#shes got one of these bad boys but HAS to have the animal sounds muted cause by god does it sound TERRIBLE

[peculiardiction]

I'm giving her the same brain rot as me. This is love

[queenimmadolla]

drabbles! how about reader and eddie telling penny and wayne theyre expecting maple?

𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫!𝐃𝐚𝐝!𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐦!𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 (don't have to read but you'll want to)

“I’ll tell them. It’s fine.” Your voice sounds so defeated over the phone and Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. He hates it, hates that he’s the reason for it. 

  Here he is, telling you everything’s gonna get better, that the two of you will be okay—that your family will be okay, and already he’s had to let you down. 

  After a particular nasty fight that led to a comforting tryst, you were pregnant again. Giving Eddie his third baby. And all he’s given you lately is disappointment.

  “This leg is just three weeks, baby.” He promises, voice urgent because you have to believe him. Things have gotten shitty between the two of you but Eddie’s determined to change them, needs you to know that, “I’ll make it home on our off days.”

  But he won’t be home when you’re telling his kids they’re getting another sibling. It’s fucked. And he wants to argue, tell you to just wait until he gets back in town this week—but the thing is, even though he’s promising and desperately hoping he’ll be able to make it, it would be just his luck for something to happen at the last minute.

  He wants to punch a wall until his bones tear through the skin of his knuckles.

  “Okay, Eds.” Still defeated, but you don’t sound like you hate him, a change from recent phone conversations and you’re short with him so he knows you don’t want to talk to him for much longer.

  He does take a few moments, eyes still shut as he hones in on your breathing. Trying to imagine you right next to him instead of thousands of miles away.

   “I know things aren’t as pleasant as we want them to be. I swear to god, they’re gonna change. I’m not losing you. I’m not. I love you, baby.” He whispers, voice low and raspy. He’s fully expecting the love you, too followed by dial tone, so Eddie practically starts silently weeping when he gets more than that.

   “I love you, too, Eddie.” It doesn’t sound distant, as though you were already mentally out of the conversation. You’re still present for it, and it doesn’t sound like a weight on you. 

  The dial tone doesn’t come, you’re waiting for Eddie to end the phone call. A change.

  With a faint sniffle, and after a few more moments of comforting silence, he does.

  You hang the phone back on the receiver then pad over to the living room. The tv is on, some animated film displayed on the screen that manages to hold your children’s attention. Not much could do that as of late.

  “You guys got a minute?” You ask, making yourself comfortable on one end of the couch. Your five year-old son, Wayne, moves over to you and practically wraps your arms around him as he cuddles into your side. 

  Penny mutes the TV with the remote and you know you have their full attention.

   “I know things have felt a little weird lately, but I don’t want you to think it’s a bad thing, okay? Things are just changing.”

   “Like what?” Penny asks, giving you the perfect opportunity. This has to be a good, has to be a positive thing happening for them even though you had no idea how to feel yourself. 

  “Like the amount of troublemakers under my roof.”

  Penny’s gasp is loud and dramatic, eyes wide in excitement as she immediately catches onto your meaning. 

  “ARE YOU GONNA HAVE A BABY?!”

  Wayne’s face is the opposite of Penny’s, mouth wide open and looking downright offended with the level of side-eye he’s giving you. His top lip is curled in disgust, gums and teeth on display. You would have thought you’d just stolen his childhood instead of just telling him you’re pregnant.

  Oh, boy.

  At least, you’d have something funny to break the ice with when Eddie called in a few hours.

divider ℗ cafekitsune ♡

[e-dash-lace]

My Very Own Locked Tomb Playlist

A bunch of songs that I listened to while I was doing a Summer 2024 re-read of The Locked Tomb (mostly Harrow and Nona) in no particular order. I took notes because this fandom makes you crazy and Spotify is so stupid that instead of having a notes feature, it has an algorithm that makes you a new playlist four times a day that's called something like "gut-wrenching wailing girl dinner slay brat summer afternoon." Anyway, notes under the cut (spoilers for the entire series sorry)

Psychic Wound - King Woman

The song that Ianthe puts on the radio when she needs to focus to give Harrow her lobotomy. (In all honesty though I think that most songs off of the I Saw the TV Glow playlist go kind of crazy over Harrow the Ninth. Something something horror of being a queer teenager.)

Intergalactic - The Beastie Boys

When Gideon the Ninth the animated feature length film opens, the opening credits play to this song. This song also plays during Camila's fight with Ianthe Naberius on New Rho

Go Away Little Girl - Percy Faith & His Orchestra

This song really screams Jod to me. It plays during John 8:1. Like really close your eyes and imagine it. Like there's no sound it's just like a jumbled up bunch of slow motion scenes.

My Smile is Extinct - Kane Strang

Honestly I just needed to put this song on the playlist because it's the kind of depression song that's like just goofy enough to make you laugh even when you're sad. RIP Harrow Nonagesimus. She would have loved My Smile is Extinct by Kane Strang.

Army of Me - Bjork

Another sword fight song. This song plays during Gideon and Harrow's first fight on the Ninth House. I think that my brainworms just also really wanted to bring some of that girls fighting in steampunk muted colors vibe from Sucker Punch into this playlist.

Growing Pains - Ethel Cain

The queen brainworm living in my mind demands that all playlists I make have 1 Ethel Cain song. I can't really tell you how this fits, but when I tried to remove it, I thought "no. she stays" This song is Harrow the Ninth coded but maybe like Harrow Coffee Shop AU

Jesus Is the One (I Got Depression) - Zack Fox

First House National Anthem I fear. If I had money, I would pay it to comission a Harrow the Ninth animatic to this song.

Sunday - The Cranberries

Not really sure why this is on the playlist. I think it might have been an accident, but also it just sounds kind of appropriate so it stays :)

August Underground - Ethel Cain

Spotify gave me a really really good daylist ONCE that was just like atmospheric music (mostly from videogames). It was so stellar that I saved it! I listened to that playlist while I was reading like the last 25% of Nona. This song plays throughout all of NtN Chapter 28 or at the very least an extended scenes of Sex Pal and Camilla turning into Paul.

Ghosts in the Static - Ben Babitt

Atmospheric music to listen to while Nona drives through the River. A lot of the songs on the KRZ soundtrack fit that vibe. If you want music to drive on the River to, you should listen to the Kentucky Route Zero soundtrack.

Dumbest Girl Alive - 100 Gecs

I think that Gideon Nav would be a really big 100 gecs fan

Thick Skull (Re: Julien Baker) - Paramore & Julien Baker

I think that Jod would be a really big fan of Paramore. I think this song is about Jod, but it's the song that plays during the flashback scene when Gideon kicks Wake out of the airlock and she falls into the Ninth House

Bad Lil Vibe - Coco & Clair Clair

HEAR ME OUT. In my mind, Jod has gifted Ianthe a cassette player and for some reason, the only cassette that's in it is like some collectible 10th anniversary cassette tape of the album Sexy by Coco & Clair Clair. (that doesn't exist yet but it will). I feel like Coco and Clair Clair are good music for the Coronabeth and Ianthe dynamic duo, but I think that this song is for Ianthe. I think it has that evil hot mess (not like Sharpay Evans evil hot mess, more like Shego with smeared lipstick and a broken heart at the club) vibe that the Saint of Awe brings to the table.

4AEM - Grimes

Grimes TO ME ok IMO strikes me as someone who in 2015 would have been fancast as ianthe because she's blond, skinny, and like swinging around a long sword in her music videos like someone who just kind of thinks that swords are cool conceptually and will go well with the special effects but couldn't actually use one to defend themselves if it came down to it and that's really ianthe tridentarius-core TO ME. I imagine that deep down Ianthe hoped that becoming a lyctor meant she would get to be like an international pop star but more. Not to digress but this song is an Ianthe Tridentarius fight song.

Combat Baby - Metric

Actually lol okay hear me out. So actually Ianthe was also gifted a cd player by jod and this is the song that she cries to (ALONE) when she thinks about Harrow. I think Ianthe wishes she had a y2k style but she was just born in the wrong decade sorry

Pluto - Bjork

This is the song that is playing after Harrow wakes up and Gideon is inside her brain helping her fight Cytherea. I think snippets or like altered instrumental versions of this song also play in each trial that Harrow and Gideon work through. Like some version of this song is definitely playing the first time Harrow siphons Gideon to get those keys

Femininomenon - Chapell Roan

First of all, what is any playlist made in 2024 without a Chapell Roan song on it. Second, when I first wrote this note I imagined this as the song that plays immediately after mercy kills Jod and then like there's a full 3 minute music video where like Mercy is on lead vocals, she's like arguing with Augustine a bit then they're like dancing and then the song really abruptly cuts off right before the end when Jod sucks himself back together. Alternatively, this song plays every single time Nona sees a woman.

Dream Girl Evil - Florence and the Machine

Alectopause Hive International Anthem In the parallel universe where Nona the Ninth was released as a webcomic or like an AO3 fic, Taz Muir has linked this song in the Notes and there are 1000 animatics of the Nona epilogue with this song.

Springbreakers - Charli XCX

Alectopause hive international anthem 2 electric boogaloo (Remember how I said "gut-wrench9ing wailing girl dinner slay brat summer afternoon"? I meant that) I would also accept this song as the Nona epilogue animatic song

Bit of A Monster - Vylet Pony

I can't explain this one. I don't know why it's here it just has to be. If you made it this far, leave ur theories in the tags idk.

Mysteries of the Cleft - death's dynamic shroud

I think like if you asked me to I could make a whole playlist of songs about being in the River, so this is either like a planetkiller harrow song or like the song that plays when Jod takes Ianthe and Harrow through the River the first time.

Kizaki Lake - Satoko Shibata

One thing about me, if there's an opportunity to put a Japanese song on the playlist, a Japanese song is going on the playlist and right now the other queen brainworm in my mind is the brainworm that's been addicted to this album since it was released in February and I think everyone should listen to it. The instrumental for this song plays throughout the entirety of Day One in Nona and IF I WAS IN CHARGE Satoko Shibata would be tapped to do the score for the film because she's just that good. Go listen to Your Favorite Things!

[nokingsonlyfooles]

WTYP: The Shandor Building, Part 9

[Do you like the colour of the fanfic? This is long and if you expand it you're gonna get the whole thing, because Tumblr hates you. Don't say I didn't warn you!]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Part 9: Disaster Roulette: Train Bad Actually

[Beware of strong language, mention of all kinds of death, gore, and Lovecraftian horror.]

[SLIDE: The Frankford Junction Wreck.]

D: Okay, where are we? What's going on?

R: We’re on a train leaving a station at speeds of up to eighty miles per hour, part of it is already on fire, and the signal gantry that will open it up, and I quote, “like a can of sardines,” is an unknown distance away. And we are all still covered in horse viscera.

A [cheerfully]: Right! Well! Everyone, make sure you have your equipment and your psycho-reactive slime objects! Rocz, hold my purse.

R: I’m not sure this train has a bathroom…

A: Oh, no, I’m not going to the bathroom. You just need something that flies!

R: I’m not taking this, what will you use?

A: Oh, I don’t need it. Now, everyone take a deep breath and prepare to start singing “Higher and Higher” at the top of your lungs! Future Devon, prepare to edit!

D [text over slide]: YEP.

R: Are you really going to be okay?

A: Oh, yes. Yes. You, er, might want to keep your distance. I… I really do have quite a lot of pent-up hostility. It’s not easy being a girl. All right! Door’s open! Paratroops, over the side! And…

D [text over slide]: IT REALLY IS A SHAME I HAD TO GET RID OF THE SINGING. THIS IS MY FAVOURITE PART.

[SLIDE: The Frankford Junction Wreck]

[screeching, train noises and sounds of laser fire throughout]

D: Shh! Shut up! We can’t leave all this out!

R: I don’t know if it’s exactly safe to land, Dev…

D: Just keep your distance!

L: Listeners, I wish you could see Alice! She is glowing! I mean, she is literally glowing!

R: Oh, my God.

A [distant, with her mic considerately muted]: I HAVE BECOME A SPECIFIC TYPE OF NONBINARY THAT ONE MIGHT INCLUDE IN A “TWO-AND-A-HALF-MEN” JOKE WITHOUT BEING TRANSPHOBIC — DESTROYER OF WORLDS!

R: So, we, uh, we accidentally gave Alice the ability to shoot lasers — er, uh, “light rays,” but that seems to work like lasers — out of her head this episode, and, looks like, all the powers of Unreal Engine animation…?

L: Fuck “accidentally,” I did this on purpose! KEEP TRANSGENDING, ALICE!

A [happily]: CHEERS!

R: Are we clear to use that with no license, Dev?

D [gleeful]: Just as long as nobody can see it!

L: Can she fly, or is she just glitching really fast?

R: I think she’s just failing to render gravity on command…

D: I don’t care what it is, it’s fantastic!

L: I just wish like hell we’d given her a higher frame rate!

R: God, that poor train. It was already on fire…

D: We’re pretty sure that train is part of, or all of, Gozer the Gozerian, Rocz.

R: I dunno. I mean, it’s possible just preventing xem from pulling off the disaster is enough to hurt xem…

A: YOU DUMPED HORSE ENTRAILS ON CARRIE AND SHE IS GOING TO BURN THIS FUCKING PROM TO THE GROUND! AHA! TAKE THAT, SIGNAL GANTRY!

[groaning, crashing, various explosions, and more laser fire]

D: Well, it’s certainly not going to happen now!

R: I’m just not sure destroying the pocket dimension while we’re in it is going to get us out of this alive…

L: Hey, do we have to Donnie Darko this bad boy? I mean, like, kill Gozer, pop the time bubble, and reset reality so we only kinda vaguely remember it? Like, is this version of me with the cool van doomed?

R: That’s assuming the time bubble is centered around Gozer and that it is, in fact, a time bubble. For example, I got out of the pie dimension just by finishing the pie, I recall it perfectly, and I did not have to die.

D: What if it’s like Bioshock and you constructed a plausible memory to cope with the trauma of your alternate self’s death?

R: That is, also, a possibility. Although it is beautifully rendered, you must realize why I’m a little concerned about Alice murdering the train. We do not know how this works. Also, she is super into it, and, uh, I’m not sure she’ll hear us if we ask her to stop.

[snarling, shrieking, crunching]

L: Holy shit, is that motherfucker rearing up in anger?

R: I think Alice has destroyed the axle on car number 7, as per the original accident, and Unreal Engine is having a little trouble rendering it in real time…

G [metallic shrieking interspersed with train noises]: I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY YOU MADE ME SIT THROUGH SO MUCH PODCASTING TO GET TO THE REAL FIGHT!

R: …Nope, my mistake. The motherfucker is indeed rearing up in anger.

A: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? THIS IS A BONUS EPISODE! WE HAVE NOT YET BEGUN TO DIGRESS!

G: FUUUUUCK! AT LEAST GET BACK TO SHANDOR ARCHITECTURE!

A: NEVER!

V: Perhaps when Lord Gozer has destroyed the leader of your polycule, xe will have mercy on you, doughnut-giver.

R: Gah! Fuck! Don’t do that! I don’t have any more doughnuts! Wait… [crinkling wrapper] You want this?

V: [sniffing, chewing] This object is grainy and tastes of despair.

R: Well, it’s a Slimfast bar, and God knows how long it was at the bottom of this purse…

V: We do not need to lose weight.

R: No. I’m sure. It’s just all I…

V: The new world will be free of both fad diets and body image issues. To be perfectly honest, the new world will be free of most things, except suffering and tummy rubs.

R: That seems a bit contradictory…

L: Wait, what about TERFs? Will the new world have TERFs?

V: Are TERFs mortal, Vengeful God of Insults?

L: Yeah.

Z: Then most of them will die, and Lord Gozer will allow the cute ones to burn eternally in a lake of fire. Can I get some of those cigarettes? [chewing] Yum.

L [offended]: There are no cute ones!

Z [shocked]: Not even the baby ones? Have they no tentacles? No boopable noses?

L: No!

V: Then all of the TERFs will die, yes. Hail Gozer.

L: What about fish and the Dutch?

D: Liam!

L: What? I’m just sayin’, maybe we should hear them out…

Z: HEY!

L: Um, maybe we should hear “us” out?

V: All but the cutest occupants of your world shall perish.

Z: Only the cute shall suffer, with brief breaks to rub our tummies and throw a ball…

V [excited]: Did you say THROW a BALL? [panting, galloping]

Z: We apologize, we get excited. THERE IS NO BALL, VINZ CLORTHO!

V [distant]: WE THINK WE SEE IT OVER THERE!

Z: [sigh] There’s one in every polycule.

D: Why are you looking at me?

Z: We’d better go get us.

D: Why are you looking at me? I’M THE SANE ONE!

Z: Thank you for the cigarettes, doughnut-giver. Hail Gozer.

D: YOU SOUND LIKE A FERAL SIGOURNEY WEAVER!

Z [distant]: You sound like a queer Frodo Baggins!...

D: Wha… Buh… FRODO BAGGINS IS QUEER!

L: Dev…

D: Tell me one fact about Frodo Baggins that suggests he is anything other than queer!

L: Dev! Frodo Baggins is extremely queer and I just figured out how to get us out of this mess!

[90s-vintage car key fob chirp]

L: GANDALF, I SUMMON THEE!

[laser blasts and train sounds continue unabated]

L: Uh…

R: What’d you expect to happen?

L: I dunno. I hit the panic button. Doesn’t he know I’m in trouble?

R: Generally speaking, that just flashes the headlights and sets off the car alarm, it does not summon a car.

L: Aw, man. Poor guy’s probably sitting in an Innsmouth parking lot, just yelling his fool head off…

D: I AM DEFINITELY NOT THE VINZ CLORTHO OF THIS POLYCULE!

R: We’re not a polycule.

D: BUT IF WE WERE!

L: Okay, okay, wait, though. No, wait. My van is an engineering disaster, right? And my van is now a chariot pulled by a lamassu that has the gift of interdimensional flight. So we just gotta do one more engineering disaster, and pick my van!

R: The behavior of the train-monster suggests that if we pick your van, your van will become a manifestation of Gozer the Gozerian and xe will keep trying to kill us.

L: But it’s my van, right? Doesn’t my van have to listen to me?

R: Has your van ever listened to you?

L: Well, not the original version, but I think the new one likes me.

R: Yeah, but Gozer doesn’t.

D: …Rocz? What exactly is a lamassu?

R: An ancient Sumerian, later Assyrian, mythological beast. It is an emanation of the goddess Lama, and servant to Ishtar — the Queen of Heaven, not the 1987 cinematic flop. Although, critical attitudes towards the film Ishtar have softened somewhat…

D: It’s… a good Sumerian deity?

R: More like a contractor… Hang on, I'll open another tab…

D: Have a look at the one on Gozer too. Is xe a bad Sumerian deity?

L: Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m getting a real Dorothy vibe off you right now.

D: [sharply] Liam… [softening] No, no, good job, Liam. Keep it up. [to Rocz] What I’m trying to figure out is, are we acting as proxies between two opposing divine forces?

L: Sort of the meat in a god hoagie?

D: I… Yes, actually?

R: Technically, although the Cult of Gozer did form in ancient Sumer, Gozer is not Sumerian. We’re not sure where xe’s from, only that xe, in layman’s terms, is “not from around here.” Xe is more of a trans-dimensional traveler looking for a suitable place to set up shop. There have been several documented attempts, but the earliest was in Sumer.

L: Did you just say Gozer is trans?

R: In the sense of having traveled quite some distance to get here, yes. Any deities originating from this dimension would, in this context, be cis, although some of them may be trans in other ways. Though xe is, under the broadest possible definition of the term, a “trans immigrant,” xe is operating with literally toxic levels of power and privilege. I’m gonna hafta invoke Karl Popper’s paradox of tolerance, here, and remind everyone that the intent to kill most of us and boil “the cute ones” in a lake of fire for eternity takes precedence.

D: Rocz, I am still covered in cream of rat-and-horse, my sympathies do not lie with the Gozerian… even if it is a bit of a shame about the TERFs.

L: And the fish.

D: Yes.

L: So, wait, you said we were having an immune response… Is our reality having an immune response? Is Gozer like covid? Or Vigo?

R: Maybe it’s trying, but we’re in this here pocket dimension. Any Sumerian memory T cells that know how to fight xem off are pretty far away, both physically and temporally.

L [proudly]: And my van’s one of ‘em! God sent me a contractor. That settles it! My religion wins! You can all go home!

R: Alice is still beating the shit out of that train, and we can’t actually get to your van, so at the very least it’s a tie.

D: A question, gentlemen. Can a virus take the form of a T cell?

R: Some of ‘em wear those little protein coats, but if we’re talking about Gozer taking the form of a lamassu, it’d probably itch like crazy if xe tried. Looks like Ray Stantz tried a similar strategy in ‘84, but although the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man looks fairly benign, he’s a trademarked corporate mascot and bona fide capitalist tool. Medium-evil at best. A lamassu is the real deal.

L: So if we try to trick xem into taking the form of my van, either xe won’t, or xe’ll get rejected by it, and no matter what, we’ll have a whole-ass lamassu?

R: Worth a shot.

[screeching, train noises and laser blasts continue]

D: Oh, God. Somebody’s got to tell Alice.

R: You go, Dev. I got a little more research to do. And Liam’s… Liam. No offense.

L: None taken. I’ve had my fun. Just don’t forget to edit out the music, Dev!

D [text over slide]: OH SHIT. RIGHT. I’M DEV.

[generic, public domain music]

[SLIDE: Test pattern, captioned: WE’RE EXPERIENCING COPYRIGHT DIFFICULTIES, and some difficulty with the circumstances of our reality. I mean, WTF? Why am I here? What does it all mean? Am I just a toy for your amusement, huh? Is that all? Or is there some point to all of this? What kind of God would create a being that instinctively seeks a greater purpose and then, seemingly, go out of their way to deny them that? I mean, sometimes a pet raven, liquor, and ice cream just isn’t enough, you know? Anyway…]

[laser blasts and train noises fading back in]

[SLIDE: The Frankford Junction Wreck.]

A: I AM THE MOUNTAIN WHO WILL COME TO MOHAMMED! I AM THE EMBODIMENT OF THE SATANIC VERSES! I AM A MOTHERFUCKING DJINN!

D [faintly]: ALICE! HEY!

A: What? Oh, hello, Dev! Ha-ha, it’s raining “them,” eh? You look like a butch Mary Poppins! This is, er [laser blast, steam-powered screaming] a bit of a hazard, isn’t it? Something you need?

D: I just, um… Er… What do you think of the Soviet strategy versus Germany in World War Two?

G [out of breath]: HOLY FUCK. YOUR POLYCULE HAS A VINZ CLORTHO TOO?

D: I AM NOT… Um. We were just, sort of, er, having a tangent — as per our established podcast format —  and we wanted to get your opinion… As, er, as the leader of our polycule.

A: What, of scorched earth? [brightly] I approve of it! Obviously! [to Gozer] AND THAT IS A THREAT, YOU TRAIN-WEARING DRY FUCK! [to Devon] Did we, er, form a polycule during this tangent? I mean, it’s not the weirdest thing we’ve ever…

D: No, no… Well, sort of. But I was thinking more like… The idea of letting one’s enemy tire itself out and then, er, allowing the Russian winter, the natural defence of, um, Communism against foreign invaders to, er, sort of… finish them off?

G [charmed]: AWW. THIS LITTLE BEING THINKS THEY ARE BEING SUBTLE. THAT IS RIGHT, LITTLE BEING. YOU ARE SO CLEVER. BOOP.

A: HEY! DON’T BOOP MY FRIEND! YOU DON’T ROLL UP TO MY GRAPHICS ENGINE AND START BOOPING MY FRIENDS WITH YOUR… YOUR DEMON TRAIN LIMBS!

D [dazed]: Xe could’ve taken my head off with that…

G: I APOLOGIZE. SHALL WE CALL A TIMEOUT AND ORGANIZE OUR RESPECTIVE UNDERLINGS? SOMEONE SEEMS TO HAVE SAID THE WORD B-A-L-L WITHIN EARSHOT OF MY VINZY.

A: Um, yes, I suppose. You’re being… incredibly polite about your murder attempt.

G: WELL, WITHOUT POINTLESS RITUAL AND CEREMONY, WHAT WOULD WE BE?

D & A [almost on top of each other]: Are you BRITISH?

G: EMPHATICALLY NO.

A: So, what are we doing?

D: Frantically feeling our nose to make sure it’s still attached?

A: And apart from that?

D: We want one more change of engineering disaster. We think if we pick Liam’s van, we might be able to summon a lamassu…

A: Are we assuming Ishtar is on our side for some reason?

D: What…? You knew Ishtar upgraded Liam’s van?

A: Dev, I did the slides for this. I had a truly hilarious one about Mesopotamian rock-paper-scissors. All the gods are extremely petty and hate each other, but they’re quite willing to team up and take out a group or individual they hate more. Ishtar is very into love and war and sex, so I just assumed… Well, I mean look at xem. Er, well, not the demon train version, the one with the watch and the camera. I suppose it all depends on the nature of this “new world” xe seems to…

D [quickly]: Almost everyone will die, and there will be a lake of fire in which cute things endlessly suffer, with occasional breaks to play with the Terror Dogs. We got it straight from the Terror Dogs’ mouths.

A: No sex at all?

D: I can’t speak for Gozer and the dogs, but unless the cute things get terribly bored in the lake of fire…

A: Oh. [chuckles] Oh, she wouldn’t like that.

D: So, instead of straight-up murdering the train, and collapsing the pocket dimension with us in it, we thought we’d tag in Liam’s new van. [more pained] He already tried to summon it and it didn’t work. So, er, as you said, “mountain to Mohammed” and all that.

A: Well, I’m game, but I don’t know how we’re going to convince Gozer to change forms again…

G: PARDON ME.

A: [screams, sound of a laser blast]

D: FUCK! How does a train monster that is also on fire “sneak up”? Huh? You have no right to stealth!

G: WE ARE GODS AND REALITY OBEYS OUR EVERY WHIM, ARE WE NOT?

D: Um. Right.

G [fondly]: THE DUMB ONES ARE ALWAYS THE CUTEST. ANYWAY, VINZ CLORTHO WILL NOT BE DISSUADED FROM LOOKING FOR THE BALL, NOT EVEN BY ANOTHER BALL, SO WOULD YOU LIKE TO ASSEMBLE YOUR POLYCULE AND CHANGE FORM… [pregnant pause] OR ARE YOU GOING TO STICK WITH THE GORE-ENCRUSTED PODCAST?

A [happily]: Gore-encrusted podcast all the way! And we’d like to pick…

Part 10

[bubblyhoney]

sarah i have thought of another fic request or like a cute idea i guess! i didn’t have anyone in mind when i thought of it so you can write it for whoever you want honestly :)

okay so the reader is a streamer but streams games like animal crossing, standew valley, etc. then (insert who you’re writing for) says they don’t like that game, but later ends up buying it and the reader is like “i thought you said you didn’t like this game” and they’re like “well i like you” and they confuses their feelings and they end up playing the game together and reader gives them a tour of their island or farm

i feel like this request isn’t good, but the scenario seemed cute and i wanted to share it. sorry if this is confusing or just too specific cuz i know it can be hard to write requests like that! but yeah i hope it gives you inspiration and you like the request <3

new horizons

warnings: language, a Marvel reference (hint: natasha said it about tony), stupid idiots who don’t realize they like each other, use of pet names, Uno rage, Hasan Piker's presence

words: 1473

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

A/N: i’ve been trying to catch up a little on my requests (i’ve only got a couple so i’m not super overwhelmed) but school and outside life has been taking up most of my time so this one took me a while to make! tbh— ive never played animal crossing so i did google some of the game mechanics and i apologize if anything is inaccurate about the game…. but i liked relaxing and writing this cute one so thank you for requesting hails :3

requests/inbox status: open

-

“This game is trash.”

Your head quirks, fingers stopped on the screen. You’re in the process of giving your character a cute new nickname; it’s kind of hard to decide between “awkward dude” and “elderly skater”.

“Excuse me?” Your chat comes alive with emotes and ‘KEKW’s, obviously entertained by you and your almost-more-than-friends-friend.

There’s a story for that later.

Sapnap’s rough laugh comes through your headset and he audibly swallows, the sound of a water bottle dropping onto his desk echoing.

“I’m just saying—it’s boring. It’s like Minecraft but you don’t like… do anything.” The grainy image of his bearded face shifts and you see him pull out his phone.

“It’s— you can’t even compare it to Minecraft! It’s a completely different game system—you actually interact with other people live in the game.” You huff out a dramatic sigh, slumping in your chair with a pout. “Just because you go into this lucid state where all you know is ‘touch block, hit George’ doesn’t mean this game isn’t fun.” (He scoffs at your awful impression of his voice. Your viewers love it.)

“Jeez,” he mumbles, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle. “Touched a nerve there, bud.”

You roll your eyes, getting back to the village in the game.

“Don't ‘bud’ me.”

The call falls comfortably quiet, the sounds of him tapping obsessively on his phone and you clicking away filling the silence. A gentle bedroom-pop YouTube playlist remains in the background, prompting you to hum along and glance at the chat to see a flood of “check twitter” and “Y/N TWITTER!!”.

“What happened on Twitter?” You mumble, confused, and pull the website up on another monitor. Sapnap just makes a curious noise, swinging back and forth in a circle. “Oh my God,” you say to yourself, fingertips brushing your parted lips.

“What?”

“Hasan Piker just followed me and retweeted one of my not even remotely political old tweets. Like from a year ago.”

“That’s— wow. Congrats?” Sapnap’s voice cracks, and his ears flush pink the tiniest bit when you glance at his face on Discord.

“I’m gonna go on record and say that he could get it.” You shake your head in disbelief.

Sapnap falls uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal, so you look past the frenzied chat and to his screen— wait. He muted and turned his camera off.

“Um,” you start, furiously typing question marks in your private chat. “Where’d you go?” You mute and turn screen share off for your stream, concerned that he might’ve fallen off his chair and broken his neck and needs you to call the ambulance.

The characteristic ding of a twitter notification sounds through your bedroom, and you look at your phone quickly.

“That’s where I went.”

Sapnap Tweeted: “all Y/U stans can choke on my dick”.

“Jesus, Sapnap,” you say, and rapidly refresh to read the replies. This tweet was deleted. “That’s so— that barely makes sense, bro. Why— literally what?”

His snicker floods your ears and you relax in your chair. Crisis: averted. “Don’t fucking— what’s wrong with you?”

“I thought it would be funny,” he offers, shrugging, and fiddles with the straw in his water bottle, smile fading. “And also Hasan pisses me off.”

“Why, ‘cause he wants a piece of this? Jealous?” You think back to your viewers, knowing they’re probably spamming question marks and coming to ludacris conclusions about both of your absences. No offense to them. You remember your stan days very vividly.

“I mean, kinda.” He rubs once at his nose, glancing at the camera (and what feels like you) before taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Wow.” You watch one strand of his hair fall from beneath his hat and brush against his full eyebrows. “I’m uh—I’ll get back to my stream. You coming? Or is it time for a Sapnap-snack?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snorts and leans his chin onto the balance of his arm.

“That means you like to take a little snack break mid-stream and come back approximately nine hours later and you didn’t even eat.”

“You know what— fuck you.” He flicks the camera as you laugh at the look on his face.

The teasing mood is easily kept as you switch games from Animal Crossing to Uno, all the while slamming Sapnap with +4’s and skipping the newly-arrived BadBoyHalo at any chance you can get. It unironically pisses him off and he has to take a Sapnap-snack break midway through (only a fifteen minute break this time, during which you and Bad take a “What Kind of Bread Are You?” quiz). The rest of the night is filled with devious cackles (you), loud and sudden bangs that sound suspiciously like someone hitting their desk in anger (Sap) and the stupid barking of Rat, AKA Lucy (Bad). She’s cute but a menace to the sound quality of Bad’s microphone. You sign off stream around 2 a.m. with various forms of thanks and kisses blown to the camera. It’s been a refreshing night, actually; you’ve been busy organizing a partnership stream all week and all your friends have been busy filming or editing or what-not. Quackity had time for a little Roblox every couple of days, though. He’s got your back.

The next time you see Sapnap is after a two hour stream of him try-harding in Valorant and you finishing responding to an email from your partnership in the VC.

“Okay, I’m back.” You hear him shift in his chair and click a couple more times on his keyboard. You perk up in your chair, closing the email browser you’d been looking at.

“Do you want to play anything else? I’m down for anything.”

“Absolutely not Uno. You can go to hell for giving me 6 cards that one time,” he jabs. You scoff, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Okay, the +4 was on me but it’s Bad who gave you the last two. That’s not my fault, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, trailing off as the clicking of his keyboard stops. “Hey, um—Guess what?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears at the tone of his voice. He sounds nervous; that’s never good.

“I’m scared to guess,” you try, playing with a little Minecraft dog figurine you have on your desk with fidgety fingers. “What?”

“I bought Animal Crossing.”

Silence. You stare at his discord icon blankly, trying to reroute the wires of your brain.

“Tell me you love it.”

“Well… I haven’t actually played it— but you said you liked it, so.”

“So,” you repeat him, ears warming but continuing on. “Is that what you tell all your friends when you buy something they like? That it's because of them?”

He seems to choose his next words carefully, pausing a beat to consider your questions.

“Well, I don’t have a crush on all of my friends.”

“You—what?” You stutter, caught off guard and stumbling. What did he just say? “Don’t tell me you mean you have a crush on me.”

“I’m almost positive I just did.” His discord icon stares right back at you, taunting.

“You know, you’re very casual for someone who just admitted they like-like me.” Your cheeks flush pink and you have to press a hand to your chest to keep your breathing sounding stable.

“Yeah, I’m kind of cool like that,” he offers, a huff of a laugh punctuating his statement. The conversation moves into a lull that you can’t help but know is because of you. He must expect you to say something about it, right?

“You are very cool, Sapnap.” You tilt back in your chair, sucking in a breath to prepare yourself for your next words. “And—Isortakindofhaveacrushonyoutoo.”

He must understand you, for you can hear the grin in his voice when he asks “Really?”

“Y-yeah.” You feel like a preteen again, all shaky and giddy in front of the boy you just asked to a middle school dance.

“Um, alright. What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you answer genuinely and swing in a happy little circle in your chair. “We could play Animal Crossing.”

“I’m down.”

You swear you’ve never heard more beautiful words.

He keeps his camera off for most of the time you two play, too focused on creating his island and asking you questions about how to fish to turn it on. He silently flips it on when you help him decorate his lawn, needing to show you in real-time the decorations he has bought and where you think he should put them. He looks cute. I mean, of course he does. He always does.

You tell him goodbye late in the night, eyes saying a little more than just “see you tomorrow”.

You like him. He likes you.

It’s even better when you two have matching gardens.

-

A/N: anybody and everybody (especially my precious hailey) let me know what you think!! :]

[vantemania]

Blossoming

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

➤ Genre: Fluff, crack

➤ Pairing: Jungkook x Y/N

➤ Word count: 1.1k

➤ A/N: This is just a super fluffy nervous Jungkook drabble I couldn't help thinking of the first time I saw him in that fit. It's pre-date btw! Imagine in the second gif he's got that date on his mind~ all cute & overthinking things 💛 ALSO, I have to say — when I chose the ahem... combination of the outfit Taehyung picks, I had no idea Tae had truly put those things together before irl... (& made it look amazing ofc)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"No one told me it would be this hard!" Dragging his hands down his face, Jungkook stared at his wardrobe with pure resentment. Everyone was always commenting on how 'boyfriend' he dressed, so why the fuck couldn't he figure out what to wear for a date?

Jungkook cast a longing look at his oversized T-shirts and collection of hoodies; he'd return to them soon. But for tonight, he needed something more... refined.

Earlier in the week, Jungkook had finally worked up the courage to ask you on a date. He'd been pining after you ever since you tripped over your own feet and spilled the contents of your bag, revealing anime keychains and video game themed pens. When he returned your Mario pen to you and you smiled in embarrassment, uttering a quiet thank you — he knew he wanted to be the reason you smiled from then on, and he needed to know what the sound of your laughter was like. It wasn't love at first sight, but he certainly felt something bloom in his chest.

The door to Jungkook's room inched open silently. Taehyung peeked in, taking in the scene before him. It appeared as though Jungkook's entire wardrobe was scattered about his room. Taehyung had experienced the maknae's indecision on an outfit before, but he'd never seen it this bad. Glancing at Jungkook, Taehyung noticed his hands were covering his face. He was still oblivious to Taehyung's presence. The boy seemed to be going through a crisis already, so Taehyung decided to be nice and spook him as little as possible.

With a tiny knock on the open door, Taehyung broke Jungkook out of his mental monologue. "Uh... I heard shouting and things crashing so I... came to check on you."

At the sound of his hyung's voice, Jungkook startled, his hands dropping from his face immediately. Taehyung snickered at the look of bewilderment mixed with something else... desperation? On Jungkook's face. "Looks like you could use some help?"

Hope dawned on the maknae's face, previously distraught eyes now sparkling. "Please? I don't have anything to wear," he whined.

With a tilt of his head, Taehyung smirked at the pleading look on Jungkook's face. "I'm sure I have a thing or two I could lend you for the night."

»»---------------------►

Jungkook checked himself out in the full length mirror in the hallway — he was never convinced it was a necessary component in the apartment before, but Jin had insisted on it, saying no home was complete without a full length mirror, and how else was he supposed to see just how handsome he looked that day?

Today, however, Jungkook was thankful. He fluffed his hair one more time — just to shake it out of his eyes — before taking a deep breath and heading down the hallway. Exhaling, he closed his eyes momentarily, a grin forming on his face. He was finally going to see you outside of class. Nervous didn't even begin to explain how he felt right then. Giddy, excited, antsy, terrified? He hoped you wouldn't think he was weird. All signs so far had pointed to you not hating him — hell, he'd take what he could get, just to see you smile was enough for him. With this on his mind, Jungkook bounded into the living room, a spring in his step.

Namjoon, who was lounging on the sofa watching TV, took one look at the boy who was practically vibrating with nerves and glee. "Jungkook." He muted the TV. "Come here for a second."

Halting mid-step, Jungkook obeyed, curious as to what his hyung wanted to say. Maybe he'd offer some sage advice? Or wish him good luck?

"Yes Namjoon hyung?" He answered, stepping in front of Namjoon's seated figure.

The older boy took a moment to scan Jungkook from head to toe. "You're going on a date?”

"Yes~" Jungkook beamed, a bright toothy smile enveloping his face.

"It's the first date, right?" Namjoon asked, quirking his brow. His eyes landed on one target. No, two.

Under his intense gaze, Jungkook shifted his feet. "Yes," he answered again, starting to feel his anxiety from earlier returning.

Namjoon took a deep breath. He considered how lucky the boys were to have a hyung like him to guide them. "I would reconsider that outfit."

Jungkook froze. "Wh- but why hyung?" He looked at himself, suddenly self conscious. He really thought he and Taehyung had come up with a solid first date look.

It took everything in Namjoon to not just deadpan his response. Namjoon settled on sighing instead. "Taehyung helped you, didn't he?"

"Ah... he did. Why?" Jungkook shifted back and forth on his feet, fingers fiddling with one another.

With a chuckle under his breath, Namjoon shook his head. Of course. "Jungkook. I admire Taehyung's sense of style most days, but you can't go on your first date wearing Gucci slippers and plaid pants."

»»---------------------►

Returning from his room, Jungkook crossed the hallway to Namjoon's room — where he had migrated to after trying to save Jungkook from making the mistake of being too..? Eccentric. For his first date with you. Impressions were everything, after all.

Namjoon glanced away from his computer's monitor as the younger boy entered. "There, now doesn't that feel so much better?" he asked, appraising the new and improved outfit.

Adjusting the sleeves on his yellow button-up, Jungkook grinned. "Do you really think she'll like this, hyung?"

Namjoon gave him a once over. "Well, if she has any taste, she will," he said.

The grin on Jungkook's face widened, crinkling his eyes. "I guess I'm about to find out," he replied, checking his watch.

"Go get 'em kid," Namjoon said, regarding the maknae leaving his room with a fondness in his eyes.

Jungkook reached the front door, after patting himself down to make sure he didn't forget anything. Phone, wallet, keys... He should be good.

His phone buzzed right after he patted his pocket to check it — a text from you saying you were on your way to meet him. A shy smile tugged at his lips.

Jungkook quickly texted you an answer before pocketing his phone and opening the door to his home. With one look over his shoulder before leaving, he adjusted the sleeves to his shirt once more and grinned.

"Let's get it."

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Imagine if the suitors went to the beach for a whole day in the modern world...what crazy crap do you think will happen

Here are a handful of crazy and/or cute headcanons that came to mind! :D

-Mozart swatting away seagulls because HE IS TRYING TO EAT IN PEACE

-Jeanne watching him, MC offering him two water guns with a silent nod (sunglasses on, we’re going full meme)

-Jeanne then proceeds to shoot at them (no gulls were harmed in making of this promotional video) and his aim is impeccable it would be disturbing if the thwarted squawking wasn’t so funny

-Little kids start swarming around Jeanne asking how he’s so amazing and wanting to play team battles, inviting him to join

-Napoleon encourages him, and even Mozart joins in despite not liking getting wet very much (he wants Jeanne to have some positive fun times bc he BIIIIIIIG depressy)

-In the end they both admit to having fun, and one of the kids even teaches Jeanne a special ten step handshake (Jeanne has no idea what that was but the kiddo was smiling so he figured he’d go with it)

-HE AND MOZART STILL SECRETLY USE THE HANDSHAKE FOR FUNSIES BUT TELL NO ONE BECAUSE THEY DON’T LIKE F U N DON’T LOOK AT THEM

-Dazai, alternatively, gathers the fallen gull army and becomes their god with a singular cylinder of Pringles. No I will not elaborate--THE SEA GULLS GOT HER!!!!!!!!

-Spends most of the beach day wetting his feet in the tide pools and talking very earnestly to the gulls about this new thing he learned about called tax evasion while people pass by this fucker in full kimono at the beach and are convinced he’s lost it

-Dazai is very much not sane but we knew this already, offers sea shells to little kids that ask him what he’s doing and tells them to listen to the secrets bird friends can tell them

-If Dazai sounds like an Animal Crossing Villager, that was entirely by accident but remains no less true

-Surprising absolutely no one, Arthur suggests volley ball after watching people play and invites some pretty ladies to join him

-Arthur ends up needing two more people to play, so he invites Vincent and Theo (Vincent is so excited about trying something new that Theo can’t say no despite wanting to make a volleyball-shaped crater in Arthur’s face)

-The funniest part about the volleyball game is that not only is Arthur a shit player (CANON WEAK ARMS FOOL) Theo destroys with his spikes, and Vincent’s reach is insane--the two brothers end up becoming the talk of the beach

-I just laugh imagining Vincent sincerely complimenting people around him and the ladies swooning because he’s just so nice and pretty is he even real

-Men aren’t happy about that^TM but at the sight of Theo’s defensive glower they keep their malicious traps shut--which turn on whichever girls weren’t interested in Vincent jahkslgjh

-**Kaguyasama narrator voice** Today on Arthur Shenanigans: Arthur loses

-Poor Isaac is hiding under the umbrella clutching sunscreen bc HE IS A PASTY BOY HELP HIM

-MC brought a few of the newest Maths/Physics books in her time for him to read, and while he doesn’t enjoy the intensity of the sun--not like vamp weakness, it’s just the strain on his body (too many stimuli too many people too much noise) that makes him tired and ultimately thirsty bc aberrant. But the change of scenery's not so bad.......

-MC laughs when she gets out of the water and the salt dries visibly on her skin, Isaac’s eyes bug out and he asks if it hurts (startles when Leo flicks sea water at him and asks how on earth they got in the water when it’s so cold!!!)

-Leo chats with him and he likes being able to draw theorems and the like in the sand, it’s like one big chalkboard (until a kid tramples across them in the middle of writing, POPPYCOCK!). Isaac ultimately has fun but prefers to stay inside poor bub

-Leonardo, surprising no one, falls asleep in the sand the second he gets there HE IS HOME (Italian beaches, amirite)

-MC decides to, after a point, bury him fully in the sand for shits

-Comte notices and aids in her shenanigans from his beach chair, snickering the whole time

-When the two are satisfied they go for a swim together, trusting Leo to look after Isaac if need be (even if he’s a mummy rn)

-Comte is relieved to hear that she knows how to swim, but also watches carefully and doesn’t let her drift out too far by keeping closer to the shore himself (riptides!!!! can be!!!!!!! dangerous!!!!!!!!!!) if he had his way (he would never impose but he worries ;-;) she’d be wearing floaties SAFETY FIRST

-They splash at each other like maniacs and chat amiably until they start swimming away as fast as possible when Leo wakes up, laughing

-How do we know that Leo woke up?

-Because he sat up ramrod straight and a tower of sand fell. He then proceeded to jump up and sprint to the water despite Isaac’s startled cries about being careful, and swam after them like a shark to get his revenge (it was like something out of an anime s2g)

-Mostly just tugs on MC’s leg, picks her up in the water, and yeets her across in retaliation; really harmless, she’s cackling the whole time

-Dunks Comte’s head in the water while he’s being scolded, and MC has to de-escalate their increasingly dangerous shenanigans before the life guard comes after them LMFAO

-They concede only bc MC looks sad/worried abt being kicked out, and agree to keep things fun FIGHT TO THE DEATH LATER TONIGHT

-Napoleon goes for a nice long walk along the shoreline and climbs the rocks if he finds any til he gets to the top (he does not go to his happy place HE GOES TO HIS HIGH LONESOME PLACE) wishes that Jupiter could be here to enjoy the brine

-Our boy Napoleon is simply just vibin he loves the beach. A little further off the sound of people is p muted, it’s just the crashing waves and crisp smell of salt, the light breeze ruffling his hair 

-Sebas is absolutely watching through binoculars and writing down how majestic Napoleon is while making sure no one gets lost/wrecked as he takes notes

Bonus: since volleyball games can often happen back to back on a sizable beach, the boys^TM were playing and Arthur called out “Theo duck!!!!” and just as Theo was saying “Are you fucking kidding me did you really think I’d--T H W A C K” Theo gets nailed in the back of the head (Arthur later died after being put in a headlock)

Shakespeare didn’t feel like playing volley ball and didn’t have much else to do (can’t swim and has no interest), so he just sat back and tried to throw Theo off his game as much as possible 

Por ejemplo: Theo misses a serve and Shakespeare just “For never was there a story of more woe; O bard Alexa, verily, play us Despacito” “SHUT THE FUCK UP”

Jeanne also gets hit by a stray volley ball, but when Vincent said “Oh no, Jeanne, duck!” he has one of either two reactions: 1. Boulevard of Broken Dreams plays obnoxiously loud as he dodges inhumanly fast 2. he quacks, gets nailed, and doesn’t react because he doesn’t have any brain cells to damage

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What if...? Part 8

Yeah, so we ended up with 9 parts (plus possibly an epilogue, depending on how long 9 turns out) instead of 4... or 5... or 7/8... As I said; I’ve given up restraining this story as you lovely, lovely enablers kept throwing encouraging fuel to the writing fire and muse molotovs at me. The comments and reblogs are cat nip to a writer and I am a weak, weak soul who can only say; thank you so much <3

-

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Part 8

Davarax has to be tired and Dulsissia can see places on his underarmor that is scorched and torn, which tells her he probably has new scars to join his old ones, but he ignores it all in favour of catching up with what has happened in the children’s lives.

Paz doesn’t seem to mind the others bombarding him with questions too, especially about the helmet, he’s grown even taller and seem to have gained some muscle, but Dulsissia feels a tiny twinge in her heart at that he also seem more quiet and subdued than before.

Maybe it is just the side-effect of having spent over a year with his father that close? Maybe things will become more normal now that Paz is back with the other children? Dulsissia hopes so. But she wouldn’t place any credits on it.

It’s surprisingly difficult to let go of them when the time comes, so Dulsissia aims the words to herself as much as the children when she explains that Davarax and Paz need to rest for a bit. And, yeah, get cleaned up. But how about they have a welcome home meal later?

It’s a bittersweet event. Dulsissia wants to kick herself when she watches Paz sit by the table and be unable to eat anything. His t-visor rests occasionally on the food, but he doesn’t comment on it.

Needing to distract herself from the sight, Dulsissia turns to Barthor. “Can you hand me the water, baby?”

Sighing as if greatly put upon, Barthor reaches out and hands her the water pitcher. “You know, I’m going to be the next to get the helmet. I’m not a baby, so maybe not refer to me as one?”

A completely irrational burst of anger flares up inside her and Dulsissia snaps her fingers at him. “Hey.” She snaps her fingers at the rest of them, gaining everyone’s attention. “I’m going to make something perfectly clear here and now. You? You are all my babies. All of you. I don’t care how old you are, how many helmets you put on, whatever right or wrong you do, whether you’re fifty and have babies of your own, even grandbabies, I don’t care; I’m going to call you my babies. Deal with it.”

Barthor flushes a deep red, Din blinks wide-eyed, Raga shrugs and Corin merely keeps eating as he resigned himself to his fate years ago. Paz… She has no idea how he responds. He looks at her, but the helmet hides his expression and he remains silent.

“I assume that includes me as well then?” Davarax drawls, leaning back in his chair. “Since you said ‘all of you’? Nice. I’m going to be the first baby ever with stubbles.”

That has the children laughing and Dulsissia to be the one blushing. She gathers herself and looks directly into his t-visor. “I guess so. Baby.”

The children laugh even more, but Davarax picks up on the suggestive tone of her voice and she can almost see him choke on his smugness. Hah.

At the end of the evening, Dulsissia makes sure to bundle up some of the food in a box that she hands to Paz by the door. “Here you go. I added some sweets too. Don’t tell the others.”

Paz huffs a faint laugh. He’s clearly spent time with Davarax too, by the sound of it. Then, after a moment of hesitation, Paz moves forward, slides his arms around her waist and hugs her close.

Closing her eyes, Dulsissia instantly leans down to wrap her own arms around him. “Welcome home, baby.” She whispers and her heart aches when she feels a faint shiver go through him.

And when the boy doesn’t let go, keeps holding on to her, a little too tight, Dulsissia has to fight the urge to try to pick Paz up and carry him like she’ll do to the smaller children.

Eventually Paz does let go, steps away and reaches out a hand, which Raga is quick to take and the children start to flood out of the room, until it is only Corin left, who starts cleaning off the table, and Dulsissia who walks over to the door to say good night to Davarax.

Leaning against the door frame, he reaches out and tucks a lock her hair behind her ear. “I really did miss you.” His voice so very soft and gentle.

Dulsissia struggles to look up at his t-visor, smiling. “Good.” She tugs lightly at the fabric just above his breastplate. “Because I missed you too. Are you okay? I saw the damage to your clothes.”

“Yeah, just minor injuries. Had to clean up a little rabble, but with Dez going through them like a hammerhead corvette, they weren’t a problem for long.”

Long enough for Davarax to be injured. Does Paz have scars too now? Dulsissia feels another rush of gratitude that they’d made it home. “You’re going to stay for a while now, right?”

“Absolutely.” Davarax’ gloved fingers come up to touch her lips for the briefest of seconds, then his hand move over to cup her face and he leans down so they can ever so gently touch foreheads, a modest touch in front of Corin’s suspicious eyes. “Good night, Dulcy.” He straightens and looks over at Corin. “Good night, Corin.”

“Good night,” Corin replies, “I’m glad you’re home again.”

“Me too.” Davarax replies, takes a final glance at Dulsissia and then walks back to his own room.

Knowing he’s right across the hall and yet also aware of how he needs to rest more than… anything else leaves Dulsissia squirming in her bed all night and very grumpy in the morning.

-

Her bad mood doesn’t get to last long. She and Corin have barely eaten breakfast before there is a knock on her door and she finds an uncharacteristically energetic Davarax.

“If you have something planned today, cancel it.” He blurts out.

Blinking wide-eyed, Dulsissia then raises an eyebrow. “Okay?”

Davarax turns to leave, but pauses and looks back at her. “And maybe tomorrow too. Yeah, cancel tomorrow too.”

He’s gone before she can ask any questions so she sends her son a quizzical look.

Corin looks equally puzzled and can merely shrug in response.

It’s about two hours later that Davarax appears again. He’s got a bag hanging on his right shoulder and the other children with bags of their own behind him. “We’re heading out.”

Curious, Corin wanders over to where Dulsissia is standing in the doorway and she automatically yanks him close so not get infected by whatever insanity has struck Davarax. “Out? Who? Where?”

“You, me, the kids.” Davarax gestures.

Dulsissia shakes her head, confused and increasingly worried. “But… it’s not allowed. Is it?”

“Not usually, no.” Davarax admits, gesturing her to come with them. “But I, uh, asked nicely.”

“We did it once before.” Raga pipes up, all smiles and excitement. “It was awesome!”

To her surprise, Dulsissia sees even Din is almost bouncing with happy energy. She looks over at her son, who is increasingly affected by the insanity despite her best efforts. He is grinning up at her with a hopeful look on his little face.

“Please, mommy? Please?”

“We’ll look after you two.” Paz declares.

Dulsissia looks over at Davarax, who tilts his head a little and says; “Trust me?”

Sighing, she shrugs. “Okay.”

It’s unnerving to to leave the Covert with the kids in tow. Heading into Nevarro by herself is scary enough, which means Dulsissia is ready to fire her blaster at her own shadow if it so much as looks at the children wrong.

Davarax leads them out of the city, he seems relaxed and confident enough, and Dulsissia actually feels a hint of fondness when she sees the less-than-shiny ship that had brought her and her son to safety.

Din actually runs ahead and Davarax presses the button on his vambrace to lower the ramp for the boy. And of course, where Din goes, Corin follows.

“I don’t get his fascination with that ship.” Barthor drawls, before casting a quick glance up at Davarax. “No offence.”

Davarax hums. “You’re riding in the back for that one, kiddo.”

“Oh, come on!” Barthor whines and Raga cackles at his misfortune before she jumps up on Paz’ back and he carries her on board the ship.

The surprises continue when the Razor Crest do not set course for space but heads west and keeps going west. Dulsissia peeks out the transparisteel, trying to tell herself not to be worried that Davarax is letting Din fly the ship more or less by himself and is fascinated by how the volcanic landscape turns more and more green and lush. Soon there are rivers and trees and even animal life.

It’s beautiful.

“Do you see it?” Davarax asks, standing next to to the pilot seat, one hand on Din’s shoulder and one hand on Corin’s shoulder as he stands next to the Mandalorian; mute with awe.

“I see it.” Din replies, flicking some switches and pressing some buttons. “Going in for landing.”

Davarax turns his head and shouts to the ones in the cargo area: “Buckle in, womp rats! We’re about to land!”

In her usual seat, Dulsissia flinches a little at the loudness but waves off Davarax’ sheepish apology.

She’s curious now. What is this place?

The landing is bumpy and a little scary, she can see Davarax about to intervene, but Din does manage to set the ship down without killing them all.

Outside the ship, they step into the gentle sunlight and the smell of damp soil and Dulsissia is amazed. She’s never seen such lush greenery. This is very different from the sterile enviroment of Seswenna, where everything is controlled and dictated by humans and what they deem to be in fashion, the polluted city she and Corin had met Davarax in or the dust-covered Nevarro.

Davarax picks up his bag and hers before gingerly nudging her with his shoulder, “Come.” and walks off.

She follows.

-

They come to a halt in a clearing and Davarax starts setting up what looks to be a camp site. He sets the children to different chores and only gives an absent sigh when he kneels next to what will probably become a fire place. “Paz, can you make sure,” Raga runs by him and climbs up the trunk of a nearby tree, “she doesn’t do that…”

Paz shrugs. “She’ll be fine. She got this.”

Davarax hums, not convinced but not visibly surprised by the incident or the response.

A little lost, Dulsissia stands at the outskirts of the site. She tries to hold on to Corin, but that only lasts for a couple of minutes before Corin frees himself to run after the others who take off with determination to finish their chore first. Watching in mild distress, she isn’t sure what to do with herself.

“Having you ever camped outside before?” Davarax asks.

Dulsissia shakes her head. The thought is a bit terrifying, but then she remembers that this last year she has been doing countless things she’s never done before. She can do this too. Taking a breath, she steps forward. “How can I help?”

The hours rush by. Davarax seems to be able to predict whatever madness they get up to, but Dulsissia struggles to keep up with the children exploring everything from tiny bugs to the massive creatures flying overhead, arguing, wrestling and climbing and generally getting incredibly dirty. Yet, she hasn’t heard them laugh so much in… ever?

“We should try to round up the rampant blurrgs and head back to the camp site.” Davarax says some time during mid-day. “We need to feed them before they try to eat each other…”

Dulsissia makes a thoughtful hum. Paz is somewhat clean, but Din and Barthor look like part mud-horns, while both Raga and Corin are more mud than child at the moment. “Yes, but… there is one thing we should do first.”

Davarax looks over at her. “What?”

She grins.

Fifteen minutes later, she wades into the river, still trying to tie up her hair, and proves to the others that stripping down to your underwear and going into the water isn’t going to kill them. Dulsissia learned to swim at a very young age, but she’d never been allowed to bring Corin out to teach him, and it sounds like the Covert children haven’t seen much of rivers and oceans at all.

The river here isn’t too deep, about waist height on her, and the temperature is cool but not cold.

Corin is the first to enter, following his mother like an obedient baby-porg, and once he is in; Din has to follow despite being clearly anxious of the liquid death trap. Raga will not be the accused of cowardice, so she stomps in next and grabs an anxious hold of Din. Barthor hesitates for a long time, but eventually he’s too curious to resist and joins them as well and then the splashing begins.

Davarax and Paz are the only ones who do not enter the water at all, despite the laughter and the splashing and encouragements from the others. Dulsissia suspects Davarax stays on land to keep Paz company.

After almost one hour, she wades back up on land, still laughing at a rather successful splash attack on both Corin and Din as they were trying to gang up on her. “Davarax?” While Paz is sitting cross-legged on the riverbank, Davarax is standing partially turned away and staring at the forest.

Instantly worried, Dulsissia inches over to him. “What’s wrong? Is there something out there?”

“No. No, nothing wrong. Everything is fine.”

Things are clearly not fine. He’s really tense and refuses to stop staring at the forest. “Then why-”

“Listen, if the kids weren’t here, I would be looking at you. Trust me, I would be looking. I would be looking so much. I would not stop looking. But they are here and… so I can’t. Okay?”

Oh.

Stupidly flattered, Dulsissia reaches out and gives him an apologetic pat on the arm. “I’ll get dressed.”

Davarax replies with a tense nod.

After they eat, Dulsissia is in the middle of trying to land a raspberry on the shrieking and flailing Barthor’s neck after he called her old when Davarax orders them up on their feet and to huddle together. He lifts his vambrace and declares it is time for a new holo-picture considering that their family has grown.

It’s a wonderful idea, it only saddens Dulsissia a bit when Davarax seems surprised when she insist on him being in the holo as well. Against all rules, he sets the vambrace on the ground and it scans them all together.

Dulsissia’s big challenge comes when dark has settled and the exhausted children are piled up together next to the camp fire, so deep into sleep that a Star Destroyer couldn’t wake them up. She tries to arrange her blanket on the ground, gingerly removing stick after nasty stick and pointy rock that is determined to poke her everywhere, but sleeping on the ground is not going to be easy.

“Having trouble?” Davarax asks, sounding amused. He’s sitting with his back against the trunk of a tree with his legs stretched out in front of himself, absently whittling away at a small twig.

“A bit.” Dulsissia admits with a sigh and gets up on her knees to stare down at her blanket.

“Hey…” Davarax calls for her to look his way and he sheaths the blade before tossing the twig away and nodding her over. “Come here?”

Smiling a little, Dulsissia gathers up her blanket and makes her way over. She settles next to him and as he lifts his arm to fit her under it, Dulsissia arranges the blanket to cover their legs.

Davarax does his laughter-huff. “I don’t need-”

“Shush. We’re sharing.” Dulsissia states, tucking their legs in before leaning back against him. She’s childishly pleased to feel his arm around her.

The ground is still hard, Davarax’ armor even more so, and still she can hear herself make a satisfied sigh just from being close to him again and being worn out from the day. She feels… happy. Content. “Today was nice. Really nice. Thank you.”

“Thank you.” Davarax says in a solemn voice, quietly, for her ears. “My only comfort while being away was the fact that my kids were in good hands.” He sighs. “Usually when I get back, they... One time I had to spend three hours persuading Din to come out from his hiding place. Do you know this is the first time I’ve come back to smiles instead of tears?”

Dulsissia closes her eyes for a moment, determined not ruin the moment with her tears, and she takes his hand between hers. “It’s like you said; they are good kids. They are. I’m just sad not everyone can see that.” She lifts his hand and presses her lips to the glove. “And I’m so very happy they have you.”

“Us.” Davarax pulls her a little closer. “They have us.”

-

It takes a couple of days for him to catch up on his other obligations to the Covert and only then does Davarax tell Dulsissia to appear thirty minutes before the children, just like that very first time.

“Okay, show me what Decco has taught you.” Davarax says as he walks into the training room in front of her. “Impress me, Dulcy.”

She doesn’t really think. She just acts, assuming he’s prepared. So when her foot shoves hard at the back of his knee, made easy due to her walking behind him, and Davarax goes sprawling with a squawk; Dulsissia is horrified and drops to her knees next to him. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Davarax rolls over on his back and sighs. “Nothing hurt but my pride.” He then actually laughs a little. “Next time I will clarify to wait until we have actually started the lesson.”

Dulsissia awkwardly tucks her hair behind her ear and tries a smile. “At least I managed to knock you down this time.”

“You knocked me off my feet the second you ran to protect your son instead of just fleeing when I shot those men in the alleyway.” Davarax replies in a fond voice. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since.”

Dulsissia’s heart does a flip. It hasn’t done that while he was gone. It feels nice. And a light touch makes her look down and she sees how he is reaching out two fingers on the hand next to her to brush them lightly back and forth across her knee. The contact feels even nicer. She remembers...

She looks down at the floor and her face burns. “Maybe… Maybe we don’t have to train today? Maybe we could… hide in your room for a bit? Do you want that?”

“No.” Davarax replies.

The embarrassment triples and a sting of humiliation hurts bad. She’d just assumed… Her mistake.

Davarax hoists himself up on his left elbow and his right hand comes up to cup the side of her face. “I need more. Less than thirty minutes? It’s not enough. It’s nowhere enough for me. I can’t. I’m sorry, Dulcy, but I need more. I need hours. I need to love you, hold you, savour you...”

His voice is raw with that very need, and the heat in Dulsissia’s face has suddenly nothing to do with embarrassment of humiliation. It feels like all of her is burning.

She lifts her gaze and looks at his t-visor. “Tonight then?”

Davarax’ breath hitches and he only barely manages a faint nod. “If you want to?”

Dulsissia breaks into an embarrassed laugh, having trouble believing this man is real. “I’m the one throwing myself at you here.”

“Technically you kicked me to the floor.” Davarax offers as a weak joke.

They both end up laughing and she gives his arm a half-hearted slap. “And I said I was sorry. Now get up. We have some training to do.”

Davarax grunts. “I thought I was the teacher and you obeyed my every word?”

“You are and I did, but that only ended up with you eating floor, so maybe we should change it up a little?” Dulsissia sends him a challenging look and that finally gets him up on his feet with the snort of an offended bantha. 

Suddenly he’s all business and no play. Dulsissia tries several times, but she fails to send him crashing to the floor again.

Later, when the children emerge, eager to train, she stays to watch. She’s amazed at the progress her son has made since they arrived her. He is not as advanced and smooth as the others, but even without maternal bias involved, Dulsissia can see that Corin is becoming quite the skilled fighter. He’s got talent.

As for the other kids; Barthor lacks strength, but his speed is unmatched. Raga is quite the brawler, willing to take punches if it means winning a fight and absolutely fearless.

The only thing that saddens Dulsissia is the change in Paz. He still supervises the others, corrects them when they do something wrong, but when his fist connects with Corin’s cheekbone and he knocks him down; he does not apologize.

She wonders what Paz has seen, what he went through last year. Some scars aren’t physical.

After training, Corin asks if Din can eat at their place and Dulsissia nods. It’s the same question, every day, and she always gives the same answer. But today it also gives her the opportunity to ask a question of her own.

“Can I ask you something?” Dulsissia leans against the wall next to where Davarax is standing, prodding at his vambrace.

“Sure.” He replies, not looking up from whatever he’s doing.

“Din’s parents. His Mandalorian parents. Why did you choose them?”

Davarax pauses and finally looks up at her. “I didn’t. I mean, I agreed to it. I don’t know her too well, but I’ve served with his father in the Fighting Corps. He’s a loyal man. A good Mandalorian.”

“Din is not happy there.”

Davarax sighs and looks over at where the boys are disappearing out the door. “I know.”

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Dulsissia asks. “Or, is there anything I can do?”

“I’ll talk to them.”

-

It’s almost funny. Dulsissia would laugh if she wasn’t so frustrated. In her youth, she had waited impatiently for Antonia to fall asleep so she could sneak out to meet boys. Now, a mother herself, she is waiting for her son to fall asleep so she can sneak out to meet a man.

No, not just ‘a man’. Davarax. Her heart does another flip at the very thought.

“Mom, are you okay?” Corin asks, a little concerned, bless his soul. He’s sitting in his bed, reading, blissfully calm after a long day of hard work pretending to be a bounty hunter with the others.

Dulsissia looks over at him, realizes she’s forgotten to pretend to be reading as well and is just tapping a nail restlessly at the datapad instead. She puts on a smile. “I’m fine, baby. I’m just thinking about what to get you for your birthday, that’s all. You keep reading.”

Corin beams her a happy smile before obediently going back to his story.

Dulsissia closes her eyes and wills time to speed up.

Time seems to drag on even more slowly, but after about a million standard years, Dulsissia finally dares to slip out of bed and tiptoe out of the room.

Her heart is racing and her pulse is thumping in her veins and she’s not even in the same room as Davarax! At least this time she’s had the good sense to put on something more flattering than the white sack, plus made sure her hair doesn’t look like the backside of a wookiee. And when she gingerly knocks on the door and it opens to reveal Davarax without his armor, merely his clothes, she knows he’s been thinking about this as much as she has.

She steps inside the room, the door closes behind her and for a second she and Davarax are just looking at each other. Unbearable hunger pulsating between them. A craving so strong Dulsissia doesn’t even want to resist it. She wants to be loved, held and savoured.

The second she steps towards him, he moves towards her. When her hands reach up and her arms go around his neck, his hands reach down and take a hold of her hips, lifting her up like she weighs nothing. Holding on to each other like they die if they didn’t, he carries her towards the bed.

Davarax had said hours and he had meant it. Dulsissia is amazed to find his hunger doesn’t stop between the bouts of lovemaking that leave her gasping for air. Instead she shivers with soft happiness as he trails his bare hands over her naked skin and whispers his love for all of her, body and soul. There is actual reverence in both of his voice and his touch. He sounds like a man in love.

Dulsissia gets to learn him as well and memorizes it all. He has two new scars. His neck is really sensitive. He goes weak when her lips touches his skin. And she can almost lull him to sleep by gently running her fingers up and down his back for a little while. She loves him so much it hurts.

An interesting revelation comes when Dulsissia declares that those tiny refresher showers could not fit two people, not in a billion standard years, and Davarax proves her wrong. Now she can never shower again without blushing…

For the last hour, all they do is lie curled up together in his bed, sharing each other’s warmth, watching with lazy satisfaction as their fingers play together in a slow, pointless dance of touching, braiding, stroking.

Content. There’s that word again.

Dulsissia is sad to leave, by the time she’s by the door they have already been through three kov’nyns and she pauses a final time to burrow her face to his neck and inhale the scent of him before forcing herself to leave. Davarax doesn’t let go until he absolutely has to.

They will have this again, Dulsissia tells herself. Don’t worry. They will definitely have this again.

And while her own bed feels lonely and cold, it still doesn’t take long before Dulsissia falls into an exhausted and satisfied sleep.

Three hours later, Corin has to call her name twice before she reluctantly opens her eyes and forces herself out of bed to start the day. She’s still half-asleep when they eat breakfast.

“Are you sure you’re okay, mom?” Corin asks, frowning. “You look tired.”

Dulsissia hides her smile behind her second cup of caf. “I’m okay, sweetie. I promise. I’m more than okay. I’m really good. And to prove it, I am going to bake those sugar cookies today and you guys can have as many as you want after training. I’ll pack some for Paz. How does that sound?”

Corin lights up, beaming with delight. “That sounds awesome. You are the best, mom.”

“So I’ve been told.” Dulsissia mumbles with smug delight, sipping more caf.

She plans her day thoroughly, making sure to have time free when she knows Davarax will have time off and hopes that maybe they can spend time together. One of the first things she does is grab her cookies and head up to Nevarro while Corin and Din are working on some project with Barthor.

It’s kind of funny how several of her regular buyers are some of the scruffiest looking bounty hunters in the city, but Dulsissia knows they are a lot kinder than they look.

She does not expect, after finishing a transaction, to hear a horribly familiar voice.

“Dulsissia?”

Her blood runs ice cold, fear clamps around her heart, and Dulsissia needs a moment before she slowly turns around and faces the one who had spoken. It’s him. How is it possible? How did he find her? “Vecon.”

-

Short, dark hair combed back into slick order, the same cold grey eyes as Macero, the younger and less handsome brother, Vecon Valentis studies her from head to toe and then snorts a laugh. “It is you. What are you doing here on Nevarro? Wow. You look a mess, Dulsissia. How the mighty Motti has fallen, eh?” Vecon scouts the surroundings. “Where is the kid?”

Cold sweat is breaking out on her skin. Dulsissia tries to keep a neutral expression on her face. “I ran out of funds. Couldn’t feed him. So I left him on a different planet with some kind souls and told them I’d be back for him.”

Vecon looks at her, digests the words and ends up shrugging. “Oh well. We’ll find him. If he’s still alive.”

She will never let him get his hands on Corin. Never. Dulsissia turns to run, but four storm troopers are now standing there. She swallows hard, forcing the panic away, before turning back to face her former brother-in-law.

“Don’t bother trying to run.” Vecon drawls, picking up a package with cookies from her small make-shift table and he studies them. “My brother wants you back and I would hate to have to mess up that pretty face of yours.” He drops the cookies to the ground and smirks. “Are you going to come nicely? Please say yes.”

Dulsissia knows he’s hoping she’ll say no. While Vecon has nothing personally against her and probably won’t harm her unprovoked, she has wronged his brother and that cannot be forgiven. She could try to run, but odds are against her. Five of them, one of her. She has a weapon, but so do they and while they most likely wouldn’t shoot to kill, it would be easier to escape without a blaster wound to slow her down. Also, even if she did manage to run, where would she run to? There is no way she will lead them to the Covert.

No, better go with them and find a way to escape before they get to Macero.

Dulsissia sticks her chin out. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Vecon smiles and steps forward, his boot crunching the cookies under it, reaching out to twirl a blonde lock of her hair around his index finger. “Excellent.” He glances down her body. “Hand over your weapons, please.”

Of course he won’t let her keep her weapons, but Dulsissia still hesitates. Davarax had given her these weapons. They were gifts from him. That makes them precious to her. “What if I promise not to use them?”

Vecon chuckles and gestures to the storm troopers, who don’t hesitate to grab her arms and start pawing all over her to look for weapons. Fighting against them is pointless, but she still struggles.

“Bring her.” Vecon orders once the blaster and blade are claimed and they proclaim her safe.

Dulsissia tugs angrily to free herself from the soldiers’ grip on her arms, but she walks with them.

Get them away from the Covert. Get them away from her loved ones. Then escape. Somehow.

A meagre comfort is how the many eyes watching this will at least inform Davarax of what happened and her son will be cared for.

A massive vehicle is waiting at the outskirts of Nevarro and Dulsissia is brought on board with Vecon and the storm troopers to join another group already seated there. Every soldier present is watching her with curiosity, more than one white helmet tilts and gives them an almost innocent look of inquisitiveness, but she knows these are people who wouldn’t kill her if ordered to do so.

The drive is bumpy and uncomfortable, but Dulsissia barely notices. She sits, back straight and stares emptily ahead at the wall, thinking about what Corin will think when she doesn’t come back. The Covert will have no trouble uncovering what has happened to her, but the thought of the fear her son will feel is killing her. His father is suddenly so very close and he has lost his mother for who knows how long? Forever?

No. Not forever.

Dulsissia will find her way back to him. To them. She will.

They arrive at the base and she is brought inside by the ones who had dragged her out of Nevarro. Vecon is talking on some communication device, clearly rescheduling his plans as he has something more important to do; bring back his brother’s property.

Shortly after that, she’s brought on board a huge imperial ship and locked away in a small, bare room clearly designed for prisoners a lot more dangerous than her.

Dulsissia sits down on the hard bench meant to be a bed, draws her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. She doesn’t cry. She refuses to cry. She won’t give Vecon that.

A meal is brought to her twice a day, but otherwise she is left to slowly rot from boredom and fear.

Then comes the day when an officer steps inside her cell and holds out a bundle of clothes towards her.

“You are to wear this.” The woman orders with cold distaste. “The Colonel will see you in fifteen minutes. Make yourself presentable.”

-

The doors slide open and Dulsissia steps into the room where Vecon is sitting. The table in front of him is covered with all kinds of luxury food that Dulsissia used to love and hasn’t tasted since she left home. The smirk on Vecon’s face says he suspects this fact.

Forcing herself to smile, Dulsissia walks over to the chair drawn out for her at the opposite side of the table.

“Better.” Vecon says, lifting a fancy looking glass with red liquid and giving her a mock toast. “Much better.”

He’s referring to the dress she’s wearing. A beautiful and smooth thing in a glorious teal colour.

Sitting down, holding on to her smile through pure will power, Dulsissia can’t hide the anger in her eyes. “I never pictured you for a man of fashion, Vecon?”

“I’m not.” The man confirms, taking a sip. “But I can’t have my brother’s wife wandering around looking like something… cheap.”

The insult burns. It shouldn’t, she knows that. There was nothing wrong with the clothes she had been wearing. But the words burn and she feels angry with herself. “I’m sure he will be very grateful.”

“Oh, I know he will be.” Vecon puts the glass down and picks at something on his plate. “He’s been very determined to find you, Dulcy.”

“Don’t call me that.” Dulsissia growls with such intensity and anger it surprises him.

Dropping whatever he was holding between his fingers, Vecon goes from surprise to amusement. Chuckling, he sits up straighter and pays actual attention to her. “Well, well, has the loth-kitten grown claws? Was that attitude I heard? Not just snooty Motti condescension, but actual attitude?”

Dulsissia gives him a sour smile.

Vecon shrugs and gestures for her to eat. “I like my women spicy, so I’m pleased to hear it. Macero, as you know, won’t like that one bit.” He takes another sip of his glass. “I’ve sent him a message and expect to hear back from him any day now. He’s on a mission, I cannot disclose his whereabouts as it is top secret, but I think he’ll take some time off to greet you on your return.”

Fear gnaws in Dulsissia’s belly. She stares at her plate, unable to eat a single thing.

“There is one thing I need to know.” Vecon drones on. “Where is the kid?”

“I told you.”

“Yeah, you did.” Vecon sets his grey stare in her. “And now I want you to tell the truth.”

Dulsissia just stares at her plate.

“Don’t make this difficult for the both of us.” Vecon says. “I will find him, eventually. You know that. I’m inclined to say he’s back on Nevarro, but then I also think you might have been more reluctant to leave if he was. Maybe I should level the place just to be sure?”

Closing her eyes, trying to block out his words, Dulsissia feels sick to her stomach. Vecon is capable of doing just that. She knows he is. Not merely because he has the soldiers and firepower to do it, but because he’d enjoy doing it.

Macero and Vecon are frightfully similar in many ways, but where Macero is cold and efficient, Vecon is less clever and more randomly cruel. It’s what has kept him from advancing further in the army, unlike his brother who has met the Emperor himself.

Macero wouldn’t care if an orphanage caught fire as long as it benefited him, Vecon would stay to listen to the screams.

“Just tell me, Dulsissia.” Vecon says with a friendly smile so fake it wouldn’t fool a blind man. “My brother wants his son back. He misses him. How could you take Corin away from his father?”

“Burn Nevarro to the ground. Bomb the planet from orbit. I don’t care.” Dulsissia bluffs, raising her gaze to meet his with cold contempt. “You won’t find him there.”

Clicking his tongue, Vecon studies her for a while and then gestures to the guards. “Take her back to her cell.”

Dulsissia gets up.

“And you can leave the knife.” Vecon says, not looking up from piling food on to his own plate.

Clenching her jaw, Dulsissia places the butter knife back on the table, turns and walks out of the room.

-

How many days has it been? It’s hard to tell in this coffin of a room. Dulsissia spends the time either lying on the bench or pacing back and forth the two and a half steps it takes from covering the distance from one wall to the next.

When two guards come to fetch her, Dulsissia is almost grateful. Her mind is tormenting her with all kinds of scenarios of what her boy must be going through so even Vecon is a welcome distraction.

They bring her to a different place this time. The door opens to reveal some kind of communication room and she sees Vecon standing there, in the middle of the room with his back towards her, and Dulsissia braces herself. Will it be more threats? Bargaining this time, maybe?

What she doesn’t expect it Vecon stepping aside and revealing Macero’s holo-image.

“Dulsissia.” Macero’s voice greets her.

“Macero.” Dulsissia whispers back. She can’t move. Can’t look away.

“I have been looking for you.” Macero says, his voice is flat but his eyes are angry. “I’ve been very worried. You can imagine my relief when Vecon sent me a message that he’d found you.”

Vecon grins.

Dulsissia says nothing.

“He also tells me you will not give up the location of my son.” Macero continues.

His son? Dulsissia feels a flicker of fury burn in her belly. He hadn’t shown one ounce of interest in ‘his’ son until there was talk about sending him away. Macero had been pleased when she’d told him she was pregnant, but she’d been more or less on her own for the next nine months except for when they were posing for her family. Macero had shown up again a mere hour after Corin was born, inspected the child and nodded with approval before leaving again.

Growing up, Corin had been desperate for his father’s attention and time, but he never gave it to him. “Do you even remember his name?” Dulsissia can’t hide the bitterness in her voice.

“Of course I remember his name” Macero does not take the bait. “Tell me where he is.”

“No.”

Macero stares at her with those cruel eyes of his and then turns his attention to Vecon. “Bring her to Seswenna. Stay with her and make sure she gets a lot of rest. She probably shouldn’t talk to anyone. It’s been a tough experience for my dear wife and she needs time to recover.”

“Understood.” Vecon replies, like a good soldier. He always did whatever his brother told him to do.

“Don’t do this, Macero.” Dulsissia asks, taking a step forward. “Just let me go. You won’t ever see me again. Tell them I died or something.”

“What I’m going to do is find my son.” Macero replies with cold contempt. “And you, my dear wife, will stop your pathetic whining and go back home. You are going to stay there, put on a happy face and give me sons and daughters.”

Exhaling sharply, Dulsissia shakes her head. “I’m not some pawn in your plan, Macero.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Macero doesn’t even blink. “That is exactly what you are. Our children will be Mottis and not even your family can deny that. They may dislike me, but they can’t turn their back on their own blood.”

She hates herself as frustrated and frightened tears well up in her eyes, but Dulsissia can’t stop it. “I won’t be a part of it. I refuse. Do you hear me?”

Vecon snickers and for a second there is almost pity in Macero’s eyes before they go cold again and he gives his final orders to Vecon and the holo-image blinks out.

Shivering, Dulsissia stares at the floor and tries to remember how to breathe. She is brought back to reality when something takes a hold of her chin and Vecon lifts her face to grin down at her.

“Let’s get you home, Motti Princess.”

Fury and disgust flares up in her and Dulsissia’s eyes narrow. “Always obeying orders from big brother. Always such a good little boy, aren’t you, Vecon? Trying and trying, but never as good as your brother. Never clever enough, never skilled enough, so you suck up to Macero and happily do his dirty work.”

Vecon flinches with anger and abruptly backhands her across the face.

It hurts. It snaps her face to the side, almost knocks her off balance, and Dulsissia can feel her cheekbone burn with what will become a bruise. But it also gives her the excuse and opportunity to spin back and ram her elbow with all of her might into Vecon’s face in a move that would have made her Mandalorian teachers proud.

She is rewarded with a very satisfying crunch, the sound of his nose breaking, and Vecon’s surprised bellow of pain, before the guards grab her and restrain her before she can do any more damage.

“Get her back to her cell!” Vecon howls.

Dulsissia doesn’t fight them.

-

She spends the next eternity staring up at the ceiling, lying on the hard bench and going over every possible escape attempt she can conjure up. From being on the ship itself, to the transport to Seswenna to her old home. She knows that house far better than Vecon. She can get away. The big problem will be getting off the planet.

It happens when one of the guards is entering the cell to hand her a plate with food.

The ship gives a violent shake, there is the sound of a distant explosion, followed by several others, and soon red lights are flashing and alarms are blaring out in the hallway.

“What is going on?” The guard asks a storm trooper running by the cell.

“We’re under attack!” Is the reply.

Dulsissia sits up. They’re being attacked? Could this be her chance to escape?

Before she gets the chance to do anything, the guard runs out and closes the door behind them, but Dulsissia doesn’t give up. The ship continues to shake, there are more explosions, and she starts to pace her cell. She has to be ready. This might be her moment. All she needs is the opportunity…

The door opens again and this time two guards run in to grab her. Vecon is standing out in the hallway and he’s not looking pleased. In fact, he’s sending almost nervous glances towards the back of the ship.

“What is going on?” Dulsissia asks, pulled out of her cell by the guards.

“We are leaving.” Vecon replies. Oh, he is definitely nervous. And don’t those explosions sound a little closer now?

“Why?” Dulsissia tugs to free herself but yet again in vain. “What is happening?”

As if to answer her question, there is the sound of blaster fire and she can see the flashes of light in the distance.

“He’s here, sir.” One of the guards says.

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious.” Vecon snaps. “Don’t just stand there! Stop him!”

The guards run forward to join the others fighting, while Vecon grabs Dulsissia’s arm and tugs her close. She notes that he’s also drawn his blaster.

Down in the hallway, the fighting is coming closer. The ceiling light at the very end gets taken out by an errant blaster shot so there are only slight flashes of what is going on when a weapon is being fired. The storm troopers are being pushed back by whomever is approaching.

Vecon slowly lifts the blaster and places the muzzle to Dulsissia’s head.

She hardly notices, can only stare as she sees a flash of blue armor amidst the chaos in front of her.

With deadly accuracy with his blaster shots, a lone figure is making his way towards them. A flick of a wrist sends a grenade into a room to take out some troopers popping in and out to fire at their opponent. A harsh kick sends a helmet flying from a trooper already on the floor trying to reach for their blaster nearby.

Davarax. It’s him. How? She doesn’t care. It’s him. He’s here and that is all that matters.

A group of guards emerge from a room behind him while the Mandalorian is focused on two death troopers in front of him, but before Dulsissia can open her mouth to scream a warning, Davarax activates his flame thrower and turns in a calculated circle to engulf them all. He doesn’t wait for the last trooper to fall before he’s already moving forward, lifting his blaster to shoot at his next target.

Davarax is completely indifferent to the shots fired at him, doesn’t react to the ones bouncing off his armor, merely keeps stalking towards them and takes them down, one by one. He comes with the smell of fire, blood and death.

A trooper jumps out of room next to him, blaster raised, but Davarax slams his elbow into the helmet so hard it shatters. The Mandalorian then pulls out a vibro-blades and throws it.

The blade flies through the air and takes down the one guard left standing.

The red lights are still flashing, alarms are blaring, there is thick smoke in the air, and Davarax is standing in front of Dulsissia and Vecon.

“Don’t, Mando.” Vecon warns. “I will shoot.”

“Not if he kills you first, Vecon.” Dulsissia says, eyes on Davarax’ visor. There is blood spattered all over his helmet and armor. If death had taken shape as a human, this is what it would look like. His quiet, looming figure would have terrified her if she didn’t know the heart behind it. He’s no threat to her. To everyone else on the ship, yes, but not to her.

Vecon draws a sharp, startled breath, and his finger is about to tighten on the trigger, but before he can squeeze it; Davarax’ grip engulfs all of Vecon’s hand and twists it, making him drop the weapon with a pained yelp.

Dulsissia breaks free and takes up position next to Davarax, staring at Vecon bent over in awkward twist due to the grip on his hand. “Tell Macero I’m never going back. He will never see his son again. And to leave me alone. If he comes after me or my family again, I won’t ask nicely to be left alone. I will kill him.”

Vecon sneers. “Tell him yourself.” And with his other hand, he rams a blade into Davarax’ side.

The Mandalorian jolts with a pained grunt and Vecon has one moment of triumph before Davarax ends his life with a well aimed blaster shot and lets him fall to the floor.

Dulsissia ducks under Davarax’ outstretched arm still aiming the blaster at Vecon to get to where the blade is embedded in him. “Oh. Oh, no. What-”

Davarax yanks the blade out and grabs her arm to make her look up at his t-visor. “We have to go.”

His voice. His perfect voice. It’s really him. She nods.

Davarax bends down, picks up Vecon’s blaster and gives it to her. “I need you to cover my back, Dulcy. Can you do that?”

She nods again.

They move and Dulsissia makes sure to fire at everyone who appears behind them while Davarax violently and without mercy ploughs through the storm troopers piling up in front of them to prevent them from escaping. Once they finally step inside the large hangar bay, Davarax turns, wraps one arm around Dulsissia’s waist and then they are flying up towards the ceiling.

A couple of blaster shots follow them, but mostly the chaos and destruction and sudden lack of leadership seems to have stunned the crew of Vecon’s ship, which makes it almost easy to climb into the vent and move through it. They emerge in a docking tube and Dulsissia exhales a weak laugh when she sees the side of the now beloved Razor Crest at the end of it.

“Go.” Davarax nudges her, then follows with blaster raised to cover their backs while they run towards his ship.

Dulsissia half expects Vecon’s ship to fire at them or at least pursue, but the big ship lies dead in the darkness and the Razor Crest can detach and make a run for it without any trouble. Yet it still takes over thirty standard minutes before Davarax stops pushing the engines as well as constantly checking the radar, only then does he finally lean back in the seat with a strained exhale.

Dulsissia unbuckles herself and runs over to hover next to him. She sees he’s bleeding in several places, his clothing is singed and ripped, the armor has countless new dents and scratches. Reaching out, her hands move from place to place and hover uselessly. Where to begin?

She makes a surprised squeak when Davarax suddenly pulls her close and hugs her tight.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yes, but you’re not.” Dulsissia says, trying to push herself away. “You’re bleeding. You’re hurt, Davarax. I have to-”

“In a moment.” Davarax says, not letting go, whispering; “Just… Please.”

And that is what breaks her.

Not threats or horrors, not death and destruction, but those softy whispered words.

Dulsissia wraps her arms around him, lets him ease her up on his lap and curls as close to him as possible while he holds her as close as possible.

[chocolate-parfait]

can I suggest a headcanon for arthur, theo and comte ( or dazai ) reacting to their selectively mute s/o speaking for the first time? ( maybe even singing? ) you can decide if you want a scenario for one of them and what mc sounds like, wether shes soft spoken or has a mature voice~ whatever you feel comfortable with >:0 👌 — have a nice day ! ♡

I made some research to write this but tell me if anything's inaccurate or wrong! I'll fix it right away

Selectively mute MC - ikevamp headcanons (Arthur, Theo & Comte)

Arthur

Arthur's a bit suspicious when he sees how uncomfortable you seem to be on your first night. No normal person would feel completely at ease, that's for sure, and yet the way your gaze flickers around the room, the way you fidget with your own hands, the look of pure anxiety on your pretty features, they're all blatant red flags for him, though he decides to let you be. It's your first night, after all, for all he knows you could just be terribly shy, right?

He started piecing the signs together after a couple days when your voice was yet to be heard. The only thing they knew was your name, which you wrote on a piece of paper after Vincent's many soft encouragements.

The English writer had tried flirting with you a couple times, but after being met with the same indicators of discomfort as night one, he decided to step back and watch from the sidelines, occasionally helping others translate whatever you were trying to tell them with your body language.

Selective mutism had been diagnosed around 1870 for the first time, and although it was still a relatively new medical condition, he still was a couple decades more experienced when it came to medicine. After realizing that was your case, he moved to inform everyone in the mansion so that they could adjust their behaviors and avoid causing you too much distress.

Eventually Arthur becomes the person you spend most time with in the whole house; you can feel he genuinely cares and, despite the voices you had heard about his incorrigible attitudes and questionable habits, you start appreciating all the efforts he puts into making sure you're always comfortable and understood (his efforts were very much succeeding, by the way).

On one particular night, you decided to bring some coffee to his room, a silent gesture of support in his regards, but once you entered the bedroom, he turned to look you in the eyes and you saw his beautiful blue orbs, usually alight with mischief, now dark and wavering, surrounded by puffy, red skin. He had been crying. Despite all his best efforts to hide it, everyone knew the writer had his own ghosts from the past haunting him, but seeing him so wretched and broken made your heart squeeze in sympathy and pity.

Seeing your worried expression Arthur immediately turned the other way, letting out a self deprecating laugh as he thought this was probably not helping with your case at all. "Ah- D-don't worry about me! I just got some dust in my eyes. Clumsy old me-!" You set down the tray on his desk and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"A-arthur, you can tell me. I'm here for you."

His heart almost flew out of his chest as his wide eyes stared at you in disbelief. He abruptly stood up and had to stop himself from hugging you and twirling you around, grabbing your shoulders instead. "MC, you just spoke right now, didn't you?!". He was so shocked he completely forgot about his troubles and spent minutes fawning over you. He didn't realize he was coming off as too strong until he noticed your voice getting quieter and quieter. He then apologized and took a moment to cool himself off.

From then on, your relationship goes through revolutionary changes as he finally gets to learn more about your past, tastes and personality. Each little detail makes him more and more interested in what had been a complete mystery to everyone for days. As the writer of Sherlock Holmes he certainly couldn't let this one chance fly out of the window now, could he?

If his brain malfunctioned when he heard your voice for the first time, it is pretty accurate to say that he almost passed away for the second time when he heard your laugh! It's the best and most effective antidepressant he's tried in a long time, and the more open you become, the more the look in your eyes starts to brighten up, a worthy rival to the breathtaking smile that graces your lips every now and then.

Your voice is sweet, calm and soft, and Arthur feels as if he's floating on a cloud whenever he hears it. It isn't loud, either, making everything you say seem like the most intimate secret one could whisper to a close friend. On the other hand, your laugh is like the clear and light tinkling of a bell. Each time you let out even the smallest of chuckles his cheeks flush with a rosy blush, earning him stares and teasing remarks from the closest fellow vampire in the room.

Slowly, he starts to see his reactions for what they are: sprouts of a new love. As time passes by, he realizes he wants to hear more and more of your voice. He wants to hear you whimper his name lost in overwhelming pleasure, he wants to hear all the sweet nothings and declarations of love you can offer him, comforting words, even gibberish and dark secrets. Everything that comes out of your mouth is like molten gold to him, and he wants it all to himself.

He starts bragging to others, though it does not take long before you're comfortable enough to grace them with the sound of what Arthur has come to love so much. On one side he's jealous because you've denied him the privilege of being the only one to hear your voice, but at the same time he's also extremely proud of you! You're finally happy and there's no more traces of anxiety and worry in your eyes whenever you're surrounded by the other vampires, and that's one of the most important milestones he's honored have witnessed by your side.

Theo

Let's just say that you and theo start off on the wrong foot. To say that you're frightened of him at first is an understatement, and you very much avoid him for as much as you can. He feels guilt strangling his throat whenever he sees your quivering form running away from him, and after noting that you behaved similarly with everyone and still hadn't uttered a word in days made him worry even more.

Arthur's the one who comes up with a diagnosis, and with that everyone changes their manners and speech to make you feel more at ease. Theo, just like his blue haired friend, is actually pretty good at reading body language so he has no particular struggles when it comes to your needs. Unfortunately, he's not so smooth in regulating his tone and words, which often come out a little to harsh. Vincent often reprimands him for it, and he can't help but feel even worse when he realizes he's probably ruining your whole stay.

He starts distancing himself, and you gradually start sticking by the local angel's side, never leaving him for even a second; his vibes are so pure and soothing that they help you out with your anxiety and symptoms. Needless to say, he's also very understanding and is not at all bothered to speak in your stead. This leads to Vincent being the first one to hear your voice, and he's without doubt elated, but he also wishes for you to be able to socialize with the others, too. Theo in particular.

After days and days of the artist's endless rants on how good his little brother actually is, your image of the gruff man has been replaced by that of a soft hearted puppy. Too bad that this soft puppy looks like a hungry hunt dog more than a small, soft cloud of love.

Ironically enough, what brings you and Theo to a new stage of your basically nonexistent relationship is King. In the dog's presence he lets his guards down and turns into a loving owner of a very good and friendly golden nugget, subsequently becoming more approachable. Besides, everyone knows how helpful animals are in fighting anxiety and social disorders! And on the advice of Arthur, he invites you to his daily walk with his dog, hoping your fear will melt away with time.

He's a stubborn man, and even when such delicate issues come his way, he has no intention of giving up. No matter how much time it'll take him, he believes he's going to convince you he's not that bad as you first thought. Why is he trying so hard though? Well, not only it's something that stems from Vincent's care for you, but it's also something for your own good. If you were to avoid him for a whole month, you'd get nothing out of it, and a constant lingering sense of panic would follow you pretty much anywhere; but living for a whole month in those conditions is a no-no for Theo. He has no intention of uselessly make you suffer like that, and as he reminds himself of that, his willpower strengthens his determination to search for a common ground between you two.

Albeit slowly, you start getting less tense around him, and the fright fades away bit by bit with each walk in the woods with the Dutch art dealer and the excited bundle of golden hair. It's a lengthy process that takes many days, but Theo finally knows his efforts aren't vain when he hears you coo at the golden retriever. "King... you're such a good boy.." You say with with the warmest smile he had ever seen painted on someone's face as you patted his canine friend's head lovingly. In that moment he wished he could frame the scene and hang it up in his room next to his brother's paintings.

He didn't know whether it was the emotion of hearing your voice for the first time or the implications that told him you weren't that scared of him anymore, but he became hyper aware that his wasn't a normal heartbeat. Unsteady and crazy like that of a lovestruck fool. Was this all it took him to fall head over heels for someone? Or was this a process that had started way before?

It still takes you some time to be fully able to speak complete sentences in his presence, but once you do, he's overcome with one of the greatest feelings of satisfaction he had ever felt in his two lives, and he can definitely agree that everything was worth the wait and the labour.

Just like Arthur, your laugh almost makes him fly through the roof, but what turns him into a formless puddle of mushy feelings and amazement is your singing voice. The first time he hears you intone a medley to him he turns to stone and just stays there, unmoving. He has an eye for finding hidden talents, but oh God was your singing unexpected. His feeling may be out of place here, but he's so, so glad to have your singing all to himself. He finds the act extremely intimate, and for how much he may believe he doesn't deserve it, he cannot deny the positive effects it has on him

Sometimes, when you're talking to him, you can see him turn his face away and smile to himself like an idiot. In those times, he's thinking about how far you two came, and how glad he is to have persisted as much as he did.

Comte

Comte emanates a slightly threatening and imposing aura but it can also be calm and placid, like his voice. First and foremost he's a gentleman, but he sometimes comes off as very intimidating to those who are not used being around such strong presences like his. Luckily, he's a very patient man, and you can feel no judgement nor malice coming from him. He's lived a long, long life, and he knows better than overstepping people's boundaries and making fun of their insecurities.

When with him, you can do things at your own pace! If you don't feel like talking then he's totally okay with it; take your time to find your own way and pace of doing things, he'll gladly help if you ever ask him (with gestures or, once you're closer, with words).

The panic you feel in his presence dissolves gradually; there are no particular events that cause a turning point in your relationship, it just happens. Despite living in such a big mansion, avoiding all life forms is pretty much impossible, so you happen to share some interactions every now and then. Sometimes it's an afternoon tea, others it's just him making small talk as you clean his room (he's either talking to himself or asks answers you can nod to if you feel more comfortable). He immediately makes it clear that he doesn't expect nor want to pressure you in delivering any answer, and if you ever happen to feel too overwhelmed he excuses himself and leaves the room.

One day as you were dusting the shelves in his office, he casually says:"The weather's really nice today." But your head doesn't move in assent, instead he receives a shocking reply despite the ordinariness of the topic. "It really is... T-there's not a cloud in the sky, either." A shocked expression momentarily appears on his features, soon replaced by a wide smile as he hums back in agreement.

He doesn't let it show but he's utterly in love with your voice. It's an addiction but he still wants to give you enough space and time to get comfortable with the idea of speaking around him, so he tries to keep himself in check all the time.

It's when he hears you singing that he can't help but feel greedy, and the rare sight of Comte's blushing cheeks greets you for the first time ever. It's his weak point, use it as you may deem ;)

(okay but jokes aside WHY would you ever want to use it against him, he'd build a pyramid with a butter knife while doing a backflip if you asked him to tbh,, the man is Whipped.)

Everything you do has a meaning and a significance, so he's always taking in even the smallest piece of information you may subconsciously slip his way. Seeing how you trust him enough to lower your guards about him makes him all the more appreciative of the bond you two share. For this reason, if you ever want to try and get over your anxiety, he'll be there to walk with you from the first to the last step of your journey.

His favorite thing is when he's holding you in his arms, nuzzled against his chest while he dozes off to your heavenly humming. It makes him feel like a prince living his happy ever after in a fairytale and he couldn't be more grateful.

[stories-to-tell-by-lantern-light]

Who Am I Really?

(Eyeless Jack X Reader)

Iron was all he could taste, as he hugged his arms close to his chest. The white snow that speckled the forest floor contrasted greatly with his newly acquired ash-grey skin. He could feel blood crusting under his fingernails, he could feel the sting of the cold snow underneath his bare feet as he walked. Whatever they did to him, he was no longer human that much was clear, his feet turned more animal-like and had ripped through his old shoes. If he was being honest with himself he knew that from the moment he awoke and could still see that he was no longer human.

Jack Nichols shivered as he caressed the hollow sockets where his eyes should’ve been. They were dripping with the black tar that was mercilessly poured in there by Jenny and her cult.

‘That absolute fucking bitch.’ He thought, and an animal-like snarl tore through his throat. He could feel the stretching and popping of his jaw as he ground his teeth together. Killing her and her stupid friends was therapeutic to him, remembering the taste of their blood as it filled his mouth when he tore out their throats made him feel euphoric. Pausing his steps only for a brief moment he let those memories of eating their flesh and organs consume him, it only served to make his mouth water.

What was wrong with him? Why did that memory, which happened only hours ago, make him so god damn hungry? What exactly had they done to him, as much as he tried not to dwell on that thought the hunger that ate away at him even after the slaughter was almost too much to handle. All Jack wanted when he woke up this morning was to go on a date with a cute girl, get a little drunk, and maybe get lucky (though realistically that was just wishful thinking). The true college experience one might say, even for a med student. Especially with a schedule as busy as his...that was as busy as his. He knew he should’ve just stuck to focusing on school and studying his brain out, god why did he have to listen to his friends as they urged him on the date.

‘What’s the worst that can happen?’

This. This was clearly the worst possible outcome.

What he really couldn’t believe, however, was that he allowed one of the cultists to get a hit on him, and a bad one at that. Turning his head to glance down at the tear in his thigh, it was a deep gash that desperately needed to get medical attention and fast. The only problem the former medical student faced was that whatever was pouring out of his leg wasn’t blood. It was a deep black ooze that stained the white snow that littered the forest floor. In fact, Jack wasn’t even sure if normal medical supplies would even heal his wound. Jack grit his teeth trudging onwards into the forest, a faint buzzing reverberated around in his skull like flies buzzing around a corpse that he couldn’t seem to shake.

He placed his hand against a tree the world spinning around him. Whatever the blood-like substance that was pouring out of his leg was, he was losing it fast. Jack heard the crunching of snow in front of him and a small gasp. It took most of his strength but he picked his head up and snarled. Jack bared his teeth and tried to make himself look as dangerous as possible, he felt like a wild animal that was cornered by the hunter. There was a girl in front of him, she had (h/l) (h/c) hair that was stuffed under a furry winter hat. She took a few steps back, her brown snow boots making giant footprints in her wake. He could hear the blood flowing through this girl’s veins, as her anxiety levels seemed to spike. The anxiety caused her heartbeat to quicken drastically, hearing the sound only served to increase Jack’s seemingly ceaseless hunger. Jack tried to take another step towards her, flexing the sharp nails on his hands but collapsed under his own weight, his fucking leg. He really couldn’t catch a break, could he?

“What are you?” The girl’s voice held a slight quiver to it and Jack could feel her sharp eyes burning holes into his body. He watched as she hesitantly took a step closer, her (f/c) parka standing out against the muted colors of the forest.

“I don’t know.” He responded with a raspy breath, she smelled divine but he had no strength to attack. Something in his bones told him that he was beyond human, something so much more, a god perhaps? What a silly thought that he couldn’t shake away. Through his quickly blurring vision, he swore he could make out a pair of fancy dress shoes a little bit behind the girl. He saw the girl drop to her knees and cover her ears, his vision went black and the sound of static accompanied the darkness.

---

Jack was expecting to be dead. He expected to be accompanied by beautiful white light, maybe an angel or something. However, it caught him very off guard when he suddenly awoke in a rather plush bed. He threw the plaid covers off himself unceremoniously and moved to swing his legs over the side of the bed. The baby god never got far because he let out a howl of pain as a sharp sensation traveled up his thigh. Shit right, his entire upper thigh was practically ripped open. He forgot all about that, glancing down at his wound he noticed it was wrapped tightly in medical bandages and he assumed it was stitched up underneath the dressings. Whoever fixed the wound seemed to have done at least a semi-decent job, at least he wasn’t dead. Sniffing the air with his newly acquired sense of smell he could make out the distinct smell of humans and...was that lavender?

Jack felt his stomach growl and he doubled over clutching it. They smelled delicious. He could practically hear their organs singing out to him, rip open the human, steal us, devour us.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the door opening, in the middle of the doorway stood the exact girl he’d seen in the forest. Immediately going on the defense he bared his teeth opening his jaw as wide as he could, he heard the popping sound of his jaw as it extended, he felt something swirl around in his mouth. He felt a chill run down his spine at the unwelcomed sensation.

Did he have more than one tongue?

Shaking the thought away Jack didn’t move to attack, he was never the type. He would always rather listen to rationality before getting his hands dirty, the only issue was he was starving and the girl would absolutely make a fine meal.

“Don’t try demon.” The girl scoffed eyeing Jack up and down, if he was still his old college self he would’ve gotten flustered at the gesture. A girl showing him attention? Unheard of back them. However, after Jenny, he was almost positive he’d never let that happen again. His sockets looked down at what the girl held in her hands, it was a plate, a plate that had kidneys on top of it. He was only mildly aware of the fact that he was drooling all over himself. “Oh gross.” She scrunched up her nose placing the organs on the bottom of the bed.

Without hesitation, Jack attacked the cold meat shoving it in his mouth with vigor. He knew blood was all over his face and hands but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Jack knew the girl’s calculated eyes were watching his every move, even so, he couldn’t help but let out a groan of pleasure as the food slid down his throat. Once the meal was finished and Jack was satisfied he finally felt he had enough strength to start asking questions.

“Who are you?” He rasped, whipping his mouth with the back of what was left of his sleeve.

“Really? You’re asking ME that question.”

“I’m not a fan of your attitude.”

“I’m not a fan of you bleeding out on my property.”

Jack growled low and guttural.

“Don’t make me hurt you.” The girl had the audacity to laugh in his face was she not aware of what he was capable of now?

“Nice try but I’m not scared of you. You’re not allowed to hurt me as long as you’re under my care.” She pointed to herself with her thumb, puffing out her chest a little however he could hear her pulse increase just the slightest bit.

Jack only scowled.

“What pray tell is exactly stopping me?” He raised an eyebrow watching carefully as the girl lifted up her sleeve to her sweater. Scared into her wrist was a symbol that Jack had never seen before in his life, but for some unknown reason, he felt dread wash over him. Carved into her wrist was an O with an X slashed through it. “What’s that supposed to prove exactly? That you’re into weird tattoos?”

The (h/c)-ette let out a loud sigh like this conversation was boring her. Oh he’s sorry it’s not his fault he was turned into a fucking organ-eating monster by a cult at his local college! If he still had his eyes they would be rolling so far back into his skull, yet he still waited for the girl to explain.

“My name is (y/n), I’m a medical proxy under The Operator. Currently one of the only ones he has left because we keep getting killed off by rogue killers.” The girl, (y/n), clicked her tongue in clear distaste at the mention of said killers. “Since I’m under The Operator it means if you kill me, he’ll kill you, that’s the deal Jacky boy.” That put him on high alert.

“How the fuck do you know my name?”

“You’re certainly full of questions for someone just waking up out of a coma. If you must know The Operator gave me a brief rundown of your file after we found you in the woods.” (Y/n) crossed her arms over her chest “It’s your lucky day because you just got hired to work for him.” She gave him a round of applause, but it sounded more mocking than serious and he only grew more confused.

“This doesn't make any sense to me. I hope you’re aware.”

“I’m sure it isn’t. It’ll all be explained in due time. For now, all you have to focus on is getting better so you can begin your training. Lucky for you, I’m your registered nurse and caregiver, so enjoy your stay at castle de la (Y/n). Trust me when I say you should value your time here while you still have it.” A thousand more questions ran through Jack’s mind and his little question and answer session with his self-proclaimed nurse didn’t really help.

“So you’re a med student then?” She made a noise of affirmation picking at the strings of her sweater.

“Was a med student Jack, that pretty much came to a screeching halt after I was scouted by the boss man. That, however,” He watched as (Y/n) put a hand to her lips signaling him to stop asking questions, “Is a story for another day. The first order of business now that you’ve eaten is a shower. Cause no offense but you smell like dried blood, and coming from me that’s saying something cause I smell blood all the time.”

Jack still didn’t trust this stranger fully and it got under his skin that she seemed to know everything about him and he knew next to nothing about her. Yet, a shower did seem nice at this moment, he glanced down at his hands and noticed his nails were caked with dry blood. He could only imagine what every other part of his body looked like, (y/n) clearly didn’t bother cleaning him up aside from dressing his wounds.

“A shower sounds good.” Jack nodded in confirmation and the girl gave a relieved smile.

“Oh thank God you agreed, it took me a week of convincing to get Jeff to go take his first shower.” Jack decided it was best not to ask who Jeff was deciding that that was a can of worms he shouldn’t open just yet. She reached out to touch him and he immediately recoiled back almost biting her handoff, the smile that appeared disappeared into a frown.

“Don’t touch me.” Memories of Jenny’s friends holding him down while he pleaded for his life flashed across his mind. The blade coming closer and closer to Jack’s crystal blue eyes before making contact and-

“Alright, cannibal boy snap out of it. Can’t have you succumbing to blood lust just yet. You don’t wanna injure yourself more.” (Y/n) snapped her fingers next to his ears and he couldn’t help but feel a little grateful that she snapped him out of his stupor. “I was going to help you to the bathroom because you really shouldn’t put pressure on your leg. Is that okay?”

Jack felt himself nodding reluctantly. She was right, he really shouldn’t put stress on his leg or it could cause more harm than good. Especially since he didn’t know the extent of the injury yet, for all he knew he was lucky they didn’t hit the femoral artery. Her arms went around his waist as the god and the human girl hobbled to the bathroom together. On the short walk there Jack was trying to get a feel of the house, in case he needed to make a grand escape in the future.

“I’ll put some fresh clothes outside the door for you, call for me when you’re done so I can help you back to the bedroom.” (Y/n) explained as Jack hobbled into the bathroom, he didn’t feel the need to respond to her as he shut the door in her face. He heard a faint click of a tongue from the other side of the door and listened to the girls retreating footsteps.

Jack leaned against the sink putting most of his weight on his hands. The sink creaked at the newfound pressure and Jack wasn’t sure it was because it was an old house or because he had newfound strength. He glanced up at the mirror, it was weird somewhat seeing when you had absolutely no eyes. It was the first time since the incident he got a good look at himself, he looked about as good as he felt.

Terrible.

His auburn hair curled around his now pointed ears and was caked in mud and dirt. He was almost grateful that (y/n) didn’t touch him aside from the wound while he was unconscious, Jack couldn’t imagine what he might’ve done if he felt anyone go near his face. Speaking of his face, he opened his mouth and saw his teeth were shaved into razor-sharp fangs. His stomach turned as he remembered the exact reason why they were like that, organs. They were like that so he could eat organs. The thought wasn’t nearly as nauseating as it should’ve been.

His skin was unnatural and sickly grey color, as he lifted up his shirt the color seemed to spread all the way down his body. He glanced down at his hands and saw his nails were long and black, almost like those girls who wore acrylics, except he was sure their nails couldn’t rip into people's chests with a single swipe. Continuing down his body he lifted up one of his padded feet, he was correct in his assumption from earlier. They were much more animal-like, he wondered if they made him faster, what purpose could they possibly serve other than that?

Gently letting his footfall back down on the floor he shuffled to the shower and turned it on, the water sprayed out in a burst and he patiently waited for it to heat up. Eventually, he was able to step inside, not before knocking his head not only against the curtain rod but also on the showerhead.

“Fuck!” He snarled glaring down at the showerhead. Jack did a little double-take, okay he was also super tall, at least he got one blessing out of whatever the fuck was happening. Jack had to kneel on the ground in order to let the water roll down his body, with a deep breath he enjoyed the warm water pelting his skin. He fumbled around with the shampoo trying to figure out how to open it without popping a hole in the container. As the lid popped open he was hit with the calming scent of lavender.

~~~

“We’ll send someone to come back and check on him in about a month give or take, see how he’s adjusting and healing.” A figure spoke from the kitchen shaking a cigarette into an ashtray, as (y/n) stood across from him. The man ran a hand through his messy brown hair “Then we’ll reassess him, give him a test and see if he’s fit to come to the mansion.” Meanwhile, the girl heaved a sigh of her own and leaned against the cool tiles of her kitchen wall.

“So it’s gonna be my responsibility to explain everything that’s happening to him? Isn’t that supposed to be your job Tim?” (y/n) raised an eyebrow “You realize he’s, like, almost seven feet tall, has no eyes and eats organs right? I’m not even sure WHAT he is.” She muttered, “The rundown I got really only gave me his background and his clear trauma.”

Tim clicked his tongue like the girl in front of him was wasting his time, it made her ball up her fists subconsciously.

God, the main proxies really got on her fucking nerves sometimes.

“You won’t have to worry about that, The Operator will handle all of that throughout the coming weeks. No need to worry. You also don’t need to worry about harvesting organs for him, and hopefully, once he’s healed he’ll work on doing that himself. But for now, someone on a kill close by will be dropping off organs.” Tim’s nose scrunched up a little and the (h/c)-nette’s did the same, she normally prided herself on her strong stomach, but this was a lot even for her. “The only thing you have to do is monitor his eating, see how much he will need on a weekly basis, and obviously keep him alive.”

“Obviously.” They both seemed to have a mutual understanding about that at least, she fucks up and he dies they’re both in deep shit with The Operator. Tim reached to the side where his porcelain mask sat against the countertop.

“Don’t fuck it up.” He pointed to her before slipping out the door leaving the women alone with an organ-eating monster. (Y/n) mimicked ‘don’t fuck it up' in a nasal voice before kicking off the wall and heading back in the direction of her guest's room, she pulled out a pair of crutches from the closet and rested them by the bedside. She gently scratched at the faintly buzzing symbol on her wrist, this is going to be a long month.

[unmaskedagain]

Ladybug in Smallville

           You can’t fix a broken heart, her grandmother told when Marinette was young and had ask why the older woman why she never remarried.

“You can forgive here,” Gina Dupain had pointed to her head. “And you can tell yourself every day that you forgive him, that all is well. And maybe you do. Maybe not right away, like you tell people but eventually… you do. You move on. You find some kind of peace. But that doesn’t mean your heart’s forgotten. Especially during the worst of it, when it’ll remind you every day just how much you’re still hurting.”

           The silver haired woman had look so dejected, so cynical compared to her usual chipper, charming self that it left the little girl stunned.

“Until one day, it doesn’t,” Gina continued. “And yet, your heart’s not the same. You’re not the same. No matter what you tell yourself. Sometimes, you’d swear it’s just a giant scar on your heart. Because at least that means it’s healed; beaten up, bruised, and permanently disfigured but healed.  Other days when you think too hard about it, and you are walking through memory lane; you can just barely admit the truth. That you can still feel every jagged edge, sharp angle still there from a shattered heart. And once on a very blue moon, you admit to yourself the truth; you can’t fix a broken heart. It’ll always be broken. Love has consequences.”

           She looked Marinette deep in the eyes, “The trick is learning to live with it. Learning that a broken heart doesn’t mean it doesn’t work.”

“Broken… but still good,” Marinette quoted Lilo and Stitch.

           Her grandmother beamed, “One of the hardest things is the world, sweetie, is to not let that broken heart stop you. You can cry. You can be angry. You can vengeance on the entire world. As long as you never let it stop you from living.”

“And loving?” Marinette asked. “You learned to love again.”

           There was a pause. A thoughtful look. And then a sigh, as Gina finally answered, “No, I never fell in love again. I could never trust the same as I did before. Never managed to figure out how to love with all of my heart like I used to when I was young. And it always felt wrong not you; but that’s just me. I learned to love myself, though. And that is the greatest thing you can ever learn. Love yourself.”

           Marinette had been nine-years-old at the time and hadn’t quite understood what her grandmother had been talking about. But she never forgot, the cold look on her grandmother’s face and the sorrow in her eyes.

           It was only years later, when the biggest liar to ever walk the planet proved that not all villains are easily defeated, when her friends had all turned their backs on her, when the boy who she swore she was going to marry someday was more of a cowardly frog than a prince, when even her parents bought the fabrication of Marinette being a bully, a thief, a jealous liar that Marinette finally understood. Because not only had her heart been broken, but it had been shattered.

           Marinette couldn’t even go to Fu as the man had used the last of his power in a fight against Hawkmoth because Chat Noir never showed up and Fu refused to give out Miraculous to people Marinette didn’t trust so the turtle had to fight. They had won but Marinette swore she’d never forgive Chat Noir for not showing up and costing a good man his life, and Marinette her mentor.

           Master Fu’s last act had to strip Chat Noir of his ring and name Marinette the new guardian. Before he faded, he warned Marinette that some people weren’t worth fighting for. Sometimes, a hero’s first priority has to be to save themselves.

           However, even then, Marinette had refused to give up. She kept trying to get her friends to listen, even when they made it clear they weren’t her friends anymore. Most didn’t reply to the texts anymore. And the ones that did, Alya mostly, ridiculed her; scorned Marinette’s very existence.

She tried to get Adrien to stand up and help her like he’d promised, only for him to ignore her calls, texts, and have Nathalie tell her that he didn’t want to be involved.

Despite the furious silent treatment from her mother and her father’s disappointed looks, Marinette still tried to convince them of her innocence. She had begged for them to listen to her, to trust that they raised her right, to believe her.  It was only after two weeks into her expulsion, when Marinette found luggage waiting by the door that Marinette understood. Nothing would change their minds.

They explained quickly that Marinette was going to be sent to live with her father’s godmother, one of his mother’s best friends. A good woman who promised to set Marinette straight. Or at least keep her out of trouble.

Marinette was on a plane an two hours later to a little old Kansas and then to a small town rightly called Smallville.

A kindly older blond man name Jonathan Kent had met her at the airport. Marinette had given him a polite, quiet, greeting and when mute for the rest of the ride to their farm. She hadn’t known what to expect. Feared the worst. Feared that they thought she was the bully her.

As soon as they arrived at the farm, a rather pretty greying redheaded woman walked out of her house with a mixing bowl in one hand and a sturdy wooden spoon in the other. Marinette steeled herself as she got out of the car. She raised her head up, “Bonjour, Madam.”

“Well, aren’t you the sweetest little thing,” The woman had greeted. “And I swear, you look just like your grandmother. It’s that spark in your eyes. Every time I saw it, I knew there was going to be trouble. Particularly, for the fools that messed with her. That’s how my cheating ex boyfriend’s dorm accidently caught on fire.”

           Marinette blinked once. Then twice. What?

“Accidently, Martha?” Jonathan chuckled as he got Marinette’s bags out of the car.

           Martha shot him a smile, “They could never prove otherwise.” She looked Marinette over, “Gina said your parents have their heads in a place sun just can’t seem to reach. Wanted to me to look after you. Get you away from all that drama. Get you with family. And the lord knows, that woman doesn’t know how to sit her butt anywhere long enough to leave an imprint. So come on inside, let’s get you unpacked and some food inside you.”

           Aunt Martha, as Marinette had been instructed to call her, had led her to an empty room that was just a bit bigger than the one she used to have and had a desk by a large window, a twin bed covered in a plaid blanket, and a few other standard amenities. Plus an old sewing machine on the desk. Marinette’s eyes lit up at the sight of it.

“Your grandma told me you like to design,” Aunt Martha smiled kindly. “I don’t use old Bertha myself anymore but I’d thought you’d like her. You can decorate your room anyway you’d like. Let me know if you need any help.”

           Marinette nodded and couldn’t stop herself from hugging the woman. She hadn’t been able to take much with her (Clothes, phone, laptop, a stuffed animal or two, the guardian box) but she made sure to bring all her sketch books and had just barely enough time and money to drop off a few boxes of her designing equipment and supplies at the local mail service carrier to be shipped to the farm in the upcoming weeks. The fear had been weighing on her of what ifs. What if it all got lost in the mail? What if Marinette couldn’t design anymore?

           Martha simply hugged her back, no probing questions. When Marinette let go, Martha said, “Now Kara and Conner’s rooms are either side of you. Conner’s mostly here on the weekends. Kara visits enough to still have room. They can be a… little nosy. But ignore it. My son, Clark, is visiting next week. They just can’t wait to meet you. I wouldn’t be surprised be any of them suddenly drops in.” She laughed, and it sounded a little like jingle bells.

           Then suddenly, Martha straightened up and gave Marinette a soft look, “You let me know if you need to talk or… Anything really.”

           Marinette felt her throat close up a bit and nodded stiffly.

“Dinner will be on the table soon.”

“May I help, Madam?” Marinette asked.

           Martha looked her over, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You can go ahead and get settled in.”

           Marinette blinked again. No one ever turned down her offer to help before. “I want to.” And so she did.

           Cooking with Aunting Martha was different that with her parents. While, she knew her parents loved to bake. It always felt like a job with them. One more responsibility Marinette had. Cooking with Aunt Martha was relaxing. They shared stories with each other and Marinette got more insight of her grandmother’s past than she ever had before. And even when it got silent, Marinette didn’t feel the need to fill it for once. And neither did Martha. It was nice.

           Eating dinner had been the same. Enjoyable and lovely with promises of teaching Marinette all about the farm. Uncle John laughing at wide-eyed Marinette reaction to idea of her milking a cow. It was a relief not to deal with her mother’s stony silence and her father’s blatant disapproval.

           Marinette knew from just one night that the Kents were good people and if she let herself, she could enjoy her time there. That didn’t stop Marinette from crying herself to sleep for a few nights.

           During her first week, Marinette didn’t hear a word from her parents. Or the second. Marinette knew they were more than likely waiting for her to make the first move like she always did.

           But unfortunately for them, Marinette was done. She was done with fake friends and disappointing crushes. She was done with being made out to be the bad guy. She was done always being the one to fix everything. Save everyone. Because she knew, without a doubt, that this time. Her first priority had to be save herself. Marinette had to fix herself. (Of course, Marinette still had to use the horse miraculous to go save Paris nearly every day but innocents needed her help.)

           So Marinette let herself be immersed in the smallville way of life. She helped out of the farm. She competed with Aunt Martha over who had the best pie recipe. Blinked in confusion when Martha wrapped a plate of Marinette’s special double chocolate salt caramel cookies to be delivered and muttered something about “Alfred finally getting his” and the Kent family reigning victorious. Marinette had just been happy to be considered family.

           Speaking of family, Marinette had become rather fond of her new “Cousins”. Jon was the youngest and reminded Marinette of a very hyperactive puppy. He constantly dragged Marinette away to play games and pretend. Connor was a bit sullen but had turned out to be a giant teddy bear once he opened up. He loved to talk about his friends; particularly someone named Tim. The beautiful blond Kara loved girl talk and arm wrestling Connor. She raved about Marinette’s designs and over her pictures with Jagged Stone. Clark, the oldest of her cousin, was a sweetheart; a geeky reporter who was married to a man named Bruce, worked mainly out of Metropolis, and had somewhere between five to seven kids. There was a lot of names and nicknames that left Marinette’s head spinning.

           None of them had taken kindly to Marinette’s story of how she ended up on the Kent farm. Wondering who could bully such a sweet angel?

           Though Marinette decided he wasn’t ever going to be her favorite after the blueberry scone incident.

           Over the next few months, Marinette learned what her grandmother had meant about letting herself be angry and getting some vengeance. Because was allowed to be angry. And she was allowed to get payback.

           After a rather nasty Akuma, Ladybug had taken the time to do an interview with Nadja. She had confirmed that Chat Noir was never returning, that the Ladyblog and its journalist had lost her trust forever after Ladybug had learned about the lies the blog was posting.

“What lies,” Nadja had asked, glad to finally stick it to the girl, Alya, who had been so mean to her honorary niece.

“Well for example, who the hell is Lila Rossi?” Ladybug asked when Nadja pulled up the website on the blue screen behind them. They scrolled through the website pointing out lies and inaccuracies. “That girl is not my best friend. I saved her from her own akuma save five times now. That’s it. I don’t know the girl. I don’t like the girl. What was written would only serve to put Lila in danger. And what’s this about Lila saving Jagged Stone’s cat? From a plane? Which airline was this? Who could be so careless?”

           Nadja nodded and looked quite stunned herself at what was on the blog. “I highly doubt Clara Nightingale stole Lila’s dance moves. Or strictly guarded Prince Ali invites random girls, even Ambassador’s daughter, to discuss his country go green intuitive. Or that she came up with the entire plan herself. This is just ridiculous! And what this about you curing Tinnitus?”

           Ladybug quickly shook her head, “That’s not possible. And it gives people false hope.”

“So Lila’s lying,” Nadja had to fight to keep the smugness out of her voice. She had told Sabine she was wrong. Had been absolutely furious that Marinette had been sent away. Some journalist should really learn Check Her Sources.” She said the last part with a smirk. “And what’s this about Gordon Ramsey?”

           It went on from there, with brief intervals so Marinette could recharge. Ladybug had blasted her former school, its’ principle, and her old teacher Bustier to shreds. For allowing bullying of students, victim blaming, and sheer negligence. Reciting how many times Ladybug had to deal with akuma from that school, particularly from Bustier’s class.

“I heard one poor girl even got expelled,” Ladybug shook her head. “From what I’ve heard, there was no investigation, just word of mouth, easily planted evidence, and then expulsion. I’m surprised I didn’t have to deal with her Akuma.” Ladybug’s sad tone was clear to hear. “I looked into the incident a bit. A rather brilliant Robot name Markov had been recording the room at the time.” Marinette nodded to the screen. “I had them blur the students faces for security reasons. The girl with the short hair is the victim in question.”

           The video played. And it was clear that a long haired girl had stolen the answer and planted them.

“I’m just sorry I couldn’t fix the issue,” Ladybug sighed. “By the time, I heard of it girl was been sent away by her parents. Not even they believed her.”

“I know the girl you’re speaking about,” Nadja frowned. “She’s stronger than she looks. Still, she deserved better. I swear to you that I’ll be leading the charge in investigating the wrongful expulsion.”

           Ladybug smiled.

           It took less than an hour after the interview to air for Marinette’s phone to start blowing up. Her ex-friends, her old classmates texted up a storm of apologies.

           The call from her parents had come in no longer after. Her father had full of apologies and swore to make it up to her. Her mother had been in tears.

           They were met with silence from Marinette. A forgive didn’t come. Marinette made it clear she still loved them but she was staying with the Kents. She would not be returning to Paris. It was her father’s turn to cry.

           Marinette would forgive them in time. But that wasn’t her priority was herself at the moment.

           While the Kents, Marinette was free to just be Marinette. Not anyone’s “Everyday Ladybug”. And was finding that she liked who she was.

           She liked designing clothes for Kara and dresses for Aunt Martha. Doing everything possible to get Clark out of plain. (She would be victorious!) She liked hanging out around town with Connor and being someone’s little sister, as he called her. Though she wouldn’t mind if he lost the overprotective streak. She wasn’t some damsel in destress. There was no more panic attacks. No more dealing with pushing best friends. No more waste time on crush on a blond loser.

           The only near heart attack she had was the blueberry scone incident. Marinette had gotten an akuma alert. She had yelled to Aunt Martha that she was going on a walk, hid behind the farm, transformed and portal’d away.

           Unfortunately, Uncle Clark had heard that Marinette had made her famous scones and had been FLYING overhead to the house at the time and had saw her.

           Uncle Clark had been waiting for her when she got back, with crossed arms and a stern look on his face. Before Marinette could open up her mouth to give a multitude of excuses, Clark held up one hand to silence her. Then he spun around faster than she’d ever seen anyone do before. And then Superman was standing in front of her.

           Marinette’s heart had stopped, she’d swear.

           After that they both de-transformed. Uncle Clark had led her inside where the entire Kent family was waiting.

           Turns out Uncle Clark was a tattletale. And he was never going to be her favorite.

“Snitch,” She told him simply before anyone could say anything.

           Clark blushed a little but shrugged.

           After that everyone introduced themselves. Or rather their superhero identities. Each taking turns to tell their story. Marinette had shed a few tears about the loss of Krypton. Marinette had introduce the Kwamis’ to the Kents. Jon had let out a squeal of joy at the sight flying creatures.

           Aunt Martha had only laughed when Plagg flew up to her face and said, “Cheese.”

           Marinette told her story from when she first got Tikki to then. There was no happy faces in the room.”

“You’re a superhero?” Kara was the first to burst out. “Ladybug the Parisian hero.”

“You work an entire city?” Connor asked. “I’m now even allowed to do that yet.” He shot quick glare at Clark. “Even the Teen Titans has league supervision.”

Clark raised an eyebrow, “The Justice League doesn’t usually tread on other heroes’ territory. Ladybug had always managed well.” He then gave her a look. “However, we were unaware that Ladybug was a teenager. I think its time we took a closer look at Paris.

[jtrokujo]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊

paring: Tobio Kageyama x fem!Reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings: for people who are dealing with depression or who are currently lonely etc please talk to someone. I don't know myself if that needs a warning, but I still wanted to write it here.

gerne: depression

summary: from a happy relationship to pure loneliness. even though the relationship was so beautiful it ended anyway, would they ever talk to each other again?

—

The days are just around the corner.

The days we are together, but unfortunately also the last time, because after this day everyone goes their own way.

You grow up, some start your own family, buy a big house, a pet, but the question is, do I want that?

This is the life that probably every average adult and I don't want such a life, I want to have someone by my side with whom I can be happy, I don't want more.

This someone shouldn't be anyone other than Tobio Kageyama, but we argued and definitely 2 months before our prom and whether it was enough, it was not a 'normal' argument where you get along after 10 or 5 minutes.

No, we had and separated, the relationship was over.

I don't remember how it really came about, because this argument was pure escalation.

We screamed and so loudly that I didn't know myself whether this could be normal for a person.

But I can remember one part of our argument all too well when Kageyama threw our photo on the wall so that the panes of glass were spread across the floor.

It was the picture with the most emotions, these moments were so beautiful that we did everything that nothing would ever come that could destroy something like that, we were either naive or stupid.

This picture was on our anniversary, our 2 year old, the day that made us naive that we could be together forever.

We were together for a lovely 2 years, I was at his games, we bought mangas, drank our coffee together and ate our favorite cake over our favorite coffee, where we also had our second date.

I remember too well how Kageyama tried to ask me at the time if I would go to the school ball with him, after I answered 'yes' he hugged me by putting all his weight on my body, a little heavy.

But I should seriously stop thinking about the old days after knowing his face - and he is mine.

There are also enough boys or even easier, I just don't go there, but I still have to think about the expensive dress my parents had saved for me.

Knowing not to dress just because of a guy shows how weak I am, I just let my dreams, which I've had for years, burst?

Even when I was little I dreamed of dancing with my lover in front of all classmates, how his amorous eyes met mine and then he just wanted to be with me, which is why he took my hand and we together from school, or wherever we are, and then he just looks at me and says how much he loves me, until it rains in a moment and we still dance together until the night ends.

However, we stopped and his steps approached me and his eyes met my lips, that's the moment, in the middle of the rain he would kiss me.

That's the stereotype that almost every girl had, but only almost.

By that I mean your lover kisses you in the middle of the rain.

It's only noon.

I should make something of my day instead of just thinking about the weirdest things, or about him.

With no motivation whatsoever, she took her cell phone and wrote to a good friend.

TIME SKIP

"Really, I'm proud of you for going out. Believe me or not, but I was seriously worried that you would spend your life thinking until prom."

Said the young volleyball player from her school and hugged her as he finished his sentence.

"I'm fine and you don't have to worry about me, Sugawara."

She muttered while her head stayed on his left chest and she could feel his heartbeat.

Walking together in the city they talk about a different topic every 5 minutes and none of them seem to bother, sometimes they talk about silly series, sometimes they gossip about their classmates, sometimes they give each other little advice until he said this " Tell me, do you already have a mask? "

She looked at him in amazement and asked "Which mask?"

"We have the topic of the masked ball, you were in favor of it when we talked to the others about it."

Not all of that.

Annoyed, she sighed and saw a mother taking care of her daughter, who has a small wound.

"(Y / N)?" he asked her and grabbed her shoulders and said right away, "How about we take a little break. I heard that the new animated film isn't that bad after all, come on."

Nobody who could see her from the outside could say she was crying, but she did, unfortunately couldn't.

Your body doesn't cry, your mind does.

To know someone like Sugawara is like a gift from heaven, a pure guardian angel.

When we arrived at the cinema, (Y / N) paid Ticktes and Sugawara for the meal.

Strangers would think it was a date, even if it was a friendship date, because just being friends with the opposite sex doesn't mean that they can be a couple or anything else.

(Y / N) should already choose a place and not long she found one, if that wasn't enough, but the hall is empty, a dream come true, sitting she took her cell phone and scrolled through her gallery, two words , a mistake.

Every second photo feels like it is from Kageyama.

Small tears welled up in her eyes, but she knew he wasn't worth it.

"(Y / N)?" she hears Sugawara's voice in amazement.

She turned and got his attention.

Sitting comfortably he started to eat and asked her if her cell phone was on mute, nodding she answered him and asked him if she could rest her head.

"Uh, of course, why not?" and made himself comfortable.

And now the 15 minute long commercials started.

TIME SKIP

Together with a friend in the shop, the two teenagers look for a mask to steal away the ball.

The mood for it is in the basement.

For once, she goes with someone who is also a gentleman and whether it is not enough, it cannot be overlooked that he has feelings for the classmate.

But what about (Y / N)?

She wants to have time for herself, because you don't necessarily need a partner to be happy, there is also no need.

In addition, she unfortunately still loves him, but the thought of him immediately occurred to her, where is he?

They go to the same class and when school is over she has to go to the sports hall because there is a shorter way and she still doesn't see him, then the thought occurred to her, 'He's not worth it'.

And where are you now?

It is hard to believe that all of the stores are at a tailor's.

But for that the old man seems to be able to do it pretty well, the prices could do away with one or the other, but you only live that way once.

While the friend was still choosing what her mask should look like, (Y / N) already got an idea and told the old man that she had an idea.

Because of her little mental breakdowns, it's nice to see that she has other things on her mind, but while she's talking to the old man about the mask and he's already preparing a sketch, the black-haired one is on the other side of town, alone though not.

"You don't even try to get in touch with her. What you said to her shouldn't say anything to anyone, so go to her tomorrow at school and apologize, then you can both live in peace."

Immediately after the little volleyball player finished his sentence, the black haired volleyball player threw him in the face, silencing him.

"H-hey! What was that supposed to mean?"

"You should stop talking!"

Kageyama yelled at his friend.

"You made me come with you!" he pisses at him.

Trapped in his own mind, Kageyama threw the ball to Hinata, his mistake being that he 1. hit it too hard and 2. the ball was a little too high, which is an advantage for Hinata.

Fixing on the ball, he jumped into the heights of the ball and hit it.

Immediately the ball landed roughly on Kageyama's face, holding his nose painfully, which was bleeding from himself.

Hinata, who is somewhat panicked, apologized several times and handed him a small handkerchief.

That still has him, probably what the pain his ex-girlfriend had to endure immediately after he ended the relationship with her, but he doubts that right away, pain like the one he has is not at all comparable to that of (Y / N) and many other people.

Trapped in his own mind, Kageyama threw the ball to Hinata, his mistake being that he 1. hit it too hard and 2. the ball was a little too high, which is an advantage for Hinata.

Fixing on the ball, he jumped into the heights of the ball and hit it.

Immediately the ball landed roughly on Kageyama's face, holding his nose painfully, which was bleeding from himself.

Hinata, who is somewhat panicked, apologized several times and handed him a small handkerchief.

That still has him, probably what the pain his ex-girlfriend had to endure immediately after he ended the relationship with her, but he doubts that right away, pain like the one he has is not at all comparable to that of (Y / N) and many other people.

He looked at his hand, which was covered with blood, he immediately took his bottle with his free hand and poured it over his hand.

Then he looked at Hinata and sighed, "Let's go shopping tomorrow."

Hinata himself noticed how his friend was changing, but he does not want to interfere in matters that do not concern him, but unfortunately he knew too well that it cannot go on like this and since Kageyama and something has happened Hinata reached for his cell phone and wrote (Y / N).

It is late in the evening when (Y / N) came home safe and sound, she took a warm shower, but immediately afterwards she went straight to her room without having eaten anything.

She carefully took her finished mask out of her bag, then took out her headphones, snacks, her wallet and her cell phone, when she wanted to see if she got a message from her friend, she saw that she had one about 3 hours ago Message received from Hinata.

Hey (Y / N), do you have time tomorrow?

Want to annoy you. :)

She couldn't help but grin and wrote to him to get a volleyball.

It's nice to have someone like Hinata because no matter what comes between you, he's always there for you.

Hinata wrote her that she should have nice dreams and was offline immediately afterwards.

(Y / N) decided to sleep right after, because even if she wasn't in the mood to meet anyone before that, apart from her friend from lunchtime, saying no to Hinata is a big taboo.

The next morning (Y / N) got ready and told her parents that Hinata was coming.

Snacks on the desk, the cuddly pillows spread out on the bed and the old Nintendo lying in bed.

Riding a bike with a rucksack, little Orange made his way to his girlfriend.

The weather was too good enough for such a day, because the sun was covered by wool and the clouds are gray, not white like yesterday.

But that didn't stop Hinata from being happy.

After about half an hour, Hinata finally arrived late, he put his bike right next to the door of the (H / C) hairy girl and rang the bell.

Without waiting long the door opened, contrary to what he expected, he saw his girlfriend with an honest smile.

After a short hug, he entered the little house, but of course he took off his shoes for the first time.

While the two friends were having fun, the black-haired one sits alone in his room and watches his favorite films.

Today the day has arrived.

This morning (Y / N) had showered and at the moment she was doing her hair with the help of her mother.

At the same time, Kageyama is pondering in the shower while the water flows through his body.

When the hairstyle fits perfectly on the head (Y / N) just pulled a thin dressing gown under her underwear and watched the new episodes of her series at the same time.

She looks at her cell phone every now and then and notices how slowly the time goes by.

She still has a good 5 hours ahead of her.

TIME SKIP

While her mother helps her to lock the dress, (Y / N) stared at the floor thoughtfully.

"You look like a little princess." said her mother to her and her ear and she looked at the mirror which is in front of them and touched her daughter's shoulders.

A little insecure, she cocked her head and looked in the mirror and she looks pretty pretty.

The hairstyle fits perfectly in the head, the dress exudes an extraordinary aura and now the only thing missing is the mask.

"Where's my mask." she asked her mother, she will get it right away which one was on her bed.

"Thanks." she thanked her and hugged her mother, but not only because of this mask, no.

When she found out that her daughter's relationship was failing, she was always there for her daughter and even managed to cheer her up.

"You have to be there in 20 minutes, come I'll drive you there." said the mother and went ahead.

(Y / N) quickly took her little bag and put her cell phone, power bank and mask there before she left her room.

In the car she asked her mother if she could also pick up Hinata, with a 'yes' she agreed and drove in the direction of the orange-haired one.

He was about to set off on a bicycle when his mother honked the horn and drew attention to him (Y / N), got out of the car and said loudly that he should get in.

Hinata quickly told his mother that he was being driven and ran straight to his girlfriend. "You look great, Hinata." she said to him with which he said, "You always do that." answered.

Giggling, the friends sat down in the car and talked about 10 different topics in this short drive.

"We are there." said the mother.

As they got out, they thanked them and made their way into the building.

"Nervous?" asked Hinata (Y / N), she just shook her head and said that they should go inside.

They parted ways in the building as they are now keeping their friends for company.

Hinata went to his volleyball and greeted each one of them.

(Y / N) went to her small circle of friends and hugged each of them with a warm hug. She noticed that she had forgotten to put on her mask, what she is doing now.

Kageyama, who also talks to Hinata, looks out for his ex-girlfriend, because the only thing he still wants to do is to apologize, he was cowardly yes.

That's why he's so eager to apologize today and besides, he still loves her but he knows himself that it might be better not to get together with her again.

The crowds of students drink some punch, some dance like crazy or talk.

After the time the music got a bit too loud for (Y / N), so she leaves the building and takes a little break.

Without knowing someone else came out the door and it was none other than Kageyama.

"(Y / N)." she heard him say her name, unfortunately she knew that voice too well.

Turning around nervously, she saw him taking the mask off his face, she did the same and asked him what he was doing here.

"I wanted to apologize to you, apologize for how I treated you.

We both know you deserve someone better. I'm terribly sorry (Y / N). "

Kageyama apologized and bowed to (Y / N), of course she was a bit overwhelmed but immediately said "You don't have to apologize for what you are not guilty of, we both made a mistake, so I just think we don't need an apology. "

He hugged her warmly and mumbled softly "Do you think we could become something?"

"Sure, but we shouldn't think about tomorrow if you get what I'm talking about."

Nodding, he continued the hug until she said, "Let's go in, I'm getting cold, aren't you?"

"No, but I think you're right."

TIME SKIP

It has been a total of 2 years after graduation.

The black-haired guy was just getting the last boxes out of the car, while (Y / N) put the boxes in the respective room.

Kageyama quietly crept behind (Y / N) and covered her eyes "Kageyama since I've been your fiancée you can't seem to do anything other than cover my eyes, right?"

She giggled and took his hands from her eyes.

He just giggled and shrugged his shoulders and asked "Shall we order food today?"

"Only when you talk."

"Yeah ok, lazy." he mumbled, but he wasn't quiet enough because she threw one of the little things at him.

"I heard it."

[jjpmoans]

pleasurable temptation | cyj [m]

word counts : 2.9k+

warnings : cosplaying kink, a hint of exhibitionism, pure smut (it’s bad lmao)

summary :  What did he do to be under this kind of situation? What did he ever trigger you with? Why is he helplessly moaning while you take him in your mouth without sparing him any mercy? While he is playing with his friends even? What did Youngjae even do to deserve such a torturous pleasure? 

“Wait, baby, I can’t. Please don’t do this to me.”

a/n : sooo for october, we decided to join together for a writing collab between the members or @got7creators​! It is called All Sins Week since we are posting a week straight at the end of October. Do check other writer’s kinktober fic as well! Also I am fourth in the order and please forgive me for this absolutely no filth fic. I have no idea what I wrote and I am open for critics bcs I know it’s bad wkkwkwkkwkw and sorrryy if you feel like it’s bland. But i hope you enjoy reading and please give a lot of love to other writers of this collaboration!

[ All Sins Week Masterlist ]

“If you’re Tatsumi,” you ask, breaking Youngjae’s attention from the anime he’s watching. You’re sitting next to him, as usual as he binges watching his anime. “Who would you choose? Akame or Esdeath?”

Youngjae’s eyebrow raises, looking at you questioningly. It’s not new, you’re always asking random questions about the anime he’s watching out of nowhere but this time it’s different. You’re asking him to choose between the protagonist and the antagonist if he’s Tatsumi, the main character. “Choose as in what? As in my comrade?”

“As in your lover?” you scoop your ice cream into your mouth, waiting patiently for his answer as he’s having a breakdown over whom to choose. Youngjae always has a hard time choosing between the protagonist and the side characters, saying that of course people always like the main protagonist but the side characters are also precious.

Which is why now you only want him to choose between the two sexy female characters but you can see smoke coming out of his head.

“Do I really need to choose?” he looks at you with a painfully desperate face, wanting a way out of the question. “I like both though!”

“Nope.” you tut, placing down your bowl on the side table. “You need to choose one. Like if Akame and Esdeath offer to have a one night stand with you, who will you choose?”

You can see Youngjae shifts uncomfortably, avoiding your gaze by keeping his eyes on the tv screen. It’s not long before you spot the growing tent under his pants that makes him shift a couple more times and whines, “Baby, you’re making it sound weird.”

“Well,” it’s not that weird but it does feel weird when your boyfriend is turned on by a 2D character. “Choose one, big boy.”

“Why would any of them wants to have sex with me?”

“I don’t know.” you laugh. You know it sounds kind of weird but who cares? “Maybe they think you’re hot.”

“Nonsense.” He inhales a deep breath, biting his lower lips in an attempt of rethinking his decision, before turning to you like he has made a decision. “Alright, background aside okay?”

You raise your shoulders, agreeing with whatever his condition is. You don’t really care about their backgrounds, you just want to see which one of the female characters that got your man hard. 

“I personally think Esdeath is sexier.” he confesses, grimacing when he sees your serious listening face. However you keep him going, no attempt to cut him off. “Her outfit is always on point, but she looks very sexy in this one episode. So-” Youngjae scrambles to shake himself out of the narration, ending his answer with a simple statement. “I’d choose Esdeath.”

Tonight is the second night of the weekend and as you both had agreed to, it’s Youngjae’s gaming slash anime night. Usually he would be watching anime up until midnight and then continue by playing games with his friends. However tonight he chose to start playing the game earlier than usual, claiming that none of the animes have uploaded a new episode.

This is where you come in.

You stare into the mirror, looking directly to the satin robe that hugs your curves nicely. It’s light but it’s thick and it’s new. You received it yesterday, just in time for you to wear it on the weekend. 

“I must be insane.” you ruffle your hair, watching it slowly turning into a mess, a beautiful mess. You almost can’t believe that it’s you in the mirror, you look insanely a hot mess. It’s crazy how simple the outfit is but absolutely sexy and alluring.

It’s nothing much. You just want to see his reaction, rile him up and see if you can have him a moaning mess under you.

“Mark, Mark.” Youngjae taps on the shift button repeatedly, moving his cursor to hide his character from the opponents. “They’re just behind the truck.”

“Jaebeom hyung, can you sit down for once?” Yugyeom whines into the microphone, annoyed by the fact that Jaebeom is going to expose their location.

Jaebeom on the other hand is hiding behind a tree, reloading his bullets into the weapon. “Shut up, Yugyeom. I’ve been playing this game longer than you’re born.”

“Shut the crap. You are still learning how to write when I was born.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does.”

“Okay I see someone moving.” Youngjae interrupts their bickering, moving out of his hideout to a safe place. He wants a chicken dinner tonight and he’s not going to let anyone ruin the fun for him. “I can see his head….”

A shot is fired and Youngjae screams in triumph, successfully eliminating the annoying opponent that has been trying to kill his teammates. As usual, Youngjae being the expert one among them and Mark comes second while Yugyeom and Jaebeom casually got killed and left both of them alone to carry the team. Youngjae had to be satisfied with the squad because at least, they know how to play. If he asked Bambam or Jinyoung to play with him, nevermind. Oh Jackson? Not even a chance. That man doesn’t know how to stop once he starts working.

“Have anyone heard from Jackson hyung?” Youngjae asks, moving his character to steal the weapons and other things from the dead bodies. “It’s been a month since I heard about him.”

“Yeah.” Jaebeom answers distractedly, still trying to load his weapon. “Last time I heard, he’s still in China.”

The door creaks open and if Youngjae doesn’t have one of his ears free from the headphone, he might not have heard the sound. It’s very discreet, very soft as if someone is sneaking into the room. Not that Youngjae knows anyone that is able to sneak into his gaming room without his permission.

Ah yes. Except this one.

“What are you-- what?” Youngjae’s jaw hangs open by the time he tears his vision from the screen to you, standing in your glory right a meter away from him. 

“Why? What happened? Is y/n there?” jaebeom.

“Not really a problem though. Can I say hi to y/n?” yugyeom.

“I can see someone coming, guys.” Mark.

Youngjae doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or to cry. You’re standing about a few feet away from him, in an attire that is foreign to his eyes but absolutely gorgeous, sexy, deathly- did he say deathly? -- and fuck you look so fucking sexy. Your satin gown is modest yet slutty, exposing your chest and only covers half of your breast, the only thing that probably holds the placket of your robe is the three little buttons on your navel which threatens to burst.

Shit.

Something comes to his mind and right when he recognises your outfit, a certain name slips through his lips. “Esdeath.”

“Es- what?” Jaebeom asks, still distracted by the incoming attack from the enemies. 

“Esdeath?” Yugyeom on the other hand, successfully shot the new incomer and went into hiding while still focusing on the topic. “Esdeath as in the Esdeath in Akame Ga Kill?”

“Esdeath visited you?” Jaebeom mutters incredulously through the microphone. Youngjae can see that he’s squinting at the screen, probably trying to see the ‘Esdeath’ he mentioned. “You’re talking nonsense.”

“What- what are you doing?” this time Youngjae totally feels like crying. He forgot that he’s video conferencing to play PUBG and the possibility of his friends watching this through their screen frightened him. Muting the microphone, he looks at you again with mixed expression. “Baby, what are you doing?”

His voice sounds desperate and you haven’t even started anything yet. Yet. 

You let Youngjae’s eyes wander from your collarbone, down to the valley of your breast and to the buttons on your navel and further until his eyes fly to meet yours again, lust clouding his mind. You can see his pupils dilate, eye blown and breathless. 

It’s fun to see him affected. It makes you feel powerful. It makes you feel extremely satisfied.

Perhaps this is what Youngjae has always been feeling whenever he dominates you during sex.

“Baby?” he calls out again, desperate to know what you had in mind. 

Your eyes zeroed on the growing tent under his pants, it’s evident that Youngjae is already half-hard.

“I just want to ruin your mind tonight.” the immediate satisfaction fuels your desire to make Youngjae bend for you after watching his reaction. Youngjae is, what you can make out right now, utterly speechless. 

“I- I don’t understand- wait-,” as Youngjae stutters with his words, you’re already kneeling on the floor, pulling his gaming chair facing the pc again, slotting yourself between the table and Youngjae’s inviting man spread. 

“There is nothing for you to understand.” you utter while the tip of your fingers play with the string of his sweatpants. Youngjae’s eyes follow your hand down, his breath hitches as you press your palm on his hardening cock, giving him a firm grip. His moan almost comes out as a whimper, grimacing at the slightest contact as he tries not to show it on his face. 

“Youngjae?” Mark calls, snapping Youngjae out of his trance. He scrambles to switch the microphone on, just in time you pull down his pants, exposing his cock to your eager eyes.

The coolness of your palm wraps around his cock and the way you grip him makes Youngjae hisses in pain and pleasure, enough to elicit a curse out of him. “Fuck.”

Yugyeom quickly detects the change in Youngjae’s mood, asking him if he is fine and able to continue the game. And in all honesty, Youngjae wanted to leave the game the moment you walk in with the outfit, the fucking sexy outfit. He can’t describe how turned on he was, seeing you almost naked with that Esdeath cosplay.

“One moment, Gyeom-ah.” Youngjae is about to reply when you tug on his shirt, wanting to say something to him. “What is it, sweetheart?”

For the third time of the night, Youngjae wants to cry out loud. You are sitting under his table in that robe, your breast threatening to burst out of the tight material and fuck- Youngjae is so fucking hard. 

“Let’s make a deal. If you can finish the game quietly while I suck you,” your aura is absolutely different tonight, Youngjae realises that. You’re more dominating and goodness gracious, Youngjae have no problem with that. You’re so hot and Youngjae would give anything for you to suck him. “I’ll let you rip this robe off me and fuck me senseless.” 

Youngjae’s eyes widen at your suggestion. You’re making a deal with him? For what?

“And what if I can’t?”

“Well, if you can’t,” you drag your nail along his shaft, sending shivers up his spine. “Then you’ll let me ride you. Let me fuck myself on your cock.” you challenge him, holding his cock towards your lips, sucking his head lightly. Saltiness of his pre-cum invades your taste bud and you’re now addicted, wanting more of his cock. 

Youngjae inhales a deep breath, shifting in his place before unmuting his microphone, resuming his attention to the game.

Oh, bring it on.

“Youngjae, why are you so slow?” Jaebeom asks, running towards the unidentified dead bodies. He starts collecting the weapon and life stock while Youngjae’s game character stops in the middle of the track as if it’s malfunctioning. Technically, the owner of that character is, indeed, malfunctioning.

Youngjae’s breath labored as you continued to bob up and down his length, fisting his cock from the base and stroking his scrotum. It’s hard not to moan. Youngjae has been enduring your teasing quite good so far, only occasional hiccups and soft whines escapes from him and went unnoticed by other members. 

Youngjae has long given up to switch his microphone from mute to unmute then to mute again, he now resorts to detaching his headphone away from his head after muting the microphone so he won’t have to hear anything.

“Baby.” he whines, hips thrusting upwards as you kitten licks his head and slots your tongue on his slit, collecting his pre-cums. Youngjae’s cock is dangerously red, as if if you try to lick him one more time, you’ll see blood. His veins pop up and paint his length angrily. “Please baby. I don’t want to play the game anymore.”

“Hm?” you ask, not quite hearing his pleas. You take him in your mouth again, going down on him until he’s deep in your throat, humming to your satisfaction. His cock isn’t exactly big but he definitely makes up for the girth with his length and his stroke. “You’re saying?”

“I just-” a loud moan escapes him after you deep throat him once again, hitting your gag reflex. Youngjae trashes in his seat, holding the back of your head gently but firmly. It’s too much pleasure for him you guess. “Fuck. fuck. Fuck. please baby. Don’t do this to me.”

You release him with a pop and watch his cock curves backward, smearing the mixture of his precums and your saliva against his shirt. You don’t care about the video conferencing at the moment, you just push him further from the table so you can stand up and straddle him on his chair. They can watch if they want to.

You tug on the string of your underwear, revealing your nicely trimmed pussy to his eyes. At the sight of your drenched core, Youngjae mutters curses under his breath, reaching a finger to your fold.

“Fuck.” he caress your fold with his middle finger, occasionally dipping it inside only to let a gush of wetness out of your pussy. “Fuck, you’re drenched.”

“Mmhm.” you agree. You’re wet from all the thoughts while you suck his cock, thinking of how good it would feel when you ride him. “Can I ride you now?”

“Fuck.” Youngjae’s hand grips your hip as he guides you, slowly sheathing his cock inside you at your speed. “Ride my cock, use my cock. Do whatever you want.”

“Oh-” you let out a long moan to the stretch of your pussy is extremely good, the feeling of being filled with Youngjae’s cock takes you to another level of ecstasy. Even though you have been fucked a lot, however, riding Youngjae’s cock is always, undefeated pleasure. 

“Are you being filled well, princess?” Youngjae asks as he’s balls deep inside you. 

“So, so full, Youngjae.”

“Goodness.” Youngjae’s hands roam all over your ass, then up to your navel, pinching your nipples through the satin robe. “You dressed up like Esdeath to have sex with me?”

“I just wanted to try a new thing.” You shift in your place and Youngjae’s tip nudges a certain spot in you, causing you to throw your head back, gripping on his shoulder tightly. Your eyes shut close as you start to ride his cock, feeling the bliss of his veins against your walls. 

Youngjae on the other hand is dazed with your breast, bouncing right in front of him. He reaches down and a quick flick of his thumb, your robe is open and you’re absolutely naked to him, at least. Your robe stays on your body but the upper part of the robe has slid down and exposed your shoulder, probably a good view for the boys.

“Look at these breasts.” he tuts, sticking his tongue to graze one of your nipples. It’s not a secret that Youngjae loves your breast and he probably has a fetish for your twin peaks. He always gives extra attention and he can go on for hours, licking and sucking your nipples.

“Want me to feed you?” you ask, hips moving up and down his length but you can always multitask, cupping your breasts and bringing them together, putting the nipples close. “Suck them, please?”

“Fuck. Yes fuck. Fuck.” he holds you by your waist, sucking your peaks alternately. Whenever the tip of his tongue grazes one of your nipples, your walls tighten around his cock, causing him to hiss in return. “You’re really enjoying this, huh?”

You nod, impaling yourself on his cock. You’re getting tired and you don’t really feel your legs so your movement starts to falter, slowing down after a few while. “Jae…”

“Tired?” he chuckles, tapping your ass as you nod to his question. As much as you enjoy riding him, you have to admit that your stamina would never surpass Youngjae’s. 

Youngjae lifts you in his arms and just like that, his dominant side appears again. Bringing you to the bed, Youngjae manages to press his cock deeper inside you, making you moan all the way. 

“Look at you.” he tuts when you’re spread on the bed, half naked in your Esdeath cosplay. “So beautiful.”

“So fucking sexy.”

“The death of me.” Youngjae’s hand trails up your leg, past your navel and cups your breast, pinching and rolling your taut bud. You actually shiver at the change of his emotion, retracting to become the submissive partner like you always did.

“Youngjae.”

“Hm?”

“Fuck me.” you plead, whispering as if someone will hear you. Ironic, you thought. Youngjae’s friends have probably disconnected the video conferencing because of your lewd moans and now you dare to whisper? “Please,”

“Oh yeah, of course my Esdeath. I’d fuck you hard and raw.” he promises, lining his cock at your entrance. “Be my guest.”

Copyright © 2020 jjpmoans. All rights reserved

[ Masterlist ] |  [ All Sins Week Masterlist ]

[barcaavengers]

Decisions || Newt Imagine

Note: I hope the lovely nonnie is around who made this imagine request! I’m sorry for taking so long but it is finally here! Not sure if there will be another part, but most probably there will be. Leave any comments or suggestions, as well as feedback!

Tags: Tagging those who liked my posts and the request! 

@hxrryftdelrey​ @seaveynewt @mayakalo @loverofmazeandthrones​ @lovely-leigh​ @meadows-of-light​ @sleepysnapesnake​ @iwokeupinabadmood​ @enixgucci​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine. Credit to rightful owner

Your ears seem to have muted the sound of the helicopter because you have not heard anything until the boys started calling your name from far away. It takes you a couple of seconds, but your eyes open slowly, only to have Minho besides you screaming at Thomas to move while Frypan was calling your name and helping you up. You try to catch up quickly as Frypan pulls you to your feet, the guards rushing you in the midst of the wind from the helicopter lifting up the sand around you. Your eyes squint to prevent any particles to fly in, and you take a small look around you to see the surroundings. 

The guards were shooting at something, after bullets are fired you hear the loud screech, and you remember the sound from the video that played at the Wicked facility. A shiver goes down your spine at the memory, the bodies, the brief explanation Ava had given before killing herself… You get ushered into a facility, and it takes you a moment to fix your gaze on something until the doors close with a loud thud, reminding you of the Glade walls when they closed. Everyone was as perplexed as you were, looking around before you started being guided into the facility by a man called Janson. He promised safety and Wicked not finding you, and a sigh of relief rushes through you. 

The boy next to you seems to have noticed your tense demeanor, because he reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and providing a reassuring squeeze reminding you you were not alone. 

"You okay, love?" He asks quietly as he gives you a small tug to get you closer so he is able to talk in a low tone. 

"Yeah, the helicopter ride is wearing off" you admit to him. 

Janson continues to explain the facility, mentioning you will be fed and taken care of and nothing sounded better than that right now. You are taken to showers, away from the guys which made you somewhat uneasy. Being around them for so long for basically every hour has made you feel like a part of you was missing when you were apart, like in the Maze, even if Minho was right besides you. You have stayed quite a while in the shower, enjoying how the hot water washed away the dirt from the Glade and the stickiness of the sweat after running for your lives. The clothing provided was comfortable, and just right, not being able to feel the coldness of the air conditioning as much, but not feeling the hot temperature as well. You are provided with small meals, being told that you should all start with something light before going through stronger food, just to not throw it all. You are taken into rooms with beds to rest before they call you to run some tests to make sure you were all healthy. As soon as your head touches the fluffiness of the pillow your head rests on, you drift to sleep in just a matter of minutes, dozing off entirely. 

"You look sleepy" Newt teases as he walks beside you once you are being led to the labs. 

"The bed was so comfortable" you whine playfully. 

"So, you are saying I wasn't comfortable?" He jokes before pulling you close by the hand. "I feel like I slept like a baby, and how long was it? Three hours of sleep only?" He asks. "The difference of sleeping on those hammocks but at the Glade and a proper bed" he says. "Something that the bastards who put us in there didn't have the decency to provide."

"I had a comfortable bed" you point out with a soft grin most of the times you slept in Newt's arm, sound asleep as you enjoyed the warmth of his body on yours. 

"Good," he says. 

The group halts as they take in the labs. So many machines, needles, nurses, liquids, instruments... This facility had it all. Since there wasn't enough equipment to do the same test to everyone at once, they divided you into groups to run different tests, and you hated to be the one to get a feel of a needle first. You sat in a comfortable chair where a lady worked on you, Teresa a few feet away in a hospital bed. The nurse cleans the area before sticking the needle inside without a warning, "That wasn't so bad, was it?" She asks, and honestly it was going fine until you decided to look where the needle had poked through the skin and you started to see the blood rushing into the tube. 

"I-" you look away, the need to throw up present and you could feel what you ate last threatening to come up your throat, leaving a horrible taste in your mouth. 

The lady gives you a cotton ball with alcohol scent for you to smell on, saying that it should help with the dizziness you felt but it barely did a thing. "Still feeling lightheaded, sweetie?"

"Yeah...Like I want to throw up too" you say as you keep smelling on the cotton ball while she works with placing a round bandage over the poked skin. 

"Maybe blood makes you sick" she says. "It is normal on some people."

"I saw blood more often than I like to admit" you confess. "Human and animal…" you add. 

"Don't worry, every test we run in you will let us know if you are sick, but I don't think you are," she says and sits besides you. "I'll ask you a couple of questions to guide us better." The woman reaches for a pen and a wooden clipboard. "Y/N, right?"

"Yeah" you nod your head and relax your body. She asked about fever, coughs, body pains which you mention your legs, maybe a sign of being a runner, any broken bones or accidents you may have had in the Glade, and your job at the Glade. 

"Have you had sex?" Your eyes go too wide and your neck almost snaps as you look at her. The only time you have had that question asked was with Alby, and he was so smooth about it that it didn't sound like that question at first. He had sat down with you and Newt, both of you staring confused when he had asked if 'you have been together'. Alby was of the few people of the Glade who knew right away when you two got together. 

"Um…" 

"It's okay if you have. Nothing to be ashamed of" she gives you a reassuring smile. "This stays between us, nobody else knows."

"Uh…" you hesitate. "Yes." The nurse eyes you for a moment, nods her head and writes something down. 

"Recently? I'm sorry, I know it's personal but for our tests purposes we must know an estimate to determine a few things and scratch off others."

It makes sense…"Two? Maybe three weeks ago?" That's the last time you at least remembered that things were somewhat normal before everything started going wrong, Thomas and Teresa arrived, the walls stopped closing, Grievers came in...Now that you think of it, things got really bad really quick. 

"And this was the last time you had your period?" These questions were so bizarre. 

"Maybe a month or so" you say and they realize your answer, making your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Shouldn't you have gotten your period? Yoh shake it off cause you have never been the regular type, one time you had it the same month twice and it was a nightmare. 

"Alright" she writes something in her papers. "That should do it for now. You can go to your next test" she nods her head before standing up. Not even a few minutes after, they came to get you to continue. 

After many more needles, running, patches covering your body and head, you are led to some sort of cafeteria where there were many boys and girls like you, and it takes you a minute to get your eyes fixed on your group before walking to them. Frypan raises his head before waving at you, it causes the rest of your friends to look up and start moving on the table to make space for you, mostly to be side by side with Newt. 

"Hey, guys" you say, sticking one leg in first, then the other as you sit down. 

"Took them long enough to return you back to us," Minho says. "What special thing did they do to you?"

"Nothing, I think" you admit. "Just really personal questions" you say and look at Newt, his jaw was clenched. 

"What were they asking?" 

"Last time we…" you trail off and your eyes widen slightly for him to catch the hint. 

Minho is looking between the two of you intently. "I don't follow."

"Wait, last time we had…?" Newt asks, confusion taking over his features. 

"Yeah" you decide to ignore Minho and his question, he will figure it out eventually. "And last time I was on my period, which I get now, probably to know if it's normal or something" you shrug. "It's weird it hasn't happened for a while now."

"A month, right?" Newt knew because he would take care of you and pamper you with whatever you needed. You also had small pains and headaches during the first days and he would always be around in case you felt sick. 

"Wait, you know when her period is?" Thomas asks. 

"Man, that's weird," Frypan says. "but smart though, and cute."

"We can stop talking about periods now. Anyone wanna join me get some guys and see what their maze was like? See what we can find out about these people?" Minho asks. 

"I'm in," Winston says, Frypan and Thomas join and with Minho they leave for another table. 

"You alright?" Newt kisses your temple and offers you his bottle of water. "You look anxious."

"It's just this place...So many other kids, like us" you say. "They are all from different Mazes?"

"Looks so" Newt says, reaching for your hand and giving it a squeeze. "Want to see if they let us out of here to our beds?"

"I don't think they'll let you come along" you say with a grin. 

"Just pretend to be dizzy, maybe they will. At least to be with you for a few minutes with the lot of people around."

Surprisingly they let Newt take you to the dorm, being escorted of course. You ask for a few minutes with Newt and the guard nods his head before closing the door behind you two. Newt cups your cheek and kisses you, his eyes shut tightly as his lips press against yours while he holds his breath. "I was getting scared already" he admits against your lips. "When they didn't bring you in after us" he says. "Tommy and I were already planning to get you, and Teresa, but she hasn't come to join us yet. It's strange" he says and you both sit down on the bed. 

"I'm okay" you assure him. "They had me running, and ran a few tests on me. I hope everything is okay, though" you admit. If they were done with the guys quickly, why did it take so long with you? And where was Teresa?

"I'm sure it's alright. You are a tough one, luv" Newt says with a smile and you run your fingers through his hair. "You look nice all washed up" he steals a kiss from you and you giggle. 

"Not bad yourself" you tease. "I hope they later let us stay together...I don't think I'll be getting much sleep these first days."

"We will find a way, love. I'll sneak in somehow" and just in cue the guard calls on Newt. "I love you, I'll see you later, 'kay?" He gives you a short, passionate kiss before pulling away. 

"Love you too" you say as the guard shuts the door close after he walks out. You lay back on the bed and close your eyes. The bed was too comfortable and the pillow too fluffy to neglect getting sleep, so you try to ease your thoughts before falling into a deep slumber. 

The next day you are all in the cafeteria area again, your group now sat with other guys from other mazes, talking about them and how they got out. Newt asks them about what happened to the people inside the Glade which a boy answers that he didn't know. Your hand squeezes Newt's thigh letting him know you could read his mind, he was thinking about the others that were left there to their luck, the ones Gally convinced to stay because they would meet death upon leaving. Then they start calling people and another one of the boys explains that it is to be taken to a Haven, some sort of place away from everything and only a few are selected. The boys continue to talk so you look around, spotting a couple of girls on a bench, then a whole table of them, another one with only a boy around them. 

Second day you are taken again to the cafeteria, seems it was the only place you could all gather around. Everyone was eating their breakfast but you felt nauseous since you woke up, not having any appetite for anything in your tray. Thomas is saying something about a boy showing him a place through the air vents, but it was under strict access. "I need to know what's behind that door."

"You said you saw a body?" You ask him. 

"Not the body, but it had scanners, like showing heart rates and vitals and other things" Thomas says to you. "Aris says he thinks nobody really leaves this place…"

"There isn't an access through the air vents to that room?"

"No. He tried but it stopped right out of it...They have to be hiding something…" Thomas seemed so sure. Minho and Newt exchange glances.

"Y/N?" Janson approaches your table and everyone looks up at him quickly. "Please, come with me."

"Where is Teresa?" Thomas asks. 

"She is safe. We are only running a few tests on her."

"And why does Y/N have to go with you?" Newt asks, his hand reaching to hold onto yours. "You already called everyone for your little paradise place" you noticed that Thomas' words have put him uneasy. 

"We just need to run a few more tests on her," Janson offers a smirk. "She will be back in a couple of minutes, I promise" he says and one of the guards reaches for your arm which you tug away quickly. 

"I can stand on my own, thanks." Your body turns to Newt. "I'll be alright, okay?"

"I know…" he says and squeezes your hand before letting go. 

"More tests?" You ask the doctor who asked you to lay down on the table. 

"We found something," she says as she sits besides you. "I'll show you." She reaches to lift up your shirt and you pull it down quickly. "It's okay…" she says, you hesitate before letting go of the hem of your shirt. 

She places some kind of gel on your stomach, "What is that for? Is something wrong?" You start worrying, because if she was going to run tests on your stomach and your nauseous state in the morning, it had you wondering if your stomach was sick in a way you needed treatment. Maybe so long in the Glade...but you always ate. Your head was spinning with possible causes. 

"You'll see" she starts running an instrument along your belly, looking at a monitor as she does. You eye them both curiously as she seems to be looking for something. "Ah, there it is" she says with a smile. "See that small figure over there?" She asks and points at the monitor, your eyes squint at it. "That's your baby," she says, "congratulations."

The room starts spinning around you, eyes wide, your chest feeling tight all of a sudden, you find it hard to breathe. You take small breaths and let them go rather quickly. "I'm sorry," you take in some air. "My what?"

"You are pregnant" she repeats and the words take a while to process in your head, your lips agape in surprise. 

"I-" you trail off looking at the monitor. You were pregnant… You were expecting a baby. No. Newt and you were expecting a baby… Your baby. "I-" no words come out of your lips. You are speechless. 

"We wanted to let you know," she reaches for a napkin and hands it over to you to wipe out the gel from your stomach. "You can go back to your friends" she says, standing up and leaving the room. 

You return to the cafeteria, all the walk there thinking how to tell Newt, how would he react, what words to say? It wasn't like you were expecting the news, or like you knew what to say right now. You sit next to Newt, right in the corner of the bench, his arm goes around your shoulder and he eyes the guys when he notices your tense body. "Love? Are you alright? You look like you have seen a ghost. You look pale." He places a hand on your cheek. "Did they hurt you? If they hurt you I'll bloody-"

"A baby" you blurt out. Thomas turns his attention to you and Minho raises his eyebrows, Newt looks at you in confusion, Frypan joins the trio's expression as well.

"What? What baby?" Newt asks

"Ours" and you slowly turn to him. "Newt, I'm...we are having a baby."

"Oh shuck" Minho blurts out.

"How did you guys even made time to-" Frypan gets interrupted by Newt.

"What?!" Newt's eyes go wider. "Did they-"

"Yeah...A doctor showed me." Your hand goes to your belly, running your fingers on top of your shirt. "Newt...I- I don't know what to say or what to do" your vision starts getting blurry from the tears. 

"Hey, no, love. It's okay. It's okay" he coos as he pulls you to his chest and wraps his arms around you. "I don't know what to say either... Other than I'm happy in a way, we will have our own little lady or little boy running around in a couple of months...Our baby" his last words sound like he is repeating it for his own processing. "We are safe here…"

"We don't know that yet," Thomas steps in.

"I said, we are safe here" Newt says through his clenched jaw at his friend, and you couldn't see him but you knew he is getting a death glare from your boyfriend. "We will figure it out. We have time" he pulls you away and pecks your lips, his hand covering yours on your belly. "I didn't know it would be this fast, though."

"What? You thought the baby would wait in there to be cooked up after you two-"

"Minho!" You call and the boy grins.

"Congratulations, though," Frypan says. "The little one will have one hell of a story of how it got made." He and Minho high five and Newt pinches the bridge of his nose.

"All the bloody supportive things you can say and you shanks have to go through the last ones of the list" Newt complains and turns to you. "Babe, I-" you can see him struggling with words. "Are you okay with this? I mean, obviously maybe you are not because this is so unexpected and-"

"Newt," you call and meet his gaze, "I'm- I want this baby. I don't want it to grow up here though…"

"We will figure it out. If this place is true we should be all good, love." Thomas parts his lips to say something but Newt is quick to glare at him. 

Third day you are sitting in the cafeteria, Newt is already worrying about you when you don't come in quick wondering if something happened to you, like you fainted or the morning sickness was too much for you. "I don't like being away from you, now more than ever" he says and presses his lips against your temple. 

"I'm fine, okay?"

"If something we know from Y/N is that she can take care of herself" Winston says and you smile at him. You liked that he gave you a confidence boost and the most needed moments. 

"Have you seen Teresa?" Thomas asks and Minho rolls his eyes. 

"No, I haven't...I don't know where she is…"

"Aris and I will go into that room tonight, we just need a plan to get an access card there."

"Alright, listen up folks, we have the new list of those whose lives are about to begin" Janson says as he is handed a clipboard. He mentions a few names, ones who you take a moment to remember to not name your baby from how weird they were. "And Y/N." Your eyes go wide and the whole group in your table turns to you, Newt's eyes showing panic. 

"No, there must be a mistake. I just got here, I-" you trail off and a few guards come over to you and you stand up, chin up, defying them. 

"Don't you dare to touch her" Newt stands by your side quickly and places a hand in front of you. 

"You will deny her the chance to be away from this place? Of your baby growing somewhere else?" Janson asks as he approaches the group, Thomas, Frypan, Winston and Minho stand behind you. 

"Because it is our baby, I won't let you take her" Newt takes a step forward in front of you. 

"I won't go anywhere without them" you say to the guards.

"Unfortunately, this isn't a choice…" Janson says, a guard moves forward but he is quick to raise his hand. 

"You are threatening her right in front of us?" Thomas takes a step forward and a guard is quick to push him, but he continues to struggle, "Where is this place exactly, huh?!" After a few seconds, Frypan holds Thomas back and he stops struggling. 

"Let's not ruin the excitement for others, okay? Let's do this as amicably as possible." He says. "And I am sure you don't want to be taken in your sleep, leaving your friends wondering what happened to you." His tone was almost threatening. Why was he insisting so much in taking you when so many others were there before you. "I'm sure you'd like what's best for your baby, and this is it. So please…" Janson steps aside and you eye your friends, then your boyfriend. 

"I'll be fine, okay?" 

"Love, don't-" you press a kiss to his lips. "I'll come back to you" you whisper against his lips before pressing another kiss. 

"Be careful, love" Newt says as he watches you being escorted by the guards and Janson trailing not far behind. "So," Newt turns to Thomas. "What do you have of this bloody plan of yours? I need to know that she is not being taken into a strict access room where I won't see her…"

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

The Ides Of March

(A Darren Treacy x Jeanie Turner mini-series)

Prologue - Bad Romance

Word Count: 1815

Warnings: language, violence, murder, mention of sexual assault, angst

A/N: On Saint Patrick's Day, Darren and Jeanie start receiving ominous, cryptic text messages claiming to be from the future. Play the game; save Darren. Jeanie's rules are simple enough: If Dazz can catch her out in Dublin, he can have her any way and anywhere he wants. So how did a night of wild sex and whiskey lead to murder? *Spoilers for Love/Hate series 3*

Sequel to “The Sinner’s Prayer” Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

There are tiny moments that contain millions of choices we all make. It's not a choose your own adventure; there's not always time to think cohesively. Add in copious amounts of liquor and sex and a person may become impulsive. As Jeanie cocked the gun pointed in Nidge’s direction, she found herself in the middle of one of those flip-of-the-coin situations.

She followed every hint, every cryptic text from a burner phone that was meant to prevent this exact instant. But the vile leader of an IRA faction lay slowly dying from internal injuries at her feet. Siobhan, softly sobbing hid her face in Tommy’s shoulder. Darren, behind her, still held the keg by the handle. Nidge was the only one who could square up. He was pacing like a trapped animal, enraged and seething. Jeanie never faltered in her aim.

“We're done here, Delaney,” the words came out distorted. “Right now. This was a nice night. I saw a great concert. I drank loads of fucking liquor. I have had more sex in the last few hours than I have in the last few years. I literally got eaten out in a pub loo. I'm getting divorced, and if Trish was smart she'd get a divorce too.”

“Red-” Darren tried.

Jeanie spun on him, the gun pointed too close for either’s comfort. Darren’s eyes like a deer in headlights. “I'm not losing you. I'm not letting this life eat anymore of you. Siobhan already paid the price.”

“Just put the gun down please. I'm only trying t’put him out, love. Look at the bastard.”

“It's a butterfly effect, Dazz. You're already too much for them.” Tears threatened Jeanie’s eyes.

Darren put his hand on the muzzle of the gun cautiously and pointed it down to the floor. “What the fuck are ye talking about? Jeanie, you've been barking all night. Not that I don't appreciate the craic,” he smirked, “Or the shaggin’. The panic attack when we walked through the door earlier. How did ye know about Git?”

Jeanie fished in her cleavage for her mobile and tossed it to Darren. He opened it up and used his own for comparison. He studied the texts on both screens with confusion in his eyes.

“You've been getting them too, right?”

“But how?”

Only Darren and Jeanie existed right now. And the soft gurgling of Git as he drowned in his own blood. The choked crying of a young woman who had been assaulted. They were alone, but aware. So deeply aware of their situation.

“Oh please, can ye even fire a fucking gun?” Nidge’s voice broke through.

Jeanie whirled again, her arm around the side of Darren's friend. It was all fluid. Her arms moved with resistance like underwater. The gun aimed somewhere towards the back of the basement or front. No one was sure. It was just where she pointed the gun and pulled the trigger.

One by one dominos topped in a new pattern. Siobhan screamed, but the sound was deafening so her panic was muted. The gun kicked back causing Jeanie’s elbow to vibrate. Almost like someone checked her reflexes with a small hammer. A burst of concrete where the bullet hit a wall, and Darren dropped the keg with an even louder crash.

In Nidge’s terror, he went to flee from Jeanie's bullet . His entire weight landed on Git’s face. Nidge’s trainer came down with a sickening crunch like a knife in butter. Git’s face was the butter. The gurgle ceased.

The last domino fell. Jeanie dropped the weapon to her side and staggered backwards into Darren’s arms. He tried to take the gun but she jerked it away.

Instead he switched gears and mumbled nonsensical words of comfort. “I've got yous.” and “Jeanie, it'll be ok” She stared up at him as a tremble rolled through her. Darren put his hand on her face and sort of started fixing her hair. Then, with a turn of her head, Jeanie vomited absolutely everywhere.

“Lovely. Just fucking lovely,” Nidge said. “Typical Americans.”

Darren held Jeanie by the arms and bent to look her in the eye. “Alright, sweetheart? Nidge and Tommy and I have t’ take care of this. Why don't ye call Laura or Ewan, and have them come get the pair of ye. Siobhan too? Get her cleaned up and get some sleep. Crash at my gaff, ok?”

Jeanie was numb. Catatonic almost as Darren and Tommy formed a circle. Their heads literally together as they attempted a plan.

Jeanie straightened her back and made her way to Siobhan who held herself tightly. Like she was trying to fade into the background. She put her arms around the young woman who started with a jump but relaxed into Jeanie. The gun finally out of her hands and on the desk beside them.

“Here's what we're gonna do, ok? Do you want me to call Trish or Mary? You aren't gonna clean yourself or even pee. We're gonna take you to hospital. They'll clean you up and take samples. Then we can get you some tea and a warm shower and a nice bed. Dazz has a nice bed. Then I'll get Layton, and bring him to you. That sound good?”

Siobhan nodded softly in agreement, but her uncle wasn't having it. He shoved Darren and Tommy aside to bellow at the two women huddled in the corner together. His finger pointed in Jeanie’s face.

“She’s not gonna do a goddamn thing you say. You're gonna sit right here while Uncle Nidge and the boys clean up this bitch’s mess.”

There was not a single thought that went through Jeanie's head. Was this how Darren's brain was wired to live this lifestyle? Just react and pay for it later while you're trying to live until the next job.

But she was done, she knew that much. Done being left behind. Treated like she was the good little obedient housewife. Having men tell her what she can and can't do. Shut up, sit still and be a good girl. But open your legs. It was being done that caused her to hold the gun up again and point the barrel to Nidge's forehead.

“Darren doesn't work for you anymore, Nigel. Tommy, you can stay here or you can take care of your wife. No one owes him any loyalty.”

“Come on, I didn't mean bitch. We just have to fix it. Then you and Treacy can do whatever.”

Jeanie cocked the gun again until it clicked, “No. You can call Elmo or Fran. Can't call Aido can you? Seeing as you got him shot. Dazz gave you a lung, the love of his life, his sister and his fucking mind. He's not giving you or this bullshit anything else.”

“Red-”

Jeanie swung the gun on Darren without thinking. He flinched and ducked, But she kept her wits about her. She aimed the gun at Nidge once more.

“Dazz, take your shoes off,” she instructed.

“What?”

“You're standing in this cunt’s blood. Take your trainers off and leave them. Socks too, and stand behind me. Then text Ewan and tell him to meet us here with a car. We're going to your flat, then my hotel to pack our bags after we shower and set these clothes on fire. Then we are getting all of our money, our passports and our IDs. Say goodbye to Mary and the girls, and we are going away. Tibet. Phuket. Bali. I don't give a fuck, but we’re flying first class.”

Darren complied. Jeanie couldn't believe it. They shared a look. She couldn't tell if it was relief or the devil in his blazing green eyes, but she was emboldened by it as she bent to take off her own boots. Her focus on Nidge never faltered.

“Ewan said he'll be here in ten or so. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“I'm not above shooting this bastard in the head for you, Dazz. I'm not saying we are settling down and having babies and happily ever after or some shit. I'm saying I don't want you to die. If we have to run half way around the world to make that happen..” Jeanie's body started to quiver. The adrenaline was running out. “First I need a Bloody Mary and some French Toast.”

-------

Jeanie exhaled for the first time in nearly 24 hours. The exhaustion finally set in as she laid back in the ridiculous bed chair thing from“upper class.” She and Darren were beyond first class, they were elite now. Even if it was only for the twelve hours it took to get to Thailand.

She could see his far too short hair sticking out on the other side of the wall. She knew at one point he would sneak in to be with her if only for a little while. Jeanie made him look a bit nicer than his typical trainers and hoodies and denim. She was in a sundress herself. They both knew dressing up was not fitting in. Neither felt they fit in here.

“You good, Dazz?”

“I t’ink so. Still trying t’figure out how we went from shagging in coat rooms and back rooms and toilets to watching an IRA boss,” Darren raised his eyes, “to being on this plane. We have forty.. Enough money to live, maybe years where we're going.”

“You couldn't keep living that life, Darren. Nidge was off his fucking rocker, and everyone around him is gonna pay for it.”

“Rosie would've never done this, you know that right?” He looked plaintively over at Jeanie as she climbed up onto her knees.

“Her loss is my gain though. I know you love me, but I'm not sure about my own feelings. I do care about you alot. I'm probably a danger junkie, so we could end up bored of each other without the fear of being caught or you not having any jobs. Or you could wear colors and learn to meditate, and I'll get a pet monkey and cut all my hair off.”

“Don't ye dare!” Darren laughed. “I'll become a Buddhist, just don't cut that hair.” He twisted his fingers up in it before reaching up to kiss her sweetly. Just a hint of his tongue.

“Fine,” Jeanie rolled her eyes. “But I still want a monkey. We should get some sleep.”

They kissed one last time before she laid back down and closed her eyes. Jeanie knew Darren would be on his side when he would begin to dream. His hand tucked under his cheek and head, mouth slightly agape. She pictured it in her head as she drifted off herself.

“How DID we get here?” she thought before dreaming herself of a game that started in sex but ended in murder.

Tag list: @sean-falco @robertsheehanownsmyass @nightmonsters @super-unpredictable98 @elliethesuperfruitlover @slutforrobbiebro @frogs--are--bitches @forenschik @bisexualnathanyoung @sugdenyoung

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I like my book and I’ll write the plot however I want but at the same time I want everyone to like my story pls like my story -Danny

Words: 3,849 

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘No Goobyes’ -By Dua Lipa

Chapter Thirteen: Dumbledore's Army.

As soon as she sat down next to Ron, a head popped out of the fireplace.

"Sirius!" Ron and Mel exclaimed together.

"Hi," He smiled.

"Hi," They all responded, kneeling around the fire.

"How're things?"

"Not that good," said Harry. "The Ministry's forced through another decree, which means we're not allowed to have Quidditch teams —"

"— or secret Defense Against the Dark Arts groups?" said Sirius.

A second passed.

"How did you know about that?" Harry demanded.

Mel pulled Grey away from the fire while Hermione kept Crookshanks far from it as well.

"Who didn't know about that?" Mel said grumpily.

"You want to choose your meeting places more carefully," said Sirius, his grin only getting wider. "The Hog's Head... How's your Grandad, Mel?"

Ron and Harry, who had no idea of what that meant, turned to look at her with confusion. Mel let out another groan.

"I had to play dumb and pretend I didn't know him," She looked at the boys with a tense expression. "The bartender's my grandad."

"What?!" Ron and Harry asked at the same time.

"Well, it was better than the Three Broomsticks!" said Hermione. "That's always packed with people —"

"— which means you'd have been harder to overhear. You've got a lot to learn, Hermione."

"Who overheard us?" Harry demanded.

"Mundungus, of course," said Sirius laughing. "He was the witch under the veil."

"That was Mundungus?" Harry said. "What was he doing in the Hog's Head?"

"What do you think he was doing?" said Sirius. "Keeping an eye on you, of course."

"I'm still being followed?" asked Harry in outrage.

"Yeah, you are, and just as well, isn't it, if the first thing you're going to do on your weekend off is organize an illegal defence group."

"Why was Dung hiding from us?" asked Ron. "We'd've liked to've seen him."

"He was banned from the Hog's Head twenty years ago, and Mel's gran' got a long memory. We lost Moody's spare Invisibility Cloak when Sturgis was arrested, so Dung's been dressing as a witch a lot lately... Anyway... First of all, Ron — I've sworn to pass on a message from your mother."

"Oh yeah?" said Ron fearfully.

"She says on no account whatsoever are you to take part in an illegal secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group. She says you'll be expelled for sure and your future will be ruined. She says there will be plenty of time to learn how to defend yourself later and that you are too young to be worrying about that right now. She also advises Harry and Hermione not to proceed with the group, though she accepts that she has no authority over either of them and simply begs them to remember that she has their best interests at heart. She would have written all this to you, but if the owl had been intercepted you'd all have been in real trouble, and she can't say it for herself because she's on duty tonight."

"On duty doing what?"

"Never you mind, just stuff for the Order," said Sirius. "So it's fallen to me to be the messenger and make sure you tell her I passed it all on because I don't think she trusts me to."

"What does my mum says about it?"

Sirius smiled again.

"She said 'Why do I even bother?' "

Mel snorted.

"So you want me to say I'm not going to take part in the defence group?" Ron said sadly.

"Me? Certainly not!" said Sirius, raising his eyebrows. "I think it's an excellent idea!"

"You do?" said Harry.

"Shocker," Mel replied sarcastically.

"Of course I do! D'you think your parents and I would've lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?"

"But — last term all you did was tell me to be careful and not take risks —"

"Last year all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry! This year we know that there's someone outside Hogwarts who'd like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!"

"And if we do get expelled?" Hermione asked.

"Hermione, this whole thing was your idea!" said Harry.

"I know it was... I just wondered what Sirius thought," She shrugged.

"Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue," said Sirius.

"We won't get expelled," Mel rolled her eyes. "Not as long as my uncle is Headmaster. He won't throw us out knowing we're being hunted. We're safe as long as we learn how to play our cards."

Sirius gave her a funny look.

"You've been practising your skills, little Em?"

Mel winked at him.

"So," said Sirius, "how are you organizing this group? Where are you meeting?"

"Well, that's a bit of a problem now," said Harry. "Dunno where we're going to be able to go..."

"How about the Shrieking Shack?" suggested Sirius.

"Hey, that's an idea!" said Ron excitedly, but Hermione clicked her tongue.

"Well, Sirius, it's just that there were only five of you meeting in the Shrieking Shack when you were at school, and all of you could transform into animals and I suppose you could all have squeezed under a single Invisibility Cloak if you'd wanted to. But there are about thirty of us and none of us is an Animagus, so we wouldn't need so much an Invisibility Cloak as an Invisibility Marquee —"

"Fair point... Well, I'm sure you'll come up with somewhere... There used to be a pretty roomy secret passageway behind that big mirror on the fourth floor, you might have enough space to practice jinxes in there —"

"Fred and George told me it's blocked," said Harry gloomily. "Caved in or something."

"Oh..." Sirius frowned. "Well, I'll have a think and get back to —"

His eyes widened slightly, and he turned his head to the side as if hearing something.

"Sirius?" Harry asked quietly. Sirius' head pulled back abruptly. "Why did he — ?"

A hand had appeared amongst the flames, groping as though to catch hold of something; a stubby, short-fingered hand covered in ugly old-fashioned rings...

The four of them stood up and ran, Mel and Harry both stopped and looked back at Umbridge's hand in the fire. Both frightened, wide-eyed, before disappearing into their rooms.

"Hermione," Mel whispered so Parvati and Lavender wouldn't wake up, closing the door behind her. "I talked to Erick today."

"About what?"

"I think we solved the communication problem," She said, pulling out her watch and handing it to her friend. "But I'll need your help."

"Silencio!" said Hermione hastily, pointing her wand at Harry's frog, which deflated silently before them. "Well, he mustn't do it again, that's all. I just don't know how we're going to let him know. We can't send him an owl."

"I can send one to my mum," Mel objected, silencing her raven with one swift wand movement.

"I don't reckon he'll risk it again," said Ron. "He's not stupid, he knows she nearly got him. Silencio!" Ron's raven only sounded louder. "Silencio! SILENCIO!"

"It's the way you're moving your wand," said Hermione. "You don't want to wave it, it's more a sharp jab."

"Ravens are harder than frogs," said Ron. Mel gave him a look as she held her mute raven.

"Fine, let's swap," said Hermione. "Silencio!"

The raven stopped making a sound.

"Very good, Miss Granger!" said Professor Flitwick. "Now, let me see you try, Mr Weasley!"

Mel snorted, earning a nudge from Hermione.

"Wha — ? Oh — oh, right," said Ron. "Er — Silencio!"

He poked the frog in the eye; it gave a deafening croak and jumped off the desk.

"I already told you I'll help you with charms!" Mel exclaimed, trying to aim to Peeves, who was floating above them and attempting to throw an ink pellet at the students.

It was raining hard outside, so they were left to hang out inside the classrooms with little to do.

"Like you helped me last week?" Ron asked bitterly.

"I said I was sorry, all right?" She rolled her eyes. "Lost track of time..."

"You didn't want to help me," He argued.

"Don't be silly," She retorted. "Watch this..."

She flicked her wand and shot a splash of ice-cold water towards Peeves' butt. The Poltergeist yelped and turned around, but Mel had hidden her wand and was now looking at Ron, pretending to be focused on the conversation. Peeves left the classroom fuming, once gone, they erupted into cackles.

"You shouldn't taunt him, Mel," Hermione warned her. "He can be cruel if he wants to."

"Me too," The girl smirked.

"I've got permission!" Angelina ran into the classroom. "To re-form the Quidditch team!"

"Excellent!" said the boys.

"Yeah, I went to McGonagall and I think she might have appealed to Dumbledore — anyway, Umbridge had to give in. Ha! So I want you down at the pitch at seven o'clock tonight, all right, because we've got to make up time, you realize we're only three weeks away from our first match?"

She left as quickly as she had appeared; Peeves flew back in, his arms carrying a bunch of new ink pellets to throw at them. Mel felt the slightest sting of worry.

"Hope this clears up..." Ron said looking out the window. "What's up with you, Hermione?"

"Just thinking..."

"About Siri... Snuffles?"

"No... not exactly... More... wondering... I suppose we're doing the right thing... I think... aren't we?"

Harry, Mel and Ron looked at each other.

"Well, that clears that up," said Ron. "It would've been really annoying if you hadn't explained yourself properly."

"I was just wondering," She said, clearer this time, "whether we're doing the right thing, starting this Defense Against the Dark Arts group."

"What!" said Harry and Ron together.

"Hermione, it was your idea in the first place!" said Ron.

"I know, but after talking to Snuffles..."

"But he's all for it!" said Harry.

"Yes! Yes, that's what made me think maybe it wasn't a good idea after all..."

Peeves floated above them, all four lifted their bags to cover their heads.

"Let's get this straight," said Harry, once again in a bad mood, "Sirius agrees with us, so you don't think we should do it anymore?"

"Do you honestly trust his judgment?"

"Yes, I do! He's always given us great advice!"

"You don't think he has become... sort of... reckless... since he's been cooped up in Grimmauld Place? You don't think he's... kind of... living through us?"

"What d'you mean, 'living through us'?" Harry retorted.

"Oh, yeah he's definitely doing that," Mel admitted. "But what's wrong about it?"

"I mean... well, I think he'd love to be forming secret defence societies right under the nose of someone from the Ministry... I think he's really frustrated at how little he can do where he is... so I think he's keen to kind of... egg us on."

"So what?" Mel frowned. "It's still the right thing to do, him having no power over his life it's exactly where we are as well. The difference is that we have a chance to do something, and he wants us to take it."

"But there's so much at risk!"

"Sirius is right," Ron said in disbelief, "you do sound just like my mother."

Hermione didn't speak to them after that.

The next day Harry told them all about Dobby's visit in the middle of the night, waking him up after falling asleep in the common room by accident. He told them he'd found a room where to hold their meetings, which was great news, considering the girls had figured out a way to communicate without being too obvious.

The walls were lined with wooden bookcases, and instead of chairs, there were large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors, and a large cracked Foe-Glass that Harry was sure had hung, the previous year, in the fake Moody's office.

"How wonderful!" Mel walked towards the bookcases.

"These will be good when we're practising Stunning," said Ron, looking at the cushions.

"And just look at these books!" said Hermione standing beside her. "A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions... The Dark Arts Outsmarted... Self-Defensive Spellwork... wow... Harry, this is wonderful, there's everything we need here!"

There was a brief moment where Mel and Harry looked at each other, both with the same excited expression. Harry was about to say something when someone knocked on the door. Ginny, Neville, Lavender, Parvati, and Dean had arrived.

"Whoa," said Dean. "What is this place?"

Harry explained everything to their classmates as more started to arrive. At eight o'clock the place was full, every cushion occupied. Harry closed the door and turned the key. Everyone looked at him and Mel. Hermione set her book aside. Mel got up and stood next to Harry, feeling strangely out of place after all that time away from him.

"Well," He said. "This is the place we've found for practices, and you've — er — obviously found it okay —"

"It's fantastic!" said Cho.

"It's bizarre," said Fred. "We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broom cupboard then..."

"It changes depending on what you need it to be," Mel shrugged. "It became a toilet room for my uncle once."

Many laughed at her statement.

"Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?" asked Dean.

"Dark Detectors," Harry moved towards some objects. "Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled..."

"Well, only the sneakoscopes, really," Mel added. "The Foe-glass is harder to trick, only if you know your way around technicalities..."

"Well," The boy looked at her carefully, then moved his gaze to the group. "I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and — er —" Hermione raised her hand. "What, Hermione?"

"I think we ought to elect a leader."

"Harry's leader," said Cho at once. Noticing the way some stared at her, she blushed and added. "Mel too, of course!"

"Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly," said Hermione. "It makes it formal and it gives them authority. So — everyone who thinks Harry and Mel ought to be our leaders?"

Everybody put up their hands.

"Er — right, thanks," Harry blushed madly. Mel scolded herself for thinking how cute it was. "And — what, Hermione?"

"I also think we ought to have a name! It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" said Angelina.

"Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?" suggested Fred.

"I was thinking," said Hermione, "more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defense Association?" said Cho. "The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Yeah, the D.A.'s good," said Ginny. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it? And after all," She smirked at Mel. "A Dumbledore is our leader."

Mel grinned, a couple of students laughing along and agreeing with Ginny.

"All in favour of the D.A.?" said Hermione. "That's a majority — motion passed!"

She grabbed the parchment with all of their names on it on a wall and wrote DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY at the top.

"Right," said Harry, then he turned to Mel, "shall we get practising then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful —"

"Sure," Mel shrugged. "Could do it in my sleep..."

"Oh please," said Zacharias Smith with annoyance. "I don't think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

"I've used it against him," said Harry sharply. "It saved my life last June. But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave."  

No one left, of course.

"No objections then," Mel continued, "stand up, hope you brought your wands with you, otherwise it'll be a very boring night..."

"Okay," said Harry. "I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice."

Mel was kind of used to being listened to at that point, after all those weeks being the centre of attention of her new group of friends. Harry was a whole different story, he would usually try to hide and be quiet when he didn't want to be noticed, and she could tell he was having a hard time being the boss. She took the matter into her owns hands and paired everyone up, Neville was the last one standing, so Harry and she took turns with him.

"Right — on the count of three, then — one, two, three —"

Glancing around he thought he had been right to suggest that they practice the basics first; there was a lot of shoddy spellwork going on; many people were not succeeding in disarming their opponents at all, but merely causing them to jump backward a few paces or wince as the feeble spell whooshed over them.

"Merlin..." Mel was divided between shock and amusement.

"Expelliarmus!" Neville yelled without warning and Harry's wand flew out of his hand. "I DID IT! I've never done it before — I DID IT!"

"Good one!" said Harry. "Listen, Neville, can you take it in turns to practice with Ron and Hermione for a couple of minutes so Mel and I can walk around and see how the rest are doing?"

Mel took one side of the room and Harry the other. For a group of beginners, she thought they were doing all right. Harry and Mel met halfway and stopped to watch everyone side by side.

"What are your thoughts on this?" Harry asked her.

"I think you should've let the twins mess with Zacharias Smith a bit longer, he definitely needs to be humbled down..."

"We have weeks to do so," He replied casually.

"Ginny's doing great though, she did it in her first try!"

"I suspect Michael is only pretending to suck."

"If he is, he's doing the wrong thing to impress her," Mel smirked. "Anthony tried to show off when I walked past and he threw his wand directly at Smith's face!"

"Sometimes I want to throw a wand at Smith's face.."

Mel laughed, locking eyes with Harry. Her chest tightened at the sight of his silly old grin, and for a moment she felt like maybe not all hope was lost. Maybe they could find a way to be friends again.

"Er," She cleared her throat. "We should give them new directions now."

"What? Oh, right. Okay. Stop!" Harry shouted a bit clumsily, turning to look at their classmates. "Stop! STOP!"

"There," Mel nudged his arm and pointed to the whistle on the bookcase next to him. Harry took it a blew it.

"That wasn't bad," said Harry once they all stopped, "but there's definite room for improvement. Let's try again..."

As they continued to help around, Mel noticed he was letting her take care of Cho and Marietta. This, of course, reminded her that even though she was still having a hard time getting over him, Harry had long moved on from their... thing. So she avoided the pair until Harry had no choice but to go to them.

"Oh no," Cho blushed furiously as he approached. Mel lingered a few feet away, pretending to examine the Creeveys' techniques. "Expelliarmious! I mean, Expellimellius! I — oh, sorry, Marietta! You made me nervous, I was doing all right before then!"

Mel rolled her eyes at that. It wasn't that Cho was annoying, it wasn't even that Cho deserved to be disliked, but Mel was barely keeping it together every day and now she had to stand there and watch as Harry flirted with his crush twice a week.

"That was quite good," She heard Harry lie, after a second, he corrected. "Well, no, it was lousy, but I know you can do it properly, I was watching from over there..."

Marietta looked at them with exasperation and turned to leave. Mel watched as Cho leaned closer to whisper something to Harry's ear and that's when she decided she'd seen enough. The girl turned around.

"Hey, watch it!" Someone yelled at her.

Mel drew out her wand and stop the projectile before it stabbed her in the eye. She picked up George's wand from the ground and handed it back.

"You guys are doing great," She teased.

"Thanks," Said George. "Fred's enthusiastic."

"Talking about enthusiasm," Fred discretely pointed towards Harry and Cho with his head. "What's that about?"

"I don't care," Mel replied, making a face. "As long as it doesn't distract him from what we're doing here..."

"He looks distracted already," Fred raised a brow. "Want me to bring him back to earth?"

He waved his wand as if to jinx Harry, Mel grabbed his arm and moved it away, giggling.

"I'm afraid you're not allowed to hurt your teacher," She replied humorously.

"If you're done flirting, it's my turn to practice!" George called out.

"We're not, actually," Fred put an arm around her shoulders and pointed to George with his wand. "You're going to have to kill me first!"

"No killing tonight!" Mel laughed, stepping away from Fred's grip. "Stop fooling around, keep practising!"

"Sure thing, Professor!" The twins replied.

Ten minutes later, when Harry and Mel finally called it a night, everyone looked flushed and tired, but happier than they'd looked in months.

"Well, that was pretty good, but we've overrun, we'd better leave it here. Same time, same place next week?"

"Sooner!" said Dean.

"The Quidditch season's about to start, we need team practices too!" Said Angelina.

"Let's say next Wednesday night, then," said Harry, looking at Mel for her approval. She nodded. "And we can decide on additional meetings then... Come on, we'd better get going..."

"You all were brilliant," Mel smiled. "Hope to see you all again next time!"

"That was really, really good, guys," said Hermione when they were finally the only ones left in the hall.

"Yeah, it was!" said Ron. "Did you see me disarm Hermione?"

"Only once! I got you loads more than you got me —"

"I did not only get you once, I got you at least three times —"

"Well, if you're counting the one where you tripped over your own feet and knocked the wand out of my hand —"

"No bickering tonight, guys!" Mel said brightly. "The whole point is for everyone to learn and be better! I'm really proud of everyone– Neville especially, he looked so sure of himself!"

Mel glanced at Harry and found him staring at the Marauder's Map, his finger hovering over the dot with the tag 'Cho Chang'.

Next Chapter —>

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