#platonic savage

[lune-de-miel-au-paradis]

This is amazing! I'm already excited to read this! 💖✨️Finally a fic where the female is quite a powerful one. I love the dynamic between her and savage ! He is so adorable worrying. And the rancor move was genius. Probably I would done the same 😅🤭

The New Apprentice Part 1

Maul x Sith!Reader 

A/N: Au where Mother Talzin gives Maul his legs back instead of cybernetics cause why not she’s a God damn necromancer witch queen. Takes place after Savage and Maul are united but Maul trains Savage for a while instead of going all out right away like Canon dictates in the show.

Summary: Maul senses the presence of a force user who is strong with the dark side. Desperate for any alliance he can gain to destroy both the Sith and the Jedi he sets out to gain a second apprentice with his brother at his side.

Word Count: 3868

WARNINGS: depictions of slavery, abuse, reader is bound, violence. I’m gonna wreck canon in this series.

NEXT         MASTERLIST

      A crimson Zabrak male stood before an expansive viewport on the separatist space station he and his brother had infiltrated and overpowered. Savage, the much larger of the two brothers, grunted happily at the abundance of wealth he had found locked in a safe. Maul’s stoic form didn’t waver at this realization. Instead, he closed his eyes, something gnawed at him.

“Brother, what is it?”

Keep reading

[confoodles]

Every single interaction Charles and Oliver had this episode was so unrequited romance coded and I will not be taking criticism !!

[itsabouttimex2]

A Brand New Journey:

Part Five

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six)

Macaque has always been so good to you. Even from the first day you accidentally stumbled onto him, he had been kind.

Your arm had been gashed open by an unfortunate fall, dripping blood and throbbing in pain with each shaky step forward. Although you had hoped to get home before dark and patch yourself up with an ever dwindling first-aid kit, praying that there were enough bandages and antiseptic left for the wound.

But then there were two sets of footsteps close behind, spurring you to disregard caution and start sprinting down the street-

Whereupon you had bumped into one very strange demon, wearing an inconspicuous ru and sporting a tattered scarf.

“Going somewhere, kiddo? You shouldn’t be in such a rush, you now. You might get hurt. Ah, but…”

His hand then shot forward to clamp around your wrist, turning it over to examine your bleeding forearm.

“Looks like you already did, huh? Here, let me just…”

Rip. Shriiiip.

The precise shredding of thick fabric, his clawed fingers cutting a rectangular strip from the already ragged scarf. He had placed one end on your wrist, then gave you a strange grin.

“Hang in there, kiddo.” The simian warned you almost too late, given barely a second to brace for the stinging pain of having a wound forcibly bound shut with naught but pressure and cloth.

Biting back a wail and a set of fresh tears, you watched the monkey demon firmly tie off the end of the makeshift bandage.

It had been such a simple thing to do- but you still cherished him for it all the same.

How you’ve come to cherish your precious mentor, who stares down at you now with a strange smile.

Lifting a sleeve to your puffy eyes, an effort is made to stand up- only for Macaque to push you back down.

“I don’t think you’re steady enough for that just yet, kiddo.” Base words to convince you to do as he says, and you believe him. You always do.

Have you ever not believed him? Even for a moment, has there ever been any doubt in your heart?

He wraps the crimson scarf a little tighter around you, making sure that it covers your shoulders and neck.

“Now, what’d you bring all the way out here? You really should know better than to carry such a fancy bag in a neighborhood like this, kiddo.”

Was this all your fault?

Maybe you should’ve wrapped the mooncakes up in something less appealing- grabbed one of the disposable plastic brown sacks from a grocery store before heading in.

How easy would that have been?

“I wanted to share a meal with you,” is the dull response you give, newly downcast and despondent. “I brought mooncakes and tea.”

“Aww, aren’t you just a gem? Just the nicest.”

Nice. Anyone can be nice, can’t they? But it’s a lot harder to be clever or strong or capable.

Maybe he’d be happier with a different student.

Maybe if you were less nice and more-

“C’mon, kiddo- are you eating or not?”

He’s already got everything ready, the mooncakes strewn across his coffee table, the bottles of tea in the microwave.

Strange. You never even saw him get up.

He notices your questioning eyes, and quickly shifts the subject.

“Real sweet of you to bring this all the way out- I’m guessing you got a good deal, if you brought all of this?”

“Y-yeah! Yeah, I, uh, I’ve been using an app that tells me about local deals, y’know? Saves some money, and, um, all that.”

“Smart,” he praises, and a rush of euphoria races through you at just that one word. It feels almost pathetic to rely so heavily on someone’s praise to feel good about yourself. Still, you can’t help but adore each moment he breaks from his reserved norm and drops an honest compliment.

“Go put your stuff up and get changed, kiddo. I’ll pour the tea and get cushions.”

An actual sit-down meal with your mentor! You wouldn’t just be snacking and chatting on the couch this time!

Jumping to your feet, you excitedly race to the guest room, painted in a smooth purple and decorated with black curtains. He had essentially given it to you, letting you settle in with him at least semi-permanently.

A shelf right next to your bed is stocked with mementos, most of them memories you’ve shared with Macaque. A little snap-together set you had convinced him to put together with you, a bright mecha built from colorful blocks. By the end of the build, you had learned that he’d much rather watch than try to fiddle pieces together with his claws.

A framed photo beside it of something that Macaque had enjoyed much more- pumpkin carving. In place of a serrated knife or design card, he had taken great joy in simply shredding precise diamonds into the thick orange hide of the vegetable. The carved gourd had looked something like a lantern by the end of his fun. It had even put him a good enough mood to allow for a photo to be taken.

And you had a photo of you, MK, and Mister Pigsy to put up, but-

Enough reminiscing! Your mentor is waiting for you, after all.

You throw on the coziest thing you have in the closet- an old nightgown, long abraded to softness. Black as night and cool to the touch, decorated with purple cloud embroidery. And it never seemed to stop smelling of plums, a scent you had grown familiar with very quickly.

You aren’t quite sure where it came from, or when you got it- just that it’s a few sizes too big and pools around you comfortably.

Shoes off, bag placed carefully in the corner, and then you’re racing back out to meet Macaque in the living room.

You don’t notice two golden-eyed figures slinking out of the shadows and into your room.

The coffee table is prepared, the bottled tea is poured into mugs and the mooncakes are laid out two by two. He’s even put your little sitting cushion beside his instead of across.

You quickly take your seat, Macaque’s hand coming to ruffle your hair.

“Are we ‘expanding my horizons’ again today, kiddo? An ice cream day wasn’t enough?”

“I want you to try nice things,” is your protest, causing his golden eyes to soften.

“That’s… sweet of you,” he admits, folding his arms. “Really, Y/N.”

“…yeah,” you awkwardly respond, grabbing one of the napkins Macaque had set out. You grab one of the mooncakes and wrap it, then pass it to your mentor. “Do you, uh, know what’s inside this one?”

The sable simian lifts the pastry to his nose, sniffing intently. Quickly, his face scrunches up. “Tsk. More ice cream? Not in all of them, I’m hoping. Unless you’re trying to give me cavities, kiddo.”

“No, there’s only four with ice cream- and we’ve got two of them right now. I know you don’t like your food too sweet.”

“You’re a good kid,” he chuckles, biting into the mooncake. Vanilla ice cream leaks from the middle, oozing onto his tongue.

In turn you munch on your own, slowly leaning your head onto his shoulder.

Macaque doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your form, yanking you closer.

“You’re a good kid,” he says again, an ancient look in his golden eyes. There’s a newfound contentedness in them, and a pang of something much darker boiling underneath that new satisfaction. “Mind if I ask you a question?”

Swallowing down the last bit of the sweet pastry, you nod. “Sure, Macaque.”

“Nothing big- just I wanna know how you feel about me, kiddo.”

…something is scraping around in the room Macaque has fixed up for you.

“Keep looking,” a quiet and steady voice says. “They wouldn’t have just left it anywhere.”

“Shut up,” another angrily returns. “Don’t tell me what to do, Rumble! You’re lucky that I’m even helping you!”

“…you’re the one who wanted to come in here and look, Savage.”

“Shut up! Hurry up and throw me their bag!”

With a groan, Rumble carries your backpack to his ‘brother’ and drops it in front of him.

“Be quick,” he cautiously reminds. “Those mooncakes won’t last forever.”

“…I didn’t find the book,” Savage snarls, his crimson fingers hitting glass.

“But I did find something.”

And slowly, he pulls out the photo of you and your friends.

[xiao-zhen]

Words Better Left Unread, or Is It? - Part II ☆

Part I Part III Part IV

Part III will be out soon! (I only realized now I'm pretty sure I've been writing Rumble's name wrong and as Ramble, so no one complains. . . .I know, but I won't be spending time to fix it. I'm a full-time college student! 😭)

Meanwhile, Wukong sat on the couch, lazily watching Monkey Cop on the TV and munching on some peach chips as he often did. He was in a comfortable state, carefree and relaxed, when suddenly a shadow appeared on the wall in front of him. Wukong looked up at the shadow, curious and slightly confused. It was a familiar shape, a shadow clone of Savage, to be precise.

Wukong's eyes widened as he recognized Savage's shadow. Memories of the past came flooding back, and he sat up, suddenly alert. He hadn't seen her in years, not since the long-ago battle. Seeing her shadow now brought a mixture of surprise and curiosity. His interest peaked as he could see that she was holding something in her hand.

Savage emerged from the shadows, appearing in front of Wukong with a dramatic flair. She held the letter in her hands and smirked, her eyes filled with mischief.

"Delivery for the Great Sage Equal to Heaven!”

Wukong froze, his eyes widening as he realized what Savage was holding. A letter from Macaque. He couldn't believe it. Macaque had never sent him a letter before, not in all the years since their separation.

Wukong sat up on the couch, his curiosity growing as he took in the sight of the letter in Savage's hands.

"He... he sent a letter? To me?”

Wukong couldn't help but feel a mixture of surprise and anticipation. He had never expected Macaque to reach out to him like this, not after everything that had happened between them. He extended his hand, motioning for Savage to give him the letter. Savage smirked, clearly enjoying the suspense. She held the letter just out of Wukong's reach, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.”

”Not so fast, Monkey King. There’s something you must know about this letter first.” Savage chuckled, leaning against the wall nonchalantly. She twirled the letter between her fingers, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Well, the letter you're about to read... it's not exactly from Macaque directly. You see, it was never meant to be sent.” Wukong's brows furrowed. His confusion grew. So, the letter wasn't actually sent by Macaque but was never meant to be sent? He was even more perplexed now.

"....Not directly from Macaque, but never meant to be sent? What do you mean by that?” Savage chuckled again, clearly enjoying the fact that she had all the answers. She continued tapping the letter against her fingers, her smirk growing.

"The letter was written by Macaque, yes, but he never intended to send it. It's more like a personal diary entry—something he wrote to express his thoughts and feelings, no one was ever supposed to read.” Understanding dawned on Wukong's face, as the pieces began to fit together. The letter was an intimate glimpse into Macaque's thoughts and feelings, something he had never intended to share with anyone, especially not Wukong.

"I see…a personal diary entry," he muttered, still slightly in shock. "But how did you come into possession of it?”

Savage shrugged nonchalantly, a sly smile on her face. “Well, you know how it is. Shadows have a tendency to wander where they're not supposed to be, gathering information they're not supposed to have. We just happened to stumble upon the letter when Macaque wasn’t looking.”

Wukong shook his head, a mix of disbelief and surprise on his face. It seemed that Savage and Ramble had indeed discovered the letter by chance, a turn of events he hadn't expected. "So, you managed to intercept a letter never meant to be sent? And now you've brought it to me, why?”

Savage rolled her eyes, as if Wukong's question was obvious.

"Why, for entertainment, of course. We knew it would be interesting seeing what's penned in the letter. And, let's be honest, it's not every day we get a chance to stir up some drama between two legendary monkeys, is it?” Wukong's wariness only seemed to increase as Savage spoke. He knew Savage was never to be trusted. So he was still hesitant.

"And what's to stop me from assuming this is some kind of ploy? A letter never to be sent, suddenly brought to me by two mischievous shadows.”

Savage chuckled, finding Wukong's skepticism amusing. "Oh, Monkey King, always so paranoid. What's in the letter is all genuine. We might be mischievous, but we wouldn't go to the trouble of writing a fake letter. Besides, where's the fun in that?”

Wukong's curiosity was now overshadowed by his unease. The fact that Macaque never intended to send the letter stirred up mixed feelings within him. What could it contain that Macaque had no plans to send to him? He looked at the letter in Savage's hands, hesitating.

"So... what's inside the letter, then? What did he write?” Savage smirked, her mischievous nature showing through once more.

"Oh, all sorts of things. Thoughts, feelings, reflections, you name it. This letter is a raw look into the mind and heart of your dear old friend Macaque. Are you sure you want to read it?”

Wukong paused, his gaze flickered between the letter and Savage. He knew it would be crossing a boundary by reading Macaque's personal thoughts, but the curiosity and guilt he felt were too strong to ignore.

"....Yes," he said quietly. "I want to read it.” Savage's smirk widened as Wukong agreed to read the letter, clearly pleased with his response.

"Very well, Monkey King, let's see what secrets your old friend has in store for you." She extended her hand, offering the letter to him. Wukong took a deep breath, his heart racing. Carefully, he took the letter from Savage, the paper slightly crinkling in his hands. He looked down at the letter, his eyes scanning the words written in Macaque's familiar handwriting.

Wukong gently unfolded the letter, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. He began to read, his eyes running across the lines of Macaque's words. The text filled his mind, images and emotions flashing through his thoughts. With each word, Wukong felt a pang of regret and guilt. It was as if Macaque's voice was speaking directly to him, words that he had probably never intended for him to read. The letter was raw, unfiltered, a direct insight into the pain and emotional turmoil that Macaque had experienced.

Wukong's eyes widened as he read the words.

"Pulled from the grave... Forced into a contract I never agreed to..."

The realization hit him hard. Macaque had been unwillingly resurrected and forced into a situation he never chose. It was a revelation that sent a wave of guilt and shock through him. His thoughts raced as he continued to read, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

Wukong’s heart sank as he read further. The lines about Macaque's hesitation around the kid, the doubts about being who he once was... It felt like a dagger to the heart.

“The kid, Mk, believes I am still the warrior I used to be. I wish I could be that person again, but those days are behind me now.”

Wukong's heart clenched at the words. The realization that Mk believed Macaque was still the same warrior he used to be, and the pain in Macaque's voice when he expressed the wish to be that person again...it was like a punch to the gut. He could almost hear Macaque's words, the sadness and regret in them. It was a stark reminder of the divide between who Macaque once was and who he had become.

Wukong remembered the old Macaque. The one he had known before everything had fallen apart. The words stung with the weight of regret and pain. He couldn’t believe Macaque was still holding onto all this. Wukong's expression was a mixture of guilt and sadness. The words on the page seemed to paint a picture of Macaque's struggle, his attempts to be the person he once was. It was crushing to read, knowing that Macaque had been fighting a battle of identity all this time. He continued reading, his eyes scanning the page as the next lines hit him even harder.

Wukong's shoulders slumped as he read Macaque's words. The raw honesty and vulnerability in his writing made his heart ache.*

"The way we used to be... the friends, the sworn brothers..."

Wukong's mind was flooded with memories of the past, of the bond they had once shared as hero and warrior. It filled him with a deep sense of remorse, knowing how he had destroyed it all. The letter continued, Macaque's words cutting deeper into Wukong's soul with every line. The mention of the past, of their friendship, and the pain it caused... It was all too much for him to bear. He couldn't help but feel a mixture of sadness and guilt as he read on, the weight of his actions during Macaque's original death and resurrection weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Wukong's eyes widened further as he read the next lines. Macaque's fears, the echoes of Peng's words in his mind... It all painted a picture of a monkey in torment, grappling with his emotions and insecurities.

The word 'pathetic' cut deep into Wukong's heart. Macaque's self-deprecation was too painful for him to read.

“First, I got stuck in debt I didn't expect, feeling the pain of being pulled back from the brink, only to realize I was blinded in one eye—something I could never regain. This betrayal came from you, my best friend, someone I trusted. What would I even do if you ever apologized? Why do I still care?” Wukong's stomach twisted as he read Macaque's pained account. The mention of the debt, the lost eye, the sense of betrayal... Each sentence was a dagger to his heart.

As he read Macaque's words about caring, a deep sense of guilt washed over him. Macaque's feelings for him still seemed to linger, even amidst all the pain. Wukong's hand clenched around the paper as he continued reading, the weight of his friend's torment heavy on his heart.

Each word on the page hit Wukong harder than the last. The pain of Macaque's blindness, the direct result of his attack…His heart ached as he continued to read, the image of Macaque's injured eye vividly etched in his mind. The guilt grew heavier as he absorbed the reality of what he had done, the extent of the pain he had inflicted on his once-best friend.

“You never apologized, but then again, neither did I.”

Wukong remembered that line well. The unspoken truth in it. Neither of them had taken the first step to acknowledge their pain and make amends. Wukong felt a pang of regret as he read it again. The longer he read, the more he realized the depth of their unresolved tension and pain. Wukong looked up, noticing that Savage was no longer there. She had likely slipped away, leaving him alone with the letter and his thoughts. He sat there for a moment, the silence of the room filling the air. He looked down at the letter in his hands, its contents still fresh in his mind. The weight of Macaque's words, his pain and longing... It was overwhelming.

Wukong's heart ached as he read the last line. The fact that Macaque was questioning his own feelings... it was clear that he had mixed emotions towards him, that he was struggling with the hurt and the bond they once shared.

"Why am I questioning whether I truly hate you…”

Wukong's mind raced as he read those words, filled with a sense of sadness and regret. Macaque's conflict and confusion were palpable.

Wukong sat there, the letter in his hands, contemplating his next move. The words he had just read played over and over in his mind, each one filled with pain, regret, and confusion. He knew he couldn't just ignore what he had just read. The knowledge of Macaque's true feelings, the turmoil and the question of whether he hated him or not... It all weighed heavily on his heart. He took a deep breath, trying to process all the emotions coursing through him. The silence of the room was deafening, his thoughts swirling in his mind. He knew what he had to do. He had to confront Macaque, to address the pain and the unsaid feelings between them.

Wukong's expression furrowed as he thought about MK's request. He knew his successor wanted Macaque's help controlling his kaiju form, and he also know that Macaque, despite everything, had agreed. The realization was strange. Macaque, despite the anger and hurt between them, had still agreed to mentor MK during his training.

Wukong pondered Macaque's decision to show up for MK's training. The question of what would happen if Macaque knew that he had read the letter was weighing heavily on his mind.

Would Macaque come? Or would he avoid him? The uncertainty left Wukong feeling unsettled, his thoughts filled with mixed emotions and tension as the day of the training approached.

As the night ticked by, Wukong tossed and turned, unable to find sleep. His mind was racing with thoughts of Macaque, of the letter, and the upcoming training session. The hours seemed to drag on, each one filled with uncertainty and unease.

Macaque was also struggling to find sleep that night. The knowledge of the letter, the thoughts of Wukong and the upcoming training session all weighed heavily on his mind. He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

As the night faded into a new day, Macaque lay in bed, still wrestling with the decision of whether to go to MK's training session or not. The knowledge that Wukong would be there added an extra layer of complication to the situation. He knew it would be awkward, maybe even tense. He sighed, his mind still undecided as the day began.

[autistic-fool-with-ideas]

Tfw you realize you’ve been coparenting with your rival/ex bff

[dc-tournaments]

Why do they deserve to win?

Beast Boy & Cyborg

Scandal Savage & Bane

[homobuckybarnes]

I just finished reading the monsters of Verity series like 10 mins ago and immediately came to tumblr (how else would I deal with that ending??) and I keep seeing people say they don’t like the August/ Kate kiss because it felt like it was forcing a romantic relationship and I didn’t even think of the fact it could be seen as a romantic thing.

That was two sad, angry, hurt and scared people wanting to not feel any of that for 10 mins by just making out. Platonically. And that makes so much sense in my head. I don’t know how to explain it but it just makes so much sense that they are just friends that do that

[env0writes]

NaPoWriMo Vol. 3, 4.2.24 “Will I Remember This Time“

There were not enough moments Captured in sand-grain, steel-handed Red-light-digital-clocked moments To which I told you (all) I loved you Those moments, seconds, minutes, hours, days Passed At last, these days I never told you (all) I loved you Will I recall If you Recall To say to you (all) I love you Although you’re far and plenty few I try to say, to show, I love you

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artists!   Photo by my friend Mika

[floretskybright]

Feral Macaque AU

I had another idea for a lmk au

When they were young Macaque was good hearted while Wukong was kinda the bad one

Wukong was only nice to the monkeys and who he considered his friends and didn't have problems with being cruel or murderous to those who weren't and that pissed him off (which was easy to do)

Macaque was the most soft hearted of the two , he might not put his trust blindly to strangers like a naive fool but he isn't heartless or uncaring to people in need that deserved help

And that's the exact reason Macaque was a target for bullying , mockery and insults by the other demons

Even with Wukong's protection it only gave the others another reason to consider him weak

Wukong was Macaque's only friend and that's why Mac was so scared of losing him but eventually they fought while Wukong was trapped under the mountain sealed by Buddha and Macaque was very emotionally hurt

When Wukong joined the journery to the west Macaque got worried and thought about saving him despite still being somewhat hurt and mad at Wukong but it lead to his death instead

Macaque was furious , Wukong was the bad one , the one killing and doing whatever he wanted but got a chance to be better while he died mistaken to be a bloodthirsty monster out for the monk's blood

Macaque decided , if they thought of him as monster then he will gave them a monster

Then Lbd came and resurrected him but didn't know much of the "monster" she was dealing with

Macaque has gone feral and Lbd had to take precautions to use him

She caged him and leashed him but he would still not obey her , trying to escape and causing a rampage destroying and killing her servants with bare hands

She then used the monkey's insticts to gave him a reason to somewhat stay put for a while so she gave him Rumble and Savage to protect and care for and as a reason to obey her orders if he doesn't want them to get hurt

Eventually Mk strumbled across them and freed them and would later struggle to help and befriend three feral monkeys and try to avoid them going out for a rampage

Wukong gets involved to keep them on flower fruit mountain so they don't kill anyone and he has to try to reason with Macaque for him to return civil and maybe reconcile (by MK's request)

Shadowpeach can be platonic , romantic or simply friendship

[codenameredkrystalmatrix]

Standing Sentinel

Blinding white and brilliant gold cut through the droids, putting an end to the Separatist operations on the planet. Two Zabraks raced up the outpost’s central control tower, setting charges and blowing through the opposition they faced.

The server coordinator, a very-much organic Rodian, shrieked when he saw the pair. Instead of killing him, Savage roared in his face and sent him scrambling.

"You've clearly gone soft, brother."

Savage shook his head. The The pair Force-jumped back to their ship and manned the guns.

“You took your time!” Feral dropped his visor and fired up the engines.

“Hmph. Your trial combat results clearly evidence your superiority. Now, I request your best attempt at Plo Koon’s record.”

"Yes, Commander Maul, sir!"

That statement was met with a groan. Taking off, the trio cleared the atmosphere with ships hot on their heels. A TIE-fighter glided in alongside them and gave cover fire.

“Someone rang?” Anakin’s voice came over the com-channel.

“Not in this star system!” Feral replied, smiling.

“You seem chipper, Skywalker.” Savage pivoted his battlestation hard left and disposed of two cruisers. A gunship entered the fray. Feral’s eyes narrowed, fixated on the viewport. He executed a barrel roll and swooped to avoid the fire.

“Nice! I’ll take it from here.”

Maul noticed how he loosened and beamed at the praise. Anakin’s ship effected an all-angles orbit, forming a defensive perimeter and taking enemy after enemy out of commission. They cleared the formation and made the jump into hyperspace.

At last, Chandrila and the outline of the Jedi outpost came into view. Obi-wan met them upon landing. He bade Maul speak with him privately, and his brothers peeled off to remain outside. Excited shouts filed the air as the younglings who had been outside spied them.

"Master Kenobi."

The man shook his head. Maul would not be himself without some degree of sarcasm. However, Obi-wan detected none of the true bite that would have lurked under it all those cycles ago. "Your margins of error grow slim."

"Simply the price of ascension in any order- much more so this one."

"We can send in support troops at any time. Do not hesitate to ask for what is yours by right."

"My gratitude, Kenobi. But you know the stores are better spent in recovery eff-"

"I was informed of the Garel incident."

Maul was silent. He'd spent almost a week in a bacta tank for the infections sustained. Perhaps an echo of his past life, but he'd never even considered contacting the Temple for backup or a medical supply drop. More than that, he half-expected they wouldn't. It would be an effective method of disposing of a liability. If there was one thing he could respect, it was efficiency. That made their seeming mercy all the more unsettling. Kindnesses extended themselves despite the fearful looks in some of their eyes. Despite the pain in Kenobi's even as he reached a hand to his former enemy. Those reserves of self-control were something of marvel to the Zabrak...

"How, Kenobi?"

The man’s brow arched. "The Council communication channels do have some useful information, if you'd lower yourself so much as to listen in."

Maul shook his head, the ghost of a smirk on his face. He'd let the misinterpretation stand. "I'd consider if they release an advisory on the trimming of unseemly facial hair."

"It has clearly been too long since our last duel!"

On exiting, he could see Feral and Anakin chasing the squealing children, gently Force-throwing them back and forth. Savage, expression devoid of strain, was letting some swing from his arms and sit on his shoulders. The scars of all three peeked through their robes as they flowed with the breeze. May the elders bear those marks, so the young ones did not have to.

Lying on the grass, he cast his eyes to the skyline and let himself slip- not quite meditating, but not quite conscious either. The Force bubbled with energetic pops from the little lives about. There was easy warmth from Savage that slowly bloomed in the fields of the metaphysical. He felt the relieved playfulness of Feral bounding from the remains of a fearful shell. He sensed the tumultuous roar of Anakin's fervour and Kenobi's darting, sagely mischief. And beyond them, his body sensed the dance of dozens, hundreds of the living. His weary spirit soared, reminded of for who-!

Feral flopped onto his stomach, followed by a giggling, squirming pile that knocked the air out of his body. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Savage smirk while taking a seat. Maul tried his best to scowl at the interruption.

The setting sun brought calm and appreciation for what he had now. The winds brought refreshment instead of the stench of corpses. No longer would he drift off plagued with a bloody fantasy he was not sure he'd realize.

Anakin and Obi-wan exchanged looks. He'd finally begun to see that which the Dark Side could never have given. True purpose and contentment had at last reached the brothers three. For they were now Maul, Feral and Savage Opress- Jedi Sentinels in the service of the Order and the galaxy.

[hag-lad]

Gojira’s specialities:

Disturbingly tight riffs

Bludgeoning, violent drum sounds

Heart-shatteringly beautiful extended outros tacked onto the end of mercilessly brutal metal songs that whiplash you so hard you experience the entire complete range of human emotions during the run time of a single track

Lyrics about climate grief

[flowering-darkness]

Okay now I’m thinking about Mario Party with the Ashen Wolves, because of Clara posting about it with her and the other Blue Lions

Yuri is meticulous about maximising his chances of winning - he’ll try to keep his usual smooth commentary going to disguise that he’s doing something unusual to guarantee himself bonus stars, so that no-one intercepts him (Catarina is good at spotting this, though). This can often lead to him stealing the win right at the end of the game. I’m not really sure why, but I feel like he would play as Luigi.

Balthus is the most likely to do something that screws him over if it’ll also hit someone else, like landing on an event space that causes everyone in a stretch of the board (himself included) to get moved or lose coins. He isn’t quite as strategic, but can often make the best of an unlucky situation.. which is useful considering how often he finds himself in them. I can see him playing as someone like Wario or DK.

Constance is DETERMINED to win by as far of a margin as she can, buying whatever items and even throwing group minigames if it will let her bring down first place - though this does sometimes lead to her own downfall if she lacks the ability to defend herself from others’ trouble. She absolutely plays Peach.

Hapi just lets the others fight amongst themselves and mostly does her own thing, which can sometimes lead to her coasting ahead and into victory if they all sabotage each other too much. I can see her playing as someone like Toad or Yoshi.

Catarina is the one who knows the boards best, so she can take fullest advantage of the events and layout (and is prone to going quiet when she’s planning something so no-one notices her do it). She keeps an eye on what everyone else is doing so that she can adapt her tactic accordingly, rather than going in with a set plan from the start. As she’s my self-insert, and I think I usually play as either Yoshi or Daisy in Mario Party, she would do the same.

..It all sounds like a horribly toxic gameplay experience when I word it this way, which was very much not my intention >w< we do all have fun, it’s just that all of us often have quite the potential to be devious in gameplay strategies. At the end of the day, though, it all comes down to the luck of the dice!

Hopefully this makes sense ^-^

[dawnwriterimagines]

TRAITORS AMONG US Series

SIMON RILEY x FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 x PLATONIC!FEM!READER

Part One: Traitors Among Us

Part Two: Innocents Among You

Part Three: The Guilty Plea

Part Four: The Verdict Due

Part Five: Clear Skies (OUT NOW!!!)

MULTIPLE ENDINGS

Ending One: Sunny Days

Ending Two: Sweet Surrender

Ending Three: Promises, Promises

(I know people are missing from the tags, I will be editing them gradually)

Tag List:

@shelbycillian @azxulaa @kthehoeforfictionalmen @amusling @v1x3n @nobodycanknoww @thesinsoflust @asexualbuthorny @poisonedsultana @blackhawkfanatic @character---obsessed @yunggoblin @teenagellamaangel @hanniebanggi @nym-phos @gastonlover9000 @lyssa-211 @doodle-cat16 @haven-1307 @kneelforloki @delphiakira @just-going-through-the-motions @3-opossums-in-a-ballgown @blueeweeb @goodkittyspost @ocyeanicc @allisonaceriley @enarien @sweet-chai-amore @jumpywhumpywriter @wotchhhh @waves-against-a-cliff @valkyrieunknown @cutiecusp @saintsdemise1 @prettybakerswife @bravo4iscool @li-da-savage @doublevirgogirl @reelovesfictionalmen @lazystorycollector @calicozmbie @reallyshadowycollective @kaoyamamegami @captainchrisstan @dory-98 @detodotoditl @starriestarlight @jdbxws @moonlightttfae @mstigeress37-blog @gyaruismind @mall0ww @mishaglass @whitebread-wasian @yunggoblin @natashamea18 @fruitymoonbeams-blog @pintsizedshawty @saucypeanuttt @chxosangxl @hizzielover @sigynxlokiwifelover @lampsiee @redroserabbit @redxixi @desixangel @n30n-f43 @obsessedwthdilfs @thisisew @dawnisevening @depressedriches @duszavii @spicyspicyliving @redzluvvesage @ayanovargas @napalmfairy7 @misscaller06 @woodlandgirl22-blog-blog @valv4 @kakashi-addict @magoopi @appleslicey @rainejiang @kylies-love-letter @raeyas-ghost @holylonelyponyeatingmacaron-blog @sweethheartturtle2007 @ambr4armr @poisonedsultana @tzutology @cownini @love-skyla @anielly-2010 @bibella8swan @piano-fingers @luvdollyy @naxsstuff @iytatsworld @lovefks @hoddystark @lothiriel9 @crazydeershark @eeyahhh @gallyleelol @0chemicalwaste0 @darling006 @mentallyunstablecodfan141 @1mawh0re @lostgirl219 @chibiduck @xaestheticalien @aletamistyailes @livinginkyootietown @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @chocolate-noodles @yourangel11things-blog @visionsofcarnality @kenmaforgirls @itsjustnikkixoxo @rachieandfans @faridathefairy @thelrina @literally-new-to-this @vexillum-moeru @normallyst0ff @m0chac0ffee @sargentmajorm @inneedsoffanfics @caged-birdies-blog @dopepursebasketballplaid @sinyaaa @alexandra18 @sluttyloser @raencloudsinmyeyes @ellabellabunny123 @noheadcanons-juststories

[itsabouttimex2]

A Brand New Journey:

Part Six

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six)

(Got requested to make a Shadowpeach bot, thought I’d drop it here. And speaking of bot requests, drop yours here!)

“C’mon, kiddo. It’s a simple question. I’m not gonna get mad, I promise.”

You take a moment to think. There’s… a lot to say, isn’t there? Having known the monkey for just over a year now, there’s not much of yourself that’s been unshared. How many times did you bare your heart to this man?

…and would one more really hurt?

Swallowing the last bit of a white chocolate and caramel mooncake, you set down the stained napkin it was held in and throw the pastry back with a sip of tea. Deep breaths, now.

You’ve been meaning to say it for a while now, anyways.

“…you’re the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen a man’s heart crack before.

But there’s an eventual moment there, after the initial jerk of his body, after the instinctive clench of his hand, after the flinch spurred by the mooncake’s insides spilling onto his lap… that Macaque softens.

“…I am?” Is the first question, and his voice is soft, feathery and wavering. This isn’t what he expected. This isn’t what he prepared for.

What you’ve said slides far past the realm of all his schemes and carefully curated words, all his fastidious planning.

How could he have expected this?

You were supposed to respect him! Fear him!

But what you feel for him is- is a word he hasn’t said for a very long time. It’s a word he hasn’t even thought of.

Hotter than hatred. Deeper than despair.

Love.

The word leaves his chest empty, his breath spent. God, it hurts.

When was the last time he was loved? When, without hesitation he was adored? When he was Wanted?

“…kid. C’mere.”

Macaque doesn’t wait for a response- he slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you flush, the thrum of his heart speeding up at the closeness.

You’re one of the only good things he has. He’s lost or destroyed or driven away the rest, all that was or could have been. Macaque doesn’t like to think of his sins- it’s easier to play the victim card.

If he thinks of Sun Wukong as the bad guy, it’s easier to live with what he’s done. To live with manipulating and betraying and stealing and trying to kill. If he throws all the blame onto the Monkey King, then Macaque can pretend to be a good person.

Paint himself white. Paint Wukong black. Ignore the unevenly gray reality.

And he can live with hurting innocent people and destroying their homes and stealing their powers and trying to take their lives.

(But something deep down knows and burns with the knowledge that he’s more monster than man, that he lost all right to be loved with the worst of his unrepentant actions.)

(It aches a little more that uncaring and unregretted deception is what led you to him.)

(He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve anyone. And he knows that it’s wrong to utilize shrouds and veils to keep you in the dark, that it’s wrong to manipulate you, that it’s wrong to groom you into being his shadowy successor, into inheriting his selfish hatred.)

(But when has a villain ever cared about being wrong?)

Macaque rather quickly shoves you away , jumping to his feet with a fanged and glittering grin.

“Stay here, kid. I’m gonna grab you something I’ve been putting together, okay?”

With a curt nod you settle into place, taking the opportunity to stretch and yawn. You had been getting tired, and take this opportunity to reach for the lotus paste mooncake you had been nibbling on- only to find it gone.

Funny. You don’t remember finishing it.

And… there’s a blanket around your shoulders. Did Macaque put it there? You certainly don’t remember something like that happening.

Maybe things had just gotten so cozy that you drifted off for a minute or two, and he had left to fetch you the black and purple quilt.

That was probably it, yeah.

You shrug the weighty comforter from your shoulders, hoping to shake the supposed sleep from your eyes. In hopes of waking up a little further, you stride to the potted plants that had become a fixture in Macaque’s house.

Beneath the brilliantly blooming tansies and dahlias, red roses have begun to sprout and bud, colorful petals peeking from underneath their green sheathes.

Stuffing in a few spikes of fertilizer, you sprinkle the soil with a light dousing of water.

The thing that breaks you from the quaint task is the telltale chime of your phone, an old song playing loudly. But it doesn’t play very long- it seems your calls don’t hold for very long anymore.

———————————————————————-

Rumble and Savage don’t know much about the world yet. There’s a lot to catch up on, in this new world of neon and metal.

Little glittering rectangles that beam light through black screens and send sound miles away in an instant.

“Phones,” Macaque had called them, dangling yours by the bejeweled strap. Both items had been a gift from Mei, a girl you were well on track to becoming friends with. “Hit this button if it starts making noise. I don’t want anything taking the kid’s attention away.”

Seeing no reason to argue with their creator, both had wholeheartedly agreed to keep vigil over your electric-filled “phone” and hit the de-activating lever when it sounded.

Like this moment right now.

Together, they scrabble to unlock the phone, clawed fingers moving just out of sync as the two simians work to punch in your passcode.

Once it’s open, Savage rips the phone from his younger brother’s hands, boosting himself into your bed to put some distance between him and his junior shadow.

As Rumble tries to climb the bed himself in opposition to his brother’s lashing tail, Savage takes note of a little red dot in the bottom right corner of your screen.

An incoming call. From MK.

The elder of the two goes still for a moment, then snaps his claw against the power button harshly enough to leave a scratch through the metal nub. Angered by the mere sight of an enemy’s name, Savage slings the phone down and snags his little brother by the hair, dragging him into the shadows as Rumble squeals and struggles.

———————————————————————-

Right when you go to figure out what happened with your phone in the guest room, Mavaque rounds the corner with a bundle of neatly folded cloth.

“Running off already?” The simian lightheartedly asks, using his tail to snag your wrist. He doesn’t hesitate to drag you closer, pushing the outfit into your arms.

“Go get changed,” is the command he gives, before you can start asking questions. “Bathroom is that way, remember? Hurry it up!”

A push to the north, and you’re stumbling into the tiled room before realizing what’s happening. It seems sometimes as though your hands move of their own will and volition when Macaque gives you a command.

The garb is easy to put on, a black and yellow ru. Though you fumble the sash, the bandana comes easily around your throat. Black boots with gold brim. Red pants.

You look like a little “Mini Macaque”, or a very seasoned cosplayer.

“C’mon, kid! Hurry it up and come here!”

You stumble from the bathroom and into the living room once more, unsteady with the new gear. Macaque snags you close again and rights the sash, then flops back down onto his cushion.

He never been this excited before.

Something’s up.

“I want to tell you a little tale- come and sit with me, kiddo.”

Macaque pats the cushion nearest to his own, looking almost soft again. He’s already got the blanket in his hands, ready to unfold and drape it around your shoulders.

[tragedy-of-commons]

"are you crying?" + blade + platonic/familial (found family father figure blade with teen!reader) please :3

"Are you crying?"

Oh no.

Blade's question - if you can even call it that, considering he says everything in that deadpan tone of his - hangs in the air for a stagnant minute and then some.

Maybe if you don't make a peep, don't move a muscle, he'll give up and go back to minding his own business. It's not too far-fetched! Despite how savage and brutal he is in combat, he's surprisingly calm (and daresay gentle at times). Maybe he'll read the room, absorbing your aura wordlessly like Kafka can.

He grunts your name, an edge present that wasn't there before.

...or maybe not.

You break your silence, whirling around to face him, plastering the hugest, most saccharine smile on your face. It doesn't matter if there are tears rolling down your cheeks and a bit of snot sticking to your upper lip (ew). You have to try to get him off your back before something worse happens.

"Crying? I'm not doing that, no, never. You see, Firefly was in here chopping onions earlier," you chirp, rattling off lies like it's your second nature. Well, it is, that's why you got roped into joining this questionable team in the first place - but that's neither here nor there!

Blade looks at you.

You look at Blade.

Deflating and dropping the act, you swallow, trying to retain some of your cheery tone while you sniffle. "Okay, you win. I just... it's been a rough day, I'm sure you know how it is."

If there's one thing you know about your ancient colleague, it's that he can't make small talk for the life of him. You don't think it's his fault, really. Silver Wolf let it slip that he's lost pieces of himself to mara over the years - some days he can't hold functionality beyond a weapon without Kafka's pacifying mind tricks.

So, trying to keep up casual conversation with Blade is akin to yapping at a brick wall. You've gotten used to it, sure, but the way he's looking at you right now - with a pinched brow and somewhat of a snarl - is starting to unnerve you.

Does crying piss him off? You understand it's not a pleasant thing to deal with (not that you expect him to). But seeing him this angry outside of battle makes you want to run and drop off the grid for the rest of your life, abandoning your very important Stellaron Hunter duties and Blade in the process.

You swallow, wiping your face with your sleeve. You can't seem to stop miffing him, because he stalks over to you completely in two strides while you freeze up in muted terror.

Is he going to execute you?! Has he decided to circumvent Elio's rules just to shut you up? Is your pathetic sniveling really going to be your undoing? Will the others have to scrape your remains off the walls and floor, your life forever immortalized as a reminder to keep the waterworks under contro--

He all but shoves something into your limp hand, closing your fingers around it a little too tenderly before sidestepping you like he's been scalded by boiling hot water.

It's soft, and you eventually realize it's a handkerchief. It's the darkest navy can pass without actually being black, embroidered with neat red stitching and obviously made with love. You don't know why he even has something like this - it's not like he ever cries - but you let the train of thought go in favor of soothing your frayed nerves.

You don't think twice before bringing the cloth to your face and wiping the remnants of your sadness away, trying to find your words in the process. Your coworker is now standing shoulder-to-shoulder with you, all traces of perceived anger gone. The foot or so between you and Blade isn't a wide berth, but it's still too far.

"Oh," you manage dumbly, now sporting a considerably drier nose.

Unimpressed, he replies. "I know."

"What?"

Okay, you sense his frustration this time. Blade sighs and wrenches his head in your direction for just a moment, exasperated and tense. "I know... how it is. Like you said."

You tighten your grip on the handkerchief wadded up in your hand. It's strange to hear him converse with you willingly, let alone try to comfort you (at least, you think that's what he's doing). Even so, his admission strikes a certain chord in your heart that's dusty from neglect. You sneak a glance at his figure, and when you meet eyes of burning coal, he returns to glowering at the wall.

Everyone on this ship has been through so much, especially him. You're certain that Blade does know what it's like to have some shitty days; he's probably had thousands of them.

You shrug. "Yeah... um, I figured. Nothing much I can do about it though. Bad stuff happens to everybody."

A lengthy pause stretches on until Blade takes up the mantle.

"You can't do anything about it," he repeats, statement curtailing into a dangerous drawl, "...but what about someone like me?"

Someone like him. Dread and something like fondness washes over you at the implication. The type of person he is - an eponymous sword and scabbard that slaughters on command - cannot fix the type of anguish you're dealing with. He's offering to help in the best way he knows how, you realize slowly.

The fact that he's even offering to shed blood in your name is a bit scary - not just because murder is wrong or whatever, but because he's actively trying to care about you.

No one's ever done that before.

"Alright, who are you and what have you done with Blade?" you joke, grinning genuinely this time, even if lingering moisture clings to your lashes. "Kidding. As nice as the offer is, I don't think your, um, solution... will help either."

You don't think it matters anymore - you're already starting to forget what got you so down in the first place. Perhaps you haven't given him enough credit, because by the way Blade's posture relaxes, he also notices this. No murder necessary tonight.

"Stand tall," he commands, pointedly not meeting your eyes as he pats your head. Before you have any time to process that, he disappears quickly down the adjoining hallway, likely slinking off to shred some training dummies.

You fly into a double-take, jaw practically on the floor.

Seems like you'll have to interrogate the old man whenever you get a chance to wash and return his handkerchief.

As you open up your messages app to text Silver Wolf all the details (with a concerning amount of stickers), your day doesn't seem so rough anymore.

"Thanks, Bladie," you whisper secretly to no one but yourself.

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren, @https-sourlimes

a/n: i finally got it done! so psyched to work on another platonic/familial prompt and it's BLADE i'm so sick. thank you for this request! :D

event post here

[weasleyreidstyles]

a game of wizards chess on a rainy day

~∞~ i've never written for enzo before but my mutuals (love you all🫶🏼) have slowly been turning me into an enzo girlie 🤭🤭 this if for week three of @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge!!

pairing: enzo berkshire x fem!slytherin reader, platonic mattheo riddle x reader

prompt: wizards chess/"you filthy cheater, we go again!"

warning(s): none its all fluff!!!

The weekend's rainy weather brought with it a sense of serenity and peace as it swept across the Scottish highlands like a flurrying storm. The castle grounds were barren of people, everyone making the unanimous decision to avoid the heavy downpour that had steadily been building in a crescendo all week. The corridors were even emptier, avoided by those who wanted to escape the cold, only the odd person running late to a detention, or for a quick stop in the kitchens, could be seen or heard amongst the chattering painting and silently gliding ghosts.

The common rooms however, were teeming with students, from all year groups. In the Slytherin common room, you and your friends had been some of the lucky few to snag a small grouping of pleated seats, right beside a roaring fire. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that one of said friends was the feared Dark Lord's son, but either way, you were grateful that you could relax by the fire for a few hours, soaking up what little warmth the dungeons could provide in such miserable weather conditions.

Except that you feel anything but relaxed right now. You had somehow found yourself sitting across the small coffee table from Enzo, a fierce game of wizards chess playing out between the two of you. It was common knowledge, between you and your friends, that you absolutely sucked at it, but that didn't stop you from trying, and failing, to beat Enzo at his own favoured game.

You jumped back on your haunches as his bishop savagely destroyed one of your lone pawns and gaped as he jumped up and cheered at his small victory, ignoring the way students around him violently shushed him with scowling faces. Your friends, who only paid sporadic attention to the pair of you, smirked as Enzo sneakily glanced your way, to watch how your face would scrunch in barely restrained irritation.

"And he strikes again!" He says with a cheer, that has Draco glaring at him from over his Potions homework with narrowed eyes. Enzo vehemently ignores him in favour of watching the way your face shifts between a million and one emotions in a split second. "I'm like two moves away from checkmate, sweetheart. Are you sure you can handle losing, again?"

The way he's smirking at you, with mirth painting his face, those brilliantly vibrant eyes of his shining as he stares across the table at you, has a blush fighting it's way up your neck. You scowl at him, menacingly.

"No one likes a show off, Berkshire." You snap, as you move your last remaining rook to take his knight. When Mattheo and Theo snicker from behind you, you turn and rapidly send a glare worthy of one of their own that has them covering their faces to try and hide their laughter from you. Even Draco, who'd been more withdrawn lately, had let out a quiet chuckle.

Sorry love. Mattheo says to you wordlessly and you narrow your glare, solely, on him. But you're not doing a very good job at this.

"Well there's no need to laugh at my misfortune, Matt." You reply and he smirks as he watches the way Enzo looks questioningly between you and him, before he moves another one of his pieces, putting you in checkmate.

You turn towards the table again as you hear the sound of shattering porcelain, watching as your rook is destroyed by his queen, which is now somehow in line with your king piece. You search the board for somewhere you can go, and come up agonisingly empty. You gape at the smug boy across from you.

"You filthy cheater!" You accuse and Enzo sends you a smirk that could bring you to your knees at anytime of the day.

"I did no such thing, sweetheart." He says, but the mischief shining in his russett eyes makes you believe otherwise. "Maybe you should pay attention next time."

His words ignite a challenge within you and you steel yourself as the pair of you become locked into a heated staring contest. In your peripheral, you watch as your friends whisper conspicuously between each other, but you pay them no mind.

Huffing you use your wand to fix and rearrange the pieces to their original positions.

"We go again!" You say resolutely, kneeling closer to the table, as if it would somehow make your wizards chess abilities rise to the surface. But you knew that it was wishful thinking.

Ready to lose again, sweetheart? Enzo speaks to you wordlessly, and your glare intensifies at the way his voice lowers a decibel or two, making it a low rasp in your head. I promise I'll go easy on you. He's smirking to himself as he moves the first piece.

And the cycle continues for another hour, until Blaise lets out an aggrieved sigh and takes your place. You sit beside Pansy huffing as you cross your arms over your chest, casting a look of contempt at Enzo, who does a terrible job of hiding his smug face. After half an hour, their game is a close one, and Blaise only just beats Enzo with a move of pure luck.

The latter comes to sit beside you after that, the game becoming abandoned on the table, an arm reaching across the back of the sofa, hand tracing featherlight patterns against your jumper covered shoulder. He's staring at the side of your face, tracing the way your hair falls in rippling waves as you tilt your head in favour of engrossing yourself in a book instead of focusing on him.

"Still bitter that I won, sweetheart?" He murmurs, leaning in close so that his lips brush the shell of your ear.

The twitch of your lip is the only thing that gives away that you hear him, but you choose to ingore him in favour of finishing the chapter, or at least you try to.

Since Enzo had sat down, you'd read the same sentence at least five times now. He pokes your shoulder with the hand that had been previously caressing it and you turn to him, breath hitching imperceptibly when you realise just how close he is to you.

"I'm only bitter because you cheated. I could've won fair and square." You say, your lips falling into a pout that Enzo desperately wants to kiss away.

"I'm no cheater." He says with enough self assurance that you might be inclined to believe him. "You were the one who turned away from the game."

"Only because Matt distracted me!" You retort, your face moving closer to his on your own accord.

"Perhaps I should put you out of your misery and teach you how to play." He whispers. The tension building between the two of you could be severed by a knife with how palpable the charged atmosphere is.

Said knife appears in the form of Theodore's hushed voice, which sounds fed up as much as it is amused.

"For Salazar's sake, please put us all out of the fucking misery of witnessing this and kiss." It was meant to be a muttered statement between himself and your other friends, but it reaches you nonetheless, causing you to recoil from the close proximity to Enzo, covering your reddening cheeks with your hands.

Enzo doesn't bother to remove his arm from where it practically cradles you into him as he scowls at his best friend. But when you don't move away from his touch, he thanks any god he can think of that you don't shy away from him.

The rest of the afternoon is spent in content silence as you and your friends bask in the murky green glow of the lake, warmed only by the heat of the fire. But you feel heated for a whole other reason, because Enzo's arm is yet to be unwound from your shoulder as you busy yourself with burrowing into his body heat, the position cosy enough for you to settle into finishing your book, and eventually even lulling you to sleep.

Enzo stares down at you with a smile as your book falls limply into his lap. He gingerly picks it up and slides the bookmark, that you'd left on the coffee table, into place before gently putting it on the floor beside your bag. He brings your body closer to his and marvels at the way you instinctively nuzzle your face into his chest, relaxed by the steady beat of his pounding heart.

He places a barely there kiss to the crown of you head and he swears he sees the ghost of a smile gracing your pretty lips.

One day. He'd confess to you one day.

And by the twin looks that he spies on Matt and Theo's faces, that day may come sooner than either of you may think.

~∞~

A little bonus scene:

"I don't understand how the two of them are so oblivious." Pansy says quietly as she watches the way you berate Enzo with no mutinous ammunition behind your words. "They're so obviously in love with eachother."

"Well they are idiots, bella." Theo says with a laugh. "It'll take it being spelled out for them to realise it."

"We cannot meddle with their love lives." Blaise counters, although his glimmering eyes give away that he wants to do exactly that. Draco looks like he agrees.

"Oh come on, B!" Mattheo retorts, a devilish look overtaking his features. "Where's the fun in that?"

"I'll bet twenty galleons that you can't get them to admit it by the end of the month." Pansy offers with a feline smirk and Mattheo's eyes light up in challenge.

"You have yourself a bet, love. Prepared to lose?" He smirks at his friend who only winks back at him before she settles into Theo's side.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." She says and they all turn to watch the way Enzo blatently stares at you, eternal love shining in his russett eyes. "Enzo's looks like he's about to burst with it."