#need more fics of just simple cannon

[thatoneandlonelyemo2005]

you don't know how much this means to me

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Hi I love your fics and was hoping you’d like this request:)) I was thinking a fic with James x fem!reader where she’s a slytherin but not in the stereotypical way that James and the marauders typically see them as. She’s not cold hearted or prejudice, rather quite friendly and very artsy. I was thinking an enemies to lovers where James just generalizes her with the slytherin she doesn’t like so he’s not the kindest to her, but maybe she gets paired up for an assignment with Remus so James ends up having to be around her a bit and realizes she doesn’t suck lol. Think he would definitely have to work for her affection after fumbling the ball so hard but im a sucker for a happy ending!

I hope this sounds like something you’d enjoy writing, if not that’s totally ok too❤️

Masterpiece

James Potter x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: (see above) James Potter goes a little too far with a girl everyone happens to like.

AN: I am so sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it <3

CW: not proof read, use of {Y/N}, Jealous and Stupid James, sexual implied ending, Protective salty Remus, self indulgent, cursing, very slight angst, fem reader, not cannon complacent, sexual innuendo,

WC: ~9k

The sky was overcast and the wind was blowing rapidly, causing your sleeves to billow as the very stool you perched on teetered from side to side. You grabbed the seat and tried to steady your perch, holding up your paint brush away from your portrait as the creamy white shade dripped down on your bare legs. 

Dressed in casual clothes, your paint stained denim short overalls and a striped shirt that hid evidence of handprint smears from your absentminded messes. Sleeves rolled up to show your speckled skin already decorated with splotches of white and browns, fresh hazy grays that resembled the foggy ground of Hogwarts and its students. 

“{Y/N} {L/N}?” A voice so calm and careful called out from behind you. You turned and smiled on instinct, your eyes landing on the tall figure. He was also in more casual clothes, a brown cable knit sweater vest over a simple white button down shirt. He was holding up a piece of paper to his eyes before he put it in his pocket. Smiling so kindly, where the corners of his eyes crinkled and his scarred lip curled up to reveal perfectly uneven teeth.

Ballet white.

“Remus Lupin?” You called out to him and he chuckled, taking a few long steps to stand beside you. 

“You were meant to wait for me, you know.” He teased and slipped his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I know, I know. But this was the perfect time for it.” You lifted your hands to gesture to the sky and he looked around to try and find what exactly made this 'perfect.’

“How’d you even manage to get in here?” He quizzed and took a seat on the railing. Looking around at the castle grounds from the top of RavenClaw’s tower, you got the perfect view of the astronomy tower, what you were currently painting. 

“There wasn't much convincing involved. Barty Crouch walked me up here.” You smirked and he looked bewildered.

“You know Crouch?” 

“Yeah, I do.”

Remus furrowed his brow as he tried to piece together how he hadn't heard of you before. Seeing as he was meant to be escorting you two and from each Hogwarts house for your own personal study, it seemed unlikely he wouldn't of known of you, getting this particular form of special treatment from the headmaster himself.

Remus walked around you and took a peak at what you were painting. The air so familiar, and comforting, both of you had forgotten you had just met.

“What are you painting?”

“Magical paintings.” You hummed and he furrowed his brow further.

“Don't you usually need a subject?”

“Traditionally.” You muttered and gestured for him to sit down. He listened almost instantly, sitting down on the floor next to you, laying his crutch across his lap. After a moment of pause you shrugged and set your paint aside, shifting to sit beside him on the floor, making him chuckle.

“Do you know how they work?”

“Not a clue.” He shifted to sit and face you fully. Both of you crossed your legs, like tots ready to swap unearthing secrets in the school yard. 

“Well. What you're thinking of is magical portraits. The art of bringing the life of the subject to the painting.” You declared almost breathless. “But that's amature work.” 

He gave a delighted and startled laugh at your bold declaration, but it didn't impede you.

“The true magic is being able to bring life that isn't visible to the naked eye, to visual art forms.” You declared and gestured to your painting. Remus’s eyes flickered up and widened a bit. You gave an excitable bright smile as you both watched the misty fog in your painting shift, the faint stars in the background twinkle against the backdrop, and even the few faint sketches of students within the distant tower moving about. 

“Woah.” He whispered and you nodded eagerly. 

“Isn't it inspiring?” 

“It is.” He agreed instantly before he looked back at you. “But, doesn't it typically take magic from the subject for it to work effectively? How does this work?”

“Well, don't you think Hogwarts is possibly the most magical place in the world?” You argued and he chuckled at how easily you brushed off the question. 

Of course, no one truly knew how it worked. Not that the creator of the art method ever documented his findings. The only clear part of it was not everyone had the knack for it. You were lucky, since you were young, to be able to produce the art even before you got your magic.

You turned to Remus, who was watching with rapt attention.

“Do you want to try?” You offered, a mischievous smile taking over your features that looked startlingly familiar to Remus.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Me? Paint?”

“Why not? You might find you have a hidden talent!” You encouraged, handing him a brush and a palette. 

Reluctantly, he took the brush, glancing at the canvas as if it were a daunting task. Exaggerative hesitation to defile such a beautiful painting. You grinned, ready to guide him through it. Little did you know that in that moment, you had endeared yourself to Remus in a way not many people were able to. 

For the next few hours, well after curfew, you and Remus stayed perched on the RavenClaw tower, as you instructed him on what colors and paints to use. He was doing his best not to ‘ruin it’, which quickly went out the window when, in a moment of playful determination, you covered your hands in black paint and began to stamp your canvas. Convincing him that you truly didn't care what he did to the painting as long as it was fun.

Finally, you both snuck out of the RavenClaw tower as quietly as possible, trying not to wake anyone. Leading to you two in the halls, laughing and joking as he carried your canvas for you. 

“So, you're self taught?” He prodded and you nodded. 

“Yup! Have been doing this since I was.. four? Likely. My mother showed me.” You hummed and he gave a delighted laugh. 

“Really? So you're studying in your free time?”

“Mhm! It's not something that can really be.. taught. So Hogwarts doesn't have classes on it quite yet.” You waved your hand vaguely and he nodded. 

“You're telling me this now, after all that time trying? You got my hopes up, {L/N}.”

You giggled and he put his hand over his heart in fake anguish. 

“I was this close to changing career paths, you know.”

“Oh, I'm sure you were. I could see the headline now: 'Remus Lupin, Future Auror, Turns Painter After One Magical Evening.'” You laughed, nudging him playfully with your elbow. 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I’ll stick to Defense Against the Dark Arts, thank you very much. But this-” He gestured to the covered painting with a soft look. “You turned this mess into something amazing. You're truly talented.”

“I know.” You sang and he laughed, nudging you. 

“I'm serious, you know.”

“Sirius? I thought you were his boyfriend?”

“Oh Merlin, you're as bad as they are.”

You gave a laugh of your own and shoved him back. “Oh, you Marauders? Please tell me you're joking.” 

“No, no, truly. I think you'd get along. Gryffindor tower is next, right?” He prodded as you both entered the hall and stopped just before the dungeons’ entrance.

“Mhm.” 

“I'll see you tomorrow then?” He offered and held out his hand. You took it with a firm shake and you both said your goodbyes, hurrying over to the Slytherin common room.

~~~

“She's quite fun, showed me how to match pallets colors.” Remus rambled on to Lily who gave a delighted laugh at how excited he was to show her his new found artistic ability. They were sitting on the couch together, and he was exposing to her why his newest sweater vest was absolutely ruined 

“She sounds lovely.” Lily hummed, Sirius smirking from his spot between Remus’s knees, looking up at him. Eyes closed as one of the werewolf’s hands tangled in his loches of hair. 

“So lovely you should just marry her.” Sirius teased and Remus glared at him, giving a particularly rough tug at his boyfriend's hair. Sirius giving a chuckle and biting his lip. “I see no punishment here.”

“You-”

“Whose getting hitched?” James piped up from the stairs, jogging over and hopping onto the couch. Making the cushions bounce a bit as he got comfortable. “Evans, how can you let this happen? A Hogwarts marriage that's not our own?”

Lily gave a sigh and rolled her eyes, gathering her things and saying her goodbyes to Remus and Sirius, giving James the cold shoulder with a simple ‘Potter’ as he put his hand over his chest and sunk further into the cushions. 

“She says that name like it won't be hers someday.” He sighed fondly before he turned to look at the other two. “Where's Wormy?”

“He's on a date with a Hufflepuff.” Sirius snickered. “Some seventh year dude.”

“Huh.” James muttered and looked at the ceiling. “Didn't think he'd be the type to date older.”

“Yeah well-” Before Sirius could continue, Remus’s head peaked up from the couch when there was a knock on the portrait door. 

“That her?” Sirius asked as Remus slugged out of his seat to get around his clingy boyfriend. 

“Likely!” He shouted back and James tilted his head like a confused puppy.

“Who?” He quizzed Sirius and he smirked up at James.

“{Y/N} {L/N}, the artist extraordinaire.” Sirius replied with mock seriousness, adjusting his position to climb onto the couch. “Remus has been raving about her all evening.”

“{Y/N} {L/N}? Where have I heard of her before?” James leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “Oh! That paint girl? One who has been doing those weird paint studies around school?”

“Yeah, that’s her.” Sirius replied, grinning. “Apparently, she's doing some self study. Remus was practically glowing when he talked about her.”

James’s eyes widened with intrigue. “That’s brilliant! I’ve heard whispers about her- it’s supposed to be absolutely mesmerizing.”

“I wouldn't go that far.” You interjected, stepping through the portrait hole just in time to catch the end of the conversation. You were slightly out of breath, having hurried from the Slytherin dungeons to the Gryffindor tower, your paint-stained overalls still evidence of your artistic endeavors from yesterday. Looking around at the beautiful common room. A very faded almost gray-green scarf around your neck.

Burnt Scarlet and Butterscotch

The room fell silent as all eyes turned toward you. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You teased with a playful grin, glancing around at the familiar faces of the infamous boys. Sirius was looking you over curiously, with his typical sleazy grin, but James seemed absolutely slack jawed. After a moment of a wait you gave a small laugh, snapping James out of whatever trance he was in. Turning to look at Remus who had his eyes locked on your paints, making you smile.

His eyes flicked up to yours and he grinned back cheekily. “Where should I set up?”

“Over here, near the window.” He gestured over to a small nook. You hurried over and set your things down. Starting of course with a small tarp to set up your painting area without having to worry about ruining the flooring.

You set up two canvas this time and Remus helped you, confused at first before you set another pallet and paint brush down. “Alright, my student. Do you remember what I taught you?” You teased and he laughed, walking over to pick up the paint.

“You didn't have the bring this just for me.”

“Oh I know, how great am I, right?” You teased and sat down. Remus was still getting used to your deflective personality. Shrugging as he sat down and watched as you worked. Doing his best to copy your movements.

Meanwhile, Sirius and James were watching the scene curiously. Sirius couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the attention his boyfriend was giving this new girl, and James was unable to get over the fading color of your scarf. His jaw clenched a bit as he watched Lily walk over to introduce herself, also somehow roped in by your charm and even sitting down with you two to watch you paint.

James leaned back on the couch, arms crossed as he watched the interaction unfold before him. The sight of you, animated and joyful as you explained your artistic process to Remus and Lily, stirred something in him. It wasn't just the way you wielded your paintbrush with such confidence; it was the warmth that radiated from you. You were a Slytherin, so obviously, but you held the room like a Gryffindor. You worked with the precision of a RavenClaw. You were patient and thoughtful with Remus and his questions, like a HufflePuff.

He didn't get it.

“Oi, Prongs, you look like you’ve just swallowed a lemon.” Sirius whispered, nudging James with his elbow. “What’s got you all broody?”

“Nothin.” James replied, too quickly, his eyes still fixed on you. “Just… watching.”

Sirius followed his eyes and slowly smirked to himself. “She's getting under your skin too, huh?” 

James glanced at Sirius before his glare locked back on you as you instructed Lily to take your paintbrush and gestured to the canvas he couldn't see. “What's her deal? Why's she so.. smiley?” 

The ‘as a Slytherin’ part came unspoken to both of the boys.

“You know, Remus says she knows Crouch.” 

“Of course she does.” He muttered, eyes locked on the way you rolled up your sleeve and cuffed them. How you loosened your collar, and leaned down, showing the upper valley to your-

And suddenly the floor was a bit more interesting. He turned to look at Sirius who’s lip twitched as he watched Remus rub his thumb across his cheek and smudge some black paint on himself.

“... Merlin, he's bloody fit, ain't he?” Sirius muttered and James gave a loud exaggerated groan.

“I'm shocked Remus is entertaining her at all.” James finally muttered and sunk deeper into his sheet like a pouty child. Sirius nodded.

James watched with narrowed eyes as you laughed along with Remus and Lily, his annoyance bubbling up to the surface. Without really thinking it through, he pushed himself up from the couch, making his way over to where you were sitting with the paintbrushes and palettes laid out neatly.

He made it look casual, like he was just getting a better view, but as he stepped closer, his foot "accidentally" caught the jar of paint water perched near the edge of the table. It tipped, and time seemed to slow as the murky water splashed all over your leggings that just peaked form under your overalls, staining the fabric a dark, ugly color.

"Oh! Whoops, sorry 'bout that," James said, not quite managing to hide the smirk tugging at his lips. His tone was just on the edge of sincere, but the glint in his eyes gave him away.

You glanced down at the mess, then up at James, and for a moment it seemed like the whole room held its breath. James just waiting for the snake to snap its jaws at him. But instead of getting angry, instead of snapping at him like he expected, you just smiled- a bright, genuine smile that made James's stomach twist uncomfortably.

"No worries, Potter.” You mused, brushing it off as if nothing had happened. "A bit of extra color never hurt anyone."

James blinked, taken aback. He hadn’t expected that. He muttered something that might have been an apology, but the way you smiled at him; completely unbothered- only made his irritation flare up more. He turned sharply on his heel, stalking back to the couch where Sirius was watching with an amused expression.

"Smooth, mate," Sirius drawled, arching an eyebrow.

"Shut it," James muttered, sinking back into his seat, his eyes flicking back to you as you continued painting like nothing had happened.

---

Over the next few days, James found himself increasingly irked by you. No matter what he did, you never seemed fazed. He "accidentally" knocked over your brushes during lunch one day, scattering them across the floor. You just laughed, picking them up without complaint. He charmed your canvas to keep sliding down whenever you set it up, but you only adjusted it each time, humming to yourself as if it were all just part of the process. He even tried to charm the colors in your palette to mix into a murky brown- but you simply shrugged, saying something about it being a "happy little accident" and turned it into a whole new painting.

Each time, you just smiled at him, that infuriatingly calm smile that made James feel like he was the one being childish. It was driving him mad, and Sirius, for one, found the whole thing endlessly entertaining.

One morning, James was sitting in the Great Hall, absently poking at his breakfast, when he heard a determined set of footsteps approaching. He looked up just in time to see you standing over him, hands on your hips, your eyes sharp. If James was a smarter boy, he would of been able to see the faint red rims around your eye sockets and the twitch of your lip.

"Potter.” You huffed, your voice carrying just enough edge to catch the attention of the surrounding students. "Give it back."

James blinked, feigning innocence. "Give what back?"

"Don't play dumb.” You snapped, leaning over the table, your face inches from his. "My paintbrush. The one with the silver handle. I know you took it."

James opened his mouth to deny it, but the look in your eyes made him hesitate. There was something different today- a fire that hadn’t been there before. He was finally getting a reaction from you. He felt his resolve waver, and before he could stop himself, he found his hand reaching into his robes, to pull out the paintbrush in question. Only.. it wasn't there.

James blinked, his smirk faltering as he patted the pocket where he thought he’d stashed your paintbrush. It wasn’t there. A pang of unease settled in his chest as he searched through the other pockets of his robes, the smirk fading completely as he came up empty-handed.

“Are you kidding me?” You straightened, your eyes narrowing. “Potter, don’t play games right now. That brush… it’s important to me.”

There was a crack in your voice, something raw that caught James off guard. The confidence you always carried seemed to waver, your voice betraying a vulnerability that made James's stomach sink with guilt.

“I… I swear it was right here,” James muttered, now frantically checking every inch of his robes, his face growing paler with each empty pocket. The students around them had grown quiet, sensing the sudden seriousness of the situation.

Remus was glaring daggers into his very soul, even Sirius hid his face away in his hand.

You stood there, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your lips pressed together as you fought to maintain composure. You looked away from him, swallowing hard. “Potter, that was my mother’s. She gave it to me before…” You trailed off, your voice breaking slightly before you cleared your throat, trying to regain control.

James’s heart sank. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t thought. All he’d wanted was to rile you up, to see you react. He hadn’t meant for this.

“Alright,” He said quickly, standing up from the table. His voice was more earnest now, the usual cockiness gone. “I’ll help you find it. It must have fallen out somewhere. Let’s go check my dorm.”

You didn’t say anything, just nodded stiffly, blinking rapidly as you turned on your heel and started walking, James trailing after you. The Great Hall was eerily quiet as they left, whispers following in their wake.

“She's too damn nice.” Remus muttered and Sirius sighed. About to say something, before he earned a glare from Remus too. 

Lily tutted. “As if you weren't involved in anything he's done to her so far.”

~~~

The walk to the Gryffindor common room felt like it took forever, the silence between the two of you heavy. James kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, the way your jaw was clenched, the way you kept your eyes straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze.

When they reached the boys' dormitory, James immediately began tearing through his things, searching every nook and cranny. He pulled open drawers, checked under his bed, even rummaged through the pockets of his other robes. But the paintbrush was nowhere to be found.

He turned to you, his hands dropping to his sides in defeat. “I… I’m so sorry, {Y/N}, I can’t find it. Maybe it fell somewhere else, maybe-”

“Stop,” You cut him off, your voice barely a whisper. Your eyes were glassy, tears welling up as you looked at him. The fight you’d been trying to keep inside seemed to crumble all at once, your shoulders sagging as you sank down onto the edge of his bed. “It’s gone, isn’t it?”

James stared at you, his heart aching at the sight of you like this. He’d never imagined he’d see you cry, and knowing he was the cause of it made him feel worse than he ever thought possible. Suddenly all those weeks of trying to get under your skin seemed more of a success, if this was the result of a truly damaging prank.

“I…” He didn’t know what to say, how to fix this. He knelt down in front of you, his voice gentle. “I’ll find it, I promise. I’ll look everywhere, I’ll…”

You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It’s not just a paintbrush, Potter. It was hers. It was all I had left of her.”

James’s chest tightened, and he reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on your knee. “I’m so sorry. I… I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I’ll find it. I swear I will.”

You looked down at his hand, then back at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of pain and exhaustion. “Just… don’t,” You whispered, your voice breaking. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Potter.”

And with that, you stood up, wiping at your eyes as you turned and left the dormitory, leaving James there, staring after you, feeling more helpless than he ever had before.

~~~

James had never felt guilt like this. It gnawed at him, making his usual swagger feel empty. Over the next few days, he found himself constantly scanning the corridors, the classrooms, even the common rooms, hoping to catch a glimpse of you but you were always just out of reach. Each time he spotted you, you either turned and walked the other way or simply looked right through him as if he didn't exist.

It wasn't long before the whole school knew what had happened. How James Potter had lost something precious of yours, something irreplaceable. And unlike other times, where his mischief had earned him admiration or laughter, this time he received disapproving glares and whispers behind his back. How he hurt the only Slytherin everyone seemed to adore. Even Remus had given him the cold shoulder for a while, and Lily refused to talk to him outright.

One day, after Transfiguration, James caught sight of you slipping out of the classroom. He hurried to catch up, weaving through the crowd of students, his heart pounding in his chest. When he finally reached you, he touched your arm gently.

“{Y/N}, please, just give me a second.”

You turned slowly, your eyes meeting his. There was a guardedness there that hadn’t been before, a wall that you had built between yourself and him. It hurt more than James could put into words.

Even then, you took time to notice; Cinnamon Brown in his eyes.

 James Potter was used to rejection, Lily Evans ran him like it was a damned sport, but something about your usually positive beaming face turning to a frown at the sight of him wrecked him.

“What do you want, Potter?” You asked, your voice tired, as if dealing with him was just another chore.

He swallowed, struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry. Really. I never meant for things to go this far. I’ve been looking for your brush, I swear it. I… I just want to make it up to you.”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “There’s nothing you can do, alright? Just leave it, Potter.”

“But-”

“No,” You said firmly. “I don’t want anything to do with you. You’ve done enough. I- I thought you were funny, that you could tell a good joke. Take one too. But this- no. No, just leave me be, Potter.”

James flinched at your words, the finality of them cutting deeper than he expected. He watched as you turned and walked away, the distance between you growing with every step.

~~~

James's heart sank deeper with each day that passed without a sign of the lost paintbrush. He had scoured the castle, enlisted the help of some of his housemates, and even tried asking around discreetly in other houses, but to no avail. It was as if the brush had vanished into thin air, leaving behind a growing rift between him and you.

Sitting in the Gryffindor common room, James slumped on a couch, staring blankly at the fire crackling in the hearth. Sirius and Remus were there too, the latter still showing signs of his displeasure over the whole ordeal.

"I messed up, didn't I?" James murmured, not really expecting an answer.

"You did.” Remus deadpanned, not looking up from his book. "And you know it's not just about the brush. It's about how you've been treating her from the start."

Sirius, lounging with his back against the armrest, watched James closely. "You've been a right prat, Prongs- even I gave in after the first prank.” He remarked and avoided Remus’s slight glare. “You didn't just step on her toes, you danced the bloody Tango on them."

James sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I just wanted to get a rise out of her, see her react. But now... I can't stop thinking about how I made her feel. It's like I'm seeing myself for the first time and it's not a pretty picture."

"Sounds like you've got it bad," Sirius said with a smirk.

Remus closed his book, finally giving James his full attention, not exactly happy with what he was hearing. "It's not just guilt, James. It's empathy. You're finally understanding the impact of your actions on others."

James looked from Sirius to Remus, the realization slowly dawning on him. "It's not like I like her. She's just.. pretty. You know, I hate to see a pretty face so upset.” He scoffed and looked back to Sirius who arched his eyebrow and smirked wider as he realized his remark wasn't as playful as he intended.

“That right?” Sirius pushed and James huffed. 

“That’s right.”

“When was the last time you bothered poor Evans?” Sirius challenged and Remus gave a low groan. Great, James just couldn't leave his friends alone. 

He watched in a bit of sympathy as the dumb boys jaw slowly went limp and his eyes widened. “Merlin, I think I like her.” He mumbled in absolute dread. “Like really like her. And I've gone and ruined it before it could even start."

"Well, you can't undo what you've done, but you can start making amends," Remus advised, a softer tone replacing his earlier reprimand.

"How? She doesn’t even want to see me," James lamented.

"Give her time and show her you've changed.. And Merlin, don't do this just to win her over." Remus huffed.

James pondered, his gaze drifting toward the flickering fire. "What if she never forgives me?"

"Then you’ll learn a valuable lesson in respect, won't you?" Remus said sternly. "You can't force forgiveness, James. All you can do is prove that you're better than your worst mistake."

“Does Merlin speak straight through you?” James muttered to Remus who swatted him with the book across his lap, before standing. 

“I need new friends.” He mumbled as he walked away.

Sirius laughed and James pouted, sinking back into the cushions of the couch. Pondering what would be the next best move when earning your forgiveness. He could live with never being with you, he always found the concept of lost love romantic. 

What he couldn't do was live knowing he hurt you without even trying for your forgiveness.

~~~

For the next few weeks, Hogwarts transformed into an entirely different realm for James. Determined to right his wrongs, he threw himself into the role of a repentant suitor with the zeal of a true 70s romantic hero; one who was more often clumsy than charming.

One morning at breakfast, armed with an armful of apology notes penned in his best handwriting (which still looked suspiciously like chicken scratch), James tried to navigate the treacherous waters of your friends’ skepticism and Barty’s disdain. He handed out his notes, his voice tinged with hopeful earnestness that made a few of your friends stifle their giggles. “Could you- um, would you make sure {Y/N} gets these? They’re, well, important.” His cheeks flamed red as he stumbled over his words, but the sincerity in his eyes earned him a few nods. The stuttering and foolish boy even earning a smile from Pandora Rosier who assured him she'd ‘do her best.’

He was getting desperate, at every shred of attention you spared him. During potions class, James attempted to be your knight in shining armor, which, predictably, went about as well as a troll in a ballet shop. When he noticed you struggling to reach a vial of newt eyes on a high shelf, he leapt up, nearly knocking over his own cauldron in his eagerness to assist. “Allow me!” 

But his overly enthusiastic grab sent the vial spinning into the air, only to crash down right next to Slughorn’s feet, splattering the hem of his robes with an unsightly goo. 

“Sorry, Professor!” James winced, while you suppressed a snicker at the sheer absurdity of his gallantry. Graveling even as he was sentenced to detention.

Now, James knew that if he wanted to be truthful with you it started with his behaviors. Which, started with him being truly himself. So, much to Remus’s annoyance, James turned to grander gestures. 

He managed to convince the house elves to let him borrow the kitchens for an evening to bake you a peace offering. Armed with sugar, flour, and an overabundance of misplaced confidence, he set about creating what he envisioned would be a culinary masterpiece. The result was a lopsided cake with icing that read, "Forgive me?" in wobbly letters. Only, half of the cake was callapsed, making it seem much more like a command of “give me”. 

He presented it to you during dinner, his hands shaking slightly as he placed it on the table. The entire Great Hall watched in anticipation as you took a bite. The cake was oddly salty, but when your lips twitched into a reluctant smile, James felt a surge of pure elation. Maybe, just maybe, his efforts were thawing your icy regard.

He even tried serenading you one evening in the common room, guitar in hand- a skill he had hastily learned over the past week. His voice cracked more than once, and the guitar was slightly out of tune, but he sang with such heartfelt passion that even the portraits along the walls seemed to listen in. He crooned to you, mangling the melody as he went. You watched, half-amused and half-astonished, as this boy who’d never shown an interest in music before butchered the song with endearing enthusiasm. Everyone in your common room appalled.

Through it all, James's exploits became the talk of Hogwarts. Whispers followed him everywhere- some mocking, others admiring. Some even amused that his attention had switched from Lily Evans, to you after years of pining. But beneath the laughter and the rumors, a thread of respect grew among his peers. Here was James Potter, chasing redemption as doggedly as he’d once chased after mischief.

Late one night, as James sat by the fire reflecting on his recent life choices, Sirius plopped down next to him, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “Prongs, you’re a bleeding heart wrapped in a jester’s cloak,” Sirius shook his head with a grin.

James laughed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I just need to know she forgives me, Padfoot. That I’ve made things right.”

“Well, mate, at the very least, you’ve given the whole school a good show,” Sirius chuckled. “And who knows? Maybe our little Slytherin is writing her own notes now; ‘How to Tame Your Marauder’ or something more poetic.”

James smiled, gazing into the flickering flames, hopeful and a bit wiser. In his quest to win your forgiveness, he’d stumbled across something unexpected. Something worth it. Not just you, but a desire- no, need- to better himself. Every time he saw you smile, made you laugh, roll your eyes, he wanted to be someone better. Someone who deserved to find themselves feeling the magic of being in love with a girl like {Y/N} {L/N}.

And maybe he'd even find himself worthy of her affection in return.

~~~

It all came to a head one day when he was scouring the school once again for your paintbrush. He had lost track of time in his mindless routine and forgotten about potions class. He was a half hour late, dashing into the classroom in a ruffled mess.

His breathless arrival didn’t go unnoticed, especially by you, who eyed him warily from your spot at the potions bench. Professor Slughorn eyed him with a mixture of irritation and curiosity. 

“Mr. Potter, so kind of you to join us,” Slughorn boomed, sarcasm heavy in his tone. “Twenty points from Gryffindor for your tardiness, it's almost as if you left to miss my instruction specifically.” 

James grimaced but still tried to flash his playful smile that usually meant a clap back or snark. Instead, it was his form of a hesitant apology. “Sorry Professor-”

“I am not going over the instructions for Amortentia a third time today, is anyone willing to assist Mr. Potter?” Slughorn announced form the front of the class. There was a long moment of silence. Even with everyone slowly growing fond of him, no one was willing to drag down such an important project for the foolish boy.

Then, from across the room, your voice cut through the tension. "I can help him, Professor," you said, your voice calm but with an edge that didn’t entirely mask your reluctance. Everyone's heads turned towards you, including a visibly surprised James.

"Very well, {Y/N}. Please ensure Mr. Potter catches up without disrupting the rest of the class," Slughorn replied with a nod, turning back to his notes.

James approached your bench, a mix of gratitude and nervousness evident on his face. As he took the seat next to you, he whispered, "Thank you, I really mean it."

As James settled beside you at the potions bench, his hands fumbled slightly with the equipment. Slughorn, having returned to the front of the class, continued with his lecture, oblivious to the dramatic love story unfolding at the back.

James cleared his throat softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Really, {Y/N}, thanks for helping me out here. I know I've been... well, less than admirable lately."

You didn't look at him immediately, focusing instead on measuring out rose thorns with precision. "Just start by adding these to the cauldron slowly.” You instructed, handing him the thorns. "And stir- don't let it settle."

As he followed your instructions, his movements were careful, mirroring the cautious tone he was taking with you. After a moment, you finally met his gaze. "You've been trying hard, haven't you?" You muttered, not unkindly. Your eyes drifting over his focused expression and having to fight a smile.

James paused, the stirring rod in his hand still. "I have. I want to make things right, not just with you but... well, I've been thinking a lot about things I've done. I'm sorry, truly."

You watched him, the sincerity in his eyes striking a chord that made your heart ache. What had you done to the famous James Potter? His efforts over the past few weeks hadn’t gone unnoticed- it was quite entertaining. From the awkwardly presented cake to his out-of-tune serenades, his actions spoke far more than his words ever did. "I've noticed.” You whispered. "It's been hard to miss, really. Hogwarts hasn't been this entertaining in years."

A small smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "I guess I've made a bit of a spectacle of myself."

"Just a bit.” You chuckled, the tension easing between you as the familiar rhythm of your banter found its footing again.

Encouraged by that sweet sound of your laugh and the pretty way your lips curled into a smile he just adored-, James continued, "If there’s any chance I could, you know, maybe start over? I’d understand if not but-"

"You're really laying it on thick with the humility, Potter. It’s a good look on you.” You teased gently, turning back to the potion, which was now bubbling contentedly. "Let's just take it one day at a time. But, yeah, we can start with being friends."

James let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, relief washing over him. "Friends, right. And if you ever want to throw more paint at me, just say when."

"Be careful, I might take you up on that.” You warned with a playful grin.

As the class progressed, you both fell into an easy rhythm, the earlier awkwardness replaced by a budding conversation. James was surprisingly adept once he focused, and you found yourself laughing more genuinely than you had in a while at his self-deprecating jokes and clumsy yet earnest attempts at potion-making.

By the end of the class, not only had you two successfully brewed a passable batch of Amortentia, which thankfully didn't smell like sweat and regret. James had shown you a different side of himself, one that was humbly trying to make amends and move forward. And as you packed up your supplies, sharing a light joke about the day's mishaps, it felt like a fresh start was truly possible.

James took the chance to smile back at Remus and Sirius. Sirius seemed delighted for him, and Remus seemed hesitant. But it was okay, because you hadn't just forgiven him. You were willing to be his friend.

~~~

James slowly realised that being your friend was likely one of the best feelings he's had in a while. He thought everyone you had met were your friends, considering how sweet and lovely you were with everyone. 

But he was wrong.

There was a crazy side to you that only a small few saw. He learned it quickly, that you were sweet, kind, understanding- yes.

But you were an absolute gremlin when you wanted to be.

James discovered this one evening when you invited him to join you for a late-night painting session- a tradition you shared with a select few. Remus told him about them, but he never really understood just how amazing it felt to have your full attention like this. He had anticipated a serene evening, maybe learning a bit more about your magical painting techniques. Instead, he found himself in the middle of a chaotic spree of creativity that involved more prank-like antics than actual painting.

How in the bloody hell had he not known you properly?

As James entered the room, he was immediately hit by a flying glob of paint. It splattered across his face, dripping down his cheek. He stood, stunned for a moment, before hearing your laughter from behind an easel.

“Oh Potter, rule one. Never let your guard down.” You taunted and quickly hurried over to your canvas. Able to notice how the bright pink paint clung to his Jet Black hair.

Wiping the paint off with a sleeve, James couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a spark of challenge light up within him. "Oh, it’s on, {Y/N}." He responded, grabbing a palette loaded with vibrant colors.

What ensued was a wild mess of laughter, artistic ‘attacks,’ and impromptu paint duels that left both of you covered in every hue imaginable. Hindsight is 20/20- he shouldn't of worn his school robes. It was during these moments, dodging your playful ambushes and crafting hasty shields out of canvas boards, that James realized how comfortable he felt around you. Your laughter became a soundtrack he looked forward to, and your approving nods at his clumsy attempts at art warmed him more than he expected.

“It's humiliating how good you're getting at this.” You teased from your perch on a stool, James chuckled and playfully flipped you off.

“So much sass. And if I credited this to my teacher?”

“You should, I'm bloody good.” You laughed, wiping your nose before sneezing away some of the wet paint you forgot was on your hand.

That night became a normal accurance, it was like you two never fought. You two would find yourself laying on a tarp full of paint. You were laying on your back with your legs against the wall, and he was sitting with his back against said wall. Both of you looking off into dead space as you both talked about the most random and ridiculous things; from the controversial taste of pasties to the value and control one had over each other's fates.

“You know, everytime I come here, I remember why I've fallen for you.”

His words came out before he could stop himself. His jaw dropped at his own broken honesty, horrified that he had ruined the moment. 

After a moment of silence, he looked down to see you smiling at the ceiling. 

“Is that so?”

James swallowed thick and clenched his jaw a bit.

“Yeah.”

“That's awfully sweet of you.”

Your words were light, but they carried a weight that settled over James with an unexpected warmth. He watched you, admiring the serene expression on your face, highlighted by the ambient light that filtered through the scattered paint jars around you. He welcomed the twist of his gut like an old friend.

"I mean it, though," James continued, a hint of vulnerability in his voice as he leaned his head back against the wall, his gaze still fixed on you. "You make it easy to be myself, to be better. You've turned what started as a mess into something... pretty great."

“And isn't that just life?” You teased softly. “Sappy, messy, and yet an absolute masterpiece.”

���Is that what you truly believe?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I just say what makes sense to me in the moment.”

“You're a pain.” He chuckled and looked down, seeing your smile had grown tenfold. Your nose scrunching up and the corners of your eyes wrinkling.

James couldn't resist the infectious energy of your smile. It pulled a laugh from deep within him, a genuine, carefree sound that filled the room- he was screwed. "You're brilliant, you know that? Absolutely infuriating, but brilliant."

You shifted to sit up, leaning against the wall next to him, paint smears marking both your faces and clothes. "I'll take that as a compliment, Potter. Coming from you, it means quite a lot."

And that was all. James hadn't even registered your soft rejection, just relieved you seemed to accept him regardless. He leaned his head on your shoulder and you flicked off some stray pain from his nose. He smiled, all teeth, before he got up and forced you to your feet. Pulling you into a dance that made you cackle like a proper witch. And that was enough. To see you so bloody happy was enough.

~~~

James learned to share you quickly. With Barty always on your heel or Pandora hovering listlessly at your side. 

He even grew accustomed to seeing you draped in the easy camaraderie of Ravenclaws and your fellow Slytherins, your infectious laugh filling the spaces you all occupied together. It was during these times that James learned to appreciate you in a new light- not just as a friend or a fleeting crush, but as a vibrant part of his Hogwarts experience.

It wasn’t always easy, of course. The sting of his previous actions lingered like a shadow at the edge of his thoughts, a reminder of the consequences of his thoughtlessness. Yet, each shared smile and each shared conversation with you wove a new thread of respect and affection into the fabric of his daily life.

As winter deepened and the snow began to blanket Hogwarts, bringing with it the festive buzz of the upcoming holiday season, James found himself more reflective. The common room was often aglow with the warm light of the fire, students gathered around in cozy clusters, and it was here that James found a new sense of belonging. Not just as a Marauder, but as a friend among a wider circle that included you.

One chilly evening, as the wind howled outside and the frost painted delicate patterns on the castle windows, James approached you with a tentative peace offering- a sketchbook. Its cover was a simple, deep blue, but inside, he had taken the time to fill the first page with a clumsy yet earnest attempt at a magical painting. It wasn’t animated like yours, but the colors were vibrant, a silent testament to his efforts to understand your world.

You accepted the sketchbook with a surprised chuckle, flipping through the blank pages before pausing at his painting. “This is for me?” You asked, a softness in your voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Yeah,” James nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking uncharacteristically shy. “I thought… well, I thought you could use it to capture the winter. I know it’s not magical like yours, but-”

“It’s perfect, James,” You interrupted, a sincere smile breaking across your face. “Really. Thank you.”

That smile, that simple moment, seemed to close a chapter on the earlier tensions between you two.

“Of course, it's not free.”

“Id expect nothing less.” You teased and he chuckled. 

“Quiddich. You never go to the games. All I ask, next week, come and cheer me on?” He offered and you couldn't up but laugh. “Are you asking for a lucky charm, Potter?”

”Not any Lucky charm. Mine.” 

~~~

The day of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin arrived with the usual buzz of excitement and rivalry. The stands were packed, a sea of red and green as students cheered boisterously for their respective houses. James, his nerves on edge, had been secretly looking forward to seeing you in the crowd, especially after your promise to wear Gryffindor red. It was a small victory, but for him, it meant the world.

However, as he scanned the crowd from his broom high above, his heart sank a little. There you were, indeed wrapped in a bold, red scarf, but still cheering enthusiastically for Slytherin. The sight was confusing and, if he was honest with himself, a bit disappointing. Throughout the match, James tried to focus on the game, but his eyes inevitably kept drifting back to you. Each cheer for Slytherin felt like a playful taunt, and his competitive spirit took a hit each time.

Despite his best efforts, the game didn't go well for Gryffindor. Slytherin was sharp, coordinated, and relentless. When the Slytherin seeker caught the Snitch, sealing their victory, a wave of green cheers swept the stands. James landed his broom with a tight expression, his disappointment not just in the loss, but in the mixed signals you seemed to be sending.

The teams made their way back to the locker rooms amidst mixed reactions from the crowd. While his team consoled each other and talked about what went wrong, James couldn’t shake off his gloom. He avoided the usual post-game mingling, instead heading straight for the Gryffindor common room, his mood as dark as the clouds above.

As he slumped into an armchair by the fire, the common room mostly empty due to the ongoing celebrations outside, Remus and Sirius walked in. They took one look at him and exchanged a glance.

“Tough game, Prongs,” Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Yeah. And I guess the whole wearing-red thing didn’t mean what I thought it did,” James muttered, not meeting his friends' eyes.

Remus, ever the perceptive one, added softly, “Maybe there’s more to it, James. Did you ask her about it?”

Before James could respond, the portrait hole opened, and you stepped in, still wearing the red scarf, your expression a mix of concern and determination. Seeing you, Sirius and Remus excused themselves with knowing smiles, leaving the two of you alone.

James, as avoidant as ever and riddled with emotions he didn't want to confront, stood sharply and turned towards his dormitory. You gawked at him before furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance, a pout taking over your expression. You hurried after him.

“What's wrong, Jamie?”

Oh Merlin.

“I don't want to talk to you.” James hissed out and shoved his way into his room. You huffed and shoved the door open and walked in, closing the door behind yourself.

“You're not being very fair right now. I'm sorry I couldn't win the game for you but-”

“Do not make this about the win.” 

“What is this about then, Jamie? I don't get it!” 

“Stop calling me that.” He hissed and turned to face you, making you flinch. 

“What's gotten into you?” You pushed cautiously and James scoffed.

“I can't do this! I don't get you!” He strained. “I tell you I've fallen for you and you brushed it off. I ask you to cheer for me and you show up in red, cheering for Slytherin!”

“James, it's my house.” You muttered softly and you saw his shoulders sag.

“Yeah but- I just figured-” He gave a long shaky sigh. Turning around and sitting on the bed, running his hands over his face.

You moved closer, taking a seat next to him on the bed, your own emotions swirling. Even then you were able to take notice. His teeth were strained by his jaw, yet they held the same Ballet White. His robes shimmering with Burnt Scarlet and Butterscotch. His eyes that locked onto yours so vulnerable, giving that perfect Cinnamon Brown. Then the way his hair shagged over his Jet Black lochs. You couldn't look away. Not from all your favorite colors.

“James, I wore red because you asked me to. I thought it was a way to show you that... that I care. But I'm still a Slytherin, and my friends were down there on that field too. I was cheering for them, not against you."

James looked at you, the frustration softening in his eyes as he processed your words. "I know, I know. It's just... everything got mixed up in my head. Seeing you there, in red, but not for Gryffindor. It felt like you were there, but not really with me."

You took his hand gently, squeezing it. "I was there for you, James. Maybe not in the way you expected, but I was there because you matter to me. I cheered for Slytherin, but I wore your favorite color. Can't I support both?"

James let out a small laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders. "When you put it like that, it sounds perfectly reasonable. I just... I guess I let the game get to me more than I should have."

"You're passionate, that's not a bad thing. But sometimes, you might see competition where there's just... affection." You offered him a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood further.

He returned your smile, this time with more warmth. "Affection, huh? So, you admit there’s something?" James teased, trying to shift back to his usual playful demeanor.

"Maybe I do.” You teased back, nudging him lightly. "But don't let it go to your head. We still have a lot to figure out, starting with how to handle house rivalries during Quidditch matches."

James chuckled, his spirits visibly lifted. "We'll figure it out. As long as it means I get to see you in Gryffindor red, maybe I can even cheer for Slytherin once in a while."

"That’s a deal.” You agreed, feeling the gap between you closing as the misunderstanding cleared up.

Just then, the door burst open, and Sirius poked his head in, a mischievous grin on his face. "Are we all forgiven and friendly now? Because there’s a victory party for Slytherin, and I was hoping to steal your girl for a dance, Prongs."

James rolled his eyes, but his smile was genuine. "Only if you promise to bring her back, Padfoot."

You laughed, standing up and offering James a hand up. "Let’s go then. And maybe we can start a new tradition- dancing together, no matter who wins the match."

James took your hand, standing and pulling you into a quick, grateful hug. "Sounds like a perfect plan."

Before he could pull away fully, you stole a quick kiss against his cheek. He gave a startled huff, staring at you with wide eyes. Before he could scamper out any response, or even kiss you back, you pulled away and sent him a wink. Hurrying after a laughing Sirius as he took your arm like a gentleman would.

It took James two to three business days for his system to turn back on. “H-hey, wait!” He shouted after you, stumbling over himself and hitting his foot against the bed. Giving a small curse before he stumbled back after you, not hearing the soft clank of something falling from between his head board and the dresser. 

Later that night, you two would find your mother's paintbrush, nestled between his bed posts and pillows. 

What were you doing in James Potter’s bed so late? 

Experiencing a masterpiece.

[lovelybunnis]

summary: shaving preferences with our faves <3

cw: explicit content under the cut // description/talks of body hair

m's notes: sorry for the bad grammar, i made this in a rush before this left my mind! but bring back having full bushes in fics! i’m tired of y/n and char being cleanly shaven!

full bush

luffy

he hardly showers (it’s cannon) so what makes you think he’d want to take the time to shave? maybe a rare trim but it’s still a bush no matter what. he never cared to shave or trim, to him its unnecessary and is a hassle to keep up with -- might as well just let it grow.

logan

might just be me, but that mutant man definitely has one. he’s hairy all over and doesn’t hide it, so why would he when it come to his cock! definitely has a very apparent and thick happy trail that gets admired by anyone who’s lucky so see it.

guts

guts doesn’t have the time to shave. plain and simple. always being on edge for the next attack that may happen to himself or his friends; he can’t spend his time doing shit that isn’t important to him.

before the eclipse, guts would trim regularly and have the occasional full shave down there when he felt like it.

but after? it’s the last thing on his mind.

yamato

similar to luffy, he would rarely do anything about his bush. due to his devil fruit and all it makes it harder to keep up with his body hair anyways, so why bother? trimming is practically useless since the hair would grow back in less than a few weeks — but he'd still try if he knew ace was stopping by <3

ace

70% of the time, he has a bush, the other 30% is when he gets the motivation to or if he knows he's gonna get some play that night.

when he does trim, it allows the freckles around his cock to be more noticeable. its honestly adorable and a great touch :3

eustass

he couldn’t give any fucks to shaving. to him, it makes him feel more confident about himself (his cock) so trimming or shaving would never be on the table for him. but if his partner wanted, he'd slightly trim it.

trimmed

usopp

he’d be a professional trimmer, never deviating from his trimming duties. to him, it make his cock the center piece, perfectly trimmed pubes that surround it — call him the downstairs barber!

law

he only trims, believe it or not its extremely rare for him to let his pubes grow out past a certain length. if he does its if his partner prefers it or if he's too busy to do so. i head cannon that he free balls so i can imagine the constant friction being uncomfortable to him.

zoro

he'd trim due to how sweaty he gets due to his constant training. always being on the move and having a bush is a horrible combination if you don't shower often, so for the sake of nami and sanji complaining about his stench, he trims.

i apologize for the shitty writing but i needed out of my mind before i went insane, i promise the next piece will be better </3

[evilminji]

You know? I kinda wonder...

In a Self Insert type scenario, in Star Wars?

They would be MUCH more open to listening to "buddy, a storm's comin'" type warnings. Their Cannon knowledge, even if spotty, would probably echo with the Force and draw its attention to them somewhat. Because they KNOW.

KNOW what is going to happen. Not guess. Not assume. KNOW. Like the Force does. And that? Coupled with their inherent strangeness? Would make them the oddly colored duck of the flock, as it were. Not Super Important... buuuut? Easy to spot.

One of the Force's Blorbos.

Just cause, really. Cause they look funny. The Force doesn't even have a plan for um! But they turned up, ate the Force's food, and look at their wittle faaaace~☆! So it's keeping them. You know... assuming they survive.

Which?

Brings me to my point?

Since they LISTEN? The Force probably chatters like a mofo. Since a Self Insert would be anxious and constantly ASKING for wisdom. For help. A friend. Guidance of any kind. The Force would be draped around them like a particularly pleased with itself shoulder cat. A hovering backseat driver.

Because you DO keep asking, after all.

It's like muscle memory. Building strength. Not... not GREAT, in all actuality? Because Self Insert is avoiding making their OWN choices, probably out of fear? But on the OTHER hand? Both of them KNOW that there is literally a Sith Master like... less then 5 minutes away from where they live. Constantly.

And they are a Youngling.

So???

At What Point?? Does the Force? Engage "Fuck it, we take our baby and run" protocols?

Just? FULL ON "you stop midway through making your dinner, turn off the soup, pick up your kids, leave the house, and NEVER LOOK BACK". Because? Yes. The Jedi KNIGHTS and MASTERS may have vows to try and protect the people of the Republic?

BUT THE YOUNGLINGS DO NOT.

They, in fact, need to be PROTECTED.

And if the Force itself? Says "if you stay here, they WILL die."? You gotta go. Hopefully? You have enough warning to like... pack a ship. But, ya might NOT. Might just be "aaaand, everybody put down your pads! Suprise field trip to Anywhere Else! IMMEDIATELY. Single file, younglings. No running!" Like?

What would you do?

I kinda wanna see it.

Just this somber, vaguely haunted, crechling walking up to import figures like Madam Nu and Yoda going "if I tell you The Force told me we have to take the younglings, ALL OF THEM, and any history we think is worth preserving, and LEAVE... would you listen? Or would you let us die here?" With their tiny lil face and to serious expression.

Like a prophet of Doom.

And WHERE? Exactly? Are they supposed to go? Oh, simple. They are to Trust In The Force. And let it guide them. Out IN THE UNKNOWN REGIONS of wild space! Because THATS fine! Is this a joke?

No.

No the youngling is dead serious. Terrifyingly serious. Has been studying how to pilot a shop like they will have to do so THEMSELF. Asking questions that paint a concerning portrait of a child that fully intends to take their peers on this journey, with or without them.

And the Force? The Force says they MUST. That it is impossibly important they DO.

WELL THEN....

Do they... TELL anybody?

No. Not a single soul. Specifically, not a single soul In The Senate. Ah. Concerning! Guess we're? "Losing" a ship in the war? Oh dear. Such casualties. All those lives. Oh noooooo, and such and so forth. UNRELATED note! It's been FAR too long since this temple was cleaned! Unacceptable. You, random clones definitely not assigned to that ship we definitely just lost! Help us... clean!

Just?

The power of "fuck it, we took our ball and went home/left"? Should be USED more in fics. The Force TOTALLY knows where some sweet, sweet habitable planets are. You'll NEVER fuckin find them if they don't want you too! An entire temple of Jedi asking for the SAME thing? Versus a crusty lil shit?

They asked first. And nicely!

With THIS, balance is maintained. Not through FORCE. But through walking away for a bit. Allowing OTHERS to decide if this is what THEY want for themselves. Order 66 may or may not still happen? But? At most? All you would kill is the current fighting adults. Not the teachers. Not the elders. And CERTAINLY not the young.

They? Are far away. Where the Force is still clear and the light is strong. Growing up. Reflecting on what went wrong. Farming. Building a new temple with the Clones. You know, the ones who didn't have their comms. Never GOT that dreaded order. Get to live free men on a peaceful planet.

Cause historically? You send your kids AWAY from active wars zones. Places that are priority targets for your enemies. And if the Force itself is saying "move the babies"? Welp! Guess you gotta move um, don't ya? It's scary. Uncertain.

But it is an act of faith.

And I just? Wanna see Sith's plans just COMPLETELY fuckin implode? Because they could not plan for Faith. For Trust and Community and Hope. All the things they believe so trite. So worthless. The very things that would lead grown adults, POWERFUL PEOPLE, to actually? LISTEN to a mere youngling. Then follow their lead.

It would be?

Inconceivable to them.

@legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @hypewinter @babbling-babull @hdgnj @starwarsblr @starwars

[blues824]

Hello again bestie coming back with the yandere pic request but for sebek feel free to do what you want to go feral bestie❤️.

The things I would let this man do to and for me…

Warning: This is a Yandere fic. I do not condone this behavior in real life.

Sebek Zigvolt

There was little time until he got in.

You were panting, out of breath from running back to your dormitory, and you immediately started barricading your front door. You knew it wouldn’t be enough, however, so you used whatever energy you have left to sprint to your room, where you further barricaded yourself into it.

“Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?!” A shout came from outside, scaring you out of your wits and making more tears fall from your eyes. 

Why couldn’t he just LEAVE YOU ALONE?!

He already hurt your friends, you remember seeing Ace coughing up blood because of what he had done. Deuce had a blackened eye. Epel and Jack didn’t look much better. Of course, this was not without struggle. They did manage to deal some damage, but not enough to get him to stop chasing after you.

“Darling, there you are!”

Shit, you forgot about the window!

He was standing on a broom to float, and even though you sat on the opposite side of the room, you could see the figurative delusional hearts in his eyes. Quickly, he used his fist to punch out the glass pane of the window, and he quickly got into your room.

However, what he saw only made him angrier. He saw the armchair, the table, and the nightstand pressed against the door, and he immediately knew what you were trying to do.

“Y/N, were you trying to hide from me? Trying to keep me from you?! Well, you should’ve known that it wasn’t going to work!” He got closer and closer, shouting, making you curl up further and further into yourself.

You knew this wasn’t the Sebek that you had grown to care for. He was under the influence of a potion. A few students thought it would be a funny idea to prank the knight and get him to follow you around like a puppy. However, he went total psycho and possessive.

Earlier today, you sought out your friends to ask for their help in getting you away from him until the potion wore off. However, he managed to find you in Heartslabyul, where you were hiding out, and he lashed out and beat your friends to a pulp. 

Jack fought bravely, managing to scratch him and punch Sebek in the nose, which broke something, as blood dripped from his nostrils. However, he lost in the end, but you ran while the fight was going on. You jumped into a random mirror and it just so happened to be yours.

And that’s kind of where you are now. You would have to personally murder those students later, but right now you have to deal with a yandere and angry Sebek. 

“Darling, why are you cowering before me? I would never hurt you. I’m supposed to be your knight in shining armor…” He kneeled before, taking your wrists into his hands and making you reveal your face to him.

You were praying to whatever being resided in the heavens that Lilia had a club meeting and could hear what was going on in your room. You peered into the half-fae’s eyes, and his lips were closing in on yours.

“Remember that you will always belong to me, and only me, Y/N,” You tried to push him away, but he kissed you with the force of a cannon ball, even as you wiggled and squirmed beneath him.

Once he pulled away, his eyes were glowing a bright green, and he had a smirk on his face.

“Why are you doing this?!” You screamed at him.

“Because you somehow managed to make me fall in love with you: a human who won’t live for very long. I need to be there for every moment… to savor it until I join you in the stars. Then, I’ll still be obsessed with you because you are a mystery to me.”

Usually, something like this would make your heart flutter and you flustered, but right now it just filled you with a sense of dread. You had the entire confession planned out, and it would have been simple and normal, and he probably would have shouted his feelings for you.

But now, with him whispering, it felt wrong.

Really wrong.

[v3nusxsky]

Reader who was already obsessed with Regina hen she was queen and subcontiously that obsession stayed with her after the curse. I mean, bordiline creep behaviour soemtimes. Regina finds out and remembers them from the enchanted forest- they used to sit outside the castle garden and watch Regina walk about- and decides to have kinky kinky sex with this little stalker...

Enchanted by you 18+

*authors note~ second Kinktober fic for my lovely queen🥰 this time will be filling this square for role play and/or power play*

Trigger warnings~ power play/slight role play (but it’s okay bc she’s a queen in cannon sooo), sensory deprivation (blindfolds), bondage, oral sex, your majesty (Regina), alludes to reader being a creep in the name of attraction, magical strap on (reader receives), praise/degrading kink, slight overstimulation

Prompt ~ see ask^^^^^^

Covers this bingo square

Your routine as a simple farmers daughter. Until you saw her. It was purely accidental. Heading back along the broader to the forest from delivering eggs from the farm was where you first laid eyes on the regal woman. Her pure onyx coloured horses guiding her grand carriage past you effortlessly. That’s when you caught the first glance of the queen. It’s all it should’ve been really. A simple glance. Until it was more.

Every day you’d find a way to escape to the castle. No one needed to know. She didn’t even know you existed. Why would she? A stunning example of a woman and a farmers daughter quickly becoming an old maid. No one noticed you and for the first time you were now glad for it. It made it easier to sit just outside of the castle gardens completely unnoticed by the guards as you continued to drink in every step the queen took, memorise every detail of her tight dresses and even going as far to commit the images and sounds of her voice to memory. One glance wasn’t meant to lead to this. You knew it was creepy, the poor woman didn’t know you were watching her so intently every day or how you fantasised about her every night beneath the darkness of your room.

A vivid memory of what you thought to be a dream lead you here. Every day. You’d start in granny’s cafe, trail behind her as she strutted towards the office for a full day of being mayor. After finishing working at the near by high school library you’d catch a glimpse of her heading home to Henry. Her son. Yet you never noted a husband. Before waiting in the shadows as she readied herself for bed before retreating to your own home under the cover of darkness to repeat the same routines.

The day the spell lifted it was purely instinctual for you seek the evil queen out. And there she was in her usual attire back at her own family crypt. You’d seen her visit many times over the years, mayor mills stood in her queen attire, a deep burgundy dress decorated with black delicate lacy trim and a train only worthy of a queen. Her makeup sporting the dark Smokey eye that you didn’t realise you’d missed all these years. Looking the exact same as you recall all those years ago. Content to watch from afar until she pounced.

Within an instant her purple smoke wrapped itself around your form, skilfully tying you with deep purple silks and removing any clothing you had on. Anyone stupid enough to stalk the queen would be punished. “Oh, look at you. All tied up and ready to be punished.” In the dimly lit room you should’ve felt fear, embarrassment or well shame yet all you could do is drink in the sight of the women before you. As regal as ever the evil queen scanned over your form as everything clicked into place. Her little stalker.

“Hm what a naughty little stalker you’ve been. Following me for years thinking I would let you get away with it. Hiding in the shadows like a desperate little whore” the raven haired queen husked taking calculated steps towards you, never once losing your eye contact. You aren’t yourself, that’s your excuse. She knows. Of course she knew. She’s the evil queen. Yet you still can’t help but try to gain some control here, “i’ve been very bad. i think i need to be punished. “

“You have the nerve to stalk me, to act like nothing more than a bitch in heat desperately trying to gain my attention and then demand what I will do with you?” Her words were accompanied with a flick of her wrist causing a blindfold to be snuggly situated around your head covering your eyes, “do I need to gag you too? Or will you be a good little play toy and learn your place?”

“I’ll be good your majesty” you mumbled thoughtfully, after years of watching her it was clear you are on thin ice here. Perhaps this was what you needed. Her to use and abuse you so your own selfish carnal need to be around her would leave. It wasn’t uncommon for the queen to bed many a people in her time of reign, men and women alike had come and gone through her chambers. And well, this had to be a dream. “Oh a cleaver play thing I have” she praised in thought before taking measured steps to reach your bound body and drag it into position. From there she made short work of her dress and exposing her warm core to the room. “Kneel” she commanded, smirking as your body fell willingly into position, “be a dear and make your queen cum and cum hard or I’ll lock you up somewhere no one would even dream of finding a pathetic stalker like you.”

Without needing to be told twice you immediately found your way to her dripping cunt and began to kiss lick and suck every inch of her. You’d imagined tasting her many times before but nothing compared to the real thing. Addicting. No wonder you’ve been after her for so long. Not being able to see the pleasure you were bestowing on her was irritating at best, but then again you didn’t need to. You’d seen her naked body many times over the years in Storybrook. Watching her change or just fresh out of the shower lotioning her smooth gorgeous skin was forever burnt into your memory.

“Such a good slut making her queen feel so good” Regina mewled at a particularly harsh suck to her sensitive bundle of nerves causing you to hum against her soaked folds, arms struggling against the magical silks binding your arms. “Oh does the pathetic whore want to touch her queen?” She teased noticing your squirming, “such a slut for your queen I bet you’d let me keep you forever, personal sex doll for me to use. You’d be the perfect choice wouldnt you?”

When she came, you’d never been more grateful for your attention to detail. Learning quickly what she wanted and her body’s silent cues causing a gush of sweetness to reward your hard effort. It didn’t matter you were uncomfortable, that your tongue had long since grown tired and your knees numb because she may as well be your own personal brand of drug. A sharp tug at your hair demanding you move causing you to mumble in your submissive gaze “Reality is even better than my dreams.”

Your words caught the queen off guard for a second before she murmured a spell to herself to produce a magically enchanted stap on, “silly girl, whores like you need a good fucking to set you back on the right path. Maybe you’ll learn to ask rather than watch like a creep.” Her words stung, you couldn’t help the desire to see her all the time, to know her routines and what she looked like underneath her clothes. It’s really her fault for being too damn sexy. Sex on legs as you called her in private. Due to your sight being taken away, you stumbled as Regina rose to her full height to bend you over the desk you just ate her out on. Hips being slammed onto her desk as she grew impatient, “behave little girl or I’ll leave you here like this, a good for nothing slut for anyone to use. Pathetic.”

Without giving you time to even consider her words you felt the head of a faux cock pressing against your slit, “your majesty! I can’t. I’ve never” you whimpered pitifully. “Oh so filthy pathetic and a virgin? Even more reason to make you mine” she decided out loud and you knew there was no point in pretending you didn’t want her to be your first. “Hold still dear, it hurts more if you move” was her only warning, a moment of tenderness showing how poorly the king had treated her to the trained eye, before she slowly pressed her hips into yours. The toy slipping into your soaking cunt, stretching you out in ways you never knew it could.

“Oh fuck Regina!” You cried out dazed at the full feeling she’d given you. A harsh smack to your right ass cheek and a harsh reminder of you losing your place, “it’s your majesty bitch” before starting to slip out of your pussy only to slam back in, moaning at the feel of your virgin walls suffocating her shaft. “Mine.” She growled “sweet filthy stalker. All mine.”

“All yours majesty! Please please more” you whined taking her now brutal thrusts as pain morphed into white hot pleasure, “want to be yours. Make me yours.” As if the woman needed encouragement. You were hers. Now and forever. “Silly girl, I’m never letting you leave. Ever” she moaned before moving her lips to kiss your shoulder sweetly. Instinctively you leaned your head to the side, allowing her access to your smooth neck as you took everything she had to give. Only when the queen sunk her teeth into to junction between your neck and shoulder did you finally let go, covering the magical shaft in your warm cum, inner walls milking it dry as she tries to prolong your orgasm. “Mine” is all she offers as she slips from your abused core and releases the magical ties.

Laying there on her floor, little room she often hides out in to be alone with her magical books, away from home you hazily rake your eyes over your wife. “Mm so sex on legs” you mumble as she works to magically clean up and change her outfit. “I take it you liked that darling?” Liked would be an understatement, you mentioned before how much you loved her outfits and well the role play was her idea to try out. “Mm Gina so good” you whimpered feeling her magic dress you in a loose shirt, “snuggle?”

If you’d told anyone. That mayor mills, the evil queen was a snuggler no one would believe you. Then again no one in the enchanted forest believed you when you said all those daily visits to the castle would make her notice you. Her sweet little stalker, saviour of her heart, a simple farmers daughter.

Word count~ 1868

[peachie-bumblebee]

you so need to rewrite those fics you mentioned in the 3some head cannons. They sound so good omg.

you know what? here you go.

I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, BUT IT’S LONG ENOUGH IT MADE MY IPAD LAG SO HOPEFULLY THAT MAKES UP FOR IT!

ANIMALISTIC- REWRITE

ROXANNE WOLF X AFAB GEN!READER X MONTGOMERY GATOR

NSFW MINORS DNI

You wanted them, and by god, they wanted you.

CW: PRIMAL PLAY, FEAR PLAY, A BIT OF DUMBIFICATION, BREATH PLAY?, SLIGHT PAIN PLAY??, SUPER TINY ONE THING OF BLOOD PLAY, MARKING, JEALOUSY, THEY’RE MEAN BUT YOU LIKE IT, DEGRADATION, READERS A BIT OF A MASOCHIST, A BIT OF EDGING, THIS IS ALL JUST KINDA SELF INDULGENT AND CRAZY, TEASING, SLIGHT CUM PLAY???

You were Monty’s. That much was a guarantee.

You had been Monty’s from the moment he first laid his eyes on you. You had been at one of the shows with your college friends who had come back to town to reminisce about the good old days. They had gotten entirely wasted and left you there alone; alone and beautiful, and he knew from the moment he saw you in that crowd that he had to have you.

Of course, Roxanne was watching too- but Roxanne has always been far more patient than Montgomery.

Montgomery had approached you after the show late at night- you were hanging against the wall, and when you turned he stood there, hovering over you by several feet. He was breaking the rules by seeing you- and fuck, you loved a rule breaker.

That was over 8 months ago, and you’d never been happier- or more satisfied in all the meanings of the word. Monty wasn’t always the best with softness or with remembering details- minor things to you, really. But if there was one thing that Monty always delivered on, it was sex. You’d fucked on the vanity, against the window, in the Monty Gator Golf pool. He even ate you out on the middle of the stage late at night. You two had probably had every kind of sex you ever thought of having.

Except for one thing. The wildcard. The Roxanne Wolf. You weren’t stupid. You knew how she looked at you, and you knew that she and Monty were close- extremely so. It’s not like you minded it. Not at all; and you knew that your overprotective boyfriend knew too. It was an unspoken oddity of your relationship. If it had been anyone else, he probably would have flown off the handle. But Roxanne and you shared stolen glances, and her nails traced your hipbones as you passed down a tight corridor, and you were sure that was all it was ever gonna be.

So when they sat you down and proposed this- you had been taken aback. Your first thought had been that Roxy was just bored and wanted to hang out with you and Monty. After Monty patted his lap and told you to sit, you figured it was going another direction.

But not this.

Never this.

And god the adrenaline was racing through you.

They had explained it casually, toothy grins on their faces as they took you in.

Tomorrow night.

Chica’s Maze.

A game.

The rules would be simple.

You would start in the middle of the maze. You would find your way to the start or to the exit. That technicality didn’t bother either of them.

You would have a 5 minute head start. The time would be displayed on the wall for you.

It would be dark- but not pitch black.

You would be naked.

If you found your way out before they found you- you could have anything you wanted. And that meant anything at all. From either of them.

Roxanne had looked at you very pointedly when that part was discussed.

If you were caught- then they would do anything they wanted with you.

The offer had sent heat pooling down your spine. You’d done so much with Monty, and so little with Roxy.

So why not play?

“Of course”, he had reassured you, “we’ll level the playing field for you.”

The maze was always a rotating map. Neither of them would have the chance to memorize any path to find you on. And they wouldn’t camp out at the start or end- you had their word. Monty and Roxy would be wearing heavy bracelets around their ankles and hands- something to weigh them down a little. There would be forgiveness as well. If you were caught once, then you could continue on with a handicap. Something non-specified. A slap on the wrist before the real loss. They wouldn’t elaborate when you asked.

“What about your eyes?” you had asked Roxanne.

She got a certain look on her face then, one you couldn’t quite put a finger on.“That’s why you get the five minutes.”

So here you were now- the middle of Chica’s Mazercize. Monty had led you to the spot in the middle with strict instructions to close your eyes the whole way; tempting not to follow of course, but it’s far too exciting of an experience to waste it over breaking a rule as small as that.

Monty slides a cold claw down your front, wrapping the pads of his fingers around your nipple and giving it a small tug. At your slight moan, he chuckles and gets close to your ear.

“Count to 30 seconds before you open your eyes, m’kay?”

The cold air on your bare skin makes you bristle- along with something else.

“Okay.”

A ghost of a cold kiss is pressed against your cheek. “Good luck, baby.”

And with that, he leaves, the whirring of his gears fading into the distance.

As you count down, your worry your teeth between your lips, shifting your weight from side to side. This whole thing is crazy. You’d done a lot of crazy shit, but this- this is fucking crazy. But you were gonna play this game. You wanted to. You wanted them, and by god, they wanted you.

The only thing you weren’t sure you wanted was to win.

Time’s up.

Slowly, as if expecting something to jump out at you, you peel open your eyes at the maze before you. One by one, the lights shut off, creating a rapidly approaching darkness as the walls change and shift around you. Your breath catches in your throat as new pathways emerge and change before your eyes before settiling in four directions. The ground your standing on shifts as well- spinning you slowly for couple of rotations so you can no longer keep track of where the start and the end could possibly be.

North.

South.

East.

West.

You are hopelessly, helplessly lost as the final light flicks off, submerging the maze in a faint pink glow.

You have no idea where to go.

The thought makes you throb.

Above you, a giant red clock turns on to exactly 5:00. 5 minutes. 5 minutes to decide what to do- where to go.

North couldn’t hurt. North always seems to be the right answer in the stories; and really, how complicated could the maze be? It wasn’t designed to contain anything more than some casual paying guests. Maybe, you smile to yourself, you’d get out before your head start was even over. The two animatronics would be at your beck and call.

You step as quickly as you can without running down the pathway, pondering what you’d have them do to you when it hits you. Quite literally. Before you is a wall.

Left or right.

That small bubble of confidence within you begins to deflate- but the feeling between your thighs only gets worse.

4 minutes left.

You go right.

Within what feels like seconds, you hit a dead end.

A sweat starts to build on the back of your neck.

You go back down the way you came from, heading left this time. Your speed is picking up pace as you keep your eyes trained on the clock, watching valuable seconds of time circle down the drain.

Left. Right. Left. Straight.

You should have a strategy. If you pick straight enough times, will it lead you to the edge? Or was this map designed with that idea in mind?

Strategy. Strategy.

The seconds continue ticking away.

1:40 left.

Shit.

Pick left, then left again. Then pick right twice. It should lead you in the pattern of a square-like zigzag, and even if you hit the wall, you could use that as a guiding path. Right?

Right?

“One minute left!” The prerecorded voice of Chica spills over the maze from speakers, telling you that yes, you do indeed have 60 seconds to come up with a real plan on how to win this.

If you still want to win this.

Maybe that’s why you didn’t plan.

Your heart is hammering in your chest as the final seconds begin to tick away, the sound of a clock matching the beats of your feet into the ground. Strategy can no longer just be about how to get out. It now has to include how to stay hidden.

You’re trapped in a maze with two predator creatures- one built for speed, one for strength. They’re both taller than you. You know for a fact that Monty could easily toss you in the air if he wanted. You’ve heard rumors about the exact bite force of Roxy’s jaws. They’re smarter, equipped with the most modern technology in the world.

And Roxy can see you.

You just don’t know from how far away.

Fuck, what are they gonna do with you if you win?

“Uh oh!” Chica’s voice fills the maze once again, and you look towards the ceiling right as the clock his zero and a loud buzz echos through your bones. “Looks like you’re outta time!”

You’re still- deathly still as a beat of silence fills the massive maze. The only sound is your blood rushing through your ears.

And then a feminine laugh filled with absolute anticipation echos down the metal walls.

She’s here. They both are.

You don’t know what makes your body ache in anticipation more- her laugh, or the lack of your boyfriend’s.

They are two animalistic creatures made to hunt, and tonight, you are their prey.

It’s not about pure speed anymore as you go down your preplanned pathway. You’re trying to be as silent and as quick as you can be at the same time, which proves difficult.

You take a left.

The turn around the corner makes your stomach drop in fear and arousal as your eyes try to desperately find some hint of either of their presences. There’s nothing- and it’s relief and dread and ache that floods through you at the same time.

Keep going straight until you find another left.

Every sound in the maze makes your heart seize- but you’ve never felt more alive. Every pin drop, every settling noise of the pizzaplex has you stifling your own gasp of trepidation.

You find another left.

And someone is there.

It’s just a split second of danger recognition- their back is turned to you, and there’s so much adrenaline flooding through you that you don’t even know who it was. You just run.

As fast as you can, you turn back from where you can, your strides stretching as far as they can. You make the decision to dive behind another corner before you even register that there is one- it’s nearly an inperceptible slit in the walls- and as you hit the ground, you realize you’ve found the jackpot.

It’s a false wall. Made to confuse the customers- maybe scare actors stay there during the halloween season- you don’t know and quite frankly, you don’t give a shit. You crawl backwards on the floor until you’re flush with the farthest corner of the hiding place. You slap your hands over your mouth to try to quiet your breathing, eyes squeaking shut as the telltale footsteps inch closer.

It’s your boyfriend.

And he’s looking for you.

His heavy footsteps thunk into the metal floor and you squeeze your hands even tighter over your mouth.

“Baby?” His voice travels straight to your clit and you barely hold back a noise that’s pure animal-like need. You’re not thinking straight. The walls are spinning. Your pussy is throbbing.

He whistles low and slow as he walks right by.

And then he stops.

How much can he hear?

You stop breathing.

“Come on out for me, baby.” His voice is tensed with electric adrenaline, breath hissing through his mouth. “I can hear you.”

And you know he could. Monty has incredible hearing- better than you, certainly. And he doesn’t have bad eyesight- but certainly not Roxy’s.

Don’t find me. Don’t find me.

You manage to stay completely quiet, the need for oxygen burning in your lungs.

He keeps moving as your chest shakes, rounding some far off corner. You continue holding your breath as long as you can before you allow yourself to breathe as slowly and silently as you can.

Monty was going to be pissed.

The thought almost made your eyes roll back in your head.

After a few more moments you shakily stand and make your way to the exit of your hiding room. Your elbows are slightly bruised and scraped from your dive- but the ache is nothing compared to the building one between your legs. With one last glance around, you tiptoe out back onto the main path. That was close. Too close.

A part of you wonders what would have happened if he caught you just then.

Would he have pinned you down? Called Roxanne over? Given you whatever handicap you deserved? Or would he have simply picked you up right then and fucked you against the wall?

Turning in the opposite direction from where Montgomery went, you continue your strategy from before the close encounter. But as you continue walking, you lose more and more track of where you had first bumped into him. In the thrill of the chase, you had completely lost your bearings.

You continue going straight.

And then take a right. This pathway of the maze curves- perhaps this is the entrance to the maze, some kind of a lead-in.

You wall down the looming halls as it spirals into a circle. Your speed picks up along with the curves, getting tighter and tighter until a wall comes into sight in front of you.

There’s a sign there- a cartoon Chica with a frown on her face.

“Dead End!”

You only realize your mistake too late. Without notice, one second to the next- there she is. Her eyes are gleaming in the darkness, shining with hunger- shining at you. You gasp, the sound catching in your throat as you freeze. Roxanne is on you in seconds- no chance for you to even think about escaping. With a single hand she pushes you into the wall, squeezing your throat in her grasp. You can still breathe- but the intended effect is strong. She’s inches away from your face and smiling as you squirm under her, your hands grasping where hers lies on your throat, yet making no attempt to pull it away.

“Found you.”

Roxannes voice is husky with victory and lust.

Just as you get your bearings under her palm, she flips you so that your cheek is flush with the wall. You gasp as she moves up behind you, tracing your skin with a single pointy claw.

“You’ve been proving much more slippery then we initially thought. It’s almost impressive- is it a skill of yours, or just luck?”

To punctuate her words she softly curls her spare hand around your hipbone, her pinky finger drifting low enough to almost graze at your pussy slit. You let out a shuddered heave of a gasp when the very tip of her claw just barely touches your clit.

She cocks her head a little, making a false click of sympathy at your desperation. “Looks like it’s more like beginners luck.”

Roxy finally releases the back of your head from it’s pinned place. Instead, she smoothly- yet quickly- presses your chin up so that your head is arched back into her chest. Her thumb grazes your lip and presses just barely before a single drop of blood wells up.

Her hand moves down to fully cup you, and something inside of you breaks. You rut up into Roxy’s hand hard before you can even realize you’re doing anything. She stops it before it even starts, harshly hiking her hand up and away and grabbing the hilt of your chin in her hand.

“Ah ah- nope. Not yet. The rules say you get your handicap now.”

A whine from somewhere deep in you finds it way out your throat. Roxy chokes on her little laugh just slightly.

“Don’t push it. I’d use your mouth right now if I knew your boyfriend wouldn’t throw a tantrum- oh fuck, he’s gonna be so pissed when he finds out I got to you before he did.” The wolf laughs a little again before taking something out from behind her.

She wraps something long, black, and silky into her fist.

It’s a blindfold.

You were never meant to win this game at all.

With a swift hand, Roxanne ties the dark fabric around your eyes. It’s not even see through enough to see 5 inches in front of you, nevertheless 5 feet. The pitch blackness rule is clearly out the window. There’s no chance of your eyes even adjusting.

If before you were a rat in a trap, you are now the cheese.

Roxanne hums as she ever so slightly presses your body into the wall with hers. “Let’s hope that good luck of yours doesn’t run out.” She rocks against your ass once- just a tease of a grind, really, but the act makes you clutch her arm in desperation anyway.

“You have another five minutes to get going again- but I suppose you won’t be able to tell how much time had passed until our friend’s voice comes over the intercom, isn’t that right?”

Your voice breaks as she rocks again, even less so this time. “Please. Just take me now.”

“Are you saying you want to stop?”

“No i’m- i’m ready.”

“We’re not.”

Clearly, they want to play with their food.

“See you soon. Listen for your one and only’s reaction for me, won’t you baby?”

With one last cup of your ass, Roxy slips off into the unknown void that surrounds you.

A part of you just wants to slide down the wall and wait for them to realize that you haven’t moved an inch- but god, where’s the fun in that? You’re a player in a game you were doomed to fail- but you know just as well as they do that what comes in your failure is benefit. And part of the fun is the chase.

You’ll play your part.

You know they’ll play theirs.

Blindly, your trail your hand down the wall as you walk, quickly navigating yourself back down the spiral dead end. You’re just about to exit what you think is the beginning of the spiral when you hear it.

A growl, dark and deep and deliciously pissed off rumbles throughout the maze.

Roxanne was right- he really isn’t happy that she found you first.

You wonder what that means for you.

The thought only makes you move faster, adrenaline coursing deeper through your veins. You don’t know how much time you have left, but you’re gonna use it to the best of your abilities. You just have to hope you’re moving further away, not closer.

Will they hunt together now? No- Montgomery will be much too furious for that. Unless Roxanne makes him. Clearly, she has some kind of control over him that you’ve never known about; their own personal cat and mouse where both are the cat. Contrary to the animals they’re based off of, Monty’s blood runs hot in a hunt. He’s all force, all blind desire to take what is his. Roxanne appears to run cold- a deadly stalker in the night. She’s speed and strength and skill.

No matter their hunting plan, you’re royally fucked.

You race as fast as you dare down the pathways, taking lefts and rights like you know nothing- a part of you doesn’t. You know nothing about where you’re going or where you’re headed from.

Before you know it, you have one minute left. You must once again take up stealth over fast travel- so it’s best to get as far as possible first. Your hands are your only guide as you take another trip down another curve, praying you somehow haven’t moved in a big circle.

Time runs out as it always does.

Either by some miracle you blindly stumble your way across your finish line, or they find you freakishly fast. You’ll take either option- but you’re not going down without at least trying.

Another left.

You jump as a creak squeaks off in the distance, slamming your feet into the ground as your heart hammers in your chest.

Nothing.

You move on.

After 300 some paces you take a sharp right at the end of the corridor. That right ends in a sharp corner that your finger skips slightly over, and your heart skips a beat at the possibility that you’ve defied all the odds. You take one step, then two- and then there it is.

A thunk.

Another.

There he is.

You turn on your heel and run from the sound like a wild animal, knowing it’s entirely a fruitless endeavor. Monty makes a noise- deep, guttural, angry, and it only spurs you on further. You smile with your teeth bared, sure that at any moment you will feel his hands scrape you up and off the ground.

Good.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead, a familiar hand grabs your throat from the front.

Roxy.

You hadn’t even heard her coming.

Monty comes up from the behind.

“I fuckin’ had it, you know.” He presses himself pulley behind you, roughly grabbing your hips as you gasp. You can feel his dick pressed against your back, painfully hard. You hear the sound of his teeth grating. “I had them.”

“It’s a shame I got to them first then.”

You realize now that they’ve been playing a game of their own.

“Just cuz you wrap your fuckin’ claws around their throat doesn’t mean shit, wolf.”

She clicks her tongue. “That’s not all I’ve done. Look closer.”

You tremble between them in the silence.

Slowly, Roxanne pushes your chin up to show your face to your boyfriend. The air is electric, tense. Your breaths are coming in in slight heaves as Roxanne tugs your bottom lip down with her claw.

She flicks the small bloody scab with the point of her talon.

“You fuckin’ marked them?”

You don’t need to see Roxanne’s expression to know its a smug one.

“Before me?”

“Oh well.”

Montgomery trembles behind you as Roxanne gets closer, still pressing your face to the sky. Her tits brush against your bare skin and you shudder even more.

“Maybe you should ask them what’s wrong, Montgomery. If you wanna have the honors.”

Your boyfriend isn’t used to being bossed around, not in any capacity. You’ve never done it before, never even seen it happen.

You feel his face lower towards yours. “I don’t need to ask. I already know.”

He pulls you away slightly from Roxy and presses a finger against your clit hard. Your entire body jumps as you let out a moan. “Fuck, Monty.”

“See how it’s my name they’re saying? How their body responds to me at a single fuckin’ touch?”

“Funny. Their body was doing something similar when I started dry humping them in the maze.”

And that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

Everyone has a breaking point. The rules of the game state that you are theirs to do what they please with- and it seems that part of what they want to do is to out perform each other. You’re just along for the ride. Monty’s breaking point is knowing she got to you first.

You’re dragged away several feet by your boyfriends hands, the air around you moving to tell you that the wolf is in quick pursuit.

“Cmon, Monty. Don’t be jealous.”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

Roxy reaches out beyond you and places a hand on your boyfriend. “Take their pussy first. It’ll make you feel better.”

You gasp as Monty growls, putting you on something soft. You can’t understand what it is- it feels like a mattress, which makes no fucking sense because you’re in a maze- but before you can begin thinking about that, Monty starts crawling on top of you.

Your breathing catches in your throat as you feel his dick slap against your stomach, leaving a warm sticky smear on your skin. “Can I take the blindfold off?”

A pause.

“No. Not yet.” Monty’s hands are rough as he runs them down your sides. “You’ll get to see us when you’ve earned it.”

“But I-”

Montgomery cuts you off by squeezing your jaw shut in the palm of his hand. “I didn’t ask you, slut.” With that, he uses his free hand to push up your right leg over his shoulder. His cock now rests on your thigh, heavy and weeping. “I am not fuckin’ happy with you.”

His dick tells a different story, but you aren’t able to open your mouth to tell him that.

Like before, he presses a single finger on your clit hard- this time, his thumb. He’s tense with his jealousy and lust, breath coming out heavy. You keen as he starts moving his thumb in a circle, the coolness of his skin making you jolt.

“You are such-”

Roxanne cuts Monty off. “Stop arguing with them and start prepping them to take you already.”

“And why should I fuckin’-

“Cuz I get their mouth.”

Fuck.

Roxy walks over. “Can’t sit on their fucking face if you keep talking.”

You tremble even more as you feel her kneel behind your head. As she takes your chin as leans you back, Montgomery pinches your clit between two fingers.

“Fuck- mm- Christ, Monty-

He tugs a little and your hips buck up.

“Can I please, please see you both now?”

Roxanne hums, and her body whirs as she positions herself over your face. “Hm. I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?”

You’re moaning, the feeling of him slightly kneading your clit between his fingers making you ache.

“Use your words. Ask him.”

You moan again, unable to help yourself. “Monty, Monty-

He lets go of your clit and the sheer ache of it makes you cut yourself off again.

“Can’t even fuckin’ ask me, huh?”

“Please.”

“What are you even askin’ for?”

You’re suddenly not sure.

Roxanne laughs. “That’s what we thought. Open your mouth. Tap a couple times on my thigh if you can’t handle it, okay?”

“Mhm.”

She squeezes your mouth open a little. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Okay.”

“That’s good.”

And with that, she lowers herself onto your face. You know she’s restraining herself- if she really sat, she’d kill you, but the sheer thought of that sends even more arousal through you. Though she’s not using her full weight, she is certainly still on you.

She’s warm.

“Stick your tongue out for me.”

You do, and she groans, starting to rock herself against your tongue. You can only just breathe, and the feeling is making you pleasantly fuzzy as your senses are overwhelmed.

“Told you they’re good, aren’t they Rox?”

“Fuck.”

You stick your tongue out further.

“Jesus, fucking slut-” Roxy grabs your chest in her hand and tugs on your nipple. Your moan must send some kind of vibration to her clit, because she hisses through her teeth as you do it.

“You’re crazy for letting us do this to you, baby.” Montgomery pushes two fingers inside of you. “I’ve got such a whore on my hands, don’t I? Letting us do whatever we want to you. Slippery little tease.” Your hips involuntarily buck, but he’s far too strong for you to get much of anywhere. Your cry of pleasure can’t even by silenced by Roxy’s cunt.

And Monty is huge. His fingers are already thick enough to deliciously scrape against your g-spot without doing much of anything, and his fingers are nothing compared to how his dick feels inside of you. As he slides another finger inside of you, you can hear the wet squelch of your pussy.

Of course, you can hardly hear it over the muffling that Roxanne’s thighs provide- her legs are only just squeezing your head as she grinds deeper and harder on your tongue. You’re not in pain- no, you’re in ecstasy as you wrap your lips around her clit and suck.

As you use more pressure, Monty pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy. The intense moaning makes Roxanne toss her head back. “Whatever you’re doing to them, keep fucking doing it.”

It’s Monty’s turn to chuckle as he maintains his speed. Your moan hits a higher note as your involuntarily squeeze around him, and Roxanne cums all over your face.

Fucking christ.

After a few more rocks of her hips, the wolf climbs off your face and you gasp. Roxanne cups your face and wipes her fluids off of your chin before placing them in your mouth.

“Clean me off.”

You obediently lick her fingers clean with a whine, and she groans. “I think they deserve their sight back now, don’t you, Montgomery?”

He gives a sigh of false contemplation. “Did they do a good job?”

“Clearly.”

His grin is evident in his voice. “That’s my bitch. Go on.”

Roxy peels off your blindfold, damp with sweat and her juices. You blink as your eyes adjust to your surroundings, and you discover that your are indeed on a mattress in a corridor of the maze.

They must have set up spots to fuck you across it.

You groan as Monty and Roxy help flip you onto your hands and knees. Monty slips his fingers, now warm from your pussy, out of you and you whine at the feeling.

“Don’t complain. I’m gonna stuff you full of somethin’ in just a second.”

You don’t have words anymore- you’re exhausted from the chase, and it’s like your brain has totally lost all knowledge on what your vocabulary is. You just know that the ache between your thighs is unbearable, and that you’re drooling over your bottom lip, and that you just want them to fuck you.

Roxanne sits in front of you and takes your chest into her hands, rubbing and pulling on your nipples. You lurch forwards at her touch- which is when Monty starts rubbing his cockhead against your pussy hole.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Getting all excited over just me doing this? You really must have gotten all wet n fuckin’ ready for us, didn’t you?” Monty slaps your clit with his dick, smearing his precum all over you.

“Yes.” You don’t have it in you to be embarrassed anymore. “Need you. Need you both.”

They both groan at your pitiful response.

“What do you need us to do?” Roxanne stops pinching one of your nipples to cup your whole chest on that side.

Your boyfriend keeps gliding his dick across your clit, and you’re going goddamn insane because of it. “Touch me.”

“We are touching you.”

You’re gonna fucking cry if they keep on doing this game of verbal back and forth with you. You don’t have the strength.

You groan, cringing in on yourself slightly. “Want Monty to fuck me while you rub my clit and touch me- touch me all over.”

“That’s better.” Roxanne makes eye contact with your boyfriend. “Well? Whenever you’re ready.”

And with that, Monty bottoms out in you with one thrust.

No matter how many times you’ve taken him, you just can’t seem to get used to how fucking big his dick is. It’s long and thick and he’s always super fucking messy, and even though its by far not your first time doing it, it burns so fucking good as he pushes all the way in. You cry out, shaking as he gives you a moment to adjust.

Roxy slides her hands down and presses on your pelvis, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. “I can feel him all the way up there.”

You don’t have it in you to respond. You’re blabbering now as she catches your head from meeting the mattress. “Can’t- mm- fuck- can’t fucking take it-

“I know you can.” Monty shifts forwards a bit, somehow hitting impossibly deeper. “We know you can.”

You just cry in pleasure as he continues. “Tell us you want this. Tell us how bad you want this, or we’ll stop.”

No.

“I want- fuck, please, please, please I want this, I want you Monty, please, please-

He wraps his hands around your hipbones and starts thrusting, and the rest of the world snaps away. Roxanne picks your limp upper body up and readjusts you so that you’re kneeling at an angle and draped over her shoulders. You weakly grasp as her back, nails finding no purchase in her metal skin as your boyfriend fucks up into you. Nothing exists besides how good his cock feels grinding and pumping up into your hole- there’s just pure pleasure.

Roxanne slips a hand under your body and starts rubbing your clit while Monty continues to fuck you with a brutal pace. You can’t even moan, it feels that good- all that comes out of you is a squeak of a cry. You’re mouth open, panting out huffs of breaths as you cling to Roxanne like a lifeline.

“You didn’t tell me how pretty their face was when they got all fucked out.”

Monty has his head down, eyebrows screwed up and moaning as he fucks you. “Well, that’s your own damn fault for not realizing. Fuckin’ look at ‘em.”

You can see Roxanne looking at you through your lidded eyes, too drunk on pleasure to register her own expression of lust. “It is.”

You just lay there and take both of their actions, too overwhelmed with pleasure to do anything but moan. You’re sure the maze is echoing with the sounds of you and your pussy- fuck, there’s probably a little wet spot under you from his actions- and you just can’t seem to care.

Monty growls under his breath, taking his frustration out on your pussy. “Fuckin’ snuck past me, What the hell is that?- and tried to run from me?”

“m’- m‘sorry Monty-” is all you can reply with.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I fuckin’ know.”

Before you even fully realize it, your orgasm is building in your lower stomach. They must notice some change in you that you can’t, because all of a sudden, Montgomery starts pounding into you faster. The change of pace would normally slow your climax down a little, but the swirl of Roxanne’s fingers feel so good that it picks right back up again.

The wolf laces her free hand through your hair, grounding you with slightly stinging pressure. “Just hold it for a little bit longer. We both know he’s close, don’t we?”

It’s true. He’s sliding in and out of you at a near extreme pace, his grip on your hips slightly too tight. If you could hear him over your own moans, you’d know he was nearly as loud as you.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t- please let me come, please-

Roxanne hushes you. “We know you can. Just be patient and hold it.”

You sob, clutching onto to her tighter than you thought possible.

Monty’s hips begin to stutter and he grabs the mattress, claws piercing the soft material. “Fuck, fuck, that’s it baby, keep squeezing me just like that. That’s right, that’s my good fuckin’ slut-”

You gasp, the last of your reasoning hanging on for those telltale words of permission from your boyfriend.

“You can cum now, cum for me, that’s it, let go-

Roxy firmly roots her claws in your hair, and with that, you cum.

You can’t even tell how long it really goes on for. It feels like eternities. Some part of you can hear your cry of ecstasy as you finally cum on his dick and her hand, but the rest of you is too caught up in the white hot pleasure coursing through your veins. Monty comes inside of you, his warmth flooding your lower stomach, and continues to hump his dick up into you well after he’s done so that you can ride it all out. You bounce on him too, unable to help yourself as your orgasm fades away.

When you come back to your senses, you’re in Monty’s arms as he holds you, Roxanne seating right beside. You’re covered in sweat, aching, exhausted- and extremely happy.

“You know. You were pretty damn close to winnin’, baby.” Montgomery tells you as you look around.

“Really?”

Roxanne smiles. “Couple more turns and you would have walked through the exit.”

You sigh, looking up at the ceiling, and then between the two animalistic creatures above you.

And you know to ask just one thing.

“So when are you gonna let me try again?”

END

ahh! I hope y’all enjoyed!!! please reblog with comments, comment, and send request in as always! I love you all. <3

[greensimp]

Gyutaro falling in love with a pregnant S/O - with no husband or whose husband left her - and adopting her child as his? 🥺

I love this idea! I'm already doing a fic where the child is biologically his, but it would definitely be more realistic for Gyutaro to acquire a child through adopting one. Whether he'd actually do that or not is irrelevant, anything can happen in fanfiction >:)

__________________________________________________

Cannon!Gyutaro x Pregnant!Reader

TW: implied/referenced sex work, foul language A/N: Headcannon-ish format, but more detailed than the average one. Reader is obviously AFAB.

___________________________________________________

You live in Rashamon. Like most girls in the entertainment district, you did what you could to survive. And, well, that meant doing a lot of unsavory things.

It was an inevitability that you’d end up pregnant, but unlike many women who do in your town of origin, you were determined to give your baby a good life.

You had no idea who the father was, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t be much help anyway.

You decided to beg for a place in one of the many houses of Yoshiwara, but you were unsurprisingly shot down at the door once you mentioned you were with child. At least, until you arrived at the Kyogoku house.

Much to your surprise, you were given a place in the house in exchange for your services as a house maid. While you weren’t required to take clients, you were expected to work a lot. That included assisting the Oiran with her many dress changings throughout the day.

This is how you’d catch the attention of Gyutaro.

At first, he’d be indifferent to your existence, only occasionally listening in to your conversations with Daki from within her body. You aren’t the first poor girl to tend to his sister, and you most certainly wont be the last.

However, something you mentioned one day would cause him to shift a bit.

You were from Rashamon.

It was a simple response to a prompt from Daki, but the way you said it tugged at a long-forgotten part of his brain.

Soon, he’d ask you questions vicariously through his sister, much to her annoyance.

The more he learned about your situation, the more interested he would become.

Around the 6-month mark of your pregnancy, it was evident that you were becoming unfit to work like how you’ve been doing. So, you were allowed more bedrest.

You absence did not go unnoticed by Gyutaro, who at this point had been technically talking to you for about 3 months through his sister.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he was beginning to care about your progress.

It would frustrate him to no end. To the point where Daki would forcefully eject him for writhing around so much.

“You need to take out this crap somewhere else, brother! Or else I’ll just eat the bitch and say she ran off-“

Oh he didn’t like that.

One stone cold glare was enough to confirm Daki’s suspicions.

She couldn’t believe her brother was beginning to care about a human. How bothersome.

“Fine, go show yourself to her, then. I’m sure she’ll just jump all over you looking like that.”

He’d indignantly storm off to go and vent, but he wasn’t very careful about it because the second he stepped out of the door he bumped right into you.

You’d yelp in surprise and begin to fall, but he’d panic and catch you before you hit the ground.

You’d seen him.

This was bad.

You’d look up at him in surprise, instantly taking notice of the unnatural bodily proportions and eye color. However, you wouldn’t start screaming or try to run away. In fact, you’d stare.

Daki would immediately try to trap you in her belt, as now you’d know too much, but Gyutaro would squash it with his foot in anger and fear.

“Brother! She saw you! I can’t let her just walk away!���

He wouldn’t understand it, but he’d feel this overwhelming urge to protect you.

“Don’t you dare.”

Daki would be pissed. Pissed and betrayed that he’d choose the well-being of a random woman over his own sister. Had these past 100 years meant nothing?!

“What has gotten into you! She’s just a human!”

You’d just be standing awkwardly behind the strange demonic entity that was suddenly hellbent on protecting you from your Oiran, who was supposedly the sister of said demonic entity. You’d think this was some kind of weird fever dream.

“Wh-what’s going on?!”

Gyutaro would snap his gaze to you, the way his face softened sending a strange tingly feeling through your stomach.

Gyutaro, on the other hand, would be extremely conflicted. There’s this pregnant human woman he, for whatever reason, grew attached to, and his beloved sister. Would he be able to make some kind of dynamic work with you two? One where you can co-exist?

He’d pick you up in a panic and bolt down the hall, leaving Daki scrambling to catch him with her Obi. She was too slow, though.

Wouldn’t this be a funny story to tell years from now. Your child’s adoptive father kidnapping you from his own sister. Well, that actually is what happened, but we won’t talk about it very often for Daki’s sake (she’s very embarrassed).

Anyway, back to running away.

He’d run with you like a bat out of hell straight out of Yoshiwara.

You’d, of course, be stressed the hell out, so he’d have to make the supernatural speed part of the escape a short-lived venture.

He’d set you down before pacing around you and mumbling to himself, neurotically scratching at his skin until he bled.

Out of worry, you’d grab his arm to snap him out of it, telling him that it was bad for him. Of course, when he began to actively regenerate before your eyes, you shot your hand back and stared in awe.

“Y-you’re a demon, aren’t you?”

Shit shit shit shit he didn’t know what to do. Perplexingly enough, however, you wouldn’t act scared.

You felt as though this man had good intentions, and… well… he did look a lil’ pretty… okay very pretty.

“Does… does that not freak you out?”

You’d place your hands on your tummy in thought, the sight of which made an unexpected wave of butterflies shoot through his stomach.

“Well… maybe a little… I don’t really know much about them other than they eat people. Although, I feel like if you were going to eat me, you would have done it already…”

He didn’t know if he liked your blind trust in him or not. Of course, HE knew his intentions were not to hurt you, but how would YOU know that?

Turns out, you would just be really good at reading people. It saved your life a lot when you lived in Rashamon, that fact eventually dawning on Gyutaro in the future.

Gyutaro would finally get to genuinely talk to you on that night. And boy did you two talk.

He learned more than he probably should have for you having just met him hours before.

He would learn that you yearned for a little home in the mountains away from Yoshiwara so you could raise your child without the threat of the dangerous men that plagued your childhood. That was why you were working so hard even though you were supposed to be resting.

The more you indulged in his questions, the more he wanted to give you what you wanted. Your resolve to break your familial cycle of sex work and thievery for a life of peace for your baby only deepened his feelings for you. You weren’t pathetic. You weren’t selfish. You deserved more than this place. You deserved what he and his sister never received.

After convincing Daki to not kill you, he’d visit you in your room every night for hours at a time.

Eventually, he’d do it. He’d be unable to ignore that he’d actually fallen in love with you. He was physically unable to hurt you in any way. Intentionally at least. The mere thought of you bleeding or crying for help would send him into a panic attack. It would be quick, awkward even, but he’d grab you by the cheeks and kiss you.

And you’d kiss back. Why wouldn’t you? He’d become a rock in your life before you had even realized it. You were looking forward to his visits. He’d always bring you gifts and food, it was so obvious he was trying to court you.

After he’d confess, he would secretly set off into the night after you fall asleep to work on a special present for you.

What is this present?

Well, he wouldn’t be done with it until right before you were due to give birth, but he managed with a little help from Daki.

He’d blindfold you and gently carry you into the night, not allowing you to peek.

Once he’d arrive at his destination, he’d set you down and ask you to close your eyes, which you would do.

Then, when he’d tell you to open them, you’d burst into tears.

A little house…

It would overlook a beautiful clearing in the forest where a river full of fish would cut through it. It would never flood, because it was on a hill. You’d never go hungry, because the land was fertile. You’d never have to worry about muggers or assaults from creepy men ever again.

You would bawl into his chest and thank him a million times.

You were forever in his debt, but he’d never ask anything of you. Your love was enough for him.

The house was quaint, and you barely got through the little tour he gave you until you reached the nursery.

That’s where you swear you could have fainted.

“You thought about them?”

“Of course.”

“Does… does this mean you….”

You wouldn’t be able to finish before bursting into a fit of sobs again.

But he knew what you meant.

“If you’ll let me…”

He’d adopt the baby as his own.

[mangocallum]

Voltron, as a series is amazing, but I can agree with other people, that the last couple of seasons were weak as heck

There were alot of times where it just made me sit back and go "yo wtf??" And just sit there in sadness as I thought about the wasted potential of the show

So here's a top 3 Voltron things we had in the show!

1. Adam. Oh gosh, I'm here for when I speak for most people that Adam was one of those characters where barely got to see any of them. (because he's dead) And too me, that's just messed up.

He's one of the shows cannon LGBTQ+ rep (along with Shiro), and just killing cannon representation off like that, is just No. WHY???

I wish we could have seen more of Adam, or even Shiro mention him earlier into the series with more of his memories/flashbacks, or even KEEPING HIM ALIVE!! Either way, we all wanted to see more of Adam, and it was really sad to just see his 4 or so minutes of screen time 😞

2. An actual Shurtis storyline. More on Shiro, here we are discussing his relationship with Curtis.

As much as I love Shiro's ending of his wedding and getting married to his husband Curtis, I can understand why some people were upset at this ending.

We never really saw much of Shiro and Curtis together aside from the wedding in the epilogue.

I feel like if they at least had some moments to showcase their relationship, or even flourish Curtis' character would be nice, as the ending of them getting married would make much more sense, and be more satisfying.

I've read some amazing fics on ao3 with Shiro and Curtis. Those fics honestly show what we could have had in the show, I feel like a good plotline for a Shiro/Curtis related plot/ subplot is them wanting to ask each other out or confining in eachother due to the stress off the war.

ANYTHING, just any plot between them would make Shiro's conclusion more satisfying.

3. A better character arc and ending for Lance.

Oh, good golly gee. Lance McClain. Where do I even start. Lance is, and always will be, my favourite character. He was honestly done so dirty by the creators ☹️

His ending of making him a farmer was not it. Like seriously, him settling down, having a simple life, and being a farmer when his lifelong dream was to be a pilot?? No. Just NO.

The rebound treatment, him getting treated like a rebound towards Allura. Honestly Allurance wasn't even that bad, if it was fleshed out more and we got too see more of Allura and Lance together, it could have been something. But the way they decided to execute it in the series itself was horrible.

Lance was a rebound, and Allura showed zero to no interest in him. Allura fell in love with Lotor, not Lance. Honestly, I feel like Lotor and Allura being together should have done some good in Lance's character arc rather than it being bad. It should have taught him to try to move on, or console in his friends, ie, Pidge, Hunk, even Keith etc etc.

Maybe this whole arc could have made him realise who he really needed was right infront of him all along. *wink wink nudge nudge*

Or possibly to realise his own self worth, and that he's more than just "a boy from Cuba"

I think they made him get with Allura beacuse he was such a "ladies man" but in reality he's so much more than that ☹️ He's a guy who values his friends and family, putting himself before others, and wanting the better for others, I wish they could have explored that in him more.

Obviously, there is SO much more I could cover, way much more, this doesn't even scratch the surface! But these are the top three ones that really just stick out to me.

I love voltron! This show is literally one of my favourite shows. It's not perfect, yes, but it's done what it could in it's two year running time, so sad it's getting removed off netflix 😞

[miso-sopas]

Hi so got any ninjago x reader recs? Ever since reading Wisps, it has affected my brain chemistry and now i crave for more ninjago x reader content but im picky when finding fics, so got any recommendations?

Hello there! I had fun sorting out my bookmarks and history so recommending fics might be a thing in the future?

Just to note, I am not sure how to really curate your taste so most of these are what I essentially enjoyed reading and been a fan of so forgive me if some (or all 😭 no hard feelings though) aren't your thing.

Let's see...

Honestly Wisps is the *best* so far in my opinion! I don't know if this is pure coincidental but I am also hunting for some ninjago fics to feel emotions again lmao! And I tried my best in remembering what I've read or interested in so hope these are all ok for you!

+ Second best in my opinion is the 'Infinity Series' by Joos according to their quotev because at ao3 it's orphaned [ao3; quotev book 1 & book 2 ]

Unfortunately, the author has stopped updating this fic but going back at it was really enjoyable like in the Wisps. The summary according to the first installment 'Infinite Serenity';

"[Name] has died and became reincarnated in a childhood TV show of hers. She is raised as the adopted daughter of Sensei Wu, training as the Master of Infinity. Once the plot of the show really gets going, a being resurfaces from her. They claim to have revived her and can help her unlock the memories from her previous life. Now, [Name] must rely on this being to help protect Ninjago, and discovers how her past connects with her present." TW: Suicide, self harm, child abuse, some gore and swearing (please pay attention to the tags)

Please please heed the trigger warning, I don't remember much from the content but I definitely recall the author tackling those tags in a respectful way. The love interests are Kai, Nya, Jay, Cole, Morro and platonic with Master Wu and her cousin Lloyd Garmadon. Again, second best recommended fic in my opinion.

+ Next one, this is not one series but user Circus4APsycho8 (they have ao3 and tumblr) in my opinion have the best x reader one-shots from the fandom! My all-time favorite work of theirs is 'Secret Someone' [Highschool AU! Lloyd Garmadon x reader]- this one is really sweet ❣️

Here's these links for their ao3 works and their tumblr ninjago masterlist. All simple yet sweet, I love their writing style.

+ The next one is purely Lloyd Garmadon x Female Reader titled 'Butterfly Effect' by samsea at ao3. I think they're still updating and I am a big fan of hero x civilian pairings and just they're cute and in love.

Summary: "If it was up to Y/n L/n, she would read the summer away, lost in history books and adventure novels, finding excitement in their written words. Meeting Lloyd Garmadon changed her plans. Suddenly, Y/n is living a life she'd only read about; summer romances and cotton candy dates. Perhaps this was a new normal she could get used to. But she's been fated - prophesied - to be with the Green Ninja. And where there's a green ninja, trouble usually follows." Warnings: "The butterfly effect has mature themes such as gore, violence, toxic friendships, sexual themes (no smut) and cussing. the butterfly effect is not intended for younger viewers. Trigger warnings will be placed on chapters as they are needed. if you have any questions or issues please contact me."

Again, heed the warnings but the writing and atmosphere overall is really sweet and for some reason all cuddly and sunny. IDK but maybe I am always soft for Lloyd lmao.

+ If you're up to reading only x reader head cannons then I recommend user mouschiwrites here in tumblr. Their requests are closed now but the head cannons they made are cute and entertaining, like I can definitely see this character doing that y'know. Here's their ninjago masterlist

+ Here's some honorable mentions, I believe they deserve some love too!

In the Shadow (Various love interests) by RoseRain at Quotev

Legend of the Lightspirit (Various love interests) by softie at Quotev

Actually, while finishing my school projects I'm also checking out from another user snazzilystoopid's ninjago recommendation. So far, I am enjoying their second recommended which is 'Element of Wishes' by yourfavoritecloud at quotev BUT this one is an Character x OC one so if it's not up to your alley they have few recommendations. Honestly, I am up to anything as long as it entertained my monkey brain.

Sorry for the long post! Hope these works are okay for your taste but the closest fic that gives off the same vibes as Wisps is the Infinite series. And these are all by my own opinions and the fics I remembered catching my eye. I am very much open to other recommendations or shout-outs.

Side note, there's not much Ninjago fics out there that I might let my monkey brain loose and create one myself LOOOL.

Again, thank you for asking ( I feel honored for being asked by this, I'm a fanfic nerd 🤓)

[elizamgarts]

Hordak vs Catra

Decided to make a fic of how I think the fight with catra and hordak should have went down

Catra entered the sanctum and noticed how dark it was. It was far too quiet. The room was a bit dark, no computer screen was on. No humming of machines, It was silent.

Maybe he wasn't in the sanctum but where else would he be? That was strange, she looked around searching, "where's Hordak?”she muttered to herself, "He's usually tinkering with whatever project. " They were supposed to be on the fleet to attack bright Moon “The hell is going on? Hordak, where are you?” she huffed, placing her hands on her hips as her tail lightly flicked, her ears twitched from side to side.

Her ears suddenly perked up when she heard something charge up before a bright red beam aimed right at her but missed.Her fur went up and she jumped out the way in time with a startled gasp, her heart nearly left her chest as she panted and looked where the shot came from.

Her eyes darted from place to place until she saw a figure standing there.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” she whipped her head to the glowing red eyes staring at her. Has he lost his mind?! “Why did you shoot me! What the hell is wrong with you have you lost your damn mind” Catra hissed

Hordak didn't respond except with a simple “Hello Catra.” eyes narrowed dangerously as he snarls, his glowing red fangs showing in a sneer as he walked out the shadows, towering over her, his imposing form casted a shadow over her.

Catra didn't want to admit how intimidated she felt at that simple answer. It sent a shiver down her spin as she took a step back.

“hello? Are you gonna answer why you attempted to shoot me!” Catra snapped impatiently. demanding an answer from her boss but he didn't answer instead he aimed his cannon again as it charged up once more, a red light highlighting her face. He wasn't gonna have a conversation at the moment it seems

She gulped in fear, her eyes wide in fear and she bolted.

She didn't need an answer to know he was pissed about something and she wasn't staying to find out so she ran out the room.

Hordak just followed after her. He seemed surprisingly calm as if letting his anger fester to a boiling point.

“Run all you like, force captain, but you will regret this day for the rest of your life. I have been patient with you far too long. I gave you chance after chance. I have given you many opportunities to come forth and tell the truth, but time and again you have proven how untrustworthy you are. I would have been a bit more understanding if you had come to me with the truth, your punishment would have been less severe”

He growled and aimed his cannon “But.This lie I cannot forgive.” he fired but missed cause she dodged so he just kept chasing.

He stalked her as she scrambled for a place to hide, each time she tried to go down a hall, he would blast the walls, causing her to scramble to a different area.

She was too fast and agile for him to get a good hit on her, so he just led her to an easier room to corner her.

Catra panted as she dodged the beams that came flying at her; she rushed to a room, but another beam shot at her.

She dodged it and went to another room, she can't keep this up forever. She will tire herself out if she does, her adrenaline can only help so much.

She rushed into an open room and tried to jump on the rafters hanging in the room, but suddenly the beam scorched her back, causing her to scream out and fall to the ground with a heavy thud.

Hordak couldn't help a chuckle when he got her. It wasn't a full hit, but he scorched her fur, seeing the red scarred skin on her back where the fur was singed off was satisfactory enough for him.

“What's the matter, force captain? I thought you were more spry? You always gave the princess hard times with your acrobatic fighting. But here you are, lying on the floor in pain.?” He mocked, crouching down to her level.

"It's not fun being burned now, is it?” Hordak sneert and tilted his head

“Feeling a betrayal that came out of nowhere? Like what friendship you thought you had was a sudden deception?. It's not a good feeling. Is it Catra? I'm sure Entrapta would agree." Hordak snarled, Making a clear comparison.

“You hurt her. You hurt her when she trusted you and even helped you out when you needed it the most! You betrayed her” he clenched his fist, the cannon charging up again

Catra carefully got up, seething in pain, every move shot stinging needles through her body, it hurt so much. Her eyes narrowed; he was hinting at something.

How did he find out?.

She made sure nobody knew, and it wasn't Scorpia.

“What are you talking about?” She growled and glanced around, she couldn't run or hide. She can only fight now.

She got into a defensive stance. Spreading her legs and digging her feet into the ground as her tail sways for balance.

She has no choice but to face off against him, so be it.

Hordak growled “I remind you, I do not care for being lied to, yet for months I thought the woman I cared about betrayed me. For months I thought the one person who I could trust left me, after I opened myself to her and let her, I was led to believe she manipulated and used me, but no. No... SHE WAS TAKEN FROM ME! BY YOU!” He screamed and aimed his cannon to fire at her.

Catra gasped and her eyes widened more as her pupils went slit for a moment, her ears pinned back at what she saw. She never saw him like this, she never saw him this…

Angry

All that was seen was anger, revenge, hurt and betrayal.

Revenge for the one who wronged him, who wronged Entrapta, the one who caused them to hurt.

And she will pay.

Catra got out of the way and dug her claws into the ground and launched herself onto Hordak, she struggled to use his weight and height against this time, but Hordak learned from before and With the cannon he was much heavier to take down.

She latched onto him and clawed at his armor and body trying to get through the armor but it was much stronger then normal metal, Entrapta must have reinforced it when she made it for him.

“I had to! She wouldn't let us open the portal! We would have lost! She was a danger to our mission!” Catra tried to make it sound like she did him a favor for riding Entrapta like she was the weight holding them back. She gripped onto his armor and slashed his face, cutting him surprisingly, he had slightly thicker skin. But seeing his blood trickle down and his mascara leak with it.

She scratched the metal trying to rip it apart, ignoring her claws taking damage from how hard she tried to pry the metal apart.

Hordak dropped the calm demeanor, his rage was in full show.

He wants her dead.

Well, she isn't going down without a fight. He can still bleed like the rest of them.

Hordak roared in pain and exasperation from the scratch, blood trickling down his face, he grabbed her by her hair roughly and threw her off and to a nearby wall, her claws scratched his armor but he didn't even care.

He tried to slash her with his talons but she slumped before he could get her, his claws embedded into the metal as he tore them out, leaving a deep gash into the metal.

Some of her hair was clinging to his other hand from how hard he gripped her. Catra grunted when the air was knocked out of her, she struggled to get back up. Her back aches in pain as she struggles to sit up.

She shouldn't have run so much, her body was already starting to get tired and sore. She spat out some blood as it stained her fur near her lips.

Damn it.

Hordak was getting closer again, his fist clenched with her hair still tangled in his hand, he growled and unclenched her fist as it fell to the floor before crushing it under his foot.

“Our mission? There's no us! It's only you! You're so blinded by your one-sided hatred of that princess, it is laughably nonsensical! You claim you don't 'need her,' that you are stronger. But you're the one who's weak. You've always been weak, you have a fragile pride."

He bent down and grabbed her throat and aimed his cannon as it charged up. The hum of the cannon was loud as the heat radiated off and breezed in catra’s face.

"Not to mention your self-destructive tendencies that affect not only you but everyone and everything around you." his tone turned icy cold.

Catra's eyes widened, and her eyes slit into lines as she kicked his cannon before it could hit her.

Feeling the heat blow passed her, burning the tips of her fur as it missed.

She managed to grab one of the wires and scratched it so his cannon malfunctioned. Hordak grunted and lowered his arm as his cannon powered down.

“SAY’S YOU! You were so upset when Entrapta *left* oh, you were so heartbroken you didn't come out of the sanctum for a week!! because that annoying nerd *betrayed* you! Don't forget, you are weak as well! Defect.” She grinned and tried to claw at his wrist so he released her.

Blood was dripping down from his wrist. Hordak narrows his eyes and tightens his grip on her neck, his large talons digging into her skin and puncturing it.

He growled at her weak claws scratching his wrist. The pain got too much and he was forced to release her. “ You were the cause of my melancholy state!!” His red eyes glowed with intensity, his crystal brightened as he ripped the cannon off.

Both of them had no weapons. It was just strength now. Strength and strategy.

“What I find most entertaining is that you complain to me about your pathetic, tragic life when I was banishing you to the Crimson Waste,” he scoffed. Trying to slash her as she dodged and scratched his chest, ripping the dress where the horde logo brand showed, causing him to grunt and stagger back.

"As if that is an excuse for your dishonest behavior.“Nobody cares how bad you have it. Do you honestly think you had it the worst?” He sneered and slashed her in the shoulder trying to get a grip on her.

"Because I feel complete indifference."

Catra fully pinned her ears back and growled, baring her fangs. As she was insulted, she flexed her claws and slashed at the split panel of his dress, tearing his thigh.

“Of course I did! Shadow Weaver neglected me! ABUSED ME. She always preferred Adora over me. She made that known every damn day. That old bitch reminds me every day I was nothing! That I was the cause of Adora's mistakes. I was her distraction! I was to BLAME! ME! Everyone hates me! So why should I care if I hurt them!They hurt me, so I'm going to hurt them back!” her tail fluffed up and wagged. Dodging another of his slashes.

“You suck at being The Horde leader so bad it was easy to do things behind your back. The Horde is everything because of me!” She smirks and slashes at his neck, aiming for the crystal.

Hordak grunted and backed up from her attacks, he knew she fought dirty and wasn't going to allow her to get her disgusting furry claws on his crystal.

“That's life, and you have a lot to learn. Life is unjust, life is cruel. And inequitable no matter how much you try to prove your worth, nobody would care, nor do I. Do you honestly believe that you should receive a medal because of your grave upbringing? Life doesn't work that way, grow up and deal with it. Because life isn't going to bend to your will." He flexed his claws, lowering his ears.

“You believe you ran the Horde simply because I allowed you to take charge the past three years. It doesn't mean you *run* things, you're just a force captain , but I created the Horde, I worked hard to make the Horde what it is. Introducing the tech that aided the Horde to take down the scorpion Kingdom, it fell to its knees, and I made it to what it is now. It may not have been perfect, but I led it for years," he snarled.

"You ran it well at first, but then you also ran it chaotically, our army unkept and wounded, soldiers going AWOL. Tech getting taken by the rebellion. You were so focused on vengeance you lacked seeing the destruction you caused to those around you and yourself, and a life was lost because of you!.” He rushed forward and slashed at her, cutting her face and even sliced her head piece in half.

Catra cried out as blood leaked down her face, her skin ripped open as blood dripped on the floor, a few of her hair was missing.

Her head piece on the floor broke in two, allowing her hair to get in her face.

Catra was panting heavily, her pupils slit, her tail fluffed as she flexed her claws and jumped to her feet to slashed back, aiming for his face as she lunged forward and took a bite at his neck, aiming for his jugular.

Hordak was also panting, equally exhausted but he didn't back down and couldn't back away in time, grunting in pain as her small fangs pierced his neck, he snatched her hair once more and ripped her off, his neck bleeding but his mind didn't focus on the pain. He was more concerned about killing this cat.

Catra cried out at her hair being pulled, she gripped his wrist and kicked him hard in his chin, forcing him to release her as she landed on her feet and slashed at his side where his armored dress didn't cover.

Hordak roared out in pain as his skin stung in agony. Blood leaking, his red eyes glowed brighter as he held his side in pain and used his other hand to slash her face but she moved too quickly.

Catra used the wall to bounce off and kick Hordak in the thigh where she clawed him, bouncing back at another slash. She got cocky and grabbed onto a rafter and swung herself over him and kicked his head.

Hordak this time dodged and grabbed her by her tail.

Catra yowled in pain as she was suddenly slammed hard onto the ground, her tail was broken and bent in an unnatural shape, She coughed up blood.

Hordak was heaving in anger and pain, one of his eyes was closed and had a slash mark, his mouth bleeding as well.

“Your quick but your overconfidence is your downfall Catra!” He panted, whipping his mouth

“Your backhanded persona is laughable, you pray on others smaller and vulnerable because you can't confront those stronger than you, you play dirty in fights because you're too weak to actually hold your own properly. You whine when things don't go your way. You're so pathetic.” He narrowed his eyes and pinned her down, before she could get up.

He was ready to finish her off.

“You will pay for what you did! You will pay for killing Entrapta, I'm gonna to avenge her by ending you and I'll have great pleasure doing so! Remember this day in your pathetic life! This will be your mistake! You're a worthless being, foolish, believing you only know pain, you know nothing. You think you're the only one who hurts, others have lost members by death, others had to survive with absolutely nothing. You didn't lose anything, you made your choice. You chose your side. So you're living with it and making it everyone's problem.” Hordak mocks and is gonna slash her neck.

Catra's eyes widened in fear. She was gonna die. No. She has to stop this!

Using her last resort she reached forward and grabbed the crystal and yanked it out of his armor, cracking the crystal a little by doing so.

Hordak screamed in agony as his armor malfunctioned, electrocuting his body in the process, he fell to his knees clutching his chest where his crystal once was.

Catra quickly scrambled back, panting hard. Her eyes were still wide as she tossed the crystal somewhere and tried to run. But her tail being broken caused her to stagger and hit the wall.

Holding her arm she slumped down, not caring anymore.

Tears were falling down her eyes from pain. Physical and emotional, his words hit deep.

But it wasn't his insults.

It was the truth in them. The truth she tried to hide in herself. She hurt others and this was her paying the price. She shut her eyes.

Hordak was clutching his chest in pain, the exhaustion from the fight was taking over. His eyes darkened. He heard footsteps and the sound of magic. So the princesses come to finish him off. At least he will be reunited with Entrapta in the afterlife hopefully.

“HORDAK!”

He heard a voice.

“ENTRAPTA GET BACK HERE! I SAID STAY AT MY SIDE!!” another voice was heard

“HORDAK'S HURT!! HORDAK!!”

that voice? Could it be… Entrapta?

Footsteps closed in.

Hordak opened his eyes and saw two blurry figures, one rushing to him.

But suddenly everything was green and he felt himself lifted.

Prime has come.

[shadows-of-a-memory]

i don’t need a roof - e.u.

trigger warning: none song: i don't need a roof author's note: closer to an imagine than a fic gary "eggsy" unwin masterlist

It's the sounds that wake you, finding Eggsy tossing and turning and struggling to breathe. "Eggsy?!" You exclaim, moving to your husband's side as quickly as you can. "Honey, what's wrong? What happened?"

"I was-" he pants, "drowning- hngh-" Your hands flutter frantically about him, not processing his words, trying to deduce the source of pain. He clutches tightly at his side, strands of wet hair falling over his face. "It all-" he grunts again, "-got kinda blurry."

He shifts slightly, laying on his uninjured side and propped up on his elbow beside you, head in your lap. Your hands come to rub his shoulders gently, concern never dissipating, but knowing he needs you to be strong.

Your breath is shaky. "You're right here with me," you comfort, breathing coming hard for the both of you as your hearts slow their running. In the relative silence, you can both hear the rain pitter-pattering outside.

in your face

"I finished-" he pauses, "the roof. Reshingling it." Another pause as he breathes through the pain. "Before this happened."

i see a lifetime

You nod, knowing what he means by 'this'. A simple infiltration quickly gone awry, due to a mole in kingsman compromising your covers. You had both fought to the end, but your resources were finite... and your target and captor, an organization known as Octa, had what seemed like infinite resources. And infinite cannon fodder.

in this place

Which brings you to now. You hadn't suffered much, as it was a deeply misogynistic group with the perspective of "how much trouble can she be, she's a woman"; but Eggsy had only gotten thrown back in your little cell around two hours ago, after what felt like at least a day of torture. It's probably shorter than that, as you have no way to measure time, but still. He's been waterboarded, beaten, whipped, and you think a few of his ribs to be broken as well. On top of that, he took a bullet—to the leg, nothing too crazy—in the fight beforehand. Overall, not the greatest condition. You've got a few bruises and wounds yourself, but nowhere near what he's dealing with.

i feel at ease

Belatedly, you realize you forgot to respond, and he can't see your head moving. "Yeah?" You confirm quietly.

wallpaper peeling, paint wearing thin

"The account has... ten years' rent in it..." Eggsy's chest heaves with the exertion of speaking. "You'll be fine."

No, you want to scream, No, I won't, I can't be, not without you, but you don't. Because he needs you to be strong. Because if you can't make yourself to be strong, he won't allow himself to be weak.

"Ah!" He hisses, turning slightly and to press his opposite fist into the ground and lift himself just barely, attempting to alleviate some of the pressure. "Sorry, luv- shouldn't've said- that-"

You take care as you help him sit up, clasping one of his hands in yours and supporting him as much as you can. You bend your head, trying to meet his eyes, and release his hand to cup his face with the one of yours not holding him up.

here's where i end and begin

"I don't need a roof to say I'm covered," you promise. "I don't need a roof to know I'm home." He leans forward slightly, most of his bodyweight transferring to you, but you don't budge. Your hand moves to the nape of his neck, playing slightly with his hair.

there could be a single shingle-dangling overhead

"Close your eyes," you encourage, feeling the struggle to try and support himself again. "I'm still beside you."

i don't need a roof to make my bed

Eggsy falls once more, shuddering against you. "I'm sorr-"

"No," you interrupt quietly. You can hear the rattle in his voice; can hear how much it takes for even those two syllables. You know he's probably punctured a lung; know that, at this point, it's a question of whether that or the blood loss will kill him first. You know your husband doesn't have long and it takes everything in you to keep the tremor out of your voice when you speak again. "No goodbyes needed today."

With that, the two of you sit, you humming a soft lullaby as rain patters down, the only other sound Eggsy's ragged breathing. If you close your eyes, you can almost imagine you're back at home, cuddling on the couch together with JB annoying your husband and a book in your hands.

hear what the rain says, know what it knows

You can almost hear yourself complaining about how messy your hair will be. Can almost hear Eggsy's response everytime you do. "Look on the brightside, luv. After the rain, something grows."

You can picture the happier times. Picture you and him in the kitchen, trying to make brownie batter but interrupted by your husband's decision that it's the perfect time to dance. Picture his arms wrapping around your waist, swatting them away, only to have the whisk removed as he twirls you to face him, positioning the two of you to sway to whatever song he put on.

i don't need a legal deed

You don't know when your offhanded humming turned to a melody line to the words—quiet ones, but words nonetheless—of your first dance song. "I don't need a roof to say I love you / I don't need a roof to call you mine / I don't need adventure in some far away frontier / I don't need a roof to feel you near."

to help me play my part

Eggsy is apparently still conscious, as he taps in morse code along your thigh, your singing falling off as you concentrate on the message. Dot dot long pause dot dash dot dot pause dash dash dash pause dot dot dot dash pause dot long pause dash dot dash dash pause dash dash dash pause dot dot dash. I L-O-V-E Y-O-U.

"I love you, too, Eggs." Your mind flashes to promises you've made over time to him. "All I need is you and you forever; All I feel is true and absolute."

His hand squeezes yours, and the pressure travels up to your heart, to your throat, choking out your life with each millimeter his slips away. You try to lay him down, but another squeeze stops you, an implicit let me stay this way. Your husband tilts his head up, meeting your eyes for the first time since you started supporting him, and you can't control the slight gasp at the blood that comes out as he coughs. In what appears to be extreme effort, and probably takes even more than is shown, he lifts his hand to cup your face.

His voice comes out as a whisper, each syllable formed determinedly, distinctly, desperately. "I don't- cough need- pant a ro- pant a roof to- cough hold- cough cough my he- pant heart," he whispers, finishing the line.

A tear slips down your cheek, closing your eyes to keep its siblings in. You feel it wiped away gently, Eggsy collapsing once more against you. You rub his shoulders, trying to impart what little comfort you can. You don’t trust yourself to open your mouth, worried that the sobs clawing their way up your throat will take it as an opportunity.

At some point, sitting there holding him—maybe milliseconds, maybe minutes, maybe days later, what feels like the blink of an eye and an eternity wrapped into one—you feel him inhale shakily against your breast with no exhale to follow, hand going limp against your thigh and body going heaver still.

“No,” you choke out, not sure if it comes out as a scream or a whisper, if your vocal chords will ever work again, as it feels he’s taken all speech with him. You lay him down gently, his eyes already closed, clutching his hand as if it’s a lifeline. You have the presence of mind to know CPR will have no effect, instead grabbing his other hand, limp but warm, and pulling it to your cheek.

“Stay with me,” you plead. “Eggs, please, please, just stay with me.”

You don’t know how long you babble, words turning indecipherable as they’re overtaken by guy-wrenching sobs. “Please, please.”

Your throat raw, you eventually stop, wiping the blood from his lips and pressing a final kiss to them. Your vigil turns silent, staring, willing at him to heal and return to you, but it doesn’t happen. You don’t notice yourself falling asleep until it happens, chilled to the bone—and all you can hope is that, maybe in the morning. you’ll be with him again under a new roof.

And when you wake curled up beside a corpse, having burrowed into him subconsciously in your sleep, your heart breaks all over again.

Roofless.

[nerdy-the-artist]

Nerdy the Artist’s Metroid Fanfic Spotlight part 2!

This is something I’ve been needing to do for a hot minute now. As I said last time, there are so many talented writers, artists, and musicians in the Metroid fanbase. The level of creativity and passion for the series is just astounding. Today we will be taking a look at some of the many fanfictions out there. I’ve read these stories myself and can personally attest that they are well worth your time to read. From the cute and fluffy to the grotesque and violent, these stories have earned their place on my recommendations. Without further adue, let’s start this thing.

1. Mostly Just a Power Suit

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17637701

This story, written by Planet_Bryyo, is short and sweet, diving into a fan favorite but rarely explored character of Weavel from Metroid Prime Hunters. In spite of his fan favorite status among the hunters, up there even with Sylux, you’ll be hard pressed to find many fics featuring him. This story shows off his reaction to being transformed into a Non-Zebesian form during his cybernetic reconstruction. The story also spends a great deal of time focusing on the reactions of other Space Pirates seeing this fallen commander, now a lone wolf who is more machine than… man? Alien terminology, ugh. In any case you can see their reactions to this loose cannon in a bar setting. Side tangent, the idea of a Space Pirate bar is actually really unique. We don’t see much of Space Pirates at rest anywhere, so this is actually a welcome touch.

2. Fallen from the Nest

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53675155/chapters/135874063

Going all in on Bounty Hunters this spotlight, I suppose. This story, written by PuriKuma, is much longer than Mostly Just a Power Suit, though still digestible. This is part of a larger series that I do recommend, but I’ll stick to talking about this entry for now. Keeping with the Hunters appreciation, this story depicts a shared mission between Samus and Noxus, the Vhozon Bounty Hunter from the same game as Weavel and Sylux. The mission brief is simple; a criminal organization called the Ashlings, lead by the physically imposing Andron, have taken hostages, including a Federation Senator, to barter in exchange for a precious and expensive ore. Samus is to go after the Ashling secret base while Noxus intercepts the hostages so that the criminals are not rewarded for their efforts. However, what gives Samus pause is the identity of one of their members. From there, the story takes plenty of intriguing twists and turns. The ways in which Samus and Noxus play off each other in this story are extremely entertaining and interesting to watch. It also adds a fair bit to the latter’s character which I have yet to see anywhere else, a sarcastic playfulness in his attitude that bounces well off of Samus’s stoicism. He’s able to taunt and poke fun at the emotional core behind the front that Samus puts on. Their interactions alone would be worth a read, but the plots twists and mysteries involved really take this story to the next level. This story, and the series it’s a part of, are an instant classic for me.

3. A Win

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48254998/chapters/121695439

Sometimes, we all just need a reminder that we’re doing good, that we aren’t a burden, that we are worthy, that our actions have helped people. This story, written by orphan_account, is that for Samus Aran. Taking place after the events of Metroid Dread, Samus is in a bit of a slump after feeling like she’s only seen as a threat or a tool for higher powers. To attempt some soul searching, she journeys to one of the few game settings that is left better than when she arrived; Aether. She wanders through a reinvigorated and rehabilitated world, free from the influence of Dark Aether and Space Pirates, seeing how the world has healed in her time away. Granted, I am not too familiar with Metroid Prime 2, so much of the reader’s catharsis is likely lost on me. Still, even as someone who has little prior knowledge of the past of Aether, this story still is a nice, sentimental journey, with an appearance from some old friends.

4. Hatchling

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29039376/chapters/71275923

Now, back to where it all began. This story, written by MetroidReploid, is a retelling of an old tale we all know, the story of Samus Aran losing everything. This retelling focuses more on Samus’s life as a child, going into detail about the life she lives, so that when the Space Pirates take it all away, we understand what exactly she’s losing. There’s also some further fleshing out of Adam here as well. He shows up as a young, bright Federation Officer with a preexisting connection to Virginia Aran, Samus’s mother, a connection which has strained her relationship with Rodney Aran. Unlike the simple housewife we see in the manga, Virginia is portrayed as a working mom, leading a security firm tasked with guarding K2-L. Rodney, by contrast, is a bitter, angry man who takes his public image, and that of his company, very seriously. It’s a story full of a lot of angst, but it does its job fairly well in terms of adding some reason to why things happen and when.

5. “Sammy”

Link:

Now, if you need a break from all the angst and dreariness, SeleneLawfulGood has you covered! This story is a short and sweet fluff story, featuring a young woman named Thae’Lia finding a tired but very attractive woman at a bar named Sammy. I think we all know the twist so I won’t beat around the bush. It’s really cute (and with some mild lemon toward the end but you didn’t hear that from me) and displays a rarely seen aspect of the series; how do the citizens of the Galactic Federation view Samus Aran? We rarely, if ever, see non-combatant intelligent life in any Metroid game, so we don’t really get much of that. It also gives a view into what the life of a Bounty Hunter is like. It’s a very lonely, tiring existence that, while it pays well when you save the Galaxy, like, 5 times, needs an extra aspect to be fulfilling. For Samus, it’s the moral obligation she feels. It’s a very cute read, and if you need something sweet, this’ll do the job. Also, trans Samus solidarity.

6. Let Me Tell You How Much I’ve Come To Hate You

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45854323

Getting back to Space Pirates, doorstopQuiet has delved into an aspect of the series that even Metroid Prime itself largely glosses over; Ridley’s reconstruction into Meta Ridley. In truth, it was largely not his idea. As the highest ranking survivor of Samus’s rampage on Zebes, Ridley got lobbed with the blame for the cataclysm. The only reason he had survived was a great shame for the Cunning God of Death. He played dead. He let himself sink into Norfair’s magma, slowly burning away his flesh, but at least he had some chance to survive. He was crippled, mangled, burnt to a crisp, but at least she would not kill him. Still, High Command’s punishment, their loathing of the failed god, was almost worse. He would not command armies, he would not have the same autonomy he once did. He would become a machine for their empire, reconstructed as a tool. It’s a great short story, filled with colorful language and allusions to his past to hammer home the gravity of how far he’s sunk. There are also plenty of references and quotations from Man on The Internet’s Ridley theme vocal cover, which I do find entertaining. I find this to be an excellent read, and really reimagines Meta Ridley in Metroid Prime as a fallen god, stripped of his authority, and sent after the one who felled him.

7. Independent Contractors

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40993332?view_adult=true

This story, written by ifThen_doWhile, shows off Samus in a post Fusion Federation, one that has grown far more wary of her. They still have need of her, however, and so an agent of the Federation is sent to hire a Samus who has not been returning digital requests for her services. The agent, named Aiden, is sent in with top of the line weaponry in case things go south, alongside surveillance of the Hunter’s activities. Upon finding her, Aiden is in for a big surprise. This story really hammers home how heart poundingly nerve racking it is to approach the Hunter who has destroyed 3 planets, especially when tensions are running hot. Samus is portrayed as pragmatic but quiet, her demeanor easily misinterpreted as callous indifference, a guise she leans into at times. It’s a very good, suspenseful story that I highly recommend.

8. Metroid: No Other

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59261113

This story, written by @dappercritter , is actually my most recent read. What’s this? An actual Tumblr link? For once, yes. I saw the announcement post on Tumblr that it was out and jumped at the opportunity to read it. It’s quite good, but quite long. Don’t let the 1 chapter limit fool you, you might not finish it in 1 sitting. In any case, No Other starts off with something of a trope among fanfictions; Other M as an in-universe film. I still find it amusing. However, as this story follows on after Dread, Adam comments on Samus not taking care of herself properly, not addressing any of the trauma from ZDR, avoiding social events, and generally withdrawing from the world around her, prompted by an increasing distrust of the Federation, and the Galaxy as a whole. We also see that Samus does not seem to trust Adam, both due to his origin as an AI made to spy on her, and increased by Raven Beak’s mimicry of him. It’s an angle I haven’t seen anywhere else and is a welcome change of pace. In any case, Samus further withdraws from Adam and into what she does best; Bounty Hunting. However, shortly after her arrival to planet Ohma-984, a new threat emerges, intent on bringing out her dark side. Without going into spoilers, the antagonist’s design is absolutely badass, and I might actually draw him some time. The action sequences in this story, likewise, are absolutely brutal and well thought out. There’s a lot of noticeable influences from other franchises like Godzilla, Metal Gear Rising, and Doom that feel well at home in this story and don’t take away from it at all though that may be me simply being a fan of those series. DapperCritter mentioned specifically Shin Kamen Rider, though I’m not a fan of that series, so I can’t attest to how prominent the influence is. Regardless, it’s a thought provoking story with plenty of brutal action packed in as well, plus I love the original character designs, which take from canon while tagging on further additions.

Honorable Mention: Kanden Story Pitch

Link: https://www.tumblr.com/sepublic/759167079922417664/kanden-debut-pitch

I’m putting this as an honorable mention as it is meant as an outline for a story, so it may not scratch the same itch for some people as a fully written out story. This outline, by @sepublic is meant for a hypothetical Metroid animated series, similar to the original Clone Wars series (not THE Clone Wars!) by Genndy Tartakovsky. This one off features another under appreciated Bounty Hunter, Kanden, facing off against Samus over a Metroid which could give him true power unrivaled. It’s an excellent read, though, once again, if you’re looking for something more completed/traditional, I can understand if this doesn’t suck you in as well. However, I am currently working on a storyboard of this story. I won’t be animating it in full, but there will be sound effects, music, and voice acting. So uh… stay tuned for that!

As I said at that start, these stories are great, and really show off the passion these writers have for the series. However, there are plenty more out there. In the comments, share some of your favorite Metroid Fanfictions you’ve read. I can always do with expanding my Metroid reading list and I’m sure some of you feel the same way.

[l0starl]

˗ˏˋPut em higher than Mary Jane˗ˏˋ

Ingredients : Sugar, cinnamon, lemon, sour candy

I got this idea from this FIC‼️Not my original idea‼️

୨୧ Warnings : Cursing, readers death, violence, blood, maybe angst

Summary : Your sick and tired of being a Mary Jane or a Gwen Stacy, your sick of being merely a love interest, your sick of watching yourself die while spiderman can never get over it.

⟢ Participants : Miles (1610)

W/c : 770

“After all death loves Gwen Stacy”

“No…no…no..NO!” Miles cried out holding your lifeless body in his arms…

You died…Again, an endless loop of the tragic spiderman stories that you only serve one purpose, to be a love interest, nothing more.

Your just a pawn in someone else’s game, if they want to kill you off they’ll do it, no hesitation…All the Gwen Stacy’s are dead…except one, ghost spider…spider woman, what’s interesting about her you may ask? She’s the only one to be bitten by a spider..

And the only one who’s still alive…..:)

Your a mix between the two, either way they both end up dying, spiderman is the main character after all, your merely a side character, your sick and tired of watching yourself die in other dimensions, you know you’ll be next, it’s only a matter of time before you’ll be lying in your grave…

But you refuse to follow those “cannon events” you’ll find away to live, you’ll find a way to break the cycle, Gwen has managed to “cheat” death, you’ll do the same as well.

Ms. Morales always considered you like a daughter, you were always welcomed into their home, and you would always spend your time with Miles goofing off.

But lately, you both have been drifting far apart, he’s hiding something from you, and he knows your suspicions of him, he’s always coming to your window injured, having you worried sick tendering his wounds while you scold him, and he won’t tell you where he’s been, won’t tell how he got injured, having you so worried you exploded his phone with calls and texts, he knows he’s taking you for granted. He doesn’t deserve you.

Lately, all he ever talks about is “Gwanda” Apparently she’s from South Africa, you basically know everything about her, and you haven’t even met her! She seems like a nice person, but the way he speaks about her makes you feel….

Jealous..?

You wish he would talk like that with you, always bringing her up when your speaking to him

“Oh, gwanda does the same thing yk? She’s i-“

“Yes miles! I know she’s in a band, I know she plays the drums, I know everything single thing about her!” You retorted

“You make everything about her! Even when I’m speaking to you about something that has nothing to do with her, you always bring her up! But you can’t help it can you?” You sighed

Miles had a saddened expression

“You know I didn’t mean it like that, I just like talking to you about this stuff yk?” Miles replied

“You talk about her so much, I wished you’d talk about me like that, the way you so engaged just to tell me a simple story about her” you snapped

“And you’re always coming through my window injured, having me worried sick and you can you at least tell me where you’ve been? You spat

“Where do you go miles? Because lately you’ve been sneaking out and coming back hurt” you hissed

“Look, I- I just can’t tell you right now, maybe in the future alright” Miles replied

“You know Miles, maybe we need a break from each other, we’ll talk when you tell me what you’ve been hiding” you responded as you walked away, leaving Miles, not bothering to turn around…

He knew he fucked up…….Real bad.

Miles went home that night, contemplating if he should tell you what he’s been hiding all this time. After Uncle Aaron’s death, you always came to comfort him during those hardships, no matter how many times he pushed you away or isolated himself from the world, you were always there for him.

You were now walking home, and it was raining hard, you hated the way your clothes clung to your body, prohibiting some of your movements. You pulled up your hoodie in frustration, why was Miles always bringing her up?

You arrived home soaking wet, the air was crispy, and the house was awfully quiet.

“Mom? Dad? I'm home?” you spoke loudly

No response

“Maybe they aren't home right now…” she muttered to herself

You take off your jacket leaving it in the laundry basket near your room, you notice a note on your door.

“We won't be home for a few days, I left you some food in the fridge, you can heat it up for dinner. - Mom”

You sighed entering your room and collapsing onto the bed, today’s been a rough day..Your heart aches for being to harsh on miles, but who could blame you? He’s hiding something…

And you’ll get to the bottom of it

[justwhisperingfantasies]

Memories Part 2

Characters: Dean Winchester x Female Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel. Mick Davies. Mention of other SPN characters.

Warnings: memory wipe, language, angst, cute dean, fluff, not exactly cannon, implied smut, gun being pulled.

A/N: This is a continuation of my first-ever fic post. Please go easy on me. Hope you enjoy

Summary: You've had your memory wiped and sent off to your death. Sam, Dean, and Cas save you just before it is too late. the guys struggle with being strangers to you after all the years you have shared. You are forced into a life-altering dilemma.

Word count: 4,105 words

************************************************************************

Your stomach twisted. “Are you serious?” Why would I not want all my memories back? 

“Don't look at me like that. This life is hard. You could have a clean cut right now.” His face turned glum as he grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers“ You've been through a lot of shit. No one would judge you if you did choose not to.” You heard his phone vibrating in his pocket. He took it out and answered. “Yeah. Alright. Give me a minute.” He tapped the phone and put it in his back pocket, not taking his eyes away from yours. 

You could see the extra wetness in his eyes, making another tear roll down your cheek. He wiped it away and pulled you into his arms, your arms automatically wrapped underneath his and around him. You laid your face against his chest. He kissed your forehead and said, “I’m sorry, sweetheart, just worry about getting cleaned up right now. Everything you need should still be in your bathroom. If not, your phone is on the nightstand on the right. Text me, and I'll make sure you get it. The food will probably be done right around the time you get out. Okay?” 

How can he do this with just a hug? It was so peaceful and safe in his arms. You never wanted to let go, but it had been a tough day and you needed a shower. (your fav food) didn't sound too bad, either. You nodded as you slowly pulled back your face. He took your face in his hands, wiping away more tears. “We will figure all this out later, okay?” he kissed your forehead again, and you felt a drop on your face. 

“Okay. I'm sorry” you manage to pull yourself together.

“Don't apologize. We will get it all figured out,” he said as he let his hands fall to his sides and you did the same.” Do you want me to stay here and wait?”

“No, it's ok. Thank you though. For everything.” you smiled 

“Anytime. Call or text if you need me.” he smiled back and then walked out the door closing it behind him.

You sit down on the bed as you try to collect your thoughts. How could you not get your memories back?! However, you did notice when Dean was describing everyone, it was in the past tense. It might be nice just to break away and have a normal life I guess. No monsters, no demons, no insane British people trying to wipe your mind. (y/n) have a nice hot shower get some food and think about this later. You told yourself. You got up and tried to shake it off. 

“Yes hot shower and some food,” you replied out loud to yourself. You walked into the bathroom and it was simple and nice. the same wood panel as the bedroom. White tile walls with black grout line. Decent size shower. The bathtub was probably bigger than most and a white porcelain sink with a black cabinet underneath. Big mirror above it with a black frame. You turned the shower knob all the way over to hot and waited for the water to warm.

************************************************************************

As Dean shut your door he leaned back on it and sighed. What the hell am I going to do if she doesn't want her memories back?! How could l live without her?! Just then his cell phone started vibrating again. “Yeah, I'm coming.” 

He walked back down To the library. 

“Well, it's about time chum?” Mick Davies was sitting at the first table across from Sam and Cas.

“Oh, I'm sorry I made you wait while I had to comfort my girlfriend that has had her memory wiped twice, almost killed, and kinda freaking out right now. I feel so bad for you.” Dean said raising his voice some. 

“Dean, I know. okay? That's why I called you.” Davies said with guilt in his eyes. “Did you find it?”

“Yes we did,” Sam said as he wheeled Over an older machine. Davies plunged it in and it turned in. 

It started beeping and lights started flickering. 

“Ah, she still works.” He said as he opened a small door below the device. “And there's more than enough of the serum to work. Where's the lovely lass?”

Dean's eyes narrowed “She's upstairs taking a shower.” 

Just then the kitchen buzzer went off. “Shit gotta get that,” Sam said as he hurried to the kitchen. 

“What are we havin'?” Davies asks

“ I don't know what you're having, but We are having (your fav food).” Dean still had an attitude. 

“Dean, let's go see if Sam needs any help.” It was obvious Castiel just wanted to talk to Dean in private. They walked over to the kitchen doorway. Dean looked back, keeping an eye on Mick. 

“ Dean, I don't like them either, but he did just risk his ass to save her. Maybe we should be more welcoming.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “ I'll feed him, but I'm not painting his toenails.” he went over to help Sam.

Cas then rolled His eyes and walked back to the library.

************************************************************************

That shower really hit the spot. You dried off and put your clothes on. You were brushing your hair when you started thinking about Dean. It's nuts how close you felt to him even though he was a stranger at the moment. Thinking over the tour you remember the our rooms thing you could have sworn he said our room. 

Your curiosity got the better of you and you opened the closet. There were women's clothes on the right and men's clothes on the left. You couldn't help yourself. You went to the nightstand on the left And opened the drawer. There was a lore book, a flashlight, a phone charger, a gun, a silver knife, and a box of condoms.  You went to the other nightstand and opened the drawer, you found a pair of glasses, a lore book, a silver knife, a gun, earbuds, hand sanitizer, with a phone sitting on top of the stand. You put on the glasses. Yep, this Was your side you thought as you put them back. You picked the phone up and swiped the screen. A picture of you and Dean showed on the screen. you two were standing By the car again in mid-laugh. It was super cute. You flinched when it started to vibrate. Dean's name came up with an adorable picture of him sleeping. You tapped the Green button. 

“Sup?” you said in a deep voice

“Really? Well, home dawg I was calling to see if you done because the food is ready.” Dean understood your banter so well. 

“Alright, I'm on my way.”

“Lov…’ the call ended.

“ God, I fuckng hate this!” Dean said as he shoved his phone back in his pocket.

“I know Dean.” Sam tried to comfort his brother as he carried the food over the table. “Just let her eat some food and then we can fix this..”

“Well if that's what she wants,” Dean said hoping you wouldn't want to forget him. He walked over to get the plates out.

“Wait what the hell are you talking about?” Sam Demanded

“ Think about it Sammy, she has been through so much pain. She could turn the other cheek and start living a normal life.” He set a plate for each of them on the table. 

“But dean?” 

“It's her choice and we will be happy for her either way!” 

“So you could just let her go?” Sam doubted as he put out everyone's silverware.

“If that's what she wants,” he argued. “Do you need anything else?

“No, that's all. Thanks.” Sam sighed “My money is on her choosing you.”

“GET BACK CASTIEL ITS ONE OF THEM!!” Sam and Dean heard you yell

They looked at each other and then ran for the library.

“(Y/N) PUT THE GUN DOWN!” you looked at Dean. “He is here to help. This is Mick, he's the one who called us and told us where you were. He can restore your memories with that thing.” he pointed at the machine. 

“Don't ya think someone should have mentioned to her I was coming?!” Mick shouted in fear.

“Where the hell did you get a gun?” Dean stormed over to you and held out his hand. You took a couple of steps back. Dean stayed where he was and bounced his hand a few times. 

You looked down at his hand. You still had the gun pointed at Mick. “Ha! not happening! Its mine. It was in my nightstand.” 

“I should have known,” Dean said as he shook his hand. “Come on. We aren't gonna let him hurt you.” he started to step closer.

You stepped back and pointed the gun at Dean. He stopped immediately “How do I know that?! How do I know this isn't a big trick?”

“Really (y/n)?” you could see the tears”s in his eyes. “You saw the pictures. You know I wouldn't let him hurt you.”

“Oh yeah? Then how did they take me the first time?” tears started streaming down your face. You felt so betrayed. You trusted these 3 men and they let one of them in here. You didn't know what to think. You were so confused and couldn't remember anything. Before you saw the British guy everything was fine. It's like he triggered something in you, something you couldn't control. You were angry, panicked, and overwhelmed.

Just then you felt Castiel behind you. He quickly put his fingers to your forehead and you passed out. Dean hurried to help Cas catch you, but he didn't need it. “I got her. I can go lay her in her bed?” Dean nodded as he took the gun out of your hand and put it in the back of his jeans. Castiel disappeared with you in his arms.

“Jesus fucking christ!” Mick said. “Seriously why didn't anyone explain the whole situation to her?!” 

Dean shook his head and hurried for the door.

He made it outside before the tears started falling. He leaned up against the Impala, then slowly slid down the side. What the fuck happened?! Was it just Mick being there? Was it a side effect of the mind-wiping? Did she really not believe he would everything in his power to make sure nobody hurt her? “Then how did they take me the first time?” her voice echoed in his head. It was his fault. If he was a little more cautious or a little less cocky maybe he wouldn't have gotten shot. Maybe she would be better off without him, living a normal life. She wouldn't have to run, wouldn't have to fight, she wouldn't have to hunt. He knew he should let you go. It felt like he couldn't breathe, couldn't move, his heart breaking in his chest as the tears fell. 

************************************************************************

Sam blinked and thought about going after Dean. But decided against it. He’ll want to be alone. So he walked into the kitchen to put the food in the fridge for later. He turned around as he closed the fridge finding Mick standing in the doorway.

“So was she freaked before she saw me?” Mick hesitantly asked.

‘No. She was fine. Even joking.” Sam sighed and then explained everything that he witnessed today. “I don't know what happened after she and Dean went upstairs. I don't know anything about the pictures”

“I'm guessing it was me.”

“No. I mean you probably made it worse, but she said the gun was in her nightstand. So she felt threatened enough to carry it downstairs before she even knew you were here.” 

“I have heard of the mind-wiping having a side effect, but I never seen it in myself.

“Is it temporary?.”

“I don't know. All I heard was side effects. Nothing specific. I'll start checking the inventory list for anything about mind wiping.” Mick didn't know what else to do.

“Hey Mick, If she is experiencing side effects would it even be safe to give her memories back?”

“I'm not sure mate.” he hung his head and walked out.

“Son of a bitch!’ Sam said as he threw one of the pots he had used in the sink.

************************************************************************

You awaken to Cas sitting in a chair beside your bed. You didn't say anything just stared at the ceiling of your room, playing back what just happened in your mind. You remembered everything that happened, everything you said, everything you did. But you could not remember what sent you into such a frenzy. You don't even remember being able to stop. The gun wasn't even loaded, but they didn't know that.

“(y/n)?” 

You shut your eyes and stayed silent.

“Come on (y/n). How are you feeling?” You rolled on your side putting your back toward him and you could feel the tears start. “Please don't ignore me.” he pleaded 

“Cas, I just can't right now okay?” you were so ashamed of what had just happened.

“Okay, But I'm gonna sit here until you can.”

“Why? I just acted like a fool and pulled a gun on innocent people. Why would you want to stay with me?” you started crying.

“Because I care about you. No matter what,” he said as he put his hand on your shoulder for comfort

*********************************************************************

He didn't know how long he had been sitting by the impala. Dean just sat there numb. His eyes were on fire, his head pounding. He needed to move, need to get this the fuck over with. He found the will to get up. It was so quiet in the bunk, peaceful chaos. 

“Dean?” Sam yelled from the library

“Yeah.” Dean's voice cracked. He cleared his throat as he walked into the library. “Whatcha doin'? Where is everyone?”

Sam looked up at his brother he could tell Dean had been crying, but he wouldn't dare say anything about it. “ (y/n) and Cas are still upstairs. Mick and I are reading up on mind wipe lore. He just went to the dungeon for something. He told me he had heard some things about it and you know how the men of letters were.” 

“They documented everything.”

“Exactly. So if we can find anything that can help, maybe there's a spell..’

“Sam.”

Sam continued his thought. “ Or if we can get rid of the side effects somehow.”

“Sam!”  Dean spoke a little louder. Sam stopped and looked at his brother.” I think I need to let her go.”

“Dean, but if we find something. Maybe getting her memories back will help..”

“Sam! Memories or no memories, I have to let her go. The British men of letters did this because of me. She almost got killed because of me. Look at all the shit she has been through because of me. Everything she has lost because of me. And it's just gonna keep happening. I have to do the right thing here. His eyes misted over again. God, they stung so bad, but it was nothing compared to the torment in his chest. he started to walk away.

“Dean, Come on…”

“ I don't wanna hear it Sammy!” he said with a raised voice and continued to walk away.

As he entered his old room he laid the gun on the table and then started to pace. The record player caught his eye. He walked over and put the needle on the record. He couldn't even remember what he had last listened to in here. Bad Medicine starts playing and the memories but his birthday from 2 years ago start rushing back.

(y/n) doing a sexy little strip tease, him holding her up against the wall, round 2 on the side table in the library that nobody ever used. He pushed the needle off making a screeching sound.  

He threw himself on his bed. “God I fucking hate this!”

************************************************************************

You must have cried yourself to sleep. You lay there a few minutes just taking in the quiet. You decide it's time. You roll over and see Castiel sitting in the same chair reading a book. “You're still here?” surprise in your voice.

He closed his book. “I told you I would stay until you are ready to talk.”

“What if I'm not ready yet?”

“Then I'll wait.”  

“Whatcha reading?”

“A journal of a former member of the men of letters.”

“Oh yeah? Anything good?”

“Well, he was one of the members that was experimenting with mind wiping”

“Interesting. Why are you reading it?”

“Because Mick told Sam that he had heard there are side effects of the mind wiping. So Mick, Sam, and I are reading into it.”

“So you guys think my psycho moment was from a side effect?”

“Maybe. I do have another theory.”

“Do tell.”

“You have been through a lot in the last 4 days. And yeah you were nervous after I explained everything to you, but any normal human probably would have had a meltdown way before you did. I do have one question though. You seemed ok with me, Sam, and Dean. Why bring the gun downstairs?”

“I found it on my nightstand. I took it down to clean. The damn thing was filthy. Then saw the British guy and I freaked. I can't explain it. It's like fight or fly kicked in and I chose to fight. And I couldn't stop. I have been questioning why I trust the 3 of you as much as I do. No offense. I heard the Brit and freaked out.”

“No offense taken. It would make total sense for you not to trust us. The British guy is Mick. He is the one who called us and told us where you were. And he ran away from the British Men Of Letters to come help us.”

“Do you think he’ll forgive me?”

“Mick? Well yeah, it's more our fault for not telling you he was coming. You were scared.”

You giggled and shook your head. “No. Dean. I pointed a gun at him and pretty much told him it was his fault I got kidnapped. Which is not what I think at all.”

“You were scared and pissed off, you said things you didn't mean. If anyone knows about that, it's Dean. You guys will be fine. We need to get you some food, I can hear your stomach growling from over here.” you gave him a look of dread. “I promise it will be alright. They've been through far worse. Come on.”

You sighed heavily and got up.

You got to Sam's room before you couldn't take the silence anymore. “So did you find anything good in the journal?”

“Interesting good yes, side effect good not yet.”

“But you don't think it was a side effect?”

“Well no, but if there are side effects, we want to know what they are.”

“But when Mick fixes me we won't have to worry about it anymore.”

“Actually, there's something I want to talk to you about.” he paused at the top of the stairs. “ (y/n) You have been through a great deal of pain in your lifetime. The hunting life isn't great. If you wanted..”

You started walking down the stairs “You don't have to give the clean break, no judgment speak. Dean beat you to it.”

“Oh well, I just wanted you to know all your options.”

“Got it Cas.” he looked like a child that just got yelled at. “I'm sorry I'm just hungry.”

His face lifted. “I know I can hear it.”

As you walk into the library you find Sam and Mick. Sam looks up and smiles at you.

Mick looks a bit weary. “Well, Ello Love. Are you armed?”

You give a slight eye roll. “No. I'm sorry..”

Mick cut you off. “No need for apologies. Not the first time a pretty dame pulled a gun on me.” he smiled.  You smiled back and your stomach growled louder than before.

Sam laughed “Hungry?”

“Starving!”

“Come on,” he said getting up.

“Sam I can…” he gave you a stern look “Keep you company while you make the food.”  you gave him a happy smile.

“What a great idea” he beamed sarcastically

You rolled your eyes and followed him. 

“I saved it. So all we have to do is reheat it. “

“Easy Enough.” you looked around. Dean was nowhere to be found, but you didn't want to come off needy so you didn't ask. 

He chuckled “ He is upstairs in his room.”

“Who?” you tried to play it off. 

“(y/n) “Sam said as you put the food in the oven

“Is he still mad at me?”

He turned around a look of surprise on his face. “He was never mad at you. He's worried about you. He blames himself for all the shit you've been through.”

You raised one eyebrow “ How the hell would any of this be his fault?!”

“Mind wipe right. Dean is a protector. If anything happens to anyone on his watch it's his fault. He's been like that as long as I can remember. Plus he thinks being with him is putting you in harm's way.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Sam laughed “This is the last time I'm making this.”

“I said I'll be right back.” you heard him laugh again as you walked out. 

************************************************************************

Cas waited until you and Sam were gone “Have you guys found anything?”

“Nothing yet, but we keep trying yea?”

“Yes! Are we sure she's experiencing side effects though?” 

“Honestly. I have my doubts. The way Sam explained it seemed like she trusted the 3 of you. He said she was even joking a bit, she only freaked out when she saw me. But if that's the case why did she have the gun before she knew I was here?”

They saw you marching your way through the library.

“Carry on Boys,” you said as you continued. Both looking at you in confusion. 

“Well, she looks mad. Should we be concerned?” Cas asked as they both starred after 

“No gun. She's fine.” Mick sniggered 

“Anyway. We did have a conversation about all that. She said she did trust us. She had been asking herself why all day. Said she didn't know she just did.” cas explained.” and she found the gun in her nightstand. Apparently, it was filthy. She brought it down to clean it.”

“Fucking hell. I doubt it was a side effect. She was probably frightened. Some British institute wipes your brain and sends you to your death, you wake up with strangers, and then one of the British cunts shows up here unannounced. I would probably pull a gun too.”

“I agree.”

************************************************************************

Come on. You can do this. You knocked on Dean’s door. 

“Go away Sam!” he yelled.

You rolled your eyes and pushed the door open. “It's not Sam.”

“Hey (y/n) you feeling any better?” 

“Well, I was until your brother told me that you are blaming yourself for this?! For everything?!”

“Fuckin Sam. It is my fault. You said so yourself.”

“Don't you curse Sam! He was just being honest. I know what I said. It was the heat of the moment. I really don't blame you and I do trust you. ”

“If you trust me so much, why did you have the gun in the first place?”

“I took the damn thing down to clean. It’s not even fucking loaded. I was just scared and I didn't want to go back. I'm sorry I pointed it at you.”

He got up and rushed over to the gun. No bullets. “You pointed an unloaded gun at us?”

“Like I just said I was freaking scared, no one else knew it wasn't loaded.”

He started laughing. 

“Did you really think I would shoot you?”

“In these circumstances? Absolutely.”

Just then his phone started ringing. He put it on speaker. “The food is getting cold again.”

“We’ll be right there Sammy.” he hung up the phone

“I'm not done”

He cocked his eyebrow with a grin. “Well go on then.”

“I'm a hunter with or without you. Judging from the pictures on the dresser and my phone I would rather it be with. You can't blame yourself. Sometimes bad shit happens and there's nothing you can do about it.”  you declared

“You Done?”

“Yes!”

He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to him. His lips just inches away from yours. 

“Good! Now Let's go get some food.” he smiled.

[willthewise85]

Sprolden fic master list!

I know many people have trouble finding sprolden fics so here’s a list! I will continue to update when I find/read more! Most of these are one shots so be aware! If you have any more, let me know and I’ll make sure I add them! (Purple=favs!)

Angst

Weeping angel- liverhaver

MICHAEL ANGST AHHHHHHHH

Safe with you- charliestopper

I love them so much it’s sickening

There for you- anonymous

MORE MICHAEL ANGST

Life Is Hard- kelyiar

MICHAEL ANGST HEHEHAHA Tw: suicide

Not the Skater’s Best- Strangling_Figs

This isn’t really Sprolden it’s just PURE MICHAEL ANGST RAHHHHHHHHHHHH

god’s very simple and love shouldn’t burn- Frommybedroom

There’s been no new fics in so long that this is like water in a desert

god, you seriously fucked-up his life tori- eli__writes

I lub them sm

I’ll never drink again- charliestopper

THE MOST HEARTBREAKING SHIT THIS FANDOM HAS EVER PRODUCED!!! Literally everyone ever needs to read this. Tw: alcoholism

Fluff

Lightning in Our Fingertips Today (I Jump Each Time You Touch Me)- lavender_grav3yard

This is for everyone that agreed with me when I said that snow was Sprolden’s thing

Across the tracks- charliestopper

I never thought about Michael not being able to drive bc he’s blind but it makes sm sense

A night for us- charliestopper

Can you tell that I really like charliestopper’s fics?

Her eyes and Words are so icy( oh but she burns)- oceanchild/sofileall

Insomniac!Tori is so real

First kiss and it’s only because I love you- Sprolden

These are technically like a series or smth idrk

Loverboy and hatergirl- fusioon

Yeah they cute what about it

Your Head (and Hair) in my Hands- lost_to_words

Michael says “bloody hell” or smth like that in this and it reminded me how fucking British they are

Green and blue- kore538

Tori and Charlie being THE siblings ever

Matching Costumes- AboveTheFold

Cutie patooties

Post-Cannon

sprolden’s first pride- charliestopper

The tags honestly say it all

A very Sprolden Christmas- otherpeopleareallthereis

“Penny it’s not Christmas time” I DO NOT CARE.

Days better together- writerbitch_letsgooo

I am a hurt/comfort person @ heart

The Aftermath- ForeverBrainrot

I read this and then immediately subscribed bc I need to know the second a new chapter comes out

there's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me- ALilSakuraBlossom

I almost cried reading this ngl

Invisible String- Sprolden

I’m sooooo excited to see where this goes and so happy that the author is back

World Junior Speed Skating Championships- Sprolden

LITERALLY MY FAV FIC EVER OML I LOVE THEM AHHHHHHHHH