#last of this miniseries finally! i finished it

[en-scribed]

CENTER OF THE WORLD [fantasy short story]

Personified immortal Stars have lived secretly on Earth throughout history. This piece takes place in 16th century Florence, right at the brink of the Copernican Revolution. Sol, the beloved sun king, is presented with an endless battle and an impossible choice. The Stars' world was created by myself and @heirmyst. Previous post: [THE THREE BIRDS] [ORION'S FINEST] [GATHERER OF GRAIN] Word count: 4,453

The air grew colder by the moment as the sun set. Sol, soaring through the overcast sky, had to stamp down the instinct to burn brighter. Instantly, as daylight faded, the flight grew tedious, but not because of the cold. Sol hastened his wingbeats to reach his destination sooner; anything to stop having to dim his flames.

Finally, he descended into the old Medici palace’s chapel, only letting the protective cloaking field drop once the walls securely surrounded him.

Beaming, he spread his arms, ready to receive his fellow Stars. “I am here!” 

His flight-blurred vision cleared, only to reveal… nothing. The cavernous space of the chapel only echoed back his own words.

And the sound of a loose page turning. 

Sol walked toward the steady, calming light that radiated from an opposite corner. Cann sat alone, hunched against a wall in a way that couldn’t have possibly been comfortable for their wings and engrossed in a bound tome.

“I said,” Sol repeated, with greater enunciation, now that he spoke only to one fellow Star. “I have arrived!” 

“I can see that, my king,” Cann said mildly, without looking up from their book. “I heard you the first time, and knew you were coming well before then.”

He stiffened. “Did I fail to disguise my light enough?” 

“Oh no, it was more than enough for the mortals,” Cann said with a laugh, their eyes glowing with lavender flame to make the point. “But there’s no hiding from me.”

Sol sighed. He folded his wings back down and leaned against the pillar facing the other Star. “Where are the others, Canopus?”

Cann shushed him, impatient. “I’m almost done!” 

“Is it truly that riveting?” Sol asked flatly. “You read too much.” 

Cann didn’t give him the satisfaction of responding to the remark, or even acknowledging that they heard it. They simply flipped through the last fifty pages in the span of a few minutes and put it aside. Finally meeting Sol’s eyes with the utmost seriousness, they said, “No such thing as reading too much.”

“There is for you!” Sol argued. “You can know anything without lifting a finger. What use would you have for mortal books?” Absently, he picked it up, ready to cast it aside before the words on the cover caught his eye. It read, On the Revolutions of the Heavenly Spheres.

“For one,” Cann said, smiling, “It’s an invaluable resource on keeping up with the mortals. I know what I know, but it’s useful to keep a finger on the pulse of what they know.”

Sol found himself leaning forward. “And… what do they know?”

“It appears that one of them has taken a shot in the dark.” They held a palm out and produced a small pocket illusion; two spinning orbs, one large and golden, the other small and blue. “He has come to the revelation that the Earth revolves around the sun, not the other way around.” 

Before Sol knew it, he was perusing the book. The words blended together, but the diagrams scattered throughout held his attention. He vaguely remembered secret keeper al-Tusi and the rest of the observatory students in Iran shoving quaint pictures in his face, some near identical to the ones in this tome. Somehow, their legacy had carried itself to a mind several lands away.

“How did the astronomers of the caliphates never come to this?” Sol asked.

“A misguided question,” Cann said, ending the illusory demonstration. “You cannot judge them by the standards we have because of what we know, especially because they were brilliant on their own terms. I believe you would be better served asking why this man did make this departure.”

But Sol’s mind did not have the space to ponder Cann’s philosophical proposals. Basking in the satisfaction of finally having his centrality out in the open, no matter how fringe this mortal’s reach might have been, was too momentous to be disrupted by anything else. 

He caught Cann’s wry, knowing stare and tossed the book back to them. “As if I needed the humans to tell me what we’ve always known,” he said, trying his best to wipe the smile off his face. “Well, leaving that… why have I returned to an empty palace tonight?” 

Cann stood, smoothly snapping to attention. “Hauntings have decided, very unwisely, to camp outside the city walls. A show of force, I gather. The others have flown out to neutralize the flock.”

“All of them?” Sol asked, surprised. “Even Sirius?”

“Especially Sirius,” Cann corrected. “Vega insisted upon having him. You know how they get when the other side of fate’s scales tips even an inch downward.”

Sol nodded proudly. “North Star V never misses,” he said. “Still. How have they not asked you to join?”

“We aren’t that desperate just yet,” Cann said lightly. “Some blasts need to be held close to the chest.”

On cue, colorful flames lit up the chapel’s entrance. As Sol hastened to adjust his crown and take his place on the steps, Cann strode forth to meet the Stars. The group, freshly out of battle, frantically scrambled to make their various reports known. V shoved their way to the front of the group, buzzing with urgent blue lightning, but at the sight of Cann, considerably relaxed. 

Placing a sympathetic hand on Cann’s shoulder, V said, “I wish you only the absolute best of luck.”

Cann only blinked at them, confused. “For what?”

“My king!” Alpha Pavonis’ cry rose above the other Stars’ chattering, catching Sol’s ear. “May I have a word?” 

Before Sol could open his mouth, Cyon sprang to hold Alpha Pavonis back. “Oh, don’t you dare!” she yelled. “You do not get to skip your way directly to the king, Pav. This is unacceptable!”

The two continued to struggle against each other, the arguing punctuated by warning blasts. V turned to Cann. “Enjoy dealing with that,” they said. “I’m going to do away with the debris from the latest flock.”

“Wait, the latest flock? Vega!” Cann protested, grabbing for their hand, but V was too fast, making a quick exit in a flash of lightning. Cann gestured wildly in Sol’s direction. 

“Stars, silence!” Sol commanded. Instantly, the room quietened. Cyon had managed to pin Pav to the marble floor, before she was pulled to her feet by Sirius, who whispered calming words to her. Satisfied, Sol made his way down the steps. “Bring forth your reports one at a time.” 

“Affirmative,” Cyon said, dropping Sirius’ gloved hand and walking toward Sol. “You see, the matter at hand is that Alpha Pav—”

Sol held up a hand to stop her. “Now, if you will begin by recounting a fellow Star’s argument, I would rather hear it from the source themself.” He glanced at Pav, who was getting back on their feet. “The sky is yours, Alpha Pavonis.”

“Ah… thank you?” Pav stammered out. Quickly regaining composure, They stood tall and trailed their peacock hued robes behind them. “My king, as I’m certain you have gathered from the North Star’s words, we have not one Haunting flock on our hands, but a ready, almost endless queue. Every time we neutralized one at the walls, another rose to take its place. We slowed it down, and even then, Vega might meet another while they’re gone.”

“Are you implying we are low on firepower?” Sol asked. “Has Sirius’ deployment not eased any such concerns?”

“Yes, but—”

“Yes, and,” Cyon corrected sharply. “Show some respect.” Beside her, Sol could have sworn he saw Sirius grinning under the cover of his mask. 

Pav glared at the two, but went on undeterred. “Why continue the grueling task of taking them out one by one, when we have what it takes to frighten them off for good?”

They paused, as if their implication was obvious. Sol glanced back at Cann, who only shrugged. They were as confused as he was. 

“Explain yourself,” Sol said. 

“Why… we have you, my king.” Pav said. “If you send a warning using the most magnificent celestial body in the sky, they’d be forced to take heed, yes?”

“Sol,” Cann began, warningly. “This proposal is too ambitious for its own good.”

“You’ve spoken above your station more than enough, Pav!” Cyon piped up. 

“Sirius,” Sol said. “Please restrain your wife.” 

“Of course, my king!” Sirius’ constant flames brightened as he reached for Cyon’s arm. “Regardless, for the benefit of the court, Pav’s suggestion would be a severe violation of our arrangements with the Medici. Any unforeseen celestial events here will be seen by the entire population of Florence, and we could be—”

“Cyon,” Sol cut in, already tired. “Please silence your wife.”

“Heard loud and clear, my king.” But she was still glaring daggers at Pav, who was looking back at her with presumptuous, smug satisfaction. Sirius was barely managing to hold her back from attacking again.

Sol decided he had no time for this. “Cann!”

Cann stepped forward, wings and arms spread to usher everyone out of the room. “Say no more. Because no one here is my wife.”

“Your loss,” Sirius said, and collective airy laughter echoed around the chapel.

Sol let himself breathe, relieved by the tension dissolving. Sirius laced his fingers through Cyon’s and led her out of the room. The other Stars swiftly followed them, their conversations now far more lighthearted. Only Pav lingered behind, slow to budge. Sol took a tentative step toward them.

“That means you too, Alpha Pavonis!” Cann ordered, cutting any action short now that Pav had no choice but to listen. “Move!” 

“All of your concerns have been heard!” Sol promised the exiting Stars. “Allow me until the next sunrise. We will proceed only with what is best for you!”

“You heard him, next sunrise!” Cann repeated for emphasis. “For skies’ sake, don’t let me catch any of you out of your quarters before then. I will know!” 

Once everyone else left the hearing range, Sol sank into the altar seat, gripping the crown on his head tightly between his hands. He only had some hours to figure this out, and failures awaited him in every direction; which of them would be less shameful to bear? 

Cann cleared their throat. “Is everything alright?” they asked, the calculated performance of the king’s advisor flawlessly shifting to the softness of a friend. 

Sol tried to smile back, but it felt hollow. It always did when he was with Cann. And yet, even as he knew there was no use, he found himself saying, “Yes. Hauntings and mortals have never stopped us before. This is an inconsequential matter.”

Cann raised an eyebrow. They both knew full well nothing involving the sun could ever be inconsequential to Stardom. 

“I… must think this over,” Sol said. “Alone.”

“If you say so,” Cann said easily, no trace of accusation in their voice. Sol watched them gratefully as they marched out of the chapel without another word. He loved it when they played along this way; it almost lulled him into the false comfort of thinking something could get past their sharp, all-seeing eyes. 

With no one except his own light for company, Sol mulled over the decision, thinking about every angle hard enough for flames to rise his fingers, carelessly scorching the wooden chair. Skies above, fragile human furniture was a pain.

He stood, hating how he couldn’t even claim ownership to the walls around him. Resentfully, he let his gaze drift over the painted frescos surrounding him, scenes of mortal processions and hunts. He’d find the pomp endearing if it wasn’t so offensive right then. These were the beings he and his people had to hide from? When would they wake up to the truth that the Stars outshone them in every way?

Except… His stroll through the hall finally came to Cann’s forgotten pile of books. On top rested the one that spoke of the sun’s centrality. 

Some already had woken up, hadn’t they?

Coming to a decision, Sol walked out of the chapel, steps as delicate as air. He could not sit idly. The lurkers thought they were out of reach, with their clever queue rotation, but Pav was right; they’d run at the first sight of Sol. He weaved through the palace corridors and bypassed the nearest window in a flash of light. 

Veiling his fire as well as he could given the stark contrast against night, he fluttered carefully into the air. 

Lightning struck the palace roof; V had arrived, landing unsteadily against the rough masonry. Sol moved instinctively, backing himself against the nearest wall to hide. Did they have to return just as he was leaving?

“Vega?” Sirius’ voice floated in, his footsteps rushing to join them. “Did you manage the mess? The wall remains untouched, yes?”

Catching their breath, V laughed. “Managed,” they repeated bitterly, with a break in their voice that made Sol worry. Were they hurt? “Guess who came to taunt me when I went to clean up?”

Sirius sighed. “Another encampment?”

“I don’t know where they keep coming from! It’s as if they can’t leave the walls unoccupied for even a wingbeat, the stubborn fucks.” 

“We outdo their stubborness, then,” Sirius said, his voice far less confident than the words. Sol’s heart sank; his strongest soldiers were battling themselves to exhaustion, all for the feeble, sheltered minds of this city’s mortals. “We need a plan of action. Between Pav and Cyon, whom do you think—” 

“Stop,” V cut in, irritated. “Your nonsense infighting can wait until sunrise. We aren’t even supposed to be out of our quarters. In, now!” 

Their footsteps and further conversation faded. If Sol’s resolve ever faltered during his exit, this hardened it beyond return. The Hauntings’ intimidation tactic could not be allowed to stand anymore.

Letting the anger fuel him forward, Sol set a course straight for Florence’s walls.

The closer he flew to the edges of the city, the murkier the sky became. Too soon, every precious star adorning the cloak of night disappeared, and he had nothing to glance up at for strength.

Enough, he thought to himself, steeling his nerves. It is I who must give them strength now. 

The weight of the blotted sky burdening his every wingbeat, Sol arrived quietly to the scene of the northern gate. Below, three Hauntings lay in wait on burned grass. Sol didn’t know it was possible to make nighttime even darker; these sentient black holes masquerading as earthly creatures always proved him wrong. He set his feet down on the wall’s brick facade, stepped off the end, and let his light burst forth. 

“Leave these walls!” he yelled.

Immediately, high whistles rang out as the Hauntings rushed into formation. One of the quicker front soldiers, clam-like in shape, launched a black-stained pearl the size of a boulder. 

Sol braced himself, burning hands ready to intercept it… but the hit never came.

Just as the cannonball corralled to knock into Sol, he was on the ground, untouched, the pearl dropping unceremoniously a few feet away from him. The Hauntings froze, confused, inadvertently allowing him a moment to regain his bearings. 

Enough to see that the stained pearl now glowed lavender.

Keeping a flame at the ready to ward off the Hauntings, Sol looked up at the wall behind him and yelled, “Cann!” 

On command, a head emerged at the top. Cann peeked down. “My king,” they greeted, not bothering to sound the slightest bit chastened. 

“What are you doing here?” Sol asked. The clam Haunting unwisely decided to rush him. Sol’s flame cut him down in an instant. “Out of your quarters, at this hour?” 

“I could be asking you the same thing!” Cann swooped down at the last word, tackling both remaining Hauntings at once. “Did you think you could hide from me?” Even as they punctuated each word with a calculated strike, Sol got the feeling the anger in their voice was not for the creatures. “Or did you want me to graciously look away, as you crept off to this endless fight?”

Successfully, Cann brought a frail reptilian Haunting flat onto the ground. The companion, an armored, plump one, continued to trade blows with them.

Sol rushed to their side, knocking the Haunting off course with one fatal punch to the head. He shook off the flame, triumphant. “That will teach you.” 

“Sol…” Cann whispered warningly.

“Don’t… think this is over,” a new voice said, wet and halting. The clam Haunting was still on the ground, a hole burned into his weak internal flesh. That did nothing to compromise the smugness of his declaration. “You can’t take us all.”

Sol’s fist burned, but Cann touched his arm, silently telling him to save it.

“Wonderful,” Cann muttered. “Another entry in this queue will be here any moment.”

“Oh, don’t act as if this was wrong of me!” Sol shot back. “Would you rather I sat comfortably in the palace while this went on? Pav said—”

“Pav is a showboating windbag,” they said drily. “Why are we listening to them?”

“It is our only option,” he said. “These Hauntings need to be cleared out, and if the cost is some inconvenience to the mortals—”

“The cost is you, Sol!” Cann’s voice rose to a volume Sol had never heard before. Softer, they went on, “You don’t have anything to prove to mortals, or Hauntings… anyone.” Desperate, they reached for his hand. “The sun’s face is all the more precious because it’s our secret. Why would you throw that away?”

“Cann…” Sol’s words died in his throat. He never considered what he’d be giving away. Even if he frightened the Hauntings, what would become of the Stars if they were unveiled to the mortals thanks to his carelessness?

He was the center of the world. For the first time, he hated that truth.

A dark mist closed in, followed by quick feet hitting the ground. More Hauntings were coming. Sol’s heart raced. What was he going to do, surrender to the enemy, or betray the secret? He racked his brain, at an impossible loss.

Until he locked eyes with the Star beside him, and everything fell into place.

“Do you know what I’m thinking?” he asked.

Cann’s smile shone even brighter than their burning eyes. “I know everything.” 

Without having to say anything else, the two of them parted, Cann holding their ground against the incoming flock as Sol took to the sky. Trusting Cann to keep the Hauntings busy, Sol watched the horizon, waiting for the perfect moment. 

The smallest glimmer of the coming dawn’s fire was all he needed. “Now!” he yelled. 

He glanced down, only to realize with horror that he’d distracted Cann at a crucial juncture. A well-toned amphibian Haunting seized the opportunity, wrestling Cann to their knees as the force of the flock descended on them. Sol hovered uselessly on the spot, paralyzed by the sight, his eyes darting between the battle below and the sunrise. 

He could not fail. Not like this.

Then, the sky cleared.

A concentrated beam of lavender light had cut through an opening between the Haunting’s limbs and shot into the sky like a beacon. It reached its zenith and dispersed, sending a dome of thin, shimmering illusion descending onto the battleground. 

A curtain. They were safe from outside eyes.

Cann brushed their horrified assailants off and struggled to their feet. They looked up at Sol. “Do it!” 

The sun was now painting the sky red. Sol caught hold of its fire and, working like a strategically placed glass, focused its wrath on the toad Haunting who had led the latest charge. The skin ignited. High-pitched screams pierced the air, from the toad and the rest of the flock alike. Sol glared, unblinking, making his silent threat clear. The sounds faded mercifully fast into the distance as the Hauntings made their escape, away from the walls of Florence. Cann joined Sol in the air, wasting no time in putting distance between themselves and the retreating flock.

“Are there more coming?” Sol asked.

Cann briefly scrunched their face in concentration, then relaxed. “No,” they said, satisfied. “All of them are retreating.”

The weight of the sky seemed to be lifted off Sol’s shoulders as the two Stars made their way to the wall. They’d done the impossible, put an end to the endless fight. 

Sol landed on a higher palisade of the wall, and beamed at Cann when they followed suit. “Let it never be said you don’t deliver, Canopus.”

“Never be said?” Cann asked. “Even by you?”

The joke lacked their usual flair. Still, Sol didn’t let that chip away at the euphoria of a hard-won victory. “You’ll catch me saying no such thing.” He clapped Cann on the shoulder. “Truthfully, I don’t know how you—”

The force of the playful hit made Cann stumble a step forward. They caught themself in time… but that slight gesture shouldn’t have fazed one of his strongest Stars at all. Sol noticed too late that they were clutching their robes pointedly to the side with both hands, as if to cover something.

He stood at attention, now alarmed. “Cann…?”

“It’s alright!” they managed through shallow breaths, smiling so genuinely that for a moment, Sol fully believed the words. “We won.”

They collapsed at his feet, and the protective dome above faded to nothing.

“No!” Sol sank to his knees beside them. He turned them over to reveal viscous black staining their robes. The lead Haunting had poisoned them in the scuffle; it had corroded deep enough to graze their skin. He brought a flaming palm to the sizzling wound. Even in the warmth of his arms, Cann was shivering. Their eyes did not open. “Fight it,” he begged.

He couldn’t win this way. This cost was too much to bear. 

“Over there!” a voice called from the sky. V led Cyon and Pav to the wall, their excitement and relief palpable through the wind. As they flew closer though, V’s smile instantly fell. The three Stars landed on the top of the wall.

“Cann, you idiot…” V cursed under their breath. “What happened?”

“I used the sun to drive them out,” Sol said, not taking his eyes off Cann.

“Oh?” Pav asked, with barely restrained glee.

“But I made certain no one would see it.”

“Naturally,” Cyon said, pointedly glaring at Pav. “Because how thoughtless would the alternative have been, right?” 

Sol’s face burned with embarrassment. As if he needed to be told now.

“Both of you need to shut it!” V took it upon themself to say. “Make yourselves useful and get them to Sirius, before the Haunting venom spreads too far.”

The Stars gently pried Cann away from Sol’s grasp. Still continuing their debate wordlessly with their eyes, Cyon and Pav flew off, supporting Cann’s weight between them. Sol watched after them, only snapping out of his thoughts when V spoke.

“The old ‘illusion of safety’ curtain trick, yes?” V asked, impressed. “Why didn’t I think of that?” 

“Would it have ended better if you had?”

“Don’t say that, it ended well enough! If the Hauntings have even half a brain between them, you scared them off for good!” V argued. “And Cann will be fine. It’s Cann, for skies’ sake.”

“They better be.”

V sighed. “I’m going to clean up this mess.” They gestured vaguely to the fires and black puddles. “Go back to the palace. See how they’re holding up.”

Sol was off to the palace practically before they finished speaking. To mask his flight, he followed a sunbeam; it was, thankfully, much easier to disguise himself in the daytime.

He practically kicked down the ornate door to the chapel. 

“Come now!” Sirius was saying. His gloves were off, and his constant flames were uninhibited as he tried to hold a struggling Cann down to the altar. He was succeeding, but only barely; Cann almost matched his strength. “Would it end to you hold still for—”

Sol cleared his throat, and the two of them snapped to attention. “Everything is in order, I assume?” he said.

“Yes, my king!” Sirius said. “But I need to attend to them at least until noon. It’s simply Haunting wound protocol.”

Cann scoffed. “Spare me the protocol, Sirius. The poison barely even took.”

Sirius crossed his arms. “And whose fire is to be credited for that?”

“If I may,” Sol said, amused. “Sirius, allow me a word with Cann. Protocol will be followed unfettered after this.”

Sirius bowed his head and stood. “As you wish.” Leaning closer to Sol, he whispered, “Make sure to dedicate at least some of your time to telling them to stay put.” He vacated the chapel, leaving Sol and Cann alone and shutting the door securely behind him. 

“Ironic,” Cann remarked. “That he believes you can tell me anything about staying put.”

Sol didn’t return the humor. “Do not deflect from the matter at hand.”

“Oh, are we doing this? Fine,” Cann said with a roll of their eyes, like they were being asked to perform a menial chore. “Yes, I’m perfectly intact and will be back to fighting shape by next sunrise. No, the poison is not your fault, and if you even try to insist otherwise, you fundamentally misunderstand why I followed you. And don’t worry, as far as the other Stars will know, your unbelievably rash stunt did not happen, and the curtain was our brilliant plan all along.” They took a breath. “Did I miss anything?”

Sol stammered a few half hearted responses, having to give up in the end to avoid appearing even more foolish. He took a seat beside Cann. “I wish you would stop taking all the gravitas out of my heartstopping speeches,” he said finally, smiling despite himself.

“You are very predictable.”

Companionable silence overtook them. Sol draped a wing around Cann’s side in case the biting cold of the poison hadn't subsided. Cann did not pull away.

“It bothers you, doesn't it?” they asked softly. “That I can read your intentions like an open book, but you can never have that certainty about mine?”

“It would help,” Sol admitted. “If I knew you intended to take every hit at the wall…”

“You couldn't have stopped me,” Cann said. “No more than I could have stopped you from sneaking out.”

“Well, thank the skies for that, I suppose.” He watched the murals around him, feeling pride, more powerful than the envy or indifference the pieces had inspired before. Despite it all, the truth remained that he’d survived more in the past hours than the commemorated mortals would face in a lifetime. He could make peace with that, if nothing else. “Stardom lives to see another day.”

[neverendingford]

.

[inkedinshadows]

Unraveling Truths

This is a bonus scene for my miniseries "A Helping Hand". You can read part 1 of 3 here. I know I wrote it in August, but I got a few requests for more so here we are.

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: Azriel finally explains to his mate what the wingspan business is all about.

Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), written in 3rd POV (matching the rest of the series)

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: I love time zones because it’s 2am here but it’s still the 16th in the US so I’m technically not late :) This fic is just another proof that I can't write drabbles lol. Anyway, hank you @azrielsshadows42 for the inspo 🫶🏻 and thank you @azrielappreciationweek it was so much fun writing for this event 💙💙

“You still haven't told me.”

She watched him from his bed, the sight still so new that Azriel's heartbeat quickened each time he saw it.

For the past week, she had spent every night with him, usually in his room. Yet walking in to find her reading a book while she waited for him was something he was still getting used to. And something he would never take for granted.

Azriel sat on the edge of the bed, leaning closer to brush a kiss to her temple as she set the book down. “Told you what, beautiful?”

The corner of his lips curled up at the small blush that colored her cheeks, even after a week of hearing that nickname. He was never going to stop using it.

He began to take off his boots, holding his breath as she knelt behind him and unfastened the latches of his shirt. Her fingers brushed the base of his wings, and he had to muster all his self-control to keep his body from reacting.

“About wingspan,” she replied casually. “You still haven't explained it.”

He froze, sitting a bit straighter. “Why do you want to know?”

She undid the last latch, and though the shirt now hung loosely around his torso, he made no move to remove it.

“Because I want to know all about you.” She moved to sit beside him, seemingly unaware of his slight change in demeanor. “And because you said you'd explain, but you still haven't.”

Azriel swallowed thickly. He'd been happy to hold her in his arms every night, knowing she'd be the first thing he saw in the morning. His hands had never wandered too freely over her body. He wanted to take things slow with her, not only to respect the trauma she had endured, but also because she wasn't just another girl. She was his mate, and he'd be damned if he ruined things by rushing them.

But he couldn't deny he had thought about how she would feel. How she would taste. How she would look while he pleasured her.

Her question about wingspan certainly didn’t help.

And if she was bringing it up again after a week, her curiosity wasn’t likely to fade anytime soon.

“Alright,” he finally said, and she rewarded him with that beautiful smile of hers—the one that never failed to make his heart skip a beat. “Rumor has it that the span of an Illyrian’s wings reflects the size of… certain body parts.”

She frowned, a small crease appearing on her brow. He resisted the urge to smooth it away with his thumb.

“What body parts?” she asked, her gaze wandering up and down his body as if she could see the answer somewhere.

He was glad she wasn’t looking at his face when he replied, “Intimate body parts, Y/N.”

Her eyes shot up to meet his, wide with surprise and shock. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she looked down again. Straight at his crotch.

Azriel had to draw on five hundred years of composure to keep himself from shifting—and, more importantly, from hardening under her gaze. She’s just surprised, he told himself. That’s why she’s looking. Nothing more.

When she met his eyes again, her voice was quiet, as though she was too shy to ask but couldn’t help herself.

“And, uh…” She paused, clearing her throat before finishing. “Are those just rumors?”

The words slipped out before he could think. “No. It’s true.”

She studied him for a moment, and he feared he’d said too much and made her uncomfortable. But before he could apologize, she spoke again.

“Does Cassian really have the largest wingspan?”

He couldn’t stop the smirk that spread across his lips. “He likes to brag about it, but no, he doesn’t.” And though he knew he probably shouldn’t, he added, “I do.”

Her eyes widened, dropping to his crotch again. This time, his body reacted before he could stop it, and he felt himself beginning to harden in his pants. Her cheeks flushed an ever deeper shade of red.

“Hey, it's alright,” he murmured, tilting her chin up so she would look at him. “I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

To his surprise, she gave him a soft smile. “You didn't. I asked. It's just…” Her voice trailed off, and she looked away for a moment before returning her focus to him.

“I just don't have much experience,” she whispered.

Azriel needed to change the topic immediately before his mind began running wild, thinking of all the things he could show her, all the sensations he could make her feel, all the possibilities. He reeled in his thoughts.

Sliding an arm around her waist, he pulled her closer. “It's alright,” he repeated, pressing another kiss to her temple. “We don't have to do anything. I don't want you to feel pressured.”

“But what if…” She hesitated, but as she bit her lip, she placed her hand on his leg, just above his knee but close enough for Azriel to be acutely aware of every small movement of her fingers. He was caught in a suspended moment, where everything hinged on her next words.

“What if I want to do something?”

His heart pounded in his chest. “You… want to?”

Despite the blush still coloring her cheeks, she held his gaze and nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. He struggled not to kiss her right then and there and let his hands explore every inch of her body.

“Tell me what you want, beautiful,” he said instead, keeping his voice quiet and steady. “Anything you want, you can have it.”

She looked down, her gaze landing on the erection he could no longer hide. “I want to help you with that,” she murmured, her hand sliding up to his thigh and squeezing gently.

Azriel sucked in a breath. Unable to stop himself, he shifted, spreading his legs slightly to bring her hand closer to where he wanted it.

“Are you sure?” he asked. He needed her, desperately, but he didn’t want her to feel obligated.

Instead of answering, she stepped off the bed. Her eyes never left his as she moved between his parted legs, her fingers reaching for his shirt. He didn't stop her as she tugged it off, revealing his tanned chest.

“I'm sure, Az,” she whispered, her finger tracing the swirling lines of his tattoos. She'd done it many times before, but now it felt more intimate, more intentional. “Let me do this for you.”

He couldn't hold back any longer. Not when she looked at him with rosy cheeks and eyes full of desire. They both wanted this, and he wasn’t going to turn her down.

Cupping her face in his hands, Azriel pulled her in for a kiss. As their lips met, the bond between them came to life, glowing bright and golden in his chest and filling him with warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of his growing arousal.

“Go on, then,” he murmured against her lips when he finally found the will to break the kiss. “You can do whatever you like.”

She smiled, and under Azriel's attentive gaze, she knelt between his legs. From where he sat, the neckline of her nightgown left little to the imagination. He swallowed, his breath catching as she began unbuttoning his pants. He lifted his hips just enough for her to slide them down his legs, along with his underwear, leaving him bare before her. Her eyes widened slightly as the took him in.

“You weren't lying about it,” she murmured, glancing up at him. “I didn't expect you to be… this big.”

His smirk turned smug. “You certainly know how to flatter a male's ego.”

She chuckled, averting her gaze for only a moment before reaching out. Her hand wrapped around his aching cock, making him gasp audibly. At the sound, a smile of delight appeared on her face, and she began to stroke him slowly, her movements gentle and exploratory.

His eyes locked with hers, and, encouraged by the connection, she grew bolder. Her grip tightened slightly, and he instinctively bucked his hips forward. Still, he held back as much as he could, letting her set the pace she was most comfortable with. But she leaned closer, her eyes searching his for permission, a silent question lingering in them.

Azriel brushed her cheek, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “Whatever you like,” he repeated in a whisper.

She nodded, and as his hand slipped away, she leaned in, her tongue flicking out to run along his cock before her lips closed around his tip. He sucked in a breath, resisting the urge to push himself deeper into her mouth and holding his body still. The only sign of his impatience was the faint rustle of his wings behind him.

She continued to stroke him slowly, teasing him with gentle squeezes and soft touches, her tongue swirling around his head until precum leaked out. But with each of his sighs and the small, involuntary twitches of his hips, her confidence grew. She took him a few inches deeper, hesitating briefly sliding before her lips farther down his cock, stretching her jaw to fit as much of him as she could.

“Fuck…” he groaned, the word escaping his lips as she hollowed her cheeks. Her mouth was warm, wet and impossibly tight, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to thrust into her. Instead, he tangled his fingers in her hair—not to guide her, but to ground himself, needing the connection, needing to feel her any way he could.

His little outburst seemed to wash away the last traces of her shyness. She began to bob her head, still using her hand to cover what her mouth couldn’t take, her tongue swirling around him with ease. Her eyes stayed locked on his, and Cauldron boil him, Azriel could have come right then.

His mate was on her knees before him, pleasuring him in a way he had never dared to dream of. Over the last week, he'd fantasized about it once or twice, but he’d assumed she wasn’t ready to take that step and relished the simple intimacy of a gentle, teasing touch while cuddling.

But here she was, her boldness lighting a fire inside him.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, a moan spilling from his lips.

She blushed again but only moved faster, taking him deeper. His eyes rolled back, and his fingers tightened in her hair. When she whimpered softly, the sound sent a shock of pleasure through him, clouding his mind and driving him closer to the edge. He rocked his hips once, unable to hold back any longer.

“I’m… I’m close, sweetheart,” he panted. He didn’t care if he didn’t last long, didn't care that she’d been working him for only a few minutes. His release coiled tighter in his gut, his breaths coming faster, and he knew he couldn't hold it back. “You should stop if you don’t want me to come in your mouth.”

But the desire in her eyes only burned brighter, and she didn’t stop. Instead, she put even more effort into it, her free hand resting on his thigh while the other one squeezed gently at the base of his cock. When she hollowed her cheeks again, her warm mouth enveloping him so perfectly, Azriel’s control shattered.

With a groan, pleasure crashed over him, his release spilling down her throat. She swallowed every drop, the rhythmic contractions of her mouth around him drawing out his pleasure for a few more moments before he relaxed again, loosening his grip on her hair as he struggled to catch his breath.

After a moment, she pulled back, and Azriel immediately felt the absence of her warmth around him. Her hand slipped away as well, and for a beat, they simply looked at each other, twin smiles of satisfaction on their faces.

“You were wonderful,” he said eventually, helping her stand and guiding her to sit on his lap. “That was incredible.”

Her blush returned, deepening at his praise, an endearing sight he would never grow tired of. It made him want to keep complimenting her, especially after the pleasure she’d just given him.

He kissed her, savoring the softness of her lips and the familiar taste he’d come to cherish over the past week, now mixed with a hint of own release. His tongue slid into her mouth, entwining with hers while his hand drifted down to her thigh, brushing the hem of her nightgown. She didn’t pull away, but Azriel sensed the sudden tension seizing her body, despite her attempt to hide it.

He immediately withdrew his hand, silently cursing himself for assuming too much, especially after being so careful to let her dictate their pace.

Pulling back from the kiss, he searched her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I should have asked.”

She shook her head, but she didn't look at him. “No, it's my fault. When I said I don't have much experience, I… I actually meant I don't have any experience.”

Azriel did his best to mask his surprise, not wanting to make her feel more self-conscious. Gently, he placed his hand on her waist, drawing slow, soothing circles over the fabric of her nightgown.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked softly.

Her eyes remained fixed downward as she nervously fidgeted with her fingers. “Because you're five centuries old,” she whispered. “You must have so much experience with these things, and I don't, and I didn't want you to be disappointed if I—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, unwilling to let her continue down that path. Tilting her chin up with a gentle finger, he waited patiently for her to meet his eyes. When she didn't, he murmured, “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

Slowly, her gaze slid to his. Azriel offered her a soft, reassuring smile, hoping it would ease her worries.

“I don't care if you don't have any experience,” he said, his hand still caressing her side. “I'm not disappointed. All that matters to me is you and whether you're comfortable with whatever we're doing.”

She nodded, though some tension still lingered in her body. He could tell she struggled to believe him, but he wanted to make it clear that he would respect any boundary, any hesitation. She came first, and she always would. Everything else could wait.

“We can take things as slow as you want to,” he continued. “I won't rush you. You're in control, Y/N. Always. Okay?”

At last, he felt her body relax, a relieved smile appearing on her face. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

“Good.” Azriel smiled back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Will you let me get up for a moment? I'll wash up quickly, and then we can go to sleep.”

Her smile grew, a hint of playful anticipation gleaming in her eyes. “Can we cuddle?”

He chuckled. “Of course we can cuddle, beautiful.”

As she slid off his lap, he stole one last kiss before getting up and heading to the bathroom. He could feel her eyes following him, and he couldn't help but smirk.

He wanted her, but if she needed more time, he'd give it to her without question, even after what she'd just done for him. After all, her trust and comfort were more important than his need, and he knew that waiting would only make the moment she was truly ready even more special. The wait would be worth it.

Because she was worth it. She was worth everything.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

[and-claudia]

Yours pt. 2 (Paddy x reader) (Speak No Evil)

Okay for now I'm just calling this miniseries Yours until I find a title I actually like.

Warnings: Paddy (he is a warning himself), manipulation, age gap, mentions of death, controlling relatives, lies, lots of lies, mentions of p in v sex, morning after pill, you think Paddy is being sweet but its mostly all manipulating

This story will get dark. this is your warning, this part isn't really that dark

Word Count: 3200+

Taglist (Read the rules, follow them or I will remove your response)

I woke up at some point, feeling something on the inside of my leg. When my eyes slowly opened, the room was mostly dark with just a soft glow coming from the bathroom door that was half open.

“Sorry, darling. Didn’t mean to wake you. Just wanted to get you at least semi-cleaned up.” He said from where he was sitting beside me, gently wiping away the evidence of our time together earlier in the night. 

He had put on a pair of sweats, but I was still lying on top of the sheets, completely naked. A small shiver ran down my back, causing me to wrap my arms around myself. 

“Here, put this on.” He said, handing me what I could only assume was one of his shirts. 

“Thanks.” I said, sitting up as he finished wiping off part of my leg. 

I put the shirt on, relishing in how it smelt like him, before looking over at him, “What time is it?” 

“Early. You can go back to sleep.” He said. 

I nodded, “Imma go to the bathroom first.” I said, turning to get up off the bed. 

“Ciria’s makeup wipes are in there if you need some.” He said as I walked off, and I gave him a nod. 

I went and did my business. Honestly I was surprised and quite frankly curious as to how he had managed to clean me up so well without me waking up sooner, considering how much of a mess there was between my legs when I fell asleep. However, I was too tired to question it too much. Once I was done, I washed my hands and found the makeup wipes he had mentioned. I quickly wiped off whatever wake was left on my face from both sweating at the club and jumping into the pool. 

When I came back out, Paddy had moved from his spot on the bed to the chair in the corner. 

“There’s something on the side table for you.” He said, nodding to the one closer to me. 

On it sat a water bottle and a box of Plan B. 

“I know you said you were on birth control, but better to be safe than sorry.” He said. 

I nodded and grabbed the box, “No, I agree, thanks.” I said before taking it. 

The sheets had been pulled back, clearly indicating that he was okay with me sleeping under them rather than on top like I had been earlier. However, he wasn’t making any moves to join me. 

“Are you coming back to bed?” I asked. 

“I wasn’t sure if that would be okay with you… I didn’t want to cross any boundaries.” He said with what I would’ve sworn was a nervous laugh, but Paddy didn’t seem like the type of man to ever get nervous, especially in the bedroom. 

“Paddy, I am pretty fucking sure you bruised my cervix last night… I don’t think we have boundaries…” I said. 

He laughed a little at my comment but still stood from his chair and came to join me on the other side of the bed. Once he was settled in, I scooted over to him and looked up at him from where my head was resting on his chest. 

“I meant what I said… if you truly want me, I’m yours, Paddy.” I said. 

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he just leaned down and kissed me gently. I responded immediately, returning the kiss before a yawn forced me to pull away. Paddy laughed to himself and smiled at me. 

“Get some rest, baby.” He said gently. 

We finally woke up a few hours later. Our families had plans for brunch at a cafe a few blocks away and we both needed to get up and get ready for that. Paddy got up and got dressed fairly quickly after deciding to lie to Ben and Louise, saying that I had gotten sick on my dress and needed a change of clothes to get dressed over here. 

3rd person PoV

Paddy walked through the halls of the hotel until he got to the room where Yn’s aunt and uncle were staying. He knocked twice, then waited. Louise opened the door and was shocked to find Paddy there. 

“Hi, Paddy… where’s Yn?” She asked, clearly worried for his niece. 

“Oh, you fret far too much over her, Louise. Don’t worry, she and Ciria are back in our room. I think she was getting in the shower when I stopped by.” Paddy said. 

“Stopped by?” Louise asked, confused as she leaned against the doorframe. 

“Yes, when we got back, it was quite late. We didn’t want to bother you, so I let her and Cira take our room. It was a king-sized bed and the two of them seemed to really be hitting it off and didn’t seem to mind having to share. I slept on the floor in the room we got Ant.” 

“He has his own room?” She asked. 

“Yes, it’s across the hall. Kinda hard to enjoy certain aspects of your vacation with your kid 5 feet away from you, if you know what I mean.” He said with a laugh as Louise smiled politely, but it was clear she was uncomfortable, “Anyways… I came by to check that our brunch plans were still a go?” 

Lousie looked back into the room to Ben, who just shrugged. 

“Yeah, we’re just about to get ready.” She said after turning back to Paddy.

“Perfect! I also came by to get Yn’s clothes… she got a little sick on her dress. And so she asked me to come by and get her clothes for her. She wrote down what she needed on here.” He said, handing the note to her. 

Lousie looked at it and was a little confused. It listed the sundress she wanted, her makeup bag, what she needed to do her makeup, the jewelry she wanted and where it was in her bag, and what shoes she wanted… but that was it. It lacked any undergarments of any kind. 

“O-okay. One second…” She said, pushing the door shut. 

“What’s that?” Ben asked, seeing the note in her hand. 

“The clothes Yn needs… she threw up on her dress or something, so she’s going to get ready with Ciria in their room, I guess.” She said, walking past him to get to Yn’s suitcase. 

She collected everything that was requested but hesitated, seeing her undergarment bag… maybe she had just forgotten to write it down. The dress she was asked for wasn’t form-fitting; it was nice and flowy, so she shouldn’t have to worry about lines if she wore underwear. After some debate, she grabbed the first pair from the bag, not wanting to invade her privacy, and folded it up into the dress. She put everything into a small bag and went back to the door to Paddy. 

“Here, that’s everything she asked for… I put a few things she didn’t ask for as well, like her uh- her daily medications, purse, toothbrush, that type of stuff…I just figured she forgot to write that down.” Louse said, handing it to him. 

“Thank you. I will let her know. And I will see you lot later!” He said before walking off. 

He got back to his room just as Yn was getting out of the shower. He knocked on the bathroom door and handed her the bag, which she thanked him for with a small kiss. 

He then went and grabbed some clothes for Ciria before walking across the hall to give them to her. 

“Can’t I come back over and get ready with you?” Ciria asked as he handed her the clothes. 

“No, Yn is still there. Get ready here, and get the kid ready, too. We have brunch with the Daltons.” He said. 

“Why is she still there?” She pressed, a pang of jealousy laced in her voice. 

Paddy didn’t reply. He just sent her a look that warned her to quit asking questions. 

“Sorry, I’ll go get ready.” She said, and he nodded once in approval. 

“Remember, all three of us went out last night, and you and Yn slept in the other room. You go along with anything I or Yn say. She believes we do this all the time, I told her that you wanted me to have the night with her. You go along with that. Got it?” He asked, making sure she went along with the string of lies he told Ben and Louise. 

“Yes, sir.” She said before closing the door to get ready.

Yn’s PoV 

Soon, everyone was ready, and we were waiting for my aunt, uncle, and cousin. To tell the truth, I was sad when Ciria and Ant joined us. It was nice pretending it was just Paddy and I, but I had to remind myself that he had a wife and kid, I was just his fun vacation side piece for now. Then, when I saw my family, it felt like even that was ripped away. 

“Everyone ready?” Ciria asked, holding onto Paddy’s arm, to say I wasn’t a little jealous would be a lie. 

“Yeah, I think so.” Louise said, and we all began walking to the restaurant. 

“So, did you have fun last night, Yn?” Ben asked while we sat down waiting for our food.

“Yeah.” I said with a shrug. 

“Still a bit tired, I bet. We had a pretty crazy night.” Paddy said, “Right girls?” 

“Yes. Oh Yn was so much fun to dance with! I wish you all didn’t live so far. I would kill for girls' nights with her… and of course you, Louise.” Ciria said, much to my surprise. 

“I would love that.” I said with a smile over at her. 

Paddy was sat between us. Since it was a round table, there was no real way to separate the two families, not that I was complaining. His knee kept grazing mine under the table, and I was trying not to let myself wonder if it was on purpose or accident. It wasn’t until he leaned forward to tell my uncle something and his hand landed on my leg that I knew it was on purpose. I watched him as he spoke, unable to keep the smile from my face. Until a name brought my attention to my uncle. 

“Me and my brother Brandon used to work together years and years ago.” Ben said. 

“18 years ago.” I corrected him. 

He sighed, “Yeah, 18 years ago…” 

“Oh, what happened? Did you have a falling out?” Paddy asked, seemingly unaware of the tension building between my uncle and me.

“He died.” I said bluntly, “He and his wife, my mother. I was only three. They were in the car, heading to Ben’s place to meet his new girlfriend. I was staying with my grandparents. A drunk driver hit them head-on.” I said, staring at the mimosa I had ordered. 

I picked it up and downed it in one go before excusing myself from the table. Ben never talked about him around me. I wasn’t sad. I was pissed. Everytime he talked about my dad it was a slap in the face that he had actually got to remember him and have memories of him, and I didn’t. And it was his fault. 

I had left the restaurant and went and sat on a bench a little ways down the road. Even though Paddy was there and I wanted to spend as much time with him before our paths parted but I had zero intentions on going back to that brunch. 

“Can I sit?” I heard his voice say cautiously as if speaking to an injured wild animal. 

“Sure… sorry for storming off.” I said, not looking at him. 

“It’s okay… Ben explained.” He said and scoffed. 

“What’d he say? That I still wasn’t over the untimely death of my parents? That I was sent to live with my oh so loving godfather?” I asked sarcastically. 

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it. He said he and Louise raised you, tried to get you to go to therapy to work through you feelings about what happened.” He said. 

I shook my head, “I don’t need therapy, not now at least. Louise only wanted me to go because Agnes goes and she’s into all that new age parenting. But I know exactly how I feel about it, now, and I got there without a fucking therapist.” 

I took a deep breath before explaining what really happened, “I was at my grandparents. Ben had invited my dad and mom to his apartment to meet the girl he had been dating, Louise. On the drive over, they got into a car accident. No one survived… it was their fault. If they weren’t going to his apartment then my parents would still be here.” 

Deep down I knew I sounded crazy. But it was the only way I could rationalize their death. 

“I’m sorry, darling. Come here.” He said opening his arms for me. 

I hugged and he held me close. 

“Then when Agnes was born, I was pretty much cast aside. Everything was about her because she’s their really daughter. And I was left to the sideline to watch her get the childhood they took away from me…I’m sorry, I know that makes me sound crazy probably…” I said when I pulled away. 

“Not at all.” He said much to my surprise. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, I’ve seen how they treat you now. I think they realized their fuck up and are trying to reverse it now but its too little too late to try and parent you. What’s been done is done and they can’t undo what they did to you. I’m so sorry you were treated like that.” He said. 

“Thank you, Paddy. I’ve never really told anyone all of this and I was sure if I did they would think I was insane… by the way I’m not going back to that brunch. Fuck him. Feel free to go back. I’ll be fine.” I said, secretly hoping he would stay. 

“Well I told them I would go find you… and I think it’s taking a lot longer to find you than I expected. Come on lets get get something to eat.” He said with a smirk. 

Although I really liked that idea, part of me felt guilty about keeping him from his family. 

“I can’t keep you from your family, Paddy.” I said. 

“You can if I’m the one offering. Besides we only have a couple more days together. I intended to use every excuse I can to spend time with you.” He said, leaning over to kiss me. 

A pang of sadness hit me suddenly at that. I knew it was the truth, but I didn’t want to think about that. I knew the likely hood of me seeing him after this vacation were slim. 

“However…” He drew out the word, catching my attention, “After Ben told explained everything about what happened to you and how you all ended up moving and everything. I suggested you all come out to our farm for a bit. Give you a break from the city, get a change of scenery. I told it may do you some good, being out there with the fresh air.” 

“Seriously, when?” I asked, admittedly a bit too excited. 

“Whenever!” He said smiling at my enthusiasm, “I just need your help convince them to come out and see… for you to come see me.” 

“I will.” I promised. 

“Good, now, how about that lunch, hm?” He asked raising an eyebrow and offering me his hand. I nodded with a smile and took his hand before we stood together and he walked us further away from where everyone else was having brunch as we went off to do our own thing. 

In the following days I spent as much time as I could with Paddy. Any excuse I could think of to get close to him I went with. At one point I even agreed to play chicken fight in the pool with Agnes on my shoulders while Paddy had Ant on his. But when the day came for us to leave I was overcome by sadness. Paddy made me feel seen and made me feel more alive that I’ve ever felt before. And now I was leaving that behind back to being the bane of my uncles existence. 

As we came down from our room with our bags, Paddy, Ciria and Ant were all there to see us off. I smiled when I saw him and his smile grew even more when they landed on me. I had secrently kept the shirt he had let me sleep in after the night at the club and I was wearing it right now. 

I waited as everyone else said bye to one another. I gave Ciria a hug telling her I hoped that we could visit soon and her and I could hang out more. I even gave Ant a small side hug telling him Agnes and I had fun playing with him and his dad in the pool. Then I got my turn with Paddy. 

“Oh come here.” He said, wrapping into a tight hug just had he had done with Louise. 

I hugged him back and took a long inhale of his scent knowing I wouldn’t be able to see him for awhile. 

“You look great wearing my clothes… god I’m going to miss you, and your perfect cunt.” He said quietly so no one else would hear. 

I sighed, “I’m going to miss you too… don’t forget, I’m yours.” I whispered back, before pulling away. 

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead, which didn’t seem too suspicious considering he gave Lousie a small peck on the cheek as well. 

“Here, let me help.” Paddy said grabbing my bag along with Agnes’s before following Ben and Louise out to the car. 

We got loaded up and drove away as I sat in silence in the back seat. My only hope was that I could convince my aunt and uncle to actually go out to the farm so I could see him again. 

Taglist

@dreamygirli3 @comicbookslut @dianaxx99 @one-of-thewalkingdead @moist-for-xavier @myartistrash02 @fairy-cores-world d @mayamidge

[dearestro]

Saturday Mornings

Summary: Even lazy mornings can be exciting...for some people. Part of the Chase Miniseries.

Warnings: Innuendos and crude language.

You squinted your eyes at the sudden stream of light as you awoke from your slumber. Your husband buried his face in the crook of your neck with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. It was early Saturday morning, so everyone got to sleep in. Of course, you felt that Robert had other plans than sleeping this morning as he not only kissed your neck but you could also feel something prodding your thigh. You rolled over to face him as he started nipping at your skin.

"Really?" You raised a brow as his hands crept up your body.

"Come on." He almost whined. "Layla's not up. We have time..." He murmured against your skin. "And how else am I supposed to deal with this?" He said, his body flush against yours so that you could feel exactly what he was talking about.

"Well, you have a hand, don't you?" You teased as he continued to trail his lips all over your skin. You looked at the clock before sighing. "I suppose we have time-" You were cut off as a squeal escaped your lips when he rolled on top of you but were quickly quieted when he pressed his lips to yours. As hands trailed bodies and mouths fought for dominance, you were suddenly interrupted. 

"Mommy? Daddy? What are you doing?" You froze at the little girl's voice, thankful you both were still clothed...although boxers and modest lingerie wasn't the greatest to be caught in...

"We're-we're-" You struggled to find an excuse not wanting to have 'the talk' with a five year old.

"We're wrestling, sweetheart. Daddy's winning." You rolled your eyes at your husband's excuse before turning back to your daughter.

"Why don't you go downstairs? I'll be down in a minute to get breakfast, baby." She nodded before pattering to the kitchen. You went to get up as soon as she was out of sight, but someone had other plans. "Babe, we can't do this now. I have to get up and get her breakfast before she comes up here again."

"I can be quick!" Your husband whined.

"Oh, I know just how quick you can be, but even that's not quick enough for a hungry toddler." You chuckled as he frowned at the jab before getting off of you.

"Well, what am I supposed to do with..." He motioned to his nether regions as you leaned down to kiss his cheek.

"Take a cold shower and pray she doesn't remember this moment when she's old enough to realize what 'wrestling' actually means." You went into the closet to put on a robe and some slippers before coming back out. "Or do it yourself." You shrugged as you turned to leave. "But not on the bed!" You shouted over your shoulder, not wanting to have to do laundry because your husband couldn't be bothered to do it into the toilet. 

You made your way to the kitchen and found Layla sitting patiently at the table.

"Fruit?" She nodded her head as you got her a little bowl (no strawberries as they had been restricted to special occasions only after the last incident) and some juice as she waited. By the time you were finished and had given the food to the little girl, Robert had joined your side.

"Who won?" Layla asked, finally breaking the silence. Robert looked down at the little girl confusion spread across his features.

"What?" The girl giggled at her dad's confusion. 

"When wrestling!" 

"I did!" You said as you smirked at your husband before bending down to your daughter and mock whispering, "Daddy's not a very good wrestler." She laughed at the 'secret' you had just told her. From behind, you could hear him scoff.

"Please. I'm an excellent wrestler. I demand a rematch!" You smiled before wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking his lips. 

"Sure you are, baby." You mocked his pouting.

"Well, if the two of you are only gonna make fun of me, I guess I won't make pancakes." You frowned, letting go of him.

"Noo!" Your daughter whined.

"Not until I get an apology." Robert said as he crossed his arms and turned his back to the girls.

"Sorry, Daddy!" He didn't budge, so you sighed and came up behind him. Your arms wrapped around his waist.

"Sorry, Daddy." His face went red at the innocent sentence, and you felt a slight lift in his pants. 

"Say that again." He whispered so your daughter wouldn't hear. You smirked as you walked in front of him and put your lips near his ear. You could hear his breath catch and see the tent in his shorts rise.

"No." You whispered into the shell of his ear. You kissed his cheek and started to back away as you looked down at the sight before you and smirked. "Take care of yourself...again. I'll make the pancakes. And don't forget to wash your hands!" You said, making sure to keep things out of the toddler's sight and earshot. He groaned before awkwardly shuffling away.

"Alright then, babygirl! Do you want blueberries in your pancakes?" You turned to see your daughter just about finished with her fruit and juice. She nodded eagerly. "Well, coming right up!"

[lgbtpopcult]

What Should You be Watching Right Now Gay Girl?

Affair The Series

Why? It's the story of the all-consuming love between two friends turned lovers. The love is passionate, and one was so obsessed to find the other she even married to get her to show up (she left the husband). She finally finds her and brings her to live with her to make sure she'll be all hers from now on. Go watch, I tell you.

Chaser Game W

Why? Season 2 of this beautiful love story sees the two lovers reunite after last season's events. The boss that cane back to get revenge from the woman who left her but was actually still in love with her has turned into a love sick puppy the minute she found out the truth and you have to watch their sweet times.

Agatha All Along

Why? A Disney+ show that turns Marvel characters into actual, canon gay for each other? Yes, it is happening and you should be watching it.

The Loyal Pin

Why? If you like period pieces that focus on a lesbian romance you will love this, if you don't like period pieces you will love this. This gay Bridgerton uses the beautiful setting as decor while focusing 100% on its lesbian lovers who have all the tropes you love, jealousy, friends to lovers, secret affair etc. etc. What are you waiting for?

Unlock Your Love

Why? The couple from the miniseries Lucky My Love is back and better than ever in this lighthearted romcom about a girl who has been hurt one too many times by love and has become an ice queen and the girl who conquers her heart.

Coming up soon?

Arcane Season 2

Why? I can’t say much but here's what I'll say: our fave couple is canon.

Pluto

Why? The much anticipated passionate, unpredictable love of the novel comes to life with a couple that has just amazing chemistry.

From

Why? A supernatural show with a lesbian couple is always fun to watch.

Are you behind?

Series recently finished that you didn't watch? Go now!

The Secret of Us is the lesbian telenovela you always wanted, all the tropes, supercouple!

Under the Bridge will scratch your mystery plus lesbians itch.

23.5 is the school girl romcom you need.

[kryptonbabe]

I'm finally caught up! Finished the Kitty & Wolverine miniseries that I put off for so long, caught up on my New Mutants reading after the Demon Bear Saga and re-read the last couple of issues of Uncanny to remember what was going on and now I can finally get back to the X-Men main book and it's so worth it

There's so much I love in these panels, I truly feel close to these characters, depowered Ororo going back to Kenya to rebuild her life, Rogue who's been in the team for only a few months but connected deeply with Storm silently crying, the group hug, Colossus expression, the freaking adorableness of Lockheed on Storm's neck, Nightcrawler cleaning Ororo's tears, Colossus hands over Storm's...

It's always the same warm feeling when I get back to this series and this era of the team, Uncanny X-Men remains my favorite X-book series

From Uncanny X-Men #189 (1985)

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Me & the Devil P.3 (Final) 🌑 | Harry Potter Imagine

Takes place during DH1 & 2

Part 1 & 2 Here | HP masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Black!Sister reader x HP characters (platonic), Severus Snape x reader (platonic/semi-romantic)

Content Warnings: major character death, violence, physical assault (Lucius gets his ass beat) profanity, major angst, illusions to sex, NSFW, slight cannon divergence, mentions of torture and blood, set during the book timeline of the 1990s, but follows the movies. Reader is written with having psychopathic/sociopathic traits | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 11.7k

Requested yes/no

Premise: The Second Wizarding War reaches heightened tension as Harry Potter and his friends find themselves on a scavenger hunt for Voldemorts Horcruxes. For Y/n Black, after escaping the Burrow following the Battle of the Seven Potters, she wonders just how far she'll go to ensure she's free from the Dark Lord's bounds if Harry Potter prevails. Unfortunately, with war comes sacrifice, and Y/n must suffer the consequences. Even if means she doesn't get to see a new world without darkness.

Note: I have finally finished this HP miniseries and feel so good about it. But then it reminds me how many series I have yet to finish + requests and I think 'I need to get it together'. I still have my MIB fic I'm working on AND I have an idea for Cooper Howard from Fallout. Anyways....I'm alive and I hope you enjoy this last part after a much-anticipated wait. I gave it all the angst.

————-------

“Where the hell have you been?” were the first words shouted at Y/n upon her return home. Snape sprung from his chair, mirroring her disheveled look. He appeared to have gone through hell and back. “You were supposed to return hours ago.” 

“I got a little caught up,” she groaned, waving a hand as she beelined for the kitchen. Obviously not in the mood for the argument about to occur. Snape followed after her.

“I figured,” he stood in the doorway, watching her reach into the medicine cabinet and rustle through until she found the bottle of aspirin. “I searched every corner of London--thinking you fell from the sky and was laid in a ditch somewhere---only to find out from Yaxley of all people, you’d been on the back of Bill Weasley’s Thestral.” He didn’t say anything else, but the tone of his voice indicated Snape knew where Y/n had been.

Yeah she wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

Throwing back the asprin, Y/n chased it with wine and let out a sigh, “If you already know ... .why bother--.”

“Because I want to know how you could be so stupid--!” Snape clenched his fists, face turning red by the amount of anger he was itching to release. “To get yourself taken by the Order!”

Y/n, matching his emotion from having to deal with the events of the night, slammed the glass down so hard it shattered. Not caring it cut her hand and blood was now leaking. “I’m sorry, Snape. Next time a Thestral slams into me mid-air, I’ll let myself fall from the fucking sky. Save you from having to deal with my recklessness any longer. Since it’s causing you so much stress--goddammit--.” she hissed, the pain in her hand settling in. Muttering a spell, the wound closed and Y/n rinsed the blood off in the sink. “How the hell was I to expect the Delacour girl to do what she did?”

“Where did they take you?” Snape demanded, moving to stand beside her. At a closer look, he spotted the bruises and abrasions. His question changed, voice softening, “Are you alright?”

“Splendid,” she spat, drying her hands without looking at him. “Better than I’ve ever been.” She flinched when the man gently took a hold of her wrist, turning to him in surprise. 

“I mean it, Y/n. You’re covered in bruises and it's obvious you’re in pain.” The anger returns on Snape’s face. “Did they torture you?” Y/n scoffs, finding his assumption amusing. 

“Torture me? You humor me, dear husband,” her playfulness was back. Snape muttered something along the lines of ‘Merlin’s beard’ though she saw his eyebrows relax. He still held her wrist, and Y/n noticed the bruises starting to disappear. Snape was performing non-verbal healing spells on her.

Over the course of their marriage the two had moments of affection. Mostly to keep up the act in front of others, but every now and then there’d be private ones. Such as the current scenario. Snape making their tea in the morning. Y/n buying his potion ingredients when his stock is low. Sitting on opposite sides of the couch while reading. Having dinner together, even if it's in silence. 

And, on rare occasions, the two experienced their shared needs with each other. 

Again, neither would call it love. Romantic attraction was nonexistent to Y/n and she knew she’d never be able to love. Snape understood this, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same. Unable to see himself loving again after Lily. 

Once he was done, and the bruises were gone, Snape let go of Y/n’s hand, “Tell me what happened.”

“What’s there to tell,” she mumbles, leaning against him slightly. “When I woke up, after being stunned and a rather harsh landing, I was tied to a chair and asked to answer some questions.” Snape tensed, but Y/n continued, “Bet you can expect what their negotiations were if I cooperated.”

“Azkaban. Albeit a lesser sentence.” She huffed, cranking her neck with a nod.

“Yeah I wasn’t thrilled with that,” tilting her chin up so it rested on his chest, Y/n smirked wickedly, “they tried to use Veritaserum on me.”

“Oh,” he raised a brow, fighting his own smirk. “And how’d that go?” Her response was a shrug.

“I may have caused some trouble.”

The man chuckled, not surprised by the answer. “I’d expect nothing less.” Stepping to the side, Snape poured them each a glass of wine. “And how did you escape?” Handing Y/n hers, the two clicked glasses before bringing the rim to their lips. Y/n answered once the bitter taste passed through her throat.

“I stirred up a storm. Genuinely.” Y/n mentally patted herself on the back, impressed she managed to pull it off. “A tad shaky if I must admit, but It had them off their feet.” They finished the wine, Snape taking the glasses to put in the sink. Y/n stretched her arms, turning on her heel to exit the kitchen. “Well if you don’t mind, I’m going to treat myself to a bath. Tonight has left me quite spent,” reaching the doorway, she stops and turns to Snape, mouth curling up and eyes turning a shade he knows all too well. Heat coursed through his body as he watched her tease the stings of her corset, painting his cheeks with a light blush. 

“Care to join me?” 

In the following months after the Battle of the Seven Potters, Y/n’s time was once again spent in the attic of Malfoy Manor. Spell books and potions kept her busy while Snape was at Hogwarts for the term, a place Y/n avoided like the plague, as the newly instated headmaster. Anytime the school was mentioned she wanted to throw up. The memories of her short time there were a painful reminder of the life forced upon her. Knowing she’d never come to him when he needed to meet urgently, Snape either traveled by Floo or crossed school grounds to apparate. Letters were sent consistently.

Y/n could’ve remained at Snape’s home where they had resided during the summer. But that meant being completely alone. And while she may hate her family and enjoy isolation in the attic, the mere presence of people in the mansion provides comfort. It kept the voices in her head from being too loud. 

Tensions were high at the manor. With Lucius back and Bellatrix unable to shut up, Y/n’s peace and quiet was constantly disturbed. Draco had been kept home, and if Y/n were being honest the sound of his cries at night both annoyed and pitied her. Then when he wasn’t staying hidden in the shadows, Voldermort turned up to wreak havoc. 

The news of Potter infiltrating the Ministry spread like wildfire. Dolores Umbridge had been stunned mid-trial for a muggle-born witch, the necklace belonging to Salazar Slytherin ripped from her neck. Voldermart was furious. Fightenly so. He sent every Death Eater not in his close circle to find and capture the boy. Groups of Snatchers ordered to bring Harry to the Manor. 

‘Can I ever get a break?’ The thought crossed her mind a dozen times a day.

Then on the first day of May 1998, Y/n’s mere linger of peace was disrupted by commotion downstairs. With a huff, she discarded her book, pocketed her wand and descended the many stairs until she reached the living space. As she entered the scene she was stunned beyond belief at the sight of Harry--whose face was disfigured--Ron, and Hermione. They were fighting against the Snatchers holding them, though they froze when they met her eyes. 

“What is this?” Y/n approached the group, where Bellatrix was screaming about finding Draco. Narcissa and Lucius stood to the side, the former addressing her first. “These men believe they have Harry Potter,” Narcissa flinched when Bellatrix screamed again, “but we’re not exactly sure.”

‘Are you that daft?’ Y/n wanted to say. Anyone with eyes and a decent memory would know it was Harry Potter. Even with the spell to make him unrecognizable, he was with a Weasley and the Granger girl! That should’ve been their confirmation. Narcissa met them all in Diagon Alley after Lucius’ arrest, so either she was just too stupid or was stalling to prolong the inevitable outcome. 

Y/n bit the inside of her cheek, tension rising in veins. Snape was going to tear into her if something happened to Potter. And while she could care less about his friends, Ron was a relative and Hermione was one hell of a young witch. The kind that garnered respect from seasoned magical beings. They needed to get out of the manor alive.

“Well, make sure your boy doesn’t get us all killed,” Y/n scoffed when Draco arrived. Pale in the face with sweat beading at his forehead. Wanting nothing more than to apparate away from the chaos. 

Bellatrix pushed Harry down to his knees, gripping his hair in her hand to pull his face up. The boy groaned, Bellatrix addressing Draco, “Well?” He gulped, blinking rapidly as he looked between Harry and his aunt.

“I can’t be sure.”

“Draco,” Lucius grasped his neck with a stern hold. He too was filled with anxiety. “Look closely. Listen if we are the ones to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord,” behind him, one of the Snatchers raised his brows, moving closer to the duo. “Everything will be forgiven. As it was, understand?” Draco nodded, and their moment was interrupted by the snatcher.

“Now we won’t be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy.”

“You dare to talk to me like that in my own house!” Draco flinched at his father’s shout while Narcissa jutted in. 

“Lucius,” her hand latched onto his arm, pulling him away from their son. Lucius relented, allowing her to guide him back a few paces, still visibly annoyed by the snatcher. Bellatrix gestured for Draco, “Don’t be shy, sweetie. Come over.” He let her take his hand, drawing him down to his knees so he was level with Harry. 

Y/n’s heart pounded against her chest. Gritting her teeth to the point they might crack. Casting a glance to the teens, Y/n saw their pleading eyes. Begging for escape and to not hurt them. Y/n turned away, focusing on her sister and nephew. 

“Now if this isn’t who we think it is, Draco, and we call him, he’ll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure.”

“Shouldn't you know, Y/n?” Lucius suddenly accused, making the room go quiet. The woman in question snapped her head in his direction, eyes narrowed in challenge.

“What makes you say that?” 

“You were taken to the Burrow that night. You said it yourself to the Dark Lord, the Order questioned you.” He gestured to the teenagers, “weren’t they there?”

“Might I remind you I was rendered unconscious by a thestral and stunned several times, Lucius,” her tone was hard. “Forgive me if my memory is hazy.” Offering a shrug, Y/n continued to deflect, “I was busy formulating an escape plan rather than taking attendance of those present.” Lucius didn’t accept the answer. His expression made it well known. 

“Typical,” he spat, “Even when given the opportunity to locate Harry Potter and those associated with him, you fail to rise to the occasion.” Y/n saw red.

“Do not speak to me about rising to the occasion, Lucius, when you have brought failure to the Dark Lord on more accounts than I can count.” She saw the way he faltered and smirked, “Who was it that took the coward's way out by saying he was under the imperius curse instead of acting on his own free will?” As she inched closer Lucius stiffened and stepped back. Narcissa reached for her husband while glaring at Y/n, who paid her no mind. “Who relished in their new found freedom instead of searching for their Master they were oh so devoted to?”

Behind her, Bellatrix had a devilish smile, enjoying the way Lucius shrunk under her sister’s gaze. 

“Are you not the one who failed to bring him the prophecy?” Y/n mocked, tapping a finger to her chin, “oh yes, in fact you caused the damn thing to shatter. And got yourself caught by the aurors in the process. Bravo, Lucius. Well fucking done.” Her words echoed with a round of applause. “You are pathetic.” 

“Do not talk to him like that,” Narcissa got in her face, though it did nothing to intimidate the younger witch. “He has done more for the Dark Lord than you could ever know.” The scoff Y/n let out irritated Narcissa. 

“If you’re talking about giving up his wand I hate to tell you, Cissy, but that was more like taking candy from a baby,” Rolling her eyes she added, “And opening your home to him, please. The Dark Lord took claim to your home because he sees your husband for who he is…” Y/n leaned in making her sister step back. “Weak.” Y/n hadn’t even noticed Lucius in front of her before it was too late. His hand came up to strike her across the cheek, leaving an angry red mark behind as the force of the slap caused her head to turn. 

Hermoine gasped, a look of horror matching that of Narcissa. Ron, Draco and Harry were wide-eyed, meanwhile the snatchers just appeared awkward. 

They all waited for Y/n to react. She was breathing heavily, but otherwise silent. Then, with a deep inhale, she slowly turned back to Lucius. Any color in her eyes was gone. Completely black and soulless. 

Just like she didn’t have time to react, the same was bestowed on Lucius. Y/n’s arm wound back as far as it could go before launching, causing a sickening *crack* as her fist made an impact with his jaw. The force was so great it sent him to the floor. Narcissa screamed, Draco stumbling away as his father fell beside him and Harry. 

Lucius groaned, the taste of metallic filling his mouth. Blood dripped down his chin. He felt pressure on his chest, glancing up wide-eyed to see Y/n had straddled his chest and began punching him. Narcissa screamed for her to stop while Bellatrix laughed in the background. Y/n’s rings cut into Lucius’ skin, painting her knuckles red. As he brought his arms up to protect himself, Y/n focused her assault on his ribs. 

It was obvious by the absolute crazed expression she bore, Y/n had years of pent up fury releasing with each attack. She looked murderous. Craving blood. Craving pain. It was all she knew. Thanks to her dear sister and brother-in-law. Thanks to her family. 

After two minutes which felt like a lifetime, Y/n was tackled off Lucius by Narcissa. Immediately the older witch tended to her husband, while Y/n picked herself off the floor, cranked her neck and dusted off the dirt on her dress. 

Her sudden calmness is an eerie sight to the teenagers in the room. Both Ron and Hermoine glanced at each other in horror by what they witnessed. Harry remained frozen, wondering just how the hell they were going to get out of the manor. Before the Malfoy’s and Blacks snap again and end with them killing each other. 

“Are you out of your mind!?” Narcissa shouted, removing her wand to begin issuing healing spells. The man looked like he just got out of a bar fight. On top of the cuts from her rings, noticeable bruises and obviously broken nose. His tattered breathing indicated she likely broke a rib. Blood spilled from his mouth, but thankfully for him it didn’t appear that he lost any teeth. 

“He’ll live,” was her response, sounding disappointed by the fact. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to drown myself in fire whiskey while you all figure out if this is Harry Potter or an imposter before we die due to your incompetence.” 

Narcissa shuddered, anger seeping off her as she sent daggers to the back of Y/n’s head. “How dare you?”

“How dare I?” She spins around, challenging Narcissa to say more. “He raised his hand to me and I’m in the wrong? He had it coming.” 

“You called him weak! He went to prison while you fled the Ministry and left him to fend for himself. After all we’ve provided you--allowing you into our home, sit at our table, dine with us….” Narcissa lists off, “You once were a pleasant person to be around and respectful. To be so ungrateful for what we’ve done for you is an insult to---.” Now that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n lost it. 

“You had me sent to fucking Azkaban!!” Her voice echoed off the walls, ordering everyone into silence. The outburst sent a chill amongst all in the room. The Malfoys were rather petrified. Especially Draco who was still kneeling behind his parents. For Narcissa, her eyes glazed as she took in her once sweet and innocent baby sister. The woman who stood in her place lacked any empathy, much like their eldest sister. Only Y/n’s rage was a direct result from those who failed her. Plus the circumstances she endured.

Harry realized this during their encounter at the Burrow. Thinking back to what Sirius had told him that time in Grimmauld Place. Y/n wasn’t always the demented Death Eater she became. Her confessions at the Burrow depict a case of a woman who’d betray Voldemort in an instant if it meant she could escape. 

“Half of my life wasted--because you and your husband chose to sell me out to the Aurors instead of protecting me!” Hatred was the only word to describe the venom in her tone and eyes. “I was fifteen, Narcissa, fifteen.” Water filled Y/n’s eyes that she refused to release. “You let them drag me to that house,” she referred to the night the Death Eaters gave her the mark. The same night they tortured the Longbottoms. “I confided in you. I told you what they forced me to do. I had no choice in the matter, Cissy.” She spit out the once endearing nickname. Like it was acid in her mouth.

Pointing her wand up slightly, Y/n gained satisfaction at the fear. Nearly whispering, she grinded her teeth, “when I came to you--after it was done--terrified out of my mind, I trusted you to keep. Me. Safe.” Each word had her stepping closer to her sister, “that my sister would have my back. Not rat me out the moment the Ministry came knocking at her door so that she, her pathetic husband, and her spineless, spoiled brat of a son--.” Narcissa gripped her wand. Angered by the insults of her loved ones, despite them being slightly true. Y/n dismissed her emotion, “--can live happily ever after. Peacefully, as though they never supported the Dark Lord when behind closed doors…,” she hissed, no longer caring they had an audience, “They are the most cowardice hypocrites in the history of the world.”

The more she drew closer, the tighter the grip Narcissa had on her wand. Ready for any sudden attack. Lucius glared at his sister-in-law with hatred. Meanwhile Draco looked like he wanted to vomit. He barely remembered his aunt before she went to prison. And their interactions since her release were brief. Now the image of her before him sent an awful pit in his stomach. 

Y/n had no plans of cursing anyone, but she’d be damn sure to put the fear of God himself in her relatives for all the pain and anger they’ve caused her entire life. “So no. I will not offer sympathies to your family, Narcissa. Nor shall I feel grateful for your sacrifices. Dear Lucius only got a lick of what I experienced in Azkaban. And Draco got his arse saved by Snape in getting out of killing Dumbledore. Meanwile I had to spend fourteen years in a cell--cast away in the middle of the fucking ocean--for something I had no control over.” Y/n dropped her stance, tone becoming bored as she finished her rant off with, “You can all die for all I care.” 

Desperate to leave Y/n started in the direction but was stopped by Bellatrix. Saying they were not finished and must get back to the issue at hand. Narcissa continued tending to Lucius, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“You’re not sure it’s Potter, so don’t call him,” Y/n said as if it were obvious. Praying she did not give away any suspicion of the truth. “What else is there to say?” 

“What else?” Bellatrix threw out her hands, “There is a blood-traitor and mudblood with him!” She received a roll of the eyes.

“Not every ginger haired wizard is a Weasley, sister.” 

“What’s wrong with his face?” Draco changed the subject, Y/n mentally thanking him with a smirk to her brother-in-law in victory.

“Yes, what is wrong with his face?” Bellatrix echoed, addressing the snatchers. Meanwhile Y/n watches the stare off between Harry and Draco. The silent conversation happening between them. And when Harry’s eyes flicker to her, Y/n knows he’s questioning her all the same. ‘Why are you not saying anything? You know it’s me.’

“He came to us like that. Something he picked up in the forest I reckon.”

“Or ran into a stinging jinx,” she counters with a whisper. Her wand raises in the direction of the other captors. “Was it you two?” Bellatrix moves hastily, “Give me her wand. We’ll see what her last spell was.” Narcissa gently places a hand on her son, nudging him to stand and move away from Harry. Y/n stays quiet, keeping a firm gaze on the boys and turns away when Harry gives her a pleading look. 

Bellatrix gives a mocking laugh at Hermoine’s reaction, “I got you.” Suddenly her laugh is cut short with a gasp. Eyes locking on the shiny weapon in the hands of a snatcher. “What’s that?”

The sword of Gryffindor.

Hearing her gasp, Y/n leans to the side to get a better view, only to freeze. Blood drained from her face upon seeing the sword. Which was supposed to be locked away in the Lestrange vault at Gringotts. Dread consumed Y/n, followed by confusion and anger. How the fuck did they get the sword? If Voldermort discovered Bellatrix failed to keep it contained he’d have all their heads on a silver platter.

And by the nervous whisper of her sister, Y/n knew Bellatrix felt the same. “Where’d you get that from?” 

“It was in her bag when we searched her,” the snatcher replies calmly, “reckon it’s mine now.” 

Bellatrix moves so quickly everyone is unable to react. Stunning the man, the sword flies into her grip as she spins and incapacitates the snatchers. Y/n follows in suit, petrifying the snatcher closest to her. Shocking the group as they move away from the chaos. 

“Are you mad!!” A whip shoots from Y/n’s wand to wrap around his neck, choking the leader while Bellatrix occupies herself with strangling Greyback. Both witches have crazed expressions, scaring the kids and even their sister. 

Y/n pulled the wip down with force, bringing the snatcher to knees where he then fell to the harsh ground. She kept her grip, moving to Bellatrix while dragging the man along. He grunted and groaned until she finally released the hold, but not before bringing it up and igniting a hard smack to his face. 

“Get out!” Bellatrix ordered, the snatchers struggling to rise to their feet and catch their breath. Keeping her wand raised, Y/n watched her sister grip Ron by his jacket, “Cissy, put the boys in the cellar!” Narcissa grabbed Harry, then Ron when Bellatrix pushed him toward her. “I want to have a conversation with this one,” Hermoine felt like she was going to vomit. “Girl to girl!” 

Wormtail met Narcissa at the top of the stairs. Dragging the boys down as they attempted to fight him off. They were pulled out of sight and thrown into the cellar, Ron shouting after Wormtail as he scurried off. 

Y/n watched Bellatrix inflict torture on Hermoine for only a few minutes before dissociating. The screams from the girl brought back painful memories. Memories of the Longbottoms. Their lost gazes with each curse. Flinching, Y/n squeezed her eyes shut. Picturing Alice and Frank Longbottom withering on the floor. It made her want to jump from the window. Or light herself on fire. 

Her mind was racing. Brain pleading to do the right thing. Opening her eyes she saw Narcissa, Lucius and Draco huddled in front of the fireplace. God she wished Snape was there. He’d know what to do.

And deep down, Y/n knew too.    

When Bellatrix ordered Wormtail to bring Griphook from the cellar, Y/n took the chance to follow him. The decision was made right there. Fuck the outcome and if it cost her her life by the end of the day. Maybe she could manipulate it in her favor. 

Creeping down the stairs, Y/n heard Ron demand for Hermoine to be let go, the woman turning down the corner to see Wormtail’s wand raised at the boy. 

“Get back!” Ron stepped back but his glare never strayed. Y/n had reached the bottom of the stairs right as Griphook approached Wormtail. The traitorous Griffyndor narrowed his eyes at the witch. “You’re not supposed to be down here,” his tone held suspicion.

“And who are you to tell me I’m not, rat?” The name cut him deep judging by his reaction. Y/n kept her chin high, “I merely want to inspect our guests again. After all, we want to be sure this boy is Harry Potter. Correct?” Wormtail was nervous under her stern gaze, but he didn’t believe her for a second.

“I must confirm with--argh!” Peter was thrown back into the bars as Y/n’s hand closed down on his neck, constricting his airway. The action caused those in the cellar to jump by the sudden action. Squeezing, Y/n leaned closer to whisper in his ear. 

“You will go upstairs with the Goblin like you were ordered to and say nothing. Do not cross me, rat, I will know if you do.” He grunted as Y/n shook him, adding, “I’m sure my husband would be more than pleased to deal with you if you chose to speak freely rather than follow your orders and stay quiet. Understood?” At his rapid nod, Y/n let go of the man, a coughing sput releasing from Peter before he pushed Griphook to start going up the stairs. 

Once they were gone, Y/n turned her attention to the teens, leaning against the side of the wall with a bored expression. “You’re a long way from home, Harry Potter.”

The boy in question clenched his jaw, “You knew it was me this whole time.” The statement resulted in a scoff. 

“Of course I did. Which is hilarious considering I am probably the only person up there who’s had the least interaction with you, yet for some peculiar reason…,” her tone was mocking, “no one else is confident in their speculation. Well except Draco,” she shrugs, causing Harry’s eyes to widen slightly. “Why he’s remaining quiet is likely for the same reasons I am. But who am I to throw him under the bus to my sister?” 

“Seems a bit odd you’re not,” he commented as he approached the gate. Moving so they were directly in front of each other. Only the bars separating them. They were so close Harry noticed the puffiness of her cheek where Lucius struck her. Plus the tiny specks of blood on her neck that must’ve splattered when she beat the man. It made him shudder, “Why is that?”

“Call it a promise I made to a friend.” 

“A friend?” he countered with a scoff, “I find that hard to believe.” A chuckle left her lips, bouncing against the walls. “Like anyone from the Order would align themself with you without telling the rest.” Now that humored the witch. The fact he went right to believing it was someone from the Order she was in contact with was hilarious considering the little deductible that took place months prior. 

“You’d be surprised with how secretive the Order can be. Even the man who established it in the first place kept many things,” that got his attention, tensing with his hands clenched into fists. “Dumbledore,” the whisper of his name sent a wave of emotion through Harry. Anger, sadness. He hated the way Y/n said it in a mocking tone. “Yeah, I really don’t care whether you believe me or not. But the idea of you dying today is something I cannot let happen.”

Harry became confused, brow raising. What the fuck was she playing at? First she plays dumb to her family by not identifying him. Then she does nothing when they drag the boys to the cellar, where several of Harry’s supporters are being held captive. She sits back while Bellatrix harms Hermoine. Now she’s insinuating she wants to help them escape?

She has to be fucking with them.

“What game are you playing?” His question surprises Y/n.

“Game?” 

Anger replaced the confusion by her lack of remorse. But then again he was foolish to believe a death eater like herself was capable of such. “This! I don’t understand what side you’re on. It’s obvious you’re not completely loyal to him--you’re actions today prove that.” Y/n mentally cursed herself for being obvious. If Harry caught on to her, much like Snape did, then how long before Voldemort and those closest to him did. “You say and do things that make me think you know more than you’re letting on,” her expression faltered, Harry clocking it with a mental victory. “You saved Bill for reasons not even you can explain. You hate your family. Which is your only redeeming quality--.”

“Ouch.” 

He ignored her comment. “What do you gain from this? Why are you not screaming for Vold--.” Y/n launched herself at the bars, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket to hold him against the gate. Ron moved to help, but was frozen upon Y/n raising her wand at him.

“Don’t say his name!” She whisper-screamed, face painted with fury and fear. Harry snapped his jaw shut, watching the woman frantically look around as though in search of something. Or someone.

“Do you have a death wish, Potter?” she finally said once deeming it was safe. Yet her heated expression stayed locked on Harry. “Surely you should know by now saying his name will attract unwanted attention.” Muttering curses under her breath, Harry heard her call him, “stupid boy.” 

Struggling against her grip, Harry was amazed by Y/n’s strength despite it having been displayed twice now in the form of beating her brother-in-law and assaulting Wormtail. She proved herself at the burrow to be a powerful witch in the sense of magic. But Lord he would not want to go toe-to-toe with her in a fight. 

“Let me be clear, Potter,” her grip tightened, Harry grunting as his head pressed against the bar. “I personally don’t care about the outcome of this war. Whether you vanquish him or he kills you once and for all, what matters to me is my freedom in the end. Either in the form of walking away from this world in one piece, or entering the pits of hell waiting for me.” She paused, staring so deep into his eyes the boy shuddered, “Ideally, it would be best suited for me if you came out on top, Potter. That way the mark on my arm no longer makes me feel like a dog on its leash. Tracking my every move--giving him power over me. I want it gone.” 

Harry hadn’t thought of it that way. But now with her confirmation of his speculations, Harry was confident in Y/n’s disloyalty to Voldermort. Which now made him question her marriage to Snape. 

“You doubting my role among his ranks proves to me you’re actually a smart boy. Like Snape, you’ve caught on quick to my ulterior motives.” The confession made his eyes widen. Fully convinced their union held a deeper message than simply two Death Eaters finding love in the midst of a war. 

But what did that make of Snape? The question plagued Harry’s thoughts. 

“You’re right to accuse me, Potter, and you’d act the same if in my shoes. I’ve suffered enough,” her voice fell to a whisper. “Tortured, beaten, locked away in a cold, dark, cell for half my life…..I’ve watched family members die, I’ve watched them lose themselves to madness--while trying so hard to prevent my own descent,” she leans closer, “Which I obviously failed to do. There’s nothing left for me to give anymore.” 

Her grip on his collar loosens, allowing Harry to lean slightly away from the bars to get some space. However her hold still stays, “I don’t expect you to understand, and I’m not asking for sympathy. Hate me all you want when this is over. I know if you come out on top I’ll be locked away forever, but somehow, and I’m not exactly sure why, a piece of whatever soul I have left is saying you need to get out of this mansion.” Finally she released Harry, the boy stumbling back by the slight push she gave. 

Y/n cleared her throat, chin held high. “So, are you going to shut up and listen to what I have to say? Or are you going to be a little boy and get you and your friends killed tonight with your impulsiveness?”

Harry said nothing. Maintaining the intense eye-contact that would’ve sent any other person running for the hills. Her cold, dark eyes were far opposite of the warm, loving ones her cousin Sirius possessed. His aura drew people in. Hers made them repulsed. 

Everything in Harry screamed for him to reject her proposal. To somehow figure a plan out on his own or act on survival instinct.

But it wasn’t just his life at risk. His friends were in danger, as were the innocent people captured like Ollivander and Griphook. He needed to be smart.

A simple nod had the ginger beside him flabbergasted. 

“Are you mad!” Ron chokes, appalled by the idea of working with the Death Eater. He looked at Harry like he had two heads. “You want to trust this psychopath?!” Y/n wanted to laugh at the insult, but instead settled for a smirk, frightening the boy even more.

He wasn’t wrong if one were to get technical. Y/n portrayed both psychopathic and sociopathic tendencies. Any professional would clock in an instant. Much like a psychopath, Y/n’s charming, lacks a sense of remorse and love, and uses relationships for her gain. Then on the other hand she’s impulsive, unpredictable, explosive when provoked and will resort to physical violence. Look at what she did to Lucius, Wormtail, and now Harry. She, however, does appear to have an attachment to Snape--often aligned with sociopaths. But again, though Y/n may care for him to a degree, she is still using him to further her goal. 

Harry gave Ron a frustrated look, “You got any ideas?” They all knew the answer and the silence indicated as such. Sighing in defeat, Ron glared at Y/n, who only returned it with a smirk.

“That settles it,” her cheeky expression focused on Harry. A non-verbal deal sealing itself right there. “Shall we begin?”

Everything that happened once the boys emerged from the staircase was a blur.

After summoning Dobby, the former Malfoy house elf who Y/n at one point enjoyed the company of prior to Azkaban, Y/n took her place in the foyer once more with the rest of her family. She’d laid out carefully to the boys and elf what to do once she left them. Dobby first transported the other prisoners to a location Ron suggested. Then Y/n incapacitated Wormtail on his way down to the cellar as she passed by him, dragging the traitor out of sight. 

When she returned upstairs she noticed the skeptical expression Narcissa directed at her. Y/n didn’t let it get to her, instead focusing on the task. Hermione laid on the ground, barely moving. With Bellatrix occupied with interrogating Griphook, Y/n went to check on the girl. Immediately Hermione made a sound and flinched away, but Y/n grasped her arm firmly causing her to still.

“If you want to leave this manor alive and in one piece with your friends, you ought to stay quiet,” Y/n whispered in her ear, followed by the utterance of a healing incantation. Hermione obeyed, however she was stiff like a stature against Y/n’s touch. 

Most of the spells were non-verbal as to not draw attention to them. And while Draco and Narcissa were well aware of what Y/n was doing, one death glare from the witch had them turning away. Bruises started to disappear. Cuts slowly healed. Y/n could not do much for the mental torture Hermoine endured, but she at least could sooth the physical injuries. Frowning at the sight of ‘mudblood’ carved into the teens arm, she issued most of the spells at patching the skin there, leaving only a faint trace of the words. Hermione visibly relaxed, even squeezing Y/n’s hand in a silent thank you. 

The older witch could only imagine the thoughts racing through her head. Wondering what the hell Y/n was doing and if she were serious about getting them out. After all, she did nothing to stop Bellatrix and instead disappeared when the torture began. Yet here she was. Offering a flicker of hope by healing her wounds with claims of helping them escape. 

Once satisfied with her work, Y/n stood up and backed away from Hermione until she was pressed against the wall. 

Then all hell broke loose when Bellatrix implied killing the witch. Harry and Ron were to wait for Y/n’s signal but given the circumstances they said, ‘To hell with it,’ and ran up with wands shooting off spells left and right. Disarming Bellatrix and initiating a two-vs-two duel with Draco and Narcissa. Y/n couldn’t even bask in the joy she felt watching Lucius get blasted away with a dramatic “ah!”, she had to act fast. 

Taking the discarded knife, Y/n dragged a shrieking Hermione to her feet. Pulling the teens back to her chest, Y/n placed the knife level with her neck with a hiss, “follow my lead.” Hermione froze, tears leaking down her cheeks. Y/n walked her to the middle of the foyer, until they were beneath the chandelier, “Stop!!” The fighting ceased.

“Drop your wands,” Bellatrix ordered, but the boys were too focused on Y/n and Hermione to listen. Angry and betrayed at jumping to conclusions, Y/n quickly penetrated their minds, “Tread carefully boys,” Their faces consorted into shock, the woman shushing them with her gaze before they could react aloud. “Let’s not fuck this up more.”

Bellatrix shouted again, “I said drop’em!” obeying, their wands hit the floor with a *clank*. “Pick them up, Draco, now!” The blonde boy hurried to retrieve the wands, Bellatrix gliding up to where Y/n stood. “Well, well, well. Look what we have here.” Leaning into Hermione’s space, the witch whispered in a taunting tone. “It’s Harry Potter. He’s all bright and shiny and new again.” As she spoke, Harry’s face returned to normal. The effect of the stinging jinx wearing off. 

“Just in time for the Dark Lord.” Y/n loosened her grip on Hermione, air catching in her throat as she sent Harry a panicked look. Bellatrix however, appeared pleased, “call him.” Heads turned to Draco. Save for Y/n, who caught movement in the distance. Locking eyes with the figure, her head gestured up to the chandelier. Sending a mental message of what to do. They were gone in the blink of an eye, Y/n peering at her nephew like everyone else. 

Draco was visibly nervous and scared, shuddering under his father’s scrutiny. Unable to perform the task even when told a second time by his aunt. Lucius pushed past him, glaring at Harry as he pulled his sleeves up to reveal the Dark Mark. The ink became darker when his hand raised over it. 

Suddenly, the eerie sound of creaking interrupted the intense silence. Eyes drawing up to find Dobby perched on the chandelier, his hands occupied with unscrewing the latch keeping the mighty object attached to the ceiling. Despite instructing the elf, Y/n couldn’t help but utter, “oh dear.” 

The latch released, Bellatrix shrieking as Y/n shoved Hermione away before bringing her arms up at the last second. The last image she saw before the world became black was Ron catching the girl. Noise drowned out until eventually, all became silent. 

When she woke God knows how long later, Y/n was in a daze. Her head pounded, body ached. Vision disoriented and any sound was muffled. A gentle touch on her shoulder brought her back to reality, her senses coming together to form a clear picture of her surroundings. When it finally did, Y/n found Snape seated in a chair beside her. The man dressed in his usual black clothes minus the dramatic robes. Dark circles beneath his eyes, like he hadn’t had a pleasant night’s rest in ages. 

“What the hell,” her voice croaked due to the dryness in her throat. Coughing, she sat up and was immediately met with a glass of water thrusted in her face. Taking it Y/n downed half the glass, a couple droplets spilling down her chin. “Thank you,” she wiped them away, adjusting her position on the unfamiliar bed. Snape placed the glass back on the nightstand, helping Y/n move so she was upright with her legs hanging off the side of the bed. 

Glancing down, she realized she was still in the same dress from the manor. “How long was I out?” Part of her feared the answer. 

“About six hours. It’s just past midnight.”

“Mmp,” she stretched her neck, brushing hair from her face. It was the morning of May 2nd. Scanning the room, Y/n squinted, catching the lit fireplace and stained glass windows first. Followed by the striking detail of the walls covered in moving portraits on the opposite side of the room leading to an office space. Some of whom were glaring at her. 

It hit her then where she was. 

Hogwarts.

“How’d you know?” Pushing off the bed, Y/n made a beeline to the table displaying a vast collection of alcohol. Reaching for the fire whiskey, she poured herself a glass and downed it in one go. 

“Your sister,” he responded, not moving from his seat, hands clasped together, “Narcissa was rather adamant I come to retrieve you after the little spectacle that took place tonight.” Y/n let out a chuckle lacking any humor, pouring herself another whiskey. 

“I’m surprised she’d do such a thing. Considering I humiliated her and her family in front of people. Would’ve thought she’d finish me off while I was down.” Snape narrowed his eyes, disapproving of her statement. Y/n only returned the look, twirling her glass, “It’s what I would’ve done. You should’ve seen the number I did on Lucius.”

“The fool put his hands on you,” Snape’s voice had an edge to it, anger seeping through. Shocking the witch by the sudden shift in his demeanor. “Had I been there he would’ve lost them.”Oh… Now that had a spark filling Y/n’s stomach. Almost like arousal.

She brushed it off with, “I’d be a little offended if you didn’t, husband.” Her teasing made him roll his eyes, “Besides the masterpiece I created on that swine, the words I had for my dear sister were not pleasant and frankly would’ve had her laying into me if she had the balls to. Had the roles been reversed, I don’t think I could have let her live.” Y/n scoffed at herself, sipping her drink instead of gulping it, “Quite the hypocrite aren’t I?”

Snape stayed silent, only responding with an expression that read, “You said it, not me.” Y/n shrugged, not finding his indirect opinion offensive. Instead she opted to ask the question plaguing her since she woke up, “What have you heard recently?” Snape inhaled sharply. 

“He’s angry. Very angry.” Y/n stiffened, setting her now empty glass back on the table. He continued, “I did not stick around for what he had in store for you sisters and brother-in-law, my only concern was getting you here after Narcissa called. But….there’s been a shift. We all can feel it.”

Y/n tightened her jaw, processing the news with a nod. “Any word on the boy's whereabouts.” Snape raised his brows, face conforming to one she knew all too well. Snape read her like a book. 

“You mean if they escaped safely?” The accusation did not come as a surprise. “You’ll be pleased to know they did.” Snape noted her sigh of relief, but did not comment. By now the married couple easily picked up on cues and communicated without saying anything. He didn’t need her to tell him her role in helping Harry Potter escape the Manor. He already knew. “Where did they go--I have no clue,” Pausing to shrug, he added, “Likely the home of someone they trust. But it won’t be long before….”

“I know,” Y/n interrupted with a whisper. Squeezing her eyes shut as she leaned against the table. “We’re in the endgame now.” 

The creaking of the chair filled her ears, followed by footsteps. Opening her eyes when she felt Snape gently place his hand on hers. Stroking her bruised knuckles with his thumb. 

“We’ll get through this,” He told her confidently. “I promise if it’s the last thing I do, you’ll get your freedom when this is all over.” 

Breath catching in her throat, moved by his words, Y/n raised her free hand to caress Snape’s jaw. Offering a small, but sad smile--surprising both of them by connecting their lips briefly in a short, sweet kiss, as her eyes glossed over, “as will you.” 

Almost 24 hours later

Running. She was running. Faster than ever, the words of Lucius echoing in her mind, overtaking the screams of the raging battle behind her. “He’s with the Dark Lord,” was the answer to her demand for Snape's whereabouts. Dread consumed her. Drowning the witch as though she had been pulled out to sea. 

Voldermort pausing the battle only to summon Snape had to be anything but good. Lucius confirmed her suspicion by how scared he looked just telling her. Like he expected her to kill him right there for finding Snape and bringing him to the Dark Lord. Instead Y/n shoved him away and broke into a sprint. Heading straight for the docks. 

“Harry--!” Hermoine’s warning was overshadowed by the fast approaching footsteps. The teens gripped their wands, ready for an attack only to freeze at the sight of Y/n running through the doorway. She met Ron and Hermonie’s eyes first, only to draw them to the side, where she was met with a grieving sight. The teens swear they saw her knees buckle, a sound of anguish leaving her throat.

“No-no-no!” Y/n pushes past the teens, kneeling down in a hast and practically shoving Harry to the side. Y/n cups Severus’s face in her hands, eyes filling with tears as blood paints them. “No-no, Severus! Severus!” She frantically looked him over, horrified by his state. His throat was cut, the woman placing a hand over the gaping wound, and bite marks cut into his clothing. 

“Oh God. Sev, you can’t--you can’t leave me,” her chest tightened, tone dropping to barely a whisper. “Not like this. Not like this.” They were supposed to survive the war. Together. They’d made it this far, after so many obstacles and death around them. Y/n and Snape had to live. 

Otherwise what was the point in going on in life. 

The trio were at a loss for words. Stunned by the scene in front of them. Of course they knew the two were married, but it had been revealed at Malfoy Manor it was simply a matter of convenience. Not believing love played any role in the marriage. However, witnessing Y/n in complete despair over Snape made them think the opposite.

They watched in silence. Harry’s attention on Y/n. Her body shaking, face distraught and unsure of where to begin. Snape was losing consciousness, and it was obvious he was running out of time. Clutching onto Y/n’s forearms, the man's eyes softened in a way Harry had never seen. “I’m here,” Y/n caressed his cheek with the hand not holding his neck together. Comforting him. Like she knew he wasn’t going to make it and wanted to make sure he left the world knowing at least one person cared about him. 

Well, she was the only person.

Snape’s eyes turned glossy, flickering between Y/n and Harry. It broke whatever was left of Y/n’s heart seeing him cry. Full of pain and minutes from death.

Something in his tears made her stiffen, and by Snape’s reaction Y/n knew exactly what it was. “Take them,” he pleaded to Harry, the boy confused and looking to the Death Eater for answers. Snape whimpered again, “Take them, please.”

“His tears,” Y/n turned to Harry wide-eyed, a shaky hand reaching out, “get me something--quickly!” He relays the order to Hermoine, who presents a small vial from her bag. Passing it to Harry, he extends it to Y/n, who snatches the vial and opens the top with her teeth. Her rapid movements slow as she gently presses the container to Snape’s cheek. Teardrops falling down until the vial is filled to the brim. They glow against the glass.

“Take them to the pevensie,” Snape’s voice was hoarse, Y/n handing the vial to Harry with care. Pocketing it, Harry glanced up when Snape whispered, “look at me.” Against her palm, Y/n felt his pulse begin to slow. Beats growing apart by the second. 

A knot formed in her throat. Clenching onto his hand like her life depended on it.

Harry stared into the eyes of the man he hated most in the world. Realizing the words were meant for him. More tears ran down Snape’s cheeks, “you have your mother’s eyes.” And with one last squeeze to his wife’s hand, catching her gaze, Severus Snape took his last breath. Head falling limp against the glass, sending Y/n into despair. 

Whatever remnants of her heart broke into a million pieces. Grieving the loss of her only friend and companion. 

Her sobs echoed, the teens watching with solemn faces as the woman brought the now deceased Snape into her arms. One hand on his head to lay it against her chest, resting her chin on his own, the other wrapped arm around his shoulders. Cradling him without any care of the blood coating her skin and clothes. 

None of that mattered to her. 

Her only focus was the man in her arms. 

The sight of Y/n gently rocking Snape was too emotional for the teens. Hermione wiping away moisture from her cheeks, sniffing as she leaned into Ron, whose eyes also shined. They had no words to describe how they felt watching a Death Eater like Y/n--who’d they witnessed her violent nature first hand--in hysterics over Snape. Who’s marriage to him was something they questioned. Believing it to be a ruse. 

However, witnessing the tragic display, they began to think otherwise. 

“We may have not loved each other like we wanted to,” Y/n’s whimpered, opening her eyes to meet Harry’s. The heartbreak shined through, “But he was my peace.” More tears rolled down her cheeks, arms tightening around Snape’s shoulders, resting her cheek on his hair. Another sob left her, “It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”

Another five minutes passed. Hiccups replacing the witch’s outpour of cries. When it slowed and came to a halt, Y/n didn’t bother wiping away the residue. Letting the tears mix into the sweat and blood. 

Her head that had been previously turned away from Harry to hide into Snape’s hair maneuvered so it was facing him. Never letting go of the man. “You should go,” the roughness of her voice matched her state. Red eyes that the whites were barely noticeable, puffiness in her cheeks. “There’s not much time before he runs out of patience,” he referring to Voldemort. Harry tensed, and Y/n gestured to the vial in his hands, “I don’t know all of what he wanted to show you, but if it’s what I think it is….” Harry heard her gulp, “then you’ll understand the things he--and even I--had to do.”

‘Had to do?’ Harry wondered, his expression giving away what he was thinking by the way Y/n shook her head. Unwilling to give him the answers right there. Whatever it was, Harry was anxious at finding out. Remembering the events of the last year in an attempt to identify clues. 

A truly difficult task considering all the shit that happened since the previous May. 

“Please,” her croak brought him out of his thoughts. Harry looked up from the floor to see Y/n on the edge of another breakdown. But she held it together, holding Harry to a firm gaze. The next words leaving her mouth giving only a mere indication of what the Boy who Lived had in store for him when he tapped into Snape’s memories. 

“Don’t let it be for nothing.” 

19 Years Later….

Gray clouds covered the sky like a blanket in west Cornwall. So thick, not even a glimmer of the sun’s ray peaked through. Cool winds breezing, making leaves fly in the air. From above gentle rain fell, hitting the umbrella Narcissa held as she crossed into Blackmere cemetery. The gate creaked behind her, causing a black crow that had been perched on the brick to fly away. 

Draco stayed in the car, allowing his mother privacy after she denied his request to join her. The woman was adamant about going alone, “I’ll only be a moment, darling. Keep the car warm for us.”

Umbrella in one hand and a single white rose in the other, Narcissa followed the pavement trail to her destination. Passing the many tombstones of her relatives, including her young cousin, Regulus. Her movement slowed to read the words engraved on the stone, ‘Born 23 April 1961 he was taken from us at seventeen. Beloved son, and friend: we who loved you will watch for you in the night sky; for surely you will race across the heavens faster than any star’. 

Offering a silent prayer in respect, Narcissa continued down the path. Passing her parents, aunts, uncles, more cousins. Her head tipped a brief second when she strolled by Bellatrix’s. Finally she reached the plot she came for, knot forming in the back of her throat as her eyes landed on the tombstone.

A monolith of black marble stood about two feet and drove into the ground surrounded by a plethora of white Camellias. The only bit of color that stood out was the small bouquets of peonies, carnations, and lilies leaning against the stone. A tell tale sign her sister Andromeda, Mrs. Weasley, and Hermione had already stopped by that morning. 

The flowers from Andromeda were expected. But, even after nearly 20 years, Narcissa still found herself surprised by the gesture from the other two. It had been a few years after the war when the woman caught the two in the cemetery and demanded to know why they were there that Narcissa discovered why. 

“She saved my son,” Mrs. Weasley brushed away a tear that escaped, “And my daughter. Had it not been for her my Bill would’ve died that night. In the Astronomy tower. She could’ve easily left him there…but she didn’t. And Ginny,...” Molly couldn’t get the rest of the words out, becoming emotional, “For that, I’ll forever be grateful.” 

Hermione felt the heat rush to her cheeks, stuttering slightly, “There were many times she had the opportunity to sell us out--to give up Harry. At the burrow, the manor,” the girl flinched, the memories too painful to recall, “even during the battle. She chose not to. And while I know it was mostly for her own personal gain, I can’t help but feel indebted to her. Her actions saved my friends and I. For that alone, I will pay my respects.” 

Stepping forward, Narcissa placed the white rose on top of the monolith. Fingers trailing along the smooth surface before moving back to draw her eyes down. Lingering her gaze on the black & white photo next to the writing.

Carved into the marble, the engraving was simple yet elegant, ‘Y/n M/n Black: Born 10 June 1967 -- Died 2 May 1998, Finally Free.’ 

Narcissa held back the tears as she bowed her head, having cried enough over the last 19 years since Y/n died. She always thought back to those last two days. The manor. The battle. The speckle of hope at rekindling their relationship Narcissa felt when the two connected in the woods……

Narcissa let out of a breath of relief she hadn’t realized she’d been holding when Y/n emerged from the treeline. Falling into step with the rest of the Death Eaters as they marched towards the castle. The sun barely peeked out of the horizon, the light competing with the fires still burning within Hogwats. 

“Where have you been?” Narcissa whispered when she felt Y/n beside her, careful not to draw any attention to them. Glancing ahead she spotted Bellatrix skipping alongside Voldemort. “We’ve been looking everywhere--.” She cut herself off when she finally turned to her sister, horror filling her eyes by the amount of dried blood she saw. Her hand instantly came up to grip Y/n’s arm, “My God, what happened to you.” Her eyes searched for the source of injury, “Are you still bleeding--?”

“It’s not mine,” Y/n breathed, body aching from exhaustion. Voice dry and hoarse, in desperate need of water. Relieved, Narcissa loosened her grip, however the worry in her heightened upon seeing Y/n’s eyes glossen. Something she hadn’t seen in 17 years. “Severus…..” 

The witch gasped, peering at Lucius to see if he was listening, only to find him staring ahead. Narcissa gulped, moving her hand from Y/n’s wrist to her shoulder, “Is he…” The shake of Y/n’s head, followed by her sharp inhale was enough of an answer. Narcissa’s heart plummeted to her stomach. 

“Is Draco….”

“He’s in the castle,” Narcissa lowered her arm back to her side. An overwhelming amount of guilt surfaced at the fact her son was alive and well, but Snape--the man who protected him and her sister’s husband--was dead. 

“And you're certain because….” Y/n’s blank tone trailed, side eyeing her sister with a matching expression. Narcissa paled, but remained strong, not meeting her stare.

“I just do,” hands clasped in front of her stomach, holding them tightly.  “And I will find him if it’s the last thing I do.” Y/n studied her, observing for any cues that would confirm the doubt she had of her sister. Once satisfied, she turned away, although the nagging feeling something was off remained. But she was too tired to question it. 

It was then she noticed Hagrid tied up, trailing behind them carrying something in his arms. She’d always had a soft spot for the gentle half-giant. Remembering how he’d always be the first to greet students at the beginning of the term. Always a kind face, bringing an ounce of joy to the girl when all else around her was darkness. Seeing him bound was like a dagger to Y/n’s chest. Then bile rose to her throat when her eyes focused on the figure he held. 

“Is that who I think it is?”

Narcissa turned to see what Y/n was looking at, stiffening immediately and snapping her head forward. “Yes.” 

Y/n wanted to scream. Scream until her voice disappeared. Her jaw hurt by how hard she was clenching it shut to prevent herself from lashing out. Grinding her teeth to the point she feared they’d crack. Y/n wanted to curse at the world. 

It had all been for nothing…..

Feeling the fury radiate off her sister, Narcissa made the impulsive decision to say the truth before Y/n attempted to kill Voldermort herself. Having pieced together the younger witches animosity and disloyalty to the Dark Lord ages ago. With her husband gone and assuming the boy who’d be the saving grace dead, Y/n was a ticking time bomb. 

Leaning close, practically shoving herself onto her sister, Narcissa made it look like she had stumbled and Y/n caught her to the Death Eaters. Face hidden by her hair, Narcissa’s voice barely kissed against Y/n’s ear, “He’s alive.” 

A cold chill ran amongst the witch, Narcissa felt it. Indicating her sister heard her loud and clear. This was then met with Y/n taking Narcissa’s hand. When their eyes locked, Narcissa saw what Y/n was trying to convey, to which the woman nodded. An exhale released from both, Y/n removing her grip and the two stayed silent for the remainder of the journey. 

When they reached the courtyard and Voldemort began his speech, Narcissa felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning to find Y/n watching her closely, face full of sorrow and dejection, even regret. 

“I wish things had been different,” she said softly, startling Narcissa. Then she offered a small shrug accompanying a sad smile, “maybe then we could’ve been friends.” Friends. Not sisters. 

A lump formed in Narcissa’s throat, water lining her eyes, “I would’ve liked that.” A moment passed between them. Both wanting to say everything, yet unable to put it into words. Narcissa broke the silence with the small phrase that summed up the last 17 years. 

“I’m sorry.” For everything, she wanted to add but felt it wasn’t welcomed. She only hoped her sister got the message. 

Y/n’s face never changed, relaxing her shoulders with her deep exhale, telling Narcissa she did. 

“I’m sorry too.” 

Narcissa sighed as the memory came to an end, tilting her head up at the sky. It still pained her after all these years. Wondering where it all went wrong. One moment Y/n was beside her, listening to Voldermort demand loyalty from the other side. The next she’s lost in the chaos following the reveal Harry was alive. Narcissa had initially believed Y/n apparated off the grounds like many other followers had done, the Malfoy matriarch taking her son and marching away from the castle with Lucius following behind. She truly believed Y/n had beat them to the manor, only to find it empty. Then when her sister failed to arrive home that night, Narcissa brushed it off as Y/n laying low. Her worst fear being Y/n had been arrested. Dragged back to Azkaban for all eternity. 

Narcissa prayed it was the first theory. Refusing to believe her sister had become a prisoner again. 

But her hopes were crushed upon the arrival of Professor McGonagall and a member of the newly reformed Ministry of Magic two days later. Only it wasn’t to deliver the news Y/n was in Azkaban. No.

It was a death notification. Two at that.

While Bellatrix’s death was straightforward the details of Y/n’s were still unclear decades later. From what McGonagall informed her, Y/n had been caught in an explosion during the final stages of the battle in the Great Hall. She and Ginny Weasley in a 2v1 duel with Rabastan Lestrange, when suddenly a Death Eater caught them off guard by casting bombarda maxima, resulting in Y/n to push the girl away. Witnesses reported seeing Y/n thrown off her feet by the force of the spell and through the stained glass window behind her. Her screams echoing as she fell and the debris followed her down. 

 They never found her body. Based on the location, it was presumed Y/n died on impact when she hit the lake from the height of the fall. Sinking to the bottom. Whatever was left of her was likely torn by the creatures inhabiting the waters. 

The images of Y/n’s suspected death haunted Narcissa’s nightmares for months. Lucius woke up to her cries every night. Offering comfort as best as he could considering affection was not a common occurrence for the couple. And while he had the same distaste for his sister-in-law as she did him--still holding a grudge for when she beat him to a pulp--at the end of the day his wife lost her sister. Both of them in one night. She and Andromeda were now the last immediate family members of the noble and ancient House of Black. 

Everyone else was dead. 

Sighing, Narcissa began to speak. Pretending the casket in the ground contained her sister’s body and not empty. “Scorpius starts at Hogwarts this fall. Draco is at his wits end. Understandable really,” she hummed with a small frown, “with all that’s happening with Astoria, I reckon it won’t be a pleasant year.” Thinking of her grandson, Narcissa’s heart breaks a little. “But I hope Scorpius manages to find some solace at school. He’s already packing his trunk even though there’s still two months until he leaves,” she laughs softly, “Last week he found your spell books…..”

Drawing her gaze down, she finds Y/n’s picture. Looking absolutely beautiful in her white dress and simple veil, taken the day of her wedding to Snape. The image enchanted, capturing the moment she gave a genuine smile to the camera. A rare sight. The way she laid against the chair’s armrest with the window light coming through made the photo look like it was straight from the 1950s. Not to mention how timeless Y/n appeared. It was one of the very few pictures Narcissa was able to find of her sister. And it was her favorite amongst the bunch. 

“He’d snuck into the attic one morning. Lucius about had a fit, and Draco didn’t know what to do,” Narcissa closed the umbrella, the rain had stopped. “They’re in a safe space, need not to worry. But seeing as Scorpius is ambitious like the rest of us--no doubt he’ll be in Slytherin,” her tone had a hint of playfulness, “I find they’ll be in his possession soon enough. We promised, well I promised, that he can have them once he’s in his fourth year, if he maintains good grades.” 

Another sigh leaves her, shivering at the sudden breeze. “You know, part of me believes I’ll never find closure when it comes to us, Y/n. Or with your death,” her chest tightens, “Not having your body makes it hard to really move on. Plus, there are times where I swear I see you at the treeline of the Manor. Or strolling the streets of London,” her eyes flicker to the dirt, “Makes me have the slightest hope….that maybe, you’re still out there…..” A shiver ran down Narcissa’s spin as the words left her mouth. It was the first time she’d said them aloud. And after holding the sneaky suspicion of her sister being alive to herself for 19 years, she felt a weight lifted off her shoulders. 

“That maybe you survived the fall and conjured up an extravagant escape. I often picture you made a life in America--or are currently traveling the world. You always said you would when you were a child. A foolish thought I know,” her chuckle was dry, laughing at herself for even considering the idea. “It would do me right to believe like everyone else. But if by some chance I’m right,” her bottom lip quivered, gathering the courage to say the words she desperately wanted to say. “I understand why. At first I was enraged--feeling betrayed that you’d go that far. But after many years of reflecting…I can’t bring myself to be angry if you did fake your death.”

Another pause, “After all, what you wanted most in the world was your freedom.” Leaves crunched beneath her boots as she shifted her stance, “Free from this world. Free from us. Free from everything. I cannot blame you for wanting peace. I’d be a hypocrite to view otherwise.” Especially since she was able to avoid prison time with the rest of Voldemort’s followers because of what she did. 

Narcissa looked at Y/n’s picture once more. Watching the moving image repeat to commit her dazzling smile to memory. Wanting to remember her as the once beautiful kind soul she’d been before Azkaban, instead of a walking Devil historians painted her to be. A narrative Narcissa found herself battling lawsuits to erase. Even with Harry Potter revealing details of Y/n’s role in protecting him during the war, people still focused on the horrible things. 

That’s how she was remembered. A crushed, darkened soul. 

As Narcissa stared at the headstone one last time, she was completely unaware that a few feet away, perched on the monolith of their parents, was a black crow watching her intently. Listening to her every word.

And what the witch didn’t know, what she failed to realize after all these years, was that this crow had been coming to the cemetery every year. On the same day. Sitting in the same spot. Watching her place a single white rose on the grave, which the crow would carry away once Narcissa departed. 

Flying through the skies without a care in the world, now that she was free.

“I hope wherever you are, Y/n, you’ve found peace.” 

[fuckyeahaudiodrama]

☀️JUNE LISTENS☀️

i still don’t have a brain! ah!!!! but i do have ears for listening! i actually listened to a lot of stuff that i ended up not liking as much, last month, but i still have plenty to rec.

Remnants — (ep1-2 early access) a dark fantasy mystery anthology. hard to describe without giving anything away. i love everything by Hanging Sloth (creator of SBR, NQD and Clockwork Bird), so i knew that i was very likely to enjoy this regardless of the premise… but my god, absolutely surreal vibes. the sound design is breathtaking! feeling very grateful to be a HS patron right now. keep an eye out for this one coming 15th july! subscribe now and don’t miss it.

Mockery Manor — (3 seasons, 37 eps + miniseries, between seasons) a murder mystery set at a theme park with a comedic twist. i didn’t think this was going to be my thing and i was so wrong. the protags are twin sisters with plenty of baggage between them. their shenanigans and banter keep the tone light even when the plot takes dark turns. looking forward to s4!

Limelight: The Specialist — (5 eps, complete) self-described as a “dark medical thriller” set in rural wales. Limelight series are generally good but satisfying endings are hit or miss; this one was VERY well-paced, with a satisfying payoff, and gave me hope for a series 2 in future. i loved the execution of the gruesome mystery and i loved the protagonist to pieces.

Close Your Eyes — (1 season, 9 eps, s2 in production) having recently listened to RQ’s Neon Inkwell: The Pit Below Paradise, which also centers around cult dynamics, i found this to be a very fun contrast. here we see how someone can be immersed and isolated by a cult, regardless of their personal skepticism or strength of will. the suspense was so delicious i had to listen to all nine episodes in a row. ends on an incredible cliffhanger — can’t WAIT for season 2.

The Silt Verses — (44 eps, finale soon) a grim religious fantasy dystopia. some of the most intricate and fascinating worldbuilding i’ve ever seen. huge cast. i know that everyone in the AD space has rec’d this pod a hundred times over, but i can’t stress enough how it’s one of my very favorite stories in the medium. the penultimate ep left off on an absolutely deranged note and i have no idea what’s coming! so exciting, if you’ve been waiting to check this one out — now might be the time!

Dice Shame — (2 seasons, 200+ eps, ongoing) classic dnd actual play ft. Harlan Guthrie of Malevolent fame, and his equally charismatic friends and family. i don’t listen to a lot of APs bc i have trouble focusing on such long episodes but i just love the chemistry of this party. slapping it on the rec list bc the current storyline has me hooked!!

Bridgewater — (1 season, 22 eps, ???) supernatural mystery, notably starring Misha Collins as the protagonist. this one has a lot of complicated family dynamics read: mommy AND daddy issues. the length of the series is just enough to let you spawn several of your own theories, which is fun, and i was really pleased that i was able to predict the true conflict and identify the antagonist. excellent use of foreshadowing etc, biggest props to Lauren Shippen of The Bright Sessions fame.

Consumed — (12 episodes) small town horror/mystery through the eyes of a stranded newcomer. this one did NOT go where i expected it to, because i started it before i listened to Bridgewater; they’re set in the same universe, so the same worldbuilding applies. i would honestly recommend listening to this one FIRST because if you do listen to the end of Bridgewater, it will kind of spoil the twist in Consumed.

The Penumbra Podcast — (5 seasons, 2 storylines, both ending this summer) still barreling toward the finish line for both Second Citadel and Juno Steel. as a patron, i was notified of early release for the SC finale this morning, which i know is gonna wreck me. just wanted to feature this because i don’t see it recced as often anymore and that’s a fucking crime. one of my top AD recs for sure.

Red Valley — (While You Were Hypersleeping 3) three ep miniseries featuring our main best boy, warren, who has been notably absent from most of this season! so nice to hear from him and to get a glimpse of what might be coming in the next part of the season.

Observable Radio — (11 eps, ongoing) my favorite recent sci-fi/horror anthology by far, tied up in a terrifically dreadful meta narrative. afaik this is a limited series but i’m really savoring each and every episode; the most recent, “Earworm”, was one of my favorites. very dark and dystopian. mind the content warnings!

The Network Defenders — (ep1) the debut of a new Planet Arcana miniseries, featuring some new voices and a fresh new tarot-based system (crowdfunding this year!) has all of the appeal of PA in terms of prod. quality, vibes and emotional depth, just new mechanics. 2nd ep is out now so i’m hopping right on that as i post this!

Waterlogged — (ep1) a new indie horror that i’ve been waiting to drop for a while now, and i really enjoyed the soft-spoken eerie vibe of the pilot. there’s a couple more things in the feed now so i’ll have to go catch up.

[j4gm]

I finally have ALL THE MINISERIES. I sort of put a pause on completing my Adventure Time comic collection but I’ve decided to try and finish it now that we’re getting more comics in 2025.

Here’s the whole collection. All I need now in terms of comic TPBs is the last three volumes of the main 2012 series, a couple of the 2016 Comics series, and one Sugary Shorts. I’ve got some books and games and fan projects on this shelf as well but the comics are the only thing I’m actually looking to complete.

I wanna do a big reread of everything once I do :3

[spamsmcgee]

DRUNK-DAZED

Return of kpop y/n. Part one listen to Drunk-Dazed by Enhypen

Faceclaim: IU

Yuki features on yet another one of Y/N’s songs, this time he gets to be more involved in the processes. And goodbyes are weird when you have fans as passionate as you do.

I lowkey want to flesh this out for an actual miniseries. Like with plot and everything. Lmk what y’all think

yourinstagram

yourinstagram Drunk-Dazed, Featuring yukitsunoda0511, prod. agustd

yukitsunoda0511 I think this one was my favorite..

formulawhat Yuki entering his kpop idol era 😩

-Liked by yukitsunoda0511

ynlefteye Honestly if driving doesn’t work out for him 👀👀

danielricciardo Yuki is my bias

yourinstagram Mine too ☺️☺️

yukinooo 🤨🧐 I mean same but…

agustd

agustd Thank you alphataurif1

Yoongi had left already. He took his things and some extra thumb drives back to his own studio for some finishing touches as you and Yuki were left alone in your apartment.

With Yuki having to travel between races, home, and every once in a while out to Korea to also try and meet with you and Yoongi. He was nodding off in the seat across from you.

Even with all of that, and in spite of his personal training getting on him for being up a lot, he still performed well in the sport. His most recent race being a masterclass filled with overtakes and him personally dragging his car into points.

You let him sleep. You cleaned around him.

Taking dishes from the dinner that Yuki offered to cook for the three of you. The best dried tomato spaghetti you’d ever had, with some garlic bread from a small Italian place you didn’t know existed. The two of you had found it while out on a walk in one of the recent meetings.

Yuki stirred awake as you finished up. He stared, his eyes adjusting, “I would’ve helped” he said. His voice cracked from the short but still deep sleep.

“Get your sleep,” you shook your head, “we’re getting the music video done this month so you need the rest.”

The time you got to spend with Yuki almost became too much. Not in that you would start arguing or anything. More so that you became close. Close enough that you couldn’t stand together for long without laughing.

At one point in teaching the two of you the song’s choreography, your loving and always gentle choreographer Seo Chanyeol had to separate you. Yuki became a test to that man’s patience like none other.

Never raising his voice, Chanyeol looked towards Yuki as his child. A quick glare to shut him up momentarily. Not letting the eye contact linger before turning away to still his own laughter.

After promo, after practices, after it all. When everything is said and done, your Tik Toks and YouTube videos are filmed, Yuki still has to go back to work. After a month that should have given him rest and relaxation, he’s off and putting himself all into his career. The thing he wants more than anything.

The two of you stand, that airport in Seoul loud around you. Your managers and bodyguards surrounding the two of you. You’re dressed like one of them. Escorting Yuki to the airport with fans crowding him as if he were one of you.

You squeeze his hand in a moment. You don’t leave a lingering touch, for fear that some eagle eyed and trigger happy fan with a camera might spot it. No doubt that small interaction could lead to more.

He separates from the group of you, and into his own group comprised of his own managers, social media personnel, and his personal trainer.

The distance that grows between you isn’t a problem. With the amount of money and resources between the two of you, a ticket from Seoul to Bahrain, or Italy, or wherever the sport takes Yuki means nothing.

It’s the reputation that comes with it. You’ve already had your fair share of dating scandals. And while you’re not banned from dating, what’s the point?

The two of you leave in your separate directions. Not a true goodbye between you. It’ll never be goodbye. But without the promise of privacy, it feels eerily final. Just as it did the last time.

You hope he feels the same. He’d said he did, one night after filming that first video. And he’s come back, with a promise of visiting again. An invite to any race weekend you’d like.

Say the words and he’ll send whoever he has to.

It’s not safe. A relationship for you will never be as safe or secure as if you’d like.

yukitsunoda0511

yukitsunoda0511 So happy to share with you all my second project with yourinstagram, and first time working with agustd. This time I got to be a lot more involved with the creation of this song and it was great.

pierregasly When are you doing your own song?

yukitsunoda0511 👀👀 gnabnahc

formulawhat the question is, who is he eating with?

miniyoong at this point it could be either Yoongi or y/n and it would still make sense.

yukinooo Yungi or Yoonki is the question now.

yourinstagram I can’t wait for next time!

yukitsunoda0511 I’m already thinking about it 😂

[lunastars21]

Welp, today is one year since Sonic superstars came out,

so for this special day I’ll finally put all my thoughts in this blog, so I can finally put this gosh darn game behind me! XD, so read if you like and enjoy the ride!

My (Hopefully) last Superstars Rant:

Well, this is it. Today is Sonic superstars first anniversary, and unlike the two classic games before it, this one doesn't come with a plus version at all. To say I'm not surprised is an understatement.

Now before we start let me get some things out of the way, First of all: This is MY OPINION on the game, if you like it that's fine, if you hate it that's fine too! I just want to get my thoughts out now and finally bury this game into the ground where it can stay there, alright! Second of all, I have no hatred for Trip, I may sound like I hate her, but I do think she is really neat and fun to play as and I hope she returns in future classic titles.

Now with that out the way let's begin:

I became obsessed with Fang the Sniper/Hunter on August 15, 2022 (yes, I remember the exact date), and when I finished reading all the information, one thing was clear to me.

Okay, I'm NEVER seeing him again

Pretty simple mindset I gave myself because of a few reasons!

1. He's a classic character, so he isn't allowed in modern with cool cutscenes nor voice acting

2. He hasn't had a big appearance since sonic the fighters and only had a cameo in mania

3. What kept him relevant was Archie, and that got canceled in 2017, so his only hope was idw. But they only do classic for anniversary specials, so once again, nothing for a good while anyway

All of it was clear to me that Sega wasn't going to use him, nor Bean or Bark. So I immediately adopted them as any fan who has been waiting for their return for over 20 years would, I gave them headcanons and their own story, Because if sega wouldn't, I will!

..and then Jun 8, 2023 arrived during a direct. Sonic superstars was revealed, and Fang would return in it. A coincidence I got into him a year before his return!? I dunno! But I thought it was a blessing in disguise! I was excited about it! October 17th was gonna be the best day of my life, I thought.

I was there for the comic short, I was there for the trio of trouble animation, and I was planning to buy his miniseries books once they were READY in January! I was prepared to give my full support so Fang could have more appearances just like Mighty and Ray! Hell, even hearing that Sonic Superstars takes place BEFORE Sonic Adventure gave me hope that if this game does well! They'll finally put classic characters in modern, this is where the barrier was and if Fang could break it! That would be awesome! I had my hopes way too high, and that was my mistake.

October 17th finally arrives and I buy the digital deluxe version, giving sega 70 smackeroons for the art book mostly and to support my jerboa in his career.

And then I played the game. It took probably 3 to 4 days to finish all the stories. My pros about it! Mostly great stages and atmosphere, I love the little cutscenes that were in, the controls were okay, and Trip as a playable character was fun to play as! Basically, being a better knuckles and Amy combined, the emerald powers could use work, but overall, I thought it was a neat idea to have these gems show they weren't useless on their own! This game has a ton of potential with all the ideas they were cooking with!

And uh

That's about it

Now for why you're probably here and why I'm writing this to begin with

The cons..

First off,

WHY DOES THE MUSIC SWITCH BETWEEN GOOD AND DOG SHIT!?

I WAS ABSOLUTELY EXCITED TO HEAR FANG'S THEME REMIXED AFTER ALL THESE YEARS AND YOU GAVE THAT TO THE OTHER GUY INSTEAD OF TEE LOPES!? YOU DIDN'T PICK THE COMPOSER WHO MADE THE FIRE SONIC MANIA SOUNDTRACK YOU GIVE IT TO THE GUY THAT USES THE SONIC 4 SOUNDFONT!?(No offense to them)

I have mixed feelings about Fang's theme in this game, it's groovy at first but then when we get to the part the song usually drops and goes into an absolute banger, it LOOPS early and doesn't play the part! My favorite part of his theme is CUT OFF from the song! Making it shorter and more annoying! And I can only listen to it maybe 2 times before I get sick of it!

Listen to the srb2 version that is more of a banger.

Another Con is the lack of story! I KINDA get the idea of what's going on, but where is this STUPID EGG FROM, HOW DID IT GET UNLEASHED? There's no cutscene that shows Eggman or Fang opening it up! It just spawns on its own and then gets sealed away, fucker doesn't even have a name it's just DARK DRAGON. Also the animation in this game that's 2D went down in quality compared to its trio of trouble short! What happened!? And why does Fang have SHREK EARS, just remove the tube's, don't give him earholes its fine! It's not supposed to make sense anyway!

Also, Trip's story is the same as knuckles, she's the last of her kind in an isolated island because her people fucked with the emeralds, she's now it's quote on quote guardian and she gets tricked (more like forced) by Eggman and Fang to be their tour guide through the islands untill she meets sonic and defeats them together, Lack of FIGHTING sonic because despite the game calling her an antagonist she doesn't really do shit against the heroes at all. But she's BASICALLY knuckles but a shy girl. We got this story before man, come on.

Okay, got the small points out the way, now for the spotlight of the hour..

Why the fuck does this game market Fang when he RARELY SHOWS UP!

This game went full force on marketing for Fang when it was announced, he got a mini comic explaining why he's there, he got an animated short, he got a miniseries announcement, HE FINALLY GOT A MINI FIGURE! He had comics in super fast friends that were going on at the time! And other official art from the main account!

But when you play the game, yes he shows up in cutscenes, but you only face him off 3 times and TWO OF EM ARE OPTIONAL, you have no choice but to play level sonic to run away from him, but the golden capital Boss fight (which is really time consuming) can be skipped via a glitch, and you DON'T have to fight him In trip's story if ya don’t want too, ya could just play and finish the main story and put it on the shelf bam boom ya done!

“But I wanna fight the dragon”

Not worth it, it's a pain in the ass like the other boss fights. So in reality if you skip golden capital and never play trip's story, you fight Fang

ONCE

And it's not even a fight you just run away from him!

This game was fully marketed for him, and he only made ONE ACTUAL SHOWING, and that's it! He doesn't have an ending cutscene. He doesn't show up at all during or after the dark dragon fight. He just vanishes. The End.

When I finished the game, I was absolutely pissed about it. I gave Sega 70 dollars to show my support, and he only showed up for a few minutes, and then he peace sign vanished. Ya wanna stay with him for 2 hours? Play his final boss fight because that's how long it took me to beat him.

Speaking of, I actually had a more annoying time with the Eggman final boss than Fang's. The second phase of eggmans was always buggy with me and kept killing me, at least with Fang my deaths were more of my mistake than a bug and his ending blow with his nose made me actually laugh because I didn't expect it and found it funny, and his boss theme is a banger too. (So that's a plus)

Another fault with Fang is the scene after his golden capital fight, where Trip stands up to him after he kicks Her in which the whole Fandom started calling him an abuser (even tho she has armor on so it shouldn't even do much) and now it's all over his god damn wiki, doesn't help his miniseries supports that now more too. And I know, people will love a genuine asshole character, but what bothers me is that

He is just EGGMAN 2.0 IN THIS GAME

Who else mistreats their allies, eggman

Who else builds a giant robot of themselves, eggman

Who else runs away when things get dire, EGGMAN

The only difference between them is that Fang is still greedy, but they are basically the SAME CHARACTER HERE.

I thought this game would go a different direction for him because the animated short and Fang's big break have the same morals.

Learning from your mistakes.

In both stories, Fang struggles against a giant animal ( the giant flicky and giant snake), but once he calms himself down or remembers a past experience, he focuses and defeats the foe! Both stories show how smart Fang can be if he puts his mind to it, and he is not called a hunter for nothing!

So I thought superstars would do the same thing in that scene in golden capital Zone, Fang would realize he is out numbered, his robot isn't done and Trip moved to the hero side, taking all the emeralds he had. at that point, it wouldn't be worth it, especially if Eggman already paid him in advance, and team up with the heroes instead to save his own hide. At the start of the game, Fang ALREADY got what he wanted. He could leave if he wanted to. Those stories showed Fang was smarter than he seemed, but instead in this FUCKING GAME he doesn't do that! He still goes in the UNFINISHED ROBOT and gets one shot by Trip.

I get that at the end of the day he's still an antagonist, BUT PREVIOUS STORIES SHOWED ME HE WASN'T THIS STUPID, SO FUCKING WHY.

This continues in his miniseries! Doesn't wanna go back for Bark, wastes TWO ISSUES searching for an 8th Emerald and getting nothing, and the 4th he separates from bark and bean because of his stupidity Not learning at all to be grateful or show any remorse, which is fine if people like him that way it's cool, but once again that just makes him EGGGGMMMMAAAAAN.

What I found cool about Fang is that he could be NEUTRAL! he'd be an enemy of sonic in triple trouble, but then the next beats up eggman and saves the world in sonic the fighters, and even fights THEN TEAMS UP with sonic at the end of the season of chaos special.

It was clear to me that fang can be a bad or good person as long as it benefits HIM. So him jumping in that Mech and kicking Trip DIDN'T benefit him at all, and losing Bean and bark didn't either because them not being there leads to his fate in superstars.

You can like the hooligans being together or not, but the whole thing stands, these boys were last seen in archie together, which got canceled and didn't show up again till season of chaos. At this point, specifically archie fans, WE GOT ATTACHED TO THEM as a team, we saw them up there with the other teams! And I got an entire discord server to prove it!

So, just splitting them up like that is a stab in the gut. That despite all of the waiting, sega decided to listen To fucking 2, 3, or more people (no offense to you) who hated team hooligan to seperate them and blame it all on fang.

Which by the way Bean ANNOYED me in the miniseries, and not in a good way, him and Fang arguing EACH issue was getting on my nerves, issue 3 being the best of the whole thing because they RARELY argued in that one. That issue showed the potential of the Hooligans and how good they worked as a team. AND SEGA THREW IT OUT THE WINDOW!!!! FUCKING GENIUSES HERE.

Plus they could've EASILY left In issue 2 if they could separate the side cars from the Queen since they could already LATER ON in issue 4. (Bean and Bark ya both fuckin stupid ya not escaping my wrath either I'm ANGY

I Still love yall tho)

I'm fine with Fang being a jerk, But there should be a limit and getting him to “abusive Level” isn't it, despite issue 3, I wasn't happy or laughing as I thought I would for the game or miniseries, Because the hooligans are like looney tunes for me, when I see them, I wana laugh and have a good time. Not be depressed. And I know people like when Fang is cool and serious, I do too, but he was also made to be funny. If you want a 100% serious character, Shadow is RIGHT THERE.

Superstars was marketed for Fang fans. Everything related to it was, it was SUPPOSED to be his grand return. But no, it's a lie. This game was made so you could feel bad for Trip and like her. Fang was just a tool used to lure people to the game and love this lizard. That's all it was. He was just bait, so once Trip got the fans sega wanted, they would throw him away into the vault again, but this time with no Bean, no Bark, not even a bloody popgun, they just left him there to suffer.

That's how I view sonic superstars, a game baited to classic sonic fans, making it seem like an old character's return, when in reality, it's to get people to like Trip, a new character. Who won't even fucking show up till a new classic sonic game comes out or a new anniversary special.

That's why I find it so frustrating, and no matter how much I try, I won't be able to fully like this game because of this information, HELL SHE GOT A FULL SUPER FORM! NOT EVEN AMY, TAILS, NOR KNUCKLES GOT THAT SHIT.

They just got “Super powers” ooOoOo

Bullshit, and the fact your friends can't play as the same character in their levels sucks, Kirby easily did it for magolor, but nope! Ya gotta play level sonic with one player as your friends watch.

Anyway, I think that's everything. Thanks for reading this far. Once again this is just my opinion, I wanted to finally let that all out as for certain there's no plus adaptation for this, and that I want to finally forget this game, I already made a fanfic chapter doing it my way to satisfy how this story actually ends while being consistent. And maybe Fang will get another chance in another 20 years. But until then, I'll enjoy the small moments that did make me smile in that game and his miniseries, like him using an ice sword or having a big mech, and if you actually Enjoyed the game and everything it came with, and still love Fang despite it all, good for you! I'm glad you still like fang, whether he's good, bad, or neutral in your book! All I care about is that you like him, so thank you. :] but I'm fairly certain. Rarely any Sonic fans will celebrate its anniversary. If anything, mostly Trip fans will as it's her birthday.

…

ALSO BRING BACK HIS POPGUN YOU COWARDS! WHY DIDN'T HE USE IT DURING THE MINISERIES HE DIDN'T BREAK IT YET BY THEN AAAGGHGG

Cough if you want a better 2D game with more playable characters and a good story with great music.

Play Mario Wonder

Or play the new mario party! That's out today! ^^

Okay, have a nice day <333

[angelinthefire]

Thinking about a 6-part miniseries about Cas. The premise being that there's some way for him to get back the memories that were taken from him, and he's going through the process of re-experiencing them (and this is why we haven't seen him yet, because he's been occupied with this).

So we're following Cas through time, seeing every instance of him going off-script, and every time it gets harder and harder to reset him. And there could be 3 or 4 actors besides Misha who play Cas at various points in history. And there could be returning spn actors for different angels as well as recasts for different "versions" of them. There would be a chance to get into some complex relationships between sibling-soldiers who are under a cult-like authority.

The way I'm imagining it, it would be "kalaidoscopic" to use Edlund's word for describing Cas' perspective. Non-linear narratives layering on top of each other, and making use of motifs and recurring elements in an almost dream-like way, building Cas' story as someone who fought to be his own person. The whole thing being kind of epic and fantastical and philosophical.

And of course it ends with Cas' reunion with Dean. I think in previous episodes there could be short little "missing scenes" situated within the main spn canon, to really re-establish Dean and Cas' relationship for any uninitiated viewers. But by the time it gets to the end, after following Cas' whole story, Dean is framed as the last instance in a long series of Cas' struggles to assert his own sense of right and wrong, his own sense of self. Dean is the time when it finally stuck. So there's a real narrative weight, within the 6 episodes, to them reuniting, it's not just for the sake of finishing what spn started.

And I'm still imagining the reunion scene being something like what I posted about here. Where Dean asks Cas to jailbreak Heaven with him, break the rules with him one more time, run away so they can live their own life. So that Dean is the realization of everything Cas' story has been driving towards.

And then the thing with Jack being taken over by God happens (see linked post). Because a) Cas can't just go off with Dean and leave Jack behind, so there has to be a reason for him to oppose what Jack's been doing in Heaven, and the answer to that is he's God instead of Jack. And b) the series ends on an open page, with Dean and Cas going back into the world as these twin agents of chaos and free will, and you have the sense that they're always going to be out there fighting for free will and fighting to be masters of their own lives, and the story will never end.

[dearestro]

Icecream Sundaes

Disclaimer: I couldn't think of a title ok? But I had to name it something.

Warnings: Innuendos, crudish language, allergic reaction.

Summary: Who knew icecream could be dangerous? Part of the Chase Miniseries.

"Daddy!" You heard your four year old yell as she rushed to the front door.

"Princess!" You looked to see Robert come in with a few bags of groceries as he picked up your daughter and spun her around as she giggled. You smiled at the sight.

"Don't be too flattered. She knows you're the one with the icecream!" You laughed as he looked up at you while still holding Layla. 

"Well, that's not true, is it Layla?" He turned to your daughter.

"Icecream!" You smirked as the smile fell from his face, and he playfully rolled his eyes before setting the child down and following you into the kitchen.

"Told you." You smiled as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist after setting down the bags.

"Yeah well...you're excited to see me. Right?" He started to kiss your neck as you laughed.

"I suppose." You feigned disinterest as he just scoffed, causing you to giggle before turning to capture his lips with yours. He only pulled you closer to deepen the kiss in response.

"Icecream!" Layla shouted, effectively interrupting the moment. Robert groaned before letting you go to look through the grocery bags. Inside the first two bags, you found chocolate chips, chocolate syrup, bananas, maraschino cherries, waffle cones, chocolate, and vanilla icecream. You finally reached the smaller third bag and opened it to find strawberry icecream, sauce, and strawberries. You frowned before turning your husband.

"Why did you get these?" You asked, holding up the forbidden foods.

"You two like them, who am I to stop you from enjoying icecream sundae night?" He shrugged as if it was no big deal. You rolled your eyes at him.

"Alright, but do you think you can survive a few days without kisses?" You teased.

"I'm sure I'll be fine without mouth kisses." He deadpanned as you snorted at his word choice.

"Mouth kisses?" You quirked a brow.

"Well, yeah, what else am I supposed to call them? After all, every other body part is still kissable, right?" You rolled your eyes before starting to unpack the supplies.

The three of you had begun to create your own sundaes. Robert on one end of the island and you on the other so that you could both help Layla when needed. You made sure to keep the strawberry stuff separate and wait until everything else was finished with to cut them so as to not get your husband sick.

Layla insisted on putting anything and everything on hers while you and Robert stuck to the basics. You all were about finished when you decided to start washing the strawberries.

"I'll be right back. I have to use the restroom." Murmured your husband as he pressed a kiss to your temple. You continued to wash and cut the strawberries as Layla looked over the sundaes.

By the time your husband had gotten back, you had added the strawberry stuff to your and your daughter's icecream bowls, and all sat down to eat. Layla eagerly dug in as you and Robert shared one last allergen free kiss before going to your own.

"Why does this taste like strawberries?" Your eyes widened at Robert's question.

"I don't know...I waited until you were done making yours to even use anything you were allergic to." You stared at his face intently, making sure nothing changed as he shrugged it off and continued to eat. 

Unfortunately, it didn't take long for his face to turn red, and he started wheezing. At seeing and hearing his distress, you jumped up and ran for the epi pen you had kept for situations like this just in case as he started to panic at the lack of oxygen. You tried to gently but quickly move your daughter out of the way so you could reach his thigh. You hesitated for a second, quickly thinking to turn your daughter away from the sight so she wouldn’t see you stab her father before you jammed it into his muscle. He took a quick breath in as you rushed to dial 911 and ushered your daughter away from the scene.

The paramedics got to the house in time and rushed your husband off in an ambulance while you were left with Layla to follow. You, along with your little girl, had tears streaming down your face at the horrific situation. You because you had almost lost your husband and her because even though she didn't quite understand the situation, she knew it was bad. 

As you arrived at the hospital, you rushed to the ER where you were told to wait while they stabilized him. 

"Where's Daddy?" Your little girl sobbed as you shushed her and caressed her blonde hair.

"He's just a little sick." You lied. "We'll see him soon." She nodded as you rubbed your hand up and down her back. "Do you have any idea why Daddy's icecream tasted like strawberries?" You asked her gently, not wanting to further upset the toddler. She sniffled before looking down at her lap. "Layla?"

"I just wanted to help...I thought Daddy might like the red sauce..." You sighed at her admission. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt him!" She cried as she burried her face in the crook of your neck.

"I know, babygirl. Shh. I know." You continued to comfort her. "But next time you have to ask before adding anything to our food. Especially Daddy's...ok?" She only nodded against your neck as a doctor came out to meet you.

"Mrs. Chase?" You nodded. "He's ok, we'll keep him here a while, and we've put him on fluids, but otherwise, he should be fine." You sighed in relief before turning to your distraught daughter.

"You hear that, baby? He's ok, you're ok. We're all ok." You tried to soothe her fears but to no avail, so you turned back to the doctor. "Can you bring us to him?" He nodded as you got up to follow him, Layla, on your hip, still burying her face in shame.

Once you got to the room, you knocked on the door lightly before hearing a gentle 'Come in'.

"Hi. Someone wanted to see you." You whispered as you closed the door behind you and walked over to the bed. 

"Hey babygirl." He said as he reached for Layla, but the little girl flinched away. "What's wrong?" His eyebrows furrowed at the toddler's odd behavior. 

"She’s still a little upset..." He gave you a look. "I'll tell you later." He nodded, understanding that now wasn't the time, so you sat down at his bedside. "How's your thigh?" You asked as you lightly touched where the epi pen had been administered.

"Sore." He pouted as you shook your head and chuckled.

"Poor baby." You said as you rubbed small circles around the area. "Speaking of which, we're gonna be here a while." You said as you looked at the time it was around 8:30.

"Here, come here, Princess. I'll turn on the tv." Robert said as he reached for your daughter. He frowned as she shook her head and refused to look at him. "You don't want to cuddle?" He asked, the sadness clear in his voice. 

"Why don't you cuddle with Daddy? It might make him feel better." You whispered to your daughter in hopes she might perk up. She hesitated before nodding and climbing onto the bed and snuggling into Robert's side. He smiled as she finally acknowledged him and reached to turn the tv on and flip through the channels before finding a child friendly channel. The two of them just sat in silence as everyone turned their attention to the small tv.

After about an hour, you turned to see your daughter sleeping and your husband nodding off. It was a sweet sight, and surely both of them needed the rest. Unfortunately, you still had to talk to Robert and now was as good a time as ever.

"Honey?" You prodded his shoulder before going to move the wisps of hair out of his face. He started to stir and murmured something before opening his eyes.

"Hmm?" He squinted his eyes at the light. 

"I found out how you got sick." You whispered. He raised a tired brow. "When you were in the bathroom and I had my back turned while cutting the strawberries...Layla added strawberry sauce to your bowl. Apparently, we're both blind since we didn’t see the color." You shook your head. "That's why she's been avoiding you...she feels bad." He frowned before looking at the sleeping toddler. 

"Poor girl. Probably scared her half to death." He murmured as he pet down her stray hairs and put his lips to her hairline.

"She just wanted to help...she thought you might like it. I told her she has to ask next time before adding anything to our food." Tears started to pool in your eyes unbeknownst to you. "She thinks it's her fault." A tear dripped down your cheek. "It isn’t really. I should've been watching her better." You stifled a sob as Robert reached for you.

"Hey, hey. It's not her fault, and it's not yours either. It was a mistake. I'm ok! We're all ok..." He said as he pulled you close and kissed your temple. 

"But I could've lost you! And she thinks it's her fault, but it's not she's just a baby! I'm the adult! I should've known better!" You cried. You didn't want to break down like this, but you couldn't help it. Robert was the love of your life and because you were careless...you could've lost him. It was just too much.

"Shh. Hey. Don't cry." He grabbed your chin and made you look at him. "Everything’s all right. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine...I bought the damned stuff, and then when I thought I tasted it, I continued to eat it!" He laughed as you chuckled sadly.

"To be fair, you aren't the brightest." You smirked as he feigned offense.

"I'll have you know I'm a doctor. Thank you very much." 

"And yet you don't carry your epi pen. I had to sneak it into your briefcase and give Foreman one in case of emergencies." You rolled your eyes.

"I don't need one!" 

"And what do you call this?" 

"A fluke!" You scoffed at his excuse.

You were about to protest, but a nurse came in.

"Looks like you're good to go!" She said as she went over the chart before going to remove the iv. 

Eventually, the three of you made it home, and after quickly cleaning up and putting Layla to bed, you collapsed onto your own. You snuggled up into the covers exhausted after the emotional day you had. Soon enough, the space next to you sunk down and two arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a firm chest. He started to kiss the back of your hair and rub circles on your hips as you giggled softly.

"Not tonight, sweetheart. You already had an exhausting day. I don't want to over exert you." You said as you hid your tired smirk in the pillow.

"Please...if anyone gets exhausted, it's you. Then again, screaming and moaning my name all night must be tiring." You could hear the smirk through his voice as you rolled your eyes.

"I'm not the one that fell asleep as soon as he-" 

"That was one time! I had a tiring day at work..." You twisted in his arms to look at the pouting man.

"I know, love." You smirked. He started to lean in to kiss you, but you quickly put your fingers to his lips. "Nuh-uh. No mouth kisses, remember, mister?" He groaned.

"I'm never buying strawberries again."

Author's Note: @mother-marilynn

[z3ny44]

Spoilers for Fionna and Cake Finale Double Episode Post

-Alright, episode 9 started of with a scare! That nightmare really seemed real for a second, and Marshall looked like Shoko when she fell into the radioactive river....

Thank god it was a dream honestly, but the main even of this episode... The Lich begging for Golb to acknowledge his achievements, his success in ending all life on his reality, only to be denied of any form of gratification and to be stripped of his own reason and turned into a tetris block...

I really liked this bit, I think Fionna and Cake had the best moments of Lich alongside his speech in the Citadel episode. His expression, his posture, his rage alongside his struggle... How can a character so inherently impossible to kill, be absolutely finished by no more than a look from the one whom he called his scholar.

Also Simon kicked him that's funny,, poor Jerry

And Now, from the 1000+ years Ooo, we get to see Shermy and Beth again! They are vandalizing Gibbon's kingdom, that, in case you don't remember or don't know, he's the son of Charlie (Jake's daughter that played Card Wars)

I really like 1000+ years Ooo. In a way its cozy but at the same time uncanny cuz you really don't know anyone... (I mean Marcy and PB are canonically alive but still they only appear in the Come Along with Me Intro) I wish it was a miniseries itself!!! Simon got TP'd to Shermy's head and still is trying to find a crown. They went to the library which is now ruled by the paper guys, and a robot in a turtle shell? uh,,, okay?

And yeah basically the Scarab is back cuz Ellis P freed them,,, bruh.

-LAST EPISODE FFS PAWN SWAN IS CANON WOOO

Okay but in all seriousness, the episode continued F&C dealing with the Scarab, and they just threw him all the guys that he imprisoned, which shows us what we already had a feeling since he caught Kheirosiphon: the Scarab just caught outlaw, independently if they are good or bad, most of these guys are reformed and have started a new life... he's just so shitty... like, look at these little Big guy :')

Anyways, to get done with the F&C story, basically Prismo tp's the Peppermint tank, alongside with Jay, little Destiny and BABY FINN!! WHICH IS HUGE?! Finn is going to grow up in Fionna's universe, and if the series continues, we might even see a normal world grew up Finn (with grew up I mean like 15, lol) ALSO WE SEE TIFFANY

Simon's side on the other hand,,, jeez I feel like I was synced with Simon in a way that I never really acknowledged Betty's sacrifice... She really did put everything on the side to be with Simon, and for his happiness.... not that it went by unnoticed, but it bugs me to think... what if they did it differently? What if he went on the trip with Betty... I mean to be fair we have the answer... he dies to vampires a couple years after, but how was the time he spent with Betty? What did they change? How did they change and grew even if it did not last forever....

and if you think that this was the part that hit the hardest... buddy..

Yeah,,, I think Betty isn't even there anymore, this was a goodbye... It wasn't explained but I think it was implied that she is gone... That Golb is back to his normal form... i don't know if this will have repercussions in the future? Maybe reform Lich and fuse with him?! I'm just throwing random ideas at this point.

-Final Opinion: This series was amazing, I'm always happy to have more Adventure Time content, it being my main artistic inspiration makes it so much more fantastic to see new characters, places and stories. It was definitely the best mini series so far. The funniest, the most interesting, and the prettiest visually. The epilogue was so heartwarming, Fionna being able to talk with Simon via sms, he's having therapy with Minerva, and PRISMO! Prismo now has the Scarab with him in the Time Room, they are going to make stories together hehe.

(also there was a frame in which prismo's head was flipped? idk if it was an error wtf)

[clueless-fan-critic]

I'm a Sucker for Witches: Agatha All Along Episode 1 Reaction

Okay, it has been a while since watching a MCU tv show with the last one losing me. I mean, a spy show with the Skrulls? It was way too much work to sit through. But Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur hasn't finished Season 2, so I might as well get back into the MCU by watching the show that continues arguably one of the best MCU miniseries WandaVision.

First Episode Time!!!

We get a serial drama with Agnes Conners as the morally complex police detective who encounters a body in the woods. As the show progresses, we get to see how the lines of fact and fiction are blurring, revealing that Agnes, aka Agatha Harkness, was trapped in Wanda Maximoff's spell as the nosy neighbor. Upon Wanda's death, it seems the spell was losing hold over Agatha's mind and finally freed. But only to realize that she's completely powerless with witches wanting revenge against her. The ending/title sequence clearly make it clear that it's all about the witches of the MCU and their collective history.

It Was Agatha All Along!!!

The first episode really gripped me with whether or not Agatha was actually going crazy or that the spell was becoming undone upon Wanda's death. They established that Wanda's death in the Doctor Strange movie took place around three years after the Hex and Agatha's imprisonment. Meaning, Wanda's spell was weakening or fading. It's also establishes key points such as the destruction of the Darkhold copies, as well as some allusions to the fictional reality that Wanda created based on Agatha's demeanor. It puts out a lot of necessary info but doesn't feel like info-dumping for the sake of the MCU algorithm. Okay, moving on.

The new characters portrayed by Joe Locke and Audrey Plaza make a big impression with each sharing some connection with Agatha. The returning Westview residents make it clear they were aware of Agatha and played along to avoid trouble, still clearly shaken by the trauma as Wanda's puppets in the Hex.

One standout scene was Agatha slowly going into her previous personas in the Hex: Modern, early 2000s, 80s, 70s, and finally 60s. It felt like she was clawing her way into remembering who she was while clearly confused and distressed as she might be going crazy.

Quick Theories/Thoughts

The show is building up to what happens at the end of the Witches' Road and what might be in store for Agatha and her coven. I think Agatha will gain her powers to some capacity and might discover a much bigger threat than the Scarlet Witch.

I also hope there's some confirmation on Joe Locke as Billy Kaplan in the show because people have been mislead in the past with the whole Mephisto debacle and Fake Quiksilver. This could establish an adaptation of the Children's Crusade featuring the Young Avengers. And may finally give us one step closer to Wiccan and Hulkling. I just hope they can do justice by them while also putting a good spin on what kind of characters they are in the MCU.