#my dear friend ali is the one who came up with this i just made the image but i cant stop thinking about it

[melto]

touma’s fighting for kento’s life in dms on the regular

[readychilledwine]

Hello it's me again. I hope all is well with you. I was wondering if u could write something about reader and any of the bat boys (maybe all three but not shorts) where the teenage daughter is dating or something? You can write the way u want

*Cracks knuckles* time for girl dad Cassian 😍😍😍😍

Daddy's Girl

Summary - With his daughter freshly turning 50, Cassian now faces the hardships of losing his babygirl to adulthood and the horrors of dating.

Warnings- very protective Cassian along with Uncle Az and Rhys having to do their thing, usual batboy dramatics. **edit to additional warnings** adults discussing different methods of sex education and dads doing the being more protective of their daughters than their sons thing**

A/N - I based Adriana's age off what I thought I remembered Alys saying about fae young in the first book (her nephew's were 50 and just looked like adult) pleaze correct me if I'm wrong, though

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

You glared as Cassian sighed again. Flipping the page in your book as he shifted and stared at you. "Just tell me where she is." You looked up at him over the edge of your book before shutting it slowly and laying it on the coffee table.

"I've told you." You answer him cooly, watching as that smirk grew on his face.

Cassian shook his head. "You told me what she was doing, that you had allowed her to leave with a friend," he said the word like he was holding back a vomit, "but not where she was." You two had played this game frequently. The one where he'd do his best to play Azriel and drag answers from you. It wasn't until familiar scarred hands found your jaw and Rhysand appeared next to Cassian that you realized this was serious.

"Where is my niece?" Azriel uttered the words in an eerily calm voice as he forced you to look at him.

You checked your shields, swallowing thickly. Had you known when Adriana was born 50 years ago she would be the only female among the litter of children, you would have immediately ran for hills. 

Rhys had 4 sons with Feyre. All of whom were incredibly protective of their female cousin. Azriel shared 7 kids with Gywn. All male. All older than your daughter.  You and Cassian shared 3 children. Two twin sons, both cunning and smart, and your youngest, sweet Adriana. 

"She's in Velaris." Azriel scoffed at the answer and you checked your shields again as the first scratch came.

"Semantics." Rhysand purred. "Where in Velaris?"

"And with whom?" Cassian immediately followed, his body language much more relaxed despite the panic radiating down the bond.

Azriel had not dropped your chin. Keeping your eyes and face locked on his. "Y/n, you know how this ends. You can tell us freely or I can pry it from you."

You spat back quickly. "Only if Gywn is joining." The shock made Azriel's hand fall from your face and allowed you to put space between the three of them and you. "She's a grown female. If she wants to go on a date, that is perfectly fine."

Cassian's eyes were wide immediately. "You didn't say it was a date before, sweetheart."

"Because I knew you would react like this." You paused, crossing your arms against your chest before looking at Rhysand. "When Nyx went on his first date, you told him how to charm her into his bed." Rhys nodded in agreement and smiled fondly.

You then turned to Azriel. "When Erza wanted to court a female for the first time, not just date her, but truly court her, you took him to not one, not two, but 7 brothels, one in each court, ensuring he had learned how to please a female from sex workers."  Azriel didn't disagree, the corners of his lips twitching up as his eyes sparkled.

You finally turned to Cassian, a finger raised. "And you. You, dear husband. The one who planted legends of the sexual escapades of you and your two brother, into our sons minds, shall I bring up the incident where we walked in on our twin sons and that fem-"

Cassian stood, covering your mouth quickly with his eyes wide. "This is different. This is my daughter. My illyrian daughter who has wings. My daughter who chose arts and philanthropy over training. My girl-"

"Our girl," Rhys corrected softly. "Addy is the only girl we were blessed with. We don't mind that she's on a date. We just want to know who and where." He stared at you, eyes searching and pleading for an answer. "Please, y/n, it wasn't really that long ago when she used to say she was going to marry myself or Azriel because we would never hurt her. What if he does hurt her? And we weren't there." Rhysand's jaw tightened, his eyes squeezing shut as if to erase an image he did not want to create. "Who is she with? Please. She's just."

"She's our world," Azriel finished. His voice was also tight. Eyes peering up at the ceiling. "She is a gentle, kind, beautiful girl. I just do not ever want to see her hurt."

Cassian whispered, "I will not be able to live with myself if something happens to her, y/n." Your eyes were watering as you stared at Cassian. "Sweetheart, please. We weren't ready for this. I was not ready for her to date yet. Especially without me meeting who she was going out with."

"You already know him," you answered softly. "Micha Vanserra and Adriana are at the bakery we go to every Saturday on the Sindra. They're going to attend a candlelit concert in the heart of the Rainbow tonight. They are meeting another couple there." You watched as Rhys relaxed slightly and Azriel's wings unfurled.

"Eris and Nesta's son?" Azriel sat down and shrugged. "She's safe. Nesta and Eris worked very hard to ensure he grew up respecting and admiring females and women. He is with Eris at every visit to shelters for females. Good kid."

Rhys nodded in agreement. "Nyx is going to the same concert with a female tonight. I'm assuming that is who they are meeting. If he does, by chance, do anything to her, Nyx will probably just kill him. He likes the male but hasn't forgiven Eris for the comment about y/n when she was pregnant." You rolled your eyes, having forgiven Eris for calling you a "delectable pumpkin ripe for taking" trying to get under your husband's skin many years ago.

Cassian stared at you. "You let her leave with Micha Vanserra?" You nodded. "He's not good enough." Cassian immediately turned to head out of the door only to be stopped by shadows and tendrils of darkness.

Azriel had pulled out cards and had summoned whiskey. Rhys spoke, leaning back into the couch further as he poured 3 glasses. "Cassian, we have an alliance with Autumn. Micha is a good male. A very good one. And well trained in combat. Along with that, he is the heir of the Autumn Court. What were you hoping for? A God?"

Cassian's hand on his hidden dagger twitched, and his shoulders fell in defeat. "She's my baby," he repeated softly. 

You moved to him, a hand running up and down between his shoulder blades. "And it's time for her to fly, Cass. Stopping her from dating will push her away and create secrets. We promised all of our kids we would never put them in a situation where secrets felt needed, remember?" He nodded, wings falling even more. "Come drink with your brothers and play cards. How long has it been since you three had a poker night? How long has it been since we had a child free night?"

"Years," Cassian grumbled. "Since Nyx was born." You nodded, kissing his back. "Maybe a few rounds." He moved to them, conceding and sitting in the circle as Rhys cheered in victory, and Azriel smiled and dealt cards. "If She's late, though, I'm hunting him down."

"Oh yeah," Azriel agreed. "Rhys and I already decided that." Azriel paused, studying his cards, "Now what exactly did my nephews do?" You watched as Cassian's eyes wrinkled slightly as he smiled. Rhys threw you a wink, and you blew him a kiss as you walked away, your husband already deep into the story about your sons.

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories /five/ Azriel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

They came not an hour later. You hid in your rooms like the coward you accused Tamlin of being. They didn’t put up a fight as Amerantha’s men, Rhys included, hauled them off towards the mountain. It left you in a state of dismay. Because with Tamlin gone, and the Faebane slowly leaving your system, there was no reason for you to stay here in Spring. You could easily run back to the night court and hide in one of the cabins your family owned. You could easily hide in the mountains and pray that one day Amerantha would meet her match. 

Only you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. One day you tried, only to turn and vomit in the rose bushes. You then turned around and went back to your rooms and crawled under your covers. You stayed there and didn’t move for the rest of the day. 

On the third day, Feyre showed back up. Much to your surprise, claiming to love Tamlin and willing to go under the mountain to save him. You rolled your eyes, but knew that love well. Because you would have given your wings if it meant seeing Az again. 

“She’ll kill you,” You say from your spot at the kitchen doors, “The second she realizes you’re there, she’ll kill you. But she’ll draw it out, make it slow and painful.”

“Not helping,” Alis hissed at you. 

“Who are you?” Feyre whips to face you. 

You only smirk, “A friend. That’s all you need to know. Rhys might be your only hope.” 

“Rhysand is a brute.”

“Perhaps,” You shrug, “But he wants out from under Amerantha as much as the next, only he has the power to make it happen.”

“What are you saying?” She questions. 

“If he comes to you with a bargain, take it,” You tell her, “It could just save your life. Play his games, it might just save you from hers.” 

“Don’t be a fool,” Alis said, “Don’t make any bargains.”

“Fine then, die and damn us all.”

“Why are you trying to help me?” Feyre asks. 

“Because, dear human, I want to go home,” you said almost wistfully, “And I can’t as long as that bitch is in power.” 

“Where is home for you?” 

“The Night Court. But I’ve been held here for hundreds of years.” 

“How old are you?” Her voice shook as she asked. 

You only laughed and shook your head, “My age is of no concern to you. I’m not even sure I know it anymore anyway.”

Alis sighs from behind Feyre and gathers some supplies. you  watch her carefully, wondering if she’s eager to send the poor human to her death, or if she hates the idea as much as you do. But you can only hope that Rhys will help her in any way that he can. You can only hope that he wants out as much as you think he does. 

“If you ever feel alone, look towards the shadows,” You explain, “I’m not promising I’ll be there. But if I feel I can risk it-” 

“Now that would be foolish,” Alis adds. 

“Thank you, Alis,” I hiss back, “You should go, now. Mother knows what that Bitch has done to your precious Tamlin.”

The idea of him getting his happy ending made you sick again. The idea of him being able to be happy when he’s caused so much suffering….you almost couldn’t handle it. But if this meant Rhys and the other members of the Night Court could be free then you had to allow it to happen. You had to try to aid the young girl in any way that you could. 

“Stick to the shadows,” You tell her, “You won’t get far once you enter, but always listen. And keep your wits about you.”

“Thank you,” She said in earnest. 

You watched from the broken front door as Alis led her away. You weren’t sure you’d ever see the human again, but you weren’t sad to see her go. It felt like leading a lamb to the slaughter, but it had to be done. There wasn’t another choice. Not if you wanted to survive, not if you wanted everyone to be free again. 

Each day you flung your powers out further and further, urging your shadows just a little further. They whispered back to you, telling you of what was happening under the mountain. How Feyre was dying, sick with fever and how Rhys came forth with a bargain. She headed your advice and took the bargain, marking her with a tattoo and a bond with Rhys. 

Each day you tried to find a way to contact your brother, but you knew you couldn’t risk it. There was no way you could reach his mind from so far away, not with the lingering effects of years of Faebane still in your system. 

You prayed that maybe Feyre would tell him about you and he would figure it out for himself and come for you once all of this was over. You prayed and prayed. There was nothing but silence. No news came. Your shadows were skittish, growing restless waiting for Amerantha to do something. 

You lost weight from not eating. The lack of food would kill you eventually, and maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. If Valaris parished and there was nothing left of the people you called family- no one left but Rhys who thought you were dead anyway…would death be so bad? It could all be over finally, and maybe the Mother would be so kind as to bring you back to Az in the next life. 

Three months. A mere blip in your young life, but feeling like a lifetime nonetheless. It took three long months before you saw three figures coming up the road. They were moving fast, all three of them. Feyre, it seemed, was no longer human. Your shadows neglected to tell you that when they said she’d survived and Amerantha did not. 

You made your way downstairs, towards the door which you’d managed to somewhat fix. None of them looked worse for wear, but you knew whatever Feyre had been through would stay with her for a long time. And Tamlin had the ornate ability to simply sweep things under the rug and forget about them. He would do the same with her. 

She looked High Fae, smelled like it too. With traces of my brother. So small, almost undetectable, but there. Shimmering like the bond you knew they had. You wondered when he would call in his bargain, when he would take her away from this place and show her the splendor of the Night Court, the beauty of it. 

“You’re still here,” Tamlin stopped, a scowl forming, “I set you free.”

“You set me free, perhaps, but I would have died before I made it back to my own Court. Safer to stay here until I could contact my brother.”

“That won’t be happening,” Tamlin said slyly, “Feyre, darling, why don’t you go inside with Lucien. I’ll be inside in a moment.”

Your eyes narrowed as she did as she was told. Lucien spared you a glance, pity swirling in his eye. It made a pit form in your stomach. You wouldn’t be leaving the Spring Court, you realized. You would be forced to stay here until the day you died, or until Tamlin finally decided to kill you. 

Maybe you would make it your mission to push him as far as you could so he would kill you. Maybe then you could finally know peace, and not whatever it was that you knew now. 

“I thought I was going to free you,” Tamlin took a step towards you, “But then your brother made that Bargain with Feyre, and made me look like a fool under the mountain.” 

“So once again, I’m to become your bargaining chip?” I question, “What? Me for Feyre?” 

“Perhaps.”

“I could mist you,” You hiss. 

“Ah, but you can’t,” Tamlin laughs, “Because even after all this time, the Faebane is still in your system. You can’t even winnow, because if you could, you would’ve left by now.” 

He surges forward and grips your cheeks in his hand. You yelp in pain before going completely still. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing you in pain, or anything. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of it. 

“You, little one, are going to be here for a very long time,” He squeezed your face harder, “And I’m going to enjoy finally breaking you.”

Little did he know, you were already broken. 

“Go to hell,” You spit out. 

“I was already there,” He smirked, “It didn’t take.” 

“He’ll kill you once he finds out,” You force out, “And I’ll watch and laugh.” 

“I’m counting on him trying.”

Tag List

@historygeekqueen @queerqueenlynn @wallacewillow0773638 @sstrohma @saltedcoffeescotch @hnyclover @thelov3lybookworm @maddybraps @minnieoo @witchymomfrien @mariahoedt @one-big-fangirl @amara-moonlight @st0rmyt @annamariereads16 @hunterksmith

[witchofhimring]

Until there comes another

This series is being edited. I feel Alys came off as one dimensionally evil and the reader as a pretty flat character. So this will be heavily edited.

Queen you shall be, until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all you hold dear

Pairings:

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Part 1: Queen you shall be

Part 3: Younger and more beautiful

Warnings: angst, cheating, mentions of stillbirth/miscarriages, death

How did it comes to this? A year ago you had been Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Now you were simply Lady Y/n, the King's former partner. By the Gods you had fought with everything you had. Your family and friends had thrown their support behind you. But it was no use against the Kings will. The High Septon and mysteriously died, some said of poison. Whether or not it was true mattered no, he was dead. Shortly after the King had a catspaw for the Septon. Then, in a trial you had been forbidden, the marriage had been dissolved. Twenty years erased without a thought.

The end was swift. They removed your title, your finery, your ladies and lastly your daughter. You cried out as Daenerys, newly thrust into adulthood, desperately clung to on. Your little girl was ripped from your arms. Aemond did not extend his mercy. Not even then. Your daughter was taken to a far off room, hardly fit for a Princess. You were not even given a place within the palace. A sept in the heart of the West was your new prison. Far away from any true help. The only one they felt you with was Floris Baratheon, who accompanied you all the way.

You tried to write to your daughter to the best of your abilities. But you never received a reply. Whether she ever got them was unknown to you. But you did get messages snuck in from the other lords and ladies who supported your cause. All loyalty to your husband must cease for the sake of your only child. Plotting did not cure the constant dreariness you felt locked in these ancient stone halls. They seemed to close in around you. The only people there were the Silent Sisters. Silent as the grave. You might have gone mad if you had not been hard at work to plan your daughters future and Floris.

The day, stuffed in an apple core, there was left a rolled up note. You made sure you were utterly alone before unraveling it.

Your Grace,

I have heard you plight from across the sea. In your position the situation is dire. But I have come with an offer that will please both parties, Gods willing. As the only surviving child of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen I wish to extend my hand to your daughter, Princess Daenerys Targaryen. This match will satisfy both parties and unite out houses. Please leave your reply under your mattress, one of my informants will receive it.

King Viserys Targaryen, Second of His Name

You new this was an incredible risk. It might not even by the long lost Prince who you had once lead armies against. But it was all or nothing.

You had wanted to leave this place for so so long. Three years inside its confinements and you would be leaving. Only it was not in the way you expected. Three months ago you woke with a great pain in your belly. It took hours to subside only to come the next day. And from then the decline was swift. You lost weight, hair thinned, your eyes became bloodshot. Still, you fought on. You stayed up conspiring with the exiled Prince. You had come to accept this was the way things would go.

Life was not easy for the royal family from what you heard. Alys, now Queen Alys, was vastly unpopular. It gave you a slight satisfaction to hear that people called your name during her coronation. She was finding out that being Queen was more than just enjoying power. It was carrying the complete weight of Westeros on your shoulders. From what you heard she no longer glided through the halls confidently. And her fertility, unfortunately, was no better than yours. She had lost two babies, finally, she had a daughter. A baby girl who most considered a bastard. You pitied this baby. This poor girl would not receive the same support your little girl would. She may receive the title your girl once, but it would never truly be hers.

One day, Alys visited you. It was not a total surprise. Somehow you knew that one day, when her hour was darkest, she would come. Whether to seeks advice or cursed you was unknown. You sipped the tea your belly would allow in. The moment Alys entered Floris hissed like a cat. She stood up but you held her hand. "To what do I owe this pleasure." The words were polite enough, however you remained seated in your chair. You felt no need to feel ashamed at your predicament. You had done nothing wrong and this woman knew it. Gone was the beautiful Alys of four years ago. You now saw something of yourself in her. She bent over slightly, a testament to how her breasts now ached. Her hair had lost its fine luster and hung lose about her like a mop. "Lady Floris, I will ask that you leave the room." "I will do so if the Queen requests it." She replied stubbornly. "And your Queen has just given a command." "Wearing another woman's things hardly makes you the Queen." Floris replied stubbornly. You knew this would not end well. Alys had guards just outside the door. "Floris, please wait outside. I doubt I shall be in danger." She looked ready to defy you. But upon seeing the resilient look in your eyes, finally departed. She knew from that look you would be fine. "So, you have come to visit." You said once the door had closed. Alys took a seat in front of you. Labored huffs escaped her. "The King has offered you amnesty and a comfortable retirement should you only deny you were ever Queen." So, she had come to challenge you. "I like to make a habit of telling the truth, Lady Alys. I do not think I will stop now." Alys's nails scrapped the wooden chair. "You are ill. I doubt you shall last much longer. If you were to die in favour of the King she would be well looked after." "Of course she will. Princess Daenerys is the next Queen." Alys sneered. "My daughter is next in line." She sneered. "As mine once was. And look where she is now." With a stumbled Alys lurched to her feet. "Is that a threat!" She hissed. You simply took another sip of tea. "When you married the King you set a president. Now any woman must watch out, for another just might take her place. And all daughters must fear for their place. Tell me Alys. If you fare no better than I what shall become of yours?" Alys was struggling to breath. You gestured to the tea pot. Alys drank before slumping back into her chair. "If I can not do this....if I can not give him at least this." She mumbled. Pityingly, you looked at her. "There is much, you will find, you can not give a man who has the world at his feet.

Your death drew closer. By the hour of the wolf you knew this was the end. They had allowed you this moment of solitude. One last meal before you were tucked into bed. Your eyes had become hazy, your belly hurt. You could hear Floris's sobs as the minutes went by. "Oh Floris. You are so good to me." Your cold fingers brushed her head. Tears rolled down her face and onto the sheets as she prayed to the Seven. Despite everything you felt as peace. You had done your best. Gods willing your daughter would be Queen one day. Queen Daenerys Targaryen. The words sounded so sweet to you. "Floris, please get me some paper." Floris protested, saying you needed to rest. You simply smiled. "My Lady, I shall get plenty of sleep soon." Paper was brought and you drafter your last note.

My beloved daughter,

I hour of my death comes I leave if the knowledge that you will be protected. For even if my woes the thought of you in despair gives me greater sorrow than anything I could suffer. Daenerys, you must be strong. The path ahead will not be an easy one and I am so sorry there was little I could do. As a mother it is my greatest wish to ensure the happiness of my child. I want you to be happy. Know that even gone I watch over you. I have always loved you, more than any worldly riches. You may feel alone at times, but I want you to know my love for you will never die.

Be Strong. I love you.

Queen Y/n

Y/n's hand slackened and took lost consciousness. And as her final moments drifted by she thought of a beautiful girl with silver hair, wearing a crown.

Floris's wails heralded a new dawn.

Note: Two down, two to go! I know this was probably not the ending you guys wanted for the reader but its a much better one than Alys will get. Also y'all comparing Alys to Rashta from Remarried Empress had me cracking😂.

Taglist:

@watercolorskyy

[marauders-bs]

an inherently sad thing about pandalily

word count- 802

The first time Pandora Rosier realized she might have had an abnormal upbringing, she was eleven and serving detention for Professor McGonagall. She'd asked a question, followed immediately by not fighting just asking. After all, it was common in her house. Wouldn't want her parents to think she was being combative. McGonagall had looked at her a bit sideways, though. Like it was strange.

The second time, she'd been twelve and helping Lily Evans with her Astronomy in the dead of night. She’d said something about the time she'd painted the stars on her ceiling and her dad had painted over it. It was one of her “funnys” as Evan called them– just something stupid that made all the Skittles laugh. Lily, however, had been horrified.

The time it had really hit, Pandora had been fourteen. She’d been double DADA with the Gryffindors when the Unforgivables had been brought up.

“Can't you use Cruciates for, like, punishment?” Sirius Black had asked.

“I think you can, mate, that's what Dad always says,” Barty had agreed.

Pandora had nodded along with them. “Imperio as well, for punishment.”

Their professor – and most of the other students – had looked like Lily atop the Astronomy tower two years before. “No,” he’d said gently. “Never, under any circumstances, are those curses forgiven.”

Pandora had exchanged a look with Barty, both remembering the scars across their bodies. Maybe, Pandora thought, her parents had done something wrong.

When she was fifteen, on top of the Astronomy tower with Lily, Cassie, Marls, Andy, and Mary. Ali and Ciss left only a little bit before.

“Dora?” Lily asked, turning down to face Pandora. She wasn't too happy that the silence had been disrupted, but Lily was still running her fingers through Pandora’s hair.

“What's up, Lils?”

“I think you should stay with me over Christmas,” she said, not taking her hand from Pandora’s hair or her eyes from the stars. “I don’t want you going back to them.”

Pandora raised her eyes to Lily, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of ginger hair behind her ear. “I don't want to endanger you.”

Andy, who was finally seventeen and would be free of the Blacks imminently, cleared her throat. “I can help, if you want. Make the place Unplottable, or whatever.”

Lily looked down at Pandora, and she felt the weight of the love the people sitting on the Astronomy tower had for her

“Yeah,” Dora decided. “Yeah, Lils.”

At seventeen, Dora had to leave. She broke off from the Rosiers and went to live with her best friend and probably the one she'd end up marrying if only to piss off Evan– a Ravenclaw her age named Xenophilius.

Lily showed up at their door in August of ‘78, wedding ring sparkling on her finger in the moonlight.

“I’ll see you,” Dora told her, giving her a cup of tea and a kiss to take with her.

“I’ll see you,” Lils agreed, running a hand through her hair.

In 1980, Lily Potter disappeared with her husband, James, never to be seen alive again.

Dora was nearly mad with worry, the urge to begin blowing things up again almost unbearable.

But Dora promised Lils that she would keep herself out of trouble, and she had to do that. Especially once the letter came.

Dear Pandora,

I don't know if you remember me, but my name is Sirius. This letter will burn once you have read it, so my news – and likely the Potters’ lives – is safe with you.

Lily and James are still alive. Lily made me promise to write to you, I don't know why.

Please do not reply. They – and you, I hope – will be safe and hidden until the war is over.

Yours truly,

Sirius Black

And, quite suddenly, Dora had a reason to live again.

Twenty-year-old Dora sits in her sitting room with Xeno, baby Luna napping on the coffee table. An owl flies in through the window, open to let in the cold November air.

This time, however, the owl carries not a letter from a good friend of Lily’s, but a Daily Prophet containing a list of the dead, those in jail, and those still missing.

This time, the paper identifies Andromeda Tonks and Alice Longbottom as still missing, as well as their husbands.

This time, it claims that Bellatrix Lestrange and Barty Crouch Jr are Death Eaters, in addition to Sirius Black, the very boy who wrote to tell her Lils was safe.

This time, Evan Rosier, Regulus Black, Dorcas Meadows, Marlene McKinnon, James Potter, Peter Petegrew, and Lily Evans are on a list of the dead.

And that is what finally undoes all the healing Lily helped along. Pandora puts down the Prophet and heads upstairs. She wants nothing more than to blow something up.

[bookgeekgrrl]

My media this week (10-16 Dec 2023)

📚 STUFF I READ 📚

🥰 Second Chances in New Port Stephen (TJ Alexander, author; Aden Hakimi & Feodor Chin, narrator) - 2nd chance romance between 2 former HS sweethearts after Eli comes back home to his small FL home town (post-transition & unemployed due to proximity to an industry scandal) and reconnects with Nick (who left for college, came back, got married & divorced and became a (hot) dad). Also there is a fat ginger cat named Sweet Potato. I kind of love what a mess Eli is. Nick is also a bit of a mess but masking it better. I loved them both.

💖💖 +120K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖

The First Rule of Book Club series (Deisderium) - MCU: stucky, 28K - reread for stucky bookclub; a forever fave where recovering Bucky joins a book club - just a warm hug of a series, with a fantastic OC (unfortunately does have period-typical reading of HP but I was able to just focus on everything else)

tattoo your last bruise (ftmsteverogers) - MCU: stucky, 9K - great post-WS recover fic

Blood, Sweat, Ambrosia (AidaRonan) - Stranger Things: steddie, 4K - amazing gift of a monsterfucking fic. aida has truly blessed us this holiday season

📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺

Doctor Who: The Giggle (2023 special #3)

D20: Fantasy High: Sophomore Year - e8-15

🎧 PODCASTS 🎧

The Sporkful - How Do Michelin Stars Actually Work?

Pop Culture Happy Hour - Diddy, Hip-Hop, and #MeToo

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Ol Pejeta Rhino Cemetery

Our Opinions Are Correct - What Makes Us Quit Reading a Book in the Middle?

Today, Explained - A concrete solution to climate change

Wiser Than Me with Julia Louis-Dreyfus - Julia Gets Wise with Darlene Love

NPR's Book of the Day - Jordan Peele curates a new Black horror story collection 'Out There Screaming'

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Knoxville Weather Kiosk

Pop Culture Happy Hour - 2023 Pop Culture Favorites [love that D20's Dungeons & Drag Queens made this list!]

Switched on Pop - Nicki Minaj's Roman Empire

The Allusionist - 186. Ravels

It's Been a Minute - Music trends that took us by surprise in 2023

Shedunnit - The Murderless Christmas Mystery

Vibe Check - It’s Like an Inspirational Relay Race

⭐ 99% Invisible #563 - Empire of the Sum

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - New Bedford Whaling Museum

⭐ Off Menu - Ep 216: Dawn French (Christmas Special)

Twenty Thousand Hertz+ - Tournament of Champions

Ologies with Alie Ward - Quasithanatology (NEAR-DEATH EXPERIENCES) with Bruce Greyson

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Gourdlandia

One Year - 1990: Art on Trial

Sara & Cariad's Weirdos Book Club - Persuasion by Jane Austen with Andrew Hunter Murray

Not Another D&D Podcast - D&D Court: Sneaky Snowmen, Horny Dogs, and The PC vs The People’s Champion

Wiser Than Me with Julia Louis-Dreyfus - Julia Gets Wise with Rhea Perlman

Up First - Gaza Post-War Plans, Ohio Prosecutor Misconduct, Comer Shell Company

What Next: TBD - Shein’s Newest Offering? An IPO

Pop Culture Happy Hour - Wonka And What's Making Us Happy

Dear Prudence - I Rejected A Friend’s Sexual Advance—Now He’s Being Weird. Help!

Endless Thread - This song wants you to stick out your what!?

⭐ Welcome to Night Vale #240 - He Is Holding a Knife

Today, Explained - Why millennials dread motherhood

🎶 MUSIC 🎶

Classic Rock Instrumentals

Presenting Stevie Ray Vaughan

Presenting Santana

Dropkick Murphys Radio • Familiar

New Blue Sun [André 3000] {2023}

Throwback Workout

my christmas playlist

[cheesy-cakey]

note this is a hatter au from a wattpad book I wrote.

You Weren't there

Kalim X Reader Angst

We had graduated.

We got married.

He inherited his family's riches.

We had a son.

We were happy...

We WERE.

I gazed out the window of my quarters.

I was no longer a Hatter... I was now an Al-Asim.

The Hatter name had died out the moment I decided to be a part of Kalim's family. I still owned our land and property. But I had no use for it.

I thought that this was going be our happily ever after.

Holding the one I love close. Kalim embracing me and our son.

But I guess reality doesn't have a happy ending... Especially us Hatter's.

As I watched the scene out the window.

In the garden was Kalim... With his 2rd wife and daughter.

Yes, that's right. I may be Kalim's first wife... but that doesn't mean I'm the only one.

I watched as he held her hand while with the other he carried his daughter.

I moved away from the window and sat on the plush bed of my quarters.

"How could I be so stupid. How could I be so blind. why did I think... That out of all the people in the world. I would have a happy ending." I muttered to myself as I leaned back on my arms tears pricking out of my eyes.

I went back to the window watching them hold each other close. I traced my hand on the glass feeling the coolness of the material.

I kneeled on the floor hand on the window sill while the other was on the floor.

"If happy ever after did exist~" I sang as I wrapped my arms around myself.

"I would still be holding you like this~"

"All those fairy tales are full of sh*t"

"One more f*cking love song I'll be sick" I sobbed as I was never meant to have a happy ever after.

3rd POV

Little did Y/N know that someone came to visit.

Watching through the crack from the slightly opened door.

Ali Al-Asim watched as his mother broke down crying.

"Why... why of all people... why does it have to be mother that suffers?"

He walked away knowing that it's better to not disturb her like this... He knew seeing him would just remind her of the happy ending she could've had.

He returned to him quarters and sat in one of the chairs in his room.

"Mother... You shouldn't be suffering like this... You told me father loved you... You said he loved you more than the stars in the sky... then why... why does he treat you this way? why does he neglect you? weren't we happy? weren't you happy?" He leaned his head back as tears pricked out his eyes.

"I never get to see you smile anymore. The smile that could shine brighter than the sun. Your eyes became dull... no longer full of hope and happiness like the stars."

he slammed his first into the table Infront of him as tears fell from his face.

"WHY DON'T YOU HAVE A HAPPY EVER AFTER!?"

The 15 year old couldn't bear to see his mother like this...

He's seen her cry too many times...

-Time Skip-

It was Ali's 16th birthday.

Which means a big celebration...

But his mother as much as she wants to attend she couldn't bring herself to leave her room.

The Hatter that used to be full of life, laughing, singing, dancing. The Hatter that enjoyed parties and seeing her friends smile... lost her spark.

-At the celebration-

"Happy Birthday, Young Master, Ali!" The servants cheered.

"Happy birthday, My son!" Kalim exclaimed as he greeted his first born.

"Thank you, Father!" Ali exclaimed with a smile.

"You're 16 now, which school do you wanna attend, Ali!?" His father asked excitedly.

"I want to go to Night Raven College! That's where you went to right, Father?"

"Yes, I did! Me and your uncle Jamil went there together!"

"Then it's settled, NRC it is!"

"I could have the headmaster make you dorm head as well!"

"No, Father. I wish to become dorm head with my own skills." He stated.

"Haaaah? fine, if that is what my son wants. Now everyone! enjoy the party!"

he walked away as he went to meet other guests.

A lot of people were here. His uncles from NRC. His Friends. even his half sister.

But there was only one person Ali wanted to be here.

Ali stood up from his seat and sneaked away.

He went to the quarters of someone he held dear.

he knocked on the door and heard a come in.

"Good evening, mother" he said with a soft smile.

"Ah! Ali, Happy Birthday" She replied with a tired but loving smile.

she was sitting by the window with it being wide open allowing the wind to enter.

He went closer the his mother and kneeled beside her.

"How are you feeling?" Ali asked.

"I'm feeling very well. So how is your birthday?"

"Nevermind the birthday. I just want to stay here with you" he said as he buried his face into her dress resting his head on her lap.

The lady giggled at her son's statement, watching him with caring eyes.

"I have a present for you" She said as she brought out a box.

Ali raised his head.

"Mother... you didn't have to" he said as he received it.

"Oh, but I do. this is something I've been meaning to give you"

Ali opened the box to see a top hat, a golden silk snake wrapping around the hat with a single Jasmine flower.

"It used to be mine. Sometimes in the Hatter family we give it to the person we marry but sometimes we also keep it. But this time it's time to pass it on to the descendant. I redecorated it for you. do you like it?" The elegant lady smiled as she remembered her memories with the hat and proud to be able to hand it down.

Ali looked as the hat.

"I love it... thank you mother" He thanked as he lied down on her lap once again.

"I'm glad you do, my dear son" She placed a hand on his white hair exactly the same as his father's.

Sher stroked his head gently as the moon shone down on them through the window.

-Timeskip-

It was now time for Ali to go to Night Raven College. He said farewell to everyone and as he was about to get on the Ebony Carriage he looked up to a window to see his mother smiling at him. he smiled back and entered.

-at the dorm sorting-

Ali was up next to be sorted.

"State thy name"

"Ali Al-Asim"

"The shape of thy soul... I see you best improve in Scarabia."

He stepped away from the mirror and joined the other students that were sorted into Scarabia.

He will make his mother proud.

-Time skip-

It had been a week since he had arrived. And just like that he had became a dorm head not from money but from skill.

He was currently in potions taught by Professor Crewel.

His phone then suddenly rang.

"Excuse me, Professor. I need to take this call"

"Of course, pup. but next time I won't be allowing it."

Ali answered his phone and it was one of the servants.

He was analysing his potion while he answered.

"What is it? I told you not to call me around this time because I'm in class."

"Apologies, young master. But it's about Lady Y/N"

"Mother? what about her? does she miss me? tell her I'll visit this weekend."

"It's not that sir"

"what is it then?"

"she umm"

"spit it out"

"The lady has passed away"

Ali suddenly dropped the beaker shattering it to a million pieces.

"Al-Asim! bad pup! what are you doing!?"

Ali stood up knocking his seat over. He slammed his hand on his desk that still had the shattered glass and spilled potion. good thing that the potion doesn't give much effect since it wasn't finished.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN PASSED AWAY!?" He yelled as tears pricked from his eyes.

"Al-Asim?" his professor called out worried.

"I mean what I exactly said, young master. The lady passed away earlier this morning. when the servant went to serve her breakfast she didn't wake up. they tried waking her up then realized she wasn't moving. they called a physician... and he said the lady had passed away"

"no... you're lying"

"Ali Al-Asim, what's wrong? Get your hands off the desk your starting to bleed." Crewel said as he took the boys hand from the broken glass and started cleaning it.

"Mother... is she really dead?"

"yes, sir"

"wait... your mother?" his professor asked

"As in... Y/N? she's... no longer with us?" his eyes wide as saucers.

Ali fell on his knees tears spilling not showing any signs of stopping any time soon.

"Mother... no... no... no no no NO! SHE CAN'T BE GONE!" He sobbed.

"Ashengrotto, take him to the infirmary to clean his wound up. The rest of you dismissed. I need to speak with the head master."

"Yes, professor"

-time Skip-

currently Ali was in the head masters office.

"Al-Asim. I heard what had happened. I'll let you go home for as long as you need. I apologize for your loss. You can use the mirror to go home." Crowley said as he watched the boy sob.

he himself wanted to cry since one of the most lovable students he had, had passed away.

"Your mother... was an incredible woman. Not only as a student but as a friend to the rest. It's a shame she... had to leave us so early. I thought that maybe... I'd be dead by the time she leaves."

"Thank you, headmaster... I'll be... heading out now" Ali exited the room and went to the mirror and went home.

Once he had arrived he was greeted by the servants but he just walked right pass.

His sister also greeted him, but he continued walking.

soon he arrived at his mother's bedroom. He saw her... looking like she's sleeping soundly... knowing she's never waking up again.

He walked to her bed side. held her now cold hand and feel to his knees and sobbed uncontrollably

"Mother!... Why.... WHY DID YOU HAVE TO LEAVE! I WAS GOING TO GIVE YOU THE HAPPY ENDING YOU DESERVE! BUT WHAT!? YOU ENDED YOUR STORY WITH LONGING THAT WAS NEVER FULFILLED!? WHY!?" he cried... not leaving her side for the rest of the day.

During her funeral, all her friends from NRC came. Tears spilled everywhere as they found their dear friend no longer with them.

they approached Ali who just stood by her coffin.

"Sorry... for your loss... Ali"

He just kept silent.

For the long duration of her funeral... Not once did his father... the man his dear mother loved and longed for, show up.

This had made the boy even more upset. but that did not overpower the sorrow he had.

-Time Skip-

The funeral had long ended...

His mother was buried...

he returned to school but barely spoke.

"Al-Asim... pup. I suggest you go meet with Professor Yuu. You need it"

Ali merely nodded as he went to his magicless professor who taught about monsters and health.

"Ali... take a seat"

Ali sat down across him.

"You haven't been sleeping have you... you have bags under your eyes. You look pale. Ali"

He just sat there.

"I know... I know you're depressed... Your mother was my vice prefect back in our school days. she was a wonderful woman to be with... she laughed... she sang... she smiled... but you know what I love most about her?"

Ali looked up and looked at Yuu.

"She makes people around her smile as well. She wouldn't want you to act like this. Y/N, She too lost a parent in her younger days. But that didn't stop her from being happy... She always had joy in her eyes... and you know you have her E/C eyes as well"

"So please... Don't let this bring you down. Your mother... Be like her. someone who smiles, laughed and most of all makes others do the same. sure reality doesn't have a happy ending. But you're writing your own story so make sure it leads to one."

Ali thought about it. looks back down... looks at the mirror in the room and looked straight into his E/N coloured eyes.

"You're right, Professor. Even if mother is gone... I should make her proud" Ali stood up with smile.

Ali bowed.

"Thank you, Professor Yuu!"

"Just call me, Yuu."

Ali smiled and ran off back to his dorm and to his room.

Yuu on the other hand stood up and went to the window and looked at the sky.

"I wish... I could've held you one last time... Y/N... I loved you so much" Yuu said as he let the tears fall.

Ali pulled a box from under his bed and opened it...

It may not fit his outfit but it doesn't matter.

he stood up holding the object and went to a mirror.

He looked straight at it and placed the hat he was given on his head.

"I'll prove... that I can give us a happy ending, Mother"

and with that Ali changed... He changed for the better. all the old staff watched him... and it reminded them of someone who they once cherished in this school.

-Time Skip-

it's been 2 years since Y/N's passing. Ali Al-Asim was now 18 years old. A third year.

But what's interesting is. when his 1st year ended the mirror had announced something... He was transferred to a different dorm.

-Flashback-

Just as they were all about to leave.

"Wait... It seems someone's soul had reshaped into something new." the mirror had stated.

"What? but that's not possible" Crowley said in surprise.

"Ali Al-Asim... Step forward"

Ali hesitantly stepped up.

"Yes... it seems your soul had reshaped... though you are still suited to be a part of Scarabia... Your heart... Is perfect for the Ramshackle Dorm"

"Isn't that"

"Your mother's old dorm... well it seems like you're becoming just like your mother" Crowley smiled as he placed a hand on the boys shoulder.

-end of flashback-

And since then he became the dorm head of the Ramshackle. His hat suited his outfit. he was happy.

And right now the 18 year old was going to make a decision that'll change his life.

Currently standing Infront of his father, Kalim Al-Asim. wearing a somewhat butler outfit somewhat similar to that of what his mother wore back in her younger days as a Hatter.

"Father... I don't wish to be an Al-Asim anymore."

"What? could you repeat that?"

"I don't want to be an Asim."

"But son! you're my eldest! you're my successor!"

"And I don't want to be your successor!"

"why!?"

"I want to continue mother's legacy!" Ali yelled as he gripped his wrist behind his back while looking down.

"what?"

"I want to be a Hatter! I want to carry on the Hatter name! I want to do this for mother! it the least you could let me do"

"the least I could let you do?"

"Yes! The most you could do was probably be there for her!"

"Ali"

"You left her all alone! making her cry every night! every night for you!"

"She didn't get her happily ever after! Cause you weren't there there for her! you weren't there for us!HECK She would've been contented with just you being there even if you didn't love her anymore!"

"YOU DIDN'T EVEN COME TO HER FUNERAL!" Ali snapped.

"I know you are aware that You're naive, gullible, oblivious and all that. but please... just see it... the least you could do" Ali looked up and looked Kalim straight in the eyes.

Kalim staring back into E/C colored orbs that was exactly the same as his wife that had recently passed away.

He looked down and took a deep breathe

"Alright"

"Huh?"

"I'll... let you go..."

"Really?"

"yes... as you said... it's the least I could do for not even attending the funeral."

"Thank you... father" Ali smiled as he walked away.

this was a new start for Ali... Becoming just like his mother. Writing a happily ever after for them.

We can't say the same for Kalim though.

He sat at his chair.

His 2rd wife entered the room and sat beside him.

"What did he want?" she asked.

"To leave the family"

"what?"

"He... wanted to become a Hatter to continue Y/N's legacy."

"I see... don't worry I'm here... and besides I'm sure we can make a new heir."

"I'm not in the mood"

"But, dear~"

right then and there Kalim snapped.

"I SAID IM NOT IN THE MOOD!" He yelled.

"BECAUSE OF YOUR DAMN FAMILY THREATENING TO HURT MY SON AND MY BELOVED WIFE I WAS FORCED TO NEGLECT HER!"

"IF IT WASN'T FOR YOUR DAMN FAMILY I WOULD PROBABLY BE HOLDING HER RIGHT NOW WITH ANOTHER CHILD!"

"ALL BECAUSE YOU WANTED ME TO LOVE YOU! YOU'RE DELUSIONAL IF YOU THINK I WOULD!"

"What is it... WHAT IS IT DOES SHE HAVE THAT I DON'T!?"

"My heart... that's what it is... SHE WAS MY EVERYTHING! HER SMILE THAT WAS PRACTICALLY MY SUN! HER EYES THAT SHIMMERED LIKE THE STARS!"

"SHE DESERVES TO BE DEAD! SHE'S NOT FIT TO BE YOUR WIFE! SHE'S NOT FIT TO HAVE YOU! ME, ME, ME! IT WAS ME WHO SHOULD HAVE YOU! SHE'S HIDEOUS! SHE'S DUMB! SHE'S NAIVE! SO WHY WON'T YOU LOOK AT ME!"

"DON'T YOU DARE THAT ABOUT HER! FIRST OF ALL SHE'S THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN TO HAVE EVER EXISTED THAT EVEN VIL SAID SO! YOU WOULD NEVER BE AS BEAUTIFUL AS HER! SECOND SHE GRADUATED FROM NRC WITH TOP GRADES FITTING INTO THE TOP 50! SHE KNOWS MORE THAN YOU EVER WILL! AND THIRD OF ALL SHE'S NOT AS NAIVE AS YOU THINK! SHE EXPERIENCED THE CRUELTY OF THE WORLD TO THE POINT SHE WAS ALMOST BROKEN! BUT SHE JUST SMILED AND SAID THAT EVERYTHING WOULD BE JUST FINE! I BET YOU WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HANDLE IT IF IT HAD HAPPENED TO YOU! FACE IT I'LL NEVER LOOK AT YOU THE SAME I DO WITH HER!"

"THAT'S WHY I KILLED HER SO YOU WOULD ONLY LOOK AT ME- MPH!" she clasped her mouth shut trembling from what came out.

"what? WHAT did you just say?"

"n-nothing!"

"WE HAD A DEAL! YOU WOULD LEAVE THEM ALONE IN EXCHANGE FOR ALL OF THIS!"

"I-I didn't mean to!"

"DIDN'T MEAN TO MY *SS! AS IF I'D BELIEVE THAT! JAMIL!"

Soon Jamil entered the room. in truth he was about to enter till he heard screaming and heard the entire thing.

"Yes, Kalim"

"Take her away. make her confess EVERYTHING that she had done. After that could you call Azul? I want to have a talk with him to deal with something."

"Yes, of course" Jamil left with the 2nd wife being taken away by guards.

"WAIT! KALIM PLEASE! I LOVE YOU! DON'T DO THIS TO ME!"

As they all left the room Kalim sat down and tears started running down his face.

"Why was I so stupid? thinking I could protect you without having to hurt anyone but as a result I ended up hurting you... then lost you. I should've dealt with them from the start. I should've just been there for you... now I not only lost you... but I lost our son too... haha! why am I so stupid?"

For the rest of the night Kalim just cried. knowing can never bring you back.

-END-

"isn't that an interesting timeline."

"Didn't know that there would be a bad ending to their story. I hope this timeline won't stick it would be so sad~" a voice said as she closed a book that's titled 'You Weren't there'

soon the book started to become grains of sand.

"oh? what is this?"

"The timeline is disintegrating"

"I guess that means that story won't be sticking around."She then pushed up her glasses as she looked back at the millions of books being written each having a pen that glows with inspiration and life."I wonder who's story would be finished next~ would the story disappear? or will it be part of the official collection?"

"Let's see what endings are in-store~ After all"

"I am the story keeper~"

[ladydimitrescuspet]

Your Friend, My Friend, Our Friend

ao3 link! listen, I started this at 6am, but I fell asleep before finishing it. I'm not proud of it, it's kind of messy, but please enjoy and tell me what you think. as always sorry for any grammatical errors!

Request: Can you do a platonic reader x the Dimitrescu daughters? Where reader is busy talking to the other maids and the three of them are jealous they might steal away their friend? - I hope I delivered on this request, and apologies if I didn't, I did my best!

***

“This has to be the best thing I’ve tasted, Ellie.” You replied as you ate a piece of pie. The way the flavours of it melted in your mouth made your eyes close as you let out a small moan.

Ellie was blushing at your compliment. “Oh, really? Do you think the Lady and her daughters will like the one I’ve prepared for them?” She asked.

You nodded your head. “Definitely. And if they don’t then more pie for me.” You pushed the plate into the direction of another maid. “You have to taste it, Rebecca. I don’t think my opinion alone will convince her of what I said.” You playfully nudged Ellie.

The three of you continued to converse until one of Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters walked in. “Y/N? What are you doing in here with… them?” Daniela asked as she eyed the maids. “I thought you’d be in the library or Mother’s study.”

“I just came down here to see what Ellie and Rebecca were preparing for dinner.” You replied. “I’m a mere distraction to them, but I like being in the kitchen, Dani.” Your stomach growled at that comment causing the two maids to laugh.

Rebecca patted your belly. “We should get some food in there since you like being in the kitchen so much.” She rolled her eyes at bit with her comment.

Daniela huffed. “You said we’d work out in the garden today.” A small scowl had appeared on her face.

You smiled at her. “And we will, but not right now. I’ll come and find you later, okay? Promise.” You ran your hand down her, but Daniela just brushed you off before storming out causing you to frown.

“Is she okay?” Ellie asked. You sighed and shrugged your shoulders. “If it’s any consolation, we love it when you come down to the kitchen. It’s nice to be around someone who knows the Lady and her daughters, someone who’s not constantly paranoid about being taken to the cellar and being turned into wine.”

You nodded your head. “I understand. I do appreciate that.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’m just, I’m worried about Daniela. I should go talk to her.” You said.

“You definitely should but eat first. I made you a sandwich and I won’t let my hard work go to waste, Y/N.” Rebecca said, setting the sandwich down in front of you.

You smiled at her. You let Ellie and Rebecca continue their dinner preparation as you ate. “I will see the both of you later tonight for game night, yeah?” The two nodded at you before you all shared your goodbyes and you set off.

“Bela, you should’ve seen how close they were getting with them. Talking and laughing. One of them even patted their stomach when it did that weird growling thing.” You overheard Daniela say to her sister.

“Y/N has been hanging around with the maids a lot as of late.” Cassandra said. “You don’t think we did something wrong, do you?”

Bela was quick to shake her head. “No, no, they’re just making new friends.” Bela said, try to give them some reassurance.

“Yeah, to replace us.” Daniela said. “They never hang out with us anymore. Any time we see them they’re either with those two maids in the kitchen or with Mother.”

Your heart broke a bit hearing their conversation. Bela was right, you were just trying to make friends, but you weren’t trying to replace them as Daniela had suggested. You would’ve interrupted their conversation, but you could hear Alcina’s heels coming from down the hall. You moved away from the room where her daughters were and went to go catch up to her.

“Ali, wait up!” You called out to her making her stop and turn around to you. “Hi.” You let out as you panted slightly.

Alcina smiled at you. “Hello, little one. What are you doing wandering the halls at this time? I thought you’d be enjoying a nice nap, yes?” Alcina asked.

You flushed. “How do you know about my afternoon naps?” You asked as the two of you walked. Your question made Alcina chuckle. “Ali, how do you know?” You whined at her a bit.

“Cassandra informed me, if you must truly know.” Alcina replied. “It was in passing. Something about a maid reading to you while you dosed off, mentioned that it happens almost every day.”

“Oh.” You scratched the back of your head. “She didn’t mention how she found us, did she?” You asked.

Alcina hummed. “It’s quite alright if you cuddle with your friends, dear.” Alcina said. You let out a small breath at her approval. “Don’t worry, draga mea, I don’t get jealous easy. Besides, I’m glad that you’re making friends with the staff.”

“I… thank you, Ali.” You said when she patted your head affectionately. “Speaking of jealous, I don’t think your daughters are too keen on me being friends with Ellie and Rebecca.”

Alcina raised her eyebrow as she pushed open the door to her study. “Oh? Do share why, darling.” She said as she sat down in her chair.

You waited for her to pick you up and set you down on the desk. “I overheard them talking before I found you.” You explained a bit. “They think I’m trying to replace them or at least Daniela does.”

“She does?” Your Lady asked. You nodded your head. “Well, then I suppose you’ll have to find a way to fix that.” She shuffled some papers around on her desk before putting her pen to use.

You pouted, mostly at not having her undivided attention. “But how do I do that?” You asked, a small whine escaping past your lips.

“Invite them to your little game night.” You let out a small gasp at her words. “Darling, you should know by now that nothing goes unheard of by me in this castle.” You could tell she found your reaction amusing and you pouted more.

You mulled her idea over while she worked, watching as her pen moved across her paper. “Would they like game night?” You asked. “They won’t tr-“

“I’ll talk to them, they’ll be on their best behaviours around your friends. And if they aren’t, do let me know, darling.” Alcina flashed you a small smile before going back to their work. You watched her work in silence again before you tapped her shoulder. “Yes, little one?”

You flushed at the nickname, ducking your head from her gaze. “Um, would you… like to join?” You asked.

Alcina placed her hand near your thigh as she leaned forward. “The offer is appreciated, Y/N, but I am very, very busy right now. I’ve really no time for such trivial distraction, but you enjoy yourself and tell me all about it when you return to me.” Alcina replied before she backed away and continued to write.

Your breathing had quickened a bit at how close she’d just been to you. “Next time then?” You tried as a reply.

“Of course, next time.” Alcina replied absentmindedly. “As much as I appreciate your company, I need you to leave. I have a phone call with Mother Miranda to make and I don’t believe it will be a pleasant one, my dear.”

You nodded your head and Alcina helped you off her desk. “I’ll see you later, Ali.” You said before exiting the room, shutting the door behind you.

Your game night with Ellie and Rebecca was a few hours away so you took that time to plan an extra special one for the Lady’s daughters to enjoy. When you’d gone over the details with Ellie and Rebecca, they agreed to make some snacks that the three might like. You went to find Daniela shortly after.

“Hey Dani, ready to go garden?” You asked as you found her in the library.

Daniela looked up from her book before glancing out the window. “It’s too dark out now and it’s probably raining.” She replied before focusing on her book again.

“Oh. Well did your Mother talk to you?” You asked.

“About game night?” You nodded your head. “Yeah. Not interested, but thanks for the offer.”

You let out a small sigh. “It was actually your Mother’s idea, she thought it might help bond more, grow my friendship with the three of you. But I’d really like it if you came, Dani.” You left the library before she had the chance to reply.

You walked around aimlessly, thinking about going back to Alcina’s study, but apparently she was still on the phone. Cassandra and Bela were avoiding you like the plague, dispersing into swarms whenever the three of you got near each other. After a while, it was dinner time. It was a quiet dinner, no doubt due to the tension between you and the Lady’s daughters.

Alcina cleared her throat. “Girls, you will be attending Y/N’s game night. You may not want to go, but it’ll do you some good to learn how to interact with our staff, get to know them better. They can’t all be used for your little cat and mouse games.”

Daniela whined. “But Mot-“

“I won’t hear your excuses, Daniela, darling. Y/N has planned a wonderful night just for the three of you and their friends and it would be rude of you not to go.” Alcina replied, taking a sip of her wine.

Daniela frowned and crossed her arms. “They’re just going to flaunt their new friends in our faces. Making sure we get a good look at who our replacements are. They never spend time with us so why would we go and spend time with them?” Daniela asked.

“Dani, I’m no-“ Cassandra cut you off.

“Don’t push her, Y/N. You may have had good intentions with this offer, but it seems like you’re only doing it to get back in our good graces. But I’m afraid it’s not working.” Cassandra said.

You looked over at Alcina who was busy nursing her wine, trying to keep herself calm. You nodded your head at Cassandra. “I’m sorry. I’d like to be excused if I may.” You said before standing from the table and rushing out of the room.

Alcina snapped her fingers. “You two are insufferable.” She practically growled out. “The fact that you think Y/N would ever want to replace you is ridiculous. Just because they have made more friends does not mean that they’re giving you the boot.” Alcina explained.

Bela spoke up this time. “I tried to tell that, Mother. They wouldn’t listen to me.” Bela said. “But you have to admit, that the timing of such an offer is suspicious.”

“The suggestion was mine, dear Bela.” Alcina snapped. “Now, it would do you all some good to find Y/N and apologise or so help me, Mother Miranda, you will regret not doing so.” Alcina threatened before she got up from the table.

The three rose from the table in a chorus of “Yes, Mother” before setting off to find you. They weren’t surprised to find you in a room with Ellie and Rebecca, but it did cause another frown to grace Daniela’s face.

You sniffled when you looked up at them when Bela cleared her throat. “What do you want?” You asked.

“You really shouldn’t be here right now.” Ellie said.

“Ellie’s right, you’ve put Y/N through enough for today.” Rebecca added.

You shook our head. “No, it’s… it’s fine. Say what you have to say.” You said.

Cassandra spoke first. “Mother told us that we should apologise.”

“Yes, she did. So we’re here to apologies for our behaviour. Right, Daniela?” Bela nudged her sister.

Daniela hissed at her before turning her attention to you. “Mother did send us off to apologise to you.” Daniela said. “So I’m sorry for saying that you were trying to replace us. I hope you can forgive me, Y/N.”

You stood up, walked over to Daniela and hugged her, to her surprise. “Of course I forgive you.” You whispered into her ear. Your reply made Daniela wrap her arms around you and return the hug. “I should apologise too.” You said as the hug ended. “I made you all feel like I was choosing Ellie and Rebecca over you three and I’m sorry. I never intended for you to feel like I was trying to replace any of you.”

Bela smiled at you. “You’re forgiven, Y/N. In all honesty, I’m glad you’re making more friends.”

Cassandra nodded in agreement. “Now that that’s settled, Mother mentioned game night and I’m told there are snacks.”

You laughed at her. “Yes, we have snacks and games. Please join us before I send Ellie and Rebecca off to bed.” You replied.

“Hey! On game nights, there’s no curfew.” Ellie said, pushing your shoulder slightly when you sat next to her.

The six of you played a multitude of games. And you found out that Daniela doesn’t like it when someone beats her in something, especially her sisters and she claims that they cheat to beat her. You all finally called it a night when Rebecca let out a small yawn.

“As much as this been, I think it’s time for us to call it a night.” Rebecca said. “Thank you for joining us tonight, it was fun playing with the three of you.” She tossed a smile toward the Lady’s daughters.

The three girls escorted you to their Mother’s room after you all said goodbye to Ellie and Rebecca.

“Thank you for having us tonight, Y/N.” Daniela said. “Your friends seem really nice and as Rebecca said, it was fun playing with you all tonight.”

“Group hug?” The four of you hugged each other, giggling when Daniela caused you all to fall on the floor.

“And what, pray tell, is going on here?” Alcina asked, a small smile on her face.

“Group hug.” The four of you said in unison. You and Alcina bid the girls good night before she guided you into the room.

“So how was game night, dear?” Alcina asked as the two of you settled into bed.

You snuggled into her side before letting out a sigh. “It was very fun, thank you for suggesting it, Ali.”

Alcina hummed “You’re welcome, draga mea. Now rest, you’ve had such a long day.” Alcina said before pressing a kiss to your forehead and drifting off to sleep next to you.

[ikeromantic]

Bonding

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic, approx. 1800 words. This scene takes place well after the events of the Romantic Epilogue as part of my post-route headcanon storyline.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: In the Spotlight

Mitsuhide sat on the edge of a stuffed chair, a ‘sofa’, across from his little one’s father. Minoru, for his part, didn’t look any more comfortable with the company. Neither of them said anything. Mitsuhide found that his usual silver tongue had run out of witticisms when faced with the twin challenge of a world 500 years in the future and the need to impress the father of his beloved.

In the kitchen, the chatelaine and her mother Youko were making dinner. Their lively chatter was the only sound as the two men studied each other.

Finally, Minoru cleared his throat. “So. How did you two meet?”

“The answer to that would require additional explanation. Suffice it to say, I met her in the course of my work. Initially, she was a responsibility of mine. To train her so that she knew enough to stay ali- ah, safe.” Mitsuhide smiled. “She was quite a handful.”

Minoru frowned. “Safe? Safe from what? What kind of business are you in?” He leaned forward.

“Intelligence and information gathering.” He silently thanked Sarutobi for the modern words to describe being a spy and torturer.

“You work for a government?”

Mitsuhide nodded. “That is a good way to put it. Yes. For a government.”

His little mouse poked her head through the door. “Everything going ok, you two?”

Both men cleared their expressions and smiled over at her. “Yes,” they replied, almost in unison.

Her bright smile lit up the room. “I’m so glad. I wanted you two to get along. Anyway, dinner is almost ready!” She disappeared again and the smiles the two men wore faded like snow under a noon-day sun.

Minoru turned back to Mitsuhide. “How did my daughter get tangled up with some government agent? She designs clothes. She left for a job in fashion.” His voice is strained, half a year’s worth of worry and frustration pushing at the seams of his soul.

Mitsuhide nodded. “She is amazing at making clothing. That is a career she continues to pursue. But I met her the night she pulled my superior from a burning building. Had she not arrived when she did, he would have died.”

“My baby girl . . . pulled a man from a burning building?” Minoru’s eyebrows shot up, his expression one of incredulous disbelief.

“Yes, and after, he thought she should stay with our forces. For her protection and because he believed there was something special about her.” Mitsuhide’s thin smile reappeared. “He wasn’t wrong. She is very special. A wonder.”

Minoru coughed. “Well, yes, but . . . a burning building? She isn’t, that is, she wouldn’t just -”

Mitsuhide leaned forward. “You know her from her childhood. If she knew someone was going to burn to death and she had a chance to save them, would she leave them to die? Is it so unbelievable?”

He shook his head slowly. He knew his daughter was exactly the kind of girl to put herself at risk for another. “I should not be surprised. When she was five, she ran out into the street to stop traffic for a kitten. Almost got hit by a car. And it wasn’t until after the cat was safe that she even realized how close she came to dying.”

Both men chuckled.

“That sounds exactly like something my little mouse would do.”

Minoru scowled. “Your what?”

“A nickname,” Mitsuhide waved the comment off.

And then the call came for dinner. They all sat down around the table. A spread of familiar and strange foods that piqued Mitsuhide’s curiosity. He wondered which of these his beloved had made, and which her mother. To be safe, he thought, it would be wise to compliment every dish.

“So,” her mother began after everyone was served. “My daughter tells me you’re a warlord working for Oda Nobunaga?”

Mitsuhide choked in surprise, the bite of food sticking in his throat. He glanced at his little mouse for confirmation.

“It just sort of popped out while we were talking.”

With effort and a glass of water, Mitsuhide swallowed and cleared his throat. “I didn’t expect to bring this up until after dinner, but yes.”

Minoru scowled. “You’re telling me you work for a man 500 years dead?”

“I don’t know, he seemed pretty lively last time I saw him,” Mitsuhide quipped.

His little mouse grinned. “Papa, be nice! I told you, we will tell you everything.” She took a deep breath. “It started the day I arrived in Kyoto. I went sightseeing . . .”

Mitsuhide listened as attentively as her parents, this version of the tale filling in gaps and details he hadn’t known. Her timely rescue of Sasuke Sarutobi, her run-in with the forces from Kasugayama. It appeared his little one was better at keeping secrets that he’d credited.

Through the story, her mother made little sounds of agreement or surprise, but Minoru was deathly silent. His expression turned darker at every part until he couldn’t hold back anymore. “This sounds like some ridiculous cartoon! You can’t expect your mother and I to buy this. Tell the truth! What is he, some mafia? A gambler? What?”

Youko frowned at him from across the table. “Now you just hush and eat your food. If our little girl says this is what happened, I believe her. She has no reason to lie. She knows we support her no matter what. Don’t we, dear?”

Minoru’s brows lowered. “You can’t be serious. This, this man shows up with our daughter after months with no word! Not a letter! Not a post card! With this crazy story and we’re supposed to just -”

“Accept it. You know as well as I do that if our girl didn’t write or call, it’s because she couldn’t. When you think of it that way, it makes perfect sense.” Youko nodded to emphasize her point. “Besides, when have you ever known her to lie.”

“She’s terrible at that,” Mitsuhide added drily.

Minoru’s scowl deepened. “Don’t talk like you know her. Maybe you drugged her or something, and now she thinks all that is true.”

Mitsuhide sighed. He’d expected this kind of reaction after Sasuke and his little one explained what ‘meeting the parents’ entailed. He was beginning to wish he could have simply sent some gifts and a contract, or better yet, left that to Nobunaga and simply married the girl. “We did bring some proof with us today, and we have friends tomorrow who can vouch for everything.”

Youko gave Mitsuhide an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you go get it? I’m sure it will make Mino a little less grouchy.”

“I’m not grouchy,” Minoru grumbled.

“You are, papa. But it’s ok. This is really all my fault. I wish I’d been able to call you both. I missed you so much.”

Her father swallowed whatever he’d planned to say, touched by his daughter’s affection.

Mitsuhide went to their bags and grabbed his sword and the clothes he’d arrived in. He carried them back to the dining area. These were unlikely to be enough, he thought, but it wasn’t as if they’d planned to be swept to this time that night.

“Our clothes -” he set them down, “and my sword.”

Minoru poked at the clothing, unimpressed. The sword, however, got his attention. “This . . . it isn’t just some decorative piece . . .” The words were quiet, said more to himself than anyone.

Still, Mitsuhide answered. “No. That blade has taken many lives.”

“And saved some too,” his little mouse added. “Mine included.”

Minoru looked between the two of them. “Maybe you’ve both lost your minds. This thing -” He pointed at the sword, “is clearly an antique, but that proves nothing.”

“You are so stubborn,” Youko huffed.

Mitsuhide was beginning to see where his little one got that quality. Sweetness from her mother, stubbornness from her father. It made him smile.

***

Miyake and Sasuke sat at a nearby bar, drinks in hand.

“So this is called karaoke?” Miyake eyed the screen with words that moved and then emptied his sake cup. “And I can sing whatever I want?”

“Not whatever. I doubt they have any songs you know on file. But I think the enjoyment quotient will still be high.” Sasuke began tapping through the song selection, his expression focused. He stopped when he came across one with the image of a pink-faced girl. “This one.”

Miyake shrugged. “Alright.”

The music started. It sounded nothing like the instruments Miyake knew, or the rhythms and beats that were familiar to him. Still, he could pick out the melody, and it was nice - if strange.

The first word on the screen lit up and Sasuke started singing. His voice was surprisingly pleasant, even though the lyrics were senseless.

Miyake joined him on the next verse, nodding to the beat. It was a cheerful tune, he thought. Perfect to drink to. He poured another glass for himself and the ninja.

They emptied that and another as the song ended. The next pick was Miyake’s. He chose one based on the picture, a cute girl in a ridiculously short skirt.

“This is the theme song for my favorite anime,” Sasuke grinned.

“Then I picked a good one?”

Sasuke patted his arm. “A great one.”

Two hours later, both of them were too drunk to walk straight. Their singing got louder as their ability to pronounce the lyrics dwindled.

“Todokete atsuku naru omi . . .” The song dissolved into drunken laughter.

Miyake threw an arm around Sasuke. “Y-you’re my besht - besht fren.”

Sasuke leaned into the hug. “N-now I have two! Two besht frienz - friends.” He grinned but the expression slid into a sad frown.

“Wha - what ish it?” Miyake peered at the ninja’s face. “Need more sake?”

“I - I wish my other fren wash here,” Sasuke hiccuped. “An Shingen. I wash goin- going to take him to a hoshpital.”

Miyake nodded, though he didn’t understand. “Maybe nexsht time?”

“If he livesh,” Sasuke sighed.

“To Shingen,” Miyake poured them another round of sake. “And nexsht time!”

They drank to the toast.

Sasuke poured another. “And to friendsh we lef-left behind.”

They drank to that too.

After several more toasts that grew further away from the original point - to short skirts and lady’s stockings, to coffee, to the karaoke bar - the two men finally paid their tab and stumbled to the hotel.

Miyake nearly puked on the elevator, as the movement made his stomach flip. He would have taken the stairs, if he thought he could find the steps. He leaned on Sasuke as they walked down the hall. It felt like their room was miles away.

Sarutobi fumbled with the lock, and when the door opened, they fell inside.

Between leaning on each other and the walls, they managed to stand again.

“I’m go-gonna shower,” Miyake mumbled.

“Me nexsht,” Sasuke agreed. He tripped toward the beds and fell into the nearest one, face first.

Miyake made it to the shower, but didn’t manage to turn it on. He slumped to the floor and leaned his head back on the cool tiles, falling into a deep sleep.

Next: Middle Ground

[nyotasaimiri]

Arc Two (redux) 35

((We met Arkadis briefly in Arc One; now we get to see him comfortable and relaxed instead of stressed and ready to fight. He’s fun to write, almost as scatter-brained as I am))

Lumen leaned close to Nyota as Aly fired up the odd communication array. “Somethin’ wrong, Captain?” he asked softly. “Sonny says ya ‘flickered’ when the ol’ gal mentioned this Arkadis fella.”

Nyota shook her head and forced herself not to dismiss the question. “I knew someone by that name, a long time ago.”

“Ah.” Lumen put a warm hand on her arm, and she knew that both of them were feeling the full weight of his age in that moment. “Brought back memories, huh?”

She nodded. Just memories. There was no way it could be him.

Her attempts at burying that thought were broken by a sudden static whir from the machinery, followed by a female apex voice. “Aly? This is Klav, what did you need? Are you low on antiseptic again?”

“Hello, my dear,” Aly said with a cordial smile. Even though the other speaker couldn’t see her, it was one of those smiles that can be heard. “Our supplies are fine, don’t worry. I have guests with me today. We were just calling to catch Arkadis. Is he in? We had a question for him.”

Oldarva caught Nyota’s eye and Nyota could tell from a subtle shift in her expression that both of them were remembering the same things. I have guests, such an innocent phrase, both a courtesy to the guest and a reminder to the speaker to watch what they say.

The other speaker was too well-practiced to pause at recognizing the warning. “He’s fixing his arm. I’ll go get him.”

There was a muted sound of fabric rustling, the low hum of voices, and then a male apex’s voice came through the speaker. “Aly?”

Nyota hadn’t realized how hard she had been listening. His voice was young still, but something to it creaked, like Aly’s old joints made into sound. It didn’t match. She relaxed.

“I have Tarvei’s sister with me,” Aly explained. The fondness was strong in her voice. This Arkadis was clearly a good friend. “She’s been looking at that odd archway you scouted in the outer orbit of this system. Do you have any advice for her?”

“So there is more to it.” His voice went a little muted as he turned away from the microphone with a note of teasing triumph. “I did tell you, Klavdina.”

His companion laughed. “You did. Now focus.”

Arkadis’s voice became clearer again. “You pilot a full spaceship, don’t you? You will have a hard time getting close to it. Something about the energy around it interferes with teleportation without a focused beacon.”

Nyota frowned. That was not good news. “How did you get close?”

“I’m a mech pilot.” Nyota could hear the proud smile in his voice. “The system is open to me.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t lend Captain Saimiri a mech for this,” Aly said with a long sigh. “We have only the one at this camp, and it is being repaired right now. We had an incursion in this system last week and needed to keep them off-world.”

Nyota’s frown deepened as she ran her fingers through the fur at her jawline, an old thinking gesture that she hadn’t done in a very long time. “There must be another way to get close.”

The microphone produced a rough scuffing noise. Aly sighed again. “Keep your hands out of your mane, Arkadis. It’s messy enough already.”

Arkadis grumbled an old Apex phrase that had exactly the same connotation as a sarcastic human’s yes, mother. The microphone picked up more of his voice, but it was too quiet and mumbled to decipher; he was talking himself through something. “You will need a mech to get close to it. The creatures out there are too dangerous for just an EPP-assisted spacewalk,” he said after a while, his words steady and measured now. “Captain Saimiri. You are familiar with the Outpost where Commander Blake stayed for a few months, yes?”

“I am,” Nyota confirmed. “I’m the one who brought her there.”

“Ah, really?” There was another light rustle, like he was shaking his head to get himself back on track. “There is a penguin bar there, the Beakeasy. Above that bar is a small workshop. Go there and ask for Dr. Akaggy. Tell her that Arkadis sent you. Or the yeti, she calls me that sometimes. And be sure to duck. The doorframe is quite low.”

Nyota made a quick note for SAIL to remind her about this later. “And what do I need from this Dr. Akaggy?”

“Didn’t I say?” There was a faint note of confusion, and a laugh from the background as Klavdina confirmed that he did in fact forget to say. “Dr. Akaggy is a mechanic and as close as I have ever met to a penguin scientist. Nothing like the Miniknog lot, she won’t stick poison in your veins. Might singe your fur a bit, though. She forgets about safety features with prototypes…”

Old fear bristled down Nyota’s neck. But Arkadis sounded like he knew what he was talking about. If he said it was safe enough, she would trust him.

As if he guessed her thoughts, Arkadis told her, “Just ask about mechs. She can set you up. Don’t volunteer to test anything. She won’t do lasting harm, just make you wish you hadn’t.”

“Understood.” Nyota relaxed again. “Thank you, Arkadis.”

They heard another rustle from him running a hand through his mane. “Call again sometime.”

[mandoalorian]

Return of the Jedi [Max Lord x gn!Reader]

Summary: You and Alistair are heartbroken when you find out opening week tickets for Return of the Jedi have sold out. So Maxwell calls an old friend and organises a special surprise for his little family.

Warnings: food mention

Word count: 2000>

Author’s note: I received a request to write a Maxwell Lord x neurodivergent!Reader from @smoldjarin . They provided me with so much information in regards to autism, stimming, hyperfixations and more. I had so much joy writing this and I hope you find joy in reading it too. I couldn’t have done this without Melissa. I just hope I done it justice. (PS— I wanted to include Melissa’s love for Star Wars in this. I think we all, as Pedro stans, love Star Wars).

Maxwell wanted to pull his hair out. He had no idea what you and Alistair were yapping on about, but, evidently, it was something you both felt very passionate about. He’d seen you enthusiastic like this before, sure, but this was the first time he’d ever seen Alistair so hyped up. His brown eyes were gleaming as he hopped up and down.

“He literally said ‘I am your father!’ you laughed and Alistair let out a long groan.

“Yeah but he’s the bad guy! And the bad guys always lie,” Alistair explained — and that statement alone was enough to make Maxwell frown. ‘The bad guys always lie’ ... Ironic, to say the least. But, Alistair did make an excellent point. “I don’t trust him.”

You giggled and pulled Alistair into your lap. You’d never found it easy, touching people and being so close to them, but Alistair has grown to be an exception. He was like a son to you.

“Well, I suppose all will be revealed next week.” you told the ebony haired boy, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

You and Alistair got along really well, and Maxwell couldn’t be more grateful, but it was the moments when you both babbled on about Star Wars that had him feeling the most clueless. Granted, he hadn’t found the chance to sit through the movies, but he wanted to because he knew how much it meant to you and his son.

He was also made blissfully aware that the third and final instalment of the trilogy was being released next week, because you and Ali couldn’t stop talking about it. Even in the moments when Alistair wasn’t there, you expressed your excitement to Maxwell. He found it endearing though. He loved it when you talked about your interests and current hyper-fixations. Which is why his heart broke when you read the Friday morning paper and found out all the tickets for opening week were sold out.

Max, despite having no interest in Star Wars, was devastated when he saw the look on your face. He especially didn’t want to be the person who had to break the bad news to Alistair.

“I was really looking forward to it.” You mumbled sadly, your eyes fixated on your cereal. You only had a little left to eat, but truthfully, you’d lost all appetite. These movies and this franchise meant the absolute world to you, and now no doubt you’d have the final movie spoiled for you at work or by the television.

“Oh darling,” Maxwell hummed, wrapping his strong arms around you and holding you tight. You relished in his warmth and found yourself getting lost in the comforting scent of his sweet musk cologne. “I know. And I’m sorry,” the silence between you both broke his heart. “Don’t worry honey, I’ll fix this.”

You weren’t sure how he could possibly fix this. There were simply no more seats available in the movie theatres. He couldn’t just spawn in more seats. What Maxwell Lord did have though, was power, influence and money— and when he put his mind to something, he was sure to get it done. You had never met anyone more determined than him.

He didn’t want to leave you that morning, but duty called and he had to go to work. You tried your hardest to push through the day, ignoring this morning’s revelation. You opted to meet up with a friend at the park, and got ice cream. But when you’re friend told you they’d got tickets, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. You deserved these tickets. It just wasn’t fair.

Maxwell was struggling to focus on his work too. He was running out of bright ideas, but he didn’t just want his statement from this morning to be another empty promise. He actually wanted to fix this. He’d do anything to make you and Alistair happy.

Then it struck him. If his life was a kids cartoon, an illuminated lightbulb would’ve popped above his head. He buzzed his assistant, Raquel, into his office.

“Mr. Lord?” she smiled, walking towards his pine wood desk. Maxwell combed his fingers through his golden locks of hair and looked up at the blonde girl.

“Do I know anyone who is in the uh— the new Star Wars movie?” He inquired.

Raquel was expecting some question about the latest oil numbers, or a request for more supplements — so to say she was taking aback by her boss’ query was an understatement.

She thought for a moment. “Well, Harrison Ford has been a long time investor for Black Gold. He attended last year’s charity gala. Do you remember?”

Of course Maxwell remembered. How could one forget about being in the presence of Hollywood A-Lister Harrison Ford? “Harrison’s in Star Wars?” Maxwell quizzed, trying to hide his piqued curiosity. “Bring me his number. I have to make a call.”

———

Maxwell was so excited to get home and share the good news with you and Alistair. You greeted him just as you normally did, with a loving embrace and a gentle kiss.

“How was your day sweetheart?” your boyfriend asked, smoothing out your hair.

You shrugged. “Fine I s’pose,” you told him. “How was work?”

Maxwell’s grin only grew. “Bring Alistair in.” he beamed.

You called for the boy who had been playing with his action figures in his bedroom. His mom had dropped him off about an hour before Maxwell got home. You and Ali snuggled into each other on the crushed velveteen sofa as Maxwell paced backwards and forwards. It wasn’t nervous pacing though, he was bubbling with anticipation.

“I hope you’re all excited for tomorrow night,” Maxwell began, before flashing three pristine Return of the Jedi tickets before yours and Alistair’s eyes. “Because I met with my good friend Han Solo for lunch and he has given us access to a private screening on Sunday night. So we get to see the movie before the rest of the world.”

You felt like you were in a dream. He’d done it. He’d actually fixed it. You didn’t know how and you knew better than to question him, but it didn’t matter because he somehow managed to fix this and it was all to you and Alistair. You’d found it so hard to find someone who loved you for you, who didn’t mind your stims and who encouraged your hyperfixations. But Maxwell was that man and you couldn’t believe how lucky you had gotten.

Alistair bounced up and jumped on his dad, almost knocking him over in the process. Maxwell wrapped his arms around the six year old and picked him up.

“Daddy! Thank you thank you thank you!” he squealed, unable to contain his ecstatic grin. “I had no idea you were friends with Han Solo!”

Maxwell smiled. “Oh yeah, me and Han go way back. I used to co pilot with him on the—“ Maxwell paused for a second as he tried to recall what Harrison told him. He had to get this right. “—Millennium Falcon?”

Both yours and Alistair’s jaw dropped. Gods, he was good at this. Maxwell may have been a brilliant businessman but he was an even better father.

“Does that mean you know Luke and Leia too?” Alistair asked.

“Oh yes.” Maxwell nodded, despite having no idea who Luke and Leia were.

“And Chewbacca?”

Chewbacca? Maxwell thought. What kind of name was that? Never the less he smiled and nodded. “Absolutely.”

“And Artoo and Threepio?”

Maxwell blinked. “Yep.” he replied through gritted teeth.

“Wow daddy,” Alistair hummed, snuggling into his dad’s chest. “I’m so excited.”

Maxwell dropped Alistair the ground and kneeled to his level. “You should put on your jammies and have an early night. That way, tomorrow will come around quicker.”

“Okay!” Alistair agreed enthusiastically before running back into his bedroom.

“And remember Ali!” Maxwell called. He cleared his throat and pointed his finger. “I am your father.”

That was it. That was the last straw. You’d tried your hardest to hold back your laughter as Max humoured his son, but seeing your boyfriend do a Darth Vader impression was something else.

Max sighed and sat down next to you, pulling your body into his lap. “I love you so much, my dear.”

You grinned and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you too. I can’t believe you did all of this.” you revealed.

“I always keep my promises.” he replied with the most genuine smile.

———

The movie was a success, and even Maxwell enjoyed it, which was very unexpected.

“I can’t believe Darth Vader was telling the truth,” Alistair sighed, exasperated. It had been a long day for sure, and his cheeks were still rosy with excitement. “I’m so glad Darth Vader isn’t my dad.”

Maxwell tutted.

“But he turned good in the end,” You smiled, taking Ali’s hand. “He saw what truly mattered. He had to save his son.”

Yeah, the parallels between Vader and Luke and Maxwell and Alistair were interesting to say the least.

“Daddy, who was your favourite character?” Alistair asked.

Maxwell thought for a moment. “I liked that guy in the green armour, he was cool. He sorta reminds me of, well, me.”

“Boba Fett?” Alistair quirked an eyebrow. “Oh daddy, no one is as cool as Boba Fett.”

Maxwell feigned a gasp. “Not even your old

man?”

Alistair giggled and rolled his eyes. “I liked the Ewok!” he announced and then tugged on your hand. “Who did you like?”

“I like Leia,” you beamed. “She’s strong and beautiful...”

“Just like you.” Maxwell whispered, brushing his

lips against yours.

The night came to an end and you couldn’t have been happier. As you lay in bed, you thanked Maxwell for all he had done. He was truly the best boyfriend in the world. He loved you so much, and he swore in that moment, as you fell asleep in his arms, that the next promise he’d make would be a promise to himself.

He was going to marry you.

———

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[chanluster]

playing the game | {m} ; slight {f}

oneshot | 4k words

“Because the only way to catch your boyfriend’s attention is to play a game of your own.”

s u m m a r y >> all you wanted was some nice, alone time with your time with your boyfriend, only to have the prick playing rounds of call of duty with his friends. so, you concoct a plan, starting a game which he could not help but take part in, and thoroughly enjoy the consequences.

w a r n i n g s >> teasing, making out, (kinda) dirty talk, handjob, aggressiveness, unprotected sex (stay safe homies!) hyunjin and felix try to be massive cock blockers, aftercare (kind of lmao)

a / n >> this is made thanks to ali’s request and my ass getting horny over minho’s orange hair dear god he’s so hot - anyway, i hope you enjoy, homies!

back to masterlist

YOUR BROWS KNITTED IRRITABLY WHEN YOU WERE IGNORED ONCE MORE.

“Minho.”

No response. Once again, the said-boy chose to dismiss his name on your tongue.

Crossing your arms, you watched your boyfriend sit cross-legged before the TV, eyes trained on the match before him as his back barely touched the bed behind him. The sound of the joysticks clicking harmonised with the bullets firing in the screen, the first person player ducking behind shelter. Various junk food surrounded his settling, crisps and chocolates scattered to be eaten between breaks. 

A roll of eyes escaped you. 

Minho looked like an animal. His orange hair was disheveled from all the hand raking, bulky headphones covering his ears. His black jumper had its sleeves rolled up, meaning only business, and sweatpants of the same colour hugged his thighs a little too nicely, his phone sitting atop his knee as it buzzed with every text from his friends.

It was ridiculous. Crazy how he had not changed his position for the past four hours. There had to be a time when he paused, but the moment did not arrive to assist you.

“Minho!” You exclaimed. Once again, no response.

Like you said. Ridiculous.

It was a lazy weekend evening, and you had hoped to spend this rare opportunity to relish each other’s company, possibly become wrapped up in your own little games with him. Unfortunately for you, the piece of shit was too engulfed with ‘the boys’ to even notice you standing at the doorway, calling his name countless times. 

His complete ignorance made you incredibly annoyed. It didn’t help much that you were feeling a little aroused moments before — it was the reason you arrived in his room, expecting to have your insides rearranged, but your boyfriend was already doing that, but to another player by rifling him bloody.

“Yes, yes, yes! Wait, there’s a man to your right! Hyunjin, to your fucking right!”

A hard scoff left your lips, stepping into his room, an expanse of mint-coloured walls and books everywhere, evidence of his hard work. His bed was made perfectly, you noticed with a swelling heart, knowing he had probably cleaned it for your arrival. 

You walked over to where he sat, staring at his player stalking forward, reaching for ammo in a nearby storage box. A string of curses caught your ears, listening to Hyunjin scream in frustration as he’s killed off.

Settling yourself down beside him, you looked to him. “Minho,” you got out.

His eyes were still glued to the screen when he said, “Hey, baby.” Suddenly, he cursed, pressing on the buttons aggressively. “Felix, stop shooting in the fucking leg!”

The more he opened his mouth, the more you wished to smack his annoyingly beautiful face, but an idea, a drastic, incredibly insane idea entered your mind. 

Your lips curved into a smirk, going unnoticed.

“Minho?” You asked, sweetening your voice as you snuggled closer to your boyfriend. 

“Hmm?” The clicking grew louder as the boy began to grin, killing off the first of the last three left in the opposing team. “Aww, fuck yeah!” He brought the headphone mic to his lips, malice smeared upon them. “I’m gonna be in the final, pricks!”

You ignored the incessant complaining of his friends, turning to face him. “Minho, can I please cuddle?” You asked, eyes wide. 

Hands pressing on the volume button, he lowered the sound of his annoying teammates, glancing at you with a soft smile. “Course,” he said, holding his controller in one hand as he stretched his arms out, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck, completely attached to him like a koala, legs on either side of him. The boy then locked the hug with his hands, using the controller once more as he started the final part of his match. “Alright, dickheads, let’s win this game. Save for Hyunjin, fucking loser.”

You smiled against his jumper, grip on his neck tightening. 

You better hope you win.

Raising your head just lightly, you spare one last look at your boyfriend before you closed your eyes, and planted your lips upon his neck.

And began your own game of the night. 

You felt Minho still, ever so slightly, beneath your touch. 

However, he became preoccupied with the game, as you heard prompting within his headphones from his friends. You furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance, but quickly reigned in your irritancy as you slowly opened your mouth, teeth skimming over his skin to test the waters.

Minho, who was about to tell Hyunjin to fuck off for the nth time, paused, and a small hiss escaped him when you carefully sucked onto his supple skin, so slow, so gradual, knowing the boy you were trying to ruin was using every ounce of his patience not to groan into the mic.

His friends would instantly know if he let a moan escape. Call of Duty isn’t exactly a sexy game.

You slithered out your tongue, and lapped it over the raw creation upon his neck, earning a bated exhale from your victim, who could only stare at the TV screen to not lose his game. Or his sanity.

Tutting, you planted his lips, repeating the sensuous action with a new sense of determination.

Poor, poor Minho. Should have focused on the game I’m playing.

Your hands, which were vacant upon his neck, began assisting your plan, one finding comfort within his fire-like locks, and the other, the more important, the more fatal, sliding down.

And down. And down.

It stopped right to the base of his sweatpants, fingers tracing the treasure hidden a few layers beneath. The moment your hands touched the rough outline Minho yelped, dropping his phone onto the carpeted floor. His clumsy thumbs directed his player right in no man's land, exposing him to the opponents fire range.

Chuckling onto his skin, you painted another hickey onto him, ravishing one side of his throat as Minho whined softly at your efforts, restlessly working on the controller to get back to safety. You heard the confused voices of his friends in the loud headphones, asking him what that “weird ass sound” came from. The flustered boy muted his mic and paused the game, seconds ticking till the shoot down would continue on its own.

You were about to mould him another bruise when Minho’s hand on the mic gripped onto your chin, yanking you from his neck and making you face him. The moment your eyes locked, you gasped.

If you thought Minho looked like an animal before, the opinion had changed. The boy now looked like an aroused demon, staring at you in a way which had your core singing at the warnings. Curving your lips, you challenged him with your gaze, daring him to end the game entirely and spend the night the way you wished so ardently.

Perhaps he wanted to as well, because he whispered, iron in his voice, “Do not tempt me,____.”

You scoffed at his warning, distinctly remembering the hand that was planted upon his crotch, fingers still roaming. “And what if I do?” you taunted, smirk still playing on your lips.

Minho was ready to risk it all when the game signalled its continuance, and immediately his focus shifted to the screen and the bullets firing at his player. 

“Minho, you son of a bitch, turn the mic on!” Complaining voiced into his headphones, and the son of a bitch obliged, turning his mic on once more, leaving you look more or less like a fool. 

You gritted your teeth. Dear God, I’m going to make him pay!

The hand which casually rested on his semi-hard crotch, with a new objective, wrapped around the outline, fingers grazing its form with your nail. With a smug quirk of your lips you found it twitching slightly against the fabric.

A strained grunt emitted from his mouth, and he gripped his controller hard enough to snap. “You’re not going to make me lose,___.”

“Bro, the fuck? You’re playing games with your girl—?”

“You better not, Minho,” you whispered, using your free hand to grab a headphone side, craning it back to give access to his ear.

Your words had the man nearly mewling right into the mic.

“Or else you’ll lose my hands on your cock.”

Minho jerked at the threat, causing the controller to slip from his hands. The object thudded on the floor, upturned upon the carpet among the sugary mess of his snacks. 

“___,” he guttered, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood erect, much like the cock that thrummed within the pads of your fingers soon. “Don’t fucking play with me.”

“Let me get that remote control for you, babe,” you only offered, losing your hand from his crotch, earning a small whine from your boyfriend. You stretched, grabbing the controller, and turned once more to him.

You placed the object in his hold, cupping his hands and stroking the slender fingers which held the sole object of his victory. Victory not only in the battlefield, but in his bedroom, claiming it through the ravishing of your body underneath him.

“Minho? Earth to the motherfucker who’s gonna lose the game—”

“Shut up, Hyunjin,” the boy snapped, and grumbling was heard before his friend was silenced, chuckling emitting from Felix through the headphones. 

Eyes taking you prisoner, Minho grabbed onto the controller with an iron will, continuing the game. 

“Go on,___,” he taunted, a small smirk sharpening his mouth. “We’ll see who wins the game.”

Your answering grin was enough to have his cock twitching.

Your hands, now vacant, found home straight there, the fabric risen slightly. With your fingers wrapping around the covered shaft, you trailed your hand down, and up, and then down, creating friction within his layers. 

With a sucked in breath his cock shot upwards, angrily outlining itself against his sweatpants. His focus wavered on the screen, barely able to avoid death as he hid behind a vandalised building. 

“You’re going to kill me,” he rasped out, you surprised to find his breathing already a little ragged. Malicious pride flooded your features, and you only kissed the corner of his mouth in response, earning a hiss from his truly. 

“Don’t lose focus, babe,” you murmured, planting another open mouthed kiss upon his cheek. “Or else you’ll lose.”

“Minho, what the fuck is happening?” Hyunjin’s irritated voice crowed into the mic, but the boy, with a single hand, ripped the headphones from his ears, tossing them across. “Minho?!”

“Shut the fuck up, prick!” He shouted, desperation laced in his tone as he frantically tried to kill his opponents. 

You, on the other hand, closed yourself further in, your other hand cupping his jaw while the more important travelled to the band of his sweatpants, sliding inside.

“Fuck—”

You ignored his string of further curses, melting at the heated member which stood furiously erect at your actions. 

“Already so affected by me, babe?” You cooed, index finger tracing the thicker skin, the length of him, the idea of this raging cock driven inside of you. 

“If you don’t shut your mouth,___, I swear to God—”

“Or what, Minho?” You pressed your lips upon the corners of his jaw. “You’ll shut me up with your cock?”

When you journeyed to the top of his member you feel the warm pre-cum, starting to stain his sweatpants. You wrapped your fingers around him, beginning your first action to his downfall.

The moment your hands descended down his shaft he let out a rather loud moan, aggravated and fuelled with pleasure. You repeated the action, up and down, slowly, careful not to pick up the pace, not to have your boyfriend already cumming into your hands. You refused to let him have the satisfaction.

“Jesus, fuck—” he breathed out, and perhaps you threw him the bone of your gradual rapidity of your ascending and descending upon his cock, his incessant groaning gradually getting louder. “___, I’m going to—”

“Minho,” you started, pausing your task. The boy complained, but you held strong, caressing his ear with your lips. “You better win the game first. Eyes on the screen.”

Lee Minho, who never listened to anyone or anything, shocked you when he almost broke the controller trying to find the last man standing on the battlefield. “I don’t see your hand working, babe,” he provoked, and you giggled at his over-enthusiasm laced in his torment, and obliged when you began your faster pace of moving your hand, already making the boy pant over your skill. 

Your mouth, in the meantime, occupied itself with peppering kisses upon his face, avoiding his lips because you knew he’d melt right into your touch. Even then he leaned in more to your kisses, causing him to avoid death countless times within the game.

“You better be prepared when I win the game,___,” he declared in a husky rasp. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

Although that had your core tightening in pleasure, you smirked. “I’d like to see you try,” you countered back, increasing your speed and having Minho practically eating off your hand. You gave kudos to his self control, but you had a small feeling it was on a tight leash.

And every tight leash is more likely to snap.

The boy, shaking hands fumbling on his controller, advanced on his enemy, weapon out and ready to obliterate his final objective.

It was then you smacked his lips against his, enveloping him in a kiss which completely threw him off guard. 

You heard the sound of bullets firing in the TV screen, and a thud! of a body hitting against the concrete floors of the destination.

Minho pulled away from the kiss, eyes wide with shock as he observed the results.

His player, slumped in shame behind the winner, proudly standing with his prized gun and camo gear adorned. 

You looked back at the results board showing up on the screen, and see the lack of your boyfriend’s name on the top of the leaderboard.

“Tsk, tsk, babe,” you mocked, the most smug little smile upon your lips. You slithered your hand out of his sweatpants, both hands now upon his thighs. “Looks like you lost the game.”

His eyes locked with yours, and something was shifting, but you dismissed it, chuckling as you heaved up, dusting yourself off as if you hadn’t just given your boyfriend ultimate blue balls.

You turned on your heel, about to leave the room when Minho’s satanic mumble froze you entirely. 

“I still have one more game to finish,___.”

You whirled back, and you yelped to see the boy standing not two inches before you, gaze so predatory you felt your legs weaken at the mere sight.

“You didn’t,” you started, but the more you stared the more your words began to fade. Jesus in his sweet little stable, you really did think you were going to fall. “You...you didn’t win, Minho.”

With a harsh scoff the boy gathered you up in his arms, a startled noise escaping you when he carried you bride-style, and practically threw you on that crisp, clean bed he had prepared all those hours ago.

“Sure, I didn’t win the last one,” he drawled, and you were about to leak with the way he prowled towards you. He secured his position atop you, legs on either side of you, and leaned in till your face was a hair’s width from yours.

“But I’m not losing in your game.”

You nearly moaned straight away when he imprisoned you with his kiss, capturing your lips and moving them perfectly with his. Your hands instantly found refuge in his hair, his locks which tickled your face as he kissed you crazy.

His own fingers travelled to your waist, creeping inside your top, each touch of his skin against yours like fire licking against the expanse. God, it was like you had dropped yourself in the underworld, and his hands were raging waves of fire, threatening to decimate you. The worst part was you welcomed this destruction. 

He broke the kiss, gasping for air before attacking the rest of your face with his lips, fingers still spreading heat while the other hand began its descent down your jeans, palming his desired destination. 

A loud moan shamelessly emitted from your mouth, and Minho smirked with the same lack of shame you possessed, ravishing your throat the same way you did not so long ago. His teeth painted love bites down his trail, and you ravaged his hair, tugging at his shirt in pleading to take it off.

“I’m already winning, huh?” He whispered, ragged voice so incredibly hot you grabbed the hem of his shirt and peeled the useless piece of clothing off him, tossing it to the floor. 

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you got out, and with wicked laughter he made you wait, tugging at your own shirt to even the odds. You took it off, joining Minho’s clothing, and were back upon each other’s mouths, opening up enough for Minho to slide his tongue inside you. 

Your bare chests collided as you raised yourself a little higher, hands on the band of his sweats as you yanked them down. Minho abandoned his sweatpants upon the floor, and did the same of you, mouth watering at the sight of your red lace, a little present you hoped he would see earlier. His blatant staring had you flushing the colour of your underwear, and he caught you, grinning wildly at your flustered nature.

“Awww,” he cooed, throwing your jeans in the pile. “Now you’re getting shy?” He hooked a finger under your lace, slowly, too fucking slowly dragging the material down. “Where was this blush when you were playing with my cock?”

“Minho!” You whined, digging your nails in his skin. “Damn it, just fuck me!”

Cruel laughter rang around the bedroom. “Oh, so when you’re needy, I just obey you? Just like that?” His lust-blown eyes regarded your slick cunt, and pride engulfed him, knowing your arousal was completely his doing. 

“Please,” you let yourself beg, because at this point, your desire had conquered your common decency — the need for your boyfriend to pound you till morning had overtaken the need to slap the conceited smirk off his face. “Please, Minho—”

The pleading had him bruising your mouth with his, as he too pried off his underwear, cock still throbbing from the teasing you left unfinished. The recent memory of you sliding your hand up and down his shaft still drove him to near insanity, and by God if he did not drive the bloody thing inside you he truly would become deranged. 

Pulling apart, Minho presses his forehead against yours as he guided his head to your entrance, gleaming with arousal and a promise of one hell of a fucking night. “Say the words,” he demanded, and this time you gritted your teeth. Stubborn till the end, I see. 

“Fuck you.”

Your response was a shit-eating grin, as he slowly retracted his member. “Wrong,” he jeered.

“Minho—!” You exclaimed hysterically, reminding yourself that you’re going to kill him when all of this is over. As of now, you were silently hoping he would kill you with his cock.

“Beg for it,___,” he ordered as he grazed his head against you, and you cursed yourself for being so pig-headed, for depriving yourself this opportunity. 

“Please!” Your breathing turned short, clinging onto the boy for dear life. “Please, just fuck me already—”

With the magic words, Minho clasped his lips upon yours as he drove his cock straight into you.

Your pleasured scream nearly brought down the roof, but he drowned it out with his lips, stubborn as they moved so amazingly, almost in sync to each thrust he sent your way, each time he slid his cock in and out, in and out till you were certain you were going to see stars. Although you had fucked Minho many times before, today, your mewling was louder, your grip on his shoulders a little tighter and your heart more inclined to burst in your rib cage. 

Your consistent beseeching was music to his ears, and you felt your peak nearer and nearer, whimpering the warnings to Minho that you were going to die, and you would gladly accept this demise if it promised such unadulterated pleasure. The boy hastily nodded, sweat-slick locks sticking to his face, burying his face in your neck as he held you close.

“Minho, please, I-I’m going to—Ah!” You yelped with the sheer force of his thrusts, rolling your eyes back subconsciously as your grip nearly slipped on his back. You did not care that your peak would probably snap you in half. You did not care about anything but Minho’s cock, showing you the constellations of the universe. 

When your orgasm finally caught up on you it threatened to break you — your moans were bellowed across the room, were so obscenely loud but had little in you to care when Minho held onto you every minute of it, the last grip of stability in your fucked out vision. The one man who brought you down from your myriad of fantasies, washing all over you. 

The boy’s own cock sought relief, barrelling his release inside you, some escaping from your cunt and staining the sweat-slick sheets. The symphony of panted breaths harmonised with the heightened groaning of your voice, and at last Minho pulled out, slumping beside you on the bed. 

You tried to calm your breathing, ragged and almost painful with its irregularity moments before. His breaths were laboured too, one hand upon his rising and setting chest. A strange sense of calm washed over you, and was confirmed further when, with a small gasp, you felt the sheets being pulled over you. 

Turning, you faced the tired, yet happy face of Minho’s, lazily smiling as he closed his eyes, leaning against the divan. You returned his smile, snuggling up to him, planting your head against his chest.

His voice reverberated against your cheek as he said, “Looks like I won, baby.”

You looked up, shooting him a fatigued, yet incredulous look which had him huffing out a laugh. “You’re insufferable.” You mumbled, and were about to leave his presence when he wrapped his arms around you, refusing to let you go.

”And you’re exquisite,” he responded, propping his chin atop your head, stroking your arm with a soothing hand. 

Heart fluttering, you wrapped his your arms around him, breathing him in, relishing in his presence, secretly thanking the stars above that he’s real and he’s beside you, moments after fucking you. 

You were about to say something sweet when a familiar voice screeched into existence. 

“OH MY FUCKING GOD—!”

Both of you jumped at the exclamation, eyes widening when you both caught sight of Minho’s headphones in the corner of the room.

“MINHO, YOU DIRTY MOTHERFUCKER—”

When the two of you locked eyes, disbelief crossed your features.

“Babe,” you began, stare widening, “Did you... not...mute your mic…?”

Your question was answered, but not by your boyfriend. 

“Minho, if you were gonna rail ___ then you could have muted the goddamn mic—”

“Oh fuck,” Minho got out, and you cupped your mouth with your hands in shock, watching the boy run towards his mic, despite being stark naked. He picked up his headphones, saying, “Guys, I’m so sorry, holy shit—”

“I hate you, Minho!” You screeched, all the blood in your body rushing to your cheeks. You could only pull the sheets over yourself, hoping the bed could swallow you up forever. 

Guilty laughter escaped from the boy, and you didn’t even perk your head over to flip him off. 

You could hear the grin in his next words, and although you wanted nothing more than to strangle his dumb ass, it still made you blush even harder, letting yourself smile at his response. 

“I love you, too!”

[writtenonreceipts]

If you're taking prompts, maybe for feysand - Person A catches a bus home everyday, but today, they're so exhausted that they fall asleep, suddely they feel a light tap on their shoulder and open their eyes to see person B smiling at them. "Sorry to wake you, but this is your stop, i hope you slept well"

<33

Oh my darling anon, I am always eager for prompts! Thank-you for sending this in! I altered just a few minor things, ie trains and not not busses and the diologue is just worded diff... and then over indulged in my own whims and fancies, just a touch.

2.7K words of fluff and awkwardness...all i know is awkwardness so ya know...

 #

Strangers and Favors

Exhausted.  Tired.  Sleepy.  There were far too many ways to describe what Feyre was feeling.  Not even the coffee in her hands was doing anything to give her the boost she needed.  

Amid the chill of morning and the slowly growing light of dawn, Feyre found herself hurrying from her car in the park-and-ride lot.  She practically flung herself up the small steps that led to the train platform and into the first train car she was near. 

She’d been running late that morning and nearly missed her alarm.  Alis had been a dear and poured her coffee in a thermos, but Feyre hated the feeling of being rushed.  Especially after a poor night's sleep.  And when it was five thirty in the morning.

Feyre slipped into a seat before she could finally tell herself to breathe.  She’d made it onto her train with only a few minutes to spare.  Thankfully there were other straggling passengers filtered into the train car and made their way to their various seats.

Feyre took a long sip of her coffee and tried to convince herself that she wasn’t really tired.  Even though it was far too early to be awake and she had an hour and a half train ride to sit through.  

Dawn had barely begun to rise over the horizon with not even the promise of pink and blue streaks through the sky.  She sighed and drew out her sketch pad.  

She was barely into starting the picture--of what she had no idea--when the train started moving and a form fell into the seat across from her.

Feyre blinked and glanced up.

There were plenty of other open seats lining the train.  Granted the place she’d found herself was the only one with a small table set up, but still.  

Sitting across from her was a man far too attractive for his own good.  He wore a black suit with a deep navy-blue button up beneath.  No tie, only the top few buttons of his shirt undone giving a peak at a series of tattoos on his chest.  His black hair was styled in a neat wave revealing a chiseled jaw and glorious eyes.

Feyre tore her gaze away before she could be accused of staring.  But honestly, who could blame her?

Over the course of the train ride, Feyre finished her coffee and scribbled out at least four pages worth of drawings.  Unfortunately, inspiration didn’t strike.  Not that it was surprising.  She’d not drawn anything new in months.  Oh, she’d tried.  She could sit for hours on this train, on her balcony, or out in the middle of the forest with a pencil in one hand and paper in the other--and nothing.  Nothing would come.

Alis always told her that she couldn’t force herself to draw.  She couldn’t force herself to be inspired if she didn’t make the conscious choice.  But Alis didn’t understand that sometimes, it was too damned hard.

The train ride passed without excitement.  Not even the man across from her did anything interesting.  Figured.  He was so attractive his life had to be mundane.  At least, that was what Feyre told herself while she was not covertly looking at him

She was glad to get off the train when it reached the city.  After making sure she had her things, she slipped out and onto the platform without trouble.

#

Chaos was not something she enjoyed.  

Especially not lately.  As long as everything was in its place of simplicity, life could continue on as normal.

Honestly, if Feyre could have chosen a simple life involving nothing more than eating donuts she would have chosen it.  Because living in a state of missed calls and impatient clients and looming deadlines was far from her state of happiness.

With a bag of donuts from Rita’s bakery in one hand, Feyre collapsed in her seat at the end of the day.  She’d managed to leave work five minutes early giving her enough time to swing into Rita’s and grab a few treats.  And she would not apologize for it.

“Long day?” 

Feyre glanced up to see the man from that morning taking a seat across from her.  He had an amused sort of expression on his face which made it even harder to look away.  Feyre snatched a frosted chocolate donut from her bag and glared at him.

“No.” She took a giant bite leaving sugar to lace around her mouth and narrowed her eyes at him.

He grinned and shook his head.

Feyre was able to finish her donut in peace and managed not to stare at the man the rest of the train ride home.

#

Life continued.  And much to Feyre’s dismay, nothing changed.

Her sketch book remained empty.  Her coffee remained dull.  Work did not improve.

Something needed to change.  But honestly, she couldn’t figure out what it was.  She’d left her ex months ago.  She’d gotten a new wardrobe, a new phone, moved in with her friend.  She’d started getting out more too.  Somewhat.  When Nesta called, which wasn’t often but at least her sister was trying.

It was five-thirty in the morning and she was seated on the train, again.  And the man who seemed to only own clothing that was black was seated across from her, again.  Since that first day of seeing him, he hadn’t tried talking to her again, which Feyre was semi grateful for.  She was certain she would just make herself look like a bigger idiot than before.

Had she really stuffed her face with that giant donut?

Not that she cared.  She could do whatever she wanted.

Except draw.

Feyre stared out the window of the train.  It was slowly starting to get lighter sooner and Feyre now had more scenery to watch instead of the reality of the empty sketchpad.

Inevitably, however, Feyre found her attention drawn to the man across from her.

There was something about him.  Feyre couldn’t place it, exactly, perhaps an energy of some kind.  Or it was his confidence.  Arrogance.  Something.  She found him mesmerizing.  How stupid was that?  A man she had said one word to and ignored for an entire month and she could help but watch him.

He did a cross word every morning.  Texting someone throughout--or else cheating and looking up the answers.  Other times she caught him reading a book about astrology or NASA’s recent magazine release.  She wanted to ask him about the astrology, it was such a fascinating topic, one that she liked learning about.  But she never knew how to strike up a conversation, so she remained silent.

She’d always been good at staying silent.  At least that was what she’d been told.

The thought came so suddenly that Feyre had to physically shake herself to make it disappear.  She sat up in her seat, hands clenching in her lap.

She snapped her attention away from the train window and forcibly removed her sketchpad from her bag.  In a fury, Feyre moved her pencil across the page.  It wasn’t the bed utensil to use, but it was better than bringing her entire art supply on the commute to work.  The pencil would suffice.

It wasn’t as though she liked being quiet.  It wasn’t as though she didn’t have anything to say.  Sometimes it was just easier.  Sometimes it was just better.  Sometimes the silence was how she communicated.  Sometimes people just didn’t understand that.

The scene came alive beneath her fingers.

Mountains and stars.  Storms and shadows.  All convalescing on a shape.  A person.  A…

Feyre frowned at the scene.  Someone was kneeling on a throne of night and she couldn’t see their face.

“Do you always glare at your art like that?”  The midnight voice broke Feyre out of her revere.  

Glance up, Feyre locked gazes with the violet eyes of the man across from her.  The crossword in his lap was complete.  Feyre realized for the first time that he was younger than she’d originally thought.  Maybe about five years older than she was.  And even though he oozed arrogance, there was almost a genuine sort of smile dancing across his lips.

“Only when it’s being difficult,” Feyre answered.  She offered a brief shrug and gestured to the crossword on his lap. “Do you always cheat at the crossword?”

He made an affronted sort of gasp. “I don’t cheat.”

“You’re always on your phone when you scribble answers in,” Feyre pointed out.  She smirked, unable to help it.

“I’m texting with a friend,” he said, “she’s always trying to finish the damned thing before me in the mornings.  All I do is offer a bit of...encouragement.”

“Right,” Feyre said doubtfully.  She shook her head, still smiling.

The man watched her, almost confused, before he leaned forward.  “And the art?  It’s the first time in over a month I’ve seen you actually draw something.”

“I was searching for the right inspiration,” she said.  And then as she found herself nearly drowning in the heat of his gaze--Feyre had what she’d been hunting for. “Sometimes it just takes a while to find.”

The train pulled to a stop where they usually got off.  Feyre collected her things and half expected the man to be right at her side when his phone went off.

He muttered something under his breath before answering it.

Feyre almost had half a mind to wait for him.  To linger on the platform and dredge up some excuse so that she could talk to him.  If only for a moment longer.  She still hadn’t asked him about the astrology book.

Instead she was swept up in the crowd of commuters.

#

For the next two weeks, Feyre was out of her mind with anxiety.

There really was no other way to describe it.  Because every morning and every evening when she would board the train there would be no sign of her mysterious companion.  Not even the sight of him running to try and catch a ride before the train completely left the station.  Not even a hint of him getting on a different compartment one day by accident.  Nothing.

So, naturally, her mind told her that it had something she’d done.  Something she’d said.  Hell.  She hadn’t even done anything that stupid.  Aside from stuffing a whole ass donut in her mouth.

She was an idiot.

Eventually she was able to push thoughts of her mysterious companion aside.  Not only was she drawing again, but her workload had increased.  And now she was getting up earlier and staying later and her schedule was entirely too chaotic.  

She really missed the simpler days of dashing into Rita’s or relaxing on the train bench not staring at the man across from her.

After two weeks of commuting alone and another two weeks of being run ragged at work, Feyre finally found herself being able to return to a normal timeline.  Somewhat.  At least she was going to be able catch her usual train home and get home before ten o’clock.

Feyre fell into her seat and leaned up against the window of the train.  She didn’t mean to fall asleep.  Not really.  But as soon as she was seated and relaxed her eyes drifted shut and she was gone.

The next thing Feyre knew there was a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry to wake you, but this is your stop,” said an all too familiar voice.

Feyre’s eyes snapped open and she nearly flung out a fist to the shape in front of her.

“I take it you slept well?” Her mysterious companion snatched out a hand and caught hers before it made contact.  He gave her a cheeky grin. “You didn’t even twitch between all the other stops.”

Feyre blinked up at him.  Sleep still addled her brain and he was making no sense whatsoever.

“What?” she finally managed to spit out.

“Your stop?” he said, jutting a thumb to the train doors. 

Feyre cursed, loudly, and jumped up. “I barely even closed my eyes,” she grumbled.

“Here, let me,” her companion grabbed her bag for her and helped her off the train before it took them all the way south to Hybern.

“Thanks,” Feyre said as they stepped out onto the platform.  She accepted her bag from him and gave him a smile. “It’s been a long couple of weeks I guess.”

In the still fading evening light, Feyre was able to see his easy smile and the way his eyes crinkled softly.  His black hair was tousled easily as if he’d been running his hands through it recently.

“It’s not a problem,” he said, “in fact I was surprised to even see you.  It’d been a few weeks.”

Feyre blinked.  He’d noticed she wasn’t on at her usual time?

“You were gone for a while too,” she said without thinking.  You idiot.

Her words seemed to catch him by surprise, but not for long.  A gleam flashed in his eyes.

“You noticed, did you?”

“You noticed me,” she shot back quickly.

They stood in silence as the train moved on with a loud whistle and the last few men and women passed them by hurrying to catch their connecting busses or get to their cars.

His smile stretched into a full grin. “I’m Rhysand.”

“Feyre,” she said, returning the smile.   She then noticed the small paper bag he held in one hand.  Immediately, Feyre recognized the logo on the outside.  “Rita’s?  That’s my favorite place to stop at after work.”

“Yeah, uh,” Rhysand said as he ran a hand through his hair, “I noticed and decided to give it a try.”

“And?” Feyre pressed.

“I have you to blame for my new addiction,” he said.

Feyre laughed, shaking her head.  “I take full responsibility, though I will not apologize.”

Rhysand paused only for a moment before he glanced at her and an almost sheepish smile crossed his features. “Have you been to Dreamer’s? It’s a late-night coffee shop on Main.”

“I haven’t, but I’ve been meaning to,” Feyre admitted.

“My treat,” he said almost immediately.  “I mean, if you want.  You can tell me about what helped you find the inspiration to start drawing again.”

Feyre blinked at him remembering that train ride over a month ago now where she’d finally been able to draw more than a few measly lines.  And she realized now as she watched a halo of light glimmer from the setting sun around his head that all this time she’d been trying to draw him in the outline of mountains and stars.

“Deal,” Feyre said. “But you should know, I don’t give up my secrets lightly.”

Rhysand quirked a brow. “Noted.”

They spent hours sharing secrets.  The small kinds, the simple kinds.

Feyre learned that Rhysand’s brother had broken his leg playing football and needed surgery which was why he’d disappeared for a few weeks.  She learned that it was his mother who taught him about astrology before she died not that long ago.  And now he spent most of his time trying to avoid his father.  

She’d told him about her love of painting, of art, of creating.  Anything that made her feel alive.  She’d told him about walking out on her old life and how here she was six months later and still desperate for change.

They were both trying, it turned out, to become something different.

It wouldn’t be until later that night--after sunset when the inky black sky gave way to the millions of stars overhead--that Feyre found herself home.  Rhysand, of course, made sure she’d arrived safe and she’d rewarded him with a brush of her lips to his cheek and a small smile over her shoulder.

It wouldn’t be until later that night--amid the cool mid-spring air that promised a new dawn--that Feyre would pull out her sketch pad.  She would draw sharp lines and angular features and a man kneeling amid the night.  She would draw power and beauty in something, someone, she didn’t know perfectly.  But one day.  One day, maybe she would.

#

thanks for reading my dears!  i am always eager and open from prompts so thanks for sendin gthem!  I really do enjoy them!

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[judediangelo75]

Doctor/Hospital AU Snippet

Side Note: I am, by no means, a medical student okay? This isn’t gonna include a lot of medical jargon. This is just to test this AU to see if I’m gonna be invested in this idea. And to see if you guys like it too, I do like sharing my work. 

Plus small age difference, Talbott is 27 while Judith is 25.

Judith went over her clipboard, reviewing the information on her latest patient as she sipped on her green tea.

Talbott Winger. 27 year old male, six foot tall, weighing at 183 pounds. Came in with a fatal bullet wound in the chest, just missing his right lung by a two inches.

The night the young man came in was one of her rare nights off, being called at 1 AM at night to come in to do an emergency surgery to save the man’s life. 

The operation was deemed a success, Talbott has been sleep induced to help his recovery process, but Judith had yet to return home. Even after one of her closest friends, Chiara, insisted that she could take over from there. But Judith was rather stubborn, and stayed.

She was running off of caffeine and the energic buzz of her work place to help keep her going. She was doing her last round and was visiting the poor man who found himself at the wrong end of someone’s gun.

She finally entered her patient’s room to check his vitals. This stuff was like clockwork for her, she was so absorbed into her work that she didn’t noticed red eyes staring at her.

Talbott awoke to the beeping sound of a heart monitor and gentle, but firm, hands wrapping something around his arm.

He felt groggy as he opened his eyes, trying to remember what lead him up to this point.

He could remember gunshots, shouting, police sirens, the searing pain of a bullet entering his body, Tonks’ yelling at him to ‘stay with me, you bastard! You can’t die on me now!’-

He blinked a few more times as reality sunk in.

He was shot in the midst of a home invasion and was taken to the hospital. His chest still hurt but it was to the point it was bearable. 

He finally took a look at who was tending to him, only for his heart to skip a beat.

A young woman was mumbling under her breath as she jotted down some notes on her clipboard. She looked to be about his age or so. She at least half a foot shorter than him, but had a “no nonsense” air about her that made her seem taller. She had dark flawless dark skin, long brown black locs set in a high ponytail, and the most breathtaking eyes he has ever seen.

A pale shade of gold.

Talbott swallowed briefly. 

‘I’m in so much trouble...’

Talbott used to be a married man. He married his high school sweetheart, Badeea Ali, when he was 22. But after just four years of marriage, things fell apart. With Badeea traveling to showcase her art and him working in the police force, spending time together grew to be nonexistent. They still cared for each other and remained friends, but Talbott never dated again afterwards.

He focused on his work rather than dating. Even though Tonks, Andre, Penny, Nuri, Chiara, and his ex-wife Badeea were all insisting that he go out on a date with someone. He always said that nobody caught his eye and that he just wasn’t interested.

Until now...

Now here he was, probably still high off of painkillers, staring at this young woman in black scrubs and a white coat as if he was hit by Cupid’s arrow. He bit the inside of his cheek as he studied her facial features. His heart skipped another beat when she stepped closer to replace the IV needle in his arm. A faint sweet smell wafted up to his nose, making him feel lax. 

And he knew it wasn’t the pain meds...

‘Definitely in so much trouble...’

Judith paused when she heard a small irregularity in the heart monitor, her eyes finding red ones staring back at her. She rose a brow in surprise finding some clarity in those beautiful red irises...

‘Wait, beautiful?’ Judith mentally shook her head.

‘Chiara maybe be right. I need to some damn sleep if I’m thinking like that...’

“Ah, awake I see. Hello, Mr. Winger. My name is Judith Harris, I’m your assigned doctor as you recover here at Saint Mungos. How are you feeling?”

‘Like a high school boy with a crush...’

Talbott willed his brain to function on responding and not focusing trying to figure out that sweet accent in her voice-

“Thank you, Ms. Harris. I feel a little groggy. Slight chest pain but nothing too unbearable,” he answered. Judith nodded promptly, making slight note of this. Talbott took note that she didn’t correct him to say “Mrs.”, meaning she wasn’t married. 

‘Don’t go jumping to conclusions, she could have a boyfriend...’

“Do you remember how you got here, Mr. Winger,” she asked, looking up from her clipboard to study her patient. 

Judith would be a damn liar if she said that the young cop wasn’t piquing her interest. He was rather handsome. Dark skin (though a few shades lighter than her own), sharp angular features, thick sharp brows, trim bicolor hair, full lips, and piercing red eyes.  

He had a dark, mysterious vibe to him that appealed to her. Eyes that spoke of secrets about his personality...

And she felt tempted to look into them to see if she could figure them out.

She mentally shook her head again.

Goodness gracious, her singlehood was showing again...

She hasn’t dated since college, after her last failed relationship. All her closest friends have seen what type of mess she was the days after the fact before she just buried herself in her studies. 

She wanted to enter the medical field from a young age. To be like her dear father and help people. She’d be damned if she was going to let a break up over a man ruin her dream.

Even though that meant cutting off dating altogether.

David, Nuri, Chiara, Orion, Rath, Bill, Jae, Andre, even her aging father Kendrick have been on her ass about at least going out on a date. She always shut all of them with all types of excuses. Biggest one was that she wasn’t interested in ANY one.

Until now...

And out of all people on God’s green Earth, it had to be a patient under her care.

Bloody hell, she should schedule a vacation after this...

“I remember being shot...” Judith snapped out of her musings when the deep voice of her patient reached her ears. 

“Yes, my team and I were able to remove the bullet and keep you stabilized. You’re quite lucky, just two more inches to the right, that bullet would’ve punctured your lung,” she said. Good, no signs of memory loss...

“Lucky indeed... enough to be saved by an angel...” Gold eyes blinked at him in surprise and Talbott realized that he said that out loud.

Shit.

Judith cleared her throat.

“W-Well Mr. Winger, by the looks of things, you seem to be healing quite well. This is the end of my shift, so if you have an questions, require anything, or need assistance, just press the buzzer and your assigned nurse, Ms. Lobosca, will come and assist. I’ll see you soon, Mr. Winger. Have a good night.” Talbott didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to his beautiful doctor (surgeon?) as she briskly walked out of his room. He groaned.

He really got it bad...

[sturchling]

Birthday Surprise

So, today is my birthday! It gave me an idea for a story and I just had to write it. I hope you all like it!

Mrs. Bustier’s class tries throwing a birthday party for their favorite Italian. But when they try inviting some of her celebrity friends, they find out somethings about their friend. What will happen after they discover Lila is a liar?

It was getting close to Lila’s birthday and they were getting excited. See, they had been planning a surprise party for their dear friend. They had asked Lila what her plans were for her birthday, thinking she would be doing something awesome since she had so many celebrity friends. Instead Lila told them, that she hadn’t wanted to bother any of the celebrities she knew, that she would be happy with just getting some food with her friends in class. The class was surprised, but also flattered that Lila would rather spend the day with them. But then the class decided to combine the ideas. They would have a picnic in the park, and they would invite some of her celebrity friends they knew. Rose knew Prince Ali, and the class was sure they could get a hold of Clara and Jagged since they were living here in the city. Max even found the emails of a few other celebrities Lila knew, so they could reach out to some celebrities that they didn’t know. Surprisingly, Marinette said she would come to the party. The class hadn’t expected her to accept the invitation, Marinette had been avoiding Lila like the plague. The class was hopeful that this meant that Marinette was willing to bury the hatchet with the Italian.

 -----------------

The class jumped into the party planning quickly. They started reaching out the different celebrities that Lila knew to see if any of them were free. But they did not get the response they were expecting. Several of the celebrities never responded, but the ones that did were not positive responses. Most of them were asking who Lila was and what the French class was talking about. When Rose asked Prince Ali about coming to the party, he was just as confused about who Lila was. “What do you mean who is Lila? She is the girl who has been helping you with your go-green charities! She said the two of you are very close friends.” “I am sorry Rose, but I don’t know what you are talking about. I do not know this Lila girl and I don’t have any go-green charities. You know I focus more on children’s charities. I am sorry Rose; I am late for a meeting. I must go. Sorry I wasn’t more help.” Rose told him it was fine, and hung up. But now she was confused. Prince Ali wouldn’t lie to her, but she didn’t think Lila would either. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that Prince Ali really didn’t work with go-green charities. Had Lila lied to them, Rose wondered, as she went back to the classroom to tell the others what happened.

  -----------------

Alya received a similar response from Clara and Jagged. She had found both of them at the Grand Paris Hotel. Both of the musicians had no idea who Lila was or what Alya was talking about. “How do you two not remember Lila? Jagged, she saved your cat from being run over by an airplane! And Clara! She helped you with your dance moves for your last music video!” Both of the stars were shocked. Jagged turned back to face Alya, “Listen here, I have never owned a kitten. They aren’t rock’in, plus I’m allergic. And why would this kitten even be on an airplane runway. That doesn’t make any sense.” Clara spoke up next, “And I didn’t have any dancing help, I learned all my moves myself.” Alya was shocked at what they were telling her. Was it possible Lila lied to everyone? Now that she thought about it, Lila’s story about the cat and the dance moves doesn’t make much sense. Alya texted the class and regrouped with everyone.

  -----------------

The class got back together at the school to go over what had happened. “Wait Alya. What do you mean they don’t know Lila” Nino asked, looking really confused? “Exactly what I said Nino. Both of them swore that they had never heard of Lila and that her stories never happened. Rose heard the same thing from Prince Ali.” Alix piped up from the back, “So what does that mean? Has Lila been lying to us?” Everyone was quiet for a moment until Kim spoke up, “I think it does. I think she has been lying.” Then they hear a voice from the doorway, “Glad to hear you guys figured it out.” The class whipped around and saw Marinette standing in the doorway, smiling at them. Alya asked, “What are you doing here?” Marinette stepped further into the room, “I saw all of you coming into the school. Figured something might be wrong, so I came to see what was happening. I am just glad you guys discovered the truth.” The class then realized collectively that Marinette had been right all along. She had been telling them that Lila was lying, but they hadn’t listened. Nino was the first to speak, “Dudette we are so sorry for not listening to you earlier.” Marinette just smiled at them, “Don’t worry, I’m not mad. I get it, she had such cool stories, it would be amazing if they were real. I am just glad you found out before she could do any real damage.” The class was confused about what Marinette meant by real damage. When they asked, Marinette told them about the threat Lila had made against her. They were furious that Lila thought she could take them away from Marinette.

  -----------------

Marinette was very happy the class knew the truth now. She jokingly said, “Well, guess the party is off now, huh?” Alya just shook her head, a smirk spreading across her face, “Nope, party is still going to happen. It just won’t be what we originally planned. That liar is not getting away with threatening you and making fools of us. Who is with me?” The whole class quickly signs on to join what is now being called Operation Revenge Party. The class reached back out to some of those celebrities. Mainly Jagged and Clara since they were local. Once both musicians learned the truth about what had been happening, they both agreed to be a part of the revenge plan. The class even invited Mrs. Rossi to the ‘birthday party’ so they could reveal everything to her as well. The class was sure it would be a good show

  -----------------

The day of the party came and Marinette and the class were excited to expose Lila. First, the class gathered at the park to meet Lila. They acted like they were still the best of friends. Talking and laughing at all of Lila’s stories. Then the first part of the plan began. They wanted Mrs. Rossi there first, so that she would be there when Jagged and Clara arrived. Lila didn’t notice her mother arrive. She didn’t know she was even there until she heard, “Ma Bella! What a wonderful party, your friends did an amazing job!” Lila paled as she realized the class had invited her mother. Her mother could accidently ruin everything. Lila didn’t realize that everything was already ruined.

  -----------------

Lila was busy trying to keep her mother from talking to her class. She was so busy in fact, that she didn’t notice Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale walk into the park. That was until she heard Alya yell, “Oh my gosh Lila! Its Jagged and Clara! I can’t believe they got our invite! They must have really wanted to see you!” Now Lila was in a panic. This could not be happening. Jagged responded to Alya, “What are you talking about. Who is Lila? No, we came to see Marinette.” Nino played his part well, “What do you mean, who is Lila? Lila saved your cat from an airport runway and got tinnitus from doing it.” Mrs. Rossi was shocked. The class kept calling out different things that Lila had supposedly done for the two celebrities, and Mrs. Rossi became more and more confused. Lila was horrified, everything was coming crashing down. She began to realize that the class had planned all of this. They had known since the start of the party, at least, that Lila had been lying. And Lila thought there was only one person who could have told them. She whipped around to see Marinette smirking behind the crowd and Lila became infuriated. She forgot that her mother was there and watching her. Lila exploded.

  -----------------

“YOU! How did you do this! I had them all under my thumb! What did you do!?” Mrs. Rossi was shocked to see her daughter act like this. Lila, forgetting she was surrounded by witnesses, lunged at Marinette, but she didn’t get far. Mrs. Rossi grabbed her daughter and took her to the car. She came back and apologized to everyone for her daughter’s behavior and told them that she would handle it. And handle it, Mrs. Rossi did. Lila was immediately pulled from school and sent to a school for troubled girls back in Italy once Mrs. Rossi found out the full extent of Lila’s lies, including the truancy. Marinette was just happy everything had worked out and that Lila would not bother her again. The rest of the class enjoyed the rest of the revenge party, celebrating getting rid of that liar and avenging their sweet Marinette. Nobody messes with their friend and gets away with it.

[mmvalentine]

Prompt request perhaps?? I’d love love love to think morrigan had a crush on feyre the first time she came to the night court and stayed with Rhys for a week - and I wonder what would’ve potentially happened if feyre took morrigan up on her offer to hangout…. Or, maybe, if they hook up after the bat boys head into the birchin. You are so so talented and ilysm

Awww ilysm toooo okay just a lil fluffy one just for you x

One Perfect Breath

The truth was, that amongst the Night Court and its inner circle, Morrigan was the only one Feyre really felt comfortable with. The Illyrians had power rolling off them, one of them seemed like he could flatten you and not even notice, and the other seemed as distant and unknowable as the moon herself. Amren was literally not all-fae and showed very little interest in Feyre besides. And Rhys… well, Feyre didn’t know where to begin with the High Lord.

But there was something so easy about Morrigan, something so unapologetic and unclouded in her lovely face that Feyre found herself drawn quickly to the female. It was like of everyone here, Morrigan was the only one who said what she really meant. Who was telling the whole of the truth.

So all week Feyre avoided Rhys and his entourage, but let Mor in every time she came knocking.

Which was every single day, promptly in the morning as Feyre was finishing breakfast. Sometimes Rhys ate with her, more often he was elsewhere and Feyre ate alone. But it seemed that every time she pushed her plate away, the golden haired fae was at her bedroom door.

Not that Feyre minded in the slightest. In the year that she had been at the Spring court, she had gotten to know Lucien and taken Alis as an advisor and confidante. Tamlin’s body was as familiar to her as her own. And yet with Mor, Feyre suddenly felt like she had… a friend. Someone who sought her out purely for the joy of her company. Feyre didn’t know that she had ever had that in her life before.

So she found herself on the last day of her week in the Night Court, not with the High Lord but with Mor, lounging across a plush velvet sofa and watching the twinkle in Mor’s eyes as she laughed. Unguarded as ever, and all the more charming because of it. Feyre could see why she was so well loved here.

Feyre had woken early that morning with a strange mix of relief and anxiety to be retuning home. Of course she wanted to go home… but she had successfully avoided thinking about her almost-wedding, and wasn’t ready to think about it now. Mor arrived before breakfast, as if she knew Feyre needed her, and had been a welcome distraction.

They had been comparing preening techniques of their respective High Lords, since Feyre had let it slip that Tamlin spent a half hour brushing his hair everyday. Mor had laughed so hard she snorted, and then divulged that Rhys’ skin care products cost more than hers did.

“But you’re immortal and perfect,” Feyre said, confused. Mor laughed. “I forget sometimes that you used to be human. I never met you before you were fae.” “Well tell me then,” Feyre said, leaning her face on her fist. “What unforgivable flaws do you have?” Mor made a face. “Well no, I have none, obviously.” She grinned. “But Rhysand is a drama queen, Tarquin’s clumsy, and…” here she paused to look around her. They were alone, but she still leaned forward conspiratorially. “I hear in the Spring Court they’re terrible lovers.”

At this, Feyre blushed deeply. “Well,” she stammered. “I don’t think that’s entirely true.” Mor rolled her eyes. “My dear, I’m afraid you’re not exactly a reliable source. You only had human lovers before Tamlin, isn’t that true?” “Well, yes,” Feyre admitted. “Then you wouldn’t know,” Mor said. Feyre lowered her voice. “So you think fae in general are better in bed than humans?” “Honey all we do is throw parties and go to war and fuck around. What else are you supposed to do when you’re immortal? I literally have had centuries of practice. And you’re telling me you hadn’t noticed a difference?” Mor fell back in mock horror. “Dios mío,” she said. “You’re wasted on Tamlin.”

“Okay,” Feyre said with uncertainty. “That makes sense. Well I guess either way I’m content and that’s good.”

Mor sat back up. “Are you sure?” she asked. “You’re not curious to know what you’re missing out on?” Feyre shook her head. Mor crossed her legs under her and leaned in closer. 

“Are you sure?” she whispered. “You wouldn’t want even one, perfect kiss?” She looked down at Feyre’s lips. “Um…” Feyre swallowed. Mor looked back up, and her brown doe-eyes were luminous in the soft dawn light.

“All I know,” Mor said, now only inches from Feyre’s face and suddenly serious. “Is that life can be full of such pain and sorrow.” Indeed there was a now depth in her look, an ancient hurt, that Feyre wanted so badly to smooth away. “And so any chance I get, I choose beauty.” Feyre’s eyes flicked to the rose of Mor’s mouth as she emphasised the last word. “I choose the lovely, perfect things, even if they only last the space of one… short… breath.”

And then Mor kissed her, and time stopped altogether. Feyre’s heart thundered in her own ears, her blood was free-falling though her veins, and she was very certain in that moment that she had never tasted anything so sweet as Mor’s lips.

“Mor!” They were interrupted by a deep, rolling voice.

They broke apart, and Mor looked up innocently at her High Lord.

“What?” she asked, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

“Behave,” Rhys replied sternly, his brow furrowed but his mouth twitching.

Feyre just shook her head, dazed. The heady floral scent of Mor was a haze around her head, and even as the female squeezed Feyre’s fingers and trailed out of the room, the memory of her smell and her whispered touch still lingered.

“I must apologise for my cousin,” Rhys said, still looking like he was fighting back his smile. “That’s… alright,” Feyre struggled out. She searched for her lost breath but couldn’t quite find it. “Time to get you home then?” Rhys asked. “Of course,” Feyre said quickly. “I, ah, will collect my things.”

Then she wandered one way, realised it was the wrong way and turned around, and eventually got herself ready while Rhys watched with stars in his eyes and an amusement that he kept carefully under his tongue.

****

Thanks again to everyone who has been sending me prompts, you are sending them faster than I can fill them so if you don't see yours yet please be patient with me!

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