#or that at least we had gotten a spin off where we could see what the fuck happened during the time skip

[byfulcrums]

Spitfire could've been so much more if it weren't for the time skip

[deathbxnny]

hey i was wondering if you could do how arcane characters would react to seeing their partner looking really good dressed up?? also i love ur writing!!

Arcane characters reacting to their s/o dressed up really pretty. | Vi, Ekko, Jinx x Gn!Reader

Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you'll enjoy this!!<3

Content: Established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VI

"Ooh... where are we going?" A wide grin rested on her lips as she watched you put on your fancy shoes and straighten out the last details of your pretty attire. "I'm going out with a couple friends." In other words, she was not invited. But Vi couldn't hear you over the sound of her mind spinning with many different thoughts.

Humming, she leaned against a wall next to you, intensely dark eyes staring you down with a glint that made you shake your head in defiance. "No." "Oh come on, Cupcake! Do you really have to go out today? I mean... I can go along. It's dangerous around this time of the night and-" "-Viiii. I can take care of myself." She pouted at your clear disagreement, hardly attempting to even hide how much she loved the way you looked.

"Aw... please? At least let me tag alone so I can show you off to everyone." Typical. And yet, you had a hard time denying her anything when her hands suddenly sneaked around your waist so smoothly. She always got what she wanted out of you in the end. Not that you necessarily minded.

"Fineeee... but keep your hands to yourself around them." You huff out whilst your heart warmed a t the sight of pure excitement on her face. But the slyness in her smirk didn't leave as she gratefully kissed your cheek and let go. "Can't promise you that when you're looking so good, unfortunately... but I'll try. For now."

Rolling your eyes with a smile, you let her happily run off to get ready, glad that she enjoyed your outfit a lot.

》EKKO

He was stunned at the sight of you emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed up so beautifully it left him speechless. The Firelights were having a huge festival in celebration of a recent successful mission, and of course, you were both expected to look your best. And you weren't the type to ever disappoint either.

It was rare to see you dressed up so nicely, the cute outfit being one he had only seen a small couple of times before due to your line of work and life circumstances. But in his mind, you looking so good was a sign of success. He wanted you to be able to dress that way every day, perhaps another motivation of his to continue going.

"How do I look?" You ask, the nervous tone in your voice making his eyes soften even further. "You look great. Who are you trying to impress, hm?" His words were playful as he grabbed your waist carefully. Ekko mirrored the shy smile that crept onto your lips at his question. "A certain someone. I don't think you know him, though." You played along, watching as he raised a brow with an unimpressed smirk.

"Hm... maybe we shouldn't go out then-" "-Oi! Why are you guys taking so long? Let's get going." Scar's voice made you both jump, as he appeared in the doorway and waved you over. A sly smirk crept onto your face as you quickly followed after the man. "Ah, there he is! See ya around, Ekko!" "Hey! I'll remember this-!" Running after you two, he couldn't help but laugh a little.

The festival was going to be great, to say the least.

》JINX

You were just trying out some new clothes you had gotten. Nothing special and definitely not for anyone else's eyes, except for hers. Once you were done, you were quick to hunt down your girlfriend to show her your outfit. "Jinx! How do I look?" You asked, a happy smile on your lips as you now stood next to her, whilst she tinkered away on some projects. Removing her googles, she glanced up at you and blinked in surprise, near speechless for a moment.

Nervously shifting under her intense gaze, you wondered if she didn't like it. "Uhm... should I go change or-" "-You look really good..." She muttered thoughtfully before a large grin crept onto her lips mischievously. "A bit too good! Makes me nearly jealous, pretty. How about you dress me up too so we can match?" You should have honestly seen this coming, as she enjoys doing cute things like that with you.

And so, you did as she asked, whilst she painted your nails to match her own. By the end of it, you looked like you were headed to a fancy event, something she found greatly amusing. Kicking a nearby radio to make it play music, she held out her hand to you with a bright smile. "Alright, let's get this party started!"

[saphiccarma]

Heyyy may I request Rio x reader who are exes and reunite when Rio shows up at the road? Angst that turns into fluff and obv happy ending? Thank you🥺

- Wherever you go I'll follow

Relationships - Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary - Rio had abadoned you after she had to take Agatha's son. It left you with a simmering anger, but you think you would see her again until she, and in turn you, was summoned to the witches road.

Warnings: Some angst

A/N: All the requests I've gotten make me so happy, so I hope I did this one justice. Hope y'all enjoy.

The first thing you heard when you clawed your way out of the ground was surprised shrieks and yells, followed by an amused, slightly psychotic, but familiar laugh. Dread pooled in your stomach. You tore yourself out of the ground with a gasp and brushed the dirt away from your face. Nearly instantly, your eyes locked with a certain witches. Rio had an insane smile on her face, her lips spread wide as she fiddled with her knife.

"Well look who it is," she cooed, her voice taunting and insufferable.

You were not doing this. With a huff, you spun around and started walking away from them. You had seen at least five other people there, but you really could not deal with Rio. Faintly, you heard her gasp in fake shock, her footsteps trailing after you. It wasn't long before she was walking alongside you, her breath warm in her ear as she breathed down your neck.

You could hear her lick her lips, "I've missed you."

Shoving at her, you curled your lips into a snarl, "Fuck off." All that did was draw a laugh out of her, maniacal and insane.

"Only if you watch," she teased, taking absolute pleasure in the way your cheeks heated and you spluttered, "There's the flustered girl I remember, the one who brought me pretty flowers and greeted me with kisses and kept me warm at night."

You scoffed, crossing your arms and continuing to walk forward. Fire crackled inside of you at her words, the small spark igniting after so long. Heart beating frantically in your chest, you tried to gather your thoughts, even as you heard Rio trailing after you with a huff. In all honestly, you had no idea where this place was, with its dark surroundings, looming trees, and vibrant night sky. What a shitty time to be a familiar. The likely scenario was that Rio was summoned, with a formal incantation, and that meant you you were summoned as well. The curses of being a familiar tied to her.

"Sweetheart," she sang song, "We're on the Road. You can't leave."

That made you stop in your tracks, spinning around to face her with furrowed brows. The Road had always been fake, you both knew that.

"We both know that's fake."

The Road was made up by Agatha, a con she created to steal other witches’ powers. Rio let a sly smile cross her face, tongue poking into the side of her cheek. She took a step closer, so her hands were grazing against yours.

"Apparently not," she whispered, linking her fingers with yours. Every fiber of your being wanted to pull back, but for some reason you let Rio pull you closer, her breath ghosting on your lips. Your eyes fluttered as she licked her lips.

A throat was cleared and the two of you sprang apart, your hands burning as if they were on fire. A warm heat spread through your cheeks as you saw Agatha standing there, an unamused eyebrow raised as she stared at the two of you. The rest of what you assumed was her coven stood behind her, with perplexed faces. You cleared your own throat, taking several steps away from Rio.

"We're supposed to walk this thing?" Rio asked, gesturing at the Road. She took off with a skip in her step, knife twirling in her hand. You watched as Agatha scoffed, her coat swishing as she followed, quickly taking lead with her little...pet following.

You hung in the back, your thoughts swirling with so many emotions. Mainly anger. Angry at Rio for abandoning you. All those years ago, ditching you as if you meant nothing, as if you were just a piece of trash. You were born for her, a being created to serve and stand by her side for eternity, tethered to her until the end. But then she left one day, leaving you standing in your small cottage with a bouquet of flowers in your hand with a longing look in your eyes. Rio never came back after that.

Before that you knew she had something going on with Agatha, and you were fine with that, you had to be. You were just her familiar, it's not like the two of you were really anything. You were just born to serve her however she pleased. That didn't stop the sting when she created a child and then left you. Faintly, you heard the rest of the witches muttering about her in front of you. Rio was always the center of attraction.

The teenager pulled back, walking with you, his steps unsure and his eyes curious. You raised a brow and cleared your throat, urging him to speak.

“How come you were summoned? I thought we only summoned a green witch.” he asked, his fingers fiddling with a leather book he held in his hands.

“True,” you agreed, “Have you heard of familiars?” You watched as Rio skipped closer to Agatha, whose anger was so strong you could feel it from here.

He paused for a moment, biting his lip, before he shook his head, “No.”

“They’re people, or creatures, it really depends on the witch, that are tethered to a witch. In my case, I’m tethered to Rio – she’s basically my owner.” The term made a faint blush paint your cheeks.

“Oh.” He said, his hands still fiddling with his book, “So since she was summoned, you were too?

You sighed, “Unfortunately.”

^____________^

The coven sat around a fire, the flames crackling in your face and their warmth spreading around the small circle, sharing battle wounds and stories. It felt familiar, comforting even as you sat the closet, absorbing the warmth it gave off. Agatha had joined not long after the conversation had started, reporting that Teen would be fine after all. Rio twirled a flower in her hand as she side-eyed Agatha who sat next to her. A pang of jealousy hit you at Agatha's proximity to Rio.

"I have a scar." Rio said suddenly, her gaze focused on the fire.

"No, you don't," Agatha scoffed.

"Yes. I do." Rio insisted, her gaze flickering towards Agatha, "A long time ago, I loved someone," and even though her eyes meant yours, you knew she wasn't talking about you, "and I had to do something I did not want to do. Even though it was my job." She cast a pointed look at Agatha and swallowed thickly, her hands stilling from their fidgeting with the flower, "She is my scar."

You felt jealousy boil in your stomach as Agatha stood, Rio following her. Rio was meant to be yours; you were born for her. The rest of the coven sat awkwardly around the fire, their eyes following Agatha and Rio. The pain cut deep at the sight of them walking off together. Clenching your hands, you sucked in a sharp breath as you watched them disappear around a bend, Rio's hands reaching for Agatha.

I've missed you. Did she really miss you though? Based on her apparent attraction to Agatha, she didn't miss you at all, her heart lied elsewhere. It no longer lied with you and you wondered if it ever did. Rio could have just stuck with you because she was obligated to. You were nothing more than a pawn, a tool to make her job easier. Guiding angered souls, the ones who were so reluctant to go they managed to stay with their body, was your job. It took one more thing off of Rio's plate.

"Do you have any scars Y/N?" Alice asked, dabbing some of Jen's homemade perfume on her wrists.

You thought for a moment, trying to think of one, before a very specific one popped into your mind. It was probably your only one. You rolled the sleeve of your shirt up to your elbow, revealing your forearm to the group, the fire illuminating it. A fading R was carved into your skin. Despite what some might believe, Rio didn't carve it into you, even if she wished she did.

"I was born with it," you said quietly, "A symbol of who I belong to."

Your statement was meant with a stunned silence, the rest unsure of what to say to that. Rolling your sleeve back down, you awkwardly stood, mumbling some excuse about needing to stretch your legs. You walked off in the opposite direction that Agatha and Rio went. The forest provided some sort of comfort, with its dark atmosphere and large trees. You settled beneath one, your back pressing against the harsh bark, and you made a little flame come alive in your hand.

You weren't a fire witch, per say, but you could control fire. Some people say fire as danger, something to be avoided lest you get burned. And you agreed, fire was dangerous and shouldn't be played with. However, if treated right, it could provide warmth, a light in the darkness. Rio had learned how to treat fire like that, but she always played. Rio always played. Her words would be taunting and teasing, making the fire inside you flare up, but other days, she was soft. That's when the fire crackled with content inside.

Playing with the fire, you let it hop from hand to hand, the little ball burning with passion. It was a struggle to keep a small with all the emotions swirling inside of you, but the fear of burning down the forest was stronger. There was a certain comfort to playing with the fire, the warmth on your fingertips. Being away from Rio had dimmed your powers, draining them slowly, but now that you had returned, they were becoming stronger again. That was one thing you had always hated about this gift. It became a curse when you were tethered to someone you hated.

"Playing with fire again I see."

Your head snapped up at the teasing tone, your faint smile being replaced by a scowl. Rio was twirling her flower in one hand, the pink, a vibrant contrast against the dark forest, her other hand settled on the hilt of her knife that was strapped to her thigh. The fire in your hand flared up, the flames licking your face before you put it out with a flick of your wrist. Skipping over, Rio plopped down right next to you, her front facing you. Ever so slowly, Rio slid the flower into your hair, disregarding your flinch and sharp inhale. She smiled happily once it was settled into your hair.

"There's my pretty pet," she whispered, and you searched for the usual teasing tilt in her voice, but there was none. Just pure adoration, which had to be a trick because Rio never adored you. She only used you.

You flinched at the nickname, "I'm not your pet," you spat.

"The mark on your arm says otherwise," The Green Witch rolled her eyes, "You've always been my pet."

The words cut deep inside you, reminding you that you had always belonged to her. Even when she left you. You were meant to be hers, whether you liked it or not - you were tethered to Death for eternity. If you somehow died, Rio would still be able to keep you.

"You left me," you snarled, "I'm not your pet."

Rio blinked harshly, pulling back a little. It was only then that you noticed how close she had gotten.

"I never wanted to leave my love," she said softly, in a tone that was only ever reserved for you, "But duty called and I had no choice."

You scoffed, "What duty? You mean fucking Agatha?"

Rio laughed at your bold statement, throwing her head back with a maniacal cackle. It did nothing to soothe your worries and the growing fire inside you. But it did give you a view of her neck, the one you would bury yourself in after long days, the one you would kiss and bite and love.

"I did fuck her," Rio agreed, "But that's the past. You've always been my favorite, darling. I never wanted to leave you, never."

You flinched away when her hand came close, wrapping around the back of your neck. She pulled you close, her touch rough and soft. Her lips were inches away from yours and you smell her earthly smell.

"I hate you."

Rio smiled, "I know."

She crashed her lips onto yours, she tasted like flowers and the earth. A part of you wanted to pull away, but the feeling of her lips on yours, her hand pulling at your hair, and her tongue entering your mouth, it made the fire in your stomach flare with pleasure. You whimpered softly as her tongue explored your mouth for the first time in centuries.

You pulled away from her, panting ever so slightly, "You can't kiss your way out of this."

"Can't I?" Rio smirked, moving to crash her lips back onto yours.

"No," you pushed her away, "I'm still mad at you."

Rio laughed, throwing her head back before leaning in close, her breath ghosting against your earlobe as she whispered, "Are you?"

When she first kissed you, you thought that was what you had wanted, even if you wanted to pull away, but you know that's not it. You want to be close to her, but not in a sexual way. You wanted to hold her like you used to - for it to be like it used to.

"I want to hold you," you whispered, "I've missed you."

Death's lips pursed, her eyes flickering away before she softly muttered, "Alright."

The two of you shuffled to lay beneath the tree, your arms spooning Rio as she curled into you, her back pressed against your front. You made your entire body warm to contrast the cold of her skin and the air. Rio let out a content hum, burrowing even further into you. You held her tight and pressed a soft kiss on her temple.

"I missed you," you whispered.

"I missed you too," Rio twisted her head and planted a soft kiss on your lips, her touch gentle and sweet.

You let sleep take you away with Deaht wrapped tight in your arms.

[tunastime]

The Little Things

happy birthday @shepscapades!! you've known about this fic for a little bit, but we talked about how long DBHC Etho's hair had gotten and I really couldn't help myself LOL. I hope you have a great birthday <333

Behind his shoulder, Etho twists a particularly long strand of hair around his finger as they unpack, fidgeting in a way that almost seems anxious. He drags his hand back after a moment, flattening his hair against his neck, combing through absently as he sorts through their collected items and puts them in proper order. Bdubs watches him fidget for a long moment. The thoughts in his head bounce around like loose marbles. Or, Bdubs braids Etho's hair. Etho lets him.

(1506 words)

“Etho.”

Bdubs is staring at the back of Etho’s neck as they walk a short single file through the dark oak trees. Etho holds a steady grip on the hilt of the sword at his hip, head shifting back and forth as they walk together, like they were tethered by an invisible string. He can see the faint glow of his LED in the dappled, midday light. Etho makes a small, confirming sound, but doesn’t look behind him.

“Your hair’s gotten long.”

“Mhh,” Etho hums again—some approximation of pushing out air. He reaches back, combing through the near neck-length hair. “I’m letting it get long. Thought it might be a nice change.”

“‘S it bothering you?” Bdubs asks. Etho shakes his head, glancing back to look at him.

“Keeps getting in my eyes, but otherwise I was just too lazy to cut it.”

Bdubs snorts. 

“Typical.”

Etho shoots him a look, but his mouth is curved into a smile—one where he’s trying to stifle it, so his teeth aren’t showing, but he really wants to grin. All visible too since his mask is tucked under his chin. The motion pulls at the off-white scar down his face. 

“So mean,” he scoffs. “After everything I do for you, Bdubs!”

“Yeah, right,” Bdubs says, thumping his shoulder with the back of his hand. “And you’re bein’ dramatic.”

Etho sticks his tongue out at him, but doesn’t argue any further. Bdubs almost socks him again for that, but Etho giggles enough to get him to start laughing, and by the time he’s even considered it again, their base has come into view. Well—what some would call a stack of deepslate that looked like fort walls. Kind of. It was something at least, even if it wasn’t all that pretty. He can see the peek of Tango’s head over the wall, just a smudge of gold against the backdrop. He must be moving their chests around to keep building, because there’s no way their walls were as short as Tango. 

They both pick their way toward the base just as Tango’s head disappears. By the time their cajoling and banter is within earshot, Tango’s standing outside the front of their base, eyebrows raised.

“You two sure make a lot of noise,” he complains, folding his arms. “I swear I could hear you from across the river.”

Bdubs snorts.

“Blame Etho for that one,” he grumbles, pushing past the two of them. He hears Tango snort as he starts giggling, and Etho makes a particularly pathetic sound in retaliation.

“Bdubs started it,” he complains, dragging himself after Bdubs and into the base proper. Tango twists around to follow them both, trailing after as Bdubs lingers near the doorway. 

“Did you two at least bring back somethin’ to eat?”

“You bet your buns we did,” Bdubs snorts. He drops to sit beside his bag, fiddling until the clasps come undone. There, he reaches in, and hands Tango a chunk of entirely unprocessed redstone. When Tango twists it this way and that, it catches the light in a surprisingly interesting way. He watches Tango’s face scrunch for a moment, LED spinning a light blue ring as he thinks over the stone in his hands. Luckily he hasn’t noticed that there are a few prominent sets of teeth marks in the bottom half. 

Can’t blame a guy for getting hungry. 

Tango nods, seemingly satisfied.

Behind his shoulder, Etho twists a particularly long strand of hair around his finger as they unpack, fidgeting in a way that almost seems anxious. He drags his hand back after a moment, flattening his hair against his neck, combing through absently as he sorts through their collected items and puts them in proper order.

Bdubs watches him fidget for a long moment. The thoughts in his head bounce around like loose marbles.

Tango moves around them both and back to the place where he was moving cots and chests around. He backs himself against a particularly large double chest and shoves it sideways across the grass. Etho continues to quietly stack items into a chest. With his bag now empty, Bdubs picks himself up, and scoops up his bag. At the front door, he slings his newly sharpened axe over his shoulder.

Might as well get some wood while the day was still light.

At the fire, sleep tugging at the edge of his consciousness, Bdubs casts a tired glance over to Etho. He’s shrugged free from his coat, now draped over his knees as he sits at Bdubs’ left, leaning almost into his space. From this angle, Bdubs can see how Etho’s hair lies flat over the back of his neck, curls over the side of his face in frizzy strands. He reaches up almost absently to comb his fingers through it. Etho makes a small, startled noise. He raises his shoulders, but he’s not able to resist the tiny, pleased expression that slides onto his face as Bdubs keeps his hand on the back of his skull. He may not like the teasing, but the idea of Bdubs petting through his hair certainly seems to make him happy.

Which is why Bdubs sighs through his nose and draws his hand away.

“Etho,” Bdubs says, exasperation slipping into his tone unbidden. “C’mere and let me help you.”

“It’s fine,” Etho tries, more in discomfort than annoyance.

“Etho—” Bdubs argues. He pats the ground in front of him, legs splayed. Etho looks him up and down for a long moment, LED spinning, calculating. 

“What’re you gonna do?” he asks.

“‘M not gonna cut it,” Bdubs sighs. “Just trust me, alright?”

Etho makes a noise halfway between a groan and a hum. He finally sinks to the ground beside Bdubs’ knee. Twisting around to put him between his legs, Bdubs shuffles forward on the grass. Between Etho and the fire in front of him, the air around them is warm, filled with the slight mechanical hum from Etho in front of him, the snap of the fire. Bdubs leans forward for a moment, resting his forehead against the nape of Etho’s neck. Etho laughs, one hand coming back to squeeze his knee.

“What,” he teases. “Was this your ulterior motive?”

“No,” Bdubs startles, peeling himself away. “No it wasn’t. This was just a nice moment.”

Etho giggles, squeezing his knee again. He draws his hand down Bdubs’ shin and to his ankle, where he keeps it there.

Carefully, Bdubs combs his fingers through Etho’s hair. It’s not any different than usual, besides the length. He keeps relatively good care of it, the ends are fine, it’s short enough not to reliably knot. Sifting his fingers through takes little effort on Bdubs’ part as he easily separates three sections out, twisting the hair between his fingers as he braids. Etho slumps forward a bit, shoulders rounding out, the base of his spine and lower ribs pressed into Bdubs’ space.

“I learned how to do this a long time ago,” Bdubs says absently as he works. He watches Etho’s LED spin again, and takes that as a sign that he’s still paying attention. “Had’ta use ropes since I didn’t know anyone with hair long enough to actually practice on. It’s easy to do a simple one when you’ve got the hang’ve it, though.”

“Are you expecting me to not ask you for help when I need it?” Etho says, amusement slipping into his tone. Bdubs pokes the back of his neck.

“I’m just sayin’,” he grumbles. “You don’t have’ta learn, I’m just tellin’ a story. Jeez, Etho.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Etho placates, still giggling. “Maybe I’ll learn as long as you teach me.”

Bdubs huffs out a laugh.

“Maybe,” he parrots. He curls his hair into the last section of the small, tight braid, hoping that force alone will keep it together just for a bit. As he lets go, Etho’s hand comes back to feel out the braid, smoothing the rest of his hair back behind his ears. With most of it tucked back, only the tufts of hair in the front spill into his eyes. When he turns back to Bdubs, a soft smile tugs at his face. Bdubs reaches on instinct to push his hair back, dragging his hand down his cheek as he pulls away. He pretends not to notice that Etho’s ears have gone slightly blue as he turns away from him.

“You like it?” Bdubs asks, voice coming uncharacteristically soft. Etho nods silently. “Good.”

Bdubs leans forward into Etho’s space, then, tucking himself against the strong curve of his back. He can feel, ever so slightly, the hum of his thirium pump, the heat that he gives off from all the moving equipment inside his chest. There, he lets out a soft sigh. Etho squeezes his ankle.

“You let me know if you need me to do it again, alright?” Bdubs asks. Etho lets out a long breath of air.

“I will,” he says, voice crackling ever so.

Good, Bdubs thinks. He likes the sound of that.

[lemonade4wanda]

Sleepless nights

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - you go on a routine mission which ends badly how will your girlfriend react

Warnings - gunshots, violence, bullet wounds, mention of stitches, likely medically incorrect, blood, hospital? Not proofread

word count - 1.5k

A/n - I dont know what happened while writing this its all a blackout. As always any feedback is rlly appreciated!!!

It was just supposed to be another simple routine mission. Over and done with in a matter of hours. But of course nothing was ever as easy as predicted.

It had all been going with relative ease until you and Clint were fighting off agents left and right. Something you were usually both good at. However where you'd found yourselves was very much enclosed meaning you couldn't run and you had no idea how many or where these agents were coming from. Your backs were against each other as you moved in circular motions around the room.

"You did this you know, everything was going just fine until you said 'wow this mission has been quite the breeze.'" You mimick Clints earlier words in a squeaky high pitched voice while taking out a couple agents. "Couldn't have just waited till we were on the quinjet could you?"

"Look I really thought it was over. At least I wasn't the one who knocked over the vase alerting everyone in the Tri-state area of our location." He pipes back as you both fall into the usual bickering banter you often did, squabbling like small children. You and Clint had always been close and worked well with each other despite the constant pecking at each other. You'd become even closer once you'd gotten together with his best friend Natasha. Well, after he stopped threatening you about breaking her heart that is.

"Okay well atleast I'm not stupid."

"Yeah real mature. What does that even mean?" He retorts back with a chuckle at how quickly you begin to lose an argument and just throw childish insults at him.

"I thought you'd be smart enough to understand a simple senten-.." You trail off as you see an agent aiming at Clint, one he hadn't noticed. Though you considered letting the agent hit him and getting to be considered the better fighter it wasn't worth letting your friend die just to one up him.

"Clint watch out." You yell frantically as you watch the agent take aim. Clint wasn't going to have time to move. You panicked and shoved him to the floor knocking him from the bullet.

You don't think much of it when you don't see the bullet land or even when you vision blurs. It's only you notice somethings up when you see a blood splattering on your hand. Instinctively you look for Clint worried something hit him but you find him staring right back at you. That's when you feel the searing pain from your hip. Placing a hand over it to find out what's wrong, you feel a cold and wet substance spilling from it.

Thats when everything starts spinning. Moving too quick but not fast enough at all. The pain feeling worse, like nothing you've ever felt before as the adrenaline wears off and the severity of the situation sets in.

"Y/n look at me." Clints voice is grounding and calm making you briefly feel better. "There's no agents left okay. We're going to walk together to the quinjet, don't rush yourself it's going to be okay." You nod along even though your unsure you'll be able to walk that far as your vision fades in and on like a flickering TV.

He moves over to you and presses your hand firmly over the wound. "Keep your hand there and apply as much pressure as you can." Despite the way you stumble around as you try to apply any pressure at all to the wound he still sounds calm like he believes you can do this.

His hand hooks around you helping hold you up as the two of you begin a slow walk back. Things aren't looking too bad at first I mean sure you can hardly see infront of you an everytime you open your mouth to speak the only thing that sounds is a groan of pain but your managing it, you feel yourself believe you'll be able to do this walk back.

That is all before you trip over a stone which sends you tumbling onto your front, directly where the bullet wound is is where you hit the hardest when you fall causing you to scream out in pain with a noise you never knew you'd make. Clint immediately tries to pull you back to your feet while telling you how close you are to getting home but it's no use as your body goes stiff, legs refusing to move.

"Natasha is gonna kill me." I mumble half heartedly as he holds me up and my vision fades for what I believe might be the final time.

"Not if she kills me first." He chuckles and that's the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

Two days. Two whole days they said you were out for. You missed two days. Two days where you didn't see Natasha but she saw you, she sat by you every minute she could and when she couldn't sit anymore she slept by you not leaving for a second. She wouldn't even leave your hospital room for food. Clint having to practically force food down her throat so she didn't end up in a hospital bed alongside you.

You blinked awake. You'd been awake about an hour prior but were too drugged up to process anything going on and had quickly fallen back into your slumber. This time you were much more determined to stay awake, that and your pain medication was wearing off and you could begin to feel a sharp pain replacing the previously dull one.

As you woke yourself up to the bright white fluorescent lights of the hospital, those lights which practically felt blinding. Giving you little time to adjust to being awake, Natasha started speaking.

"So what happened?" She sounded angry. A little rough maybe as the Russian tinged her accent slightly in a way you only heard few times. As you located where her voice had come from, a small chair just to the left of your bed. Now that you could see her she seemed more worn out or stressed out the angry. Dark circles lurked under her eyes as her forhead creased showing visible lines.

"Uh.. didn't uhm.. Clint... tell you." You slowly mumble out as you try to push myself into a sitting position but before you can Natasha is up and pushing you back down to lie down.

"The doctor said you can't sit up yet or you'll move the stitches. And no he hasn't explained anything, so you better." She lays your head back on the pillow with such a contrasting softness to the way she's speaking which is almost as if she's interrogating you.

You roll your head over the side to face her as you recount what you remember from the mission. "So basically me and Clint, well especially me are kicking ass knocking these agents to the ground. But then one aims at Clint and I push him out the way and now we're here." You explain the best you can but it's just so difficult when your heads all fuzzy and until five minutes ago you were convinced you were dead. "I thought I was gonna die 'Tasha."

"You shouldn't put yourself at risk like that baby." She says while brushing stray hairs away from your face and back behind your ears. "Things could have been a lot worse.." her voice trails off all usual roughness gone as she appears as if she may break down crying at any second. "I could have lost you."

That's all it takes for you to start crying as hot tears stream your face making it hard to see anything. Seeing your deteriorating emotional state Natasha makes the descion to crawl into the bed next to you. "Oh hush now, it's alright. I was just worried about you lyubov." she coos while leaning over to kiss your dampened cheek.

"I know I know.. I'm just really sorry... I dont ever want to lose you Natasha." Your tears keep falling despite her soft, reassuring words.

"Y/n, I don't want to lose you either. Which is why I think it could be time we retired before either of us do. Of course it's up to you though, I won't pressure you."

It takes you a minute to process her words but when you do your glad for them. You'd been considering at least cutting down your workload recently but hadn't considered Natasha would be open to retirement at such a young age. You can feel your face break out into a small smile as she suggests it herself. Her own face is one of nervous apprehension as she chews on her lip.

"Yes. Please I want nothing more than to retire and with you." You reach in to kiss her face eagerly. Your lips smothering hers in an almost desperate fashion as if you were worried it could be your last.

"If this is what retirement is like I cant wait." She whispers as she pulls away from your lips, nipping them gently first. She cups your face in her hands before leaning back in.

[feyhunter78]

Final Chapter - You have wed and the guests have gone, but the Dragon Queen has stayed. Perhaps it is time to visit Dorne.

NSFW content below the cut

The Dragon Queen remains a guest of The Rock, moons after the other attendees have returned home. It is not unpleasant, but you find yourself on edge around her. She has been nothing but polite, kind even but Jon’s words ring in your head. How many times will he be asked to break his oath? How many times can House Lannister change sides until they are no longer trusted? King Stannis was stern yes, and dour, but he was not cruel, not like Joffrey or the stories you heard of the Mad King.

And Jon, gods above Jon distrusts her all the more. For it was her brother that stole his mother away, her father who burned his uncle and grandsire alive. He is polite as well, but avoids her. It is subtle, mostly, though there are times Jon will simply leave a room when Daenerys enters, Ghost trotting behind him. This leaves you torn between staying to make excuses on his behalf, or fleeing as well to soothe Jon’s storm of emotions.

You have yet to see the dragons, yet to hear them, and you are quite sure you would rather it stays that way, the tales you have been regaled with are terrifying enough. Though your father, who had loved dragons since he was a child, swore to you, they were in the vicinity, camped out on an island nearby. They could stay there, their mother could join them, you wanted no part in this, not when you had finally gotten all you desired.

You find Jon hunched over his writing desk, quill in hand, inkwell closed, the parchment blank before him. He has done this many times, and you are never quite sure what or who he is intending to write.

“You know, usually one must first wet the quill before attempting to write.” You say, as you lean against the desk, and remove the inkwell’s stopper.

He sets down his quill and sighs, pushing his chair away from the desk, his head falling back, his neck extended and exposed. “I was not truly going to write anything, I simply…” He cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair.

“I know this has been difficult for you, perhaps we should visit your father in Starfell, put some distance between us and whatever fresh torture is brewing amongst the lords?” You suggest, replacing the stopper and putting away his quill.

Jon grabs your hand and brings it to his lips, his grown-out stubble tickles your skin. “Could we even do that? Would it be right?”

You slide between him and the desk to seat yourself in his lap, looping your arms around his neck. “What is right can be subjective at times.”

He gives you a confused look, his handsome face tanned from his time in the sun, his curls luxurious and scented with oils from Dorne. His broad chest well-fitted in fabrics you purposely did not tell him the price of, because you knew he would refuse to wear them on principle. He has thrived at The Rock, and satisfaction purrs within you at the sight.

“In the eyes of the realm it would not be right, you and I, together before your parentage was revealed, but it was right to us—or at least to me, I know you struggled with the idea.”

Jon’s hands settle on your waist as he listens intently, always so intently.

“If we had done what the realm thought was right, you and I would not be, and I cannot fathom a world where you and I apart is correct. So maybe it is wrong to leave, maybe it is not, all I care about is if I am with you, wrong or right.”

He kisses you gently, a brief fleeting thing, but no less filled with affection than his searing, lingering ones. “We could go, for a while, not too long, just a visit.”

You return the kiss, hands cradling his face, lifting it up towards you. “Not too long, not too short, we shall stay as long as you desire, Husband.”

He hums contentedly, pulling you closer, his lips against yours a slow languid movement, sweet and unhurried, caresses of unspoken affection and whispered promises.

Your head spins when you pull away for air, and Jon’s lips chase after yours, aching to recapture them as his hands begin to ghost over your sides, fingertips counting each inhale and exhale.

“Promise me we will do this in Starfell.” He says, his chest rising and falling as he catches his own breath.

“We shall do this and more if it pleases you.” You promise him, heart skipping a beat when his eyes darken.

A wolfish smile appears on his kiss swollen lips. “Aye, it would.”

Your back is cushioned by a mountain of pillows, all swathed in fabrics of red and orange, a golden stringed tassel caught in your grip as you dig your nails into a nearby pillow, desperately taking in air. “Jon, oh gods—”

He does not respond, his dark curls, his shoulders and strong arms are the only parts of him you can see. His arms are wrapped around your thighs, keeping you open and still, unable to squirm away as he devours you. His wondrous mouth on you, his tongue making you see stars, his fingers digging into your skin so tight you know there will be bruises, but you care not.

He nips at your inner thigh before wrapping his lips around your bud, his tongue moving in some nonsensical way that sends a bolt of lightning through you. Sparks of lust flying from your skin, a desperate yearning building within you again.

The sun is still high in the sky, streaming in through the large window, the scent of Orange Blossoms drifting on the breeze, accented voices and hurried footsteps come from below, but you pay no mind, and neither does Jon. His movements are unhurried, indulgent, groans of pleasure vibrating against your folds.

He is bare from the waist up, shoulders and back are marred with nail marks, your nail marks, reddened lines and half-moons. You tangle your free hand in his hair, yanking him impossibly closer, urging him to move faster, to release one of your thighs and coax your second release forward with his skilled fingers.

“So impatient.” He chuckles, lifting his head, his lips shiny with your arousal, as he does just what you desired, two long fingers slipping in with ease, stroking and curling until pleasure seizes you, driving all thought from your mind.

You whine in response, tugging harder on his curls. A flicker of pride going through you at the way Jon’s hips roll against the bed, a groan escaping him.

Jon returns to your core, tip of his tongue tracing shapes and symbols on your bud as his fingers coax you higher and higher. He slips in a third, and your walls clench around him, your breath catching in your throat.

Gods you want him to ravish you, to tear your flimsy Dornish gown from your body and pound into you until there is an imprint of your body in the pillows.

Then you shatter, coming undone into his strong grip, breathless and shaking, as you push up on your elbows to see Jon still desperate. His eyes meeting yours as he ruts against the bed, his head dropping forward, his forehead resting against your thigh, panting heavily as he finishes.

You lay there spent as he joins you on the bed, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “We have dinner with my father soon.”

“I am sure he does not mind waiting.” You smile, pulling him back in with a leg hooked around his hips.

A cry from the chamber next to yours sends you both sitting up in bed, the night dark, the moon a mere sliver amongst the clouds.

You arise first, wrapping a robe around yourself and trudging sleepily into the nursery. Lyon, your son, with his thick dark curls and vibrant green eyes, is wide awake, kicking up a fuss in his bassinet. Leaning down, you scoop him up, and hold him close to your chest, shushing him gently.

Jon joins you soon, wrapping his arms around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder. “He is surely a lion with a cry like that.”

“I think he is more a wolf with all his howling.” You jest softly, stroking Lyon’s cheek.

He is beautiful, a perfect mixture of you and Jon, born in Starfell, while a third revolt took place in the rest of the kingdoms. Daenerys sat on the throne, your father, her hand. She had sent gifts, your father had come himself with them and dozens of his own gifts, with the contingency that you would receive the rest upon your return home. You would go soon, take your place within The Rock. To ensure your son would be as fine a Lannister as any could be, to begin to seek out an advantageous bride for him, and give him a sibling or three to play with. But for now, the realm could wait.

Jon TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo, @legolastheleafyelf, @faerie-film, @wifiatthetrainstation, @duskypinki, @tartine-de-pain, @rebeccawinters, @taylorsfemalerage, @rax-raxus, @certainwonderlandperfection, @nymeriiiia, @burkgolden, @drewsivy

[persephone-writes]

A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter Twenty: And Then There Was You

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter Nineteen - Chapter Twenty-One ☆ Series Masterlist

Description: You learn more about James's former pining, realizing there is less to fear than you initially thought.

Word Count: 5.6k

Notes: Chapter twenty, woop woop! Did not think this fic would ever get this long, but here we are! Thank you all so much for sticking with me so far <3

Three fifteen in the afternoon couldn’t come soon enough. 

It was overcast, though the weather was warming ever so slowly as spring deepened. You were loitering near the wall boarding the vegetable path, the one you once sat against, crying in the rain after your fight with James. You had almost forgotten about it until now, the memory feeling like old news, as if it had happened years ago. So much had gone on since, so much to replace it. You hadn’t known it then, caught up in the idea that there was no way James could ever like you, but you each had nearly stumbled upon the other's secret. You had missed it by a hair, blinded by your insecurity, him by his immaturity. You knew now that he had been telling the truth, that he was worried you would be embarrassed, that through Mulciber’s words too much of himself would be given away, tainting an otherwise flowering friendship. 

“I think I thought it’d embarrass you, or make you uncomfortable. I know I should’ve just gotten over it, but…”

“You thought I’d be embarrassed. Give me a break.”

“Yeah, I did. And then after what you said last night—”

“Last night you acted like a child.” 

“I don’t know why I said that.” 

You shook the thought from your head, turning towards the grass, bright and emerald even under the clouds. The bell tower rang, marking the end of the period. Right now Slughorn was watching his class pack up their things, his wand waving in the air to clean the cauldrons as James hurried out. You leaned against the wall, your arms crossed as you impatiently waited for him to arrive, your fingers buzzing. 

Five minutes later you heard a noise, a small rustle of the grass in the distance. You searched but found no one there, only a stray squirrel scurrying across the lawn. Just as you wrote it off it happened again, the sound distinctly footsteps through the grass. You perked up, kicking off the wall as you reached for your wand. 

“Psst!”

You whipped your wand from your pocket, spinning around to try and pinpoint where the voice had come from. “Hello?”

“It's me!”

You jumped, the sound coming right from behind you. You swung your arm to point your wand, though your hand hit something hard…and invisible. You dropped your hand, now more annoyed than anything. 

“James,” you gritted, your eyes hard as you started into the empty space.

“Sorry, babe. Just taking precautions.” You could practically hear his smile, charming even if you couldn’t see it. 

“I don’t think Lily will see us here, or anyone else, for that matter,” you whispered, your expression having softened. It was sweet, you realized, even if he was a bit ridiculous.

“It’s not just that. Mulciber could be hanging around, or that slime ball.”

“Slime ball?”

“He did try to poison you,” he argued. 

“Why couldn’t we have gone to the RoR?” you asked, your eyes bouncing around, hoping you were landing somewhere near his face.

“They know where it is. Can’t have Sirius barging in,” he said, continuing before you could counter, “C’mon, lets go.”

“Where?”

“Over past the hill. You’d have to be at least on the sixth floor to see over it, and even then, you’d never be able to tell it was us.”

“All right,” you said, warily. “Just don’t let me bump into you.” 

You walked out farther from the castle, stopping once you were over the hill as you waited for him to take off the cloak. 

In a moment James pulled the cloak from himself, his hair mused and glasses crooked. He straightened them, loosening his tie before he balled up the cloak, shoving it into his charmed pocket. 

“Everyone had charmed pockets but me,” you said with a frown.

“It’s illegal, y’know,” he teased, plopping down onto the grass. “Wouldn’t want you getting in trouble.”

His smile was like the sun as he looked up at you, his head motioning towards the spot beside him. As soon as you sat, shaking your head as you went to argue, you were cut short. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you down so he could look into your eyes. It was like he was dipping you, reminding you of all the times you’ve danced, how he always seemed to find a way to get you to succumb to his pleas. You smiled, practically beaming as he held you. 

“I’ve never told you before, because I couldn’t,” you began, forcing yourself out of old habits of biting your tongue, “but I always liked when you danced with me.”

“Yeah?” he said, his hand moving up your arm and over your shoulder mindlessly. “Where’d this come from?”

“I don’t know,” you lied. It still felt odd to say such things to him, as if you had a reason to be embarrassed. I’m his girl, you recalled. I’m his and he’s mine. “I was just thinking about all the things I wanted to tell you before, but didn’t.”

His hand stopped moving, settling on your elbow. “I have a million of those.” 

You propped yourself up, the grass tickling your ankles as you grew nearer. With an unusual burst of confidence, you brushed your nose against his, smirking as you felt his breath catch in his throat. In a split second he leaned forward, pulling you into his chest, your lips meeting, smooth like the small waves of the Black Lake lapping against the shore. Still, you had a million questions to ask, years worth of moments that needed revisiting. As you pulled away he brushed the side of your face, staring into your eyes. 

“Tell me one,” you said, your faces still close. When he didn’t answer, your smirk grew playful, more like his than yours. “I told you one, it’s only fair.”

“That's not true. I told you one yesterday, about when you asked to do your project on Sleekeazy's.” 

“It’s still your turn,” you challenged, watching as he caved to your will, his head lulling to the side. 

He picked his head back up, his hand burning up where it still stroked your temple. “Old or new?”

“Dealer's choice.”

His eyes turned up towards the sky as he thought, the clouds reflected in his glasses. “Remember when Padfoot locked himself into Myrtle's bathroom?” 

“Of course,” you laughed. “That was one of the best days of my life.”

This September they had been planning a prank in which they would somehow herd Severus into Myrtle's bathroom, only to have the door lock behind him with a particularly effective charm. It had taken days to perfect the spell and a great degree of careful planning to figure out how they were going to accomplish the feat, only for the door to close by accident, Sirius inside. Remus eventually broke him out, though Sirius was stuck for hours, forced to listen to Myrtle's endless whining and flirtatious advances. 

“When we were all huddled around the door listening to him bitch, we were right next to each other and I put my arm around your shoulder. I felt pretty sly at the time,” as he spoke he grew more and more smug, looking at you as if he had won some imaginary game with rules only he knew. 

You hit his arm, scowling at him without really meaning it. “Really?”

“Yes, and now it’s your turn. Diviner’s choice.”

“Very clever,” you droned, though you were unable to bite back your smile, peeking out on the corner of your lips. You thought about it for a moment, though you already knew what you were going to say. “That very corny speech you gave in the RoR to try and cheer me up. It’s like you were trying to kill me.”

He laughed, calm in a way you almost never were. “Now you know what it’s like looking at you everyday. You’re lucky I haven’t gotten up onto the table in the Great Hall to serenade you.”

“Please don’t,” you begged, dropping your forehead onto his shoulder. You felt him vibrate as he laughed more, his hand forcing your head up again. 

“I won’t, I promise,” he said, his head tilting as he looked across your face. His eyes softened, his smile dropping into something saccharine, sickening if you weren’t in love. “I’m so mad for you, Y/N, you don’t even know.”

You wondered how you could take it, listening to him speak to you this way without letting yourself slip up in public, knowing how he felt without ever being able to show it. You leaned in to kiss him again, your fingers in his hair, suspended by the feeling of him against you. With every beat of your heart you heard his voice, fluttering through the air like petals. You don’t even know, you don’t even know, you don’t even know.

 ─────────•°•❀•°•─────────

“What is up with you lately?”

You jumped, your head shooting to look at Marlene. The dungeons were dimly lit, just enough to shine against her blonde hair. She was staring at you with narrowed eyes, her arms propped on her knees as you both sat on the staircase, waiting for Lily to finish speaking with Professor Slughorn in his office. Why she couldn’t wait until she had his class, you and Marlene could never say. 

“Nothing,” you said, tensing up when she cocked her head, her mouth moving to the side as he considered you. “Really.”

“You’ve been spacey, more than usual,” she said plainly, raising her brows. 

You clenched your jaw, too nervous to comment on her characterization of you, which any other time you would’ve found mildly insulting. “I’m just stressed about the N.E.W.T.s.”

You had been studying more lately, spending much of Wednesday going over advanced Astronomy notes, staying in the tower for hours that evening for your weekly observations. Despite this, Marlene was still staring at you, dubious and calculating. After a beat her eyes widened, scaring you more than you’d like to admit. 

“I know what it is,” she said as if she had some great realization. 

You looked away, your leg bouncing on the step. “Enlighten me, then.”

“What happened this weekend?” she asked, leaning forward to try and catch your eyes. “Did you and him, y’know…?”

You tried to remain expressionless, forcing your gaze to remain forward, though your efforts were in vain. A smile broke out onto her face, her hands coming to squeeze your knees in excitement. 

“No way, no way!”

Somehow, it seemed as though you always ended up here, hoping no one would hear her sequels of glee at every new development in your love life. You sent her a stern look, shushing her as you glanced around the corridor. 

“This is the best day of my life,” she shrieked. Thankfully, her voice dropped down to a whisper, though she was still working to contain her fervor, “Great Godric, this is bloody fantastic!” 

“You have to be quiet,” you scolded, your eyes darting to the office door. This was the last place in the world you wanted to have this conversation. 

Marlene bent down to make herself smaller as if it would conceal her voice, completely giddy. “What happened? What exactly happened?”

“We can’t talk about this here,” you said, your hands pulling unconsciously at your sleeves. “Wait until we’re alone or something—”

“Did you tell him, or did he tell you?” Her eyes were shining with an exuberance you weren’t sure you’ve ever seen in her before, her teeth gnawing at her lip. “Did you snog? Please tell me you snogged!”

Knowing she wouldn’t leave you alone unless you partially appeased her, you grumbled, “Yes and yes.”

“You told him or he told you?” she asked hurriedly. 

“I don’t know, maybe both?” you whispered, your cheeks already on fire. “And please, for the love of all things good in the world, keep your voice down.”

You looked back at the door again, though it was still safely closed, for now. 

“So, what did he say? Was it all chivalrous, or did he, like, take you in his arms like the covers of those books Lily always makes fun of—”

“This is a new low, even for you, Marls,” you said, your face dropping. 

Her eyes narrowed as she pointed a finger in your direction. “If you don’t tell me everything, and I mean everything, I am going to be so cross with you— Wait! Does anyone else know?”

“No, and you better not tell anyone, especially Sirius. He’s just settled down with all his crap. I’m not sure how much of it I could take now.”

“Now?” she asked, her voice lifting up in delight. “Are you guys together, like a couple, in secret? That's so romantic— did he ask you to be his girlfriend?”

You let your face fall into your hands with a groan, rubbing at your eyes. It was only Thursday and you had already managed to allow Marlene in on your secret, which was not a good sign. 

“Please, can we wait until later?” you mumbled into your palms. 

You could hear her about to whine, cut short by the office door opening. You looked up, Marlene shooting back to sit up straight again. Lily emerged, none of the wiser to your conversation as she looked over at you.

You stood, glancing down at Marlene with a stern look. She rolled her eyes, standing up as well. 

“Ready?” you asked, turning back to Lily. 

“There's another Slug Club this weekend, so I won’t be around this Saturday night,” she said, following you each up the steps to the ground floor, the cold air of the dungeons replaced by the warmth of the main castle. 

“That's a drag,” Marlene said, kicking an imaginary stone. 

You frowned dramatically towards Lily. “What ever will we do without you?” 

She shoved you with her shoulder, laughing as you stumbled to the side. You laughed along, shooting more daggers at Marlene when she looked at you with an elated, sweet smile. 

“Let's have fun tomorrow, then,” you continued.

“That's if James lets us go out without the you-know-what,” Marlene huffed. “I can’t believe they haven’t found it yet.”

“They’ve been looking almost every night,” Lily whiserped, leaning in towards you and Marlene. “Remus still can’t break that charm on Filch’s office.”

Marlene sighed again, crossing her arms as you walked outside, the ground damp from fresh rain. “This is such bull. I have a bottle of Firewhiskey and everything. If they don’t find it tonight we’re going to the RoR whether James likes it or not.” 

You snorted, knowing there was a row between James and Marlene in the near future. “You can try.”

Marlene smirked, throwing her bag down onto the bench with all the confidence in the world.  “He talks a big game, but we all know who's better at getting their way.”

“No.”

“Come on,” Marlene whined, her fists balled as she stood in front of James. She looked like a spoiled child begging her father for a pony, enough to make you and Dorcas snicker as you watched them from the sofa. James’s cheeks were still ruddy from quidditch, his striped uniform jumper fitted across his arms and chest, all enough to make you want to ogle. He had stayed later than Sirius to help run drills with a second year, much to your chagrin, though you were always happy to see him after practice no matter what time he arrived. 

“No,” James said again, spinning around to walk away from her. 

Marlene followed behind, making another noise of discontent as he flopped down beside you. “This is ridiculous and you know it.”

“She has a point, James,” said Lily, who you had thus far expected to stay out of it. However, it seemed as though her trust in Dumbledore superseded her usual caution. 

James remained unconvinced, looking to the others for help. “You guys agree, don’t you?”

Peter, growing nervous under the scrutiny, nodded.

Sirius was only half paying attention, reading a muggle motor magazine with the dutifulness he should have given to his schoolwork. “Yeah, sure, Prongs.”

Remus only shrugged, peering into the fire. He glanced behind him at Marlene, his mouth tight. “It’s only been two weeks.”

“Nearly three,” she challenged, still holding her ground as she stared back at him. 

Remus sighed, meeting James’s eyes for a moment before looking back to her, almost pleading. “Give us some time to find it.”

“Exactly. We’re not miracle workers, here,” James said, throwing up a hand. 

Marlene rolled her eyes. “Clearly.”

“Marlene’s right. I think we should,” said Dorcas, leaning forward so she could look at James on the other side of the sofa. “I’ve barely gotten a chance to listen to the radio.”

“I’ll let you borrow it,” James said, clearly none too pleased that his friends were slowly succumbing to Marlene’s protests. Still, you didn’t think much would come of it, given how stubborn he could be. 

Dorcas fell back into the sofa with huff, her mouth pulled to the side. “This is such bollocks.”

“Thank you!” Marlene said, motioning to her. “See, James? You’re being completely and utterly—”

“What do you think I should name my bike?” Sirius asked, looking over the top of his magazine. 

“You’re naming your bike?” Marlene asked, her eyes ready to roll into the back of her head. 

He let the magazine drop onto his chest, unfazed by her dismissal. “If you’re not gonna be supportive, I don’t want to hear it.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “We were having a conversation, you know.” 

“I want something cool,” Sirius began, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, “but not too cool like I’m trying, or anything.”

“Yeah, cause we can’t have anyone thinking that,” Marlene said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sirius said, sitting up a bit straighter.  

“Do you have it running yet?” you asked, Marlene shaking her head as Sirius continued to scowl at her from the armchair. 

Remus snorted. “Of course, he doesn’t.”

Sirius, now grumpy, nearly gasped in offense. “What's up with the negativity, you twat. It’s not like I can work on it while we’re here. Besides, it is running. It just can’t fly yet.”

“Where do you have it stored, anyway?” Lily asked. 

“The kitchen,” Sirius answered, as if it was an entirely normal place to keep a motorbike.

Dorcas laughed in disbelief, “The kitchen?”

Sirius shrugged. “Where else am I going to keep it?”

“Why do you need to name it, anyway?” James said, an impish smile playing on his lips. He was only trying to get him going, and it seemed as though it was going to work. 

Sirius looked at him as if it were obvious. “Cause it’s badass.”

“What about Bowie?” Dorcas suggested, surprisingly taking his predicament seriously. “Nothing cooler than him.”

“Aren’t bikes supposed to be girls? Like ships?” Peter asked, glancing around for confirmation.

Lily perked up, her eyes brightening. “Yes. It’s actually pretty interesting. It comes from a superstition regarding goddesses of protection—”

Sirius groaned, slumping further into his chair. “Thanks for getting her going, Wormtail.”

James shook his head, ignoring the impending bickering match as he turned to you. He leaned in a bit closer, your shoulders touching. “Want to practice? We haven’t in a while, don’t want you getting rusty.”

“Aren’t you tired?” you asked, fighting the urge to let yourself fall into him further. 

His smile was enough to convince you of anything, though he gave you an excuse anyway. “It’s only quarter to five.”

You sighed, though it was all show, standing up and looking down at him expectantly. “Come on, then.”

“Where’re you two going?” Sirius asked as James stood, smirking devilishly at the two of you.

You turned to him with a shrug, doing your best show of nonchalance. “To practice, where else?”

“I could think of a few—”

“Don’t you have Arithmancy homework?” James interrupted, doing nothing to hide his growing irritation.

“Fuck off, Prongs. I did it yesterday,” Sirius said, throwing his magazine to the side. 

Marlene let out a single bark of laughter, holding a hand to her mouth as she turned her face away. Everyone looked at her, Lily utterly perplexed as she let out another snort. 

“Lay off the Chocolate Cauldrons, Marls,” Dorcas snapped, halfway between a joke and an insult. 

Everyone grew quiet, even more so than before. Peter’s eyes were wide as they darted this way and that, never settling on anyone in particular. Marlene dropped her hand, quietly clearing her throat as her head bent towards the floor. You remained motionless beside James, your mouth closing and then snapping shut again. 

“We’ll see you guys at dinner,” said James, turning to leave the common room. You hurried to catch up, looking back to see everyone watching as you stepped out. 

“Does she…?” James asked once you were a ways down the corridor, safe from prying ears. 

You nodded solemnly, your face contorting in mild indignity. “Yeah, sorry. She guessed on her own, must’ve seen it on my face. Apparently I’m not exactly good at keeping it from her.

James clicked his tongue, lost in thought. “She won’t say anything if she hasn’t already.”

“That's if she can contain her excitement,” you chuckled, dry and only half sincere. “She’s almost as happy as I am.”

He turned to you as you came upon the wall, a jaunty grin plastered onto his face. “So, you’re happy?”

You shook your head at him, standing to the side as he began to walk back and forth to reveal the entrance. “You think?”

You stood beside him as the door slowly revealed itself, his smile not having left. You were the first to push it open, glancing over your shoulder as he slipped inside behind you. “Wanted to get me alone, did you?”

“Hanging out with you around the others is good and all,” he began, waltzing over to you, “but having to hide it is pretty tiring.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that made you grow warm in the face. 

“Are we really practicing, then?” you asked. “Or is this just some big ploy?”

He smirked. “We probably should. Don’t want you getting rusty.”

You took a step back, his hands dropping for your shoulders. “How boring,” you drawled, making your way across the room. 

“I think you mean studious!”

“I know what I said,” you said, pulling your wand from your pocket. “Bring it, Potter.”

James refused to use any advanced spells on you since you got hurt, sticking to hexes and jinxes that could be easily remedied if you were unable to block them. Still, it was good practice, even if you were only throwing up shields against the Bat Bogey hex. 

It was nearing dinner when you forced him to stop, insisting that he needed to eat after two separate practices. He allowed you to dote on him for a second, soon pestering you to stay just a while longer. 

“Come on, when's the next time we’ll be alone?” 

You looked down at him where he was sitting on the floor, his smile nearly inviting enough to persuade you. You checked your watch, sighing as you saw the time. 

“We only have fifteen minutes. They’ll come looking for us if we stay any longer,” you said, though it didn’t seem to get through to him. 

“We’ll hear them outside the door,” he countered, tapping your ankle with the tip of his shoe. “You’re hurting my feelings, here.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a primadonna.”

His grin only widened, his foot tapping you again. You sighed, sitting down in front of him with the knowledge he would likely tease you over the way you gave in so soon. 

Surprisingly he didn’t, instead throwing himself into your lap, resting his head on your legs with a pleased look. You began to laugh, growing nervous the way you did before Saturday night, before the beginning of your unconventional relationship.  

“What’re you doing?”

He looked up at you, his head lifting a fraction as a hesitance made its way into his expression, once utterly content. “Do you want me to get up?” 

“No,” you said, still giggling, “don’t.”

He smiled, almost boyish beside his cherubic curls, barely contained by his fathers invention. He put his head back down, his hands resting on his stomach as if he were laying on a beach someplace far away, basking in the sunlight. He closed his eyes, his lashes dark against his cheeks. You ran a hand over his hair, your thumb brushing across the tail of his brow. 

“James?” you began, your voice low. “When did you, y’know, really start to fancy me?” 

It felt easier to say at a whisper, like it could hide the glaring hindrance to an otherwise untainted story. You knew he must’ve recognized what you were asking: when did you start to fall out of love with Lily and into love with me? 

He opened his eyes, meeting yours before they drifted away, down to your chin. 

“I don’t really know. It wasn’t all at once,” he said after a moment of silence. “Right before we all went home for Christmas last year it started to feel different with her. Whatever we had had worn off, and when it wasn’t exciting,” he faltered, his head turning to look away, over towards the door. “I guess it just became something we were both doing even if we didn’t really know why.”

“I’m sorry– I,” you stuttered, feeling like you should speak, but not knowing what to say.

“Don’t be.” He sat up, brushing a hand over the side of your neck, his fingers inching up to your ear as if it were a work of art all on its one. “I could see it on her face. The novelty had worn off. Once we came back to school, everything we did pissed each other off. When she said we should break up, it wasn’t hard not to argue.” 

“You don’t have to tell me this. I should’ve asked,” you said softly, shame creeping up on you. 

He shook his head, reaching down to grab your hand, cradling it in his. 

“I want you to know. I want you to know that you have nothing to feel guilty about. You did nothing wrong, Y/N,” he paused, sighing as he held your index finger, moving on to your middle, then your ring, stopping there to gaze at it, to hold it. “I knew I was in trouble when I was back home, ‘cause I kept writing you letters and throwing them into the fireplace before I sent them. Lily and I— it’d take us days to write each other back, but if you had written me, I would’ve sent an owl within the hour. Then…that's when I knew.” He dropped your hand, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that nearly scared you. “Lily and I weren’t right for each other. She knew it and I knew it, and it was just a matter of time before we broke up. Me fancying you, it just made it happen quicker. All you did was save us a few months of arguing.” 

“I’m sorry I always seem to bring her up,” you said, a deep, poignant melancholy making its way into a moment that should’ve been happy, without the burdens of outside forces. Still, you couldn’t help but think of her, your best friend. 

“You didn’t, I did,” he said, his voice laced with a tenderness that made your chest ache. “And don’t say you're sorry. I should be sorry. I was stupid, I was so bloody stupid I’m surprised you’re even in love with me.”

You furrowed your brows, the thought of not loving him almost impossible to conceive. “What d’you mean?”

His gaze grew distant, though not entirely unreachable, foggy around the edges. “I liked the idea of Lily, and I was dumb enough to think that the longer I was with her the more she’d be like the person I made her out to be in my mind. But she wasn’t,” he spoke slowly, sure in every word he said. His eyes met yours again, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “She was Lily, who’s fantastic, but she's not the girl I fell in love with. For a while I thought I did– thought I fell in love with her— but I was just kidding myself. I had no fucking idea what love was,” his words burst from him in the same way he sat with bated breath during a quidditch match, screaming at the top of his lungs when his team scored. You saw in his eyes only earnestness, the image of a young man taken up in something bigger than himself. 

Suddenly, his shoulders relaxed, licking his lips as he looked at you fondly. “And then there was you. And I know I’m in love with you, because if I’m not, then no one has ever been in love before.”

You stared back at him, a small part of your insecurities fading into the background where they could live with your old self, the one who didn’t know James as you knew him now. He continued to surprise you, even though you should’ve been used to the way he spoke so fervently. Sometimes his words stumbled from him onto unsteady ground, imperfect and lacking some finer complexities, though now was not one of those times. You knew precisely what he meant, and it made you want to cry. 

“James,” you said, no more than a whisper, your eyes growing glassy. “I don’t know what to say— I never know what to say.”

He touched your cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“But I do,” you began, reaching up to hold his wrist. “You can’t just say all of that and then expect me not to have anything to say back.”

“Yes I can,” he said, shaking his head. “I fucked up before, and I’m gonna make sure I don’t fuck it up again. I’ll tell you everything that happened with me and her, everything I ever thought about you, the whole thing. And maybe one day, whenever you feel like it, you can tell me everything that happened before Saturday. But I’m not gonna ask, ‘cause you don’t have to. Never feel like you have to.”

You couldn’t help yourself. Your grip tightened on his wrist, rushing forward to kiss him. His hand remained on your face, rubbing at your cheek, cradling your jaw as you pushed at the sleeve of his jumper. Your head felt light the way it did when you chain smoked after a party, when everything you touched felt realer, more alive than the living. 

“Thank you,” you said, only inches away from his mouth. You were breathless, pecking him once before speaking again, “I want to— tell you, I mean.”

His eyes were blown out under his glasses, his lips daringly pink. “What do you want to tell me?” he asked, speaking much the same. 

“I don’t know, just something.” You laughed a bit, brushing some hair off his forehead. You thought of everything that came before, back to the very beginning. “Before we were friends, before I really knew you, I didn’t really like you.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel good?” he chuckled. 

“No— well, yeah, I guess. It’s just that you were so charming. Everyone seemed to love you, even the professors, even though you were a giant pain in the arse.” 

James pushed your shoulder lightly, breaking your confession with a laugh. You did the same, trying to push down your nerves enough to continue. 

“You just seemed to shine,” you said, swallowing some lingering uncertainty, “like this ray of light that forced you to look. But I thought it was all on purpose, that you were charming on purpose, and maybe if I looked hard enough I could see through your act. But after we started to become friends, it was blinding, you were blinding, because I knew that it was real,” you stopped, realizing that what you were saying was mildly insulting. You looked at James, though he didn’t seem offended. On the contrary, he was staring at you in a strange sort of amazement, as if you had described something otherwise indescribable.

“When I knew you, really knew you, I finally understood why everyone loved you. I fought against it for a long time, because I knew once I was in, I was never getting out. I couldn’t help it, and it started to eat me up inside. I don’t really remember exactly, but by last Christmas it was stressing me out, because I knew I had a crush on my friend's boyfriend. I thought that maybe it would go away, but it never did. It wasn’t until a month ago that I realized I loved you, or at least admitted it to myself.”

“Don’t give me a big head,” he said, slowly breaking out into a grin. 

“It’s too late for that,” you teased, happy when he kissed you again, just once. 

“I have you beat, though,” he said, pulling away. You only looked at him with furrowed brows, completely confused. “I wrote you a letter on Halloween when I was absolutely pissed. It said ‘I’m in love with you, I’m sorry,’” he laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I wish I had kept it, would’ve been funny to have now.”

“That long?” you asked, your heart leaping. 

“What can I say? You’re easy to love.”

Chapter Twenty-One

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Tag List: @floverisland @ilovejamespottersomuch @googie-jeon @tvnile

[consciouscarrot]

day 18 - pumpkin [j.maybank]

jj maybank x fem!reader

content warnings; one gag but no v*, throwing pumpkin guts on eachother, just them being silly, overuse of the word guts (bc wtf else do i call it), very slightly suggestive ending

notes; no s4 spoilers in this (bc i still haven’t gotten around to watching it yet), a shorter one tday!! but super early :3

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

orange stained the table beneath where you and jj were carving pumpkins, guts and seeds covering its surface. you’d chosen to go for a simple yet classic design- a cute face, whereas jj had chosen to do a weed leaf. he was now heavily regretting that, because his ‘weed’ somehow looked more like a balled up hedgehog with a weirdly long dick, not that he’d admit that to you.

“see, i told you we should’ve matched but you didn’t wanna hear it! and now mine looks perfect and yours looks like… well that,” you said, turning around to grab another carving tool.

you squealed when you were suddenly alerted to the revolting feeling of slimy pumpkin guts hitting your bare arm, sliding off when you shook it in disgust, gasping sharply.

“jj! what the fuck?” you shriek, spinning around towards him.

“that’s what you deserve for criticising my beautiful pumpkin,” throwing you a lopsided grin, pride radiating off him.

you lunged, grabbing a handful of the pumpkin entrails from your pile, before chucking it in his direction, laughing when it landed with a big splat on his chest, slithering down to drop wetly on the floor.

his jaw gaped, completely speechless as you giggled nervously, “oh i’m so gonna get you for that,” he threw more guts at you, chasing you around the table, almost slipping on a mushed up pile of it on the floor.

you were both in a fit of giggles, throwing whatever bits of pumpkin you could find at eachother, screaming when one handful landed on your head and face, pushing you over your limit of filth.

“okay, okay, no more,” you panted, hands going up in a defensive stance, “you win.”

“of course i did, i always win,”

you throw a pointed look at his pumpkin, instantly regretting it as he broke your truths, grabbing you and shoving some of the goop down your top.

he gave you a satisfied nod, letting you go with a gross kiss to your unsullied cheek, slobbery lips matching the texture of the pumpkins.

swatting him, you let out a breath of relief, leaning forward against the table, before quickly pulling back with a grimace at the mess under your hands.

the two of you tried to get the worst bits off, but the slime coating you would absolutely need a couple of showers to get off, at least.

“it’s all in my hair,” you whined, picking a particularly slithery piece out with a gag.

“aw my poor baby, c’mon i’ll help you get it out in the shower, we’ll save water if we do it together,” he said with a wink and a slap to your ass, guiding you towards the bathroom, leaving the mess of a kitchen to be dealt with later.

[sammiknowss]

His Own Little Secret

Louis was laughing happily in a bar, voice still a little scratchy, and comfortably cross faded. 

He and the guys had been lucky enough to have a bit of a break between shows, and they just so happened to be in Tampa, so they spent the day lounging on a yacht just off the coast, enjoying drinks and a bit of weed, before they came back to shore to party for the night.

They had decided against going to one of the more exclusive clubs, mostly because they all spent the day out on the water, and none of them were willing to clean up and dress up to get in. Instead, with a bit of research, they found a hole in the wall spot that was full, but not packed, and most, if not all, of the patrons didn’t seem to know or care who he was. 

He was sitting in a booth, facing the door, sipping on his Vodka Redbull when the door opened, and a small group of girls filtered through. They seemed to share his and his band’s sentiments, if not to a more extreme level, as he could still see the straps of their swimsuits under their still-damp clothes. 

The girls were fit, but relatively unremarkable, so he tuned back into the story that Oli was telling. Oli had just gotten to the good part when they passed back behind his booth once more, and one of them caught his eye. 

She wasn’t his type, really. He tended to go for the overly thin, leggy, model types for a one-off, and with his son and his tour, he hadn’t had anything deeper than that in a long while. 

She was thin, sure, but in a sporty way, with strong, slim legs and a tight little ass that he took a moment to admire as she walked with her friends in search of a booth. Her hair was pulled on top of her head in a long, curly ponytail, and her skin was sunkissed, cheeks a little pink (from a sunburn or alcohol, he didn’t know).

She was cute. 

She wasn’t really his type.

But something about her made the cogs in his intoxicated brain spin. There was something about her…

He stared, unabashedly for a moment (luckily without her noticing) before one of the guys took notice.

“Which one?” Michael asked, tipping his head in their direction.

“Oh,” Louis answered, dropping his eyes from her, and tracing the condensation from his glass that left a ring on the dirty table, “it’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously something,” he muttered back, squinting into the group, like that might help, “been staring for longer than you ought to.”

“One of them is just familiar, I think…” he trailed off, staring her down for a brief moment before it clicked.

“Shit! I got it!” He exclaimed, slightly too loud, “she was at the show last night, second row of seats, looked like she hated it.”

Luckily, the din of conversation in the room covered for his shouting. 

More often than not, Louis didn’t fixate on one or a few people at his shows, but something about this girl had caught his eye enough to make him check back a few times, and she genuinely did not seem to be enjoying herself, like, at all. 

He honestly didn’t have anything against her if she did hate it, or hate him, but something in him wanted to be a little shit. He wanted to go bother her and get to the bottom of it. 

Louis moved to get up, but Michael stopped him, “Where are you going, asshole?” He asked, somewhat fondly. 

“Gonna talk to her.”

“You just said she didn’t like you, mate.” Michael was a voice of reason. We all need friends like Michael.

Louis was, admittedly, a little drunk, but he got up anyways, and Michael didn’t actually stop him.

As he approached, she caught his eyes, and blinked a few times, seemingly trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

“Hello,” Louis led with, only to be met with silence, as she looked back to one of her friends desperately. Her eyes were brown, and it seemed that she had at least put on eye makeup to make her doe eyes pop before coming to the bar. It was light and simple, but it made her eyes hypnotic. Louis didn’t think brown eyes could be that enticing.

He waited patiently while the girls communicated silently before one of them pushed her towards him and walked away.

“I’ll go on if you want me to, love.” Louis said, taking a sip from his drink, “but I’d love to buy you a drink and find out why you didn’t like the show last night.”

Her already pink cheeks darkened a shade, and she nodded silently.

Mixed signals at best.

She truly hated him, but she wanted a free drink?

He was a bit confused (he’d blame it on the alcohol), but followed her to the bar like a lost puppy anyways. 

“Hey D, what are you - what the actual fuck?!?” A girl leaning against the bar began to greet her before she spotted him.

Louis watched as the back of her head bobbed up and down silently.

This girl, it seemed, was a much bigger fan of his, as she gave him a beaming smile and reached her hand out around her friend, who she had called “D.”

“Louis,” she greeted, a little breathless, “my name is Eliza, it’s actually kinda crazy to meet you. We just watched you play last night.”

Louis took her hand in his and shook it for a moment, “I know.” 

“You know?” She said, a little too loudly, “what the hell does that mean.”

“You guys were close, right? Just past the pit?”

Eliza’s cheeks flamed red, and the other girl, the one who initially caught his attention, used the distraction to slip away.

“Yeah… we were.”

“So what brings you here?” He asked, tipping back his drink and swallowing the last bit. He waved at the bartender and pointed at his empty glass with a kind smile.

“Okay, sure…” the girl narrowed her eyes at him, “but I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“Smart girl,” Louis touched a finger to his temple, tilting his head to the side, “I’m here because I had a show yesterday.”

The girl laughed a little too loudly, “I know that. I was there, remember? What I meant was, why are you following D to the bar?”

“Oh,” Louis said, nodding to the bartender as he handed him another drink, “I just wanted to figure out why she didn’t like the show.”

Eliza’s reaction was almost comical. Her eyes widened, and she pursed her lips in a cartoonish manner. Louis was fairly certain that if she had taken a sip of her drink, she would have spit it on him.

“What the hell do you mean?” 

She only paused long enough to turn and look at her friend before looking back.

“No. No. D’s just shy and has major crowd anxiety. She loved the show. She was one of the ones that really wanted to go. Paid for some of our tickets and all.”

“Oh.” Louis said, a bit dumbfounded. It made sense. Why would she have been so far up if she hated him. No way the tickets were cheap.

“She honestly doesn’t want to be here either,” Eliza tipped back her drink, “funny how all this worked out.” 

Louis agreed, tapping the rim of his glass to hers gently, “too right, you are.”

They both watched her for a moment as she stood with their friends. She was smiling, only slightly, as one of their friends made a dramatic display of throwing darts at a dart board, “I’m gonna talk to her, yeah. At least apologize for judging her too quick.”

“Go easy on her, please.” Eliza said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “she really does love you, and if you’re an ass, it’ll ruin her more than most others.”

Louis was mock offended, pointing to himself, “me? An ass? Never.” 

They laughed together for a moment before he more sincerely muttered, “of course I’ll go easy on her.”

She gave him a beaming smile as he walked over to where the girl, who’s name he still didn’t know… perhaps it was Dee?

“Slipped away from me there, love.” He announced his presence as he approached from behind. She turned to look at him, eyes wide and a bit panicky.

“Can we talk?” He made sure to keep his voice as quiet as he could, gentle, approachable.

The longer he was in her presence, the more he felt like he was unprepared to handle whatever mental turmoil she had going on. She reminded him a bit of a flighty deer, or maybe a rabbit.

So he didn’t expect what happened next. He didn’t expect a small, cool hand to be thrust in his direction with the silent command of, “follow me.”

Despite his better judgment, he took her hand, and glanced back at his group one more time before following her out the door of the bar. 

He halfway expected for her to stop there, with the night air blowing around them, but she didn’t. Keeping his hand in hers, and staying half a step ahead, she led him on a quick, albeit questionable, walk. 

They passed through an alleyway, and between some fences that he was almost certain was private property, before he found himself on a quiet beach. 

She paused to take off her sneakers and socks, picking them up and holding them in her hand before stepping into the cold sand.

Honestly, the sea at night was not one of Louis’s favorite things. What was once a beautiful, shimmering blue-green, was now an angry, churning of inky black.

She dropped to the ground, sitting in the sand and pulling her knees up to her chest. She wrapped her arms around them and rested her head on her knees as she looked up at him, a bit wide eyed.

Louis stood, probably looking stupid, for a moment before he joined her, looking out at the water.

There was a silence between them, for a minute or two. It probably would have been uncomfortable, if not for the weed and alcohol in his system. At the present, he was happy to sit next to a pretty girl on the beach.

After a bit, she spoke, voice hesitant and barely audible over the waves, “I didn’t hate the concert. I promise.”

And, God, did Louis feel like a dick. 

“I know, love,” he attempted to soothe, “your buddy sorted it all out for me.”

He watched out of the corner of his eye as she deflated, body relaxing, grabbing a fistful of sand and allowing it to slip between her fingers.

“So, tell me about you, then,” he keeps his voice light. 

He doesn’t know why, but he wants to talk to her. He wants her to feel comfortable in his presence. 

She lets the shortest giggle escape her lips before meeting his gaze very seriously, “You cannot be asking me that.”

“What do you mean, love?”

“You are a rockstar. You have performed with the biggest boy band of all time. You have played venues all over the world. Shouldn’t you be telling me about yourself?”

It was the most words she had managed to string together, and it was sass. Louis was proud.

“That’s precisely why I want to know about you. You already know about me.” He paused for a moment, and when she didn’t speak, he prompted, “Start with your name.”

“Delilah…”

It seemed that all of the attitude drained out of her body and was replaced with nerves once more. Louis wanted to touch her - to calm her down in some way. In any other world, he wouldn’t be able to, but in the darkness, with the sound of the waves hitting the shore, he reached over and placed his hand on her shoulder, gently pulling her into his side.

She was stiff in his hold, but he didn’t relent, muttering a ‘keep going’ as he rubbed his tattooed hand up and down her bicep.

So she spoke.

She was in school, college, in the area, but was from another state. She didn’t allude to which, but Louis was fairly certain it was one of the southern ones based on her light accent.

She liked dogs, which Louis made sure to congratulate her on. Her favorite color was yellow, and Louis’s concert was the second concert she had been to.

The longer she spoke, the more she relaxed against him, and it felt good. Louis didn’t often like to admit that he wasn’t the biggest or strongest bloke around. Often, girls were about the same size as he was, but Delilah was quite petite, fitting perfectly against his form.

There was something about this girl, Louis thought, gazing into the night with a comfortable silence falling over them. She was relatively unremarkable. Sure, pretty enough, with killer hair, but she was just generally average. And it was a breath of fresh air. It felt like forever since he had met a girl that reminded him of home. But something about this girl did. 

A girl in Tampa, Florida, of all places. A girl who could not be further from home. But for some odd reason, she felt a bit like home.

Louis had no idea how long they sat in the sand. He should have pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked, but he wasn’t willing to do anything that would disturb the precious bubble of peace that he had managed to find. 

It wasn’t until she was shivering against him, the cool mist coming off of the sea doing nothing to help, that he decided that it was time to make their way back to the bar. He was certain that Oli was probably losing his shit looking for Louis, and he could only hope her friends were looking out for her.

“Okay, love,” he said, breaking the tentative silence, and giving her one more squeeze, “we should probably get you back to your friends.” 

He reluctantly took his arm back and stood, offering a hand to help her stand.

When she stood, eyes sparkling in the light of the moon, Louis was overwhelmed with the urge to kiss her.

Quick. Just to see what it would be like.

But it had been a while since his last drink, and he had sobered up a bit. 

And, with a sinking feeling, he knew. This was it. He would never see sweet Delilah again, and it wouldn’t be fair to her to do that. It wouldn’t be fair to make her think that there would ever be anything between them, even if she did brighten his mood substantially as the evening went on.

No. Instead of following his instincts, he pressed the softest kiss to her forehead, and clutched her hand a little too tightly as she showed him the way back to the bar.

When they got there, Oli was outside, pacing frantically as he made calls. As soon as he saw the pair coming towards him, he shook his head, said something into the phone, and hung up. 

“Where the hell have you been?!” Oli scolded, “we have to be on the road in an hour!”

Louis just shrugged and let go of Delilah’s hand, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest. 

She seemed to be struggling too, though, as she gave him a forced, closed lipped smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and started walking down the road.

A better man would have made sure she made it home safe.

A better man would have gotten her number so he could check on her in the morning. 

Louis was pretty quiet for the rest of the night, even after they had boarded the bus, and were traveling at about 70 mph down the interstate. He sat quietly, nursing a mug of chamomile tea (which he honestly thought tasted terrible, but he needed to sleep). 

When Oli asked what happened, he didn’t tell him. Delilah was his now. His own little secret that would stay tucked into his chest.

[untitled-tmnt-blog]

Summary of some answers from today's Q&A with Ron Corcillo!

(July 29, 2023)

Bullet points are below the cut, since it's a pretty long list! Some combine multiple answers, and they're categorized for ease of reading (obviously not every single answer is included, but I tried to get most of the ones I thought people might find interesting!)

Apocalyptic Future

The turtles were fighting side by side with Cassandra when Casey Jr was born, and Leo trained him to be a warrior. Casey Jr only has brief memories of his mother from when he was very young, and he was mostly raised by Leo.

The chips on Leo's plastron are probably battle scars.

Mikey was likely the equivalent of being in his 70's. He was powerful enough that he could unlock almost any mystic ability you could think of, but using them took a toll on him physically. The more powerful the ninpo, the more potential it has to sap your energy.

Mikey can open up portals through all of space and time (as opposed to Leo, who can mostly portal over relatively short distances), but it took him a long time to get to that level of ability.

Mikey probably grew a little taller than seen in the movie, but shrank as the use of his powers depleted him. Donnie would be slightly taller than Leo, and Raph would be at least 6'6".

The characters have obviously taken hits and lost some things from years of fighting the Krang, but Leo still does have his ninpo.

They never worked out the specifics for how Raph and Donnie died, just that they lost their lives in the war against the Krang.

Future Leo was mortally wounded in his bleeding side, and that was why he didn't go with Casey to the past.

If season 2 hadn't been cut short

The sudden declaration of Leo as leader wouldn't have happened, and was more of a joke because of how abruptly the show ended. The original plan was for the transition to be drawn out over much of season 3. Raph and Leo probably would have been co-leaders for a while, and the transfer of leadership wouldn't have caused tension since Raph would like to share the burden. There might have been some situations where Mikey or Donnie took the lead, too. Ron never saw the turtles as a group where there had to be one absolute leader.

Karai would have lived for much longer, and been training the boys in person for a number of episodes.

If there was a season 3 / plans they had for future seasons

They probably wouldn't have ever taken a dark turn with the show, but may have gotten into more of an extended plot line after the movie.

The missing sister who was Big Mama's henchperson would probably have been a very disciplined super serious ninja, to the point where she's actually funny. She was going to be named after a female artist, possibly Frida Kahlo, and the turtles would have had to win her back from Big Mama by helping her to see that she had been brainwashed as a child.

Their other missing sister was going to be trapped in another dimension for years, and might have been "a little kooky" from being there so long. The turtles would have split up to rescue their sisters, but there were no definite plans beyond that.

We would definitely see Casey Jr again. Ron would love to see a spin-off where Casey and Cassandra roam the world and fight the Krang and remnants of the Foot.

It was going to be revealed that a Krang spaceship had crashed into the back of the crying titan in the Hidden City. The ship's fuel was the source of the ooze that gives the Yokai their power, and possibly the origin of the Yokai themselves. The crashed spaceship is what drew the invasion there a thousand years ago.

Mikey's powers could have opened the door to some multiverse episodes.

We might have seen some redemption from Big Mama, but then also seen her relapse to her villainous ways.

The Rat King likely would have been the next big villain. Shredder's story is pretty resolved, so they wouldn't have gone back to him, but maybe they could have revived the dark armor. There were no existing plans for Bishop, but once the turtles became better known heroes, he could be a thorn in their side. They would have done a lot more with the Krang.

Donnie probably thinks he's much smarter than Raph, so it would have been fun to do an episode where he got to see how Raph beats him in common sense and emotional intelligence.

The turtles would probably talk to Karai's Hamato spirit when they need guidance.

Season 3 would pick up where the movie left off. They would have launched a new story right away, but the aftermath would have been in the background. We would have seen how they changed as a result of the movie events, as well as how they deal with now being in the public eye as heroes.

Miscellaneous

The 2012 series was very traditional TMNT, so a big goal of Rise was to mix things up. Making Raph the leader opened up a lot of possibilities for both Leo and Raph: Raph didn't have to be angry all the time about not being the leader, and Leo was free to be cocky and fun-loving. It was a breath of fresh air for writers who had done previous TMNT versions.

As for how the turtles take after Yoshi: Donnie got a lot of his cockiness from him, as did Leo. Mikey senses that Yoshi misses his family, and that's part of the reason he always tries to hold the family together. Raph got his courage and sense of duty from him.

For Halloween, Raph would be a kitten, Mikey would be a lion, Leo would be a rock star, and Donnie would be J. Robert Oppenheimer.

Raph's favorite music is R&B, Leo's is glam rock, Donnie's is techno, and Mikey likes boy bands.

When asked about the turtles "favorite" brothers (obviously they all love each other): Mikey is Raph's favorite. As much as Leo gives Donnie a hard time, he really likes him. Ultimately, the three younger brothers all really look up to Raph.

The turtles all had their mystic powers inherently, but they didn't know it and couldn't unlock them without a little boost. Their mystic weapons acted as a conduit.

Splinter has a lot of power that hasn't been revealed, and there's a good chance he can do anything the boys can do if he really tries (which is how he could use Leo's portals). Their powers all would have grown and expanded over time.

Ron really likes fanart of the turtles, Splinter, and April in emotional family situations, as that is the heart of the show.

They didn't really get into romance in the show, but fans are free to use their imagination.

Hueso would never admit it, but he and Leo do have a close friendship.

While Ron doesn't think the show will be brought back any time soon since Nick's focus is on Mutant Mayhem (which he thinks Rise fans will enjoy, since they seem to have a lot in common), he does think it could be brought back further down the road. The most helpful thing is fans' continued support through watching, posting, and spreading the word!

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Courting Ayelýn

Series Listing Found Here

Aonung x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Pressured by his parents to enter a formal courtship, Aonung rebels in his own way and what starts as a ruse, turns into something real. 

Note before reading: This is a spin off of my Safe Haven Series.

Reading Safe Haven is not necessary to follow this story.

Some characters have been aged up. Aonung in particular is 25.

Ayelýn is my own creation. *Pronounced Aye-Lin

Warning!! This part contains smut.

~

Part 4 - When They Fucked

When Aonung had asked for the two of them to do something, Ayelýn thought perhaps they’d still end up somewhere public- for show.

Maybe they’d take a walk along the beach, or even attend a storytelling event, but no.

What she hadn’t intended from his request of it being just the two of them was that it truly was… just the two of them.

Their evening started out with a late night swim. Aonung led her to one of his favourite spots- a brightly illuminated, underwater hidden gem, filled with sea fauna and flora that was too beautiful for words. 

And so captivated by her surroundings, Lýn had missed the way Aonung drank her in- as though seeing her for the very first time.

Later on, they found themselves on his private tiny island, seated inside of the little makeshift structure he had crafted for himself. 

The sort of lean-to design was just tall enough that Aonung didn’t hit his head when standing and wide enough that at least four Na’vi could fit comfortably. 

Mismatched, frayed mats laid scattered on the sand, acting as a sort of flooring that also provided comfort, and there was even a well-worn hammock set up in a way that the amazing scenery was still within view.

Near the threshold, they sat face to face as Aonung revealed dish after dish from a sack that had already been there waiting for them. Their position also allowed them the gorgeous view of the glittering sky and sea- stars all out in their glory as rhythmic crashing waves sang.  

In quick succession, laid out between them was an impressive spread that had Lýn salivating. 

“My Eywa,” she whispered through an excited smile, tucking flyaways behind her ears. “It all looks so good! Is- is this hexapede?” 

“Mhm,” Aonung hummed, loving her reactions. 

“Where did all of this come from?”

“We got a huge delivery of goods this morning from the Omaticaya. I’ve already made sure Keftxo gets their fair share,” he said, trying not to wince guiltily. “I didn’t know any wasn’t given to Keftxo the last two times… but things should be brought down within the next few days since they’re still sorting through everything we got.” 

The trading system between the clans of Pandora was well developed by now. With the use of human technology, communication was up and running, thus, enabling an established procedure.

“Aonung,” Lýn voiced softly. She had no words. He’d gone above and beyond for her little village time and time again. 

He tutted at her affectionately, understanding the wave of gratitude she was trying to express. 

“We got fresh meat this time around. I made us some hexepade stew and roasted hexape-”

“Wait… you cooked? You? I thought you hate cooking?”

He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled something incoherent under his breath and without responding, he continued pointing out the options- one after the other. 

“- oh and Lo’ak gave us a couple of these things from his private stash- something called sari cakes, I think? They’re courtesy Neteyam’s mother-in-law… and finally-” He emptied a pouch that held, “Yovo fruit.”

Ayelýn gasped. “Yovo fruit? You’re kidding! I’ve always wanted to try these.”

“I know.” Aonung had gotten them specially well preserved for the journey- just for her. 

He chose the best looking one of the batch and held it out to her, pleased when she leaned in to take a bite of the fruit between his fingers. 

Tossing the remaining piece in his mouth, he watched as her face morphed into one of ecstasy, eyes rolling in bliss, lips licked with a moan of appreciation. Her reaction had the front of his tweng straining within seconds. 

“That’s sooo good,” she sighed. 

“Fuck, Lýn.” He cracked his neck, willing his body to calm down. “Can you try not to kill me so early tonight?” he half begged, half teased. 

It took her a split second to catch his meaning, but when she spotted his obvious situation- one he made no effort to hide, she managed to mumble an apology through a mortified blush- though a small part of her was pleased she had that much of an effect on him. 

Conversation, fun and flowing after that, they talked about everything and nothing as they indulged in their Omaticaya delicacies- sharing and feeding each other bites of food with exclamations of “you have to try this!” and “oh Eywa, this one is amazing!”

And when their bellies were full and satisfied, their attention fell on the view before them.

A light breeze ruffled their hair while they sat in comfortable silence- both minds preoccupied. 

Fiddling with his bottom lip, Aonung tossed fleeting glances Lýn’s way- a question on the tip of his tongue. And unbeknownst to him, Lýn was also sneaking her own peeks- finding him far more captivating than their scenery. 

Momentarily distracted by a leather waterskin almost sort of hidden behind him, she couldn’t help ask, “What’s in that? Did we forget to try something?”

“Hm?” He turned to see, then, “Oh, no. That’s not for you to try. Lo'ak said it’s lethal. Some insane concoction called Spir’ytüs.” 

Ayelýn looked affronted. “What do you mean not for me to try? I want to try it.”

“Sorry, gorgeous but no.” 

“All I’m asking is for a sip!”

“Lýn, you can barely handle the lightly fermented ones we make here.”

“Says who?!”

“Uh- says me? Says that one time you were stupid enough to have a competition with Rotxo and I had to carry you back to your parents inebriated and had to explain to them that it was in no way my fault, yet your father glared at me as if I had fed you every sip myself!”

“That was one time! You know I usually hold my spirits well!”

“Yeeah. I’m not taking any chances. Especially with something I haven’t tried yet.” 

Determination blazing through her gaze and boldness taking control, Lýn crossed over to his side, careful of the spread that separated them, and in the blink of an eye, she was planting herself in his lap, knees on either side of hips. 

At her shocking actions, Aonung worked his jaw, eyes flickering to her lips before returning to her eyes. “You’re playing a very dangerous game, Ayelýn.”

“Am I?” Her palms danced down his skin, starting from his shoulders, feathering down his chest to land flat against the hard panes of his stomach. They rounded his sides with clear intent on the pouch behind him. “Not if I win,” she whispered in his ear. 

Like lightning, he caught her wrists and clutched them in one hand. Her feeble protests died rather quickly when he lifted his knees- making her land exactly where he wanted. The jaw dropping shock on her face at the intimate feeling of him pressed up against her warm heat was worth the painful ache it came with. 

Lýn could do nothing but watch as he used his free hand to pop off the top of the waterskin and take a deep swig of its contents. 

He tried not to wince at the burn but failed- it was sickly sweet and definitely fucking potent. 

“I win,” he rasped, triumphant grin stretching wide and taunting as he tightened his hold on her wrists- not that he needed to, since the minx in his lap put up no fight. 

Never one to back down, Ayelýn arched her brow as if saying really? And then she surprised him yet again by leaning in and kissing him- tongue darting out to taste the essence of the sweet spirits lingering on his lips and tongue. 

She’d stolen her taste. 

It happened so fast, Aonung barely had time to register, because she was then leaning back with a satisfied smirk and smacking her lips with a pleased hum. 

“No… I think I, win.” 

But Aonung was quick to retaliate. Greedy and demanding, he devoured her with the type of kiss that had her dizzy within mere seconds. 

Wrists released, her hands framed his face as their lips and tongues danced- moving to a tune that worked in perfect symphony. 

“Stay,” he begged against her lips- finally asking that question he knew he shouldn’t be asking.

He chased after her when she tried to break their connection, stealing one last firm kiss before she managed to push him backwards. 

“Aonung, this is a bad idea.” 

Logically, he knew she was right.

It was a terrible idea. 

Eyes roaming over her, he licked his lips. At some point he had released the tie that kept her wild hair confined. She was stunning- swollen lips, flushed cheeks and fully blown pupils. 

He wanted to kiss her again. 

So he did. 

One hand tangled her hair, he angled her head and parted her lips with his own. And though he could still feel her lingering inner fight, she kissed him back just as feverishly. 

Lýn rolled her hips- a single, deep roll against the thick ridge of him that gave her the most delicious friction despite the layers separating them- one that gained her a staggering groan from Aonung.

“Do you have to get back tonight?”

“Anou-”

He didn’t want to face her rejection just yet, so he silenced her with another kiss- a kiss that made her tail and toes curl… a kiss that hurt her heart just a little bit. 

The incessant throbbing between her thighs had become overly unbearable and, aching for relief, Lýn gave in, encouraging his touch as his hands explored her skin. 

They skimmed up her thighs and squeezed her ass before traveling up her sides- calloused thumbs sweeping the underside of her breasts. 

A loud swear escaped him and his hips bucked when she rolled again- core rubbing deliberate and way too much for him to handle. He clamped a firm hand on her waist to prevent her from doing it again.

Unhappy about this, she smacked the hand away and he smacked her backside in response, tugging on her tail in warning for good measure. 

“Ayelýn, I’m going to come within seconds if you keep that up.”

“That sounds like a you problem.” She yelped at the tug of her hair and the stinging bite he left on her neck. 

“So mouthy,” he mused. 

“And you’re annoying,” she muttered with a nip of her own against his jaw.

But then, reality creeping in, alarming and loud in her head, Lýn’s mouth moved faster than her mind, spewing, “I’m not a play-thing.”

Aonung reared back to see her face. A flash of hurt crossed his features and despite how fast he’d schooled his expression, she still caught it. “Of course you're not… Where did that even come from?”

“I- I’m just saying… I don’t know what any of this is or what we’re doing, but I needed you to know that.”

“Lýn. You're not,” he emphasized.

She nodded, glad to have at least cleared that with him.

“And anyway… It’s- uh… been a while for me,” he admitted in a soft tone. “I don’t- I’m not that Aonung anymore. I’d hope you think so too.” 

She did think so. Aonung was so much more different than she’d realized. Different from the rumors… different from when they’d first met.  

“When you say a while…”

“Mmm, counting? Over a year…” He scratched his jaw. “Almost two by now since we’ve been together- well not together together-” he rambled. “You know what I mean.” 

“Oh.” Ayelýn turned the information around in her mind as she bit on the tip of her thumb.

He hadn’t been with a woman in that long? How? Why?

“Okay,” she finally said. “And to be clear, you want to-” she gestured between the two of them, “-with me?” 

“Yes,” he answered firmly, fingers toying with the string that kept her top in place. “It’s no pressure though. We’re just having fun, right?” 

“Fun.” 

“Mhmm.” He ducked his head to nose at that spot where her neck and jaw connected. With one tug of the string, the beaded thing covering her breasts fell into her lap. 

A shudder made her jerk in his arms and Lýn blamed it on a gust of wind. This time of year and this late out, the breeze could get nippy… It definitely wasn’t the way Aonung was mouthing at her flesh, or the way his thumbs brushed over her hardened nipples. 

Definitely not…

Fuck. 

“Okay,” she agreed breathlessly, head lulling backwards as his path trailed from her collarbones, to the tops of her chest that rose and fell in anticipation. “But just this one time and we don’t talk about it afterwards. Agreed?”

Aonung paused at her words. 

He didn’t want that. 

And instead of responding, he swallowed her nipple into his mouth. 

~

Sex with Aonung was not at all what Ayelýn imagined… and yes guilty- she had imagined this moment…. Many times actually. 

In the early days of their pretend courtship, a heartbroken woman named Zers’i had cornered Lýn, giving her a piece of her mind- accusing her of stealing the man she hoped she’d settle down with. 

By the end of the rant, Zers’i had turned from bitter and angry into a sobbing mess. And in the midst of Lýn, comforting the weeping woman on her shoulder, it led to an interesting revelation. 

“You’re going to have to do all the work. I- I guess I don’t feel so bad now,” the blubbering soul had stammered through tears. 

At the time, Ayelýn didn’t know what that meant, but with two other confrontations that bore similar remarks, she gathered that Aonung could be somewhat of a selfish lover. 

Yet here, in this moment as the stars watched over them, Aonung had ripped sounds from her lips she didn’t even know she could make. 

The man was ruthless in his pursuit to learn what she liked- mapping her body with his hands, lips, tongue… tail. 

He was far from selfish as he stayed buried between her thighs for Eywa knows how long, lapping and sucking while his fingers curled deep within her heat, causing delicious pleasure to consume her in wave after wave. 

Then, while she was mid recovery from another glorious orgasm, he was rearing onto his knees, lifting her calf over his shoulder and thrusting into her in one fluid stroke- right the the hilt. 

That first time, the burning stretch and his pace was brutal. 

Skin slapping on skin he took her hard and fast, practically contouring her body to his will as profanity fell from his lips like a prayer. He really didn’t last long at all and he even apologized for it when he dropped down next to her to catch his breath. 

Post orgasmic haze, his lips were everywhere, peppering her with sweet, playful kisses as he whispered things that made her blush.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?”

“You make the prettiest sounds when you come.”

“Will you let me taste you again?”

“...You’re beautiful.”

Eager to have her own way with him, she had slithered between his thighs, mouth watering at the sight of him coated in her arousal. 

Lýn was pretty sure dicks weren’t supposed to look pretty. She guessed he must have been an exception. 

He was quite impressive even though he was half hard. She wouldn’t tell him that though, she was sure it would only go to his head, especially judging by the stupid smirk he’d given her as she took him in. 

Lýn enjoyed teasing him. Within seconds of her little playful strokes and licks, he was fully erect and leaking all over her hand. His stomach hollowed out and his moans and grunts were loud as her head bobbed- mouth taking him deeper and deeper down her throat each time she came up for air. 

And when the cusp of his impending release came near, he was sitting up, impatiently pulling her up his body by the hair and kissing her with such passion, she was on the verge of combusting. 

Drenched between her thighs from her own arousal and his release from earlier, he slipped in with ease, sliding her down his length until she took him all- back bowing because at this angle, the man was impossibly deep. 

Eyes locked in unspoken intensity, they released quiet breathy sighs as they relished in the feeling of him seated inside her- deep and full and tight and warm. 

Limbs folded around each other and lips meeting halfway, they rocked slowly, fucking in a way that didn’t feel like fucking at all. 

Aonung planted kisses on her temple and her cheek and jaw, hands smoothing over every inch of skin he could find while Lýn clung to him- tiny murmurs and mewls escaping her.

They moved in tandem, deliberate rolls and grinds that weren’t rushed or hurried as they climbed higher and higher- the build up so profound and fervent, a few tears sprang to Lýn’s eyes. 

“Fuck, I’m going to come soon.” He licked away the lone teardrop that escaped her, and she tasted the salt on his tongue when he parted her lips with it. “Come with me, gorgeous. Please.”

She nodded and led one of his hands between them, showing him what she wanted- clit needing attention for her to get there. 

It was tempting to increase their rhythm, to want rock harder or move faster, but they both kept their pace, gradually getting to that peak that swelled and blossomed until they neared that break.

Rhythm eventually growing erratic, then faltering, Aonung hid his face- nose pressed into Lýn’s cheek as his fingers tightened their hold- in her hair at her nape, the others circling her clit. 

Ayelýn came with a soft cry and a full body spasm, trembling as she felt his warmth spread inside her. She moaned into Aonung’s mouth- his own groans accompanying hers.

Pleasure thrumming throughout her body, he continued to grind into her- drawing little aftershocks and whimpers from her. 

Both limbless and exhausted, they collapsed against the mats beneath them. 

Aonung slipped out from between her legs and Lýn made a face at the gush of mess slowly escaping her. Though, she was too worn out to care to do anything about it. Eywa, there was so much of it. 

Arm draped around her waist, Aonung kissed her forehead and whispered something she didn’t make out. She squirmed closer, and made a home in his arms, content to use a bicep as a pillow and to squish her face into the space below his shoulder.

And in the quiet of their shelter, the sounds of rolling waves lulled them into calm.

Aonung did not find rest easily that night. While Lýn slept, his thoughts plagued him. Knuckles running down her spine, he held her close… 

Something he’d never done with anyone before. 

Aongung didn’t do cuddling. 

He didn’t do soft and sweet fucking.

And he definitely didn’t do night overs.

He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping his thoughts would grow tired.

Ayelýn confused him. 

He knew he liked her. He hadn’t realized just how deep, however. The way in which this woman had wormed her way into his constant thoughts, terrified him.

A small dark part of him- a lingering remnant of the old Aonung, thought that fucking her would get her out of his system. 

They’d fucked alright, yet here he was, holding her because he still couldn’t get enough. She was no longer only in his thoughts.

She had seeped into his veins…

Into his heart.

Giving up on his inner struggle, he decided to literally give up. He was done fighting this. 

Done fighting them. 

Cupping her neck he held her to him as quiet prayers to Eywa left his lips, whispers buried into Ayelýn’s hair. 

~

When morning broke, neither of them spoke about it. 

And in the following hours that turned into days that turned to weeks, neither acknowledged the evident shift between them.  

~

Eywa. 

Please give me calm, give me strength. 

Ayelýn blew out another shaky breath. She was a nervous wreck this morning. 

Tail twitching behind her, she made yet another wrong turn along a bouncing pathway… Maybe it was deliberate? Maybe it was her body’s way of protecting her from what was to come. 

Eywa. She really didn’t want to do this.  

Throughout her journey, Lýn kept a look out for a familiar mountain of a man who she couldn’t seem to find anywhere. Of all days, this was not a day for him to be missing! 

Despite her obvious prolonging, she couldn’t stall any further or else she’d be late, and after final, futile efforts, she at least felt some ounce of relief when she spotted Aonung’s sister. 

“Tsireya!” she called out. 

“Ayelýn!” the woman chirped in pleasant surprise, walking over to meet her halfway. “Are you looking for my brother?”

“Well, yes and no. I was hoping to catch him for a moment.”

“He’s out on a hunt. Won’t be back till late.”

“Oh.” That was disappointing to hear. 

“What’s wrong?”

Lýn licked her lips and tried not to grimace. “My presence has been requested. Your mother summoned me,” she revealed. 

Tsireya appeared unaffected by the news, though she did pick up on Lýn’s nervousness. “I had a feeling this would happen eventually. I told my brother as much… He’s so stubborn,” she muttered with a fond shake of her head. 

“Why does she want to see me then? I was just told to come here.” 

“Sa'nok has been asking Aonung to have you come by for a while now and he’s been swimming around it,” Tsireya explained. “She thinks he keeps you purposely away from her and I’m guessing she’s had enough… and of course she’d choose the day he was on an all day hunt.”

“Ah. I see.” Lýn weighed her options, then, “Reya, I have no clue what to say to her… the few times we’ve interacted were- weird and awkward and honestly, I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“Lýn, trust me, you’ll be fine. She simply wants to get to know you. She did the same thing with my Lo’ak.”

That did ease away some of Ayelýn’s nerves. 

Tsireya took her hand and squeezed it in comfort. “And just a secret between you and me… if she offers you to stay for a meal with her, it means she definitely approves.”

~ 

Ayelýn tried not to squirm, but sitting before an intimidating Ronal would make just about anyone uncomfortable. 

They’d been sitting in silence ever since she’d arrived and Lýn decided to cope by focusing on her surroundings while Ronal continued to study her. After all, every nook of the Tsahìk’s marui had something curious to see. 

“What is your appointed position in your village, Ayelýn?”

Lýn startled, not only from the sudden break in their long, suffering silence, but also from the question. 

By now, it was no secret what her role in the clan was. Ayelýn had gotten her fair share of snickers and stray comments and at one feast only a couple days ago, she had to pull away a snarling Aonung when he’d overheard a group of women bad mouthing her and her scrubber status. 

The Tsahìk had also been present and seated nearby and Lýn had even caught her watching the ordeal in great interest. 

“I’m a scrubber, Tsahìk.” 

“Hm. Do you enjoy it?” 

“I don’t think anyone enjoys being a scrubber,” Lyn answered honestly. “But it is work, and I am diligent about it.” 

Ronal appeared to think before she spoke again.

“Should you have the opportunity, what would you prefer to be doing then?” 

“Oh- no, I-”

“T’is only a question, child. Won’t you humor a curious woman?”

“Ah… I- I suppose I’ve always had an interest in mending things.” Lýn held in a chuckle, remembering her first meeting with Aonung and his mortified reaction to her canoe. “Though I don’t believe I’d be any good at it given my lack of skill.”

“Skill can be easily learnt,” Ronal said, helping herself to a sip of her brewed seaweed and herb tea. “If I’m not mistaken, Hythspon is finally considering getting an apprentice- I believe you know him? Perhaps you might be interested in taking the position? I can put in a good word for you, if you’d like.”

Ayelýn sat up straighter. “Truly? I- thank you, Tsahìk… I will give it some thought.” 

“You should… It means, you’d also be closer to Aonung since you’d have to move to Awa’atlu.”

Unsure how to respond to that, Ayelýn mashed her lips together and gave a small nod. 

“My son does not realize it, but he speaks a great deal about you. I, however, am interested in getting to know the women he intends to mate and bring into our family, for myself... So tell me.” Ronal sat back expectantly. 

Lýn frowned. “What exactly would you like to know?”

“Everything, my dear. Everything. You will not be Tsahìk- since my Reya is next in line, but if and when you and my son do mate, you will be the mate of the Metkayina’s future Olo'eyktan. It is my duty to know who that woman is… So tell me, everything.”

And so, Lýn spoke as Ronal asked her question after question. 

She was asked about her family and her completed rites; Keftxo, her childhood, her likes and dislikes, what her values were and what she did in her free time. Ronal asked her what she envisioned for her future, even how many children she wanted to have.

With each question, they became more direct and personal and Ayelýn felt her walls going up and panic bubble in her chest. Her body was so rigid and tense, she had to force herself to unclench her jaw, to uncurl her tail and to give her shoulders the occasional roll. 

When requested, Ayelýn recounted the story of how she and Aonung first met and then Ronal asked her a question she had been dreading the most. 

“Aonung won’t say, but when do you believe you two will take the next step? I am keen to have the meeting of the two families. Tonowari and I have been lenient. We gave Aonung a year, it has now been almost two. I understand this must be a bit difficult for you, but… it has been long enough.”

Stunned, Ayelýn fiddled with the end of her tail, then, catching herself, she stopped. “We will discuss it, Tsahìk,” she feebly promised. 

“That is all I ask,” she said. “You may continue to court of course, there is no pressure to make the mating bond just yet.” 

Tension eased from Lýn’s shoulders at that.

“But, you have to understand, we need to know for certain whether or not this is a secure match,” she explained with surprising gentleness. 

“I understand.” 

“Good… Now tell me, Ayelýn. Are you happy in your courtship with my son? Truly?”

“Yes. He-” Lýn cleared her throat. “I am happy… He makes me happy.” 

“Hmm.” Ronal’s unwavering eyes made Lýn uncomfortable. “I must speak my mind when I say I was quite surprised by my son’s choice of you.”

Feeling another wall of guardedness shift into place, Lýn clenched her jaw. “Because I am a scrubber from Keftxo?” 

Surprise clouded Ronal’s features for a fraction of a second. “Oh goodness, no. Nothing to do with that. If anything I am baffled as to why you- a woman with her head on her shoulders- are with my Aonung- given how he can be.” 

“How he- can be? Forgive me, Tsahìk, but don’t understand.”

“Aonung is… subversive. He is wild and brash- rude. He is selfish in nature and is reckless with his life.  As his mother, I want nothing more than for him to see that he is destined to do great things.”

Lýn’s heart thundered in her chest. She should have bit her tongue but it was quicker to release. “Your son is already doing great things.”

Ronal regarded the woman before her. Gone was the fidgeting, nervous slip of a Na’vi. Ayelýn was livid. 

“You don’t agree with me?” she asked, mildly amused.

“No. No, I don’t. Aonung is defined by none of those descriptions.” 

“Oh?”

“Tsahìk, my apologies for speaking out of turn but- Aonung is bold, and kind. He is brave and he may seem selfish at times like you say but he would put his own life in danger for the help of others. He is brash and rude but he is also funny and sweet and charming- and he wants nothing more than your approval of him. He wants you and his father to see him- not as a constant disappointment but as your son…. He’s a good leader, he has heart and strength and the people love him!

“And yes he has his flaws- Don’t we all?! But he is our future Olo'eyktan- his mistakes no matter how big or small are seen as monumental in anyone else's eyes. He’s allowed to make mistakes, he’s allowed to learn from them and not have them constantly thrown back in his face... Like anyone else, he’s allowed to be forgiven…. Especially by his parents.”

Silence followed.

An awestruck appearance of realization formed on the Tsahìk’s face and Lýn braced herself for Ronal’s wrath.

“You speak with such passion for Aonung. I had not realized you were in love with my son.”

Ayelýn released a shaky breath. Not outrightly disagreeing with the statement, she didn’t correct it either. 

Since her mother’s slip of the word love a little over a month ago, she’d had sufficient time to dwell and think. 

At every attempt to reason away the absurdity, Lýn had failed. 

She was in love with Aonung. 

Through and through. 

Flaws and all. 

“We are courting, Tsahìk. Of course I care deeply for him.”

“For someone like Aonung with a commitment to his clan, courting has nothing to do with love, child. It is a path to secure a match in the end. You may care deeply, yes, but finding love in courtship for him is a gift. As leaders, courtship means duty, honor, security.”

Lýn bit her lip. She finally understood the pressures Aonung face day after day.

“Then, as a leader whose duty is for the clan- their needs, their happiness… Doesn’t Aonung deserve that too? You speak of love as this surprising gift between a match. But… can’t he just want to find love for himself?”

Ronal’s lips twitched and instead of answering, she asked her own questions. “Does my son know? Does he know how deep your feelings for him fall?”

“...No.”

“And will you tell him?”

Ayelýn’s head bowed, wordlessly answering the question. 

“Pity… Well. There is still time, no?” The Tsahìk uncovered a platter. “I am famished. Would you like to join me for lunch, Ayelýn?”

Staring stunned at the spread, when Lýn glanced up, Ronal was smiling. 

The type of smile that told Ayelýn she’d passed some kind of test. 

~

Hello friends! 💛

Firstly, I promise you, I tried so many others, but that's the title that happened to stick for this part... and on the topic, I hope the smut was alright... Hehe.

This part got way too long, so I split it into two. The next one coming out will be the final part. *Fingers Crossed*

As always, please let me know what you think.

~

Tags:@jakesullyfatjuicypeen@granddearduck@riatesullironalite@strawberri-blonde@earthling55 @innercreationflower @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop@blkmystery@neteswife@luvteyams@isnt-itstrange@erenjaegerwifee@faatxma@ivysully@bakugouswaif@pinkpantheris @mntx666@ironcaptainnataliabarnes @staymentallystable @neteyamslovrr @melsunshine

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! Thank you for the role you play in this fandom, I don't know what we would do without Aziraphale's fic library

Today I wanted to ask if you knew fics where Aziraphale and Crowley are bitter exes who end up realizing later that they haven't stopped loving the other.

Thank you 💛

Hi! We have #getting back together and #reunion tags you can check for plenty more fics like this. Here are more to add...

Even Now, I Still Love You by Zakani_Donovan (T)

It had been 6 years since Crowley had last spoken to Aziraphale, and considering their nasty little breakup, he hadn't expected their next conversation to start with them suddenly being neighbors.

Down to the River by CemeteryAngel725 (E)

Twenty-five years ago, Tony Crowley walked out of Azi’s life and broke both of their hearts. Since then, Azi has been living in suspended animation, working in the army/navy surplus booth he inherited from his dad and writing horror novels. Now Tony is back from the city, flush with success and wanting to catch up with Azi. Should Azi risk his heart and try to reclaim what they’ve lost? Or is it too late to start over?

Reason Enough by ffonippop (E)

Crowley and Aziraphale’s entire relationship spanned just a little under eleven months. If dissected, the entire affair can be categorized very neatly into three parts: a rocky beginning, a rocky middle, and a rocky end. It devastates Crowley, how something that was so promising and held so much potential could end in such a shitstorm. Diminished to nothing but a hungover, sad, and lonely stain on his couch, Crowley is left to wonder if it was always going to end this way— or if it’s ended yet at all.

Like a Martyr, Not Enough (The Decoy Bride) by vines_and_vellichor (M)

Author Aziraphale Eastlowe had been a dutiful son for the entirety of his life… mostly. After a bout of teenage rebellion, he learnt that disobedience only brings misery and heartbreak to those he cares about; it’s better for everyone to toe the line and make the most out of the plan that has been laid out for you by your family and God. When a courtship with the famous Christian singer Gabriella Archer presented an opportunity to exit the dog-eat-dog world of city life, the last thing he expected was an existence plagued by writer’s block and a wedding so enticing to the British press that the privilege of a private ceremony was tantamount to successfully teaching a duck to play the accordion. In desperation, they turn to Taddesfild, a remote island in the Outer Hebrides, to marry. Things go south when a convoluted plan by Gabriella’s agents culminates in hiring local resident Anthony J Crowley as a decoy bride to put the paparazzi off the scent. The very person Aziraphale distinctly remembered dumping nineteen years ago. The situation is less than ideal: his fiancee is missing, the island is infested with bloodthirsty photographers and he has just accidentally gotten married to his ex.

Borrowed Words by sunrisesinthesuburbs (M)

Anthony J. Crowley, best selling author, has writer's block. He could blame the Accident, but deep down he knows his block started way before. He hasn't written anything in too long, if we choose to ignore the dozens of unsent letters addressed to the angel he lost two decades ago, when he moved to New York City. When his best (and only) friend convinces him to take a little vacation in a small town in Connecticut, he expects peace and quiet. He doesn't expect to see the smile that still haunts his dreams again. Apparently, small towns are full of surprises, and how late is too late? The world stops spinning on its axis or, at the very least, Crowley stops breathing. This is absolutely impossible. He forces himself to swallow, to take a deep breath, as he doesn’t want to scare this girl off. Muriel, who is still smiling, all bright and wide and just like- Oh, God. “A bookshop, you said?” He chokes out. This is impossible, and he’s being ridiculous. He is in London, this is just a sick coincidence and his stupid brain playing stupid games. “Yes, you can see it if you turn around.” Crowley doesn’t move. “It’s called A. Z. Fell Books.” Now, the world definitely stops spinning.

Sinking Ships by AppleSeeds (E)

The world is practically on fire and it feels like nobody's doing anything about it, but Crowley's outlook brightens considerably when a new member arrives at his local climate action committee. Crowley is immediately smitten, and is thrilled when he and Aziraphale become fast friends, although he can't help but hope they might one day become something more. When all of his wishes come true, Crowley starts to feel like life couldn't possibly get any better. He can picture exactly what his future is going to look like, until something happens that feels like a powerful bolt of lightning has struck and split Crowley's life right down the middle, with everything before that moment on one side, and everything that is to come - scorched, lifeless and devastated - on the other. With the help of a counsellor, Crowley begins the difficult journey of picking up the pieces and working through what's happened. When Aziraphale unexpectedly comes back into his life, Crowley finally has the chance to get some answers, revealing that the truth is very different from what he was led to believe. Now he just needs to figure out whether that changes anything.

- Mod D

[cameronspecial]

Drew and y/n finding out she’s pregnant after trying for a couple months maybe years?

A Trying Process

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Troubles Getting Pregnant

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Masterlist

Motherhood had terrified Y/N before Drew came along. She never thought that she could be a good parent. She didn’t know anything about kids and dealing with the grosser side of parenting really didn’t appeal to her. Y/N had also never thought that she would get married before thirty, yet she found herself walking down the aisle in a white dress four years ago at twenty-two. She just knew her life was meant to be intertwined with Drew, so the decision was easy. Two years into the marriage she finally realized that having a child wouldn’t be so bad if she got to do it with him. She had been watching him play with her baby nephew when she made the decision that she was ready to take the next step in their marriage. They had love. They had the career. And they had the house. All they needed now was the laughter of a small human. 

They’ve been trying for almost two years and they are losing hope. If they couldn’t conceive in two years, they would adopt and that deadline is fast approaching. Not that adopting a child wouldn’t be the same, but it would still mean another long process and the possibility of not getting a kid is still possible. 

Y/N has been feeling off lately. Some of her favourite clothes no longer fit properly and she has been puking more often. She tries to do the math of when her last period was, realizing she skipped last month. She debates taking a test and telling Drew her suspicions. They’ve taken so many tests over the past few years that she isn’t sure she can handle getting her hopes up again. At least, they’ve never gotten a false positive before. Y/N hunches over the toilet, emptying the contents from last night’s dinner into the bowl. She’s glad that she doesn’t have work today, so she won’t be late. Drew walks into the room and kneels beside her. His hand wrap around her hair to create a ponytail. The other rubs her tummy for comfort. “You’ve been puking a lot recently. Maybe you should take another pregnancy test?” Drew suggests. Y/N’s stomach no longer holds any content, so she closes the lid and flushes the toilet. He pulls her into his hold, kissing her on the temple. She shakes her head, “I don’t know if I can take another. I feel it takes a little part of me every time it comes back negative. Maybe this is a sign, Love. Maybe I’m not meant to be a mother.”

Drew pulls her back so he can look into her eyes. “Don’t you dare say that, Sweetheart. You will absolutely make a great mother. Whether it be to a biological child or an adopted one, the kid will be lucky to have you,” Drew assures her with a kiss. “I know it’s painful whenever we get a negative, but I’m hopeful that it won’t be this time. Whatever we get, we’ll deal with it together.” His hand grips hers and he brings it to his lips. 

Y/N takes the test from under the sink. They had been stockpiling them because they’d been using so many over the past year. She doesn’t need to read the instructions; she knows them by heart. She goes through the motions of taking the test with Drew by her side and they both sit on the bathroom floor while they wait for the test to asses her status. Drew’s alarm goes off. Beep. Beep. Beep. It was now time to see if their lives were going to change forever or not. They stand up together and walk over to the counter where the test awaits. She squeezes his hand to let him know that she wants him to be the one who picks it up. His hand shakes as he brings the test up for them to look at. Pregnant.

Both soon-to-be parents look shocked at the words, not believing what they are seeing. “I’m pregnant,” Y/N states. They both turn toward each other and a grin forms on both of their faces. Drew’s hand pumps in the air, “We are going to have a baby!” His arms circle her waist and he picks her up to spin her. “We are going to be parents,” she celebrates with laughter. Drew sets her down on the ground with a kiss. His forehead places itself on hers, “I know this was a trying process, Sweetheart. But we did it.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

[tonberrykins]

Alright, I've had some time to gather more of the Veilguard Thoughts(TM), so here's another peeve.

Varric apparently wasn't going to be included in the game (at the very least, wasn't originally supposed to be an integral part) and, like, that makes sense. Dude is Viscount of Kirkwall and Seneschal Bran WILL kill him if he keeps putting that shit off on him. I've met the guy, I've seen what he's lived through, he just wants to have time off to go see Serendipity at The Blooming Rose and maybe have a nice dinner at home more than once a month. He can't do that if Varric is fucking off Maker knows where doing Andraste knows what! So, yeah, Varric ought to be Viscounting.

Thing is, Varric is a fan favorite and I am no exception to that. 12 years I've been carrying a torch for that dwarf and I was huffing so much Copium up to Veilguard's release in the hopes that I would get to smooch him it was unhealthy. Then came The Fear, but that's besides the point. What matters is Varric being a fan fave and Harding was too and therein lies the problem. They were added in because popular, but they were not integral to the story whatsoever. They were used as set dressing and not even good ones; it was literally EA/Bioware banking on fans loving these two to drive numbers against the Unknown.

"But Tonberry!" you say. "What about the whole thing with the Titans? That's Harding's whole story!"

I would like to implore you, if that's your thought process, to examine that and see how that is Not Good. Because let's be real here, Harding herself was given barely anything beyond a cute, country, gal next door personality and "Legs." Where did this fascination with dwarven ancestry come from? She makes zero mention of any of that it's just like 'Well, she's a dwarf so of course she cares!' And I would like to point at Exhibit A, Varric Tethras, who would have been MUCH MORE COMPELLING in her shoes because he clearly has nothing but disdain for dwarven tradition because of how fucked up it made his family. Don't believe me? Replay DA2 and LISTEN. But they fridged him for Emotional Points just like they stupidly did to Shathann (but that's another rant for another day.)

So, if Harding has no logically presented reason for her story arc to be what it is and really was just there for appeasement, then who would have filled her shoes? Dagna is a FANTASTIC choice for one. She's into magic, studies it, so many people have it headcanoned that she made their Quizzy's prosthetic that it could have been easily adopted into canon and no one would have batted an eye. But you wanna know the BEST choice? And one we still could have had Harding around for bc they would have needed a bodyguard anyway?

MUH-FUCKIN' SANDAL FEDDIC!

It has been implied since Origins that he is a dwarf--THE ONLY DWARF--to be able to use magic. This continued into 2 where he also had a weird prophetic monologue before going back to "Enchantment!" because didn't want to scare his dad. And since he and Bodahn were clearly supposed to be in Celene's court in Inquisition we could have found out what happened and gotten him back for the storyline AND still let Harding have her time to shine because who better to help him through the Titans' anger than someone who'd been with him through these recent discoveries and had formed a bond? Too, it's that innate love of people and the world around her that could have helped him form that tether to others, too, or however you'd like to spin it but no.

So, yeah, I'm pissed that Harding turned into a Nothing Burger in the end and that Varric was weaponized against players, SPECIFICALLY ones like me who have loved him since his first appearance. Our hopes were used against us in this entire game and I am now Lot's wife with how salty I am over it.

[sufferu]

Writing fluff is surprisingly difficult for me but here’s an attempt lmao

BTZ I Ficlet: Julius Is A Dick

____

“Subaru. For the last time. STOP SNEAKING INTO OUR CARRIAGES!”

Ricardo’s roar echoed through the clearing, instantly catching the attention of everyone in the area.

Subaru could feel his cheeks burning, but he didn’t back down. “Why can’t I come with you?!” he demanded. “I can help, I know I can!”

“Subaru, this is the third time this month!” Subaru scowled at the sound of Julius’ voice, the knight stalking closer from where he had been talking to the little kitty mercenaries a moment before. If they can let EIGHT-YEAR-OLDS accompany them on these missions, then surely—! “Were you really trying to stowaway again? You know better than this!”

“What‘s it to you?!” Subaru retorted, crossing his arms and trying not to feel ashamed of himself. “Just let me go, I know I can handle it!”

“Ya can’t even sneak into one of our carriages without being noticed,” Ricardo pointed out.

“I-I almost did!”

“That’s a bit of a problem,” Julius said wryly. “Perhaps we should put a bell on this one, if he keeps trying to sneak into places he knows he’s not supposed to be.” The knight poked his side. Subaru squeaked, spinning around to bat his hand away with a scowl.

Julius paused. As Subaru didn’t care even slightly what that bastard thought about anything, he turned back to keeps arguing with Ricardo. “I know I can help!” he insisted. “I just — haven’t had a chance to show it yet! If you would just give me a chance to prove myself—”

“Subaru.”

“Kid, we know enough about this entire situation to know that bringing you along would be more of a hassle than a help,” the mercenary retorted. Subaru flinched slightly. “All of us are better off if you just stay here. We’ll be in and out before you know it.”

“You don’t know that!” Subaru protested.

“I know a lot more than you think I do, believe it or not,” Ricardo countered. “And in any case, didn’t ya give any thought to how Wilhelm would feel about us dragging you off all of a sudden?”

Wilhelm would probably be thrilled if Subaru got killed off: at least he’d stop being such a nuisance every morning. Subaru shook his head. That was why he had to prove himself, that’s all. “Who cares what he thinks about it?!” he argued. Ricardo stared at him, looking somewhat aghast. “I’ll come right back, and then he’ll see that—”

“Hey, Subaru.”

“What?” Subaru snapped, turning on his heel to glower at the knight. “Don’t tell me that YOU think—”

Julius’ raised hands were forming claw shapes, his fingers wiggling threateningly. An unusually blatant evil smirk had spread across his face.

Subaru froze.

Julius took one step forward, and Subaru immediately turned and bolted across the grounds of the Estate.

*

“Are you really going to be giving me the silent treatment for the rest of the day??”

The man had chased him all around the gardens, staying just a few feet behind Subaru no matter how fast he ran and finding every hiding spot no matter where he tried to duck for cover. He could have just grabbed him at the very start and gotten it over with, but instead he had waited until Subaru had exhausted himself before dragging him into his lap and tearing him to pieces.

“Oh come on, I know you were having fun!” Julius poked him in the side. Subaru almost completely lost his composure, spinning around in his seat to frantically bat away the man’s hand so quickly that he nearly fell out of his chair entirely. Ferris snorted loudly, giggling at the display. “Don’t try to put on a grumpy face NOW…”

“Shut up!” Subaru snapped.

“Nya really wannya go out of nyer way to provoke him again this soon, Subaru-kyun?” Ferris teased. Subaru stiffened. “Are nyew nyever satisfied?”

“I mean,” Julius said, reaching for him again. “If you still want to play…”

“No!” Subaru retorted, batting his hand angrily. “Go away, asshole!” Ferris cackled.

Julius sighed, standing up. “I’ll leave you to your lessons, then,” he said. “Come on, Ferris.”

“Right, right…”

And then Subaru and Joshua were alone.

“I hate your brother,” Subaru muttered.

“My brother is the most incredible knight in the kingdom of Lugunica,” Joshua scoffed. “Not recognizing his brilliance is a sign of your poor taste.”

Subaru didn’t say anything back, scowling down at the table.

Joshua lowered his own book curiously. “…What did he do?” he asked.

Subaru didn’t want to answer that. Either fortunately or unfortunately, he didn’t have to.

“Your friend is mad because your brother tickled him senseless,” one of the knights who had been watching the entire event laughed, perusing a bookshelf nearby. “He sure didn’t make it easy, though! Had to chase him across the courtyard and everything…”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!!” Red-eared, scarlet-faced, and frantically waving for the knight to stop recounting that humiliating series of events, Subaru resignedly waited for Joshua to start mocking him right alongside everyone else.

But instead—

“I HATE it when he does that!” Joshua hissed, an embarrassed flush of his own spreading across his cheeks. Subaru blinked. “He’s such a jerk when he gets like that!”

Subaru suddenly remembered with newfound clarity that Joshua was Julius’ little brother.

“I-I mean—” Joshua coughed into his fist, his blush deepening. “My brother is a brilliant and merciful man. I-If you fail to understand that, then that is your own fault.”

Subaru took that lie for what it was, and the two of them stewed silently together in their mutual agreement.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 16 - Puddle

@jegulus-microfic June 16, Word count 837

Previous part First part

He watched James and his brother run off into the crowd towards the biggest ride at the fun fair. A soft chuckle from Effie reminded him that James had just left him with his parents. At least he had Remus still. He turned his head to check and his brother’s boyfriend was slowly trying to back away unseen. Regulus shot his hand out and grabbed him by the forearm, giving him a warning look, daring him to try and leave him alone with the Potter’s. 

“Effie my darling, I can see a teddy bear with your name on it,” Monty crooned at his wife, linking her arm and walking her away from them. “See you later, boys,” He winked over his shoulder as he and Effie disappeared towards the prize games. Regulus felt a sudden warmth for the elder Mr Potter.  

“What was that Lupin?” Regulus hissed as he turned on Remus, dropping his arm. “You were totally about to abandon me,”

“Hey, they're your in-laws, not mine,” Remus joked at him. Regulus raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, judging how well my brother gets on with James and his parents, my guess is soon you won’t be able to make that claim,” Joking with Remus was quickly becoming one of Regulus’s favourite things to do. “Besides, I thought you were taking me on a date. Not a great start, leaving me to the wolves when we've barely gotten through the entrance.” Remus snorted and rolling his eyes, linked Regulus’s arm much the same way Monty had Effie’s and walked him into the fair.

“So what shall we go on first?” Remus asked, turning his head to look around the place. 

“Waltzers, obviously,” Regulus drawled. Remus, having spotted them, pulled Regulus along to wait in the queue. They sat beside each other in the small space and waited for the operator to come around and check that all the doors were closed before he set them going. Regulus grabbed hold of the wheel in front of him and Remus copied his actions. 

A sudden jerk had Regulus bashing into Remus’s side before the ride started moving. Their car began to slowly turn, gaining speed with each rotation of the floor beneath them. Remus gave Regulus a wicked grin and turned the wheel they were holding, increasing their speed. Regulus accepting the challenge helped spin it too. 

Soon they were spinning faster than any of the other cars and showed no signs of stopping. They spun the wheel as much as they could before the main floor began to slow. Their car refused to stop, and the operator had to grab hold of it and yank it to a stop. Remus flew onto Regulus, pinning him on his seat. They exited and thanked the man as the world around them continued to spin, laughing their heads off. 

“Candy floss,” Remus barked and pointed at a stand. It was Regulus’s turn to grab him and drag him away. The kind lady sticking sticks into the machine and floating candy floss onto them happily added double the amount to the sticks for the smiling pair. Regulus was sure it would spoil their dinner, but at that moment he didn’t care he wanted the sweets. 

He took a bite and savoured the sweet sugar as it dissolved into a puddle on his tongue before he swallowed it. He was about to take a second bite when he saw his brother tear past him. 

“Hi, love!” James called over his shoulder as he chased after Sirius. Regulus tutted at them before releasing a groaning when he saw Effie and Monty making their way towards him and Remus. He plastered a smile on his face and gave them a little wave. 

James’s parents were torturing him on purpose. There was no need to describe the way a chocolate cake oozes in the amount of detail that Monty Potter had. He’d finally been forced to send a message to James begging him to hurry up when Monty had begun to describe how he had slathered the ganache over the cake and spun it under his palate knife to smooth it over the entire cake. He stole a glance at Remus, whose facial expressions screamed with ravenous hunger. 

“Oh, where are those two?” Effie grumbled over the missing boys. She turned to Regulus. “Darling, would you be terribly upset if Monty and I headed back to the house? I need to finish up a few things for dinner, or we won’t eat until midnight,” Effie asked him. He nodded furiously. 

“Of course, Effie. Go ahead. We’ll wait for Sirius and James,” She smiled at him warmly and pecked him on the cheek before bravely moving on to Remus. Regulus had been worried about the woman for a split second as Remus was still glassy-eyed at the thought of the mouthwatering food waiting for them. 

No sooner had the Potters driven off, than James and Sirius came bounding into view, both carrying huge stuffed animals and beaming madly. 

Next part