#midday execution

[bachel0roflaws]

recent things

[alexanderpearce]

okay the homework situation is fine and i've made the executive decision that i'm going to make it. i scheduled out so many days for uni stuff but it's looking like i'll need less of them because of how much i did this past week :)

[ickypuppi3]

people at work will be like oh hey why don’t you do this for me? :) and then when you go to do it they’re like haha you utter fool you blubbering idiot i was joking how could you not see that that was a joke are you stupid are you so so stupid kill yourself right n

[eviefyres]

at what point is it not foreshadowing and just directly stating the events that will occur because you were doomed from the start

[kalashtars]

google how to google 'how to feel alive' without getting the most bullshit answers possible

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍

# with trafalgar law.

the heir to a throne had taken a liking to you — and law takes it upon himself to mark you his.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, day eleven. smut (mdni!). hate!sex. choking. possessive!law. biting. marking. mentions of blood. shower!sex. dom!law. afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.3k.

one could mention beyond one dozen fear-stricken adjectives when it came to the surgeon of death. sadistic, ruthless, cruel. the one to rearrange your limbs, to tear your beating heart off your chest and sell to whoever paid more. strangers trembled at the mention; lower-ranks marines were advised to not engage. law was but a monstrous criminal to most, a force to be reckoned with. to his crewmates, he lost partial sharpness, for he was but cap — strict, strategical, cunning, with a preference for solitude more often than not ignored by said boisterous subordinates. to you, he was law. a passionate, yet cold, individual — as though white flame. wielder of neutral facade that hid a habit of collecting coins; an excitement over illustrated, super-hero stories. zelous glances; fleeting brushes of fingers. love explicit through palid eyes, the mirror to his soul with your name all but engraved on it.

a commonly chosen adjective, agreed regardless of those who spoke, was that trafalgar law was thoroughly unlucky. which had been shown a fair amount of times through his journey at sea, one of them right in that instance.

it was supposed to be a common, brief, re-stocking period. when considering the increasing bounty on his head, law being the one assigned to stay-at-ship, caring for it rather than venturing through the streets, was understandable — advisable, even. whenever the captain was in need of particulars, he’d write it down and entrust you with the task of buying it all for a fair price. bepo acted as both a companion and an escort, and said routine had been settled for such a prolonged period that neither of you had expected law to leave later on that day. as capable as he was, captains had first-mates for a reason, and as a result of his stubborn nature, law suffered a combined attack from the kingdom’s security force, which culminated in his capture altogether.

the promise of the marines’ arrival had the crew on edge, desperately seeking for a route to the palace’s dungeon, yet finding none. the solution, however, fell from the skies — or rather you had thrown yourself in its arms. a naive prince, wielder of a bleeding heart and with quite a haste to fall in love. it had taken neither effort nor time to sway him off his feet, a golden crown wrapped around your criminal-esque finger. the man had taken you for a sweet commoner, enlightened at the idea of meeting one who was not royal, and after proper wording you had him at your feet within the midday.

you were showered in jewelry; poems; promises. he demanded a song to be written in your honor and defended you to whoever dared meddle. by the end of the afternoon, you had managed to successfully convince him to escort you to the dungeons — oh, my brave knight! —, for you were ever-so-curious to see the terrible surgeon of death, chained and set to execution. the prince had no time to react — too busy bragging — when you knocked both him and the guard off, stealing the keys and freeing your lover within the second.

law was revolted at your recklessness, yet curious as to how you had managed to get an audience in the dungeon. regardless, the flame of rage dimmed down into an endless, dark pit of hatred when the pair of you managed to escape and run towards the polar tang ashore. as it seemed, you were far too successful in your seducing, for now the guards followed-in-suit, shouting at each other and informing that the surgeon of death kidnapped the prince’s bride. to make matters worse, a celebratory festival was arranged and thrown, exploding fireworks announcing the incoming marriage.

law grew quieter; deadlier. he sliced whichever guard dared to come in between the route of your escape, and once the tang, at last, submerged, he was in such a mood that no crewmate had enough courage to approach him, rather focusing on the urgent task of fleeing. you weren’t given the privilege of shying away from his wrath, for a room, followed-in-suit by a shambles, had you locked in his chambers the second thereafter.

he scanned your figure, face contorting in both disgust and non-contained possessiveness. you were adorned in gold from head-to-toe, courtesy of the prince. the silken dress you wore, expensive and brand new. law prided himself in the jumpsuits the others’ wore — chest embroidered with the symbol of his crew, a lingering reminder to the external that their loyalty laid with him. yet, with you — his lover —, said jumpsuit had him growing twice as territorial; twice as prideful. he used to smirk at the thought of lustful men and women alike, cowering at the sight of the symbol you proudly displayed, retreating in fear for they knew you were his. his to protect; to adore; to touch. not the bride of a prince so incompetent he could neither sway a sword nor differentiate west from east. not a queen, but a pirate — his pirate.

at last, however, law had grown envious. the submarine’s temperature was erratic, oftentimes freezing, yet prone to insufferable warmth, depending on the sea’s conditions. those jumpsuits, although unfashionable, unflattering, had a purpose — to guarantee the comfort and safety of his crew. you feigned indifference, but he never once missed your lingering glance at the outfits worn by the straw-hat’s crew during the alliance. you, too, wished for that, and the context of being a heart pirate did not allow it. there you stood, wearing a dress gifted by another man, shining with the jewelry of his family. it made law’s entire being flare with revolt, and as if that hadn’t been enough, the scent of that prince was smeared all over your skin, causing his own to itch. treacherous thoughts a haze of unwanted images, the sight of that man hugging your shoulders; hunched over you; breath fanning over your face.

perhaps that had been the price to pay for his request for discretion; for the desperate — and unnecessary — grip he had on his privacy. your skin was unmarked, untraced. he never dared bite, never thought useful to apply perfume. no wonder that royal blood believed you free for the taking. law would need to fix that.

if he were a decent man, he would have spared the time to appreciate your efforts; to thank you for going through such lengths to save his life. yet law had not an ounce of gratitude to spare, for he cared more for the claim of your life than for the maintenance of his own.

“did you have fun?” he inquired, drawing pleasure from your wariness, shrinking as though a cornered prey. law grimaced at his approach, bitter as the prince’s perfume invaded his nostrils. “was it enjoyable being pampered while i rotted in a cell?”

your eyes widened, lips parted in shock. “of course not! i was worried sick—”

“don’t interrupt me,” law snapped, struggling to control his breathing.

it was unusual for him to behave in such an angered state, logic thrown aside for the sake of raw emotion. he was not an untamed beast of uncontrollable impulses; he was the patient feline who sent his prey to the edge of despair before offering them the sweet reprieve of death. law was not some half-assed hound who pounded without appreciating what had been given; he was not the damned eustass kid. yet, perhaps the bastard had a point — not that law would ever admit that out loud.

law kicked the small trash can straight into your feet, his eyes boring into yours. “throw it away.”

your fingers wrapped themselves around the clasp of the necklace you wore, and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, gripping the cleavage of your dress. “this one first.”

you complied, scanning him through worried eyes. law drowned in the sight of silk slipping from your shoulders to the ground, fluid fabric wavering in its descent as though a cascate of liquid, pale fire. law hated it. once he was done with you, he’d set that dress aflame with not a care for the stench whatsoever. you hunched over to grab the silk and throw it in the trash as has been instructed, yet law placed a firm hand on the crown of your head when you began to rise to your feet, forcing your knees to meet the ground.

you looked at him through your eyelashes, and his cock all but throbbed at the sight. “law—”

“why are you still with those jewels on? i told you to take it off,” he interrupted, tethering his glance to your cleavage. the lingerie set had not been altered — lacy, beige — one he had gifted to you. your hand went to the bracelet at your wrist, concentrated eyes glued to the piece. “who told you to stop looking at me?”

you shivered, careful when returning your gaze up to his face. the golden band fell onto the can, the round, diamond encrusted earrings following-in-suit. your fingers struggled with the clasp of the necklace, and law grunted with delight at the sight, aroused by your frustration. the star pendant fell into your cleavage, and had it been gifted by him, law would have commanded you to retrieve it with your teeth. but there mere thought of you doing it so in that instance had him seething.

“hurry up,” he barked, revolted with his own thoughts. you were swift — borderline desperate — in the act, throwing it out with a willingness that had him grunting in approval. “on your feet.”

despite having emerged to your full height, you shrunk under the pressure of his gaze, hugging your frame with uncertainty. law wanted to caress your cheek and spread your arms; scold you for depriving him of the sight of your breasts and abdomen, while comforting you on his desire altogether. yet, the scent lingered as though the remnant of a pest on one’s skin. law refused to give in to the urges to ravage you; to touch you as your gleaming eyes begged him to. but you would not leave without a lesson learned.

law teleported the pair of you to the bathroom, pointing towards the shower. “turn it on and stand underneath it.”

a cascade of water was bestowed upon you, soaking the fabric of your lingerie until it left nothing to the imagination. two minutes were required for it to heat up, yet law had no mercy whatsoever, forcing you to withstand the freezing liquid as he stood steps further, stripping himself without haste. vapor swirled around the room, covering inches of your flesh. your trembling stopped, and though law approached with his body bare, cock slapped against his stomach, you remained with the lingerie, for he hadn’t — and wouldn’t — order you to remove it. that had been his gift to you, and law would fuck you numb in it.

his tattooed hand closed around your neck, not quite squeezing it, yet. your head was angled as in a way to have your eyes glued to his own. “where were you touched?”

“waist,” you mumbled, ashamed. “sometimes he hugged my shoulders, too, but he’d rather have his hand on my waist.”

his pupils dilated, tempers rising. you gasped at the strength of his grip, wasting your reserve of air in a single act. law felt the wild pulse of your pressure point, crescent pace beating against the palm of his hand. underneath bone and flesh and muscle, caged amidst ribs, rested a heart whose surface that prince hadn’t touched, for that inch of you was his. every breath you took, every contraction of your heart, belonged to him. those wide, lust-coated eyes were his, as were the hardened nipples, trembling legs and awaiting lips.

law smashed his mouth against yours, more an act of violence than a kiss itself. his teeth dug into flesh, drawing blood from your lower lip, allowing it to drip down your chin. law hummed to himself at the sight, before he pushed you against the wall, ignoring the echo of your head meeting the ceramic. his canines were dragged on your shoulders, nose buried in. he hummed half-approvingly, for the water had expelled the most prominent aspects of the insufferable perfume — not nearly enough. law bit on every inch of your shoulder, steel grip unmoving on your throat, with not a care for your lack of air in your lungs. if you fell unconscious, the shower and his cock would eventually bring you back.

crystalline water merged with specks of dripping blood, soothing tongue licking your fresh wounds. law pressed himself against you, rolling his hips in order to be granted an ounce of friction. your eyes were rolled, maimed waist bearing the marks of his fingers. the grip on your neck loosened, for you could neither moan nor beg without proper breathing.

the white of his smile was tainted crimson when he smirked at you, digging his nails into your waist. “were you enjoying his attention? the festival had beautiful fireworks, wouldn’t you agree?”

his taunts fell on deaf ears. your eyes were filled with tears that dared not fall, your voice rough. the golden collar wrapped around your throat had been replaced by the mark of his fingers.

“i don’t know,” you croaked out, hissing ever-so-slightly at the wound left on your lower lip. “i was staring at you the whole time.”

his anger faltered ever-so-slightly, cock twitching at the confession. for an instance, the bathroom was filled with nothing but the steady sound of the shower and your shallow breathing. until law pressed his mouth against yours with enough strength to have your head hitting the wall behind yet again, clashing teeth; tongue forcing itself inside. he swallowed your mewl, grunting as his shaft pressed itself against you; rutting hips, dragging the tip around the slick flesh.

“law, please,” you begged, choking on your words. sadistic bastard of considerable strength. he stole the air off your lungs, yet demanded you to speak. words but a meek plea, strained and pathetic. “fuck me, please.”

“who do you belong to?” he demanded, teasing your entrance with his leaking tip.

“you,” he dug his teeth into your shoulders, squeezing your neck. his eyes spoke when words failed him; narrowed slits demanding for more. “i’m yours, yours!”

he grunted, shoving his cock inside. law increased the pressure on your neck, muffled moans sending vibrations through your skin as he slid in — base to the tip; balls slapping your ass. his tip assaulted your g-spot, hardened nipples sliding onto his chest. the angle itself was odd; challenging. your back slipped, and your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, offering him a better angle and chance to support your weight. you let out a strangled, desperate moan when his tip forced itself deeper, a ruthless pace that gave neither of you enough time to form a coherent thought.

law retreated from your shoulder in order to catch a glimpse of your face. water had united some of your eyelashes; your lips were swollen where he bit it; your eyes were facing a losing battle against consciousness. he had never seen a prettier sight.

your legs trembled, muted sounds pointing out to the approach of your bliss. law threw his head back to witness it in its full glory, snapping his hips with particular strength, holding a moan at the sensation of your walls — tightening; caging him. when you came, spurs of white smeared the pool of water underneath, law picked up his pace, torturing your abused cunt as he selfishly seeked out his own bliss.

law was a doctor. he did not fall into the spectrum of irresponsible individuals who thought themselves acquitted to the effects of unprotected sex. he had a fair stash of condoms well-hidden and set for usage, and if he ever were to run out of it, either your stomach, tits or face were chosen to be smeared with his cum. however, after the previous demonstration of desire from another, law grew territorial. his cock was yet sheltered within your walls when he reached his high, smearing your insides with his essence and grunting in the process of it all — knowing that you were his; that it was your tight, demanding cunt who milked him dry. his hand raised from your throat to caress your cheeks with an affection at odds with his past behavior.

you were soaked; exhausted. with his load lodged inside, traces of his teeth on your maimed shoulder. you would be sore in the morning, and the collar of his fingers would linger for at least a week. not the bride of a prince — rather the treasure of a pirate.

— 🐈‍⬛ : i should NOT be allowed to write this man. happy kinktober friday!

[tasteracha]

professor bang

word count: 2.3k

warnings: unprotected sex, power imbalance (grad student x professor), multiple orgasms, chan calling the reader pet/good girl

synopsis: you laid out a perfectly crafted trap to seduce the hot professor - too bad he’s one step ahead of you.

the midday air is unsuspecting as you walk down the creaky hallway, floorboards of the psychology building groaning under your feet. the nerves are close to eating you up whole but you continue walking, too far into your plan to turn back now - you know what you want, and you’re going to get it. no one turns an eye as you walk past open doors, the hem of your dress swishing around your knees. they’re accustomed to seeing you here, being a graduate student in the department means you spend more time here than you do in your own apartment. 

you stop at one door in a series of identical ones, only told apart by a worn out plaque listing a room number and a shinier, newer one reading “christopher bang, ph.d.” underneath it.

the door is cracked just a bit, enough for you to peer inside and there he is, standing in front of his desk, wearing a crisp white shirt under a grayish-blue blazer. his pants are too tight to be suitable for a professor, and they cling to his thighs and stretch across his ass perfectly, making you pause in the doorway with a hungry stare that lasts for too many seconds. 

when you look up you meet his eyes and it makes you jump; you didn’t know that he knew you were there. this doesn’t fit in the plan.

the plan you cooked up when he got a little too cozy with you during the department holiday party last semester. the plan you’ve been making and scrapping and working yourself up to execute, avoiding him at every corner so that he wouldn’t know. you were supposed to surprise him, walk in pretending like you needed help with some assignment, getting closer and closer to him until your breaths were intermingling and then you’d look into his eyes and he would glance at your lips and-

and now he’s caught you checking him out like some kind of creep. 

“oh, hi y/n,” he says, eyes turning crinkly as he looks at you with a shit-eating grin. fuck.  

now that you’ve been found out, you slide inside the gap in the door, shutting it closed behind you and letting the lock click behind your back. if he notices, he doesn’t react, steady eyes trained on you as your feet take you closer and closer to his desk.

“hi professor bang,” you say, surprised by how clear your voice comes out. that’s good, you wouldn’t want him to know how nervous you are just yet, it would add to his smugness and you didn’t know if you could handle his ego being even bigger than it is right now. 

“what can i do for you?” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the desk. the blazer stretches over his shoulders and the material does nothing to hide his biceps and your mouth waters. he quirks an eyebrow at you when you don’t speak for a moment, and you have to clear your throat before any sound comes out.

“i needed some help with a research project,” you say, moving close enough to him that if anyone were to walk in they would absolutely report the both of you for some kind of ethical violation. good thing you locked the door, then. “i was hoping you could be of service.”

“oh?” he leans further back into the desk, fully relaxed in a way you wish you were. “what kind of project?”

“well, it has to do with human connection,” you trail a finger across the collar of his blazer, further down until it catches on a button, in a show of false confidence. “i was looking to maybe get some hands-on experience? for research, of course.”

you feel a swell of victory when his breath catches in his throat and his arms loosen from where they were crossed to drop at his side. 

“well i certainly am the expert in that domain,” he drawls, eyes flickering down to your lips and back up. “i did write my dissertation on it, after all.”

it’s a lie - you’ve read his dissertation, full of information about cognitive theory and eye movements and other things that honestly went way over your head. not a single mention of human connection was in that document, but the fact that he’s so readily playing along with you means that you didn’t misread anything. either he wants you, or he enjoys toying with you; either way, you were on board.

even more so when he takes his blazer off, throwing it off to the side like it didn’t cost him an aggressive amount of money to buy. you’ve seen the designer labels on him plenty of times enough to know he likes to treat himself to nice things. 

you’re hoping you can be his next nice thing, the next possession that he flaunts and parades around. 

you lean in for a kiss, but he surprises you and flips the both of you around until you’re backed up into the desk. he’s leaning over you, dark eyes looking down at you like you’re his prey. 

“let’s even the playing field a bit, shall we?” his voice has gone down, low and sultry, and you feel your head loll back from how it makes you feel. he makes quick work of removing your dress, letting the material pool to the floor so he could focus on your bra. it’s your favorite one, lacey and red and sexy, the material leaving nothing to the imagination. he takes a second to admire it, fingering at the strap around your shoulder and sliding his thumb into the cup before he reaches behind you and unhooks it in one try. it joins his blazer and your dress on the floor a moment later, and you’re left feeling exposed in front of him. 

“how is this even?” you ask, resisting the urge to cover yourself with your hands. “you’re still wearing all of your clothes.”

“well, sweetheart,” he starts, moving impossibly closer to you. “we’re in my office. that means i get to decide the rules, no?”

he swipes an arm across the table behind you before you can answer. papers flutter in the air, and he’s hiking you up onto the desk before they reach the ground. his hands are under your thighs, spreading them apart so he can fit between them. one of his hands snakes into the band of your underwear, your sensitive skin erupting in goosebumps from his touch.

“so wet,” he says, a smirk painting his face as his fingers part your folds to make slow circles around your clit. it shouldn’t be enough to send shivers up your spine, but it’s him, so it does.

“for you,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes. the amused glint in his eyes turns sharp, dark and possessive. just what you wanted. 

“this is mine?” he asks, cupping you in his hand while his other reaches around the small of your back to hold you close to him.

“yours,” you hum, nodding even though his attention certainly wasn’t on your head.

he dips his fingers inside of you, gliding easily inside from how his fingers are coated with your juices. when he crooks his fingers and thumbs at your clit your head tips back, and you might have lost your balance if he wasn’t holding you so close that you could feel his breath on your skin. 

it’s on your third time stumbling over the word professor that he leans into your ear and tells you to call him chris, his lips kissing your ear as he works you to your high. you’re shaking apart on his desk and yet he doesn’t relent, he continues to move his fingers with fervor until you can’t help but push at his chest to get him to stop. 

“chris,” you stutter out when he latches his lips to your neck, open mouthed and hot as his fingers move to grab at your thighs. his hands are so big, veins bulging as he digs his fingers in. you hope there are bruises there, tomorrow. and the next day. 

“gonna fuck you now, okay?” he says, voice husky. “for research.”

“yeah, research,” you breath out, using both your hands to cradle his face so that you could kiss him, finally. his lips are as soft as you imagined, plushy pillows that you could find yourself lost in for hours. he keeps his lips on yours as he moves your underwear down and off, helping you balance so he could slide it under your thighs until you’re bare in front of him. you’re unbuttoning his shirt with shaky fingers, and he chuckles against you when you can’t get one of them open.

“funny?” you break away from him, eyes trained on the way his lips are red and slick with spit. 

“you’re cute,” condescension lines his voice and a spark of anger runs through you at how he knows he has the upper hand. he gently takes your hands away from his clothes and makes quick work of them himself. in what feels like a split second, he’s stripped of his shirt and pants and he’s pulling down his boxers, revealing smooth planes of muscle and strong thighs and bulging arms that you’ve fantasized about for months. you don’t know if you want to cover them in bites or let him crush you with them more - there will be time for that, the next time. 

you know there’s going to be a next time if it’s already this good and he’s barely even done anything to you yet. 

he spreads your thighs apart further, and you don’t miss how he licks his lips at the view of your dripping cunt in front of him before he lines himself up at your entrance. you barely got a glimpse of his cock, but your mouth waters at the idea of it being inside of you. he glides his cock through your folds a few time, slicking himself up before pressing his head inside of you. 

when he bottoms out you can’t help but tighten your walls around him, helpless to the desires of your own body, and the groan he lets out makes you clench down even harder. 

“relax, pet,” he says, panting a bit. his thumb strokes at the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. “i’m going to take good care of you okay? but you need to relax for me.”

he leans down to kiss you again, and it must be a good enough distraction because he begins moving in time with the swipes of his tongue on your teeth. every time he rocks into you the air punches out of your lungs, you’re so full. he moves his face to the crook of your neck to hide his own labored breaths when he increases his pace, thrusting into you faster than you can keep up with. 

he’s pressing you into the desk with each movement of his hips, the sharp corner against your legs sending pricks of pain up to your head. the game is over, the research bit is done, now it’s just chris taking what he wants from you. you love it. his arms wrap around you, keeping you upright, and you latch onto him like a lifeline. you’re completely at his mercy, entirely submissive to the way he’s keeping you still so he can use you. 

you can tell he’s close when he pushes his head even further into your skin, fingers gripping your back and his movements becoming sharp and purposeful. he spills into you a second later with a bite to your neck, and you can’t help yourself from following him as your head tips back in pleasure. 

when he pulls out you wince, the emptiness that he’s left you with feeling worse than you’ve ever felt with anyone else. he lowers you onto the desk slowly, letting your head rest on his mousepad as he runs his hands up and down your sides in comforting sweeps. you’re utterly spent, two orgasms hitting your limit, even more intense coming from him. 

“one more,” he drawls out, not showing compassion at all for the way you’re panting and drooling onto his desk. “you can do one more for me, can’t you?”

“no, no, no,” your voice comes out thready and light, barely a sound. his hand returns to your core either way, slow circles of his fingers around your clit making your body twitch with each pass. the oversensitivity is too much, but you’re too weak to pull away from him. you don’t even know if you want to, anymore. 

“there’s my good girl,” he grins when you whine and rut down onto his hand. you didn’t know it was possible, but the coils in your lower belly start to tighten faster than before. you’re coming before you even realize it’s happening, pleasure seeping from your core to your fingertips, an all encompassing sensation that you can’t put words to. it lasts for what feels like forever, waves and waves of ecstasy rocking through your body until your vision blacks out for a moment. 

“you did so good,” he finally stops and you press your legs together to stop him from returning. he’s pressing kisses to your body, your thighs and your stomach up to your neck and cheeks as he mumbles praises into your skin. his hand runs through your hair, pushing the sweaty locks that were stuck to your forehead out of the way so he could press a final, sweet kiss to your forehead. “so good for me. so pretty, my precious pet.”

and even as he takes care of you, cleans you up and helps you back into your clothes and feeds you water, you’re holding back a smirk. because he thinks he has the upper hand, he thinks he won, but you can guarantee that he’ll be knocking at your door before the week is over.

[thought--bubble]

To Punish My Darling

Canon Aemond (Dark) X (Maid Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 3,375

Canon Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

Based off THIS request

Warnings: Child labor, Arranged Marriage, Execution, Dub-con, Smut. (Oral male receiving)

"It is a privilege to work at the red keep" Your mother had said to you as she fixed a bonnet on your head.

At the age of 10 you did not see it this way but alas you were the oldest of your siblings and your parents did not have much money, it was your turn to start helping the family, so you would join your mother in being a chambermaid at the red keep.

"I have been working up there for years and haven't had any trouble. You will simply take your work and keep your head down." This is how you came to work at the red keep. Your first assignment had been collecting the washing.

At the age of ten you were not trusted to do much else other than scuttle about the castle collecting clothes for washing and then once washed bringing them back to their rightful owner. This was an easy job and the first few days you completed the task without so much as a hiccup. But today, your third day, you were to pick up the washing of the Prince Aemond Targaryen.

The problem? He had recently received a grievous injury, which left him recovering in his chambers.

"He will be in there; you will need to knock and await a clear order to enter. is that understood?" The head maid Alandra had warned you. You nodded your head furiously in understanding and skipped through the corridors making your way to his chambers. When you arrived you simply rapped upon the door as you had done with all the others putting your ear to the door to await a response.

"Enter!" You hear a voice muffled, from the door and distance. You open the door and enter the chamber looking for the basket for washing.

" I said do not enter!" The angry voice of a young boy came hurtling at you as you freeze in terror. You avert your eyes "M-m-my Prince my apologies, I thought I- I- I heard-" He cuts you off abruptly "Thought what? that you could just enter my chambers when I advised you not to! Come to see, did you? Come to see the horror?" As he says this, he keeps his head turned from you.

"N-no I am here to pick up the washing! I swear!" Your entire body shakes, you have clearly made a grave mistake and upset a Targaryen Prince and even at this youthful age you understand the repercussions that could result from an incident like this.

"Take it and go" he says quietly, still turned away from you. "Do not come back in here.” You bow your head quickly grabbing the basket of laundry and run from his chambers. You quickly drop the laundry off to the woman doing the washing and run to find your mother.

Your mother, most distressed to hear this news, tells Alandra who simply states that all they can do at this point is wait to see if anything comes of it.

3 more days pass and you continue your work waiting for the hammer to fall but it never comes. After a month or two you had all but forgotten the incident, the only lingering reminder being your refusal to return to the chambers of Prince Aemond.

That is until he is released from his recovery, eyepatch firmly in place. Now it is much more difficult to avoid him, this becomes especially apparent when you accidentally stumble onto his hidden reading spot which happens to also be the place you like to eat your midday meal.

"Oh, my apologies my Prince" You bow your head and back up desperate to get out of there as quickly as possible. "What's that?" He gestures toward the oranges in your hand.

"O-oranges my Prince" You back up one more step itching to remove yourself from his presence. "Give me one" he holds his hand out to you; you timidly step forward until you are just close enough to place the oranges in his outstretched hand.

"I said one" He leaves his hand outstretched waiting for you to remove one of the oranges. With a quivering hand you reach down and lift one of the oranges. Once you have it you grip it tightly and take a step back preparing to drop into a curtsy. "Stay" he doesn't lift his head when he makes this command, he simply starts to peel his orange.

You stand rooted in place.

"Well sit. I Cannot have you standing over me like some sort of ogre" he gestures to the empty space to his left. You quietly and slowly lower yourself to the ground and the two of you quietly eat your oranges not exchanging a word.

This one chance meeting develops into a regular meeting tucked away in the back of the garden. The silent meetings change over time into brief conversations which further change into much longer and much deeper conversations.

Before you even understood how impossible this situation is you had become besotted with the prince. You found yourself rushing to your meeting spot and laughing with him until your sides hurt.

Your feelings only got stronger as you saw him grow from a boy to a man. lithe, assertive face and lone purple eye that you still see every night when you lay down to sleep.

The little fantasy you had built up in your head all comes crashing down when your mother announces the son of the local butcher has expressed interest in you.

"I am not interested in him!" You scream. "My heart belongs to another!"

"Do you think I am a fool?" Your mother seethes. "Do you think I do not see the doe eyes you make toward the prince?" You look up at your mother, eyes welling with tears.

"I ... I love him mother." Your mother runs her hands down her face. "He is a Prince of the realm! You are but a maid!" she pulls you in for a hug "Darling it is impossible. You are so bright, my pride, you have to know this."

You cry into your mother's shoulder. You know it is impossible. You have known this all along, but you were happy being able to pretend that maybe, just maybe you could have what your heart most desired.

You lament the thought of marrying another and putting that fantasy to rest. Ending that dream in its entirety.

"He will be a butcher. That is a comfortable life for you. I cannot imagine we could find a better match" She strokes your cheeks fondly. "All I wish for you, my beauty, is a life easier than mine, and with this match, you will get that" her eyes convey a silent plea as she looks at you.

"I understand mother. This is a smart match." You nod your head as you fight back your tears. As much as this hurts, you know she is right. Life as a butcher's wife would be one of moderate comfort, while the life of a Princess would never be yours to have.

Over the coming weeks you are introduced to the young man your parents have decided to be your husband. Alden is a nice boy. He is decent looking and overly sweet. You were pleased to see that he wasn't quite as plump as his mother or have as little hair as his father.

You move about your daily duties in the castle the way you always have. You have not told Aemond of the match set for you by your parents. You knew he would not care but, you had a lingering feeling of discomfort over breaching the topic with him. You did, however, want to tell him before you were wed. Your husband-to-be had decided that he did not want his wife to be a maid at the castle. You would work in the butcher shop like the rest of his family. So, with a heavy heart just two days before your planned marriage you sit down in the garden next to Aemond, two oranges in hand.

He lifts his head from his book. "You're late. I was thinking I may have to go fetch my own orange today. "

"My apologies, I have a few tasks I have been training some of the new girls on" You squeeze your orange in the palm of your hand digging your nails into the course skin.

He raises an eyebrow. "I don't want a different chamber maid; you do things just as I like."

"As will they, I will make sure of it. My.... My time working here has ended. I am to join my husband’s family at their shop in town"

You avoid his gaze as you speak just watching the orange in your hand as you squeeze it tighter and tighter your fingernails buried in the outer layer.

"I did not know that you had been wed." He closes the book he was reading placing it in his lap.

"Look at me" he nearly barks.

The tone shocks you out of your daze "I-I-I-I am not, not yet. I am to be wed in two days."

The playful look he had worn when you arrived has vanished and been replaced with a steely cold look. "To whom?" his voice is quiet but controlled.

You look at him with a dumfounded expression. You were not expecting a reaction like this from him. You really did not expect a reaction at all, let alone one so passionate.

"I asked you a question, I expect that you answer it." His one eye is locked on you, and he taps his finger against the cover of his book.

"Alden. He is the son of the local butcher" You look down at the ground and lower your voice "It is a smart match."

"Hmmmm.... Seems so"

The rest of your midday meeting passed in silence, Aemond's jaw clenched his orange resting upon his book.

Eventually, you bid him farewell and continued with the training of your replacement maids before heading home for the night.

You wake up the next morning preparing for your last day working in the red keep. You will be married the next day, and your new life will start. Your meetings with Aemond, will be just memories of a young girl. Plenty of fodder for dreams and nothing more.

Leaving your home, which normally was no special affair, led you directly into a scene of chaos. People all around you chattering about the execution of a thief, a thief who dared to steal from the icy cold Prince Aemond.

A general sense of dread fills your body as you follow the large crowd into the courtyard. Aemond and a few of the guards stood around a man on his knees his head down.

"Stealing from the crown is an offence punishable by death" Aemond states loudly his voice quieting the crowd. He twirls a large sapphire between his fingers.

"You have stolen something very precious to me."

"M-m-my Prince, I do not know how that came into my home!" The man you now recognize as Alden pleads.

You gasp covering your mouth. Why would Alden steal from the prince? He is hardly at the keep. Only ever there to help his father deliver meats, when would he have had time to steal from Aemond?

"It was found not only in your home but on your person" Aemond's voice is loud, crisp, clear, and cold as ice.

Your mother walks up beside you and takes your hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. You look over at her bewildered and frightened, but her gaze is set toward the horrifying display before you.

"Let this be a lesson to all" His one cold eye scans the crowd until it lands on your mother.

"For those who wish to steal from me.... this is the fate that awaits you" his eye stays locked on your mother as the executioner behind him raises an axe over a quivering and crying Alden. Your stomach is cold, as if full of ice as you look at the man you thought was your friend. His eye set on your mother making sure she understands his silent threat.

You hear the sound of the axe come down and quickly lower your head, focusing your thoughts instead on your mothers’ shoes. Her feet are so dainty.

The crowd starts to disperse, and your mother tugs your hand bringing you toward the keep.

"No! I am not going in there!" You try to yank your hand away from your mother, but she pulls it back to her quickly.

"There is no choice in this, I think that much is clear" She snaps at you keeping her voice low. "We go back to work and continue on."

You nod your head; words do not come to you, but you continue with a kind of mechanical movement. One foot in front of the other. You complete your tasks in much the same way. The only deviation being that you decided to skip your midday meal.

Only 2 hours after your usual meeting time you were summoned to Aemond's chambers. He never summons you. He always knew when to expect you to turn over his linens, collect his clothing for washing. He never needed to summon you.

You approach his door as if you are the one being led to the axe. It could not be a coincidence that yesterday you told Aemond you were to marry Alden and today Alden is publicly executed.... could it?

You lightly knock on his door and await his usual call for you to enter; instead, the door flies open. You flinch back slightly at the sudden movement looking off to the side.

"Come in" He stands to the side giving you space to enter.

"You requested my presence my Prince?" you try to keep your voice low, and eyes angled so you are looking just behind him, hoping beyond all hope that he cannot see how absolutely terrified you are.

"Look at me" he stands directly before you, so close you can feel the heat springing from his body. You slowly raise your head and look up at him through your lashes.

"You are to stay working here, at the red keep as my personal chamber maid."

"Yes, my Prince" You slightly nod your head.

"You missed midday meal, I waited for an orange that never came" he places his hands behind his back and leans forward ever closer, bridging the already miniscule gap that lay between you.

"I found myself without an appetite."

"That may be so, but I was famished...." he clicks his tongue. "Still am"

He grabs you by your chin tightly. "You could not have possibly thought I would have let him have you" He growls up against the side of your face. "There are many things that I deserve that are given to others, but I would not lose my darling to a butcher" his voice is filled with disgust.

"This is not possible, you can not marry me I am a maid!" you look at him eyes pleading as he starts to chuckle.

"I know that, I do not plan to marry you."

You look at him questioningly "Then what-"

" I plan to keep you as my own." he lightly traces his finger down your cheek.

your face falls.

"Now, it brings me no pleasure to punish my darling, but you have left me no choice" He moves in close dragging his nose along the side of your face inhaling your scent. "You will be an obedient servant for me? Won't you?"

"Yes, my prince" an unfamiliar feeling of fear mixed with anticipation creeps up your spine as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer to him.

"Now.... I will give you a set of instructions and you will follow each one with immediacy and accuracy." as you go to respond he interrupts "Do not speak unless I ask you to". You nod just to let him know you understood his instruction.

"Good.... now remove everything" You look at him your face conveying a look of confusion.

"Everything that you are wearing" He tilts his head to the side, again putting his arms behind his back, a small smirk on his face.

You slowly start to unlace your dress, hands nervously shaking.

"Quickly now. I have somewhere to be." You take a deep breath in and just as before your movements become mechanical. Taking your clothes off as you would at home before washing. As you pull each piece of clothing off you fold it and place it in a pile by your feet. Once you are fully undressed you look back to Aemond awaiting his next order.

He walks up close to you. "Now me"

Your trembling fingers slowly start to unclasp the buckles on his doublet. He chuckles and clicks his tongue "Quickly".

Your fingers move along his buckles and laces like a musician playing an instrument, quick and precise. Once he is as bare as you are, nothing left on but his eye patch. He motions you over to the bed, as you move to get on it his voice echoes through the room.

"No" he stops you and pulls you back toward the edge of the bed.

"Kneel here" you get down on your knees facing the edge of the frame as he sits before you.

"As I told you, I have someplace to be" He wraps his hand around your chin, pulling your bottom lip down with his thumb. "My pretty little darling" He starts to pump himself to full hardness, while gripping your chin tighter, the nail of his thumb digging into the sensitive skin of your lip.

He hits your chin with the hardened tip of his cock and chuckles.

"You look even prettier like this." He slides the tip of his cock against your plush lips.

"open", you open your mouth looking up at him through your lashes. "That's good" he slides the tip into your mouth as you settle yourself down between his legs. He grabs the braid tied up on the back of your head and grips it tight slowly lowering your head. As he pushes you further and further down his shaft you start to sputter

"Shhhhh darling" He coos gently as he strokes the side of your face. He holds your head in place as you get used to the sensation, breathing through your nose.

He continues to push your head down until your nose is buried in his groin and you are gagging, tears flowing from your eyes, drool dripping from the sides of your mouth. He sighs and chuckles, before grabbing your braid and holding your head in place as he pulls you slightly back. You struggle to take in a gulp of air before he is back inside your mouth, his hips thrusting feverishly as he uses your mouth as if it were not attached to an actual human.

The sounds of his sighs and pants, along with your gagging and slurping fill the room as the heat and tingling between your thighs grows almost unbearable. He stands from the bed still gripping your hair tightly shoving his cock further into your mouth battering the back of your throat as he increases his pace.

You attempt to look up at him, but your eyes can only see the blurry shape of the man above you.

Just as your head begins to feel light, like you could just float away, he stiffens in your mouth and presses himself all the way to the back of your throat and holds you there. You fight the urge to pull away as you feel him empty himself directly down your throat as he lets out a choked groan.

When he finally pulls himself out of your mouth and walks back toward his clothes you sit back on your feet, wiping the tears from your eyes and gasping for air.

"Turns out I lied" he says coolly.

You look over at him still panting heavily, face red, chin covered in drool.

"I did find pleasure in that."

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@targaryen-dynasty

[nakahras]

᯽ my love (mine all mine) • chuuya nakahara

synopsis • domesticity with chuuya

warning • intentional lower case, fem!reader, tooth rotting fluff

wc • 1.1k

a/n • a little something something for you guys bc i needed some soft chuuya after the week i’ve had

it’s hot — far too hot, as a matter of fact, for the air conditioned room you fell asleep in. you didn’t mean to fall asleep. truth is, you were supposed to be waiting for your boyfriend, who was coming back from a mission today — one that lasted almost 3 agonizingly long weeks. but how the hell were you supposed to stay awake when he asked you to wait for him at his luxurious apartment… okay so maybe you didn’t have to lay in his bed to wait for him but you were so exhausted and his bed is like laying on a cloud.

absolutely no one could blame you for taking advantage of that opportunity, not even chuuya.

you’re becoming more lucid as the grogginess starts to dissipate and you notice a distinct weight on your chest when you go to move the covers off of you to get some relief from the heat. you begrudgingly open your eyes to find a mess of orange hair tickling at your neck. you can’t help the fond smile that settles onto your lips and the amused puff of air that escapes through your nose. your hand is already settling into the ginger's hair, gently stroking through the soft waves. 

you wonder, distantly, what time he got home and how you didn’t notice his presence until now.

his cheek is squished on your chest, mouth open ajar, drooling slightly. you don’t even have the heart to be annoyed by the wet spot on your (read: his) t-shirt because of how peaceful he looks. his face is void of any of the usual rigidness and worry he wears when he’s awake, thanks to his position as a port mafia executive. he deserves this break and the rest, god knows he’s earned every second of this and who are you to deny him of it?

you look around, trying to gain a sense of what time it is but thanks to chuuya evidently shutting his black out curtains, it’s impossible to tell midday from midnight right now. one thing you can tell is that it’s hot. chuuya has always been like a personal heater, body temperature running abnormally high, something about his body being a host for the god of calamity — apparently that tends to alter the average body. it comes in handy when it’s winter and freezing but during the summer it’s suffocating almost. 

you need to escape, your bladder has very unfortunate timing, not only are you uncomfortable from sweating but your bladder is screaming at you to empty it. 

the soft snores escaping chuuya’s lips tell you he’s in a deep enough sleep that you may be able to peel him off of you without disturbing his much needed rest. you gently and carefully unravel his arm from your torso. as you go to place his arm at his side, his face scrunches in protest and he groans. your breath hitches and you instinctively hold it in, body going rigid as you try not to disturb him any further. luckily you don’t have to do much else in ways of moving the executive because his groan is followed by a louder snore and him rolling over to his other side, facing away from you and curling in on himself.

you let out a breath of relief and cautiously roll out of bed. you don’t even bother putting any pants on, you scurry out of the room to find the nearest bathroom that won’t disturb your sleeping beauty. 

when you finish up, you don’t make your way back to the bed that’s still calling your name. instead, you pad out to the kitchen to find the sun slowly descending into the horizon, sunset a mere few minutes away. the sky is already drowning in a deep orange, the warmth of the glow inviting. you ignore the visceral need to stand at the glass floor to ceiling windows and watch the sunset to make yourself a cup of tea first. it takes you no time at all to brew up a cup for yourself.

you turn on some soft music and return to the windows just in time to watch the setting sun paint the sky various hues of purple and pink. you let your eyes droop, happy to just feel the warmth.

your thoughts are halted when a pair of arms sneak around your waist and a chin is propped on your shoulder. 

“abandoned me and didn’t even wake m’up ta say it ta m’face?” his speech is slurred from grogginess and a smile creeps up onto your face at the thought of him immediately seeking you out after waking up. 

you turn your head to find his face scrunched up into a pout, you let out an amused chuckle and place a soft kiss to his temple. you’re met with an accusatory glare.

“‘n’ now you’re tryna butter m’up.” his frown deepens and eyebrows crease closer together. 

you let out a snort. “of course i wasn’t gonna wake you up. i’m quite certain you needed the rest.”

you begin to sway to the music absentmindedly and chuuya follows in step and sways along with you. it’s soothing, finally being held in his arms after so long, the level intimacy of dancing with him like this and watching the sunset is something you find yourself craving all the time when you’re with chuuya. it was jarring at first, being someone who usually struggles with that type of intimacy, but it’s become second nature with him.

you hum contentedly, a smile still playing at your lips. “woke up just in time to watch the sunset with me, though.”

you miss the weight of his chin on your shoulder the moment he removes it but you don’t have much time to think about it. your expression twists into one of confusion when the ginger takes your now empty mug from your hands and places it on a nearby side table. you open your mouth to question him but, once again, you don’t get the chance as he twirls you around to face him. 

chuuya takes one of your hands and places it on his shoulder while he takes hold of the other. his free hand rests on your hip and he begins to sway the two of you into a more involved dance. you make a confused noise in the back of your throat but the executive is talking before you can.

“don’t, please- just… let me have this for a bit. missed you…”

you smile again and rest your head on his chest. “i missed you too, sunshine.”

[centrally-unplanned]

This article about Hamas's strategic planning in the lead up to the October assault was at least a partial mind-changer for me. So far I had been viewing Hamas as executing a "bait" attack on Israel for international & domestic political reasons. Kill enough Israelis, and in particular take some hostages, to force Israel to invade Gaza; which you want because that will re-inflame radicalism, tank Israel's growing coziness with Arab states like the Gulf Monarchies, and keep the Palestine Question front-and-center on people's agendas.

What it was not about was achieving any sense of a military victory; Hamas did not think they would be able to defeat the IDF on the field, or even truly hold them back. They thought they would do better than they have in defending Gaza, to be honest, but the goal wasn't to "win" in that way or anything. The actions of Israel, in their inflamed bloodlust, would be the fulcrum of progress for Hamas. It was the most logical interpretation of their strategy, because tbh its working, Israel's strategy void has bungled this war at every level. Of course if it is "worth it" is a completely separate question - Hamas is playing a game from deep, deep in the red, if you aren't going to fold and pack it up from that position these are the hail mary plays you make.

This article, a long (and sometimes overly windy) interview with two career members of the Palestinian governing orgs (primarily Fatah), shines a very different light on that. They outline that over the past ~decade, Hamas leader Yahya Sinwar coalesced power around his own faction of highly fundamentalist adherents that convinced itself that divine favor was shining on them and they would be able to actually defeat Israel in the field. The most compelling evidence for this is a conference they held planning the post-conquest occupation of Israel:

So detailed were the plans that participants in the conference began to draw up list of all the properties in Israel and appointed representatives to deal with the assets that would be seized by Hamas. "We have a registry of the numbers of Israeli apartments and institutions, educational institutions and schools, gas stations, power stations and sewage systems, and we have no choice but to get ready to manage them," Obeid told the conference.

They even called people up to ask if they would take the job of governor of this-of-that province! This was not a bored-Friday white paper by any means. They discussed defensive plans and counter-offensives like that was on the table. Sinwar outlined conquest as the goal.

If we accept this premise, it naturally lends itself to the question "okay how did they get the rest of Hamas to go along with this?" Because Hamas is not all These Kinds of People, its a governing state that does politics on the international stage after all. One of the reasons I leaned towards my interpretation was that, for the past ~decade, Hamas has actually been doing a glam-up rebranding of the org to make it more moderate & respectable in international eyes. The 2017 Charter Revision is the biggest example, which included say disavowing the idea that this was a religious war (distinguishing between zionism & judaism), and loosely admitting to the idea that they could recognize Israel as a country if terms were met. Actions like these show actors who are pretty level-headed. Were they inauthentic? Did they change their mind?

Maybe a bit, but its more than they aren't the same people. Right alongside the build-up to the October attack was a purging & sidelining of whole swaths of Hamas leadership. Many were not even informed of the attack - though they knew something was coming. Apparently it leaked on October 2nd, and a bunch of leaders just immediately fled the Strip for safety. This one is the most amusing:

Haniyeh's eldest son took a similar course of action. Around midday on October 2, Abed Haniyeh chaired a meeting of the Palestinian sports committee, which is headed by the minister of sports, Jibril Rajoub. Suddenly he received a phone call, left the room for a few minutes and then returned, pale and confused. He immediately informed the committee – whose members were in a Zoom conference with counterparts in the West Bank – that he had to leave for the Rafah crossing straightaway, as he had just learned that his wife had to undergo fertility treatment in the United Arab Emirates. (He was lying.) He granted full power of attorney to his deputy and left the Gaza Strip hurriedly.

That is one way to duck out of a pointless meeting, take notes people!

So instead of my hail mary politics play, what you have is a story of an institutional coup by a radical faction - which for extremist resistance groups is an ever-present threat. None of this means the "bait" strategy part is wrong of course, that was definitely still the point - but this argument here claims that goal of the bait was to bring the IDF into Gaza where it could be defeated in the field with their extensive fortifications, and then presumably inspire others like Hezbollah to jump on the moment of weakness and besiege Israel proper.

So....is this true? There are two gigantic caveats on this article: the first is that the people being interviewed do not primarily work for Hamas - they are members of Fatah, the leading faction of the PLO. They hate Hamas, they are not Hamas leaders themselves, they have every incentive to paint Hamas as irredeemable. You really can't take this story simply at their word. But they aren't outsiders - they hate Hamas but they work with them constantly, that is how it works, people rotate around in the Palestine orgs. They have met personally and worked with dozens of Hamas leaders; one of them was even called to be offered one of those post-war occupation governorships! (He said no lol) So its a big red flag but not a damning one. And things like the fleeing leaders, the conference on the occupation, those all 100% happened. They released press on it, they weren't hiding it.

The second caveat is that its just really not uncommon for large organizations, particularly extremist ones, to engage in mainly performative actions at scale. The South Korean government still maintains a department that plans for the administration of North Korea for example! Not totally useless ofc, but it writes exactly the reports you think it does that get put in a bin and never touched. Sometimes its appeasing internal factions, sometimes its PR, sometimes its just institutional inertia. Its absolutely believable that Hamas would make a big plan for how they would conquer Israel because otherwise...what do you tell the commanders, exactly? Why are they fighting again? A significant percentage of the lower-level fighters need that belief, so you give it to them. While certainly there is a fundamentalist faction in Hamas, are they ones winning? Or are they just another faction being played against?

I don't see enough evidence to say, but there is enough to make me pause. I'm not sold on it in the end, that is my final conclusion. I think more brains than Sinwar were involved in this and they had more realistic aspirations. And yet the level of commitment and disorganization does suggest that at least some of what was pushing events forward was a group immune to doubts being at the wheel. Certainly interested in researching more.

[kana-daydreams]

hide 'n seek || sanemi | fluff | 1.1k

°*:･ᰔafter a few days of meticulous planning, you and zenitsu finally grasp the opportunity to execute your long-awaited plan—to escape the clutches of sanemi’s rigorous, soul-sucking training—or so you thought.

tags: demon slayer!f!reader. 18+ reader . established relationship. minor spoilers (hashira training arc—anime)

kny masterlist

In the hush of the serene midday that envelops the Wind Hashira's estate, a sudden sharp shriek pierces through. And the few birds perch on a nearby wall that had been basking in the accompanied comforting respite, scatter away at its ear-shattering volume.

“For the second time, where is she?” demands a male voice, deep and menacing like its owner’s fear-inducing wide eyes.

Then, as if on cue, crouched low and barely concealed behind that very wall, you sneak a cautious glance at the three familiar figures gathered a few paces ahead of you.

One of those figures being Sanemi’s whose purple eyes glower down at the quivering frame of Zenitsu huddled close to Tanjiro, seeking the boy’s protection from his impending doom. And who seems about ready to pass out from the stifling aura the Wind Hashira exudes. 

A sheepish expression colours your features as you observe the scene. One in which you could have easily been like Zenitsu on the receiving end of Sanemi’s nearly incurable anger. 

“Forgive me, Zen. I had no choice,” you whisper an unheard apology as you recall the prior moment of your treacherous act. 

An act you were sure Zenitsu may never forgive—unless you promised him your hand in marriage—and would forever taunt you with. The time when you’d hightailed it leaving him, your partner-in-crime, for dead in an exchange to save your own skin when you both caught wind of Sanemi’s thundering stomps growing eerily close towards the hiding place you two had sought refuge away from him—and his gruelling, barbaric training.

You clench your eyes, murmuring another apology, interrupted when your entire body suddenly jolts.

An involuntary reaction stirred by Zenitsu’s deafening shriek that escapes through his chattering teeth and past his quivering lips for the umpteenth time.

“Tell me where she is?!”

“I don’t know where she is!” Zenitsu snivels, feeling his soul slipping away from his worn body, inch by inch, at Sanemi’s threatening glare.

Sanemi narrows his eyes at his words, his annoyance surfacing in the form of a protruding vein etched into his face.

The frown he adorns curves lower. 

Was this kid tryna provoke him?

First he had the balls to sneak away with you, his woman, from training like a pair of eloping lovers. And now, he had the audacity to play him for a block-headed mule?!  

More veins decorate Sanemi’s face and his fingers curl into a fist. He snatches Zenitsu by the collar of his uniform in a vice-like grip, tearing him away from a hesitant Tanjiro, and hoisting him up to his level.

 “Oi,” Sanemi starts with a growl. “Spit another lie at me again, and training will be your least worst nightmare.” Zenitsu's breath hitches, shrinking back at the promised threat.

Immediately, his honey-brown eyes riddled with absolute fear flickers hesitantly around him.

They search for you.

You, who thought it would be best to remain a spectator of the scene in lieu of fleeing from the impending danger.

Zenitsu's inspection spans no longer than a minute, when his honey-brown eyes lock on to you. And you curse at your delayed inaction of not making a run for it.

Instead, you motion with a finger pressed against your lips and plead with doe-like eyes for him to keep his trap zipped.

Eyes wide, Zenitsu continues to look at you.

He blinks once. Then twice.

And lifts a weak finger, pointing at you.

Mother-fuc—

Sanemi’s petrifying gaze snaps in your direction. And you practically teleport, vanishing like a magician’s final act.

Beads of sweat dot your face as your already tired legs, exhausted from training sprint away from the scene as if one hundred man-eating demons were tailing you, their premium main course. 

You weave through a series of corners of the large estate, all while you murmur prayer after prayer for a successful escape.

Prayers, unfortunately for you, that go unanswered when you swerve around a corner, colliding face-first into a solid chest.

The whiplash of the impact sends you stumbling back. Though, before you can form a union with the ground, a hand shoots out, grabbing a hold of your wrist.

“Where do you think you’re running off to, you brat?!”

Your eyes that had instinctively clamp shut, shoots open to peer up at Sanemi looking down at you with his usual grim expression.

You glance down at his hand wrapped around your wrist, keeping you secured in place, then back up at him. 

“I-I...” you fumble in an attempt to find the right words to aid you in your defence. “I just needed to uh…um, stretch my legs a bit,” you lie through a toothy-smile. “I was planning to return to the dojo right after, I swear.”

Sanemi huffs at your weak attempt of a fib.

“Yeah, right. I’m taking you back to the dojo, and this time—” he leans down to your height, his lips stretching into an almost sinister smile “—if you try to ditch again, you’ll be having another playdate with Obanai's pet snakes.”

You flinch, shrinking back with a shudder as you recall the terrifying and slithering serpentine hardships you’d had to endure before given the okay to proceed to Sanemi’s training.

You slump your shoulders in defeat. “I promise I won’t run away from training again," you whimper, fighting the urge to break down in tears like a petulant child who didn't get their way, right there and then.

“Good,” Sanemi says, releasing your wrist before he turns around and starts heading in the direction of his dojo.

A prolonged silence settles between you two during your trek, your trudging footsteps trailing behind Sanemi's.

It bothers him: your unusual silence, and the cause of it.

He was more than aware that his approach to training was extreme. But it had to be, for your sake, and the others.

To grow strong enough to defeat Muzan and his army of demons, and most importantly—to protect yourselves.

He didn't want to witness any more lives perishing in this demon-infested land, especially yours.

You, someone who he never thought would become his beacon of light amidst the darkness that plagued this god-forsaken world.

Sanemi spares a glance behind him to see your gaze downcast, your face bearing a sad pout.

The sight makes his rigid expression soften. And you’re not aware when his footsteps slow to a stop until you lightly bump into his back.

You raise your gaze, confused on why he’d suddenly stopped.

“Sanemi?...Are you okay?”

Sanemi doesn’t respond for a good minute, his silence brewing worry inside you.

You slide out from behind him, attempting to catch a read of his expression from the front, but he turns to avoid your gaze.

“Do...you want to have some tea?” he eventually speaks. "Us, together, I mean?"

You blink in surprise at the question. “Tea?”

Sanemi nods before turning to meet your eyes and you notice the faint hue of red painting his cheeks. “Yeah. And that dessert you wanted to try last time?”

“What about training?”

“We can take a break. For now."

Your lips pull into a beaming smile as you reach a hand towards his own, twining your fingers with his. And Sanemi welcomes the pleasing comfort of your hand embraced in his with a gentle squeeze.

“Sure, l'd like that.” Sanemi nods, a small smile adorning his face at your content expression as the two of you make your way back to his dojo.

© 2024 kana-daydreams

[bachel0roflaws]

Reverse Beartrap

[maizylx]

Tying their hair into pigtails while they're asleep

Feat: Blade and Jing yuan

Blade

You'd never even considered the idea of tying Blade's hair into pigtails unless you had a death wish, but here you were, dared by Silverwolf to do just that. Blade was currently taking a short rest on the couch in the center of Elio's quarters (idk if that makes sense) with his sword cuddling to his upper body as if it was a plushy. With two red ribbons in hand, you cautiously crept up behind him, hoping to execute the deed without getting caught.

As you drew nearer, nerves churned in your stomach, but the thought of enduring Silverwolf's relentless teasing if you backed out spurred you on. Clenching your fists, you reached for Blade's hair, which surprisingly felt soft to the touch. You quickly pushed that thought aside, knowing you had to act fast if you wanted to avoid a certain death sentence. Parting his hair, you wrapped one of the ribbons around a thick section, your fingers trembling as you attempted to fashion a cute bow. After what felt like an eternity, you managed to complete one side, releasing a sigh of relief.

However, your moment of triumph was short-lived as Blade's eyes suddenly snapped open, fixing you with a glare that sent a shiver down your spine. A groan of anger escaped his throat as he demanded, "What do you think you're doing?" Panic surged within you as you flinched back, watching in horror as he rose from the couch, sword in hand. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, he was already hot on your heels, his expression a mixture of fury and disbelief.

Meanwhile, Silverwolf watched from the sidelines, her laughter echoing through the quarters as she recorded the chaotic scene unfolding before her. Instead of coming to your aid, she seemed content to capture your desperate attempts to flee from Blade's wrath. As you dashed through the quarters, narrowly avoiding Blade's swinging sword, you couldn't help but curse your luck and to never to accept a dare from Silverwolf ever again.

Jing yuan

It wasn't difficult to catch Jing Yuan asleep, especially during the afternoon when he often took a break from his duties. You found it amusing to playfully prank him whenever he dozed off, so you waited patiently for the right moment to strike. When afternoon rolled around, you made your way to the Divine Foresight, knowing it was a favorite spot of his for a midday nap.

Sure enough, you found him there, his cheek resting on his knuckles, head slightly tilted forward as he slumbered peacefully. With a mischievous grin, you approached him, a red ribbon in hand. Sneakily, you removed the ribbon holding his hair in place, allowing his long, fluffy locks to cascade over his back and shoulders. It was a rare sight to see him with his hair down, and you couldn't help but appreciate the view.

However, your mission was far from over. Determined to make him look ridiculous (if that was even possible), you swiftly divided his hair into two sections and wrapped the ribbons around each, forming pigtails. Luckily, only the scolding voice of Fu Xuan could rouse Jing Yuan from his slumber, so you had all the time you needed to complete your task.

Stepping back to admire your handiwork, you couldn't suppress a giggle at the sight of the strong, mighty General with pigtails. Quickly snapping a picture, you sent it to Yanqing, who couldn't resist coming over to see the spectacle for himself. Bursting into laughter upon arrival, Yanqing's amusement only added to the hilarity of the situation.

As Jing Yuan stirred awake from the laughter of yanqing, his drowsy gaze settling on the two of you, Yanqing quickly hid behind you. "Do you guys need something?" Jing Yuan murmured with a yawn, his expression even funnier now that he was awake. Struggling to contain your laughter, you managed to compose yourself as Jing Yuan sighed and closed his eyes again. "Good, then let me take my rest now," he mumbled, falling back asleep without a clue as to his new hairstyle.

you exchanged a devious glance with Yanqing, who suggested keeping the pigtails until he noticed. Unable to resist the temptation of seeing how long it would take for Jing Yuan to realize, you agreed, deciding to leave the ribbons in place for the time being. After all, it was all in good fun.

(I'm sorry if this turned out bad and boring to read, I tried to add more characters (argenti and boothill) but i was struggling to come up with a idea that wasn't too similar to blade and jing yuan but every idea i had didn't made sense so i just gave up BUT don't worry I will probably write a different story where argenti and boothill are mentioned)

[autumnslance]

Benchmark Tech Notes

Running the Benchmark

If your Benchmark isn't opening, it's an issue with the executable file, and something not completing properly on either download, or extracting the Zip file. The Benchmark is designed to run and give you scores for your potato computer, I promise.

I actually saved my Benchmark to my external drive, and it still pulls and saves data and runs as it should. Make sure you allowed the download to complete before extracting the zip.

Resolution

Check your Settings; in Display, it may be defaulting your monitor Resolution to something than you might otherwise use if you aren't on standard 1920x1080.

To check your monitor Resolution, minimize everything on your screen and right click anywhere on your Desktop. Go to Display Settings and scroll down to find Resolution and what it's set at.

You can set the Graphic Settings 1 tab to Maximum, or to Import your game settings. Display Settings tab is where you set it to be Windowed, Bordered, or Full Screen, as well as select Resolution to match your monitor in the dropdown (or customize it if needed). I speak on Resolution as some folks in my FC noted it changed how their characters looked.

The Other tab in Settings is where you can change the text output, or even check a box to disable the logo and score; I do this on subsequent plays, once I have my scores at various settings, to get the clean screenshots.

@calico-heart has a post about fixing graphics settings, with screenshots of the settings tab. Basically, change graphics upscaling from AMD to NVIDIA, and/or uncheck Enable Dynamic Resolution. Also check the Framerate Threshold dropdown.

Screenshots

The benchmark auto-saves 5 screens each playthrough. In the Benchmark folder there is a Screenshots folder to find the auto-images taken of your characters.

Character Appearance

If you want to get your current in game appearance, including non-standard hairstyles, make sure to load up the live game, right click and "Save Character Settings."

Then go to Documents/My Games/Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn (this is the default in Windows 10 so mileage varies). The file will have the date you last updated their settings and be named FFXIV_CHARA_01.dat (or however many saves you have/made).

Grab those newly updated DAT files for your character(s) and copy them, then in the same base folder, go to Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn (Benchmark).

Paste the copied DAT files in there, and rename to FFXIV_CHARA_BENCH01.dat (the number doesn't matter, and you may have more).

When running Benchmark Character Creation, use the dropdown menu.

If you do Create a Custom Character and Load Appearance Data, it will give you default hairstyles again. Meteor's Dawntrail hairstyle is a new default.

In Char Gen I am finding that a very pale hrothgal reflects the green scenery around her, giving her white skin/fur a green tinge. The other zones do not have this problem, or at least not to the same degree.

They added a Midday vs Evening setting in outdoor areas as well to test lighting. The lighting in the Gridanian innroom is better; not as bright as outdoors, to be expected, but not completely useless.

New voice type icons to clarifying the sounds you make.

Remember we're getting a free fantasia with the expansion, so some tweaking may be needed; Iyna I felt like I needed to adjust her jaw. Other colors--skin, hair, eyes, tattoos, etc--are showing differently in the various kinds of lighting.

Uncertain if the limit on hairstyles for the Hrothgals so far is just a Benchmark thing; they do have set styles for different head options. Everyone gets Meteor's hair though, so it may be a temporary/Benchmark limit. But which clan and face you choose drastically alters what hair and facial feature options you have access to.

Check your settings, tweak them a bit, play around with chargen, and remember this is still a Benchmark; they always strike me as a little less polished than the finished game, but so far I'm actually pretty pleased with having defined fingers and toes, the irises in the eyes, scars looking cut into the skin, and other improvements.

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8 K Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. (Reader discretion is advised). Prompt: You'll get even... This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 25: I’ll Get Even With You

Thursday, November 25th, 1976

The boys had walked you through their plan step by step, it wasn’t going to be easy, and it required a lot of technical skill to be performed, but it wasn’t impossible. You gave them a few suggestions here and there, you yourself had already been pondering different revenge ideas in your head and together you managed to come up with a rather elaborate but hopefully foolproof plan. 

Remus and you would work on the potions since you were best at them, and you would prepare them that very night, since, as Sirius said “There is no time to lose, we need to strike and we need to strike fast. They must know it’s retaliation for what they did.” 

James and Sirius would be in charge of charms, spells and hexes, and Peter would do recognizance, making sure the coasts were clear before you snuck inside the Slytherin common room to prepare every single one of the things you had in store. 

The planning job they had executed so far was truly astounding, and if this level of meticulous preparation was standard for all their pranks, it was no wonder they were renowned for their incredible feats. Clearly, this wasn't just some fleeting idea that had occurred to them in the shower; it had been meticulously crafted. It bordered on madness and teetered on the edge of hazardous. The exhaustive list of steps might have deterred even the bravest Gryffindor, and yet, despite all these elements, there was an undeniable thrill to it, an unmistakable, electrifying excitement that pulsed through every aspect of the plan. 

As you looked at the list of steps, you marked all the things that you’d be doing, you had to memorise it and burn the page after. You had to leave “no evidence,” Peter had whispered. 

One time he had been caught with one of the plans and everyone had been put in detention for an entire month, from that moment on, they had made one of the key steps of all of their plans to memorise everything. You thought it made sense and started to drill all the steps in your mind, even the ones that didn’t concern you, just in case. 

By midday, and as you were walking alongside the boys towards Magical Theory, you had already memorised and burned the parchment the boys had given you. James, Sirius and Remus had their heads so close together as they were whispering about. Peter was right in front of them, he decided he’d walk all the way to your class even if he had to be late to his own.  And you? You were right in the middle of them all. Sirius had grabbed you by your good arm and pulled you in closer gently so you could be part of the conversation. 

It was weird, to be in the planning rather than just a spectator from the side, giving them enough space to discuss their things as you always had. But not anymore, even Peter had been welcoming and willing to let you in on absolutely every single detail of the plan. Yes, it might have been a little different, but it was definitely the good kind of different, you liked being a part of it. Even more now, since it was your own little revenge. 

Of course, you wouldn’t do something that would really harm the Slytherins, not like they had done to you at least. You were aware neither of them knew about Remus, so when they threw you in the Shrieking Shack, they really had attempted nothing more than to give you the hell scare of your life. “The most haunted house in England”, one of them had said. 

The only person that actually knew about Moony was Severus, and even if he had been a total asshole, he had also gone and told Lily about it, which had ultimately saved your life, since she had been the one to tell the boys. Either way, he could have also stopped them from being stupid and suggested a different thing, but he did not, so the fact that you had almost gotten bitten by Moony was also his fault. Which was exactly why he wouldn’t get scot-free either.

Even if the Shrieking Shack had actually just been a haunted house, the worst thing they had done, would have been the fact that they pushed you around, hexed you a couple of times, manhandled and threatened you, which is nothing they wouldn’t have done in the school, so you all had to carefully plan something that held the perfect balance. 

The prank couldn’t be too dark or harmful, just enough to teach them a lesson, so that they learned that throwing people in haunted houses and attempting to scare this shit out of one of them was a dreadful thing to do.  Which is why your prank had mainly consisted of something of the same nature. 

“So you’ll talk to him about it?” Peter asked. 

“Yes, I think I can convince him.” 

“You sure?” James asked, “It’s pivotal for the plan that we get help from one of the–” 

“–Yes, I’m sure. Most of them already know what happened, Myrtle ran her mouth through their own little circle.” 

“Thought you were friends with her,” Peter said. 

“I’m as much of her friend as you can be,” you said with a shrug “but only the close circle knows, and I asked her earlier today to give him a message, I’ll meet him later near the Perfect Bathrooms, I’ve heard they’re empty rather often.” 

“You can meet him inside if you want, I’ll give you the password,” Remus offered. 

“She can’t meet him inside the bathrooms, it’d be inappropriate!” Peter argued. 

“How would it be inappropriate Wormmy?”

“Well you know, people might talk and…” 

“As if Myrtle didn’t spend half the time there too,” Remus huffed.

“But that’s–“ 

“Hold up! How do you know Myrtle spends half the time there?” you asked, looking at Remus in disbelief. 

“Well, I’ve seen her there, plenty of times, logically.” 

“While… bathing?” you asked again, rather hesitant. 

“She can be very meddlesome, yeah.” 

“And she’s never told me?!” 

“Didn’t you say you weren’t that close?” Sirius said, arching an eyebrow. 

You weren’t really listening “Oh Godric! The gossip she must have seen in those bathrooms.” 

Remus turned to you now “What do you think happens in those bathrooms?” 

“What do you think doesn’t? Unsupervised, private bathrooms the older students have access to?” 

“Oh…” Remus said in realisation. 

Sirius nodded “Yeah, I can confirm things happen there,” he said casually. You gasped and swatted him in the side, it was as if he had forgotten he was talking to his girlfriend with whom he had not gone to the bathrooms… yet. “From hearing about it,” he clarified, at least an octave higher as he rubbed the section you had hit him on. Drama queen, you thought, didn’t even hit him half hard. 

“So… you want the password?”

You thought about it for a second “Yeah… I guess it comes in handy, just in case…” you said. Sirius gave you a suggestive look. 

“Ugh mate, at least try and keep it in your pants!” James said, pushing Sirius to the side, causing you to tumble against Remus’ chest, who held you in place and arched an eyebrow as he looked at you from his higher stance, he seemed amused. 

“For the prank!” you clarified as if it were obvious. 

Remus nodded, the same amused look as earlier, Godric was it fun to tease you, even if the reason you were getting red for was Sirius and not himself. You were blushing, becoming shyer the wider he smirked. You pushed yourself off him, which had his little smile falter even if it was just for a second. “If you boys keep being gross about this whole thing I’ll just go hang out with Lily instead.” 

“You can’t, we’ve got class together,” James said, placing his arm over your shoulder “and whether you like it or not, you’re my partner.” You gave an exaggerated groan in response, tilting your head back just a little to make it seem more dramatic. “Oi! I’m not that bad!” 

“You talk about Lily all the time, and since your date is on Saturday I can’t imagine how much you will–“ 

“–Righ! you need to help me with the planning of that too!” He said taking his arm off your shoulder and turning to you excitedly. 

“But that plan is already done…” 

“But what will I say if–“ 

Sirius came over now, placing his arms over your shoulder “Mate, if you need her to tell you what to do in every single situation, why not let her go on the date with Lily instead?” 

“She’s your girlfriend!” James said scandalised. 

“Wouldn’t mind sharing her with Evans,” Sirius responded with a shrug which had you laughing, “she’s nice, they’d make a hot couple, actually,” the boy added, just to see James’ reaction. 

“Don’t you dare come seduce my future wife!” he said, turning to you with a threatening finger and in a playful tone. 

“As much as I’m into redheads, Lilly is most definitely just a friend,” you responded. 

“What do you mean you’re into redheads?” Sirius asked, turning to you a little shocked. 

You just shugged, “Red hair is really pretty…” 

“But I… I thought that… You said I was your type!” 

You shook your head with a teasing smile “You said you were my type Puppy.” 

Sirius seemed taken aback, but that was right, he really had been the one to say that Remus wasn’t your type because he was, you could practically see the gears turning in his head as his confident expression faltered, which had you suppress a giggle “So you like redheads then?” he said a little defensively “next thing I know you’ll come around telling me you’re also into sexy werewolves.” 

Remus almost choked on the piece of chocolate he was munching, but he played it off with a cough, you just gave Sirius a diverted look “Puppy,” you said with a raised eyebrow “Are you jealous ‘cause I said I’m into redheads?” 

“Of course not,” he said, “Why don’t you go and flirt with one of the Weaslys then?” 

You just laughed, you had no idea who the hell he was talking about since Arthur had graduated a couple of years before you even got into the school, and his younger brother was in 2nd (you had yet to meet him). “Sirius,” you said, calling his attention by leaning in to whisper in his ear “I might be into redheads, but I still like you better than any of ‘em.” 

Sirius almost went red, for a second, but got back on his feet faster than he faltered, and turned to you with a smirk “Well of course you do Starshine,” he said cockily, “After all you’ve got the hottest boyfriend in the entire school.” 

You, along with the boys, laughed at Sirius’ antiques. But she really does, Remus thought as he chuckled and extended his hand with the chocolate towards you, you took a square and bit half of it off before feeding the rest to Sirius. Remus swallowed, wondering if he could be happy with this. With just being a part of it by sticking to the two of you like he was doing then. He wondered if he would be able to survive the heartache whenever he was consumed by greed and desire to have one of you. Whenever he felt like he had to stop being a spectator and take part in the story instead. He shook that thought off his head, he had to focus on the prank now, that was the priority. 

Once near the classroom, Peter waved goodbye, walking to his class while you entered yours. You and James sat behind Sirius and Remus, and while you did attempt to work on your project, in the end, you had spent most of the time going over the plan with James. He had it all perfectly memorised, and he was now telling you how Remus and Sirius would sneak into the library to get the book with the charms they’d be practising all night while you and Remus prepared the special potions you’d be using later that day. 

“So they’ll use the map to sneak in and…” 

“What map?” you asked “Did Remus make more maps for the rest of the passages?”

“Oh well…” James seemed at a loss of words, then leaned down to talk to the boys, you arched an eyebrow, but watched as they whispered about. “Can we tell Vixen about the map?” 

“Yeah, she’ll see it when we go make the potions anyway,” Remus said. 

“I trust her,” Sirius said with a shrug. 

“Of course you do tosser, she’s your girlfriend,” James said with an eye roll “I trust her too, but what about Peter?” 

“I don’t think he’ll mind…” Remus said. 

“You don’t?!” Sirius asked, “He can be touchy as hell sometimes.” 

“But he likes her,” James added, more convincing himself than the rest, “I’ll tell her about it.” 

Finally, you leaned in, having your head almost bump into Remus’ who was sitting in front of you “Tell me about what?” you asked teasingly. 

Remus smiled, “Oh you’ll see,” he responded mischievously “I’ll tell you all about it later.” 

“Mr. Potter, and company,” you heard the voice of the teacher booming in your direction. “Would you mind telling me what’s so important that Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black have to say that you’re not focusing on your work instead?” 

“Sorry Professor,” you apologised. “I was just asking Remus about a particular charm he’s really good at, and we need to use it for our project. James was trying to listen in since both of us will be performing it and Sirius was just trying to help us out as well,” then you flashed the most charming and apologetic smile you could muster. 

“Well then, you should have told me earlier,” he said “Why don’t you guys move your chairs around so you can focus on your conversation better, instead of leaning down over your desks like that?” 

“That would be delightful! Thank you, Professor,” you said with another smile as motioned for Remus and Sirius to stand up as you flicked your want to move their chairs towards you.

“Ugh, you really need to teach me your ways,” Sirius said as he stared at you “I swear I’m charming but… he would’ve eaten me up had I tried something like that.” 

You looked over at the Professor, at the way he held himself “Nah, I’m sure you would’ve convinced him with one of those flashy smiles of yours,” you said with a shrug, “Even James would have convinced him.” 

“Way to leave Moony out,” the boy said with a low whistle that earned him a kick from Sirius, for making so much noise. 

“Thought it was obvious, Remus would’ve convinced him before I even attempted to do it, Professors love him to dеath.” 

“What?! that’s not–“ Remus started. 

Sirius and James interrupted him “Yes it is!” 

In the end, you went over the steps of the plan one more time before you went back to working on your actual class projects. You and James ended up working on the night vision glasses and because of how useful they could be, both of you started digging through books to try and figure out if you could actually finish them before the prank. 

Eventually, you did find a spell that could work, and while you were drawing a bunch of runes on the wooden table, James was writing down a copy of the spell on a piece of paper so the two of you could enchant the object at the same time. 

Both Remus and Sirius were impressed with how fast and in tandem you were working, as if you really had known each other for longer than you had. It was easy to forget how freaking brilliant James was while he was cracking jokes half the time, but he was as much of a genius as the rest of the boys, even if each of them had their thing. The class finished, and since you had lunch, neither you nor the boys worried too much about leaving the classroom as you continued working on your spell. 

That was until Lily showed up near the door “There you are!” She said once she spotted you “I was looking for you, time to change your bandages!” She said pulling a roll-out of her bag “We’ve got like 30 minutes before Defence Against the Dark Arts–” 

Your eyes opened wide, “–30 minutes?!” you asked shocked and turned to the clock “fuck, I’m supposed to be in the bathrooms with Richie,” you said as you stood up and placed your robes around your shoulders to then start unbuttoning the shirt, your back facing the boys.

Lilly took off her own robes and levitated them around you to give you more room to move around as her robes covered you while you took off your shirt, “Why do you need to see Richard near the bathrooms?” She asked. 

“It’s confidential!” James said before you even had a chance to open your mouth. 

“Yeah darling, don’t tell the beautiful redhead, no matter how tempting,” Sirius teased right after. 

You rolled your eyes and Lily arched one of her eyebrows “What’s that about?” She asked as she opened the roll and took out a small pot with her cream, you were unwrapping the older bandages while at it so that you could both end faster and you could run off to see Richie before he got too angry. 

“I accidentally told Sirius I was into redheads,” you said with a shrug “he probably won’t stop teasing me about it.”

“Oh,” she said surprised, taking the bandage you were unrolling with her own hands and helping you with it “Didn’t know you were into redheads…” she said casually “Would you mind if I tease Sirius about it?” 

“Not at all,” you said, “be my guest,” you smiled complicitly. 

“Oh wow,” she said as she looked at your injury “You heal fast,” she said surprised. 

You turned towards it, and she was right, while the wound wasn’t completely healed, it was significantly better than it had been the day before, let alone today in the morning when you were crying as you tried to cure it in the Room of Requirements. Perhaps the piercing paste you had somehow mustered up in the morning did something good in the end, even if it had hurt a hell lot while doing it. Either that or it was something else, either way, you were just happy it was looking better, if it went on like that, you might just be able to convince James to let you play on Sunday. 

“Ready for your date on Saturday?” you whispered, you could tell there was a slight blush creeping up her neck.

“That bastard is lucky I said yes, I don’t even know how exactly he convinced me,” she muttered. 

I do, you thought as you remembered the glass of punch she had in her hands at the party, “No idea, perhaps you just were really happy,” either way, it’s not like the euphoria potion made you do anything you didn’t want to, in fact, I’d go as far as to say it was like liquid courage. Of course, Remus wouldn’t agree with that opinion, or perhaps it did give him some courage, for the first five minutes or something.

“Yeah, I did feel quite happy,” Lily agreed. “It was really nice to hang out with James while taking the pictures, I guess I really hadn’t given him a chance before that.” She said as she dabbed the wound with her much more reliving paste. You would have cried from relief if it wasn’t because she’d asked you why you were crying. 

You were taking deep, slow breaths when you heard Sirius’ voice from behind Lily’s cloak “Hey luv, we’ll pick up some lunch for you so you can take your time with Richie, all right?” 

You nodded and then shook your head when you remembered he couldn’t see you “Yes, save me some sausages, will you?” 

“Whose sausages?” James teased. 

“Ugh, don’t be so gross Potter!” Lily responded “And to think I agreed to go on a date with him,” she muttered to herself. 

“I’m sorry my love,” he said in return “did not mean to upset you.” 

Lily just rolled her eyes “Get the poor girl her sausages and stop being annoying then.” You snickered as you heard Lily’s bickering and she gave you a look, you raised your free hand in surrender. A couple of minutes later she was done wrapping the bandage. “There you are darling,” she said with a smile. 

“Thanks,” you said with a smile “You’re the best.” 

Lily just smiled “Want me to come with?” she asked as she motioned to the door and you rushed to put your shirt and sweater on. 

You shook your head “It’s all right, I can deal with him. Besides, it’s kind of confidential.” 

Lily arched her eyebrows “Really? You’re not telling me what this is all about?” 

“Trust me, you’re better off like this, you’ll have plausible deniability,” you said with a smile as you finished accommodating your shirt. 

Lily was staring at you shocked as you walked to the door “What do you– (Y/N)! You can’t be working on a prank with them–“ she said as she followed behind, pulling her own robe that was still suspended in the air as she picked up her pace. “(Y/N)!” She whined when she realised just how far down one of the halls you already were. 

“Plausible deniability Lily,” you shouted from the end of the hall “Plausible deniability, trust me!” you repeated with a smile before turning in one of the corners, speeding through the halls to reach all the way to the outside of the Prefect Bathrooms, thankfully they weren’t that far off. 

After some more running you finally made it to the bathrooms, Richard Jackdaw was already there, looking a little annoyed as stared at you, as if you had him wait for too long. 

“Sorry I’m late,” you said, panting. “I got stuck in a class and then they had to change my bandages because, well, Myrtle mentioned it, didn’t she?” 

“That Barty and his gang threw you into the Shrieking Shack because you invited us to the Halloween Party?” he asked, “yeah I’ve heard… You know I had never been invited to a party before, at least not since I became a ghost a couple hundred years ago, and Myrtle, well, I’m sure she hadn’t been invited to one even when she was alive.”  

You tried not to cringe at his words, Richard could sometimes be a little bit of a boastful prick, but he was nice enough to hang around, and he had lots of interesting stories to tell, which is probably why you enjoyed hanging out with him and some of the other ghosts as much as you did. And you couldn’t blame him for his impression of Myrtle, since you had a very similar impression of her. 

“So… why am I here? Revenge, I assume.” 

You smiled, it was nice to know Richie and you were on the same page, you nodded “I want to pay them back in equal proportion,” you said with a smile. 

Richie arched an eyebrow, floating a little closer to the floor to see you eye to eye “Did ghosts really scare you in the Shack?” he asked with what you could only classify as curiosity “I know of no ghosts in there… And you aren’t particularly scared by us either…” 

You shook your head “There are no ghosts in the shack,” you confirmed, “but it is haunted by something else.” 

Richard pulled back, clearly interested in the story that you had to tell, the only thing was, that you wouldn’t tell any story, not today, possibly not ever… “And..?” he asked. 

“And nothing, the thing there did give me a hell of a scare, I almost died and everything,” you said casually “Got scratched up too–“ 

“–Yeah, Myrtle mentioned that one, she also said something about Mulciber being bedridden because of you.” 

You smiled proudly at that “Yeah, so I’ve been told,” you said “It was just Oppugno, but I guessed something funny must have gotten to him,”  you said with a shrug. 

“Aren’t you in 6th? Oppugno is a 7th year spell, I believe…” 

“It is, I’ve been reading ahead a good bit,” you said cockily “but talking about my small little success there, is not why I’ve requested to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he said haughtily “So then, tell me, what’s the plan?” 

“Well, I know you’re a member of the Headless Hunt,” you started, Richard arched an eyebrow as he leaned in one of the statues, “And I did mention payback in the same propor–“ 

“–Shhh…” he said as he placed a transparent hand close to your mouth and looked around “fuck,” he added as he fixated his head on one of the corners “Quick, rub the head of the toad!” he pointed at a statue. 

“Excuse me?” you asked with a frown. 

“Someone’s approaching, hurry!” He added you did as told, leaning closer to the statue and passing your hand over the large toad’s head. In a matter of seconds, the mouth of the frog opened wide and swallowed you whole. You ended up rolling on the floor and coughing a couple of times as you tried to figure out where you had ended up. 

Seconds later you saw Richard float through the wall “You all right?” he asked you “Didn’t hurt your arm, did it?” 

You shook your head, almost surprised at his concern, most of the time Richard was too stuck up to care for anyone else but his ghostly self, or perhaps that was merely a façade and you were finally looking at the real Richard Jackdow, either way, you already knew he was friendly enough to be willing to talk to the new girl, so you held him in relatively high regards. 

You nodded, he offered you his hand to get up but quickly pulled it back, as if it was hard for him to remember he wasn’t alive anymore. It was a rather interesting phenomenon, you thought since most ghosts still had a hard time remembering their capabilities as dеad people even if they had been ghosts for far longer than they had been alive. Myrtle, for example, hated it when books were thrown in her direction, even if she actually couldn’t feel them. 

You gave him a tight apologetic smile as you stood up, dusting your robes as you looked around “You’ve brought me to your Secret hideout, then… Who was outside?”

“Spellman and Nightshade,” he said “We don’t want them to think we’re plotting something, do we?”  

You smiled and shook your head, looking at the small table in the centre of the room, placing your hands on it and leaning in just a little to test if it was sturdy enough to hold your weight, naturally you used your good arm to avoid hurting the other one further. When it proved it was, you turned around and gave a small jump to sit over it, legs dangling a little as you stared at the boy, ghost with a smile “We certainly don’t, thanks for the heads up…” you said, trailing off at the end, realising how it could’ve been offensive only after you had spoken. Richie gave you an amused look, “sorry…” 

He just laughed, “You’re probably the only living person I’d let make head-related jokes without retaliation,” he informed. “But don’t you dare tell anyone about it!” 

“I would never…” you said with a smile “Consider it our little tête-à-tête secret.” 

Richard chuckled, shaking his head as he did, you were certainly a funny one, no wonder the entire school was so fascinated with the new girl “Don’t push your luck…” 

You just smiled, and leaned your head to the side “Will you ever tell me the story of how it happened?” you asked, since you’d been rather curious about it, but knew most ghosts didn’t really enjoy talking about their last moments alive. 

“I told someone once a few hundreds of years ago, they finished what I started,” he said “But that’s a story for another day, all thought they remind me of you a little.” 

You raised an eyebrow with a small grin “Did you also let them make head puns?” 

Richard hummed and shook his head “Privilege is reserved for you sweetheart,” he said with a wink. 

“Don’t sweetheart me,” you retorted with a smile. 

“You don’t mind when Remus does it.” 

“Well that’s–“ 

“You’re wasting my time luv,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, “What do you need me to do?” 

“The headless hunt,” you said. He hummed. “I need you to talk to them, and convince them to help us out.” 

He tilted his head “Won’t be an easy feat.”

“That’s the reason I came to you Ricchie, I know you can be very convincing.” 

He hummed again, leaning back a little as he stared at you “And then what? I doubt the Slytherins would be much too scared by the headless hunt, most of them are pure-bIood wizards anyway.” 

You started explaining all the details of the plan to him, his grin grew wider as you went through the potions and charms you’d be using, “You could add some spider venom essence to increase the sensation of crawling skin,” he offered, it had you raise your eyebrows and turn to him with newfound interest, he smirked “I was brilliant in potions when I was alive, that’s how I ended up working with Olivanders, helped whim with the extraction of ingredients.” 

“So now I know who to bother when I need potion-related advice,” you teased. 

He chuckled “Don’t make it a habit,” he retorted “By the way, do you not have class now?”

You looked around to try and find a clock in the old room, but there was none “Shit… I– Do you happen to know the time?” 

He laughed, “I’m dеad, not all-knowing.” 

You rolled your eyes, but nodded, finally jumping off the table “Thanks for helping me out with this, and for showing me your secret little hideout, clearly no one has been here in years.” 

“They haven’t indeed, I used to bring Anne and Apollonia to hook up here,” he said with a shrug. 

“You brought me to your hook-up hiding spot?!” you asked with a gasp.

He chuckled “Why? You bothered?” 

You looked around, aside from the dust and spiderwebs, it seemed clean enough “No… Can I use it?” you said casually, turning back to him. 

He raised an eyebrow “Which of your boyfriends will you bring here?” he asked. 

“I’ve only got one of those,” you dеadpanned. 

He smirked, “You keep telling yourself that, little one.” 

You rolled your eyes “So.. Can I?” 

He shrugged, “Leave a sock by the door at least.” 

You scoffed, diverted “It’s not going to be to hook up! it’s a perfect hideout to plan things… or even to prepare potions…” 

“Oh you’re definitely bringing one of your boyfriends here,” he said “Just don’t forget the socks.” 

“I swear, one can’t have close friends these days without everyone assuming shit.” 

“Or maybe you’re just that oblivious,” he whispered as he started to leave through a wall. 

“Hey! Wait! how the hell do I get out?” you asked. 

“You’re clever enough to figure it out,” he said with a laugh before disappearing. Freakin Richie! He left you locked up in the damn hook-up room. You looked around, the walls were wrapped with large thick bookshelves and a couple hundred books and other trinkets. There was a cauldron near the corner, along with some crystal vases, and a small cupboard with what looked like dried potion ingredients. It really was the perfect place to brew the potions once you’d gotten the ingredients from Slughorn’s office. The only issue left was getting out of it. 

There was no door, or anything that resembled one either. There wasn’t another identical statue either, so leaving the exact same way you had gotten in, was not an option. You took a deep breath and continued to look around, analysing the entire place again. There were more and more books, everywhere you looked. Some of them were in fact potion books, and they had some of the library symbols, which meant either Richie or someone before him had been the one to take them there. You grabbed one of them and started flipping through the pages when something caught your eye, there was a small frog carved into the side of one of the bookshelves. 

You left the book on the table without sparing it a second glance and reached the bookshelf in two strides, leaning down, you realised that there was a section that you could press, you smiled, leaning into the wall to try and hear if there was anyone outside. When you were sure there wasn’t you took a deep breath, brazing yourself for what was to come. 

Finally, you pressed the head of the frog, in a matter of seconds you were outside, this time you managed to land on your knees and quickly pretended you were tying your shoelaces as you looked around, trying to make sure no one had seen you. When you were sure the coast was clear, you stood up, and turned to the clock at the end of the hallway. You were fucking late. 

You didn’t think twice, speed walking towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom. The door was open and lots of people were gathered around two long tables, you instantly knew what was happening, you knew the arrangement, you’d seen it before… in the duelling club.

You took a deep breath and waited till most people had turned around to sneak inside as fast as possible, you were walking straight towards the girls when you felt a hand on your shoulder “Lovely to see you decided to grace us with your presence darling,” you froze dеad in your tracks, that was Professor Nightshade's melodic voice.

You turned around with an apologetic smile, ignoring the pang on your arm as she accidentally brushed your shoulder wound. “I’m sorry Professor,” you said “I’ve been feeling a little off lately, I’m aware I’ve missed a couple of classes, and duelling club but I–”

“–don’t need to hear your explanations,” she said with a smile, you weren’t exactly sure if she was being kind or hostile about it “We were just about to start a new duel, we were looking for a second volunteer, would you care to do it?” Remus, who was standing a couple of metres behind tensed up, trying to give you a warning, but you didn’t notice, you were too enthralled by Nightshade’s stare. 

“Uhh… yeah sure,” you said as you dug your pockets to bring your wand out. Finally, you noticed Lily facepalming herself on the side which had you frown. You turned around, to look at the spot on the table to which you’d have to climb to, and you instantly knew why she had done it. 

On the other side of the long table, looking as pleased with himself as it gets, was Evan Rosier. You looked at him, keeping your expression as neutral as you could. And walked over to the table, Professor Nightshade elegantly offered you her hand so you could lean on it as you gave the rather tall jump, and you took it with a small smile, even if you were gritting your teeth as you got backlash from leaning on your wounded arm. 

Seraphina had no idea you were hurt, so even if she was hurting you she was doing it unwittingly. You saw James cringe as she grabbed onto your arm to help you up, but neither he nor anyone else could interfere. Once you were up there, you tightened your grip on your wand as you stared ahead. Last time you’d faced the boy he’d been in advantage, he had gotten you from behind, by surprise and he was a lot stronger than you were. That without even mentioning how it had been a 4 against one situation. 

This time it was different, there was no room to play dirty,  Nightshade was there and she wouldn’t allow it, you wouldn’t say you were particularly in advantage. Evan was a very talented wizard, you knew that much, but you were even, and that was enough for you to feel the adrenaline start pulsing through your veins. You’d get the chance to redeem yourself. You’d prove that you weren’t actually weak.  

“Backs to each other,” you heard Nightshade order, both you and Evan did as told, “I’ll count to five, and you’ll step away from each other that same amount of steps, when I’m done, you may turn around and start the duel, Understood?” 

You nodded and noticed from the corner of your eyes that Lily was gripping James’ arm with a nervous grip, the boy himself seemed tense, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the way Lily was clinging onto him or because he was just as worried for you as she was, probably both. 

“One,” NIghtshade said, both you and Evan gave a step in the opposite direction, you realised Peter had a tight grip on his own wand, and was darting his eyes rapidly between you and just behind you, he was looking at Evan, you realised. “Two.” You took another step. 

Remus could see Sirius tensing up, the boy was breathing slow and steady and had his eyes glued to Evan. He took a step towards his friend, and placed a hand over his shoulder, attempting to make it look like a friendly gesture as if not to call too much attention. Not that people were staring, no, they were all too busy staring at you and Evan. It’s not that the entire class knew of the rivalry between the two, but most people knew about the time you had hit Barty with the quaffle and they knew Barty and Evan were best friends. They had also seen your hostile behaviour towards each other, and with all the attention you were getting because of quidditch, you weren’t exactly one to blend in the back. 

Even if not everyone in the classroom knew how far the rivalry went, they knew the duel they were about to witness would be one to remember. Especially since both you and Evan, were just as talented in charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts as each other. Had Nightshade paid a little closer attention, and not believed Slughorn when he said that you were on friendly terms with each other and made a fantastic team, maybe she would have realised what a terrible idea this was.  

“Three,” She said, you both took another step, widening the distance between the other. You took a deep breath, tightening your grip around your wand, Evan was most likely going to go straight for an attack, so you’d have to be ready to block it, “Four,” she said, and you took another step, you could feel the tension building, the entire class was silent. So silent it was as if they were holding their breath. 

Remus felt Sirius inch forward and he instantly tightened his grip on the other boy’s shoulder. Inching closer so that his chest was almost touching Sirius’ back. While Remus was just as tense as your boyfriend, he also knew how much more impulsive Sirius was, so he started to rub soft circles with his thumb near the boy’s shoulder blade, “She can take him,” he whispered reassuringly, his eyes glued on you as he spoke. 

Another moment of silence and then “Five.”

In a matter of seconds both you and Evan were facing each other, “stupefy,” he spat. 

“Protego,” you said just before his spell reached you, casting a light blue force field around you that instantly blocked his spell. Once the two spells crashed against each other you spoke again “expelliarmus.” 

“Excellent wand work, the both of you,” Seraphina said “Pay attention to her shield charm, she cast it right before Evan’s spell reached her, which makes the spell even stronger.” 

While she spoke, you and Evan continued launching spells at each other, but you both had wicked-fast reflexes and managed to counter most of them, which meant you were both increasingly using stronger and more complex charms and jinxes to try and get to the other. 

“Serpensortia,” the blond said, you paused for a moment to look at him while a very big snake approached you, it was a very basic spell, and you weren’t sure why Evan would use something like that against you, perhaps it’s a Slytherin thing, you thought.

“Flipendo,” you said pointing towards the snake, effectively pushing it back towards the boy, the snake had flown so fast, that it fell right over his shoulders. He hissed and pushed it to the side, having it fall over the head of a couple of other students. 

“Keep the spells on the table!” Nightshade reprimanded as several students sprung back, trying to get out of the way.

You turned to the side and pointed your wand at the snake “deletrious,” you said, the snake rolled on itself and disappeared, but the little distraction had given Evan an advantage.

“Diffindo,” the boy spat, you ducked, but the curse got your cheek either way, causing a small slash on it. You heard some people hiss, Remus had to basically glue Sirius to his chest to warn him not to step in. He knew the teacher would reprimand him, but even worse, he knew you’d be pissed if anyone stepped in at that point. 

You touched your face, with your free hand, seeing the bIood on your fingers as you turned your wand back to him, or more precisely to a point in the ground near his feet, “reducto,” you said, causing a small explosion on the table that caused Evan to jump back, giving you enough time to get back your own footing. 

Evan seemed to panic as you got up and pointed his wand at you “Confringo!” he said, you somehow managed to block the spell. 

“Rosier!” Nightshade reprimanded “That’s not a spell we–” 

“-Avis!” you responded, causing a swarm of birds to fly in Evan’s direction.

“Miss (Y/L/N)!” She started as well, but neither of you was paying much attention to her words at that point. 

“Expulso!” he spat, the birds all exploded into thin air “Incarcerus!” You blocked. 

“Petrificus totalus!” you said, but he jumped to the side, “Incarcerus!” 

“Impedimenta!” This time, you both got each other. 

You were moving in slow motion as he fought with chains that wrapped around his feet and arms. “Fini…” This was going to take a while, you realised. Evan was working around the ropes pretty fast. “…te incantatem…” you managed to say and got back on your feet only seconds before he shot another jinx that you managed to counter by a hair. 

He pointed his wand at your face “Reducto!” 

You blocked and shot the same spell, he blocked, “stupefy!” He blocked. “Exoelliarmus!” he blocked. He was blocking everything, you’d need something stronger to get him even as he was blocking. “Confringo!” you spat again, but Evan had been distracted by Nightshade who was still trying to end the duel and it got him. You gasped as the boy was shot back by a fiery explosion. You’d been expecting him to block, so you weren’t measuring the strength of the spell. 

Evan barely managed to sit as he reached the floor and started trying to put the fire on his robes off. “Relashio,” you said, launching a good deal of water over him. You had already won, he was on the floor, not on the table anymore, but he was pissed, everything stung and on top of that you had made him look like a wet rat with your stupid water spell. 

Evan pointed his wand at you “Furnu-“ he started.

“Expeliarmus!” Nightshade interrupted, taking Evan’s hand away from his hand “That’s enough!” she said sternly “The two of you are way out of line!” You swallowed, still looking at her. “Diffindo?! Confringo?! Are you two out of your damned minds?!” 

“Evan was the first one to–“ 

“–Silence!” she uttered, you bit your tongue, “I’ll take Mr. Rosier to the infirmary,” she informed “But we’ll be having a talk after dinner Miss (Y/L/N), not only because of the duel,” she added, and then turned to the rest of people “Class is cancelled everyone, you may go back to your daily tasks.” She then dragged Evan out of the classroom. 

There was a series of whispers and people started leaving the classroom, you were still standing over the table, slightly frozen when Lily reached for your hand and helped you down, she took a look at you, placing both hands on the sides of your head to check the cheek that Evan’s spell had gotten cut. James was there, looking at it over Lily’s shoulder, and he winced as the girl moved your head to the side to give it a closer look. The rest of your friends were fast approaching, you still hadn’t said a word.  

Sirius came to you with a huge smile, Remus trailing close behind you “Starshine!” your boyfriend said, trying to get your attention. Since your head was still being held by Lily’s hands, you just focused your eyes on him, he had a huge grin on his face “That was incredible luv!” he started. You didn’t have much of a reaction. “The way that you–“ 

“–Sirius,” Remus said, calmly, trying to get the boys’ attention, he had somehow gotten just in front of the longer-haired boy in a matter of seconds. 

“And then how you–“ 

“Sirius,” he called again. The boy finally turned to him, and saw the way Remus shook his head slowly. Sirius frowned, not quite getting what Moony wanted to say.

“He didn’t block,” you muttered. 

“What was that luv?” Lily asked, the boys’ attention all on you now. 

“I– I was expecting him to block… I didn’t mean to…” 

Sirius frowned “What?! But after the things they did–“ 

“What did they do?” Beth, who had just gotten there, asked. 

Sirius swallowed. “They threw them off their brooms while they were broom surfing,” Remus intervened. 

“You went broom surfing again?” James asked, in shock, Lily almost kicked him in the shin, “Because I thought–“ 

“He’s in the infirmary because of me,” you muttered again. That was not the plan, that was not how you’d get back at them. 

Yeah, you almost died because of him, I’d say you’re even, Sirius thought, but he didn’t voice it, the rest of your friends were gathering around. 

“Should we put something on your–“ Lily started. 

You shook your head “I’m fine.” 

The girl nodded, understanding that you needed some space to process everything that had gone down, especially because of how fast it had been.

“We should go to the common room,” Remus voiced from beside you, and then leaned a little closer, placing one of his hands on your back, a soft reassuring smile “We still have the food you asked for earlier.”

You looked at him, eyes a little unfocused at first, but eventually you nodded.  You all walked back to the common room together. Sirius had taken your hand in his, to try and give a reassuring squeeze, even if he wasn’t quite sure why you were so perturbed, since he thought the way Evan had ended up was well deserved. He’d seen the marks of his fingers on your neck and jaw, he’d seen the sheer stress you had been put into when they matched you with him in potions, in fact, he’d go as far as to say confringo, hadn’t been enough, but that might just be the Black in him. 

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: So now we know exactly what they were looking at... Can we talk about those wolfstar interactions getting better and better? Gosh I love them so much I swear. Thoughts? Comments? What exactly could the prank be? Also, can you tell I really liked Richie from Hogwarts Legacy?

Raead more Marauders Fiction

[dearlittlefandom-stalker]

Imagine being one of the Roman soldiers though. Imagine having to do what you thought would be a normal execution one day.

Three convicts, two of which are thieves. As for the third… I mean, yeah some people say this guy is the “messiah” (whatever that means, you’re no Jew) and there is talk of miracles and the religious nuts really seem to hate him, but you have him nailed to a cross all the same, so what? If he is a god then he can join the club; Caesar knows that the Romans have enough gods to fill their pantheon and then some. Most likely he’s just a man with some hefty delusions that cost him his life.

But then earthquakes happen. Weird but can be written off as chance, right? Then the sky goes dark midday. A blood moon rises.

That ain’t normal.

Feelings unlike anything you’ve ever felt arise in your gut. The man cries out with a loud voice “It is finished!” and dies immediately after. You shiver. Uncanny, that is.

“Surely this Man is the Son of God,” a fellow Soldier exclaims beside you. At this point you might agree, but the spear still pierces through his skin all the same and you think (hope) that whoever this God-Man was that he isn’t your problem anymore, seeing as he’s dead. Hopefully you can forget the whole thing. (Somehow you feel that this scene will haunt you for a long time)

But the debacle is not over with the burial, as you had assumed. The religious nuts get real anxious and noisy, so to shut them up Pilot has a watch set to guard the body of a dead man. A dead man.

You personally have seen many dead men in your time, but never have you seen one move. Never have you seen or heard of people particularly wanting to touch dead bodies, either. You almost say as such when you are one of the men assigned the last watch, but decide you’d rather like to keep your tongue than chance losing it. You expect it to be rather a boring job, all told.

And it is. Until these, these beings of light and lightning descend on top of you from the Heavens and the last thing you can think before you know no more is whatever god whose body I’ve been guarding please spare me

You wake up, despite all your expectations to the contrary. You almost wonder if it would have been better if you died.

Those religious nuts come to you and your fellow guards and give you some coin along with a fake story to tell. They offer to save the skin off your back so you are not put to death like others who’ve been killed for less. You go along with the story because to be honest there is still a part of you that hopes this was all a dream. But the borrowed words taste like ash in your mouth and the coins jingle in your pockets with all the weight of a chain.

You go through the rest of the day (and night, and the next day and night) after the event in a haze. Your feet walk where you know not and you don’t care to correct them.

But then you see Him.

The same Man you saw die.

The same Man whose body you guarded.

This Son of God, in the flesh, you see stand in front of a crowd with your own two eyes and you can scarce believe it but all the same you know more than you’ve ever known anything before that this is real, that this Jesus is truly not just a god, but The God.

And so you decide to follow Him.

Just imagine that for a minute.