like i've thought about it SO much and I've thought about it happening after Danny kills the Joker. I know the reveal could have been before that, and it could have been equally just as dramatic but like??? Thematically, doing it after danny kills the joker is SO good. To me at least.

Because like?? Jason's been in somewhat denial about danny's plan to kill the joker for months. ever since danny told him that he wanted to at the gala. And from Jason's pov its not even technically a plan. He sees his best friend for the first time after five years and his best friend still isn't over his death. He hasn't stepped foot in Gotham since his funeral and now suddenly he's here.

And he's still so full of grief over his death that he tells a masked vigilante that he's going to kill the guy that did it, who lives in said masked vigilante's city. And danny's got that look in his eyes that Jason knows so well that means he's being serious. And yet he still doesn't know if he should believe him or not.

And then he does. Danny kills him. And Jason can't fucking believe it. And when he goes and sees Danny, Danny's hands are still covered in blood. And that reunion? God like a fucking firework show. Danny's so fucking angry, and pissed, and hurt, and so goddamn overjoyed that he's alive and here that he sends them both to the ground, and if he doesn't calm down he's gonna take out the power in a five block radius.

there's just so, so much yelling on Danny's end. And then so much crying, first from Danny and then them both. because god, you're alive. you're here. i've missed you so much. i'm never letting you out of my sights again.

and Joker's death! God I don't want to actually say too much about that, but the way I have it set up thematically makes me actually not want danny to take any part of the joker with him as an offering. and he may actually forego that particular ghost etiquette and offer something else as an offering to Jason in substitute to not bringing him the Joker's heart/head/ritualistic body part.

Because you know what the last thing a man whose been spending the last two decades of his life building himself up to be larger than life would want? A death that's unremarkable. :) and that's all i'll put on the matter for now.

and the batfam!! they technically already know that jason hasn't told danny he was resurrected, and plenty of them have mixed feelings on them. largely bruce and dick i think, considering they saw firsthand how close jason and danny were when they were kids.

Dick was honestly surprised at first when he found out that Jason hadn't told Danny he was alive - and on one hand he understands the reasoning for it, and on the other hand he isn't sure if it was such a good idea. Especially after he sees Danny again after he arrives back in Gotham and sees just how badly Jason's death was still affecting him. But it's not like he's going to try and convince Jason to tell him - he can make his own choices, even if Dick has questions about them.

Bruce has much the same thoughts as Dick, so there's not really much to add here other than he might bring it up once or twice to Jason like, vaguely. And then immediately drops it when Jason shuts him down. He might actually somewhat...?? prefer that Jason hasn't told Danny because that raises a lot of questions and could jeopardize their identities. However, again, Jason can make his own choices and there's not much Bruce can do about it other than disapprove from afar.

Tim who knew of Danny from stalking the Wayne family shares similars sentiments of being surprised that Jason didn't tell Danny, but again, yeah, understands the thought process to some extent. Doesn't bring it up ever.

Everyone else who hadn't seen firsthand how close Danny and Jason are don't really have much opinion on it -- Jason didn't tell his best friend he was alive, great, he also didn't tell them either so it's not like its that much of a surprise. It would've been more of a surprise to them if Jason had told Danny before he told Bruce and co. Damian may make a comment or two about Jason not telling Danny, but its not about how he can't believe he didn't tell him or anything like it.

[nanamiswidow]

a little nanami x reader smut for funsies.

an: i've never posted my writing on tumblr sooo a lil nervous about this. & its been so long since ive written smut, v rusty. i was also testing myself in the beginning to try and not use dialogue bc i feel like i use it too much so the beginning may be extra garbo. if this doesn't do well, pretend it didn't happen. boarder credit as well <3 the purple stars & the mdni

word count: 1,497

cw: (sleepy in the first half) unprotected sex (p in v), singular gendered term (kento calls reader 'sweet girl'), hair pulling, dirty talk, creampie, garbo smut (?) idk (if i missed any pls lemme know)

It was 1am by the time he finally stepped foot into the shared apartment. Nanami knew he wasn’t going to be greeted by you, but there were a few things out of place that let him know you had tried your hardest to stay up. The living room tv still displayed a quieted movie, a few lights still lit, and the person of the hour snoozing peacefully on the couch albeit looking a bit uncomfortable in their position.

He loosened his yellow tie as he wandered through the apartment, switching off the rest of the lights, and eventually making his way back towards the living room. He reached over, his fingers brushing your hair out of your face as he turned off the screen. You stirred just enough to catch a glimpse of the man before you which forced you out of your sleep almost entirely. You graced him with a sleepy smile which he was quick to return. You mumbled something about trying your hardest to stay awake until he came back, but he shook his head, his fingers finding your hair again to successfully move it completely from your face.

Nanami coaxed you up, finally wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. Despite having just woken up, you didn’t hesitate to find his tie, your face turning to concentration, a very sleepy version of it, as you undid it completely. It brought a sigh to him once your fingers moved to the first few buttons of his blue dress shirt. There was a comment about how tired he looked and he showed no effort to fight the accusations, leaning forward to press his face into your neck which was confirmation enough for you. There was a deep inhale from his end, taking in the scent that was just completely you. He could tell you had taken a shower before you had laid in wait for him. It brought him immediate comfort. You exhaled a laugh, your fingers burying themselves into his hair as you returned the physical affection. 

Relocating to the bedroom didn’t take any kind of effort. You reluctantly allowed him to disappear into the bathroom, he promised you a quick shower as you climbed into bed. He kept his promise, reappearing ten minutes later, completely ready for bed. If his attire hadn’t said so, the look on his face definitely did. 

Now, Nanami was ready to climb into bed himself. Sleep was not far off and he was looking forward to getting some shut eye. The second he got comfortable, he reached over and you didn’t waste any time snuggling up to him. You were met with the smell of his own conditioner and soap, smells that just instantly reminded you of him. You hummed in pure bliss with your nose pressed up against his cheek. 

Nanami was unphased by the closeness and, in fact, you weren’t close enough. One large hand dipped beneath the covers, his fingers finding your thigh to bring your one leg over his waist as he brought you flush against him once again. His hand lingered, fingertips pressing into the soft skin, and his thumb began to lazily caress your thigh. It was such an innocent thing, maybe even mindless, trying to coax the both of you into sleep faster, but it was doing the opposite.

Eventually, you sat up, straddling his waist now. He let out a huff, he didn’t want to deny you anything, but he made the argument of how late it was and how tired you looked. You scoffed, if anything, he was the one with the dark bags under his eyes, but you reassured him. Leaning down and pulling him into a kiss finally for the first time that night. The way Nanami held onto your waist was definitely contradicting his earlier statements. The kiss was innocent at first until you licked your way into his mouth which caused his grip on you to tighten. Soon enough, he was forcing you to rock your hips into him. The movements were slow, far too concentrated on the way the other tasted, until his grip on you was borderline painful.

Nanami leaned his head back as you pressed kisses into his cheek and down to his neck. Your fingers reached between the two of you as your fingers felt for the waistband of his pants, he assured you it wasn’t necessary, even apologizing for starting something he probably couldn’t finish. You shushed him, reassuring him with a few gentle kisses, watching his head dip back once again as your fingers wrapped around his cock. 

“Let me take care of you…” You whispered against him before pulling him into another kiss as you lifted your hips up. Discarding your panties before your hand wrapped around his cock again, running the tip through your slick folds a few times, whimpers spilling out of you as you did so. Nanami watched as you teased the both of you, his fingers running up your thighs before grasping onto your shirt, bunching it up so as to not block his view. He wanted to watch you sit on his cock. Wanted to watch the way you took him in and to watch your face contort with pleasure.

And you didn’t disappoint. You lowered yourself down onto him, the both of you gasping as your bodies connected and Nanami watched your eyebrows furrow and watched you bite down onto your lower lip. And you wasted no time, almost immediately beginning to move up and down on his length with ease. You were so warm… so wet. Just for him. 

A breathy moan escaped your lips as you leaned forward, burying your face into Nanami’s neck, your hips keeping a slow pace. One of Nanami’s arms wrapped around your upper body while the other held onto your hip, coaxing you to continue your slow movements. He buried his own face into your neck, breath hot against your ear, and inhaling your familiar scent.

“Missed you…” Nanami whispered into your ear, his hold on you tightening to better emphasize it.

You felt yourself melt further into him at the sound of his voice. The two of you had only been apart for a few hours, but you had missed him just as much and he could feel it in the way your body clung to him. Those few hours were usually spent worrying about him and it was always a sigh of relief seeing him come home in one piece.

“Just like that…” His voice breathy now as his hand tightened on your hip. “Feels so good…”

He felt your inner walls clench around his cock, making the both of you moan and causing your hips to falter in their lazy movements. Nanami continued his whispered praises into your ear in between shaky breaths and sighs of his own until your body tensed up, feeling that all too familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach, as you came around him.

The man beneath you didn’t give you any time to recover. His broad arms wrapped around your body tighter as he planted his feet on the bed and fucked up into you, spurred on by the feeling of your orgasm, the feeling of your pussy wrapped so tightly around him. His pace was brutal, the tiredness he felt just a few moments ago completely gone, replaced with the need to have you, his fingers digging into your sides. The overstimulation of it all was overwhelming, but intoxicating at the same time. 

“That’s my sweet girl… Always take me so well…” Nanami whispered out against you, one of his hands coming up to grab locks of your hair, pulling your face out from being hidden against him. “Tell me how badly you want my cum…” He continued, feeling his own orgasm building up. The sounds you were making, the creamy ring around the base of his cock, and the sound of skin against skin was becoming all too much. 

“I know you can do it, baby…” Nanami encouraged, emphasizing his words with a small tug of your hair. He could see the words just on the tip of your tongue.

“Need you to fill me up… want every drop…” You finally managed. He was utterly satisfied with your answer, proud even. He let your head drop back down to his neck as he wrapped his arms around you again, tighter, to finish fucking you properly. 

It didn’t take long for his thrusts to falter, a few curses escaping his lips under his breath as he filled you with his milky seed. The feeling of him filling you never seemed to get old. Once you both caught your breath, you lifted your head up, giving him a sleepy smile, one he didn’t hesitate to mirror. One of his hands reached up to caress your cheek before pulling you into a soft kiss that had you melting into him all over again.

[outofmydepthatapublicbeach]

hiii idk if u have your requests open but could you write julien x reader based on lacy by olivia rodrigo?

like maybe julien is so jealous of reader but actually wants her (like enemies to lovers kinda thing)

jj chats: i am so sorry it took me a couple days to get to this!!! ive been very busy with school! i loved this request and i hope i did it justice!!! love you anon!! <33

warnings: RPF, use of y/n, reader is a musician/famous, reader cries

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

Julien wouldn’t say she hated you, no she wouldn’t go that far. But when anyone would ask about you she’d scoff and change the subject right away. Anything to cover up the butterflies that flourished in her belly at the sound of your name.

“Aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of Hell?”

She would say your music was bland, in reality, she thought the lyrics were thought-provoking and better than anything she’d ever written. The public commented on how she didn’t follow you back on social media. She didn’t follow you because she didn't like that burning sensation she got in her heart when she saw your posts with your friends. She especially hated the photos of you and that girl, arms wrapped around each other, smiling at the camera like the happiest people alive.

“I linger all the time, watchin', hidden in plain sight”

You were close with Lucy, you two being long-time friends, which meant that Julien had to endure your presence. At get-togethers she sits away from you, observing your interactions with her friends. She’d feel a burn when you laughed at their jokes.

“I see you everywhere, the sweetest torture one could bear”

Eventually, the two of you would have to talk to one another. When left alone in a room one time, you walked up to her, smiling wide. It was a smile Julien had seen plastered on magazine covers, a smile people fawned over. Julien completely understood why, even when she didn't want to.

“I hear you and Lucy are close, I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself before, I’m (Y/N).”

Julien looked at you in awe. How was it, not a hair was out of place? That your outfit wasn’t covered in wrinkles or dog hair? How was it fair someone could look so gorgeous, be so perfect? Julien plastered a fake smile on her face, not reaching a hand out to shake as she knew hers were very clammy due to her nerves, “I’m Julien.” Her tone was bored like she couldn't wait to get away from you.

“I feel your compliments like bullets on skin”

Julien was excited to hear that Lucy planned a dinner to celebrate their Grammy wins, she thought that maybe it would be nice to be the one being celebrated. Until she heard your name mentioned. She knew the night would be difficult, she still couldn’t figure you out, couldn’t understand you. 

At dinner that night, everyone gave a toast to the boys. Compliments were spewed every which way. When you stood to speak, you locked eyes with Julien, giving her your award-winning smile. 

You began to congratulate the boys, your speech was lengthy as you talked a bit about Lucy and Phoebe. All Julien could focus on was your lips and then the words directed towards her, “I haven’t known Julien long but I can tell she is a dedicated musician, an amazing friend, and is very very pretty.” Your words dug daggers into her skin, but it was a pain she loved.

“I care, I care, I care, like ribbons in your hair, my stomach's all in knots”

After the main course at dinner, you had excused yourself, a phone call was what you said. You ran out of the restaurant, dealing with whatever call you got alone. Julien hesitated a few minutes but ultimately excused herself as well after you did not return right away. She felt an overwhelming desire to make sure you were okay. It scared the hell out of her. Your friends gave each other knowing looks.

You made it outside, and looked around, spotting you on a bench, head in your hands. She cautiously approached you, her stomach tied. Once she was close she asked, “Are you okay?” 

You looked up, startled, and as if by instinct you smiled at Julien, using the backs of your hands to wipe off your tears. “Yeah-” your voice broke, “yeah Julien I’m alright! Thanks for-” another break, “for checking on me.” 

You weren’t fine, and Julien knew. She walked towards you, then sat next to you. You faced her, trying to keep your composure before the dam blew and you started to sob. To Julien’s surprise, you immediately reached out, grabbing her jacket and crying into her shoulder. 

“People are people, but it's like you're made of angel dust”

She tried to get away but instead found herself wrapping her arms around you carefully. Scared of your fragile state, scared in a moment you'd be gone and out of her reach, scared she’d hold you too tight and crush you into dust.

“Lacy, oh, Lacy, I just loathe you lately”

The moment passed, and Julien bore witness to you regaining your composure at a rapid speed. In the seconds you went from sobbing to smiling, ready to rejoin your friends she wanted you to cry again, if anything just to hold you for a little bit longer. In that moment she abhorred you. How could you go from a mess to perfect? Why couldn’t you stay sad like the rest of us for a minute more? Why couldn’t she be like you? 

“And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you”

Julien stayed behind and watched as you walked back towards the restaurant, but before you reached the doors, an elderly couple was also approaching. Julien gazed as you jogged to get to the door before they reached it, and then you opened the door for them, smiling as they walked in. Julien felt her heart swell, and that's when she knew she was in for it.

“I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you”

 You turned to Julien, waving her to follow you. In an instant Julien was up. Her legs worked double time to catch up to you as you held the door open for the both of you, you reached your hand out, waiting for her. 

As Julien made it to the door you grabbed her wrist, she twisted her head in order to face you properly. “Thank you for sitting with me Julien, I really appreciated it,” you smiled, squeezing her arm. You pulled her inside the heated restaurant, “let’s get back to our friends, they must have thought we’d run off together.”

You laughed. Julien laughed. 

Julien followed you back to the table, sitting back down in her seat. She soon realized what she just did and scolded herself for listening to you so obediently. She was so confused at all the feeling coursing through her, so angry at herself for letting her fall so hard and so fast. Her nails dug into the palms of her hands until she looked up and locked eyes with you. You smiled at her as you always did, and when her fingers loosened and her heartbeat boomed she realized that maybe jealousy wasn’t quite what she was feeling anymore. This feeling happened to start with the infamous letter L.

[star-writes-sometimes]

bullying and cuddles

word count: 2.3k

cw: fem reader, reader implied to have anxiety cause im projecting, swearing, bullying (affectionate), fluff, idiots in love, probably ooc tangerine but whatever

a/n: i needed domestic fluff, is this similar to other stuff ive written? yes but i dont care i love domestic fluff. i geniuenly was debating posting this because i kinda hate it but yknow c'est la vie

---—---

you emerged from the safe house bathroom after brushing your teeth in an old tshirt and pyjama shorts. both of the boys bedroom doors were closed and you could hear the thomas the tank engine theme song coming from lemon’s room. 

the door of your room was open and your suitcase was on the ground, clothes messily thrown all over the place. you had been here for about four days now so you were settled in as much as you could be in a new environment.

you and the twins were staking out a place and it was long and tedious, by this point you were thoroughly bored and ready for this to end so you could go back home. you couldn’t stand another night in the cold unfamiliar bed. 

so, instead you knocked on tangerine’s door.

“come in.”

you opened the door and walked in, quickly shutting it behind you and leaning against it, facing tangerine. he was sat up in his bed reading a book. he was wearing a plain tshirt and pyjama pants. he looked comfy, more relaxed than he usually was. the quilt was folded neatly at the end of his bed and his suitcase on the floor was immaculately organised, a stark contrast to how your room looked.

“hi,” he said smiling at you.

“hi,” you returned the smile.

“cute pyjamas.”

you were wearing a faded marvin the martian tshirt and pyjama shorts covered in little oranges, “they’re oranges.”

“you sure you didn’t wear them just for me, love?” he smiled wider at you, cocking his head to the side slightly, “cause you look adorable.”

“why would i wear them for you, you’re my third favourite person in this house,” you scoffed.

“are you putting yourself above me?”

“i know my worth,” you squinted at the book he had in his hands, “whatcha reading?”

“uhh,” he glanced down at the page he was on, “the hunger games.”

“really?” 

“why are you surprised?”

“i don’t know,” you laughed slightly, “i can only image you reading old or pretentious books.”

“are you calling me pretentious?”

you snapped your fingers in realisation, “tolstoy, you seem like the tolstoy type have you read anna karenina?”

“well, yes i have but i don’t just read old books.”

“so, hunger games.”

“yeah, it’s good criticism on violence in capitalistic societies.”

“i don’t think professional assassins should have a say on violence in capitalistic societies.”

he rolled his eyes, “then i enjoy the commentary on consumerism.”

you glanced at the gold jewellery on the bedside table, “i don’t think you can have a say on that either.”

he followed you eye line, “oh fuck off.”

you laughed, “i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” you shifted around slightly in your spot against the door.

“did you come in here for a reason or just to take the piss out of me?”

you thought back to your lifeless room, “i was bored and i couldn’t annoy lemon.”

“why not, you’d probably enjoy his company more than mine,” his eyes drifted back down to his book.

“he’s watching thomas and there’s only so much of that i can take.”

he nodded, “understandable.”

there was a pause and you fidgeted with your hands nervously. you didn’t notice tangerine staring at you intently, contemplating what he should do.

“come sit with me,” he gestured to the empty spot next to him.

“are you sure?” you hesitated, bringing up your hand to chew on your nails.

“‘course love.”

you slowly moved over and sat on the bed next to him, keeping distance between you both on the queen sized bed.

it was silent again and you pulled your knees up against your chest, resting your chin on your knee.

“what part are you up to?” you asked.

“the interviews with caesar.” he turned his head and focused on you, noting your position and the gap you put between the both of you, “have you read it before?”

“back when i was a teenager but not since then.” you avoided his eyes, feeling anxious about the sharp eye contact, “have you read it before?”

“yeah, i’ve read it a few times.”

you just hummed in response. despite the nervous thoughts running through your head it felt better being in here with tangerine than being alone in your room. it was better having anxiety over being alone with the guy you were crushing on than the emptiness you would have felt by yourself in your room. 

“come here love.” he said softly.

“what?” your eyes snapped up to him.

“sit next to me properly.” 

you moved slightly closer, still leaving space between you both.

tangerine rolled his eyes and put his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, “i’m not gonna fucking bite ya love, you can sit next to me.”

you scrunched your nose up at him, “i just didn’t want to get cooties.”

“you think i have cooties?”

“yup you have phytophthora gummosis.”

“what the fuck are you talking about?”

you laughed and leant into him more, “it's a disease that affects citrus trees.”

he tried not to smile, “how long have you been waiting to make that joke.”

“a few weeks,” you smiled brightly, “i did research on citrus trees.”

“just so you could take the piss out of me?”

“i had to, you look cute when you’re all annoyed and scrunch your eyebrows up.” you reached up and run over one of his eyebrows with your thumb.

“don’t call me cute.”

“why not? you are.”

“i’m meant to be intimidating.”

“how could anyone be scared of you? you’re reading the hunger games.”

“very funny, i can be scary and enjoy the hunger games.”

“are you team peeta or gale?”

“definitely peeta, he was smart and a romantic,” tangerine said, like he had thought about it a lot before.

“oh so you’re a romantic that adds to your scariness.”

“you’re bullying me, you’re a bully,” he pinched your side, enjoying the way you squirmed into him.

you yawned and put your head on his shoulder. he repositioned his arm that was around your shoulder and started stroking your hair.

“are you tired darling?”

you blinked sluggishly, “yeah… i should probably go-”

you started to get up but was stopped and cut off by tangerine.

“no, stay,” he held onto you, “you just relax.”

you bite your lip anxiously but try to relax into him again. you stared at the book in his hand, studying the mockingjay symbol on the cover. 

“what’s on your mind pet?”

you felt your neck heat up at the unfamiliar nickname, “uh can you maybe read to me?”

“you want me to read to you?”

you nodded.

“you sure you’ll be able to understand with the accent?”

“you’re british not an alien, i can understand you fine.”

“okay.” he pulled you close, you settled with your head on his chest and his arm comfortably around you. he smiled down at you, silently grateful that you couldn’t see the way he was looking at you, “you ready?”

“yeah,” 

“okay darling,” he took his focus off you and onto the book, “i’m still in a daze for the first part of peeta’s interview. he has the audience from the get-go, though; i can hear them laughing, shouting out. he plays up the baker’s son thing, comparing tributes to the bread from their districts.”

“what would your strategy be in the interviews?” you asked.

“i’m not sure.”

“i don’t think you could pull off the charming thing.”

“wow, thanks love your doing wonders for my self esteem,” he replied sarcastically.

you smiled, “no that’s not what i meant, you’re plenty charming, i just think you’d be better as one of those career tributes everyone is scared of.”

“i thought you said i wasn’t scary?”

“shhh that was minutes ago you should’ve forgotten about that by now, just keep reading.”

“right sorry,” he laughed slightly, “then he has a funny anecdote about the perils of the capital showers. ‘tell me, do i still smell like roses?’ he asks caesar, and then there's a whole run where they take turns sniffing each other that brings down the house.”

“maybe you would be charming, you always smell really nice.”

“thank you, darling,” he kissed your forehead and pulled you impossibly closer, “you smell nice too.”

you smiled and adjusted your position so you could hold onto his shirt. 

“i’m coming back into focus when caesar asks him if he has a girlfriend back home.” he continued, “peeta hesitates, then gives him an unconvincing shake of his head. ‘handsome lad like you. there must be some special girl. come on what’s her name?’ says caesar. peeta sighs. ‘well there is this one girl. i’ve had a crush on her ever since i can remember. but i’m pretty sure she didn’t know i was alive before the reaping.’”

tangerine glanced down at you half surprised and half disappointed you didn’t interrupt again. he liked listening to you talk.

your breathing had evened and your eyes had closed. you’d fallen asleep against him. he bookmarked the book and placed it on his side table. he carefully reached down, grabbed the quilt and pulled it over the both of you.

“goodnight, love.” he kissed your cheek gently.

— 

lemon woke up the next morning and stumbled into the kitchen, prepared to see tangerine already up and cooking breakfast for the three of you. he was shocked to find the kitchen empty, no trace of you or tangerine. 

he looked over at both your bedroom doors and saw yours open and empty. weird. you were usually the last awake, having to be woken up by one of the twins.

lemon walked over to tangerine’s door and opened it, “hey bruv have you seen-” he cut himself off looking down at the scene in front of him.

you were asleep in tangerine’s arms and he was holding you close. he was awake and staring down at you, playing with your hair and gently tracing your features as you slept.

lemon snickered, “whats going on here, then?”

“shut the fuck up,” tangerine immediately fired back but lemon knew it was less harsh than it usually was. despite all the teasing tangerine knew he’d get, he was happy.

“this is cute, it really is.” lemon quipped, “but i have no clue how to make breakfast so please get up soon.”

“i’m not interrupting her sleep just cause your fucking incompetent.”

“fine, just don’t blame me if i burn this place down trying to make toast,” lemon started to leave.

“stop, just wait ten minutes then i’ll make you some fucking food.”

“thanks bruv, really appreciate it.”

“whatever.”

lemon left and tangerine was alone with you again. 

tangerine moved your hair away from your face, “sweetheart?” he kissed your forehead, “if you don’t wake up soon the smoke alarm will probably wake you.”

you stretched slightly and snuggled into tangerine more, “this is nicer than the way lemon wakes me up.”

“if we don’t get up soon lemon is gonna try to cook,” he held your face and kissed you cheek gently.

“we can’t have that he’ll probably poison us all,” you sat up and rubbed your eyes, “why is your bed comfier than mine?”

“because i actually make mine?” he got up and stared down at you still wrapped in the blanket.

“ha ha,” you laughed dryly and fell back into the bed.

you closed your eyes again and settled back into the bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin. it really was a comfortable bed. 

your peaceful rest was interrupted by getting lifted into the air.

your eyes flew open as tangerine picked you up, carrying you into the kitchen. you wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tightly.

"what the fuck are you doing, you fucking numpty!?"

"you looked peaceful i didn't want to have to wake you again."

"well it didn't fucking work you twat."

"sorry, love," he set you down on the kitchen bench and kissed you cheek, "but you look cute when your annoyed."

you felt your face heat slightly and turned your face away from him.

"stop flirting and make me breakfast." lemon interrupted.

"you could say please, you wanker," tangerine snapped at him.

"please, make us breakfast, please, mr. fruit?" you said giving your best puppy dog eyes.

"for you, not for him, darling." 

you smiled, "thank you, tan."

“you’re a twat,” lemon added.

tangerine flipped lemon off and started making pancakes. you jumped off the kitchen bench and moved over to the kettle, checking it was full before boiling it.

“lemon, do you want a cuppa?”

“yeah,” lemon mumbled, distracted by his comic.

tangerine whacked lemon up the side of his head.

“yes please, sweetheart," lemon corrected himself.

“thanks lem,” you laughed slightly at the sibling abuse.

the kettle flicked off and you finished making the three cups of tea and handed one to lemon who smiled in thanks. you walked over to tangerine and placed one on the counter in front of him.

tangerine grabbed your waist and pulled you in for a kiss on the cheek, “thank you pet.”

you pulled away from him and started drinking your own cup, watching tangerine as he cooked and plated the golden pancakes.

“so did you two fuck last night?” lemon abruptly asked.

you choked on your tea and tangerines head snapped up to glare at him.

“no we slept together,” tangerine slowly replied.

lemon snorts, “i thought that was the same thing.”

“no you bellend we actually just slept, we were tired,” tangerine snapped.

you gulped down the rest of your tea and quickly placed your mug in the sink, “i’m gonna go shower boys, please save me some pancakes.” you smiled at the both and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

once you were gone lemon spoke up again, “you gonna tell her you love her yet?"

“shut up,” tangerine hissed, glancing at the shut bathroom door.

“she likes you too you know.”

tangerine didn’t respond for a few seconds, “really?”

“you’re in love with each other you both just fucking stupid.”

and for once tangerine didn’t feel the need to throw an insult back, he just reveled at the thought that you could like him too.

[ay0nha]

Some Unholy War | Theseus Scamander (II)

SUMMARY: You could feel the warmth of your frustration start in your chest, only to spread across your skin as goosebumps.  The windchill was harsh, but you appreciated the way Theseus noticed—always so attentive. His desires were written on his face; in any other circumstance, his jacket would become yours.

PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x f!reader  

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

WARNINGS: canon-typical things, smoking, angst, morally gray reader, mutual pining, semi enemies-to- lovers, always a protective Theseus, SLOW burn, etc.  

A/N: If you saw this originally posted...no you didn’t...I didn’t love the flashback I wrote, so I wrote a different one (which is semi-inspired by this post/idea because I love it, such accuracy @star-writes4​). Thank You @kalllistos for your patience with me <3 I have such a cute idea for the next chapter, so stay tuned hehehe...Let me know if you want to be tagged. Enjoy.

PART I, PART III, PART IV

— Years prior —

“You can join me inside, you know…” You spoke to your shadow, lighter illuminating your face in the dark alley. On your exhale, you continued your invitation, “...You’ll catch a cold out here.”

After a few heartbeats of hesitation and avoiding the growing puddles, Theseus came into the dingy reflection of the neon sign. “Not convinced my kind is welcomed…”

“Like that’s ever stopped you…” Your tinted lips perked. Theseus' apparel was enough to give away his position. Always so poised. “There are some people I’m sure you’re dying to meet...”

“I’m out of my jurisdiction here.” His hands remained in his pockets, a nervous tick that seemed to run in his family. It was a deceiving behavior, as it came across as a part of his confident stature. “...and overdue for a holiday.”

“Of course.”

Theseus’ hair perked at the humidity. The gel struggled to keep the curls at bay while rain pelted the architecture. The heavy pattern created a cool draft through the outside entryways and a whistling that challenged the music emanating from within the small club.

“Don’t look so stiff, Theseus.” You teased, but he had yet to seem very receptive. “You can be anyone you want here.”

He hummed with genuine nature that briefly peeked out. “And who are you tonight?”

Your eyes were always sharp, cutting through him easily. When you were kids, it was enough to scare him off, but Theseus became fortified. Yet, you knew how he worked just as well. He had a knack for easing you into a conversation riddled with hidden questions and desires. It was as if he softened the blow for something that he knew would end poorly.  Your frown began.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Unwavering in your response, you flicked the remnants of your cigarette into the street. Theseus swallowed his scoff at the action, but it only fueled your conviction. “Add it to my list of grievances.”

His gaze was determined, dancing around something obvious. The stack of papers on his desk most likely doubled in his absence. When he saw your name, he was ready to pass it off like any of the others. It hadn’t caught his attention until it ruminated in his mind so long that he spent hours digging through files to confirm that it really was you.

He reminisced about the old school days, expecting clues to reemerge to explain your behavior. Yet, all he could remember was how you were a few years younger—your nose always pointed to the sky in hopes of finding something more interesting than what was before you. The faded memories merged together the longer Theseus dwelled on them.

“You want to know what I think?” He prodded, waiting for your hum of encouragement.  You wore a dress made for dancing, and your lips were painted a sinfully alluring shade of red. Theseus almost succumbed to the distraction. “You’re someone out of their depth.”

There it is, you thought. The pleasantries would only last for so long until Theseus tallied your faults. You knew it was part of a greater protective character, but you’d evolved, and he favored ignoring your independence.

“Oh, Theseus…” You tutted with a sore smile, arms locked together with defensiveness. “...and here I thought you missed me.”

“What have you gotten yourself into?” He moved closer to you, trying to soothe your frown. Holding back from reaching out, Theseus persisted, “If you have a time-turner—

“We’re not in school anymore.” The argument felt juvenile, but you spat your words quickly, unwilling to meet your sentence. “I can handle myself.”

The situation was ironic due to how time ruled the very encounter. It was only a matter of time until Theseus latched onto the rumor that brought him here. And there was only so much time left before his warning would become a threat. The possession of such an item had added weight to your shoulders. It was a new sensation, and the buzz of adrenaline that came with it was irredeemable. It only worsened when you learned it came easily to you. It was a genuine skill.

You could feel the warmth of your frustration start in your chest, only to spread across your skin as goosebumps.  The windchill was harsh, but you appreciated the way Theseus noticed—always so attentive. His desires were written on his face; in any other circumstance, his jacket would become yours. But you cut him off before he could offer, clipping the argument with the truth.

“It is nice to see you, Theseus.” Just not like this, you omitted. “How’s Newt?”

“Still finding himself in all sorts of…well—you know how Newt…” His hands returned to his pockets as he shuffled slightly. “...those creatures…His creatures are doing well, I suppose…it’s always a fine way of passing time…”

Theseus wasn’t one to ramble nor participate seriously in small talk. Yet, with you mitigating the conversation, it was hard to ease back into what he had come for. Your change in topic wasn’t a distraction at all, just another dig at Theseus’ character.

“You should learn to take people more seriously.” You bit at your own defense veiled by his brother’s prospects. “Maybe then, you’d get what you want.”

The forgotten rain began to pick up. A soft spray that snuck past the protection of the awning begged for you to find warmth inside. You refused to curl into yourself. Instead, you pushed yourself off the brick wall to brush everything into the past.

“Enjoy your holiday, Theseus.”

“Look—” Stopped by your arm, Theseus paused with thought. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I know what I’m doing.” You were softer this time, but your furrowed brow still exposed your upset. But it relaxed as Theseus's hand trailed your arm to find your hand.

“I don’t doubt that.” He spoke earnestly.

Quietness followed the slight embrace that you broke after a small squeeze. The contact allowed Theseus to speak freely, but you wouldn’t listen to more. You knew what he would say, and that was enough.

“Let me buy you a drink.” You blamed the barflies stumbling out the door beside you for your sentimentality. Theseus gave you a tentative look you knew you could break. “Just the one…And if you’re lucky, I’ll tell you what I know.” It was a promise. “I’m feeling charitably inclined tonight.”

The tips of Theseus’ fingers continued to tingle despite their loneliness.  His pockets felt cold. “And why’s that?”

“I’ve met someone.”

— Present Day —

You hadn’t believed in love, and you were ready to carry that grudge—until him.

Avery Sinclair.

It wasn’t proper love, proving your skepticism in the emotion correctly. But it was the closest you’ve ever been, would ever be. He charmed you with his intelligence but decidedly made pearl dust a main ingredient in your relationship. It ensured your vision was so muddled you were willing to sacrifice yourself for him. Avery determined your demise before you could even pick up a scent.

The auror, he had told you. Rid us of him.

To this day, the memory was disillusioned by your coerced fidelity. The memory was more of an overlapping feeling. It was like your body wasn’t your own, stepping into an event without an invitation. You could still feel the heat of the fire you started and the desperation of your scream when you were pushed to your knees. Even then, you failed to remember things coherently.

Yet, when your vision finally cleared, only Aurors surrounded you. Theseus fronted the brigade with a grimace that reflected his disdain. You hadn’t known the expression was a mix of pity and guilt due to the fact that his name would be inherently tied to your public conviction. You just felt like you could finally breathe without a struggle.

“Did you hear me?” Theseus prompted you again, pulling you out of a shared past. He noted your gaze drifting, a thousand-yard stare replacing a genuine exchange. “Listen carefully; we only have so much time until—

“This is what your promotion got you.” You observed the spacious office you’d been in. Your tone asked if it was worth it. Your value was reflected in the fine leather seats, the expensive wood desk, and the plaque that named Theseus’ higher position.

Those who transported you expected catastrophe, but you entrusted your silence. You were calculated enough to know when to hold your tongue, but once in the atrium of the Ministry, you could no longer sit so stoically.

Theseus went to say your name, imploring you to focus, but you only challenged him. He held your stare just as strongly, “You underestimate the scale of this.”

“As if that matters...” You frowned only to follow with deeply rooted sarcasm, “...in a system that is so fair and competent.”

Your words were your only defense against something so factual. Although you were in danger, it had yet to actualize and frighten you as it had Theseus. To him, you were ready to give up, engage entirely with the peril Sinclair would unleash. Your indifference only confirmed his sentiments.

Theseus began to pace. With each step, he attempted to restrain his insults. How you looked at him only provoked a wave of pent-up anger, “You have always been so cruel…”

“If I'm cruel, then what does that make you, Theseus?” You were ready for the conversation; your thoughts honed and practiced. “If I'm cruel, then you must be something much worse.”

“I'm trying to help you.” His voice was low, afraid those whispering about your presence—capture—would overhear his admission. In time, you’d learn that his words were genuine, that he was risking more than you realized.

“No.” You spoke definitively, head shaking with refutation. “What you do is selfish. You help with a suffocating hand—

“You don’t get to make this my fault. You chose him.” The silence to follow echoed his regret. You eyed his uncharacteristic agitation as he tried to rectify his mistake.

“Theseus!” A voice boomed, entering the office. Torquil Travers. “There you are, now—This is her?” With a passing look of disgust, he let out another booming statement. “Have you located Sinclair?”

“Yes, sir.” Theseus’ bluntness evaporated the previous argument. Yet, his eyebrow twitched. The micro expression revealed too much. His body contradicted his words.

You rolled your eyes at the formality. After all these years, Theseus still couldn’t shake the nickname that followed him during his younger years—Schoolboy hero.

Suck up, you thought.

“Ensure this gets done.” Travers’ attitude indicated he felt the time in Theseus’ office was already wasted. “Quietly.”

Theseus held a tight-lipped smile. “Of course, sir.”

Time, too, was his concern, and it became obvious the longer Travers remained in his office. You wanted answers of your own, but you could be patient as there were more pressing desires.

“These come off.” You said evenly, gaining the attention of those in the room. Yet, Travers looked around as if your voice was foreign and your presence was no more than a nuisance.

His posture straightened with arrogance, prompting Theseus, “Handle that.”

That. Your position was clarified. You were no longer a person, no longer a witch. You were—that. Theseus felt ill, agreeing once again to his boss’ request before he left. Theseus intentionally kept his back to you, trying to form the words that explained what he had to do—what he was assigned to do. Handling that meant telling you the cuffs were to stay on.

Emotion flooded your chest; you missed your isolation. Solitude made things simpler. Though now there was no choice. You were to be bait; you were meant to lure Sinclair in. It was Theseus’ idea, only as a form of protection and to bide time for him to figure out something more promising.

With a hand tucked in his waistband and the other rubbing across his jaw in thought, Theseus stared ahead at his desk. He seemed at a loss and could only resort to honesty. “I want you to trust me.”

You did. You had. You relied on him in the past. At one point, you would have considered him the only one that had the privilege. You thought he had understood that. Your relationship had naturally ebbed and flowed. It was required when you were such opposites, but mutual respect helped it remain.

Theseus promised he wouldn’t follow you that night, but that was the same night he was no longer a man of his word. For your own good, his own remark nauseated him. It had felt so right at the moment, a moment of long-coming justice, but it was not only a trap for you but for him.

He would never fall for it again. With a weak rasp of the knuckles to his desk, Theseus’ mind settled.  His side was chosen.

Coming close, he crouched down to your seated level. You remained still, his motions far too interesting to pull away. He began trailing your arms until he reached the metal at your wrists. “...You’re not safe with them on.”

You'd grown so accustomed to the weight of the bracelets on your wrists. They weighed you down in every way you could imagine. You learned to move with them smartly, using your magic so strategically that it felt like a chore rather than an extension of yourself. And now, seeing your wrists empty, you fought off a misplaced nostalgia.

You had never meant to become the villain. You just didn't know what else to do.

Theseus watched as your eyes welled with emotion, knowing you’d never let actual tears form. He thought to move forward and bring any sort of comfort to the situation, but you moved quicker than the thought was formed.

“No!–Don’t—”

His breath was lost, the world around him dissolving into a deep color. Your hand gripped his collar, but it felt like he was being pressed hard from all directions. The journey was nauseating and familiar. The surroundings no longer reflected the Ministry, the marble flooring was replaced by puddles, and the air was no longer crisp but heavy with humidity.

Your laugh bubbled, starting slowly with the feeling of surprise that evolved into pure joy. You refused to be tracked by your magic, so you typically abstained. The feeling of magic again was like a feeling of renewal—an electricity that scratched a phantom itch.

You glanced at a flushed Theseus, “...Remember this place?”

[nevernotapocalypse]

Ive never posted or written anything before this so apologies on any mistakes…

I got inspired by a fanfic i read awhile ago and the gears wouldn’t stop turning until it churned out the following fic

Lovely Bubbly (Death x Reader)

Death seldom rested when not working for the council, but in the rare moments the pale rider took long needed rests, he spent it with you.

It smelt nice in here, late autumn and something sweet but unfamiliar

The water was warm, it made sounds when he moved

Pouring rain outside too, the droplets covered the sound of anything nearby

Was there something nearby, did he need to check, he had to get up, what if there was danger?

How long had the pale rider been here?

“Death, can you lift your arm for me?” Your voice rang through his frenzied mind like fire through ice. It didn’t matter, you were asking something of him and he obliged without hesitation.

Death lifted his arm, slowly, carefully with almost sluggish thought. He was safe, he was calm, with someone who actually cared beyond his siblings. It's been months since this routine started, sprung from playful teasing. Things spiraled into something Death would never admit to being his most peaceful and favorite time of (time period)

“You seem sluggish today, has the soap finally reached your brains, mi muerte?” Snickering, you leaned closer to Death, giving the horseman a quizzical look. “

———

This is all I got, I’ll finish it…eventually

[mybiasisexo]

Heey! For the drabble game: 7 & 32 with Lay 🥰

Fighter 🔪

Genre: angst | obsession!au | xexo!zyx Pairing: Lay x f.Reader Length: 2.2k Warnings: language | mentions of blood & death

a/n: im too burnt out for a sequel sorry! I cannot believe this is the FIRST x-exo au ive ever written!!!! xing fits this concept so well ugh we're always being robbed 😔 and its extra long because my man deserrrrrves it!!!!!!! as always thank you for requesting and youve been so so sos o patient. I made sure that this was the next thing i posted 🙏 hope it finds you quickly 🥰

DRABBLE GAME | MASTERLIST

You awoke with a loud gasp, lurching upright.

Working on pure instinct, you reached for the discarded knife beside you, holding it out as you sensed danger. You blinked the blurriness in your vision away as you tried to catch your bearings.

“That’s not a good idea,” a gentle caress of a voice warned.

“Yixing.” You relaxed once realizing who accompanied you. You wiped the liquid dripping into your eyes, pulling back to see dark blood staining your gloves.

Vision fully cleared, you saw the man sitting against a wall across from you. One of his legs was stretched out before him, the other bent at the knee for him to rest an arm on. He appeared rather comfortable for someone amidst a battle he despised.

He clicked his tongue. “Not quite, Darling.”

Dread filled you as the reality of his words dawned on you and you sprang to your feet, ignoring the wave of dizziness and the scattering of black dots across your vision from getting up too quickly. You held the knife you carried more firmly, prepared to fight.

“Hey now,” he started as he slowly raised to his feet. “Is that any way to treat the man that just healed you?”

You hesitated as the memory of getting stabbed came back to you. It was a fatal blow, right in the side of your stomach. You’d reassured your team you were fine and to continue without you. It took some coaxing, but after promising to send Yixing back to help, they retreated. Once they left, you crawled into this abandoned room, knowing that Yixing would be too late to save anyone once he arrived.

Yet, you were alive.

With your free hand, you checked your side, being met with smooth skin. The knife in your hand clattered to the ground. You couldn’t hold it after realizing it was used to kill you.

“You saved me.” It wasn’t a question. The man that wore Yixing’s face tilted his head curiously. The action left you uneasy, feeling like helpless prey in the presence of an apex predator. “Why would you do that?”

A cruel grin stretched his lips. “Consider it me returning the favor.”

“You’re Lay,” you questioned. You already knew the answer, but needed him to confirm it.

That wicked smile of his grew. “They also call me Subject Ten.”

'They' being those who worked for the Red Force. A large group of scientists who were working on Operation Blood Orange, the illegal experimentation on innocent people. Those people became your friends, when you helped them escape years ago. They weren’t too thrilled when they found out the red force somehow held on to their DNA, allowing the creation of cloning them. Being an unfamiliar face, you were able to infiltrate their ranks, disguising as a nurse. For eight months, you spied on their illegal practicing in an attempt to discover what they were planning to do.

The clones were uncanny to their donors. Their features, voices, and powers were exactly the same, but that was where the similarities ended. Unlike the originals, these men lacked empathy, and only expressed a sick joy when causing harm to others, even each other.

Subject Ten, or Lay as most of the doctors addressed him as, was the most compliant of them all. The others liked to taunt and terrify, putting up fights whenever you had to check their vitals. Never Lay. He’d just silently watch you. You found that far more sinister than the outward hostility the other’s met you with. When Lay first spoke to you, it was startling. He sounded so much like Yixing, it was easy to forget that wasn’t actually him. Yixing was a kind and compassionate soul who only saw the good in people, even one’s who barely had any left in them. He was far from a fighter, it made him sick to cause pain. Healing was in his nature. Life was what he cherished.

Lay favored death.

You’d seen him do it. You had no clue Yixing’s ability of healing could be reversed. But, on the day the clones escaped, you saw Lay twist that gift to take a life. It was only a matter of time, you supposed. The doctors had fallen for Lay’s calm demeanor, and had started letting their guard down around him. On that day, a doctor had gotten too close, and Lay used it to his advantage. You didn’t realize what was happening. One moment the doctor was fine, then Lay placed a palm over his chest and he fell to the floor in a lifeless heap.

Then Lay’s attention turned to you. His dark eyes were hard and spiteful, but there was a flicker of something in his expression that held him from attacking you. He gave you an out and you were fleeing the scene before he could change his mind. You knew you weren’t strong enough to defeat him on your own, that only the ones like him could. So, you went to them and revealed everything you knew.

That led to this mission. You’d spent a month tracking the duplicates to an abandoned hospital they’d taken shelter, and ambushed them. When your fellow soldiers saw their counterparts for the first time, they all froze in shock before determination settled in. The goal was to destroy them, but even with all your knowledge, they hadn’t anticipated how much stronger their clones were.

Lay’s sudden approach jerked you from your reverie, and you cursed yourself from growing distracted at a time like this. His hand wrapped easily around your neck, but he didn’t add any pressure. Still, you gasped and scratched at it, to no avail. He didn’t even flinch as you tore at his skin.

“Do you want me to take it back?”

Gritting your teeth, you stared into those dark voids he called eyes. They shined with mirth, as though he enjoyed toying with you.

“Save me just to kill me,” you spit. “How typical.”

He barked a surprised laugh. “I knew I saved you for a reason.”

He let you go and retreated a couple steps, allowing you space.

A swell of anger overwhelmed you. “You’re an abomination! A monster!”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” He waved off your insults, but there was a tightening around his eyes and a strain in his voice you failed to notice.

“You’re a sick bastard!” You continued, not even sure why you were antagonizing him when he could easily kill you. “A poor excuse of the original.”

“Is that how you really feel?” He asked with a chuckle. “I don’t believe you do.”

And that was the reason behind your tantrum.

Truth was, all the time you spent with Lay in that cold hostile hospital had made you grow attached. After the first conversation you held, it flowed effortlessly between you. He’d learned to banter and would watch you as though he were undressing you in his head. Yixing never looked at you like that, and you never wanted him to. You’d never grown romantic feelings for Yixing, but Lay? He was different. He was nothing like the man whose DNA he shared, and that drew you to him.

There was one day, when you were drawing his blood, he’d grabbed your arm when you pulled away. Your heart began racing with the fear he was finally going to murder you, but that fear turned into something different when the hand not restraining you started curiously venturing over your arm. His fingers searched across your collarbone, down the swell of your breasts, to the rim of your pants. You’d studied the way his eyebrows furrowed at his exploration, as he experienced new feelings and sensations he didn’t understand. When he met your gaze, he took notice to the pounding of your heart, the trepidation in your eyes, and the shallow intake of your breath. He hummed, ‘that’s not fear, is it?’

You contemplated lying, but relented under his naïve gaze. “No.’

He had nodded before finally letting you go, sinking back into the chair he laid upon. “Interesting.’

The effect he had on you did interest him, as did your effect on him. It was what made him spare you that day he escaped, but he had left you with a warning, a promise that he wasn’t done with you yet.

“Shut up!” You yelled at both him and your twisted thoughts. You pounded your fists against his chest in frustration.

“Touch me again,” he threatened calmly, not showing an ounce of pain under your violence. His lack of reaction only pissed you off further, and you lifted your fist, aiming at his nose this time. He snatched your wrist before you could touch him and yanked you forward so that he could crush his lips against yours. You fought him at first, disgusted by his touch. But that denial only lasted a few seconds before you were pulling him closer, fervently kissing him back.

He growled in approval, devouring you with surprisingly soft lips. Blindly, he walked you back until you hit a table. Unbreaking your connection, he helped you hop onto the surface, and you spread your legs for him to slot between. He pulled at your waist, enjoying the heat of your body against his, especially the haggard rise and fall of your chest.

“Still think I’m a sick bastard?” He cockily whispered against your swollen lips

“Shut up,” you groaned, smacking his shoulder harmlessly. He chuckled huskily and the sound made your thighs squeeze his narrow hips, drawing him impossibly closer.

“Who knew you had such a fighter’s spirit,” he purred. His nose rubbed against the side of your neck, his breath was warm as he whispered against your flesh. “I want to kill it.”

“Of course, you do.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, although half the reason came from the pleasure of his inquisitive tongue. “Kiss me again.”

He did as you commanded, and time fell away as you lost yourselves in each other. You were starting to undress the other when he said your name.

At least, you’d thought it was him, except for the fact his tongue was preoccupied exploring your mouth.

Realizing Lay wasn’t the one who spoke, your eyes sprang open and locked with Yixing’s, who stood in the doorway in utter shock.

“That’s not me,” he warned. He was visibly confused, and that you understood. In no world could Yixing picture the two of you like how you were. You’d never shown him any affection that wasn’t friendly. Guilt overcame you when realization widened his eyes. “But you know that, don’t you?”

Betrayal. A sick look of betrayal contorted his soft features and your stomach dropped.

Lay’s mocking laugh echoed throughout the empty room as he straightened, gaining your attention. He met your gaze with a lifted eyebrow, as if telling you to ‘watch this’ before turning to face his doppelganger.

“No, please.” You grabbed his arm, understanding how swiftly he could destroy Yixing, who lacked your shared fighting spirit.

Lay paused under your touch, calculating his next move. The two scrutinized the other, and for the first time, Yixing truly appeared identical to his clone. There was a hatred radiating off of him that you had no idea he was capable of emitting. He said your name again, and it sounded too much like a threat. The brewing anger in his tone had a chill run down your spine. “Let’s go.”

“I….” Your eyes bounced between the two men. They’re both so still and wound up, looking more like statues forever marbleized in a battle of wits.

“Lets. Go.” There’s no room for argument in Yixing’s repeated demand. He was testing you, testing your allegiance. It hurt that he doubted your loyalty, made worse from the fact you were questioning it yourself.

Lay finally moved, turning back to you. Wordlessly, he straightened the leather jacket you wore that dangled from your shoulders. He fixed your hair, making sure you were presentable. His hands had a calming effect that lead you to believe he was using his healing abilities to make sure any cuts or pain you felt vanished.

When you dared a look at him, his face was stoic except his eyes. What you once saw as voids were now filled with life, and within their depths you saw a secret message. A promise that he’d be back for you.

Self-hatred grew within you from the relief you felt seeing his promise.

“Okay, Yixing. I’m coming.” You gently shoved Lay back, pushing at his abdomen. He rested a palm over your hands as he retreated, giving you the room to slide off the table. You stumbled when your feet touched the floor, and he steadied you by the waist, holding you close. Yixing scoffed behind him, muttering something angry under his breath.

You really didn’t want to leave Lay, much to your disgust.

He sensed as much and gave you a reassuring nod that encouraged you enough to finally pull away from him, to head towards Yixing, your dear friend. He held his hand out for you, but you ignored it. You also ignored the hurt that caused him, exiting the room without looking back.

“Next time I see you,” you heard him threaten his evil twin. “You’re dead.”

You shivered again at his lethal calm. Yixing was unrecognizable at that moment.

You heard the smile in Lay’s voice as he said, “looking forward to it.”

[agirlandherquill]

the never love

what better way to return to writeblr than sharing a confession scene? I love them I adore them, I obsess over them (and by which i mean 95% of this came to me at 5am in the morning, i was still awake, steadily losing my mind, and this may be one of the greatest things ive ever written - late night writing takes the win)

“You would run from me, now, in the middle of all of this? All because of an answer you refuse to give me?” “Yes. I would. Because you know I can’t do that. You know I am incapable of giving you that answer, any answer - You ask the worst question at the worst possible time, that is on you. My response is pointless Reid.” She fixed him with a hard stare but he could notice the subtle quivering to her lower lip. “Pointless.” Isolde repeated herself as though it would make her more certain of it. It only made him believe her less. He moved forward, ignorant of the blood staining his palms and cupped a hand to her jaw, ensuring she was unable to avoid his eye. “Then tell me anyway. Lie to me. Lie as well as you can and I will believe you, always. Lie for yourself. Lie for me. Lie for us.” He watched her draw her lower lip beneath her teeth in thought, his heart jumped at the possibility of her considering it, and then she sighed. “No matter the lie I tell it would never be right. It would never be a lie, Reid, not to me.” His throat threatened to close on him, he had to fight to get his words out and even then they were nothing more than a pathetic, desperate whisper. “Then tell me.” She tried to pull away and he let her, he watched her move one step from him, “I can’t.” Another. “I can’t…” A third. “I cannot.” A fourth. Then, hesitation. “I…” Her eyes dropped to her feet, he watched her nose scrunch and heard her quiet curses. Then her eyes were set upon him and she was walking, marching, storming through the wastes of the battlefield. And then she was in front of him. He could not move. He dared not to. This was on her. Everything was on her. She placed her hands on his shoulders and he bowed his knees, refusing to lord over her in this moment. “I say this despite myself. I say this despite you, despite every reason I know in my heart and soul to be true.” She leaned her head forward and rested it against his, shutting her eyes. “Your heart does not beat alone. It beats with mine. I do not love you Reid Eldrich. I will never love you, and yet I am smitten. And that is my answer.” “You are?” His voice was smoke scraping at the back of his throat. “You are?” He had to ask again. He had to be sure. He had to know. He never knew that a something so small as a nod from her could break him, and there he stood, a broken man. “I have longed for you since the day I met you. The very moment. The instant your eyes met mine. And when you spoke to me… I knew, Isolde, I knew I would never be the same.” 

the writing demons were warring within me when i wrote this, and when i wrote the final few lines only a short while ago - i confess with my heart and soul that i love this, this story, and them

~ ~ ~

now for the tag list! (i forgot to add it when i posted, oops!)

(p.s if you'd like to be included/notified too, interact with this post :))

@humbly-a-doppelganger @imawholeassmood @frostedlemonwriter @yrndrgn @abditorywriting

@riveriafalll @lead-to-code @casualsuitturtle @floweryprosegarden @joeys-piano

@catwingsathena @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @nothoughtsjustmhaandotherthings @anaisbebe

@drchenquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @tiredpapergirl @pastelpinkhobbies @a-mimsy-borogove

[baylardo]

THIS POST IS SO LONG LMAO

idk what all ive written and not written publicly pertaining to my ideas on these cringe naenae lil thangs outside of me n tardi dm’s bc im embarrassed and its still rough and vague hahaha im still exploring things but ive thought a lot about certain aspects and not others. toxic worldbuilding lmao.

i think the idea has become that philippa is a bit into her captaincy,,,, not fresh into it. her ex-captain sh’Eraz (moid) has been apprehended or killed (idk lol) and shes in command of the Legacy,,,

theres a few ideas im still sitting on like as its been discussed like, the two kids are barely a year apart in age. which means that like her and jj had a one night stand or something and she got knocked up from it but theyre still like not in a relationship,,,,,,, i hesitate bc i kinda like the idea of the alien adopted boy having a few years (or closer to 10 years lol) on their biological daughter so idk. and it all seems REALLY indulgent to keep it all that close. but also,,,,, 😳 im just struggling to keep it dissimilar to my stuff with kathryn and chakotay and this was like, a way that presented itself haha.

and i still don’t know when JJ would re-enlist in starfleet!!! nothing compelling comes to me 😩😩😩😩 *nothing that doesnt seem super simpy like when philippa becomes a captain for example and she conveniently needs a chief engineer. ive thought that like, maybe his mother who’s been abhorrently against starfleet since joe’s death eventually insists he go because he so obviously loves and wants to follow philippa or something and it reminds her of joe I DONT KNOOOOOOW. ive also thought that maybe he joins peppa’s ship she captains LATER, initially as a civilian and very much like philippa’s Side Piece who coparents kids and rejoins later??? idk haha. i dont really like that option either fhfjdkks

anywayyyyy current idea is she finds out shes whoopsy pregnant just before leaving earth to go on an away mission, doesnt say anything to anyone even jace just leaves lol,,,, Legacy comes across this planet-size spaceship inhabited by these batlike aliens, the ship is their planet that theyve made capable of traversing space and survives on orbiting stars for periods of time, ao theyre very used to darkness but also theyre like obsessed with light sources lol. its like super advanced solar powered technology. i figure the planet has either one or a few like, densely populated areas where theres these big beacons of light protruding out of the centers of the cities, and then vast parts of the planet that are completely covered in darkness. the aliens probably have some explanation surrounding it like lack of resources or something. refer to the valleys of darkness on the planet-ship as like "outskirts" or w/e.

philippas down there doing first contact things (insert weird atmosphere inside the giant planet-ship granting philippa a unique access to it in comparison to her peers), the bat aliens are nice and accommodating to starfleet,,,,, i figure they have some mysterious visual to them of like, bearing little carnivorous fangs, but being vegetarian. stuff of that nature. philippa's a little bit sus about it but says nothing past like, maybe asking why they dont eat meat and them answering that theyve evolved past the need to consume meat and it's something that they dont look fondly on from their ancestry.

while shes there idk in some sketchy alleyway or being given a tour of a science facility, maybe philippa has stepped away from a tour to do some snooping of her own, she's a little bit problematic and too suspicious for her own good.

a runaway/criminal/fleeing/dying bat lady gives her this weird either egg/pod (she may not know its an egg at first lol) and she gets frantically told some conspiracy type stuff about their civilization being built on graves or lies or something edgy and that she cant let them have this pod/egg, its their last hope of setting things right. the bat lady looks oddly different to the other bat aliens philippa has seen; dont know visually how to contrast it yet but shes more sickly, less clean and less light-colored, more gray and fitting for a nocturnal species who rarely sees light, ravaged, less prim and proper, probably larger and more apparent fangs, etc. but she either runs off or gets captured or killed.

philippa's left more than a little confused about things but i figure she has an intuitive sense of wrongness and hasn't been vibing something she couldnt quite put her finger on regarding these aliens for a while and that kinda confirms a hunch for her. ummm proceeding to them trying to take the egg/pod away from philippa and shes like "ummmm lol no" so she ends up getting chased and her fleeing the city she's in without backup, they cut off access to her ship and comms so shes like Super Alone fending for herself out in the pitch black. POTENTIALLY she has access to starlight, id imagine the big planet-ship is a closed off dome as it travels but it opens up slits or something along its circumference to take in light from surrounding stars. so she can see but shes not emitting a beacon/torch of her own as not to give herself away.

as shes out there and hiding and trying to figure out what to do, how to contact her ship, figure out what's actually going on here, etc., the egg/pod ends up hatching and being like a weird little alien moth baby that is dissimilar to the bat aliens currently residing on this planet. ((((((my initial CRINGE thought is that like, these eggs/pods respond to like, idk MATERNITY so its been dormant for potentially years, and philippas like, secretly pregnant and it bonds/imprints on her as its mother or w/e. if i dont end up going that indulgent route you can just say that it liked the cut of her gib or something lmao. soul-related,,, ummmm good heart,,,,, etc.))))))

i figure they spend a few days together hiding. i think she'd talk to it to keep herself sane lol. maybe kinda confide a few fears she has regarding motherhood, struggles with her mother lol,,,, talk about delivering her sister's baby maybe,,,, other things too like shes just talking to this baby lmao. was talking to jellybeans about the name Moss for him haha, i think itd be cute if she just literally names him after moss. very uncreative placeholder type name that sticks. anyway baby eventually starts crying, shes worried shes gonna get caught with it, she does lmao, but by some bat aliens living in the outskirts of the planet-ship. these bats are all more visually similar to the frantic one that'd given her the egg. they discover what she has (moth baby lol) and they take her to their hideout/camp where they explain their race's history and that of the lil alien she's now charged with reluctantly taking care of. which iiiis...

the planet-ship was originally that of the moth aliens, a long time ago they took in the bat aliens that were as in need of light for some reason as much as if not more than they were, they cohabitated for a bit but eventually the bats start like overpopulating or something. ITS STILL ROUGH IN MY HEAD. i figure the moth aliens are super smart, but have a moral code that the scrungly bat aliens dont end up vibing all too much. somehow somewhy the bats end up starting to use the moth's DNA/blood, (maybe via infusion?) blending it with their own through unnatural means, in order to like, artificially augment or evolve themselves, get smarter, thus why theyve physically changed so much in appearance is because theyre like, idk living off of their blood or something to maintain their states of mind.

they also tell her that the lil baby is the last of his kind and he'd likely be safer somewhere away from this place where they cant use him anymore. (maybe the eggs are effectively preserved/ageless and supply the bats with longer lasting access to blood idk) they dont know or understand how philippa got it to hatch (maybe she does know but shes not gonna tell them. shes still repressing/ignoring the elephant in the room (pregnant) lmao). but his existence is kinda a big deal bc it proves what theyre saying and the other bats would likely not want that info coming to light or preventing them from joining starfleet or w/e. maybe their planet-ship is becoming less and less sustainable and theyre like Girl Help Lol.

philippa asks the outskirt bats for their help in getting in contact with her ship and off of the planet and they do. im sure its bumpy haha but i havent thought about this part much it just eventually happens and she makes it back to her ship, she confides in her CMO that she's pregnant (maybe) and he knows her well enough to be like "i know," bc she like, didnt get her medical examination out of the way right at the start of their departure or something and kept putting it off so ppl wouldnt know lol. ANYWAY, lil baby is given special treatment to start adapting his lungs to a new atmosphere which is long and arduous and philippa stays by his side through a lot of it. its not like she cares or is worried or anything!!!!!!!!!!!!

eventually gets back to earth, still hasnt really told anyone her news or the fact that shes kinda adoptively taking care of this baby now. i think we'd talk about her showing up to tell Jace and her initially perceiving philippa with a baby and being like 'omg' and then reading peppa's very loud thoughts and being like 'OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!' haha. EVEN MORE VAGUE IDEAS WITH JJ LOLLLLLLL, has to do with my big question mark surrounding his starfleet career and everything, but theyre both like "omg we arent even dating lol hi" about it.

*falls asleep*

[crowleys-bentley-and-plants]

handwritten asksss 📝💻

📝 do you have a WIP? share a piece of it!

because you didnt force me to write it by hand i will share both my wips but only this once!! i believe i already talked about both but will give a short summary of both. falling stars was initially about post final fifteen crowley having a conversation with god but the plot evolved and so now there is a lot of pre fall crowley as well (not to spoil too much but... your body horror angel crowley is, let's just say, not too far off). here's a snippet:

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the beautiful sketch of the Mona Lisa. With trembling hands, Crowley reached behind it in his safe and retrieved the water bottle Aziraphale had given him all those years ago. The holy water, a gift from Aziraphale, a reminder of a time when things had been simpler, when they had still believed they could defy fate. He eyed it warily, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Would it really be that bad? What did he have left to live for anyway? The holy water sat before him like a silent temptress, promising release from the agony of his existence. What harm could it do, he wondered, to swallow the very essence of divinity itself? But as he reached for the bottle, a flicker of doubt danced behind his eyes. Was this truly the answer he sought, or merely another desperate grasp at oblivion? He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the bottle. He closed his eyes and placed his hand on top of it, feeling the weight of centuries pressing down on him. The memories of happier times with Aziraphale whispered in the back of his mind, begging him to hold on, to find another way. But what other way was there, he thought as a tear slid down his cheek.

yep well on to the next one. Only human is very complex in the sense that a lot is happening lol. Crowley has lost his memories sometime after eden and he now believes he's a human. an immortal one, that is. in the present day he's a private detective and is investigating a series of disappearances that may not be what they look like (lol does that even make sense). oh and he has this recurring dream about a certain angel that he made up a long time ago to cope with his loneliness. turns out the angel is real. and also an angel. and he's begging crowley to help stop the apocalypse. are we just glossing over the fact that angels are real?? hello??

anyway here's my favourite part i have written for this fic (and probably for any fic lolll) (oh little context, the story is set in present day but every chapter has a flashback a random (or not so random👀) time period. this is part of a flashback from the year 1789, Paris. did i mention it's at a masquerade ball?)

“You’re not from around here, are you?” the stranger asked, tilting his head to the side while adjusting the delicate feathers on his mask. Crowley, intrigued by the question, offered a wry smile beneath his own disguise. “How did you know?” “It’s your clothes,” the man answers. “And the way you move.”

“The way I move?”  “I saw you dancing. The French don’t dance like that.” Crowley became vaguely aware that the man had seen him dance. A flicker of realisation crept in — had the mysterious figure been watching him the entire time? “How do the French dance, then?” Crowley asked. “Calculated. Like every step is a move in a game of chess. But you,” the man glanced at Crowley, “you dance like you're defying the very concept of rules. There's a freedom in your movements, a rebellion against the constraints of structured elegance.”

if you liked this little snippet you should see the rest of the flashback im literally shaking everytime i think about it it's the best this ive written frr (i know im biased but ahhhhh it's so delicious)

[obsidian-jaw]

one part of a ~10k (and increasing lol) word fic i started awhile ago that ive been debating posting since i've literally never written anything before. but the Zevlor brain rot is so incredibly aggressive rn that i needed some kind of outlet before i exploded. so here's me testing the waters.

also i've never posted something like this before so apologies if i tagged/posted this incorrectly in some way.

Zevlor x Tav (MDNI / +18)

The following night, Tav made sure to check in with everyone, catching up on the day’s events and any idle banter they were interested in having. It had been a long day, and everyone was looking forward to an early night after dinner.

Once she had made her rounds and enough people had vanished from sight for the evening, Tav slipped out of the cave undetected in search of the Hellrider.

She found him in his usual spot overlooking the west forest, sitting casually on a large wooden crate. His location was far enough away from the main entrance to not be seen, but close enough to hear someone’s approach.

Their initial casual conversation was short lived. Tav was once again straddling his lap, their lips locked with a similar intensity as the night before. His arms wrapped around her waist, keeping her close to him as his hands began to toy with her shirt, tucked neatly into the top of her pants.

He was the first to release their kiss, straying to her jaw, then to her neck. His lips brushing her skin sent shivers up her spine. Tav tipped her head back, exposing more of her to him as he sent waves of heat through her body with each kiss. Her core was pulsing, the longing within her burning hotter.

Zevlor’s movements were still somewhat hesitant, but there was more familiarity in him now. Memories of past intimacy had unlocked and come back to him - what it sounded like, felt like, tasted like.

Once he had freed her shirt from her pants, he slid his callused hands carefully up her torso, his touch warm and delicate. A quiver ran through her as his thumbs just barely grazed the bottom of her. She could feel his arousal, his need for relief, pressing into her.

A deep rumble sounded in the tiefling’s throat as Tav began to grind into him. She felt his hips roll towards her from his seated position, his grip on her thighs tight. It was painfully obvious how much he craved her, needed her. And Tav was all too delighted to give him the release he ached for.

Tav relinquished his lips with one last drawn out kiss, their eyes meeting for a moment as she pulled away. A look of confusion spread across his face, questioning. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she carefully dismounted from his lap to kneel between his legs. His puzzled expression came and went as Tav reached out and started to unbuckle his belt, understanding snapping into him.

“W-wait,” a panicked Zevlor breathed, “someone may see us.” His hands shot out to hers in an attempt to stop her, but weakly.

Tav stopped, pulling back a little, understanding his concern. “Do you want me to stop?” she whispered, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

Silence hung between them as Zevlor considered, his eyes flickering between hers. She could see the internal battle he was having, uneasy that they were in a semi-public location but the anticipation of what she was about to do taking hold of him.

He swallowed before his quiet “no", then lightly guided her hands back to his belt, helping her to unbuckle it. His hands then laid on either side of his thighs to grip the edge of the crate, muffled clicks from his claws sounding as they hit the wood.

Once his arousal was free from the confines of his trousers, Tav regarded him in moderate awe. She was not at all surprised by his size, for he was rather large for a tielfling. A deep, beautiful scarlet red. Infernal ridges similar to others on his body. Thick and regal.

Zevlor was completely frozen in place. But Tav gave him a reassuring smile as she curled her fingers delicately around his length. Bringing her mouth to the tip of him, she kissed him gently. She felt him pulse in her hand, eagerness flooding him.

Silence filled the space between them other than the sounds of her lips dancing across his skin. She was slow and gentle, letting him adjust to her. After not having been with someone for awhile, she did not want to rush him. He deserved leisure and tenderness.

“Hells,” he groaned as she wrapped her mouth around his head, sliding him into and out of her with ease. The wood creaked under his tightening hold with each one of her steady pulls.

A strained moan passed his lips as she took more and more of him in, slow and steady, as her tongue pressed firmly to his underside while her lips continued to glide smoothly across his head.

It didn’t take long for Zevlor to come undone, body abruptly rigid and breath hitching. “Fuck,” he hissed quietly under his breath. His eyes had slammed shut from the intensity of his orgasm as he suddenly spilled into Tav’s mouth. Small splinters burst from the crate as his claws dug into the wood beneath him.

Tav gave him a second of stillness before lazily pulling him in and out of her mouth while he came, prolonging his climax. There was a hollow thud as Zevlor let his back fall heavily against the stack of crates behind him.

She pulled him delicately from her mouth, kissing the tip of him one last time. “That didn’t take long,” she teased softly.

“Forgive me,” he exhaled with slight embarrassment, his head spinning. “I-I have not had a moment for pleasure in…quite some time.”

She hummed to herself, wiping the side of her mouth with her sleeve.  “Please don’t be embarrassed,” she reassured the tiefling, letting her hands linger on his thighs as she stood up. “It’s fine.”

Zevlor eventually found the strength to stand, Tav offering support as they straightened themselves up.

“You made this old tiefling feel young again,” he said, running his hand through his hair.

She smiled, taking his hand in hers to pull him down to her, kissing his cheek affectionately. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she whispered under half-lidded eyes as she left the content and relaxed Hellrider to return to her tent.

[wrongcaitlyn]

about your series dear reader, will we ever get to see Nico having a collab or featured song in the future... heehe... love your work btw

thank u for the ask!! and thank u for reading i’m so glad you like it <3 i’ve actually thought abt this quite a bit!! the thing with collabs, is that either i could use an irl celebrity, or i could make a character a celebrity and make them work with nico—so here are my thoughts on both options:

1) a real celebrity - i try to stay away from involving real life people in the fic, as in interactions, because i don’t know any of those people irl and i would hate to, like, mischaracterize someone or write positively abt someone who eventually gets revealed to be like a shitty person, yk? the most i’ve ever done, i think, is that one time i mentioned nico taking a picture with lorde - but even then, it wasn’t him talking abt her, it was just a picture that was posted. that, and the absurd amount of taylor swift name drops that i have, which i will never stop😭

basically, though i have considered it (my mind is literally CONSTANTLY imagine collabs of nico and other celebs/other songs), i literally have a playlist of them, i don’t think i would ever include it in the fic. simply bc of the concerns mentioned above :/

(however, i would like everyone to know that ive been imagining nico as a surprise guest on the rep tour, and having him featured on rep tv, for like- literally as long as ive had this au in my head. ill never write him collating with taylor (bc again idk i just feel strange writing abt real ppl) but in my head, it’s canon)

2) creating a new celeb - this one is hard, pretty much bc i’m… out of characters.

like, i still HAVE characters to use, but i already have plans for most of them and a majority of them aren’t actually part of the music industry. i could justify a collab between alex and nico bc she’s like the only music person i have written, but i also don’t wanna force that

if i ever do, which i doubt, bc i don’t have any plans to at the moment, it’ll be a pjo character, i just don’t have any idea of who that would be :/

oh and! last reason why i’m hesitant to add a collab - i feel like nico writing music is so engrained with him working with apollo as a producer, and their studio dynamic. obviously, it’s good to step out of your comfort zone, but i think that it’s also some sense of caution and comfort between them, that they’re the same people who will work on every nico di angelo song and album.

either way, i have seven albums outlined in total. the time span of greatest of luxuries goes from 2018-2024. that may be subject to change, but im feeling pretty confident abt it (it used to be 2028 btw😭) and anything PAST that time range is completely up to the reader!! i have lots of ideas of what could happen beyond that seventh album, and i have an idea (and a playlist) of the eighth album, but i can definitely imagine a lot of features in the future as he branches out. (and also him on rep tv. or ttpd. will update when ttpd comes out if i think there’s a specific song he’d slay as a feature on)

and lastly, for features. yes. he is on the hunger games tbosas soundtrack bc i say so‼️

(i imagine yellow flicker beat by lorde, even tho that was written for mockingjay, i just feel like it fits his vibe, but also, can’t catch me now works perfectly too)

[hourcat]

9, 14, 27 🥰💖

mwah akira thank u for playing my love!!!!!

9. Do you write every day? If you wrote today, share a sentence of what you’ve written!

i try to!!!! it's been a little difficult as of late, i fear, and i def have off days (like today ;n;) but i did write yesterday!

The door swings open, though, and all of Charles’ nerves bleed away at the sight of Pierre’s smiling face. He’s smiling. It’s been long enough since he’s been within a safe enough orbit of that smile that the sight of it makes his chest ache. “Pierrot,” he whispers, and doesn’t hesitate before crashing through the doorway and throwing his arms around his best friend, burrowing his face in the crook of Pierre’s shoulder as Pierre manages to kick his apartment door shut.

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

ohhh this is so difficult....my lizard brain says literally any of the pwps ive written for obvious reasons....but tbh? i would love to see an autumnal affair. turned into a limited series. those AI photos that went around a while back of regency era drivers...did something to me.

27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

ha, the first one that comes to mind is let me show you what i can do, aka the piarles + stranger threesome fic i wrote last summer. i have certainly post a whole lot worse since then LOL but i was SO nervous because at the time this was like...the wildest thing i'd ever fully written? and it was one of the longest things i'd posted on f1blr, and i still was new enough that i wasn't sure how people were perceiving my writing, and it all ended up with me in the dms i had with sez and anna going "IDK IS THIS TOO MUCH SHOULD I POST THIS" over and over again until i just....did it.

ah, simpler times. before my lizard brain took full control of my literary trajectory

(from the fic writer ask meme)

[lulupen2023]

Bart Crouch Jr/Aro Volturi Harry Potter/Twilight crossover

I love Barty Crouch Jr so so so much, which means I always try to find a way to save him, this is one... I post the first part and see how it goes:

Summary:

Barty Crouch Junior's (somewhat horrifying) fate seems to have already been written… or maybe not? What if there was someone who has other plans for him?

Small premise: it is the first time that I fully enter the world of 'Harry Potter' (so far I have only taken a character from the context and moved him to other fandoms ^^ ') and I will do it in a very marginal way, also because this is a crossover.

Setting: alternative IV book final Pairing: Baro aka BartyAro , also BartyXVoldemort but only one-sided

Important: there is a remarkable plot twist that I need, I mixed the events of the film with those of the book. Dumbledore's reporting in the film is assumed to lead to a new trial against Barty Crouch Junior… with that terrible sentence.

In the book this process has never been there (thank you very much, damn you, Cornelius Fudge !!), but fanfics exist for this, right? Here, now you can understand my madness better . I’ve also changed another little thing from the canon, you will understand why

I: You really don't get it, do you?  

That night seemed to never end. Strange, for it was the last night he had left to live.  

Yet, it was so. Bartemius Crouch Junior, locked up again in an Azkaban cell, had the impression that the seconds lasted as minutes and minutes lasted as hours.  

Perhaps this is how people felt when the moment of their death began to approach inexorably. He wandered back and forth in the narrow space he had at his disposal. It was not like the other cells. They were more claustrophobic, where there was only a slot that allowed prisoners to communicate with the outside. This one had bars that allowed him to look into the corridor. Not that there was much to see, but it was better than nothing. If there was one thing that Barty was watching carefully, however, it was his fine tailored suits, which had been given to him once he had stripped off his leather jacket and more frugal clothing he had worn for his Mission. They were just like the ones he had at the first trial, the one that was not supposed to involve him as a protagonist.  He would have gotten away if it weren't for the insinuations from that damn Karkaroff and that even more damn Mad Eye Moody, who had blocked him before he could escape. Correction. Barty had been given back the very same clothes he wore during the day of that trial. Perhaps as a good omen that once again everything was going well, that the bad guys were about to be brought to justice and other bullshit!  

Let them do whatever they pleased with him; his beloved Dark Lord would triumph anyway, it was only a matter of time. He had contributed to his rebirth. No, it was too modest to say that. Barty had been decisive in Voldemort’s rebirth. This was the only thing that mattered. Sure, Barty longed to be at Voldemort's side in his glorious return, but he clearly understood what a sacrifice meant and his would not be in vain. If it hadn't been for Dumbledore's timing, Cornelius Fudge would have thrown the Dementor that he had brought with him directly in the office where Barty had been interrogated. Even if it was something inevitable, deep within his heart, Barty had been glad to delay that awful moment. If they did that trial as well, in all likelihood it would have been his father to preside over it. In light of what happened, the Ministry wouldn’t have hesitated  to give him his old office again. Certainly Bartemius Crouch Senior would have felt an undisguised satisfaction in sentencing his own son to the worst possible penalty.

He hadn't even flinched when it came to sending him to Azkaban at the tender age of nineteen.

His father. Had it not been for the orders from his Dark Lord, the devoted Death Eater would have been more than happy to kill him and take revenge for the treatment he had accorded him in those years of captivity, under his father’s oversight. They were even worse than his days in Azkaban , if possible.

However he couldn't. The Imperius Curse cast by Voldemort himself worked pretty well. They were safe, and Bartemius Crouch Senior was more useful alive than dead.

This was before, due to the only misstep made by the young Dark Wizard, his cover was screwed up and everything was found out. However, after the confessions that had been snatched from him with the cunning ruse of the Veritaserum, his father in all likelihood must already have been freed from the Curse that subjugated him.  

Had he known this earlier, Barty would have enjoyed the sadistic satisfaction of eliminating his father in such a subtle way that he would not even have a proper burial. If only…  

The Death Eater's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing in the corridor. Strange. No visitors were allowed. Least of all to a man sentenced to death. "Good evening." He heard the voice, even before he could see to whom it belonged. It was velvety, caressing. Shortly thereafter, the owner of that voice revealed himself in front of the bars. Barty studied him.  

He was a tall man with an elegant bearing, dressed in a black suit that emphasized his slender figure. His straight, shoulder-length raven hair contrasted with his pale skin, not to mention his eyes. Was it a strange play of light or were they really red? "Who are you? What do you want? Who sent you here? " Barty growled. "Tsk, tsk, this doesn't seem the proper way to welcome your benefactor," the other protested, shaking his head.  

Barty was surprised by that answer, even more so when he saw the man put the key in the lock and open the cell. He could have fled, dodging the stranger with a nimble movement, and quickly escaped. Yet instinct told him to stand still and do absolutely nothing.  

The stranger entered the cell, closing it and advancing towards him, calmly. "You ... you haven't told me yet who you are, or why you're doing this!" Barty insisted, grumpy, though more overwhelmed by curiosity and confusion. "You ask too many questions," the other chuckled, without taking his eyes off him. Barty felt almost undressed by such a... hungry look. "And you didn't even give an answer!" retorted the Death Eater. “How did you get in? What about the guards who are out there? " "Alec is inhibiting their senses. I suppose that, in the meantime, Jane is torturing them, too.  You know, she can do something similar to what some of you do with the wand, only more practical and faster!" the stranger explained with a smirk. "You will get to know them and you will like them, I'm sure of that." he added mysteriously. "I don't think I understand ..." the Dark Wizard muttered, but the other ignored him.  

“As for the guards, when they are done, they will bring them in front of you, so you can take care of them.  Erase their memory.  You should be able to do it with one of these odd tools, right? " he went on, pulling something out of his pocket that Barty knew very well; so much so that his eyes lit up.

That was a magic wand.

“As you can see, the key isn't the only thing I stole from one of the guards. I know it's not yours, but then we'll take care of that issue, too, ” his mysterious benefactor explained, holding out his wand. Barty started to take it, but the other pulled it back before he could touch it, fast. Way too fast.

"Ah-ah, don't be in such a hurry, my friend," the other warned him, putting the wand back into his pocket.  

"Wait a minute, it can't all be that easy ... the Dementors, how ..." the Death Eater muttered, more and more perplexed.

"Oh. Well, for them, it is as if we did not exist. They perceive the presence of the only thing they cannot find in us," the other winked at him.  

"Who or what are you?" Barty frowned, backing away. His listener’s red eyes sparkled with a particularly amused light. “Oh come on, you really don't get it, do you? And yet I've heard that you are among the smartest wizards! " Barty finally understood everything. "You're a vampire!" “You guessed right, my dear. I'm Aro Volturi, head of the Volturi clan. I can boast very ancient origins. Let's say some millenia," the vampire chuckled.

"Undead ..not alive ... you are ambiguous creatures. I don't want anything to do with you. I'm a Pureblood!" growled the Death Eater. "Just one more reason why your blood must be delicious," Aro said, slowly licking his lips, in a way that Barty found simply too sensual.  

"Why me?" the Dark Wizard asked him. "Because I have been watching you for a long time and I will not allow such a waste of potential to happen," Aro murmured, approaching and reaching out to him. "Can I...?" Strangely Barty found himself nodding and the vampire placed his hand on his right cheek, in a sort of caress.  

"Oooh, I'm fascinated by the pleasure you take in torturing and killing people," Aro smiled, closing his eyes to concentrate better. "Even with bare hands?" he reopened them, more amused than before. Barty nodded proudly, but then frowned, breaking the contact. "Wait .. but how do you know?" he asked, but gave himself the answer a moment later. "You just had to touch me."  

“That's right, it's my power. Each vampire has one that distinguishes them," Aro explained. “From what I've seen, I can tell that someone here also seems to have a predisposition to cut throats. Excellent. But I could give you something better than oh-so-gross knives. " Barty did not understand the meaning of his words.

“But I have seen much more. This devotion of yours for your Master ... there's more, you love him, don't you? " Feeling his soul bared, the Dark Wizard could not help but nod. "But you also know that the feeling is not mutual, not the way you would like. To him, you are only his devoted servant; perhaps the most devoted among the males," Aro continued.  

“It's for Bellatrix, right? He loves her!" the Death Eater cornered him. "He loves no one but himself," the vampire answered calmly. Even without a wand, although weakened by not eating for two days, Barty Crouch Junior was still potentially dangerous and lethal and did not hesitate to show it to Aro. "No one insults my Dark Lord!" he shouted, anger burning in his eyes. “Don't you dare call him selfish! He will let us live glorious ages in his kingdom! " he continued, his voice more like a snarl. His fingers tightening around that moon-white throat, as hard as stone and as cold as ice. His only answer was Aro bursting out laughing, just before breaking free from his grasp too easily. "What a temper, I like you more and more, you know?" he smiled at him, embarrassing him. "And anyway, if I say certain things, it's because I can say them with certainty, don't you think so?" he looked at him slyly. Once again the Death Eater made the right connection of the information he had received. "You touched my Lord, too.  You ... you saw him, you saw him after his return." Now the vampire held the Dark Wizard's fullest attention. "Please tell me how he was." Barty asked him in a submissive tone of voice. He would also have prostrated himself on the ground, just to have that information so precious to him. "Potter was no help at all when I asked him!" he rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, I saw him. I was in his presence, just before I came here to you. He has a body again. He is tall, mighty, and very, very powerful. He is elegant, both in his movements and in his behavior, but never as elegant as me! " Aro chuckled impertinently.  

Barty listened to him in awed silence. His mouth hung half open in amazement, but his eyes were closed to picture better in his mind what the stranger was telling him. He opened them only when he felt Aro's index finger under his chin. “What I said earlier was not an offense. Not being overwhelmed by all too human emotions, like love, makes your Dark Lord who he is. It’s part of his indisputable charm," he explained. "And anyway, no one is asking you to deny your Dark Lord. You can continue to love him as much as you want ..." he murmured, starting to stroke Barty's hair. Barty let him do it, enjoying that oh-so-delicate touch. "I just wonder... who loves you, who’s got you?" Aro asked him, his hands reaching down to caress his face, his mouth so close to his. Barty seemed to recover from that moment of weakness, pulling away from him, abruptly. "Stay away from me!" he growled.

He had to admit that that vampire was very attractive and that scared him. It wasn't just his physical appearance, there was something...more...about him. Beyond his gentle and polite manner, that ostentatious affability, he perceived a darkness that drew him like a bee to honey. The more he looked at Aro, the more he wanted to abandon himself in his arms. Maybe Aro had guessed that too, but he preferred not to insist, not to impose anything on him, not to be too urgent. He just talked to him, and his voice and flattery could be a pretty fearsome weapon. “Let me love you, let me save you, we can do terribly wonderful and wonderfully terrible things together. Your dark magic, my powers, eternal life… ”

It was Barty's turn to laugh, but he did it contemptuously.

“What eternal life? I don't even have a whole day… tomorrow I'll be fed to the Dementors. There won't be anything left of me… ”

Aro looked at him amused, tilting his head to one side to study him better.  

"You really don’t get it, do you,  huh?" He approached the Dark Wizard slowly, pleased to see that this time, he no longer flinched. His hands were already on his shoulders, his ruby eyes fixed on Barty's dark, chocolate ones. Well. Chocolate for now until they changed at the wizard's graduation.  

"Is it still not clear to you why I'm here tonight?" Aro smiled, baring a little more the already pointed canines. At last it was all perfectly clear to Barty. "Ooohh," he lit up with enthusiasm, grinning. "Yes. I like it."

The vampire watched, almost hypnotized, as the Death Eater's jerky tongue slipped out of his lips several times. That tongue made him have impure thoughts and it only intrigued him even more.

"I like it too, you will be such a precious addition to my collection!" Aro joined his hands, with an eerie grin.

"Collection?" Barty frowned.

“I'm always looking for special people to add to my ranks. I have the feeling that I already know what your power will be and, believe me, you will love it." Aro chuckled in anticipation, then became more serious. “But, Barty, you won't be just a mere addition. You are worth so much more and then you are so beautiful… ” he murmured, stroking his neck, anticipating the moment when his canines would sink into his skin. Barty let him do it, getting lost in his fantasies.

Aro was his key to freedom, no matter if the price to pay was his humanity. If there was an opportunity he had to see his Dark Lord again, even if it was just one last time, he would grab that opportunity tooth and nail. He pushed against Aro and kissed him without thinking. It wasn't a sweet kiss, it wasn't a hesitant kiss. Aro was surprised and pleased, so he allowed the wizard all the access he wanted.

One of Barty’s hand passed between those raven threads of silk, while the other was pressed against his chest, stroking it through the fabric. The kissing alternated with bites that had the sole function of exploring. Oh yes, Aro would have a blast with this indomitable wizard. However, by establishing contact with him again, he noticed something.

"I've seen your reasons for doing it," he pulled away from him, with a sad smile. “If you accept, you must stay with me. You will be able to see your Dark Lord. You can continue to serve him. But you will be my Mate. In time you will learn to love me and that will certainly not make you a less efficient Death Eater, if that is what you fear,” he said, reading him like an open book.

"I ..." the wizard bit his lip, struggling.

"You will be both a Death Eater and a bloodsucker!" Aro stole a smile from him with his witty remark. "Besides,  think about the consequences, think about what might happen tomorrow." Of all the things he sensed about Barty, one of the strongest was his relentless hatred of his father.

"I can already taste his blood in my throat!" Barty burst out laughing, a deranged expression crossing his face and tongue darting out, eager. All of this only excited Aro even further more.

"Do it," Barty growled against his lips. "Do it now!" he urged him with another kiss.

Aro smiled, then playfully pushed him away. "Calm down, puppy, there's time for everything." Aro chuckled, tracing the outline of Barty's mouth with his fingers. "And then, as long as you're conscious, there's one thing I need you to do." As if they had heard him, which was likely, a few minutes later Jane and Alec showed up in front of the cell carrying a total of six guards with ease. The cell was opened again by Aro. The bars could be enchanted, so it was better not take any chances.

Barty approached the threshold, studying what he understood to be two other vampires. They looked back with the same curiosity, especially Jane. Alec seemed rather bored.

"You know what you have to do," Aro said to Barty, handing him the wand.Now he could trust him.

"Oh no, the prisoner has a wand!" One of the guards was alarmed. "My wand!" a second guard despaired.  

"Oh yes, but fear not, I'll make a wise use of it!" Barty grinned, casting on them, one by one, the  Oblivion spell, without feeling his weakened state. Not even the Imperius Curses that followed, exhorting them to leave and ignore what was happening, seemed to give him any trouble. He also had enough energy for six Avada Kedavra. He knew it would be so much fun, but he also knew that such an action would be eye-catching and drawing attention was the last thing he needed. "Magnificent, truly magnificent!" Aro commended him, even applauding him, enthused. Jane was also particularly fascinated.

"Aro, are you sure you want to take care of him all alone?" she asked him hopefully as he closed the cell. Barty stared at that very attractive, petite blonde, who seemed to emanate a strong aura of power, though never as strong as the one he could perceive in Aro.  

 Although flattered by her interest towards him, he wanted to deal only and exclusively with Aro. With a grim look Aro sent a clear message to the vampiress he had created centuries ago. No further words were needed and, although a little annoyed, the blonde walked away with her twin brother.

"Alone again," Barty smiled, moving closer to him. "Let's not waste any more time," he said as he exposed his neck. With great self-control, Aro pulled away from that appealing offer. 

"How much impatience, puppy!" he laughed, wrapping an arm around Barty's slender waist. "You know,  first I want something in return ...." He shot him a look full of desire.

“You want my body, right? Use me as much as you want, I don't care. " Barty replied, taking off his jacket and beginning to unbutton his shirt, without poetry. He was about to undo his trousers, too, but Aro stopped him, holding the Dark Wizard's hands in his.

“Oh please, don't make it seem like a sacrifice. I know you care, I can read it. " Aro said, catching him off guard. "And you have no idea how good I can make you feel, how much you'll like it."

He kissed him again, without Barty showing any resistance. This time it was a slower, more tender kiss, but no less deep. Was it another vampire power to kiss so damn good? Barty was wondering that as the vampire's lips dropped to place a chaste, normal kiss on the left side of his neck. He trembled in anticipation of what would happen that very last night he would live as a human.

TBC